Written for Amber's Write all the ships challenge

A Friendly Encounter

She was intelligent, brave, and knew what she wanted. A prefect, could have been Head Girl. She was a Muggleborn.

All the similarities were uncanny. She stood up for what she believed in, had no qualms with anyone of any blood status – not really.

She was brave. Had he mentioned that?

It was a relatively warm June morning. The war had ended exactly a month ago, almost to the second, and there were still writings in the paper almost every day to remind them of what had happened.

Mostly it was about Harry Potter and co. The saviours of the world, apparently. If one didn't know what had really happened that fateful May second, one would think Harry single-handedly fought in that war by himself the way the papers carried on.

Severus couldn't help but look, once again, at the image of a bushy-haired girl – no, young woman now – and notice the similarities to someone he had once known. She'd been brave, too. She'd given her own life for her son, and seeing the other young woman there, he couldn't help but wonder – had she been in the same position – would she do the same thing?

Yes, he decided, folding the morning's edition of the Prophet up, and setting it aside. Yes, she probably would.

It had been a horrid month, he'd admit. Questions, accusations, and then more questions. That had been Severus' life. What side was he really on? Who was he loyal to? It seemed no one could work it out, and Severus was unwilling to commit to a side. What were sides, anyway? He'd only protected the boy because of her. There was no other reason for him to support anyone.

He glanced around the dimly lit room in Spinner's End and sighed. He hadn't seen a living soul in one whole month. Most days he liked it, but today he wished that someone – anyone – would come to see if he was okay.

"Professor? Professor, are you in there?" The very thought had barely left his mind when a knock sounded on his door. He sat up a little straighter, listening to the voice call out to him.

Speak of the devil….

"Miss Granger." He opened the door to see the uncomfortable-looking young woman standing on his doorstep. She gave him a half-hearted smile and then look past him, as if checking to make sure he was alone. Her gaze then returned to him, expectant.

"Hello, Professor," she said quietly. "How are you?"

Severus didn't respond; he was partly irritated, partly bemused that when he had wished for someone to find him, it had been her. She was bright, he'd give her that, but had grown increasingly irritating over the years. The problem was she knew she was smart, and she liked to show it.

"Is there a reason you're here, Miss Granger?" he asked in what he thought was his coolest, calmest voice.

She fumbled for the right words – an oddity in itself. "Oh… oh, yes, of course, they wouldn't have told you."

Severus only watched her curiously. "Told me what?"

Without responding, she began rummaging through a tiny beaded bag until she extracted a piece of parchment with the Ministry seal on it. Of course, he remembered, the papers had said she was working for them now.

She passed the sealed letter to him, and as he scanned the document he wanted nothing more than to shut the door on her face. Mentoring, it read. Companionship. Why?

With cold eyes, he looked back at her. "Tell the Ministry," he said coolly, "that as appreciated as their help is, I don't need it. Nor do I need you on my doorstep." He thrusted the Ministry document back her way. "Good day, Miss Granger."

She was still standing there, dumbfounded, when he returned to the armchair in the dark living room. She'd leave eventually, he reasoned, though… then again… it was Hermione Granger.

…

An order came the next day by owl, claiming that if he did not allow Miss Granger to see him he would be taken into Ministry custody; something, according to them, was far worse. So when she came knocking that afternoon he had no choice but to let her into his home.

She appeared as pleased to be there as he was to have her there, but neither said anything. This was her job – her first job – and she was determined to do it right.

"So… how are you, Professor?" she asked after a moment, taking in the little house with some disdain. "After… after everything that has happened?"

There was no doubt in Severus' mind that Mr Potter had told Miss Granger about the events leading up the Dark Lord's demise. He'd shared his memories with Potter because he'd expected to die, and he was certain that she knew of them.

It was another reason he hadn't stepped too far into the public eye in the past weeks. He didn't expect Potter to reveal his secret, but one couldn't be too sure.

"So, Miss Granger…." He sat down in the armchair he'd spent the past weeks in and looked at her expectantly. "How are you?"

She seemed thrown by the question, and for once, lost for words. Her mouth moved in a fish-like response, but no sound came out.

"I've seen your face plastered in the papers, of course," Severus continued, ignoring her lack of response. "Yours, with Weasley and Potter, too. Famous, now, aren't we?"

"Sir… Sir, we're here to talk about you," Hermione stammered, searching the room for a place to sit. When Severus offered her no solution, she settled for the coffee table.

"Well, if we're going to do this, Miss Granger, I suggest you stop calling me Professor," Severus instructed. "You're no longer my student."

Hermione bristled, but nodded. "Alright… Mr Snape."

"Severus."

"S-Severus." It seemed a struggle for her to get the word out. "How are you?" She extracted a quill and a notebook from inside her beaded bag, watching him expectantly. What did she think she was doing? Writing for the Prophet?

"I was under the impression anything that was said between us was confidential," he hissed.

"Oh, it is, Sir… I mean Severus. This is just for me." She returned expectant eyes upon him again, waiting. "I know it's been a struggle for you this past month… it's been a struggle for all of us."

Severus nodded. "Very well. Yes… I can't say it's been easy," he admitted. "After all, the media is no help."

She seemed to understand this, and jotted down a few notes. "Harry told me what happened… with… with everything."

Severus' only response was to look at her with cold eyes. "Mr Potter only told you what he knows," he said. "Or… what he saw."

Once again, she seemed to understand. "Should we discuss it?"

"Those are personal matters."

"Are you aware that to keep you from Azkaban, you must talk to me?" Hermione said, her voice high-pitched and flustered. "You must seek some form of counselling, and Harry thought it best if it wasn't a professional, considering the circumstances. He put a lot on the line for me to come and see you, Prof – Severus – and unless you want to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban Prison for consulting with Lord Voldemort, I suggest you tell me everything you know. What is discussed will be kept confidential, but in the end, it'll be I and the Minister who decides whether you are fit enough to be free of imprisonment."

Severus pursed his lips, glaring at her. "And you are qualified to make such decisions, are you?" he mocked.

"With permission from the Minister, I am," Hermione said ruefully. "Six one hour sessions is all we have been given, and –" she glanced toward the old grandfather clock that had belonged to his father, "–we've already wasted twenty minutes of our first."

Severus bristled, but relented. He noticed the desire in her expression to help. No doubt she felt obliged to Harry Potter to assist with his request to help. "I'll discuss my involvement with the Death Eaters and with the war," he said. "What I will not discuss – under any circumstances – is personal matters. Is that understood?"

She nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Albus instructed me to kill him that night, to stop young Mr Malfoy from doing it. He was dying, anyway, and did not want to subject Mr Malfoy to such a heartless act." From there, he delved into the story of how he protected Draco, and fooled the Dark Lord about where his loyalty lied. She scribbled notes, listening intently; and, as much as he loathed to admit it, he liked that he had somebody to listen to him.

And, he liked that it was Hermione Granger.

…

"Here again, Miss Granger?"

"Please, call me Hermione if you insist on me calling you Severus." It was their fourth meeting and she was there five minutes early. It had become a thing for her to arrive early on his doorstep, and Severus had grown to anticipate it.

She clutched the small notebook to her chest as he let her in, and without another word, the two of them took their usual seats in the living room for their talk.

"I think we should continue from where we left off," Hermione said once she was settled across from him. After their first – less than cheerful – meeting he'd bothered to find her, her own armchair. "You were talking of your time as headmaster of Hogwarts… you say it was a difficult year?"

Severus nodded. "Of course, the Carrows all but ran the school," he said. "I was… preoccupied with other things." Of what, he didn't say, and she didn't ask him. Over the weeks, they'd developed an understanding that he would talk when he was ready. She was there to listen to him and determine if he was fit enough to live in the real world (or, in other words, to make sure he was not involved with Dark magic anymore).

Their sessions often ran overtime, and it was usually hours before Hermione set her quill aside and claimed the rest of the story could wait for another day. Oddly, Severus was always disappointed when she did so; she normally stopped at a crucial point, or when he thought they could last another hour of tales.

Today, however, she didn't go a second over the scheduled hour. "I'll see you next week, Severus," she said, placing her quill and notebook inside her beaded bag. "There's something I have to do today." She answered the question before he had the chance to ask her.

The very next day he understood why she'd been in such a hurry to leave. Apparently, she was all but a Weasley by name these days. One of the many Weasley children – the one who worked for the Ministry, Percy – had just become engaged. That was what he read in the Prophet that morning, at least. They seemed it important enough to report that the former secretary to the Minister for Magic was now engaged to be married to a Muggle he'd met a year ago. A picture of his siblings and Harry Potter and Hermione Granger made second page.

Severus sighed. Of course she'd seen it as more important to attend to an engagement party of her second family than to listen to his story. Of course.

"Two more sessions, I see," he said when she appeared the same time next week. "And you're still there with your notebook and quill. My guess is you have not yet determined my readiness for the outside world." It wasn't a question, but a cool statement. It still bothered him that she'd chosen to attend a party over listening to him, when it shouldn't have. He couldn't quite pin point why it bothered him so.

She went red, but merely said, "I've been reporting back to the Ministry after every session. I cannot disclose any information until a formal decision has been made."

Severus grunted his response, but let her inside. She seemed flustered this time, busying herself with her notebook and quill among other things. She appeared agitated, as if something had occurred. Severus partly wondered what might have happened to cause such a frenzy, but he didn't ask. She was a talker, Miss Granger, even as an annoying know-it-all student.

"So, I believe that last week, when you so rudely stopped me, I was talking about our encounter in the Shrieking Shack, yes? Only mere minutes before I was about to tell you of my plan to give Mr Potter my memories – an act I terribly regret now."

She looked at him with contempt. "I'll remind you," she began, "that had you not given those memories to him, I would not be here to begin with. It was Harry who insisted someone come to talk to you instead of throwing you straight into an Azkaban cell."

Severus nodded, resisting the urge to sigh. He knew that, of course, and he knew that he was only alive because of Mr Potter, too. The boy was too good for his own good.

The session, this time, went for almost two hours. He spoke of the times he had almost given up – of the times he wished to throw the Carrows out of the school. Then he thought of what was at stake, and while there were no deaths in the school, he'd have to keep the pretence. He had to.

"You… you mean, that was you?" He'd just told her of how he'd led Harry to Godric Gryffindor's sword, and Hermione was staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. She seemed even more flustered than when she had arrived, and if she wore glasses, he was certain she would have pushed them all the way up her nose by now.

"What was me?" he asked innocently.

"The silver doe… the Patronus. Harry swore he saw one, but I never… I never believed him."

"How else did you suppose Mr Potter happened to find his way to the exact place it was hidden?" Severus asked her calmly. "He's not really that bright, Miss Granger."

She flushed, muttering something he couldn't hear. After a moment, she regathered herself and put quill to paper again. "So, after you led Harry to the sword…."

Severus inwardly sighed. There was only one more session after this. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or dreading that day to come.

…

Mr Severus Snape,

We are pleased to inform you that due to your six counselling sessions, your counsellor has deemed you fit to live your life as you wish. Due to the past, your movements will be monitored, and any misconduct will, in deed, result in a sentence in Azkaban Prison.

However, your life can return to normal if you wish.

Jerome Hitchcock

Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law

He probably should have been pleased that he wasn't going to prison, but the letter brought him no comfort. It had taken Miss Granger only three days after their final session to come to this conclusion. As she had told him, she would present all of her notes and personal assessment to the Minister, who would then make the final decision.

He missed her, though. His Wednesdays were left empty without her company. The wretched house on Spinner's End only occupied one body again, and it was lonely.

"Severus?"

He looked up at the door where a soft voice came from the other side. Setting the letter aside, he opened it, forcing himself not to smile.

"Miss Granger," he said mildly. "There's no need for you to be here anymore."

"Oh… I know. I was just… have you received your letter?"

"Just moments ago," he informed her. "I suppose I should be thanking you that I am not being dragged off to Azkaban?"

She blushed, but merely said, "I just gave my assessment. It was Minister Shacklebolt, really."

It was very unlike her to not take the credit for something this important.

"Anyway, I'm glad you received your letter. You're free to do as you please now… what will you do?"

To be honest, what he'd do hadn't really crossed Severus' mind. He wasn't sure, really. What was there to do for a former double agent?

She seemed to read his expression, because she shook her head. "Sorry, not my business," she said, before suddenly looking uncomfortable. "But I hope that whatever you choose, you, um, have a good life." She seemed so sincere that Severus had to fight against is inner desire to thank her for everything. That would be very uncharacteristic of him.

His only response was to say, "You, too, Miss Granger."

She smiled. "Please, call me Hermione," she insisted. Though, in Severus' opinion, that would imply they were friends.

"Good day."

He wasn't sure if he'd ever see her again, or if she wanted to, but those six weeks he had enjoyed very much. He now felt ready for the real world again; a world where there would be nobody to tell him what to do anymore. He'd never admit it, but those six weeks had been the best six weeks in a very long time.

To begin with, Miss Granger had reminded him of her; but now… now that wasn't the case.

If anything, she'd helped him to move on.

If you squint, you may see unrequited romance on Severus' part... but only if you squint. Anyway, I actually kinda had fun with this, and it wasn't as difficult to write as I thought it might be... but they may have been because I kinda failed at the romance that was meant to be obvious in this.

Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it, anyway! Your thoughts would be very much appreciated :)