Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are owned by JK Rowling.

A/N: Many thanks to my lovely beta Lucefray27!

Part 2: Dinner

The following afternoon, she quite literally bumped into Charlie Weasley at the Ministry.

"Oomph!" Rolls of parchment tumbled to the ground as her feet shuffled, fighting for balance. Charlie's large hands wrapped around her upper arms, steadying her.

"All right?" he asked. With their proximity, the flecks of silver in his blue eyes were more prominent.

Her head bounced up and down as she braced herself against the firm mounds of his impressive biceps. His grip loosened, and Hermione sighed, finding it easier to control her diaphragm when she stepped out of his hold.

She bent down to pick up the documents, asking, "What are you doing here?"—although, at this point, she was unsurprised that they had once again crossed each other's paths.

"I came by to have lunch with Ron," he replied. "Funny, I didn't think I'd see you at the Ministry today since it's a Saturday." He knelt to help her gather the stray parchments that had rolled away.

Hermione snorted. "Well, I would be home right now if it wasn't for that bloody, frightening—" She stopped herself before the words 'talking vibrator' left her lips. "—erm, expense report," she mumbled.

Charlie's eyebrows lifted. "'Frightening expense report?'"

She gulped. "If you saw how much our department spends on rubber gloves, you'd find it ghastly, too."

His expression twisted into a grimace. "Do I want to know why you need so many rubber gloves?"

"You really don't," she insisted.

"Fair enough," Charlie said as he grabbed the last roll.

When the parchments were once again stacked in her arms, Charlie laid a secure hand under her elbow and helped her up.

They stared at each other, and she had no idea what else to say. As she balanced her papers, her left foot crossed behind her right one. His hand went up and rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled dryly.

"So—" They said simultaneously. Awkward laughter filled the space between them as they gestured for the other to go on.

"Uh—I should probably—" she stammered, pointing down the hall towards the Records Office.

"Yeah, sure—" Charlie stepped to the side to let her pass.

As she headed down the hallway, Hermione hesitated a moment before she came to a stop.

Last night was strange. Preposterous. She double- and triple-checked the vibrator with the strongest detection spells she knew but found nothing out of the ordinary. In the judgment of the morning light, there was only one reason why she would imagine a voice to emanate from her vibrator: perhaps she was getting too attached to Billy Zane.

Ginny's words reverberated through her mind, and she decided to heed her good advice. Hermione needed to interact with real men, and here one was—a handsome one, at that, and conveniently in her vicinity.

"Erm…Charlie?" she called after him as she pivoted on her heels. "Speaking of meals, I thought about dinner…What I mean to say is—" she sputtered, "—are you still available to have dinner with me sometime?"

He answered her with a sunny smile.

ooOOoo

"A date?" Remus asked, a frown marring his expression. He shuffled through the pages of Severus' report again.

"A date," Severus confirmed. He pressed his lips together in a smug grin.

Remus glanced through the summary; he snorted. "With Charlie Weasley?"

Severus challenged him with an arch of an eyebrow. "Yes."

As he leaned back in his leather seat, Remus folded his arms across his chest. "What's your endgame?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"What are you blathering on about now?" asked Severus with a scoff.

"Why have you been trying to get Hermione on a date with Charlie Weasley?"

"Have you gone daft?" he sneered. "I'm merely following your instructions to ensure a romantic partner for Hermione Granger."

"Yes, but…Charlie Weasley?" Remus grimaced.

"That's what the Life Plan suggested," Severus said through gritted teeth. "If you don't like it, take your issue up with the Powers. None of this was my idea." He tilted forward in his seat. "May I also point out that your wife has been helping me in this endeavor? If you're making a list of people to bother with your complaints, I should be further down the list."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I told you before, that blasted Life Plan is just a guideline. You shouldn't follow it to the letter. And, Dora," he sighed, "is almost as bad as Sirius when it comes to her charge." His eyes darted up to the door, guilt washing over his expression. "Erm—don't tell her I said that," he mumbled.

"I'll try not to let it slip," Severus deadpanned.

"Uh—thanks," Remus folded his hands on his desk and fixed him with an analyzing gaze. "I'm not trying to micromanage you," he said, "but I am worried about the consequences of the two of them dating. Have you thought about how this might affect her other relationships?"

Severus met his calculating look with a stony stare.

"How dating Charlie Weasley may affect her friendship with Ron?" At Severus' stoic expression, Remus prodded, "You know—her ex-slash-best friend? Charlie Weasley's brother?"

"I am aware," Severus replied stiffly. "I've yet to see a problem."

"Right," Remus muttered, the corners of his lips turning down. "Because you, of all people, wouldn't understand such a thing as jealousy."

Severus' chair scraped back as he swiftly stood up and stomped to the door.

"Wait!" Remus hurried after him, catching the crook of Severus' elbow before he could leave the office. "Wait! I apologize. That was over the line."

With a sneer on his lips, Severus glowered at the contrite man.

"Just—be careful, Snape," warned Remus. "Hermione's a strong person. I'm confident she can handle any awkward situations that may come up from this, but—" he hesitated, "—getting her friendship with Ron back on stable ground was a hard-fought battle. I'd hate to see this be a point of contention between them."

Severus huffed as he wrenched his arm out of Remus' grasp and strode out of the room.

ooOOoo

"You know," Ginny said, "I'm not sure how I feel about helping you shop for a sexy dress to impress my brother." Her voice was muffled by the curtains that separated them.

"That's not what you're here for." Hermione struggled to lift the red dress over her head. "You're here to prevent a murder."

"Oh?" said Ginny.

"Someone's about to be strangled by a cocktail dress," Hermione pronounced.

The curtain whipped aside, revealing a tall, blond man in a bespoke, forest green suit.

Hermione screamed. "Malfoy!" With the red dress bunched around her neck—she was pretty sure her hair was stuck in the zipper—she slapped her hands over her chest and crotch. "Bloody hell!"

"First of all," Draco said as he sauntered inside the dressing room, eyeing the outfit she had been trying on with distaste, "I'd never get caught dead in anything so cheap."

He thrust more dresses into her arms. As Ginny stepped inside and slid the curtain closed, Hermione gave up on covering her bra and panties with her palms.

"Second," he continued, "it's not my fault that you don't like anything in this store—I told you, we should have gone to the shop across the street from Gringotts'—"

"I'm not keen to spend a month's salary on one dress!" She dropped the bundle of clothes on the bench and pulled the red dress over her face. As suspected, a lock of hair had stuck to the zipper. "It's just a date, anyway."

Draco tugged the material out of her hands and worked to untangle the mess. "Well, you're never going to find anything here, even if it is 'the right price,'" he said, testing the phrase as if it was the first time he'd said those words in that order. "Not with your attitude, anyway." Draco met her eyes in their reflection, squinting in accusation. "Do you even want to go on this date?"

Her eyes sidled to Ginny, who was leaning against the doorframe and holding the curtain closed. Hermione gave her a tight smile. "Of course."

Draco scoffed. "The things I do for Potter," he muttered as he jerked her tangled curls from the zipper's metal teeth.

"I didn't—ow!—ask you to be here!" Hermione winced at Draco's rough assistance.

"I need to make sure you don't fuck this up, Granger." With a final tug, he freed her hair and handed her the offending dress. "We need a fourth for our Thursday dinners. I'm tired of it just being the three of us. The dynamic's all wrong."

"I don't mind being the third wheel." She shrugged as she faced him.

"You're not the third wheel," Draco whinged. "I'm the third wheel. For Merlin's sake, do you know how boring it is to have dinner with you and Potter with all your shop talk and reminiscing? If I have to hear about 'that time in the Forest of Dean,' or 'do you remember when we rode that dragon or thestral or whatever other magical creature,'" he mocked, "I swear to the Founders, I will invite Grawp to dinner so I can have some decent conversation."

Hermione chortled.

"I mean it, Granger." Draco picked through the pile of dresses on the bench and handed her a black garment with a short skirt. "Don't fuck this up. You need to bring someone for me to talk to during our dinners."

"Really? Even if it's Charlie?"

Draco waved his hand. "He's the least annoying Weasley—"

"Hey!" Ginny yelled.

"—Present company excluded, of course." Draco rolled his eyes. "Doesn't hurt that he's also got the nicest bum," he murmured.

"Doesn't he just?" Hermione agreed.

"Still here!" Ginny called.

"Present company excluded," Hermione said with a wink at her best girlfriend.

"That's more like it!"

Draco sighed as he examined Hermione's reflection once again. "Well, let's get you looking your best, then." His gaze flickered down; his frown deepened. "We also need to get you some lingerie."

Heat crept into her cheeks. "It's not like Charlie's going to be seeing me in my knickers anytime soon!" she hissed.

"It's not for Weasley." He glanced down again. "Your arse says Tuesday."

She shrugged.

"It's Friday."

"They were clean when I put them on this morning!" she insisted.

"Still, you're a grown woman with a high position in the Ministry," he said, shaking his head in dismay. "Your arse shouldn't be doubling as a day planner."

ooOOoo

When Severus arrived at Tonks' work booth, he was greeted with an unwelcome sight.

"Are you here for the program?" Sirius asked. His feet were propped up on the desk, a bowl of popcorn on his lap.

Beside him, Tonks lounged in similar fashion. She conjured a chair and waved Severus over. "Come in! Date night's about to start!"

His lips curled in disgust. "I'm not here to watch," he sneered. "Anyway, shouldn't you be at the dinner?" he asked Tonks.

Her eyebrows knit together. "Why?"

"To make sure your charge remembers how to chew with his mouth closed."

Tonks parted her lips, but then a thoughtful expression came over her face. She faced Sirius. "Actually, it would be better if I watched from the sidelines on this one." She turned back to Severus. "But not because he doesn't know to be civilized. I just want to make sure things don't get mucked up."

"Aw, but make sure it's still entertaining!" Sirius said through a mouthful a popcorn. Tonks threw him a wink.

"Are you coming?" she asked Severus.

He shook his head. "I have the utmost confidence in my charge's table manners. I'm quite sure I won't be needed."

"Suit yourself," she muttered. In a blink, she was gone.

The crunch of popcorn filled the silence.

"Are you truly going to sit here and watch their date?" Severus asked.

"Nothing else to do. Neville's decided to visit his grandmother," Sirius complained. "There's no way I want to be staring at that old crone's face all night!"

"Pathetic," Severus muttered as he swept out of the cubicle.

ooOOoo

Tea candles floated inches from the white linen tablecloth. Servers milled about, speaking in hushed tones as they recited tonight's specialty menu and took orders. There was nary a clink nor a scrape of utensils against the fine china—not in this posh establishment, where guests and employees alike were on their best behavior.

Her hands smoothed over the cloth napkin on her lap. Across the round table, Charlie shifted in his seat. He twisted and turned his neck as he adjusted the knot of his tie once again.

"All right?" Hermione asked.

He glanced up and gave her a taut grin. "Yeah, just—just not used to this." He waved his fingers over his outfit. He was dressed in shades of blue—a light blue button-up with a stiff collar under a smart navy jacket, accented with a blue paisley tie. It was an overall pleasing combination that brought out his captivating eyes.

"You look great," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He returned it with a rakish grin. "So do you."

Her cheeks burned—both from the compliment and from the way his eyes briefly grazed down her neck and over her exposed shoulders.

"Thank you," she murmured.

With another grin, Charlie glanced down at the menu. Hermione fought the urge to use the heavy-stock paper in her hand to fan herself.

ooOOoo

Without his bothersome office-neighbor around, Severus used the blessed silence to catch up on Potions journals. There were several advances in the field while he had been in the Icebox. Although he no longer had any use for such knowledge, old habits were hard to break—even after death.

Amid reading through a study on medicinal applications of lizard hearts, he felt a flutter of his own.

He glowered at the journal on the desk as the light, flitting sensation turned painful, squeezing and pulling at the center of his chest.

"Hermione," he grunted as an invisible hand gripped his heart. He had to get to Hermione Granger—that much he knew, even without word or comprehension.

He closed his eyes and pictured her face. In the next moment, he was standing next to her, and the agony in his chest disappeared.

Despite being more hands-off with his charge than other Guardians, Severus had observed Hermione often enough that he had quickly become fluent in her nonverbal cues. The way her stiff shoulders hovered near her ears and the rigid set of her lips informed him that she was agitated—perhaps even angry or upset. The shallow angle of her eyebrows as they knit together advertised that she was deep in contemplation—there was a question in her eyes, as well hard determination; she looked to be on a mission.

Her wand was tight in her grip, and she flicked and waved it with sharp movements. When her locking spells dissipated, she yanked on the brass handle and slid the drawer completely out. She set the drawer on her bed, hesitating for only a moment before reaching in for the pink microphone.

She perched on the edge of the mattress, smoothing the skirt of her sensible navy dress with one hand while the other cradled the microphone in front of her face.

"Erm—Billy?" she whispered. "Are—are you there?" She took a deep breath and then held it closer, tilting her ear toward the object in her hand.

Severus pondered. Direct contact with his Living charge was against the rules; it said so on page 31 of the Life Plan.

Then again, how many times had Remus informed him that the Life Plan should be treated more as a guideline rather than a rulebook? Severus smothered a triumphant laugh at the prospect of using Remus' words against him.

"Yes," Severus projected through the object. "I'm here. What do you want?" Hermione froze, her eyes widening—and he realized that she wasn't truly expecting a response. He sighed as he clutched his temples. "Well?" he continued, deciding he should just follow through on this ridiculous endeavor. "I don't have all day."

The comment snapped Hermione out of her stupor. "My apologies," she said acerbically. "I didn't realize I'm keeping you from an important appointment in my nightstand. Do you have a dinner date with my box of condoms?"

"You are the one who took me out of the drawer. You're the one who talked to me first," he said, "so, I'm assuming you have something to say. Out with it."

Her breaths came in quick, shallow pants. Her eyes brightened as curiosity surpassed any other emotion on her face. "I have so many questions I need to ask you!" she blustered.

"And I'll answer one of them."

"But—but—" she sputtered. "What—How—" She paused, a thoughtful look forming on her face, before deciding on, "Why—" Her tone vacillated between curiosity and distrust. "Why did you tell me to go out with Charlie?"

In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. "Because," Severus answered gravely, "Charlie Weasley is your soulmate."

Hermione gaped at the object in her hand. A quiet giggle escaped her. It quickly turned into a chortle; and then a laugh; and then a guffaw. "Are you having me on?" She doubled over, wrapping her arms over her midsection as another wave of raucous laughter took over.

Severus leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed as he waited for his charge to come back to her senses.

It took several minutes.

"Are you quite done?" he hissed when she had finally quieted.

"First of all," she said, straightening up to catch her breath, "there's no such thing as a soulmate." Hermione picked up the pink object, which had fallen beside her on the mattress during her bout of mirth. She brought it up at eye level. "And, even if there was, I highly doubt that my bloody vibrator would be the one to tell me!"

"Your what?" The term was new to him.

She barked a laugh. "Wait. Do you not know what you are?"

Hermione proceeded to tell him.

ooOOoo

"Hello?" She gave Billy Zane a gentle shake. "Still there?"

It took almost a full minute before she got a response. "Yes," replied the grim voice.

"Are you all right? Bit of a shock to realize your—erm—purpose in life?" She couldn't help the mischievous smile that formed on her lips. "Billy?"

"I'm here," he said, still sounding somber. "Let's…stop talking about it now."

She chuckled. "Feeling a bit self-conscious, are you?"

"Ugh," was Billy's reply. If Billy was a person, she could imagine him shaking his head.

"You know, it's not so bad—you're one of my favorite things in the world!" she goaded. "You're always there whenever I'm stressed or having a bad day or feeling randy—"

Billy groaned.

"Of course, you do have to spend the majority of your time up my twa—"

"Enough, Miss Granger," he said sternly.

Her breath hitched. The way he said her name—it was both alien and familiar, like a wordless melody stuck in her head, a song she knew but couldn't quite remember the name.

"Who are you, really?" she whispered. She turned the vibrator over again in her hands, inspecting for signs of tampering. "Obviously, you're not really a sentient vibrator. You must be using this as some sort transmitter or two-way radio."

Once again, she spelled revealing charms over the object and came up empty. She released a frustrated sigh. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"I believe I've already answered your question for today," her vibrator said. "Go on another date with Charlie Weasley, and I'll answer another one."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated!