AN: Lobs chapter like a grenade and runs

"Smaller, it needs to be cubed into uniform sizes. Here, use this one as a reference."

Hermione walked into the kitchen and followed the voices into the side room. Snape had taken it over as his lab, preferring to have as many stone walls around him as possible, in case of accident. She stood in the doorway and watched as her mother nodded and set about dicing whatever was in front of her.

"Are you helping with the subtle art of potions making, mum?" she asked. Hermione's eyes flicked to Severus, looking for a reaction. She was disappointed.

"Not yet. I'm practicing my knife skills on the carrots and turnips for tonight's stew. Severus is just indulging me. Did you need anything, dear?"

"I had a question for Snape, but I can see it's a bad time."

He finally turned and flicked his eyes at her before quickly darting them away again. He never looked into her eyes anymore. It had been a week since he'd woke up, and in that time they had engaged in a number of conversations, where she spoke to him, and he spoke to the wall over her head.

"I will be at a safe stopping point in a moment," he replied.

"I'll be in the kitchen then," she said.

She turned and walked away.

She placed her book on the table and sat, staring out the window at her father in the yard chopping up a dead rowan tree. There really was no shortage of firewood, but it made him feel busy. Obviously her mother had found herself some busywork as well.

The three older members of the household seemed rather content this last week. Snape seemed pleased with the acceptance of her mother, and he and her father had taken to a nightly game of cards.

John Granger had taken ruthless advantage of Snape's inexperience playing poker right up until the rules had been figured out and the tide had turned with a vengeance.

Hermione had finally clued her father in to the dangers of making eye contact with a man who could read minds and now the games were more or less even.

They made a nice domestic scene.

The only fly in the ointment was Hermione, herself. She was patently sick of being treated like an indulged junior member of the household. Complaining did no good. Her mother was sympathetic, but her father just gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. He was just fine with the idea that the much older Snape did not actually have any designs on his daughter.

What bothered her to no end was that she knew for a fact that this wasn't true. Well, it was true he had no designs on her, but it was more than obvious that he had feelings. Not that her parents knew this secret. There was probably no one else on the planet that knew what he kept hidden, but Hermione had an inside source, his soul.

"You wished to speak with me?"

She turned her head to see him also staring out the window.

She opened the book she had been reading and slid it over to him.

"I know you can feel the echoes of my emotions, just as I can feel yours," she said without preamble. "We still have a link because of the Soul Magic we shared, and the bond appears to be stronger than what I had originally calculated."

He stiffened up and color flooded into his cheeks, as he took a step away.

"Relax, Snape. We beat all that to death last week. I wouldn't bring up anything you find unpleasant or humiliating again, unless there was good reason," she snapped, angered by his reaction.

"I want your opinion on the feasibility of exploring Harry's connection to the Dark Lord. If I can tell when you've come home, perhaps there is a way we can amplify the effect and then teach Harry to exploit his connection to find Tom Riddle and any other Horcruxes that might be out there."

He looked down at the book in front of him and read through the chapter quickly. It was obvious when he got to the part that spoke of how Sex Magic could be used to amplify the connection, because he turned puce.

Hermione ground her teeth together. If she could feel his attraction, why could he not feel hers? She felt another gut churning stab of loss, thinking of how far apart they'd grown so quickly after he'd come to his senses again.

"Harry would hardly have the cooperation of the Dark Lord in figuring out how to strengthen their connection," he sneered, when he'd finished the passage.

"I know. That's why I'm going to ask you if it is alright if I work on ways to strengthen our connection without your active cooperation. I want your feedback on what you detect, but I am going to try to work without your actual help."

He looked uncomfortable and then dropped the book back on the table.

"Perhaps it would have been better for you to have simply attempted to do so. By telling me of your plan, you might have just skewed the results of your experimentation. My knowledge might be a factor in a success Potter will not be able to duplicate. Sloppy work, Granger." He darted a scathing look at her and she felt his scorn.

Her growing anger turned incandescent.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was actually concerned that if I started to toy with the soul bond, you might have felt violated. Or perhaps you might have even resented not being given a choice. Perhaps you might have even felt a bit degraded if you were subjected to a deeper knowledge of just how much I like chocolate!" Hermione's voice had dropped into a low threat as she verbally slapped him with the words he had thrown at her last week when they had tried to sort through the mess the first time. There hadn't been a second time. Since they were both sure they now knew the facts as they actually were, there had been no call for a repeat of the devastatingly painful conversation they'd already shared.

She felt Snape's anger turn to regret and then quickly into resentment. His head turned and he stared into her eyes for the first time since he'd woke up.

"You don't get it, do you, little girl? I don't want to feel your feelings! I don't want you to feel mine!"

"Well, that's just too damned bad, Snape, because we are stuck this way for life! Is it really so horrifying to be attracted to me? Especially when you know it is reciprocated?"

His face paled and his mouth opened and closed before his eyes filled with a rage that made Hermione wince. He leaned in close and hissed, "Yes. Being forced to be attracted to you is degrading, and it cheapens the actual love I feel for a woman that was infinitely more worthy!"

Hermione reeled as if she'd been slapped.

"Forced?" she gasped out weakly.

His face went still and his eyebrows knit together.

"You didn't realize it was compelled?" he asked. She just stared at him. "Granger, did you honestly think you were actually attracted to me?"

Her eyes filled with tears and she sat back down, hard. He closed his eyes and rubbed them before sitting in the chair next to her and grabbing up the Sprague book. He flipped through it and pushed it back to her.

"You told me you read everything," he said quietly. "I thought you understood what we were suffering from."

"It feels so real," she whispered. "How do we know it's not?"

He sighed and bowed his head. "Granger, be reasonable. On what world would someone like you fall in love with someone like me?"

"This one. This world, right here." She scrubbed at her eyes. "So there's no chance that you would ever love someone like me?" she asked.

"I already love the only woman I ever will, Granger. Now you understand what I meant last week when I said I had violated you. I appreciate that you wanted to absolve me of my guilt, but I assure you, it's not possible. As long as we stay strong, mentally, we can beat this. You can be free. You can love again, freely. You must shut your mind to the idea that you care for me, it is not your thought, it is the bond left behind by what I did to you."

Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve before looking up into his sad, dark eyes. It felt so much like love. It felt exactly like what she thought love should feel like. How could it not be the real thing? What about the words he'd spoken in her dreams? Could it all have been a lie? Was there truly no part deep inside him that loved her after all? She felt her heart break and saw him flinch as she pushed herself back from the table and ran out of the room.

Weeks went by and the atmosphere in the house had grown heavy. Hermione kept to her rooms, venturing out only for meals and to soak in the tub when she needed to clear her thoughts of her research, or her sadness if her research no longer masked it.

She would come out to speak to Harry or Ron or any number of other Order members, as long as it pertained to her research. As soon as the conversation shifted away to mundane topics, she would make her excuses.

Her mother was at her wit's end with her, she knew, and her father had grown concerned enough to try and start several awkward and easily derailed heart-to-heart chats. She could feel Severus's turmoil as a constant counterpoint to her own and occasionally felt his worried gaze during meals, but she ignored it. She ignored them all. She couldn't figure out how to shut her mind to the idea of caring for just Severus, so she closed it on them all. She only hoped when she stopped feeling his gnawing despair and guilt, she would be able to open herself back up to those who wanted her to care.

She was coming out of the bathroom one evening, wrapped in her dressing gown with a towel on her head and a book clutched under her arm, when she found herself face-to-face with Snape. Her heart started to pound in her chest but she quickly looked at the floor and ordered her mind to become still. She had been working hard on her Occlumency skills.

"Yes? Did you want something?" she asked with forced casualness.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've detected nothing of your attempts to strengthen the bond. I didn't know if you needed to know that for your research."

She sighed. "Oh. Is that all?"

He shifted and she felt a wave of despair wash over her. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Need to know that for your research?"

"No. I'm not pursuing that avenue. After our talk, it seemed too disruptive. I'm looking for alternative ways for Harry to exploit the link, as well as ways we might be able to sever ours. If I can end our link, we could use that research towards cutting off Harry's connection to the Horcrux in his scar. That way, he might actually survive when that Horcrux is removed."

"But what about locating other Horcruxes? Your idea had merit."

She lifted her head and looked into his worried and agitated eyes as she shoved her book at him.

"You research it if you want. I won't be held responsible when you figure out the woman you love died twenty years ago, and now you're just alone."

She felt the shock and subsequent spiraling anger, but pushed the feelings away and headed to her room. She barely reacted when his bedroom door slammed hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling down onto her bed.

Hermione held onto Daisy while Lavender made lunch. Lily and James were making a mess of their own meals, keeping Ginny busy with the Tergeos.

"I can't believe how big Daisy is already. I really have been spending too much time on my research," Hermione said, looking around the warm kitchen of the Burrow. "This was a splendid idea." She turned to Ginny. "I'm so glad you and Harry dragged me out of that house."

"It was past time," Ginny said. "Everyone's been worried about you, the last few weeks, but I think you're coming out on the other side of it. Snape had said something to Harry about your being damaged by what happened, but I think it could have just been stress. I think you were just depressed. That's not exactly unusual in my book, given what we've all gone through."

"You have a point. I think you're probably right."

"So how are things now? Snape will only really talk to Harry or Remus. He's very polite to my parents, but the rest of us get the cold shoulder."

Hermione looked out into the sitting room and saw her parents chatting away with Molly and Arthur. Beyond them on the couch sat Snape, looking stiff and uncomfortable.

As she stared, his head turned towards her and she quickly looked down at the baby. This had become a regular occurrence. One of them would feel the attention of the other and look, only to see eyes slide away.

Snape had redoubled his Occlumency shields, keeping them in place at all times now, and Hermione had learned to work her own rudimentary protection. They were no longer buffeted by each other's emotions all the time, which was an immense relief. However, it never held up when their attention was actively focused on each other. She could still feel his collection of guilt, remorse and the self-loathing that barely cloaked his sexual awareness of her. She cringed when she thought about what he must be picking up from her.

"Things just are. He's been busy with the Wolfsbane, when he's not closeted with Harry, Kingsley and Remus plotting. It's been rather quiet around the house, my parents have been working in the yard, trying to structure the chaos in the garden. I think it keeps them from going stir crazy. Mom's still trying to learn Potions, she's actually helping chop ingredients now. I have no idea if Snape Vanishes them when she's not looking, or if she's good enough to really help. They've sold their practice. They finally realized that this is going to be a long-term situation. I've tried to get them to think about moving out of the country, but they won't hear of it."

"But how are you," asked Lavender.

"I just keep to myself, mostly. The research keeps me too busy to think."

"Well, your research is our best hope at the moment," said Ginny. "Harry is very excited about the direction you're moving in, so I wouldn't feel too badly about being a bit of a hermit. You just need to get away once in a while. Trust us, we know about carrying such a responsibility every day can do to you," Ginny said, nodding at the baby in her arms. "Sure, it's rewarding, but the mental fatigue can be overwhelming."

"Agreed," added Lavender, setting plates before them on the table.

"Perhaps you could take some time to show us what you're working on," said Ginny. "I would really like to know more about this Horcrux in my husband's head. You could teach me about Soul Magic over tea."

Hermione nodded. "I could! I think that would be a great idea! That way the knowledge won't be limited to just me and Snape, in case something happens."

"Then it's a plan," smirked Lavender. "We'll be ladies who lunch, and figure out how to destroy souls…"

The three of them burst into laughter.

Hermione closed her book and sat back at her desk. She'd spent days researching this last point and doing countless mental exercises to try and train her mind for this one moment. As always, it came down to willingness.

She lifted up her research notes and scanned the page one more time. Ever since her conversation with Snape in the kitchen, she'd been avoiding the subject of coercion in Soul Magic, but as the time drew near to put her new theories into practice, it became imperative that she understand the dynamic between Snape and herself completely first.

Two days of studying had shown her that he was wrong. They weren't compelled to care for each other by what they had experienced. During the time she carried his soul, there had been an affinity that commonly turned into sexual awareness. Her willingness and his need made a bond between them inescapable. But the sexual compulsion ended when she'd returned his soul. Caring for each other afterwards was a natural result of the sharing. Their bond created an ongoing harmonic vibration that they both naturally responded to, which explained their awareness of each other's moods. But that was all. This feeling she carried inside for the moody man was her own honest emotions.

The upshot was, she loved him because she wanted to, and he didn't love her because he didn't want to. He actively fought against whatever tender feelings he held for her.

She sighed and scrubbed at her face, pushing her own feelings to the side. She didn't really have time or energy to spend dwelling on this. There was a war going on, and Harry needed her knowledge. Since she was the only person interested in a relationship, it seemed a bit foolish to balk at sacrificing its withered remnants when so much was on the line.

She tossed her parchment onto the desk and got up and walked to her bed. Kicking her shoes off, she laid down and settled herself. She ran through her mental exercises, cleared her mind, and then slowly brought her focus to the connection she shared with Severus. She slid her mind along it, felt the length and breadth of its anchor into her own psyche. With her shields removed, she could feel the echoes of his contentment with whatever he was working on over at Grimmald place, his frustration over something minor that she couldn't identify, and the echoes of anger and shame that she'd come to associate with his infrequent conversations with Dumbledore's portrait.

She focused harder.

Reaching deeper into their connection, she could feel an echo of the warm treacle that she'd felt filling her when she'd held his soul in her heart. Building up her own construct in her mind, she pictured their connection as a warm skein of honey-colored silk. She mentally gathered the strands together and laid them out on a board, arranging the threads neatly. She stroked them, surprised at the pleasure that rebounded to her own senses, and then with a swift chop, she brought her mentally constructed cleaver down on them and severed the connection.

Her concentration was shattered as if she was thrown out of her own mind. She bolted upright on the bed and found herself reaching out, grabbing for something unseen. She shook her head several times and the disorientation slowly passed. She let her thoughts creep slowly towards the connection she'd shared and found nothing. She threw her mind towards that place where Snape's thoughts had always seemed to dwell and found only a few ragged edges that left her feeling uncomfortable when she prodded them. She worried at them like the flap of skin on the roof of her mouth after being scalded.

She finally took a deep breath and blew it out, orienting herself before she scrambled off the bed to jot down notes. Her emotions tried to slip out from under her control but she pushed them into a corner ruthlessly. It would do no good to dwell on the fact that she had just ripped her own heart to shreds. She'd get over it. If there was one thing Oliver had taught her, it was that a broken heart was survivable.

She'd just sat down and picked up her quill when she heard a loud crash downstairs. She jumped up and ran towards the door but stopped when she heard the sound of boots pounding up the stairs. She stepped back into the shadows against the wall and pulled out her wand just as her bedroom door was flung open and Snape exploded into the room. She reflexively threw up her Occlumency shields, but they were no longer needed.

She lowered her wand and stared at him bemused. After months of feeling him always under the surface of her own thoughts, it was odd to have him simply be another body in the room. She had no idea what was going through his mind accept for the obvious panic that was on his face. The panic finally registered in the front of her brain and she stepped forward out of the shadows.

"What's happened? What's wrong?" she cried.

He spun around and saw her, his face reflecting several things at once. Relief, anxiety and fear quickly morphed into fury.

"What the hell did you do?" he shouted. "I thought you were dead! You just suddenly disappeared!"

"I severed our connection. I—"

"Put it back! Fix it now!"

He seemed to flow across the room until he was in her face, and seized her by the arms. Her vision seemed to fill with his dark, frightening eyes and she found herself trying to push him away. He scared her.

"You knew what I was researching! You were the one that said I might skew the results if I informed you!" She turned her face away from the intensity of his anxious expression. "Isn't this what you wanted? We're free." His arms went slack and she stepped out of his hold. "You're free," she said quietly. The emotions she'd held in check throughout the exercise, slipped out of her control and she started to cry. She closed her eyes and turned her back on him, resentful at being forced to show him her weakness.

She felt his hand rest gently on her shoulder, and then he was pulling her slowly into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a rough voice. She allowed him to turn her until she leaned forward and pressed her face against his chest. "I was… surprised. I've—You've been with me for years, Hermione. Longer than you knew. I wasn't prepared to lose you like that. I'm afraid I didn't think rationally. Of course you did the right thing. I shouldn't have frightened you."

She didn't answer, she just gathered up a fold of his robe in each fist and wept, keeping her jaw clenched against the sobs that tried to escape. She felt foolish and embarrassed and humiliated. She also felt whole, and protected and warm. Cutting their connection hadn't muted her feelings for him at all. That knowledge made her feel even more desolate. Having his arms around her was the most perfect thing in her world. The sound of his still racing heart was soothing and she found herself calmed by his embrace, as if she was surrounded by a soft, warm glow. She felt him settle down as well, listened to his heartbeats slow, his breathing even out. She felt his panic fade as he enjoyed the feeling of holding her in his arms. She knew he liked the way she turned to him for strength and comfort.

Her eyes popped open and she frowned. She mentally reached for their connection and rather than finding a psychic wound, she found a warm golden skein of silken threads almost done knitting themselves back together. She pushed herself out of his arms and dropped her Occlumency shields and watched as he reacted to her exposed emotions.

"What have you done?" she asked in a whisper.

He stared at her, wide-eyed, the panic creeping back, along with mortified confusion. "I didn't… I wasn't…" He backed away. "You must have done something wrong," he said, pulling himself together.

"It was simple enough, once I'd mastered the mental exercises needed. I didn't do it wrong. I severed our connection and it's somehow knit back together after only a few minutes."

He frowned at her and drew himself up to his full height. She could feel his thoughts cut off, sealed up tight behind his shields again, only the echoes leaked out, telling her he was embarrassed and confused. "You obviously had a failure of intent," he said with a sneer.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Just because I have feelings for you, doesn't mean I don't want to end this self-torture I've put myself through. I don't enjoy being humiliated, Severus. There was no failure of intent on my part. I wasn't the one unwilling to let go." His eyes lit up with rage, but he held back whatever retort he was going to make. She brushed her hair back off her shoulder and lifted her chin. "If you will excuse me, I have notes to write."

She threw up her own shield, hoping to block as much as she could and went through the motions of ignoring him as she turned away and sat back down at her desk. She felt his eyes on her for a long moment before the creak of the floor said he'd turned and left her room. The door closed with a soft thud.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione stopped short and looked behind her to see Snape billowing out of the house after her. She could feel his anger.

"I'm headed to Flourish and Blotts," she said. "I lent Harry the Hogwarts copy of the Oxmix book, but I need it as well now. I thought it would be easier if I simply had two copies. Why?"

"You can't just pop off, Granger. I need to be advised of these things. I was asked to protect you. How can I do that if you don't even bother to let me know you have plans." He looked highly agitated and Hermione picked up the waves of trepidation and annoyance that radiated off of him.

"I'm sorry I didn't advise you of my plans, it hadn't occurred to me you would care. No!" She held a hand up to stop his immediate response. "I didn't mean that to be snide; I simply meant I wasn't aware you were under orders to protect me. I'm sorry."

He seemed mollified, but she could tell there was still a churning anxiety in him at the idea of her leaving.

"Is there something I should know? Is there a reason you don't want me to go?"

"Yes," he said in a nasty voice. "There's a war on and you're a target. Can't you get one of the Weasleys to get it for you?"

She planted her fists on her hips and scowled at him.

"Every single Weasley is as much a target as I am, as is Remus, Tonks, and just about anyone else in the Order. Only you and Harry are bigger targets than us. There is no one left who's not a target, Snape. Only your actions before you woke up have been keeping them quiet. They don't know you're sane again, and they're terrified of you for the moment." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the new spring shoots working their way up through the broken pavers of the carriage yard. "I need that book, Severus. My attempt to sever our connection the other day has shown that there is no way Harry can reproduce my attempt without broadcasting his intentions to Voldemort. I need to find a way around that, and Harry needs to continue to read up on the mental exercises. Therefore, we need two copies."

Snape stood and stared at her, his now constant disapproval of her evident in his demeanor.

"When can I expect you back?" he said.

"I shouldn't be longer than an hour."

He stepped back away from her and waved his hand, as if granting permission. "If you are going to be delayed longer than that for any reason, use your medallion. If I don't hear from you, I will alert the entire Order, do you understand?

"Yes, Severus. I understand perfectly. I'm not a child, no matter how much you wish I was."

He pressed his lips together so hard they went bloodless, as his eyes filled with fury. She just closed her eyes and spun away.

Editing on the fly is soooo much more fun when I can read reviews while I do it!