Chapter Ten

Severus woke at three in the morning, blinking hard, trying to erase the images burned into his mind. This time there had been a forest, a young woman, a chase, torture. She had been a Ministry informant to Lord Voldemort, but had gotten scared and tried to go into hiding. They found her anyway, and…

Shivering, he got out of bed, pulled on his robe and went into the other room, building up the fire with a flick of his wand, though he knew it couldn't reach the chill that haunted him. Invariably, his thoughts turned to Hermione. No, he protested, you can't think about that. About her. But he did anyway.

She seems to like me, he thought. She seems to enjoy her time in the classroom, working late at night, just the two of us. I haven't had a student like her since Alexander Dolohov… what was it, eight, nine years ago? Though I didn't want to snog him. Stop it! Oh, what does it matter what I think? No one will know.

Merlin, I wish I could show her what I feel for her. I'm falling deeper every day. No, more like digging myself deeper into a pit. A pit with no handholds, no light, no hope. A thought struck him and he got the elven journal from the bottom drawer of his desk. It had helped him before; why should right now be any different, even if the thing only "spoke" in riddles.

All I can think about is Hermione Granger, he wrote. While I'm teaching, while I'm eating, while I'm assigning detentions, while I'm walking the corridors late at night. Hermione Granger. Hermione… Gods, this is torture! If there were only some way to know for sure how she felt about me! She doesn't seem to despise me, at least. And there's a look in her eyes, sometimes, a sort of tender, melting look. But then it vanishes at the slightest provocation; the clearing of my throat, the shifting of my feet. I don't understand!

Frustrated, he threw the quill down, spattering ink on the gleaming wooden surface of his desk. He sighed and vanished the mess, then leaned back pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a sound like a length of tape being peeled slowly from a piece of wood. When he looked at the journal, he was astonished to find that words were appearing, slowly, a letter at a time. The ink was silver, but the printing was familiar, the rounded letters, short ascenders and long descenders.

I had a weird dream last night, it said.

Severus' eyes grew wider with each following sentence. She dreamt about me? About us? Doing that? Merlin! He continued on.

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.

What on earth did that mean, she let her mind wander too far? Surely she hadn't imagined… No. No, she wouldn't do that. Would she? He turned scarlet at the next part. She had plea – no, he wouldn't think it. He felt awful, like he was digging through her mind, dirtying her, but he couldn't stop!

He did feel so good though. Too bad he's so much older than me, sheconcluded. He waited another minute, but no more letters appeared in the journal. Severus sat back again. He knew what he was going to do. He had to see if she still felt the same, if she fancied him at all. He had to know.

x.x.x

On the way to breakfast Thursday morning Hermione hung back, catching Harry's eye so he would know to fall back with her. They walked at the rear of the group of Gryffindors heading down toward the Great Hall, and when she thought no one was paying them any attention, she asked, "How did it work?"

"Great," Harry said with a smile. "I thought about all the pictures I'd seen of my parents and their friends, and I guess my brain made up this whole story about how we all went on a picnic together, and went swimming in a lake and camped out at night…" He seemed in another world. "It was great."

Instead of smiling, as she was sure he expected, Hermione frowned. "Harry, be really careful with this. I've read it can be extremely addictive. Maybe next time, think about… Quidditch, or something. I'm not sure it's… healthy to have such dreams about your parents. I know you really miss them, but – "

"I'm fine," he said angrily, mood switching in an instant. "I can take care of it. I know they're just dreams, okay? Leave me alone about it. I appreciate you getting the potion for me, but I can handle it." He walked ahead of her, catching up with Ron and Dean, joining eagerly in their discussion about Hagrid's latest Magical Creatures lesson.

That's what you said about the Mirror of Erised, Hermione thought sadly.

Ancient Runes after breakfast dragged by, and she was glad for her free period before lunch. She returned to the library to try and find more about nightmares, and for nearly an hour she sat in peace, paging through huge texts and tiny books alike, content to be doing something she loved: research. As she reached for Maladies and Their Magical Cures, a piece of parchment fluttered into her view, stopping just in front of her face. It was folded into a neat square, her name written on the front in familiar spidery writing. Severus! Her heart leapt into her throat and her fingers shook slightly as she caught and unfolded it.

Miss Granger,

Please come to my office at eight o'clock tonight. I have something I wish to discuss with you concerning your work for me and your letter of recommendation.

-Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, Hogwarts

It was so formal! He'd called her Miss Granger; already she'd gotten used to hearing Hermione from him. Perhaps he was this formal in all his correspondence. Yes, that had to be it. Nonetheless, she blinked back tears at his cold words and was not a little nervous about what he had to say to her. Was he going to refuse to write the letter? Was he going to make her work more nights to earn it? Was she going to get yelled at for her appalling behaviour toward him the last few days?

What appalling behaviour? She ran through their meetings in her mind. Had she done anything inappropriate? All she could remember was stepping closer to him the other night when he'd laid his hand on her arm. She could still feel it if she concentrated. Though that was a lack of control on her part, she didn't think she would get reprimanded for it. On the whole, she thought she'd been hiding her feelings quite well.

Now she was to be alone in his office with him, though. Would she be able to keep things under control? How she longed to touch him, how she longed to feel him touch her! Anything, just a hand pressed to his cheek, her shoulder against his, anything. This is pathetic, she thought. Snap out of it. Concentrate.

It worked, miraculously. For the rest of the day she wouldn't allow her mind to stray to thoughts of Severus. She focused on the books she'd checked out from the library, on her Charms homework, on her Transfiguration practice. Anything but Severus. Until the clock in the common room struck 7:45. Her heart began a tap-dance routine and her breath came in gasps. Oh, Merlin. I have to go down there now. No matter what he says or does, I will stay calm. I will be in control of my emotions and, more importantly, my reactions. I will be strong. I will not think about snogging him. Augh! Stop it!

She was already in the muggle clothes she wore outside of classes and didn't bother changing to go down to the dungeons. Hoping she wouldn't meet any unpleasant Slytherins on the way (as if there was another kind), Hermione went through the portrait hole and down the many flights of stairs to Severus Snape's office.

x.x.x

He knew what he would say, what he would do. He'd been over it dozens of times in his mind, had even practiced it out loud a couple of times in his room, though quietly. Every word was memorized. So why was he nervous? Perhaps because he knew the instant he saw her, everything he'd rehearsed would fly out of his mind, every coherent thought would abandon him? He hated that she did this to him. No other person in the world had ever made him lose his hard, cool façade. Ever.

Merlin, almost time. It was three minutes to eight and, as she was always perfectly on time, he sat back in his desk chair to wait, his eyes flicking to the clock every few seconds. Exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds later, he heard the door to the classroom open and close and knew the soundproof spell he'd put on it had activated the moment the latch clicked back into place. Good. Now slow footsteps across the classroom, now a knock at his office door. "Enter," he called, thankfully in a normal, strong voice. She came in almost timidly, her expression tense, her hands fidgeting, and shut the door behind her, activating another soundproof charm, just to be on the safe side. "Hermione." He stood and swallowed nervously, wiping his sweating hands on his robes and hoping she didn't notice.

She dreamt about you, he told himself. She feels safe with you. She knows that you were a spy and she doesn't care. She thought about you. She's been thinking about you, she's got to have been. Relax. Calm down. Now just say it. "Hermione," he repeated, his voice just above a whisper. He had to know for sure. The clock struck eight and he paused for an agonizing fifteen seconds, waiting for it to stop, then he continued on in the same quiet tone as he walked slowly toward her, adrenaline shooting through him, making him jumpy. "I am going to do something, but I'm going to do it very slowly so that you may stop me at any time." He paused. What were his next words? His eyes were frantic for a moment, darting all over her worried face. Ah, yes. "I hope you don't stop me, but if you do… if you do… we can forget all about it and everything will be… fine." There, he'd said it. Now to continue. Another step, another, until he was just a couple of feet from her. "I think I may love you," he whispered. That wasn't in the script, but seeing her there, so close, forced it out of him. There was no reaction; just her wide eyes, her slightly open mouth, her hands clenched at her sides.

And then, very slowly, so she could stop him if she felt scared, uncomfortable or horrified, he leaned toward her, putting one hand on her shoulder, the other on her cheek. He took one last step toward her, bringing their bodies inches apart, and lowered his head to hers. His eyes were wide open, as were hers; the flecks of gold in them stood out brilliantly and he got lost in them, so lost that the contact of their lips startled him when it happened. He pressed his barely open mouth against hers, not breathing, not moving at all, as if he were merely resting there. She didn't move either, and it began to worry him. Then, at last, a flicker. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hand reached up to rest on his elbow. This slightest voluntary contact sent a jolt of lightning through his body and he closed his eyes as well, reveling in the feeling of her cheek beneath his fingers, his lips touching hers at last. Oh, Merlin, it was better than he had imagined, it was perfect, it was heaven, he was flying in perfect silence, unable to feel his feet on the cold stones or the tenseness between his shoulders as he hunched over. Just her lips, just her hand, just her cheek. She wasn't drawing away, she wasn't shouting, wasn't cringing at this contact. Perfect. Her lips… perfect.

x.x.x

Oh gods. He's kissing me. He's kissing me, he's kissing me! she thought frantically, though she didn't move an inch. I should do something, I have to respond, have to do something back. She raised her right hand, unsure. His shoulder? Can't reach. His hip? Too personal. She settled for resting her palm against his elbow. Suddenly it hit her. Severus Snape is kissing me. This is what I've been wanting. She closed her eyes slowly and leaned into him, just slightly. There was a strange feeling deep within her, and after a moment she realized it was because she had forgotten to breathe. Oh no. Breathe? How? Through my nose, I guess. She expelled the breath she'd been holding, then inhaled. Surely this couldn't be it! This couldn't be all there was!

She shifted her weight, causing her chest to brush against him. Electricity shot through her and she shuddered, pressing her mouth harder against his lips. He responded eagerly, drawing her closer. Their bodies were pressed together now and she was aware of every square inch of him. Merlin, he was so tall! Stronger than she would have thought, and warm. Her hands were on his waist now. When did that happen? No matter. His fingers were in her hair and she felt the very tip of his tongue touch hers. Oh, Merlin. Viktor Krum had never kissed her like this, so frantically, so… No, you idiot! Why are you thinking of him right now? Shoving all thoughts of Viktor to the very back of her mind, she focused again on Severus. Severus Snape. Her Potions professor.

"No," she said against his mouth. He stepped back immediately, severing all contact between them. "What's the matter?" he asked breathlessly. She realized he was shaking.

"We can't do this," she replied, eyes wide, hands trembling at her sides.

"I know." He rested his fingertips to the top of his desk for support.

"But…" She took a step backwards, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt so cold, suddenly.

"I know." He looked at the floor, then back to her eyes. "Hermione. You didn't… didn't stop me."

"Yes." She nodded, then shook her head. "We can't do this," she repeated. He took a step toward her and she tensed. He stopped.

"You don't know what this means to me," he said, his voice shaky. She had to strain to hear him, though he was only a few feet away.

"I'm sorry. I mean. You're welcome. I mean… Oh, God!" She returned to a muggle profanity in the face of such confusion. "We can't do this!"

"I know, I know," he said, and then he was with her again, inches from her, his black eyes soft, gazing deeply into hers. "We can't. We shouldn't. But…" He stroked her cheek with the back of two fingers. "Merlin, Hermione. You have no idea." Such pain in his dark eyes.

She didn't move, letting his fingers run down the side of her face, wanting to fall into his arms and cry with frustration, confusion, hurt… This wasn't in a book; she couldn't look up "student/teacher relationships" in the library, take a few pages of notes, and come to some easy conclusion. This was real life, and real life hurt, and was hard, and pounced upon you without mercy, tearing your life to shreds with razor claws and bloody fangs. "What do we do? What can we do?" she asked, eyes full of tears.

"Nothing. We can do nothing. I would lose my job, you would be expelled. There is nothing we can do."

"But… That's not good enough." Her strength was returning. She began to pace the small room, still hugging herself. Severus stayed perfectly still, following her with his eyes. "It's obvious that you have feelings for me," she said, keeping her gaze on the floor, "as I have… have feelings for you." There, it was out, it was really out. "We just have to suffer? Do nothing?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then why? Why did you kiss me when you knew nothing more could be done about it?"

"I had to know," he said softly, but she didn't seem to hear him.

Her face was flushed and she paced faster, making herself dizzy. "We can't do anything, anything at all and you… and you…" She had to stop and hold onto the back of chair that faced his desk to steady herself.

"Hermione!" He was at her side in an instant, one hand on the small of her back, the other closing over her fingers where they rested on the chair. "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not bloody all right!" she shouted, standing up and looking him in the eyes. "I think I love you too! I am not all right!" He took a step back, surprised, but she pursued him. "Once more," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist and stretching up to meet his lips. "Once more and I can never touch you again, never kiss you again." And she touched her lips to his, squinting her eyes shut, loosing herself in that kiss.

x.x.x

He gave her all he had, would have given her his soul, his life, had she but asked. Her palms were cold on his back, even through his robe, and he ran his fingers through her hair, their tongues exploring gently, mouths pressed together, eyes closed tight. Severus didn't want it to ever end, so he put his hands on the back of her head, willing her to stay here in his arms, her small breasts against him, her cool hands on his back, forever. Ah…

Of course it had to end sometime. When they could both barely breathe, they pulled away at exactly the same moment, panting. His hands were still in her hair, hers on his waist. They didn't move for a very long time, just looked into each others' eyes and gasped for breath as if they'd run a long distance. At last she stepped away. "Goodbye, Severus," she whispered through the tears that were already running down her face.

"Hermione, no, wait!" he called as she pulled open the door and strode through the classroom. "Please, you can't just go like this." He was a different man, one who would chase after a woman, pleading with her not to leave. She stopped, but did not turn. "You can't just go, please," he whispered. "You don't know what it's been like, these past weeks. I've thought of nothing but you. I'm awake at odd hours thinking of you, of how smart you are, how beautiful, how everything you do is perfect." She sniffed, loudly, and put a hand to her mouth, but still did not turn. "When the nightmares wake me early in the morning, I sit and I – "

"Wait, you're having nightmares too?" she turned to look at him, a serious expression on her face.

"Yes about… about the Death Eaters, and…" He fully intended to tell her everything, but she interrupted him again.

"And Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, Hermione," he said, surprised that she would call him by name, "but I don't see what that has to do with anything. I know you've been having nightmares too, but believe me, these – "

"That's it!" she shouted, tears forgotten. He could practically hear the wheels turning inside her head. "It's got to be… Yes, that's it, that's it!"

"What? What are you talking about?" He felt helpless, lost. He had no idea what she meant.

"I have to go and check something, I'll see you tomorrow for my work," she said as she hurried out into the corridor, leaving the door open behind her.

"Wait!" he called weakly, but even if she could hear him, he knew he would be ignored. She never ceased to amaze him.

x.x.x

Hermione tapped on the door to the Potions classroom Friday evening with the toe of her shoe, as her arms were laden with books. Please hurry, she thought. Her fingers were aching with the weight of them all, since she'd carried them from her dorm room about seven flights up. Thankfully the door opened a moment later, Severus' dark figure behind it. She hurried in and set the stack on the nearest desk, the books making a loud thump as they hit. The one on top fell off onto the floor and she picked it up excitedly. "Look, look," she said, gesturing him closer. "I've got it all figured out. Ah, sort of."

The puzzled look on Severus' face went unnoticed as she hadn't looked up at him yet. Hermione opened the book on top to a page she had marked with a scrap of paper, searched through the stack, and (with the help of a levitating spell for the ones on top) extracted another book near the middle. It too was opened to a marked page, and she set them out next to each other, shoving the stack to the side of the desk. "I'd been looking at completely the wrong books!" she said, oblivious to his confusion. "Not nightmares, but dark creatures. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"Hermione," he said softly, "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"I know." She pulled a stool from under the desk and sat. "Please," she said, gesturing for him to do the same. "You said last night that you'd…" she trailed off for a second, remembering the kisses. Focus! "You'd been having nightmares, correct?"

"Yes," he said shortly, almost defensively. "Have you as well?"

"No, not me, Harry." Shoot. I didn't mean to say it like that. Should've eased into it. Too late now.

"What? You mean the Sweet Dreams Syrup was for Potter?" he exploded.

"Um, yeah, kind of," she said in a small voice. "I knew you wouldn't have given it to me if I'd said it was for Harry."

"You're damn right I wouldn't have!"

"Oh, but this was different, right, since you wanted to snog me?" Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.

"That. Is not. The issue," he said. His face seemed to grow paler, almost glowing with anger, but she wouldn't back down.

"He needed a reprieve! He hasn't been getting enough sleep and I was worried about him! He's my friend, I care for him."

"You deceived me." His eyes were glittering obsidian, his expression stony, unmoving.

"I had to." Her tone grew softer. She wanted to touch his arm, but knew she couldn't allow herself to do that, lest it turn into more than just a simple touch. "Severus, please understand –"

"Professor Snape," he ordered, eyes still cold.

"Oh, don't give me that," she said sternly. "Just because I pissed you off is no reason to take it all back now."

He blinked, obviously unused to being spoken to like that. "Miss Granger – " he began.

"No, Hermione. Nothing has changed. Look, I know this is a little weird, but – "

"A little weird? My whole life is – "

"Oh calm down! Now, we can sit here arguing and interrupting each other, or you can be quiet and listen to what I actually came down here to say." She glared up at him, noting the wideness of his eyes, the confusion on his lips, and turned to the books. "Right. Now. I talked to Harry last night and he told me about his nightmares." She didn't want to reveal too much to Severus, as Harry's dreams were rather personal, but she did tell him the basics. "He said they were about the night his parents were killed. There's really no way he could remember that night, since he was just a baby, but he dreams it nonetheless, and it's very vivid and real. Sound familiar?"

"Dementors," Severus said, puzzled.

"Right." She pointed to a page in the book on the left. There were a few paragraphs describing dementors, and a moving picture of one of the creatures, ragged black robes blowing in a non-existent wind. They both shivered and looked away. "But, here's the interesting thing: he also said he'd dreamt about… well, about the people he loves dying. Often the same night as the other nightmares."

"That sounds like a normal nightmare to me."

"I don't think so." She pointed to the other book, open to a page on boggarts.

"What are you saying? Dementors and boggarts are attacking The Boy Who Lived in his sleep?"

"No. Well, maybe. I'm not sure. That's why I brought all this," she swept her hand over the pile of books, "and this." She pulled a stack of notes in her own handwriting from her bag.

"What does it have to do with me?"

"Your nightmares, you said, were about your days as a Death Eater and a spy – don't look so alarmed, it wasn't that hard to figure out – and about Lord Voldemort." She rolled her eyes at his reaction. "It doesn't hurt anything to say his name. Am I right?"

He nodded. "Yes…" he said uncertainly.

"No one else, as far as I know, had been having nightmares like these. And you and Harry would be having them because…" She paused to let him fill the rest of it in.

"Because we're both connected to the Dark Lord."

"Right. Harry because of his scar, and you because of your Dark Mark." Her eyes flickered to his left forearm and he covered it protectively, even though it was hidden beneath the sleeve of his robe.

"So you're saying that… that he's sending us these nightmares on purpose? Because we're connected to him? How?"

"That's what we're going to figure out," she said, pulling another book from the stack and handing it to him.

x.x.x

The next three hours were spent in relative silence, the two of them only speaking to ask questions, request a book or stack of papers, or say "Excuse me" and blush if their elbows bumped, as they were still sitting close together at the same desk. They had, however, pulled three more desks closer and were now sitting in the middle of a square formed by the tables, hemmed in by books and parchments and quills. It was a mess. It was wonderful. Severus loved research, and it was made even better by the fact that he was doing it with the brightest student at Hogwarts. They were a team. They worked together perfectly, finishing each other's sentences, filling in the blank spots if one of them got lost or confused amidst the facts. He hadn't been so happy for… well, for a very long time.

Catching sight of the clock for the first time, Severus flinched, then said calmly, "It's almost ten o'clock."

"Merlin's beard! It is!" Hermione exclaimed. "I haven't done any potions work tonight. You said – "

"Oh, I'll write your ruddy letter," he said, irritated that, first of all, they had spent three hours researching dark creatures and had still come to no firm conclusion about the nature of the nightmares, secondly that he had enjoyed it so much, and third that he had agreed to write Hermione's letter without making her work for it; that had been the deal. "Not until we figure this out, though," he added.

"We?" she asked softly, looking up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes.

He stared intently at her for a moment, then sighed. "Yes, we. You've dragged me into this mess, and now I can't rest until I know the answer."

A smile spread slowly across her perfect lips. Lips he could never feel again. "Thank you."

"Yes yes. Start cleaning up, it's late. We'll continue our work on Tuesday night."

"Tuesday?" she nearly whined. "But that's four days away! I can't work on it on my own, I need y… That is, I just think it goes… better, um, more easily and, ah, quickly, if we… work together."

Severus frowned at her for a long time, thinking. "If you come here too often, people may begin to… suspect something."

"Right," she said seriously. "But not if… they don't know I'm here. Right? I can come down tomorrow; I'll tell the boys I'm in the library, and if they look for me in there and don't find me, I'll say I went back to my room."

"Something that simple should be enough to fool them," he said pensively.

"Hey! They're my friends."

"Unfortunately. You could do a lot better, Hermione." He wanted so badly to stroke her cheek…

"I don't want to. I mean, no I couldn't. I mean… Augh! Why do you do this to me?"

"Do what?" he said, tapping a stack of papers into a neater pile, not looking at her.

"You know full well what. Stop insulting my friends." She gave him a hard stare until he turned to look at her.

"Fine. Don't be seen. I expect you at three." He handed the papers to her and started toward his office. The door clicked shut behind him before she could say anything more. Merlin. I get to see her again! She wants to see me again! Sure, they'd only be researching, unable to touch, to kiss… To kiss… Gods. Every second he could spare was spent re-living those kisses, imagining what would have happened if they could have continued. If only she was a few years older, or if she went to a different school…

But if wishes were hippogriffs, beggars would fly. It would be enough to be in the same room with her, to talk to her, to work with her. It had to be enough.

x.x.x

Author's Notes: This chapter was SO much fun to write. It's days like this (er, two days, actually – I slacked off and didn't start this until Sunday) that make me glad I write. Super-glad. I hope you're happy with it too!

Review Responses:

PessimisticEyes: Thanks! Um, not too sure about the Celine Dion song… but if you say so, and if you like it, then yay!

Natsuyori: Thanks so much!

Princess Kayle: No, not for Harry… We'll see…

Cithara: I really like the two points of view also. I love writing both characters, as they're so different, but at the same time they have so much in common. The parallels are fun to write too!

Transylvanian: Thank you!

Jessi: Haha! I thought about having her take the potion, but now I think I have something different in mind for it… Just wait.

Hunter0309: Thank you! My heart was a little jumpy at that part too. And look, you got more about the notebook. Are you happy now? Haha! It'll show up (sort of) in the next chapter too.

As this coming weekend is Fourth of July weekend and I'm going to be out of town, I'm not sure when the next update will be. I'll get it up as soon as possible (maybe this week, if I'm lucky). The following weekend I'll be out of town AGAIN for the renaissance festival we go to every year, so again, not sure about the updating. However, the weekend after THAT is… drumroll… Book Six! WOOHOO! So I'll hopefully have this story done before that comes out and probably screws up everything I've written, haha. I'm really going to try, really really. Another two chapters, I think. After I've read book six, I might start on the sequel to Dreams Can Come True. I'm looking forward to it, and I hope you all are too! More to come… uh, some time.