—————H—————

Hermione stared out the window and watched as the rain poured down the pane. There wasn't any work to do in the greenhouses, and impervious or umbrella charms wouldn't hold up to the summer storm they were experiencing. So, as she did on her forced days off, she studied.

She was surrounded by her advanced texts on Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and Runes in the little nook by the window. And, of course, Severus' textbook. She had probably studied that the most, to the point Slughorn would preen over what a great pupil she was and wonder how he'd overlooked her. Not that she cared; Hermione was well past wanting the approval of her teachers. Severus was gone, and while he wasn't her whole world, he had been a large part of it. She'd kept in touch with Sirius and Remus, sporadically with Lily, who only spoke of a mystery beau, but it wasn't the same. She wondered if she would have been this detached during her last year at Hogwarts if she had stayed in her previous era. The first three years had been fraught with trouble, and she doubted very much the last four would have been any different.

"Emonee," Oliver's little voice called from the hallway. "Emonee pay!" he squealed as he came into her room with two stuffed toys.

She smiled, picking up her wand from beside her and making his stuffed bunny spring out of his hand and dance around the room. He squealed, clapping his pudgy little hands.

Oliver, not quite a year and a half, was one of the highlights of coming back to the McGonagalls' home. He was also a reminder of how alone she was. It had occurred to her upon returning that she had actually spent less than a year of her life with the couple. And while they still welcomed her home warmly and treated her like family, it was more obvious without Severus there to draw her attention that she didn't quite fit in.

"Ollie, leave Hermione alone, sweetie," Delia said in a tired voice before coming into the room.

She was still lovely, but there were fresh lines around her eyes, and her posture was a bit more worn down than it had been three years ago. But there was also a bliss about Delia that Hermione couldn't deny.

"It's quite alright, I don't mind," she insisted.

Delia scooped up Oliver, who promptly fell silent and tried to squirm out of her arms. Delia huffed, trying to get a better hold on her wiggling toddler. "I know, and believe me, you donea know how much I appreciate it when I gotta get dinner goin'. Whenever you watch him, I have the most relaxing couple of hours I've had in a while. But I also know..." Oliver finally stopped trying to escape, flopping on Delia's shoulder. She rolled her eyes, then looked at Hermione sympathetically. "But I also know how hard it is to distract yourself while your love's away. Watching a baby isn't going to help, just makes you wistful for the future. Which I also know feels uncertain right now."

Hermione pictured a vague image of Aurora Snape, and she wished she could remember if she shared any resemblance with Severus' daughter.

"It feels so uncertain," she confessed.

Delia sat beside Hermione. "Bob didn't ask me to marry him before he left for his apprenticeship either. You know I worked for Flourish and Blotts right after Hogwarts, and I liked my job, but it didn't keep my mind from running off. Wondering if there would be a lass Bob fancied more than me. And Min, well..." Delia sighed. "There are two sides to a coin, Hermione. Taking a chance and not. I took a chance and waited, and I've been quite happy with the outcome. Min, well, she fell in love after Hogwarts with a local boy. Man now, I suppose, but you know. He was a handsome lad in his younger days, and Min was quite taken with him. Accepted his proposal, too. But she called it off, went to work for the Ministry."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Delia smiled sadly. "He was a Muggle. And after what Isobel went through with Robert, not able to do magic or tell him what she was, Min couldn't do that."

"I never quite understood that," Hermione confessed with a derisive snort, thinking of Eileen. "They're married, so why not tell them the truth? A simple Obliviate would take care of the problem if the spouse doesn't react well, and the marriage could be annulled."

"I'm sure it's a bit more complicated than that, but either way, I understand. And in any case, I think Min is happier in the wizarding world."

"But without love," Hermione sighed.

Delia scoffed. "Minerva McGonagall has been in a not-so-secret relationship with a former coworker from her Auror days. He asks her to marry him all the time, she just keeps saying no."

Hermione giggled, noting that at some point, Oliver had fallen asleep. She watched him for a moment before sighing heavily, looking out the window.

"Severus is a good man, Hermione, and it's plain as day he loves you. Don't get so downtrodden, it's only been a month. Maybe you should ask one of those friends you keep writing to pop by."

"Maybe," she agreed, realizing that it would be quite sad if she let the whole summer pass without seeing any of them.

"I want one," Sirius said, voice heavy with desire as he watched a motorcycle disappear down the road.

Hermione laughed. "Do you even know how to drive one?"

"I could enchant it. Or take lessons. Do Muggles give driving lessons or is it something you just know how to do?" he asked, turning back to her as they continued down the street in Muggle London.

"You could most certainly take lessons, though you might need to brush up on Muggle transportation, so you don't come across as too strange."

"Yes, yes," he said absently, dropping his arm around her shoulder.

Sirius had been more than willing to join her at the McGonagalls', stating that while the Potters treated him like a second son, it did seem a bit odd to be there without James. And James, it seemed, had been out more often than in. But unlike Severus, working the gardens and greenhouse held little interest for Sirius, and so they often went out together to roam. It was the third time they'd been outside the wizarding world, and apart from mistakenly calling 999 when he thought a random telephone box was going to take him to the Ministry and trying to talk to a telly in a shop, he wasn't too bad out in the Muggle world.

"So, have you heard from Snape?" he asked casually as Hermione slipped her arm around his waist.

She rested her head against his arm and sighed. "No. But it's only been a bit over a month since his apprenticeship began, and I'm almost willing to bet that his master is strict and doesn't allow much free time." She chewed her lip, wondering if she should say anything. "Have you heard much from Killian?"

Sirius froze.

"I know he was a seventh year, and I didn't know how serious..."

"You ... knew," he said, finally looking at her.

She shrugged. "Severus said he was convinced that the Sirius that sent him to the Shack wasn't you. And I realized I hadn't seen you with any girls since Marlene. I also happened to see the two of you one night when I was watching the map for Severus."

Sirius slumped. "My own weapon of mischief used against me. I'm wounded, Kitten," he groaned, and she laughed. "No, I haven't heard from Killian, nor do I expect to. He's betrothed to a lovely pure-blood lady, and who am I to stand in the way of society?"

"The first one ready to rebel against it," Hermione affirmed.

"True, but I do have some respect. He wants to do right by his wife, even if it means not indulging in his true desires, and I think that takes honor. Not even most straight pure-blood wizards stay faithful to their spouses or have any plans to do so before they wed."

"Were you betrothed?" Hermione asked.

"No." Sirius shook his head. "The only girls that my parents would have deemed worthy were my cousins. Bella is a few years older and already promised to a Lestrange; Andromeda was supposed to marry someone, but she ran off with a Muggle-born; and Narcissa was bought by the Malfoys. Sick as it is, though, I think she actually loves her husband."

"She does seem to," Hermione remarked, and at Sirius' quirked eyebrow, elaborated, "I've met them both."

Sirius processed that for a moment before understanding dawned on him. "Of course you have."

They dropped the subject as they entered a cafe, but as they stood in line, Sirius asked, "What about you? You're pure-blood, were you betrothed?"

"No," Hermione answered. "My parents married for love and they wanted the same for me." It wasn't a lie. "What kind of tea do you want?"

Dearest Hermione,

I hope this letter finds you in time, and my words fall flat. With luck, at this moment, you are sitting on the train, having only just opened this letter as instructed. It is the first time since you came to this time that you and I have not been in a compartment together. I hope this softens my absence even just a bit.

I got your letter, and I will admit that had it been anyone other than Black with you during the summer, I would have been in a terrible mood. I've missed you these last two months, to the point where I nearly slipped my fellow apprentice a babbling potion simply to have someone fill the silence with inane chatter.

Igor Karkaroff is a vain, arrogant man whom I loathe, but must tolerate. He is a couple of years older than us and has been apprenticing under Master Nikola for the last eleven months. At risk of sounding big-headed, my skills surpass him. In fact, Master Nikola has already shown subtle favoritism. I shall have an essay in Potente Potioneer by November's end.

Both men are purists, and though I have seen neither's arm, I'm nearly positive both are loyalists as well. We must wear these frock coats, you see, with sleeves that cover our hands, and a number of buttons meant to drive a man insane. Nikola claims it's to improve our dexterity, and that a proper Potions Master dresses in clothes tailored to cover his skin as much as possible, while leaving his body free to move as needed.

Quite frankly, the moment I no longer have to brew under this man's tutelage, I will shed the thing. I'm sure I will grow used to it in time, but for right now, I wouldn't be too annoyed if it had an accident with a cauldron fire.

I'd love to hear of your last first day, and every day of your year. Knowing, of course, that this is an impossibility, I merely wish to hear from you again, and as soon as possible. Your words, even if I cannot respond in a timely fashion, are a support I deeply cherish. I hope mine can be the same for you.

Until we meet or write again,

Severus

Hermione startled as a package dropped onto her unused fork with a loud clang. Lily yelped. Sirius spilled his pumpkin juice on Remus.

"What the bloody hell?" he yelled, setting down his empty goblet to refill it as Remus cast a cleaning charm on himself. "Birthday present?"

"Must be," Hermione said, gingerly picking up the parcel, careful to avoid hitting her bowl of stew. "Can't imagine who it's from."

"Really?" Remus asked, his voice squeaking a bit before he cleared his throat. "Why-why would you say that?"

"Because I'm sure anyone who was going to give me a gift already has," she replied, trying not to laugh as Remus' cheeks flushed dark red.

It was true, she'd received all she'd expected to that morning. Delia and Bob had sent a lovely card and a voucher for Madam Malkin's; Minerva had extended an invitation for tea in the evening; Sirius had gifted her a simple, dainty gold bracelet that hung elegantly off her wrist; Remus had given her a card, a small bunch of wildflowers tucked inside.

From Severus, she had received a letter.

Hermione,

Happy birthday. I will be thinking of you more today than any other day. I wish I could've spent the day with you. Since I can't, I hope this will suffice. I know I have found the scent quite comforting.

Severus

The missive may've been short, but the scent emanating from the parchment when she opened it was intoxicating. Herbs, earth, and the masculine scent of Severus. He'd laced the parchment with Amortentia and a preservation charm. That had been her favorite present.

Therefore, this parcel was an utter mystery. The writing on the top was feminine and unfamiliar. Setting the box on her lap, she removed the string and paper, then the lid. Another note rested atop the packing paper.

Hermione,

Severus asked me earlier this month to send this to you on the 19 th . Apologies if it arrives late, my mother and I had a bit of an argument about whether or not this was appropriate to send a girl he is courting.

Yours,

Eileen Prince

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach, and then jumped into her throat. For an insane, fleeting moment, she thought that Severus had caved to the pressure of proposing to her. But that couldn't be what was inside. She was fairly certain Ms. Prince would throttle her son for giving her a ring via owl.

Removing the paper, Hermione giggled softly at the contents: beautiful thick sheets of parchment monogrammed with an "H," a lovely green and gold notebook with matching embossing, and a beautiful red self-inking quill. Yes, she could very well see how the elder Mrs. Prince would think this was terribly inappropriate for a young man to give the woman he was courting, but she didn't know Hermione. And this, this was absolutely perfect.

"Who's it from?" Lily asked, standing up to peek inside.

"It's from Severus; he asked his mother to send it."

"His mother scares me," Lily proclaimed as she plopped back down into her chair. "She's so stern. So severe."

"Doesn't sound anything like Snape at all, does it?" Sirius snarked. "He's all rainbows and sunshine."

"When did he ask her?" Remus asked curiously, changing the subject before Lily could say anything else.

"She said the beginning of the month. Why?"

He shrugged. "No reason," he replied with that sad smile.

"Well, we should do rounds. Come on, James," Lily said quite suddenly, standing from the table and marching out of the Great Hall.

James immediately dropped his fork and got up, following Lily like a well-trained puppy.

Hermione watched them for a moment, considered saying something, then decided not to. She only thought they were shagging because she knew the future. It had been a while since she had to deal with the effects of the Vow; she didn't want to chance it now.

"Well, I'm going to tea with my aunt," she said, repackaging her latest present and placing it in her bag.

"Why weren't we invited?" Sirius asked with feigned offense. "I remember you had a tag-along last year."

"She invited him. Professor McGonagall actually likes Severus," Hermione retorted.

"She likes us, too," Sirius countered.

"Well," Remus hedged.

"Fine, she likes us more these days than before. But that's because we've matured!" Sirius argued.

"Be that as it may," Hermione replied, "I would actually prefer the quiet time with her." Without giving the gesture much thought, she kissed his cheek.

"Careful, Kitten," Sirius said. "You'll start rumors."

"You're like a brother to me, Sirius," she replied. "Those rumors would die fairly quickly."

She shouldered her bag, heading to the exit. She slowed and paused, feeling someone watching her. Instinctively, she turned to the Slytherin table, though she found no one paying attention to her, but still felt someone's eyes on her.

It was only when she left the room did she realize that the focus had come from the head table, and she doubted it was Minerva watching her.

"How can some people seem to hate each other so much, yet are so obviously shagging one another?" Remus wondered aloud as he and Hermione walked down the streets of Hogsmeade together. Sirius was just ahead, walking with Peter as they and James were heading to Spintwitches. James, however, had been sidetracked by Lily, Marlene, and Alice when they rushed past to get to Madam Puddifoot's. James was instantly distracted, and despite Lily's shouts to be left alone, James acted more like a dog than Sirius ever did.

"There's a fine line between love and hate," Hermione noted, crossing her arms to hold herself as the chill of the late October air threatened to penetrate her cloak.

"I always thought it was more...opposites attract," Remus mused.

"Except, of course, that Lily and James are more alike than either like to admit. Both considered attractive, charismatic, have a slightly higher intelligence than average, and adore being the center of attention."

"That's a bit unfair, Hermione," Remus chided, but Hermione merely shrugged.

"Unfair, but true."

They were silent for a moment, the sound of Sirius and Peter arguing over a broom the only distinct sound despite the crowds around them.

"Hermione," he said slowly, carefully. "It's been a long time since you heard from ... I mean a short note on your birthday, stationary? And Sirius told me he didn't write you all summer."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at, Remus," she said in a measured tone.

"Are you... perhaps ... maybe ... hanging on to—"

"Severus?" Hermione said.

She had to shake herself once, twice, but when the figure coming down the road, not fifty feet away, didn't disappear, she had to believe.

He was dressed exactly as she remembered him in her past, though instead of teaching robes, he wore a traveling cloak. His face, of course, was far more youthful, though now Hermione wasn't really sure if the man she remembered from her past was quite as old looking as she'd once thought.

She watched as he glanced toward the castle, his face a perfect look of indifference, though Hermione suspected that he was Occluding. She certainly hoped he was.

Taking a few steps forward, reaching for him without thinking, she felt Remus' hand close on her wrist. He gave her pause, but she didn't— couldn't —look away.

His head whipped around toward Lily and James, the pair so engrossed in their argument that they hadn't noticed Severus not far from them. He looked thoughtful, then turned toward her.

"Snape!" Sirius greeted warmly, though Severus didn't reply.

Remus' hand tightened around her wrist, but not enough to stop her from pulling free. Severus remained exactly where he was while Hermione marched right over to him.

"No word that you would be here?" she demanded on her way, nearly sounding pissed off, but her voice squeaked with joy.

"I'd no idea I would be here until this morning. Master Nikola required an ingredient immediately, and he's never been to Hogsmeade," Severus replied, and had it not been for the happy glint in his eye, she'd have thought he could care less whether she was there or not.