A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 15: Reunion

"Sassafras." Hermione barked the password and the portrait swung open. She was more grateful than ever that she had a landscape, rather than a human figure, guarding her door.

She had arrived at Hogsmeade station much later than she had intended, and it was dark and snowy out. Not a nice sort of snowy, with the moonlight glistening off the flake-covered branches. No, it was a dreary, wet sort of snowy, where no matter what shoes you wore (hers were ugly rubber things that her mother had forced on her) your socks got wet.

She dumped her bags in the floor, stripped off her cloak and threw it on top, and then took a seat in the blue chair to remove her (ugly) boots and (drippy) socks.

Leaning back, she jabbed her wand at the hearth. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the flames began to warm her toes, and it was only then that she heard a plaintive "meow" coming into the room.

"There you are. I'm finally home." Home.

Crookshanks looked her over for a minute, decided it was safe, and jumped into her lap, fussing a bit.

As she stroked her cat in greeting, she said to him, "All I want is to get in bed and stay there for a week. Do you know it? Will you stay in bed with me?"

Then it hit her.

Severus.

She didn't want to see him. Or rather, she wanted to see him desperately, if she could be sure that he wouldn't ask her about her trip. He wouldn't push her to talk if she didn't want to, bless him, but she knew he wouldn't quite be able to hide his concern.

"Damn."

Hermione cursed just because she could. She'd been on her best behavior for forty-eight hours now, having arrived at her parents' house in time for lunch on New Year's Day and staying two nights, rather than the one she had planned on. She'd only gotten away after her mother had fed her dinner, complaining that she looked too thin, and what did they feed her at Hogwarts, anyway?

At least New Year's Eve had been fun. She'd gone to Greg and Bill's for the day, topped off with a movie (When Harry Met Sally, timed so that the credits rolled just in time for midnight) and the accompanying drinks (more than her usual), and stayed the night on their sofa. But somewhere around two o'clock in the morning, just as they were all fading to sleep (it was a fold-out sofa, wide enough for three to squeeze into), Bill had dropped a bomb.

Greg had begun by noting, "You know, Hermione, we really do want to come and visit you sometime."

"Umm-hmm," she'd murmured, knowing this could certainly keep until morning.

Bill had then added, "Yeah, it's been so long since we've been to Hogwarts--since graduation. It might be nice to see some of our old professors."

Had she been more awake and less drunk, she would have heard the warning siren start to howl. As it was, she was unprepared for Bill's next sentence.

"Because, you know, we were talking about this the other day--we have a hard time reconciling the Snape we knew then with the Snape you know now. It'd be fun to see the two of you together."

"Damn," Hermione muttered, picking up her cat and heading to bed.

In the morning, Hermione stayed in bed as long as she could stand it, which made Crookshanks very happy. She realized that she hadn't slept in the same bed with her cat since Christmas Eve, after all…

Which brought her thoughts back to Severus. Sighing, she got out of bed. After a hot shower, she rang for some breakfast; while she wanted to see Severus this morning, she didn't want to face everybody else.

She had settled into the green chair with the mail from the past few days when there was a knock on her door.

"I see you made it back safely," Severus quipped as soon as she opened the portrait. He didn't look happy; he didn't look mad either. She motioned for him to come in.

"I'm sorry. I should have let you know last night that I was back. I didn't…"

"I'm not scolding, Miss Granger," he said, teasing her. "That is, not exactly."

Looking into his eyes, she had no idea why she hadn't gone straight to his arms the night before. She dove into them now, holding on as if for dear life and feeling more relief than she would have thought was warranted before she'd opened the door.

"Your cat is staring at me," Snape noted dryly as she sat down opposite him. "I knew he didn't like me, but that glare is really off-putting. And yes, I recognize the irony in that."

She looked at him to find him glaring at her, apparently to make his point, but she only giggled. "He does that with everybody. He stared and sniffed at Remus for a full half-hour before he agreed…wait…how do you know Crookshanks doesn't like you? You've never met him."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "I most certainly have met him. He was a wretched addition to an already wretched night. Surely you remember?"

He waited patiently, and then it dawned on her.

"Oh…oh Gods, Severus, I am sorry about that. I completely forgot that he was there…but…and your head…"

"I assure you that my head has quite recovered by now," he said, grumpily sipping from his cup.

Hermione stifled a giggle. She knew that Severus had been mortified to find out that he had been wrong about Wormtail, and still didn't like to talk about his error--Sirius, of course, made a sport of throwing it in his face--but the fact that he would joke about it with her made her smile. As did the memory of his head bouncing against the ceiling, though she knew better than to say so.

"At least that thought has put a smile on your face. Are you going to tell me about your holidays, or is this one of those subjects we'll put off as long as possible until we have a huge row about it?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "I don't believe that we ever put off subjects until they cause a row. The you of we, maybe, but the me of we…"

"Oh, do let's agree that I was joking before your grammar becomes any more atrocious."

She knew that he was trying to tease her back into normalcy, and part of her wished that he'd just take her to bed to achieve the same effect. But she knew that he wasn't going to let her off the hook.

"It wasn't bad," she started. "It was lovely to see Hazel--I had lunch with her--and then I spent the night with the guys. Aside from the hangover, it was great fun." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not criticizing your methods of celebrating the holiday; I'm only amazed the three of you were so far gone that no one thought to have something on hand to avoid the inevitable consequences."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I made it to my parents' house just in time for mum's luncheon party--that was an ordeal, of course, since most of her friends don't know what I actually do for a living and I have to keep the story straight. Apparently mum's added in a boyfriend. He's an accountant."

Snape snorted.

"Then, of course, mum was in high gear all night, and I didn't have time to talk with her. I spent the evening with Dad--I think he knew that I had some news, something I wanted to talk about, but I didn't say anything. I went to bed early. The next morning mum had a meeting to go to--her women's charity circle or some such thing--and Dad and I had the morning to ourselves. He asked me if anything was wrong, and I told him that I had something to tell him and mum, but I wasn't sure if they'd be happy about it…"

"Hermione, is there something wrong? You've seemed…anxious, ever since you arrived."

"Nothing's wrong, Daddy…I promise," Hermione assured him, seeing the skeptical look on his face. "In fact, everything feels right…for the first time. I'm just not sure what you're going to think about it. I know mum won't like it."

"Maybe you'd better tell me what it is?"

"I…I'm seeing someone."

"A wizard someone, I assume?" Hermione nodded, and her father continued, "Well, yes, your mum will be disappointed at that, but…I'm assuming there's more to it?"

"He's…he's a professor. He was my professor."

"Oh? So…he's older…."

"Yes. But Dad…it's Severus Snape." There was silence. Hermione knew that her Dad wouldn't have forgotten all the stories she'd told him over the years; she hoped he would also remember how her stories had changed for the better when she started working on her honors project--remember that Snape had helped her with her publishing. She hadn't told her parents everything--only the bare bones about the war with Voldemort, the ongoing threat before that, and nothing about the current troubles with renegade Death Eaters. What they knew was enough of an obstacle. She didn't need to add any more.

"Oh. I see. He wasn't…a favorite of yours at school, was he?" Hermione shook her head. "But you seemed to work well with him later on?" She nodded. Her father sighed. "Well, little one, I can't say that he would be my first choice, and I can't tell you that I don't have my doubts." He paused. "It's hard being so far removed from your daughter's life…. Will I ever have a chance to meet this man of yours?"

"Of course, Daddy."

"Well, then. I trust you, Hermione, though I still worry. It's my prerogative, you know." A pause; a searching gaze. "Does he make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes."

"And you love him."

It was not a question; Hermione knew her father had always been able to read everything she was feeling from the look on her face.

"I love him, Daddy."

"Then that's that. Your mother certainly won't be happy, and you might as well let her rant about it for a while. She'll feel better, even if you and I don't."

"And believe me, mum ranted," Hermione groaned.

Snape narrowed his eyes. He had never met Hermione's parents, but knew that she had worried over their reaction--her mother's reaction in particular. It was difficult thinking of her as somebody's child. She seemed independent and confident, and at the same time still dependent, to some extent, on her parents' opinions--even when she dismissed them--and on their support. (The thought crossed his mind that she related to him in much the same way.) They still mattered, and he forced himself not to comment, waiting for her to continue.

She looked at him after a moment, and said, "I wish she'd just thrown a fit. Instead, she just pursed her lips, went about cleaning everything in sight, and made snide comments every few minutes. She covered everything: the fact that my choice in jobs had limited my choice in men; her conviction that I would choose an older man, and that I was choosing this man just to spite her…or Ron, or Harry, she couldn't decide who; and her certain knowledge that I would leave her house at some point and never, ever come back. I stayed a second night just so she'd have time to get it all in, so we could at least have a civil good-bye."

She stopped, gazed at the fire. Severus offered, "I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled weakly. "At least she's not coming for a visit." At his quizzical look, she explained, "Greg and Bill are planning on it. They've taken a notion to see us together."

Severus sighed.

"Do you suppose he's mad at me for keeping you away from him all those nights?" Snape eyed Crookshanks, who had not moved throughout Hermione's narrative. He was still seated in the doorway, his gaze never leaving the man who had invaded the green chair.

"I can't tell," she said, distracted by her own thoughts. "He hasn't even sniffed you yet."

Severus and the cat stared at each other for a few minutes while Hermione was lost in thought. Recovering herself, she looked at them both, and then addressed the cat. "Crookshanks, for the Gods' sakes, just go see about him and get it over with."

Crookshanks looked at his person, then back to Snape. Giving a grand stretch--apparently to show off his claws--he sauntered over to Snape's chair and gave the bottom edge of his robes a sniff.

Proving that a cat can do a double take, Crookshanks sniffed again, then carefully--as if suspecting that his nose deceived him--moved to Snape's shoes, and then raised up on his hind legs to sniff at Snape's hand, resting on the arm of the chair. He sat for a moment, regarding their guest, and then leaped nimbly into Severus's lap, kneaded his robes for a minute, and, with another sniff, settled in for a nap, purring loudly.

Hermione was stunned, and Severus's eyebrow was threatening to hit the ceiling. She looked from her cat to her partner, and her eyes went wide.

"My best guess, love, is that you bring my scent home with you…" Severus trailed off as Hermione blushed crimson and moved to make more tea.

They moved to the dungeons for the afternoon and evening, working in amicable silence for most of the time. It took Hermione until dinnertime to realize that there was something he hadn't told her yet. Neither one of them had suggested going to the Great Hall for lunch or dinner, and they took a break when several platters of food arrived on the desk in Severus's office.

"I heard from…my ally," Snape explained when she asked him if he had any news. By "ally," he meant the man with whom he worked most closely. "Apparently one of our other…colleagues…has arranged a meeting with a new contact, and asked him to go along."

"And you're not sure about the meeting?"

"I'm not sure about the meeting, the new contact…or our colleague…" Severus tapered off, and Hermione knew that he'd say more when he was ready. She had to clench her jaw closed, though, to keep from asking one of the myriad of questions she found at the tip of her tongue.

The next morning, Hermione shifted closer to the warmth of Severus. For a moment, she expected her mother to storm into the room and demand to know why there was a man in her bed. She smiled to herself, and reached up to pet the flannel-covered arm that was draped over her.

On their third night together, Hermione had announced that she couldn't keep up the pretense anymore, and had wrapped herself in Severus's dressing gown and returned to her room through the fireplace, leaving a stunned Severus in the bed alone. She'd come back almost immediately, clad in a long flannel nightshirt (she'd chosen the plaid over the penguins) and carrying with her a thick chenille robe (navy) and a pair of fluffy socks (grey). Severus had laughed out loud before going to the dresser to retrieve his own grey nightshirt.

She heard his breathing change, but before she could say anything, he muttered in her ear, "You've got to be kidding me."

She looked over her shoulder at him, and saw Crookshanks perched on Severus's hip like a leonine Sphinx.

"I'd rather he hated me, if this is what acceptance gets me," he growled softly, and Hermione refrained from pointing out that he still hadn't moved the cat.

A/N: I don't know for certain where the "you of me" and "me of we" bit comes from, but I believe that I stole it from Moonlighting. (If not there, it's from Remington Steele. Perhaps you see how I could confuse the two….) I should note that The Coachwhip convinced me (if I needed convincing) that Snape and Crookshanks needed some scenes together. Finally, while my version of Mrs. Granger echoes that found in several fics, The Coachwhip serves as the clearest reference point.

On to Chapter 16