She stood on the cobblestone line street. It was quiet and a gentle breeze blew from the east. Her eyes were closed, and the slip of parchment was curled in her fist. It had taken a train, a taxi, and numerous hours of searching to find an approximate area for the location of the house. Now, Hermione stood trying to control her breathing before deciding to re-read the parchment and lift her eyes. One last breath and she opened her palm. Severus Snape resides in Thistlebook House, Edinburgh. She lifted her eyes and watched as the dwelling materialized in front of her.

The house was beautiful. An off-white color with muted green trim, welcoming windows, and beautifully tended gardens in the surround. Hermione didn't know what to expect when she had arrived in Edinburgh, but she felt a pleasant surprise flow through her. Despite all she had thought to know of Severus Snape, she had not known that this is how he would have chosen to live his second chance at life. It was downright domestic looking. Normal. She took another breath and began the path to the front door. Movement at the corner of the yard caught her eye.

"Miss Granger."

His voice was different. Still a full and rich baritone, but the usual smoothness seemed to have been replaced by an awkward hitch. It was undoubtedly a result of the injuries he had sustained the last time she had seen him. Hermione further evaluated her former professor as he approached; no longer a purposeful strong stride in his step, but a more relaxed pacing. Snape's hair still hung in black curtains around his face, but no longer shielded his eyes, nor was it as greasy in appearance. Just mildly smooth and shiny, a texture she had tried on numerous occasions to duplicate in her own brown waves. He still wore black; a rather high collared button shirt, pants, and boots. His complexion was no longer as sallow as it had been, just pale and was marred near the collar of his shirt. Another indication of the injuries he had sustained. He stopped a few steps from Hermione. She blinked up at him. "Professor."

She noted the almost imperceptible raise of his eyebrow, and how his eyes seemed to catalogue her entire presence without wavering from her face. It was taking almost all of her fortitude to keep her face neutral and her occluding shields in place under his gaze. Then, as if he had seen all he needed to, he nodded curtly and turned toward the front door. He opened it and glared back at her. Hermione immediately felt transported back to her dungeon potions class, half expecting the next words from his mouth to be "you are dismissed." But they didn't come. Instead, he offered, "Bring that insufferable brain of yours inside to ask your questions. I have other duties that will require my attention soon."

"Yes, sir." She automatically replied. With her head slightly bowed, she began walking toward the house.

"For Merlin's sake." Snape shook his head at her behavior but continued into the entryway of the house. He stepped to the side of the front door, intent on closing it after she walked through. Hermione's eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the interior and noted that it was a perfect reflection of the exterior of the house. Welcoming, calm, clean, and organized. She could spy a sitting room off to the left and a small dining room off to the right. At the end of the entry hallway appeared to be a kitchen door and a small flight of stairs to the right led to the second level. Snape's movements once again broke her concentration and she followed him to the sitting room. He sat in a wingback chair near the fireplace and in front of a large bookshelf. Hermione noted that every wall that wasn't a window was a bookcase. Scattered amongst the books, the cases also stored various bottles of exotic looking ingredients, mortars and pestles, and a few small cauldrons of different metals. She sat in the other wingback chair and turned to the former dead man. The silence between them was stifling. But Hermione drew upon her latent courage and began. "Hello, Professor. I'm sorry if I have interrupted something, and I appreciate you taking the time to see me."

Her words sounded stiff and overly formal. She watched Snape's inexpressive face search her own. She dodged the eye contact; this experience was taxing to her emotions and it would begin to affect her occlumency strength is she wasn't careful. "Miss Granger, I am not your professor. I haven't been for a very long time," he paused. "You are here at my behest."

She looked directly at him at this. "What do you mean?"

"I am sure you are aware of the finer details of a Fidelius Charm," he gave a slight smirk. "Those that are protected under one, such as I am, can never be found until the Secret Keeper discloses the location. As you are currently here, it means that Narcissa delivered my summons to you." He gestured at the slip of parchment still between Hermione's fingers.

She looked down at it. She had recognized his writing but had kept her hopes at bay that it truly had belonged to his hand. "How are you the Secret Keeper if you are the one under the charm?"

"I did not perform the Fidelius on this property. So, I may reside here and keep it secret. It was a small allowance I asked of Dumbledore before his…passing." Snape's voice took on an uncharacteristic dip at the mention of the former Hogwarts Headmaster. Hermione noticed his eyes flashed warningly at her when she felt her own features soften. "Given the duality of my tasks, I felt it important to have a safe house of my own should there be any…complications."

"Like dying?" Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth. She had not meant to blurt out such a statement, but Snape's calm demeanor and relative politeness was unnerving her. She gave him an apologetic look and was meant with the smallest of smiles. Is he laughing at me?

"Like dying." Snape's smile broke around his words. "It's true, I was not entirely confident in my ability to survive the war. I was wholly prepared to die, I thought it would afford me the release and peace I had sought for nearly twenty years. Narcissa had other plans for me. Once she secured my recovery, I gave her the location and have been here since. I learned through her that you had been searching for me."

Hermione felt as though she was very tenuously tied to her own body. Severus Snape sat before her speaking as if they were discussing probable outcomes for the Quidditch House Cup. She found herself struggling to pay attention to his words, her head was spinning as the entirety of the experience weighed heavily on her. She had searched for him for years. Even when she had indulged Harry in ceasing her research, she had never stopped risking her hope for the smallest theory or possibility that he was still alive. Hermione had always tempered herself to ensure that she didn't cross into obsession, but the feelings she had associated to the man next to her had become entangled over the years. She had memories of his strictness and coldness as a teacher. She knew he was unflinchingly dedicated to his role in the Order, and when his supposed betrayal was revealed it broke a part of her. It had only begun to mend when his delicate note floated into the tent that night on the Horcrux hunt, and a fondness she never would have associated with Severus Snape was born. Watching his demise and being helpless to change the outcome had rebroken the part of her that was almost healed. Now she sat next to him and could vaguely make out the sound of her name. Her head was swimming, and the comfortable room in which she sat felt confining-too warm. She recognized her symptoms of those that proceeded a faint, but she could do little to stop the progression. She raised her head and locked eyes with the dark eyes of Snape. Hermione felt her shields snap and the edges of her vision darkened.


A/N: Have I mentioned that this is a slow burn? Thank you all for your continued support and comments. Keep all of it coming. I love the feedback! -Archer