The months following the Battle are so intense Hermione wishes she still had the Time-Turner. She assists with the renovations at Hogwarts, prepares the defence for Professor Snape in absentia after he left Hogwarts without leaving a note, tries to research reversal of Memory Charms and attempts to plan for her future. In addition to that, there are funerals to attend, dinners at the Burrow, and friends she end up mostly neglecting. It's too much. She barely has time to eat, let alone reflect on what has happened.
Kingsley manages to bypass a trial for Professor Snape and holds a hearing at Hogwarts with a few select people including Harry, Hermione and Neville, plus some of the staff. He also tries to talk about ceremonies and medals but Professor McGonagall throws him out on his ears before he can utter half a sentence. Hermione feels a bit conflicted, she's always liked Kingsley but he's already turning into a proper politician.
Her thoughts keep returning to him, though. There is no denying their bond. His absence is like a missing tooth, a gap she keeps prodding. He's not in the country, she thinks. The bond has been reciprocated but not yet sealed from what she recalls of her research. It's strange though: she would never have thought of him that way before all this, but now her dreams and daydreams all centre around his deep voice and long-fingered dexterous hands and what he might look like underneath all those robes.
Harry and Ron scamper off to become junior Aurors, to the surprise of perhaps no one. Hermione decides to go back to Hogwarts and sit her NEWTs properly, but they have to delay the return of students for a month to get the Castle back into shape.
After some more weeks spent researching her options she calls in a favour from Kingsley who sets her up with an international Portkey ticket and a note with some names on it.
Currently she is seated in a pub in Brisbane with a pint in front of her, trying not to cry too openly. She's been in Australia for a week. Tracking her parents down wasn't too hard with a couple of illicit spells and the use of Muggle phone books, but she can't see a way to break the charm. In the end she had to re-Obliviate the visit from their minds and flee, and thus her presence in a shabby pub down the road from her hotel.
"What does it take for a wizard to escape you, Miss Granger? Must I board a rocket to the moon?"
There, across the pub, is Severus Snape. He's not as pale as he used to be, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and with his hair tied back, but there is no mistaking the large nose and the sour glare he directs at her. His arm is free from the Mark, she notes.
She stares at him long enough for him to raise an eyebrow at her, and then promptly bursts into tears.
Muttering a curse he flicks his wand in her general direction and moves closer. She can sense the Muffliato around them as she tells him everything about her parents. The search, the failures.
"Silly girl. You should have told me."
Anger flares like a torch. Forgetting her tears, she draws herself up straight and glares at him. "Yeah? When, exactly? In the Shack? In the Infirmary when I tried to keep you from dying, again? When you came to tell me you were leaving the country? Oh wait, you never did tell me, you just left in the middle of the night!"
He reaches a hand across the table, laying it on top of hers. The touch jolts her like a static charge on a cold winter day. He feels warm and she wants more.
"I'll help you."
She sniffles. She's full to bursting with emotions she cannot place. Maybe some of them are his, it's impossible to tell. "Why are you here?"
"Here, here or here, Australia?" He raises an eyebrow at her.
"Either. Both." As long as he keeps talking, and holding her hand, and looking at her.
He frowns, studying her. "Have you eaten? Anything?" When she shakes her head he brusquely orders her over to a booth and flags down the waitress.
Some time later they're scarfing down a portion each of lasagna and he's telling her about his months in Australia. Apparently it was the first destination he could think of, somewhere remote enough for no one to bother him, sufficiently far away for their bond to go mostly quiet. It stings a bit, that he's trying to flee from it.
"Something told me to come here, tonight." He raises an eyebrow at her again.
The lasagna and perhaps also his presence warms her stomach. "I'm still not sorry for saving you. Did you hear that you're free, by the way? Kingsley was talking about an Order of Merlin."
He grunts, looking away. He's pleased and confused and annoyed by himself for being pleased and confused, she can tell. His emotions are a lot easier to read now that she's calmed down a bit, but there's still a slightly muted feel to them compared to what she recalls from after the first transfusion. She wonders what her emotions feel like to him.
After eating he escorts her to her hotel. She tucks her hand in his arm and can't help the giddiness that bubbles up inside her just from being so close to him. It just feels right, somehow. His scent, the warmth of his body against hers.
The next morning he collects her from the hotel. In silence she Apparates them both to the Granger residence, a townhouse in the suburbs. She rings the doorbell, he promptly Stuns both of them, and they get to work. Well, he does, mainly, using Legilimency and some potion vials he fishes out from his pockets. She runs interference meanwhile, keeping the other parent Stunned, fetching him tea and sandwiches from the Wilkins' kitchen.
Finally it's done, after hours and hours of work. He wipes the sweat from his brow and drinks a full bottle of water, rising stiffly to stand beside her. Her father is sitting on the couch, staring sightlessly at nothing, while her mother is asleep in the bedroom.
"Did it work?" She's half whispering without really knowing why.
He shrugs. "As well as I'm able. Give them until morning, then you can see what they remember. Their memories will reintegrate over the next few weeks, maybe even months. You were very thorough."
"Hermione?" Her father croaks, turning slowly towards her. "Is that you?"
Her former Professor immediately flicks another Stunner at him and then pours a Sleeping Draught down the older man's throat with practised movements.
"As I said. He needs to sleep."
With an embarrassingly loud squeak Hermione flings herself into his arms. He staggers back a bit before his arms slowly go up around her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Conscious thought does not come into play when she pulls his head down with both hands and plants a kiss on his lips. She's not even sure where the urge comes from to linger, to mold herself closer to him, wanting to prolong the connection.
He inhales sharply and responds, his lips moving against hers and his tongue snaking out, tasting her, plundering her mouth. She responds in turn and for a moment it is as if time stops. His taste, the way he moves against her, the scent of his skin and she feels ablaze, a hot heavy weight coiling low in her stomach, seeking more.
When they surface for air his shirt is half unbuttoned and her hair is a mess from where his hands have tangled in it. She feels vibrantly alive for the first time in forever, her magic singing in her veins.
"Bollocks," he mutters. He's wild-eyed, breathing hard.
Taking two steps backwards he blindly fumbles for the doorknob of the house. It slams shut behind him, and she can feel him Apparating away.
His taste, his magic tingles on her lips. Slowly she traces them with her fingers.
Did they just… confirm the bond?