"Why didn't you just tell us, 'Mione?" Ron couldn't seem to let the subject of her illness drop. Hermione had eventually dragged him to a muggle café in London so that they could talk without the threat of Harry overhearing them.

"Because I knew you wouldn't be able to help me. I went to everyone, Ron! St Mungo's, a famous Charms Master, the biggest Magical library in America. Nothing could help me; no-one can help me."

"But, why?" he nearly shouted and Hermione smiled despite the serious topic of conversation. The foam from Ron's hot chocolate was stuck to his lip.

"I combined muggle and magical medicine to slow down the process of the curse. No-one has ever lived this long while suffering the effects of Sanguis Proditor."

"Have you told anyone else?"

She briefly closed her eyes and took a sip of her cappuccino. "Just Professor Flitwick."

"Not Snape?"

Her eyes flew open and she pinned him with her gaze. "No," she said firmly.

"Merlin, 'Mione. This is why you won't tell him how you feel," he realised slowly.

"Yes," she said and looked away quickly. "I can't admit to him how I feel, only to tell him that I will die in seven or eight months; it's too cruel."

"Shouldn't that be his decision to make?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Why do you even care, Ron?! You've always hated him"

He leaned forward in his seat and hissed, "that was before I knew you were dying."

"I'm sorry you found me like that, but just because you now know, doesn't mean that you get to treat me like an invalid and tell me what to do with the time I have left."

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, 'Mione, but if what you're saying is true and you really don't have that much time left; then don't you want to enjoy your last moments?"

"And emotionally traumatising the man I care for will allow me to enjoy my life?" she asked sarcastically.

"You're just scared," he said bluntly and she slammed her cup onto the table. Ron flinched as he saw the anger and hurt on her face.

"Of course, I'm scared, Ron!" Tears filled her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. "I'm terrified! My parents are lost in Australia with no memory of who I am. I'm taking the last exams I will ever take in just one day. Someone who I have looked up to has asked me to re-build an entire bloody castle and I can't let her down. Seven months ago, I fought in a war and lost half my peer group. I slept with my teacher and it was photographed and put on the front page of a bloody newspaper. And while all of this has been happening; my body has been trying to kill me!"

Hermione panted and sat back in her seat. "I'm petrified of dying, Ron, and when I'm with Severus, I get this feeling of safety or comfort or… something. It tricks me into thinking that everything will be okay and I am terrified that if I continue to talk to him; to be with him, then I will forget that I am supposed to spare him this pain and stay away from him. If I tell him, Ron, then I'm afraid that I'll forget and I'll start to hope and I'll let myself get carried away."

She looked down into her lap and blinked the tears out of her eyes. "I'm afraid I'll fall in love with him," she whispered softly.

Ron reached across the small table and took her hand in his. The tears were now steadily flowing down her cheeks and he gently ran his thumb along her knuckles to soothe her. "I think you already have," he said delicately.

Hermione's breath hitched and her eyes closed. "Why would you think that?"

"Why else would you try to protect him from your death? You know that if he knew the full extent of your feelings and the two of you were to become involved, then there would be a big chance that he would also fall in love with you. You were trying to spare him from saying goodbye to someone he loved, weren't you?"

"I can't do that to him; not after everything he went through with…" her voice trailed off as she remembered the image of Severus screaming over Lily Potter's lifeless body in her dream. "You have to promise me that you won't tell him," she said firmly.

"I don't know, 'Mione. I still think you should tell him," Ron admitted.

"Why? Weren't you listening to everything I just said?!"

"Yes. You want to spare him from the possibility of falling in love with you only to bury you later on."

She let out a relieved breath and nodded thankfully, "yes, exact-"

"-But what if he already is?" Ron interrupted.

"If he already is, what?"

"In love with you?" he said simply.

Hermione spluttered. "Severus Snape is not in love with me."

"How do you know? Have you asked him?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and shook her head in annoyance. "Ron, for God's sake, I know you like to tease him for being old and alone, but just because I slept with him does not mean that he instantly fell in love with me."

Ron hummed and took a large gulp of coffee. "Are you willing to bet?" he asked smugly.

"Bet on whether Snape is in love with me or not?" she asked incredulously. "I think that's the stupidest thing you've ever said."

"No, I'm serious," he laughed. "Ask him to go to the Christmas Fair with you and if he kisses you before the end of the night, you owe me five galleons."

"That completely defeats the purpose of me staying away and protecting him."

"Yes, but I think that's the stupidest thing you've ever said; so, I'm intervening," he said with a grin.

"He'll be at the fair anyway; there's no point in asking him to go with me."

"There's a difference between being at the fair and being at the fair together," he said with a sigh as if he was explaining something very obvious to a small child.

"That makes absolutely no sense," Hermione said with an air of superiority.

"It makes perfect sense." He smiled as he noticed that her tears had cleared up. "Fine, if you think it's so stupid then why not accept the bet?"

"No."

"Aww, 'Mione! Come on, it's just a bit of fun."

"No, you simply want five galleons. And using a man's feelings for a bet is not fun," she said and stood up from their booth in the café. "Come on, I want to get some more study done before Transfiguration tomorrow."

Ron squinted against the afternoon sun and stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked to the apparition point. "So," he began and pretended not to notice as Hermione rolled her eyes, "not to be insensitive or anything; but why are you even taking your NEWTS if you're going to die soon?"

"Well," she answered slowly, "when I was younger I made a list of things I wanted to do before I died. It's called a bucket list and it was just a childish thing, really. But, when I learned of my condition, I dug it out again. Becoming a Princess seems a tad unrealistic now and I doubt I will ever get to see the Northern Lights, or drink hot chocolate under the Eiffel Tower, so I decided to try and complete my fourth goal."

Ron smiled sadly and nodded, "to do your NEWTs."

"With straight Outstandings in every subject," she beamed proudly. "My twelve-year-old self was very specific."

Ron smiled, but then a shadow crossed his face and he frowned. "Hermione, I want you to know-"

"-Hush," she interrupted gently, "what's done is done. We've talked about this long enough now." She put her hand against his cheek as his eyes filled with tears. "Thank you for caring so much, Ron. You're a good friend."

He said nothing in reply and simply wrapped his large arms around her frame. It suddenly struck him how frail his best friend had become and he inwardly berated himself for not realising sooner.

Severus Snape sighed in annoyance and tried once more to focus on the parchment in front of him. Sinistra had completed a full evaluation of his Slytherins during his weekend away. Apparently, the Half-blood and Muggleborn students had gone a little crazy in his absence. The evening class on a Friday was the only one he was unable to attend. It just so happened that the class was a recovery Potions module for second and third year students who needed to catch up or revise.

She had written about an incident which involved Andrew Robbins, a Pureblood, asking where their normal Professor was. As Sinistra replied that he would be missing for the weekend, Bobby Cross; one of the few Slytherin Muggleborns, stood up and started to sing. Sinistra didn't note the song as she didn't recognise it, but apparently, it had something to do with wishing for death.

Snape sneered as he read that she was 'very shaken and disturbed by the boy's waving arms and scary singing'. Honestly, how could a thirteen-year old's singing possibly inspire fear in an experienced teacher of her age? It had gotten the other students very riled up and it took her twenty minutes to calm them down. She eventually had to simply dismiss the class.

Snape sighed once more and pinched the bridge of his nose. He takes one weekend away and comes back to deal with this crap. It was a joke. He pushed the parchment away from him and leaned back in his chair. Unfortunately, an insane thirteen-year-old was the least of his problems.

When he had arrived back form Varna, Filius filled him in on the decision that Miss Granger's committee had made in his absence. A fucking Christmas Fair. As if his life wasn't complicated enough without being asked to help create a modified version of a warming charm that would cover the 'Fair ground'.

He groaned and pressed his thumbs firmly underneath his eyebrows. It was arranged for the twenty-second, the day before the students go home and was open to the public. He tried not to stress about it, he really did; but the security risk alone was making his skin crawl. Not to mention that everyone else on the committee seemed to have a specific job and his only task was to talk to the Board. Which he did when she had asked him to. Not that she cared.

He rolled his eyes at his own petulant thoughts. What was wrong with him? Perhaps he was coming down with something. For some reason, it irked him that she didn't check if he had done as she asked, or questioned where he was that weekend. Even though, she was the one who had set it up and had probably already talked to Borisov to thank him for the hand-out. Not that Snape didn't appreciate hand-outs; he did. He was a Slytherin, born and bred. He had no problem with exploiting a situation for his benefit. But, for some unknown reason, it frustrated him that Hermione was trying to help him; he hated being in debt.

His hands rested on the arms of his chair. He started to think about Filius' charm again and was struck by inspiration. If they could somehow figure out the exact distance of the fairground and then calculate that by-

"Professor Snape?"

Severus jumped in his chair as his thoughts were disrupted by a knock on his door. "Come in," he called out and straightened the papers scattered on his desk as Ronald Weasley walked into his office. "Mr Weasley," he said with a raised eyebrow, "what a surprise."

"Hi," the teenager said awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks turned red. The silence stretched between them as Ron remained standing silent in front of his desk. Severus eventually turned towards the open file in front of him and pretended to be concentrating on what Sinistra had to say.

"I presume you're here with a reason," he drawled slowly.

"Um, yeah…"

"Well, spit it out, Mr Weasley. Some of us have a job to do."

Ron took a deep breath and stepped closer to his desk. "Hermione put me in charge of finding stalls and marquees for the Fair, but I'm having a little trouble finding any. McGonagall said that I could use the tents that were set up during the Triwizard tournament."

"Then why are you here?"

"She doesn't know where they are and thought you might have some ideas."

Severus shook his head in annoyance. He was Headmaster for one year and was still expected to know everything. Fortunately for Mr Weasley, however; he did, in fact, know the answer to his question. "Last year, Mr Longbottom was sentenced to detention with the Carrows. I intervened and had him clean every tent that was used during the Triwizard Tournament instead; I suggest you ask him where he put them."

Ron nodded pensively. "That was… nice of you."

Severus looked up and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing in return.

"I heard you went on a trip. How was it?"

Severus' eyes nearly closed as he narrowed them further. "Adequate," he replied.

"Right. Okay," Ron clasped his hands in front of him and pursed his lips as he looked around the office.

"Is everything to your liking?" Severus asked sarcastically and looked at the papers on his desk once more.

"I like your couch; that's new," he said with false bravado, "not too fond of your interior design though." Ron gestured towards the jars containing his experiments on the shelves and Severus nearly snorted in amusement. Nearly.

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind the next time I do my Spring cleaning."

Ron's lips twisted upwards, but the Professor kept his eyes trained on the desk in front of him. Ron hesitated once more and then eventually sat down in the chair opposite Snape who looked up in surprise at his movements.

"So, this Fair is gonna be fun, huh?" Ron said with fake amusement and nervously laughed.

"Mr Weasley, I would greatly appreciate it, if you could get to the point," Snape snarled.

Ron nodded and pursed his lips. "I guess I don't really have a point to be honest. I just wanted to ask for your help and then let you know that Hermione will be staying here for the next two weeks as she finishes her exams."

"What Miss Granger does in her free time is of no consequence to me," Snape muttered.

"I know," Ron winced. "I just thought you might want to know…"

"Why on Earth would I care?" The Professor snapped. The boy was starting to irritate him and Snape was desperately trying not to hex him.

"I dunno, maybe in case you wanted to… ask her out or something." Ron's face exploded in colour and he stared resolutely at the wall behind his old Professor when Snape suddenly looked up.

"Mr Weasley?" he said in a low, threatening voice and Ron nearly started to shake.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Do you have a death wish?"

"No, Sir."

"Then get out."

"Yes, Sir." Ron jumped out of the chair and nearly ran out of Snape's office.

Snape sighed and sat back in his chair as the boy hurried away. His forehead creased in anger as he remembered the short conversation. Ronald Weasley may be an idiot, but at least he had the sense to run.

Hermione walked out of her Transfiguration exam already going over Arithmancy formulae in preparation for tomorrow's exam. She shook the tension out of her right hand and tried to ignore the conversations taking place around her. The other seven students were talking about what they would have for dinner and if being eighteen meant that they now had an extended curfew.

She shook her head and smiled as they walked past her, planning to spend their evening in Hogsmeade if McGonagall gave them the all clear. She thought about getting dinner with Ron if he was still here and massaged her palm. Hermione had forgotten how sore it was to write continuously for nearly three hours straight.

She didn't notice as the conversation around her grew quiet and the other students stopped walking. She looked up just in time to see a familiar black figure walking towards her. Her mind went blank for a second and then her thoughts started to race. A thousand questions ran through her head at once and she couldn't decide which one to voice out loud. Should she say hello? Will he say hello? What happens if she does say hello and he continues to walk past her? Does he still want to be on her committee? Does he even want to be near her? WHAT WAS THE SOCIAL PROTOCOL FOR THIS SITUATION?

Suddenly he was an arm's length away and her mouth acted before her mind had decided on what to say. "Severus," she greeted and smiled weakly up at him.

He stopped walking and stood in front of her, looking her up and down. For a moment, Hermione thought that he would continue on and not acknowledge her at all. Her heart started to beat frantically at the possibility of him ignoring her, even though, she had told Ron that that would be for the best.

She suddenly realised that there was a huge difference between talking about avoiding Severus, and actually doing it.

Thankfully, he chose that moment to speak, before she blurted out something stupid or simply ran away. "I spoke to the Board last week," he said slowly.

"Oh," she smiled and tried to think of something appropriate to say. "That's great. Thank you. What did they say?"

"They agreed that your idea had merit and gave the go-ahead for any fundraising event that is sanctioned and approved by the Heads of House and the Headmistress."

"Excellent. You can share the good news with the rest of the committee tomorrow night."

"There's a meeting tomorrow?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I decided that we should probably meet once more before the Fair. It's barely even two weeks away now," she said while wringing her hands. She had no idea why she was so nervous. Had he enjoyed Bulgaria? Should she ask about it?

"Ah, yes; the Christmas Fair. Filius is very excited, I must say. How did you think of it?"

"It wasn't me," she laughed nervously. "Fleur mentioned the German markets and suddenly everyone in the room was obsessed with the idea."

"It was a unanimous decision, then?"

"Yes, mostly. It took a bit to convince me, but after some delegation, I realised that we could do this."

He nodded and looked away, making Hermione feel slightly awkward once more. "Do you agree? With the Fair, I mean."

Severus pursed his lips, "I agree that it will raise money."

"But?" she prompted.

"But, anything that involves flooding Hogwarts with either people or decorations has always set my teeth on edge."

Hermione smiled at his stubbornness despite the awkward atmosphere. She remembered when he had spent the Yule ball setting rose bushes on fire. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I took it upon myself to send a message to Kingsley and he's sending a few Aurors for security purposes."

Severus raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, "that makes me feel worse; knowing that the Ministry will be in charge."

She huffed in silent laughter at his sarcasm. "There's simply no pleasing you, Professor," she teased lightly.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said in a low voice filled with suggestion and Hermione's mouth opened slightly at the sound. She looked into his eyes that were an almost bottomless shade of black and watched as he smirked in a way that could only be described as sinful.

"How was your exam?" he asked with an amused look firmly planted on his face as he watched her struggle for words.

"Hmm? Oh, it was good. Very good. Question two gave me a spot of trouble but I did a quick brainstorm and powered through. I have Arithmancy tomorrow morning which will probably be a lot harder than today. And, of course the Potions practical is on Thursday. I'm actually looking forward to that; it will be a nice change from non-stop writing to be honest. My hand is killing me." She finally stopped talking and looked up to see him do that half-smirk, half-smile thing.

"I have no doubt you'll do excellently."

"Thanks," she said and blushed as the silence stretched between them once more. "I, uh, I heard you went to Bulgaria. To the Elites, wasn't it?"

He narrowed his eyes in a knowing look and Hermione's heart almost stopped. He couldn't possibly know that she set up his invitation. Could he?

"Yes. The Chairman extended me an invitation to attend and Minerva said that I should go."

"She was right; you needed a break," Hermione blurted out and blushed once more.

He gave her another assessing look, but didn't say anything as some students passed them in the corridor and Hermione suddenly began to feel very exposed. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow at the meeting, yeah? It's on at eight, in the staffroom." she said and started to walk away.

"Of course," he said politely. "Until then, Hermione."

The Committee's meeting arrived sooner than Severus was expecting. He sat in his favourite armchair at the back of the staffroom while waiting for Hermione to start. Mr Weasley was standing near the door talking to her in a hushed voice and sending occasional glances in his direction. The ex-spy tried to ignore it, but it eventually became obvious that the youngest male Weasley was talking to Hermione about him.

Severus narrowed his eyes and tried to read the boy's lips, while pretending to read the prophet. It looked as if he said 'you should tell him', but the Professor couldn't discern what she replied as she was standing with her back to him. Just then, Ronald sighed and threw his arms in the air before walking away. Severus followed his movements for three seconds and then flicked his eyes back to Hermione.

She was still standing where the boy left her, with one hand massaging her forehead and the other curled into a fist by her side. Severus flicked his newspaper in annoyance. He wasn't annoyed that she was upset. Oh, no. He was annoyed that he did not know why she was upset. He hated not knowing things. Knowing things was his job for nearly a decade and it had saved his life more than once.

He debated about standing up and comforting the woman still standing by the door. Simply to discover what the boy had said to her, of course. But then, Pomona coughed and Hermione started the meeting.

"Good evening, everyone!" she called and picked up a muggle A4 pad. "I decided to check in with everyone's tasks and see how you're all getting on. Professor Flitwick, how's the decorations coming along?"

Severus rolled his eyes from behind the cover of the Prophet. The miniscule Charms Professor couldn't stop going on about the bloody decorations. He had to listen Filius' excitement at meals ever since he came back from Bulgaria.

"Excellently. At first, I was planning on using the traditional Christmas colours of red and green, but then I thought; why not represent all four houses? We have enough holly, poinsettias and mistletoe for Gryffindor and Slytherin. Which only left Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to cater for."

"And have you come up with a solution?" Hermione asked while scribbling on her A4 pad.

"Well, this is the excellent part. I decided to ask my classes if they had any ideas and little Bobby Cross told me of a charm that his brother used on their Christmas tree last year. Their mother was very stressed about the fairy lights breaking apparently, and his older brother devised a charm that mimics the twinkling of muggle fairy lights," Flitwick paused here to rub his hands together in excitement. "Mr Cross said it's the exact same yellow as the Hufflepuff crest."

"Have you tried it out?" Ron asked from the side.

"Yes, it works perfectly. It really is a fantastic charm."

Hermione nodded, "do you have anything to represent your own House?"

"I'm afraid that's a surprise, Miss Granger," the Charms Professor said with a smile.

Severus didn't even try to conceal his eye-rolling this time, but Hermione simply smiled back. "How are the stalls coming along, George?"

"Good, nine businesses have already signed up and I've been getting a lot of owls about it. People are definitely interested."

"Great," she wrote on her pad again and continued to the next person on her list. Severus looked down at his paper once more and tried to tune out the sounds of his colleague's progress.

It wasn't that he didn't think the Fair was a good idea; he did. It was just the fact that he was tired. Of everything. All he wanted was either a strong cup of coffee or a large glass of whiskey.

His eyes were drawn to the woman standing at the top of the room as he remembered the last time he had indulged in whiskey. Faded memories of sweet nothings and naked skin clashed with clearer memories of a warm mouth and grasping hands. Maybe just the coffee, then.

He coughed and crossed his legs nonchalantly as he tried to divert his gaze from Hermione. She was currently biting the end of a muggle pen and tilting her head while looking at her notes. His eyes were drawn to the long expanse of her neck and he could remember running his tongue along the soft skin.

She must have sensed someone looking at her and quickly flicked her eyes towards him. Her brown eyes blinked at the intensity of his gaze but she recovered quickly and sent a small smile in his direction before turning back to whatever Pomona was saying.

Severus slowly put down the Prophet in an effort to not make noise and decided to continue with his perusal of Hermione Granger's body. It seemed pointless to deny himself any longer. Besides, there wasn't any harm in looking; was there?

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun that left curls resting on her neck and framing her face. Severus widened his eyes as he was struck by a memory of feeling those curls wrapped around his fist as she bent backwards over him. Black eyes travelled down her body but didn't see the red jumper and tight jeans. Severus' mind's eye was replacing each inch of her clothes with the skin he knew lay beneath.

He ran an index finger along his bottom lip as he imagined the long, puckered scar Dolohov had left between her breasts. He remembered kissing along each ridge and valley of the scar, but he could not recall the exact colour of it. Severus flexed his fingers and felt the phantom weight of her breasts in his palms.

He trailed his gaze back up her throat and watched in fascination as she gulped and the muscles of her neck flexed. She was watching him as he watched her and Severus instinctively knew that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Is that alright, Miss Granger?"

Severus' lips twitched as Hermione jumped and came back to reality, tearing her eyes away from his gaze. She coughed and mumbled something incoherent to Pomona while continuously flicking her eyes in his direction.

He smirked to himself as she noticeably tried to move the meeting along. It was simply too easy to get to her.

"That concludes our second meeting. Good work, everyone. Any questions?" Hermione asked in slightly higher voice than usual.

"Yeah, I was wondering if there's going to be any security at this thing," Ron said.

"I sent an owl to Kingsley and he said he would send us a few Aurors to help with monitoring the Fair."

"Shouldn't we do something extra, though? Like put up a few charms or something?" asked George.

Hermione was silent for a while and then her face lit up. She flicked her eyes towards Severus and then said with a smile, "you're absolutely right, George." Severus narrowed his gaze in response to the mischievous gleam in her eyes as she continued to speak. "Which is why I've decided to put Severus in charge of security."

The Potions Master's eyebrows rose at both her declaration and the beaming smile she sent his way.

"Oh, well then," George said with a nod, "I'm sure we'll all be perfectly safe."

Severus cleared his throat and nodded slowly, not sure if the lad was being sarcastic or not. He remained sitting in his chair as the meeting ended and the others filed out of the staffroom. When Filius finally stopped talking about colour patterns and left with Pomona, he stood up from his chair and walked towards the front of the room.

Hermione smiled as he approached her and Severus clasped his hands behind his back. "Thank you, I think," he said with a tilt of his head.

"Well, I took what you said about the Ministry being in charge very seriously," she said with a small smile.

"And, obviously, the best person to keep them in line is… me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Obviously," She nodded in mock seriousness.

He smirked. "How have your exams been going?"

"Good. I'm looking forward to going to the Fair now and taking a break from it all." She leaned against the back of a large armchair and smiled up at him. Not for the first time, he was struck by their height difference.

"It's sure to be… interesting."

She laughed at his sourness, but then grew quiet as the smile slipped from her face. "Are you alright?" she asked slowly.

His brow furrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just that, when Professor Flitwick mentioned his new charm, you buried yourself in the Prophet and went quiet." She bit her lip and looked down at the floor, "you didn't say anything for the whole meeting."

Severus pursed his lips and sighed. He was hoping for a somewhat lighter conversation, but if he was being honest with himself, he would talk about anything she wanted him to. "David Cross was a fantastic student in Charms and Arithmancy, Filius shouldn't have been surprised that he had come up with an original spell by himself." Severus sighed again and looked away from her eyes, "no real flair for potions, though."

"He was a fantastic student?" Hermione asked.

"He died," Snape said with a low voice while staring at a spot on the wall. "This year will be Bobby's first Christmas with just his mum."

"Where's their dad?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He died when the boys were young. I've never met him, but Bobby informs me that his dad would have liked me and thought that magic was 'cool'."

"You seem to have a close relationship with the Cross boys."

"David entered first year when you were beginning fourth year and the Dark Lord was rising again. He was a Muggleborn and sorted into Slytherin. I had to work closely with himself and his mother to create a convincing enough cover story to protect him from the children of Death Eaters in his House. I was in David's home on a weekend, when nine-year-old Bobby levitated my cloak off my shoulders and started to play with it. Evidently, he had also been given the gift of magic."

Severus blinked as memories overtook him and he had to resist the urge to run a hand through his hair in frustration.

"How did David die?" Hermione asked softly.

"He was supposed to go through the portrait hole in the Room of Requirement, but, because he was a Slytherin; he never got the chance. He was holding Bobby's hand when a giant plucked him from the ground and eat him whole. Bobby's wrist broke, he held onto his brother so hard."

Hermione grew quiet and then walked towards him with her hand outstretched. "How did Bobby survive?"

Severus swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as she took his hand in hers. "I was flying above the Battle when I saw what happened and landed in front of the boy before he could even scream. I apparated him to St Mungo's and then re-joined the Battle."

"That was very brave of you," she said and interlocked their fingers together.

Severus looked into her whiskey-coloured eyes. His other hand fluttered at his side, wanting to reach out and touch her. "We were all very brave that night," he whispered.

Her eyes drifted to his neck where his scars lay hidden from view. Her hand rose slowly, as if giving him time to back away, and came to rest on his ruined throat. "Some more than others," she said quietly; her voice heavy with meaning.

He looked at her lips and wondered what she would do if he kissed her. Minerva had said to seduce her, but would Hermione even want to be seduced by him? Ever so slowly, he lowered his head and miraculously, she raised up on tiptoes to meet him halfway. Her lips were dry and slightly chapped, but oh, so warm. He captured her bottom lip in his and sunk his hand into her curls that were threatening to burst out of her hair tie.

Her tongue greeted his own like an old friend and Severus sighed into her mouth. She was warm and wet and she tasted of… iron. His eyes flew open and he reared his head back to look at the woman in front of him. He would know that taste anywhere. Her mouth was surrounded by a scarlet ring and his hand rushed to his own mouth, finding more blood on his lips.

"Hermione?" he asked and looked at her in panic.

She gasped and clamped a hand over her face, but blood quickly ran from her nose over her knuckles. He cast a cleansing charm on both of their faces and then took out a white handkerchief from his frockcoat. "Come, sit down," he urged gently and guided her into the armchair she was previously leaning against.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she took the handkerchief and held it against her face.

"Don't apologise," he said quickly. "It's only fair that you bleed on me, after what I put you through the night I flew to London." He wondered why he was talking so quickly and then realised that he was on his knees in front of her as she wiped blood from her face. Something in his chest cramped and he winced. What was wrong with him?

"Do you know what caused it?" he asked in an effort to get her talking. She had grown far too quiet and looked as if she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

She blinked multiple times and then looked down into her lap before shaking her head resolutely. "No," she whispered, "maybe it's from exams stress."

Severus nodded and laid a hand on her knee as she continued to dab at the blood pouring from her nose. He didn't ask any more questions and watched her with a look of concern. For some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was lying to him. Students got migraines and anxiety attacks from exam stress; not severe nosebleeds.

After a while, the blood stopped flowing and Hermione closed her eyes as her cheeks went red and Severus feared that she would start to cry. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed a lump in his throat and then slowly got to his feet.

"I'll walk you to your rooms," he said and held out his hand, which she took gratefully.

They reached the corridor that held the guest rooms, in no time at all. It was near the Hufflepuff common room and Severus released her hand when she stopped outside a particular door.

"Sorry again," she said and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, obviously embarrassed.

Severus grasped her face in his hands and looked her in the eyes. His lips twitched into a smile as they continued to look at each other without talking. Hermione raised an eyebrow at his expression, but didn't question it. Then, as slowly as he could; he kissed her lips with a delicacy that did not come naturally to him.

Before she could deepen the kiss, he retracted his lips and kissed the shell of her ear. "Don't apologise for that which you cannot control," he whispered gently and only stepped back when he eventually felt her nod in reply.

It only occurred to him, as he reached the dungeons, that he did not find out what Weasley wanted her to tell him. Severus sighed and opened the door to his chambers. It couldn't have been that important anyway.