A/N: Hello there. (: I hope you still with me! Here's this week's chapter; it's a little longer than the previous ones. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4

Every time the Yule season approached and it became imperative to venture into any of London's shopping districts, one thought would never fail to cross Hermione Granger's mind: navigating the shoppers crowd in December was either a very brave or foolhardy attempt. Hermione was always inclined to believe it was the former, previous House affiliation notwithstanding.

It was with great relief that she sank into a booth seat at her favorite chip shop hours later. For awhile, she rearranged her shopping bags and packages into some semblance of organization, all the while keeping an eye on the door for Luna and Astrea to arrive. Finally satisfied with her handiwork and since there was no sign of her friend, she opened the menu to peruse despite the fact that she had been ordering the same thing since she was eight: chicken nuggets to start, followed by battered haddock and chips with a side of baked beans.

She didn't have long to wait, however. No sooner than she had gone through the list of appetizers, she spotted Luna making her way over to her table clutching what appeared to be a huge swath of cloth to her chest.

"Hello, Hermione," said Luna, giving her friend a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you."

"You, too!" Said Hermione, as the two of them sat down. "Is that -?"

Shifting the bundle so Hermione could get a better look, a tiny face, topped by a shock of platinum blond hair, peered drowsily out.

"Yes, this is Astrea."

"Isn't she turning one in January?"

Seeing the look of confusion on Hermione's face, Luna smiled. "She is, but she's a little on the small side. She takes after her father when he was her age."

"And how is he?" inquired Hermione, as Luna settled her daughter in the pram she had just deftly unfolded single-handedly, and began tucking her daughter in.

"Draco is fine. He's still in Stockholm settling the move, closing bank accounts and the selling of the house, but he'll be returning with the rest of our things in a week or two."

Luna had been in Sweden where she had been searching for new specimens of a new magical creature she had found - Gnarklespurts. She had been there for a few months when Draco Malfoy moved into the same hostel, in the suite right across the hall from her. Within half a year of getting to know each other again as roommates, and the pair decided they liked each other enough and the lack of privacy in the hostel not so much to move into their own house. Draco had taken Luna out on a date one night, and Astrea had come along right on the anniversary of their first year together.

Hermione had yet to meet Draco in his capacity as Luna's partner and truth be told, she had her own misgivings. Despite this however, she maintained a polite interest whenever his name came up as Luna seemed happy enough with him. Now that they were moving back to England, however, Hermione had a feeling she would get to see for herself how much less of an ass he was than before.

Astrea slept throughout their meal, so Hermione had a chance to hear about Luna's sojourn in Sweden uninterrupted. Then, as Luna wrapped up her tales, her daughter woke up and started fussing and Hermione updated the blond on what had happened with Ron.

The way Luna Lovegood saw things, it was simple, really. The problem lay in the fact that Ron and Hermione never moved in together.

"Take for instance," she said, handing crackers to her daughter, "Draco and myself. The way his mother sees it, we've done it all out of order - moving in before we started going out - and maybe she's right. But the truth is, it was being in such close quarters that made us realize we were really quite well-suited for each other.

"I know everyone is concerned, Hermione, but he's a different person now. And you should see him with Astrea; he's a wonderful father," she said, turning to smile affectionately at her baby, whose pudgy arms were outstretched for more biscuits.

"May I?" asked Hermione, nodding her thanks at Luna as she took the package of animal crackers and began a game of 'Animal Herder', which involved making the cracker pretend to run around before 'running' into Astrea's open mouth.

"You're pretty good with children, Hermione," said Luna. "Are you still set on not having any yourself?"

Hermione couldn't suppress a fond smile at Astrea's excited giggles. "Well if they were all as adorable as you, Astrea, I just might change my mind," She said, tickling the baby under her chin and prompting another round of gurgling laughter.

Turning serious, she said, "Ron expected us to have children soon after we were to have been married, but I always said I wasn't sure I'd be able to juggle a career and a family and he'd accuse me of making excuses. But the truth is, I know it's possible...

"I don't know, Luna. I'm starting to see that maybe a part of me already knew Ron and I were not particularly suited and that it would be over sooner or later. Maybe I just wasn't ready to accept it yet."

Luna smiled. "I'm glad you're starting to see it that way," she said. "I always thought you wanted your relationship with Ron to work out so badly that I was worried that you would put aside your own dreams just to see it happen."

"In a way, I wasn't given that option - Ron decided that a relationship with someone else would work out better and left me."

"Everything happens for a reason, Hermione," said Luna serenely. "I think you just figured out what that reason was."

"I just wish the aftermath didn't hurt so much," mumbled Hermione.

"Pain always passes, given time," said Luna. "For now, I think you have other things to think about now anyway - the mysterious notes, being one of them."

Thinking about the notes she had received the previous week made Hermione frown slightly. A few days after her visit to Grimmauld Place, a second one had arrived while she was at work, bearing the same message. It was, if nothing, mildly annoying.

"I'm not worried, although that person should be," Hermione retorted. "When I find out who he or she is, I'm going to make the boils I gave Marietta Edgecomb back at school look like a freckles!"

"In case the person wishes you harm," cautioned Luna, "it can't hurt to be cautious anyway."

"You're right. I'll keep an eye out."

With that, the girls moved on to discussing other things - Ginny's upcoming nuptials among them - with Astrea siting comfortably in Hermione's lap for the rest of their rendezvous.

The following Friday, Hermione was at her desk at work, arranging her notes on a project she was overseeing in chronological order when she received another note - the third so far. Only this time, something had arrived with it: a lumpy object wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Her brows creased in annoyance, she turned over the parcel in her hands and realized it had been shruken down. It occurred to her that she knew someone who might be able to trace and identify the magical signature so she grabbed her purse and the note and made her way through the Ministry to where Auror Potter's office was.

There, Harry waved his wand over the bundle to check for jinxes or hexes, making it glow various shades of blue. When that revealed nothing, he began to mutter a string of words under his breath, his eyes squinting in concentration, while tracing a symbol Hermione realized as the rune for Dagaz over various points of the package. It seemed to be taking Harry awhile and she was beginning to fidget in the chair she'd conjured for herself. To pass time, she stood up and crossed the small office to a shelf adjacent to Harry's slightly cluttered desk. She reached up to retrieve an ochre clay vase that had a motif of a set of Quidditch balls before tapping the Snitch with her wand twice. The vase reverted into its original form, a bottle of Old Ogden's; Hermione thought her week, topped off by the latest delivery, warranted a stiff drink.

As she was about to uncap the bottle, the door to Harry's office flew open. Before she could Transfigure it into a vase or hide it, a familiar red head popped in, calling out, "Join us for lunch, Harry?"

Seeing his best friend was otherwise occupied and didn't look up at the sound of his entry, Ron Weasley turned to the other person in the room.

"Hermione - hi," he said awkwardly, stepping into Harry's office.

"Hello, Ron," she returned evenly.

"What are you doing here?" he blurted out and Hermione tried not to bristle at his question. Realizing his gaffe, he amended, "I mean, it's nice to see you."

Hermione would have answered if not for the tall, slender woman wearing a cream-colored robe over a light blue bandage dress who brushed past Ron into the office. Catching sight of Hermione, the blonde beauty strode over without breaking stride, her right hand outstretched.

"I'm Ava Klyne," she said, as the women shook hands. Up close, Hermione could see her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue that she couldn't look away from. "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you? Ron's told me all about his ex-girlfriend, of course." She glanced down at the Firewhisky that Hermione was clutching and continued, "He never mentioned you were prone to hard drinking, though. I mean, isn't it a little early in the day?"

The smile froze on Hermione's face and she briefly considered chucking the bottle in her hands at the back of Ava's head, as the other woman crossed the room back to Ron's side. As Ava wrapped her arms around his elbow, wearing a rather smug smile on her overly madeup face, Hermione's grip on the bottle tightened and Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I-I'm not - I wasn't," began Hermione.

Ava merely smiled knowingly before turning to Ron and asking him in a simpering tone if they could please go to her favorite deli for lunch. Just then, Harry looked up and tried not to grimace at the obvious tension.

"You just go ahead, Ron - I've got to go over some files for an urgent case I'm working on," said Harry, gesturing to the mess on his desk and trying to sound apologetic, although Hermione could tell he was glad to have an excuse. "I think I'll just grab something off the tea trolley later."

"Er, all right then," said Ron, giving Hermione an unsure glance. In that moment, Hermione said a prayer to whatever deity was listening that he wasn't going to - "What about you Hermione? What do you say to joining us for lunch?"

Hermione did her best not to appear incredulous and she thought her effort deserved an award of some kind. Ron could be insensitive sometimes, but surely even he knew that between dining with him and his girlfriend (who was staring at Hermione through slightly-narrowed eyes) and going full-throttle on a Cirrus 2003 - or whatever the fuck the latest broomstick was - with a blindfold on and her hands tied behind her back, Hermione would take her chances with the broomstick.

"That sounds great, but I'm swamped too and I think Harry's got the right idea," she managed to say neutrally.

"Shame," said Ava like she meant it, making Hermione reconsider throwing the bottle at her and maybe breaking her perfectly straight nose. "Perhaps some other time. Come on, Ron," she singsonged, taking hold of Ron's hand and fairly dragging him out of the room.

Ignoring the apologetic look Ron gave her over his shoulder before the door closed behind them, Hermione turned to Harry who held up his hands. "Like I told you," he shrugged, "she's a piece of work."

Huffing, Hermione flounced over to her chair and threw herself into it. "She's a bitch, is what she is," she snapped. She glanced down at the Firewhisky in her hands, but remembering Ava's snide comment about it being too early in the day, she banged the bottle down on Harry's desk.

"So any luck with that?" she said edgily, gesturing at the parcel Harry had been going over.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "I tried my best but the person didn't leave any magical signature. The person knew not to leave any magical residue behind that would allow us to track him or her. It's safe to open anyhow."

Hermione took the package from him and started to unwrap it, her heart beginning to pound in anticipation. When she tore off the three layers of brown paper, what she saw made her mouth dry.

"What is it?" asked Harry, leaning to get a better look at the mug Hermione was holding.

"I-It's a mug I got on holiday," she explained, turning it over in her hands, "the one I took with Ron just before we broke up. I got it from the bed and breakfast we stayed at, and it's been sitting on my mantel."

Harry looked skeptical. "Are you certain it's the same one?" He asked.

"Positive. The shop owner let me have it for half price because of the little chip on the bottom," she said, turning it upside down and pointing out the little flaw to Harry, who looked astounded at the revelation. "This means that that - little shit has crossed the line. He's entered my house and violated my privacy!"

"I think you need to take precautions. Look, if you want, I can easily arrange for someone to -"

"No," said Hermione firmly, lifting her chin. "I'm not going to let this intimidate me. If he wants to mess with me, I'll let him have a taste of what he's in for when I find him."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione was steadfast, although Harry made her promise to send her Patronus for help any time at all. When Harry was satisfied with her assurance that she would send her otter if she ever heard so much as a bump in the night, she returned to her department.

When the tea trolley came around, she found she didn't have much of an appetite after all.

By the time she reached home that evening, Hermione didn't feel up to sending for her usual food delivery. Instead, as soon as she had kicked off her pumps and dropped her handbag by the door, she went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, grabbed the fluffiest bathrobe she had from her closet and headed for her bathroom.

By the time she climbed out of the tub, the bubbles had long disappeared. She towelled off, got dressed in an old t-shirt and a worn pair of pajama bottoms, and poured herself another glass of Chianti, ready to stretch out on the sofa to finally read the book Severus had loaned her.

Looking at the cover, something seemed amiss. However, it was only when she cracked open the book did it occur to her what it was - the book was brand new. A quick glance at the publishing date confirmed that the copy in her hands had only been printed that year. Why did Severus say it was from his own collection when he clearly bought this recently? she wondered.

Then, as if her thoughts had summoned him, Severus appeared in front of the blazing fireplace with the telltale crack of Apparition.

Startled, Hermione sat up and gasped, "What are you doing here?"

Severus' expression twisted into what could be passed off as apologetic for him. "I thought you'd be out. I only wanted to drop off another book you wanted to borrow. It's Dark Curses of the Dark Ages," he explained, holding the tome out to her. "I'll be off then," he said, turning to Apparate.

Feeling unexpectatedly touched by his gesture and feeling some company wouldn't go amiss, Hermione quickly called out "Hold it!"

Severus froze in an almost-comical pose, his foot stuck out as if to take a step.

"Since you're here, you might as well stay," she said to him, "I've just settled down to read the book you left the last time and I'm sure I have some material you might be interested in, if you'd like to join me."

Severus appeared to think about it for a moment. "And if I do," he said slowly, "is there a chance I might end up in your bed tonight?"

Hermione quirked a smile. "That depends on whether we manage to make it that far... but you'd have to stay to find out, wouldn't you?"

Severus looked at her with hooded eyes and Hermione knew he wouldn't be going anywhere. Allowing herself a little smile, she gestured at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases behind her. As he was looking for something to read, Hermione summoned a second glass for him and filled it with wine.

When Severus had found an old herbology periodical to look at, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa Hermione was reclining on. Just as he began to read, however, he was interrupted.

"Did you buy this for me?" Hermione spoke up suddenly, holding up the book she was reading.

Severus turned his head slightly so that he was looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. "If I did?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You didn't have to."

"I thought you'd want your own copy," he said simply. "It is, after all, an excellent book."

Hermione flushed, finding herself flustered and not really knowing why. "Well, thank you," she said, and immediately reverted her attention to her text.

They sat side by side reading in companiable silence, the only sound in the room being the crackle of the logs burning in the fireplace. When Severus let out a slight harrumph a while later, she looked up at him.

"This Theodore Gabbalot claims to have discovered two species of Sopophorus beans, but I know for a fact that that imbecile couldn't find his own ass with two hands and a map. He more likely sent whichever poor sod who had the misfortune to be his apprentice out on the expedition and claimed all the credit."

"How would you know that?"

"It may surprise you, but not many people wanted to align themselves with a suspected Death Eater in those days; when I was furthering my own research, I was almost forced to apprentice under him myself," he replied. "However, there was another herbologist who owed Lucius a favor and I worked with him instead."

"How Slytherin of you to pull favors instead of sticking it out with less than the best like the rest of us," Hermione said, a teasing note in her voice.

"Well surely making up one-third of the famed Golden Trio earns you plenty of favors," said Severus sardonically.

"It's still not fair to take advantage of it," Hermione insisted.

"I've tried to drill this into Potter's head time and time again, although it seems you have difficulty grasping the concept as well - a lot in life isn't fair, Hermione." Severus spoke deliberately, as though explaining things to a particularly obtuse student.

"Surely you've heard that the reward of things you work hard for are sweeter -"

"Idealist," sneered Severus, but Hermione could tell he was joking from a glint in his eye.

Thrown by the sudden camaraderie between them, Hermione blurted out, "Severus, what are we doing?"

"Why, I believe we're getting to know each other," answered Severus like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not an idiot, despite what you'd like to think. I want to know why." She persisted. "The Severus I got to know would have waited out the evening - not bothering to talk to me - until he got some."

"Gods, woman, are you saying I've wasted my time tonight?" he said in mock-annoyance, then looked steadily at her before giving her an answer anyway. "Because awhile ago, a certain harpy I recently had the misfortune of getting reacquainted with pointed out that she and myself were not friends and since she's not completely horrible company, I've set about rectifying it."

Herione was silent for a moment, processing what he said before asking, "Why did you return after that first night we... you know."

Severus turned away from her and reached for his glass of wine. Instead of drinking it, however, he stared into his glass as if divining his answer from its depths.

Although he remained silent for a few moments, Hermione instinctively knew better than to push. She sat still, her eyes roving the face of her ex-professor, whose looks, she knew, had been constantly denigrated by his students and peers alike.

To her mild surprise, she realized she was beginning to like what she saw: his dark eyes, often narrowed to slits in concentration or condescension, were an attractive shape. His lips were a little too thin, but when they were adroitly doing unspeakable things to her, it hardly mattered, and while his admitted-large nose threw his features a little off-kilter, she thought it lent itself to a face that had character overall.

When he finally spoke, Hermione had almost forgotten what the question was.

"You remind me of somebody I used to know... I suppose I was drawn to the familiarity," he admitted, still not quite willing to look her in the eye.

Hermione hesitated, "Are you referring to Lily?"

Severus' eyes darted to her face before he became engrossed in staring at his glass again. "Actually, I was talking about myself - when I was younger... Although I'll concede that you and Harry's mother share certain similarities."

"Such as?" she asked. She knew Lily Potter was a touchy subject with him but her curiosity getting the better of her.

Severus levelled a look reminiscent of the ones he used to reduce many a Hufflepuff's knees to jelly at her before dropping his voice down to a husky whisper. "You know, I could think of a few other things I'd rather that mouth of yours be doing than ceaselessly flapping at me."

Hermione became acutely aware of her mouth going dry as she attempted to answer in what she hoped was a seductive voice, "And what would those things be?"

"Why don't you be a good girl and come over here so I can show you?" Severus suggested, leering at her as he set aside the magazine he had been reading.

Hermione shifted until she was pressed up against the side of his body and she could put her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a languous kiss. As their tongues danced sensuously, Severus slowly slid his hand up under Hermione's shirt along her spine, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. In response, she nipped his bottom lip. She felt rather than heard the low growl that Severus let out as he began to kiss her more aggressively, and he leaned into her forcing her to lie back into the sofa.

Just then, the fireplace began to sputter. Hermione sat up, instinctively pushing Severus off her and onto the floor between the sofa and the coffee table, hurriedly righting her hair and clothing.

"Hermione?" she heard an unfamiliar voice call out.

Hermione walked over to her fireplace and sank to her knees. "Spencer?"

"Hi, sorry to Floo call you so late," he said, sheepishly, "it's just that Harry and I were talking about our Christmas plans and he happened to mention how you'd take him and Ron to Trafalgar Square every year because you wanted to watch the yule carollers and see the tree. But since the thing with your ex and Harry being too busy this year, I thought maybe I'd go with you. To Trafalgar Square."

Hermione stared at him, her brain processing what she's just heard. "You mean you want me to take you out?"

"Um, yeah," Spencer grinned. "I mean, it's not a date, if that's what you're asking," he said quickly, "unless, of course, you're amenable to it being one, then I would love for it to be one, too."

Behind her, she heard Severus let out a snort from his spot on the floor when he had remained, but Spencer seemed not to have heard it.

Hermione paused, thoughts racing through her head. What was the harm in a date, really? After all, Harry had been hinting that he would set them up sooner or later and if she went out with his friend already, maybe he'd be off her back about it. Besides, she did get along well enough with Spencer. It was worth a shot, at least.

"A date would include dinner, wouldn't it?"

"Uh..." Spencer appeared a litle confused. "I suppose so?"

Seeing the nervous look on his face, she grinned and put him out of his misery. "Well I know a few great restaurants near the Square," she said.

Relief washed over his features, and he broke into a wide grin. "That's great - I'll be looking forward to it! Um, I'll pick you up, then?"

Severus snorted again, and Hermione quickly answered to cover the noise, "Sure, that sounds great! Why don't you owl me the details?"

"Yes, right. I'll get right on that, and just let you get back to what you were doing... Thanks, Hermione. You won't regret it, I promise!"

Smiling at his enthusiasm, she shut down the Floo connection and returned to sit on the floor next to Severus who was sitting up and smirking.

"Desperate much?" he sneered.

"Severus!" she said reproachfully, "He was just nervous, that's all!"

Forgoing giving her an answer, he snaked his arm around her neck and began to pull her towards him. Moving out of his grasp, she snapped, "What are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow at her tone. "I believe we were interrupted earlier by that overeager pup."

"That overeager pup happens to be someone I'm going on a date with soon."

"So?"

"Severus, I'm not doing this again."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's not a committment," he said, leaning forward and brushing his fingertips along the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

"It doesn't seem right," she said, although even she could hear the lack of conviction in her own voice.

Severus's hand came round to the front to caress her belly, dipping it so he was touching her knickers underneath every few strokes. "You know you'll have plenty of opportunities to reject my advances if that date actually goes well, don't you?"

"I'm not rejecting you," she protested, her already-frail resolve weakening.

"I know," he said smoothly.

In one quick move, he had her on her back on the floor, her pajama bottoms pulled off, and her knees pushed apart. Grinning ferally up at her, he lowered his head tantalisingly slowly and he slid his hands to push her shirt up until his fingers were over her breasts. Teasing her nipples, he began to lap the outline of her slit in agonizingly slow strokes.

"I think it's time for bed," she gasped, stilling his fingers and Apparating them to her bed.

They landed on her bed with her straddling him. Severus made to sit up but Hermione pushed him roughly back into the sheets and made quick work of pulling off her own shirt, undoing his trousers and yanking them off, leaving him to remove his own top. Bracing her hands on his chest, she raised her hips and allowed him to guide himself towards her entrance.

There was a pause during which their eyes locked but then Hermione suddenly lowered herself onto him and her eyes fell closed as she gasped into the darkness at the sudden feeling of fullness. She began to ride him in earnest for a few minutes, her eyes fixed on the headboard instead of his face, before he grabbed her and rolled her over. He pulled her legs so they were wrapped around his waist and held her face in his hands as he began to pound relentlessly into her, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Yes," she gasped when he hit that spot deep inside her, "right there right there right there."

It didn't take more than a few more thrusts before she felt the familiar tightening of her walls, signalling her impending orgasm. When she started to come, she clung to him and buried her face in his shoulder, her fingernails digging painfully into his back. Soon after, Severus lowered his head, letting out a low guttural moan into her neck as he thrusted even harder, his seed spurting deep inside her. Then, he rolled off so he lay on his back beside her. They stared up at the canopy of her bed trying to catch their breaths. After awhile, Severus spoke up.

"Granger," he said, unconsciously reverting to her last name, "I think you have some issues - not that I'm complaining."

"Oh, shut up. Just enjoy this while it lasts," she retorted, rolling so her back was to him and falling asleep shortly after.

When she woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, she realized he had already left instead of staying the night the way he usually did on weekends.