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9 January 2000

Not many people were aware that Severus' birthday fell on the 9th of January. No, it was probably safer to say that nobody actually knew about it. No one had bothered to ask him all these years and he didn't mind it. There was nothing worth celebrating about his day of birth even if he had played quite a pivotal role in the wizarding war – both as the instigator for what would come to torment him for years and later finding his reprieve when the worst of it was over.

He sat by the window, sipping a cup of tea while he went through his morning mail. There was nothing unusual save for a thick card which he took to assume was yet another invitation to one of his former student's engagement or marriage. Really, what made those dunderheads think he would bother to attend?

He kept it for the last after going through his correspondences and the newspapers – both Muggle and magical. As he turned the card over, he caught a faint scent of vanilla. The card was thick and had golden designs embossed onto it. Obviously they spent quite a pretty penny – or sickle – on the invitation. He opened it and read it not just once or twice but three times before he stared out of the window in a daze.

There was a picture of him inside charmed to show him wearing a crown and two exaggerated spots of blush on his cheeks while his own expression seemed rather bashful, an expression he was sure had never crossed his face in the last twenty years or so.

Happy Birthday

Those two words just sat inappropriately in the centre of the card as if it was meant to be meaningful to him. There was no indication of the sender but he could recognise that handwriting anywhere after spending years marking lengthy essays in that script.

He briefly contemplated sending a missive to ask Hermione Granger how she knew when his birthday was but decided against it. He had better things to do.

-.-.-.-.-

2 May 2000

They were all, once again, in the same goddamned ballroom with a different type of decoration this time. It was called The Fifties. Evidently, a few of those in-charge of the decoration must have been Muggle-born witches or wizards or the otherwise ignorant wizarding population wouldn't actually be outfitted in some of those atrocious Muggle attire they seemed to have unearthed from goodness knows where.

Polka-dots of all colours and sizes bombarded Severus' vision as he tried to block out the sight by focussing on the statue at the back of the room where he was currently taking refuge in. He felt as if he knew who the statue was made after but couldn't quite figure why it looked familiar.

"Admiring Harry, Professor?"

Hermione Granger stood next to him in a puffy dress that was, thankfully, free of polka-dots. The sleeves were also quite puffy but he noticed that unlike many of the other witches in the room who were exposing their shoulders, hers were covered modestly. Exactly like how it should be, he thought.

"Professor?" She was now looking up at him.

"Pardon me. Is this supposed to be Potter?"

"Look at the forehead."

Severus saw the lightning-shaped scar and cussed inwardly. How had he even missed that?

"It's getting really warm back here. Did they not charm the temperature to be even throughout the room?" Hermione pulled both her sleeves down as she spoke, revealing the fleshy expanses of her shoulders. She fanned herself with her hand and tilted her head to the side, waiting for his response.

Severus' thoughts had momentarily stopped when she had done that. It almost seemed to him as if she was about to undress herself— No! He threw that thought far into the deep ocean of his mind.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Miss Granger."

"Yes?"

"One should not adjust their clothing in such a manner as you have done, especially in the presence of the opposite gender."

She stuck her tongue out playfully. "I know, I know. Let's pretend it didn't happen."

"Really, now."

"Well, I don't really mind if you don't want to pretend it didn't happen."

"Miss Granger!" His voice was almost a growl at this point. The witch really knew how to twist his insides.

Hermione placed her hand gently on his folded arms. "I trust you, that's why."

Then she adjusted her sleeves back to their original position and strode back into the throng of polka-dots and bell-bottoms.

Severus had never felt more shaken up by anyone.

-.-.-.-.-

25 December 2000

"Severus, old man!" Lucius Malfoy strode towards him and slapped him on the back in the most affectionate way.

"I'm not any older than you are, Lucius," bit out Severus.

But the silver-haired man ignored him. "Wonderful, absolutely wonderful that you came. Narcissa wanted to host one of these last year but I told her we needed to show that we were repenting. Can't be enjoying ourselves too quickly now, can we?"

"I wonder." Severus raised his eyes upwards.

"You're looking quite dashing in those emerald robes. And is that a cravat I see?"

"I do know how to dress appropriately."

Lucius guffawed. "So what have you been keeping yourself occupied with? More spying?" He led Severus into the main hall where guests were already mingling with each other.

"I've had enough espionage to last for a few lifetimes." Severus thought he caught sight of a familiar shape of someone he knew but that person couldn't possibly be here.

"You could always do what those Muggles do. Something about an eye. Spying eye?" Lucius stopped at the bar where a young man was fixing drinks for guests.

"Private eye, you mean?"

Lucius nodded. "Exactly." Then, turning to the bartender, he said, "Scotch for me. Straight. Apple juice on the rocks for him." He jabbed a thumb in Severus' direction.

"On the rocks? Really?" The corner of Severus' mouth threatened to lift into an amused smile.

"I could bring out the floral teacups."

"No, thank you." Severus grimaced. "How did you come to know about private eyes?"

"I have my sources." Lucius smirked.

"Sneaky."

Lucius lowered his voice and moved closer to Severus. "This boy is a half-blood, by the way. Couldn't risk getting the house elf to do this work, no matter how skilful they actually are at serving up drinks. There are some thick-headed folks who believe house-elves actually dislike serving others." Lucius jutted his chin out to gesture towards something behind Severus.

Hermione Granger had just reached the bar and leaned against the counter, a wide smile on her face. "Merry Christmas, Mr Malfoy. Professor."

Lucius stepped forward and held out his hand. Hermione slipped her hand in his and he brought it to his lips briefly. "Charming Christmas, it is, Miss Granger. Please, call me Lucius."

"Hermione." She smiled and Severus thought she even batted her eyelashes a little. "I am so glad you decided to support my push for fairer rights of magical creatures."

"It seemed like the way to go, Hermione, especially with you spearheading the campaign." He gave one of his blinding smiles that Severus knew the man only reserved for one purpose in mind.

"Why, thank you." The witch ran her thumb over the back of the wizard's fingers.

"I think that wizard is vying for your attention, Lucius," interrupted Severus, gesturing vaguely towards the entrance of the hall.

Lucius frowned as he tried to make out who it was. "Well I had better check on the guests. Thank you for coming, Hermione. I hope you will enjoy today's event."

"The pleasure is mine, Lucius." She finally withdrew her hand from Lucius' grasp and turned towards the counter.

"What the hell?" hissed Severus as Lucius strode off.

Hermione smirked. "Never expected such a Muggle phrase from you."

"I never pegged you as being friendly with Lucius. Let alone him salivating all over your hand like a retriever."

"Are you jealous?" She laughed. "It doesn't suit you."

"I am not jealous," huffed Severus. "Both your behaviours do not make sense given your history."

Hermione rested her hand on his arm. "It's been awhile. And he didn't sell us out to Voldemort back when we were trapped just one floor below this room. And he got over his blood ideals after Draco got entangled with that cute Muggle-born witch over there."

Severus turned to see where Hermione was looking at and spotted the young Malfoy slow dancing with a raven-haired, young woman.

"I was not aware."

"You haven't been in contact with the Malfoys?" Hermione scrunched her face. "I thought you were close to the family."

Severus lowered his voice and brought her away from people who were near them. "I have avoided many people, Miss Granger, as they have avoided me in return. But for the Malfoys, I was not certain how they would react to the knowledge of what I had actually been."

Hermione looked up at him and didn't say anything for awhile. "I'm glad you aren't avoiding me."

He gazed back at her levelly until she lowered her eyes. "You need to be careful around Lucius."

"A quick snog never hurt anyone."

Severus' eyes widened.

"I'm joking. Well, partly. That's not how I get my work done but I wouldn't mind a snog on the side. He's a right arse but frightfully good-looking. And that luscious, long hair. Draco's going to look as good as his father when he's older."

Severus couldn't fully process what Hermione was saying. This type of conversation – with a former student – was so foreign to him. Did Hermione actually find the father more attractive than the son? Perhaps the most difficult thing to comprehend was that the Hermione Granger he knew – in his capacity as her former teacher – would want a liaison with a married man.

"It's not like I want to have a liaison with him," she continued.

Well, that took away some of the confusion.

"I don't particularly like him." She clasped her fingers together.

"Then, why would you …?" Severus trailed off, unable to complete the sentence using her words.

"Sometimes I just want to feel alive." She looked at him searchingly. "If you know what I mean."

Severus knew. After giving up twenty years of his life to two masters when his heart had died along with Lily Evans, he occasionally found himself questioning if he was truly alive or a part of the living dead. But he realised he found his answer after the numerous times Hermione Granger made his heart jump in ways that made him think he ought to make a visit to St. Mungo's.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Miss Granger."

She tilted her head questioningly. "What now, sir?"

"I fully understand what you mean. However, it is prudent to exercise self-restraint and to think twice before attempting anything rash."

"That can make me feel alive." She grinned, showing perfect, white teeth.

"I shall be blunt. Do not flirt with Lucius Malfoy unless you are willing to bear the consequences. He is quite the snake. Narcissa is no pushover either."

"I'm not a small girl anymore, Professor." She leaned across the bar counter and addressed the young man. "I'd like a martini, please. Make it Dirty. Really Dirty."

Severus pursed his lips as she looked back up at him with an inscrutable expression.