Phew, almost didn't think I was going to get this chapter up this weekend, but I managed it.

Thank you so everyone who's reviewed and followed! I absolutely adore reading your reviews, and I find myself going back to read over them when my confidence is lacking as a reminder that people do actually enjoy what I write!

Luna's response to Hermione's request came the next morning over breakfast. Poor little Pigwidgeon burst through the window with an undignified squawk, then fell flat onto his face, very nearly landing in Ron's scrambled eggs. With a chirp of satisfaction at a job well done, he held out his leg, and Hermione untied the small scroll attached to it.

'We should probably think about getting another owl for the house,' said Hermione absently. 'It's not really fair that Pig has to deliver mail for seven people.'

Ron counted on his fingers. 'Seven? Teddy got a baby pen pal, has he?'

She rolled her eyes. 'I meant Professor Snape obviously.'

'Oh,' said Ron, through a mouthful of eggs. 'Who'd he want to write to, though?'

She ignored his question and scanned her eyes over Luna's short letter.

'Right,' she said, rising from the bench and adjusting her hair into a neat ponytail, 'I'd better go bring Snape his breakfast.'

'I can't believe you're still bringing him his meals after he made you cry.'

'He apologised for it, Ron. Besides, you've made me cry loads of times over the years. Imagine where we'd be if I'd held it against you.'

'Yeah, but it's different,' Ron said with a scowl. 'We were friends.'

'And that's supposed to make it better?' she laughed, plating up two slices of toast and some eggs, then cast a warming charm on it for good measure and making up a small teapot.

'I just think it's a bit weird you're suddenly so keen to be his nursemaid, that's all,' Ron said grudgingly.

She felt a stir of irritation. 'I'm not his nursemaid, Ron. I'm bringing him his meals while Kreacher's sick. It's really not that big of a deal.'

Ron grunted. 'Well, don't take too long, will you? I feel like we've barely spent any time together since you got back from Australia.'

Barely spent any time together? What was he talking about? They'd eaten practically all their meals together, slept in the same bed every night and had enjoyed a lengthy snogging session on the drawing room sofa yesterday evening.

'I shouldn't be too long,' she said. On her way out she caught sight of an empty paw-shaped biscuit bowl by the back door. 'You haven't seen Crookshanks around, have you?'

'No, why?'

'I haven't seen him for ages,' she said, then shrugged. 'No matter. He seems to be eating the food I leave out for him so I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just in a grump with me for leaving him with your parents.'

'I'll keep an eye out.'

'Thanks,' she said, and proceeded to climb the now familiar path to the fourth floor.

A quiet grunt followed her knock today – clearly Snape wasn't in a conversational mood. She entered and found the curtains still drawn, such that it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness until she could make out his figure. He looked awful, the circles under his eyes darker than they'd been yesterday. She wondered whether he, too, suffered from nightmares; he'd surely seen many dark things during the war, if his account of Professor Burbage's death was anything to go by.

'Good morning, sir.'

'Is it?' he said sharply.

She put the tray down and went to draw the curtains.

'Leave them!' he barked, wincing away from the light that suddenly bathed the room, his hand coming up to rub the spot just above his left eye.

'But it's so dark in here,' Hermione protested.

'Merlin, girl, must you oppose every damn thing I say? Leave them. I've a splitting migraine.'

'Fine,' she said, pulling the curtains shut again, before adding under her breath, 'I was only trying to help.'

She didn't miss his eye roll, but chose not to say anything. After their brief but mostly cordial exchanges the day before, she hadn't been sure what to expect from the man today. Perhaps he simply wasn't a morning person. She watched as he greedily poured himself a cup of tea and lifted it to his lips, the tension visibly dropping from his shoulders at the first hit of caffeine. She was reminded of her mother, who could barely string a sentence together in the mornings until she'd had at least one strong cup of coffee. The thought of her mother brought a smile to Hermione's face, almost immediately followed by a familiar pang of guilt.

'I'll leave you to it in a moment,' she said. 'I just thought I'd let you know I received Luna's response this morning. She and her father will be coming on Friday afternoon.'

'Wonderful,' he drawled. 'I can hardly wait to spill my life story for the entertainment of the masses. No doubt legions of middle-aged housewives will be frothing at the bit to read the sordid details.'

She felt a stab of annoyance, but tried not to let it show. 'It won't be like that.'

'No?'

'No,' she said firmly. 'And you could try being a bit more grateful. Mr Lovegood is going out of his way to help you.'

'Nothing to do with selling more copies of his magazine, I'm sure.'

'You …' But she stopped herself just in time. And I thought Ron tested my patience. She drew herself upright and put on her best I've-had-it-up-to-here voice which always seemed to quell the boys. 'Right, I can tell you're in an awful mood, so I'm leaving now before I'm tempted to hex you.'

He gave her a dark look and began to furiously butter his toast as she spun on her heels and slammed the door behind her. She flew down the stairs in a snit, muttering all the insults she wouldn't dare say to Snape's face. Still fuming, she bumped into Remus on the third floor just as he was coming out his room.

'That infuriating man!' she said, not caring whether her voice travelled upstairs or not.

Remus chuckled. 'Going well, is it?' he asked as they fell into step and descended the stairs together.

'Just when I think it is, he's horrid again!'

Remus chuckled. 'That's Severus for you. You're braver than I, Hermione, for even trying.'

'It's nothing to do with bravery,' she muttered darkly, then let out a heavy sigh. 'So what are your plans for the day?'

'I thought I'd head to Hogwarts, help out with the repairs,' he said. Reaching the ground floor, they made for the basement kitchen, where Ron and George were engaged in what looked like a brutal and rather one-sided game of wizard's chess. 'To tell the truth, I've been going a little stir crazy here. It'll feel good to get out and do something useful.'

'You've been looking after your son, Remus, that's the most useful thing in the world.'

Remus smiled wanly. 'You're right of course. I didn't mean it like that. Merely that a change of scene would do me some good.'

'Well, I think it's a wonderful idea. I've been wanting to help out myself, but I've too much to do here now.' She picked up the pile of posters from the kitchen table. 'I'm putting up these up around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade today, but I'll try and make it to Hogwarts later if I can.'

'Don't worry about it,' said Remus, shaking his head. 'Hogwarts repairs can keep, Severus's freedom cannot. It's a very good thing you're doing.'

'Not that the git appreciates a damn thing she does for him,' said Ron bitterly, who had apparently been listening to them from across the room.

'I suspect it's his way of not getting his hopes up,' Remus said, noticing Hermione's expression. Then he added, in a low voice and only to her, 'I'm sure he is grateful, Hermione, even if he isn't very good at showing it.'

'I suspect you're right,' Hermione said sadly. 'I just wish he'd have a bit more faith in me.'

oOo

With a huff of indignation, Hermione stepped out of Madam Malkin's; that was the third establishment in a row that had refused to accept a Free Severus Snape poster. So far she'd only managed to rid herself of a handful; Tom at the Leaky Cauldron had been happy enough to take some off her hands, though Flourish and Blotts had only begrudgingly put one up in the shop window – Hermione suspected that was only because they were afraid of losing one of their best customers if they refused. Eeylops Owl Emporium had taken one, too, but only after she'd spent seventeen Galleons on a majestic long-eared owl, who was currently being held behind the counter, waiting to be collected.

Still reeling from her confrontation with Madam Malkin – and with a solemn vow never again to do business with the awful, vapid witch – she continued down the street, passing several boarded-up shops before coming to a stop outside Slug and Jiggers, the apothecary. There was a better chance of a good reception here at least, she reckoned.

The cauldron-shaped bell jingled above her as she entered the shop. The apothecarist. Mr Jigger, was behind the counter tending to a customer, so she happily perused the shelves for several minutes while she waited. When she finally presented Mr Jigger with a poster, she was pleased to find him very obliging.

'Ah yes,' the man said, peering at it through his horn-rimmed glasses, 'more than happy to help out. Good man, Severus Snape, wonderful potioneer. One of the best in fact. Charming too. Always has time for a quick natter about ingredients.'

Charming wouldn't be quite the word I'd choose, Hermione thought, but she gratefully thanked him when he promised to put the poster up for her.

'I never believed he was capable of murder,' Mr Jigger said. 'I remember him coming here for the first time, you know, as a young man of eleven.'

Now that piqued her interest. 'Really? What was he like?'

'Quite a shy little thing,' he said fondly. 'But ever so enthusiastic. You know how it is, most new Hogwarts students are desperate for wands or broomsticks or owls, far more exciting than jars of pickled newt eyes I'm sure. Little Severus, though, couldn't get enough of it. And ever so knowledgeable, even at that age – knew more about potions than half the OWL students, I'd say.' Mr Jigger scratched his chin thoughtfully. 'He came in with a pretty redheaded girl if I remember correctly.'

Hermione was about to tell him who the pretty redheaded girl had been but then remembered her promise to Snape.

'It means so much that you support him,' she said. 'I'll be sure to let him know.'

After the apothecary – and feeling much more positive now – she headed to what, before the war, had been Florean Fortescue's. The place had been boarded up ever since the late proprietor's disappearance almost two years ago, and the shopfront had been turned into something of a community noticeboard. Amongst the notices for lost owls and stolen broomsticks, there was a few faded Undesirable posters offering a hefty sum for her, Harry, and Ron's capture. After some examination, she determined them to be held on with a very strong sticking charm; it took nearly five minutes of focusing her magic, but eventually she managed to undo the enchantments, then with an immense feeling of satisfaction, she crushed the posters into a ball and dropped them in the nearest bin.

Fishing in her bag, she pulled out the remaining posters and, taking one, ran her wand along the top edge, applying a fresh sticking charm, then proceeded to work her way carefully down the edges.

'What's that you've got there?' came a voice from behind her.

Alarmed, Hermione spun around to see a tall witch in bright yellow robes peering over her shoulder.

'It's for a campaign,' said Hermione, suddenly nervous. 'To free Severus Sn—'

'I can see that,' interrupted the woman with a scowl. 'The man's a murderer. Why in Merlin's name would you defend a man like him?'

'Oh, but he didn't murder Dumbledore. That's what I'm trying to—'

But the woman simply laughed in her face. 'Didn't murder Dumbledore! Are you mad, girl? It was all over the papers! My nephew's at Hogwarts, you know, and he says Snape's as villainous as they come.'

'It's not true! He was a double agent, he was working for—'

The woman wasn't listening to a word Hermione was saying, and continued to talk as though she wasn't even there. 'It's a damn shame the dementors have been moved from Azkaban if you ask me. Although even the Kiss would be too good for scum like Snape.'

'If you would let me talk! Dumbledore asked him to kill him, it was part of a plan, you see, and—'

The woman spluttered and guffawed.

'First you say he didn't murder Dumbledore, now you say Dumbledore asked for it. Make up your mind! Eddie, love, you hear this?' she called to a bald man across the street, who then joined them, a politely interested look on his round face. 'Apparently Albus Dumbledore asked to be murdered.'

'It's true!' Hermione snapped.

'Course it is, love,' said Eddie, smiling at her indulgently, clearing thinking she was two Sickles short of a Galleon.

'Snape's probably got her under some sort of spell,' said the woman. 'You know he's not even in custody anymore? Walked straight out of St. Mungo's. Dangerous criminal like that and he's walking the streets.'

'Criminal, absolutely criminal,' Eddie agreed, nodding sagely.

'None of us are safe until Snape's locked up for good, I reckon.'

'I'm not under any spell! And you aren't listening to anything I'm saying,' said Hermione hotly. 'I'd be very happy to explain things to you, but – oh forget it.' She gave up when the couple merely turned away from her and smirked knowingly at each other.

A crowd was amassing now, interested bystanders who'd come to see what the raised voices were about. All of a sudden, Hermione felt very flustered. She'd expected to have to defend her actions, but she'd not even considered the possibility of being faced with an angry mob. If she had any sense she'd get out of there now. There were at least half a dozen witches and wizards surrounding her, ranging from curious to openly hostile. Doing her very best to ignore the couple still offering up their unfounded and uninformed opinions, she turned back to the poster, planning to quickly finish off the sticking charm and then get away before things became too heated.

But her way was blocked by large, burly blonde man with his back to her.

'Excuse me, would you mind—' she started. Then there was a tearing sound, and it took a few seconds for her to realise the man had torn the poster in two, leaving up only the section she'd already charmed.

'How dare you? I've only just put that up.'

'Nobody wants to see filth like this on our streets,' the man growled and proceeded to throw the bottom half of the poster to the ground and stomp over it with his boots. She felt a flash of outrage.

'You've no right!' she protested.

'Grab 'em, Eddie!'

The bald-headed man appeared again and whipped the remaining posters out of her hand before she could react. Hermione immediately lunged forwards to retrieve them, but the next thing she knew Eddie had Incendiod all her hard work while the sizable crowd cheered him on.

Instinct – refined and sharpened after almost a year on the run – brought her arm from her side; the hand that clutched her wand shook from adrenaline and anger and more than a hint of fear as she pointed it the man's face. A split second later a large, male hand was gripping her right forearm painfully. Sparks flew from the end of her wand.

'Wouldn't do that if I were you, missy,' the blond man growled.

'Let me go!' she cried, attempting to yank her arm back, but the man was too strong for her. 'You're hurting me.'

'Quintus, let go!' came a panicked voice from the crowd. 'Don't you know who that is? It's Hermione Granger!'

'Who?' the man said gruffly, even as Hermione noticed the spark of recognition in his eyes.

'She's a friend of Harry Potter's,' said the voice as a tiny wizard appeared at the front of the crowd.

The large man let go rather suddenly then, as though Harry's mere name carried a power of its own. Hermione gasped in relief and rubbed her bruised forearm, then immediately spun to face the bald-headed man who'd burned all her hard work.

'What the hell did you do that for?' she hissed, before addressing the crowd at large. 'Who do you any of you think you are, judging a man before you know any of the facts!'

'We've all read the facts!' said a witch wearing a red hat.

'You've read Rita Skeeter's baseless gossip fodder, you mean?' said Hermione. 'Everything that woman has written about him has been utter drivel, you must see that.'

'You just don't like her because of the stories she wrote about you a few years ago.'

'Which were also entirely false, and how I know she's no more than a hack!' Hermione snapped. 'Rita Skeeter wouldn't know the truth if it hit her in the face, and if any of you actually believe a fraction of what she writes, then frankly you're all as stupid as she is.' The prudent part of her brain told her to leave it at that, but her hot-headed side was quickly winning over it. She raised herself to full height and latched onto the outrage bubbling within her. 'Severus Snape is a hero! He was working as a spy the entire time under Dumbledore's orders and without him we'd never have won the war. While you were all sitting at home twiddling your thumbs, he was out there risking his life for you. You should all be ashamed of yourselves!'

With that, she spun on her heel and brushed past the crowd, who had been struck dumb.

She rushed down the street, furious tears threatening to blind her path, before she darted down a dark, narrow passageway. She pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. Counted to ten. Breathed deeply and willed the anger to dissipate.

Godric's knickers! What have I done?

She could feel her magic crackling just beneath the surface. Apparition would be a very bad idea until she was fully in control of her emotions and her magic. Besides, she needed to head back to Eeylops and pick up her new owl first …

'A most impressive display, Miss Granger.'

Her eyes flew open; she'd hoped to never have to see the owner of that particular voice ever again. Her wand was out her pocket in an instant.

Lucius Malfoy was leaning casually against the side of a building a few paces down from her, his walking stick in one hand, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

'Though if your aim is to win them over, you might find a little charm goes much further than insults to their intelligence,' he continued.

'Like you charmed the Wizengamot into letting you free, you mean?'

She gripped her wand tightly, even though rationally she knew he wouldn't try anything in public. Malfoy lifted an eyebrow, but otherwise ignored her statement.

'How is Severus? He's interned at Order headquarters, is he not?'

She bristled. 'What's it to you?'

'I happen to be very fond of him. I still consider him a friend, though after Potter's stunning revelations on the battlefield I rather doubt the sentiment is returned.' He was approaching her now. She tensed further. As he drew closer, she couldn't help but notice how much better he looked than the last time she had seen him – his skin was less waxy and the bags under his eyes were gone. He'd put on weight, too. Freedom had clearly been treating him well. 'I admit to being rather curious how a young Mud— Muggle-born witch such as yourself came to be defending the honour of a known Death Eater.'

'You know full well he's no more a Death Eater than I am,' said Hermione coldly. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr Malfoy. I have places to be.'

Turning from him, she prepared to leave.

'You don't wish to ask for my assistance?' he called after her.

She came to an abrupt stop and whipped her head around. 'What assistance could you possibly offer? You'll be speaking against him at his trial, won't you? Wasn't testifying against remaining Death Eaters one of the stipulations of your pardon?'

'Indeed,' the man said solemnly. 'Of course I wasn't aware Severus had survived when I agreed to that.'

She scoffed. 'As if it would have made a difference.'

'Possibly not,' he said in a tone of voice that left her in no doubt it wouldn't have made the blindest difference at all. 'But I can offer my assistance in other ways.'

Hermione eyed him sceptically. 'Such as?'

'I have ways and means, Miss Granger,' he said, approaching her. It took every ounce of willpower not to step back. 'Money and connections can get you very far in this world. A law amended. An audience with a department head.' He lowered his voice. 'An influential member of the Wizengamot ousted from their position.'

She couldn't help gaping at him. 'That's highly illegal.'

'And highly effective,' he said with a smirk, and drew back.

Hermione thought for a moment, then shook her head. 'No. I'm not doing anything illegal. We finally have an opportunity as a magical community to rid ourselves of all the corruption that's polluted the Ministry for decades,' she said, shooting him a pointedly dirty look. 'That's no way to go about rebuilding wizarding society.'

'Ever the virtuous Gryffindor, I see,' drawled Malfoy. 'Poor Severus. Still, I hear conditions in Azkaban have greatly improved since I was last there. Should you find you ever change your mind, however, I believe you know where to find me.'

Hermione said nothing, merely watched the blonde with a wary expression. Suddenly Malfoy's face turned serious as he leaned in closer. 'You may think me heartless, Miss Granger, but I no more desire to see my old friend languish in that dreadful place than you do.'

With that, he stepped back and Disapparated, and she was left standing alone in the dark alleyway.

Did I mention how much I love reviews? ;)

I have a busy week coming up and will be away next weekend, so unfortunately the next chapter may be delayed.