Hello again!

Thank you to everyone who left comments on the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this update! :)

Disclaimer: No I do not own Harry Potter.

Rating/warnings: Please note the rating. This story is rated M for language and sexual content. There are also mentions of violence.

Chapter 4: Rope

This is promising… Hermione thought giddily as the tall wizard before her slipped his hands underneath her robes and pushed them off her shoulders. She moved her arms back onto his broad shoulders as her robes pooled to the floor. He moaned as his mouth slanted over hers, dark hair mixing with her riotous chestnut curls…

"Mmm… 'Ermionyyy…" A deep voice moaned between kisses.

Okay, so he pronounced her name a bit weird, but that's fine! Hermione fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and pressed her fingers to the skin underneath. Gods, she needed a man. She pulled him to her more aggressively and began to lead him towards the bedroom, almost tripping over their still half-full wineglasses in her haste.

"'Ermiony, would you like to try something a bit different?"

At least, that's what she thought he was saying. Hermione tore her lips from her visitor's neck and gaped at him. "Sorry, Jean. What?"

Jean, the French Auror working with British Ministry of Magic, had a very strong French accent. This was not the problem – in fact, Hermione found it incredibly sexy, hence the wine and heavy petting that was currently in progress. The problem was that he seemed to be stopping… the… kissing...

"Would you like to try something a little bit different?"

The particular emphasis on the last word made Hermione raise an eyebrow. As she had mentioned to Ginny, she didn't have anything against being adventurous in the bedroom. But somehow, instinctively, Hermione thought she had better listen carefully to this one before agreeing.

"Er – what did you have in mind?"

Jean smiled, the whites of his perfect teeth gleaming at her. Hermione almost sighed happily. As the daughter of two dentists, lovely teeth had the ability to make her swoon. He pulled out his wand and made a practised motion, a coil of rope appearing in his other hand.

Uh, okay…?

"Let your body surrender to me…"

"What – wait – what? You want to tie me up?" Hermione stared at the rope. "Er – I don't know about that… I have this thing about not being able to access my wand…"

"Come on, 'Ermionyy…" Jean moved closer, caressing her arm, starting to loop the rope around her.

Hermione pulled away, holding her hands in front of her and starting to shake them wildly. "No, no, I'm serious! Look, I'm really sorry to break the mood here, Jean. You're incredibly hot and I really want to have sex with you, but can we do it without anyone being tied up? It's just I have some… some rather uncomfortable memories from the War… and I'd really rather not, okay?"

Jean repeated his earlier sentiments with a slightly more pouty expression this time. Merlin, he was so handsome but so… annoyingly persistent. Hermione was certain that it wasn't a language issue - he understood her perfectly, she was sure. His English was better than her French would ever be, and she was Hermione Granger.

"Come on, Jean…" She flicked her wand at the rope in his hands and it Vanished. "Let's start again, shall we? I think I was here, and you were… here." She entwined her arms around his neck and attempted to resume kissing him.

Jean blinked at his sudden empty-handedness, and scowled down at her, pulling away from her kisses. Before Hermione could huff in annoyance, he had already conjured another rope. Jean looked at her meaningfully and pulled her back for a kiss.

The moment Hermione realised that he was still trying to tie her up, her patience snapped and she wrenched herself out of his arms (and his rope). "Stop it, Jean! I don't want to be tied up!"

"Stop being frigid, 'Ermiony!" Jean's handsome face twisted in an annoying scowl as he advanced upon her once again.

Hermione pushed him away and exclaimed loudly. "I am not being frigid! I told you, during the War…"

"Is it going to always be about the War with you, 'Ermiony? I heard you were the girl of the 'Arry Potter's Golden Trio… but I never knew you were so obsessed with the past…"

Fury flashed into Hermione's senses and left her mind blank with rage. Without being fully aware of it, she had Summoned her wand to her hand and aimed it directly at Jean's neck, the point digging into his pulse point. In his shock, Jean stood stock still, his rope still held between trembling fingers.

"Say another word, and I will hex you to oblivion." Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Jean opened and closed his mouth several times, but no words came out. He scrambled away from her and tossed some Floo powder into her fireplace with shaking fingers, whispering something inarticulate in his haste to leave. Green flames rushed upwards moments later, and the wizard disappeared.

"Shite!" Hermione stomped her foot angrily, frustration making her want to tear her hair out. She would be lying to herself if at least eighty percent of said frustration was sexual. Okay, maybe ninety. She didn't care that Jean was a jerk. Not at all! She just wanted to shag him! And to make it actually pleasurable this time!

She grumpily noted that she was even wearing lovely lace knickers this evening, in preparation to seduce a lovely man into her bed. Surely, surely if she bedded enough blokes she would find one who could give her the fireworks she so desired. To add to her frustration she knew she was aroused – she wanted this, had wanted Jean! With her other partners (and if she was terribly honest with herself, probably this one as well) – the tingle in her nether regions that she felt just before coupling was generally the highest point in the whole evening. Beyond that little tingle of excitement she generally felt… very little.

Hermione stomped over to her bed and flopped down onto it gracelessly, waving her wand to magic her jeans off her body, unthinkingly adding a charm to make them fold neatly at the foot of her bed. With her other hand, she gently snuck a finger into her underwear, pressing delicately against her intimate folds. Her skin was feverishly hot. Damnit! Hermione groaned with frustration. She was wet. Damn Jean and damn his cute arse. Why was he such an idiot? He should be in bed with her, learning his way around her body. She had promised herself that she would start navigating in bed more now, starting with "okay, here's how to make me feel good!" Jean was meant to be the beginning of a new chapter! Damnit! Damnit, again!

Groaning again, Hermione dipped her finger into her wetness. She was going crazy. Did people go crazy from a bad sex life? Was it possible? Her finger, coated in her moisture, moved slowly upwards until she reached her delicate bundle of nerves. Hermione hissed as she rubbed circles around her tight nub, back arching. As she circled it more insistently, her wand fell with a clatter out of her hand and onto the floor. Gripping the sheets with her now free wand hand, she whimpered, her fingers rubbing harder as she felt delicious warmth start to flow through her body. She bit her lip as her belly tightened – oh, so close…

A loud tinkling noise startled her and she jumped up, instinctively Summoning her wand and rushing to her living room. Her wards! Gods, she must have been so distracted that she hadn't thought to reset her wards after Jean left! Hermione forced her mind to clear as she formed a spell on her lips. An attacker? Worse, Death Eaters looking for vengeance? Harry and Ron always told her that she had to still be extra careful even though the War was over. Stupid. Stupid…! Hermione rushed into the living room with her wand raised, about to yell "Stupe-"

Brown eyes met black as she gasped in astonishment. "Snape!"

"Miss Granger!" He started at her sudden entrance. "Your Floo was unwarded, I was …"

Oh, Merlin's nostril hairs. Hermione's heart was still beating out of her chest. She gaped at him, wand still drawn.

"… concerned." His words seemed to dry out in his mouth as they stared at each other. As the seconds ticked past, colour diffused into Snape's pale cheeks and he tore his eyes away from her. Slowly lowering her wand, Hermione suddenly became remarkably aware of how the situation appeared. She was dressed in a dishevelled blouse and lacy knickers and she had just been –

His face in profile, Hermione could see Snape's nostrils flare. Oh gods, he could probably smell… Hermione flushed from her toes to the tips of her hair.

"Give me a minute!" She gasped out as she ran out of the living room to the relative safety of her bedroom. She cast a Cleansing Charm on herself and charmed her pants back on, attempting to fix her hair in the meantime. In her mind all she could think was Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, I just showed Severus Snape my lacy knickers…!

When she re-emerged into the living room, Snape was still looming awkwardly beside her fireplace. It was difficult to say who looked more mortified.

"Miss Granger, please accept my most sincere apologies for invading your privacy. I did not realise you had company. I will take my leave…" He was saying this with his face turned away from her, as if worried that she was still half-undressed. His normally silky baritone sounded slightly… pinched.

"No, I didn't have company." Hermione was immensely proud of herself that she managed to say this in a voice that was not overly shaky. The throb of the almost orgasm had vanished, leaving her with a generous dose of embarrassment. "Well, I did. But then he left. I forgot to reset my wards." Snape looked up, eyebrows furrowed. He was probably going to scold her for being so careless. Hermione continued quickly to avoid his ire. "Er – what are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh." Snape blinked and visibly collected himself. "A day ago we spoke of investigating potentially suspicious activities by former Death Eaters. To this end, I tracked as many of my former acquaintances as I could without drawing unnecessary attention. Fortunately for all of us, most of the members of the Dark Lord's inner circle are dead or in Azkaban." The last part was said in a stiff tone. Hermione winced as if she could read his thoughts. That could have been him. "But this evening, I discovered something that could be… pertinent."

Hermione met his eyes and waited for him to continue. She felt a tingling in her spine that always signalled to her before that something important was about to be done or said. His eyes, ink black, were clouded with memory as he continued. "Do you remember Theodore Nott, Miss Granger?"

She flung her mind back to Hogwarts days... Nott. Yes, she remembered him. Slytherin. A tall boy, thin and fairly reedy, shy and seemingly intelligent – although she had not known him well. A blurry memory of him talking to Draco flashed through her thoughts. "Yes… I think I remember him from Potions. He called me a Mudblood once."

"He would have. His father was a Death Eater."

"Was?" Hermione's throat was dry.

"He was killed in the Battle at Hogwarts." Snape paused and looked closely at Hermione. "His son, Theodore, was raised in a Dark house, with Dark magic. Theodore himself was not a Death Eater, but he was most certainly a follower of the Dark Lord."

"You think he would know how the incantations to create the bomb!" Hermione said excitedly. "We should speak with him! Harry can –"

Snape stopped her by lifting a long-fingered hand. "Miss Granger, Theodore Nott is dead."

"What?" This was confusing. Okay, calm down… calm… Wait. "Why… why did you come here to tell me that?"

"He was killed yesterday evening, in Knockturn Alley. There was apparently a street brawl. There were a variety of inventive Dark curses flying about and so some of the victims were… not immediately recognisable. But one of the dead was certainly Nott the junior. It was confirmed earlier this evening."

"Right…" Hermione paced as thoughts whizzed through her mind. "Right. You think that his death was not an accident." The last part was not phrased as a question.

The tall wizard nodded slowly. "The timing is somewhat… coincidental. I have recently been alerted to a potential crime that requires Dark magic. I have no doubt that Nott Sr. would have known the Dark incantations necessary to create a magical bomb, and it is probable that he would have passed on such knowledge to his son. And now, in a curious turn of events, Theodore Nott is dead. I thought I should inform you immediately. Although, perhaps I should have used less… intrusive means. I thought the news could not wait and you gave me your Floo access in case I discovered something important…" Snape looked back at Hermione, and to her embarrassment, he blushed again. He had been rambling towards the end.

"Oh. Don't worry about it. My job comes first." It was perhaps a testament to how sad her life was that she could make such a statement with complete truthfulness. Damnit. Draco was right! My life is sad! Hermione bent over to pick up the abandoned bottle of wine and glasses, intending to offer some to her surprise visitor. As she moved to do so, she saw a length of discarded rope lying on the floor. The sight alone was almost enough to make her see red again. "Shite! I cannot believe that bloody prat left his stupid rope here!" Aiming her wand at the offending object, Hermione contemplated setting it on fire, before opting for a more discreet Evanesco. She didn't want to singe her carpets, after all.

Realising that she was probably appearing somewhat mad to the other person in her sitting room, Hermione gave an embarrassed smile and picked up the wine bottle. "Er – may I offer you some wine?" She used a quick Cleansing Charm on the glass Jean had used and held it in Snape's direction. He stared at her and the wine for a moment before giving an elegant what-the-hell-why-not shrug and taking the glass.

"I assume there is a story about that rope." Snape held out his glass for Hermione to slosh a generous serving into it.

"Only that I should not invite men into my house just because they're handsome and willing to sh- uh, sleep with me." Hermione began to wonder why she felt comfortable telling her former Potions Professor details about her personal life. Eh – he's here, and he asked. "Just this one was into some bondage thing that I was not into – I told him that I don't want to be tied up because I am really uncomfortable with not being able to access my wand, given some… select memories from the not too distant past. And do you know what he did? That dolt made some stupid comment about me being frigid and obsessed with fame because I'm the girl of the Golden Trio. What a jerk! Does he not understand what consent means?"

"I hope you hexed him." Snape's dark eyes were narrowed. Hermione was struck by how intimidating that expression made him appear.

"Didn't have to." Hermione poured herself a glass and seated herself. "The threat was sufficient."

"Your reputation precedes you, then." Snape said, looking strangely pleased, as he took the seat opposite her.

Hermione's sitting room was small and relatively spartan. By far, the most arresting features were the shelves of ceiling-high bookcases covering each wall. Each individual tome had been magically shrunk to make room for more books, and also carefully indexed to allow for quick referencing. After first seeing her book collection, Harry and Ron had both said that she should have been a librarian instead of an MLE officer. Hermione disagreed – if anything, she disliked other people handling her books. She thought that Madam Pince at Hogwarts showed remarkable restraint in not hexing the students who roughly thumbed through (or worse, creased) her precious library books.

Besides the shelves, there were two chairs, both currently occupied, a small table covered in books, and the fireplace. Crookshanks' basket lay in the corner – her familiar was nowhere to be seen. Probably he had gone hunting or so. Hermione rarely worried about him. The half-Kneazle was more than capable of caring for himself, and he could get past her wards.

"What are we going to do about Nott?" Hermione asked quietly, half to herself, cradling the glass of wine in her hands. Her earlier rage at Jean had vanished and there was now a steadily rising sense of dread pooling in her gut.

Snape did not answer. He stared at her fireplace, the dancing flames reflected in his obsidian eyes. Hermione felt the sudden compulsion to study his profile, the harsh lines of his face softened by the light of the fire. With shorter hair, Snape looked almost approachable. The very idea would have seemed absurd ten years ago, back when he had dark curtains of hair framing his face, hiding black eyes that glared at anyone who passed. His hooked nose still dominated his features, but somehow it suited him. Hermione couldn't imagine him with a smaller nose. The very idea almost made her start giggling.

"Something funny, Miss Granger?" The question, although asked in a neutral tone, brought back memories of Snape as Professor of Potions so profoundly that Hermione had to take a large gulp of wine to cover the laughter that threatened to escape.

"No. It's just been a crazy day." It had been, truly. After she and Snape had returned to the Ministry to record his interview with Narcissa Malfoy, she had had to retrieve his memory of their encounter for MLE records and make a formal report. She had then pored over records of all still-living, non-incarcerated Death Eaters and their known associates, desperately trying to determine if any of them could be their mysterious would-be bomber. After hitting a brick wall with that – at that point she hadn't come across Nott junior or senior – she had moved on to trying to figure out how one would organise such a scheme at Gringotts that would fool even the Goblins. Unfortunately, that assignment required Hermione to brush up on her Gobbledegook in order to read Goblin texts detailing the policies at Gringotts. Given that Hermine knew only about three words in Gobledegook, there wasn't very much there already for her to brush up on… So much for being the know-it-all.

And to top things off, tonight there was Jean.

To make matters more complicated, Hermione was still trying to decide how to organise a meeting with Harry at the Auror department to get his assistance – it wasn't as though she thought that Harry would not be helpful, he certainly would. It was more that she was unclear how to broach the subject to him on a case that was so… vague. So far, they had no evidence to definitively show that someone was trying to make a bomb. Their one lead, Narcissa Malfoy, had come back empty. And of course, they were missing the first thing that any investigator would ask about in a criminal inquiry – motive.

Why would someone order the ingredients required to make a magical bomb, attempt to frame somebody else – the wife of a prominent former Death Eater, and a former Death Eater herself, no less – and yet not reveal an agenda? Were they waiting for the aftermath of the attack? Hermione was no expert at terrorism, but there seemed little use planning something as elaborate as a bomb attack without suggesting who was responsible or before declaring some kind of manifesto. When Voldemort was in power, he used the Dark Mark as a symbol of terror and power. He named his followers Death Eaters to frighten the Wizarding world. Where was the "Dark Mark" of this supposed terrorist? Who were their Death Eaters? Too many things were missing from this case. And yet, Hermione was sure that if they did not act, something terrible was about to happen.

Strange that she now thought of Snape and herself as they – a team – not two disparate individuals: MLE officer and freelance potions-maker. Perhaps she was making amends for how they treated him during the War. Back then, they had pushed him away because they were convinced that he could not be trusted. Now, she pulled him close because she was certain that he could.

Strange also that she couldn't help staring at him whenever she had the opportunity. Hermione chose not to examine that thought too closely.

"I thought perhaps we should determine if Nott had any close acquaintances." Snape said, his deep baritone interrupting her thoughts. "It is possible that he masterminded the whole scheme and with him dead, we no longer have anything to worry about... but I have a… feeling that we are not out of trouble yet."

"Yes, I can certainly look into Nott's known associates." Hermione considered how Snape would feel if she poured herself another glass of wine. "I'm seeing Harry in a few days at the Weasley get-together. I'll find a way to discreetly get his ear."

There was a brief pause before Snape spoke again. "How is Potter?"

Hermione almost laughed again at the way Snape said Harry's name. Well, at least he no longer said it like Harry was an insect that he wanted to squash. Now it just sounded like Snape was trying very hard not to clench his teeth.

In response, she couldn't resist Summoning the latest photograph that she had of the Potters. Ginny was cradling little James in her arms as Harry looked on adoringly at the two of them. In the Wizarding photograph, James was yawning. Hermione loved that picture. She could watch James yawn over and over again… and sometimes did, on especially trying days at the Ministry. She handed it to Snape, who took it from her with unveiled interest.

"James is my godson." Hermione beamed as Snape studied the photograph. At the mention of the littlest Potter's name, Snape winced.

"Another James Potter." Oops. Hermione hadn't realised how this would appear to her former Potions teacher, and schoolmate of James Potter the senior. "Well, he is a beautiful child. Congratulations to the Potters. And to the child's godmother, too, of course."

"Yes, well, we're getting side-tracked." Hermione took the picture back and set it back on the shelf with a quick flick of her wand. She felt suddenly guilty that she had inadvertently reminded Snape of his horrible past. Pouring herself more wine for courage, she continued. "There are a couple of things that I think we could follow up on. First, we need to figure out how the whole debacle took place at Gringotts. Second, we need to find out more about Theodore Nott's recent history. Where he's been seen, where he lives… all of that."

"For the first point, I doubt the Goblins would be willing to share more information with me." If Snape was confused by the sudden change in topic, he didn't show it. "I've already collected two favours from them. I thought perhaps… William Weasley would be more forthcoming, particularly if you were to call on him."

Huh. Bill Weasley. He might be persuaded to share some of Gringotts' inner secrets with her… And if that failed, he was sure to be a dab hand at Gobbledegook.

"That's a great idea. I'll get in touch with Bill. Perhaps I'll even see him at the Burrow." Hermione sipped her wine and used her wand to float the bottle closer to Snape. He acquiesced to a small refill. "I don't suppose you have some means of finding out what Nott has been up to recently, do you?"

"In the morning I planned to make some discreet enquiries in Knockturn Alley as to where Nott resided before his unfortunately early demise. From what I have heard about his recent activities, it is likely that he lived in the area. I will… er - send an owl to your office at the Ministry when I have the location."

Hermione winced. He was probably worried that if he showed up to visit her unannounced, he might once again find her in a compromising position. "That would be perfect." She paused, trying to think of the right words to say without sounding like an idiot. "Pr- Mr Snape. I am very sorry that I didn't… er… meet you properly earlier this evening. Rest assured I am not normally that brainless. It had just been… a difficult day."

Snape gave her a small smile and his eyes twinkled (have they ever done that before?), thankfully not blushing this time. "You needn't apologise, Miss Granger. It was wrong of me to arrive unexpectedly at your home, where you are permitted to do whatever you wish. I merely assumed that since I usually spend the evenings alone in my home, that others are also similarly inclined. It was my mistake, and I should be the one to apologise. However, do not leave your wards down again. Constant vigilance, remember."

"Yes, I won't." Sir, she added mentally. "Wait. You spend your evenings alone… so you're not seeing someone?" Snape shook his head, squinting at her in mild confusion. "Merlin's beard. You should have seen last month's issue of Witch's Weekly. According to them you are quite the eligible wizard... I could write to them and tell them that you're still available. You would have a line of witches outside your door in no time."

Snape burst into a sudden laugh. To her surprise, it was a deep, rich sound. Hermione couldn't remember ever hearing such a sound from him. Somehow she found it wonderful, and she had the childish urge to say something funny to make him laugh again.

"Miss Granger, why are you reading such rubbish?"

"Well, Ginny writes about Quidditch news for a living, so she gets a free subscription to a few periodicals. Witch's Weekly is one of our favourite catch-up mags. It's so remarkably free of substance, and yet we can pore over the articles for ages. Mostly to laugh at, mind you, before you judge me too harshly." She smiled sheepishly at Snape, who raised an eyebrow at her. Hermione almost shuddered at the sight of that eyebrow again. At least this time it was done in good humour.

"If they consider me an eligible wizard, then I must seriously doubt the sanity of whoever wrote that article, Miss Granger. Clearly it was someone who has never met me, so not a graduate of Hogwarts for the past twenty or so years that I taught there – hence, it would be, in addition to aforementioned insanity, a witch or wizard with an unacceptably incomplete education."

Hermione giggled. It must be the wine, she thought. How odd that she should feel so comfortable in the company of Severus Snape. She used to find him uncommonly intimidating, although he probably used that façade to prevent people from prying too deeply into his life. Now that he had little to hide, he seemed pleasingly relaxed. "Actually, they have a few gems… like this quiz that Ginny cut out and gave to me. It's meant to tell you what kind of person is your type." Hermione made air quotes around the word "type". Snape just looked confused. "Oh come on, Mr Snape. Surely you did quizzes like these back at school." With a small flick of her wand, a crumpled piece of paper flew into her hand.

"As someone who has seen my old Potions textbook, I think you might have a very good idea of what I spent my schooldays doing." Snape said wryly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows back at him but otherwise ignored his comment. "Ahem – here it is, 'How to find your soul-mate in ten questions.' Question one… What colour hair do you prefer on your potential soul-mate?"

"Miss Granger…"

"Please, just humour me. It's been a long day." Hermione gave him her best pleading expression. Snape rolled his eyes and sipped his wine.

"Fine, impudent witch. Blonde."

"Really? I would have thought…"

"Miss Granger."

"Right, sorry. Okay, question two – What body type do you prefer on your potential soul-mate?"

"…Circe help me." Snape had pressed a hand to his face.

"Busty? Curvy? Voluptuous? Come on, Snape, chose something."

"Let us go with… all of the above." He didn't seem to mind that she had dropped the formality from his name.

At his answer, Hermione couldn't help but look down at her own figure. On most days, she could be described as skinny. Ginny preferred to say 'slender', or 'athletic', since those words sounded more complimentary. But that didn't change anything - no bustiness nor curves nor voluptuousness here. Hermione dismissed her thoughts as being ludicrous and continued reading.

"Okay. Question three…"

"Enough, Miss Granger!" Snape glared at her and Hermione put away the ridiculous quiz, giggling. It was a rather tame glare, by Snape standards. There was even a curl of amusement at the tail of it. He had certainly mellowed over the years. Hermione wondered vaguely why he was still single. Surely some witches out there wanted a tall, brooding Potions Master with a penchant for sarcasm to keep them warm at night.

"This quiz seems to assume that one's "soul-mate", as they have so cavalierly put it, depends primarily on physical appearance. If that were truly the case, then you should know that I will be doomed to a life of eternal solitude."

Hermione burst into a peal of laughter that she tried to muffle with her sleeve. She was not particularly successful. "You are too harsh upon yourself, Mr Snape."

"You are too kind, Miss Granger." Snape replied, with an exaggerated bow of his head in her direction. "I suppose you have completed this absurd quiz. You were always quite proficient at quizzes in Hogwarts."

"Oh, I'm not interested in a soul-mate." Hermione paused, tilting her head. Without thinking, she blurted out. "Do you believe in soul-mates, Mr Snape?"

She winced as soon as the words escaped her lips. What a stupid question. But Snape when didn't immediately dismiss her as she expected, Hermione held her breath and waited for his answer. He was staring down at his wine glass, swirling the scarlet liquid left inside. Somehow all the energy in the room seemed to be suddenly focussed on the wizard before her. He appeared to be lost in thought.

"Love has power." He said, finally.

"Yes… I know."

Hermione wasn't sure if they were talking about the same thing.

Hermione was surrounded by red hair. Everywhere she turned, red. It was dizzying. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be amongst the Weasley family. The moment she had walked through the door, she had been accosted by Ginny Potter and taken to the family sitting room, the wine she had brought with her swiftly whisked out of her hands. As she took a breath to orient herself with her new surroundings, Arthur Weasley had come by and kissed both her cheeks, with a brief how lovely to see you again, Hermione, it's been too long… before he had been distracted by his grandson's high-pitched squalling.

Her mind still in a whirl, Hermione barely noticed Harry's hand on her elbow. She turned and smiled at her best friend, his black hair still messy as ever, green eyes sparkling behind dark-framed glasses. "How are you, love?" Harry inquired, Summoning a glass of water and passing it to her. "You've been busy at work."

She had been. Tracking down known associates of former Death Eater's (and their sons) proved more difficult than Hermione had imagined. Not unexpectedly, given the negativity surrounding the Death Eater image, Voldemort's former followers kept very low profiles.

Not to mention her Gobbledegook hadn't improved.

"Yes." The word dragged out of her like a sigh. Snape still hadn't found out the location of Nott junior's residence. He had owled her the day before to say that he was making progress and hoped to have the exact address in a day or two. Hermione hoped desperately that he was doing better than she in tracking down their purported criminal. "I might need your help, actually… but not right now. I'll send you a note at the Ministry, tomorrow."

"Anything I can do to help, just ask." Harry squeezed her arm gently. "Would you like to see George?"

She nodded in the affirmative, smiling in what she hoped did not betray her nervousness. Harry led her out of the living room and into the back garden. In the dim light afforded by the floating lights dancing around them, she saw a lanky figure standing alone, watching magical garden gnomes chase each other around the hydrangeas. George's figure was slightly stooped, his hands wedged firmly into his pockets despite the mild summer weather. Hermione held her breath as she approached him for the first time in five years. He looked up as they approached, and to her great relief, the wizard smiled slowly when he noticed her coming.

"Hermione." George opened his arms and she hugged him gently. "How are you?"

"Good. Fine." Hermione blinked back tears as she looked at him properly. George's hair was long and fairly unkempt, but behind the red fringe she saw a familiar twinkle in his eyes. She noticed that his hair hid the scar left behind from his missing ear. "How… how about you?"

"I'm alright." George said, releasing her slowly. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is back in business, as you may have heard. Ron helped me start the business again two years ago and… well, now I'm back in the shop."

"Good. Good." Hermione couldn't seem to stop repeating that word. She brushed the unshed tears from her eyes as she smiled at George. "I'll have to come by the shop again soon. Maybe to get something for little James."

George chuckled softly. "We'll make a right prankster out of him yet."

Hermione wasn't sure who he meant by we, but she smiled back anyway. "Are you alright running the shop by yourself now that Ron's back working with the Aurors? I don't hear from him often but when he writes to me it seems that he's been spending a lot of time in America."

"Yeah, Ron drops by when he can, but it's been mainly me by myself recently. Business started off fairly slow when we… restarted, but now that it's picking up I find myself busier than ever. Might need to hire some help at some point… but for now I'm happy handling things by myself. I don't really want someone outside the family involved. We always wanted things to stay inside the family."

Again, she wasn't sure who George meant when he said we, but she decided not to pursue it. Probably he meant him and Ron. "It's great to hear that you're enjoying being busy."

"Yeah, thanks – and now I've gone back into developing new sweets… remember all the fun we had at Hogwarts with those things?"

Hermione laughed. Skiving Snackboxes… how could she ever forget those? She was about to reminisce further with George when she saw him make eye contact with someone over her shoulder. Hermione turned around to see another familiar red-headed man coming towards them, grinning.

"Ronald!"

"So how're you doing, love?"

George had run off with a quick talk to you later, mate mumbled to his brother and an affectionate wink to Hermione, leaving them alone in the garden to catch up. Hermione was glad to see Ron again. Glad and relieved - it had been months since their last meeting and although she knew her friend to be eminently capable, Auror work was dangerous. Now that Ron was working closely with the American Aurors, he had hardly been back in England for the past year, and the long distance meant that they could only exchange letters via the not particularly convenient Floo-mail. She had missed him. Sure they weren't a couple anymore, but that didn't change the fact that they were best friends.

"Busy with work." Hermione made a face. "I wish I could say something more exciting, but I really can't. How was America?"

"Eh, not too bad. The work is interesting and keeps me totally knackered. Apart from that I'm getting used to American food." Ron looked over at her with a sly grin. "But you do have interesting news, don't you? Harry told me that you met Snape at work recently. Snape. Does this mean you're working together?"

"Yes, I did meet Snape and yes we are working together, but I can't really… give you much detail about what we're actually working on, sadly." Hermione leaned back against the wall and relaxed her shoulders for what felt like the first time in a week. All that time bent over parchment was giving her a muscle ache.

"So how's the old bat of the dungeons, anyway?"

"Ron!"

"I mean it in an affectionate way this time!" Ron grinned at her and Hermione grinned back because she knew it was true. Arthur Weasley had saved Snape at the Shrieking Shack because a not insignificant part of him knew that Snape was on their side, even after Dumbledore's death. And after the truth had come out about Snape's role in the war, the Weasley family had been some of his most vocal supporters. Although Severus Snape had been award Order of Merlin, First Class, for his sacrifices during the war, there were still many who thought that he was nothing more than a malicious Death Eater who had tricked the Ministry into pardoning his crimes. Ron and his family always made the effort to quash any unsavoury rumours about Snape that they heard, and weren't afraid to be confrontational about it, considering the famous Weasley temper.

"Snape's fine. He looks pretty healed up after that horrible bite from Nagini. He could probably duel the hell out of me. To be honest, he could probably duel the hell out of you and Harry."

"Both at the same time with a hand tied behind his back, most likely."

"No doubt." Hermione's mind drifted back to the evening when Snape had unexpectedly arrived at her flat. She coloured slightly as she remembered how they had gaped at each other in surprise, his dark eyes roving over her half-undressed form before turning away in embarrassment. Hermione changed the subject quickly before Ron could notice her blush. "I just had a quick chat with George. I have to say he looks really much better since the last time I saw him. But to be fair that was years ago."

"Yeah I've been pleasantly surprised myself, actually. A few years ago all he wanted to do was stay in bed the whole day. After we dragged him out of his room and started him back on his joke shop, he seemed to find some life in him again. He even manages to talk about Fred sometimes."

Hermione couldn't help but notice the small hitch in Ron's voice as he mentioned his deceased brother's name. She felt a pang in her heart as she remembered how desperately sad they had all felt when they realised that they would never hear Fred's joking laugh again, especially poor George.

"He also seems pretty busy." She said, trying to lighten the maudlin atmosphere. "He's running the whole shop by himself?"

"Seems so." Ron said, suddenly thoughtful. "I've been too preoccupied with Auror stuff to really pitch in, or to pay attention to what he's really up to, but it seems to me that he's been very busy lately. Lots of research, he said. I think he's got some new products up his sleeve that he wants to spring on us as a surprise."

"Gods have mercy." Hermione said, laughing. "I'd better watch my food tonight."

They lapsed into comfortable silence. After a moment, the sound of an infant crying permeated the still atmosphere. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and exchanged knowing smiles. "I can't believe Harry is a dad." Ron mused. "It doesn't seem that long ago that we were all kids ourselves."

"Don't I know it…. But you know what? If I could bypass the need for a mate in order to have a baby, I'd have one right now. Babies are just so adorable!" Hermione said, smiling as she thought about her godson.

The tall red-head turned to look curiously at Hermione. "Er- 'Mione… don't take this the wrong way but… Are you seeing anyone currently?"

"Uh… no. Are you?"

Ron shook his head and grimaced, tilting his head in the direction of his family home. "So, how do you want to handle this?"

"Handle what?" Hermione's eyes widened as it clicked in her head. "Oh no. Your mother…"

"…hasn't given up that we made a huge mistake breaking up." Ron finished her sentence, smiling sheepishly. "Do you want me to have a pretend girlfriend? Or do you want to have the pretend boyfriend? Just quick, tell me a name so that we can…"

A loud shout for dinner interrupted their sneaky plans and Ron and Hermione exchanged another look. Molly Weasley was a force unto herself, and if she decided that her son and Hermione Granger were destined to be together, then she would force them together whether they liked it or not. Hermione shrugged and made towards the house. Whatever she had to endure from Molly in terms of lectures about her love life this evening, as least she got to eat her excellent cooking. That was surely worth any suffering she might have to experience.

"You could just tell Mum that you're shagging the great old Dungeon Bat." Ron said, grinning mischievously. "To be honest I think he's the only bloke who Mum wouldn't dare try to break you up with to get us back together."

"Ronald!" Hermione smacked him on the arm and they both laughed.

Shagging the Dungeon Bat indeed. How preposterous, Hermione thought, smiling to herself.

…foreshadowing? ;)

This chapter also wasn't meant to be so long but Snape and Hermione just kept on chatting and they wouldn't stop! Blame them, not me.

And yeah, Hermione's steamy encounter wasn't what most of you expected, I'm guessing. But surely you knew that it wasn't going to be with Snape! Yet…

;)