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The Headmaster's Wife	By : Mrs_HH Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 96914 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 23
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 47
- 48
- 49
The next two weeks were particularly frustrating and emotional for both staff and students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It had started after lessons on the Friday before Halloween, when the student body was somewhat perturbed by Professor McGonagall's voice ringing throughout the school to announce that attendance at dinner that evening was compulsory.
Speculation was rife by the time all were sat in the Great Hall, but it reached fever pitch when it became apparent that all the staff were present with the exception of Professor Slughorn. However, what captured the students' imaginations more was when Professor Granger eschewed her usual position next to the headmaster to sit between Professors Longbottom and Malfoy, whilst Professor Potter took her place.
The meal was unusually quiet, and the furtive conversations between the staff, which were remarkably sombre, had not gone unnoticed. The diehard romantics amongst the female populace were somewhat appeased when Headmaster Snape looked over at his witch, and his lips twitched almost imperceptibly at her which the gossips correctly interpreted as a smile as the couple conversed through their connection.
You'll be fine, love, Hermione reassured him
I wish this was not necessary, he replied dejectedly before nodding curtly at Minerva who took that as her cue to attract everyone's attention.
As the students looked towards the front of the Great Hall, the headmaster swept from his seat, and walked round to the owl embellished lectern to deliver the news that he would have preferred not to be delivering.
"I am pleased to see that you have all had the courtesy to attend this evening. Unfortunately, you may have noticed that one member of staff is noticeable by his absence. Since being taken ill, Professor Slughorn has been assessed by several healers at St Mungo's, and it is my sad duty to inform you that your esteemed professor has been diagnosed with an untreatable condition."
Severus paused not only to allow the collective gasp and utterances of disbelief to subside, but also because the reality of the situation was finally hitting him.
"This news has come as a shock to us all, and regrettably the professor's passing is imminent. However, those of us who have been privileged enough to know, and study under Professor Slughorn, will be aware that, in circumstances such as these, his advice would be to carry on calmly and with dignity. Out of respect to our colleague, the staff will be doing just that, and I, but more importantly the professor, would appreciate it if you could do the same."
Severus looked across the student body, wishing that he could find something off the cuff and inspiring to say. However, as the sea of faces stared back him through tears and expressions of shock, he knew he was deficient in that respect. He could make grand, rehearsed speeches or could happily wax lyrical on subjects such as his plans for the school. He could converse easily on an individual basis, or lecture in front of a class, but he'd never before had to deal with something like this.
He'd encountered death more times than he cared to think about. He'd witnessed both merciful and brutal deaths, but what they'd all had in common was their swiftness. Horace's slow death seemed cruel to him, and he didn't know how to convey something positive about the situation. He felt lost; although no one would know behind the mask he was wearing, but Hermione could sense it.
What's wrong?
Albus would have something cryptic and vaguely comforting to say at a moment like this. I can't find―
―you're not Albus: you're you. They expect you to be straightforward, and the fact that your door is always open to them is quite comforting, I think.
Knowing she was right, he relied on his ever present stoicism, and continued, "With this in mind, I am pleased to announce that the new Head of Slytherin House is Professor Potter."
Murmurs of disbelief filled the Great Hall, but the Slytherin table sat in stunned silence. Severus looked over at his snakes and addressed them directly. "I expect you to respect this appointment, and remember this: Harry Potter was nearly sorted into Slytherin house, and as such, he will serve you well. I will not be appointing a Deputy Head of House at this time, so until I do you will be delighted to know that I will be stepping into the breach."
A few groans greeted this announcement, and Severus drawled, "Please keep your public displays of jubilation to a minimum," before turning his attention back to the whole school. "As a former Head of House, I know the pressures that this role brings, and I would ask therefore that you afford Professor Potter the same support and respect that the other Heads of House enjoy.
"I appreciate that there is much for you all to digest, so when you return to your common rooms, your Heads and Deputy Heads of House will be on hand to answer any questions that you may have. The pastoral care office will be available all weekend, and, of course, my door is always open. You are dismissed."
As the students began to file out of the Great Hall, Severus looked across at Hermione, who gave him a soft smile. I'll go and see Horace; you go to the dungeons, and when you come home, we'll have an early night, she thought to him.
Severus didn't respond, but nodded graciously to his witch before turning on his heel and striding out of the Great Hall, heading towards the dungeons with a renewed sense of calm. It was amazing how thoughts of an early night could do that to a man.

The next day, a feeling of numbness seemed to have engulfed the entire school. Even the ghosts―both old and new―seemed dispirited considering it was Halloween. Even the prospect of the first Quidditch match of the season and the Halloween feast―both highlights of the school calendar―could not lift the melancholia of the student body. Surprisingly, for a Saturday, Professor McGonagall was overseeing breakfast, and unusually for any weekend, all but three professors, one of whom was the headmaster, were in attendance as well.
Minerva looked across the Great Hall with concern. There was none of the usual chattering, or inter-house banter synonymous with Quidditch days. She also noticed an inordinate amount of food was being pushed around plates and left uneaten. She sighed into her tea. The school was unsettled, and the deputy headmistress didn't like it one bit.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Professor Potter's chambers certainly was unsettled and had chilled considerably overnight.
For the first time since their relationship had restarted, Harry and Cho spent the night together. Harry wasn't sure why he'd been so reluctant to initiate a physical relationship with his girlfriend, and he certainly hadn't intended for it to happen that night, but somehow it did.
It had all started when the newly appointed Head of Slytherin had returned to his rooms from the Slytherin common room, tired and emotionally drained. He'd just opened a bottle of Hog's Head Brew from the crate which Aberforth had sent up to him when a tentative knock sounded on his door. Swearing under his breath, the young professor placed the bottle on the mantelpiece before flinging open his door with a force that would have made a certain former Head of Slytherin proud.
However, instead of finding a member of his house lurking at the threshold, he found his girlfriend standing before him. Noticing how drawn Harry looked, Cho gently touched his cheek before brushing his hair away from his face. "I thought you might want some company. Rough night?"
"I've had better," Harry snorted softly, "but I've also had much worse. Now, Miss Chang, you appear to be out after curfew. You know I should―"
"You might be the new Head of Slytherin, but I'm still older than you," Cho reminded him playfully.
Harry pulled her to him. "But I still need to make sure you're safe," he whispered against her lips. "I think you'd better stay here tonight."
And with that, the untouched bottle of beer remained untouched as the kissing couple made their way clumsily towards Harry's bedroom.
However, the next morning―the anniversary of his parents' deaths―found Harry angrily pacing in front of the witch whom he'd found comfort in the previous night.
"Cho, you know how important today is for me. You're my girlfriend, for fuck's sake, and I thought you'd want to come with me."
"Well, you thought wrong," Cho protested from the sofa. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to visit your parents' graves. It's really morbid, and besides you won't be on your own because Snape and Hermione are going with you."
"So?" Harry gestured incredulously. "Look, I know I asked them to come with me, but Severus has his own reasons to be there, and Hermione will be there for him, and―"
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't want to come with you, alright?"
Harry shook his head disappointedly. "Fine!"
"I better get going," Cho stated, standing up and walking towards the messy haired wizard to kiss him goodbye. When Harry recoiled, she seemed annoyed, and continued to the door before informing him that her parents were expecting them for Sunday lunch at two o'clock.
Harry sighed deeply. "I don't know if I can make it," he told her petulantly as she opened the door.
She looked at him, and went to speak, but simply shrugged. "Well, just let me know tomorrow."
As the door closed, Harry made a decision. Sunday lunches at the Chang's were a thing of the past.

Harry wasn't the only person having a rough morning. Severus had awoken in a foul mood, despite the rather pleasant and satisfying night that he'd shared with his witch. Hermione tried to chivvy him along, but, when each attempt failed, she finally she gave up and stormed out of their bedroom, wearing nothing but a big, baggy jumper.
Just before the bedroom door had slammed shut, Severus heard her yelling, "We've got fourteen-year-olds here that sulk less than you," and he was snapped out of his need to brood by an overwhelming need to yell back at her.
Hermione sniggered as she heard him swearing profusely in the bedroom, knowing that, once again, her tactic had worked. Since their fight after his injury at the Ministry Ball, Hermione had discovered that when a sullen mood befell her wizard, the only way he would respond was when she threatened to leave him to his own devices, as well as making a scathing comment that she knew he could not leave unchallenged. She'd also found that a viciously slammed door would snap him from his moping.
She sat down on the sofa, waiting calmly for the oncoming storm that was about to burst through the bedroom door. She didn't want to have a fight with him, but, at least whilst he was yelling, they were communicating, and she knew that once he'd calmed down, there would be an apology for his grumpiness and an admission of what lay behind it.
Of course, it wasn't unusual for Severus to be particularly obnoxious at Halloween, and no matter how much he was in love with Hermione, the anniversary of Lily's death would forever haunt him. However, whereas for the past sixteen years he'd had an uncaring, aloof demeanour to maintain, which in turn kept him away from Godric's Hollow, there was nothing preventing his attendance today. Before Harry's invitation, he'd considered going to visit Lily's grave, but unsure of what it would achieve he'd dismissed the notion quickly. But this morning he had woken up with the sickening realisation that he'd agreed to go, and what made it worse was that Hermione was being fully supportive. Even if he could come up with an excuse not to go, she would see right through him.
So he stormed into the living room in nothing but his cotton sleep pants, and yelled, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm not sulking, and I would kindly thank you not to compare me to one of those dunderheaded pubescent miscreants that are in our charge. I am not looking forward to accompanying Potter to his parents' graves...to her grave, and..." He trailed off, running his hand through his locks, grabbing onto a fistful of hair at the back.
"And?" Hermione pressed.
"I am unsure how I will...that is to say, I am uncertain how I will feel once there. We're visiting Lily's grave, and―" Severus pressed his lips into a tight line whilst considering what to say next. Hermione held out her hand, beckoning him to sit beside her. Reluctantly, he sat down; his body tense, until his witch's small, delicate hand slipped into his and her magic began washing over him. "If it hadn't been for me, we would have no need to visit her grave," he muttered.
"You didn't kill her, Sev."
"She died needlessly," Severus protested.
Hermione turned her head to look at him. "But not in vain. She made a huge sacrifice, and gave us all a chance to defeat Voldemort eventually. Suppose she had stood aside that night, and he'd won, then what?"
"It doesn't bear thinking about," Severus whispered, focusing on the petite thumb that was stroking his hand.
'So, all that fuss this morning was because you're understandably apprehensive about today? Wouldn't it have been easier to just tell me rather than acting like a dunderheaded pubescent miscreant?"
Severus narrowed his eyes as Hermione playfully threw his words back at him, and shrugged before admitting his apprehension.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and called Winky to prepare them a light breakfast before dragging Severus back into the bedroom so that she could accept his apology. After showering together and dressing, they sprawled out on the sofa in companionable silence―Severus reading correspondence, Hermione studying―until Harry knocked on their door.
As they walked down to the Apparition point, Hermione could feel Severus becoming more and more uptight, and once Harry had Disapparated, she grabbed her wizard's hands and brought them to her lips. "Severus, whatever happens, no one is going to judge you for how you feel."
He pulled her close before standing with his back to the school so that prying eyes could not see him press a kiss to her hair. "I can only do this with you by my side."
"Where else would I be?" Hermione asked, wrapping her arms around his waist. With a loud crack, the couple disappeared.

Two Apparition cracks, in quick succession, announced the arrival of the witch and two wizards into the garden of the house that Harry had shared with his parents for the first fifteen months of his life.
Hermione grabbed Severus' arm, trying to steady herself as her partner encouraged her to take deep breaths to suppress the nausea he could tell she was experiencing. Once he was sure she was stable, the headmaster finally looked up at the building before him.
"Don't puke in my garden," Harry chuckled, pushing the strap of the bag he was carrying up onto his shoulder as he saw the pasty visage of his curly-haired friend who was clinging onto her equally pasty looking wizard.
The younger wizard knew that Severus' ashen expression had nothing to do with feeling nauseous. The raven-haired wizard noticed that Harry had managed to repair the outer damage that he'd witnessed all those years ago. Of course, he understood why Harry was renovating the property―it was actually a nice looking house―but his chest constricted as myriad emotions ranging from sadness to resentment hit him. Severus had only visited this building once, but what had occurred on that night left a gaping hole in his life, and seeing it transformed as if nothing extraordinary had happened there, felt like a kick in the guts. And yet it seemed a little ridiculous to feel like that because the person who had repaired the house was Harry himself. It wasn't as if the Ministry had poked its nose in, and from what Severus had gleaned from conversations with The-Boy-Who-Enjoyed-DIY, Harry was rather proud of his remodelling efforts.
Trying to break the tension, Harry asked, "Do you want to come inside and see what I've done so far with the renovations?"
"Another time. Let's just get this over and done with, Potter," Severus growled, striding toward the side gate that he knew would lead to the main road.
Harry went to speak, but just closed his mouth again as Hermione walked towards him and placed a comforting hand on his arm. "He's really wound up," she told him sheepishly before running to catch up with Severus
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Harry grumbled, following them both out onto the street.

Godric's Hollow was a quaint little village with colour-washed cottages and terraced houses. There was a parade of small family run shops in the high street with a few cars parked outside as shoppers from the surrounding villages visited the only butchers in the area.
The local pub, which was just opening, stood opposite the village's war memorial. However, to the bickering couple who were currently walking up the main thoroughfare, and the young man who was keeping a safe distance behind them, the memorial took a completely different form.
Harry shook his head with amusement as he caught up with Severus and Hermione, and heard his curly-haired friend telling Severus to calm down. Deciding not to interfere, he listened to Hermione's righteous nagging, and Severus' annoyed exhalations, which culminated in him hissing, "Shut up, you insufferable woman."
At this point, Harry chose to walk on ahead, but when all went quiet behind him, a furtive glance over his shoulder showed that although the couple were giving each other side glances, they were now walking hand in hand, and the tension between them had noticeably diminished.
As they all approached the memorial which commemorated the Potter family and the unfortunate events of seventeen years ago, Harry stopped before it with burning cheeks. "You know, Mum and Dad would have been mortified by this."
Severus snorted, but said nothing as he kept walking.
"What was that for?" Harry challenged.
Stopping suddenly―which caused Hermione to catapult back into him―Severus told the younger wizard matter-of-factly, "I'm sure they would have been mortified: Lily out of embarrassment, and your father because that really is a most unflattering representation of him."
Incensed, Harry snarled, "Don't you—"
"Look at it, Harry," Severus interjected smoothly. "Put it this way, whoever the Ministry appointed to do that won't be sculpting the memorial at Hogwarts," the headmaster advised before he and Hermione continued towards the parish church where Lily and James Potter had been laid to rest within its graveyard.
Harry stood rooted to the spot for a moment before a chuckle began to rise from his chest. "No, you're right. Dad would have hated it."
Catching up with Severus and Hermione again, the three of them continued towards their intended destination, indulging in small talk until they stood outside the entrance. Hermione noticed that both wizards were hesitant to proceed, so she grabbed their hands and led the pair of them into the cemetery so they all could pay their respects.

A lump formed in Harry's throat as he stood, once again, before his parents' grave. Somehow, on the anniversary of their deaths, the experience felt more painful than at any other time. He knelt down, and, out of his satchel, he produced a bouquet of flowers, to replace the one he'd left last time he was here.
"Shit!" Severus muttered to Hermione. The couple were keeping a respectful distance to allow Harry some time with his thoughts. But when Severus saw the younger wizard place the flowers he'd brought carefully at the base of the headstone, he suddenly realised that he'd turned up empty handed.
Hermione anxiously looked up at him but immediately realised the reason for his mumbled outburst. "What?"
"I should have―"
Letting go of his hand, Hermione opened her own bag and pulled out a bouquet of lilies. "―Brought some flowers?"
Amazed once again by his witch's forethought, Severus squeezed her hand appreciatively. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd feel bad about not thinking to bring flowers for one," Hermione supplied with a soft, knowing smile.
Severus looked down and snarled playfully at Hermione, and was about to respond when an Apparition crack came from directly behind them. A startled Ginny Weasley soon found herself with two wands pressed into her throat.
"Hey, it's only me!" the young redhead shrieked, holding her hands up to show that she wasn't armed.
"So we can see, Ginevra," Severus sneered, finally pulling his wand away and stowing it in one fluid movement. "However, when one is not expected, it is advisable to Apparate further down the street and then announce one's presence in a less abrupt manner. It tends to prevent unnecessary hexing."
"We're in a Muggle area, and you just drew your wand," Ginny retorted, trying to save some face from Severus' rebuke.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I cast a Concealment charm as I drew my wand," he interjected with a low growl. "It is also advisable to have your wand in a drawable position when Apparating on one's own―"
"But I knew you would be here," Ginny protested petulantly.
"And you were lucky that we were," the headmaster admonished, bearing down on the witch as he berated her. "The war may be over, but that does not mean we can let our guard down. Have you learnt nothing from my lessons? And Miss Weasley, I was not aware that you had gained your Apparition Licence, and who gave you permission to leave the school?"
Ginny imploringly looked to Hermione to stop Severus' censure, but the curly-haired witch knew that being headmaster―and even her being a professor―Severus had responsibility for the safety and wellbeing of the students. However, this was her friend; a girl who Severus would―albeit reluctantly―sit down on their sofa with and conduct everyday conversations, and now she was being subjected to the Professor Snape of old.
Hermione knew this incarnation of Severus had been summoned because he was uptight, and she tried to rein him in by gently touching her arm. "Sev, not now," she whispered, jerking her head towards Harry.
Severus scowled at her menacingly, but Hermione stood her ground and shook her head, as Harry, who had heard the Apparition crack, was now greeting his ex-girlfriend with an awkward hug. "What are you doing here?"
Initially melting into Harry's arms, Ginny came to her senses and pulled back to put a little space between them. "Well, I bumped into your girlfriend, and she said you were coming here. I didn't think you should be here alone," she admitted quietly before saying loudly enough for Severus to hear, "and luckily I bumped into Luna and Draco, so I asked Professor Malfoy for permission to come, so here I am."
Harry pulled Ginny back against him, squeezing her tight. "Thanks Gin. I'm so glad you're here," he whispered in her ear. Releasing her from his embrace but keeping his arm around her, he said, "Come on," whilst a wide-eyed Severus and Hermione looked between themselves and at two people who were now stood before the Potter's grave with their arms around one another.

"I never know what to say to you," Harry said quietly, looking at the grave before him. "I suppose I'll start with the big news, though I don't know how happy you'll be. I'm the new Head of Slytherin. I'd like to say that I was appointed because I'm the best man for the job, but, unfortunately, Slughorn is dying. Severus asked me to be Head of House, and it's still sinking in really, but I think I can do some good in this role. Severus' plans for integrating the houses more seem to be working well, and I'm actually quite proud that I can help implement them.
"Work is fine. I haven't killed a student yet. The Duelling Club starts in a few weeks. I'm not looking forward to the first exhibition match though. Severus said Expeliarmus won't save my arse against him as it has with everyone else. And I know he's right because I've only had one wand fight with Professor Snape before, and he rather wiped the floor with me. What are the chances of him going easy on me this time? Yeah, I know, not a kneazle's chance in hell. I better think up some new tactics, I suppose."
Harry huffed as Severus muttered in the background, "I should bloody well hope so."
"Oh, it's the season opener today. We're playing Hufflepuff. Hopefully we'll win, but it will be tight. We still haven't found a new Seeker so I'm standing in, and, honestly, we're poor this season. Well, apart from Ginny. Oh, this is Ginny, by the way," he said, tightening his grip on the witch's waist. "She didn't want me to be on my own, but, actually I wasn't because Severus and Hermione came with me."
After Hermione had managed to banish Professor Snape, she'd felt Severus take her hand gently in his, but as Harry continued to talk to his parents, the circulation in her hand was being slowly cut off by his tightening grip.
Ten minutes later, Harry stepped aside, and Severus now stood silently before the grave of his childhood best friend and the woman whom he sought to protect by changing the path of his life.. After a few stuttered apologies both to her and her husband for not being able to save them, he cleared his throat, and began, "I apologise for my tardiness in visiting. I have been rather preoccupied for the last seventeen years. You know, Lils, you―and you too, Potter―should be very proud of your son. He's a typical Gryffindor, and made my life a living hell―he is undoubtedly your son, James―but when the time came, he didn't flinch from his task, just as I know neither of you would have done. It saddens me that I was unable to witness his triumph over the bastard personally―although, you know me; I would have probably taken far too much delight in ensuring that he was actually dead. However, the fact that he is no more means that we can now work towards building the kind of world for which you fought."
Hermione had wanted to stand by and support her partner, but he'd shaken his head as she went to walk with him towards the grave. She understood why he needed to stand there alone, and she, like Ginny, was now standing with her arm threaded through Harry's. She couldn't help but smile as Severus' Mancunian accent slipped through occasionally when he spoke to Lily.
"I would like you to know," the tall, dark wizard continued, "that although I made a promise to Albus to keep Harry safe, I have not fully discharged myself of the duty. He has the makings of a fine professor―one that I am proud to have on my staff. I do, however, wish he'd sort his love life out. It's becoming quite tedious." Severus paused, and turned to witness Hermione snorting into Harry's shoulder, and Mr Potter and Miss Weasley, looking at the ground with their cheeks aglow.
"And I know you would be rolling your eyes at me," he continued, "and telling me to sort my own love life out before berating your son over his, but I have. I've nearly ruined it a few times as you would expect, but the daft woman still insists that she loves me. Perhaps it's because she's a bloody Gryffindor too, and I am obviously a glutton for punishment, but it's just as well that she stands by me because I don't know what I would do without Hermione.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you, Lily, but the hole that you left has been filled more times over than I ever imagined possible or ever thought I deserved. I hope that James made you, and continues to make you as happy as Hermione makes me. Fear not, I'm still a sardonic bastard, but I do know that rather than just trying to save her, I would die for her."
The sound of stifled sobs coming from Hermione and Ginny ruined his chain of thought, and turning round, he held his hand out to his witch, who gladly accepted it and the comfort of his arms. He kissed Hermione's hair and took one last look at the grave before him.
"I think it's time to say goodbye, Lils," he said quietly, and, with those words, any niggling concerns that Hermione may have had that Severus still harboured feelings for Harry's mother, were quashed.
With a courteous nod, Severus took a step back, and as Harry said his goodbyes―with a promise to return soon―and the four of them prepared to Disapparate, Severus looked down at the witch in his arms, and felt one of the heaviest weights in his soul lifting away.

The opening Quidditch match of the season was over, and Severus was sat in his living room surrounded by victorious Gryffindors.
Missy had just placed a tray of four steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of chocolate biscuits onto the coffee table as Angelina Johnson howled with laughter on the sofa. "I can't get over Professor Sprout. Who knew she could swear like that?"
"Pomona does indeed have a very colourful vocabulary when required," Severus smirked knowingly as Hermione handed mugs to George and Angelina, and then to her wizard before curling up in the armchair opposite him.
"But how come we never heard the staff swearing from the stands when we were students?" Angelina chuckled, shivering as she cradled her mug.
"Because we are fortunate enough to have Filius as our Charms Professor. He casts an expletive filtering charm. When an expletive slips forth, those outside the wards hear nothing but well mannered remarks," Severus explained.
"And there we were thinking you were all boring old farts who were into tartan blankets, and sherry," George laughed before quickly adding as Severus glared at him, "well apart from you. We were never sure what you were into."
"Certainly neither of those," Severus scowled before Angelina shivered again.
George put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah. I just got really cold out there."
"You were cold?" George whined, gawping at her in disbelief. "You should have been up there flying. I don't think we'll be having sex until my bits thaw out."
Hermione and Severus looked at each other; their eyes burning with amusement at the couple who seemed to have forgotten that they had company.
"Excuse me, I've played in worse. Bloody hell, you've played in worse weather than this," Angelina retorted into her hot chocolate.
"Yes, but refereeing is completely different. You'll back me up won't you, Severus?"
"Kindly leave me out of this," Severus implored, sipping his hot chocolate before adding, "besides, have you not heard of warming charms?"
George contemplated this for a moment, "You make a good point," and then turning back to Angelina said, "Have you not heard of warming charms?"
Hermione looked at Severus mirthfully as Angelina laughed sarcastically in George's face before the headmaster decided to interrupt their friendly lover's jousting, by stating, "Of course, you no longer have to worry about unfreezing your tackle from a broomstick."
"Yeah, what a shame!" George chortled, running his hand affectionately over Angelina's leg.
"Are you sure you do not mind this change? It was rather foisted upon me by the Ministry, and―"
"Honestly, it's fine. Ron needs something to do, and I'm sure he'll be glad to get away from Mum―"
"Yeah, Fleur said that Molly was making him do all sorts of chores around the house by hand―no magic," Angie giggled.
"How is Fleur?" Hermione asked. "I keep meaning to invite her over for coffee―"
"By coffee you means ze camomile tea," George mocked.
"She's pregnant, George, with your niece," his girlfriend sighed. "She's just looking after herself."
"Oh, I wouldn't have known she was pregnant. I thought she was martyring herself," George grumbled, still unable to hide his dislike of his sister-in-law.
Severus' brow furrowed, thankful that Lucius was not around to hear Fleur being spoken about in such a way. His dark eyes fell on his own soulmate, knowing that if anyone spoke about her in such a way, he would not be able to hold his tongue or stay his wand. And somehow knowing that Lucius would feel the same way, he found himself asking, "Pray tell, how did the conversation degenerate into the denigration of your sister-in-law?"
"Ron!" Hermione and Angelina said together.
"Allow me to express my surprise," Severus deadpanned.
"Anyway, I've got more than enough to deal with," George said quietly. "Not that I haven't enjoyed teaching some of the kids to fly, but with the business expanding quicker than expected―well, I don't know if I'd have been able to carry on for much longer, to be honest."
"Your mother was telling me that you were seeking extra lab space."
"Well, not so much extra space, but a larger lab that isn't next door to our bedroom," the ginger-haired wizard said giving his witch a watery smile.
"We could move, but then it would take time to build the lab, and we don't need the disruption," Angelina admitted. "I did suggest that we approach a big Potions company to see if they've got any spare space to rent."
"As it happens I know that Prince Industries have just completed a new complex of laboratories at their Oxfordshire site. If you let me know your requirements I would be more than happy to intercede on your behalf," Severus informed them nonchalantly, trying to ignore Hermione as she practically gawped at him for making such an offer.
"Prince Industries? Really? That would be brilliant, wouldn't it, Angie?"
Angelina nodded as George sat forward and placed his mug on the coffee table. "They were the company that had been developing an anti-venom at the time Dad was attacked. He wouldn't be here without them," the younger wizard reflected.
"Were they really? Well, that was indeed fortuitous," the headmaster agreed dispassionately, careful not to give away the fact that not only was it his company, but it was, in fact, he who had developed that particular anti-venom, whilst Hermione was screaming in his head.
Tell him. Sev; tell him that it was you who created it.
I've told you, the fact that Arthur lives is enough.
But―
Enough!
The look Hermione threw Severus left him in no doubt that she was annoyed. She knew why he didn't want certain of his wartime actions to be revealed, and she would always keep his secrets, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.
Before his trial, the Wizengamot had granted Severus something of a boon as far as he was concerned. Knowing that Harry was amassing public support for Snape's acquittal, they offered the spy the chance, for the sake of his propriety, to state whether there was anything in his defence that he would not want to be admitted, in the hope that he would hang himself. Unfortunately, they forgot they were dealing with a consummate Slytherin and his response was simple: his involvement with Prince Industries, or any potions that had been supplied through Prince Industries to St Mungo's after the Dark Lord's return, was not to be disclosed. His reason was also simple: he didn't want or need anyone's gratitude.
And even now, despite becoming closer to Molly and Arthur, he still didn't want or need their thanks. Not only would it be immensely awkward, but seeing Arthur amongst his family was all the thanks he needed.
George nodded. "Yes. Was it the same anti-venom they used on you?"
"It was similar. After using Nagini against your father, Voldemort knew that he had made her a target. He imbued her with a number of additional protections, one of which was a more potent venom. And having used her once, I knew she may have been deployed again. The Order needed to be prepared in case she was. I just hoped to be proved wrong, but alas!"
Looking at Severus unconsciously running his fingers over the ragged, silvery scar on his neck, George stated, "I'd just like the opportunity to thank someone personally for saving Dad."
Severus placed his mug down on the table beside him. "I should imagine that the knowledge of your father's recovery would be thanks enough."
"Maybe," George sighed before changing the subject slightly. "So, my little sister says that you're teaching Potions again."
"Only at NEWT level until Madam over there completes her apprenticeship," Severus intimated, nodding towards Hermione. "Your sister should consider herself incredibly fortunate," the headmaster said sincerely, but everyone could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
George let out a hearty laugh, still amazed that he could sit in the presence of Severus Snape and feel relaxed.
Hermione rolled her eyes before sipping from her mug. "Yes, he loves being a git, again."
"Again?" Severus queried before a smirk tugged at the corner of the mouth. "I wasn't aware that I'd ever stopped."

The following Thursday afternoon found the headmaster in his office, trying to deal with his paperwork properly rather than employing his usual method of 'one for me; two for the bin'. So far, this week had been more stressful for Severus than usual. It seemed that the knowledge of Slughorn's terminal illness had started to bring back memories of loss for many of the students who had been affected by the war, and the Heads of House and Pastoral Care professors were dealing with all sorts of problems, ranging from simple tears to issues requiring severe disciplinary measures. Mr Filch was the only one who was smiling.
"Is something troubling you, Severus?"
The headmaster looked up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore and shrugged. "I'm teaching NEWT level Potions again; I clear one pile of paperwork and another mysteriously appears. Horace is dying, the students are having an emotional breakdown, we can't test the Luciferan theory as Shacklebolt has fucked off on an unscheduled holiday for two weeks, I have our new spy coming to see me today, and then I have a meeting with the Golden Trio. However, Hermione doesn't know that it's a meeting of the Golden Trio, and is therefore is unaware that Mr Weasley will be here. Why would anything be troubling me?"
Dumbledore didn't respond but asked, "How is Hermione? I haven't spoken to her in a while."
"She's fine. She's busy. We're all fucking busy!"
"Indeed, you are. It was a bold move to employ young Mr Weasley as a spy."
"It was," Severus grumbled as he looked over the weekly Pastoral Care reports. His mood was somewhat appeased by Hermione's familiar script, but it also served as a reminder of how little time he'd spent with her this week.
"It is not easy managing a spy, Severus," Dumbledore offered in a tone which reminded the headmaster of all the times Albus would appear at his shoulder, trying to steal a look at whatever it was he was doing.
Throwing the parchment down his desk, the surly wizard looked up to meet the expectant gaze emanating from the portrait. "I am aware," he said in a low, gravelly drawl, "but, then again, I do not intend to employ emotional blackmail to manage our spy."
"Headmaster, you wound me," Dumbledore recoiled, but by the twinkle in his eyes, Severus knew he was goading him.
"I would love to apologise, but I find the words escape me," Severus sneered, drumming his fingers on his desk. "However, I have learnt much from my own experiences, and have promised Weasley that he will be well supported. He is a valuable asset."
"And has he made contact?"
"On Saturday, although he told Arthur there was no direct contact." Severus twisted his mouth in consternation, pondering the situation. "Of course, we don't know if Yaxley took the Luciferan Polyjuice, but, if he did, he must have taken it either just before or after the Ministry Ball. In which case, Ronald won't have direct contact unless Yaxley chooses to reveal his true identity."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. "He would need to see Mr Weasley as a confidante first."
The former spy tensed and, with unfocused eyes, said, "There are only a few pieces of information which would establish Weasley in that position quickly, and I am not prepared to do that, at least without discussing it with Hermione first."
"Of course, but from what I've gathered, you have the time advantage," Dumbledore pressed gently.
Severus chose to ignore the portrait, and continued. "I am also concerned that the use of this variant Polyjuice is much more extensive. Dolohov has seemingly disappeared, and yet an overheard conversation possibly points to Poliakov not being whom he purports to be. And as for Harkinssen and Sexton...do you remember Harold Sexton?"
"I do. He wasn't at all remarkable, although I always felt as if he were hiding his light behind a bushel," the former headmaster recalled.
Severus was contemplating Dumbledore's comment when the fireplace roared to life, and Ron Weasley stepped out into his office.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley," Severus greeted, gesturing towards the three chairs in front of the desk. "Tea or coffee?"
"Er, coffee, please," Ron said, taken aback by the abrupt pleasantries as Severus called Missy and ordered coffee for four on the basis that Harry always had coffee and Hermione wouldn't care what beverage she was offered. That was, of course, if she stayed to have coffee as Severus had omitted to tell her the true purpose for calling her to his office after her lesson was finished.
"Ah, Ronald, how are you? Are your parents well?" Dumbledore's portrait chimed. Ron turned to see the elderly blue eyed wizard smiling down at him, and smiled as he confirmed that he and his parents were well before being engaged further in mindless small talk.
As Missy arrived, Severus decided to call a halt to Albus' prattling, wanting to get down to business. "Before Professors Granger and Potter arrive, we have urgent matters to discuss. So, Ronald, were you welcomed back with open arms?"
"I wouldn't go that far. I didn't see Yaxley―at least, I don't think I did. I went into the One Eyed Witch on Friday night and said I was looking for an old friend. I was told to come back the next night. So, I did. I was shown into a back room where there was a hooded figure who called himself Andrew."
Severus sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled. "Observations?"
"I didn't see his face. He didn't get up, but I'd say he was about your height," Ron advised. "I couldn't place his accent. It was almost as if he was trying to disguise it. It reminded me of when Fleur tries to do an English accent."
"You believe he is of foreign descent? Could it have been Dolohov?"
"No. Dolohov is too short, and his voice sounded too young."
"Excellent," Severus praised, scribbling a short missive on a piece of parchment, before calling Obs.
"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed as the large black owl landed gracefully on the back of Severus' chair. He began to eye his master's visitor carefully, seemingly remembering the infamous day when he delivered Hermione's letter informing the redhead that their relationship was over. Ron hadn't given him a treat, and Obsidian was very much like his master in holding a grudge.
"Long distance, I'm afraid, Obsidian," Severus drawled, tying the note to his familiar's leg. "For Our Friend From The East's eyes only. Understand?"
Obsidian bowed his head, and Severus took a treat out of his desk drawer and offered it to the bird, who accepted it with a screech of thanks, before flying off on his journey.
"Our Friend From The East?" Ron asked curiously.
"Indeed," Severus smirked before continuing. "What else did you talk about?"
"Fine; don't tell me," Ron groused.
"The less you know of our other activities, the less you have to conceal. I am merely lightening your burden," Severus informed him cautiously.
Ron remained unconvinced, but continued. "He asked how I'd found Azkaban. I laid it on thick. I told them I wanted to get my own back on Hermione for showing me up, and if I hated you before, then I certainly hate you now. I said I was willing to help in any way they saw fit, and was told to return in two weeks."
Severus arched a thoughtful eyebrow. "Any reasons given as to why you should not return sooner?"
"No, I was dismissed before I could ask," Ron admitted, hoping that he hadn't messed up. For some reason, the last thing he wanted was for Snape to start yelling about his lack of information.
However, to his surprise, all Severus did was write down the information and smoothly remark, "An excellent first report."
Ron shook his head incredulously. "But I hardly told you anything."
The headmaster shrugged. "I beg to differ," he said, sitting forward and resting his arms on the desk. Entwining his fingers, Severus entreated, "Your role as a spy is, of course, to pass on key pieces of information, but it is also to help fill in a few blanks. Unfortunately, unless we specifically inform you of a blank that we need filling, you may not know our exact requirements, which is why your vigilance is crucial. Never discount anything; observe everything including the tone of someone's voice. Do not dismiss anything that you see or hear. Everything you see and hear is of interest to me. Never forget that."
The younger wizard looked at the man seated before him, realising that his dreaded Potions and Defence professor was actually giving him valuable advice. "I won't. Thanks."
"Ah, we have a visitor." Severus announced, inclining his head graciously when he felt the wards vibrate, which caused Ron to turn his head towards the door.

Professor Potter entered the office moments later, and before the door had even shut, he asked, "You wanted to see me about next week's media circus, Headmaster?" However, when Harry saw that his old school friend was also in the room, he stopped in his tracks.
"Alright, mate?" Ron asked sheepishly, standing to greet his former friend, his hands pushed hard into his front pockets.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, you?"
"Yeah, not bad."
"Good."
Ron rocked on his heels, continuing with his small talk. "Still with Cho?"
"Nah. Split up."
"Right."
The two Gryffindors stood examining the rug they were standing on, and an awkward silence accompanied Severus' eye rolling before he groused, "I never realised how thrilling a monosyllabic conversation could be. Sit down, the pair of you, before the strain of selecting your next word causes you serious harm."
"Git!" Harry muttered lightheartedly.
Ron flinched as he anticipated Severus' enraged response, but was somewhat surprised when all the headmaster said was, "Indeed. I would so hate to disappoint. Now, gentlemen, I will give you fair warning, Hermione doesn't know that you're here, Ronald, and she is certainly not amused by the Ministry's decision to wheel you three out on Monday."
Ron looked confused. "But you said―"
"I said that she still cares about your wellbeing. That does not mean that she is thrilled by the Ministry's plans, or enraptured by being in your presence."
"That's true, mate. She does still care," Harry confirmed, "but she's still not very happy with you."
Ron chuckled mirthlessly. "No change there."
"Well, we will soon be able to determine the level of her animosity," Severus enlightened as his witch opened the door.
Hermione froze. "Severus, what the hell is he―"
"I thought―"
"Obviously you didn't."
"You knew this day was coming," Severus reasoned, feeling her anger and magic crackling.
Hermione's eyes widened at his comment. "Yes, but I'd hoped it would still be coming."
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, sit down and have some coffee."
"I don't want any damned coffee," she huffed, slumping down on the other side of Harry, still glaring at Severus and refusing to look at Ron. Seeing him again made her realise that she'd still not forgiven her ex-boyfriend for what he'd done to her wizard. The fact that Ron had decided to forgive Hermione for hospitalising him was neither here nor there.
"Alright, 'Mione?" Ron asked tentatively.
"I've told you before, you've lost all right to call me 'Mione, Ronald."
"Fair enough," Ron grumbled. "Alright, Hermione?"
Harry sniggered at Ron's persistence. Even Severus saw some amusement in it.
"I am fine, thank you very much," Hermione replied haughtily.
"Excellent., Well, now that we are all here, there is much to discuss," Severus advised, throwing Hermione a cautionary glance.
Calm down, he whispered in her mind.
How could you call me without telling me he'd be here? I thought you actually wanted to see me.
You probably wouldn't have turned up if I'd told you, but, of course, I want to see you. Stay behind afterwards and I'll show you how much.
An unconvinced Hmmm was all he heard back.
Severus went over the details for the Ministry's press conference, where it would be announced that a memorial ceremony would be held at Hogwarts to celebrate the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat. Once he'd finished, it was obvious that none of the Golden Trio were impressed, but all for completely different reasons. Harry was the first to express his reluctance at being thrust into the limelight again. Although he'd experienced some hero worship from the students, it was actually far less than when he set foot outside the school grounds, and he was rather enjoying leading a fairly normal life.
Ron began playing with his nails. "Yeah, and I'm certainly not looking forward to Monday, and―"
"You're not the only one," Hermione grumbled under her breath.
"―And I'm certainly not looking forward to the Memorial," Ron griped, raising his voice in exasperation at her interruption. "Do you think my parents and my brothers and sister will look forward to it? How do you think George is going to feel?"
Hermione blushed, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her. Looking to Severus for support, she was surprised when none was forthcoming. All he said to her was Stop acting like a brat!
With tears prickling her eyes, she cleared her throat, sat up straight, and said, "Is that all you wanted to discuss? I need to prepare for my next lesson."
Severus could have been a bastard and pointed out that she wasn't teaching again until tomorrow morning, but he refrained. "If it cannot wait, then you may go," he clipped, dismissing her.
Hermione stood, muttered her goodbyes, and exited the office swiftly. As the door closed, Severus thumped his head against the back of his chair. When he spoke moments later, it was obvious that he'd made a decision. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen; take this opportunity to reacquaint yourselves. I will return in due course."
Harry looked at Ron as Severus obviously left his office to go after Hermione. "Brave man," he mumbled.
Ron snorted. "Mental more like."

Hermione was already at the end of the corridor when Severus called after her. "You were very remiss back there."
Turning to face him, she spat, "No, you were remiss for not telling me he'd be there. Alright, I was a little insensitive, but you cannot have a go at me when―"
"Sweetheart, what's done is done. Do you think it's easy for me to sit there and be pleasant? It isn't, but I have to do so. And I expect the same from you."
"I thought I'd be alright seeing him again...I really did," Hermione whispered, wiping away the tears that were now rolling down her face.
"Obviously not," Severus sighed, walking slowly towards her. "However, I didn't come out here to argue with you. I came out here because I was concerned, and I also said I'd show you how much I wanted to see you. Unfortunately, your early departure from my office made that rather problematic."
Hermione's brow furrowed sceptically. "You came out here to tell me that?"
"No, I came out here to give you this," he told her, pulling her close and pressing his lips softly against hers before guiding her into an alcove away from prying eyes. He kissed her again, but with more passion than they had shared for the last few days.
Hermione moaned softly, realising just how much she missed sharing this with Severus. Given the increase in their work responsibilities, and between her studying and his visits with Horace, the couple hadn't made love for the past five days. By the time they actually got to bed, the only rolling between the sheets that occurred was when the one who'd come to bed last, rolled over to cuddle up behind the one who was already asleep. Of course, they'd still kissed and found comfort in each other's arms, but everything seemed like a stolen moment, and it was beginning to get her down.
However, the fact that Severus had come after her and was now devouring her mouth like a starved man, had somewhat lifted her spirits, even though they both knew that this could be no more than a passionate kiss. However, Severus was determined to show her how much she meant to him in that moment.
Gasping for air, Hermione broke the kiss before gently tugging on Severus' bottom lip. "Bastard," she whispered against his mouth playfully.
"Guilty, you judgemental bitch," he retorted, unbuttoning her robes and palming her shirt-covered breast as his lips crashed against hers once again.
"Guilty," she groaned softly, squeezing the bulge in his trousers. "I should go and apologise to him, really."
"I wouldn't go that far, you tease," Severus mumbled before his tongue plundered her mouth greedily. Reluctantly pulling away with her hands still in his, he said, "We'll have an early night tonight, I promise."
Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him desperately. "I've missed you so much."
"I know, and I've missed you too, but the school is unsettled and I have to be available, although I appreciate that we need time together. So tonight, we're going out for dinner, and when we come back, I am going to do all manner of filthy things with you," he purred. "Is that acceptable?"
"Very!"
"Good. Now, I must go and ensure that those two haven't killed each other. That rug by my desk is 600 years old according to Albus, and I was never allowed to bleed on it, so I don't see why either of those two should."
"Since when have you cared about antique rugs?"
"Since some witch keeps thrusting colour charts and furniture brochures in my face."
"But you love it."
She giggled as Severus' eyebrow arched playfully before he cupped her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. "I love seeing you happy."
"I love you."
"And I you. Now, Professor Granger, you have an imaginary lesson to prepare for," Severus told her, playfully swatting her backside.
Hermione gasped, trying to look taken aback, but her eyes were sparkling too much.

Everything came to a head on the following Friday. The Ministry press conference had gone surprisingly well, but that night and every night since, there had been unexpectedly heavy snowfalls for November. Although the fires were burning brightly and Professor Flitwick had increased the ambient temperature in all the main public and living areas―a feature that Professor McGonagall had insisted the headmaster consider during the renovations―there was still a chill in the air, and not just in terms of physical temperature.
Despite their early night last Thursday, things had steadily become worse for Severus and Hermione. They were still working hard, but in the last week, Horace had deteriorated rapidly, and Severus had been spending longer with him at night. By the time he returned, Hermione was either waiting up for him, looking exhausted, or she was already asleep. Severus would slide into bed, and after a brief kiss and cuddle if his witch woke up, he would lay awake for hours. And when he did eventually manage to drift off, his sleep was plagued by vivid nightmares. Hermione would wake to him thrashing and calling out, and would immediately try to soothe him, holding him until he settled again, but then it was her turn to lie awake. Last night, however, he'd reluctantly accepted the vial of Dreamless Sleep that she'd held out to him as he crawled into bed, but their irregular sleep patterns and lack of intimacy were beginning to take its toll.
The tension emanating from the staff table at breakfast could have had been cut with a knife. Severus had distractedly pushed his bacon and eggs around his plate in between bites. He'd eaten it all, Hermione was pleased to note, but the fact that he had been scowling into his coffee for the last five minutes, without taking a sip, had concerned her.
"Severus, are you going to drink that?" Hermione asked as carefully as possible.
Her answer came in the form of a frustrated growl. "I am."
His witch sighed. "Fine, except staring at it isn't drinking it," she grumbled loudly―at least louder than she'd intended―her voice full of exasperation.
Severus pushed his chair back. "I'm going to my office to drink my coffee in peace," he snarled, and swept away through the Teacher's entrance, slamming the door behind him.
For a split second, the students and staff looked at Hermione with sympathy as her cheeks reddened at the embarrassment of their first public spat. Draco, Harry and Neville all looked at each other, and Harry was about to move to her side, when Neville placed a hand on his arm. They witnessed Hermione's expression harden, and realised that she was not the one who needed their sympathy as she stood to chase down her wizard.

Severus was just about to enter the corridor leading to his office when Hermione reached him. "Don't you dare walk off like that again, Severus," she railed, coming to a standstill and crossing her arms indignantly.
He turned and was bearing down on her so fast that she almost flinched. "And don't you dare speak to me like that again in front of the students."
"So I can't be concerned anymore, then?" Hermione huffed, trying to remain calm even as she felt her anger rising continuously. "Well, fine. Next time, I won't bother," she blustered, taking in big gulps of air to stop herself from crying.
Severus instantly regretted snapping at her twice already that morning, now and previously in the Great Hall. Usually one of his infamously snide comments would have sufficed, but Hermione's constant insistence on making sure he was alright was beginning to grate on him. It wasn't that he was ungrateful, but he just hated how the words "I'm fine" were beginning to catch in his throat every time he forced himself to say them.
The problem was that Severus felt incredibly conflicted. He knew better than anyone that deceit can lie heavily upon a man's shoulders, and yet it was also an effective form of protection. However, when your shield also weighs heavily upon you, it is a blessed relief when you're told that you no longer have to hide; that you can unburden yourself and breathe easily once again. From the very start of their relationship, Hermione had always encouraged him to talk, and he had taken full advantage of her willingness to listen.
Yet, he realised that this cathartic act, especially over the last few weeks, was merely serving to burden his confessor, and he resolved to protect her from worrying more than was necessary. He knew it wasn't healthy for either of them, and was aware that she was employing the same tactic with him. So they danced around the real issues, gritting teeth behind the smiles whilst forcing out, "I'm fine." They were bottling everything up, and this morning it had reached the point where they were both acting like flasks containing volatile potions that were threatening to push out the stopper.
"Hermione, I―"
"No, it's fine. Do you know what? I'm past caring; I really am. Just remember we're going to the cottage tonight," she told him, turning on her heel and storming back towards the Great Hall.
Severus stood aghast. He had no idea what Hermione meant by being past caring, but the fact that she refused his apology made his chest constrict. And he certainly couldn't recall agreeing to go to the cottage later. "When the hell did I agree to that?"
The retreating form of the woman who meant everything to him, turned and screamed back at him like a wounded animal, "You know full well when!"
The recollection hit him like the Hogwarts Express. Over the last few weeks, they had met up with Pius and Simeon Hutchinson, the healer who would be accompanying Severus and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement to Australia in a few weeks time. It had completely slipped his mind that tonight they were going to discuss the final plan in detail. Severus closed his eyes and castigated himself.
No wonder she's so bloody worked up you insensitive, fucking arsehole.
"Hermione, wait! I―"
But she was gone, taking his orb with her. He tried to apologise through their connection, but was met with a wall of silence. And yet he refrained from bombarding her with apologies because he knew, from past experience, that it would serve no fruitful purpose. So he carried on to his office, accompanied by Hermione's orb. The only pleasure he got from the subject of their altercation―the cup of coffee still in his hand―was when he hurled it against his office wall, causing the portrait of Phyllida Spore to wake up with a screech.

Most of the staff had left to go about their duties when Hermione returned to the Great Hall. She sat down with the usual air of grace and dignity that she seemed to exude these days, and stared dejectedly at her abandoned bowl of honey and banana porridge that Filius had thoughtfully cast a warming spell over. Minerva looked over at the younger witch with concern as she noticed her reddened eyes.
After realising that she no longer had an appetite, Hermione pushed the bowl away and was startled when a hand landed on her shoulder. For a split second, the hope that Severus had come back left her giddy, but the hand was too cold, too small and too bony to be him.
Patting Hermione's shoulder gently, the Head of Gryffindor whispered, "Come and have a cup of tea in my office, dear," before leading a surprisingly acquiescent Professor Granger out of the public gaze.

Minerva sighed as Hermione tried to take up as little space as possible in one of her armchairs. Handing her a cup of tea, she asked, "Would you like to talk about this morning?"
"It's fine. It was just a tiff," the younger witch replied flatly, but the words and tone were not marrying in Minerva's astute ears.
"Biscuit?"
"No, thanks," Hermione replied quietly, cradling the tartan decorated china with both hands.
The older witch observed her former charge carefully. She'd known Hermione long enough to recognise the signs of her retreating into herself. Pushing the biscuit tin under the Potions professor's nose, she asked once again, "Biscuit?"
"No, I said―" Hermione snapped before realising that her response was not only rude, but a dead giveaway that not all was well in the Snape/Granger household. "I'm sorry, Minerva that came out―"
"Exactly as I expected it to, my dear. Now, take a damned biscuit and tell me what's wrong?"
Hermione looked at her former Head of House and felt her bottom lip beginning to tremble. Biting down on it, she tried to stop the tears from welling up, and her rapid blinking had the Transfiguration professor Summoning a box of tissues as she continued to wave the box of Shortbread Petticoat Tails at the witch.
Putting down her tea, Hermione took one of the proffered treats and began to nibble the pointed end demurely as she tried to keep calm.
Realising that Hermione doubted her own ability to speak without crying, Minerva handed Hermione a tissue and continued, "Neither of you look well, and as obvious as it is when the two of you have had a fight, you never bicker in public. For as long as I have known that young man, he only ever acts like that when he is emotionally wounded. I did not witness his behaviour after the death of Albus, but I did after the death of his mother and Lily―especially Lily. And you...you only bicker when someone you care about is worrying you. So, young lady, what is going on?"
Hermione placed her half eaten shortbread next to her tea, and started playing with her nails. "We're both so tired, and we hardly see each other. I think everything's just finally got on top of us. He's been having nightmares again after weeks without one, and it's affecting both of us. I thought he was getting better."
"He is, and that is down to you," her mentor praised, taking a sip of her tea.
Hermione looked at the floor, and gave a brief smile before her lips pressed tightly together. She then scrunched up her eyes as the tears began to flow.
"The trouble is," the curly-haired witch continued, "I don't know what's worse. Ever since we've been together I've encouraged him to talk to me about anything that's bothering him. And, in fairness, he does...or rather he has been. Recently it's been really hard because he's not being an arse, but he's had so much to deal with, and then he spends the evenings with Horace. When he comes home, if I'm awake, we talk, but I know he's holding things back, and that is so frustrating."
"Is that the only source of frustration?"
"I...I don't know what you―"
"No need to be coy, young lady."
Hermione swallowed hard. "It sounds so selfish, but we've hardly...well, you know. All he wants to do is...well, cuddle, if we do anything at all."
"Hermione, dear, you're not being selfish, for Merlin's sake. You're both young, human and very much in love, but my understanding is that soul bonds are reputedly rather demanding in that department," Minerva chuckled knowingly. "And it comes as no revelation to me that Severus enjoys a cuddle―"
"Don't remind me. I was horrified when you found us in bed."
"When you're Head of House, believe me, some of the sights you see make you want to Obliviate yourself. Finding you two in bed cuddling was one of my more pleasant discoveries, especially as I had expected to see his pale, skinny backside―"
"I happen to love that pale, skinny backside," Hermione interjected defiantly, "and it's quite squeezable actually."
"There, that's better," Minerva said triumphantly into her tea. "But you know if you're feeling the need to alleviate certain tensions I know a perfectly good Transfiguration spell for―"
"Oh no, I won't need that. Last time we were in London, we went toy shopping," Hermione blurted out before she clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified at her admittance, but also embarrassed that Minerva had offered to give her a spell to transfigure herself a dildo.
"Good for you," Minerva said approvingly before reverting back to the real topic of conversation. "I'm not concerned about your lack of sleep or sex because both of those are easily rectified. But what concerns me is that Severus has been spending so much time with Horace, and I think he is using the situation as his chance to do for Horace what he wanted to do for Albus, Lily and possibly even his mother and grandmother. You see, when my Elphinstone was taken from me, I was in a state of shock. It was accident. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. I had no time to tell him what I should have told him. Of course, I mourned and grieved for him, but at his funeral I felt nothing.
"When his brother was dying, I saw that as my chance to make up for what I couldn't do for my husband. I cried more for his brother than I did for my husband, and I fear that when Horace passes, Severus will look on it as the passing of a loved one. I also believe that his guilt will get the better of him, and I must warn you, my dear, that his emotional and magical backlashes are terrifying."
Hermione looked at her knees, nodding slowly to show her understanding. "I just don't know if I'm strong enough to cope with that," she admitted, tears still cascading down her cheeks.
"Do you love him?" Minerva asked gently.
Nodding rapidly, Hermione blurted out, "More than anything."
"Then when the time comes, you will find the strength, and be whatever he needs you to be in that moment."
It was at this point that Hermione broke down into wracking sobs, and Minerva simply put a comforting arm around the younger witch until she had cried herself out. "Thank you," she said with a watery smile as she finally managed to compose herself.
"If there is one thing I am certain of, Miss Granger, it is that you are the best thing that's ever happened to that man. Now cast a glamour. It won't do for the students to see that you've been crying, especially over the headmaster. The rumour mill in this place is vicious enough as is without adding fuel to the fire. This school needs Severus to be strong, and he is. He's a stubborn mule most of the time, but he needs you. You are in a unique position, my dear. You are the power behind the throne. Now, remember which house you belong to, and walk out of that door with your head held high."
Hermione nodded, smoothing her robes as she stood. When she reached the door, she turned and smiled at the woman whose inner strength she had admired for so many years. "Thank you, Minerva," she said before heading off to her first lesson of the day.
When the door closed, Minerva sighed before muttering to herself, "Time to go out for a run." Moments later a tabby cat slipped out of the Deputy Headmistress' office, en route to its favourite stalking grounds with the other cats of the castle: the dungeons.

AN: Things might not look great, but life can be an arse, and often it makes us stronger when we come out the other side.
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The Headmaster's Wife