A/N: A whole day early - what on earth is happening to me?

As always, thanks to everyone who's reviewed!

The doorbell rang at precisely nine o'clock on Friday morning, and immediately Mrs Black began to shriek and howl. Flustered, Hermione let Luna and her father in as she apologised profusely on behalf of the old hag.

'She doesn't seem like a very nice person,' said Luna offhandedly once Mrs Black was safely behind the curtains again.

'No,' sighed Hermione, turning back to her friend. 'One of these days we'll get around to removing that portrait. It's held on with the strongest sticking charm I've ever seen, I'm convinced it's some sort of dark magic.'

Mr Lovegood was looking interestedly about the grand entrance hall. 'So this is where Sirius Black used to live?' he said in an impressed tone.

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'Since he was the last in the Black line, it passed to Harry after he died.'

'Interesting choice of décor,' said Luna, eyeing the hideous troll-foot umbrella stand in the corner of the hall.

Hermione grinned ruefully. 'Mm, well the Blacks definitely had a fondness for the macabre,' she said. 'Shall we go straight up then? He's on the top floor.'

As she led them up the stairs, Luna took out a small spyglass-like device from her pocket, and proceeded to peer through it at every available surface. Hermione didn't ask. Probably Nargles, she thought in amusement. She'd long since accepted that there was an impenetrable gulf between her and the younger girl, but that didn't mean Hermione didn't have a great deal of fondness for Luna or that friendship was out of the question.

Once on the top floor landing, Hermione turned to face the pair.

'I'll go in and make sure he's ready,' she said. 'Just wait here a minute.'

She knocked purposely and Snape called her in. She was surprised when instead of in bed, as she'd expected, she found him sitting at the desk across the room. He'd showered for the occasion, she observed, noting the still-damp strands of hair that clung to his neck, and had finally shaved off that awful beard. He'd changed out of his fraying grey dressing gown; he wasn't wearing his full teaching robes, but the black trousers, dark-grey shirt, black waistcoat and cloak gave the impression of the feared professor he had been, but with an infinitely more human touch.

She wondered how many pain potions he'd had to glug in order to ready himself this morning. A quick glance at the two empty phials on the bed-side table confirmed her suspicions.

'Are you ready, sir?'

He met her eyes and gave a curt nod.

She hovered awkwardly. 'Do you, um, want me to leave during the interview? I wasn't sure what you … I don't mind either way, I just thought you might be more comfortable if I'm not—'

'You may stay,' he said softly, surprising her with his answer. She nodded, and took a moment to conjure three simple wooden chairs before popping out into the hall again.

'You can come in now.'

The two blondes entered, and she gestured for them to take the two chairs near to the desk, before she took the one next to the window.

'Hello, Professor,' said Luna dreamily. 'You look very well, considering you almost died.'

Hermione smothered her smile, and caught the glint of amusement in Snape's eyes.

'Thank you, Miss Lovegood. I shall take that as a compliment,' he said.

'Good to see you, Severus,' said Luna's father, stepping forward. 'It's been a while.'

Hermione was surprised when the blonde extended his hand, and perhaps even more surprised when Snape accepted it and returned the greeting using Mr Lovegood's first name. But then they must have been similar ages; perhaps they'd crossed paths at Hogwarts. They wouldn't have been two people she'd have pinned as friends, but then if Xenophilius had been anything like Luna at school he'd likely been as unpopular amongst his peers as Snape had been, and, well, like recognised like.

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone took their seats and settled in, though neither of the Lovegoods seemed perturbed by it. Luna was intently inspecting the wardrobe with her spyglass, while Xenophilius's silvery eyes rested on Snape's face. A glance at Snape told her he was growing visibly uncomfortable under the other man's scrutiny, and the seconds ticked by until finally Hermione could take it no more. She cleared her throat.

'Perhaps we should start with the year leading up to Dumbledore's death? About Marvolo Gaunt's ring and the curse?'

It was impossible to tell whether the look Snape gave her was one of gratitude or irritation, but he went on to answer the questions put to him thoroughly, if a little stiffly. After an explanation of the curse that had afflicted Dumbledore that year and how Snape had done all he could to slow its spreading, they moved on to Dumbledore's ultimate request of Snape. From there the professor gave his own account of what had occurred on the Astronomy Tower. After that they spoke of Snape's crucial role in foiling Voldemort's plan to capture Harry while he was transported from Little Whinging to the Burrow. Hermione listened with rapturous attention; she knew it all already of course, but hearing it from the man himself was like experiencing it for the first time. Once he'd gotten going, Snape seemed so composed, so placid, even as he recounted what must have been the most terrible year of his life. But she was growing attuned to him now, in a way she had never been before. A twitch of his jaw here, a glimmer of darkness in his eyes there … despite appearances, it all pointed to the undercurrent of torment flowing hard and fast beneath his stoic exterior.

Eventually they came to the night in the Forest of Dean when Snape had led Harry to the sword of Gryffindor.

'… once the sword was in place, I found a hiding spot nearby and cast my Patronus to fetch Potter,' Snape was saying. 'And there I remained until I was certain he had retrieved the sword and had come to no harm. I still had no idea what the sword was to be used for, of course, Dumbledore believed it best I remain ignorant on the matter. I only discovered its true purpose after the battle.'

Mr Lovegood was nodding excitedly as he took notes on a reporter's pad. 'Wonderful, marvellous,' he muttered, then looked up. 'Your Patronus takes the form of a doe, correct?'

Snape stiffened. 'I fail to see how that is relevant,' he said, his customary sneer creeping back onto his face.

Mr Lovegood looked a little taken aback at the sudden change in Snape's demeanour. 'Merely a small detail that would add flavour to the piece,' he explained.

'Well, you can leave out that small detail.'

'Of course, of course,' said Mr Lovegood, scratching out a word on his pad and looking mildly uncomfortable. 'Let's leave the sensationalism to the Prophet, shall we?'

'Indeed,' said Snape, crossing his arms defensively.

At the mention of the Prophet, Hermione flushed, remembering the lurid accusations they'd made just two days ago. At that precise moment, Mr Lovegood happened to glance across at her and must have caught the mortified look in her eye – he smiled sympathetically.

'Ah, pay no attention to what Skeeter writes,' he said. 'Rumours like that come and go every day; today's gossip rags will be lining tomorrow's kneazle litter trays.'

Hermione opened her mouth to change the topic, but Snape got in there first, apparently not missing the look of panic on her face. His eyes were narrowed, darting between Hermione and Mr Lovegood.

'Rumours? What rumours are you talking about?'

'Ah,' said Mr Lovegood. 'You don't know?' Snape raised an intimidating eyebrow. 'Well, um, the rumours are that you've … er … slipped Hermione here a love potion which is why she's defending you in public so fervently.'

A dark look of disgust passed over Snape's features. 'Charming,' he muttered. 'And you knew about this, I suppose?' He was looking straight at Hermione. She shifted in her seat, feeling her face growing hot. She nodded.

Snape turned back to Mr Lovegood. 'And people believe this tripe?'

'Well, after what happened in Diagon Alley, people began speculating and—'

'What happened in Diagon Alley?' Snape cut in coldly.

'W-well …' Mr Lovegood spluttered, with the look of a man who wished he were anywhere else at that moment, 'you mean you don't know that either?'

Snape's eyes narrowed and focused back on Hermione. 'What happened in Diagon Alley, Miss Granger?'

Panic rose in her. Why couldn't Mr Lovegood have kept his mouth shut? Unable to meet his eyes, she shook her head. 'It was nothing.'

'It made the damn Prophet, so it must have been a bit more than nothing,' he spat.

'You don't need to—'

'Tell me or …' But he came up short, let out an angry huff, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, as though remembering that without magic and his rank over her as professor there was very little he could do to threaten her. His voice lowered dangerously. 'Tell me.'

Their eyes locked for several beats. Hermione sighed, resigned.

'This awful couple started arguing with me about the posters I was putting up and it drew a bit of a crowd. One of them tore down one of the posters then another man yanked the rest from my hands and Incendiod them on the spot. I was angry – I called them all idiots and pulled my wand out. Not really my finest hour, I know, but there you go.'

A long silence followed her story; Snape continued to stare at her with inscrutable eyes while Hermione berated herself for not having told him sooner. She'd been deluded to think she could keep it from him, and now it was worse because he knew she'd deliberately concealed it. She'd liked to think she was earning his trust, at least a bit – but would she still have it after this?

At length, Snape spoke. 'This interview is at an end. I believe you have enough content to be getting on with.'

'But, sir,' Hermione objected, 'you haven't even covered—'

'Enough,' said Snape, then turned to Mr Lovegood, who had been awkwardly watching the exchange between them. 'Thank you, Xenophilius, I am grateful for your assistance.'

'Not at all,' said Mr Lovegood, rising from his seat. 'Anything I can do to help. Come, Luna.' He laid a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. Hermione, wanting to avoid Snape's gaze, rose too, and opened the door to let the father and daughter out.

Luna, who was now looking about the room through her spyglass again, gave both Hermione and Snape a dreamy smile. 'You two have been spending quite a bit of time together, haven't you?'

Hermione blinked and glanced at Snape, still scowling darkly. 'Um, yes I suppose.'

'I can tell. Your auras are tickling one another.'

'I beg your pardon?' said Snape in a bored tone.

'Just the edges. They're reaching out to each other, but they seem quite shy.' She adjusted the small spyglass, darting it between the two of them. 'It's very pretty. Would you like to see?' she said, holding the contraption out to Hermione.

'No, it's okay. Another time maybe.'

'All right,' she said with a disappointed shrug.

'Listen, Luna, why don't you and your father head to the kitchen,' she said quietly. 'Ron or someone will make you a cup of tea. I'm going to stay a minute and have a word with the professor, but I'll be down soon.'

'Okay,' said Luna, before lowering her voice to a whisper. 'Good luck.'

Hermione mouthed a thank you, then gently closed the door as Luna's blonde head disappeared down the stairs after her father. She rested her forehead against the wood, taking a moment to steady her racing thoughts before the inevitable.

'You should have told me,' came Snape's voice from behind her.

'I'm sorry,' she said, turning around. He was staring at the floorboards, his brows knitted together, his expression serious. 'I didn't want to upset you.'

'Something like this was bound to happen,' he said, almost as if he hadn't heard her. 'Journalists! Fucking parasites, the lot of them.'

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead at hearing him swear. 'Well, we know at least one "fucking parasite" who's willing to help you, so maybe don't write them all off.'

Snape shook his head. 'This entire exercise is pointless. I don't even know why I agreed to it.'

That irritated her. Ungrateful sod. 'Because you've got nothing to lose by giving it a chance, that's why.'

'And you, Granger?' He looked pointedly at her. 'Do you have nothing to lose?'

She nearly balked. He was concerned about her? That was … not what she had expected. 'You don't need to worry about me, I can get Skeeter to write a detraction.'

'Of course,' he scoffed, rolling his eyes, 'because there's nothing the mighty Hermione Granger cannot do.'

She let the comment pass. It had only been a week, but she liked to think she was getting better at letting his jibes wash over her. 'Let's just say Rita Skeeter and I have history.'

Snape said nothing for several beats; he merely looked at her with an unreadable expression. Then he said, 'You should think very carefully about whether you wish to continue with this project, Granger. An association with me is not likely to bode well for you, especially if you should ever wish to seek a career in the Ministry. Your reputation is at stake, your future. Stupid little rumours about love potions will be just the beginning.'

'I've already thought about it,' said Hermione. 'I'm not stupid, I knew something like this could happen. And I've had worse things said about me in the papers, believe me. I can handle it.'

He seemed disinclined to speak after that, so she left quietly, a heavy, sinking feeling in her stomach.

She was descending the stone steps into the basement kitchen when she heard Ron and Luna talking:

'… going to try our luck in the Auror department,' he was saying. 'Reckon we've got a pretty good chance of getting accepted even without our NEWTs.'

'That's good. Hogwarts will be strange without you or Harry there, though,' said Luna.

'We'll come visit,' said Ron brightly. 'Maybe we can all meet up in Hogsmeade from time to time.'

Hermione walked in, and on seeing her, the two looked up.

'Well,' Hermione said, sliding onto the bench besides Ron. 'That didn't go quite as badly as I'd feared.'

'He did seem rather upset at the end,' said Luna.

'It's my fault for not telling him before. I don't know why I thought he wouldn't find out.'

Ron frowned at Hermione. 'Why would he be upset? You were the one who got accosted by that mob, not him.'

'He does care about other people, Ron,' said Luna patiently.

'I'm not convinced of that,' he said. 'I mean, his turning his back on Voldemort, it was all motivated by his guilt about Harry's mum. Everything he did was. It wasn't because he cared about Harry or any of us or even the cause. He was trying to ease his own conscience.'

'We can't say that for sure,' said Hermione. 'Maybe it started off that way, but I don't think it's fair to say it was just because of Lily. Harry said that in his memories Snape seemed genuinely distressed when he spoke to Dumbledore about not being able to save people.'

'And he did help Neville and Ginny and me when he caught us trying to steal the Sword of Gryffindor,' said Luna. 'I remember thinking it was odd at the time; we were convinced he was going to have us Cruciod by the Carrows, but he sent us to Hagrid. He didn't have to do that.'

Hermione nodded. She was shocked no one had figured it out sooner actually; that incident should have been a dead giveaway. But then Snape played the part of the bastard so well, perhaps it wasn't that surprising.

'What was he like last year, Luna? As headmaster, I mean?' she asked.

Luna frowned thoughtfully. 'Mostly he just seemed lonely. He kept to his office a lot of the time. We all thought it was because he was scheming for You Know Who. He didn't really speak to anyone much unless it was to take points or give detentions.'

'Not all that different to normal, then,' said Ron. 'He always was an antisocial git.'

Hermione glared at her boyfriend. 'Ron, have a heart.'

'What? It's true!'

'He used to speak to Professor McGonagall over meals,' said Luna, as though that fact had been common knowledge. 'And Hagrid used to have him over for tea sometimes.'

Ron spluttered on his coffee, sending it spraying down the long wooden table. 'Hagrid! No, he didn't, I think we'd have known that!'

But Hermione was intrigued. 'Hagrid told you that, Luna?'

'Oh, yes. I spent quite a bit of time helping him out with a pack of newborn nifflers last year before I was abducted,' she said, as though capture by Death Eaters was as commonplace as popping down to the corner shop for a pint of milk. 'He used to go on and on about how guilty he felt that he'd shared tea with Dumbledore's murderer and never suspected a thing. I got the impression they'd been quite friendly.'

'Hagrid never told us that,' said Ron with a frown.

'Because he knew how we'd have reacted,' said Hermione, though she had just as hard a time as Ron picturing their dark, acerbic professor sitting down for tea and scones with the lovable and effusive half-giant. 'Harry in particular has never been exactly rational when it comes to Professor Snape.'

'I suppose.'

A silence descended upon the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The muffled voices of Harry and Xenophilius Lovegood could be heard coming from the drawing room, as well as the loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

'You know,' said Hermione after a few minutes, 'I really don't understand how Dumbledore could put Snape through what he did. I know he had his reasons, but it seems almost inhuman to cut a man off like that from all his allies and colleagues, to force him to live a lie. I don't know how Snape did it. I think I'd have gone mad.'

'There wasn't any other way, I guess,' said Ron.

'I don't know. Something tells me if it had been anyone else in Professor Snape's position, Dumbledore would have found a way. Snape was alone, he didn't have a family or loved ones who stood to get hurt by his betrayal.' She added at Ron's sceptical look, 'Not really hurt in a personal sense. It was very convenient for Dumbledore. I mean, could you imagine in a million years Dumbledore using your dad in a similar way?'

Ron scoffed. 'I'd have liked to see him try. He'd have had my mum to get through.'

'Exactly,' said Hermione. 'People who are alone are far easier to manipulate. Snape had no one fighting his corner for him.'

'But he has now,' said Luna. Hermione looked up into the blonde's eyes; Luna was staring at her pointedly. 'He has you.'

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't understand why those few, simple words left her so unsettled.