Author's Note:This fanfic is based upon the little known, but breathtakingly beautiful, waltz sung by Frank Sinatra: I'm Not Afraid. Please take the time to give this song a listen before, during, or after reading the story. I'm sure the Voice and music will enrich your appreciation for this and, hey, who can say no to Ol' Blue Eyes? Happy reading!


One afternoon, I came to hear
You sing a soft song into my ear
Who would have thought, quite by chance,
We might engage in a loving dance?



Severus Snape came to an abrupt halt at the familiar sound of her voice. She was arguing with the owner of the book shop over a text. Even from where he stood, in a remote corner perusing questionable titles, her voice carried. A voice from his past.


Had it really been twelve years?


"What do you mean, it's out of print?" she was demanding. "One of the most important volumes of wizarding history, and you tell me it's out of print? Rubbish!"


Professor Snape emerged from his corner, putting down the book he'd been flipping through. He could see the back of her from where he stood as she faced the harried shopkeeper. She still had the same frizzy brown hair but she wore it shorter now. Over her sensible knee-length robes a black trench coat was belted and...was that a fedora on her head? Of all the ridiculous...


Suddenly, as if she had sensed his presence behind her, she turned, and her warm brown eyes regarded him through rather large glasses. Her mouth dropped as she saw him. Her book forgotten, she stared at him in astonishment as he came towards her.


Snape cocked an eyebrow. "It's not often one sees the Gryffindor know-it-all at a loss for words," he quipped.


And then, her face inexplicably broke into a huge grin. It was like the sun bursting forth after a black thunderhead. "Professor Snape!" she cried, her eyes dancing happily.


It was Snape's turn to be astonished as she rushed over to him. She stopped just shy of knocking him down and for one horrified moment he thought she was going to hug him. As she realized her mistake, she stepped back a bit and looked chagrined, then thrust out her hand. He looked down at it as if he didn't quite know what do do with it. Her smile dropped just a little.


"Well, sir," she said. "Will you not shake hands with me? I never thought...that is, it's so unexpected, running into you after all these years!"


Some of Snape's astonishment fell from him. He took her hand and gave it a curt shake before dropping it quickly. "Yes, quite, Miss Granger," he replied.


"Are you well?" she asked.


Snape's mouth twitched. Was he well? His hand instinctively went to the collar of his black robes. Some things never change. He rubbed the scars there that barely gave him any problems anymore. Still there were the other things...


"Yes," he heard himself replying. "Yes, Miss Granger, I'm quite well." He cleared his throat and took a step back away from her. "Thank you for inquiring. Please give my regards to Potter..."


Hermione frowned. "You can't mean to go. But we've only just run into each other!" she cried, closing the gap between them. "You must come up to my place. For dinner."


Dinner? Dinner with her and her ginger husband and quite possibly her pascal of ginger brats? No, thank you.


She sensed his pulling away. "We have so much to talk about," she said seriously. "So many things I want to ask you...please come. It would be nice." Again, she sensed his hesitation. "It would only be the two of us, if that makes a difference. You see, I'm divorced..."