Hermione stood in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and took a deep breath before she entered. She didn't like shopping for clothes in general, and she liked it even less when she had to buy something in particular. Something like dress robes, for instance.
"Good morning, how can I help you?" Madam Malkin asked as soon as she entered.
"Good morning," Hermione answered. "I need a set of new dress robes."
"Very well. I think we will find something for you, dear" said the elderly witch, while measuring Hermione with her eyes. Hermione felt uncomfortable under that gaze. The witch left her for a moment and returned with a bright yellow set of robes with a low neckline. Hermione shook her head.
"No, no. That's way too... revealing. I am not trying to get a man, I already have one."
"It will look lovely on you, my dear. Do try it on."
"No, it isn't appropriate. I am going to a formal dinner, not some kind of students ball," she held on, silently annoyed at being called 'dear'. She amused herself by wondering whether Molly would still be called 'dear'.
"Oh, but you should have said that right away, my dear. How about..." the witch stopped talking as she put her head into a rack with robes, and came out holding a creation in dark green silk. Hermione disappeared to a changing room and put on the robes. Though it was certainly suitable, she wasn't all that convinced. The colour suited her well, but it made her think of Slytherin and Dark magic. Perhaps it wouldn't be appropriate to attend a meeting meant to stop a Dark wizard rising, while you could pass for a Dark Arts practitioner yourself. When she came out of the small room, Madam Malkin glanced once and shook her head. Again, she disappeared in the racks of robes and this time came out with a bundle of subdued bluish-grey fabric that seemed to change colour with the light. Hermione changed and she had to admit the robes suited her. The neckline showed a lot of shoulder, but nearly no décolleté. The fabric, she saw now, consisted of two layers: a dark blue layer of velvet underneath, and a thin light grey fabric over it. While the blue part had narrow sleeves and a tight skirt, the grey was wide and flowing.
"Let me see it, dear," the matron called. Hermione was now starting to get really irritated by being called 'dear' by the witch, like a first-year at Hogwarts.
"It will do," she said coolly. "I'll take it. You can send it to Stoatshead House, please."
"And the payment?" inquired Madam Malkin, not longer friendly but equally distant.
"Weasley, vault 423. Good day, madam Malkin," she answered. Without waiting for a reply, she left. She was sick of still being treated like a student, even after being married for nearly seven years.
She had a few more things to buy, but that was fairly simple. When she had bought new quills and parchment, together with some ink that changed colour to make writing more entertaining for Brian and Sean, she went to the Apothecary. She desperately needed an Analgesic Potion and a number of other supplies. A handful of kitchen herbs wouldn't go amiss either.
Her hand was already turning the doorknob when she saw she wasn't the only customer. Normally, that wouldn't have stopped her, but his form she hadn't seen for more than seven years. And yet she would have recognised it anywhere.
It was Severus Snape.
She let go of the handle and turned to lean against the wall. It had been nearly ten years since she had last seen him. For ten years she had visited Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Grimmauld Place and numerous other wizarding households, and never had she seen him. She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Hermione," he said weakly. "We shouldn't do this." She put her finger on his lips, and then replaced it by her mouth. At first, he kissed back, but then pulled away.
"No. I can't do this. It is too dangerous. There are people enough who would kill you, only to hurt me with it. You'd better go now."
She had protested, of course. She had told him she loved him, she had told him she didn't care who was after her. She had said she would rather die the following day, than live without him. It had been to no avail. You had better go now.
She opened her eyes, straightened her back and entered the Apothecary. She silently waited until Severus had placed his substantial order and commanded the man to send it to Hogwarts. When he turned around to leave, he almost walked into her. He was stunned for a moment, but she pretended not to notice.
"Professor Snape," she said politely. The man who had taken Snape's order had now left, apparently to see to the supplies.
"Miss Granger," he answered curtly.
"Mrs. Weasley," she corrected him, silently wondering whether he hadn't even heard she had married. She had expected Minerva to keep the staff a little informed.
"So you married Ronald Weasley, then?" he asked. She thought he looked a little... disappointed at that. She had spent some time in his company and even though he seldom openly displayed his emotions, usually his eyes would give away how he felt.
"No, I've been married to Percy Weasley, actually, for nearly seven years." The clerk had returned now.
"Excuse me for a moment, Professor," she said, while turning towards the counter.
"One bottle of Analgesic Potion, please," she said to the wizard. She heard Severus leave the shop. While a part of her was relieved, another part was disappointed with his leaving so soon. While she placed the rest of her order, she noticed Severus was pacing in front of the shop. She finished her business quickly and went outside.
"Well, Miss... Mrs. Weasley. I believe I had taught you sufficiently for you to be able to brew your own Analgesic Potions?" he said as soon as she had crossed the threshold.
"Of course, Professor. I only find that I lack the equipment. Not everywhere a dungeon is available," she retorted. "Some of the required ingredients had better be kept far from food, children, or pets."
"True, Mrs. Weasley. However, by chance I do have a dungeon available. If it isn't too much out of your way, you could come there and brew your potion." Before she could answer him, he Disapparated.
-^-^-
Severus tried to calm himself down. Ten years had he not seen her, and now, just as he went to Diagon Alley instead of Hogsmeade, she had business there. He had needed some of the more exotic potions ingredients, for his own private store as well as the students supplies. Besides, it was the Hogsmeade weekend, so the town would be swarmed with students, something he could well do without in his spare time. Diagon Alley had the added bonus of a well-supplied bookstore.
Just his luck, then, to walk into an ex-student while evading the current load. And not just a former student. No, of course it had to be the one student that had helped him in her seventh year, the only one who volunteered to be near him longer than strictly necessary, and the only one who came nearer than strictly necessary.
'Admit it, Severus,' he thought to himself. He had been in love with her. It had seemed she was in love with him too. And he had sent her away. She had pleaded with him to let her stay, but he had refused. Weakly, at first, as he had been dazed by her kissing him, but when he had regained his power to think he had been able to push her away.
"Loving somebody makes one vulnerable. I can't afford being vulnerable. You had better go now."
Sent her away indeed. He had phrased the sentence... no, the sentence had phrased itself so that he hadn't actually said he didn't love her. But somehow, he doubted she had heard the nuance in his words. Ten years ago.
Then the war had come. They had seen people get cursed; they had seen people die. He had been cleared, formally, but was still mistrusted. Albus Dumbledore had been cursed, had jumped in front of a curse meant for Harry Potter. He had not died; he was now in St. Mungo's, incapable of anything but the most basic human activities. In the end, the greatest wizard of the century would die the senile old man he had seemed for years. Seemed, but not been. It was deplorable to see the man who used to have such a great mind, not even being able to recognise people.
Of course, the Terrible Trio had survived without as much as a scar. Potter had married Ginny Weasley quite soon afterwards, and of course it had been a major event; half the wizarding world had been there. That had been the last time he had seen Hermione.
And now, ten years later, with all his guards down - well, at least the guards he had put up against her – he accidentally ran into her. She had hardly seemed to flinch at their meeting. Maybe she had forgotten.
That moment Severus made a decision. He would visit Albus tomorrow.