Was this stupid?

She wasn't sure as she slid her arm through his offered one on the other side of the gates that would take them away from Malfoy Manor and to Hogwarts. He'd asked her if she would mind a side along. She wasn't sure how else he expected she'd be able to get there, but realized he was just being polite despite the expectation of a side along.

She took a breath, preparing herself for the pull that still unsettled her. The next thing she knew they were standing in what was very obviously not a lab or classroom but a living room.

"I, Severus," she said. "This doesn't look like your lab."

"Forgive my appearing at all presumptuous, Hermione. That is not my intent at all. I have permission to apparate into Hogwarts as a year-long resident, but only into our quarters."

"Oh, of course," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. Going to his home was not what she'd been prepared for. Not that she wasn't curious about it.

"Would you like a tour since we are here? I promise I have no ill intentions."

"Yes, please," she said.

She had memories of the other Hermione wondering how Severus lived. She knew he was from Cokeworth, but she had never seen the inside of his home or his quarters at Hogwarts. She, then and now, was immensely curious to see it.

It was surprisingly nice.

The impression she had of Severus was quite, well, basic. Not necessarily utilitarian, but definitely minimalistic. Simple. Nothing unnecessary. She wasn't expecting paintings (muggle and magical) on the wall, a potted plant on a nearby table, or an old muggle hand-crank record player. It didn't look as if it was just a decoration or collector's item either, judging by the plastic muggle milk crate next to it with long player records in it. The plant was clearly just a house plant versus one used for potential ingredients. There was a drinking glass on a side table with the residuals of perhaps lemonade judging by the light yellow hue in it and a blanket thrown over the chair next to it suggesting it was used regularly (both the blanket and the chair).

One of the rooms was obviously used primarily by Harry. There were quidditch magazines on the couch and school texts as well. She noticed that there was a muggle book on the coffee table.

The kitchen was sufficiently stocked for either wizard to get a snack or tea if they wanted to without bothering elves. (She imagined this was the reason for the glass still being on the side table.)

It was homey. Harry's surroundings here certainly beat spending years in a cupboard under the stairs at his aunt and uncle's home.

None of it was what she'd expected.

"You are very quiet," he said.

"It just isn't what I was expecting," she said quietly as she walked to a bookcase that was clearly meant for curious guests such as herself. Pristine tomes, first editions, and a vast collection of hardcover Stephen King books that did not look as if they'd been read. Or if they had, not often and very carefully.

"You like Stephen King?" she asked.

"I do. A friend introduced me to Carrie when I was still a student here at Hogwarts, and as you can see I've amassed quite the collection over the years."

"He is rather prolific," she said, running the tip of her finger over a very nice edition of The Stand .

"That he is. Do you enjoy him?"

"I do. I'm ashamed to admit as close as I am to it that I've never been to Bangor. Have you been?"

"I'm afraid not. It's been a good many years since I've been to America and it was a business trip so there was no time for such a thing."

"I should like to see it, see some of the places he has been and frequents."

"That would be interesting, I think."

"There is a tour, I believe."

"Well, what's stopping you?"

"I didn't really know anyone else at school who reads No-Maj authors," she said. "And certainly not Stephen King as rabidly as I do. That seems as if it'd be something better to do with someone than alone. My friend, Aiyanna, would go with me if I asked her to. Professor Brown probably would, too. I've been to his home, but I can't see how that would be very fun for someone who didn't like him, though. And neither really do."

"Ah. Well, perhaps if whatever the idea you had regarding test subjects for my experiment pans out I could accompany you."

She turned to face him then, smiling widely. She was hoping she wasn't too subtle and that he'd make the offer! "I'd like that very much, Severus," she said.

"As would I, Hermione."

"Does Harry like living here year-round?"

"He hasn't voiced any complaints. It keeps him safe, and I think he understands that."

"Right. I imagine despite Voldemort's defeat there are still followers who would enjoy getting revenge on The Boy Who Lived."

"Very perceptive, and yes, that has been my fear and reason for staying not only employed at Hogwarts but living here year-round. I had thought, originally, after the war ended that I could do something else. University studies, though I never thought of what I'd study if I went that route. Muggle chemistry? I just wasn't sure. An apothecary was a thought as well. I hadn't completely made up my mind, I just knew that if I didn't have to remain at Hogwarts I wanted to do something else. I hadn't anticipated having Harry when I envisioned those things. My priority then became keeping him safe and protecting his privacy. As well as my own."

That made sense. She wondered why he was still here. If the headmaster had made him stay somehow. It seemed not. It seemed he chose to. Interesting. She wondered what kind of professor he was without the pressure of a war and spying. She had memories of him, but none of him without those influences. He hadn't been a bad professor. Serious. Exacting. Strict. It was a subject, though, that more than a few magical people just didn't get. Many certainly didn't understand the potential for harm, or even death, from a potion.

She would like to see it, she realized. See the differences because there would have to be plenty. Just the stress from spying had to be huge let alone the mischief she, Harry, and Ronald had gotten into. Of course, this Severus wouldn't remember those things.

He'd spent seventeen years as a professor with only two months, give or take, as a spy. There were bound to be changes. She hadn't thought about that until now.

"And his father's friends?"

"Ah, the esteemable Messrs Black and Lupin I presume you mean?"

"Mm, yes," she said. "I was surprised they were not at the party."

"I believe they stayed away as they are not fans of the Malfoys."

"Ah, I am also surprised that Harry and Draco seem as close as they do."

"Virtually inseparable, and competed ferociously for top of their class."

"That's what Harry said. That's impressive."

"Yes, well, he was committed. I suspect if Draco wasn't the one he was in competition with he wouldn't have been as much so. Best friends though they may be, they are both extremely competitive."

She smiled at that. Some things never changed, it seemed. At least it was friendly competitiveness this time.

"Lucius, Draco's father, mentioned you gave Harry some quidditch gloves."

"I did. Viktor mentioned his love for quidditch and that he suspected Harry might like to play professionally. So I thought it was an acceptable gift for a wizard contemplating that career path. Was I mistaken? Did I overstep?"

She truly wanted to get him a nice gift without going crazily overboard. Other than Aiyanna she didn't really have any friends she cared to buy gifts for. She exchanged small gifts with Professor Brown, but that had been it. A pair of quidditch gloves didn't seem that crazy.

"Not at all. I'm sure Harry was thrilled. He's always used the school's equipment other than his broom before now. Obviously if he does play professionally he'll need his own."

"Right, Viktor mentioned that was the case, which was how I knew. They might be charmed to be extra durable."

"I would expect no less."

She bit her lip as she looked around his living room again.

"Would you show me more of Hogwarts, Severus?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, offering her his arm and leading them to a door she presumed led into the castle.

Home.

Her core thrummed as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts. He was an incredibly good and thorough guide. He obviously took pride in his home. And there was no doubt he considered it home.

He loved it as she did.

And it obviously loved him, too.

Seemingly her, too, even today.

Ilvermorny was a good choice.

The right choice.

She knew that now even if she hadn't understood at the time why she felt so vehemently that she could not go to Hogwarts. It had never felt like home to her. She'd never felt a connection to it. It was just a means to an end for her to study magic and become an adult witch. She imagined that was why she went with college studies versus an apprenticeship. There was no kinship, no belonging, there. As good as Professor Brown was, he hadn't made her want to stay.

She pressed her hand against the wall outside of Gryffindor tower when they stopped there. She gasped softly as power and acceptance rushed through her. She had the memories of this castle, of her feeling that it accepted her, for a couple of months now.

Until this moment she hadn't physically felt it, though.

It was powerfully humbling that it had chosen her.

"Did you know I was the first person in almost one hundred years to be chosen by every house at Ilvermorny," she said, her eyes closed as she allowed the castle's power to course through her.

"I did not, but that is not surprising."

"As a result I was able to choose," she said.

"And you chose?"

"Wampus," she whispered. "The Wampus fascinates me. Their lore exists in No-Maj tales as well as magical. I liked that, a foot in both worlds as it were."

He was quiet, too quiet and she opened her eyes to find him watching her.

"That is … interesting. Are you aware that Dolores Umbridge was the victim of a Wampus attack in Hogsmeade? I believe that would have been a year or so before you started Ilvermorny."

She was quiet for a moment, picking through her memories and finding some of Dolores Umbridge. How did Severus know she would recognize that name? They must have talked about her then. And with that thought the bits of conversation about the vile witch came to her.

"I did not. She survived, I presume?"

"She did, the Wampus was cared for at Hogwarts for a time. Eventually when healthy and deemed not a threat to humans it was returned to its homeland."

"Not a threat to humans?" She arched her brows at the very idea that a wild animal could be thought to be that.

"Obviously, it's a wild animal, but they were cautious with it having been in a populated area that it would seek that out again."

"Ah, yes, I understand. Kind of like why you're not supposed to feed bears and such."

"Yes, exactly. And just as in those instances an animal sometimes has to be put down, or kept in captivity so the threat of harm to a human is less."

"Right, of course."

She bit her lower lip as she regarded the Fat Lady.

"Might I see an example of one of Hogwarts' common rooms?" she asked.

"Of course," he said with a bow of his head. "May we enter, please?"

The Fat Lady let them through. Hermione could tell she was watching the couple with interest not suspicion.

"No password?" she asked.

"It's summer holidays, no one is here but me. And Harry, who would of course have the password anyway given this was his dormitory. Until September first anyway. Then of course Minerva will change it for the new school year."

"Right," she said, glancing in the direction she knew the boys' dormitory to be. "Were you disappointed?"

"By what?" he asked, sounding perplexed by the question.

"That he wasn't sorted into Slytherin?"

"Good heavens, Merlin, no, not at all. I think in truth that I would have been disappointed if he had been sorted there. He doesn't belong there."

"Because he's not a pureblood?"

"Of course not, neither am I."

"Mm," she said.

"I shudder to think of the gossip and the bylines that would have been printed if the son of two Gryffindors, both of whom were heroes of the Order, and one of whom I was reportedly in love with and still am because I haven't taken a witch in the seventeen years since her death had been sorted into Slytherin."

"I suppose that wouldn't have been a good thing for either of you."

"No," he said.

"Are you?" she asked, biting her lower lip as she walked to the fireplace.

She ran her hand over the mantle above it. She felt his hands on her shoulders and she gasped at the contact. The power she'd felt from touching the castle's walls was nothing compared to this.

"What exactly are you asking me, Hermione?"

"You know what I'm asking you," she whispered.

"Look at me, Hermione," he murmured against her ear, causing her to shiver.

She turned to face him then. He looked into her eyes and she didn't flinch or look away. She held his gaze, believing that he would not use legilimency on her without permission. He would find that rude, invasive. She didn't doubt he'd had reason to in the past. She doubted at this moment in time he would want to be either, though.

"There is only one witch I've carried feelings for into my adult life and I can assure you that it is not Lily Potter."

"Oh," she said, knowing that was an insufficient response but it was all that she could come up with being this close to him. He unsettled her, but not in a way she didn't like or that made her uncomfortable.

It was just so new. Foreign.

She had memories of how he made her feel, memories of an evening with him in a bed where they'd snogged and slept. Memories were not real experiences, though. Memories didn't really convey feelings. This Severus wouldn't have those memories at all she realized.

"Harry likes to tell me how brave I am."

"You are," she said quickly and he smiled.

"I appreciate you saying so, but this witch that I speak of puts me to shame in the bravery department."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"Do you?"

"Yes, it's not like she was a spy or anything, is it?"

"No," he said.

He leaned toward her and her breath caught. He put his hands at her cheeks, his fingers pressing into her hair. And her hair as it had done in her memories wrapped around his fingers as he touched her there.

"She did so much more than that, though, risked everything," he murmured before settling his lips over hers.

It was obvious they were both hesitant, uncertain. He didn't make any effort to deepen the kiss and neither did she.

At first.

Eventually, though, that power she'd felt from the castle and his touch filled her with so much emotion that she couldn't help but want more. She slid her arms over his shoulders and she drew him closer as she parted her lips slightly. He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her against him as he parted his in return.

Yes, yes, yes.

She wanted to shout it from the battlements. This was exactly what it should be like. This was what she needed.

Him.

She'd always thought there was something wrong with her that she didn't want to kiss wizards. She watched with curious interest as others engaged in public displays, but it was an intellectual interest. She was curious as to why young wizards and witches at Ilvermorny wanted to engage in such activities.

This, though, told her there was nothing at all wrong with her - or those other wizards and witches for wanting to do this. She was evidently just far more selective than others she knew were.

He broke the kiss eventually when they both needed breath. His hands at her cheeks were warm, his fingers at her hair gentle as he touched her. Her hair seemed to be enjoying his attentions as well as it was almost caressing his wrists and fingers.

"As lost as I felt that you did not show at Hogwarts as you were supposed to, I am glad that you chose Ilvermorny."

"I am as well," she whispered.

He drew away slightly and she met his gaze. Her hair crackled as he drew his hands away from touching her. It didn't want him to release her. He looked contemplative. Aroused for certain, as she was sure she did as well. However, contemplative was winning out she could see.

"What?" she asked.

"Have you known all along?"

"No," she whispered. "I mean, maybe."

She shrugged. How to explain what she herself was still trying to figure out?

"I have always known things . I never knew how I knew them, but I did. It's how I accomplished my work on the polyjuice potion. I just knew how the potion worked. Clearly, in my second year I shouldn't have."

"I see, and yes, you're right."

"I brewed it originally, here."

"Oh?"

"In my second year, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which happens to be the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. I suppose that never opened, did it?"

"No," he said, sounding both intrigued and concerned at the mention of the Chamber.

"Well, if you ever need a basilisk there's one down there. You'd need a parseltongue to get in there, though."

"Here?"

"Oh yes," she whispered. "Haven't you read Hogwarts: A History , Severus? I realize it would have changed in my lifetime, but prior to that it shouldn't have."

"I guess I have forgotten that bit. I do remember Hagrid stood accused of an Acromantula causing petrifications when he was a student."

"It wasn't Hagrid, it was Tom Riddle, and it wasn't Hagrid's snake."

"I see," he said.

"Does Harry still speak it? Parseltongue?"

"No, he never did that I'm aware of. You told me he was a horcrux. I researched as much as I could between when I last saw you that August day in 1981 and Halloween. I wasn't sure whether I could save his parents, obviously I could not. I was determined, however, to save him. I created a potion. A death elixir. It was tricky, given his size. It essentially fooled his body into thinking he was dead for a time so that piece of soul housed within him was destroyed. It was incredibly risky I realize, but I read through your notes as to some of Harry's experiences that had to be because of that piece of soul within him. I know you didn't know that until that final battle, but reading your notes and the symptoms described aware of it I knew."

"And it worked?"

"As far as I know. Yes. Obviously, the Dark Lord did not return and I have heard no rumblings of any attempts for him to do so. Lucius is still under the impression I spied only for Lily's benefit and with her gone my loyalty to Albus and the Order went to the wayside. He believes, I think, I took Harry in, in part, to keep the enemy of my enemy and friend - Albus and the Dark Lord in that order - close. I'm not sure he's truly thought it through. He has said nothing to me about anyone believing the Dark Lord could return. Your notes on Quirinus Quirrell were thorough enough that I knew to keep an eye on his activity over the years. He, as far as I know, has not hunted for nor found any evidence the Dark Lord could return. Harry has not experienced headaches or nightmares that I would attribute to anything beyond his parents being killed in front of him. So I have taken that to mean they were all, including the one housed in Harry's head, destroyed."

"Oh, good, yes. I was just going to say if you did need the snake, Harry would have been an option. I know parseltongue speakers aren't common."

The snake had to still be down there, didn't it? If they weren't here to kill it. She shivered at the thought of it slithering around down there.

Change of subject!

"Have you ever been in here before?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"Not even to get Harry or anything?"

"No, I have never had any need."

"Oh, well," she said, dropping her hands into his and tugging on them. She led him to one of the couches. He took the hint and sat and she did the same, leaning toward him so that they could resume kissing.

He seemed not to mind that idea. She certainly didn't either.

"Why were you upset with me?" he asked quite a while later.

She shrugged, her head was resting against his shoulder comfortably. She could get used to this. She'd never experienced this closeness with anyone. Was that bad? Was it too fast?

"I didn't want to be someone you just wished to speak to because I've had articles published."

"Ah. I can assure you that is not the case, Hermione."

"I wasn't sure. I'd come all this way, didn't tell my parents of my trip here, lied to my professor - by omission not a blatant lie, and I didn't know."

"You can ask Harry. On May second I pretty well camped outside of the Room on the chance you would emerge from it."

"That is the day I got my memories back," she whispered.

"I wondered if that was the case when Lucius mentioned to me Viktor only responded in the affirmative to attending Harry's party three or so weeks ago."

"Oh, yes, he'd written to me before asking if I wanted to meet him here. He knew I was staying at school for the summer again this year and thought I could use the break. Professor Brown has always been nice and let me take a few days here and there if I wanted to. It's usually been to see Viktor play somewhere, but I've always tried to get something more than watching him play out of it."

"He is fond of you."

"He is," she admitted, sliding her hand into his and lacing her fingers through his.

"The feelings are not reciprocated?"

"No, and he is aware of that. I'm also not sure if he is fond of me or if he thinks that he should be. He has never behaved inappropriately when we've been together nor has he ever implied we are anything but what we are. Friends. I have never felt uncomfortable being alone with him. I think he just likes having someone around him who isn't with him because he's famous who can keep the groupies at bay. Contrary to what newspapers seem to print, he's not having sex every day of the week with a dozen witches."

"That is not the impression he left me with when he spent time here. Both as to his feelings for you and his activities with witches. He has not introduced you, or spoken of you, as anything but a friend."

"What gave me away?" She was curious if it was one thing or several adding up to him recognizing that she knew.

"Mm," he murmured. "The gifts."

"Really?"

"The gloves, while logical, were a bit extravagant for a mere guest, and I recall that you said you thought of him as a brother."

"I did."

"And Lucius mentioned that you had removed all of the flavors but Harry's favorites."

"I did," she said, rubbing her head against his shoulder.

"Intentionally?"

"The gloves? No, I mean, you're right, I wanted to get him something I knew he'd use and think of me when he uses them even if he has no idea why I would want him to. The Bertie Bott's, yes, that was intentional."

He turned to face her then, causing her to lift her head from his shoulder.

"What you did, Hermione, is the most selfless thing I think I've ever been witness to. What Lily did for Harry is … expected. A mother would put her life before her child's. That's no surprise. You had no such blood tie to anyone involved in any of this. I mean, I knew, I expected things to change of course. I don't think I truly thought of what it was you were offering to do at the time. I was still in a rather … bitter place."

"Right," she said.

She understood. He probably felt raw, too. She knew, priding herself on her own intellect, that if she'd fallen for Voldemort's rhetoric she'd question everything.

"But for yourself, you changed everything and had no idea when you asked me to do it that your life wouldn't be worse."

"I spent seven years with my life at risk with an evil maniac after me because of who my parents and best friend were. I was petrified, almost killed, and had to watch someone I cared about be accused of heinous things. As a seventeen year old, with two sixteen year olds, I was expected to go hunt for cursed objects with no idea where they were or even for certain what they were. We did and succeeded, but I was captured and tortured in the process. There was so much death and destruction. You were among that. I worked for a long time to get you to where I felt remotely comfortable moving you to the infirmary. I wasn't sure you were going to make it through the day. I honestly have no idea if you did. I like to think you would. That you went through everything you did and had a future to look forward to. Hogwarts gave me an opportunity. I didn't see a downside for any of us. I took it."

She slid a hand to his cheek, touching him.

"I didn't do it to be brave or anything. I did it in an attempt to save the world and make it a better place for everyone. Does Molly Weasley have both of her brothers?"

"Yes," he said with a scowl. "I mean as far as I know, there are Prewetts at Hogwarts."

"And the Longbottoms are healthy?"

"Neville Longbottom's parents? Yes."

"Well, see, already just that is an improvement."

"And if you hadn't gotten your memories back?"

"I don't know. I guess you would have had to woo me."

He scowled a bit at that and she chuckled. She couldn't help it.

"Do you really wish to go to Bangor?"

"I'd love to go to Bangor. With you. Do you still have my book?"

"I do. Did you want it back?"

"No, I just wondered."

"I do. And your sandals. They were two of the few tangible things I had to reassure myself that you were real and not a figment of my imagination. Of course I kept them."

She'd forgotten about her sandals. She had no idea what they looked like. She remembered their conversations in the Room, but what she had been wearing specifically seemed not to be clear. Or as clear.

"Would you take me to the Room, Severus?"

"I would be happy to," he said.

He stood then, offering her his hand. She took it, lacing her fingers through his again.

They stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Hermione said.

"You are welcome, Dear," she said.

"Madam," Severus said with a slight nod before leading Hermione up to the seventh floor.

She slid her hand along the portrait across from the Room.

"God, it's so ugly," she said with a laugh.

The memories truly didn't do it justice.

"It's hideous," he agreed. "Here we are," he said, going to the opposite wall where a door was now.

She smiled widely when they stepped through. She recognized it.

"It's exactly as it was in my memories," she whispered.

"I should have known as good as your burn paste was that you'd choose potions," he said.

"I don't know that I was headed in that direction then," she said.

"No?"

"I'm not sure where I was headed, the Ministry I suppose. I hadn't really been given the opportunity to think about that. I wasn't even sure I was going to be able to sit my NEWTs."

"I see," he said. He nodded as if recalling their conversations on that subject. "I remember now you said that, yes. I just assumed with the war ending, you would have…"

"I don't know. I really don't."

"I'm sure whoever the headmaster would have been at the end of it all would have allowed you to. They'd have been a fool not to."

She wasn't so sure about that. It would have depended on who the headmaster was. Severus or Professor McGonagall? Yes, they probably would have. Someone from the Ministry who was installed there who didn't know her or who was a cog? Maybe not.

"You are still a legilimens?"

"Yes," he said, sounding amused by the question.

She waved her hand and the two chairs in front of the fireplace were now the same sofa they'd sat on together once before. At least it looked the same to her from the memories she had of it.

"Impressive," he said with a nod.

"Wands aren't as prominent at Ilvermorny," she said with a shrug.

"I seem to recall that being the case, yes," he said, taking a seat. "You can still be impressive, Hermione. I imagine despite wandless magic being emphasized there that many cannot do it. There is a reason they still give the students wands there."

She nodded. He was correct. There were more than just a few who struggled with wandless magic. She cleared her throat lightly then, rubbing her hands on her robes.

"Will you please?"

"I'm sorry?"

He looked rather panicked by her request and she gave a soft laugh.

"You still have a dirty mind, I see," she quipped.

He scowled, the panic was gone but he was clearly unsure what she was asking of him.

"Perform legilimens on me," she said.

"Hermione," he said.

"I'm asking, I need you to see," she whispered.

"Very well," he said as she took a seat next to him.

They each got comfortable in a position on the couch where they could look at one another for at least a little while. She wasn't sure how long this would take.

"You are certain?"

"Yes," she said. "I trust you."

"Very well. Legilimens," he whispered.

The first thing she noticed about him being in her mind was that it felt comfortable. She hadn't liked having people in her mind the other times she'd allowed them in when learning legilimency and occlumency. It felt intrusive, like an invasion. Her thoughts were hers. She didn't want anyone else to see them. It was part of the reason she'd gotten good at occlumency as quickly as she did.

She had no doubt when he had to do this at other times, with other people, he wasn't as gentle about it. With her, though, it was more like a Western Pygmy Blue butterfly she'd seen while potion collecting in New Mexico two summers ago flitting through her mind. Small, intimate.

She sent him a picture of the butterfly, thinking they were not in the UK, so he would know what she was likening his presence to. How small the butterfly was. He laughed at that image. She liked him there. It felt right. Very much like how Hogwarts felt for her. She knew he'd never take advantage of her allowing him to do this or harm her.

Home.

She loved her parents and they loved and supported her, but she'd never felt as if their home was her home. Not truly deep down where it mattered. Her core. Her soul. Her heart. She wasn't sure which it was. All three maybe? It was an odd feeling for a child. At least she thought it was. They knew it, too, which was why they'd agreed to let her go to Ilvermorny. They knew the inevitable of their daughter leaving the nest was just happening much sooner for them than it did for most parents. She was so glad they'd understood and hadn't taken it personally.

This. Hogwarts and Severus were home for her.

She concentrated very hard to push the memories to the front of her mind she wanted to share with him. Various things throughout those years only she remembered anymore that she thought were maybe not important to the grand scheme of things but to her they were.

An image of the Professor Quirrell from her memories. Her solving his puzzle. She got a glimpse of him being impressed and couldn't help but smile at that.

The important bits of each of her school years. Him stepping in between them and Remus. The feeling she'd gotten at him doing that. How brave she thought he was, especially considering his lack of fondness for Harry. She'd learned later, the day they met at St. Peter's, that he'd been the victim of a dangerous prank by Sirius and James that involved Remus. Yet, he still tried to save them from Remus.

He didn't seem overly interested in Remus or Sirius, passing over the memories of those events pretty quickly. He did scowl when it was revealed Peter Pettigrew was the one who'd betrayed them to the Dark Lord.

He seemed particularly interested in the Triwizard Tournament and Harry's name being placed in the cup, and of course Cedric's death and the return of Voldemort. He stopped and filtered through those particular memories again.

And again.

She could feel his anger, his fear, and his relief that it had been avoided. She could admit to experiencing the same feelings herself. The idea of … someone coming back as the result of horcruxes was frightening. Repulsive, but frightening.. It hadn't happened, though. They'd done that. They'd put their heads together, with the help of Hogwarts, and prevented it.

He finally saw how she got the scar he'd seen originally. And from there, the blackened hand of Dumbledore she'd seen a few times (accidentally she was quite sure). She heard him hiss at the thought of Death Eaters on Hogwarts premises the night of Dumbledore's death. He saw their conversation in the hotel room.

His story.

The hours they spent together kissing, talking, and trying very hard not to fall asleep knowing they both had to get back to their lives.

She showed him the months the Trio were hunting, their capture and her torture, how they'd not only freed Luna Lovegood and Mr. Ollivander but gained the favour of a goblin. For good measure because she thought he'd find it amusing she pushed the memories of their Gringotts breakin to him. She could feel his disbelief and ultimately his pride.

The Battle of Hogwarts was last, the last time she'd seen him conscious (barely), him sharing his memories for Harry, how she'd helped him, and how despite the Room being on fire and inaccessible the castle had allowed them to meet one last time.

She moved on then, pushing memories of her decision to try to get into Ilvermorny instead of Hogwarts. Her arrival there and sorting, including her wand choosing her. The work she'd done, her friend Aiyanna, and her trips to the mountains alone because she enjoyed her solitude. Her time in the infirmary, what she could remember of it anyway.

Eventually, he withdrew from her mind and she felt … oddly exhausted.

"They kept him locked in a cupboard?"

She'd never heard him sound angry. Not really. She'd heard him irritated and even scared, but never angry. Sure she had memories of him reacting to people putting wrong ingredients in cauldrons or something, but that was understandable. At least to her. It was not anger like this.

"Yes," she said softly.

"And the headmaster allowed this?"

She shrugged. She really didn't know what all Headmaster Dumbledore knew, but suspected.

"I don't know. I mean, he had to know, didn't he? How could he not have? He knows everything! I'm surprised he doesn't know what I did somehow."

"No wonder you were so adamant that he go anywhere else."

"Yes, well, he doesn't know and I'm very glad. He grew up loved and cared for, valued."

He stood then and she watched him as he walked to the fireplace.

"That's a lot to process," he said softly, his back to her. He'd stood in much the same way the night of that final battle when she'd found him in the Room to approach him with her idea.

"I can go. I can apparate to Malfoy Manor from outside the gates."

"No, stay." He chuckled softly with a shake of his head. "That's not what I'm implying, Hermione. I just," he turned then to look at her. "I see it in your eyes now. I didn't know what to look for I suppose and it's been seventeen years since I had seen you. Even though those events no longer transpired I see that experience."

"Yes, well," she shrugged. "I'm not sure that can ever be taken away. I think that look has always been there. People have referred to me as an old soul for as long as I can remember."

"I hope not, that it's not removed. It helps make you, well, you," he admitted. "I hadn't noticed it until now. Some spy." He chuckled softly.

"Well, as you say it was seventeen years ago. You've been busy."

"You are too kind. You have always been too kind it seems."

He walked to her then and offered her his hand, which she took without question or hesitation and stood.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?" What was he asking her?

"Why? I don't understand. I saw those memories. I heard the things I said to you. Cruel doesn't even begin to describe some of them. Yet you stood up for me to your friends, respected me, and somehow developed feelings for me. I am sure that other version of myself was equally as curious."

She shrugged, unable to look away from her hand in his. She honestly wasn't sure herself. She had memories of trying to figure that out when she first realized what those feelings were. It came upon her subtly. It wasn't like a lightning strike, it was gradual. By her sixth year she realized she had more than a crush on the man.

"If you can explain feelings and the heart to me I'd love to hear it."

"No, I am no expert on such things. Obviously."

"See. You ask me why, but I don't get that."

"What?"

"Why you aren't married," she said, grazing the back of his hand with her thumb. She didn't like thinking of him with another witch, but this man wasn't the man in her memories. Not exactly. Not after 1981. His life, his path was very different. He could have done any number of things he hadn't done in her original timeline. "I was going to send you a letter via owl when the memories first returned, but I couldn't figure out a legitimate enough sounding reason to do so that wouldn't make me sound like a crazy person. So, I remembered Viktor's invitation and thought maybe you'd be there or I could at least find out about you. I knew you'd been friends with Mr. Malfoy originally. I assumed you'd be married or something. You didn't have that life. You willingly took on someone else's orphaned son. I'd think that would make you quite sought after."

"While my life may have changed, my appearance and demeanour obviously have not. I had no time for courting and mindless chatter about the weather. Mayhaps if I didn't reside at Hogwarts, but I really wasn't interested."

"Why?" she asked, glancing from their joined hands to his face now. She wasn't vain enough to think it was all because of her, but the thought of her playing even a small role was a nice one. In the other timeline he'd waited for her other than his initiation. Something he'd been surprised she knew about when she saw him the last time in the Room.

"I have your notes, your books. I was … intrigued. To say that I hadn't met anyone that I felt could come close to rivaling my intellect is not a fabrication of the facts. I will not deny Minerva has attempted to play matchmaker more than once over the years. I never found anyone I wanted to converse with or who inspired me to trust them. I think some might have been interested, but not in me or for the real me. Their interest would have been Harry or his money. Certainly I never encountered anyone who I wanted to kiss. Who felt like, well, home. For whatever reason, whatever the castle and the Room was doing that first meeting. In you I found it," he shrugged. "I had no idea what differences would come about, but I was determined, at an appropriate time obviously, to ask for permission to court you."

"Really?"

"Really, you sound surprised. I remembered you all along, Hermione. Seventeen years I had those memories. That was assuming you weren't otherwise committed already and weren't interested in me at the time of our meeting."

"So does that mean you aren't going to ask?"

"I take it you wish for me to formally pose the question?"

She ducked her head a little at that. "Well, yes, I mean I think I would like all the trappings," she said.

"Mm," he said. "Did Krum ask?"

"I, well, he invited me to visit him the past couple of summers and to see him play." She shrugged, glancing up to meet his eyes again. "He hasn't said anything about intentions, no, and I truly don't think he ever will. As I said earlier, I do not think his interest in me is like that."

"You are still figuring out if you want to attend university or do an apprenticeship, Hermione."

Why did that sentence hurt her heart? Actually it went deeper than her heart. She sighed softly with a shake of her head. She supposed it was too good to be true. Too easy to think she could just come here…

"Stupid," she mumbled. "I understand. I'm not suggesting…"

"Let me finish."

"Yes, Sir."

"Severus. We are having a personal discussion that has nothing to do with my role as an instructor nor have I ever been your instructor or in a position of authority over you."

"I know."

"I shouldn't feel right formally asking permission to court you."

"I understand," she said, nibbling her lower lip with a sigh. She was thinking, hoping. Well, she wasn't sure what she thought or hoped. Obviously he did not. "It's okay, Severus. I really do understand. I'm not trying to make you do anything you don't want to do. I just showed up here out of the blue. I get it. It's okay."

"Odd, impertinent Witch. Quit putting words into my mouth and let me finish."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I just don't want you to think I'm trying to pressure you when you've really only seen me for a day now."

"That is true I suppose. However, these are not normal circumstances. Are they? With that being said, I would very much like to do so. Court you, that is. If you will allow me, of course, to court you as a wizard would his witch."

"Oh," she said, knowing she was blushing profusely at that.

"What are your plans after Ilvermorny?"

She shrugged. Now that he asked that question she realized they hadn't really talked about her plans earlier. He knew she was going to Edinburgh, but as far as her goals. She hadn't said. 

"Well, you know I'm going to Edinburgh in September. For some reason, and it makes more sense now that I have these memories, I want to go to college for History and then possibly law school. That's just a thought, after undergraduate hasn't really seemed real yet."

"Oh? You no longer wish to continue in the wizarding world then?"

"No, I do. In my experience, whether it happened to anyone else is irrelevant really, people put too much stock in the Wizengamot and the chance of a fair trial. I imagine I would have to practice mostly in the No-Maj world until the idea of a defense attorney takes hold in the magical world. I guess that's why I'm not sure I want to pursue it. I'm not sure how much of a career I'd have, and I don't want to waste all of that money for nothing."

"In London?"

"That was the idea, yes. After college in Edinburgh, again I have no idea why I chose it over other options I was accepted to."

"So we have time, and I know that Clyde will aid you if you decide university is not the path you choose and you want an apprenticeship instead. I could assist as well, of course, but regardless of those memories he is who you are personally familiar with so I understand you might prefer his aid. Trust me, apprenticeships can be difficult even without working with someone you are not acquainted with."

"Thank you," she said.

"You don't have to thank me for wanting to see you succeed," he said, releasing her hand.

She was going to stop him from doing so but he reached with his hand to cup her cheek. She relished the contact.

"Romantic interest or not you are very bright with so much potential. Of course I would be interested in your future."

"I know."

"So, yes, I do wish to court you. Officially, though logic would tell me not to do so this quickly. I imagine my owl, who is good for international mail by the way if you needed to use him for such things, will get his exercise in over the next few years. Perhaps we can earmark that visit to Bangor for one of our mutual holidays off from classes. If you will have me, of course."

"I'd like that," she said.

"Does that meet with your approval? We can take time to get to know one another before committing to more than courtship. I understand it's perhaps not the answer you were wanting. I wouldn't feel right speculating on a future as much as I hope and want for it to lead there."

"No, it makes sense. I have enough to worry about anyway with my upcoming school work if I decide that I do want to get into law school."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to throw in feeling the pressure to visit one another on occasion and a formal proposal, would we?"

"Well, no, that would be a distraction!"

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. "I'd take offense to that, but I think I would have felt the same way."

"I'd also thought of majoring in Library Sciences."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I was thinking the wizarding world could use a historian who has a nose for detail for research and archiving purposes. Something the entirety of the wizarding world can use. It feels so segregated."

"A Muggle Studies textbook that makes sense would be good, too. Speaking from a Hogwarts perspective anyway, but I imagine all of the schools would agree."

She stared at him for a minute, certain she was hearing him wrong. Or misunderstanding him. Something.

"Are you encouraging me to write a book?"

"I am. I would encourage you to do anything you want, but you have a bright mind and I think you would approach something like Muggle Studies seriously and tactfully."

"It's something to think about."

"It is. Something I have thought about while we've been talking just now about your future. We've touched on your previous future. What about Harry? I didn't get the impression Harry thought of playing quidditch professionally before. What were his plans?"

"The same as me, I'm really not sure. He was so focused on staying alive. His first and second year I think he thought it was kind of … fun.  It was dangerous, but Voldemort wasn't here yet. Then third year with Sirius and finally having someone who was not the Dursleys. So I mean, maybe he would have played. From my memories it seems as if he was a natural. Like his father, I think?"

"Mm, yes, James Potter was quite good at quidditch."

She could tell that wasn't easy for him to say. Memories told her that he and James were not … fond of one another. That was a polite way of putting it. It still astounded her, despite those feelings Severus took Harry in. She didn't know for certain what she'd been thinking when she asked him not to let Harry go to the Dursleys. She was fairly certain her thought process hadn't been Severus taking him in.

"I'm just not sure he thought that far beyond defeating Voldemort. Viktor mentioned it to me in passing. His interest in playing, I mean. It makes some sense. He told me when we first arrived here that he'd likely talk to Harry for a while alone and that he suspected Harry wanted to ask him about what steps he'd need to take. Harry mentioned it last night, too. He may change his mind sooner than you think."

"He may. I think it makes sense, too. My concern, I guess is that he won't choose something else. That he'll want to make a career out of it. Not that there's anything wrong with playing professionally. I just know there are high hopes for him. I do admit it would be nice to attend some of his games and not have to represent Slytherin."

"That's actually very sweet."

"And if he was playing against Krum's team and you accompanied me."

"Two birds."

"Exactly!"

She chuckled. She didn't think he was really jealous of Viktor. Maybe a little, but she was pretty clear there was nothing but friendship between them. Lighthearted as he was right now. She hated to ruin the mood but she needed to know.

"Are you upset with me?"

"Upset with you? What could I possibly have to be upset with you about?"

"Sharing those memories."

"No, of course I'm not upset. Some of it was a bit overwhelming and, well, humbling. I can see why you wanted, nay needed, someone else to know. I'm glad you chose me. Just as I'm glad that you trusted me enough to give me that task."

That relieved her to no end. He might not have wanted to know. Not really. That he was okay with it made her feel better because she'd had to show him. She thought he'd be good with it. He was a curious person like she was and he knew what they had done. So it didn't seem unreasonable.

"Me, too," she said.

"If I hadn't met you that Saturday neither of us actually experienced but know happened do you still think that you would have?"

"I think so. I still believed you were on our side, had your reasons. I'm not sure what it said that I trusted you more than the headmaster."

"I can't say as I blame you based on what you showed me. I still can't fathom that you brewed polyjuice potion in your second year in a restroom's toilet, Hermione. I mean you mentioned it before showing me the memory, I believed you. I just, that was so risky."

"Yes, well, desperate times. What you didn't see in my memory was that it worked perfectly fine for Harry and Ronald."

"I would expect no less. Now, would you like to see my lab?"

"Yes," she said. "I suppose we should actually visit it since that's what we said we were doing."

His lips lifted into a smile. She liked seeing him smile almost as much as hearing him laugh.

"That we did."

"Have you actually done something to stirring rods?" she asked as she took his offered arm.

He scoffed as they left the Room. "No, as much as I might like to, they are quite perfect the way that they are."

"I thought not."

"You came with me anyway."

"Of course, I truly want to see your lab."

"I'd tell you again that makes you an odd witch, but admittedly I'd want the same thing."

"And I wanted to spend time with you."

"Your thoughts were very inline with mine then. How good for both of us."

She leaned her head against his shoulder with a soft sigh as she took in the stairs. She'd seen them in her memories, but it wasn't the same as being here.

"Has anyone ever gotten seriously injured on the stairs?" she asked.

"Severus?"

Severus' was stopped from answering her as to the stairs. He closed his eyes at the sound of his employer's voice. He had not expected to run into Albus this evening, which of course meant he should have presumed it would happen. It was just the way Albus worked. He felt Hermione's hand at his arm clutch just a bit tighter, so she hadn't expected it either it seemed.

What was it like to come face to face with this man, he wondered? Forget the treatment of Harry they both assumed the headmaster was aware of. He had sent teenagers out to hunt hideously cursed items without any formal instruction or detail as to their whereabouts or what to do with them. He didn't remember those events. She shared memories with him today. He remembered handling the objects, though, and the idea of someone like Hermione and his ward, as well as Ronald Weasley handling them made him want to hex the man.

"Albus," he said.

Most would think and say they were friends. Severus wouldn't say this was a lie, but was convinced even before Hermione shared the previous timeline's memories with him that no one was truly friends with Albus Dumbledore. Severus also didn't completely trust his employer, never really had.

He had never once mentioned having had second thoughts or feelings of guilt over the things he'd allowed the Marauders to get away with at his expense. Couple that with some of the … things Hermione had shared with him, and not just tonight either. Well, he firmly believed his feelings were not incorrect. He, of course, kept his opinion very deeply buried. He and Harry had a pretty good thing here.

Now that Harry was done with his schooling and had made it through safely and Voldemort had not returned. Well he could think about other opportunities. The reason for him staying at Hogwarts had been to keep Harry safe and out of the public eye as much as possible. Yes, Severus benefitted from that, too, but he firmly believed it was time for both wizards to start living a bit (which was the reason he encouraged Harry to play quidditch professionally).

Harry's education was completed. Unless he was going to become a staff member at Hogwarts, his time here was done. Not that Severus would kick him out of their quarters nor would Albus, but it was time.

With that completion of his education, Severus' protection and care of Harry Potter would technically be completed as well. He wasn't fool enough to believe their relationship would cease nor did he want it to, but the wizard's needs would no longer be the thing Severus needed to focus on.

It was an odd realization to come to. A good chunk of his life had been wrapped very firmly in with Harry's that it was hard to imagine him not being here.

Of course, Hermione choosing Edinburgh might encourage him to stay in Scotland for just a little longer but definitely he would start eyeing a possible future away from Hogwarts and teaching. He hadn't until now because truthfully he never really thought this day would come.

That his witch would be here. Just as he kept his house in Cokeworth, he stayed here on the off chance one day she'd come here.

He certainly hadn't expected her to show up at Malfoy Manor. That had truthfully in seventeen years never once entered his mind as a possibility.

Why would she? She had never once mentioned Draco in their conversations.

"I didn't realize you had a guest."

"A recent Ilvermorny graduate who is attending Harry's birthday festivities as a guest of Viktor Krum. She is a gifted potions student and wanted to see my lab. Miss Granger, may I present Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore."

"It's nice to meet you, Headmaster."

"And you, Miss Granger. We missed you here at Hogwarts, of course, but it seems Ilvermorny agrees with you. It is lovely to meet someone who takes an interest in their education even on their breaks."

"Well, I've graduated so it's not even a break, other than between Ilvermorny and college studies. However, I couldn't resist. Professor Snape is a good representative of your school, Sir," she said.

Albus chuckled. No doubt because this was the first time those words had ever come out of a visitor's mouth. Severus was not a good representative of Hogwarts most days with most people. Just this one.

"That is very good to hear, my dear. Enjoy your tour."

"What I've seen so far is very impressive."

"Good to hear."

"Did you need something, Albus?"

"No, Severus, I was honestly not expecting you to be here until tomorrow or Sunday so I was just doing some rounds."

"Ah, well, I'm only here temporarily. I will, of course, have to return Miss Granger to Malfoy Manor and will be staying there the rest of the weekend as planned."

"Of course. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Severus, Miss Granger," he said with a polite nod of his head.

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione said.

Severus watched as Hermione ran her hands over a table. He presumed it was the table she'd sat at while a student here in her original timeline.

"Is it strange to you?" she asked.

He scoffed softly at the ridiculousness of the question. What about any of this wasn't strange?

"I find a great deal strange, Hermione, you will have to be more specific if you expect an actual answer from me."

She stood then and walked to where he stood at the back of the classroom.

"Smart ass," she whispered, but she was smiling.

"Yes, well, evidently that's appealing to you."

"I don't find Draco appealing."

"That relieves me to no end," he said sincerely.

There was a part of him that thought Hermione and his godson would, in fact, be a good match. Nothing would come of that, even if Draco was attracted to her because while he might not have been raised to hate muggleborns he still wouldn't think it appropriate to procreate with one. And Draco Malfoy could not marry without the assumption of attempting to produce a Malfoy heir.

"Though mayhaps he's not as effective at being a smart arse."

"I'm not so sure about that," she said.

"Your question, Hermione?"

"You remember, you remembered all along. There was nothing really for you to forget, you just didn't experience things the same way I did from that point forward. You didn't really know that I did when you brought me here." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke.

"I had my suspicions. Your irritation with me while we were dancing was a bit puzzling and concerning. I couldn't very well tell you why I found you fascinating."

"You find me fascinating?"

"I have since the moment I first saw you, my Hermione."

She beamed at him, and he vowed to put that look on her face as frequently as he could for the rest of his days.

"You called me that," she whispered.

"Did I?"

"Yes."

It seemed she knew to be as cautious with her words as he did. The walls of Hogwarts had ears, and it wasn't just the ghosts and portraits either. The meddlesome headmaster had a way of knowing … things, the man simply shouldn't.

"I see."

She closed the distance between them to where she was virtually pressed against him. Not that he was complaining about this turn of events. He'd like her all manner pressed against him, preferably in far fewer layers than they both currently had on.

Another place and time, though.

"Did you give me money?" she asked.

He sighed heavily. He had hoped not to have to admit that. At least not yet. "You discovered that?"

"My parents did. Well, they discovered that they could deposit funds into an account at Gringotts here and could have it transferred right to Ilvermorny's account. They always left a little in my Gringotts account here in London in case of an emergency or something and I couldn't reach them. When they went to do that in 1991, open the account I mean, they discovered I already had one. A vault. They assumed it was done for me by the school, but I suspect that's not the case. They don't do that. I never had a Gringotts vault the first time."

"How?"

She blushed with a slight smile. She knew what he was asking her it seemed. How had her muggle parents gotten to Diagon Alley?

"Mm, my parents are squibs, you see. They fled to muggle London during the Wizarding War. They lived in fear that squibs would be persecuted next after muggles, afraid something would happen to them or me, and have lived as muggles since before my birth."

"And you were able to show them where and how to access Diagon Alley."

"Exactly," she said.

"Good thinking. I've wondered why no one seems to know."

"So, was that you?"

"It was me. If it's aided you somehow, I'm glad."

"I never needed it. I don't think they were told how much was in there and I've never needed to go to Gringotts there and ask about or access my funds. So I've never had reason to ask for a balance. It was a hugely generous amount, Severus. A bit of it helped get me here this weekend," she said. "Well, it helped get me clothes to wear for the weekend."

She gestured to the very flattering and appealing robes she was currently wearing.

"This is not how you usually dress?"

"Not for days on end during the summer! I'm an eighteen year old muggleborn who is usually alone at Ilvermorny but for the headmaster and Professor Brown. So I don't wear robes often and certainly not dress robes suitable for Malfoy Manor. I had one chance to make an impression."

So she had bought these items for him? Or at least with him in mind? That was one of the most flattering things he'd ever heard, if not the most. He'd suspected the items he'd seen her in were new.

That she had bought them for this trip was the only time anyone had ever dressed with the intent or desire to impress him.

"You only had to make an appearance to do that, Hermione."

"Again with the flattery."

"Some people are easy to say positive things about."

"And thank you, that was completely unnecessary. The vault I mean."

"Well, you helped me. We will discuss that more at another time and place," he said simply. "I have more than a few things to share with you on my end."

"I understand."

"We should get back," he said, glancing at his watch and realizing that it was after midnight.

"I know," she said, sounding disappointed that their evening had to end if he wasn't mistaken. He didn't want it to end, not really. He didn't want her to be gossiped about either.

"First, I realize that I neglected to get you any supper to eat. Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Well, I suppose we can take a little more time and since we have to return to my quarters anyway in order to apparate we can get some food first."

"Okay."

"You should have said something."

"I was enjoying the company. Food was not foremost on my mind."

"I am pleased to hear that."

The last time he'd seen her in her previous timeline was fresh on his mind, though.

She had been thin to the point of bordering on emaciated, haggard, and bloodied.

That was not a previous timeline to him. He still remembered it. It was a real memory for him.

He'd seen her, seen the toll the second war had taken on her. He never wanted to forget that picture, that memory, of what the war had done to her. He was certain she wasn't the only one, but they weren't his. This witch was his. He vowed with every breath in his body she would never go hungry or have to fight for her life again.

They ate and returned to Malfoy Manor where Severus walked her to the door of her guestroom.

"Good night, Hermione, thank you for allowing me to share a bit of myself with you."

"Thank you for sharing it," she said, reaching up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. "Good night, Severus. See you at breakfast I presume."

"Indeed you shall."

He made his way to his rooms after ensuring she got inside hers safely. His and Harry's rooms were on the other side of the house since he and Harry were considered part of the family rather than guests after all these years. She did, indeed, have significant charms in place, but they were nothing more than heavy duty silencing charms. He presumed to keep others from hearing her nightmares.

He wondered if she'd always had them or if they were new since the return of her memories. Would she be insulted if he asked? Would she be embarrassed to know the house elves told Lucius about the charms in place? He didn't want to cause her any discomfort.

He readied himself for bed, walked to the bookshelves his room contained, and selected a book to read for a bit before sleep overtook him.

He had just gotten into bed when what had to be the most beautifully intimidating patronus he'd ever seen flew into his room.

It was a thunderbird and it had to be one of the brightest, most corporeal patronus he'd been witness to. Truly, if he didn't know it was a patronus by the way it came through the walls he'd be hard-pressed to recognize it as such.

"Good night and thank you for a lovely evening, Severus," the glorious creature said, it's gigantic wing-span taking up most of Severus' room.

"Thank you, you are an appropriately beautiful and powerful creature for your mistress," he murmured while he drew his wand from the nightstand and cast his own patronus.

His white-tailed eagle formed, waiting for his message. "Please bid Hermione good night," he said and watched as his patronus left to deliver its master's message.

The thunderbird turned to leave, but Severus stopped it.

"Stay," he said, standing so that he could take a closer look at her impressive patronus.

He didn't think he'd need to do any reading before bed tonight.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com