A/N: FINALLY! Here it is. I wrote it over the course of a couple of days and then revised it only once, so bear with me. Sorry it took so long, school's been a bit busy. I have a few plot bunnies floating around in my head for some one-shots and two decently long fics.

I feel like Hermione might have been a bit OOC but I'm not sure, it isn't too bad though so I hope you don't mind. She just doesn't strike me as someone who would make a first, impulsive move.

Review pleaseeeee!

I also have a Klaine fic posted if any of you are interested in that and then I also have Love Is Watching Someone Die which has a bunch of hits but no reviews and I just want some sort of feed back pleaseeeee. /shameless begging.

Hope you enjoy.

This will be the second to last chapter, hopefully everything will come together in the next chapter. Don't forget about our favorite terrible boyfriend Ron (who I ignored in this chapter because...I just did) and Lucius!

Thank you guys so much for reading these and everything. I really appreciate it. You are immensely wonderful! :D

Hermione woke with a start, wondering when and how she fell asleep. The last thing she remembered was being wrought with guilt and pondering how much sleep she'd actually get that night. Apparently she'd get a decent amount, since when she looked at her watch (she wore a muggle one out of habit) she realized she'd also slept late. She'd already missed breakfast and would miss the beginning of potions if she didn't hurry. Hermione dressed quickly, threw her hair up into a artfully disheveled bun and ran down to potions, grabbing her bag on the way out. In all the hustle she didn't notice the letter at her bedside, nor the person waiting for her in the common room.

Hermione was just about to open the portrait when a hand suddenly grabbed hers. After years of being at war, she still reacted immediately and had her wand pointed at her would be attacker ready to hex - Harry? He backed away cautiously, like a scared child at the zoo.

"Hey 'Mione", he said slowly, as if she was an animal waiting to strike. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry I didn't realize it was you!" she replied hastily.

"Ron told me about your fight…" Harry began, when he was cut off by a dejected sigh from Hermione, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"He was pretty broken up about it, 'Mione. Did you get his letter?"

"What letter?"

"It was next to your bed…"

"Oh, I must have been in a hurry to get out", she explained, "we should still be in a hurry actually…we're gonna be late for potions."

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him out of the room and down the corridor. Yes, Harry was her best friend, but mostly, he was Ron's best friend. And she knew that the letter would be an apology for last night, but maybe it wasn't enough anymore. And she certainly couldn't tell Harry that, or of her decision that she had yet to acknowledge she'd really made, or of her encounter with Professor Snape. Definitely not the last one. Absolutely not. Harry had gotten over his animosity towards their heroic Professor however Hermione doubted that Harry would accept her feeling anything more than respect and perhaps a twinge of gratitude towards the former, and sometimes currently, greasy git of the dungeons.

Severus Snape woke up, startled that he had slept so well. If his mind was going to be occupied by her, at least he'd get to sleep well also. Snape pondered this little nugget of information until he realized that his first thought of the day had been about her, and then his contented mood went out the window as he went about his morning ministrations angrily, throwing things just for the sake of throwing them. Why he was so enraged even he didn't know, but here he was throwing and slamming things. She was just a silly little girl who he showed a bit of heart towards, nothing to get worked up about. Right? He pondered this rational thought as he shoved his bedside reading material off his bedside table.

He didn't even think to check the clock as he got ready, until the toothpaste he threw while he was brushing his teeth (yes, he actually did brush his teeth) hit near the clock and drew his attention to it. He was late. Very, very late and if he didn't hurry he would be late for his own class. And her class. What if she thought he was avoiding her? There he went again, thinking about her. Goddamn, he repeated over in his mind as his toothbrush hit the wall next to the clock, and then so did his toothbrush holder (a green Slytherin snake that was a little to adorable for his taste anyway). Was he really this pathetically lonely that one touch from a woman would send him into a state such as this, feeling like a love sick teenager? Disgusting.

As he ran to to the classroom Snape cursed himself internally for letting himself get distracted and be late and have feelings. Mostly he was cursing the feelings part. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice the students reaching the end of the corridor until he ran straight into one of them. He was suddenly on the floor, sprawled unceremoniously next to the one and only Gryffindor princess. Of course. Snape lived in a world where things like this happened to him, because a world where good things happen to him clearly doesn't exist.

"Oh no! Professor Snape, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" He smirked at her obvious discomfort and overall flustered appearance. If he was going to be miserable at least he could take comfort in she at least wasn't overly chipper. And apparently she was late too.

"Please, don't worry Miss. Granger, I'm sure I'll recover just fine", he drawled enjoying the flush on her face far too much. She seemed mesmerized by him which was…peculiar in the least. He was torn between being amused and disgusted and just overall angry again yet he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from her face. Their moment was disrupted by Harry Potter, the boy-that-ruins-moments. Not that Snape particularly cared about having a moment anyway.

"Um…excuse me…but…maybe we should go to class…", Harry interjected awkwardly, making a mental note to ask Hermione what that had been about. He'd never seen her so red nor had he ever seen Snape so un-scowling and hard to read.

"Of course, Potter", Snape replied, regaining his composure, "Let us go. And I'll let you go first so you're not late." Hermione and Harry spun their heads around in surprise at this, while Snape was a little surprised at himself. "Ten points from Gryffindor, each", of course, they didn't get off that easily.

As they walked in front of him, Snape let his mind wander. She truly had him stumped. Not to mention his own feelings were in torment. He had to know how he felt about her, and how she felt about him. He wasn't going to waste his time wondering about these feelings and pining over someone he might not even care about nor have feelings for him.

Lost in thought he didn't realize that he was staring at Hermione, or that she had noticed. He still didn't notice when he studied her, strictly objectively and from an artistic point of view, with an approving look from feet to head, until he met her eyes. Snape wasn't aware that he could blush, but that day both she and him realized how possible it was.

Hermione appeared lost in thought to Harry, and it was clear she wasn't saying anything. They were walking in silence when she felt eyes on her, and she turned around to see Professor Snape staring at her. He was unaware that she had noticed, and was watching her. As he looked up, her eyes met his and he turned bright red. Who knew Professor Snape could blush?

After they got in their seats, the doors slammed open, and the instructions for the day appeared on the board. "Amortentia" he began, only to be interrupted by a hand of, who else? "To answer Miss. Granger's question that I know she's bursting to ask, is yes, I know that you brewed this already however, one must remember all potions that you have brewed in the past, even one as obscure as this. This is a test. Now go to work." Her hand lowered, and she began working diligently.

Snape sat down at his desk, and opened a drawer to start grading essays that he had received yesterday and in all the excitement had forgotten to grade last night. However, when he reached into his drawer he felt something strange in his hands.

Opening the drawer further he saw that it was Miss. Granger's book from last night that he had intended to return to her. He smirked to himself, his face hidden by a wall of hair. Well, he'll find the answer he's looking for sooner than he thought.

As she worked on her potion Snape watched her, since his mind was most certaintly not on the essays he was pretending to grade, she meticulously cut the ingredients and carefully mixed them in. He knew she was brilliant, albeit annoying, but there was a difference between brilliance and talent. Until today he never realized how truly talented she was. Only when Longbottom broke something was Snape snapped out of his reverie and reminded that he had appearances to keep up.

"Five points from Gryffindor for carelessness, Longbottom" Snape snapped from his desk without looking up, the scowl that seemed to be permanently fixed upon his face appearing again. As the class came to a close he walked around the room looking at the finished potions, deducting points, and waiting for the students to bottle them so he could grade them.

Snape bent closer to inspect a Slytherin's potion when he caught a whiff of an interest scent that could only be the student's potion. He'd been avoiding this all class, even though he knew that what precisely what he was avoiding was also the true reason he made the class make the potion.

'Does it smell like Lily?' was all Snape had thought about as he roamed the class room, being careful not to get too close. And now here he was, smelling it. And it smelled…different. Different, as in not like Lily. It smelt like books and lavender and soap. Innocence and spring and…wait. It didn't smell like Lily. But it did smell like another Gryffindor that he knew.

Hermione was finishing up her potion, when her curiosity got the best of her. She poured it into the potion vial and raised it to her nose, the scent filling her nostrils. It took a moment, but when she fully realized what she was smelling, she almost fainted.

It wasn't Ron. At one point it had been, but now it smelled only of books and soap and potion ingredients. It reminded her of intelligent conversations and comfort and the color green….wait. Oh no. No, no, no. Crush, perhaps. Infatuation? Slight interest? But love? She couldn't possibly be in love with Professor Snape, could she? Apparently she could.

With wide eyes, Hermione stared at her Professor, taking in his appearance and gait. The slightly sexy way his hips swung when he walked…

"Miss Granger! I see you are a bit distracted today. This classroom is no place for day-dreaming. 10 points from Gryffindor, and please see me after class" Hermione was snapped out of her admiration by his silky voice…taking away points. She was too embarrassed to even register the injustice that she usually would have felt, and instead continued to bottle her potion to hide the blush on her cheeks.

At the end of the class the potions were delivered to the front of the room, however Hermione waited so she would be the last one. Vaguely wondering why she was staying after, she placed her potion carefully on the desk. Only after the potion was safely on the desk did she dare to look up at her professor, expecting to see anger and coldness in his onyx eyes. Instead they looked at her with curiosity, and interest.

"You wanted to speak to me Professor?" Hermione started timidly, wondering how this uncharted territory would go, especially with the new knowledge of her feelings for him. She didn't have any space left in her brain to be distraught over this fact, only confused. When did she fall in love with him? How? Was it last night? Can you love someone after one encounter? Was it a gradual thing, spurned out of her respect and admiration of his intelligence? And somewhere, deep inside a little voice was saying 'What about Ron?'. She promptly told that voice to shut up.

Hermione had been so lost in her train of thought that she didn't realize Snape had been talking to her, and was now slowly waving his hand in front of her face.

"Miss Granger?" he asked, getting her attention, "Are you okay?" Snape pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit, "Maybe you should sit down…"

"I'm sorry Professor…I was just…" she began, trailing off before she could put her foot in her mouth, the usual result when she let words spill out of her mouth before she knew what they would be, "I was preoccupied, thinking about something" she explained "…Sir" she added for good measure.

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted before she could continue talking herself in circles, "I have your book. It appears that you left it in the library after our encounter last night." Hermione was startled, not expecting him to be kind enough to return the book to her, and discretely as to not bring up what occurred in the library. Maybe she should bring up what happened? Oh, he was talking again…

"I hope everything is alright with you and the issue that you had last night has since been resolved" he continued, uncomfortably. He must not have much experience with this, Hermione thought to herself, before she noticed she was being ushered to the door. Snape started to speak to her, "I'll see you in class tomorrow" he started, as he all but shoved her awkwardly out the door. "Professor…", how was she going to say this? 'I love you, do you love me?' 'What happened last night?' 'Is there something between us?'.

Instead of saying anything Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at him. Both of their hands were on her book, and they were standing close to each other. She put her other hand on top of his and took another step towards him, closing the already small gap between them. She feared that if she opened her mouth to talk nothing would come out and she would stand there, gaping at him like a fish. Instead she stared at him, not realizing how attractive he really was until this moment. She pushed up on her toes, and suddenly their faces were merely a hair's width apart.

She was close enough for him to kiss her, which surely must have been her intention. Snape was in shock. No one had voluntarily kissed him or put herself in that position since he was a student himself, and yet, here Hermione was putting herself at his mercy. He could turn away in disgust and hope to bury his feelings and everything else, just ignore it all, ignore her. But the war was over, and he didn't have to worry about those that got close to him anymore. She deserved to not be torn apart by yet another man in her life. So he took the leap, as minute as it seemed to move his face forward not even half an inch.

He pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, even though for all he knew it could have been her that closed the final gap between them. The kiss deepened and he grasped her cheek, marveling in how truly wonderful this felt. They broke apart after what seemed like either eternity or a fleeting moment, he couldn't distinguish between the two at this moment. When he opened his eyes, hers were still closed, and he ran his finger across her closed eyelid, her beautiful eyelashes fanned out on her porcelain skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled a small smile, looking at him lovingly and purely unguarded. Suddenly she turned red, her emotions clear on her face, of confusion and shame and unknowing.

"I'm sorry Professor" she said quietly, before she turned and fled from his room, up to the common room. Snape was left in the classroom feeling alone and confused and shocked. He slowly sat down at his desk, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened and how somewhere between her touching his hand and fleeing his room he'd stopped thinking of her as Miss Granger and began thinking of her as Hermione.

And at the same time, unbeknownst to him, she was pondering how he was no longer Professor, or Snape, but instead he was Severus.