Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the HP universe.

A/N: Finally, here's the complete chappie 17. It was way too long, I know. I just hope you like it. I will be leaving Hong Kong to Hawaii in 11 days time. I am so excited! Wish me a good trip!

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I know there are bunches of people that I'd left out... please know that you are all in my heart! Thank you! I love you all!

----------

Severus halted at the corner. It was a long, straight, brightly-lit corridor to the Hospital Wing, there was no way to stick to the shadows now.

Despite what Potter said, he felt he ought to visit her in the Hospital Wing- what else was he supposed to do anyway? He peeked out from his hiding place again. The corridor seemed deserted enough. Robes swishing behind, he started towards the infirmary. Each step felt heavier to him. What should he say to her? What would she say? What if- what if she started crying again?

He did not notice that his breaths were coming out short and rough. The corridor suddenly shortened, and before he knew it, he had reached the door. He stared at it, his mind blank. Should he, or should he not? His hands became clammy than ever. The brass knob glistened challengingly.

By some miracle, time solved the dilemma for him. Before he had time to bolt, the door had swung open from the inside. Out came Longbottom and the youngest Weasley.

"- she should have at least taken- you!"

He barely had time to raise an eyebrow at their holding hands. Ginny Weasley made a movement but was pulled back by Longbottom. At least the boy had the courtesy to nod.

"Manners, Miss Weasley. Five points," he drawled easily, hiding his agitation.

"Sod the points," the redhead replied impatiently. "What are you doing here?"

"Ginny," Longbottom tugged the girl's sleeve gently but resolutely. For once she quieted and stood back.

"I roam the castle as I desire, and my purposes are of no concern to you," he said coldly. This was why he disliked Griffindors. They were all the same rude, reckless, tactless donkey-brains.

"Not if you're disturbing Hermione!" She reached for her wand.

"Ginny!"

Severus had to admire the boy for his reflexes. When he was reaching for his own wand, Longbottom had pulled Weasley back, hard, and encircled her completely. He could see her ears glowing in a color that rivaled her hair's.

"Nev-"

Another thing Severus had to marvel at was that the boy did not seem to mind a struggling girl in his arms very much. He himself could never do that in front of others. But then, if it was Hermione...

Oh, get a grip, he mentally ordered himself and focused on Longbottom again.

"Hermione's feeling much better these two days," he was saying, "but I'm afraid she's not up to it right now. Seeing you, I mean."

"But none of your visits upset her? Not even her brother's?" Severus replied angrily, and threw the young Weasley a glare.

"Please refrain from seeing her just now," the younger wizard said relentlessly and, with a still struggling Ginny in arms, left.

----------

Fly me to the moon,

And let me play among the stars;

Let me see what spring

Is like on Jupiter and Mars.

In other words, hold my hand-

In other words, darling kiss me-

¡

Hermione sat up in her bed. The infirmary was empty but for herself, she was alone. Moonlight poured from the windows, making stretched squares of light on the floor. She looked around for the source of disturbance that had waken her. Unlike previous nights, when she had either taken the Dreamless Sleep Potion and slept until noon or jerked out of sleep by nightmares, she woke up tonight in a relatively calm state.

Something had waken her up, a mellow, gentle push. She listened.

And there came the sound again.

It was a teeny sound, but it was very clear to her ears, as if a bee was beating its wings next to her, as if every note was played straight into her mind. Where did it come from? Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was not around, she slipped out of her sheets and into her slippers, then went out of the room.

The sound did not grow much louder outside the Hospital Wing, but it grew clearer. She now recognized it to be a tune, a melancholy, heart-breaking one at that. Her heart gave an involuntary wrench hearing it.

What is that?

Each note touched a cord within her, and soon her steps were falling into the rhythm of the tune. She trembled in the night's breeze. Or maybe she was trembling to the tune. She did not know which. She found herself being tugged forwards by the music. Flight after flight of stairs she climbed, room after room she passed, but she hardly noticed her fatigue, for her feet seemed to be walking on their own accord, pulled forwards by the music.

Where is it coming from?

It became an overwhelmingly sad song. Hermione walked, then skipped, then half-ran, not even worried about being caught out of bed. The sound of her flat slippers tapping on the floor echoed in the empty castle, which had never seemed this vast before. She ran, stopping occasionally, traced the floating notes, and went off again. Eventually she reached the Astronomy Tower. She sincerely hoped that it was not occupied. Luckily, when she pushed open the wooden door, the circular chamber was empty, not a pair of love-bird in sight.

Up here the melody was even clearer. She shivered in her thin silk robe and looked around. Then she saw it. Charmed to be imperceptible, a tiny door stood at her left. She would not have noticed it if she was not looking for it. She pushed it open and immediately a gust of icy wind rushed in. She shivered again and stepped onto the spiral stairs outside. With each step up, she felt the tone binding her tighter and tighter, the lump in her throat growing bigger and bigger...

Finally, she climbed onto the top of the stairs. Frightened of height, she dared not look down and stared ahead instead. On the top of the Astronomy Tower, two steps away from her, was a small veranda that could barely accommodate two persons.

And there, sat Severus.

----------

He had heard someone coming, but he played on. He did not give a damn who caught him in this state, and if anything else failed, he could still hex the unfortunate intruder into oblivion.

Pad. Pad. Pad. The muffled footsteps found their way up the concealed stairs and grew closer. He did not cease playing. There would be plenty of time to reach for his wand.

At last, the footsteps stopped as they reached the top. He sighed inwardly, looked up, and froze.

He was looking into a pair of eyes. The pair of eyes. Familiar, warm, hazel. He had dreamt of them every night. He had dreamt of her every night. And there she stood, in her fluttering white robe and frizzy hair, glowing like a hallucination.

No, not a hallucination, an angel. Glowing like an angel.

"You," she whispered.

He did not reply. Surreal, surreal... but it was real. She was real. The realization dawned upon him suddenly.

"What are you doing here in that?" He barked, breaking the spell, and grabbed her arm. With a mighty tug, he pulled her into his arms and threw his coat around her.

"Oww," She complained softly, but snuggled closer into his chest. He tightened his arms. Merlin's blasted cauldron, she felt much skinnier than before. Unable to control himself, he lowered his head into her hair and took a deep breath of her sweet smell of shampoo. They sat like this in silence for ten minutes, lost in each other's presence and did not care. The moon showered its godly silver over them, and the millions of stars twinkled.

"How can you walk around in the night without a scarf or a coat on?" He demanded, breaking the silence. He was afraid that she would move away, and encircled her closer. Fortunately, she seemed quite contented to be where she was.

"You tricked me," she said with her head on his shoulder, "again."

"I did not," He denied a little too sharp.

"Tricked me up here," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Tricked me into seeing you, that's what you did."

"Miss Granger-"

"And yet, I still fell for it," she said serenely.

Bloody hell, she had always had a way of twisting his insides. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her a little further, forcing her to look straight at him. "Look- no, look here," he toke out a small silver object resembling a harmonica from his robes. It shone innocently on his large palm.

"What's this?" Momentarily caught up in its beauty and forgetting her misery, she regarded it with interest.

"This," tapping the instrument lightly, he said, "is a Feelycon."

"What's it do?"

He put it up to his lips, and a tune began pouring out of the small instrument. The music was lucid, the notes quivered in midair and disappeared into the night. Again the feeling of being tied to the tune filled Hermione's chest.

¡

Fill my heart with song,

And let me sing forever more;

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore.

In other words, please be true-

In other words, I love you-

"Did you hear that?" He asked when he finished.

"Of course I did, it's beautiful."

"Feelycon is more or less like a wand- while the latter channels our magical power, Feelycon channels our emotions into music. And only... soul mates... can hear each other's emotions."

She fell silent after that, and after a while, asked, "have anyone else heard your, erm, emotions?"

"Yes," he smiled at her subtle jealousy, and looked out onto the grounds. His eyes focused somewhere above the swaying trees and darkened. "Yes, there was someone else who could hear them."

She sat up straighter. Someone else. Who someone else?

"My parents didn't want me," he began matter-of-factly. "Especially my father. He was contented to have my brother, and I was an accident to him. He seldom spanked me or scolded me- he simply acted as though I didn't exist. So I practiced Dark Arts and followed everything my brother did at a very young age."

"Your family-"

"An ancient, pure-blood family," he confirmed. "The Snapes were known for their potions and darkness. We were rumored to have black blood. Anyway, my father encouraged the using and practicing of Dark Arts at home. So in an attempt to win his approval, I tried to master every Dark spell I could lay my hands on. But of course I never did. Gain his approval, I mean.

"I was sorted into Slytherin, and stayed in Hogwarts for seven whole years, returning home only in summer. It was in my sixth year that I met this girl in Ravenclaw. She-"

"What's her name?" She interrupted him.

"Vera Malfoy."

She gasped at the last name. He nodded.

"She was Lucius' youngest cousin. In any case, we met in our sixth year, and we- I- had the happiest time of my life. She was very cold to everyone else, and I did not know what caused her to warm for me. She was very quick-witted, and-"

"Was she pretty?" She asked with a pout.

"Very," he replied, oblivious to the sudden blaze in her eyes. "She used to call me 'ugly git' when we bantered, and I would tease her back. We seldom quarrel, though. Those were very happy times..." his voice trailed off thoughtfully.

Noticing something, she turned slightly and watched him.

Taking a deep breath, Severus struggled to get the next line out. "Then, she left."

"Left?" Hermione asked, choking slightly. "To where?"

"To Seus, my brother," he said emotionlessly. "They were married in my seventh year. I joined the Death Eaters after that." He mentioned his former job- which Hermione had been avoiding to do- with an offhanded tone. He waited for her to answer, but she did not say anything. He turned in enquiry, and was flabbergasted to find her weeping. She felt his gaze and buried her face into him.

"There's nothing to cry about," he said and patted her back awkwardly.

She sniffed in his shirt.

"Stupid little child," he chanted lowly and stroked her hair.

They sat in silence. The wind seemed to grew tired of blowing and had died down. The moon was full and enormous. More stars gleamed.

"Can... can you play that again?" She pointed to the silver Feelycon. Her voice was still a little coarse from the sobs and hiccups.

He nodded, and brought it once more to his lips. Hermione closed her eyes and leant back.

¡

Fly me to the moon,

And let me play among the stars;

Let me see what spring

Is like on Jupiter and Mars.

In other words, hold my hand-

In other words, darling kiss me-

Fill my heart with song,

And let me sing forever more;

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore.

In other words, please be true-

In other words, I love you-

¡

"I'm sorry, for everything," he whispered as the last note swirled into the darkness.

In the dark, he could see her eyes glittering again. As though just realizing she was supposed to stay angry with him, Hermione pulled away from him and fled down the stairs.

He watched her pensively as she disappeared from sight .

¡

In other words, I love you...

----------

Everything went back to normal, as if their intimate night-talk had never happened, but Severus had never felt so light-hearted. He whistled the next morning as he stepped into the staff room. Minerva was sitting in front of her desk, and her piercing glare was on him once he entered.

"Morning, Minerva."

The older witch mumbled in response. Severus shrugged and went over to his own desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Minerva twitching to come over. His lips turned up at the corners instinctively.

"Severus," finally, the Transfiguration extraordinaire gave in to her curiosity and came over, settling herself in the opposite chair.

"What can I help you?"

Ignoring his grin, Minerva cut straight to the point. "What happened last night?"

"Last night? What about last night?"

"Severus," she hissed his name with unusual venom. "What have you done again?"

"I don't feel the need to report my every action to anyone, Minerva," his voice hardened.

"She wanted to be out of the Hospital Wing this morning," Minerva slumped back and said. "This girl, who was still so pale and hardly ate anything yesterday..."

"Did Poppy agree to let her out?" He asked sharply.

"She sees no need in keeping the girl further."

"Bloody hell."

"Indeed," she said angrily. "Look, Severus, I never stepped into this because I trusted Hermione... and you. But now I am not so sure. If this continues and all you do is to hurt her-"

"Funny you should say this, considering how you and the Headmaster-!"

"What about me, Severus?"

A voice came from behind the pair and both jumped. Severus twirled and saw Dumbledore with an amused look on his face. The Headmaster walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Albus," Minerva cried out for help.

"You're not pulling him into this," warned Severus.

"I will not interfere in your personal affairs, Severus," Dumbledore smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "by the way, that's a nice little tune last night. I never realized you have such musical talents."

"Albus!" He exclaimed in frustration. He had forgotten the old man, being the brilliant Legilimens he was, was incredible in catching others' emotions. Minerva looked at both of them with interest. Severus had no doubt she would pester the Headmaster later until he gave in.

"I suggest you to apologize more formally to Miss Granger," Dumbledore continued. "A date, maybe?" With a thundering laugh, the eccentric old man left the room, Minerva closely following.

Severus sat, dumbfounded, his happiness this morning all gone. The stacks of essays on his desk stared back blankly at him, giving him no answer. He thought of her retreating back last night, her auburn hair flying behind her, and suddenly the idea of taking her out for dinner seemed greatly tempting.

----------

Hermione raced up the stairs with an envelop clutched tightly in hand, not even considering her trachea's condition. The Fat Lady eyed her frowningly.

"Now, now, young lady-"

"Soaring hyacinth," Hermione interrupted. The painting swung forward involuntarily.

She climbed through the hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's nag. The Common Room was deserted but for a few third-years, but Hermione felt the need to be completely alone. She skipped up the stairs two at a time to the dorm, which was empty. She sighed in relief, slumped into her bed, and squinted at the envelop in the dim light. She recognized the small seal on it.

Her breathing quickened.

Not wanting to tear it, she opened the letter with trembling fingers. Inside was a piece of card, small in size and elegant in design. She took it out and immediately saw the spiny writing of his.

'I apologize for everything bad I ever did to you. Allow me the honor and the opportunity to make it up by taking you out this Friday night. Write your reply on this card and return it before tonight.' The card read.

Hermione felt a rush of desire to scribble a 'yes' on the card, and suspected the he had charmed it so that she would accept his offer, a very tempting one at that...

"Hermione?"

She jerked up and fumbled to hide the card. Too late. Lavender had spotted it and, before she had the chance to protest, snatched it from her hands. She watched apprehensively as Lavender read it, her eyes flashing at every word.

"That git!" Lavender commented fiercely and threw it onto the bedspread. Hermione picked it up.

"Should I say 'yes'?" She asked timidly, backing away unnoticeably from the fuming girl.

"Are you crazy? Of course not!" Lavender threw herself onto the bed as well. "This is probably just another trick to tease you. Hurt you. See how far he can go. Gain advantage of you-"

"He'll never do that!" Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

"Says who?"

"But I thought you are supporting me," Hermione said, pouting.

"I was," Lavender corrected her. "Look at this card, not even a 'please'! That arrogant sod!"

"He can't be lying," I heard it myself last night. This Hermione did not say.

"This guy has some serious groveling to do before you forgive him," Lavender said. Hermione chuckled.

"Don't you think he- everyone- deserves a second chance?" She asked, her eyes softening.

"Hermy," Lavender sighed.

"What should I wear?"

"Hermy," Lavender sighed again, then brightened up. "The pink ones, of course."

----------

Severus paced in his dungeon. Not that he did not do this often, but he seldom paced in his dungeon for over three hours. One hour was usually his limit, for he grew dizzy and bored circling the small chamber. But tonight was not an usual situation, not at all. Tonight, he had asked a student out on a date. And she had not replied him yet.

Merlin, what is this world coming to? He buried his face into his hands, finally sitting down. He felt like a fifteen-year-old.

At last, the long-awaited tap was heard. He spun quickly, nearly broke his neck, and straightened his robe. Putting on a casual sneer, he walked over and pulled open the door. It was not Hermione.

It was Minerva.

In her hand was a crumpled envelop.

He swore to the Almighty that this was a kind of revenge on Hermione's part. The witch strode past him with a smirk. He closed the door and turned to face her.

"Gimme that," he said.

"Goodness, Severus, have you forgotten your manners?" Minerva asked with fake shock. He gritted his teeth.

"Good evening, Minerva."

"Same to you," the witch said comfortably and sat down. He had no choice but to sit down as well. Summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey, he poured them both a glass and gulped his. Minerva watched in amusement and took a sip.

"So," he started, trying hard not to stammer, and poured himself another glassful of alcohol. "What did she say?"

"I dunno. Haven't read it myself," she drawled slowly, enjoying the man's irritation every moment.

"Hand it over," he said, and added painfully. "Please."

"Wait," the witch lifted her glass and smiled. "Let's have a toast, shall we? For your success?"

"Success," he murmured darkly and they clanked their glasses. Minerva then gave him the envelop. He took it with clammy hands. She observed his face with interest, and saw the anxiety in his eyes turned into ecstasy. She stood up.

"Be good to her," she warned in front of the door. He merely nodded.

"Good luck, Severus."

----------

"Don't fret," Lavender advised gaily from her bed, with an amused expression on her face. Hermione ignored her, and continued her quest for the perfect outfit.

"What's going on here?" Ginny entered and wrinkled her nose. "What's with all the dust?"

"Cinderella's Ball," Lavender pointed at Hermione's bending back over some age-old trunk. Ginny chuckled knowingly.

"Oh. The Big Date."

"Would you two shut up? I am trying to think here," a muffled voice came from behind Hermione's four-poster. The other two girls exchanged a look, and shrugged.

The room fell silent, except the small sounds of shuffling and ruffling Hermione was making, dragging trunks around and pulling out new gowns.

After a while, Ginny could not bear it any longer and began,

"Do not wear-"

Hermione emerged from behind the bed at that moment. She was wearing an ankle-length, sleeveless, white chiffon gown.

"-white." Ginny finished hesitantly and stared. Lavender turned and she, too, stared.

Hermione smiled shyly and twirled, like a butterfly. When she saw that her friends were not going to give any comment, she stomped slightly and demanded, "so?"

"I agree with Gin. No white for you," Lavender shook herself out of the initial shock, and said. Ginny nodded, then shook her head.

"What's wrong with this dress?" Hermione pouted and looked at herself in the mirror. She twirled again.

"There's nothing wrong with the dress," Lavender went behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "It is you, Hermy."

"Me?"

"You're too-"

Merlin, she never realized how thin Hermione had gotten.

Hermione was puzzled. "Too what?"

"Slim?" Ginny suggested gently.

"Fragile," breathed Lavender. There was no other word for it. Hermione looked slightly better than a porcelain doll.

"Fragile? Me?" Hermione examined herself critically. She was not fat, never had been, but she was not slim like Parvati or Lavender either. But suddenly she seemed to know what Lavender was talking about. Her arms and her waist looked like they would snap any moment. Even her face looked small under her auburn bush of hair. Small and pale. She was almost transparent in this dress. Indeed, it was as if she was looking at another entirely different person.

"Gin's right. No white for you," Lavender snapped out of her thoughts and returned to herself.

"But, but," Hermione protested.

"No buts."

"But I like it," Hermione whispered under her friend's glare.

"But you look like you would be blown away by any wandering gust of wind."

"Don't be silly," Hermione smiled. "This one feels right."

"This one feels right, that one feels right," Lavender said pointedly. "You're always feeling right about something."

Of course Hermione understood. "This one is right." She stressed.

"At least put on a shawl, hmm?" Ginny came up from behind and smiled encouragingly.

----------

Severus stared at his hands and seemed to see beads of sweat rolling on them. They felt so wet. Balling his left hand into a fist, he knocked three times on the door determinedly.

He was not shaking. He was not anxious. Why would he be? He was a fully grown-up, mature man in his late-thirties, not some boy on his first date. He had long past that phrase. He had done this before.

Merlin bless him, he was shaking. Inside, at least.

The door opened slowly, revealing two girls in their uniforms. Lavender Brown and Ginny Weasley. He let out a breath that he didn't he had been holding.

"She's inside," said Weasley coldly as she walked past him and descended the stairs. Brown followed without a word, but shot him a glare that delivered clearly the message: "Be good to her, or else!" Hermione had some really protective friends. Shaking the thought away, he walked into the dormitory.

The room was dimly lit by a lamp on a bedside table, but he could still make out her silhouette on a bed. She turned around and stood up quickly.

"You are punctual," she said.

"And you are exquisite," he replied.

For a moment none spoke, each taking in each others' presence. His heart flipped at her frailness, and flipped again knowing that it was his fault. Gently he walked over to her, picked her hand up and planted a kiss on it.

"Let's go, shall we?"

----------

It would be the end of term soon, and everyone was enjoying the holiday spirit in the Common Room, packing and deciding what presents to buy. Hermione and Severus, therefore, exited Hogwarts undetected.

The sky was exceptionally clear for a winter night. Thousands of stars hung like lamps and glowed from above. The pair walked in silence, until a gust of wind passed them, ruffling the remaining leaves on the trees that flanked the road. Hermione was glad that she had put on a long burgundy coat instead of a shawl. Still, she quivered.

Severus noticed this, and without a word pulled her closer. Knowing there would be no use to object, Hermione relaxed and slipped an arm into his, nuzzling closer in the process.

"Why do you always wear far fewer than you should?" Severus questioned.

"This is charmed to be warmer than it looks," Hermione said, then laughed at her own lie.

"I know a few jinxes that can do that," he said, waving his hand mockingly. "Just a simple flick of the wand-"

"Oh, oh no," she laughed again, shaking her head. "No thank you. I prefer the way you're doing it now."

"I bet you do," the hint of a grin tugged at one end of his lips.

She blushed and looked down, finding a sudden interest in the twigs that lined the road. Then, trying to change the subject, she asked, "where are we going?"

Severus grinned broader. So blatant, tactless like a Griffindor she was. He could read her like a book anytime. That's what he liked about her.

And yes, he guessed he liked her. A bit, maybe.

"You'll see," he drawled, secretive, like a Slytherin he was.

----------

"Wow."

"You liked it," he said, more a statement than a question. He knew it from her eyes. They widened when the waitress brought them to their table. Not to mention her mouth, which was hanging slightly open, and the way she breathed the 'wow'. He was positively assured that she liked the place he picked.

"I- I have never-" words failed her. Running her fingers along the white tablecloth, she whispered again, "wow."

He went over to pull the chair for her. She sat down with her eyes on the table, not able to stop herself from marveling.

"This place is amazing, Professor. It is so pretty and so elegant and- I- I mean-" Hermione looked around, then locked her eyes on his. "This is exactly the place-"

"The place?"

"The place where our first date should be," she finished, smiling now. "Where- no, I mean, how did you find this perfect little restaurant?"

"Candles, flowers, soft music. How difficult can it be? You're so predictable."

"Girls are all predictable."

"Why do females enjoy dining in the scarcest amount of light with this-" he fingered a rose petal. "-in their nose, I will never know."

"Because this," she pointed to the two candles that stood on both sides of the table, "and this," she picked up a rose, "spell 'romance'. Now don't be a spoiler and choose your meal."

Taking the menu from her hand, he flipped through it and sighed. Not a particularly picky man- he had no time and was mostly not in the position to be one- he had little interest in any kind of food. Not that he did not eat, he did, but anything that was put on his plate. Even when he visited the Three Broomsticks, he ordered the same chips and Firewhiskey on rock every time. He highly doubted Hermione would appreciate having chips for dinner.

Putting down the menu, he said, "It'd be better for you to pick our food."

Hermione looked at him, then shrugged. She gestured slightly, and a waitress came over.

"How may I help you, miss?"

"We'd like an Italian veggie salad- light on the dressing, please- and two lobster soup, and a seafood pasta, a mixed-mushroom lasagna, baked oysters, and- lemme see- blueberry cheesecake, two slices."

"Veggie salad, two lobster soup, seafood pasta, mushroom lasagna, two slices of our Blueberry Delight."

"And baked oysters."

"And baked oysters. Got it. Can I get you something to drink?"

"A bottle of red wine will do-"

"What?" Severus sat up suddenly and interrupted. He was at a lost in the last minute, but the words 'red wine' seemed like a beam of light that penetrated the mist and brought him back on track. Hermione looked at him with a question in her eye.

"Get the girl a glass of pumpkin juice."

"Pumpkin juice? You're kidding, Professor!" She half-jumped in her chair.

"I can get you milk."

"I am so not having pumpkin juice. Butterbeer, at least?"

"Oh?" His voice reminded Hermione that he was still the meanest teacher in school. "But I insist. Get her a glass of pumpkin juice- or, make that orange. Orange juice."

"A glass of orange juice. And you, sir?"

He shot the fuming girl a glance, and grinned evilly. "Firewhiskey on rock, please."

----------

The flames flickered gently to the music, as if they were dancing, and cast shadows on both their faces. Severus noted that Hermione's auburn hair looked almost golden in this light, and decided that he liked it.

"Is there something on my hair?" She asked, putting down her fork.

"No. Just that- it feels so strange to see your hair actually up and tidy, not some untamable mess."

"It took Lavender hours, drove her crazy," she said, taking a sip of orange juice. "So how do you find the food?"

He put down his fork and cleaned his mouth with the napkin gracefully. "It's above average, I guess. Who am I to judge? After what I had for the last month, any food edible tastes heavenly to me."

"You miss my cooking," Hermione grinned. "Admit it, Professor."

"I miss your cooking as much as I miss the Dark Lord's underpants," Severus folded his arms and sat back.

Hermione choked on her juice and coughed.

"That's so lady of you."

"And you're no doubt the exemplary gentleman," she gasped. "He has underpants? How did you find out?"

"Miss Granger, I'd really rather not discuss the Dark Lord's choice of lingerie on our date. Or anytime else, for that matter."

"Are you a hundred percent sure he has underpants?"

He chose not to dignify the question with an answer, and raised his goblet to his lips.

"I've always imagined him to wear thongs or something."

It was his turn to choke on his drink. Hermione smiled triumphantly at the gagging Potions Master.

"I think it's getting rather late. Shall we go?"

----------

The couple exited the cozy restaurant and breathed in the cold crisp air. Severus bended down and buttoned up Hermione's coat. She looked down at his slender fingers and felt a pang went up her chest.

"You should have brought a scarf," muttered Severus, straightening up. "That trachea of yours-"

But Hermione was not paying attention. She walked a couple of steps and twirled to face Severus.

"I think I will race you to Hogwarts," with that she ran off. He stared at her back for a second before her words sank in.

"Come back here, you stupid Griffindor!"

Her giggles floated into his ears, and he began to run in great big steps. Not glide. Not stride. Run. Merlin knows how long it had been since he last ran. He caught her with relative ease, but then, he had legs much longer than hers. With a mighty tug, he pulled her into his arms. She did not struggle, but leaned against him, gasping for air.

"What in the bloody hell did you do that for?" He demanded angrily.

She looked up, hands clutching his robe tightly. A giggle escaped her lips. "That was fun!"

"You could so bloody well have an asthma attack!"

"Oh, don't be angry," she blinked innocently at him, then breathed a cloud of mist in his face. "Besides, how can I do this if I don't run?"

He glared into her hazel pupils, and little by little softened. Shaking his head at her sudden childishness, he pushed her head back into his chest. She closed her eyes. The pair stood in silence embrace for a long while.

Finally, Hermione looked up again.

"As comfortable as it was to stand here and listen to your heartbeat, I really think we should return to the school."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed.

They started toward Hogwarts, slowly, not wanting the enchanting night to end. However, as much as they stalled, the magnificent castle eventually came into view.

"So, that's it," Severus said in front of the gate.

"Yeah," whispered Hermione.

Their eyes locked. He gently slipped his arms around her waist.

"I hope it snow soon," she said, glancing up at the sky.

"Wish granted," he moaned, and picked the first piece of snowflake out of her hair.

"Don't sulk," she smiled. Snow had started to fall. "Don't you think snow is the prettiest thing in the world?"

"No," he answered pointedly, looking at her. She blushed. "It causes the dungeons to be unbearably dank and cold. And it cuts this night short. We'd better get in."

She nodded and let him escort her back to the Griffindor dormitory. When they were there, Severus said,

"So, that's it. The final 'that's it'."

"Thank you, I- I've enjoyed tonight."

"I am glad," he said, then glowering at the peeping Fat Lady, whispered, "have I ever told you how much I dislike this portrait?"

She eyed him disapprovingly, but the smile on her lips betrayed her. She planted a kiss on his cheek and blushed.

"Goodnight, Professor."

Staring at her disappearing back through the entrance, he changed his mind. He liked her a lot.

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A/N: I won't be updating so soon, but I promise I won't let this die. I hope you all enjoy the last bit, hehe. Now be a nice girl (or boy) and REVIEW! Anonymous reviewers, leave your email address if you want to be on the mailing list.