AN: Shoutout to my alpha readers Ruby, Juby, and Bryra, as well as my mom and my husband for all the encouragement along the way!
Massive amounts of thanks to SnakegirlSprocket for beta-ing and getting this ready for fan eyes!
And of course, if you're here, you probably know - I do not own Harry Potter, I just like to play here.
Thanks for reading!
Please re-apply the warming charms on the front porch if you notice it has expired. No one wants a trip to St. Mungos!
Hermione affixed the bright purple note to the bulletin board, hoping the eye-catching color and pun were compelling enough that she wouldn't find the entryway iced over again. She'd taken quite the spill on her way out the previous morning and had been very lucky to cast a cushioning charm before she hit the hard ground. Then again, it might not have been such a hazard if she hadn't been so excited to report for her training.
Not even a full day had passed after Hermione's meeting with Mr. Hemlocke when an owl arrived from his office. She had officially been accepted as a temporary worker by Flourish and Blotts. After narrowly avoiding cracking her head open on the street the next day, she'd reported to the Improper Use of Magic Office to receive a full briefing on the modified Trace for wand payments.
As with everything the Ministry did, there were a number of flowery scrolls to absorb. However, the parchment gave her little insight into why the department itself wasn't dedicating more staff to the job. She'd pointed out as much to the bored, young wizard who was detailing the law at length to her.
"We just monitor and carry out the regulation," he'd said, as if she was quite stupid for even asking the question.
The Ministry never failed to impress her with its utter lack of open-mindedness. Clearly, they were quite literally banking on the idea that not all of the businesses would make the transition in time. They'd rake in the fines and only make the necessary changes in staffing afterwards. It was exactly the type of inanity she'd witnessed during her years as an Auror: prioritizing the opportunity for punishment, politically and monetarily, over making life better for its citizens.
As soon as she was free of the droning wizard's lecture, she'd resolved to do everything in her power to foil that plan. That evening, she'd settled in to make an easy guide from the dense inches of legalese and antiquated wording the Ministry so enjoyed using in their legislation. That way, she could distribute something of use, even to the businesses that didn't hire her.
Now, as she headed out for her first day as an independent auditor, Hermione carried a folder of the pamphlets tucked under her arm. With one last glance at her purple note, she caught a faint whiff of fire and herbs. She looked towards the somewhat mysterious basement apartment, her Occlumency rising up to battle the confounding wards on the place. In the nearly two years she'd lived there, she had yet to meet that particular resident. She'd considered introducing herself, but realized that even though she could approach the door without getting redirected elsewhere, whoever put up such strong protections clearly didn't want to socialize. So she'd given up - Afterall, whoever lived there never seemed to cause any trouble in the common space. Still, from time to time, she'd catch the scent of potions brewing and wonder about the person who'd created such intricate wards.
Pulling herself back to the task at hand, she opened up the front door and smiled into the cold wind. Despite there being even more snow on the ground, the sun was shining and she was headed to one of her favorite stores. And she had a celebratory dinner at the Burrow to look forward to. A few short minutes later, she pushed into Flourish and Blotts, taking a deep breath in, anticipating the vanilla scent of well-maintained old books.
She choked on the acrid smell of smoke, the bell chiming behind her as the door shut. Fire! In a book shop! Her rose-colored glasses shattered and she became more aware of her surroundings. It was about a half hour before opening, so there weren't any customers milling about the stacks. She caught the tones of a hushed argument in the deeper room of the shop and the definite signs of something burning as thin tendrils of smoke snaked out towards her. Fearing the worst, she rushed towards the source.
"Netta, hush! This is the only way," a portly wizard said as he coaxed the magical fire he was burning in a metal wastebasket higher.
"You're an idiot, Julius, the girl is sure to arrive any second!" The witch hissed, punctuating her words with several hard slaps to the man's wand arm. As he fumbled, the flames burst upwards.
"Aguamenti!" Hermione shouted, a cascade of water enveloping and quenching the fire.
The burning paper sizzled, cloying smoke filling the air, and the shop proprietors turned to face her, a curious mix of guilt and welcome twisting their expressions. With a wordless flick of her wand, Hermione siphoned the smoke from the room, holding her scarf over her mouth for good measure as she approached the office.
"My dear, I told him not to!" Netta Flourish said, landing another hard wack across Julius Blott's chest. "This isn't how I wanted to welcome you on your first day here."
Julius's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Hermione Granger, is it? You didn't tell me it was our best customer coming to give us a hand, Netta!"
"I certainly did, you old fool!"
Hermione grinned at the shopkeepers' bickering, but her focus was on the sopping contents of the wastebasket.
"May I?" Hermione asked, already summoning and drying the half-burned, half-soaked pages of the ledger they'd clearly been trying to destroy. Luckily, the fire had not done much more than singe a few of the pages. "Was this charmed against the elements?"
Julius blanched while Netta turned a darker shade of furious red. "Yes, of course!" the older witch spluttered. "That's what I was trying to tell the man, but he wouldn't hear of it."
Hermione tapped the book with her wand, expelling the water and soot away to reveal the ledger relatively whole. "Excellent. With this, it will be a lot easier for me to help you." She levelled a look at her new employers, biting back the urge to scold them or burst out laughing. "Now, shall we settle down and talk about what all this is about?"
"Do something useful, Julius, and fetch us tea," Netta griped at the wizard. "Here, my dear, have a seat. My deepest apologies for that nonsense. Julius…he's a bit prone to impulsiveness. A good quality when it comes to knowing which books to sell to a customer, but I typically handle the admin. We are very thankful to have you here, despite what it may look like."
Hermione smiled gently at the woman who'd helped her locate books many times over the years. "This might be a bit of an uncomfortable question to answer…but is there a solid reason your business partner was just trying to literally cook your books? Let me be clear, I am under your employ, Madam Flourish, and my duty is to help your business make this transition as smoothly as possible. I am not here at the behest or payroll of the Ministry or Magical Law Enforcement, though I will not assist you in anything illegal."
Madam Flourish heaved a sigh. "Oh, you might as well call me Netta! To be honest, I don't know whether or not we should be concerned," she said, fiddling with a bit of parchment on the desk. "I can personally attest that there isn't anything truly untoward in this ledger. But…you have to understand, Flourish and Blotts has stood here for over five centuries, selling scrolls and then books in exchange for whatever things of value our customers could offer."
Hermione nodded. "And I suppose you're concerned about taxation?"
"I should have burned that ledger as soon as they announced the rule change," Julius muttered under his breath as he re-entered the office with a tea tray and Hermione took it as confirmation. "Our margins aren't enough to cover nearly 600 years of back taxes they'll discover we owe when the Ministry's up in our bloody records."
Netta winced. "That is true. Since we inherited the shop 78 years ago, we've done our best to cut down on the more flexible exchanges that our fathers engaged in."
"Blasted goats for books, Miss Granger! That's what we're talking about here! Sometimes, that just meant we had quite the Sunday meal, but other times–"
"He'd sell it, and put the money back into the business without reporting the earnings?" Hermione guessed. Netta nodded wearily while Julius made a particularly graphic gesture at a portrait of a man who looked quite a lot like him. This apparently wasn't all too unusual of an occurrence, as the portrait laughed heartily and returned the gesture. "Would the Ministry really try and collect that far back?"
But even as she asked it, Hermione reminded herself that this was the wizarding world and the amount of time that had passed was likely irrelevant. She would find a way to ensure the mistakes of the past wouldn't hurt the business's future.
"Well, I'm here to help you with this transition, so there is no better time than the present to get your books in order," she said firmly. "I can't guarantee anything, because I'm no wizard accounting expert, but I'll do my best to find a way for you to continue business as usual. However, I need to see absolutely everything."
"Everything?" Netta looked worriedly between Julius and his father's portrait who wore identically pallid expressions.
"Every receipt, every ledger page, every name of a goat," Hermione said. "Everything you have."
Within an hour, Hermione had been provided a sprawling desk in one of the less frequented corners of the shop, as well as a pile of progressively ancient ledgers and unlimited access to any book on wizarding taxation law she could get her hands on. Being Flourish and Blotts, there was no shortage of fine parchment, charmed quills, and bleedless ink. Netta and Julius had also ensured she'd have a consistent supply of tea and toast. It was safe to say, Hermione Granger was in absolute heaven.
She set up a basic Arithmantic matrix to optimize the shop's accounting, adding new data points each time she absorbed a new regulation or law from her reading. Simultaneously, she'd set a sturdy enchanted quill to the task of copying the odd receipts and random records that hadn't fit into the official ledgers onto a single scroll. Looking up from yet another paragraph about inheritance stipulations, she reached for a piece of toast and took in the strange little factory she'd set up.
With a snort she realized what the shop really needed was a computer and digitized records. Unfortunately, muggle technology had the habit of short-circuiting or losing all of its data with any significant exposure to magic. Even if she managed to competently spell a laptop against blowing up, it would hardly be an easy sell to the proprietors. The times she had tried to explain to Arthur Weasley how to find his way around one had always ended in failure, and he'd dedicated his entire career to studying muggle inventions. Witches and wizards didn't blink twice at words appearing of their own volition on parchment, but suddenly the same being done through pixels in a glass screen, and they forgot how to read! At the moment, however, she was thankful for magic as she sipped the tea that was kept at the perfect temperature by the bewitched cup, and settled back into her preliminary work.
It was half-six in the evening when Severus decided to venture out and accomplish his errands. The sun had set, and while the streets were bustling with people going out to dinner and heading home after work, many of the shops would be emptying out as closing time approached. He preferred to avoid the somewhat leisurely daytime shoppers, who could make an entire event of their outings. He much preferred the occasional frantic witch or wizard grabbing what they needed in a last minute rush to return home. But even that was a rarity in Flourish and Blotts at this time of day. Unless there was a late book signing or public reading, he could generally rely on the shop being next to empty once night had fallen.
Such was the state in which he found the bookstore when he pushed through the door in search of a very particular book. This was his last legitimate source to check before turning to some of the more…subtle options on Knockturn. He'd turned up nothing in the collection at the central library in town and wasn't sure he could stand lowering himself to submitting a request (that would surely be denied) directly to the Ministry records. Approaching where Julius Blott stood behind the main desk, Severus thought he caught the faint smell of charred parchment.
"Ah, Master Snape!" the wizard said jovially. Despite Severus's dower demeanor, the proprietor always appeared happy to see him. Probably because no matter what he came in looking for, the potions master always purchased something. "What can I do for you this fine evening?"
"Julius," Severus said slowly, casting his eyes around to confirm there weren't any listening ears nearby, more out of habit than anything else. "I'm looking for a manual. I'm sure you don't have it on the sale shelves, but it might be in your collection. Do you happen to have a copy of the Ministry's Standards of Protocol for Magical Investigation?"
Julius stroked his chin in thought. "Well, I don't believe we have the latest edition— they try to keep a handle on the wider distribution until it's out of practice. But we have a good number of the older editions in the legal section that you are more than welcome to take a look at."
Severus bowed his head in thanks and made his way to the collection rooms. It was worth a look, though he had little idea how much information would have changed in the current edition. At the very least, it had to be better than attempting to discern anything of value from following the public reports of actual investigations; they seemed to have little rhyme or reason from the outside.
He stopped short before slipping into the collections room, surprised to find it was already occupied. Even more shocking was that the witch within was standing on a chair, her hips at eye level. His gaze traveled her curves upward to her stretched waist as she reached even higher to shuffle through some rather heavy looking ledgers on the top shelf. Before his higher reasoning could kick in, he'd admiringly eyed back down the length of her.
Then he noticed the desk between them. It was strewn with scrolls of parchment and several active quills, each marking in different colored inks. A small chalkboard held an arithmantic matrix, the runes and numbers shifting every so often to reflect a growing data set. He stood in awe of the scene before he realized he was ogling the stranger and her work in a way that would have made his skin crawl had their roles been reversed. Hoping not to startle the witch when she was in such a precarious position, he cleared his throat before stepping fully into the room.
It hardly made any difference, as the witch gasped and jumped so violently, his grip tightened on his wand in case he needed to cast a cushioning charm should she fall. Severus's own relationship with gravity became a bit challenged when she turned, and he found himself staring up at Hermione Granger. For the space of a single breath, their faces were mirror images of surprise. Then they each broke into opposing expressions, Hermione smiling widely while Severus retreated to his usual scowl.
"Professor," Hermione said, dropping down from the chair to land lithely behind the desk. "Good evening, what brings you here?"
Severus grasped for equilibrium as his brain tried to balance his initial attraction to the bookish stranger with the recognition of his old student. In the fray of battling emotions, his mind defaulted to basic deflection.
"I could ask you the same, Miss Granger," he managed, buying himself a few more seconds to get his thoughts under control.
Granger gestured around, her smile even brighter if it was possible. "Working! Only temporary, but I'm helping them update their books and systems for wand payments. I've been in here all day, can I help you find anything?"
"Don't let me interrupt you," he said, waving at the desk that still buzzed with activity. "I'm more than capable of finding my way around."
"Surely," she replied with a smirk. To his dismay, she hopped back up onto the chair. Taking a deep breath, he also turned to the shelves, slowly picking through manuals and tomes of legal regulations and records. It wasn't nearly as comprehensive as the Ministry's own library, of course, but it was plentiful for a private collection.
Severus moved along the shelves, doing his best to ignore his growing proximity to the witch on the chair. He was fighting the rather obnoxious impulse to glance at her again. Whether to prove to himself that his first impression of her silhouette was exaggerated, or to wholeheartedly steal another glimpse, he couldn't tell. Either one would be a loss.
He audibly sighed when he finally found the collection of investigation protocol manuals in the shelf beside hers, sparing himself the embarrassment of deciding how to move around her. He pulled out the second most recent manual, which seemed to be written during the middle of the war when the Ministry had fallen into the clutches of the Dark Lord. Informative in its own right, but not nearly as up to date as he'd have hoped.
"Investigation protocol manuals?" Granger asked from above. "That one's a bit out of date."
How long has she been watching? He glared up at her. Granger had one hand on her hip as she leaned into the bookcase to look down at him. She smiled again.
"So it's true! You're starting some kind of private investigation agency?"
"Not so much of an agency just yet," he sneered.
She hopped down from her chair again, and somehow her closeness became even more potent of a distraction. Now on the same level, he was hyperaware of the space between them as she cocked her head to one side thoughtfully.
"Would you like my manual?" she asked. "I think I still have it around. But even if I burned it with some of the other MLE things, I bet I could nick Ron or Harry's. It's not as if they'd miss it."
"Why?" he asked with sudden suspicion.
The witch appeared taken aback by the question, her eyebrows drawing together in bemusement.
"Well, since I apparently need a reason to lend you the exact book you're looking for…I suppose it just seems interesting. What you're doing, that is. Not that I know anything about your actual plans. But the basic premise is brilliant, and I think needed."
His nerves were set to rights by her typical nervous babbling.
"I would greatly appreciate that," he said seriously and she nodded. Suddenly, he felt the need to give her something in return, to balance the scales between them. Nothing ever came without a price, afterall. "I'm hoping to understand the current approach to magical signatures and physical evidence within the Ministry's investigations. From my vantage point, the present practices appear to be…lacking."
Granger's posture stiffened, and Severus prepared himself for her snap defense of the Aurory. He'd revealed too much. But when she raised her face, her expression yet again set him off kilter. Her caramel colored eyes sparked with a deep, knowing contempt.
"You have no idea," she seethed. He wanted to demand further explanation when her expression shifted again, this time to the wide openness of realization. "That's it! Magical signatures! Thank you, Professor." With a wandless gesture, the enchanted activity at her desk immediately ceased and she ran out of the room leaving him to wonder what exactly had just happened. As he shook himself, she popped back inside again.
"Sorry, I must be off!" she said, pulling her cloak and winter wear on in a rush. "I'll bring the manual with me here tomorrow. Have a good night!"
And then she was gone, leaving Severus Snape feeling more than a little confused. He hated being confused…perhaps more than any other state of mind. It was with much grumbling that he replaced the manual he'd been looking at and stalked out of the shop with little more than a nod at Julius as he went. He'd already stomped several blocks away when he realized he'd neglected to buy anything from Flourish and Blotts.
He trudged the last couple of streets to his flat at a much less determined pace, not sure whether to be annoyed by the strange exchange, or thrilled that he would actually get access to the book he sought. Draco's words recommending Granger as a potential hire a couple nights before rang in his head again. Clearly, she had already found employment, and he was more than happy to dismiss her from his unconscious consideration that had started as soon as he'd seen her in the Department of Employment and Assignments.
But another line of thought nagged. Memories of his initial impression of her that evening, before he knew who she was, pricked at the back of his neck. Even setting aside the somewhat cromagnon response he'd had to her frame – and he would set it aside because it was much too complicated to consider – he'd been impressed by her. Her orderly multitasking, as well as the layered approach she was evidently taking to her task was admirable, bordering on ideal. It had been years since he'd seen someone other than himself attack a problem so holistically. Magic and logic intertwined, just how it was supposed to be.
He groaned in annoyance. She already had a job - she wouldn't want to work with him anyhow - and he still didn't know why or how she'd left the Aurory. He was still grumbling when he walked into his apartment building. Before trudging downstairs to start on yet another experimental potion, a new bright purple note caught his eye from the bulletin board. Needing to focus on anything else, even the righteous indignation of a neighbor, he stalked over to indulge in the latest message from the despot of the building. He snickered at the idiotic pun, wondering if the author was a little more self-aware than he'd previously given credit.