Chapter Text
“Will you stop that?”
He chuckled. “Stop what?”
“Looking at me while I work. It’s distracting.”
“I’m distracting? Me? How unexpected. I don’t believe anyone has ever said that about me.”
“Don’t take it as a compliment,” Hermione retorted playfully.
“I enjoy watching you. You’re so focused,” said Severus, leaning over the cauldron from a safe distance of course. “A master at work.”
“I prefer Mistress.” That made him pause and crack a smile. It had only been eleven days since he entered her life and she already knew she loved when he smiled. Meals with her family and out in town taught her how special that was. He was more stoic than she initially thought. The fact that he’d let his guard down so easily and so quickly for her, spoke volumes. “Now, be quiet. I have to time this just right.”
Hermione used her wand to levitate a fireseed orchid (in full bloom) above the bubbling clear liquid. She watched intently for the bubbles to slow and eventually cease. It was the exact moment to add the orchid to the concoction, when the temperature was right below boiling. There was a narrow temperature range in which the petals would seep effectively without a burn risk which would render the plant useless.
“It’s turning a blue-ish purple…” she murmured, noting it in a nearby journal. “Noted specks of gold.”
Severus tilted his head and remarked, “Is that the intended result?”
Absently, she removed her red apple apron and made her way over to a sink in the corner of the room. “I should say so. Give it an hour to settle. It has to be bottled and stopped in about four hours to reduce contamination.”
“It looks like the sea.”
“That’s the wavepetal mixing with the coralroot. The Fireseed activates them.”
“A catalyst,” he said to himself, looking deeply intrigued. Hermione stepped away from the heat and placed her apron on the hook near the storeroom. She was overheated from working over steam for the past few hours. Her hair managed to grow in size with the rising humidity so she pulled it loose from the low ponytail to lift it off her back. He curiously watched her twist it into a high bun.
“I told you to stop that,” she smiled, pushing one loose curl behind her ear.
He followed her out into the main waiting room where it was already much cooler. Hermione did like to use unnecessary charms near the potions. “Do you have any clue what you look like right now?”
“Um, I look like me. Hermione.”
“No, no. Professor Granger, more like. A schoolboy’s hopes and dreams.”
“A naughty schoolboy?”
“I can be.”
“Of that, I am well aware.”
“It’s the bun and that blouse you’re wearing.”
She had to see two clients that morning and always made sure to look the part of a professional even though she kept her speech natural, welcoming, and informal. One meeting ran late and she couldn’t wait to get started on the final stage of the potion. She could have transfigured the blouse into something more practical but she liked it and didn't want to risk ruining it permanently. Parvati was more talented in such things.
“What about this blouse is so notable? It’s pink?”
“The buttons.”
“Buttons?” she said feigning innocence, starting to loosen them. “These buttons?”
“Yes. Those would be the ones. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me. Do you always dress that way for your clients?”
Hermione shrugged. “Are you my client?”
“I suppose I am.”
“Then, I’d say, not always. Only recently.”
“Interesting.”
“I’m not even showing anything… yet.”
“You know what you’re doing.”
“I know you like it.”
“I was wondering something as you stand here teasing me. When do you suggest we run the first trial?”
Oh.
“You’re ready for that? Are you sure? You’re not scared to?”
“I trust you.”
“It might not work. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
He paced as he spoke, running his fingers through his hair. He’d gotten hot in the lab just like her. They’d been at this for hours, taking turns stirring and waiting. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of dusk approaching, the call of certain animals waking. A purple sky painted outside the window. A long day. Perhaps a long night as well.
“If you took it tonight, I’d stay up with you either way. I have to monitor you. I formulated this for witches.”
“I know. You’ve said so.”
“So, it might not work.”
“Are you hoping it does? Or hoping it doesn’t?”
“You know I want you to feel… I want you to be happier. All of you.”
“Here are my thoughts. If it works, then we can say we’ve accomplished something. If it doesn’t work, it means I’ll stay even longer. I admit that the second one is selfish. My nation is counting on this.”
“I won’t tell anyone. So, which one are you hoping for more?”
“I’d like to be selfish.”
“You know something… Y-You can always visit even after… If it works, I mean. I’ll get you your own mobile and an email address. We can still talk.”
“It’s not the same, is it?”
“I wouldn’t expect it to be.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Either outcome, we’ll be alright.”
“So, tonight?” he said. “After bath and bedtime?”
“Right. Tonight. After bedtime.”
Ria was turning five in a few days and at dinner she captivated the entire table with her thoughts on the subject. Articulate for her age with a sizable vocabulary, she stuck out amongst her classmates already.
“Everybody is already five. I’m the littlest and the youngest. Jackson is already six. His birthday was today. His mum brought a cake for the entire class.”
“Nana and I got special permission for you to start school this term,” Hermione explained to her. “You will be the same age as the other kids soon. Would you like me to bring a cake for your birthday too?”
Hermione remembered those days when every single year was a celebration and the whole world had to stop to celebrate with you. Balloons and party hats were already on her shopping list in her head. Ria’s birthday was on a Thursday but they’d do something nice on the weekend for her as well.
“Yes!” she said, nodding happily.
“Would you like anything on it? A cartoon or something?”
“Babbity Rabbity? Can he hop around the cake again? Like at Jasmine’s party?”
“That will be your magical one, love,” said Helen. “This is for your schoolmates. Can’t have anything to do with hopping around or talking or singing.”
The girl chewed her food loudly as she pondered her options. “I don’t know,” she shrugged.
Severus turned to her and said, “My daughter always fancied a princess or two. We'd go to the cinema and she’d be obsessed with them for months.”
“Which was her favorite?” asked Hermione, loving the idea of him watching animated movies for the sake of his child, knowing he was more of a mystery and suspense kind of person. He did his nails with Anna and, though he hadn’t mentioned it, probably dabbled in a bit of makeup as well since she scented the type who liked that sort of thing.
“Cinderella was her favorite for a long time but I think she’d say Belle now. What do you think about that?”
“I like animals more than princesses,” she replied and then exclaimed, “I want a Lion King cake!”
“Try that one again,” Helen admonished her.
The soon-to-be five year old straightened and smiled amicably. “May I have a Lion King cake, please?”
“Sorted,” John told her with finality. “I’ll ring Kasey next door and call in a favor.”
“Thank you, granddad! Mr. Severus?” Ria started as she repositioned herself onto her knees in the narrow wooden chair. Hermione hated when she did that but it wasn’t worth a pouting phase so close to bath time. Now that she spent her entire day at school, Hermione wanted the time they spent together in the evening to be as pleasant as possible. “When is Anna’s birthday?”
“The ninth of July. Why?”
“She will be turning thirteen because she is twelve now.”
“You’re correct. That’s impressive counting.”
The child grinned at the compliment and just like her mother loved it when her intelligence was recognized and appreciated. Hermione saw so much of herself in Ria especially the more she grew and she sometimes wondered if another child would be similar or an entirely new experience. Padma’s son was so tiny when she finally got to see him and hold him which brought up all sorts of wonders.
The donor she used to conceive was, in every way she could ascertain, the perfect match for a healthy child. He was genetically compatible and hadn’t had any concerning medical issues in his family history. She doubted she could get his sample again, especially five years later. Baby Ria was turning five, and that made Hermione wistful. Watching Severus speak to her so gently and listen so intently made her think of new possibilities as well.
That night when Ria asked for four bedtime stories instead of her normal two, Hermione couldn’t deny her whatsoever since she knew there would be a day when bedtime stories would just be memories to replay in nostalgia.
Eventually, Ria nodded off and Hermione silently slipped away, not without making sure the charmed ceiling about her head was in place—a sea of shining stars. She’d read about it long ago and always used it in lieu of a standard nightlight.
It was a little past eight-thirty by then so her parents were winding down for the night. Her mother hummed a classical tune while cleaning the kitchen and her father relaxed with the evening news on the television. The scene played out thousands of times throughout her stable, well-ordered life. Dad cooked. Mum cleaned. Homework completed and checked. Bath. Bed. Stable.
Balanced. A glance at the television and she saw a news story about the local animal shelters needing new homes for hundreds of cats and dogs.
“We should take Ri to pick one out,” said John, pressing the mute button on the television remote.
“We should,” Hermione agreed. “Soon. I’ve been so busy and… yeah.”
“Possum, let’s have a chat. Can you sit with me for a little?”
“Oh. Right now?” She smiled at the term of endearment.
He nodded and gestured to the chair adjacent to the sofa he was lying on. “Right now.”
Swallowing, she wondered what he had to say. It had to be about Severus. She knew her mum kept most things between them but some things were obvious and he had to have had questions. They’d gone out on more than a few dates and her father had been a babysitter.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. Why?”
“I thought I should ask. We don’t get a chance to talk as much these days.”
“Things have been hectic, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“How is this project going? Making any strides?”
“We’re still in the beginning stages,” she said, keeping it wonderfully vague.
“Do you think you’ll be able to help? I mean, so far with what you’ve done?”
“Maybe. Again, I don’t know yet. Anything is possible.”
John nodded and said something unexpected. “I think he’s good for you. From what your mother says, he cares about you and I see him with you and Ria and I like what I see. It hasn’t been a long time but you’re happy and I like that.”
“Oh, I didn’t think you—You like him? Really?”
“I knew a little bit about the Kamal situation and some of the others over the years. They seemed to do more harm than good. Besides, I talked to him on my own a few times. He’s mature. That tattoo he’s got is a little terrifying, I won’t lie. But, we’ve all been through things in our past.”
“What did he tell you about it?”
“He was a soldier.”
“He was a spy for the good side.”
Love, lust, and pure passion hadn’t completely taken over Hermione’s faculties. She had Brian do an even deeper background check than the one they’d done before he came to stay at her home. Everything he’d told her about his life, on the surface, was true.
“He is a good guy,” she said, smiling.
“How does he like Kalara?”
“He thinks it’s beautiful. Makes him feel calm.”
“Good. That’s good. Glad he likes it here.”
The kitchen light shut off and Helen sighed, mobile in hand. “Everything alright?” she asked, resting a loving hand on Hermione’s shoulder.
“Yes. Just chatting,” John replied, sitting up and turning off the television. “That’s all.”