Two butterbeers down and Hermione was finally starting to relax in the cosy light of the tavern. With Harry sat across from her it felt like old times, a fleeting moment of joy crossed her before the usual pang of pain and loss that she associated with her childhood.

"So, am I eventually going to meet this mystery researcher?" Harry asked, gesturing with his drink as he went, the foamy liquid threatening to topple over onto the table.

Harry had a way of not beating around the bush, and over the years it was something Hermione had come to appreciate.

"I'm not sure either of you would enjoy that." The words tumbled out of Hermione's lips before she had a chance to stop them, much the way Harrys drink finally splashed onto the table.

Her response was met with a quizzical eyebrow raise from the boy-who-lived. There were very few people she imagined would match this description. The real culprit never even considered as a potential option.

Harry felt Hermione closing up at his intrusion, his desperation to know and years of creative solutions prompted his next idea.
"Let's play twenty questions, see if I guess it." The grin was splitting his face at the suggestion.

Hermione laughed nearly spitting out butterbeer as she went.
"How old are you?"

"Young enough to still have a bit of fun." He retorted.
Hermione shook her head in mock defiance, then waved her hand in a motion to let him proceed.

"Does he have brown hair?"

"No."

"Does he have... ginger hair?"

Hermione shot daggers at him for that.

"Sorry, sorry, got the point. Blonde hair then?"

"No and you're going to run out of questions at this rate."

"Fine, fine, I guess black hair then?"
"Correct, well done."

Harry sat for a moment, desperately trying to think of people he knew who fit this incredibly vague description.

"So, they're a researcher…"
"Yes."
"Hey, that wasn't a question, it doesn't count." Harry protested.

Hermione rolled her eyes, hiding her chuckle behind another gulp of butterbeer.

"I'm going to take a wild stab and assume they're rather intelligent."

Hermione blushed at that one, Severus' intelligence was one of the many things that drove her attraction to him.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Harry took another swig of butterbeer.

"Do they work at the ministry?"
Hermione shook her head as she sipped her drink, she figured she'd need another one soon if he got any closer with his questions.

"Do they work in education?"

"They used to, quite a while ago now."

There was something that flickered across Hermione's eyes that Harry couldn't quite place but intrigued him. There was a thread there and he wanted to see if he could make it unravel.

"Are they the same age as us?"

Hermione began to look sheepish.

"No."

There was a very slim chance that Hermione would go for anyone younger, she'd dealt with her fair sure of immaturity in her previous marriage, and he knew she wouldn't touch anyone without a decent amount of life experience with a ten-foot pole. Before Harry could ask his next question, Hermione had gotten up to get another round. As she stood at the bar Hermione berated herself for letting it get this far.

What on earth is he going to think? They hated each other!

Somewhere inside Hermione had known it would come to this. One day she was going to have to tell people. She was torn. She desperately wanted to tell people about this incredible person she'd found. She wanted people to know that they were wrong, that they'd misjudged him, she wanted to set the world to rights for Severus Snape. On the other hand, she wanted to keep it secret. She wanted him to be hers and hers alone. She didn't want anyone to spoil this fledgling thing between them. She knew their cruelty and their judgement, they'd both suffered enough of it in their lifetimes and she wanted what they had to remain safe.

But it would feel so good to be honest with him.

Hermione turned to look at Harry as she waited for their drinks. She watched the fleck of green in his eyes, the way his hair fell over that famous scar. There were creases in his face now, lines that permanently etched his forehead. She remembered that this man was very different to the boy who had loathed their potions professor. He had grown over the years as she had, and she could trust him. As some level of calm settled in her at the thought she headed back to their booth, two drinks in hand.

"You've got five questions left." Hermione said, she was halfway through her drink as Harry groaned and drained his glass. His hands ruffled his hair back as he wracked his brains.

"So, he's done research work in the medical industry, so he has to have a speciality, does he specialise in healing?"

"No, he's proficient but that's not his specialty."

"Charms?"
"No."
"Potions?"

It took Hermione a second to respond, her throat closed up as Harry had gotten so close, she just nodded.

"Right, finally we're getting somewhere." Harry sat back as he ran through all the information he had. Older, known since Hogwarts, master at potions…

"Was he a teacher when we were at school?" Harry had it now, they both knew he did, but he wanted to draw out the game a little longer.

"Yes." Hermione's cheeks were flush again, her head was ready to panic but there was a sense of gentleness and calm in Harry's eyes, not the disgust she feared and so she relaxed a little.

"Is it Severus Snape?"

A/N Sorry for the cliff-hanger but you'll have to wait for Harry's reaction in the next update. It felt like a very nice place to end this chapter. I hope everyone is doing good, and thank you again for your continued support!