The effects of the transfusion remain as Hermione's sixth year passes, fading slowly. She grows used to his magic curling around hers, and the complexity of his emotions that never show in his expressions. She takes to observing him instead whenever she can. In class, in the Great Hall during meals. It's often hard to find the cause for his emotions since she rarely hears what he's talking about other than in class, so she doesn't know what makes him so annoyed during a meal seated next to Professor Sprout and Professor Babbling, or what makes him happy when patrolling in the evening. The latter is revealed when the Gryffindor hour-glass loses a fair chunk of rubies and Lav-Lav and Won-Won end up in detention with Filch, but still.
The late evenings and nights are worse, when he's probably in his quarters alone and she isn't distracted by others. He's worried and anxious over something and she has no clue what it might be.
They don't talk about it, not when she helps him with brewing for the Infirmary, not during Occlumency lessons, not otherwise either. It wouldn't be fair to him when it's a one-way connection, one he didn't exactly choose. Well, he did do the transfusion voluntarily, but not for the sharing aspect.
Occlumency is interesting and not at all like what Harry described. She tries to talk to her friend about it but he deflects and gets angry whenever she tries, so she has to let it be.
Once she is able to successfully keep the Professor out of her mind, even during unprovoked attacks, he scribbles a note for Madam Pince. An unlimited pass to the Restricted Section. It gives her access to more books about Occlumency, Mind Magic in general, and wards. There isn't anything on Horcruxes, though.
Of Blood And Magick is intriguing, especially when combined with the references she's able to find in the Restricted Section. The language is as dusty as the book but it gives a clear idea of how a person's magic is expressed in their blood. It is not generated there, not exactly, but it seems to be stored and circulated in blood and the lymphatic system. It is blatantly obvious that blood transfusions will never be a large-scale option in the magical world, at least not with a magical donor. The book also discusses blood bonds, but apparently the practice was little used since it was a bit hit-and-miss before they discovered blood groups. That's not in the text but it must be the reason behind many receivers dying gruesome deaths.
The final piece of the puzzle is in another book. Marital bonds made while exchanging small amounts of blood, usually via a small cut near the base of the thumb, are apparently the strongest, especially when the partners share a blood group. Again the book doesn't go into details about something so Muggle as blood groups, but it mentions that the strength of the bonds might vary between couples due to factors not related to personality, magic or other such details.
There is obviously a one-sided bond between them, from him to her but not from her to him. It may be immature and fading, but it is there. The books and texts she's found on it confirm what her magic tells her. The fact that the bond hasn't decayed completely is a sign of their compatibility. They don't have to act on it, but the fact is there. Sharing of body fluids such as blood, saliva and… other secretions would strengthen it, effectively turning it into a magical marriage if both of them accepted the bond. They could reject it, sever the connection with magic and will. She wonders if the fact that he hasn't actively done so means something, but it is more likely that he simply thought it easier to let it fade on its own.
He pairs with her once, in class, when Seamus is ill and they are one short. Duelling with him is exhilarating. He's overpowering and quick to cast and fierce, his magic enveloping her. In the end they're both slightly wounded and have definitely lost track of time, and probably scared a few of her classmates which he likely sees as a bonus. He heals her afterwards, and she reciprocates. His cheek is warm, a slight not yet visible stubble rasping her fingertips, and he smells of something spicy and herbal.
He doesn't see her putting a finger in her mouth, the finger that traced the cut on his cheek. His blood fizzes on her tongue, and the small jolt of his magic feels like a double espresso.
She has begun to become aware of her own body in a way she never used to be, and it is heightened again after their impromptu duel. Perhaps it isn't due to his magic but it feels related. When Parvati and Lavender and the others started talking about boys and kissing and encounters in hidden alcoves during their fourth year Hermione used to sigh, roll her eyes and go somewhere else. She still does, the boys they talk about don't interest her, but late at night when she's in bed with her curtains shut and warded she lets her hands wander. She pulls up her t-shirt, letting her hands roam over her stomach. The scar still unnerves her. What if no one will like her when she looks like this? It snakes from her clavicle down between her breasts and she would need to use a Glamour if she wants to wear anything with cleavage or a Muggle bikini. Slowly she moves a hand down her body, under the hem of her pyjama bottoms and underwear. Her eyes drift shut. She wonders what it would be like, to have someone else's hands wandering over her body like this. One of her hands move to trace the underside of her breast while the other dips lower still. It feels good. Her hand slowly opens her up, making her legs part automatically. What if someone else did it, long fingers touching, rubbing, circling. She dips a finger inside, feeling the wetness, spreading it around her clit. A shudder runs through her and she starts to find the rhythm her body needs. He would murmur something in her ear, kiss her neck and lean against her side and his breath hot against her skin and oh. It's him. Dark hair and a hooked nose and dark eyes that seem to see into her soul.
"Professor!" she groans into her pillow as she shatters.
When she comes down from her high it is to two rather unsettling realisations. One is that Lavender, Parvati and the others actually are on to something: this whole thing with boys might be worth it, after all. The second is that she appears to have a crush on her Professor. Severus Snape, the most unapproachable man in the whole Castle, excluding some of the ghosts. Well, perhaps not so unapproachable after all? His feelings seem to point at a highly passionate man who worries about the safety of his students and others, someone who cares deeply but hides it behind a sneering, sarcastic facade.
~ x ~ xx ~ oo ~ xx ~ x ~
Her magic is almost back to normal at the end of their sixth school year. There is an edge to it, however, as if her magic has been honed by his. She's faster with her wand and especially in DADA her spells are a lot stronger than they used to be.
She should have figured out something would happen before they left for summer but still the end of the year is completely unexpected, almost paralysing her with a pain that isn't fully her own. Harry is rabid, everyone is grieving, and Hermione doesn't know what to think.
~ x ~ xx ~ oo ~ xx ~ x ~
A week later she's back home, thinking about everything but the task she has set herself. It's too difficult, too much. Will it work, can she reverse it? Her parents are oblivious to her plans but they can sense that something is wrong. You can always come to me, Hermione, her father says. Her mother adds, Is it a boy? I hope he doesn't bring you too much trouble, dear. They're not worth it if they don't like you for what you are. She smiles, shakes her head and hugs both of them.
Summer has hit hard, but in unexpected ways. Hermione sighs. It is hard to think of him, considering everything. Perhaps she should have seen it coming. Her thoughts keep returning to him and their interactions. He can't be what Harry thinks he is, there is no way. She knows it. His actions throughout the year have proven it, but the final proof came later.
That night, the night when it happened, his feelings of anguish spiked so high through the bond she felt her own heart breaking. There were no feelings of triumph or sadistic joy and exhilaration. There was only misery and anguish and, later, a hollowness that threatens to swallow her whole. The feelings are muted by distance but the sheer intensity must be why she can still feel them.
It doesn't exactly help that she's feeling down too, for the same and completely different reasons. It feels like two lifetimes later when she's sent off her parents on a flight to Australia and has Warded the house down with everything she can think of, including a couple rather Dark ones she found in a book in the Black library. It has to be enough.
~ x ~ xx ~ oo ~ xx ~ x ~
The year on the run is awful. Chasing hints and false trails, being left all alone without recourse and with a Horcrux around their necks. Only when she focuses, when both boys are quiet for once and someone else is wearing the Horcrux, can she sometimes sense him. It's easier when they are in Scotland, closer to Hogwarts, but occasionally she senses him at other times too. Bitterness and grief and anger chased with fear and worry, but at least he's alive.
She's jolted awake that night when Harry is supposed to be on guard. Is he here? She cannot make sense of it, not even when Harry and Ron return with the Sword of Gryffindor and the broken locket. But the feelings of weariness, exhaustion and bone-deep misery aren't purely her own. She stays put, without a wand she cannot go look for him, not if she wants to find her way back, but everything is telling her to go seek him out, to touch him and say he isn't alone.
At Malfoy Manor she retreats inwards, starting as soon as she crosses the threshold. She tries to hold on to the tenuous link to him while Occluding, hiding her truths deep inside even when the pain overwhelms her senses. It takes her a long time to return to her own skin after, having Occluded so hard she barely remembers how to breathe. Later, at Shell Cottage, Luna looks at her sharply.
"Too bad the link isn't complete, or he could have helped you. I know he would have, if he'd known."
Hermione doesn't have the strength to answer. She just nods.