A/N: Sorry this took me a while. Real life likes to get in the way sometimes. I'll update more often from now on, I promise!

She paused before the Great Hall to make sure her skirt was straight and her top was buttoned properly. She went through the doors and looked up at the sky. A beautiful, clear, and probably very warm morning. Three of the four house tables had been pushed against the walls, the fourth sat in the middle of the room. Most of her colleagues were there already, several had heaping plates of food in front of them already, a couple were mostly finished.

Snape sat in the middle between Hagrid and McGonagall, looking extremely unhappy with his current position. He had taken it to avoid his normal place, which was right across the table from Hermione. As a way to justify his unusual move he had managed to get Hagrid talking practically non stop about the baby Hippogriffs that he had managed to breed recently. He was looking as bored as a group of third years in Binn's class.

Hermione tried to catch the Potion's professor's eye, but he seemed to be keeping them pointedly on Hagrid. She needed to talk to him. She needed to understand his attraction to her.

Sighing she took her normal spot at the end of the table, next to the newest professor, Neville Longbottom.

"How's it going, Hermione?" Neville asked, passing her a platter of eggs.

"Pretty good, Neville, and you?"

"I'm having problems with the lesson plans for the third years. Professor Sprout liked to jump right into things, but she told me the second years last year were having a little bit of difficulty."

"Have you considered reviewing something easy to help get them back in the swing of things?"

Neville thought for a moment. "That would probably work. I think I have enough Tentacula to go around. That seems easy enough, right?"

Hermione smiled. Even if it was a very difficult plant Neville would find it easy to work with. Neville was almost more adept with plants than Snape was with potions, and that was saying something. They talked for a few minutes about the best way to fit the old material in with the new.

"I could kiss you Hermione, the amount of help you've given me," Neville blushed.

"No offense, Neville, but I'd prefer a hug."

"Of course," Neville gave her a tight hug. Then he shoveled a few more bites of food into his mouth before running off to alter his lesson plans. His first day of classes was in two days, and he was as obsessive as Hermione was about getting it right.

"Hermione," Firenze said, as she smiled at Neville's retreating back. "Is there something the matter?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's head whipped towards the centaur in shock. She had done nothing but smile since sitting down.

"You lingered before coming into the Great Hall, and you seemed to be distracted before sitting. I know how much stress the start of term causes."

"I'm fine. Just the usual pre-term jitters, I guess."

"Well the stars have indicated a calm year relative to those past."

Hermione gave a skeptical look toward Firenze. "Let's see, ten years ago Voldemort happened to be running around having a whole lot of fun. Nine years ago there was all out war. Something tells me that compared to those years, any where there aren't people out to kill me is relatively calm."

Firenze chuckled. "I was speaking in terms of academics, but I can see your point completely."

"Well, then I'd have to counter by saying that eleven years ago marked the end of a six-year reign of terror by Fred and George Weasley."

Firenze smiled again. "I guess there is that. I guess it is difficult to compare to the past. I was just trying to alleviate any nervousness you feel about the year."

"Trust me, Firenze, a group of new first years does not make me nervous."

"I have noticed you spending more time with Severus. Aren't planning on picking up a bit of his teaching style?"

"Never in my life would I want to be anything like Severus Snape."

_________________________________________

"An' that's how I managed ter get the fourth foal o' the season," Hagrid finished proudly.

"Fascinating," Snape answered, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Hermione, who was having an animated discussion with Neville Longbottom. No doubt her inclination for helping Neville out with any little problem he was having. Neville suddenly leaned forward and pulled Hermione in for a tight hug.

Snape felt a surge of jealousy rush through him. Is that why Hermione became suddenly hesitant to be around him? She had some unnatural crush on Neville Longbottom? No, this hug was more friendly. A 'thank you for saving my ass again Hermione' hug. Still, the bumbling idiot might be a threat.

'Threat?' his brain laughed at him. 'To what, your non-existent relationship with, quite possibly, the smartest witch you ever met? You're avoiding her, you idiot.'

It took every ounce of his willpower not to roll his eyes at himself. Hagrid was still babbling on about Hippogriffs or whatever, and the oaf didn't have the social skills to realize that his audience had no interest in the conversation whatsoever, so it was a great ruse.

Hermione moved on to talking to Firenze. No 'threat' there. Firenze was queerer than Dumbledore's sparkling purple New Years hat. Hell, Firenze was queerer than Dumbledore's whole damn wardrobe.

Why was he so obsessed with the woman?

He looked down at his plate to find it thankfully devoid of any remaining food. When Hagrid took a moment to breathe Snape excused himself and retreated to the school's storeroom to pick up a few more supplies for the Potions lab. Since there were now two Potions teachers, there was one unified storeroom for the more popular ingredients. Despite the other professor's protests the storeroom was placed in the dungeons, much closer to Snape's classroom than his chosen third-floor room. Despite the whole wizarding world's feelings towards him, Minerva McGonagall knew the truth about him and he still held her favor.

Neville jumped about three feet in the air as he burst into the storeroom.

"P-p-professor Snape," he stammered, before picking up the crushed Flobberworm larvae he had spilled across the floor when his least-favorite person had suddenly shown up next to him.

"Longbottom!" he barked, before realizing that he had no control over the man in front of him. Not only did he have no control, but the man was now considered a colleague of all things.

"I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry," the stammering worsened as Neville had to face Snape's bad side. "I was just trying to make a fertilizer..."

Snape waved his wand and the Flobberworm larvae returned themselves to their jar. "You need to get your wand out for these things. They're delicate, you'll crush them beyond use," Snape murmured.

Neville nodded a little too enthusiastically. He moved to hurry from the room, but Snape moved to block him.

"Is there something else you need, Professor?" Neville asked, unable to mask the fear in his voice.

"In fact, there is, Longbottom," Snape sneered, motioning towards a chair that had appeared behind Neville. Neville lowered himself upon it as though it was about to cause him great pain.

"Tell me, Longbottom," Snape had to concentrate to keep his emotions from his voice. "Tell me everything you know about Hermione Granger."

___________________________________________________

Hermione had spent all day making an inventory of everything in the Charms closet. Once inventoried, everything was shrunk down and placed extremely carefully in the storage closet. Anything that needed cleaning or repaired was done so with all due attention. Even though she had left the class as neat as possible when she left last year, it was second nature for her to make sure everything was perfect before the start of term. And with a week to go she was looking forward to getting everything done and taking a few days off to relax.

As she entered her chamber she slipped her shoes off and placed her aching feet into a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers. Even though she was a strong, independent woman nothing beats a good pair of slippers at the end of a long day.

There were two notes sitting on her desk. Even from across the room she recognized the untidy scrawl of Harry Potter. The thickness of the envelope made her sure there were some pictures from some far-away land where Harry was out playing Quidditch. America was the destination for about a month. Phoenix, Chicago, and New York, then off to Disney World with Ginny for a fifth honeymoon in two years. He made sure to take pictures everywhere he went, and would bring her back travel brochures and information about places he visited so Hermione could do research for her later travels.

She smiled and moved Harry's letter aside. Below was another letter. This one bore a stamp even though it didn't go through the post office. Jean Granger was new to the owl-post thing, Hermione had taught her over the summer, and no matter how many times Hermione told her that postage wasn't needed on wizarding mail Jean never sent a letter sans stamp.

Hermione sighed, took the letter from her mother and sat in the oversized chair in front of her fireplace. She tore the envelope open, and slipped out the contents.

Dearest Hermione,

I hope you are doing well in preparing for the upcoming term. Your father and I are so proud of you! I was wondering if you would like to come visit me this weekend. Your father is off on a golf outing with his brother, and we'll have the house all to ourselves. I hope this letter gets to you in time. I don't know how quickly owl post gets there. Let me know.

Love,

Mom

Hermione frowned. She had planned on spending her last free weekend at home, relaxing, maybe reading, maybe head to Hogsmede for a few hours. She really didn't feel like going home, but her mother did get lonely. Ever since they found out Hermione was a witch their paths had diverged somewhat, and after Hermione got her job they had even less time to spend together. She would turn her mother down, but she needed a few minutes to compose a nice letter.

She went to her bedroom thinking a quick nap before dinner was in order. She stopped short when she looked down at her plush pillow. Lying atop the pink pillowcase was a single white flower. A Gardenia. She picked up the fragrant flower and stared at it for a few moments. She knew that there was some meaning behind it, but besides those silly little meanings behind different colored roses, her knowledge of what different flowers stood for was pretty limited.

So she headed off to the library, after lying the flower gently on her bookshelf. She immediately rushed to the Muggle section. It took her several minutes to locate a book on Muggle florists, and she quickly flipped through it until she found the page she wanted. Her finger flew down a list of flowers and their meanings until she found the one she wanted. She gasped as she read the short meaning:

"I love you in secret," she whispered.

Could it be? No, no way he knew anything about flowers, let alone their meanings. It was more likely to be Neville. But she knew Neville didn't feel that way about her. There was only one person...

She sighed and closed the book. There was only one place a girl could go to get the type of advice she needed. Looks like the trip to her mother's was on.

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