In Sickness and in Health

{13}

It was a cold Saturday in November, when all the leaves were basically on the ground, and snow was threatening as each day brought them closer to December. Hermione loved the warmth and quiet in her apartment as she starred at the grey sky, clouds billowing around the city as though they were to stay forever. It was rare they saw the sun.

Hermione had recently passed a law with the Wizengamot and Kingsley, to reduce the amount of restrictions on werewolves, and she was proud to have done good work.

Ronald Weasley had gone back to being an Auror a few days prior, but he was so behind now that there was a lot of discourse between him and the department. Ron was a hothead for certain, and the work of an Auror was supposed to be more geared towards one like Harry's demeanor. Harry, by information Hermione was not supposed to know, was up for a promotion in the upcoming days with his excelling work.

Now, when Severus had asked if Hermione had ever thought of teaching, she was much more assured in Harry's ability to do so. They valued him too much as an Auror, however, to ever let him go do something like become a professor. She had brought it up to him, and he just laughed it off, knowing his lectures that he gave to all the students once a term was enough.

Ron, from what Harry would tell her, was becoming increasingly more frustrated with him now as well. Harry didn't like getting into riffs, and it was obvious by the way he simply let Ginny ignore him. Their relationship had been so pure at one point, Hermione hated to feel like the cause of his misfortune. Harry assured her he was fine, as Ron became angrier with him and the silence increased, but she still worried.

Severus encouraged her to talk to Ginny, to make sure the redhead returned to Harry so their relationship wasn't ruined as well, but that was no easy task. Considering she traveled for Quidditch, and that she could easily incinerate any envelope that entered her vision, Hermione struggled to get a hold of her. It hurt, really, because they had been good friends at one point or another. Sure, she was her ex-boyfriends little sister, but Hermione had always gotten along with Ginny.

Severus seemed anxious when she informed him she could not get in contact with her, but he merely dismissed it after a few minutes and offered her tea to calm her nerves.

The most that had happened on the front of her friendship with Severus was a hug in congratulations after she'd passed the werewolf law. It had made him very proud of her, and he opened his arms like it was normal. The hug was normal, really, bar the fact that Hermione could feel his chest beating erratically. She had not wanted to leave his embrace, but he pulled away and she had no choice in the matter.

Regardless of the want, Hermione and Severus stayed good friends. They talked and conversed regularly, and it was nice to have him, seeing as Ron was no longer there to provide company.

Hermione grew to feel bad for Ron, especially as being an Auror slipped from within his grasp. He had woken from nearly three months of nothingness to a completely different world in some aspects, and though he had been awful to her, so had Severus at one point.

She would forgive Ron eventually, that was sure, but not until he could admit what he had said was wrong. That was a while away, and Severus had agreed she should be patient and let him come to her if he ever chose to.

The days went on normally in some way, when she would eat lunch with a happy Harry and then go on to do her work, then go home to a book and a small meal. Those were days she cherished most of all, because they tended to be easy and make her think little of the stress of Ron and her want for Severus.

Some days it was an unbearable sadness that Severus was not with her like she wanted. He was perfect for her, really, and as the days dulled into evenings, and time passed, she only wanted him more. There were points where she could have broken, where laughing with him could have been followed by an 'I love you,' or when they were so close she could grab his hand. Dinners and discussions only made her want to lean over the table and caress his lips with hers, wishing that all those weeks ago she had merely completed the action. Their first almost-kiss could have been real, and she would have known what it felt like to be consumed by him.