A/N- Making progress, here's chapter four. Ok, so I changed the rating to M. I want you guys to know this story won't ever contain anything too harsh or violent, but just to be safe I made it M for language and future chapters. Once again, all the characters belong to JKR, not me!

The Worst Possibility

The next week passed in a busy haze. Hermione endured more training in her new fields, though Occlumency became significantly easier for her by the third night. Though she couldn't be completely sure, she was beginning to suspect that Snape was taking it easy on her. After their first session she found with a bit of effort she could force him to ease his grip on her mind, even if she couldn't force him out completely. Though he was as gruff and cold as ever Hermione found she could now have a few civilized sentences with him before the insults would begin. Saturday morning Hermione woke to the sound of birds. She groaned roughly and rolled onto her stomach, throwing the pillow over her head to try and block out the racket. She wasn't sure who had the bright idea to give the enchanted wake up calls, but she wanted to tell them a thing or two.

After a good ten minutes Hermione sighed and pulled herself from the warm bed. She always felt like a zombie in the morning, at least until she'd had her first cup of coffee. Blearily she dressed in a simple black sweater and jeans. In the past year or so Hermione had been making an effort to pay attention to how she dressed. Even though she couldn't force herself to follow the latest fashions like Lavender or Pravati she still wanted to be presentable. Her hair however still presented a problem. She found that it took a good amount of time and effort to train her hair, time and effort she decided best suited elsewhere. Sighing, she curled her locks into a messy knot and walked groggily down the stairs towards the kitchen. When she entered she was greeted by the unfamiliar sight of two bright red heads.

"Fred, George," she squealed in delight, giving the rambunctious twins a quick hug, "Well, this is a surprise."

"Hullo Hermione," George replied, sitting down a large green box rather hastily and shoving it under the table with his foot.

"How does this lovely day find you?" Fred asked, shoving the box still further from her sight.

"Quite well thanks," Hermione looked from their faces to the box which was still partly visible. The twins nodded and beamed at her. Hermione shook her head nonchalantly, whatever it was she probably didn't want to know anyway. "Coffee?" she asked them sweetly.

"No thanks, never got a taste for the stuff," Fred said with his face pulled into a look of distaste.

Hermione nodded and moved towards the stove. She chatted pleasantly with the twins while the coffee brewed, talking about their store, her training, and their latest inventions.

"So, little Hermione," Fred gushed in a baby voice, ""Ronniekins tells us you might be spending some time at the burrow this summer."

Hermione choked slightly into her coffee cup, "Yes, well. I'm not sure…..my training might not be complete…..I mean, maybe….." she could feel herself grasping at straws.

Fred and George exchanged a quick glance and changed the subject hastily. After three cups Hermione was feeling much better, until McGonagall came in.

"Ah yes, you're here," she said distractedly, looking from Fred to George, "Alright, it's time to go then."

"What's going on Professor?" Hermione asked over her empty cup.

"Nothing, nothing at all," she replied, straightening her hat. "Why? What have they told you?" McGonagall asked, looking critically at the twins.

"Nothing," they said in unison.

"Alright, we're off, I shall fetch you for training later Miss Granger," McGonagall nodded at her and strode from the room, the twins with their mysterious box right behind her.

An hour later Hermione sat in the living room thinking about everyone's odd behavior. She had the sneaking suspicion that something was wrong. The occupants of Grimmauld place were never relaxed, but there was certainly an air of tension about the place on this day.

"Miss Granger," a voice snapped from the corner. Hermione gave a start, she hadn't even noticed Snape come into the room.

"Yes?" she asked in a hiss. Despite everything Hermione didn't appreciate being startled and spoken to like a child on top of it all.

"I have been instructed that you are to accompany me to the apothecary," Snape positively growled this information, leading Hermione to believe it had most certainly not been his idea.

"Why?" she asked snappishly, before she could control herself.

"Perhaps so you can gain knowledge for your potions NEWT, or, perhaps just to annoy me," Snape threw her travel cloak into her lap, "Are you quite ready yet?"

Hermione pulled her cloak around her angrily. She was no happier than he at this arrangement, and it would have been nice if he hadn't laid his anger onto her. She stood and began to walk towards the front door.

"Surely you don't think we're going to walk there Miss Granger?" Snape snorted in a mock question.

"Forgive me Professor," Hermione snapped, "But unless the apothecary is hidden in one of these rooms I did assume we would have to venture outside."

They glared at each other for a moment before Snape stalked off towards the kitchen. Hermione met him and crossed her arms dejectedly.

"We have to apperate, and for safety measures I have been instructed to take you, " Snape said the end of his sentence with increased annoyance. He took her wrist with a solid grip, bordering on rough. With determination Hermione stood stiffly and they were off.

After a moment of blinding speed Hermione found herself standing in a small dark room. Snape opened the door quickly and she followed him into a very dusty, and very empty, store. Outside she could see the busy street, Diagon Alley.

"What is this Professor?" Hermione questioned, confused at an empty store in the busy shopping district.

"Formally a broomstick service station," Snape replied, brushing invisible dust from his robes, "the Order purchased it not long ago for….practical purposes."

Snape motioned her quickly towards the front of the shop. Hermione followed deep in thought. The Order must have more funding then she had realized.

Snape led her out of the store and down a series of streets and sidewalks. Eventually they came to store front that Hermione had often seen but never had a reason to enter. The weathered wooden sign said simply, Apothecary.

Following Snape she entered the dim store. The shelves which lined the walls were filled to the brim with jars and bottles. "Don't touch anything," Snape said to her without a glance and strode off to the right. Hermione huffed to herself. Despite her grumpy instructions Hermione soon found herself at home, looking in wonder at the wide assortment of supplies. She had never seen such powerful ingredients first hand. She found all sorts of rare items, lenkesis root, wennest stones, even shredded dragon heart. As she rounded the corner she spotted a large book section, and happily bounded forward. After a few minutes of reading The Power of the Cauldron she was hooked. As she read, the store keep, a greasy looking middle aged wizard, walked up to her.

"Interested in that eh?" he began, launching into his salesmen voice, "Well, it is rather rare…."

Hermione scoffed slightly, "Be that as it may, this book is hardly in perfect condition." She looked at the torn and stained cover with a critical eye.

"Still, I couldn't possibly let it go for less than……sixty galleons."

Hermione laughed out loud, "Sixty galleons? You must be spending too much time with the lenkesis root!"

"Come now young lady, this book can't be found anywhere else in London, why you'd have to go all the way…."

"Well then perhaps I will," Hermione interrupted haughtily, "because sixty galleons is blind robbery, and while it might work with some of your customers it shan't with me sir."

Hermione closed the book with a snap and moved to put it back on the shelf.

"Alright, alright," the man exclaimed, moving his hands furiously, "how about….fifty five galleons?"

"Thirty five and that's being generous," Hermione regarded him with a cool eye. The store keeper looked as though she had slapped him.

"Forty five, and I'll throw in a jar of fretil bark for free."

Hermione pursed her lips and cocked her head, "Make it chopped not powdered," she smiled and handed him the book. The man scurried away muttering. Hermione smiled to herself as she followed, the book was easily worth sixty galleons.

From the shadows of the shelves Severus watched with rapt attention. Despite himself he found a smirk growing on his face. The little snip would have done well in Slytherin, he thought. The book was easily worth sixty galleons.

Hermione and Snape stepped from the store into the afternoon light of Diagon Alley. Hermione was unusually cheerful, having secured her prize book, and was determined not to let Snape bring her down. As they walked back towards their apparition point Hermione noticed that he kept glancing at a silver pocket watch.

"We will have missed dinner," he announced suddenly, "I suppose I should feed you before we return to the house."

"It's no where near time for dinner, and even if we have I'm sure Tonks will have saved something…" she began in protest.

"Do not contradict me girl," he snapped, turning abruptly down a side street and walking towards a small stone building. The sign above the door read Zelda's.

Inside Hermione was surprised by Snape's choice of restaurants. It was small, but feverishly clean, with a few older wizards and witches scattered along the wooden table. Snape sat in the table nearest the corner, his back to the wall. Hermione took a seat as well, noticing his odd behavior. Something was going on, and she didn't like it one bit.

A plump little witch arrived to take their order, and Snape requested his "usual." It took a moment for Hermione to realize that he must come here rather often. This thought surprised her. She knew that the teachers must have a life outside of Hogwarts, but she had never had any experience with what those lives might contain.

"And for you dear?" the witch was asking, and Hermione realized she hadn't even glanced at the menu. She opened her mouth in dismay, "She'll have the same," Snape cut in, nodding politely to the waitress, who smiled and walked towards the kitchen.

Snape saw the confusion register on her face when the waitress had questioned her. Ordinarily he might have let the little know it all work it out, but for the sake of the day he had interjected.

"Thank you," Hermione grumbled softly, he merely nodded.

A few minutes of silence elapsed before Snape found his curiosity got the better of him, "You are aware, I assume, that the book is worth more than sixty galleons?"

Hermione felt a wicked smile flash across her face, "I was, but he wasn't."

Snape scoffed and took a sip of his tea. Inwardly he wished he were alone so he could enjoy his typical fire whisky.

"You should talk," Hermione aimed at him, "You talked him down to ten galleons a beazor. We both know that it would be twice as expensive anywhere else."

Snape smirked pompously, "There is a reason I frequent the establishments that I choose Miss Granger."

The plump witch came back with two bowls of a thick stew, complete with fresh bread. To her surprise Hermione greatly enjoyed it. Through the meal she made casual comments about some of the unknown things she had noticed in the apothecary, and, also to her surprise, she learned quite a bit from Snape's answers. She had always known he was a potions master, but the knowledge he seemed to know so offhand was still impressive.

When they were done Hermione dug through her purse for the required galleons. Snape regarded her with an icy stare.

"What are you doing Miss Granger?"

Hermione stopped cold, looking at him in confusion. When the plump witch returned Snape handed her a handful of coins and promptly stood.

"I didn't need you to pay for me professor," Hermione said, in what she hoped was not too harsh of a tone.

Snape scoffed and handed her the bag containing her book, "I did not think you desolate Miss Granger. A lady never pays for an accompanied meal." Snape turned and strode for the door without further conversation. Hermione followed him silently, with her head in a whirl. She hadn't noticed Snape's rather courtly manner before. She had always taken his demeanor to be arrogant, but when she considered again she realized that he acted rather like a gentlemen, when he elected to.

They walked back to the empty store and Snape took her arm once more. This time, she noticed it was a rather gentler grip. After a moment they were once again standing in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld place. Snape let go of her as if he was on fire, and she sat her book carefully on the table. He glanced at his watch once again, and Hermione had the feeling he was late for an appointment.

"Thank you professor," she began somewhat awkwardly, "for dinner."

He nodded curtly. Snape didn't understand exactly why she was thanking him. He cleared his throat, which was feeling uncomfortably tight. It was the respectable thing to do in the situation.

"Well, yes," he replied, feeling the overwhelming need to retire from her presence.

Hermione laughed softly, and Snape shot her a deadly glare, "Is something humorous Miss Granger?"

"I was just thinking, you ought to be careful. We almost had a pleasant afternoon together, I believe an insult or a taunt is in order to maintain balance," Hermione's eyes twinkled with the cordial ribbing.

Snape snorted to himself, but not without amusement, "I shall keep it in mind Miss Granger."

He gestured her into the living room, and before she could react Hermione was attacked from all sides.

Her induction party for the Order of the Phenonix came as a complete surprise. After she realized she was not being assaulted by a group of death eaters, Hermione was deliriously happy. It seemed as though the entire Order had shown for the event.

"Hermione dear!" Mrs. Weasley gave her a hug, "Are you surprised? We had a time getting you out of the house, but Severus was good enough to comply."

Hermione glanced at Snape, who was sitting alone in the corner, watching the festivities with obvious disdain. She smiled at him, and he flicked his eyes over her face for a brief moment before returning to observe the fire.

"Coming through, one side!" Fred and George were bounding through the group holding the bright green box high above their heads.

"Oi, Hermione! Come over here," George called to her, as the group formed a circle around the twins. Hermione walked up nervously, the twins were known to have an odd sense of humor.

"Well, open it up," Fred demanded, waving a hand over the box. Hermione pulled the green ribbon surrounding the package with increasing apprehension. She pulled the top off to reveal a wine colored robe. Hermione felt herself gasp as she pulled the lavish dress robes from their box.

"What? Why?" she stammered looking at the robes in disbelief. They were possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. A deep wine color, they had long bell sleeves and a heart cut neckline. The waist was accentuated with a delicate silver braid, and when held to the light the robes shifted colors ever so slightly.

"For your formal initiation dear, in three weeks," McGonagall beamed at the young girl's face. "We always fancy up a bit for that. This party is just a little congratulation to you."

For the rest of the night Hermione smiled and laughed, letting her mind wander away from the troubles she had been musing over. When the clock struck midnight McGonagall began to usher people away from the party, everyone hugging and congratulating Hermione. As he was leaving, Mr. Weasley pulled her aside.

"Ron has told us you might be visiting in a few weeks," Hermione nodded dumbly, "Well, we're looking forward to it. Just letting you know," he smiled warmly and gave her a hug before taking Molly's arm and waving goodbye.

When the living room had cleared McGonagall said goodnight to Hermione, who promptly collapsed into an armchair. Remembering her book she bound into the kitchen to retrieve it, and returned with a content smile. Curling herself up in the chair she opened to the title page.

"I would think you too exhausted to begin a new book tonight," a voice rang from the dark corner. Hermione looked up in surprise; she hadn't realized he was still there. She briefly felt annoyed that he always seemed to appear from the shadows when she was least expecting him.

"Too exhausted to read?" Hermione asked him with a laugh, "You know better than that professor. Though, I must admit, I am having a bit of a hard time with these terms. I should have brought my potions dictionary…." She trailed off in her own thoughts.

Snape stood from his dark armchair and crossed the room to her, "Which terms?" he asked, almost politely, almost.

Hermione pointed, "Clishdash extract?" she questioned him, showing the passage.

"Clishdash is a very potent fungus which grows only on the bodies of deceased magical animals, it is very hard to find, and therefore very expensive. This potion calls for two vials, which would be ungodly rare," Snape handed the book back to her.

"But look at what it can do," Hermione stated in an excited voice, "protection against all memory altering charms! Just imagine how valuable it would be to the Order," Hermione flicked the page.

"In order for that to work the members would have to take the potion regularly, too hard to upkeep and regulate" Severus noted, sitting down in an armchair and reading over her shoulder.

"But if there could be a way to make the potion time released," Hermione pointed to an illustration, "then a weekly or monthly dose could do. The properties are conductive to pletitis root, which could work if done in large enough doses."

Severus squinted at the picture and took the book from her, "Interesting, I never thought that pletitis root would mix with the enhancements…."

He looked up in time to see the girl studying his face with interest. In a rush, he realized how close he was sitting to her. She nodded slightly, "It would be rather complicated, but…..I'm sure you could do it."

Hermione felt like she was being squeezed. The moment he had sat by her she realized he smelled of sandalwood. The scent was overpowering, though not at all unpleasant. Her eyes floated from his dark eyes to his long hair, which seemed to be much blacker than she had ever noticed. Suddenly very aware of their close proximity, Hermione felt a chill rip through her.

"Perhaps," he responded distractedly. She really did look much older than he remembered. No longer the fizzy haired first year, something about her eyes made him appreciate the maturity she seemed to control at her age. "You may put too much faith in me Miss Granger."

Hermione dropped her eyes to the book. "I've yet to see you fail," she responded, keeping her gaze in the opposite direction.

Snape looked at her sideways. A compliment? A compliment from the girl who had harbored a loathing for him for the better part of a decade?

"Well, believe me when I say I have," he handed her book back, "more times than I care to remember." Absentmindedly, his hand covered the mark he bore on his forearm. He found himself wondering if this girl could stand to be in his presence if she knew everything he had done. If she knew what had really happened on the tower….

"Professor?" she called softly. Snape had lapsed into an unnerving silence. "Professor?" she placed a hand on his elbow, making him jump from his chair as though she had injured him. Hermione felt panicked, she had touched him.

As though waking from a trance Snape recovered quickly. "Goodnight Miss Granger, I trust our lessons shall continue tomorrow," He nodded in her direction and left through the kitchen.

Hermione sat in a mixed state of confusion. She closed the book softly and moved closer to the fire. What exactly was going on? She shook her head vigorously, as though to clear the thoughts. For some reason she seemed to keep having these odd moments with Snape. And what was worse, she was afraid to admit she rather enjoyed them. For a moment she thought he had as well, and then she had done such a foolish thing, to grab him unprovoked. She sighed roughly and started towards her bedroom

Three floors above Severus Snape poured a glass of fire whisky and collapsed into his armchair. Something was going to have to be done about Miss Granger. This evening, for a very brief moment, he had felt a surge of….something. Something that he was in no mood to sort through at the moment. He finished the glass quickly, pouring another before the glass reached the table. The girl had an unnatural ability to off balance him, there was no denying that. He had allowed himself to become yielding towards her. After the experience in her memory he had been more lenient than he should. He would put a stop to it, tomorrow.

Hermione spent the next morning avoiding Snape like the plague. She carefully peered into all rooms before entering, and stayed away from the library completely. Though she didn't normally see him during the day she wasn't going to take any chances.

At lunch McGonagall announced that she would be taking her newts the following Thursday. She would have to travel to ministry headquarters, and the more Hermione thought about it the sicker she felt. To make matters worse, she received an owl from Ron.

Hermione, Sorry I haven't found time to write before. Summer's always pretty crazy around here. Mum told me all about what's going on with you. Wow, can't believe you might be my teacher. I hope it all pans out, then you can make sure everyone gets through their last year with room to spare. So, to let you know, Dad invited you to spend a bit of time at the Burrow after your tests. We know you're busy and all, but, I'd like to see you if you can make it. Talk to you soon.

Ron

Hermione stored the letter in her desk. She still wasn't sure what to think about the situation. The only thing she knew for sure was Ron wasn't the one who kept entering her mind.

That night at seven Hermione knocked on the library door as usual.

"Enter," the gruff voice sounded.

Hermione entered the library and received a mild shock. The room was completely cleared. The all the furniture was gone, leaving only the fireplace and a lone bookshelf in the room. Slightly confused, she opened her mouth to question, but Snape was too quick for her.

"Tonight Miss Granger, we will see the efforts of our training. If you are able to successfully block me tonight I shall inform Minerva that you have mastered the basic skills of Occlumency," Snape spoke quickly, busying himself with rolling his sleeves.

Hermione nodded, something was different about his demeanor this night. In the past week she had gradually seen Snape relax during their sessions. He had even chanced an occasional laugh or look, but now, he acted exactly as he had the first night.

Snape straightened and drew his wand, "Are you prepared?"

She nodded, bracing herself. In an instant Hermione felt the pressure. She was used to it by now, easily blocking his efforts. She felt the pressure intensify a bit, it was getting harder. Still the feeling worsened, and Hermione found her breath becoming ragged.

Snape watched as her task became harder. He had yet to use all of his force, but he was surprised at how effective she had been at blocking his efforts. He watched as she started to twitch under the exertion. He knew the feeling well. Still he pressed on, all the while becoming more insistent that he would break her.

Hermione felt herself beginning to crumble, she couldn't hold much longer. Why was he doing this? Why had he suddenly become so hostile? Last night had been so wonderful; she had thought they had connected. Her mind slipped further, she was losing.

"Enough!" she screeched, breaking the contact and rubbing her head. She felt as if someone had slashed through her skull.

"Do you think you'll be able to say 'enough' if you're being tortured by a death eater?" Snape spat at her from across the room.

"What is it with you tonight?" Hermione yelled back, feeling her composure fade.

"I beg your pardon! Watch your tone Miss Granger, you will address me with the appropriate amount….."

"Come off of it!" Hermione yelled. Her head was pounding, and all she could think of was making Snape feel the same pain, "This has nothing to do with my training! You're purposely making this difficult because you have some childish vendetta against me."

"I assure you I have no personal thoughts of you whatsoever," Snape slammed his wand into his cloak, seething with anger, "nor would I accuse anyone of being childish if I were you Miss Granger."

"I am so sick of this act," Hermione stopped rubbing her head and glared mercilessly at Snape, "You act like a complete bastard to everyone all the time, and when on occasion someone tried to act civilized towards you, you make them regret it tenfold!"

"I have no need for you to be civilized towards me," Snape rounded on her, using his height as an advantage, "and I also have need for psychoanalysis from a teenager!"

"Well that's just too damn bad because you're going to get it! I have tried, repeatedly, to make this situation better for the both of us. Like it or not Severus," she stressed his first name, "We are going to be working together, and there's a good chance that it will be for a long time. Now I have no desire to make the next years of my life any more hellish than they already will be."

"Hellish?" Snape whipped around with a force greater than himself, "You? Worried about your life being hellish? Why don't you try and take the place of the childish potions master for a day or two? Why don't you live a double life of murder and treachery? You are a child," he pointed an accusatory finger at her, "you have no idea what hellish is."

Hermione glared with the force of a thousand suns and turned her back to him. Snape paced the floor in front of the fireplace, cracking his fingers compulsively. How dare she? She knew nothing about anything. A little girl such as herself couldn't fathom the things he had seen, the things he had done.

"And whose fault is that?" Hermione whispered nastily from the corner. She saw his back stiffen. There were no words. There was no response. Hermione caught her breath in her throat, there, she had said it. All the time she had been thinking it, and now it was out. But now that she had said it, Hermione realized how horribly unfair it was. As though a dam had burst she felt an outpour of compassion for the man standing in front of her. He didn't need anyone to hate him, he hated himself enough for them all. Desperately, she tried to hang on to the anger and bitterness she felt for him. She tried to conjure the memories of every hateful thing he had ever done to her, but with a sigh Hermione knew she was losing the battle. She wasn't a hateful person, for better or worse, and she didn't want to cause anyone pain, especially not him.

"No one blames you but yourself," she half choked, "you're the only one for can't forgive."

Snape felt as though she had stabbed him. Despite his best efforts the words had hit deep. He told himself she didn't matter, an idiot child with idiotic ideals, but for some reason he still couldn't move.

No longer wary Hermione approached him by the fire. His eyes stared blankly at the wall. "No one blames you," she repeated in a whisper.

An odd sort of chill had come over her. As she stood there she realized that for the first time, she was seeing Severus Snape. A defeated man, who didn't really have anything left to give. Without thinking she reached for him. For some reason she couldn't understand, she knew she had to feel him, to make sure he was still there, despite the empty look in his eyes. This time he didn't jump, he didn't move. She snaked her hand around his wrist, feeling the cold heartbeat.

Severus turned his eyes slightly to meet hers. He was vaguely aware of her hand on his wrist, though he couldn't feel her. Her large eyes were searching, as though trying to understand all the secrets of the universe in one moment.

"No one knows," he replied, in an unnaturally throaty voice.

"Then tell them."

Snape returned his eyes to the wall. He needed to get away from her. She made him weak, but why? Why after all these years did a girl have the power to weaken him?

"Severus….tell someone. You're killing yourself inside, tell me," she swallowed hard, sliding her hand into his. Hermione felt as if her mind had closed, she was completely out of control of her movements, her speech, her very mind.

The moment he felt her hand slide into his Snape felt his heart lurch. He looked at her in a sort of terrible understanding. Gazing at her face he knew that from this moment on, he was going to be in danger.

Leaning down, he placed his lips to her ear, "Never," he whispered, savoring the feel of her hair against his cheek.

Letting go of her hand he stared at her face, eyes reflecting fire in the dark room. If only she had never come, if only she was far from him, then he could begin to rebuild himself.

Hermione backed away, feeling a wash of hurt. Turning, she bolted from the library, up the stairs, and slammed herself into her small bedroom. Throwing herself down, she took deep breaths until she could once again feel herself. There was no going back now; she understood exactly what her heart had been screaming all along. With a grim determination to keep all tears at bay, Hermione rolled into a ball and closed her eyes. She was in love with Severus Snape, and for the moment, she couldn't think of a worse possibility in the entire universe.

A/N- Aha! The plot thickens….

Review if you've got a minute. I know this chapter moved fast, and things seem sort of abrupt, but give it a chance, you might be pleasantly surprised.