None of the characters or situations here presented belongs to me. I'm merely borrowing them for the sole purpose of exercising my imagination and having a bit of fun.

Dear readers,

Please forgive me for my failure to update recently. I will strive to do better. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review my story. I'm glad you like it, and I will continue to update as often as possible. In one of my reviews, I got the impression that the reviewer was wondering if I know where I am going with this. Please rest assured that I have a pretty good idea about the end of this story, but it may take me awhile to get there. For now, I'm enjoying the spontaneity of the whole fanfiction process. Also, there are many days where I'm planning to write, but end up reading everyone else's stories instead. I think that's even more fun!

Thanks again, Eclectic Moone

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Two days had passed since "the incident," which was the term that Severus had adopted to describe the entire Hermione/Roxana "thing." During that time, he had accomplished nothing. His life had done a complete 180. Except instead of his dungeon rooms, he was in a posh, brightly-lit muggle apartment. Instead of his wizard robes, he was wearing - and he didn't much care for it - muggle attire.

The sunlight and the situation had left him feeling positively evil. He found that he was even missing his students, for at least they provided an easy target for the release of his anger, frustration, and general malaise. The only positives in his life were the muggle hygienic products. He had to admit this was one area where muggles excelled, especially in the area of dental hygiene.

"Blast!" I'm at it again," he reproved himself savagely. For even one spontaneous thought which involved the word "dental" always reminded him of Hermione, and the fact that she had all but disappeared from his life in a very short period of time. "Idiot! She's not in your life," he chastised himself maliciously. "She's just another student whose immaturity is exacerbating its ever-present, student pain in my arse."

Even one brief reflection on oral hygiene could get him started on - what he termed - a shameful thought spiral. He would be reminded that her parents were dentists, and her parents inevitably brought her to mind. However, the most disturbing consequence about these too intimate thoughts was the indisputable fact that he was hungry to know more about her. He was curious about the facts that could fill in the missing gaps of time when she was away from Hogwarts. Although the information had been mentioned amongst the school staff, he had never been interested enough to listen, much to his present regret.

He wanted to know about her childhood as a witch in the muggle world. "When did her parents realize she was not like other children? How did they figure it out? Were there non-muggle relatives who explained it to them? Or, was the Hogwarts letter as much as surprise to her as it was to Potter?" These were the kinds of questions that were beginning to bedevil him with increasing consistency.

"Damn her parents! And damn her for reintroducing the word remorse into my vocabulary! Damn her for making me admit it!"

The Hermione induced remorse was the hardest thing for him to face up to. His plan to chase her away had worked, but it hadn't occurred to him until it was too late that her absence would leave a void. In particular, he felt homesick for the intellectual stimulation of their shared world. He missed his potions work.

In his opinion, there was nothing in this foreign existence that was suitable for solitary reflection and relaxation. The culture and pace were too frenetic outside, and he did not enjoy being alone in the apartment with nothing familiar to occupy his mind. Although this explained his lamentable tendency to reflect on Hermione, it did nothing to alleviate his inability to simply entertain himself.

While his active brain was open to dissecting new experiences, he required someone to fill in the abundance of missing information. Hermione was the only one he knew with the personal experience and intellectual ability to help him process this adventure from both the muggle and wizard perspectives.

Even Dumbledore could not personally address the muggle-born experience. Then, of course, there was always Potter. But he could barely tolerate the thought of him, let alone spending time talking to him. Besides, while Potter was a powerful wizard, his intellectual talents were somewhat dim. He was no Hermione. Even, Potter admitted that he owed much of his success to her.

The only other person he'd met was Roxana, whose mental capacity was limited to a degree he couldn't even begin to comprehend. "Besides, she irritates me almost as much as Potter."

Since Hermione's defection, he had been reading muggle books from the library in their new home. Some of them were considered classics that even the most bigoted wizard had heard of at some time or another. But reading required discussing, and he desperately wanted to hear her views.

He had figured out how to enervate the picture box in his bedroom. Although, it had too many attachments and buttons, so he kept it on whatever appeared when it came alive. Fortunately, this was something that muggles evidently referred to as "CNN News," which was very enlightening. However, he found that he needed Hermione's knowledge of the historical context behind many of the stories presented.

For the first time in his adult life, he found himself regretting his former distaste for muggle studies. Had he paid more attention and respect to the subject, the somewhat humiliating need for her company would have been less acute.

He had only seen her once or twice since the "incident." And while she wasn't hostile towards him, her pleasantly detached conversation was an enigma to him. He had no idea how to break through her shield of platitudes and polite questions about the weather. Additionally, his previous relationships with women had never involved conflict to the level it had reached with her.

It was impossible for him to treat her condescendingly. Unfortunately, he had permanently removed that option their first full day together. Neither their situation, nor their relationship could accommodate their former student teacher dynamic. He couldn't simply ignore her either, because she always spoke to him first. And he absolutely refused to take refuge in his room. He had too much self-respect to begin hiding from and eighteen-year- old girl/woman. Instead he found himself responding in kind to her, and dreading the click of either the front door, or her bedroom door closing behind her before he could get up the courage to address their situation.

"Maybe she decided that the developing relationship between us was not to her taste," he would wonder with a twinge of panic. This thought, which frequented his brainwaves more often than he liked, left him feeling extremely uncomfortable, so he changed the subject in his head each time it came up. Furthermore, he the thought would cross his mind without his noticing his own use of the word "relationship."

For Severus Snape, the concept of "in denial" was anathema to his personality. He'd always faced life straight on, and made choices without fear of retribution or harm. It was these very characteristics that enabled him to successfully live the double life of Deatheater and spy.

"Damn it, I want to clear up this ridiculousness once and for all. We need to make better use of our time here. If we worked together, we could use this time to benefit our world instead of further eroding an already disagreeable association."

The thought was still actively playing in his mind when he heard the click of her key in the front door. A burst of adrenaline shot through his upper torso and escaped upward through his head. "Get a grip man," he muttered to himself in disgust. But the feeling didn't dissipate. Instead, it began to escalate until he could actually feel the beating of his heart. For Hermione had indeed returned home.....

But this time, she was not alone.