Author's note: Again, I'm so pleased to see that people are enjoying this story. I've gotten wonderful comments, many from musical readers! I, myself, play the harp, guitar, piano, mandolin, and violin, and I highly agree to the sensuality that is garnered from the usage of music in a writing piece. Also, dispite the mustache, I was highly taken with Mr. Rickman in "Truly, Madly, Deeply" (be it the saddest movie that was ever created), and I found the concept of him as a musician intriguiing and perfectly suited to a great deal of the characters he played, Snape included. I am often moved by what I read, and I find that there is so much talent in the people who write here, and so much depth to the characters already, that I can only express my extreme gratitude and goodwill towards those of you who are becoming involved in this story. Thank you.

Chapter Ten

Dumbledore, as it would seem, was choosing this rather innopertune time to discuss Severus's leaving time for the following day. After they had disentangeld themselves enough to face him, they stood, not a little ruffled, in front of the headmaster's smiling face. Niether was smiling back. Hermione's face was bright red.

"If you'll excuse me, headmaster, I should be getting to sleep anyway. Goodnight to you both."

Severus's mouth closed and opened as if to stop her, but the headmaster spoke first.

"Goodnight Miss Granger. I'd like to thank you both again for your performance the other night. Couldn't have been nicer. You get a good night's sleep, my dear. Wouldn't want to be groggy when you see off our Severus!"

Dumbledore's good cheer went unanswered as she nodded to him and shot a brief, meaningful look towards Severus. He felt his chest clench briefly in that exchange, so full of longing and sadness.

"So, Severus! I'll assume you're all packed then?"

Turning his black look back to the cheerful face in his fireplace, he spoke finally.

"I am. I have to congratulate you on your unfortunate timing, though. You interrupted a very serious practice session between myself and Miss Granger."

"Yes," said Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow, "I can see that...."

Severus tried to make his face a blank.

"Well, lad, I don't want to keep you up on the night before the big day. Do get some sleep, Severus. After all, without your health, you might not be able to muster up the strength to attend those practice sessions, let alone...any performances!"

Severus began to catch on that the headmaster was teasing him.

"If you've had your full, Sir, I'll retire, as per your advice." He was already turning away, when Dumbledore called out, "Goodnight, and sorry to interrupt your "practice session." Don't fret, though, you'll have plenty of time for that once you get back. Sleep well, Severus."

The headmaster's face was gone, then, and Severus was left alone, feeling an overwhelming frustration with his departed employer, with her for leaving so suddenly, and with himself for being unable to stop her.

Sighing with resignation, he pushed his arousal down within him to be dealt with later, and went to bed. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The following day dawned grey and cold, and Hermione found herself unwilling to rise from her bed. Were she to rise, she would surely be faced with the harsh fact that Severus was leaving today, and would be going to, again, face peril and adversity that she could do nothing to ease from him. But so it was with him.

The small group gathered at the gates; Dumbledore, Hermione, Minerva, and Severus. There was the customary wishes of good luck and triumph, the firm handshake from the head of gryffendor, the warm hug from Dumbledore, and then, they were alone.

Unable to speak, they each watched the progress of the two elderly teachers as they wound their way back to the castle. Hermione's arms were wrapped around herself, hugging herself for warmth and comfort. Severus was the first to break the silence.

"I suppose you'll bury yourself in work while I'm gone..."

"Yes, I think so."

"Do remember to eat and sleep once in a while, please?"

"I will..."

"And play... You should play more."

She turned to look at him. "I don't think I'll have it in me... You know I don't think you should go."

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "I know."

"For all you've done for the ministry, it's ridiculous for you to be forced into continuing their dirty work, especially without any sort of recognition."

"You know I never wanted anything of the sort."

"Yes. I know."

"It's odd that you know me better than anyone I have ever known in my life. You know me better than Dumbledore, even. I can't tell you how it's changed me, only that I'm glad for it."

"My presence, you mean?" She said, with a half smile.

"Among other things." he returned her wry smile with one of his own.

"I'll miss you. Not just the playing. You know what I mean."

"I do. I'll miss you, too. Just... please..." He paused, clearing his throat. "I mean to have this out in greater detail when I return. We'll talk, yes? A serious talk?"

"Yes. I think that would be quite beneficial. And, no, Severus, I won't forget anything. We'll pick right up, as long as you agree to it."

He smiled then, touching her arm lightly. "I would like nothing better, my dear."

"Kiss me, please."

And he did.

The warmth of the kiss belied the cold of the grey day, and their ardent near-confessions had built the tension to a near breaking point. It lasted, deepening and revealing, until they both shook slightly with the force of it. In the castle on the hill behind them, two figures stood in a tall window, watching them.

"There, you see?" said the headmaster, stroking the sleeping pheonix that perched on his shoulder.

"Yes, Albus. Quite a spectacle, really."

"Indeed, Minerva... We shouldn't invade their privacy by watching them, eh?..."

"You're right...It would be a breach in their trust towards us...."

They continued their surveillance through the window, their mouths turning up at the edges as they watched the couple kissing at the gates. They stayed at the window and watched them until they parted and he apparated, leaving her looking lost and lonely, standing with her head bowed and her fists clenched.

Still breathless and lightheaded, she had returned to the castle, unable to work, and had played mournful Debussy works for the remainder of the day. They echoed, strangely, around the castle, causing the students who remained to mope around, doleful expressions on their faces, until Dumbledore called for a cake-tasting in the great hall, where they gathered to escape her sorrow.