Disclaimer:- My plot is mine,however, I neither own nor earn anything from this story.Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling and her affiliates.

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A/N:- A reminder that the numbers in brackets after a piece of music that is mentioned, refers to the notes at the end so you can hear what Severus and Hermione are listening to. All your wonderful comments on the flower puzzle in last chapter have made me very happy, thank you. It took a lot of research to make that work. Also a big thank you to my beta, Golden Asp, for her work on this chapter.

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Chapter X – Of Bonding and finger wiggling

Collecting a book, Severus headed towards the hospital wing. Poppy was still in her office, and she looked irritatingly pleased to see him. Piece of cake, said his Slytherin brain. "Ah Poppy, you're still up. I've decided to repay you for stitching me back together by sitting up for you tonight."

"That is not necessary, Severus, I'm fine."

"Nonsense, you look exhausted," he assured her. "Allow me to make some tea for you."

"Severus, I'm fine," she protested in reply.

He ignored her, and did not even wish to know why her cheeks were colouring a little. "Here you go, camomile tea with a dash of honey to relax you." He placed the brewed beverage before her, careful not to sound the least bit enthusiastic. Sitting opposite her, he waited while he sipped his own. It didn't take long and she relaxed and started to yawn. "It appears you're more tired than you thought, Poppy," he drawled mesmerizingly.

"Possibly I am," she said appearing quite puzzled. "Well, if you're offering to stay up and give Miss Granger her potions then maybe I will get some sleep."

His eyebrow slid slyly aloft. "Is there anything else that needs seeing to?"

"No, only Miss Granger's midnight potion, which completes her twenty four hour course. If she's careful to rest," Poppy slurred her words as she looked more puzzled and yawned again, "then it won't take her long to regain her strength."

"Indeed, that is good to hear. I can manage Miss Granger's potion, good night, Poppy."

"Good night, Severus, and thank you."

He watched her drag herself to her quarters and smiled. "You're welcome, Poppy." Smirking, he patted the partially empty phial in his coat pocket. He felt a momentary pang of guilt, but then grabbed her cup and used a strong scouring charm to clean it well before leaving and shutting her office door.

As he headed out into the main ward, he looked towards Hermione's room, but then turned around and placed alarms on the Floo and doors to alert him of anyone's approach. Especially that miscreant Potter, and his confounded invisibility cloak, he thought contemptuously, but then sighed. He did feel slightly guilty for drugging Poppy, and to ease his conscience over it, he thought, well she did deserve a good night's sleep. I really haven't done her a disservice, and he walked towards the room containing the sleeping young woman as he muttered, "Tempus." The time flashed brightly in front of him. "Eleven fifteen," he sighed settling into the large wing backed chair beside her bed as he extracted his book from his coat pocket.

The young woman murmured in her sleep and turned over to face him, and this instantly took his attention. He wondered what had caused her to do that. Maybe just a coincidence, he considered, but now her face was towards him, all thoughts of reading fell from his mind. The sereneness that sleep provided made her face glow tonight. It also pleased him to see she was a much better colour. Her soft bow-like mouth, partially open, drew his immediate attention, and his eyes fixated on it as he found himself unconsciously wetting his lips.

This scared him; he appeared to have little control over it, or of the growing awareness of her magic reaching out to his. It was disconcerting. She seemed as consciously aware of his presence as he was of hers and she was somehow craving his attention.

There had been several dreams of late where that sensation had fuelled realistic fantasies... but whose? He'd thought them only his; he needed distance again, to think. Severus was abruptly out of the chair and back into the ward, a lump rising in his throat. Damn this persona I'm forced to endure. He wanted to run, but he had sewn all the edges together so neatly, and he had trapped himself. Fuck, I'm such a smart arse, and looking down at his hands he realised they were shaking. Could this actually be reality, even without the affinity, does she in point of fact already care for me? Remember what she said last night.

He needed to calm himself, taking a deep cleansing breath, Severus realised he needed his music. Striding into Poppy's office, he raised his wand and piano music (1) instantly flowed around him. His audible sigh also helped, and setting an alarm for eleven fifty five he closed his eyes, willing his mind to close around the emotions and cocoon them safely. It would only bring horror if he couldn't do this, so it needed to be practiced.

The music caressed him gently as he sat in Poppy's office chair and drifted to his ethereal plane of safety, his one remaining private inner-sanctum. If he could trust her enough, he could take her where his persona could peel off to reveal the person he desperately wanted her to see things might just work. Tonight would be an experiment to ascertain whether this might be possible once she was not a student.

He sighed again. Can I really contemplate this? Even though I seem to be getting encouragement from all sides, it's all so foreign. I've never had the opportunity of making another friend since Lily, have I forgotten how? Did I ever know? My friendship with her was less than a roaring success. He sighed once more. I guess only time will tell.

xox

Approximately ten minutes ago Hermione's dream had changed. She suddenly felt lost and cold. Something changed, but she didn't know what. She had felt so warm and secure, but then a sudden coldness. Shivering, she drifted out of sleep, and something profoundly beautiful shifted into her hearing. It felt surreal to start with, was she at home? She hadn't heard that since she had needed solace over summer. She must be still dreaming.

The young woman blinked hard several times and her gaze drifted around the room. No, definitely still at Hogwarts. She sat up. The urge to reach the source of the music was overwhelming. Gingerly slipping her legs over the side of the bed, her thought processes were practical. Okay, legs are shaky, but holding me up, yes. Smiling at this small achievement, she continued her internal monologue. Right, first things first, bathroom, she shrugged shakily into her dressing gown and slippers, looking determinedly at the door in the opposite wall of the little room.

Relieved, and her teeth clean as well—an irritatingly ingrained habit—she listened. Yes I can still hear it. Hermione hurried towards the comfort, terrified that it would escape her before she managed to find it. Rushing to the door she realised her head was swimming now she was up-right, so moving fast was not a good plan. She grasped the door frame to right herself, standing there panting softly as she felt a thin sheen of perspiration making itself known on her top lip. After resting a moment she slowly made her way towards what she craved, clinging to the wall for support.

Severus had vaguely heard her stir through his self-imposed mist, and one part of his brain left his comfort to find her as he realised her presence was getting slowly closer. Why can I sense that so clearly? He wondered. It came as no surprise when he heard a breathy voice, but what it gushed airily did surprise him greatly.

"I simply love, L'Alouette."

Severus refused to react until he was sure his voice was in control. "Indeed, Miss Granger," and his eyes slowly opened to meet hers.

The gentleness of his words shocked her somewhat, and then more after watching her a moment when he continued speaking.

"You don't seem surprised to find me here."

"Should I be?" Hermione's head was letting her down again and she held on tighter to the doorframe. "Haven't you just made it beautifully and elaborately clear you wish... a closer acquaintance?"

"Elaborately?" he chuckled. "You think our little game… elaborate?"

Hermione watched as he quirked his head, and that elegant eyebrow rose smoothly.

She quivered to her core. "Y-yes, s-sir," she stuttered. "It was elaborate, fun and... oh so very sweet," she breathed as she locked onto his gaze.

As if trying to gain some control he felt he'd lost, he scolded her. "You should not be out of bed," but his voice was still calm and gentle, even with a firm edge to it, and he could see that the way he wielded it as a tool made her quiver. He stood. "Come," he encouraged and the music ceased.

Hermione immediately felt bereft, cold. She wanted the music back, but there was something far more urgent as she realised that even if she had wanted to 'come' as he'd instructed; the only thing holding her up was her shaky grip on the door frame. It was as though the music had sustained her efforts to get where she was. She looked up as Severus paused before her, and there was panic in her eyes. "I'm not sure that's possible," she whispered fearfully.

Hearing the note of panic in her voice, and seeing it plainly in her eyes he calmly inspected her. There was perspiration dappling her brow and upper lip, and she had a white-knuckled grip on the door frame. He knew the moment her legs buckled and he was there, sweeping her into his grasp like she weighed nothing. He may have only been whip-thin himself, but he was strong and fit.

Hermione felt the swift movement then the security of being cradled against his chest. Unable to help herself she rested her head on it and cursed weakly, "Damn!"

She heard a low rumble come from his chest and his murmured breath caressed her hair like a sweet smelling breeze as he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't mean for that to happen, I don't like being vulnerable," and she glanced up at him, blushing furiously.

"Indeed," she heard, he sounded unconvinced.

Hermione felt the need to explain further as she examined her hands. "I'm sorry to put you to this trouble," Her voice had grown so tiny.

Severus stopped. He looked down at the trembling bundle in his arms, and many things passed through his mind. "Surprisingly, it is no trouble, Miss Granger," he finally stated flatly, but found that he genuinely felt it to be true.

It was said more kindly then she'd ever heard him speak and she graced him with a tiny smile.

"Now, back to bed, you obviously need more rest," he declared a moment later. "We will speak further another time." He walked her to her room and lightly placed her back on her bed. "First things first," he stated as right on cue the alarm he'd set went off. "I'll get you your potion." With work-like detachment he disappeared out the door, leaving a flustered and confused woman to arrange herself back into her bed.

When he returned he had schooled his features once more, and she watched him warming the potion, as disappointment surged through her. No, I am not letting him close off again, she thought. "Sir?"

"What is it, Miss Granger?" his voice contained no hint of irritation.

This encouraged her to ask her question. "Could I hear the music again, please?" She was certain she saw the corner of his mouth rise a fraction but he said nothing, and a moment later the music wafted over her once more.

This time the burst of gold from the potion occurred a millisecond after her sigh of contentment as she sank back into the comfort of it, and when he handed her the potion she smiled. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded to her. "You're welcome, Miss Granger," and then he smirked at her. "Now sleep or it goes again."

"That's black mail," she gasped, handing him back the empty phial.

His eyebrow swept upward. "Indeed, and you can't do a thing about it..."

"So sleep, I know," she finished his sentence for him and smiled. "Will you sit with me?"

He watched her a moment and huffed liked she was being painfully irritating, but he sat anyway and retrieved his book from his coat pocket.

Silence settled, apart from the music, and Hermione slid down her bed a little and cuddled one of her pillows while she watched him intently as he read.

Finally, he sighed and placed the book on his lap. "Do you not have the energy to shoot your hand in the air?" His smirk at her told her it was humour. "Not enough energy to wiggle your fingers incessantly, Mmm?"

"My fingers do not wiggle incessantly," she stated, aghast.

"Oh please, from one who has been the object of your excessive finger wiggling for the past six and a bit years, believe me when I tell you, your fingers truly are relentless."

"I'm certain I completely stopped finger wiggling in my fourth year," she huffed, blushing crimson, as biting her lip, she admitted, "It was about the same time Harry informed me that when I sat up straight and animatedly wiggled my fingers in the air… other things jiggled as well, and all the boys in the class were... err looking."

"Indeed," Severus smoothed, arching his eyebrow gracefully.

Hermione was astounded anew that he could infuse such meaning into one word. She worried her lip further with her teeth, before continuing softly, "I decided it was just too distracting."

She was so awfully serious, and he couldn't help his next comment. "How terribly magnanimous of you," he smirked, but she could see he was having trouble stifling a smile. "Now go to sleep."

The air remained charged with silence, until, "Sir?"

"What did I tell you, I knew it was coming, Miss Granger has a question," Severus accused animatedly.

"But I didn't wiggle my fingers at all," she countered playfully.

He sighed. "No, granted, my apprentice, there was no finger wiggling evident at all. What is your question?"

"Where is Madam Pomfrey?"

He pursed up his lips and lent forward conspiratorially. "I drugged her and sent her to bed."

Hermione spluttered, "You what!?"

He tsked and rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep, Miss Granger."

However, determined for at least part of an answer, Hermione changed tack. "No, maybe I mean, why are you here?"

She heard him sigh once more. "I work here, you may remember I have tried diligently to install a knowledge of Potions into dim brained students..." but there was no real malice behind his words, and Hermione cut him off.

"I know six and a bit years," she chuckled, then sighed. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, that's it," he threatened sharply, but looked at her like he was about to genuinely smile. "The music goes."

"No, not the music," she enthused dramatically, extending her arm and accidently wiggling her fingers without thinking. "I'll go to sleep, I promise."

He latched onto the finger wiggling. "Aha, I rest my case, finger wiggling."

Hermione's hand shot under the pillow. "Damn," she huffed, turning to grin at him. "Good night, sir," she enthused as the grin settled into a contented smile.

"Good night, Miss Granger, sleep well," he replied almost cheerfully. Hermione watched him for another moment. "Will you be comfortable enough, sir?"

"Good night, Miss Granger," he said more emphatically, then looking at her genuine concern he added, "I'll be fine, do not concern yourself."

Snape watched Hermione from under his lashes as she tried to unsuccessfully settle down, and after pretending to read for six pages he finally asked, "Do you wish a sleeping potion, Miss Granger?"

"No, but a cup of tea would be nice. I normally have one before bed. I must admit I didn't realise how much of an ingrained habit it had become."

"Very well, tea it is." Drawing his wand he pointed to the bedside table and a fine china mug arrived. Hermione watched as it filled with aromatic tea. He obviously had a pot somewhere else in the castle.

She saw Severus raise an eyebrow, and she understood his question, which puzzled her, but she answered. "Oh, just a little milk, please." It smelt amazing. Hermione picked it and blew on it before taking a sip, she was about to say thank you, but what came out could only be described as a moan. "Oh! This is amazing. How am I ever going to drink normal tea again?"

"Settle down, Miss Granger; it's only tea."

"It most certainly is not only tea, what's in it?"

He chuckled happily. "Would you have a brewer give away all of his secrets?"

"No, just as long as you tell me," she countered, smiling cheekily.

"No," he said. "It's my concoction, and will remain so," then looking at her, he added, "Now drink your tea and go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," and this time she rolled her eyes at him.

He pretended not to notice and went back to his book.

Hermione hid her smile behind the mug. How had her evening taken this turn? Over the past months she had been given tiny glimpses of the Potions master's human side, but she was still more than astounded that he would choose to share it so fully with her on this occasion. Maybe he still feels guilty over this morning?

She sighed contentedly. Nevertheless she felt very privileged to have finally seen it in full view. However, she couldn't help wondering sadly if this was a one off experience. I really hope not. She finished her tea as she considered this, and finally found herself yawning. She took one last look at the man in black, apparently deeply engrossed in his book, and her eyes started to close. He was beautiful. Elegant and sweet too, and she desperately wanted to get out of bed and climb up onto the chair to be in his arms once more. She had felt totally at peace while he carried her before, even if it had flustered her and had only been because she couldn't walk.

She plainly knew not many would agree with her opinion of him, but she didn't care and smiling she closed her eyes, letting the music, which had changed several times and was now another of her favourites, a Chopin nocturne (2), lull her to sleep as she lay there feeling profoundly secure from this most amazing man's presence.

Severus looked up when he finally sensed her drift off, and he smiled at how comfortable their banter had been. Sighing softly, he extending the chair into a more comfortable place so his long legs were also resting and he settled down to think. He knew he shouldn't stay, but he couldn't make himself move.

He glanced down at the book he was reading. What was the best way to inform her of what was actually happening between them? He was aware that she knew something of it, but she couldn't possibly understand it all yet. Best to only explain the bare facts to start with. Then there was the problem of other people, especially Dumbledore and his confounded ability to confuse people into letting slip with things without their knowledge.

Gazing at the sleeping young woman, he considered a moment. He was certain she would be a match for the old buzzard. In fact, he would see to it personally that she was. This bond was too personal to share. It was no one's business but his and Hermione's, and especially not the business of unscrupulous wizards who would use it as leverage for what they wanted. Then he considered that in some ways the Dark Lord was actually more honest than Dumbledore. Both of them could be very brutal, but at least with the Dark Lord you knew to expect it; he never lulled you into a false sense of security before striking.

It was at this point that his mind started to wander. He had never thought of his blend of tea as anything special, even though he preferred it to all other blends he'd tried. Obviously he needed to rethink that. I must finally be getting tired, he mused sleepily. Stretching up to lock his hands behind his head he dozed off with a vague feeling on contentment thrumming through him.

xox

As was his custom, Severus rose early and made the chair an ordinary seat one more. He was about to vanish all but the Hellebore, being ever vigilant. We mustn't have any questions, must we? his brain decided, but then he turned to look at the still sleeping Hermione. It occurred to him that she may wish to keep the flowers. Sighing he whispered, "Lotti."

The elf arrived with a faint pop, but remained silent.

"Take all but these, to little lioness' room and arrange them beside her bed."

The elf nodded and bowed, not speaking, and was gone as quickly as she'd come, taking the flowers with her.

When she had departed Severus looked back to Hermione and saw she was still peaceful, but then his eyes strayed to the book resting on the bedside table. Feeling in his pocket he withdrew the one he'd been reading the previous night and placed it down with the little green volume. He was about to depart for the matron's office but paused, and extracting a quill and parchment from his pocket, he scrawled a quick note and placed it inside the cover of the book. Then thinking of the need for confidentiality, he pointed his wand to add a privacy charm as well. When satisfied, he quietly turned on his heel and left Hermione to sleep.

It felt extremely surreal to him that he had just spent the night next to Hermione Granger's bed and he had enjoyed her company intensely before sleep took her. He settled himself in Poppy's office to await her before he went down for breakfast, thinking that he would give it some time now, and see what his new apprentice's reaction was.

xox

Hermione was surprised to discover she had slept very peacefully, and stretching she found herself much stronger today. Surveying the room silently she wondered yet again whether it had all been a dream, it certainly still felt surreal. Surely Professor Snape hadn't come to her last night and offered friendship. Hermione pushed herself up the pillows and her eyes rested on the Hellebore; where had the other flowers gone? That spoke of imagining it all, surely. Her slightly disappointed eyes moved to the bedside table, and she gasped. Two books now. Her hand was just reaching to pick them up when Madam Pomfrey entered the room. Hermione abandoned the idea of picking up the book, and her eyes turned to the door as the matron came in, in her usual bustling style.

"Ah you're finally with us again," she commented, and in answer to Hermione's puzzled look, she added, "It's a little after ten o'clock, my dear, I thought you'd be awake before now."

"Oh," Hermione breathed.

"You're looking much better, maybe the change in caregiver agreed with you, ay?" The elderly witch's eyebrow rose suggestively, even as her mouth pinched just noticeably.

Hermione was not quite sure how to respond to this statement. "Err yes, perhaps. I am feeling much better today, thank you," and she decided to leave any further comments well alone.

"Good, I'll organise your breakfast," the matron informed her and she was gone again.

Tentatively swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Hermione found her grip on the floor much stronger today, and quietly padded off to the bathroom. Upon her return she was just climbing into bed when her breakfast arrived, via the matron, who also informed her that she may wish to shower and dress after she had eaten. "There's a change of clothes on the dresser," she pointed to the neat pile folded on top of the little mirrored table, and then left her to eat.

Hermione lay back against her pillows. Suddenly her head was spinning wildly, and not from any weakness. She wanted to hug herself. So it was true, she took a sip of her tea, and almost spat it back out, it tasted bland and didn't elicit the same reaction from her as last night's special blend had, but her soft moan of frustration was lost to the room.

Still, she sat there totally contented. Smiling to herself, she mused on the fact that even if she could bring herself to tell anyone about last night's development, they would have her committed for her trouble. It just didn't seem possible that the most feared man at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was professing his desire to be her friend... but he was, and it was her delicious secret.

Smiling she started on her breakfast, but eating was taking too long, and her gaze kept straying to the new book. Finally, she figured she had eaten enough to placate the matron and curiosity got the better of her. After all, leaving a book lying around and not expecting Hermione Granger to pick it up and voraciously devour it was more than was humanly possible, surely. With her lip firm her hand reached for it as she pushed the almost eaten breakfast away and looked to the book in her hand.

Lifting the little red volume into her line of sight she read the title. "Blood Bonds and Reciprocal Affinities, by Filius F Fickleheart." However, her brow furrowed in puzzlement, why would her professor leave this book for her to read? Hermione's mind raced, she opened the cover of the book and a small piece of parchment landed in her lap. Resting the book there as well, she opened the note.

Instantly recognising the penmanship of his cramped spidery script, she read. The message was written in the same style she had used the previous evening. She saw her message returned to her,

To my Apprentice,
One unto the other... so profound. Read and discover.
All will become clear with time.

S.S.

Hermione gasped. She didn't completely understand yet, but it had to be to her the book was meant for. It was definitely addressed to her, and the initial at the end, coupled with the return of the words she had used to him last night signified it was from him. Hermione closed the book, and fixed her eyes to the title once more. She decided she needed time for this to filter in. The message in itself was plain to her. Be patient, also clear. Perhaps if she read the book, she would understand. The other thing that made her feel secure was the thrum of magic that surrounded the words and books. She was certain he had concealed them from prying eyes, also the message and his name in the front giving away the owner, and Hermione sighed as she felt the same magic stir under her fingers again when she ghosted them across the writing.

She rose from the bed and collected the book and parchment. Quickly placing the message back in the book she looked to the bedside table and thought, yes, they will be safe there while I have a shower, and she pondered as she headed for the bathroom that she actually did feel like doing something today. Her strength did seem to be returning.

Hermione concerned herself this morning on having a quick shower to freshen up, she would have liked to linger and relax herself a little, but decided that apart from the fact her legs might collapse under her if she stayed too long, she didn't like the idea of leaving her note or borrowed books too long unattended. Even if her professor had added security measures as she suspected, most of the other professors would be able to see through them, and when she opened the door on exiting the bathroom she was eternally grateful that he had done so. She was also grateful that she'd had the foresight to take her clothes with her into the bathroom.

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Notes:- (1) L'Alouette, Romance de M. Glinka, is a piano transcription by M. Balakirev, and not that I would influence anyone, but I'd go for the Evgeny Kissin video on you tube. It's a stunningly beautiful piece.

(2) Chopin Nocturne Op 62 No 2, this time I like the 1980 Dang Thai Son video, the music and picture are out of synch but he plays so well. My advice, just close your eyes and listen, it's beautiful.