A/N: Just a little meeting of the minds before they get down to business! Thank you for the support!
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.
The end of the day couldn't come soon enough. Hermione had spent the morning in a state of excitable distraction, constantly daydreaming about what her evening would hold while she continued to file through the records at Borgin and Burkes. She kept having to force her focus back to the task at hand, and had become rather jumpy as a result. At one point, she'd shrieked when a haunted grandfather clock tolled the hour, causing a number of other antiques to wake up and add to the ruckus. Caractacus had seized upon the opportunity to berate her and throw her out for lunch while he and Cassius calmed down the store again. Cassius had shrugged congenially and passed Hermione a galleon for her troubles.
"Do you need anything while I'm out?" she asked the gentler owner as she surreptitiously pocketed the coin. "Does…does he have a favorite snack or drink or…anything that'll smooth things out?"
"Between you and me, he actually likes any type of cake with berries," Borgin whispered while Burke had his back turned, warring against a particularly loud cursed hat rack. "He never buys it for himself, and won't even accept it from me except on holidays, but if it's just around…"
"I've got you," Hermione said in a low tone, winking as she went.
It was a gray day, but very bright as the sun stayed hidden behind refracting clouds. Rather enjoying the walk about, Hermione made for the sausage roll stand that Draco had taken her to. He may be a prat, but that didn't reflect on his good taste in street food.
She wondered idly if she'd ever get used to his company. If last night had been any indication, she had the feeling she'd be seeing much more of the young Master Malfoy. Her old nemesis was much more tolerable in the context of Snape, but perhaps that was because he seemed to be the only person familiar enough to ruffle Severus and get away with it. It cast her taciturn neighbor in a rather avuncular light that made him much less intimidating. It was ironic that this special treatment that had infuriated her while at Hogwarts now seemed to humanize both of the men.
Biting into the steaming pastry, she grinned as she stepped across the cobblestones. It was wild to her that this was the same Diagon Alley in which she'd first shopped for her school supplies so many years ago. Her parents had clutched her close as every sight of an increasingly magical shop had her on the edge of a sprint. Many of the stores had remained the same, but plenty more had updated or changed entirely since that time. However, perhaps the biggest change was her. This was the world she'd lived in since that day, and even though she could still remember that initial wonder, sometimes she had to remind herself of it.
Something that had improved since her first visit to Diagon Alley was the selection of sweets shops. Sugarplum's had long ago relinquished their monopoly over the dessert selection in town as several other confectioners made a name for themselves. Hermione beat a path to her favorite among them with hopes of finding a cake worthy of soothing her splenetic employer's ire for the rest of the afternoon.
As usual, Rhubarb's Bakery was in the swing of heavy business when Hermione pushed through the doors. She inhaled the delightful scent of browned butter and sweet vanilla while she took her place in line, casting her eyes to the display case. Within moments she spotted a delectably iced vanilla and raspberry number that would work nicely, and Hermione applied her mind to thinking of other treats she might purchase.
Does Severus like sweets? He certainly didn't seem the type, but over the past two weeks, she'd learned so many things that didn't exactly fit with her original understanding of the man. Perhaps some regular croissants or cardamom knots would do the trick. If Draco kept good on his promise of showing up, she was fairly sure he'd enjoy it either way.
She rolled her eyes at herself. All her years at the Aurory, they would have been delighted if all she'd wanted to accomplish was bringing in some pastries to gladden her coworkers. She could hardly imagine Severus, or even Draco for that matter, trying to relegate her to catering meetings. In fact, she could already imagine the scowl Snape would show in the face of such an offering. I'm definitely getting them in that case.
By the time there was only one customer in front her, Hermione had mentally finalized her order of one berry cake and a smattering of other sweet and savory pastries. She quickly became aware of the conversation between the witch in front of her and the cashier.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the young cashier said, looking a bit stricken. "But we aren't hiring at present."
"Don't call me ma'am," said the witch in front of her indignantly. "I may be scarred, but I'm hardly old enough to be your auntie. Just a pumpkin pasty in that case."
Hermione would know that voice anywhere. It had lilted and tittered through her dorm room every single morning for years.
"Lavender?" she asked, stepping up beside her old Gryffindor roommate as she settled up. Her face was contorted into a scowl that would rival Snape's.
"Hermione!" Suddenly, all contempt was gone from Lavender's face, replaced with her insipidly coy smile. "How nice to see you!"
Hermione's eyes unconsciously flashed down to the grievous scars that mottled Lavender's neck for a moment before coming back up to her eyes to smile back.
"It's good to see you too," Hermione said genuinely. She and Lavender had never been friends, but Hermione had wondered about her from time to time. The last she'd really seen of her old roommate, she'd been healing from Fenrir Greyback's attack during the Final Battle. "Hold up a moment?"
Looking more than a bit unsure, Lavender overcompensated with another saccharin smile and an emphatic nod. Turning to place her order, Hermione nearly chuckled at how she used to be so intimidated by the other witch. At the time, she'd appeared to have possessed all of the feminine wiles that Hermione so desperately lacked. And of course, nothing positive had come over their unspoken competition over Ron. So silly in retrospect. Now, she could see Lavender for what she really was: just another woman trying to make her way in the world and using any tools at her disposal to do so.
Once they both had their pastries, they settled at a table by the window. As Lavender unwrapped her pastie, she cast a wary look at Hermione.
"Aren't you going to eat something too?" It was more a demand than a question, and Hermione decided it would be better to abide by it than any other option. She brandished the chocolate croissant.
"Care to split?" It was a gamble, but Hermione had learned quite a bit more about interacting with other women since she'd last interacted with Lavender. She was immensely relieved when the other witch grinned and offered her half of the pumpkin pastie in exchange.
With a quiet sigh of relief, Hermione continued. "It's been a long time. How are you?"
Lavender quirked an eyebrow. "Hermione, I might not be as smart as you, but even I know you overheard that back there." Taking a bite of the croissant, she delicately dabbed her mouth with a napkin and then placed her hands on the table in front of her. "Things have been…well, about what you might expect for a lady werewolf. Work is hard to keep because I'm apparently a bitch for two weeks out of the month, and they usually aren't concurrent."
Hermione hardly managed to keep her mouth from dropping open. She hadn't known for certain that Lavender had fallen to lycanthropy. Regular employment would be nearly impossible with such an affliction. How had Remus ever managed before coming to Hogwarts, anyhow?
"Oh, don't look so stunned," Lavender said. "It's actually much easier to manage now that they can mass produce Wolfsbane. But believe me, the first few years were hell— potions was never my subject, as you well know. So, still at the Aurory?"
Hermione was thankful for her quick mind, otherwise she would not have fared so well in the face of this veritable onslaught of new information. "Actually, no. I left about half a year back. Doing some freelancing of sorts now."
It was Lavender's turn to appear surprised. "But Harry and Ron are still there, yes?" As Hermione nodded and she was perturbed to see that Lavender looked impressed. "Well…finally! Good for you! I mean, don't get me wrong. I used to wish you would leave their sides for a completely different reason. But after everything that happened…" a dark look crossed her face before she put her smile back together. "Let's just say I looked back and realized where the power of your trio actually lay."
"Thank you, Lavender," Hermione said, still trying to catch up to what was happening. "I think that's actually the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Lavender shrugged, ripping her pumpkin pastie in two and handing half to Hermione. "Men ain't shit," she said bluntly. "Took me turning into a literal monster to realize it, but there you are."
Hermione's mind boggled at all of the stories that must be lurking under the surface of that comment, but she hadn't the time to explore it fully.
"Hear, hear." Hermione said. "Listen… Lavender, I have to return to the shop I'm working at soon, but I have the feeling we might benefit greatly from getting to know each other again. How can I contact you?"
Lavender produced a small business card that boasted her as a retailer of Madame Fisk's Domestic Charms in a Bottle. "Ignore the business, it was a racket I joined trying to work from home, but the address is good, and I'm on the Floo network." She paused, sizing Hermione up again. "I've got a kid, but she's at her grandparents' on most weekdays. By the way, where are you working these days?"
Hermione winced slightly. She'd yet to share her employment news with anyone outside of the Weasley/Potter circuit, and even they didn't know she'd started working in Knockturn Alley.
"Today, it's Borgin and Burke's,"
"Merlin's whiskers! Well, now I've certainly got to hear the full story about that!" Lavender's eyes glowed with a familiar mirth: the expression of a practiced gossip at the earliest hint of blood. Hermione pulled out her own card, one she'd made as soon as she'd cut ties with the Ministry. Erroneously, the thought that she was also sharing Severus Snape's general address with her former roommate spiked her heart rate dangerously.
As Hermione departed the store with two large boxes of confections, she decided that she would actually make a real effort to reconnect…or connect for the first time with Lavender. She had to admit, she'd felt a little sorry for her old roommate, but she could tell the other witch would hardly want her sympathies. This new version of Lavender was somehow more open than she'd been before the war. There was an earthiness to her now and it seemed she'd finally admitted her cutesy bimbo act was just that, at least to herself. The development greatly appealed to Hermione.
She was welcomed back to Borgin and Burkes with a hearty string of further admonishments from Caractacus. The man certainly had a creative vocabulary, but she was beginning to see how most of it was a self-indulgent type of crude poetry, rather than evidence of actual contempt.
This was evidenced by the fact that the man fell silent as she casually opened the cake box and served out three large pieces. When she offered a plate, he snatched it away, his scowl hilariously at odds with the artful dessert. He marched off towards the office, leaving Cassius to smirk knowingly at her before he followed his partner, no doubt likely to offer him his own piece just to keep him in these unusually high spirits.
How did I end up buying sweets to appease multiple Slytherin men? She supposed it was as telling of their nature as hers anyhow—really, who'd have guessed that the way to Caractacus Burke's good side was through sugar. Licking a dab of errant frosting off of her finger, Hermione once again wondered if Severus would respond similarly to the pastries she'd gotten. Realizing the silliness of that thought, she settled back into her work with renewed vigor. Her little outing had done her a world of good.
Before she knew it, the windows began to darken. Although winter was certainly not her favorite season, Hermione did at times find the shortened days a bit mystical and she always appreciated the extra encouragement to curl up by the fire with a good book. She didn't know exactly what lay in store for her at Severus's flat, but was willing to bet it wouldn't be nearly as cozy. Regardless, she was buzzing with excitement by the time she made it home. To her surprise, the wards were different. She could still sense their magical presence, but she didn't have to focus at all in order to see through them. She knocked on the door and it swung inwards immediately at her touch.
"Granger! What have you got there?"
Draco was already seated at the dining table, lounging and languid as ever. It was enough to make her scowl out of habit, but Hermione managed a smirk instead.
"I was at Rhubarb's earlier and picked up some things," she said, handing him the box before hanging up her cloak and slipping her boots off. "Did you know that Caractacus Burke has a soft spot for cake with berries?"
Draco, who had selected a hazelnut and chocolate croissant, raised his eyebrows drastically. "Don't tell me you're just doing coffee runs for those two—" he shivered dramatically. Hermione let her original scowl alight on her face.
"Oh, how very evolved of you, Malfoy." Wizarding culture was always a bit behind the times on public acceptance of alternative lifestyles, but that was really no excuse. "Quite mature."
Draco looked taken aback and then cackled. "Homosexuality is hardly the problem, Granger. It's that they are two of the creepiest blokes I know. The thought of them being romantic with anyone…more nightmarish than half of their inventory if you ask me."
"Oh," Hermione said, sitting down at the table and selecting a currant bun. She was relieved to hear that Draco hadn't simply traded one form of bigotry for another. "Well, I suppose they are a bit off-putting, but I actually think it's kind of adorable."
A voice came from the far corner of the room that simultaneously made Hermione jump and recall exactly why she might personally think the odd couple was cute.
"If we could refrain from talking about the after-hours activities of Ract and Cass," Severus said, looming beside what she assumed must be his bedroom door. "I'd be most thankful."
Hermione was about to point out, somewhat childishly, that Draco had been the one to start it, but her old classmate spoke first.
"Granger brought snacks," he said proffering the box. "Already beating you out as my favorite colleague, Snape. I think you'll have to step up your offerings."
Severus scoffed as he approached them and Hermione tried her best not to stare as he examined the contents of the bakery box. She'd curse herself later for this ridiculous level of interest in something so frivolous, but at the moment she was too intent on seeing if he would accept a pastry. She'd realized earlier in one of her mindless meanderings that she really couldn't remember ever having seen Severus Snape eat. She'd spent six years at daily meals with the man, but the only images she could pull forth were of him stabbing at his plate aimlessly and pushing food around, or glaring at everyone else in the Great Hall.
"Hardly necessary," he said, raising a dubious eyebrow at her. To her surely misplaced delight (honestly, what is wrong with me?), her erstwhile Potions teacher selected the cardamom knot that she had purchased with him in mind.
"My apologies, Granger, the man hasn't worked with anyone besides me for years, and even before that it was Death Eaters and Hogwarts Professors, neither of which likely shared treats with him despite his charms—"
"Thank you, Hermione," Severus interrupted, glaring at Draco before taking a bite out of the cardamom knot. She felt a little thrill run through her at his use of her name and smiled.
"The pleasure is mine," Hermione said. "It won't be a regular thing, but I thought our first work session warranted it."
"Indeed. Tea?" He was already moving towards the kettle that Hermione hadn't noticed on the hob.
"Of course," she said.
Within a few minutes, they each had a steaming cup and were ready to begin. Hermione had a sudden flash of anxious anticipation as it was finally sinking in that this was a real thing.
"Well, first things first," Draco said, conjuring a scroll of parchment and pressing it flat on the table between them. "I believe an actual contract is in order. Everything on here so far is standard, but if you'll each lay your wands atop of it, it's charmed to pick up on the conversations and will update to reflect your specifications."
Hermione tentatively placed her vine wand on the parchment as Severus did the same. They rolled together in the center and a small spark emitted from where they connected, making her jump.
"Well, that was odd," Draco said, and they both looked to Severus who was glaring at the wands. Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen two wands respond like that but she was immediately reminded of the wild magic that had barreled between them the night before. Her cheeks warming slightly, she glanced up to find Severus's eyes on hers, his expression unreadable.
"Shall we begin?" he asked, clearly not wanting to address either incident of unintended power between them.
She nodded, more than happy to follow suit, though from the corner of her eye, she saw Draco leering in such a way that told her he remembered their lunch conversation from the other day. If Severus noticed, he thankfully gave no indication as he continued on.
"I know we've discussed my plans here and there, but there are a few things that I want to make exceptionally clear before we continue forward. Number one: This is an experiment and, as such, needs to remain somewhat flexible. I have many designs on what this little agency could be, and I'm sure you do as well. But as such a thing is rather untested…I am loath to constrain or limit the potential of this endeavor. However, I would like to outline for you what I see as the ultimate purpose we are working towards. After doing so, I'd like to hear your perspectives and if I've missed anything. Amenable?"
Hermione nodded, biting back a smile at how exacting he could be when he was serious. She'd recently admitted to herself that she enjoyed his snarky wit, at least when she wasn't the target of it. But this solemn gravitas was what had told her they would work well together. He didn't mince words about the important things.
"As you well know, there are curious gaps in our justice system. The Ministry, though not as blatantly corrupt as years past, is headed by Magical Law Enforcement, second only to the Minister, who is at best a figurehead. MLE certainly encompasses more roles than many policing bodies in other governments, and there is a lot of potential for abuse. Everything I have seen and everything you have confirmed for me with your own experience indicates a hyperfixation on punitive measures, while the preventative and restorative possibilities are ignored or actively shirked. And yet, even the punitive appears lacking, mainly from a deep misunderstanding of the Dark Arts, malignant magic, and the variety of reasons an individual might use either."
Severus paused, a look of surprise quickly melting into a smirk and Hermione realized too late that she had raised her hand in the air, much as she would have when she was his student. Unlike their time at Hogwarts, however, he actually called on her.
"Miss Granger?" He sneered the words sarcastically.
"Sorry, force of habit, I suppose," Hermione said, running the hand through her curls to gather her wits. "You said Dark Arts and malignant magic as if they are separate designations, and I was hoping you could explain further."
"Oh, we'll be here forever," Draco muttered, shooting a conspiratorial grin at her. "It's one of his favorite rants."
"Well, it's an astoundingly ill-covered subject, as evidenced by Miss Granger's question. If she doesn't know, what do you think the idiots running the wizarding world grasp?"
"Hermione," she corrected, distracted by his veiled compliment. To her surprise, she was rewarded with a smile. It was small, but a smile nonetheless.
"Force of habit," Severus said before launching into his actual answer. "I know your grasp of the English language is such that you should understand malignant magic refers to works with harm as the primary intent or a very predictable side effect. So I will assume your interest is in what I mean when I say Dark Arts." Hermione nodded in confirmation. "My frustration with these labels are that they are often divorced from how the magic in question actually works and everything to do with impact, which I would argue is always tainted by perspective. Despite the unfortunate naming of our Hogwarts Defense subject, the most pure definition of the term "Dark Arts" has little to do with causing harm and everything to do with the intent, emotions, and power at play. The Light Arts, conversely, are simple, requiring only focus, the correct wand movement, and the right words. To take an extreme example, you can practice Wingardium Leviosa until the cows come home and the only thing you will get better at is Wingardium Leviosa. It will not change your relationship to magic, your soul, or other people. However, something like the Imperious Curse demands much of the caster - they must truly wish to control the actions and thoughts of another, and their magical levels will take a significant hit from the power required to do so. Simultaneously, if one were to repeatedly practice it, they would find their ability steadily growing, not only in that particular working, but in the general realm of domination and psychic casting. They might even find their non-magical manipulation skills improving."
Hermione sipped her tea as she considered. It actually made a lot of sense now that she considered it. She'd known that people like Voldemort and his followers were after greater magical power, but such things were usually discussed with eye rolls and hand waving, no one knowledgeable enough about it to actually explain how they'd accomplished it. As she thought back to the times that she'd seen Unforgivables performed in the course of the war or even during her time at the Aurory, she'd noticed something of a hollowness around the caster. At the time, her mind had simply brushed it off as the effects of "dark magic" – a definition that now seemed woefully inexact– but thinking on it now, she could see it for what it had been: hunger.
"Is this why you always wanted the Defense position?" she asked before she could think better of it.
"Perhaps," he said in a bored tone. "But that is hardly important now. What you need to understand is that there is malignant magic that shares more magical anatomy with the Light Arts, and there are positive spells that could only ever be considered as demanding as the Dark Arts…which I would prefer to call the Deep Arts. And for that matter there are malignant spells in both that can be used to positive ends, and vice versa."
"Oh… the Patronus Charm!" she asked, suddenly seeing how differently skewed her understanding of magic was. "It requires emotion, takes a lot of power, and you are made stronger for practicing it over the long term."
"Precisely," he said with another small smile that twisted Hermione's heart. Grow up, Granger, you're no teacher's pet anymore. "I'm sure we can discuss this at length another time, but to my original point, the vast majority of our society has a biased and limited comprehension of magical theory. And where there is ignorance and confusion, there is a weakness ready to be exploited by the next maniacal opportunist who becomes addicted to power and those damaged enough to crave his presence."
Hermione glanced at Draco, who's lazy expression had grown just the smallest amount strained, but it was evident this was a sentiment he'd heard many times before from his godfather. Snape continued.
"I have attempted to assist the Aurory and even some of the smaller branches of MLE, or at the very least offer my expertise for the sake of training and have been met with resistance every single time. I do not know where this rejection stems from, it could be purposeful or simply neglectful, but either way, I have watched MLE botch more than one investigation because of their ignorance. Whatever this agency can become, it will never replace the Ministry's largest department. At the very least, I hope we can do right by our clients in the matters they feel uncomfortable bringing to the Aurory. But I must confess, my sights are also set in giving the Ministry a wake-up call. To let them know that what they blunder at can be achieved with the right mindset and methods."
Hermione stared at him, lost in the eddies of her whirling thoughts. There was so much potential here. She knew the projected statistics of how many crimes went unreported. She'd even conducted several surveys about how to make the Aurory more accessible that had been promptly dismissed by her supervising officers. Even the times she'd been able to make positive connections in the field with civilians, their willingness to share was dubious. Many still remembered the great fluctuations of the war, when MLE became a puppet for Voldemort's agenda. The post-war government had tried their best to paper over the wrongs of the past, making it clear that something like that would never happen again. But, as reactionary as ever, they'd simultaneously increased security around the flow of information, completely obliterating any transparency that would help the situation.
"You've broken her, Snape," Draco whispered.
Hermione shook herself, realizing she'd been staring directly into Severus's black eyes as she thought. Don't lose hold of yourself, Hermione, not now!
"Sorry, I was just thinking—"
"Do not apologize for such a thing," Severus said sternly. "Though, we've now arrived at an ideal moment for you to share such thoughts."
"I concur with everything," she said in a rush. "I know you've already come to this conclusion, but I have hundreds of experiences from my time in MLE that illustrate exactly what you are talking about, and much more." Dark memories rushed her, but she persevered on, needing to broach the topic. "The treatment of suspects and general citizenry is a deep concern I have. There were things I tried to do to make it better, but it's rather a systemic problem. Even with Aurors who have the best intentions, some of the protocols…" she trailed off, requiring all of her focus to reinforce the walls around memories that wouldn't serve the conversation. "Well, let's just say there's no getting out of it without an undue burden on any person who comes in contact with an investigation, no matter what role they hold to the incident in question." He'd once again perfectly articulated something she'd struggled to elucidate to her colleagues for years. The myriad tangential ideas that filled her mind was all the indication she needed about how she felt about his plans. "Either of the possible outcomes you describe and anything in between is an ideal that I've been reaching towards, long before I ran into you at the Ministry."