A/N: Please, please, review! I hate to beg, but I'd like to know if anyone actually likes this story, and whether it's worth it to continue, as this is very much a work in progress.

The next morning Harry awoke to furious rapping at his front door. Bleary eyed, he threw on a crumpled t-shirt and some worn jeans he found on his bedroom floor, and then stumbled downstairs. Ron was waiting for him with his face pressed up against the sitting room window, grinning sheepishly. In the background Harry was sure he heard Hermione's familiar nagging.

Yawning and feeling slightly disgruntled, Harry threw open door.

"Can't a man sleep?" He complained, looking over his shoulder to the clock on the mantle. "It's not even nine o'clock yet."

Ron stepped inside, his nose red from the early morning chill. Sheepishly he offered Harry an apologetic shrug, and threw himself down onto an old plaid armchair that Harry had taken from Grimmuald Place. Hermione followed him inside, glowering at the back of Ron's head.

"I can't believe you forgot to tell him." Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, sitting down across from Ron and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Hermione glowered again at Ron, who reddened slightly. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes, because he had the vague feeling that his best friend had messed up again.

"I made an appointment for you and Ron to get fitted for your dress robes today." Hermione said in hiss, her words clearly directed at her future husband. "Madam Malkin had them ordered especially, and now we're going to be late. Ifshe can't squeeze us in anyway I don't know what I'm going to do. The groom and the best man have to have dress robes, and there isn't going to be any other time..."

"Let's go then." Harry said, eager to derail Hermione before she got really angry.

He jumped up out of his seat, and ran into the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and deciding his hair was a lost cause, he quickly threw on his sneakers and a jacket and met Hermione and Ron outside.

They were standing a few feet apart, both looking extremely sour. Harry had hoped to spend a relaxing day at home, though he suddenly realized that wasn't going to be case.

---

"If she sticks me with a needle one more time." Ron said under his breath, standing on a wooden stool with his arms spread out like a scarecrow's.

Madam Malkin was busy hovering around his feet, pining the hem of Ron's new dress robes, which Harry was sure was too short to begin with.

"Maybe she's going blind." Harry whispered back, glad that he had volunteered to go first.

At least he had gotten it over with. Hermione looked up from the corner, where she was sittingon a over stuffed chair pouring over a dog-eared issue of Witches Bridal Monthly. It had taken Harry some time to get used to the fact that Hermione and Ron were actually going to be married, and he had to admit that the flurry of activity and anxiety surrounding the wedding hadn't exactly endeared him to the idea.

"Ow!" Ron exclaimed, struggling not to lose his balance. "That went straight through to my ankle!"

Hermione looked up, and then shoved the magazine into her oversized hand bag. Harry could see a small smile hiding on the edges of her lips, and he was sure she was getting some sort of pleasure out of watching Ron suffer.

"No, no... Madam Malkin." Hermione said, crossing the room to join them. "That hem is much too short. I'm sorry, I meant to tell you to take it out."

"You could have said something earlier." Ron huffed at her. "How much longer is this going to take anyway?"

"Long enough." Hermione said, in a teasing tone. "Harry and I will be back in a half-hour or so, you should be done then."

Harry jerked his head up, ready to jump at the opportunity to get out of the stuffy shop.

"You're not really going to leave me, are you?" Ron asked, almost anxiously.

"Sure we are." Harry responded happily, grinning at Ron as he followed Hermione out onto the busy street.

It was one of those rare beautiful days right before autumn turns to winter, when the air is crisp without being cold, and even in the city you can still catch a hint of the rich scent of burning leaves. Many witches and wizards were out enjoying what might be one of these last beautiful days of fall, and Diagon Alley was awash with people.

"How about we let Ron stew for a while." Hermione said, smiling. "Let's go get some hot cider."

In the spot where Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor had once stood, a trendy new café had sprung up. It was nearly bursting with people, though Harry and Hermione managed to find a table out on the sidewalk. While they were waiting for their waitress to come, Harry stared out at the crowds passing by.

It didn't happen often, but every now and then he would see a familiar face from Hogwarts. Only yesterday morning he had seen Neville in the ministry lobby, pushing his grandmother past in a wheelchair. A day or two before that he had run into a very pregnant Lavender Brown, whose husband had been training to be an auror along with Harry.

Though something else caught his eye today. Squinting through the crowds milling in front of the café and strolling by, he could see a familiar poster pasted on a brick wall, apparently long ago forgotten. It was torn and faded with age, though Harry still felt his stomach drop at the sight. Severus Snape( the poster read, above a picture of the sneering former Hogwarts professor) Known Death Eater, wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. 1000 Galleon reward for any information leading to his capture.

Harry snorted. Those posters had been worthless. No one had seen Snape since Dumbledore's murder, at least no one who was talking or alive to tell the tale. Next to defeating Voldemort, bringing Snape to justice had been Harry's greatest ambition. As time passed, and the search became ever more fruitless, Harry had reluctantly given in to the fact that Snape was either dead, or might never be captured. Still, reminders like these stung in a way he couldn't describe. Letting Snape get away had been his only great failure, and it wasn't easy to cope with.

"Would likea pumpkin pasty?" Hermione said cheerfully, obliviously to sudden plunge Harry's move had taken."I know you didn't have any breakfast."

"No." Harry said flatly, staring into the poster's dark black eyes. "I'm not really hungry anymore."

After they had eaten Harry let Hermione walk ahead of him, and then quickly darted across the street. Without really knowing why, he peeled the poster off the wall, and then folded it and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He ran to catch up to Hermione, feeling very much like a child who had barely avoiding being caught doing something bad.

"Do you want to come with us to put the final touches of the flowers?" Hermione asked, as soon as they caught up with a scowling Ron. "It's a very nice muggle florist, and its only just a short ride on the underground from here..."

"No, I'd better get back." Harry said quickly. "I promised Mrs. Lloyd that I would help her degnome her garden."

Mrs. Lloyd was his elderly landlord, who lived in a big house just down the road from his own. She had met his parents, though only briefly, and had taken a particular liking to Harry. It wasn't strange for him to come home from a long day of auror training and find her waiting on his doorstep with a hot meal and a fresh slice of pie.

"Lucky you." Ron said tartly. "Don't forget about dinner, alright? Mum said to tell you we're eating at six, but I think Fred and George are coming early..."

"And Fleur and Bill are bringing the baby, and I know you haven't seen them in months, and Tonks and Lupin are coming too." Hermione piped in, giving Harry a warm hug. "So don't be late!"

Thinking that he didn't what he would do without Ron's family to call his own, Harry quickly said his goodbyes, and then apperated back home.

---

With a soft pop Harry found himself in his front yard, an odd feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach. For some reason he didn't think he could face the lonely quiet of his small cottage, even though it was something he usually enjoyed. Instead of going inside, he turned around and walked down the road to Mrs. Lloyd's.

Her plump gray cat was resting in the sun beside her front porch, and lazily followed Harry with her eyes as he ran up and knocked loudly on the door. Mrs. Lloyd was a bit deaf, and sometimes it could take her ages to answer the door. After a few minutes Harry knocked again, and then peered into the front window. The fireplace in the parlor was empty. For some odd reason Mrs. Lloyd always had a fire going, even in the summer. The only time she let it die was when she was out.

Frowning, Harry sat down on her front step. He really didn't want to go home, and even though he was almost sure of where Mrs. Lloyd was, he was less positive if she would want company. Deciding that he might as well take a chance, Harry jumped up and then walked the familiar road up to the town graveyard.

Mr. Augustus Lloyd, her husband, was buried very close to Harry's parents. He had often seen her there tending to his grave, and he knew that during the weeks that he was busy, she watched over his parents graves as well. He was thankful, but he wasn't sure if this meant it was okay to interrupt her during such a private time, secretly wondering if she talked to her husband the same way she talked to his parents.

Sure enough, he found Mrs. Lloyd weeding the grass around her husband's headstone. She gave him a friendly smile, which Harry returned in relief. Giving her some space, he walked over to where his parents had been laid to rest. To his surprise there were fresh flowers resting on his mother's headstone. Mrs. Lloyd must have left them, he had better remember to thank her...

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Mrs. Lloyd said, clapping the excess dirt off of her hands and coming to stand beside Harry. "Would you like to come by for some tea, we can drink it out under that beautiful oak tree in my garden."

Harry nodded, glad for the invitation. Tea with Mrs. Lloyd could take hours, and though he didn't always enjoy it, right now he was sure he needed the company.

"I'd like that." Harry said. "Thanks for the flowers, by the way."

"Flowers?" She responded, squinting in confusion.

Harry pointed at the roses on his mother's grave, and she titled her head back and laughed.

"Oh no, dear. I didn't leave those." She said. "I never liked roses much. A man came and left them early this morning. I was walking past, on my morning constitutional, and I saw him through the fence."

"Must have been my friend Remus." He said, wondering what had prompted him to visit his mother's grave without Harry. "He likes to visit my Mum and Dad sometimes."

Mrs. Lloyd shook her head slowly, like she was struggling to remember something.

"I've met Remus haven't I?" She said, a haziness to her voice. "Yes, at your cottage on New Years Day."

"Yeah." Harry said with surprise. "You did. I nearly forgot about that."

"He's a charming man." Mrs. Lloyd said, smiling. "But the man here this morning wasn't him. He looked a little younger. I've seen him here several times in fact."

Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion. Who in the world would be visiting his mother's grave? He bent down to pick up the bushel of roses, hoping they would leave him some clue. As the leaned over the poster he had tucked in his jacket fell out. With surprising speed Mrs. Lloyd reached down, and picked it up for him. While he examined the flowers, which were nothing more than flowers of course, Mrs. Lloyd unfolded the poster.

"Well, isn't that odd." She said, clucking her tongue. "This here, this is very man we were just discussing."

"Where?" Harry said, looking around, before he realized that Mrs. Lloyd was talking about the poster.

Harry felt like his stomach had gone crashing to the ground. His was heart was suddenly beating a such a furious pace he was sure it was going to burst straight through his chest at any moment.

"Are you...I mean...are you sure?" Harry stammered.

Mrs. Lloyd nodded, apparently unaware of his distress.

"Yes, I'm positive." She insisted. "Only he's got a few streaks of gray in his hair now, I noticed that."

Harry staggered a few steps, and then leaned against the ivy covered walls of an old mausoleum for support. Why? Why would Snape be visiting his mother's grave, expect to taunt Harry? Were these flowers some sort of a message?

He was holding them tightly in his hands that most of the stems were broken, and many of the delicate petals were crushed.

"Can we have tea another day, Mrs. Lloyd?" Harry said, staring down at the blood red petals. "Something very important has just come up."

With shaking hands he took the poster from her, and then silently walked towards the cemetery gate as Mrs. Lloyd looked on curiously. As soon as stepped onto the road he apperated, leavingnothing but afew rose petals fluttering down to the ground in his wake.