A/N: This is my very first fic so reviews are greatly appreciated.

A big thank you to my wonderful Beta Azazello. I never realised I used so many Americanisms (which is fairly embarrassing since I’m not American!)

Constructive Criticism is, as always, welcome.



~~~~o~~~o~~~~

He showed up at her flat, carrying a bottle of wine as usual, to find it empty. Not completely empty, mind. Not empty as in devoid of her possessions – just empty of her. Her usual mixture of robes and Muggle clothes hung in the wardrobe. Food was in the refrigerator. There was no overt acknowledgement of her leaving. There was no note on the coffee table, but he knew, nonetheless. He sensed it as much as anything. He knew she wan't happy with her life; with the daily grind of the Ministry, suffering the incompetence of those who were left to govern, after so much had been lost. At least that was what she had hinted to him last time they spoke.

Even though he was an Auror, Harry still needed to report her disappearance officially, but, unsurprisingly, the bureaucrat smiled sympathetically and did nothing. Harry Potter’s hero status was intact, but the geniuses of the Ministry were, at times, wary of him ‘all those curses during the war you know – can’t be good for the mind’. But when she didn’t turn up for work any day of the following week his concerns were, reluctantly, acknowledged.

Dumbledore was gone, but Minerva stood staunchly in his place, as Headmistress of Hogwarts. Order members congregated in her office to form a plan: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Molly, Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt. They’d started the search a few days before, but had found no leads as to her disappearance. There was no trace of Hermione.

Ron was pacing up and down, a hand running repeatedly through his already unkempt hair. “Harry, are you sure there was no sign of Dark Magic? It has to be that bastard Malfoy – he always said he’d get her for killing Draco.”

“Mr Weasley - Ron - it does no good to jump to conclusions. As an experienced Auror, you of all people should know that.” The strength in Minerva’s tone was usually a steadying influence, but Ron was not easily placated, and before he could continue she spoke again. “Was Hermione seeing anyone? Could she have gone away with someone … a boyfriend or some such?” She looked questioningly around the room at those present.

A grumble was heard from the far side of the room. “She wouldn’t tell me anything about her personal life.”

“I wonder why, Ron!” Ginny spoke up from her seat next to Neville. “You were a right bastard, living with Hermione while shagging Lavender, and then Pansy Parkinson of all people. Then you dumped her; then you demanded to know her every move, and bad-mouthed every guy she so much as had a drink with. How did you think she’d treat you after that behaviour? Never mind what she went through because of the war.” She very nearly listed the rest of Ron’s crimes, but didn’t think that her mother would appreciate that much honesty – especially in front of the Headmistress.

“Thank you for enlightening us as to Mr Weasley’s liaisons, Ginevra, but that still doesn’t answer my question. I’m not trying to pry into anyone’s personal life; I’m simply trying to trace Miss Granger.” Minerva was intent on at least trying to keep things civil.

Finally another voice spoke up. “Well for what it’s worth I went out with Hermione for a while, about a year ago. I don’t think it’s relevant but thought I should…” he paused searching for the right words, “…declare my interests, as it were.”

“Thank you, Remus. I don’t for one minute think you were involved, but thank you for, as you say, declaring your interest.” Remus’ statement had raised more than one eyebrow.

“So did I. Go out with Hermione, that is. After Ron.” Harry was looking at the ground, somewhat sheepishly. “When Ron walked out Hermione was a right mess. I happened to be there. We knew we weren’t cut out for a proper relationship but we, sometimes ... over the years … you know, saw each other...when there was no one else.” His face was beet-red as his meaning, if not his words, was quite clear.

“Just say you were shagging each other, Harry, why don’t you.”

“Ronald Weasley, I will not have you use such language in front of the Headmistress - or me for that matter. We will be having words when this is over, my boy, I can promise you that!” Molly’s glare was enough to cause Ron to shudder with the promise of the dressing down to come.

Harry looked back at Minerva. “Well, we’re not any longer. She ended it permanently; said it was time she found herself a proper boyfriend. I don’t know of anyone though - at least, none that she ever told me about.”

The group digested the latest piece of information unsure if they wanted to hear what might be said next.

“She was seeing someone, but I don’t know who – she wouldn’t say.” Ginny sighed, her hand grasping more firmly onto Neville’s. “I assumed it was someone she thought we might not approve of.” Ginny’s eyes flickered around the room before resting on her brother, meaningfully. “I suppose I assumed he was married or something. I mean, what else could it have been for Hermione to keep it a secret? It’s not like she’d take up with a Death Eater, right?”

The last statement sent a ripple of unease through those assembled. Bodies shifted in chairs and Molly was heard to mutter, “Not our Hermione,” to no one in particular.

They were at a complete loss - unsure how to proceed. They planned to keep looking but, without any proof of misdeeds then, according to the Ministry, Hermione had simply left of her own accord.

The war had been six years earlier at the end of their final year at Hogwarts.

~~~~o~~~o~~~~

Snape crashed into the Headmaster’s office; his face, chest, back and legs, streaked with blood – his own blood. Burn marks ran the length of his torso and one shoulder slumped suggesting a broken collarbone. It was not necessary to ask how the injuries had been sustained. When he had not returned from being summoned three days before, Dumbledore had already assumed the worst. Snape had been discovered a few weeks previously; Voldemort and Lucius had been playing him till he’d outlived his usefulness. Regardless of how Dumbledore fussed, Snape refused to see Madam Pomfrey. Hogwarts was about to be attacked and the Death Eaters had assistance on the inside. The time had come.

Aurors and members of the Order began arriving, but the Death Eaters, black garbed and masked, circled the school as though stirring a giant cauldron, until Draco Malfoy succeeded in opening the main gates while Lucius defeated the outside wards.

The war was short and bloody. Hermione’s parents were the first casualties; Lucius planned the killing as a diversion – get the Aurors to Muggle London, and then attack Hogwarts. Snape was distraught over the attack, blaming himself for having been exposed and not being able to prevent it. If only…

~~~~o~~~o~~~~

The Order also lost many members: Dumbledore, Arthur and Bill Weasley, Hagrid, Arabella Figg and Mad-Eye Moody. Scores of students, on both sides, were slaughtered; Slytherin was decimated. The face-off between Harry and Voldemort did come, but it was only with the help of Snape that Harry actually survived to hit Voldemort with a killing curse. Snape’s protection of Harry, fending off curse after curse and cutting down those in his wake, led to the final confrontation. Hermione, Ron, Remus and Minerva were unable to do anything more than watch as Snape dived in front of an Avada Kedavra from Voldemort’s wand, destined for Harry.

To this day they are still unsure how Snape survived. It appeared that perhaps he was able to deflect the curse with his own wand, a defence similar to a Protego, but instead of the curse dissipating it rebounded on Voldemort, weakening him sufficiently for Harry to administer a final killing curse. Whatever happened, Voldemort was dead, Harry was alive and a hero. Snape slunk back into the shadows.

They had all been traumatised. Whilst the side of the light won the war, the losses were heavy and no one was left untouched. Dumbledore’s loss was felt particularly keenly. Snape and Harry had been nearby when he was struck, but, being in the middle of battle, were unable to assist him. Mutterings about who was at fault were heard in the days following; blame, of course, was readily laid, but Minerva put a stop to all the talk. Hogwarts would eventually be put to rights, but the scars of war would be felt for years.

Hermione and Snape both remained in the infirmary for several months; Snape’s body finally giving in to years of unremitting ill-treatment. Hermione was recovering from a nearly fatal attack from Lucius Malfoy. The distraction of Potter versus Riddle allowed him to penetrate her guard. But, even with Hermione in a coma, and Dumbledore dead, the post war high went on. The Daily Prophet touted both Ron and Harry as the heroes of the Wizarding World in the Post-Voldemort Celebration Issue - and each day for the following several weeks. After years as ‘Harry Potter’s best friend’, it was recognition beyond Ron’s wildest dreams. While Harry and others had witches and wizards at their feet, Ron was one of the few to indulge in the offerings.

Ron was a somewhat reluctant visitor to the infirmary. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Hermione (he assured himself) just that seeing her like that upset him – it wasn’t really his Hermione, after all. Strangely, to those who did have occasion to drop into the private ward, it was Snape who, once he was sufficiently recovered from his own injuries, sat by Hermione’s bed and read to her. He could be found, on any day, determinedly making his way through the collected works of 18th and 19th century Muggle female-authored fiction (somehow he felt certain Hermione would appreciate it). He, of course, claimed it was for his own benefit, so as not to be driven to distraction by the prattle of Pomfrey and her assistants - and no one dared contradict him. It was too amusing for all concerned, hearing Severus Snape reading from angsty novels – there was a first time for everything after all.

Then, one day, not long after Hermione woke up, he simply disappeared from the infirmary. He had not been seen by anyone, including the Headmistress, since that time.

Hermione eventually recovered sufficiently to return home. She never knew about the groupies Ron bedded; she only learned of his infidelities when he began sleeping with her friends. It was a further year after that before they finally split up. Ron was the one who ended it – Hermione couldn’t. With her parents gone the Weasley’s were the only relatives Hermione had left, and leaving the warmth of the Weasley clan the most painful thing that could happen to her.

Harry had been comfort; a shoulder to cry on. A hug led to a tentative kiss – then more. He was passionate, fun and loving, and while they weren’t soul mates, their relationship, however temporary, was something they both needed. She and Harry really did care for each other - after all.

Then there was Remus. Remus was a schoolgirl crush come to life; but sometimes childhood fantasies should just stay that. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy his company; the first few evenings out were fun and the sex was pleasant, but that was about it – pleasant. Hermione knew she couldn’t tolerate another lukewarm relationship. They stayed friends vowing not to let their friendship suffer.

~~~~0~~~0~~~~

About a year after Hermione’s disappearance, the Order members were once again called into the Headmistress’s office. Remus was there pacing back and forth, much as Ron had previously. He took the photographs from Minerva. “Well, it looks like our mystery has been solved. Though I can’t say I’m too happy about it. Did any of you know anything about this?”

“No, nothing whatsoever,” came various replies.

“I haven’t heard from Hermione since before she left. Absolutely not a peep!” Ginny was almost indignant.

“Well, what is it, Remus, what has she done now?” Ron’s voice could now be heard as he craned his neck to look at the pictures.

Minerva finally spoke. “I had some acquaintances of mine do a bit of research. Sometimes working outside of the Ministry guidelines obtains better results.” She looked at the pictures in Remus’ hand. “It should have been obvious I suppose, if one had been looking.”

The camera had caught Hermione, on a beautiful sunny day, ocean waves lapping at her feet, wearing nothing more than a tiny Muggle bikini and a smile. She looked tanned and relaxed - as happy, Harry thought, as he’d ever seen her. Her hair, still unruly, was pulled up into a loose knot, and her previously too-thin frame had filled out. She looked gorgeous.

What surprised everyone in the room was the man who cradled her in his arm.

Severus Snape.

He was probably an even greater surprise than Hermione. Wearing loose taupe coloured Muggle trousers and a white shirt, unbuttoned half way to the waist, he no more resembled the fierce Potions Master than, well, Sybill Trelawney! His hair was still long but pulled back. His formerly sallow skin now held the same tanned glow Hermione sported.

The two quintessential bookworms – who would have thought?

Ron was elbowing everyone out of the way by now to see the moving images. Hermione and Snape embracing and laughing; Hermione and Snape walking hand in hand along the beach; Hermione and Snape, arms wrapped around each other, lost in the passion of a deep kiss. “Uugh, how could she? Snape, of all people. He must have her under some sort of spell, or love potion, or something! Hermione wouldn’t just up and leave us for him. No way!” Ron had now built quite a head of steam, his face nearly matching his hair, and there was no sign of him slowing down. “Doesn’t she know, doesn’t she realise that it’s his fault that Dumbledore died – I mean, everyone knows that! He should be in Azkaban as a damned traitor. He probably planned the murder of her parents...”

“That is ENOUGH, Ronald. You take back all those comments about Professor Snape! He saved poor Harry’s life - nearly killing himself in the process. You have no right to judge what occurred when Albus died; were you there? Were you putting yourself in the way of killing curses? And after the way you treated dear Hermione! I’m ashamed to be called your mother.” Molly had hands on hips and was delivering a famous Mrs Weasley Howler, except in person. And it was much more terrifying.

Harry picked through the pile of images, and Remus pulled out the last photo and threw it on top of the others on the desk. "Even Snape couldn’t concoct a love potion that strong.”

Ron gasped. Minerva and Molly looked away. Harry shook his head and laughed.

It was one photo that should never have been taken. It depicted a naked Hermione, in bed, throwing her head back in ecstasy before mouthing words which closely resembled ‘I love you’ to an equally naked and equally ecstatic Severus Snape below her.

“She’s in love. And if I’m not mistaken so is he.”