A/N: So, it's been a while! Between work and the holidays, I haven't had quite as much time to write. Things have calmed down a bit now, so I'll try to have the next chapter up within a week or two. The fairy lights thing I mention in Chapter 5 - about Severus sulking because he didn't want fairy lights on his Christmas tree because he thought they were staring at him - that was GinnyW's "Slip of the Tongue." It's an adorable story. If you haven't read it, you should. :)

This is a work of fanfiction and, as such, I make no money on it. Anything you recognize belongs to the lovely JK Rowling.

Chapter Six

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Severus glanced down at me and saw the edges of my lips quiver as I tried to swallow my humor. "Oh, for God's sake, Hermione. I was a spy for twenty years in the camp of the Dark Lord. If I say we're being followed, can't you trust that my brains have not gone soft?"

I felt my cheeks heat, and I smoothed the edge of my robe in embarrassment. I hadn't realized I was so transparent. "Of course. My apologies, Severus. Who do you think is following us?"

I watched him cock his head, the light catching the sharp planes of his cheeks and nose. "Whoever it is, they aren't very subtle. I sensed them immediately." He stopped abruptly in front of a window display at Madam Malkin's. "Pretend to window shop while I catch a glimpse of the lobotomized monkey that the Ministry has tailing us." His clever crow eyes scanned the Christmas crowd reflected in the pane of glass.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Severus. If you say that someone is following us, I know with 100% certainty that someone is tailing you and me. However, how do you know that they aren't war groupies?" I smiled flirtatiously and murmured, "I know for a fact that you had a few ladies dying to have you stir their slowly simmering cauldron."

A look of utter revulsion crossed his face. "Yes, and Sybil led the mob. Naked." The Potions master shuddered, and his eyes turned brooding.

"Being constantly vigilant can be exhausting, and I'd hate to see you end up like Moody. Last I heard, he got sentenced to six months in Azkaban for attacking a Muggle clown. Said he was starting a dark army of balloon dogs and giraffes."

Our eyes met in the glass and Severus's eyebrows drew together ferociously. "Professor Granger, I know for a fact that story is a complete fabrication. Alastor Moody retired and is happily living in Cotswold. He and Arabella Figg finally tied the knot. They have ten thousand cats in a house the size of a postage stamp."

I was unembarrassed to be caught in the lie, and waved the truth away like a strange smell in the air. "Well, yes, but it was such a good story. And a propos to your situation, as well." Under the sudden heaviness of his glare, I shifted uncomfortably and looked at the wares behind the glass. "Window shop, you say?"

When he went back to surveying the surrounding area, I began to look in earnest at the display. "Oh, how pretty!"

I'm not the sort of female who has ever been captivated by shopping for clothes. I'm reasonably attractive in a drab palette of brown and frizz, but were I to drape myself in brightly-colored fripperies, I'm well aware that I'd look ridiculous… like a sparrow with a peacock feather Spellotaped to its arse. This particular window display, however, filled my heart with girlish glee. Silks and satin and lace, oh my! Bustiers and corsets and garters, oh my!

"I'll be two shakes of a lamb's tail, Severus. I'm just going to…" I gestured vaguely at the store and wandered towards the entrance like a moth drawn to a light. "You know, nighties."

I was in and out in ten minutes, tops. There was no need for him to be that irritated, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his brows crouched like pouting caterpillars over his eyes. With a small trill of feminine satisfaction, I noticed that even as aggravated as he appeared, he couldn't keep from glancing repeatedly at the teeny weeny bag in my hand.

"So, did you discover who was watching us?" I asked him in an attempt at reconciliation.

His eyes flicked up and down the street, darting like a Seeker after the Snitch. "No." His voice was frustrated. "But I felt their eyes all over me, sticky and probing. Someone was watching me closely. That's not a feeling I'll ever forget. I thought for a moment I had them… but then they were just gone." Severus snorted and his mouth curled up. "I also saw your ex-paramour. Ronald Weasley strolled by, very ostentatiously not looking at me. He's about as inconspicuous as a choir girl at an orgy."

"You accidentally go to ONE orgy, and…" I broke off suddenly and blushed. I hadn't been paying terribly close attention as I had been thinking about the naughty things I intended to do with my purchase from Madame Malkins. "Oh, you weren't talking about… Never mind." Hiking the bag up higher on my arm, I tried to ignore the curious look on his face. Growing uncomfortable with the silence, I blurted, "I mean, nothing against orgies, if that's your thing. It's just not what I had expected. My date told me it was an in-depth look at Roman culture, and I had no idea that when he said in-depth he meant my depths, and Merlin! I'm just starving! I could definitely go for a bite to eat. I don't think I can go another step without it."

"You seem flustered, my dear." He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped an octave. "Hermione, there's no need to be embarrassed of your very naughty and titillating past. Believe me, I am more than happy to hear about it. But I must confess to being shocked by one thing…"

My eyes flicked to his, and oh gods, the look he was giving me made me feel warm down to my numb little toes. I made a small noise of inquiry that sounded embarrassingly kittenish.

Severus whispered, "You were a choir girl?"

I cleared my throat, my lashes lowered demurely. "It seemed the thing to do at the time."

He laughed.

Oh my. It was an honest, warm sound that dripped like honey down my spine. I felt it shiver across my skin and my eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. I don't think I'd ever heard him laugh before. Not like that, anyway.

"Shall we have dinner then, Hermione? We did miss lunch, after all." He picked up my free hand and rubbed his thumb across my palm. His eyes were warm.

For someone who professed to be clueless when it comes to relationships, Severus was doing a remarkable job of turning me into a quivering pile of jelly. Aching, female jelly. I considered gagging at the mental image my brain presented to me, but I was too busy being concerned that I was falling in love with the moody, unpredictable bastard.

I nodded. "Dinner sounds lovely."

To my amusement, he took me to a pub named "The Surly Bastard." Severus met my amused glance with a disdainfully raised eyebrow and gestured impatiently for me to precede him into the restaurant. We sat at a dark booth in the corner and picked up our menus. They were sticky to the touch. I did my best not to grimace.

"So, do you come here often?" I asked and then winced at the idiocy of the question.

"Indeed. I also like puppies and long walks on the beach. My favorite color is blue and I never, ever kiss on a first date." His thin, mobile lips curled up at the corner as he opened his menu and studied it. "Really, Hermione. What a question."

I felt stupid. I hate feeling stupid. Snapping the menu open in irritation, I growled, "It's the sort of question people ask when they are trying to get to know each other, Severus. My sum knowledge of you is this: you are a bastard, you like Potions, books, and tormenting first years, and you are a bastard."

"You said that I was a bastard twice."

"Well, it bore repeating, didn't it?" I peeked over the top of my menu to see how he was taking my vitriol. His eyes were crinkled at the corner, but I couldn't tell if he was squinting to read his supper options or if he was grinning behind the cover of the menu.

"I have been here a number of times. The food is decent, and I didn't feel up to going somewhere we might run into the Boy-Who-Chews-with-his-Mouth-Open." His voice was warm. Ah. Definitely smiling. "Before I started coming here, the restaurant was called 'The Prancing Unicorn.'"

I snorted and took a sip from my water. At his inquiring look, I said, "So, you just walked down the street, saw a placard with a dancing unicorn and thought, 'Oooh! I must eat here'?"

His eyebrows snapped together. "I said it was a prancing unicorn." Severus crossed his arms over his chest in mock severity. At least, I hoped it was mock. "And no, I came here because I know the owner from… darker times."

As if on cue, a man approached. His hair and eyes were dark, but his skin was as pale as mold on a crust of bread. His nose was pointy and tipped up at the end, pulling his upper lip into a bow and revealing a swathe of unhealthy pink- and white-mottled gum. Small baked bean teeth nestled haphazardly in his weak jaw. He had the appearance of a dim-witted poodle (which is really something because poodles are generally quite sharp), something I had come to associate with the most over bred of the Pureblooded caste. In fact, he looked rather like a dark-haired version of…

"Malfoy!" Severus smiled with real warmth. I drew back in alarm, an action that was not missed by the degenerate approaching us.

"Now, I've asked you to call me Julius, haven't I? You've gone and scared your companion before she even got the chance to get to know me." He bowed deeply to me, his eyes flickering over my face and bust in gentle curiosity, before his gaze alighted on my nightie bag from Madam Malkin's. He smirked.

"This is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Julius Malfoy." Severus waved casually between us.

Julius took our order and excused himself, taking his distracting teeth with him. I'd never judge a person based on looks, but being the daughter of two dentists, I'm genetically unable to abide rotten teeth. Once he was gone, I turned to Severus with a questioning look. "Malfoy?"

"Don't make the mistake of lumping all Malfoy's together. Draco's not so bad."

"Draco still refuses to call me anything other than 'Mudblood' to this day."

"Well, Julius is nothing like the rest of the clan. He was Abraxis Malfoy's wrong-blanketed son – Lucius's half-brother. He's a good bloke. Hufflepuff, you know."

I crossed my ankles and rested my elbows on the edge of the table. (Gingerly. It was sticky as well.) "How did you meet each other?"

Julius's voice chirped, "We were Death Eaters together. Here's some water for the table. Are you ready to order?"

My voice was weak as I ordered the Beef Wellington. I turned to Malfoy. "Death Eaters. You don't say?"

"Don't judge him too harshly. Being a Death Eater was expected of him. Old Abraxis was as nasty as they come. Said even though Julius was a bastard, he was half Malfoy and goddamnit, that meant something. Of course, he couldn't be bothered to provide decent medical care for the boy, and God help Julius if he needed money for schooling, because Abraxis surely wasn't going to do anything about it. But bastard Malfoys are perfect cannon fodder for the Dark Lord." Severus shook his head and took a sip of his water.

"Why didn't he run?"

"Julius never took the whole thing seriously. He used to thumb his nose at dear old Dad every chance he got. He even took the name Malfoy just to get under his skin. Then Abraxis had his mother kidnapped. Julius was given a choice: take the Mark or his mother would die."

I leaned back against the pleather seat of the booth. "That's wretched! So, he took the Mark to save his mum." I pleated the paper napkin that had sat beneath my silverware.

"Yes, but it didn't matter. Once he was Marked, he couldn't get away. They killed his mother anyway to punish him for resisting." I studied Severus's face. His brow was smooth and his eyes dispassionate. I was beginning to realize that he wore that expression like a mask to hide his vulnerability. How similar was his own story to Julius's? I wondered.

I slid my palm across the table and covered his hand, squeezing lightly. He glanced at me, and I saw surprise flash for just a moment before he ruthlessly tamped it down behind his eyes. "Anyway, we'd been… friendly during our Hogwarts years, and I did the best I could to keep him out of Voldemort's way. He never was more than a low-level Death Eater. On the fringe. Just a Muggle Baiter." He slid his free hand down his suddenly tired-looking face. "Anyway. That's all in the past, I suppose."

"Yes, well. The past rarely stays there, does it?" My thoughts turned dark, and I grimaced, thinking of my parents. I tried to remember only the happy times, but IT was always lurking like a dust mote in the corner of my vision. "If you don't mind, I'm just going to powder my nose."

He looked up at me, surprised. "Of course."

In the bathroom, I leaned over the sink and stared at my face in the mirror. I stared for a long time, watching my eyes solidify from wounded brown to their normal hazel once more. The fact my parents were murdered by Death Eaters at the end of the war was not a secret. However, I didn't want to get soggy on Severus on our first date. (I had decided our trip to collect hollyhocks didn't really count. After all, he had to do that whether or not I accompanied him. It was just an added bonus that we ended up sucking face in the dark forest.)

I splashed water on my cheeks and then dragged the rough brown paper towels over my face to dry off. Game face, game face. I smiled and pushed open the ladies' bathroom door.

I'd been gone longer than I thought, and Severus was leaning over a pocket-sized book. He looked a little lost, as if he had done something wrong and was looking for the answer. Covering my mouth with my hand, I realized that he'd shrunk one of the books on wooing, and presumably, he'd had it in his pocket during our conversation.

When he saw me coming, he snapped the book shut and slipped it into his robe. I rested my hand on his shoulder and then slid in next to him on his side of the booth so that our legs touched, hip to thigh.

A/N: So this chapter has a little bit of a more serious ending. No worries, lots more fluff to come.

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