A Timely Reunion

Severus Snape sat in the headmaster's office waiting for his interviewee to appear. She was not yet late, but his anxiousness made him check the time impatiently every couple of minutes. There were still eleven more to go before he could expect to hear the chime that would announce her appearance at the entrance to the spiral staircase, after which he would wait a handful of seconds more to hear her knock on the office door.

There was no reason to expect she would be late, and yet he found himself suddenly wishing for it as the hand on the clock ticked on, bringing their meeting nearer and nearer.

Having carefully planned his words, he found them running relentlessly through his mind as he attempted to write a reply to the Minister of Magic.

Good afternoon – please have a seat – let's start with your most recent work – intriguing use of wandless magic – how would you address the most recent research – what made you decide to pursue – how long have you wanted to – Why-did-you-never-tell-me-you-wanted-to-teach? What-caused-your-much-publicized-rift-with-the-Weasleys? Do-you-still-speak-with-Potter?How-do-I-know-so-much-yet-so-little-about-you? Why-are-your-letters-the-most-god-damned-interesting-things-in-my-life-at-the-moment? Will-there-be-anything-left-of-the-student-I-knew-in-you? Will-I-care?

Questions that were both unplanned and inappropriate bombarded his thoughts in quick succession and turned his stomach to a roiling sea in seconds, making him wish he had not just eaten lunch.

The warning of the soft chime drew his eyes back to his timepiece. She was two minutes early. Pulling air determinedly into his lungs, he stared at the closed door. After a longer pause than seemed necessary, a knock rang out from the other side.

"Enter," he commanded, confident that his practiced outward calmness would not betray the state of unease that plagued him.

The door swung slowly open, and then she was standing before him, taller than he remembered, wearing tailored professional robes in solid grey with black piping. He had seen her photo many times in the papers over the years, but was unprepared for the hollowness in her cheeks where he remembered youthful roundness or the calm, confident gaze that met his and concealed carefully guarded thoughts.

All memory of his script forgotten, he stood staring.

"Miss Granger."

He found himself walking around the desk toward her, drawn almost against his will. He stopped a few feet away from her and shook her hand, using the opportunity to study her face. Her warm brown eyes held back her thoughts and protected her mind even as they seemed to bore through his skull. His eyes roamed her face, looking for more assurance that this was the woman he knew, not the girl he remembered.

A light dusting of freckles danced over her nose and cheekbones, and in womanhood her slightly squared jawline was more pronounced. Thin, delicately sculpted lips were set in a neutral line as she stared back at him. A wide-set, gently arched brow moved ever-so-slightly upward.

"You haven't aged a day," she remarked, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. She, however, had certainly transformed into something entirely different in the eleven years since the war ended.

"Please have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair by the desk. She allowed the corners of her mouth to be pulled up into the suggestion of a smile as she went, and Severus returned to his desk.

"Your most recent work is... impressive."

"Thank you."

Severus was again met with a neutral gaze, unable to read anything in her eyes.

"Why is it that someone as brilliant as yourself would wish to teach so early in your career?"

She leaned forward.

"I've always wanted to teach. I think I've waited long enough. I believe I have much knowledge and experience to offer my prospective students. As a student myself, I most enjoyed the classes taught by those professors I knew to be skilled masters in their fields. The insights you gave us, for example, even as first-years, pushed us beyond a basic understanding of Potions. I have always regretted that we never had you as a proper Defense teacher after the war... while you were off finding yourself, or... whatever you were doing that year between your miraculous recovery and your reinstatement..."

She trailed off, searching his face as if to ask whether she was treading on dangerous ground. Severus simply stared at her.

"I was hardly an effective teacher... for the average student," he said softly and slowly. He had truly despised teaching the lower levels, before the OWLS had weeded out the worst of the dunderheads from his classes. Returning to the position of headmaster had been the only thing that kept him at Hogwarts.

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Hermione. "I think the average student learned quite a bit from you. The poor students were a lost cause, I suppose, what with your reputation to maintain back then... do you regret it?"

Caught off-guard, Severus scowled.

"We are not here to discuss my accomplishments, Miss Granger."

"No," she agreed simply. "But as you are already intimately familiar with mine, what are we to discuss, then?"

A heavy silence sat between them for some time before Severus cleared his throat.

"The most recent research suggests that you might be dangerously wrong in your approach. Wandless magic is notoriously unpredictable, yet you insist that it be used exclusively in any potion related to healing to produce maximum effectiveness. However, when compared to potions produced via wand magic under optimal conditions the difference in efficacy is negligible."

"Oh!" She huffed. "And I suppose you think Marcus Dunnigan has no personal interest in discrediting my research? The man who is the sole source of healing potions for St. Mungo's, and who also happens to be the only manufacturer of the goblin gold-plated cauldrons required to brew under 'optimal conditions'?!"

"So," said Severus. "You've let Marcus Dunnigan run you out of the profession."

"No! I did not – I do not want to teach because I've been scared off! It's truly what I want to do – what I've wanted to do for years. It's just not everyday that a spot opens up at the best school of magic in the country, where I happen to know the headmaster."

Severus watched her cheeks flush with interest.

"And if Marcus Dunnigan thinks he's heard the last of me, he's wrong!"

The flush deepened before disappearing as she regained her composure. They stared at one another in silence.

"I understand," Severus said, standing and walking around the desk. She stood as well.

"I understand that many consider the teaching profession the most noble and worthwhile of any, and find it immensely satisfying," he continued. "It is vitally necessary that some do. You would be such a person."

He looked down at her, for despite her heeled shoes she was still quite a bit shorter than him.

"You would be such a person who would rather teach a great multitude of silly young witches and wizards year after year than continue chipping hopelessly away at Marcus Dunnigan's hold over the Potions industry."

"Oh, Severus Snape," she said, laughing. "You don't know me as well as you think. I am quite determined to do both!"

She smiled up at him with near-blinding warmth.

"As I'm sure you've gathered from my letters, I was hoping we could work together to pry just a bit of Dunnigan's empire out of his wrinkled, spotty old hands."

Severus found it hard to breathe under her expectant gaze.

"I might be willing to consider such a venture," he admitted.

"You'd be more than willing. You'd like nothing better than to see Marcus Dunnigan taken down a notch. I know that he buried a few of your new potions and methods years ago. You were obviously too busy with... other things... to do anything about it at the time. Why not now?"

She held out a hand.

"Partners?"

After a moment's pause, Severus took it, and when the fleeting seconds that marked the end of a proper handshake had ended, he found he was not willing to let go. Hermione looked down at their joined hands, then back up at him. She put her other hand on top of his.

"You know, I would have come regardless."

"Regardless of... what?"

She smiled again.

"Regardless of the open Potions position. I would have insisted on a meeting, or perhaps I would have simply shown up at the front gate one day. As much as I looked forward to them, I grew tired of exchanging letters."

He raised an eyebrow reflexively, speechless. Placing a hand on each of his arms, she tugged him closer.

"You must know the reason why."

His eyes slid closed briefly as he allowed himself to grasp her waist at last.

"I suspected that you continued our correspondence for reasons more personal than originally stated... as the nature of our communication changed... yes. At least, I hoped..."

She laughed and reached up to place a hand on the back of his neck.

"Well... that's the best news I've heard all year," she stated, and he allowed her to pull his face toward hers, his body stiffening with the unfamiliar and overwhelming sensation of sharing an embrace.

As their lips met, he soon found himself able to relax, so much so that with the interview concluded, and his mind having long been made up to hire her, they moved to the headmaster's chambers for the remainder of their meeting that day, to better explore shared personal interests.

It was not until a few years later that the rest of the wizarding world learned that Severus Snape and Hermione Granger were more than colleagues and business partners. Their marriage took all but their closest few friends by surprise, and none more than Ronald Weasley, who at that point in life, with a large, happy family full of orange-haired children, was only upset that he had not been told and Harry had. Molly Weasley, however, never quite forgave Miss Granger for turning down the marriage proposal she had received from her youngest son years before.