Whoa, people, thanks for the great reviews. I was so flattered, I sat down and wrote most of this chapter at once. Unfortunately, real life struck me down again, as my university courses have started again. Argh! I've spend the last days in an underground lab [alas, no dungeons with Sevvie :( ], trying desperately not to blow myself up. Honestly, I'm more of a Neville Longbottom than a Hermione Granger when it comes to organic chemistry. I have a history of killing beakers, and my insurance company hates me. I only got by because I was having your lovely reviews at the end of the day to build me up again.

Writing this chapter was chaotic, because Sevvie and Hermione kept talking at the same time, each urging me to write down their thoughts first and observe their inner monologues now, please. I think the turmoil in their heads is mirrored in this chapter, as I've been jumping through tenses and points of view quite wildly. Tell me if it was too confusing. And prepare for the finale, which is getting ever closer … (grinsevillyandrunsofftoexplodeanotherbeaker … *ka-pow*)

HunnySnowBunny: Sorry for the wait, but I don't believe in posting something that I haven't slept over. As for the saving part, I just couldn't resist ;) Loads of thanks for your great reviews.

Cassandra: Wow, I'm glad you read it through before sending me a howler. I could never have made them break up like that, but for tension's sake … I love your reviews, they really make my day :)

Ramos: *Sigh* Can't you just imagine it … *swoonsatthethoughtofkissingSevvie*

BadBoyLover: You've won the … erm … fanfic-cup? I bow to you.

Girly-Vamp: Here you go… enjoy!

Serenity Raye: Ah, so sorry, but I believed it was time for them to see each other as who they really are. And trust me, they will have to do a lot of working on their relationship as it is ;)

Clarity: Thank you, hope you'll enjoy the next bit.

Andrian: Hehe, maybe I should have incorporated them as well…

Trisana Moonstream Granger: Thank you soooo much. I'm so glad you like it.

Redundant Goddess: Now that was an evil laugh … do I sense a streak of malicious glee there? Thanks for the review.

Arwen Undomiel: I loved that ep too, it was too funny. And yes, Snape is great. I love writing him ;)

Patatita: Here you are. And thank you for the nice review.

Saintly Smile: End in sight. Not yet, though. But of course I won't leave them there, I'm too evil not to delight in their reactions, hehehe.

I hope I didn't miss anyone. Thank you to all who reviewed, you are great!!! And without further ado, I give you *dramaticdrumsolo* chapter eight!

*******************

Coping

I didn't know what I believed in when I had access to my personality – but right now I was praying desperately to whatever was listening that the imposing dark-haired professor was no relative of mine. I mean, apart from the fact that Harry Snape was an outrageous crime of a name, who would want an overgrown bat lusting after girls half his age as a father?

What was he thinking? He was teaching at this school! I wondered if witnessing his "display of affection" would leave me with some kind of neurotic behavioural aberrations once I was myself again.

Luckily, Ron was there to share my point of view.

"This is so disgusting", he whispered to me, gagging. "It's making my eyes hurt!"

"Let's get out!" I answered, feeling nauseous, too.

We left the antechamber, carefully checking for any murderous knights before entering the deserted hallway. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall followed us. I was surprised by that.

 "I did indeed believe getting out was a good idea, as some of us apparently craved some privacy." Professor Dumbledore offered by way of explanation. Come to think of it, had he actually looked at the pair of them with an amused twinkle in his eyes? He certainly could not be approving of … well, this thing they were doing? Something about it felt so wrong.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall shared my point of view as well (and something about this felt very wrong, too). "Really, Albus, do you think we should tolerate this kind of behaviour?" she whispered, loud enough for all to hear.

The headmaster did not reply to this, but turned to me instead. "Harry, you have already done some magic tonight. Do you remember the spell?"

When I nodded, he asked me about the circumstances of my using it, and what exactly it had done, and so I told him.

"A giant man with a boarhound you say? And he knew your names?"

"He even knew about Harry's powers", Ron stated, and beamed at me.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to ponder this. "Something tells me we have an excellent source of information there. Do you think you could find that hut again?"

Ron shrugged, "I was kind of … er … busy trying to stay alive when he dragged us there, but I guess we could try."

"Fabulous!" the old wizard exclaimed in a way that was definitely not old-wizardish.

"And what will you do about the armoury, should it intend to harass us again?" Professor McGonagall asked pointedly.

"We will have to proceed with caution, of course, but even in the case of another attack I believe we are effectively protected by the spell Harry remembered."

"And … ahem … er? … I mean, what about them?" I spluttered incoherently, embarrassment and a revolting stomach getting in the way of adept articulation. "We can't just leave them here, can we?"

I noticed that sparkle in the headmaster's eyes again, as he replied, "I believe they are effectively protected by the spell Miss Granger remembered."

So we trotted off past the Great Hall again and towards the front doors. Wherever the knights had gone to, they did not show up again.

The moment we passed the doors to the hall, we noticed the lights.

I wondered what that about, but-

~quidquid latet apparebit~

- then again, Hogwarts had always been a place full of mysteries. As long as Dumbledore and McGonagall were with us, I had at least nothing to fear. Maybe it was just Peeves.

… ?

What…?

I was myself again.

I stared at Ron, whose face registered the same shock I felt. "You're … Harry", he stammered. "And I'm … Ron Weasley. I have a lot of brothers. And … a sister. I had a rat once, but it turned out to be a dark wizard. Now I have an owl, which your godfather gave me when he went into hiding because he was a convicted mass murderer."

Yep, that about summoned up Ron's life. And most of mine, except for the living-with-horrible-Muggles-for-the-summer-because-humanitiy's-archnemesis-killed-my-parents-part.

Nobody spoke for a while, as we all took in the rush of memories into our brains. Suddenly, Dumbledore's chuckle broke the silence.

"My apologies, but I just got back the memory of hearing this truly hilarious joke. A hag, a leprechaun and a troll all go into a bar and the troll asks, do you want to see my …"

"Albus," McGonagall admonished (she didn't seem to have needed much time to recover from becoming herself once again. Maybe she was at ease with her past. Or a very controlled person), "Someone has been tampering with our minds. We need to find the culprit."

Still chuckling softly, Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, you are quite right, Minerva."

I glanced at Ron again. "What is this all about?"

"Dunno", he shrugged. "But at least nothing bad has happened."

Suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm. "Except…"

Then it hit me too. "Oh, Merlin, Ron…"

He nodded, "You have knocked out Fang. Hagrid will be furious."

I fought the urge to shake him. "Not that. I'm talking about Hermione!"

Ron's eyes grew even wider. Maybe they would pop out. "Oh my…", he whispered.

I nodded gravely. "Hermione's been kissing Snape."

Not even McGonagall's most audacious look could stop Ron from going into a tirade about the Potions Master which he surely would not have survived, had said Potions Master been present.

~*~

It had been a quick decision. A good one, I might add.

Once she had stopped the suit of armour from killing me and then went into a fit of hysterics expressing her concerns, I had a sudden flash of inspiration about what must have attracted me to her in the first place. Standing there, raging about my well-being, she no longer was just an unbearably curious source of annoyance. Instead, I was confronted with someone caring about me (I didn't know why this felt so strange. Maybe I was some kind of lone wolf … wait … wolf … that rang another bell …), who had furthermore just displayed rather impressive magical skills. And she was a beautiful young woman, once she had abandoned this helpless and forlorn look she had worn for most of the night. Apart from that, it wasn't as if she was a stranger to me. We probably had a history of more than just waking up on each other.

Plus I really wanted her to stop ranting.

So I kissed her.

I could tell she was surprised, because she flinched slightly. Instinctively, I pulled her towards me with determination. I was not going to let her get away so easily. To say that she recovered quickly would have been an understatement. To say that she was responsive would have been the mother of all understatements.

Then again, I knew that we did have some practise in this. We must have, because we were definitely good at it by now. I found myself wondering how far we had gone in the past. Had we … I mean, did I … well, did we?

Judging from my subjective point of view (and I'm referring to very personal sensations here) … well, as far as I was concerned, I could have eaten her on the spot. And I was registering no signs of objection from her. But with the eyes of my employer and colleague on us, I settled for pressing her to me and let my hands take an inventory. She was foreign territory after all, even though I had probably explored it quite thoroughly before.

I was not even really aware of the others slipping out of the room. I had no idea where they were going, but for all I cared they could have been heading straight into an oncoming train. I was occupied.

And somehow in the middle of it all, my left sleeve slipped up on my arm to reveal a skull on my skin, with what looked like a snake protruding from its mouth.

"You've got a tattoo?" Miss Granger asked, breaking the kiss but not the embrace. I scowled down at the skeleton head. It was disgusting.

"Apparently. Well, that's very … progressive of me."

"At least it's not a heart with an arrow and my name on it", she teased. Now there was a terrifying notion!

"At least, in that case, we would have known your first name," I teased her back, but she only smiled. Inching closer to my face again, she whispered,

"You can call me anything you like", before she kissed me again. The thought of pet names crept into my head, and I recoiled inwardly.

And suddenly …

~quidquid latet apparebit~

I realized that the head of Slytherin House was kissing the infamous Hermione Granger, Hogwarts resident know-it-all and Muggle-born Gryffindor.

And I recoiled outwardly as well.

~*~

I'm going to be expelled!

I'm going to be expelled just weeks before graduation, for killing a faculty member. Because after what has just happened, I can't possibly let Snape live, can I?

The way he's glaring at me, I'm in mortal danger myself.

Oh Godric!

If I knew how, I'd obliviate myself on the spot. But they don't teach that spell at Hogwarts, because students would constantly make their teachers forget about detentions and assigned homework.

I don't know why, but suddenly I was Hermione Granger again, and it's about the last person on earth I want to be. So if I could, I would gladly go back to my pre-enlightened state of mind and forget who I am for good.

He's still staring at me. Where my muffled groans could be heard only moments ago, there's now a silence one could cut with a knife. Why doesn't he say something? Anything?

Then I realize it. He's completely at a loss. This man, whose biting remarks have never once failed to hit home, doesn't know what to say. This discovery frightens me more than everything else.

He's taking another step backwards, and I force myself to look away from the shock imprinted on his face. A face that was very close to mine just seconds ago.

Oh, shut it! If I want to survive this with my sanity intact, I'll have to enter the stage of repression just about now. … … … Hmpf! Doesn't work!

And that's not the worst, is it? For there's this part of me – this very, very, very secluded, stupid, primeval, irresponsibly hedonistic part of me – which still marvels at the sensation of his lips on mine.

And wants to feel it again.

I said shut it! Wow, my mind definitely needs to be cleaned up. Too many things going on simultaneously. By now, I have identified two main voices in my head, one of which is screaming in agony because I kissed my evil potions professor, while the other one is musing along the lines of Wow, I never guessed he could kiss like that.

The turmoil in my head is interrupted by the Potion Master's voice. "Ahem …", he says. Well, I've come that far in my thought process as well, but thanks for mentioning it.

"I assume you have regained your memories as well?" he asks, with the politest sharp voice I have ever heard him use. He must be just as embarrassed as I am. No, wait, he kissed me first. He must be even more embarrassed than I am.

"I take it we have seriously misjudged the situation", he continues, proving once again that he is tremendously skilled when it comes to the art of understatement.

Quite frankly, I don't know what to say, and the neurons in my brain are still dazed by the overload of sensations I felt just a few moments ago. So I settle for nodding again. It's not that I don't trust my voice. It's just that I … don't trust my voice. It could betray me and say something like, "Oh, never mind, but could you kiss me again?" For that's the real crux – I feel bad because Professor Snape has kissed me.

But I feel worse because he stopped.

~*~

The bad thing is that I have been kissing a student. And not just any student, but Hermione Granger, the bookworm, the embodiment of smugness, the Gryffindor prize student.

The worse thing is that I've enjoyed it.

It is true that I have developed an interest in that girl over the last year. It was somehow inevitable, what with her standing out in class the way she did, brewing the most vicious potions with ease. I could not help but notice her. And I'm talking of really noticing her. One day, she was a clever girl, the next, a stunningly brilliant and beautiful young woman. After that, I have spent so much time staring at her working that I could conjure up an image of her face, tense with concentration, at any given time. I guess this image will be replaced by another one in fantasies to come. I can still see her, clinging to me, wanting me …

And here's the worst thing. Because whatever has prompted her passionate actions, it will be gone by now. She has been there, and is out of reach again. Leaving me with the bitter knowledge of what it could be like.

~*~

The bad thing is that I've been kissing what should be the most revolting man on the planet.

The really bad thing is that I'm not revolted. I'm half embarrassed, half dejected – and half ecstatic.

There is nothing I can say to defend myself. I have liked every single second of it. In the last few hours, I have come to see Severus Snape from a new perspective, and it somehow deprived him of his more frightful qualities.

My assessment of him was up to now based on my first impressions of him, which were quite disastrous. But I'm wondering now – if I had never let Harry talk me into suspecting him of trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, would I ever have learned to mistrust him? I certainly didn't fear him when we were exploring the castle this night. And if Ron had never hated him – would I ever have disliked him? Ok, maybe after his remark about my teeth. Right. I hate him.

And I don't. And that's the thing labelled "really, really bad". Because now I can't stop thinking about him, and what it is like to be in his arms. Which is exactly where a rampant fraction of my brain is planning on placing myself again.

~*~

What does one say in a situation like this?

I have toyed with the idea of deducing several thousand house points from her for inappropriate behaviour, but I doubt she would have taken that silently. And silence is the only thing standing between me and utter humiliation right now.

So I try to make her understand this simple fact.

"Miss Granger, you are aware of the precarious situation this affair leaves me in?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. Oh. Bad choice of words on my part. Now that's a first. "I mean, it's not an affair. Well, it is, but we're not having one. You're getting the point, aren't you?" I'm getting impatient.

"As I've said before, there's no need to be so condescending. After all, I wasn't the one who started this," she reminds me. Well, that won't go unrewarded.

"No, and neither were you the one to end it," I snap, "Now, I believe we agree on keeping this … business … shrouded?"

"Like this was a snogging session one would brag about. I can just see myself discussing the matter with Lavender: Yeah, I've had Professor Snape's tongue in my mouth and it really, really turned me on," she snorts (being the fast learner that she is, she has already mastered the technique of derisive snorting from just spending some quality time with a Slytherin).

"So we are agreed on this?" I repeat harshly.

She nods, and I feel about as relieved as I was when got back the memory of not being Potter's father. "We should be finding the others, then, and settle this matter. Someone will have hell to pay for this. And you can tell Potter and Weasley to keep their mouths shut if they value their lives."

I really should obliviate them, but I know Dumbledore will oppose to this. Sometimes I hate being in his debt … no, wait, I always resent being in his debt.

I sweep around, making sure that I look impressive and intimidating, and head for the door.

And I stop.

And turn around.

"Did you just say and it really, really turned me on?"