AN: Thanks to JKR for allowing us to play with her characters. I make nothing from this endeavour. As ever I have no beta so there is bound to be a mistake or two.

Sorry for the delay between updates. I have been sorting much out since the house move.

SS

"Lumos."

Severus held his illuminated wand before him as he pushed open the door to his house and stepped in to the porch.

"What time do you call this? You're unusually late."

Severus glared at the antique door knocker, made in the likeness of a lion's head, and promptly slammed the door closed. He unbuttoned his cloak and hung it up on the solitary peg, next to his mother's umbrella stand. His mother had bought the umbrella stand from a market trader in the town when he was just a boy and despite Severus having never owned an umbrella, he couldn't bring himself to do away with it. Elaine Prince had suffered the wrath of her husband for bringing it home, making a now adult Severus even more inclined to keep it in the house.

He moved into the living room, his boots breaking the silence by clicking upon contract with the wooden floorboards. Wordlessly he lit the various lamps and candles located along the mantle piece and on the small table situated next to his threadbare lounge chair. The chair was another of his mother's legacies; the second chair, his father's, having long been cast out of the house. Severus didn't consider himself to be sentimental for the most part, but occasionally he allowed himself an indulgence or two. Generally, items he associated with his mother he kept and those he considered to be his father's he had disposed of long ago.

Taking his seat in his chair next to the small fireplace, he unfurled the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Despite working for the Ministry, reading the daily newspaper was his on way of keeping up with news and events. Years ago, his life was different, reading the newspaper was an activity best avoided, but now, it was a simple pleasure. On weekends he would drink his coffee and read the newspaper, and if he felt so inclined, he could Apparate to Diagon Alley and visit Slug and Jiggers, Flourish and Blotts, or even to Sugarplum's, where he would indulge in a liquorice wand, or two.

As he flipped through the pages of the newspaper he revelled in the tedium of the daily news; nothing of significance happened, which was just fine with Severus Snape. The first few pages were concerned with the scandal of a new wand shop daring to open in Diagon Alley. A wizard by the name of Reuben Sumpious had, according to the newspaper, the audacity to open his wand shop only six doors down from Ollivander's. Severus shook his head dismissively; why would any wizard, or witch for that matter, buy their wand from anyone other than Ollivander? It was unimaginable.

He flicked the paper before turning the page and was momentarily struck by a half page photograph: it was his old friend Lucius Malfoy and none other than Hermione Granger, smiling for the camera. He read the caption:

"St Mungo's benefactor Lucius Malfoy, St Mungo's Arithmancer Hermione Granger and St Mungos Head of Research and Development, Healer Rutherford Poke at the 159th Annual Fundraising Dinner."

Severus immediately recognised Poke as the dull healer from a meeting he'd had concerning the standardisation of floo powder several months earlier; the man could drone on for hours on the subject.

Next his gaze fixed to Lucius Malfoy, still with his long blonde hair, aristocratic features and finely tailored robes; surprisingly, his friendship with Lucius had remained intact after the war; never the less, Severus hadn't been aware that Lucius had taken up philanthropy on such a large scale.

Finally, almost as if he was rewarding himself for his patience, he allowed himself to look upon Hermione Granger. He had not had any contact with her since she had visited his office and thrust her business card in his direction. Her graceful plum coloured robes were were cut to flatter, hugged her curves and were obviously expensive. She was wearing her hair up, with just a few loose ringlets worn down to frame her face. Severus watched as she smiled warmly at Lucius, looked back at the camera and waved, before the image repeated itself. Had he not known Lucius to be utterly devoted to his wife, Narcissa, he would he been a jealous man indeed.

Aware of his train of thought he sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. It was pathetic, he was pathetic. He hated feeling this way, he loathed it. For years he had been free from the yoke which had been his love for Lily. There was no doubt that Lily would always be important to him, how could she not be? But the obsession was gone; he had been through too much to allow the fixation to continue. Lily had been a shining light in an otherwise bleak childhood but he'd poisoned their friendship with his need for recognition from his peers and his thoughtless actions. He would never be able to forgive himself where she was concerned, but the past was the past, best locked away.

So what was he doing? Why had he allowed Hermione Granger to get under his skin in such a way? He thought back a little more than eighteen months ago, at a dinner to celebrate the fall of the Dark Lord; Granger had been seated to his left, and to his surprise, had been an interesting dinner companion. They'd put the world to rights and talked of everything from politics to her mother's roasted duck recipe. Had it started even then? He supposed the seeds must have been sown that night as he had barely given her a second thought in the years before.

They'd bumped in to each other a few times since and each time he recalled noticing small things that he admired: her tenacity, the passionate way she would debate a subject, even her interest in academia intrigued him. He had always considered her to be a know-it-all; in some respects she was still, but it didn't seem to matter any longer for she had grown in to a compelling young woman with mesmeric hazel eyes. After each occasion they met he would find himself thinking about those eyes a little more often, until that awful evening at the Ministry. Even now he cringed at his own behaviour.

Perhaps he was lonely? He sat up at the thought, folded the newspaper and slammed it down on his coffee table. Lonely? Now that was a ridiculous; when had he not been satisfied with his own company?

Making his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea his thoughts wandered again. The last ten years had been some of the most pleasant of his life; he'd been his own master, he was employed and generally speaking, he had the respect he had craved as a younger man. It was peaceful and he very much liked peaceful. As he poured boiling water in to his mug he resolved to forget about her. He was an infamous master of his emotions and master he would remain.

SS

"We cannot thank you enough Monsieur Snape, your prezentation was most, how do you say? Illuminating."

Severus nodded head once in acknowledgement of the other man's praise.

"Are you sure you will not stay for the dinner tonight?" asked the rotund older wizard as he continued to shake Severus' hand enthusiastically.

"I thank you but no, I have another engagement this evening," Severus replied, extracting his hand.

The white, cloud-like, eyebrows of the other man moved down as he frowned. "Ze board will be most disappointed, we had hoped we have ze opportunity to talk a little more.

"Alas, it cannot be helped, perhaps another time?

The older wizard smiled. "Oui! I will make I so Monsieur."

Severus Disapparated with a resounding crack.

SS

"Now Lucius, why is it that I must travel all the way to Paris in order for us to have dinner together?" he asked, immediately after having arrived at his destination.

Lucius Malfoy smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. "You know I have a penchant for French cuisine and honestly, who wouldn't want an evening out in Paris?"

It was true that Paris had always been one of Severus' favourite European cities, along with Florence, Seville, and Prague amongst a few others. There was something hauntingly distinct about the atmosphere in Paris, that he'd not experienced elsewhere.

The pair emerged from the cobbled Parisian backstreet, rounded the corner and walked towards an elaborately carved oak door, which swung open as they arrived and invited them to enter.

Severus allowed the matire d' to take his cloak as he seated himself opposite one of his oldest friends. They hadn't always seen eye to eye, but time had been a healer and Lucius had been very keen to demonstrate to him his appreciation of Severus' protection of Draco during the waning years of the Dark Lord's reign of terror.

"Quite so," replied Severus, casting his eye over the menu.

"So, how did you enjoy your little sojourn to the Pyrenees? I trust it provided a satisfactory distraction from all of that Ministry toil?" Lucius goaded.

"What you deem 'toil', I consider to be honourable employment. We can't all live on our inheritance Lucius."

"Dear me Severus, are you going all 'class struggle' on me?"

"Not at all," he replied blandly, not bothering to up from his menu. "I was simply pointing out that there is satisfaction to be had by earning one's keep." Severus was sure he heard a sigh from across the table.

"Yes, I'm sure we can all go sleep safely in our beds knowing that the distribution of some tedious creature's body parts are now regulated to the Ministry's satisfaction."

Severus looked up and stared at his dinner companion pointedly. Lucius had always been a tremendous snob and time and the demise of the Dark Lord had done nothing to change him. "Shall we consider the menu and not my occupation?"

Lucius laughed lightly. "Of course, of course."

The pair passed the evening in companionable conversation on all matters, including the opening of the new wand shop in Diagon Alley. "Does it really matter?" Severus had asked. "I'll give him six months before the shop is closed and he's moved on."

"You have to see the novelty in such a thing," replied Lucius. "These days a new shop opens in Diagon Alley once in every twenty years... who would have thought we would have a new wand shop?"

"Thinking of trading your wand in for a new model?"

Lucius pressed the petit pois on to the back of his fork. "Speaking of new models, have you seen Hermione Granger recently?"

Severus felt himself go cold; he used the time it took to chew a piece of his filet migon to compose himself and to relay his mask of indifference. "Not of late. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting her at a dinner recently and thought she had..." he lifted his wine glass to his lips and seemed to considered his next words carefully. "Grown up well."

"I did happen to see your photograph in the Prophet, with that loathsome imbecile, Rutherford Poke."

"Old Pokey is a harmless fellow," Lucius replied. "I know he has his little obsessions, but don't we all?"

Severus replied with raise of his eyebrows; he wasn't sure if his friend's choice of words were deliberate. Lucius had always disapproved of Lily Evans and time had done nothing to change his mind in that regard.

"Never the less, I found Hermione Granger to be most surprising," added Lucius.

"Surprising, how?" Severus dabbed the corners of his mouth with his serviette.

"I had always considered, from what you and Draco have said in the past, and my own observation, that she would be a bookish bore. Imagine my surprise when I found her to be a most engaging dinner table companion."

They both paused as the waiter refilled both of their wine glasses.

"She's doing some wonderful things at St Mungos, I was quite taken with her."

Severus was grateful at that moment that his raised glass hadn't yet reached his lips. "Is Narcissa aware of your new 'friendship'?"

It was Lucius' turn to raise his eyebrows across the table. "What, exactly, are you suggesting?"

"Nothing at all."

"Honestly, she's young enough to be my own daughter." Lucius chuckled. "Rest assured I can appreciate a fine wine without opening the bottle."

Severus couldn't help but glance down at his plate momentarily; there it was, another hard dose of reality and a reminder of how ridiculous and inappropriate were his feelings for Granger. "You mentioned you were taken with her, what other conclusion was I to draw from that little statement?"

"I was just toying with you. You know you're much too serious sometimes Severus." Lucius set down his knife and fork. "There's no doubt in my mind that she's got a career ahead of her. Did you know that Poke is considering offering her the position as head of the arithmancy department?"

Now that was surprising.

"Of course," Lucius continued, "I'm sure it helps that Poke is a little infatuated with her himself."

"He's old enough to be her father's father." Severus felt his eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh I don't imagine for one moment that anything will come from it and I am almost certain that Poke isn't ignorant of the fact either, but a man has to have a little fantasy or two in his life, don't you think?"

"Quite. Now, shall we consider the dessert menu?" Severus replied.

SS

Laying in his own bed that same evening, Severus couldn't fathom why he had ordered desert; the tarte tatin had been very good, sublime even, but that didn't matter now that he was uncomfortably full and unable to sleep. He rolled on to his side and plumped his pillow several times, vainly hoping that it would make a difference to his comfort. Deep down he knew he had been making excuses; it wasn't the tarte bloody tatin that was keeping him awake, it was Hermione bloody Granger.

He'd been getting on with life well enough over the last few weeks with barely a thought in her direction; one newspaper photograph and one dinner conversation later, she was waltzing through his mind unabated.

It seemed she was carving out a nice career for herself over at St Mungos; from bottom feeder to head a department in just a few years was almost unheard of in wizarding society, it was a case of a dead man's shoes in most positions. He'd been plodding on for years and hadn't even made head of his division; apparently an Order of Merlin didn't accelerate your career when you were a reformed Death Eater, not in the same way as it did when Harry bloody Potter was your close friend.

Growling, he rolled over on to his back and stared at the ceiling; a shard of light from the street lamp outside had slipped through a gap in the curtains and illuminated the room. He'd told himself once before that he would forget about her and he was resolved to see his task through to the end. He needed a distraction; he could take up a hobby, perhaps he could get back to dabbling with potions as he had in the past. Momentarily he thought of Claudia Collingbourne; perhaps he should consider meeting a witch, nothing too serious – a dinner companion - someone to pull his mind way from his inappropriate attachment. Maybe he could accept of a few more speaking engagements; he had rather enjoyed his visit to Beauxbatons and he wasn't short of an invitation or two. Yes, he reflected, that would do quite nicely.

A little lighter of mind he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.