A/N - Thank you to the lovely people who have reviewed/ followed this story. This weekend, I've spent a lot of time mapping out the twists and angst that will be coming up in future chapters - stay tuned!

June 11th, 1998

With his trunk of belongings sent to one of the vacant staff suites, Severus set off for the hospital wing alongside Minerva in silence, both too lost in their own thoughts for conversation. After their frank discussion in the dungeons, an understanding and camaraderie had settled between the two of them. They were used to dealing with crises together – particularly since Harry Potter's arrival at Hogwarts – and a brisk, tense walk like this one was familiar to them both.

Without hesitation, they each pushed open one of the double doors to the wing and strode in side by side. Minerva walked towards the Matron's office in the corner of the room and rapped on the door, repeating the action when she got no reply. A moment later, a bleary eyed, slightly dishevelled Madam Pomfrey yanked the door open, stumbling into the ward beyond whilst squinting at the old clock on the wall.

"I'm so sorry Minerva, I'd just made a cup of tea and closed my eyes for a moment…!"

"Nonsense Poppy, you need a full night's sleep in a proper bed! We were just coming to check on Miss Granger, perhaps I could sit with her whilst you get some rest?"

"Thank you, that's most kind." The matron began, looking the headmistress up and down slowly, "But I think you're in greater need than I am at the moment!"

Minerva reached out and patted her arm gently, about to respond when suddenly Severus' deep voice cut across her.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt the sentimentality ladies, but at present it seems there isn't a patient here to keep either of you from your beauty sleep."

Both women looked to where he had thrown the curtains open wide around the bed that had previously held Hermione's sleeping form. Once they had seen the neatly made, vacant bed, Severus pulled back the top covers and placed his hand upon the mattress below.

"It's still a little warm, she hasn't been gone long. Poppy, when did you last check on her?"

Poppy's face had already drained of colour, and at Severus' words looked almost ready to cry.

"I… I… I was going to check on her every two hours, but she was fast asleep! A-a-and she looked so peaceful, like she wasn't thinking about… it… at all. I didn't want to wake her! I looked in around an hour or so ago I think, Severus."

She ran a tired hand over her face, which Minerva pulled away and grasped in her own.

"She's an adult Poppy, and you weren't on guard duty." She said gently, before glancing across towards Snape's impassive face.

"She's right of course, Poppy. This is a young woman capable of far more than sneaking out of bed undetected. The question of course, is why she left and where she went. That said, I'm assuming she requires no further medical assistance?"

"No, just rest." Came the quiet reply.

"Well then, it seems all our roles in this saga have come to an end. I have no wish to further involve myself in teenage love triangles, and Miss Granger is no longer in any immediate danger. I believe I have some unpacking to do. Good night to you both."

His move to get to the door was immediately blocked by Minerva, who glared at him with nostrils flaring.

"You're not bloody serious? She's upset, Severus!"

"Yes, we've just finished a war, Minerva, we're all upset."

"But she shouldn't be alone! She needs our support!"

"Well by all means fetch her dunderhead friends and a packet of tissues. Perhaps a copy of Witch Weekly? I hear they have a popular advice column. Once again, unless you have any official duties for me, Headmistress, I will retire to my rooms."

The grey-haired woman bristled at his words and took a few steps towards him, pointing a finger in his face.

"Yes, Professor Snape, I charge you with tracking down our student. Quick as you can please." She turned to the matron before continuing.

"Poppy dear, send word if she turns up of her own accord, won't you? Until then – go and get some proper sleep."

Before waiting for a response from either of them, Minerva turned on her heal and marched from the room without so much as a backwards glance. She had barely got ten paces down the corridor before she was almost bowled over, by the very three students she had been on her way to find.

"Ah Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley, I'm so very glad to run into you. Have you seen or heard from Miss Granger in the past few hours?"

Three confused faces looked back at her as they all began to speak at once.

"Why, where is she?"

"That's why we're here, Professor."

"Is she alright, Professor?"

The headmistress raised her hands and they stopped at once.

"How much do you already understand of Miss Granger's…. ailments?"

This time her question was met with an awkward silence; Harry scratched the back of his neck as a pink tinge bloomed across his cheeks and Ron stared at his shoes glumly. Ginny defiantly stuck out her chin and met the professor's eye.

"Mum has already told us everything. Where is she, Professor? She needs us, she needs her friends."

"I could not agree more, Miss Weasley. However, it seems that Miss Granger has other ideas. She left the hospital wing sometime in the past hour or so. She requires no further medical attention but I'm sure you will share my concerns that she might be particularly fragile. Do any of you have any ideas where she could be?"

Harry's face lit up as he exclaimed "No, but I've got the Marauder's Map! It's in my rucksack, I'll fetch it!"

Ron looked up, nodding enthusiastically; "Yes Harry, brilliant!"

Ginny laced her fingers through Harry's and stopped as he started to turn away. Her voice was soft as she voiced her thoughts.

"She won't be in Hogwarts. If she's left the hospital wing, she's avoiding us. She knows we'd find her here. She's gone, properly gone. She's the cleverest person I've ever met; if she doesn't want us to find her, we won't."

Minerva surveyed the young people before her in various states of distress.

"Thank you for your glaring optimism, Miss Weasley. Gentlemen, perhaps you can retrace your hiding places from this past year, and take Miss Weasley here along to assist? Now if you'll excuse me, I need to turn my attention to the school before these old walls fall down!"

Severus hesitated in the hospital wing's doorway, listening to Minerva mollycoddle her three former students in disbelief. Those boys were the only ones in this castle to know the girl properly and they barely had a brain cell between them. Granger could second guess them in her sleep.

He couldn't believe Minerva had dumped this ridiculous task on him whilst she cleared off to look at redecorating. Plus, he couldn't blame the girl for getting away in the slightest; the wizarding world wouldn't treat her with kindness once her actions were widely known. Even after decades of debate, St Mungo's didn't offer what she'd chosen to do elsewhere and even her status as a war hero wouldn't stop the prejudice she'd now face.

Still, it wasn't so long ago he feared he wouldn't have a job; he couldn't very well refuse a direct order already. He'd have to comply, even though he had been tasked to drag her away from obscurity into a world of duplicitous whispers and snide comments. He could relate.

Suddenly a wave of inspiration struck him. He could relate. When the world hated him and he wanted to hide away from everyone who knew him, from everyone who knew his darkness, his mistakes; where did he go?

As soon as he was certain the corridor was clear, he swept out towards the headmaster's study with renewed purpose. Minutes later he stood in his now former office and pointed his wand towards a large cabinet. He took no time for sentimentality and downright refused to look in the direction of any of the portraits. As a piece of paper zoomed towards him, he caught it easily, scanning the words on its surface. He tucked it away inside his robes and stalked out without a second glance.

Harry watched McGonagall leave with her green robes billowing in her wake. He felt his stomach drop as he realised with a jolt that he could only really name a handful of locations they had visited whilst on the run. It was Hermione who often took the lead when apparating and it wasn't like he asked for co-ordinates when they'd arrived.

He tugged on Ginny's hand, pulling her under his arm and closing his eyes as he buried his face in her soft, red hair. The guilt was eating away at him; his best friend had been suffering horrendously and he hadn't even noticed. He'd been too busy revelling in their victory, in his renewed relationship with Ginny.

He knew without hesitation that Ginny was right – Hermione was intelligent, but also stubborn; they didn't have a hope in outwitting her. As he felt Ginny clutch him tighter, he felt a surge of affection and wondered if perhaps they needed a different approach. He stepped away from her and addressed the two freckled faces.

"Do either of you still have your D.A coin?"

Thirty minutes later, the three of them were huddled in a corner of a disused classroom, bickering.

"We can't fit much on here, it's got to be short and to the point!" Ginny said, exasperated.

"What about 'Just come back'?" Harry said hopefully.

"How about we don't try and give her a command? Bit forceful isn't it?" Ginny replied

"What about 'We're sorry'?" Harry suggested

Ginny looked at him in disbelief, asking "Well what are you sorry for?"

"It's just what you say, isn't it? Just makes stuff better! Oi Ron, don't look at me like that – don't hear you sharing your wisdom!" Harry shrugged.

Ginny turned to her brother with a sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue, but she let the words go as she saw the thoughtful, sad expression on his face. She caught his eye and gave an encouraging smile instead.

"Go on, Ron. What do you think we should put?"

Hermione slid down the wall onto the dusty floor, clutching the ruined bookmark as though it would give some comfort. Through the darkness of the unlit room, she regarded the old coin where it lay, slowly scorching the carpet her mother had so meticulously vacuumed every day of her childhood. She cast a quick charm to return its temperature to normal and continued to stare from several feet away. With the same caution she'd offer a dangerous creature, she levitated the coin to the very edge of the room, placing it beside the skirting board. Not now, she told herself, now she needed to eat before she fainted.

She shuffled to her feet and into the kitchen. Without much hope, she opened each cupboard and was unsurprised when the bright moonlight showed them all to be empty. Wendall and Monica Wilkins were not the type of people to leave behind mess once they'd sold their house. She sighed and had clenched both hands into fists in frustration when a noise in the garden made her freeze.

Without hesitation she dropped to a crouch, backing frantically against the cupboard under the sink, hoping she would be hidden from the window. She realised her beaded bag was in the other room, and that she'd have to pass in front of the glass sliding doors to retrieve it or summon it. She didn't want to leave it behind, it had too many valuable things inside.

She lay flat on the kitchen floor on her tummy and tried to ignore the adrenaline coursing through her veins and making her heart pound, praying the noise was just an animal, or even the wind. Her prayers, however, were cut short when she heard the patio doors slowly slide open. It was a person, a magical person too, to get through her wards. There was no wand light either, so the intruder was trying to be stealthy and gain the element of surprise.

With that realisation, Hermione decided they were not friendly and shot several stunning and disarming spells in their direction, scrambling to her feet as she did so. She noticed each spell was blocked, so she fired a dozen more; her arm moving so fast it became a blur. Jets of light streaked through the house as spell after spell failed to meet their targets.

Suddenly, through the roar of blood pumping in her ears she heard her name in a familiar, yet angry voice.

"GRANGER! For fuck's sake, lower your wand!"

She'd never heard her former professor lose his cool and swear before, and that shock registered more strongly than her own name did. She did not move to lower her wand but did feel her jaw drop slightly as he finally illuminated the room. Severus Snape was the last person she expected to see.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione was surprised by how steady her voice seemed, the one-sided duel almost instantly brushed aside.

"Oh I thought I'd drop by for a cup of tea" came his sarcastic reply.

He stepped into the doorway of the kitchen and saw his familiar sneer for the first time. She lowered her wand instantly, suddenly embarrassed of her actions. He tutted and raised an eyebrow as he regarded her.

"So easily convinced, Miss Granger? No attempt to confirm my identity! And I expected so much more of you. Your defence teachers must have been wholly inadequate."

She stared back in mute disbelief. Surely the man was correct. The real Severus Snape wouldn't make a joke, and a self-deprecating one at that, surely! She hesitantly raised her wand once more.

"You haven't tried to identify me either, Professor"

"Touché – during Potter's first quidditch match, and his broom was cursed, what did you do to try and assist him?"

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm and brought her left hand to her mouth in surprise.

"How did you know that was me?" She exclaimed in horror while Severus smirked at her reaction.

"It is of no consequence how I know, Miss Granger. However, I think that knowledge confirms that I am who I appear to be, correct?"

"Are you alone?"

"I am."

"Why are you here?"

His eyes narrowed. Her tone was back to being sharp and business like. She was much harsher than he remembered.

"Why did you leave Hogwarts?" he asked, ensuring he sounded curious and not accusing.

"I asked first, Professor." She replied.

Severus realised a stalemate when he saw one. This was going nowhere fast, which was unfortunate. The whiskey with Minerva, although feeling like a lifetime ago, was now making him very tired. He was very much looking forward to sleeping in his new bed and wanted to be there as soon as possible. Although he was much more practiced in intimidation, he realised he needed a softer approach.

"Perhaps we could discuss further over the aforementioned cup of tea?"

She stared back at him although he was an alien species, not responding for some time. When she'd finally chosen her reply, Severus felt occlumency coming off her in waves, although he hadn't once tried to use legillimency on her.

"There's nothing here, I'm afraid. No kettle, no teabags. Nothing. Some other time perhaps."

Severus hadn't properly assessed the house, preoccupied on blocking her offensive spells as he entered. He took the opportunity to peer into the empty kitchen before turning his back on Hermione and viewing the rest of the vacant lower level of the property.

"Where are…" He began before being immediately cut off.

"Why are you here?" Hermione stowed away her wand so she could cross her arms.

Severus was taken aback. He was expecting tears and vulnerability, not hexes and this… well, feistiness.

"You are aware, Miss Granger, that there are several dozen people who are concerned for your welfare?"

"I didn't realise you were one of them." She replied with a raised brow.

"Quite. Professor McGonagall, however, is. I am here at her behest to persuade you to come back with me to the castle. It is her belief that you require a robust support network given your recent… well given recent events."

"I'm fine, thank you. You can tell Professor McGonagall that I'm in perfect health, both physical and mental. And I don't require Hogwarts to put a roof over my head, I've come home, you see."

"How strange, the Headmistress was quite sure you would want to return to complete your NEWTS."

Hermione's jaw clenched and nostrils flared, despite the calm tone she used. She'd be terrible at poker, Severus thought to himself.

"I'm sorry to disappoint her. I have other ideas, I'm afraid."

"And your next goal in life is to live here? Without a lick of furniture to sit on or so much as a teabag in your cupboards? Well I must advise your friends of this development, I'm sure they'd be more than willing to help assemble some flat packs for you."

He watched her blink several times without responding. They both knew she didn't want anyone knowing where she was. She was deciding whether to try and buy his silence or make a run for it again. She appraised him for a few more seconds before he spoke again.

"Look, just stop being so bloody prickly! I couldn't give two shits what trouble you've just gotten yourself into, or out of, for that matter. You're an adult now, live where you want, do what you want. I really don't care.

But we both know that if I go back too soon and without you in tow, you'll have half the bleeding hearts of the Order banging your door down trying to drag you back. So why don't you just kill a couple of hours with me and then we'll both be able to crack on with our lives, hmmm?"

She finally relaxed her stance at his words. Leaning on the worktop and looking out of the window, she let her shoulder sag and exhaled deeply.

"Fine, but I really don't have anything in. I wasn't expecting to host a tea party." She snapped before turning to him. She regretted her tone instantly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean… It's just been a long day. I was going out to get supplies actually; there's a Co-Op down the road – that's a little convenience store. Stay here if you like, I'll be back in a few."

Severus let the slight dig wash over him without further thought but smirked at her suggestion.

"Ahh yes, you'd hurry straight back, would you? Definitely wouldn't desert your old professor under the guise of fetching him some custard cremes? Pull the other one, Granger. I wasn't born yesterday. Come on, I'll accompany you. Get your coat."

She rolled at eyes, not expecting him to fall for ploy but annoyed all the same.

"Fine, come on then."

She stomped past him, stooping to snatch her beaded bag from where it lay on the floor. He noticed her cast a furtive glance at something shiny on the floor. He was trying to get a closer look before she moved suddenly and blocked his view.

"We may as well use the front door if we're going to walk. I don't know if there's anywhere close by that we can apparate to."

"After you, Miss Granger".

It was a ten-minute walk to the convenience shop. Hermione had many fond memories of taking this stroll with her father to fetch the morning papers. She'd never completed the journey in silence before though, and suddenly ten minutes seemed to last a life time.

She was hurrying to keep up with him, his legs being so much longer than her own took one step for every two or three of her own. However, with every passing minute, her annoyance was fading. She'd never have come shopping on her own, and she was practically salivating at the thought of food.

The deep voice of the man beside her suddenly caught her attention, breaking their silence.

"Miss Granger, is that the shop you're leading me to?"

She looked up and followed his gaze further down the street. Even from this distance she could see the red sign in the window stating, "Closed for Refurbishment". She stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry in front of him. He didn't need to witness her unpredictable hormones turning her into a weeping mess. Just as she determined her eyes would remain dry, her stomach gurgled noisily. She opened her eyes and awaited an acerbic comment from the man before her.

Severus, for his part had been about to enquire where the next shop would be located when he turned to face her. She had stopped several paces behind him and looked utterly defeated. All her bravado had drained away; she suddenly looked very small and the bags under her eyes looked prominent in the glow of the streetlights. She had the air of someone who could not catch a break.

He thought about her sad, empty house with no furniture or food, or friends either. The memory of her lying on the floor of the hospital wing, clammy and shivering came unbidden to his mind. As she stood with her eyes closed for a couple of seconds, he was suddenly accosted by the memory of a former colleague announcing her pregnancy to the rest of the teaching staff. He had watched as colleague after colleague had hugged and congratulated her. It was a stark contrast to the situation before him.

He was not accustomed to feeling pity, and yet it was rolling over him in waves. As she opened her large brown eyes and looked up at him, he fought the urge to fold her into his arms and soothe whatever nightmare she'd faced.

"Where the fuck had that come from?" he thought to himself.

He cleared his throat and looked around the street. He caught her elbow and steered her across the road into an alleyway without speaking a word. She recognised his intent immediately and followed without complaint, automatically putting her hand onto his arm so he could apparate them both.

With a crack, they both disappeared.