I.

Diagon Alley. November.

The coldest November on record, that's what the newspaper said. Hermione was inclined to believe them. She could feel the cold cutting through her jumper. Her nose felt like it was going to fall off. But like everything else in her life Hermione had to brave it, this time for Christmas gifts.

Thankfully, Diagon Alley was quiet except for the wind. Winter winds, the sort of winds which signaled something magical was about to happen. Hermione laughed softly, she was beginning to sound like her mother. By the age of twenty-four Hermione had seen more magical things than any one human had a right to. All she lacked now was direction and someone to share those magical things with. But she doubted she would find either anytime soon.

After the war Hermione sat for her NEWTS, she spent time at the Burrow with Ron, visited Harry; none of it felt right anymore. Not that she didn't love the boys of course, but after Hogwarts there was something missing. England didn't have Wizarding universities; rumors were that Dumbledore had been gathering the resources to open the first not far from Hogwarts—the dream had died with him. Since Hogwarts, Hermione had ceased to have a purpose in the Wizarding world. Voldemort was dead. The time for adventure was over—so why did she feel so lost?

"My apologies" Hermione heard the voice too late as she stumbled forward. As luck would have it a strong calloused hand caught her elbow, steering her upright before she could hit the cobblestones.

Hermione turned to smile up at her rescuer only to find herself face to face with Severus Snape. They both nodded awkwardly in greeting, Hermione blushing as he helped her straighten her hat.

"It's good to see you Headmaster." And so it was. Hermione had given Hogwarts and its current headmaster a lot of thought recently.

"I could say the same Miss Granger." He shifted from foot to foot discreetly.

Since the war there had been a bond between the two. Not something anyone would acknowledge of course, nothing remotely worth talking about, but there it was. Few knew that Hermione had saved Severus Snape's life; in fact, no one knew outside of Snape and herself. She had wanted it that way. At first the great bat of the dungeons was resentful, had taken to berating her furiously whenever they met at one of the yearly parties.

After his name had been cleared and he retook his rightful position as headmaster of Hogwarts (also her doing—though none would dare say so), Severus Snape no longer stopped her in the streets to remind her of what a miserable know-it-all she was. Not to say that the man was anything less than a bastard. He still hated Harry and Ron with a passion—he just hated her less. A perk that Hermione enjoyed on the few occasions they bumped into each other in public.

"How is Hogwarts?" she enjoyed the asking, even if the reply was always the same.

"Dunderheads, the lot of them." She felt the warmth of his hand as it brushed against her cheek; the skin continued to tingle after it was gone.

"You haven't changed a bit Headmaster."

They stood at the entrance to the bookstore awkwardly neither knowing quite what to say. It was the usual way of things. One can only make polite chit chat for so long before you run out of things to say. 'That is when the interesting tidbits come out' she thought wistfully. The headmaster never allowed it to get that far. And so she made her usual apologies: things to do, presents to buy, and left him be.

It took effort not to continue the conversation since he followed her through the threshold, but the holidays were coming and it would not do to dawdle. Besides, Severus Snape hadn't changed that much; he was still the bitter, tormented professor she had always known—the one who had never seemed to enjoy her company. If he tolerated her now it was best not to push her luck.

Shopping for books her parents would enjoy took hours, and was not at all aided by the sneaky glances stolen through the bookshelves when the headmaster wasn't looking. Snape had never been a handsome man; as the youngest professor at Hogwarts he rightfully should have been the fantasy of many a girl—the fact that he wasn't was a testimony to the severity of his looks. Hermione herself had found his looks visually appalling as a child, but then she never would have entertained a fantasy about a professor. As an adult however…

"Miss Granger, have you found all that you need?" the clerk asked obliviously.

Hermione blushed madly and rushed to the register with her purchases. It wasn't right to be thinking of the professor that way—especially without his express permission. Even if he did look a bit like Alan Rickman, the only actor she had ever wanted to shag.

"Have a good day, Miss Granger."

Hermione thanked the clerk with a kind smile. The girl looked like she was working her way through Hogwarts. If only she could find a job in the Wizarding world. The ministry was hiring she supposed, but she didn't want to be an auror. She didn't know what she wanted to do. She missed Hogwarts to be sure, but she missed learning more.

"Oh no!" Hermione lurched forward, cursing the slippery step as she tumbled onto the ground, her parcels falling about her into the thin layer of snow.

"Thank heavens you weren't this clumsy at potions."

Hermione blushed as her eyes landed on the dragon hide boots of the headmaster. Somewhere in the seven years since the war, Snape had decided to buy something new for himself. They were a fine pair of boots; she wondered how much they had set him back. Of course, probably nothing considering the monetary compensation he received for his part in the war—an idea Hermione had passed along to the ministry before returning to the muggle world.

"Miss Granger?"

The same hand that had brushed her cheek hours earlier was reaching down to grasp her own. Hermione placed her slender hand in his, her eyes filling with wonder at the spark that shot through her. Perhaps the idea of the winter winds was not quite so ridiculous. Their eyes met briefly; for a moment Hermione thought she saw a flicker of curiosity behind his but then it was gone. Whether he would admit or not, Snape had felt it too.

"Thank you" she said softly.

Snape bent to gather her parcels in his arms without further words, sneaking quick looks at her when he thought she was dusting herself off. Winter winds or no, Hermione got the feeling that something magical was about to unfold.