A/N: Fourth and final one-shot of the week. I hope that this makes up for missing two weeks. New chapter tomorrow for Dreaming Through The Storm. I leave for the beach in the morning, so it might be updated closer to early Saturday morning than late Friday night. But we'll see how it goes. Disclaimer
SSHGSSHG
He just would not shut up. Severus didn't expect him to any time soon, but that didn't keep the Dark Lord from being any less annoying. Severus didn't mind being a spy; it was for a good cause. He had learned to deal with the bowing, and the being crucioed, and the ass kissing, mostly because those were the nights when he gained the information he needed. But on nights like these, when all the Dark Lord did was bitch and moan, Severus would've loved nothing more than to walk up to him and punch him square in the face. He wouldn't quite be able to break his nonexistent nose, but he would sure as hell try.
During these types of meetings, Voldemort paid as much attention to his Death Eaters as the Death Eaters paid to him, so Severus would take the time to think about where he'd rather be without having to worry about Voldemort finding out. When the all-powerful Lord Voldemort got into the zone, not even Nagini could get him out of it until he was finished. One of his favorite things to think about, meaning the only thing he thought about, on nights such as this was a certain caramel-eyed student of his. He was always thinking about Hermione, he couldn't help it. She made him happy. It might seem a bit backwards, but she made him feel safe. And that was something that not even the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore could make him feel. At the risk of sounding like some muggle Christmas song, she made him feel warm inside. Hermione gave him hope.
You couldn't quite call what they had a relationship, but they were certainly close. Everytime she smiled at him, he could almost believe that she felt the same way. And she had to know how he felt about her. For a man who controls his emotions for a living, he was an open book to her. He couldn't control it. It was just the way she effected him.
He had spent a majority- okay, all- of his time at the meeting tonight thinking about her and himself, and he had finally come to a decision. He was going to tell her. Based on the Dark Lord's history of rant sessions, Severus should arrive back at the castle sometime around midnight. It was also Wednesday, which was practically fate calling out to him. Hermione had her prefect rounds on Wednesdays between eleven and two. It wasn't creepy that he knew her schedule. He just happened to spend some nights walking extra rounds through the castle and happened to stumble upon her, which would lead to the two of them finishing off the night together, which also meant that he knew the route she took through the castle. He'd be able to arrive back at the castle, change out of his Death Eater robes, and be able to find her with relative ease. If he felt as confident then as he did now, it would all go well. Hopefully. If not, then he'd be absolutely miserable.
He was a grown man. He'd fought in wars and been to Hell and back so frequently that he had Satan on his speed dial. Telling someone he loved them should be one of the easiest things in the world. Or not. Tonight should be interesting.
Thoughts still on the night to come, Severus brought his attention back to his Master, who was still ranting and raving. No matter what happened between him and Hermione, there was one thing that he would always be absolutely certain of.
He'd rather be with her.
SSHGSSHG
A/N: Yet another fic inspired by a song. I really need to start coming up with my own ideas again. Or stop listening to music. But let's face it, I'll never stop listening to music. If you have a fic you want written, let me know and I'll do my best.
