Title: Up Late
Author:MelWil
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR - I make no profit from this.
Feedback: Yes please - lina_wilson@hotmail.com
Summary: Snape's been sending letters that Hermione doesn't want to know about.

~*~

The opening of the door disturbed her.

Before it had closed she knew exactly who was standing there. Seven years of being with him and she knew exactly how his cloak would swish when he stepped inside a room.

"Good evening Severus." She placed a marker in her book (a populist Muggle fiction - her parents wanted her to lighten up) and closed it, looking up at him.

"Good evening." He sat in the armchair next to her. "You're up late."

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh." He paused. "I was sending out the letters for the new first years."

"It's that time of the year again?" The holidays always went too quickly.

"Hermione." He took one of her hands and squeezed it. She looked at him in surprise, usually they confined any signs of affection to the privacy of the bedroom.

"What?"

"The Potter child will be starting this year." His voice was gentle and she let it roll over her.

"Oh." She hadn't realised so many years had passed. She didn't feel old enough to be teaching Harry's son.

"Albus wants to discuss him with us before the school year starts. Apparently we'll have to upgrade the wards on the building."

"I wonder if he looks like Harry?" She mused. "That would be . . . strange."

Severus snorted softly. "Knowing the Potter genes."

She felt a smile creeping around the corner of her lips. “Never under estimate the power of Weasley blood.”

“So the boy will look like a Potter with red hair.” Severus concluded.

“And he'll be sorted into Gryffindor.”

“And I'll take lots of points from him.”

Hermione laughed as Severus squeezed her hand again. She wished they had more relaxed moments. They were both so serious and proper most of the time.

“Have you spoken to the Weasleys lately?”

His question halted her laughter. “Not the older ones. I get an owl when there's a new child - but I haven't seen them since . . .”

He regarded her solemnly as she tried to ignore the memories of Harry's funeral that were rushing through her head.

“You have some Weasleys in Gryffindor, don't you?” His tone was measured and even; he didn't want to upset her.

She nodded. “Bill, Charlie and George all have children here. I don't have an awful lot of contact with them though. They're not as much trouble as their fathers or uncles. Things have changed.”

She let the silence fall over them, feeling the heaviness of her book on her lap and the calloused surface of Severus' thumb, caressing the side of her hand.

“Will you hold me tonight?” She whispered.

He took the book from her, glancing at it in disgust, and helped her to her feet. “Of course.” He extinguished the lamps as they left the room, his arm pulling away from her, out of habit more than precaution. “You know,” he said as they walked through the empty halls of the school. “It may not be as bad as you think.”

“Since when did we have that kind of luck?”