Disclaimer: purely for your entertainment. Warning: character death, SS/HG.

The Kiss

By Elena George

Chapter 1 - Endings and Beginnings

The final battle was over. Voldemort lay dead along with one-third of his followers and The-Boy-Who-Lived---No-More. Harry Potter had given his life to protect the Wizarding World in Britain and his dearest friends in the entire world. Left alive but wounded were Hermione and Ron. Three-quarters of the Order of the Phoenix were alive and well. Also left standing was one Severus Snape, formerly the Potions Master and Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was problematic to say the least. For much of the rest of the year after Albus Dumbledore was struck down by Snape, it was believed that he, Snape, was still an active Death-Eater.

However, it was near the start of the new year when evidence of the remaining horcruxes' locations began appearing – unmistakably the work of Snape. The final victory of the dark forces of Voldemort was in good measure a direct result of Snape's activities on behalf of the Order. After the battle Snape had swiftly apparated away and went deeper into hiding than ever before. His disappearance left the Order wondering whose side Snape had been on or was still on. Needing to prove its worth, the Ministry of Magic merely assumed that Snape had been and continued to be an active Death-Eater and paid little to no attention to the testimony of Minerva McGonagall or to any other Order member. Snape was beyond redemption in the eyes of many in the Wizarding World. Warrants for his arrest was put out as well as on all known-to-have-survived Death-Eaters. The Ministry had no room for anything even vaguely dark arts related.

Ron had never liked Snape, but he was profoundly uneasy about the cavalier spirit in which the Ministry had pronounced guilt by association upon Snape's head and in absentia, no less. If captured, Snape was to receive the kiss of the dementor at Azkaban. Ron's sense of justice was intensely offended. He knew that this was no better than what Voldemort would have done had their positions been reversed. It most certainly was not what he had risked his life for.

Hermione had generally looked up to Snape even when he was at his harshest toward her. She was never sure of his fairness, but she was sure that he was loyal to Dumbledore and the Order, largely because Dumbledore had said so. She reconciled Dumbledore's death as having been on his own orders to Snape to save Snape from death by unbreakable vow. That was after all what Dumbledore's pensieve had told them, which the Ministry had refused to recognise. Plus, it did not matter to her that Harry hated Snape nearly as much as Voldemort. Harry was not always right when it came to people, especially when it came to Snape. In fact, he had always been wrong about Snape! Hermione knew deep within her that Snape was not really a Death-Eater. Thus Ron and Hermione remained in a quandary as to why Snape had not remained after the battle to assert his loyalties to the Order, of which all the Weasleys and Hermione were reasonably sure.

Instead, Snape had apparated away to the cave that had once held the Slytherin locket horcrux. Dumbledore had told him of the location in the event he and Harry did not return with the locket that fateful night. While he despised the inferi, he knew no one would come here to look for him. He would just have to maintain spirited fires to keep them where they belonged and away from him. Without Wormtail's knowledge, he had prepositioned supplies that he would need for sustenance and for potions making. He planned to remain sheltered there for a few months, and then he'd ease a disguised self back into his world. The cave was hardly a holiday spot, but it was not nearly as uncomfortable as he'd imagined. The temperature, humidity, and general décor were not unlike the dungeons at Hogwarts. What he missed most was his library; however, he could not be tempted to remove to either Spinner's End or the castle for more books. No, he doggedly stayed put for the three months he had planned.

At the end of his self-imposed exile, he took the polyjuice potion, transformed into the image of a Muggle whose hair he had acquired on one revel night. The Muggle was average in most ways; unlike Severus Snape's distinctive appearance, this Muggle surely would not stand out on any street in Britain. He made his way to the street in front of Diagon Alley to see what had transpired since the final battle. He stood near the entrance to the Leaky Caldron tuning his ears to the conversations within. Since most of the sound was muffled and distorted, he decided to slip inside and have a drink and listen some more. After listening for half an hour, Snape decided to leave for the continent until things cooled off considerably more. He was still very much a wanted man, and likely would be for the remainder of his days. That determined, he put Wizarding coins onto the bar and quietly strolled out into Muggle London.

Five Years Later

Snape had purchased a new wand in Madrid, as his customary ebony wand was much too recognizable and traceable. His new one was dark oak with a unicorn hair centre. When he had left Spain, he had supplied himself with copious polyjuice potion – enough for at least fifteen months or so. Some of the ingredients for polyjuice potion remained restricted in Britain as there were still Death-Eaters running loose. Snape rented a flat under the name of Simon Blount. He was near Diagon Alley and could brew quietly, supplying a few off-the-books apothecaries whatever they requested. It was sufficient income to keep him at home in Britain. As much as he might have pretended to have enjoyed the sunshine of the Mediterranean coast of Spain, he missed the mists and rain of his native soil and soul.

One day while acquiring supplies, he decided to see what Flourish & Blotts had that was new and interesting. Behind the counter was Hermione Granger. Her hair was still wild but her know-it-all attitude had diminished considerably after having survived the war and just plain grown up. Never a ravishing beauty, there was a new attractiveness in her features that appealed to Simon. While Simon was no Lockhart, neither was he a Snape.

"Why not," he reasoned to himself. "Granger was always an excellent mind. I am an excellent mind. I certainly deserve the tiniest modicum of pleasure. Perhaps she will tolerate Simon's company. After all, she need never know who I really am."

He casually strolled to the counter and introduced himself, "Good morning. Simon Blount."

She looked up and smiled at him, "Good morning, Mr. Blount. How may I help you?"

"I was wondering if you have any new publications in potions available. I've been out of the country for a few years and would like to see what we British wizards have been doing in the field since the end of the war."

"Certainly, if you'd follow me this way…" Hermione led him three bookcases to the right and two back. "As you can see, short of a potions master's own library, we are well stocked with the classics and a sufficient number of the newer works."

"So who is the leading potions master in Britain these days?" he inquired as he casually leafed through a book by Slughorn.

Hermione had to think for a few moments, "Most of the excellent ones are either dead or disappeared. Horace Slughorn, whom I personally detested, died in the war. Severus Snape, who personally detested me, disappeared. Some say he died, others say he's on the continent or maybe Canada."

"I can't imagine anyone detesting such a lovely flower as yourself," Simon turned on the charm.

"Oh Mr. Blount, you'll make me blush, if you keep that up," Hermione teased back.

"That was the objective, I believe, Miss…or is it Mrs.?" Simon initiated as his eyebrow cocked itself skyward.

Hermione giggled, "Sorry, Hermione Granger and it's still Miss."

"I can't imagine how that could be!" he exclaimed, secretly pleased that she might still be available to him without a fight with a Weasley. "Surely all the young wizards are queued up to sweep you away."

"Oh no…" Hermione giggled again. "I'm looking for an older wizard who knows who he is. And he must be brilliant."

"I can see that a woman with your intellect would hardly settle for a dunderhead…" he added.

Hermione smiled. It felt good to have someone new flirt with her.

"Perhaps you'd do me the honour of dinner tomorrow evening?" Simon proffered.

"I'd be delighted, but tomorrow evening I am to close here," she replied somewhat sadly.

"Then perhaps I could entertain you for lunch?" Simon tried again. "Surely they allow you time to dine?"

"That would be lovely, Simon," she smiled delighted at the offer.

"Then I shall come by around noon tomorrow," he selected a volume to purchase.

"Until tomorrow then," Hermione's heart rose as the jingle of the doorbell tinkled as Simon left.

It had been some time since her last real date. She and Ron had tried to fan the flames of the infatuation they had once felt, but those embers were cold. They had little in common, but even so, they still held one another in deepest affection. Although Ron would have hoped for more, he settled for a warm and enduring friendship.

Simon was punctual the next noon. Hermione took his arm as he led her toward a little sidewalk bistro. It had a traditional Italian theme, all the way down to the red-checked tablecloths. Hermione smiled broadly at its appearance. Ever the gentleman, Simon held her chair, and then conjured an exquisite rose for her. That evening Simon came to the store at closing time and escorted Hermione to her flat. Simon kissed the back of her hand at the door and promised to see her again soon. They saw each other every lunch and most dinners for months. His rationale was that they both had to eat, didn't they? It only made sense to Hermione; besides, she thoroughly enjoyed his attentions.