A/N- Y'all ever had to right a wrong? Well, me too.

Hermione was angry with the world that day. The ministry had been particularly frustrating, and no one seemed to know how to do their job correctly.

Harry was busy with a case, Ron was actually taking responsibility working with George, and that left her all alone to deal with the problem, not a soul to talk to. Ginny would have been helpful if her Quidditch coach didn't forbid muggle cell-phones, and Luna was thousands of miles away doing something with a Scamander.

It wasn't the first time Hermione had been alone, and it wasn't the first time it had bothered her on a day like this.

Hermione decided Hogsmeade was an amenable place to get plastered considering the students were gone for the summer. Maybe she'd apparate back or maybe she'd just rent a room in one of the inns. She was just so bloody frustrated with the work that if she didn't have a stiff drink in her hand in the next few minutes, it would start twitching.

Walking right up to the bartender at Hogshead, she ordered a double gin and tonic then promptly sat down, having nothing on her but her wand and a few galleons in her dress pocket. No, she had not changed from her ministry formal robes.

The drink burned her throat, and somehow soothed her soul of even just a tiny bit. More would help. A few healthy sips later, and she observed her surroundings.

Considering it was roughly half five and broad daylight, there weren't many people at the place. A few were chatting animatedly over dinner, a couple separate folks joined her at the main bar, and someone sat deep at the back, looking as though he was talking notes.

Work at a bar? She should just try that next time.

Upon another inspection, she recognized the stranger. Severus Bloody Snape, an actual moniker he'd earned when he lived through the attack by Nagini with a few stark-white scars on his neck as proof. He still taught at Hogwarts, she remembered NEWT potions for her repeat year that McGonagall had kindly let her have, the class otherwise unmemorable.

He'd been... plain and boring, nothing like what she expected, or maybe everything she expected which was why it was so disappointing. Hell, she would've taken his berating if only to make the class a little bit exciting. Turns out potions were a lot less interesting when your integrity wasn't at stake. Though she was sure Neville would disagree. They never talked, Neville and Snape, and Hermione remembered suddenly that Hannah, Neville's girlfriend, had inherited the Leaky Cauldron.

But that wasn't where she was, and unbeknownst to Severus Snape, he now had company.

Maybe now he would surprise her at least. Be anything other than dull and simply getting through the day.

She swallowed the rest of her drink and felt the audacity fill her in a potent way. Who needed potions when alcohol did the trick just fine?

"Hello." A fantastic opening line, she was ten for ten.

Hermione waited for a response, and with barely the turn of his head, he looked at her.

A great first start, the acknowledgement filled her.

"You seemed lonely," she added, sitting on the stool next to him and motioning for another drink, she instructed the bartender to give Snape another of his own empty mug as well.

"What are you doing, Miss Granger?" Drawn out as ever, Hermione sized up his words. He looked completely passive in every aspect of his face which had not aged a single day since the war, and he rarely blinked.

She might have replied after the short pause, but the bartender gave them their drinks, and she snorted at the butterbeer that was placed in front of him. Merlin, and she thought he'd had a pint.

"You drink that stuff? Lost my taste for it a few years ago," she said, feeling quite like she was carrying the conversation as she gulped down a large bit of her glass. Gin really did only get worse for her.

"And so you've moved on to bitter." The words came from him, though he looked quite like he regretted it... in a Severus Snape way, not a Hagrid telling them about Fluffy way.

"I have." She narrowed her eyes at him in hopes to get her point across.

Snape went back to his papers, seeming to elect the option of ignoring her. And Hermione really tried to let him do it, glancing about the bar, but he was far too interesting.

He breathed in deeply and shut his notes, almost snapping at her.

"You must have someone else to bother, Miss Granger. It is summer, for Merlin's sake."

"All of my friends are busy, and I found you here. The least strange of all the strangers."

She nearly tipped back on her stool if not for the wave of nausea that hit her upon her second drink. Maybe she should try a butterbeer, just for opposite effect.

"Miss Granger?"

It wasn't exactly a tone of concern, but it was an inquiry nonetheless, and Hermione felt slight pride in being able to get it from him. Then, while she recovered, closing her eyes and clutching her glass in her right hand, she heard him ask for a water.

Water was definitely not what she needed.

"Do you know what I would like?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked directly at her companion. He was completely blank, which she supposed was a change from brooding.

"No," he said, clipping the word as short as possible.

"For people at the ministry to do their jobs. How hard is it? To file the right files and send the notes to the right people? Or to schedule a meeting with the Wizengamot for any other time besides when the Minister and I shall be in conference with MACUSA?"

"Should you be speaking of your work?" He asked her in long form as opposed to his other statements.

She went to take a drink to wet her throat when she realized her had switched her gin for the water. It did taste better, but she was upset he'd tricked her so easily.

"It's nothing confidential, if that is what you are saying." Hermione sipped the water anyways and made a face to prove she knew what he had done.

"I would hate to get locked up after all just for overhearing Ministry business."

She laughed, though it was obvious he had not intended to be funny.

"Sorry."

Snape pursed his lips, but did not comment. Hermione had to say that watching him drink butterbeer was a first. All those years in the great hall and she couldn't recall what he drank then.

"Where are your companions?" He asked her, though he sounded slightly pained as he did so. She observed him shift his things away from him, too, indicating he might actually be willing to converse with her.

"Well, Harry is on a case, now that's confidential, Ron is working hard with his brother, Ginny is busy with Quidditch, and Luna is off on one adventure or another, she's always got something up her sleeve."

He gave her a short nod, which was better than nothing.

"And you came to Hogsmeade because..."

"Because it felt like the place to go, and seeing you sent me into my thoughts. You are not what I expected Severus Snape." She'd said the name before it was early enough for her brain to command her not to, and he snapped his gaze to her as though to reprimand.

He did not. He merely asked in return, "And what was it you expected of me, Miss Granger?"

Her carelessness was not because she was drunk, far from it. The simple adrenaline of the day and anger running through her made her plain reckless.

"I expected... something more. Either a fire to live, or maybe even something pleasant, which I know is far too much to ask. Hell, for my final year I would've even taken the snark just to spark things up in class."

Snape seemed to take this in, unamused by it nonetheless.

"You would have had me be a prick rather than the normal professor?"

"Well, no," she said, feeling slightly foolish now, her water extremely interesting and tasty all of a sudden. "I just... well, you were nothing, like some part of you had actually... died."

There it was. That felt like a lot closer to the truth. He'd been acting dead in her final year, meanwhile he had somehow been given a second chance to live! Harry took that to his heart voraciously.

"My entire life ended in that shack," he said, the final word unbefitting of him, but Hermione was at least able to meet his gaze now. Snape looked a different kind of sober now. "All I had known since I was twenty, gone. For the better, of course, I did not care for either master I served under, so I had to start almost new. Minerva was generous enough to hear me out, and Potter of course, so I at least had an occupation, but there is no thrill in life for me."

Hearing more words out of him than she had since his polyjuice lecture, Hermione nodded along like she was, in fact, in one of his lectures again. He spoke so plainly, and she supposed he had been pretty drained of everything.

"What an unfortunate way to live," Hermione said just above a whisper. Though, she couldn't find anything in her life she was overly thrilled about right now either.

"What of you? What is life like for one of the saviors?" The word sounded even worse coming from him, and she hated the title in the first place. She wondered if there was just something on the inside of him reading off a script, he said it in such a way.

As for her, no one owed her anything, the Order of Merlin was enough, but even he had one. Hermione just wanted to go on with her life and pretend the whole Voldemort business hadn't happened. It had been a valuable experience, but her classes had been so as well, and she was sure she could have done just fine without it.

"Life is... boring really. My flat is lonely, the ministry is frustrating on the best of days, and my friends all seem to have their lives planned out. I love Harry, but often I wish I had never been involved in his antics."

"He might have died without your influence," he told her lowly. Hermione saw in his eyes a genuine look, and maybe he meant what he said. Though, she knew that.

"He had you, and wasn't that enough? You were too good at what you did." She might as well give him credit. He was a right bastard, but Dumbledore trusted him for a reason.

"I was rubbish, you mean."

She narrowed her brows at him. Well, she did her best, but she reckoned he really wasn't all that wonderful. Or as wonderful as Harry led on.

"To us, yes."

He nodded, confirming his supposition.

"I might... apologize if it were something you felt you needed. Is that near-death-experience enough to satisfy you?"

Hermione laughed a little bit, smiling easily. He had such dry humor, and he probably didn't mean it either.

"No, neither of us owe one-another anything. We have our own guilt to live with. Yours is the way you treated us and mine is well, leaving you there. Watching as Harry begged I help you. I reckon I could've tried, but you handled it well enough on your own it seems."

"I live to tell the tale, do I not?"

She smiled at him and nodded. Her water was once again very interesting, and she busied herself with it instead of meeting his gaze.

"What... would satisfy you, then? If not my demeanor?"

Without thinking she replied, "Oh, you would definitely satisfy me... I mean you did." She huffed and attempted to shake off the horrible fog that came over her brain. "Merlin, I mean your conversation has sufficed so far... sir."

Uncertain of how else to finish, she hoped the formal address would soften the fact that she told him, Severus Bloody Snape, that he satisfies her. She really had not drank that much gin.

The corner of his lip was turned when she looked up at the sound of a faint laugh. He was amused by her suffering, as usual.

"I understood you, Miss Granger."

"You may as well call me Hermione," she said pointedly, turning to look across the bar. Maybe someone else she recognized would walk in and be able to bale her out of the hole she'd dug.

"Very well."

She was almost hoping he would say her name, but she wasn't sure why.

Hermione took this time to notice him now, realizing anyone else she recognized walking in was a slim chance even magic couldn't pull off.

He wore the same black robes as always, the fit just the same, but something about him seemed healthier. There was an actual tint to his skin as though he'd been to the coast, and his hair was graying just a touch. The silver removed any look of grease, too.

She'd walked over there for a reason, and maybe it was just because she was extremely lonely, but it also could have been the fact he'd always intrigued her. Mostly because he was such a prick. A right piece of work, and then suddenly he was nothing. Hermione was worried for him, and he didn't deserve it. The fact he knew that only made it worse.

"How are you?"

"Alive," he answered at first, quickly, but she noticed he had meant to take a sip of his drink. Still completely wrong for him was that butterbeer. "I am... alright. I must admit the castle is lonely during this time of year. It's better with the students. Though most aren't admirers."

Hermione had the sudden impulse to learn, but only something she had absolutely not clue about.

"Show me your quarters?"

This finally got a reaction of sorts out of him, and slight cough was plenty to thrill Hermione for a moment.

"I mean it," she added, "Would I be a Gryffindor if the curiosity hit me and I did not ask?"

"Our houses no longer define us," he tried to say, but he still seemed quite parched. "However-"

Hermione hung on his every word. She always wondered what professor's quarters looked like, and she was just short of becoming a professor herself at the end of her final year just to find out.

"I have no itinerary that must be followed. You may not touch a thing," he warned her, all of his ferocity back in a single statement.

"Right," she chirped, though she wasn't sure how long her resilience would last.

He closed both of their tabs much to her protest, and opened the door for her. Hermione had almost forgotten what having someone do something even small for her felt like.

"Thank you," she said along the way after a few warm steps in the warm, setting sun.

"Indeed."

Hermione huffed, amused but unsurprised with his response. She wondered if she would see any other professors on their way through the castle then recalled he lived in the dungeons unlike the rest of them.

"What did you do before Hogwarts?"

"I stayed with Lucius," he answered carefully.

If he was aware of the time she'd spent in that manor, then it had just shown. With all the tell-alls the papers had done, she wouldn't be surprised.

Hermione moved her thoughts elsewhere.

"Do you like doing this now? Teaching, living on your own time."

Severus glanced at her briefly, walking quite the bit further before answering her.

"Some days are better than others. Not having to act cold and aggressive just in case the Dark Lord returns is freeing. Helping... in my way, which is the best I can offer, heals the soul when one feels soulless."

Hermione understood. He was doing things according to him.

What more could be asked of him? There weren't any complaints that went beyond the superficial anyways.

"I knew the bare minimum when I came here," he said as they approached Hogwarts. "My father was ashamed of my mother, any of my hatred stemmed from him. My mother taught me basics, she was also gifted in potions. In truth, I am glad both lines die with me. The bastard and the blood-minded."

Snape's sudden openness was shocking to Hermione. The ball had ben volleyed to her, and now she could not drop it to the ground. It didn't help though, that the ball was on fire and all she had was a flimsy piece of paper.

"At least you are teaching young wizards valuable skills. I may not personally use potions often, but someone must make them for the Ministry and for Mungo's. Slughorn is bound to die sometime."

He chuckled. Actually let out a noise chuckle, which Hermione could not have been more proud of herself for earning. It was a unique, hearty sound.

"I am doing what I can... some of you are like the pavement and absorb nothing. It merely runs right off of you."

"Was I a sponge?" She asked, their approach on the castle close.

The grounds were satisfying to witness, and she couldn't help but take in a bit of a larger breath as they walked on the paths, years removed from carnage of war. It smelled like summer, her question forgotten.

"Hermione," he said, pulling her from her reverie. He had opened a door for her, his wand technically doing the work. His contribution was merely a gesture inside.

There was no protest this time, as she went straight in and listened to the winds blow through the halls. Talk about nostalgia. She hadn't been here since her graduation several years prior.

"It's just like I remember," she told him with a spunk in her step.

"Your novelty is foreign to me. I am here every day. It could use newer portraits," he added lowly, attempting not to catch the ears of the ones on the walls.

That was direct humor, and she laughed. He was funny! Well, in that moment he had been, but he did not look like it. There was still a blank look on his face, though she wanted to imagine his lip was upturned in a ghost of a smile.

She followed him the rest of the way in resigned silence, not encountering a soul bar the several large owls passing them at the higher floors.

The dungeons were dark, but the lanterns flickered enough for her to adjust. Severus seemed so sure of himself, and who was she to doubt him? It wasn't like she didn't know the halls, but she was so far removed from the Castle, every turn felt like it could be the wrong one.

They arrived safely, as expected.

Hermione was indulgent in her look around Severus Snape's quarters. They were a warm grey, and the fire was lit, magically contained and sustained for use. He had a sitting area immediately when they walked in, two chairs and a couch, with a table in the middle sprawled with books of various kinds. A large, black dresser to the right of the door, and an entrance to another room on the other side. The furthest wall had a curtained bed, a plain black frame, and green sheets. They looked soft, but she had promised not to touch. Across from her was a room with the door closed, and behind her was a bathroom in similar grey fashion.

They were quite smaller than what she was expecting.

"I converted the bedroom into a potions lab and study. I have many more books and things through there. I haven't always lived here. When my mother and father were both dead, I lived in my childhood home in Cokeworth for a while. It was ruined with memories to begin with, and I was happy to take the rooms Minerva offered me this time."

He either had to stop sharing, or Hermione needed to learn how to respond more appropriately to people trusting her with things.

"Not all the professors stay?"

"Would you?" He countered.

She was fixed on the sight of his study, but turned back to see he had left the door open. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with her as he let on.

"I wouldn't know until the situation came."

Severus seemed impressed with her answer as he came forward and brushed past her to open the door she'd been so concentrated on.

The room was obviously meant to be a bedroom with an armoire built into the wall, but the doors were off of it and it's primary use now was shelving. He had counter surface along all the walls, and books were lined everywhere including potions ingredients.

She began to browse, and he commented with a bit of humor, "You didn't think I kept everything in my private stores where meddling children could reach, did you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," she said honestly.

Turning around, his eyes fell on her. Hermione couldn't help the stomach flip that happened internally, but it made her skin warm. She felt ill.

"Do you mind if I sit at least?"

Severus smirked and led her back to one of his more comfortable chairs. After closing the door finally, he sat on the couch opposite.

"Have I become more exciting?"

The question was posed straight-faced as were most of his others, but his voice paused, waited for her approval.

"You are certifiably excitable. In your own way, of course."

Severus took this and straightened out a little, looking as satisfied as when a Slytherin had brought him a well-done potion.

"Tea?"

"Please."

Anything to ease her stomach. Her mind whirred, overwhelmed by finally getting something that she wanted, but Hermione couldn't help but think she'd decided on more. That was preposterous, as she had been nothing but a pest the past while to him, and he was probably eager to get rid of her.

He wouldn't be making tea if he was that bothered. The offer of sugar and cream was decadent, but she took hers black. Taking up the spoon, he added a little sugar to his cup and went on.

"You know, I was steaming earlier, but I feel much better now. Though the issues themselves have not gone away, I've distanced from them for now."

"And you've a weekend to keep that up," he added.

Severus looked at her as she smiled his way. He was completely unreadable, and Hermione decided it was time to just drop the thoughts in her head and get out as quickly as possible without being rude.

They finished their tea over small-talk, her ridiculous behavior pungent in her mind, giving her a headache on top of the somersaults her stomach was doing.

"I best leave you alone now, but I appreciate everything, really," Hermione said firmly and out loud, unlike the thirty times she had rehearsed it in her head.

"I suppose it does pay to get your mind off things then?"

"It does." Hermione rubbed her hands together and glanced towards the door.

"This was time well-spent. If you parade to my spot in Hogsmeade again, I shall be less weary. "

Here, he opened the door finally and gestured to the way out.

"Hermione," he said just as she hit the doorway where he was nearly standing himself. They were very close together, and she pieced together enough of her own thoughts to know she needed to leave.

"Yes?"

His attention was magnetic, and if she felt the legillimens probe in her mind with the eye-contact, it certainly was nothing compared to the warm hand on her face and lips on her own. The door closed shut, and her back was soon against it, though the process of their steps back were slow. His wand hit the ground, and she cursed herself for not realizing his intentions. Not that it hadn't led somewhere particularly splendid, but it certainly did feel like she'd let her guard down since the war.

That was the point of winning, and currently she was not winning but allowing him to take over in the most blissful way. Every other sin she would forgive him of if he would just keep kissing her. Hermione could never have guessed his aptitude for such activities.

Her hands grabbed at his waist and clung to his back, and whether or not she felt like she was breaking a million different rules, her mind wasn't focused on that. The stomach rolling that had plagued her earlier was sated, and somehow the firm wood of the door behind her had quelled the headache.

"Gods," he muttered, breaking from their kiss.

Hermione's chest was heaving, his far better off, but Severus took this moment to look her in the eye.

There was an apology in there somewhere for his cowardice. He could've asked her. Though the risk was probably far too great for him. Hermione pulled him closer again, realizing they were not going to be saying much.

It was lucky his eyes expressed so much as Severus leaned over her and practically begged for permission to do what he could, his eyes frantically falling all over her.

Whatever magnetic thing that drew them together meant he deserved anything and everything he wanted.

He was divine, even with not forgetting who he was. Being Severus Snape made her all the more willing, unfortunately.

Severus kissed her again, then lifted her in a fell swoop to where she ended up on the bed, another round of permissions shifting through the silence.

Hermione had never done this before, and maybe it was important to him, but it didn't seem like that big of a deal. She didn't feel like he was taking anything from her. All was freely given.

Severus' alarm woke them the next morning, despite sleeping quite early in the evening. It might not have helped they tired one-another out.

There had been no more words through the night, though Hermione discovered he was an unconscious cuddler. If he awoke at night they would either wash rinse repeat, or he would roll from his position of surrounding her as if it were unacceptable. It took that alarm where she pulled him back to her to get the point across that it didn't have to be a one-night stand.

As he himself had said, there was an entire weekend for her to enjoy.

"You know," he said groggily, in a voice that was far too intriguing for the amount of times they'd been together that night, "If you had been just a few minutes later to Hogsmeade, I would have been gone. I was just about done with my tasks for the day."

Hermione saddened at this, but thanked Merlin for the luck anyways.

To think she'd nearly missed him... Work would have a hard time getting her back that coming Monday.

~fin~