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Her mentor is in rare form today. He keeps smirking when he thinks she can’t see; the years since the war have allowed him to settle. Severus will never be ‘relaxed’ per se, but he is definitely more comfortable in his everyday life. He doesn’t even snap at her anymore. Well…not as often.
Their friendship has grown over the years. From her dual apprenticeship with him and Minerva, followed by her past year as an assistant professor helping both with the younger classes, they’ve spent quite a lot of time together. She often shares her evenings with him in his study marking papers, or in his lab prepping ingredients, though she also relaxes with Minerva from time to time.
She’s gotten to know him quite well, she feels. She enjoys his company more than she ever would have thought. They even take walks together occasionally, and she’d begun to think perhaps he was experiencing the same burgeoning desires that she was. She thought he’d almost kissed her the other day when they’d been in the stockroom and she’d fallen—how cliche—and he’d caught her…
He hadn’t, and she’d been disappointed. She’d soothed her feelings by reassuring herself that at this point, they were friends, and that was a rare privilege indeed.
Until today. Her jaw dropped when while slicing a shrivelfig, seemingly unaware, he began humming under his breath. Fortunately, she catches herself and snaps it shut just before he turns to her.
“Granger, I do apologize; I meant to broach this earlier...”
Five hours later sees Hermione in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, in the light of a full moon, sitting in the frozen soil and snow around a patch of little red mushrooms. She pulls out the parchment which contains the map for that species, and spells a marker to the location. She only has three more map squares to cover for this species.
Her tasks had been laid out perfunctorily by Severus:
Her first is to collect a couple of samples of three species of mushrooms which grow in the Forest, as they have been asked to brew a potion which requires samples collected under a full moon. Apparently, all of the samples in the storeroom have been collected under waxing, waning, or new moons.
Her second task is to note the location of each group on their maps. Each species of ingredient they frequently collect from the Forest has a map which ensures last minute collections can be quick. Some of the species—particularly mushrooms and moss—require frequent updating, as they don’t tend to grow in the same place for very long. This particular species incubates for a full year before it breaks out in patches all across this hidden valley; it’s one of the few that like the cold temperatures of winter as well. Noting where they sprouted will give them a good idea of where the mushrooms will spore, and they will be able to compare this map to the previous years’ to gain a better understanding of which areas they grew successfully.
She knows it is necessary, and to some extent, she finds the work soothing—it is rather mindless and she can get lost in her own thoughts. But it is also tedious and quite time-consuming. She normally would spread this work out over several days, but Severus had insisted it had to be tonight, and that since she was collecting samples she may as well update the maps. In truth, she suspects he is simply trying to be rid of her for the evening. Perhaps she had ranted a bit too long the previous evening, and he just wanted some quiet. Or…perhaps he has a date?
He’s been acting odd lately. Well, odd for the last year or so really. Thinking back, it had begun pretty close to her completion of her apprenticeships. He’d shut her down, refusing to answer if she asked about it, but he’d taken to ducking out of the castle at odd times. Never sneaking, as she knew that if he wanted to do it in secret he certainly would. But he always insisted on privacy. The past two weeks she’s even caught him smiling on occasion, clearly at whatever was on his mind. And then there was the humming today.
She trips over a rogue root as she moves towards the next mushroom cluster, then curses herself for getting so distracted. Why should she care? He was… he was just…
Her pen pierces the parchment as she viciously marks the final cluster in the last square of the grid. She sighs, unsure even in her own mind if she feels more relief or irritation in that moment, and begins tucking her things away.
“About time.”
His discovery of a particularly stubborn bunch of wild magical mistletoe had inspired him. It was stubborn like her.
He’s struggled for over a year now to ask Hermione out. At first, he’d been frustrated by the failure, then amused. It wasn’t for lack of trying; it was simply that each attempt seemed to go unnoticed by the single-minded witch. He’d invited her to dinner numerous times. They’d strolled arm in arm both on grounds and off. She spends countless evenings in his study; she’d even fallen asleep there a few times. And he’d been tempted to kiss her more times than he could count. The trouble was, she was blind to his advances.
Minerva had cackled at him when he’d finally sought her advice. “Oh dear, Severus. I fear you’ll need to be a bit less…subtle.”
So here he is, stepping out of the shelter of the trees and into the clearing with Hermione, making himself vulnerable in more ways than one, and endeavoring to be obvious. “I became concerned with how long you were taking. Are you quite alright?”
Sure enough, her eyes narrow, her face reddens, and her hands go to her hips as she turns to face him head-on.
She starts in on him, about how condescending it is that he was timing her, how audacious he is to assume she needs to be checked on like a child. He quite loses track. He is focused: she, as always, is oblivious to his advances toward her. She simply moves along with him, unaware of precisely where she is going.
He marvels at the unconscious trust she has in him, while also berating her mentally for her lack of caution. The forest is dangerous, particularly at night.
Hermione cuts off suddenly, mid-sentence. He is inordinately pleased that when her eyes fill with suspicion, she turns first to the treeline-not to him. Then, she glances up, and her jaw drops.
“Severus?”
He smiles.
“Hermione?”
“What’s going on?”
Clever witch. He takes a step towards her.
“I was informed that my efforts have gone unnoticed.”
“Efforts?”
Another step.
“Yes, you see, we’ve now been on four dates, six unaccompanied strolls in public, and have spent numerous evenings alone in my study.”
“I—unaccompanied?”
Her confusion is so rare it is quite amusingly adorable. But he can see the wheels turning, the pieces connecting. She simply refuses to let herself draw the conclusion.
He takes another step, only half a meter away now.
“Surely you’ve noticed? I’ve been trying to court you, you stubborn witch.”
Her expression changes with comical speed. Shock to pleasure, confusion, then nervousness. “But…what? Why?”
“Because, Hermione,” he shamelessly employs the deep timber of his voice which—yes, there’s that shiver of hers. “You are a force of nature, and I find I quite wish to be in your presence at all times.”
“Wait. Aren’t you…” she trails off, braces herself, and firms up before beginning again. He can see the doubt in her eyes. “Aren’t you seeing someone?”
He smiles again, reveling in the fascination with which she studies his face. “Well, that depends. Minerva let slip that a certain someone has a very strong idea of a perfect first date. Despite our status by Wizarding standards—antiquated though they may be—” he forestalls her interruption “—Minerva made it clear to me that without your agreement, our relationship is nonexistent. And so…”
He can see her thoughts written plain on her face. The confusion mixed with irritation, hope with doubt. He hopes this will clear it up. Severus flourishes his wand, and the maps obligingly fly from her rucksack where they hover in the air before them.
Her eyebrows draw down in consternation.
Another flick of his wand, and the maps merge into one.
As the plots of mushroom species overlay each other, a pattern emerges.
“Dinner and a movie?”
The question floats in the air, and she looks from the maps to him and back again.
“Severus, that’s….that must have taken—”
“A year? Yes, it did.”
He takes the final step, bringing them flush together and stepping under the binding hold of the mistletoe.
She looks up at it and towards the map, then back to him with wide eyes.
“Hermione, would you go on a date with me?” Merlin, this is brutal. How do Gryffindors survive with their hearts all on display like this?
“I’d love to.”
Well, that helps.
He lifts his hand cautiously to trace his thumb along her cheek. She leans into his touch. Another good sign.
“And now that you can’t duck away in embarrassment–” He smirks as her cheeks tinge pink again. “–may I kiss you?”
“Please.” Her murmur scarcely reaches his ears before she stretches up to meet her lips to his. His heart soars.
They are lost in one another for a time before finally strolling hand in hand back to the castle.
“Severus?”
“Hermione?”
“Minerva told you to do that?”
“Not quite.”
At her glare, he continues, “She told me to ask you, clearly, on a date. I…decided this was more romantic given your love of the holidays.”
“Of course.”
She is silent for a time.
“Severus?”
“Hermione?”
“Next time you decide to be romantic, can you do it inside please?”
“With pleasure.” The witch would certainly get her request. Perhaps next Christmas he’ll send her on a scavenger hunt around the castle.