The next time Harry was back in London, the summer holiday was drawing to a close. Master Ailin had returned to the school, and Harry would join her there on the first of September. He was technically supposed to have gone with her, but she had decided he'd earned a vacation of his own. Her claim had been that she would be just too busy with preparing for the school year. She and Harry had had a good laugh over that before she explained that she really just wanted to give him a break from doing her research for her. This was followed by a warning that his assignments during the school year would be much more difficult than he'd yet experienced, since they wouldn't be able to do any practical work outside of her classes.

As a preemptive strike, Harry was using his two weeks of vacation to slowly work his way through one of the three reading lists he'd compiled. Each was a list of books she'd recommended while they were either beating their way through a forest, trudging across a dangerous landscape, or, at one point, camping under the stars in the Australian Outback. That had been a fun adventure, in spite of the imp infestation they were helping an Aboriginee tribe get rid of. They'd lost a lot of supplies to those blasted little blighters.

Harry was laboriously reading through a German text on Medieval Defense techniques, with the help of a translation spell, when Hermione appeared suddenly at Grimmauld. Harry hardly took notice of her intrusion into the library as he copied notes and questions onto a piece of parchment. Only when his book was snatched out of his hands did he look up. He grinned upon seeing his friend.

"Hey, Rabbit, what're you doing here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she dog-eared his page and closed the book in her hands. "Remus firecalled me when he realized his methods weren't working."

Harry frowned. "Methods?"

"Of getting you to relax," Hermione explained, shifting the scrolls of notes Harry had compiled beside him so she could sit on the couch. Her hand slipped into his in his lap. "Harry, this is an intervention."

The look on her face was so serious that Harry almost felt bad about laughing until she joined in.

Hermione shoved his shoulder. "I'm serious, you prat!" She stood up, his hand still in hers, and tugged at him. "Come on. You need to get out of this house and away from your books. You'll go cross-eyed if you stare at them any longer."

Harry grinned and stood up. "Hermione Granger, telling me to stop studying? What have I done to deserve this?" He drew her into a hug. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, Harry," The witch murmured, rubbing his back gently. "It seems like I hardly saw you at all this summer. And I'll see you even less once you go back to Hogwarts."

"Not if I can help it," Harry said, pulling away to look into his friends shimmering brown orbs. "We'll have to make a plan; every second Saturday of the month, or something, where we'll get together. And we've always got the floo. I can call you every night if you want, or you could call me."

Hermione smiled. "We'll definitely have to do that." She brightened and moved to his side, linking her arm with his. "For now, however, you and I are going to do something that doesn't involve books. I've done nothing but spend the last month staring at Wizard Law for Madame Bones, and you definitely need a break from Defense for a bit."

"Alright, deal. Suggestions?"

"Um…I hate to say Diagon Alley, but I really don't know where else to go," Hermione admitted lightly.

Harry chuckled and patted her arm wrapped around his. He checked his watch, his eyes widening slightly at how much time had passed. He'd missed lunch without even realizing it. Turning, the Wizarding Savior smiled a little mischievously.

"Well, it's late enough to eat dinner. If you like, there's a really nice restaurant just a few blocks from here, or we could just go down to the kitchen and I can see how much better you've gotten at cooking," Harry suggested.

His friend grimaced. "Nothing edible, yet, but I am getting better. I've only been using magic to help, instead of doing the work for me. I eat a lot of takeout. A real restaurant sounds lovely, especially since the goal is to get you out of Grimmauld."

The Wizarding Savior gave a stiff nod, smiled, and they started out of the library arm-in-arm.

-Break-

Harry smiled when Hermione moaned in pleasure over her plate of Italian.

"Oh, this smells so much better than reheated khung pao chicken," She said, groaning slightly.

Harry chuckled into his own food. "Why are you eating so much takeout? Your mum stop cooking for you?"

Hermione looked surprised. "I didn't tell you? I moved out of my parents' house. They helped me get a very nice flat here in London. I actually meant to get a smaller flat, but Mum and Dad helped me get a larger one with money they'd set aside for university, since I'm obviously not going to Muggle schools anymore and the larger flat was closer to work. It didn't matter how much I explained about apparating, they just kept insisting. Now I'm in a three bedroom monstrosity, and I've no idea what to do with all the space. I've already started work on turning one of the bedrooms into a library, but it'll be another month before I finish unpacking everything. Mum even helped me pick out some really nice furniture, and Dad found a bunch of bookshelves at a second-hand shop. I can't believe I didn't mention that."

"You did not," Harry said, feigning hurt. He smiled wryly. "But I'm happy for you all the same."

"Thanks," Hermione murmured a little bashfully. "Now, we should probably actually eat our food, instead of simply sitting here and torturing ourselves with the smell."

Harry chuckled and for the next several minutes they ate in silence. His mind drifted to the research he'd been doing before they'd left Grimmauld. He had so many questions about that particular text. He began mentally writing the letter he would post to Master Ailin. She would probably write back that research was not what she'd meant about taking a vacation, but hopefully she'd answer his questions all the same. It no longer came as a surprise, that he had such a driving desire for learning Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his curiosity was in constant need of being fed.

"There's something else I didn't mention in my letters," Hermione said lightly halfway through the meal.

Harry hummed thoughtfully. "Yeah?" He was only half-paying her any mind, still mentally writing his letter to his Master.

"Oh, yes," Hermione assured him, her tone still nonchalantly mild. "You see, a few days before I moved out of my parents' house I was feeling terribly nostalgic about that wonderful summer we spent together last year. My things were all packed, and I had nothing to do, really, so I decided to walk down to the park. I met this lovely woman there; a Squib, it turned out. She just walked over to me where I was sitting, said she recognized me from the one time I went with you last summer."

"That must have been interesting. She must have a great memory for faces," Harry said, taking a bite of his chicken parm.

"Oh, yes," Hermione said again. "In fact, she asked me where that 'nice lad' was, the one she'd seen every morning for a whole summer. I explained that you were the Harry Potter, and that you were busy with an apprenticeship. I hope you don't mind that I told her that much."

"Not at all," Harry said, unsure where this was headed.

"Anyway," Hermione continued. "Then she said she hadn't seen Professor Snape in a while, either." Harry winced. Uh-oh. Hermione's eyes narrowed. "So, of course, I asked what he had to do with the price of tea in china, and she said that the two of you had spent most every morning sitting on the very bench I'd stopped at, sipping coffee and chatting like old friends. She said it was the weirdest thing, because she'd known Snape since she was a kid, and had never seen him being so amiable with anyone before. I thought that was very interesting, since you told me last summer that you didn't see that man, who looked so much like our beloved Potions Master, again."

Harry swallowed thickly under his friend's hard gaze. "Technically, I said I'd seen him once or twice," He excused, trying to bring levity to the situation. Hermione's gaze hardened. "I-I'm sorry, 'Mione, really, I just didn't-"

Hermione lifted a hand, stopping him. "Don't, Harry. I don't care if you want to keep secrets from me, it's your right. I'm more bothered by the fact that you lied to me. You could have admitted it was Snape and still kept whatever happened between you to yourself."

"I didn't know how," Harry mumbled apologetically. "I swear, I didn't want to lie to you, I just didn't know how to tell you the truth without telling you the whole truth. And, to be honest, I didn't want to tell you the whole truth. I thought…well, I don't know what I thought. It was sort of like…meeting with him every morning was so surreal, and if I mentioned it out loud, it would make actually real. I wasn't ready for it to be real."

Hermione's gaze softened. "Oh, Harry…I know you have secrets. Who doesn't? It just hurt, finding out from a complete stranger that you'd been hiding something as big as that from me."

"I know," Harry mumbled. He hesitated. "And, in the interest of full disclosure, my morning walks with Severus didn't end with the summer. That time I woke you up when you fell asleep in the Common Room, I wasn't up because of a nightmare. I'd been meeting with Severus every morning before sunrise to walk the grounds."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said, touching his hand on the table. "Is there anything else? In the interest of full disclosure?"

Harry blushed. He thought of the silent evenings he and Severus had spent in the Restricted Section. Thought of the times he'd escaped to the semi-hidden corridor he'd adopted, and spilled the woes of his teenage life to his silent companion. He thought about how their hands had fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. And he thought about the kisses that had shattered his naivety as his time as a student came to a close. He shook his head. A lie of omission, in this instance, was not a lie.

"No, I haven't lied about anything else," He told his friend quietly.

The intelligent witch across from him raised an eyebrow doubtfully. She knew that there was certainly more that he was keeping from her, but she seemed to accept that he hadn't really outright lied to her. He turned his eyes to his plate, lest she see the other truths hidden in his bright emeralds. He'd be the first to admit that his eyes read like an open book, especially to Hermione Granger.

She sighed. "Well, alright. I'm sorry I pressed you. Like I said, you're allowed to have secrets, and I hope one day you'll tell me everything, but I won't push you." She paused. Harry briefly thought of promising to tell her the truth someday, but knew he couldn't. "I am curious about one thing, though."

"What's that?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"What's this 'Severus' business?"

Harry chuckled. "Um…nothing, really; just a Freudian slip. He'd probably kill me if he caught me calling him by his first name without permission."

"I'm not so sure about that," Hermione said, smiling. "You spent so much time together last year…You're friends, aren't you?"

Harry's smile dissolved into a frustrated scowl, making his friend frown as well.

"I…I honestly don't know."