Hilltop Cottage

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting - real life issues!

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Over the next two months, they drifted into a routine without really noticing it, and every two or three days, Severus would arrive at Hermione’s house. At first, there was always some flimsy pretext for his visits. More hangover potion should she need it, the loan of a book or a copy of Ars Alchemica for her to read, and on one occasion, some herb seedlings he had ostensibly found no room for in his terracotta pots. But Severus wasn’t fooled. He was just being a fool.

He had forced himself to stay at home today. It had been warm and sunny, ideal weather for assisting Hermione in her garden, but he had busied himself in his lab instead, brewing potions that he didn’t really need. His thoughts had been far from his cauldron, much to his annoyance. Hermione Granger had penetrated his hard built defences, and he found that she had filled a void in his life that he hadn’t known was even there. For the first time in his life, he had a genuine friend. Lily, he had decided, did not count.

Theirs had been a friendship based on similar need. They were two children, coping with their newly discovered magic, drawn to each other by the wonder of discovery and the joy of not being the only one. How quickly that had diminished, however, when push had come to shove. Lily Evans did not bestow the security of an unconditional bond, in which mistakes were made and then forgiven, on Snape. Where he had thought himself safe and accepted, he had been judged and found wanting, eventually subject to her scathing rejection.

It wasn’t the rejection of his love that had hurt the most. Severus was not so stupid that he didn’t realise teenage love could be fickle and transient. What had pained him the most was Lily’s rejection of him and their friendship and all that they had shared before Hogwarts. He had invested himself so deeply, but it had counted for nothing, and subsequently, he hadn’t felt a like whole person for years. His hurt had been burning a hole in him more fiercely than his Dark Mark, a pain to which he had become so accustomed it almost ceased to exist, until Granger and her honest, open and accepting friendship had fulfilled him, almost healed him.

He couldn’t understand it. He was over twice her age, and yet the past that they shared seemed to bind them and invisibly draw them to each other. Strangely though, during all of his visits, they hadn’t talked about the war or of Hogwarts or of her friends or his past. They focussed only on the ‘now,’ as if by some unspoken rule. Having tea, weeding the garden, and watching Hermione’s ridiculous television programmes seemed enough. On occasion, they even sat and read in the same room quietly, the silence cosseting them like a cosy fleece.

Severus had recently come to acknowledge that he didn’t want Hermione to leave Hilltop Cottage any time soon, and yet he had no idea of her plans for the future. She could up and leave within the week for all he knew.

He tried to pretend that he was indifferent, but deep down, the thought scared the shit out of him.

***

Hermione had spent the morning in her garden, preparing a surprise for Severus. She wasn’t expecting him today. He had told her he had business to attend to, and she didn’t pry. Although part of her was curious as to how he spent his days, she never asked and he never divulged. It wasn’t important. The one thing he’d told her-and the thing she had noticed most-was his envy of her garden.

Occasionally, Hermione would catch him staring at the long, narrow plot with his brow furrowed and his lips moving as if he was talking to himself. One day, he had paced along the plot, counting to himself, and Hermione had realised he was planning what he would do with the garden if it were his.

She had been very careful not to ask too many questions because she knew it irked him. He would purse his lips and his gaze would grow distant, so she quickly stopped, resorting to quiet conversation in the hope it would draw him out of himself. Sometimes they wouldn’t speak at all, and Hermione found she really liked those times. Being with Severus was bringing her the peace she had thought would elude her despite her seclusion.

But on the day he had paced her garden, she had forgotten her own rule and asked him about it, and his mouth had quirked ruefully as if he knew it was but a pipe dream. But he had told her anyway.

In one section, he would grow herbs and edible flowers, planted in rotation so he could sow, harvest and replenish the soil with nutrients in such a way as to always have a fresh crop. In the next section, he would grow shrubs that he could use in his potions but would lose efficacy when dried. This was an idea in the development stages, in line with research he had refused to discuss further. When describing the last section of the garden, Snape had been dismissive of his plans to grow vegetables in a bid to be more self-sufficient, but Hermione had been enthralled by the idea. Snape had smiled slightly at her enthusiasm and patted her shoulder as if humouring her. Hermione had blushed at the gesture, and Snape had pulled back in embarrassment, as if he had forgotten himself. But Hermione had secretly been thrilled. It had shown his contentment with her company, that he actually liked being with her. It was usually so very hard to tell.


***

Hermione was starving, and much to her frustration, she realised she needed to go food shopping. One onion, half a loaf of bread and a banana would not go very far, and with a sigh, she realised the shop would already be closed. She hadn’t even realised how late it was. With a small smile, she pulled out the local takeaway menu and grabbed the phone. It would only take her ten minutes to run down there, and she had worked very hard today. A treat was in order.

After making her call and placing her order, she pulled on her green fleece over her thin white t-shirt, pushed her feet inside her greying trainers, and searched for her rucksack and the front door key. Once she had everything, she set off, closing the front door with a satisfying bang and then almost trotting up the path. For some reason, she noticed her gate had stopped creaking, and when she glanced down, there was a telltale smear of oil on the hinges and the handle. Hermione rolled her eyes. There was only one person who would have done that. She smiled knowingly. She wasn’t sure if he had done it for her benefit or because the noisy gate annoyed the hell out of him. She suspected it was the latter.

The sun was just setting as she walked down the lane, a rosy ball glowing as it dipped behind the hills, casting streaks of pink and purple light across the sky. There were faint puffs of greying cloud, and Hermione was reminded of the old wives’ saying, ‘Red Sky at Night, Shepherds’ Delight.’ It would probably be a nice day tomorrow, and she hoped that Snape would call so she could show him his surprise. She could hardly wait to see the look on his face.

Before long, Hermione saw the red and yellow sign hanging on the wall outside the Chinese takeaway and felt her mouth water a little. The Chung Ying House had opened a little over two years ago, a much needed addition to the town. They also did the best Crispy Chilli Chicken Hermione had ever tasted. As she got to the door, she noticed there were two other customers waiting. She paused momentarily to gather herself. Both customers were male. One man was bald and had dark blue tattoos on his large neck and his forearms. His eyebrow was pierced with a long, black, pointed fang, and he looked every inch like a Muggle she would choose to avoid, even though she knew this was a stereotypical response. The man was probably perfectly nice, despite appearances.

The other customer was hidden from view by a large menu board in the window, but his feet were visible, and Hermione laughed lowly to herself. There was no mistaking those boots or the slim, dark legs that were stretching above them. With a grin, she pushed the door open. Both men turned at the sound of the tinkling bell, and Hermione nodded to the tattooed Muggle, who grunted and nodded back, then put his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and stood slightly taller. She turned then and grinned lopsidedly at Severus, who seemed to be trying not to smile back at her. He crossed his arms and leant back against the beige Formica countertop, his lips twitching as Hermione walked towards him.

‘Not cooking tonight?’ he murmured.

‘Nope. I was busy, ran out of time to get anything in. What’s your excuse?’ Hermione giggled a little as he grimaced slightly. She had an idea that cooking wasn’t something Severus did very often.

‘I do not need an excuse,’ Severus said quietly, leaning forward slightly so as to keep the conversation between them. ‘I just love the Crispy Chilli Chicken.’

His face was deadpan, but Hermione saw a glimmer of amusement in his eye and started to laugh just as a slim Chinese lady walked from behind a two-way mirror carrying two paper bags.

‘Crispy Chilli Chicken?’ she asked, looking at all three customers with her eyebrows raised.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione and Severus together. Hermione gave Severus a sideways glance and felt very slightly smug as his mouth opened in surprise, then closed quickly into a smirk. With an old-fashioned gesture, Severus swept his arm in front her, allowing her to take her food first. Hermione grinned and handed her money to the woman behind the counter, who looked at both of them with a bemused look on her face and shook her head a little. Severus followed suit, and before long, they were standing on the pavement outside the shop, holding identical bags of food and looking a little awkward.

‘Well. Better eat before it gets cold,’ Hermione stated, waving her bag slightly.

‘Yes,’ Severus said, nodding.

Neither of them moved, and Hermione laughed a little with embarrassment.

‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ she asked quietly. For some reason, the question sounded loaded with innuendo, and she blushed, hoping the dim light would hide her glowing cheeks.

Severus was staring intently at Hermione, as if trying to read some hidden meaning in her words. He was feeling tense suddenly, and he wondered if she had asked because she wanted to see him, or because she thought he would call up anyway.

‘Perhaps.’ Severus nodded and turned to walk away, but her words made him pause and turn slightly.

‘Severus?’ Hermione moved her feet a step towards him, then stopped suddenly.

‘Yes?’ He raised his eyebrow in a question.

‘Would you like to come for lunch? I have something to show you, and we could eat at the same time.’ She smiled shyly.

‘Very well. Tomorrow, then,’ he said quickly, turning to walk up the street.

Hermione stared after him, and with a sinking feeling, she realised she had just invited Severus Snape on what had sounded like a date. Her stomach flipped when she realised she wasn’t averse to the idea at all.