Chapter Text
Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be
For the gentle wind does move
Silently invisibly
- William Blake
‘You’re sure I can’t tempt you back to Hogwarts? Even just for a year?’
‘I’m quite sure, Minerva.’
The newly instated Headmistress of Hogwarts sat back in the chair that Severus himself had occupied until a few months ago – though she seemed much more comfortable in it than he ever had. The office was still in the process of being redecorated, the floor strewn with piles of books and periodicals and various magical instruments. Several small changes had already been made to the décor: a tartan rug now took pride of place in front of the fireplace, brightly coloured cushions were scattered on the seats, and photographs of beloved nieces and nephews lined the walls. It gave the room a homier touch than when Dumbledore had occupied it.
‘Well, I won’t say I’m not surprised,’ said Minerva as she placed her teacup back in its saucer and took another shortbread biscuit from the tin on her desk. ‘You led me to believe you were considering it.’
‘I was,’ Severus admitted, genuinely loathe to disappoint her, ‘but giving the matter some thought, I’ve concluded that a clean break would be preferable. Though I am sorry for the inconvenience it will cause you.’
If he went back now, even with the intention of it being temporary, he knew he’d only get comfortable again and end up staying for good. Likely he’d still be teaching when he was Minerva’s age. She might be perfectly happy living the rest of her days instructing dunderheads, but Severus had never had the luxury of freely choosing his own profession. And now, for the first time in his life, he had the chance to do whatever he wanted.
And then, of course, there was that other little matter …
How could he go back to teaching when she would be here? How could he face her across a classroom, treat her as though she were no more important than the rest of them? He had a sudden vision of Hermione Granger dressed in her Gryffindor tie, her school robes, waving her hand in the air to answer a question, and his stomach instantly filled with bile. How could he possibly teach her now he had wondered how it would feel to run his hands down the curve of her hip, touch the soft skin under her—
No.
He would not think of her anymore. He’d done his damn best this last week to put all thoughts of the girl from his mind, and he wouldn’t undo all that work now.
‘What will you do instead?’ asked Minerva.
He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Brew. I’ve enough contacts I should be able to cobble together enough work to keep me from starving.’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘I’ll speak to Poppy and draw up a contract for the Hospital Wing supply, if you’re interested? Horace would do it if forced, but not without putting up a fight – and, frankly, I can’t be bothered with the aggro this year.’
Immediately his heart felt lighter. He had been dreading this conversation with Minerva, but contrary to his fears, she was being more than understanding. And he certainly hadn’t expected to win his first private client so soon. ‘I would be interested.’
‘And I’d be happy to give you a reference of course, if you ever need it.’
‘Thank you.’
Her eyes roamed his face, seeming to contemplate him a moment. ‘You aren’t without friends, Severus. No matter what’s gone on this last year, and no matter where your future takes you, you’ll always be one of us. And you’re always welcome at the castle. Isn’t that right, Albus?’ she added, looking up at Dumbledore’s portrait over Severus’ shoulder.
‘Quite right,’ said Dumbledore, smiling down at him. ‘Don’t be a stranger, my boy.’
Severus gave a jerky nod.
‘Now,’ continued Minerva, ‘you are coming back for the grand finale on Friday, aren’t you?’
He lifted a brow. ‘What’s this?’
‘The Great Hall ceiling,’ she explained, as though he were a dunce. ‘We’re renewing the charm. I thought you knew – I told Remus when he was here yesterday.’
‘I haven’t seen him.’
Minerva frowned. ‘Aren’t you staying at Grimmauld?’
‘Not presently. Potter offered, but I’m not yet decided if I shall return. I’ve been at my home in Spinner’s End these last ten days.’
‘Ah,’ she said in understanding, and hesitated a moment. ‘I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Severus – and please don’t take this the wrong way – but I believe it would do you good to return to Grimmauld. You don’t need me to tell you you have a tendency to isolate yourself.’
Severus tensed. ‘I am perfectly fine where I am.’
‘You’re perfectly alone,’ quipped Minerva. ‘That might be how you like it, but it’s not healthy.’
He felt his irritation rise. Why was everyone so bloody obsessed with his living arrangements? Perhaps coming here was a mistake after all – a note would surely have sufficed.
‘I thank you for your concern, Minerva, but I am perfectly capable of sorting out the matter myself,’ he snapped.
Minerva pursed her lips, but bit back whatever scathing retort she’d cooked up in her sharp mind, and dropped the subject.
oOo
Hermione Granger slumped next to Ron Weasley in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, perfectly exhausted. They’d just gotten back from the romantic break she’d promised him they’d go on.
Four days in a Muggle bed and breakfast in Dublin. It had been nice. A few arguments, but that was to be expected during their first trip away together as a couple. Most of the arguments had centred around how to spend their days out there. In the end they’d compromised, and decided they’d take turns in choosing what to do; on Monday, they’d done a tour of the local wizarding pubs in Dublin’s version of Diagon Alley (Ron’s choice, obviously); on Tuesday they’d done the museums (well, Hermione had – Ron had complained of sore feet after two hours and had gone for a pint); Wednesday they’d joined a guided tour of the Holyhead Harpies’ training ground (Ron’s favourite part of the trip, Hermione’s least favourite); and on Thursday they’d paid a visit to the charming wizarding community near the monastic settlement of Glendalough (which, thankfully, they’d both enjoyed).
After a rocky start to their relationship, she now felt like things were finally starting to improve. Well, at least until he’d started badgering her to come and live at the Burrow with him and Harry for the rest of the summer. No matter how many times she told him, he couldn’t accept that she just didn’t want to. But it was impossible to explain precisely why, because she couldn’t quite pinpoint it herself.
‘There’s plenty of room for you, if that’s what you’re worried about?’ Ron said, propping his feet up on the coffee table. ‘Mum probably wouldn’t let you stay with me, but you could sleep in Percy’s old room, which is right across from mine.’
‘It’s not that,’ Hermione said, wishing Ron would just drop the subject. This was the third time he’d brought it up today.
‘Well, what is it then?’ he said, frustrated. ‘Because I don’t get it.’
‘I just … want some space. We were cooped up together for almost a year, it was … intense. Besides, I want to focus on my studies, and I need peace and quiet for that. I’m hardly likely to get that at the Burrow, am I?’
‘We’ll give you space if you want it.’
‘You and I both know that wouldn’t happen.’ She took one look at the disappointment on his face, and felt herself becoming annoyed with him. Why couldn’t he just understand? He was acting like she was being unreasonable, but after sharing a tent with two teenage boys for almost a year, wasn’t she entitled to a bit of solitude? And while she would have her own room at the Burrow, it wouldn’t be hers in the way the one at Grimmauld had become.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘it’s not as if we won’t see each other all the time anyway. You can come visit me here whenever you want, or I can come to the Burrow. With Apparition, we’re only seconds away. Not to mention we’re linked by Floo as well.’
‘I guess,’ said Ron, apparently placated. Hermione turned her attention back to reading the book she’d picked up in Dublin on Celtic runes.
‘Will Snape be here?’ said Ron all of a sudden.
Her eyes darted from the book to his face. There had been something in his tone of voice when he’d said Snape’s name, something strained and resentful.
‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly. ‘Harry hasn’t heard from him at all since he disappeared midway through the party. He might not come back at all.’
‘He might though.’
‘Maybe,’ said Hermione. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Nothing,’ Ron said quickly. ‘Just doesn’t seem right, a girl like you living with a bloke like that.’
She frowned, feeling herself growing more irritated by the second. ‘Remus will still be here. I’m sure he’ll protect me from the big bad Death Eater.’
‘I meant …’ he started, then with a glance at the look on Hermione’s face, said, ‘Don’t worry about it. Snape probably won’t even show up, eh? He’s probably found somewhere else to live. Hey, maybe Malfoy offered him the guest wing – that must be why he turned up after the trial.’
Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she knew the reason Malfoy had come, and it had nothing to do with offering Severus a place to stay. Was that why she hadn’t heard from him, why he hadn’t responded to her letters – he was angry with her for seeking Lucius Malfoy’s help? But why would he be? She acknowledged it had been a little reckless of her, but it had all worked out, hadn’t it? He couldn’t be so angry about it that he would refuse to even send her a quick note that he was alright.
In the end she’d told herself he just wanted some space after the trial while the media whirlwind died down, trusting he would get in touch when he was ready.
She missed him though.
It was a strange thing to realise quite how much. She missed their companionable mornings, perusing the morning papers over a pot of tea, trading opinions on matters great and small, from the latest pronouncement from the Ministry to the advantages of one Potions ingredient over another. She missed their evenings reading by the fire in the library, and their animated discussions about magical theory. It was something of a novelty, to have a friend with whom she could share intellectual conversation, who didn’t yawn openly when she brought up some titbit she’d read about magical history, who didn’t constantly tell her she needed to lighten up and have more fun.
‘Guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening then?’ said Ron, getting up. He had a last-minute appointment at Madam Malkins to get his Auror robes altered before starting training tomorrow. ‘You’ll come over for dinner, won’t you?’
She nodded. ‘That sounds nice.’
‘Shame training has to start so soon. Would have been nice to have the whole summer off and started in September like you. We could have extended our trip, maybe even stayed a couple of weeks.’
‘Well, you’re the one who wanted to start work instead of going back to do your NEWTs,’ she said, grinning.
Ron smirked in return, then planted a kiss on her head.
‘Yeah, well, think of the cash I’ll be earning soon. I’ll finally be able to afford nice clothes instead of bloody hand-me-downs, maybe even a new broom. Oh and first paycheque I get, I’m going to take you out to a fancy restaurant – that new place in Diagon Alley maybe.’
‘That sounds nice,’ she said indulgently. ‘Good luck for tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be great.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Auror Weasley – sounds good, doesn’t it? First ever Weasley to make it into the Auror department, too.’
She smiled at his enthusiasm, glad Ron seemed to be finally finding his feet, and watched as he threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.