AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!

While the afterlife improved one's memory, it did little to improve one's concentration.

Severus stared at the page. Every time he read the first sentence, his mind wandered to the expression on Ms. Granger's face after she completed ironing her outfits. He knew she'd been eager to please him, but he had never grasped the full extent of her need for approval. Could he have afforded to give her the attention she so richly deserved during his lifetime though? While she was his student, he needed to project an image and focus upon his spying, yet could he have at least written an encouraging note on her parchments every now and then?

"I still can't memorize all these names."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"I have no idea why Plato has so many characters in The Republic," Sirius whined.

"He created most of them for the sole purpose of confusing you."

"And I suppose you could name them all."

"Yes, there's Socrates of course, Thrasymachus, Polemarcus…"

"Alright I get the point. No need to be a know-it-all show off."

His mind wandered back to teaching Ms. Granger and the times he'd insulted her. Perhaps he had taken it too far at certain points…

"The Republic is too long anyway."

Severus' mind returned to the present. "Then you could do your homework and read Nicomachean Ethics."

"I would rather watch paint dry."

"Then ask St. Peter for a coloring book if Greek philosophy is proving too difficult for you."

"No, I just need another Plato play, one that's easier to read."

Severus turned the page.

"I said, 'I need another Plato play.'"

Severus glanced up from his reading. "Are you implying that you want to read The Timaeus?"

"Is it interesting at all?"

"Only if you like complicated metaphysical systems."

"I don't want a book about metaphysical systems, simple or complex."

"Then you should ask for a coloring book."

"I don't need to color, but I would like something simple like The Trial of Socrates. At least that was easy to understand."

"Might I suggest The Gorgias?"

Sirius' glow brightened. "Is that the name of a mythical monster? I could really go for an action story right about now."

"No, he's a sophist."

"A what?"

"A rhetorician."

Sirius scowled. "You don't need to prove you're smarter than anyone by using technical terms."

"I am not. I'm simply defining his profession."

"What is his profession?"

"You truly don't know what a rhetorician does?"

Sirius' glow became a dull red. "No you perfect one, I do not."

Severus closed his book. "A rhetorician is someone who argues for a living. They are unconcerned with the truth, only in what they can convince people of."

"So they're like politicians?"

"The most successful politicians are rhetoricians anyway."

Sirius' glow returned to its normal hue.

"If you want to understand fully the setup to The Republic, you should read The Gorgias. It discusses the themes Socrates will tackle. Plus there aren't too many characters to keep track of."

"Where is it?"

Severus grabbed a green book and gave it to Sirius.

"Thank you."

Severus' glow intensified. "Did I just hear you using manners?"

"Why are you so surprised?" Sirius asked. "I know how to use manners."

"You could have fooled me."

"I'm no more impolite than you are."

"I would beg to differ."

Sirius picked up the book and frowned. "At least I'm not an arrogant arse."

"Careful Black. You could succeed in our mission and still get purgatory time because you cannot refrain from snide comments."

Sirius muttered something, but Severus thought it wise not to ask what it was. Instead he opened his book again.

"Your glow is duller than usual."

Severus looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"I've noticed since you came back Friday night that your glow is duller. I was wondering if there's a reason for it."

"I do not understand how glows work, so I couldn't tell you what is affecting it."

"So there is something you don't know."

Severus glared at him.

"I never thought I'd see the day Severus Snape admitted he was ignorant of anything." Sirius sneered.

"I will propose a hypothesis though."

"Oh this'll be good."

"Perhaps I am more relaxed than I have been all week. It is quite pleasant to read without Ms. Granger yapping in my ear, though my stress levels do rise every time you start to whine."

"Is there a reason you are always short with me?"

"If you expect me to be short with you then why do you continue to speak to me?"

"Because Purgatory is boring, and I'm desperate for anything interesting, even if it involves being insulted."

"Reading is just as entertaining as speaking with me. Why don't you engage in that?"

Sirius held up his book. "You're right, I would rather wade through these names than deal with you."

Severus returned his attention to his book, hoping to distract himself from the memories of his week with Ms. Granger.

He was failing.

Hermione panted as she appeared before her parents' house. When she'd sent them to Australia without their memories, she never considered that they would enjoy the warmer climate enough to stay. The distance may have kept them safe during the war, but it was hell apparating across several continents.

The white screen door opened. "Hermione?"

She caught her breath and trudged over to the entrance. "Hello Mum."

"Oh dear." Her mother stepped onto the concrete deck. "Did you overexert yourself again?"

"No," Hermione gasped. "I'm just not used to apparating that long of a distance."

"You've been saying that for six years now." Her mother embraced her.

Hermione returned the hug. "In six more maybe I'll be used to it."

Her mother rubbed her back.

"Where is Dad?"

"Your father is in the bedroom. He was trying to stay awake for you, though I don't know if he's succeeded."

"How is he doing?"

"He's just as ornery as usual." The women broke apart. "Most days he has energy, but he slows down in the evenings."

"Is he taking his medication?"

Her mother led her inside. "He does, though he makes it clear he doesn't like it."

"That's Dad." The door clicked behind them.

"Hermione?"

Her mother's lips curled up. "At least his hearing isn't impaired."

"Thank goodness."

"I don't know if he'll consider it good news given that now I know he's not going deaf but ignoring me."

"I can hear both of you."

The clacking of a walker echoed throughout the room. Her mother gasped. "Wilford, you need to rest."

"I'm fine, Muriel." He huffed. "I need to see my baby girl more than I need sleep."

Hermione grinned as her father hobbled out. "Hello Dad."

He outstretched his arms. "Come here."

"I shouldn't hug you so soon after a surgery."

"Pat me on the shoulder then."

Her face lit up as she did so.

"You must be hungry after your journey," Muriel noted. "I can make us some sandwiches."

"Actually I'd like some leftover pizza," Wilford cut in.

"We don't have any leftover pizza."

"Don't we have some left in the fridge?"

"It was a week ago. I threw it out."

"I'll settle for some fish sticks, then."

"Do you realize how much salt and fat those contain?"

"Do you realize I want to eat food instead of grass?"

Muriel sighed. "I'll make you a salad."

"Fine, but after that I'm taking Hermione to the store so we can pick up some actual food." He winked at his daughter.

She giggled.

"The doctors don't want you driving for another week."

"She can drive me."

"I don't know how to drive," Hermione argued.

"It's an easy enough skill to pick up on," Wilford answered.

Muriel shook her head.

"Come on." Wilford made his way into the living room. "I'll explain how to start a car. You can take it from there."

"Aren't you going to teach her how to use a steering wheel?"

"She's the brightest witch of her age. She can drive a car."

Muriel threw up her hands before strolling into the kitchen.

Wilford chuckled. "I love your mother, but I swear she is taking this health food thing too far."

"She has every reason to worry." Hermione lowered her voice.

"I know." He exhaled.

"We want you to stay with us for a while."

"I suppose I do want to stick around for a little while longer too, if only to keep your and your mother's lives interesting."

"You should." Hermione held out her hands. "Do you need help…"

"No," Wilford maneuvered himself into the blue recliner. "I've got it."

She stood over him until she was certain he was comfortable. Then she moved his walker just enough to keep it from hitting his legs.

"Thank you, sweetie." He took a deep breath.

"Be honest with me," Hermione swallowed. "How are you doing?"

"Much better now that I'm out of that hospital," he admitted. "I was getting sick of being woken up every three hours, and the food left something to be desired."

"I would imagine."

"Still, your mother was great company, and she always made sure I had a good book to read."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you more."

"No, you needed to live your own life and run your bookstore."

Hermione sat in the whicker rocking chair across from him. "I know, but I should've done more."

"I want you to live your life, not put it on hold for me."

"I've been living my life anyway."

Wilford cocked his head. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means." She squirmed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, except," her voice was softer. "I have a new partner in my heart strengthening potion."

"That's great news, though I'm sure you were capable of finding it on your own."

"Yes, but he's a little uh, unorthodox."

"Aren't all academics a little unusual?"

"Yes, but he's a little otherworldly."

"There's nothing wrong with someone spiritual."

"No, I mean he's extremely spiritual." She drawled.

"Is he half insane?" Wilford twisted his lower lip.

"No, he's another kind of spiritual."

"Is he a ghost?"

"More or less."

He shook his head. "I swear every time I think I have the Wizarding World figured out you throw another curve ball at me."

"In my defense, I wasn't expecting to work with a spirit," she argued.

"They don't tend to help the living with their problems, but as long as the task gets done then who am I to complain?"

"Don't you think it's weird that I'm working with a spirit?" She lowered her voice.

"I thought it was weird when you were levitating books at the age of four." He shrugged. "This is mild by comparison."

"I know, but it's odd to think I'm working with him."

"Does he know what he's doing?"

"Yes."

"Is he pleasant enough to be around?"

"More pleasant than I thought he'd be."

"Then keep working with him." Wilford replied. "Who knows? He could be good for you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Wilford leaned closer to her. "It means you're never nervous about telling me about someone unless you like them."

Hermione burst out laughing. "Oh no, I would never be interested in this spirit."

"Why not?"

"He is my former potions professor, Severus Snape."

Wilford's eyes grew. "The professor who used to call you an 'Insufferable Know-It-All?'"

"Yes."

"Is he still insulting you?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"No, he's much better behaved now."

"Tell him if he mistreats you, I know where to get holy water."

"Holy water?" Hermione choked back a giggle.

"Yes," Wilford's expression betrayed no playfulness. "I may be a muggle, but I'm certain I can take him on."

"I'll be sure to let him know that you'll sprinkle holy water on him and whack him with your walker if he mistreats me."

"If he knows what's best for him that will be enough incentive to treat you like a princess."

"I'm sure it will be."

"Wilford! Hermione! Dinner is ready."

She stood. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine."

After a few moments of struggle, he stood.

"If you need any help, don't hesitate to call me. I will do whatever I can." She smiled.

He touched his daughter's cheek. "Just be happy. That's all I want for you."

"I am happy."

"Good." He removed his hands from her. "Now, let's go eat some grass."

Hermione's eyes glistened. "Sure."

Together, they made their way to the kitchen, where Muriel had a meal of salad and sandwiches prepared.

It was more delicious than Wilford cared to admit.