a/n - I know I took a few liberties with the effects of Veritaserum, I'm afraid, but it made for a better story. To be honest, SS/HG is so far left field from canon I'm not terribly concerned. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Disbelieving of what she had done and everything she had just heard, Hermione left hurriedly for her bedroom immediately after transfiguring her armchair into a bed for Snape. Why had she done that, she asked herself. It had only been a little serum. She hoped that he would be a bit more candid with her about what people had said about her in recent years. She certainly hadn't expected him to have such a strong opinion on the subject.

Guilty and scared, she climbed into bed. Minerva was dead. There were Death Eaters on the loose that might be coming after her. Snape was in the living room. She had plied him with truth serum. He said that he was going to be angry in the morning. She'd definitely had a long day.

The knowledge that Snape cared about her--or at least paid a modicum of attention to her life--was disconcerting. He had never shown any sort of favoritism toward her that she remembered. Maybe she could not see past the gruff exterior when she was younger. Actually, all she recalled was the unpleasant man who was so hard on her in class. Perhaps there were many things that she didn't know. None of the questions swirling through her mind could be readily answered. Hermione rolled onto her side, managing eventually to fall into a fitful sleep.

> > > > > > > > > >

Staring at the bed she had just conjured for him, Snape sat in distress. Miss Granger had drugged him. He certainly was not expected that. How could he not have recognized the effects of Veritaserum! What was distressing him most were all the things he had said. That not only had he said them, but also that she knew they were true. Damn it, he thought calmly. Maybe he could go Obliviate her in her sleep, but he felt sleepy and disoriented from the serum. Resigned to an awkward morning, he disrobed and climbed into bed, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to her. Somehow, he thought, words would not be enough to make her forget what he had inadvertently revealed.

> > > > > > > > > >

The sunlight hit Hermione's face, waking her earlier than she had hoped. The thought of staying in bed, or Apparating somewhere very far away, occurred to her but she did not want to start her life all over again--again. She had done that once already. Besides, she thought dryly, he'd find me. Deciding the day was not going to go away, she got up and ventured cautiously into the living room, preparing herself for the imminent outburst that she fully deserved. She certainly had not prepared for what she saw.

Snape was asleep in the bed she had conjured for him. It appeared that he had been under the covers at some point during the night, but he had kicked them to the foot of the bed. There before her, in all their glory, were the naked back, butt, and legs of Severus Snape.

Still bleary from sleep, Hermione could not stop her eyes from wandering. It was nothing other than sensory overload. She had only ever seen the man's face and hands. She could not even imagine him in a pair of shorts, let alone naked. She did allow herself to think that if she had tried to imagine, she would not have imagined him like this. The heavy black robes he always wore hid an extraordinary body. Lean and athletic, his broad shoulders set off a well-defined back that fell to a trim waist. He was not skinny, by any means, but he was put together very well. She was admiring his backside, taut and shapely, when it happened.

The doorbell rang, making her jump. Who was stopping by at this hour? Flustered, she ran to the bed and grabbed the blankets to cover him. Before she got them past his legs, he turned onto his back, thankfully still asleep. She averted her eyes, but entirely too late. Blushing, and trying to keep the grin off her face, she finished covering him up.

The doorbell rang again, reminding her she still needed to answer the door. Still in her robe, she went to see who was disturbing her interesting morning. Checking through the peephole, she was stunned to see Dumbledore. Throwing open the door, she flung herself into his outstretched arms.

"It is so good to see you Headmaster! I am so sorry," she cried into his chest.

"Me too Hermione, me too," he leaned back and studied her. "You have not changed a bit."

"Please come in! Do you want some coffee?" she asked.

"That sounds splendid," he replied as he followed her into the living room where they both stopped abruptly in their tracks. Snape had mercifully remained covered where it counted, but his bare leg and chest were now visible.

She looked up at Dumbledore who looked to be suppressing a most powerful grin.

"Headmaster," she stammered, "this isn't at all what it looks like."

"I know," he said, grinning wide. "Do you have a camera?"

"What?" she asked.

"I would love to have proof of this because no one would ever believe me if I told them." He chuckled deeply, bending over and slapping his knee. "Severus by boy, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Hermione blushed as she confessed to him the story of the previous night.

"That makes sense. The serum can leave the taker feeling drunk. He will probably have quite the headache when he wakes. Be prepared for that," Dumbledore said, grinning at Hermione. "Didn't I hear you mention something about coffee?"

"Oh," she said, running to the kitchen.

She returned quickly with two steaming mugs. Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Is it safe?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes…I feel so bad," she affirmed.

"He'll get over it," he stated soothing, but sobered quickly. "We have other things to discuss. I'd hoped Severus would be conscious, but it's best to let him sleep. I will have to rely on you to fill him in."

Hermione nodded. Dumbledore continued, "We've found Theodore Nott. He was not too difficult to find. I believe Draco and Lucius took him with them as a diversion. We have no information on their whereabouts or Fenrir Greyback as of yet, and I want to impress on both of you to be extremely careful."

Hermione nodded again, "Of course, Headmaster."

"I really should be getting back," Dumbledore said. "I will let you know as soon as I have any other news."

"Thank you," she said quietly before adding, "Headmaster? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied.

Thinking back on Snape's words from the previous night, she asked with embarrassment, "Did Snape really volunteer to come here?"

"Yes," he answered, pausing to sniff his cup before setting it onto the table. He smiled, "Just checking."

Hermione laughed as she walked with him to the door. He stepped just outside the door and gave her one last encouraging smile before he disappeared with a small pop. She went back into the living room, trying to decide whether to let Snape sleep in or just wake him up and get it out of the way.

The image of his nude form was still fresh in her mind. Now she had two things to be embarrassed about in front of him. Of course, she didn't have to tell him she saw him. Yes, she decided, best to keep that information to herself. Tentatively shaking him, she hoped that maybe he'd forgotten about the other thing as well.

> > > > > > > > > >

Snape opened his eyes to blinding sunlight and a throbbing headache. Rubbing his face, he sat up trying to figure out where all that infernal sunlight was coming from. Like a movie playing back in fast forward through his mind, he remembered the events of the night before and that he was in the middle of Hermione Granger's living room. The only thing he failed to remember--or realize--was that he was not wearing any clothes.

Taking his hands down from his face, he turned to see the anxious Miss Granger staring back holding a cup out to him. Scooting back against the headboard, he carefully took the cup from her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep. "Is it safe?"

"Yes. Sorry," she said quietly.

"Good." He took a sip of the hot liquid, reveling in the heat as it helped awaken his blunted senses. "Now, if you don't mind me asking, what in the hell was that all about?"

She sounded rushed and fearful as she spoke. "I am so sorry. I just wanted to know if people were still talking about all that silliness. I know they still were not too long ago and I didn't think you would be honest with me any other way."

"So, you think I am a liar," he said smoothly.

"No, not at all," she said. "I thought you would make some snide remark about how my personal life is none of your business and that I was naïve to think you would even care about such inane things."

He raised an eyebrow in accord. "You were right," he paused, "but that was my choice to make, not yours to make for me."

"I know," she said miserably. "I feel terrible."

"You should…" he said. Her eyes widened before he added, "…just forget about it. It is not important in the grand scheme of things."

She released a deep sign. "Thank you." Before he could stop her, she said, "Here, let me get you another cup."

She reached for his cup faster than he could move away. As soon as she touched his skin, his body writhed with a searing, white-hot pain coursing through every vein and every nerve. As he turned from her, the cup fell from his hands, shattering against the wood floor.

"I'm so sorry," she said in the confusion.

"It is all right Miss Granger," he managed to say through the discomfort. "I will get it."

Before thinking about it, pain still singing in his brain, he stood up. His senses numb from the sudden shock of standing, he barely registered the look of embarrassment on her face. It wasn't until he tried to reach in his pocket for his wand that he realized he did not have any pockets on at the moment. Utterly mortified, he dove back under the covers.

"Miss Granger," he asked, voice muffled by the blankets, "could you possibly give me a moment alone?"

She did not reply, but he heard her hurried footsteps retreat from the room. Refusing to emerge until he heard the door of her bedroom close, he moved quickly to the couch where he had left his clothes the night before. This had to be the most bizarre twenty-four hours in his lifetime. Actually, he realized, it had hardly been twelve.

Finally dressed and still feeling discomfited, Snape called Hermione out of hiding. A few moments later, she peered around the corner into the living room. She looked surprised, probably because he had already returned the bed back to its state as an armchair. Obviously hesitant and dressed herself, she walked into the room. Snape watched her from the couch as she walked into the kitchen, returning with another cup of coffee. She sat it down in front of him and sat guardedly in the armchair across from him that she had occupied the previous night.

"I believe that I forgot to say 'Good Morning' earlier," Snape said frostily. "It is a shame that it would have been a lie." He picked up his coffee and took a sip.

Hermione was watching him cautiously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"What was that all about?" she asked softly.

"What was what?" he retorted.

"Whatever it was that happened when I touched you," she said quietly. "You acted like you were on fire."

He looked around the room, searching for something to pull him out of this situation. There were few people in the entire world he wanted to talk to about this with and Miss Granger was certainly not one of them.

Finally, he said harshly, "That is because I felt as though I were." She looked about to speak but he stopped her. "I am not answering your questions, so you can forget them now. What I will tell you is that I had the misfortune of ingesting a potion that causes the same effects as the Cruciatus curse when I come into contact with another person." He paused. She opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly before he continued. "I have been like this since the fall of Voldemort and I have been working on an antidote ever since. Clearly, I have been unsuccessful thus far."

> > > > > > > > > >

Shocked by what Snape had just said, she didn't have to try hard not to speak. There were a thousand questions churning through her mind, but she didn't dare ask them while he had that threatening look on his face. After the embarrassment of the cup and then the nakedness, she wasn't sure if he would ever stop looking at her like that. She returned the stare, resolutely hoping he would elaborate, but instead he stood with his coffee and headed toward the large picture window that looked out onto the Chicago skyline.

While he stared out the window, she was trying to grasp and categorize the questions she needed him to answer. Without even having to think about the why, she was already planning to help in any way that she could. She had a state of the art potions lab and almost every ingredient they might ever need. Snape was brilliant, but perhaps if she worked with him, they could solve this. Somewhere deep down, the part of Hermione that loved a challenge was quickly rising to the surface. Suddenly she remembered that, in her confusion, she had forgotten to tell Snape about Dumbledore's visit.

As politely as she could, she said, "Sir, Dumbledore was here this morning."

Snape turned quickly at her words. "Albus was here? Why didn't you wake me?" he asked heatedly.

"I told him what I did and he thought it best to let you sleep." She then recounted to him, verbatim, what Dumbledore had said.

"Of course, they took Nott with them so he could divert the attention of the Aurors," he said in astonishment. "Why didn't I see it?"

"Sir," she started timidly, "there is nothing you could have done."

Ignoring her he said, "Damn it! I should never have left."

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling somehow responsible.

He looked at her with mingled anger and concern. "This is in no way your fault." He started pacing in front of the window, his face closed in thought.

Reeling from his outburst, she forced her thoughts back to Snape's situation. There had to be something that she could do to help, but he had to give her some specifics before that would even be possible. Snape was still pacing.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"What?" he replied absently.

She repeated the question a little louder, "Are you hungry?"

He nodded, "Yes, a little."

She returned the nod before she said, "Let's go get something to eat. Then I need to stop by the lab for a moment." If he would not volunteer the information then perhaps Hermione could coax it out of him over breakfast.

Snape followed her silently out of the building and down the street. It was a short walk to Ledbetter Street, the Chicago equivalent of Diagon Alley. She stopped in front of Mama's Home-style Kitchen. This was Hermione's favorite restaurant because it reminded her of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. She quickly chased away that thought and entered with Snape close at her heels. They found a booth in the back of the restaurant and looked over the menu.

"Do you eat here often?" Snape asked coolly.

"Whenever I get the chance," she answered.

He sneered before saying, "It is a miracle you are still alive."

They ordered, Hermione choosing the biscuits with sausage gravy and Snape deciding upon a fresh fruit platter. That must be how he stayed so fit, she thought.

They sat in silence while waiting for their meal. Their food arrived quickly, both remaining quiet. They were almost finished when Hermione decided that it was now or never.

"Sir I need to ask you something, but you have to promise not to get mad."

He slid his glass of orange juice across the table, staring at her expectantly. She laughed before saying, "I thought I would try the good old fashioned way first."

"Suit yourself." He took his glass back and drained it in one gulp.

After taking a deep breath, she dove right in, "How did you come to imbibe the potion?"

He regarded her from behind his hooded eyes, apparently considering what to say. Finally, he spoke so smoothly that she would have thought he was enjoying himself, "That is none of your business and I am under no obligation to answer, but I promise you I will be checking everything I drink from now on if you have in any way helped prepare it."

She sighed--this was going to be harder than she thought.

> > > > > > > > > >

Snape finished eating in silence. He was not about to let her into his world, not this part of it anyway. She had already managed to get more out of him in one evening than anyone had in his life with the help of that damned serum.

He watched her eating, wondering what she was thinking in that head of hers. What ideas did she have about his situation? She was indeed brilliant. It was quite possible that she might hold that one piece of knowledge he needed to break the effects of the curse. One problem remained, to find out what she was thinking he would have to tell her the details of his predicament. This meant trusting her.

Snape sipped his coffee, thinking he was being foolish and irrational, but he decided to tell her anyway.

Hermione's eyes shot up from her plate as he spoke, "After the final battle when I returned to my rooms, I poured a glass of scotch to celebrate. From what I have found out since, Voldemort discovered my allegiance to the Order. He sent someone to pollute my favorite scotch with some potion while I was away that night. Luckily, he was destroyed before he could see his plan had worked, but I have still had to live with this for the last six years."

Hermione was gaping at him. "Did you save any of the scotch?"

"Yes. There is only a small amount left after all the testing I have done over the years. I have so far been at a loss as to how the hell he made it or how it works."

Apparently thinking hard, she was chewing on her bottom lip. Brow furrowed and holding her fork, still full of biscuit and gravy just inches from her mouth. She sat like that for almost a full minute. At last, she put the food in her mouth, chewing slowly, but did not relax her forehead. Another full minute passed.

Eyes suddenly wide she said, "You can touch your own skin, but not someone else's."

Thinking that was obvious, he shook his head yes.

Speaking quickly, she said, "So the potion must have been directed at the nervous system, not the muscle or skeletal system. It may not even have anything to do with the skin. It could be embedded in the sense of touch! If someone were to create a potion that attacked only the part of the brain in charge of certain senses and functions, obviously through the blood stream, then they could do anything they wanted with it. They could take something harmless, like a shrinking solution for example, send it directly to the optic chiasma and cause blindness. Think about it, if you touch your own skin, it just doesn't feel the same as when someone else does. I can touch my feet, but if someone else does, I can't stand it. If we can isolate the part of the brain they were targeting then I know I can create something to reverse the effects."

Snape listened with rapt attention. She really was brilliant.

"Sir, did you catch all that?" she asked. "Sometimes I tend to ramble."

"Yes, I understood it all," he said trying to contain his excitement. "I must admit, I had not considered the brain as the target."

Hermione smiled.

"Perhaps, after you do whatever it is at the lab, we can discuss this in more depth?" he asked.

"Sir, you are the reason I need to go to the lab." She smiled again.

> > > > > > > > > >

Sitting across from Snape in her lab was truly unreal. Hermione told him that this was her lab and she did things her way, and he would do best to stay out of her way. She was teasing, but he seemed to have taken the advice to heart. It was a bizarre reversal of roles, her lecturing him while he listened intently. At first, he had been as stiff as usual. After the first hour or so, he leaned his head on a fist and watched her closely as she prepared the various ingredients she would need for the first potion. It was disconcerting to have him study her, but he hadn't yet offered any advice or criticism, so she must have been doing a respectable job in his eyes. It was another hour before the first potion was ready.

"Okay, this is a diagnostic analgesic. After you drink it, I will have to touch you. With any luck, it will take the edge off the pain. Once the flare dies down, you should be able to feel exactly where the origin of the pain started, which should be the affected area of the brain. You should also be able to name it. We'll find out soon if I'm wrong."

She handed him the glass full of the yellow mixture. He downed it in a couple of gulps, successfully hiding any distaste he might have experienced. He walked around the edge of the table, holding out his hand.

"Ready?" Hermione asked.

"As I will ever be," Snape replied quietly.

She touched his hand. His face contorted with pain, his eyes closed, and he doubled over clutching his head. No matter how much pain he may have been in, he didn't make a single sound. After a few seconds, he straightened up, but he was still holding the sides of his head.

"Here. Right here," he whispered pointing at his head. "In the bottom of the midbrain."

"That is fantastic!" Hermione exclaimed. "Now we know where to start."

He shuffled back to the stool across from her, sinking heavily onto it. She handed him another glass, though this time it was full of a runny brown liquid.

"For my headache?" he almost whispered, taking it, and downing it even faster than he had the other potion.

"I'd like to get started on the reversal potion right away, if you don't mind," she said. "It's still early."

"Be my guest." His eyes caught hers and she felt oddly gratified by his stare. He cleared his throat before he added softly, "Thank you for helping me."

> > > > > > > > > >

The ache in his head beginning to subside, Snape could pay closer attention to Hermione's progress with the next potion. Within thirty minutes, she had prepared all the ingredients and had mapped out the progress so that he could follow her notes while she worked.

Her prowess in the lab was impressive. Her hands moved deftly from procedure to procedure. She never hesitated, working with a fluidity he had only ever recognized in himself. All the movements and the procedures that she followed seemed second nature. He allowed himself the satisfaction of knowing that he taught her well, though she deserved all the credit for learning it.

Two more hours passed, Snape enthralled by her toil. He could not tell if she was aware of him watching her. Then of course, she must, because he had been sitting there for more hours than he could recall watching nothing but her. Suddenly she stopped, a satisfied smirk on her face, and started clearing up the lab, leaving a cauldron set just below a rolling boil.

"That's it," she said. "That's all I can do today." She looked at him triumphantly. "If this works--like I think it should--then by tomorrow you should be able to touch anyone you want."

Snape grinned without know it, not even attempting to stifle it. Hermione grinned back.

"What?" she asked.

"If this works, you have solved--in one day--what I have spent the last six years working on."

She giggled. "That ought to teach you to keep your mouth shut about these kinds of things."

The smile still settled firmly on his lips, he said, "I never thought anyone would be superior to me at potion making. It looks to me as though I have some fierce competition."

Obviously taken back by the compliment, she did not say a word. All she did was turn her head slightly to one side, narrowing her eyes, a curious smirk turning the corners of her mouth. She looked as though she were trying to read fine print. As soon as her look struck him, he felt an unusual weightlessness in the pit of his stomach and a stirring somewhere below his waist that he was trying desperately to disregard.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Are you doing anything special this evening, Miss Granger?"

She intensified her look, which in turn intensified his stirring. "Are you asking me out?"

"Yes--" he paused to see her reaction, which was a mixture of shock and curiosity, "--to celebrate your invention of a diagnostic potion within the span of two hours, and our hopeful success with this next potion tomorrow. What do you say?"

She smiled cunningly, "What would be lovely."