Author's Note: I am SO SORRY about the delay! I was in Vegas the weekend before last for my cousin's wedding, and when I updated the story last weekend, FanFiction lost the most recent chapter! I don't know what happened. Hopefully it's working again okay. I think updates now will be Monday nights. Again, so sorry for the delay, I still exist, I promise.

Chapter Seven

Severus woke up slowly, stretched, looked at the clock on the wall opposite his bed. Ten-thirty! I don't think I've slept this late since… probably the last time I went to bed drunk. He didn't really want to think about that, though.

He glanced at his bedside table, wondering why the hula girl alarm hadn't gone off, but noticed it was already a cube of hematite. Either I was still drunk when I transfigured it so I don't remember doing it, or I was too tired to wake up fully so I don't remember doing it. Both options unnerved him slightly; he didn't know how much he'd drunk last night, and he was usually a light sleeper, so sleeping through doing a spell was very strange.

He sat up quickly and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Two thoughts hit him simultaneously: When did I move from the floor in front of the fire to my bed? and Dear Merlin my head! His hangover hit him hard. It felt as if tiny dwarves with tiny picks and shovels were mining for diamonds in his brain. Also, the giant squid had apparently moved from the lake to his stomach and was now trying to crawl up his throat. As he ran to the bathroom to throw up the meager contents of his stomach, he realized how sore his body was from sleeping on the floor all night. Or most of the night, it seemed.

After wiping his mouth and brushing his teeth he trudged back to bed and slept another half hour. When he woke up, he vomited once more, this time not quite making it to the toilet. Disgusted with himself, he vanished the mess with his wand, brushed his teeth again, and decided to find out what shape the living room was in. Not wanting to get dressed yet, but feeling a little chilly in just his shorts, he pulled on a simple black bathrobe and that tied at his waist, then opened the door to the rest of his apartment.

What he saw, he wasn't expecting. The quilts and pillows were not in a pile in front of the fireplace but folded and stacked neatly on a chair. The crystal shot glass had been washed and was in the liquor cabinet with the almost empty bottle of Ogden's. The green notebook was closed and sitting on the table by his armchair. But worst of all, Dobby the house-elf, dressed in at least five pairs of socks and what looked like old swimming trunks, was setting out Severus' lunch on his desk. A bowl of stew sat on a silver tray along with a mug of tea, a napkin and a spoon. When he heard the door open, Dobby jumped nervously, causing the tray, which he was leviatating onto the desk, to rattle violently.

"Professor Snape, sir," the elf stuttered as the tray landed with a thud, "Dobby was not expecting sir to be up so soon."

"What do you want?" growled Severus, tightening the sash on his robe. No one during his teaching career at Hogwarts had ever seen him less than fully dressed.

"I is bringing sir his lunch. Also…" The house-elf trailed off into silence, rubbing the top of his bald head nervously. "Also I is…"

"Out with it, elf!" Severus yelled. The tiny dwarves in his head began mining again with renewed vigor, so he decided not to yell any more that morning. Luckily his quiet-as-death whisper got even more of an effect than shouting.

"Well, Professor Snape, sir, I is wanting to… wanting to… wanting to check on you."

"Why would you feel the need to 'check on me'?" Severus asked in the aforementioned whisper.

"Well, sir," Dobby whispered confidentially, "Dobby knows Professor Snape has been drinking. Dobby knows about the drinking sir, yes, he knows. Dobby's friend Winky has a drinking problem also—"

"Also?" Severus roared, forgetting his no-yelling rule. "Are you implying that I have a drinking problem, elf?"

"Well, sir, Dobby does not mean no disrespect, sir, but after Dobby came with sir's breakfast this morning and moved sir to his bed—"

"You moved me to my bed?"

"Yes, sir, and turned the beautiful alarm clock that the great wizard, Dumbledore, gave to you into the shiny rock you like. Is sir angry at poor Dobby?"

In fact "sir" was not angry at Dobby; he was quite grateful the house-elf had put him in his bed and shut off his horrid alarm clock. However, Severus was embarrassed that someone, even a house-elf, had seen him passed out drunk on the floor in front of the fire. And for Severus, embarrassed was worse than angry. Embarrassed went way past angry.

"Of course I'm angry, elf!" he yelled in a whisper. "You have no right to meddle in my private business! Now get out of my sight! And don't say a word of this to anyone or else I'll—"

"Yes, sir, Dobby understands, sir," said the house-elf, bowing and nodding. "But Dobby is a paid house-elf, now, thanks to the great Hermione Granger, and Dobby… Dobby was wondering if sir might—"

Severus silenced him with a violent gesture. I can't escape that girl! Severus thought. She's bloody everywhere! "If you are suggesting I bribe you, I am suggesting you get the hell out of my rooms and never say a word about any of this to anyone. Otherwise some nasty potion might find its way into your evening pumpkin juice, and that would be very unfortunate indeed." He was rarely above a bit of threatening.

Dobby quaked with fear. "Yes, sir, not a word, sir, Dobby understands, Professor Snape, sir. Dobby will be going now." With a loud crack the house-elf was gone.

Thank Merlin, Severus thought. He sat at his desk and inhaled the delicious scent of the stew, enjoying the rich aroma of beef and vegetables.

And promptly threw up again.

x.x.x

Hermione got up from the armchair and shook her head to try and clear it of the strange dreams she'd had. When that didn't work, she massaged her temples. That didn't work either and she was contemplating banging her head against a wall when she decided she needed to get a grip. It wasn't that bad, she told herself. Just… odd. Definitely odd. More than odd, wrong! Why on earth would I dream about… that? Ugh! She shook her head once more just in case that would dislodge the disturbing images, but it didn't. Oh well, better get going.

After straightening her white bathrobe and gathering the few things she'd brought with her last night, she headed to the far wall of the Head Girl's private rooms. On it was a painting the size of a large door. As with all paintings in Hogwarts, the image on the canvas moved; however, this was a very special picture. It showed her dorm room and everything in it: three four-poster beds with dark red velvet hangings, three armoires, three nightstands and a small table with three chairs around it for studying. The picture was also enchanted to show Hermione what was going on in the room. She watched for a moment as Lavender finished dressing and Parvati fixed her hair. When both girls had left for breakfast, she closed her eyes, took a breath, and stepped through the painting into her room. She came out in the exact spot she had left the room the night before: next to the bedpost with the magic carved rose.

She dressed quickly in blue jeans and a maroon pullover jumper, and then hurried down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast. She didn't see Harry or Ron in the common room and figured they were already eating. She glanced at her watch and thought, No wonder they're not here! It's nine-thirty! Although she slept like a log, she never was one to sleep in late. How weird.

Ron and Harry were indeed in the Great Hall, but they certainly hadn't waited to eat until she arrived. They were both on their third helping of waffles. Hermione took a couple and drenched them in warm syrup. She was starving; she'd been too uneasy at supper last night to eat much. She had caught Professor Snape staring at her three times!

"Didn't see you come back from Snape's last night," Ron said with his mouth full.

Hermione jumped at his name. "I was really tired and just wanted to go to bed," she lied. She didn't want to tell her friends she'd been kicked out of Professor Snape's classroom a second time.

"Well you sure slept late enough today," Ron said. Harry kicked him under the table. "What?"

"You okay, Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione beamed inside; Harry could always detect a problem.

"I'm fine. Just… thinking about the N.E.W.T.s." She knew talk of studying would shut the boys up, and it did, though Harry gave her an uncertain look. She grinned at him, and he seemed satisfied, for he returned to his meal.

After breakfast the three Gryffindors returned to the common room and Hermione made the boys get some homework out of the way. She knew they wouldn't do it after dinner; they'd be too tired from their evening Quidditch practice. After working for an hour and a half they took a walk around the grounds. A few brave souls were ice skating on the frozen lake, but when the giant squid shot up from the bottom and dislodged one end of the ice the skaters got off in a hurry. They visited Hagrid before lunch and listened to him tearily tell the latest news of Norbert, his former pet dragon. Charlie was taking good care of him and wrote Hagrid monthly updates from Romania.

Refusing his last offer of homemade treacle fudge, Hermione, Ron and Harry said goodbye to Hagrid and went back to the castle for lunch. When they finished eating, Ron and Harry went down to the Quidditch field and Hermione headed back to Gryffindor tower.

Her dream had been haunting her all day. She thought if she wrote it down it might get out of her head and stay on the paper. She took a rarely-used blue notebook from the bottom drawer of her dresser, grabbed a pot of ink and a quill from her bag, and then climbed onto her bed and drew the drapes around her for privacy. She wasn't much of a journal person, but occasionally she felt the need to take her thoughts and feelings out and examine them to come up with a logical solution to a problem, or at least a decent conclusion to a particular train of thought.

I had a weird dream last night (she wrote). There was a party in the Great Hall, but I left it. No one would ask me to dance. No one would even talk to me. I was standing alone outside in the snow, just beyond the glow of the windows, when I felt someone come up behind me. He was tall and dark. Not particularly handsome, but he made me feel… safe. Yes, safe. I didn't turn around, didn't even move, but I knew who it was. He stood right behind me, and I could feel such intense warmth from him, heating me all down my back, the backs of my arms and legs. Then he wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in warmth, and rested his chin on the top of my head. I felt the most incredible sensation between my legs, like the most intense orgasm. He whispered something comforting to me then, I don't know what it was. "Everything will be okay" or "You'll be fine." No. No, now that I really think about it, he said "I'm here now, don't be afraid. You're safe." I became aware then of dark robed figures with white faces surrounding us, coming closer. They'd been there for a while. The light from the windows of the castle disappeared. I was afraid, but in a distant way. I knew he was there with me, keeping me warm, keeping me safe. I felt… loved.

All of a sudden we were in a dark room, lit only with a few candles. We were lying in bed and his arms were still wrapped around me, keeping me warm. Only now I was facing him. I looked up and saw his face. I'd known it was him all along, but seeing him made it all the more real. It was Professor Snape. I realized we were both naked. It was like I was above us in bed, looking down, but in bed too, feeling everything he did to me. I saw every inch of myself, exposed, but he was more indistinct. I mean, I've never seen a man naked before. So the down-there area was blurry.

And he just held me, kissed my forehead, stroked my hair, looked into my eyes. And I felt so safe, so warm and safe and loved. It was peaceful. That was all.

Hermione read back over what she'd just written, then started writing again.

Obviously this comes from thinking about Professor Snape before I fell asleep yesterday night. I let my mind wander and it went a little too far. The part where he stood right behind me was just like when I was working in his classroom, although I didn't feel any warmth from him in real life. The white-faced figures were Death Eaters. I've known Professor Snape was a spy against them since Harry told us he saw the Dark Mark on his arm, so that's where that part came from. It's strange that I felt so peaceful through it all, though. I never thought about Professor Snape as a protector.

Also, we were both outside alone. I know that besides Harry and Ron I don't really have any friends, and Professor Snape is pretty much alone as well. We have that in common, I guess, not really fitting in with anyone.

Then we were in his bed together, naked. I know it was his bed, not just a bed. I don't know where that came from. I guess from wondering about his body last night. But that feeling between my legs…! Amazing! I've pleasured myself before and know what it's like, but I've never felt like that. And Professor Snape made me feel like that just by putting his arms around me! His warm, safe arms… Very strange.

If I'm going to discuss him like this, it feels odd to call him "Professor." His name is Severus Snape. Severus.

She said it out loud, quietly. "Severus." She liked how his name felt in her mouth.

Well, I'm going to have to see Severus Tuesday night, so I'd better stop thinking of him as a lover. Merlin! Severus Snape, my lover. Erg.

He did feel so good though. Too bad he's so much older than me.

x.x.x

Severus had finally managed to eat most of the stew and drink two mugs of tea. He had

apparently finished vomiting, but his head was still pounding. He considered taking something for his migraine, but felt the need to punish himself for his ludicrous behavior last night. What was I thinking, getting so drunk? Over Hermione Granger, no less. Severus, you idiot! You deserve every bit of what you've gone through since you've woken up. Even the bloody house-elf.

He sat in his armchair after charming the quilts and pillows to rearrange themselves on his bed. Vaguely remembering writing something in his green notebook last night, he read back over the contents of the first page. Well, at least it was nothing too terrible, he thought after he finished. However, I don't remember drawing this picture at the bottom.

The image was in silver ink; Severus had written in black. He didn't even know what it was. It was a long thin cone shape, the pointed end aiming at the top left of the page and the base at the bottom right. There were diagonal lines across it, so if the image was three-dimensional there would be a single line spiraling around the shape.

What on earth is this? It's too long to be a student's hat, too thick to be a wand. And what's that line spiraling around it? I definitely did not draw this; I don't even have silver ink. I'll bet anything Albus gave me an enchanted book. So the book drew it? Why? What does it mean?

He mentally inventoried everything in his rooms, but came up with nothing even slightly resembling the drawing. Next he went over food and drink, utensils, magical items… nothing. What else? It doesn't look like a character from a foreign language, magical or Muggle. A wand, a potion… A potion ingredient! It's not a plant, nor an animal… An animal… It's a unicorn horn! But why did the book draw it for me?

Well, he thought, reverting to his Potions Master mindset, unicorn horn is usually ground or grated. It's difficult to acquire and is used in potions requiring a blurring between reality and fantasy, such as Love Potions, Confusing Concoctions, and Sweet Dreams Syrup. Merlin's shorts! He sat bolt upright, ignoring the effect this had on his headache. Something went wrong with the Sweet Dreams Syrup Hermione made! Severus leapt up and began pacing in his usual track. Obviously she added too much of it. But she never ruins potions. And it was only half-done before she stormed out. After she left I finished it… I must have added the unicorn horn again! I took a double dose of it! No wonder the effects of the potion have lasted this long, even when I was awake. That explains the "visions."

Severus knew how to remedy his problem now. Going back through the last week in his mind, he made sure the Sweet Dreams Syrup was the last potion he'd taken. He strode to his personal supply of potions, removed the bottle of Finite Medicamentum (one of the ones Hermione Granger had filled with her own brew a few days ago) and took a full dose. It tasted strongly of ginger and was icy cold. To make sure it worked, I'll have Miss Granger return tonight to re-brew the pain-relieving potion she started yesterday. If I'm near her and feel nothing, it worked. If not… well, I don't want to think of that.

He sat at his desk and wrote a short, curt letter to Miss Granger ordering her to his classroom that evening at eight. He would have one of his students deliver it to her at supper. Malfoy, perhaps. Potter never could resist fighting with the boy, and taking points from Gryffindor always cheered Severus slightly.

x.x.x

After storing her journal back in the bottom drawer, Hermione started working on her Arithmancy essay. She became so immersed in the research that she only looked at the clock when her stomach rumbled too loudly to be ignored. Goodness! Time for supper already! She packed her things away and hurried down to the Great Hall. The Quidditch team was still at practice, so she sat alone at the end of the Gryffindor table. She started on some chicken soup and bread right away to appease her stomach.

Neville arrived after a few minutes with Ginny. She was much paler than usual, so her freckles stood out vibrantly. She looked ill. "What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ginny said airily, but she groaned as Neville helped her to sit.

"That's not a 'nothing' face. Why aren't you at practice with everyone else?"

"She had an accident," Neville said glumly.

"Are you all—" Hermione began, but Ginny cut her off.

"It wasn't an accident! They did it on purpose!"

"Who?"

"Crabbe and Goyle," Ginny said sulkily.

"It's not as if you weren't expecting it," Neville scolded.

"Well they deserved it!" Ginny shouted, but her voice was overpowered by the general noise of the Great Hall so no one noticed. She grabbed a piece of baked chicken and piled mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"Ginny," Hermione said gently, laying a hand on the girl's arm, "tell me what happened."

Ginny stopped eating and folded her hands in her lap. Glaring at her plate, she said, "Last Friday as I was coming down to supper I saw Crabbe and Goyle tormenting Neville."

"It wasn't a big deal," Neville said quietly, but Ginny continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"They'd used Petrificus Totalis on him and were bouncing him around the corridor. He still has bruises, look!" She yanked up the sleeves of his robe and exposed several purple-green-yellow marks which he quickly covered up, embarrassed.

"Ginny, knock it off," he pleaded. "I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" She turned back to Hermione. "So I hexed them."

"What did you do?"

"I'm not sure, exactly," Ginny replied, looking a little uncomfortable. "I was so angry I couldn't think! Then I just left them there and went to supper with Neville. I guess someone found them and took them to the hospital wing. They were there 'til the next Tuesday!" She sounded rather proud. Hermione remembered Malfoy mentioning that his friends were in the hospital wing last Saturday morning before they went to Hogsmeade. She also recalled how Ginny choked when he said it. Now it made sense.

"So today they got even," Ginny went on. "I don't think either of them did the curse—they're too stupid—but halfway through practice today my broom started bucking like mad and threw me off about twenty feet up. Madam Pomfrey patched me up, though, and I'm alright, just a little sore."

"I'll bet Malfoy cast the curse," Hermione said.

"Yeah, me too," said Ginny. "Crabbe and Goyle didn't dare tell anyone that a girl had done that to them, so they decided to get their revenge in private. Also, we can't prove anything, so they can't get in trouble for it."

"Ah, but you can get in trouble for it," said a sneering voice behind Ginny. She, Neville and Hermione looked up into the face of Draco Malfoy, who had apparently heard… well, enough to get Ginny in a load of trouble. "Here, Mudblood," he said, thrusting a roll of parchment at Hermione. "Looks like another detention for you."

Hermione recognized Professor Snape's handwriting on the outside of the scroll and her heart skipped. Telling herself to calm down, she said, "I have an extra-credit project, ferret. Something you could certainly use to improve your grades."

Malfoy didn't even flinch. "Wait 'til Professor Snape hears about your little incident with Crabbe and Goyle, Weasley. You'll spend the rest of your life in detention. You might even get to serve it with the Mudblood. Goodness knows the dungeons would be nicer than what you're used to at home." He turned and walked away, leaving a very red-faced Ginny behind. There was almost a bounce in his step.

The three Gryffindors were in shock. Ginny's face turned quickly from scarlet to deathly white. "Mum's going to kill me," she said, wide-eyed.

"She… she won't kill you, Ginny," Neville said unconvincingly.

"It'll be all right," Hermione lied. "Besides… it was worth it, right? To see those goons who've tormented you and your friends for years flat out on the floor."

"Yeah," said Ginny brightening just a little. "That was nice." Neville put his arm around her.

The three of them ate in silence for a few minutes, trying not to imagine the horrible things Mrs. Weasley might do when she found out what her only daughter had done to two fellow students. Ginny might even get a Howler. Hermione shuddered at the memory of Ron's Howler from his mother second year.

Suddenly Hermione remembered the unopened parchment in her lap. She broke the seal of silver wax stamped with an "S" and read.

Miss Granger:

Since you did not satisfactorily complete the batch of pain-relieving potion yesterday evening, you will finish it tonight. I expect to see you in my classroom at eight o'clock sharp.

Severus Snape

He'd signed his name with a flourish (in black ink, of course), making it nearly illegible. It's not my fault I didn't finish it, you great git! Hermione thought. You threw me out! For the second time this week…

She finished eating quickly and made an excuse to Ginny and Neville, who hardly heard her. She looked at her watch and thought, If I hurry, I can get into my robe and be down in the dungeons in time. Besides making her look more professional for her strict professor, it would keep her warmer in the chilly dungeon. She rushed to Gryffindor tower and grabbed her school robe from her room. On a random impulse, she ran the anti-frizz comb Harry had given her for Christmas through her hair and tried not to think about why. She put her robe on over her sweater and jeans as she walked briskly down the many corridors to Professor Snape's classroom.

As usual, the professor called her in before she even knocked. He must have some kind of charm on the door that alerts him when someone is outside. Or maybe he really can read minds. As usual, everything was set out for her on the desk nearest his own. As usual, he grunted a greeting and told her to begin. As usual, he got up after a while to stand behind her and watch her work.

What was unusual was that nothing else happened. It seemed the norm, now, for something bad to occur during her work. He didn't yell at her, grab her arm or order her to leave. She didn't feel the need to shout at him or ask endless annoying questions. Everything seemed fine.

She added just a pinch of nightshade petals and stirred them in carefully. Although this was an easy potion to prepare and required simple ingredients, it had to be handled with extreme care. The finished product would relieve pain, but during the brewing stage it had a corrosive effect on skin.

With Professor Snape still standing right behind her, she measured and added ingredients for another ten minutes. She was about to add the lionfish spine to the cauldron when a sneeze snuck up on her. Must've been the poppy pollen, she thought right before she let go. She didn't even have time to cover her mouth. Startled, she dropped the fish spine into the cauldron and the resulting red splash just missed her face—except for one drop. It landed on her cheekbone just below her eye and slid down to her chin, then dripped harmlessly onto the desktop.

At first, it just stung a little. Then it began to burn. Hermione turned and backed away from the desk and her professor. "Miss Granger?" he almost shouted, and then walked quickly over to her. "Are you all right?" The pain intensified. Slightly dazed, Hermione marveled at the idea that Professor Snape cared that she was in pain. She lifted her hand to her cheek, but the contact made it hurt worse. Her fingers felt damp, and she saw they had blood on them.

"Here, take this," Professor Snape said, offering her a white cotton handkerchief from a pocket of his robe. Her eyes were shut tight against the pain; she groped for the handkerchief, but couldn't find it. Then she felt the professor's hand press it lightly against her cheek, his other hand holding her chin. She gasped, mostly in pain, but also in shock. Unless he was dragging a student away to yell at them, she couldn't recall Snape ever willingly touching anyone.

She forced her eyes open and looked up at him. He was concentrating on her wound, face full of concern. "Sit down," he ordered, but gently. She sat on the stool he'd summoned behind her while he wet his handkerchief at the sink. When he returned, he told her, "This will hurt," all trace of emotion gone from his voice. She clenched her teeth and tried to force her mind on other things while he firmly but carefully scrubbed out the gash, cleaning it of all traces of the unfinished potion.

Think of something else, she told herself. All right, um, ow! Um, Arithmancy. Chicken soup. That was good chicken soup. OW! Ginny. No, that's depressing, poor girl. Um, my bed. Ow! How I'd like to be in my bed right now, my soft, safe bed. My dream. No! No, why am I thinking about that right now? The man I "saw" naked last night is cleaning my face, I can't think of him, shouldn't think of him. Oh, Merlin, ow ow ow!

"I'm finished," Professor Snape said, stepping back. His voice and face were still blank.

"Thank you," Hermione said breathlessly. She knew she was blushing, but the harder she tried to stop, the pinker she turned.

"How do you feel?"

"It still stings a bit, but I'll live." Actually it was burning like mad, but she didn't want to let him know that.

He sat on the stool next to her and took her chin in his hand, holding it gently, like he'd hold a glass of wine. His black eyes shone in the dungeon torchlight and he tossed his long hair out of his face. He turned her face to better examine the small gash. It felt so nice to be touched like that, tenderly, with care. Hermione studied his face as he examined her wound. He had very pretty eyes with long black lashes, pale skin that wasn't really greasy, just a bit shiny. His nose was rather large, and his forehead a bit high, but she liked his hair. What does it feel like? What if I just reach out and touch it? What would happen? Almost unconsciously she leaned into his touch. His hand was cool and dry.

Her slight movement made him look up into her eyes. They both froze. The back of Hermione's neck tingled, as did her chin where his fingers rested. Still staring into each other's eyes, he brushed his thumb lightly over the corner of her mouth. His thumb felt rough but nice. Her skin buzzed all over. She raised her hand, wanting to brush his hair back…

x.x.x

Hermione Granger had arrived exactly on time, as usual. She took her place at the desk nearest his, as usual. She began working immediately, as usual. Severus got up to watch her work, as usual.

What was unusual (at least for the past week) was that he felt no strong sexual attraction to her. His mind didn't drift to thoughts of his dreams or fantasies about her. None of his appendages moved (or grew) involuntarily. He wasn't overwhelmed with the desire to take her roughly in his arms and kiss her senseless. Everything seemed fine.

She added the nightshade petals to the cauldron, just like she did last night when making the Purus Doleo potion. He hovered over her as she measured and added ingredients. Although he felt no physical effects of attraction, he was still thinking about her, and not in an academic sense.

Her hair looked nice tonight, less fuzzy. She smelled very faintly of… What is that little purple flower? Lavender? No, the other one. Lilac! He very much liked the delicate scent on her. He admired the way she gracefully handled the tools and equipment. Her nails were short and rounded, her cuticles trimmed. No scars or other marks. No wait, there's a small scar on the first knuckle of the littlest finger on her right hand. I wonder where it's from. He gave himself a mental shake. You could write a thirty page dissertation on her hands! Stop!

Severus realized that although he wasn't strongly sexually attracted to Hermione anymore, thanks to the Finite Medicamentum potion, he still had some feelings for her. He admired her intelligence, her obvious talent for brewing potions, her wit. He would care if she was insulted or injured. And that was saying something, for him.

A loud sneeze brought Severus back to reality. Apparently Miss Granger had dropped the lionfish spine in and splashed the dangerous potion. Fortunately, she seemed fine. Then she backed away, bent over, her hands shielding her face. "Miss Granger?" he shouted somewhat louder than he meant to. "Are you all right?" She touched her cheek, and he noticed it was bleeding. The potion must have splashed up onto her face. He offered her his handkerchief, but she'd closed her eyes and couldn't see to take it. He patted it against her cheek, then gently told her to sit while he got the cloth wet. Amazingly, water was the only thing that could clean such a dangerous potion out of a wound.

At the sink he wet the handkerchief and made himself get back into Stern Potions Master mode. He'd never used that tone of… concern… for a student before. For almost any human being. Satisfied that he was back to "normal"—whatever that was—he returned to Hermione and wiped out the gash on her cheek. He held her face steady and tried not to marvel at how soft and smooth her skin was.

"I'm finished," he said when he was.

"Thank you," she said. Was she blushing?

"How do you feel?"

"It still stings a bit, but I'll live." She was blushing! Whatever for? Contact with him? Surely not.

But oh, how he wanted to feel her skin once more! Under the pretense of examining the wound, he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face back and forth. His eyes began roaming the length of the small stripe of blood, then wandered further. Her hair really did look rather nice. She had beautiful eyes with long lashes, silk-soft skin. She was quite short and much too young, but oh, that mouth! What does it feel like? What if I just reach out and touch it? What would happen? Almost unconsciously he stroked the corner of her lips with the rough pad of his thumb. He saw her raise her hand…

And then the door slammed open and Draco Malfoy burst in.

…

Author's Notes: I don't really have much to say on this chapter. Hope you liked it. As I said before, Monday nights will be more convenient for updates from now on, so I'll shoot for Chapter Eight then.

References:

None this chapter (unless I missed something; if I did, let me know).

Review Replies:

BabyRuth15: Another blunt comment! Oh well. :-) Thanks.

Natsuyori: Thank you thank you! I'm so glad you like it!

Fujutsu: I feel so honored! Thank you so much for all the nice things you said!

Hunter0309: Bwahaha, I love drunk Severus! And cliffhangers! As for the one-shot, it's from an RPG I'm in, and I play both Hermione and Severus. They'd been together a few months by the time I wrote that. (The pet name was a little sarcastic.) Make more sense now? Thanks!

Mebear: I'm looking forward to my next chapter too! It's not finished yet, heehee. Thank you.

AuburnTressed: Thank you so much, Erica! One of the best compliments I can get is that my characterization is good. I'm glad you're enjoying my story.

MagickAlianne: Yes, it is getting a little more serious. (Wait until you see the next chapter!) Thanks muchly!

Nemo112478: Well, I think I am keeping people in suspense. I don't want to get to the point too fast because I think the tension is what makes it fun to read (and write). Thanks though!

TalonDragonFriend: My fic is yummy? Awesome! - Giggles - Torrid fantasies are always fun. And yes, who could that professor be…?

Transylvanian: They're not having exactly the same dreams, as you saw from this chapter, but they are having similar themes…

Caeria: Excellent thinking! I tried not to make it too out of character, but you were right in guessing that something was up. Well done! And thanks!

Auroraziazan: Hey, racy is fun sometimes! As is tension. That's what makes this so fun to write. And yes, someone's going to act… Well, I'll be quiet now. You'll just have to see. Thanks for the review and the suggestions! (The Creevy twins I'm referring to are my own creations; I thought it would be fun to give the existing Creevys some little brothers. I just feel sorry for their parents!)

Thank you all so much for all the reviews! I never expected this! If this many people are reading my story and telling me about it, I wonder who else is reading it and not saying anything? This is totally awesome, thanks again! Chapter Eight should be up Monday!