A/N Another chapter! Again, thanks very much to all of you who've reviewed… I can't stop grinning when I see another one! Here's another chapter… not particularly good, I'm afraid, but… well, here it is. Sorry about the delay, too. I actually had this written ages ago but then I lost my memory stick and I don't have any floppy disks, so I couldn't transfer to a computer with internet to post… and yes, I know the excuse is horrible, but if I was lying I'd come up with a better one, right? Anyway, the next chapter should be better. Hope you enjoy…

"I didn't think it was too bad," Hermione said. "We're going to have to teach you to be more like a muggle, though."

Snape looked unhappy. "And why is that necessary?" he asked.

Courtesy warred with irritation inside Hermione, and irritation won out. "Because of the number of times I had to save you from being discovered by muggles this evening," Hermione snapped at him. "I'm sorry, sir… Alexander, even… but if we're going to see these people again you're going to need to be prepared."

"I fail to see the necessity of seeing them again."

Well, I'll go insane if I see nobody but you for the next few months, Hermione mentally retorted. Aloud, she said, "It's a small town, sir, we can't help but bump into people. Not to mention that it will be commented on if we spend our entire lives secluded here. On top of that, I've made friends with Melissa, and I think I'll be seeing her quite a lot."

Snape looked unhappy, but for once didn't argue. "How do you intend on remedying my ignorance, then?" he asked her pointedly and sarcastically.

"We'll buy a television," Hermione decided. "And maybe we can go into London every few weeks and just… do muggle things. Go to the library, get some muggle books out… I don't know! TV's probably the best bet."

"Doesn't this television need… electricity… to work?" Snape asked, clearly enunciating the foreign syllables.

"We'll bring in an electrician. Oh… dear. That could be a problem; everyone knows we have lights. Okay, how about we go into town and watch a movie once a week? Or," she said, suddenly excited, "We could go into London and see plays. A museum or two wouldn't go amiss, either… the museum of Natural Science! That one'd be excellent for you. And I should probably buy a couple of chemistry textbooks too, since you're supposed to be an expert. Oooh, and…"

"Miss Granger!" Snape snapped. Hermione shut up abruptly, and realised that she'd been rambling. She blushed.

"I'm sorry, sir. But they're good ideas," she said defensively.

"I'm sure they are," he said sourly. "However, it is becoming late, you have homework to complete before tomorrow, and I have a number of things I need to be doing. Perhaps you could save your incessant babbling for tomorrow?"

Hermione flinched. His sudden change of demeanour was surprising, even if it shouldn't have been unexpected. "Of course sir," she said stiffly. "Good night." She turned around and fled up the stairs, fighting back tears once more.

What is wrong with me this week? She thought miserably. I've been mostly happy today, I really enjoyed this evening, and Snape was being civil, and then suddenly he goes back to normal and I start crying? It's pathetic. I want to go home!

The last time she had seen Harry and Ron felt like ages ago, not like five days. Was it really that short a time? Snape was her only connection with her old life, she realised with a sudden clarity. Just as she was his only connection. She had stopped treating him as a professor at some point over the last few days. There was still the respect, of course, and she definitely expected him to continue to teach her… looked forward to it, actually, since he knew so much more than she did, especially in Potions. But there was something different in their relationship now. He was no longer a sarcastic professor or the Order's unpleasant spy, but an actual three-dimensional person. She was more at ease with him, and although she didn't think she could ever enjoy his company, she was beginning to tolerate him. And he was her only link with the magical world.

What would have happened if Dumbledore had told me to go into hiding alone? she wondered as she flopped down onto her bed, tears forgotten. If he told Snape to tell Voldemort that I had just disappeared? I would've gone crazy. Snape's kept me sane, at least, and I guess provided me with company. And, she thought with an unrepentant smile, he's kept me amused with the girls he 'apologised' to. I just hope he never finds out…

The next day passed tolerably well. Snape insisted that she have lessons instead of taking another test, commenting that he had no intention of spending his weekend marking it. The potions lesson was the best of all, Hermione decided, because once in their makeshift lab he had told her that he had no intention of coddling her and would push her now that there were not twenty other students demanding close supervision. Hermione, reading between the lines of his malice, had merely nodded, grinning inside at the very carefully hidden compliment. The work had immediately become much more challenging, but also much more interesting.

Hermione was cleaning up after dinner, an ordeal that took far less time now that she was using the scourgify charm, when Snape entered the kitchen.

"I am leaving now," he said a little stiffly. "I intend to return at some point before eleven. Do I… pass inspection?" he asked rather sarcastically.

"I'm shocked that you care so much about my opinion," Hermione said in a similar tone. "If you want it, ask for it civilly. If not, go out looking like a cross-dressing Goth, see if I care!" She was irritated that he would patronise her when he obviously wasn't sure whether he would pass in public as a muggle. She knew she was being unfair, because he did look perfectly fine, but at the same time he was irritating her no end.

"A cross-dressing Goth?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"That's what I said," she replied crisply. Then, relenting a little, "But you don't look like that now, in the clothes we transfigured for your last date. You'll need to wear different ones tomorrow, but we can deal with that then." Then, feeling a little spiteful, she added, "Enjoy yourself."

Snape, true to form, cut through all of Hermione's little speech to the one part that she hadn't thought through before she had said. "Date?" he asked dangerously.

"Date? Uhh, you see… I meant… um…."

"This woman thinks that I am taking her on a date?"

"No, no, nothing like that," she said hastily. "It was just a slip of the tongue. You're just going to dinner to apologise for bumping into her."

"It had better be so," Snape said, glaring at her for good measure. "Very well. I will see you later on tonight."

As he left, Hermione gave a huge sigh of relief, having the feeling that she had come out of an extremely dangerous situation intact. Which, she reflected, was the truth. Snape wasn't a particularly nice person, and while she knew that deep down he was basically good, there was a lot of unpleasantness between that goodness and the face he presented to the world. She suspected he rather enjoyed the nastiness that he employed frequently. Shaking her head, Hermione finished putting the plates away and went into the living room to finish her book and wait for Snape to return.

When he did return, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at volume at which he slammed the door. "HERMIONE GRANGER!" he roared from the entrance hall. She shrieked, dropped the book, and then tried to control her breathing. He can't kill me, he can't kill me, he can't kill me, she repeated to herself. Jesus bloody Christ what did I do now?

Snape stormed into the room, his coat flying out behind him in the same way that the robes he usually wore billowed.

"Yes, sir?" she asked timidly. Then, suddenly angry with herself, she said in a much stronger voice, "What's wrong?"

"I had to listen to Tanya," and he spat the name out with venom, "prattle all evening long. When I thought she had finally finished she called me caring, understanding, and SWEET! And then she had the nerve to kiss me and then she insisted on another DATE!"

Hermione tried to formulate a response that wasn't 'Please God HELP ME.'

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Snape asked.

Realising that she was playing with fire and then spontaneously decided that she didn't care, Hermione said, "Did you agree to a second date with her?"

"What choice did I have?" he spat. "I can't offend her, can I?"

"Oh… dear," she said, suddenly trying to overcome a fit of the giggles now that his anger had been replaced with what appeared to be fear.

"What do I do?" he asked wildly.

"I suppose you go on the date with her," Hermione replied straight-faced. "When is it?"

"Next Wednesday." He sank tiredly into his seat.

"It can't be that bad. This way, you won't offend her and you'll be getting about a bit, so people won't think you're a hermit."

"I have lived my life perfectly well without caring what other people think," Snape informed her tiredly. "Why is it so necessary that I begin now?"

"Because we're hiding from Voldemort and we can't afford to make ourselves in any was suspicious."

Snape sighed. "Of course. And… I apologise for my earlier outburst." The words came through gritted teeth, but just the fact that he has said them dumbfounded Hermione. "I intend to go to bed now. You would be wise to do the same. Good night." And he stood and swept out of the room, leaving a thoroughly confused Hermione in his wake.

Is he angry with me? Upset? Just tired? Of all the people I could've ended up going into hiding with, it would have to be a spy, better at hiding his true feelings than anyone else. She sighed and put her book away. Maybe she would do as he suggested and go to bed.