"So, what now?" Hermione asked.

"Now you finish your lunch and go back to headquarters," Severus insisted.

"But Alastair—"

"I will attend to him." He reached across the table, stilling her argument before it came by taking her hand in his. "You've done more for me today than I would ever have dreamed, and I'm sure your presence enriched Alastair's final hours beyond any pleasure my feeble companionship could have allowed. Now, however, you must go back to your friends before your absence is remarked upon and trust me with the tasks that remain."

"My other friends," Hermione reminded.

---

"It's no one you know, Ron," Hermione argued, her voice sliding up a half octave from her usual tone. "Just an old man who deserves to be remembered."

"Well, yeah, we know that," the redhead asserted. "We just don't like the idea of you going alone."

"I won't be alone," Hermione sighed impatiently. "I'll be with Mum and Dad." She fixed her gaze on a point somewhere over Harry's shoulder.

"But you might need someone..." Ron's face took on a puppy dog expression.

A shiver passed down her back. "If I need comfort, I'll have someone who knew him." Severus.

---

Black did not suit her. She was meant for pastel shades that made her look tanned and well, rather than pale and delicate, or jewel tones that loaned her opulence. Her face was meant for smiles, not melancholy. Her hair should be spread around her in the wild abandon of a glorious post-coital halo, not groomed into the decorum of a sleek chignon. His Hermione.

He took her leather-gloved hand in his as, together, they weathered the service at the graveside, them on one side and a pair of women he took for nurses from the hospice at the other.

---

By unspoken accord, they walked back toward Severus's flat when the service drew to a close. Hermione's arm wormed its way around his waist between his overcoat and his suit jacket, and he reciprocated by clasping her to him with an arm about her shoulders. Snow settled and then melted in her hair and made the less-travelled pavements treacherous under their feet, but they welcomed the way it seemed to muffle them from the world around them, full of Christmas shoppers rushing from place to place, while they were content to measure out the debt they owed in unhurried footprints.

---

Hermione waited until she had placed a cup of tea by Severus's feet to speak. "What were the flowers?" she asked, knowing he had not plumped for some Interflora bouquet.

"Magnolia for dignity and nobility, white poppies for rest and consolation, camellias for gratitude and dark crimson roses for mourning."

She settled herself beside him, shucking off her boots to tuck her feet under her. She looped her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. "We did the right thing," she whispered. "Even if it hadn't saved your life, I think it was better than—"

"I know."

---

The tea went cold, but Severus wouldn't have pulled out of her grip merely to reach for a refreshment.

"I didn't expect you to be there," he finally commented. "You haven't visited."

"Even with a Time-Turner, I still need to be able to get outside the Apparition wards. I told Molly I had a cold to explain the red nose and the puffy eyes and the early night. She's been fussing ever since. I'm beginning to understand how Sirius felt."

"Black filled his days drinking and whining about how useless he was. I'm sure your time has been better employed."

---

Her head lifted from his shoulder at that remark, and when he twisted his head to see her, he was surprised to find a smirk on her lips. "Actually, it was."

She reached into a pocket hidden in the side seam of her flowing skirt and pulled out a small silver disc. "It can go on a watch chain."

She held her hand over Severus's, waiting until he opened his fingers to let it tumble into his palm.

He lifted it closer to better see the design embossed upon it and caught his breath. "This is my mother's family crest."

---

"Maybe I should send you to Voldemort wearing a phœnix?" Hermione asked archly, lifting her wrist where a similar disc was held in place by a narrow bracelet of silver.

"I can feel your magic on it... without even trying. I won't be able—"

"No one else will feel it. Only you," Hermione assured him. "Voldemort could take that in his hand and not realise it's been enchanted."

"Dare I ask what this does?"

Hermione lifted his free hand, placing it over the disc on her wrist. She closed his other hand. "Think of me. Imagine you need me."

---

"This is a Dark Mark variant, Hermione," Severus averred. "Its development must have been dangerous and time-consuming. You've been neglecting your other projects."

Hermione's eyes gleamed determinedly. "Some idiots might not appreciate it, but you are probably the deciding factor in who wins this war. Prophecy says Harry gets to strike the final blow, but without you I'm not sure we'll ever get that far. Is that reason enough... or can you just accept that I don't want to lose you for real?"

"I don't want you to lose me for real, either," Severus drawled.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," she whispered.

---

Content that Severus appreciated the thought and effort behind her gift to him, Hermione curled back into her previous position.

"Won't Molly be sending out search parties?" Severus asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I told her I was Apparating to my parents' and after that it would be at least a three hour drive each way. I better actually stop off at Mum and Dad's around six, but it'll be hours before anyone starts worrying."

"I should make you some lunch in that case."

"I'm not really hungry, but something's been bothering me..."

"Hmmm?"

"What happened that night?"

Continued in Rumours, Bargains and Lies