Author's Note: This is a completed story with approximately 12,000 words and will be posted in two chapters. The first chapter is backstory, told in non-chronological order, so dates are important. Chapter 2 will pick back up in February 2002. Just as a helpful reminder, the final battle was in May, 1998. Rating is for language and off-screen intimacy; no lemons to be found. I wrote this because I wanted to give something to fellow Harry Potter fanfic readers as we're all living in unusual times in 2020 with the COVID-19 pandemic. I hope that you are well!

February 2002

Hermione walked into Severus' lab and shut the door behind her and leaned her back against the door, closing her eyes. "Fuck, Severus. Just five minutes. Just give me five minutes." Her eyes immediately popped open and she began looking around the lab.

Severus calmly put his stirring rod down. "He's not here. He's down in Lab 4."

"Merlin. Sorry, Severus. They are driving me insane. Just pretend for five minutes like we don't know that this is stinksap laced with bobotuber pus." She handed over the mysterious potion and pulled up a stool at the end of the workbench.

Severus looked at Hermione and the edges of his mouth upturned. He pulled out his wand and sent his patronus out of his lab and the door of his lab locked a second later.

Hermione looked at him. "Who was that for?"

"Vaughn. This mysterious potion may be more dangerous than I first suspected. I'm quarantining my lab. It might take an hour. Unfortunately, Granger will be quarantined as well."

Hermione snorted. "I owe you one."

Severus opened the vial. One careful sniff told him that Hermione's initial guess was, as usual, correct. "What kind of idiot mixes stinksap with bobotuber pus?"

Hermione put her face in her hands as her elbows rested on the table. "I'm beginning to think that the entire Wizarding world is made of idiots."

"Welcome to my way of thinking. I knew you'd get there eventually." He paused, looking at her. "It's magic."

Hermione lifted her face to look at him. "What's magic? This isn't magic," she indicated at the foul-smelling mixture in his hand.

"No, it's not," he smiled at her. "But magic makes people want to experiment. Makes people want to push boundaries. That's what makes teaching potions so dangerous - the student that says, 'Maybe just a little more bicorn horn.' One day, you'll be an Auror and find the people who are pushing magic's boundaries in an evil, yet intelligent, way. But for now," he put down the offending vial, "you get useless, smelly sludge."

These words did not have the encouraging effect that he imagined they would, as Hermione grabbed her unruly hair in both hands. "Gods, I can't do this anymore."

He frowned to her hair. "Can't do what anymore?"

"Work in Magical Law Enforcement."

Severus waved a hand over his cauldron and put a stasis over his potion. He wandlessly accio'd the spare stool to himself. "Hermione, talk to me."

After a moment, she raised her head to look at him, but looked down once more as she began to talk. "I hate it. I hate all of it. MLE is all about idiot people. And those are two things I hate: idiots and most people. But Merlin, every day, you would think we were at a picnic the way Harry, Ron and Draco talk about it. They love every minute of it. What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Quit. Change jobs. I don't know why you ever went into MLE. Actually, I do. But it sure as hell wasn't for you."

Hermione sighed. "It's not that easy, and you know it."

"It's been four years, Hermione. Four years ago, you stayed with Harry. You and Ron both. I would have done the same thing. But for four years, you've been unhappy. People have moved on, the wizarding community has healed, but there you remain, unhappy."

"It's too late. I can't go back to Hogwarts. It doesn't matter. I wouldn't have gone back four years ago either."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"NEWTS. I only have the ones they bestowed upon me to enter MLE. I'm on the Auror track. All of my training is focused on being an Auror."

"Bullshit." He pulled one of her arms down from her hair.

She looked at him, finally. "It's okay. I'll be okay. I just needed to vent."

"Don't."

"Don't what?" she asked, weary.

"You're a horrible liar."

She smirked at him and laid her hand on his arm. "I'm just having a bad day."

"I have a plan." It came out as a whisper. He was crossing an unspoken line of their friendship. They both knew it. But he wanted her to be happy.

February 1999

In the aftermath of the war, Severus and Hermione kept being in the same place at the same time. At first, it was natural and didn't register. He was at trials; she was at trials. He was at Order meetings; she was at Order meetings. And then it did register. A lot of things registered. Like the fact that she was no longer a student and had crossed into the "same adult group as himself, she won't take bullshit" group.

George and Angelina's wedding - one of the first post-war, only eight months later - was a fiasco. Well, Severus imagined most would consider it a fiasco compared to other weddings; he pondered and realized it had been decades since he had attended a wedding. The part with the vows had been fine, quite touching really; it was actually just the reception. Partly to honor Fred's memory, partly to annoy Mrs. Weasley - and partly, he imagined, to show off some new merchandise - fireworks and other very loud products were going off at regular intervals. Only the strong survived. That might have been George's ultimate goal, he mused, as Severus watched older relatives shake their heads and wander off. The only ones left were young or immune to Weasley twin antics. After about ten minutes, he concluded that his theory was correct. Down to only his friends, his siblings and some of the stouter partiers that had been invited, the dial was turned down from fiasco to one of the more interesting parties in memory. Hogwarts professors - or ex-professors, in his case - had all remained, as well as Order members. What were fireworks to curses in battle?

He wasn't exactly spying. He had given up that day job. But watching was still fair game. Most people were being predictable. Minerva was dancing. While some people wouldn't think that was predictable, he knew that Minerva loved dancing. Hagrid was drinking. Harry was off to the side talking with friends. That, too, was now predictable. He had buried the hatchet with everyone in the Order, including Harry, and was now able to see that he had never craved the spotlight. He did another sweep of the room. Hermione was dancing with Oliver Wood. That was not predictable. He looked to see where Ron was and found him talking to Harry but watching Hermione with a scowl. Once that dance ended, she found Percy and they started to dance. More dances, more scowls from Ron. Ron eventually found a partner for a dance, but kept his eye on Hermione. As her dance was ending with Dean Thomas, Hermione looked for a new partner, but people were taking a break. Severus' feet carried him to her before his brain had completely formulated a plan of what to say.

He didn't have to speak, however, as Dean and Hermione were finishing a conversation, but then Dean nervously walked away as Severus got closer. Hermione looked over her shoulder to see what Dean was looking at and found Severus. She smiled.

"Severus," she said, grabbing his hand to dance, looking relieved.

"Hermione," he greeted as the dance started.

"How are you?" she asked politely.

"You should just break up with him," he replied.

Hermione scowled at him but then put a smile back on her face. "I don't know what you mean. How have you been?"

"You're a horrible liar," he replied, without any heat.

She stopped dancing and looked at him. She rolled over her wrist and arm to show him her scar from Malfoy Manor. "I have this to remind me I'm not."

He dipped his head in acquiescence. "Forgive me," and he held his hands out.

She placed her hands in his and they restarted the dance. She looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's not that easy. Nothing is effing easy these days, least of which is breaking up with Ron. I'm trying to remind him that I am my own person and I can dance with anyone I damn well please. We're not married. I'm not pregnant with a curly red headed child that Mrs. Weasley has already probably named."

At this, Severus winced. "That bad?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes." She paused and sighed, thinking. "No, not quite that bad. Yet. But I've got to end it. I just don't know how to. But me dancing with any male that moves - no offense, Professor - will probably start that ball rolling, don't you think?"

Severus smirked at her. "I do believe it will. What's your end goal?"

"To break up with Ron and not have every person that I love, including Ron, hate me."

Severus nodded. "Quit dancing with me and go dance with him. The rest will come. Anyone here with half a brain has figured it out by now."

Hermione smiled. "Well, at least I had fun doing it. It was good to see you, Pro-, Severus."

Severus nodded and casually flicked his head in the direction of Ron. "Good luck."

Hermione took a deep breath and squeezed Severus' hand, which surprised him. Then she walked off, head held high. He decided not to stick around to watch a different kind of fireworks. Minerva would surely fill him in later.

February 2000

Vaughn entered their lab, nodded to Hermione who had entered just two minutes before, and then went to his brewing station.

Severus looked at Vaughn and tried wishing him away, to no avail.

Hermione didn't look like she cared one whit. "You didn't come to Sunday dinner. I know you were invited."

"I was busy."

"You're a horrible liar," she deadpanned.

Severus scowled at her. "I don't like watching you get the cold shoulder from Molly."

Hermione smirked. "It's getting better. Ron brought that Quidditch player friend of Ginny's around and she's eased up. Now she's thinking of lovely strawberry blonde grandchildren. And besides, I need you there. Without you there, Sunday dinner is no different than a weeknight. Oh look, there's Harry, Ron and Ginny and some other redheads. Again."

"You picked them."

Hermione laughed. "Are we grabbing a pint Friday after work? I think Pomona and Minerva are coming, too."

Severus wondered for the millionth time how his friend group and Hermione's friend group got swirled together and mixed like a martini: shaken, not stirred. But he knew the answer: Hermione had a singular talent for conversing with people of all ages. Scratch that. She had a singular talent for conversing with intelligent people of all ages. She really was wasted in MLE. She was beginning to get a rep as "that witch in MLE." There were of course, other witches in MLE, but she was "that witch." Not that Severus cared. For years, he was "that Professor." He had worked hard at the Ministry not to become "that Potions wizard", but he didn't much care. If he hadn't hexed Vaughn by now, he was probably in the clear.

"I'll be there," he groused.

Hermione saw right through him. "Good! I've got to get back. If you can get that potion analyzed by tomorrow, I'd really appreciate it."

She completely ignored Vaughn as she said goodbye to Severus and left. He got such a perverse pleasure from seeing her have absolutely no manners when it came to Vaughn. It's not that Vaughn was mean or unintelligent. He just wasn't worth her time. Every time she ignored Vaughn, Severus got a jolt of energy being reminded that he was decidedly worth her time. And every time he got that jolt of energy he reminded himself that he walked a thin line with Hermione. It was thin, and it was not straight. It meandered and had phrases like "friend, but more like a relative" and "friendly ex-professor" and "friend, but not too close, not like Ron and Harry." And then it would take another turn like, "friend, but maybe better than Draco?" And then it would take another quieter turn like, "friend, but could be more."

The truth was that Hermione took up way too much of his mental energy. She was his biggest surprise post-battle. And that was saying a lot. Having a Phoenix show up and heal you a hair's width from death was kind of surprising. Being pardoned and called a hero and being offered a job at the Ministry was kind of surprising. But having Hermione decide you were friend material was a special kind of surprise. At first, he wondered if he was her latest charity project, but then he got a glimpse into her and understood that the woman simply loved being right. She loved being right about him as a spy and being firmly on the side of the light during the war. She loved being right about her theory (confessed to him after a couple of pints) that Severus would be a good drinking buddy if he could relax. And she loved coming into his lab and being right about potions.

Hermione, Ron and Draco began in Ministry Law Enforcement at the same time that Severus was installed in Ministry Potions Lab 5. His lab was the potions arm of the entire MLE, testing confiscated potions and producing routine potions. Other labs would have been more interesting to Severus. There were research labs that he would give his right arm to be installed in. But beggars couldn't be choosers. And beggars got to see Hermione in Lab 5 pretty regularly.

In the beginning it drove him nuts.

May 1999

Hermione stormed into the lab, hair almost sparking with suppressed rage. "Severus, can you please tell the MLE this potion is safe?" She rolled her eyes and thrust the potion into his hands.

"How about this:" he growled. "How about you give me the damn potion and let me see if it's safe?"

She crossed her arms and scowled while he uncapped the vial. He tried to pretend that he was doing some super-secret Potions Master interpretation, but it failed. He rolled his eyes and handed it back to her. "Why did this even need to come to the lab?"

"Because!" she stormed. "Apparently, we left our brain cells at the door to the MLE. We can't possibly remember third-year Potions. If they didn't teach us in training, knowledge doesn't exist," she added sarcastically.

Severus smiled at her. Sarcasm. His mother tongue. "It might not exist. I see that Marcus Belby got MLE Employee of the Quarter."

She closed her eyes in frustration. Severus pulled up a stool for her and one for himself and set them down at his workstation. She opened her eyes at the sound of the stool being placed near her and she sat down heavily. "I don't have time to stay; I'm supposed to be working."

"You are working. You're saving the Wizarding World from hair-raising tonic. I'll sleep better tonight knowing that the MLE is out there protecting me." He accio'd two butterbeers from his personal cooling cabinet and then wandlessly locked the door.

At the sound, Hermione looked at him in question.

"It will give us enough time to vanish them if Vaughn comes back," he explained. "Lab safety is our number one priority," he deadpanned.

"Is Vaughn his first name or his last name?"

Severus merely shrugged, making Hermione laugh.

She took a drink of her butterbeer. "So, we're both in Shangri-La, huh? I'm asking you to test the lethal properties of hair-raising tonic, and you're being asked to test hair-raising tonic."

"Living the dream," and he toasted her bottle, making her chortle.

"Would you rather be here or at Hogwarts?" she asked, head cocked and eyes narrowed.

Severus swallowed some butterbeer along with his natural inclination to tell her off for asking such a personal question. Over the months, ever since dancing with her at George's wedding, it seemed that Hermione considered Severus to be "fair game" for personal questions. He had decided that personal questions simply went part and parcel with being "friend of Hermione" and tried his best to open up and answer her. So far, he had not been bit in the butt, so he kept answering the questions.

He sighed. "Probably Hogwarts. I wasn't asked last year when the war ended, nor did I want to go back after that disastrous year as Headmaster. But now? I'd like to be back with some of my colleagues. The students would still drive me crazy, but maybe not as crazy as bureaucracy. And I'd have a research lab instead of a… whatever this is," gesturing to the bare-bones lab.

"I can't believe Slughorn stayed at Hogwarts."

Severus scoffed. "Of course he stayed. Are you kidding? He's at Hogwarts cultivating the next generation of Slug Club members to install into a Ministry ravaged by war with holes to be filled in every department. He's already installed one of his favorites here. He's a junior brewer in Lab 3. This is a dream come true for him: influence at every turn, no threats of war, students bribing him endlessly with crystalized pineapple."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Lab 3. Are you kidding? You weren't moved up? That is ridiculous."

Severus shrugged in response. "What about you? Where would you be if you had the choice?"

Hermione hummed. "I ask myself that all the time. Where would I rather be? And I don't have an answer. So I just stay. I've got my friends with me. That's something."

June 2001

"Let's go together! What is the big deal?"

Severus stared at Hermione. "The big deal? Half the wizarding world will be at this wedding, Hermione. The press will be all over this. Front page. Gossip columns for weeks. And you think you should show up on my arm?"

"'On your arm?' Do you know how old that makes you sound?"

That earned her a well-practiced scowl.

"And why the hell not?" She crossed her arms. "I don't care what the gossip columns say. Surely you don't care what gossip columns say anymore. We've both had way worse than what anyone can concoct." She paused. "I don't want to go at all. I sure as hell can't go there alone," she confessed, looking down at the lab table.

"The wedding? Or the manor?"

"The manor, of course," she said, looking at him like he was daft.

Severus studied her for a minute over his cauldron. He stirred the burn salve again to give himself a moment to think, even though it was already cool and didn't really need it.

The door opened and Vaughn reentered the lab, looking between Severus and Hermione.

"Let me decant this for you. I think it's cool enough," Severus said, moving to grab a tray of vials.

A few moments later, the vials were full and labeled and stoppers had been magically put into place.

"Thanks," Hermione said flatly, moving to take the tray from the lab table.

His hand covered hers before she could lift the tray, making her look at him in surprise. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty on Saturday," Severus groused.

Hermione beamed. "Thank you!"

At a quarter after six on Saturday night, Severus looked at himself in the mirror and decided that it was time for some truth-telling. Not necessarily to Hermione, but definitely to himself. Three years of post-war freedom had been enough to tell him a few things. One, that witches were not clamoring after him, nor was he clamoring after hordes of witches. There had been a few over-romanticizing weird ones at the beginning, but since then, no witch had caught his eye. Two, that the previous statement was a lie; one witch had caught his eye. Three, that for some reason said same witch wanted to spend time with him tonight. At a wedding. And he banished other thoughts like, "you were her only choice," as the lies that they were. Hermione could have asked many wizards to escort her. This was the event of the year and the world was her oyster for her plus-one. He didn't know what he was to Hermione, exactly, but he knew exactly what Hermione was to him. She was the person that understood him the most, tolerated him the most, vexed him the most, and made him smile the most. He was a freer man by a country mile since the war, but his smiles were not free. They were earned: with cleverness, humor and sarcasm, sincerity, intelligence and acceptance. And she had all of those qualities in spades. He had no idea what she wanted from Severus, but he was damned sure that tonight he was going to be all in. Once his mental pep-talk was over, he apparated to the alley behind her London flat near the Ministry.

Hermione opened the door and at once looked like the picture of confidence wrapped in a bow of insecurity. Her dark grey dress could only be described as a power move. It made her look mature, sexy, successful and out of every man's league. He had never seen her look like that. But the spy had already noticed that her hands were trembling.

Severus crossed the threshold and held his hand out for Hermione, who timidly put her hand in Severus'. He drew her hand up high and twirled her to show off her dress. She was smiling when she was facing him once more. "You look spectacular, Hermione."

Hermione blushed. "Thank you. It means a lot that you would," she began, but he cut her off.

"I'm the fortunate one, not you."

Hermione took a deep breath. "You're going to have to apparate us. We look too good for me to splinch us," she joked.

He held his hand out once more for Hermione, and she placed her hand in his. "I am going to take care of you tonight."

She took another deep breath and nodded.

They landed in the assigned apparition location and looked at each other, eyebrows high. It looked like Lucius and Narcissa had outdone themselves for the occasion. And while Severus would never admit it out loud, everything they could see was breathtaking.

"Damn," he whispered.

"Indeed," she whispered under her breath. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow.

He pointedly looked down at her hand on his arm. "Look who's showing up on my arm," he teased.

She mock scowled. "You're right. Not old at all," and she smiled and winked to soften her words.

He led her through the ornate front garden, lit with fairies and lanterns. People said hello or smiled at Hermione and Severus as they walked in. Severus kept his face impassive, but inwardly he was shocked that the looks they had received were not laced with disdain. True, he and Hermione had been friends for years and had been seen together multiple times. But, damn, did they not see how she was dressed?

They reached the foyer of the manor. Severus looked down at Hermione and placed his free hand over hers, which had a death grip on his elbow. "I've got you."

She nodded to him and valiantly tried to plaster a smile onto her face.

He walked her into the grand room, the room where she had been tortured and a wave of anger and sadness fell over him. He navigated her quickly towards one of the walls so that she could have time and not be jostled by people. He could only imagine how Hermione felt, slaying one of the last of her dragons. He had his own share of nightmares concerning this room, but he had been back to the Manor multiple times since the end of the war and the emotions had dulled.

There were many people circulating about the grand room. But within minutes of entering the room, Severus spotted Harry and Ron, who left their dates and came for Hermione. He stepped away from Hermione as Harry and Ron embraced her. He didn't hover, so he couldn't hear any of their words, but when the trio emerged from their huddle a few minutes later, all of their eyes were red-rimmed.

Ron, who Severus had since come to learn was an excellent diffuser, said something that had all of them now laughing, so Severus felt safe to come back closer to the group.

"Severus," Harry said, and he and Ron both shook his hand. "Good to see you. Let's go find Ginny and Jewel." Harry led the way and Hermione squeezed the crook of his arm once more.

Like most events since the war, the Order members had naturally gravitated towards one another. Minerva, Kingsley, George, Lee Jordan and others were talking with Ginny and Ron's new girlfriend, Jewel.

Hermione let go of Severus to hug Ginny and Jewel, and Severus turned to greet Kingsley and Minerva, whose eyebrow rose slightly as she turned her view from Hermione to Severus.

"Why don't you come 'round for tea next weekend, Severus," Minerva said in a way that promised him firewhisky instead of tea in exchange for some gossip.

Severus smirked. "How have you been, Kingsley?"

"I'm doing all right. But not as good as you, old man," he said just loud enough for Minerva and Severus to hear.

"It's not quite like that," Severus answered, scowling. But inwardly, while he would have liked Kingsley to put his eyes back in his head, having a wizard three years his senior appraise Hermione in a less-than-fatherly way made Severus feel normal. Annoyed at Kingsley, but normal.

A gong - "Really? A gong?" Severus thought - sounded from the direction of the back garden and the guests started making their way to the garden. He received another familiar jolt to his stomach when Hermione turned to find Severus and grabbed his hand. She smiled at him and he couldn't help but smile back at her. Damn these weddings. Did they make everyone behave abnormally?

Lucius and Narcissa had all but guaranteed that Draco and Astoria's wedding would not be topped within their lifetime. Everything from the garden to the lights to the chairs and decorations was bizarrely over-the-top (part of Severus wanted to scoff at having ice sculptures in June), but at the same time were also amazingly tasteful and pleasing to the eye. Severus could tell that no one could find fault with anything. Men were slack-jawed and women were doe eyed at the level of romanticism.

Seeing Draco get married to a good woman was meaningful to Severus. Just another reminder that it was good to be alive and it was good that Voldemort was dead. He smiled - again, what was with him tonight? - at Hermione. She smiled back at him; another reminder that it was good to be alive.

During the reception, Severus held his hand out to Hermione. "First dance goes to me, and then I'll let your adoring fans get in line."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they started to dance. "Adoring fans? I think that will be a short line of Harry and Ron. Maybe a few more married red heads. Being 'that witch' in MLE doesn't make for a long line of adoring fans."

"More fool they."

Hermione smiled and squeezed his hand.

"How are you feeling? Is it as bad as you imagined it would be?"

Hermione tilted her head. "It's not as bad as I imagined. It's hard to reconcile this wonderland with the bleak place I visited three years ago. And it's hard to be here with so many happy people and not be happy."

He looked at her and smiled softly, receiving another hand squeeze in response.

The rest of the night was spent talking with friends and watching Hermione, just as she predicted, dance only with Harry, Ron and married Weasley men. At one point, Kingsley looked like he might ask Hermione to dance, so Severus stepped up to dance with her once again. They eventually got to spend a few minutes congratulating Draco and Astoria. When he shook Draco's hand, Draco leaned in to talk to Severus.

"I'll always owe you, Severus."

Severus tried to shrug Draco off, but he wouldn't have it.

"I mean it." He glanced at Hermione as she talked to Astoria and then back at Severus. "I hope you're as happy one day." The comment was quiet and quick and Draco moved immediately to hug Hermione and let Severus off the hook for responding. He watched as Hermione talked to Draco and then joined Severus at his side.