Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, only this plot. JK Rowling owns all.

Chapter 2: The Letter

Two days later, Hermione sat at her table in Potions once again. The potion they were to prepare today was even more complicated than the last. Snape had already assigned them a two-foot long paper on the properties and functions of the potion because Neville Longbottom had melted his cauldron.

'I'll never understand how in the name of Merlin he always manages to melt the bottoms of his cauldrons out before we're five minutes into the potion." Hermione was disgusted with Neville. Oh, she'd try to help him, but it never did any good, so she was beginning to wonder, why bother? Helping him was one of the main reasons she was always in trouble in this class. Snape didn't like students conversing in his class, let alone helping each other. Hermione had never understood that rule.

She glanced over at Harry sitting beside Neville. He was trying to concentrate on his own potion while watching Neville so the potion wouldn't blow up on him or worse. She turned to Ron who was beside her at their table. He was fumbling around with his instructions, probably trying to figure out where he had gone wrong since his potions was now a lime green color instead of the proper scarlet red. Hermione just watched and prayed that it wouldn't explode.

Her potion was a perfect crimson, as usual. She was rather good at potions, although her professor didn't seem to notice. She wondered what her schooldays would have been like in Potions if he had noticed and appreciated someone who could brew potions almost as well as he. It was only a fantasy though. He would never accept that she was a good student unless somehow she could persuade him to give her a chance. 'That'll never happen. Nope. Not in a million years.' She giggled aloud at her thoughts.

Suddenly Snape whirled in front of her with a look that clearly said he was displeased. "What, may I ask, is so funny about this assignment, Miss Granger? This is twice in one week that I have had to call you down. Maybe we should make it two detentions, what do you think? Five o'clock tonight and Friday night should do it, don't you think? Is that acceptable for you?"

"Y-yes sir, Professor S-snape. I'm sorry, nothing is funny about the assignment, sir." Hermione stuttered. She was frightened of the mere idea of spending two nights in a row for three hours at a time with him.

"Get back to work, Miss Granger." With that he stormed to the opposite side of the room. From there he could watch her without anyone noticing because they would assume that he was simply watching the class work. This idea pleased him and he stood rooted to the spot for the rest of the class. When the bell rang and they gathered their bags, he made sure to remind her not to be late for detention that night.

In the hallway

"What have I done to deserve TWO detentions with Snape? That's three in one week. It has to be a record." Hermione vented her anger to her two best friends.

"It's not a record. Trust me. I once had five." Harry assured her. "They weren't all from Snape. It was Umbridge, remember? And of course, Fred and George have had more than that."

"Yes, well, at least he doesn't make me do lines that involve a pen whose ink is the writer's own blood." They all remembered Harry's many detentions with Umbridge in fifth year. It had been horrible. Harry had literally etched the words into the back of his hand until it scarred. Thank Merlin she hadn't lasted too long.

"What do you think he'll have you do tonight?" Ron always loved to guess at what torments may await in detention as long as it wasn't his detention.

"Ron, I don't even want to think about it okay? I'll find out when I get there." Hermione gave him an exasperated look and marched down the hall to the Head Boy and Girl's common room.

Later that night outside Snape's office

Hermione stood outside Snape's office gathering up the courage to knock on the door. As she raised her hand she heard muttering from the other side of the door. She was not usually an eavesdropper, but she was very curious about what her professor was discussing and with whom so she leaned her ear carefully to the door and listened.

"I can't tell her... I just can't. She'd never understand... I'd probably scare the poor child to death... But I must stop thinking of her as a child. She hasn't been a child in the wizarding world for nearly two years... But still we are twenty years apart... Maybe I should make my feelings known to her tonight... If she doesn't accept, I'll just have to dismiss her and waive tomorrow night's detention as well... Okay, I'm going to do it. There's only one way and it'll have to be now."

He was talking to himself. Professor Severus Snape, feared Potions Master, Slytherin Head of House and spy for the Order, was having a conversation with himself about, what was it? Oh some girl he fancied. Hermione wondered who it was, then with a gasp, she recalled his words. 'hasn't been a child for two years.', 'twenty years apart.', 'feelings...tonight.', 'waive tomorrow night's detention'. Then it all began to come together...

"Oh Merlin! He's talking about ME! He has feelings for ME! Oh! What am I going to do?" Before she could think of a solution to her plight, the door she was standing beside opened and Professor Snape called out to her to come in to the office. 'Oh.... this is not good. Shit!', she thought as she willed her leaden feet to move and, after what seemed to be an eternity, she was inside the room and had sat down in a chair across from his desk.

"Good evening Miss Granger. Are you ready to begin your detention?"

"Good evening... Professor." Hermione didn't trust her voice to say any more. She was too afraid of what he was going to say.

He waved his wand once again at the table in the corner, but this time a single piece of parchment appeared. No quill, no ink. 'What is going on?' Hermione thought anxiously. She hurried to the table to sit and picked up the parchment. It was a letter to her in Snape's handwriting. This made her heart race and she looked up at him questioningly.

"Go on, Miss Granger. Read it. I'll leave you to yourself. I'll come back in an hour for your answer. Please take your time." Without waiting for an answer, he walked out the door and she turned back to the paper and began to read:

Dear Miss Granger,

For quite some time now, I have realized that I no longer think of you as a student. You are a bright young woman and a superb witch, even if you are muggleborn. Your first few years here, I did everything in my power to frighten you and to make you think that I was a horrible person as I have done with most students. Now I realize how big a mistake I have made. I fear that I have ruined your impression of me so badly that I can never make amends. However, I sincerely hope that my efforts against the Dark Lord have erased some of those bad thoughts of me.

Yet, I doubt that my behavior as of late toward you has been justified by that. I would like very much to make amends for my indisgressions now. And to explain my sudden change of attitude toward you.

I believe it began at the very end of last term. You had done so well on your OWLs, even in my class, that you were certain I would place you in my NEWT level Potions class. However, when I was reluctant to do so, you stood your ground and presented your case very well. I was so impressed by your frankness that I placed you in the class. Now, I see that it was quite possibly the stupidest thing I have ever done. Not that you are not qualified. You are beyond a doubt one of the top students in the class. It is my fault, my problem. You see, Hermione, I am becoming attracted to you more with each passing day.

I know this must come as a complete shock, and don't feel obligated to stay if my interest is unwelcome. I understand. I also know that I am twenty years your senior, but in our world it isn't all that much. If my feelings are completely repulsive and unwanted, please do not stay. Leave now and I will know your decision. You will not hurt me, but please do not mention this again. If there is even a small chance that we can talk about this (which I most sincerely doubt), please stay. I will return in one hour. Please take the remaining time to think it over.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape

"Oh My God. Snape?" Hermione's mind was whirling with the contents of the letter. She didn't know how to react. What was she going to tell him? That her dreams were coming true? That she was attracted to him too? Or should she deny her affections and his and walk out now when she had the chance? Before she could make up her mind, the hour had passed and Severus stepped back into the room. His eyes widened, no doubt at the shock of seeing her sitting where he had left her.

She turned to face him in the chair. "Well, Miss Granger. By your expression I take it that you have finished the letter and made your decision."

Then she did what neither of them had expected. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own. In seconds, she had stood, gathered her things, and hurried out the door, slamming it behind her.

She tore through the halls of the castle, not stopping until she had reached the Head Boy's and Girl's rooms. She entered the commonroom at a dead run and promptly slipped on a Persian rug, crashing head-first into the coffee table. She tried to sit up, but was too dizzy and fell backwards into someone's arms.

Draco's POV

"Damn. What happened to you Granger?" Draco Malfoy's lazy drawl floated into her head. He was holding her so close that she could feel his breath on her ear, and it was intoxicating. His smooth voice filled her ear with questions that she could not answer, she wasn't concious enough for that. He eased her onto the sofa and placed her head gently in his lap. His hands made their way to her throat where he felt for her pulse, then his head moved to her mouth to check her breathing. Satisfied that she would be alright and was only dizzy, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into his room. He laid her on his bed and removed her robes, gasping when he saw she wore only undergarments beneath them. He quickly refastened the robes and placed a blanket over her.

He gathered up a blanket and pillow, transfigured a pillow into a large cushion, and laid down to sleep. But he could not close his eyes. His mind kept wandering to Hermione and what might have happened to make her so frightened. Surely she had been scared. Why else would she have been running so fast? Then his thoughts turned to the way he had found her under her robes. No other clothing but her satiny red bra and matching bikinis. He hadn't known she was so... hell, he didn't know what to call her. Not anymore. In first year she had been an annoying know-it-all, then she'd been a mudblood, then suddenly they were Head Boy and Girl, sharing what amounted to a small apartment, and being forced to be nice to each other.

But when had all the taunting and name-calling stopped? When had they begun to see their roles as a priveledge, not a punishment? When had they forgotten to be 'forced' to be only civil to one another and begun to be real friends? They never really confided in each other, but they did talk. They rarely insulted one another anymore, and even when they did, it was teasing, all in good fun. Their relationship had gone through such a complete change that the past years had become as a dream to him.

And now? What were these strange things he was thinking about her? Lust? Oh, yes. He lusted after her. She was beautiful and confidant and talented. He wondered at the revelation that he just might fancy Hermione a little. Well, okay, maybe alot.

'Nothing can come of it. She's a muggle-born, you're a pure-blood, it will never happen. But then, blood lines have never been a problem for me, only my father, the wretched git.' As his mind continued to whirl with these unexpected thoughts, Draco soon drifted into a deep slumber.

I don't really know about this chapter. Let me know what you think. I'm working on a third chapter, so I hope I can update soon.