A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews. You all are really wonderful. Fair warning - there isn't much SS in this chapter. I started writing and ... well ... it is what it is. I promise he comes back next chapter!

Disclaimer : I own nothing. I am shamelessly using J.K.'s characters as my imaginary playthings.

Hermione arrived at the Three Broomsticks a few minutes early, and ordered a few butterbeers for herself and Ginny. As she was sitting down, Ginny practically bounced through the door. Hermione smiled at her friend, and almost wanted to giggle at Ginny's excitable nature. As Ginny sat down, Hermione noticed her quickly tucking her hands further into her sleeves. Remembering to try the infamous arched brow, and knowing Ginny obviously had something to say, she attempted Snape's look. It earned her a round of bubbling laughter from the red head.

"Blimey 'Mione! You've been spending too much time tending to Professor Snape! That was an awful imitation of him!"

Hermione grimaced. So ... nope. That didn't work. She'd tuck it away for later. She did genuinely smile again when her friend appeared to be very near bouncing out of her seat. Hermione knew that Ginny was happy for a night out, but this display of giddiness was borderline questionable. What on earth had her so excited? She leveled Ginny with a solid stare and said, "Alright. Spill it."

Ginny looked around, as if checking for familiar faces, and whipped her left hand up onto the table and shook it out of her sleeve. On her ring finger was a dazzling emerald - surrounded in a delicate ring of shimmering diamonds. In the dim light of the establishment, it stood out sharply. It was stunning. Almost literally - Hermione glanced open-mouthed back and forth between the ring and Ginny's beaming face.

"Ohmygosh! Ginny! Really? When?! Why didn't you tell me when he did it? What did your mum say? That Bugger didn't even tell ME he was planning it!"

Ginny giggled and turned her hand slightly, causing the diamonds to glint and sparkle further in the uneven lighting. As she replied, she couldn't even begin to wipe the beaming smile off her face.

"He asked me last night. Calm down. I don't even think he knew he was doing it before yesterday! Professor McGonagall stopped by around lunch. She must have brought it with her. It was his mum's. I was just about to run out to pick up more paint, and when I got back, he was all ... goofy. Mumbling, blushing, the whole nine yards."

Hermione did manage to successfully raise an eyebrow at that. Harry had been known to have his moments of insecurity, but after the war he had seemed to really grow into his skin.

"He waited until we were lying in bed."

Hermione blushed slightly at that. Harry was like her brother. Seeing her blush, the younger girl smacked Hermione's arm.

"Oh stop it. It wasn't like that. We were chatting about that awful drawing room, trying to figure out how to tastefully cover up that one wall, and he turns to me and says, 'You know how much I love you, right?' I didn't quite know where he was going with that, but he rolled over and grabbed a box out of his nightstand. He gets up on his knees and gives me this whole speech about my loyalty and love that got him through the hardest years of his life, and how much he appreciates me. I almost lost it - it was the sweetest thing."

Ginny finished her story with a dreamy smile on her face - lost somewhere in her own thoughts. Hermione felt a bit sick at that - she just couldn't imagine Harry being all sweet and gushy. She was truly happy for them though. She supposed she had known it was coming. They had been caught up in some rosey world of their own for a while now.

Hermione grinned at her friend and offered her sincere congratulations. She raised a hand to Madam Rosmerta and ordered two glasses of champagne. Ginny giggled and shushed Hermione throughout the order. She tucked her hand back into her sleeve and blushed.

"Hermione! If this gets out, the bloody Prophet will be all over this and it will be a 3 ring circus!"

Though Ginny was going for stern, she was still grinning like an idiot. Hermione took her glass from the waitress and toasted her friend. She reminded Ginny that word would get out before long, and to embrace it. They had all had their turn in the Prophet over the last few years. It wasn't that horrible.

After the excitement had died down, Hermione mentioned her epic cooking failure. She conveniently left out the parts about how Snape had been the one to ask her to cook in his kitchen, and the remainder of the night with him. She didn't know why, but it suddenly felt like something that needed further data collection before analysis. That, and she suspected Ginny would twist it into some weird romantic notion. She almost shuddered at that. So not where she wanted that conversation to go.

Ginny grinned at her and went there anyway, oblivious to Hermione's thoughts.

"Why Hermione Granger, do you want to learn how to cook to impress someone? Hmmm?

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows ridiculously with that inquiry, making Hermione blush and giggle.

"No! I just need to learn. I can't live on take out forever!"

They settled into an easy banter about Hermione's dismal cooking abilities, and Ginny's wedding plans. Many, many drinks later they stumbled out of the Three Broomsticks, leaning against each other and giggling uncontrollably about the prospect of Molly Weasley's wedding plans for her only daughter. Walking towards Hermione's apartment in muggle London, they didn't see the tall man lurking in the shadows until Ginny bumped into him after stumbling over a bump in the sidewalk.

They both fell back as Hermione had linked her arm through Ginny's. Hermione whipped her face up to see whom her friend had bumped into and gasped. Severus Snape stood in the shadow of a building, snarling down at them both. Talk about a sober up moment. They scrambled to their feet.

"Professor! I'm so sorry!" Ginny gasped out. Snape snarled at them both.

"Miss Weasley, Miss Granger. You ought to take more care wandering through London in your ... current frame of mind."

Ginny giggled. Hermione's eyes widened. What the hell was he doing here? And did he just insult them? "Yes sir. We're terribly sorry." Why was she apologizing like that? He wasn't her professor anymore. They were both of age. He was being rude just for spite! Damn that infuriating man! She could walk home drunk and giggling with her friend if she wanted to!

Severus Snape continued looming over them, his nearly trademark eyebrow raised again. Hermione squared her shoulders, and elbowed Ginny in the ribs.

"I trust you can make your way home without ... incident, Miss Granger?"

Hermione sniffed indifferently. "I should think so. There is no need for your concern."

He dropped his arched features into a glare. How dare that little chit take that tone! She could be killed by some muggle rapist in her state! Foolish girl!

He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and took off at a brisk walk; his black robes billowing impressively behind him. Thank goodness she hadn't been sober actually. He did not need her asking why he was here, in this part of London, at this time of night. She definitely did not need to know that he was in search of the establishment she had brought him Fish & Chips from.

The girls waited until he was well past where they stood, and Ginny dissolved into howls of laughter. Hermione started dragging her on - they were only a few buildings away from hers. The red head's laughter was infectious, and soon Hermione felt the headiness of the sheer quantity of alcohol she had consumed rushing back. They made it up to her flat, and Ginny sent a patronus to Harry, asking him to come 'round and collect her. She was not apparating in her state. Harry arrived a short while later, and after another round of congratulations and general excitement he whisked his future wife home, shaking his head ruefully at his love and his dear friend.

Hermione collapsed into bed, grateful that tomorrow was a day off from the Hospital. She still had to tend to Snape, but that wasn't until much later in the evening. He had looked so ... dashing tonight. Dashing? What the hell? He wasn't some Lord from an 18th century romance novel. She giggled out loud at that thought, earning her a confused look from Crookshanks curled up on her stomach. She drifted off to sleep, fully clothed, smiling. Her thoughts shifting into strange dreams about cooking (successfully) in Snape's kitchen with him reading quietly at the table.