Hermione held her card-stock invitation in hand as she walked into the new Potion's store in Diagon Alley.

It had been a long summer, and as fall approached, she had been invited to the wedding of one Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood. A pair that would go down in history for sure. They had worked in the same department at the Ministry for only a month before they started dating, and as they say, the rest is history!

To be fair, Hermione was only so upset over their relationship in her head because of the way her own had ended.

Ron and her had sort of... fizzled out, per se. She had been trying to keep in touch during her year back at Hogwarts, but with N.E.W.T.s and exams, and Ron's field tests, it was hard to communicate with such little time. The next thing they knew, they didn't entirely have a relationship coming back together for her graduation at the end of the year.

She was not at all upset with Draco or Luna for figuring out their love lives so spectacularly, in fact, her appreciation for their relationship was true and vivid, but her own dating lacked tremendously. Hermione yearned to get to their level automatically, to have something nice just click so she no longer had to wallow alone.

That's why she sighed as she looked at the invitation before walking the rest of the way into the shop, the little plus one, taunting her.

"Miss Granger."

Her head snapped up, but not because of being addressed that way, no. Almost everyone knew who she was. The voice that spoke had been so smooth, and Hermione couldn't help but find it alluring. Then again, it could be her very starved attractions grasping at straws.

"Hello, I'm afraid I need your help," she said strongly, attempting to push down the fact she'd been into his voice.

The man behind the counter, presumably the owner of the store, was tall and probably in his forties. At twenty-three, that age group was probably not the best option for her.

"Surely," the man replied, looking complacent.

He did not seem to be stunned by her, which was good. She hated the deer in headlights look she got from some people.

"I am invited to a wedding, though if you read The Prophet, you'll know very well which one. If not, it says it right here," she showed him the invitation, his smile and nod indication that he already knew, "and I need something for my hair. It is completely unmanageable the way it is, and the sleek-easy is harder to get out than the devil."

He chuckled, another sound she found to be pleasing to her.

"Well, I carry mostly my own things, if that's alright with you... you'll just have to trust me when I say I have something for you."

She huffed, "Anything to get my hair into place."

He tapped the counter, indicating he would be right back and disappeared. She couldn't help but notice the muggle attire he wore beneath his open robe, with hands that looked as though they made potions day and night. Long fingers and small little burns everywhere.

Hermione really needed a life.

Glancing about the place, she caught eye of a few name-brand potions... or as name-brand as they got, and then the various amounts of ingredients and such that came from many places she remembered Snape making her memorize in her youth. Most of it had been completely useless information.

He came back, making little noise bar the movement of his robe, and she studied him, feeling like she knew him from somewhere. This shop had been recommended to her by Draco, who said he knew the owner, and she had been wanting to mention that!

"One jar for your purchase, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, and my total?"

"One galleon and five sickles."

She handed him the money quickly, looking at the jar in hopes to find what was in it, but as with all magical things, it did not seem to be able to clue her into anything.

"Oh," she reminded herself aloud, "I was supposed to mention that Draco sent me, how do you know him?"

The man looked at her oddly, as if he didn't know how to answer the question.

"If it is a bad story, you needn't tell me," Hermione said quickly as she turned the jar in her hands over and over.

"Not to worry. I met Draco when he was nothing but a boy."

He did not seem inclined to share anything else, so she decided that it was probably time to leave the man to his peace.

"Well, thank you again Mr.-" It was then that she realized she hadn't even caught his name.

"Sem Samsen."

Hermione did her best not to laugh at the ridiculousness of his name, but she supposed nothing could be worse than some of the names that had come from the Black family.

"Thank you, Mr. Samsen."

A brief bow, and Hermione vacated the store, her immediate attraction to the man still not entirely gone from her mind. She briefly imagined how her parents would react if she brought someone home just a bit younger than them, long brown hair, and rather professional dressed in the black muggle attire he'd been wearing. They wouldn't like him one bit, and she put him from her mind.

She was going to try the little jar in her hand the next day, and if she liked it, Hermione was almost certain she could find herself back there looking for more.

That, and she had plenty of other shopping to do, but so as to not be recognized and followed everywhere too often, she only made one or two stops to collect the things she needed for the wedding. And maybe she would merely go in to say hello, simply because she was there.

There was no harm in making Draco's friends her own, and besides, at the Ministry she had lots of friends who were plenty older than her, no harm in that.

-

Severus was rummaging through boxes when Draco announced his name loudly, asking where he was.

"In the back," he said loudly, then quietly under his breath, "You loud fool."

"Did Hermione stop in today?"

"She did," he confirmed, remembering how he barely recognized the young woman in his shop. There had been so few people who had grown as quickly as she had, losing that young look in favor of that of a grown adult.

To Severus, who seldom ever appreciated anyone outside characters in books, it had been a shock for him to intake her like he had.

"And?" Draco wondered, because for some reason he had it in his brain that she would sniff him out.

"She had no clue, you nosy brat. I told you my skills are unmatched in potions, why do you not concede?"

"Because Polyjuice potion has been around for years, and you just made it give you the capability of a Metamorphmagus, practically!" Draco was far too excited for Severus.

"And who would care, hm? Everyone hates me anyways, they would find some way to cart me off to Azkaban for it," he mentioned bitterly.

No one cared for him, and he did not blame them for feeling that way. The only one who really championed him was Harry Potter, and even Potter was only half-sold on the good he'd done for the war. All of this was partly why he'd rescinded his Order of Merlin.

Then there was Draco and his little bride, of course. Draco was simply history Severus could not erase, and Lovegood seemed to find the good in everything. He envied that quality, feeling that he could only find the bad in the same things she saw light in.

"Well, no Azkaban for you, you must be at my wedding!"

"As me or as Sem Samson?" Severus wondered.

"That's what you told her?" Draco howled with laughter as he pulled over a chair to where he was rummaging and shook his head, "Merlin, and you're sure she didn't figure you out?"

"I was too stunned to think of something logical, and stop snickering. You would have done no better."

"Hardly," Draco snipped.

After the box was rightfully organized and Severus removed himself from the floor, he led Draco back out to the front where the store remained empty. Considering it was past closing time, he expected this. The time when Miss Granger had come in was unusually quiet, for the store tended to draw crowds.

Then again, knowing the impudent witch that she was, she had probably planned it out that way. She never did seem the attention grabbing type.

It was hard for anyone involved in the war to stay out of the papers for too long though. Even with his reclusive life and set of several preventative potions, he couldn't always shake the reporters.

"About what you said earlier, if you would prefer to come as your now named alter-ego, then by all means. Yourself is just as fine, but prepare for the reception."

Severus sighed, feeling that attending was hopeless.

"What a tedious affair, and what dimwitted fools for being as they are. I apologized through the papers, what more would they like to keep from biting at me?"

Draco frowned.

"For Nagini to have actually killed you off."

Feeling quite black about the whole affair, Severus waved the idea off, "Mr. Sem Samson will have to do. Besides, I can gather up some more business while I am at it."

"Good, yes, think of my wedding as your marketing opportunity," Draco said, jesting lightly, "Not the day in which someone you've watched grow up becomes the happiest wizard in bloody London."

"Happily," Severus drawled, none too amused by the theatrics Draco was capable of.

"Let me know if anyone figures you out in the near future. I mean, you certainly didn't change much. Brown hair instead of black, smaller nose --good touch-- and your eyes too? Can't really tell in this bloody terrible lighting."

"Yes," Severus hissed, feeling as though Draco was prying for something he wouldn't give up, "Brown, but not too far off of black. I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror otherwise."

"Join the club," the blonde muttered in reply, and suddenly their mood was no longer joking.

"Do not forget yourself, Draco. The only thing you have to mull over is the fact that you will be at a loss of your bachelor status."

A positive nod, and Severus had achieved his goal of getting the poor boy back into good spirits. There was no use dwelling on the sadness when, in reality, they had good futures to look forward to. And Draco could live his as himself, no need to hide behind his modified polyjuice farce.

It was a feat of potions, or so Draco had said. After the backlash he'd received when the war was over and wrapped under a nice tidy bow called history, he had shut himself in Spinner's end. Not that he lived in that dreary place anymore, but it had been where his new hybrid potion had been born, and he looked back on the townhouse fondly.

Mostly... not really.

"I'll see you then, and let me know if anyone figures it out. Still can't believe Granger didn't."

Severus shrugged in reply.

"See you then."

Shaking off the odd way he remembered Hermione taking him in, Severus took his mind off of the witch and focused on the potion he had concocted twice over in his head already. His fingers itched to put it into a cauldron and headed upstairs to do just that thinking that he wouldn't entirely mind seeing Granger once again.

{1/4}

A/N

Same concept as A Date, but also different. Also a little OOC, but who cares?