Chapter 9: It's All Fine By Me

Packed and ready to go, Hermione stood waiting in the entrance hall. The last bandage change went well, and she'd convinced Romana and Luna to head to Liverpool a night early. She'd borrowed a communication mirror to allow quick consultation if needed as she wasn't certain Madam Pomfrey was equal to performing a Patronus under pressure.

She'd decided to wear a little black dress, which should suit wherever they headed. Sheer silk gathered at each shoulder and crossed below her breast to hug her waist before flaring back out at her hips. The hem was scandalously short in the front, so much so that she'd heard that no woman over the age of 35 ought to be seen in it. She wasn't that old yet, but being a witch had advantages, such as the sticking charms that prevented the sheer material from slipping to reveal more than she intended. She loved this dress because it made her feel like one of the Grecian Goddesses, her hair up in complicated braiding that allowed her curls to hang just so. She'd taken advantage of new cosmetics to bring her Gryffindor pride to the forefront, with her own version of the smoky eye in burgundy, her brow and cheeks subtly dusted in gold. It being the depths of winter, she chose a pair of black leather high heeled boots, charmed for comfort. Her handbag contained everything she needed for the weekend.

Voices above drew her attention as she waited, fidgeting. She was excited to go out - it was too long since she'd last gone clubbing. The escape from responsibility was quite welcome, and the makeup and dress were most likely enough of a disguise. No one would recognise her, except perhaps her own Mother, and there was little danger of that.

The silhouette that appeared didn't belong to the expected attendant. Professor Snape ambled into view and stopped at the top of the stair, looking down at her. She couldn't see his face clearly, for the light behind him was brighter than the dimly lit front hall.

"Is that you, Healer Granger?"

"I'm off duty, sir." It was not comfortable to hold a conversation with him so high above her.

A pause preceded his next comment, making her wonder what he must be thinking. "Aren't you starting out rather late?"

"Tempted to take points, sir?" She tilted her head. "No, I think not. You prefer detentions."

Smiling crookedly, Professor Snape descended the stair to meet her. He maintained eye contact, and Hermione's heart stuttered in confused excitement as she felt the weight of the man's singular, intense attention. "You and your friends never seemed much affected by point deductions."

She lifted a shoulder. "What you took I usually made up for in other classes."

As he joined her on the ground floor, she decided that it was unfair that he was so much taller than her, in spite of the heels. She missed her uniform at that moment; this is not what she would ever consider wearing around a patient. Or a teacher. It would be wicked to want to be noticed by such company.

The Professor's nostrils flared as he took a sniff, sampling the air from respectable yard away. "Mitsouko?"

Good lord! His sense of smell was that good? Blushing, Hermione looked past the Professor's shoulder and wished that Luna and Romana would hurry up. "Yes. It was a Christmas gift from my Mum."

"She has good taste." He didn't give Hermione much of a chance to respond, following up with another question, "And where are you going?"

Hermione had a list of clubs that were vetted for her by Teddy Lupin, since he was a dedicated club aficionado. She wasn't about to tell Snape any of it. "Oh. Just out." She bristled. Who did he think he was, anyway? "With the girls."

As if on cue, Romana and Luna rushed down the stairs, both smiling. They looked wonderful, although they'd both worn colour, making her feel a bit of a crow. Luna looked like a sylph, shining and pearlescent in a fluttering scarf dress of white. Romana wore a long-sleeved peacock blue sheath of stretch lace, fashioned so that the admirer might get a glimpse of perfect skin while all of the essentials were artfully camouflaged by the floral design.

Forgetting her impertinent company, she threw her arms wide and exclaimed, "Don't you both look perfect!"

Romana accepted Hermione's hug with air kisses, while Luna stood back to admire her in turn, letting out a low whistle. "Damn, Hermione!"

Laughing, Hermione let go of Romana and gave Luna a hug. "Right. We're all here. Shall we set off?"

An unexpected male drawl interrupted Hermione. "Just a moment, it's my turn to be admired." Draco had joined them and spun for the ladies' approval. He'd put in an effort, a crisp white shirt covered over with a silk evergreen jacket and tightly fitting trousers, whose colour Hermione didn't want to note in case of being accused of caring.

"Yes. Yes, we know, Draco. You're a stunning example of a wizard." Crossing her arms across her chest, she commented wryly, "One of the girls tonight, are we?"

Tucking his hands into his pockets, young Malfoy smirked, knowing full well that Hermione hadn't expected him to come along. "Thank you, Hermione. It is lovely to see you as well. I thought I'd come out with you ladies. Care for a knight to guard your virtues?"

Luna's tinkling laughter was unnaturally loud. "Oh, very funny!" She stepped over to his side and tucked a hand in his left elbow. "Hermione, he thinks we need guarding."

Hermione rolled her eyes. And here she'd hoped for a relaxing night. "Were there any masquerade themes? Carnival, perhaps?"

"Oh, I do love fancy dress parties!" Romana bounced in her delight. She had more curves than the Stelvio Pass. Stepping up to take Draco's right arm, she went up on tiptoe, planting a kiss on his perfectly chiseled alabaster cheek.

Draco's eyes softened in pleasure.

Trying to not be nauseated by the display, Hermione glanced at Severus, wondering if he'd already guessed her punch line. His eyes were hooded, watching the party with silent interest.

"I wouldn't have to look at that smug face all evening, and that'd be fine by me." Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder as she pushed the door open, letting in a gust of cold Scottish night air.

Draco looked Hermione up and down, taking blatant liberties with his eyes on her person. "I've been told my face isn't my best feature. Hard to believe, I know. Be good, Granger, and I might let you see more."

Hermione sensed a dark tension flowing into Snape, and a glance confirmed that the wizard was shifting from affable to offronted. She had to take care of Draco before it went any farther. "Stop eyefucking me, asshole." She hoped Snape understood she wasn't talking to him, although it was difficult to determine with his mask-like expression.

Luna chipped in playfully, "Hermione, you should learn to take a compliment."

"I might if I were offered one. That was self-serving drivel. Pathetic." She pointed a finger at Draco who was opening his mouth in an unwise attempt to retaliate, "Enough out of you. Any more sass, Draco, and you'll be singing Soprano. Let's go." Time to get moving.

Romana laughed, "Oh that I'd want to see. Would it last for karaoke tomorrow?"

Thinking himself quite the comedian, Draco started to move his lips as though he were answering, but no sound came out.

"I am not sure that this is an improvement, Hermione." Luna wasn't impressed, but Romana giggled obligingly.

Hermione smiled winningly at Draco. "Miles better, trust me."

Draco led his ladies to the door with a haughty sneer.

Pausing as the others passed through before her, Hermione nodded to Professor Snape and offered him a real smile. "Have a pleasant evening, sir. Don't wait up!" Not waiting for a reply, she slipped out into the waiting cold.

Lucius looked up as Severus entered the study, and it was immediately evident that he was upset about something. "Something amiss?"

"Your son." Tall and brooding, Severus walked over to the fireplace and as he leaned against the mantel, he blocked the light just like a stormcloud.

Closing his book with a snap, Lucius waited for the rest of the explanation. His friend must be truly angry, as he was an eloquent man. Never at a loss for words.

"- Is a cad." Severus turned an accusatory glare on Lucius, as if it were his responsibility.

So Draco succeeded in his plan. "What has he done now?" He knew his son, so he had a rather good idea.

Severus snorted. "He's gone out with the ladies, against Healer Granger's clearly stated preferences."

"That isn't out of character. He rejoices in irritating her, and the angrier she is by the end of the evening, the more delighted he will be. I suspect he might be trying to get hurt. I'm afraid he's a masochist."

Shaking his head, Severus turned to him. "I am amazed she hasn't hexed his bollocks to the moon."

"That's a real curse?" Amused, Lucius wondered what it would be like to get moon-dusted bollocks back after such a trip, or if the Healer would be obliged to regrow them.

His friend seemed cheered by the idea too. "It will be if Draco doesn't leave Granger alone."

"She has a mean right hook too, but as I said already, he is almost definitely a masochist."

Snape took in the statement and there was another stretch of silence before he asked, "What of Mrs Scamander?"

Lucius rubbed his palms together as he considered the question. "I am not certain what you mean."

"You seem to be enamoured of her charms, or is it your intention to step aside in favour of Draco?"

Stricken, Lucius wondered what Severus saw that he did not. He had not considered his son as competition. "Mrs Scamander is a delightful woman."

"She does seem unaccountably fond of you." Snape was looking at him, and his vision was entirely too clear for Lucius' liking. Was he using Legilimency? Or just reminding him that he could. Smarmy bastard.

Fine, if he wanted to know, Lucius would tell him. "Was there ever a more innocent spirit, or one more gentle?" There was no danger of her hearing.

Severus pushed off from the mantle and approached the lounge chair. "I wouldn't know, but Lucius, be honest with me. Does she know how you feel? Have you openly expressed this admiration?"

Lucius sat up straighter. "Why? I cannot formally court her." He would do it in a heartbeat if it were proper. As it stood, he could not be considered socially acceptable company for such a woman. Doubly true if it became known he was wooing her while she stayed with them in the cottage.

"And yet you've not allowed her out of your sight until this evening. Don't tell me you stayed behind in deference to my invalidity? I assure you I am capable of putting myself to bed."

"I thought she'd prefer to enjoy the time with her friends." Lucius did want her to be happy. He'd just be in the way, wouldn't he?

"Draco, you'll notice, had no qualms about butting in. What is more, for his boldness, he left the house with both Dr Lundar and Mrs Scamander on his arms, while he… how did she put it?" Severus stopped to laugh, before continuing his explanation, "Granger has talent for the colloquial turn of phrase. He 'eyefucked' her in a most unwelcome manner."

Lucius knew Granger would never say such a thing if there weren't a grain of truth to it. "I hope you are joking."

"Certainly not. Those were her words. Now, the way I see it, we could either sit here and wait until Sunday to see what happens, or we join them to even out the odds."

"That only seems polite, doesn't it?" Lucius controlled an impulse to grab a broom and fly after them.

Severus sounded pleased with himself. "Very proper. She is a guest in your home."

"Right." Lucius pushed off from his chair, looking down at his robes. One could practically hear him sorting through his wardrobe in his mind, the wooden hangers clacking with rapid alacrity.

"And Lucius?"

Lucius paused, looking at Severus.

"Consider loosening up a trifle. Ask her out on a date. If you truly wish to pursue her, then show more of what you feel, not less. She is unique."

A genuine smile warmed Lucius' eyes. "Thanks. It is good to have you back, Severus."

"Right. Off you go. Mrs Scamander was wearing white silk with feathers in her hair. In case you were interested."

Never Ever Land was aptly named. Hermione, within the first hour, had determined that she was never ever coming back. It wasn't all bad, but she probably should have suggested a smaller venue for the first stop of the night.

She could have taken a cheering solution before she left, but she didn't think of it. Scouser lads were as pretty to look at as Luna said they were, and a few even had pleasant manners. She was out of practice in interacting with strangers and as a consequence she felt obliged to take a drink every time she was tempted to hex someone.

She made an exception for the bloke who did try to slip something into her cup. She gifted him with a darling little curse that would cause testicle-crushing pain any time he looked at a woman with sinful thoughts on his mind. The first ear-curdling wail of pain could just be heard over the techno-beat of "Scream and Shout." It did much to improve Hermione's mood. Bring the action.

"Hermione, you must do this next one with us!" Romana was pulling on Hermione's arm. "It was my special request. Come, come, I insist. You need to get out here."

Knocking back the rest of the cider first, Hermione let her friend pull her out on the dance floor as the familiar strains of a 1970s cult film favourite started to play, causing a wave of cheers to rise up about the room. And of course, Romana knew all of the words by heart. So did Draco.

"It is astounding;

Time is fleeting;

Madness takes its toll."

Hermione rather thought they'd make a lovely Riff Raff and Magenta. As she joined in with just a jump to the left, her mind amused itself with imagining the rest of their little company fitting into the cast. None of them really had the stage presence for Frank N Furter, although she supposed Harry might pull it off if he were there.

"Snape!" A voice was calling to her. She assumed it was her own thoughts trying to fill the parts.

Yes. If he decided he wanted the part, he'd do nicely. But the idea was ridiculous. "No, he'd never agree."

"Looks like he has, Grangey-cakes." That wasn't her voice. It was Draco next to her, pulling his knees in tight.

Romana sang, "In another dimension, with voyeuristic intention…"

"You're taking the mick." She didn't believe it for one second. There was NO way that Severus Snape would be caught out in a Muggle dance club.

Draco sang, "With a bit of a mind flip."

"You're into the time slip!" Romana was really into it.

"And nothing can ever be the same." Draco jumped, looking about.

Romana pouted at Draco, "You're spaced out on sensation?"

Finding the man, he mouthed, "Looks like him to me." He was pointing so vigorously that Hermione was worried that the bloke would notice them. "Like you're under sedation!"

"It can't be Snape." Hermione was dead certain there could be no chance that her patient would have followed her there. Nor would he have been wearing a royal blue silk shirt unbuttoned, or… good Godric. Leather trousers.

Luna had a hang of the pelvic thrust now, "Let's do the Time Warp again!"

"I dare you to ask him to dance." Draco was in Hermione's space now, close enough to be heard without shouting.

"You're completely mental." Hermione was feeling strangely drawn to the man, she couldn't look away.

Draco taunted her with a leer. "At least I'm not a scaredy cat. Merlin's rod, witch! Are you a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff?"

She pushed Draco, trying to encourage him to go away. "That is complete shite, Draco, and you know it. Now, shove off."

He wasn't having it, using his strength to resist her as he bent to speak directly into her ear. "Look. Here's what you do. You stalk over there, turning on all of your witchy charm. Do that, and you won't need to get his attention, you'll already have it, trust me."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco kept going, "Shush now, I'm talking. Next, you ask him to dance. It will make his night, the lucky fucker. Have a little fun, love. What have you got to lose, eh?"

Hermione stood, chewing on a nail, watching her prey. The bloke had a dangerous aura about him, and he managed to pull off guyliner. Perhaps it was the aquiline nose that made him look like Snape. There wasn't a bandage about his neck, or any scar. A shove at her back caught her unprepared. "Go on. Go get him, girl."

The music shifted, and she let the drum beat take her. Before she realised she'd started she was in the middle of it. Draco was right, it was easy to get his attention.

Almost as soon as she started to walk towards him, working her hips in a way that her boots made look ten times sexier, he locked eyes with her. He made no move to escape, one eyebrow lifting in silent query as if to say, "Who, me?"

She didn't want to shout, so instead she licked her upper lip slowly and extended a hand of invitation. The man's eyes widened, and she fancied that she'd hit the mark as he accepted her hand.

"Love is like a bomb, baby… c'mon get it..." She knew this one, so she sang along as she pulled him onto the dance floor. At first he was slow to respond, but by the time they got to "Sometime, Anytime, Sugar me sweet…" He'd caught on. By the end of the first verse, he was anticipating her moves, and had managed to impose a more structured framework. She had no idea what the dance was called, but she liked it. Draco was right, she needed this.

A crowd favourite, everyone jumped and clapped in time to the driving beat, joining in on the chorus.

During the instrumental Hermione mouthed, "Have you a name?" It was too loud.

"Eh ere?" He shouted in a parody of an elderly man, one hand behind his ear.

She stretched up on her toes, closing the distance between her lips and his ear, "Name? I'm Hermione!"

"Ah, now then. Toby'll do." He spoke with a deep, velvety baritone. She loved it instantly.

"You are a quiet one." He spoke into her ear, rocking her along to the song. She'd been preoccupied with his masculine nearness and what it was doing to her. The whisper of his breath sent a shiver down her back.

What kind of conversational gambit was that? "Mmm." She'd no practice in picking up men, nor was she sure what exactly to do with one in his situation. She wasn't a blushing virgin, but Hermione Granger had never picked up a man in a club. Yet.

As if aware of her awkwardness, Toby prompted her teasingly. "Innit proper to have a chat?"

When she didn't answer immediately, he went on listing topics. "Fashion, music, drinks, football, em… not politics or church. Have your pick, duck."

When she looked at him in consternation, he shrugged, "Just being friendly."

Moving to a thinner part of the crowd, he'd hooked an arm about her shoulders making it easy to speak in his ear when she did think of something to ask. "Did you come with friends, Toby?" Why did he smell so good?

"Only the one and he's gone off." His dark eyes flashed as he scanned the dance floor, looking for someone in particular. "Buzzin ta meet his bird. She came ahead, see."

"Oh." She was cheered to learn he wasn't there with a girlfriend of his own. All alone, poor fellow.

He turned those sharp eyes back to her. "Yourself?"

"Some mates from school." She could see Luna's white fluttering form dancing beside a tall man of her own, all in white. She was getting rather familiar with him. Hermione watched in fascination, wondering if that was the alcohol or pure Luna.

Toby spoke, bringing her back to what she was doing. "Ow old are you then? Nineteen?" He didn't seem serious, but it stung.

She wagged a finger at him, "Never ask a lady her age. Where's your manners?"

"Back at Eton, sweetheart." His grin was as charming as it was unrepentant, but he still was a pillock, bold as brass.

For extra measure, she turned her back to Toby. A guitar solo inspired her to roll her hips in a sequence she'd picked up that time Ginny had convinced her to take belly dancing lessons. Hermione secretly loved the dancing, but she couldn't get past the misogynistic history surrounding the practice. At this moment she was not above using it to her advantage. Pour some sugar on this, Toby.

It did shut him up for another verse and chorus, and she did not move away when he placed a hand on her hip.

The music continued on in the background, the crowd pulsing in time with the beat. "You've got the peaches, I've got the cream…"

Toby hooted across the floor, calling, "Luc, m'cock!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw the man dancing with Luna straighten, raising a hand in acknowledgement.

"Who?" Hermione's mind, swimming in alcohol, shied away from the obvious.

Toby twirled her back around, and she lost sight of them. "What's that love?"

She jerked her head in the general direction. "That bloke dancing with my friend in the white. You know him?"

"Nah, just thought I did. Don' fash yer pretty head." He pulled her in closer, swaying his hips along with the music, with considerable natural talent or perhaps practised skill. Hermione decided that it didn't matter. He was getting into the song. Pity it was nearly over.

Hermione lapsed into silence, focusing on the music, the dance, and the man there with her.

As the song came to its conclusion, Toby offered to buy her a drink and Hermione let him.

They stood at the bar, and now that he wasn't so very close she started to think more clearly. "I need to go check on my friend. Will you be around much longer? I enjoyed your company."

"Could be, don't know just yet. Can I get your number?" He passed her the cider she'd asked for.

A number? It took a moment for her to catch on to his meaning. "Oh, sorry. Don't have one. Work would never leave me be if I carried a phone, so I don't."

Toby's eyes, which she'd discovered were a dark, nearly black shade of brown, stared at her, as if trying to communicate something with telepathy. "Well then, tra fer a bit."

Reluctant to go, she stretched her neck and pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks for the drink, Toby. It was lovely to meet you."

As she walked away, she looked over her shoulder, marking his position. The farther she walked away from Toby, the harder it was to keep going, as though some sort of elastic connection stretched betwixt the two of them, trying to keep them together. She fancied it was the force of primal attraction.

Watching from his position at the bar, Toby winked at her. An electric wave washed over her, all the way down to the soles of her feet. No one ever winked at her, unless you counted the extremely old men she encountered at work.

Who the hell was this man? And why the fuck didn't she have a mobile?

Her friends were gathered together several yards away, and to her surprise, Lucius Malfoy had belatedly decided to join the group, citing a desire to show Draco how one treats ladies properly when they're out for a night on the town. He did so with panache and unaffected attention to all of them, not just Luna.

Hermione did agree to dance with Lucius Malfoy. Any wizard of that age had absolutely no right to look that good in white vinyl and to his credit, he, unlike Toby, was a perfect gentleman.

When she looked for him, Toby was nowhere to be found.

Toby stared at his glamoured self in the mirror back at the cottage, feeling heartily ashamed of himself. He'd thought to check on Granger, but had no particular designs on anything more ambitious than observation. How was it that she'd picked him out of a crowd of people? Was she drawn to tall, dark, and snarky?

Careless of who might hear, he groaned in frustration. "Bloody hell!"

He'd told himself that he was staying in character when she'd started to flirt with him. Toby, lad about town, would have no qualms flirting back. He'd have delighted in the forward way she danced with him. Toby even asked for her number .

Severus let himself hate Toby.

"Wanker!" With a careless swipe, he banished the glamour and the undeserving whelp was gone from his sight with a shimmer of violet light.

Feeling little better, he shucked out of the dragon-hide pants and cobalt blue silk shirt, leaving both on the floor in favor of lounge pants and a robe. As he left the bathroom, it occurred to him that Draco was the one who'd insisted on those specific purchases.

Had his Godson manipulated him so artfully? And if so, why?

Probably for his own amusement.

Sighing, Severus took up the real estate notices that were delivered to his room earlier that day. He really needed to get his own space. Before he was pushed so far that he helped Granger kill his Godson. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he allowed his thoughts to follow the more pleasant occupation of plotting revenge, "Just a mild curse? Seems fair."

Tomorrow he anticipated Lucius would still be taken up with the pursuit of happiness and Mrs Scamander, although not necessarily in that order. What else did Snape have to do besides find a place of his own, plan out his future, and plot revenge?

As if to remind him, a pair of lovely brown , intelligent eyes floated to the front of his mind's eye. Ah yes.

He needed to forget just how badly Toby wanted to do more than eyefuck Hermione Granger.

Forget the feel of her perfect arse bumping against him, the softness of her in his arms as they rocked to the music, and the teasing look she fixed him with as she shimmied her hips.

Forget the naked lust in Hermione's eyes as she asked him so prettily to dance.

"I'm so fucked."

Hermione woke the next morning (although it only barely qualified as morning) to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. A vial sat on her nightstand, each provided to them by Draco the previous night to take when they woke in the morning. It was Malfoy's Morning-After Medicinal. He called it "Mam" for short. Really, if he could get a patent, the stuff would sell well if people would just give it a try. Unfortunately, he'd have to think of another name.

Flicking the cork free, Hermione downed the Mam and reflected that it could do with some work on the flavour too. Something in the mint family. Anything would be better than the fishy taste it currently possessed. How the vile tasting brew cured nausea, she had absolutely no idea. Still, the relief that it brought was almost enough to make Hermione forgive Draco for being a prat.

Voices attracted her notice on the other side of the door, laughing together. Hermione's heart stopped as she realised just who was in the bathroom. Or more particularly, what they were doing without the common decency of utilizing a silencing charm. Or being drunk.

A pair of white vinyl trousers were folded over an armchair in the corner. Their presence eroded away any doubt.

Irritated, Hermione's mind made up a melody in time to the thumping that was growing increasingly impossible to ignore.

Luna and Lucius bonkin' in the loo. R-E-N-D-Z-E-VOUS.

Is there love? Hermione hadn't seen anything to suggest Mr Malfoy had anything more serious than a passing fancy for Luna. She started to feel her responsibility to her friend. She'd encountered the Malfoys because she wanted to help Hermione deal with the stress.

Will there be marriage? Would Lucius want to marry Luna? To support her? She'd heard rumours of how much Narcissa received as her part of the divorce, and it was an obscene sum. Luna had no interest in material wealth, valuing the wonders of the world and its creatures and peoples far more. Lucius didn't seem inclined to travel, and there was that gimpy hip of his, not to mention the spectre of his hateful crimes against the world. Luna was young and vibrant, not even in the prime of her life.

Why can't Luna crush on wizards who are safely average ?

Increasingly alarmed at the growing intensity of the pounding coming from the bathroom, Hermione hastily gathered her things. Clearly the hip couldn't be that bad.

She slipped into a long knit dress, wondering if Romana was awake. She needed to borrow her shower, and whatever was going on in her own bathroom demanded an emergency exit. Slipping out into the hall, she was appalled to find the international sign for 'Go away, we're shagging' on Romana's door. "He wasn't even wearing a tie!" Slytherin colours. Fucking fantastic.

Muttering darkly, Hermione stalked out of the hotel and made a beeline for the apparition point. How did she end up the fifth wheel - the fifth pent up frustrated wheel, mind you - at a girl's weekend meant to ease her frustration?

As soon as the thought popped into her mind, her anger began to fade as she felt the injustice of her rage with her girlfriends. Presumably, they were both pleasantly engaged in the very thing that they'd all looked for. A cuddle and a poke. Mind-blowing sex. She was a terrible friend for begrudging them the thing that she wanted too.

And yet, she was still cheesed off with Lucius. What did he think he was doing? He couldn't just do this to Luna, Hermione wouldn't stand for it. Something would definitely have to be done.

Were the mobile stores open on Saturdays? Maybe her Dad could go with her. There's an idea. She'd have to check in with her friend at the Ministry, but she knew for a fact that they'd made progress on increasing the reliability of such things around magic.

First, she needed a wash. Deflated and disappointed, she considered her options. She didn't want to go back to the Cottage. She'd no reason to when the bathroom in her London flat was waiting for her, blissfully devoid of any devil-Malfoy spawn. She could soak in the bath for as long as she wanted in the privacy she craved.

She might even have a nice wank, thanks to Toby.

Father and son sat together in the Hotel Lobby, waiting for the ladies to join them. There may have been some measure of mutual embarrassment, but neither wanted to disturb their languor by broaching the subject.

At last Romana and Luna stepped out of the elevator, arm in arm, smiles brightening their lovely faces. They'd dressed casually, planning on going out shopping before hitting up the spa.

It was Draco who noticed first. "I suppose Hermione's still getting ready? Or is she reading War and Peace?"

Lucius frowned. "I thought she was with you, son."

Draco had the grace to blush, "She said she'd rather stay with Luna."

Head tilted back, Luna was looking upwards, as though she might be able to see through the ceiling and find her friend in that manner. "No, she isn't there."

"Maybe she took another room?" Romana turned, "I shall go inquire."

Looking nervous, Draco stood up. "Maybe I should go check home."

"She isn't with Toby, if that's what you are wondering." Lucius' tone was flat.

Draco froze, "Well, I wouldn't think so." He continued with an uncertain laugh, "I mean, honestly. Those two? She'd never look at him that way. And he's never going to let go of Lily."

"Son, I sincerely hope that she never figures out what you did. I checked in with Severus late last night, and he didn't think it was funny in the least. You have made things needlessly complicated."

"I really don't see what the problem is here."

Luna finally spoke. "Hermione loves Professor Snape. She doesn't just want a shag. I thought it quite obvious, actually." You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that greeted this statement.

"Are you quite sure, Luna?" Romana had returned in time to hear the pronouncement.

A serene smile lit up the witch's face. "Oh yes. She doesn't know. Neither does he. It is beautiful to watch such a rare love grow."

"This isn't beautiful! It is a disaster! She is too damned honourable to act on her feelings." Draco was rubbing at his face in dismay. The scope of the mistakes he'd encouraged were starting to really dawn on him.

"Oh, but isn't that why you suggested she quit his case, Romana? I thought that was a good idea." Luna was untroubled as they talked about her friend's complicated love life. She could have easily been discussing another topic, one as safe as the weather.

"I was just trying to solve the problem with her Wrackspurts. Or Nargles. Or… both." Romana's earnest face looked about the little company. "I did suspect something." She shrugged, "What is there to do?"

Lucius looked thoughtful. "Before last night I would not have believed it, but I think it is possible that Severus might be developing a partiality of his own for Healer Granger. He was quite concerned about your lack of tact and proper comportment, son. If not for your crass behaviour in the front hall, I don't think he would have cooked up his little scheme to follow you as Toby."

Shamefaced, Draco shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?"

"It was a masterful display, Draco. It would be pointless to interfere any further. Magic is real, and so is their love. Let them discover it for themselves." Luna's serene countenance soothed her friend.

Hermione rushed in through the front door, her hair partially escaping the messy ponytail she'd attempted to use as confinement. "Sorry to make you wait!" She smiled cheerfully at the assemblage. "I just popped back home for a moment."

There was too much silence after the statement, and Hermione's face fell a fraction. "Is something wrong?" She looked sharply at Draco, "Have you heard anything from Professor Snape, or Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, Granger. Nothing's wrong there." Draco turned to his father.

Lucius spoke up obligingly, "I checked on Severus last night. He was fine. I think he was looking forward to the quiet night. Kicked me back out."

The tension in Hermione's face smoothed a fraction. "That sounds like him. Right, so. Shopping?" She looked at her watch. "We've that appointment at the spa in two hours. We should get going."

An expression of anxiety showed on Lucius' face. "Right. I'll catch you up in five minutes." He was the only one sitting. "Where are you starting?"

"Bold Street." That was Draco, he had the itinerary all plotted out.

Hermione held up an iPhone. It was shiny, new. "Have you a number?"

"Joining the modern world, Granger?"

"If you give out my number, I shall sign you up for so many porn sites that you won't be able to move without getting a new notification."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

Hermione planted her hands on her hips. "Are you honestly challenging me, buster?"

"Whoa, whoa. No way. Here, that's my number."

Hermione waved a hand to the rest. "Right, toddle off. I've something to settle here with the hotel. I'll be right along."

As the other three stepped out into the light of the afternoon, Hermione watched them go before turning a glare on Lucius. "So."

Lucius had not yet moved to get up. "Yes, Healer Granger?"

"How bad is it?"

Eyebrows raising in surmise, Lucius grimaced. "Ah. So you..."

Not having any sort of patience, she cut him off. There was no point in pretending she wasn't pissed off with him. "I have ears that work as well as anyone else's. That includes when her roommates forget to use a damned silencing charm. You really are something else. Can you even stand?" She used the same tone that she used once on an 11 year old Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley when she chided them for not being wider read. In short, her voice was grating.

Wincing, Lucius shifted forwards. "It wasn't this bad earlier."

"Of course not. It will only get worse as the day goes on. Here, take two of these, and this ampule." She stood there, watching Lucius take the medications. "I'll go and find us a brew. By the time we're done sipping, you should be at least able to walk again. Honestly, it is a good thing your son stays in the potions lab. He's so self-centred he almost needs a seeing-eye dog."

Lucius held up the vial in a salute to Hermione. "To your health and happiness, Miss Granger."

Waving away the courteous gesture, Hermione spun on her heel to go search out two cups of tea.

Severus had a vision. Potions were his life's passion, and now he had free rein to pursue his work. McGonagall had offered him a position on staff, begged him to come back as a teacher at the school whenever he liked. It meant a great deal to be asked, but Severus wasn't certain that was what he wanted any longer. He had other ideas. New ideas that stretched well beyond surviving one more sunrise.

He wanted a home in a quiet place in the country, one where he could have a greenhouse, and gardens in the warmer months. A place with a basement suitable for storing his ingredients, and enough space for his vision of a potions lab. A quantity of bookshelves, or sufficient wall space for them, was also a must. He'd found that he had access to plenty of funds, and had an eye towards purchasing something that could support itself in the longer run. He craved peace.

The catalogue contained several properties that seemed likely, but he had a particular preference for ones in the south-east for their soil and growing seasons were most favourable. Tagging a few pages, he put out a request for an agent, and then made an appointment to visit Gringotts early in the coming week. His neck was doing well, although his voice tired and would become softer as the day wore on.

He'd discovered that many of the catalogue companies prefer to use internet catalogues and ordering now. That meant he was going to have to buy a computer and obtain a mobile.

It had nothing to do with Toby having a number. Or so he told himself.

The next day Severus made his first trek to Hogwarts. It was a Sunday, and the students were quite taken up with their studies. He went up after breakfast with the intention of saving Madam Pomfrey the trip. He'd been obliged to meet with the Headmistress who handled herself well although he'd not been prepared to deal with Dumbledore.

When word spread of his visit Dumbledore found Severus in the halls, and walked about through the paintings so there was no escaping the old Wizard. They'd already had it out before, there wasn't much left to be said beyond, "Good on you. We did it."

He also had the misfortune of meeting the Potions teacher. She was everything Lucius and Draco had implied and worse: she was a dangerous combination of arrogance and incompetence that lent itself to propagating misinformation. Not only that, she valued her position well enough that she felt threatened by his presence in the school. Dreadful, almost Troll.

Depressed by what he saw, Severus returned to the Cottage to find it populated with people once more. A farewell dinner was planned for Dr Lundar. It was a pity to see her go. Draco did seem partial to her.

When Granger came to see him that evening she was back in the trusses of a Healer's formal robes. She did look good in them, but he found himself missing the short dress that he'd last seen her in. Without a bandage change, the visit was short, limited to a visual inspection and wand diagnostics. She discussed his ongoing vocal exercise plan and expectations for a return to a normal voice.

Having done that, she took out a box that was stacked with vials. "Here are your doses of the fortifying potion that Draco developed for you. Take one a day until they are all finished." She placed it in his hands and he thought she looked a trifle nervous.

"You have come a long way, sir, and I've been very pleased to witness your return to health."

Severus detected the trappings of a well-rehearsed speech. "I am in your debt, Healer Granger."

"Nonsense, sir. You stuck out your neck so that the war could be won, and in so doing you saved the lives of all of the muggleborn witches and wizards in the UK. Truly. I should be thanking you a thousand times over." Her eyes were bright with emotion, and he thought there was a faint quiver in her lower lip.

Not really knowing what to say, he nodded once and left it at that. It was an odd turn of phrase - she had a dry sense of humour.

"I will be leaving tomorrow as well. You have progressed to the point where your needs will be admirably provided for by a mediwitch or general Healer, thankfully. I consider your case now closed. I can cover for urgent matters for the next week, but after that, you will need to engage another Healer's services."

Severus drummed his fingers on the table, wondering if her records on him now were best numbered in inches or pounds of parchment. "And my records?"

"Will be transferred when you identify your new Healer, sir. I have written down a list of recommendations to ease your transition."

She pulled a slip of folded paper out of her breast pocket and passed it over to him. "I've also included my contact information, should any questions arise. My door is always open to you, sir."

He squinted at the tiny, neat print. Weren't Healers supposed to have terrible handwriting? "You've a mobile? I thought you wouldn't want to be called at all hours."

Granger was genuinely confused, but answered, "I finally joined the modern world yesterday. My Dad took me out to purchase one while the others slept in. It was useful as a tool to stay in touch with the rest of our Liverpool party."

Enlightened, Severus felt a strange lurching in his stomach. From the outside, it was probably also a compliment to Toby. Who was not real.

Hermione sat for a moment longer, and the air in the room seemed to thicken with the tension between them, one that Severus did not begin to understand. "Well, that's it, I suppose. Tra fra bit."

"Of course." Severus stood to shake hands with her and then walked her to the door with the usual wishes exchanged for a good evening.

At last, It connected that she'd used that particular turn of phrase when she looked back over her shoulder at him with a small smile. She suspected. Did she know who Toby really was? And if she did… what did that smile mean? No, she'd never look at him that way.

He closed the door, leaning his back against it. Intellectually, he knew he was well enough to do without her for stretches of time, but he didn't like this leave-taking. He wasn't expecting it, he was caught unprepared.

It should be a happy moment for he didn't need to be poked and prodded twice a day any longer. No more clucking or scolding, all because he was well. And yet, he felt like he had been let down. She'd tried to do it with courtesy. Alas, her kindness made the leavetaking sting all the worse.

Severus returned to the House on Monday to find a very melancholy scene. Lucius had spent the day by the fire in the parlour, smoking cigars. Draco was three sheets to the wind and far more articulate than his father. Add Draco's selection of songs for the day and it made a disturbing scene.

"W're sad, Profisser." Draco held up a glass to Severus, whether as an invitation or salute, Severus could not be certain. "Granger's the worst. S'all her fault. Right, Toby?"

It was difficult to get any sense out of his godson. The boy spewed a series of seemingly unconnected accusations of heartlessness interspersed with highly inappropriate abuse aimed at the Healer. Some things would never change. He worried that Draco was not going to make it in to work tomorrow.

The way Lucius twitched anytime a log cracked in the fire was telling. He was waiting by the fire for her to call.

When Severus suggested intelligent plans for reaching out via magically assisted communication, it transpired that Lucius had already attempted everything within his power. Everything legal, that is. Luna had gone off without a word.

What was worse, the man was stoically suppressing his distress and he'd not entertain the merest suggestion that she'd done him any wrong. "We had no understanding, Severus. I have nothing to reproach her with."

Neither wizard was any sort of company, and after an hour of attempting to cajole both of them into speech with him, he couldn't stand it any longer and he took himself off to bed.

That night Severus dreamed of Lily, but it wasn't a lucid vision. He chased her through the rooms of his nightmares. School hallways painted with the blood of innocents, students torturing one another. Next she led him up to the Astronomy tower, and he flew after her when she gracefully fell over the edge. She was always just out of reach. Then he caught glimpses of her at the revel Voldemort held in Severus' honour after he'd taken the dark mark. The detail with which he remembered every atrocity dressed up as delight twisted the knives of guilt into his soul a bit farther.

The last place he found her was on the floor of the house in Godric's Hollow. He'd watched helplessly as she fell to the floor, the light leaving her eyes. There wasn't a crying baby. There was no Voldemort. Just Lily crumpled to the floor. Severus mourned her all over again, clinging to her cooling corpse in his arms.

He woke alone, sober, and weeping in the early hours of the morning.

Lucius hadn't slept well. A pulled muscle in his groin from the past weekend wasn't the only thing that pained him. Anguish caused by his separation from Luna was gnawing at the edges of his mind.

He'd finally heard from Ginny Potter, who'd invited Luna to stay with her and Harry in London for the foreseeable future. She'd written that they were both very much taken up with raising money for and planning the events that were to lead up to the 15-year Anniversary War Memorial Ceremony to be held at Hogwarts, and that she doubted that Luna could be spared.

As he stared in the mirror, hair wet from the shower, he studied the lines of his face. Luna had said he was the sort of wizard who aged like a fine wine, that he was gaining more character and depth. It may have been true, but without her, he felt like he was withering. Luna believed in him, or so he'd thought.

There was no preordained plan for this week. He'd extended the invitation for her to stay as long as she liked, but she had to decline, as she was expected elsewhere. They'd not exchanged words. Neither had any claim on the other. There was nothing to resent. He had to find a way to go on, to try to be the wizard she'd admired. Perhaps in so doing, he might become worthy.

Framing his plan in a positive light helped to dispel the paralyzation of bereavement that threatened to undo him. He got dressed and resolved to turn his thoughts back to helping Severus get back onto his feet.

When Lucius came down to the dining room for breakfast, he found an overturned chair and a smoking pile of ash in the place where Severus usually sat. Light enough to fly up on the thermals created by the immolation, a scrap floated back down to the table nearby. There wasn't much on it, enough to identify it as the typeset used by The Daily Prophet.

"Sampson!"

The butler appeared in the doorway and paled. "Sir! Are you injured?" He hurried over, setting the chair back on its feet.

Lucius vanished the mess before he answered. "No. I require another copy of The Daily Prophet."

"Immediately, sir." He was already retreating to act on Lucius' request.

There were advantages to human servants. They didn't cost a fortune in medical bills, for example. "Oh, and Sampson?"

"Yes sir?"

"Do you know where Mr Snape might be?"

"He… ahem, left minutes ago." He would have to work on his delivery, Sampson was entirely too easy to read.

"And did he mention where he was going?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Thank you, Sampson. That will be all." Lucius sighed and sat down, helping himself to the food laid out on the table. There was no point in running after Severus, especially in this condition. His limp was worse than ever and he had no Healer in residence any longer.

The butler returned ten minutes later with a new copy of The Prophet.

Lucius' frown deepened as he read the front page feature article. "Well. That's unfortunate."

The Daily Prophet, Feature Article.

[picture of Lily Potter from her Wedding]

30 January 2013.

Lily Potter: Celebrated Martyr, Paragon of Motherhood, Sorely Missed.

It is impossible to talk about the Wizarding Wars without thinking of the brave woman who sacrificed everything to save her baby boy from Lord Voldemort's killing curse. The magic invoked by her pure mother-love's sacrifice stopped the most powerful, evil wizard in history long enough to allow her son to grow up and go on to claim his victory.

Who was this amazing witch? Born Lily Evans to a muggle family in Cokeworth, she was remembered as a kind, considerate sort of person by her former Potions Professor, Horace Slughorn who kindly made himself available for interview at St Oswald's Home for Aging Witches and Wizards. "Lily was very popular, always an excellent student, and she was particularly fond of me. She was very gifted in potions, always made top marks. She gifted me my Francis, a fish that she'd transfigured from the petal of a lily."

Alas, her only living relations are Harry Potter himself, and the muggle family she left behind who were not available for comment. Auror Potter does not remember his mother, sadly, and finds it difficult to talk about.

Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's brilliant muggleborn best friend, did take out some of her valuable time to talk with one of our writers and she paints a more detailed picture of a dedicated witch who was far from candidacy for Sainthood.

"The memories left to Harry by Professor Snape proved that his mother (Lily Potter) was an ideal Gryffindor. I admire how passionate Lily was in the defence of her beliefs and those she loved. She also had a temper. Once lost, her good opinion almost never could be regained. It really is tragic, what happened between her and Professor Snape. One thoughtless word and she threw away what ultimately proved the most important friendship of both of their lives." - Healer Hermione Granger, London.

A private vigil is being held at an undisclosed location tonight in deference to Mrs Potter's Birthday. We wish to extend our most heartfelt sympathies to Auror Potter and his family on this special day.

Mrs Potter would have been 53.

~Justin Merridan, Guest Reporter, The Daily Prophet

AN: Big Thanks to Havelocked and ScarletDewDrops for beta-ing and mad love to Coromandel and SnapeLove for being wonderful alphas. This was written for Geminisister as pary of sshg_giftfest 2018. An extra thanks to readers like you! Reviews are like scooby snacks! Always welcome, no matter how delightful or dire the occasion. Rut-roh!