She'd been here before, she realized, when she levitated Severus' body over the doorstep. She instinctively turned left, and felt, rather than remembered where the sofa would be. She was fairly certain she knew the cupboard where the tea things were. And when she dropped to one knee to greet the homely little black and white mutt that was following her slavishly, she knew exactly where the little beast wanted to be scratched.

She felt…something about this place. Something…warm. Good. Like bread baking in a slow oven. She felt…home. She resisted the impulse to believe the feeling, even as she wanted to burrow into it. So preoccupied was she that she jumped a foot when interrupted by a sonorous voice behind her.

"You have returned."

She turned to face him, face and fists clenched against the inexplicable homemade bread feelings.

"So I've been here before."

"Of course you have. But you know that already. Though I was thorough, I am sure that you have gotten echoes by now."

"You obliviated me."

"I did not. I took your memories."

"And you did this why?"

"To protect you. To save you suffering."

She snorted. "I am not the sort that requires protection. And you'll pardon me if I don't take your word for it. Harry, the veritaserum."

Snape sighed. "That won't be necessary. There is a small pensive in the bathroom cupboard. Your memories. You'll find that they are labeled."

She stood, assessing, fighting a pernicious wave of..tenderness? Hope? Love? She shook her head in annoyance. Whatever it was, that feeling could wait for cognitive confirmation before impacting her choices. But he looked so pathetic, sitting there warded and body bound. Vulnerable.

"Fine." She said, resisting an overwhelming urge to hug him. Fulminating, she stalked away.

Now that she was out of his eyesight, Snaped turned his attention to the other, less welcome figure in the room. Obviously the body bind had impacted his cognition to the point of delirium, as he was actually…pleased to see the spectacled menace. Mildly.

"Potter."

"Professor."

"You look…revoltingly familiar. Same hairdresser, I see?"

Harry grinned. "And you've discovered shampoo!"

Snape's snort was involuntary; obviously, the body bind was affecting his sense of humor as well. "Such wit."

Harry grinned. "I try." He sighed and his grin faded. "I certainly hope that you are telling the truth about the reason "Mione cannot remember her first visit here."

"Not that your hopes have any bearing on the matter, but I am."

Potter gave a small grin. "Excellent! Well, then at least I won't have to dispose of your body again."

Snape harrumphed. "That is making a lot of assumptions about your skillset, Potter."

"Oh, I won't be the one killing you, Professor," he said, eyes sparking in amusement, "Although at the moment, I don't see you putting up much of a fight. But believe you me, if it becomes necessary, Hermione can, and will take care of you all on her own."

"So Aurors resort to murder now, do they? And all for a simple case of memory tampering?"

"If this were a simple case of memory tampering, I wouldn't be here Professor." The amusement leaked out of Potter's eyes, revealing the blank stare of a predator. The change was drastic enough to leave Snape unsettled.

"But for the rape of my best friend? For that…" he said, green eyes locking onto brown, "I would cheerfully drop you in an unmarked grave. And I'd make sure that you were alive when I did it. Unfortunately for me, she has claimed the right to that privilege, alas."

Because he was watching intently, Potter caught the vague look of surprise that flitted through the professor's eyes.

"There was no rape here, Potter. What happened between Granger and myself was utterly consensual."

This time, when the jolly glint returned to Potter's eyes Snape recognized it for what it was, the same sort of camouflage Albus had used to disguise the depths of his capacity. "Well, then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" he said, all jocularity.

"As I am currently body bound and warded against both verbal and non-verbal spells, I shall take your word on that."

"I guess you shall."

At that they lapsed into silence.

Harry really hoped that what the professor was implying were true. That he and Hermione had had an affair, maybe even a bit of romance together. He'd loved Ron, too, but since his death it had been far worse watching Hermione's grief than dealing with his own. And regardless, it was past time for Hermione to put her grief for Ron aside and rejoin life.

And furthermore, he really hoped that he wouldn't be called upon to act as undertaker for a man he'd come to admire more and more with the passage of the years. He'd named one of his sons for him after all... But if what had happened between him and Hermione had involved force of any kind? Well, he hadn't been bluffing when he'd said he would end the man with absolutely no regret.

"I really hope that I don't have to bury you, Professor. There are many things I'd love to discuss with you."

Snape looked at his captor with mild horror. "I didn't realize Aurors still resorted to emotionally torturing their captives."

Harry grinned. "Only in very special cases."

Snape harrumphed.

SSSSSS

It took barely a minute, perhaps two, for Hermione to reabsorb the memories from their container. Her head struggled to understand it all…but her heart? Her heart already knew. The feeling of fresh baked bread, home, love. No wonder she had grieved. Everything she wanted was here in this house.

She let herself cry, as she recontextualized her thoughts.

Then she walked out to join the father of her child.

Author's note:

As we draw close to the ending of our tale, I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to review the story. While this story has been drafted since I began publishing, it required quite a bit of polishing up, work that I probably never would have done without the quiet, insistent stream of requests from you guys for completion. And finishing it feels good. So thank you, all of you, for feeding the muse. YOU ROCK! -Theolyn.