Disclaimer: I do not own the story of Harry Potter neither characters, objects, animals nor settings. I do not seek monetary gain from this story and give credit to J.K. Rowling fully when I used any part of her beautiful written world.

Author's Note: Read and Review please, open to any constructive critism on my writing you may have. Please refrain from criticizing character traits or any plot twists as they are individual to the story and completely my decision as to what they are. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Ticking clock,

dancing flame,

Dark night sky,

Pounding rain.

Shadow walk,

Sleeping soul,

Bleeding heart,

Taking toll."

- MThompson

The night seemed to draw out to lengths that bothered and soothed at the same time. In the corner the clock clicked with every minute passing yet the chiming hours never struck it seemed. A girl sat at the window watching with just the light of a single candle and the dying embers of a fire in the hearth for any signs of visitors outside. Her hands absently played with the corner of the page of a book, which she had used earlier as an excuse for being in the study, but as the house calmed and the occupants soon found slumber, all pretenses were all but necessary. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she bit her lip, tucked a stray curl behind her ear and pressed her forehead against the glass hoping to see someone coming but nothing and no one was. She took a deep breath letting out a sigh then looked quite gloomily at the candle, watching as the wax dripped silently as her brow furrowed with worry and then proceeded to go back to window, anxiously watching the raindrops slide down.

Like many nights, the rain lightly played its song on the pavement gathering along sidewalks and stoops and even drumming on the panes of each home. As midnight approaches, a silent figure paces his way through the streets, careful to make haste. As he passes an alley, he snaps his head to the left suddenly, grasping the object in his hand slightly tighter at the sound of rustling from the dumpster, but relaxes his grip slowly as he sees a cat rush by. He frowns at the sights, but continues his journey after a quick yet meticulous glance of his surrounding and finding nothing out of place. Shrugging away his thoughts he continues his strides with somewhat a quickened pace determined to reach his desired destination. As the man approaches, he looks around in caution of lingering eyes but his actions are for not as he is met with an empty street. He turns back to the space between two building, which to most would seem odd and closes his eyes as he chants his thoughts and is soon greeted with the sight of a house that though looked completely in its place to many had not existed a moment ago. Taking note of all the windows alerting him to any watchful eyes, he sighs in annoyance and exasperation at the sight of a soft light emanating from a front window. He should have known he says to himself, although he had hope even if just barely, that the lasts few times had been a fluke. He should have known better as the girl in question had no whimsical bone in her body. He quickly enters, taking care to make sure that the door didn't slam nor that he toppled the worn umbrella stand near it. After a moment of debate and another of staring down the hallway both ways, he treks his way towards the study. As he approaches he finds the door ajar and he slips in with ease and after squinting his eyes in order to see properly in the fainting light, he finds a bundle near the window and almost laughs at the sight. A book lay forgotten and lies askew on the girl curled form obviously forgotten and the blanket hangs a weird angle seemingly kicked around and twisted in the means of uneasy rest. Brown curls twist over and around the young face etched with undisguised worry. He quietly adjusts the blanket over the sleeping girl and tucks some hair behind her ear and resigns to leave her there and turns back in search of the kitchen in order to relax, it had been too long of a night.

"Your back." The voice is soft, laced with the clumsiness of sleep and followed as to prove its point by a soft yawn. He stiffens slightly at the sound of the voice not expecting to hear it tonight. He had just finished making his tea and had hoped that all this could wait until morning.

"Obviously." He responded letting his annoyance taint his voice although it carried very little harshness. He heard her footsteps come closer slowly, and he mocks in his mind at being approached like some scared feral animal, but he knew by now the hesitant approach was her fear of rejection rather than her fear of him specifically.

"I was waiting." She mentions almost off handedly just as her steps still at his side. He had yet to turn and still held hope that if she saw he was there she would leave to bed. To rest. Away from him.

"I noticed. I saw the light at the window when I arrived." There. He acknowledged her caring it should be done. He waited but he heard not steps indicating her departure.

"Did you want something, Miss Granger?" He gritted out impatiently as he grinds his teeth in exasperation. He truly wanted to be left alone. He felt her sigh and felt as she timidly placed her hand on his arm as if the connection would make a difference somehow. He tried to pull away and in vain it seemed as she tightened her grip enough to prevent it.

"I believe you forget your place Miss Granger." He declared with authority although the timbre in his voice betraying his calm façade. She remained silent in thought but just for another moment.

"Turn around." She demanded the haughtiness in her voice dripping as she squared her shoulders in determination.

"Excuse me?" He tried desperately to make it sound intimidating but apparently it had little effect on her anymore.

"Turn around, please… sir?" She spoke questioningly, perhaps truly believing that she may had overstepped her place, but none the less paired the inquiry with a demanding tug on his arm before acquiescing him his space and stepping back.

He sighed loudly but begrudgingly did as she requested. He cringed just slightly in preparation for reaction. He completely expected panic, pointless crying, or even obnoxious and excessive questioning, all having historical precedent with him. But instead he heard a soft gasp and then saw her features change from being annoyed to immediate concern and settling in the end on determination once more.

"Sit." She demanded forcefully the action causing him to bite back a laugh at how almost instantly she resembled the Weasley matriarch, with her hands on her hips and a stern no nonsense glare, all with the semblance of a mother scolding a misbehaving child.

"I repeat. I believe you forget your place, Miss Granger." He snidely said although reluctantly was forced into taking a seat as he felt his legs unnaturally buckling from under him. He glared at her wand menacingly and then at her for being forced to sit, fuming that the witch now felt embolden enough to act in such a way against him.

"You listen here, Severus Snape! You may have been my professor but now you are just a member of the Order to me and a friend whether you prefer differently or not, and I do not forget my place you silly man. You are hurt and if no one here cares then so be it but I do and I have made it my responsibility to look after your well-being and you will not only loose that smirk with me but you will let me help or so help me God you will be faced with a world of magic that I can make as obscure as possible and you will suffer the embarrassing consequences." She chastised forcefully all while making certain her speech did not wake the others as she opened a cabinet and brought out supplies. He starred at her for a moment as if a harpy had just passed by but soon straightened himself up in the chair in order to look superior but his actions brought a stinging pain through his midsection and he groaned at the movement. Hermione quickly came over at hearing him moan. Her hands were now flailing everywhere trying to figure out what was wrong. Giving up pretenses, He moaned out "ribs" in order to calm her down a bit. She nodded and quickly took out her wand and went to work. In times like these he was glad that the slip of a girl had become one of his most beloved friends. Years as a spy and a double one at that had brought many solitary nights and cold glares and he had bared them with his head held high even if his heart he had felt only betrayal. He risked his life and in truth it benefitted most of them greatly. In the end he answered to only himself as did his sins but the slip of a girl had in all her wisdom declared to care one day and had done everything possible to prove it ever since. So now as he watched the focus in those brown eyes and the care she took in treating him, he thanked Merlin, God, whoever and whatever had blessed him with such a gift. Once his ribs were dealt with she proceeded to heal the gash on the side of his head which he only remembered getting when she pulled back his hair and it had stretched his skin quite unpleasantly, pulling a pained hiss from him in response. After taking care to clean the side of his face with a wet cloth, she returned it to the bowl which now was full of bloodied water, she cast a quick vanishing spell and with another flick of her wand he found his tea was in his hand once more.

"Now…" She demanded as she stood and brushed the wrinkles from her clothes and took her spot in a seat across from him "… tell me what happened?"

He stared at her for a long moment debating whether he really wanted to share the occurrences of tonight and then with a sigh of exasperation at her no nonsense tone and one of resignation he proceeded to recount the events to her, of the night, none the less.

It soon seemed that he had been speaking for hours and judging by the sliver of light he noticed outside through the kitchen window, realized it was perhaps a great possibility but what concerned him most was the silence that had continued after his retelling from Hermione the last ten minutes. He knew she was processing a lot and that the wheels in her minding were spinning tremendously quick as she made connections, predictions and assumptions, meticulously outweighing every possibility with the next. Yet experience told him silence from her was never good. In the end after setting her mug down slowly she looked at him and then downcast her glance to the table.

"No." She stated, anger coloring her words dangerously. Her whole presence changed. Before she had been relaxed now she tensed noticeably and her voice held a sharpness to it that rarely was used.

"But NeeNee…" He protested, he had known from the moment he had decided to tell her that the possibility of her rejection had been quite high but he also knew he must do what he can even if it cost him in the end.

"Don't you dare NeeNee me, Rus!" She snapped rubbing at her eyes in frustration in what she just heard.

"I have to, you know that I do." He pleaded to her. Her glance snapped to look into his eyes, confused by the tone she had heard, searching for something in them but for what he did not know, then with a sigh of resignation she nodded her head and conceded even if somewhat reluctantly.

"Whatever you have to do Rus, whatever you need to do," she said angerly and without a second thought she left him there as he stared at her retreating form wondering what she had seen in him that had led to the conclusion she had ended choosing.