Hermione seemed to improve after their late night meeting. In the morning, she dressed and came out to breakfast. She didn't have much in the way of clothing because she'd taken most of her travel and muggle clothes home and what the elves had sent was from school. She had mostly school clothes and a few sets of pajamas. She wore her white button down school shirt and transfigured her skirt into a pair of Bermuda shorts so at least she didn't have to worry about keeping her bum covered if she decided to do anything other than sit or stand.

"Good Morning," she said, sitting at the fourth chair at the table. Her parents stared at her, surprised to see her but Snape inclined his head.

"Good Morning, Miss Granger," he said and went back to the potions text in front of him.

"I thought that I'd give this place a good cleaning today," Hermione continued, scooping some eggs onto her plate and taking a few strips of bacon. "So if there is anything particular you'd like done, just let me know."

"I'll help you," her mother said, standing up and taking her apron off. "I'm tired of cooking."

They ate quietly. Mr. Granger hadn't said much in the last few days. They could all tell he hated being cooped up. They couldn't even go out into the yard, assuming there was one. There were windows but the charm kept them from really being able to see what was outside. It let in light so at least it wasn't like the quarantine. At least Hermione didn't feel like she was living in a cave again… or dungeons. Snape was used to it though and hated the morning light coming into his room. He charmed his room dark the first moment he'd gotten there.

Snape spent the days locked in his dark room avoiding the Grangers. When Hermione had refused to leave her bed, he'd had nothing to do out in the rest of the house. The elves had at least sent all his potions notes and journals so he'd been working on something he'd been too busy to do for a long time – writing up articles on all of his various research notes for several potions journals who'd requested things from him. It was enough work to keep him occupied for months.

After breakfast, he cleaned the kitchen with a wave of his wand and went up stairs to get started on his work and maybe take a short nap if he had trouble concentrating. He hadn't slept much the last few days, after all. He could hear Hermione and her mother discussing strategies for cleaning. He was glad she had found herself a project but, personally, he didn't want any part of it. He shut his bedroom door with a soft click.

oooo

"I haven't seen any cleaning supplies and I've looked in most every cupboard, I think," her mother said, looking at her daughter. Frankly, Jane Granger hardly recognized Hermione as belonging to her at all anymore. She wasn't a child – she was curvaceous if still a little underweight but that was to be expected with the sickness. When Jane was Hermione's age, she was still living at home wondering what she would do with her life. Hermione had already survived so much. She was so mature. She was not a little girl anymore but a woman with wild hair in a mockery of a child's school uniform.

"Well, the easiest way is just for me to do everything magically," Hermione said, sounding a little regretful. She wanted to spend time with her mother and was grateful she offered to help, but her mother couldn't even turn on a light in the house. She couldn't help either.

"I'm tired – sick and tired of magic," her mother said, sitting down primly on the sofa in the living room. "I hate to be so useless."

"Let's do everything the Muggle way, then," Hermione said. "It will take longer and we can do it together. Lord knows we need something to fill up the days." Her mother smiled at her for she knew her daughter was just saying it to appease her but she wasn't above accepting.

"Let's do," her mother said and watched as Hermione muttered a few spells and buckets of hot water and suds appeared along with dust rags and bottles of ammonia.

"It's not brand name but it's the best that I can do," she said.

"It's fine," her mother said, smiling. "At least it isn't food."

oooo

The sun had set by the time the women had cleaned most everything they could get their hands on. The only things left were the Granger's room where Mr. Granger had holed him self up and Snape's room where he had done the same.

"I think I'll make myself a snack and then head off to bed," Mrs. Granger said, tiredly. Hermione followed her mother into the kitchen and watched her pull some left over soup from the panty. "Would you?" she asked and Hermione nodded and tapped her wand against the bowl. The soup inside began to steam and her mother kissed her cheek, took the bowl, and went upstairs. Hermione looked around in the pantry trying to decide if she was hungry. She ate an apple slowly, deep in thought. She was contemplating her next move, carefully. Finally, she disposed of the core and went upstairs.

Severus answered his door after only a slight pause and he looked rumpled and tired.

"Do you want me to clean your room?" she said, softly. He regarded her for a moment before stepping back and allowing her entrance into the room. There were papers everywhere – covering his desk. There were a few candles lighting the place but mostly it was dark. His fingers were stained with ink – black this time, instead of the red he used for grading. It always made his fingers look bloody. Now they stood in the dark room with the black ink and the rumpled bed.

"You didn't bring any of your Muggle cleaning supplies," he pointed out. It was a shoddy excuse to get into his room, they both knew. He could clean with his wand just as well as she could.

"I didn't really come to clean," she said, though her cheeks colored as she said it. He raised an eyebrow and walked towards her until he was close enough to put his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes.

"I thought we decided not to do this," he said.

"That was then. I'd say the situation has changed drastically," Hermione argued.

"Desperate times, desperate measures," he murmured and leaned down and kissed her cheek. She held her breath while his lips traced her cheekbone down to behind her ear, blazed a trail along her neck and reached their final destination against her own lips.

From there it seemed to move quickly before time slowed to include just the two of them. Clothing was removed; the bed linens were pushed to the floor. Snape placed a silencing charm on the room and turned his attention back to the now nude woman in his bed. She looked a little frightened, and though she had not said as much, he was certain that what they were about to do was her first time. He realized part of her nerves probably had to do with the fact that he still had his pants on, even though they were rumpled and the clasp was open. He pushed them down off his hips and she blushed more when she saw he wore nothing underneath. Underwear, while no longer a Muggle thing, wasn't really acknowledged in the older wizarding family. He was raised without it and though he had underwear, he rarely wore it.

But there were more important things to contemplate now.

He smiled at her and she smiled back, tentatively.

"It's going to hurt at first," he said sliding onto the bed next to her. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"A little pain is okay," she said. He laughed out loud, throwing his head back.

"That's the Slytherin in you," he said, reaching out and pushing her hair out of her eyes. She leaned into to his touch, closing her eyes. Emboldened, he let his hand wander down her neck, to her bare breasts. Soon, his other hand moved south and met her woman hood. From there, it was instinct, evolution. Snape was practiced but no expert. Hermione had never done anything of the sort, and yet their bodies moved in a familiar rhythm, as ancient as magic its self. Two people coming together, born again as one.

oooo

Morning came, as it did every day. Hermione was an early riser but Snape was already working at his desk, his quill scratching out angry letters, his shoulders hunched – his white skin gleamed in the early light. He was sweating, shaking, his breathing was loud and it was what woke her.

"Severus?" she asked, sitting up and wrapping the bed sheet around her modestly.

He grunted but did not look at her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The end is nigh," he said philosophically, sarcastically. Maybe even a bit sadly. "I'm being summoned," he explained more patiently.

"He hasn't summoned you before?" she asked, crawling out of bed and pulling on enough clothes to feel comfortable.

"Oh, he always summons me. A slow and constant burn but it has escalated somewhat in the night," he said, extending his left arm for her to see. The dark mark had gone from black to red – the burning was so deep that his skin hissed and bubbled in wet blisters. She gasped and reached out but he jerked his arm away. "The final battle approaches, Hermione; he is calling in his army."

"Are we really expected to just sit here?" she asked, angry tears welling in her eyes. She was angry that he was in pain, angry at her helplessness, angry that she wasn't able to wake up in his arms as cliché as it was. She had wanted that.

"I don't know," he said. Suddenly, out of place in the muted tones of a house still asleep, they heard a bang downstairs. It made Hermione jump but Snape merely raised his head in acknowledgement. Hermione scurried into the rest of her clothes and opened the door. She went to the landing of the stairs and saw Harry Potter standing at the bottom.

"It's time," he said, somberly and apologetically.

"I know," she whispered. Snape appeared behind her with her cloak and her wand, fully dressed.

"Come on, then," Harry said. They started downstairs.

"What about Mum and Dad?" she asked, looking at the closed door down the hair that was disappearing as she descended.

"Better this way," Snape said. Harry waited beside the open front door and for the first time Hermione could see the yard and forest that lay beyond. On the front stoop, Snape closed the door.

"Hogwarts?" he asked Harry, who nodded. They apparated away with a pop and when they arrived, Harry started jogging toward the castle. It became obvious to Hermione that the battle had already begun and that Harry couldn't really be spared, especially to retrieve them but he was the only one who could. Snape moved quickly to follow.

"Severus!" she called and he paused, looking back at her. "I love you." But he shook his head.

"Don't say goodbye," he reprimanded. "Come on, there isn't time to lose." He started walking again, his robes billowing behind him. What could she do but follow? She gripped her wand tightly and walked toward the castle.