A Matter of Honor
by Amy McWilliams (McAmy)

Book 3: Love and Honor

Chapter 24: In Your Easter Bonnet

The next several weeks were not happy ones. The Ministry made a show of Draco Malfoy's trial, it being their first chance to bring a "Rogue Death Eater" to justice. They--and the press--conveniently forgot the fact that Draco had never actually been a Death Eater. On top of everything, Harry Potter, Auror Extraordinaire, was given credit for the arrest. Hermione couldn't tell who was more livid, Snape or Harry.

Dumbledore and Snape were often gone to London, working with lawyers, answering questions, filing reports. Dumbledore insisted that the trial not be delayed for the sake of the Ministry's media blitz, and Snape insisted on testifying to the entire story of the search for Lucius Malfoy and Draco's part in the events.

In the end, Draco was sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Three more than Snape and Dumbledore had hoped for, and five less than the Ministry wanted.

Every time he came back from London, invariably after midnight, Severus sat silently with a drink before crawling into bed for another night of fitful sleep. He was withdrawn, irritable, and distracted. He had insisted, at one point, that Hermione sleep in her own room so that he wouldn't keep her awake--there was no sense, he said, in both of them losing sleep. She hadn't argued. But about four in the morning, he had joined her in her bed, and that became the pattern for over a week.

His students were more afraid of Snape than ever. Even Jeremy Crump, the Slytherin Head Boy, avoided him. He once stopped Hermione in the hallway outside the Potions classroom to ask her to give Snape a message from Madam Pomfrey. Apparently he hadn't wanted to take the chance of delivering it himself.

So on the one hand, it was a good thing that Easter Break had arrived. On the other…

"Hermione, love! We're here! We're finally here!" Bill impatiently waited for Greg to release her from a huge bear hug. "My turn, my turn! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"We've missed you," Greg smiled, "in case you couldn't tell."

"I've missed you too," Hermione answered, a huge grin on her face.

"Gods, we've been reading all about Draco Malfoy in the paper," Bill said. "Poor guy. Can you imagine?"

"It's been a nightmare," Hermione agreed. "The students can't stop talking about it, all of the professors are angry at the Ministry…"

"And your professor can't be too happy these days," Greg observed.

"No, he's not."

"Well, we promise to stay out of his way while we're here," Bill said, matter-of-factly. "No rude questions, no teasing…"

"Bill…" Greg chided.

"I'm just saying, we'll be nice."

As Bill levitated the bags, Greg rolled his eyes at Hermione. "Some things never change."

"Thank the Gods," she smiled.

"You have your choice," Hermione said, as they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. "You can either have the guest room, or you can stay in my room."

"Oh, I see…" Bill drawled, his eyes lighting up.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said you were going to be nice."

"Nice to Snape, I said. You're another matter altogether. But we'll take your room, because it will be more conducive to late-night slumber parties. Unless our dear Professor Snape would miss you."

Hermione shot him a look.

"Or maybe he'd like to join us? What?" This last was addressed to Greg, who had placed a firm hand on the back of his neck.

With everything unpacked, Greg and Hermione sunk into chairs in front of the fire, while Bill lay in the floor and played with Crookshanks. They had a couple of hours before dinner, at which time they were going to join Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore in the Headmaster's private dining room.

"If I had known we'd get the royal treatment, I'd have come back to visit earlier," Greg noted.

"Well, it helps that you're friends with a faculty member," Hermione teased.

"I'll say," Bill added.

Greg smiled. "You know, it's really not strange at all that you're here. You really seem at home. Good for you."

"Thank you. You know, I do feel at home here. It was intimidating, when I first came back. Still is, for that matter. And Dumbledore calls me 'child,' from time to time. Though most of them manage 'Professor Granger' instead of 'Miss Granger' when we're working. Which still sounds strange."

"And what does Professor Snape call you?" Bill asked, batting his eyes.

"None of your business," Hermione said, batting her eyes back. Bill erupted in chuckles.

"Now, seriously, Hermione, we do want to hear about this thing you've got going with Professor Snape," Greg interjected. "Not the details, you know, just…I don't know, more than you've told us."

"I've told you plenty!" Hermione protested.

"Not enough," Bill said, "since we still aren't sure whether you're sleeping with him. I mean, letting us have your room is a good sign, but that could mean you're staying in McGonagall's spare room, after all."

"I'll be staying with Severus," Hermione said primly, "as I have every night, with the very occasional exception, since Christmas."

Greg gave Bill a serious look. "It's worse than we thought. Not only has she snogged the teacher, she's shagged him as well."

Severus had been sleeping more easily the past few nights, but Hermione was still careful not to disturb him when she came to bed.

At dinner, Greg and Bill had started talking about movies, and their old movie nights with Hermione at university, and Dumbledore had decided that, since he hadn't seen a movie in ages, they should have a Gryffindor movie night that very evening. McGonagall agreed, and Dumbledore conjured a working TV and DVD player ("Nice trick, that," Bill had said. "Indeed," twinkled Dumbledore.), along with a copy of their movie of choice: My Best Friend's Wedding.

Dumbledore was enchanted, and kept producing all manner of sweets and other snacks, and McGonagall (though she complained about all of the lying) cried a little at the end--along with Hermione, Greg, and Bill. Back in her rooms, Greg and Bill had sent Hermione through the fireplace with a repeat performance of "I Say A Little Prayer for You."

Despite her extra efforts, Severus rolled towards her as she tucked herself in.

"So you came back to me," he said, eyes closed but with a smile playing on his lips.

"I did, and you weren't supposed to wake up."

He drew her to him as he said, "Sorry. I missed you. I thought perhaps your guests were going to steal you away from me for the duration of their time here."

"You seem to be in a better mood. And no, they want to see you, as well." She tried not to giggle as he sighed.

"I am. Enough so that I can suggest dinner tomorrow. Your rooms, I think. I don't know that I could handle three giddy Gryffindors here at the same time. I'm not in that good a mood."

"Or we could go to Hogsmeade. You've been wanting to try that little restaurant that opened last month."

"That would be nice. And I can arrange for Mordred to bring me an important message so I have the option to escape gracefully…" She pinched him, hoping she'd at least come close to his nipple. "Ow!"

"It serves you right, for picking on a helpless, giddy Gryffindor."

"Mmm. Let's see if I can find some way to make it up to you…come here…"

His hands moved under the covers and she squealed.

"Like I said, giddy…" he murmured.

"This is so strange."

"What's so strange," Greg asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"It is strange that we are sleeping in a bed where…you know."

"Bill…"

"Well I'm serious. Do you think they've…done it…in this bed?"

"Bill, people have sex. It's a fact of life. We've been over this. Now go to sleep."

Bill gasped. "Oh. My. Gods. Do you think they're doing it right now?"

"If you don't shut up and go to sleep, they're the only ones who are going to be 'doing it' for some time to come."

"You're just no fun anymore," Bill said, pouting. Greg only sighed. "But I still love you."

"Good night, Bill."

"Good night."

The walk to Hogsmeade had been surprisingly pleasant, Hermione thought. Greg and Bill had wanted to hear the real story behind Draco Malfoy's arrest, and were appalled at the Ministry's actions. Bill had said "You're kidding!" so many times that Snape had finally replied, "Bill, do I look like I'm kidding?" Bill had been so flustered he'd missed the smiles exchanged by his three companions.

The restaurant purported to be Italian, though the fact that you could order anything from Yorkshire pudding to gnocchi weighed against that claim. The cook could indeed make pasta, it turned out, and they enjoyed a delightful meal. The wine was excellent, and Severus was pleased when they actually had the vintage he asked for.

The talk turned to Hogwarts, and stories of teaching and students, and then back to tales from Gryffindor school days. Greg and Bill tried in vain to find a story about Hermione that Severus hadn't heard, and didn't succeed until the conversation had moved on and Bill mentioned, off-handedly, the time Hermione had stolen something out of Snape's office.

Encouraged by Snape's amused reaction, Bill noted, "And you know, of course, that she's been smitten with you for simply ages."

Silence for a moment, as Hermione blushed crimson, and then the corner of Snape's mouth turned up. "Indeed…" he drawled. Taking Hermione's hand, he said, "I would never have guessed." He kissed her fingers, then, releasing them, added, "You should have had your friends to visit sooner, my dear."

Bill put his hand over his heart and said, "That is the sweetest thing..."

Greg chuckled, Hermione tried to look irritated, and Snape raised his eyebrow to the ceiling.

On the way home, each couple walked arm in arm, and as they neared Hogwarts, Greg said, "Professor Snape?"

"Greg, at this point I think that you and Bill can call me Severus."

"Severus, then. I just wanted to say that, well, we've been waiting for some time for Hermione to find the man that deserves her. And--though I never thought I'd be saying this--I think we both agree that she has. We're happy for both of you, and wish you both the very best."

Severus paused for a minute, and Hermione could feel his arm tighten beneath her hand. Then he extended his hand, and for the second time in two months shook the hand of a Gryffindor. He shook Bill's as well, as he replied, "Thank you for saying so. And it has been…a pleasure to spend time with two of Hermione's closest friends. I hope you'll come back and visit us again."

As the four resumed their walk, Snape added, in a familiar tone, "Though if you tell anyone I said so, I will most certainly deny it."

Easter Break was a brief respite. The Daily Prophet was still running obnoxious stories, and one writer had blamed Snape for the fact that Lucius Malfoy was still not in custody, going so far as to suggest that he was covering for Lucius, to enable him to get away clean.

The students were restless--Spring Fever, Minerva always called it. And when a fifth-year Gryffindor was caught cheating in History of Magic, all of his coursework for the year was called into question, meaning his other teachers were brought into the review. Hermione felt for the poor boy, having to face down four grumpy Heads of House at the same time. And since she had him in Arithmancy, she had to go back through all of her paperwork as well.

Snape was no longer in a good mood.

He had snarled at Hermione one afternoon for setting up a trial in the main classroom. He needed the space to prepare for class, but there wasn't enough room in her usual workroom for either of them. She had snarled back, and they hadn't spoken until well after dinner, when both muttered apologies. They went to bed angry, only to wake in the middle of the night and make a more sincere attempt at reconciliation.

Another evening, as they were discussing the possibility of an additional workspace, separate from the classroom, Hermione was looking over her mail from that morning. She had a letter from her parents, and hadn't had time to read it until now.

He watched her read, saw her smile. "Good news?"

"Not news, really. Mom's been insanely busy with this upcoming conference. She's the chair of the organizational committee, and insists on keeping all of her appointments at the office as well. Not to mention her charity work. Dad says she's running herself ragged, but is happier than he's seen her in ages."

"She sounds like someone I know."

Hermione laughed. "I certainly did get my work ethic from my mother. Not that Dad doesn't work hard, too. He's just more laid back than mum. And less practical. So he reads his books, does his job--and the ironing and vacuuming every Saturday--while she's the one who runs the office, the house, and now the conference. He always jokes that he never sees his paycheck; it goes straight to her."

She read for another moment. "And mum says that…ha! I can't believe it."

"What?"

"Apparently Mrs. Weasley--she and mum started corresponding last summer--has sent along some of the Draco Malfoy clippings, and has told them all about what really happened. Mum cannot believe that anybody is suggesting that you would cover for that…let's see, what does she call him? 'Cretin.'"

Severus smiled, a little warily. Of course, the Grangers wouldn't understand the dynamics of the situation completely, but he was glad to hear Mrs. Granger wasn't thinking the worst of him.

"She adds that she wants us to come for dinner sometime, because since it's clear I've made up my mind, she'd better get used to it." She glanced at Severus.

"Well?" she said.

"I suppose we'll have to go," he said flatly. Her brow furrowed, and he added, "Don't tell me that you expected me to be excited about this."

"No…I just…"

"Haven't I proven that I can be presentable enough for your friends and family?"

"I didn't meant that at all, and you know it!"

His fingers came to the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. Gods. I'm so used to being a bastard I forget myself sometimes."

Anger turned to worry, and she crossed to where he stood at the mantelpiece.

"What is it?"

"I…can't even imagine what it's like for him. I never had to go to Azkaban."

Wordlessly, she embraced him, and felt some of the tension subside.

At breakfast the next morning, things seemed fairly normal. Snape was discussing the final Quidditch match of the season with Hooch and Flitwick, and Hermione and Remus were listening to Sprout and Pomfrey fight over the proper way to slice angel root, when using it in a cold compress. Apparently Sprout had visited the hospital wing that morning before breakfast and was appalled to see the mistreatment of the angel root she had worked so hard to cultivate.

The mail arrived towards the end of the meal, and Hermione was as delighted as always when the owls dropped a few things at her plate. Severus had some correspondence from Ars Alchemica, she noticed, and she had the usual things, plus a note from Ron and…an envelope she didn't recognize.

It was addressed to "Prof. Hermione Granger," in an unfamiliar handwriting. She tore it open, removed the note, and suddenly flung it to the table. She had recoiled from it so strongly that her chair scooted back against the flagstones, the sound drawing everyone's attention to her. She gripped Severus's arm as he asked, "What is it?"

He lifted the note, and read:

If this were a port-key, you'd be mine now.

L.M.

A/N: The chapter title comes from the song "Easter Parade."

On to Chapter 25