I'm not quite sure that anyone is going to read this, and I wouldn't blame you. After all, I haven't updated in oh…a year? But due to the fact that the final Harry Potter book is coming out and this may be my last chance to write this story because it becomes wholly and completely implausible, (or at least more implausible than it already is,) my writer's block has miraculously ended. I just sat down and was able to write more. And I actually have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to have happen. So while it is doubtful this will all be out by July 21st, especially since my computer with internet has completely up and died and my other one doesn't have a floppy drive, I figured I would at least try. So here is the 21st chapter. Hope somebody enjoys.

Chapter 21: Some People Can't Tell When it Hits 'Em

To be in a restaurant was…

Indescribable.

Incredible.

There were other 'in' adjectives that Hermione would've liked to use if she hadn't been so utterly awed.

"Wow Doc, you sure do know how to treat a couple of broods real nice," Sunny breathed underneath her breath.

"Well after the hospital cafeteria, I think a fish and chips shop would look like a palace," he said with the smallest of grins. "But all the same, it is adequate."

Adequate was an understatement Hermione was just barely able to let slip past. However she was still speechless as a waiter took her coat and handed her a menu in a smooth move.

This was the kind of place she had always dreamt about, with more than one type of fork and more glasses than an average person would need in a week. It faintly reminded her of the banquets she had attended before.

They all took their seats at the round table and Sunny quickly swept the cloth napkin into her lap with a little sniff of her aristocratic nose.

For a moment Hermione was once again felt that pang of familiarity that accompanied any particularly sophisticated move of Sunny's, but she brushed it away with the shake of her head.

"What's up Mione, you haven't said a word since we've been here," Sunny asked, breaking through her reverie.

"I'm fine, I'm just… little overwhelmed I guess." Hermione noticed the slightest twinge of concern in Snape's eyes. Feeling guilty, she continued, "I'm fine, really." She opened her menu and looked through it, nearly gagging when she saw some of the prices.

"Ms. Granger, before you say a word, let me assure that I would not have brought you to this place if I did not have the means to provide you with a decent meal. Think hard before insulting me by not ordering what you wish," Snape intoned all while his eyes were trained upon his own menu.

It seemed Sunny needed no such warning, for when the waiter returned she promptly ordered, if not the most expensive item, then one of them. Hermione had to admit though, while whatever she had ordered was in some foreign language, it did sound delicious.

"I'll have the same." It certainly saved her the trouble of having to decide something for herself.

Snape quickly and sharply ordered his meal and the finest wine on the menu before tossing the laminated paper to the poor waiter who had been thoroughly frightened by Snape's sharp tongue and menacing eyes.

"Let's see if the poor wanker can get that right," he muttered underneath his breath as he took a drink from his wine glass. "Serviceable food, lackluster service, isn't that the problem with the world in general…"

Sunny tried to keep from laughing. "Why do you do that Sev?"

"Do what?" he asked serenely, not even bristling over the shortening of his given name.

"Scare people half out of their wits. You do it quite often, at the hospital, from what I've heard, at Hogwarts…"

"From what you've heard?" Snape asked with an eyebrow raised. "May I ask from whom you've heard? Or would that just be wasting my time?" His eyes found Hermione's and pinned them.

"It's no secret you were a nasty piece of work back at Hogwarts," Hermione said carefully. "You've made no denials of it and neither have I."

"And what about you Ms. Granger?" He was now peering at her over the top of his wine glass but his eyes never left hers. "Did I scare you half out of your wits?"

"I was a child, you were a man in authority. When you were harsh, I felt rejected, when you were secretive I felt anxious and because you were older, powerful, smart, and I suspected, evil, you scared me. Is that not understandable?"

He leaned his glass on the edge of his lip, rocking it slowly with his fingers. "Yes," he answered at last. "I suppose it is."

Fortunately, their food arrived, diffusing the awkward tension that had pervaded the table.

The rest of the evening was pleasant, without the mention of school years or personality traits, but there was something that stuck in Snape's mind.

She had felt rejected?

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

"Care to deny the sexual tension now?" Sunny asked, crashing on Hermione's bed after they arrived back at the manor.

A beat passed and Hermione said nothing.

"I knew it, I knew it!" Sunny cried. "I felt as if you guys were going to start snogging right on the table in front of me!"

"Sunny, that's overreacting a little bit! And quiet down, he's just across the hall!"

"Hermione, you're in love with the man, call him by his given name."

"Sunny, I am not in love with Snape."

"She's not at all in love, not at all in love, oh no!" Sunny began to sing in her soprano voice. "Must be the summer heat that gives her that glow…" she continued, skipping a few lines.

"You're the only witch I've ever known to break out in show tunes at the drop of a hat," Hermione grumbled.

"You must admit, it's rather fitting," she laughed in return. "But if you don't want to face the facts, that's your issue. I, on the other hand, have a hot date with a pair of pajamas and a couple of paintbrushes. See you in the morning." And she sauntered out of the room, the last notes of 'I'm not at all in Love' hanging in a curtain behind her.