She looked at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. Asking her to deny that now was like asking her to deny that she lived. It was impossible. She had tried to fight this for seven years, and now she had failed. A single tear rolled down her cheek, splashing onto the hand which now held her wand. Snape's face was not triumphant as she had expected that it would be, instead it was oddly tender, softening the harsh lines which aged him beyond his years.
"I can't," her voice was broken and lost. He nodded his head in apparent satisfaction. Suddenly, frighteningly, her temper rose, eating away at her sorrow and replacing it with a flash of white heat. "Is that what you wanted me to say?" She demanded. "Are you happy now?"
The hand holding her wand rose threateningly, so it now pointed straight at him. She was left in no doubt of his reflexes as his own wand was already pointing straight at her. They stared each other down, the silence only broken by their harsh breathing.
"Do not think to use your magic here," he told her eventually. "You are already in more danger than you know." His eyes flicked between her face and her wand, wary and watchful. She had once been formidable, a match for anyone. It remained to be seen if she still was, and he was reluctant to test her power.
"I want the truth," she hissed at him. "And I want it now."
"There is nothing that I can tell you that you do not already know!" He flushed suddenly, dark hair swinging around his face. "You must return to Hogwarts, and you must do so tonight!"
"I will not!" They were shouting at each other out of pure frustration.
"Then they will find you, Hermione. Even if it means ripping this village apart and killing everybody in it, they will find you!"
"Who will?" She was astonished. Snape looked at her, and moved silently over to the window. Looking out, he beckoned her over, and she went and stood next to him. Outside in the lane, nothing moved, and she wondered what it was he wanted her to see.
"Look closer," he whispered into her ear, pointing to a bank of snow a little way up the lane. As Hermione watched, the something detached itself from the drift, and began to move stealthily down the lane.
"An invisibility cloak?" she murmured, horrified that someone in possession of such magic and unknown to her should be so close.
"Not a good one, or else you would not have seen it! Watch!" Snape hissed.
And before her frightened eyes, the cloak was removed to reveal a sleek white-blond head, followed by a long, lean, whipcord-thin body. Her breath caught in her throat.
"That's Draco Malfoy!" She squeaked.
"The Dark Lord's favourite boy," he said.
"Oh no." She knew what was coming next.
"And he's looking for you."
Hermione's knees would have given way had it not been for Snape then. She leaned weakly against him and his arms encircled her securely, holding her steady.
"The Dark Lord only knows that there is someone magical within the village. He does not yet know who, or even where they are. There is no need to be afraid. You are still protected by the magic. Malfoy cannot see you."
"But I can see him. What does he want with me? What do any of them want with me?" She turned her face into his robes, squeezing her eyes closed. The answer sat between them, waiting to be spoken. Hermione knew why. She had known why for seven years.
"What did they want with your parents?" He spoke in hushed tones. "You know what they call you, and you, who are one of the most powerful of our kind. They have been looking for you since the day you left, and now it would seem that they have found you. If they cannot use you for their own means, they will try to kill you. Dumbledore is not ignorant of this development. He wants you at Hogwarts where you can be properly protected."
There was a short silence while Snape watched Malfoy creep away, back towards the centre of the village. He breathed a long sigh of relief.
"I don't understand!" She whispered.
"I know," he soothed. "But you cannot stay here. It is no longer safe. The minute they detect the use of magic you will be discovered. You must come away."
"Merry Christmas, Hermione," she said dully. To her surprise, he laughed and the rich baritone sound filled the room. He looked down at her; her face was pale and sober.
"Apparate with me." He rich tones of his voice made it sound like a marriage proposal, and she blushed despite herself. "Please. And I will promise to keep you safe."
Hermione did not doubt that Severus could keep her safe. He was, after all, a fearsome wizard and she would trust him with her life if it ever became necessary. The question was, why would be offer to do such a thing? As she stood looking at him, she realized that she did not know the man stood before her at all. She thought that maybe she never had. The cruel and sarcastic potions master was not standing with her now. She blinked, and fixed him with a steady gaze.
"Why would you do that?" She asked him. A hand removed itself from her waist, and slid slowly up her side, along her collarbone and then traced the line of her jaw. Her breathing hitched, and she was suddenly far too aware of him for comfort. She could feel his heartbeat underneath her hands, it matched her own. His eyes burned into hers, bright with an emotion she did not recognize. Nervously, she backed slowly away from him until there was clear space between them. Snape stood perfectly still and observed her retreat with a roll of his eyes.
"You do not trust me."
It was a statement, not a question, and Hermione acknowledged it as such.
"No."
He coloured as if she had uttered a disgusting swear word, and shook his head.
"No." His lips pursed. "And what reason have I given you to do so? I don't blame you, Hermione."
"But you are angry." Another statement, this time from her.
"I suggest that you use your formerly admirable sense of logic," he swept it aside contemptuously. "If I wished to do you harm do you not think that I may have done it already? Do not presume Dumbledore to be an old fool in revealing your whereabouts to me. He trusts me, and so should you."
He had crossed the room and grasped her by the upper arms before she had the chance to react, and her wand tumbled from suddenly lifeless fingers. Giving her a little shake, he looked closely into her eyes.
"I do not want to hurt you!" He exclaimed hotly. "Believe me."
Hermione looked up at him helplessly, consulting her conscience and her instincts as she did so. Her reluctance to let him take her anywhere was, oddly, not borne of her mistrust of him. Her reluctance to return to Hogwarts was inexorably tied to the knowledge that she would never again wish to leave it.
"Can you force me to do this?" Her voice was low, and tinged with the sad acceptance of her fate.
"I cannot force you to do anything that you do not wish to do."
"If I leave with you now, can I come back?"
He arched an eyebrow at her, silently questioning why she would want to do so. She continued to look at him steadily until he made an exasperated noise and then abruptly shook his head.
"I don't think that that will be possible," he said. "If there are things here that you need, bring them with you."
Hermione looked sadly around the room, at seven years of her life. She could not think of one thing that she wanted to take with her. The shattered remains of her pride did not count.
"There is nothing," she whispered, close to tears.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure." As she struggled to compose herself, Hermione felt a sob rise in her throat. She dropped her head immediately, but was immediately grasped by the chin and made to look at him. He was looking at her with an expression full of such sad tenderness that for a second she forgot to breathe. He blinked slowly, as a cat might.
"If there were a way of making this easier for you . . ." he sighed. The hand grasping her chin slid around to tangle in the haphazard curls near the back of her head and held her steady.
"I know," Hermione tried desperately to tear her eyes away from his, but his dark gaze continued to hold her still.
". . .I would have found it by now." Snape's face leaned into hers, his whispered words like a caress against her skin. Hermione's eyes half closed as she leaned weakly against him.
"Professor Snape?" She asked quietly. His mouth was now hovering only inches from her own and she couldn't breathe properly. "Are you going to . . ."
Before she could complete the question, he had answered it for her.
His mouth covered hers gently in a kiss that Hermione would never have expected in a thousand years, and she gave a little gasp of surprise. Warm lips, slightly dry, pressed inquisitively against her own, shifting slightly to nuzzle against one corner of her mouth, and then the other. He was exerting only soft pressure that did not require a response, should she not wish to make one, but when Hermione kissed him back she was just as shocked as he was.
Suddenly she was pressed right up against him, returning the kiss eagerly, his hands were on her face, hers were in his hair and they were sharing something that went much further than either had intended to go. A dangerous passion sparked between them as they kissed each other, hard, only pulling away when they were both breathless.
Hermione kept her eyes closed, waiting for the loud thudding of her heart to slow and quieten, and for reality to creep back into the world. Gentle hands pressed her shoulders.
"Hermione," his voice was slightly hoarse. "Hermione, open your eyes. I need you to look at me."
Wincing, she did as she was told. Snape was looking at her solemnly, showing no signs of embarrassment at all. He titled his head very slightly.
"Hermione," he breathed, face rearranging itself into a familiar frown.
"Yes?" She whispered, opening her eyes properly.
"Stupefy."
The world went black.
TBC . . .