Only then had he looked at Draco's notes. And the ice had grown papery thin. Hearts on his notes. Hearts with initials in them. Not only, and he could have lived with that, an A and a D in those hearts — but, and then the metaphorical blades he used to skate over the metaphorical ice had suddenly burst into flames as well, an S and an H. Partnered with the sly grin, Severus had felt sorely tempted to just punch the boy. Granger had seemed oblivious to that, even with the sly grin that had been there even when she had been there. And when she had left, it had only grown.
"Well, well, well," the boy said as soon as they had watched Draco apparate from the garden, his arms crossed over his chest to fend off the cold, smirking at him.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, there is nothing to smirk about," huffed Severus.
"Did you or did you not stare at her? Did she not admire you? She was making eyes at you, Uncle Severus. Honestly. I tell you, she's..."
"One more word, Draco, and you will sleep in the bathtub," remarked Severus off-handedly. "I do not care what you think Granger thinks or what you think I think."
"I can always ask to go back to my old room over there," he smirked, then turned serious and towards him, put his hand gently on his arm and all the smirks and innuendos were gone. "I know," he said slowly, "what it's like to be loved and then not to be loved."
Without saying another word, with only a further pat on Severus's arm, he climbed over the wall and only looked at him briefly. "I will bring Aideen to Uni later. She asked me."
Severus stared at his godson's back, and tried very hard not to look utterly stupid. The boy had...what was it that he had said precisely? That he was back for good now? That he still loved Aideen? That being loved was preferable to not being loved? That boy had no idea. There were kinds of loves that were most certainly preferable to others. But that was about the extent of it.
So, he had taken a good look at Granger's bum. Who could blame him? She was quite young and her arse did look like her thighs had felt. Firm. But this was to look at, not to touch. Young girl with a perky arse. Who would not look if the situation presented itself in such a way.
But that didn't mean that he thought too much about her or thought about her at all, or that he was in any way attracted to her. Love? Preposterous. There was, he believed, one person who had so far in his life told him that they loved him. That person was Eleanor. And the maternal love was about all he could manage, all he wanted. Granger? Granger had nothing to do with it, and only because she apparently gushed over him, and because she had swayed her hips in his direction and only because he had looked at her bum didn't mean anything.
He shook his head to himself and, the cold seeping into his jumper, he went back into his kitchen and sat down at the table. Neither his godson nor Granger had managed to put their cup away at least in the sink. Now, he had given both of them some tea, and both had finished their tea and their cups were still on his table. And he without a dishwasher. Well, Draco could do that when he returned. Would serve him right, especially because he was too kind-hearted to actually make him sleep in the bathtub.
It didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter that he had been surprised at the way she had so quietly been able to work and had only mentioned the few things she wanted Draco to jot down, the way her hair had fallen in her face softly or the way she had smiled at him warmly. It didn't matter. The chapter in front of him mattered and he needed to maybe get some more references. Or get Draco and Granger to get some references.
Grumbling, he put the cups in his sink and made himself a fresh cup as well before he sat down again, his eyes on the old book. He used to have one like that once. Maybe this had been his once. No, there were absolutely no markings in it, nothing underlined. Pristine condition. Probably Granger had bought it just for that. But that didn't matter either. He had a task and had to go to his Morphology class later.
.
It had been very clear. Their treatment of her had been only to provoke her. Snape couldn't possibly be interested in her bum and he would, most certainly, not look at her from his side as her hair was falling over her eyes. And she was most certainly not thinking about him. Not on her way to Uni, not during her lecture, not during the time in the library and not during lunch, not during the other lecture and not on her way back to London, when she actually contemplated whether she shouldn't just go back to Manchester and work on the curse some more.
No, she hadn't. She hadn't thought about his black eyes never leaving her or spent her time wondering whether she was just imagining it. Not at all. It was simply ridiculous. The man was twenty years her senior. The man had a past darker than any night in the year. The man wasn't good looking or handsome and he certainly wasn't charming. Oh but he oozed...something.
She knew she had to get a grip. And maybe, just maybe, she needed her friends. Not telling them that she was some sort of object to play with, to sharpen their Slytherin-fangs on for Malfoy and Snape, but just that...she just wanted some peace. She just wanted a good conversation with her friends during which they would — once — listen to her speak. Try to solve her problems.
Not that there was one.
Oh to hell with it, she thought as she entered Grimmauld Place. This entire game of denial was ridiculous and worthy someone ten years her junior. Or maybe five. So, maybe she just had to consciously realise, to agree with herself, that she had a crush on Snape. It wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. And if she came straight to to it to Harry and Ron...yes.
It was an idiotic plan but maybe those idiotic Slytherins had rubbed off on her and it would probably be something a Slytherin would do. So if she told Harry and Ron and Ted that she had a crush on Snape, which she had, probably, they would do their damnest to make sure to see her how stupid that was and how wrong. And if they had enough good arguments, and could somehow sway her with their good arguments, the crush would be gone. And an unnecessary crush it was. Stupid and without any basis in any real life experience. Apart from that almost hug with the stupid apparition. Apart from the way he looked at her. Apart from the fact that when he spoke to her, it wasn't in derisive tones. Apart from his emails that she had printed out and kept in a little box by her bed. Apart from the way he trusted her to find a counter-curse. Apart from his lovely sarcastic comments. Apart from the fact that...no. Her crush was irrational and she knew it and that was exactly while the idiotic plan was brilliant in itself.
If she told Harry and Ron, they would name all the arguments why it was irrational and stupid and unrealistic and only based on a perfected image of him and by that, she would be pulled out of the irrationality because...well, because she could eventually see the light.
Hermione almost ran up the stairs and dropped her heavy book bag on the lowest step before she changed into more comfortable trousers and a soft, warm shirt. It had grown cold outside and Kreacher was obviously not quite prepared for winter. Neither was she but it didn't matter. She took a deep breath, pulled her hair, even more windswept than before, into a ponytail and ran down the stairs again, knowing that by that time, her boys (her three boys — what a lovely thought) were in the kitchen, eating.
The trouble was, how to begin. Would she simpler and squeal like someone like Lavender Brown would? Or state it calmly and most sensibly as she, herself, would do? She probably had to find a way between. They would think her unhinged would she act like Lavender Brown and they wouldn't take her seriously if she was completely herself. Maybe a Luna-Lovegood-like dreamy look. But not too much.
Taking a deep breath, still trying to convince herself of that stupid plan (and a part of her shouting to let it go because that crush could be something wonderful and something to dream about), she entered the kitchen. Yes. The usual picture. Ron eating like a pig, Harry keeping an eye on Ted's eating habits (and that Ted could not see Ron too clearly) while taking a bit once in a while himself. Kreacher bustling around the table.
She smiled. This was the life she liked. It had nothing to do with Snape and with Draco. Those boys, she loved, and those boys she loved would get her right on track again. End of story.
"Hi," she said, testing her Luna-dreamy-voice.
"Hey," replied Ron with his mouth full. "Come sit down, we still have some fishfinger butties."
"Grand choice of food," she muttered.
"Teddy loves them," grinned Harry, "How was that plus and minus stuff?"
"Oh, we actually learned how to multiply and divide today," she smirked and grabbed herself a fishfinger butty, grease oozing out of it.
"That's great then," laughed Harry. "Good to know you're broadening your...knowledge."
"Yep, isn't it?" she said wistfully.
"You alright, Hermione?" asked Ron, and the poor bloke did exactly as she had predicted. He was still so worried about her, maybe guilty from the fact that he dumped her, that he made sure to watch her, closely. And her face was probably the right mask of...whatever it was that a person with an unhappy crush was supposed to look like.
"I don't know," she sighed.
"What's wrong?" asked Harry immediately.
"I think I have a problem," she sighed, knowing her plan, idiotic though it may be, was on it's way. Like an avalanche.
.
"Severus? Are you in there?" asked Eleanor, standing in the backdoor and while he was in full view of her, she thought it was maybe better that she gave him a bit of warning. He was leaning over a book, his shoulders hunched and his hair so long that it almost fell into his eyes.
"Yes, come in," he said gruffly, his skin paler than usual but his eyes alert.
"Draco just returned with Aideen," she said gently. "And despite my very obvious wishes, they're now, oh, what's the word, snogging, in the living room." She rolled her eyes and pointed at the chair next to his. "May I?"
He nodded briefly and shut the book, a few sheets of paper stuck in the pages.
"Anything special?" she asked, groaning as the weight was lifted off her feet. She really shouldn't be climbing walls at her age again.
"The..."
"Counter-Curse. Draco mentioned it. I just didn't think you'd still be at it," she smiled. "So you do want it back? The magic I mean."
He shrugged and that in itself was so rare a thing that she was taken aback by the hopelessness it implied.
"Severus, talk to me."
"This book won't help and the all the other books won't help and sometimes there just aren't any solutions," he said and almost sounded as if he didn't care. But he couldn't fool her.
"So you have decided that you want to be magic again, or magical, or how do you say it, and despite your best efforts but think that there is a way and with this Ministry thing..."
"The Ministry has nothing to do with it. Granger said that they would allow me a wand back," he interrupted.
"Well, that's one thing out of the way, but as I was saying, despite your best efforts..."
"Yes, yes," he almost shouted. "Yes, I was hoping for it. But there is nothing. I know it."
"I've never known you to give up," she said softly, her hand stroking his hair slowly and he let it happen. He just let her stroke her hair and that made her smile. "And now you have one book in front of you and you think it's hopeless? I remember a man who carried home two huge pots of paint from ASDA and he was so determined that he made it without stopping. Or a man who painted his entire house within two days. A man who..."
"Yes, you made your point," he spat.
"And yet, you give up here. Or want to give up?"
He sagged. Literally. Not quite against her but so close to her that she could easily pull him to her side and wrap him in her arms. "Severus, listen to me. If you want to find a way, I'm sure you will. Those two you have by your side to help you, Draco and Miss Granger, they want to find a solution for this. They do. And..."
"Do you know how many ways there are to chant? Do you?"
"No, Severus. I'm just Eleanor Callaghan and I'm a Muggle and apart from church, I don't hear chants. But I know you and I know Draco and I know Miss Granger a little. And if you don't give up, you will find it. But you want to give up."
He shook his head against her chest. "I don't."
"Then why this sudden case of hopelessness, eh?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "It seems so vast a field and I..."
"You realise how dangerous magic can be, I think."
"Yes, but not only for what could happen to me when they pick the wrong chant and just sing at me. In the best case, nothing happens and in the worst case, this book says, I'm dead. And what if it is successful? What if what Draco and Granger want to happen, happens? What if I do get my magic back, what if I'm a fully fledged wizard once more, and the Ministry allows me to use it and I realise what kind of power I possess again? What if I don't use it to do good things? What if I turn..."
"You won't turn dark again, Severus," she whispered and pulled him tighter to her. "You have seen the dark side and I know that you will fight for the good for the rest of your life. Didn't you rescue Aideen? Didn't you bring back Draco? Don't you fetch an old woman her tea and her shopping? I know what you're thinking, Severus and I know what this is about. This is not about not having any hope that this curse will not work on you. It's about what happens if it does. And I will tell you exactly what will happen. You will be able to do magic, and you will finally fix the rain gutters as I've told you to do repeatedly without having to go up there by yourself and I know you will be happier..."
"I cannot be happier," he exclaimed passionately.
"Yes, you can. You are happy now, or as happy as you allow yourself to be but there are still things missing. I know Draco is suspecting you and Granger have something. Go after that when you have your magic back...nah, nah, don't interrupt me this time," she held up a finger, "Or go after someone else who is not a lecturer and who is more your type or if you like, go after that strange woman you've been with again. But love, Severus. Love. And I don't mean love an old woman. Love and do your magic. Brew your potions and wave your wand about. Be complete Severus. And you cannot be complete without your magic. Or, without love."
"I've..."
"No, Severus, don't find excuses. We've all had loves in the past that went horribly wrong. Take a risk. My God, you have taken the biggest one of all. You started an entire new life here, but there was one part of you missing. Now get that part back and then continue your new life. Here. I won't let you go anywhere anyhow," she smiled and kissed his forehead. "And don't ever have that look on your face again, lad. Hopelessness doesn't suit you and sulking suits you even less."
