Chapter 5

To Happy Endings

-oOo-

"Oh, I've seen worse. Not since the end of the war, mind," Hermione overheard Aberforth confiding to one of the Hogsmeade shopkeepers who'd nipped in for a quick drink after dinner. Apparently, Mr Gorman hadn't expected to find his usually quiet local pub rippling with laughter and good cheer.

Hermione saw him throw a quick glance around the pub, and quietly sneak back out into the cold, wet night again. She didn't blame him.

They'd left Hopkins in charge back at the castle. Apart from him, every human member of staff was here – even Filch and Hagrid. The latter had made a triumphant entrance, enthusiastically pumping Minerva's hand and flinging his arm around Sybill's bony shoulders. Now he was shouting something into her ear. Anyone who entered the room walked into a wall of sound; everyone seemed to speak twice as loud as usual.

The exuberance in the air reminded Hermione of the students on the last day of term. The teachers were as giddy as a first-year with a whole golden summer ahead of them.

"And then I told him I would – if I wanted all my hair to fall off!" Draco said to much merriment. Aurora was laughing so much she almost fell off her chair. Even Draco – usually the poster boy of aristocratic reserve – seemed more loose-limbed than usual, and his cheeks were a little pink.

The only staff member who looked exactly like he always did was Severus. He was propping up the bar, surveying the festivities with his usual slight sneer.

"Cheer up, love. It might never happen," Rose Barnicott told him as she passed by, her arms full of concoctions ranging from a simple bucket of beer (Hagrid's) to a dainty cocktail with a slightly bent parasol (Filius', if Hermione remembered correctly from the end-of-term party).

Severus didn't even dignify that with a reply.

Undaunted, Hermione abandoned her glass of below-average Merlot and went to pull out the bar stool next to him. By the simple expedient of getting much too close to him, so he had to move unless he wanted her to practically sit in his lap, she made him clear some space for her next to him.

"Isn't this cosy?" she asked with a cheery smile, which he met with all the scorn it deserved.

"For some, perhaps."

"You, of course, would prefer to live in a cave and never have to see any of your colleagues ever again. And yet I notice you made your way down here tonight, while poor Hopkins is stuck at the castle," Hermione said.

There was a glimmer in Snape's eyes as he answered. "With several hundred students. As much as I deplore the display of frivolity down here, it's preferable to encountering the same dunderheads I'm stuck teaching all day."

Poppy careered past them, her usually immaculate hair flying in the wind. She was pursued by Rolanda, who was cackling with laughter.

"I'll get you, just you wait!" she shouted as she was going past, and Severus curled his lip.

"Each passing moment makes me doubt the wisdom of my decision, however."

"There's always a third option," Hermione pointed out, trying to keep her face as expressionless as possible. The sudden narrowing of Severus' eyes suggested that she was less successful than she would have hoped.

"And what may that be?" he asked. The bland disinterest in his voice was the work of a master.

"You could have a drink with me." Hermione's heart was halfway to jumping out of her ribcage, but she ignored the drumming in her ears and kept looking at him steadily. The least suggestion that she wasn't entirely committed to this would be enough to make Severus bolt, and she'd never get the chance again.

"I am having a drink with you," he pointed out, in an obvious attempt to win time.

He wasn't going to turn her down straight away, then. For the first time, Hermione dared to believe she wasn't chasing after a one-in-a-million chance. The nervous fluttering of her heart slowed down into a steady beat, and her lips quirked upwards a little.

"I'd like to have a drink with you officially, as it were. No plotting or scheming, just because we enjoy spending time together."

Severus let his dark eyes rest on her for several long seconds before he spoke, but Hermione didn't twitch under his scrutiny. She'd long ago learnt not to quail under Severus' hard gaze.

"All right."

Hermione couldn't have helped herself for all the Galleons in Gringotts; her carefully neutral facial expression melted into a wide smile.

"All right? You're agreeing, just like that?

"Not tonight, though. And you're paying, of course," he said with what was almost a proper smile.

They looked at each other, deaf to the noise of their colleagues staging a drinking competition by the next table, and Severus raised his hand as if he was going to- to do something, but the next moment Hagrid (who really couldn't drink half as much as he thought he could) crashed to the floor.

Splinters of wood and pieces of broken glass flew though the air. Aberforth hollered in protest and the moment was gone.

Severus spent the rest of the evening wondering if he'd just made a colossal mistake.

He'd intended to keep his head, play for time, before "All right" had slipped out of him seemingly of its own volition. His heart and mouth had ganged up on his head, and for once he'd taken a leap of faith.

Before they'd ended the sorry mess of an Ofsted inspection he'd told Hermione that Slytherins preferred action to prevarication. Contrary to popular belief this was actually true, as long as you meant following a carefully premeditated course of action rather than recklessly following their fancy. Irritatingly, the Head of Slytherin suddenly seemed to have abandoned the habit of his whole adult life simply because Hermione Granger had smiled at him.

If he didn't pay attention he'd end up following her every whim, and how would that look? People would think he'd gone soft.

And yet he'd do it again, if- no, not if, when it came to it. Severus did nothing by half-measures, and he'd never figured out how not to make a complete fool of himself when it came to women. At this stage it was too late – the best he could hope for was that Hermione would treat him kindly.

As long as she didn't decide that he needed saving he should be quite safe.

Her way of caring for people by making them do what was best for them mightn't suit everyone – Weasley the Witless Wonder was proof of that – but Severus rather thought he could get used to it, after far too many years of no one at all giving a fig for what became of him. No doubt he'd screw it up sooner or later as usual, but one of the nicer things about Hermione was that she usually was perfectly willing to forgive and forget.

One of few benefits of her enduring friendship with Potter.

Rolanda's ruminations about who exactly had been in the tent when the Bulgarian team had taken on that bet at the Quidditch World Championships in '07 was becoming more and more involved, and Severus let his gaze wander.

Perhaps inevitably, it quickly found Hermione. She stared right back at him, eyebrows slightly raised.

Severus was bemused to find that she looked slightly concerned – was she afraid he'd changed his mind? He would have thought that he, of all people, would be acquitted of being flighty when it came to this sort of thing.

Yet, Severus couldn't resist putting her mind at rest. He nodded minutely to her, across Rolanda. It was enough. Hermione's face lit up from within, with that glorious smile she reserved for rare books and lost causes winning after all.

hr

Sybill was clinging on to the sink in what passed for the ladies' in the Hog's Head. The room was veering at a slight angle, and she resolved to bring it to Aberforth's attention. That sort of thing was very disruptive for his customers.

She plonked her voluminous handbag on the shelf above the ancient, cracked basin, and was puzzled to hear a definite 'clonk'. Strange. She'd brought her knitting needles, of course, but seeing as they were going to a pub she was pretty sure there was nothing else in there...

Oh. Of course.

Severus had been rather distracted at breakfast, what with the inspection and all, so she'd managed to swipe his tea mug from under his nose. For some reason he didn't quite like to have his fortune read, so Sybill had to resort to stealth.

She was nothing if not selfless; she liked to stay abreast of her colleagues' futures, should they need to be warned of any impending calamities.

Pulling the slightly manky teacup out of her bag, she noticed with satisfaction that the spell on it had kept the tea leaves pristine. Standing up was becoming rather onerous at this point, so she let herself slip down to the floor with her back to the wall, clutching the cup in her hand.

It took a few moments to locate her glasses again – funny how they kept escaping – but as soon as she found them wedged into her hair, she submitted the tea mug to close scrutiny.

"Curious," she muttered to herself and twisted the mug around. Very curious indeed.

In bad light Severus was a fine figure of a man, not to mention his most touching past (and his Order of Merlin, First Class). In fact, Sybill herself had delicately offered to heal his wounds soon after his return to Hogwarts, only to be rebuffed most rudely. Other witches had met with the same fate, according to rumour in the staffroom. Filius had actually seen Romilda Vane leaving the DADA classroom with her hair smouldering.

He was his own worst enemy, Severus.

It was hard to believe that a man willing to refuse a perfectly lovely young witch – not to mention a sophisticated, mature lady – finally had met his match, but the leaves didn't lie. Severus was about to embark on a successful romantic relationship with the love of his life, and Sybill couldn't wait to see the look on his face when she told him.

She only wished she knew who it was. Could it be...?

She heaved herself up again, and tried to smooth her hair down. Her shawl had been lost somewhere, but she shook her bangles out and even fished a battered lipstick out of her bag. The girl at the department store had told her the orange shade really brought out the colour of her eyes.

Sybill stood back and inspected her handiwork, swaying slightly when she released her grip on the sink.

Severus Snape wouldn't know what hit him.

-oO THE END Oo-

This story was marvellous fun to write - I hope you enjoyed reading it, too.

Reviews are most appreciated and any constructive criticism is very welcome. Anything you want to share will help me write a better story the next time.