Chapter 2

Hermione walked as quickly and quietly as her feet would carry her down the cold dungeon corridor, away from the closed door of Snape's Potions classroom. Her chest heaved with her own deep breathing, borne of surprise at her own daring, and the need to put as much distance as possible between herself and Hogwarts most feared professor whom she had just manhandled without invitation or permission.

She wasn't sure what on earth had possessed her to touch him in that manner, nor to use a modified homework-correcting spell of her own invention to mark the pile of essays that had been sitting in front of him, but what she did not feel was any regret. Her fingertips felt alive where they had been touching his warm skin.

All she knew was that as soon as she entered the dim classroom and saw her now former professor slumped back in his chair, his face etched with a map of worry lines, his body held tense even at rest, she had felt a rush of sympathy and regret at the fate that had befallen this powerful wizard. No matter that he had spent most of her schooldays terrorising most every child that crossed his path, the truth was now out, how he had stoically and selflessly protected them all, placing himself in danger time and time again, to receive only hate and disrespect in return.

As she crossed the room she had looked upon his exhausted face and been overcome with the need to just do something for him. Not for thanks or reward, just to give something to this wizard who had given all he had and more. She had noted the pile of barely-started marking with the dipped red quill atop and had resolved to whizz her way through it at lightning speed; that was one way she could be of practical assistance.

After that, her reasoning became slightly skewed. She knew full well that Snape could not possibly be truly asleep. No doubt he had heard her as she opened the classroom door, and couldn't be bothered to talk to her so was feigning sleep. She had stepped lightly around the desk to stand next to him, and gazed upon his creased brow, wanting to erase the hateful lines that marred his strong features. Without really thinking about what she was doing, she had lifted her hand and begun to massage the sensitive skin between his eyebrows, ironing out the crease and the tension, as she had seen her mother do for her father many times when he had been stressed.

Meeting with no resistance she had continued to add fingers until she was giving attention to his whole forehead, raking her hands back through his hair. She was very sure that he did not realise the quiet but deep sighs of pleasure he was exhaling as she continued, and it made her shiver to know she was eliciting this reaction from him.

She knew that she would have to stop, that this little moment of bliss could not continue indefinitely, so after saying the words of thanks she had planned, and plenty more that had not been planned, she took her leave and softly scampered from the room.

She felt that she could not breathe properly until she was back in the large dormitory that she shared with the other returning girls of her age. So as not to disturb the long-standing dormitory allocations in the House common rooms, the returners had been housed together in two large dorms, one male, one female, next to the Prefects bathroom of which they had full access.

She had no former Gryffindor dorm-mates with her. Lavender Brown had been mauled to death by Fenrir Greyback in the final battle, and Parvati Patil had opted not to return to Hogwarts. Out of the Gryffindor boys, only Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas had returned. She was now sharing with a mixture of girls her age, made up of the returning girls from the four Houses. She had spent most time with the former Hufflepuffs Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, not that she mixed that much at all however, preferring to spend her time in the quiet of the library, studying and working to get the best possible results she could. She needed to pass her exams, and move on.

Hogwarts was a different place without Harry and Ron. Whilst she had to concede it was much more peaceful without the threat of Lord Voldemort hanging over them, she missed the many fun and carefree times she'd enjoyed together here with her two best friends.

Both were taking a year off and playing professional Quidditch and Harry had been snapped up as Seeker by the Wimborne Wasps. He still cherished an ambition to become an Auror, and his training would start the following September. His relationship with Ginny was stronger than ever, and they had plans to live together in Grimmauld Place after Ginny had completed her seventh year at Hogwarts.

Ron was less organised as regards his future, he was playing everything by ear, seeing what happened. After a couple of months of frantic snogging sessions in a darkened Weasley living room after the final battle, Hermione and Ron had realised that whilst they were excellent friends, a deeper relationship between them was never really going to go anywhere. Ron wanted to coast and enjoy, Hermione wanted to study and achieve. Ron liked noise, Hermione liked quiet. Whilst there was a physical attraction there, neither had made a move beyond prolonged kissing - the spark just didn't seem hot enough.

They had ceased their romantic relationship after a short talk in the garden one afternoon, and now their friendship was pretty much as it always had been, lots of irresponsible behaviour from Ron, and much eye-rolling from Hermione. Both of them had been secretly relieved, and Harry most of all so.

She sat down on her four-poster bed for the final time. Her trunk was packed and Mr Weasley would shortly be here to collect her. It had been agreed that after completing her exams she would live at The Burrow for a few months while Ron and Harry were still away, and then after the summer when Ginny had finished her exams, all four of them would move into Grimmauld Place. None of them felt like living in the sinister old Black house alone, least of all Hermione.

She had secured a junior level position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry, and was due to start after the Christmas holidays. She would travel to work at the Ministry with Arthur via the Floo network that was connected to The Burrow.

Hermione felt a pang of loss for her parents, as she did often. Her Obliviate and their subsequent emigration to Australia had kept them safe during the war, by removing all knowledge of their witch daughter from their lives. In the future she hoped to travel to Australia to seek them out, not necessarily to try and reverse the spell, but certainly to see if they were happy and settled. Ron, Harry and the Weasleys were her family now.

The last four months at Hogwarts had been strange and confusing. Returning in September, those students who had missed sitting their NEWTs still sat at their House tables, no longer required to wear uniform but instead wore plain office wear covered by black work robes with a pin badge to denote their house. Hermione had sat at the Gryffindor table at the Welcome Feast with Neville and Dean and felt like bursting into tears – most unlike her.

The amount of places that had been left empty by the sheer number of students killed during the battle sent a poignant pervasion of grief through everyone. Hermione half-expected to see Colin Creevey bouncing around with his ubiquitous camera, before remembering she had been conversing with his ghost only minutes previously. Colin had opted to stay at Hogwarts for the present time, rather than going on.

Professor McGonagall, as the new Headmistress, had overseen the Sorting of the new students before introducing the new and returning members of staff. Hermione remembered being shocked at the sight of Professor Snape, looking pale and haunted in his usual black at the top table. She had heard via the court reports that he had barely survived the final battle, and that he had been exonerated of any charges of war crimes. She had never in a million years expected him to return to Hogwarts following his disastrous year as Headmaster.

Indeed some of those students who had been tortured during his tenure, including Ginny and Neville, looked most uncomfortable at the presence of the feared professor. Snape, for his part, looked wretched and as if he would rather be anywhere else but at the Welcome Feast, awaiting a new year of teaching Potions. Why was he here?

She wondered if he had anywhere else to go and the realisation that he probably did not, hit her like a punch in the gut. She knew he was unmarried with no children, and that his parents had died many years previously. Did he even have a house? What did he do outside of Hogwarts? Did he have friends? She could not imagine him socialising.

These questions led to a train of thought and wondering that persisted during her final term at Hogwarts. She found herself fascinated by the dour, taciturn man, realising that she knew absolutely nothing about him beyond what his carefully selected pensieve memories had shown and been widely reported.

His apparent unease at returning to Hogwarts could not be seen in the classroom, where his manner of teaching was as strict and unrelenting as ever.

She wondered what he did when his working day was over. She wondered what thoughts danced through his dreams at night. She wondered if he had grander plans for the future or if he was here, simply marking time in a fog of depression until he retired or died. Hermione Granger loved a puzzle to solve and Professor Snape was an enigma that required the work of a serious codebreaker.

In short, she had become obsessed with Severus Snape.

As she levitated her heavy trunk to set it moving down to the entrance hall to meet Arthur, she mused that it was extremely fortunate that she had not noticed until today what her inquisitive obsession had become. A crush.

How completely embarrassing for a great mind like hers to be caught fancying her teacher. And not just any teacher, the sullen bat of the dungeon, reviled and feared.

She had not realised that her feelings went any deeper than being simply damn nosey until she had touched him. The heat of his skin felt like it was threatening to melt her sensitive fingertips and she'd had to restrain herself from intruding on his person more than she already had. The sighs of pleasure that he had breathed out as she gently massaged his scalp and forehead had gone straight to the seat of her pants, eliciting a warm throb that she had no experience of how to handle.

Thank goodness she was leaving before she embarrassed herself further.

She arrived in the entrance hall levitating the heavy trunk and was met with a warm embrace from Arthur Weasley.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" he asked her, smiling.

She grinned and nodded, turning to Professor McGonagall who had come to see her off, and warmly hugged the older witch.

"Thank you, Professor. For everything." She lightly kissed the cheek of her admired Head of House.

"Hermione, you are welcome at Hogwarts anytime. I will be happy to hear from you and I look forward to reading about what will surely be an illustrious career within the Ministry," McGonagall replied.

They hugged tightly again, and Hermione followed Arthur out of the main door, where he had taken over the levitation of her trunk as they walked down the long path towards the boar-topped gates. Arthur chattered away about how Molly had arranged Bill's old room for her, and how excited she was to having Hermione living with them.

Hermione looked around the dark Hogwarts grounds for the last time as a student. She marvelled at the enormous Black Lake, its inky surface sparkling in the moonlight. She looked up at the towers looming above them, one of them her beloved Gryffindor Tower where she had albeit grown up. She could see the light from the kitchens as the army of house-elves prepared the students supper. She looked down the hill to Hagrid's hut, where smoke chuntered merrily from the chimney and a rosy glow from his hearth fire lit the windows.

Finally she looked to the very foundations of the building where the seam of the dungeons would be. It was too dark to see any of the windows. Inside those stone walls was the unsolved mystery of a dark wizard who looked to be entirely alone in the world. She knew what Severus Snape had been. Her burning question was; who was he now?