TITLE: Hazy Shades
AUTHOR: Susan / apckrfan
E-MAIL
DISTRIBUTION: My site, AO3, FanFiction.net, LiveJournal.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters. They are owned by JK Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, etc. No profit is made from this fic.
RATING: FRT
SPOILERS: Everything, but canon divergent (Severus Snape lives)
SUMMARY: Hermione is having a hard time moving forward post-war and no one understands why. What she once found to be an impressive world is now just bland and she can't break the funk. A soul mark/soul mates fic.
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
DATE STARTED: July 2002
STATUS: Complete
WORD COUNT: 16,000 +/-
FEEDBACK: Please, I can't write better without it.
NOTES: A weird idea that came to me while driving home from vacation the end of July and Brandy (You're A Fine Girl) by Looking Glass came on the radio. This is my first real attempt at doing angst. I was thinking to make this longer, but my mind is just not on angst right now. So, a one-shot of them both being idiots to some degree.


July 2005

Hermione huffed, thumb grazing the marks on her chest that had been a source of irritation (not necessarily physical) for her since they showed suddenly on her seventeenth birthday. They had woken her up at the exact moment she'd been born with a burning sensation that coursed through her body almost violently. She hadn't known what was going on, but after experiencing curses other things she recognized magic was at work. She'd truly - until Bellatrix eighteen months later - never experienced pain like that in her life. When she first started studying about Hogwarts and magic when she was eleven. Well, she didn't really know about wars, dark lords, and curses. She hadn't envisioned there would be anyone who would actually use magic to invoke pain or evil.

There were times, even now at twenty-five she wished she could still have that innocent view of things. What a fool she'd been. Today, she was bored and feeling as if she really had no clue what she was doing anymore than she did at the end of the war seven years ago. Was it pathetic that it was the marks that made her somewhat uncertain? If she left Britain entirely would she ever find him? Or he her?

Lavender and Parvati had tried to help her the night the marks showed up, but Hermione had just wanted to be left alone. As she nor they had any idea what was wrong with her or happening they'd done as she asked. It had been … exhausting on top of the pain. It was the closest she'd come to missing a class on her own without being in the infirmary. She'd woken up late the following morning, having missed breakfast. Somehow, though, a meal was waiting for her so she didn't start her day starving on top of being tired, in pain, and her whole body throbbing from whatever the marks were.

Her favourites had been brought to her that morning with two pieces of bite sized Honeydukes chocolates she was fond of. That ruled out her roommates providing the food. None of them paid enough attention to know her food or chocolate preferences. Harry and Ron wouldn't know yet that anything had happened so it wasn't them either. Someone knew, though, that she would need this meal this morning and if she ever figured out who it was she would be sure to thank them. It definitely hit the spot and helped her get through her day.

A full year she was able to … pretend there was nothing different about her. Shirts and her robes hid the marks so no one saw them except her. Pretend that she didn't have permanent marks on her body that hadn't been caused by anything she was aware of. She'd been busy worrying about a war to research what they might be. They had quite literally magically appeared. No explanation. She was too scared to tell anyone, afraid it was something marking her as a muggle or residuals from Dolohov's curse or something. She couldn't waste time being poked and prodded by Madam Pomfrey or healers at St. Mungo's. Worse, she could have been sent home!

The ignoring stopped, though, when a matching amulet appeared around her neck on her eighteenth birthday (try explaining that to Ron and Harry in the middle of being on the run and hiding from everyone). At least that hadn't hurt. She could take it off nights for sleeping and bathing, but if she forgot to put it back on in the mornings it found its way back around her neck. It didn't matter if she left it in the tent when she was on watch or if she was away from their campground trying to buy food or supplies either. It found its way back around her neck.

Ron had explained to her what it was after he'd returned to them at Christmas when he saw her coming out of the bath once and the actual marks that matched the amulet. Evidently, the amulet itself hadn't registered to him as being anything special. She didn't blame him. It wasn't as if she told them about the marks or actually admitted the amulet just showed up. ("Oh, of course you've seen me wear this before…")

Things changed after that moment. Ron seemed to know that he would never have a chance with her. Hermione was pretty sure he'd ruined the possibility of a chance when he left them. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt more betrayed in her life.

She had looked the symbols up when they showed up on her body. They, and the matching amulet, were the runes for Odin's illusion rune for camouflage and deception as well as the symbol for warrior. She wasn't sure who she was deceiving - Voldemort aside - so she assumed the protection was for them to avoid detection.

The only plausible explanation that entered her mind was that the headmaster had done something. Especially when she agreed to search for the horcruxes with him. The headmaster had to know she would go with him. Why he hadn't told her was a bit baffling, but that was all that she could come up with. She didn't think of herself as much of a warrior either.

She just hadn't understood where they came from. Ron's explanation made sense and yet it didn't. Soulmates? Soulmarks? How absolutely barbaric! Did that mean she didn't have free will? It sure made Ron distance himself from her, though. Were the marks a representation of him? Whoever he was. Why would she be marked for someone who deceived? That didn't seem to bode well for them being trustworthy, and that was important to her.

Evidently soulmarks weren't always placed where others could see them, identifying the person as being someone's soulmate. So, the amulets came later to identify the witch or wizard as being spoken for. Not formally engaged, but clearly marked as spoken for.

Fat lot of good the runes had done her at Malfoy Manor.

And yet she'd escaped with her life, mostly unharmed. It certainly could have been far worse. She could have died! She'd been captured because of Harry's goof, not hers. So she couldn't say without a doubt that the rune hadn't done its job. She'd managed to not say where the sword was. On top of that, she realized Bellatrix might have something in her vault they needed. So, maybe it had worked? She'd never know. Or even know if the runes actually did anything to benefit her.

The day of the final battle at Hogwarts the pendant burned against her flesh at the side of her neck. So she now essentially had the warrior mark permanently etched just below her left ear, looking like an ever-present hickey that had gotten infected.

Life after the end of the war wasn't quite what she'd expected. She wasn't sure what she thought would happen, but not feeling as if she belonged or was wanted wasn't it. She floundered, something she never thought would happen to her.

She'd tried working at the Ministry after the war.

That hadn't worked. It was too public. Everyone gossiped about her love life since she didn't have one with Ron. For some reason, people presumed it was her fault not his (not that it was either one of their faults really). The brains couldn't keep a wizard. She was frigid. She was a lesbian. She had killed someone and Ron couldn't get beyond that. (Of course she had, along with several other students who had fought in the war.) And that wasn't even taking into account the gossiping about her performance at work. The hard time she was given by people because of the cleverest witch of her age moniker. She hadn't called herself that!

No one had told anyone about her soulmark. She didn't think it was anyone's business, and she didn't want every available wizard trying to convince her that he was her wizard. The information Ron had didn't really offer her insight into how she was supposed to find her soulmate. Rita Skeeter had to say something about Ron and Hermione not dating post-war, so she'd made it up. Hermione hadn't bothered correcting anything. What was the point?

Why was the magical world so adamant their witches and wizards get married before the age of twenty anyway? They lived longer, shouldn't that be an argument against rushing things!

It made it difficult to work where literally everyone was magical and knew her past. So, it didn't take long to determine that working at the Ministry just hadn't been what she wanted. Maybe with a little more space and time after the war and the memory of what idiots most of them had been she would have felt better about being there. Some had been under the Imperius. Those she could forgive and forget. Others, though, truly hadn't believed until it was too late.

Hogwarts wasn't appealing either. She was tempted when Minerva offered her a job, but she wanted to stand on her own two feet. If she was going to make it in this new wizarding world she'd fought for, she wanted to know it was through her own work and efforts. She didn't want handouts or favoritism. Any job Minerva found for her would have been as a favour not something Hermione actually earned or deserved.

The Ministry and Hogwarts out, she'd struggled a bit to figure out what she wanted to do.

So, she'd taken a job in the muggle port city Ullapool, Scotland as a bartender while she decided. Spring semester 1999, she started attending classes at the University of Edinburgh. She lived in a nearby magical town so was able to apparate to and from classes over the years from her house. Her boss was a wizard so she was able to apparate to and from work in the storeroom off his office days she needed to. No one seemed to question this arrangement. Or why they didn't always see her entering or leaving the bar.

She completed her undergraduate degree in Archaeology and Ancient History with a graduate degree in Ancient History. She just finished a second in Evolution of Language and Cognition a week ago. Her goal was to start around the area of Hogwarts since it was what she knew, and try to put together an actual history of things. A better timeline based on actual facts and correctly translated texts. She'd always felt there were huge pieces missing. She just hoped when she got to the point of doing so, Minerva would allow her unlimited access to the castle and its grounds.

For almost seven years she'd researched the runes on and off: where they'd come from and what they meant. Who decided such things? No one knew. Nothing documented suggested anyone had ever known. She'd hoped having access to some ancient historical texts might aid her. Perhaps it was a stupid reason to choose a major, but it was what it was.

She had a soulmate. She had no idea who it was, because she hadn't actually met him. A side effect of the runes marking her for a wizard. If the soulbond was not acknowledged the couple went through life essentially colour blind.

She could see more than just black, white, and grey but not much more. The grass, when healthy, was always an unimpressive green. Her Gryffindor scarf was just red and yellow, no different from her neighbour's yellow house or his red car. That hadn't started until after the final battle. It was about the time she left the magical world and started her first year at university that her world had gone essentially grey. Even now, she had brief moments: an hour or two at the most once or twice a month, where she saw everything.

Monte, her boss, told her that meant her mate was nearby.

Was he looking for her? Did he know what the drabness meant? Did he know who she was and was choosing to live his life that way? Making her live hers in such a fashion?

Monte had been informative, coming from an old Scandinavian wizarding family he'd recognized the runes on her amulet (and what they meant) instantly. They talked more than once about what it all meant. He had few facts to offer, but it was nice discussing it with someone who wasn't Ron. Even knowing she hadn't willingly gotten the marks she still got the impression he felt as if she wronged him somehow.

And he was also incredibly protective of her. She hadn't really tried to date since getting the rune tattoo until she moved here. No one in town asked her out anymore, hadn't in years. It was as if they knew something she didn't. She could date, but sex was pretty much out of the question. The marks on her chest throbbed the two times she'd allowed things to get even close to that end. One time should have been enough, but she had to know if it was what she'd been doing. She could have pushed through. She'd experienced worse discomfort, but that didn't seem like it would be conducive to a good sexual experience. So, she'd left it alone and hadn't tried again since.

Likely, no one was asking her out because word about her being a tease got around. Fortunately, the bar she worked at didn't get frequented by the type of men she'd date. They were sailors, fishermen, and she swore that even a few of them were modern day pirates.

Today she walked through the small port village she had grown familiar with, wondering where he was. The colours had been here for hours.

She wasn't going to complain. Instead, she took advantage of the rare reprieve from drabness and walked. She looked at everything, vowing to remember the colour of the pebble she'd just stepped on to the muggle candy wrapper Sean McAllister just crumpled up.

"Hello, Hermione," he said with a polite nod.

"Hi, Sean. How are you today?"

"Doing well. You on your lunch?"

She worked evenings from four o'clock to close Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Sunday she only worked until nine in the evenings because of her school schedule. She supposed that could change now that she wasn't in school any longer. So, lunch for her wasn't at the usual time most took theirs.

"I am," she said. "Just enjoying some air. Will we see you tonight?"

"You will," he said.

Sean was a local and a regular at Monte's especially lately as he was home for a few weeks due to getting injured, and a good tipper. Most were. They liked her. She wasn't sure why, but they did. Not all were old enough to be her father, but regardless of age they all seemed to treat her in that way. Protective, but not in an overbearing, they drove her nuts, way.

"Good," she said, bending over a bit to pet his mixed breed dog, Aksel, who'd come over by now to say hello, too. Today, she could see his mismatched eyes: one blue and one brown. Sean owned the local shoe repair store. His wife and son ran it when he was doing his usual work on boats. They did more than just shoes, too. Really fixing anything leather. Aksel was their faithful sidekick and guard dog. He did more sleeping than guarding, though, the rumour was.

"See you later," she said, drawing away from Aksel. She gave a polite wave and continued on her walk.

"I know that look," Monte said when she returned.

She was about five minutes late, but he never docked her. She usually made it up by being early or staying late and helping do extra at close. She also came into work around her school schedule whenever Monte was in a real bind even though when he'd hired her Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were to be her days off.

"It's been," she said, glancing at her wristwatch. "Three hours."

He nodded, understanding what she meant.

"I wonder why he's been here for so long. It's not usually this long, is it?" he asked.

"No," she said. She wasn't sure what it meant.

She went to the back to punch in from her lunch and wash her hands, taking a moment to appreciate the difference she was able to see between the actual soap and the suds, before returning to work.

There were a few times when the ability to see in colour pushed closer to two hours that she felt as if she was being watched. She wasn't sure why, if it was just wishful thinking on her part that he knew who she was and wanted to find her.

And yet, eight years into this he hadn't. So either he did know her and didn't like what he knew. Or he didn't know either and she was imagining things. She hadn't told Monte about that part, feeling as if she was being watched once in a while. He was already very protective over her. He didn't want her insisting on walking her to the apparition point the nights she chose to walk for a bit after work. She couldn't go home and just fall asleep anyway, so sometimes the fresh air helped in falling asleep when she did get home.

She hoped the rest of her night would go by without incident.

She probably shouldn't have hoped that because of course it didn't. She'd decided to walk to an apparition point tonight. There were a couple of options in town here (it surprised her at first because the town wasn't that large, but she supposed magical people docked here and wanted to get places). It was a nice night and for some reason the colours she'd been able to see so vividly earlier in the day hadn't completely faded to the bland hues she normally experienced. She wanted to take in the night sky. To see the brightness of the stars and moon. These were things she did not get to enjoy usually. The effects of her mate being nearby had usually faded by the time she was off work.

It was summer, which meant she had a bit of a break from classes. If she decided to pursue a third graduate degree. She was leaning toward not, at least for now. That meant a trip or two was possible. She could blame thinking about where she'd go and how much Harry would argue with her on who would pay for what. Well, she wasn't paying attention as she should have and was surrounded by a group of young adult men.

They looked old enough to get into Monte's but not quite the clientele that were regulars there. Monte's catered to fishermen and the like who docked their boat and were looking for a place to unwind before heading out again. They didn't get many locals, and the locals they did get were fishermen themselves or their friends who preferred the company at Monte's. It was one of the reasons Hermione liked the job. There were a few young enough for her to date if she was interested, but for whatever reason (Monte she imagined) no one ever asked. That was good. It meant she could go to work and not be bothered. She didn't want to get involved with someone who would be gone all of the time either.

Before she could even process what was happening her hands were behind her back and something was over her head, preventing her from seeing anything. The last thing she'd seen was the apparition point, just down the block. If she hadn't dawdled. If she hadn't taken a second look at Mrs. Kleiner's flower garden. Could she have avoided this?

She was shoved into the back of a vehicle. Three were around her, holding her in place. She tried to focus on what she was hearing instead of the fear that was coursing through her at the moment. The sound of the road. There. That was the sound of water. And there, a boat horn. That wasn't saying much in this town, though. No dogs barking. No other cars. No church bells.

She gave a muffled scream as one of them touched her, which caused more than one of them to laugh. They'd stopped now and were trying to get her out of the car. She wasn't being cooperative. She wished she'd seen how many there were. She didn't want to risk using magic in case she didn't get them all and someone … saw his friends suddenly collapse. Using magic in a moving vehicle when she was restrained didn't seem overly smart either.

They sat her none too gently on the ground. Cold. Wet. Cement. Wet, yes, but not as if it was against a dock or anything, but like it had been sprayed down. Funny that she knew the difference. It smelled different, though.

"What are we going to do with her now that she's here?"

"Monte will pay good money for her. He's sweet on the chit. He tells everyone she's already married so they'll leave her alone."

He was not and would absolutely not pay good money for her. Harry would, but that was about it. And then her mind went back to what they'd said. Did he really tell people she was already married? She'd never heard him say that, but it didn't mean he didn't. Why would he do that? She knew it was not because he liked her. He was her friend, but he'd never been more than that.

"I still say we should have some fun with her while we're waiting for him to pay up."

"No!" This was the voice of someone who appeared to be in charge. She'd heard his voice more than once on the way here, and the others seemed to listen to him. "Not until we know he's not going to pay."

She swallowed. Well, what the hell was she supposed to do now, unable to see anything. Without use of her hands. Did she know any spells that could cast a wide enough net as to get them all? Maybe, but she went back to the fact that she wasn't sure how many there were or where they were all standing. Wandless and wordless. Well, she wasn't sure it would work well. It had been years since she'd needed to cast any defensive spells. And then she'd have to worry about having violated the Statue of Secrecy. That was all she needed: the Daily Prophet running an article about her letting muggles know about magic.

The blood was ringing in her ears and she was starting to hyperventilate, which would do her no good. She did not escape Malfoy Manor and the war only to be raped or whatever they planned on doing with her here.

She swore to God and Merlin that if she got out of this she'd apparate from Monte's office from now on. No exceptions.

Worst case scenario, if all else failed, she'd use her bluebell flames and start a fire. Last resort because with her hands behind her back she'd catch fire and they could leave her here to die to save themselves. She could put them out, but then they'd see her alive and wonder how she survived being on fire. And how she'd suddenly caught on fire.

They left her alone for the most part. She could hear them talking, but couldn't decipher most of what they were saying as it sounded like they were on the other side of a room, or maybe there was a wall between where they were and she was. She didn't know.

She tried to remain quiet, working to loosen the binds around her wrists. Think. Why couldn't she think of any spell that might help in this case. Something to get her hands free. If she could do that, she could get the thing over her head off and at least see what and where she was dealing with. She didn't need her wand if she could see to focus.

Some war hero she was!

She had no idea how much time went by when she heard the sounds of a struggle. Fighting. They weren't coming toward her so she took a breath in relief at that.

"Holy shit, it's Batman," someone said.

"There is no such …"

She heard some screams and grunts, sounds of thuds that she assumed were people hitting the ground. Soon there was silence. Whoever had come to her rescue was still there. She could hear him (?) breathing. She could feel him.

He was there. In front of her now. He was stealthy so she hadn't heard him approach, but she knew it. She felt him.

"Could you, um, help me? Please?" she asked, sounding far braver than she felt just then. What if whoever this was was worse than the others had been?

Finally, her hands were freed, followed by the hood.

The first thing she noticed was that all of those colours she'd been missing for years were as vivid as they'd ever been perhaps in her life. She'd attribute it to being able to see at all so suddenly. She didn't think that was the reason, though.

It made her wonder if there'd always been some … drabness even before the runes had shown up.

The second thing was that Severus Snape was standing there, dressed all in black. Looking very menacing. She could understand with his all black robes, hardened stare of a man who'd seen a lot of shit the past twenty-five or so years, and the billowyness that just seemed to follow him everywhere why he'd be thought of as Batman.

"Um," she said, thoroughly confused as to why Severus Snape was here to begin with. "Thank you." It seemed rude not to say that.

He huffed, clearly expecting more from her than that.

"You are all right?"

"Yes," she said.

He huffed again. Evidently that was not the answer he was seeking.

"You are … unharmed?"

"Yes," she said.

He arched an eyebrow with a shake of his head. Did he really expect her to be chatty after this?

"Good."

She had a million questions running through her mind. She came back to one, though, that seemed imperative she ask.

"How did you know?"

"You are not practiced in occluding. I felt your distress. I have not felt it to that level in years so I knew I needed to intervene."

"Felt my …"

She trailed off then. It dawned on her. It was him. The colours brighter than they'd ever been at this precise moment. With him here. She'd chalk it up to stress and adrenaline that it hadn't occurred to her until he'd said that.

If he felt her distress that meant he knew before this moment it was her and had done nothing for eight years. The first few she could understand. She was a student, the war, the trials, and recuperating. But the past two or three?

She glanced around, ensuring all of the men in question were unconscious. She presumed he'd alter their memories.

"Miss…"

She left then, leaving him to clean up. She couldn't … deal with this tonight. God, he'd known who she was. For years. That was what he meant by not feeling her heightened level of distress. She found herself in the backyard of Grimmauld Place. She didn't go inside right away, making her way to the stoop and sitting on a step there. Harry would know someone was here and come to look for her.

Sure enough, within ten minutes he was there with a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking the wine.

"I wasn't sure the reason behind the visit."

She burst into tears then before she was even able to take a sip of the wine.

"Hey," he said, settling an arm around her and drawing her to him. "What's going on?"

She blubbered crazily for a solid ten minutes. It made sense in her head, but she was sure none of it did to him.

"I didn't understand a word of that."

She laughed then that he'd said exactly what she'd just been thinking. She leaned closer against him and he hugged her tight.

"Okay. Hey. You don't have to say anything. Whatever it is, I'm sorry."

She nodded against him, letting the familiarity of Harry wash over her. God, she loved him. Why couldn't her soulmate be him? She didn't love him like that, but at least they had friendship to build off of. Instead she got Severus Snape who evidently knew she was his soulmate and done nothing about it. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

She must have fallen asleep against him because the next thing she knew she was in what was her bedroom in Grimmauld Place. And the sun was shining through the window.

She went down for breakfast after cleaning herself up and he asked no questions. He merely nodded, gesturing to the table full of her favourites.

And a small piece of chocolate. She smiled a bit at that, biting back the tears as she thought back to these chocolates being left for her the morning after she got the marks. This one wasn't the same as those had been, but it was tasty. And appreciated. He tried!

They made small talk over breakfast. She couldn't help but think it was appropriate somehow that they were both alone. Harry had joked if her mystery soulmate hadn't shown up by the time she was thirty he'd marry her.

Ron had made the same offer, but it wasn't nearly as funny coming from him. Harry was clearly joking. She was pretty sure Ron hadn't been, and Ron made it seem as if he'd be doing her a favour.

And now, knowing that Severus had known who she was yet hadn't sought her out.

Well, maybe Ron was right if even her soulmate didn't want her.

How long had he known?

How long had he realized she was his soulmate and said and done nothing?

She knew she wasn't gorgeous, but she thought she was more than sufficient in the looks department. She could do more to make herself look prettier she supposed, but she didn't want to most days. It just wasn't who she was. She preferred someone like her for who she was and if she wanted to dress up, like her that way, too.

She was certainly smart enough.

So, what was it?

Lily?

God, was he still in love with the witch?

Never mind what in the hell did it mean that she was the soulmate of someone who loved another witch. How was that possible? How unfair would that be? To both of them.

And that made her realize that she couldn't talk to Harry about this because he'd feel caught. He felt an odd sort of … loyalty to Severus Snape. He'd gone out of his way to ensure he got the elder wand, deviously so that the wand would think Severus defeated Harry. He also seemed to feel guilt for not just the way his father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had treated the wizard but his mother, too.

"I have to go," she said quickly.

"Okay. You can stay as long as you want. You know that you can."

"I know, and I appreciate that. Thank you, Harry. I'm sorry," she said, standing and kissing him on the cheek.

She left then, making her way to campus. She didn't have anything to do there, but she was well known by now in her department so none of the professors ever questioned her showing up there. Sometimes she talked with them, sometimes she just wandered.

Today was a wandering day.

Every time she looked at something she wondered what seeing it with Professor Snape nearby would be like. Pictures in windows that had to be more colourful than she saw them as. Tears started anew at the realization that she may very well never see the world the way she was meant to.

She returned to Ullapool and went to a local favourite restaurant to treat herself to lunch. She didn't do this often, preferring to spend her money on other things. She couldn't say whether she was surprised to see Monte approach her table.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Why?" she asked.

"I heard you had some trouble last night."

She shrugged.

"Don't want to talk about it. I get it. As long as you're okay."

"I am."

"Snape made sure of it then?"

"I'm sorry?" How did he know he'd showed up last night?

"Snape. No offense, but neither of you are Batman material. He's scary, don't get me wrong. It's just in a way very different from Batman."

She snorted. It dawned on her, he was talking about her former potions professor as if he knew him.

"You know Severus Snape."

"Yes," he said in a tone that told her asking him that was a ridiculous question.

"How?"

"What do you mean how?"

"You're not from Britain, Monte."

"Didn't realize I had to be."

She regarded him, hand instinctively clutching the amulet. "You know."

He nodded simply.

"And said nothing. Knowing all those times I saw colours it meant he was nearby. And let me wonder…"

He shrugged. "At first…"

"At first!"

"Yes. He came to me when he first noticed that you were working there. You evidently hadn't seen him."

"Why?"

"He wanted to ensure you were safe. That anyone knew to mess with you would be to mess with him. Again, scary and powerful wizard. I did what he asked."

She scoffed, standing from the spot she'd enjoyed for several years when she'd stopped to eat here.

"I didn't know you well yet. You were just an employee. Someone famous I wasn't even sure was going to stick around or work out. I didn't think you'd last a month working for me. Someone more famous and, no offense, more scary came in and asked me to ensure you were safe." He shrugged.

"Monte!"

"Then you started telling me things and I could think of no other reason why someone like him would care whether someone like you was safe."

She shook her head, stepping away from him.

"I can't right now, Monte. You lied to me for nearly seven years."

"I didn't lie. I didn't know for a fact it was him. I only surmised it when I heard descriptions of Batman by the six that went after you. Which, what were you thinking! He dresses exclusively in black, and I'm a decently capable wizard but I would not want to meet him in a warehouse at night when he was angry."

"It was a nice night. I went for a walk. I've done it before! I didn't realize I had to ask you for permission. I have to go, Monte."

"Hermione."

"No, you don't get to lie to me, to withhold something huge from me, and then expect me to be all right with that. This isn't ‘whoops, honey, there really isn't a Santa Clause' stuff. I lived that already."

"I think that's his fear, Hermione."

She couldn't. She left the area then. He let her as he could have followed. She made it to one of the approved spots and apparated.

She went home, packing a bag with a few things, and left. She sent Harry a patronus so that he wouldn't worry about her. He'd worry anyway, but the patronus would go toward letting him know she was really okay.

Alone, she took a crisp wrapper out of her bag and in a matter of minutes it was an unauthorized portkey. She took a deep breath, focusing for a moment before she activated the portkey and let it pull her away.

She found herself in Germany, exactly where she'd intended on going. She made her way along the path that would take her to the home she was visiting.

She knocked, dropping her hand and smiling when she heard movement from within.

Septima Vector opened the door, clearly surprised at seeing Hermione unannounced on her doorstep. She was one of a few people who knew of this home. It was a secret Hermione guarded well.

"Hermione," she said.

"Hello, Septima."

"Come in," she said.

Hermione stepped inside, feeling the wards her former Arithmancy professor had in place.

"Thank you."

"Are you okay? Clearly you're not. You've been crying?"

She held up the amulet she'd received on her eighteenth birthday. "Did you know?"

"Know what, Hermione? I remember when you came to see me after the war with that. We talked about what it meant on a logical level, but I never did anything further with our conversation."

"You don't know who it is then?"

Her eyes widened. "No. I asked you once or twice if you wanted me to …"

"I know. I'm not talking about that. I know you have had more important things than to run equations that I didn't ask you to run. I was asking if you - if any of the other professors - knew it was Severus Snape all along."

She couldn't fake the shock that was displayed on her face. She wasn't that practiced at deception. She just wasn't. It was one of the reasons Hermione had willingly become her friend post-war. Her relationship with Minerva was different. More mother-daughter. Septima was older, but not as old as Minerva and their friendship was not formed from a familial-like bond.

"No, I didn't know. I didn't even know what the amulet was until you told me, Hermione. I take it you recently found out."

She told her about the previous night's events as Septima prepared the both of them tea.

"That had to have been frightening."

"I've lived there for almost seven years. I never felt my safety was at risk before."

"Well, if I can offer some advice. First of all, don't do that again. I know it's their fault not yours, but please keep yourself safe. Second, if you do, use magic first and think later. There is no one who's going to believe you acted too fast. Well, there might be a few, but they're in Azkaban."

Hermione chuckled softly at that. Her friend wasn't wrong, but she'd truly been too shocked right away to think of disarming or stunning them. And then it was too late. Seven years of … nothing, a relatively peaceful existence had made her soft. She wasn't used to being onguard or looking around every corner for evil.

"I just. I feel so humiliated."

"Why?"

She parted her top enough so that Septima could see the rune tattoos. "I'm someone's soulmate and he doesn't want me! Every once in a while I get a glimpse of what it would be like, colours everywhere. Vivid and real. And he leaves! He knew where I was and left me to live in drabness."

"Or," her friend said, pausing. She recognized that tone. She'd heard it in her class more than once when she was going to drive home a point. "He doesn't think that he deserves to live in anything but drabness and your consequences haven't entered his mind."

"I don't believe that for a minute. I've read the Prophet …"

She shook her head, settling her hand over Hermione's. "Do you really think he's dating all of those witches, Hermione? Really? You of all people know better. I don't. Yes, Rita Skeeter was the worst of them, but they have others who will write anything to get headlines. Have you seen him at one ball or anything over the past six years?"

Well, no, she hadn't. She just assumed that finally free to do as he pleased he was taking the opportunity to live a bit. No one could fault the wizard for doing so. But no, not that she claimed to know him well, she didn't see him loving and leaving a string of witches. He didn't seem the type. Until yesterday she could honestly have said she wouldn't have blamed him if he did. Today changed everything, though, because he'd known! Since when, though?

"I just don't know what to do! He hasn't said one word to me since I offered testimony on his behalf to Kingsley until last night. I have no idea how to even find him. He evidently does me. I don't know when he even realized it was me. How fair is it for him to make a decision like that without consulting me? Who thought it was a good idea to make it so people didn't see fully in colour if they didn't meet up with their soulmate? The whole thing is barbaric."

"And yet, here you are…"

Hermione huffed, shaking her head. She stared out the window Septima's small living room offered. It was little more than a cottage, really. She came here to clear her mind. She kept nothing serious here as far as reading material. Hermione thought it was a smart way of doing things. If she ever wanted to picture what Hansel and Gretel's cottage would look like, this was it.

"Would you talk with him?" Septima asked.

"How!? He hasn't spoken to me. Why should I?" And say what anyway? Why have you been avoiding me for years?

She smiled slightly. She wasn't amused exactly, but she was in a way. "Maybe he wasn't sure you were ready. There is an age difference, Hermione. It sounds as if he truly thought you were in danger last night."

"I was in danger at Malfoy Manor, too. He didn't come for me then!"

Septima was silent and Hermione knew why. That was an incredibly insensitive thing to throw at his feet. She knew it. It wasn't his fault. But Dobby! Harry had sent for him because of her!

"Yes, you were. Hermione. Likely, given the time he was occluding so severely he may not have truly known the danger you were in. He had to hide everything. You weren't at Hogwarts, Hermione. I know the three of you had your own troubles. You did not have to pretend not to care that students, the very students you swore to protect, were getting tortured and taught to do dark magic. I am, however, confident that if Harry hadn't thought of a way, Severus would have figured something out. He wouldn't have wanted you dead. Do not hold him responsible for the role he was bound to follow."

Hermione huffed. She knew that. She knew that if anyone had been aware they'd been captured, where Luna and the others were, that something would have been done. This wasn't about logic or facts, right now. She just found out something huge. She was allowed to be emotional and irrational, wasn't she?

"I'm not. He hates me. This has to be someone's idea of a cruel joke. It can't be him! It just can't be!"

"And yet you say the colours were as vivid as they've ever been last night."

She huffed again. "Yes," she murmured.

"Send for him, Hermione. Talk to him."

"I am not going to chase after him as if I'm desperate…"

"I don't think anyone could ever view you as that."

"Really. I just what? Send him a patronus?"

"You could. If he doesn't show. Well, then you'll know."

"And know that I have to go through the rest of my life seeing drab, dingy things."

"Well, if you never contact him you'll have to do that anyway."

She was right.

"Did anyone know, do you think?"

"I doubt they did, no. Assuming he knew during the war, he would not have risked telling anyone. Like casting a patronus, it would have been a reflection of his true leanings that he had an active soul to mark with someone else's mate."

Oh. She hadn't thought of that at all. She sighed, running a fingertip along the rim of her teacup.

"And truly, Hermione, you're thinking about you. And I get that. This is very personal for you. However, it's personal for him, too. You are twenty years younger than him. You were his student. And then you weren't his student, but he has memories of what some students went through on his watch. And likely, yes, he would feel as if he couldn't protect you during your time of need. He is a loyal man, and whether you knew who he was or not, he might think you would hold that against him when his hands were tied. You know things about him that others do not I'm presuming because you were privy to viewing his memories."

"Yes."

"He is a very private man and may see the fact you know these things as a hindrance to you liking him. Or wanting to get to know him to find out if you could like him. You are also best friends with Lily's son. Those are just some of the obstacles I might think of as an objective observer. And your friend."

She was quiet, thinking over that. She hadn't really thought about all of this from his perspective. Why would she? She didn't know it was him until last night! Septima raised some valid points. Still. The war had been over for years!

"Thank you," she said.

Septima reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand. "You are welcome. And you are welcome here anytime."

"I know. I'm sorry it's been a while." How long had it been? Last summer, maybe.

"You have been busy with school, nothing less than I expect from you so I understand."

"I'm done for now, I think. My parents will be thrilled about that," she said with a light laugh. "It's hard going to Hogwarts."

"It can be, you are not the only one things like that are difficult for. Just remember that," Septima said.

"Of course you know that, too."

From there they talked of other things: Hermione's studies, Septima's work, the people they knew.

Eventually, it was time for her to get back. She'd taken too much of Septima's downtime.

There was an owl waiting for her when she returned home. She found a treat for it, petting it lightly on the head before taking the letter from it and sending it on its way.

It's time we talk. I looked for you today to no avail. Meet me at the docks tomorrow morning. My boat is the Marsh Mallow. If nine o'clock is too early, send a response back with a better time. ~Severus Snape

Well, she'd already let the owl go, but nine o'clock wasn't a bad time for her.

She read the letter a second time, chuckling softly at the name of his boat.

He had a boat?

Why did that both surprise and yet not surprise her?

She set the letter aside, wondering why he wanted to talk to her now. And what he wanted to say. He probably wanted to tell her to stop bothering him. As if she knew she was communicating with him at all.



The next morning came and she walked to the docks, heading in the direction of the private boats versus the commercial ones. She didn't see Severus Snape working on a boat with a bunch of other men. She didn't think that bit of his persona was fake.

She'd dressed carefully with a possible boat ride in mind. She found his boat. It was large, but not excessively so.

She opened her mouth to call out, and wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. He'd signed his letter Severus Snape, but she'd never in her life called him that. He was no longer her professor and addressing him that way seemed wrong given the reason for this visit.

"Hermione," she heard a voice from behind her. She spun on her heel, eyes widening as she recognized Jasper Monroe.

"Hello, Jasper." She tilted her head a bit, regarding him. When he was in port, he was usually one of the ones to close Monte's down. To say she was surprised to see him up and about at nine o'clock in the morning was an understatement.

"Just got in this morning," he said, as if he could read her mind. "Going to stock up on supplies and then I'll sleep for a while before heading to Monte's."

"Ah," she said, with a knowing nod.

"Here to see your man then," he said, pointing at the boat she was standing in front of. "Between you and me, some of Monte's customers have bets on whether a man actually exists. A couple of us want to find out who he is so we can have a talk with him about keeping a lady like you waiting for years."

"Oh, I'm…" She knew she was blushing profusely at that.

"She is," came his voice from behind her. She spun around again, wondering where he'd come from. He hadn't been standing there a moment ago.

She scowled and he smirked. Smirked! She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him do it before now. At least not a smirk of amusement. She'd seen a smirk of disdain and frustration from him.

"See you later then, Hermione."

"Yes," she said, regarding Jasper again. "Be safe."

"Always."

"I don't have a man," she said.

"If you say so," he said. "Are you coming aboard or are we going to air our statute violating secrets out here for all to hear?"

She regarded his boat and he huffed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not going to abscond with you, Hermione. If I'd wanted to do that I could have before today at any time without someone seeing me interact with you beforehand."

He had a valid point. She took his offered hand and stepped aboard. She didn't miss the … spark that jumped between them when they touched.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Thank you."

He prepared the boat to leave, acting as if he hadn't just felt what she had. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe it was just one-sided. Because he was occluding? She eyed him, wondering if he was at this moment. And yet, he must not have been if he was able to sense the danger she was in last night. She remained quiet as she watched him.

She hadn't taken the time last night to actually see what he looked like. She did now. She wondered how many had been able to just sit and watch him do things before. She doubted many did.

He was lean but not too thin as he was when she was a student. That made her wonder how many meals he'd missed while she was a student. Due to other activities or because he was too injured to do so.

He was muscular. She imagined he had been when she was a student, too. She'd just never seen him out of his robes to notice. This was accentuated by his actions as he moved the ropes and such. He looked … comfortable here, doing this.

He was tan. As in clearly he spent a lot of time outdoors, under the sun. On this boat? Somewhere else?

His hair was longer than she remembered. greying a bit, but not in a way she found unbecoming (as if he had a choice in the matter).

And she'd never realized until today just how black his eyes were.

"I have removed the anti-apparition charm from my property when we get there so if you really feel the need you can leave whenever you please."

"Okay," she said. Was he planning on her needing to leave?

"I just don't want you to believe you are … stuck. My home is rather isolated. I swore I wasn't going to … interfere."

"I'm sorry?"

"In your life. In the path you took."

"Yet you told Monte to…"

"I did. I will not lie and say that I did not. I may have encouraged him to drop the hint that you are spoken for." He gestured with his head to the amulet she wore. "That the necklace you wear is from him, which is the reason you do not take it off."

"I can't!"

"I am aware," he said.

She narrowed her eyes, regarding him.

"Do you have one?"

"I do," he said.

There was something she hadn't thought of. That must have been … difficult to him, showing up when it had right in the thick of things.

"Have you known all along?"

"Yes," he said.

"But…"

"Before you get upset with me nearly nine years later, I only know - knew - because Poppy mentioned it to me, in passing the following morning. Evidently your roommates were concerned for you and reported your discomfort to her. She told me, wondering if there were any potions to offer you. As my marking occurred the same night and I knew from my … position that it was your seventeenth birthday. I presumed. I didn't closely investigate, but I knew."

She tilted her head then. She hadn't realized her roommates had told Madam Pomfrey, or anyone for that matter. She must have been more out of it that night than she realized. "Did you send breakfast to me?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn't expecting that question. She didn't know him well nor would she claim to be able to read him. She could tell that she'd surprised him with that.

"I did," he admitted. It took him a moment to do so. She supposed that must have been odd for him to do. She was a student. He had a role to play. If anyone had seen or heard him doing that it could have been bad. "I did not hand deliver it, but knew you would rest and wake up thinking you missed breakfast and the start to your day. So I suggested to Poppy and Minerva they ensure that your breakfast was there for you. I may have mentioned your favourites and the chocolates would aid you in recuperating. No offense, but this," he said, tapping on the same spot on his chest as her marks were, "was rather inconsequential compared to the cruciatus. And I apologize. I forgot momentarily that you have first-hand experience with both as well. It was not my intention to be insensitive."

"Thank you. For the breakfast I mean."

"You are welcome. Soulmarks don't happen often, so I'm afraid the staff were all woefully unprepared. Probably for the best. They would have distrusted me more than they did if they knew. I didn't need them thinking I was doing something with you I shouldn't have. And, well, it would have made them doubting my loyalties difficult."

"Oh," she said.

She'd never thought of that. By the time she realized what the marks and amulet were, she'd been gone from Hogwarts so it hadn't occurred to her that he might suffer for being her marked mate.

"How did you explain it to … him?"

He snorted. "The amulet stayed at Hogwarts whenever I could. I told him that they were tattoos I got." He trailed off here, shaking his head, and looking away from her. She saw … sorrow in his eyes, though. "It went with my pathetic story of being infatuated with a dead woman for years. I suppose I should apologize for that as well, invoking her name for something that didn't involve her and instead was what most would construe as a gift involving you."

She didn't know what to say to that so said nothing. She hadn't expected him to be so forthcoming. What were his ruins, she wondered?

After a few more minutes, probably twenty or so, he was docking the boat again. She regarded the area.

"Welcome to my home," he said as he offered her his hand to help her off the boat.

"The island is your home?"

He scoffed. "Not quite, but it may as well be. Oddly, the thirty other inhabitants felt the need to sell over the past five to seven years. And no one wants to live here," he shrugged.

"Sneaky," she said. He was causing that. He didn't have to say so, but he was.

"Yes, well, an island with thirty other families or no other families. I will choose no others every time."

"And no one finds it strange you remain?"

"I think they've sort of forgotten anyone remains."

"Mm," she said. Also, no doubt his work.

"How long did this take?" she asked. This was in response to a door that appeared out of nowhere and led them directly, apparently, to his home.

"Not long," he murmured. "I really have nothing but time anyway."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting from a house that Severus Snape lived in. She'd heard … stories of his childhood home from Remus and others. So, this charming yet masculinely decorated domicile hadn't been it.

"What do you do?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I brew potions."

"And?"

He chuckled softly. "I sell them. That's what brings me to Ullapool at least twice monthly. My reputation precedes me, so buyers meet me. They in turn sell my products. People like Poppy get their supplies sent directly to them with no middleman."

"I see," she said.

"I never realized until now how … bright this room is."

This was said about a solarium he'd led her to off of the kitchen. The furniture was white wicker and there were floral cushions on the seats that were primarily … pink. Very un-Snape-like. And quite different from the rather simplistic, masculine decor from the rest of the house she'd seen leading to this room.

"No one else has been here?"

"No, you are the only one who knows where I live."

"Huh," she said.

"Sit, please.

She did.

Silence.

She had no idea what to say. He'd invited her here so she assumed he had something on his mind.

"You are renting, correct?"

What was he asking her?

"My home? Yes."

"Good."

"Okay," she said, scrunching her nose in confusion. Silence. "Why is that good exactly?"

"Well, then you can move in here without issue."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not implying anything untoward, Hermione. I have four bedrooms…"

She tilted her head, biting her tongue before she said something wrong. Except he seemed to be suggesting…

"Wait. So you've brought me here not to talk about our soulmarks and what they mean but instead to offer me a room?"

He stared at her and she thought for a moment she might be crazy.

"Yes," he said. "I mean, you know…"

"So you want a roommate…"

"Well, no," he said.

"A tenant?"

"No, I wouldn't want either of those things ideally. I presume you enjoy seeing the world as you should be able to see it." He paused, regarding her. "Perhaps not."

She was confused and angry. More than just a little bit. He'd known for almost nine years who she was and this was what he said to her when she finally found out?

"So you brought me here to basically tell me I either live the rest of my life in drabness or spend my life here as … what? Your tenant?"

"I thought the privacy might appeal to you. I presume that's why you work and pursue your education among muggles but live in a magical town."

She stood then.

"I think I would have preferred if you'd just stayed away, Professor Snape."

With that, she took him at his word that his anti-apparition charm was not in effect at the moment and she spun away.

She arrived back in Ullapool and walked to Monte's. She was no less angry than she had been leaving his house. Of all the nerve!

"I quit," she said.

"Hermione," he said, cautiously.

"No, I quit. I'm leaving. I'm done."

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. Reality happened," she shrugged. "I'm finished with school. It's time."

"Hermione. If he…"

"Boyfriend troubles," Percy, one of the regulars who was nothing like the other Percy she knew, said.

"Are you going to tell me why everyone thinks I have a boyfriend?"

"Um," he said, gesturing to the amulet. "Everyone knows that's from a man who isn't ready to call you or Ullapool home yet."

"So they think I'm a pathetic, lovesick woman who's sat here waiting for nearly seven years for someone to make up his mind?"

"Well," he said.

She tugged the amulet off, slamming it on the bar. It would be back around her neck tomorrow so it was just for dramatic effect she did it. Monte knew that the same as she did.

"Goodbye, Monte. You can send my last check to Harry's address. I'll get it."

"Hermione."

She walked to the back then, going to the small cubby she had that was as close to a locker as Monte provided his employees. She collected the few things she had in it: a book, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, and an extra pair of socks and shoes in case the ones she was wearing got vomited on.

"Hermione," he said from the doorway.

"I'm sorry to just up and leave. I swore I wouldn't do it, but it's just time."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he said. He walked to her then, offering her a hug. She accepted it, falling into his arms.

"He wants me to live with him."

"That's bad?" he asked.

"As a tenant. A roommate. Because he presumed I want to see the colours. What does that even mean?"

"Oh," he said.

"Nothing about our soulmarks or anything."

"Well, I don't get the impression he's an overly chatty or emotional fellow."

She snorted. "That's an understatement. Anyway. It's time for me to figure out what I want to do with this drab life I'm going to have to live. I sure as hell am not going to be his roommate."

"Nor should you," he said. He brushed away the few tears that clung to her cheeks. "He is going to come looking."

"I don't care." She leaned in then, kissing his cheek. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome. You keep me posted, drop me a letter once in a while so I know you're okay. No return address necessary if you don't believe I'll keep the information to myself."

"I will."

She went to her flat then. With a few waves of her wand and the old beaded bag she'd used years ago, everything was packed up and ready to go. She took the time to cast cleaning charms as well. She'd send her landlord an owl when she settled, letting them know it was now vacant.

From Edinburgh she took a muggle airplane to Bulgaria. She didn't want to deal with a portkey and, well, the time on the plane was good for her. A good reminder that she had functioned perfectly well in the muggle world once upon a time. Once there, she sent a patronus to Viktor asking if it was okay for a visit. He replied it was so she made her way to his home. She'd been there a few times over the years.

"Mione," he said when she arrived. Somehow he made it sound as if he was saying my-iona versus the way Ron and others said it. She kind of liked it.

"Hi Viktor."

"You need break, yes. Your studies are done?"

"They are."

"I leave in three days, many matches, but the house is yours."

"Oh, I can leave when you do."

"Nonsense. You are here for reasons, yes?"

"To figure out where I want to go from here."

"Then stay. You know that I trust you."

"Thank you. That is very kind."

He showed her to a room she'd stayed in before. It was near his, but not so near that she took it to mean he expected something in return for his generosity. He'd been the wizard she'd tried to have sex with twice seven and then again six years ago. He knew that while she probably could there would be something missing, lacking and he wanted none of that. There hadn't been a third time and she hadn't met anyone else she cared to try with.

"Come on down when you're ready. I was just reviewing some memories from a previous match."

She smiled slightly at that.

"I keep telling you that you need to find a muggleborn to videotape all of the quidditch matches and then you could watch the whole game without a pensieve."

"I know. I do not know how well that would be received. Plus, well, I don't want everyone to do it."

She laughed. He was a competitor. No one could say different, and he was successful so what he did worked. She wouldn't call it cheating as it was no different than they did for muggle sports, reviewing previous game tapes and such.

She unpacked a few things. She knew his invitation to stay as long as she needed was sincere and they'd kept in touch well enough over the years she didn't feel as if she was using or misleading him. After that, she showered and dressed for a night out before joining him.

"Take me out, Viktor," she said.

He eyed her and she wished the look of appreciation he bestowed upon her was reciprocated. It wasn't because of the soulmarks that it wasn't either. He just wasn't her person. She'd learned that in her fourth year. It didn't stop her from wishing that he was. It didn't stop her from coming here and throwing herself at him. Twice, seven years ago and again the next year.

"You look very nice. What kind of outing did you have in mind?"

She shrugged. She wasn't even sure what to say. She wasn't sure if she should. If she told him Severus Snape knew all along who she was and didn't want her. Well, he'd likely do something stupid and try to defend her honour or something. She didn't want that. She knew Viktor was a capable wizard, but he wasn't going to beat Severus Snape in a duel.

"Ah," he said with a knowing nod. "I will take your mind off everything."

It was one of the things she loved about him. He would do exactly that, no questions asked as to why she was here or what she needed her mind to be taken off of.

"Thank you."

And he did.

For three days he kept her occupied. She told him she wouldn't overstay her welcome while he was gone. He assured her she could return, that his wards would allow her in until she told him she no longer needed his home.

Very generous.

Very trusting.

Odd to think before she went to Hogwarts she'd had no friends. Somehow, she'd managed to gain friends like Harry, Viktor, Ron, and Neville who were loyal to her. And she felt incredible loyalty to.

The best part? He never asked once why she just showed up at his house. He just accepted that she came. That he was the wizard she needed in this moment, and went with it.

She took a few days after he left to go through her bag, ensuring she had everything she needed in it.

Her last night at his home she laid out on the grass in his backyard, staring at the sky as the sun set. The three days he'd been here he'd, without question or her having to ask him to, described the sunset in great detail until it was no longer visible.

She cried that night for the first time in all of this. She didn't want to have to be told what something looked like. She wanted to see it for herself. Stupid reason to get involved with someone. She'd survived this long, she would survive longer seeing as she did.

However, she hadn't expected his offer.

What the hell did that even mean?

After about an hour's worth of crying and really taking the time to think over their … brief … conversation. She decided she was more insulted than hurt. Hurt was there, too. She didn't expect a grand proposal the day they found one another.

However, she'd expected something. Being someone's soulmate was kind of a big deal, even she knew that. To people who wanted one anyway.

She sighed, closing her eyes in an attempt to avoid thinking more about this. What good would it do anyway? He'd known who she was for years and didn't want her. She obviously lacked something. Or just wasn't Lily.

That was pretty clear.

She sighed, sitting up after a while and returned inside.

Dear Viktor:

Thank you for the hospitality. I promise I will send you owls once in a while. I don't know where I'm going from here. See you soon, I'm sure. Take care.

Love,

Hermione

One of the last things Viktor asked of her was to ensure she let him know she was alive and well. He actually said alive and well versus just okay or doing well or updating him on what she was doing. He seemed genuinely worried about her, and she wondered what she looked like, what feeling she was giving off that he'd think she'd … harm herself.

She never thought she was the type to do anything like that, but she could sort of understand why some might. To see colours so vividly only to have it taken away was depressing!

One last night at his home. The next morning she gathered her things and prepared to leave. She had no idea where she was going. She closed her eyes and used her finger to point at a place on an atlas Viktor had in his study. (She found it interesting he had a muggle atlas.)

"Istanbul it is, I guess," she murmured.

***

July 2006

Monte was amused. Severus knew this. Severus didn't know the wizard well enough to delve into the reasons behind his amusement. Nor did he particularly care. The man had helped ensure Miss Granger was safe for years and had evidently kept to himself he'd been asked to. Severus owed him for that. It would have been easy at some point over the years for his loyalty to shift to the witch as he obviously grew closer to her.

"You truly have not heard from her in a year?"

"No. She asked me to send her last check to Harry Potter. I did. It wasn't returned to me."

Severus huffed.

He'd … presumed she'd return here. He was sort of ashamed to admit it took him as long as it did to realize when he came into town to sell his potions that he no longer saw the colours as he had for years during his previous visits to the port city. He was just so used to it that not experiencing the difference didn't register.

Until one day it had registered.

And he discovered that she was gone.

Infernal witch.

His transactions finished he returned to his boat and his home, pondering not for the first time (and likely not the last) where she'd go. He'd seen a few pictures of her with Krum shortly after she'd left his home, but they'd stopped almost as soon as they started. That was a year or so ago. So, he presumed she wasn't there now. He just assumed she'd visited her friend. He really hadn't thought she'd leave.

(And he ignored the feeling of dread in his stomach that she'd likely spent those nights with the other wizard. He had no business feeling jealous when as she pointed out he'd known who she was for ten years and said and done nothing.)

He stood, his shoulder leaning against the doorway leading to the solarium. He truly until the day she'd been here had no idea how … bright and cheerful it was. The very idea he owned anything pink was bothersome. No one saw it so it really didn't matter, but it was so far out of the norm for him that he could just picture Minerva's face if she'd been the one to see it.

He'd saved her! He'd felt her panic. Felt her distress. And gone to her. He'd refrained from scolding her about being perfectly capable of getting herself out of the situation even! Or avoiding the situation entirely by apparating out of her boss' office.

Did that mean nothing?

He sighed, running a fingertip along the amulet and its matching marks on his chest. When he'd first seen them when he woke the morning after they'd essentially been branded into his skin, he'd presumed it was a perverse joke.

That he was soulmarked for anyone.

That the representation of his witch would be love and peace. He hadn't known either a day in his life. The symbols were almost identical, making him wonder why he had two. He supposed it was whoever was playing such a joke on him's way of twisting the knife even more.

Then he'd watched her as she finished her sixth year and Albus kept him informed (barely) of their progress hunting. She overcame being held captive and tortured, something seasoned death eaters weren't able to do at times. She sat through and testified at countless trials. She listened as people hurled insults at her, thinking somehow they were going to escape Azkaban.

She hadn't failed to impress him, though, even if she wasn't aware of it.

It had taken its toll. He saw it, but she'd persevered and survived. And then she'd left. Minerva had told him she was attending University of Edinburgh. From there he'd discovered where she was living and working.

He discovered, too, that during that hour or two he was nearby he could see in colour, surmising the same was true for her as well. He didn't have to be in the bar with her. He just had to be close.

He followed her academic career, debating more than once on approaching her.

He'd always refrained.

And say what? He had no idea. She certainly didn't act as if she thought something was missing from her life.

So, he stuck with remaining at a distance, just ensuring that she was okay. Monte was more than willing to aid in that in exchange for some difficult to find (and costly) potions.

It seemed the older Swedish wizard who had Vikings for ancestors knew. And he wasn't wrong. Severus was just rather certain she wouldn't want to be spoken for by him. He presumed she'd marry Weasley or, after Potter and the other Weasley broke things off, Potter.

A year of no colours was … depressing even to him. How was she surviving?

With that thought, he apparated away from his home to the London street he really had hoped to never see again.

He wasn't expecting Ronald Weasley to answer the door when he knocked. He supposed it shouldn't have surprised him.

"Um, Professor Snape," he said after a nervous swallow. "Hi."

"Mr. Weasley. I hope you are well."

"Yes, you too."

"Thank you. Is Mr. Potter home?"

"Yes, Sir, come in."

Severus stepped into the home, following Weasley to Potter.

"Snape is here," Weasley said.

Harry looked up from whatever it was he'd been doing at that. Severus saw … affection in the younger wizard's eyes. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to seeing that look coming from this wizard.

"Hello."

"Potter."

Now what? He took a deep breath. No doubt Potter would report to Weasley whatever was said anyway.

"I was wondering if you might know where Miss Granger is." He hoped he had said that in a polite enough sounding way so that if Potter knew he would tell Severus.

Weasley paled and Potter stared at him for a moment.

"No, I don't. I got a letter from her a few weeks ago. Maybe it was a month, I suppose. She's been moving around a lot."

"Where was she?"

"Um, let me get the letter," he said, standing then and leaving the room.

Weasley stared at him and Severus tried not to fidget, or hex the wizard. Either was an option when dealing with Weasley.

"It's you."

He rolled his eyes. "You'll have to be more specific if you expect me to answer, Mr. Weasley."

"You're here looking for Hermione. She left suddenly. Harry says she was upset but wouldn't tell him what about."

"And you deduce that I have upset her somehow?"

"No, I deduce that you're her soulmate and likely did something to upset her as a result of that. She wouldn't bring Harry into it because Harry likes you. So, yes."

"You know?"

"Who do you think told her what it was," he said, pointing at the amulet he was wearing. Weasley stepped closer then, seeming to want to see the amulet.

"What are hers?" he asked. He'd never been in a position to ask before now.

"She has two, too. Warrior and Odin's illusion rune for camouflage and deception." Severus gave a slight nod. He could admit those were … appropriate.

"What do you want with her?"

"What business is it of yours, Mr. Weasley?"

"She's my best friend." He glanced behind him upon hearing Potter return to the room. "She sounds like she's doing okay. She didn't ten months ago, so if you do something to change that…"

Severus scoffed at the audacity of this wizard thinking he could hurt him and yet. He was doing it, threatening him, because he cared about the witch.

"I have no plans to."

"Why would he?" Harry asked.

"He's her soulmate," Ronald said, pointing at Severus' amulet containing the two symbols. Two symbols that were different from their friend's.

"What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything to her! In fact, I saved her from being attacked by a group of young men in the town she tended bar in because she evidently forgot she was a witch who knows magic!"

"And that made her leave?" Harry asked, sounding doubtful. Severus noticed he had what looked like a muggle envelope in his hand.

"I don't know! I'm really not here to answer twenty questions. Either you're willing to give me her last known location or you're not."

"If you hurt her…" Harry said, holding the envelope to Severus.

"I have no intention of hurting her, Potter. I'm, frankly, tired of seeing nothing but dullness."

Harry drew the envelope away. Shit. What was that about?

"So you want to find her to help yourself?"

"She has to be tired of it as well! Prior to her leaving, I visited Ullapool at least twice a month so that she would … have that."

"How nice of you," Weasley said.

"What would you have me do? She's nearly twenty years younger than me! I offered her a room at my home. She left!"

Weasley laughed then, which resulted in Potter looking perplexed.

"Why is that funny?"

"She's his soulmate and he offered her a room in his home."

"What is wrong with that?" Potter asked. Severus was a little curious, too, truthfully. He thought it was a … reasonable option to attempt to get to know one another. Showed what he knew.

"She understood you've been going to Ullapool for that long intentionally?" Weasley asked.

"I presume so," Severus said. He supposed she might not. She left before they could actually talk!

"So, you don't like her?" Potter asked.

"What's to or not to like? I don't know her."

"And yet, she's your soulmate." This was Weasley.

He sighed, frustrated with the direction this conversation was taking. He just wanted to know her last known address.

"We've covered this already, Mr. Weasley."

" You have. For as smart as you supposedly are you are being incredibly dense here."

"Excuse me!"

Weasley rolled his eyes.

"I think, Sir," Potter interjected. "What he's suggesting is that she likely thinks you don't want her. The person picked to be your soulmate. That you'd rather live alone…"

"Again, she's twenty years younger than I am."

"Does that really matter? It obviously didn't to whoever decides who soulmates should be," Weasley said.

"I would not make her happy."

"Well, you're certainly doing a good job of ensuring that part holds true," Weasley said.

"What would you have me do?"

"Not offer her a room," Weasley said. "This is your soulmate. She is basically branded with your symbol. No wizard will want her. And you damned well know it, which means you're basically condemning her to live alone."

No, he didn't know that. How could he possibly?

"Why?" he asked.

"Because that symbol will tell them she's marked for someone else. Who would want a witch that they see physical proof is supposed to be someone else's. I offered," he said with a shrug.

That both surprised and made him feel things he didn't want to think about here and now. Had she considered marrying him?

"And she said no?"

"I think she thought I was feeling sorry for her."

"You weren't?"

"Of course not. I loved her, but as soon as I saw the amulet," he shrugged. Severus felt a little sorry for the wizard in that moment. He did believe Weasley loved the witch. "I just know that if she marries a muggle, she's going to live longer and I didn't want her to think she had to do that if there was another way."

"So, wizards have …"

"I don't think she's let anyone get close enough to see the mark since Viktor. And that was years ago. I only saw them by accident."

"I've never seen them," Potter said.

Krum had seen her marks? When? Why? How? As if he had any right to be jealous!

"I ask again. What would you have me do?"

"If you need me to tell you then you don't deserve her."

Severus rolled his eyes. "May I have the address, Potter?"

"That depends. Are you going to talk to her? Or are you going to do something to make her run again?"

"I tried talking to her!"

"Somehow I doubt that," Harry said.

"Fine. This was a waste of my time. I'll find her another way."

"Don't you think if she wanted you to find her she wouldn't make it so difficult for you to do so?" This was Weasley. Of course it was.

"I will take your opinion under advisement."

"Really, Sir, for as intelligent as you are. Enough people have said you are so I have to assume they're right. That you don't understand what you did wrong is astonishing."

"Says the wizard who left his best friends to share a possessed locket between the two of them in the middle of a war. Not to mention having a roof over your head and enough food to eat on any given day when you knew they were cold and starving. Thank you, Mr. Weasley, for your first hand expert opinion on astonishing behaviour."

He left then.

He had no idea where to look for the witch. As he had just said, he truly didn't even know her. Staying within proximity to her location was instinctual. There was no thought or introspection involved in the process. He just knew where he needed to be.

He presumed.

Well, he never thought of another wizard seeing her marks and not wanting her. Knowing her or not, she was a more than acceptable specimen of the female persuasion. And yet, Weasley offered and she had not said yes. Had Krum?

There was one place he knew to check that he hadn't thought of until now.

He found himself in front of the empty lot where her parents' home had stood. All that remained these days was the garage. It had been saved from destruction years ago. Her parents were still alive, he knew, residing in Australia rather happily. They were here for her graduation from Edinburgh he knew because Minerva mentioned it.

Minister Shackelbolt had called in a favour with the muggles so that the property would remain unsold until Hermione Granger decided what she wanted to do with it.

Nine years seemed a little excessive to be indecisive. And yet he'd clung to his childhood home for years so he supposed he wasn't a good person to judge.

He felt her wards and her presence immediately. The fact that he was able to see the blueish grey of the garage only occurred to him after noticing the other things.

He sighed.

"Miss Granger. Hermione," he said. "I know you know that I'm here."

Silence. And then her wards lifted enough to allow him to see the tent. He walked in its direction, knowing when the wards were back in place.

He entered the tent, overwhelmed for a moment at the … extravagance of it. Not in a bad way, just that she could truly live here and need for nothing if she so chose.

"They thought I burned it," she said.

"I would not think you'd do such a thing."

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you. Obviously."

"About what?"

"You left and then disappeared before we could actually talk."

"You insulted and hurt me."

"Unintentionally. I am twenty years older than you."

"I'm aware."

"I would never have presumed you wished to know me as being your soulmate."

"You never asked."

"I didn't wish to be laughed at or ridiculed. So, I elected to do as I've done the past few years. I presumed once you finished your education, perhaps we could talk. Monte was willing to look out for you in my stead."

"I thought he was my friend, but even that was fake thanks to you."

"Nonsense. I didn't ask him to befriend you or be kind to you. He did that on his own."

She huffed. Now that he had found her and was here he wasn't sure what to say.

"The offer of a room was so that we could get to know one another. You may find we are not suited for one another despite the marks. You may find seeing in the colours we do see is enough for you without accepting one another."

"Wait. They get more?"

"From my understanding, yes. There is an increase in all of our senses. The colours are just the marks' way of allowing the parties to recognize when their mate is near."

"You've known for ten years, Severus."

"The first few of which we were both rather busy with a war. Not to mention you were still a student. Afterward, you were pursuing academics. I was establishing my home and business. I never strayed far. I kept tabs on your progress."

"You never told me who you were!"

"I didn't think you'd care to know."

"Why not?"

It was his turn to scoff. "Don't be obtuse, Hermione."

She regarded him then closely. Too closely.

"I'm not being obtuse. We were from my research quite literally picked for one another. You thought I wouldn't want to know who you were and make a decision myself?"

"When was I to do this? On your seventeenth birthday? You were my student. I knew what the next year or two would bring, or at the very least that it would bring nothing pleasant. I didn't want to add undo pressure to the expectations of you already in place. On your eighteenth when you believed I had killed the headmaster and was truly a death eater? On your nineteenth when you had spent hours listening to despicable things I'd done in the name of being Albus' and the Order's spy? Never mind the things I had said to you. Please tell me when it was a suitable time to approach you and tell you the fates saw fit to mate you with me?"

"Well, okay, but after…"

He huffed. "And then you were at university and I didn't want to distract you from that. I … envied you the option to pursue academics post-Hogwarts and did not want to put you in a position that you might feel you had to choose. I also realized by taking so long to confess what I knew that you would hold that against me no matter my reasons. So, I elected to just do nothing."

"I don't understand that."

"Truly? You are aware of my past. My history. What makes you think that I would … take a leap of faith that you, this brilliant witch mated to me, would want me and not laugh in my face?"

"I would never do that."

"And I know little but ridicule and heartache when it comes to such matters."

"It's not because I'm not Lily?"

He stared at her for a moment.

"It has absolutely nothing to do with Lily except for my experience with feelings was with her and did not turn out well."

"You're not still in love with her?"

He scoffed. He couldn't help it. "I honestly do not think I ever truly was. Not really. Maybe when I was twelve and thirteen, but we had started growing apart even before our falling out. I viewed it as James taking her from me in addition to the bullying," he shrugged. "I'm probably not saying that well. To answer your questions, no it's not because you're not Lily and I am not in love with Lily Potter. My staying away was because I truly did not think you would want me."

Silence.

"Come with me, Hermione. Bring your tent if you wish. I have an entire island for you to move about as you wish if my home is not what you want. I make no promises that we will live happily ever after, but my hope was that at the very least a friendship could be forged. I will not lie to you. You are done with your schooling so the timing is more appropriate. I did reveal myself to you. So, as I was going to say that day in my home. I sort of felt as if it was now or never. I knew after showing myself to you that night that you knew the truth and if I didn't speak to you that you would never give me the time of day."

"And that would bother you?"

"Well, yes. As I said that night, you are not practiced in occluding so I have grown … accustomed to if not seeing colours at least feeling things through you. The past year that has been missing and I hadn't realized how much I counted on that until it was gone. Whether you know it or not, I was aware when you had bad days and if I was able to come to town so that you would experience colours I did. I knew that mattered to you."

He moved to the tent flap then. He wasn't going to overstay his welcome.

"Think about it. My offer isn't going away. I didn't have to remove your face covering that night. I could have gone on my way once I knew that you were safe from harm. I knew it was time. You left my home before I could give voice to my thoughts."

"You said you wanted a roommate!"

"I actually did not say that. Are you truly expecting us to immediately embark on a relationship? Physical or otherwise? I don't get the impression you are any more experienced in them than I am." He held up his hand when he saw her open her mouth. "Before you take that as an insult, it is not meant as one. You have been busy. I know you have been on dates, however, I have not seen you linked with anyone seriously. You are aware of my romantic past. Which is none to be clear in case you're not thinking coherently at the moment."

"How do you know I've had dates?"

"I have felt it. And Monte has told me."

She blushed then.

"So, my thought was, time together where we can get accustomed to not just one another's company but also the … colours neither of us is used to. I will not rush into something because someone marked us for one another. I am a more cautious and suspicious man than that. I believe you are equally as cautious. When you think about this logically and stop thinking about it from the perspective that I've known for ten years and never told you, I believe you will see that what I'm suggesting is logical and the best way to ensure neither of us is reacting irrationally. And that we don't do something we'll regret later."

"And you could just live with me?"

"I have known where you are for nine years, Hermione. Other than the past year. If I was thinking with the parts of me you are implying would take control if you were living under my roof, I wouldn't have waited. I am not suggesting our relationship will not change and evolve, but we have to start somewhere. Marks or not, I'd prefer to know my mate before taking the steps to solidify our bond. I would hope that eventually we will be more than just two people who occupy the same abode."

She stood then, clutching the amulet with her palm.

"Can I see?" she asked.

He knew what she was asking.

"The amulet or the actual marks?"

She blushed then and he chuckled. At least she blushed and didn't look offended at the idea of seeing the actual marks. That was actually a relief.

"We'll start with the amulet, yes?"

He slid it out from under his shirt. She stepped toward him, both giving a soft gasp when their amulets came within such close proximity to one another. They pulsed seemingly in recognition. The night he'd intervened he had evidently not gotten close enough to her for them to react. She slid a finger along the lines of first the one representing love and then the one for peace.

"They mean…"

"I know," she said, her blush deepening. He was fairly certain he was blushing as well. Her eyes were on the amulet as she spoke. He saw when her eyes drifted to his neck and he cleared his throat softly.

"Yet another reason I chose not to approach you," he murmured.

She reached then, fingertips grazing the scars that were the parting gift from his first master.

"Do you think yours are accurate?"

"I did deceive many for years. I do not know about the warrior part, but yes I suppose they are both fitting."

"So that means you think mine could be accurate?"

There went that blush deepening further and he was fairly certain his did as well.

"I think I would be a very lucky man if they were even close to being accurate."

"Me, too," she whispered, eyes dropping almost coquettishly. A thought he could honestly say had never occurred to him about a woman doing with regard to him in his life.

Silence as she brushed the backs of her fingers along his neck and throat. He fought the urge to draw away. He did not like being touched as a general rule, but no one but healers (and himself obviously) had touched these particular scars. Drawing away would undo what he'd accomplished here so far this afternoon.

"Are you going to keep yours hidden?" she asked.

"I guess that depends on you and what your preference is. You seem to wear clothing where yours is visible. I do not, not deliberately. I just tend to wear shirts that…"

"I know," she said, stroking the scars on his neck with the side of her thumb. She tilted her head, regarding him and he could see that she thought of something else.

"How did you think to find me here?"

"I am aware you held onto this property. I know that you know how to live off the grid quite well. It occurred to me that maybe, if you were local, this would be a good place to look. Potter and Weasley did little more than insult me. So I thought why not try here before I went to talk to Krum."

She smiled at that, dropping her hand to her side. So, what now? Did he leave? She hadn't said she would return with him.

"Help me with my tent?" she asked, as if sensing his indecision. He was really quite clueless in such matters.

"It would be my pleasure," he said.

~The End~

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