Two

He just looked at her, neither confirming nor denying that he was who she thought he was. Suddenly, Hermione felt the slightest shift in the air around her. Without thinking, she cast a wandless Protego. The light that ricocheted off her shield and into one of the bookshelves, causing three books to come tumbling down with a crash, proved that her instinct had been right. She only hoped that whoever was in the front room was either deaf or didn't think it necessary to investigate.

She heard a muttered "damn", but he didn't make a second attempt. Yet, she kept her shield up. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she couldn't stop staring at the man everybody thought to be dead.

At least she'd managed to get her vocal cords back under control. 'Do you plan on trying to Obliviate me again, or can we have a conversation?'

'Why would I want to have a conversation with you?' His voice was cold.

'You... you're alive.' Her hand was shaking so badly that it became impossible to keep up the spell.

'Obviously.'

'How... I mean... why...'

'You've got exactly two minutes to explain how you found me, and if you make any attempt to alert anyone, I will Stun and Obliviate you.'

Definitely Snape. And he still knew how to be intimidating. But he was alive. Her heart continued to beat very fast while she leaned back against the nearest bookshelf. It wobbled slightly. Not her most pressing problem.

She stared at him, trying to think quickly of an explanation that wouldn't end up with her being Obliviated. The queasy feeling in her stomach wasn't helping matters at all. Stars began to dance before her eyes.

'One minute and a half.'

'I didn't.'

Snape just looked at her.

'One minute.'

This was not going well. Hermione drew a deep breath. 'I didn't come looking for you. As far as I knew, you'd been dead for nearly a decade. I saw you die. How can you be alive? I mean, I'm glad you are, but I didn't know... Oh, Merlin. You're alive.'

Finally processing that the man she had mourned was indeed standing in front of her, living and breathing, caused a warm tingly feeling to spread through her. It didn't last long.

'You're glad I'm alive?' Snape looked at her oddly for a second before he continued. 'Be that as it may. I won't give you a chance to go away and blab to anyone about it.'

'I understand.'

Snape snorted.

'Right, maybe I don't. But will you at least talk to me? Just for a bit? If you want to remain dead to the wizarding world, I respect that. But there're so many things I'd like to know. Please?' She hardly dared to breathe.

Snape's face had taken on an expression she couldn't discern. 'That doesn't mean I won't Obliviate you.'

'Of course not. A drink? I saw a brasserie just down the road.' Hermione tried to keep her voice steady.

'One drink.' Snape took the book he had been looking at when she came in and started to walk towards the front room.

'Dinner?'

'Don't push your luck, Miss Granger.'

*****

The small brasserie was nearly empty, so they sat at a table by the window. Hermione noticed that Snape chose the seat overlooking the entrance, which left her with a good look of the menu that someone had scrawled on a blackboard. After they had ordered a glass of vin de pays, red for Snape, white for herself, she perused the list of dishes.

'God, I'm hungry. The ratatouille sounds positively delicious, don't you think?'

Snape narrowed his eyes at her but didn't seem to think her remark worthy of a response. Still, when Hermione ordered socca and the ratatouille, he chose the pissaladière for himself. Hermione quickly quelled the little grin that wanted to spread over her face.

They ate in silence; neither seemed to mind. The food was excellent, though Hermione hardly noticed what she was eating because she kept sneaking glances at the man opposite her. He hadn't changed all that much but looked significantly less gaunt than in her last year at Hogwarts. His hair was slightly longer with a few silver threads among the black, and the light tan he had acquired went well with his dark eyes and his prominent features. Two thin white scars ran upwards from his shirt collar, the only visible remains of Nagini's attack. He still dressed in black, but the Muggle outfit he wore made him seem less daunting than his ever-billowing robes. Or maybe he didn't need to scare anyone anymore; in any case, it suited him. She wondered if he was tanned everywhere and what his skin would feel like under her fingers. The room suddenly seemed to have grown a lot warmer. To her surprise, she found Snape's eyes resting on her as well when she looked up. She quickly directed her attention back to breaking another piece of the crusty white bread.

At last, their plates were cleared. Upon a little sign from Hermione, the waiter brought them fresh glasses of wine. Snape raised an eyebrow but didn't mention the fact that the one drink had somehow turned into dinner and two glasses of wine so far. He leaned back in his chair and fixed his look once more on Hermione. 'Why don't you start asking all the questions that are doubtless plaguing you, Miss Granger, so we can get this over with?'

Hermione took a sip from her glass, trying to decide where to start. There was so much she wanted to know, and perhaps this was her only chance to ever talk to him. What if he vanished again after tonight? Before her throat could start to feel tight again, she quickly asked, 'How did you do it? I thought I saw... you know.'

'During the last year of the war, Voldemort had begun to use the snake as a weapon, and I didn't discount the possibility that he might use it against me...in the end. So I began to take anti-venin on a regular basis.'

'But those wounds...' Hermione's eyes trailed to the thin scars on his neck.

'...would have been lethal, if I hadn't been found in time and received treatment.'

Hermione didn't know what to say. This time, the silence that stretched between them wasn't comfortable. Finally, she whispered, 'I went back to the Shrieking Shack after the battle, but you were gone. Harry had told us all about what you did and why. Kingsley had Aurors looking for your body for weeks. To... to give you a proper burial.' She quickly wiped away the tears that were threatening to leak down her cheeks.

'How touching.'

'I'm sorry.' The words coming out of her mouth sounded so ridiculous. What did she mean to apologise for? Leaving him for dead without ever checking his pulse? Doubting and hating him? Or his miserable life? More tears threatened to run down her cheeks.

'Don't be.' Despite his harsh words, his voice was surprisingly gentle.

'But I am. Really. For years I've wished that I could talk to you once again, just once. There were so many things I wanted to tell you, and... and now... now I'm messing it all up.' She sniffled, trying to wipe away the wetness with the result that she smeared it all over her face. She blindly fumbled for one of the chequered napkins until her fingers found a soft piece of cloth. Hermione dabbed at her eyes until they were itchy, but at least they were dry, now. She didn't dare to look up at Snape again. Feeling like a complete idiot, she crumpled the napkin in her hands only to realise that it should have been bigger and coarser. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a white hanky. Oh. Now she did raise her head to find Snape looking at her, his expression unreadable. He pushed a glass of water towards her. 'Drink.'

The cool liquid running down her throat felt wonderful; she gulped down almost the whole glass.

'Thank you.' Hermione was about to give him back his hanky, but the sight of the crumpled grey ball that had been a pristine white piece of cloth a few minutes before had her quickly withdrawing her hand.

A corner of Snape's mouth started to twitch ever so slightly. 'Why don't you just keep it.'

'Erm, yes. Thanks.'

'What have you been doing? Have you been here all this time?'

Snape shook his head. 'No. I'd always wanted to travel a bit. I came here about a year ago.'

'Marseille seems to be a nice city.'

'It's as good a place as any. Now, Miss Granger, I believe it is my turn. What brings you here?'

'A job.'

'What kind of job?'

Hermione found it hard to concentrate any longer. How much did she want to tell him? Her feet and her back hurt; a headache began to form behind her temples, and the room was too warm. A bath would be nice...and a bed, but if she left now, she would never see Snape again. He would just disappear out of her life again. Suddenly, that seemed the worst thing that could possibly happen. But maybe...

'I'll tell you tomorrow.'

A dark eyebrow went up. 'We are not meeting tomorrow.'

'But we could, couldn't we? Just for coffee?' Hermione's heart had started to beat a little faster again. 'You could always Obliviate me afterwards if you wanted,' she added quickly.

Snape regarded her with a quizzical expression on his face. Her heartbeat seemed to accelerate further with the seconds ticking by.

'Ten a.m. Les Danaïdes.'

After they had paid, they stood in front of the brasserie. Snape nodded. 'Goodnight, Miss Granger.'

'Goodnight. See you tomorrow.' On impulse, Hermione placed a swift peck on his cheek and then walked away quickly before he had time to react.

One a.m. found her standing at the open window of her hotel room, looking out into the dark, surprisingly warm, Mediterranean night and the city below. The map, on which she had looked up the café, rustled in the soft wind. She realised that Snape hadn't told her all that much. Who had saved him? What was he doing in Marseille? Was he disguised as a Muggle? How did he earn his living? Would he even show up tomorrow? What if he didn't? The latter question had her pacing around her room until the wee hours.

*****

When Hermione arrived at the café at a quarter to ten, Snape was already there. Warmth spread through her at seeing him alive and well, reading a Muggle newspaper. She joined him at the table and ordered a café au lait.

'You came,' she said.

Snape folded his newspaper. 'I believe we had an appointment.'

'I would have searched for you.'

'You wouldn't have found me.'

'Oh, really? I'm good at finding hidden things.'

'Not good enough.'

'I found you without even looking for you. What did you think would happen if I did look for you?'

'You wouldn't stand a chance.'

'Not over-confident, are we?'

'Merely capable.'

'Right.' Hermione grinned. To her surprise, she saw that Snape's mouth had curled upward, too. She had never seen him really smile before; it took years off him. He looked rather nice, actually. Not conventionally handsome, but his dark hair and eyes, combined with his cheekbones and nose, made for a very attractive combination. A little tingle in her belly agreed with her assessment.

'So, Miss Granger, what brings you to Marseille?'

'I'm looking for a book.'

'Indeed.'

The eyebrow was wandering upward again. Hermione found she was becoming rather fond of it. 'I...hang on. What were you doing in that bookshop?' she asked.

'I, too, was looking for a book. Which is what one generally does in a bookshop, I believe.'

'You were in the Erotica section.'

'As were you,' Snape pointed out. 'Or did you stumble into it by coincidence?'

'No. I collect erotic books. I wanted to see if there was anything interesting.' Hermione raised her chin defiantly, just in case he had something to say about her hobby. At least, that was what she preferred to call it. Ginny would have called it an obsession.

As it turned out, he didn't. He looked rather intrigued. 'Not a very common interest; one I happen to share, though. How did you discover a taste for the more delectable areas of reading?'

'In the beginning, it was a bit silly. I thought I could learn something from these books.' Hermione paused.

Snape's face remained neutral. 'Did you?'

'No. Other than that it wasn't necessarily my technique that was lacking. Instead, I became fascinated by the different ways Erotica could be represented in writing and in art. I started to compare wizarding and Muggle books from various periods and how they differed in their approaches. The more I found out, the more I wanted to know, and now I look for books on the subject whenever I have the chance.'

When Snape nodded but didn't say anything, she asked, 'Where does your interest derive from?'

'I was bored. I spent nearly a year recovering from the bloody snakebite and couldn't do much else other than reading. So I would read whichever books I could get my hands on, a number of which were of an erotic nature. I developed an interest in the subject, found more books while I was travelling, and now regularly check a couple of antiquarian bookshops for their latest acquisitions. Which is what I was doing yesterday, to answer your earlier question.'

He seemed to be speaking to a point somewhere below her chin, which was usually the point at which she told a bloke where to stuff it. Snape's look didn't feel unpleasant, though. When he realised that she had caught him, he busied himself quickly with his coffee cup.

'Which reminds me that you haven't answered mine. So, what are you doing in Marseille? Other than looking for books.'

'Actually, I am looking for a book. It's my job. I can't tell you too much about it, obviously, client confidentiality, but I'd be grateful for any information about who else might deal in used books. I've already been through all the antiquarian bookshops.'

'Hm, I presume we're talking about a wizarding book? English?' Snape asked.

'Yes, a family genealogy. It could also be with a collector,' Hermione replied.

'Hm,' Snape said again. 'Are you sure it's here? Did it come here legally?'

'It didn't leave Britain legally to begin with. That's why my client wants it back.'

'Hm,' Snape said for the third time. 'I might know someone who might know something, but I'd need a more detailed description of the book.'

Hermione hesitated. Could she trust him? She knew he was trustworthy on a general level, but what about the specifics? She had no idea what his relation to the Malfoy family was. Did he despise them, hate them even? Or had they been friends? But then again, the world considered him dead; it was unlikely he would risk his cover, wasn't it? Still, better keep Malfoy's name out of it. She took the drawing of the book out of her bag and handed it to Snape.

He looked at it for a long time, his face guarded, then he asked. 'Who is your client?'

Hermione remained silent.

'Let me phrase this differently. Are you working for Lucius Malfoy?'

'Would it influence your decision to help me if I did?'

'Maybe.'

'In a good way?'

Snape didn't say anything. It seemed she wouldn't get anywhere without telling him. Hermione waited a few seconds longer, then she admitted, 'All right, Lucius Malfoy employed me to find his book.'

Dark eyes fixed on her.

'Stop it. I know what you're trying to do. I'm not lying to you. As strange as it may sound, I'm indeed working for Malfoy.'

Snape relaxed visibly. No hatred for the Malfoy family, then.

'How did the book get lost?'

'It was among the things the Ministry confiscated after the war. It disappeared while under the Ministry's care.'

'The Ministry botched it up, and now they're hoping that you'll fix it. Why doesn't that surprise me,' Snape said.

'The Ministry has nothing to do with it.'

Now Snape did look surprised.

'I stopped working for the Ministry two years ago. I wasn't too happy with the way they handled certain things. I'm working as an independent Charms consultant now,' Hermione explained.

'Still, it strikes me as odd that you of all people would work for Lucius.'

'It's a favour for Ginny, really. She's married to Draco.'

'I know,' Snape said.

Now it was Hermione's turn to look surprised.

'The Daily Prophet is sold in many places all over the world,' Snape pointed out.

'I know. I just didn't expect...'

'That I would follow what's happening in Britain? Just because I've no desire to live there anymore doesn't mean I'm not interested in knowing what's going on. It was hard to miss that particular story.'

'It was horrible for Ginny. The Prophet had a field day. And nobody cared to find out the facts.' Hermione shuddered to remember the headlines in the gossip section.

Snape's upper lip curled. 'I'm not particularly interested in the doubtless fascinating particulars, either. I'm sure it was terrible for your friend. So, Lucius has asked you to find his book?'

'Yes. Will you help me?' Hermione asked.

'I remember that book. It was one of Lucius's favourites. Most of the time, he kept it close at hand.'

Hermione watched as Snape's face took on a peculiar expression. 'I know someone who might be able to help us if the book is in Marseille. However, you will not mention my connection to Lucius,' he said.

'Of course.'

'I've some other things I need to take care of. Meet me back here at half four.' Snape rose and left, leaving Hermione to stare after him. Her gaze was arrested by his black jeans that were clinging snugly to his hips. Who would have thought that those voluminous teaching robes had hidden such a nice arse?

*****

Hermione spent the next few hours wandering aimlessly through La Plaine. She looked at some monuments and went browsing through a number of shops without really seeing anything. By four o'clock, she was back at the café. Snape turned up at exactly half past.

Without preamble, he said, 'I've made some enquiries. If the book is here, we'll find it. One of my contacts can meet us here tomorrow morning. We'll know more then.'

Hermione smiled at him. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

Silence stretched between them. Hermione looked at Snape. Would he leave immediately again? It would be nice to spend some time with him.

'Marseille is a beautiful city. At least in some parts. Have you had the chance to see anything yet?' Snape asked.

Hermione shook her head. 'Not much. I saw a bit of the area around here, but mostly I was busy searching for the book.'

'If you like, I could show you the vieux port,' Snape offered.

Hermione beamed at him. 'That would be very nice.'

*****

Hermione squinted at the ceiling; it was made of the same rough stone as the walls and the chancel above.

'Do you think the whole monastery looked like this?'

Snape nodded. 'It did. It was all built from the same material.'

Hermione shivered and sidled closer to him. 'It's very impressive, but imagine having to live in such a thing all year round.'

'Especially without warming charms.'

'Mmmh, good thing there's body heat.' Another inch closer.

'Not if you're a monk.' Snape didn't move away.

After they had looked at the rest of the relics in the crypt, they went back upstairs.

Outside, Hermione took a last look at the impressive front of the Abbey of Saint Victor before she briefly closed her eyes and tilted her head upward to let the sun caress her face. It felt nice with the warm air smelling faintly of the sea. A mixture of sounds drifted into her ear: the noises of the city, the boats bobbing gently up and down at the quay, and the voices of the people around them. A sense of well-being spread through her that increased when she opened her eyes and looked at the man next to her.

'Shall we take a stroll along the quay?' she suggested.

Snape didn't have any objection, so they walked along the rows of sailing boats and yachts interspersed with the occasional colourful fishing boat.

'Which one do you fancy?' Hermione asked.

'Sorry?' Snape looked at her oddly.

'The boats. It's a game I used to play with my parents when we were on holiday. My father loves boats, so we would often go and look at them. He would ask me to pick one for a trip or a cruise,' Hermione explained.

'Right. So are we talking about a little tour along the coast or a grand cruise?'

'Oh, definitely a cruise. Let's see. This one looks nice, or that one over there.'

'The first one.' Snape pointed at the sleek white sailing boat in front of them.

'Yes, I think you're right. That's ours, then. So where would we go? Oh, I know. Let's go to Greece. I've always wanted to see the excavations at Delphi and...'

'I've been to Delphi.'

'Oh, excellent. You can show me around, then. And we can go to Egypt next. I've been to Egypt; I can show you everything.' In her enthusiasm, one of her hands had landed on Snape's arm. She hadn't noticed until he looked at it. He didn't seem to mind, so she left it where it was.

'How long did you plan to travel?'

'I don't know. As long as it takes.'

'Maybe some dinner first, then? There's an excellent little restaurant a bit further down,' Snape suggested.

'Sounds good.'

*****

Hermione drained the last sip from her coffee cup. It was still warm enough to sit outside, and she was casting around for something that would keep the man opposite her there for a little bit longer.

'It's a lovely evening,' she said.

Snape just looked at her, then he said, 'Would you like to go for a stroll along the Corniche? The view is very nice.'

So Snape didn't want their day together to end, either? The little flutter in her belly told Hermione that she would like that very much indeed. 'Yes, I'd love to.'

They walked along the stone path that started from the vieux port and wound around the coastline.

'You were right. Down here, Marseille is a very beautiful city.' Over the water, the sun was slowly sinking, casting everything under a warm, orange glow.

'Let's walk a little further, and then you'll have an excellent view of the château d'If,' Snape suggested.

Hermione nodded. 'At least you weren't incarcerated.'

'Not all prisons have walls.'

They reached a little curve and stopped. Snape was right; the view was breathtaking.

They stood watching the ancient castle across the water until the sun had sunk completely. Hermione shivered.

'Are you cold?'

'A bit.'

Snape took off his black leather jacket and dropped it around Hermione's shoulders.

'Thank you.' She turned and found him looking at her. For a while, they remained caught in each other's gaze, then Snape slowly raised one hand to her face and let his fingers trace the curls at her temple. Hermione felt his touch all the way through her body down to her toes. She swallowed, and her heartbeat started to race as his hand moved down the side of her neck. Then his mouth closed the distance between them. His lips were smooth and warm as they met hers. Hermione responded by trailing her tongue over his bottom lip, coaxing a little sigh from Severus before he opened his mouth to her. His hand sneaked through her hair and around to the nape of her neck, drawing her nearer to him and leaving goose-pimples in its wake. Her own arms came up around his back, pulling his warm body even closer to her, while their tongues were caught in a slow, sensual dance.

Eventually, they had to come up for air. They smiled at each other. 'That was nice, for a first kiss,' Hermione said.

Snape's eyebrow was wandering towards his hairline again. 'Just nice? I think we should try again.'

'We definitely should. Just to make sure.'

'Indeed.' With that, their mouths met once more. They tried again several times, during the course of which "nice" was upgraded to "very nice" and eventually to "wow", until it finally became too cold to stand at the water's edge.

They walked back to the harbour area in silence, Severus's arm around Hermione's shoulders.

At the bus stop, she took off his jacket. He refused to take it. 'You'll be cold.'

'Thank you. See you tomorrow?'

'See you tomorrow.'

Back in her hotel room, after a long hot shower, Hermione couldn't sleep. She got up and walked over to the window. For the second night, she stood there, looking out into the dark. She couldn't think of anything but Severus's kisses. And every time she did, her body tingled all over. She took his jacket from the chair she had dropped it on earlier and ran her hands over the soft black material before she buried her face in it. It smelled of leather, of the sea air and of Snape. She sighed. She remained standing at the window a while longer, then she put the jacket on and went back to bed. This time she slept. Soundly.

*****

A/N: Many thanks to Melusin, Anogete and Chivalric for their fabulous beta and alpha reading skills.