A/N I'm taking time out of packing to upload this. Aren't I nice? : ) Please check and make sure you didn't miss the little bonus chapter or chapter 23.

Oh, and I strongly encourage you to at least listen to songs three and four in this play list when they come up.

Playlist: http:/ /www .you tube .com/watch?v=XVjEZcnIums&feature=PlayList&p=C1BCA8E5ACF4695E&index=0&playnext=1

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hermione sat in the stuffy, incense-scented room and counted backward from one thousand. She could think of so many places she would rather be than here. Her chambers, his chambers, St. Mungo's…

However, she had told Minerva she would shadow each staff member of Hogwarts, and thus, she found herself in her most hated of classrooms.

"Look closely into the ball, dears. Close, yes, even closer. Inside you shall find the answer to life's mysteries!" Sybil Trelawney told her class.

Hermione did her best not to scoff at her future colleague. It was bad enough that Trelawney remembered exactly why Hermione was no longer in her class.

"Ah, yes, come to attempt to develop your inner eye?" she had asked Hermione when she had first entered the classroom.

"I am here to watch you attempt to teach others to open theirs. My eyes are just fine, thank you," Hermione had answered and found a quiet and secluded puff to sit on while she watched the classes.

She had vowed to herself that she would make the best of each opportunity offered to her, and she did want to learn from the Divination instructor if there was something for her to glean. Since she had missed much of this class, she went through each class as a student would and performed each of the assignments as they did.

"Deep, deep into the crystal ball. Let it speak to your mind! Dark things lay ahead, dark indeed. What will it tell each of you? Come now, don't be shy. You, Sterling, what do you see?"

The sixth year Hufflepuff who looked like he could be Crabbe's younger brother squinted into the orb in front of him. "Uh, well," he started slowly. "I see myself, and, um, I'm throwing something. They look like dice. Twenty-sided ones maybe. They keep coming up as ones, over and over again."

"Oh, dear," said Trelawney, clucking her tongue. "Soon you shall see how unfortunate it can be to roll snake eyes. And you, Mr. Zahrt, I see you seem to be pondering the wonders of the crystal ball. What has it deigned to tell you of your future?"

The burly student looked confused. "I think…I think it's telling me I'm going to have a blue ball. Oh, wait." He reached behind his orb and removed the blue-colored Divination book from behind it. "Okay, close call there. I see myself. And that American, Lorrell. And, I think that's a house-elf. We're…singing. And dancing." The gregarious student took off his glasses, wiped his eyes, and put them back on. "Yup, definitely dancing. Maybe it's broken." He looked at his table partner. "Nate, did you touch my ball?"

"No way, man. I don't touch other people's balls," said the student addressed previously as Sterling.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair while Trelawney gave her interpretation. It was like watching Ron and Harry. She was so pleased she had dropped this course.

"And you, Miss Granger, care to tell the class what it is you see in your ball if you have not practiced the noble art of Seeing?"

With a groan, Hermione peered into the slightly dusty glass ball. "You see a table cloth," she told the other woman. "An ugly table cloth."

She looked into the ball closer, attempting to see if the pattern on the table really was cats made of paisley when, suddenly, a vision slowly appeared as though coming through the fog. She squinted and looked harder, until all she could focus on was the hazy picture.

She could see legs and arms, apparently of two people. They were…naked…and doing what it was a naked man and woman do best. Cheeks reddening at the invasion of privacy for the poor couple, Hermione nonetheless looked closer to see if she could spot an identity. It was difficult with the way the woman was tossing back her head and the man was thrusting into her. After a moment, she caught a glimpse of curled brown hair. This woman must be herself!

If the man had red hair or glasses, she was going to be sick.

Morbid curiosity driving her, she looked back again.

The naked man had shoulder-length black hair.

Gasping, her crazed mind wondered if it was possible to keep the ball for further perusal. But no, it must have just been her own fantasy and the richly perfumed haze of the room that had finally gotten to her and conjured that hallucination. It couldn't really be the future.

Could it?

Suddenly, the room was too warm. "I'm sorry," she said hastily. "I need to go." Hermione stood up quickly, knocking the ball to the floor. It rolled under Sterling's table as she made her exit. "I'm sorry, Sybil. I'll come back if I need anything." Hermione half ran down the spiraling staircase, once again running from the classroom with a crystal ball on the floor behind her.

Sequestering herself in her corner of the library, she brought out her Charms notes for the previous years. She was fairly certain she would be able to pass her N.E.W.T.s just fine, but that didn't stop her from worrying, and, in a time like this, she needed something banal to keep her mind off the image she had seen in the orb.

She took out her planner as well and ran a highlighter over "Charms – 1st year." She had a box for each subject she was taking in her tests and all the years for them. She would check them off one by one as she studied them, and she knew how many she had to accomplish each week to keep on track.

Knowing it wouldn't be long – or perhaps it would, but it would happen eventually either way – before the boys came to ask her to assist in their studies as well, she took the available time to reread as much as she could on her own without any distractions.

And besides, some of that time would be unavailable anyway, since she would be researching with Severus.

He was such a different man now in her mind. So much more human, in body and in personality. Hermione bit her bottom lip as she remembered their kisses in his chambers. She closed her eyes, remembering his smell and the texture of his robes and the feel of his hand against her back, pulling her closer, and...

Whoa, girl. You're in a library. In public. Charms. Yes. Focus on Charms.

She lowered her head back to her book, vowing to store that image for later use, as well as the one from Divination.

Hermione poured over each page of painstakingly-taken notes in her tiny, first year student scrawl. Everything was as she remembered it, though she made a few notes in a separate book on a few obscure Charms to look into later.

Sometimes, it felt like this was all just such a waste. She knew that she knew more than any one person in her grade, and if others could pass, she could too. Studying occupied such a huge portion of her time. What would she have done if she had invested that time elsewhere?

This day was just so frustrating. She shut the book, finished with that year, and went to leave the library in search of her friends. Maybe they'd want to play Gobstones or trade Chocolate Frog cards or something.

She was walking through the tall double doors when she felt the warmth in her pocket. Switching her bag from one shoulder to the other, she reached in to read the message.

Research tonight?

Oh, thank the gods. It had been ten days since their date-like-thing, not that she was counting, of course, and she had played for him once in that time, and that was all.

The last time she had seen him privately, when she had played for him, still left her a little disconcerted. She had greeted him with a kiss, and he had told her goodbye with one. Both of them had curled her toes and left her wanting more. Each singular kiss felt like another confirmation that they both wanted more, even though nothing had been discussed between them. Each one was a token to be taken and saved.

And still, even after feeling his lips against hers and seeing the want reflected in his eyes, she couldn't imagine this was real. All too soon, she was going to wake up from this lovely dream. Severus Snape did not kiss students. Or anyone, for that matter. And Hermione Granger did not kiss professors!

Yet here they were. Somewhere, the ground in Hell was freezing below the hooves of the airborne swine.

Was this such a good idea? Dating Severus? Is that what she was about to do? Date him?

But she had Minerva's consent, who was about as close as she could get to a mum. The boys were quiet, if not exactly accepting and the girls were thrilled for her. It was true they may hear some backlash from parents but they were both very discreet and, well. She didn't want to let him go.

Which was really all it came down to. She didn't want to let him go. She was happy when she was with him, and she if could be an instrument to his happiness then what else was there?

Where & when?

After a moment, she received a response.

After dinner, my lab.

The day was suddenly brighter. Did he know how much he made her happy? She hoped so.

With a little more spring in her step, she went in search of a way to pass the time for a few hours.

~~HGSS~~

"Fiddlesticks!"

Snape snorted. "Fiddlesticks?"

"Shut up. It's a Muggle expression. I'm just so frustrated!" said Hermione as her fourth cauldron of the night began to smoke and gurgle.

Having previously worked alone, Snape found he rather liked working with Hermione. She was knowledgeable, capable, and he could still learn interesting new phrases that he no longer gleaned from Voldemort.

"I've added the monkshood, the belladonna, and the wartcap. I stirred three times, and this. What does it want from me? What do you want, Cauldron?" Hermione said shrilly at the ruined potion in front of her.

"Perhaps," he said, concerned, "if you cannot handle this, we can find something else for you to –"

"No," she interrupted. "I can do this just fine. It's just…" She sighed. "It's been a long day. I'm already feeling like I'm spinning my wheels in so many places. With studying, with the boys, and now with the research, I'm just not in the right frame of mind. Do you mind if I go and play for a half hour and then return to continue?"

"By all means. Use my study if you wish," he told her, gesturing towards the door to his rooms from the other side of the table.

"Thanks," she said with a meek smile and headed towards the door.

She really felt like she was overreacting, but having four cauldrons end up in the same mess was just exasperating. She was able to stave off the reaction a little more each time, with the exception of cauldron three, which had gone drastically, horribly wrong. Hermione hoped the smell would come out of Snape's cloak, which he had hung on a hook a little too close to her workstation.

She had so many ideas, and Hermione was pleased that he listened to all of them. Some he pushed aside with explanations for their implausibility, but others he agreed were worth a try, and those she marked in her notebook for further study.

He had a few ideas of his own that he had yet to try, and hearing her thoughts helped him bring his own into focus. He was also able to add a few refinements to some of the experiments they wanted to try in the future.

Currently, they were focusing on limiting Voldemort's power or increasing Harry's. Somehow, they needed to be on more equal footing, whether that meant Voldemort was inhibited or Harry became more like the nemesis he feared.

Hermione walked through the door that led to Severus' rooms. Pausing in the middle of the room, she looked around and smiled at the things in the room that were so obviously him. All the books. Sparse, comfortable furniture. A soft, dark rug beneath the sofa, a small table for a decanter and a few glasses in one corner, and a chess set with a game in progress.

Speaking of chess sets, she made a mental note to ask him if she had left hers here or if the entire thing had decided that they didn't want to be with her anymore.

With a small grunt, she pushed one heavy chair out of the way so that her piano would have the space it needed. Once enlarged, it took up a good portion of the free area in the room.

Not in the mood to sing, she took out a few piano favorites that never failed to calm her. (1) Soon, the simple, sweet melodies poured from the piano, and even the Count sat on the inside of the room and listened to her play with his head resting on one pale hand.

Alone she played, rolling her head to ease the tension in her neck and shoulders and letting her mind wander to what she needed to accomplish in the coming weeks. Graduation was looming, and soon, she would be the newest professor there.

And what of Voldemort? Not a year had passed without a conflict at the conclusion of the school year. Perhaps this would be the last. Hermione was unsure whether she was pleased or terrified. She opted for a little of each.

She was finishing a song when she heard the door behind her open and close and someone come in, taking a seat.

"I've heard this?" he asked her.

"You have. 'Her Most Beautiful Smile,'" she said. "You know this one too." (2)

She began to play what could possibly be called his favorite song. "Sound of Your Voice" was not only about himself, but it reminded him of the first time he had felt accepted by her.

"Why do you play these over again?" he questioned.

"Well, multiple reasons, I suppose. One, I'm not an endless fount of music, regardless of what I may have led you to believe," she told him, smiling. "So sometimes, things need to be revisited. Two, I like them. Why do you eat the same foods over again or wear the same woolen socks? Some things are worth doing or having again, and some get better the more you have them. Like fine wine or good friends. Age and repetition are only improvements. And third, songs like these specifically are my musical comfort food."

"Comfort food?" he asked, intrigued.

She nodded. "Sometimes it's the simple, nothing fancy things that make you the happiest. And with these pieces, they are easy enough for me to memorize, and I can then keep my hands busy and allow my mind to focus on something else. Sometimes I find it hard to concentrate my mind when my body is doing nothing. I get restless. So these are the familiar, comforting songs that, in a way, remind me of my mum's macaroni and cheese or mince pies, you know?"

"In theory. My mother didn't cook much."

"Oh, I see. Well, the tea sandwiches you are so fond of then."

"I see your point," he said.

She finished the song as she watched him. He grew a little tense, almost nervous, glancing around the room, before quickly standing and striding over to his desk. She turned to watch him inquiringly as he unlocked a small drawer and removed something.

As he walked back over to her, she saw what he had in his hands.

"I believe you forgot something," Snape told her.

"My chess set! Did I leave it here then?"

"You did," he told her, fidgeting with the box. "Hermione, I have something I wish to discuss with you. But first, I have something I wish for you to see, and your reaction determines a great deal of the conversation."

Her curiosity was thoroughly enraptured. If you ever wanted to snare a Kia, a lead-in like that one was the way to do it.

"Alright then, what is it?"

He set the chess set on the piano and opened it. Laying the board flat, the pieces took up their regulation spots. With a little prodding from Snape, five pieces moved forward: a white rook, a white pawn, a black pawn, a black bishop, and the infamous black knight.

Reaching into his pocket, Snape set one more thing on the board.

"My king!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Patience," Professor Snape told her. "All will be explained." He gave the white king a little nudge with his finger. The white king cleared his throat, snapped his little stone fingers four times, and the group began to sing. (3)

"'In every heart there is a room, a sanctuary, safe and strong, to heal the wounds from lovers past until a new one comes along.'"

Hermione bit her lower lip in an attempt to keep from asking whether this song was for her. "'I spoke to you in cautious tones. You answered me with no pretense, and still I feel I said too much. My silence is my self defense. And every time I've held a rose, it seems I only felt the thorns. And so it goes, and so it goes, and so will you soon I suppose.'"

Hermione just shook her head, looking up at her Severus, who had his head tilted away from her, his eyes tightly closed. This time, she thought, when he held his Gentle Hermione, there would be no thorns. "'But if my silence made you leave, then that would be my worst mistake. So I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break.'"

Silly, stupid Slytherin. If she had anything to say about it, she wasn't going anywhere."'And this is why my eyes are closed, it's just as well for all I've seen,'" sang the little pieces as Hermione felt the first tear roll down her smooth cheek. "'And so it goes, and so it goes, and you're the only one who knows. So I would choose to be with you, that's if the choice were mine to make. But you can make decisions too, and you can have this heart to break. And so it goes, and so it goes, and you're the only one who knows.'"

Hermione felt her wet eyelashes on her cheek, completely overcome by the display of his heart. She was quietly gasping, trying not to cry fully, as she asked him, "Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

He simply nodded at her without turning his head. Severus Snape was no Gryffindor. He hated the word with a vengeance, but at times, he was a coward.

"Oh, Severus…" she whispered.

He closed his eyes tighter, wishing he could close his ears as well, not wanting to hear her rejection, as nicely worded as it would be, with phrases like 'just friends' and 'it's not you.'

He felt something warm in his hand and looked down.

Her hand was in his.

"I thought you'd never ask," she told him, cheeks still glistening.

The chess set was watching everything unfold with apprehension, black and white queens holding each other with trepidation, and the king didn't know what to do with him self so he just wrung his hands.

Snape looked down to her, this petite, seventeen-year-old student, and for once, let his body rule over his brain. (4)

The chess set, taking his physical cue, struck up a new song, and the swelling strains of Tchaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet" filled the air.

With the trumpet countermelody and the crescendo of the violins, this kiss, exactly two months after the original, felt like the first time. They both felt free to put their emotions behind it, letting themselves go, knowing they would be accepted and their affection returned. Gone was the timid nature and hesitation that had marked their first few attempts at gentle intimacy.

He was unprepared when she opened her mouth to him. Feeling his insecurity, she pulled back and rubbed her nose to his with a grin, effectively easing the tension a bit. Hermione then led him with gentle, open-mouthed kisses, touching her tongue to his, feeling and tasting him simultaneously.

She was suddenly glad she had brushed her teeth that morning.

Snape was at a loss as to what to do with himself. Feeling the need to do something, his ran his hands up and down her back, bending down to reach her.

Noticing his plight, she led him to the sofa as he scolded the playing chess set with, "Oh, do shut up." She sat on her knees next to him and leaned over to kiss him thoroughly.

He didn't know what reaction he had been hoping for, but this was infinitely better than anything he had anticipated.

And she tasted divine.

Was this what the little prats were fumbling for in the hallways? These few moments of physical bliss?

He was still going to punish their lack of decorum ruthlessly, but he understood where they were coming from now.

Hermione was oblivious to his thoughts as she ran her hands up his chest. Finding the cravat tied there, she nimbly unfastened it and began to work on a few of his upper jacket buttons.

He pulled back away from her, panting slightly. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she answered, completely engrossed in ridding him of the overbearing jacket which prevented her from seeing the delicious white shirt underneath.

"We can't do this. I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. You'll learn. I know you are attracted to me, and I'm attracted to you. We care about each other. It's okay. Just relax."

Her words eased him somewhat, but he became concerned about one fact. "How do you know I'm attracted to you?"

She rubbed the white shirt that was freed from the top few buttons and told him, "You have a big nose."

"So I am like Pinocchio?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

"No. Your nostrils swell and flare when you are aroused."

He released a breath. "I just want you to know that I don't think I'd be comfortable…consummating this relationship for some time. At least until you are no longer under my authority. This is not an arena in which I'm very…knowledgeable."

She barely managed to not chuckle or snort. Barely. Merlin, he was being so sincere. "That's not a problem. I dated Ron for six months, and never 'consummated' anything. I don't mind taking things slow, and we'll just see what happens. Is kissing off the menu too?"

"Definitely not."

"Then hush, and take off this ridiculous jacket."

He complied and kissed her soundly again before telling her, "There are a few things we should probably consider before we get too carried away."

"Probably," Hermione said, annoyed, as she sat back on her feet.

"Do you want to talk to Minerva, or shall I?"

"Oh, she doesn't care," said Hermione.

"She doesn't? How would you know this?" he asked, surprised.

"She told me," Hermione said. "Right after New Year's. She said she didn't care, and she'd tell you that, but you'd just do what you wanted to anyway. She just said to keep it discreet, of course, and that she trusts us both."

"Hmpf. She's as bad as Dumbledore. She must have gotten impatient then. She spoke to me as well a few weeks ago. Well, that's a major problem cleared then. Are you planning on telling your friends?" he asked with a bit of a sneer.

"Only those I can trust. I'll extract a wand oath if necessary. I don't want to create unneeded problems for either of us. I won't force you two together, but can you be nice to Harry if needed?"

"We'll see," he said, without as much malice as she had expected. "I'm sure you know I don't take something like this lightly. I haven't…dated…in the past. There hasn't been anyone who has been willing to accept the reality of me, and I've been too occupied to be concerned with it. I don't know what will happen now, but I hope you know I won't let go lightly."

"Good. I don't plan on making you try. And now, the important question."

"Which is?" he asked.

"Why do you have my king?"

He sat up straight now, pulling one leg onto the cushion in front of him. "Well, you see, about three-and-a-half months ago…"

He told her the story about how the king had become attached to him as she listened intently.

"And why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I didn't think he'd be so persistent," he said as the king preened on the chess board behind him. "And after a while, he became not such a nuisance. You weren't concerned, so I left him to figure out what it was he wanted."

"And what did he want?"

"You, at first," he said, making Hermione laugh. After she apologized to the affronted king, he continued. "And then us. He was quite insistent."

"Well, thank you, King. I appreciate your efforts," Hermione told the piece and gave it a little pat. Leaning down, she whispered to him, "You know, the black queen has been watching you."

The little king pointed to himself with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes, you. Maybe you should go say hi."

Puffing up his chest, the king turned around and strode over to the black queen, who waved shyly as he came over.

With an impish smile, she turned back towards Snape. "Thank you too. For all of this. For the song, for taking a chance by talking to me. See? Good things can happen if you're a little bit Gryffindor."

"Hmm, yes, well, I think I've seen too little of these 'good things.'"

So she kissed him again.

~~HGSS~~

Hermione went back to the tower as if in a dream. She was thankful the other girls were asleep and she wouldn't be teased and questioned about the late hour and her kiss-swollen lips.

She was in a relationship with her professor. What would her mother say?

There was time for that thought later. Now it was time for sleep.

~~HGSS~~

In the morning, Hermione found quite a scene in the common room. Lorrell was crying with Ron's arms around her, and Harry and Ginny were nearby, trying to console the girl.

"Good morning," said Hermione slowly. "How is everyone?"

Ginny rapidly shook her head and gestured surreptitiously to Lorrell.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be out here with this. I'll just go back to my room and freshen up, and then we can head to class," Lorrell said in between sniffles.

"No, it's all right," said Harry. "We've been through lots of things together. What's the problem?"

"It's my mom," said Lorrell. "She wants me home."

"At the end of the year?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, she said she'll wait until then, but she really wants me home now. I guess my sister has been bugging her about coming over here to visit, and she is only sixteen. She's a witch, but my mom is a Muggle, or maybe a Squib, I don't know. My dad isn't magical, that's for sure. But my mom is afraid of leaving and coming into an all-magical world, and she doesn't want to lose me, and now she just wants me home, and it's like she wants to forget this year ever happened!"

"Oh, Lorrell, I'm sure it will work itself out," said Ginny.

"And if you have to go to the States, it's no big deal. I'm seventeen, I can Apparate, yeah? And you're welcome to visit whenever you like," said Ron. "You won't lose me over this."

Lorrell looked at him, slightly relieved. "Thanks, Red. I'm glad to hear that."

"Love you, Sunshine."

"Love you, too," she answered, and soon the couple was making a display the rest did not want to see.

Walking away with Ginny and Harry, Hermione inquired, "Sunshine?"

"I think it's the hair," Ginny explained.

"They seem to have a thing for each other's hair," said Harry.

Hermione shook her head and added that to the list of things that made her and Ron incompatible.

She thought about the events of last night and decided it was a good thing neither of them had a hair fetish.

"So?" said Ginny.

Hermione felt her stomach drop. Mentally calculating how long they had before class started, she pulled them into an alcove and cast Muffliato.

"What I have to tell you is to be kept strictly between us. I may or may not even tell Ron. Do I need a wand oath from you two?"

Ginny and Harry looked at each other and then back at Hermione. Whatever it was, if it was this important, they weren't going to betray her confidence.

"No," said Ginny.

"You can trust us," said Harry.

"We're together," Hermione blurted.

If it hadn't been such a highly sensitive issue, Hermione would have been amused at seeing their equally flabbergasted faces.

"Together, like, together together?" Harry asked over Ginny's exclamation of "Did you sleep with him?"

"Ginny!" Hermione admonished. "Yes, Harry. Together, like together together. McGonagall already gave her consent, and I'm sure you can understand why we aren't broadcasting it. We're just going to give things a try, so it's not like you need to start making wedding plans, Ginevra Weasley. I can see those wheels turning."

Ginny had the maturity to at least look slightly abashed.

"So what happened? How did he ask you? Did he ask, or did you ask him? Do you call him your boyfriend? Because that would just be weird," rambled Ginny.

Harry looked a bit green around the gills. "Best not tell Ron. At least not right away. Not with Lorrell upset. You know how he is. He can't really take the stress, and with Quidditch and N.E.W.T.s and everything…"

"I know, you're right. But that means you two have to keep mum about it. And no, Ginny, of course I don't call him that. Right now I don't call him anything but Severus."

"Ooh, that's weird too," said Ginny.

"And I'm never going to call him Sev or Sevy because that's just asinine and sounds childish. He has a name, and if I call him anything down the road, it'll be like honey or something. I don't know. Even that sounds strange."

"I don't know if I can listen to this," Harry told her. "We have to go to Potions in a few minutes!"

Hermione huffed. "You'll be fine. I'm not going to go and snog him silly in front of the class or anything!"

"Snogging Snape. That's it. I'll see you in class, Hermione. Later, Gin."

They waved goodbye to him as Ginny pumped her for more details. Hermione explained how they had chatted after they had researched a bit and how he had had the chess set sing to her.

"You have an enchanted chess set?" asked Ginny. "And it sings? That's amazing! And he had it sing to you? Oh my, that is too sweet! I just cannot imagine that coming from him. Professor Snape…secret Hufflepuff. Who knew?"

"He is not a Hufflepuff. I can't even get him to agree to be cordial to Harry. He only said he'd try."

Ginny's eyes got as big as saucers. "You got Severus Snape to agree to even think about being decent to a Potter? Harry Potter? Hermione, are you sure you want to go into teaching? You could have a great career in diplomacy."

"Thanks, Ginny," Hermione said as they headed off to their respective classes. "I've had a lot of practice."

Teaser: "Never think about the boy a day in their lives, and suddenly, everyone is all distraught at his passing."