AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
This blasted open window was going to ruin his toupee.
Severus held his coat closer to him as the frigid lake breeze blew into the car. No matter how hard he pushed the window button, the thing wouldn't budge. There was no lever to crank, so he was at the mercy of this button that remained stuck in place. It was obvious why this car was returned to the lot so quickly.
Hermione was unfazed by the window. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the breeze, even if it was tangling the strands of her wig. When he asked if she was chilled, she said no. Instead, she felt invigorated. He'd shaken his head. She would be of little help in resolving this issue.
Perhaps if he turned up the heater the temperature would be tolerable. At least she didn't mind if he did that. Though if he turned it up too high she might open her own window, completely missing the point of the heater.
"Do I make a right or a left or a left turn onto Oak Creek Trail?" Hermione asked.
Severus glanced down at the map. Using one still make him feel like a dunderhead. Muggles needed better navigation systems, ones which didn't involve staring a a paper, wondering if one could track your location through the printer ink.
"Severus," she snapped. "Where do I turn?"
"Go left," he braced himself for the inevitable hard turn.
"Thank you," she jerked the car left onto the desired road.
He suppressed a groan as he smacked into the center console. No car would ever compensate for her lack of grace. Also, hadn't Hans shown her where the turn signals were? If so, why was she opposed to using them?
"Look, there's a drawbridge," Hermione drove onto the bridge. Unlike the road, the bridge was made of some type of reinforced steel webbing which clattered under the car's wheels. "I haven't seen one of these in years."
Severus hummed, taking note that he hadn't seen one lately either. Then again, who needed a drawbridge when one could just apparate across a river? If only muggles knew what they were missing.
"And there's our sign," Hermione grinned as she yanked the car left and pulled into a gravel parking lot.
"Indeed," he rubbed his aching arm and looked up at the concrete building. As expected, the top read, "Lakefront Brewery." Other than a few bricks shaped like castle torrents, the place was unremarkable. The view of the Milwaukee River was lovely though. Unlike the Coke River which struggled to support any type of life, ducks floated atop the blue-green water. A few seagulls honked in the distance, soaring towards Lake Michigan.
"Now, that newspaper stand should be here somewhere." Hermione removed the keys from the car.
"Indeed," Severus undid his seatbelt.
"Keep a hold of that map when we go outside."
He raised an eyebrow.
"If we get caught and someone questions us as to why we aren't going inside the building, we want a plausible story. Lost tourists sound plausible."
"I am not a big enough dunderhead to get lost," he argued.
"No, you'll just circle around town grumbling about finding the right street until you run out of gas. Then you'll complain that gas prices are too high when you fill up, and continue wandering around town until you forget where you were initially going."
He scowled, unwilling to admit how much truth was in her statement.
"Come on, I think I remember where the distortion in the picture was," she stepped out of the car and glanced around. Then, she pointed to her left. "There's the bridge where I saw it."
Without a word, Severus followed her across the parking lot.
"We can't use a location spell, so we'll have to rely on memory and perhaps sensing magic. We can't use magic to sense it, but we know the signs that magic is in the area. That should be enough to help us find it. "
"We also need to make sure this is not a trap."
She turned to him.
"Some newspaper stands require one to use magic to obtain the paper. Obviously that is not an option for us."
"No, it isn't." She turned around. "If we need magic to get the paper we might as well leave now."
"We may not have to. Sometimes squibs can access these papers. It helps them stay informed about the magical world so they can better help with reconnaissance."
"Should I be comforted by the fact you know this?"
"No," he admitted. "Yet if this is a place squibs can access, we can get the paper without issue."
"Let's hope that's the case."
"If it is not, we will scour the city until we find a way of entering the magical world without magic, even if it requires a map."
"Okay." She gave him a half grin.
After walking a few more feet, Severus noted a glimmer on the steel beam raising an overpass. It appeared as if water was hitting it, yet it remained perfectly dry.
Hermione and Severus looked at each other. "There it is."
Hands entertained, they ran to the distortion. The closer they got to it, the clearer the image became, until they saw the stand.
"So it takes being intuitive about magic to see this, but does it take magic to open it?" She asked as she dropped his hand.
"There's only one way of finding out," He raised his hand.
"Careful," she put a hand on his. "It may read your magical signature. If so, it could cause you to release magic."
"I know," he met her eyes. "Which is why you need to get to the car so you can drive away if anyone comes."
"No, I'm going to fight the aurors with you."
"How? We don't even have our wands."
"We'll find a way."
He stared at her.
"I'm not leaving you. We're going to get the paper together," she vowed.
"Nothing I say is going to convince you to go to the car, is it?"
"If you want me in the car, you'll have to carry me there. Even if you can, I have the keys, meaning I'll escape and come back to you."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a stubborn Gryffindor?"
"My faux husband tells me that all the time."
"Indeed he does," he took a deep breath, hoping with everything inside of him this was accessible to squibs. If not, he shook as he suppressed the fantasies of Hermione's fate boiled to the surface. How could he live with himself if Proudfoot was sadistic enough to kill Hermione yet allow him to live long enough to go to Azkaban?
"Are you ready?" She squeezed his hand again.
He gave her a small nod before releasing her. Then, he reached into the distortion and grabbed a paper. As quickly as he could, he pulled it out.
He grabbed Hermione and pulled her close to his chest, preparing to shield her from whatever could come their way. His heart was racing as his muscles tensed. If a muggle walked by, they would've found him quite silly for standing there, preparing to attack empty space. Severus couldn't care how foolish he appeared. Until Hermione was safe, he would be whatever fool he needed to be to keep her alive.
"I don't see anyone," she whispered.
"Neither do I." He released her.
"Do you think that means it's a paper for squibs?" She stood up straighter.
"I do." He relaxed.
She released the breath she'd been holding.
"Now, let's get this paper home so we can properly analyze it."
"Home?"
He turned to her
"You just called the hotel room home," she said.
"Yes."
She cocked her head.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's accurate enough to call our hotel room a home. It is a place we sleep at night, and the only place we take off these blasted wigs. For me, that qualifies as a home."
"I suppose," She began walking to the car. "I just always figured home was deeper than that, a place where one felt safe and was with the people they loved."
"I have spent half my life in danger, and there has been nobody I've wanted to come home to," He didn't dare tell her he wouldn't mind coming home to her every day of his life.
"Oh."
"Given those circumstances, wherever I lay my head is home." Especially if you are present.
"That makes sense." She opened the car door. "I suppose under those circumstances anywhere could be home."
"It could be." He got into the car. "Though I'd imagine you would want more out of a home than a hotel room."
"I don't know." She shut her door and turned on the ignition. "The hotel room is starting to feel more like home than my old apartment ever did."
"It is?"
"Yes," she turned the car around. "There's peace when I get into the room. I'm not yelling at you, and you aren't demanding I cook and clean."
"Why would I do that when others are so graciously doing that for us?"
"True," she gave him a smile. "I suppose I was taken aback by the terminology because in an odd way," she turned onto the street. "It feels like home to me too."
"Even if it doesn't all the conditions you laid out?"
"I think it meets the conditions I laid out quite well."
He couldn't help but give her a small half grin. Then, the wind began blowing as they crossed the bridge. His pleasantness evaporated. "This paper is going to blow everywhere if we don't get this open window sorted out."
"How do you propose we fix it without magic?"
"I don't know. Perhaps we should return this car and get one with closed windows."
"No," she argued. "This car looks amazing, and I'm comfortable driving it. There's no need to return it."
He frowned.
"You could always sit on the paper," she suggested. "That would solve our problem nicely."
"Sit on it?"
"Yes, when I had my windows down in a car I learned to either sit on the paper, or hold it tightly."
"If I sit on the paper it will become wrinkled."
"Then I suppose you'll have to hold onto it tightly."
"That will wrinkle it too."
"Then I suppose you'll have to stop being grumpy and learn to live with a wrinkled newspaper."
"Doesn't the idea of a wrinkled paper bother you?"
"Not as much as the idea of not having this car." She made a sharp turn right, still neglecting to use her turn signal.
"We were scammed into buying this car," he grumbled.
"No, I was able to talk him down from his price to one much more reasonable. Other than your window this car is amazing."
"You aren't sitting near the aforementioned window. It is far less amazing when you have the wind ruining your toupee."
"You can always sit in the back," she suggested.
"I like to know what is going on, and even in the back, that air will continue to come through," he argued.
"Then I suppose you have somewhat of a dilemma."
"Yes, one which I would like resolved sometime in the next few minutes."
"Do you have an idea for how to fix the window?"
He pursed his lips together.
"Would you like to drive?" She slammed her brakes in front of a stoplight. "I can teach you how. That way, you'll be away from the window."
"Wouldn't that be akin to the blind leading the blind?"
"I don't know. I think I'm getting good at this."
"Yes, you are so brilliant at driving you refuse to use a turn signal," he muttered.
"Nobody else is using a turn signal."
"Has it ever occurred to you that just because no other muggles use turn signals doesn't mean you shouldn't either?"
"My offer stands; if you want to learn how to drive, I can teach you, or we can switch places right now and let you try your hands at it." She accelerated once the light turned green.
"I will allow you to do the driving. You take much more pleasure in it than I do," he said.
"I think I take pleasure in almost anything more than you do."
"That's not true," he said. "You don't take pleasure in seeing your smile as much as I do."
"What?" She almost slammed the brakes again, this time with no stoplight in sight.
"You don't see yourself smile often, so it's difficult for you to take pleasure in your smile. I can though, meaning I take pleasure in it."
"You like my smile?"
"We have already established you have a beautiful smile."
"Thank you," she blushed. "I didn't know anyone found it pleasurable."
"I have mentioned it before, but I like seeing you happy, if only because there is only room on this mission for one grump. We would be thrown out of Milwaukee if we were trying to out scowl each other all day."
Hermione laughed. "No, I don't think Milwaukee could stand two grumps on the run."
"Indeed," he chuckled before she hit the brakes hard again in front of a stoplight. This time, he didn't complain. She was happy, and well on her way to clearing her name.
In that way, he felt at home.