He hated this place. It was the only restaurant on the corner, or hell, within walking distance of his house. Sure, there were seedy bars with their typical pub fare on every corner of his dreary end of Manchester, but this was the only restaurant.

He hated the Formica tabletops and the vinyl seat covers. He hated the chipped coffee cups and the waitresses' dingy uniforms.

He hated that this was the only restaurant he’d ever been to prior to graduating Hogwarts. Family dinners were nothing special, nothing he wanted to remember.

He hated that Granger, without knowing it, had a slight advantage on him by bringing him here.

He’d done everything in preparing for her entrance to ensure he would quickly regain the upper hand. He’d arrived an hour early to make sure he was there before her. He’d chosen his clothing carefully to ensure he looked his best.

He regretted his decision to cut his hair. It had become scraggly in the year since his pardon, and he’d been rather overzealous with his wand. Parted on the left, the back only just touched his collar. The front kept slipping in front his eyes, and he had to stop himself from pushing his hair out of his face. He’d spent several moments throughout the day staring at the grey streaking his hair, all the more visible now that he couldn’t tie his hair back.

He hated that he couldn’t read these days without a pair of silver-framed glasses perched on his nose. They reminded him of Dumbledore far too much for comfort. Why did he not choose a different colored frame, you may ask? Because they reminded him daily of what he’d done to Dumbledore and why he needed to help Draco now.

He hated that the ridiculous perfume he’d concocted to pay the rent had just wafted towards him from the doorway… and that it had taken that for him to even notice her entrance. He was slipping if he’d missed her walking up the sidewalk in front of the glass windows at the head of the shop from his vantage point at the opposite end of the restaurant.

There was Granger, yet again looking for all the world a young professional. Today, she wore a smart, navy blue suit, again with a pencil skirt. Her hair was down, the front pulled back from her face with a clip. That plastic clip was the only part of her ensemble that detracted from her adult appearance. He almost pitied her, remembering what it was like to enter Hogwarts as a professor having just left as a student. Most of his Hogwarts persona had been born of incredible insecurity about teaching his former peers, so he definitely understood hiding behind a wall of clothing, so to speak.

After a few hushed words to the hostess, Granger looked up, smiled at him, and made her way across the restaurant, her damnable heels clicking the entire way.

She extended her hand to him as she stood next to the table. “Thank you for meeting me at such short notice, Master Snape.” As he clasped her hand, he watched her take inventory of his appearance: the untucked button-down shirt, the slim fitting jeans (something he had very much missed from his childhood and the one thing he did not regret from his reintegration into Muggle society), the square-toed black shoes. She quickly averted her eyes, almost as if she had just realized what she was doing.

It gave him the edge he needed.

“I highly doubt you invited me here to assess my person, Miss Granger. Perhaps you better sit down and begin your inquisition.”

She flushed the deep puce that Draco had mentioned the day before, and he smirked. She clumsily dropped her briefcase on the chair next to her and began rifling through its contents. Upon finding a large packet of papers, she sat in the chair opposite him.

“Since you’re not going to treat me with any respect, sir, I guess we better dispense with pleasantries and just begin.” He tried to cut her off, but she continued. “First, why did you take Mr. Malfoy into your home? Is there a familial relationship that I am not aware of?”

“I know that you are in fact aware that Draco is my godson, given he told you that during his interview in your office. Other than that? Let’s just say that I feel a certain… responsibility towards the boy.”

“Because of Dumbledore?” she blurted out with all the grace of an elephant.

“For fuck’s sake, Granger, you sure don’t pull your punches, do you?” he said, grimacing. “Because of Dumbledore, I suppose, and how was it Skeeter put it…? His ‘unfortunate parentage.’ Sounds a bit like the verbiage used to describe Muggle-borns, doesn’t it?”

“The Ministry and ARDEC does not condone the statement put out by Ms. Skeeter,” Hermione all but spat in response. “Back to Malfoy. Why did you insist he… go native?”

“When was the last time you saw someone walking down the street in serpent-embroidered dress robes, Granger? That might go over in London, but up here, he wouldn’t last more than a day in that get-up. We like our privacy, and I did everything to ensure he would blend in. Last thing I needed was a constable lurking around the house to see what a pair of mismatched poofters were getting up to.”

“Oh? I’m sorry, sir, I never knew you were gay… Draco too?”

The fork he’d been fiddling with clanged against the Formica. “That’s not at all what I meant, and I think you knew that.” She definitely knew that, judging from the grin on her face. Cheeky bint. “But, as a Muggle, what would you think about two men living together, one of which dresses in embroidered robes? I didn’t need the gossip. There’s been enough about me my entire life.”

The waitress finally acknowledged them. “’lo, Sev. Same as usual?”

“Please.”

“And for your lovely lady?”

Snape growled. “She’s not my lovely lady! And she’ll have the same.”

She opened her mouth, gaping like a fish. He glared her into acquiescence.

The waitress walked away, a look of mock annoyance on her face.

Hermione immediately began harping. “I’ll have you know I am fully capable of ordering for myself, Master Snape.”

“Oh give over, Granger, I’m well aware of that. I’ve been coming to this restaurant for nearly forty years, and I’ve had every single thing on the menu. Trust me, what I’ve ordered is in actuality the only palatable menu item. I was merely saving your stomach from unnecessary distress.”

“And why would you care about my possible distress?”

“Because, if you decide to give Draco the news of his passing grade in person tonight, I’d hate to have the carpets cleaned when you become ill.”

Granger turned a surprisingly vivid shade of chartreuse at his words. The waitress came back, plunking a pitcher of stout and two glasses on the table, before turning on her heel and leaving them alone once again.

Before Snape could continue his gentlemanly behavior, she grabbed the pitcher and poured each of them a glass. After taking a sip, she continued.

“And how genuine, would you say, are his feelings of goodwill towards Muggles at this time?”

Snape nearly spit out his beer. “Genuine? Miss Granger, surely you do not think Draco is a Muggle lover. He understands the necessity of learning certain… behaviors. But he’ll never see the benefit of doing things the Muggle way over doing them magically.”

“Well, honestly, we don’t wish for him to become Muggle. We just want to know that he doesn’t… well… hate them… racially…” Her statement wandered off almost like a question, almost as if she hated herself for saying it so poorly.

“If you’re asking if he would knowingly harm a Muggle, Miss Granger, no, he wouldn’t. And before you ask me if it’s because he’s changed so much… It’s more a fact that he realizes that his family has been completely scarred by the actions of his father, and he does not wish to bring more shame to them. He won’t be hurting anyone anymore. Muggles are just lucky to be a part of a bigger life decision.”

Granger started looking irritated, and Snape immediately realized his error.

“So what you’re saying, Snape, is that Draco is merely integrating and living amongst Muggles to help increase his status amongst purebloods? Bring glory and honor back to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by being an upright citizen?”

Snape searched for words, desperately trying to keep from losing control of the situation.

“Regardless of the motivations, you surely can see that this is a positive step for Draco.”

“What I surely see is Slytherin tactics being used to try to circumvent the law!”

“Here you go, two Specials!”

Granger glared at him unblinkingly as the waitress placed two steaming plates on the table.

“Can I get you two anything else?”

“NO!” they barked at her.

Smiling yet again as if she fully expected this sort of behavior out of Snape, the waitress left to tend to her other customers.

“Miss Granger—”

“Stuff it, Snape. This interview is over.”

Quickly grabbing up all her papers, she crammed them in her bag, blew a stray tendril of hair out of her face, and stormed from the restaurant.

God, he hated this place…

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Thanks once again to the lovely clairvoyant for keeping me going on this one! Prompt from kerravonsen for the help_chile community on LJ.