The Easter holidays were over. He was not surprised at all when at the end of the first day of classes being back Hermione came to his lab. He really needed to not think of her as Hermione, but it was very difficult to do that now.

"Hello, Sir," she said.

"How were your holidays, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"It was okay. I was ready to come back, though. Sometimes I feel as if my parents have worse rules than Hogwarts does."

"Oh?"

She shrugged. He could tell there was nothing casual about her statement.

"Your parents disappointed you somehow then?"

"Kind of. It's just," she huffed, blowing on her bangs. He chuckled softly and she scowled at him. Obviously, she thought he was laughing at her. He wasn't. He was, recalling her older self perform the same thing when she was frustrated about something. She didn't so much NOW, but twenty-five years ago when he'd been a student. How hadn't he seen it before now?

Then again, why would he think to look for it!

"I think they forget that I'm nearly seventeen and have, more or less, been living away from them and their rules for over five years now."

"Mm," he said, nodding slightly.

"I went out on Friday night, and didn't get home until late. Bear in mind, I have no real curfew. My parents have always been pretty fair. They trust me. I've always been responsible. It's not like I come home at three in the morning all summer long or anything. For some reason, though, they flipped out, acting as if they were going to ground me for the entire summer or something! So three months from now they're going to ground me for one night? When I wasn't even doing anything wrong?"

He had to admit, that did seem a little unreasonable. His bar was set a little low compared to others. So low, in fact, after having Easter leftovers with the Prins', he'd returned to his home (not Hogwarts) and pondered all that Erik and seen and shown him that evening.

His first instinct was to be absolutely furious that they'd done nothing to help him. To ensure that he had a decent childhood. And yet, even if they'd somehow managed to get the authorities involved he couldn't say his childhood would have really been any better.

He was a loner by nature, even as a child. His mum tried getting him to do things with neighbour children. While they were playing with toy lorries, Severus preferred reading a book. Or before he could read, colouring.

So, would placing him in a different home really have affected much change? It could have, he supposed. It would have meant he was a very different person, though. Could Erik and Marie have intervened and ensured he was taken in by a magical family? Maybe. Their own? He doubted the headmaster would have allowed that, knowing as he did who Severus was to Erik.

He wouldn't have met Lily if he'd been removed from his parents care. And, hurt as he felt when he realized she truly did not like him romantically. Well, he valued the friendship they did have before Hogwarts. Now. The innocence of discovering their roots together because her parents didn't know and his mum wasn't passing information along. (He still had no idea why she'd sent him to Hogwarts to begin with.)

About two hours of fury that they'd - he - had left him in that home to grow up the way he had gave way to … understanding. His upbringing was what made him who he was. It was what made him cherish the stickpin Hermione had given him. He'd never told her so, of course, but he knew she was aware he wore it more than just occasionally.

Was it awful? There were moments that were, yes. However, those moments taught him how not to behave. He learned that one had to be prepared for anything. He could perform magic, and Hogwarts wasn't going anywhere, but what if something happened that he couldn't? Or that he couldn't teach potions any longer? He had a plan, he'd saved for a rainy day. Perhaps he was thriftier than others who hadn't grown up the way he had were, but he was prepared. For anything.

He knew what he didn't want to be. And, if he'd been removed from experiencing it. Wel, he wouldn't know that. He wouldn't know it was in his blood to be mean. Erik told him that it took until Philip for him to even entertain the notion of … disciplining their children. Severus could understand the … fear his older self must have experienced.

And yet, he'd never heard a bad word about the man. The … Severus Snape originally was cruel, bitter, hateful, and from what Erik showed him, hadn't enjoyed his role as professor at all. Loathed. Feared. Made fun of. From what he showed him, Hermione and her friends thought he was guilty of a multitude of things, and Severus couldn't say they had been wrong to draw the conclusions they had.

He wouldn't say he was as well liked as Erik Prins was with the students, but he didn't think any of them hated him. He thought he was a capable professor. He was patient, realizing that not everyone walked into his classroom with the knowledge he had on his first day.

Other than this witch, anyway. She hadn't had the practical experience, but she had read up on the subject.

This witch.

Her parents seemed like legitimately decent people. He'd seen them once, maybe at the platform in London. He couldn't even remember when, probably her first or second year. And then a thought occurred to him.

"How late were you exactly, Miss Granger?"

She blushed then and he scowled, sensing somehow he might just side with her parents on this one. "It was four."

"In the morning?" he asked.

"Yes, but I wasn't doing anything wrong, Sir! We went to a club. Some friends from the neighbourhood. It was really not my thing but God, I just," she sighed. "I wanted a break from studying for OWLs. I made myself have fun. I got home smelling like smoke, and this guy I was dancing with spilled a drink on my jumper. I'm not seventeen until September, so I didn't want to risk getting caught casting a cleansing spell or anything to counteract the drink smell. It'd be just my luck that, in a club full of people, I'd be the only magical one and I'd get in trouble! So, they just immediately assumed I was up to no good. As if I've ever given them any reason to think I would do that kind of thing."

No. He'd never gotten the impression she drank or smoked.

"I didn't realize you like dancing," he said. Her appearance at the Yule Ball perhaps said otherwise, but he hadn't gotten the impression that was a common experience or expectation for her.

She shrugged, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Not normally, but I knew I'd come back and be busy with OWL preparations. Well, and then in the summer I'll have to start preparing for the NEWTs."

"You know, Granger. You are prepared enough. I'd say that you could cut back somewhat over the summer holidays. You have all of next year, and the following summer, to worry about your NEWTs. Enjoy yourself."

"Why?"

He scoffed. "Why?" Good question. Why was he advising his best student this way? "Because you have the rest of your life to be an adult and work."

"Yes, but, what would I do?"

"I'm sure you could find something."

"I don't know."

They were quiet for a while as she went to what had become her station over the years. He knew now that it had been Marie's as well. Was that why he'd never used it? Had he somehow known that the lab table was meant for someone else?

Not just someone else.

Her.

"Sir?" she asked finally.

"Yes?"

"Did you have a nice holiday?"

"It was decent."

"Really?" she asked, regarding him. She was obviously curious. "I'm not sure I've ever heard you describe a break as more than tolerable. What did you do?"

"I did not go to a club dancing."

She snorted softly. "Why not?"

"I don't dance," he said.

"Never?"

"I know how. I do not get enjoyment out of it."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I do not enjoy … being on display in such a manner."

"Oh, I get that. I don't like it either. I just close my eyes and focus on the music. You know? Not that I do it very often."

"I spent some time with Erik and Marie, but otherwise I was here."

"Oh, how nice, I'm glad that you did that. Marie often tells me how she wishes you would join them."

"Does she?"

"Yes," she said with a slight shrug. "She says that you're like family, which I'm sure you know. And you don't talk much to your mum."

"Miss Granger," he said, cautiously.

"Just stating my observations. It's better than sitting in this castle all break, Sir! That's why I went out with my friends. I don't get to do that often, you know? I'm not comfortable doing it, but like you said, I have the rest of my life to be an adult. So a night of dancing seemed fine when I know I'm going to be busy the next year or so."

"Valid. And it was … acceptable sharing Easter dinner leftovers with them."

"It's a lovely home, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Have you seen all of the work Marie has done outside? She says they rarely have to buy food. I imagine she probably does for her big Christmas dinners and stuff. And that riding trail they have that I was able to go for a ride on Clover with. It's beautiful."

"Granger, you are rambling."

"Sorry, Sir," she said with a pout. "What are we working on this evening?"

"You are actually here to work and not talk my ear off then?"

"I am."

"I was beginning to wonder. Would you like to begin the process of brewing polyjuice potion then?"

His heart stopped beating for a moment at the positively joyous look in her eyes. Her cheeks even got a bit flushed. He wasn't sure he'd ever been on the receiving end of such a response from a witch before.

At least not positively evoked.

"Oh, but that's NEWT…"

"You are capable, Granger. I am confident in that. My next order for the DMLE is coming up, so I was set to begin it anyway. So, get to it then."

"Will I be able to take it when it's finished? I've always been curious as to what it feels like. I mean, I can read all of the texts in the world, but it won't tell me how it truly feels."

Oh, yes. That was precisely what he'd hoped to hear from her. Maybe not tonight, but eventually as they got further along in the process of making the potion.

"And now you are thinking as a potioner, Granger, and not someone who thinks books have all of the facts there are on a subject."

"Thank you, Sir."

"If you wish to, we can do that. In a controlled environment, when you have no commitments."

"Oh right."

"Well, get on with it then. You know where everything is by now."

"Yes, Sir."

"And Miss Granger, this is between us, yes?"

"I have never told anyone what we brew. I assume they all think I scrub cauldrons for you."

He knew this to be true, as far as her not telling anyone what they brewed or worked on. It was one of the reasons he'd allowed … this association … to continue. She'd earned his trust.

"And they think you willingly do this?"

She shrugged. "Well, Draco, Harry, and Steve assume that I'm doing something other than that." He tried not to let it bother him that she called Stephen Prins Steve. No one called him Steve, as far as he knew. Except Hermione. "They know I wouldn't keep coming here for years just for that. They just don't know what we brew. I realize not everything we brew, or I help you brew is for someone specific, but I imagine some are and it's no one's business."

Silence for a while as he worked on his own things. He did look every once in a while, checking to be sure she was doing what she needed to for tonight to prepare.

His mind returned to her comments about the Prins home. Marie's efforts with regard to it, inside and out. Not what he was accustomed to. His mum did the best she could with what she had access to. As a teenager, he'd hated her and been ashamed. As an adult, he could see she really had tried .

"You would like that type of home, Miss Granger?" he asked much later.

"I'm sorry?"

"You've commented about the Prins' home. Is that what you aspire to?"

"Oh, well, not really. I mean I suppose it would be nice. Really, though, I just admire how self-sustaining they are. They have compost piles and everything. I mean, would I want a huge farm with hundreds of head of cattle? No, but would it be nice to grow my own tomatoes and green beans? Sure. I mean, they have fruit and nuts, and it's just truly amazing. The kids have planted flowers around the property, adding their own touch to the home. You'd think when the Depression ended that she'd say ‘I have had enough of this'. She didn't, though, from the sounds of it."

"She thought it was important that her children, and their children, know where things come from," he said. "They also had eight and nine mouths to feed, in addition to their own, during the second World War. I assume they weren't certain another economic downturn wouldn't happen, and wanted to be prepared. Just in case."

Of course they did know another depression wouldn't happen, but they both seemed to truly like the work that went into their home. And no depression didn't mean that there weren't economic ups and downs.

"Yes, so yes, I guess I would like that type of home, where things aren't taken for granted. You probably look at me and think I don't come from that type of home. My parents are good to me, but it was because they tried for so long to have me. You know? So I think they indulged me. I know they work hard, though, and I've tried to never take advantage of them."

"Except when staying out until four in the morning."

"Evidently, yes, except then."

"So, a home with your gardening needs taken into account would be sufficient?"

She regarded him oddly. He supposed it was an odd question. However, if she had grandiose expectations of things he would not achieve in this lifetime. Well, he needed to know that now. Didn't he?

"Oh, well, yes, of course. Times are different now, too, aren't they? I mean, did you know she still gets up at or before sunrise every day to tend to the livestock she has? And then comes here and works all day. I don't know how she does it, but obviously she must not mind. I don't know that I endeavour to be that busy for all of my life."

"Only a portion of it?"

She gave a soft laugh. "Well, I don't want to be bored either."

"Of course not. Are you still thinking of the Department of Mysteries?" It'd been a while since they'd talked about it.

"I am, but I'd have to get a job somewhere else first, wouldn't I?"

"Why?"

"Well, I don't think they hire people for that department fresh out of Hogwarts."

"You are not people , you are Hermione Granger, and did you or did you not partake in Christmas dinner with the Minister for Magic just a few months ago."

"Oh, well, yes, but he was there as Thomas Prins."

"And yet, he is a connection, Hermione. You are friendly with his parents, who I'm sure would speak to your dedication and intelligence. You are practically best friends with one of his nephews, Stephen. Use the tools that you have, and make an attempt. Don't just assume you won't be given a chance. You also have me to vouch for your abilities, as well as every other professor who's taught you here."

"Thank you, Sir," she said, and he noticed she was blushing. Because of what he'd said. He felt … pride in that.

"While we are waiting for the polyjuice potion ingredients to be ready, we will brew amortentia. I supply it to them, the Ministry I mean. It is used quite frequently in the department you mentioned being interested in, from my understanding at any rate. You can then add to your CV that you have familiarity with the potion's effects, as well as the brewing process."

"Oh, thank you, Sir. That is very kind."

"I just want to make sure you don't come back here, Miss Granger."

"I liked it better when you called me Hermione a moment ago, but I will try to refrain from coming back."

Had he? He hadn't even noticed.

"Of course if you ever found yourself with free time, and are feeling nostalgic for assisting me, your help has been tolerable."

"Mm," she said, shaking her head slightly, as if she knew that wasn't what he meant. "That almost sounded like an invitation to come back."

"I would not feel put out if that were to happen," he said and then went back to work.

He felt her looking at him. He knew she was trying to puzzle him out, and he very purposely avoided looking at her. Even if it meant reading the same essay five times before he processed anything that it said.

She knew it, too, but mercifully said nothing further, until it was time for her to return to her dormitory for the night.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com