Vagary

{Three}

The first thing Hermione did when her feet were sunk into the carpet of Spinner's End was pull her wand out and vanish the ash on her clothes. The second was a precursory glance about the place in an attempt to look familiar with it. As far as she knew, he was a brilliant man, intelligent enough to fool the darkest wizard of the age and become a Master in Potions, so she was going to expect that from him whether it was true or not. Better to be safe rather than to be sorry if she underestimated him.

"Hermione?"

Her nerves kicked in exactly then, heart hammering so loudly she wouldn't be surprised if he could already tell she was a foreign mind. Only then did she recall he was a powerful Legilimens, though not gifted the ability. It meant he still needed his wand and eye-contact. She prayed he wouldn't do that to his own wife.

"Yes," and immediately with the break of her voice, Hermione knew she'd been caught.

"Are you alright? Do you feel faint?" Came his voice, much closer than before.

Why would she be feeling faint?

In the few moments of her silence, he'd finally come before her, all the imposing and imperious dungeon bat she recalled him to be. Her ears burned from the flush that came over her wondering why she ever would have thought this would be a good idea to lie.

"No, I feel fine," she answered regardless, picking back up her war-era skills to assuage him with a smile.

"Right," he responded, as equally unsure of her as she was of him in that moment. Though, even if he looked suspicious, he gently took her hand and placed a kiss to her lips, walking past her to the kitchen where he began to boil a kettle.

"Sorry I was gone for so long, I stopped by with Harry to say hi to Draco."

Moving towards the kitchen with caution, she watched his entire body move with his laugh, him turning back to flash her a smile before saying, "Of course you did."

"He says hello," she replied, letting out a sigh of relief.
Snape replied with nothing less than a hum, his eyes looking over her as if to find a hair out of place to incriminate her with. With little seeming to be actually off, Hermione skirted from under his gaze and took off her autumn sweater she'd had on since the cafe.

"Are you sure that you are feeling well? Your demeanor is shaky, at best."

Turning, Hermione smiled, however weakly, the action hard enough when it felt as though a ghost was taunting her, his looks of passion and love scaring the wits out of her. What she wouldn't give to be in Harry's shoes instead, because at least his temporary spouse wasn't five years dead in their life.

"I'm brilliant, promise. Thank you for worrying, Severus."

"I always worry for you, witch," he said factually, stepping forward to embrace her.

"Right," she said below her breath, unsure how that had come to be a term of endearment, but welcomed the hug if only because she was truly in need of one.

"Don't forget about dinner tonight, if you want to start readying," he reminded her, pulling back from their embrace. He then kissed the top of her head with a smile that looked dreadfully odd. "I know you appreciate the time to fight with your hair."

Hermione couldn't seem to fathom that his smile had ever even existed in the other world, but she gave him a safe giggle and turned towards the stairs, praying with all her might that their bedroom was on the next floor.
When she reached the top, there were only two rooms from which she had to choose, only the first of her battles. Part of her felt bad for just... existing in this other version of her's life, entering her bedroom and kissing her husband, but in the end it shouldn't make a difference. Now she stood in the middle of what was honestly a far more welcoming space than she'd imagined, and her guilt abated. Her and Harry would get out, then they could move on.