Author's Note: I find myself needing to answer some of my own questions about what happens next. So an update! I'm on pins and needles waiting for some reviews. What do you like? Not like? What do you think happens next? The familiar characters and familiar settings are not mine.

Chapter Four

I watched him with some trepidation as he inspected our dinner. I had picked up fish and chips for both of us, as well as some cola and what I knew was Neville's favorite beer. He didn't look displeased, but I felt on edge nonetheless. There was a tension in his shoulders and a cold look in his eyes that I had come to recognize. It always showed up before things went bad. Sometimes it went away. Sometimes it didn't. And it always, always came back.

"It's been awhile since we have had fish and chips," I ventured. "I thought maybe we could eat outside, like we did the summer we got married."

His smile was tight, but the coldness backed away and I knew I might be safe yet tonight as long as I played my cards right. Neville liked to be reminded of when we were dating, our whirlwind romance after the war, after I caught Ron cheating, after I couldn't get my parents' memories back. They were better times for us.

He didn't hit me until several months after our marriage, when I had come to depend on him less and started looking for jobs and talking about trying for an apprenticeship.

"That sounds good, Hermione."

His voice wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold either. I thought maybe I could salvage this and stretch it out a few more days.

We settled in to eat, sitting at our outdoor bar table and its tall stools. I loved this table, these stools - for all the bad, Neville and I have had a lot of fond memories.

"How is Professor Snape treating you?" he asked.

"He is civil, but we haven't spoken much. Today we just cleaned the laboratory we will be working in," I said, biting my lip a little when I was finished speaking. The relaxed expression had not left Neville's face. Maybe he really was trying.

Maybe it wouldn't happen again.

"Sounds like detention."

I laughed and that seemed to please him. Laughing at his jokes usually did. "At least he can't take house points when I ask too many questions."

A twist of a grin.

I felt triumphant. I felt in love. My husband was safe again tonight, and I hoped he would continue to be so. It felt like old times, when he first brought me out of my shell.

The rest of dinner went without a hitch, and as I was cleaning up I inquired about Ginny. Neville shook his head sadly, "I don't understand why she keeps trying. Perhaps you should write your condolences to them."

"May I invite them for dinner this weekend?"

The cold seeped back in, and I was not certain why, but Neville just muttered, "If you must." I checked his fists - unclenched. He was annoyed but not angry, and so desperate was I to see Harry and Ginny that I decided to take the risk.

I quickly penned a note to Harry asking them over for dinner on Friday, and told Neville I was retiring, that the day would be long.

He followed me, and with gentle touches and soft kisses, he was able to seduce me. As we lay in post orgasmic bliss, he slipped an arm around me and pulled me close. "Beautiful. I love you, Herms," he murmured, and I couldn't help but grin.

I'm always so hungry for his approval, his affection.

"I love you too, Neville."

And it really, in that moment, felt like things would be okay.

The next morning I met Professor Snape at the Leaky Cauldron, as we had arranged. I hadn't known what to wear and he scowled when he saw me. I almost wanted to flinch away: I no longer had good memories of scowling men. Violence usually followed. I wasn't wearing anything outrageous - just some casual robes over jeans and a nice blouse.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, "I do not wish my apprentice to look so bedraggled in public."

"Sir?"

"Wrinkles."

"Oh."

"Muggle. Clothes."

"But sir -" Equality should be a thing; since the war ended, Muggleborn wizarding folk had been wearing Muggle clothing more and more. I had thought that this would be acceptable, and although I may be meeker around Neville, I am by no means not me.

"Custom, Miss Granger, dictates that the apprentice should be in potioneer's robes at all times when with his or her Master. Barring that, they should dress in full robes. It is professional."

I nodded, although I am sure fire still burned in my eyes. I wanted to argue, I wanted to tell him that it was preposterous. He might have raised an eyebrow, and I just offered him a shy smile.

"Perhaps I did not read the contract as thoroughly as I might have," was all I could say, and he scowled again. I had been too excited about the prospect of apprenticing to him, and it had been so long since Neville had pulled me away from academia. Perhaps the professor was wondering what he had done.

"Indeed. Come, Miss Granger." He gestured, and when he turned, his robes billowed.

He led me to an apothecary I was not familiar with. Aconite, it was simply called. It actually looked quite inviting. It must have just opened after the war, after I married Neville. We entered and I was surprised at how well lit, organized, and stocked it was. There was a display case behind the counter of valuable ingredients.

"I've never been here before," I couldn't help but marvel, walking over to the nearest shelf to run my finger along the placards that were engraved in it. I couldn't wait to start brewing; I looked at the professor with a wide smile.

He was scowling when we made eye contact, but I thought that my smile might have softened his look slightly. He gestured to the sales desk, and I followed him. I was nervous as what to expect, but the clerk greeted him warmly.

"Rupert," said Professor Snape in return, "Please outfit my apprentice in the garb she will require."

"Most certainly! Come..." he paused, and the professor supplied my name, "Yes, Miss Granger, and I will get you everything you need. I'll make your wildest potions dreams come true!"

I gave him an odd look, and then looked to the professor. He just raised an eyebrow. Well, it isn't like I had never dealt with wacky before. "Okay," I murmured half-heartedly, and Rupert whisked me away to the back.

"Honestly, why you didn't come to me before you signed, I don't know. Severus should have told you to come, he knows how I like a challenge. Ingredients aren't hard at all, but a potioneer's garb! That's an honor, you know, especially if the apprentice goes on to Mastery and still wears the same garb. It's meant to last a lifetime," he rambles on, although much of this I had no idea about.

"Are you a Master?" I asked, although it didn't seem like it. "I actually didn't know any of this until just now, and I didn't know this apothecary existed."

"Merlin! Me, a Potions Master? I haven't the magic. Not a Squib, not quite, but I cannot make the ingredients behave the way they should no matter how closely I follow Severus' instructions. You haven't heard of us? However not? Have you been living under a rock? Why, Severus and I have owned Aconite since a few months after the war ended."

Wait. What?

Professor Snape owned an apothecary? He had a friend? This was a little much for me. Clearly, I needed to get out more. Rupert prattled on about the reasons he liked his job, and I only half-listened.

He took measurements, made notes, and then scurried off to another room. I was left with the command to stay put. That was easier said than done, because I was full of questions for my mentor. I rather wanted to run out and ask him all of them at once.

When Rupert came back, he informed me I could expect a delivery that evening. Before I exited to reunite with Professor Snape, I cast a tempus. With all the measuring and talking he had done, I was surprised that it was almost lunch.

He was minding the log books at the clerk's desk, and when he saw Rupert and I emerge, I could see him relax. He almost - almost - smiled. There had to be a story here. Rupert seemed too bumbling to ever have gotten into Severus' good graces, even if he was as skilled with robecraft as he claimed.

"Is it done?" Snape asked.

"Yes. Why, Severus, you should have told her about our store. I couldn't believe she's never heard of it. And did you know that she didn't know what Hippogriff Quill was? And she didn't know about the Weird Sisters! Where did you find her, under a rock?"

The professor gave me a sidelong glance. I suddenly felt that perhaps this getting back into society was perhaps a very bad idea. Certainly he would know that this ignorance of mine wasn't typical of me. He would know.

"I...haven't been out much. The war," I answered, looking at my fingernails. I really should cut them. They were getting long enough to gather dirt underneath the edges. I knew that didn't bode well for the subtle science of Potions.

It was almost as if Rupert didn't know who I was, since he just shook his head and clucked. My excuse seemed to satisfy the professor, but I felt like it was a poor one.

"How much do I owe...?" I queried, desperate for something else to talk about. The attention of these two men on me - both of them polar opposites of each other - made me feel nervous.

It could have been something else, something I was only peripherally aware of at the moment. It could have been I was nervous to go home, to tell Neville what my day comprised of. He was sure to ask.

Rupert simply laughed and waved at my question. "The apprentice of the owner? Severus! Do you tell her nothing?"

He sneered and gave me a cold look. The thought that he might not like being referred to in such an easy manner while I was around crossed my mind. That, or perhaps he thought I was being a dunderhead, despite our good day yesterday.

"It is included in operating costs, Miss Granger," he informed me.

For the second time that day, I found myself saying, "Oh."

We left the store and I followed him meekly. Long ago, I had learned not to pester the Potions Master when he was in a foul mood. I simply walked behind him, watching his feet. We already had my potioneer's robes ordered; what else was there to do today?

We stopped in front of another unfamiliar shopfront.

I looked up - Hippogriff Quill, cafe and bookstore.

"Sir?" I ventured.

"You haven't seen it, have you? The Abbott girl owns it," he said, and I was surprised at that. I always thought Hannah to be the sweet, homemaker type, not the type to own a business. That should be me. I should be successful in my professional life, but here I was just starting. My resentment was building towards Neville, and perhaps the professor saw the small frown I felt tug on my lips. "It is lunch time, is it not?" He sneered.

Oh, he must have thought I thought he was being nice, to show me something I hadn't seen before. I was hungry, I supposed, and I wouldn't mind eating. "I suppose you are correct, sir," I replied. My face felt hot; I hoped I wasn't blushing.

Lunch was a quiet affair, and I was certain we drew quite a few looks from other customers. Until now we had blended into the crowd, but now the best friend of Harry Potter and the hero of the war, I mean, the professor, together certainly caught the attention.

There wasn't anything untoward going on.

Just lunch between a Master and apprentice.

He barely spoke, except to comment on the food selection. I ordered, as usual when I am out, fish and chips, and he had a Reuben. Apparently, fish and chips were "fried monstrosities are just waiting to tear apart hearts with claws and sabers," and it was "appalling that anyone would deign touch the stuff."

Lunch was good, and after, I asked if I could at least window shop for books. He agreed, and we parted ways as I had to peruse the shelves aisle by aisle and he was only interested in the Defense and Potions sections.

Nothing particular caught my eye until I arrived in the Potions section, although I did pick up the newest addition of Hogwarts, A History. As I ran my finger down the leather binding of the books, relishing the feel of it, smooth and supple - I saw it.

It was a book published by Professor Snape on antivenoms, antidotes, and healing. I - well, my thoughts might have been colored by Harry and Ron always nattering on about how evil the man was - always thought he would be on the darker side of brewing.

The wizarding world would, I suppose, forgive someone more readily if he was putting skills out there to fix maladies.

I decided to purchase it. The Half-blood Prince's notes in Harry's sixth year textbook had made an impression on me. The man was brilliant. Hopefully he had imparted some similar wisdom in this book.

So - two academic books when I hadn't read anything other than cookbooks and literature since things went bad with Neville. It would be great if he was okay with it.

Should I risk it? I glanced over at Professor Snape as he thumbed through a thick tome on rare ingredients, and decided that to finally impress this man, it had to be.

I had spent my entire school time trying to live up to Professor Snape's exacting standards and I wasn't about disappoint him after he picked me as an apprentice.

After I made my purchases, I sat down at a table with a cup of tea in order to begin reading Hogwarts, A History. By page two I wanted a quill so I could add annotations of my own. Each edition was different than the last, in both organization and content. This one was glossing over the Founders and their wards, the wards that made the school entirely too sentient for a building.

The professor came over and gathered me when it was time to depart.

I had time enough to thank him, ask him a small question about his book (to which he scowled and ignored), and watch him hastily apparate away.