Chapter 1: The One with the Order of the Phoenix

With a sudden pop, Hermione materialised on the front lawns of the Burrow. The music and laughter, some rather loud conversation carried over the house towards her. The smell of pastries close behind.

Hiking up her robes to make sure not to trip, she rushed towards the front door. As she went, the brown mane that she called hair bounced inelegantly behind her. That is how the Weasley matriarch, saw the young woman as she rushed towards the house.

Molly was drying her hands on the battered blue tea towel just as the young woman pushed through the door. Tea towel still in hand and the brush still washing the dishes in the sink, Molly moved to hug Hermione.

'Good to see you, dear.'

'Sorry I'm late. Got caught up at work.'

'That place will break you, I tell you.'

'Hermione!'

Not much after that, Hermione found the slim red head in her arms.

'Ginny, can't - breath.'

The youngest Weasley loosened the death grip on her friend, and with another softer squeeze moved back.

'Oh, you sissy.'

'Yes, that's exactly it. Not like you are just too aggressive or anything.'

Grinning at Hermione, Ginny shrugged.

'What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger, right?' The cheek ever present.

'In this case, it may have broken some bones.'

Hermione feigned injury.

Molly spoke up from the other side of the kitchen at the oven, 'Take those trays out, girls.'

With that, Ginny at Hermione's arm, the two friends levitated the trays of pastries outside to the tent, following behind as their chatter continued.

The tent was as it always had been. Set up in about the same place as it was during Bill and Fleur's wedding. Candle lit lanterns floated effortlessly near the roof of the tent, giving off enough ambient glow to light up the entire area. The seating was definitely not as it had been at the Weasley wedding. Oh no, the arrangement looked truly catastrophic. Herds of chairs and tables arranged and disassembled at the will of the guests.

'Omph-' Was all Hermione managed when Harry took her in a vice like hug. Not all too different from that of his significant other.

'Hermione! Where've you been?' A slight slur evident in his speech as he released her.

'You need to seriously stop taking hugging cues from Gin.'

'Wha?'

She waved her hand between the two, 'You deserve each other.' Again she feigned injury, rubbing at her arms. 'Every hug with the two of you is like a fight for survival.'

'One, you don't seem to be winning, ' Grinned the red-head.

'I'm still standin-'

Before Hermione could finish her sentence she was caught in the middle of a Harry-Ginny sandwich. Yes, the two deserved each other. All complaints aside, Hermione knew that they both meant well. There were no hurt feelings, simply a bruise or two of love.

'Argh. Really?' She whimpered in their arms.

When they did finally release her, she had to admit that she had asked for it and it was all her doing.

At some point during the night as the friends caught up, the three had acquired some chairs and a table for their drinks. George, with the aid of Fred, had acquired various forms of alcohol. Even Muggle options had been included, which were proving to be a hit with their father, particularly the pre-mixed fruity sort that were common choices for muggle women.

'Is the house ready for the party?' Hermione had asked.

'We're getting there.'

'Psh, that house seems to horde dust and mess, ' Ginny had claimed.

'We did give it a once over last summer.'

'It seems that while I was away at the camp, the house reclaimed some of that territory.'

'Harry stop being modest.' Ginny turned directly to Hermione, and in her most serious voice she said, 'All. All of it. It's gone and bloody well claimed all of it back.'

Hermione had laughed, drink and all. The mock seriousness in Ginny's tone had been too much.

'Clean up in aisle four,' Ginny had teased.

Glaring at the red-head menacingly, whilst attempting her best to wipe herself down. Failing, 'I might as well go in and take care of this.' Pushing her drink away, Hermione rose out of her seat, 'I think it's about time I switched to water.'

'Lil' wee 'mione can't hold her -' Her wand at his shoulder stopped him.

'One more word Potter-'

'You'll laugh some alcohol in my direction?' The cheek of him.

'Argh.' Her threat had been empty and he had called her out on it. Slipping her wand back into its holster, she stalked off into the house.

As she leaned against the bench, her eyes roamed the crowd before her. People all of whom had come together for the greater good, meandered and chatted away in the backyard. Some had lost family and others had lost a bit of themselves, some more physically than others. At least for George it seemed the loss of the upper corner of his ear and a ghostly companion provided numerous tales of bravery and war for the young ladies.

Hermione smiled to herself as she watched the two out in the tent. If she wasnt mistaken the two looked quite michevious. George Weasley was taking cover behind a crowd. His sight on the ghostly apparition of his twin and on the table at the east end. It almost looked as if the two were exchanging glances. Very much as they hand when Fred was alive. For Hermione, it was still very bittersweet seeing Fred about. It was not only the family who had lost him, but he too had lost them.

It happened then. A large booming sort of noise that was accompanied by slight smoke. When the smoke cleared it was easy to see that what now covered Minerva McGonagall and Madam Hooch was the victorian creame cake.

George had legged it. The faint apparition of Fred following close behind. Good choice, given that the Flying instructor looked ready to kill. Minerva didn't seem too far off from such thoughts either. Yet seemed to not be losing her cool.

In the crowd, Hermione spotted the unmistakable blonde plat of Lavender Brown. Who was most definitely not a member of the Order. And yet here she was. Hanging off the arm of Ron like some disembodied doe, unable to stand on its own.

Her arm reaching out to grab one of the bottles on the counter, Hermione turned on her heel and walked out the front door.

The chill December breeze greeted her. Without the warming charms on this side of the house, the cold was quick to raise goose pimples upon her arms and the nape of her neck. Momentarily pausing at the second step, she opened the lid of the bottle, a Schletters her brain registered, and took a large gulp.

She gagged.

She coughed, and heaved a little. A little too much, a little too quick.

Hermione sighed loudly.

There was no sensible reason why she should be upset. Lavender was nice enough. And, Ron owed Hermione nothing. He had been a good boyfriend. And a decent fiancé. But all of that was now over. Ad she had made sure that it was. Relationship limbo with Ron had not been a good idea. They had been through so much in such a short time. He was allowed to be happy. Hermione suspected that what bugged her most was that it was Lavender. Lavender Brown, who was the polar opposite to her. Even their hair. Where Hermione's was brown and bush, she fingered her loose strands lightly, Lavender's was blonde and wavy. The word luscious crossed Hermione's consciousness but she chose to boot it aside.

Sliding her robes off her shoulders, the bottle bouncing from one hand to the other as she did, she spread it out on the grass by the house next to the Flutterby bush. The two pots of Flutterby had become permanent fixtures of the Burrow after Fleur and Bill's wedding. The soft glow of the floating orbs of light gave Hermione just the right amount of light to navigate her way down onto her robes.

Leaning her head against the wall she had another round of the whiskey, again straight from the bottle, having not thought to grab a glass. This time she remembered to take a smaller sip, and it paid off as she silently congratulated herself for not choking once again. She had always admired the starlight out here. It reminded her of the view of the sky she had from the castle. The city lights of London tended to drown out this sight.

Several moments later, Hermione found herself reaching into the pockets of her robes, quite awkwardly, and retrieving the paperwork she had shrunk into her pockets earlier. Now seemed like just as good a time as any to review them.

And so, Hermione Granger settled outside on the lawn, leaning against the wall of the Burrow, with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the Blue parchments from the department in the other. She was so absorbed in her work that she had not heard the front door open some time later.

It was only when the heavy footfalls descended the three steps that Hermione acknowledged the presence in the front lawn with her. Looking up, she saw the silhouette of the man. Tall and dressed in dark. Whilst he had a large presence, Hermione estimated that this man was shorter than George. But then George was too tall any way.

'A bit cold out for an evening read,' the voice drawled with a slight hitch. It was the sort of drawl that took years to perfect. It reminded Hermione of whiskey. Not like the Schletter's she was about a third of the way through. But something smooth and rich - an elegant, acidic mix that required an acquired taste.

'Nothing whiskey and a warming charm won't take care of.'

'Foolish wand waving.' He said in her general direction. 'You Gryffindor's are all the same.'

Severus Snape. A man Hermione had seen little of since the end of the war. He have been absent for most of the immediate aftermath. For a few months she could not go anywhere without seeing his face on a newspaper or sign. It had taken cooperated efforts from Professor McGonagall and the Order of the Phoenix to get him the peace he desired. Since then he had crawled back to the dungeons.

'A useful skill nonetheless. How else would I get things done.' A rhetoric question, however she was sure she had heard him muttered something along the lines of 'Figures'.

She continued, in the mean time her eyes studied him, trying to see all of him in the little light they had, 'What are you doing here, Professor?'

'Apparently, I'm still an Order member.'

'Not what I meant - You have not been to one of these before -'

'I am learning rather quickly that with a Gryffindor if things seem like they are too good to be true, then that is truly the case.'

The look on her face must have looked questioning, because he continued.

'Never accept a deal from a madwoman, Miss Grange-'

'-Hermione.'

He appeared to ignore her interruption. Taking a slow sip, he looked at her once more. 'I shall leave you and your work to your solitude.'

As he turned to leave, her mouth took on a mind of its own, speaking up quickly and boldly, 'You know the problem with solitude -' the dim lights highlighted his arched eyebrow as he paused in mid retreat, watching her curiously. 'It does get rather lonely.'

'Is that so, Hermione.'

'Why don't you join me, Professor?'

The corners of Severus Snape's lips quirked slightly into a smirk as he regarded the girl - the woman - in front of him. She sat, cross legged, on what appeared to be her robes, most likely those from work, and clad in only muggle jeans and a blue t-shirt. One hand on a bottle of whiskey, and the other held the parchments which she had been engaged with before he had interrupted her.

Emptying his glass, he met her eyes for the first time that night. 'It's a good thing, I acquiesced real whiskey.' He held up the bottle of Ogden's.

Smirk well in place, it took Severus only a few strides to join Hermione. He settled himself down next to her, a little awkwardly at first, before finally stretching his legs out in front of him. Without a word he was passing his bottle to her.

Hermione could not help the smile that stretched across her lips. After taking a swing, straight out of the bottle, she broke the silence, 'Thank you, Severus.'

She was staring right at him. She was baiting him and he knew it.

'What are you doing here?'

'What am I- What about you? You haven't been to one of these things in… well ever.'

'Not this shin dig. Out here, reading Ministry documents.'

'Work. And you're avoiding the question.'

'This gets me off dunderhead patrol.'

The spite in his tone made Hermione laugh. And it seemed clear that Severus was not finding the situation quite so humourous.

'With every disdainful passing minute I am feeling like I made the wrong decision.'

Hermione's laughter was shorter and louder.

'You sound like a hyena.'

'Now that isn't very nice, Professor.'

He snatched the bottle of Ogden's out of her hands.

'Bat of the dungeon's doesn't know -' The sharp intake of recognition preceded Hermione's palm raising to her lips. Fear danced across her eyes. 'I'm sorry, I didn't -'

'Don't fret. I am not oblivious to the notions of the student body.'

Hermione remained quiet. The hand joining the other on her lap, she looked at the man beside her as he continued to speak.

'You lot in particular were strangers to discretion.'

Then Severus chuckled. It was a hearty, stomach-tightening sort of laugh that caught her by surprised. It felt like an inside joke, that she was not a part of. She did not have the heart to interrupt his laughter, instead Hermione continued to watch him, unabashed. He was sitting there next to her, holding a glass of whiskey, dressed in quite Muggle attire. He was sheltered in his customary black, from his dress shirt with too many buttons to his slacks and shoes. From the little light they had outside, she thought that he looked healthier - his eyes did not appear sunken and he even seemed to have filled out, or maybe that was simply the trick of the light and the cut of the shirt.

'What exactly is so important that you need to review it here?'

'And you want to know?'

'Miss granger -'

'Hermione,' she interjected.

It was his turn to shoot a blazing glare at her.

' - As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, I would not have asked if I did not wish to know, Miss Granger.'

'IMM four-fifty-eight's.' At his questioning gaze she continued, 'Forms I need to sort through for the Rights of Magical Creatures Bill.'

After that, the two talked for some time. They discussed Hermione's ill-conceived morals, Severus said, and his lack of a heart, she replied. When civility won out, the two talked of the historical Bills, and those currently passing through the chambers, regarding magical creatures and potion patenting. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find that though Severus Snape seemed to have no care for her endeavours, he did seem well spoken on the subject, amongst many others.

'You know, there is no need for you to keep calling me Miss Granger.'

'You were my student, there is no other way.'

She had laughed at him then.

'No other way? Her-mi-o-ne is an option.' She emphasised each syllable

'That is no way for me to refer to a child -'

'If you might not have noticed but haven't been a child in a long time. A woman would be the best description, you insolent lud-'

The argument halted at the booming of the fireworks that erupted overhead. The night sky lit up from the Weasley's Wizard Wheeze's stock. Dragons and phoenixes burst into the sky. A display that could quite easily put the state New Years display to shame.

'If only those men had put all this energy into their school work.' Severus had was surprised to admit that it had sounded much like a compliment for the Weasley twins from Severus Snape. That did not seem quite right.

When the fireworks had eased, Hermione turned to find Severus Snape staring at her. He had not said anything. But even in the near dark she was certain of his eyes on her. So she did what seemed most logical; she stared back at him. His customary black seemed at odds with the seemingly relaxed man that sat beside her.

She wasn't sure who had started it. Maybe it had been when he had cupped her face in his hands, or when she had reached out for his chest. At some point in the darkness, Hermione Granger had her lips locked to one Severus Snape. Their tongues making quick work of acquainting with one another.

Her papers had gone astray, long forgotten, as had his bottle of Ogdens and his glass. She leaned into him, gripping tightly to his shirt. He had the base of her head cupped in one hand, whilst the other tilted her chin just so for the perfect angle.

Just as suddenly as it had started it had come to an end. Maybe it was her moan that was to blame, because not long after the soft sound had vibrated through her, Severus pulled away from her entirely.

'What's wrong?'

'You're so young.'

'Isn't that meant to be a good thing?'

'That's a bit crass, Hermione.' She heard him inhaled deeply. 'I should go,' he said, lifting to his feet.

'You don't have to - not on my account.'

He did not respond to her, instead looking her once over, she could swear he smiled, 'This has been nice.'

And with that Severus Snape left Hermione Granger sitting by the Flutterby bushes, her lips still tingling.