Hermione Granger looked a last time at the clock standing on the nightstand and she leapt out of bed. The floor was cold, but somehow it felt just right for her at the moment. She washed her face and leaned over to the mirror. She carefully inspected the black shadows under her eyes and then went looking for her wand. They don’t need to know that she was suffering and spent nights without sleeping, her mind occupied with reminiscent thoughts. Twenty minutes later a composed-looking Hermione stepped out of her room. She automatically turned to go to the Headmaster’s Office, but then made up her mind. However, when she spotted the guarding gargoyle, she couldn’t help to think back how it all began.
“Raspberry Ruffles,” Hermione said, and the guarding gargoyle leapt aside. She walked inside and stepped onto the spiral staircase. Once upstairs she pushed the oak doors open and entered the Head’s Office.
The circular room was lit by sunshine and Hermione turned around to take in the peacefulness of the place. It always had this effect on her, as if she could still sense Dumbledore’s presence. She noticed that the desk was covered with papers and smiled indulgently when she saw the black feather lying next to the silver ink pot.
“Hermione,” she heard a familiar stern voice.
“Professor―, uhm, Minerva,” she corrected herself, under her glare.
“What do we owe the pleasure?” Minerva McGonagall asked her.
“I thought you knew,” Hermione said taken aback.
“Are you here for advice?” her former Head of House asked.
“Yes,” Hermione said with a nod. “What should I do?”
“Well, what do you want to do?” came another familiar voice. Her gaze shifted from McGonagall to Dumbledore.
“I don’t know. Do you think I should show him my support?”
“Does he deserve your support?” Professor McGonagall asked back.
“Well, now that I know everything about the circumstances, I think he deserves a chance to prove himself. But as the Headmaster of Hogwarts?”
“Do you think he is not worthy?” Dumbledore asked her.
“Well, sir―” Hermione started, but then stopped somewhat embarrassed. “I mean it was you who gave him a job and you’ve trusted him, but he―” she had to stop again, because she didn’t know how to express herself.
“Wasn’t the best teacher you had?” Dumbledore helped her out, chuckling.
“Yes, sir,” Hermione said frankly. “I mean, he knew his subjects, but he had failed as a teacher. He doesn’t like kids at all! I know there had been Headmasters at Hogwarts who didn’t like students,” she consented, stealing a glance towards Phineas Nigellus, “but that doesn’t mean that it has to be our standard.”
“I think that’s why he asked you to stay and act as a Deputy Headmistress, Hermione,” Professor McGonagall said. “He knows his weaknesses and knows when to ask for help.”
“Even if he doesn’t do it ungrudgingly,” Hermione remarked more to herself, but Dumbledore must have heard it, because he chuckled again. Hermione thanked them, cast a last look at both of the pictures and then left the Headmaster’s Office.
Two hours later the newly installed deputy headmistress was sitting in her office and just had written the 20th invitation letter when she decided that she needed to take a break. She lifted up the first letter and went to the window. The summer breeze was playing gently with her hair and she enjoyed the view. She read the letter aloud, just for the “taste” of it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: SEVERUS SNAPE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Archmage of Camlann)
Dear Ms. Ackerley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Hermione Granger,
Deputy Headmistress
Hermione was wondering about what kind of title that “Archmage of Camlann” was, when someone knocked on her door.
“Enter!” she replied, knowing that it would be either the caretaker or the headmaster himself.
“Miss Granger―” Severus Snape started, but was interrupted by Hermione.
“You know, you should call me Hermione, we are colleagues, after all. Even I had to call Professor McGonagall Minerva after she appointed me as a teacher.”
“I know,” he brushed her remark aside. “The two new applicants are arriving this afternoon. Please, come to my office at 4 p.m. sharp,” he said, turned and began to leave.
“But why?’ Hermione asked, making him stop in the middle of his tracks.
“Because you are my deputy headmistress, Miss Granger,” Headmaster Snape imparted.
“Fine, I’ll be there,” she consented.
“How many students do we await this year?” Snape asked, in a conversational manner.
“You know, we don’t have to make small talk,” Hermione replied coldly, a sudden insecurity gripping her. She felt somewhat relieved when the Headmaster stormed out of her office, leaving the door open. The draft took care of that, the door shut with a loud bang that rang through several corridors.
Hermione remembered how she inspected her feelings back then, and that she couldn’t get any wiser, she felt awkward around the man. At that time she couldn’t even guess why.
Severus Snape woke up in his bedroom and his first look wandered over to the nightstand next to his bed. A neatly-wrapped little parcel was lying next to the alarm clock. He leapt out of bed and shivered. The floor was really cold. After getting ready for the day, he went into his office where a steaming mug of his favourite Lapsang tea awaited him. He placed the little parcel in front of him and reached out for the first letter that needed his attendance. The letter bore a blue seal and his gaze was immediately drawn to a plush, deep blue armchair standing next to the fireplace opposite to a rather plain black one. His memories transported him back to the day when it all began.
“Please, leave your references with Professor Granger and we will get in touch with you as soon as we decide,” Severus told the applicants and showed them out, leaving Hermione alone.
He came back soon and found her looking around, taking in the changes he made. Suddenly he wanted to hear her opinion about it, but he couldn’t quite say why it seemed so important to him.
“You don’t like it, do you?” he asked.
“No, it’s not like that!” Hermione protested, but looked as if she had been caught. “So, what did you think about those two?” she tried to change the subject.
“Why don’t you like it?” Severus asked, pressing on.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just― Well, I don’t know how to explain it. This place was always like a―” she stuttered. “I don’t know, like an island of peace in the stormy sea. And now―” she stopped again. “Well, it vibrates,” she admitted, a bit shamefacedly.
“It vibrates?” Severus asked back, demanding an explanation.
“Yes, when Dumbledore occupied this room it was like him, like this big Pensieve. You could feel the wisdom. Not that you are not wise,” she hurried to reassure him, and then blushed deeply when her gaze met his penetrating dark eyes. “Anyway,” she continued, when she found herself again able to speak, “this is your office and you can do whatever you want to do.”
“Say it!” Severus almost ordered her. “Say, that you don’t like it.”
“I won’t lie just to give you the satisfaction that you had been right. I can’t say I don’t like it, because that’s not true. It’s just a matter of time until I get used to it.”
“So you won’t change anything about it?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, and shook her head vigorously, but then suddenly stopped the movement.
“What?” Severus asked, noticing her hesitation.
“Well, there is one thing I would change,” she said, tentatively.
“I’m all ears, Miss Granger,” Severus said, his intent gaze resting upon her face.
“There is too much black here,” she whispered.
“Pardon me? I didn’t hear you well,” he asked, taken aback.
“Well, you could try another colour for a change,” Hermione suggested.
“Like blue?” he asked, looking at Hermione’s teal robes.
“If you want to,” Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Green would be acceptable too,” she said. “So what about those two?” she asked, her tone businesslike.
They discussed the two new applications and finally Hermione stood to leave. She took a look around again and then caught Severus’ eyes inspecting her.
“Does this change mean that I don’t have to come up with new passwords for this office?” she asked him. It was Hermione’s task to provide Muggle-sweet names for passwords, this way honouring the former Headmaster of Hogwarts.
“Yes, I’ll change the password and then tell you in due time,” Severus said, and then stood up too.
“Are you coming with me?” Hermione asked him, following his movements.
“Yes, I’ll escort you to your quarters and then check upon the kitchen and Filch. I have to make sure that everything is ready for the start of term.”
Upon finishing reading the letters he took new parchment and his favourite black quill to write the answers. However, he couldn’t decide what to write and so he left his office to take a walk in the castle. He always found it extremely relaxing wandering around in this magnificent building. Fortunately, no one disturbed his tour today and it was better this way. He checked the Staff Room and found Angelica Chervil, the new Herbology teacher conversing with Professor Flitwick. He greeted them with a nod and inquired if they needed something for their classes, because he had to compile a list of supplies. They both nodded, but then Flitwick told him Hermione already asked every teacher for a list of missing supplies and they gave it to her yesterday afternoon. Severus excused himself and left the room in a hurry. Sometimes, he felt like an idiot. He should have known that Hermione hadn’t forgotten the list. She always did her job impeccably. He exactly remembered the first time it occurred to him that Hermione was really the best choice he made. Yes, he realized that the day before Halloween.
‘Everything went smoothly thanks to Hermione’, he reflected, after finishing his dinner. He knew she was the perfect choice, but wasn’t sure he could work with her efficiently enough. They were very different after all, and then there was their past. Sometimes he meant to know what Hermione was thinking of him and sometimes he meant to see that question in her eyes when he caught her secretly observing him. ‘Yes, everything is perfect,’ he admitted and then took a look around. Hermione was sitting on his left, speaking to Astor Swampscare, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Students were chatting happily at their house tables, but he suddenly caught a glance directed towards him. It was the Head Girl from Gryffindor. Severus remembered her from his Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons many years ago, her name was Shelly Hunter, if memory served right. And now she was eying him suspiciously. He held her gaze and tried to read her mind to get to the bottom why she acted with scepticism towards him. He suddenly felt an elbow coming in contact with his ribs.
“You are not trying to read her mind, are you?” Hermione hissed angrily.
He turned to her and couldn’t hold back a faint smile.
“What are you smiling about? It’s not polite to read someone’s mind, who isn’t aware of it or hasn’t consented to it!” Hermione whispered agitatedly.
“She started it,” Severus said in defence.
“She can do Legilimency?” Hermione asked, flabbergasted.
“Of course, not!” he replied indignantly. “She is only a student.”
“You would be surprised if I’d tell you what a seventh year student could accomplish,” Hermione retorted.
“Really?” Severus asked back, surprised. “You could come to my office after dinner and recount what you have done as a seventh year,” he said, thinking about the plush, deep blue armchair that was delivered today.
“You know all about that,” Hermione snubbed his invitation with the remark. “Now, tell me, why you wanted to read her mind,” she insisted.
“It’s none of your business,” Severus retorted, hurt by the rebuff.
“Was it because she didn’t forgive you?” Hermione pressed on. She didn’t look at him, but was watching the girl in question.
“Forgive me?” he asked back, sounding incredulous. “She bears a grudge against me? Because of―” he wanted to ask, if it was because of his actions before the final battle, but Hermione interrupted him.
“Of course because of that,” Hermione stated the truth. “And several other things too,” she added as an afterthought. “Remember, she was already at Hogwarts when you were only a teacher. And you never liked Gryffindors. I seem to remember that she lost Gryffindor twenty-five points because of you,” Hermione said with a smile Severus couldn’t decipher.
He still had problems with interpreting what her smiles meant, just like it was difficult for him to guess what Hermione was thinking. The best proof of that was their argument at Halloween.
Severus went down to the Great Hall and noticed with satisfaction that the hall was decorated according to his orders. If someone had asked which his favourite feast was, he would have said Halloween. He sat down and delicious food appeared on everybody’s plate. He looked around searching, Hermione was sometimes eating with one of the houses. She said it would give the impression that they were caring about the students’ well-being and morale, not just about their education. Severus permitted her to spend four dinners a month away from the teachers’ table. But that night he couldn’t spot her anywhere. He felt a strange feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He beckoned Filch over and sent him after Hermione. He knew if she was immersed in one of her books she could loose her sense of time. Filch came back later and shook his head. Severus stayed for another half an hour, but then stood up “deeply disappointed“ and left the room. He didn’t want to explain why he wanted to spend this evening with Hermione, but she made a clear statement with her absence. He was very angry at her, it didn’t even occur to him that Hermione couldn’t possibly know that this was his favourite feast, let alone that he wanted to spend it with her. He went back to his office and started reading a book on ancient potions. He read about twenty pages when he heard a knock.
“Enter!” he answered, because he thought it must be Filch.
“You wanted to speak?” Hermione asked, after she stepped inside.
“Where were you?” Severus asked her, his tone accusatory.
“I was at the Weasleys’,” Hermione informed him. “I’ve told you I’ve got an invitation for Halloween!” she told him in defence.
“I thought you were going on the weekend!” Severus snarled at her.
“Well, next time pay attention to what I’m saying. I’ve told you for Halloween, not the weekend after Halloween,” she snapped back, but then took a deep breath and asked softly, “What did you want to speak about?”
Severus counted to ten too and then looked into her eyes, he was surprised to see that she was looking at him with real interest.
“I just wanted to talk about Christmas. I won’t be here for―” he started to say, but Hermione’s shake of the head stopped him. “What?”
“You must be here at Christmas. What about the students who cannot go home for Christmas?” she asked him reproachfully. “You have to be here for them,” she insisted.
“Hermione,” the word slipped out. It was bound to happen, recently he always thought of her as Hermione.
She was staring at him disbelievingly for a minute. She always reminded him to call her Hermione, but he refused to use her name until this evening.
“Hermione,” he repeated and then went on, “I don’t want to discuss this, I won’t be here at Christmas.”
“But I have already planned everything!” Hermione exclaimed in despair.
“What have you planned?” Severus asked, giving in. He thought hearing her out won’t hurt him.
“I have planned an evening with the parents: performance of the younger children for their parents, then a Yule Ball for the older students and their parents. You could have danced with the mothers of the Head Boy and the Head Girl and with the two ladies from the Board of Governors.”
“I don’t dance, Hermione,” he told her, stressing the word don’t.
“Of course you don’t when you are not here,” she whispered, and clearly disappointed started to inspect the floor beneath her feet. “May I ask for the why?” she asked then, suddenly looking up at him.
Severus was contemplating whether he should tell her the truth or not, but then decided on telling. For a reason, he couldn’t quite formulate, not even for himself.
“I hate Christmas,” he confessed.
“You hate Christmas? But―” Hermione was speechless. She was looking at him with pity in her eyes, but when there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was pity.
“Don’t waste your pity on me, Miss Granger,” he said so emotionless that even the most active volcano could have been put out by the coldness of his voice.
“I don’t pity you. I wouldn’t even dare,” she retorted. “I was merely showing compassion. You know that you are sometimes paranoid?” Hermione asked curiously, after some moments of uncomfortable silence.
“Yes, I know that,” Severus admitted. “Given the circumstances I have every right to be paranoid.”
“Not when I am concerned,” Hermione said almost sounding reprimanding. “You’ve asked me to stay and act as deputy headmistress. I’ve stayed and I am doing my job as your assistant. You don’t need to be paranoid about me. And don’t call me Miss Granger anymore!” she added as an afterthought.
“How is Mr. Potter?” Severus asked, feeling that a change of topic would be just the right distraction from his own surfacing feelings. He had suddenly realized why he wanted to share them with Hermione.
“He is very happy,” Hermione informed him. “He is engaged.”
“To Miss Weasley?” Severus asked.
“Yes. Ginny proposed to him and he said yes,” Hermione said, after a short giggle.
“And how is Arthur?” Severus asked, his voice concerned.
“You know, you could ask that from him yourself,” Hermione suggested, but it really sounded like a mere suggestion, not like as if she wanted to press him.
“I could, but I won’t,” he said, not even trying to name his reasons. “So, how is he?”
“Considering that he had lost two sons and his eyesight, he is well. He was very happy that Ginny and Harry are going to marry. Oh, and Fleur is expecting,” she informed him, and he couldn’t miss the longing undertone.
“Are you thinking about him much?” Severus asked her, knowing that to hear her answer wouldn’t be pleasant for him.
“What kind of question is that?” Hermione asked back, staring at him blankly. “Of course, I have to think about him much. We were engaged. I loved him and he’ll always have a special place in my heart,” she elaborated, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I didn’t want to sound insensitive, I apologize. I think, I can stay for Christmas,” he added, to cheer Hermione up.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged his ‘sacrifice’, excused herself and left.
Yes, that was the day when he realized how much she meant to him. How she slowly seeped into his life and under his skin, first conquering his thoughts then his heart. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he took course towards his office with the firm resolution to answer those letters. But maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Two long hours he kept staring at the blank parchment, but he couldn’t write down a single word. Then a sudden realization appeared in his eyes, he dipped the quill into the ink pot and started to scribble down a letter. A letter, he hoped, that would change his life forever.
Meanwhile Hermione finished her Potions lesson with the Gryffindor fifth years, and after warning them again about revising, she let them out. She wasn’t in the mood for a chat in the Staff Room, so she went back to her office where she found a letter on her desk. It was from Ginny and it was full of silly things. They apparently had a good time on their honeymoon in France. Hermione, in a sudden surge of daring, took parchment and quill out and drafted a letter about her feelings towards Severus Snape. Before she could make up her mind, she sealed the letter and sent Pig away with the message. Seeing the little owl soaring through the window she remembered how many letters she had to write recently. At the end of January she was still answering letters of gratitude for organising the Christmas Party at Hogwarts.
She let out a bitter chuckle as she remembered watching Severus conversing with various parents. Every one of them came. Even the fathers. Hermione of course knew that most of them attended because they were curious about Severus, but they came nonetheless and she made sure that they had a good time. She also knew that Severus didn’t really want that kind of attention, but she reassured him that he wouldn’t have to go to another ball in this school year. He had to admit, and to Hermione’s utter astonishment he actually did, that he enjoyed the evening. Maybe the dancing part less than the conversing one, but he did his duty and danced with the mothers of the Head Boy and the Head Girl. Hermione told him he should ask the two board governors too, but he flatly refused. Hermione herself had to endure some bad dancers. Members of the Board of Governors, the fathers of the Head Girl and Head Boy and of the prefects, they all thought that they should dance with Hermione, when all she wanted was to share a dance with her headmaster. But she had been waiting in vain. Eventually she had to realize that Severus was not the romantic person she pictured herself and she would probably never have a dance with him. Not in this lifetime anyway. She knew better as to bring up the subject, but it bothered her nonetheless. Finally she understood that it was this Severus she fell in love with and that trying to change him would be vain. Besides, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to do that. He was over forty and well, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
Hermione remembered that as February drew nearer she was constantly reminded of the truth of this old saying. He was definitely headstrong and sometimes downright obstinate. So she should have seen it coming.
It happened on the first day of February, when he surprised her by confessing that he missed teaching. Hermione was shocked to hear this, she never had the impression that he really wanted to teach. And a fortnight ago they had an argument, at which end she blew her chance once and for all to be romantically involved with Severus Snape. She confronted him with his earlier actions, with his biased treatment of students, with his lack of method while teaching and with his favouritism towards Slytherin House. Since that day he completely ignored her, treating her even more badly than back in the days when they were teacher and student.
But whenever someone knocked on her door she secretly hoped that it would be him, however, to no avail. He didn’t come. She waited for him on the two past Saturday evenings, when after curfew he usually appeared with his book and they sat together, reading.
On a stormy November day’s night Hermione was reading by the fire when someone knocked on the door. She wondered why Filch would disturb her this time. She didn’t know the reason, but the old caretaker rather came to her about students out of bed after curfew. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb Severus, but until that night she was already called out three times to investigate why students left their dormitories after hours. So she donned her dressing gown over her pyjamas and went to open the door.
“Headmaster,” she exclaimed in surprise. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yes, indeed there is,” Severus answered and stepped inside. “My room is extremely cold tonight and I wanted to read this book,” he said, showing her a book about dangerous potions.
“Well, make yourself home,” Hermione offered him the other chair at the fireplace. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate?” Severus asked in a tone as if she had offered him petroleum.
“That’s what I drink on these cold nights,” she explained. “But I see that you are not very fond of them. Tea, then? Lapsang, right?”
“Right,” Severus answered with a satisfied smile. “What are you reading?”
“A Muggle-novel,” Hermione said, while conjuring up another mug of hot chocolate and a cup of black tea for Severus.
“A Muggle-novel?” Severus asked, taken aback.
“Well, I’m a Muggle-born witch,” Hermione explained.
“The Da Vince Code,” he read out loud, after Hermione handed him the book. “About Da Vinci?”
“Yes, and no,” Hermione said. “It’s more difficult than that. I’d tell you to read it, but it’s about the Muggle-world and it is possible that you wouldn’t find it entertaining, although it’s an intellectual challenge.”
“I’m a Half-Blood, remember?” Severus said, reading the back of the book.
“How could I forget?” Hermione whispered. Two years ago, when McGonagall asked her to be the new Potions teacher, Hermione, acting upon the instructions of Harry, secured the Half-Blood Prince’s Potions book. Since September she kept reading it like a diary, she wanted to know what drove Severus Snape. What drove him when he was a young man? Because, Hermione realized, that it was that young man that determined today’s Headmaster.
Severus handed her the book back without a word. He sipped on his tea and then returned to his own book.
And since that he always showed up on Saturday evening to share the joys of reading together. It was completely their secret. Somehow Hermione was very happy about having a secret with Severus. Sometimes she had the feeling that Filch was suspecting them, but then again, how could he? She very much doubted that Severus told this to the caretaker.
Another memory lit up her face. It was on one of these Saturday evenings when she first called him Severus. He didn’t tell her to call him Severus, so Hermione was quite nervous when it slipped from her. However, he only looked up from his book and heard out what she had to say. He made no comment about the slip of the tongue. Hermione interpreted this that he didn’t mind and called him Severus from that moment on.
Waving aside the memories, she stood up and went down to the Great Hall. It was one of those evenings when she was sitting at one of the house tables. Today it was Gryffindor and she was happy about being together with her house. As headmistress she tried to be as unbiased as she could be, but she always had a soft spot for Gryffindors. She saw that today was one of the recently rare days when the headmaster honoured the dinner with his presence. She watched him intently so she noticed the exact moment he spotted her. She greeted him with a short nod of the head and then, not even waiting for a return of the greeting, she sat down next to a first year Gryffindor boy. She smiled at the little boy cheerfully, concealing her heart’s ache masterfully. She was conversing with one of the prefects when she noticed that Severus disappeared. She sighed with a heavy heart, but the sound of the familiar clearing of throat made her heart skip a bit.
“May I borrow Professor Granger, Miss Sheridan?” he asked in his most polite tone and received a slightly nervous nod from Bridget Sheridan.
Hermione looked up at him for an explanation, but when she met his eyes she wanted to look away. However, he held her gaze.
“I have to formulate a letter to the Board of Governors, and your help is required,” he explained.
Hermione nodded, said her goodbyes and then left with Severus. All the way up to his office they walked in complete silence. After they entered the office, Severus led her to his chair and with a movement of his hand he indicated that she should sit down. The rebellious part of her heart wanted to protest against such treatment, the loving part said she should abide. She had suffered so long that tonight she let the ‘foolish’ part win.
Severus placed a draft in front of her. She knew what her job was, she had to write the letter so that it was acceptable. That was why she became the headmistress, because of her social skills and diplomatic manner. Any other night she would have made Severus write the letter, but on that evening she only took the black feather and began scribbling down the words. After she was ready, she stood up and began to leave. She wavered a bit to give Severus the chance to call after her, but he left the chance unused. She closed the door and stood still for a moment. She felt let down and descended the stairs downcast. She slouched to her quarters and entered her room in a haze. She went to her desk to pick up her book to bring it with her to bed. There were two letters sitting on her desk. To her utter bewilderment there was a red envelope from Ginny. She could guess the reason and she knew she shouldn’t delay for the letter was already smoking at the corners.
How could you? How could you write such a letter to me? How could you mention his name with my brother’s in one sentence? How could you make Harry upset? How dare you?
With that the envelope caught fire and burnt to ashes. When the echo of the last word died away a very angry Headmaster of Hogwarts stood in the middle of her room.
“What was that?” he asked fuming.
“Nothing,” she answered, shaking her head. “Really,” she assured him, seeing that he wanted to ask something else. “I’ve deserved that,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Hermione?” Severus asked her unsurely.
“Everything is okay. Could you, please, leave me alone?” she begged him. She didn’t want him to see her cry. She hated to show him her weakness.
“No, not while you are in this state,” he refused and stepped closer.
Hermione stretched out her hand to stop him. She couldn’t bear his closeness, not now.
“What was the Howler about, Hermione?” he asked again.
“I don’t even know what came over me,” she muttered barely audible, opening the other letter to occupy her trembling hands. She didn’t notice that Severus held his breath back for a second. “It didn’t matter anymore, but I felt I have to tell her. I should have known better.”
She shook the letter open and started to read. Her eyes widened with every word she read. Tears blurred her sight as she looked up.
“Do you mean this really?” she asked, pointing to the letter.
“Yes. I was unfair. I have told you to always tell me the truth, to always speak your mind, and you just did so on that evening. And, of course, you were right. I don’t know what to say. I know that my behaviour was unjustifiable, but I hope you could forgive me.”
“It wasn’t your behaviour on that evening that troubled me,” Hermione confessed in a whisper, “it was your behaviour since that.”
“I’m apologizing for my rudeness.”
“You have hurt me,” Hermione told him.
“I have never meant to hurt you, Hermione,” he whispered.
“I don’t even hope that you won’t do that anymore,” Hermione said, after she stood still in front him, an indulgent smile playing on her lips. “But I don’t want to change you.”
“You have already changed me,” Severus said, taking her right hand into his.
“To an almost unnoticeable amount,” Hermione said, placing her left hand over his heart, she caressed the fabric of his robe.
“Oh, that,” Severus said with a crooked smile, looking down at his chest where Hermione’s hand rested on the dark green robe. “I have had this robe since Halloween.”
“I know, I noticed you were wearing it on Halloween. I was so sorry, I didn’t know that feast means so much to you,” she explained.
“You’ve noticed and didn’t comment on it?” Severus asked bewildered.
“I didn’t know what I should tell.”
“That would have been a first time,” Severus joked.
“I had some ideas, but I didn’t want to share them with you,” Hermione retorted.
“Such as?” Severus asked, letting go of her right hand and encircling her waist.
“How incredibly good you’ve looked on that night in your mossy green robes,” she whispered, a blush creeping up her face.
“Do you know what day today is?” he suddenly asked, hiding his embarrassment.
“Friday?” she asked unsurely.
“I’ve meant the date, darling,” he clarified.
“The 14th,” she told him, not daring to comment on the term of endearment.
“Valentine’s Day,” he said, a bit impatiently.
“Really? Valentine’s Day is very overrated in my opinion,” she hurried to tell. She didn’t want him to get the false impression, that she wanted something from him for Valentine’s Day.
“In accordance with that remark do I have to assume that you are not interested in getting a gift from your ‘sweetheart’?” he asked mockingly and took a half step back, in order to produce the little box from one of his pockets.
“A gift?” Hermione asked, taken aback. “You shouldn’t have!” she squealed like a teenage girl, when she saw the little box. “You have given such beautiful presents for Christmas,” she said, staring at the box in his hands.
“Typical of you. No one else would call quills and books beautiful,” he said, yes, with a chuckle. “I’m waiting to hear the words,” he added, when he saw that Hermione was eying the little box.
“Do you want to know why I’ve gotten that Howler from Ginny?” Hermione asked him.
“Uhm, yes,” he agreed, a bit confused.
“I’ve felt I have to write about my feelings towards you.”
“You have what?” he asked back incredulously.
“I told her I thought I loved you,” she confessed, looking up into his eyes, waiting for him to make or break her.
Severus was speechless for almost a minute.
“You thought?” he finally found his voice.
“Actually, I am hundred percent sure,” Hermione said, with a relieved laugh. She didn’t know what he would make of her confession.
“Thank you,” he said, sounding solemn, and Hermione knew that this won’t be the night, when he would return the confession, but she knew that deep in his heart he loved her. “And now, I have to insist upon the words,” he said, chuckling again.
“What kind of words?” Hermione asked him.
“You have to forgive me, before I give you the present, or else you could call it bribery.”
“I forgive you,” she said and then graciously took the little box from him. She unwrapped it and then opened the lid. A pendant was lying on a velvet cushion, it was a sapphire heart-shaped pendant on a silver chain.
“Thank you,” Hermione told him and after he fastened it around her neck, she leant over and kissed him. “Can I have just one more question?” she asked after the kiss.
“Every time, darling, every time,” he said, smiling into her bushy hair. He didn’t fear that question anymore. Not when Hermione wanted to know.
“What is an Archmage of Camlann?” she asked and saw that her question took him by surprise.
“Well, if you accept my invitation for tomorrow, then I’ll tell you.”
“Where are we going to?” she inquired.
“It’s a surprise,” he replied.
“I thought I loved surprises, but I’m not so sure now,” Hermione said, giggling and kissed Severus one more time.
“You know, I’ve never really known what love is, but now I know. And it’s because of you,” Severus confessed after the kiss.
Many thanks to Phoenix5225, my Beta for this fic.