A/N This is a huge note, just to warn everyone, so if you don't want to read my rambling feel free to skip to the story. Guess what? Mike's turned out to be Perfect Boy, aka Gary Stew. I'd always planned on giving him a couple of annoying flaws, but he was never meant to be a major character… only now he has somehow become one, which is a right pain. So I thought I might as well make the most of it by giving him a few fatal flaws (I seriously considered Mad-Axe-Murderer-Mike, but something Whystical once said changed my mind…), which means I'm open to suggestions. I do know how I'm going to dispose of him (and since you all know what the pairing is I don't feel too guilty in giving that away), but a couple of annoying habits will make this a little more entertaining, so I'd love it if you would suggest some!

Second thing I have to address is HBP. No spoilers here, but I will say that the book, while I liked it, has seriously screwed up my little story. So we're now entering the realms of AU (not that, in all honesty, this wasn't AU to begin with…). And don't worry, I haven't forgotten the original challenge terms. There are still a few of them left, and one will occur in this chapter, I think. Almost finally, I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed, and to everyone who wished me a happy holiday (and those of you who told me my holiday was over so start writing… yep, you're the reason this actually got finished when it did grin). I would send you all Caramello Koalas, but I don't think that would work very well.

And, the very last thing, I'm about to start my last year of school this year, which means I'm a senior in the IB, which means I'm actually into negative free time. I promise I'll write as often as I can, but I need a 42 by the end of the year to get into the university I'm aiming for (pray for me if you know what that means), so updates won't be frequent. I will finish this, though (because it's too much fun not to, and because I'm fairly sure a few of you will kill me if I don't), but the sequel will be longer in coming simply because I plan on writing the whole thing before I post it. On the down side there's a longer initial wait, on the up side you're guaranteed frequent updates when it finally comes. Still, you can expect a few more chapters of this story. And now, at last, I'll shut up. Thanks to Gem for betaing this! I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hermione awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, feeling none of the sleepy disorientation that usually characterised her late night awakenings. There was a sound downstairs. The creak of a floorboard, maybe, or perhaps even a door swinging open. Gripping her wand, she stepped carefully out of bed and made her way stealthily down the stairs. A light in the kitchen was on, and to her relief it was Snape in there, pouring steaming water from the kettle. He must have made the noise that woke her. Watching him from the doorway, she saw him replace the kettle on its stand, draw another teacup from the cupboard, place a tea bag carefully in it, and then pour water into the second cup. A moment later both teabags were in the bin and he had poured milk into the cups, still without even glancing her way. Finally he took one in each hand and turned to her, offering her a cup.

"Thank you," she said, watching him carefully to see what he would do. There was a strange, almost unreal quality in the air tonight.

Snape nodded and moved past her into the hallway. He turned to go into the living room and paused at the doorway, facing her and arching an eyebrow to see if she was coming. Hermione nodded, clutching her tea, and followed. Snape sat on the sofa and pointed his wand at the cold fireplace. It immediately came to life, lighting up the dark room. He was sitting normally, not sideways as Hermione had become accustomed to seeing him in his armchair, and for some reason the new seat and position put her off balance. Or, she amended silently, more off balance than I already am. She knew she had to tell him about her job, and the sooner she did so the better. When she told him he would be much angrier if he found out that she had been keeping the information from him.

"What is it you want to tell me, Hermione?" he asked after there had been silence for a while. He looked different, strange and almost sinister in the darkness with only the flickering light of the fire illuminating his face.

"Remember we were talking about me getting a job?" she asked hesitantly, moving to sit on the same couch but not sitting directly next to him.

"Yes," he said abruptly, his eyes narrowing. "I thought we had decided you weren't going to do it."

"No," she said. "We didn't decide anything. But I want to do it, and it's really not so different from me doing debating three nights a week. It's only for three hours a night, and only on weekdays."

Snape's eyes narrowed further. "You seem to know all the details," he said coolly.

"I… asked at a restaurant today," Hermione said, flushing a little.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too difficult to see his expression in the dark. Hermione hoped rather feebly that he wasn't trying to contain rage.

"Miss Granger," he began softly. Hermione restrained the urge to gulp. This was a bad sign. For him to revert to formal address in that tone of voice did not bode well. "Why is it that you seem to be incapable of doing anything without consulting me first? You go on outings, you see movies, you join debate teams, you invite muggles over, and now you accept a job? You've replaced your old books with new ones, your old studies with this debating, and your old friends with new friends. You constantly flout the guidelines we have set up for our own safety, and now you set yourself up with a job that requires a steady commitment, a commitment that you might not be able to keep if we have to suddenly move again to escape Voldemort! How can I convince you to discuss these decisions of yours with the only person who knows of and can understand your predicament? I am the person affected most by your rash decisions, yet you choose to withhold information from me that could affect our very lives!"

By the end of his speech Hermione had tears flowing freely down her face. "I hate the way you think you can throw my flaws into my face and get away with it," she whispered. "I hate how you can say all of that to me… and that I know you're right." The admission took a lot out of her, and she said it in barely a whisper, not looking at him.

"You're just a child," he said softly, almost compassionately, with wonder in his voice.

"I can admit to weakness without being a child," she returned quietly, still not quite able to still the flow of tears. "I am sorry. I… I'm hoping that if my life is full enough, if I have something to do with my time, all the time, I'll be able to not think about what's happening out there. I miss them," she admitted with brutal honesty, "my parents and my friends. I'm scared. We don't even get the Daily Prophet. Nobody in the wizarding world has a clue who we are, not even my parents remember me anymore… nobody could tell us if… if something went wrong. Anything could have happened, and we wouldn't know. Doesn't it scare you?"

"I do not like not knowing," he admitted, "but neither do I like being kept in the dark. You must realise that just because nobody remembers our names and our identities does not mean that we are in no danger. Voldemort has safeguards against the Fidelius, has done ever since Lily and James Potter. He obviously cannot connect us with Severus Snape and Hermione Granger, but he is intelligent enough to realise that anybody hiding in the Fidelius is probably hiding from him with reason enough to hide themselves from the world to do so. It will not matter whether he knows who we are when he finds us for he will nevertheless recognise us as enemies and kill us anyway. Not knowing what is happening in the world is preferable to finding out and being killed for our pains. I promised Dumbledore that I would protect you with my life, and I will do so."

"I…" Hermione stopped. She couldn't think of anything to say. "Thank you," she said at last.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. "Think nothing of it. I suggest that you go to bed now. You have friends to meet tomorrow, do you not?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She was still reeling a little with the knowledge that he would give his own life for hers if it came to it. Impulsively she leant over and hugged him. He stiffened under her, but after a moment his arms came around her, awkwardly returning her hug. "Thank you," she whispered again, in his ear, before pressing her lips gently to his cheek. She disentangled herself from him and made her way to her room, leaving him sitting on the couch in the living room, motionless.

Hermione met up with Melissa for lunch the next day, taking the bike and dropping Snape off at the library on the way. She chatted with her over the meal, but her heart wasn't really in the conversation. Snape's words of the previous evening came back to her; if they did have to leave abruptly she would be leaving friends behind, friends who would worry about her.

"What's wrong, Jane?" Melissa asked, the sudden question breaking Hermione out of her reverie.

"Nothing's wrong," she said automatically, trying on a smile.

"Right. You've been quiet and sad all lunch, and now you're telling me you're fine."

Hermione briefly considered telling Melissa that she was on the run from a magical megalomaniac murderer, but decided that it probably wasn't the best option. Instead she said, "My uncle's considering accepting a job. In… um, Durham. It's not definite, or even very likely, but there's a chance we'll move again."

"But you've only been here what, two weeks? Three weeks? You can't move again so soon!"

"I don't know that I will move," Hermione said, "but I might. You see, at the school my uncle used to teach at there's… a professor who's sick. They're using substitute right now because they think he'll be back at work soon but if, um, if it gets worse then we'll have to leave. Pretty much immediately, too. I don't know if I'll even have time to say goodbye."

"Right." Melissa looked a little sceptical, and Hermione felt guilty all over again. This wasn't Harry and Ron who would believe any story she pulled out of thin air. Still, it wasn't like anyone normal would make a crazy story like that up, so maybe Melissa believed her…

"I don't know that it will happen," Hermione said truthfully. "But it might. I wanted you to know. Just… just in case."

"Have you told Mike?"

"Uh no, not yet," she replied, blushing. Would this be the time Melissa started the questions?

"So, about you and Mike…" the look in Melissa's eyes was predatory. Hermione's blush deepened. It would be a long afternoon.