Hello, hello. It's almost Christmassss. Should I do a Christmas one-shot? Little bit of cuteness in this chapter, then maybe we can get back to working on this potion!

Over the next three days, Hermione remained confined within the nightmares of her mind. With each passing hour Severus grew more distressed, though he actively fought it and refused to show this to any of his peers. The only one who had an inkling of his feeling was Poppy, and even she didn't consider the possibility of anything more than their working relationship. When he wasn't reading by her bedside in the evenings or explaining to her dunderheaded friends where the girl was (once they finally realised she was missing), the potions professor was researching anything and everything that had ever been written on mental health in both magical and muggle realms. There wasn't much. There was even less on potions beyond physical ailments. He found it ironic that the incapacitated person currently drooling onto her pillow next to him would be his first pick to ask for help. Despite her ailments, Hermione had proven herself to be even more intelligent than he had given her credit for. She was a planner and thinker, which was part of why he couldn't understand the way she had thrown herself headfirst into danger on their last trip. Ms Granger didn't make these kinds of mistakes.

On Sunday evening, Hermione's eyes opened blearily before rapidly closing again as she winced. The stark smell and feel of the hospital wing assaulted her dormant senses. Her mild slowly began to drag itself awake and a deep, somehow familiar voice somewhere to her left stated

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms Granger."

The voice triggered a sorrowful ache in her chest, though Hermione couldn't understand why. Forcing her eyes open again, everything came rushing back as her eyes landed on the man sitting rigid beside her bed. She had placed her trust and perhaps unknowingly begun to place her heart, in the hands of the wrong person. A spark of anger caused her face to twist indignantly. In the back of her mind, Hermione acknowledged she was about to be foolish. It didn't stop her though.

"What are you doing here?"

The witch made sure to keep her voice monotone, hoping desperately that her emotions didn't betray her.

"You had a seizure and Madam Pomfrey decided my assistance was required. You have been unconscious for three days now."

This new knowledge was enough to take the edge of her anger. She felt all sorts of emotions from anger through to shame. Overlying them all was one she refused to identify.

"Well, I'm awake now. You can stop wasting precious time on me as I'm sure you have plenty to be getting on with". Knowing she was being petulant, but unable to stop herself, Hermione continued without giving him a chance to reply.

"You have put far too much time and effort into a foolish little Gryffindor mudblood such as myself. I don't need your pity, or help"

At that, Professor Snape arose. Hermione would have preferred a cutting remark or vicious quip to the saddened look that briefly filled his eyes. Without a word, he left.

Severus had expected her words, but no amount of mental preparation took away their sting. He deserved it, really. She had opened up to him, trusted him and then he'd turned around and left her. All because of the cowardice hidden behind the leering black persona. A headache formed behind his eyes and it was all he could do not to pour a stiff drink. Instead, he turned his mind to a more practical avenue. It would take a lot of persuasion before she would even consider helping him with the potion any further, he knew.

By the early hours of Monday morning, the Potions Master had written and rewritten several missives. Blearily, he tied it to the leg of his owl and sent it flying off before promptly passing out.

Hermione was lying awake listening to the gentle patter of rain on the hospital wing windows when the owl swooped in under the rafters. It cooed softly, landing on the bedframe. She untied the satiny black ribbon and gave the owl a piece of chicken from her untouched dinner plate. Lowering her eyes, she read.

"Ms Granger,

I am truly apologetic for the way I have been acting these past weeks. Sourcing potions ingredients has been surely dull without your enthusiasm and company. I would deeply appreciate it if you would continue to aid me in the creation of the potion. There is still much to be done. However, I do understand that I have offended you and will accept your refusal without complaint.

Regards, SS."

By the time she had finished reading his scrawl, her eyebrows were up near her hairline. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine a written apology and a documented compliment. Still, he had hurt her feelings. Hadn't he? The more she thought on it, the more she realised that it was likely unintentional. He didn't know the extent of her feelings and couldn't possibly have realised how much his brusque manner stung. Knowing Professor Snape, he probably thought he was doing the best thing for both of them. Always the quiet hero. A wave of guilt swept over her with the realisation of her own selfishness. She had been angry at him for her own feelings, which he didn't have a clue of! Feelings that were entirely foolish and inappropriate. The lump in her throat stubbornly refused to leave and Hermione sat in bed and wept. The only thing that allowed her some sleep in the wee hours was the letter and the sliver of hope it held that all was not lost between them.

Ms Granger was absent from class on Monday but was seated when he swept into the class on Tuesday. She was yet to reply to his letter and despite his best efforts to remain uncaring, his temper was foul. No less than three minutes and seventeen seconds into the lesson, Gryffindor lost 30 house points. He set them to work writing an essay on Bezoars and spent the rest of the lesson organising his stores. Severus waited until the heavy door had swung shut after the last student before returning to the classroom where, yet again, he almost wound up smacking straight into the object of his pain. She stood before him, brown eyes wide and chewing characteristically on her bottom lip.

"Sir I-"

"Ms Granger, your silence is telling. I understand entirely. Please leave me".

"Professor-"

"Leave before I take more points from Gryffindor, lord knows they don't need it."

Hermione was beginning to get desperate, and frustrated.

"WILL you just listen to me, please. ?"

Both appeared shocked by her bold outburst.

"So-sorry. I didn't write because I wanted to say it in person. I just need to tell you. I'm the one who should be sorry. It was foolish of me to put myself, and you, in danger the way I did on the ice. I only wanted to.."

"Wanted to what, Ms Granger?"

"Um...Nevermind. But the point is Sir, you didn't do anything to warrant an apology. It was my wrongdoing. If you'll still consider it, I should like to continue helping you with your work. "

"The famous Ms Granger admits herself to be in the wrong. Are you still ill?"

Normally, the scathing remark would have ruffled her feathers but right now she felt relieved, and victorious.

"Very well, I shall inform you when I next require your assistance."

Relief and joy still dancing in her system, Hermione smiled softly. Not thinking, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, for saving my life." Without waiting to see his reaction and wanting to hide her own, she turned and hurried out of the classroom.

Severus lifted a hand to his cheek, watching the girl's retreating back. What in the seven hell's had just happened? Her lips felt like soft rose petals against the rough stubble of his cheek. His heart was beating at least twice as fast as usual. God's. If the risk of drowning in a freezing lake meant he was to be thanked by those lips, he would gladly do so again.