Arden's Refuge

It was a good thing it was Friday night, Severus thought, as he carried Hermione's sleeping body into the Snape beach house, located conveniently just next to the private beach. Hermione would be able to sleep in the next morning. He certainly didn't want to risk Apparating back now, with Hermione so obviously fatigued.

He shouldn't have enjoyed holding her so much.

This was ridiculous, he realized. They had spent one evening together; it was impossible that he could be... smitten. Impossible. He, too, was very tired.

He charmed the sand off her robes and carefully deposited her on the canopy bed in the ground floor bedroom. She didn't even wake up as he tucked the blankets around her... she had obviously been completely worn out. Her bun had come undone and the loose curls were spread across the pillow.

Severus--wisely, he thought--refrained from giving her a goodnight kiss and went upstairs to go to sleep.

-----

Severus noticed as he was brushing his teeth that the Polyjuice was beginning to wear off. Black roots had begun to crop up in the red hair, his nose was lengthening, and his teeth stubbornly pushed themselves back into their usual crooked position. If she could see him now, he thought, she would never let him hold her.

The freckles were gradually disappearing from his forearms, replaced by a solid swath of impossibly white skin. He locked the door of his bedroom. He would have to take another swallow of Polyjuice before he came downstairs in the morning.

It really wasn't fair, he thought. He could kill Albus. On the other hand, he would never tell Albus exactly what had happened... He'd have to find some other way of punishing him.

His face had completely transformed by now, the crooked nose fully protruding past his small, beady eyes, the teeth crooked behind his thin lips. Severus gave one last look at himself in the mirror, then turned away in the disgust and left the room.

-----

Severus woke up at six o'clock, according to his usual custom, immediately dressed, brushed his teeth, and swallowed a gulp of Polyjuice potion from a small flask he had slipped into his pocket the night before. The transformation happened rather quickly, and soon after he gained Weasley's extra five inches in height and regular, if not striking, features, he slipped quietly downstairs to make some breakfast.

The kitchen cabinets at the beach house were scantily stocked--Severus hadn't stayed there in several months--but he managed to locate some dry oatmeal, some spices, and an unopened tin of coffee. Boring enough, but it would do.

The oatmeal was warming on the stove and the coffee had just dripped out of the espresso maker when Hermione staggered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. "Ron? I fell asleep last night... on the beach... didn't I? Where are we?"

Severus sucked in a sharp breath of air. He hadn't even thought of how he would explain the convenient presence of an unlocked beach house. He decided to tell the truth--or nearly so. "Actually... this is Severus Snape's beach house. He doesn't come here very often and he told me I could use it some time..."

"How nice," Hermione said. "He's really a nice man, you know--Snape? I mean, he has his rough edges, still, but did you know that he always go to extra trouble to make sure Remus has his Wolfsbane? Nymphadora was telling me how kind he's been to them since they got married, how much he's helped them out in little ways."

"Hmm. Would you like some oatmeal?"

"Sure. You know, this beach house is not what I would have expected him to have, either. Look how nicely-decorated this is... it's so light and sunny... look at these chairs, Ron, these are Mackintosh chairs. He has good taste."

Severus found himself torn between discomfort at the implicit deceptiveness of the entire situation, embarrassment at being complimented, amusement at the irony, and a strange pleasure in knowing he was respected by Hermione. "Here's your oatmeal."

"Thanks... is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, fine. We'll need to leave soon after we finish eating."

Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee. "What kind of coffee is this?"

"Yemeni."

"I'm surprised you noticed. I didn't know you even drank coffee. I thought you didn't like it."

Severus nearly choked on the coffee he had just swallowed. "I guess I like it all right."

"Is that all you have to say about it?" Hermione asked, getting slightly annoyed by his shortness. "I thought after last night... but, Ron, you never seem to have much to say."

Severus could think of no appropriate reply. He somehow couldn't find it in his heart to attempt any sort of explanation, except maybe... "Well, I'm just not as smart as you are, Hermione." Well, it was the truth...

"I guess it really isn't fair to expect you to talk about the things I'm interested in," Hermione said, then deliberately put another spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth. "It's not who you are. Not really."

"No matter how hard I try," Severus commented, "I can't change who I am. Now I think it's about time for us to leave. Finished with your oatmeal?"

"Not quite."

"I'll wait a few minutes."

-----

Even in the middle of the summer, it was a chilly morning in London. The bleak gray sky seemed even more dreary than ever as Severus walked down the sidewalk.

"You're in awfully late!" Albus commented in his annoyingly jolly manner as Severus walked in at Grimmauld Place around eleven o'clock. "Did you have a good time?"

Severus glared at him. "It was all right."

"You must tell me all about it!"

"No," Severus hissed, "I mustn't."

Albus pretended to be hurt. "I don't know why you have to be so defensive about it. Can't an old man be curious?"

"And old fool may be curious, but a slightly less old fool may choose not to respond." Severus had deposited Hermione safely at her London flat half an hour earlier. Fortunately, they had parted in cold silence, and Hermione had displayed none of the affection that had gushed out of her the night before. Severus was relieved that she hadn't tried to kiss him again. He was very glad, indeed. He had, for some reason, chosen to walk from Hermione's flat to Grimmauld Place. It had been damp, chilly, and utterly uncomfortable, and he thought he was coming down with a cold. He was rather glad of that, too.

"Are you all right, Severus? Well, of course you are," Albus said. "I informed the Weasleys this morning that Ron will soon be going to America for a top-secret mission for the next three weeks, and they are not to tell anyone. I expect word will reach Draco sometime in the next couple of days Weasley is out of town. Which means that it will look very suspicious if all of a sudden you stop showing up to Death Eater meetings. Which is, of course, why I told the Weasleys that you were going, as well. Accordingly, you'll have to stay here for the next three weeks."

Severus sighed. "All right. When are we supposedly leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning at four o'clock."

"In the evening?"

"In the morning, of course," Albus stated.

"You do realize, Albus, that it would be even earlier in America?" Severus shook his head at the irrationality of Dumbledore's timing. He was about to have enough of the old wizard's crazy scheming.

"Of course. Get over it, Severus, it's not as if you're actually going. Besides, without a few loony details, Draco will never believe it's a real plan, now will he?"

"At least, if it were perfectly reasonable, he'd know you hadn't been involved."

Albus laughed and Severus found himself laughing, too. Just when he thought Albus was really going senile, a telling twinkle in his eye always confirmed that Dumbledore's tongue was planted firmly in his cheek. Dumbledore finally spoke, "Seriously, Severus, I think you overestimate Draco's intelligence. It isn't as if we're dealing with, well... Hermione Granger."

"Indeed not." Severus began reading the newspaper, hoping Albus would get the message that he utterly refused to talk about the matter further.

"Do you think you'll be able to take her out again tonight?"

"I would prefer not to."

"Haha! Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to! Hermione and Ron always go out on Saturday nights! Draco will know something is fishy if he doesn't show up!"

Severus slammed down his newspaper. "No, Albus! I do not think he will. Not when Ron is leaving at five o'clock tomorrow morning."

"Of course, but you see, Draco doesn't know that yet!"

"This is ridiculous. I'm not going out with her again. You've stepped over the line, old man. This was too much."

"Come on, Severus, I know it wasn't that bad. I'd even venture to guess that you had a little bit of fun. There aren't too many young women out there who like twentieth-century poetry as much as you do! She's a delightful conversationalist, as I'm sure you noticed. You can't tell me it was that bad."

"Indeed." Severus resumed his newspaper, attempting to hide his face.

"And that's all you tell me?" Albus threw his hands up in mock despair. "You maintain that it was, indeed, that awful, and yet you refuse to tell me why?"

"Yes, sir."

"So shall I owl her and tell her you'll meet her at that Muggle bookstore she likes at seven o'clock tonight?"

"You want to owl her, but I do, in fact, have a major objection to it, as I believe I have made manifestly clear," Severus said with his teeth clenched.

"For the sake of the Order, my dear boy..."

"I am not a boy, and this is not for the sake of the Order. It's for the sake of one of your sadistic schemes."

"Sadistic? Severus, I am terribly offended. Surely you do not believe that I enjoy inflicting pain on others. But I cannot imagine that any of this, however inconvenient it may have been for you, has inflicted pain on anyone."

"Indeed, Dumbledore, you cannot imagine," he said, moving the newspaper to fix a death gaze on the old man.

"I suppose I could always probe your mind if you refuse to explain."

"You wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't. 'Twould be too cruel."

"That doesn't seem to stop you most of the time."

"What is this about, Severus? It's as if one little date has ruined your entire life. So you didn't have a good time. It's over now."

"All right."

"Of course, maybe that isn't it at all... maybe..."

Severus knew Dumbledore was about to strike onto the truth; in fact, he had probably guessed almost as soon as Severus had come. He dreaded having to confirm Albus's suspicions, though, dreaded hearing those words spoken out loud. Somehow he could bear it better if know one knew and... pitied. A softening in Albus's eyes showed that that was precisely what he felt--pity.

"Oh no, Severus, you didn't... fall for her... did you?"

"Sir..." Severus continued pretending to read his newspaper, his pale cheeks flushing most embarrassingly. Albus tried to sit down next to him, but he moved abruptly away and stood up. "Good day, sir." With that, he gracefully walked upstairs, quickly enough that Dumbledore couldn't tell he was shaking.

-----

Albus Dumbledore was willing to admit that this time, he'd made a mistake. It had happened before--Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts stood out in his memory--but he always hated being reminded of his own fallibility. It was difficult living with everyone's expectations of perfection, when he knew all too well... And now Severus had proven it.

Now that he thought about it, the whole charade had obviously been unnecessary. Draco's intelligence network wasn't particular advanced; most likely, they would never have picked up on the fact that Ron had failed to show up for a date the night after the raid.

Most likely. In the back of his mind, Albus still felt that it was better to play it safe. But were the consequences too great now?

It was obvious to Albus that Severus had grown increasingly weary of his sometimes convoluted tactics. It was Severus's nature to cut straight to the core of some things... and yet, apparently, Severus had his own areas of evasion. He suspected how difficult this newfound vulnerability was for Severus. How terrible to have no one in whom he could confide. He thought of the day Minerva and Alastor had announced their engagement. How terrible, indeed... He knew.

Albus was interrupted from these sobering thoughts by Severus's return to the kitchen.

"Albus, I want to see her again. I'm taking her out tonight."

Albus looked at him with concern. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What is with you, you barmy old fool? First you try to talk me into it and now you're trying to talk me out of it? I'm telling you, I'm doing this, and quite frankly, you aren't going to stop me."