Author's Note: I'd just like to shower all reviewers and followers/favoriters of the story with thanks, they really do mean a lot to me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.

And sorry for taking such a long time to update, thanks for your patience!

A month after the wedding, Hermione Granger Potter walked down the street Spinner's End after work. She had some unfinished business with her former Professor. Harry didn't know she was here. He'd stayed late after work. Too bad. Earlier that morning, he'd said, "Oh, come on, Hermione. I don't think it's a good idea to bother him again. Let's just give him some space."

Right. She highly doubted that some more space would make Snape come around. She had to talk to she didn't have time for Snape's stubbornness. Not today. Briefly she wondered what she looked like. Was her hair all over the place? It had been a long day at work.

Oh, who cared?! She was now at Snape's front door. She knocked once. Twice. Well, third time's the charm.

Snape slammed his newspaper on the table. Couldn't an old man enjoy his paper and tea in the evening?! A persistent little bugger was at his door. The neighborhood kids knew that he didn't care for Girl Scout cookies or for Pee Wee soccer team fundraisers.

At his front door he was met with the determined face of none other than Hermione Granger, or was it Hermione Potter? No, she was too much of a feminist to abandon her last name. She looked haggard, to say the least. Her hair was all about her face in curly tendrils, falling out of her bun. Snape tried to hide his surprise, but found it impossible. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open. He'd never thought Hermione Granger herself would show up. Harry Potter? Sure, that boy seemed keen on developing ties with him, it was understandable of course, but he and Harry had too much of a bad past. He chastised himself, of course Hermione Granger would show up. He had just gone to their wedding not a month before! But where was her beloved husband? Had he finally given up?

Snape cleared his throat and curtly asked, "What are you doing here, Miss Granger?"

She immediately wiped off the determined look off of her face and mellowed herself down. She didn't think it too likely that Snape of all people would be happy to cooperate with a headstrong Hermione. She needed to show unconditional politeness. Which would be hard. Very hard.

"Professor, may I please come in?" she asked with the smile of an angel. Snape tried to grasp what had just happened. This girl, woman, in front of him just went from looking like she was going to viciously attack him to looking like the good girl everyone thought she was. But he knew better. He knew that she had an ulterior motive.

But before he knew it, she'd pushed her way into his home. She sat herself down on his lonely leather couch which rarely ever saw company. When she turned around and found him still standing at the door, she motioned him to come in and sit and down, as though he were the guest!

After he sat himself down, he looked at her expectantly as he had no idea what to do in these kinds of situations. He would offer her tea, he knew common courtesy, but the thing was . . .he didn't really want Hermione Granger to stay for long in his living room.

What on earth had she gotten herself into? Looking at her former Professor sitting in a tight posture on his armchair, in his dingy living room, which was not adorned in anything but a couch, a few footstools and shelves among shelves full of books. Old books with fraying spines and new glossy books, textbooks she knew had been part of their curriculum back when they went to Hogwarts. Little trinkets lined the tops of his shelves. How she'd love to spend a day exploring this living room!

"Are you done inspecting my home?" he asked, rather rudely.

"Hm? Oh, I was just looking. Those books look really interesting." She responded with a soft smile, trying to appear friendly.

Of course she'd comment on the books, the girl was a book freak. Much like he was. Weird, he'd never thought they'd have anything in common. Snape noticed how she, too, like him, sat stiffly, hands folded neatly in her lap and legs crossed at the ankles.

She cleared her throat, inhaled, raised her chin and asked majestically, "Professor Snape, Harry and I would like to invite you to our home for dinner next Thursday."

Snape immediately responded with the emotionless line of, "I'm afraid I won't be able to make it." He didn't know why he still refused, those two were onto him like hound dogs and it seemed as though they were never going to let up. But he was just not ready for this. Solitude he could handle for decades, but interactions? With the Golden Gryffindors? Unlikely.

Hermione slowly nodded her head, as though she had expected that answer. "I understand your hesitance. . ." she began, "but we'd really enjoy your presence. . .and we believe that it would be nice for you as well," she finished, a look of uncertainty on her face. God, why was she studying his face so critically?

"And I'd really enjoy for you to leave me be. I'm not interested in your dinners, or your brunches, or joining your biweekly Quidditch matches. In fact, I'd be content with never having to deal with the two of you ever again," he finished with a sense of finality.

But Hermione Granger Potter did not let someone else decide when she was done. That would be left to her. Immediately her demeanor changed. He wasn't going to respond to respect, was he? She was going to have to try another method. Oh god, this one was going to be a bit embarrassing.

She thought of Harry and how alone he felt sometimes, the times when he would just go into his room and she'd catch him looking longingly at pictures of those who had been lost in the war. He'd stop for minutes, just reminiscing whenever he saw an object that reminded him of others who had been in the war. But she also knew that Harry felt guilty. Guilty for always having doubted Snape, for never realizing the good in him.

And it was for Harry, that she looked Snape directly in his eyes, and begged, "Please, Professor! We're only trying to fix the past. You have no idea how much this would mean to Harry."

And it was then that Snape decided that Hermione Granger had beautiful eyes. Dark curly lashes surrounding brilliantly glossy amber eyes. Weird, how had he not noticed them before? For heaven's sake, he'd known her since her first year at Hogwarts. Perhaps she'd never really given him a look of desperation before. She looked heartbreaking, really. And for the shortest tick of a minute, he felt sorry for her. Hermione Granger had been in the war since a very young age, her only fault being the friend that she'd chosen. The same friend who was now her life partner. And in a bizarre turn of events, the war had decided to leave them here, on earth, alive to live their lives together.

So why did they want more? Why did it matter to them if an aging bitter old man was unwilling to show up for dinner?

"Professor? Please say something." Great, now she was looking at him anxiously.

And then he said something, the only thing on his mind, "Why? Why should I come?"

She looked at him incredulously. Did he really not know? No. He knew perfectly well, he just wanted to watch her squirm as a cause of actually talking to him.

"You're one of us," she said bluntly.

Snape only raised his eyebrows. Really, was he now?

Suddenly, she changed the topic.

"Tell me about Lily, Harry's mum. What was she like?" she asked with a light smile on her face. She knew that Lily Evans Potter had been quite a character, touching the lives of everyone she came to know.

Snape was taken aback, immediately after hearing Lily's name, he closed up. Thought it still hurt to talk about Lily, he felt a sense of relief, a sense of redemption after the war. But, no, he'd never talk about the wonder that was Lily Evans in front of anyone. It would just be too weird. She had been his best friend, the love of his life for years.

After a few seconds passed and Snape still said nothing, Hermione tried to make a conversation in an awkward atmosphere.

"I've heard she was very good at charms," she offered.

Snape couldn't stand by and let the record stay incorrect, he couldn't help himself, "Lily was not only wonderful at charms, but at potions as well. She could do anything she set her mind on. She was extremely intelligent, but never felt the need to be a know-it-all."

Despite the small jab, Hermione realized that he was more than just the Snape that she knew. He hadn't just been an undercover spy trying to redeem himself. He had been a best friend once, even a teenage kid with a crush on his best friend. And now? He was a teacher at Hogwarts, but was he lonely? He must be, she decided. How could he not be? Even in his time in the Order, he had never really gotten to be part of the gang. He was too distant.

Lily Evans Potter seemed like the complete opposite of someone like Snape. She had been like a shimmering ray of sunshine, or at least, that's how everyone described her. And Snape? A plant left in the dark.

"Did-did the other kids ever, you know, the Slytherin kids, not you of course, ever make fun of her? She had been a muggleborn, too, hadn't she?" Hermione asked hesitantly, in part the question was asked to get Snape talking, but Hermione had always been curious about how someone with blood prejudices would react to someone who essentially had no faults.

What a strange question to come from the Golden Girl of Gryffindor herself. Perhaps old wounds don't heal after all. He knew his godson, Draco, had not always been the most tolerant person.

"Lily had no problem standing up to those who were quick to judge her based on her blood status." He replied, after all, he of all people should know.

"I'm glad. I'm glad that she didn't let anyone hinder her," Hermione said softly, mind deep in thought. Was it harder back then? Were prejudices stronger then?

"You never let it hinder you, either. In fact, I'd even say you used it as motivation," Snape replied, how could he not let her know that she was just as good as anyone, if not better? He didn't need to have her think that he was prejudiced against muggleborns just because he was a Slytherin.

Hermione's eyes brightened and she perked up. That had been the nicest thing Snape had ever said to her! She couldn't help but put on a giddy smile.

"Yes, well, I'm quite proud to be a mudblood now, at first, it did make me feel inferior. But not for long though, how could I? Most of the people around me were very encouraging," and now Hermione found herself opening up.

Snape was stunned at her offhand use of the word "mudblood." One would have thought she of all people would have detested the word.

"Did Potter ever show you the memories?" Snape couldn't help asking. Exactly how much did she know about him?

Well, he certainly learned something about her, she was terrible at hiding her emotions. A look of guilt swept over her face, she knew those memories weren't for her, but Harry had let her, he had wanted her to do this. Great, and now blood was rushing up to her face, the most honest sort of confession.

"Um, well-" she gulped, "I-yes. Yes, he did. I know those were very personal, but know that I think you were incredibly brave to do what you did for Lily, and Harry, and for, well, everyone really."

Oh. He was surprised. Though, honestly, what had he expected? How could he ever expect the two best friends to keep secrets from each other? Had Potter sent her here? Though he didn't particularly like Potter, he knew that Potter'd never let someone else do his bidding for him.

"Does Potter know you're here?" he asked though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Hermione exhaled heavily, her face looked resigned, was she even getting anywhere with him?

"No, Harry doesn't know I'm here," Hermione said. "Does it matter though?" She couldn't help but blurt out. How long could she keep this up? She'd tried, heaven knew she'd tried. He was just such a stubborn old man.

Snape knew the Granger girl was slowly losing her patience with him. Though he did have to admit, she was definitely an interesting character, for heaven's sake, she'd set fire to his robes in her first year solely because she THOUGHT he was trying to kill Potter.

Hermione looked outside the window and saw the crimson sun set, followed by a magenta veil. She hoped this hadn't all been for a lost cause and that she had changed his opinion.

"So, will you come? This coming Thursday? It'll just be the three of us, if you want we can invite Professor McGonagall and you can bring anyone you'd like, just to make you feel comfortable. I mean, it doesn't have to be a date, it could be an old friend or colleague or your godson . . .Anyone you'd like! Just owl us before-" and Hermione stopped talking. God! She'd been bumbling like a fool.

Snape drew pleasure from her obvious discomfort. Honestly, the girl was rather amusing.

And so he said yes. Finally.

"Yes, I'll come," he said casually with a slight shrug of his shoulder.

She beamed, threw her hands to her mouth, gasped, smiled, jumped up and twirled. She actually twirled!

She started babbling excitedly, hands flying about her as she made the plans, what they would do, what they would eat, oh, the things they could talk about! It would just be so much fun! Eventually, she had to leave and with a bright smile and hurried wave, Snape watched Lily's daughter-in-law bounce off into the evening.

"Honestly Lily," he murmured out loud to himself as he returned to his once again silent living room, "only for you I'd do something like this, only for you."

But the Lily in Heaven knew that her Sev was about to find a lot more people to care about than just her and she was happy for him, she finally got to be happy for him.

A/N: Okay, so that's it! Wow, it took me a looooong time to finish it, huh? I do like it, though. Hope it's not egotistical to say that.

Anyway, please leave comments. What were your expectations? Did you like it? How could I have improved? Yada yada yada. . .

Oh, and thanks for reading :)