Even after she had left he still couldn't get her off his mind. He had hoped that he made it clear he wanted her to come back. Her scent still lingered in the air, and as he sat amidst it he wondered what the hell he was doing. These thoughts, they were entirely inappropriate. She was, at one time, a student of his, and as much as it grieved him to say it, a best friend to Harry Potter. Oh how much he hated that boy, even after the war had ended they could not put aside their differences, 'Just like his father,' He thought. But the way she was, the way she acted. Not like his student, but his peer, like an adult. She was an adult after all, 'No…no it's wrong.' He thought a shower would wash away the thoughts he was having.

After he had washed up and changed, he climbed into his comfortable bed and pulled the huge velvet blanket over his head. How soft it was, just like her hands. He wondered if all her skin was as soft and smooth as those hands had been. Of course it was. Even in sleep he couldn't get her out of his mind. He woke up the next morning in a happier mood than usual. He stretched his arms out to the sides and was surprised that he could actually do it. It had been months since he could fully extend either of his arms. Hermione really had worked miracles. He pulled on his clothing and decided to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Being that he was not a social man, he had not been there since he had officially resigned, seeing that there was no need for it. But just the thought that maybe Hermione would be there was enough to get his heart pumping. He turned into the Great Hall, and immediately his scanning eyes found what they were looking for. He didn't even notice they stares he got from the students as he walked through the rows of tables. On many occasions Dumbledore had ask Snape to join them in breakfast, and always he declined, 'Well, there's always a spot for you.' Albus had said. So when he saw Severus approaching, naturally, he was surprised.

Hermione looked up as Snape entered the hall and couldn't stop herself from smiling. Minerva had assured her that Severus wouldn't be joining them, it must have been the first time McGonagall had ever been wrong, Hermione thought.

"Good morning Professor," She greeted from behind her Daily Prophet, "I hope you slept well." She had no idea.

"Fine." Was all he had to say, but still she stared at him waiting for more, "…And how about you Miss Granger, did you sleep well?"

"Oh yes quite well," She replied. She spoke again shortly after, trying to make conversation, "I see you're back to formalities Professor."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I'm 'Miss Granger' once again."

"Oh, yes I suppose so." He said as he took a bite of his toast, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Hm, oh no I'm not feeling well today." She answered, "Perhaps I'll eat a bit later. Uh I was wondering when you would like to see me again Professor."

"Oh, I don't know Miss Granger," He answered, "What time is good for you to begin pestering me again?"

"6:30 how does that sound?"

"Fine."

"Fine. I'll meet you at your rooms." She said as she stood up to leave, "I guess I'll see you then Professor."

"Yes. See you then." What the hell, was he actually being nice to her, in front of everyone too. He must have been losing it. Much to his astonishment he found himself moments later in his sitting room counting the seconds till 6:30.

Hermione walked off to her room. She felt so tired and weak, the massage the night before had taken her strength from her. Her arms were in so much pain. She found it quite ironic. Where she had taken away someone else's pain, she had just as easily placed it upon herself. She passed the library where, in her youth, she had spent most of her time. She did have some research to do, but decided that it could wait. She wanted to sleep for a while. When she finally got to her room, she didn't take the time to make herself comfortable. She quickly crawled under the covers and passed out. A while turned into 4 hours and she scolded herself for sleeping that long, now she barely had time to get her work done before she had to see Professor Snape.

When she finally got to Snape's rooms it was 6:29. She had run there from the library, wary to receive another tongue lashing from him. She waited there for him but he never came. She wondered if he had forgotten but feared to knock on the door. Instead she turned the knob and pushed. It was open, she dared to step inside but still he was nowhere to be found. She crossed through the office and into the sitting room. Still no Snape, finally she walked into his bedroom and there he was. Passed out, just as she had been, on the bed. She laughed silently, if he had ever caught her sleeping on the job she would have been fired. She took the time to survey him. He was much more peaceful when he slept. There were no mean scowls on his face, and he didn't try to bite your head off at every possible moment. She liked him better that way. As she examined his features, and it surprised her to find that he was relatively handsome. But then she never really looked at him, at least never like this. Again she laughed to herself how tacky it seemed, he was tall, dark, and handsome. Dark, definitely dark, but that was what was so intriguing about him. He was so defenseless in his sleep, when she was his student he had terrified her to no end, now here she was standing in his bedroom watching him sleep. And to her astonishment she had no fear, he really wasn't that bad. He was…tolerable. Soon her eyes began to travel around the room, there was a door in the corner and she wondered where it led. 'No' She thought, 'It may be private,' But to no avail. Soon her curiosity took over, and the inner girl from Hogwarts came out to play. She looked at him again, he was completely knocked out, if she was quick and kept quiet he would never know. Besides what else was she going to do before he got up? She crept over slowly and grabbed the handle, it turned with ease and she pushed it open. It made a small squeak as it opened, and Snape stirred a bit but Hermione never noticed. Instead she took a step back. It was his private library, a sea of books, and not just magical books she was surprised to find, but muggle books as well. She walked along the rows skimming the bindings with her fingers lightly; the books were precious after all. She couldn't believe the amount he had collected. She even found a section completely dedicated to Shakespearean literature. She quickly reached for Macbeth. It was her favorite muggle play; she'd seen it at least four times. She scanned the pages and found her favorite speech.

"What exactly do you think you are doing?" She jumped at the sound of the voice and dropped the book. She turned around quickly to find Snape standing at the doorway with a grimace on his face.

"Professor," She said as she bent to pick up the book, "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, I just…"

"What is that you have in your hands?" He asked as he strode over to where she was stranding. He reached out and grabbed it from her, his hand sliding against hers as he did.

"Shakespeare Sir."

"Macbeth," He was shocked, it was his favorite play, "And what, prey-tell, were you doing with it?"

"I-I was looking for Macbeth's soliloquy," She managed to stutter out.

"Ah, 'It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury sig-…'"

"'…Signifying nothing,'" Hermione finished for him, "It's my favorite." It was so dark and depressing, so unlike her, how could that be her favorite speech, he wondered. He could do nothing but stare at her, she really was so intelligent. Hermione thinking he wanted to hear more continued on.

"Sir I really am so sorry. It's just you were sleeping and I…"

"It's fine Miss Granger, let's just get this over with." He said, listlessly. She looked up at him and caught his gaze for a moment. His eyes were so dark and deep, like pools. Who knew what lie there? She was so small, he thought, almost a foot and a half shorter than him. He fought the urge to embrace her right there. She blushed as he continued to stare and began to depart from the room. As she got to the doorway he came up alongside her and put his arm out in front of her. She immediately stopped and her heart began to race. He slowly slipped the book into her hand and then left the room. After he had traveled into the sitting room she smiled. It was the little actions like that, that surprised her. Once she began to work the mood settled down. She started on his shoulders this time. She talked on about how he had stress-knots and he found that he liked the sound of her voice. It was soothing, he wasn't used to hearing anything but silence. It had been quite a long time since he had had any company around, and he didn't really mind it. This time she wore jeans and a v-necked light-pink sweater. The irony of it killed him; it was her modesty that was so sexy. She also hummed as she worked, blues songs. Many of them he knew and had to defy the impulse to hum along with her, it just wasn't in his character. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Macbeth how could someone her age be so knowledgeable about these things? How could someone like her ever see anything in Ronald Weasley? An odd twist of fate if you asked him. If only she was older. Her small hands kneaded his skin up and down, side to side. It felt wonderful. She was so powerful, yet so tiny.

It was a while before he noticed she had finished.

"Professor. Professor I'm finished for tonight."

"Uh, oh yes. Yes goodnight then." He said as he stood up. There it was, the shooting pain right up his left side. He couldn't stop the gasp from escaping his lips. The last thing he saw before he passed out was her running over to catch him.