Chapter Text
A gentle summer sunrise swept over a patient, composed Hermione. She paced back and forth along the marble walkway just outside a small amphitheater right on Victoria’s coastline. It was cool and airy in the morning—perfect for travel, especially international. Her guest, the Ministry’s guest, would surely appreciate the calm. It would take four jumps for him to travel safely across the world. The differences in time and season would be enough to unsettle Hermione. She liked to keep a firm routine.
“What time was the portkey scheduled again?” she asked her colleague, Brian.
The man checked his mobile.
“He’s due to arrive in about five minutes or so.”
“Do you think we should’ve sorted him a cuppa? Welcome him a bit?”
“You’re a good sort,” Brian chuckled. “You’ve already offered him a place at your house—world‑class accommodations, considering how much your dad loves to cook. I’m still waiting for my next dinner invite myself.”
“Soon, Bri,” Hermione smiled. “As soon as we have something to celebrate. Christmas and New Year’s are out of the way. We’ll have to see.”
A soft breeze picked up, carrying the scent of the Southern Ocean. This time of year was warm but never scorching hot. Out here, on the open coastal plain, Hermione could look out to the gold and purple sea and swear she could see forever—once the mist lifted.
Then came a sudden noise—like a whirlwind—cutting through the steady crash of waves. The air shifted, charged with magic, pulling her gaze from the moody lavender ocean toward the edge of a tree line near a deliberate ring of stones—the designated landing point. A man, a wizard, landed just where they expected and stood up, immediately brushing himself clean of the dirt. His trunk stood tall beside him, dressed in black as well.
“Good morning!” said Brian, walking over to greet him first.
“Good morning,” the wizard said, coughing a bit to clear his throat. The two men shook hands once he could.
“Welcome to Australia. My name’s Brian Chen. I’m a representative of the Ministry and your point of contact. My department deals in international relations.”
“Yes. Well, I am Professor Snape.”
He looked at Hermione and held out a hand, which she took graciously. “Welcome. I’ve been the one writing to you.”
“Dr. Granger?” he confirmed, appearing surprised.
“Hermione. We’re pretty casual here.”
“Forgive me if I hold fast to my ways.”
“Already forgiven,” she smiled.
Hermione felt he was surprised by her appearance for reasons she’d explore later—when they got a bit of food in them and had somewhere to sit. She, too, was curious about him and hadn’t expected him to be so tall and young. She had read his work and analyzed his writing style (because she did that without thinking), building an image of him in her mind. She believed him to be nearer her parents’ age group just from his style and word choice.
Brian checked his mobile again, possibly for the time. The Ministry offices were opening precisely at eight. He had more than enough time, but Hermione knew her friend. He was the kind of man who said, If you’re on time, you’re late.
“Righto, I’ll leave you here with Hermione—in safe hands. During your stay, feel free to reach out if needed. I wish you luck in your endeavors.”
“Thank you,” said the professor succinctly, clearly not one for small talk, from what Hermione could surmise.
“I’ll see you later,” Brian said, turning toward Hermione, kissing her cheek. “I’ll text you. Tell Ria I’ll bring her favorite biscuits. I’m heading to my mum’s bakery today.”
“Yeah, I will.”
With that last word, he apparated away, leaving Hermione alone with her new guest, the scent of coffee and cream lingering where he stood.
“How are you? After so many portkeys?”
“I’ve been… better, I have to admit.”
“Hungry? I know you aren’t supposed to eat when you’ve got so many trips back‑to‑back.”
“I am.”
“We’ll apparate, yeah? My place is nearly an hour and a half away by car. Think you can stomach it?”
“I’m a brave man,” he said warmly. The tone made her smile.
“Alright, then.”
A hand on his arm and his held firmly to his trunk, Hermione felt the pull of magic, transporting them both in the blink of an eye.
They arrived in her greenhouse, the apparition point set by her godfather when she was eight. It was safe from Normal eyes, which was all that mattered. The place was thick with humidity, so Hermione took a slow, calming breath before turning to check on the professor.
“You look positively ill. I should’ve waited for your body to acclimate.”
“No,” he said, eyes closed, obviously trying to reorient himself. “Now I’ve nothing else to worry about.”
“Actually, this greenhouse is about two kilometers from my cottage.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Hermione smiled and shook her head. “It’s only about two hundred meters away. The big house is even closer, and my dad’s probably got breakfast ready. I was teasing you, Professor.”
“Ha. You’re hilarious,” he said sarcastically.
“I try.”
“If I should call you Hermione, you can call me Severus.”
“Easier that way. My parents’ titles are doctor as well—too many of us. Confusing with the three of us all named Dr. Granger.”
“I could see that,” he agreed.
“Anyway, leave your trunk here,” she told him kindly. The wizard looked around, scanning all he could see. She doubted he’d recognize these native Australian plants. “I’ll get it later. Nothing in here will eat it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t keep anything that could harm my child or my parents in this greenhouse. They’re not able to wave a wand.”
“Pragmatic.”
“I like to think so. Come on. We’ve got tea and toast.”
“That sounds brilliant.”
On the walk over to the main house, Hermione could feel the summer heat climbing already. Ria would want a trip to the beach again, she anticipated. Her tan was already fading from the last visit. Perhaps their visitor would like to go as well.
“Are you keen on water?” she asked, leading him up a gravel path.
“I need it to live,” he replied dryly.
Hermione laughed. “I mean, do you like swimming or sunbathing? It’s winter in Britain now—rainy and cold. Would you like some sun? My girl’ll be begging for a trip down to Lala Beach.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Let me know. I know you’re here for work, but a few hours in the sand can’t hurt. Who would know?”
“If I return to Britain with sun‑kissed skin, all will know that I was outside and not trapped in a lab working on this potion.”
“They won’t fuss if we cure it,” said Hermione, pulling open the big white screen door. “Mum! Dad!”
Nearby, in the corner, were four parakeets greeting her first, along with the delicious scent of sausages wafting through the air. She pulled the door shut behind them just as her mother and daughter appeared down the passage.
“Hello!” her mother said, reaching out a hand. “I’m Helen.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he replied. “Severus.”
The little girl with a messy brunette ponytail and sea‑blue eyes loudly announced, “Good morning! I’m Ria!”
Without missing a beat, Severus said, “Good morning. How are you?”—as if she were a patient or business partner and not a preschooler. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen a child this young in so long. He’d mentioned a daughter, but she was already in secondary school.
“I’m alright. What about you?” she replied confidently.
“Same,” he answered.
Helen laughed and ushered the child away toward the kitchen, asking if she wanted milk or juice.
Hermione said to him, “I should warn you—she’ll be your very best friend in no time. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“I’ve had worse friends.”
In the kitchen, Hermione’s father, John, was plating scrambled eggs and sausages onto one platter. The toast was already on the table. Helen handed Ria a cup of milk, warning her not to spill it.
“Dad, this is Professor Snape. Severus, this is my dad, John.”
Hands full, John managed a wide, welcoming smile. “Hello! Nice to meet you.”
“Same, sir.”
“Just John. Grab a seat! Hermione’ll get your tea or coffee.”
Once the entire family was seated, Hermione was able to catch up on her daughter’s schedule for the day. Since her parents were semi‑retired, they were Ria’s caregivers nearly every day Hermione was working—either at the university or in her own workshop on the property. She couldn’t brew or see clients with the little girl underfoot.
“Nana says we’re going shopping.”
“For what?”
“My school uniform.”
“That’s right. It’s almost time for school, isn’t it?” Hermione had her life planned to the hour some days, but it was fun pretending to be enlightened. “I’m glad Nana remembered.”
“Me too!” Ria agreed. “We always get ice cream and tacos when we go shopping.”
“Sweetie, that was a secret,” Helen told her, reaching over to wipe her jam‑covered face.
Whispering very loudly, Ria said, “She doesn’t know about getting our nails done, ay.”
Beside her, Severus cracked a smile and covered his mouth, stifling his laughter.
Proud of herself, Ria asked him, “Do you like having your nails painted?”
“I haven’t had them painted in a long time, I’m afraid.”
“You should. It’s fun. My favorite color is cerulean.”
He blinked, possibly impressed by her vocabulary or her diction. “I like obsidian.”
She paused, considering his reply, then said, “Sounds pretty.”
“My daughter prefers a bubblegum pink.”
“What’s her name?”
“Annaliese. She is twelve.”
“Oh. Do you want to go with us to the salon? My Auntie Par is very good.”
John laughed, handing Hermione his plate as she cleared the table. “It’s a nice time,” her father said to the other man. “Bubbles and spa treatment. Practically another daughter, so she charges a good rate.”
The corner of Severus’s mouth twitched upward, and he seemed a bit overwhelmed by them all. “I think I’ll pass. I have some serious work to do.”
Ria nodded thoughtfully. “When I start school, I gotta be serious too. I’ll have homework.”
“That’s right!” Helen said, helping her down from her chair. “Let’s get ready for our day out. Say goodbye to Mr. Severus.”
With breakfast complete, Hermione set the kitchenware to wash, rinse, dry, and put away the dishes. Focusing on Severus, she said, “Let me show you to the cottage, and I’ll grab your trunk.”
“I can summon it.”
“Yes, but I haven’t been traveling. Don’t drain yourself. I can summon it too—it’s no bother.”
The cottage was a short walk down that same path, past the greenhouse. It sat close to the sea line and on a slight slope. The white house also had its own apparition point for clients to pop in for their appointments. Hermione pointed to it—a swirl painted on the concrete just outside the side door.
“My workspace is here in the front, and the rooms and kitchen are further back. I work here twice a week—brewing, selling potions, and seeing clients.”
“You don’t live here too?”
“No. When I had Ria, I decided it was easier if we all lived together. We built the cottage so I could practice. The land was big enough. The guest rooms have come in handy over the years. Now you get to use one.”
She opened the door with Alohomora and stepped inside the small showroom and waiting area. Two comfortable chairs sat in the corner by the window facing the sea. Vials of potions in every color framed the room, shelves stretching from counter height to the ceiling. It was bright and sunny—pale yellow, green, and pink on the walls.
“What do you think?”
“It’s very bright.”
“That was the plan,” she said with a smile. “Anything that promotes healthy sexuality and fertility. I wanted it to be a hopeful space.”
“Hope is nice.”
“I agree.”
She opened another door leading to a small living space with a bedroom set and kitchenette attached. The décor was light green, blue, and gray. The man looked relieved.
“The bathroom’s over there. No closet, but that armoire’s all yours. There’s a TV in the other room.”
“I do not watch television.”
“Never? Not even movies or the news?”
He said, “I did a long time ago. It’s not something we see much of. Wizarding homes do not have electricity.”
“Wow. Well, if you want to watch anything, the remote’s in there. So, what about mobiles and laptops?”
“No. We don’t use those. Your parents are Muggles, right?”
“Muggles? Non‑magical, right? We call them Normals here. Yes, they are.”
“Is that why your life is so integrated?”
“All magical people here live among the Normal population. We don’t show them magic—same as you. There are laws against it.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes. I’d like to learn more about how things are in Britain, but I think you should rest.”
His shoulders slouched, and he said, “I agree with you. Thank you for breakfast and this room.”
“Of course,” she smiled. “We’ve got important work to do later. Get some rest.”