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Thursday afternoons were usually spent with Professor Wicklebunn, the Muggle Studies teacher, as neither had class that day. They learned not only did they both have muggle born parents but they were also both from Oxford, a town outside of London. Arithmancy was also a favorite subject of theirs.

"How did you end up teaching Dark Arts?" Primrose asked one day as they sipped tea in the garden. "With everything you've told me, this is the last place you should have been."

Primose Wicklebunn was older than Hermione by eight years, graduating from Hogwarts the year before Hermione arrived. She often reminded Hermione of movie starlets from the 1950's, as that time period in movie history was her parents' favorite and was quite familiar with them. While blond hair shaped Primrose's face in delicate curves, her body was slim and graceful as she moved, with cat-like blue eyes that missed nothing.

Having faced many of the same name calling situations as the younger girl, Primrose went to work after graduation with Arthur Weasley at the Ministry of Magick in the muggle artifact department and had thoroughly loved her work until Albus had called her a couple years previous to invite her to return to Hogwarts and teach a class that was naturally dear to her heart.

"Albus can be very persuading," Hermione answered her new friend. "And I found it a challenge as well so I certainly couldn't pass it up." She smiled. "And it is good to be back."

Primrose smiled then too. "Yes," she agreed. "This always was my home away from home. I hated leaving each year."

"What do you think of the other teachers?" Hermione asked casually. "I always thought Professor Sprout was the sweetest of all."

"She has been a dear," Primrose agreed. "Actually I get along with all them quite well. Hagrid is so helpful and I wish more people treated him better. Albus of course is a wonderful headmaster, always so just and fair. Sybil is…rather…colorful, but still very pleasant." She lowered her voice and said, "It's Severus and Milinda that make me a bit nervous."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "Why is that?"

"Well, you know, while Severus is extremely intelligent," Primrose began. "He lacks so much in personality. I don't know why he has to be so cynical and angry all the time."

Hermione was caught off guard somewhat, finding herself resisting the temptation to exclaim that there were reasons he was like he was and that he shouldn't be judged for something that wasn't his fault. Stop it, she told herself again. You are not here to defend Severus!

"And with Milinda the Miserable at his side," she said, rolling her eyes. "Well I never saw two people more suited for each other." She set her teacup down and leaned over towards Hermione. "I'm not usually one for gossip," she said quietly. "But I heard they bicker quite often."

Hermione stifled a laugh at the nickname Primrose had given the ancient runes teacher and fought a very strange emotion while listening to her words. Shaking it off, Hermione said, "Well I can't honestly see how two miserable people could be happy together anyway. Seems they would only make each other more miserable."

"I've caught them arguing a few times," Primrose added. "And apparently Milinda wants a committed relationship, possibly marriage, and Severus does not."

"He doesn't want to be serious with her?"

Primrose shook her head. "He made comments of how he was fine with their current arrangement and did not see the need for any change, whatever their current arrangement is," she told her. "It wasn't a nice conversation to overhear."

With a smirk, Hermione asked, "So why did you listen?"

Trying to hide slight blush, Primrose answered, "I couldn't help it!"

Both laughed as the bell ringing in the tower told them it was six.

"Oh I must go," Hermione said, rushing to gather her things. "I'm to meet with Mr. No Relationship to continue with our project."

"Okay," Primrose said, laughing at Hermione's nickname for him. "Good luck!"

Hermione found herself grinning all the way to Severus' classroom. What was wrong with her? She tried shaking it off but could not. She knew what it was as much as every fiber in her didn't want to admit it.

She was glad Severus and Milinda were not together like she thought them to be.

As she walked briskly through the halls, Hermione noticed one of the people on her mind approaching from the other end.

"Well, hello Professor Myer," Hermione greeted, her words dripping with sweetness. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to chat since I arrived."

Milinda's thin bony face showed no enthusiasm. "That's quite all right," she said curtly. "I don't believe we would have much in common."

"Oh I don't know about that," Hermione continued with a big smile. "I remember I found my ancient runes class fascinating, but you'll have to excuse me for now. I have a meeting." She paused. "Do you know if Severus is in his office by chance?"

The minute Hermione mentioned his name, Milinda's lips thinned out as she pressed them together. "He is," she nearly snarled, eyes narrowing. "Waiting for you."

"Thanks so much," Hermione called, heading off down the hall, finding it near impossible not to burst out laughing. Part of her felt bad but a bigger part of her didn't care.

When Hermione pushed open the door to his office, Severus didn't flinch but asked, "Do you not know how to knock?" His head was buried in grading papers.

"Didn't we have a meeting scheduled at this time?" she asked quickly. "So weren't you expecting me?"

Severus looked up from his grading, meeting her brown eyes with his. He couldn't help but instantly be reminded of the multitude of times they'd spent together the last three years before her graduation in this very office. It had started out as preparations for NEWTS but once those were over, they continued to meet, working on numerous projects, some Albus had assigned and others they created on their own, and he'd found over time that he could carry on conversations with her that were impossible with others. While she had grated his last nerve as a student, she had also seemed to pull a better part of him out, a hidden part that he purposely kept from the light.

A hidden part. The memory of the night he'd told her who his father was briefly flashed through his mind. It had been nearly a year after their meetings started and well before…

"Professor Granger," he said, stopping his thoughts from progressing any further. "If you're prepared we can move to the classroom where we'll have more room."

During his silence, Hermione noticed the slightest flicker of something pass through his eyes. Was he thinking about the times they'd been together in here? He had to be. And she knew how to find out. "Actually, Severus," she said, purposely using his first name. "I thought we'd remain in here. Kind of like old times." She paused before adding. "And as always, I do have a first name. We're not going to have that old conversation again, are we?"

Doing his best to hide his smirk but thinking it didn't work very well, Severus said, "As you wish, Hermione. Now are we through reminiscing? Can we please get to work as I have other things that need my attention."

"For now I guess," she said, offering a small smile, as they pulled out papers and began more work on the NEWTS revisions.

"Professor Granger!" Wil called out. "I have that book for you!"

He ran slightly to catch up to Hermione and handed her a rather thick and well-worn book. "This is the one that talks about you and your friends," he told her.

Hermione read the title. "This is a 'History of Hogwarts' book, Mr. Wheelen," she said rather confused.

"There's a spell on the book," Wil explained. "Potter, Weasley and Granger, nothing more stranger." As he turned the pages, she saw they did contain stories about what happened. "Then just repeat it again and it'll change back."

Albus is genius, she thought with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Wheelen," she said. "Should I return this to you when I'm finished?"

"Yes, Professor Granger," he answered, running off to his dormitory.

"What could you possibly find interesting about a book you had practically memorized before you ever even attended Hogwarts?" the all too familiar voice asked from behind her.

Turning around, with one hand on her hip, she said, "You know what? I told you once before years ago that you could bark and growl all you wanted, that I wasn't buying your act. So if you'd like to talk to me, the way we used to, you know where my office is."

Hermione walked away, leaving a rather surprised Severus behind and an angry Milinda watching from a distance.

The next few nights Hermione sat by her fireplace, as the stone walls were growing colder with the coming of winter not far away, completely absorbed in reading Albus' recounts of her time at Hogwarts. She had to admit, they were fascinating which she found funny because she had lived them herself! Somehow it was the way he retold the stories. He made them seem so much braver and smarter than she originally thought they'd been. Most of the time they'd been flying by the seat of their pants, not really knowing what was the best thing to do.

Hermione was glad this book existed and wished she could thank Albus for writing it but knew she would not say anything to him.

A knock interrupted her reading. Oh boy, she thought. What has little Miss Clothwick done now and how many points should I take?

"Well what do I owe this dubious honor?" Hermione asked when she opened the door and saw Severus standing there, without his usual grumpy look. "Wait, don't tell me. One of my students has somehow managed to put themselves in the pages of a book and now can't get out."

Severus ignored her sarcasm, feeling quite uncomfortable but choosing to ignore it. "Professor Granger," he said quietly. "You told me a number of days ago that if I wanted to… talk to you…that I knew where to find you."

Hermione stared blankly at him for a moment, noticing not only was he not grumpy but he looked almost…nervous. Severus nervous? Mark that down in Hogswart's history, she thought. "Of course," she said with a smile. "Come in."

She walked back over to the end of the couch she'd been at previously while he stood, unsure of himself.

"You can sit," she said. "I won't bite." She laughed, hoping to see at least the hint of a smile.

"Witty as always Prof…Hermione," he corrected himself, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

He faced the fireplace with his hands in his lap while she turned and sat Indian style, facing him. "Severus," she said. "Did you really come over to stare at my fireplace?"

Turning to face her quickly, he answered, "No I did not. Like I said... I came here…to talk."

She smiled. "But you're not talking."

"I know," he said truthfully, looking down at his hands again. "Hermione, this is very…odd."

"What is?"

He sighed. "You being here…again…and us…working together…again…except things are different now."

He came to tell me about him and Milinda, she immediately thought. Great.

"Yes I know," she agreed, figuring there was no need to hide it. "I've heard about you and Professor Myer."

His face displayed a look of confusion as his head tilted slightly to the side. "Pardon?"

"I know things are different. I know about you and Milinda…being together."

He shook his head. "She has nothing to do with this."

"But she's your girlfriend."

"Not exactly."

Hermione was confused now. "You've lost me, Severus," she said. "What were you talking about being different then?"

He looked back at his hands before allowing his eyes to join with hers. "You're not a student…anymore," he said quietly. "You're a…young woman…a teacher…a fellow colleague."

Were these statements of the obvious good or bad? "I don't understand," she said.

After a heavy sigh, Severus said, "Milinda is not my girlfriend, as you so put it."

"That's what I heard."

"It was incorrect information."

"Then what is she?"

"It's complicated."

"Are you sleeping with her?" Hermione asked, getting directly to the point as she usually did.

His silence did not confirm or deny.

"Oh heavens," she said exasperated. "Severus, we're adults! Adults have sex! Some in relationships and some not. You're the one that brought it up."

"No I did not."

"Then talk to me already and stop treating me like some prissy virgin when you know I'm not."

He finally leaned back against the couch, wondering how to explain. "I've usually been very… happy being alone," he said. "But when Milinda arrived, she was always… around me, sitting by me and such. We began… to talk and when I learned her parents put her in an orphanage when she was seven, we found we …understood each other on a different level, understood the hidden pain and outward …anger of being unwanted. And then over a period of time, it turned…physical."

"Where does it stand now?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "We have frequent… arguments, unfortunately, and do not…get together…like we used to. She wants a normal… relationship and I do not and that has…caused problems."

"Has she mentioned me?" Hermione asked curiously. "Because she has given me some pretty dirty looks."

Severus' dark eyes were apologetic. "Yes you have been the topic of quite a few…discussions since you arrived," he told her. He had to admit to himself as much as he didn't want to that it felt good to be talking like this with her again.

"I haven't said anything to her, Severus," Hermione assured him. "I've given her no reason to hate me."

"I know," he said and both were quiet for a moment.

Picking up her book, Severus asked, "So why are you reading this again?"

"Read the page."

It only took a few seconds before he looked up at her with curious eyes. "What is this?"

"One of my students told me about it," she explained. "It's a normal book until you say the spell and then it turns to this."

"Who wrote this?" he asked.

Hermione didn't want to tell but she didn't want to lie either. He trusted you with something that could get you both killed, she reminded herself. Why should he trust you if you won't trust him with something this insignificant?

"I've heard that Albus did," she answered. "But I don't know if that's true."

He smirked. "Looks like something he'd do." He handed her the book and said, "Well enjoy your reading. I must go."

Wanting him to stay but not daring to say anything that was flying through her brain at the moment, she heard herself ask, "When are we meeting again to work on our project?"

They walked over to the door as he answered, "In a couple days." And then with a turn of his cloak, he left.

Hermione closed the door quietly, replaying their conversation over in her mind. He had wanted to talk to her and yet hadn't really talked about anything. He told you that he wasn't serious with Milinda, she told herself. What more do you want from someone you haven't seen in seven years?

Curling up on the couch again and gazing into the crackling fire, she allowed images from some of their times together to appear before her. Usually she suppressed them but tonight it seemed proper to reminisce.

She remembered the night they'd fought about her name, always causing her to laugh at the memory. It was fifth year and they'd finished with the NEWTS, working on a project for Albus.

"Why can't you call me by my name?"

"Your name isn't Miss Granger?"

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said. "Why can't you call me Hermione?"

"Because I am a teacher and you are a student," he answered.

"When we're in class, you are my teacher," she agreed. "But we're working on this project together…as equals…not as a teacher and student."

"Equals Miss Granger?"

"You know what I mean." She paused, watching as his finger skimmed down the page, searching for information he needed for this part of the project. "Look, I think it would be quite proper to use our first names when we meet like this."

"I don't see why you're making a big deal out of this."

"I don't see why you are."

"Could we get back to the reason we're here?"

"Sure after you say my name."

He turned to face her with a disgusted sigh. "You are insufferable," he snarled.

"Don't you growl at me," she warned. "I already told you about that."

She pushed every bit of patience he had, wishing he could turn and yell at her but knowing it would only provoke her. When he turned his head again to look at her sitting on the stool by him, she was smiling. Dammit, why did she have to smile all the time? He hated when she did that.

Or did he?

"Come on," she said with the cutest smile she could muster. "Say my name. You know you want to. Come on, Severus. See, I can say yours with no problem. Saying mine should be easy."

He bowed his head and fought against the smile trying to form on his lips. Damn her!

"Is that a smile?" she asked, leaning down to see past the strands of hair covering his face. "Oh my god I think it is! Quick alert the Order!"

Her laughing temporarily broke something in him. He lifted his head, allowing her to see that which was rarer than a two-horned unicorn; a small smile. Slightly embarrassed, he shook his head at her.

"See?" she said, satisfied with his reaction. "It's not so bad is it? You have a nice smile, you know. And now I've seen it so there's no reason to stifle it around me any longer."

"Hermione," he said purposely. "Can we return to our project?"

"Now we can," she answered.

She laughed quietly as the fire continued to pop and crackle in front of her. She had been quite happy with herself that night. And she remembered little things, too, like how close they stood at times, how their hands bumped and hit accidentally when working a potion, the quizzical looks each gave the other periodically and the time he'd shielded her from an exploding cauldron.

"Mushroom oil is highly combustible," he was telling her. "Only seventh years are allowed to use this. You must pour it in very carefully, making sure to keep the flow even and controlled."

Hermione tried to do as she was told until a surprise sneeze hit her, causing her hand to flinch and the flow to become quite uncontrolled.

Immediately, the steam turned red as Severus exclaimed, "Down!" and grabbed Hermione, pulling her to the floor, covering her curled up body with his while an explosion of fireworks went off about the room, each growing with intensity until the cauldron literally exploded, spewing out gobs of potion and pieces of metal within a six foot radius. He had felt pieces hit his back but knew with the cloak they had not reached his skin and hoped they hadn't reached hers either.

When quiet had once again returned, Severus lifted from her body, looking down at her, their eyes meeting in a strange look of combined fear and confusion.

Hermione realized she was in his arms.

And then realized she liked it.

Severus, trying to regain his composure, realized his anti-mind reading mental wall was down, consequently reading Hermione's thoughts. She likes being in my arms? he thought curiously.

Hermione was reaching for her ankle, feeling a burning sensation, as they both looked to see a bleeding tear in her skin and a piece of the cauldron beside her.

"I need to see the nurse," she said, wincing as the pain registered.

"Nonsense," he said, helping her up, ignoring his interest in her thoughts. "She wouldn't know how to treat this properly. Follow me."

She limped behind him, carefully making their way through the mess, towards the back of the classroom.

"I'm so sorry," she was saying. "Sneezes just hit me with no warning. I'll clean up the mess."

"Sit on the table," he instructed her, turning to a small cabinet and pulling out a couple bottles.

Moving chairs out of the way, she did as he said, pulling her knees up, exposing her wound.

He faced her and set two small bottles on the table. She watched as he gently wiped the wound before opening both bottles and applying a green salve to her skin with his fingers.

"What is that?" she asked, feeling the coolness against her skin and the slight pressure of his fingers, flinching slightly.

"Toadstool salve to counter the effects of the oil," he explained. "The other is fig ointment to help heal the cut."

She watched as he rubbed on the ointment, which felt warm in contrast to the salve, and then he wound a small bandage around her ankle to cover the wound. She found herself thinking she was sorry it was over.

Still able to read her mind, Severus was surprised at her thoughts. "I think we're finished for the night," he told her, quickly putting his mental wall back up. "Try to keep your ankle elevated during the night. I will take care of the mess."

Absentmindedly, Hermione touched that spot on her ankle, almost wishing there had been a small scar but there was not. The wound had healed perfectly.

Stifling a yawn, she got up and stretched, deciding she would go to bed as she had class early in the morning and replaying these memories over in her head were getting her nowhere.

Having finished the book, Hermione dropped it off to Hagrid as she said she would, hastily telling him the spell before quickly running off to get to her class.

Eager to begin her lesson, as today she would be telling them of disarming curses and how to counter them, Hermione was surprised to find Milinda waiting quite impatiently by her door. What did she want now?

"Good morning Professor," Hermione tried to greet warmly, forcing a smile. "What can I do for you this morning?"

"Are you always late to your own class?" she sneered.

Hermione didn't know what she was playing at but she was losing control of her composure. "First of all, it is my class," she reminded the other teacher. "And second of all, it is none of your business as you are neither head of a house or headmaster." She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Now what may I help you with?"

Approaching Hermione, Milinda stepped close and growled, "Eyes are the windows into a sea of memories, Professor Granger. You might want to…watch yourself." After one last glare, she turned and quickly walked away.

Hermione stood in confusion. What the bloody hell did that mean? Her first thought was to ask Severus but decided that would not be wise.

She knew who she needed to talk to.