Hermione wasn't entirely surprised on a Friday night to see Harry Potter enter her pub. She maybe should have been, but she guessed he was curious about who she was.

She'd never seen him before, at least not in person. She knew exactly who he was as soon as he walked in, though. He was The Boy Who Lived after all, so was famous. Even those who went to the private school with her knew who he was. No one else in here would know that he was anyone special. She watched, too, just in case there was someone else magical in town she wasn't aware of. No one gave him a second glance. She wondered if he liked that, but realized evidently he must not, because he remained living in the magical world. At least by the way Severus made it sound, he was living with his magical godfather.

Severus made it clear that this wizard cared for him (and vice versa). So it wasn't the most shocking thing to happen. Considering she had a soul mate, her bar for shocking might be a little high. (And that she'd discovered the existence of said soul mate as the result of what she presumed would be a fling at best.) Honestly, she presumed soul mates and things like it were up there with divination as far as validity.

She approached him when he took a spot at the bar. Interestingly, almost exactly the same spot Severus usually took. She imagined it was because from that stool he could see the door as well as the area behind the bar that led to the back of the building. Things like turning their back on people and entrances would not be something either wizard would want to do.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi." He offered her his hand, which she took. "Harry, but I guess you know that already."

"I did."

"He says you're smart."

"Mm."

She got him the beer he asked for. She could tell he wanted to say something. And presumed he'd shown up here for a reason. She glanced around, ensuring everyone was okay for the moment so she could stay here.

"I don't want him to go," Harry said.

She sighed softly. She was … glad to hear someone else say it.

"I don't want him to either."

"I can't change his mind. He thinks I don't care. That Remus and Sirius being here will mean I wouldn't miss him. I know I don't see him every day or anything, but still the fact I can means a lot. You could. Change his mind, I mean."

"Harry. We have two years…"

"He's convinced, I think that what we're doing, you know, him being here hidden the way he is. I think he believes that we don't really want him back. That he's a pariah or something of the wizarding world."

"I could see that." It would be a logical assumption for just about anyone to make. Throw in someone who didn't think anyone cared about him, which she knew was the case with him. And whose job as a double spy was done. Well, yes, she could see it.

"That wasn't our intention at all. We figured why not take advantage of people not knowing if he was dead or alive and catch more of them. I mean, sure there are probably people in prison who would give up this person or that, but they'd be doing it for a lighter sentence. Leniency. And they don't have all of the information Severus does."

"I understand."

She did. It was a sound plan, but to someone who had never belonged or been cared about. Well, she could see where Severus would view it as a "thanks, but leave now" thing. She also knew it bothered him that he had as much information about these things as he did. He doubted at times, not their bond, but why it existed. How his soul wasn't so foul, even if most of the things he'd done had been in the name of winning a war. He was right, too, his information would have less chance of being … false. Or a trap. Because he wasn't trying to gain something with it.

"He has a place in our world. I will ensure Kingsley keeps his word as far as the charges, as will my godfather. I don't know if he's told you about Sirius. There's no love lost between them, but he helped ensure I was raised by Sirius not my aunt and uncle. Sirius wouldn't let that go unpaid. Not that that's why Severus did it, I'm not saying that. Just that Sirius would ensure his voice was heard, too."

"I don't think he believes that any of you wouldn't. I think he just doesn't want his history to follow him forever." She shrugged. She heard him. She listened. She couldn't blame him, but she didn't like the idea of him … running away. He had the rest of his life to prove everything before 1980 was a misstep. Something he corrected and made up for. They'd both mentioned a child or children. She just didn't think escaping his past was the precedent to set for any child. She also didn't like the idea of lying to children about everything, which they would have to do if they lived elsewhere.

"I see. And would you go with him?"

She shrugged. It was an interesting question, and one she really didn't know the answer to. Her heart, the part that knew after finding him and what being with him felt like (and not just physically either), knew she'd be a fool for letting him just go away somewhere she'd likely never see him again. Her head, though, told her that she could survive without him. "I don't know. Probably. I'm a History major. I can use that anywhere. Anytime."

"I suppose."

"He hasn't, you know, actually asked me. Formally. He mentioned us doing it, but I don't know."

"You live with him."

She shrugged a bit. "No one else here knows that."

"Oh?"

"Well, they'd question why I don't drive if they realized I live all the way out there."

"Got it," he said, nodding.

She was kind of surprised they hadn't met before now, but Harry seemed to come to the house when she wasn't there. She didn't think it was anything as sinister as Severus not wanting them to meet. She just assumed that Harry worked an actual job for the Ministry of Magic, so had times that worked best for him. Those were likely evenings, when she was at work. She presumed Harry had a social life.

That made her wonder what he was doing here on a Friday night.

"I think you're giving me way too much credit if you think I can truly change his mind."

"And I think you're not giving yourself enough credit if you think that you can't. He's never had a relationship, at least one that anyone's aware of, before now. I hear how he talks about you. I see the things he's done to accommodate not just you but your cat. He's less quick to have a sharp tongue. I've heard him laugh, which is something until recently I swore he couldn't do."

She smiled a bit at that. She liked hearing him laugh, too. She didn't have the memories or association with him that Harry did, but she knew by his past that he was a very serious man. His eyes told her that, too. So, when he let his guard down enough to let anyone see something … amused him. It was special. "I think Crookshanks might just like him as much as he does me."

"I think you might be right. I'm not saying the job he wants to do with you is out of the question. I think you'd both be really good at that. I don't know you, but he's one of the smartest people I know. So if he says you're smart, then you must be. So, I have no doubt that you can do what you're thinking."

"He told you?"

"Generally."

That surprised her. She wasn't sure why. He just seemed to keep things pretty private. She was pretty sure he wouldn't have told Harry his idea about stopping Fenrir Greyback from getting bitten. That would give Harry hope that one of his father's friends would not be a werewolf.

"But there's nothing saying you couldn't do that and still live here."

"I agree. And again, two years, Harry. I have to finish my schooling, so I'm not even thinking beyond that goal at the moment. I can't!"

Harry got quiet then, and she tended to her other customers while he sipped his beer. He was no doubt attentive to not just her but the whole room. She recognized the look from having observed Severus in here. How anyone looked at him, at either men, and didn't realize they'd been through some serious shit was beyond her. Then, maybe they did because no one really bothered Severus when he came into the Majestic Yew. A few had started to sit by him to watch a game on a television. They'd talk about this or that as the game progressed, but it was surface stuff. No one knew what he did for a living or even where he lived.

He told her one night that he appreciated the small talk. The first time or two someone sat near him, she'd been watchful for the need to intervene and shoo a pest on their way. Once he'd told her that, though, she stopped. He was an adult and could tell someone to get lost without her interference if he wanted to.

"He's okay, though?" he asked one of the times she checked on him.

"He is. Overall. He wakes up at night a lot. Not unexpected from my understanding. He says it doesn't take him as long to go back to sleep with me there. I shouldn't tell you more than that. He wouldn't like it, especially if he hasn't told you that, but, yes, to answer your question, he is."

Harry smiled a bit at that. "I'm glad he found you."

"I am, too," Hermione said. She still wasn't sure what to make of the soul mate business, but she could admit that they did seem … suited to one another. Both were studious. Neither minded if they were working on something with the other being in the room with them working on their own thing. The company despite the silence was welcome.

He liked to cook. He was good at it. She was … learning. She could imagine the type of professor he was from their lessons in the kitchen. He was precise and deliberate, which she imagined transferred to potion making as well. He grew short a time or two when he presumed she should know something. She'd had her meals cooked for her virtually her entire life between home and being at Madam Docherty's. Yes, she'd been on her own for about a year and a half, but she just hadn't branched out beyond things she was comfortable with.

And cooking for one wasn't much fun.

The difference, she supposed, from living among muggles where it was easy to stop at a store and buy a premade meal or sandwich.

Or the age group. When he'd been in his twenties, that sort of thing wasn't available to him. So, it was cook or eat ham sandwiches every day for the rest of his life. Microwaves were a thing, but they were basically for reheating last night's leftovers or heating up a frozen vegetable. There weren't a wide variety of meals and things as there were available today.

She only knew this listening to her mum talk about this and that when she'd gone to the store with her. Her parents did not have a microwave, neither did Severus.

Eventually, the wizard left, and Hermione honestly hoped it wasn't the last she'd see of him. It was kind of nice to talk to someone else magical. And she knew he and Severus liked one another.

She took his empty beer bottle away with a sigh.

No pressure or anything.

He was basically telling her that it would be up to her to convince Severus to stay in this time, even if they were working as Unspeakables and doing as he wanted, going back through recent history to change some things.

Did she want to be that person? One who influenced another person's future, trying to talk him into staying somewhere he didn't think he wanted to be. She truly did think Harry hit on something, though, with Severus believing he wasn't wanted or needed by the magical world anymore.

It was late when she got home.

Home.

He didn't call it his home. It was their home. They weren't married, but that didn't seem to matter to him when it came to their shared space. It was theirs now. Of course, he'd only been here a few months before she moved in.

She showered, made sure Crookshanks was settled for the night, and sat on the sofa to page through a potions periodical that was on the table. She just needed a few minutes to unwind before heading up to bed. She didn't like waking him, knowing he got woken up by his nightmares enough during the night without her tossing and turning on the bed, too.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com