Disclaimer: I own nothing, and only borrowed the characters for a little while.
Hermione heard nothing from Snape as she finished up her Masters in America and prepared to move back home and take up a research position.
Entering her flat on her first night home from work, dead on her feet, it took her slow mind a second longer to see that something was off.
Looking around the lounge room, everything appeared the same. Entering the kitchen, she found a covered bowl, a heating charm in place.
Tears ran down her cheeks – bloody hormones – as she lifted the cloche and fragrant spices filled the air.
There was no note, but she could suspect who it was from.
She never saw his face in the days and nights over the weeks that passed, but meals and other assorted necessities just seemed to appear – some without her even realising that she needed them.
Next chapter: Routine.