A/N: Dedicated to the ever-lovely and patient RayHambson, for whom I have the honour of beta-ing for at the moment, and who gave me a gentle verbal prod recently to carry on with my own writing since my creative juices dried up somewhat lately. Please do go and check out her work!

This fic was already half started, like many more stories, snippets and prompts that currently litter my hard drive, but it gave me the impetus to crack on and make the end of this into something resembling a finished work. And also line up a potential avenue for continuation, although I genuinely have no real idea where to take it. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears!

Fancy Meeting You Here

One late summer afternoon, following a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, a handful of the Order members lingered on and a few of the other younger residents of Grimmauld Place made their way back into the kitchen, no longer barred now proceedings were over. Albus Dumbledore was one of the lingerers, and he approached Hermione with a warm and kindly smile, cup of tea in hand.

'Ah, Miss Granger, good evening.'

'Hello, Professor.' Hermione inclined her head politely towards the venerable wizard.

'Molly's rock cakes are rather superb, don't you think? Almost as good as Hagrid's!' His ice-blue eyes gave a twinkle as he nodded in the direction of a plate of Mrs Weasley's post-meeting refreshments, a huge variety of which were spread across the kitchen table.

'Oh, yes. Lovely.'

'Are you looking forward to the start of the new term?' he enquired genially.

'Yes, sir.' She didn't feel the need to lie to him as she might have done with her friends - she knew the headmaster wasn't mocking her studious nature, and in fact shared her passion for academia.

'Might I ask,' he continued, 'how are things with you? Generally? I confess I do feel rather bad that I end up talking so much with Harry, and yet you and Mr Weasley who accompany him so faithfully on his... misadventures... I have scarcely managed to take the time to speak with you over the years.' His tone was light, but something in his expression made Hermione think that perhaps there was an undercurrent of real concern in his words.

'Oh, that's alright sir, I understand. It's much more important that you're able to help Harry and share information with him.' Dumbledore looked almost wistful at her comment.

'Very kind, Miss Granger.' He coughed gently and patted his beard. 'I hope you won't mind indulging an old man his curiosity, but I notice you spend an inordinate amount of time with Mister Potter. Oh I'm sure you have other friends as well of course, but forgive my asking - are you and he...?'

Hermione blushed red, looking furtively around to see whether Harry was in the vicinity, but there was no sign of him at that moment. No doubt he was off trying to press Remus and Sirius for information from the meeting.

'Oh! No, sir! Not like that. We're friends. Good friends. He's very sweet, but...' She trailed off, either unable or unwilling to give a reason why the great Harry Potter wasn't her type.

Dumbledore looked mildly amused. 'I understand. You have your eye on someone else perhaps? Mister Weasley? He's always seemed rather keen on you too. Although I thought I overheard Arthur say earlier that Ronald and Miss Brown were an item?'

'Yes, Ron's going out with Lavender.' Hermione smiled politely but blandly at the headmaster, trying and hoping fervently to avoid any further interrogation on her love life, whilst trying not to look like she was.

She felt no ill-will towards the pair of fellow Gryffindors. While she had briefly mused about whether Ron might ask her out, Hermione realised that would actually have been the worst possible thing for their friendship. While she was very fond of him, enjoyed his company, and had been flattered by the idea that he might've fancied her, given all the little signs he'd shown over the years, deep down she didn't really think that the pair of them were that well-suited as a couple, long-term. Their friendship had stalled several times over their years at Hogwarts as it was, and she thought that adding a romantic element to it would have been an emotional disaster. So yes, Lavender was welcome to him. For quite a while, Hermione Granger's eye had been on someone else entirely anyway. Someone who couldn't be less like Ronald Weasley if he tried!

Dumbledore smiled politely back at her, sipping at his tea, clearly waiting for her to elaborate on the conversation. After an awkward few seconds that he seemed not to be bothered by, the headmaster added almost casually, 'Someone more studious, perhaps? More... serious? Neville Longbottom seems to be proving himself a capable young man despite his initial lack of confidence. Or I believe you kept in touch with Mister Krum after the Triwizard Tournament?' The blue eyes twinkled again, as he pondered over who might have shown themselves exceptional enough to have caught Hermione Granger's attention.

'Yes, sir. I mean- no! Not Neville. Or Viktor.' She wondered how on earth a busy man such as Dumbledore managed to keep tabs on minutiae like casual correspondence between students he was barely acquainted with, but decided she'd rather not know. 'We're just friends. I'm just friends with them both. But yes, I suppose I'm definitely more interested in a wizard who takes himself more seriously. I would be interested. Theoretically.' She blushed, in a way that suggested she probably wasn't quite telling him everything.

'Forgive my prying. I remember what it was like to be a student once. In fact I believe I had a similarly excruciating conversation with Professor Dippet in my sixth year.' Dumbledore chuckled, reminiscing.

Just then a very tall, thin wizard in sweeping black robes strode purposefully past them, halting momentarily at the last second as he reached Dumbledore, and nodding curtly.

'Albus.'

'Ah, Severus! Thank you for that enlightening report on Lord Voldemort's recent activities in Albania - vital stuff. Don't know what I'd do without you, my boy!' Dumbledore clapped Snape on the back jovially, either not noticing - or not caring about - the revolted glare the Potions master shot him in response to this breach of his personal space. His glare swivelled to rest on Hermione, as if it were somehow her fault that his employer was assaulting him. With an imperious sniff, he resumed his sweeping stride and disappeared out of the kitchen. A few moments later the front door banged, and Dumbledore beamed, seemingly oblivious. 'Marvellous boy, Severus. So very talented... It's a shame about the nose - not that I can talk!' He gestured vaguely to his own crooked appendage.

Hermione smiled awkwardly at the headmaster, reaching over to the table to pick up a rock cake and starting to nibble at it with a sort of nervous intensity.

'Now let's see... who were we saying you were interested in again?' Dumbledore stroked at his beard thoughtfully. Hermione's eyes darted quickly up towards the kitchen door where Snape had just moodily departed, and quickly away again. She took another anxious bite of cake.

Dumbledore's expression was passive but he observed her shrewdly, his gaze following the direction her own had taken before alighting on her face, which if he wasn't mistaken had turned very slightly pink, and she had a peculiar glazed expression, like someone who had just drawn a winning hand at poker, and wasn't very good at hiding it.

'Severus?' he murmured almost to himself. 'Well... A little surprising I'll admit, but perhaps not as peculiar a choice as one might imagine.' He cast an eye over the intellectual Muggle-born girl stood in front of him, who was struck dumb, neither leaping to confirm nor deny his suspicions. 'Actually in my not-so-humble opinion, the two of you might have made rather a complementary pairing, under different circumstances perhaps.'

Just as Hermione's mouth started to gape, and she began to come to her senses and protest and tell him that no, of course she didn't fancy Professor Snape, and she was sure he was perfectly nice and everything but she was too young and he'd never look at her in that way, and that she definitely wouldn't want him to even if he did, the headmaster stopped her with another piercing look.

'Dark times lie ahead, Miss Granger. He is a troubled man. Whilst I don't doubt your intentions, I must please ask that you not complicate Severus' life any further than it already is.' Hermione furrowed her brow at this slightly cryptic statement, her mind racing as to what specifically might be troubling the perpetually brooding Potions professor.

Considering all that had befallen Severus Snape over the previous few years, the situation must be serious indeed to be vexing Professor Dumbledore! He had at various times seen his employee bitten by a giant dog, knocked unconscious by students (including her, she remembered shamefully), set on fire (again, by her), and attacked by a werewolf. Now that he was fraternising regularly with Death Eaters and their allies in his role as double agent, who knew what horrors awaited him? She let out an involuntary shiver on Snape's behalf. His sarcastic humour and razor-sharp wit had first piqued her interest in him, and his enigmatic dourness had only served to heighten her intrigue. Various instances of undeniable bravery and selflessness, if not outright gallantry, had cemented his place in Hermione's affections over time. Perhaps he wasn't the kindest man to ever walk the earth. Perhaps he wasn't the most classically handsome, nor the most even-tempered. But he was interesting. And she was interested. But she feigned a weak nod towards the headmaster, acknowledging his advice, such as it was. Although like Harry often did, now she had been told explicitly not to do something, she felt more inclined than ever to poke and prod and push further to satisfy her curiosity about the situation.

His warning words imparted, Professor Dumbledore shot her another warm but firm smile, before glancing over her shoulder. 'Ah, Molly! I was just saying to Miss Granger how delicious your rock cakes were! You must give me the recipe some time...' And with that, he patted Hermione on the arm absent-mindedly and glided off in the direction of the Weasley matriarch, carrying his teacup and saucer.

Hermione swallowed down the last mouthful of cake and looked thoughtfully back out of the kitchen towards the front door, the echo of the bang as it had swung shut behind Severus Snape ringing in her ears. She knew it'd never have happened in reality, but she suddenly wished she'd followed him. Gone with him, asked him what was the matter. Asked him about Albania, even - anything just to listen to him talk in that smooth, strangely hypnotic voice of his. But he'd have looked down his nose at her, wouldn't he? Told her to go home to her Muggle mother and father. Sneered at her and disparaged her for getting ideas above her station, and that she should let the grown-ups worry about what was going on in the world, wouldn't he. Wouldn't he?

Perhaps she would let things lie for the meantime though; let things play out without asking too many questions or chiming in with her opinions. But she'd keep a keen eye on everything that went on around her. While she might not be a member of the Order yet, knowledge was power, especially in the wizarding world, and Hermione Granger had no intention of being caught unawares when the conflict with Voldemort inevitably came to a head. If, as Dumbledore said, it was true that Snape's life was going to become more complicated, then she was going to do her very best to make sure that she was in a position to help out should she need to, and if she managed to gain an iota of his respect along the way, so much the better...