"Mommy, I fear I'll never be properly gothic."

Author's Note: Life is short. When you wake up in the morning, choose to make the best of it. You know how you are always thinking "what if…" and wondering what would happen if you had done this or that when you were younger, when you were freer, when you were foolish? Well only in ten years will you be able to realize how foolish you are now. Take chances, love, live, do everything. Wear black if you damn well want to, scream, make faces, act im/mature, sexy (not slutty), and have self-esteem. Impress your teachers and your parents. The more leverage with them, the more leverage on your catapult out of where you don't want to be.

This isn't cheesy, ok, maybe it is a bit cheesy, but bear with me. We all have our moments. We all need to get up off of our asses and do something for the world. You know your history book? Well, aim to be part of that in 100 years. But make sure it is for something good, not for blowing up another country, or sucking off the President… and remember to recycle! Short chapter this time. Short but VERY significant. Enjoy

When Molly Weasley returned to Hermione's hospital room to check up on her one last time before returning home for the night she stopped just outside the door, her eyes resting on a sight the likes of which she never thought she would see.

Hermione was not alone. Severus Snape had arrived presumably to bring her belongings, which now lay forgotten and scattered around an open trunk, which very much looked as if it had been thrown on the floor. Professor Snape was asleep, his torso draped over Hermione's, his head on her chest. Hermione was laying down, not noticing Molly at first, eyes barely open in a vacant stare, her fingers gently caressing the Professor's neck and shoulders, and sliding gently through his raven-black hair. When Hermione glanced up and saw Molly, she almost rose, but Molly gave her a knowing smile and she settled again, smiling back softly, the dark circles under her eyes momentarily vanishing in the warmth of Molly's presence and understanding.

Quietly Molly picked up Hermione's belongings and replaced them neatly into her trunk, before slowly gliding out the door and down the hall, back to the Burrow.

When Snape awoke the next morning it was to see the face of Hermione staring back at him. He wondered in the foggy moments of waking dream if that's all she was, a dream, until he felt her breath on his face. He noticed he was laying down, how, he couldn't remember. Hermione seemed to notice this.

"The nurse put you on the other bed."

Indeed, Snape was lying on his own bed, which was moved parallel to Hermione's. Sitting up, he rubbed his forehead with his hands, and smoothed his tousled hair. How had he slept through that?

Hermione had already sat up and was already starting to get fidgety Snape could see. She seemed to be rummaging around, looking for her wand.

Snape frowned and stood, snatching the wand from the bedside table before she could take it.

"They took it away from you yesterday. You are too weak to do any kind of magic."

"I just need to summon a book. It isn't that big of a deal…" Hermione brushed off Snape's reprimand, complete with deadly tone, and reached towards Snape and the wand, only to be stopped by Snape's cold grip on her wrist.

" I suggest you don't try Hermione. There is no need for you to add to your list of asinine…"

At this point Snape was interrupted by a nurse, whom he recognized as the one at the front desk the night before, bustling in with a breakfast tray for Hermione. One look at Snape's angry face, and she dropped the tray on a nearby table with a squeak and hurried off. Snape was grateful, he had almost said something he knew he would regret later. Obviously Hermione agreed, and she hastily changed the subject.

"What did you do to her?"

Snape smirked and Hermione had a good idea.

"She's a new nurse you know."

Snape smirked grew even wider.

"Well then, she'll have to learn to deal with people like me won't she?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment.

"There aren't many people like you Severus."

In that perfect moment, Snape had just begun to lean forward, could practically taste her lips on his own when, with perfect timing as always, the door burst open. Harry Potter walked in immediately after giving Snape a quick glance. His hair was more messy than usual, and he looked severely hung over. Not surprising, if his behavior last night was any evidence to how much he had been drinking.

"Hermione! I'm so sorry I didn't stay with you last night, it's just that I was in no state to be roaming around a hospital. Mrs. Weasley convinced me of that."

He grabbed Hermione's hand, and smoothed her bushy halo of hair.

"Ron left this morning with Julie. He couldn't decide whether or not to come. He wanted to come…

Hermione smiled.

"Harry, do you really think I would let Ron hear the end of it if he delayed his honeymoon for me?"

Harry nodded meekly and Hermione giggled.

Well I'm finished then… Snape thought bitterly to himself as Harry touched Hermione's hair once again.

Snape stood and pulled on his cloak.

Hermione looked up.

"Severus, stay and have something to eat."

Stay… and have to watch you and your best friend flirt like sixth years. No.

"No. I'm leaving. Mr. Potter," he nodded, "Hermione."

Hermione scowled as she watched Snape exit the room.

Harry whistled.

"Wow, someone's in a hurry," Harry joked, but when he saw the look on Hermione's face he hastily scrambled to revive the situation.

"I was thinking last night Hermione."

Hermione reverted her attention back to Harry enough to answer.

"I thought you were too drunk to do anything but stumble gracelessly on the dance floor, but do go on."

She laughed but was quickly quieted when she noticed that Harry's demeanor had suddenly grown serious. Suddenly she became aware of his hand around hers, warm and sweaty, but gripping her own firmly. Nervous, but he still sure.

Oh shit.

"Hermione, last night I realized how much I care about you and Ron, but especially you.. I feel like I could've lost you forever. You could've died last night."

"I didn't die Harry."

But I almost did. Hermione shivered as Harry's eyes pierced her own.

"But you could have… Hermione, I can't lose you now. There is so much I haven't told you, so many things I haven't done with you yet."

Backtrack…backtrack!!! "Harry, that movie you wanted to see just came out! We still have plenty of time to go to it."

"No." Harry almost choked, his voice was so thick with emotion, almost reverent. "Hermione, you don't understand. I was in so much panic. I was so afraid. Afraid that I would have to go to the movie theater with Ron."

It took a few moments for Hermione to register what Harry had said. Meanwhile, Harry erupted into boyish peals of laughter, doubling over and gasping for air. All Hermione could do was stare. Finally she spoke.

"You've been spending too much time with Fred and George you stupid git. I'm too weak for this kind of teasing. You had better go home."

"Oh Hermione, you totally feel for it. I mean, I love you and everything, but God help you if something happens and it forces me to do ANYTHING like going to see a muggle movie with Ron."

"Yeah, yeah, very funny." Hermione frowned playfully. "You're just lucky that they've taken away my wand. Now get out of my room. I need bed rest. I've read somewhere that the body heals fastest during sleep and that…"

"Whoa now Mione! I'm leaving. No need to go all book-smart on me."

With a quick kiss on the cheek, Harry conjured a vase of flowers for Hermione's bedside table and left.

Hermione felt alone. But it wasn't the hollow sort of alone, where your throat tightens, and your jaw clenches, and every noise or ray of light is an intrusion on your solitude. Feeling the breeze from the open window she noticed that her toes were cold. She raised herself to a sitting position, and pulled her legs close wrapping them around each other, and letting her feet be warmed by her thighs.

Placing her hands in her lap she sighed and studied them.

These hands. My hands.

They had done so much.

Write, turn pages, comb hair, pick flowers,cast spells… to hurt…

To heal…

To caress…

To embrace…

It's nice how when you relax your hand it curves inward, like your holding someone else's. And it could be the hand of whoever you want it to be.

For no apparent reason Hermione though of Dean, and her eyes filled with tears. She was still tired, and that's why I am so emotional.

But in her heart Hermione knew that this wasn't the truth. Her life felt unsure, and without direction when she was alone. And as much as she tried to deny it, without her Source, she was weak. She only felt stronger, and more in control when Severus was around.

But it's so dangerous when he is here with me. I almost died when he left me last night. My heart broke in my chest.

Shattered seemed like a more appropriate word.

I literally can't live without him, because I love him.

Hermione's veins pulsed with passion and her cheeks flushed just thinking the word. But at the same time she felt the deepest darkest fear inside her heart, long dead, take root once again.

Severus could kill me.

This was such an enormous risk that Hermione had taken, falling in love. But hadn't she always been in love?

She balled up her fists and drew blood from her palms.

Severus couldn't fall out of love with her, or she would die.

How disgustingly ironic that in freeing him from one prison of darkness, I've imprisoned him in another. A prison of love, but a prison no less.

Hermione knew that no matter if he loved her or not, Hermione's death at Severus' own hand would no doubt set him once again upon an icy, barren path of self destruction.

Too full to exist, Hermione collapsed back onto her bed.

Dean, I wish you were here. I need you to be here.

And suddenly, he was there. In the dented, sleep-rumpled pillow that Hermione huddled up against. Hermione would have sworn to anyone, as she drifted off to sleep, that Dean was there, holding her empty hand.

Snape was tired, very tired. It had taken a lot of willpower and energy to go to Dumbledore and Minerva to apologize. And it had taken a lot of hard alcohol to forget that he'd done it.

He stripped off his dress robes and collapsed into bed without redressing. It wasn't a warm night, but the numbing liquor took care of that.

Shit, I have work tomorrow. Oh well, Hermione will have to get Potter to bring her to Hogwarts. Not that I mind or anything. I think Potter will though, when he has to watch me snog her senseless when she arrives.

Making a suggestive growling noise, Snape pulled the sheets up over his body, smirking.

I'm very tired… good thing I don't have night duty tonight. Wow, look at the candle!

So Snape looked at the candle flame burning brilliantly, so distracted, so intoxicated, so tired… that he didn't even notice when his vision began to grow dark.

And he wasn't closing his eyes.