I apologise for not posting sooner, but life is a little crazy at the moment.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing, adding this story to favourites and story alerting it!

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Chapter 6

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Hermione waded her way through a sea of students, finally reaching her empty classroom. Her sixth years were on a field trip to Stonehenge, which gave her a rare free period before her second years came stomping through the door. Hermione sighed deeply as she entered the room, trying to forget her unsettling encounter with a boggart the previous night. Fortunately, Severus had been true to his word and had safely removed it.

A satisfied smile played on her lips as thoughts of the dark, brooding professor filled her mind. Hermione had tried, but couldn't erase the memory of being held in his arms. She relived listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, all the while breathing in his earthy scent. She wasn't sure how long she'd remained nestled in his embrace, but he had seemed as reluctant as she had been to pull away.

Naturally, she now felt like a fool. Not only had she been unable to defend herself against a boggart, but she'd collapsed to the floor, paralysed with fear. Whatever must Severus think of her now? Hermione sank down into her seat, wondering if he now thought less of her, or, Merlin forbid, merely pitied her. But as quickly as the thought formed, Hermione banished it, refusing to seriously consider it. She could not believe that her friendship with Severus was based upon pity.

A gentle tap on the window drew her attention away from her thoughts. Turning toward the sound, Hermione raised a curious eyebrow. She didn't recognise the tawny owl waiting patiently, and silently prayed it wasn't another unpleasant letter. After giving the owl a biscuit, she carefully removed the parchment attached to its leg, then settled back in her chair to read.

Dear Professor Granger,

As you know,we are fast approaching the twelfth anniversary of the Dark Lord's downfall. We at the Ministry therefore would be most delighted if you, along with Professor Snape,will attend the annual celebratory ball as our guests of honour.

I shall look forward to renewing your acquaintance.

Yours Truly,

Cornelius Fudge.

Hermione tossed the letter carelessly onto the desk. She wondered what excuse Harry and Ron had given to the Ministry, as they'd never before asked her to be a guest of honour in her own right. Previously, she'd always been invited as part of the Golden Trio. Realistically, she knew she would have to attend, as 'I'm cleaning my cauldrons that night,' would not sit too well with Fudge or the Ministry. She assumed Severus, like Harry and Ron, would somehow manage to escape the drudgery of the ball. Nevertheless, part of her secretly hoped that would not be the case.

Hermione folded the letter and filed it, then turned her mind back to her research. Severus, with his extensive knowledge in potions had been invaluable to her work over the past weeks. In fact, she'd made so much progress that she'd soon be able to start her practical experiments.

"Good morning, Hermione."

Severus stood in the entrance of her door, and Hermione's began to beat a little faster - he said her name. She wasn't exactly sure when her feelings for him had deepened, but after last night, she knew without a doubt she now loved him.

"Good morning," she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady. "Please, come in."

He entered the room, moving with slow, purposeful steps. His dark eyes burned with such intensity, that Hermione thought her heart would burst from her chest at any moment. When he finally stopped in front of her desk, she was suddenly thankful for the chair beneath her.

"I came to see how you are this morning," he said evenly.

Hermione studied his face for a brief moment, searching for any signs of disappointment or pity. She was relieved to find neither, but Severus' manner rarely betrayed his thoughts.

"Severus," she said, swallowing hard. "I…there is something I need to tell you about last night."

He stared at her for a long moment, then said, "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"I want to." She placed her trembling hands on her lap. "I was attacked four years ago. Harry and several other aurors carried out an investigation for months, but found nothing. When the boggart took on the form of one of them, I-I…"

Hermione turned away from him, unable to continue. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed for him to see her this way. At that moment his hand came to rest on hers, gently squeezing it. Finally, she dared to meet his gaze, almost afraid of what he would say.

After what seemed like an age, Severus finally spoke. "I have known wizards who have crumbled at less. But you, Hermione, have not allowed this to imprison you, and I admire you for it."

Hermione dropped her gaze once more. "I'm not that brave. Really."

Still holding her hand, Severus rounded the desk, slowly drawing Hermione to her feet. He then tipped her chin, and said quietly, "You're braver than you think."

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, then fought back the tears brimming in her eyes. After Ron, Hermione had not trusted her heart to another man, until now.

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"Severus, what are you doing here?"

The hint of a smirk tugged on the corner of Severus' mouth at the surprised expression on Hermione's face. He'd found her London townhouse with little difficulty, although, he'd known better than to floo directly into the living room. This is, if he had been able to dismantle the wards she'd erected.

"I'm here for the ball," he said dryly.

Hermione hand flew to her mouth as she feigned shock. "Who are you, and what have you done to Severus?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, failing to find any amusement in her comment. "Well, are you going to let me in, or must I stand here all night?"

"I'm glad to see you too, Severus," she laughed.

As he entered Hermione's house he noticed, that she had furnished it modestly, despite having the wealth to be more extravagant. She led him into a cosy parlour, with a fire already burning brightly. Shelves, filled with books new and old lined one of the walls, and pictures, both muggle and magic, were carefully placed about the room.

He cast a glance in her direction, noting her shapely figure in the muggle clothes she wore. But the sudden stirring in his loins forced him to quickly avert his gaze. If only she realised the power she had over him.

Hermione motioned for him to sit, before sinking down in the sofa opposite him. The past weeks had done little to dampen his feelings for her. If anything, his feelings had only deepened. Nevertheless, he was uncertain if she regarded him as anything more than a good friend and was not willing to risk his closest friendship since Lily, until he knew.

"I didn't think you were going to attend tonight," she said, getting straight to the point.

"I had every intention of not attending," he replied.

She stared at him curiously for a moment, but realisation soon spread across her face. "So that's what Lucius wanted to speak with you about."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"He's as shrewd as ever," Hermione observed, but the slight tip of her mouth did not escape his notice.

"Indeed. Apparently, being photographed with the guests of honour will not go to waste in continuing to redeem the Malfoy name."

"Well, you are more than welcome to stay here for the night," she said. her expression coy.

Severus saw the colour rising in her cheeks, wondering if she'd quickly regretted her words. However, he knew he should make other arrangements, for her sake. The last thing he wanted was for the columns of the Daily Prophet to be filled with unfounded gossip, claiming she was in a relationship with him.

"Hermione…" he began, but she swiftly cut him off.

"Come, I'll show you to the guest room." She rose from the sofa. "I'm sure you will want to rest and freshen up before the ball."

Severus almost smirked at her matter of fact tone. Almost.

A few hours later, Severus stood by the hearth in the parlour. He absently watched the flames, which he'd recently stoked with a flick of his wand. While waiting patiently for Hermione, he'd scoured through her extensive book collection, impressed with her choice of titles. Upstairs, he heard her door open and, after a few seconds, he walked to the hall to meet her.

His dark eyes widened at the sight of her – she was stunning. The modest black dress and hooded cloak she wore, only served to accentuate her already shapely figure. Severus suddenly lowered his gaze, realising he was gawking at her like an awkward teenager. But as she drew nearer, he could smell her perfume; the scent gently permeating his senses. As she placed a hand on his arm, he swallowed hard.

Hermione flashed him a disarming smile. "Shall we floo to the ball, Professor?"

"Yes, of course," he said, barely managing to control the unfamiliar emotions.

Once by the fire, Hermione threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace, then said, "Ministry of Magic, Whitehall."

Heads turned as they entered the ball room, with some guests openly gaping at Severus. Others whispered conspicuously, no doubt wondering where he had been 'hiding' for the last twelve years. Soon, the band stopped playing, with the crowd parting to allow Cornelius Fudge through. Immediately, Severus felt uncomfortable. His gaze found Lucius amongst the crowd and his eyes narrowed.

"Welcome, Professors," Fudge said. "We are delighted that you have joined us."

"We are honoured to be here," Hermione said respectfully.

Severus could only bring himself to nod at Fudge. He would rather be anywhere but here. After exchanging several more pleasantries, others began to surge forward to greet them. Within moments, Severus was parted from Hermione and almost instantly bombarded with questions. When Rita Skeeter pushed her way through the throng to him, he groaned inwardly.

"Severus," Lucius said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "So glad you could make it."

"Yes, I'm sure you are," Severus said dryly.

The blond wizard turned to the eager partygoers, then said. "I'm afraid I shall have to steal the Professor away."

"Mr Malfoy," Rita Skeeter said, quill at the ready. "Have you been in contact with Professor Snape all these years?"

"What sort of friend would I be if I hadn't," Lucius replied smoothly.

Before Rita Skeeter or anyone else, for that matter, could fire off another question, Lucius led Severus away. He was not surprised when no one followed; clearly Lucius' former reputation continued to instil a certain amount of fear.

"I didn't think I'd see you here tonight, Severus," Lucius said, once they were safely out of earshot.

"You are a persuasive man, Lucius," Severus replied, his pale features expressionless.

Lucius glanced across the room. "Perhaps I'm not the only one."

"What?"

The older wizard twirled his cane in his right hand, then said in a rather casual tone, "I don't think I've ever seen Granger looking so well."

"I hadn't noticed," Severus replied blandly.

Severus knew Lucius was baiting him. He wanted a reaction. He knew the blond wizard much too well to take what he said at face value. Lucius obviously had deduced that it was not at his insistence that Severus had come tonight. But he would be damned if he let Hermione spend a weekend in London unprotected.

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Finally, Hermione found her chance to escape. She made for the nearest exit for some much needed fresh air. But as she reached the door, her path was blocked by a dishevelled, intoxicated Ron Weasley.

"Ron," she said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"You're looking good, Hermione," he slurred.

Faced with her former lover, Hermione fought to control the torrent of emotions welling up within her. She no longer loved Ron; at least, not in the way she now loved Severus. He stared down at her, with a look she knew only too well. He wanted her.

"Where's Lavender?" she asked, gulping nervously.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "At home with the kids."

Suddenly aware of the danger she was in, Hermione side stepped him. "Goodnight, Ron," she simply said.

"Hey, I only just got here." He caught her arm. "Come on, 'Mione, how about one dance, for old time's sake."

"Ron, let me go."

"I still think about you, about us," he said ruefully.

"Don't, Ron," Hermione said, trying to free her arm. "Go home to your wife."

"What happened between us?" He brushed his knuckles across her cheek.

"You know bloody well what happened," she spat angrily.

"Let go of her, Weasley."

Relief coursed through her at the sound of Severus' voice.

"What's she to you, Snape?" Ron snapped.

"I will not ask you again. Let her go," Severus glowered at Ron, his voice soft, but with an undercurrent of menace.

Disdain filled Ron's face as he turned to Hermione, then said scornfully, "You're involved with that greasy git? Ew, how could you?"

Ron shoved her away, only to have his way blocked by Snape. By now however, several guests had gathered to watch, so Severus grudgingly stepped aside. The Quidditch star was quickly surrounded by adoring fans, unfazed by his drunken slurs.

Hermione, now incensed and embarrassed, hurried from the room. Once outside, she ducked into the shadows and leaned back against a wall. Hot, angry tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let Ron's behaviour break her.

"Hermione?"

Oh, Merlin,she thought, and her hands began to tremble.

"I'm over here, Severus," she said quietly.

He entered the shadows silently, then said, "Are you all right?"

"I-I'm fine," she assured him.

Her pulse raced as Severus cupped her face in his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," she said, it was barely a whisper.

He drew nearer, closing the space between them. She felt herself come alive as his dark gaze held hers. His arm encircled her waist, and Hermione did not resist as he pulled her tight against him. Heat flooded every inch of her, loving the feel of his firm, lean body next to hers.

Severus ran a long finger across the smooth skin of her cheek. "He was a fool to ever give you up."

"Severus…I..."

He silenced her with a devastating kiss, taking command of her mouth. Hermione closed her eyes, relishing the taste of his lips on hers. Her hands slid up his chest, with her fingers quickly becoming lost in his silky dark hair.

Hermione caught her breath as he finally released her. She sank into his strong embrace, resting her head on his chest. Once more, she breathed in his heady scent, wishing this moment never to end.

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Thanks Tracy!