Hermione curled in her favorite chair in the library, a heavy book cuddled in her lap. Her eyes ran back and forth across the yellowed page, rapidly intaking the information. She shifted slightly as her foot started to sleep, but otherwise made few movements.
"I knew I could find you here, Miss Granger," Snape said as he sat down in the seat next to her.
Hermione left her book open and just glared at the older man. "If that is all you wish to say, Professor Snape," she told him.
Snape inhaled nervously. If Hermione noticed his action, she paid no attention to it. "Look, Miss Granger, I wanted to apologize for what I said to you earlier."
"Professor, I know you're sorry. But as you said, the war is too dangerous for me to be involved with you. For what it's worth, I forgive you, but I don't think we should continue to see each other."
"I understand, Miss Granger," Snape replied to her, barely restraining himself from revealing his hurt. He could deal with her anger, her resentment, her scorn, or her hatred. The one one behavior that he could not tolerate was being pitied.
