There's Nothing to Fear

by FiftyShadesofSnape

A bonding bird, a secret love, and an ultimate fear. With the War over, Hermione struggles to find herself after the disappearance of her parents. The only person who is able to comfort her is someone no one would have expected. But maybe they should have...? Ignores most of DH. EWE? Some OOC moments. (PLEASE read A/N before starting)

33. Master Malfoy

January

Severus' stoicism was his greatest strength. A quiet fortitude that radiated through even the toughest of times. While others around him might have succumbed to despair or frustration, he faced challenges with an unflinching gaze, embodying resilience and a dark grace. His ability to accept sufferings without complaint or emotion served as a steady anchor for those who looked to him for guidance. In a world that often felt chaotic and unpredictable, his calm demeanor and thoughtful silence spoke volumes. It was as if he had mastered the art of stillness, reminding those around him that composure in the storm could lead to the most profound moments of clarity and connection.

His face was devoid of emotion as he spun around effortlessly to face the youngest Malfoy. He positioned himself such that Hermione was protected behind his left side. Severus ached to retort, "Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy,"but that was no longer accurate.

The demise of the Malfoys was inevitable after the Dark Lord's downfall. Lucius earned his spot in Azkaban, but Narcissa was shown leniency. In the aftermath, it was Harry who vouched for her. After all, shedidsave him. Harry played more of a role in sentencing than he would have liked, but the Ministry trusted his knowledge of Death Eater involvement. He was hesitant to participate, but eventually supplied crucial details, ensuring the remaining followers faced the consequences of their actions.

Severus always knew that Narcissa acquiesced to her husband's every demand, even when her heart whispered in defiance. Trapped in a web of fear.Yes, he watched over Draco as a promise, but also out of a sense of protectiveness. Lucius was as rotten as they come, and Narcissa was too self-absorbed in appearances to realize that she was slowing losing her son. Severus quickly recognized Draco's caustic demeanor was less of a personality flaw, and due more in part to neglect. Draco did not return to Hogwarts after the War, and Severus only assumed the reasons why. He hadn't the faintest cluewhyDraco would be in New York.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus' tone was curt. He was suspicious.Are we being followed?His eyes scanned the surrounding area. Hermione stood quietly behind him.

Draco moved in stride to close the gap between them. Severus held his ground, but instinct dictated his protectiveness over Hermione.

"This is a sight to see-," Draco started.

"Choose your next words carefully, Mr. Malfoy," Severus snarled. Severus anticipated snark from the boy about the relationship standing in front of him.

For a split second, disappointment crossed Draco's face, and Severus noticed.

Something unusual happened next. Draco stuttered. "I- I'm sorry Professor. It's been quite some time since I have seen a familiar face." He dropped his head slightly. "Nice to see you, too, Granger."

Severus felt Hermione tense and the sound of her name. She barely managed to get out a "hello," before Severus added, "Mr. Malfoy, quite a surprise, unfortunately, we are otherwise engaged. Severus started to turn and usher Hermione away, "Wait!" Draco begged. Severus stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Hermione stared at Draco with a vacant expression.

"I'm sorry," Draco started painfully, "I don't know what else to say. Even if I did, I know it wouldn't be good enough. I'm sorry for my father. I'm sorry for my mother. I'm sorry forme. I can't say that I acted only because of my parents, but my fucked-up family didn't raise me to know anything else, and neither did anyone they kept around me." Draco's face was distressed.

Severusalmostfelt bad for Draco. But not quite. He stared at Draco with a mix of indifference and disapproval, feeling little sympathy for the young man. Draco represented the very privilege and entitlement that had shaped hisownpainful past; the Malfoy name was steeped in arrogance and a legacy of prejudice.

Severus saw in Draco a boy who had been raised in a world of dark expectations, yet Severus believed that the choices one made were ultimately what defined a person. Rather than pitying Draco for the burdens of his family, Severus felt a stern resolve that Draco needed to face the consequences of his upbringing, just as Severus faced his own demons. In his eyes, vulnerability was a weakness that Draco had to overcome, not an excuse to elicit sympathy. And ifSeverusfelt no sympathy, he was certain that Hermione feltless thannone.

"Do you know how much pain you caused?" Hermione's voice was a strained whisper. In shock at her words, Severus broke his stern resolve just for a moment to glance at her.

She pushed herself through Severus' protective hold, so she was staring directly at Draco. "Do you know what I had to give up? Why I'm in America when I should be home celebrating with my friends?" Her whisper started to turn into a shriek, and although Severus stood by ready to intervene, if necessary, he was not quite quick enough to stop Hermione from pointing her wand at the center of Draco's forehead before shouting, "Do you know what I lost?" Severus could hear Draco swallow loudly.

A moment passed that could have been forever. Hermione lowered her wand. Her face was full of disgust.

"No," Draco whispered, "I don't. But I think I do now." He raised his eyes to Hermione. "I have nothing. I lost everyone. And I don't say that for sympathy, I know I don't deserve any." His head dropped. Severus took note that this was likely the only time Draco had ever lowered his head to a Muggle-born witch.

He continued, "You have no idea how it feels right now. How it feels to see someone that Iknew. Loneliness kills something inside of you so slowly, that you go mad craving familiarity so much that you would give anything to go back to shit just to feel something familiar."

Hermione said nothing. Severus took his cues from Hermione. As much as hewascurious about Draco's life after the War, he would never subject her to anything that would hurt her. Ever observant, Draco acknowledged the silence.

"Right. I am sorry. It was nice to see you both. Happy New Year."

Draco raised his hand in a limp wave and started to walk away from the pair.

"Have a drink with us?" A soft feminine voice croaked. Hermione could feel the confused obsidian eyes pouring over her face in disbelief. She took Severus' hand and squeezed it gently.

"Are you sure?" Severus whispered to her.Of course not,Hermione thought to herself.

"It'll be fine," she whispered back.

The blonde-haired man looked graciously toward Hermione. "Really? I just-," Draco started.

"Don't," Hermione insisted, "let's go talk somewhere."

Half forgetting that she'd never been to New York City before, and had no idea where they could even go, Hermione also had no idea what to expect. She started to panic.What is wrong with you?! Why would you want to sit with him? Why do you care what the hell he's been doing?!Hermione tried to pretend that she wasn't the least bit curious as to why Draco was in America, but being curious was always her great downfall. She breathed a sigh of relief when Draco indicated that he had the perfect place.

The trio walked down Fifth Avenue in silence for what seemed like an eternity until they reached a small, yet elegant, restaurant. The black façade was adorned with the most exquisite lanterns fit for a castle and,definitely, emblazoned by magic. Just above the entrance was a simple cursive "S," illuminated by soft white and emerald lights. He opened the door and motioned for Hermione and Severus to go ahead of him.

Hermione could feel Severus checking for magic. She gave him a forced, but reassuring smile. The magic wasn't lost on Draco either. He chuckled.

"I wish I could be offended that you don't trust me, but I don't think that will ever happen in my lifetime." His eyes met Severus', who gave a tight smirk.

The door shut silently after Draco.

The place was immaculate. If Hermione knew anything about New York City, it was from watching fictional Muggle television shows where everything seemed so rich and glamorous. The entire restaurant from the bar to the floors was the deepest cherry wood she had ever seen. So deep it was almostblack. Stunning chandeliers appeared to float just below the ceiling. The décor was simple: emerald walls were etched with silver fleurs-de-lis. Hermione smirked at the nod to his House.

"Hey there, boss!" A young, attractive woman with waist-length raven hair winked at Draco. She smiled at Hermione.

"Natalie," Draco nodded back, "we'll take window table upstairs. Would you bring us menus and wine, please?" The young woman smiled in agreement.

Hermione about fell to the floor hearing Draco speak so kindly to this woman, who she sensed, was a Muggle.

He led them up a black iron winding staircase to the second floor. "This is my place,S." As if he read their minds, he continued, "I know. It's bizarre.Me, in food service? With Muggles nonetheless." Hermione smirked internally for catching that about Natalie. "Crazy times."

He led them to the furthest table from the stairs, placed directly in front of a large glass window directly onto the cityscape. It was beautiful. Severus helped Hermione out of her coat, and the pair sat across from Draco.

Right on cue, Natalie appeared with menus, a bottle, and three wine glasses. She was stunning. And definitely someone Draco would have pursued at Hogwarts, aside from the fact that she wasnothinglike someone Draco would have pursued at Hogwarts.

"Welcome in!" She smiled, "Wow, it's so nice to see Mr. Mallory with friends!"

Hermione and Severus exchanged confused looks that did not escape Draco.

"Thanks, Nat.See, I told you I had friends." He laughed awkwardly. Natalie started to pour the wine. "I guess seeing is believing," she smirked. "I'll give you three a moment and I'll be back to take your order." Natalie finished pouring and left the trio.

"Mallory?" Severus scoffed. "HasMalfoylost its appeal?" Hermione kicked him under the table. She hated Draco, but she wouldn't stoop to his level.

"Nah. That's fair. I deserve any and all snide and rude commentary you have." He gestured to the menus, "The foodisgreat though, so have at it."

Hermione would never have admittedanythingto Draco, but she was admittedly starving. Plane food washorrid. She glanced over the menu:Italian. "This looks good," she responded softly. Hermione's eyes lingered over the words for much longer than necessary because she had no idea what to say to her former classmate.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Severus probed. Hermione relaxed. She could always count on him to get right to the point. She began to nurse her glass of wine, much to Severus' chagrin.

"The Ministry destroyed my house. I almost wish Potter had sent my mother to Azkaban because at least she would have had a place to live. If it wasn't for her draining our Gringott's accounts just before the War, we would have been fucked." Draco glanced at Severus. "Well, and I'm sure you heard about my piece of shit father." Severus gestured slightly with his head. Hermione, on the other hand, had no idea.

"No…?" She started. Draco held up a finger. Hermione sensed someone was coming over.

"Are you ready?" Natalie was back. Smiling again.

"The pasta, please," Hermione smiled back.

"Steak. Rare, please." Severus didnotsmile back.

Natalie turned to Draco, "The usual?" He nodded at her. Natalie collected the menus, topped off the wine, and left.

"The very last thing my father tried to do was kill me," Draco spoke bluntly to Hermione. "Well actually," he continued, "he tried to get me confined to Azkaban with him. Told anyone who would listen thatIkilled Dumbledore, thatImade sure Death Eaters got into Hogwarts, and thatIhad been conspiring with Voldemort to overthrow the Ministry." Severus snorted at that last statement.

"Yeah, I know," Draco laughed. "I'm lucky I could make it through Charms class, but apparently,I'mgoing to overthrow a government. Little did he know that Potter had already told them everything, about all of us, mother included." He looked at Hermione, "Wasn't a great look trying to throw your son under the bus."

"Anyway, they took his wand during the investigation for obvious reasons. The day he was sentenced, my mother begged me to go with her. I had no interest in ever seeing him again, but I think mother was beside herself with grief, so I went. I still have no idea how he managed to get it in but just as the Minister was reading off his charges, he pulled out a Muggle gun. Got me right here," he tugged at his dress shirt to show a scar that looked to be a mere inch from his heart.

"I was lucky. I know I didn't deserve it when so many others weren't."

"And your house?" Both Severus and Draco were startled at Hermione's question, but Draco took it as a reassuring step forward and continued.

"The Ministry claimed it was all copacetic. That they were just looking for evidence. But I didn't realize you could collect evidence with fire." The sadness was starting to creep into his words. Hermione felt bad for asking. "I think that was the moment that I realized I didn't have any reason to stay. My life burned away with all my worldly possessions. I told mother that I was leaving, and she could come with me or not, but I wasn't staying there." He shrugged, "I think she wanted so much for people to just forget everything. You know, 'It wasn'tus, it wasfather.' But we all know that wasn't the case."

At that moment, Natalie appeared with the food. Hermione was relieved to see something that she could finally soak up the wine with. Natalie set down plates in front of Hermione and Severus, and a teacup with saucer in front of Draco. She placed her hand softly on his shoulder.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything." With a final smile, she disappeared.

Hermione immediately started to eat. It was every bit as good as Draco promised.

Draco took a sip out of the teacup. "We really had nothing to pack, so we left that night. Came to New York first to stay with a cousin in Manhattan, then to Massachusetts. Thanks to you." He nodded at Severus, who chose this exact moment to find his steak the most interesting thing in the world. Hermione looked between the two of them, "I have no idea what that means…?" Severus' head stayed low.

"My mother was desperate for me to finish school. Professor here saw to it that Ilvermorny took me in, and I finished my last year there." Hermione swallowed that statement with a gulp of wine.

"On the weekends I would travel to New York. It's a long boring story, but I got into real estate and never looked back. I was coming back from looking at a new property when I saw you two tonight." He set the teacup down.

"Draco," Hermione started, "whereisyour mother?"

"She's upstairs," he laughed. "We live above this place. I truly couldn't bear to leave her alone. She's-," he paused, "she's different now."

"We all are." Hermione added.

"I am probably crossing all sorts of lines, but you have to know that I wonder what on earth the two of you are doing here?"

Hermione had no idea what to say. Nothing they were doing was his business, but the last hour, if anything, only showed that this was not the same boy she went to school with. She felt Severus' eyes on her.

"Before the War started, I Obliviated my parents, but now I have no idea where they are. I'm trying to find them and hopefully reverse it." She was fighting hard to hold back tears. "And Severus, well, he is- I mean, we are-," Hermione looked to Severus for help.

"I am hers for as long as she allows me to be," Severus finished bluntly.

Draco understood. "I s'pose that makes a lot of sense." He smiled kindly, yet mischievously. Hermione breathed a sigh relief when he moved on.

"Where are you staying?" Draco inquired. Hermione put her hand over her eyes, "The St. Regis," she responded shyly. "It's so ridiculous, but Severus insisted we stay in New York the 'right way'". Severus rolled his eyes at her air quotes.

Draco chuckled at the response. "That's a great place. Everyone should experience it at least once in this lifetime." He tapped his Muggle watch with his finger and the clock illuminated to life-2:14AM. "I'll be right back." He pulled a Muggle cell phone out of his pocket and showed it to them, "Duty calls." Draco rose from the chair and walked to the back of the seating area, disappearing into what Hermione thought was a staff room.

As soon as she believed him to be out of earshot, she shot a look at Severus, "This is weird, right?" She reached for her fourth glass of wine, not quite sure how it managed to never empty. Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Are we forgetting what happened last time you went out for 'just a glass' of wine?" Hermione laughed, and put a finger to her lips, "shhh".

Severus rolled his eyes. "I apologize for not being forthcoming about my previous interactions with Draco and his mother. At the time, truly, I never anticipated ever seeing him again."

Hermione smiled. "It's okay. Honestly, I'm glad you helped him." As if reading his thoughts from earlier, she continued. "Truthfully, I never really thought heactuallywanted to act the way he did. I don't think he really had a choice."

"No. He did not." Severus confirmed. "And while she wasn't entirely innocent, his mother did not either." He turned away from Hermione for a moment.

"What neither of you know is that Narcissa contacted me not long after Lucius' trial, begging me to take Draco in. She had no idea what she was going to do. I thought that unwise, so I reached out to a colleague at Ilvermorny. Luckily, they agreed to the late enrollment, but I highly doubt it was a popular choice amongst the other students."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Why didn't you take him in?," she questioned. Severus laughed curtly.

"I already had no intentions of being alive. I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of using my second chance to play 'father'."

Hermione looked away quickly and reached for her glass. She suddenly felt awkward. They had never discussed children. It was much too soon, but was it that obviously something Severus didn't want?Do I want that?Hermione's thoughts started to race.

Of course, Severus noticed. "I didn't want to be Draco'skeeper, Hermione. Don't read into that."

Too late because now she was reading intothatstatement. Luckily, Draco arrived back just in time to eliminate any additional awkwardness.

"Sorry 'bout that. I'm trying to acquire a new property. Checking in on New Year's Eve attendance." He sat down, looking serious.

"I don't think you realize just how much you being here means to me. I'm not asking for friendship, just the knowledge that if our paths ever cross again, we can embrace the company of each other. If you need anything while you are here, please let me know." He slid a business card across the table:

D. Mallory

Licensed Real Estate Agent

(212) 753-4500

Hermione looked it. "Mallory?"

Draco laughed. "Did you honestly think people would forget the name Malfoy?" He continued, "I was proud when I got to Ilvermorny. I thought I would just own the name. Prove I was more than that. That I wasn't my father. It was torture. Looking back, I see the irony as to how I acted at Hogwarts. I changed it once I got out." He shrugged.

"Thank you," Hermione started, "honestly, I'm not sure what I really expected but I'm glad you're okay." She hesitated. "If you're ever back home, let us know."

Now, Hermionewasdrunk, and itwasdark, but she would have bet her last Galleon that Draco's eyes filled with tears.

"I think it's time we take our leave," Severus voiced quietly, not wanting to ruin moment that his former House student had likely been waiting for some time. Two of them rose effortlessly, and one stumbled up. Severus grabbed Hermione's arm gently and helped her down the stairs. A smiling Natalie was drying glasses behind the bar.

"It was so nice meeting you!" Hermione hadn't realized how strong her New York accent was. "I hope you'll visit us again soon."

Severus stepped outside first. Hermione lingered at the doorframe and turned to Draco.

"I hope you know that woman likes you alot," she implored.

Draco laughed. "Well, I would hope so. That's my wife."

Hermione stared incredulously at Draco.

It was astonishing, really, how much people had the capacity to change. Draco Malfoy, of all people—someone who sneered at the very idea of mingling with Muggleborns, let alone Muggles—marrying one? Hermione would have laughed at the notion back at Hogwarts. Draco was so deeply entrenched in his family's ideology, so unwavering in his belief in pure-blood superiority. But war changes people, doesn't it? Maybe it stripped away the illusions he clung to, or maybe he finally saw the futility in dividing people by blood.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a strange sense of respect for him now. To make a choice like that, to reject the values he was raised with—it must have taken immense courage. Andlove.Perhaps there's more to Draco than I ever gave him credit for.

Hermione reached her hand out, which Draco accepted. "Perhaps next time," Hermione started, "you can introduce us to your wife." A small smile escaped her lips.

Draco looked at Severus, "Sir." Severus responded with a short, "Malfoy," and the two of them walked slowly, arm and arm, down Fifth Avenue.

The walk fromSto the St. Regis felt like an eternity to Hermione. She was not used to just how longonecity block was in New York City. Severus kept pleading with her to apparate, but Hermione wanted to take in everything: the lights, the sounds, the smells.

If someone had told Hermione a year ago that she'd be wandering the streets of New York City with Severus Snape, of all people—hand in hand, no less—she would have thought them utterly mad. And yet, there they were.

The city was overwhelming in every sense of the word. The chaos of the city even at 3 a.m. felt like stepping into another world, the lights dazzling and disorienting all at once. Hermione clung to Severus' arm, not because she needed him to guide her, but because his presence steadied her.

He pretended to scoff at the spectacle, muttering something about "gratuitous Muggle ostentation," but there was a softness in his expression that betrayed him. His dark eyes, so often shadowed by anger or sorrow, flickered with something akin to curiosity.

As they walked in silence, Hermione's thoughts drifted from Draco to her parents—and the uncertainty that continued to gnaw at her since Severus introduced her to Bill.Will I even find them here? And if I do, will they want to return to the life I took from them to keep them safe?

Severus held her hand tightly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of her hand. As if reading her thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Hermione didn't want to ruin the evening, but she relied on Severus for comfort and reassurance probably more than she would like to admit.

"What if I can't find them?"

"Whether or not you find them, Hermione, you've already reclaimed something far more important: yourself."

The revelation hit her. It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was the one she needed.

The meaning settled over her like a slow sunrise. For so long, she defined herself by the role she played in the war—the girl who fought, who sacrificed, who bore the weight of responsibility. She buried her own desires beneath duty and guilt, even after the war ended. Searching for her parents was the last thread tying her to that past. But being here, with Severus, felt different. He would never ask her to be the perfect Gryffindor or the clever witch who always had the answers. He saw her as she was now—messy, uncertain, and sometimes a little lost.

She looked at him, bathed in the warm glow of a nearby streetlamp, and realized something else. This man—who has endured so much and loved so deeply, even when it brought him nothing but pain—had become her anchor in a way she never thought possible. They walked back to the hotel in silence, but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind. It was a silence filled with understanding, with shared breaths and stolen glances. Hermione reveled in the sounds around her. It was nothing like the quiet life she thought she wanted, but it was perfect in its own way.

When they reached the entrance to the hotel, Severus squeezed her hand as he often did when he sensed she needed comfort, and Hermione felt something she hadn't in a long time: peace.

He pulled her close and whispered, "The search changes the seeker." As comforting as Severus intended those words to be, Hermione felt nothing but a shiver of anticipation. For tomorrow. For him. Forthem. She brushed her lips softly against his.

"Let's go." She smiled coyly.

Severus opened their hotel room door and rolled his eyes. He tried hard to not make a scene in the lobby, but check-in wasinfuriating.How Malfoy does this on a daily basis I will never understand.

He knew exactly what room he booked: deluxe queen room, northward facing. He wanted Hermione to be able to see Central Park. Theidiotin the lobby had assured him that he had booked something else. Something "better". After several minutes, Hermione pleaded with him to just let the cowering man take them to their room.

The three of them stepped into a spacious elevator. The silence and the scene in the lobby all but had the bellhop stuck to the opposite side of the elevator from Severus and Hemione, hiding behind the luggage trolly. Severus couldn't help but smirk at the scene.

They rode in silence to the highest floor. When the elevator doors opened, the bellhop flung himself out of the elevator, nearly tripping over the trolly. He fumbled nervously with the key card but eventually opened the door to what appeared to be a lavish penthouse. Severus watched Hermione step through slowly in awe. He thanked the bellhop and handed him an undisclosed amount of cash. Hermione snorted.

"If you-you need anything, anything atall, please just call downstairs. Ask for me, Joseph. I will be here." With a bow, he departed the room at warped speed.

"You know youcouldbe a little nicer to people. This room is amazing. Why all the fuss?" Hermione was running her fingers over the smooth granite countertops in the kitchenette.

"There's no fussnow," Severus rolled his eyes, "because this roomisnicer than the one I reserved. I wonder what happened."

Hermione could feel the air around her change as Severus muttered basic wards around the room. She walked over to a large wooden dining room table. A large bouquet of roses was in a glass vase in the center. She spotted a card just below and picked it up. On the front was an emerald-green cursiveS.She turned it over:

Whatever you need, we will make sure you get.

Oh, I own this place, too.

P.S. If you are in need of 'supplies' for your endeavor, I can assist.

Hermione smiled. She walked to Severus, waving the card at him.Draco.Severus seriously underestimated the boy. His change was so shocking that if he hadn't experienced it himself, he never would have believed it.

Severus could sense that neither one of them was going to sleep anytime soon. As much as he loathed extended periods of time in a big city, he could sense the buzz of the night life emanating from Hermione. He watched her take in every facet of the room, every inch of the floor to ceiling windows. She made her way across the dining room to a freestanding minibar.

"Ooo, what do we have here." Her eyes glowed devilishly. She ran her fingers over the intricate glass decanters. Severus watched as she slowly decantered a dark liquid and poured the contents into two ice filled glasses. She carried the glasses over to Severus, who took his willingly. Grabbing his free hand, Hermione pulled him with her to the large plush couch in the center of the room. It had started to rain shortly after their arrival to the hotel, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to justbewith Severus. She molded herself into his chest and allowed her head to rest on him. She could feel him relax immediately, and she wished that he knew she felt the same against his touch tenfold.

The rain blurred the glittering cityscape outside, streaks of silver against the warm glow of the hotel room. Her fingers lingered on the rim of her glass, more to steady herself than out of any real need for a drink. They'd been here before—this moment, this charged silence—but it felt heavier now, weighted by the events of that evening and the reality they were about to face tracking down her parents.

"This feels different," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the rain beating against the windows.

He didn't answer right away, his dark eyes fixed on her with that same unrelenting intensity she'd come to recognize as uniquely his. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Does it? Or are you overthinking again?"

She shot him a look, a playful glare that didn't quite mask the quickening of her pulse. "You know I don't overthink. I analyze."

"Semantics," he said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "Either way, it's predictable."

She rolled her eyes, shifting her body so she was looking up at him. "Predictable?" she repeated. "What's predictable is you sitting there acting as if you're not thinking the exact same thing."

"Am I?" he asked, his hand resting lightly on her cheek as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it was, after all these months—touching her, pulling her closer, the quiet moments in between kisses when the world outside ceased to matter.

"You are," she said, her voice quieter now, the challenge giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. Her fingers rested lightly on his hand, her eyes searching his for the answer to a question she didn't need to ask aloud.

He pulled her face closer to his, so Hermione was met with a gaze unyielding but warm. "Then perhaps," he murmured, his voice like velvet, "we should stop pretending this is new."

She didn't have a chance to respond before his lips found hers, a kiss as familiar as it was electric. It wasn't hurried—neither of them rushed anymore—but it carried the weight of the storm outside, a force they couldn't ignore even if they tried. Her hands slid up to tangle in his hair, his fingers moving to pull her closer with a quiet possessiveness that made her breath hitch.

When they broke apart, her forehead rested against his, her laughter soft and breathless. "You're impossible," she said, though her tone lacked any real bite.

"And yet," he replied, his lips brushing hers in the faintest ghost of a kiss, "you don't seem to mind."

"I might," she teased, though her smile gave her away as her fingers tightened slightly in his hair. "If you don't stop smirking like that."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin as he pulled her closer, the city lights painting shifting patterns across their silhouettes. "I'll risk it," he said, his tone laced with a rare playfulness. "After all, you've never been able to resist proving me wrong."

As the kiss ended, Hermione's head rested lightly against Severus' chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing calming her in a way she hadn't expected. The scent of her—clean, with a faint hint of cedar—wrapped around her, familiar now but no less intoxicating. She felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath her fingertips, a rhythm that belied the stoic mask he wore so well.

Her thoughts churned in a quiet storm of their own.How had they gotten here?Months ago, the idea of Severus Snape stepping this far into her life—her heart—would have seemed impossible, a fantasy too ludicrous to entertain. But now, being here in this room, in this city, the impossible felt like the only truth that mattered. She had fought so long to find clarity in a world of chaos, yet with him, the lines blurred in a way that somehow felt right.

She tilted her head back to look up at him, searching his face. His eyes, dark and unreadable to so many, held a softness she'd come to recognize as reserved for her alone. It was a startling intimacy, this glimpse behind the walls he'd built so high. She wondered if he felt the same quiet awe she did, the sense of inevitability that lingered between them, as though their paths had always been leading here.

Severus, meanwhile, felt the familiar tug of conflicting emotions that only she could evoke. Years of discipline had taught him to keep his feelings in check, to present the world with a man who could not be shaken. And yet, she unraveled him with a touch, with a glance, in ways that both terrified and exhilarated him.

He'd told himself, time and again, that letting her in was a mistake. That his world—his past—would only drag her down. But Hermione Granger was not one to be deterred by obstacles, and over time, he'd stopped resisting the pull of her presence. She challenged him, teased him, saw parts of him he hadn't known still existed. And as much as he hated to admit it, he craved that.

Looking down at her now, her lips swollen from their kiss and her cheeks flushed, he felt a sharp pang of something dangerously close to hope. It was a foreign emotion; one he wasn't sure he trusted. But in this moment, with her fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt and her eyes searching his, he thought maybe—just maybe—hope wasn't the worst thing to feel.

"You're quiet," she said softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts.

"So are you," he countered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against his chest in an absentminded gesture. "I was just thinking… it's strange, isn't it? How easy this feels. How right."

He let out a soft huff of air, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "Strange, perhaps. But not wrong."

Her gaze softened at his words, a warmth spreading through her that felt as though it could light up the entire city. She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest once more, and closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the rare stillness of the moment.

He wrapped an arm around her and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. For once, he allowed himself to linger in the comfort of her presence, the storm outside a quiet echo of the one raging within him. And as they stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the city lights, he realized that perhaps he didn't need to fight this anymore. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he could simply let himself feel.

Hermione struggled to open her eyes the next morning. Jet lag, alcohol, and former classmates was not a great mix. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ornate ceiling, listening to Severus breath slowly. The reality of why they were in New York started to overwhelm her. As positive as Severus tried to remain for Hermione's sake, she knew that was the only reason why he did so.

What if she'd already lost them?The question pulsed in her mind, steady and unrelenting. She had spent years telling herself that finding her parents was a matter of time, a puzzle she could piece together with enough effort and skill. But as the months turned into years, reality had begun to creep in. What if the memories she had erased were unrecoverable? What if they had rebuilt their lives, unburdened by the daughter who had vanished from their minds?

She shifted, curling onto her side, her fingers clutching the blanket as if it could anchor her. The possibility that she might never find them, or worse, that they wouldn'twantto be found, was a quiet terror she didn't know how to voice. She had done what she thought was right, but that didn't make the consequences any easier to bear. Would they look at her with recognition if she succeeded? Or would they see only a stranger—a ghost of a life they no longer remembered?

Her chest ached with the weight of it all, a deep, hollow throb that no logic or reassurance could soothe. She closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, to focus on the warmth of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. But even in this quiet moment, the doubts loomed large, crowding her mind. She had always been able to solve the unsolvable, but now she wasn't sure if determination alone would be enough.

Hermione's gaze drifted toward the faint outline of Severus, still asleep beside her. His breathing was deep and even, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw during waking hours. There was a quiet comfort in his presence, a steadiness that grounded her, even now. She studied the sharp lines of his profile, the faint crease between his brows that lingered even in rest, and felt a warmth stir in her chest.Could this—could he—be enough?

It was a question she hadn't dared to confront until now, tangled as it was with guilt and longing. The ache for her parents was constant, a dull throb beneath everything else. They were her foundation, the people who had shaped her and loved her before she even knew the wizarding world existed. The idea of letting go of them, of accepting that they might never return to her life, felt like a betrayal. But wasn't she betraying herself, too, by holding onto a hope that might never materialize?

Severus stirred, his hand brushing hers beneath the blankets, a small, unconscious gesture that sent a flicker of reassurance through her. Life with him wasn't simple—nothing with Severus ever was—but it wasreal. He challenged her, understood her in ways she hadn't expected, and gave her a space to be fully herself. In the moments they shared, she felt something she hadn't realized she was searching for: a sense of belonging, of being seen and wanted not for what she could do, but simply for who she was.

But would that be enough to fill the void left by her parents? Could she build a life with Severus, one that wasn't defined by what she had lost but by what they could create together? The thought scared her as much as it intrigued her. She wasn't sure if she could let go of the search, of the relentless drive to fix what she had broken. And yet, the idea of leaning fully into this—intohim—temptedher in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Her fingers moved to brush his, a light touch she wasn't sure he'd notice in his sleep. Could she allow herself to want this, to want him, without feeling as though she was abandoning the people who had given her everything? Or was it possible to hold both truths—that she could miss her parents desperately and still find happiness in the life she had now?

As Severus shifted, his eyes flickering open briefly to meet hers, she felt the weight of his steady gaze and the quiet promise it held. Perhaps the answer wasn't about choosing one over the other. Perhaps it was about learning to live in the in-between, where loss and love could coexist. And perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't have to figure it all out right now.

Severus reached for her under the blankets and pulled her close. "What could possibly have you so deep in thought this early in the morning?"

Hermione rolled over to face him. Now that he knew the mental wards she constantly had up, it was useless to lie. "My parents." There was little affect in her tone, and the lack of emotion startled her.

"We willfindthem," Severus implored. He reached out to gently touch her cheek. "I won't lie to you, it may not be easy, but we will do all we can and stay here as long as it takes."

Hermione snorted at that. "Severus, I appreciate your support and optimism, but we cannot possibly stay here more than a few weeks. I can't possibly miss that much time off studying, and you will need to return to your duties before more people suspect something else is going on."

Severus furrowed his brow. As much as he wanted to believe that they could spend as much time as necessary to find her parents, he knew that was not feasible.

"I know."

He watched cautiously as Hermione rolled slowly out of bed and stretched lazily in front of the curtained windows. She drew them so the smallest amount of sunlight spilled into the room.

Still staring out the window, she questioned the dark-haired man now sitting up at the edge of the bed.

"So, what is the plan?"

Severus walked to join her at the window. "Truthfully, my plan was to start with the obvious. But I think we should sit down at talk before we initiate the plan." Hermione looked up at him, confused.

"Talk about what?"

"Hermione, I know you understand the different levels of an Obliviate." Hermione turned away from him. Other that the bare minimum, she and Severus had never actually discussed the memory charm at length. She didn't want to.

"Maybe we should get ready first." She started to walk away from Severus, but he grabbed her hand.

"Talking about this isn't easy. I understand that. But wehaveto. It very well could mean the difference between finding them and not finding them." His dark eyes bore into hers.

Hermione understoodwhythey needed to talk about it, but it didn't make the conversation any easier.What if I did it incorrectly? What if he determines it's unreversible?Those were the questions she had tortured herself with since she cast the charm. She thought that by avoiding them altogether, she'd avoid disappointment. She was wrong.

"What if I made a mistake," she whispered. "What if it was too much? It's so painful to think about the permanency of the situation, even know I knew it had the potential to be so."

She walked away from him. "I know everyone would tease me about being the 'brightest witch' of my age, but deep down, Ilovedthat. I love knowing things- everything. Iloveknowing more than people around me. I just assumed that I would solve it, that I would figure it out like I always do. Looking back, that was prideful." Her tone turned bitter.

Bitterness was a strange weight to see on someone so young, and yet it clung to her like a fog, coiling around the sharp edges of her intellect. Severus knew that particular poison too well—how it gnawed at ambition, twisted idealism into cynicism, and left one hollow even in moments of triumph.

Hermione was a brilliant student, perhaps the brightest he'd ever known, but the bitterness he saw simmering beneath her surface was a warning sign he recognized all too keenly. Could she learn to temper it, to transform that sharp, bitter energy into something useful? Or would it consume her, as it had nearly consumed him in his youth? A fleeting pang of concern stirred in his chest. The parallels were undeniable, and they made him uncomfortably aware of how close he himself had come to being lost.

"Hermione, why must you stew in silence, nursing bitterness like a child hoarding sweets? Tell me, where exactly do you think this path leads?" It wasn't often now, but Severus found some situations warranted him to turn back into the role of professor with her.

Hermione frowned. "I don't know... It's not like I want to feel this way. But it's hard not to when it keeps happening."

Severus' voice was low and deliberate, "Bitterness is an insidious thing. It feels justified at first, even righteous. But it corrodes you from within, blinding you to everything except your grievances. Trust me, I know."

Hermione turned to face him. Severus put his hands on her shoulders and continued, "It nearly destroyed me. Do not make the same mistake. You have a sharp mind, and ambition to match. But if you allow bitterness to fester, it will twist those gifts into something unrecognizable—and ultimately useless."

"So what should I do, then? Just... ignore it? Ignore the feeling that I shouldn't have tried to handle that on my own?" Her voice was quiet.

"No. Address it, but not with spite." Severus shook his head. "Let your achievements speak for themselves. Prove your worth not by questioning your actions but acknowledging their merit and purpose."

"I'll try." She sighed.

"Bitterness may be familiar, but it is never your ally." Something in his eyes revealed that this conversation was more for Severus than for Hermione, but she was grateful for the forewarning.

The silence hung between them like a drawn curtain, heavy and full of unspoken questions. It wasn't an empty silence, but one brimming with thoughts unsaid, each of them carefully weighing their next words. The moment felt fragile, a delicate balance on the brink of something important, and neither dared to disturb it without purpose.

Severus' preparedness to change the subject was overpowered by Hermione's newly discovered resolve.

"I understood that Obliviate could be performed in a couple ways. I didn't want to eraseeverything, I just wanted to devoid their memories of me, andmealone. Honestly, that was all I focused on during the incantation. That they did not have a daughter. I thought that would make it easy enough to find them because it wouldn't change much about their lives." Hermione spoke matter-of-factly, making sure she reiterated everything she could remember to Severus.

"That is immensely helpful. If nothing else changed other than the memories of you, we have really only one place we can consider."

Severus watched in silence as the familiar spark ignited in Hermione's eyes, a light he had come to anticipate and quietly cherish. It was like watching the dawn break after a long, dark night—her thoughts catching fire, her expression transforming with the sheer force of her intellect as it came alive.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, and a faint smile ghosted her lips, betraying the thrill of discovery. He knew that look too well, that relentless hunger for answers, but in her, it was something far more captivating. It wasn't just her brilliance—it was the way she moved through the world with such fierce determination, as if no challenge could stand against her. He felt his chest tighten, an ache born of longing, as he realized just how deeply he wished to be part of the light that drove her.

"Dental offices." Her voice pitched higher and before Severus could agree, she wrapped her arms around him so fiercely, it was as if it would be her last time. That thought emboldened Severus, and he returned the gesture with matched enthusiasm.

The embrace was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Wait here," Severus cautioned Hermione protectively. Severus paced quickly to the door and peered into the small viewing lens on the door. Hermione saw his wand relax, as he opened the door to a determined Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, surely a note would have been more appropriate for this time of morning," Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione closed the gap between them quickly. "Draco? What's going on." She motioned for him to come in.

"I'm sorry," Draco started, "I can't believe it took me this long to piece everything together and once I did, Natalie told me to meet you in person."

Hermione still didn't care much for Draco, but she had a feeling that in different circumstances, she and Natalie would be good friends.

"It's about your parents." Draco watched Hermione's eyes widen, and Severus move to prevent him for speaking any further. Draco closed his eyes and held his hands up, as if to stop both of them from whatever they were about to do next.

"I promise after everything, I would not lie. Your parents are here. Err, well theywillbe here."

"Draco-," Severus' voice was more than a warning, it was a threat.

"When you told me where you were staying at dinner, that call I took, it was to change your room-,"

"Which, was absolutely unnecessary and beautiful, thank you." Hermione interjected.

"Of course." Draco was exasperated at this point trying to get out what he needed to say.

"My receptionist made a comment about your booked room now being open in the block of rooms reserved for a conference this weekend. I didn't think much about it until I accessed the booking system this morning. It's the Greater New York Dental Meeting. Your parents are registered, and they're staying here. Their check-in is scheduled for tomorrow."

The three of them stood in silence- two of them stunned, the third contented.

Hermione stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as the realization settled over her. She had found them—her parents, safe and alive—and it was Draco Malfoy, of all people, who had made it possible. The overwhelming rush of relief tangled with confusion, gratitude, and a lingering unease.How was she supposed to reconcile the boy who had sneered at her for years with the man who had just handed her back her family?Her heart felt heavy and light all at once, torn between wanting to trust the sincerity of his actions and fearing what it might mean if she did.

She glanced at him, his face guarded but oddly devoid of its usual arrogance, and for the first time, she saw not an adversary but a flawed, complicated soul who had chosen to help her. The realization of the sincerity of the previous night consumed her. The weight of her emotions pressed against her, and for a moment, all she could do was whisper, "Thank you," her voice thick with everything she couldn't yet put into words.

A second realization slowly dawned on her, unsettling in its quiet certainty: Draco wasn't the person she thought she knew. For years, she had defined him by his sneers, his cruel words, his allegiance to everything she despised. Yet here he was, stripped of his usual bravado, his sharp edges dulled by something unspoken-repentance,perhaps, or a longing to be something more. It was disarming to see him like this, no longer the caricature of a spoiled, unthinking bully but a man trying to step out of the shadows of his past. She felt a flicker of unease at the shift within her, as though the ground beneath her feet had shifted.Could she allow herself to see him differently? Could she reconcile this Draco with the one who had tormented her?The questions churned inside her, relentless and uncertain, yet one truth lingered: the Draco Malfoy she had known was gone, and someone else was emerging in his place.

The weight of Draco's actions settled deeper in her mind; Hermione couldn't shake the truth that had begun to form: he didn't have to help her. He could have easily kept this revelation to himself. But he hadn't. He had chosen, of his own volition, to bridge the vast chasm between them and provide something that no one else had. Other than Bill, no one else had known where to find her parents, no one else had offered her the lifeline she so desperately needed. Draco had given her that—and he hadn't done it for any reward, not for recognition or for any sense of duty. He had simply... helped her. It was as though, in that one moment, he had chosen to be a person of integrity, a person who, despite all his past, could do the right thing when it mattered most.

Severus watched the realization play out as Hermione stood wordlessly. "Draco. We are much obliged. Thank you. Perhaps you might be able to advise when the Grangers are here, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Of course." Draco nodding furiously. "I'll be here much of the day if you need anything. I-I'll leave you to it." He started to make his way to the door.

"Wait," Hermione stopped him, "You can't leave. We are going to need you if we are to have any chance of interacting with them." She looked at Severus' stoic face.

"We have potions. Ibelievewe were successful in brewing the right one, but these things can be tricky. Other than with the Cruciatis, Obliviates aren't normally reversible."

"Between the two of you, if there's a way to do it, you'll find it." Hermione didn'tneedconfidence from Draco Malfoy, but she would be lying to everyone if she didn't admit that hearing him say that felt like redemption for all those years she endured his torments. Severusdefinitelydidn't need any affirmation from Draco, but he knew what those words would boost her morale.

"Do we have any ideas?" Hermione looked at the two men.

Draco responded first. "I do. Why don't you get ready and meet me upstairs at noon." He handed them a key card and left the room.

Hermione looked at the clock on the microwave:8:17 A.M.

She took Severus' hand in hers. "How about a shower?" Her eyes glistened mischievously.

Knowing an argument would be futile, Severus sighed in defeat and allowed the witch to lead him to the bathroom.

Severus watched Hermione cautiously, his agitation barely concealed beneath his composed exterior. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her socks on, wondering audibly what Draco's plan would be to reverse her parents' memory charm. It was unsettling to Severus how quickly she had come to trust him, to believe in his intentions, and the swiftness of her faith set Severus on edge. He had seen too much of Draco's past to simply dismiss it—too many lies, too many betrayals carefully masked behind pale features and cool words. The boy was clever, yes, but also deeply flawed, his choices often driven by fear and survival. He wanted to tell her to reconsider, or at least to be cautious, but he knew the resolve in her voice would leave no room for doubt. Still, the thought of Draco failing—or worse, hurting her with his failure—gnawed at him. She had already suffered too much for the sake of her parents, and Severus could not bear the idea of her being let down again. For now, he remained silent, though his eyes betrayed the storm brewing within him.

You mustn't let on that you don't trust him.Severus' opinion of who Draco was now was irrelevant, but he knew that if Hermione sensed distrust she might completely decompensate.You need to have a plan in place if he fails.

Severus' main contention with Draco's assistance was wholly selfish.Hewanted to be the one to find and assist with reversing the curse. Severus scowled at the mere thought of Hermione givinganyother man praise or gratitude, let alone a man closer to her in age.Stop acting like a child,Severus.She choseyou.

"Severus? Severus." Hermione's voice brought him back to the present.

All he could muster in response was a sordid, "hmm?"

"I asked what you thought we should do before meeting Draco. Are you alright?"

Lie.

"Of course."

Hermione looked at him unconvinced.

Lie better.

"My apologies. I, too, was lost in thought formulating a plan for us." He joined her on the bed.

"We have the potions, and we have two hours. Maybe we could walk around?"

Severus was surprised that Hermione wanted to do anything other than sit in the room and go over plans or discuss what plans Draco might suggest, however, he was not opposed to leaving the situation behind for a few hours. He watched Hemione slip into an emerald-green pea coat and felt his heart lurch. Severus knew that he was overly protective over the girl,who wouldn't be?,but had to remind himself often just how strong she was. Just howclevershe was. She spent the better part of a year looking after everyone else, and even now, she put most people before herself. Severus silently vowed to shield her from the emotional torment she would undoubtedly subject herself to if she discovered her trust in Draco to be misplaced.

Severus and Hermione stepped into the brisk, dry air. It must much colder than they were used to, but it felt nice to be out. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she did anything that didn't involve studying, potion making, or reading. And ifshehardly ever got out, she couldn't imagine when the last time Severus did anything that didn't involve work. She willed herself to steal a quick glance up at him. His face was reserved, yet calm. She knew that since the end of the war they had little fear now, but she also knew he would never stop feeling the constant need for surveillance.

As they walked, Hermione took in everything. The people, the sounds, the sites. It was New Year's Day, but one would hardly notice in the city that never sleeps. Storefronts were open and busy. She made a silent note to herself that Ginny would love to visit and shop here. They had walked about a half a block when Hermione noticed a window display featuring stunning jewels:Harry Winston.

She half paused to stare into the window, but her thoughts stopped her.What on earth do you need jewelry for?

Ever observant, Severus noticed. "Should we go in? See how sloppily Muggles fashion a stone?"

Hermione knew that Severus did not care one iota about stores, shopping, or jewelry, but he would do absolutely anything to make sure that Hermione was content. Hermione was a solid mix of cold and curious. She pulled the large brass handles and felt the heat slam against her face. The interior radiated luxury and warmth, a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. The air was subtly fragrant with notes of something sophisticated—perhaps sandalwood and a light floral scent.

The lighting was carefully designed, with sparkling crystal chandeliers and soft, recessed lights that highlighted the brilliance of the jewelry on display. Polished marble floors gleamed underfoot; their cool elegance balanced by plush area rugs that soften the atmosphere. The walls were paneled in rich tones—creamy whites, taupe, and soft greys—with accents of polished gold.

Showcases lined the room, their glass surfaces flawlessly cleaned, revealing an array of dazzling diamonds and gemstones. Hermione started at the nearest display.Rubies.Each piece was presented as if it was the centerpiece of an art exhibit.

A staff member, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, slid gracefully through the space, offering a warm welcome to the pair.

"Good morning! Happy New Year." The salesman greeted cheerfully. He faced the duo in front of the display. An action that Hermione noted to be more of a friendly gesture, than if he had welcomed them from behind the counter, which would have established more of a customer relationship only.

"Good morning. Same to you." Hermione's smile was small. "We're honestly here just to browse." It was a subtle hint to this man not to expect a sale.

He smiled, understanding. "Miss we are going to be so slow today with the holiday. Please don't let get bored! I'll take out anything you want to see! Can I get you two something to drink? Espresso? Champagne?"

"I would love an espresso, please."

The salesman looked up at Severus, who responded similarly.

"I'll be right back."

Hermione recognized quickly that each display highlighted a different stone. Rubies, emeralds, tanzanite. And even though she would never describe herself as a stereotypical 'girlie girl,' the display of diamonds stunned her. Of course, she recognized that they were engagement rings, but she couldn't help but admire their every facet of beauty. The salesman returned with two small cups. He maneuvered gracefully behind the display case.

"Ahh, yes. The best case here, in my opinion."

Hermione willed herself not to feel awkward, but she decided that it had nothing to do with Severus and more to do with the feeling being natural to any couple staring at rings when that moment was so far off from reality. Without hesitation, the salesman opened the case and took out a stunning marquise ring.

He started to educate on the four C's: cut, color, clarity, and carat. As he talked about the various characteristics, he continued to pull ring after ring out of the case, encouraging her gently to try them all on. For a good ten minutes she had forgotten that Severus was even there, until he asked to see a ring in upper lefthand corner of the case. It was the second thing he had said the entire time.

"Oh, Ilovethis one. It's a hard sell. Too many people have said that, while pretty, it appears too 'Christmasy'". He rolled his eyes playfully with his air quotes. "Four carat center, emerald cut. Platinum band, with an additional one carat total weight of alternating rubies and emeralds around the band." He handed it to Hermione.

It was stunning, and even more captivating on her finger. It was unlike any she had seen. She turned to Severus, who stood silently at her side, his dark eyes watching her intently. A rare softness crossed his expression as he nodded, understanding without words that this ring wasn't just a choice—it could be a promise of unity, an emblem of their shared journey and the blending of two distinct, extraordinary souls into one.

Though the topic of marriage had never been spoken aloud between them, it lingered in the moment, in the quiet understanding that passed between their glances. It was too soon to speak the words, too soon to define the future with certainty, yet both Hermione and Severus felt the inevitability of it. Their bond had grown in a way that defied logic and surpassed expectation, a foundation built on trust, respect, and a shared resilience that neither had ever thought to find in another. The look in his eyes confirmed an unspoken agreement between them—they didn't need to rush. But when the time came, when the world felt aligned, they both knew they would stand together, ready to make that promise.

The salesman gave a low whistle. "I have to say, this is my favorite on you. The emerald cut suits your finger. Do you love Christmas?"

Hermione smiled, "I mean, well, yes- I do. But these colors mean something else entirely to me. Our class colors." She looked up at Severus. She knew she couldn't explain to a Muggle about Hogwarts Houses, but she understood Americans represented their collegiate colors with stubborn pride.

She looked at the ring again. The vibrant red and green stones seemed to pulse with a life of their own, their union symbolizing more than just their respective houses. It was a testament to opposites complementing one another, a merging of fire and earth, intellect and passion.

"I don't think I would have ever been able to imagine this design. I am so glad that we stopped in." She carefully slid the ring off her finger and handed it back to the salesman. Her eyes lingered on it as he put it back in the case. Severus noticed. Hermione looked up at the salesman, "Thank you."

"Oh! What time is it? We must meet Draco." She was slightly embarrassed that something so frivolous distracted her from the reason why they were in New York.

"We have some time," Severus' voice was contemplative, distracted.

Not wanting to be late, she extended a generous thank you to the kind salesman. "It was so nice to meet you." He extended a hand to Hermione and then to Severus.

Hermione, preoccupied with bundling herself back up to step out into the frigid air, failed to notice the salesman slip Severus a business card with a nod.

As they stepped out of the store and back into the crisp air, Severus couldn't help but steal glances at Hermione, searching for some small sign of what she might be feeling. Her gloved hand was tucked into the crook of his arm, and though she walked with her usual confident stride, there was a softness to her expression that made his heart catch.Was it the way her lips curled into a faint smile, or the distant gleam in her eyes, as though she were replaying the moment she'd spent gazing at the rings?He found himself hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in her gaze, hoping for something—a word, a glance—that might betray her thoughts.Did she want this as much as he did?The idea of proposing felt premature, yet he couldn't stop himself from longing to know if she, too, had seen something in those rings that made the future feel more tangible, more possible.

It's much too soon.Severus wrestled with the thought, his mind circling the same conclusion over and over. They hadn't discussed it, hadn't even touched on the idea of a future bound by anything more than the fragile understanding they shared now. And yet, the thought of proposing to Hermione had rooted itself so deeply in him that it was impossible to ignore. It wasn't simply a matter of affection, it was the undeniable sense that she had brought something into his life he never thought he deserved- peace, understanding, and a love that didn't demand he change who he was. Rationally, he knew it would be reckless to bring it up now, to burden her with a question so heavy before they'd truly explored what they had, especially with her parents' upcoming arrival. But selfishly, he couldn't stop himself from imagining it, from craving the certainty that she would be his, not just in the quiet intimacy they shared now, but in every way that mattered.

"I'm not really a jewelry person, but there were some stunning pieces in there." Hermione gave Severus the perfect window of opportunity to evaluate her feelings on the subject. "Well, wait. I absolutely adore the ring you gave me. I just mean that I've never really found myself so taken in a jewelry store. Howperfectwas that last one? The mix of Slytherin and Gryffindor- it was as if we were meant to see it."

Severus noted her pace quickened with the excitement in her voice.

"Hermione," his voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of hesitancy. "Have you ever... considered what marriage might look like for us?"

The question hung between them, fragile and exposed, like the bare branches the lined the city sidewalks. Hermione slowed her steps, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked up at him. There was no shock in her expression, no discomfort, only the thoughtful consideration he had come to admire so deeply.

"I have," she admitted softly, her cheeks-tinged pink, whether from the cold or the vulnerability of the moment. "Not in a planning sort of way, but... the idea has crossed my mind." Her eyes searched his face, gauging his reaction. "Have you?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a touch of hope.

Severus held her gaze, his heart pounding as he nodded. "More than I probably should have," he confessed quietly, the weight of his honesty grounding the moment between them.

Hermione's lips curved into a soft smile, though her eyes remained fixed on his, searching for the layers of meaning behind his words. "Why 'more than you should have'?" she asked gently, her tone neither accusing nor pressing but filled with genuine curiosity.

Severus exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air as he looked down at the path before them. "Because it's hardly something I expected to consider in this lifetime," he admitted, his voice tinged with a self-deprecating edge. "And because...I worry it's too soon for you. For us."

Hermione reached out, her gloved hand brushing against his arm until he stopped walking and turned to her fully. "Too soon for what, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head. "To acknowledge how much we mean to each other? To consider a future together?" Her words were steady, but there was a tenderness in her expression that made his throat tighten.

"It's not a matter of meaning," Severus replied, his voice lower now, almost husky. "You mean more to me than I know how to articulate. It's the practicality of it. The fear of pushing you into something you're not ready for."

She stepped closer, her hand now resting lightly on his arm. "Severus, do you really think I'd let myself be pushed into anything?" she asked, her tone soft but with a teasing glimmer. "I've spent enough time by your side to know when something feels right. And this- us, feels like something worth thinking about, doesn't it?"

As Hermione's words settled between them, her steady reassurance warming the cold winter air, Severus found himself drawn into the quiet recesses of his mind. Her certainty, her unwavering belief in him, was a balm he scarcely felt he deserved.Could she truly understand what she was saying? What she was committing herself to by even entertaining the idea of a future with me?

He stole a glance at her—her eyes bright, her expression open and full of hope. She was so young, so full of promise. Her brilliance and compassion had carved out a path for her that could lead anywhere. And yet, she stood here, beside him, speaking of a future that, in his darker moments, he questioned whether he had any right to share with her.

What could she gain from binding herself to a man like me?A man with a past so deeply marred by mistakes and shadows that it still clung to him, even in moments of light. He thought of the life he had lived, the sacrifices he had made—not out of nobility, but out of guilt and necessity. His hands were hardly clean. Could he offer her anything more than a lifetime of complications, of whispers behind her back and judgments from those who would never understand?

And yet, here she was, her words soft but resolute, anchoring him in a way he couldn't deny. She wasn't a woman who made decisions lightly, and if she could see something in him worth believing in, perhaps it wasn't his place to question it. But the doubt lingered like an old wound, raw and aching. Could he truly make her happy? Was he selfish to even want to try?

Severus inhaled deeply, his gaze dropping to the snow-dusted path beneath their feet. She deserved better—he was certain of that. And yet, the thought of stepping back, of walking away from her warmth, was a weight he wasn't sure he could bear. He felt her hand gently squeeze his arm again, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced up to find her watching him, her expression patient but searching, as though she could see the conflict playing out behind his carefully guarded exterior.

"Severus," she said quietly, her voice pulling him back to the present, "whatever you're thinking... it doesn't change the fact that I'm here. That I'vechosento be here with you." Her words were a reminder, a promise. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt the faint stirrings of something he had long thought lost: hope.

Hermione's gaze softened, her hand remaining on his arm as if grounding him to the moment. "Severus," she said gently, "I can see there's something holding you back. I understand if you're not ready to talk about it, but... I'd like to know. What are the reasons? What's keeping you from believing in this—us?"

He exhaled slowly, his breath forming a pale mist in the cold air as he struggled to untangle the thoughts crowding his mind. For a moment, he considered deflecting, brushing off her question with some evasive remark. But the sincerity in her eyes—so filled with patience and care—demanded honesty he rarely gave, even to himself.

"It's not that I don't believe in us," he began, his voice low and deliberate, as though testing the words as he spoke them. "It's that I question whether I'm the man you should tie yourself to. Whether I have the right to ask for something so...permanent, knowing the life I've lived and the burdens I carry."

Hermione tilted her head slightly. "You think your past disqualifies you?" she asked softly, her tone free of judgment. "Severus, I know your past. I know what you've done—and I also know why you did it. You've spent years carrying the weight of those choices. Isn't it time you allowed yourself to be more than that?"

His jaw tightened, his gaze dropping again. "It's not just the past," he admitted after a pause. "It's the way others will see you—see us. You could face scorn, ridicule, whispers questioning why someone like you would marry someone like me. I've lived my life in shadows and isolation. I'm accustomed to it. But you... you deserve the light, Hermione. You deserve better than what I can offer."

She was quiet for a moment, her hand slipping from his arm only to take his hand in hers. "You don't think you're enough," she said, her voice steady but laced with quiet emotion. "But you are. You always have been, Severus. You see burdens and scars, but I see strength and loyalty. You think others' opinions matter to me?" She shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips. "After everything we've both faced, the world's opinions are the least of my concerns."

Her grip on his hand tightened. "The only question that matters is this: Doyouwant this? Doyouwant to share a future with me, despite the doubts and complications? Because if you do, we'll face all of it together. That's what matters to me."

She leaned into him as much as she could, to feel the weight and warmth of his body radiate against hers. "Besides," her tone was matter of fact, "everyone who matters already knows. If you live your life at the approval of others, you will never know peace."

Hermione's words resonated with him. She was right. He only cared what people would think about their relationship because he wanted to shield her from the pain and grief the gossip would cause.

Severus hesitated, her words hanging in the air like a challenge to every doubt he'd nurtured over the years. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the frost-laced trees lining the path, as if the winter scene might offer clarity. "Hermione, you say the world's opinions don't matter to you," he began, his voice measured and low, "but you know the world can be cruel. Especially to those who choose paths they don't understand."

Hermione's hand firmly gripped his, "I'm not afraid of what people think, Severus. I've never been one to live my life based on others' expectations."

"I know that," he said softly, almost wistfully. "But it's one thing to face their opinions alone. It's another to have them question your choice—publicly, constantly. You're revered, Hermione. A war heroine, an intellectual force, a shining example of what's good and right in our world. And then there's me—the man they all hoped would disappear into obscurity, at best." He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You know they'll say you're settling. That you've made some mistake. They'll think I've manipulated you somehow, or that you're trying to save me as another act of Gryffindor heroism."

Hermione stepped closer, her expression resolute. "Do you honestly think I care what small-minded people say? Severus, if anyone tries to diminish what we have, that says more about them than it ever will about us. I've faced worse than whispers and judgment before. Do you think I can't handle this?"

"It's not about handling it," he replied, his voice sharper now, though the frustration was directed inward rather than at her. "It's about what you'll lose because of me. Opportunities, friendships, the respect you've earned. Even if you don't care what they think, their opinions might still close doors for you. And I—" He faltered, his voice softening. "I couldn't bear to be the reason you lose anything."

Hermione's eyes softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek, drawing his gaze back to hers. "Severus," she said gently, "the only thing I would lose is a chance at happiness if I let their opinions dictate my life. I know what I want, and it's you. If people don't understand that it's not my concern. What matters is that we know it's right." She dropped her hand, her voice steady as she continued. "The question isn't about them. It's about you. Do you believe you deserve this? Because I do."

He stared at her, her words cutting through the icy wall of his doubts like sunlight breaking through clouds. For a moment, he couldn't speak, the weight of her conviction leaving him unmoored. "I don't know if I'll ever believe that," he admitted finally, his voice raw. "But if you do, perhaps that's enough for me to try."

"Severus," she began, her tone both tender and pragmatic, "no one ever really knows when the right time is. We tell ourselves there's some perfect moment—when everything is settled, when all the doubts have faded, when the world seems aligned, when we've been together for two years. But life doesn't work like that, does it?"

He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing in quiet thought. "No, it doesn't," he admitted. "Yet that uncertainty only makes the decision more precarious. Without knowing, how can one be certain it isn't a mistake?"

"Because the certainty doesn't come from the timing," Hermione replied, her voice soft but resolute. "It comes from what we feel, from the trust we've built, from knowing that we can face the uncertainty together. The 'right time' isn't some magical moment where everything is perfect. It's when we decide we're ready to take the step, knowing it won't be easy, but believing it's worth it."

Severus's lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considered her words. "You make it sound so simple," he said, his tone more contemplative than critical. "But simplicity has never been my way."

Hermione gave a quiet laugh, a sound that softened the tension between them. "No, it hasn't," she agreed, "but maybe it's time to let go of overthinking for once. The truth is, we'll never know if this is the perfect time. We'll never have all the answers. But what I do know is that I care for you, Severus. Deeply. And I believe in what we have. That feels like the right foundation to me."

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable, though his dark eyes held a flicker of something softer. "You're far too wise for your years," he muttered, though there was no sting in his words—only a grudging admiration.

Hermione squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe," she said lightly, "but sometimes it takes a bit of wisdom to see that overthinking can rob us of the good things waiting right in front of us." Her voice softened, her gaze steady. "What's in front of us right now, Severus, is something real. Maybe that's the only sign we need."

For a long moment, he simply studied her, the quiet conviction in her words echoing in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, she was right. Perhaps the 'right time' wasn't something he could predict or control. It was something he had to choose, here and now, in the warmth of her unwavering belief in him.

Hermione chuckled to herself. "Of course," she said with mock seriousness, "I should warn you—I'm not going to wait around forever, Severus. If you take too long, I might have to reconsider all those marriage proposals from Viktor Krum."

Severus's brows lifted, and for a moment, he simply stared at her, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. "Krum," he said flatly, his tone laced with dry skepticism. "How fortunate for him that he still holds a torch for you after all these years."

Hermione laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. "Oh, I don't think he's still pining," she admitted, "but I'm sure if I wrote him an owl saying I was reconsidering, he'd clear his calendar."

Severus let out a soft scoff, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if betraying the faintest hint of amusement. "Then it's a good thing I've always been quick on my feet," he said, his voice laced with sardonic wit. "I'd hate to see you throw your lot in with a Quidditch player of all people."

Hermione grinned, "You'd better keep up, then," she said lightly, though the warmth in her gaze softened her teasing. "I'd hate to have to explain to Viktor that he never really stood a chance."

Severus shook his head, a reluctant smirk ghosting across his lips. "Merlin, help me," he murmured, "you're impossible."

"And yet," she replied, her voice dipping with a touch of tenderness, "here you are, still with me."

The conversation had ended just as they were approaching the hotel.

"I'm nervous, Severus." Hermione's voice was calm.

Severus turned to face her, holding both of her hands. "Hermione, I want you to know that no one will ever take the place of your parents, but if things do not go as we hope, you will always have me. You willneverbe alone." He would never admit it to the witch, but he was nervous too. He willed himself not to let it show because he had to be strong for her, even if it meant putting up a front.

It was a quiet ride to their room, but Severus couldn't tell if the energy between them was tension from what was to come or excitement from the conversation they just shared. Hermione asked for a few moments to compose herself. Severus took the time to focus on the task at hand: reversing her parents' Obliviate. While he was almostcertainthat their potion would work, he didn't know whether the reversal- if possible, would be immediate. In fact, he wouldn't knowanythinguntil he saw how they reacted to the potion.

After a few minutes, Hermione emerged from the bedroom. Despite her best effort at concealment, her redden eyes and puffy face revealed to Severus that she had been crying.

Despite his immediate instinct to question her, he did nothing so as not to upset her further. He met her at the bedroom door and took her hand.

"Come, love. Draco's waiting."

Draco's office was to be expected: grandiose, spacious, and dark. It was a stark contrast to the light and golden hotel décor. The walls were painted a deep emerald green and the floor was laid with stunning hardwood. Portraits of known, and unknown, wizarding figures and quidditch scenes covered the walls.

One portrait caught the attention of Hermione. It was Draco's wedding day. He was standing proudly in a deep green suit, glaringly opposite his blonde hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around Natalie, stunning in what looked like an intricate lace and beading fitted gown with a train that surpassed the edges of the large frame.

Draco had never been particularly friendly- to friendorfoe- but love and happiness radiated from every inch of him.I would love to hear aboutthatlove story,Hermione thought to herself. In that moment, there was something about the unusual pair that made her even more steadfast in her decision to be with Severus. All things equal, Draco marrying a Muggle was probably themorescandalous story than her relationship with Severus.

Draco was typing furiously on a Muggle computer behind his large desk. He glanced up and greeted them with a nod.

"You really embraced the Muggle ways, Draco." Hermione half teased. Of the three standing there, she had the most experience with a Muggle upbringing, and despite her contentions while living at home, she was well acquainted with usual technologies. If anyone were to ask why she never utilized them, it was a simple answer: she didn't need to. Most of what a Muggle could do, a witch or wizard could do faster and more efficiently than with the aid of any Muggle device.

Draco snorted, "I hate this thing. It's just for show. I'm the only non-Muggle who works here. I had enough questions when I hung the portraits. I didn't need any more suspicions." He closed the top of the laptop he was working on and led them to a large table situated in a corner closest to the entrance.

He motioned for them to sit.

"The plan is easy. You need a potion served, and I own a hotel and run the staff. Today will be normal convention happenings, speakers, presentations, et cetera. Tomorrow is a big presentation dinner. You," he looked square at Hermione, "and Severus will be 'vendors' for a new line of dissolving toothbrushes that are being pushed by the environmentalists." He rolled his eyes and handed them brochures. "The actual vendors cannot make the dinner anymore," his eyes sparkled sarcastically, "so you will take their seats at dinner. Look at the brochures. Most of the time attendees don't talk about their wares at the dinner, but I'd rather you prepared and more convincing."

Hermione looked down at the brochure.The Better Bristle. She pictured her parents exploding from laughter over such a thing.

Draco continued, "Your table is the one next to your parents' table. I wasn't sure if you would be emotionally prepared to sit with them and pretend not to know them, plus if the potion's effects are not immediate, casual glances at you might aid in the reversal."

Hermione didn't recall Draco as a particularly good student, but she knew he wasn't unintelligent. He cared less about book studies and more about practical use. His plan reflected his aptitude for practical planning and use over memorization of facts and figures. His words alone strengthened Hermione's confidence in the plan. He appeared to have figured out every avenue of the operation.

"You parents will be the only two guests at their table with a 'dietary restriction'. Can we put the potions in their food or will they need to be hidden in a cocktail?"

Hermione looked at Severus. This question was outside her current knowledge, especially because they were unsure how effective it would be.

"Whatever it is served in, it must be consumed entirely. Hermione," Severus looked at her, "is there something you could be absolutely sure that your parents would consume completely?"

"If they are served agoodcup of tea, they will ask for more."

"Done," Draco stood. "If you can get me the potions beforehand, I will personally make sure they are added."

"Draco," Hermione was confused, "is it odd that the man who owns this hotel is working at events? We certainly don't want any of this to draw any unintentional attention to you."

Hermione was certainly grateful for his help, but she didn't want to put him at risk of revealing his identity.

Draco laughed, "Things may be different for me now, but one thing did not change. I love money, and mother and I had almost none left once we reestablished our lives here."

He snapped his fingers and immediately transformed in front of their eyes. Gone was the pale skin and blonde hair. Instead, his skin was tanned, and his hair was shoulder length and brown.

"Muggles are just as bad as wizards," he started, "I found out early on enough that if you don't watch the people working for you, they will steal. So, I started working…undercover…to find and fire staff members trying to cheat me."

Hearing this, Hermione felt a wave of relief. There was something about Draco transforming into a kind, caring, prefect man that didn't sit well with her. It was an odd thing to admit, but she wasgladthat he still held onto some of his Slytherin tendencies.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus, amused, drawled, "and here I thought you had gone soft."

Another snap, and he was back to his blonde self. "I really took to Transfiguration during my remaining time at Ilvermorny. Not exactly a shock that Dark Arts wasn't exactly my calling." He looked at Severus knowingly. He walked back to the desk and picked up a folded piece of parchment. He handed it to Hermione.

"This probably breaks a bunch of Muggle rules, but well- I'm not a Muggle." He smirked.

Hermione unfolded the parchment. It was blank. She looked at him, puzzled.

"Reveliowill show your parents' current contact information- address, dental practice name. If the potion doesn't work, I- I didn't know whether you would want to know where they were, or if that would be too difficult. So, it will be your choice, but so long as they live there, you will always know where they are."

She nodded appreciatively, unable to voice the true thanks that she felt, and unwilling to think about the potion's failure.

"The dinner is semi-formal, so if you need anything-let me know. I'll have housekeeping drop off your tickets and nametags to your room."

"Draco, are they here?" Hermione's voice was small. He nodded.

Hermione's heart raced, her breath hitching at the realization that her parents were so close. A storm of emotions surged within her: hope, fear, and a bittersweet ache that she had kept buried since the war. She had dreamed of this moment for a long time, yet now that it was within reach, doubts whispered in her mind.Would they ever remember her fully?Would they forgive her for the memories she had altered, for the life she had hidden from them to keep them safe?But above all else, an undeniable yearning surged within her—to see their faces, hear their voices, and know, without question, that they were alive and safe.

She carefully refolded the piece of parchment and tucked it safely into the pocket of her jeans.

"Do you have any questions?"

Hermione looked up to see Severus and Draco staring at her curiously. "I think you covered everything, Draco. Thank you so much for your help with this."

"Unfortunately, all we can do now is wait." Draco shrugged.

Hermione turned to Severus. "We should let Draco get back to work. I think we've taken up enough of his time."

"Hermione, why don't you meet me back at the room. There is something I must discuss with Mr. Malfoy."

Normally, Hermione would have been curious, but she had too much on her mind to care about whatever Slytherin reunion they needed to share outside of her presence. Hermione stood from the table and placed a hand on Severus' shoulder. "I'll see you later."

She shuddered as she exited the room, but she couldn't tell if it was from nervousness, the cold, or the feeling of eyes watching her leave.

Draco sat back down at the table, opposite Severus. It was the first time they'd spoken alone since the war, and the years had carved subtle changes into Draco's features. He was no longer the pale, sneering boy of Hogwarts, nor the frightened young man torn between family loyalty and his conscience. Now, there was a steadiness in his gray eyes, a quiet resolve that Severus hadn't seen before.

"How are you really doing, Draco?" Severus asked, his voice low but pointed, cutting through the casual pretense they'd been maintaining for Hermione.

Draco hesitated before answering. "Better than I thought I'd be," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Leaving England was...necessary. Mother's thriving here, and honestly, so am I. It's easier to breathe without the weight of our name looming over every decision." He paused, glancing up at Severus. "I'm not the person I was, and I don't want to be. I've spent these months learning how to live differently. How to live with myself." There was no defensiveness in his tone, only honesty, and Severus found himself nodding, a flicker of approval passing through him. It seemed the boy he had once protected at great cost had truly found his way into the light.

"I'll never forget what you did for me—getting me into Ilvermorny. They could have turned me away, and I wouldn't have blamed them. But you spoke for me. Gave me a chance to start over. I owe much of what my life is now to you."

Severus inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes steady. "I merely pointed out your potential," he said, his voice free of its usual sharpness. "The rest was yours to prove."

Draco's smile widened, faint but genuine. "Still, I'm grateful. I've learned more in the past few years than I ever did at Hogwarts—not just about magic, but about myself. I'm not the person I was. For the first time, I'm learning how to live differently. How to live with myself."

Severus studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a small nod. "It seems you've done well with that chance," he said quietly, a flicker of approval crossing his face.

Draco leaned back in his chair. "You know," he began, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, "if someone had told me a decade ago that I'd end up working in real estate, I would have laughed in their face. Or hexed them, more likely."

Severus arched an eyebrow, his expression faintly skeptical. "Real estate? I thought this was all some elaborate ruse for Ms. Granger's sake." he echoed. "I would have expected you to pursue something more...magical."

Draco smirked, a glint of self-awareness in his eyes. "So did I, at first. Ilvermorny was a fresh start, and I threw myself into it—divination, potions, even wand lore. I thought I needed to prove something, to show the world I wasn't just a spoiled Death Eater's son. But by the time I graduated, I realized... I didn't want magic to define my life anymore. It felt like I was still chained to my past."

Severus leaned back slightly, his dark eyes narrowing in thought. "And real estate is the great escape, then?" he asked, his voice edged with curiosity rather than judgment.

Draco chuckled, the sound light but genuine. "Hardly. But it's something tangible, something I can control. I started small—helping Muggles and wizards alike find homes here in the city. There's something satisfying about it. A sense of building, of creating something stable. And... I'm good at it. Who knew all those years of navigating the complexities of pure-blood society would make me decent at negotiating contracts?"

Severus's lips curved into the faintest of smirks. "I suppose the Malfoy charm had to be put to some use."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "Charm isn't exactly what I'd call it, but yes. It's a far cry from what Father imagined for me, but it's honest work. And it's mine. No dark marks, no whispers of my family's sins—just a clean slate."

Severus studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod of approval. "You've done what many would find impossible," he said quietly. "You've found a way to redefine yourself. That is no small feat, Draco."

Draco's expression softened, gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Coming from you, that means more than you know. It's not the life I thought I'd have, but... it's a good one. And that's enough for me."

Severus tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on Draco with renewed curiosity. "You mentioned graduating already," he said, his tone deliberate. "An impressive feat, considering the distractions and challenges you faced after the war. How exactly did you manage it? Or should I say—how were you permitted to manage it?"

Draco exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a wry smile. "Permitted is the key word, isn't it?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Let's just say Headmaster Pope wasn't eager to have a Malfoy lingering in her halls for longer than absolutely necessary. Pope decided it was better for everyone if I finished quickly and left quietly."

Severus's brow furrowed slightly. "He forced you to accelerate?"

"In a manner of speaking," Draco replied with a dry chuckle. "He called it an 'opportunity' for me to apply myself and demonstrate that I wasn't a liability to the school's reputation. It was clear, though, that he wanted me out before anyone could really question why I was even allowed to enroll." He paused, his expression shifting to something more somber. "I can't blame him, really. I was a constant reminder of the war—and everything people wanted to forget."

Severus regarded him thoughtfully. "And yet you succeeded."

"I did," Draco said, his voice tinged with both pride and exhaustion. "He gave me an accelerated curriculum—extra coursework, advanced projects, everything short of private tutoring. It was brutal, but it kept me out of the public eye and out of trouble. And it worked. I mean it's not like I missed much at Hogwarts. I only had two N.E.W.T.S to finish." Draco sighed, his gaze distant for a moment. "It forced me to move forward, to start fresh somewhere far away from my family's shadow. I may not have left on the best terms, but at least I left with my head held high."

Severus allowed a rare flicker of approval to cross his face. "Sometimes, progress is found not in the comforts of familiarity, but in the necessity of survival. It seems you've made the most of it."

Draco smirked faintly, his expression lightening. "I suppose I have. And for what it's worth, I don't think I'd have gotten through it if I hadn't known you believed in me—even back then."

"I believed in the possibility of redemption. You've done well not to waste it, Draco." Severus' gaze softened, though his voice remained measured. "You've rebuilt your life here, evidently. Yet... surprising," he said, his voice laced with curiosity. "A Muggle wife, Draco?"

Draco's lips quirked into a faint smile, though there was a flicker of apprehension in his gray eyes. "Ah, yes," he said, drawing out the words. "I'm sure most think that the real scandal in the Malfoy family wasn't the war or Father's politics, but me marrying Natalie."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And how, pray tell, did that come about? I imagine it was not the life trajectory your family envisioned for you."

Draco gave a dry chuckle. "No, it wasn't. But after everything, I wasn't interested in following a script someone else wrote for me—least of all Father's. Natalie was… unexpected. I met her when I was trying to buy a property. She was the listing agent, and—well—she wasn't impressed with me at first."

Severus' lips twitched, though he remained silent, letting Draco continue.

"I was still a bit... sharp around the edges," Draco admitted, his tone self-deprecating. "But Natalie? She didn't care about my name or my past. She didn't care about wizarding politics or bloodlines. She just saw me for who I was in that moment—a man trying to start over. She challenged me, called me out when I was being insufferable, and didn't let me get away with any of my old rubbish. It was... refreshing. And, eventually, irresistible."

Severus tilted his head slightly. "And she knows?"

Draco nodded, his expression softening. "About magic? Yes. I told her not long after we started seeing each other seriously. I wasn't about to build something on lies, not again. She took it surprisingly well—though she did make me prove it. Levitating her coffee table was sufficient."

Severus's brow furrowed slightly. "And your mother? I imagine she had her... reservations."

Draco gave a rueful smile. "At first, yes. Mother's always been a bit of a traditionalist, but she's changed too. After the war, I think she realized how much the old ways had cost us. When she met Natalie, she couldn't deny that I was happy. That mattered more to her than anything else. Besides," he added with a faint smirk, "Natalie charmed her in record time. Mother always did have a soft spot for strong-willed women."

Severus studied Draco for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You've managed to surprise me, Draco," he said finally, his voice quieter but no less deliberate. "Not just in the choices you've made, but in the conviction with which you've pursued them."

Draco inclined his head, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "It hasn't been easy," he admitted, "but I've learned that the things worth having rarely are." Then, with a faint smirk, he added, "And if nothing else, it's given me the satisfaction of knowing Father would have been utterly scandalized. That alone makes it worthwhile."

For the first time in the conversation, Severus let out a low chuckle. "It seems you've truly found your way, Draco. For what it's worth, I imagine your Father's dismay would have been well-earned."

"So, Severus," he began lightly, "how are things with Hermione? I imagine being with someone as sharp as her keeps you on your toes."

Severus glanced at him, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, though there was no true irritation in his expression. "I fail to see how my relationship warrants your curiosity, Draco," he replied evenly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

Draco chuckled, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Don't hex me; I'm only asking out of polite interest. I'm genuinely pleased for you both. Seeing the two of you together… it makes sense in a way I didn't expect."

Severus exhaled slowly, his gaze softening just enough to suggest he wasn't entirely dismissive of the conversation. "Hermione is remarkable," he admitted, his voice quieter. "She challenges me in ways I did not think I needed, or wanted, but I find myself... better for it."

"That's quite the compliment coming from you. And honestly, it's refreshing to see you let someone in. For what it's worth, I think you've both earned a bit of happiness."

Severus arched a brow, his lips twitching faintly. "You've become quite the sentimentalist, Draco. Perhaps this Muggle wife of yours is having an undue influence."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe. But I mean it. After everything, seeing people I care about—yes, that includes you—find something meaningful, it's- grounding. Besides, Hermione's not the type to settle for less than the best, and frankly, neither are you."

Severus regarded him for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before finally nodding. "She is important to me," he said quietly, as though admitting it aloud gave it even greater weight. "Though I imagine you already surmised as much."

Draco smirked, "Oh, I more than surmised, Severus. Have you given any thought to making it official? I mean, Hermione strikes me as the type who values clarity in her commitments."

Severus stiffened almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes narrowing. "Marriage," he said, his voice cool and deliberate, "is hardly a subject I take lightly, Draco."

Draco raised a brow, leaning forward with evident interest. "Nor should you. But after everything you both have endured, surely the thought has crossed your mind?"

Severus exhaled slowly, his expression guarded. "It has," he admitted, though his tone suggested the words had been carefully measured. "However, such a step is not one to be rushed. There are...considerations."

Draco tilted his head, his smile softening. "What considerations, exactly? I doubt Hermione's the type to care about wealth or status. And as far as your history goes—well, if anyone understands the complexity of your past, it's her."

Severus's gaze flickered, "It is precisely because she understands that I hesitate. Hermione deserves stability, certainty. My life, as you well know, has been anything but."

Draco nodded slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. "I get that. But, Severus, if there's one thing I've learned from Natalie, it's that love isn't about waiting for everything to be perfect. It's about choosing each other, flaws and all, and figuring out the rest as you go."

Severus arched a brow, his voice tinged with dry humor. "Spoken like a man who once believed perfection was his birthright."

Draco smirked, unbothered by the jab. "Exactly. And look where that got me—married to a Muggle and happier than I ever thought I'd be. My point is, if you're waiting for some magical sign that everything is 'right,' you'll be waiting forever. Hermione already knows who you are, Severus. And she's still here."

Severus remained silent for a long moment; his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point beyond Draco's shoulder. Finally, he inclined his head slightly, a flicker of something almost vulnerable crossing his features. "You may have a point," he said quietly. "But that does not make the decision any less daunting."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is. But for what it's worth, I think you'd be mad not to take the leap. If anyone can handle you, it's Hermione Granger."

Severus's lips twitched faintly, though his expression remained somber. "An endorsement from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps the world truly has turned on its head."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You know I'm right, Severus. Just don't overthink it. Life's too short for that."

"You may be insufferable, Draco, but there is... merit in what you've said." Severus' tone was measured, almost reluctant, and his gaze shifted downward for a moment. "There's something I should mention, though I ask that it remain between us."

Draco's brows lifted in intrigue, his smirk softening into genuine curiosity. "Of course," he said, leaning forward slightly. "What's on your mind?"

Severus hesitated, the weight of his thoughts evident in his furrowed brow. "When Hermione and I were out earlier today, we stopped at a jewelry store. Purely by coincidence, or so I told myself at the time." His lips curved into a faint, self-deprecating smirk. "While we were there, I saw a ring. A piece that caught my attention for reasons I didn't entirely understand at first."

Draco's gray eyes gleamed with interest. "A ring?" he echoed, his voice carefully neutral. "Go on."

Severus continued, his voice quieter now. "It was simple, yet elegant. Rubies and emeralds set together—our house colors, Gryffindor and Slytherin. It felt...symbolic. A merging of opposites, if you will. I couldn't stop thinking about it after we left."

Draco's smirk returned, though there was a warmth behind it. "Let me guess—you're considering buying it, just to have it for when the time feels right?"

Severus gave a faint nod, his expression uncharacteristically contemplative. "Precisely. Though the very idea feels presumptuous, as if assuming too much."

Draco laughed softly, shaking his head. "Presumptuous? Severus, you're overthinking this—again. If you're even entertaining the idea of proposing one day, it's not presumptuous to be prepared. It's smart."

Severus' voice was laced with dry skepticism. "I wasn't aware you'd become an expert on such matters."

Draco shrugged, his grin widening. "Marriage does that to a man. But seriously, Severus—if the ring spoke to you, if it felt right, then get it. Hermione isn't the type to rush you or pressure you. And having it tucked away doesn't mean you have to use it tomorrow. It just means you're ready for when the moment comes."

Severus studied Draco for a long moment, the faintest flicker of something close to gratitude in his dark eyes. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "you're not entirely useless after all."

Draco laughed. "High praise indeed. Go get the ring, Severus. You'll thank me later."

That Saturday felt interminable, as if the clock had conspired against Hermione to stretch each second into an eternity. She hated that she had absolutely nothing in the hotel that could occupy her restless mind. Every tick of the clock was a reminder of the monumental task ahead: reversing the Obliviate she had cast on her parents. A torrent of emotions churned within her—hope, guilt, anxiety—all colliding with the weight of her longing to restore the bond they had once shared. Severus, ever observant, remained nearby, offering quiet reassurances in his own understated way, but even his presence couldn't dispel the oppressive weight of anticipation. For Hermione, the day dragged on as though testing her resolve, the promise of the dinner looming like a beacon she couldn't yet reach.

As the endless hours crawled by, Hermione couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something about Severus was different. He wasn't acting overtly unusual—his sharp wit and quiet reassurances were as steady as ever—but there was a subtle tension in his posture, a faraway look in his eyes when he thought she wasn't watching. It wasn't like him to be so distracted, especially when she needed his focus and support. She caught him staring at her more than once, his expression unreadable, almost searching.

"Are you alright?" she asked at one point, interrupting his reverie.

"Of course," he replied smoothly, though the slight delay in his response gave her pause.

Hermione frowned, narrowing her eyes as she studied him. He wasn't lying, exactly, but something was off. Had she missed something? Was he worried about her parents, or had something else entirely claimed his thoughts? She tried to push the question aside, reminding herself that today wasn't the time to press. But the mystery lingered in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder what it was that Severus wasn't telling her.

The cab ride to dinner in the heart of New York felt like a whirlwind; the vibrant city lights blurring past the windows as neither Severus nor Hermione spoke much. The air between them was charged, but not with their usual easy rhythm of companionship. For Severus, his mind swirling with thoughts of the ring and what it symbolized, kept stealing glances at Hermione, wondering if she could sense the weight of his unspoken considerations. Meanwhile, Hermione stared out at the bustling streets, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she mentally rehearsed what she might say to her parents. Their conversation was stilted, each of them preoccupied with their own monumental thoughts, and the normally delightful anticipation of dinner was overshadowed by the feeling that they were merely going through the motions. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, both felt as though the evening was rushing past them, slipping through their grasp like grains of sand, leaving them disconnected and unsettled.

Dinner passed in a haze of half-hearted conversation, each trying to engage the other while their respective preoccupations loomed large in the silence between words. Severus commented on the wine, Hermione nodded distractedly. Hermione mentioned the charm of the restaurant's decor, Severus grunted in agreement, though his mind was far from the polished wood and candlelit tables. By the time they stepped out into the crisp New York air and hailed a cab back to their hotel, both were relieved that the evening was over, though neither said as much.

When they arrived at the hotel, Hermione immediately began her nightly routine, brushing her teeth and pulling on an oversized jumper, her movements hurried and purposeful. Severus watched her from his seat by the window, still lost in his thoughts. The sight of her—so small and determined, yet clearly burdened—pulled at something deep within him, but he said nothing.

At precisely 8:00 p.m., Hermione pulled back the covers and slid into bed, her hair still slightly damp from a quick shower. "I know it's early," she said, offering a faint smileJanuary

Severus' stoicism was his greatest strength. A quiet fortitude that radiated through even the toughest of times. While others around him might have succumbed to despair or frustration, he faced challenges with an unflinching gaze, embodying resilience and a dark grace. His ability to accept sufferings without complaint or emotion served as a steady anchor for those who looked to him for guidance. In a world that often felt chaotic and unpredictable, his calm demeanor and thoughtful silence spoke volumes. It was as if he had mastered the art of stillness, reminding those around him that composure in the storm could lead to the most profound moments of clarity and connection.

His face was devoid of emotion as he spun around effortlessly to face the youngest Malfoy. He positioned himself such that Hermione was protected behind his left side. Severus ached to retort, "Professor Snape, Mr. Malfoy,"but that was no longer accurate.

The demise of the Malfoys was inevitable after the Dark Lord's downfall. Lucius earned his spot in Azkaban, but Narcissa was shown leniency. In the aftermath, it was Harry who vouched for her. After all, shedidsave him. Harry played more of a role in sentencing than he would have liked, but the Ministry trusted his knowledge of Death Eater involvement. He was hesitant to participate, but eventually supplied crucial details, ensuring the remaining followers faced the consequences of their actions.

Severus always knew that Narcissa acquiesced to her husband's every demand, even when her heart whispered in defiance. Trapped in a web of fear.Yes, he watched over Draco as a promise, but also out of a sense of protectiveness. Lucius was as rotten as they come, and Narcissa was too self-absorbed in appearances to realize that she was slowing losing her son. Severus quickly recognized Draco's caustic demeanor was less of a personality flaw, and due more in part to neglect. Draco did not return to Hogwarts after the War, and Severus only assumed the reasons why. He hadn't the faintest cluewhyDraco would be in New York.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus' tone was curt. He was suspicious.Are we being followed?His eyes scanned the surrounding area. Hermione stood quietly behind him.

Draco moved in stride to close the gap between them. Severus held his ground, but instinct dictated his protectiveness over Hermione.

"This is a sight to see-," Draco started.

"Choose your next words carefully, Mr. Malfoy," Severus snarled. Severus anticipated snark from the boy about the relationship standing in front of him.

For a split second, disappointment crossed Draco's face, and Severus noticed.

Something unusual happened next. Draco stuttered. "I- I'm sorry Professor. It's been quite some time since I have seen a familiar face." He dropped his head slightly. "Nice to see you, too, Granger."

Severus felt Hermione tense and the sound of her name. She barely managed to get out a "hello," before Severus added, "Mr. Malfoy, quite a surprise, unfortunately, we are otherwise engaged. Severus started to turn and usher Hermione away, "Wait!" Draco begged. Severus stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Hermione stared at Draco with a vacant expression.

"I'm sorry," Draco started painfully, "I don't know what else to say. Even if I did, I know it wouldn't be good enough. I'm sorry for my father. I'm sorry for my mother. I'm sorry forme. I can't say that I acted only because of my parents, but my fucked-up family didn't raise me to know anything else, and neither did anyone they kept around me." Draco's face was distressed.

Severusalmostfelt bad for Draco. But not quite. He stared at Draco with a mix of indifference and disapproval, feeling little sympathy for the young man. Draco represented the very privilege and entitlement that had shaped hisownpainful past; the Malfoy name was steeped in arrogance and a legacy of prejudice.

Severus saw in Draco a boy who had been raised in a world of dark expectations, yet Severus believed that the choices one made were ultimately what defined a person. Rather than pitying Draco for the burdens of his family, Severus felt a stern resolve that Draco needed to face the consequences of his upbringing, just as Severus faced his own demons. In his eyes, vulnerability was a weakness that Draco had to overcome, not an excuse to elicit sympathy. And ifSeverusfelt no sympathy, he was certain that Hermione feltless thannone.

"Do you know how much pain you caused?" Hermione's voice was a strained whisper. In shock at her words, Severus broke his stern resolve just for a moment to glance at her.

She pushed herself through Severus' protective hold, so she was staring directly at Draco. "Do you know what I had to give up? Why I'm in America when I should be home celebrating with my friends?" Her whisper started to turn into a shriek, and although Severus stood by ready to intervene, if necessary, he was not quite quick enough to stop Hermione from pointing her wand at the center of Draco's forehead before shouting, "Do you know what I lost?" Severus could hear Draco swallow loudly.

A moment passed that could have been forever. Hermione lowered her wand. Her face was full of disgust.

"No," Draco whispered, "I don't. But I think I do now." He raised his eyes to Hermione. "I have nothing. I lost everyone. And I don't say that for sympathy, I know I don't deserve any." His head dropped. Severus took note that this was likely the only time Draco had ever lowered his head to a Muggle-born witch.

He continued, "You have no idea how it feels right now. How it feels to see someone that Iknew. Loneliness kills something inside of you so slowly, that you go mad craving familiarity so much that you would give anything to go back to shit just to feel something familiar."

Hermione said nothing. Severus took his cues from Hermione. As much as hewascurious about Draco's life after the War, he would never subject her to anything that would hurt her. Ever observant, Draco acknowledged the silence.

"Right. I am sorry. It was nice to see you both. Happy New Year."

Draco raised his hand in a limp wave and started to walk away from the pair.

"Have a drink with us?" A soft feminine voice croaked. Hermione could feel the confused obsidian eyes pouring over her face in disbelief. She took Severus' hand and squeezed it gently.

"Are you sure?" Severus whispered to her.Of course not,Hermione thought to herself.

"It'll be fine," she whispered back.

The blonde-haired man looked graciously toward Hermione. "Really? I just-," Draco started.

"Don't," Hermione insisted, "let's go talk somewhere."

Half forgetting that she'd never been to New York City before, and had no idea where they could even go, Hermione also had no idea what to expect. She started to panic.What is wrong with you?! Why would you want to sit with him? Why do you care what the hell he's been doing?!Hermione tried to pretend that she wasn't the least bit curious as to why Draco was in America, but being curious was always her great downfall. She breathed a sigh of relief when Draco indicated that he had the perfect place.

The trio walked down Fifth Avenue in silence for what seemed like an eternity until they reached a small, yet elegant, restaurant. The black façade was adorned with the most exquisite lanterns fit for a castle and,definitely, emblazoned by magic. Just above the entrance was a simple cursive "S," illuminated by soft white and emerald lights. He opened the door and motioned for Hermione and Severus to go ahead of him.

Hermione could feel Severus checking for magic. She gave him a forced, but reassuring smile. The magic wasn't lost on Draco either. He chuckled.

"I wish I could be offended that you don't trust me, but I don't think that will ever happen in my lifetime." His eyes met Severus', who gave a tight smirk.

The door shut silently after Draco.

The place was immaculate. If Hermione knew anything about New York City, it was from watching fictional Muggle television shows where everything seemed so rich and glamorous. The entire restaurant from the bar to the floors was the deepest cherry wood she had ever seen. So deep it was almostblack. Stunning chandeliers appeared to float just below the ceiling. The décor was simple: emerald walls were etched with silver fleurs-de-lis. Hermione smirked at the nod to his House.

"Hey there, boss!" A young, attractive woman with waist-length raven hair winked at Draco. She smiled at Hermione.

"Natalie," Draco nodded back, "we'll take window table upstairs. Would you bring us menus and wine, please?" The young woman smiled in agreement.

Hermione about fell to the floor hearing Draco speak so kindly to this woman, who she sensed, was a Muggle.

He led them up a black iron winding staircase to the second floor. "This is my place,S." As if he read their minds, he continued, "I know. It's bizarre.Me, in food service? With Muggles nonetheless." Hermione smirked internally for catching that about Natalie. "Crazy times."

He led them to the furthest table from the stairs, placed directly in front of a large glass window directly onto the cityscape. It was beautiful. Severus helped Hermione out of her coat, and the pair sat across from Draco.

Right on cue, Natalie appeared with menus, a bottle, and three wine glasses. She was stunning. And definitely someone Draco would have pursued at Hogwarts, aside from the fact that she wasnothinglike someone Draco would have pursued at Hogwarts.

"Welcome in!" She smiled, "Wow, it's so nice to see Mr. Mallory with friends!"

Hermione and Severus exchanged confused looks that did not escape Draco.

"Thanks, Nat.See, I told you I had friends." He laughed awkwardly. Natalie started to pour the wine. "I guess seeing is believing," she smirked. "I'll give you three a moment and I'll be back to take your order." Natalie finished pouring and left the trio.

"Mallory?" Severus scoffed. "HasMalfoylost its appeal?" Hermione kicked him under the table. She hated Draco, but she wouldn't stoop to his level.

"Nah. That's fair. I deserve any and all snide and rude commentary you have." He gestured to the menus, "The foodisgreat though, so have at it."

Hermione would never have admittedanythingto Draco, but she was admittedly starving. Plane food washorrid. She glanced over the menu:Italian. "This looks good," she responded softly. Hermione's eyes lingered over the words for much longer than necessary because she had no idea what to say to her former classmate.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Severus probed. Hermione relaxed. She could always count on him to get right to the point. She began to nurse her glass of wine, much to Severus' chagrin.

"The Ministry destroyed my house. I almost wish Potter had sent my mother to Azkaban because at least she would have had a place to live. If it wasn't for her draining our Gringott's accounts just before the War, we would have been fucked." Draco glanced at Severus. "Well, and I'm sure you heard about my piece of shit father." Severus gestured slightly with his head. Hermione, on the other hand, had no idea.

"No…?" She started. Draco held up a finger. Hermione sensed someone was coming over.

"Are you ready?" Natalie was back. Smiling again.

"The pasta, please," Hermione smiled back.

"Steak. Rare, please." Severus didnotsmile back.

Natalie turned to Draco, "The usual?" He nodded at her. Natalie collected the menus, topped off the wine, and left.

"The very last thing my father tried to do was kill me," Draco spoke bluntly to Hermione. "Well actually," he continued, "he tried to get me confined to Azkaban with him. Told anyone who would listen thatIkilled Dumbledore, thatImade sure Death Eaters got into Hogwarts, and thatIhad been conspiring with Voldemort to overthrow the Ministry." Severus snorted at that last statement.

"Yeah, I know," Draco laughed. "I'm lucky I could make it through Charms class, but apparently,I'mgoing to overthrow a government. Little did he know that Potter had already told them everything, about all of us, mother included." He looked at Hermione, "Wasn't a great look trying to throw your son under the bus."

"Anyway, they took his wand during the investigation for obvious reasons. The day he was sentenced, my mother begged me to go with her. I had no interest in ever seeing him again, but I think mother was beside herself with grief, so I went. I still have no idea how he managed to get it in but just as the Minister was reading off his charges, he pulled out a Muggle gun. Got me right here," he tugged at his dress shirt to show a scar that looked to be a mere inch from his heart.

"I was lucky. I know I didn't deserve it when so many others weren't."

"And your house?" Both Severus and Draco were startled at Hermione's question, but Draco took it as a reassuring step forward and continued.

"The Ministry claimed it was all copacetic. That they were just looking for evidence. But I didn't realize you could collect evidence with fire." The sadness was starting to creep into his words. Hermione felt bad for asking. "I think that was the moment that I realized I didn't have any reason to stay. My life burned away with all my worldly possessions. I told mother that I was leaving, and she could come with me or not, but I wasn't staying there." He shrugged, "I think she wanted so much for people to just forget everything. You know, 'It wasn'tus, it wasfather.' But we all know that wasn't the case."

At that moment, Natalie appeared with the food. Hermione was relieved to see something that she could finally soak up the wine with. Natalie set down plates in front of Hermione and Severus, and a teacup with saucer in front of Draco. She placed her hand softly on his shoulder.

"I'll be downstairs if you need anything." With a final smile, she disappeared.

Hermione immediately started to eat. It was every bit as good as Draco promised.

Draco took a sip out of the teacup. "We really had nothing to pack, so we left that night. Came to New York first to stay with a cousin in Manhattan, then to Massachusetts. Thanks to you." He nodded at Severus, who chose this exact moment to find his steak the most interesting thing in the world. Hermione looked between the two of them, "I have no idea what that means…?" Severus' head stayed low.

"My mother was desperate for me to finish school. Professor here saw to it that Ilvermorny took me in, and I finished my last year there." Hermione swallowed that statement with a gulp of wine.

"On the weekends I would travel to New York. It's a long boring story, but I got into real estate and never looked back. I was coming back from looking at a new property when I saw you two tonight." He set the teacup down.

"Draco," Hermione started, "whereisyour mother?"

"She's upstairs," he laughed. "We live above this place. I truly couldn't bear to leave her alone. She's-," he paused, "she's different now."

"We all are." Hermione added.

"I am probably crossing all sorts of lines, but you have to know that I wonder what on earth the two of you are doing here?"

Hermione had no idea what to say. Nothing they were doing was his business, but the last hour, if anything, only showed that this was not the same boy she went to school with. She felt Severus' eyes on her.

"Before the War started, I Obliviated my parents, but now I have no idea where they are. I'm trying to find them and hopefully reverse it." She was fighting hard to hold back tears. "And Severus, well, he is- I mean, we are-," Hermione looked to Severus for help.

"I am hers for as long as she allows me to be," Severus finished bluntly.

Draco understood. "I s'pose that makes a lot of sense." He smiled kindly, yet mischievously. Hermione breathed a sigh relief when he moved on.

"Where are you staying?" Draco inquired. Hermione put her hand over her eyes, "The St. Regis," she responded shyly. "It's so ridiculous, but Severus insisted we stay in New York the 'right way'". Severus rolled his eyes at her air quotes.

Draco chuckled at the response. "That's a great place. Everyone should experience it at least once in this lifetime." He tapped his Muggle watch with his finger and the clock illuminated to life-2:14AM. "I'll be right back." He pulled a Muggle cell phone out of his pocket and showed it to them, "Duty calls." Draco rose from the chair and walked to the back of the seating area, disappearing into what Hermione thought was a staff room.

As soon as she believed him to be out of earshot, she shot a look at Severus, "This is weird, right?" She reached for her fourth glass of wine, not quite sure how it managed to never empty. Severus lifted an eyebrow. "Are we forgetting what happened last time you went out for 'just a glass' of wine?" Hermione laughed, and put a finger to her lips, "shhh".

Severus rolled his eyes. "I apologize for not being forthcoming about my previous interactions with Draco and his mother. At the time, truly, I never anticipated ever seeing him again."

Hermione smiled. "It's okay. Honestly, I'm glad you helped him." As if reading his thoughts from earlier, she continued. "Truthfully, I never really thought heactuallywanted to act the way he did. I don't think he really had a choice."

"No. He did not." Severus confirmed. "And while she wasn't entirely innocent, his mother did not either." He turned away from Hermione for a moment.

"What neither of you know is that Narcissa contacted me not long after Lucius' trial, begging me to take Draco in. She had no idea what she was going to do. I thought that unwise, so I reached out to a colleague at Ilvermorny. Luckily, they agreed to the late enrollment, but I highly doubt it was a popular choice amongst the other students."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Why didn't you take him in?," she questioned. Severus laughed curtly.

"I already had no intentions of being alive. I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of using my second chance to play 'father'."

Hermione looked away quickly and reached for her glass. She suddenly felt awkward. They had never discussed children. It was much too soon, but was it that obviously something Severus didn't want?Do I want that?Hermione's thoughts started to race.

Of course, Severus noticed. "I didn't want to be Draco'skeeper, Hermione. Don't read into that."

Too late because now she was reading intothatstatement. Luckily, Draco arrived back just in time to eliminate any additional awkwardness.

"Sorry 'bout that. I'm trying to acquire a new property. Checking in on New Year's Eve attendance." He sat down, looking serious.

"I don't think you realize just how much you being here means to me. I'm not asking for friendship, just the knowledge that if our paths ever cross again, we can embrace the company of each other. If you need anything while you are here, please let me know." He slid a business card across the table:

D. Mallory

Licensed Real Estate Agent

(212) 753-4500

Hermione looked it. "Mallory?"

Draco laughed. "Did you honestly think people would forget the name Malfoy?" He continued, "I was proud when I got to Ilvermorny. I thought I would just own the name. Prove I was more than that. That I wasn't my father. It was torture. Looking back, I see the irony as to how I acted at Hogwarts. I changed it once I got out." He shrugged.

"Thank you," Hermione started, "honestly, I'm not sure what I really expected but I'm glad you're okay." She hesitated. "If you're ever back home, let us know."

Now, Hermionewasdrunk, and itwasdark, but she would have bet her last Galleon that Draco's eyes filled with tears.

"I think it's time we take our leave," Severus voiced quietly, not wanting to ruin moment that his former House student had likely been waiting for some time. Two of them rose effortlessly, and one stumbled up. Severus grabbed Hermione's arm gently and helped her down the stairs. A smiling Natalie was drying glasses behind the bar.

"It was so nice meeting you!" Hermione hadn't realized how strong her New York accent was. "I hope you'll visit us again soon."

Severus stepped outside first. Hermione lingered at the doorframe and turned to Draco.

"I hope you know that woman likes you alot," she implored.

Draco laughed. "Well, I would hope so. That's my wife."

Hermione stared incredulously at Draco.

It was astonishing, really, how much people had the capacity to change. Draco Malfoy, of all people—someone who sneered at the very idea of mingling with Muggleborns, let alone Muggles—marrying one? Hermione would have laughed at the notion back at Hogwarts. Draco was so deeply entrenched in his family's ideology, so unwavering in his belief in pure-blood superiority. But war changes people, doesn't it? Maybe it stripped away the illusions he clung to, or maybe he finally saw the futility in dividing people by blood.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a strange sense of respect for him now. To make a choice like that, to reject the values he was raised with—it must have taken immense courage. Andlove.Perhaps there's more to Draco than I ever gave him credit for.

Hermione reached her hand out, which Draco accepted. "Perhaps next time," Hermione started, "you can introduce us to your wife." A small smile escaped her lips.

Draco looked at Severus, "Sir." Severus responded with a short, "Malfoy," and the two of them walked slowly, arm and arm, down Fifth Avenue.

The walk fromSto the St. Regis felt like an eternity to Hermione. She was not used to just how longonecity block was in New York City. Severus kept pleading with her to apparate, but Hermione wanted to take in everything: the lights, the sounds, the smells.

If someone had told Hermione a year ago that she'd be wandering the streets of New York City with Severus Snape, of all people—hand in hand, no less—she would have thought them utterly mad. And yet, there they were.

The city was overwhelming in every sense of the word. The chaos of the city even at 3 a.m. felt like stepping into another world, the lights dazzling and disorienting all at once. Hermione clung to Severus' arm, not because she needed him to guide her, but because his presence steadied her.

He pretended to scoff at the spectacle, muttering something about "gratuitous Muggle ostentation," but there was a softness in his expression that betrayed him. His dark eyes, so often shadowed by anger or sorrow, flickered with something akin to curiosity.

As they walked in silence, Hermione's thoughts drifted from Draco to her parents—and the uncertainty that continued to gnaw at her since Severus introduced her to Bill.Will I even find them here? And if I do, will they want to return to the life I took from them to keep them safe?

Severus held her hand tightly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of her hand. As if reading her thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Hermione didn't want to ruin the evening, but she relied on Severus for comfort and reassurance probably more than she would like to admit.

"What if I can't find them?"

"Whether or not you find them, Hermione, you've already reclaimed something far more important: yourself."

The revelation hit her. It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was the one she needed.

The meaning settled over her like a slow sunrise. For so long, she defined herself by the role she played in the war—the girl who fought, who sacrificed, who bore the weight of responsibility. She buried her own desires beneath duty and guilt, even after the war ended. Searching for her parents was the last thread tying her to that past. But being here, with Severus, felt different. He would never ask her to be the perfect Gryffindor or the clever witch who always had the answers. He saw her as she was now—messy, uncertain, and sometimes a little lost.

She looked at him, bathed in the warm glow of a nearby streetlamp, and realized something else. This man—who has endured so much and loved so deeply, even when it brought him nothing but pain—had become her anchor in a way she never thought possible. They walked back to the hotel in silence, but it wasn't the uncomfortable kind. It was a silence filled with understanding, with shared breaths and stolen glances. Hermione reveled in the sounds around her. It was nothing like the quiet life she thought she wanted, but it was perfect in its own way.

When they reached the entrance to the hotel, Severus squeezed her hand as he often did when he sensed she needed comfort, and Hermione felt something she hadn't in a long time: peace.

He pulled her close and whispered, "The search changes the seeker." As comforting as Severus intended those words to be, Hermione felt nothing but a shiver of anticipation. For tomorrow. For him. Forthem. She brushed her lips softly against his.

"Let's go." She smiled coyly.

Severus opened their hotel room door and rolled his eyes. He tried hard to not make a scene in the lobby, but check-in wasinfuriating.How Malfoy does this on a daily basis I will never understand.

He knew exactly what room he booked: deluxe queen room, northward facing. He wanted Hermione to be able to see Central Park. Theidiotin the lobby had assured him that he had booked something else. Something "better". After several minutes, Hermione pleaded with him to just let the cowering man take them to their room.

The three of them stepped into a spacious elevator. The silence and the scene in the lobby all but had the bellhop stuck to the opposite side of the elevator from Severus and Hemione, hiding behind the luggage trolly. Severus couldn't help but smirk at the scene.

They rode in silence to the highest floor. When the elevator doors opened, the bellhop flung himself out of the elevator, nearly tripping over the trolly. He fumbled nervously with the key card but eventually opened the door to what appeared to be a lavish penthouse. Severus watched Hermione step through slowly in awe. He thanked the bellhop and handed him an undisclosed amount of cash. Hermione snorted.

"If you-you need anything, anything atall, please just call downstairs. Ask for me, Joseph. I will be here." With a bow, he departed the room at warped speed.

"You know youcouldbe a little nicer to people. This room is amazing. Why all the fuss?" Hermione was running her fingers over the smooth granite countertops in the kitchenette.

"There's no fussnow," Severus rolled his eyes, "because this roomisnicer than the one I reserved. I wonder what happened."

Hermione could feel the air around her change as Severus muttered basic wards around the room. She walked over to a large wooden dining room table. A large bouquet of roses was in a glass vase in the center. She spotted a card just below and picked it up. On the front was an emerald-green cursiveS.She turned it over:

Whatever you need, we will make sure you get.

Oh, I own this place, too.

P.S. If you are in need of 'supplies' for your endeavor, I can assist.

Hermione smiled. She walked to Severus, waving the card at him.Draco.Severus seriously underestimated the boy. His change was so shocking that if he hadn't experienced it himself, he never would have believed it.

Severus could sense that neither one of them was going to sleep anytime soon. As much as he loathed extended periods of time in a big city, he could sense the buzz of the night life emanating from Hermione. He watched her take in every facet of the room, every inch of the floor to ceiling windows. She made her way across the dining room to a freestanding minibar.

"Ooo, what do we have here." Her eyes glowed devilishly. She ran her fingers over the intricate glass decanters. Severus watched as she slowly decantered a dark liquid and poured the contents into two ice filled glasses. She carried the glasses over to Severus, who took his willingly. Grabbing his free hand, Hermione pulled him with her to the large plush couch in the center of the room. It had started to rain shortly after their arrival to the hotel, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to justbewith Severus. She molded herself into his chest and allowed her head to rest on him. She could feel him relax immediately, and she wished that he knew she felt the same against his touch tenfold.

The rain blurred the glittering cityscape outside, streaks of silver against the warm glow of the hotel room. Her fingers lingered on the rim of her glass, more to steady herself than out of any real need for a drink. They'd been here before—this moment, this charged silence—but it felt heavier now, weighted by the events of that evening and the reality they were about to face tracking down her parents.

"This feels different," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the rain beating against the windows.

He didn't answer right away, his dark eyes fixed on her with that same unrelenting intensity she'd come to recognize as uniquely his. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Does it? Or are you overthinking again?"

She shot him a look, a playful glare that didn't quite mask the quickening of her pulse. "You know I don't overthink. I analyze."

"Semantics," he said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. "Either way, it's predictable."

She rolled her eyes, shifting her body so she was looking up at him. "Predictable?" she repeated. "What's predictable is you sitting there acting as if you're not thinking the exact same thing."

"Am I?" he asked, his hand resting lightly on her cheek as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And it was, after all these months—touching her, pulling her closer, the quiet moments in between kisses when the world outside ceased to matter.

"You are," she said, her voice quieter now, the challenge giving way to something softer, more vulnerable. Her fingers rested lightly on his hand, her eyes searching his for the answer to a question she didn't need to ask aloud.

He pulled her face closer to his, so Hermione was met with a gaze unyielding but warm. "Then perhaps," he murmured, his voice like velvet, "we should stop pretending this is new."

She didn't have a chance to respond before his lips found hers, a kiss as familiar as it was electric. It wasn't hurried—neither of them rushed anymore—but it carried the weight of the storm outside, a force they couldn't ignore even if they tried. Her hands slid up to tangle in his hair, his fingers moving to pull her closer with a quiet possessiveness that made her breath hitch.

When they broke apart, her forehead rested against his, her laughter soft and breathless. "You're impossible," she said, though her tone lacked any real bite.

"And yet," he replied, his lips brushing hers in the faintest ghost of a kiss, "you don't seem to mind."

"I might," she teased, though her smile gave her away as her fingers tightened slightly in his hair. "If you don't stop smirking like that."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin as he pulled her closer, the city lights painting shifting patterns across their silhouettes. "I'll risk it," he said, his tone laced with a rare playfulness. "After all, you've never been able to resist proving me wrong."

As the kiss ended, Hermione's head rested lightly against Severus' chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing calming her in a way she hadn't expected. The scent of her—clean, with a faint hint of cedar—wrapped around her, familiar now but no less intoxicating. She felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath her fingertips, a rhythm that belied the stoic mask he wore so well.

Her thoughts churned in a quiet storm of their own.How had they gotten here?Months ago, the idea of Severus Snape stepping this far into her life—her heart—would have seemed impossible, a fantasy too ludicrous to entertain. But now, being here in this room, in this city, the impossible felt like the only truth that mattered. She had fought so long to find clarity in a world of chaos, yet with him, the lines blurred in a way that somehow felt right.

She tilted her head back to look up at him, searching his face. His eyes, dark and unreadable to so many, held a softness she'd come to recognize as reserved for her alone. It was a startling intimacy, this glimpse behind the walls he'd built so high. She wondered if he felt the same quiet awe she did, the sense of inevitability that lingered between them, as though their paths had always been leading here.

Severus, meanwhile, felt the familiar tug of conflicting emotions that only she could evoke. Years of discipline had taught him to keep his feelings in check, to present the world with a man who could not be shaken. And yet, she unraveled him with a touch, with a glance, in ways that both terrified and exhilarated him.

He'd told himself, time and again, that letting her in was a mistake. That his world—his past—would only drag her down. But Hermione Granger was not one to be deterred by obstacles, and over time, he'd stopped resisting the pull of her presence. She challenged him, teased him, saw parts of him he hadn't known still existed. And as much as he hated to admit it, he craved that.

Looking down at her now, her lips swollen from their kiss and her cheeks flushed, he felt a sharp pang of something dangerously close to hope. It was a foreign emotion; one he wasn't sure he trusted. But in this moment, with her fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt and her eyes searching his, he thought maybe—just maybe—hope wasn't the worst thing to feel.

"You're quiet," she said softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts.

"So are you," he countered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing against his chest in an absentminded gesture. "I was just thinking… it's strange, isn't it? How easy this feels. How right."

He let out a soft huff of air, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "Strange, perhaps. But not wrong."

Her gaze softened at his words, a warmth spreading through her that felt as though it could light up the entire city. She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest once more, and closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the rare stillness of the moment.

He wrapped an arm around her and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. For once, he allowed himself to linger in the comfort of her presence, the storm outside a quiet echo of the one raging within him. And as they stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the city lights, he realized that perhaps he didn't need to fight this anymore. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he could simply let himself feel.

Hermione struggled to open her eyes the next morning. Jet lag, alcohol, and former classmates was not a great mix. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ornate ceiling, listening to Severus breath slowly. The reality of why they were in New York started to overwhelm her. As positive as Severus tried to remain for Hermione's sake, she knew that was the only reason why he did so.

What if she'd already lost them?The question pulsed in her mind, steady and unrelenting. She had spent years telling herself that finding her parents was a matter of time, a puzzle she could piece together with enough effort and skill. But as the months turned into years, reality had begun to creep in. What if the memories she had erased were unrecoverable? What if they had rebuilt their lives, unburdened by the daughter who had vanished from their minds?

She shifted, curling onto her side, her fingers clutching the blanket as if it could anchor her. The possibility that she might never find them, or worse, that they wouldn'twantto be found, was a quiet terror she didn't know how to voice. She had done what she thought was right, but that didn't make the consequences any easier to bear. Would they look at her with recognition if she succeeded? Or would they see only a stranger—a ghost of a life they no longer remembered?

Her chest ached with the weight of it all, a deep, hollow throb that no logic or reassurance could soothe. She closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, to focus on the warmth of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. But even in this quiet moment, the doubts loomed large, crowding her mind. She had always been able to solve the unsolvable, but now she wasn't sure if determination alone would be enough.

Hermione's gaze drifted toward the faint outline of Severus, still asleep beside her. His breathing was deep and even, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw during waking hours. There was a quiet comfort in his presence, a steadiness that grounded her, even now. She studied the sharp lines of his profile, the faint crease between his brows that lingered even in rest, and felt a warmth stir in her chest.Could this—could he—be enough?

It was a question she hadn't dared to confront until now, tangled as it was with guilt and longing. The ache for her parents was constant, a dull throb beneath everything else. They were her foundation, the people who had shaped her and loved her before she even knew the wizarding world existed. The idea of letting go of them, of accepting that they might never return to her life, felt like a betrayal. But wasn't she betraying herself, too, by holding onto a hope that might never materialize?

Severus stirred, his hand brushing hers beneath the blankets, a small, unconscious gesture that sent a flicker of reassurance through her. Life with him wasn't simple—nothing with Severus ever was—but it wasreal. He challenged her, understood her in ways she hadn't expected, and gave her a space to be fully herself. In the moments they shared, she felt something she hadn't realized she was searching for: a sense of belonging, of being seen and wanted not for what she could do, but simply for who she was.

But would that be enough to fill the void left by her parents? Could she build a life with Severus, one that wasn't defined by what she had lost but by what they could create together? The thought scared her as much as it intrigued her. She wasn't sure if she could let go of the search, of the relentless drive to fix what she had broken. And yet, the idea of leaning fully into this—intohim—temptedher in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Her fingers moved to brush his, a light touch she wasn't sure he'd notice in his sleep. Could she allow herself to want this, to want him, without feeling as though she was abandoning the people who had given her everything? Or was it possible to hold both truths—that she could miss her parents desperately and still find happiness in the life she had now?

As Severus shifted, his eyes flickering open briefly to meet hers, she felt the weight of his steady gaze and the quiet promise it held. Perhaps the answer wasn't about choosing one over the other. Perhaps it was about learning to live in the in-between, where loss and love could coexist. And perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't have to figure it all out right now.

Severus reached for her under the blankets and pulled her close. "What could possibly have you so deep in thought this early in the morning?"

Hermione rolled over to face him. Now that he knew the mental wards she constantly had up, it was useless to lie. "My parents." There was little affect in her tone, and the lack of emotion startled her.

"We willfindthem," Severus implored. He reached out to gently touch her cheek. "I won't lie to you, it may not be easy, but we will do all we can and stay here as long as it takes."

Hermione snorted at that. "Severus, I appreciate your support and optimism, but we cannot possibly stay here more than a few weeks. I can't possibly miss that much time off studying, and you will need to return to your duties before more people suspect something else is going on."

Severus furrowed his brow. As much as he wanted to believe that they could spend as much time as necessary to find her parents, he knew that was not feasible.

"I know."

He watched cautiously as Hermione rolled slowly out of bed and stretched lazily in front of the curtained windows. She drew them so the smallest amount of sunlight spilled into the room.

Still staring out the window, she questioned the dark-haired man now sitting up at the edge of the bed.

"So, what is the plan?"

Severus walked to join her at the window. "Truthfully, my plan was to start with the obvious. But I think we should sit down at talk before we initiate the plan." Hermione looked up at him, confused.

"Talk about what?"

"Hermione, I know you understand the different levels of an Obliviate." Hermione turned away from him. Other that the bare minimum, she and Severus had never actually discussed the memory charm at length. She didn't want to.

"Maybe we should get ready first." She started to walk away from Severus, but he grabbed her hand.

"Talking about this isn't easy. I understand that. But wehaveto. It very well could mean the difference between finding them and not finding them." His dark eyes bore into hers.

Hermione understoodwhythey needed to talk about it, but it didn't make the conversation any easier.What if I did it incorrectly? What if he determines it's unreversible?Those were the questions she had tortured herself with since she cast the charm. She thought that by avoiding them altogether, she'd avoid disappointment. She was wrong.

"What if I made a mistake," she whispered. "What if it was too much? It's so painful to think about the permanency of the situation, even know I knew it had the potential to be so."

She walked away from him. "I know everyone would tease me about being the 'brightest witch' of my age, but deep down, Ilovedthat. I love knowing things- everything. Iloveknowing more than people around me. I just assumed that I would solve it, that I would figure it out like I always do. Looking back, that was prideful." Her tone turned bitter.

Bitterness was a strange weight to see on someone so young, and yet it clung to her like a fog, coiling around the sharp edges of her intellect. Severus knew that particular poison too well—how it gnawed at ambition, twisted idealism into cynicism, and left one hollow even in moments of triumph.

Hermione was a brilliant student, perhaps the brightest he'd ever known, but the bitterness he saw simmering beneath her surface was a warning sign he recognized all too keenly. Could she learn to temper it, to transform that sharp, bitter energy into something useful? Or would it consume her, as it had nearly consumed him in his youth? A fleeting pang of concern stirred in his chest. The parallels were undeniable, and they made him uncomfortably aware of how close he himself had come to being lost.

"Hermione, why must you stew in silence, nursing bitterness like a child hoarding sweets? Tell me, where exactly do you think this path leads?" It wasn't often now, but Severus found some situations warranted him to turn back into the role of professor with her.

Hermione frowned. "I don't know... It's not like I want to feel this way. But it's hard not to when it keeps happening."

Severus' voice was low and deliberate, "Bitterness is an insidious thing. It feels justified at first, even righteous. But it corrodes you from within, blinding you to everything except your grievances. Trust me, I know."

Hermione turned to face him. Severus put his hands on her shoulders and continued, "It nearly destroyed me. Do not make the same mistake. You have a sharp mind, and ambition to match. But if you allow bitterness to fester, it will twist those gifts into something unrecognizable—and ultimately useless."

"So what should I do, then? Just... ignore it? Ignore the feeling that I shouldn't have tried to handle that on my own?" Her voice was quiet.

"No. Address it, but not with spite." Severus shook his head. "Let your achievements speak for themselves. Prove your worth not by questioning your actions but acknowledging their merit and purpose."

"I'll try." She sighed.

"Bitterness may be familiar, but it is never your ally." Something in his eyes revealed that this conversation was more for Severus than for Hermione, but she was grateful for the forewarning.

The silence hung between them like a drawn curtain, heavy and full of unspoken questions. It wasn't an empty silence, but one brimming with thoughts unsaid, each of them carefully weighing their next words. The moment felt fragile, a delicate balance on the brink of something important, and neither dared to disturb it without purpose.

Severus' preparedness to change the subject was overpowered by Hermione's newly discovered resolve.

"I understood that Obliviate could be performed in a couple ways. I didn't want to eraseeverything, I just wanted to devoid their memories of me, andmealone. Honestly, that was all I focused on during the incantation. That they did not have a daughter. I thought that would make it easy enough to find them because it wouldn't change much about their lives." Hermione spoke matter-of-factly, making sure she reiterated everything she could remember to Severus.

"That is immensely helpful. If nothing else changed other than the memories of you, we have really only one place we can consider."

Severus watched in silence as the familiar spark ignited in Hermione's eyes, a light he had come to anticipate and quietly cherish. It was like watching the dawn break after a long, dark night—her thoughts catching fire, her expression transforming with the sheer force of her intellect as it came alive.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, and a faint smile ghosted her lips, betraying the thrill of discovery. He knew that look too well, that relentless hunger for answers, but in her, it was something far more captivating. It wasn't just her brilliance—it was the way she moved through the world with such fierce determination, as if no challenge could stand against her. He felt his chest tighten, an ache born of longing, as he realized just how deeply he wished to be part of the light that drove her.

"Dental offices." Her voice pitched higher and before Severus could agree, she wrapped her arms around him so fiercely, it was as if it would be her last time. That thought emboldened Severus, and he returned the gesture with matched enthusiasm.

The embrace was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Wait here," Severus cautioned Hermione protectively. Severus paced quickly to the door and peered into the small viewing lens on the door. Hermione saw his wand relax, as he opened the door to a determined Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, surely a note would have been more appropriate for this time of morning," Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione closed the gap between them quickly. "Draco? What's going on." She motioned for him to come in.

"I'm sorry," Draco started, "I can't believe it took me this long to piece everything together and once I did, Natalie told me to meet you in person."

Hermione still didn't care much for Draco, but she had a feeling that in different circumstances, she and Natalie would be good friends.

"It's about your parents." Draco watched Hermione's eyes widen, and Severus move to prevent him for speaking any further. Draco closed his eyes and held his hands up, as if to stop both of them from whatever they were about to do next.

"I promise after everything, I would not lie. Your parents are here. Err, well theywillbe here."

"Draco-," Severus' voice was more than a warning, it was a threat.

"When you told me where you were staying at dinner, that call I took, it was to change your room-,"

"Which, was absolutely unnecessary and beautiful, thank you." Hermione interjected.

"Of course." Draco was exasperated at this point trying to get out what he needed to say.

"My receptionist made a comment about your booked room now being open in the block of rooms reserved for a conference this weekend. I didn't think much about it until I accessed the booking system this morning. It's the Greater New York Dental Meeting. Your parents are registered, and they're staying here. Their check-in is scheduled for tomorrow."

The three of them stood in silence- two of them stunned, the third contented.

Hermione stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat as the realization settled over her. She had found them—her parents, safe and alive—and it was Draco Malfoy, of all people, who had made it possible. The overwhelming rush of relief tangled with confusion, gratitude, and a lingering unease.How was she supposed to reconcile the boy who had sneered at her for years with the man who had just handed her back her family?Her heart felt heavy and light all at once, torn between wanting to trust the sincerity of his actions and fearing what it might mean if she did.

She glanced at him, his face guarded but oddly devoid of its usual arrogance, and for the first time, she saw not an adversary but a flawed, complicated soul who had chosen to help her. The realization of the sincerity of the previous night consumed her. The weight of her emotions pressed against her, and for a moment, all she could do was whisper, "Thank you," her voice thick with everything she couldn't yet put into words.

A second realization slowly dawned on her, unsettling in its quiet certainty: Draco wasn't the person she thought she knew. For years, she had defined him by his sneers, his cruel words, his allegiance to everything she despised. Yet here he was, stripped of his usual bravado, his sharp edges dulled by something unspoken-repentance,perhaps, or a longing to be something more. It was disarming to see him like this, no longer the caricature of a spoiled, unthinking bully but a man trying to step out of the shadows of his past. She felt a flicker of unease at the shift within her, as though the ground beneath her feet had shifted.Could she allow herself to see him differently? Could she reconcile this Draco with the one who had tormented her?The questions churned inside her, relentless and uncertain, yet one truth lingered: the Draco Malfoy she had known was gone, and someone else was emerging in his place.

The weight of Draco's actions settled deeper in her mind; Hermione couldn't shake the truth that had begun to form: he didn't have to help her. He could have easily kept this revelation to himself. But he hadn't. He had chosen, of his own volition, to bridge the vast chasm between them and provide something that no one else had. Other than Bill, no one else had known where to find her parents, no one else had offered her the lifeline she so desperately needed. Draco had given her that—and he hadn't done it for any reward, not for recognition or for any sense of duty. He had simply... helped her. It was as though, in that one moment, he had chosen to be a person of integrity, a person who, despite all his past, could do the right thing when it mattered most.

Severus watched the realization play out as Hermione stood wordlessly. "Draco. We are much obliged. Thank you. Perhaps you might be able to advise when the Grangers are here, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Of course." Draco nodding furiously. "I'll be here much of the day if you need anything. I-I'll leave you to it." He started to make his way to the door.

"Wait," Hermione stopped him, "You can't leave. We are going to need you if we are to have any chance of interacting with them." She looked at Severus' stoic face.

"We have potions. Ibelievewe were successful in brewing the right one, but these things can be tricky. Other than with the Cruciatis, Obliviates aren't normally reversible."

"Between the two of you, if there's a way to do it, you'll find it." Hermione didn'tneedconfidence from Draco Malfoy, but she would be lying to everyone if she didn't admit that hearing him say that felt like redemption for all those years she endured his torments. Severusdefinitelydidn't need any affirmation from Draco, but he knew what those words would boost her morale.

"Do we have any ideas?" Hermione looked at the two men.

Draco responded first. "I do. Why don't you get ready and meet me upstairs at noon." He handed them a key card and left the room.

Hermione looked at the clock on the microwave:8:17 A.M.

She took Severus' hand in hers. "How about a shower?" Her eyes glistened mischievously.

Knowing an argument would be futile, Severus sighed in defeat and allowed the witch to lead him to the bathroom.

Severus watched Hermione cautiously, his agitation barely concealed beneath his composed exterior. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her socks on, wondering audibly what Draco's plan would be to reverse her parents' memory charm. It was unsettling to Severus how quickly she had come to trust him, to believe in his intentions, and the swiftness of her faith set Severus on edge. He had seen too much of Draco's past to simply dismiss it—too many lies, too many betrayals carefully masked behind pale features and cool words. The boy was clever, yes, but also deeply flawed, his choices often driven by fear and survival. He wanted to tell her to reconsider, or at least to be cautious, but he knew the resolve in her voice would leave no room for doubt. Still, the thought of Draco failing—or worse, hurting her with his failure—gnawed at him. She had already suffered too much for the sake of her parents, and Severus could not bear the idea of her being let down again. For now, he remained silent, though his eyes betrayed the storm brewing within him.

You mustn't let on that you don't trust him.Severus' opinion of who Draco was now was irrelevant, but he knew that if Hermione sensed distrust she might completely decompensate.You need to have a plan in place if he fails.

Severus' main contention with Draco's assistance was wholly selfish.Hewanted to be the one to find and assist with reversing the curse. Severus scowled at the mere thought of Hermione givinganyother man praise or gratitude, let alone a man closer to her in age.Stop acting like a child,Severus.She choseyou.

"Severus? Severus." Hermione's voice brought him back to the present.

All he could muster in response was a sordid, "hmm?"

"I asked what you thought we should do before meeting Draco. Are you alright?"

Lie.

"Of course."

Hermione looked at him unconvinced.

Lie better.

"My apologies. I, too, was lost in thought formulating a plan for us." He joined her on the bed.

"We have the potions, and we have two hours. Maybe we could walk around?"

Severus was surprised that Hermione wanted to do anything other than sit in the room and go over plans or discuss what plans Draco might suggest, however, he was not opposed to leaving the situation behind for a few hours. He watched Hemione slip into an emerald-green pea coat and felt his heart lurch. Severus knew that he was overly protective over the girl,who wouldn't be?,but had to remind himself often just how strong she was. Just howclevershe was. She spent the better part of a year looking after everyone else, and even now, she put most people before herself. Severus silently vowed to shield her from the emotional torment she would undoubtedly subject herself to if she discovered her trust in Draco to be misplaced.

Severus and Hermione stepped into the brisk, dry air. It must much colder than they were used to, but it felt nice to be out. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she did anything that didn't involve studying, potion making, or reading. And ifshehardly ever got out, she couldn't imagine when the last time Severus did anything that didn't involve work. She willed herself to steal a quick glance up at him. His face was reserved, yet calm. She knew that since the end of the war they had little fear now, but she also knew he would never stop feeling the constant need for surveillance.

As they walked, Hermione took in everything. The people, the sounds, the sites. It was New Year's Day, but one would hardly notice in the city that never sleeps. Storefronts were open and busy. She made a silent note to herself that Ginny would love to visit and shop here. They had walked about a half a block when Hermione noticed a window display featuring stunning jewels:Harry Winston.

She half paused to stare into the window, but her thoughts stopped her.What on earth do you need jewelry for?

Ever observant, Severus noticed. "Should we go in? See how sloppily Muggles fashion a stone?"

Hermione knew that Severus did not care one iota about stores, shopping, or jewelry, but he would do absolutely anything to make sure that Hermione was content. Hermione was a solid mix of cold and curious. She pulled the large brass handles and felt the heat slam against her face. The interior radiated luxury and warmth, a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. The air was subtly fragrant with notes of something sophisticated—perhaps sandalwood and a light floral scent.

The lighting was carefully designed, with sparkling crystal chandeliers and soft, recessed lights that highlighted the brilliance of the jewelry on display. Polished marble floors gleamed underfoot; their cool elegance balanced by plush area rugs that soften the atmosphere. The walls were paneled in rich tones—creamy whites, taupe, and soft greys—with accents of polished gold.

Showcases lined the room, their glass surfaces flawlessly cleaned, revealing an array of dazzling diamonds and gemstones. Hermione started at the nearest display.Rubies.Each piece was presented as if it was the centerpiece of an art exhibit.

A staff member, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, slid gracefully through the space, offering a warm welcome to the pair.

"Good morning! Happy New Year." The salesman greeted cheerfully. He faced the duo in front of the display. An action that Hermione noted to be more of a friendly gesture, than if he had welcomed them from behind the counter, which would have established more of a customer relationship only.

"Good morning. Same to you." Hermione's smile was small. "We're honestly here just to browse." It was a subtle hint to this man not to expect a sale.

He smiled, understanding. "Miss we are going to be so slow today with the holiday. Please don't let get bored! I'll take out anything you want to see! Can I get you two something to drink? Espresso? Champagne?"

"I would love an espresso, please."

The salesman looked up at Severus, who responded similarly.

"I'll be right back."

Hermione recognized quickly that each display highlighted a different stone. Rubies, emeralds, tanzanite. And even though she would never describe herself as a stereotypical 'girlie girl,' the display of diamonds stunned her. Of course, she recognized that they were engagement rings, but she couldn't help but admire their every facet of beauty. The salesman returned with two small cups. He maneuvered gracefully behind the display case.

"Ahh, yes. The best case here, in my opinion."

Hermione willed herself not to feel awkward, but she decided that it had nothing to do with Severus and more to do with the feeling being natural to any couple staring at rings when that moment was so far off from reality. Without hesitation, the salesman opened the case and took out a stunning marquise ring.

He started to educate on the four C's: cut, color, clarity, and carat. As he talked about the various characteristics, he continued to pull ring after ring out of the case, encouraging her gently to try them all on. For a good ten minutes she had forgotten that Severus was even there, until he asked to see a ring in upper lefthand corner of the case. It was the second thing he had said the entire time.

"Oh, Ilovethis one. It's a hard sell. Too many people have said that, while pretty, it appears too 'Christmasy'". He rolled his eyes playfully with his air quotes. "Four carat center, emerald cut. Platinum band, with an additional one carat total weight of alternating rubies and emeralds around the band." He handed it to Hermione.

It was stunning, and even more captivating on her finger. It was unlike any she had seen. She turned to Severus, who stood silently at her side, his dark eyes watching her intently. A rare softness crossed his expression as he nodded, understanding without words that this ring wasn't just a choice—it could be a promise of unity, an emblem of their shared journey and the blending of two distinct, extraordinary souls into one.

Though the topic of marriage had never been spoken aloud between them, it lingered in the moment, in the quiet understanding that passed between their glances. It was too soon to speak the words, too soon to define the future with certainty, yet both Hermione and Severus felt the inevitability of it. Their bond had grown in a way that defied logic and surpassed expectation, a foundation built on trust, respect, and a shared resilience that neither had ever thought to find in another. The look in his eyes confirmed an unspoken agreement between them—they didn't need to rush. But when the time came, when the world felt aligned, they both knew they would stand together, ready to make that promise.

The salesman gave a low whistle. "I have to say, this is my favorite on you. The emerald cut suits your finger. Do you love Christmas?"

Hermione smiled, "I mean, well, yes- I do. But these colors mean something else entirely to me. Our class colors." She looked up at Severus. She knew she couldn't explain to a Muggle about Hogwarts Houses, but she understood Americans represented their collegiate colors with stubborn pride.

She looked at the ring again. The vibrant red and green stones seemed to pulse with a life of their own, their union symbolizing more than just their respective houses. It was a testament to opposites complementing one another, a merging of fire and earth, intellect and passion.

"I don't think I would have ever been able to imagine this design. I am so glad that we stopped in." She carefully slid the ring off her finger and handed it back to the salesman. Her eyes lingered on it as he put it back in the case. Severus noticed. Hermione looked up at the salesman, "Thank you."

"Oh! What time is it? We must meet Draco." She was slightly embarrassed that something so frivolous distracted her from the reason why they were in New York.

"We have some time," Severus' voice was contemplative, distracted.

Not wanting to be late, she extended a generous thank you to the kind salesman. "It was so nice to meet you." He extended a hand to Hermione and then to Severus.

Hermione, preoccupied with bundling herself back up to step out into the frigid air, failed to notice the salesman slip Severus a business card with a nod.

As they stepped out of the store and back into the crisp air, Severus couldn't help but steal glances at Hermione, searching for some small sign of what she might be feeling. Her gloved hand was tucked into the crook of his arm, and though she walked with her usual confident stride, there was a softness to her expression that made his heart catch.Was it the way her lips curled into a faint smile, or the distant gleam in her eyes, as though she were replaying the moment she'd spent gazing at the rings?He found himself hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in her gaze, hoping for something—a word, a glance—that might betray her thoughts.Did she want this as much as he did?The idea of proposing felt premature, yet he couldn't stop himself from longing to know if she, too, had seen something in those rings that made the future feel more tangible, more possible.

It's much too soon.Severus wrestled with the thought, his mind circling the same conclusion over and over. They hadn't discussed it, hadn't even touched on the idea of a future bound by anything more than the fragile understanding they shared now. And yet, the thought of proposing to Hermione had rooted itself so deeply in him that it was impossible to ignore. It wasn't simply a matter of affection, it was the undeniable sense that she had brought something into his life he never thought he deserved- peace, understanding, and a love that didn't demand he change who he was. Rationally, he knew it would be reckless to bring it up now, to burden her with a question so heavy before they'd truly explored what they had, especially with her parents' upcoming arrival. But selfishly, he couldn't stop himself from imagining it, from craving the certainty that she would be his, not just in the quiet intimacy they shared now, but in every way that mattered.

"I'm not really a jewelry person, but there were some stunning pieces in there." Hermione gave Severus the perfect window of opportunity to evaluate her feelings on the subject. "Well, wait. I absolutely adore the ring you gave me. I just mean that I've never really found myself so taken in a jewelry store. Howperfectwas that last one? The mix of Slytherin and Gryffindor- it was as if we were meant to see it."

Severus noted her pace quickened with the excitement in her voice.

"Hermione," his voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of hesitancy. "Have you ever... considered what marriage might look like for us?"

The question hung between them, fragile and exposed, like the bare branches the lined the city sidewalks. Hermione slowed her steps, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked up at him. There was no shock in her expression, no discomfort, only the thoughtful consideration he had come to admire so deeply.

"I have," she admitted softly, her cheeks-tinged pink, whether from the cold or the vulnerability of the moment. "Not in a planning sort of way, but... the idea has crossed my mind." Her eyes searched his face, gauging his reaction. "Have you?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a touch of hope.

Severus held her gaze, his heart pounding as he nodded. "More than I probably should have," he confessed quietly, the weight of his honesty grounding the moment between them.

Hermione's lips curved into a soft smile, though her eyes remained fixed on his, searching for the layers of meaning behind his words. "Why 'more than you should have'?" she asked gently, her tone neither accusing nor pressing but filled with genuine curiosity.

Severus exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air as he looked down at the path before them. "Because it's hardly something I expected to consider in this lifetime," he admitted, his voice tinged with a self-deprecating edge. "And because...I worry it's too soon for you. For us."

Hermione reached out, her gloved hand brushing against his arm until he stopped walking and turned to her fully. "Too soon for what, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head. "To acknowledge how much we mean to each other? To consider a future together?" Her words were steady, but there was a tenderness in her expression that made his throat tighten.

"It's not a matter of meaning," Severus replied, his voice lower now, almost husky. "You mean more to me than I know how to articulate. It's the practicality of it. The fear of pushing you into something you're not ready for."

She stepped closer, her hand now resting lightly on his arm. "Severus, do you really think I'd let myself be pushed into anything?" she asked, her tone soft but with a teasing glimmer. "I've spent enough time by your side to know when something feels right. And this- us, feels like something worth thinking about, doesn't it?"

As Hermione's words settled between them, her steady reassurance warming the cold winter air, Severus found himself drawn into the quiet recesses of his mind. Her certainty, her unwavering belief in him, was a balm he scarcely felt he deserved.Could she truly understand what she was saying? What she was committing herself to by even entertaining the idea of a future with me?

He stole a glance at her—her eyes bright, her expression open and full of hope. She was so young, so full of promise. Her brilliance and compassion had carved out a path for her that could lead anywhere. And yet, she stood here, beside him, speaking of a future that, in his darker moments, he questioned whether he had any right to share with her.

What could she gain from binding herself to a man like me?A man with a past so deeply marred by mistakes and shadows that it still clung to him, even in moments of light. He thought of the life he had lived, the sacrifices he had made—not out of nobility, but out of guilt and necessity. His hands were hardly clean. Could he offer her anything more than a lifetime of complications, of whispers behind her back and judgments from those who would never understand?

And yet, here she was, her words soft but resolute, anchoring him in a way he couldn't deny. She wasn't a woman who made decisions lightly, and if she could see something in him worth believing in, perhaps it wasn't his place to question it. But the doubt lingered like an old wound, raw and aching. Could he truly make her happy? Was he selfish to even want to try?

Severus inhaled deeply, his gaze dropping to the snow-dusted path beneath their feet. She deserved better—he was certain of that. And yet, the thought of stepping back, of walking away from her warmth, was a weight he wasn't sure he could bear. He felt her hand gently squeeze his arm again, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced up to find her watching him, her expression patient but searching, as though she could see the conflict playing out behind his carefully guarded exterior.

"Severus," she said quietly, her voice pulling him back to the present, "whatever you're thinking... it doesn't change the fact that I'm here. That I'vechosento be here with you." Her words were a reminder, a promise. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt the faint stirrings of something he had long thought lost: hope.

Hermione's gaze softened, her hand remaining on his arm as if grounding him to the moment. "Severus," she said gently, "I can see there's something holding you back. I understand if you're not ready to talk about it, but... I'd like to know. What are the reasons? What's keeping you from believing in this—us?"

He exhaled slowly, his breath forming a pale mist in the cold air as he struggled to untangle the thoughts crowding his mind. For a moment, he considered deflecting, brushing off her question with some evasive remark. But the sincerity in her eyes—so filled with patience and care—demanded honesty he rarely gave, even to himself.

"It's not that I don't believe in us," he began, his voice low and deliberate, as though testing the words as he spoke them. "It's that I question whether I'm the man you should tie yourself to. Whether I have the right to ask for something so...permanent, knowing the life I've lived and the burdens I carry."

Hermione tilted her head slightly. "You think your past disqualifies you?" she asked softly, her tone free of judgment. "Severus, I know your past. I know what you've done—and I also know why you did it. You've spent years carrying the weight of those choices. Isn't it time you allowed yourself to be more than that?"

His jaw tightened, his gaze dropping again. "It's not just the past," he admitted after a pause. "It's the way others will see you—see us. You could face scorn, ridicule, whispers questioning why someone like you would marry someone like me. I've lived my life in shadows and isolation. I'm accustomed to it. But you... you deserve the light, Hermione. You deserve better than what I can offer."

She was quiet for a moment, her hand slipping from his arm only to take his hand in hers. "You don't think you're enough," she said, her voice steady but laced with quiet emotion. "But you are. You always have been, Severus. You see burdens and scars, but I see strength and loyalty. You think others' opinions matter to me?" She shook her head, a wry smile touching her lips. "After everything we've both faced, the world's opinions are the least of my concerns."

Her grip on his hand tightened. "The only question that matters is this: Doyouwant this? Doyouwant to share a future with me, despite the doubts and complications? Because if you do, we'll face all of it together. That's what matters to me."

She leaned into him as much as she could, to feel the weight and warmth of his body radiate against hers. "Besides," her tone was matter of fact, "everyone who matters already knows. If you live your life at the approval of others, you will never know peace."

Hermione's words resonated with him. She was right. He only cared what people would think about their relationship because he wanted to shield her from the pain and grief the gossip would cause.

Severus hesitated, her words hanging in the air like a challenge to every doubt he'd nurtured over the years. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the frost-laced trees lining the path, as if the winter scene might offer clarity. "Hermione, you say the world's opinions don't matter to you," he began, his voice measured and low, "but you know the world can be cruel. Especially to those who choose paths they don't understand."

Hermione's hand firmly gripped his, "I'm not afraid of what people think, Severus. I've never been one to live my life based on others' expectations."

"I know that," he said softly, almost wistfully. "But it's one thing to face their opinions alone. It's another to have them question your choice—publicly, constantly. You're revered, Hermione. A war heroine, an intellectual force, a shining example of what's good and right in our world. And then there's me—the man they all hoped would disappear into obscurity, at best." He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You know they'll say you're settling. That you've made some mistake. They'll think I've manipulated you somehow, or that you're trying to save me as another act of Gryffindor heroism."

Hermione stepped closer, her expression resolute. "Do you honestly think I care what small-minded people say? Severus, if anyone tries to diminish what we have, that says more about them than it ever will about us. I've faced worse than whispers and judgment before. Do you think I can't handle this?"

"It's not about handling it," he replied, his voice sharper now, though the frustration was directed inward rather than at her. "It's about what you'll lose because of me. Opportunities, friendships, the respect you've earned. Even if you don't care what they think, their opinions might still close doors for you. And I—" He faltered, his voice softening. "I couldn't bear to be the reason you lose anything."

Hermione's eyes softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek, drawing his gaze back to hers. "Severus," she said gently, "the only thing I would lose is a chance at happiness if I let their opinions dictate my life. I know what I want, and it's you. If people don't understand that it's not my concern. What matters is that we know it's right." She dropped her hand, her voice steady as she continued. "The question isn't about them. It's about you. Do you believe you deserve this? Because I do."

He stared at her, her words cutting through the icy wall of his doubts like sunlight breaking through clouds. For a moment, he couldn't speak, the weight of her conviction leaving him unmoored. "I don't know if I'll ever believe that," he admitted finally, his voice raw. "But if you do, perhaps that's enough for me to try."

"Severus," she began, her tone both tender and pragmatic, "no one ever really knows when the right time is. We tell ourselves there's some perfect moment—when everything is settled, when all the doubts have faded, when the world seems aligned, when we've been together for two years. But life doesn't work like that, does it?"

He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes narrowing in quiet thought. "No, it doesn't," he admitted. "Yet that uncertainty only makes the decision more precarious. Without knowing, how can one be certain it isn't a mistake?"

"Because the certainty doesn't come from the timing," Hermione replied, her voice soft but resolute. "It comes from what we feel, from the trust we've built, from knowing that we can face the uncertainty together. The 'right time' isn't some magical moment where everything is perfect. It's when we decide we're ready to take the step, knowing it won't be easy, but believing it's worth it."

Severus's lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considered her words. "You make it sound so simple," he said, his tone more contemplative than critical. "But simplicity has never been my way."

Hermione gave a quiet laugh, a sound that softened the tension between them. "No, it hasn't," she agreed, "but maybe it's time to let go of overthinking for once. The truth is, we'll never know if this is the perfect time. We'll never have all the answers. But what I do know is that I care for you, Severus. Deeply. And I believe in what we have. That feels like the right foundation to me."

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable, though his dark eyes held a flicker of something softer. "You're far too wise for your years," he muttered, though there was no sting in his words—only a grudging admiration.

Hermione squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe," she said lightly, "but sometimes it takes a bit of wisdom to see that overthinking can rob us of the good things waiting right in front of us." Her voice softened, her gaze steady. "What's in front of us right now, Severus, is something real. Maybe that's the only sign we need."

For a long moment, he simply studied her, the quiet conviction in her words echoing in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, she was right. Perhaps the 'right time' wasn't something he could predict or control. It was something he had to choose, here and now, in the warmth of her unwavering belief in him.

Hermione chuckled to herself. "Of course," she said with mock seriousness, "I should warn you—I'm not going to wait around forever, Severus. If you take too long, I might have to reconsider all those marriage proposals from Viktor Krum."

Severus's brows lifted, and for a moment, he simply stared at her, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. "Krum," he said flatly, his tone laced with dry skepticism. "How fortunate for him that he still holds a torch for you after all these years."

Hermione laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. "Oh, I don't think he's still pining," she admitted, "but I'm sure if I wrote him an owl saying I was reconsidering, he'd clear his calendar."

Severus let out a soft scoff, though the corner of his mouth twitched as if betraying the faintest hint of amusement. "Then it's a good thing I've always been quick on my feet," he said, his voice laced with sardonic wit. "I'd hate to see you throw your lot in with a Quidditch player of all people."

Hermione grinned, "You'd better keep up, then," she said lightly, though the warmth in her gaze softened her teasing. "I'd hate to have to explain to Viktor that he never really stood a chance."

Severus shook his head, a reluctant smirk ghosting across his lips. "Merlin, help me," he murmured, "you're impossible."

"And yet," she replied, her voice dipping with a touch of tenderness, "here you are, still with me."

The conversation had ended just as they were approaching the hotel.

"I'm nervous, Severus." Hermione's voice was calm.

Severus turned to face her, holding both of her hands. "Hermione, I want you to know that no one will ever take the place of your parents, but if things do not go as we hope, you will always have me. You willneverbe alone." He would never admit it to the witch, but he was nervous too. He willed himself not to let it show because he had to be strong for her, even if it meant putting up a front.

It was a quiet ride to their room, but Severus couldn't tell if the energy between them was tension from what was to come or excitement from the conversation they just shared. Hermione asked for a few moments to compose herself. Severus took the time to focus on the task at hand: reversing her parents' Obliviate. While he was almostcertainthat their potion would work, he didn't know whether the reversal- if possible, would be immediate. In fact, he wouldn't knowanythinguntil he saw how they reacted to the potion.

After a few minutes, Hermione emerged from the bedroom. Despite her best effort at concealment, her redden eyes and puffy face revealed to Severus that she had been crying.

Despite his immediate instinct to question her, he did nothing so as not to upset her further. He met her at the bedroom door and took her hand.

"Come, love. Draco's waiting."

Draco's office was to be expected: grandiose, spacious, and dark. It was a stark contrast to the light and golden hotel décor. The walls were painted a deep emerald green and the floor was laid with stunning hardwood. Portraits of known, and unknown, wizarding figures and quidditch scenes covered the walls.

One portrait caught the attention of Hermione. It was Draco's wedding day. He was standing proudly in a deep green suit, glaringly opposite his blonde hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around Natalie, stunning in what looked like an intricate lace and beading fitted gown with a train that surpassed the edges of the large frame.

Draco had never been particularly friendly- to friendorfoe- but love and happiness radiated from every inch of him.I would love to hear aboutthatlove story,Hermione thought to herself. In that moment, there was something about the unusual pair that made her even more steadfast in her decision to be with Severus. All things equal, Draco marrying a Muggle was probably themorescandalous story than her relationship with Severus.

Draco was typing furiously on a Muggle computer behind his large desk. He glanced up and greeted them with a nod.

"You really embraced the Muggle ways, Draco." Hermione half teased. Of the three standing there, she had the most experience with a Muggle upbringing, and despite her contentions while living at home, she was well acquainted with usual technologies. If anyone were to ask why she never utilized them, it was a simple answer: she didn't need to. Most of what a Muggle could do, a witch or wizard could do faster and more efficiently than with the aid of any Muggle device.

Draco snorted, "I hate this thing. It's just for show. I'm the only non-Muggle who works here. I had enough questions when I hung the portraits. I didn't need any more suspicions." He closed the top of the laptop he was working on and led them to a large table situated in a corner closest to the entrance.

He motioned for them to sit.

"The plan is easy. You need a potion served, and I own a hotel and run the staff. Today will be normal convention happenings, speakers, presentations, et cetera. Tomorrow is a big presentation dinner. You," he looked square at Hermione, "and Severus will be 'vendors' for a new line of dissolving toothbrushes that are being pushed by the environmentalists." He rolled his eyes and handed them brochures. "The actual vendors cannot make the dinner anymore," his eyes sparkled sarcastically, "so you will take their seats at dinner. Look at the brochures. Most of the time attendees don't talk about their wares at the dinner, but I'd rather you prepared and more convincing."

Hermione looked down at the brochure.The Better Bristle. She pictured her parents exploding from laughter over such a thing.

Draco continued, "Your table is the one next to your parents' table. I wasn't sure if you would be emotionally prepared to sit with them and pretend not to know them, plus if the potion's effects are not immediate, casual glances at you might aid in the reversal."

Hermione didn't recall Draco as a particularly good student, but she knew he wasn't unintelligent. He cared less about book studies and more about practical use. His plan reflected his aptitude for practical planning and use over memorization of facts and figures. His words alone strengthened Hermione's confidence in the plan. He appeared to have figured out every avenue of the operation.

"You parents will be the only two guests at their table with a 'dietary restriction'. Can we put the potions in their food or will they need to be hidden in a cocktail?"

Hermione looked at Severus. This question was outside her current knowledge, especially because they were unsure how effective it would be.

"Whatever it is served in, it must be consumed entirely. Hermione," Severus looked at her, "is there something you could be absolutely sure that your parents would consume completely?"

"If they are served agoodcup of tea, they will ask for more."

"Done," Draco stood. "If you can get me the potions beforehand, I will personally make sure they are added."

"Draco," Hermione was confused, "is it odd that the man who owns this hotel is working at events? We certainly don't want any of this to draw any unintentional attention to you."

Hermione was certainly grateful for his help, but she didn't want to put him at risk of revealing his identity.

Draco laughed, "Things may be different for me now, but one thing did not change. I love money, and mother and I had almost none left once we reestablished our lives here."

He snapped his fingers and immediately transformed in front of their eyes. Gone was the pale skin and blonde hair. Instead, his skin was tanned, and his hair was shoulder length and brown.

"Muggles are just as bad as wizards," he started, "I found out early on enough that if you don't watch the people working for you, they will steal. So, I started working…undercover…to find and fire staff members trying to cheat me."

Hearing this, Hermione felt a wave of relief. There was something about Draco transforming into a kind, caring, prefect man that didn't sit well with her. It was an odd thing to admit, but she wasgladthat he still held onto some of his Slytherin tendencies.

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus, amused, drawled, "and here I thought you had gone soft."

Another snap, and he was back to his blonde self. "I really took to Transfiguration during my remaining time at Ilvermorny. Not exactly a shock that Dark Arts wasn't exactly my calling." He looked at Severus knowingly. He walked back to the desk and picked up a folded piece of parchment. He handed it to Hermione.

"This probably breaks a bunch of Muggle rules, but well- I'm not a Muggle." He smirked.

Hermione unfolded the parchment. It was blank. She looked at him, puzzled.

"Reveliowill show your parents' current contact information- address, dental practice name. If the potion doesn't work, I- I didn't know whether you would want to know where they were, or if that would be too difficult. So, it will be your choice, but so long as they live there, you will always know where they are."

She nodded appreciatively, unable to voice the true thanks that she felt, and unwilling to think about the potion's failure.

"The dinner is semi-formal, so if you need anything-let me know. I'll have housekeeping drop off your tickets and nametags to your room."

"Draco, are they here?" Hermione's voice was small. He nodded.

Hermione's heart raced, her breath hitching at the realization that her parents were so close. A storm of emotions surged within her: hope, fear, and a bittersweet ache that she had kept buried since the war. She had dreamed of this moment for a long time, yet now that it was within reach, doubts whispered in her mind.Would they ever remember her fully?Would they forgive her for the memories she had altered, for the life she had hidden from them to keep them safe?But above all else, an undeniable yearning surged within her—to see their faces, hear their voices, and know, without question, that they were alive and safe.

She carefully refolded the piece of parchment and tucked it safely into the pocket of her jeans.

"Do you have any questions?"

Hermione looked up to see Severus and Draco staring at her curiously. "I think you covered everything, Draco. Thank you so much for your help with this."

"Unfortunately, all we can do now is wait." Draco shrugged.

Hermione turned to Severus. "We should let Draco get back to work. I think we've taken up enough of his time."

"Hermione, why don't you meet me back at the room. There is something I must discuss with Mr. Malfoy."

Normally, Hermione would have been curious, but she had too much on her mind to care about whatever Slytherin reunion they needed to share outside of her presence. Hermione stood from the table and placed a hand on Severus' shoulder. "I'll see you later."

She shuddered as she exited the room, but she couldn't tell if it was from nervousness, the cold, or the feeling of eyes watching her leave.

Draco sat back down at the table, opposite Severus. It was the first time they'd spoken alone since the war, and the years had carved subtle changes into Draco's features. He was no longer the pale, sneering boy of Hogwarts, nor the frightened young man torn between family loyalty and his conscience. Now, there was a steadiness in his gray eyes, a quiet resolve that Severus hadn't seen before.

"How are you really doing, Draco?" Severus asked, his voice low but pointed, cutting through the casual pretense they'd been maintaining for Hermione.

Draco hesitated before answering. "Better than I thought I'd be," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Leaving England was...necessary. Mother's thriving here, and honestly, so am I. It's easier to breathe without the weight of our name looming over every decision." He paused, glancing up at Severus. "I'm not the person I was, and I don't want to be. I've spent these months learning how to live differently. How to live with myself." There was no defensiveness in his tone, only honesty, and Severus found himself nodding, a flicker of approval passing through him. It seemed the boy he had once protected at great cost had truly found his way into the light.

"I'll never forget what you did for me—getting me into Ilvermorny. They could have turned me away, and I wouldn't have blamed them. But you spoke for me. Gave me a chance to start over. I owe much of what my life is now to you."

Severus inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes steady. "I merely pointed out your potential," he said, his voice free of its usual sharpness. "The rest was yours to prove."

Draco's smile widened, faint but genuine. "Still, I'm grateful. I've learned more in the past few years than I ever did at Hogwarts—not just about magic, but about myself. I'm not the person I was. For the first time, I'm learning how to live differently. How to live with myself."

Severus studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a small nod. "It seems you've done well with that chance," he said quietly, a flicker of approval crossing his face.

Draco leaned back in his chair. "You know," he began, his tone carrying a hint of amusement, "if someone had told me a decade ago that I'd end up working in real estate, I would have laughed in their face. Or hexed them, more likely."

Severus arched an eyebrow, his expression faintly skeptical. "Real estate? I thought this was all some elaborate ruse for Ms. Granger's sake." he echoed. "I would have expected you to pursue something more...magical."

Draco smirked, a glint of self-awareness in his eyes. "So did I, at first. Ilvermorny was a fresh start, and I threw myself into it—divination, potions, even wand lore. I thought I needed to prove something, to show the world I wasn't just a spoiled Death Eater's son. But by the time I graduated, I realized... I didn't want magic to define my life anymore. It felt like I was still chained to my past."

Severus leaned back slightly, his dark eyes narrowing in thought. "And real estate is the great escape, then?" he asked, his voice edged with curiosity rather than judgment.

Draco chuckled, the sound light but genuine. "Hardly. But it's something tangible, something I can control. I started small—helping Muggles and wizards alike find homes here in the city. There's something satisfying about it. A sense of building, of creating something stable. And... I'm good at it. Who knew all those years of navigating the complexities of pure-blood society would make me decent at negotiating contracts?"

Severus's lips curved into the faintest of smirks. "I suppose the Malfoy charm had to be put to some use."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "Charm isn't exactly what I'd call it, but yes. It's a far cry from what Father imagined for me, but it's honest work. And it's mine. No dark marks, no whispers of my family's sins—just a clean slate."

Severus studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod of approval. "You've done what many would find impossible," he said quietly. "You've found a way to redefine yourself. That is no small feat, Draco."

Draco's expression softened, gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Coming from you, that means more than you know. It's not the life I thought I'd have, but... it's a good one. And that's enough for me."

Severus tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on Draco with renewed curiosity. "You mentioned graduating already," he said, his tone deliberate. "An impressive feat, considering the distractions and challenges you faced after the war. How exactly did you manage it? Or should I say—how were you permitted to manage it?"

Draco exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a wry smile. "Permitted is the key word, isn't it?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Let's just say Headmaster Pope wasn't eager to have a Malfoy lingering in her halls for longer than absolutely necessary. Pope decided it was better for everyone if I finished quickly and left quietly."

Severus's brow furrowed slightly. "He forced you to accelerate?"

"In a manner of speaking," Draco replied with a dry chuckle. "He called it an 'opportunity' for me to apply myself and demonstrate that I wasn't a liability to the school's reputation. It was clear, though, that he wanted me out before anyone could really question why I was even allowed to enroll." He paused, his expression shifting to something more somber. "I can't blame him, really. I was a constant reminder of the war—and everything people wanted to forget."

Severus regarded him thoughtfully. "And yet you succeeded."

"I did," Draco said, his voice tinged with both pride and exhaustion. "He gave me an accelerated curriculum—extra coursework, advanced projects, everything short of private tutoring. It was brutal, but it kept me out of the public eye and out of trouble. And it worked. I mean it's not like I missed much at Hogwarts. I only had two N.E.W.T.S to finish." Draco sighed, his gaze distant for a moment. "It forced me to move forward, to start fresh somewhere far away from my family's shadow. I may not have left on the best terms, but at least I left with my head held high."

Severus allowed a rare flicker of approval to cross his face. "Sometimes, progress is found not in the comforts of familiarity, but in the necessity of survival. It seems you've made the most of it."

Draco smirked faintly, his expression lightening. "I suppose I have. And for what it's worth, I don't think I'd have gotten through it if I hadn't known you believed in me—even back then."

"I believed in the possibility of redemption. You've done well not to waste it, Draco." Severus' gaze softened, though his voice remained measured. "You've rebuilt your life here, evidently. Yet... surprising," he said, his voice laced with curiosity. "A Muggle wife, Draco?"

Draco's lips quirked into a faint smile, though there was a flicker of apprehension in his gray eyes. "Ah, yes," he said, drawing out the words. "I'm sure most think that the real scandal in the Malfoy family wasn't the war or Father's politics, but me marrying Natalie."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And how, pray tell, did that come about? I imagine it was not the life trajectory your family envisioned for you."

Draco gave a dry chuckle. "No, it wasn't. But after everything, I wasn't interested in following a script someone else wrote for me—least of all Father's. Natalie was… unexpected. I met her when I was trying to buy a property. She was the listing agent, and—well—she wasn't impressed with me at first."

Severus' lips twitched, though he remained silent, letting Draco continue.

"I was still a bit... sharp around the edges," Draco admitted, his tone self-deprecating. "But Natalie? She didn't care about my name or my past. She didn't care about wizarding politics or bloodlines. She just saw me for who I was in that moment—a man trying to start over. She challenged me, called me out when I was being insufferable, and didn't let me get away with any of my old rubbish. It was... refreshing. And, eventually, irresistible."

Severus tilted his head slightly. "And she knows?"

Draco nodded, his expression softening. "About magic? Yes. I told her not long after we started seeing each other seriously. I wasn't about to build something on lies, not again. She took it surprisingly well—though she did make me prove it. Levitating her coffee table was sufficient."

Severus's brow furrowed slightly. "And your mother? I imagine she had her... reservations."

Draco gave a rueful smile. "At first, yes. Mother's always been a bit of a traditionalist, but she's changed too. After the war, I think she realized how much the old ways had cost us. When she met Natalie, she couldn't deny that I was happy. That mattered more to her than anything else. Besides," he added with a faint smirk, "Natalie charmed her in record time. Mother always did have a soft spot for strong-willed women."

Severus studied Draco for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You've managed to surprise me, Draco," he said finally, his voice quieter but no less deliberate. "Not just in the choices you've made, but in the conviction with which you've pursued them."

Draco inclined his head, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "It hasn't been easy," he admitted, "but I've learned that the things worth having rarely are." Then, with a faint smirk, he added, "And if nothing else, it's given me the satisfaction of knowing Father would have been utterly scandalized. That alone makes it worthwhile."

For the first time in the conversation, Severus let out a low chuckle. "It seems you've truly found your way, Draco. For what it's worth, I imagine your Father's dismay would have been well-earned."

"So, Severus," he began lightly, "how are things with Hermione? I imagine being with someone as sharp as her keeps you on your toes."

Severus glanced at him, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, though there was no true irritation in his expression. "I fail to see how my relationship warrants your curiosity, Draco," he replied evenly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

Draco chuckled, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Don't hex me; I'm only asking out of polite interest. I'm genuinely pleased for you both. Seeing the two of you together… it makes sense in a way I didn't expect."

Severus exhaled slowly, his gaze softening just enough to suggest he wasn't entirely dismissive of the conversation. "Hermione is remarkable," he admitted, his voice quieter. "She challenges me in ways I did not think I needed, or wanted, but I find myself... better for it."

"That's quite the compliment coming from you. And honestly, it's refreshing to see you let someone in. For what it's worth, I think you've both earned a bit of happiness."

Severus arched a brow, his lips twitching faintly. "You've become quite the sentimentalist, Draco. Perhaps this Muggle wife of yours is having an undue influence."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe. But I mean it. After everything, seeing people I care about—yes, that includes you—find something meaningful, it's- grounding. Besides, Hermione's not the type to settle for less than the best, and frankly, neither are you."

Severus regarded him for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before finally nodding. "She is important to me," he said quietly, as though admitting it aloud gave it even greater weight. "Though I imagine you already surmised as much."

Draco smirked, "Oh, I more than surmised, Severus. Have you given any thought to making it official? I mean, Hermione strikes me as the type who values clarity in her commitments."

Severus stiffened almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes narrowing. "Marriage," he said, his voice cool and deliberate, "is hardly a subject I take lightly, Draco."

Draco raised a brow, leaning forward with evident interest. "Nor should you. But after everything you both have endured, surely the thought has crossed your mind?"

Severus exhaled slowly, his expression guarded. "It has," he admitted, though his tone suggested the words had been carefully measured. "However, such a step is not one to be rushed. There are...considerations."

Draco tilted his head, his smile softening. "What considerations, exactly? I doubt Hermione's the type to care about wealth or status. And as far as your history goes—well, if anyone understands the complexity of your past, it's her."

Severus's gaze flickered, "It is precisely because she understands that I hesitate. Hermione deserves stability, certainty. My life, as you well know, has been anything but."

Draco nodded slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. "I get that. But, Severus, if there's one thing I've learned from Natalie, it's that love isn't about waiting for everything to be perfect. It's about choosing each other, flaws and all, and figuring out the rest as you go."

Severus arched a brow, his voice tinged with dry humor. "Spoken like a man who once believed perfection was his birthright."

Draco smirked, unbothered by the jab. "Exactly. And look where that got me—married to a Muggle and happier than I ever thought I'd be. My point is, if you're waiting for some magical sign that everything is 'right,' you'll be waiting forever. Hermione already knows who you are, Severus. And she's still here."

Severus remained silent for a long moment; his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point beyond Draco's shoulder. Finally, he inclined his head slightly, a flicker of something almost vulnerable crossing his features. "You may have a point," he said quietly. "But that does not make the decision any less daunting."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is. But for what it's worth, I think you'd be mad not to take the leap. If anyone can handle you, it's Hermione Granger."

Severus's lips twitched faintly, though his expression remained somber. "An endorsement from Draco Malfoy. Perhaps the world truly has turned on its head."

Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You know I'm right, Severus. Just don't overthink it. Life's too short for that."

"You may be insufferable, Draco, but there is... merit in what you've said." Severus' tone was measured, almost reluctant, and his gaze shifted downward for a moment. "There's something I should mention, though I ask that it remain between us."

Draco's brows lifted in intrigue, his smirk softening into genuine curiosity. "Of course," he said, leaning forward slightly. "What's on your mind?"

Severus hesitated, the weight of his thoughts evident in his furrowed brow. "When Hermione and I were out earlier today, we stopped at a jewelry store. Purely by coincidence, or so I told myself at the time." His lips curved into a faint, self-deprecating smirk. "While we were there, I saw a ring. A piece that caught my attention for reasons I didn't entirely understand at first."

Draco's gray eyes gleamed with interest. "A ring?" he echoed, his voice carefully neutral. "Go on."

Severus continued, his voice quieter now. "It was simple, yet elegant. Rubies and emeralds set together—our house colors, Gryffindor and Slytherin. It felt...symbolic. A merging of opposites, if you will. I couldn't stop thinking about it after we left."

Draco's smirk returned, though there was a warmth behind it. "Let me guess—you're considering buying it, just to have it for when the time feels right?"

Severus gave a faint nod, his expression uncharacteristically contemplative. "Precisely. Though the very idea feels presumptuous, as if assuming too much."

Draco laughed softly, shaking his head. "Presumptuous? Severus, you're overthinking this—again. If you're even entertaining the idea of proposing one day, it's not presumptuous to be prepared. It's smart."

Severus' voice was laced with dry skepticism. "I wasn't aware you'd become an expert on such matters."

Draco shrugged, his grin widening. "Marriage does that to a man. But seriously, Severus—if the ring spoke to you, if it felt right, then get it. Hermione isn't the type to rush you or pressure you. And having it tucked away doesn't mean you have to use it tomorrow. It just means you're ready for when the moment comes."

Severus studied Draco for a long moment, the faintest flicker of something close to gratitude in his dark eyes. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "you're not entirely useless after all."

Draco laughed. "High praise indeed. Go get the ring, Severus. You'll thank me later."

That Saturday felt interminable, as if the clock had conspired against Hermione to stretch each second into an eternity. She hated that she had absolutely nothing in the hotel that could occupy her restless mind. Every tick of the clock was a reminder of the monumental task ahead: reversing the Obliviate she had cast on her parents. A torrent of emotions churned within her—hope, guilt, anxiety—all colliding with the weight of her longing to restore the bond they had once shared. Severus, ever observant, remained nearby, offering quiet reassurances in his own understated way, but even his presence couldn't dispel the oppressive weight of anticipation. For Hermione, the day dragged on as though testing her resolve, the promise of the dinner looming like a beacon she couldn't yet reach.

As the endless hours crawled by, Hermione couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something about Severus was different. He wasn't acting overtly unusual—his sharp wit and quiet reassurances were as steady as ever—but there was a subtle tension in his posture, a faraway look in his eyes when he thought she wasn't watching. It wasn't like him to be so distracted, especially when she needed his focus and support. She caught him staring at her more than once, his expression unreadable, almost searching.

"Are you alright?" she asked at one point, interrupting his reverie.

"Of course," he replied smoothly, though the slight delay in his response gave her pause.

Hermione frowned, narrowing her eyes as she studied him. He wasn't lying, exactly, but something was off. Had she missed something? Was he worried about her parents, or had something else entirely claimed his thoughts? She tried to push the question aside, reminding herself that today wasn't the time to press. But the mystery lingered in her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder what it was that Severus wasn't telling her.

The cab ride to dinner in the heart of New York felt like a whirlwind; the vibrant city lights blurring past the windows as neither Severus nor Hermione spoke much. The air between them was charged, but not with their usual easy rhythm of companionship. For Severus, his mind swirling with thoughts of the ring and what it symbolized, kept stealing glances at Hermione, wondering if she could sense the weight of his unspoken considerations. Meanwhile, Hermione stared out at the bustling streets, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she mentally rehearsed what she might say to her parents. Their conversation was stilted, each of them preoccupied with their own monumental thoughts, and the normally delightful anticipation of dinner was overshadowed by the feeling that they were merely going through the motions. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, both felt as though the evening was rushing past them, slipping through their grasp like grains of sand, leaving them disconnected and unsettled.

Dinner passed in a haze of half-hearted conversation, each trying to engage the other while their respective preoccupations loomed large in the silence between words. Severus commented on the wine, Hermione nodded distractedly. Hermione mentioned the charm of the restaurant's decor, Severus grunted in agreement, though his mind was far from the polished wood and candlelit tables. By the time they stepped out into the crisp New York air and hailed a cab back to their hotel, both were relieved that the evening was over, though neither said as much.

When they arrived at the hotel, Hermione immediately began her nightly routine, brushing her teeth and pulling on an oversized jumper, her movements hurried and purposeful. Severus watched her from his seat by the window, still lost in his thoughts. The sight of her—so small and determined, yet clearly burdened—pulled at something deep within him, but he said nothing.

At precisely 8:00 p.m., Hermione pulled back the covers and slid into bed, her hair still slightly damp from a quick shower. "I know it's early," she said, offering a faint smile as Severus raised a brow at her, "but the sooner I sleep, the sooner Sunday will be here. And the sooner it's done." Her voice trembled slightly on the last word, betraying her nerves despite her best effort to sound calm.

Severus nodded, understanding her logic even if it pained him to see her so unsettled. He walked over to her side of the bed, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "You've prepared meticulously," he said, his voice low and steady. "You'll do everything possible, Hermione. And that will be enough."

She looked up at him, her eyes soft but weary. "Thank you," she whispered, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

As she closed her eyes, Severus returned to his chair by the window, his thoughts a tangled mess of her anxieties and his own. Knowing that he would not be able to sleep at such an hour, he conjured a book onto the table in front of him and pretended it would be enough to distract Severus raised a brow at her, "but the sooner I sleep, the sooner Sunday will be here. And the sooner it's done." Her voice trembled slightly on the last word, betraying her nerves despite her best effort to sound calm.

Severus nodded, understanding her logic even if it pained him to see her so unsettled. He walked over to her side of the bed, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "You've prepared meticulously," he said, his voice low and steady. "You'll do everything possible, Hermione. And that will be enough."

She looked up at him, her eyes soft but weary. "Thank you," she whispered, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

As she closed her eyes, Severus returned to his chair by the window, his thoughts a tangled mess of her anxieties and his own. Knowing that he would not be able to sleep at such an hour, he conjured a book onto the table in front of him and pretended it would be enough to distract him.