Bill was oddly nervous as he set up the desk in his office the next morning. He wasn't sure why. He was rather relieved to no longer be in the desert heat, sweltering under the sun. It had been nice to see his family. He felt badly for not coming home sooner, but had decided to just be happy he was there now.

He looked up as someone stopped in his doorway. Hermione. Wearing a different, but no less attractive, skirt and blouse, this time with Gringotts-marked robes unfastened on top. Now he realised why he was nervous.

"Good morning," she said. "You don't know how glad I am that they finally filled this position. I've been doing both jobs for three months."

"Glad I could help," he said, his voice sounding like he hadn't spoken in weeks. He cleared his throat, then reached for the cup of coffee on the desk.

"You know, I keep coffee in my office, if you ever want some. I've charmed a muggle machine to work without electricity. I'm fairly addicted to it myself."

"Same here. Thanks."

"I though I'd take you to lunch today, if you want, for your first day at work."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I want to. Besides, I want to hear all about Egypt, and without Ron, perhaps we won't get interrupted again."

"He gets a little childish when he doesn't understand something, doesn't he?"

She shrugged. "Why do you think we never could make a relationship work?"

"I didn't know until yesterday that you couldn't."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, well, I guess that was a surprise. You must have thought Charlie was awful then, being so cheeky."

"A bit."

She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. "Well, he'd probably do it anyway. That's just Charlie. He's not serious and I'm not interested."

"I thought witches were rather taken in by the whole dragon keeper bit."

"Plenty seem to be. Are you trying to set me up with your brother?"

Merlin no! Wait, why would I care? "Uh, no, no, just wondering."

"Your mother is already far too interested in my love life," she said, amused. "I don't need you starting, too. Besides, the whole curse breaker bit can't be bad for you, either."

He thought it might be embarrassing to admit that while the curse breaker bit wasn't the problem, everything else about him was. "I haven't really tried it out...in a long time…to know whether it is or not," he answered awkwardly after a long pause.

She bit her a lip a little, and studied him for a minute. "So, lunch then?"

He nodded, grateful for the subject change.

oOoOo

Lunch that day was pleasant. He found himself less guarded than he usually was, and more talkative. And he never once caught her staring at his scars. She only looked him in the eye. And asked an endless series of questions about Egypt, and languages, and customs, and runes. He didn't mind. It was nice to have a conversation with someone who was interested and who knew nearly as much about the subjects as he did. Their hour was up too soon, and with the workloads at Gringotts being demanding, they didn't find another time to talk more until lunch the next day and then the next.

The fourth day, a wizard from the front lobby, Simon, showed up at Bill's office door a little before noon. "Your brother Charlie is here. Should I send him back?"

Bill nodded. "Yes, thanks."

A few moments later, Charlie appeared, taking a lazy seat on the edge of Bill's desk, coming close to a stack of texts that was leaning precariously. Bill reached over to straighten them. "I haven't even seen you since you started working here," Charlie complained. "I'm only in town for a few weeks, you know. I thought I'd try to pry you away from work for lunch. Maybe a pint?"

Before Bill could reply, Hermione walked in, already talking. "It's nearly lunchtime, did you want to—oh, hello, Charlie."

"Hullo Granger. I was here to take my brother for lunch, but if he already has plans..." Charlie turned his face from Hermione to give Bill a questioning look and a raised eyebrow.

"No, perfectly fine. I'm just down the hall, I can talk to him any time," Hermione said. "You two have fun. I believe I'll order some take away and eat in today."

She stepped back out and Charlie grinned like a cat who'd caught a canary. Bill noticed how much he resembled one of the twins when he did that. "So how often have you been having lunch with the lovely Miss Granger, eh William?"

"Sod off," Bill said, closing the book he had open in front of him and standing. "We usually talk about work, or she asks about Egypt. Nothing to owl home about."

"So every day, then?"

Bill just rolled his eyes and led Charlie out of his office and down the hall. That's when he noticed Simon leaning casually against the doorway to Hermione's office, talking her into having lunch with him. He heard her agree before he and Charlie were past her door. Simon was younger, probably about Hermione's age, was decent looking, and seemed to be an all around good bloke. Exactly the kind of nice young man his mother had been trying to set her up with. Bill didn't let himself ponder on why he found the idea of Simon and Hermione having lunch together disconcerting. But he did walk faster.

Bill spent lunch and a pint asking Charlie enough questions about Romania that he didn't have time to tease him anymore about Hermione. There wasn't even anything to tease him about. She was a family friend and they worked together. Sure, she had grown up to be a rather lovely woman, but anyone with two eyes and a pulse could see that. Him noticing couldn't be unique.

Still, he managed to find reasons to work through lunch the rest of the week and most of the week after that, minus one day he went to visit Fred and George and see the shop, resisting all the products they tried to shove in his hands.

It was late in the evening that next Thursday, though, when Hermione showed up in his office, some ancient-looking book in her hands.

"I know you've been very busy, so I hate to interrupt, but I just wanted to run something by you," she said.

"That's fine, I need a break from this anyway." He set down his quill and stretched out his hand, relieving the cramping he had acquired writing nearly two meters of translations.

She set down the book, then the scroll she was working on, on his desk and leaned over them beside him. "It starts off in Archaic Egyptian," she said, "then down here it's Old Egyptian, but this part in the middle is what I just don't recognise. I've looked up everything I can think of, even all the wizarding variations of those languages, but nothing fits."

He knitted his brow and studied the characters for several minutes, reading the first part, then trying to transition down to the mysterious middle. "I've seen it before, I think," he finally said. "We found some similar hieroglyphs on this one tomb near Cairo. It was a magical language, not a muggle one. This isn't exactly the same, but maybe it could help...I have a notebook around here somewhere..."

He started rummaging around in his desk drawers, then stepped to the bookshelves against the wall, running his fingers over the books' spines, looking for the notebook.

"That's fine, you could find it tomorrow. It's rather late," she said.

"No, I think it's at my flat, I can just Apparate over and get it."

She looked a little wistfully at the scroll. "No, I can work on it tomorrow."

He knew very well she wanted to keep working on it right then, not satisfied to hang it up and go home for the night without answers.

"Well, bring it with you and you can come with me," he said. "Mum sent me home with leftovers yesterday, if you're hungry."

She looked a little surprised and he started to take it back, wondering if she thought he was being forward or had some ulterior motive for asking her over. But she replied before he could.

"I am hungry and I haven't made dinner at the Burrow this week. What did she make?"

"Beef stew and homemade bread," he answered, getting hungry just thinking of it.

"Oh, well, that's made my decision, then. I can't very well pass that up."

"I think there might be leftover pudding, too."

"I already said yes," she teased. "No need to beg."

He smiled back at her easily, the bit of distance between them being all the space he needed to convince himself that his stomach hadn't really been doing flips when she had stood beside him.

She went to gather her things, then they Apparated into his flat. He took the scroll from Hermione and set it down on the small table by the window that was his desk.

"I'll go heat the stew, then I'll find that notebook," he said. "Make yourself at home."

She nodded, already looking towards his mostly-empty bookcases.

"It may not be there," he said, heading for the kitchen. "I haven't unpacked all my books."

"Do you mind if I look at what you do have out?"

"Certainly not," he said. "I know how much you like books."

She grinned at him and he smiled back, going into the kitchen before taking a deep breath. Avoiding her as much as possible the past week had done nothing to calm him. She was smart as hell and pretty and kind. And nine years younger than you, he reminded himself. And probably not drawn to men scarred by werewolves. Besides, you're not interested, remember?

He took longer than necessary to warm the stew. Drinks, hmm, he didn't have much on hand. There wasn't much in his refrigerator besides leftovers from his mum, really.

"I'm afraid I don't have much to drink besides muggle beer," he called into the living room.

"That's fine. I like it," she replied and he opened a second bottle with a little bit of surprise. Fleur had always turned her nose up at it, preferring wines, and only sweet ones at that. He levitated a tray with their dinners in front of him as he returned to the living room. She was sitting on the floor in front of his bookshelf, her high heels discarded and her legs tucked up underneath her. She had let her hair down, seeing as how it was mostly escaping the band she'd put around it anyway, and was flipping through an older book on Egyptian history he'd picked up in an out-of-the-way bookshop in Cairo.

He cleared his throat a little and she glanced up, quickly, not having noticed him before. She put the book back and scrambled to her feet, taking the tray from the air in front of him and putting on the coffee table.

"This looks fantastic," she said, taking a seat on the sofa.

"I'll, uh, I'll go look for that notebook," he said, awkwardly. "Go ahead and start eating."

She nodded, not seeming to notice that he was a little flushed. He once again escaped the living room and ducked into his bedroom, opening a random box, trying to forget how perfectly fantastic she had looked, Gringotts robe discarded and first couple of buttons on her blouse undone. She had no earthly idea what she was doing to him. He didn't understand it himself. Sweet Merlin, she'd been a kid last time he checked. Just one of his baby brother's friends. Then he'd gone away, blinked, and now she was all grown up, gorgeous, and Godric, she even liked Egyptian history! What was he supposed to do in the face of all that?

"Get a grip, William," he murmured to himself, sifting through one box, and then the next, before finding the notebook he'd been looking for. Taking another deep breath, he returned to the living room and took a seat at the other end of the sofa, the notebook in between them.

She had her legs tucked underneath her again, bowl of stew in her hand as she dipped a piece of bread in the broth before taking a bite.

"Mmm, I wish I'd gone to the Burrow for dinner last night," she said when she had swallowed.

He took a long pull of ale, then picked up his own bowl and spoon. "I haven't seen you there lately, since the first night I was home."

"I usually go more often, I've just been busy," she said. "I'd been working so much, I'd rather neglected my flat, so I've been doing some spring cleaning. I actually thought about going over for dinner last night, because I was rather low on food at home, but Simon owled, so I went to dinner with him. We both like heading to Muggle London for Thai food."

Bill felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. He took another bite to distract himself, then, "You go out with him often, then?"

She gave him a slight funny look, then went back to eating. "A couple of times a week, usually."

It's for the best, he told himself. "I'm sure Mum would approve." Was it just him, or did that sound a tad bitter?

Now she was really giving him a funny look. "I'm not really his type," she said, slowly. "Bill, Simon's gay."

"Oh. Oh!"

She laughed then and he flushed a little. "In fact, I think he's much more taken with you than me."

He turned even redder. "Well, that's just...uncomfortable. I mean, nothing wrong with it, I just don't—oh, hell..."

She was laughing harder now and he couldn't help but chuckle, too, feeling like an idiot for having been so jealous. Jealous? Had he been jealous?

"In fact," she continued, "he rather likes that leather waistcoat you've worn a couple of times this week."

"I'll make sure not to wear it again, then," he replied, managing to stop laughing long enough to take another drink.

"I hope you don't do that. I like it quite a lot myself."

He nearly choked. He looked at her, but her gaze was on her dinner and there wasn't even a hint of a blush on her cheeks. What was that? Was she flirting with him? He felt that this was getting dangerous. He set down his dinner and picked up the notebook, flipping through it, looking for the notes she needed and distracting himself.

"Bill—"

"Here's what I was talking about," he said, interrupting and ignoring the strange look she was giving him. He shoved the notebook at her and she took it, setting down her dinner.

With one more look towards him, which he only saw out of the corner of his eye, she got up and retrieved the scroll from the desk, starting to compare it against his notes. He hadn't completely figured out the hieroglyphs, but he thought there was probably enough in his notes to help her some with the middle passage on the scroll. She was probably smart enough to figure out the rest.

By the time they were through with dinner, she had a good start and set the scroll and notebook aside, rubbing her eyes a little. "I think I've looked at ancient languages all I can for today," she said. "I should probably head home. Thank you for dinner, and the notebook."

Part of him didn't want her to leave, but the other part, the part that won out, was dying for her to. His head was spinning.

"Not a problem." He managed to answer lightly. "You can borrow any books you want, anytime."

Her eyes lit up a little. "I'd like to take a look at that one on Egyptian history you have on the bottom shelf."

He nodded. "Of course. I bought it at a used bookstore in Cairo. It might be a little dry." It wasn't. It was fascinating.

"It didn't look it," she assured him. "I'll bring it back to you soon." She gathered up her things, and the book, then paused a little at the front door. She bit her lower lip for a moment, as though considering something, then seemed to shake her head a little. "Good night. I'll see you at work in the morning."

"See you tomorrow."

He then watched her Disapparate and stared for a long time at the empty spot where she had been. Merlin, he was in trouble.

oOoOo

He didn't really know what possessed him to wear the leather waistcoat to work the next morning, but he noticed that when she appeared in his office doorway, coffee for him in hand, as was her habit, she nearly stumbled over the threshold. He bit back a grin, feeling a little like his old self. Before the war, before Fleur, before Greyback.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" he asked, coolly, as if he had no idea what could have made her flustered.

"Um, yes, thanks. I brought you some coffee."

He took the cup and smiled innocently at her. "Thanks. I was going to come to your office in a minute for some anyway."

"Well, you're, uh, you're welcome. I'll just...go..."

She fairly flew back to her office. Well, that had been fun.