Breakfast was an hour later than during term and she slept in gratefully. It was nice to go to the meal without having to put on a tie or a cloak. She wore jeans and a thick, knit sweater that her mum had sent. It was green, very dark, and she rarely wore it but it was the holidays and she didn't care to worry about house colors. The only place settings were at the high table and professor Sprout was the only one there, drinking an enormous cup of coffee with her eyes half closed.

"Am I to sit up here?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, yes dear, seemed cruel to segregate you," Sprout said, waving Hermione up the stairs to the seat next to her. "Coffee?" Hermione accepted a cup, adding some thick cream and a teaspoon of sugar. She sipped at it waiting for it to cool while the staff trickled in. McGonagall sat next to her, looking rather apologetic. Snape arrived last and sat on the far end of the table. Hermione didn't say much – Herbology wasn't on her schedule anymore and McGonagall was talking about the O.W.L.s with Flitwick on her other side. She ate her toast and a few bites of eggs but she kept stealing glances at Snape, wondering what he had planned for the day.

She'd also been thinking about what was keeping her in the castle. She thought maybe Voldemort planned to capture her but it seemed unlikely after having six years to do so – but she couldn't think of anything else. Harry swore he didn't know anything and she believed him.

Soon, the breakfast dishes were being cleared and the staff began to leave the great hall to do whatever it was that they did when they weren't teaching. Snape was still seated, nursing a tea pot and she moved down to sit next to him.

"Good morning," she greeted.

"Hmph," he said into his porcelain cup. "Rarely."

"Yes, well, I'm curious to know what you have planned," she said.

"Are you?" he asked. "How unlike you to be curious."

"Yes, yes, sarcasm and you," she said. "I'm bored, let's go."

"We'll go when I'm good and ready," he said.

"At least tell me what we're doing," she pestered.

"Brewing for Madame Pomfrey."

"Really?"

"We must first inventory her stock," he said. Hermione was pleased with this task – good, hard work always made the time pass. Madame Pomfrey, Snape had informed her, went away for the holidays to visit her brother and his family in Germany, so the infirmary was empty.

"What if someone gets injured?" she asked, as they entered the hospital wing.

"St. Mungo's by floo," he said.

They spent the morning sorting through Pomfrey's cupboards, disposing of expired contents, and taking note of what was there. By lunch time, they had finished and had sandwiches, eating them sitting on the crisp, white beds while making a brewing itinerary. Some things could be brewed in an hour, some in a day, one would take two weeks. It said a lot about her brewing skills that Snape allowed her to assist him. After lunch, they moved to his supply closet to inventory his stocks and she was surprised at the sheer amount of things that he had in there. The expense alone was phenomenal. She'd been in there before, briefly, to knick polyjuice ingredients but that was before she'd appreciated the value of good ingredients and she hadn't spent much time looking around. They were short a few things.

"I'll have to go to town," he murmured, making notations on his parchment with a pencil she'd had in her pocket. He'd scoffed at the Muggle writing tool but when he used the eraser, he'd asked to keep it.

"Hogsmeade?" she asked, thinking of her last minute Christmas shopping.

"I shouldn't be more than an hour," Snape said, rolling the parchment and tucking it into his robe.

"Oh," she said, realizing she wasn't invited.

"Sorry," he said. "I highly doubt Minerva would allow you to leave the grounds."

"Have you asked?" she said. "I'm perfectly safe with you."

"Well."

"Let's ask," she said. "Town sounds lovely." He scowled and she followed him, pleased, to the fireplace in his classroom. He threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames.

"Minerva McGonagall," he said. In a few moments, her face appeared in the flames.

"Yes?" she asked, sounding tired.

"Miss Granger wishes to accompany me to town," he said.

"Oh, I'm not sure about that," McGonagall said.

"Please!" Hermione whispered behind him.

"I'm perfectly capable of protecting her for an hour," he said.

"But you yourself heard the proph-"

"MINERVA! Yes or no?" he said, cutting her off at the quick.

"No," she snapped, realizing Hermione had been listening and her head disappeared. Snape stood, rubbed his knees, and looked over at Hermione who sat on a stool looking pale with her mouth hanging open.

"Unfortunate," he said.

"Is there… is there a prophecy about me?" she asked, not caring a bit about Hogsmeade any longer.

"Miss Granger," he began and she could see him trying to come up with something that would take them away from the current conversation.

"It would be very easy for me to walk out of the school gates and apparate home, so please give me a reason to stay," she said.

"If you do that, there is a very high chance you will be killed," he said.

"Why?"

"It's time we go speak to the headmistress," he said quietly. "I suspect she's expecting us now anyway." He was right, the gargoyle had already risen and the concrete steps were exposed. Hermione climbed them with Snape just behind her. McGonagall sat at the desk looking stern and vaguely guilty.

"We've got to tell her," Snape said, motioning for Hermione to take a seat, which she did.

"Obviously," McGonagall said. "Tell me, Miss Granger, what do you know about Professor Snape's return to Hogwarts?"

"You mean, about your name being cleared?" she asked, looking at him. He nodded. "Well, there was the pensieve that exonerated you and the prophecy but I haven't a clue as to what either said."

"You're right," McGonagall said. "There is a prophecy about you, Miss Granger, and you share it with professor Snape."

Hermione certainly hadn't expected this.

"What did it say? Is it in the department of mysteries with Harry's? Who prophesized it?" she asked and McGonagall addressed her questions in reverse order.

"Professor Trelawney," she said. "I know you have your… professional differences but her visions and prophecies tend to be real. Some of them. We have not notified the ministry archive as it is more useful to the Order as secret."

"So it's new," Hermione commented.

"Sybil prophesied after you arrived for your education here," McGonagall said. "Harry and you-know-who share a prophecy just as you two do."

"One must die while the other lives," Hermione murmured. "I can't imagine the same goes for…" she didn't want to say 'us' like she had some sort of claim on him or him on her or any otherwise.

"No," he said. "It isn't quite the same."

"May I hear it?" she asked. "I should like to draw my own conclusions."

Snape nodded and stood, gesturing for her to do the same, to face him. She was nearly a foot shorter than he was – he was over six feet and she wasn't much over five. He took out his wand and placed it to his temple, extracting a sliver strand meant for a pensieve. Instead, he brought the tip to her temple and she felt the memory slide into her consciousness. It was unsettling, having a memory that did not belong to her. She was seeing something through another's eyes. It was hard to explain why things were so different – proportions were wrong, colors seemed off slightly, but she saw everything clearly.

Sybil Trelawney with her head thrown back, her voice unnaturally low in her throat, her eyes only white, cloudy orbs in her head. She had to go blind to really see, it seemed.

Soon, the hard, warm tip of Snape's wand moved away from her head and the memory faded and stopped being her own. The silver strand returned to Snape's mind.

"What does restore and rebuild the royalty of Hogwarts Castle mean?" she asked.

"I'm the rehabilitated spy," Snape said, "and you're quite obviously the Gryffindor queen."

"Obviously? It could mean you, Professor McGonagall," Hermione argued.

"No, dear," she said. "The part about the fastening of hands for the greater stability of the race? That indicates a marriage."

Hermione blinked and stared and Snape knew she understood but he explained it anyway.

"The battle will happen here, probably, and damage the castle physically as well as metaphorically. Sybil predicted that you and a I will bear the responsibility of rebuilding and that, in some chain of events, we will wed – stabilizing the race because I'm a half-blood and you're Muggle born and it isn't another marriage of purebloods," he said.

"As well as ending, hopefully, the rift between your houses," McGonagall piped up.

"And the bit about the cat losing her 9th life?" Hermione asked, sadly.

"Don't you worry about that, Miss Granger," McGonagall said quickly.

"Recently…" Snape said, "This information has been passed on to the dark lord. His knowledge of your place in this war makes you a target."

"This prophecy existing at all predicts his failure," Hermione pointed out.

"He is not pleased," Snape said.

"With you, I'd imagine," Hermione said.

"No. I am out of his inner circle and my life is in danger as well. I can no longer work as a spy," he said.

"Is that why you've been, well, nice to me?" she asked. He didn't respond. "Professor, I respect you greatly but the idea of marriage is foreign and shocking."

"I agree," he said.

"Just because you are aware of this prophecy doesn't mean you are to change your behavior," McGonagall pointed out. "You are still his student, Miss Granger, and prophecies don't come with a time table."

"I understand," she said.

"So please stop trying to escape the castle," Snape said.

"Fair enough," she said. "You shouldn't leave either."

"I'm perfectly capable-" Snape said, raising his voice.

"You think you are indestructible-" Hermione shouted back.

"Enough!" McGonagall said. "You'll both stay. I will run your errands in town."

Hermione and Snape shot each other a foul look and Snape placed his list in McGonagall's outstretched hand.

"We can brew tomorrow," Snape said as they left the office.

"Fine," she snapped. He stalked back down to the dungeon with a flair of black fabric and she stalked up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room where she flopped on the sofa in front of the fire for a good forty-five minutes.

oooo

She didn't go down to dinner, instead choosing to lay in her bed with her face pressed into Crookshanks who purred loudly on her pillow. At 11:30, well after normal curfew, she decided to steal down to the kitchens. She tickled the pears and the frame opened, letting her into the warm, lit kitchen. She was surprised to see Snape sitting at the wooden table. A small elf approached her tentatively.

"Does the Miss wish for a plate too?" she asked in a high, squeaky voice. Snape turned and saw her with an expression of surprise.

"Please," Hermione said to the elf.

"Miss Granger," Snape greeted sourly.

"Professor," she acknowledged. "Did you skip dinner as well?"

"I did," he said. "And then I couldn't sleep."

"I couldn't either," she admitted. She sat next to him and the elf brought two plates heaped with food and two glasses of pumpkin juice.

"I was just going to take this," he said.

"Oh, all right."

"Bu since you're here, I'll stay."

"Fine," she said and they stayed seated. They ate with little conversation. She'd spent several hours imagining herself being Mrs. Snape and while it was jarring, it wasn't impossible. She also thought about the term 'queen of Gryffindor' and even though she was the top student of her house and most of the time, the school, she didn't exactly feel like royalty. Ginny came to mind, being an umpteenth generation of Gryffindor, a Leo astrologically, and Harry's girlfriend.

"What about Ginny Weasley?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up from the remains of his pork chop.

"Queen of Gryffindor."

"Her name came up, but…" he shrugged. "I could never imagine any sort of life with her."

"Oh. But you… with me?"

"I'm not very comfortable talking about this," he said.

"Please try," she said. "I've never been unsure about my future before."

"I cannot," he said, pushing his plate away. She felt a shot of anger enter her bloodstream and left the kitchen, left him hunched and alone.

Two hours later she still wasn't sleeping and the only light in her room came fro the tiny television playing a black and white American film from the 1940s. She was startled by a loud knocking at her portrait. She pulled on her robe and answered the door.

"I apologize for earlier," Snape said, looking as tired as she felt. She stepped aside and he entered tentatively. "What is that?"

"Muggle technology," she said, tiredly. "For entertainment."

"A television?" he asked.

"I charmed it."

"What are you watching?" he asked. She sat on the foot of her bed and patted the mattress and he sat as well, squinting to watch the moving picture.

"That's Katharine Hepburn," Hermione said. "And she's set to marry that oaf but she's really in love with Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant."

"How scandalous."

"She ends up ditching her fiancé and remarries her ex-husband," Hermione said. "So not too scandalous."

"I suppose not."

"I accept your apology," she said.

"Good." He looked over at her and watched her watch the television. The shoulder of her robe had slid and he saw the thin, white stripe of her nightgown against her skin. It was terribly inappropriate for him to be there and they both knew it. Her hair was in those thick braids again, sloppy and long and he reached out to pull on the bottom of one where it hung by her bicep. "You're too old for these."

"It's practical for sleeping," she said, looking at him.

"Are pretty white nightgowns made for practical purposes?" he asked, swallowing.

"I suppose not."

"I've known about this prophecy for five years," he admitted. "And now that you know too, it's hard to look at you."

"Please try," she said again but he was looking at her already, still touching her hair, running his thumb along the elastic band that held it.

"I should go," he said.

"I'm scared. It's dark and I'm tired of being alone and tired of being nervous and frightened."

"It's too early for that, still," he assured her.

"Will you stay?"

"Hermione-"

"Until I fall asleep?" she asked. He nodded once and she crawled into the bed and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. "No one is here," she reminded him.

So, throwing caution to the wind, he toed off his boots and laid back against the other pillow stiffly, fully clothed and above the covers. She closed her eyes and he waited.

She woke up, briefly, still yet before the sun rose because she was cold. She was under the covers and so she scooted toward Snape who was sleeping heavily beside her. She was surprised he hadn't gone but she pressed against him, pushing her head against his shoulder and slid her toes under his legs. When she woke again it was to use the toilet and the sky was just approaching early morning. Upon her absence, Snape had turned onto his stomach and pressed his face into her pillow where her head had been. She stood and watched him, scratching her bare leg with her socked toe. She'd shed her robe in the bathroom because she was too warm and now she was only in her nightgown but she was still bleary eyed. She climbed back onto the bed, her side more cramped now that he'd shifted, but didn't slip under the duvet because sometime during the night the elves had stoked the fire. Her legs were bare from knee to ankle and she faced away from him, bending her knees, her head on the very edge of the pillow. She was so close to him, though not touching him and when she closed her eyes, it was hard to sleep.

oooo

Snape woke up for the strangest reason – he felt very comfortable. He was warm and well-rested and his muscles were like mush. His arm was around Hermione's waist and he knew this, knew it was wrong, but his lips were resting against her shoulder and he thought she was awake because she was so still. He pulled his mouth back and she turned her head a little, not so she could see him but so he could see her.

"When we're married, will you still sleep so kindly with me?" she asked softly, though her voice was crisp in the quiet room.

"Yes," he said and she placed her hand against his on her hip. It was past time for his to leave so he sat up and tried to smooth his wrinkled clothes. She sat up also, crossing her arms across her breasts. "We can start to brew today after breakfast."

"All right," she said, though she looked ill-prepared to go on like nothing had happened. "Tomorrow is Christmas."

"Yes. We'll take the day off. There is still a feast, even though it's only us and you."

"I'll be lonely."

"Perhaps," he said. She watched him put on his shoes.

"Thank you," she said. He nodded and she watched him go.

oooo

After breakfast, they walked down to his lab to find that McGonagall had left the required ingredients and she watched him begin to set up, careful not to get in his way. Finally, he motioned for her to approach the table and they started preparing the ingredients with Hermione on the knife and Snape on the Mortar and Pestle. Their movements were precise and focused and only when that step was finished did Hermione speak.

"If anyone were to find out about last night, would I get expelled?"

Snape didn't answer right away, instead lighting all the burners beneath her cauldrons.

"No. Minerva is prepared to turn a blind eye in deference to the prophecy."

"Is that right?" she asked.

"Everything changes, Hermione, even the rules," he explained.

"All right. Then you'll come again tonight?" He was impressed and surprised at her boldness.

"Perhaps," he said. "We'll see."

oooo

In her room, alone, she knew Christmas eve was in full swing either at The Burrow or 12 Grimmauld Place but the ache to be out of the castle had begun to dull. She still felt unsure about her future but she at least felt as if she had a purpose and that was comforting on some level. She had just come from the shower when he knocked and she let him in. His arrival was much more thrilling this time because it was on purpose and she received him like a woman, not a girl. He came late so there wouldn't be time to idly fill and she was glad. She was tired from being in the lab all day and when he came, she lowered the lights and he removed not only his shoes but his frockcoat and vest and she removed her robe and they both got into bed – under the duvet this time – with a few inches between them, like a marriage bed. Hermione knew she would never tell Harry or Ron about this moment because it was too unbelievable. They would laugh or yell and either would anger her.

"Goodnight," she said and he put the lights to darkness.

"Goodnight," he echoed and she heard him swallow and she tried not to move because she didn't want to disturb him. A few thick minutes passed and then she turned on her side to face him. He looked over at her and nodded a little, giving her permission to scoot into him and put her head against his shoulder. He lifted his arm around her and she curled into him. "Better?" he asked.

"Yes."

He was warm and the feeling of his pulse against her skin lulled her to sleep.

Sometime in the night, snow began to fall in earnest, leaving a thick white strip on her windowsill and frost on her windowpanes. Inside the room was warm and they slept through the night. Snape woke first at the seven am chiming of the bells because he was not used to being so close to them. They woke him out of the fog of sleep slowly and he squirmed slightly, upsetting Hermione who stretched and opened her eyes.

"It's Christmas," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"It's only seven, go back to sleep."

But once she woke up, that was it. He was already beginning to sink back under when he felt her fingers begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, working from the top down.

"Be careful," he warned.

"I'm curious. If we are to be married, I'd like to know what I'm in for," she explained.

"I don't want to get you into anymore trouble that I already have."

She wasn't sure if he meant the prophecy, the sleeping, he detentions, or years of house points but she didn't care.

"Even I can't control my hormones," she said. He couldn't be expected to resist that and so she peeled back the panels of his shirt to reveal is pale chest. "Now what?"

"Oh please tell me you've done this before," he groaned.

"Yes…and no," she said, sitting back.

"Which means?"

"While I technically retain my virginity, I am not completely without experience," she said. "I was raised to… save myself for my wedding night."

"How pious," he said.

"Don't make me feel bad," she said, frowning. "It's obviously going to be you, so you should be pleased."

"I haven't actually asked you, you know," he said.

"Oh," she said. "I suppose you're right."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he said and touched her forearm. "Come on, it's Christmas and I'm sure Minerva wants to see everyone at breakfast."

"Sure," she said. She started to get up but he held on to her arm and she looked back at him, curious. He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth lightly. She blushed and smiled at him. She went into the bathroom and when she came back out he was gone.

oooo

When Ginny Weasley showed up for Christmas dinner as a surprise, Hermione burst into tears from the relief. Everyone at the feast stared at her, shocked at such uncharacteristic behavior from the Head Girl, but Ginny understood and hugged her friend.

"She's fine," Ginny assured the audience and Snape felt like going over to her, but he didn't.

"I'm fine," Hermione echoed, hugging Ginny back. "I'm so glad you came."

"Professor McGonagall asked and Mum said it was okay for a few hours," Ginny explained. "She knew you'd probably want some company."

"Yeah," Hermione said, wiping at her eyes. "I do."

"I hope it's okay that this is your present," Ginny said. "There wasn't money this year for real gifts."

"Don't worry about it," she said. She glanced over at Snape who was watching them and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. Hermione knew that meant she couldn't tell Ginny about them or the prophecy. Her heart fell a little but she knew she had to make the most of her time there. After dinner, Hermione and Ginny stayed in the Great Hall picking at dessert and playing a game of exploding snap. Hermione wasn't any good at most wizarding games and lost several times in a row. Around ten, when both girls were in a holiday induced food coma, Mrs. Weasley arrived via floo to collect her only daughter.

"Hello," she said, hugging Hermione and handing her a box that contained her new Christmas jumper, with the H a bright white against a red knit.

"Happy Christmas," Hermione said. "Thanks for lending me Ginny."

Snape was standing a few feet away from them, watching.

"Are you sure we can't take her just for the night, Severus?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I am most certain," he said.

"Git," Ginny muttered as she and her mother stepped into the fireplace. Hermione frowned but Ginny and her mother were gone before anymore words were exchanged. With her friend gone, Hermione felt full and tired and no one noticed when Snape left with her to see her to her room.

"I didn't get you anything for Christmas," she said as they stood at the entrance to her room.

"I didn't get you anything either," he said. "So we're square."

"You aren't staying tonight, are you?"

"No, I can't tonight," he said.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"It seems likely," he said and touched her shoulder. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, professor," she said. In her room, she changed for bed feeling small and alone in the empty room. A tapping on the window sounded and she saw Hedwig on her window ledge waiting in the snow. She opened the window to the freezing night and let her in. It had been a long time since she'd heard from Harry and she felt relieved. Contact of any sort was good. She didn't have anything for Hedwig to eat but offered to let her stay in her room but the owl shook her head and stuck her leg out so Hermione could remove the small piece of parchment. She unrolled it and all it said, in Harry's sloppy writing, was See you soon. Hedwig didn't wait for a reply and Hermione watched her swoop not away from the castle but to the owlery. Hermione hoped it meant that Harry and Ron were both coming and within the next few days. She hadn't seen them for months.

She couldn't sleep that night but she wasn't sure if it was because she was excited or because she was alone.

Snape wasn't at breakfast and neither were her friends. She went down to the lab but it was empty and so she went to the library. Madame Pince had not stayed at the castle so Hermione had, literally, free reign of the library. As Head Girl she could go into the restricted section whenever she wanted but it was different knowing no one was watching her. There were few comfortable reading areas but in the far east corner of the restricted section, there was one over stuffed arm chair that looked like it belonged in the Ravenclaw common room. Luna had told her that they called the common room the 'think tank.' The chair was blue velvet with bronze stitching and this was where Hermione settled down for the day. She didn't bother to go to lunch mostly because she lost track of time. She was three-quarters of the way through a book on wizard marriage customs when she realized she wasn't alone. Snape was leaning against a shelf, watching with his arms folded.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he said. "Learn anything?"

"Much."

"Such as?"

"Engagement rings are a wholly Muggle custom," she said.

"It has begun to be popular among the younger generations of wizards," he said. "Is that what you want? Something shiny to prove you belong to me?"

"Yes. It makes me shallow but I don't care," she said.

"I'll get you whatever you want," he said softly and this surprised her. Not know how to respond, she changed the subject. She pulled Harry's note from her pocket.

"Harry sent this," she said, letting him read it.

"He probably found another horcrux and needs help destroying it," Snape said.

"Maybe he's tired of traveling and wants to come home," she countered.

"You missed lunch," he said. "I had the elves keep your plate warm. It's in my office. Please come eat." She liked when he was thoughtful and so she went with him, taking the book on weddings with her. His office was dark and cold. His chairs for students and guests were not meant for comfort but she didn't complain. He watched her eat and then they went back into the lab. Over the next few days, they finished all the brewing until it was the last day of the year. It would be the first year since 12 Grimmauld Place became Order headquarters that she didn't attend the New Year's Eve party.

Her disappointment was sure to lift when Harry and Ron arrived.

She was in her room, taking her midday nap. Snape sometimes jointed her but hadn't this afternoon. When the knock came, she thought he'd changed his mind and she rushed out of bed so no one would see him standing in the hall. Unfortunately, all she wore were her knickers and her sweater from Mrs. Weasley that just covered her behind.

"Holy…" Ron said, staring at her, turning red.

"Oh!" she said, grabbing her robe and putting it on, tying the sash tightly. "You're here!"

"Yep," Harry said. "Um… who, exactly, were you expecting?"

"Oh, no one, I was sleeping, I guess I am still a little bleary," she lied. They stared at each other. "Come in," she said, stepping aside. It was strange seeing them now after all this time looking weary and over-traveled. She thought they would hug and it would go back to normal but now it was awkward.

"We've missed you," Ron said.

"Just let me-" she pointed to the bathroom. "I'll be right back." In the bathroom, she put on clothes and tried to chase the blush from her face with cold water. The boys were waiting for her, looking around interestedly. They'd never seen her room before and she was grateful Snape was careful never to leave things behind. "I want to hear everything," she promised them. "How long have you been here?"

"We've only just arrived," Harry said.

"You must be starving. Let's go to the kitchen," she suggested. Ron agreed immediately but Harry looked at her like he knew she was hiding something.

"I just want to rest for a while," Harry said. "McGonagall said the elves will bring us anything we want."

"Oh," Hermione said. "All right. See you at dinner, then?"

"We'll be in the room of requirement," Harry said.

"Bye," she said and watched them go down the hall, feeling like she'd done something wrong. Maybe they were angry she hadn't taken this journey with them. Maybe Harry did know about her prophecy and if that were true, he didn't seem happy about it.

How many more things would go wrong?