A/N Unbeta-ed as of yet. Sorry for the wait. And no, I'm not German, so my grasp of the language is non-existent. If anyone can guess where the village and pub name come from, you get an e-cookie.

CHAPTER SIX—Tomorrow I'll Miss You

"'Beautiful creatures like to be seen,' said the eldest. 'It is the nature of beauty to be seen. Only ugliness hides itself away.'"

-"The Greek Gods" Evslin, Evslin and Hoopes

Hermione woke with the sour taste of dried spit in her mouth. She swiped the back of her hand across her lips and propped herself up on an elbow. Her head hurt. She was wondering what could possibly have woken her when she heard the sound of flapping by her window. Scrambling out of bed, she ran over to let a brown owl into her dormitory room.

"Now why haven't you come through the Great Hall?" She mused, taking the letter clamped in its beak. The Ministry of Magic's crest was embossed on the envelope. Hermione's hands trembled slightly.

"What's this?"

Her eyes quickly skimmed over the letter's contents and then she shut them tightly, counting to ten. Opening her eyes again, she gazed down at the letter it confirm it wasn't a dream.

With a happy shriek she rushed out of the dormitory room in search of her friends, her previous despair almost forgotten.

"The Ministry wants to hire me!"

Ron and Harry jumped slightly in their seats, startled by Hermione's sudden entrance. The letter flapped merrily in her hand as she waved it about in the air.

"Give it here."

Harry took the letter and carefully read it out loud.

"Dear Miss Hermione Granger,

Upon receipt of your N.E.W.T.S results, the Ministry of Magic requests your presence for a work placement interview."

Harry didn't bother to read the automated end greeting, but gazed up at Hermione excited, and slightly in shock. "They haven't even picked the new Minister yet, and they're already recruiting you!"

"It is Hermione we're talking about here."

Ron and Harry looked excitedly at one another and then grabbed Hermione's arms. They dragged her out of the Gryffindor common room and to the former Headmaster's office.

"Well come on! We have to go tell Professor McGonagall!"

All the remaining members of the Order ended up congregated in the office, Professor McGonagall in the middle, a little teary-eyed. When Kingsley arrived she shoved the letter into his hands and asked him what he thought of it. While everyone had been quick to congratulate Hermione, they were all still puzzled over one thing. Who was this letter from? The Ministry was in supposed chaos.

Kingsley read through the letter slowly and then folded it carefully. "There's only one department that functions autonomously from the Ministry and wouldn't be affected by the vacant Minister's position."

Realization dawned on Hermione's face.

Kingsley had a small frown on his face as he handed the letter back to Hermione. He looked at her thoughtfully and then nodded to himself. "It seems the Unspeakables wish to recruit you, Hermione."

There was a small buzzing around the room as everyone reacted to the news. Some looked delighted. Some looked disturbed. Hermione's face was completely blank.

"Are you all right, Hermione? What are you thinking?"

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry a little dazed. "I don't know… everything before this morning seems so much like a bad dream."

Severus cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder and then brought out a small teacup from his pocket. He was standing at the back of a shop in muggle London, hidden from the busy streets. Tapping the cup with his wand, he muttered, "Portus". He knew he would only have a few minutes and quickly touched the handle of the porcelain cup.

He felt a jerk behind his navel and vanished instantly from the spot. He grit his teeth, waiting for the squeezing sensation to stop, and just when he felt he wouldn't be able to handle any more, he felt firm ground beneath his feet and stumbled onto grass.

His head was spinning and he felt extremely tired. Making the

Portkey had used up a substantial portion of his magical reserve as he had just traveled a longer distance than normal. However, he could not afford to waste time, and picked himself up from the ground. He could hear the sound of water and soon found a small lake. Hurrying over to gravelly bank, he smashed the teacup against the rocks. It shattered easily into small pieces, and he pushed them into the gently lapping water. That would have to do.

Enjoying the feel of the shockingly cold water against his hand, Severus cupped some and splashed it against his face. He rubbed a slick hand against his sticky neck and felt pleasantly cool. Walking back to the grass, he lay down and stretched himself out against the ground. Digging his wand out from his pocket, he contemplated it against the backdrop of a blue sky, and then snapped it. He could almost feel something inside him twinge at the sound of cracking wood, but quickly dismissed it. Feeling the crumbling dirt beside him, he propped himself up on an elbow and dug a shallow hole into the dirt. He had to break his wand into smaller fragments to make it fit inside the small recess, but it soon did and he covered it back up with the loose soil.

He heard a few 'pop's in the distance, and contentedly laid his head down on the grass again. It felt nice and cool against him, he fancied taking a nap.

Severus closed his eyes and could hear indistinct murmuring, and the sound of footsteps drawing closer to him. It was only a few more moments before a boot toe was nudging his shoulder. He waited another moment before opening his eyes to see the faces of two wizards.

The one who had nudged him asked him something in German. Severus just smirked and shook his head. The two wizards consulted each other, and then gestured for him to sit up. He thought for a moment about resisting, but then obliged them. They had their wands drawn.

The first one asked him something again, although this time he spoke slower and louder. Severus shook his head again, laughing inwardly at the spectacle, and then clearly enunciated, "English", while pointing to himself.

Realization dawned on the two wizard's faces and they nodded to each other. They tapped their wands to their ears and mouth, uttering a translation charm.

"Englishman?" The first one asked.

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

Severus smirked. "Having a nap."

The second one cocked his head. "In the middle of a field?"

Severus shrugged. "I do enjoy the fresh air."

"Where's your wand?" The first one asked.

Severus shook his head again and presented his empty hands. The two looked at each other knowingly, and then back at him again.

"He couldn't have done it."

Severus could only chuckle inside his head.

"Did you see anyone come by?"

"No, I was looking at the clouds."

They sniggered at that and left him alone, searching through the grass. They cast charms to detect traces of recently performed magic, but Severus was sure all traces of him had already dispersed and dissipated.

They came perilously close to the lake, pushing the gravel around with their boot toes. The search was quickly deemed fruitless, however, and they made their way back to Severus. He sighed inwardly with relief.

"You've just come here then/"

Severus nodded.

"Have you been here before? Do you know your way around?"

Severus regarded them carefully before slowly drawling, "I haven't seen much apart from the train station."

The two wizards chuckled again, amused by the coolly confident man.

"I would appreciate it if you could perhaps direct me to an inn or hostel?"

They clapped him on the back and helped him to his feet. One tapped his ear and mouth with his wand, explaining it would be easier to charm him into understanding German, rather than the entirety of the wizarding village to understand English. They walked, instead of Apparating, and Severus had the change to fully appreciate the quaint little community. They caught a glimpse of Muggle Germany on the periphery of the village, and Severus thought it rather resembled Muggle London. Modern cities all looked the same.

Die Brucke, the wizards called the town, was similar enough to Hogsmeade despite the difference in architecture and products in the storefronts. They steered him into the direction of a squat, stone-bricked inn. It had a wizard riding a horse, all painted in blue, as its sign. It was called: Der Blaue Riter.

The clientele glanced up curiously at their entrance, but then went back to their pints and papers. The innkeeper was the only woman in the establishment.

Severus' two guides brought him over to the innkeeper, who was wiping down mugs. Her skin was coarse and dark, like one who had worked their entire life out in the sun. Her eyes were clear and sharp, though, and she scrutinized him like a hawk.

"He needs lodging, he's from England."

She raised an eyebrow as if under-whelmed. Severus glared back, unmoved.

She crooked a finger and beckoned his two guides over to talk to her in closer proximity. They murmured together, and one of the wizards looked back at Severus as he uttered a single, guttural word. The translation charm took a moment to recognize the term and interpret it into something Severus could understand. When it finally processed, he heard the word "squib" ring in his ears. He cringed inwardly. He knew going into this that masquerading as a squib was going to be difficult. He would just have to learn quickly if the Germans held a deeper prejudice against them than the English did.

"Be good to Chloe now, she's wicked fast with a wand.'

They jostled him playfully on their way out, the chimes above the door tinkling at their exit. Severus stared moodily at their backsides until they disappeared, before directing his faze to the innkeeper, Chloe.

She still had that scrutinizing look on her face, considering him as she wiped down mugs. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she set down her cloth and seemed satisfied with what she saw.

"Come on." She jerked her head towards a flight of stairs behind the bar. Severus followed her up the small flight to see a small corridor.

"Bathroom. Bedroom." She pointed them out before descending downstairs. "I'll be back in a minute, I have to close shop."

Severus cautiously opened the door to the bedroom, stifling his surprise. It was her bedroom, the signs of a woman's long-time occupation were all too apparent. He quickly shut the door, as if afraid of intruding. He searched the corridor for another bedroom in vain; he only found a small linen closet and kitchenette.

Finally tired, he stepped into the small bathroom. It was cramped and old and smelled slightly of mold. Still, it was clean. He turned on the taps and splashed his face with cool water. Over the sound of running water he heard Chloe coming up the stairs again, and then felt her presence by his side soon after. She regarded him coolly from the doorway.

"You need a haircut."

"I've already had a haircut."

She gave him a wry smile and then plucked her fingers through his uneven hair, amused. He saw himself in the mirror and had to admit the cut was rather rough.

"Here." She brought out a small stool and gestured or him to sit. He complied meekly but then held up a hand when she brought out her wand.

"Could you do it with scissors?'

She gave him a puzzled look, but then stowed the wand away. "Have you only ever cut your hair with scissors?"

When he didn't respond, he fancied he saw compassion flitter across her face. She thought he was intimidated by magic, it being a foreign element to a squib. This wasn't the case, but Severus was still determined to stay as divorced from his magical past as possible. He also felt the ritual he had begun by cutting his hair had to end in a similar fashion.

She brought out a small pair of scissors from the medicine cabinet. Running her fingers under the sink tap, she damped his hair. The cold droplets caused his scalp to tingle and he felt his body temperature give a pleasant drop.

She ran her fingers through his hair and then began to snip. The sharp blades lightly skimmed across his head, and each time he felt his muscles tense and a tingle go up his spine. There was the tension of whether the scissors would cut him and the release when they severed his hair instead. He could feel the warmth of her body behind him. He could feel stirrings of awakening in his sleeping groin. He hadn't been touched by a woman in years.

"There," she said and put down the scissors. His hair was much neater and tapered at the back. She allowed some 'swish' to the front locks and a few, stray tendrils obscured his eyes.

"Thank you."

"It's danke." With that she banished the hair and pulled him up from the stool. She wasn't ignorant to the reactions her ministrations had on him and felt no shame in exploiting them. He followed her willingly to the bedroom.

Severus lay beside Chloe in her bed, wrapped up in a separate blanket she had brought for him. After their first sticky fumbling, she had cooked some food for him and even drew him a bath. It was he that sought the comfort in her arms after, and she did not refuse him. By then it was night and they lay sleeping.

Wasn't Chloe afraid of letting strange men into her bed? Didn't she leave herself vulnerable by allowing someone she had barely known for a day into her house? The questions puzzled him for only a moment until he saw the wand-holder beside her bed. Her magic was always within arm's reach and he, a squib, wouldn't be able to handle a wand anyway. His supposed inability effectively neutered him of all danger, and she was the one in control. If Severus balked at being placed in such a position, it was only for a moment and quickly replaced with a warm contentment.

He could always steal her wand, but he didn't want to. He was content to live like this. Not as in live with Chloe, Merlin above, but like this – comfortable and detached. Not always alone. Perhaps he had thought too badly of his reawakening. Perhaps he would enjoy a second life after all.

All pleasant thoughts he had vanished upon sleeping.

In his sleep Severus was dead. Whether it was a dream or not was difficult to discern. All Severus knew was that it was the most peaceful he had ever felt. Where was his body? He had no body. Was he thinking? No. No thought or fear or anguish trickled through his mind. He was floating in a complete absence of substance and light. He was dead. He was in an infinite plane of sleep and he never wanted to leave.

A shaft of light broke his serenity. He could feel his eyelids warm from the heat of light. Consciousness slowly crept back into his being. No, no! He did not want to be. He did not want to leave this place – waking ripped him away from inky rest and back into the world of heaving chests, tangled limbs and the unendurable torture of thought.

Severus looked up at the ceiling, panting and sweating. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go back.

Closing his eyes tight, his teeth gritting, he silently cursed whatever fool god saw fit to grant him life again.

Hermione sat by her room window, looking at the moon.

It had been a day bustling with the miracle of having too many things to distract her so she hadn't a second's pause to ruminate on her gamble with death. It was only now, in the hours she should be sleeping, that she had time alone with her thoughts.

Plans for Hogwarts to be rebuilt were already underway. Professor McGonagall had ambitions for the school to be re-opened for the next academic year. The Ministry was in an uproar, and the Wizengamot had already isolated itself in its meeting hall to determine who should be nominated to succeed Scrimgeour as Minister. Everyone was sure that the person the Wizengamot named would receive the position without question.

Everyone, Hermione included, would only be sleeping at Hogwarts for a few nights longer. Then Molly was going to take everyone back to the Burrow. When things began to settle down Hermione would have to take her N.E.W.T.S. Ron and Harry were still deciding whether or not they wanted to take theirs with her or go back to Hogwarts for the year they had missed. Hermione suspected Harry would return; he missed the school so much and had thrown himself into rebuilding it. Ron would probably follow suit.

The wizarding world was rebuilding itself. It was reveling in a modern renaissance and everyone was swept up into it.

The letter in Hermione's hand fluttered in the night breeze.

There. That was her beginning. The letter. The job with the Unspeakables. Her life during the war, her life of running and fighting, as a student and as a child was over.

Was her life of regrets and "I should have" and fanciful notions gone as well? If she accepted the letter and took a job with the Ministry she'd be taking a step into an unknown future. But she'd be going forward.

Hermione looked at what she could see of the Whomping Willow and the Shrieking Shack below it. What good would it do to dwell on some dream she had in the Forbidden Forest? It must have been a dream and nothing more. Wishful thinking on her part that she had done the impossible and tricked death. Foolish of her to even think it – even she wasn't that clever. Besides, she could be charged with necromancy for dabbling in such things.

Resolved, Hermione pushed all thought of Professor Snape to the darkest corner of her mind. She would only the view the incident as a demonstration of her own folly. The world was starting up again and she didn't want to be left behind for chasing the memory of a dead man.

Hermione finally fell asleep, the letter tucked underneath her pillow. She dreamt of a dying silver doe and woke up the next morning not remembering, and confused as to where the tears drying on her face had come from.