Disclaimer- I own nothing, just had a little idea.

Battlefield

Looking back now, she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that her feelings for him changed. He had intimidated her for so many years that it took her longer than usual to realize that what she was feeling was now different. The tension was still there but it was changed, she no longer became breathless and fidgety out of fear, it was now something else all together. That's not to say that his frightful personality was any less daunting. Just the way that she perceived him had changed.

It had been so many years since they had first met. She was no longer that shy scared little girl; the one who had felt the need to overcompensate for being lonely. She was grown now and had gone through more hell than she ever would have guessed. The harsh times had changed her but not irreparably. She was harder now, a little less optimistic, less trusting. But then war could do that to a person.

The war had changed everything, families were torn apart, and a generation of children had to bypass their childhoods in favor of fighting. Innocence was lost. The battle had been long and hard but when the dust had settled, the right side had won. It had been four years since that fateful day, four years since the fight for their lives. Not everyone she loved had lived, while others were forever changed. Enemies were revealed to be allies, and those thought friends had turned traitor. It was somewhere around the end there when her feelings began to change, but then she had lied to herself about them for so long, she wasn't sure. Had her feelings really changed or had they been there all the while, just hidden away and waiting to get out? She didn't know, but then again it really didn't matter either; for he would never see her as anything other than an insufferable know it all.

He had never liked her as a child and made no secret of it. He was never one to hide his disdain and everyone knew it. She had hoped that the end of the war and the fact that he had survived when no one expected him to would maybe soothe his sharp edges. Yet, those hopes had fallen flat, if anything his behavior was worse now. Seeing him sporadically over the past four years had been hard enough, she had no idea what possessed her to come back to the school as a professor. The past six months had been hell on her nerves. Seeing him every day at meals was wearing her acting skills thin. She wasn't sure how much longer she could handle his dark eyes glaring at her before she broke. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if she was lower than pond scum. After the war ended, she naively believed that she would no longer need protection. She hadn't realized that she needed armor for her heart.

That infernal chit was staring at him again. He could not understand why she insisted on always looking at him. She always had an odd quality to her eyes when she did; it made him wonder exactly what he was seeing when he caught her. He had thought that six years of having to put up with her insufferable ego and know it all tendencies would have been enough penance for his sins. Then the war turned into all out battle and he had taken it as a foregone conclusion that he would not survive the final battle. In point of fact, it had nearly done him in, and he had made peace with that. He had committed enough wrongdoings in his life that he had resigned himself to the fact that it was high past his time. Apparently though he was the only one who had accepted this, once again the annoying bookworm and her lunatic idiot friends had other plans. They had decided that he was worth saving, like it was up to them. He placed the blame squarely on her shoulders, the duo of simpletons she called friends would never have been able to pull it off on their own; they didn't have enough brainpower to run a light bulb. The fact that they were touted as saviors of the world was just utterly ridiculous. Even worse, was that he himself was somehow included the fringes of that group. Like that was all he needed, for even more people to be staring at him all the time, always looking at him like he was a puzzle that needed to be solved. It irritated him to no end that people were so uneven, first always believing the worst of him, to flipping on a dime, to say that they had always known he was on their side. Please, most of them wouldn't be able to find their heads if their arse was sitting on them.

Worst of all, they had managed to save his life, when he didn't want saving, yet he had to spend almost six months in the hospital recovering. Dealing with the constant barrage of people hovering was enough to drive him insane. It just furthered his longing to return to his dungeons and remain there, never socializing with other people, outside of his coworkers and even then only when absolutely necessary. Yet, even that want was to be denied. As a lauded war hero, he had to be seen and was forced to attend countless victory celebrations over the years that followed, always in the public eye. Didn't these half-witted idiots know that just because the Dark Lord had been defeated, it didn't mean that all was well and furthermore that it was never going to happen again? No, they wanted to bury their heads in the sand and live their pretty little lives in denial. Again.

At least his long stay in the hospital had prevented him from having the displeasure of having to teach her for the last year. He supposed he should be thankful for small victories. However that victory was short lived, he was forced to see the foolish girl way too often, and then to make matters worse, the fates, in the way of that Scottish meddler, go and offer her a job teaching six months ago. He should have known that she would accept, and now he had to deal with seeing her almost every day. Hadn't he been through enough to earn a little peace in his life?

Now he was the one staring as she stood to the side of the boisterous celebrations, looking about as uncomfortable as he felt; only difference was that he had long mastered the cover of bored disdain. No one ever really knew what he was thinking and, quite frankly he liked it that way. If he had to be truthful with himself, he made it a hobby of his to watch her. He wouldn't admit to himself as to why, but he would find himself watching her anytime he had the opportunity. Like right now, he watched as she conversed with a few people, smiling at whatever they said to her, but he was the only one who seemed to notice that her smile never quite reached her eyes these days. Her hands were fidgety as she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here at this moment, which was a sentiment that he himself shared. There were actually times when he-

"If the two of you would just actually talk to each other, you might find that you like that better than just watching covertly,"

He barely spared her a glance as he fairly growled back. "You are turning more and more like him every day, Minerva, please try and keep your machinations to yourself."

"Save that scowl for someone that it works on, I have known you for far too long now. Don't think I didn't notice that you didn't deny it." By now, Minerva McGonagall was openly smirking.

"Why bother to deny something that preposterous. You cannot hold me responsible that the foolish girl has a lack of self control. I have no idea where your mind was when you offered her the Charms position. Should I be concerned about your capability to do your job?"

By this time, he had turned to face her, yet it galled him to realize that even though he was now looking Minerva in the eye, he could still see her out of the corner of his eye. Apparently, he was more obvious than he had realized. Oddly enough he found that he was actually not that upset that Minerva had noticed, however that did not stop him from wanting out of this conversation. He may have made an escape if what she said next hadn't obliterated most of his conscious thought.

"Well, in her case, it is really not that much of a surprise. It was obvious to any who cared to look that she had developed somewhat of an affection for you while she was in school. Nor has she ever struck me as a particularly flighty girl, so it is entirely possible that those feelings never went away. And you do realize that she is no longer a student, in fact I really doubt that anyone would blink over this. Of course you...."

"Have you lost your mind?! Is the stress of the job getting to you! I---that is to say--," Severus didn't even know how to respond to what he had just heard. While deep down inside, a small part of him, very small part, was warming at the thought, he was also honestly concerned that Minerva had indeed gone around the bend. For her to even have suggested what she had, let alone in the middle of a crowded ball room, there had to be something wrong with her.

"Ok, so people would talk, saying that they wouldn't may have been naïve on my part, but seriously, Severus, you can't live your life based on what other people think. And despite your protestations, that is exactly what you do. People expect to you be a horrible anti-social git and that is exactly what you give them. Honestly, I think that you get some sort of perverse pleasure out of living down to their expectations. You are right, meddling was more Albus's sort of thing than mine, but I am tired of watching the two of you dance around each other with insults and glares. I really thought that as intelligent as you both are, you really would have worked it out by now, especially now that she lives and works here. Yet, I seem to be beating my head against a wall, so tonight I take a new approach. I am getting older now and you could say that the time for me has passed, but I will be damned if I let it pass for the two of you. So if I have to stoop to meddling, so be it! And please close your mouth, you look like a fish."

Severus snapped his jaw closed so hard that they both heard it crack. He couldn't manage a coherent thought let alone come up with an insult that would put her in her place. For him to be unable to think of some new stinging sarcasm, showed just how off balance he was by what his companion had just said. From the looks of the smirk on Minerva's face, she knew just how badly she had thrown her poor potions professor out of whack. Still coming up with nothing to say, he decided to do what he did second best, turn and storm away. A little smile crossed her lips as she watched him exit the Great Hall, black cloaks billowing. Well played, she thought, well played. Now to take care of the other half of the equation.

From her side of the Great Hall, Hermione actually had a pretty good view of Minerva and Severus' conversation. Granted she could not make out anything they were saying, but she tell that the professor was not responding well at all to what the Headmistress was saying at all. What really made her nervous though was that they both kept looking her way while they were talking. She had no idea what they were discussing but she had a sinking feeling that it somehow involved her. She ignored the conversation going around her, it's not like they needed her for it anyways, and continued to watch was happening across the hall. She watched as Severus appeared to be completely flummoxed and then as he gave a glare that would make many students cry and turned and stormed out of the hall. He always did like dramatic exits.

She sighed, it had been hard enough running into him at the endless publicity events, she wasn't sure what had possessed her to jump at the teaching position when Minerva offered it. For crying out loud, it was Charms, it wasn't even what she would call a favorite subject. Oh, sure, she was talented at it, but it wasn't what she really would have liked to be teaching. Yet, even as she questioned her motives, she knew exactly why she had taken the position. For all the fact that she was no longer a little girl, she couldn't seem to stop acting like a teenager with an idiotic school girl crush around him. Granted he was her former professor, but that had been over five years ago, she would have thought that she had outgrown her little infatuation by now. But she hadn't, and everything she had tried to get over it and move on, had only seemed to make things worse. So she had decided to try and beard the lion is his own den, she was hoping that maybe proximity would breed contempt. Hah! If anything it was worse than ever. How she could care so much for a man that had never even said one nice thing to her. Granted he never said a nice thing to anyone, but still was she mental?

She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't even noticed that group that she had been mingling with had moved on. Okay, maybe mingling was too strong a word, more like standing near. Gods, she hated these things. She realized that it was the fourth anniversary of the final battle and that she should be celebrating but honestly, she was over it. For the first few years after the war had ended all anybody wanted to do was celebrate. Every politician and their brother threw party after party. And of course the Ministry wanted all their war heroes there. The same ministry that had declared them renegades before the final battle and Golden Heroes right after. She hated politicians more than she hated these useless parties. She wandered out the door, heading for the rose garden, looking for some fresh air. The night air had a chill in it, winter had a tenacious hold on spring this year and did not want to let go. That was perfectly ok with Hermione, the cold helped ease the pain in her head. These events always gave her a migraine. She took a sip of her drink and then sighed again. Except this time someone heard her.

Severus stormed out of the Great Hall, with no real destination in mind. Upon arriving outside in the night air, he realized that he had no idea where he was heading. He found himself pondering what to do. He had put in the required appearance at the festivities, he supposed he could return to his chambers and bask in the solitude, but for whatever reason, that didn't appeal to him. He didn't think that he could handle the walls closing in on him. His conversation with Minerva had left him feeling like a caged animal. He set off to wander the grounds, cursing the infernal woman, no women, that had thrown him out of balance this way.

The chill in the air helped to cool his temper, but did nothing to ease the turmoil of his thoughts. He couldn't quite warp his mind around what Minerva had suggested to him, much less the fact that she seemed to endorse the insane idea. He also refused to acknowledge that her approval put a little crack in the armor around his heart. The very idea of the possibility of any sort of relationship other than that of colleagues with Miss Granger was just utter nonsense. Again he ignored the newest crack forming in his armor.

He was pacing back and forth in front of the lake. He smirked to himself that if anyone was watching they would probably just assume that he had finally cracked under all pressure of his life. He had no intention of ever cracking but Minerva's manipulative comments were worming their way in and around his mind. They were bringing buried thoughts to the surface and he found that once the idea was said out loud, he couldn't shake it off.

So he had a habit of watching Miss Granger, apparently he hadn't been as discrete as he thought. That was not exactly comforting news for the former spy, he wondered what else he had inadvertently given away. He fought with himself on a regular basis; he found that he had to make a concentrated effort to keep her compartmentalized as a student. He knew that she has not been his student in years, and was in point of fact, his colleague, but he couldn't put them on the same level. To do so would only invite trouble. He wasn't sure what had caused the shift, be he had first noticed his change of opinion about her while he was still in the hospital. Maybe it was when the nurses had told him that she had visited him when he was unconscious or maybe it was when he saw her the one and only time that she came to visit after he had woken up. His sudden shift in thought towards her combined with his feeling like an invalid had provoked him to lash out at her. He could still recall the tears in her eyes when she had fled the room; she never came to visit him again.

Every time they attended the same events he found it hard not to watch her, but he never approached her for any sort of conversation. How could he, some people still suspected him of being a double agent, they would surely lose it if he was seen talking to their favorite heroine. Standing in the shadows, he began to notice that she was never as into celebrating as her friends were, she always looked slightly uncomfortable, never at ease. Then again, knowing her, she probably wanted to be somewhere quiet, with just a book as company, but he couldn't fault her for that, he had the same proclivity. After years of watching her from afar, fate played games again, or maybe it was a meddling Minerva, all he knew was that the object of most of his thoughts was now working at Hogwarts. He now had to deal with seeing her multiple times a day, every day. He didn't handle it well, if anything, he managed to be meaner than ever, which even he had to admit was saying something. He was surprised that his fellow professors had restrained from causing him bodily harm over the past six months. In fact they had taken his increasingly horrible behavior in stride. He suddenly wondered if they were under the same mistaken delusion as Minerva.

Coming to a complete stop, he had to come clean to himself that Minerva's delusion was at least half based in truth. If he had to be completely truthful, he did feel more than he should for the girl. He would deny it with his last breath, but he knew that she was no longer a child and hadn't been for quite some while. But even while he admitted all this to himself, he knew that nothing would ever come of it. He knew that no matter what Minerva saw, her assessment of the situation was incorrect, it was a one sided affection and he knew that was all that it was ever going to be. It was just impossible that Granger could ever feel anything for him other than what polite manners would dictate; it was more probable that she hated him.

The argument with himself had taken more out of him than he had expected. He could now feel the cold in the air and decided that it was time to head back to his chambers for the night. The celebration would probably carry on better without him, anyways. Before he could turn from the garden to go back inside, he heard the footsteps alerting him that his privacy was about to be intruded upon. He stiffened further when he heard the intruder stop nearby, clearly not seeing him. He made to walk away, when he heard the person sigh, a sigh that he recognized.