August 7, 1999.

He recognized her the second she entered the Three Broomsticks, even she was half the woman she once had been. That outrageous bubblegum-pink spiked hair was gone, replaced by a discreet, copper-colloured haircut. Green eyes narrowed, scanning the place. Finally, she saw him and walked to his table in decided footsteps... but not without inevitably bumping into a fat wizard in half the way.

"Tonks", he greeted with a wave of his head, while she was still apologizing the wizard.

"Wotcher, Severus." She waved briefly and gave him a quick smile while she sat; a smile that soon faded, devoured by the mask of self-control that in vain she tried to impose to her face. This was, to be true, the biggest of all changes that had occured to her.

A new toughness had been installed in her features in the last weeks. All the feelings she was trying to hide, though, were very clear to him... but it wasn't to analyse and compare the new Tonks that he had called her there.

He quickly asked two firewhiskeys; and she gave him a second quick smile.

"So...?" She asked, fingers dumming on the table and, he could guess, an excited feet waving under it.

He would rather go straight to the subject.

"McGonagall wants you as the new Charms teacher."

"Me?" She widened her eyes and sat straight on the chair. This was the last thing she expected when Severus sent her an owl some hours earlier. "Me? How? Why?"

"She didn't tell me. But must have her reasons. She insisted even when I left very clear that I prefer someone more... someone with a better coordination." He awaited a few seconds and then, his lips curled millimeters up.

She faced him. His usually cold black eyes were now almost sparkling, and she knew that smile. It wasn't sarcastic at all; it was just... teaser.

"Well, thank you very much!" She pretended indignation.

Madam Rosmerta approached them with a tray in one of her hands, placed two glasses on the table and moved away.

"You commented with the Weasleys you don't feel... ah... comfortable anymore, working as an auror", he said, in a calculated casual tone.

She bitted her lip before answer.

"Yeah. You know, too much memories and all."

He didn't make any sarcastic commentary, as half of her was expecting. On the contrary.

"Yes, I do. You must, though, be grateful for the opportunity to change the scenery a bit and..." he stopped himself; he was going a little bit too far. He took the glass to his lips, avoiding her curious eyes. She imitated him, drinking slowly, thinking.

"Hogwarts, on the other hand... Will we be coleagues, then?" Tonks asked from behind her glass. "Again?"

"If you accept... I must only remember you that, sometimes, is much easier face a bunch of vengeance-seeker Death Eaters than those unpleasant brats trying to pretend the know-it-all."

She smiled for the third time the ghost of her former smile. Apart everything, that twisted and acid sense of humor of his still was exactly the same. She sighed, melancholic, and didn't turned her eyes away from him untill he faced her back.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing"; and she frowned and looked down, studding the rest of the drink in her glass. Maybe... yes. Maybe a change'd do her good, help begin a new life. "When do i have do give my answer?"

"In two weeks. We'll need time to find someone in case you don't accept our proposal."

"'right"; and she drank the rest of her firewhiskey at one gulp. "And about you? Still Potions?"

The changes in his face were minimal. Black eyes narrowed some milimeters and his chin stiffened almost imperceptibly. Still, she noted, and chuckled.

"This answers. But I knew you're deputy headmaster now..." she interrupted herself bitting her lip again and fixing her gaze in a point beyond him. Snape turned round. A light-brown haired wizard, wearing a shabby overcoat had just walked into the pub. And before Severus could even note, the words escaped from his lips for the first time:

"I am... really sorry for what happened..."

"That's ok", she interrupet him. "War..." and she waved her hand in the air, trying to explain. "At least... we..."

And in the following second, the mask of self-control that she kept so carefully broke in a thousand pieces. And for the first time of many to come, he regreted being so close, so controlled, so unable of express a minimal preoccupation and feelings... so unable of just hold her and...

But there was much more than control, much more than inability of expression. Much more...

---

So.

First, thank you very, very much for spending your time reading this ) and i must ask you to apologize any language mistakes, since English is not my first language. And, what a shame, the story wasn't even beta-ed (oh, and, btw, a beta reader'd be the most fantastic thing ever ;D).

After had promised to myself about 87594875 times i wouldn't translate this 30 chapters story into English, because, like, i really don't have a life, no, imagine that, i don't have absolutely nothing to do; well, after promising myself i wouldn't, i couldn't, of course, resist. So, here's the fic. I'll do the possible to update as soon as possible.

There's a lot to be explained, isn't it? But, i bet, the most intriguing question is: from where came all this unexpected intimacy between these two? Really strange, since they barely exchange a few phrases in the books ;) Oh yes, and my Snape seems more relaxed than he normally is, but, hey! The war is over. His side won. The D.E.s are now or, hm, dead or in Azkaban. He doesn't need to worry about half the things that preoccupied him during the war.