"You're drunk." Hermione pointed out rather dryly. Severus had been able to stand on his own, but he was swaying dangerously back and fourth and she could smell the stale sweetness of brandy on his breath. He didn't protest, but flapped his mouth a time or two before any sound came out of it.

"I am not." Severus said, though he certainly was tipsy. There wasn't much moon left and he didn't want the shadows of his rooms taking any precious moonlight away from him, so he had ventured outside as there were no overhanging trees on the parts of the grounds he navigated through to steal his light. Clutching his bottle to his chest as if it had been the most precious thing he owned, he had expected to be alone until he had seen Hermione and Draco run from Hagrid's Hut into the castle. He had stared at the door, getting lost in a muddled swirl of empty thoughts thinking he had imagined it, until Draco had reappeared running back to the Hut, a box Severus knew from sight clutched tightly between his pale hands. He had turned back to watch the door, waiting for Hermione to follow after and almost gave up when finally she reappeared, floating a cauldron beside her. Sneakily, he had followed her down to Hagrid's where he peered through a window and watched as the box Draco had possessed was being tipped over the potion. He had been holding his breath, only realizing it when it escaped him in one long and heavy sigh when it didn't work.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and tried to step past, but Severus grabbed her arm, swaying slightly as she pulled away.

"I want to talk." He said, expecting her to argue. When she didn't, and remained standing there expectantly, swaying, Severus found himself lost for words. He had hoped she'd argue, if only a little bit, to help get him started. Her toe, which had started tapping impatiently, had sent his mind reeling. So many things he wanted to say and every single word wanted to come out at once leaving no space for even a comprehensible word to happen. His hand holding the bottle went limp at his side, his shoulders slumped and his head hung slightly in defeat.

"I'm sorry." He said, causing Hermione's head to tilt. "Merlin, Hermione, I'm sorry." He found himself breathless, feeling as if he had just ran a marathon. "I'm an arse, not worthy of your affection, and I'm sorry."

Hermione was just as shocked, her arms dropping though she kept her hands tightly folded together at her hips and she shifted her weight on her feet. She hadn't expected an apology and hearing it had made her feel slightly guilty, though she didn't know why. As the silence pressed on between them, Severus began to turn sheepishly, a bit clumsily to leave, but she reached out in time to grab his arm. His black eyes stared for a moment at her hand, then moved to her face. She was neither sad nor happy, but was intently watching him back.

"Will you tell me what's going on?" She asked. Severus straightened up some, the hand holding the bottle lifting a few inches in an attempted shrug, but he sighed.

"I fear there's not enough time to explain."

Hermione dropped his arm. "Not enough time." She repeated tiredly, as if she didn't believe him, then brought her lips into a straight, tight line. Severus started, afraid he'd lose her attention and unsure how to word it let the words come out as they pleased.

"I'm fading, Hermione. As we speak I feel myself getting weaker. I thought pushing you away would lessen the pain for both of us, but it hasn't, it's made it worse and I'm a right git for even thinking it would help, but I'm losing, holding on is beyond my power and I'm fading regardless of what happens."

Hermione pointed a finger and began to prod at him gently.

"You feel quite solid to me." She said, but Severus shook his head, grabbing her hand with his.

"I'm being serious."

Hermione regarded him silently.

"I came back for a reason. To find love. And I found it." He said, brushing his hand tenderly against Hermione's fingers. He felt heavy, like he was experiencing all of his senses at once for the first time, and it caused him to sway under the effects of the alcohol he had consumed. Hermione had blushed and she figured he hadn't exactly heard himself speak until he had continued.

"I found it, and accepted it, and now I'm being called back."

"You've just had too much to drink." Hermione said. She took her hand from his, replacing it around his back, her other hand on his arm and she began to guide him to the castle. He obliged her for a few steps, then refused, holding against her pressure.

"I don't want to go in." He whispered.

"Some sleep will do you good." Hermione insisted, giving him a tug. In one quick motion, one Severus was too clumsy to stop, Hermione had managed to grab the bottle out of his hand. Severus reached for it, but she held it at bay. Incidentally, this was the lure she used, leading him into the castle and down the hallways into the dungeon, only returning it hesitantly when they were safely behind his door and he had stepped once more into the rays of faint moonlight that filtered through the few windows. Severus didn't want to go in, but he wasn't about to go without a drink either; it was the only thing he had that helped dull the worry, and the thing that made it bearable to speak his mind to her, and was forced to follow Hermione into his rooms.

"Did you mean it?" Hermione asked when too much time had passed between talking and she worried he had fallen asleep on his feet. "When you said you came back to find love and you found it?"

"I meant it." Severus whispered. It felt weird admitting it. Never before had he told anyone how he felt, and remained awkward no matter how much he wanted to scream it. He feared outright saying it, worrying that if the words left his lips he would cease to exist at that moment the last letter of the last word had been spoken. "I do mean it." He rephrased his answer, lifting the corners of his lips up slightly and watched Hermione blush under his gaze before he took a large swig from his bottle.

"I want to hear you say it." Hermione said. Severus paused in his drink, then finished in a hurry, shaking his head.

"I can't." He said, wincing slightly under her gaze that felt as hot as the fire she had started in his fireplace. "I mean I want to, but I can't...I..." Allowing himself to fall into his chair, he rubbed at his temples with one hand. "I'm not ready to leave." He said. Though the words were right there in his throat, nearly choking him and he would have gladly come out an expressed himself to her if their situation had been different, he knew he wanted to hang on to as much life as he had left and refused to so much as mutter anything that sounded like 'I love you.' Hermione lifted her nose at him, that look of disappointment returning again and she stood, brushing her hands against her robes, and turned sharply - a move that she no doubt had learned from him - and threatened to leave.

"Please!" He cried after her. "Please stay. Don't leave." There was a certain whine to his voice, something Hermione had never expected to hear from him. The look he was giving her had been so forlorn that she found herself unable to make it to the door. Sighing, she stepped back to the seat that was barely in the moonlight, but allowed enough power for Severus to reach out and pull her to him. She curled into his arms, though she wasn't ready to fully forgive him.

The room was slightly fuzzy when she woke, remembering how comfortable she had felt in Severus' arms that they had fallen asleep on the couch, and it took her a moment to realize that her head had sunken into his chest, the fuzziness had just been her own sight looking through Severus and when she lifted her head, his living room came clearly back into view. Her nose had grown cold, the ghost she was laying on providing no heat at all and if at all possible, seemed to suck it out of her like a vacuum. Somewhere between awake and asleep she had decided to let him win this round. She couldn't force him to say the words she wanted to hear, and wouldn't. He needed time and knowing that he at least was thinking along the lines had woken refreshed and ready to give another go at them. Then she looked over at him and panicked. Though he was normally an opalescent sheen and usually very slightly difficult to see, making out his outline had taken extra effort. As unusual as she thought it seemed, Severus had indeed faded, appearing to even be sickly if it was at all possible. Severus remained sleeping on the couch, a lackluster finish made it even harder to discern him from the couch itself. Reaching out, she placed her hand lightly above him, hovering it over his skin; he felt much colder than usual, though her frozen nose should have been the first indication something wasn't right. She sat back, then stood up and began searching the room almost frantically. How did one warm up a ghost?

Severus woke up as she took a chance and threw a blanket over him, and as expected at the last minute, the blanket floated right through him. He found it took all of his concentration to open his eyes and watch as she ran from the room in the direction of the bathroom. He heard water running and knew she was filling the bathtub. The water still audible, she appeared again noticing he had woken up.

"Come on." She said, knowing better than to reach out and try to grab him, settling instead for waving her arms in a 'follow me' motion. Severus pushed himself over, feeling lightheaded and had to rest a moment before he had enough muster to sit up. Floating was a bit easier, it was something that came second nature to him, and immediately floated himself above the couch a few inches.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice coming out more strained than he had ever heard it. The rush of vertigo hit him again as he spoke, and if he didn't know any better, could have said he had a sudden onslaught of the flu.

"Making you warm...er...warmer..." She waved her hand a bit more urgently and led the way. The bathroom had thickly steamed over by the time Severus had reached the door and pressed through it. It was like one large cloud had moved into his bathroom, one that was hot and sticky even against his own misty form. It did feel good though, and as Hermione had mimed him into the water, he did feel a bit warmer though he was certain it was just in his mind. He hadn't the strength to worry about it, allowing himself to fully submerge beneath the water. It felt nice and he would have liked to stay under the water for the rest of the day if it wasn't for Hermione, who had begun swirling the water with her hands. He let his head pop out of the water.

"This isn't working." Hermione said.

"It feels nice." He said, beginning to slip under the water again, but Hermione shook her head.

"You turned the water cold." She pouted, shaking her hands to bring feeling back into her frozen fingers. "I'm getting Pomfrey."

To Severus, the water felt fine, but Hermione didn't give him a chance to protest. She ran from the room, quickly making her way through the halls, and found herself in the hospital wing in no time. Pomfrey, however, had been nowhere near her office, and with the beds empty, wondered if she'd even be back soon. Knowing she'd have more luck running into her in the hospital wing than if she were to try and actively search her out within the castle, had sat upon a bed, her hands wringing together in her lap, and waited.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope it's off to a wonderful start for everyone, and as such, I figured I'd post this chapter. I wanted to add more, but it really has been a long time and didn't want to keep anyone waiting, so I edited (it was beginning to sound like the incident reports I write for work!). If anything it means an extra chapter or two for the story =^^= Well there you are! Hope you enjoyed! Posting should be happening more often now that the holidays are over and I'll have more free time to write. #MuchExcite