Summer with the Grangers was not the relaxing affair Hermione had been hoping for. It had been, however, the catalyst for some important revelations, not the least of which was that in all likelihood, she would not be going back to her childhood home until Voldemort was vanquished once and for all. While her parents could not fully appreciate the evilness or power Voldemort possessed, that he posed a threat to Hermione's life was enough to make them want to pack up and move away. It was the best bet they had for staying alive- but there was no power, magical or otherwise, that could make Hermione leave Harry and the Order. The greater good was no longer an abstract concept. She would play her part, and if her life was on the line, then so be it. Jean Granger had not taken the news well. Not that it mattered at the moment- Hermione's parents were halfway across the globe, with no memory of their daughter. Hugging Crookshanks closer to her, she sniffled as the Knight Bus made its way through London. There was still a week to go until she was expected at Grimmauld, but the "renovation" should be over by now, and she had nowhere else to go. The Weasleys were on holiday, so she couldn't go to the Burrow, and Hogwarts was closed to students during the summer.

"Hermione! This is a pleasant surprise- come in, come in!"

"Thanks, Remus. Is Sirius around?"

"He's checking up on Harry as Snuffles, he should be home in a couple of hours. Do you want help with your trunk?"

"I'll manage, thanks."

Remus closed the door behind her, ushering her into the kitchen. The house didn't seem to have changed much, besides being much less gloomy than she remembered. Someone had added charmed windows.

"Sit down, I'll put the pot on… You look exhausted, Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I thought the house would be different, Dumbledore said there'd be some work done…"

"Not much has changed in terms of cosmetics, I'm afraid. But I'll show you around later, there are a couple of new floors, a makeshift greenhouse and a potions lab. And a proper meeting room. You won't be getting Extendable Ears into this one. Not that you need to, any more…"

A cup of steaming fennel tea hovered in mid-air before her.

"The extra floors I understand, there's going to be a lot more people staying here… but why a potions lab? Surely the one at Hogwarts-"

"Wolfsbane, Hermione." He smiled gently. "Professor Snape is kind enough to brew it for me. And I understand Dumbledore has requested some… other potions that it would not do to brew under the eyes of so many at Hogwarts."

"Oh. Does- does Professor Snape brew here often?"

Remus quirked an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "I don't see much of him." He paused, and Hermione fought not to squirm under his gaze. Remus Lupin was rapidly developing Dumbledore's omnipotentness. "He's in the lab all day. Just left, in fact."

Hermione took a rather too large gulp of tea, scalding her tongue. "But it's almost two in the morning!"

Remus shrugged. "Man's on a mission, what can I say? I'd offer to show you around, but I'm not sure how he'll take to me traipsing around his lab- he's got more on wards on that place than his room. I wouldn't know half of what he's got in there, anyway."

"His room? He's staying here?"

"Well, not all the time. He used to come and go every day, but Dumbledore was having none of it. Told him that he was under enough stress as it is without apparating on no sleep. So he's around here around four nights a week, I'd say. Personally, I think Dumbledore just wanted to make sure Severus was feeding himself."

"Smart man, Professor Dumbledore."

"That he is. Now come on, let's get you to bed."

Internal clock be damned. Hermione rolled over in bed, accepting defeat and throwing on some clothes to start breakfast. She'd woken up at six, and spent half an hour trying to go back to sleep. It was not to be. She supposed it was all for the best- there were few things as troublesome as a disrupted sleep schedule.

Poking her head in the fridge, she was happy to see Sirius (or, more likely, his house elf) was keeping it well-stocked. Hermione was no Molly Weasley in the kitchen, but she did like to bake once in a while- and crepes were in order for her first morning at Grimmauld. As she slid the last of the batch from the pan to a plate, someone else slid into the kitchen.

"Hermione! Remus told me you'd come yesterday, but I wasn't expecting to see you up this early!"

Hermione snorted. It was quarter past seven by now- a wholly appropriate time to be out of bed. Sirius, however, who was still in his pajamas and robe, obviously did not subscribe to her point of view.

"It's good to see you too, Sirius. How are you? How's Harry?"

"I'm fine. Harry… well, he's trying not to let the muggles get him down. I played fetch with him yesterday, growled at that Dudley and scared the living daylights out of him. Best fun I've had in a long time."

"It's nice to see how you've grown into such a mature adult, Pads." Remus had taken his place at the table, and Hermione got out a plate for him.

"So what're your plans for the day?"

"I haven't got any, really- do you two need help with anything?"

"I'm writing to werewolf packs," said Remus. "Think I'm fine on my own."

Sirius chuckled. "I'm cleaning out my old room. You might want to steer clear from the old top floor for a bit. I was not a tidy teenager."

That cued Remus's turn to laugh. "Because you are a paragon of cleanliness now."

Before Sirius could reply, however, their friendly banter was interrupted by the dark wizard who had just come in.

Severus Snape looked as put together as always; mornings apparently held no power over the man. No stubble, no bed hair, no grogginess. He would have been perfectly normal- were he not dressed almost muggle. In the place of his usual billowing teaching robes were a black dress shirt and black slacks, over which he wore a thin robe of black silk. If the circumstances had been different, he could have been taken for any other man wearing a robe de chambre over his clothes. Without a word, he headed for the coffee pot.

"Good morning, Severus" sing-songed the Marauders, having perfected their harmony through daily practice. Both were obviously immensely enjoying themselves.

"Good morning, Lupin, Black." His gaze came to rest on Hermione, who was in the middle of devouring her crepe. "Miss Granger."

"Gmph Marnmph!" Merlin, I sound like Ron.

"Have your puffapods matured, Severus?" inquired Remus.

"Indeed. I shall be harvesting them today. There wouldn't by any chance Kreacher knows how, would there, Black?"

Sirius shook his head. "Wouldn't trust him with my flowerpots. Take Hermione, I'd wager she knows how to harvest puffapods.

"I'm sure Miss Granger has important business of her own to attend to-"

"No, that's alright. I- I'd like to help."

"Very well. Meet me in the greenhouse." He swept out of the room, and Hermione could imagine the billowing even though it wasn't there-

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"You haven't had breakfast!"

Snape blinked as Remus fought the urger to snigger. Sirius had no such qualms. "Yeah, Severus, have breakfast with us!"

Harvesting puffapods was an endeavor best undertaken in silence- or so the potions master had told her. It suited her fine; the main thing on her mind was her parents, and she didn't feel like talking about that decision just yet.

Days at Grimmauld settled into an easy pace: rise, breakfast (Sirius made wonderful eggs), check on potions, visit greenhouse, brew. Dinner, talks by the fire, bed. It was all so easy. Between the secret-kept walls, Voldemort was a distant threat. Hermione could read, or pester Sirius for tales of his Hogwarts days (ones that didn't involve a certain Slytherin), or stand over a potion to her heart's content. There was something intangible that permeated the air of the lab, in the way Severus would brush her hair back ("Do not contaminate the potion.") or she would heal his cuts and burns ("Honestly, why can't you value your fingers as much as your ingredients?").

They were is the middle of grinding dried newt eyes when's arm twitched. Hermione's pestle clattered to the floor.

"I must go. You are more than capable of preparing these ingredients yourself-"

She was, she knew, but for him to acknowledge it was something else entirely.

"Thank-"

But he had already left.

"Hermione?"

Hermione lifted her gaze from the boomslang skin she was shredding to see Remus standing at in the doorway.

"Severus just sent a patronus- he's reporting to Dumbledore now, but he's fine. I thought you might want to know."

Hermione didn't want to know why Remus thought she's like to know- because you care about him; he knows you'd want to know if it were Sirius or him. She smiled at the thought of Severus sending a patronus- there was a part of her that she couldn't quite quiet down that hoped it wasn't for the Marauders' benefit.

"Thanks, Remus."

"You really should get some rest, you know."

"I know- let me just finish up here, and-"

"Now, Hermione." He shot her one of his best no-nonsense, this-is-for-your-own-good, I-care-about-you looks.

"Okay."

But retire to her room though she might, Hermione refused to go to sleep. This is stupid. He might not even come back here tonight. What if he decides to stay at Spinner's End? Nose buried in Hogwarts, A History (it wasn't as if her brain would be able to process any new information at the moment), she lept to her feet as a soft knock sounded on her door.

Severus had already shed his robes. Now, he lifted up his shirt in absolute silence, exposing the dark bruises that were rapidly forming. Following his lead in the aversion of words, Hermione guided him to her bed.

"Facilitate sanitatem."

She trailed a hand along his ribs, his neck, his jaw; he rose, and they were suddenly soclose-

"I'm proud of you. For seeking medical care for once."

His lips were on hers, soft, unassuming-

"I came for you."

"Oh."

And then her hands were in his hair, soft and silky, her thumb brushing his temple as he tangled the fingers of one hand in her hair, the other resting beside her ribcage, supporting her as a flame licked its way around her veins, her lips opening to let him in. It was like someone had lit a fire within her- and then he was withdrawing, more gentle now, until he came to rest his forehead against hers, their noses touching.

"Hermione."

"Severus." She saw his eyes close as if in slow motion, then open again to reveal pools of emotion like she'd never seen before.

"Say it again- please. Please."

"Severus. Severus. Severus."

He rested his chin on the top of her head, lips caressing her curls.

"It's really going to start now, isn't it? The war?"

"Yes."