'What was going on in that head of hers now?' Snape wondered. 'She must be thinking of Pryce. How she could have been taken in by that pretty boy degenerate is beyond me. She always seemed so sensible. Never accepting a second date with any of those dunderheads at school. Then she lowers herself for Pryce. He would be what now, fifty years old... give or take?' Severus visibly frowned. 'Okay, fine, forty-two.' Severus mentally corrected himself, giving in to the inner voice that insisted he not be self deluded. 'What's the difference really... forty-two, fifty... and why am I even thinking about her personal life? Oh yes, it could interfere with her work for The Order. I simply will not allow that . Ah, I see Potter is trying to gain her attention and failing miserably.' Severus smirked inwardly at that.
It seemed to Severus that Hermione was completely lost in her own head; as she stared at her plate, absently pushing food around with her fork.
'I need to tell her to snap out of it and put her guard up. If she is to undertake dangerous Order work, she must be be aware of her surroundings at all times. (Merlin, I've been reduced to sounding like Alastor-Constant-Vigilance-Moody!) But I can't tell her anything with the devious duo around her. At least if we are not already gone on Albus' fool scheme tomorrow, then they will be gone.' Severus comforted himself.
Hermione seemed to be looking at her plate, when in fact she focusing on absolutely nothing. She was deep in thought.
'The nerve of Minerva, to say I was as condescending as Professor Snape. Just because I didn't want to waste everyone's time when she didn't know the answer to my question. I mean really, look at him over there,' she thought, as she surreptitiously regarded Professor Snape from under her eyelashes. 'He is just radiating hostility. I'm not hostile. I'm nice. And Minerva had the.. the, nerve to suggest that I sounded like him at The Order meeting. Condescending indeed. I've never been! I have absolutely nothing in common with him. Absolutely nothing! I never have, I never will. Minerva must have been hurt that I didn't choose her? But, to say I have changed and matured one moment, then to say I'm acting like him the next. I'll ask Harry or Ron, they know me. They have for years. They know I've never been bossy or overbearing like he is! On second thought, maybe I won't ask them, they would say I was like him. Just because I'd rather read then listen to them incessantly prattle on about Quidditch. Oh, Minerva got under my skin with that. Maybe it's got something to do with touching his incredible hand yesterday. It meant nothing to me. Less then nothing. I don't even know why I'm thinking about it again. I've wasted enough time thinking about it. Dwelling on it really... Temporary insanity, that must be it.'
Hermione was cruelly jarred from her thoughts by Ron literally yelling directly into her ear, "Oi! Anyone home?"
'Oh he's obnoxious sometimes, simply insufferable!' Hermione silently seethed.
Her head snapped up and she fixed Ron with a glare that looked like she was mentally casting unforgivables on him.
'Did I just think the word insufferable? No! I'm not like Snape. It's only because Minerva planted the thought. That's all. Really!' Hermione stubbornly argued with her inner voice.
"This is me and Harry's last day here 'Mione. Tomorrow we're going to
the Burrow. For a week of punishment, but we'll stay longer. To have
some weeks of fun after. You can't get in any good Quidditch practice
here in the city, and Mum and
Gin are staying for a few weeks. So, what should we all do after lunch, to celebrate?" Ron asked.
"First Ronald, my name is not 'Mione, or oi," Hermione said irritably. "My name is Her-mi-o-ne. If that is too many syllables for your Quidditch addled brain to comprehend, then I suggest you simply leave me in peace. Besides, I can't do anything with you this afternoon. I have to pick something up from home. Alb- the Headmaster arranged a portkey for me, so that I can."
She then spoke loudly down the table to Molly Weasley, "Thank you for the lovely lunch. I'm afraid I must be going, please excuse me." Hermione banished her dishes to the sink, where they began to clean and dry themselves.
'See, polite. Nice. That's me, as always. Nice polite Hermione Granger, the anti-Snape!' Hermione pronounced happily to herself.
"Ah Severus. I was hoping I would catch you," Albus said as he waylaid him on the stairs after lunch.
"Where else would I be Headmaster? I am under house arrest am I not?" Severus responded sardonically.
"No, my boy, you most certainly are not. I would ask some of your time today though," Albus said.
"Yes Albus?" Severus prompted with restrained impatience.
"I would like you to accompany Hermione to her parents house. She needs to get something, and I would feel better if she were not going alone. She's still inexperienced when it comes to belonging to The Order, and there are actual Death Eaters out there that could pose a threat," Albus said earnestly.
"Of course Albus, I had nothing better to do with my last hours before this scheme of yours begins," Severus said.
"Wonderful!" Albus smiled, ignoring Severus' sarcasm. "This is the portkey, it will take you to a secluded spot near Hermione's parent's home. This is your return portkey. It will land you on Platform nine and three quarters. Do let Hermione take as long as she needs, Severus. She may not see her parents again until next summer."
"Of course," Severus snapped.
"Well I'll go tell Hermione to meet you in the entrance hall in an hour." With that Albus sauntered cheerily off.
Hermione walked into the entrance hall and stepped up to Severus' side. "Again I must apologize for taking up your time Professor. If I had known that Albus would ask you to come with me, I would have made other arrangements," Hermione said, looking up into Severus' eyes.
A moment passed, as Severus appreciated Hermione's apparel. She was wearing a form fitting long black dress, with long slightly belled sleeves, and a high winged collar. He was finally opening his mouth to answer, when Harry and Ron burst into the entrance hall with their Quidditch gear.
"Hermione what are you wearing?" Ron asked.
"You look like Morticia Addams," Harry added helpfully.
'Morticia Addams ?' Hermione thought. 'I always dress more... well, stereotypically witchy when I go home. I've seen many other witches dressed like this in Diagon alley. It helps my parents remember that my life is different than a Muggle's. What's their problem?' "Morticia Addams, honestly!" Hermione huffed aloud.
"Who?" Ron asked.
"Muggle entertainment Ron," Harry answered.
"So what are you wear-"
Hermione lost it and cut him off, "A dress Ronald! Girls wear dresses," she indicated her striking black ensemble.
Severus froze as Hermione had the audacity to pull his robes aside and point at his legs.
"And boys wear pants!" she announced.
Severus was about to launch into an indignant tirade, when he caught sight of the horrified expressions on Harry and Ron's faces.
'This is priceless. This could be worth it. I think I will let her get away with touching me. This time, if this is the result,' Severus thought.
"Except some boys wear skirts!" Hermione declared, as she grabbed hold of the portkey and pointed her wand at Ron.
Severus just barely got a good view of Ron in full Highland Regimental regalia; bare knobby knees, kilt hose, sporran, and all. Severus felt a smirk tugging at his lips, at the same time he felt the familiar tugging of portkey travel behind his navel.
Portkey travel has always been an affront to Severus Snape's dignity, but this was completely unacceptable. He had landed flat on his back on Platform nine and three quarters. He found himself unable to get up. He quickly determined that this was because there was a hysterical Hermione Granger sprawled on top of him.
"Miss Granger," Severus said, in a deadly tone.
"Oh my, oh my..." Hermione choked out before losing the ability to speak again. "Oh, Professor!" she tried to get up but instead she fell back down on him again. "I'm so sor... ry, sir," she panted between peals of laughter.
'Yes, she is completely hysterical,' Severus thought. 'Thank Merlin this place is deserted.'
He managed to get himself into a sitting position, but he still had a lap full of a laughing Hermione Granger.
She put her hands on his shoulders as she tried to control her laughter and push herself up off of him. She almost made it, but not quite. Half way up, with his shoulders clutched in her hands she dissolved in renewed fits of mirth. Failing to disengage herself from him, and succeeding in pulling him over on top her instead. Her laughter died instantly. Her breathing became shallow as she looked up into the face of her Professor above her. The feel of his silky black hair falling forward and brushing her face was so sensual that she lost the ability to think. She continued holding his shoulders as their gazes locked. They stared deeply into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then their faces began to move ever so slowly closer together. Suddenly, Severus, broke the intimate stare, as he shot to his feet abruptly, pulling her up with him.
"I'm... I'm sorry, sir. I just can't believe I'm - " she began.
"You do seem to be a bit, uncoordinated, don't you?" he asked, as he raised a sardonic eyebrow.
She wasn't listening, and she began an entirely different conversation, "Had you never been in a Muggle home before?"
"I will admit it was a first for me. I have met Muggles of course, but never in their natural habitat," he allowed.
"Oh, no, don't get me started again." She giggled uncontrollably.
"I should think not," he agreed.
"I don't presume to know anything about your life of course..."
"Of course," he interrupted sarcastically.
"...but I've never seen anyone take to you like that. Dislike you on sight maybe, but - " She paused as she thought. "My parents never even liked Arthur Weasley, or Albus Dumbledore instantly like they did you. One would think Arthur and Albus would engender warm feelings from Muggles. But you, well you're cold," she assessed.
"Am I cold?"
"Yes, and stand offish."
"I fail to see - "
"I mean I can see my dad liking you. You are both amazingly intelligent. I'm not surprised you two could find something to talk about. Novocain and numbing potions wasn't it? What was the outcome anyway?" she asked.
"We concluded that they each have qualities to recommend them. Numbing potions work instantly, while with Muggle Novocain you have to wait for an effect. Unlike Novocain, numbing potions have a stronger more long lasting effect, and are not invasive in application. However, numbing potions can not be used with pregnant women, nor should they be used on children unless there is no alternative. Both of those things do not hold true for Novocain. Numbing potions are also more likely to cause an allergic reaction, and they are more costly to produce," Severus said. He summarized the hour long discussion he and Hermione's father had engaged in.
"Yes, well, at least you were having an interesting discussion. I was cornered and tortured by my mother," Hermione said with distaste.
"Yes, I heard bits of your conversation as well." In a tone exactly like her mother's he said, "Tell me Hermione why aren't you engaged yet, and have you given any thought at all to settling down and starting a family." He smirked. "Ow. It is unacceptable to hit your Professor." He glared warningly, rubbing his upper arm where she just slapped him.
"Luckily you are not my Professor any longer. I do wonder where Severus Snape went though, have you seen him? You know him, the condescending bastard who hates us all, and tries to kill us daily with his snarkiness and scowls," she asked.
"I do believe he was temporarily called away on urgent business. Quite fortunate indeed, as he would not have made a favourable impression on Muggles. Never fear, I have it on good authority that he shall be back very soon, and that he has no plans of future discretionary disappearances. Snarkiness?" he queried.
"Severus Snape concerned with making a good impression on Muggles?" she asked in disbelief.
"Perhaps I was concerned. Then again, perhaps not. Perhaps I was acting on orders from Albus-Who-Lives-To-Make-My-Life-Miserable-Dumbledore," Severus said casually.
"Are you intoxicated?" she asked.
"Not as such," he said clearly. "But I am beginning to think that the drinks your father kept giving me were not as innocuous as they appeared. Insufferable cold. If only I had taken some Pepperup potion I would have had clear sinuses, and could have discerned exactly what was in those glasses."
"Ha! I knew you were being too civil!"
"I have never been civil, and I was under the influence of nothing at your parents house."
"I guess not, we didn't start drinking until just before we left. So, how do you explain my mother then?" she questioned.
"What do you mean explain your mother?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.
"I thought you said you heard our conversation?"
"No, I heard bits of your conversation," he replied in a surprisingly calm tone.
"You are inebriated."
"Unfortunately the calming effects of the drinks your father gave me are just beginning to surface now. It is too bad that they did not have and effect on me at your parents home instead. However, that is in your favour I believe," he added.
"You aren't going to fall, or pass out, or anything are you?" she asked with apprehension.
"No. I have not lost control of my faculties. I am not drunk or incapacitated, nor will I become so unless I partake of something more. I am merely somewhat more relaxed then usual," he said thoughtfully. "Never fear, it will not last. Now that you have attempted to distract me, and failed miserably I might add. What did your mother say?"
"Are you really calm now?" she asked.
"I am practically serene," he returned. "However, that state of mind will not last if you do not answer the question."
"Okay." Hermione hesitated. She knew she would be caught if she tried to lie. He was nowhere near that far gone. "She was assessing you as a potential father for her grandchildren." She managed to tell him this without using her mother's 'H' word.
"It was me she was referring to, when I kept hearing her use the words potential husband in conjunction with you? That makes no sense. Surely she was referring to one of your past suitors. You remember them; Macmillan, or Longbottom, or Finnegan or... Now what are you laughing at?" he asked exasperatedly.
"You didn't believe those rumours did you? That I went out with all those foolish boys?" she asked. When she got no response she went on, "You did! Sorry to disappoint. I went to a dance with Victor, and Ron kissed me once, but it was like kissing a brother. Urgh. One of the girls, I won't tell you which because I don't want her in trouble; started that rumour after Victor and I decided we weren't right for each other. She thought it would make me more popular. She was trying to help. Well, I did get asked out by a few of boys after the rumour started, but not by practically every boy in school."
She put her hands on her hips and looked appraisingly at Severus. "Neville? You actually thought I went out with Neville Longbottom? I mean, he's a sweet boy, but not at all intellectually attractive. Even the ones that have some intellectual potential, Ravenclaws mostly, are immature and stupid. Except Malfoy, he's got intellectual potential and he's no Ravenclaw. However, he's got immaturity down to an art form. And he's physically repulsive, but mostly he's, he's, well, he's, Malfoy. No, not one of the real potentials has a thought in their heads other than sport, and bedsport." She giggled at her play on words. "Hmm, which I am sure I would like, sex that is, but not with someone who can't rub two brain cells together, or is less mature than I was at five. Oh no! Did I just say that to you? Now I know I'm drunk, even if you're not, you liquor holding bastard." Realising that she had voiced all her thoughts aloud, she giggled again.
Severus Snape smirked, "Yes, you did say all that out loud. I will be sure to use it against you in future."
"It's my mother! She does that to me. The only times I ever over indulge in alcohol is when she's getting straight up my nose. The alcohol is a mother buffer." Hermione stumbled and Severus caught her. "Thanks. So, what did you think of the article on the use of potions in combination with experimental charms?"
They made the twenty minute walk from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to Number 12 Grimmauld Place deep in conversation about the latest Potion Masters publication. They managed to have an insightful conversation despite the fact that Severus was unusually serene, and Hermione was a bit tipsy.
The next morning Hermione walked gently down the hallway. She was being very careful to walk softly. She didn't want to jar her aching head. She had her eyes half closed. She was intent on making it to the kitchen and caffeine. She gingerly opened the kitchen door and walked in. She was rushed by Ron and Harry who were having breakfast before they left for the burrow.
"Sure you don't want to come with us 'Mione? It'll be a great time!"
"We won't make you help us with our work, you can just watch!"
Hermione wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused on the tall wizard in black, looking irritatingly fresh. He was leaning back against a counter casually dangling a phial of hangover relief potion from his long fingers.
'Smug bastard,' she thought.
"Hermione?" One of the boys tried to get her attention.
She pushed past the boys and made her way to Severus. "Could I possibly have some of that?" she asked in her most polite tone.
He had slipped the phial into his robe. "Some of what?" He asked with a smirk.
"Never mind. Could this morning get any worse?" she mumbled.
"I got the most interesting letter from your mother this morning," Severus told her with a malicious gleam in his eye.
Harry and Ron stared at that pronouncement.
"Great." Hermione groaned as she sank down at the kitchen table and buried her head in her arms.
Molly Weasley opened the kitchen door and stuck her head in, "Come on you two, Ginny and I are waiting."
"Bye guys," Hermione said without looking up.
Ron and Harry gave each other confused looks, and both bid Hermione goodbye.
Hermione heard something being set down on the table by her head. She slowly looked up and found tea, toast, and the phial of hangover relief potion. Her eyes narrowed and fixed on Professor Snape who was now seated across from her.
"Why?" she asked.
"I wouldn't want to be abducted and have to be responsible for an invalid," he said with a sneer.
"Why?" she asked again.
"I'm concerned about you?" He smirked evilly.
"Why?" she persisted.
"Because you saw fit to force a headache potion on me when I neither asked for, nor wanted your assistance." He punctuated this statement with a withering glare.
"Hmm," she said, and downed the potion. After a minute it began to take effect. She slowly lifted her head to nibble on the toast and sip the tea. "Peppermint," she noted, "thank you."
Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment, before picking up the book he had brought to read.
That afternoon the waiting began.
"This is what you picked up at your parent's? What exactly is all this?" he asked disdainfully.
"Muggle survival equipment. I don't have everything we could need. I mean how could I? We don't know where we'll be. If I'd brought fur, we'd be in a desert; if I'd brought light linen clothes, we be in the Antarctic. So I chose the best I could. Middle of the road all the way. This one's for you. You'll find a canteen, blissfully filled with nothing alcoholic." She grinned. "There is also; a bedroll, rations, first aid stuff, a battery operated torch, matches, and a change of clothes. I mean we don't exactly dress for practicality do we? It's just the basics really, but stuff we might find useful. Albus' scheme sounded suspiciously like survival training to me. I'm glad I have an uncle in the Muggle military."
"You expect me to carry this, this - "
"Field pack. You wear it on your back," she informed him.
Scowling he coldly began, "We will have our wands, we can conjure anything we - "
"And if they are stolen, broken, or lost?" she asked.
"Do not suggest such a thing," he growled.
"Yet it's a possibility," she assured him.
"Perhaps I could bring some of the more essential potions in unbreakable bottles..."
"That's the spirit!"
He scowled at her. "I refuse to act the part of a house elf."
Severus took out his wand and shrank the pack Hermione had given him. He put it in an inner pocket of his robe.
"Much more efficient," he told her smugly.
That night, the waiting continued.
"Ouch!"
"What do you think you are doing on the hallway floor?" Severus hissed down at Hermione, whom he had just almost tripped over.
She gave him her rehearsed excuse, "I thought I heard a commotion, and I was making sure that you were all right. That it hadn't started yet."
"I see." He scrutinized her in the pale light filtering from his open door. "You thought you would come to my rescue by sitting on the floor outside my door. How valiant," his voice dripped sarcastically down on her head.
"Well..." she began hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"Fine! I wanted to be near you. Just in case," she admitted with a deep blush.
Severus just looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he barked, "Come in."
Hermione walked past Severus into his room. "Thank you."
"Fear is a good thing Miss Granger. It makes us tread with caution. Think things through. In this case you have decided that to be caught together might be better than being caught separately. I can see the logic in that, and it is your fear that brought this idea to the fore. Do not confuse fear with weakness. They are very different."
"You know that makes sense." She smiled.
"I am gratified that you concur," he drawled sarcastically. "Take my bed and get some rest."
"I can't take your bed."
"I usually work through the night, so it is of no consequence."
"Couldn't I help you, please?" she asked.
"If you must," he said, giving her a long suffering look.
Hermione knew this meant he would appreciate her help. They did work. They brewed medicinal potions through the night in a comfortable, companionable silence.
Later the next day Severus and Hermione went down to a storeroom on the first floor, and brought an unused cot up to his room. Hermione was very glad that he was allowing her to stay with him, and tonight they could both get some sleep.
Days passed and the waiting dragged on...
Severus Snape and Hermione Granger were reading in his room. This quiet reading together had become a comfortable habit for them over the last few days. Today was different somehow.
"Must you turn the pages so loudly?" he snarked.
"Only if you insist on scratching your Quill like that. I mean really. Don't use so much pressure, and it won't sound like a cat at the door," she huffed back.
...and on...
They were making notes for a potion they were going to try to brew while they waited. He was theorizing, and she was categorizing ingredient variables.
"Must you blow so obnoxiously on your ink. One would think you were trying-"
"Oh, and you're better?" she fairly shrieked. "Flapping your parchment about. Are you drying ink, or signaling ships at sea?"
...and on...
"Would you like some?" she offered. Hermione had just opened a bag of crisps she had brought from her mother's home.
"I think not." He sneered at her food.
Some minutes passed when he said, "Perhaps a change of scenery would be in order. Shall we spend some time in the kitchen tomorrow?"
"Oh, you are hungry. Just not for Muggle food," she said with a knowing smile.
"You are wrong. I am going to prepare Muggle food tomorrow. Real food, not prepackaged preservative packed, flavourless grease."
"You have had crisps before, I wondered."
"So it would seem."
"Why tomorrow, why not now?" she asked.
"I need to have someone bring us the ingredients. Surely you don't believe the kitchen of this house has anything of worth to offer?" he drawled.
...and on...
"It would seem you can appreciate fine food." Severus actually chuckled.
Hermione was seated across from him at the kitchen table of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. An orgasmic look of bliss on her face as she savoured the last bite of her chocolate satin decadence.
Severus couldn't help but stare as she slowly licked the last of the chocolate off her lips.
'I want to lick her lips for her, taste her tongue, delve into her...' His thoughts trailed off as the sensible part of his brain took over. 'No! What am I thinking? What is wrong with me?' he admonished himself.
Hermione had spent the late afternoon chopping and preparing ingredients. Not for a potion, but for the meal Severus prepared for them; strawberry and arugula salad with hazelnut dressing, toasted sesame breadsticks, filet mignon with mustard port sauce, haricots verts echalots, and chocolate satin decadence.
"I have never had such a wonderful dinner in my life," Hermione gushed.
"Hmm, now that I have plied you with food, perhaps you will be more circumspect with your incessant comments and questions?" he asked blandly.
"Not a chance!" She smiled at him over her goblet.
Hermione abandoned all her prepackaged foods and insisted that he cook daily. He didn't think he would ever understand why he complied. Except that it did seem that they had the same appreciation for the, "subtle science and exact art" of food preparation... and ingestion.
...and on...
-
Today they were brewing a potion.
She made progress notes, while he took the first shift of stirring. She reached over and pulled a strand of hair out of Severus' eye, then she tucked it a behind his ear.
He glared menacingly at her. But he said, "Thank you," in a deep whisper.
Hermione convinced herself that she didn't feel him shiver at her touch.
...and on.
That afternoon they were both reclining on Severus' comfortable four poster bed, reading in abject contentment. As the hours passed and the room began to grow dark, Hermione broke the peace.
"Professor?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Professor, I'm sorry but I have to ask."
At that Severus looked up from his book.
"What happens if we are away, and you are summoned by Voldemort?" she asked shakily.
"The Dark Lord will most likely not summon me again until late fall or winter," he said simply, in the vain hope (and he knew the hope was vain) that his answer would satisfy her.
"How do you know that?"
"He is out of the country looking for a mythic Chinese amulet that he believes will enhance his powers," he said.
"He won't find any such thing will he?" she asked.
"No. Albus already has it. The Dark Lord is persistent though, he will stay and continue to look for a very long time. As I say, I estimate late fall or even winter before he returns. He may summon the others out of the country but he expects me to remain and keep an eye on Albus and Potter."
"What happens when you are summoned? I mean what does he do?" she asked.
"He does... different things, depending on his state of mind," Severus answered uncomfortably.
"What does he do if he is in a bad mood, has he hurt you?" she pressed.
"I do not think that is any of your concur - "
"Only if you feel able to talk about it," she interrupted, "but if you can then yes I should hear," she said. "What does he do?"
Just when she was sure he would not answer, he finally began to speak. His voice quiet and unemotional. "It really does all depend. If he is feeling generous he only inflicts the Cruciatus curse, it is his usual tact. He uses it for punishment, and his own enjoyment."
"Does he do this to you every time?" she asked softly.
"Yes."
Hermione reached between them and took his hand in her own. He didn't seem to notice. His thoughts were not in the room.
"Sometimes he allows the Death Eaters to harm each other physically, he takes part in this when he is not otherwise distracted. Other times he has the Death Eaters harm innocents. The worst, the very worst, is the Imperious curse. Some Death Eaters are... reluctant. If he notices he will not allow this reluctance. He forces participation by putting them under the Imperious curse. I would... I prefer the Cruciatus, beatings, and stabbings I endure. Anything, absolutely anything, is better than an Imperious that is so strong you ca not throw it off. I usually warrant all four pleasures," he finished wearily.
He noticed her holding his hand. He spoke with a distinct coldness in his voice as he withdrew his hand brusquely, "I do not require, nor welcome your pity."
"I don't pity you," she said quietly.
"The Dark Lord has yet to use the killing curse on me. Not that it would not be-"
"No! Don't you ever say that! Don't you even think it!" she took both his hands in hers forcefully. She looked directly into his eyes. "I don't pity you," she reiterated. "I appreciate you. There's a difference."
He looked wary, like a trapped animal. She dropped one of his hands and moved her hand to stroke his cheek. He contorted his face into a disdainful sneer, as the self possessed witch continued. "I have come to very much enjoy all the time we have spent together these last few weeks while we've been waiting." She smiled into his eyes. "I have come to realize your value as an individual. I don't pity you. I feel sad that a man I value has repeatedly endured Cruciatus curses, beatings, stabbings, and the Imperious. You have endured all of this silently and without any recognition of the sacrifices you make for us all. Because of how sad it makes me that you suffer I am going to hug you. It is not pity, it is... well it just is."
As he could not seem to use his voice, he glared warningly, dangerously.
Hermione ignored his glare, and wound both her arms around Severus' waist, she drew herself close to him and exerted gentle pressure and held him. She lay her head on his chest. As she breathed in his clean scent she willed her caring to be transferred to him. Willed that he would know that she cared, and accept it.
"You do not know what it is you are wasting your tenderness on," he said in an angry voice, that was heavily tinged with self-deprecation.
She drew back and took his hands in hers again. She looked directly into his eyes. "I know who it is. It is you, Professor Severus Snape. Potions Master. Extremely powerful wizard. Dedicated teacher who keeps his students from harm, even though they are dunderheads who don't deserve it. Condescending Bastard who would never, ever, be caught expressing kindness. Ex Death Eater who perpetuated evil in the past, but who has gone on to do great good. But mostly, mostly, just a man. A talented, utterly brilliant man with a keen intellect and a sharp, if abrasive wit. You. Someone I have come to care about very much, you."
Severus Snape, was immobilized, as surly as if he were under a Freezing Charm. She leaned in and hugged him again. Eventually he allowed his arms to encircle her, and return the gentle pressure.