Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely characters, as much as I may wish that I did. They are the creation of the wonderful J. K. Rowling and I'm just thankful that she lets me take them out of the closet to play with them every once in a while. I am certainly not making any financial gains via this story.

A/N the first: This takes place at the end of Hermione's Seventh Year. Most definitely not DH compliant. The rest is up to you. Voldemort is dead and our darling Severus has been understood to be one of the good guys. He is still employed by Hogwarts, either as Potions Master or Headmaster…I haven't decided what happened to Dumbledore in this little universe here.

A/N the second: While I have decided to leave up my previous fanfictions, I understand that they are, for the most part, either completely ridiculous or unfinished. Neither of these things are likely to change. I leave them up as a reminder to myself that I have grown tremendously as a writer. I do, however, recommend that you not try and kill your brain by reading them :)

A/N the third: The song is Peter, Paul & Mary's 500 Miles.

When the Whistle Blows

Hermione stood on the platform in Hogsmeade Village as the Hogwarts Express blew its penultimate warning whistle. There were just a few of the First Years still pulling their trunks onto the train, excited to go home and tell their parents all about their first magical year learning to use their powers properly. Hermione remembered her first year with great fondness – excited to have learned why she had always felt different from her Muggle primary school "friends," why she never felt accepted, but also excited that for the first time, she would have friends with whom she could communicate and who actually wanted to communicate with her.

Hermione shook her head suddenly to snap herself out of her reverie. This was neither the time nor the place for such youthful reminiscing. The only type of reminiscing she should be doing was wracking her brain with what else she possibly could have said last night to change his opinion of her, to make him understand that she hadn't been trying to play him for a fool. To make him believe that she truly cared for him. Loved him, even.

If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles,

She told him she would wait on the platform for him, but that when the final warning whistle sounded, if he wasn't there, she would get on the train. He wouldn't have to worry about seeing her again.

A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.

He was Severus Snape, and he had captured her heart. With nothing to lose, Hermione had gone to see him the previous night to confess her feelings to him. After all, it was her last night at Hogwarts, and it was highly unlikely that she would ever see him again in any great capacity. The extremely irrational part of her brain hoped that he would pull her close to him, plant a wet one on her, and share that he returned her feelings. But she knew that Severus Snape was no randy teenager, and that even if he did care for her, he was not going to play out a scene from a romance novel in the doorway to his private chambers. Still, the Gryffindor in her made Hermione go and knock on his door and tell him how she felt. His reaction was the worst possible reaction he could have had when she thought back on all the scenarios that had played through her mind as she had walked down to him that night. She imagined rejection, a door slamming in her face…even him laughing at her. But none of these happened. Instead, Severus stared at her. And stared. With those cold, dark eyes. Not a single emotion of any kind flashed across his face or shone in his eyes as she bared her sole to him. He silently listened to her, and when she was finished, he just stared. Then, after what felt like an eternity to Hermione, he closed the door. And Hermione leaned her back against the wall next to his door, and started to sob as she slowly slid down the wall onto the floor. She was positive he could hear her, but she knew she couldn't make it back to Gryffindor Tower at that moment. So she allowed the sobs to wrack through her body for almost two hours, grateful that no students were wondering about. And then, she slowly stood up, and made her way back to her dormitory to pack her things.

Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four,
Lord I'm 500 miles from my home.

As Hermione stood on the platform, she thought back to the last thing she said to him before silence hung heavily in the air: "If you don't appear, you don't have to worry about seeing me or hearing from me again."

And she now felt that she should not have said that, as the idea of never seeing him again made her heart feel as if it was slowly breaking in two. Why did she have to say something so final? But Hermione was nothing if not honorable, and she would keep her word.

Away from home, away from home, away from home, away from home
Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home.

Hermione jumped slightly as the last whistle pierced through the air and through her heart. She sighed, and slowly bent down to reach for the handle of her trunk and began to drag it towards the steps of the train carriage nearest to her. It was also the one nearest to Hogwarts, nearest to him. Sighing once more, Hermione lifted a heavy foot up and onto the first step.

Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name
Lord I can't go back-home this a-way

A flash of black out of the corner of her eye made Hermione pause.

"Oi, Hermione! You coming?" Harry called, sticking his head out of the window of his compartment.

Hermione cast a sad glance toward the castle, determined that no one was there and that her eye must have been playing a trick on her, gave her trunk one last yank up the stairs as she fully stepped into the carriage and tried not to let the tears that were building in her eyes spill out.

This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way,
Lord I can't go back-home this a-way.

Not 500 meters away from where Hermione stepped up onto the train, Severus Snape stood behind a tree. He wondered if she had seen him. Shaking his head, he groaned, wondering if he had done the right thing. She was young and beautiful. He was certain that she'd allowed her emotions of leaving Hogwarts for the final time to take control of her rather intelligent brain when she'd arrived at his door the previous evening. After all, what witch in her right mind would be interested in him? Especially one with such a bright future ahead of her, as she had. Severus Snape was head over heels in love with Hermione Granger, but he would never let her fantasies ruin her future by telling her the truth. And with an uncharacteristic display of emotion, Severus trudged back up toward the castle with his head hanging down, looking thoroughly miserable.

If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles.