Chapter 6

As always, many thanks to Scabbyfish for beta reading!

Severus watched the altercation from just outside of the lift. He had just stepped off it when Potter and Hermione had slammed into each other. His brows lifted at the vehemence of Hermione's comments, but as he started down the hall, she pushed past Potter and stormed off in the other direction, her simple navy blue business robes barely trailing behind her.

It was ridiculously trite, but he couldn't help but think that she was beautiful when she was angry. Anger was such a passionate emotion that it heightened a person's senses – and made others aware of that heightened state.

Potter stood outside her office, if the closet-sized space where her desk was located could be called that, shaking his head in confusion. "What was that about?" Severus heard him mutter.

Severus closed the gap until he was within ten feet of the Auror-in-Training. "Apparently, she didn't want to talk to you, Potter," he snapped, but kept his voice low to avoid eavesdroppers. "Is that so difficult to understand?"

Potter's head shot up to look at him in dismay. "Snape. Couldn't you be decent and stay away? You do realise that your showing up will only make matters worse?" He followed Severus's lead, speaking quietly despite his fervour.

"On the contrary, Potter; showing up will make them acceptable." Severus smirked at the uncomprehending look on the man's face. He glanced up and down the hall to be sure no lurkers had materialised nearby before continuing. "Potter, if I stay away, and someone catches Hermione and I talking sometime in the future, then it looks like we're hiding something. If I come here, to her place of work during business hours, then we are clearly just colleagues who enjoyed an evening discussing some project or other."

The disgusted expression on Potter's face made no sense until he griped, "Since when do you call her Hermione?" Severus took the lack of protest regarding the rest of his statement to mean tacit, though definitely not admitted, agreement.

"Since we shared a meal and some companionable time together," he retorted, glossing over the other times he had seen her recently.

Potter's mouth was pursed as if he were sucking on a lemon, but his eyes showed that he was deep in thought. Severus conceded enough to add, "Potter, I have no intention of being a complete bastard to her. I could say I won't ever be unpleasant to her, but we both know there's no way I could promise that. But I will do my best not to be."

There was a meaningful pause while Potter decided what to say. "Fine," he groused, his shoulders slumping. "I won't bug her about it, but I don't like it, and I still don't like you, Snape. If you hurt her, I promise you'll regret it."

"The dislike is entirely mutual, I assure you. And if you hurt her over this, you'll regret it as well. Additionally, I suggest you not tell Weasley you've had this discussion. I somehow doubt he'll listen. Now, do you want to be here when she returns?"

Without responding, Potter skulked off to the lift and a minute later was gone in a swarm of paper airplanes.

Just in time, Severus thought as he leaned against the doorframe to Hermione's office. Seconds after the lift doors closed, Hermione came around a corner back into the hallway. She was frowning until she looked up and saw him, at which point her face relaxed into a bright smile.

She kept her voice professional, however. "Severus, a pleasure to see you again," she greeted him. Her eyes were far warmer than her platonic words.

"And you, Hermione," he returned cordially. "Do you have time to take a coffee break? I'd like to speak to you further about the project we discussed." He kept his words vague as there was the risk that they might be overheard, but he wanted to see her outside the Ministry. He kept his expression neutral as he spoke. Perhaps too neutral, if the narrowing of her eyes was any indication, but he was used to keeping private things private for safety's sake.

"Of course. Just let me set this work down." Her tone had cooled just enough for him to notice, though it was unlikely anyone else would.

They travelled by Floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron and exited to Diagon Alley. As they headed for a safe Apparition point, Severus leaned down to her and whispered, "My house." Hermione nodded, and, minutes later, they were walking along Spinner's End to his doorstep. He quickly pulled out his wand and said several incantations to unlock the door while using his other hand to pull her inside.

He heard her let out a breath when he took her hand. "I was afraid you were going to tell me it was all a mistake," she said.

Severus turned to face her, shoving his wand back into his robes. He lifted his hand to brush a few curling strands of hair out of her face and kept his eyes locked on hers as he lowered his head. Bliss, he thought. His lips moved tentatively across her own, gently coaxing her to relax and open for him.

When her fingers crept up his frockcoat and slipped around his neck, he used his free hand to slip under her outer robes and pull her closer to him so that they were pressed against one another from chest to hips. Hermione moaned, and he took advantage of her open mouth to delve in, sweeping his tongue across hers and teasing them both. When he needed to come up for air, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm sure I should be telling you that this is a mistake," Severus muttered. "But there's no way I'm going to do so. Mine."

Hermione smiled one of those smiles that only a woman who knows her effect on a man can smile. "I missed you yesterday," she said. "I knew we were probably better off not seeing each other, to keep the gossip under control, but I still missed you."

"And I missed you, as well," Severus replied, "but I'm afraid you're correct about the gossip. I don't wish for you to be hurt by it. I think we should keep our relationship – for lack of a better word – to ourselves and stay out of public areas." He was not about to let her ruin her reputation, as antiquated as he knew that sounded, over him.

Hermione looked at him, her fingers still at the back of his neck, playing with the strands of his hair at his nape. He desperately wanted to close his eyes and revel in the sensation, but it was clear that this conversation wasn't over quite yet.

"Severus, I'm not ashamed of being with you, or of being seen with you," she said quietly. "But I do realise this is going to be very difficult on my other friends, and possibly people like Minerva as well. I agree with keeping this quiet, but only to a point. I just want time to see if this relationship – and it definitely is a relationship – has long-term potential."

Hermione was thinking of long-term potential? He knew he had to be goggling at her. With him? "Hermione, I wasn't expecting you to be interested in a long-term anything with me." He couldn't envision a scenario where that worked out without her getting hurt; people were bound to snub her as they currently did him. He didn't care for himself, but she deserved better.

"Severus Snape, do you think I'm that dim-witted? If I wanted something casual and easy, I would certainly pick someone besides you to have it with. There's no way anything with you could ever be easy."

He decided that ignoring that comment might be in his best interests. "Hermione, you'll be snubbed if this gets out."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Ginny already knows, and, while she's nervous about it, she accepts it. I don't know about Harry and Ron; we'll have to see. But I'm going to be selfish and look towards my own happiness rather than worrying about theirs." Her voice was firm and decisive.

Severus was amazed. Truly, absolutely amazed. Flabbergasted. She meant it. He had no idea how to respond, so he tipped his head down and kissed her again, pouring everything he felt into it. He backed her up against the closed door and slid his hand from her back around to her waist, and slowly higher, keeping her pinned in place with his hips.

When she made no move to stop him, he closed his hand over her breast and teased her nipple through the jumper she had on beneath her robes. Hermione rubbed against his erection, and this time it was Severus who moaned. Eventually, he pulled back, gasping, "This was only supposed to be a coffee break."

Hermione was breathing as heavily as he was. "Right. Coffee break." They looked at each other and dove into another kiss, dragging each other across the foyer and into the living room, where they could stumble to the couch. Severus pulled Hermione down on top of him, his legs dangling awkwardly off the edge, but Hermione squirmed until she was on the bottom, and rubbed their hips together. Much better, he silently agreed. He was larger and heavier than she was, and the friction was much better if he was on top.

Severus didn't attempt to take things any further. Eventually, they once again surfaced for air, and this time Hermione pulled herself out from under him and quickly moved to another chair. He was left sprawled face-down, and he quickly righted himself. Still sprawled, but more acceptably so, if one could ignore his raging erection. He noticed that her hair, which normally was more contained than it had been when she was a young student, was as bushy as he'd ever seen it. Severus rather liked the fact that he had caused it, but she must have realised what he was looking at, because she quickly pulled out her wand and Transfigured a coaster into a brush.

"That was far preferable to a coffee break," she said, yanking the brush through her hair roughly. "But for the moment, I suppose I do need to get back to work. A question, though – do you have any suggestions as to what I should say when I'm asked about this project that I'm supposedly helping you with? My supervisor got all huffy about it yesterday."

"Hermione, promise me you won't talk about anything that I do for the Department of Mysteries," Severus requested quickly.

She looked at him quizzically and said, "Of course. I promise. But what do I tell them about this non-existent project?"

He smiled at her. If there was ever a good example of Gryffindor versus Slytherin thinking . . . "Just tell them I made you promise not to talk about the projects I do for the Department of Mysteries. You don't need to mention anything about this particular project then."

Hermione stopped brushing her hair and laughed. "I should have known." She Untransfigured the brush and set the coaster back on the table.

"On the subject of projects, however, I still haven't managed to Transfigure or Charm the Muggle wands to look like Weasley trick wands," he said, standing and adjusting his frockcoat and robes. He was thankful that the distraction of conversation about the Ministry had allowed his erection to subside.

"I'd love to help," she replied, standing up and adjusting her own robes and her jumper. "As long as we can take some breaks to – relax – occasionally. Transfiguration is hard work, you know."

"Indeed. Tonight?"

Hermione looked down and fiddled with her jumper a bit more. "Quite aside from the excuses I might have to start making if we see each other every day, do you think we're rushing this?" She waved vaguely between them.

Severus didn't answer right away. Sometime in the last forty-eight hours he had come to realise that Hermione was important to him. Very important. He wasn't sure if it had started when she stormed in looking for revenge on the Weasley twits, or at the café over coffee, or even at Hogwarts on the night of the Apothecary Incident. Sometime before dinner on Monday he had begun vaguely longing for more, but he had assumed that the mistakes of his past would once again stand in the way – he had expected that his penance would last indefinitely. And sometime since dinner he had realised that Hermione had snuck up into the vacant cavern in his chest – the one he had previously assumed had been ripped to shreds years ago.

And he was growing ridiculous with this poetry, he thought. Maudlin sentiment did not match up with his Department of Mysteries persona any more than it had his Hogwarts one – or any of his other personas, for that matter. Still, he assumed he would have to exert some effort to make this work. He reached out and tipped her chin up to force her to meet his gaze.

"Hermione, I'm not good at expressing these kinds of things, as I'm sure you're aware. Anger and fury, yes, even passion, but over the years I learned to hide pain and subvert anything else. Dumbledore saw more than most, because I was no older than you are now when I started teaching, and I needed an outlet. Gradually I stopped showing things even to him."

He took her hand and brought it up to right over the place in his chest he had thought was gone forever. He kept his hand over hers. "But I can already tell that whatever this is between us is important. I seem to . . . care . . . about you, and I need to do whatever I can to make it work."

Hermione gaped at him, and he couldn't bring himself to be surprised at her expression. A declaration like he had just made must seem tantamount to Dumbledore coming back to life and promptly giving up sherbet lemons. Finally, she slipped her free hand around him and leaned her head against their joined hands on his chest.

Severus rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes, the corners of his lips lifting just a bit as he relaxed.

Weeks later, they had learned a lot about each other, but they were still stumped on the wand transfiguration. They'd spent countless hours on the problem with nothing to show for it but a messy pile of wands on her coffee table. Something was eluding them. Every time they tried to Transfigure the Muggle wands, or to put some sort of illusion charm on them, it shimmered as if it was going to work, and then just died out as if nothing had been cast.

Hermione threw a wand across her sitting room in frustration. Severus looked up from his place on the couch, where he had been making some notes. He had taken off his outer robes and frockcoat when he arrived and looked as relaxed as she had ever seen him. He smirked at her. "Problem?"

"You're the problem, I think – what did you do, get a defective batch of these things?" she groused.

Severus put his notes aside and held out his hand. She joined him on the couch and snuggled in next to his side. These evenings were her favourite moments; the time spent side-by-side was becoming the way she grounded herself after the grind and tedium of her days at work. Occasionally, Severus would stop by her cubbyhole to "consult with her", but they kept those appearances professional. They hadn't pretended to slip out for coffee again since that first time, but Hermione hoped that their "consultations" were slowly accustoming people to seeing the two of them together.

Still, the time they spent together in the evenings, usually alternating between her flat and his house, was particularly precious to her. They spent the time discussing Potions and Arithmancy in addition to working on the trick wands. And, of course, there were the "relaxation" breaks, though they were taking those fairly slowly.

"I am unwilling to let a Muggle wand outwit me," Severus murmured from above her head as his arms closed around her. "But I'm unsure as to the best direction to take next. What are your thoughts?"

"Honestly?" she asked. "I think the best option is to send a vague question to Minerva and see if she can provide any insight."

She could feel him nodding. "I believe you might be right. It may well be something we could figure out eventually, but there's no point in wasting time over it if someone else knows the answer."

"I'll send a letter by owl in the morning."

"Why don't you just try contacting her via the Floo Network right now? Eight o'clock is early yet, and she may well still be in her office."

Hermione froze, uncertain. After that first dinner, they had been very careful so far to avoid being seen by the general wizarding population in the evenings. No one was ever near Spinner's End, so Hermione's visits there were easy to keep secret. And Severus's skills from his previous life were coming in handy to avoid detection when he came to her flat. Contacting Minerva while he was there, however, ran a higher risk of her slipping and letting the information out.

"What is it?" he asked, clearly picking up on her discomfort.

She pulled back to look at him as she explained. "Minerva has an uncanny ability to extract information from me. I suppose it's a product of having been her student in class and in Gryffindor. I don't care if she finds out that we're together; in fact, she'd be the next person I want to tell, but would it bother you?"

"No, it wouldn't," Severus responded. He smiled down at her with warm eyes, a look that seemed to be reserved for her alone. "She would be my choice, as well, for furthering the knowledge of our relationship. I think by now we know that this has serious potential?" They hadn't talked about where they were going in any of the weeks since their pseudo-professional meetings had become personal.

Hermione smiled back at him. "I certainly think so, yes," she agreed.

"Then I believe we should slowly accustom some of our acquaintances to the idea. It will be easier for you, once it is public, to have a foundation of people who will speak favourably for us." Severus had clearly given this a lot of thought.

"Unfortunately," Hermione said, "I think that means we need to win Harry over."

He winced at that, but nodded. "I'd prefer to let a few others know first, if possible, however."

"Of course, Severus. But why don't I go ahead and talk to Minerva about the wands. It may or may not come up."

She extracted herself from Severus's arms and moved to the fireplace. After establishing a connection, she stuck her head through and called, "Minerva, are you available, just for a few minutes?"

Minerva was sitting at her desk, writing something. "Of course, Hermione, come right through."

"Oh, no, I just have a question."

Minerva moved around her desk to take a seat by the fire, nodding for Hermione to continue.

"I'm trying to Transfigure something – a Muggle item – to change its appearance. Every time I try, nothing happens. I've experimented with various incantations and even illusion charms, but nothing works. Do you have any idea why that would happen?" Hermione asked.

"On a Muggle item, you say?" Hermione nodded. "No, I can't think of anything. May I see the item?"

Hermione hadn't thought of that and hadn't brought one near the fireplace. "Hang on just a minute, Minerva, let me get it." She started to pull her head out.

"Oh, nonsense, I'll come through," she replied.

Hermione panicked – she hadn't anticipated more than a mention of her and Severus – and quickly shook her head. "That's not necessary, Minerva, I don't want to bother you. I'll be right back."

She pulled her head out and crossed over to the pile of wands. "Why didn't I think to take one to the fire with me?" she muttered as she chose one.

Severus started to respond. "Because you were distracted by–"

He was cut off when the fire flared green. Minerva stepped out, apparently not the least bit interested in Hermione's concern for her time.

"Nonsense, Hermione," she said as she looked down and dusted off her robes. "You know I enjoy chatting with you."

"But do you enjoy chatting with me, Minerva?" Severus asked.

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice. "Severus? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"This is actually his project," said Hermione from across the room. "We have been working on it together, but he had started it before he invited me to join him."

Minerva looked back and forth between them several times. Hermione stood quietly, waiting for a reaction, and Severus kept silent as well.

Finally Minerva looked at Severus and enquired, "Would you like to explain how this project cooperation came about?"

Severus raised a brow. "Is that your real question?" he responded.

"No, of course not, though it's terribly impolite of you to call me on it." Minerva sat in the closest chair. "You're sitting here looking very comfortable and casual, Severus. I can't say that I've seen you with your frockcoat even partially unbuttoned in the last ten years, yet you're sitting in Hermione's flat without it . . ." She trailed off.

Hermione picked up the conversation. "That's not a question, Minerva," she noted. "If you'd care to ask one, Severus or I might answer."

"And your personality has clearly started rubbing off on her," Minerva continued, "so I suspect this isn't a first meeting, or even a second or third. What is going on here?"

"What does it look like?" This from Severus, who clearly was enjoying the upper hand while he had it.

"It looks like two of my former star pupils, albeit from completely different times, one of whom – oh, you know what I mean – have decided to form a . . . a . . . liaison with each other."

"And so we have," said Hermione. "But I would prefer the term 'relationship'."

"As would I," Severus agreed.

"But . . . but . . . how? Why? Hermione, I thought you and your friends hated Severus? Severus, quite aside from your loathing of all things related to Harry Potter, I thought you disdained – how did you routinely phrase it – romantic twaddle?"

Hermione turned to Severus and raised her brows. "'Twaddle'?"

He uncharacteristically shrugged and replied, "My life revolved around teenagers and their personal problems, including whatever pornographic, or at least semi-pornographic, material they managed to smuggle into the school. 'Twaddle' generally summed it up more accurately than anything else."

"I see." Hermione rolled her eyes in response and turned back to Minerva, who was staring at Severus as if he'd grown an extra head. "These things happen, Minerva. I never hated him as Professor Snape, at least not like Harry and Ron did. I always respected him. And now that I'm not a student, we have much more in common."

Hermione watched as Minerva fought some sort of internal battle, eventually nodding in agreement. "Yes, I can see that. Though I hadn't considered it before, you both do share quite of bit of intellectual common ground. I just worry that – Hermione, are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. Please don't tell me that you worry about the fact that he was a Death Eater and a spy!"

"No, of course not," Minerva assured her. "Not in the way you seem to mean, at any rate." She glanced at Severus before continuing. "I know that he's a good man, despite spending years attempting to cloud that fact with a Slytherinesque smokescreen. And I know that despite what others think, Albus could be a right stubborn pain in the arse and undoubtedly would have used a wordless, wandless Imperius Curse on Severus if that would have ensured that Draco wouldn't have to be his killer, and that Severus would be able to continue as a double agent. So I know Severus did what he needed to do, and while I'm saddened that Albus is gone, I'm just as saddened that Severus had to be the one to do it.

"Unfortunately, not everyone else thinks that way, and any relationship between the 'Supporting Heroine to the Boy Who Lived' and the 'Questionable Double Agent' is bound to be fraught with public complications," she finished.

Severus stood and stepped behind Hermione, placing a hand lightly on the small of her back. "We know, Minerva, and believe me when I say that I've tried to impart that issue into Hermione's head, but her skull is rather thick. She's very insistent, and I find it difficult to say no to her."

Hermione elbowed him hard in the gut. Annoying bastard, she thought fondly. "What Severus means to say is that we've discussed the issue multiple times and are prepared to deal with the consequences, as we both have come to care for each other. Though we did think we might first approach some friends and acquaintances who can be trusted to keep a secret. Like you."

"Of course, dear, that's exactly what I meant to say," Severus added. Hermione couldn't see his face, but she was quite sure he was sneering, albeit in as friendly a manner as was possible for him.

Minerva, on the other hand, looked as if she was about to laugh.

"I'm so glad we could provide you with your entertainment for the evening, Minerva," Hermione said.

The Headmistress composed herself and said, "Yes, indeed. I must say that it is extremely satisfying to see Severus find someone who can not only match him wit-for-wit, but also can actually put up with him."

"Oh, I certainly can't best him in a contest, but I admit I do well enough in our verbal fencing matches that I don't feel as if I've always been trounced. And that's enough to keep him on his toes."

Hermione felt him squeeze her waist and congratulated herself on getting away with that comment when ran his fingers down her side. "Stop!" she gasped. "I'm ticklish!"

"I'm quite aware of that, Hermione."

"Bastard."

"Not literally, no," he retorted.

"Figuratively, then," she said, spinning in his arms to face him.

He just quirked a brow at her. "This surprises you?"

"As charming as this discussion may be," Minerva cut in, rising from her chair, "and as surprised as I may be by the developments between the two of you, I don't believe any of that was the original reason for my visit?"

Hermione and Severus broke apart and turned to face her.

"Um – right, anyway," Hermione stuttered as she offered Minerva the Muggle wand that was still in her hand. "This is what we've been looking at. We can't figure out how an ordinary Muggle wand could be so resistant to transfiguration and charms."

Minerva took the wand and looked it over. She took out her own wand from her robes and quietly executed some incantations that Hermione didn't recognise. Neither did Severus, if the look on his face was any indication. After turning the Muggle wand this way and that, and frowning at it for several minutes, she eventually handed it back to Hermione.

"As odd as this may seem, that isn't a Muggle wand. Or at least, it wasn't made by Muggles. It's not an actual wand with a magical core like a witch or wizard would use, but it definitely has some sort of magic that's binding it in the condition it's in."

"What?" That was from Severus. "But they came from a completely Muggle joke shop in London!"

Hermione thought about it. "The joke shop was Muggle, Severus, but they don't make their own items. Was there a supplier's name on the case?"

"I don't remember," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was a little more concerned with ensuring that the products were the ones I requested."

"Do you still have the box?" asked Minerva.

Severus frowned at her. "Yes, of course."

"Then go get it!"

He glared harder at her before somewhat rudely Disapparating from the middle of the room.

Minerva looked at Hermione and said, "He's still a grumpy sourpuss, isn't he?" She took her seat again, and this time Hermione sat down on the couch opposite her.

"Of course," Hermione replied. "He wouldn't be Severus if he wasn't. Wouldn't you be worried if he turned up all sweet and rosy?"

The Headmistress laughed. "I would, at that," she agreed. "I'm glad to see that you're not going into this with false impressions of completely reforming him. He may mellow – in fact, he appears to have already done so – but nearly twenty years of cutting himself off from pleasantries and positive emotions is bound to leave some permanent changes."

Hermione nodded even as she fiddled with the ends of her hair. "He'll never be sunny and happy, but I think we balance each other out well, actually. In the other direction, when I get too focused and obsessed, he pulls me back. He's meticulous, but his experiences have made sure that he generally doesn't have a one-track mind, which could have been a deadly mistake. Harry and the Marauders excepted, that is."

Any further conversation was halted by the abrupt reappearance of the man under discussion. He looked at the two women and promptly walked over to sit next to Hermione, putting the box he was carrying on the table between the three of them.

They all stared at it for a moment before Minerva leaned forward so that she could read the printing on the top. "Forgredge, Ltd," she read.

Hermione peered at it and burst out laughing. "I wish I had thought to ask you for this earlier, Severus, as it would have saved us hours of frustration."

"I hardly see how the company name is that hysteria-provoking, Hermione. Nor do I see why it would have helped." He frowned at her.

"Perhaps their tendencies to mix things up in this regard didn't spread beyond Gryffindor, Hermione," chided Minerva.

"Apparently not," Hermione agreed. "Severus, think of the twins' names."

"Weasley? I still don't see . . ." He trailed off as Hermione shook her head.

"Their given names," she corrected.

"Fred and George? Still, that doesn't – oh, for Merlin's sake, they anagrammed it. How are they getting away with this? And why?"

Hermione turned serious. "Honestly?" she asked. "The first thing that comes to mind is that it's a somewhat twisted memorial to their father, the master of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Both creating and confiscating."

"Damn it, that means we can't use them to pull this off! Aside from the fact that they'd know instantly – we can't – if they're about Arthur . . . as odd as these wands may be, I can't disrespect him . . ."

Hermione nodded.

"Which reminds me; why were you trying to Transfigure these in the first place? If they truly were Muggle items, you'd be in violation yourself," Minerva interjected.

Hermione and Severus looked at each other and then looked back to Minerva. "You don't want to know," they said in unison.

"I see," she replied. "May I at least trust that whatever you were planning would not have caused any physical harm or lasting damage?"

Severus pinched his eyebrows together, but nodded. "War aside, when have I ever done anything to the students – or former students – that would make you think otherwise?"

Minerva had the grace to look abashed. "You haven't, Severus, and I apologise. I suppose I was just thrown off-guard by Hermione's collaboration – not that I think she would harm them, either! But I'm overly protective of those in the Order, I suppose."

"Quite understandable," Hermione said. "But I – we –" She looked at Severus, who nodded. "We promise that we won't do anything to them that they wouldn't do to others, and probably significantly less than they'd do to others."

"Very well." Minerva stood and crossed back to the fireplace, taking a handful of Floo powder from the dish on Hermione's mantle. "Since it sounds like the two of you have some planning to do, and it's getting late by now, I think I'll just head back to Hogwarts. And . . . Hermione and Severus . . . I am happy for you both, on a personal level. And I'll tell anyone who asks me that I think you're a good match."

"Thank you, Minerva," Severus replied, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "That means a lot to both of us."

"Yes, thank you, Minerva." Hermione glanced at Severus. At his infinitesimal nod, she continued, "And we were actually hoping to ask one more favour of you. Would you be willing to mention us to a few other people who can be trusted not to talk about it – especially to Harry or Ron? Remus, perhaps? The other teachers?"

Minerva looked at them critically for a moment before nodding her agreement. "I think that would be an excellent idea, and would be delighted to. Good night," she said, tossing the Floo powder into the fire and stepping through the flames. "Hogwarts Headmistress's office, password Military Tattoo."

After she was gone, Hermione turned to Severus and asked, "Now what do we do? With regards to the twins, that is."

"As my Muggle relatives would undoubtedly say, it's back to the drawing board," he responded. "But I can think of better ways to spend the rest of tonight."

Later, when Severus left, Hermione's clothes were a bit mussed and her lips were decidedly puffy, but she was quite happy about it.