Mist and Vapors

A few days later, Severus stepped out on the hearth of Hannah's fireplace again. He had taken to Flooing instead of walking (which normally was his preferred method of getting around the castle; he had never much cared for the disorienting sensation and inherent messiness of Floo travel) to cut down on the possibility of being seen entering her quarters. The rumor mill, as Hannah had said, was grinding away quite nicely. Over the last few days, the news of what had happened in court had slowly traveled throughout the school.

With it had come the looks. Severus was used to them from the last time he had prominently featured in the Daily Prophet - but now the same types of glances were cast in Hannah's direction.

In the hall, he would hear snippets of conversations, conversations that immediately stopped as students became aware of his presence. The owls must have been busy - more than one student seemed to have relatives that had attended the trial.

"Yup, she's a Squib..."

"What was she doing at Snape's house, anyways?"

"He'd be in Azkaban..."

"You don't think...?"

At meals, they would look from him to her and back again while talking behind their hands. He was more than careful to not do anything to encourage the conclusions being drawn - what the students (and most of the staff members) could see was nothing more than a polite nod as they passed, maybe a courteous phrase exchanged here and there, the way he would with any other teacher. Right now, they were both in the fishbowl, closely watched. It would not do at all to encourage the gossips.

Hannah had been sitting on the sofa, her arms wrapped around her legs, her forehead resting on her knees. She looked up at him as the green flames died down.

"Hello, Severus," she said in a small voice.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Yeah." The tone of her voice was not at all convincing. He sat down on the sofa next to her.

"Your demeanor suggests otherwise."

With a tired sigh, she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm fine. Really, I am. It's just..." Her voice trailed off.

"Just what?"

"Your Slytherins are driving me batty." She pushed the words out in a rush. "Well, some of them, anyways. The Ravenclaws don't really care, the Hufflepuffs are sweetly sympathetic, and the Gryffindors think that it is all quite funny, but they'll make a joke and get on with the work. Whereas a good percentage of the Slytherins seems to think that since I am a Squib, they don't have to listen to me any more. They weren't too thrilled with such a Mugglish subject in the first place, but now... one of them even told me that he 'wouldn't learn no more writing crap from a dumb Squib.'" Her eyes flashed indignantly.

"So," he asked, eyebrows raised, "what did you do?"

"Took ten points from Slytherin, and gave him detention with Filch," she said defiantly. "And I'm not sorry, either." She gave him a mutinous look, as if expecting him to argue.

"And did that solve the problem?"

"It seemed to. For the moment."

He nodded, satisfied. "Good. Just keep doing that. They will get the idea soon enough."

She looked up at him. "You're not mad?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Why should I be? You have every right to punish an insolent student, be he from my house or not. The kind of behavior you describe is unacceptable." Even though five points would have done, really...

With a soft sigh, she let out a breath. "Well, I'm glad to hear you say that."

"What did you think I would say?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. You are very protective of them."

"They are my responsibility. I will not let them suffer for the fact that Slytherin house evokes negative connotations in many people's minds. These students will often be distrusted or considered tainted simply because they were sorted into Slytherin. Later in life, there may be doors closed to them for the same reason, unless their families are powerful enough to counter those assumptions. That doesn't mean that a student should get away with actual misconduct."

"Well, I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" he asked sharply.

"Taking points. Assigning detentions. That sort of thing."

"Slytherins respect strength. You keep showing it to them, and they will fall in line soon enough."

"I suppose," she said. "But I don't like the atmosphere it creates in the classroom."

"The students don't have to like you to learn from you."

"I suppose you are right...." Her voice trailed off.

"I would offer to talk to them, but it would not be to your benefit. As I have stated, Slytherins appreciate strength. Someone else, even I as their Head of House, fighting your battles for you would undermine instead of strengthen your position." Not to mention that it would provide the rumor mill with a whole new load of fodder.

"I know. That is why I haven't asked you." She sighed. "I suppose this too shall pass, hm?"

He briefly rested his chin against her hair. "I can't promise anything, of course, but my experience is that once you reestablish your authority, you will not have any more problems."

Hannah looked up at him with a chagrined smirk. "Easy for you to say," she muttered. He and McGonagall somehow managed to exude authority from every pore of their bodies. It didn't come anywhere near as naturally for her. Oh well. Enough of that unpleasant subject.

"So." Her smile turned teasing. "What house would I have been sorted into if I would have gone to Hogwarts, you think?"

He gave her an appraising look, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well?" she asked with a mock-worried look. "What is the verdict?"

He gave a short nod as if he had reached a conclusion. "Hufflepuff," he said with conviction. "Definitely Hufflepuff."

"Hey!" She punched him lightly in the arm. "I think I might have scraped out a Ravenclaw."

He caught her wrist in his hand, and regarded her solemnly. "I suppose there might have been a small chance...a very small chance..." Though his tone was completely serious, the slight crinkling around the corners of his eyes gave him away.

"Oh, you...!" She didn't get to finish her sentence as he bent forward and kissed her full on the mouth. As he released her wrist, her hand went around his neck, and neither of them had a chance to talk again for quite a while after that.

.-.-.-.

The end of March came, and with it the Easter holiday. No teaching for a blessed, glorious two weeks. Hannah never would have thought she would be so glad to just forget about her students for a while. It was just that during term time, their time together was so limited - Severus' schedule was a lot busier than hers, with Head of House duties on top of a full class schedule. The busyness of the end of spring term had done nothing to help the situation. Sometimes days would go by where she did not see him at all except for glimpses at meal times. And those were less than satisfying.

"Could you come up for dinner tomorrow?" she asked Severus when she saw him in the Hall after he had seen off those of the Slytherins who were going home Friday night. "I haven't cooked in ages. You could come up early and keep me company while I get things ready."

She had invited him before, and been curtly reminded that their absence at dinner would give rise to suspicion - especially Severus, as a Head of House, was expected to be present at the dinner table. For both of them to be absent at the same time would most certainly cause a few raised eyebrows.

But during holidays, there was a lot more coming and going, and at any given meal a third or more of the staff would be absent as they ran errands, visited friends and family, or simply decided to spend a quiet evening in their rooms.

"Please?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

To her relief, he smiled briefly and nodded. "Would around five be convenient?"

"That would be perfect."

.-.-.

At five o'clock sharp the next day, he arrived in front of her quarters. He had deemed it worth taking the risk of walking instead of Flooing. Somehow, this was different from their usual impromptu meetings for a cup of tea. This felt suspiciously like an actual date. After checking the hallway to make sure no one was watching, he knocked on her door

When she opened the door, she looked as nervous as he felt. He pulled the bottle of wine out from where he had kept it out of sight within the folds of his robe, and she beckoned him in. Behind her, he could see the small table set to perfection, with beautiful china, gleaming crystal goblets, and starched white napkins. A candle stood in the center of the table, waiting to be lit.

She walked back to the kitchen area and motioned to a chair near the counter. "Have a seat and talk to me while I get things ready." A pot of rich broth was already simmering on the stove. Different vegetables were laid out on the counter.

Hannah picked up a knife, and started in on a large onion. "How good are you at household charms?" she asked Severus, motioning towards the pungent bulb while starting to sniffle from the sharp fumes. "I could use a Nofleo Charm right about now."

"I can't say I have much experience, but I'll give it a try." He drew his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the onion, muttering the incantation. "There, better?"

"Much," she said with a grin as the stinging disappeared from her eyes and the smell of onion dissipated. "You know, you do come in handy sometimes."

He smirked in response. "Always glad to be of service."

"How did you learn? Did you help your mother in the kitchen?"

He shook his head. "No. My father believed that a kitchen was no place for a boy. And it has been Hogwarts food for most of the rest of my life. I just picked up a few things along the way, so don't set your expectations too high." The little he knew about domestic spells had come as a side effect of having been around Molly Weasley when she wielded her wand in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. It wasn't much; he had never stayed for meals while Sirius was alive, and only very rarely after Harry had inherited the house.

He got up and took a few steps over to where she was working.

"Can I help with anything else?" he asked.

She looked at him doubtfully.

"I think I am more than qualified to cut up a vegetable or two," he said with slight irritation. Cutting things up was, after all, part and parcel of his daily job description.

"Do you think you could peel and dice the potatoes?" She pointed to two tubers sitting on the other side of the L-shaped counter that made up the small kitchen row. "That would help."

"I believe I might just be able to manage that," he answered, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

Hannah laughed. "All right, then, here you go," she said as she handed him a knife and a cutting board.

"How big do you want the pieces?"

She held up her thumb and index finger. "About this big?"

After that, they worked in silence for a few minutes, both bent over their work. Hannah sliced up some carrots, then chopped some parsley. All the pieces went into the big, steaming, cast-iron pot merrily bubbling away on the old stove. She was just about to ask him how the potatoes were coming when he turned around, cutting board in hand.

"Where do you want them?"

Hannah's mouth opened slightly. "Oh..." she said weakly as she looked at the board he was holding out to her. He looked up sharply at the exclamation.

The corners of her mouth seemed to have developed a peculiar twitch. He looked down at the product of his labors. The board was covered with a single layer of perfectly even cubes, a uniform quarter inch on each side, exactly the size she had indicated. If he had set one of his students this assignment, he would have found nothing to fault.

"Is something wrong?" he asked pointedly.

"Not at all. It's... perfect." The corners of her mouth twitched even more.

Hannah looked up from those impossibly perfect, precision-cut potato cubes into the disgruntled face of Hogwarts' Potions master, still staring at the potatoes in consternation, and felt herself melt.

Quickly, she reached up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "I love you," she said before taking the potatoes from him and adding them to the pot, smiling as she turned back to the stove.

She heard him clear his throat behind her. "What was that for?" he asked, still sounding cross.

She just shook her head lightly - she was fairly sure that trying to explain the words "adorably grumpy" to him was a losing proposition.

Behind her, Severus stood completely at a loss.

The fact was that he had never considered that this would lead anywhere. It had been his expectation that one day, sooner rather than later, she would wake up and realize that she was in a relationship with a disagreeable, bad-tempered, unattractive Ex-Death Eater, and that would be that.

Her friendship he felt sure about - he could not account for the way she had acted towards him over the last few months in any other way. Friendship was one thing though, and the kisses had come as a most unexpected gift - he had not been about to look a gift horse in the mouth. But he had never supposed...

But now, with the words she had spoken, no matter how off-handedly, his supposition about the imminent demise of her - crush? Infatuation? - had gone out the window entirely. The language she had been using lately seemed to indicate that as far as she was concerned, she was in this for the long haul. And in the circles they had grown up in, those three words began an expected succession of events that ended in a natural conclusion.

The thought made his stomach lurch, and with it came the feeling of standing at the edge of an abyss. Yet the sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant...

A small smile played around the corners of his mouth.

"Well, the soup should be done in about twenty minutes or so," Hannah said briskly as the seconds of silence stretched, before turning to wash her hands in the sink. "I am going to get the steaks ready. Would you mind opening the wine? I wouldn't mind a glass..."

He turned gratefully to occupy himself with the bottle and the corkscrew, glad that that moment was over.

.-.-.-

With fast, noiseless strides, Severus walked back down towards the dungeons, thoughts running through his head at a mile a minute.

The rest of the evening had gone pleasantly enough, as they talked and laughed while they ate first the soup and then steaks, twice-baked potatoes, and a green salad. Yet Severus was only too aware that her words had thrown off the comfortable equilibrium that had existed.

He cussed inwardly when the staircase he was on picked that moment to swing up and off to the side, depositing him two floors up from where he had wanted to go. Just lovely.

He stopped to get his bearings and then headed down the corridor to his left. After a while, he became aware of voices as his long steps carried him closer and closer to two people walking in front of him.

One of them was the petulant voice of Professor Nequam, the Ancient Runes mistress, one of the faculty members he had the least use for. To him, Nequam always looked like a molting bird - grayish, slightly disheveled, with bits and pieces out of place at all times. She was walking deep in conversation with Stella Sinistra. The two witches obviously hadn't caught on to his presence behind them just yet.

"...so what do you think, are they an item?" Nequam asked.

"Maybe they're just friends."

"Stella, don't be naïve. He took her home to the parents, hm?"

Sinistra sighed. "I suppose so. I've had my suspicions for a while now. The way she looks at him...and the way they disappeared from his birthday party..."

Nequam snorted. "Well, they say there is a lid for every pot. I have to say, though, that is about the oddest match I can imagine. Wonder what she sees in him. I mean, she is certainly not attracted to him for his money or his good looks."

Sinistra was keeping quiet.

"If this were anyone else, I would say it must be his personality. But this is Snape we are talking about," Nequam added with a snorting laugh.

"Oh, come now," Sinistra said placatingly. "He isn't such a bad sort, really. There's worse wizards out there."

"I suppose so. And then, she is a Squib. What can she really expect? If she wants to catch a wizard, she'll have to go fishing in the discard pile..."

"Now wait a minute," Sinistra interrupted sharply. "I don't think that was a very nice thing to say."

"Oh come off it, Stella. How would you like to wake up to that face every morning? I mean really, who would? Personally, if I had to make a choice among Hogwarts' eligible bachelors, I'd go for Lupin - at least he only turns into a snarling, biting thing once a month at predetermined times. Snape can manage that at the drop of a hat."

"That's enough." Sinistra pulled herself up straight. "If he likes her and vice versa, that's no skin off my nose. They're both adults. So stuff it, Nettie."

"All right, I'll be quiet, then," Nequam said in a conciliatory tone as the two witches rounded a corner. "I almost forgot - you're a Slytherin, too, aren't you? And you're right, I suppose - he must have his good sides; after all, in the war..."

Their voices faded out as Severus leaned against the wall and let them move out of sight, his lips pinched together tightly. Thoughts of all sorts of unpleasant potions that could find their way into Nequam's morning pumpkin juice were running through his head. But truth be told, those same attitudes were what he could expect from others - in less offensive terms, maybe, but the same questions. He only had to look in the mirror to acknowledge that there was a basis for her point of view. What exactly was it that Hannah saw in him?

Then he straightened back up and turned around to find an alternate route to the dungeons. He had a lot of thinking to do.