The flat is rather quiet. Mrs. Diggory comes up occasionally to dust the doorstep. And one day, she nearly tumbled down the steps when out of the door came a blue-eyed little tidbit with the reddest hair and the widest smile.
"Hello, Nanny!"
She grasps the railing tightly and gapes her mouth. This wasn't in the rental agreement. Only one for the flat. Pip and Frodo the hounds pop up and the little girl is now scratching them behind the ears. The doors open again and Hermione steps out in a brown trench. Now there are two in the flat.
"What on Earth and Hell Below," she mutters. Hermione adjusts the knapsack on the girl and gives her a kiss before scratching Pip's ear.
"Mrs. Diggory, I'm happy you're out. I was hoping we could rearrange the rental agreement to include two."
"Well certainly, if you can enchant the room. But a forewarning would have been appreciated. This is your.."
"Lily-Rose." The girl pops down the steps and hands Mrs. Diggory a small box of Butter-biscuits and a jar of MilkBones for the pups. "And there are more of those to come."
Mrs. Diggory cannot refuse such a generous gift, especially from a newly appointed Auror. Hermione's badge grows brighter than her face. The dark fabric, characteristic of the Auror department and a polished badge replaces the brown capes she dons.
And as Hermione leads the girl to school, not even the dark cape can mask the skies. Nothing has changed,
The streets still bustle with men and wizards bustling to work. The clock now strikes seven in the morning correctly. The gentlewizard descending from the bus flicks his cigar only once and it lights with a flip. He takes a deep drag and carries on to work. The smell of fish no longer bothering him. The copy of the Daily Prophet has no mention of the Roses or the Minister, it had been almost two weeks and now a photo of some prisoner grazes the headpage with the title:
Have you seen him?
Hermione is sure to find out if she had when she will enter Robards Jr.'s office. She hadn't arrived late all week and she is sure they will promptly start the Auror meeting without her. She walks hand in hand with Lily-Rose towards her school.
"You will make friends soon enough," she says as she watches the youngsters playing in the yard. But Lily-Rose waves to a boy up ahead and calls out his name. He sees her and grins and grips the fence, sticking out his tongue. His mother yanks him away and scolds him. Lily-Rose has enjoyed it. Perhaps her girl already had found her place. It was time Hermione found her own.
She gives her a kiss and pushes her off towards the yard. She skips off. Now she is standing in line with the rest of the kids and the little boy is pulling her braids. She turns to him and his hair fizzles up in a droplet above his head and he grasps at it with shock. Then the rascal waves back to Hermione jumping up and down before her instructor pulls her inside.
Hermione waits until every last student goes behind the closed doors. The cape wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She wonders if Lily is the only girl without a father, though it isn't so uncommon after the war. He holds her hand to her cheek to stop a tear from falling. Back to business as usual.
She heads down the street. And as before, she turns at the sight of every wizard with dark hair. Or a stern gaze. Or strange clothes. She does not know why she'd expect him to show up. And if he did, she would never recognize him. A devil would never come back the same way as it had before.
She's nearly knocked to the ground by an insolent stranger. Much so that her briefcase spills to the floor. She bends down and whips them back in, careful not to use the same enchantments. She would not want the mortal to see her. She looks up and the man's brown hair flashes forward and he grins. She thanks him for his help and walks forwards towards the Ministry Entrance. The man disappears into the crowd. Not him.
She takes one final breath of fresh air, one final look in the distance before vowing to head inside. A most incredible journey, a most incredible day. Now even the sun had come out and sparkled off the bells of St. Micheals Cathedral. It was a minute to eight and the bells rang exactly eight times.
She gripped her case tighter. It was all she'd ever wanted. One more chance to prove herself worthy of the badge. And now it glistened in the morning light.
She did not notice, but in the crowd, a shadow walked forward. And the bells warned her. They sang seven times.
She thought it odd. Had they not fixed the clocks since Snape disappeared again?
He approached closer and the bells rang six times.
Very annoying and unfortunate.
Five rings. Dong Dong Dong Dong Dong.
She had the feeling she was being watched, she glances around.
Dong Dong Ding Dong.
She spotted someone coming out of the crowd. Someone with dark hair and red from his chest.
Dong Ding Dong.
The face now closer and she could see the outline more clearly. Her throat tightens. His chin, his nose, that hairline.
Ding Dong.
And the dark eyes. She steps forward to look closer into them. Down and down the steps.
Ding.
And now he looked rather hopeless, some faded rose in his hand and his smile glowed brightly. She had recognized him. And in that whole London square, there had not been a happier face. Some would say the sun never shines past Big Ben, but they have not seen his face. He approaches her and she tugs the flower from his hand tossing it aside. And grabs his hands to hers.
"Gods, you expect presents after this!" he flicks the rose back out off the floor and the petals stick on the stem again. She reaches for it but he weaves it into the lapel of her jacket.
"Snape," she bites barely noticing the beautiful Osaria rose glistening with dew above her freshly melded badge.
"And no horns or tail either."
"Oh to Hell with the horns." She cannot help but to kiss his cheek. He seems rather stunned, despite kissing her much more than that. But after his memory returns to him, he leans forward and gives her a very proper welcome. He grasps her back and pulls her inside. Caressing every inch of her curls as they fall from her coiffed hair. Running his fingers up her neck and digging his nose into the soft cheek as he trailed his lips towards her ears.
She pulls back abruptly.
"I am a working witch after all."
"Well that you are, I almost forgot how uptight you were about your job. Nearly!" He adds the last part after she chides him with her brows.
"The girl can't go to school without books or clean frocks."
"I earn enough for her clothes," Hermione reasons.
"But what will happen when she is admitted to Hogwarts? The economy isn't growing any better and I can only imagine how much new capes will cost her. Add a wand, a couple of cauldrons and a broomstick-"
"She's only eight, I will have plenty of time to save. What makes you think I need your galleons to support her?"
"It would be rather helpful. Besides, you were the one who appointed me as your Guardian Devil and I don't remember losing the title. In fact, I cherish it quite a bit. Just like your little notebooks filled with rules and that tea you brew with your biscuits."
"I'm sure they have biscuits and notebooks in that cottage of yours in Devon?"
"Well they certainly do but they don't have that special brand of witch with her curly hair and her whip-smart little tongue. Nor do they have precocious red-headed girls and toads and talking cats. In fact, they don't have much of what is rather needed by me in that town."
"And the cottage? You like your 'quiet and peaceful retirement'"
"Well, apparently there can be too much quiet in four walls."
"Oh? So if I understand correctly, you're telling me that you don't want to be retired anymore?"
"I think the better question is, what do you plan to do with your time off from being London's new Ministry Auror?"
"I'm sure we can compromise. To the drawing board at five as per usual. And Sev? When I come home from work, do find me another one of those Rubin Bird Leather Notebooks? They really don't come by often in the stores."
He mentally prepares himself from that very awkward conversation with Mrs. Diggory and her abominable little hounds. "I'll see what I can do, Miss Granger."
Beyond the couple in deep embrace, the bells of St. Martins ringing, the cigar-smoking wizard with dirty pants, the Osaria Rose Gardens, the Ginger Cat and the little red-head staring out of the window, a row of bedlams sit. In their hands, tropical fruits. And from their eyes, the blue juices ooze and their lips curl into a sardonic smile.