A/N: Shoutout to my alpha readers Ruby, Juby, and Bryra, as well as my mom and my husband for all the encouragement along the way!

Massive amounts of thanks to SnakegirlSprocket for beta-ing and getting this ready for fan eyes!

And of course, if you're here, you probably know - I do not own Harry Potter, I just like to play here.

A bit of a slower chapter - we'll see if I can get another out this week!

Hermione woke up at 8 AM to the worst hangover she'd had in years. Typically, she didn't drink all that much, and if she did, she was much more careful about taking the right potions to mitigate the effects. But last night had been strange in so many ways that she hadn't had the wherewithal to keep it all straight.

She'd cried to Professor Snape. Snape! Just Snape! Spend my whole life insisting Ron and Harry refer to him with the right honorific, and then he just demands to be called by his surname! She'd just opened up, and dumped her twisted little emotions out at him, sobbing all over herself and getting drunk in the process. When she'd turned to head off her friends, he'd somehow escaped without being noticed. Hermione had been all at once disappointed and relieved that she didn't have to explain to Harry and Ginny what she was doing at the pub with their old Potions Master. To be quite honest, she didn't really know the answer to that herself.

It had been cathartic. He'd been rather kind, especially by his standards, when she'd told him her story. And what of his aspirations–Severus Snape investigating what the Ministry would not? What a prospect!

Although her head pounded, she was well enough to remember she was due at Flourish and Blotts in just under half an hour. She'd have to pick up some breakfast and revitalizing potions on the walk there. Today was going to be a rough day.

Halfway down the stairs, she recalled that she was supposed to bring her Investigation Protocol Manual with her in case Snape showed up to borrow it. She'd wanted to cry again at having to turn back up the flights of stairs, but it had taken her all morning to get her eyes to not look so swollen after her night of liquor and tears. When she finally reached the first floor foyer, she shot a glare at the wards of the basement apartment.

"Someday, I will get my potions from you," she promised. "I will make friends with everyone in this building and I will have as much Sober Up as a girl could want."

Luckily, once she'd made it to Flourish and Blotts, her work was waiting for her. She'd been able to accomplish quite a lot in the way of organization the day before. Although there was still much to be done, once she re-charmed her quills and arithmancy matrices, she was free to nurse her hangover while researching.

She read whatever she could about complex charms and place magic. Bill's comparison of Gringott's to Hogwarts had really activated her curiosity. She'd spent years marveling at the intricate enchantments of the ancient castle. She even had plenty of experience with its more mysteriously sentient corners, like the Room of Requirement and other secret passageways. Not for the first time, she regretted not attempting to make a second Marauder's Map while she was a student, or demanding to be taught by one of the creators themselves before they died. She supposed there'd been much more pressing issues at hand.

Hermione often wondered how much the war had curtailed a deeper education in magic. Certainly, she'd learned a lot about defensive magic, healing, protection…and of course dark magics like horcruxes and Unforgiveable curses. But sometimes, especially when she spoke to witches or wizards who'd been educated before Voldemort's first rise to power, she felt like she was missing something of the creativity and finesse of what magic could be.

All the Marauders had been Animagi, which was no small feat, and the map was very impressive. Now that she was thinking about it, Snape had been quite the creative student as well. If his old potions textbook were anything to go off of, he'd been throwing convention out for efficacy in his brews and developing his own spellwork by the age of sixteen. Hermione and her friends had certainly confronted and risen to challenges well past their years…but most of it had been borne out of dire necessity. Certainly after Voldemort's return, their education had become more or less a blunt instrument to shape them for war. Despite her incessant reading and studying on her own time, she lamented the magical childhood she might have had without the war.

Pushing away the maudlin thoughts that were certainly a lingering side-effect of her hangover, Hermione refocused her thoughts on the Marauder's Map. Clearly, they had tapped into something of the intelligence of the castle itself in order to create it. She'd ask to borrow it from Harry soon, and maybe George would have something to say about it as well.

Much of what she was finding in the books about such overwhelming and deeply connected enchantments actually pertained to warding. Wards were not something she'd missed out on, and her skill with them had only improved since her time on the run while hunting horcruxes. Still, none of the books were instructional and there was only so much she could get out of reading theory. She would need to find someone with experience to teach her more. Her mind immediately went to her neighbor's doorway…perhaps that would be her opportunity to make a connection. She filed the thought away and took a moment to ensure that everything was going smoothly with her note-taking and calculations.

Satisfied, she finally felt ready to ask the shop owners a few questions, and inform them of the plan that was beginning to form in her mind. Casting a tempus charm, she realized it was already nearly time for lunch and smiled to herself. These hours are already passing so much more pleasurably than at the Aurory.

She found Julius and Netta bickering lightly about one of their new displays. In the day and a half that Hermione had spent in the shop, she'd realized that bickering was by far what the proprietors did most often. None of it seemed to really be based in much of anything like a true disagreement, and much of it appeared to be a little flirtatious. At the very least, Hermione found them charming and hoped that her plan would appeal to them

"Julius, you always stack the books like this and I tell you every time, it makes it harder for customers to get their copy," Netta groused, waving a book in the air.

Julius laughed wryly. "Netta, you never had the sense for these types of things. It's about making an impact! Once they're drawn in, they'll get their hands on a copy no matter what."

"Excuse me," Hermione said politely. "If you're not too busy, I have a few questions and ideas I'd like to run by the two of you."

"Of course, Hermione," Netta said. "Let's take a seat in the office."

"Jones!" Julius called out to one of the young workers. "We're in a meeting, you're in charge of the floor. Only interrupt us if it's quite important."

The young man nodded, a self-important smile spreading across his face as he glanced superiorly at the two other shop workers who scowled back.

Once they were settled in, Hermione didn't waste any time launching into an explanation of what she'd accomplished so far.

"I've been making some steady progress on getting your books together, and I'm looking for ways to best handle any potential discrepancy that may come up. For that, all we really need is time. I estimate it will take about a week for all of that information to be straightened out."

"Much shorter than I expected," Netta said with a jovial smile. "I've been avoiding those older ledgers because I knew it would take me ages."

"Now, while that is in process, we have a little bit of time to start thinking about and designing your new system. Wand payments are the only legally required change, but I would actually recommend taking this opportunity to streamline your entire operation. Partially, I think it will be easier for you in the long run. But I also believe it will safeguard against any undue interference, while ensuring the habits of the past don't come back to haunt you."

"That's excellent news, my dear," Julius boomed. "I'm on board for anything that keeps the Ministry out of our hair."

Hermione nodded. "Alright. First, I have a few questions for you about the shop. How magicked are the shelves and such?"

"We have all of the standard anti-theft measures in place, though that's not typically much of a problem we face," Netta said.

Hermione scribbled the information into the beginnings of an entirely different matrix. "I'd love a list of those spells and perhaps how often they have been recast. Do either of you have special, magical connections with the space. For instance, do the shelves ever communicate directly with you?"

Julius and Netta exchanged slightly wary looks at this and Hermione felt the need to reassure them. "I know this might seem like awfully private information, but I'm hoping we can build such a connection in order to increase the security of your business."

With a sigh, Julius nodded. "I've always had a way with books, just like my father did."

"And I always know when something needs restocking," Netta said. "You know…I hadn't even thought of that as magic. I think I just considered it all of my years of experience."

"Netta, I can assure you, it is magic," Hermione said with a smile. "If I'm correct, it's likely a very old familial enchantment. Again, if there are any founding documents or old journals about the original application of these spells, that would be absolutely key in strengthening and building off of them."

"I think I might be able to stir up something like that," Julius said, and he glared at the portrait of his father. "At the very least, I'll ask all of the past Blotts if they know."

"Wonderful!" Hermione said, happy that they both seemed open to the idea. "I still have some research to do, but I'm hoping we can make your system entirely magical. Not only will you be able to take wand payments, but your ledgers, your inventory, and your shelves will all be enchanted to work together for your benefit." She paused, thinking about how to best phrase the next goal for her project. "And best of all, the hope is that the enchantment will only be accessible to you and your staff. To others who have no business in it, it would be nearly impervious."

Netta and Julius were very pleased with the idea indeed. Just as they were celebrating with some biscuits, there was an insistent knock on the door. When it opened to reveal a nervous-looking Jones, Julius narrowed his eyes.

"Pardon the intrusion," Jones began.

"It better be for a good reason…" Julius growled, and Netta slapped his arm reprovingly.

"Well…it's Master Harry Potter, sir," Jones said, his eyes widening with emphasis on the name. "He's come to call for Miss Granger."

"I suppose we are running right into lunchtime," Netta said warmly. "Hermione, we will try our best to gather the information you seek. Just let us know if you think of anything else."

"Thank you," she said, emerging from the office. She stopped when she saw that it was not only Harry, but Ron who waited for her. Scowling slightly, she continued towards them. "Are you two on break?"

"We were hoping to take you out," Harry said. After a moment of silence, he elbowed Ron.

"Oh, uh…and we thought it would be nice to see where you work now," he said weakly. They may be all-grown up, but there was something particularly uncanny about moments like this when it felt like they were twelve years old again. Hermione and Ron were no strangers to butting heads, and though Harry could have flashes of temper himself, more often than not, he was playing peacekeeper between the two of them. It had been particularly awkward during the handful of years that Hermione and Ron had dated, when their tiffs would make Harry nearly pull out his hair in frustration. With that romantic element long dismissed in their friendship, they'd reverted to an earlier, more innocent pattern.

Despite the fact that Hermione was sure the visit would not do much in the way of truly convincing Ron that this was a good place for her, she was encouraged that he was at least trying.

"Come on to the back then," she said, leading them to the collections. "I'll grab my purse and you can see what I've been up to."

As they took in the floating matrix of numbers and runes, the several quills taking notes, and the veritable mountain of books surrounding her little table, both Ron and Harry smiled. Hermione tried to not watch them too closely, reaching for her purse and cloak as if their reactions didn't much matter to her. And in a sense, they didn't.

While she wanted support, she certainly did not need their approval. After so many years as a trio, both in school and the professional world, Hermione needed to strike out on her own. That separation was always bound to cause some friction. Still, when she straightened and turned towards them, she felt the knots in her stomach loosen at the light expressions on their faces.

"Do I even want to know what this is?" Ron said warmly, pointing at the ever shifting matrices.

"It's keyed to the various requirements and regulations of business taxation law. As the information from the ledgers goes in, I'll use the arithmancy to find the best way for the businesses to handle their earnings."

Harry and Ron traded pleasantly befuddled looks before grinning.

"Probably shouldn't have asked," confessed Ron. "But it sounds brilliant!"

They laughed. Feeling somewhat better, Hermione gestured around.

"And when I'm not looking at that, I'm researching. Just trying to get this place totally streamlined long before the law goes into effect at the end of this year. That way, they can work out all of the kinks."

"Well, that sounds perfect for you," Harry said, running his finger along some of the titles on the desk.

"Yeah," Ron agreed distractedly. "Now, where shall we go for lunch, then? I'm starving."

Hermione was much too tired after her intense night and much too familiar with Ron's unbeatable appetite to feel much offense. To be honest, she was more than happy to simply not talk about the situation. Sometimes, they did best when they both just let go of whatever it was that had caused the argument. That pattern had been disastrous as a couple, but friends were allowed to disagree and then not talk about it as much. She was sure with time, his harsh opinion of her choices might soften, but for the moment, as long as they could agree to disagree, she could manage.

"Honestly, I've been wanting to try that new place, Monkshood?" Hermione suggested. "But I'm good with anything."

"That's a great idea, Hermione," Harry said and Ron nodded.

"Let's go there."

They made their way to the little bistro that had taken over space right at the intersection of Diagon and Knockturn. Hermione marveled at how much the place had changed since her childhood. The aesthetic of Knockturn was still what she would call "Slytherin chic," but the less savory elements had retreated into some darker shadow, elsewhere.

Many of the shops had pivoted slightly in order to maintain any type of market share or clientele. After the war and all of the trials, people had been driven to show and perhaps even prove they had no connection or sympathy for Voldemort or his preferred style of magic. The shops that couldn't adapt closed, and slowly, the spaces had been bought by new investors and transformed. Monkshood was the latest example, a cafe that specialized in breakfast and lunch, though it also appeared to be quite the elegant cocktail bar in the evening hours.

They queued at the cashier and Hermione was overjoyed to see the bright little sign on the countertop.

"'Now Taking Wand Payments!'" she read aloud, more to herself than anyone else. "Excellent, a little bit of field research."

The boys traded looks and then put in their orders, shuffling off in search of a good table.

"Okay, I'd like the BLT with the Mandrake Salad on the side, and a bottle of your fresh-pressed pumpkin juice," Hermione said. As the witch behind the bar nodded and tallied up her total, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath, trying to focus all of her senses on the magic around her. There was a lot coming from the kitchen, of course, a bright thrum of warm activity. Behind her, she could sense the customers, each with their own unique frequency, a low level of constant buzzing. She also sensed what felt like a cement wall, cool and hard, beneath everything else - the wards on the building, she realized. She filed through each of these signatures as quickly as possible, opening her eyes again when her awareness had stabilized.

"That'll be 14 sickles, Miss," the cashier said. "Will you be paying in coin or with your wand?"

Not wanting to speak and break her focus, Hermione simply smiled and pulled out her wand.

"Excellent, just tap it to the receiver there."

She did so, feeling the light zap from the transaction that would have normally gone unnoticed. She smiled and thanked the clerk, clasping the bottle of cold juice before turning to seek out Harry and Ron. Although she'd used wand payments several times before, she'd never felt the magic of it. The sensation hadn't given her much information in and of itself, but it had certainly brought back all of her earlier thoughts. Within a few moments of sitting down, she heard her name and then a few seconds of silence before she realized Harry had asked her a question.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, shaking herself back to the present moment. "What did you ask?"

He looked at her with an amused look. "Come on, it's your break, time to think about something other than work. I was just asking you if you had planned on bringing anyone to the benefit this weekend?"

"No, I'd forgotten that was even happening," she groaned, taking another gulp of her pumpkin juice. Then she caught the glint in Harry's eyes as he raised his eyebrows at Ron. "Why do you ask? What's that look about?"

"Well, 'Mione, Harry and Gin said they went to find you last night," Ron said with a smirk. "And although you were alone when they got to the Leaky, they claim that there were several glasses at your booth."

"Exactly two of each kind of glass, to be specific," Harry said.

"So we were wondering when you were going to tell us about your new bloke," Ron said, puffing himself up slightly as if the idea offended him. Hermione laughed. Even if things got a little tense between her and Ron at times, they'd both long-realized they were simply not made to be anything more than friends.

"What's to say I wasn't meeting with another witch," she asked primly.

"Well, I didn't know you went that way too, but the question stands," Harry said. "Who's your new drinking partner?"

For a moment, Hermione considered not telling them. She had certainly been thankful the night before that Severus had made an abrupt exit. But on the other hand…she had absolutely nothing to hide. It wasn't as if it had been a date…just two war heroes catching up over a drink. She burst into giggles at the true but ridiculously ill-fitting description.

"Oh, now I absolutely have to know," Ron said. "Was it Seamus? He said he saw you recently." He began to list off the majority of the Gryffindors they knew from school, each name making her laugh harder and harder at how far he was from guessing correctly.

"You wouldn't even believe me if I told you," she gasped, trying to gather her breath.

A greenish tinge washed over Ron's expression as he looked at her incredulously. "Oh, 'Mione. Please tell me it wasn't McLaggen?"

She lost her composure once again.

"No," she said through her laughter. "But he wishes. He came onto me and I transfigured his face into a pig snout."

"Hermione!" Harry scolded, more than a little scandalized. The action wasn't illegal per se, but it certainly wasn't characteristic of her usual comportment in public.

"He looked about ready to hex me, which would have been fine, I was ready," she continued the story, her eyes lighting with the excitement of it.

"What stopped him," Ron asked. "Suddenly remember not to be a prat?"

"Snape disarmed him, then sent him on his way when McLaggen started squealing." Hermione beamed as she watched her friends' faces go blank with shock and then screw up in confusion. "Said it was for McLaggen's benefit, not mine. Then he somehow convinced Tom not to throw me out for brawling and the next thing I knew I was in the back corner with a cup of tea."

Harry and Ron gaped at her. Harry was the first to recover.

"Snape…was the one you were drinking with last night?" he asked. "Right after he intervened in a duel that you started?"

"'Mione," Ron said slowly. "I know I was a bit rude last night, but I swear, I had no intention of upsetting you that much."

Harry nodded. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire…then into an icy poisonous cauldron, I suppose."

Hermione scowled at them. "Honestly, you two. Grow up. It wasn't nearly that bad. We split a bottle of whiskey as thanks for him getting rid of McLaggen faster than I ever could, and then you and Gin came and got me."

"Harry, she's saying these things as if it's supposed to make more sense, not less," Ron said, looking at her as if she'd gone quite mad. "'Mione, when were you going to tell us you were friends with Snape?"

Hermione scoffed. "Hardly. Or rather, I'm sure he'd hex you if he heard you say that. I've just run into him a couple of times this week…at the Ministry, at the shop." She decided not to mention that she was likely to see him again today, if he indeed came for the manual she'd promised. He's really not supposed to have a manual like that. Leave it to Harry and Ron to think this is an instance in which the rules are important.

"I just can't imagine him having a drink, cozied up in the corner booth with you," Ron said with a shiver. "The bat of the dungeons."

"Snape's a normal person, Ronald," Hermione chastised. Harry and Ron both gave her dubious looks and she conceded. "Well, maybe normal isn't quite the right word, but he's hardly what you two always made him out to be."

"I wouldn't know," Ron said. "He hasn't shown up for any Order events since the war. Thinking of him at the pub is just too weird."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but secretly wondered how much more surprised Ron would be to hear that Snape had followed her into said-pub because she was crying.

"Well, that's why I said you wouldn't believe me even if I told you. It was a bit of an unexpected turn of the evening, but not unpleasant. Snape was actually quite kind to me…you know, by his standards."

"That's Professor Snape to you," Ron warned paradoxically. "What is the world coming to?"

Hermione looked over to Harry for some assistance in getting Ron to accept her words, but found that her friend was looking oddly dejected.

"Why didn't he stick around to say hello?" Harry asked glumly. "I would have loved to have seen him. I send a letter every time the Order meets up trying to get him to attend."

Hermione groaned. "Really, I have no idea what to do with you two."

Luckily, their meals arrived just then, floating out on enchanted platters. They all seemed enthusiastic about the distraction of food. As their conversation meandered back to more mundane subjects, Hermione acknowledged that Ron and Harry did have a point. Snape's behavior was something of a surprise…but one that was not at all unwelcome. She didn't really care to think too much about why or how, but she was very interested in hearing more about his new venture if she could.