Chapter Text
Hermione swung the door shut, with her back against the thick wood, she slammed her fists against it.
How could she not have seen this coming? She knew it had to come to an end, but now? During the most stressful time of her adult life?
Hermione and Ron had done this many times before. It had been several years since they had really tried to make a relationship work. People had come and go from their lives, but they were always there to curb the boredom whenever they found themselves both single. This time, however, was different.
In truth, she was no longer attracted to him in ‘that’ way. He was a friend. A familiar, constant and predictable factor in her life. Having already been through the trials and tribulations of losing their virginity to one another and knowing they would always be friends, it seemed the only logical choice to indulge in any unchaste moods with him, opposed to some stranger.
It had been working quite well, actually. Until tonight.
I love her, he had said. Wonderful.
I mean it. We are moving in together. Brilliant.
Hermione, we can’t… you know, do stuff together. Not anymore. Obviously.
In further truth, she was happy for him. Very happy for him. After the war, the trauma, the loss that they had all been through, all Hermione wished for her friends and family was happiness. They deserved it. Even if it inconvenienced her. But she would still be sore about it.
Harry and Ginny were engaged, Luna and Neville had each found their match… Even Draco was in talks to be married. This typically never bothered Hermione, but after losing her last companion in solitude, it was on her mind.
Well, maybe not her last…
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Hermione slipped on her dress- a cabernet colored velvet dress. It was calf length, with a dramatic swooping neckline. She slipped on her sensible yet elegant heels, collected a mass of curls atop her head with an obscene amount of muggle hair pins, and then applied a swipe of coffee colored lipstick. Most young women were fond of using glamours for such occasions, but Hermione was a firm believer that not everything was improved by magic.
Grabbing her leather baguette bag, she shoved inside the keys to her flat, a small spiral notebook and pen, her lipstick of choice, mints, a cereal bar, a bottle of water, three of the books she was currently reading, tissues, a pair of well worn trainers, a cardigan she had knitted, and her favorite perfume.
Some things were improved by magic.
Before heading to the floo, she gave Crookshanks a scratch on his head, set a few treats on the modest kitchen table and promised him that she would not be back late. He was as indifferent to her promise as ever.
Hermione arrived at the gala prepared for a dreadfully slow moving evening. These events were filled with handshaking, networking, and on occasion, interesting conversation.
This was to be the last social event before the long awaited renovations to Hogwarts castle were to be formally unveiled. They had welcomed back the students and resumed classes not long after the war, but much of the castle had still been in need of severe restoration and had been blocked off. In a few weeks time there would be yet another gala- invitation only- where the school would be reopened in its entirety after a summer of changes.
After the war, Hermione chose not to return for her seventh year and opted to attempt her NEWTs. To absolutely no one’s surprise, she had passed them all with Outstandings.
Harry and Ron had decided to begin Auror training, and Hermione pursued a career at the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Knowing that she was actively participating in improving the lives of theses creatures was extremely rewarding to her… she also enjoyed the paperwork.
As a ministry employee, she was often required to make an appearance at events like this evening’s, some award being given to someone she had never met but was expected to revere. Working at the Ministry, she had become acquainted with many people from many walks of life. Overall, she was treated with respect. Being a member of the Golden Trio did provide some advantages, but there were bigots on occasion who simply could not let go of their prejudices. Which Hermione felt was a great shame, and she pitied them for their small mindedness.
Making her way through the crowded hall, she bowed, nodded, waved, shook the occasional hand, and accepted the glass of elderflower wine that was offered to her by a house elf she had helped several weeks ago in finding respectful employment. She thanked her and kept moving.
Hermione stopped to take a sip of the wine. When the sweet taste coated her tongue, she sighed with pleasure. It had been a long week, this was the start of a hopefully relaxing weekend ahead. She drained her glass without realizing how deeply she had drank.
“My, my, Miss Granger. If you keep that pace, your beloved house elves will have no choice but to apparate you to your flat before you hurt yourself. Then there would be no one left to champion them.”
Hermione smiled at the silky voice behind her before she turned around. She had been looking for him, but he had found her this time.
“That’s very rich, coming from someone I know for certain is on their third fire whiskey - at least.”
She turned around and looked up into the face of Severus Snape.
After a near fatal attack from Nagini, the former potions master was now working at the Ministry’s Department of Magical Education. He had always been partial to high collared robes, even more so these days as they hid his scar well, but he had occasionally been seen sporting a cravat as well. This evening, however, his emerald robes pooled around him like liquid. The black dress shirt underneath contrasting with the green robe, and his endless dark eyes sparkled. His hair, ebony as ever, hung to his shoulders, framing his face. Severus’s gnarled scar peaked out of his collar.
A twitch of his lip betrayed the smile he was holding back.
“Perhaps, you are correct. If so, I fear you have some catching up to do.” He handed her another glass of the floral wine.
They held each others’ gaze while they both sipped at their glasses.
“Have you found a seat yet? I’m afraid if I don’t sit soon I’ll have to change into my trainers,” Hermione shifted on her already aching feet.
“I-,” a hand on Hermione’s shoulder stopped Severus’ reply.
“Miss Hermione Granger! Would you do me the honor of a dance? I insist,” Rolf Scamander, a colleague she often worked with in her field - and Luna’s partner. “You must hear all about what Luna and I have been researching as of late.”
As she was swept away, Severus swiped her glass from her hand and she watched him disappear into the crowd.
After ten or so very long minutes, she was free from Rolf, having learned nothing new, as expected. Hermione was off to find another glass of wine. Once she had procured a glass, she scanned the crowd for Severus. Hermione did several laps round the room before she began to suspect that he may have left. Just as she had began to lose hope, she spotted him.
He was trapped in a conversation he was not enjoying, although his demeanor was more or less the same it had always been, Hermione was familiar with the subtle clues that betrayed his mood.
Over the last few years, she and Severus had developed quite an agreeable friendship. Once Voldemort had fallen and the dust had settled, Hermione, Harry and Ron had learned that Severus had survived the serpent’s attempt on his life. She and Harry had been to visit him during his several month stay at St Mungo. As time passed, Harry’s attendance became less and less frequent until it was only Hermione and Severus in the white sterile room during those quiet afternoons.
She would bring him tea, books, and clothes from his chambers at the school. Though he often regarded her company as a nuisance, he had never once asked her to leave. Other than Harry’s rare drop ins, she was not sure he had many other visitors. And although his part in the war had been revealed, in those first few months, he was still regarded with distrust and apprehension- from both sides.
Hermione could never really understand how the public did not see him as a hero, a man of great courage, and a true master of occlumency.
Once he had been cleared by the Wizengamot, he began his employment with the ministry around the same time Hermione herself did. They would often run into each other in corridors, at the floos, nearby shops… It seemed they could not escape each other. So Hermione decided they should stick together and embark on the journey as friends- whether he liked it or not.
Hermione made her way to Severus and his captor.
“…And so, I say to him, thats not my cauldron!” An obnoxious laugh escaped the lips of Henry Hurst, a young wizard who worked in the Department of Magical Equipment Control.
Severus grunted in response.
“Hello, Henry,” she greeted politely, “I am so very sorry to interrupt, but Theodora Tang was asking if you were present, Henry. I think she’s by the pudding table.” Hermione gave Henry a tight lipped smile.
“Oh, ‘scuse me, Snape. Miss Granger.” He nodded his goodbye and eagerly slipped away into the crowd.
“You are getting better at better at deception, Miss Granger.” Severus raised an eyebrow at her.
“Must be the company I keep,” she said pensively.
“I’m afraid I must agree. I thought you could sink no lower than Potter and the Weasley boy, yet here you are consorting with a former Death Eater,” he accused with a still quirked brow.
“What can I say? I have very poor taste.” She smiled brightly at him. “Let’s get another drink.”
They drank and ate, discussed work and other relevant current events until enough of the evening had past that it would not be rude if they left. They walked to the floo point together.
“Lunch tomorrow? The noodle shop?” Hermione asked as she was elbow deep in her small bag.
Severus stared at her curiously. “I suppose,” he answered with a sigh. He shook his head at her and turned to leave.
She shouted goodbye to him, he waved it away.