"Where are you off to?" he asked.

She couldn't determine the … mood behind the question. Curiosity? Disappointment? Indifferent, just being the observant person Severus Snape was? He would certainly notice she changed clothes and was dressed up. She didn't come here looking like a slob, but she didn't dress for dinner out at a nicer restaurant either.

This was the first evening in a while, months really, that she'd made dinner and prepared to leave right away. Was he glad to see she was leaving? Or would he miss her, even a little, this evening? She knew she was going to miss their time together. It was the reason she'd said yes to dinner. The more time she spent with Severus, the deeper she was falling for him. To this point he had given no indication he knew of her feelings, or would ever reciprocate.

She put on a brave face, hoping it wasn't dreadfully obvious that she was hoping he'd ask her to stay here instead of leaving.

"Dinner out with Harry and Ginny."

"How lovely," he said.

"Yes, well, I'll be sure to relay your regards to them."

"Please do," he drawled. How two words could effectively convey sarcasm and distaste, she wasn't sure. They did, though. She knew he didn't hate Harry. He was likely annoyed that his efforts at protecting her best friend were made more difficult by their activities. She felt his eyes on her, and tried not to fidget or behave as if she was doing anything wrong. She put the finishing touches on the scarf around her neck, smoothing the skirt of her dress down once she thought everything looked all right. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Like what?" she asked.

Did she not look all right? She had spent over an hour this morning picking out this outfit and coordinating shoes, a scarf, her wrap, and jewelry. She wanted to look nice without appearing as if she went through a great effort to look that way. Harry and Ginny would both know that she did put in an effort, of course. They weren't who she was concerned about.

Harry was trying to set her up with an auror from France who was in town for a few months. Hermione was not counting on it going well, but she was willing to have dinner and dress up a bit. She figured it would be a good distraction from this wizard, who was completely out of her reach.

He gestured to her with his hand. Was she supposed to know what that meant?

"What?"

"What you're wearing," he hissed.

"It's a dress. I know you're familiar with the concept. I'm meeting the three of them at a muggle restaurant to avoid attracting attention."

His brow furrowed, which she was coming to know meant he was processing her words. Thinking.

"Mr. Weasley, too?"

"No, his name is Artur."

His lips thinned. 

"What kind of name is that?"

"French, I presume since he's from France. Harry didn't specify. He's working with Harry, and he thought we might hit it off. It might be disastrous, but maybe not."

His eyes narrowed to go with the thinned lips. What was that for? Dare she hope the idea of her having a date bothered him?

"You're going to move to France?"

"I might." She shrugged, grabbing her purse. Take that obtuse-answering man. I can do it, too! "I could be a healer anywhere."

"You'd be a fool to haul your arse to France for a wizard, Hermione."

"Yes, well, I'm not hauling my arse anywhere but to dinner right now." She flicked her wrist to fill the sink with water. "Please at least put your dishes in the sink when you're through. I'll wash them in the morning with the breakfast ones. Have a good night, Severus."

"You, too," he said, sounding angry if she wasn't mistaken.

She stopped at the small mirror behind the door and adjusted the hat she wore. She stuck her tongue out at him for good measure, not that he could see it with his back to her.

Then maybe he could …

Impossible.

Why was he being so short with her? She assumed he'd be thrilled she was getting out of his hair hours earlier than usual tonight.

She was stupid to believe she'd ever understand him! The sad part was that she wanted to, so it was her own fault for even trying.

She left then, making her way to the area she could apparate from. There hadn't been one before he woke from his coma. The Ministry had paid for a fence to be installed around Severus' backyard so that the healers could apparate right here. She wasn't sure he saw it as an upgrade or not. She had insisted to Kingsley that once his therapy was finished the permissions had to be revoked. He'd assured her he would see to it. If he didn't, she'd personally come tear the fence down, because the man deserved better than people popping into his backyard. (Harry would love to do it, but there were strict orders only those on official business were to do so.)

Apparating in heels could be a tricky business when she wasn't used to wearing them to begin with. Heels didn't quite go with being a healer. Add in being December and a bit slick. She made it fine, though  She walked the short distance to the restaurant they were meeting at, hoping this wasn't a huge mistake.

Dinner with friends shouldn't be a mistake.

Dinner with what Harry hoped to be a blind date, on the other hand, could be. He wasn't as bad as her flatmates, but he still seemed to think she should be on her way to being married.

"There she is," she heard Harry say when she stepped inside. She removed her gloves, glancing at the wizard who was to be her companion for the night. He was tall. Really tall. Severus was tall, but Artur was even taller. He was not as thin as Severus. His hair was incredibly short, so short it was hard to tell whether it was dark blonde or brown. And his eyes, at a glance, looked blue.

"Here I am!"

She gave Harry and Ginny a hug and kiss before offering her hand to who she presumed was Artur.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Granger."

"And you as well, Mister Dufort, but please call me Hermione."

"Very well, and likewise, Artur."

"They were just getting ready to seat us."

"Oh, was I late?" she asked.

She hadn't even noticed the time when she'd left Severus' house. She knew she was cutting it close. She was a bit nervous about this dinner. It was her first date since she realized she had feelings for the other wizard. She hadn't expected him to ask her where she was going. She hadn't expected to feel a little … guilty about having dinner with someone else. Harry knew her better than her flatmates, but still seemed to have interesting ideas on a suitable date for her from time to time so she hadn't mentioned it.

"Right on time," Artur said. "May I escort you to our table?"

"Please," she said.

She settled her hand in the crook of his offered arm. She could get used to this if this was how he treated a date. The last one Harry had tried to set her up with had talked about himself and quidditch for twenty minutes straight. He hadn't seemed interested in holding her chair for her or anything. Not that she needed those things done for her, but it was nice once in a while to feel fretted over. Her parents had raised her with those things.

"So, Harry tells me you are a healer," Artur said once they'd been seated and had ordered drinks.

"I am."

"I toured your St. Mungo's. You were apparently not there. I'd remember."

Oh, he would not have, but it was nice of him to say so.

"I wouldn't have been, no." She glanced at Harry, surprised he hadn't told Artur who she was caring for. Or at least that she was doing one-on-one, housebound care. "Right now I have one patient I'm treating in-home. Hopefully, he'll be fully recovered soon so I can return to my regular duties."

Start on her regular duties was more like it. She'd gotten done with her training, done some rounds to try and determine if there was something she wanted to focus on more than others. All of the healers seemed to treat everything, but it was clear for cases like maternity, geriatric, and pediatric that there were healers who preferred those cases (and were given them as a result if they were on duty). She hadn't really decided what her preference was when Severus' healer before her had quit.

She'd approached Kingsley about being assigned to him. He'd spoken with her superior. And here she was.

"How is your patient?" Harry asked.

She knew it was a sore spot for Harry that Hermione was in his house every day and she wouldn't allow him to pop in for a visit to quiz Severus about the memories he'd shared the night of the final battle. It wouldn't stop there, either. Hermione knew that, which was why she hadn't invited him to this point. He'd have questions about his parents, and other things. Things Severus had the right to answer or not and, when he did, it should be on his terms not because Hermione was his healer.

"He is fine," she said with a shrug.

What else was there to say? I've fallen in love with the wizard? I'm here tonight because I realize that it's the most foolish thing I could do? That I want to at least attempt to see if there's someone out there who might love me back?

When Ron had pushed to get married and start a family she'd thought he was completely daft to contemplate doing that fresh off of a war. (While happy for Harry and Ginny, she admittedly thought that they were a little daft, too.) The more time she spent with Severus, though, especially the evenings with him when she wasn't there as his healer. Well, she was getting up close and personal experience as to the things she envisioned she would enjoy about marriage.

That thought made her blush because there were certainly aspects of marriage they hadn't gotten to, the physical ones, that a part of her would very much like to.

With him.

"You've lasted there months, no one else could last a week. A few barely lasted hours. What's your secret, Hermione?" This was Ginny's contribution to the conversation. She was a little miffed, too, but at least seemed to understand what Hermione's mindset was. Hermione understood where Ginny was coming from. Her husband wanted information. Closure. Hermione just couldn't do that.

"I don't know. I really don't. When I first started, he was bordering on mean, but eventually he grew more tolerant. Or I developed thicker skin. Possibly both."

She took the glass of wine she'd ordered when it had been set before her. She didn't want to talk about Severus. She was afraid if she said too much about him, Harry and Ginny would know she'd gone and fallen in love with the wizard.

Wouldn't that be a laugh? The brightest witch of her age falling for the least available wizard there was.

"That's enough talking about work. Yeah," she said, moving her glass to the middle of the table. The other three clinked their glasses against hers for a toast and they each took a sip.

It was nice.

They'd eaten and talked for a couple of hours. She really had no complaints, nothing to get mad at Harry about for thinking this man would be of interest to her. Ordinarily, maybe he would be. He seemed at least of average intelligence, and was successful in his career.

Artur was polite if not a little stiff, but she supposed she would be too if she was in a strange country having dinner with essential strangers. One of whom being The Boy Who Lived. He kissed the back of her hand with a not at all pretentious bow over it before he left from the spot they were apparating from. He didn't try to kiss her, which was a relief. It had been a pleasant evening, but she wasn't sure it was "good night kiss in front of her best friend and his wife" nice. He probably knew Harry wanted to talk to her because Hermione knew that he did.

"So?" Harry asked as soon as Artur had left.

"He's nice," she said.

She knew that's what Harry wanted to hear, and he was nice. He just wasn't Severus. And that thought depressed her because this wasn't a fourteen or fifteen year old infatuation. This was knowing going into it that he was damaged and hurting. And falling in love with him anyway. Again, as if she had a choice.

"Nice enough to see again?"

"I don't know. You may want to ask him. He's probably expecting something more from me than being a healer."

"No, actually, he wasn't. That was one of the reasons I thought you might like him. He finished at Beauxbatons our first or second year, so before You Know Who came back. He was serving in the muggle government doing something not even in France for most of the war so was kind of out of the loop. He knew the broad strokes but not the nitty gritty details."

"I see," she said, nibbling on her lower lip.

She hadn't realized he was that much older than they were. Not that five or six years older was too old. He just hadn't seemed older. And someone not knowing every nook and cranny of gossip was refreshing.

"I think we got her, Harry," Ginny said, giving a soft squee of delight.

"You don't have me anywhere yet. I said he's nice. I'm still busy."

"Not that busy."

"Harry, he's only here for a few months. What were you expecting? Me to fall in love with him and move to France? I'm single, not destitute or miserably unhappy."

"I know, he just seemed nice and when he didn't know much about you…"

"That's definitely a plus. I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I just really am happy where I'm at right now. Anyway, thank you for dinner. We should do this again sometime, without a blind date as the reason. Really. I miss you!"

She did miss them, but she was choosing to spend her evenings with Severus instead of them. She was making a conscious decision, choosing a wizard who would never think of her as anything but his healer (if he thought of her even as that) over her best friend and his wife. Harry would watch Close Encounters of the Third Kind with her. Harry wasn't Severus, though.

"Well, we're not the one spending time in muggle Cokeworth," Ginny said.

"Yes, well, it is what it is."

"How is he really?" Harry asked. She wondered when he was going to work it into their conversation. He had to be dying to ask.

She knew her best friend was genuinely concerned. She also knew that he very much wanted to talk to the wizard who was her patient.

She shrugged. She could fill him in a little without betraying any of her patient's trust.

"I don't know. Am I worried about him? Yes, but you and I are the only ones who seem to understand why. He assumed he was going to die. I'm not sure that he's decided yet that surviving was a good thing. I really don't feel comfortable telling you more than that. It's not my place to."

"I understand."

"Thank you. It's just not right. If he wasn't Severus you wouldn't be asking."

"Severus, huh?" Ginny said.

"Oh, for crying out loud. I spend hours with the man. He told me a while ago to call him that."

"You had fun though?" Harry asked, giving her a hug. She was grateful he cut Ginny off. She knew what her response would be. He hadn't let any of his other healers call him Severus. Hermione was aware of this, but she tried not to focus on it or think it meant more than it did.

"I did. I always have fun with you, Harry. Thank you. I really did need it. It was nice to dress up and be a woman, not a nurse for a little while."

"I bet. Well, let me know when you want to again. Even if it's just a quick bite we can do it."

Now that she spent her evenings with Severus, she wasn't having nightly dinners with them anymore. She hadn't realized how much she missed that until this moment. There had to be a balance she could find of splitting evenings between Severus' and Harry's. The thing was she liked her evenings with Severus. And that was probably very bad. There was nothing good that could come out of allowing her heart to become more invested in the man.

"I will. Have a good night."

"You're okay getting home?" Harry asked.

"Of course."

"Okay, just making sure."

"Night, Ginny," she said with a final wave. She had to admit, as evenings went it could have been worse.

"How was your date?" Severus asked at breakfast the next morning.

He sounded … not exactly surly, but definitely as if he was not in the best of moods. That wasn't entirely odd for the wizard, but she thought they'd gotten past him copping an attitude with her just because he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or woke up at all. She knew that he didn't want to be here.

She looked at him for any indication that he hadn't slept well, but didn't see any signs of that. She could usually tell when he'd had a particularly bad night. Sleeplessness and nightmares added up to him having some very bad nights. She suffered from both herself, and he had a lot more things to cause him to lose sleep or have visit him in his dreams.

He didn't complain of it often, but she imagined there was pain and discomfort that went beyond the rehabilitation exercises she worked with him on. What would the recovery time for an injury like his be? There was venom and the antivenin potions to consider, too, and lingering effects both might have.

"It wasn't exactly a date. I met them at the restaurant. It was nice to have dinner conversation that wasn't monopolized by talk of quidditch. Or the war, which is a common subject people seem to think I want to discuss. Thank you for asking." She sensed by his tone, he was not being kind or congenial with his question, but she decided to ignore that.

"No immediate plans on moving to France?"

Was he joking? Or was he, dare she hope, concerned she would just up and leave?

"Um, well, not immediately. I'm sure you enjoyed having the evening all to yourself."

"It was unexpectedly nice," he said.

He wasn't joking, but his tone wasn't scathing either. Was she staying here too late? She didn't think so, because she didn't think he'd pull any punches in telling her to get out. Still, his comment meant he had enjoyed having her not there for the evening. Didn't it?

"Good. You know, if I ever overstay my welcome. It's generous of you to let me stay here in the evenings so that I can study in peace and everything. You didn't sign up for flatmates. I did."

"I think you know me well enough to know that I will inform you."

"Just making it clear. I know that you're being kind."

"I'm returning yours. I know you go above and beyond the requirements of your position as healer."

"As I've said, healing takes many forms, Severus."

He said nothing, probably thinking she was spouting a bunch of rubbish. However, what she said was true. What good would working with him exclusively on his exercises be if he didn't eat and rest? She wanted all of her patient healthy and healing.

All of this patient. She assumed she'd treat every patient the same way, with the same care and concern, but she truly wasn't sure if her heart being involved was affecting her behaviour.

"Harry asked about you."

"I'm sure that he did. Young man can't take a hint."

"I didn't tell him much," she said.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about the numerous letters from Harry (and no doubt others) waiting for him in his pile of unopened mail but she refrained. There were several piles by now. Today was not the day. Not with his mood apparently already foul. He wasn't a stupid man, so had to know there were countless letters for him. Not just from Harry either.

"I don't want you to think that I leave here and gossip about you."

"I know," he drawled.

"How?" There was no hesitation or doubt in his response. She was curious why he was so confident she didn't.

"I know you, and you wouldn't do that. You'd think it was unseemly to gossip about someone you essentially left to die."

"Severus," she said.

Oh God, was that what he thought? And here she was falling in love with him. He saw her as one of the people who wanted him dead.

He lifted his hand to cut her off.

"I know why you did what you did. Whether you knew my true role or not, I was not, nor should I have been, your immediate concern. If I'd been aware, and you knew the truth, I would have told you precisely that. Getting those memories to Harry was essential in defeating Tom. You ensured that happened. However, I know you likely feel guilt for that because you are a … good person, driven by the desire to help others. Look at your chosen profession. Therefore, you would not add to your guilt by talking about my doings behind my back."

Was she that transparent? Merlin. Did he know how she felt about him?

He was right. It had taken her a long time to come to the realization that what he just said was true. If he'd been able to tell her the truth, or if she knew the truth, he still would have told her to get the memories to Harry so that they could be viewed.

"I just think it's no one's business."

Silence.

Uncomfortable silence.

There hadn't been this type of quiet between them in weeks if not months.

"Did the gentleman, Artur you said, see you home?"

"No," she said with a slight frown, regarding him. She'd thought that was obvious since she indicated she'd met them at the restaurant. Maybe not. "He left before the three of us did from an appropriate apparition point. I assume because he realized Harry wanted to talk to me about him."

"Ah."

"He lives in France," she shrugged. "He seemed very nice and if he didn't live in France. Maybe."

"Understood. I'm surprised you aren't already married, truthfully."

"Mm. Why?"

She was curious to hear his opinion on that particular subject. She'd heard all sorts of theories and opinions.

"I assumed you and Weasley would have tied the knot."

"I came close. I said yes even, because he did ask me to marry him. It was right after the war and it seemed right to say yes. I thought about it, though, and realized he just wasn't what I wanted. As I've said. I want more from life than to be a mum. I think he thought proposing would give him the right to stop me. I don't know who is what I want," liar "but it's not him. Actually, I think his mum may have played a role in it."

"Molly? I can't imagine what she could have done," he said.

She recognized sarcasm when she heard it. Ah, yes, she could see Molly Weasley being very involved in all seven of her childrens' educational process. And, likely, Severus Snape had gotten a tonguelashing or two, hearing how unfair he was to Gryffindors.

"Yes, well. My parents are gone. Not deceased, but I altered their memories and sent them to Australia before what would have been our seventh year. To this point, I haven't been able to reverse what I did. Anyway, she seemed to take it upon herself to be my mum, and she's just not."

He scoffed. "She wouldn't know what to do with someone like you."

Was he insulting her? How dare he! She didn't have to cook and clean for him. That was exactly what Ronald wanted her to do for him, and here she was doing it for him! For free essentially. True, she was able to negotiate a more than fair wage for taking on the task of caring for this wizard that no one else wanted. Every week she stayed with him she got a bonus. Her boss obviously had no idea what a determined Hermione Granger could do or put up with.

"What does that mean?"

He shook his head. "It wasn't an insult, Hermione, I assure you. It was just a factual statement with no ulterior meaning."

She bit at her lower lip then and sighed. She supposed he could be telling the truth.

"Anyway, we were unofficially engaged for about six months. I could never set a date. I could never commit to announcing it. I didn't feel comfortable wearing the ring he'd given me. I can't tell you how many times I ‘forgot' it at home. I guess that was my first clue. I kept hedging on committing to anything."

"Are you still involved?"

"Romantically?"

"Well, obviously I surmise not or his brother in-law wouldn't be setting you up on dates with his sister accompanying you."

"Touche."

"Ah, practicing your French already."

"Oui oui." She gave a soft laugh. "To your question. Yes, we're fine I suppose. He's seeing someone I don't know well. No one does for that matter, he met her while visiting France ironically enough. He was traveling with Bill and Fleur if you can believe that. She's Polish, which is just weird. I mean, not that she's Polish, but no one seems to know why she happened to be in France when they met. Maybe that's why Harry thought I'd like Artur now that I think about it. Anyway, we're friendly but something shifted." She shrugged. "Harry, Ginny, and I are okay."

"Of course you are."

"You know,  you are so flippant sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"Why ask the question if you didn't want to truly hear my response?"

He huffed, pushing his plate away. "I wasn't being flippant. It's very clear it would take an apocalyptic event to separate the two of you, you and Harry I mean. As we survived one of those, more or less, and your friendship was intact at the end of it, that would lead me to believe you are fine."

"Oh," she said, unsure whether he was being sincere. It was so hard to tell with him most of the time. "Thank you."

"Your friendship with Mr. Weasley is different. It was based on … feelings and emotions. Attraction."

"Right." She knew that, even though they'd never gotten much past the kissing phase of things, it was very different from her relationship with Harry.

"Though what you saw in …"

"That's enough! He helped save the world, too, so stop. I don't know why you make fun of him so much. Lily had red hair. I presume she had freckles, too."

If looks could kill. And if anyone could kill someone with just a look, it was probably this man. Well, she was lucky he didn't truly want her dead.

"Do not speak of her! I am an adult with far more experience than you Healer Granger, and can like and dislike who I please without your permission or acceptance."

"You're right, but you do her no service wasting away here in your childhood home, Severus."

"You may address me by…"

"Do not! Do not say what you were about to say as if we have not forged some sort of friendship the past six months." She pointed her finger at his chest. "You do nothing, Severus. You barely even read. You think I don't notice how much your bookmark has moved from when I leave in the evening and get here in the morning. Is that what Lily would want you to do? To barely exist? You are so brilliant. It breaks a piece of my heart, forget my heart - my soul! -  knowing that you're holed up here like a recloose. Forget my heart and soul, it hurts a piece of my mind because there aren't many minds I've come across who I felt rivaled mine. Lily would not want this!"

"You do not know her."

"You're right, I don't, but I know Harry. Harry is a piece of her. A part of her. She would not like seeing you like this."

He stood then, slamming his hands on the table top. He gripped the sides of it then tightly. So tightly, his knuckles were turning white. "You know nothing about her, or me. A few months in my employ as my nurse does not give you insight into my mind."

"I know that you are holding onto a love you had for a girl, Severus. A girl. You all were sixteen years old when you had your falling out. You don't know what might have happened. Maybe she would have realized she didn't like James. You drove her away, though, with your quick to rise temper and hurtful words. And then you took the Dark Mark. You did that. You loved her so much that you essentially joined a cult run by a man who wanted to destroy people like her. And like me. You devoted nearly twenty years to avenging her death. You did it! You succeeded. He's dead. She is still dead, though, at the end of all of it. She loved James and Harry does not have his parents back. You need to let it go. How is that healthy, Severus?"

"Get out." He didn't yell. He didn't scream. His voice was so quiet that it was scary.

She sighed heavily and stood then, gathering her purse and walked to the door. It tore her up, knowing that this was likely the last time she'd talk to or see this man. The bonuses were nice, it gave her enough money she'd hoped to be able to get her own flat. That wasn't what she'd miss though.

She'd fallen in love with him, and it crushed her that she was the reason she'd never see him again.

"I'll go, but just one more thing. Since I started this I'm going to say it. You did not kill her, Severus. If you hadn't told him the prophecy, it's likely Neville's parents would be dead, too. Not that they're much better the way they are, but at least there's a thread of hope for them that maybe someone will figure out a way to reverse that."

She took a deep breath. He was glaring at her, but hadn't hexed her yet.

"Maybe you , Severus Snape, could apply that incredible brain of yours and the knowledge gained from your personal experiences in dealing with that curse to attempt to cure them. Maybe you could help me get my parents' memories back. You have a choice in how your story is told. You stay here because you don't want to be seen or gossiped about. That's why you went through so many healers before me. You didn't trust them not to run to Skeeter or whoever and tell them anything and everything. I don't know what I did to earn your trust, but I'm grateful that I did. The thing is, though. People are going to fill in the blanks with whatever they want. You're not giving them anything different than what they have been told based on twenty year old memories, and the word of a dead man who I'm not sure I entirely trust nor think he was the saint everyone seems to want to idolize him as."

Merlin, was she really saying all of this? She'd stop to pinch herself to ensure she wasn't dreaming, but couldn't afford that.

"You could be the pathetic, bullied boy who held onto an adolescent love for another man's wife for nearly two decades after their deaths. That's what they see. You know it, and I think you're ashamed of it, or you wouldn't be hiding. And that is what you're doing here. Hiding. Or you could be the wizard who found his footing after a severely wrong turn, worked hard to right that wrong, helped to save the world from destruction because his friend was a victim of the war, and possibly cure people like the Longbottoms. If it were me, I know which version of the story I'd want to be told about me. You're not that different from me I've come to find. A part of me thinks that you liked to tell me that I was as insufferable as I was because you saw a bit of yourself in me. I know I see it."

She clutched her purse tighter. She was done. She had nothing more to say. Had he heard her, though?

"I'll hold off telling them you need a new healer for now. I think we are making progress, but I understand if you don't want me here any longer. If I don't hear from you in two days' time, I'll let them know you released me, too. You have enough food to last you through then, and you can do most of the exercises I've shown you independently so that you don't lose the progress we've made."

She opened the door then and paused in the doorway. She was going to miss this place. It wasn't the nicest home, but she'd made a friend here. They'd made memories here.

"And just for the record, Severus, everything I just said. I said it because I care, because I believe in you, believe deep down that you are a good person. I consider you a friend, and I would have said this to Harry or Ron if I thought they needed to hear it. I didn't say it to be mean or spiteful. I know Lily is a sore subject for you, but you have to know this is not what she would want. And just know, I love you. You can ridicule me for saying so to your heart's content after I leave. My leaving today won't change that, though. I haven't said it. I don't want to say it today, but you need to know that you are someone who is lovable. You are worthy of love."

She left then, closing the door behind her. She took a deep breath once she was in his backyard.

Here she pinched herself to ensure she was really awake. Not the best way to go about it, but she knew ultimately he needed to hear those things. She truly believed that. No one would say it, and she wouldn't have unless he'd provoked her as he had.

Intentionally?

She wondered.

She glanced back at his door, wondering if she'd gotten too … close to him, and that had bothered him. He didn't have many friends. Minerva told her that before his year as headmaster they were warm acquaintances at best. She'd had the impression as a student they were closer, but not so. Their conversations were about quidditch or something impersonal. She told Hermione some of the stories regarding Severus and his bullies. Honestly, Hermione had a hard time looking her former head of house in the eye after she finished. She knew times were different now, but surely no one could think it was acceptable to allow such treatment to occur.

And yet clearly they had.

And then acted as if they hadn't a clue what had happened. Or why!

That it had led them all to where they were today.

She apparated to her flat, grateful no one was home when she got there. She went straight to her room, took out her muggle earphones and portable CD player. Ensuring a CD was in it, she didn't care which one, she laid down on her bed to go over in her mind exactly what she'd just done.

Was she going to get sacked?

Surely not.

Surely he wouldn't tell anyone what all she'd said, because even if he hated hearing it, he'd know there was at least a sliver of truth to it. (More than a sliver in her opinion, but he was a stubborn man, so would likely not come around to her way of thinking immediately. If ever.)

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com