a/n - Thank you all for the early reviews. I will try to get Chapter 3 finished soon. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

As Snape walked into the light of the street accompanied by Hermione, he hoped that none of his "clients" would seek him out. He would certainly rather avoid that explanation.

Realizing that he had wished for the company, he couldn't help but want to get away. He battled those feelings the entire journey to the café. Several feasible excuses came to mind, but he decided to try to endure the inconvenience. It was coffee with an intelligent person, which was better than bourbon alone.

"What would you like?" Snape asked as they reached the small coffee shop.

"Oh," Hermione said, "just coffee, with a little milk foam on top, if they have it. Thank you."

He motioned for her to sit at one of the tables outside, and then went in to get their drinks. Returning shortly with two coffees, he took the seat on her right at the small round table.

After a few moments passed into silence, Snape said, "I'm surprised, I would have thought you the sugary type."

She laughed tensely, "That defeats the purpose of coffee. Ron takes his with as much sugar as the cup will hold. I keep telling him that he's going to rot his teeth, but he refuses to listen."

"You are still with the Weasley boy?" Snape asked, more to sustain the conversation than out of curiosity.

"Yes," she answered with a smirk, "as if you care."

Taken back by her perception, Snape said, "You brought him up."

"Yes I did," she replied assertively, "because I'm inclined to ramble."

"Nothing has changed, then?" he asked dryly.

She smiled as she said, "I guess not, except that now I ramble about unintelligent things that are of little concern to anyone other than me."

Snape allowed himself to chuckle very lightly, "I see that hasn't changed either."

Laughing, Hermione said, "At least we're both still comfortably the same. Imagine my surprise if you had become all warm and fuzzy since moving here."

Choking at the thought of a possible warm and fuzzy self, Snape nearly inhaled his coffee. Hermione giggled as he collected himself.

"So, have you any new friends in the area?" she asked.

Furrowing his brow, Snape answered, "I have never been much for socializing."

"Me neither," she replied as she stared at her nearly empty cup. "Ron wants to go out every Friday night to Diagon Alley, but I would rather stay home, or go visit Harry. Ron says I'll never have any other friends if I don't get out more. But I don't really want any more friends."

She looked up and smiled. Snape was watching her with his brows raised, trying desperately not to smile.

"I was rambling again, wasn't I?" Hermione asked.

Snape slowly nodded his head while the smile played at his lips.

"Professor," she said teasingly, "might you be smiling under there somewhere?"

He shook his head slightly. He couldn't believe it, but he was enjoying this.

"Are you sure?" she asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow. "You seem a bit twitchy."

Snape cleared his throat, "It's just that, well." He knew if he said it aloud, he was going to laugh. At last, the laugh won out, making Snape wonder when it was that he had found anything so comical.

"What is it?" she asked, now giggling herself.

"Foam," he said softly. "You have foam on your nose."

"What!" she exclaimed as her hand shot up to her face. "Did I get it?"

"No," Snape chuckled as he reached out and wiped away the last remaining bit with his napkin. He added, "There, now perhaps I can focus."

Hermione looked up at him with a shy smile. "How long was it there?" she asked.

"Somewhere around the part about warm and fuzzy," he answered still chuckling gently. "Anyway," he said, "you were going to catch me up?"

"Yes," she said, "I don't know where to start." Staring out into the street, she was obviously collecting her thoughts. "Oh," she suddenly said, "Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater were married in August. Percy is still at the Ministry, and he wanted to postpone the wedding until he got a certain promotion, but Penelope was in the family way, if you know what I mean."

Snape nodded his understanding of the euphemism.

She continued, "Bill is doing well, still working a desk job at the Ministry. Fleur was working part-time at St. Mungo's until she had the baby, another boy. They named him Percival, after Dumbledore."

Snape cringed at the sound of the man's name.

"I know," she said, apparently seeing his discomfort. "There was a reason why it was one of his middle names." She paused for a second, "Since the Ministry passed the Equal Employment for Humans, Half-Humans, and Subspecies Act, Lupin has been with Flourish and Blotts. Tonks has been relegated to a desk job in the Auror office now that they're expecting their first child."

This knowledge stole Snape from his thoughts of Dumbledore. "That poor child," he said.

Hermione giggled before saying, "I've researched it a bit for them. It's very unlikely that the werewolf curse will pass along to the fetus, but--" she suddenly stopped talking, looking at Snape with embarrassment in her eyes. "You probably already knew that."

He nodded slowly, "I was referring to having Lupin and Tonks as parents. One is dangerous once a month and the other is dangerous all year round. She'll drop the child on its head a dozen times before it's old enough to run away."

To Snape's surprise, Hermione actually laughed at his comment.

She was still laughing as she said, "Lupin expressed the same concern. He said that he was considering coating the house in foam rubber, at least until the baby is quick enough to take cover from its mother."

Snape allowed himself another chuckle, saying, "I don't know which is scarier, the fact that Remus Lupin said something witty, or that we had a similar thought."

"Ron is almost finished with Auror training," she continued. "Ginny has been working for The Daily Prophet as an Entertainment Editor. Fred and George have been unbelievable successful with their business. They have six stores now."

"Isn't there one more Weasley child?" Snape asked.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "Charlie is back in Romania. He couldn't resist the call of the Norwegian Ridgeback."

"How about Arthur and Molly?" Snape prompted.

"They're well," she answered. "Mr. Weasley has been busy since his latest promotion, but since the war ended everyone is much more at ease."

Snape nodded slowly, wishing he could say as much.

Hermione must have sensed something amiss, "I know I gave you Harry's message, but I feel like I should apologize as well. I am sorry that I didn't trust you."

Snape nodded again as he said, "That is all in the past now. Thankfully, life doesn't stand still."

"Even so," she said softly, "I want you to know."

Snape chuckled in a casual fashion, wishing to steer the conversation elsewhere. He said hurriedly, "You freed me, so all is forgiven." He cleared his throat before adding, "I appear to be running low, how about you?" he asked.

Laughing, Hermione stood from the table as she said, "Let me get this round."

"But what will Mr. Weasley think?" he asked in jest.

"He never has to know," she answered with a smirk before she took his cup and went into the café.

Finding himself alone, he reflected on his chance meeting with Miss Granger. She hadn't changed much since he had seen her last, which had been at his first trial. Her hair was more elegant than it was that day. This evening, she had it pulled back into a graceful twist, giving her the look of aristocracy. Basic robes in cobalt blue did little to accentuate her figure. He chastised himself for thinking of her in that way. She was not simply any woman on the street.

Just then, Hermione sat his fresh coffee down, startling him.

"Sorry," she giggled, "I didn't mean to sneak up behind you again."

"I was merely lost in thought," Snape explained.

"About what?" she asked innocently.

Unable to tell her what had actually been going through his mind at the time, he lied, "I was thinking about Potter."

Hermione's face became solemn as she said in a clinical voice, "We have managed to slow the atrophy of his muscles, but nothing seems to stop it. Absolutely nothing we've done has improved his lung function--they're still degrading rapidly. If a treatment isn't found soon, I'm afraid it's only a matter of time."

"You have tried henbane?" Snape asked.

"Months ago," she replied, "As well as mugwort, juniper, and even nightshade, but nothing helps." She sighed before continuing, "They have him taking infusions of willow, cyclamen, and white bryony daily."

"That is an enormous amount of pain therapy," Snape observed.

"Harry needs it," she said, "or the pain is unbearable. He has been on a valerian treatment for the last couple of weeks, but it hasn't shown any signs of working."

Snape thought for a moment, "Do you have any idea what spells Voldemort used?"

"No," Hermione answered. Irritation was edging into her voice as she said, "Harry was quite busy trying not to be killed to hear what Voldemort was saying."

"I meant nothing by it," Snape said softly.

"I know," she sighed. "It's been so difficult to watch Harry get weaker everyday. It's been over a year, and I know sometimes he'd be happier to--"

"To die," Snape finished for her.

Hermione nodded. "Did you know that Harry turned twenty the day that you were released from prison?"

Snape shook his head no.

"He said that it was the best gift he could have gotten," she paused, "because he knew that he probably wouldn't see another."

Sensing the heavy turn the discussion had taken, Snape hastened to change the subject. "What has Longbottom been destroying lately?" he asked casually.

This brought a weak smile to Hermione's face. "Neville," she said, shaking her head, "he's working at the Ministry as a rare plant expert." She laughed before she continued, "He's still seeing Luna, that bizarre little blond woman. Do you remember her?"

Snape snorted, "How could one forget?"

"Right," Hermione went on. "They just got engaged. And I swear, if those two procreate, I'm never leaving my flat again."

Snape chuckled before saying smoothly, "You would have to leave, if only to warn others."

She laughed as she said, "Ever since they got engaged, Ron has been badgering me about when we're going to get married. He hasn't even asked me properly yet. What am I supposed to tell him?"

Surprised by her segue and the apparently rhetorical question, Snape asked, "Don't you want to marry him?"

"Of course I do." A diffident shrug joined her statement.

"That wasn't a very convincing yes," Snape replied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she said, "He's one of my best friends. Why wouldn't I want to?"

"Best friends do not always make the best lovers." As soon as the last word left his lips, he knew he had gone too far. "I'm sorry," he said, "It is not my place to speak on such things with you."

"It's all right," she said quietly. "I don't know why I brought it up. Maybe Ron's right. I should make some new friends."

Snape chuckled, "We are having coffee. That would be easy enough to confuse that with friendship."

She smiled before saying, "Would you, no, you probably wouldn't."

"Perhaps you could ask the entire question and see where it leads?" Snape asked.

Laughing, she pulled a thick silver flask from inside her cloak. "Do you like bourbon?" she asked.

"Occasionally," he replied.

After uncapping the flask, she poured a generous amount into Snape empty mug and repeated the gesture on her own.

Holding up her cup, she said, "Here's to your new beginning."

Snape smirked, raising his cup as he said, "Here's to your impending nuptials."

They both chuckled as their mugs met. Snape drank the full contents of the cup, pleasantly surprised by the woman. She had fine taste. The bourbon was excellent, filling him with a warmth that he hadn't felt in years. When he lowered his mug, he saw Hermione staring at him.

"Do I have foam on my nose?" he asked softly.

She giggled, "No, I was just thinking what a shame it is that you don't live near London anymore."

"Why," he asked wryly, "so you could watch the people chase me down the street with their fiery torches and pitch forks?"

"Because I like talking to you," she answered. "You aren't anything like I imagined you would be."

"Have you been sneaking from that flask all night?" he asked lowly.

She laughed, "Maybe, but you can't deny the fact that we have had an entire conversation without insulting each other."

Snape chuckled, "Give it time. I'm sure I'll not disappoint you there."

Hermione was still gazing at him.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm going to be in town until Friday," she said. "Do you think you could find the time, one day, to show me around the city, New Orleans I mean?"

Caught completely off guard, Snape struggled to think of anything to say to avoid the situation. All his brain offered was to ask, "What day is today?"

She giggled, "Today is Tuesday."

"Do you know where I live?" he asked, admonishing himself for perusing this further.

"Yes," she said, "I followed you from there."

Struck by the information, he asked, "And you didn't say anything the entire way?"

Her manner coy, she responded, "I didn't know what to say."

Snape smirked as he said, "I've found, since moving to this country, that I answer quite well to 'Hey you, English guy'. Try that next time."

Giggling, she said, "You still haven't answered my question. I'll understand if you're busy."

His thoughts were trailing off. He envisioned himself escorting her through New Orleans, taking her to lunch, taking her on the riverboat.

Hermione was still staring at him. "You're busy," she said, shifting her gaze to the tabletop. "I thought you would be."

"No, I'm not," he finally said. "Come by tomorrow, around eleven. We will have lunch and then I will act as your guide for the afternoon."

"That would be fantastic," she said happily. As she stood from the table, she said, "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"I will walk you to your hotel," Snape said as he stood as well.

"Actually, it's just down the block from here," she said. "I think I can manage," she added as she patted the wand in her pocket.

"Very well," Snape said. "I will be awaiting your arrival in the morning."

They both stood, facing each other, but neither moving to leave. Snape was wrestling with his thoughts, trying to remain focused, until he could get back to the sanctuary of his apartment.

After almost a full minute, Hermione extended her hand as she said, "Good night Professor."

He took her hand in his. It was so warm and inviting, meeting his in a symphony of awareness. The feeling was much stronger than it was before, when he had touched her innocently enough. He kept his face impassive, but he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand once before he could stop himself.

"Good night," he said before releasing her hand.

Watching her for a moment as she walked away, he breathed a profound sigh before he started walking in the opposite direction. His thoughts were racing again, making his trip home a fast one.

By the time he reached home, he had convinced himself that he was only taking her around the city because, without her, he would still be in Azkaban. Still, his musings were not about her as his liberator, but as a woman.

As he removed his cloak, he went straight to the ice-cold bottle. He took a couple of large gulps before replacing it. How could he have allowed himself to think of her in that way, he pondered? He was just lonely. It had been nearly a year since he had felt the touch of a woman, and he was overreacting to the simple contact. Still, his mind wanted to explore the thought of her company.

He had lived mentally while incarcerated, in an attempt to retain his sanity. Thinking that he was condemned, he never thought he would again leave the walls of Azkaban. Sometimes, perhaps because of his loneliness, his fantasies would still creep up on him, wanting to explore certain avenues of interest, whether he wanted them to or not.

After changing clothes, Snape settled under the covers of his bed, immediately faced with the thought of spending time with Hermione the next day. He found that he was looking forward to it, but the reason why wasn't readily apparent. She was certainly smart, that was without question. She also possessed a biting wit that Snape admired. The fact that she hadn't hesitated in talking back to him was exciting. However, she was still Hermione Granger, his former student, no matter how many years had passed.

Snape decided that he was only attracted to the idea of her, the prospect of spending time outside of his apartment with another person. She was only in town for a couple of days, so he thought he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. She was a girl--an annoying, clever girl and nothing more--he told himself as he closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn't deluding himself.