* 10 *

She couldn't explain it, but she had a maddening desire to spend more time with her now-favorite professor. She decided to drop her belongings off in Gryffindor Tower (who would be there at dinner time?) before going down to dinner. When she got to the common room, however, she spotted Ron.

"Ron! What are you doing here?" she asked, a bit flustered.

"Why aren't you at dinner?" he asked, ignoring her question and tapping his foot expectantly.

Hermione knit her eyebrows and gave him a look. "Why aren't you at dinner?" she returned, her anger mounting.

"I came up here to get some stuff." He didn't continue, and Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"Well, I have to be getting to dinner, so…" Hermione started, but quickly realized her mistake. She wasn't going back down to the Great Hall for more than a minute or two, and Ron would yet again wonder where she'd left to.

"Then why'd you come up here?" he inquired, staring at her.

Hermione moaned in exasperation at his pushiness and plopped her books down on the table by the fire. "To put down my books! What's it to you?"

"You could just drop them off after dinner instead of making Harry and me wait."

"I thought you weren't waiting for me anymore! Besides, you're not my parent! You can have dinner without me for one bloody night, and you don't have to scold me for being late, Professor Weasley!"

Before Ron had a chance to respond, Hermione turned and trounced out of the room, hurrying down to the Great Hall, desperate to snatch a plate of food before Ron got the same idea. She muttered a quick and moody "Hi, Harry," and was gone before Harry had fully whirled around to see her.

"What's gotten into her?" Harry asked Ron, baffled by the sheer swiftness of what had just happened.

"No idea, mate. I never have any bloody idea," Ron replied sourly.

Ron entered the hall just as Hermione left. He caught a glimpse of her bushy brown hair and shook his head moodily. He had a sudden intuition that he should follow her, but the smells of the food in the hall reminded him of his ravenous hunger. He sat down next to Harry without a word and buried his face into his plate.

Hermione arrived in the dungeons and put her plate on the desk closest to Snape. Snape gave her frown an inquiring look.

"What's gotten you so upset?"

When Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and simply explicated, "Ron's being ridiculous," he nodded in immediate understanding. He wasn't surprised in the least; their constant bickering was quite visible even during class.

"I see," he said with a smirk. He watched as she ate at her desk. Waiting for her to look up and notice the chair he had procured for her, he soon realized that his attempt was in vain. "There's a second seat up here," he instructed.

Hermione looked up and saw the seat he was referring to. "Oh, is there?" she said airily, clearly a little bit nervous as she rose with her plate in hand and made to sit down by where he was standing.

Snape sat as she did and turned left to face her, resuming watching her as she ate. Hermione was made a bit uncomfortable by this, but thankfully she had finished most of her meal at the desk anyway, and soon pushed her plate away from her. She caught Snape's eye, who was analyzing her as if she was a most interesting experiment.

Figuring now was as good a time as any to tell him, she started, "I don't know how often I'll be able to do this, you know… I just felt that, because we practiced Banishing Charms last week, I'm already ahead on my lessons and had no need to go to the library tonight…"

"'No need to go to the library'?" Snape teased in his drawl with raised brows, pretending to be astounded. It was the first time he had acknowledged that Hermione was an incurable bookworm, and she laughed, feeling like a complete nerd to be called out by her own professor.

"No. Not for tonight, at least," she corrected. "Harry told me he had worked out the clue inside his golden egg a week ago, but it turns out he was only lying to get me off his back," she said with a sigh. She was still very upset about her best friend's unnecessary lie – she had seen absolutely no need for it.

"He finally has it this time, though, and tomorrow I'm going to help him research something he's looking for quite constantly in the library. Until we find something, I'll be spending most of my free time there. I didn't want to spend today in there too."

Snape nodded in understanding.

Unabashedly, Hermione picked up her chair and scooted closer to him. Up close, she could better see the changes her presence wrought in his face: his sable eyes customarily softened for her now, and the closer she got to him, the more his lips parted in an expression of curiosity, as if to consider what her next move might be.

She wondered how he would react to her laying her head on his collarbone like she had done at the ball. Inspired, she got as close to him as possible, and did.

Snape was getting more used to Hermione's blatant shows of affection, and as such, he hesitated for a shorter time than usual before sliding his arm across her back, letting it come to rest around her waist. Hermione entered the familiar warmth of her favorite long, black cloak, and began to feel more docile as her moments in his arms lingered on. She seemed to always let her defenses down when they were physically close, and it was so effortless for her to relax.

Then Hermione remembered what Harry and Ron had said about Snape, and she lifted her head a minuscule amount as she broke the silence.

"I heard that—" She stopped herself mid-sentence – with Snape giving her an odd look – as an unpleasant thought occurred to her. How would Snape think she had found out about the previous night's events if Harry hadn't actually been there, trapped in the stairs and blabbing to her about it afterward? That was the only logical conclusion for him to draw. She couldn't leave Harry to the wolves like that.

She reworded what she wanted to say. "I mean, have you gotten any closer to finding who has been stealing from your stores?"

"No, but I found that my office was broken into yet again last night," he replied dryly. He didn't go on.

Hermione didn't push the subject, even though she were deathly curious. She had wanted to ask Snape about his thoughts on why Mr. Crouch would be stealing from him, but she couldn't bring him up without Snape finding out that Harry was indeed on those steps the night before, just as he had thought. He was sharp, and would likely have a theory or two.

An unexpected daydream began to split Hermione's attention. Her mind drifted, and she began to marvel at Snape's intelligence – he would indeed have a theory about Mr. Crouch's thievery. It seemed nothing could go unnoticed by the slick, intellectual misanthrope. To be a potions master indeed required a certain attention to detail, but it was as if this was one of Snape's greatest strengths. With their past encounters, Snape had made a face to react to her every movement, whether his disposition became indifferent to mask his attraction or receptive and open to allow himself to indulge in his feelings.

Hermione mused aloud to Snape, "You're…very unique, Professor."

Snape's eyes were gazing into hers, but now he drew back, looking almost offended. "What do you mean?"

"I don't mean it like that," she said, dismissing his haughty look and hastening to get whatever he thought she meant out of his head. "You're so quiet, and you always pay such close attention."

For some reason, complimenting him made her feel giddy, so she continued, "And you're an amazingly accomplished and talented wizard." She stopped, feeling a little lightheaded at realizing for herself his strengths, as if speaking of them aloud made them more real. She was surprised as to the reality that she was now growing closer to this incredible man, who had such skill in potions and magic, and even the darkest, most complicated arts.

There was a pause during which Snape regarded her. "Perhaps you haven't considered my…quietness…to be due to my unwillingness to deal with most people."

"Oh, believe me, I have," she said all too quickly, the blinking celerity with which she said it etching a curious expression onto Snape's face.

Hermione felt a sudden burst of courage, and felt that now was the time to ask the question that had been burning on her mind. "What I want to know is why you're letting me get to you…" she ventured quite boldly, "you know, in this way."

She heard a nervous intake of breath from behind her. Taking her head from his chest, she looked up into his face. He appeared to be holding his breath.

"You seem…to want to become closer to me," Snape admitted after some hesitation. Finally, it was his turn to look uncomfortable.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I do." She reached up across his chest to place her left hand on his other shoulder, squeezing him. "Has it been working?"

She could no longer see his face, but she imagined how his visage must appear. "Yes," he said quietly, so that she almost had to strain her ears. Luckily, his voice was deep and unmistakable.

"I'm so glad," she smiled. She closed her eyes and rested against his chest, positioning herself comfortably so she didn't have to strain her back to lean on him. She sighed against his cloak, and soon the only sound in the room came from her breath rustling his cloak.

Snape eyed the room, as if verifying for one last time that no one else was there. When he was satisfied, or at least less suspicious of the apparently threatening and dangerous inanimate objects on the walls, he laid his head on top of hers and closed his eyes as well.

Minutes later, Snape was brought back to awareness by Hermione's sudden, deep breathing. He was stunned, both that she had begun to nap against him and that she could even manage to rest in that seemingly uncomfortable position, leaning on his chest.

Not wanting to wake her, but worried that she'd be discovered the next morning in the admittedly unlikely event that she overslept and was late to tomorrow's classes, he fumbled with ideas of what else he could do in his head. Then he realized that tomorrow was a Saturday.

He sighed in relief, and he pulled his cloak over her like a blanket and allowed his eyes to rest again. If he was going to see her only once a week from now on, and if that time would be spent in potions instruction, then he would enjoy the time he had with her now. For this reason, he had no impetus to wake her.

Snape focused all of his attention on the sound her soft breathing made, pushing every other thought out of his mind. This was relaxing and meditative. After listening only to her sleepy sighs for a few minutes, his head began to go fuzzy, and he joined Hermione, drifting off…

They were both awoken by the sound of loud, approaching footsteps outside the door. Shocked and feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Hermione jumped away from her professor and got to her feet, folding her arms but not knowing what else to do to seem less conspicuous if someone walked in. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

Snape only stood, listening carefully to the banter outside. It grew quieter the longer he paid attention. He concluded that the din was only coming from a pack of rowdy students, rumbling through the halls with raised voices for no reason other than because they lacked common courtesy.

After the footsteps died down, Hermione realized she had no idea what time it was. Shakily, she stated, "I should go." She was still a little scared. Her heart had practically leapt out of her chest when she felt like she and Snape were about to be caught, and she didn't want to risk it again.

Snape inwardly cursed the noisy students, but had to agree with her: being caught would elicit terrible consequences for the both of them, and they absolutely could not risk it. He hoped this scare would not change her behavior toward him in future encounters, but he also comprehended with great disappointment that this had been his last chance to spend time in such close proximity to her, since she would be far too busy in the coming weeks to pay him many visits. He nodded, feeling disheartened.

"I'll see you Tuesday, Professor." She looked at him once more, then opened the classroom door and left, leaving him with lingering thoughts about the precious, close moments they had just spent together. After allowing himself a moment to become lost in his mind to cement these memories, Snape came back to his senses and exited the classroom.