Chapter 2

In the years since she moved out here, Hermione had never quite adjusted to the stifling heat of a New York summer. She'd been to many a warmer clime with her parents as a child, but two weeks away was nothing compared to the relentless humidity she'd encountered here.

And so a very hot and bothered witch arrived back at her apartment still clutching Severus' precious paperwork. She had gone to his hotel, but he had not arrived back. Not trusting anyone but herself not to lose them, she left a message for him at the front desk to contact her, and headed home, checking a few local bars on the way, just in case he was drinking them dry.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the wonders of air conditioning and the one person in the world who she knew loved her unconditionally...as long as she fed him that was. She had woken up six months after arriving in New York, determined to shake off her feelings for Severus and combat her loneliness in the city where she now lived. She had dated a couple of Muggles, both fascinated by the prospect of having an English girlfriend, but she soon realised that having a boyfriend whose name wasn't Severus Snape was unconscionable. So one Saturday morning she found herself at an animal rescue centre and left with a mongrel who had taken a shine to her and whom she had duly called Wordsworth.

Placing Severus' notes on the lamp table at the far end of the sofa, Hermione sat down and as an excited Wordsworth jumped all over her, her mind wandered back to her last pet, Crookshanks. In fact, if it hadn't been for Crookshanks, she may not have ended up feeling as crap as she was right now.

Eight Years Ago

"Crooks, where are you?" Hermione called, looking nervously at the clock. She had to make sure that her cat was safely locked in her small flat in Walthamstow as he'd been terrorising her neighbour's Labrador. She'd been looking for her mischievous pet for a good half an hour already, but it didn't normally take this long to find him and she was acutely aware that her fourth brewing session with Severus started in ten minutes.

There was only one place left to look: the airing cupboard, and sure enough there he was, snuggled up in a pile of towels. She was about to walk away, content to let him sleep when she realised something that made her stomach drop. Crookshanks was asleep, but it was an eternal one.

"You're late," Severus growled without looking up as he continued to chop through a pile of dittany plants.

"I'm sorry, I..." and with that Hermione burst into tears in front of the one man whom she never wanted to see her cry again.

Severus stopped what he was doing and turned to her. "Do I need to speak to Mr. Weasley for disturbing my apprentice's emotional stability? Or better still shall I just kill him?"

"It's not Ron. We split up a couple of weeks ago," Hermione managed to say through her racking sobs. "It's Crookshanks. He's dead."

She thought she heard him say, "Oh," but she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she was being guided through the door between the two bookshelves which led to Severus' private rooms and was told to sit down whilst he made tea.

"Is he still in your flat?" Severus asked, placing a mug of tea in front of her.

Hermione nodded, telling him where she had found him.

"Would you like me to bring him here or shall I remove him for you?"

Unsettled by Snape's question, she looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I can either bring him here for you to say your final goodbyes or I can simply remove him from your humble abode so that you can make the necessary arrangements. I presume you wish to bury him somewhere."

The words fell out of her mouth before she knew she was saying them. "Why are you being so nice?"

"I would prefer the word pragmatic to nice, but if you insist. Whatever you may think of me, Miss Granger, I have no reason to see you upset. A menace he may have been, but he meant a great deal to you, and I know what it is like to lose someone you care about. It matters not whether your friend had two or four legs, he was your constant companion these last few years and I dare say a lot more loyal than those two idiots you tend to hang around with.

"As such, I am more than willing to assist you...to make things easier for you, if you will."

Taken aback by Severus' uncharacteristic kindness, Hermione found herself flinging herself into his arms; an act that did not elicit the kind of response that she was expecting.

Despite everything, Hermione couldn't help but smile when she thought about that day. However, she was brought back to the present by a long, wet tongue.

"Oh I'm sorry. Am I ignoring you?" she asked her attention seeking dog apologetically. "Tell you what," she said excitedly, "shall we go for a W word? Shall we? Shall I make the call? Do you wanna go see your girlfriend? Do you?"

She was about to pick up her phone, when her fireplace sprang into life causing Wordsworth to start bouncing around and barking in front of it just as the face of Ginny Potter appeared in the grate.

"Hi Wordsworth! Happy Independence Day...whatever the hell that is. It's not crazy o'clock there, is it, Hermione?" the redhead asked, looking a little sheepish.

"No, for once you got it right," Hermione laughed as her dog rolled onto his back once again demanding attention. "Everything OK?"

"I've just managed to get James off to sleep and Harry's out with Ron so I thought I'd give you a quick call. Is it this evening that the conference starts? I know George and Angelina flew out there a couple of days ago. Can you imagine how jealous Dad is? He's now trying to persuade Mum to take a holiday abroad and fly rather than Portkey."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the image of Arthur Weasley having coniptions over his son and daughter in law travelling by plane. "It'll be lovely to see them again. And yeah, it does start this evening. I've just come home to take Wordsworth out for a W word and then get ready. Oh and I hope I can get Severus' notes back to him in time."

Ginny's curiosity was piqued. "So, you've seen him? How was it? Was it weird?"

"It was really weird," Hermione admitted as she continued rubbing Wordworth's belly. "Bemusing if I'm honest. He was in the conference room when I went to check it over. He basically said that he was getting out of my way, had a go at me and then walked out without his notes."

The flame haired witch pulled a confused face. "What? I don't get that. After what he said to Malfoy, why would he have a go at you?"

Hermione shrugged. "You tell me," she said, watching Wordsworth roll over and pretend to fall asleep in front of the fireplace.

"Well, you know what Harry and I think."

"Yeah, I know," Hermione sighed, "and Pansy thinks so, too."

"If Harry had said anything like that about me, I'd have smacked him one and then asked questions later. I'd never have taken Lucius Malfoy's word for it even with so called memories. Harry's convinced he doctored them. But then again, he knew which buttons to press and you buggered off before Severus could tell you it was all bullshit."

"So you've said."

"And I'll say it again. And if you two weren't both as stubborn as each other you'd have had this out sooner, but oh no, you ran away and he denied your very existence. And don't you dare tell me that you're happy with Jonathan."

Hermione exhaled forcefully. "I'm not. Ever since I found out that Severus was coming over here, I haven't been able to think about anything but seeing him again and...well, I think Jonathan is seeing someone else."

"He's what?" Ginny yelled, doing a passable impression of her mother. "The slimy fucking arsehole. I'll fucking portkey over there and cut his cock off if he's been sticking it in someone else. What makes you say that?"

"Well," Hermione started, "last night he said he was working late. I popped down to the office to say goodbye on my way home and was told that he'd left for the evening."

Ginny's eyes widened and Hermione waited for her reprimand. "And you haven't spoken to him about it, yet? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Shrugging again, Hermione simply told her that she didn't really care and would speak to him once the conference was out of the way.

"Or you might have seen sense and talked to Severus and realised what an arsehole Malfoy's been and then shag each other's brains out..."

"I doubt that'll..." Hermione tried to protest, but Ginny continued.

"...and I want details. I got details the first time you two shagged so I want them this time, too."

"Oh shut up!" Hermione warned her friend playfully as Wordworth suddenly got up and placed his head on her lap.

"I mean it, lady," Ginny advised her strongly. "I want every sordid fucking detail except obviously you don't need to tell me about his cock this time. I couldn't bear the smug look on your face the last time."

Hermione burst through the door at Grimmauld Place obviously in a state of shock. Harry was just leaving the Drawing Room when he found himself with a mouthful of unruly curls, and an armful of sobbing friend.

"Fucking hell, Hermione, what's happened?" Harry asked urgently.

Hermione managed to stop crying just long enough to say, "Crooks is dead."

"Oh shit, are you..."

"No, but that's not it," she almost squeaked. "I mean it is, but I can't believe..."

"Well, he was old, love," the saviour of the wizarding world told, trying to be comforting, but knowing somehow that he was failing miserably.

"Let me finish," Hermione demanded pulling away slightly. "I can't believe what I just did."

Harry looked perplexed.

"I slept with Snape."

Harry froze. He waited for Hermione to tell him that it was a joke, but he knew her too well and could that she was deadly serious. Not knowing what to say, he called to his girlfriend to come downstairs and led his former partner in crime into the kitchen.

Once she was seated, Harry busied himself making tea as Ginny joined them. Taking one look at Hermione's face, she immediately went to her, asking what was wrong.

Harry answered for Hermione. "Crooks is dead."

"Oh no!" Ginny exclaimed, pulling Hermione into a tight hug. "Are you okay?"

Hermione shook her head only to hear Ginny's stage whisper. "How the fuck did that happen?" she mouthed when Harry informed her that she'd also slept with Severus Snape, before saying, "Harry, be a love. Go and amuse yourself for a bit. I think us girls need to talk...in private."

As Harry left looking somewhat relieved and muttering something about not wanting to stay and hear this anyway, Ginny released Hermione from her grasp.

The youngest Weasley sat down next to her friend and taking her hand, asked as calmly as possible, "He didn't force you, did he?"

"What? No," Hermione told her adamantly. "If anything I jumped him. I found Crooks in the airing cupboard and I ended up being late for my brewing session. Severus was just lovely about it and I was so surprised and grateful that I threw myself at him. Next thing I knew we were kissing and...trust me those buttons are pain in the fucking arse..."

"...but you managed?" Ginny smirked.

"Yeah, eventually, and then his hands were everywhere and my hands were everywhere. And somehow he managed to take off my knickers, I undid his trousers and we had sex on his sofa."

"Hang on, hang on! Can we just take a step back here? You undid his trousers. Now, for the benefit of the insanely curious, has he got a big cock?"

Hermione blushed profusely. Pressing her lips together she shook her head as if she didn't want to say before a big grin spread across her face. "No, it's massive!"

"Alright, if by some miracle, I ever sleep with Severus again, which is highly unlikely as he obviously can't stand being in the same room as me, I will tell you everything," Hermione promised, "and I'll bring along an appropriately sized courgette just to remind you how big he is."

"No don't," Ginny pleaded, "I haven't been able to look a big courgette in the face since. But seriously, love, try and talk to him. Even if everything you've been told is true...which I still think is bullshit...at least you'll know and then you can stop thinking about him."

Hermione gave her friend a wry smile. "I know," she said just as the faint sound of James crying could be heard.

"I guess that's my cue to go," Ginny sighed, "but sort it out. And take that poor animal out for a walk."

If Ginny had been in the room, Hermione would have thrown a particularly nasty hex at her because as soon as Wordsworth heard the word, 'walk,' he started racing around the room and jumping on all the furniture excitedly. Somehow she suspected that her friend had said it deliberately.