When the newspapers were delivered in the morning, Snape's dread seemed to have come true- the front page featured a picture of Hermione sporting an enigmatic smile and the word 'MISSING' printed underneath it in bold fonts. Only now, in a surprising turn of events, the subject of his worries was seated right under his nose. She took the paper from him and after reading the headlines, glanced back at him. The wheels have been set into motion- everything was starting to happen the way that they had conjectured.
According to the story that had been planted by Snape, the Hit-Wizards had reported back that they had bungled up the mission but the Ministry couldn't possibly release that information to the press, so they had to pass her off as missing or abducted. It might take them a few days to come to know the truth or they might already be suspicious as to what really happened the other night- nonetheless, Hermione had to stay hidden. And Snape had begrudgingly offered his house for her to stay.
She went through the other articles and saw that people had expressed their opinions about the suspicious disappearance of Hermione Granger not more than a couple of months after the tragic death of her husband Ron Weasley and fingers were getting pointed at the Ministry. The minister had released a statement saying that the best agents had been employed to find her and that they were looking into this matter as their top priority. Hermione also saw a column dedicated to Harry who was seen to be extremely upset and had vowed to find out what happened to his friend at any cost.
Hermione felt bad for him that she couldn't let him know she was all right but she couldn't afford to make contact with anyone on the outside right now. It was lucky that she hadn't told him where she was going when she had left Grimmauld Place- no one knew where she was right now.
But Snape was afraid that the one(s) who was(were) behind this still knew that he had something to do with all this; they had seen Ron exit his house and Hermione come to visit him as well, and had tried to take them both out, they must suspect that Snape knew something. What would it take for them to swoop in right at the moment and take him in for questioning- off the record- and then getting rid of him too?
Right after he had made sure that Hermione was all right, he had applied every kind of precaution available- he had put powerful wards up against the house, set up booby traps and alarms all around and also performed an incantation that made it practically invisible to the naked eye if someone tried to peep in from outside. It wouldn't hold for long, however, it would do for now.
The Ministry were going to be busy investigating Hermione's case for at least the next few days or would have to keep up the pretense of doing it till everything cooled down again. She was sure that Harry would not lose hope and continue his search till he got actual proof that she was dead, however this provided them with the window of opportunity that they needed to get into the Ministry records and take them by surprise.
As per their plan, they started making arrangements for this quest for truth, so to speak. They had to be prepared for all kinds of possibilities since neither of them knew whether they would be able to come out of the Ministry headquarters without attracting attention or would have no choice but to surrender themselves if they get caught. In that case, they intended to publicize their findings to the media and deal with the punishments of illegally trespassing a government agency later.
Hermione set forth the idea of using polyjuice potion and formulated a plan for infiltrating the Ministry that didn't largely differ from her previous instance of doing the same thing while it was under the ascendancy of the Dark Lord and his minions, and Snape concurred with the design. If all went well, then they would find out the person or persons responsible for this and bring him out in public and force him to tell everyone the truth.
But they had to be prepared for things to go sideways as well; if they were found out and yet somehow managed to give them the slip, they would have to remain as fugitives for who knows how long. So they had to take the necessary measures for that possibility too, so that they had everything that they might need for living the life of an outlaw.
The only advantage was that none of them were unfamiliar with that kind of life and the both of them were fully committed to the cause. Hermione was a little ambivalent at first but then she figured that she would have to get used to being around her ex-Potions Master. And he seemed to have grown to tolerate her better over the days that they spent preparing for their journey.
They had apparated together once in the middle of this, only for a brief period, straight inside Hermione's home, in order for her to take a change of clothes, toiletries and other necessities, her old purse that she had used while she and the boys were on the run and some books and muggle money. Snape had mostly emptied out his modest savings from his Gringotts bank account beforehand as well, not sure how long they'd be stuck in their predicament. Hermione couldn't access her account yet as she couldn't risk travelling to the bank.
Snape had chivalrously offered her his bed to sleep in till the day they were to intrude into the Ministry, although Hermione tried to dissuade. "I can take the couch," she said, but he snapped, "Don't argue with me about this too, Granger!" and that was that. But it didn't really matter, since he was invested day and night in brewing potions. He had let her pillage his pantry and cook herself whatever she felt like since he didn't have enough time for proper meals anyway. Usually he just stuffed a mouthful of leftovers and got back to work.
It was a stroke of luck that Snape had already had many potions on the way so that they didn't have to wait a month to get the polyjuice potion ready, but there were batches of it to be made along with other potions that they would want to keep handy in case of an emergency.
After that eventful night, Snape had brusquely sent her off to lie down while he remained busy with brewing. Throughout the next few days, he had been constantly vigilant about Hermione, making sure that there weren't any side-effects related to her concussion and only agreed to embark upon this journey when she assured him that she was in perfect health. Even this morning when she had appeared beside him with a plate of food, he had asked after her and brought her another pain-relief potion, before touching his breakfast.
"Drink this, Granger," he ordered in his usual sardonic way, before returning his attention to his work.
"I thought we would be able to do away with all forms of sophistry by now." she remarked, accepting the vial from him and swallowing the contents. He gave her a sideways glance but chose not to reply. He maintained a stern countenance anyway; in her company he found it easy to resume his pedagogical mannerisms. She realized he was using petulance as a form of deflection of attention from what otherwise might have been considered a thoughtful act.
"Unfortunately, I've not had the opportunity to disguise the taste with some artificial sweeteners today- I'm afraid, I've run out of honey." he said, before she got the chance to complain. But there were other things to deal with at the moment, bigger things that must be his priority right now, yet he was continuing to care for her and provide for her needs. On impulse, she decided to respond to the action rather than the words.
"Thank you," she said mildly, "It was kind of you to take the trouble."
Snape looked at her, as if wondering whether she was mocking him, but when he realized that she wasn't, he silently accepted her gratitude. Then he continued to stir the ladle, his head almost immersed in the cauldron.
Hermione bounced about his shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm not rubbish at potion-making, you know. I hope you haven't forgotten?"
"Oh, I remember very clearly..." he muttered, but didn't ask her to do anything. He had avoided her like that every time she had asked whether she could lend a hand in making the potions. She had gotten the other articles ready but this was his area of expertise. Although, she was eager to be of use.
"Here, let me do that," she voluntarily approached him in order to take hold of the ladle, "While you eat, Severus."
He promptly jerked when she touched his hand and turned to her in exasperation. "Ms. Granger," he articulated, "I had almost convinced myself that being confined with you would not be as unbearable an experience as I thought it would be. I may need to reconsider."
The words were harsh, but the tone lacked the whiplash bite. In fact, she could swear that she caught a hint of bemusement in his eyes. To stop herself from considering the implications of this, she moved over and picked up one of the roots.
"Shall I get on with chopping these then?"
She was relentless. He shook his head disbelievingly, but then conceded by handing over the potion to her. "No. If you must...just continue stirring this," he asserted, as he took a quick break. While taking a bite out of his toast and a gulp of coffee, he observed her.
She monitored the change in colour and added ingredients at exactly right times, proving her capabilities, making Snape satisfied enough to trust her with bottling the finished product, while he moved on to other things. When he took up the task of cutting the roots, she watched his hands work their magic and admitted to herself that he was significantly better at this than her. They continued in something like companionable silence.
She watched him work; he looked like he was back at his material. Although he was known to have an interest in spell-casting and charms, he had an undeniable talent for potion-making. If it wasn't for his obsession with the dark arts, and the role that he had to play during the war, he might have been an apothecary by now with worldwide fame. Although he was a gifted teacher as well, but his nature didn't really make teaching the ideal profession for him.
And he hadn't gone back to his old job at Hogwarts after his near-death experience. After everything that he had gone through, it was understandable that one might choose to not go back to their past lives, especially if he wanted to forget everything that had happened. But if he was currently unemployed, the question arose in Hermione's mind, then how was it that he could manage to make ends meet?
She finished labeling the vials and arranged them in a neat row in a manner which she knew he would approve and slid closer to him, leaning on the table he was working at. He peaked at her warily out of the corner of his eyes but continued silently with what he was doing, knowing that obviously she had something to say.
"Can I ask you something?"
He didn't reply, but looked up from the chopping board once to acknowledge her question.
"You said, that you have been away from Hogwarts, and it looks to me that- that you're not engaged with any...um, jobs." She checked whether he thought her question to be impertinent, "So, how do you have the means for...all this?"
She gestured with her hand to imply their surroundings. He continued to dice and skin and chop, but it seemed like he was deciding whether or not to share his thoughts. He was not even comfortable with getting on a first-name basis with her, and this was somewhat of a personal question. At the end he said, "Apart from their salty demeanor, I also inherited this house and a sum of money from my parents. It's pointless to let it just acquire rust over time, seeing as it is there are no other claimants...and I doubt there ever will be..."
"But what have you been up to for all these years?" she asked, "Don't get me wrong...I mean, you have every right to do as you please. But I was just curious...what is it that you do these days?"
It was perfectly reasonable to want to live a life on his own terms after serving as a puppet most of his life, but Snape simply sitting idle seemed like a waste of his talents.
"Well, if you are so curious, I feel obligated to tell you that I occasionally help out St. Mungos' and other such infirmaries with medicinal services and experimental drugs and treatment of the absolute hopeless cases at their sick bays." he apprised, "If I feel like it."
Hermione was surprised by this knowledge, but knowing him- she shouldn't have been; surely he wouldn't want to take orders from anyone anymore and he was temperamental, but he was a philanthropist at heart- being a silent messiah was just the sort of thing that he would do. And that explained why he had so many potions and pharmaceutical supplies halfway done or already finished. And he always kept himself fit, but one would assume that he might have let himself go a bit, but he didn't look like he was completely out of action.
Her wonderment seemed to have offended him. He looked up from the cauldron with an affronted frown. "Wait, did you think that I didn't do anything? Simply whiling away my days squandering my family wealth and drowning myself in alcohol?"
"I didn't say that-"
"I bet you regret saving my life," he remarked, "Now that you're wondering whether your attempt was in vain, seeing as it is I attach no sentimental value to it and have been spending my time in meaningless frivolities..."
Her mouth dropped open in a gape at his sudden mentioning of the event that had transpired between them at the Shrieking Shack. She knew he would confront her one day about doing it against his wishes but she had hoped to avoid him permanently so that he never got a chance to do so.
"Well I don't have to provide excuses to the likes of you." he continued, disgruntled.
"Neither am I asking for any. You brought it up," she said incensed, "And for the record, I don't regret saving your life." She realized he was in a mood now and it was better to leave him alone, but turned back again to ask, "Are you doing this simply to get a sense of purpose back in your life?"
He dropped the rod into the potion with a splash and turned to glower at her. "Do you think I would get your husband killed for that- just a sense of purpose? So that I can be a hero again? Is that what you think of me?!"
"No, sir," she said in earnest, "Absolutely not. Believe it or not I have always thought very highly of you- I wouldn't bother with you if I didn't."
Her predilection and compassion changed his mind and her addressing him respectfully seemed to fizz out his temper somewhat. He watched her as she took a breath and calmly continued. "What I was trying to say was that you don't have to feel obliged to do anything. You are perfectly at liberty to continue as if nothing ever happened and I would accept your hospitality and consideration for me all these days as payment enough."
He assumed his cool and composed self but her indisposition troubled him. "If your mind is at a quandary regarding collaborating with me, that's a different issue," he said, "But I think I can be a good consort and the perfectly expendable character in case things don't quite go according to plan."
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you think I agreed to go out of my own volition?" He looked at her like they were back in class and as if he were explaining a simple solution to a problem. "Like I said, I have no successors, no family ties, nothing to hold me back. I have no other commitments and no one will exactly miss me if I'm gone. Which makes me virtually unafraid of the consequences and totally without fear- I daresay, just like you. I'm committing myself to a good cause and if I have to lay my life down for it...then so be it. That is what I had originally intended after all."
Hermione grew sullen after hearing his words; she was contemplative for the rest of the day, amazed at yet another instance of her growing empathy and relatability with Snape. After their somewhat of a heated banter that morning, she didn't cross paths with him again.
Later that night, he entered her room to curtly let her know, "We leave tomorrow."
At the end, they were only carrying two pieces of luggage; Hermione her magically enlarged-from-the-inside beaded bag and Snape a satchel that he had also performed the extension charm on. They double-checked everything and made last minute preparations after which they were supposed to apparate out to some scarcely used alley close to the Ministry office.
Right before leaving, Hermione caught Snape stealing a last look at his home, roving his eyes over the walls and sighing heavily at the bookcases and the shelves. She didn't know whether he had any emotional attachment to this dreary house but after all, it was his childhood home, containing his early memories- no matter how sad they may be- and he had no idea whether he would ever be back there again.
"I'll understand, if- if you're having second thoughts..." she said genially.
He shook his head as if even the thought was ridiculous. "I'm not getting cold feet."
"I'm not saying that." She was tranquil. "I wouldn't think any less of you if you chose not to go. You've already done so much. You can still live your life peacefully; I didn't save your life only to throw you back into peril."
"Perhaps, take it as my way of repaying you." he said diligently.
"You don't owe me anything."
"Still," he was adamant, "I got you into this mess and I'll get you out."
"I don't hold you responsible for anything. "she declared, "Ron died investigating a matter that he was tipped about, but that was his choice. If the letter had found me- as was intended- I would've probably done the same."
"Then it would've been your death I would have been responsible for."
Hermione revered the affliction in his eyes. She mitigated in a somewhat lighter tone, "Then you and him would have come together to solve the murder mystery."
He snorted. "I don't know...me and Ronald teaming up? I don't see that happening."
She nudged, in a teasing way. "I bet you wouldn't have seen this happening either, just a couple of months back."
There was a brief amused smile on his face as he glanced at her. Then he rearranged his features. "The point is no one else should've had to deal with it. It was supposed to be me. Someone- I don't know who and I seriously condemn their lack of judgement- had trusted me to get the job done. It could've been entirely at random or it could be just a ploy to get rid of me for good," he said a little dolefully, "But I can tell you without a doubt that if I had gotten myself killed before the game even began, no one would have come to avenge my death. And who knows...the secret might have been buried with me forever."
His self-deprecatory words and despondent view of the world stirred her. Hermione approached him and gently assuaged. "I know you think you have no one beside you and that the whole world's against you. I hope to prove you wrong one day."
Snape beheld the buoyant smile on her face and didn't know how to respond. He threw on his cloak with a flourish and cleared his throat. "Whenever you're ready, Ms. Granger."
Hermione secured her wand on her self and took his outstretched arm. As soon as their hands touched, they disapparated with a pop.