Squabbles and Shopping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o 20 o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Squabbles and Shopping

~S~

Severus and Hermione arrived on the pavement in front of Grimmauld Place, and the Muggles passing by merely looked at the street when they heard the loud crack since the Dissimulata Charm was still in place. Hermione let go of Severus’ arm and quietly walked up the path to the door. “Hermione?” he asked, confused and hurt that she seemed so eager to be rid of him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven,” she said over her shoulder.

“Hermione?” he asked again, wanting to make her turn around and face him.

“What?” she asked, making an abrupt about-face. She glanced at him quickly, then looked at the street. Her eyes had a blank, indifferent look. One he’d perfected well.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

“You insisted that I go with you to the Manor,” she said flatly.

“Yes, to help me prepare the crabs before they spoil,” he replied, trying to make her see reason.

She put her fists on her hips. “Even though you know that I can never go back there.”

“There is no reason why you can’t. It is where I am staying, where my lab is. You wouldn’t be harassed or mistreated,” he said, a little more harshly than he’d intended but still trying to make her understand. “They don’t even have wands!”

Hermione tipped her chin up defiantly. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” he asked, his own ire rising.

Her amber eyes flashed with anger. “I don’t like being manipulated like that. I don’t like being pressured into doing something I don’t want to do. I’ve had enough of that, and I don’t like it.”

Severus’ patience snapped. “You’ve had enough of that? When? As a child? A student? During the war? Or camping in your tent? When were you ever forced into doing things you didn’t want to do – didn’t choose to do? When were these manipulations happening? When were you forced to serve two conniving, manipulating bastards – one a narcissistic megalomaniac and the other a wizened old fool who played with people as if they were merely chess pieces? Or are you referring to this sham of a marriage – our Bonding? The one you manipulated me into.”

“Look, I’m not going to apologize to you again for doing that stupid spell. I know it was a mistake. But it’s one I can easily rectify,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her fists still planted firmly on her hips.

“No, you cannot,” he stated. Severus looked around quickly, then back at her. “I don’t want to do this out here.”

“Then come inside,” she said with a sweep of her hand toward the door.

“No.”

“Well, why not?” she asked, flinging up both hands and letting them fall at her sides.

“It’s the home of my enemy,” he snarled. “Don’t you know how much I loathed Black and everything about him and his family?” Narcissa is the only redeemable Black I know! he wanted to say, but he refrained.

Her fists were firmly planted back on her hips as she stood there, glaring at him. “It’s Harry’s house. When are you going to drop this animosity you carry around toward Harry for what his father…?”

“It’s the Black House,” he snapped at her. “It’s the ancestral home of my nemesis.”

“Not anymore. It doesn’t even look the same.” She turned on her heel again, saying, “Fine. Good night,” over her shoulder.

“Hermione,” he said, making her stop again.

She whirled around to face him, her expression furious. “Malfoy Manor is the home of my nemesis. My enemy. This house is to you what the Manor is to me.” She flung her hand behind her at the door. “Only this house isn’t what you remember. The Blacks don’t live here anymore. They’re all dead. It’s Harry’s house, the Potters’. There’s new paint, new furnishings, new residents, and laughter. The heads are off the wall, and Mrs. Black has been removed. The place is clean and bright, and we have flowers and herbs in the back garden. It’s not the same house. Good night, Severus.”

He turned to Disapparate before she could slam the door in his face.

Hermione sat in the library, staring at the same page for the last hour, mentally replaying her two dates with Severus in her mind. Both times he’s taken me somewhere that he’s been before. Somewhere that he wanted to show me. He had planned the date, where we’d go, what we’d do, or what we would eat, and where we would walk to. Both times I saw a glimpse of him through his hard exterior. He’d actually let his guard down. But we always seem to end our dates with a fight. It’s like being with Ron all over – the fighting – I don’t want that kind of relationship. Sure, he’s done nice things, the hair band and the way he flew next to me in case I fell off my broom, but does that really make up for all his mistreatment?

She started recounting all the times she’d shared with Severus since their consummation. Hermione decided to discount the dreams – they were just that… dreams. She focused on what was real and realized that she didn’t like the overall picture.

Hermione dropped the book on her lap. In fact, their relationship was horrible. Severus was proving to be domineering, manipulative, and even abusive. He had raped her mind and not even apologized for it. He’d tried to manipulate her into going to Malfoy Manor. He’d shoved her away at the end of his trial. Moreover, the only times he’d been like the dreams was when she had gone to see him in jail. He didn’t love her, and he didn’t respect her. She didn’t know if he even liked her. This was an arranged marriage with a man who would abuse her and expect her to take it. Well, she wasn’t going to take it any longer.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ginny asked.

Hermione looked up, suddenly aware that she had slipped into the room while she’d been thinking. “Severus and I had another row after our last date. It’s like – I just wish he wouldn’t treat me like Ron used to.”

She smiled when Ginny set Witches On Brooms, Flying With the Big Men: The First Women in Professional Quidditch down on the sofa next to her. It was the book that Ginny had given Harry for his birthday. “First, don’t compare Ron to Severus. That’s not fair to Ron. Second, have you talked to the guy? Tried getting him to open up…? Eh, yeah, right. Severus Snape. Opening up.” She chuckled, ignoring Hermione’s furrowed brow. “Okay, just tell me what happened – and don’t leave out the good stuff.”

Hermione sighed and told her all about her date at Duncansby Head.

“You know, you’re not being fair. For Severus, that sounds downright nice,” Ginny said when she was finished.

“Ginny, he raped my mind,” Hermione said, her voice going shrill, “and he practically tried to drag me to Malfoy Manor.”

“You’re right, he shouldn’t have done that, but I’m sure you told him off about it.” Ginny nodded, grinning at Hermione’s shocked expression, and scooted closer to her. “About the Manor. Where else would he be able to take you? You hate his house, and he is staying with the Malfoys. It’s not like he could or should have to pay for an inn every night you are together. And Bluepike crabs have to stay moist or they go bad. That’s a fact, and you know it. They are also a very expensive potions ingredient, because unless you prepare them immediately and correctly, they are no good except for cooking.” Ginny sighed as Hermione slunk back against the sofa. “How bad is his house anyway?”

Hermione sighed and turned to face Ginny, telling her what she remembered of the house.

“Now honestly, is my house, the Burrow, any better?” Ginny asked.

Hermione crossed her arms, hugging the book to her chest. “Ginny, there is a huge difference!”

“Yeah, right. It was a pigsty once, did you know that? It was enlarged, of course, but the ground floor was a pigsty. Dad added the upper floor when he married my mum, two bedrooms, a box room, and a loo,” Ginny tried to explain.

Hermione tried to envision what Ginny was describing. She’d never really looked at the Burrow quite like that before, she’d always just accepted it as Ron’s home and loved being there because it felt so warm and inviting.

“After Percy was born, the box room was enlarged as much as Dad could, but it’s still a really small room. Charlie and Bill shared a room. Then, as the family grew, Percy and Charlie needed their own rooms, the loo became the stairs,” Ginny continued. “But have you any idea what my brothers and I have had to endure being teased about living in a pigsty? Especially from the purist prats?”

“No, I – yes, Malfoy teased Ron once about his family living in one room,” Hermione recalled, remembering how embarrassed Ron had gotten. “Yes, he did tease Ron about living in a sty.”

“So now you know – my house is a sty,” Ginny said, tilting her head and regarding Hermione. “And you have told me a hundred times that you like staying at my house, in my room. The old box room, which Mum used as her nursery for each of my brothers.”

Hermione toyed with the ribbon on her bookmark as she thought about what Ginny had said. “But the house is filthy and…”

“Needs a good scrubbing, some fresh paint, and Strengthening Charms to the rickety old furniture,” Ginny finished. “My family’s furniture all came from garage or estate sales. The sofa Dad found on the curb once, and three of the kitchen chairs Dad found from Merlin knows where and fixed up in his shed. My bed was from a neighbor who’d moved. The twins’ beds were bunk beds Mum bought off a witch in Mansfield Dad knew at the Ministry. Even the plates come from secondhand stores and are all different patterns. Heck, the glasses only match because Aunt Muriel gave them to Mum and Dad as a wedding present, and they have Charms to make them unbreakable and chip resistant. Even Mum’s wireless was a gift to my dad, that is to say it was a Muggle one someone tampered with and his boss let him keep.”

Hermione nodded, feeling like one of the purist prats from Slytherin.

“You are judging Severus a bit unfairly. For a bachelor’s flat, it doesn’t sound too bad. How much space do you think ol’ Severus needed? He only lived there over the summers,” Ginny said. “And homes like that, two up and two down, are common in northern England, especially in the old mill districts. In the highlands, the older homes are mostly one large room with add-ons. Usually, wizard homes are added onto magically. Who is to say that, cleaned up and repainted, the house won’t be a good starter home? How much space do you need anyway?”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She looked around at the room, envisioning what the place had looked like the summer before her fifth year. “I suppose I wanted a house like my parents had,” she admitted, “or a nice flat. You’re right. Cleaned up, the place might not be too bad, but the bed needs replacing.”

“Or a Fluffing Charm,” Ginny said giggling. “For someone so smart, you constantly forget you are a witch!”

Severus arrived onto the grounds of Malfoy Manor ready to hex someone. That insolent witch! Her words still echoed in her head. She knows nothing about being manipulated, used, and forced into doing acts you don’t want to do – forced to witness acts that make your skin crawl and make you heave, made to kill someone just because you’ve been ordered to – someone who didn’t deserve to die.

A house-elf approached him, carrying a letter. “Pardon me, sir. You has a urgent owl, sir,” he said, his ears shaking as if expecting to be punished. “The owl is still here, sir. Waiting.”

Severus took the letter, thanking the elf. He scoffed at the prim writing of Elaine Prevatt.

Mr. Severus Snape,

I do regret to inform you that Lawrence McDonough is still unavailable to meet with you due to a sudden illness. However, it is imperative that you come by the offices tomorrow to sign the necessary papers for your reinstatment, should you still intend to continue as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Withcraft and Wizardry.

The meeting for the govenors is scheduled at one in the afternoon, and the matter of the Headmaster appointment is of the Governors’’ utmost concern.

If you’d please come by at ten, Elsa Deers, Roberto Delgado, and Marvin Boatright will be meeting with you to discuss the necessary terms.

Thank you for your cooperation in this matter,

Elaine Prevatt,

Clerk to the Governing Body, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Necessary terms? The decrees I was forced to enact because of the Dark Lord? Hermione perhaps? Severus folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket, smirking about the pending meeting. Of course, I’ll be there. Truth was he was relieved that at least his second year as Headmaster would be far less troublesome than his first had been. It would be nice to get back to familiar surroundings, even considering what memories the castle would hold.

He looked at the huge Manor. Hermione’s words came back to him as he stared at the fine stonework and elegant windows, manicured lawns, and clipped hedges. The cry of a peacock from somewhere in the formal gardens made him cringe. The Manor was the visual display of opulence, wealth, and privilege. Even the roses bloomed nearly year round. Hermione’s words hit him like a hex. ‘Malfoy Manor is the home of my nemesis. My enemy. This house is to you what the Manor is to me.’ She had been tortured here. Draco and his friends had bullied her at school, just as Black and Potter had me in my school days. But the Malfoys are my friends. Through everything, Lucius and Narcissa have always remained my friends.

He stared at the grand house and thought about his life. He didn’t fit in this world. He was welcome here, invited, befriended even, but he wasn’t a part of this opulence. He was a scrawny kid from a dilapidated mill town, who was so unsure of himself that he hoarded his earnings, buying the bare minimum of clothes and personal belongings. In fact, besides his books, he owned even less than Lupin had when he’d arrived to teach. No, he wasn’t one of the rich and affluent nor a pureblood. He just knew how to play the role of one who was.

He thought of returning to Spinner’s End, but he didn’t want to be there either. Severus then decided to go somewhere he’d seen twice when his mum had taken him so she could beg them for assistance and once on his own as a curious teen after he’d passed his Apparation license. A place his mum had told him about when she’d spoken about her childhood and had even shown him pictures of. Yorkshire. A large, nine bedroom, grey stone Queen Anne house on the fringe of Yorkshire dales. My great-grandfather’s house. If the old codger still lives. Severus’ only living relative. He wasn’t sure. They were the only relatives he knew about.

His last visit at the house hadn’t gone well. His grandfather had taken one look at him, dismissed him as Tobias’ spawn, and left. His great-grandfather had been cantankerous, obstinate, fustian, and acerbic at his best, at least according to what little Severus remembered of the man, each time he’d seen him. Talfryn Prince had asked him a few questions, scoffed at Severus’ answers, and retired to his study each time they’d spoken. His great-grandmother had been polite but reserved, more concerned about the wax dripping from the candles or the condition of her geraniums than in him. Severus hadn’t been back, even when he’d received word that his great-grandmother had passed away or when he’d heard that his grandfather had died. Dumbledore had let him attended the funerals, but he hadn’t stayed for the wakes. Nevertheless, for some reason, he wanted to see the place again.

He Apparated onto a stretch of overgrown lawn, facing the old stone house. The garden was going wild, the plants vying against each other, the magical ones and the mundane.

The lights in the lower left windows of the house were on, as were the lights in the upper windows, which he knew to be Taflryn Prince’s bedchambers. So the old man still lives. Squaring his shoulders, he approached the door.

A Healer answered his knock after a long pause. “I’m Eileen Prince’s son, Severus.”

She reacted in shock. “Are you really? I mean, I know about you, of course. Oh, where are my manners? Come in, come in.” She stood aside to let him into the foyer.

He entered the home, taking in the slightly neglected air of the place. The main hall of the house ran straight down the center, the kitchens, dining area, and his great-grandmother’s parlor were to his left, and to his right, the lounge and his great-grandfather’s den, which also served as his study – the one room Severus hadn’t been allowed during his visits, and the only one with a locked door.

“I’m sorry that the place is a mess, but Pepper won’t leave her master’s side except to fix him broth, so the rest of the house is somewhat neglected.”

Severus looked at the woman, piecing together what she saying. He must have appeared confused to her. “He’s ill, sir. Very ill. It won’t be long, I’m afraid.”

Severus thanked the Healer and mounted the stairs to the upper floor.

Hermione paced the house the next morning, feeling restless and cooped up. The school lists had finally arrived, and Ginny had hurried to the Ministry of Magic to get some money from her dad. She’d been gone an hour already. Hermione had just flopped down on the sofa for the umpteenth time when Ginny came through the Floo, grinning like a Clabert. “Okay, I’m ready!”

“So, no problems then?” Hermione asked, grabbing her shopping bag.

“Actually, one. Harry was in Dad’s office, and of course, he offered to pay for my school supplies. Dad told him, ‘Nothing doing. I can very well afford to pay for my daughter’s schooling, Harry,’ and Harry adamantly said he wanted to since he’s technically my husband,” she said, lowering her voice to try and sound like her dad when she’d quoted him.

“So, who won?” Hermione asked, amused.

“Well, Dad did, of course,” Ginny said, her eyes showing a mischevious glint. “Dad asked why I wasn’t going with Mum, and I had to remind him that Mum had accepted the position at St. Mungo’s and was working, so I was going with you. Then, of course, I had to remind him that we were of age and that we’d survived a war and could take care of ourselves in Diagon Alley. I also pointed out that it’d be crowded today, what with everyone getting their lists and all. You’d think I was still eleven,” she said, shaking her head. “But Dad relented, making me promise to go to George’s shop first. I suspect he’s hoping George will escort me shopping.” Ginny made a laugh that sounded a little like a like a snort. “Then Harry insisted on walking me to the Floos and gave me a handful of Sickles and Galleons! He told me to ‘have a good time,’ and I intend to! So, how about it – want to ask George to have lunch with us?”

“Sure,’ Hermione replied, laughing at her tale. They were still laughing as the girls emerged from the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron.

Diagon Alley was bustling with shoppers. Many of the shops had reopened, and there were several new vendors with brightly colored kiosks. The girls wandered the shops. The Apothecary asked for autographs when they bought their Potions ingredients, and again, the shopkeeper asked Hermione and Ginny to sign a Daily Prophet each when they went to get treats for Crooks and Ginny a new owl at the Magical Menagerie. However, the kindly witch behind the counter persistently tried selling Hermione a guard Crup, insisting that it would protect her from Severus Snape. In both shops, Hermione and Ginny were ogled by the mingling students and their parents and were even stopped to ask for an autograph or to pose for pictures.

In Madam Malkin’s, the shop assistant was very pleased to see Hermione and Ginny and greeted them warmly, fawning over the girls and even giving them both new pairs of socks. Nevertheless, she did pull Hermione aside and offer a bit of advice about tying her knickers in a knot with a sprig of Juniper and placing it under her pillow. “It will keep him from wanting to accost you while you sleep,” the elderly witch suggested. When they left, there was a cluster of girls who smirked and laughed as Hermione walked by, one saying, “Yeah, but she had to resort to ensnaring Snape in order to get any,” which Hermione chose to simply ignore.

In the stationery shop, Hermione was amused that when the girls tried to get new quills, the shopkeeper wanted a picture of them for his wall, and gave each girl a pad of parchment and an extra bottle of ink for posing with him. But as they exited the shop, they heard three girls snickering about Hermione having to tolerate being shagged by the greasy git.

In the bookshop, Ginny was so absolutely delighted as she selected new books rather than second-hand that it was easy to ignore the snickers and rude comments from the other shoppers and smile for the ones who wanted to shake their hands. Hermione and Ginny both smiled and happily signed copies of the Daily Prophet and The Quibbler, which had articles devoted to them. After posing with Mr. Blotts, Ginny and Hermione both left with Winnifred Chandlers’ newest Charms book, New Discoveries For A New Age, and a brand new journal each.

The girls went to the Quidditch Shop next so Ginny could get some broom wax, and they nearly toppled over a second-year who’d stopped in the doorway, his mouth gaping like a guppy, until his mum pulled him out of the way, babbling her apologies. Ginny received a lot of attention from the boys who’d been admiring the new brooms, and once again the shopkeeper was so delighted to see the heroines of the war that he also asked for a picture to hang in his shop, although even he had given Hermione his sympathy for her situation, saying he hoped it would all work out in the end. On the way out of the door, a pair of young girls asked Hermione if she’d really ridden on a dragon, and then they scooted off smiling when she’d admitted she had.

With bulging sacks, they strolled down the street, getting handshakes, thanks of gratitude for helping Harry rid the world of Tom Riddle, and Hermione receiving plenty of advice as to what she should do regarding her Bonding.

“Kind of makes you wish you’d stayed home, doesn’t it?” Ginny asked, laughing at the last wizard’s advice to slip Severus a Forgetfulness Draught and take Ron in as a lover. “Now I know what Harry was talking about when he complains about all the attention.”

“I think the world’s gone insane,” Hermione groaned. “Touted like a celebrity and then treated as if I was mental all in the same breath from these people! It’s enough to drive you mad,” she groaned as she opened the door to George’s shop.

“Oi, you two!” George shouted from the counter. He hurried over, his eyes narrowing momentarily at the bags, and then he looked up with a huge grin. “Good, no shopping!” He motioned them to follow him. “Drop your things in the back. Did you know that I got owls from Mum, Dad, and Harry, asking me to take you shopping so I could protect you and one from the Aurors department asking if they should send a guard? But it looks like you managed well enough without.”

“It was rough,” Ginny said, grinning. “Fighting our way to the counters, signing autographs, and defending Hermione from all the old biddies and their advice.”

Hermione playfully stuck her tongue out at her.

“Figured as much,” George said smiling. “So, fancy some lunch?”

George led them to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Ron showed up just as they sat down. “Hi,” he said, leaning toward Hermione. “I hope this is okay?”

“More than okay. How are you?” Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. “All right, I suppose. You?”

She was glad that Ron was at least acting like his old self again. “You want the truth or the public version?”

“You’re smiling, so the truth is you’re doing okay. So, tell me the public version,” he said.

Hermione laughed. She started to tell him all the bits of advice she’d gotten that morning, and Ginny filled in the ones she’d been told to give Hermione. It had the four of them in stitches while they waited for lunch to be served.

Suddenly, something in George’s pocket made an awful sound. “Problem at the shop,” he said, jumping up.

Ginny looked worried. “Isn’t that your burglar alarm?”

“Yeah, and Verity is all by herself. I have to go,” he said, turning and running off.

Ginny stood to go. “I’m going to go and see if – make sure everything is all right at the shop,” she said excitedly. Ron looked torn between staying and going.

Hermione placed her hand on his arm. “If you want to go too…”

“Can’t,” he said. “Look, the real reason I’m here is that the Aurors are worried for your safety. I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but you and Gin are on the Death Eaters’ hit list, as are Luna and Neville. Harry and I are rarely alone anymore in public. Loraine Matsuno from the department was next to the door, but she followed Ginny. I’m guessing that Hayward Blume went, too. I don’t see him either. But we’re okay here – Tom doesn’t let stuff happen in his pub.”

“How bad is it? Do you know how many more are out there?” Hermione asked, trying to remain calm.

“Enough,” Ron admitted. “Ever since your attack, we have been keeping as close a watch on you as we can. Truth is, no matter what I think of Snape, he’s been taking you to some unusual places, Muggle ones. We don’t think any of his pals will try anything with him around, but here – it’s too public.”

Hermione looked at him and noticed the concern in his eyes. “Ron, it’s public. There are loads of witches and wizards around. They wouldn’t be so foolish…”

“Just yesterday, Dennis Creevey was accosted, and Hannah Abbott was hit with a hex, here in broad daylight. The hex came from between two shops just down the street. The official report was that it came from an overexcited eleven-year-old showing off his first wand.”

“No one would believe that!” she gasped. “Is Hannah okay?”

“She’s fine. Andy Montrose – you remember him, right? He had her right in a flick.” Ron grinned. “Truth is that the little Muggle-born was showing off his wand and set off a few shots that thankfully didn’t hit anyone. His wand was checked, but he didn’t fire the hex. He wouldn’t have known that one anyway. Still, it made a convenient cover for what did happen.”

“So, Ron, tell me, how many of them are there?” she asked.

“Ten,” he said definitively. “We’ve been able to identify most of the ones who called themselves the inner circle. We have a list of ten Death Eaters still on the loose and at least five supposed supporters that we can’t find to verify.”

Hermione and Ron talked about some of the other things that were new at the Ministry. Change was slow, but already Kingsley was being credited for trying to pass some good ideas. “Muggle-baiting and even bullying Muggle-borns is now against the law. You know that the Ministry has a trace on the word, Mud—, er, well, you know. You can lose your wand or go to Azkaban if you are given too many fines for saying it. Kingsley is trying to set a better standard to the new laws, make them more realistic. Could you imagine, some kid like Malfoy being jailed for calling you...” He’d lowered his voice to a near whisper as he added, “a m-u-d-blood.”

Hermione stifled a grin, their heads still close together. “I can spell it, Ron.”

“I can’t!” Ron exclaimed, his body jerking back slightly, and then he leaned forward again. “If I say it, even in jest, I’m out of the training program. At least the new restrictions are only being enforced among Ministry personnel. I hope the amendments pass, the way Kingsley wrote it is much better.”

“Bugger, it’s like a full swing of the pendulum, from one extreme to the other,” she remarked, and Ron grinned. “What about the giants, the ones who sided with Riddle? I heard something speaking about them in the bookshop.”

“Dead. Killed. They were hunted down. We don’t know who did it, but they were tracked to a valley and found dead. Grawp was given a collar to identify him, has a license and everything. Grawp, I think, likes it. Hagrid’s pleased, we think. At least Grawp is now protected.” Ron laughed softly. “Harry and I were sent out there to give him the collar. Grawp wanted to play with it but finally let Hagrid put it on him.”

“I heard that Grawp had been given a medal,” she said, suppressing her laughter, “for helping rebuild the school.”

“That was the official report, we gave him a medal that he wears around his neck,” he said, nodding, smiling in return. “Anyway, when you see him, from the ground it looks like a crup tag.”

Tom arrived with their lunches, and Ron told him that Ginny and George would be back in a bit. He turned back to Hermione. “Actually, I thought you’d be incensed that he was given a license, kind of like a crup.”

Hermione shrugged. “To the world, he’s still a giant, regardless of how well Hagrid does trying to civilize him. At least this way, he’ll be okay.”

“Hermione, you always amaze me,” he said, relaxing in his chair.

George and Ginny returned. Hermione noticed the witch and wizard who remained at the doorway, talking. “Yep, someone tried to rob us. Good thing those Aurors were here,” he said, indicating the two at the door. “I have to get back. I hope I can get Dean to sign on with me, but he’s deciding if he wants to or not.” He hugged his sister and then Hermione, then turned to go, taking his sandwich with him.

Ginny sat and finished her lunch, telling them all about the attempted robbery. “And those two, Mr. Blume and Miss Matsuno, it’s lucky they were assigned to Diagon Alley today. Can you imagine?”

After lunch, Ginny and Hermione decided to have an ice cream before leaving. Ron went with them and tried to insist that they eat inside, but it was too crowded and noisy. Hermione was greeted by Rebecca Marcello, a Hufflepuff who had graduated Hogwarts two years before the war, and was pleased to learn that she was the one who had reopened the ice cream parlor with a girl she’d befriended from Beauxbatons. The new décor had a French café style and served French pasties filled with ice cream. As they carried their desserts outside, Hermione saw both Mr. Blume and Miss Matsuno lingering near the shop as they ate their ice cream.

Maggie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Ronald Wealsey and Hermione Granger-Snape were sitting together in a booth at the Leaky Cauldron. She took as many notes about how close they leaned in toward each other, the smiles and how Mrs. Granger-Snape touched Ronald Weasley’s hand. She was going to owl Rita as soon as she returned to the office. This was priceless. Mrs. Granger-Snape was sharing an intimate lunch with her old paramour. Rumors are true – the girl is going to annul her Bonding.

She watched as George Weasley and Ginny Potter arrived, he greeting Mrs. Granger-Snape fondly and apparently saying good-bye, taking a sandwich with him as he left. Miss Potter apparently joined her friends. After lunch, the threesome wandered down the street, looking at the various displays in the windows and entered the newly reopened ice cream parlor. Maggie sat demurely on a chair and waited, rewarded when the trio sat at the table behind her. She could overhear everything, not that what they were saying was juicy, but it was apparent that the friendship was strong between Mrs. Granger-Snape and Mr. Weasley. Maggie took notes anyway, just in case she was misinterpreting anything as inconsequential. Besides, Rita will be able to use the quotes in her article. Oh, this is exciting! Like being a correspondent myself – not that I’m nearly the caliber that Rita is.

When the trio got up and walked to the Apparation site, she followed discreetly. She was rewarded again at seeing Mr. Weasley hug Mrs. Granger-Snape farewell. Oh, yes, things are definitely chummy between these two! She scurried away to the Floo, eager to get back and send her notes to her friend.

~ T B C ~>

Author’s notes:

I’m so sorry that this story took so long to update, but we moved at work into the new building. There was so much to do, and still see patients at the same time, that I was exhausted every night, and I had a really big project due that took me longer than I anticipated. Work has settled into the ‘new normal’ and my project is complete. So I’m able to focus on my stories again. Thank you so much to everyone who is following this story. Your reviews and support keep me going on, and I really appreciate all the kindness you’ve given me. Thank you for your patience.

Thank you to Era1960 for being a sounding board when I had a bit of a block and his masculine advice, and to my betas, MadBrilliant and Shug, for helping me clean this up and fix all my mistakes.

I also want to give a big hug to Southern_Witch_69 for my banner. I still get that silly little grin each time I look at it.