"You!" a hoarse voice startled them both. "Having fun, are you? You have some nerve, showing up here!"

Snape's smile turned into a grimace as his hand quickly reached for his wand. Hermione turned around, scared, to find Aberforth's tall figure menacingly moving towards them with long strides.

"Wait! Sir!" she got up quickly, raising her palms in a calming gesture. "I'm Hermione Granger, do you remember me?"

"Of course I remember you, girl." Aberforth shook his head, annoyed, his eyes moving alternately from her face to Snape's.

"How are you doing, Sir?" she asked, taking a step towards him with a conciliatory smile.

"I'd be better if you explained what is he doing here." the old man pointed out with a grunt.

Snape was holding his gaze stoically, though his jaws were clenched with tension.

"We were hoping you could help us with something." Hermione confessed, throwing Snape a quick side glance.

"Don't fool yourself, girl. I did my share of helping at the battle, and it was already more than I had intended." Aberforth crossed his arms in a settling-the-matter gesture.

"I know, but… we just wanted to ask you a few questions, Sir. Please! It'll only be five minutes of your time." Hermione insisted with a hopeful look.

Aberforth noticed the other clients were staring at them with curiosity, exchanging murmurs. He let out a sigh of frustration. "Five minutes, and then you're out of here." he warned, and Hermione nodded vehemently, with a grateful smile.

The tall, big man sat on the chair across for them, as far away from Snape as the table allowed, still staring at him with a disgusted look.

"What is it." he asked, harshly.

Hermione looked at Snape for confirmation, not sure how to pose the question. He just gave her a subtle nod of reassurance.

"We were wondering… We've recently heard about something that happened here at Hogsmeade. We don't know when, but we were hoping maybe you've heard about it?" she began, trying to sound calm as Snape had instructed her to.

Aberforth raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue.

"Apparently, some time ago a man drowned at the Black Lake, Sir. But when his body was taken to the shore by the mer people, his patronus showed up and revived him."

The old man was the first person to hear her affirmation without the slightest reaction of surprise or incredulity. Not in vain had he owned the melting pot of the weirdest magical beings, and listened to their conversations, for over 60 years now.

"I never heard of it." he said simply, ready to get up from the chair.

"He's lying." Snape intervened all of a sudden, with a low but firm voice.

Aberforth's eyes glared with fury. "You are accusing me of lying?" he hissed, leaning menacingly with his fists on the table.

"Please!" Hermione begged the both of them, throwing them a pleading look. "Let's have a civil conversation!" she said, and then she turned towards Snape. "Why would you say that?"

"You should ask him." Snape replied, pointing his head towards the man. Despite his flaring nostrils and his furious stare, there was another emotion in Aberforth's face… and Hermione realized it was embarrassment of being caught.

"You do know something, don't you?" Hermione asked softly.

"I don't know anything about a patronus or resurrections." Aberforth replied defiant, but then he yielded. "But Etta's father fell to the lake when she was a child, and he claimed to have been rescued by mermaids." he revealed, pointing his head towards the old hag behind the bar counter.

Hermione gasped, excited. "Do you think we can talk to her?"

"I don't think so. She doesn't like talking about it. She doesn't like talking in general. My brother also seemed to be very interested in her father's story, Merlin knows why, and I think it's the only time I've heard her mention it."

"I remember that." Snape said suddenly, throwing Hermione a surprised look. "He mentioned that he was researching some strange story he'd heard at his brother's… Here."

"Oh, did he?" Aberforth inquired, gritting his teeth. "Was this before or after he asked you to murder him in cold blood?"

Hermione looked at him horrified. On one hand, she understood that Aberforth would be reluctant to accept the version of the story that the Daily Prophet had unveiled, specially because it hadn't provided enough details to truly grasp the motives behind their actions, just clarifying that Dumbledore's death had been previously staged by himself, therefore exculpating Severus Snape of the murder charges he was facing. On the other hand, her heart ached for the Potions master, having to endure such cruel comments when he was probably already feeling bad enough about the whole ordeal himself.

But if Snape felt bad, he did an extremely good job at hiding it behind his usual cold, emotionless mask. Only witnessing it now, did Hermione realized how far they had come in their interactions, for it looked strange and unfamiliar on him after he had been letting down his guard so much around her lately.

"Sir..." she said, turning towards Aberforth again. "Could you please ask Etta if she'd be willing to talk to us for a moment?" she begged, with a pleading smile.

The old man looked at her with disbelief at her audacity, but the innocent look on her eyes did the trick. He let out an irritated grunt, but got up from his chair and walked over to the old hag. He murmured something to her ear, and both Snape and Hermione held their breaths as the witch looked in their direction with a frown. After what felt like an eternity, she dropped the cloth she was using to clean the counter, and slowly limped towards their table.

Aberforth followed her, unwilling to leave them unsupervised on his pub.

Hermione offered her a seat, but the woman shook her head, keeping her distance. "Are you from the Ministry again?" she asked with suspicion.

"The Ministry?" Hermione repeated, baffled.

"After Albus was poking around, two men from the Ministry showed up here one day." Aberforth explained, visibly annoyed. "They said they wanted to interrogate Etta. They were from the Department of Mysteries. My brother never knew how to keep his discretion well, did he?" he shook his head with disapproval.

"We're not from the Ministry, madam. We come from Hogwarts." Hermione quickly reassured her.

"Is Albus sending you?" the woman asked, intrigued.

"Albus is dead, Etta, remember?" Aberforth reminded her, not before throwing Snape a dark, resentful glance.

"Oh… right, of course." The old hag nodded, though she didn't look convinced. "What do you want to know?"

"We were hoping you'd tell us what happened to your father at the lake." Hermione said with an inviting smile.

"Oh… it happened a long time ago. I was six… or seven years old." the woman narrowed her eyes, struggling to remember. "We had gone for a boat ride on the lake… My father was convinced that there was a sunken treasure at the bottom, guarded by mermaids… He was telling me about it and I couldn't believe it, so he said he'd prove it to me… bring me a princess crown." she recalled, finally accepting the chair she had been offered, and sitting down with a sigh of relief. "So he jumped into the lake. We had been swimming other times, but it was getting dark, and when he didn't come to the surface, I began fearing he had drowned."

Hermione nodded sympathetically, encouraging her to continue.

"He had taken his wand, so I didn't know what to do or how to let anyone know I was there alone. I just thought that I wanted to get back home to my mother, and then the boat moved on its own all the way to the shore."

"That's incredible!" Hermione stated, with enthusiasm.

"It's just the way magic works in children." Snape remarked, with an unimpressed look. "It often obeys their wishes even if they're not aware of how."

Hermione turned towards him with a scolding glance and her lips formed the word "buzzkill." Then, she turned to the old hag again.

"What happened next?"

"A few hours later my father showed up on our doorstep, completely soaked. We couldn't believe it. We asked him how he had managed to survive and he said the mermaids brought him to the shore."

"Did he say something else?" Hermione inquired eagerly. "Something about a patronus, maybe?"

"Your brother asked me the same question." Etta said to Aberforth, puzzled. "I'll tell you the same thing I told him. We didn't see any patronus. And his patronus was a big dog, I couldn't have missed it."

Snape threw Hermione an "I-told-you-so", arrogant glance. See? The mermaid story was nonsense, he had known from the beginning. However, Hermione seemed excited, and willing to keep asking questions. He was about to grab her arm and get them both out of there, when the old hag interrupted him.

"I did feel something weird, though… There was this moment, when I was alone at the boat, and pretty scared… I feared that he was dead and I would never see him again… and then I felt a wave of calm and warmth surrounding me, as if he was there telling me everything would be okay. It was just a moment but somehow it managed to calm me down enough for my magic to work, I guess" Etta revealed, with her blurry gaze lost in her recollections.

"Thank you so much for telling us." Hermione covered her own heart in a gratitude gesture.

The woman nodded, still absently. Aberforth put his hands on her shoulders, and throwing them a warning look he stated: "That's enough. You got what you wanted. Now be on your way."

"Of course, Sir." Hermione nodded, quickly getting up. "Again, thank you so much."

Snape imitated her, leaving a handful of galleons on the table, clearly more than the two simple glasses of wine were worth. Aberforth threw him an indecipherable glance and walked away with Etta towards the counter.

"Well, that was useless." Snape muttered, irritated, once they were back outside, where the sun had already set and the first stars were appearing in the indigo sky.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, puzzled. "That was better than we had hoped for! What were the chances that the bartender was the little girl of the story?" she said, amazed.

Snape was walking aimlessly towards the main street, only hoping to get away from that place as soon as possible. She followed him, trying to keep up with his angry pace.

"That wasn't the same story. You heard her, there was no patronus." Snape pointed out with a tired expression.

"She didn't say that! She just said she hadn't seen one! What are the chances that there were two little girls alone in a boat with a drowning father rescued by the mermaids?" Hermione protested.

"You're grasping at straws." Snape replied, slowing down to throw her a patronizing glance. "She said the patronus was a big dog and that she couldn't have missed it if it had been there."

"Exactly!" Hermione celebrated. "The patronus I saw on the paintings was a big, white dog! How could the mermaids have known that if they hadn't seen it?"

"A great percentage of patronus are cats and dogs, as I'm sure you're well aware of. It was probably just a symbol or a guess." Snape pointed out with a discarding hand gesture.

"Now who's grasping at straws?" Hermione rolled her eyes, irritated.

"You saw it yourself." Snape said with scorn. "The woman was deranged. She thought Dumbledore was still alive."

"I knew you'd hold on to that." Hermione complained. "Alright, maybe she was a little confused, but she looked a hundred years old, that's just natural! Doesn't mean she doesn't know what she's saying! And what about her feeling? How do you explain that?" she insisted, arching her eyebrows.

"A defense mechanism." Snape said boringly. "She was terrified, longing for her father, so she unconsciously summoned those reassuring feelings to be able to get to safety."

"No, it wasn't self-suggestion." Hermione denied, more firmly that she had intended to, her tone giving away her sudden defensive state.

"What makes you so sure?" Snape inquired upon noticing it, completely arresting his steps and turning towards her, who almost crashed into him at his sudden stop.

His black eyes pierced hers and she lowered them to the ground, unable to hold his gaze. "There's something else… Something you're not telling me." Snape guessed, his voice becoming a seductive whisper intended to lure her into revealing her secrets.

Hermione racked her brain trying to find a valid answer that wouldn't be a lie but also didn't exposed how her heart and soul had felt that day at the Shrieking Shack. By the corner of her eye, she saw Snape getting closer, and his hand raising to lift her chin and force her to look at him again. Oh, damn it… she was going to have to tel…

"Hermione?" a perplexed voice called from the distance.

Snape's hand lowered immediately and he took a step back, as she raised her gaze from the ground unable to believe her ears.

"Ron? Harry? What are you doing here?" she asked, so confused that she momentarily forgot that she was really mad at her friend.

Both of them got closer, each of their faces painted with a comical look of bewilderment. Only then was she aware that she was standing at Hogsmeade main street, wearing a fancy dress and make up, alone with - and at a ridiculous distance of - Professor Snape.

"Goodnight, Sir." Harry greeted him politely, and the sight was so strange that Hermione couldn't even react.

"Mr Potter. Mr Weasley." Snape muttered, his face turning to his stone cold usual mask again. "My condolences." he said to the latter.

Ron was equally dumbfounded, so Harry stepped in to answer for him. "Thank you, Sir. How… how are you doing?" he asked then, as if the words were refusing to leave his mouth.

Snape gritted his teeth and closed his eyes briefly, taking a slow, deep inhalation to calm himself. Feeling such amount of revulsion at the sight of the Chosen boy wasn't anything new. However, it stunned him that the image that had crossed his mind upon seeing him hadn't been James's face, or even Harry's own face in one of the multiple oh so delightful recollections he had of the boy… But Hermione's. More specifically, her crying face when she had returned from the Burrow two nights ago, her heart broken by the two dunderheads standing right before him. Severus opened his eyes. "As well as could be expected." he said simply.

Harry nodded, not knowing what else to add, though he felt the obligation to acknowledge his recent discovery. Hermione knew Snape well enough at this point to know that this could only make matters worse and bring more tension, so she decided to intervene before it could happen. "What are you two doing here?" she asked again, a little defensive now that the initial shock was wearing off.

"We were actually looking for you." Ron explained with a hand gesture.

"Why were you looking for us?" Hermione inquired, confused. Ron's face turned red as his hair, and he opened his mouth to answer, though no words came out. She immediately understood. "Oh, you mean… Right."

"That's my cue to leave, I believe." Snape said, eager to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. "Enjoy the rest of your night." he added to no one in particular, and he turned around, his black cloak billowing as he walked away.

Hermione looked at her friends and at his departing dark figure, and after a moment of hesitation, she ran to reach him.

"Wait!" she said, grabbing his arm to stop him.

She knew it was stupid but it somehow felt wrong to end their evening so abruptly, and letting him go alone.

"What's the matter?" Snape asked coldly. He was visibly tense and uncomfortable.

"I… are you well enough to go on your own?" she asked the first excuse that came to mind.

"I don't remember appointing you as my doctor, Miss Granger." he replied harshly, but then he immediately regretted it and softened his tone. "Point being...thank you for your concern, but I'll be fine. I'm not sure the same can be said about yourself, though. Shall I remind you what happened the last time you decided to spend your time in their company?" he raised an eyebrow with a meaningful look.

"I too appreciate your concern, Sir." Hermione replied with a crooked smile. "But I think I can manage. Just…" she lowered her tone, though the two boys were far enough to be unable to hear them anyway. "Our conversation isn't over. I think today was a major breakthrough."

"If you say so" Snape rolled his eyes, though secretly glad that she was already planning on resuming their interaction soon. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, Sir." she said, finally letting go of his arm and watching him disappear into a side alley.

"What was that about?" Ron inquired behind her back, as both of them got closer to their friend.

Hermione turned around with a cold expression. "Really, Ronald? That's your priority right now?" she said, offended, though also trying to divert their attention from her private encounter with Snape.

"No, of course not, I was just… But no, you're right. That's not why we came here."

"How did you know where to find me, anyway?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"McGonagall told us. We went to the castle first, of course… Ron even entered with me to look for you." Harry revealed, trying to earn his friend some extra points, but Hermione was still too mad to be softened by that. "She said she had run into you earlier… and that you were headed for Hogsmeade."

Good, so at least McGonagall didn't know that she was there with Professor Snape. When they had met at the Great Hall entrance, McGonagall had taken a look at her dress and asked her if she was meeting someone in particular. Hermione had denied it, just vaguely mentioned that she was hoping to celebrate her N.E.W.T results at Hogsmeade, but by the look on the witch's face, she had feared Minerva was suspecting something.

"Well, here I am. What did you want?" she said, opening her arms in an impatient gesture.

"I told Ron about our conversation yesterday." Harry explained, and it took Hermione a second to realize that they had indeed met just the day before. With everything going on, it felt like ages ago. "And he's also very sorry about making you feel left behind… Right Ron?" Harry sunk his elbow into his friend's ribs.

Ron reacted with a flinch, startled. He was clearly still pondering what could possibly be the reason behind Hermione hanging out with Snape. "Er… Right, yes, of course."

Hermione frowned at them with skepticism. That was the worst version of an apology she'd ever heard. Ron noticed her incredulity and took a step forward.

"Really, 'Mione, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were feeling like that. You could have told us..." he noticed the instant furious glare in her eyes and he shook his head. "But of course, we should have known too. I'm so sorry."

She stood there, crossing her arms again and lowering her gaze. That was a little bit better, though still didn't make her feel fully alright. But she realized if she wanted to make amends with them, she also had to yield a little. "I'm sorry too Ron. For the things I said at Harry's birthday. I shouldn't have said that." she murmured, ashamed.

"I was asking for it. I was being a child." Ron shook his head with a weak smile.

"Maybe a little." Hermione agreed, smiling back.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, finally seeing his two best friends letting down their weapons. "That is much better. Now, who wants a butterbeer?" he suggested, happily.

"Sounds brilliant." Ron agreed.

"You go. I'm actually pretty tired." Hermione said, and it was true. Though she had slept another couple hours after lunch, her body was still drained from the nearly drowning experience the day before.

"You sure?" Harry asked, hesitant.

"Why don't we better come back other day?" Ron suggested instead. "You can let us know when it's a good time for you, so we can all be together."

Hermione looked at him pleasantly surprised. It was very unlike him to give up the opportunity of visiting the Three Broomsticks, specially since Madame Rosmerta had extended an invitation for life to the three of them.

"That would be lovely, Ron, thank you." she said, this time with a genuine smile.

So the three of them walked back towards the Apparition point, and once they got there, Ron asked Harry if he could give them a moment, so the latter hugged Hermione goodbye and vanished into the night.

Hermione's heart began to race again. Maybe their fight had given Ron an opportunity to reflect on their relationship. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"So… Mum has finally come into her senses. I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year. I'm going to London, to Diagon Alley, with George… He's planning on re-opening the shop and I'm going to help him." Ron said, with his hands on his pockets, nervously kicking a stone around.

"That's… what you wanted, right?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Well, yes. I just thought… I should tell you... you know? So we could… talk." Ron was struggling to make sense.

"What exactly do you want to talk about?" Hermione said, also nervous. "I thought you said you wanted to "put things aside" for now."

"Well, yes… That's what I said. But now that I'm leaving, I thought that it would be the right thing to do, to settle the matter."

"You mean be truly done with me." Hermione replied, more harshly than she intended to. Though she had seen it coming, she couldn't help to feel rejected and hurt all the same.

"I didn't mean that. It's just… maybe..." he failed to find the proper words.

"Maybe we're better as friends?" she finished his sentence. The look on Ron's face confirmed that that was what he was trying to suggest. Hermione took a deep breath, contemplating her own feelings about it. "I think so, Ron. We're too different. And I love you, so much. I'll always will. That's precisely why I don't want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

"Exactly." he nodded, relieved. "I love you too, 'Mione." he said with a smile, and he hugged her tightly.

Hermione slowly exhaled all the air in her lungs. Okay. So that was it. She realized a huge weight had been lifted from her stomach, and that this was what she truly wanted. She did love Ron, and that moment of incredible kindness and thoughtfulness towards Hogwarts House elves during the battle had completely blown her mind… but she had got carried away in the momentum of what seemed to be the last hours of their lives. Now, with a different, calmer perspective, she realized that she never truly envisioned herself with him. Her love for him would always be more like that of a sister. Unconditional, deep… but not romantic.

"Do you want me to escort you back to the castle?" Ron offered, taking a look at the dark grounds. Unlike the night before, the sky was very cloudy and there was no trace of the moon.

"That's okay." she shook her head with a smile. Even if she was happy about their decision, she still needed a moment alone to process it… Though her heart seemed to be eager to leave it behind and focus on its true interest… Then, she had an idea. "Actually, I think I will be apparating too."

"You're coming with us?" Ron said, hopeful.

"No. I have other place I want to go." Hermione explained.

"Oh… okay. Well… ladies first." Ron took a step back, eloquently gesturing towards the Apparition point.

"Thank you Ron. I'll see you soon." she said, giving him a swift peck on the cheek before she also vanished into the darkness.