A/N: I would just briefly like to apologise for the use of 'Bolstrad' as the name for a Transylvanian village. I am sure it either sounds grossly stereotypical or embarrassingly wrong, but, unfortunately, that is as far as my imagination would stretch on the subject. If I'm perfectly honest I know very little about Transylvania and Moldova (which is also mentioned), and my research actually lead to very little information, so again, sorry for any discrepancies.

Chapter Two

Renting a small house crammed between a dusty bookshop and seldom-visited perfumers, Severus had been settled in the all-wizarding, Transylvanian village of Bolstrad for almost six months. Prior to this, wandering like some Romantic hermit, he had moved through Europe, resting mainly within Muggle communities to ensure he did not divulge his location to the British Ministry of Magic, but feeling Bolstrad was remote enough for him to live comfortably without his identity being discovered. How wrong he had been.

For the first time in as long as he could remember he was at liberty to make his own decisions; go wherever he chose to go and associate with the people whom he chose to associate… For two years this existence had served him well, but that visit from Miss Granger, two days previously, had stirred within him a new restlessness. Initially he had thought it was because she was a reminder of his old life, that she had merely drawn memories, long since buried, back to the surface, and now he was going to have to try and forget all over again. But, even after copious helpings of Ogden's finest, he still felt a twang of discomfort deep in his abdomen at the thought of the Hermione's wide hazel eyes looking at him with the same ingenious yet inquisitive expression she'd once looked at her Potions professor with. He resigned that he would merely have to carry on with his life as he had been before miss Granger's interruption.

~oOo~

Hermione sealed the envelope and attached it to the owl's leg, allowing it to nibble playfully at her hand before it swept out of the window, bound for The Burrow. The letter it carried was informing Ron that she would remain in Europe for two weeks longer. Although she had been to French and Italian ski-resorts with her parents when she was younger she had never had the opportunity to travel through wizarding Europe and thought she ought to seize the opportunity whilst it presented itself. Tonight she would dine out in a quaint little restaurant she'd seen yesterday and tomorrow she would catch a train through the Carpathian Mountains and into Moldova, before heading north. She had maintained an acquaintance with Viktor Krum and would write to him and see if he wished to meet at some point before she headed back west.

Throwing on the nicest robes she'd brought with her and running a comb through her knotted hair she left the inn in which she had stayed for just less than a week and made her way through the twilit Bolstrad streets. Though it was summer the old cobbled roads leant an eerie façade to the village in the dim light, a contrast with the scent of rose that drifted from the neat cottage gardens. The sun was just beginning to dip below the distant Carpathians when she reached the restaurant. She asked for a table out of the way, so as not to draw attention to the fact she dined alone and was shown to one on a small upstairs veranda that overlooked a small stream trickling into a dense forest.

Flicking through the book she's brought for company some thirty minutes later as she waited for her main course she was disturbed by a low voice behind her.

'Miss Granger!' it said, and of course she immediately recognised to whom it belonged, 'I thought you would have gone.' She turned around in her chair to see Snape, looking rather uncomfortable at the top of the stairway that lead back down into the main part of the restaurant.

'This is her?' another voice, thick with the local accent, questioned.

'This is her… why exactly are you still here?' Snape asked, fixing Hermione's gaze.

She noted how angry he looked before replying and adjusted her tone to suit. She had not come here to aggravate him. 'I'm leaving tomorrow,' she replied with a brief smile, 'for Moldova.'

'Moldova?' he questioned, his expression shifting.

'I thought I might travel a little before I head back to England.'

'Well…'

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

'Their wizarding communities are still plagued with dark magic, you should…'

Her eyebrow arched further still.

'… be careful,' he mumbled.

'Oh, well, thank you for you concern Severus,' she said, quenching the enjoyment she felt at his discomfort.

'You are on your own?' Snape's companion asked. Snape shot him a dark glance but the companion smiled wryly. 'My friend has done nothing but talk about you since you visited him. Perhaps we could join you, if it is not too imposing?'

'Fiers!' Snape grunted, stepping forwards and pushing the man behind him. 'Sorry,' he added to Hermione, 'I hope you have a good journey, goodbye.'

'You can join me,' Hermione said, smiling. She thought she might take the opportunity to glean some more information from Snape, maybe even try again to convince him to return to England with her. Anyway, she was still enjoying how unpleasant Snape was finding the whole scenario. All he had put her through at Hogwarts was not forgotten it seemed.

'No –' Snape said, moving towards the exit.

'Fantastic!' Fiers interjected, taking the chair opposite Hermione and summoning another from a nearby table for Snape.

'I'm going,' Snape said.

'You have order your food already,' Fiers said before turning to Hermione, 'my friend is such as… how do you say? Spoil sport. Is that right?'

'Quite,' Hermione laughed.

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. He moved forwards and slumped into the remaining chair. 'This is entirely inappropriate,' he said petulantly. 'I'm only staying because it wouldn't be fair to leave you in his company all night,' he added, jerking his head in Fiers's direction.

Fiers raised an eyebrow at Snape before turning his attentions to Hermione. 'So, 'Ermione… it is 'Ermione, yes?'

Hermione nodded. From the way he behaved Hermione deduced that Fiers must be about the same age as Snape, though he looked a little younger. He was a good-looking man with thick dark hair, kind features and was evidently well built. Apparently he worked in the apothecary in the village, where Snape had made his acquaintance whilst shopping for potions ingredients, and they often met for meals and drinks.

'You are not married, 'Ermione?' Fiers inquired after explaining somewhat about himself.

'No, no,' she assured him, 'I have a boyfriend though.'

'A lucky man!' Fiers chuckled. 'But unlucky for me.'

Not used to such flattery, or blatant attempts at flirtation, Hermione felt her cheeks redden and giggled like a schoolgirl. The conversation continued thus for some time. Hermione was polite but found it increasingly difficult as time went by to disguise the fact Fiers was at best a trifle irritating and she would be quite relieved when the night drew to its close. Respite did arrive along with their food, however, when the conversation temporarily diminished as they ate.

'You have room for dessert 'Ermione?' Fiers inquired the moment Hermione placed her cutlery together on her plate.

'Oh, I don't think so,' she replied, noting the relief in Snape's face. Apart from the odd interjected attempt to quieten Fiers, Snape had said hardly anything all night. He had sighed with exasperation when Fiers had asked Hermione about her time at Hogwarts and how she'd enjoyed Snape's teaching, and had smiled appreciatively at her diplomatic response. He had seemed embarrassed when Fiers repeatedly questioned Hermione about her love life and on more than one occasion had told his friend to change the subject, to which Hermione had smiled appreciatively. In fact, despite the fact he was not much of a conversationalist, Hermione was rather surprised to find that she had enjoyed his company over dinner. They had said more with their eyes, their clandestine glances and occasional knowing smirks, she thought, than Fiers had expressed in words all evening.

Feeling obliged Hermione remained at the table while Fiers had desserts and sipped at the coffee he insisted she have. It was dark by the time they left the restaurant and stood on the cobbles outside to say their farewells. After a prolonged moment in which Fiers expressed elaborate well wishes before heading back to his home in the north of Bolstrad, Hermione and Severus were left alone.

'I have to apologise for him,' Snape said once Fiers was out of earshot, 'he can be rather in your face if you're not expecting it.'

'No, he was fun. He clearly means well,' she replied.

'Indeed. Er, where are you staying?' he asked.

'The inn just down the way,' she said, pointing in the opposite direction to where Fiers had disappeared.

'I'll walk you back.'

'There's no need, Severus. I know the way.'

'It's not a question of you knowing the way. I can't have you walking around the streets on your own at night!'

'I got to Bolstrad all on my own, I think I'll make it a hundred yards down the road just fine, thank you!'

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 'I suppose,' he spoke again at length, 'that after seven years of protecting you and your friends at Hogwarts I can't escape the habit. I'll walk you back to the inn, Hermione.'

She was not sure what the tone of his voice as he said her name was suggesting, but it made her accept his proposal. 'OK,' she replied, hating, but unable to escape, the breathiness of her voice. They walked back to the inn in silence. When they arrived she turned to face him. 'Is there really nothing I can say that will make you come back to England?' she asked, hopefully.

'Hermione, I have plenty of money and here I have anonymity and liberty, the two things I most desired in all the time we were fighting that godforsaken war!' he said. 'My past is not something to be celebrated and here no one knows of my past, so they don't judge me by it,' he paused looking momentarily nostalgic and… was that sadness in his eyes? 'Dumbledore once told me,' he continued, 'that's it doesn't matter what a person is born; it's who they choose to be that does. Well here I can be the person I chose to be a long time ago but that in England I was never allowed to be because no one, other than Dumbledore, would ever forget that I'd been a Death Eater… Do you understand?'

Hermione looked at her old Potions master in the eye, for the first time since Harry had told her what he had seen of Snape's memories before the final battle, she felt overwhelmingly sorry for him. Without quite thinking about it she lunged forwards and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. He stood stiffly, unmoving, his arms by his sides, but he gave no indication that he wanted her to abate. After a long moment however she did, reluctantly, pull away. She placed her hands on his shoulders and met his gaze again. Then their heads dipped mutually and their lips softly grazed. It was not exactly a kiss but in that instant Hermione felt she understand Severus better than anyone ever had, as though he had disclosed to her his deepest and darkest secret, the very thing he had strived his entire life to keep locked away: his emotion.

'I understand,' she breathed as she pulled away again. Then she turned and swept swiftly into the inn.