It was pouring rain that evening, and Severus couldn't really blame the sky. The day had been just as morose as the weather, and while he couldn't have done anything were it otherwise, that didn't make the rain any less of a nuisance.

The continuous pattering of the droplets was white noise by the end of the day, but as he sat for his evening tea, it came back into focus, thunder rumbling with it like accompaniment. If there were any one muggle skill he'd wish to learn as an adult, piano would most certainly be it. He would spend hours upon days playing for himself, tapping the keys as though it were second nature. Charming the damned instrument to do it just wasn't the same.

So, the rain, ruffling of the paper, and the clink of his cup against the saucer were the only sounds he heard that late evening... Until the knock on his door that is.

Whoever the bloody hell it was could rot outside in the downpour for all he cared. No one ever knocked on his door unless they were selling something, so he leaned back into his chair and took another sip of tea.

His ignoring it did not make it go away, however.

Eventually, its persistence was more than he could handle. With a sigh, and his wand in-hand, Severus stood to check out who in Merlin's name decided they needed to be at his door at 9:14 in the evening.

He cracked the door open, the violent sound of rain hitting his ears, and the sight of one Hermione Granger soaked at his doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, whipping the door open, but not exactly letting her inside either.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," he muttered, stepping aside and letting the assaulting rain be his only sound for a brief moment before closing the door and following after the rogue woman in his house.

She was seated before the fire in his sitting room when he found her, a drying charm already cast, her shoes on the stone, and her hands outstretched.

"Why are you here?"

She startled, looking back at him with wide, brown eyes.

For someone one promotion away from being Minister for Magic, she looked quite helpless.

"I had to stop you."

Now, he was rarely ever confused in his lifetime, the reaction did not come to him very often, but he was certainly dismayed currently. What in Merlin's name was she stopping him from? Witches and their... insanity.

"Miss Granger, from what on this planet could you stop me from doing if I so wished to do it?"

"Nothing," she said, obviously frustrated as she stood, looking quite cold despite being dry and warmed from the fire.

"Well, then your trip has been for nothing, which is exactly what I am up to as of late, so even if you were capable, then your journey would have been futile."

"You don't have to spare me, Master Snape," she addressed him formally, as though they were interacting at the Ministry brunch, "I read the papers."

He was quite clueless, but that did not suit him at all, so he played her game if only to receive a glimmer of what it was she was referencing.

"Ah, yes. Well, why in bloody hell do you think you can stop me?"

Flustered, aggravated, and maybe even a touch sad, Miss Granger pointed at him ferociously, "I wasn't going insane these past few months, I know you were hinting at something with me, and I fell for it, too! Hook, line, sinker, you could have asked me months and months on end, but you didn't! I've turned down seven wizards, and even a witch, because I was ignorant enough to believe that you fancied me! Well, I still think you do, but you going off to get married is not the way to show it!"

First of all, if Severus had been drinking tea, it would have been expelled from his mouth in an instant at the word of marriage, and secondly, he was terrified that Granger had picked up such inclinations from him when he dutifully was attempting to keep them hidden. Still, where in sodding hell had she gotten marriage from?

"I assure you, I'm hardly even engaged."

"Well, you're making a huge—" she paused, as if not thinking the conversation would reach this point, "You're not?"

"No," he told her, more cynically than he'd meant it, but it was his fashion.

She breathed in heavily, then spoke quietly, "Oh. Don't you read the papers?"

"Hardly. I enjoy the town's paper, mundane and full of obituaries."

Hermione cringed, but then seemed to excite somewhat.

"That's very odd of you, Master Snape," she commented.

"Not much more of an oddity than you attempting to stop me from attending a wedding that isn't happening," Severus said with the slightest smile.

Did this mean she'd been inclined towards his advances? For heaven's sake, he thought when she started to avoid him a few weeks ago he'd gone too far.

"I've made such a fool of myself."

"Quite the delicate fool, then," he replied seamlessly, wondering if he'd merely scare her off for real this time.

"Delicate?" She asked, "Hardly, I helped defeat a Dark Wizard at the age of eighteen."

"How about beautiful?"

The word was unnatural for Severus Snape, and he obviously tripped over it as he spoke, hoping not to look the part of the fool now.

"Only if you dropped the fool after it."

"Never."

Hermione stepped forward, coming intoxicatingly close to Severus as he stood still, not caring to believe that this was how his gloomy day-in was turning out.

"It'll have to do then," she whispered, hand on his chest, lips a breath away from his....

The bed that morning was awfully warm, and for some obscene reason the covers were heavy, and had very curly hair attached to them all of a sudden.

Only when Severus opened his eyes to blaring sunlight and a young witch on his skin did he remember what had happened the evening before.

He pushed her off, looking at her with a curious glance. Every part of the room surprised him, Hermione's untidiness in undressing, the ridiculously immense amount of light coming from his windows, how much heat one woman could radiate off her body, and the fact that he was undressed with said woman.

There were no complaints about anything, bar maybe the sunlight. Even that, however, was something that Spinner's End got so little of, and he cherished the moment as he so seldom did.

Hermione did not wake for some time, and when she did, she yawned like a giant cat, stretching in almost the same fashion.

"Morning," she said groggily.

"Just morning?" He pestered the sleepy girl.

"Bugger off, good morning."

"Better," he joked, and turned to hold her, pulling her close and deciding a sunny day was just as good for staying in as a dreary one was.

A/N

Short, sweet, and to the point for my celebrating 400 followers and over 80K reads on Professor!!!