A/N: I must admit, I adored writing this chapter. The team is all here now!
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.
Within days, Severus and Hermione fell into a steady routine of working together in the evenings, with the occasional morning meeting. He'd been concerned that first night when she'd finally slipped out of his flat around midnight, taking his potion journal with her, that every session would be as trying as that first one. The unexpected physical contact and her persistent emotional and mental openness had sapped his stores of self-restraint. He'd only barely managed to resist delving deeper into her thoughts, too unsure of what he would find there. Fortunately, their sessions since had been entirely less fraught and more focused on the work at hand. Severus found that this both pleased and frustrated him in equal measure.
Hermione disarmed him even when she wasn't doing such disruptive things as grabbing his hand. They'd be deeply wound in a discussion of potion theory or magical signatures, a thoroughly enjoyable, yet appropriate experience. Then his eyes would snag on hers or she'd smile particularly brightly. He'd find himself on the thinnest of leashes and yank back from the brink. If she noticed these moments, she gave no indication.
It almost helped having Draco around. Although suggestive elbows or unnecessary coded comments accompanied the young Malfoy, at least it externalized and diffused the conflict within Snape somewhat. He knew he could easily tow the line of professionalism while his godson was present. Perhaps with time, he'd grow accustomed to her charms.
And that's why, on the second week of their partnership, it was most unfortunate that Severus exited his bathroom clad only in a towel to find Hermione already sitting at his dining room table drinking a cup of tea. He froze in place, clutching where the towel was wrapped around his waist and thanking the Gods he'd even bothered with one at all today. His initial instinct was to rush to the safety of his bedroom, but that was quickly overridden by a righteous defiance. This is my home, damn it. She's the one trespassing, why should I be ashamed?
As usual, Hermione was intently reading, lost to the world as she absently bit her lip. It was a habit of hers he'd been incapable of ignoring while they worked, her curls growing damp in the potion fumes. She had yet to sense his presence and he decided to spite her for it. Silently charming his towel to stay securely on his hips, he crossed the room to retrieve a mug from the cupboard.
"Good Morning, Seve—" Hermione gasped as she finally looked up from her book. "Severus?"
"Good Morning, Hermione," he said cooly, turning to lean his hips back against the counter once he'd poured himself a cup of tea. He couldn't remember ever seeing her so red in the face before, and it warmed the cockles of his cruel heart. "Something the matter?"
To her credit, Hermione met his eyes, as defiant as ever, even though the fuchsia of her cheeks was hardly fading. "Not at all. I thought you might be out, or asleep, and I was just a bit over excited for today." Still, no outright apology, which infuriated him.
"No, no, come right in!" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not as if this is my private space or anything. Make yourself right at home."
Hermione slammed her book shut but didn't make a move away from the table. "Well, I suppose it's appropriate that we are finding some office space soon."
"Indeed."
They glared at each other.
"Aren't you going to put clothes on?" Hermione asked, sounding desperate. The tone intrigued him, but his spite won out over his curiosity.
"I think I'll enjoy my tea first, thank you."
They each stayed where they were, and he tried to appear as casual and confident as possible with only a towel and a teacup to maintain his modesty. After a moment, her gaze fell away from his. He felt a flash of childish victory over their staring contest until he realized where her eyes had gone.
Her gaze slid slowly up and down his body. It wasn't purposeful ogling, but all the same he felt exposed underneath her wandering. Her bottom lip was back between her teeth and Severus wondered if she knew she was even doing it. What the hell is going on? She was supposed to have scampered away by now. Instead, Hermione was very much there.
Severus followed her gaze on him, the power of it feeling almost like a physical touch, a lazy finger outlining him. He tensed as her eyes spanned to his left forearm where the scar of his faded Dark Mark still stood stark against his pale skin. He wasn't sure exactly what he feared at that moment, but he released a breath when her eyes traveled past it without interruption. As if it were just another patch of skin. Finally, her gaze met his again, and he was perturbed to find heat in her honey brown eyes. The flush of her earlier embarrassment had narrowed to two swipes of pleasing pink on her cheekbones.
She finally released her lower lip from its prison between her teeth, inhaling to say something when the door burst open.
"Rise and shine!" Draco said brightly, freezing in the doorway as he took in the scene before him. "Oh! Well, isn't this intimate!"
"I was just getting dressed," Severus said, trying to walk to his bedroom rather than sprint. "I'll be ready in five minutes. Draco, there's tea on the stove."
He slammed his door on Draco's chuckle, blessedly unable to hear whatever teasing and denial were happening between him and Hermione. Today was the first full day of working only on agency matters. It was sure to be a long one.
"I cannot impress upon you enough our vested interest in examining all Goblin-made antiquities." Fallybon, the goblin who handled much of Borgin & Burkes business with Gringotts said. "Any of the items you've described would be worthy of an official inspection."
The goblin looked expectantly at them, clearly upset they hadn't already located the artifacts. Hermione shook herself from her errant thoughts that kept wandering back to Snape's almost-naked body. She'd completely lost track of herself in his flat, and she wasn't much better now: stealing glances when she was sure he was looking elsewhere, only to find his eyes watching her watch him, expression unreadable. Luckily, Bill Weasley spoke up.
"This is really quite an extensive list of items," he said, looking at the master list of all the antiques that had been reported as stolen by their clients. "Are any of these officially reported to MLE as missing?"
"Only the ones highlighted in green," Hermione piped up, happy to contribute. "You'll also notice that those are the ones unattached to any claim of Goblin-make."
Bill shook his head. "Unsurprising, honestly. Probably trying to avoid the Ministry fines associated with processing reclamations."
"This is exactly why Gringotts advised against such fees," Fallybon grumbled under his breath.
"You mean to tell me that none of that fee goes to the Goblins?" Hermione asked, aggravated, but not entirely shocked.
"Fool girl," Ract said with a wheezing laugh, though from behind one of the cupcakes she'd brought to the shop, the insult possessed little venom. "Why do you think Fallybon is so familiar with us? He's here at least several times a month to examine or reclaim something."
Bill nodded. "It's a lot faster and cheaper for everyone directly involved to use back channels."
"Another brilliant example of our government's impressive capability," Severus drawled, speaking up for the first moment in some time. "Draco, what do you know of the initiative and who runs it?"
"Not much, but I can find out more. Elbin Drakwood is head of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures —" Hermione groaned, both at the wizard's name and his cursed department. "Familiar, Granger?"
"Drakwood puts on a good show of being tolerant, but if you ask me, it's the same old shit just with touchy-feely committees that make the witches and wizards on them feel good, regardless of whether material change is happening. At least, that was my impression any time my work at the Aurory brought me into contact with them."
"Drakwood is not popular around Gringotts." Fallybon confirmed, sneering at the name. "But I hardly think he'd care to hear the opinions of a being he only sees the need to regulate and control."
A thick power momentarily filled the room, making Hermione's ears feel as though they were about to pop. Fallybon's magic, she realized, though the goblin looked relatively stoic even as power sparked between his fingertips, singeing the list he still held. As quickly as it had come, it went away, along with the small tendrils of smoke.
Bill smiled at the others warmly. "Well, I think we have plenty of information at the moment to keep a lookout for these items if they make their way to the bank. What do you need from them, Bon?"
"If there's any possibility of locating any of the artifacts, I'd certainly like to take a look at them before they are lost again," he shot a glare at the shopkeepers. "Perhaps you two should consider having a goblin on staff if you can't see through damned wizard glamours."
"You volunteering?" Ract demanded, bawdily. "That chit of an accountant over there will tell you she's draining the last of our funds for her own salary, so can't say we could offer you much."
Rolling his eyes at his partner, Borgin bent to shake Fallybon's hand. "We'll make sure to call for you at the slightest indication we need your expertise."
As Bill and Fallybon left the shop, Hermione glared over at Caractacus. "I'm not even charging that much! There's definitely some work on your business model to be done, but you're hardly destitute at present."
"50 galleons a day is hardly a pitance," Burke began, clearly revving up for a more explosive rant, but Hermione had stopped listening, her blood running cold as she comprehended his words.
As the chill inside her slowly turned into seething fury, her mind scrabbled for some reasonable explanation. But no matter how she cut it, that amount could certainly not be explained by any normal tax she knew about.
"Are you truly paying 50?"she asked as politely
"Did I stutter!?" Burke screamed.
"Ract!" Borgin admonished. "There's no need to be so rude. We can afford it for the short while Miss Granger's services are needed."
She was overcome with rage that froze her to the spot. Somehow, she'd been fooled again by the Ministry. She should have known better, but something about Hemlocke and his cluttered office had seemed so…inept that she'd let her guard down. She wanted to break something.
Suddenly, black eyes were in front of hers.
"Hermione?"
"My rate is only 25 per day," she muttered, but it was loud enough for the others to hear as well. Draco blew out a shaky, sympathetic laugh. Ract only sounded slightly mollified, grumbling about how it was still too much. Cassius started to explain.
"50 is what we pay to the—"
Severus and Hermione both raised a hand in understanding and the proprietor stopped talking. Snape examined her for a moment, before one of his eyebrows raised smugly.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who should be charging more," he said, smirking. His wry little barb seemed to steady her slightly, and she turned a brilliant smile to Borgin and Burke.
"Do you have any parchment handy," she asked in a syrupy sweet voice. "I need to send a Howler."
"I'll do you one better," Caractacus started, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "A cursed envelope with teeth, it'll—"
Hermione was game to listen, but Draco interrupted before Burke could delve deeper into the devious possibilities. "No, no! We've been through this already, Granger. No burning bridges. No Howlers, certainly no cursed objects. You will find it in your damned Gryffindor heart to conduct yourself with some subtlety!"
Hermione's eyes flashed wide in rage and she gripped her wand tightly, unsure of whether she wanted to scream at Malfoy or simply hex him. Why not both?
But a firm hand gripped her shoulder and she was ready to redirect her anger towards Severus when he spoke.
"Ract, Cassius, do you have any objects in need of annihilation?"
"She's almost tolerable when she's in a snit," Ract muttered to Severus as they watched Hermione and Draco take turns obliterating a series of cursed vases in the back alleyway. Cassius captured any stray enchantments in an even more cursed oil lamp. "When she's not trying to pretend she isn't furious."
Severus was prone to agree, though the second comment made him glance at the shop owner curiously.
"Have you noticed her upset at work?" He couldn't really imagine it, although he'd seen her volatile emotions at play plenty often. She just always seemed so content with her matrices.
"Well, no, but sometimes when she walks past the more sensitive objects in the shop, she triggers them," he said thoughtfully, then grimaced. "And let's be honest, Sev. The way she goes about the work at all is a bit disturbed. Reminds me of Cassius…suspiciously cheerful."
Severus chuckled. "Well, brilliance and madness are hardly uncommon bedfellows." As soon as he said it, he regretted his wording as the older wizard leaned closer.
"And how about the two of you? Been sharing any beds?" The comment was accompanied by a somewhat painful elbow to the ribs.
Severus glared sullenly. "How crass. She's my business partner, nothing more."
His efforts did nothing to discourage the glint in Burke's eyes as he glanced over again to where Borgin was helping Hermione relieve her fit of pique. "I remember those days."
"Spare me the details, Ract," he growled. Hermione's cheeks were flushed as her grunts of angered effort slowly became more valiant. She and Draco were soon laughing, making a game out of the exercise by launching the vases into the air for the other to shoot at. Severus realized that Burke's eyes were on him again and decided to shift the conversation to a safer topic.
"Where can I find Mundungus Fletcher?"
"Where can't you?" Ract said with disdain. "I'd do anything to never see that louse again. Unfortunately, he brings in plenty of business."
"I don't doubt it," Severus said. "He doesn't strike me as the type to sell things for less than their true worth."
Burke laughed in a hacking sort of way. "There's absolutely no way that Dung knew what those objects really were. If this was a case of someone trying to dress up regular finery as goblin-made, now, he'd be your prime suspect. But he'd never try to get less when he could get more. He's normally easy to find about the Wyvern late at night—has to spend his money somewhere, you know."
Severus quietly thanked Burke and watched Hermione obliterate several more vases before he recalled her and Draco. They had many tasks to accomplish today while the three of them were together. As they pushed back out onto the street, he cast an appraising look over Hermione.
"Better?" he asked simply. She had her color back at least. He'd watched it drain from her face at the revelation of her stolen wages. Now, she glanced back at him, a slight pout to her lips.
"Well, it's not the same as sending a Howler, but I'll survive for now," she said. "I'll have to figure out how to go about my business without Hemlocke though."
"Just do it on your own," Draco said simply. "Or better yet, do it as a part of this venture."
Snape was about to argue against such a thing out of habit (many of Draco's suggestions warranted a swift and direct push back) but he realized it was far from preposterous. "Actually, that may solve a bit of your ethics problem, Miss Granger."
However, he realized she was no longer listening as she ran forward to greet a witch standing outside of Monkshood. She was blonde and vaguely recognizable as the bubbly Gryffindor student Lavender Brown, but Severus gritted his teeth against a gasp as she turned to face them properly. Deep scars arced across one side of her face, spanning from her hairline all the way down her neck and into her robes. Time had turned them white, but he imagined it had taken them years to heal.
He heard Draco take an audible inhale beside him, and imagined they were both thinking of the monster who'd left the marks. As deep as her scars were, it was truly a miracle that Brown had made it out alive. Fenrir Greyback had been brutal even by Death Eater standards. His commitment to the Dark Lord had been more of a pragmatic technicality than anything else. Even without Voldemort's permission and power, Greyback would have found a way to delight in death and physical destruction all on his own. A shiver ran down Severus's spine as he felt a surge of unexpected gratitude for his own good fortune given his history of run-ins with werewolves.
Hermione was speaking to her in a low-tone as they approached, and he watched as the blonde witch's eyes widened at him. Internally, he cursed and resigned himself to yet another hasty rejection from a past-student. He was shocked when Brown stepped forward to grasp his hands passionately, happy tears sparkling in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
"My apologies if this is unprofessional, Professor," she said ardently. "But I would be remiss if I didn't take this opportunity to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your work in synthesizing Wolfsbane for shelf-stable distribution single handedly made my life liveable again…I…before that, well…thank you!"
He was stunned by her gratitude. His contribution to the Wolfsbane development was not very well-known, but that was simply the way of most potion patents. Lycanthropy was rare enough, and still shrouded in such stigma and secrecy, that the press around the development had been relatively quiet. Of course, that wouldn't be the case for someone so directly affected, but given his proclivity for privacy, he'd yet to meet any of his potential patients.
"You're more than welcome, Ms. Brown," he managed to say once he came back to himself. "I must confess, I did not know about your lasting condition, but I am very pleased to hear that you have found comfort in the potion."
"Let's get a table, shall we?" Draco said smoothly as the werewolf stepped back and relinquished Severus's hands once again. Her smile had notably more teeth as she turned it on Malfoy, but she still followed him inside the restaurant, leaving Snape to look at Granger.
She was grinning widely at him, clearly having predicted what her fellow Gryffindor's reaction would be.
"Unused to the celebration of your work, I see," she said slyly. "You've been looking for job candidates in all the wrong places."
Severus scowled at her, hoping none of the embarrassment he felt showed in his face. "I hardly look for such praise, Granger."
"Well, don't let it get you in a state," Hermione whispered as she passed by him to enter the cafe. "Some compliments are deserved."
Severus wanted nothing more than to yank her back and argue with her, about the point she'd made, about her unnecessary cheek, about the color of the sky— but she'd already made it into the restaurant. Scowling even more deeply, he pushed in after her.
The decision to bring Lavender into the fold was already paying off more than Hermione could have expected. Despite the rough start to her day with a half-naked Snape, followed by the ugly realization of the gauged rates the Ministry was charging clients for her services, she'd been looking forward to this meeting. Since first running into her, she had met with Lavender a few times. In each instance, Hermione's conviction that she'd be a great addition to the odd little team had grown stronger.
In the past decade, Lavender had grown into a very charming and very funny woman. After filling each other in on the larger movements of their lives in the years since the war, Lavender had been quick to admit she was shocked that Hermione wanted anything to do with her, given their differences in school. Hermione had admitted to much the same and pointed out they were both a far cry from the girls they'd been back then. What had been stark incompatibility in their youth now felt more like complementary contrasts in their personalities.
But even with their budding friendship, Hermione could not have predicted how welcome the injection of a little more Gryffindor brashness would be. Despite himself, Severus was obviously touched by Lavender's initial outburst and was doing his best to appear stoic as he looked over the menu. However, Hermione's attention was quickly drawn to the interaction between Lavender and Draco.
Back in school, it had been compulsory for their houses to hold each other in near-constant contempt. Even still, Lavender had found a way to gossip about Draco's undeniable good looks in the girl's dormitory. Much of that had come to an end as fighting between the factions had intensified in their later years at school. It was presently quite apparent that Lavender had no such qualms any longer about appreciating Draco's beauty. However, her approach with men had clearly evolved far past giggles and heart-shaped notes, and had become something much sleeker.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Lavender asked, her voice lowering seductively. "Hermione and Professor Snape are quite accomplished in their own right. And you…if I recall, are just as much of a rich party boy as you ever were."
Hermione held back her own giggle as she watched Draco's eyes widen just barely before they narrowed to match Lavender's heavy lidded expression. "Well, every venture needs a piggy bank, don't they?"
Lavender made a single noise in her throat that showed her satisfaction that he'd play along with whatever games she threw his way, at least in words.
Hermione took the opportunity to bring them all back to the matter at hand, outlining once again what they were hoping to accomplish with a new hire. After they ordered their food, Snape seemed to have come back to himself and interjected with a few incisive questions. Lavender's answers were satisfactory enough, but what Hermione was hoping to put on display was the woman's knack for reading people and responding in exactly the way that would further their interaction in the direction she wanted it to go. When she spoke to Severus, Lavender was polite and direct; when she answered Hermione, her voice flowed naturally and her words were open; and when she spoke to Draco, her words oozed with much more meaning than could ever be found in a dictionary. All the while, each iteration was doubtlessly genuine. There was a congruence between each of her modes, even while watching all of them play out at once.
Eventually, Lavender excused herself to the restroom, giving them the opportunity to discuss.
"Well?" Hermione prompted, barely able to hold back her excited smile at how well Lavender had demonstrated her finer skills during their meal. "I think we should hire her right now."
"I concur," Severus said, no sign of a scowl anywhere on his face. "She has the social skills you and I desperately lack."
Hermione was about to begrudgingly agree when Draco spoke up.
"I don't know," Draco said warily. Hermione and Severus both turned shocked looks towards him. "I can't get a read on her."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, nearly bursting into laughter when she realized Snape possessed an identical dubious expression.
"Draco, you've simply met your match in charm," Severus drawled. "I'd have thought you to be heartened by the prospect."
"He's right," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Have you just gotten too used to being the only disarming one around?"
A faint blush appeared on Draco's high cheek bones as he scowled down into his glass of juice. Hermione did her best to hold back laughter, stealing a glance towards Severus who's eyes were equally warm.
"She's just different from how I remember her," Draco admitted. Lavender approached their table from the bathrooms again, holding a sly finger to her lips as Hermione opened her mouth to greet her. Unaware, Draco continued. "I suppose I don't have any true complaints. I just didn't think I'd be in for such a dressing down when I come to the office. Usually, that's the main service I provide."
By this point Lavender stood directly behind the blond wizard, and bent down to speak directly into his ear. "Well, I'm sure we can arrange plenty of dressing down for the both of us. Don't you worry, Malfoy."
Severus coughed over a stifled laugh and Hermione snickered in surprise at Lavender's brazen way. Despite initially freezing in place and the pink that permeated his pale face, Draco summoned his most obsequious smile and offered Lavender his hand.
"Then I'll be more than happy to be in your capable hands, Miss Brown. Welcome to the team."
Although she smiled in congratulation, Hermione found it much more difficult to look at Severus's face in the flirtatious tension of Lavender and Draco's teasing.