A/N: Own nothing, and it sucks!

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...I know what it's like when memories make you wince

...And love letters read like obituaries

...And photo albums are the books of the dead

...I need no reminders, no more reminders

...I'll forget the past and lay it to rest

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Snape looked to his left and right once he reached the end of the hallway, but had no idea which way she had turned.

'Women,' he thought bitterly. They sure knew their stuff... especially when it comes to making you feel guilty..

Severus wondered whether he ought to try and find her. But the idea of him going to comfort a student- a Gryffindor nonetheless, was unheard of. At least for him.

Cursing, he made his way to the Headmaster's office.

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" The thing is, I don't know what to do about it Albus," Snape said, bringing a hand to his still aching forehead. "The girl can't- and shouldn't- be allowed to meddle with the Weasley boy without punishment. What was I to tell her? That she could carry on while I simply look away? You know as well I as do that detentions and docking points means nothing to them."

Dumbledore took his fingers off his chin, where he had them a moment before, deep in thought. He didn't answer immediately, buying time glancing out his window. Snape pressed on.

" Surely...surely...you're not going to let her proceed with the Headship? After her outrageous actions?"

Dumbledore looked away from the window, and gave Snape a look of sympathy.

" It means the world to her," he said softly. Snape made to interrupt, but Albus held up his hand lightly. " Miss. Granger is in a state of shock Severus. Madame Pomfrey contacted me moments before yourself. It seems Miss. Granger has broken the school record time run from the dungeons to her ward." his beard twitched, as if he was about to smile.

" Albus, she -"

" -has made a mistake," said Dumbledore calmly. He again looked out the window. " We all make mistakes Severus."

There was a pregnant pause. He turned and looked at Snape over his glasses.

" We all deserve second chances."

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Closing the door to the ward of the hospital wing quietly, Hermione dried her eyes on her sleeve. Madame Pomfrey had given her a Calming Draught, and although she had no more tears running down her red face, and breathing wasn't such a hard task anymore, her insides were tearing her apart.

' Maybe I should go to the library and just study for a half hour before it closes,' Hermione thought. It was what she was planning to do anyway. She certainly didn't want to go and see Ron. Infact, she didn't really want to see anyone.

As she turned the corner she walked straight into something hard and fell backwards. At first she thought it was the wall, but she saw a pair of black shoes in front of her, leading up to black robes. She didn't need to guess who it was that was wearing black so close to the holidays.

" Sorry Professor," she said and made to get up. But Snape bent down and crouched in front of her. Shocked, she remained sitting on the dirty floor.

"Sir?" she asked. He was looking at her strangely, with a far way look in his eyes. As if he seemed stunned to find her roaming the halls.

"I thought," he said quietly. " that the Head Girl is suppose to be watching her common room?"

" B-but-"

"I've changed my mind Miss. Granger," he said quickly, as if spitting poison from his mouth. "But if you make one more mistake, however, I will take great pleasure in melting the badge in front of you." he stood up to his full height. Hermione felt rather foolish still lying on the floor.

She made to get up, and surprisingly, Snapes hand had shot out to help her. She looked in his eyes and he said impatiently "Take a walk with me." It wasn't so much a request as an order.

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"C'mon Ron, it couldnt've been that bad," said Harry shaking off his cloak as he approached "his" chair by the fire.

" Harry- you should have seen the look in his eyes-"

" Which one? The I'm-going-to-kill-you look, the test-me look, or the famous How-can-I-expel-you-today? look?"

" The I'm-going-to-take-away-your-prefect-and-Head-girl-badges look."

" He didn't..."

" No- but he bloody well should have, and could have, he was in such a fit of rage- the bastard choked me! And Hermione still hasn't come back yet."

Harry suddenly looked up from the flames of the fire at Ron.

" She hasn't?"

" No- but she'll be alright." Though the look on his face told Harry he was thinking something completely different.

" What- you didn't say with her?" he asked in a would-be-calm voice, but he sounded pretty apprehensive.

" Look- Snape said he just wanted a word.. I didn't want to be there when the git made her crack and tell about the two of us."

Harry looked back into the fire.

" Anyway, how was Hagrid's?"

" He wasn't there. Probably with Grawp or something. I didn't fancy waiting about forever."

They sat for a few minutes in silence before Dean came up to them asking if they want to play a game of wizard chess.

" Sure," Harry said, but Ron shook his head. He knew better than anyone else not to play chess when your mind was off in thought...and boy was his mind off in thought. Where was she?

Ron stared into the fire until it died down and became low-lit embers. Harry approached him, yawning, around midnight and asked if he was coming along. Again, Ron shook his head.

" I'm going to wait for her to come back."

" Alright," said Harry laughing, " but you know she's not gonna want to talk about it. She'll probably come in, tired and PMSing, and tell you 'we'll talk about it tomorrow'."

Ron sighed and looked at his feet. " I guess you're right. I'll be up in a minute."

Harry left and Ron, once again, turned his attention to the weak coals still burning in the fire. He had no intention of going upstairs to bed.

Shivering, he walked over to the largest couch, and pulled the Gryffindor banner ( which was resting on its back) around himself as he laid down. He'd wait here all night if he had to.

For a few minutes he stared out the closet window as it began to snow. The soft flurries worked there magic, and calmed the uneasy knot in his stomach. Within moments, he fell into a uncomfortable sleep, scarcely wondering why he was even sleeping on the couch in the first place.