Chapter 23

Ronald Weasley was to return home in a few short hours. During the week he had been at St. Mungo's, he had been interrogated numerous times, subjected to a Veritaserum confession, and even asked to share memories in a pensieve. The verdict had come back that he had indeed been Imperiused for over a year and it was Greyback's will, not Ron's, to attack and attempt to kill Hermione. However, no one was willing to take many chances, and he was being released from the hospital under Molly Weasley's watchful eye, and check-ins with an auror daily, to ensure there was no further contact with Greyback. Severus was not willing to chance even that. As soon as he heard the news of Ronald's imminent return, he whisked Hermione back to Hogwarts. Fortunately they had the excuse that the Easter holiday was ending so they did not have to offend Molly by rejecting her offer of further hospitality. By the time they reached his quarters, he felt like he could use another holiday to recover from the past week of excitement and recovery amongst the Weasley clan. It was just fortunate that Greyback's kidnapping plot was nicely timed to coincide with the students' weeklong sojourn to their homes.

Hermione sat down on the couch and Severus surprised himself by removing robes and coat and lying on the couch to put his head in her lap. Both had been missing the quiet intimacy of their time alone in his quarters. It was the only time he felt free enough to partially disrobe, roll his sleeves up, and truly relax. However, today was not a day to relax. He had been feeling the pressure, and from Hermione's unusual quiet, he knew she felt it too.

To start with, Ronald was being released from St. Mungo's shortly. To add to the pressure, the term began again the next day, and both had been busy throughout most of the day preparing. However, the primary source of stress for them both was the knowledge that soon – within two or three hours – they would know if Greyback had indeed bitten Severus during his time unconscious in the forest. Soon he would know, and regardless of Hermione's acceptance, he did worry about being turned out from the school and rejected by the Wizarding World. While they had never been close, Severus had watched Remus Lupin as he was shunned and struggled to find work, struggled to survive. While he had some money put aside, he did not want a future with Hermione in which he had to ask her to support them both. How could he in good conscience ask her to join her life with his when he would add pressure without being able to remove the burden? All day he had been beseeching God or whatever higher power was out there to help him. His future was hanging on one rather significant detail that would be revealed soon.

He lay there with his head on her legs, resting against her stomach with eyes closed. She was running her fingers through his hair with one hand, while he lay with fingers laced through the other. This peace was needed after what they had just finished. His private lab had been emptied of everything but a few old chairs and the door had been fortified, incase he did turn into a werewolf. All of their research and books were now stacked neatly in a corner of the sitting room, and the lab tables and instruments were either shrunk or boxed and moved into the classroom for the night. They had also discussed plans for the morning, if he was still incapacitated. She was prepared to stash away the boxes from their private lab and teach his lessons. This would be nothing too terribly surprising to the students after her near constant presence in the classroom all year, but some of the more astute would gather that something was a bit off when he made no appearance. Minerva had been informed, of course, but he worried about backlash if they did have to inform students and parents that he had been bitten. Perhaps this was karmic payback after what he did to Lupin following the man's year as a teacher. He turned his thoughts away from the stress and worries weighing him down, and focused on the witch that was trying her hardest to relax him. He adored how she absentmindedly played with a button on his shirt as her hand rested in his. He could tell her mind was going at the speed of light, but she was fighting to hide it. He knew her too well for her to get away with it, though he appreciated the effort. He glanced at the clock and saw they had time for a quick dinner before he would stow himself away in the emptied lab. He pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss before pulling himself upright.

"Come love, time to eat." What would happen after was implied, but left unsaid.

He tugged her up and was surprised when she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. It appeared she was just as worried as he about the results of the night. He knew she had to be, but it calmed him to know he was not alone in his fears. A spark of hope told him that perhaps things would not be that bad after all.

XXXX

His bed was far too large and cold without him. She clutched his pillow and breathed in his spicy scent in hopes that it would calm her enough to sleep. So far, it wasn't working. How she wished she could be in that room with him, holding his hand and comforting him through the wait. She knew how ridiculous the thought was. If he did transform, she would hardly survive a night alone in a nearly empty room with a werewolf. The little voice in her head, that irrational, emotional part of her told her that if she could be in that room waiting with him, then everything would be okay. The sun had set an hour ago, and typically the transformation would have happened by now. Yet they had agreed, just to be safe, he would give it a bit of extra time. First time transformations were a bit different. They typically happened shortly after sunset, as usual, but there had been a handful of documented cases where the first transformation had taken place three or four hours after sunset. So Hermione waited. And it was killing her to wait with no useful occupation. No book could hold her attention, there was no more work to be done for classes in the morning, and his pillow was a poor substitute for his warm form sleeping next to her.

Frustrated, she tossed the pillow aside and got up. Perhaps a cup of tea would help; that was how her mother always seemed to calm her down. She made her way to the sofa, not noticing the small owl waiting for her atop the armchair. It flew over to her, a crumpled missive in its beak. It was a letter from Ronald. She knew one would come as soon as they found out about how long he had been Imperiused. And she knew it wasn't his fault, but she still couldn't even think about him without seeing the look of malice on his face as he hexed her chest open. Logically she knew he had no control, knew he could not stop himself, but she still could not stop the nauseated feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach as she remembered how he had turned his family and Harry against her, how he tried to kill her, how he kidnapped her to deliver to Greyback. She should be able to separate Imperiused Ronald from her former friend and boyfriend Ron, but so far she just couldn't.

She took a deep breath and opened his letter. It was rather typical of Ron; the gist was, "Hi, how are you? Sorry I tried to kill you when I was Imperiused. Want to get dinner? Love, Ron."

Dinner? Sorry I tried to kill you, let's have dinner. Was he serious? Apparently a year of being controlled had done nothing for his mental prowess. The boy must be mentally gone still. Another deep breath was needed. Or two. How was she supposed to respond to that? "Hi, its alright you tried to kill me. Sorry, I can't have dinner with you; I don't know if you've been told, but I'm in love with Severus Snape." Yeah, that would go over well. She set the letter aside and warmed her now cold tea. She would worry about the letter when she could think a bit more rationally. Perhaps after she didn't have to wait and worry over Severus, locked away in his lab. She padded over and pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear something that would hint at what was happening inside, but there was nothing. She returned to the sofa and sipped her tea slowly, letting the drink calm her.

She felt herself slowly drifting awake and nestled herself closer against his neck, hoping to fall right back asleep. However, the jostling of the bed needed to stop soon or she would get really frustrated. It felt like she had only been asleep for a few minutes, and she knew she would need a few hours, at least, to be able to get up and function in the morning and keep the students from melting or exploding anything. She mumbled, "Bed, why are you moving so much?"

A deep voice caressed her in response, "My apologies love. I shall endeavor to move a bit more carefully next time."

Her eyes popped open, coming awake enough to realize it was not her bed speaking, but rather Severus carrying her across the sitting room to bed. "Severus! What – What time is it?"

"A bit past midnight. It appears I shall not have to bother you with learning Wolfsbane after all." He grinned at her, a rare true smile, rather than his usual smirk. Her arms found their way quickly around his neck and he stumbled slightly with the force of her movement.

"Severus!"

"Alright, love. I suppose I will still teach you, but not tonight. It's late and we have both had a long stressful wait." He deposited her gently on the bed and followed, pulling her close.

She was asleep almost as soon as she hit the mattress. She barely managed to mumble, "I love you Severus" then was out.

He kissed her forehead, drew the blanket around them both, and followed her into slumber.

XXXX

The following Friday evening, they sat quietly by the lake with her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, sides pressed together, her head resting on his shoulder; they were not saying a word, but speaking volumes. Both were perfectly comfortable in the silence after their long, conversation-filled dinner out. He knew she had been surprised by his last minute invitation, but was delighted nonetheless. He knew he had further surprised her by donning a suit and taking her to a lovely little Italian restaurant in muggle London. It was a place he had enjoyed in his youth – a time he rarely thought of with happiness. However, after such a long holiday followed by a week without reprieve, he felt the need for the comforts most closely associated with a happy memory of his parents. As he told Hermione, it was one of the few things from his youth that he could share with her. He could still picture the subtle shock and happiness on her face when he willingly told Hermione about his youth, about going to dinner with his parents at the age of ten to celebrate his parents' wedding anniversary.

It had been a good month. His father finally had work and was not drinking nearly as much at that time. That night his mother had managed to burn the roast, which happened more often than not. However, rather than start yelling, his father had ushered them out the door to dinner at a small family run Italian restaurant. It had actually ended up being a pleasant evening, though the peace in his childhood home certainly did not last. It had amazed him to find, on his last trip to check on the house at Spinner's End, that the restaurant was still open and run by the son of the previous owner.

The restaurant brought out feelings of nostalgia in him that rarely surfaced. As he waited for Hermione to finish in the lab, he realized he could add to his pleasant memories of the place by returning there with the woman he loved. So he had been dressed in a charcoal grey suit when Hermione finally emerged from their now-righted lab. She merely eyed him and smirked, "A red tie, really? What have I done to you, Severus?"

He followed her through the sitting room to his bedroom – theirs now, really. He was inordinately pleased to see an assortment of her things hanging in the wardrobe next to his. "I will have you know I do own more than black and green clothing. It would just not be seemly to show up at a quidditch match wearing anything other than Slytherin green. I doubt my reputation would survive, and you know how valuable that is as potions professor and Head of House. My Slytherins need that appearance so they know they can seek me out for help."

She kissed him softly and said, "Severus, that was no admonition. I understand. However, you do realize you will be seen thus when we walk through the dungeons and out of the castle at a time when all the students are going to and coming from dinner? Its hardly cold enough that you could get away with a cloak for disguise."

"I realize that. I am sure the students' heads are already full of confusion from my rather different behavior with you that a red tie is hardly going to send them over the edge. They already believe you do miraculous things for my temperament. It is certainly amusing to hear their whispers when you leave the room. It is as if they believe I will start outright hexing them without you to stop me."

"You poor dear. Your reputation as bat of the dungeons is in tatters because of a mere Gryffindor. What ever will you do?"

He kissed her soundly and have her a gentle push toward the restroom. "Get changed witch. Our dinner plans will not wait all night. You may finish your teasing later."

She proceeded to take him at his word, ribbing him happily about becoming a nostalgic softie during the meal. He understood her playful joking; he certainly would have scoffed if someone would have told him even as recently as a year ago how he would have changed under the influence of the feisty witch sitting next to him. His time serving two masters during nearly twenty years of cumulative war was enough to leave a man irrevocably scarred, but his witch, his Hermione was slowly chiseling away years of damage to free the relaxed happy man that lurked deep within him. Their delightful meal followed by a peaceful silence had left him more content than he had been in ages.

He casually brushed his pocket – to double-check its contents – before turning to Hermione.