A/N... I thought I had set my options for anonymous reviews, but oops.. .went back and found it still checked. It's now open so if you haven't reviewed because I hadn't done so before, please do so now. I really need some input...lol. Thank you to those four of you that have taken the time out to do so already. It's keeping me going, as I wasn't sure if anyone would be interested in this story at all.

Chapter 4. Recriminations

Snape pulled back into the room with a last glare at Hermione. She smiled ruefully at the door. *Typical modern male* she thought bemusedly, as she opened it and entered the room.

Snape was standing at the desk, which was littered with homework assignments and test papers, all scattered aimlessly. It had been one of his pet peeves that he held against Professor Stewart, the current Professor of Potions and Magical Devices. The course had been expanded to include charms, amulets, and various jewelry as the previous Professors had been killed in the attack. Some had argued that one professor should not handle the load by herself... but Snape had, albeit reluctantly, found that, except for the untidiness of her personal space, she was able to bear it admirably.

He wondered at Lupin's insistance in allowing her to remain doing so, but it really wasn't his problem. After all, Lupin shouldn't really still be the Headmaster, in his opinion. He was, after all, a werewolf, and he had only been given the position temporarily after Dumbledore fell. It seemed, though, that the Ministry had all but forgotten his appointment, or had decided that since he hadn't killed any students in the fifteen years since then, he could be trusted. Snape had been in no position to take on the responsibility, and McGonagal had no desire to do so.

He turned to look at Hermione as she entered the room. He watched as she crossed the room, getting reacquainted with the Lab. He thought he detected a certain amount of, what was it, nostalgia? She seemed content to be at home, despite the consequences, but he knew she wasn't intending to stay. She glanced towards the particular bench where they used to sit together working and noticed the sadness cross her face.

Snape closed his eyes against the sight. Her melancholy was starting to infect him. He knew she didn't want to do this, but if it hadn't been for her, THIS would never have happened in the first place. It was all because of her blasted nosiness. Hers and her little troupe of troublemakers'.

As it had happened, the trio had been researching a way to negate the Killing Curse. Potter had managed to survive it merely being wrapped in his mother's love, or at least that's what Snape was given to understand. For her Senior year thesis, Hermione had decided that she was going to tackle the impossible and try to find a counterspell using this bit of information. She had bullied Potter and Weasley into helping her, as she had later done to try to find the cure for her counterspell.

It seems that the counterspell that they had researched would only work if the love was unconditional. Snape had not made friends easily, and certainly none among his students would even consider him as one. It only happened that year that Hermione had started finding just a little warmth in her heart for the cynical teacher. She had begun to put two and two together... and was coming up with something much more than four. Of all the things she had discovered about him, one thing kept coming up... Dumbledore's allowing him to teach. She knew the old but astute headmaster wasn't about to let someone who was so apparently evil be a Professor in a school full of children. It was another thing for Quirrel to come in and be a bumbling, stuttering wisp of a man and fool him, so Hermione felt there was so much more to Snape than was evident.

Although her logic could have blown up in her face, like the Muggles' dabbling of things arcane and magical, somehow she knew she was right. The more she watched Snape during the year, the more she realized that deeply... she liked him. She never imagined it could turn into something more. After all, he was a teacher, she a student, but even when he seemed to crack down hard on her that last year, she always was able to shrug it off, feeling that he really didn't mean it the way it sounded. Harry and Ron had both thought she was loony, but she felt that her grades improved somewhat when she was able to stop worrying about how evil and unfair the Potions Professor was.

Snape wandered over to the bench where they used to work and ran his hand over the surface of the table. Hermione moved up to stand beside him and placed the amulet on the table. He stared at it for a moment before turning to her.

"Is that all the component that is needed for this spell?" he asked incredulously. Hermione shook her head.

"No. I need to move a few benches and..." Her voice trailed off. He thought he had heard a slight tremble in her voice.

"And...?" he prompted.

"I need to draw a few things on the floor," she whispered.

His brow furrowed. "Excuse me? You mean like a Portal diagram?"

Hermione nodded slowly.

"Hermione," he said in a low voice, "You aren't going to summon a Demon to take me to Hell, are you?"

Suddenly, a grin flashed onto her face. "No, you silly goose. Hardly that!!!" The grin faded and grew a little sad. "Never that. I couldn't live with myself if I did that." At that, the corners of her mouth turned downwards again.

Snape didn't notice. He was looking at the charm again.

"Well, I should hope not. It's not like I haven't been in my own personal version of Hell for the past fifteen years," he said acidly. "Thanks to your damned research..." He peered at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that his words had taken effect, and immediately regretted them. Hermione's eyes swam with the tears she had held back for so long.

"You inconsiderate beast," she whispered angrily. "How can you stand there saying such cruel things to me when you know I've been trying so hard for so long to help you!"

"If you hadn't been so 'helpful' in the first place I wouldn't be in this situation!" he snapped without thinking about it.

"I should have let Voldemort kill you then!" she screamed at him, her face turned beet red in fury. "When he found out you had been spying on him, I should have just let you be punished! Then you would have died a sad, lonely man who never knew how anyone felt about him... just the way you would have liked it!"

At that, she picked up the amulet from the table and threw it at him. It bounced off his shoulder and he flinched as if it had stung him as much as Hermione's words had.