"I'm not joining the Aurors, Ronald," Hermione repeated for the tenth time. She walked into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, holding the door behind her so that Ron and Harry could follow her in, continuing their conversation.

"That's barmy! You're really going to leave us to our own devices, then? To chase some theory you have about Snape?!" He returned, almost spitting the last word. The three housemates circled the kitchen table, taking up residency in their favorite seats: Ron close to the pantry at the foot of the table, Harry at the head of the table where he could view all points of entry/exit with ease, and Hermione to his immediate right. The Ministry letters, and Hermione's refusal of their offer, was all Ron wanted to talk about since the day before.

The grey, nondescript owl had sat perched on the windowsill of the kitchen, waiting patiently for one of the occupants of Grimmauld Place to walk into the room and take the three letters. Harry was the first to stumble through, bleary eyed, and acknowledge the bird. He removed the post and called for Ron and Hermione.

A letter was addressed for each of them, and they opened them simultaneously. It had been almost three months since The Battle of Hogwarts, and the Ministry had been admirable in allowing the three friends to try to recover and heal. Now, the letters reminded them of their lives beyond Horcrux hunting, Dark Lords, and death. Having spent the bulk of the last month ensconced in the newly renovated safety and silence of Grimmauld Place. Hermione was the first to finish reading, placing her letter on the table and turning to the kettle on the stove to start a pot of tea. She sat in her chair, waiting for the kettle to sing and the boys to finish reading.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, finishing next. His eyes were glinting with his excitement, and a wide mouth smile lit his face. His excitement radiated off of him, and it caused Hermione to draw a slow breath before setting her lips in a small, patient smile. She directed her eyes to Harry, who was still eyeing his letter and was sliding into his seat at the table. His face was open, but unreadable, and Hermione knew he must have reread the letter and was now contemplating its contents. She reached a hand across the short distance to rest it on his arm that held the letter and catch his gaze as he looked up.

"Haz?" she queried, pulsing a quick squeeze to his arm.

"Mi," Harry replied and quickly floated his fingers to rest on her hand, where they slightly interlaced. His green eyes met her brown ones, holding them for a moment. Ron coughed in an unsubtle fashion to break the unspoken communication that was occurring between them.

Hermione turned to Ron, mumbling a half-hearted apology to him. During Ron's absence on the Horcrux hunt, she and Harry had involuntarily developed a shorthanded communication pattern between them. It's innocent intimacy still left Ron uncomfortable from time to time, and his cough reminded Hermione that the wounds that remained from his abandonment still had not fully healed. The kettle started to sing, and she extracted herself from Harry and the table. Removing it from the heat of the stove, she threw the question over her shoulder to the boys, "So, they want us to join the Aurors?"

"It looks that way," Harry replied.

"I think it's brilliant," Ron smiled, accepting a mug of tea from Hermione. "We don't even have to sit our NEWTS because of our vast amount of 'field experience'."

Hermione handed Harry his tea while sitting down again with her own. She noted that the corner of Harry's mouth twitched as Ron quoted the Ministry letter. She thought he was handling the entire situation with a vast amount of calm and maturity, but she knew his mind was running through a myriad of thoughts below the surface. Hermione kept her silence, watched Harry draw a breath to speak. "It's a great offer. I don't think I could stomach returning to Hogwarts to finish school now, anyway. Joining the Aurors is what I wanted in fifth year, I always thought it was a good career."

"It's everything you're good at, mate!" Ron chuckled in response. Hermione stiffed at the implications of his words, but Harry seemed to brush them off, choosing to smile back at the red head.

"I guess you're right, Ron. It's a good choice." Harry responded and shifted to Hermione. "Well then, Hermione?"

"No," was the only answer she provided to his question, eyes on her mug of tea. She could hear the graceless thump of Ron's mug settling on the table. She didn't need to turn to him to know the look that was on his face. He would be shocked, mouth slightly gaped, eyes widened and flickering with impatience. Hermione knew Ron would question why should wouldn't accept the Ministry's offer. Why she wouldn't stay with her two best friends for their next great adventure. So, she didn't look at him. She lifted her eyes to Harry's face, knowing what she would see there too, and preferred it to the opposite end of the table.

Harry set his lips together, eyes slightly crinkled in the corners. A singular nod of the head. Hermione thought he looked so much like Dumbledore at that moment and was grateful for Harry's silent acceptance. He reached for her, but stopped, as though he remembered Ron's presence and thought better of it. He cleared his throat, opting to have the conversation with words instead of touch. "Okay, Hermione. Do you know what you want to do instead?"

Hermione straightened in her chair, looked between both boys, and opened her mouth, "I'm going to find him. I'm going to find out how he did it."

"'He' who?" Ron replied, looking at her with confusion. "How he did what?"

"Professor Snape." She said, hearing the breath Harry sucked in quickly.

A/N: Thank you to all of you that favorited and followed. Please continue to leave the love.