A Likely Story

Chapter 2 of A Likely Story

If he registered the rebuke in her statement, Severus didn't show it as he took her hand and led her into the restaurant, giving his name to the host. They waited in silence until they were led to a table. When they'd ordered, Hermione finally spoke. "You must realize that Harry took down most of the wards before you arrived. He only left up the noisy, embarrassing one." Hermione didn't meet his eyes. Surely he'd known that.

"The thought did occur to me, however the spell I showed Weasley was not one that Professor Dumbledore would have taught to Potter," he answered stiffly. Naturally this would spur an outbreak of questions, and he was prepared for them. To his surprise they never came. Their meals had arrived by the time Hermione spoke again, this time looking at him intently.

"And did you use this ward on my parents' house?" Hermione's tone was clipped, though she tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. What had she been thinking, agreeing to come here with this man? Yes, he was admirable, she'd known that since second year, but that didn't mean she ADMIRED him. Did it?

After the declaration of trust he'd unwittingly overheard at headquarters during Easter Holiday this was the last question he'd expected, and he nearly choked. He forced himself to swallow decorously and put down his fork. He met her eyes without flinching. "No, I did not."

She nodded once, and looked back down at her plate. Several more minutes passed in silence. Then Severus took a deep breath and began, for only the second time in his life, to 'explain himself.'

"It's called the Nephelme Ward," he started. He paused as she drew a quick breath and gazed at him, her dinner forgotten. Obviously she'd heard of it. He suppressed a wry smile, supposing that she'd read about it during one of her illegal forays into the Restricted Section. "It is not technically Dark Magic, though it does involve blood." He held up his hand, palm outward, and she could see the cut he'd made earlier, still knitting together slowly with a healing spell. He recalled with a smirk how Ron had looked queasy as he dripped the blood into a vial and handed it to him. "Dumbledore thought it best that I not use it on your parents' home because the Dark Lord would have been able to recognize that I'd cast it." There was more, but he was sure her quick mind had already pieced together what he'd told her with whatever she'd read.

Hermione had closed her eyes, and there was a self-deprecating smile on her face. Of course he couldn't have cast it for her parents - the caster had to know who was safe to let into the home and who wasn't. The ward took instructions directly from the minds of those who'd given blood for the incantation. If Ron cast it now with his own blood as well as Severus' they would be protected very well, she knew. But she could have cast it for her parents. Why hadn't she remembered that ward when Dumbledore was suggesting what to use?

The thought of Dumbledore caused her eyes to fly open, and she shook her head. "That's why he never gave you the Dark Arts position, then," she said suddenly, "because you don't agree on what's Dark Magic and what's not." He met her eyes and raised a brow, nearly smirking.

"I'd pay a lot of money to find out which of my colleagues leaked that information to the student body," he replied dryly. Hesitatingly, Hermione smiled in response, and though it was an effort, he let his smirk relax into something of a smile as well. The shock in her eyes was enough to keep the smile in place, and they looked into one another's eyes for a moment. They finished dinner in silence. Severus spent the time wondering if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. With all the negative history between them, how was he to go about convincing her that he cared about her at all?

Hermione spent the time planning what she was going to say to Harry when she arrived home. She couldn't really scold him, as he'd dropped the wards as she'd asked him to. He'd only say that he'd forgotten one. Sirius' death had changed Harry, and she hesitated to upset him. Still, he'd been sullen for two years now, and really she'd had about enough. His irrational dislike of Severus was becoming disruptive to Order business as well. Yes, Snape had goaded Sirius about being useless just before the debacle at the Ministry. But Sirius had taunted him as well. It seemed it was just the nature of their relationship. That didn't mean that Sirius' death was somehow Severus' fault. Nevertheless, that is exactly how Harry saw it.

Dinner over, they made their way to the convention hall. Hermione shook her head silently when she realized her own disappointment. Severus hadn't taken her hand this time. Then she blinked twice and reminded herself that she was a Gryffindor before slipping her hand into his.

Not letting his footsteps falter, Severus looked over at her when he felt her hand on his. Perhaps dinner had gone better than he'd given himself credit for?

They arrived nearly half an hour early, as had been his plan, and he led her through a maze of corridors before knocking loudly on an unmarked door to which she was certain she would never be able to find her way again. "You'll get used to it," he offered, noticing her bemused expression.

"Did you attend here, then?" she asked as he rapped on the door again, even more loudly. He didn't answer.

"Deaf old bugger," he muttered, narrowing his eyes at the door. After another moment the door swung open, and a rather fat, whiskery old man chuckled and offered him a hand to shake.

"SEVERUS, OLD BOY! DIDN'T BELIEVE WARRINGTON WHEN HE SAID YOU'D BE COMING!" Severus winced as Hermione grinned widely. It was not the sort of situation that suited her date's usual demeanor.

"Hello Averbeck," he replied, nearly as loudly. "Where's the old snake preening? I have someone I'd like him to meet." After he'd repeated his request twice more, Severus and Hermione were led through to a smaller room where a very old wizard was looking disparagingly at his own reflection.

As they approached he gestured toward the mirror. "Depressing as all hell," he remarked, ignoring the mirror's rude comment. ('You're telling me!')

"You'll always have your cover of Witch Weekly to keep you company in your dotage, you old snake," Severus responded. Hermione looked up at him questioningly. The tone of his voice was just as cutting as if he were talking to Neville in Potions class, but the old wizard only laughed. Apparently Slytherins didn't take offense at such things between themselves. She shook her head as Severus strode forward and grasped the outstretched hand warmly. Averbeck made himself scarce as Severus introduced Hermione to Professor Warrington.

"So you're the one Severus made such a fuss over. Haven't had a recommendation letter from him in years. Didn't mention you were a Gryffindor in the letter." Warrington cast Severus a disdainful look, getting only a smirk in reply.

Hermione shook his hand, and decided that Gryffindor bravery had served her well enough so far tonight, she might as well put it to the test. "Would it have made a difference?" she asked impertinently. Severus closed his eyes and bit back a chuckle. She may have grown up while he wasn't looking, but this aspect of her personality would never change. She was just like Minerva - consequences be damned, she was going to speak her mind.

"Course it would, my girl! I'd have written to warn you to keep clear of this old bat!"

Hermione blinked twice, then covered her mouth politely, trying to fight back her laughter. She looked at Severus sideways and noticed that he was glaring at Warrington, and a peal of laughter escaped her. "I've got to admit that a little advance warning would have made things less confusing," she said, mastering herself finally.

Severus narrowed his eyes in her direction, but she only smiled back at him. He hadn't really considered that she might be confused about anything. What was confusing? He had wanted to ask her out, and he had done so. She was brilliant - what could she possibly misunderstand about that?

Warrington, older and wiser, nodded solemnly in understanding. "I imagine so. I remember what a difficult time I had with - " he left off suddenly, then caught Severus' raised eyebrow. A wicked grin crept across the old man's face and he took Hermione by the elbow, pulling her away from Severus. "Slytherins don't show affection the way you're used to, young one," he whispered, casting an inauspicious glance over her shoulder at Severus. She looked at him with wide eyes. "The beautiful Gryffindor girl who turned my head never understood, and she left me for - well, just know that every act means more than you think. Anyone else would have been buying you roses and trinkets by now. If that's what you want, you're with the wrong man."

Hermione swallowed hard and cast a glance at Severus as well. He was scowling, though he made no move to interrupt. "Frankly, Professor, I'm not exactly sure what I want," she admitted in a small voice. A wry smile came over the man's face, then. Hadn't he heard the same line? He wondered briefly if Severus had bothered to tell her that he liked her at all, then shook his head. As much as he'd like to protect his former student, it wasn't any of his business.

"All I'm saying is: take nothing for granted, Miss Granger." Professor Warrington was conscious of Severus' glare, but comparatively immune to it. Nevertheless, he let her go and suppressed a grin as she nearly scampered back to the younger man's side. Maybe it would work out for them as it had not for him.

Severus excused them stiffly, claiming it was time to find their seats, and Hermione was grateful. Professor Warrington appeared to be nearly as old as Professor Dumbledore, but he was almost the man's polar opposite. Where Dumbledore was warm and forgiving, Warrington was hard and demanding. What had he meant by taking her aside that way? It wasn't as if she was in a position to break his precious pupil's heart.

She looked surreptitiously at Severus as he led her back through the maze. He'd been careful all evening to walk slowly enough so that she wouldn't fall behind, so she could see his face. He looked angry. She stopped walking abruptly. They likely had another 15 minutes before Warrington would step on stage, and she wanted to understand exactly what was going on.

Severus noticed when her footsteps ceased and stopped as well. When he turned to look at her he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She stood with an intense look of concentration in her eyes, her hands on her hips. She was worrying her bottom lip nervously. When she looked up into his eyes, he felt some of her nerves transferring to him, but he didn't shift his gaze. He was unaware that the angry look on his face was only strengthening her resolve. He was about to ask her why she'd stopped when she began to speak. This time, rather than talk over her, he fell silent.

"If I tell you what he said, will you promise to tell me what he meant by it?" It had occurred to her that this would alleviate his anger as well as force him to explain exactly why he'd asked her to the convention.

Severus was a little alarmed when this question was accompanied by a smirk. Smirking Gryffindors generally meant trouble. Hoping she wouldn't extract a wizard's oath, he nodded cautiously. "Alright." He turned abruptly and led her through three more corridors until they reached a small, carpeted room with several candy machines and a soda dispenser. Hermione took a seat on the couch, while Severus stood uncomfortably. Then she smiled and gestured toward the seat beside her. With only a moment's hesitation he seated himself stiffly as she recounted Warrington's warnings, verbatim. Then she leaned back and waited for the translation from 'Slytherin' to 'English.'