A/N: We are progressing, but in fits and starts. Y'all know he's way too stubborn for his own good.

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.

Unlike last time she'd awoken after a night at the pub with Severus Snape, Hermione was not frightfully hungover. However, the roiling emotions that had spun through her since the night before made her feel just about as nauseous. Honestly, she might as well have been out of her mind, waking up on her couch, still in her dress robes. After she'd come upstairs, she'd had entirely too much to think about and had sat frozen until her body had taken matters into its own hands.

Crookshanks meowed at her, overly cheerful in the light of her finally discovering what he had clearly known for ages. She scowled at her cat as she opened him a can of food. She stepped into her bathroom, deftly avoiding her reflection while changing out of her clothes and stepping into the shower.

Once the scalding water pounded down on her, she finally let herself consider the revelations of the night before. To keep herself from getting too embarrassed even in the privacy of her own head, she decided to frame it like an Arithmantic matrix— starting with the most tangible information and working in order of increasing variability…or in this case, emotional volatility.

First: I had a wonderful time last night. Despite the derailing run-in with Baxtley and having to dance with Malfoy, everything else had been quite nice. She cut her thoughts off, feeling her mind begin to reel at what had made it so nice. Plenty of time to get to that later, just stick with the bare facts. She grabbed a flannel and started scrubbing her body vigorously, needing her blood to flow more steadily to her brain.

Second: Severus Snape lives in my building. Or rather, she lived in his building, given that the basement flat had been occupied and warded in the exact same way since she'd moved in a year and a half ago. She was almost entirely certain that he hadn't known this fact until the exact moment she had realized it herself. Hermione winced, and not from the products she was rinsing from her hair, when she remembered that she'd immediately called him the basement witch. Then again, what had he said? Note-posting busybody?

Well, certainly rude, but not surprising and…a bit true if she were being honest. She stood for as long as she could justify under the shower before turning off the tap and reaching for her towel. Once she was relatively dry, she allowed herself to look into the mirror, forcing herself to broach the final headlining thought.

Third: I asked Severus Snape to come up to my apartment. Despite being gentle with herself and completely alone, she watched as her reflection turned bright crimson. Groaning indignantly, she seized her comb and began to tug it through her wet curls, a little rougher than she normally would.

What could have possibly possessed her to do such a thing? It was certainly because of the first factor, but one dance that was really more of a forced Occlumency session and a couple of hours of competitive academic discussion hardly seemed like an excuse! What had she even been thinking to do? Don't be stupid, Hermione, you know exactly what you wanted to do. They'd already gone for a nightcap, what else was there to do? He just looked so nice in that blue with his hair back and…those eyes. Heat flooded her chest as she thought about his eyes and how she felt like he was never just looking, but always seeing. She growled at herself, throwing the comb down and giving up on detangling as a bad job. She smoothed as much slicking potion into her hair as she could before plaiting it into a loose braid.

Starting in on the rest of her morning routine, a small voice in the back of her mind questioned if she was more disappointed over asking…or the fact that he hadn't actually come upstairs with her. Another rush of embarrassment hit her like a train as she replayed the mental image of his realization and immediate anger. The poor man was just trying to get back to his heavily warded flat when she'd gone about and mucked it all up. Throwing yourself at him all night and then just by chance you live in the same apartment? What must he think?

Frankly, wondering made her sick. Hermione hadn't thought very deeply about it, but she'd been enjoying her pleasant run-ins with the surly potions master. That much is beyond obvious by now, you fool. She wondered at her own lack of awareness over the past week. She'd certainly noticed him physically, particularly how much healthier he looked now. She'd also come to realize that the intense features of his face that had made him into an imposing caricature in her youth actually had a quite different effect on her now that she was older. He was no traditional beauty, but neither was she for that matter, and it wasn't really something she thought about all that much when considering men. He had a strong, expressive face and apparently, she found it very striking.

She was spared from delving any deeper by the appearance of Ginny's patronus.

"I've waited bloody long enough - we need to meet up and talk about last night. I heard you tried Monkshood the other day, let's go there. We need to chat. Meet me and Luna there at 10:30. And so help me 'Mione, if you are late, I'm going to pull you out of bed myself - I don't care whose it is!"

Despite herself, a grin curled Hermione's lips. The shower had done her some good, but in all honesty, she felt like talking to her friends might be the next step in figuring out what to do. If she stayed in her head about it, she'd just go round and round until she exploded. Given the delicacy of the situation, that certainly didn't seem like the best course of action.

Twenty minutes saw her dressed and ready to face her friends…but unsure of walking through her own foyer. Heaving a focusing breath, she set aside her nerves and marched down. She'd made sure that Crookshanks was locked safely inside her flat, though that had never stopped her familiar from going wherever he pleased in the past. When she finally reached the bottom step, she didn't allow herself a single glance towards the basement apartment before exiting the building.

Hermione arrived several minutes early, which was lucky as the restaurant was beginning to fill up. She went ahead and ordered a basket of pastries and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. It had certainly not been her intention, but if Ginny felt out of the loop, it was better to make a peace offering and get on with it. Having immediate food on hand was never a bad idea, especially at this point in her pregnancy.

This strategy appeared to work, as Hermione watched the sharp edge in Ginny's eyes melt away at the sight of the table. Luna was also delighted, but it was generally rare for her to have anything resembling a negative reaction. They settled themselves in while Hermione poured them a glass of juice and passed around the bread basket. After the third offer of jam and butter, Ginny levelled her with a look.

"Come off it, 'Mione," she said, talking through a mouthful of croissant. "Time to spill."

"Okay. I think…I like Severus Snape."

Luna clapped her hands dreamily while Ginny looked like her brain had frozen in its tracks.

"Oh, that's lovely, Hermione," Luna cooed. "That's actually quite a good pairing now that I think about it!"

"WHAT?" Ginny shouted, finally catching up to the realization.

"Shh…" Hermione said, glancing around nervously as the other diners looked over to their table.

"Sorry, it's just a shock," Ginny said

"Do you think so? I think it makes sense," Luna said resolutely. "They're both so…studious. And easily perturbed if someone interrupts their work. And so highly principled, but not in ways that are always obvious at first. And you know, I think Hermione's always had a bit of a cunning dark streak compared to the rest of us."

Hermione glared at Luna but then realized that her face was only proving her friend correct. She really hadn't considered it so plainly like that, but she had to admit, there were some similarities…and not all of them very complimentary.

"I guess you have a point, there," Ginny said, thinking it over. "But it is a bit shocking. Granted, that dance last night…you guys were just staring into each other's eyes the entire time!"

"Well, that was mostly to do with the Legilimency." Hermione blushed as Snape's black eyes flashed into her mind. "I don't think it meant anything."

Both of her friends looked at each other and then back to her, their eyes hungry for more information.

"Sorry, Miss Granger," Ginny said archly. "I think I'm going to need a lot more context. From the very beginning, if you please?"

So she recounted everything that had happened, from the moment she'd first seen Snape at the Ministry, their run-ins about town, and everything that had happened at the Gala. Each word brought a little bit of relief to the pressure in her head. It was nice to confide in other women, rather than Harry and Ron. She'd been getting better at that in recent years, but it still wasn't her first instinct. She'd struggled to connect with the girls of her year in Hogwarts, and things had only become worse at the Aurory which was heavily dominated by men. It felt good to talk to Ginny and Luna, who would interrupt for clarity or a little comment here and there, but were decidedly not trying to turn the conversation to quidditch or other such topics. However, recollecting the cheery moments of the night before also made her heart squeeze and her stomach shift with uncertainty of where she presently stood with the moody potions master.

Once she'd reached their moment of mutual revelation, Ginny was openly gaping at her while Luna appeared to be deep in thought.

"You live in the same building?" the redhead nearly shouted. After another hissed admonishment from Hermione, she continued in a lower tone, her eyebrows wiggling. "So…did he come upstairs? Or did you go downstairs?"

Hermione dropped her face into her hands, groaning.

"Neither… Honestly, he seemed furious. I was mortified."

"Furious about being invited into the flat of a young and pretty witch he'd just spent most of the evening with?" Ginny remarked. "I don't understand. What could he have found offensive about that?"

"But this is Severus Snape we're talking about," Luna reminded her. "He could take offense at a rock for being too still…plus by the sounds of it, he didn't get angry until he realized that you also live there, right Hermione?"

"I think that's right," she said, taking a swig of her juice to bring some energy back. "But I truly don't know if he even understood what I was asking him. I mean…looking back on it, he clearly was just walking into his own house. Probably wondering what the hell I was doing at the same time." She rubbed her eyes again, suddenly longing to have access to a time turner.

"Oh, 'Mione, this isn't my brother we're talking about…or even Harry for that matter. I can't imagine Snape is that dense," Ginny said. "If it's anything like how you described, you said it just about as clearly as anyone ever does."

"A double agent has to know people," Luna said, her eyes faraway. "That doesn't mean he's good with them. Also, I imagine it might be fairly unbelievable to him that you, of all people, would invite him up."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Ginny whined. "I could have wing-womened you at the ball more."

"I didn't realize until last night. It was just a spur of the moment thing."

"What do you think changed?" Luna asked.

Hermione thought about it. "You know, this morning I was thinking about how it's just a big mix of all of this week. But I only started thinking clearly about it after that dance."

"Is it weird if I think it's hotter that he was reading your mind than if you two were just falling madly in love in front of the whole world to see?" Ginny asked with a sly smile.

"No," both Hermione and Luna replied at the same time and they dissolved into giggles.

"I don't want to read into any of it," Hermione said, selecting another pastry for herself and nervously tearing pieces off. "I don't even know what to do next."

"I just don't get it – he's right downstairs!" Ginny said, getting a little riled up. "Just march in there."

"Gin, he's like the king of Slytherin attitude," Luna said. "I'm sure that approach worked on Harry, but I do think Hermione will have to try something a bit more subtle."

"What do you think, 'Mione," Ginny said. "What's your next move?"

"I think you're both right," she replied, her mind racing. "It may be Gryffindor boldness, but I need to at least try to talk to him. If that doesn't work, then I'll adjust my methods. I just don't want there to be any weirdness…we had been getting on so well. I think I made him very uncomfortable."

"Have you told the boys about this?" Ginny asked.

"No, and I would…prefer if it stayed that way for the time being," Hermione said, giving Ginny a warning glare. She held up her hands in innocence. "They'll probably badger you a little, and you can tell them whatever you want…you can even tell them I fancy Snape. Just don't tell them he lives in my building or how terribly the night ended. There's no part of them knowing that part that will help."

There was a lull as they all imagined how reactive Harry and Ron might become in a situation like that, shivering and shaking their heads.

"By the way, Hermione, good on you for not dancing with those Auror pricks," Ginny said. "Ron was really trying to get them off of it, but obviously, that didn't work."

Hermione was quite glad to hear that. She hadn't known how to interpret Ron's words the night before. She couldn't imagine him trying to talk her up to a bunch of suitors, especially such stupid ones from the Ministry. But for one terrifying moment, she'd thought he'd been trying to sell her off like the old family cow. It had probably been a factor in why she'd gotten stuck in her Occlusion.

They finished their meal, rehashing some of the finer details. When they walked outside, both Luna and Ginny hugged her and wished her luck.

"You absolutely have to keep us up to date," Ginny demanded, her eyes going wide and serious. "I mean it, 'Mione. I might think you're a little barmy for it, but like hell I'm going to let you try to tackle something like this on your own."

"Don't forget to bathe in moon water next time you get the chance," Luna said. Handing out sideways magical advice was the way she expressed her care the most. "It helps strengthen your natural glamour and protects you from whirring zinglos."

When Hermione returned, full of a sturdy breakfast and the support of her friends, she stood, looking down at the basement apartment. It took her a little longer than usual for her mind to dismiss the wards and charms that tried to push her away. It could have just been in her head, but they felt the strongest they had since she'd first encountered them. Every part of her wanted to spin and run back up to her own flat, but really things like this were best dealt with sooner than later. To be honest, she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say to Snape, but she knew she hated how last night had ended. Not wanting to let herself stew on it any longer, she slipped down the few steps and knocked firmly on his door.

The insistent knock came once again and Severus had to bite his tongue from shouting at the witch outside of his flat. Hasn't she done enough already? His entire mental state was rockier than it'd been in years. He couldn't imagine facing her after the night before.

Despite finishing the potion with Draco with plenty of time left in the night, Severus hadn't managed to get any sleep. Instead, he'd spent the hours trying to accomplish his research and distract his mind from the fiasco that had been his interaction with Hermione Granger. In reality, this meant he would accomplish about fifteen minutes of work only to be sidetracked into anxiously pacing his flat, concocting ways he could possibly avoid his neighbors even more.

He'd already doubled the wards on the entrance, though they had little effect considering she already knew the apartment was there, as evidenced by her incessant knocking. Severus had also cast a simple charm to alert him to foot traffic in the foyer. It was a small enough building that it wouldn't trigger too often, and at the moment, anything sounded preferable to accidentally walking out while she was there.

As such, he'd registered Hermione— Granger's departure earlier that morning, as well as when she'd returned and marched right up to his door and started knocking.

"Snape?" Her voice was only slightly muffled since he'd installed a listening charm as well. "Are you in? I'd like to speak with you about last night."

There's no way in hell we are speaking about last night. Deep down, he knew it really wasn't her fault that she happened to live in the same building, Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he'd betrayed himself. Sure, they'd had a few surprisingly pleasant run-ins over the course of a week. He'd comforted her a few times and she'd opened her mind to him on two separate occasions. Last night, they'd even managed to have quite an enjoyable evening from start to finish: dancing, drinks, disparaging the ministry, and the discussion of complex charm work. But somehow, all of that had ended up with his safe haven revealed.

Despite Hermione Granger's current work situation, she was still one of the most well-known and popular witches in the circles he found most troublesome to his peace of mind. Her knowing where he lived meant Potter would soon know where he lived, and there were only a few steps from there to most of Wizarding Britain. He didn't care if he was being paranoid, he hadn't survived both wars by not being immaculately private. Now, he was just hoping that Granger would simply believe he wasn't home instead of continuing to talk to him through the door. Damn Gryffindors.

No such luck.

"Maybe I'm just speaking to your door, but I have a feeling you're in there," Granger said, sounding contrite but also a little irritated. "Last night, I had a really…I'm just sorry for how it ended and wanted to make sure everything…oh, bloody hell, he's probably not even home. Err…well, just in case, please feel free to come up anytime, I'm on the top floor."

Finally, he heard her footsteps retreat, and his surveillance charm told him she'd gone up the stairs. He summoned himself a glass of water and sat down on his couch. Despite his best efforts not to, his mind hopped to the task of interpreting her words, puzzling over every possible meaning and seizing on the most likely ones. Within a minute, it dawned on him.

Somehow, she'd noticed his unconscious romantic impulse towards her and she was uncomfortable. She wanted to talk only to disabuse him of such notions, and likely set an expectation for normal, neighborly conduct going forward. And probably, she was after the books he'd promised her about wards. You got too riled up, Snivellus. One dance, a good chat, and you lay all your cards on the table. The proverbial cat was out of the bag.

He cursed himself. Her cat! He couldn't believe he hadn't recognized the animal. During his nearly two decades at Hogwarts, he'd come across many feline familiars…but still. As soon as he'd seen the ginger tomcat in Granger's arms, he was brought back to the night he had tried to capture Black at the Shrieking Shack and had instead ended up defending those idiotic children from Lupin. Despite the head trauma he'd sustained, he'd thought he had retained most of his memories from that night, but apparently not clearly enough. He would have to reexamine them in his Pensieve when he had the time.

Despite the pleas that had come through his door a moment ago, Severus determined he didn't need to have such a conversation with Granger. He could leave it all well enough alone without instruction. It was his prevailing nature after all. Perhaps, he would get those books to her at some point, but that was something to decide at another time. Right now, he needed to work.

He stalked over to his desk, clutching the post he'd received that morning. Despite her somewhat loquacious and meandering introduction the night before, the letter from Madam Grospinks was all business. To be honest, he was somewhat shocked he hadn't put her off completely. Apparently, she did see this as a bit of a pressing matter after all.

Dear Master Snape,

It was lovely to make your acquaintance last evening, and I feel that Master Malfoy did not steer me astray with the suggestion of your services. As you requested, I have included a detailed accounting of each of the items of interest that have been removed from the estate without my knowledge. Once you have familiarized yourself with the particulars of my situation, please do owl back to notify me as to whether you believe you can help. If so, do be sure to include a detailing of your rates, as I understand the importance of rewarding such work in a clear and direct fashion.

Sincerely, Miranda Grospinks.

Beneath was an extensive profile of each artifact, detailing when the item had been acquired as well as when it had gone missing. To no surprise, several of them were of Goblin-make and all were old enough that there was a high probability of them having a significantly dark magical signature.

Still looking at the list, he grabbed a quill and some parchment, as well as a pen and notebook. He scratched out a brief return message accepting the job. Tapping the parchment with his wand, the terms and conditions of his contract (which he'd predetermined quite some time ago) appeared, along with his rates. After addressing the outside, he tossed a bit of floo powder into his fireplace and sent the note off to the central owlery at the Ministry, from where it would be sent to Madam Grospinks. Then he got to work.

While his client had sent all of the information he'd required of her, he would need to read in between the lines in order to have any hope of locating the misplaced goods. He began his own list that included conjectures about going black market prices, the likely profiles of interested buyers or dealers, and even a guess about what magics the item might possess.

At some point during this process, Draco let himself into the flat. Snape kept working, not wanting to break his hard-won concentration until he made significant progress on his notes. The work did him good, allowing his mind to revel in what he was accustomed to: the dark arts and how they functioned in a society in denial of them.

When he finally placed his pen down with a satisfied sigh and looked up, Draco was nearly through with prepping a meal…whether lunch or dinner, Severus couldn't have guessed.

"Are you quite finished, uncle," Draco asked, setting a grilled sandwich and bowl of soup in front of him. He only used the childish and incorrect address for Severus when he wanted to appeal to his sentimental side. "I can tell by your face you haven't slept since I left last night. It's almost as if you need an assistant for your work."

Snape grunted, gladly tucking into the food. "Good thing I have you for such times, nephew."

Snatching the notebook, Draco leaned back in his chair. "So, it seems it was a good idea to attend last night. This looks promising."

"Quite," Snape said curtly. He knew what his godson was getting at, but he would have none of it. And certainly, he was not going to personally broach the subject. Besides, it's settled: I'm officially avoiding Granger.

For minutes, they ate in silence, the two of them locked in a game of chicken for who would speak next. It was a game that Snape always won, which was only to be expected since it was usually Draco who wanted to force matters into words.

After an indeterminable amount of time, Draco sighed heavily and set his spoon down. From his robes, he withdrew a familiar potion and set it down with a clack. The purple color of the phial of Dreamless Sleep was unmistakable.

"You know, I'm a good godson, so I'm going to give you a choice, Snape," he said pertly. "Either you take this right now and sleep through the night, or you tell me exactly what happened with Granger."

Severus glared at the impertinent young wizard. He knew that Snape avoided Dreamless Sleep like the plague, despite being in desperate need of it. It was effective at preventing dreams and nightmares for the most part, but it was also quite difficult to awake from. Even if he slept the full course, his head always felt a bit fuzzier than he liked. He'd given it up before the end of the first war.

He gave Draco a nasty smile. "Thank you, Draco," he said, his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that was as good of an indicator of his ire than anything else. "I suppose you can clean and close up on your own? There's a lad!"

Severus snatched the potion and drank it in a single swallow, wordlessly vanishing the phial before turning on his heel to disappear into his bedroom.

Draco grimaced at the retreating form of his godfather. The fact that he was even entertaining the little game was indication enough of his state of mind. Something had managed to shake the typically calm and collected veneer Severus Snape put forth.

Things had certainly not worked out the way Draco had intended, but he couldn't understand why. When he'd arrived at the basement flat after the Gala and found it to be empty, he'd assumed that Snape and Granger were out somewhere discussing the finer details of the work at hand. It just made too much sense for them to work together to not try to make it happen.

For Snape to take Dreamless Sleep, he must really have not wanted to talk about the events of the evening before. In truth, while Draco would have preferred direct answers, he'd come prepared to take his godfather's reaction in stride, whatever it may be. At least now, he knew for sure: there was more to the interaction between Snape and Granger than the question of their potential professional association.