The Common Grounds Cafe was a Muggle cafe not too far from the Ministry. Normally the employees had their lunches in the Atrium, but Hermione preferred the anonymity of the cafe. There, she wasn't a war hero, or an "up and comer," as they called her, in the Department of Magical Law. She wasn't "the brightest witch of her age," gawked at, or stopped by a stray reporter to snap her photo. No, there she was just another faceless business woman simply enjoying her tea and sandwich. No one knew who Hermione Granger was there. At least, that used to be the case.

She sat in her usual seat in the back corner of the cafe. Even years after the war, she preferred to sit somewhere she could see everything. Having any blind spots in a small room made it difficult for her to breathe properly. After she was settled in her seat, and mentally calculated the quickest way to the exit — another habit, she took a sip of her tea then reached into her bag to pull out something to read. An angry snort escaped her as she flattened out her copy of The Daily Prophet and saw the headline.

Hermione Granger: Brightest Witch of Her Age, or Jealous Ex-Lover Filled with Rage?

A rather unflattering photo of her scowling was plastered on the front page, alongside a sweet photo of Ron Weasley and his newest flavor of the week; Romilda Vane. An utterly asinine article accompanied the photos, unsurprisingly by Rita Skeeter. Hermione rolled her eyes. She thought she saw Rita in her beetle form on Ron's shoulder for a moment, when they had their row a few days prior. Of course that wretched woman would have misconstrued what they had argued about.

She and Ron had been separated for nearly three years, yet they were still on good terms. Both of them realized after two years of dating that they really were not a good match for one another. She loved him, and she cared for him, but in the same way she loved and cared for her friend, Harry Potter. Ron would also always be one of her best friends.

What Skeeter failed to mention in her article was that their argument pertained to Ron coming to her for advice, regarding his future at the Ministry. His heart wasn't in being an Auror, and he was contemplating quitting to work with George at his joke shop. It wasn't that Hermione didn't care for the joke shop, she just… couldn't see Ron there. Not that he wasn't intelligent, he had one of the best strategic minds she'd ever come across, but she couldn't picture him coming up with the sort of products George offered at his shop. They were, and she would have never admitted this, some of the most creative magic she'd ever seen. However, she felt Ron would have been throwing his future away if he left the Aurors. Ron, as usual, took her advice as an attack on his intelligence, and things became quite heated. Truthfully, they were fine now. He was only angry for about a day, before he apologized for overreacting. It had nothing to do with her being jealous of a new fling.

"No talent hack," she grumbled under her breath as she crumpled up the paper and shoved it back into her bag.

She sat seething, mindlessly staring at the entrance, watching people come and go. Obviously everyone had their own problems, but what she wouldn't have given to trade places with any of those people. Muggles, most likely, who didn't have to worry about every movement, argument, or breath they had taken ending up in the papers. What she wouldn't have given to have been normal. Even if only for a day.

When the door opened again, and the next patron walked through, her eyes widened. At first she assumed she was overtired, and her eyes were playing tricks on her. Hermione blinked twice then looked back towards the man. No, she wasn't imagining things. She would have recognized that black frock coat and those curtains of raven hair anywhere.

What in the world was he doing in a Muggle cafe, she wondered? And what was he doing in London? Last she heard, Severus Snape was completely unreachable. She knew Minerva attempted to contact him multiple times after the war, to apologize, and to offer him his position as Headmaster back, if he chose to take it. The only response she received was a rather… colorful letter, telling her exactly what she could have done with the Headmaster position, and also tossing in a brief sentence accepting her apology. After that, he was barely heard from, besides the owl order potions business he had started.

Severus Snape ordered from the barista, and although she couldn't hear his words, she caught the irritation in his tone. Something about hearing his deep, curt voice again gave her chills. She suddenly felt like a student again, awaiting a scolding.

Ridiculous, she thought to herself. She hadn't been his student in nearly seven years. The reaction must have been due to her already being on edge after seeing that awful article.

Snape grabbed his drink and turned in her direction. She quickly averted her eyes to her cup of tea, and tried to hide her face behind her wild curls, but not before she caught the slight hesitation in his step, and the look of annoyed recognition that had come into his eyes.

A few seconds later, a chair scraped two tables away from her, but she determinedly kept her gaze locked onto her cup. She didn't know what to do. Snape never in her life showed any favor towards her, but it also seemed rude to fully ignore the man, when clearly they had both spotted one another. Hermione twisted her hands beneath the table, and decided to say nothing. Whatever cutting or cruel remark he'd give her, she certainly wasn't in the mood for.

He looked good, she thought out of nowhere. Healthy, she meant. He seemed to have put a bit of weight on, since the last time she… No, she didn't want to think of the last time she had seen Severus Snape. Seeing a man as powerful as he, looking so weak and helpless, lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo's, with bandages wrapped around his neck, barely able to speak, was not a happy memory for her. It was one of the most jarring from after the war.

Once. One time she visited him while he recovered. She felt compelled to, since she was the reason he currently sat not ten feet away from her alive and well. He was sleeping when she tentatively walked into his room, she didn't know if he even knew she had been there. From what she understood, he didn't receive many visitors.

A loud clearing of someone's throat pulled her back into the present. Slowly, she turned towards the sound, and found herself looking directly into Snape's coal black eyes. His expression wasn't entirely unfriendly, but it wasn't warm or welcoming either.

"Not that I am overjoyed by your presence either, Miss Granger," he drawled, "but proper etiquette normally calls for two individuals who know one another to at least attempt a greeting."

Hermione stiffened. It was as if she were being scolded in a classroom once again.

"I'm sorry, sir," she blurted out of habit.

Snape snorted as he rolled his eyes.

"Miss Granger, you and I are both adults, and I am… blessedly, no longer your teacher. Sir is not required."

"Right. Sorry, si-" Shit, what should she call him? Not Severus, that was for sure. "...Snape?" she responded, yet formed it more like a question.

He hummed dismissively then turned away from her. She noticed he was pulling out a copy of today's Daily Prophet. Her heart sank.

No, there was no way she was going to deal with the mockery that was sure to have come. Before he could have uttered a single insult, she gulped down the rest of her tea, and gathered her things as quickly as she could have managed.

When she stood from her seat, she knocked her knee against the table and hissed an expletive. Of course, she thought as her cheeks suddenly felt on fire.

Snape looked over at the noise, and she could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

"It - it was nice seeing you, sir— I mean, shit. Snape!"

He arched an eyebrow, she assumed in response to two examples of colorful language she'd used, in under thirty seconds.

Before he could respond, she hurried from the table, tossed her trash into the bin, and bolted out of the door.

Hopefully that was a one-off. She couldn't have imagined Snape would wander into her cafe again. She hoped he wouldn't. Because, that couldn't have gone worse if she tried, she thought as she almost ran back to the Ministry.

ooo

A/N- Hi! Yes, yes, I know. *hides* This is yet another SSHG WIP, but this is a short one. Only about 6-7 chapters, and 2.5 chapters of this are currently written.

This year has been utter crap, for everyone, and personally. I know that I am far from the only person who has lost a loved one this year, and my heart goes out to all of you who have.

This is just a happy, fluffy, self-indulgent little story that I began writing to make myself feel better.

If you decide to read it, I hope you enjoy it! I promise I haven't forgotten about my other SSHG WIPs. When my muse cooperates, I will definitely be getting back to them. But for now, just a little bit of light fun. (With a dash of angst, because let's be real. I just can. not. write this pairing without a bit of snark and angst).

I hope you are doing well, and I hope that 2021 ends up being a better year for everyone!

Sending all the love, and tons of hugs,
Meg xoxo