"Dearest Christine and Andreas,

Your letter found me well, and I understand your concerns. Unfortunately at this time, we have no developments. Your godson has taken your previous position and is providing us with updates as he is able to.

I hope you are comfortable and enjoying yourself to the best of your ability. I look forward to hearing about your lives when we next meet, although I'm unsure of when that will be.

I hear dentists make a good living in the States.

Yours,

Bumblebee."

Hermione folded the letter and let it sit on one thigh. She sipped her tea, trying to suppress the rush of anger and anxiety that filled her chest. She stared out onto the street from the bedroom balcony. The letter had reached them before Severus was awake, and since her name was on it as well, she took the liberty of reading it. And she didn't like what she read.

She could only assume that by 'godson,' he meant Draco, which made her feel both relieved and concerned. Draco was on their side, but he had been given the most dangerous job in the war. She scrubbed a hand across her face, watching as a man walked by their house with a large pitbull in a stroller. It was an interesting place, no doubt. But she felt useless here. She missed her friends and often found herself wondering what they were doing and wishing she were there to help.

There was movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see a small, brown lizard on the plant next to her. They watched each other for a moment until she reached out a hand for the tiny animal to climb onto. She brought it up close to her face, and somehow felt as though the lizard could see right into her thoughts. Footsteps behind her startled the little thing, though, and it scurried off of her hand and up the wall next to her, seeming to glare at the intruder. She looked over and smiled tight-lipped at Severus who dropped into the chair next to her.

"What's that?" He asked, nodding to the folded letter in her lap. She sighed and handed it to him, chewing her lip nervously, watching his face for a reaction. His face remained impassive. Everything but his eyes. She watched as his eyes began to glint and then burn with anger. He stood abruptly and stalked back inside. Shortly after, she heard a crash and the splintering of breaking glass from the kitchen.

-V-

"Albus has recruited another child into his ranks. A child." Severus ground out, pinning her with an angry glare when he saw her in the kitchen door. She flinched, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the door jam. If he thought of Draco as only a child, he must think of her the same way. She trained her eyes on the floor just in front of her feet. "He doesn't have it in him to do this. He'll get himself killed!" Severus was pacing the short length of the kitchen now, fists clenched his sides.

"I think Draco is intelligent enough to know how serious this role is," Hermione reasoned in a low voice. Severus rounded on her, moving quickly until they were only inches apart. He stared down at her and she could tell he felt the same way she did. Neither one of them realized the seriousness of their own roles until they'd received that letter.

"Children should not be fighting in wars," he said, his voice heavy with meaning. Finally, she met his eyes and he grimaced at the glint of hurt in them.

"Whether you like it or not," she said slowly, as if she thought he might need extra time for the words to sink in properly, "We're not children anymore. Draco, Harry, Ron, and me. We're adults now." She paused to let the words hit harder. "And no matter how much you may want to, we all have already been fighting in this war. We started when we were children, and we all have trauma from those battles." His eyes flicked momentarily to the scar that ran from her throat, down her sternum, and to her hip-most of it covered by her clothes. "We all have wounds, we all have roles we have to play." He stood frozen in front of her, breathing hard, unable to come up with the words to say. Then her eyes grew sad and she turned to walk back to the balcony.

His role now was to protect her. To make sure she was ready and able to fight when the time came. To keep them all safe until the war was over and they'd won.

Somehow this new role felt like more weight on his shoulders than spying had. He watched down the hall as Hermione settled herself back into her chair on the balcony, and a man yelled profanities outside.

-V-

The idea came to her in the shower. It came so suddenly, she gasped as though someone had physically implanted it into her mind. She rinsed her hair quickly and wrapped herself in a towel to come barreling out of the bathroom. She collided with him in the hallway and he grasped her shoulder to steady her, letting go quickly when he realized that she was only in a towel. A fact that she didn't seem to notice in her excitement. She was practically bouncing on her feet.

"What is it?" He asked, alarmed.

"Apothecary!" She gasped. He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't.

"Could you clarify?"

"Let's open an apothecary! You could sell 'potions,'" she used her fingers to form air quotes. "And herbs and talismans." He blinked at her.

"We're supposed to stay inconspicuous," he said, sounding almost like he thought she was joking. "Opening a shop catered to witches and wizards seems a bit like sticking our necks out."

"Not for the magical world," Hermione said excitedly. "For muggles!" He blinked again, willing her to continue. She huffed in frustration, stomping one small foot lightly on the ground. "As a tourist attraction! People come here for magic all the time! Think of all of the popular Voodoo shops in the Quarter. We could open our own non-descript magic shop!" He looked torn.

"I don't know, Christine, this seems risky in more ways than one."

"Of course it is," she agreed. "Opening a business comes with plenty of risks." He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"I'll think about it."

-V-

The next day, he found himself at a bank, a realtor, a library (to research what was and wasn't legal to sell in the United States,) and at his own kitchen counter while Hermione dictated the letter he was writing to Albus. She told him the words to write while he held the pen, having told him firmly that the Headmaster needed to think that it was Severus' idea rather than Hermione's. He rolled his eyes at her so many times they were beginning to ache, but she didn't seem to notice.

Once the letter was done, containing an explanation of what they-or she-intended to do, and a list of things they would need from him. She was sure to include several personal jabs toward the Headmaster that sounded like they could have come from Severus, but he was quite certain she took some satisfaction in hearing them in her own voice.

Either he'd been forgiven for their earlier conversation, or she was choosing to ignore it for the sake of civility. Either way, he was relieved to see her back to bossy Gryffindor mode, pacing beside him in the kitchen with a glass of wine in one hand. Once the letter was sealed, he turned to watch her openly. She stopped pacing and gave him a guarded look. He crossed to her wordlessly and stopped when he was close enough to feel the heat from her skin.

"I meant what I said yesterday," he told her quietly.

"Which part?" she asked

"Children shouldn't be fighting in wars." She pressed her lips together, her eyes growing defiant. His expression remained neutral as he lifted a hand to cup her cheek. She leaned into it unconsciously. "You're not a child. You may have been a veteran by the time you were a teenager, but that doesn't make any of it right. I am sorry." Her expression turned confused.

"What on earth are you sorry for?"

"I was in the first war. There are a lot of things that could have been done differently that could have made it the last war. There are a lot of things you don't know about. Things I have done, things-" She put a hand over his mouth, effectively cutting him off.

"Stop. You cannot solely blame yourself for how things have gone." She told him, her eyebrows knitted together.

"No, but you should know-" he attempted around her fingers, but she pressed a little more firmly.

"And you have plenty of time to tell me." She said firmly. "You don't need to lay it all out now. And whatever guilt you're holding onto, let it go." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I said guilt, not trauma. This entire war is not on your shoulders." She moved her hand and watched his face soften just slightly. "I know, logically, that you must have had to do some terrible things, and you've said some pretty nasty things to people that I've witnessed." He cringed outwardly, knowing she was specifically thinking about the comment he'd made about her teeth a few years ago. "But, do you know what else I know?" She was tilting her head to look him directly in the eyes, a slightly mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"What could you possibly know beyond that?"

"I've been alone with you for over a month now. All of that nastiness, all of that hostility-" she pressed herself closer until her mouth was right near his ear. He forced his breathing to be even. "It's a mask. You've been nothing but good and kind to me since we've been in this situation." Her breath on his ear almost made him groan. She moved back just slightly. "The man at the school isn't really you, is it? This is." He turned his face into hers, saw the glint in her eyes, and finally wrapped his arms around her.

"You're an insufferable woman, do you know that?" He growled, and before she had a chance to even think of a response, he buried a hand in her mess of curls and crushed his mouth to hers. His nails scratched deliciously at her scalp, and she opened her mouth in a gasp; an action he took complete advantage of and slipped his tongue between her lips. She had enough sense to put her wineglass down on the windowsill before it fell from her fingers, and then her hands were sliding up his chest. She cupped his jaw, gasping slightly when she felt her back find contact with the refrigerator door. And then his hands moved down to cup her arse, pull her more against him, and her moan went straight to his core.

"Ahem." Severus was feet away before she had time to register what had happened. She looked around, blurry-eyed and breathing heavily and saw her mum and dad standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Her mum looked amused, seemingly having decided she liked the idea of them together. For whatever reason. Her dad looked annoyed and a little embarrassed. She was sure that every ounce of blood she had was now in her face.

"We did knock," Jean said in defense. Hermione moved away from the refrigerator, daring to move closer to Severus.

"Are you going to lecture us?" She asked. Jean smiled in a knowing way that made Hermione almost want to squirm.

"No, dear. We more or less have accepted that there's something between you." Her father grunted in a way that said he didn't quite agree, but kept his thoughts to himself. Severus found himself reaching for Hermione and pulling her into his side.

"So," he said to her, trying to appear as though he'd regained his footing. However, he clearly had not. "You have news about a practice, I imagine?" Outwardly, he seemed to be calm if not a little embarrassed. But Hermione felt the anxious energy rolling off of him in waves. She scooted closer slightly.

"Yes!" Jean said, clapping her hands together. The tension was finally gone. Hermione felt Severus relax next to her, his fingers traced circles on her arm.

"We've closed on a practice for sale two blocks from here, heading toward the cemeteries."

"That's wonderful news!" Hermione said, smiling genuinely. Jean and Albert both beamed.

"It'll be nice to be back in business," Albert said, smiling a true smile for the first time since their house had burned. Hermione found herself crossing the room to hug them both.

"What about you two?" Jean said as they pulled apart.

"Well, we have spoken to a lending agent, and a realtor, and it looks like our chances are fairly high." Hermione told them with a small smile.

"Albus was surprisingly thorough with our identities. He even provided credit scores." Severus sounded less than happy to be giving the old man such praise.

"Yes, well," Albert said, another real smile spreading across his face. "Your mother and I have some more paperwork to look through. Shall we meet for brunch tomorrow?"

"Sounds lovely," Hermione said with a nod.

-V-

"Goodness, it's nearly supper time," she commented when the door had shut downstairs. When she turned back around, Severus was on her again.

"It can wait," he said against her mouth. She giggled as he pushed her backward through the apartment, never breaking the kiss, until her thighs hit the edge of the bed and she fell back onto the mattress.

He was very careful and deliberate with her then. First, he knelt to remove her sandals. And then, when his fingers reached for the button of her shorts, he met her eyes, pausing until she nodded to him. He undid the button and pulled the denim over her hips and down her thighs until he could whisk them away to the floor. He lifted himself then to hover over her, kissing her lips lightly, but she seemed to think he was moving too slowly. Fumbling for her wand on the side table, she first ensured the door downstairs was securely locked, and then with a whispered spell, they were both nude. With hardly any time to prepare himself, she pushed him by the shoulders until he was flat on his back and she was straddling him.

"Merlin, girl," he grunted; his eyes moved across her body, up until he saw the somewhat shy expression on her face. She chewed her lip in a nervous way that betrayed the confidence she had just shown. This woman who had flaunted the fact that she was experienced now watched him with anticipation. He reached up to caress her cheek and pulled her back down to press mouth to hers.

"Relax," he said, and rolled them again so he was in control.

"See?" she murmured into his neck, causing him to look down at her curiously. "I told you it was all a mask."

"Insufferable," he growled into her ear before capturing her lips again with new enthusiasm.

Gotcha.