AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
"Here are the Brazilian slug tails you ordered," a man in jeans and a white t-shirt put a box on the counter of Severus' apothecary. He took a deep breath as he stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles.
"Thank you," Severus did not look at him. Instead, his entire attention was on the store across the street, the one he could see outside his window.
The man kept his eyes on Severus, knowing better than to interrupt this ritual. The last time he'd done so, he'd earned a half a minute long tongue lashing from him. If he was a lesser man he would've wept. Instead, he took notes of Severus' best insults for the next time he drove down Interstate 15 to visit his sister in San Bernardino. Then, he reminded Severus that it wasn't in his job description to be barked at and he could quit at any time.
The woman who owned the bookstore across the street stepped into view. She fumbled for her wand in her dress pocket. Severus gave her the most tender expression he'd ever given another person.
She turned around and grinned in the direction of the apothecary window. With a small grin, she waved at him. Then, she tapped her wand onto the door and entered.
Severus waved back, looking every bit like he was putty in her hands. The world may know Severus Snape as a hardened git, but the man in the store and the woman in her store knew his softer side. It was on display every morning for those who were fortunate enough to see him at the right time.
The man stood up straighter. "Why don't you just ask her out?"
"Excuse me?" Severus snapped, his hardened expression returning.
The man was unfazed by the outburst. "Why don't you just ask her out already?"
"Whatever makes you think I want to ask Hermione out?"
"Oh come on! You watch her enter her bookstore every day, then wave at her like it's the highlight of your morning. If she can't find an excuse to visit your store, you go over there to discuss some book," he continued. "Why don't you just ask her to get a cup of coffee, or go out to dinner with her? The Top of the World is beautiful in the evening, especially once it starts to rotate. If you reserve your table a week or two in advance, you should have an amazing evening."
"What makes you think I want to eat overpriced food?"
"Because you'll pay any amount of money to be with her and give her the night of her dreams."
"And what makes you think I want to do any of that?"
"Because it's clear you love her."
"Ricardo," Severus glared at the other man. "I understand that you just got married, and you are under the delusion that everyone will be as happy as you are if only they find true love or some other such nonsense."
"Isn't it true that love makes us happier than we would be alone?"
"For some people yes, but for practical people like me, love is a nuisance that inhibits one's ability to live their best life."
"How would you know? You and Hermione would make wonderful partners. I mean, you already take care of her, protect her from those who insult her, and defend her from the reporters who get too nosy."
"You misunderstand my motives. They have little to do with love."
Ricardo cocked his head.
"When Hermione first moved here, she was hounded by reporters eager for their next scoop. They clogged up the streets trying to get an exclusive interview with her, which in turn made it difficult for my customers to reach my store. I lost quite a bit of revenue due to reduced foot traffic. Something needed to be done, so I took care of the problem by chasing them away."
"So your interest in her well-being is purely for profit?"
"It sounds so crude when you put it that way."
"True, and it's wildly inaccurate. You could lose all your revenue due to her, and you'd still wave at her."
Severus' scowl deepened.
"If you are only interested in profit, why do you need to invent reasons to wander over there every day? Why does she invent reasons to come over here?" Ricardo continued.
"I like to read. She owns a bookstore. My interest is nothing more than that."
"So you like her because she doesn't interfere with your business, and she gives you books?"
"More or less."
Ricardo raised an eyebrow.
"There are worse reasons to like someone anyway." Severus shrugged.
"Yes, and worse reasons to play cards with them almost every night," Ricardo noted.
"I play cards with her because she loses, and I like collecting quarters and candy from her."
"And if she beat you every time?"
"I would still play with her because I have nothing better to do."
"You're in Las Vegas. You can find a thousand other things to do."
"Yes, but most of them involve tourists and dunderheads, neither of which Hermione is."
"So you do feel some affection for her."
"I do, I mean..."
Ricardo smirked.
"Your judgment is clouded by your happiness as a newlywed," Severus continued in a controlled voice. "You are seeing things which do not exist. Do not fret though. In five years when your husband is nagging at you to take out the garbage, you will see things more clearly and realize people like me are incapable of falling in love."
"Sure," he turned to the box and pointed to it. "As I said earlier, these are the Brazilian slug tails, the basil stems, the acromantula venom, and the bezoar."
Severus' lips curled up. "When you aren't inventing relationships, you are an excellent supplier."
"Don't ever forget it," Ricardo grinned.
"Now, I have an order for more ingredients in the back. I can give you the list if you will wait for a few moments."
"Sure. I can wait."
"Thank you," Severus stepped into the backroom.
Ricardo continued to watch the door, tapping his fingers to a muggle melody he'd heard on the radio on his way to work. One heard the most interesting songs on a car radio. Although most wizards didn't drive, Ricardo quite enjoyed being in a vehicle. It gave him a peace and a place to meditate. Besides, he was terrified of being splinched, and portkeys made him violently ill. Cars were a much better option, especially if one cast charms which ensured they would not crash.
The bell on the doorway interrupted his thoughts.
"Hello," Ricardo began. "Severus is in the back. If you give him a second he will be right with you."
"Oh that's fine," the woman's sneer was as shady as that of a used car salesman. "I can wait."
"Okay, this order will be a bit more difficult to obtain than the last. Still, I have faith in your abilities and," Severus stopped upon seeing the newcomer. Through gifted teeth, he said, "Hello Rita."
"Hello Severus, or should I say, the man formally known as Headmaster Snape?"
Ricardo's eyes grew, wondering how much longer she would be standing given how quickly Severus reached for his wand.
"I'd like a few minutes of your time, if you don't mind." She was unmoved by the wand pointed at her heart.
"How the hell did you find me?" He asked in a low voice.
"I have my ways," She winked and approached his counter.
"My answer to any and all questions is, 'no comment.'"
"But you don't even know what I'm asking."
"It matters little to me what you are asking. I want no part of it."
"Not even if I'm writing a retrospective of Dumbledore's Army?"
Ricardo had never seen Severus so pale.
"I'm going to be writing a series of articles which I hope to turn into a book on Dumbledore's Army," she put a hand on his desk and leaned forward. "I wondered if you wanted to recount you experiences watching children being tortured by the Carrows and fighting the students who wanted to save Wizarding Britain from Lord Voldemort."
"It's my understanding that Severus saved children from Voldemort," Ricardo cut in. "He wasn't a Death Eater, but a spy."
"With all due respect," Rita sneered. "Being an American, you wouldn't know the first thing about the Second Wizarding War. I'll bet you couldn't even point to Britain on a map."
"I would hope I could point to Britain on a map. Otherwise it would have been extremely difficult to get my degree."
"Degree?"
"Yes, I have a double major in Potions and European Wizarding History from Calivada University, so an inability to point out Britain would speak ill of their program," Ricardo argued.
"It is one of the top European Wizarding History programs outside of Europe," Severus noted, the color returning to his face. "They have several leading scholars on Wizarding British history, many of whom write actual academic articles instead of rags such as yours."
"Okay fine, you do know something about the war. Still, that doesn't mean I need you to comment on anything," she huffed.
"I don't need to comment on anything either," Severus argued.
"Oh c'mon, don't you want your side told? Don't you want a chance to clear the air, set everything right?"
"I want a chance to be left in peace."
"So you don't want to defend yourself in any way?"
"How can I defend myself? Your quill will twist every word I say. I'm better off not giving a comment."
"I'm wounded," she pretended to swoon. "I would never be intentionally inaccurate, well," she shifted her eyes, "not too much anyway."
"You heard Severus. He isn't giving you a comment," Ricardo argued.
"Wait, you can call him Severus?"
"Yes."
Rita stared at Ricardo's diamond ring. "That is interesting."
"Indeed, Jospeh has exquisite taste in jewelry. I'm lucky he decided to use it when he created my wedding ring," Ricardo answered.
"Oh," her face fell.
"You may show yourself out," Severus pointed to the door.
"Fine," she turned around. "I'm sure Hermione will be more than willing to give me an interview anyway."
"Don't you dare enter her store and harass her!"
Rita froze mid step, her eyes huge.
"If you harass Hermione in any way keep this in mind. I am quite friendly with the Chief Auror in this city. He has a way of losing track of cases. With all the tourists running around, he doesn't always know if a crime was committed by a local, or someone who caught the last flight to Denver. If it's the latter, that's unfortunate. The Colorado aurors are often less than cooperative when hunting down a suspect. They don't appreciate people infringing on there turf so to speak."
"A-are you threatening me?"
"I'm explaining simple cause and effect," Severus lowered his voice. "If you value your well-being, you will not go anywhere near Hermione."
"Fine," Rita huffed and stood up straighter. "She probably wouldn't have said anything interesting anyway."
"You need to leave before we charge you with trespassing," Ricardo warned.
"Fine, fine," Rita shook her head. "Everyone is so touchy around here. Must be the heat."
"Must be," Ricardo mused aloud.
"Anyway," she gave them one last parting glare, "expect to see my articles within the next few days. I'm sure you'll be riveted by what I write."
"We wait to file our libel lawsuit with bated breath," Ricardo noted.
She thumbed up her nose before stomping out.
Severus kept his eyes on Rita, ensuring she did not go across the street, nor that she turned into a bug and flew over there.
"Do you need me to pick up some bug repellant?" Ricardo asked.
"Give me the strongest one you can find."
"I will," he turned to Severus. "I will go to Wal Mart and get some. Then I will work on your order for your potions ingredients."
"Thank you," Severus handed him the list, unable to hide the trepidation in his eyes.
"At least Hermione isn't being harassed."
"Yes," he relaxed. "There's that."
Ricardo nodded before leaving, hoping that somehow, Hermione would know to come into the store, and could give Severus the comfort he needed.
Ginevra may not have been sorted into Slytherin, but that didn't mean she didn't scheme like one. If those she cared for were being dunderheads, she was all too happy to intervene.
Hermione and Severus looked at each other the way she and Draco did. They had their inside jokes, their affectionate glances, and waves before work. Almost every evening, they were together playing cards. Hermione continued to play despite losing almost every night. She hated losing! When she lost too much at a game, she refused to play it ever again, unless it was cards with Severus. If she insisted in playing a game she would always lose, then something must be drawing her to the dealer.
Unfortunately, Severus and Hermione were too stubborn for their own good. Given how many insecurities they had, they would never come together, at least not willingly. Someone needed to give them a push in the other's direction, but how?
Ginevra sat at an oak desk, a hand over her pelvis, lost in thought. Then, her lips curled upwards.
She had the perfect plan to get those two dunderheads together.