Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Nearly at the end! It's a shame the course of true love never did run smooth...


This time Hermione felt no twinge of nerves as she rapped at Severus' front door. It opened with no sign of the man in question, though she heard his voice calling her in. With an amused smile she entered; it was like being back at school, answering a summons to his office.

"Good evening," she greeted, finding him seated before the computer with a puzzled expression on his face. "Hi there, Granger," she added, poking a scrap of lettuce through the bars that she had saved from her sandwich at dinnertime. The mouse accepted the offering gratefully. She frowned for a moment, studying it.

"Severus, why is Granger pink?"

"Experiments," he said shortly. "Muggles enjoy artificially colouring their hair with dyes; I merely wanted to check the exact shading on the batch I created this afternoon."

"Don't dye my namesake," she scolded. "Especially not pink. Poor Granger." She leant on the back of Snape's chair, noting that he had invested in a Muggle-style office chair, leather and on wheels. At least he was taking it seriously now, she thought, suppressing a smile. "So," she asked, "what's the problem with your emails?"

"See for yourself," he answered, opening his email inbox and gesturing. Hermione leant over his shoulder. There were various bits and pieces of spam, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked. Severus scowled at her.

"If you cannot tell that at a glance, I fear for your sanity," he said crossly. "My computer insists on downloading these emails that I have no interest in."

"It's spam, Severus. Just delete it. Whatever you do, don't go clicking on any attachments - look, if you click this button you can mark it as junk mail and it will send it to a different folder."

"Who is sending it?"

"What?"

"Who is sending it? Am I able to reply?" Hermione glanced at him; he was deadly serious. She sighed; adding a section on spam emails to her booklet seemed a sensible idea.

"Most of the time they're sent by automatic scripts, not people. They're trying to either sell you things, or download a virus onto your computer for whatever reason. You can ignore them, although if your computer starts to misbehave like it did after George's visit then please let me know." She started to delete the emails, and shook her head with a soft smile. There was a pause as Snape absorbed this, and then:

"A shame." He folded his arms across his chest. "I would very much like to speak to the person constantly enquiring as to the size of certain aspects of my anatomy." Hermione's lips twitched; she wondered how quickly she could make him blush.

"That's one of the more popular ones; asking if you want an... enlargement, or other assistance with some of the favoured uses for that part of your anatomy. You can find advice online if you need it."

"I do not believe you ought to be familiar with what activities certain aspects of my anatomy favour, Hermione; and I assure you, I am more than satisfied with the size of my... anatomy, and my ability to put it to good use." Much to her horror, rather than bringing a pink tinge to Snape's cheeks she felt her own turn a brilliant scarlet. Leaning over his shoulder was suddenly not such a good idea; she became acutely aware of the scents of various herbs drifting from him, and it hit her that he was very much a man, not a former professor, and she was in fact a woman with a racing heart and burning cheeks in close proximity. She straightened up and took a few steps backwards, clearing her throat before answering.

"I hardly think that's a discussion we need to have," she said, a little too brightly. He was smirking, the bastard. "Anyway, there's no problem with your emails. Just delete them, everyone gets them. If I can find time, I'll try and set up a better filter for you so you won't receive as many." He didn't seem interested in her change of subject.

"Why Miss Granger, I do believe you are losing again," he almost purred, standing and crossing to her. She narrowed her eyes and glared up at him, meeting his eyes and being startled by the show of emotions lurking within the black depths - he was amused, he was mocking her, and... something else, something that made her unaccountably warm and more than a little hopeful. He leant in close, and she shivered involuntarily, suppressing the urge to close her eyes.

"Foolish Gryffindors," he said mockingly, before straightening up. "I believe you can see yourself out, Hermione." She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and then a frantic, messy, panicked thought hit her.

"Owl me about the marketing," she said brightly, and was out of the door before he had a chance to say goodbye. She had to talk to Ginny.


Back in the safety of her flat her panic lessened, and she was able to calmly kneel before the fire and make an extremely sedate, composed Floo call to Ginny.

"Hermione! How's things?" her friend's cheerful voice came from the other side. Hermione counted to three to make sure her voice was steady.

"I think I worked out your puzzle," she said.

"Uh-oh. I'll be there now, stand back. Better still, go and put the kettle on." Hermione obeyed and within a few minutes her fireplace flared green and Ginny stepped out, two boxes in her hands.

"This is the one from George, I brought it in case you wanted to experiment with them. Don't eat them. This is Honeydukes' finest." One box was flung onto a chair, the other presented to Hermione with great ceremony.

"I don't think I need them," Hermione said. Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Yet," Hermione amended. Ginny nodded and waved her wand; two mugs levitated from the draining board and tea bags flew into them.

"Now," she said, sitting down. "You've worked it out?"

"The answer hit me just now," Hermione admitted, impressed at her composure. "You and Lavender believe I have an attraction to Severus, or that the potential for such exists."

"Hermione," Ginny warned, "you're being all clinical about this." Hermione met her friend's eyes and then sat down with a shuddering sigh.

"I can't believe I didn't see it," she admitted. "I guess I just never thought of him as a man, in that way... but it makes sense, doesn't it? I've owled him more this week than I have the rest of you combined, and none of it was business related or even remotely professional. I smile when I see his owl. I was happy when he asked me to pop over tonight to fix his computer. He's intelligent and funny and cutting and keeps me on my toes. I don't get butterflies or tingles or any of the romantic crap; maybe that's why I didn't see it."

"So what happened tonight?" Ginny asked quietly, fixing the tea. Hermione studied her hands carefully.

"He made a comment... we were teasing each other, I was trying to make him blush, and it backfired on me. I ran when I realised I wanted him to kiss me." Ginny let out a low whistle.

"I wasn't sure how serious it would be," she admitted. "We've all talked about it - oh don't give me that look, Hermione, we were worried and more than a bit nosy - and we worked out quite quickly that you would make a good pair. You're both wickedly intelligent, you have similar senses of humour, no time for idiots, and you're very passionate about what you believe in. He'd stop you from getting bored, and we all know how Snape feels about relationships. You need commitment, and he is the ultimate example of that. Once we worked that out, we all knew it was just a matter of time." She opened the chocolates and pinched one before sliding them over to Hermione, who stared at them without really seeing them.

"When you say it like that, when you look at it logically, it makes sense. But we've only been working together for what, three weeks? It's far too soon for any attraction to have developed."

"Three weeks now, Hermione. You already know him, though. It's not like starting out with a stranger; you know more about Snape than you do most guys out there. It's more like picking up where you left off. Lots of girls had crushes on him, though they'd never have admitted it." Ginny shrugged. "I can't see it, but there you are. He's an ugly git."

"Actually, he's not that bad," Hermione admitted. "He could do with sorting his hair out, and he's got that nose and those teeth, but his eyes are something else; and he does look good in a Muggle suit. He hides it under those robes but he's actually not that bad; a bit skinny, if anything."

"You've paid attention to this?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione groaned.

"Not consciously, no! But it's all true. And it's not like I'm up there for Miss Magic 2003, is it? I can't complain about looks. I guess it's just that, after spending time with him, you don't really notice it any more. It's not important, is it?"

"No, it's not." Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her mug. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do?" Hermione asked sadly. "He's a client. I won't breach my professional boundaries, no matter what you might think. Even if he was interested - which I doubt - I couldn't act. I think the best thing I can do, for both of us, is to finish the work quickly and just walk away."

"Can you walk away?" Ginny had a knack for asking the questions Hermione didn't want to answer.

"I have to," she said, avoiding looking too closely at it in case the answer scared her. "Besides, it's not like it's love or anything, Gin. It's just a fleeting attraction. There'll be other men."

"If you say so," Ginny said, her doubt evident. "If you're not going to do anything about it, and I really think you should - you don't want regrets about this after - then for Merlin's sake, Hermione, don't go falling in love with him." Hermione burst out laughing.

"Love? Ginny, do you really think I would? It's nothing, I swear it. You and Harry, that's love. Ron and Lavender, too. This is just contact with an intelligent man, the only contact I've had with a man outside our circle in years - it's an automatic reaction. Love doesn't happen this quickly anyway. It's nothing," she repeated. Ginny sighed.

"If it's nothing, then why did you panic so much?" Again with the penetrating questions. Hermione resisted the urge to throw a cushion at her friend.

"I was just worried about the implications," she said firmly. "I don't want to endanger things now that work is taking off."

"If you say so." Ginny set down her tea, mostly untouched. "One last question for you to think about, Hermione. Are you arguing to try and convince me, or yourself?" She ducked through the Floo just as Hermione's self-control snapped and the cushions rose off the settee, hurtling towards the point where Ginny had just been sitting. Hermione lowered her wand, startled to see it in her hand, and sighed.

"Love," she muttered scornfully, firmly ignoring Ginny's pointed questions. "I doubt it."


Severus,

Further to your queries about marketing agencies, I have arranged an appointment with you for your preferred choice for tomorrow at one thirty. I will not be attending this appointment with you as I feel that my somewhat bossy personality may overshadow your personal vision for the company, and I would not jeopardise that.

In the meantime I will be locating potential premises, as you stated you would like a physical presence rather than merely finding stockists for your goods. I will compile a list of potential locations along with their size, rent and other rates, and forward this to you as soon as it is complete.

Good luck tomorrow; please let me know how it goes.

Sincerely,

Hermione

There. Hermione gave a satisfied smile as she sent the owl winging its way off to deliver her latest missive to Snape. No extraneous chatter, no casual comments; strictly business, the way it ought to be. If she was going to get over this infatuation with him, then she was best to keep correspondence professional and would be better still to finish the contracted work as soon as possible. Best just to get Snape out of her hair and focus on other things. She was picking up new clients daily, and a stream of sheepish Aurors had paraded through her office to be fitted for Muggle clothes and taught how to speak casually in a Muggle setting. She was even running a workshop on it next month; it was amazing how things had taken off.

And really, it was all down to Snape. She cursed silently. Everything came back to him in the end. He had taken a chance on her and led to others doing the same. Malfoy had even said, If it's good enough for Snape, it's good enough for me.

No matter how she looked at it, she owed Snape more than she could ever repay. The last thing she wanted to do was add to that debt by following him around like a schoolgirl mooning after a boy. For one thing, they had gone to great pains to establish she wasn't a student any more.

"This isn't helping," Hermione scolded herself. "Come on now, Granger." Her thoughts were instantly sidelined as the image of a perturbed pink mouse appeared in her mind, nose twitching fiercely. She suppressed a smile and cursed again. Everything comes back to him, she thought desperately. No wonder she was infatuated; he was invading every aspect of her life. She couldn't escape him.

What she needed now, she decided, was a break. Hermione threw on her cloak and strode from the office, informing Sandra that she was taking a long lunch and any clients would just have to wait. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, only that fresh air sounded like a good idea. Her feet wound their way automatically to Flourish and Blotts; she could do the walk in her sleep now. She doubted there would be anything new, but the beauty of a book shop was that it always had something she hadn't seen.

As she was passing Fortescue's she heard a voice calling which shook her from her distraction.

"Granger! Is all that hair stopping you hearing or something?" It was Malfoy. She sighed, turning to face him with her arms folded across her chest.

"Can I help you, Ferret?" To her surprise, he gestured to the chair opposite himself.

"As much as it pains me to say this, Granger, I'll buy you something."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She stepped a bit closer, keeping her voice low enough not to draw attention to what was actually being said - git or not, he was still technically a client now. "Did the infamous Draco Malfoy actually offer to buy ice cream for a Mudblood? You must be desperate for the image change." Much to her surprise, the blonde boy winced.

"Don't use that word, Granger. Just sit and have something before I change my mind." She frowned but sat, nodding across to Florean Fortescue; she was here often enough with Ron that he knew what she liked.

"What can I do for you, Malfoy?" she asked curtly. He spread his arms out in a gesture of peace.

"War's over, Granger. School's over. No point in fighting any more."

"Not since you lost, you mean."

"More like since Astoria decided to play hard to get," he grimaced, which wasn't actually a denial of her point. "She was so impressed by our contract that she agreed to join me for dinner tonight. Much as I hate to admit it, I owe you." Hermione sighed, relaxing her aggressive stance.

"I only accepted your business proposal, Malfoy. You came up with the idea yourself. Just goes to show," she said as a strawberry sundae was deposited in front of her, "that you are actually capable of independent thought." She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that have been good to know, back in sixth year?" Draco studied his own ice cream in silence.

"Things are different now," he said finally. "Let's just leave it at that." Hermione prodded a strawberry with her spoon thoughtfully.

"I'm glad things are going well with Astoria," she said stiffly. It was harder to leave things in the past with Draco. Snape, for all she had thought he was a traitorous bastard, had never actually physically hurt her; she'd had too many nightmares of Bellatrix's treatment to be entirely comfortable with the boy who had stood by and let it happen. She pulled her sleeve down unconsciously to cover the scars. Draco's sharp eyes spotted the motion.

"I won't apologise because I can't," he said calmly. "I have no excuse, Granger. I was a scared kid. The best I could do was refuse to identify Potter."

"That's something, I suppose." She started picking at the sundae, not really hungry but determined to get something out of this unexpected meeting. "Why me, Malfoy?" she asked, not meeting his cool grey eyes. "Why use me to impress Astoria Greengrass?"

"You were the best choice." He sat back, ticking points off on his fingers. "Muggleborn. Famous. Intelligent. A bleeding heart if ever I saw one - come on, Granger, SPEW? Really?" She refused to rise to the bait. "Plus, as I said, if you're good enough for Severus Snape, then you can be damned sure you're good enough for a Malfoy." There was that name again. She couldn't escape him after all.

"You're his godson, aren't you?" she asked, finally looking up from her ice cream. "Why do you say his name with such hate then?" Draco was the one to look away, pale spots of pink on his cheeks, most likely anger she surmised. His words confirmed it.

"How can you trust a man like that?" he almost spat. "He betrayed everyone, Granger, even himself. He said he'd protect me. Where was his protection when my father was in Azkaban and I was initiated? Where was he when the Dark Lord was in our house and we were prisoners? He turned his back on everything but the memory of a filthy Mu- ggleborn," he finished lamely, remembering his resolution to turn over a new leaf. "He's twisted. Sometimes I think he should have died in that Shack. At least then we wouldn't have to put up with him now that things are over."

"That's horrible!" Hermione threw her spoon down angrily, refusing now to touch anything bought with Malfoy money. "He risked everything to stop Voldemort- oh stop wincing, Malfoy, it's been five years. He went through so much for us - for you, too, you pig-headed prat. Did you ever say thank you? Did you ever apologise for making his life more difficult?" Draco didn't meet her eyes. "I thought not."

"He was just a teacher to you," mumbled Draco. "He was more to me."

"He still would be, if you weren't such a git. He didn't betray anyone until they broke his trust. He fought for the people he cared about, even though no one cared about him. At least you had friends, Malfoy. And family. And him." Draco was studying the cobblestones intently. Hermione stood, making a show of pushing the ice cream back towards him.

"I'll honour our contract for the sake of business," she said coldly. "But until you can act like a human being instead of a self-centred prick, stay away from me outside of the office. And don't worry," she added, surprising herself at how nasty her tone was. "I won't be telling Astoria what you're really like, even though she deserves to know. We're not all complete bastards." The flicker of surprise in his eyes showed that he was expecting her to owl his intended immediately. Hermione stalked away haughtily, not calming down until she had slammed her office door behind her. Once in the space she called her own, she let out her frustration in a slow, shuddering breath.

"I've got it bad," she muttered. Her defence of Severus Snape, and the anger she had felt at the way he was being treated by his own godson, had taken her by surprise. More surprising was the fact that she hadn't noticed herself growing more and more attracted to the sarcastic, infuriating, brilliant man. Hermione had always prized herself on her intellect, yet this had completely passed her by. How could someone so intelligent and focused fall so quickly? She groaned when she saw a letter in her in-tray, with his spiky scrawl on the front.

"I'm in trouble," she said quietly, picking it up. The response was quite succinct, thankfully.

Hermione,

I will inform you of any decisions reached and look forward to seeing the product of your research.

Sincerely,

Severus

She knew, right away, that the sudden reversion to a curt, professional tone in her previous letter had not gone unnoticed. What he thought of it she had no idea, but really, it didn't matter. It wasn't as if he had any feelings towards her, and for her own sanity she needed to pull back. She didn't have time for relationships, or infatuations, or even one night stands. She definitely didn't have time to fancy Severus Snape.


That night she spent an hour in the bath, staring up at the ceiling and cursing herself for sending that letter. She was only pulled from her confusion and self-loathing by a quick succession of raps on her front door. She wasn't expecting anyone- Harry or Ron would have Floo-called first- so she threw on a dressing gown and ran to the door, opening it cautiously.

"Can I help you-" she started, stopping as she saw who stood there, wearing an extremely uncomfortable expression.

"Severus?" she asked. He nodded, once.

"I apologise for my intrusion," he said stiffly. Hermione stepped aside for him to enter, her brain so thrown by his sudden appearance that she didn't know what else to do. Once the door was shut and he was standing in her living room, she managed to get her mouth working again.

"I'll just- I mean- I'll go put something on," she stuttered, retreating into her bedroom and shutting the door. She threw herself onto the bed, biting the pillow to stop herself from hyperventilating. What the hell was he doing here, at this time of night?

It was the work of only a few seconds to hit her body with a drying charm and throw some clothes on, but it took a few minutes before she felt calm enough to emerge from the bedroom. Snape was now seated on the settee, Crookshanks kneading on his lap. Hermione narrowed her eyes at her cat's betrayal.

"Severus," she greeted, more composed now. He looked up from where he was stroking Crookshanks. "What are you doing here?" He looked away, lips twitching into an almost-smile.

"I'm not quite sure," he admitted. Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion and she sank into a chair.

"That's very helpful," she said.

"I do not recall ever promising to be helpful."

"True enough." She decided to wait him out, and sat back with her hands folded in her lap, the very image of patience. At last he seemed to reach a decision.

"I must confess that I was a little confused by your recent missive," he said slowly, eyes intent on Crookshanks. "I began to wonder if I had in some way offended you." So he had noticed, Hermione thought. Instead of making her feel better, it made her feel much worse.

"You haven't done anything," she said honestly. It wasn't like he'd slipped her a love potion, after all.

"I am relieved to hear that." Crookshanks, damn the traitor, was purring so loudly it was echoing in her small flat. A part of Hermione felt relieved that she wasn't the only one to have warmed to Snape. The silence that descended, apart from the infernal purring, was heavy and awkward.

"I was concerned," she admitted at last, not able to wait him out any more. Gryffindors weren't exactly renowned for their patience. "About maintaining professional boundaries, I mean. I was worried I was intruding too much on your personal time."

"I see." He paused, and then looked up at her. Once again she found she couldn't read the emotions in his dark eyes, though there was most definitely something lurking there. "I did not share your concerns."

Was he saying he didn't mind her presence? Did he want to maintain the odd friendship they were slowly building, or was he willing to tolerate it for the sake of business? He was the most impossible man she'd ever met. Harry and Ron were easy to understand, but with Severus Snape, each sentence carried more meaning on its own than anything her two friends had ever said. He was a true puzzle.

She loved puzzles.

"I'll pop the kettle on," she suggested, feeling a need to get out of the room. "Ginny brought some Honeydukes chocolates over yesterday; if you can find them and Crookshanks hasn't been at them, help yourself."

"My thanks." She scuttled into the kitchen and slammed the kettle on before gripping the counter, trying to calm herself. Her heart was racing, she noted absently. Her palms were a little more clammy than usual and, damn it all, when he had met her eyes her knees had gone weak. Whether it was being aware of how she felt that changed it, or whether she just hadn't noticed before, the signs of her attraction were now all too clear. It may even be, she admitted to herself, the fact that he had turned up, in person, to check he hadn't offended her. She'd never had anyone be so thoughtful. It usually took weeks for Harry to notice. Ron, she thought ruefully, still hadn't noticed about some of the times he'd inadvertently insulted her. Snape had not only picked up on the change in tone, but had come to sort it out straight away.

He wasn't quite a knight in shining armour, but she wasn't exactly conventional herself. She peeked out through a gap in the kitchen door to see him standing at her bookcase, perusing the shelves. Would it really hurt to leave things to happen at their own pace?

So, she thought, trying to find the sugar. He was intelligent, brave, fiercely loyal, utterly brilliant, loved books, and got on with her cat. Speaking logically, she hadn't stood a chance. It was no wonder Ginny and Lavender had spotted it so early.

It was definitely the knowing that changed things, she mused, stirring the tea and spinning out the making of it as long as possible. Now that she realised how she felt, she was more aware of it and, if it was possible, she was falling even faster for it. Knowing was dangerous, something which she was sure Snape could appreciate. But he wanted to be friends, she was sure of that, and felt grateful for it. Friends, she could probably manage.

At last she knew she couldn't delay any longer and carried the tea through. He had found the chocolates, for they lay open on the table. Hermione set the tea down and pinched one before passing it over to Snape.

"Honeydukes finest," she said with satisfaction as Snape popped one into his mouth. "Can't beat it."

"They are certainly better than your tea." She looked up, shocked, at the comment. Even Snape looked surprised, and he glanced down at his cup suspiciously.

"What?" she whispered. Snape opened his mouth again.

"I must confess, for someone with such intelligence you often have difficulty seeing what is before you." Hermione sniffed the tea; it was fine. "I did not come here tonight for tea and chocolates, Hermione. You must realise that." She stared at the chocolates in horror, flipping the lid over - it wasn't Honeydukes.

"Severus, stop talking!" From the look on his face, he was trying to, desperately. His eyes were panicked.

"I was concerned that you wished to end our contact, Hermione. I do not want that. I have been following your business for some time. You may not be aware of it, but when you came to St Mungo's to visit me, I could hear you speaking to Rita Skeeter. I had never heard anyone speak so highly of me." The words were spilling from his mouth.

"Severus, you've eaten-"

"-I wished to help you succeed as thanks for the respect you gave me, even attempted to maintain for me in Hogwarts in spite of my behaviour towards yourself, Potter and Weasley-"

"-one of George's experiments-"

"-and now I find I have deeper feelings for you than I ever intended, given my history with relationships in general and Lily in particular, and I do not want our association to stop at business."

"-Confess All Candies." Those last words came out as a whisper. Snape stood before her and she didn't need to be an expert in Snape-speak to know how he felt; angry, humiliated, afraid; and at last she had a name for that final emotion: attraction.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible. "I forgot Ginny brought them over. Severus, I'm so sorry." He placed his hands on her shoulders, studied her for ten seconds - she was counting - then strode out, slamming the door behind him. Hermione sank to the floor. She wasn't quite sure, but it felt as if her world had stopped spinning and was slowly falling apart.

Deeper feelings.

He felt the same as she did. He had wanted to take it further, to see where it would go. Now he had left and would most likely never come back.

"Damn you, George Weasley," she whispered, lifting her fingers to her cheek and encountering tears. "Damn you."