Gatecrashing

   It was a hot afternoon, just like those ordinary ones in the last two summers. A father was sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper. Every now and then he would shake out his shirt for relief. The fan did a good work, but he had to turn it to a different direction so he could read without pages flying around his head. The mother stood in the kitchen, just having started to prepare early supper.

 

   “I’m in the shower, Mum!”, their daughter called from upstairs.

   “Just don’t take too long, dear. We’ll be having supper in some minutes!”, the woman replied, wiping a loose strand of her dark brown curls behind her ear.

   “Hopefully nothing too warm!”

   “Just some salad!”

   “Fine!”

 

   She closed the bathroom door behind, dropped her fresh clothes on a stool and undressed. The other clothes went directly into the basket. She had cleaned up her room for an hour now, leaving her covered in sweat.

   The clear water felt wonderful. It was like washing off every tiny bit of – she sighed, putting shampoo in her hair. The massage felt as relieving on her scalp. Trying not to drift off with her thoughts, she concentrated on washing alone. These days she was thinking too much anyway. Shaving had also never been more pleasant.

   Some minutes later, she got out of the shower, towelled herself. Then she put on the fresh clothes: underpants, light yellow shorts and a lilac strappy top. Her hair wrapped in a light blue towel, she went back too her light room. She picked her wand from her desk, removed the towel and threw her hair over, drying hot air flowing from the tip of the wand.

   Downstairs, the bell rang.

 

   “Darling, would you answer please?”, the woman asked.

   “Yes.”

 

   He put down the newspaper, stood up an went for the door. It was ringing again. Before answering at last, he straightened his shirt, took a deep breath and opened the door swiftly. A man in his size stood outside, being the only person in the street, the left hand on the doorframe, the other hooked to his pocket with the thumb. His distinctive face was rather pale and he was wearing a clean, long-sleeved white shirt and black trousers. The bushy shoulder-length hair was as piceous as his trousers and shoes. Framing his dark eyes, a hint of purposely blurred black eyeliner. His lips formed a faint smile.

 

   “Can I help you, Sir?”

   “Mr Granger?”

   “Yes?”, the stranger straightened from his lazy pose and offered him his hand.

   “Professor Severus Snape, former teacher and now Headmaster of Hogwarts.”, Mr Granger shook his hand, a little fascinated to have the Headmaster of his daughter’s school standing in front of their door, not really resembling the wizards he had met in Diagon Alley, but more looking like a young Muggle man, probably a musician meaning to apply for a different job.

   “Oh where are my manners – ”, he aspirated. “Please do come in, Professor.”

   “Thank you.”, they both stepped in, Severus closing the door behind, not without a security glance outside and an unseen tap on the door, the change however noticed by the girl upstairs, whose head instantly jolted up from and article her eyes had gotten caught on while still drying her hair, even before her father could –

   “Hermione – it’s for you! One of your teachers!”

 

   Startled, she threw her hair back, looking like a lion now. A little confused about what a teacher could want from her and what had caused the barely catchable humming and the feeling of being trapped under a glass bowl that had been turned upside down, she checked whether her hair was fully dry.

 

   “Coming, Dad!”, she replied, though not without a hint of panic.

   “So, what brings you here? Hermione said she won’t go back to school. Is that the reason?”

   “One of it. But you will hear soon enough, Sir.”

   “Uh well,”, Mr Granger lightly blushed at the compellation, but decided to not speak further in case he might sound impolite if asking to be addressed less formally.

 

   Barefoot, Hermione walked over the carpeted floor in the short corridor. When she reached the stairs, her heart sunk. Standing there for some seconds, she just stared at him. Then she scuttled down the first steps. Though something alarmed her again. In the middle of the staircase she stopped. Curling her lips, she raised her hand and pointed her wand at his chest.

 

   “Hermione!”, her father gasped.

   “It is all perfectly right.”, Severus smirked, waving him off. “I see, Remus had some influence on you.”, fighting with herself, she asked the question to make it easier for him not to reveal too troubling information – she hoped, but knew the moment she started speaking, it was probably the worst she could have chosen.

   “When we were in the library and you made a joke about You-Know-Who and death – what was my reply?”, he laughed.

   “Now that is a nasty question to ask. Or have you told them already?”, she bit her lower lip, but clutched her wand tight, her eyes narrowing with forced severity.

   “What was my reply?”, she hissed.

   “`Then throw me into your bed and stopper death already´. Yet, were I another Legilimens of my level, you could just as well have used that article upstairs to gag me, if you were quick enough to suffocate me before I’d kill you. You, are leaking like a fifty year old sock bound to a tap for preventing that one’s leaking.”

 

   Panting, she lowered her wand. A second later, she had hurtled over the last steps and flung her arms around his neck, squinting her eyes as tight as she embraced him. That jump made him stagger back halfway to the closed door. A happy smile on his lips, he laid his arms around her, holding her tight as well.

 

   “Do you always treat your teachers like this?”, Hermione’s father chuckled, causing her to let go.

   “You said I’d hear from you – I – I didn’t expect – ”

   “Why not?”

   “I don’t know.”, she sniggered, lowering her head and yelped. “Oh my god – what – ”

   “Oh that.”, his trousers were torn straight down from his knees. “I was lucky I didn’t fall over.”

   “What?”, Hermione moaned, looking back up.

   “Let me say, I was a little clumsy.”

   “Clumsy? You’re not – ”, she bent a little, examining his legs. “You’re bleeding!”

   “Really?”, he pulled an awkward grimace. “What a surprise.”

   “Come on.”

 

   She reached under his shoulder, supporting him into the living room where he sat down on the armchair her father had relaxed on earlier. Suddenly, out of nowhere, as though he had learned to Apparate, Crookshanks was there. He hopped onto his lap with ease, but after he had received a few greeting strokes through his bushy fur in return for the purring, he jumped back off on Severus’ softly whispered words.

 

   “Ye fergive me, bu’ I need ter move a bi’ fer some minutes.”

   “Oh my goodness!”, Mrs Granger had come in after the cat to see who their visitor was. “Who is this?”

   “One of Hermione’s teachers. Oh – and headmaster now, sorry.”

   “Yes.”, said both.

   “Severus Snape.”, he smiled softly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Granger.”

   “Holy cricket!”, Hermione moaned sitting on the floor next to Crookshanks, having lifted the torn fabric up to his knees which were bleeding as well. “That looks horrible! What by all means happened?”

   “As I said, I was clumsy.”

   “That does really look bad.”, Mrs Granger said. “I will get the first-aid kit.”

   “Mum!”, Hermione’s head rushed around. “He’s Potions Master! There’s no need for that rubbish!”

   “Rubbish?”, she aspirated.

   “Rubbish.”, Severus said, having already opened the upper buttons of his shirt and pulled out the notorious pouch. “You heard your daughter. Now – you too, Hermione. Get up, honestly.”

   “Sorry.”, she blushed and sat herself on the sofa to the right, failing at making Crookshanks follow her; her parents stared at the black wand Severus had pulled from his sleeve.

   “Interesting choice of shampoo, if I may say.”, he enlarged the pouch and summoned a tiny bottle filled with an almost clear liquid and a big glass containing a number of plants; Hermione recognised them to be Dittany.

   “Oh shut up.”, with a self-satisfied smile he placed the glass on the table circled by the armchairs, the sofa, the television and the fan that stopped blowing right then, which didn’t fail to catch the attention of Hermione and her mother.

   “What is that?”, Mr Granger asked and sat down to Hermione’s right, joined by his wife, who frowned at the fan.

   “Nothing to be found in books. Horace would forget what I did if he saw that and Poppy would not stop kissing me.”, the two looked a bit confused, but Hermione explained.

   “In short, either something extremely difficult and hard to brew or – your own creation?”

   “Both.”, Severus said, dripping the liquid over the cuts, making them heal instantly to great surprise of Hermione’s parents and even a little herself; yet the scars from Fluffy’s warning remained. “It is almost as powerful as phoenix tears. The only lack, it can not heal poisoned or cursed wounds and – “, he sighed, “You know which spell, Hermione. It took me quite a time to fix the details and still it doesn’t heal my own madness.”

   “Interesting that you invent spells like that without finding a cure before you write them into a book which you are clever enough to forget until you hand the book over to your nosy son.”, she murmured. “Who was clever enough to attack someone with it.”

   “Not resentful, of course,”, he raised an eyebrow, put the bottle back, shrunk the pouch and let it slip under his shirt again.

   “No. I can’t say that often enough. You could have killed yourself, if – sure. You did invent a spell that heals those wounds.”

   “Exactly. Unfortunately it only works on other people but not if you want to heal yourself. And interesting that you say I could have – ”

   “Well, I can count two and two together, can’t I?”

   “Naturally. I am still grateful for the five hundred Galleons.”

   “Two hundred and fifty.”

   “Pardon?”

   “Well, actually it was half my achievement, not?”

   “No, you just gave it a spark. And the money’s gone.”

   “Gone?”, Hermione’s brows narrowed. “How can you spend five hundred Galleons in only a few months?”

   “Months? Minutes, rather. Because, sometimes I am honest enough to not confund every single salesman who’s got something I need,”

   “Five hundred, Severus,”

   “Do you really expect me to disclose my accountancy to you? I had some serious, necessary expenses and the money came in the nick – ”

   “But – ”

   “You know exactly that I am not the kind of person who tosses their money out of the window,”, he hissed, the annoyance becoming anger. “If I say I was glad to having received that money, then I badly needed it so as to not having to confund people. No matter what numbers you have in mind, my salary was ever just enough to pay the rent, overheads etcetera – ”

   “What?”, Hermione murmured. “For – excuse me? You pay – for – a flat you use – like what? Two months a year?”, she could hardly believe that he was actually doing that. “I’d rather confund that landlord and buy everything else normally,”

   “I thought you wouldn’t – ”

   “What? Understand? Well, surprise, that’s ridiculous.”

   “I have my reasons.”, Severus said tersely.

   “Of course you have. You’d rather prey upon a hundred wizards before you’d confund one Muggle landlord. Charming.”

   “We are neither related, nor married. I don’t have to answer to you.”, his tone was so grim, she suddenly feared that, despite her own anger, she might actually drive him to break up with her if she didn’t stop.

   “Did it hurt a lot when Harry hit him?”

   “You don’t want to know.”, Severus sighed, at last mending the trousers with a flick of his wand, making them cover his legs like they had never been damaged.

   “So what did you do with your legs?”

   “You won’t drop it, won’t you?”, he stuck the wand back up his left sleeve.

   “No.”

   “I misjudged the distance.”

   “Which distance?”

   “I – ”, he groaned upon her demanding look and rolled his eyes. “All right – I was a little nervous and accidentally flew too deep before I landed and – ”, the last words came in a grumble, “Hit your garden door. Satisfied?”

   “You – no.”, Hermione couldn’t help laughing.

   “There she goes,”, he mumbled angrily again, crossing his arms and legs and looked away into the lands of annoyance that seemed to lie somewhere not too far beyond the fan.

   “Sorry – I – no.”, she shook her head, squinting with a big grin. “Sorry.”, he curled his lips. “Why were you – ”, she calmed down, chuckling. “Nervous?”

   “And then you come, asking such a question for the check.”, he continued mumbling, though his attention was drawn by Crookshanks who had hopped onto his lap again and rolled in as much as it was possible on the crossed legs.

   “Sorry, Severus. I didn’t – I couldn’t think of anything else.”

   “Great. That is exactly where I wanted to have you.”, he snorted. “Making you unable to think of anything else when you see me.”

   “No – I – Severus!”, she laughed again, but he couldn’t avoid a smirk either.

   “Odd enough that you are verbally attacking him about his private issues, but how come you address him by his first name?”, her father asked.

   “Long story.”, Hermione giggled. “Um – you forgot the Dittany.”

   “That is for you. Have fun squeezing.”, he sighed, looking back at her.

   “Oh. Thank you.”

   “And please try not to forget to remind me that there are more things I would like to give to you.”

   “So – what is it that you are here for, Mr Snape?”, Mrs Granger asked.

   “Yes. It can’t only be that you – I’d better not say a thing.”, Hermione giggled on.

   “Interesting, that you are so easily entertained.”, she felt heat rising in her face and knew she would soon be bright red.

   “Sorry. You just managed to make me forget – what was that with the mass breakout? I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was probably the tiniest article I’ve ever read in the Prophet.”

   “Well, at least they mentioned it. Scrimgeour is becoming Fudge-ised. The article you read was a leak. Someone must have smuggled it in. The Ministry keeps quiet. They don’t want panic.”

   “Oh yes. That sounds familiar.”, Hermione huffed. “Luna said that Scrimgeour seems anxious.”

   “That man is getting cold feet. He once was one of the best Aurors next to Alastor, but since the Dark Lord returned again, he is at a constant loss of confidence. Even his cousin has got more guts. However, he is still a far better leader than Fudge. You know what he had been like when I gave him the list.”, Hermione nodded. “You should have seen his eyes. `Is that really happening? Do you actually think that the Ministry will fall? Help, Mummy, help!´ Incredible. He has seen a few too many fights.”, Severus murmured.

   “But he followed your advice, didn’t he?”

   “Of course. In the last meeting of the Order before – the tower incident, Kingsley had to record more than half of the Muggle-Born employees having left the country.”

   “That’s great. What – what about the students? I mean, you will be – ”

   “I believed, you paid attention to what I had told him there? The matter had been settled long before Albus’ death. They all have gotten their letters by now and were escorted by the same trustworthy people as usual, in safe intervals. The number is rather low this year anyway. That made things easier to conceal. Unless any of them boasts about being Muggle-Born, the plan will work flawless. The Carrows are the biggest wimps at Legilimency. They would not even be able to tell a fake smile if they shouted the spell at someone, digging their wand into that person’s temple.”

   “Carrows?”, Hermione moaned.

   “It is his wish that I become Headmaster and that they will be my Deputies then.”

   “No!”, it had just slipped her, the malicious faces of the twins passing her memory, right behind Bellatrix Lestrange and the look she received from him was nothing short of a death threat. “Sorry.”

   “What he does not know, is that there is much more complexity to becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts than being elected. It has to be the current Headmaster to officially appoint his successor and that one’s job to find themselves a Deputy, whether it be in a direct conversation or a written letter. There is a strict use of words, different in the cases. If the Headmaster or Headmistress dies before naming their successor, the Deputy follows automatically. It is then in their hands to take the same steps and believe me, I will tell neither Alecto nor Amycus and especially not him. Minerva of course, will quite likely get to the point when she notices that her authority has faded. But I cannot risk her life. She is too valuable for the school and each student.”

   “But the governors – ”

   “Can make decisions about whom they would like to see in those positions, yet if the school itself does not agree, they will have to, quite frankly, deal with it.”

   “Wait – there was this – feeling – like an earthquake and a strange sound in my ears when I hurried down to Slughorn’s office. Was that when – ”, she had nearly forgotten it.

   “Yes. I noticed it as well, in the moment I read the words. This is also how the knowledge of the phrase is passed on. The phrase acknowledging that the Deputy is up for choice, is added afterwards.”

   “But – if the Headmaster dies first and the Deputy as well – how – ”, she could guess the answer.

   “Then it will be the castle walls speaking to a worthy next Headmaster or Headmistress – and to them alone. And yes, if the governors don’t believe it,”, he read her expression right, “Let me say, you don’t want to know what happened when they tried to install someone other than Albus after Dippet, when Hogwarts simply determined on him. And no, you haven’t overlooked that part in your most beloved history book. It was so dramatic, the Obliviators had to be called, so the students; and staff; wouldn’t suffer a trauma. I wouldn’t have believed it, if Albus hadn’t shown me his memory of it.”

   “Did it end in a funeral, or what?”, Hermione chuckled, but immediately regretted it, having to face a quite desperate stare when he clearly considered whether to reveal the information to her parents.

   “There was – ”, he shortly blinked, then spoke insanely fast, “Nothing really left you could bury unless you carefully scraped it off the walls, ceiling and people in the Great Hall. Mind that it was during the Start-of-Term-Feast and a haunting mix of voices resounded in the hall, only saying that she’s not the one.”

   “She?”, Hermione gasped after a few seconds.

   “Is that really relevant when who everyone thought would be leading the school, exploded in all directions upon solely meaning to start their speech?”, now it was her to stare and blink at him.

   “Hogwarts did that.”

   “Ah – I would say, that was Salazar Slytherin’s contribution to the election system.”, Severus smirked dolefully, but definite.

   “Thought so. Still – ”, she gave her parents a short glance, not only to check whether either would need a bucket, “Why are you here?”, he said nothing but began to stroke Crookshanks with his right hand, the other settling down on the side rest. “Look – staring into my eyes helps me, but not them.”, there was no change in his now emotionless gaze. “Severus?”

   “Precaution.”

   “Pre-?”, she started laughing again, glad she could.

   “What is so funny about it?”, her mother asked, confused about Severus closing his eyes with a big grin as well, especially after such a revelation. “What is so funny?”, she repeated, but he just wiped his free hand over his mouth, Hermione watching him with a smirk.

   “Honestly now. Can’t you tell them or is it only – because – you know – ”, he bit his lip, looking at the glass of Dittany.

   “I cannot let you leave with Harry in your current state.”

   “Don’t worry, I will dress properly before I go.”

   “Hermione, I swear!”, he buried his face in his left hand. “You do though recall that you yourself stated that I am just a man. That image is forever burnt in my mind, so please! Please try not to reawaken it too often.”

   “Could you extract your memory of it so I can see what I looked like?”

   “No.”, he shook his head, his face still covered.

   “Oh I get it. You packed your entire office but forgot that Dumbledore’s Pensieve might be useful as well.”

   “What?”, he raised his head, his hand loosely held in front of his mouth.

   “Rather like you, I did point my wand out of the window and summon books about Horcruxes,”, she also crossed her arms and legs, giving him a very conceited look, her wand still in her right hand. “And as I didn’t hear any glass smash, Dumbledore must have left a window open. So I practically didn’t even steal them.”

   “Are you really so fond of Bullock’s books?”, Severus chuckled. “If I knew, I would have requested his entire work.”

   “You knew these books were in there?”

   “Hermione,”

   “Sure. You aren’t stupid.”

   “Not at all.”

   “But stupid enough to crash into our garden door.”, she added subdued.

   “Now will you – ?”, she let out a squeal when he gave the grey cushion on the second armchair a flick of his hand, making it speed directly at her face and her parents jump against the sofa’s backrest.

   “Hey!”, she had caught the cushion, holding it in front of her chest then.

   “Not resentful, no.”, Severus snorted.

   “No.”, Hermione wrapped her arms around the soft grey thing, pouting. “I guess, you will still not tell?”

   “This information is meant for you alone.”

   “Okay. Are you hungry? We were about to have supper. Mum, Dad? I hope it’s okay – ”

   “Oh I made far enough.”, her mother replied. “Of course you are welcome to eat with us, Sir.”

   “Thank you for the invitation.”, he gave her a nod. “And you may call me Severus as well.”

   “Miranda.”

   “And I am Daniel.”, he briefly lifted his hand.

   “My pleasure.”

   “I’m Hermione.”, she grinned, her lips pressed together.

   “My presence really is no benefit for your sanity.”, Severus moaned frowning.

   “As long as you don’t let the trombones play – ”, Hermione giggled.

   “You do remember every word you ever heard me saying, don’t you?”

   “Only the intriguing ones.”

   “Then I suppose, concerning your assessment of verbal importance, I shall never drop a single word in your attendance ever again.”

   “Well, then you might just find that my hand slips right over your evening pumpkin juice, making you spill your innermost secrets for everyone present.”

   “That, is scary.”

   “Harry says that too, sometimes.”

   “And I do not see the necessity of wasting an illegal potion for obtaining something you can achieve with the simplicity of being yourself.”, she could have sworn that his eyes gazed particularly at her freshly washed, curled brown lion-mane; her parents were obviously confused by his statement.

   “I guess, we should have supper, before the situation escalates?”, Hermione moaned with a tiny last smirk.

   “Please, yes.”, he murmured. “But I don’t need much. A salad would be enough for me.”

   “No worries.”, Mrs Granger, appeased him, though not fully able to drop her confused expression. “I only made us a salad, in fact. It’s too hot for anything else these days.”, and her eyes zoomed back at the fan that sprang to life, seemingly on its own.

 

   They rose almost simultaneously, Hermione replacing the cushion with the glass of dried Dittany plants and Severus easily lifted the big cat on his arms, though sat him down on the kitchen floor once they had entered. The kitchen was not big, but as light as the rest of the house. There was a white rectangular table in the middle, six white chairs with grey cushions stood around. To their left in the room, the fridge melted with the white furniture.

   Mrs Granger added another glass bowl, steel fork and white napkin to the table. Thanking her, he sat down, Hermione to his right, both facing the window. Mr Granger took the seat at the end of the table right next to Hermione, his wife sat herself opposite to their daughter and Crookshanks hopped onto the cupboards to study the whole from the top of the fridge.

 

   “Enjoy your meal, everyone.”, they thanked her and started taking from the big bowl in the middle, one after another. “Oh – I forgot – would you like something to drink, Severus?”

   “No, thank you.”, he gave her a gentle and grateful smile.

   “Or you two?”

   “Mum.”

   “Alright.”

   “So – ”, Hermione addressed Severus, “Remus wrote in an encrypted letter that it’ll happen next Saturday – ”

   “Yes. I caught that information as well, unfortunately. This means a lot more trouble.”

   “Why?”

   “Because I take another meeting in account. He surely will want to go everything through again, the sooner, the better – for him of course. My biggest hope is that he holds the meeting too late. Then Harry would be gone. But in case he – ”

   “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”, Hermione aspirated, the fork with a leaf and a tomato slice stopping shortly before her open mouth.

   “Well, it is better than explaining myself afterwards. He counts on me and that I get first-hand information.”

   “But he must understand that you cannot get it anymore after Dumbledore’s death.”, she ate on.

   “I am afraid, I have proven my skills too many times. As you see, I did indeed catch the information without anyone noticing it and he knows I can do such. So yes, if he should hold a meeting, I will have to tell him. It will not be easy to defend you all, but better than nothing. After all the Order would have never thought of using Polyjuice Potion if I hadn’t told them.”

   “What? You – you confunded Mundungus? Of course. I knew that couldn’t have been his idea. It’s much too clever for that dork to come up with,”

   “Well, he was the easiest to catch, usually hanging around in Knockturn Alley. And even easier to persuade.”

   “What is this all about?”, Mr Granger asked. “Harry Potter?”

   “Yes.”, Severus and Hermione said together.

   “But I think we should leave that topic now.”, Hermione meant.

   “Alright.”, her mother said. “Now tell us something about you, Severus. You have been her Potions teacher, she said that.”

   “And Defence Against the Dark Arts.”, added Hermione. “This – um – last year.”

   “And now you have been made Headmaster?”

   “Yes.”

   “But didn’t you always say that – what was her name?”

   “McGonagall.”, Hermione said. “Yes. She would have been next in the row if it hadn’t been for the current circumstances.”

   “So,”, Mr Granger joined the conversation, “Dumbledore – is he really – dead?”

   “Yes.”, Severus sighed.

   “He was very old, wasn’t he?”

   “Hundred and fifteen.”

   “My goodness! That is really an age to die at.”, Mrs Granger chuckled. “What about you? How old are you?”

   “Thirty-seven.”, it almost shocked Hermione that he told her mother his age so quickly but that she nearly had had to worm it out of his nose.

   “Any children? Wait – a son, right?”, she shortly looked at her daughter, remembering that quickly slipped bit of information

   “Yes.”, he smiled sadly.

   “How old is he?”

   “I just remembered – ”, Hermione sang in, “Thank you for the chocolate!”

   “You are welcome.”, Severus sighed again, notably relieved about her interruption. “Use it well.”

   “Of course I won’t eat it all in one go. It will just find use if we should meet with Dementors.”

   “That is exactly what I meant it for.”, the sarcasm was hard to miss. “Miranda, this salad is really good.”

   “It’s just salad. It’s nothing.”, she smiled, visibly charmed. “But thank you. I don’t want to sound impolite, still I wonder, since you refuse to tell us your reasons, how long will you be staying here?”

   “Yes – how long?”, Hermione repeated eagerly.

   “As long you are comfortable with my presence.”

   “Oh that – ”

   “Of course we are!”, burst Hermione. “Stay as long as you like to!”, a few looks were exchanged and they all had a good laugh.

   “Now Hermione – ”, her father calmed down. “You must really like him. Of course you may stay, if our daughter wants you to. Though we don’t have a guest room and Miranda and I will only be home for breakfast and return at supper time – ”

   “That does not matter. It is not my intention to disarticulate your house and I can cook as well, so Hermione won’t starve at all; and thank you. I really did not expect to be welcomed so openly. After all I was not invited. Regarding the room, I will be fine with the sofa.”

   “Balderdash.”, Hermione snorted but was silenced with a quick glance of his.

   “Do you want to have him sharing your room or what, dear?”, her mother chuckled, making Hermione blush heavily. “Unless he can conjure a bed that fits in there, I don’t see a way.”

   “There is always a way.”, Hermione whispered to her salad.

   “Shu’ up or tell ’em tha truth.”, Severus mumbled through his closed teeth.

   “Why don’t you?”, she did the same.

   “Ye are ’eir daughter,”

   “And you are – you know what.”

   “What is this that you are discussing there?”

   “Nothing, Mum.”, Hermione curled her lips and ate on.

   “Fine. But I can’t assure you that the sofa will be comfortable.”

   “As a child, I used to sleep on roofs in summer. I think, the sofa will be comfortable enough for me.”

   “You also slept up there?”, Hermione startled.

   “Yes. Many nights.”, this time, his smile was an amused one.

   “Why?”, Mrs Granger asked.

   “I liked it.”, he said casually. “The stars above – the soft breeze – I was free.”

   “Oh confess, you badly wanted that tower office.”, smirked Hermione.

   “Interesting that you suddenly can make jokes about it. While he was still alive, you cried each time the topic fell.”

   “I suppose, that’s that wicked happy, happy life.”, she shrugged, swallowing not only her salad. “I think, your Patronus and the funeral did the rest. I mean – I didn’t know him at all, did I?”, her expression changed rapidly. “Even Harry cried.”

   “He wouldn’t be his parents’ son if the death of someone so significant for him didn’t touch him.”

   “On the train he told us that he really had to avoid laughing during the speech. He said that suddenly memories were flooding him – like our first evening in Hogwarts – or their conversation in the Hospital Wing at the end of that year – or, well, he named various things that gave him the urge to laugh, thinking he’d gone mad. And then, he said, he suddenly started crying – and – ”, Hermione curled her lips once more, her eyes getting glossy, “Couldn’t stop – and – ”, the girl avoided any eye contact, feeling Severus’ right hand taking her left which laid on the table. “Oh damn it.”, she moaned. “Let me make jokes about it, okay?”

   “We were discussing Horcruxes every now and then, as you might know. Once he repeated that it was really essential that it was me to do it so the Dark Lord would have full trust.”, trembling, she looked up to him. “Because then we might have something in common at last.”, Hermione dropped her head with a sympathetic smile at his wink.

   “A murder that would really rip your soul apart.”, she muttered subdued and closed her fingers around his.

   “Actually he said, ``the pleasure of dispatching a four-eyes at Hogwarts with something green´´. Hermione. He was prepared.”, Severus smiled softly.

   “I know.”, she sighed. “Just – try to survive as long as possible, yes?”, their eyes met.

 

   Severus only held her hand a little tighter, Hermione returned his gesture. Twice stroking the back of her hand with his thumb he let go then, wanting to continue eating, but noticed that he was actually done already. With interest, he looked into the big bowl, finding it to be as empty.

 

   “It seems, we reached the bottom.”, he chuckled ironically.

   “Oh.”, Hermione’s parents noticed too now, that their own bowls contained nothing but vinegar; only Hermione herself had a bit left.

   “Here.”, she pushed the bowl over to him.

   “Don’t – it is yours.”

   “No. It’s alright. I’ve had enough.”

 

   Giving her a concerned look, he ate up her rest with a sigh. Right when he was done, she got up and cleaned the table, watched with more interest. After that, not dropping a single word, she left the kitchen for her room.

 

   “Hermione – ”, her mother called after, but in vain.

   “I’ll do that.”, Severus calmed her and followed the girl upstairs.

 

   She had closed her room behind. Hesitating for a moment, he knocked four times. There was no answer. Carefully, he pushed down the handle and peered inside. Twilight bathed the white and lilac room in a dim light. There were some white shelves filled with books of all sorts, a white desk under the window, lilac curtains. A notice board with photos, postcards and news articles on the wall. Some drawings of flowers. A light blue armchair. At the door’s right, she laid on the bed, turned to the window, huddled up. Very slow, he sat down at her back and placed his left hand on her shoulder.

   Hermione shuddered by the touch of his warm fingers. They wandered up to her hair, stroked her head gently. Sobbing quiet, she shut her eyes. With a glance at the still half opened door, he found her mother standing outside, her fist short before the wood. Seeing that he had noticed her, she lowered her hand, staring from one to the other, a mix of confusion and sadness on her face.

   Severus pulled his wand, swung it a little and a soft shimmer of silvery white and blue came from its tip, transforming into an otter. Amazed, Mrs Granger watched the animal of light swim through the air. Hermione opened her eyes, following the shine. The otter settled down on the bed in front of her, rolled onto its back. A quiet chuckle escaped her when the Patronus rolled on its feet again, moved closer and nuzzled her. When she raised her hand, wanting to touch it, a smile drifted onto Severus’ lips. He took his hand off her hair and caught hers as it was about to fall through the light.

   She slightly sat up, her head turning after the otter which swam through the room once more, her fingers embraced by Severus’. The otter dove around them, over Hermione’s right shoulder and sat down on it. When she moved her eyes from it to Severus, the light vanished. But there was no sadness in those eyes anymore. The Patronus had made it all disappear. He had made it all disappear.

   Hermione picked up her own wand from her pillow and made his hair move behind his left ear. Another gentle flick and a dark purple flower appeared at it. He cautiously took it. The flower resting on his right palm now, was a lily. Severus threw it up, waved his wand a little more and it became a lilac and white chrysanthemum, its petals unfolding as it sank to the bed. Hermione took it with her wand-hand as well, inhaling its scent. She sighed when it collapsed to hundreds of soft white sparks, trickling through her fingers into nowhere.

 

   “I won’t say don’t cry when I myself am incapable of restraint every once in a while. It would be foolish of me to ask something from you, neither I can do. But don’t pity the dead. Pity the living as they are to cope with the holes in their lives. Pity those who are not willing to cope with these holes and transform it into anger which they wreak on the innocent. And thank the dead for having been granted to walk with them. If you can, do it before they are gone.”

   “I think, this room might be big enough for another person.”, Miranda said. “Hermione never had a visitor. None of her friends had come to see us. It has always been her to go visit – those Weasleys only.”, the woman sighed. “From what I’ve seen, I can gladly say that you are a very special man and just the company my daughter would need this summer. Stay as long as you like to.”

   “Thank you, Miranda.”, he gave her a smile of pure gratitude.

   “For how long have you been together?”, Hermione’s head rushed up to her.

   “Mum! How come you think – ”

   “Since Christmas.”, Severus said softly and her mother nodded. “Hermione.”, she looked back at his warm smile. “She is your mother. If she didn’t know, she wouldn’t be.”

   “Is everything alright up here?”, Mr Granger had entered the scene, looking over his wife’s shoulder.

   “Yes, Daniel.”, she said. “We should leave them alone.”

   “But – Hermione – is really everything alright?”

   “Yes, Dad.”, she smirked, but at Severus.

 

   He waited until they had shut the door and their footsteps were out of earshot. Then he leaned closer, finally able to give her the hello kiss both had waited on for more than an hour. Their left hands still holding and their wands in their right, they drowned in the touch as if they hadn’t kissed in ages.

   Downstairs, Mrs Granger had started to wash the dishes.

 

   “What do you think about that all, darling?”, her husband had joined her for drying up. “Hermione’s always spoken highly of teachers like they were some sort of gods and then we get to meet the first one and it turns out they’re like best friends?”

   “What should I think about it, Daniel? He is a nice, polite and obviously talented man.”

   “Yes. He is very cultivated.”

   “And quite handsome as well.”

   “Handsome?”, Mr Granger chuckled. “Yes. I suppose, he is.”, he pondered.

   “They would make a wonderful couple.”

   “What? Miranda!”, he laughed.

   “I’m just saying.”

   “Oh come on. You’ve known him for an hour! He’s her teacher! And twenty years older!”

   “Nineteen years.”

   “Er – ”

   “Yes, I do have a memory.”, she snapped.

   “What’s wrong with you?”

   “Nothing’s wrong with me,”, his wife sang. “I know he could be her father already, but I only wish our daughter to be happy. She is visibly happy when being with him.”

   “Apart from those moments when she was close to burst into tears, yes.”

   “That is due to the current situation.”

   “Miranda – you don’t want to pair them off, do you?”, he eyed her with suspicion.

   “Of course not. But what if they would be a couple? Just – imagine. What would be if our Hermione has grown up at last and has found herself a boyfriend who can give her what she needs?”

   “Boyfriend.”, her husband huffed. “He is nineteen years – ”

   “Stop picking at the age! This is just an example!”

   “Then what do you want? That I say they’d make the best couple ever? What would you think if our daughter was dating a man who’s so much older than her?”

   “I would be okay with it as long as he takes care of her.”, blinking heavily, he stared at his wife.

   “She’s underage!”

   “No, she’s not.”

   “I beg your pardon?”

   “I said, she’s not. Yes, in our world she would be. But if you have failed to notice, she’s a witch. Remember what Madam Goodfowl said?”

   “Goodfowl? The one who told us – ”

   “That ``Under the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery, she is merely allowed to perform magic out of school that falls under educational exceptions. Furthermore, this permission is limited to her home, and presence of people aware of magic. Yet by the day she turns seventeen, the Ministry can no longer sue her for doing magic, unless it would violate the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy, or break any other law.´´ Once seventeen, she was considered of age. So, whether we approve of it or not, Hermione is, since almost a year, free to date whomever she wants without having to ask for our permission.”

 

 

~~#~~