AN: I don't know if I'm going to be able to update next week. The upcoming week looks hectic for me, and I don't know if I can find time to post. Hopefully things calm down soon though.

Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!

Hermione couldn't tell Severus about Steven.

An hour before she apparated Severus' door, she had intended to tell him every last detail about her date. She wanted to tell him that only he was half the gentleman Steven was, only he had a better sense of humor than Steven, only he was as easy to speak to as Steven was, and only he was more attractive than Steven. Granted that last point didn't need to be said aloud. The last thing Severus needed to know was that she sometimes wondered what it would be like to play strip poker with him and see him drinking a piña colada shirtless.

Yet when she looked in Severus' eyes, the reality of her situation came crashing down on her. More time with Steven meant less time with Severus. This could lead to Severus feeling neglected and unimportant. This was the last thing Hermione ever wanted! As much as Steven thrilled her, Severus was the best friend she'd ever had. If he thought she had moved onto another man, he might drift away from her in a misguided attempt to be chivalrous, despite her wanting nothing more than for him to remain in her life forever. No, it was best to keep quiet and ensure Severus knew how special he was to her.

Besides, there may be no point in telling Severus about Steven. For all Hermione knew, Steven had returned home and forgotten her name. Sure, he seemed to enjoy her presence, but she'd been mistaken about a man being interested in her before. There was a chance Severus would never need to know about Steven.

As soon as Hermione apparated home, she saw a blond haired woman on her porch, tapping her foot and looking at her like she'd been out past curfew. In her hand was a parchment.

"Hermione," her tone was the same Madame Pince used when a student needed to be quiet in the library.

"Hello Melonie," Hermione approached her front door. "What brings you here?"

"This came via owl for you," Melonie handed Hermione the letter.

Hermione's heart fluttered as she undid the seal. The familiar aroma of herbs and mint cologne inundated her senses. Dare she hope it was from the man who haunted her daydreams?

Dearest Helen,

Words cannot express how much I enjoyed your company yesterday evening. I spent all night replaying our dinner together, before I closed my eyes and dreamt of you. You have captivated and ensnared me. I hope to never be released from your grasp.

Hermione blushed. No man had ever written such passionate words to her. It was as if this man had stepped out of a romance novel for the sole purpose of sweeping her off her feet.

All morning I have been yearning to be with you again. Perhaps I should have waited awhile longer to request another date, but I am an impatient man. I cannot wait one more moment to hear from you again. Would you like to have dinner with me next Friday at KoMex Fusion? I know it is not as fancy or flashy as Sinatra, but the food is adequate enough. Nothing would bring me more pleasure than your company.

Sincerely,

Steven

Hermione held the letter against her chest as her body heated up. Merlin this man knew how to make a woman feel special and wanted. She could see herself falling in love with him rather quickly.

"I take it you liked what you read," Melonie crossed her arms over her chest.

"It was a lovely letter." Hermione knew she was blushing and smiling like an idiot. She couldn't find it in herself to care.

"I'm glad I got the letter to you then. Odd that it was for someone named Helen too. I thought that was an odd thing to call you."

Hermione was only half paying attention, instead choosing to inhale the intoxicating aroma of herbs mixed with mint cologne.

Melonie's eyes softened. "How did last night go?"

"Excellent," Hermione answered.

"Great," Melonie twisted her foot. "You look happy for it to just be a business meeting."

"It was not a business meeting, but a blind date."

"Oh," Uncertainty crept into Melonie's eyes. "And it went well?"

"It went so much better than well. He was amazing, and such a gentleman. Everything he said was what I've always wanted a man to tell me. He's the most romantic person I've ever met."

"Great, so where does that leave your poker buddy?"

Hermione shrugged. "He will always be my friend. We will continue to play cards almost every night. I would never abandon him for another man."

"What does he think about this blind date?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione blanched.

"Your poker buddy is your best friend. Surely you've told him about this date," Melonie continued.

Hermione's eyes shifted to the ground.

"Hermione…"

She bit her lip.

"You didn't say anything about this date to him, did you?" Melonie was scolding her again.

"No, he didn't need to know about my date yet."

"I suppose that makes sense," Melonie relaxed. "It isn't like you're going to date this guy again."

Hermione looked up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you borrowed my hair, so he expects to see me, not you. I'm not going to date him, so you really can't either."

"Yes," Hermione's stomach dropped. "Steven did see you."

"His name is Steven," there was a gleam in Melonie's eyes, the same Ginny had when setting Hermione up on this date.

"Yes," the warmth returned to her body, "and he's amazing, just amazing."

"Great, then you'll be willing to meet him as yourself."

Hermione's body grew numb as her eyes widened. The scar on her arm began to itch, as if to remind her of its existence, waiting to be explained to a man who had no idea his date was Polyjuiced to look like her neighbor.

"Granted, it's going to be an awkward conversation," Melonie continued. "Then again, I'm sure you can explain the disguise as just being nervous. I'm just glad you're happy…"

"I need your hair!"

"Excuse me?" Melonie drawled.

"I need your hair." Hermione's eyes were wild with desperation.

"No," Melonie's voice was firm.

"Look, I know you said you'd only give me one strand…"

"And I meant it," Melonie held up a hand. "I was willing to help you out of a tricky business situation, but I'm not willing to keep up this facade."

"But I need your hair."

"No."

"Please, I promise not to do anything too embarrassing while I'm you."

"I know you won't humiliate me, but that doesn't mean I want someone in a body like mine running around dating someone else, not when I have my own boyfriend."

"You have a boyfriend?"

Melonie nodded. "At the moment he lives in Seattle, but he's planning on moving down here once he can find a job."

"So right now he won't notice if someone who looks like you is with a different man."

"No, but I don't want to risk it."

"Can't you just explain your helping out a friend and you have no idea who Steven is?"

Melonie exhaled and shook her head.

"Just explain what's happening and all will be resolved," Hermione continued. "I'm sure he'll consent to this plan if he knows you're helping out a friend."

"Even if I do explain everything and he consents to the plan, which I don't think he'll do, that doesn't help you in the long run," Melonie argued.

"Of course it does," Hermione admitted. "I get to be someone else, which is what I need."

"You're supposed to be yourself when you date someone."

"Maybe you can be yourself," Hermione's eyes shifted downwards. "Not all of us can be though. Some of us can't escape who we were."

"Look," Melonie put her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "I know you have some kind of history in Britain. I don't really know what it is, but it sounds like it wasn't pleasant."

"It's a terrible history," tears were clouding Hermione's eyes as she backed away from her neighbor.

Melonie lowered her hands.

"If Steven ever found out about everything I've done and what's happened to me, if he knew who I really was," Hermione swallowed at the image of him telling The Daily Prophet that he'd managed to date the elusive Hermione Granger, or worse, running away when he saw her Mudblood scar and making its existence public.

"Did," Melonie shook. "Did you kill someone?"

"I didn't murder anyone, but I fought in a war," Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Oh," Melonie swallowed. "I, I had no idea there was a war in Britain."

"It," Hermione's throat tightened, "it was one of the most terrible experiences of my life, but my actions made me famous, too famous."

"So you're like a war hero?"

"Sure, you could call me that," Hermione didn't know when the last time anyone had called her a hero. Perhaps nobody had ever called her that. Most days, she didn't feel like one, so there was no need to ever say the words.

"And you don't want people to recognize you?" Melonie's voice was soft.

Hermione nodded.

Melonie sighed. "It sounds like you need therapy, not a strand of my hair."

"It isn't that simple," Hermione's eyes hardened. "The happiest I've been in years is when I play cards with Severus. He's a great friend, but he doesn't make me feel like Steven does. Severus is kind, loyal, and witty, but he isn't a debonair gentleman like Steven. I like Severus, but I cannot see him sweeping me off my feet as if he was the second coming of Mr. Dracy. Steven on the other hand, he's special. Steven could be quite special to me if we're ever given a chance."

"If you want Steven to date you, he needs to know the real you."

"And he will when I'm ready."

"When will that be?"

"I'll let you know when it happens."

Melonie took a deep breath.

"Please," Hermione folded her hands. "I need a chance to be known as a normal person, as someone who isn't a famous war veteran. This, this is my one chance to be accepted by someone who can see who I am now, not who I was in Britain."

"Doesn't Severus already do that?"

"Yes, he does, but," Hermione held up the letter. "He doesn't talk to me like this. He isn't taking me to expensive restaurants. He isn't writing me love letters. I can't see him doing any of those things."

"I thought that's what you liked about him: he's as much of a recluse as you are so you don't need to go out every night. He doesn't smother you or say sweet words to get you in bed with him."

"True, and he doesn't need to change anything about himself. I cherish him as he is. Still, I want to feel special."

"Someone spending almost every evening with you isn't making you feel special?"

"Severus makes me feel special every time we see each other, whether it's waving to each other in the morning or playing cards in the evening. He always makes sure I know I'm the most special person in his life. Still, he," she pointed to the letter. "He doesn't write to me like this."

Melonie shook her head.

"Please, I'll give you anything if you'll just give me a strand of your hair."

"Anything?" Melonie's eyes flickered in interest.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Anything."

"Do you have some travel books on Seattle? I want to visit my boyfriend up there and see if I like it," Melonie replied. "If I like it, I may convince him to let me move there. Granted he wants to live somewhere warm and dry like here. Perhaps we'll have to have a long conversation about that when I see him next."

"Whatever books you want are yours," Hermione replied.

"Can I have another vocal technique book as well?" Melonie asked. "I am getting more out of the one I have than I thought I would."

"Sure."

"Okay," Melonie tensed. "Against my better judgment, I'll give you six strands of my hair."

"Thank you," Hermione relaxed.

"Once you go through them, you need to tell Steven who you are so you can have an honest relationship with him."

"Fine, I can do that."

"Alright," Melonie swallowed.

"Here, I can lead you inside where I can cut your hair," Hermione opened the door. "There's no need for you to hurt yourself giving me your hair."

"Thank you," Melonie gave her a small smile. "I appreciate the consideration."

"Sure," Hermione gestured for her to follow.

After cutting Melonie's hair and bidding her goodbye, Hermione read Steven's letter once more. Her heart fluttered as she formulated what to say, and imagined the sweet dreams she would have of him sweeping her off her feet.