Fall had taken its firm hold of Scotland when Hern cornered him in public. Outside of Hogwarts, the air was crisp and clear, the smell of smoke from people's fireplaces an unyielding reminder that winter was soon on the way, and the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall sported grey clouds that promised rain.

Severus had recovered completely from his little break from teaching and he was on his way to dinner when a voice behind him made him stop in his track between the Slytherin and Gryffindor long tables.

"Professor Snape!"

The shout was loud enough for all the Great Hall to hear and he watched with displeasure as the students' eyes turned towards him.

"Professor." Hern caught up to him, a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. "I'm pleased I found you," he said. "Have you heard about my new idea?"

Severus shook his head, surreptitiously trying to edge forward so that the conversation didn't have to take place where everyone could hear. Hern though, grasped his arm and held him back.

"Wait," he said, his voice still louder than necessary. "You'll be interested to hear this. I have a new Defence project coming up and I need your expertise."

"Is it about the Duelling Club?" piped the Slytherin who was sitting closest to them. She looked up at the two professors, eagerness shining in her eyes. "You told us we'd be able to sign up…"

Severus was about to bark at her to mind her own business, but Hern got there first.

"Now, now," he said, twinkling down at the girl. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm going to need help from another teacher and I haven't even had the opportunity to ask Professor Snape yet." He turned to Severus, with a satisfied smile. "So, Severus. Help me give the students a real show so that they'll learn how to properly duel. What do you say? Professor Corner told me you did an excellent job with something similar a couple of years back."

Severus hesitated. He could see the expectant faces of the students looking up at him and he gritted his teeth against the cunning way that Hern had trapped him. At the Teacher's table, Hermione watched them with a frown between her eyes. Next to her, Filius smiled encouragingly.

"Filius might be willing, of course," said Hern, following his gaze, "but he is rather busy. Besides, I don't think that even I could be a match against him…" He smiled cheekily, looking Severus up and down. "Against you on the other hand…"

The challenge was too supercilious to be refused. Severus gave Hern a dark look, trying to ignore the way he felt hard done by. No doubt, the man was delighting in this opportunity to humiliate him.

"Fine," he said, jaw set. "But don't expect me to hold back. I'll have you know that the last teacher I duelled never managed to utter a single spell."

"I've heard," said Hern slyly. "Gilderoy Lockhart, was it?" He chuckled. "I'm sure he just decided to go easy on you…"

"Wicked!" The Slytherin girl looked up at them in awe before turning to her friends. "Did you hear that?" she said. "Hern is duelling Snape in front of the whole school, it's going to be a-"

Severus tried to shut out the students' excited chatter as he made it to his seat, willing himself not to hear words such as 'blood-bath' and 'gore'. He had been played and now he would have to face the consequences. Surreptitiously, he glanced at the smug, young man who sat beside him. They weren't evenly matched, that much was obvious. Severus' effort in the war had been more about the battle of minds than bodies and the last time had duelled anything that could stand its ground was when Hagrid's hippogriff sliced open his arm after he had killed Dumbledore.

Even then, he'd turned and fled.

Hern caught him looking and put his fork down. "Good sport," he said with a grin. "For a moment there I actually thought you were going to refuse."

Severus picked at his dinner, wishing he had. He could feel Hermione's eyes on them and for the first time in a while, he just wanted her to look elsewhere.

The following week, as Hermione went through her bookkeeping, she had taken some time off to search for Severus' medical record. Poppy had kept a file for each teacher in a separate closet from the students' files. Usually, there weren't many recordings in them, only the odd request for a potion or another, together with lists of allergies and any permanent medications, but for some, like Severus, who had also been students of Hogwarts, the files were rather thick.

Most of the recordings were from the time before he started to teach, and there were several instances of hexing and broken bones, but she also found that he had been indisposed on several occasion as a young teacher due to potion accidents. Before 1981, there were also many signs of his perilous position in the war, with injuries to both mind and body, and she quickly passed by record after record of cruciatus damage, curses, and prescriptions for stress medication and anti-depressants.

She slowed down when she reached the years of her own schooling, taking a kind of wistful interest in reading about that time from another's perspective. She noted that in her first year, Severus received a tetanus vaccine, no doubt after his squabble with Fluffy, and smiled to herself while learning that in her second year, he had his hand treated for burns after trying to invent a potion to reverse an animal-hair-polyjuice accident in a student.

Then there was the year of the Dementors, when he got a concussion from being hit by three stunners at once and increasing bouts of insomnia and stomach pain as they neared the time of Voldemort's resurrection. At the end was his stint as a spy in the second war against Voldemort, which was less than pleasant reading, the mildest entries being repeated occurrences of a dislocated shoulder.

Hermione read them with a bad feeling in her stomach. It wasn't any of her business and even if she was the resident Mediwitch, she had no right to snoop around just to satisfy her own curiosity. The record, though, was oddly blank after Severus returned to teaching after his trial. With her questions unresolved, she returned the file to the cabinet. Maybe the best thing was just to ask him about it. It was after all the decent thing to do.

However, something else did come out of that day. As she went through her bookkeeping afterwards, she made a rather peculiar discovery, which made her check Cavan's schedule quickly and head in the direction of the third floor: Angel's Trumpet was missing from the monthly summary.

She opened the door to the Defence classroom, crossing the floor beneath the skeleton of a small dragon, which still hung suspended from the ceiling. Cavan's office was located on top of a small stone staircase at the front of the room and she knocked briskly on the door that bore his name.

"Cavan?"

He was sitting behind his desk, grading papers with a quill that looked like it must have come off an Eagle Owl. He wore a handsome forest green robe with silver lining, which did a good job of emphasising the strength of his upper body.

"Hermione!" He smiled brightly. "Long time, no see. If I hadn't known better, I might almost have thought you were avoiding me."

"Of course not." She smiled as well. "Why would I do that?" She busied herself with looking around his office, secretly wondering if there was a smidgeon of truth to that statement. If it was, it hadn't been intentional, at least not completely...

There were several objects on his desk that she recognised from Harry's office at the Auror Department and he had a large dummy in one corner, similar to those they had used in the Room of Requirement when practicing defensive spells for Dumbledore's Army. Otherwise, the room was much as she remembered it from Umbridge's reign, except from the all the horrible cats and ghastly furniture.

"What brings your bright presence to my corner of the world then?" asked Cavan. "Have you finally decided to come to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

He had asked her about it some days previous, but she had held back on her reply, not sure if she wanted to join the 'work night out', which some of the staff had instigated on Friday evenings. She suddenly regretted that she hadn't thanked him no from the get go.

"No, actually," she said a little hesitantly, "it's not about that. I…" She pulled the bookkeeping folder half-way out from her charmed bag. "My errand is of a more…economical nature."

"Right." He straightened immediately. "Actually I've been meaning to talk to you for a couple of days, but I've been a little busy with a side project I'm planning." He looked around his office and pulled his wand from a holster in his lower arm. "We'll have to go to the library though. Catherine found something, you see. In an old Ministry notification from just after the war against Voldemort."

"Really?" Hermione blinked. "I don't see what that-"

"I'll show you." He placed a hand on her back, guiding her out of the office and cast a series of complex spells to secure the door. Hermione hurried down the stairs, not all that eager to be touched so familiarly as they walked through the corridors.

They met up with Catherine Poe in the Library, choosing a group of tables in a spot where she could observe the entrance and her desk, but without being overheard. The librarian placed a folded Ministry pamphlet before them and pointed at the date on the top of the front page.

"24th of October, 1998," she said. Catherine was in her mid-thirties, a quiet and gentle soul who, much like Hermione, preferred to spend her time with her nose buried in a book. She looked at Cavan. "I found it with a modified accio, targeting books or papers containing the search term you provided. There's a whole bunch of these pamphlets in the newspaper section, but only one had the words you wanted."

Hermione sat down to read. The pamphlet contained a list of forbidden artefacts and potions, many of them clearly made from, or meant to aid Dark Magic. Cavan came to stand alongside her, leaning over her shoulder to open it at the last page, entitled 'Substances'.

"Look here," he said, pointing at an entry a little way down the list. "Angel's Trumpet."

"So…" Hermione rubbed her chin. "It was forbidden just after the war? Is it still…?"

"I assume so." Cavan lingered by her side. "I was confused, you see, because it isn't illegal in France, just here."

"Why would that be?"

"Don't know yet," he said, "but it will be easy to find out. I'm going to pay a visit to the Improper Use of Magic Office this weekend. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Thank you, Chaterine."

"You're welcome." She smiled at them and went back to her desk. Cavan sat down beside Hermione.

"So," he said. "What was it you wanted to show me?" He nodded at her bag and she opened it, pulling out the familiar red file.

"The accounting for this month is done," she said. "But it isn't there anymore."

Cavan blinked. "The entries stopped?"

"It seems so." She sighed. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but… It's been there every month as far back as I have had the time to search, yet now, it's suddenly disappeared. It seems like whoever did it is onto us knowing about it."

"Perhaps." Cavan pulled the folder closer to him. "Are any of the old entries erased?"

"No." She shook her head. "Just the new one, which didn't appear. Do you think we should go through all the different files?"

"I'll certainly check Defence," he said. "But going through all of them… That sounds like a lot of work."

"I agree. But what do we do then?"

Cavan shut the folder. "We report it," he said. "I'll take it up with Filius and file a testimony when I visit the Ministry. At least our hands will be clean."

"Good." She sat back in her chair, leaning her hand on the table and watching the lobby, where a large group of sixth-years had just arrived to the Library, accompanied by Severus. He had probably assigned them a difficult research project and she smiled, attempting to catch his eye, but he seemed to have his hands full with signing permission slips for his students.

Cavan, who sat with his back towards the door, didn't seem to notice. After a moment of silence, she could feel his hot gaze upon her.

"There's something in your hair…"

He leaned forward to pick a quill out from the bun at the nape of her neck.

"Oh…" She felt her face redden, from both embarrassment and awkwardness. "So that's where it went…"

"Yeah." Cavan let the tip of the quill trace a path along her jaw in a way she was sure was meant to be teasing. "You do that a lot," he said. "I've even seen you with one at dinnertime. It's quite charming, actually."

Hermoine wondered if that move had landed him many dates in the past, but she soon had other things to think about as Cavan's placed his hand on top of her own. Just then, Severus straightened from his paperwork, accidentally meeting her gaze. She froze and he quickly looked away.

"I think you're attractive," said Cavan close by her ear. "I'll be a very happy man if you join us to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"I don't know, Cavan…" Trapped, she tried to think of a way to move her hand away without coming across as rude. She had a child to care for and a new job to settle into. A casual fling was far out of the question and she wasn't ready to share her life with anyone other than Rose at the moment…at least not with him. She tried to appear apologetic.

"Maybe we can go together sometime?" asked Cavan, a little more hesitantly, "just the two of us…?"

He squeezed her hand and let go.

"Just think about it…"

They wrapped up their job in the library to go each their separate ways, but Hermione didn't care all that much about the forbidden flower any more.

She couldn't shake from her mind the way Severus had tensed when he discovered them in the library. As he raised his dark eyes at her, something akin to hurt had flashed across his face and the frown line that crossed his forehead had deepened. She suspected that he must have misunderstood the situation entirely.

So on Friday, when Ron had a match night and Rose was due for a sleepover at Hogwarts, she busied herself with tidying her rooms, finding herself a little guilty about her newly formed plan to use her daughter as a decoy. When classes were over, she picked her up from day school in Hogsmeade, trailing behind her as they made it down to the Dungeons to Severus' door. Rose, who seemed to know her way by heart, knocked and waited.

"Enter," came Severus' muffled voice, "unless your name is Hern."

They did, finding him bent over a stack of books on the floor, which he seemed to be sorting into his shelves. He stood a little straighter when he noticed who it was and Hermione hid a small smile behind her hair. Unlike earlier, when he had seemed tired and drawn, there was a lot more energy to his movements and his face was back to its usual shade of sallow.

"Sev'rus!"

Rose skipped first into the room with obvious familiarity, her eyes immediately landing on his fireplace. She clapped her hands together. "You kept it!"

Severus's eyes softened and Hermione followed his gaze to the get-well card, which was perched on the mantle. "Of course I did," he said. "It isn't every day that I have my portrait drawn, you know."

Rose grinned and skipped over to the window, through which Hermione could see that the water in the Black Lake was a lot muddier than last time she had been there. She went over to the fireplace to have a look at the card once more.

"Did the Grindylows pick a fight with the Giant Squid again?" asked Rose, placing her small palm on the glass.

"Yes," said Severus distractedly, "I don't see why they bother though, the squid always wins…" He looked questioningly at Hermione.

"What's up between you and Cavan Hern?" she asked, fingering the card in her hands. "Did you have a disagreement?"

"Oh that." She heard him sigh as he cast his eyes at Rose as though to make sure she wasn't listening in. "No, no. Nothing special."

She raised her eyebrows sceptically. "Liar."

"Alright, fine." He looked at her askance. "You must have guessed already that he isn't my favourite person..."

"Yeah, I knew..." She shrugged airily. "I was just wondering why. Cavan seems friendly enough though. I think he's-"

"Cavan?" Severus scowled. "Friendly?" His colour rose as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

Hermione blinked. "Yes, I suppose. He doesn't strike me as someone who would pick a fight just for the sake of it…"

"Well." Severus shook his head, seemingly making an effort to rid himself of the thought of the man. "You might be right about that. But it doesn't mean that I have to like him."

Hermione suddenly regretted having said anything. The pleasant atmosphere was spoiled, making her mission a lot harder than it needed have been. She cast around for a change of subject, but was suddenly saved by Rose, who seemed to have given up the search for Merepeople as a bad job.

"Can I have a caramel, Sev'rus?" She tugged on his cloak and pointed to the kitchen.

Severus eased out of his tense stance, turning to look down at her. "Not now, Rose," he said with a glance at Hermione. "You'll have dinner soon, I'm sure. Another time."

"Please," she whined, and Hermione was about to admonish her when Severus took hold beneath her arms and lifted her as though she weighed nothing onto the kitchen counter, which was now free of hidden artefacts.

"You can't have one," he said, leaning closer, "because there aren't any left." He widened his eyes dramatically, whispering to her as though it was a secret although Hermione could hear him clearly. "I ate them all!"

Rose giggled delightedly and reached out to play with his long hair. "Did you?" She looked at Hermione with sparkling eyes, "and Mum let you?"

He nodded, deadpan, keeping still so that Rose could touch him as she pleased. "Every single one. But she doesn't know that yet."

"I don't think she'll yell at you," said Rose gently as she moved her fingers clumsily over his forehead and nose. "Even if you spoiled your appetite. Because I think-"

"Hah…" Hermione cleared her voice. "I'm right here, you know," she said, singsong. "Your secret isn't so secret anymore, Severus." She nudged his side. "And you shouldn't eat so many sweets, even if I did give them to you." She gave a pointed look at Rose. "They're not very healthy."

She said the words almost automatically, secretly marvelling at the way he seemed so carefree and relaxed around her daughter, allowing her to poke and prod at his face without the slightest hesitation. She had no idea he could be that mild and lenient towards anyone, yet couldn't deny the tiny stab of envy, borne from the desire that she would be the one to touch him so easily.

Severus turned to Hermione, traces of recent laughter lingering around his eyes and mouth. "Your mother is right," he said, looking straight at her, "but I don't care."

"Why not?" Rose leaned forward, bracing herself on his arm as she slid down to the floor.

He smoothed down her hair, making the gesture seem like the most natural thing in the world. "Because they were the best caramels I've ever had."

Startling them both, Rose wrapped her arms around his waist in a spontaneous hug. His eyes widened as she squeezed him, betraying the astonishment that always seemed to accompany Rose's affections towards him. He shook his head once in disbelief before tentatively wrapping a large hand around her back, the shield of his cloak swallowing her tiny arms.

"My, Severus," said Hermione lightly. "I didn't know you had a sweet-tooth like that, it seems you're even worse than Rose is."

"I- ah…apparently…" He almost seemed bereft when Rose broke free from his hold and skipped over to Hermione to pick the card out of her hand. She figured she could get him to agree to almost anything at that moment.

"So," she said, "we decided to invite you to have dinner with us tonight. We're having bangers and mash, with chocolate pudding for dessert. What do you say? Hungry?"

He searched her expression guardedly, his eyes finally landing upon Rose's hopeful face as she was placing his card back on the mantle. "I suppose I could eat…Where would…?"

"My place," said Hermione, "I have a kitchen just like yours. We often take dinner there, especially when Rose is home. I prefer it to the Great Hall anyway."

"Then I'd be delighted to…"

"Sev'rus?"

Both the adults turned.

"What's this?" Rose picked a beautifully crafted compass with brass casing from the mantle, close to where the card had stood. She studied it reverently, watching the tiny needle spin.

"It's a compass." Severus walked towards her and grasped her hand lightly to level it. "It shows you which way to go."

"Really? Towards what?"

He chuckled softly. "Not like that. Seamen used it when they were out on the open ocean so that they wouldn't get lost even though they couldn't see land." He opened the casing fully for her, indicating the cross of arrows. "See that? It's called the rose. It shows the cardinal directions and if you turn it so that the needle meets the red mark, it shows you which way is north."

"Like this?" Rose fumbled for a moment, twisting it this way and that.

"Just so." He pointed towards the door. "If you go that way and don't stop, you'll end up on the Pole."

"Is it magical?" Rose frowned. "Mum says that some muggle things won't work inside Hogwarts."

"This one does." He took it from her, squinting down at the engraved letters. "It doesn't run on electricity. The needle is magnetised, you see. It makes it align itself along the Earth's longitudinal axis."

Rose watched him, apparently captivated by this fantastical tale. "Why do you have it?" she asked in awe, making Hermioine smile. "Don't you know which way to go?"

"I don't always know…" Severus trailed off, seeming lost to a memory or thought. "But I have never used it like that." He closed the lid. "It was a gift from your Uncle Harry."

"Was it?" Rose's eyes widened in wonder. "Why would he give you this?"

Severus traced the rim of the casing with a finger before stealing a glance towards Hermione. She smiled encouragingly, feeling just as spellbound as Rose. As they spoke, she had been secretly watching his lips move. When they weren't pressed together in a sneer, they looked soft. And although they were thin, they were well shaped, especially the bow of his upper lip. They were, she decided, perhaps his best feature, and she wouldn't mind getting to know them a little more intimately.

"Because I…helped him, in a way," he said. "I suppose he feels that I protected him, just as the compass does to the sailors on the sea." He suddenly chuckled, sending shivers up Hermione's back.

"That," he added ruefully, "and maybe he thinks that I sometimes need to be shown which road to take."

Rose hummed. "That makes sense."

He looked at her through his hair. "You can have it, if you'd like."

"What?" Rose's mouth dropped open, astonishment and concern warring to dominate her features. "But you need it for yourself!"

"No…" He held it out to her, something tender floating past his expression as he watched her. "No, I don't think so. Not anymore."

"That is a very precious gift, I think," said Hermione. Rose nodded earnestly, and then picked it out of Severus' larger hand, examining it as though she saw it for the first time.

"Thank you." She flashed them a brilliant grin, grasping the compass in one hand and Severus' hand in the other. "Can we go now?" she asked eagerly, "I want to put it in my treasure box."

"Certainly." Hermione smiled. "If Severus agrees?"

He did and they walked to the first floor, Rose skipping along beside him, never once letting his hand go, even when he stopped to scold a group of third-years for littering the corridor with chocolate frog wrappings. For some reason he didn't seem as annoyed as Hermione would have expected, too distracted to dock points perhaps.

Their rooms were adjacent to the Hospital Wing, which was empty now, Hermione finally having a night off after dismissing her latest patient the day before, a certain Anton Clearwater, deeming him fully recovered after a nasty accident involving a spell that supposedly was meant to cure acne.

Hermione cooked dinner while Rose showed Severus her room, secretly enjoying the way his deep voice filled the air as she listened to soft sounds of their conversation through the bedroom door. It was strange to have a man in her flat again. After all this time, she had become used to Rose as her sole companion, and Severus was so distinctly dissimilar to Ron.

Not only was he taller and darker and older, but the most striking difference was perhaps their personalities. Ron was so easy to read that they had hardly needed conversation at all. She always knew what he was thinking, and it had never been difficult for her to anticipate and sometimes, she had to admit, maybe even manipulate his reactions.

Severus on the other hand, was much more guarded. He needed cajoling before he would share anything and there was that deeply set suspicion in him to overcome before she could gain his trust. He was also somewhat touchy, which sometimes threw her for a loop when trying to guess what his feelings were. She had no idea if that reflected a more intricate, wary soul or if it was simply because she knew Ron so well. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't boring.

His presence though, felt magical, and she revelled in it as they ate. When she talked, he listened and it pleased her to no end each time she managed to tease out that hard-won smile to grace his face. Rose seemed even more enthralled to have her 'Sev'rus' over, chatting freely about her friends in school and about Ginny's new kitten, a comfort present she had got herself while waiting for Harry to come around to them having their third child.

"More pudding, Severus?"

He placed his napkin on the table, simultaneously rescuing Rose's abandoned cutlery from falling to the floor. "Thank you, no," he said absently, putting his free hand on his stomach. "I've had more than I probably should."

"Then I'm glad you enjoyed it." Hermione smiled as she reached over to relieve him of the fork and gather their plates. "I realise it's not the most high-end meal I could have served, but since it's a weeknight…" She nodded her head at Rose.

"It was perfect." He leaned back in his chair, watching the girl, whose eyelids had started to droop.

"I guess it's bedtime," whispered Hermione. "She is usually asleep by eight, unless it's the weekend."

"Not tired," mumbled Rose, supporting her head in her hand. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Severus stood and stretched, a joint in his arm popping. "I suppose I'll leave you to it then…"

"No, wait." Hermione pointed him over to the sitting room before he could go and fetch his cloak. "You don't have to leave," she said quickly. "If you give me a moment to get Rose ready, I'll be back in no time. I think I even have some port in a cupboard somewhere…"

"Alright." He trailed over to her sofa, taking in the various knitted blankets she kept around. "Unless you'd rather I come back another time?" He watched her uncertainly. "I don't want to intrude…"

"No, no, have a seat." She waved him off, having no desire to see him leave already. "Rose just needs her teeth brushed and her hair combed and we can sit for a moment. I know I need to relax a bit after a long day."

But before she could finish all that, she had to come back in after him, ordered there by a very determined little girl.

"She wants to say goodnight to you." Hermione winced. "And…a story…"

Severus chuckled. To her relief, he didn't seem to mind and she followed him to Rose's room, watching from the door as she searched through a pile of children's books for her favourites.

"Sev'rus…" She yawned. "Would you read me a story please?"

"I'd be honoured." He crouched down next to her, picking up a book at random to examine. "Which one do you want?"

"This one." She held up an old one of Hermione's from when she was a girl. It was battered and dog-eared, and even as she stood there by the door, she could vividly recall the smell of the yellowing pages and the leather binding.

"Good choice." Obviously familiar with the title, Severus took the book from Rose and pulled a chair over to her bedside. He settled comfortably with the book resting on his chest and squinted down at the pages. Momentarily, Hermione felt a thrill of anticipation that he'd put his glasses on, but to her disappointment, he refrained.

Rose hurried to the bed, snuggling into her blanket and watching him with sleepy eyes and a smile on her lips. "I'm ready."

He opened to the first page, and once again, his soothing baritone voice filled the bedroom.

"The Mole," he read, "had been working very hard all morning, spring-cleaning his little home…"

Severus had fully expected Hermione to throw him out when he noticed that Rose started to nod off and was surprised to find himself by her bedside, reading her a story as though she were his own.

The thought didn't even frighten him. Instead of feeling out of his element, or place, it was like coming home and he found his thoughts straying whimsically to Ronald Weasley. The idea of someone willingly giving up on something this precious was so foreign to him that he wondered if it was at all possible that they had experienced the same thing…

"She's asleep."

Hermione was standing by the door, watching them with a soft smile on her lips. In her bed, Rose was breathing evenly, a small hand curled up beside her collarbone. He watched her for a moment, stealing a few short seconds of complete peace before he grunted and got up, closing the book silently and turning to join Hermione in the sitting room.

"Were you listening to all that?"

Her hair was wild from the work she had put into cooking their meal and getting Rose ready for bed, but her eyes sparkled in the dim lighting from the wall sconces.

"I love that story," she said, "and you have a great reader's voice. Ron always went too quickly and mine is far too shrill to do Badger convincingly."

"I bet you could do Otter, though." Severus smirked. "And perhaps even Rat."

"My patronus is an otter," she said, off-hand.

"Really?" He watched her, surprised that she would share such a personal piece of information. "I can't recall…"

"Understandable," she said lightly as she went over to her kitchen cabinet. "It's been a long time since you saw it. Do you like tawny port? I personally think we don't drink enough of it in Britain." Her voice became muffled as she climbed upon a chair to reach her the top shelf. "I learned to appreciate it while on holiday in France, but over there they have it before dinner, which I think is a bit mad. But then again, it is France after all, so why not..."

"Yes, please." He had hardly tasted it before, apart from the odd Christmas party, but wasn't about to deny her anything if it only meant he could stay a little longer. When she was back with a black bottle in hand, he pointed at the top button of his coat.

"Do you mind?"

She shook her head quickly. "Of course not. Make yourself at home."

She watched him as he removed his coat and he had to fight off a slight awkwardness as he sat there in front of her in just a white shirt.

"Sorry," he muttered, putting the jacket to the side. "It's a little uncomfortable."

"No matter." Her voice was somewhat shrill as she leaned in to pour his glass. "I can imagine you stand for most of the starching the elves have to do." She raised her eyes, which had a playful glint to them. "You always dress the same, though. I don't think I've ever seen you wear anything else…"

"My parents didn't have much money when I was a boy," he said. "I suppose I did look a little scruffy and I was teased about it in school, so when I was older I became determined not to let anyone see me like that again."

"Mm." She watched him over her glass. "What did your parents do for a living?"

"Father worked at a Mill…" He felt the corners of his mouth pull down. "At least for the time when he was able to sustain a job. Mother stayed at home…she was a witch." He stared when Hermione nodded. "You knew that?"

"I researched it once." She tilted her head and he could feel her gaze on his skin through the shirt. "When Harry found your old potions textbook, I looked up the name Prince in the Library and found her in an old yearbook. Did you ever play Gobstones yourself?"

"Yes." He frowned. "But never at her level…"

He wondered what else she knew about him and how much of his memories Potter had revealed to her, deciding that anything she might not know, he was certainly not going to tell her, but she broke him out of his thoughts with an odd sound that almost resembled a chuckle.

"Oh, Severus." She reached out to touch his forehead, where he knew he had a deep wrinkle between his eyes. Smiling slightly, she smoothed it out with her thumb. "You worry too much, don't be so suspicious. What does it matter if I know?"

He might have told her that it did matter quite a bit to him, and that he'd rather she knew as little as possible about the less stellar moments of his life, but at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. Because as she dropped her hand from his forehead, it landed briefly, but undeniably on his chest, making a trail of burning skin around to his shoulder.

It might have been accidental. And judging from Rose's behaviour, her family was most definitely a tactile lot. Hermione most likely behaved like this with all her acquaintances and he certainly wasn't used to this kind of thing. For all he knew, she probably brought friends and family over to dinner, touching their faces all the time. But although she certainly seemed friendly with Longbottom and Abbott, he had to wonder if she had done that to her colleagues…

Had she ever invited Hern?

Unconsciously, he flexed his left arm, which had become stiff from the unyielding grip he had on his glass.

"Does it hurt?"

He startled. "What?"

"That." She pointed at his hand. "It bothers you sometimes, I can tell. Will you let me have a look?"

He shook his head. "It's just the-"

"I know what it is." Hermione leaned towards him, beckoning impatiently to his arm. "Don't tell me you think I'll be frightened or repulsed." She scoffed. "I am a healer, you know. It takes a lot to do the first and the second even more. I've seen a Dark Mark before."

"I know..." Chastised, he extended his hand to her, allowing her to loosen the single button on his cuff and roll up his sleeve.

The mark stood out in all its glory, faded and sickly pale with blue veins underneath, but on Hermione's face was not disgust or horror. She traced it with a finger, her brow furrowed in concentration, but also, he noted, sadness and compassion.

"I've never seen another curse quite like it," she said contemplatively. "But then again, my specialty was afflictions of the mind so… Is there no way to remove it?"

"Not that I know of." He watched the top of her head, fighting off the desire to inch closer. "Is that where you worked then? The Janus Thickey Ward?"

"Yes." She nodded, her fingers still scorching a hole in his arm. "For six years, actually, but I couldn't stay. It was hard to work with the…"

She trailed off, her hands going limp, and he gently took back his arm to fasten the sleeve.

"Lockhart was there for some time," she said absently. "I actually found it a little sad that Cavan would snatch up on that duelling club idea of his..."

Severus shifted. The port tasted a little too much like plum for his taste, but it worked miracles on his nerves and after some time, he found himself leaning back in his seat with an arm draped over the sofa's armrest. At the mention of Hern, though, he was unable to hold back a groan.

But Hermione ignored him, seeming lost to a memory. "Not sad in that respect," she said. "I think it's a great initiative, but…" She looked up, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks. "I sort of had a schoolgirl crush on him." She winced. "Before he was revealed as a fraud, that is."

His eyes narrowed. "Really?"

She laughed; a light, sonorous sound, reminding him of a bell. "I am an idiot, I know." Her face turned serious again. "But it was awful in the end. Ron's wand wiped his memory and he ended up not knowing his own name for years."

He knew he was supposed to follow along on her story, but Severus couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment. Was that what Hermione's type of man was like? Like Lockhart?

Somehow, he had pictured her not caring about his uneven teeth and greasy hair or that he wasn't toned or young. For some reason, he had thought that she was different from Lily. Lily, who knew that Potter was an arrogant bully, but liked him nonetheless because he was rich and handsome. Lily, who flirted with Potter all the while as the Marauders were tormenting him…

Now, he wasn't so sure anymore. He had thought Hermione wasn't like that, but after all, she was the one who had been married to a rich, successful athlete for nearly ten years. And now, to learn that she had fancied Lockhart… The leap to Cavan Hern wasn't far at all, especially when considering that the man was actually versed in more than just one spell.

He turned quickly when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Severus?" Hermione was watching him, a small smile dancing around her eyes and mouth. "I seem to have lost you there."

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "So did he recover in the end?"

"Who? Oh, Lockhart?" She sighed. "Well, he's better. It was a gradual process, not that he remembers anything, but at least he can function on his own again. He was released a couple of years ago."

She looked away. "I did feel awfully bad about it for a long time. Ron and Harry thinks he deserved it, but… It was horrible what happened to him." She turned towards him again, the frown between her eyes deepening. "You know, I erased my parents' memories during the war…I…" She scrubbed a hand over her cheek. "I thought it was my job to protect them..."

"Oh…" Severus didn't know quite what to say. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but felt a little selfish for it in the face of her sorrowful tone.

"Anyway. I know better now." She looked towards Rose's bedroom. "It should never have been my decision to make. They didn't recover, you see, and I suppose that's why I started on my healer studies. A pity that I couldn't follow through, but I… I don't know. Memory spells… they just give me the chills."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He watched her through his hair. "But I don't think you should feel bad. I've had my share of deeds best left undone." He jerked his head in an attempt to shake it from his mind. "And that's putting it gently. At least yours had good intent at its heart. Did you ever find them?"

"Thank you." She smiled. "Yes. We visit them occasionally. Although they have no idea who I am. And they forget about us between each time…"

There was a soft, sound behind him and they both turned to see Rose standing by the bedroom door in her pyjamas, a stuffed kitten in her hands.

"Mum?" She hurried over to the sofa, climbing onto Hermione's lap.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Hermione petted her hair. "Did you wake up?"

She huddled into her mother's side, eyes large as she held the kitten tight. "I think there's a monster in the wardrobe..."

Hermione rolled her eyes, giving Severus an apologetic look. He smiled.

"It's late," he said, standing from his seat. "I'll be on my way."

Hermione stood as well, the girl in her arms. "Yes I suppose it's bedtime for all of us." She yawned discreetly. "I enjoyed this a lot though, Severus. Thanks for coming over."

"Sev'rus." Rose reached out for him, the other arm still hooked around Hermione's neck. "Mum," she said, "I want a goodnight hug from Sev'rus. He didn't give me one before."

"Oh, alright." Hermione huffed, moving closer so that she could reach him.

He closed his eyes as Rose pressed her tiny cheek to his, her gentle scent, mixed with that of children's toothpaste draping over him like a blanket. "Goodnight Rose," he said, working to conceal the slight catch in his voice. "Sleep well."

"Alright." Hermione said, as Rose pulled away. "I've got a monster to tackle, but I trust you can find your way out on your own."

"Of course." He nodded, picking up his coat from the sofa's armrest. But instead of leaving, Hermione shifted Rose on her hip, freeing an arm, which she placed on his shoulder.

"I want a goodnight hug as well," she said quietly. She watched his face in some apprehension. "If you don't mind…"

He didn't mind at all, but was too perplexed to speak. His stupid heart had made such a violent lurch that he wondered if he was about to suffer a heart attack and for a moment, he almost feared that she would interpret his silence as a refusal. But then, instead of hugging him, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, her curly hair tickling his chin and neck.

"Goodnight, Severus." She smiled, the skin next to her eyes and nose crinkling. "Sleep tight."

Only after they had disappeared into Rose's bedroom, did he regain his senses.

It was uncanny how Hermione seemed able to take anything in stride, while he was left floundering like a lost sheep, feeling like he was just waiting for the world to come down on his head. It was among his biggest faults. He loved too deeply. Just as he hated too deeply as well. He always invested too much, he knew this. In every endeavour, he would give everything he had and this applied more than anything to the people he cared about. He rarely cared that much for anyone, of course, but when he did, it was with an intensity and loyalty that would exhaust him. It was one of the reasons why there hadn't been a woman for him after Lily. It had taken him decades to get over that love and the devastating rejection that went with it. Pathetically, perhaps, he had felt that solitude was safer.

"Goodnight," he said to the empty room. Then he picked his cloak up from the peg by the door before casting one last look towards Rose's room as though wanting to imprint the image of the two people in his mind's eye forever.

If he never saw them again, then at least he had this.