Obiter Dictum

5

Daphne glanced between her employer and the new apprentice quickly. Could it be true?

She had been so sheltered from the war. She and her younger sister had been quickly pulled out of school after the Christmas break. When it was rumoured that Harry Potter had been spotted in Godric's Hollow. She had not kept up with the news after that. Only hearing of the aftermath of the battle of Hogwarts. How the Dark Lord had been vanquished, that many of the students had fought and consequently been injured or killed.

She knew Hermione was part of it all. She was one of Harry Potter's best friends. She had not, however, known that the brightest witch of their generation had saved the Potions' Master. Nor did she understand why. She had seemed quite surprised at the number of children present in the home. Which implied she had not known about his family. Daphne doubted they were otherwise connected by anything. It was reported by the Ministry that Snape had been Dumbledore's man after the fact, though the trial that had followed his miraculous recovery proved that he was not trusted by the other associates of the old wizard. Their formal titles in discussion steered away from any casual relationship, they weren't friendly. So why had she saved him?

The man of the house kept his features emotionless, unreadable. He often did. After 20 years of living beneath Voldemort's thumb, she supposed it had been necessary. At this point, it was surely habit.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair, her fingers curling into her scalp. "Why didn't they ever clear you of that?"

The Potions' Master simply raised an eyebrow. "They could not prove if it was me who did it in the first place. There was nothing to clear me of," The voice was slow and careful. His words weighed.

Did Hermione think him a threat? Was she afraid of him?

Surely not.

The curly-haired witch swallowed thickly. "I'm so sorry, sir," she whispered, her tone strained, her eyes watering. She was hurting for him. She knew his pain.

How she knew his pain was merely another question on the growing list forming in the blond's mind.

Hermione Granger was turning out to be quite the interesting character.

The man seemed to calm slightly. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as he eyed the witch. Her pain had touched him. It had reached through what had been formerly known to be his impenetrable exterior. Hermione shivered under his gaze, something unspoken passing between them again. Just as it had at the table. Daphne set her jaw, trying to understand.

What sort of attachment did the other girl have with her former Head of House?

And why was she feeling jealous about it? She had no right to. She didn't even understand what it was.

Yes, she did. She had been working for the man for months now, and she had never been let into his thoughts as much as Hermione had in the few hours she'd been at the house. Snape remained as unattainable and unreachable as ever. Still the same man she had known as a girl.

Meanwhile, Hermione had him reacting in all sorts of ways with only a few words.

He walked over to the kettle and poured himself a cup of tea, turning back to face the two witches that stood in his kitchen. How odd that he now had two witches -former students, no less- occupying his home. And one of them happened to be Hermione bleeding Granger.

His request to the Ministry for an apprentice had been answered rather quickly. When he had seen the list of names sent to him, he had of course picked the most competent of the lot. Albeit, probably the most insufferable. He had skipped over his own godson.