A/N: I don't know what to say. It seems it has become almost impossible for me to stick to the schedule of writing and editing and updating in these times... I'm trying though. I'm sorry for the irregularity of the posts. I'm feeling guilty about not giving this enough time, but it's just so hard. Anyway, I won't waste more of your time here.

kagomeLove2 and Adreob, I have answered your questions at the end of the update.

Please enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 33 Breaking The Ice

Landing at the gates of Hogwarts, the sharp crack of Apparition in the dead of the night startled the owls that were hunting around. A bitterly cold wind assaulted the recently Apparated pair as they made their way inside the castle, dodging any eye awoke at the hour.

Escaping to the dungeons seemed preferable than going to the Hospital Wing. Severus decided to use the passage that directly led to his quarters. Granger needed medical attention and quick. But they could not afford to go to Poppy and reveal Granger's position in the plan. Once again, Severus was glad to have a fundamental knowledge of Healing with potions.

Severus could feel the girl shaking in his arms. The Cruciatus did leave the victim cold and shivering and the end of October did little to help. At some point, she had turned her head to bury her face in the folds of his robe. Her curls hid her remaining visage behind. One of her hands had the fabric of his cloak bunched in a fist, as if her vice-like grip was keeping her from fading. She was not moving and Severus had a fear that she might have slipped into unconsciousness.

He entered his quarters through the dark passageway, one that he had navigated through for years, and allowed the entrance to be sealed and camouflaged into the wall. His quarters were chilling, deep in the dungeons as they were. The living room fireplace was unlit, too.

Lamps lit of their own accord, sensing the presence of the occupants. Severus gingerly lowered Granger to sit on the leather chaise, mindful of her injuries. He gently situated her feet to rest on the carpet. As Severus retrieved himself of her, light wrinkles settled where her hand had clutched at his cloak. On looking up, it was to find her gaze fixated rather blankly at a spot above his shoulder. Observing the hard, cold eyes staring into nothingness, he knew, for the first time, what exactly Albus found so peculiar about him when he went to see him after a summoning.

Severus lit a fire in the hearth and cast a Warning Charm in the room. "I will be back in a moment," he informed Granger—whom, he doubted, had even heard him—and stalked to his Private Lab.

Long suppressed waves of fury were sending tremors to his chest. The girl should never have been a part of the abominable game! Albus should have ensured Granger's security prior to the attack on her house, prior to her involvement in the fatal scheme! She was meant to be safe in her Tower at this moment, among her peers, where she was far away from the repulsive meetings that were held in the Malfoy Manor and being compelled to kill a man! Her life should never have been in the line of fire! Now, he stood with a morbid knowledge—the Dark Lord wouldn't spare Granger once he decided she hadn't had much to offer. Only as long as they played closely by their subterfuge, she would be safe. Severus fervently hoped that she wouldn't be called for a long time now.

Only the consideration that his throwing a cauldron to the wall and watch it shatter with a resounding clatter would only alarm Granger and delay her treatment stopped Severus from giving into his urges.

Severus huffed a sigh and caught the edge of the counter before his hands could yank the nearest batch of Pepper-ups and fling each and every vial to the wall. Was it more training that she needed? But training in what? How to use the Killing Curse effectively? There was a limit to what he could teach her, and he had taught her all that could be. He couldn't tame her innate nature.

He shook his head and drew a cleansing breath. At this moment, his priority was Granger's health. There would be enough time later to brood over the likely consequences of this arrangement. He collected a few potions that usually helped him after a summon like that to fight the after-effects of the Cruciatus and the likes. Along with that, he grabbed a vial of the Calming Draught, as well. He sent his Patronus to Albus with a message of their return and a terse assurance to give him the relevant information next morning as nothing was exactly time-sensitive. He watched the silver doe escape through the opaque walls, flouncing its way to the Headmaster. The presence of the doe skittered some relief through him after the dreadful night.

Severus returned to Granger's side. The girl still hadn't moved. He perched on the coffee table before her. Her eyes saw him but barely registered much. Severus had attended such summons enough to know that they were not pleasant by any means. First time when somebody had been killed in front of him—a witch who worked for the Minister, he remembered, he had felt the shock that was inevitable. But Severus had been a part of the clan willingly. He had accepted the darkness that was rooted within him. But Granger was neither willing nor harboured darkness. Being ordered to kill a man, albeit a stranger, and then watching him being killed while she remained helpless, was bound to have an impact on her. Severus could only hope for her to recover quickly.

If he was entirely honest with himself, he felt a tinge of relief. There had been a fair chance the Dark Lord would have killed the girl tonight, owing to his sheer anger. He was immensely irked at her reluctance to obey him. But after knowing Granger long enough, Severus could not say that he had not expected such resistance from her. Granger was not capable of killing an innocent. She was not even a part like him—like how he had been at her age.

He picked up a glass vial and uncorked it. "This will help with the after-effects of the curses." Her eyes remained inanimate. If she was ruminating over the events, she did not appear to be. Severus could see the icy blankness blanketing her expressions—her Occlumency Shields were obviously up.

With tremulous hands, she accepted the vial, and swallowed the greenish-blue liquid without question. She repeated the actions with automatic motions with the other two vials that he offered. Severus did not give her the Calming Draught, not wanting her to suppress more than she already was.

A basic Diagnostic Charm revealed some minor damage to the pelvic bones that were still healing. The curses had reversed her recovery by approximately two weeks. Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to contain the litany of curses that were bubbling to be spat out in regards to the Dark Lord and Bellatrix Bloody Lestrange.

He took another cleansing breath to control his temper. "Do you require a Pain Reliever?" He asked.

The blankness concealed any recognition that she might have of him and his words.

"Granger," Severus said quietly but the quiet of the night carried his voice around the room, "Look at me."

She turned her head slightly to fix her inscrutable gaze at him. Her slightly dilated pupils held a sharp tightness that was nearing opaqueness.

"Let go," he implored. "Please, let go." She blinked before looking away, her Shields still intact.

He slid on the carpet and steadied himself on his knees to be at eye level with the witch and leaned towards her. Abating the arguments in his head, he brought a hesitant hand to cup her cheek and turn her to look at him. A flash of surprise flickered through her closed face, but she did not flinch.

Looking into her eyes with insistence, "Please, let it go," he whispered.

"I don't want to think about it," she whispered back with a cold quaver prominent in her voice.

"Running away will not aid you," he said as matter-of-fact. "Let it go."

Granger stared at him for a long moment, as if deciding how much sense his claim held. She ducked her head and closed her eyes. When she opened, Severus saw that the subtle hardness around her irises had vanished. What was left were the soft brown pupils staring back at him. Immediately, like a surge of memories had come back rushing to assault her, her face crumpled and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears which were fighting for a release.

Severus nodded, satisfied with the much needed release and retreated his hand from her face.

She bent her face and Severus found her resting her forehead on his shoulder. For all his aversion to close proximity and physical contact with people, he found himself unable to shrug her away. He remained motionless as her hands came to draw his cloak into her fists again. And soon, he could feel her body trembling with barely audible, soft sobs.

Severus found himself at an utter loss. He had never comforted a soul in almost four decades he was alive for. Last time when she had wept after Bellatrix's visit, he had only watched from a distance, rather uselessly. Or had stood hidden behind the curtains in the Infirmary, away from her sight. But now, he felt something akin to a desperation to...console her in some fashion.

Severus opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what words of comfort to offer. Despite his wish to provide reassurance, his lack of practice let him down. Instead, he shifted up to support her form, for he knew she could not afford to bend any further and aggravate her injuries. Severus raised a hand to reach her head, but stopped, clenching it into a tight fist. It would not be appropriate, he decided. Not that any of this screamed propriety by any means.

"They...killed him," a deep sob accompanied her words. Severus found his fist opening of its own accord and coming to rest on her curls. As a result, she buried her face deeper.

"My spell...the Incendio..." She murmured incoherently, her voice muffled into his shoulder.

"Your spell did nothing to harm the man, Granger," he said firmly. "Your spell was rendered futile by your deliberate mispronunciation of the incantation."

"But he...screamed...he..." Her voice broke.

"You could not have done anything differently," he told her.

She shook her head, her curls tickling his chin. "I shouldn't have sent any spell at all."

"The Dark Lord would not have hesitated to kill you," he said, his tone lightly admonishing. "It would have been taken for blatant disobedience."

"I can't...I can't do this anymore..." She said, shuddering. "This... Any of this..."

His other hand came to rest on her shoulder tentatively. "I do notagree."

"Can't...can't... I... How can I..." Her sobs turned to heart wrenching cries. "It...comes back. Everything just... No matter how I try... I can't do this anymore... I'll never be... I'll never be fixed... I'll never be good again. I'm...I'm losing my mind!"

"You are not losing your mind and you have nothing to be fixed of," Severus said firmly to drive the words home. "You are handling the situation better than could be expected. You want to recover, Granger, most people I know would like nothing more than to wallow in self-pity and curse their fates."

"I feel like..." She let out a shuddering breath. "It's like I'm made of glass. Something happens and...I feel like I'm...I'm under this gloomy...sky."

"Tell me, when was the last time you felt that way," he asked. He kept his voice even, though the things that she spoke of reminded him disturbingly of the night he had found her below the Astronomy Tower. He shook the image out of his mind and focused on the present.

Having rested her damp cheek on his shoulder, she answered, "I don't know... Maybe when...we had that...the memory with Harry...in the dormitory..."

Severus recalled the day. It was the night he had placed extra wards on the Astronomy Tower. "And what did you do?"

"I didn't- I wrote," he murmured.

"In your diary?"

She nodded.

"And how did you feel after that?" He asked.

"B-Better," she murmured.

"If not self-help, what would you call it?"

"But then...why do I...why don't I just come out of it?" She questioned, her voice barely above a resigned whisper.

"Because these things take time," he replied.

She fell silent and so did he, each of them contemplating the scenario. Severus could hear her breathing evening out. He wondered if she had fallen asleep and looked down. Granger was looking into a distance.

"How long?" She asked.

It took him a moment to realise what she was speaking of. How long? How long did it take him after Lily was killed? How long did he take to recuperate after his imprisonment at Azkaban? Was there a specific period of time? Did he have time, at all, to recuperate mentally among his new duties as a Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin? At times, he was grateful to Albus for trusting him with more responsibilities that he could have handled back then for it didn't spare him any time to ruminate over his plight; other times, he despised Albus for burdening him with the load that never granted him space to come to terms with the events.

"That depends from person to person," he told her. "If you are willing, you will soon find yourself above the hollowness that you feel so strongly at times."

She raised her head to look at him, her eyes bloodshot and face tearstained. But she didn't look lost, not hopeless as she had at the beginning of the school term. "How do you know how exactly it feels?" She whispered.

Had it been any other person, Severus would have never felt the inclination to answer. But suddenly, he realised that the usual rules did not apply to her anymore. "Because I had once been where you are today."

Her eyes bore into his with question. "When?"

"After the first war," he felt no qualms about revealing to her what he had never to anyone.

"Is that when you...changed sides?" She asked with hesitation.

"I had changed sides before the war came to an end, but the reason why I changed sides, my purpose, remained unfulfilled," he gave a nebulous account. "Thus, I can empathise with your predicament."

"What did you do?" Granger's voice was small, but desperate to know.

Severus pulled himself up and perched on the coffee table again. He gestured towards a corner in the room. Granger followed his finger and her eyes widened in surprise. "Piano? You play?"

"Sometimes," he said. "But I used to play regularly back in the day."

"And it helped?"

Did it? "It did."

"What happened?" Granger asked.

"Somebody, very close to me, was killed," he found himself telling her.

"By Riddle?"

"Yes. And partly because of me."

"Did you intend to?" Her voice grew gravely quiet.

"Never," he replied, just as quietly.

"Then you are not to be blamed."

"And you are to be blamed for the plight of that Muggle?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No... Perhaps not," her eyes gained a depth, and she seemed to be decades older than she was. "But you still blame yourself for what Riddle did, all those years back."

Her words held no accusation, neither did her eyes reflect curiosity to force words out of him. She looked to be speaking from experience. "I, too, have blamed myself for what happened with my parents," she said quietly. "Until they told me that I am blameless."

He frowned, "They told you?"

"Will you believe me if I tell you that I had met them, after I jumped?" A rueful smile crept on her face. Severus' frown deepened. "They sent me back."

In the silence, the flames danced in the hearth almost mesmerisingly. "That is...not possible." He did not believe in Necromancy. That and Divination were a little more than facade to him, probably due to his remnant Muggle legacy.

"Do you want to see?" She offered willingly.

Did he? Did he want to see the people he had killed? Did he want to know if Granger truly did talk to her deceased parents? Clearly, she wanted him to watch. If it were any other time, any other time but this, when she was disoriented and he was exhausted, neither would she have offered nor he accepted. But tonight, neither of them was mindful enough and had let words slip without bars and acted without much thought of propriety.

"Yes."

"Go on," she allowed.

Severus withdrew his wand and placed the tip on her right temple.

"Legilimens."

He met with no resistance as Granger allowed him access to her store of memories. It was familiar territory to Severus after training her in Occlumency for weeks. She pushed a specific bubble towards him, It was wrapped in pure white hue, or maybe it wasn't white at all but a melange of a profusion of lights. The memory was fondly kept, he could tell.

As he neared the bubble, it exuded joy, hope and affection so intense that it seeped into his mind as well.

On merely touching it, Severus could feel the raw emotions—that were not his—thrumming through him. Severus could feel Granger's palpable reluctance to resume living, to return to the world of living, her parents' tireless efforts at convincing their daughter of the life that was waiting for her, and then Granger's eventual relenting. He pulled his hand back from the bubble, this memory was too pristine for him to intrude. He didn't need to watch the scene unfold to know where Granger had been.

If he had ever doubted miracles or suspected the wonder that Magic was, Severus withdrew from her mind convinced otherwise.

Granger had, indeed, met with the dead, embraced them, conversed with them and returned after touching the very edge of death. That discomfited and bewildered him at the same time.

"Did you see?" she murmured.

"You assured them you're willing to try," he said quietly, a part of his mind was still fogged. "Do you stand on that?"

"I do, yes," she whispered. "But I'm afraid to slip."

You won't. Not again. "You won't. You remember the third signal we established?"

"Yes," she nodded and conveyed an assurance to send him the signal when in need.

As they sat in companionable silence, they contemplated the night but neither spoke and deterred the peace, no matter how momentary it was. Later, they'd often revisit the night and ponder over their actions, the words and secrets that had been exchanged. But tonight, they sat in peace. Together.

UUUUUUU

"Hey, Hermione," Lavender approached her sheepishly. She had not been on talking terms with her dorm-mates since their comments on her scars when she had first returned to classes.

"Hi," Hermione said trying to be cold. She had come to the Library after her classes until she was required to go to Madam Pomfrey for her shift.

"What're you working on?" Lavender asked, peering into her notes.

Her notes pertained to Professor Snape's Headache Relieving Charm that she was still struggling with. Since the night of being summoned—which had happened two days ago—she had a newfound drive to come up with a Healing Charm for him soon.

Their last conversation still played in her mind. And every time, she wondered how he was so open to her...

He had talked and listened to her. Even after her pathetic display before Voldemort, he never berated her. Harry was right, the Severus Snape she had come to know was different from the man the rest of them knew.

She wanted to do something for him. She wanted to create a Charm for him that would help him. So whenever she had free time, Hermione worked on the Charm.

"Hermione?" Lavender stood waiting.

"Just some Healing stuff," she shrugged, closing her notebook.

"Can I sit?" She asked coyly.

"Yes." After living with her dorm-mates for more than five years, she knew that tone. Lavender needed a favour.

Lavender sat on the chair closest to hers. "So, well, I was meaning to ask you, will you go to Hogsmeade this Saturday?"

Hermione blinked. She did not expect that question. "I don't know yet. Why?"

"Uh... Actually, I was thinking about asking Ron out," she grinned. "So if you don't come, you know...he'll come with me."

"He'll go with you irrespective of whether I accompany him or not, if he wants to, that is," she said.

"No, he won't," she said insistently. "Ron will never come with me, if you come. And well, Hermione, don't mind, but it's not like you can roam around the village in your...Chair, anyway."

Hermione did her best impression of Professor Snape, raised eyebrow and all. "I don't recall asking for your advice, Lavender."

The other girl sniffed in annoyance. "I was just saying for your own good."

"I have people to look after me, thank you," Hermione rolled her eyes. "And as for Ron, ask him out or whatever. I'm not going to Hogsmeade, anyway. I have work in the Hospital Wing."

"Oh, great!" Annoyance forgotten, Lavender grinned toothily. "I'll go and ask Ron then. And if he asks you to go with him, just say no. Okay?"

Hermione frowned at her authoritative tone. "I know what I have to do, Lavender. Now if you could excuse me, I have studying to do."

Lavender, on her part, did not seem to care for Hermione's tone. She was revelling in her own make-believe world.

Hermione sighed. It would be good for Ron to seek somebody else out. If he was well-settled in his life, with Lavender or whoever, it would be easy for Hermione. She had no plans of telling Ron about the bond anytime soon. But she would have to, someday. And if that day Ron was happy in his life, he would not react as badly as he otherwise would.

Moreover, Ron deserved a life, love. Love that Hermione, perhaps, could never give him. Not that she would ever know... But she contented herself counting all the differences between them.

We will never work. Or so she told herself.

Pushing those glum

thoughts away, Hermione reopened her notebook to resume working on the Charm. But as she sat solving a riddle of equations, her mind went gallivanting to the night of the summoning. It was in vague, hazy excerpts that Hermione could recall how she had reached her room in the Hospital Wing after that conversation with the Professor. He had cast a Disillusionment Charm on them and then escorted her to her room under the concealment. Then he had probably summoned Karly...

That was all that she remembered, for her next memory was of herself waking up in her bed, more relaxed than she had expected after being hit by the excruciating curses the night before.

And that train of thoughts led her into wondering if he had been uncomfortable while she was drawing her comfort? His shoulder had been stiff when she had first leaned against him. But when his hand had descended on her head and later on her shoulder, she had been comfortable and comforted. She had felt...warm.

Finding herself inexplicably smiling, Hermione hastily sobered and took a quick glance around.

Charm, Hermione. Focus on the Charm!

UUUUUUU

Later, in the Great Hall, Harry and Ron focused more on convincing Hermione to accompany them to Hogsmeade than on the dinner itself. Even Ron left more than half of his blueberry pudding on his plate, continuously asking her to come along.

But Hermione somehow dodged, making all sorts of excuses. She told them how much work she had in the Hospital Wing. All the impending homework—that did not exist—was used as an excuse.

When Ron was out of earshot, Harry even asked her if Professor Snape had ordered her not to go, much to Hermione's irritation. "God, Harry, why do you think he's a beast and I'm a damsel in distress who will relent to his unreasonable commands without fighting tooth and nail? And that does not mean he has given me any commands—ever."

That seemed to have relieved Harry considerably.

"You remember our plan with Professor Slughorn, right?" She changed the topic before Harry could push it further. That seemed to draw Ron's attention to them, too.

"Yeah, tomorrow night," Ron grinned. He was the most excited about it since the beginning. Everything appealed to him outside the curriculum.

"After dinner, yes," Hermione nodded. "Harry?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore keeps asking me about my progress, anyway," he rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you excited to find out what's there in the memory?" Ron asked.

"As far as I know my luck, nah. I'm not excited to find out," Harry shrugged.

Later, Ginny asked Harry for an official outing, jokingly hinting to go to the alley behind Madam Puddifoot's. The fact that she was quite vocal—though in jest—about going to an alley that was both famous and notorious among the students for entertaining 'proper' couples, in front of the whole Gryffindor table—especially her brother—had Harry sputtering and flushing. Ron, on the other hand, pretended not to have heard and left the table in favour of walking back to the Tower with an overly enthusiastic Lavender.

Hermione always enjoyed Hogsmeade weekends. The only trip as it was to venture outside the school grounds. She loved Butterbear and even though she was a Prefect and was expected to discourage students from buying from Zonko's, she secretly liked that, too. She adored the atmosphere.

But perhaps sitting in the Library would not be a bad idea either. She could work on the Charm without disturbance.

UUUUUUU

Fifteen years, Severus sipped his Firewhiskey. Fifteen years and yet, the 31st of October never escaped his notice. Did the Dark Lord have to choose a day so extraordinary to accomplish his deeds? The infernal celebration never let him forget exactly what had transpired on that very date, fifteen years ago.

Severus closed his eyes. Until last year, he was thinking how little his life had changed since Lily... And now, merely a year later, he ruminated over the drastic changes his life had taken.

Granger. That change was Granger.

He took another sip. Alcohol was not his usual escape. But in times like these, alcohol distracted him. Distracted him from the memories which were created with such fondness, memories that dug into him like thorns.

"Expecto Patronum," he whispered out the spell. Sometimes, he liked to watch the doe, it reminded him most clearly of Lily. But today, maybe he did not have access to memories happy enough to conjure anything more than a few wisps of light. He kept his wand back with a huff.

In the backdrop of Lily's image in her head, he could hear his conversation with Granger.

'Somebody, very close to me, was killed.'

In her credulousness, in her innocence, how easily she had believed to have released him of all charges. 'You are not to be blamed.'

If he ever told her how he was the only one to be blamed... He sighed. She was innocent and association with him would only tarnish her.

And yet, he found a sense of peace in her telling him...what? Telling him that he was not at fault, even if he had heard the Prophecy and sealed Lily's fate? Sealed Granger's closest friend's fate?

Severus downed the liquid in his glass. It slithered down burning his throat. He could not wallow in absurdities like that. Not again.

UUUUUUU

He did not come for the Feast, Hermione noted. Wasn't it mandatory for the entire staff to be present on special Feasts? Even Madam Pomfrey and Professor Trelawney were present on the Head Table.

Oh, no, was he summoned? But she was certain that his forearm had not burnt.

Was he ill? But she could not feel anything out of place.

Then was he busy? Grading or brewing? Could be. But what about dinner then? He didn't eat enough, she had noted on many occasions. But he never skipped meals either, not in her knowledge, anyway.

Maybe he had called it an early night. But so early?

God, Hermione, stop behaving like an obsessive freak!

She took a bite of the chicken and diverted her attention to what Ginny was saying.

"Do you think I should take Harry to Madam Puddifoot's?" She asked. "A romantic date, what say?"

"He didn't have a very good experience there with Cho Chang, though," Hermione recalled.

"Well, good for me that," Ginny laughed. "But that was because Cho was a moron. Nothing against Madam Puddifoot's."

"Why don't you go somewhere quiet?" Hermione suggested.

"I know, your idea of a date is in a Library, Hermione, but I love Harry more than I could ever love books," she snickered.

"Who said I'd like to go to a Library," Hermione said defensively.

"Then what, a bookstore?"

"A nice walk, somewhere peaceful," Hermione stated.

"Too oldschool," Ginny remarked.

"I think I like oldschool," Hermione shrugged.

"But I don't," Ginny said. "So Puddifoot's?"

"Sure, go, but ask Harry first," she suggested.

Her gaze again travelled to the Head Table. The seat beside Professor McGonagall was still empty. But he had been fine when she had seen him in class this morning—normal, as in by his own standards. He had been scowling the whole time.

Oh, no. He did not bearate Ron today when his Non-verbals failed, she recalled. So perhaps, he was not himself entirely.

"Hermione?"

"Why isn't Professor Snape here?" She murmured, not really paying attention to her words.

"Er...Snape?" Ginny looked confused. "I mean, who cares?"

"But the entire staff is here," Hermione said.

"D'you think he's upto something?" Ron was suddenly all ears.

"Oh, God, Ron, no," she rolled her eyes. "I just asked casually."

"Ha, nothing with that Greasy Git is casual," he muttered.

"Can you stop calling him that," she said irritably. "If you spend that much time before a cauldron, your hair will be just as greasy!"

"Woah," Ron held up his hands. "What's gotten into you today? We always call him that."

"Then maybe it's time to break the habit," she said sharply.

"It's funny," he shrugged.

"As funnny as calling Harry a Scarhead, you a Weasel and me a Know-It-All!" She huffed.

"Nobody but Snape calls you a Know-It-All," Ron pointed out.

"He does not, anymore," she pursed her lip.

"He called you that only a few days ago," Ron folded his arms arrogantly.

"That was in class," she put her fork down with a clatter.

"So when does he see you outside class, anyway?"

Oh, damn! You are a fool, Hermione!

Just then—by accident—Harry had his spoonful of potatoes dropped on his robe. "Shit!"

"Another moron, that one," Ginny shook her head. "Clean it before it leaves a stain."

"You're talking like Mum," Ron chuckled.

"You mean sensibly? Thanks," Ginny smirked.

Hermione flashed Harry a grateful smile, to which he nodded in understanding. Maybe a new set of robes would make a good Christmas gift for him.

A/N: I'm not fond of berating my own writing but this one feels a bit like patchwork to me. Also, this was a shorter chapter and though I had more planned for this, I couldn't fit the next scene in here. I might edit the chapter later. But this was the best I could do and I was desperate to just post the next chapter after such a long wait.

Next up: I won't spoil it for you but there's something special next chapter and I have kind of given you a hint in this chapter. Something to do with our favourite couple... There'll be a scene with Slughorn and all that, but then something special, too. ;)

And yes, I'm pathetic with keeping up with the schedule. So I won't claim when there'll be another update. I have been on a bad writer's block for some time... But I'll try to bring myself to update soon. :)

Please leave a review. :)

kagomeLove2: Hi, thank you for reading! I'll answer your question here. Yup, Snape had been referring to Pansy's mother, who had been recently killed in one the summoning. There wasn't a scene on that.

Adreob: Hey, thanks for reading. You had asked if Draco had been there at the summoning? Well, no. Although most of the Death Eaters had been masked, Draco hadn't been there. As for Felix Felicis, that will make an appearance in the next chapter. Thank you for reminding me of that.