Chapter 16 – the Let's Try This Again

They slowly broke apart, leaving a tingling feeling on Hermione's lips. She wanted more, craved more, but held back. She was already all over the place, emotionally. She needed to compose herself, find a little dignity. She had been crying, for Merlin's sake! This wouldn't do. She pulled away a little further, but without letting go of Snape's hand. She looked at him, this man that she had fallen for, hopelessly. A sudden shiver ran down her spine and she shuddered.

"What?" Snape asked.

"You're trouble," said Hermione, telling him exactly what she was thinking. There's a first for everything, she thought.

Snape snorted.

"But it's quite apparent that I'm incapable of staying away from it," she said crisply.

"By it, you mean me?" Snape said, quirking his lips. "Hermione, you've never been able to stay out of trouble. That's one of the reasons I—" He stopped. "It's one of the key components of your personality."

Hermione harrumphed, pulling her hand away, but Snape held it tight.

"It's true. You seek trouble out, and then you usually turn that trouble into whatever you want it to be." He moved his face closer to hers." A solution," he said, inching even closer. "An opportunity."

And then his lips were on hers. "Come over to my place tonight," he whispered, in between kisses.

Spinner's End looked even more depressing than Hermione remembered it. She quickly walked up to Snape's door and knocked. Glancing around she saw a small pot of flowers that hadn't been there before.

That's odd, she thought as she scanned the rest of her surroundings, also noticing a couple of very un-Snapelike lace curtains in the windows.

She heard shuffling from the inside, and someone fiddling with the lock. The door creaked open and an elderly lady peeked through a small slit in the doorway.

"Can I help you?" she asked, not unkindly, adjusting a pink cardigan she had over her shoulders.

"I'm looking for Severus Snape," Hermione said, confused.

"Ah." The lady nodded and left the doorway for a moment, leaving the door ajar. She came back holding a folded piece of paper.

"The previous owner left this in case you would drop by." She eyed Hermione over her horn-rimmed spectacles. "You are Hermione Granger, correct?"

"Yes, yes I am," Hermione said and took the note from the woman's hand. As she opened it, she could feel her curious eyes on her.

Hermione unfolded the note and read it.

Try again.

"Well, what does it say?" the woman asked.

"I suppose it says that he no longer lives here," Hermione said, staring at the two words on the little piece of paper.

The elderly woman chuckled. "Quite right. But I think you know where you can find him." She winked at Hermione and then softly closed the door.

Hermione felt dumbstruck for about two seconds, then she folded the note resolutely and Apparated.

Hermione found herself outside the gate in the little white fence surrounding the house of Aerie Valley No 6.

The house that was supposed to be her house.

The house that now seemed to be inhibited by the most obnoxious and annoying man she had ever met. Who also happened to be the man she was in love with. It was irritating, to say the least.

She opened the gate and walked through the small garden towards the house. The air was crisp and held a promise of the chilly nights to come. Fall was definitely upon them. She passed an apple tree ripe with fruit, before stopping outside the door. She knocked and the door swung open immediately, revealing Snape, in an all-black outfit.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, surprised.

"You're late," he said curtly.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I thought we were meeting somewhere else."

"Right," he said, stepping aside to let her in. "I take it you've met Mrs. Callaghan then?"

"Yes." Hermione shrugged off her coat. "Charming woman. She has completely transformed Spinner's End."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "I doubt it."

Hermione looked around the small living room, unable to hide her curiosity. Snape had obviously gone to great lengths to make Aerie Valley everything Spinner's End wasn't.

There was a fire blazing. The walls were still lined with book shelves, but Snape's signature oak furniture had been replaced with a very comfortable-looking beige couch and a couple of matching armchairs. A vase with hand-picked flowers from the garden stood on a side table, beside a bowl of apples.

And there was a cat.

A cat.

Hermione froze in the middle of the living room, stunned. Her eyes darted from the creature, lazily licking its paws on the couch, to Snape.

Snape cleared his throat. "I'm going to get you something to drink, I'll be right back."

"Eh, Severus," Hermione said when he returned with two glasses of red wine.

"Yes?"

"There's a ... cat," she said, pointing towards the feline. "A cat, right there. Did you know?"

Snape smirked. "Why is that so surprising?"

Hermione just shook her head, taking a gulp of her wine.

Snape's smile grew wider. "I named her Minerva."

"Did you now?" Hermione let out a laugh. "And do you and Minerva get along?"

"Only when I do exactly what she tells me to do, otherwise not so much."

Dinner turned out to be a very pleasurable experience. Snape was an excellent cook, and it wasn't that surprising Hermione thought, considering Snape's expertise in the potions field. Cooking wasn't that different from preparing and mixing potions, after all.

They had retreated to the couch, and sat in contented silence, nursing a third glass of wine. Hermione carefully put her head on Snape's shoulder, a small sigh escaping her lips.

She let her eyes rest on the fire; the warm and cosy crackling noise making her a little drowsy. Suddenly something on the mantelpiece caught her attention. Awake and alert she stood up, and walked over to the fire grate.

"What's this?" she said, picking up the object. She immediately recognized it as the coin Snape had used on the night of the World Potions conference. It felt heavy and cold in her hand.

"That's my lucky coin," Snape said hurriedly. "But it's not—"

Hermione turned it over, her eyes widening, a cold feeling washing over her. "But … Both sides are the same," she said shrilly.

Snape shot up from the couch. "Yes, I know, but I—"

"You tricked me," Hermione said, unable to stop herself, realization dawning on her. "You made me think … You made me think there was some sort of … Like fate had something to do with this, with us." She could feel tears burning behind her eyes.

"Hermione," Snape cut off, snatching the coin from her hand. "Does it really matter?"

They locked eyes and the disappointment in Snape's voice almost made her cry.

"No. I-I guess not," she admitted quietly.

Snape held her gaze, breaking it shortly to toss the coin into the fire. The flames roared to life, licking the insides of the fire grate as the coin vanished into ashes.

"I should have done that ages ago," Snape said firmly.

Hermione stood rooted to the floor, her eyes fixed on a little stain on the carpet, unsure of what to do.

And then Snape scooped her up in his arms.

Hermione gave out a little yelp. "What are you—"

"Just …" Snape put her down on the couch, placing himself carefully on top of her. "Be quiet for once in your life." He kissed her softly, tracing a line of kisses down her jaw line.

"But that's another key component of my personality," Hermione said weakly, placing her arms around his neck. "Not being quiet, I mean."

"Well, try," Snape said, quirking his lips as he kissed her, tenderly at first and then urgently.

"I've missed this," Snape whispered in Hermione's ear, after placing the last piece of their clothing on the floor. "I've missed you."

"Good," Hermione said.

Snape lifted his head to look her in the eyes. "Good?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yes," she smiled. "Good."

And as he eased into her, she wanted the moment to go on forever.

It didn't.

"I'm sorry," Snape said in clipped notes.

"Don't be." Hermione pulled her sweater closer around her body.

"I got too ..." Snape grimaced. "Excited."

"That's a word you don't hear everyday describing you," Hermione said teasingly.

Snape's grimace turned into an expression of pure horror.

"But it's okay," Hermione added quickly. "Really."

"No," he muttered, flicking invisible lint from the couch. "It certainly isn't."

"Besides," she said. "I know you can do better."

"Right," Snape drawled. "That's really comforting."

Hermione slumped back into the couch, spreading her arms. "You did everything right. Flowers, dinner, wine." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I couldn't be happier."

Snape shot her a sideways glance. "You could be a little happier."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders ."I suppose, but—"

Snape scooted over to her side. "Let's try this again."