Harry was handing her one of the wooden tile holders when she finally found her voice. Unable to mask her shock, she whispered, "Harry, have I gone mad or are you and Professor Snape . . . more than friends?"
"You might've gone mad, but you're not mistaken," Harry softly answered, appearing uneasy about how she'd respond.
Since she didn't know how to react, she just sat there. Harry and Professor Snape were . . . lovers?
"Are you shocked?" Harry asked.
"Yes," she couldn't stop the truth from spilling out.
"Is it just surprise or are you . . . upset or -"
She'd never seen him so worried, not over anything that had to do with their relationship. Recognizing how important Snape must be to him, she reached out and squeezed his hand before Harry could say anything else. "I'm just startled. That's all. I never thought . . . ."
"Me, neither," Harry said. "Nor Severus, for that matter. I think it's a shock to us all."
"You seem . . . ." Glowing with love didn't seem appropriate, so she settled on, ". . .quite happy."
Harry glanced towards his bathroom door, as if to make sure they were still alone, and then said, "I am. I never would have thought that we'd get on the way we do, but we're good together, Hermione. I know it's very strange, but -"
But he was in love. She could see it shining in his eyes and hear it in his voice. In love . . . with Professor Snape.
Harry was so damn good, so lovable, and yet, no one he dated ever seemed to be able to see past his unusual powers. For years, she'd hoped he'd find someone who would be strong enough to love him as he was. Now he had. It wasn't someone she'd ever imagined Harry being attracted to, but if Professor Snape made Harry's eyes shine like that and put that smile on his face, there was no way she could begrudge him that happiness, no matter who caused it.
She could feel how worried Harry was that she'd disapprove. It was touching, really, how important her opinion was to him, but, then, she felt the same about Harry. If Harry had disapproved of her relationship with Ron, it would have made their lives hell all those years ago, and probably have broken Ron and her up. But, even though the change in his two best friends' feelings for each other had left him a little isolated, Harry had always supported them. She could hardly fail to do the same for him now. Stars knew; he was going to need it.
"There's nothing strange about it," she insisted, dropping to her knees beside him to give him a hug. "I'm so happy for you."
"You are?" Harry sounded stunned, as anyone who'd brought Severus Snape home for his family's approval might be upon receiving instant support.
She knew that Harry's happiness wasn't going to be the most important thing to everyone they knew. All most of their friends were going to see was that Harry had taken up with the nastiest person they knew. He was going to get a lot of flack over this. She need only think of Ron to imagine how hard it was going to be for him. Ron wasn't even happy that Harry was chumming around with Snape. How was he going to react once he found out that they were lovers?
Not well, that much she was sure of. She couldn't change her husband, but she could at least give Harry one person on his side. He was going to need it.
"Like anyone who loves you and who's seen you suffering these last nine years could begrudge you happiness wherever you find it!" she huffed. "You're my best friend. Of course, I'm happy for you, dummy."
"Ron won't be," Harry said, voicing the concern she'd had herself a moment ago.
"Not at first. You know how he is. He'll come around, though. I'll talk to him in the morning about it, if you like?"
"You don't think I should tell him myself?" Harry asked.
"You know how he flies off the handle at the best of times. He's had so little sleep lately that he's got no control at all. Let me tell him. It will make it easier all around."
"If you're certain."
She gave him another quick squeeze and started to pull back. Both she and Harry jumped as an "Ahhum," sound of throat-clearing rang out behind them.
Snape stood a few feet away. His stiff figure appeared uncertain as he looked down at them.
"Are you ready for another game, Severus?" Harry asked, sitting back as though nothing untoward had occurred.
With a nod, Snape took his seat on the couch.
Harry handed her a wooden tile holder and silently levitated a cushion for her to sit on from where a number were piled on the far side of the long, grey couch.
Once again, Snape made no remark upon the instantaneous magic.
She moved her cushion to the end of the coffee table, so that neither man would have a clear view of her tiles, and then they began to play.
At first, Professor Snape was as stiff and foreboding as he was at staff meetings, but Harry kept up a constant stream of chatter as they played that seemed to relax him.
". . . and then Wilson turned to pick up what was left of his DADA textbook, only it transformed into a swarm of ladybugs that flew right at his face. He was so unnerved by the duel that he yelped like it was a grindylow and ducked under the table, forever ruining his image as class bully."
Hermione laughed at Harry's silly anecdote. She peeked over at Snape. He no longer looked like he was on trial for his life. He wasn't nearly as at ease as she'd seen him when she'd first popped her head into the room, but he was a good deal less tense. Though he was obviously trying to appear his normal self, he didn't seem to be able to take his eyes off Harry for any length of time.
She froze as he caught her watching him watch Harry. Snape's normal modus operandi at a moment like that would have been a scathing, sarcastic comment to put the other person in their place. However, tonight his dark eyes lowered to the board and a faint blush touched his cheeks. When he looked back up at her he didn't attack. Snape simply sat there, an expectant air surrounding him, as though he were the one anticipating reproach. Startled, she realized that he was just as nervous as Harry. Perhaps more so, for he had no reason to trust her.
Not knowing how to apologize for her rudeness without making a huge issue out of it, she held his gaze and gave him a shy smile.
"It's your turn, Severus," Harry said, looking from one of them to the other in confusion.
Snape laid down the tiles S-Y-C-O-P-H in front of Harry's last word, ANT. It was all she could do not to burst out in laughter at the horrified look on Harry's face.
Professor Snape's play gave her an opening which made the useless tiles in her hand suddenly seem like a winning hand. Biting her lip, because she knew how Harry would react, she quietly laid her tiles down to spell ZEPHYR around Snape's Y.
Harry's crestfallen expression made her laugh aloud. As she looked up at Snape, she caught his thin mouth twitching at the ends.
"I'm doomed," Harry groaned and laid down ATS after her R.
"Editorial comment, Potter?" Snape enquired.
Harry gave him a mock glare and rose to his feet. "Be back in a minute. No cheating, you two."
Snape snorted at the suggestion.
Once Harry had left for the loo, an awkward silence fell between them.
His eyes fixed on her, Snape softly said, "He told you."
"Yes," she answered, giving him a nervous smile. She had no clue what to say to the man. She'd known him for nearly sixteen years and, yet, she didn't know a thing about what he was really like. All she knew was the grim face Snape presented the world and the dark past that even now caused strangers to whisper as he passed them on the street.
Snape appeared to be similarly tongue-tied, but he seemed to force himself past it to demand in a harsh, defensive whisper, "Is that all you've got to say on the subject?"
Wanting to put him at ease, for his own sake as much as for Harry's, she offered. "Harry's been alone a long time, Professor. It's good to see him so happy. Thank you for that."
"You're thanking me?" Snape was staring at her as though he suspected some type of prank.
"Well, yes," she answered.
"You can't really expect me to believe that you -"
"All I want is to see Harry happy. He's laughing and joking . . . you did that for him. That's all that matters to me."
"It can't be as easy as that. Don't you want to . . . quiz me on my intentions?" Snape snapped. Obviously, he'd been prepared to face a major inquisition. "Or make certain he's not under Imperius?"
"I expect your 'intentions' are the same as those of anyone involved in a relationship," she began.
"You think we have a relationship? How do you know I'm not simply using him?" Snape challenged.
He really was determined to present himself in the worst possible light, she realized. Beginning to understand precisely what Harry saw in Severus Snape, she softly answered, "Because I know Harry. He wouldn't permit himself to be used that way. More importantly, I know you. You're not the kind of man who would use an Unforgivable for personal gain. And even if all of that wasn't true, I can see how deeply Harry cares for you."
That seemed to derail him totally. "You can?"
Was it possible he couldn't, she wondered. Holding his gaze, she answered in as gentle a tone as she could manage, "Yes, I can."
Snape stared at her, searching her features. Finally, he said, "I didn't believe any of his friends would . . . welcome this news."
"It probably won't be happy news for a lot of people, but it is for me. I'm glad for you both." She broke off as Harry entered the sitting room.
"Telling all my deep dark secrets, are you?" Harry joked as he folded himself onto his cushion and picked up his tiles.
"Every last one of them," she said.
"Quite appalling, really," Professor Snape surprised her by joining in.
"Talking about appalling, did you make your play yet, Severus?" Harry asked.
"No, I thought I'd wait for you to return. You'll appreciate this one," Snape answered and then laid down the tiles H-Y-R-O-I-D under the T in Harry's RATS.
"I'm doomed, totally doomed," Harry lamented.
"You may just be to SCRABBLE what Neville Longbottom was to Potions, Potter," Snape said.
She tried not to laugh, because the comment wasn't kind to either Harry or Neville, but there was some truth in it. She laid down her own U-B-R-I-S under Snape's H and then watched poor Harry put down O-B under her B.
"At least nothing's exploded yet," Harry said, and then made one of his Bs go up in a puff of smoke like an Exploding Snap card.
*~*~*
"Harry, SNIFT isn't a word," Professor Weasley gently pointed out after Potter laid down his tiles.
"I'm desperate here. Work with me, Hermione," Harry pleaded with an endearing mock pathos that set the pair of Gryffindors to chuckling.
Until quite recently, the amount of laughing Potter and his friends had always done when together had irritated Severus immensely. He'd considered them immature and undignified. At least, that was what he'd always told himself. It was a far more acceptable reason than the envy he was beginning to suspect it had truly been. There was nothing like the sound of laughter to accentuate how alone a person truly was, especially someone who had suffered the mockery of others. Even laughter could be used as a weapon by those with the requisite skill. However, these two didn't appear to indulge in such cruel jests. Their interplay was harmless. Hermione and Harry's jokes were made at their own expense more often than each other's.
Severus was intrigued by the subtleties of their relationship. Time and again, Granger would scold or praise Harry with an underlying affection and love that practically shone off her face, and that Potter accepted as his due. For all that they were the same age, Hermione appeared to have an almost maternal approach to Harry, or a nurturing that Severus assumed was maternal. His own mother had never possessed such instincts. Perhaps it was a quality shared by women in general. He'd never had any female friends when young. Once grown, his female acquaintances would never have dared be so familiar as to comment on his behaviour. Or if they had, it would not have been with the fondness Hermione displayed towards Potter.
Severus had never thought that he'd enjoy such a simple pursuit as this SCRABBLE game, but the time they'd spent playing the Muggle game had been totally engrossing. It wasn't simply the challenge of creating words with the random letters he pulled from the little bag of tiles. Tonight the impossible had happened. He appeared to have been accepted into the Gryffindor ghetto. Both Potter and Hermione Weasley were making an effort to include him in every one of their jokes. Each of them might be aiming their teasing banter at their lifelong friend, but both of them were going out of their way to catch Severus' eye and include him in the exchange.
Even more astonishingly, his own feeble, awkward offerings were openly accepted. Severus couldn't recall the last time he'd had to try so hard not to laugh at such antics, or the last time his own attempts at humour had met with such success with anyone but Harry.
It was strange, but he felt closer to both Potter and Hermione Weasley for having spent this time with them. Severus couldn't help but be impressed with Potter's good grace in the face of such overwhelming defeat, time and again, and Hermione's staunch loyalty as she cheered Potter on even as she slaughtered him on the board.
If nothing else, this childish game had shown him that Harry was Gryffindor to his very soul. With his degree of power, Potter could easily have altered his tiles into any combination of letters he wanted before laying them down and won every game, without either of his companions ever having been the wiser. But Harry continued to place such words as DOG and BAR on the board, losing every gambit. Severus didn't fool himself into believing that Potter wasn't bright enough to accomplish a little substitution. Potter possessed both the vocabulary and skill to cheat to win. He simply had too much honour to do so.
