A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 18: Gossip

It was long enough. But not, Hermione thought, bad at all.

Deciding to forego any more scolding on the count of his not telling her where he was going, Hermione began with a few questions about the story he had told her the previous night.

"No, I do not think that Draco was the one to kill him," Severus answered. "I'm not sure what, exactly, Draco's point in arranging the meeting was. I don't know if he was hoping to turn one of us--or pretend that he had a change of heart himself, for some reason--or merely to threaten, or perhaps to convince the man to take a meeting with Lucius--and Lucius most certainly would have killed him…."

He paced a moment. "I think that our own colleague has to be the one who killed him, using the meeting with Draco as a cover, or…I don't know, perhaps he was unhappy with the way things were going…" He stopped and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know."

Hermione waited for a moment before quietly asking her next question. "Do you think Lucius even knew about the meeting?"

Severus turned to give her a surprising smile of amusement. "Are you sure you weren't meant to be Sorted into Slytherin, Miss Granger?" She couldn't repress a laugh at his use of her surname, and the sentiment. His face turned somber again. "That's exactly what I was wondering. Draco could have been up to something on his own, trying to impress his father. It's likely, since, as I told you before, Lucius has always kept his son out of the thick of things."

He sunk into a chair and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose in that now-familiar gesture. Hermione watched him for a moment, and decided that it was now or never…

"Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"While you were…gone yesterday," she had almost said "missing," but caught herself in time, "Dumbledore asked me what I knew about your…whereabouts."

Now she had his attention. He scowled, but said nothing. ("Probably waiting to see how loudly he should yell," she thought.)

She continued, refusing to drop her eyes. "I didn't tell him anything." ("Not that I knew where you were, anyway," she added to herself.) "But he already knew about the meeting. He must have found out about it shortly after you did."

Snape leaned forward in his chair, clearly caught between anger and confusion. "How…?"

"Black."

As he rose to pace again, Hermione continued. "Black had heard of the meeting, and while I was in Dumbledore's office, he came with the details. He knew almost as much as you did--or at least almost as much as you told me. Though I suspect he knew more than he wanted to say in front of me."

Hands on his hips, Severus stood gazing into the fire. "What, exactly, did he…no. I will take that up with Dumbledore. And then with Black."

He turned to glare at her, and she hurried to answer his probable question. "I didn't say anything--didn't admit to knowing anything about it. He wanted me to tell him what I knew so that he could go looking for you, but Dumbledore wouldn't let him drag me into it…"

He stopped her with a wave of his hand. "I believed you when you said so the first time. What I want to know is…why are you telling me this?"

"Why would I keep it from you?"

"You know very well what I mean."

She took a deep breath, allowing herself to drop her eyes for a moment. Then, fixing him with a look of her own, she said, "Because I want you to let us help you."

His eyes narrowed for a moment, but before he could say anything, she stood up and poured out her argument in a rush. "Look, you told me last night that you're left almost on your own now. Clearly your other allies are, if not questionable, either missing or of little use. You don't know what's going on with Draco, but if I know you, you're hoping that you can get him out of this mess somehow. Dumbledore is in no real danger from Lucius, if Lucius is working pretty much on his own, as it seems to me he must be, or he'd have done more damage by now. Meanwhile, though Black is certainly not your favorite person, it seems clear to me that his own sources of information are nearly, if not equally, as good as your own. And Remus and I…"

She stopped, trying desperately to read the expression on his face. Anger, frustration…but no disappointment, she thought, and…indecision?

She reached out to place a hand on his arm, and allowed herself to plead. "Please, Severus. Tell me you'll think about it. We want to help you. All of us."

An eyebrow raised. "You, especially?"

She smiled hesitantly. "Me, especially."

"I will…think…about it."

As she turned to sit back down, he muttered, "But I don't like it."

"No," she said, with a lifted eyebrow of her own, "I didn't expect that you would."

The topic was shelved for a bit, out of necessity, as school started up again. Hermione had spent much less time than she'd intended in preparing for her classes, what with her holiday travels and all the talk about things Severus didn't like. She still managed to be over-prepared, and when the bell rang at the end of her first lesson on Monday, she was astonished to find that she still had four pages of notes that she hadn't covered.

She flicked her wand at the right-hand chalkboard to ready it for her next class of third years, leaving the notes on the left for the same reason. Gathering her books, she headed for the Great Hall and lunch.

As she entered, Professor Sprout caught up to her. "Ah, Professor Granger. I hope the return to classes has found you well?"

"Well enough. And you?"

"Just fine, just fine. Oh, what a lovely outfit! That darkest of greens certainly suits you. And of course Professor Snape would approve of the color…"

Hermione was surprised by the remark, and Sprout had hurried to her chair before she could come up with a rejoinder.

Snape noticed the look on her face as she took her seat, and asked her if anything was the matter. The image of a head-table spat over beef stew sprang to mind, and she muttered, "Nothing. It's nothing." He wasn't convinced, but Hermione was thankful that he didn't press her. She decided that chatting with Remus would be a nice way to spend lunch. And at any rate, Madam Hooch appeared to have several things to talk over with Snape.

At the end of her afternoon class, Hermione was preparing for a trip to the library when she realized that one of her students was hovering at the office door. She looked up, and then warmly greeted the girl.

"Miss Fairfax, it's good to see you. I trust your holidays went well?"

The girl blushed a little, but smiled. She answered softly, "Yes, Professor. Quite well."

"Why don't you come in and have a seat? Tell me what I can do for you."

Having perched herself on the edge of a chair, the girl stared intently at the floor. "I…I am going to be in your Ancient Runes class on Thursday as well, Professor Granger, and I just wanted to tell you how happy I was that you'd be teaching it." Looking up, her large brown eyes gone even wider, she added, "I know that we'll be behind schedule, a little, since runes weren't offered last term, and I wondered…that is…" Her eyes fell to her lap. "I was hoping that you would allow me to do some extra work so that I could finish all of the usual first-year material. I…I'm very interested in the subject…"

The girl faltered, and Hermione recognized at once the similarity to herself, underneath the girl's hesitant demeanor. Evelyn Fairfax was already planning an honors project, most likely. Hermione squelched a chuckle and smiled kindly at the girl.

"Of course, Evelyn. I would be glad to work with you as much as possible, and to outline a course of extra work that would allow you to cover the material we'll have to pass over in class. Let me get some things organized, and we'll talk again. Perhaps Thursday? I have a class just after lunch, but we could meet later in the afternoon? Check in with me after class, and we'll find a time."

The girl was practically beaming. "Oh, yes, Professor Granger, I will. Thank you ever so much!"

After Evelyn had gone to her next class, Hermione headed to the library. Intent on her goal, she hadn't stopped to see which students were present, and was deep in the stacks, wading through some books on Runes before turning to the restricted section and the volume they needed for the lycanthropy work, before she noticed the hushed conversation.

Three or four voices, she thought, seated at a study table at the side of the room, directly on the other side of the shelves from her. She recognized one: Ruth Mitchell, a fourth-year Hufflepuff from her Arithmancy class. She guessed that the others were Hufflepuffs as well.

She had noticed them because they were talking about Snape--something about an incident that morning in Potions class. Now that she was no longer on the receiving end of his classroom manner, she found the students' impressions of him rather amusing.

"…and I thought it was fifty points from Ravenclaw for sure. You should have seen the look on Snape's face!"

"That's nothing. I heard that in the class before, he took five points from his own house because Arthur Prichard and his lot were talking through the lecture."

"Well, you know that the only thing Snape hates more than a Gryffindor is being ignored."

Giggles erupted at that witticism, certainly not original. Hermione smiled to herself. It was, after all, the truth.

The first voice began again. "You would think he'd be nicer now that…you know…"

"I thought that was just a rumor. You don't mean that it's true, do you?"

"I dunno. Ruth, you should know, you have her for class. Do you think she's actually…you know…" the voice dropped, almost inaudible, "dating Snape?"

Ruth's voice, then, for the first time, a little shaky. "I don't think it's any of our business. And I'm sure I wouldn't know."

"Gods, can you imagine?"

"I don't think I want to…"

"You don't think they…"

At the chorus of "Ewww"s that broke out, Hermione rounded the corner and stood quietly, waiting for them to notice her. Ruth was the first to see her, and gasped. The others turned, and looked sufficiently embarrassed that Hermione half-regretted putting a stop to their nonsense.

Donning her best professorial tone (one that would do Snape proud), she noted, "I would suggest that all of you get on with your studying before I am forced to take points from your house for this disruption. Or to tell Professor Snape about this…discussion."

They quickly looked down at their books. Ruth, however, shot a concerned look at her professor, and Hermione nodded slightly to reassure her. She returned to her studies as well, and Hermione to her stacks.

She knew, of course, that there were rumors. But she had never liked being the subject of gossip, and it took her several minutes to refocus her energies on the subject of Thursday's lesson.

It had not been a good day. Points from Slytherin in the morning (Arthur Prichard refused to learn what was good for him), and a Ravenclaw, of all people, exploding a cauldron in the middle of a lesson that should have posed no trouble at all. And he suspected the boy's error had been the result of a distraction of the female persuasion. There was no place for that in his classroom, especially when it managed to coat half the class in a (thankfully) weakened version of the Pepper-Up potion.

Gods, how he hated peppy students.

And now, instead of settling in to work, he had to see Poppy Pomfrey--again--about stores for the term. The woman worried too much. And he suspected that she had said something to Hermione just before lunch. Again. She and Sprout would insist on making other people's business their own.

As he rounded the corner onto the Hospital Wing, he heard voices. He slowed to listen out of habit; it was always good to know, whenever possible, what was going on in a room before you entered it. It wasn't that he could read minds, though few students would believe it. It was that he was observant.

This time he belatedly wished that his powers of observation hadn't served him so well. He came to a halt, his eyes wide, as he heard the voices more clearly.

"Well, you know that she was back from holiday at least a day before she showed up to table. They had to have been together. They always are, you know."

That was Pomfrey. And she must be talking to…

"I would never have imagined it." Sprout. Of course. "Even when they were working together her last year of school, I was amazed that they got on so well. But I would never have thought that she'd actually fall in love with him. Mind you, I think it's wonderful. But he can't be an easy man to get on with. Though I don't think he's half as terrible as some people say."

"No, no, of course not. And they are…well, rather perfect for each other. I sometimes wonder…how much of that time do you think they actually spend working?"

Whether it was the giggles, the thought of the two old biddies talking about his…sex life, or the horrid realization that they actually didn't think he was as bad as all that, Severus Snape couldn't stand to hear anymore. He came through the doorway in a flurry of robes, bearing down on the two of them with a malevolent look on his face.

"That is enough!" His voice rang out against the stone walls and the two women's faces went white with shock. "I have endured your continuous innuendo, your coy glances, and your insufferable tittering behind my back for longer than I had thought possible. I have done so for Professor Granger's sake. It appears, however, that my forbearance has only encouraged you to progress to in-depth speculation about my private life, and I tell you now that I will not stand for it any longer! I will not be made into your afternoon's entertainment, and I will not have you harassing Professor Granger any more with this foolishness!" His eyes narrowed then, and his voice dropped to a truly threatening near-whisper. "Do I make myself clear?"

As they nodded their acquiescence, he scowled at them and stalked from the room.

Back in the dungeon, he was still stalking when a sound at the door interrupted him. "Go away," he spat.

"Somebody's having a bad day," Hooch drawled from the doorway.

Too irritated to be surprised that the flying instructor had actually come to the dungeons for the first time in he didn't know how long, he repeated his injunction: "Go away."

Hooch crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "No, I don't think I will. Are you going to offer me a seat in your office, or should I say what I have to say here in the hallway, where anybody could hear?"

Snape sighed, and gestured to his office in resignation.

Once seated behind the closed door, Hooch eyed him narrowly before she began.

Snape assumed this was about Pomfrey, but he was willing to hear her out. Elizabeth Hooch was one of the few people he routinely tolerated. More than tolerated. They had fought tooth and nail in the past, and would again, no doubt, but he always made sure to keep her next to him at the head table. He appreciated her matter-of-factness, and respected her opinion on most subjects. Along with Dumbledore and McGonagall, she was one whose companionship he would be sorry to lose. She might not know it (then again, knowing her, she probably did), but Snape considered her a friend.

"Snape, I don't know what's going on between you and Hermione Granger, and I'm not asking. I assume, however, that it's more than work, and that it's good for both of you. It certainly appears that way."

Snape shifted in his seat, but said nothing.

"I heard about your performance in the Hospital Wing." Her yellow eyes flashed with amusement. "I daresay they had it coming. I can't tolerate that prattle myself, which is, of course, why Poppy shares all of her gossip with Sprout. Gods, there are days…"

She broke off at Snape's smirk. "But I'm getting off the subject. I came here to talk about you."

Snape was no longer smiling. "I thought I had made it perfectly clear that I do not wish to be the subject of anyone's discussion."

"Calm down, Snape. I told you, I'm not asking. I do, however, have a bit of advice." As he raised an eyebrow, she corrected herself. "Maybe two bits. You'll do me the courtesy of listening, and then you can ignore me or not, as you wish. It makes no difference to me."

Snape sighed. "Go on then, since there's apparently nothing I can do to stop you."

Hooch knew him well enough to know that he was curious, but she also knew better than to say so. "Right. You're not going to like this, but you have to realize that the reason the faculty chatter on about you and Granger so much is that they're happy for you. You have friends here, Snape, as much as you try to believe otherwise. They worry about you when you shut yourself in the dungeons, and when you're gone who knows where. They haven't forgotten all those times after your meetings with…"

Hooch cleared her throat, and Snape narrowed his eyes, amazed at the emotion in her voice. He, too, knew better than to mention it.

"They care about you, Snape, whether you want them to or not. And I agree, they have a damned annoying way of showing it. But they want you to know that they're happy for you. You know Miss Granger was everybody's favorite. It's good to see you both so happy. And you know, we can see that both of you are happy, no matter how hard you try to hide it."

Snape waved his hand. "You said that you had some advice?"

Hooch fixed him with her sulfurous gaze. It was amazing that McGonagall was the feline Animagus, really.

"You'll like this even less. But I know I'm right. Poppy and Sprout and the rest of them will never let you hear the end of this. But they'll settle down once they know for certain that something serious is going on, and that you and Granger are happy. Find a way to let them know all's well, and they'll take your relationship for granted. It won't be new anymore. And if you stop trying to pretend that there's nothing going on, the gossip won't be half as fun."

Snape was incredulous. "You have got to be kidding."

"I'm not saying you should make some grand gesture, or a public announcement, or, Gods forbid, start snogging at table. But mark my words. Once they know you're not dodging them, that you're not trying to hide, they'll back off."

Hooch rose to leave. "Right. Now, I'm off to watch over the Gryffindor team's practice session. Wood hurt his wrist over the break, practicing with his brother and cousins, and I've promised Poppy I'll keep an eye out."

She turned back at the door to add, "And don't think I don't know you'll share that little tidbit with the Slytherin team."

"Madam Hooch, sometimes I think you know me too well," Snape demurred. And they both knew that he wasn't only talking about Quidditch.

At dinner, Hermione thought that their side of the table was uncharacteristically quiet. Her conversation with Remus seemed to be the only one this side of Flitwick. She glanced at Severus out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed irritated. On her right, Sprout and Pomfrey were completely subdued. She looked back at Remus, who shrugged in amazement.

"Snape, did I tell you who we ran into in London over the break? Poppy, tell the story; you know I'll forget half of it." With that, Hooch brought their corner in line, and the conversation continued in a pleasant way for the rest of the meal.

Though she wasn't quite sure what was going on, Hermione knew all was well when, as they turned to their dessert, Madame Hooch caught her eye and gave her a wink.

On to Chapter 19