Hermione watched him cautiously as he slid the wand back into his pocket and stepped away from the door into the hallway. It was light and airy, the paintwork a pleasing robin's egg blue with white skirting boards and baltic pine floors. Not at all as she might have expected, which must have shown on her face as she noted the deepening scowl on her host.

Still wary, she paused for an instant on the threshold before making herself step through so he could close the door and lead the way down the passage which appeared to run the length of the house.

The doors leading from the hall were all closed, giving her no chance to see what lay beyond. However, it was with interest she saw what must be the lighter she had come to investigate. It sat on a long narrow table against the wall of the corridor beneath a glass bell jar, also on the table were an antique deck of cards, an ancient-looking figurine and a battered tobacco tin with a bullet lodged in it, each similarly on display.

Reaching the end of the hallway, they emerged into the kitchen, French doors looked out into the back yard where rows of garden beds boasted a meticulously tended herb garden, beyond which a pretty, woodsy, sort of wilderness lay. The kitchen itself was all dark wood and gleaming black tile. Dominating the room were floor to ceiling, glass-fronted cabinets holding jars of dried herbs, exotic spices and mysterious looking ingredients all labelled in a familiar spiky handwriting, while a dozen cast iron pots and pans hung from a rack above the island bench.

Although lacking the dungeons' perpetual gloom Hermione was still strongly reminded of the potions lab and seeing him here it was easier to believe her host was indeed her former Potions Professor. Alive and apparently well.

Snape, for that, was who she now accepted it was, walked to the far end of the kitchen by the sink, but Hermione hung back, keeping the island bench between them as she tried to get a handle on the situation while an endless procession of questions presented themselves.

She watched him silently as he filled and switched on the electric kettle and then casually reached onto a shelf beside the sink and flipped the radio off.

"Odd" Hermione thought to herself. "That was definitely a radio, not a wizarding wireless," she glanced around the well-appointed space as he set out cups for tea and noted a toaster, an electric mixer and other standard Muggle appliances. This certainly seemed to be a Muggle home rather than a magical household.

Next, she found herself examining her host. Hermione thought he looked well, still slender but without being gaunt, as he had been previously. Likewise, he seemed less sallow than she remembered and she supposed he must be getting more sun in this new life of his. Wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark blue jeans he certainly looked the part.

"Although," she mused "his hair is still too long to be fashionable."

As she watched him brew the tea, the breath caught in Hermione's throat with a soft gasp, startled at the sight of the black snake and skull openly visible on his forearm. Even though a tattoo like that fit with a modern Muggle persona and she doubted anyone in the mundane world would have spared it a second glance, she couldn't ward off the sudden way her heart lurched against her ribs, or how her scalp prickled at once again seeing the Dark Mark on someone's arm.

Snape stopped dead at her faint exclamation lapsing into an almost unnatural stillness, the way an animal might when it scents danger. Following her glance to his arm, he carefully placed the teacups on the benchtop in front of him and rolled down his sleeve concealing the mark from view. Then sought her eyes while raising both hands to chest height palm open toward her.

"Miss Granger?" He said, his tone silky "Miss Granger, put up your wand. I have no intention of hurting you."

It was only then Hermione became aware of the wand in her hand; it's comforting smoothness held firm pointed directly at the heart of the man in front of her. She expelled a long ragged breath, forcing her shoulders to relax, and lowering the wand to her side.

"It seems I must also apologise for my reflexes Sir".

The "Sir" had slipped out before she could catch it and she bit her tongue furiously nevertheless she held his gaze. Finding herself once more regarding the face of her former Professor, something began to nag her about his appearance, a flash of insight gone before she could grasp it, leaving in its wake a sense that something was not quite right. She felt her eyebrows draw together and her brow furrow as she worried at the edges of it trying to put her finger on what it was that was out of place.

o0o

Severus sifted through his options, the woman was obviously rattled to find him alive, and the feelings being dredged up rendered the situation more volatile than he would have liked. Her heightened startle reflex dissuaded him from trying to stun or confund her; an all-out duel in his kitchen was not a desirable outcome for this situation. He also discounted obliviating her. Whatever else you might say about her, Miss Granger had a remarkably organised mind with much time spent developing her ability for recall. He suspected that anything more subtle than a crude, brute-force memory modification would eventually break down and as tempting as he told himself that maybe, he had no genuine inclination to render her into a state like that detestable blowhard, Lockhart.

Severus found himself once more scowling at her as he recognised the instant when the idea took root that something about him was off.

"Why did I even bother studying Legilimency?" He thought as his jaw tensed in anticipation of the question he knew would come.

"You're not dead?" she said

"Evidently."

"But how? I saw you...leave." He cocked an eyebrow at her choice of words and that defiant little chin jutted out, "I saw you die, Mr Snape" she said more firmly.

"Obviously, Miss Granger, you didn't." Severus heard a familiar haughty tone creep into his voice. "Even Muggles know that death can be harder to establish than you might think. It's why only Doctors can certify when someone has died. I cannot think of anyone less reliable to do so than three malnourished, sleep-deprived, adrenaline-fuelled teenagers in the midst of a pitched battle."

He watched as she slid her wand away taking those few seconds to school her features into a relaxed, neutral sort of expression.

"Of course, you're quite right," she said "I suppose the three of us must have simply been mistaken," but the disarming smile which followed did not reach her eyes. She didn't believe it for a second.

"Insufferable know-it-all," he thought as he slid the still steaming cup across the bench toward her.

"Your tea, Miss Granger."

o0o

"What a load of tripe." Hermione thought as she accepted the proffered cup and stepped closer to the bench so she could add milk and sugar. She stirred the aromatic liquid and then gently lay the teaspoon next to it on the saucer but made no move to drink. After thirty seconds or so of silence, Snape picked up his own and took a mouthful, letting the silence lengthen a few beats more.

"What is it you want Miss Granger?" He asked and leaned against the counter behind him. He took another sip and placed the cup down beside him, his long fingers making the movement seem dainty.

"I was sent to retrieve something believed to be in the possession of a Mr Sorenson Kerr. Would I be correct in thinking that is, in fact, you?" She said.

There was a pause while he picked up his cup, and then a nod as he glared at her over its rim, a calculating glint in his eyes.

"And you bought a silver lighter at Tin Pots and Tea Kettles several days ago that was once the part of the estate of a squib, Able Date? "

He shifted slightly, his shoulders dropping almost imperceptibly as the tension went out of his whippet-like frame.

"You're here for Earnest Date's Trench art lighter?" His inflection was incredulous and faintly amused, as though the idea of that being the cause for her visit would not have occurred to him.

"Able Date" Hermione corrected.

"Earnest Date," He said in a tone mimicking her own.

"How very unlike you not to have done your homework, Miss Granger. The lighter may have been part of Able's estate, but it originally belonged to his elder brother, Earnest, who fought in the First World War and always swore it was his lucky charm. He was so adamant about its influence that years later when Able was born and found to be a squib, he insisted on gifting it to his brother because he thought Able would need luck more than he did. Earnest had become very rich and influential by then, and many of the family put it down to the charmed lighter. Now tell me, why is The Ministry bent on retrieving such a trifle? Even if it is a reputed Augerite?"

"Augerite?" Hermione scoffed, "Lucky charms are an utter nonsense."

"Are they indeed?" A single eyebrow arched in response to her pronunciation. "Then why on earth are you here in search of one?"

Hermione rested a hand on her hip.

"The Ministry received a report from a cousin of Mr Date that a potentially hexed or inappropriately charmed object amongst his things may have passed into the possession of Muggles."

Snape surprised her then with a deep, pleasant, laugh.

"A report no doubt engineered by Alistair Lifera." Snape shook his head with an amused twist to his lips as he again reached for his tea.

"He was several years ahead of me at school. The Liferas were the poor but pureblood relations to the Date family, and Alistair was always grousing that any Augerite should have been kept in the Magical community - meaning it should have been given to his branch of the family. How unfortunate for Alistair that I beat him to it. This was the best chance to get his hands on it I suppose."

Hermione nodded, well aware that it was indeed one of the Liferas who had made the report. She rubbed her temples.

"Well, that creates quite a conundrum."

"How so, Miss Granger? The Liferas wanted the lighter, I had already purchased it in good faith. End of story."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the bench top.

"Oh don't be obtuse Mr Snape, or, should I call you Mr Kerr? I have only three options open to me in a situation where a paper trail leading here exists." She said and then ticked them off on her fingers.

"One: Return with the object. Two: Log a report that it remains in the hands of a wizard, which will draw attention as there are no known Magicals in the area, or, Three: Log a report that the object was unrecovered from the owner of record. Which is almost certainly going to attract a visit from the Misuse of Muggle Artifact Office, or worse, a squad of Obliviators. Do you have a preference?"

He glowered at her from beneath his brows but said nothing.

She threw her hands up in the air.

"Honestly! Can't you see I'm trying to help? I know we weren't friends, but we were still on the same side. What changed that you're willing to hide here amongst Muggles? Willing to draw a wand on me just for coming to the door? Willing to drug my tea?"

"I want to be left alone." He said in that familiar sotto voce. "And as interested as I am to study an Augerite whose history has been thoroughly documented, I want to be left in peace more. So, just take it and get out.

He turned away from her as he put his cup in the sink.

"Granger, one more thing."

"Yes?" Hermione tensed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, unsure what to expect.

"How did you know there was sleeping draught in the tea?"

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and smiled.

"Constant Vigilance," she said and was rewarded with another chuckle as she moved toward the hallway.

Hermione paused, the cool brass of the doorknob in her palm.

"Tell you what, Professor Snape, there might be a fourth option."

o0o

After further terse discussion, they had come to an arrangement. As Hermione had planned to stay in Ticehurst over the weekend anyway, Professor Snape could investigate the lighter over the weekend and Hermione would return with it to the Ministry on Monday with no one any the wiser.

Saturday had been an ecstasy of sleeping in, followed by a ramble in Bedgebury National Forest and an afternoon spent stopping at whatever little village shops caught her eye for tea and second-hand book buying on the way back to her Bed and Breakfast.

Sunday, she had decided, would be for exploring Ticehurst itself. So, after a late, lazy, breakfast Hermione resolved to take a stroll through the town and explore the historic church on its outskirts.

She was only a block from her digs when she went to cross the mouth of a narrow lane and caught sight of a familiar figure in conversation a stone's throw away. Hermione stepped back and peeped around the corner.

There, in the dappled shade of the country byway, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. An elderly woman stood several feet away on the footpath. The woman posture was markedly stooped and the fingers gripping her cane were hoary and gnarled with arthritis.

It appeared her carrier bag had split sending her groceries spilling onto the footpath.

"Och. What a nuisance. And don't think I don't see you lurking there, Sorenson. Tsk, away with you, I can manage."

Snape straightened from where he had been collecting up the spilt shopping from the path and shifted the items into the crook of his arm.

"I'm going right by yours, Margaret," said Snape evenly. "I may as well help you get this lot home."

Hermione leaned forward, straining to hear, eventually stepping into the lane a few paces to keep the pair in earshot as Margaret tutted again at Snape, but it was half-hearted, and she allowed him to stroll alongside her carrying her meagre groceries to the door.

As the woman fumbled with her house key, Hermione watched as Snape examined a can of Ravioli from amongst the old lady's shopping before making a disgusted noise.

"You don't actually plan to eat this muck? That won't do. Why don't I do a proper Sunday roast, Love? Nice leg of lamb and mint jelly? With Yorkshire pud and spuds?"

At that moment the key finally turned in the lock and the older woman started to reply,

"That's very kind, but I —" however, his chuckling cut her off.

"Now, you know you never can say no to me Miss Margaret," he said in a light, jovial tone and then bent to place the groceries just inside the doorway.

"You should be finding yourself a good, sensible girl, Sorry, instead of making all this fuss over me."

Snape straightened and with a devilish grin he winked at the elderly woman.

"But you're my best girl, Peggy." He said and stole a peck on the cheek while the older woman giggled girlishly, he then turned on his heel and strode back along the path.

"I'm back at noon with the roast." He said with a wave.

A Blackcap began to warble in the trees above, and Hermione found herself still standing agape at the exchange she just witnessed as Snape reached where she stood. He passed by without breaking that even, long-legged stride but called back over his shoulder.

"Really Miss Granger, you'll catch flies if you stand around all day with your mouth open."

Hermione blushed furiously as his laughter drifted back to her on the morning breeze.

"Horrid man" she muttered under her breath, frustrated that he still possessed the knack to get under her skin with such impunity.

o0o

The remainder of Sunday had passed without her further encountering her former teacher. Though she had found her thoughts repeatedly drifting in his direction.

"How did he really survive?"

His version was obviously clap-trap, and what on earth was going on with this cheery, likeable rogue act for the locals?

Despite the confidence in her own capabilities, Hermione had few illusions about the chances of holding her own had she actually been pitted against the more seasoned duelist. With the element of surprise on his side, he could have hexed her into next week had he chosen to. What was he hiding? Why was he hiding? Hermione didn't know, but she was growing in determination to find out.

o0o

Monday morning had rolled around, and the clock in the kitchen was chiming the half hour as Severus slipped in through the french doors. He had barely snibbed them behind him before there came three sharp raps of the door knocker at the front of the house.

He ought to have known the wretched woman would be on time to collect her prize.

"Not that it would make much difference if she had come in another hour, or a day or in a month of Sundays." He thought with bitterness.

Try as he might, he had found nothing special about the lighter. No charm lay on it, no hex either, in fact, no enchantment of any kind that he could discern. Just like every other supposed Augerite he had managed to acquire.

He had been hoping that unlike the previous items he bought, which all had purely Muggle origins and only an anecdotal basis for being considered lucky, the lighter's magical background would have allowed him to find something, anything.

"Where is that first breadcrumb?" he mused and turned the lighter over in his hand as he made his way down the corridor, tossing it unceremoniously onto the hall table as he passed.

o0o

The door swung open, and with an ill-tempered glare he stepped away into the passage, so she took the chance to move inside. Snape was a few paces further down, where the disputed lighter now sat on the hall table, looking considerably less distinguished than it had under its glass jar as part of the display.

Moving closer she picked it up and turned it over in her hand.

"Did you get what you needed?" She asked glancing up to meet his gaze.

"As is so often the case, its reputation far exceeded its worth."

"I see." She replied and slipped the lighter into her pocket. "I'm authorised to offer you compensation covering what you paid and any other expenses incurred."

"That will not be necessary, Granger. Now, if you have what you came for, I'll show you out." He said brusquely.

"Oh, yes, of course." She squared her shoulders as he moved passed her. How was it he seemed to keep her on the back foot so easily?

She stared at a point between his shoulder blades as he took the three paces back to the door which was still ajar, well aware any attempt to steer him into a deeper conversation would draw his ire but unable to walk away with so many questions left unanswered.

He held the door and with a firm hand in the small of her back guided her over the threshold and onto the stoop.

"Good-bye Miss Granger, I don't expect we shall meet again." He said as he began to close the door.

Before she could think better of it, she pushed against the closing door with her palm.

"Professor, I'm not sure if you are aware of it but after The Battle of Hogwarts when, well, when the whole story of your...war service... came out The Prince Family formally claimed you?"

The door swung open so suddenly that Hermione stumbled forward, finding herself nose to chest with Snape. As he drew himself up she was painfully aware of how tall he was and even all these years later what an imposing figure he cut as he glared down the length of his nose at her, lip curling.

"I'm aware," he said, his tone so frosty she expected his breath to steam.

"However, it is of little consequence they accepted a dead man when they never bothered with him alive."

"But…"

"But what Granger?"

"You could come home. Everyone knows the truth now and…" her voice trailed off as he erupted into a brittle laugh that sounded much more like the man she remembered than the velvety chuckling from her last visit.

He bent down, so his face was level with her own.

"You can't possibly believe that" he hissed between his teeth.

"As far as respectable Wizardkind is concerned I'm a murderer. No amount of tearful hand-wringing or heartfelt speeches will wash that taint from my name. There will always be suspicion, whispers, hatred. As for the DeathEaters, you were there Miss Granger, you saw their numbers. How many fell? More than fled? I betrayed them, betrayed the Dark Lord himself, and I have no desire to have my brains turned into soup like Frank and Alice by some lingering zealot that the Ministry failed to prove wore the mark."

Hermione opened to mouth to speak but could not find the words she wanted so instead found herself patting his sleeve as though the simple gesture might soothe him.

The long fingers of Snape's other hand circled her wrist and pushed her hand away from his arm, but when he spoke again, his tone was calmer.

"We both know I shall be gone before you can return with Aurors."

Hermione knew that was true and honestly, it was only pure luck she had stumbled upon him now, but there were riddles here that needed answers, and so for the first time in a long time she found herself speaking before thinking.

"I don't think a return visit will be needed, Mr Kerr, all the paperwork has been completed properly there should be no need for anyone else from...my firm, to get in touch with you. Thank you for your co-operation."

She extended her hand, fervently willing him to accept the handshake; still, he hesitated until she let her eyes meet his. She couldn't tell if he was looking into her mind or merely trying to gauge her intent but after several seconds passed he grasped her hand, which she supposed was all the answer she was likely to get from this infuriatingly opaque man.

"Farewell Miss Granger" was all he said before shutting the door between them.