Dawn sat cross-legged in Snape's office watching him pace and rant. Evidently when he said he wanted to talk it meant he ranted while she listened; "Miss Summers you are not qualified and it would seem

Dawn gave a 'Slayer worthy' eye role. "I didn't know you cared so much." she replied sarcastically although her expression remained ever cheerful.

For a second the potions Master appeared to lose the power to speak but it returned almost immediately, "How dare you talk to me in that fashion, this is not your world."

Dawn's expression was ever-calm but her insides jumped; 'oh god he knows!' Professor Snape had finished yelling and was staring at her as if in challenge now.

Dawn rose slowly from the chair, "You think I'm afraid of you Snape? And no I am not a qualified Witch just overly experienced in these matters and those even more terrible. I do not wish to make enemies and neither should you."

The words were spoken firmly but she hadn't even raised her voice. She continued to slowly pace across the room towards him, "I Know you are suffering Severus, I feel it. Surely you do not wish to add to that suffering?" Dawn was standing right in front of him now; she slowly placed her palm on his chest. He didn't resist.

He couldn't. A delicious fog had fallen over Snape. He could hardly remember what he had been saying or even where he was.

She was smiling softly and her eyes glistened. "You don't want me to be your enemy, do you Severus?"

Snape struggled to free himself from his trance but something held him, the warm, soft voice that spoke his given name felt … right. Why was he angry? What was there to be angry about?

Dawn tenthly reached up with both hands placing them on either side of his face. She gently traced the line of his cheekbones.

"No." the whispered reply came. "No." she answered before slowly leaning forward and softly kissing him.

Hermione was on her way to the library. As she hurried down the hall she saw Dawn leaving Snape's office ahead of her. Thinking nothing of it she forgot about it, for the time-being.

As Dawn lay on her bed that night her thoughts were still swirling round her head. It was her nature to heal those who could not heal themselves but why had she kissed him? Sympathy?

She had felt pain in Snape. She had taken some of it away but he would have to do the rest himself.