"This is a very strange wedding," Viktor said, leaning in towards Hermione's ear to make himself heard over the music. "Do you even know if Harry and your other friend are here?"

Hermione gave a knowing smile. "They're here."

"How do you know?" Viktor asked.

"Well, for one thing Harry is pretending to be the same person he was at Bill and Fleur's wedding. That isn't the biggest clue, though." Hermione nodded toward a corner table where two redheaded men were sharing a table with a young blonde woman who was laughing uncontrollably. "Only Ron has that effect on Luna."

---

"Do you not wish to speak to them?" Viktor asked.

"Luna maybe. I can speak to Ron and Harry anytime and we might as well put a 'We are here' sign over our heads if we all sit together." Hermione radiated contentment as the music slowed, wrapping her arms around her partner's neck and letting her body relax until its curves fitted against Viktor. "We have the perfect excuse to be at least a little antisocial."

Viktor's lips quirked in amusement. "I believe we have time for two or three dances before we must take another walk in the gardens."

---

Hermione checked that the luxuriant foliage of a lilac tree hid her and Viktor from view before she pulled the two hipflasks from her handbag, one silver and one bound in black leather. She passed the leather-bound one to Viktor.

Viktor grimaced as they each took a drink. "It tastes even worse when it is cold."

"You could always let it wear off and transfigure your robes so that no one recognises them," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure Percy would be thrilled to have such a famous guest."

"And I would be allowed to be with you?"

"No."

"Then I drink."

---

Hermione pulled Viktor back into their arboreal haven when he made to leave. She grinned at him. "You do realise that if I don't look thoroughly kissed when we go back in, then everyone will wonder why we sneaked out."

Suddenly, from nearby, there came the sound of someone coughing so hard they might have been choking to death. Then came a harsh whisper. "Hermione?"

Viktor scowled and led Hermione into the open.

"Barney," she sighed. "How did you recognise me?"

"I was going to ask Luna, but then I spotted your bracelet. Tonight, seven o'clock by the orchard entrance."

---

Harry gave them both an apologetic smile and wandered back in the direction of the function room.

"Vhat is tonight?" Viktor asked suspiciously.

"What," Hermione corrected him automatically. She grimaced as she tried to work out what and how much she could tell him. "It's just one of those things we have to do."

"Alvays vith the secrets," Viktor replied. "You should take off your necklace and your bracelet before ve go inside. Harry is right. You vear them alvays. Efen in our bed."

Hermione looked down at her wrist. "I can't. Not the bracelet."

Viktor strode toward the bar.

---

Viktor slid a glass of wine in Hermione's direction as she hovered nervously near his table.

"So I'm not completely out of favour?" she asked.

"I hate the secrets," Viktor grumbled. "Not you. It is as if there is another man, only it is not a man. If it vere a man, I could fight for you."

"You don't need to fight for me," Hermione answered. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Until tonight," Viktor finished regretfully.

"Until tonight." Hermione reached for Viktor's hand. "When I have something to do, but when it's done, I'll come back to you."

---

Instead of Skye, Hermione went to Edinburgh.

Severus looked up from his book at her knock, unfazed by her unfamiliar statuesque form. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

Hermione took the book from him, marking his place with a finger and checking the title before she passed it back. "I came for my training gear and to see if I could borrow a broom."

"I would have thought you lived in a house filled with brooms?" Severus remarked.

"And questions about why I want one."

Severus poured two drinks. "For the wait. Your training gear might stretch, but not that much."

---

Hermione sipped at her single malt. "Don't you want to know what I'm doing?" she asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

"Of course," Severus replied, "but if you are reluctant to give an explanation to your Bulgarian friend, then I can only assume that your mission relates in some way to the task that Dumbledore set for you and your fellow miscreants. I know it does not relate to anything we are doing. That being the case, I see little point in asking, as you would surely claim to be sworn to silence."

"You know me too well."

---

Too quickly, the Polyjuice wore off, and Hermione made ready for her task. She tugged her hair back into a rough ponytail that looked more like a bush, as she made her way back into the living room after getting changed.

Severus eyed it with distaste. "It's barely any tidier than when it's loose. Come here!"

Hermione stood her ground. "It'll have to do. It's too awkward to braid it when it's dry."

Severus strode around behind her, freeing her hair before he slowly tamed it into a tidy French plait.

Hermione froze, her scalp tingling from every functional caress.

---

Seconds passed, tension building as neither of them moved.

Hermione found herself struggling to quash down feelings of anger and possessiveness at the idea that he must have honed his skill on another woman. She wanted to quiz him about it, to demand to know if he had done this for Narcissa or Bellatrix or for the unnamed redhead of whom she had occasionally caught brief glimpses during her Occlumency training.

She heard his foot shift on the carpet, and the aura of expectancy shattered like an ornament of spun glass.

"I'll fetch that broom," he rasped. "You should go."

---

'He's gay, for crying out loud. It's not like you get yourself all wound up about the idea of him and Filch— Or not much.

But this is different. This is another woman.

Yes, but it's not like it's a sexual thing—

It damn well felt like it.

Only to you.'

Hermione sighed. 'Only to me.' She aimed a kick at the gatepost and instantly regretted it since her Converse high-tops offered little in the way of protection.

"Don't worry," came Harry's voice from the empty air at her side. "I won't keep you away from Viktor for too long."

---

"Very ninja," Harry remarked as he removed his cloak, nodding toward Hermione's skin-tight black ensemble and bum bag.

"Loose clothing is more likely to snag on things or get hit by a spell," Hermione replied. "Isn't Ron coming?"

"I'm hoping this will be a matter of stealth rather than fire power. He's really too tall for the cloak and we'll move more quickly with just the two of us." Harry grinned. "Not to mention the fact this would be an inconvenient time for you two to have a blazing row about your living arrangements."

"True," Hermione conceded. "The Shrieking Shack?"

---

"You're filthy."

"Thank you!" Hermione squelched into the room. "I wouldn't have noticed."

"You can't go back to the wedding like that," Severus pointed out.

"I know. I know," Hermione answered, taking off her bag before she removed Severus's broom from its impossibly small confines.

"You know where the bathroom is. I'll fetch you a robe."

By the time Hermione had started running the bath and taken off her socks and shoes, he knocked gently on the door. On top of the folded towelling robe he passed to her were two bottles. "Shampoo," Severus said, indicating the first, "and conditioner."

---

Severus waited until the sounds of splashing from the bathroom would mask his movements and unzipped the bag that Hermione had left sitting on the sofa. He peered into it, but the magic that allowed it to hold so much also distorted how things appeared inside it. He shook it gently and was rewarded with a dice-like rattle. Cautiously, he tipped the bag up at one end until its contents began to tumble out. He picked up one of the fangs of yellowed ivory, examining it closely before returning it and its fellows to the bag and closing it again.

---

She looked so adorably like a child playing dress up in her mother's clothes that Severus's chest constricted at the sight.

She seemed fascinated by the wet tresses that rioted over her shoulders, carding her fingers through them again and again. "You made that shampoo, didn't you?" she asked.

"Naturally," Severus agreed.

"For me."

"I'm not aware of anyone else whose hair requires that degree of relaxation."

She reached up and tugged at one of his own locks. Now that he was brewing regularly again, his hair was as lank and greasy as ever. "You're a strange man, Severus Snape."

---

Thanks to the Time Turner, Hermione arrived back at the wedding party before Harry despite her leisurely toilette.

Viktor, who was no longer Polyjuiced, appeared to be trapped between the bride and groom on one side and Rufus Scrimgeour on the other.

Hermione circled around the room until she could approach Alastor Moody from the front and invited him to join her on the dance floor. "I don't suppose I can persuade you to rescue Viktor before Percy drives him insane and there's a major international incident?" she asked, as Moody waltzed her around.

"It could be arranged," he growled.

---

The guests were thinning out. Waiters and waitresses were tidying up rather than serving, and Hermione took a seat at the bar to watch the few remaining couples who shuffled on the floor, including Ron and Luna.

Moody had spirited Viktor off to another room, so that his frequent glances in her direction wouldn't give anything away.

The song ended, and Luna moved toward the bar, while Ron headed for the conveniences.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna greeted her, "or have you changed your name, too? I would have talked to you earlier, but I didn't want to interrupt you and Viktor."

---

Hermione hugged Luna, whispering in her ear as she did so. "Helena, for tonight I'm Helena."

"That's a nice name," Luna said.

"I really wanted to introduce you to Marcus, but it's awkward..."

"That's okay. I'm not the sort of person who gets introduced to people like Marcus."

"You're my friend. That makes you exactly the sort of person who gets to meet my boyfriend. He's not as grumpy as he looks. Why don't you and Barney and Ginny and..."

"Reginald?" Luna suggested.

"And Reginald come over for Sunday lunch next weekend."

"I'd love to come for lunch," Luna enthused.

---

"Oh look! Barney and Reginald are back. Barney looks really excited," Luna commented.

"Tonight's been a good night," Hermione replied. One horcrux down. Three to go.

The band announced the last dance, and Ron began to move in their direction, while Harry made a beeline for Ginny. Hermione was about to look for Moody and Viktor when she saw a familiar young man approaching the bar.

His hair was a dirty blond, his eyes were hazel and he wore a black shirt and jeans, but even if he hadn't used the same disguise before, Hermione would have known him anywhere.

---

Hermione put down her bag. "If it wouldn't look suspicious, I would ask you to dance," she said, her words a blend of mischief and promise.

"If it wouldn't look suspicious, I would accept," Severus replied smoothly, and then he gave a bow in Luna's direction. "If your friend doesn't mind."

Luna smiled her other-worldly smile and slid from her stool. "That's alright, professor. I have someone to dance with."

Hermione saw her own panic reflected in Severus's eyes for an instant before his gaze met Luna's. Then, his lip quirked upward, and he nodded to Luna. "Touché, Miss Lovegood."

---

Hermione took Severus's hand, letting him lead her towards the dance floor, as Luna angled off to intercept Ron.

When they reached the centre of the floor he stepped in to face her, their eyes meeting. Hermione found herself hesitating, almost as if they could ever be more to each other than friends, as if taking that last step would break some barrier, preventing them from ever turning back.

With a steadying breath, she closed the gap and wrapped her arms around his neck. As they swayed together to the music, Severus buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.