The Grand Tour

~~ I don't own the Harry Potter universe, and I doubt anybody would pay me for my writing even if I did have the right to demand money, money that belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.

So I'm just F-y-i-a-g-c-g.

Hermione and Severus looked around the apartment. Hermione considered her surroundings and tried to take everything in without voicing any opinions she had aloud, yet. She had learned – the hard way – just how long her companion needed silence when confronted with a new situation, partly because he was a foul-tempered git. But also partly because – though it didn't seem like it – he was quite deep in his own inspection of this unfamiliar place himself.

The main difference between the two and their investigation techniques was that Hermione moved close to objects, reading titles, lifting trinkets, and running the pads of her fingers across surfaces, intent on thoroughly examining them, entranced and intrigued. Severus, on the other hand, kept his distance and carefully and slowly swept his eyes over every detail with a hint of disdain in his demeanor.

Both saw things that the other did not, they knew. Different details and peculiarities caught their attention, and the pair looked forward to pointing out as well as being exposed to the myriad of effects they hadn't jointly noticed.

Neither was in a rush to step away from the expansive bookshelf covering one wall, despite the unexplored hallway leading off of this main room. Severus was seriously considering picking a tome and settling in, uninterested in the rest of the flat. Hermione noticed the hallway but once her eyes swept over the books available, she stood dumbstruck. Both stared at the wall of bookshelves, imagining that living like a Muggle couldn't be too bad, now that they had subsequent reading material.

Finally their curious natures managed to win over their bibliophilic tendencies and Severus led Hermione through the doorway and into a long hallway with five doors, two to each side and one directly ahead. Hermione chose the first door to her left, leaving Severus to explore the room across the hall on his own.

Displeased with herself for her automatic urge to cast Lumos in the dark room, Hermione felt along the wall to the side of the doorway and flipped the switch she found. A light in the ceiling came on and she was able to take in her surroundings. The room was a bedroom, not small but not extravagant. A comfortable looking bed sat against the wall to her left. It was not like the four-poster beds – almost overwhelmingly large with unnecessarily intricate carvings – that she had become accustomed to in her days at Hogwarts.

But thankfully it wasn't like her own at home – a twin bed with brass head- and footboards and an awful handmade quilt, a horrible bed that reminded her of her awkward childhood and her horror that she was twenty years old and living with her parents again. This bed was a good size and looked to be quite comfortable. It had simple wooden head- and footboards and took up a good portion of the wall with a nightstand on either side.

Hermione moved closer to the bed and nightstands to really examine them and found that while not expensive or ornate, the furnishings were above satisfaction. The bed was made of dark wood – she wasn't sure what kind – a deep brown color and smooth feel, and it matched the nightstands as well as the other furniture in the room – a large dresser, small desk with an uncomfortable-looking straight back chair, and bookcase. The coloring and contour of the wood quite suited the feeling of the room as did the colors used.

The bed had a comforter that was striped with a deep navy blue and dark forest green. A slightly lighter version of this pattern was on the walls, making the colors easier to distinguish from afar but not creating a specifically 'light' atmosphere. She pulled back the comforter a bit and found black cotton sheets, as she had slightly suspected. She considered that this would probably not be her room, unless the two bedrooms were identical... which she doubted.

There was a lamp on each nightstand, identical except for the color of the shades. They were solid rather than striped, one side was a green that fit in the middle of the spectrum used for the bed and walls, and the other was blue, also not as dark as the navy on the comforter but not quite as light as the shade surrounding her. Both nightstands were about the right size to fit, along with the lamp, two or three nighttime-reading books, or a pitcher of water and glass. The dresser looked accommodating enough for the amount of Muggle clothes she would need, with a large but plain mirror above it.

The desk was completely unsuitable for any kind of proper research or even comfortable writing environment. It looked like the right size to sit at to write a letter – a short one, maybe a postcard – but not to spend any substantial time at. She thought this odd. Surely Albus knew the two members of his staff well enough to know that a lack of magic did not mean a lack of knowledge.

The bookcase was also somewhat disappointing. It was only three shelves high and less than half the size of the dresser. Again she internally questioned Albus' reasoning, but remembered the remarkable bookshelves in their living area – apparently she and Severus were expected to share.

The room had no windows, so when she flicked off the ceiling light it was once again shrouded in darkness. Like a cave she thought, perfect for a Vampire.

Sniggering to herself, her investigation complete, Hermione stepped back into the hallway. Across from her she could see Severus in the other bedroom, and she stepped inside with slight expectations as to the color scheme of this one. Her hypothesis had been correct; house loyalty was still to be taken into account, even if only in interior design.

The bed that her partner and friend stood next to was striped in the same pattern as the room she had just left, but next to a deep blue was a dark maroon. She noticed, however, that neither color was as dark as those in the other room. The blue on this bed was closer to the shade on the walls across the hall. The two lamps were a blood red and a dark blue, once again a few shades lighter than she had already seen.

And the coloring on these walls was bright, cheery. The walls of this room definitely projected a brighter atmosphere than the others had. The light did not seem to absorb and disappear into these walls; instead, it illuminated the bedroom and brightened the wood. It was the same wood, she observed, although it looked different amongst these colors, and there was an identical dresser, inadequate desk, and pathetic bookcase.

The curtains on the window had been drawn, letting in the sun and reinforcing the 'bright' feeling. She said nothing but found herself stuck between exasperated and horrified by the choice of lighting. Severus had crossed the room in the relative dark to open the window shades not because he preferred sunlight. He hadn't known any other way to turn on a light. He hadn't automatically used magic, but he was still far from a Muggle.

Poor Dear, she thought – and then thought how ridiculous it was to be calling Snape a poor dear and switched to something more fitting – Insufferable Bastard, she thought, not quite used to the light switches.

Indeed, the man had very little knowledge of anything related to electricity, but she knew that trying to teach him without his asking would be an exercise in futility. He would watch her to learn to do things, and in time he would ask questions. He had been exposed to electricity in various other games, and would understand it quickly, but it would take some time before he learned to naturally swipe his hand against the wall rather than wave his wand across the room.

"I think this should be your room, Severus." She grinned cheekily, speaking in the bright tone that the room inspired. "It's... it's you."

The only response she received was one raised eyebrow and his graceful exit, murmuring what sounded suspiciously like "over my dead body." Which was funny until he continued with "or yours."

She followed him back into the room she had looked at first and was actually able to hear his small sigh of relief, satisfaction, or maybe just comfort. He matched the room, fit in perfectly. He would definitely prefer this room.

She considered insisting on this bedroom being hers, just for the fun of his predictable indignation. She loved to tease him as much as she enjoyed disagreeing and debating with him in earnest, but oftentimes the results of teasing were unpleasant for all involved, while debates – however heated – usually offered a chance to learn something new, at least. So rather than start a battle, she smiled and returned to the living room.

She came back down the hallway dragging a medium-sized suitcase and pulled it into the brighter room. Severus mimicked her action and brought his suitcase – the same size as hers and also black, but covered with little silver snakes rather than gold lions – into his room and laid it next to the dresser, before finding his way back into the hall. Both were much happier with their room choices than their first impressions had led them to expect.

She had known for the past 11 years that the Potions Master had a cruel disposition, but Severus had been surprised to find Hermione's temper able to show through so strongly. The boys had not bothered to warn him of Hermione's nature; she was always right, always in charge, and getting into a row with her was dangerous and scary. He had learned soon enough, after the first time he had called her a "silly girl" while they were supposed to be working alongside each other as equals; he now used the phrase "silly woman."

When Hermione had charged into his office to collect an overdue book on rare plants of Ethiopia, he had been quite amused at her temper. But when she had challenged his knowledge, citing an obscure article about sephipporous stems that conflicted directly with his developing thesis, his temper had matched hers. He had seen men and women alike cower at his scowl, his angry voice, his intelligence. But Hermione, the slip of a girl he had intimidated and mocked for seven years, matched his every move.

Albus had heard them from the Great Hall and come down before anything dangerous had happened. But although no hexes were thrown (this time), vicious academic premises had flown between the two in an ever increasing volume. And they had liked it.

When temperaments rose between the two, coworkers and friends alike would leave the room, uncomfortable with the atmosphere. Not many people could sit between a yelling Severus Snape and a shouting Hermione Granger, both intense and passionate and not the least bit approachable. Their intellect, emotions, and power had conquered anyone that had stood in either's way, Hermione having developed a list of defeated opponents to rival Severus' multitude of cowering and emotionally-scarred challengers.

Both Hermione and Severus were pleased with the discovery of a proper dueling partner – verbal, magical, and intellectual duels that they entered into regularly – that they could view as an equal. The two had learned much from each other during their debates and discussions, and the road to knowledge was worth the scorched walls and the destruction of a few priceless knick-knacks.

But they knew the difference between these arguments and a bit of teasing. And Hermione knew that teasing only got him riled up to a degree and the little bit of amusement she found in the beginning was often not worth it. He had still not managed to perfect 'teasing' her, but he had his own ways. He had cut her down many times in the past two years, only mildly less viciously than when she had been a student. It would be interesting to see how the two would fare in a fight as Muggles, unable to pull out their wands when other arguments had failed.

Would fists come into it? she wondered. I must have learned something from Dad and his self-defense lessons. He hasn't got a chance.

She was not above resorting to Muggle bullying techniques to settle a disagreement. But she knew that, cruel as he was, Severus would never retaliate physically. Well, probably not, anyway. He had been willing to match her magically... She vowed to check the bookshelves for tips on hand-to-hand combat, just in case.

Either way, it was not worth the trouble of even a verbal sparring. She was much happier with the room she had just left, with its cheerier walls and lovely view, than she would have been in that dark, perfect-for-brooding dwelling that her ex-professor was returning to the hallway from. Pretending to care about room assignments solely for the purpose of irritating him would take up too much energy. Energy that could be used to explore the rest of the flat.

Hermione opened the door next to his room. Inside, she saw a toilet, small hand-washing sink with a small mirror on the wall above it, and a small tower that would only properly fit little soaps and the spray-stuff for odors, the ones that come in the small handy size.

Her heart sank a bit at the decidedly small room, she wasn't the type to spend hours doing her makeup but she doubted very much that this little loo would accommodate anyone wishing to change or wash up. Severus glanced in with a look of disinterest, but she was sure she saw a bit more disdain for this small room than he had displayed for the others.

Her spirits lifted when, across the hall, she and Severus stepped into a large, accommodating bathroom. It had a large bathtub with a shower, a toilet, a large sink with a fitting mirror above it and plenty of counter space around it for toiletries, a much larger tower – which would nicely fit towels, extra toilet paper, and the girly stuff that she would put there just to irk her companion – and a mirror next to the door that was large enough for Severus to be able to see himself completely when standing before it.

She checked the edges of the mirror quickly, hoping she was being discreet. Satisfied that there were no words there – one had to be wary with the Headmaster as their decorator, after all – she exited the bathroom feeling much more confident in her ability to bathe and groom herself comfortably.

She looked at the door to her right – the only one down this hallway leading to a room that hadn't yet been explored – and instead turned left to return to the living room. Severus was not far behind her, the confusion that she had expected to see not evident.

"I agree," he firmly told her, not giving her the chance to say anything for him to agree or disagree with. "We should save an exploration of the office area for another time. I doubt that I will want to tear myself out of there, if Albus did what I expect, which he often does. Irritating, predictable, conniving old man..." He let his statement end in a grumble of sorts, possibly injecting a few words that she, however much she agreed, would scold him for using about his mentor and friend.

As his gaze shifted to the other two rooms attached to the one they stood in, Hermione found herself unable to bear the thought of exploring them just yet. Her attention returned to the room they stood in. She had looked at it before but now, having seen the bedrooms, it seemed a little more fitting.

Their living room was lovely; large with enough windows to keep her comfortable without disrupting the dark man beside her. It seemed to be an attempt to satisfy both tastes, by not using either's specific colors. It was done in shades of blue, the wallpaper striped like in the bedrooms, but with the six different shades of blue Hermione had noticed, rather than one blue and another color.

There was a large rug in the middle, atop which sat a couch and coffee table. The couch looked adequate for three people, comfortably. It was done in just two shades of blue, the body part of it was the color on Severus' lamp and the cushions were the color on Hermione's lamp,

The coffee table was low and wide, with various 'coffee table books' resting on it. Scanning the titles, Hermione found their displayed books to be as Muggle as possible; football and television guides being the two on top. Severus would be livid. The table itself, though, was the same beautiful wood used on the beds and dressers, and it sat on a blue carpet that seemed to have all of the 6 blues in it, in no discernable pattern.

There was a large TV with a VCR and DVD player along with a stereo system next to it. She looked forward to exposing Severus to the joys of Muggle movies and music. There was a small collection of movies and CDs and she could see a few titles. Damn the headmaster, he knew them both too well.

Near the wall behind them – the glorious wall that was almost entirely bookshelves – sat two chairs, similar looking but tailored to their intended occupants. They were both blue, though one was considerably darker than the other. The lighter was Hermione's ideal reading chair: soft, big, comforting. The darker one had a higher back, and not nearly as much padding as the other, and an ottoman in front of it.

There was a small table between the two chairs as well, but this one had no books on it. The bookcases were about half full, giving them enough reading material to keep satisfied for now but with substantial room for more, which she would enjoy going to the bookstore for. There were Muggle classics, cookbooks, dime-store romance novels, encyclopedias, recent bestsellers, graduate-level textbooks, and a whole shelf of books that definitely weren't in English. There were no Wizarding books, though. They were Muggles, after all.

Across the living room were the dining room and kitchen. She had warned him on the way here that cooking was not like brewing a potion, and he seemed to believe that more than any of the other warnings. The fact that it seemed similar to his mastered field but would be hard to accomplish clearly discomfited the man; he was used to doing things perfectly and did not like being shown to be ignorant or uninformed about anything.

He was looking into the room – with its shiny appliances, tiled floors, and various weaponry – in a way that reminded her of Neville, looking into the Potions classroom. Dread, horror, nervousness, uncertainty. This was a side of Severus Snape not many saw. And it was freaking her out a bit.

"The little dining room seems nice," she began, uncomfortable with the silence. "That table will properly fit the two of us. With a lot of food, our own reading material, and anything else we can think to throw on it."

"The kitchen," she continued, eyeing the man next to her carefully and feeling confident that she knew him well enough to be saying the right thing, "seems lovely, and I can't wait to see what Muggle tools Albus has given us to learn on." She went on, aware that she wasn't just doing this for him- she hated to cook too. "But," she saw him physically un-tense a bit at this, "I think we should go out today. I can show you around town a bit, we can do some grocery shopping and fill in the gaps in our wardrobe, and maybe have dinner at a dirty greasy Muggle pub."

He shuddered a bit at each suggestion she made, but was definitely in favor of that plan over conquering the kitchen. "Or..." he began, searching his brain for activities that would be preferable even as he put on his cloak.

"No, Severus. These are things we need to do. We'll get hungry at some point while we're here and there are no house elves to whip us up a five course meal. And look at us, putting on our cloaks to walk around Muggle London! You haven't nearly the right clothes to last much longer than a week without resorting to robes. Unless you are eager to learn laundry...?" she let the question dangle while he took in the implications, a resigned look on his face.

"We don't really need to eat somewhere cheap, loud, and full of drunken Muggles. But I want to, because I know you don't."

He scowled at her, helping her with her own cloak without really thinking about it, and vowing to stop letting her order him around. As soon as he overcame the foolish, unnecessary sense of nervousness he was suddenly feeling. Which would be any minute now, he was sure.

He grabbed the keys off the small table next to the door where she had dropped them. Uncomfortable with the foreign objects, he handed them to Hermione and closed the door behind them, seemingly surprised when she put the keys back into their locks. Once she had the deadbolts clicked into place she dropped the keys into her purse. They both took a deep breath, and began to walk down the sidewalk, ordinary Muggles on an ordinary Muggle excursion.

Author's Notes: I had a lot planned for this chapter. And now I have it planned for the next chapter. Funny how things work out.

Like I've said, if I'm going to admit to being an author, I'll damn well insist that I've no idea what I'm doing, and admit that I'm scared as hell.