On the way, Hermione stopped briefly at Minerva's office to find out where she would be staying. After hugs and pleasantries, Minerva said, "You'll be staying in Gryffindor Tower, of course. Your rooms are near mine. Look for the portrait of Sir Cadogan on the left hand side of the second set of stairs."

"No, not Sir Cadogan. Tell me…"

"Yes, he requested the job when he found out you were coming." A mischievous glint appeared in Minerva's eye. "You can change it later, I suppose, but he so very gallantly wants to keep an eye on you."

"His is the kind of protection I really don't need. I don't have the heart to fight right now, though," she said with a chuckle. "I'm off to see my lab with Professor Snape, then I think I'll retire to my rooms until dinner."

"Good, good…come have dinner with me and Poppy later?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

Descending into the dungeons, a sense of familiar apprehension crept unbidden into her mind. There was such a past here; and not only of schoolday angst. Repressing a shudder, she rounded the door to the Potions classroom and strode across to knock on the office door. "Enter."

"Severus."

"Hermione. Well, what are you waiting for, sit down." Snape wore the characteristic Overgrown Bat mask of her childhood spent in these walls. Odd, she thought, how well I know that face and yet sometimes I can't feel as if I know him at all. "I see you made the journey in one piece." He poured some tea for the two of them, and sat back in his chair.

"Yes. I stopped in on Sirius and had lunch with him, and Remus." She could see the sneer.

"Keeping such company already. My, my."

"I will always be a friend to Harry's godfather." This really wasn't going the way she intended, not that she should have expected any less.

"How is Mr. Potter? Not that I really need to know the sordid details, of course." She could see he was struggling to be polite, an affectation she could really do without in his case.

"He's fine, busy of course. I don't see him very often but we keep in touch." Whoops, she thought. I guess that gave it away. He noted that she no longer wore a ring, and wondered to himself why he hadn't picked up on that before; then he tried to squash down the hope, and make himself not care.

"You're not together anymore?" At her shake of the head, he said with a bitter edge, "I'm not surprised. You were too good for him by half." An uncalculated risk on his part to admit this to her, and he inwardly cursed the honest statement. Snape had always thought this of the pairing, whether for his own selfish reasons he couldn't say. He refused to let himself think that far into it, and preferred to see it as his hatred of the Boy Who Lived rather than any affection for the woman at tea in his office.

"I wouldn't go that far. Did you just pay me a compliment, Severus Snape?" A teasing glint in her eye, so reminiscent of the verbal sparring they shared on many occasions in her spring of 7th year honors project, when they worked together in the dungeons alone for many hours and had managed to put up a troubled truce. He remembered this all too well. She had been in such danger, and at the time threw herself into schoolwork to avoid dealing with her pain. His part to play was to harass and goad her, to help her release the pain. The teasing rejoinders had often become a way for both of them to hide their feelings about the night Ron was killed. It was certainly an odd psychological contrivance, one that had led to an unexpected levity in their conversations while at the same time creating emotional walls. No doubt that was why she had cut herself off from him after leaving. He had expected it, though he could not deny it left a void. No one had ever been able to match his dry wit and intellect the way she could.

"I wouldn't admit to it. Now, let me show you your lab space…" and with that, the pleasantries were at a merciful end. Watching Snape struggle through politeness was almost more than she could bear; not that she enjoyed the great Evil Bat Snape, but at least the distance and coldness the Bat projected was less disconcerting.

To tell the truth, she feared slipping into any kind of relationship with Snape other than professional and distant. Their past was still something she had preferred to bury when she left Hogwarts, and she wasn't ready to visit the grave. Old patterns would die hard, of course; no one was a better match for her acid tongue, but she remembered what drove her to become so hard and sarcastic in the first place. She never really blamed him for what happened, but that didn't mean that she didn't struggle with the fact that he knew too much about her and that he punished himself constantly for it.

After an inspection of her new work area, which she grudgingly approved of and noted the care in which it had been set up and stocked, she turned to Snape and decided to try the Sneakoscope nestled in her pocket. She was convinced he was not acting under the Imperius Curse by this point; she had always had a good eye for this in her Auror days. But just for good measure, she wanted to try the direct approach.

"Harry received some intelligence about you, and I want to test the theory."

A raised eyebrow. "Ever been under the Imperius curse, Severus?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure where this was going.

"Are you now?"

"Good goddesses, woman. I really wouldn't know, would I?" No reaction from the sneakoscope.

"Can I perform a little detection charm?" At his nod, she waved her wand and the air shimmered green. "Looks like Harry's intelligence was off."

"I always said that about him."

A sudden long-repressed burst of anger shot out her mouth before she could stop it. "If I didn't know better, I would assume you were jealous!" Ugh, that was horrifying. Really smooth, Granger.

Severus was taken aback. "Hardly," he said with as much coldness as he could muster. But surreptitiously, the Sneakoscope buzzed in the pocket of her robe. Good thing she'd put a silencing charm on it.

"Oh, so you have no problem whatsoever with my relationship with Harry, then?"

"Why should I?" More buzzing. "He is an oaf and you are of no importance to me, other than as a researcher. Your personal life is hardly of any interest to me." The sneakoscope was about to jump out of her pocket, it was so active.

"Really," she said, more amused than upset now. Interesting. "Might have to ask you that again someday." Before he could retort, she casually tossed, "Well, I will be off now. Thank you for tea, and…everything."

Regaining his composure, he said, "It is nothing. We'll talk more about what I've discovered in your notes later, if you are available?"

She checked her watch. "I am going to get some rest, and have dinner with McGonagall. Meet you here at 8?"

He nodded, and she swept out of the room. Well, there was no way to really deny it to himself, even if he denied it to her. No small sense of relief had washed over him when she confirmed she was no longer seeing Potter; he knew he had heard Remus talking about it with Minerva nearly two years before, but had dismissed it at the time as a childish breakup that would have been quickly reconciled. She was still irritating, but he had to grudgingly admit that his previous fondness for her still existed. Upset with himself and the direction his thoughts were taking, he shook his head. He was going to just have to stamp it out, once and for all. What had happened…well, it was something that she should never forgive him for, and even if she did, he knew he could never forgive himself.

Crookshanks was waiting for Hermione in her room. The house elves had outdone themselves getting the room ready, and her cat was perched in the window watching the birds swoop outside. She began running the taps for a long soak in the tub, and thoughts flooded unbidden from her subconscious.

No, she told herself with some force. Don't lose your nerve now, my girl; you can cope with seeing him and being here, but don't dig up graves of feelings long buried. Neither of us will ever be able to talk to one another without the ghosts, but as long as we are strong, we'll survive. Still the memories swirled in the bath like some evil Pensieve, and for a fleeting second she wondered if Dumbledore was manipulating her mind like she knew too well he could do. She was aware of his fondness for both herself and Snape, and his inability to see the worst in either of them. She and Snape were not that kind to themselves. She knew that Albus would never enter her thoughts unbidden, however, and resigned herself to the magic that lived in Hogwarts forcing her to let her guard down and review the past before she could move into the present here. As painful as that prospect was, she knew it was something that simply had to be done.

Tearing down the mental walls would have to wait, however. She refused to let this wonderful day seeing old friends be marred by the ugliness of confusion, bitterness, and guilt…did she say that?…that lay in the past.