A Tale of Two Grangers

Severus was gone for the entire day. Hermione wasn\'t surprised, though she did wonder where he\'d got off to. She\'d never known him to go out, but then again, she didn\'t know all that much about him. Upon considering this, she realized that she was quite happy about the opportunity to get better acquainted with him. Her infamous inclination to crusade for the disenfranchised had always compelled her to defend him, especially after his death and the revelation of his true loyalty.



She was secretly ashamed now, however, at how little she had really done for him. His memory was mostly lost after the war, and only Harry and a few others really understood what the man sacrificed. His home on Spinner\'s End was a topic broached once every few months among Ministry committees. He left no will or other directions for his belongings, so they fell into the hands of the Ministry. His few dedicated devotees always voted that his home be made into a war memorial, some even recommending it as a museum detailing the activities and lives of Order of the Phoenix spies. Harry made it his personal mission to attend every one of the meetings on this topic and always showed his support.



Hermione, however, had only come to a few of the first. There was always something else calling for her attention—Ministry hearings on the rights of house elves (Dobby\'s heroism was now well-known and respected thanks to Harry and his friends), her own work as a legal adviser to the Auror department, events with the Weasleys and Ron, and numerous other post-war volunteer groups she signed up to work for. She felt stretched thin already, and so it became easier to tell herself that the living needed her help more than the dead.



So, Spinner\'s End was still boarded up and empty, quickly fading into a replica of the Shrieking Shack. She knew it wasn\'t completely her fault, but now that his presence was fresh in her mind, she felt terribly guilty about how much she had done in her head and how little in the real world.



After brooding over the topic and a few cups of tea that morning, she resolved to be as kind to him as possible during her stay in his time. The kiss bothered her, but it was much easier to forget about it when thinking of her guilt than when trying to refresh her knowledge of arthimancy. It seemed like every time she looked at a page in her books or a graph of numbers, her mind immediately drifted to his deliciously soft lips, his pounding heart, his hand tangled in her hair....



"Where\'s Crookshanks when I need him?" she mumbled to herself. The half-kneazle cat had always been so good at keeping her on task with his accusing little stare. Well, he will be so good at that, she thought. She had to keep reminding herself that all of her beloved friends weren\'t really gone, just not yet born or introduced to her.



She decided to make a light lunch as a break, after which she would return to her studying with (hopefully) renewed vigor. She allowed herself to ruminate on Severus and his kiss while she ate. This tactic usually worked for her, but this time she found herself eating as slowly as possible to enjoy the moment in her mind over and over. She could almost feel again the tingle and shortness of breath he left behind.



She found it odd that she wasn\'t repulsed by a kiss from the "greasy old git," as her friends used to call him. (Will call him, she reminded herself.) He seemed like a completely different person despite his signature short temper. He was younger of course, but there was something missing from him that the older Severus Snape had in abundance. She guessed that perhaps it was his attitude of superiority, as this Severus seemed much less sure of himself. She also thought that it might have something to do with the war, since in this time Voldemort was still considered dead. Dumbledore knew better and had told Severus so, she knew, but maybe he didn\'t believe it, or was just glad for the short time of relative freedom he had.



Hermione was also curious about her sudden change in feelings for Ron. She had been devastated after his death, and time didn\'t seem to soothe her at all, thus her thoughtless and rash use of the time turner to save him. Now, however, she again thought of him as a dear old friend, much like she thought of Harry. Perhaps it was because he wasn\'t yet dead in this time, or because all of the excitement over the past few days had finally been the thing to take her mind off of his absence. There was even a slight possibility that time travel had dulled her feelings about events in her own time, but she was skeptical of this theory (which she had read about in one of the slightly more respectable books in the Hogwarts library).



Regardless of the reason, she did feel a bit guilty about how she was thinking about Severus. I\'m supposed to be saving Ron and, of all people, I find myself snogging Severus Snape. Ron would die all over again of a heart attack if he knew, she thought with a sad smile.



On that note, she felt ready to go back to her books. Dumbledore had, in addition to the book list, given her a copy of the last professor\'s lecture notes and syllabi. Her work was mostly done for her, she only had to refresh herself for the first few weeks to be ready.



She had been working for hours and was just finishing her notes on the Sieve of Eratosthenes when she heard the front door open and close. Footsteps sounded into (she presumed) Severus\'s study, then toward the kitchen. He opened the door and stared at her without a greeting, striking an image in the doorway that she thought was incredibly attractive and incredibly nerve-racking at the same time.



"Hello, Severus," she said, immediately wishing she\'d come up with anything remotely interesting to say.



He looked at his table, which was completely covered in piles of parchment, stacks of books, and scraps of notes. He looked into her face again, expressionless. "I see you\'ve been working."



"Yeah." Wow, I\'m really going to reel him in with this sort of enthralling conversation. Wait, what am I talking about, reeling him in? I\'ve gone mad. She picked up her quill, dropped it on the table, and picked it up again.



He smirked. "You haven\'t eaten. I\'ll make dinner, then I need to speak with you." He walked swiftly to the refrigerator and began pulling out food.



Hermione panicked. Speak with me? What in Merlin\'s balls does he need to speak with me about? Is this about last night? Well of course it has to be, what else could it be? What have I gotten myself into? Maybe he\'ll kiss me again. Damn it, Granger!



"You might want to clear some of that up so that we can sit down, unless you wanted to eat from the stove like a savage," he said over his shoulder, startling her.



She absentmindedly began cleaning up her things, her mind racing to think of what he might want to say to her, starting to feel a heavy sense of dread drop into her stomach.

---

I felt like I had to address a few things, including Hermione\'s feelings for Ron, her guilt about Snape (which I imagine most of us can relate to in our own way), and what she was doing in Bellatrix\'s home in the first place. I\'m not going to say whether the good stuff is coming, but I know that a man cooking dinner adds about twenty sexy points. ;)



And once again, thanks reviewers! I\'m a bit more confident about the everglass now. :) There is one more Potterverse invention I\'ve thought about for a long time that I might use now. Not sure if there is a place for it in this story, but we\'ll see. I think if I were a witch in this world I\'d really dig potions, as I tend to come up with a lot of good potion-related ideas.