A/N: These characters aren't mine, I'm just using them for a bit of fun. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. I'm a bit weary of writing more until at least seeing that there is some interest in this tale.
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"I can't believe we're actually standing here, mate." Ron stared at the silver coffin as it was lowered into the cold ground.
"I always figured that we be the first to go, not her." Harry added in agreement as his green eyes seemed to be clouded with grief.
"Why in the world was she even there to begin with? I keep constantly wondering if there was something we could have done."
"How could we? It wasn't as if she ever let us in. In fact, she was quite keen on keeping us completely out of her life."
"Still, I can't help but regret all the missed opportunities at confronting her about it. Perhaps if we had pushed harder then we could have prevented this from happening. She was too young and brilliant to have died this way."
"I know, I know." Harry sighed as he patted Ron's back, leading his now only living best friend out of the chilly cemetery.
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TWO DAYS LATER
"Well, at least some things never change," Ginny sighed as she wiped the sweat off her brows. Looking around her she wondered whether or not they would ever be able to get all of Hermione's book collection packed. It seemed as if the witch had more books than the Hogwarts library.
"Merlin, she sure loved to read!" Fred piped in as well as he closed yet another box of books.
"Just look at these books, some of them are absolutely ancient and quite rare. Hermione must have some serious contacts to have gotten her hands on some of these."
Nodding George levitated two boxes and stacked them one on top of the other. "What are we going to do with these? It doesn't seem right to just give them away or sale them."
"No, it doesn't," Ron frowned.
"Then why don't we each keep a few so that way they'll be in good hands and amongst friends…I'm sure Hermione would have liked that. Perhaps we can later donate them to Hogwarts; I don't think she would have minded that either."
Harry looked over at Ginny who smiled widely at him, love radiating from her eyes. "I think it's a wonderful idea."
Smiling as well Ron picked up another book, but stopped once he read the title. Running his hand along the leather surface he slowly traced the bold letters that spelled out 'journal'.
"You guys, I think I found something."
"Another book?" George asked sarcastically as he tossed a few more into another box.
"No, a journal and I think it belonged to Hermione."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked.
"Pretty sure, look it's her hand writing!"
"It could be a childhood journal, Ron." Ginny called out from across the study.
"No, the date is pretty recent…."Ron trailed off as he manoeuvred through the small labyrinth of boxes and flopped himself onto the large suede couch near the fireplace.
"Then we shouldn't be reading it." Harry reached to take the journal away from him, but Ron quickly ducked and hopped over to the overstuffed arm chair of the same material.
"Why not? For years we've wondered what she had been up to and now we have the opportunity to know. She's gone Harry and there's nothing that can be done about it, but we can at least have some peace of mind…finally know why she chose to keep us at arm's length."
His words were soft and sad as he stared down at the leather-bound journal. When no further words of protest came from the others, Ron opened the journal. Looking up he found that everyone had stopped packing and had moved to the couch, each one staring up at him expectantly.
Ron took a deep breath and looked down at Hermione's neat handwriting, "august twenty-ninth…"
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August 29, 2006
Hermione peered out the front window of her small bookshop, sighing in relief she noticed that the streets where no longer overflowing with last minute shoppers. It had been a tough week, especially with the new school term bound to start in a few days and, as always, the majority of parents and students had left their back to school shopping till the last week. Turning around she began to manoeuvre around the cramp quarters, picking up stray books and placing them back in their rightful place. Although a bit tight when it came to space, her bookshop was actually the most popular in Diagon Alley. Carrying a wide variety of books, both muggle and magical – the young witch had managed to make quite the name for herself within the book business.
Preoccupied in organizing the mess before her, she completely failed to hear the ringing of the small little bell that hanged over the door. Suddenly feeling a hand on her shoulder, she whirled around, pointing her wand right into a black-clad chest, but immediately lowered it once she saw who was standing before her.
"Miss Granger."
"Headmaster Snape, I'm terribly sorry. You gave me quite the scare for a moment there."
"Yes, I see. Next time I suggest you aim between the eyes, Miss Granger."
"Of course…I'll try to keep that in mind, headmaster."
"Please, there's no need for the formal title," his voice was as smooth as silk, just like she remembered, although this time it wasn't dripping with disdain when regarding her.
Hermione arched one perfectly defined eyebrow, "so the rumours are true?"
"I don't see how it may concern you, but yes, the rumours are true. This year Minerva will be taking the reins as headmistress of Hogwarts."
"How lovely!" Hermione exclaimed in genuine delight for her former mentor before catching herself. "Although, a shame that you're leaving."
"Spare me, Granger. I do not require your sympathy, but I do need your assistance in finding these particular books."
Reaching inside his coat pocket, he produced a short list, and handed it over to Hermione. Immediately she jumped into action, mentally distinguishing witch text she had in the store, and which ones she would need to order.
"Some of these are extremely rare…"
"I've heard that's your specialty."
"Then you heard correctly. I have half these texts in stock, but the other half will need to be order. I can probably have them here next week."
"Good, I'll be back in a week."
"But…" before Hermione could finish her sentence, he had Apparated.
Shaking her head, Hermione tucked the list into the pockets of her robes. If anyone had thought that Severus Snape would somehow change after the Great War, they were most certainly mistaken. The man had not changed one single bit; he was still as impatient as ever – only sparring anyone a second glass whenever they were of some relevance to his existence. Beyond that, she figured, he just couldn't be bothered.
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September 12, 2006
Once again, he managed to catch her completely off guard before closing up the shop.
"You're going to have to stop sneaking up on me," she held a hand to her chest.
"Then I suggest you start paying more attention. Now, if you don't mind, I'm here to collect my order."
"Of course," she made her way towards the front desk, reaching underneath the massive counter to retrieve his order.
"I wouldn't shrink them since it could cause some damage to the spines."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Nodding she placed them inside the shopping bags, casing a weightless charm on them for his convenience. The bill was discretely slipped across the counter, Snape reaching into his wallet and retrieving a small pouch of galleons which he placed in front of her without even counting them.
"Aren't you going to count it?"
Shrugging, she looked up at Snape, her brown eyes shining. "I think I can trust you."
"How terribly Gryffindor," he frowned unimpressed.
"And how predictably Slytherin to presume I would lack such tact as to count the money in front of you."
"I could have swindled you."
His voice once more turned to silk, as he stepped closer his graceful but slightly dark demeanour meaning to intimidate, but instead of shrinking away like most people tended to, Hermione gathered all her Gryffindor courage and stood her ground. Her warm whiskey colour eyes never once wavered as she smiled demurely.
"Lucky for me, I know exactly where you live."
It was his turn to now arch an eyebrow.
"And what if I refuse to cooperate?"
Was it her imagination or had his voice dropped and octave or two?
"Oh believe me, sir. I have my ways…."
Yet, instead of answering his lips quirked around the corners almost resembling a smile, "Good evening, Miss Granger."
"Please," she repeated his exact words from two weeks ago, "there's no need for the formal title."
With one last nod he was gone from the little bookshop. His black robes billowing behind him, as he strode to the end of the street and Apparated away. Bringing a hand to her chest, she finally exhaled the breath she had unknowingly been holding.
It seemed as if she was definitely worth more than a mere second glance.
TBC
