--Stares off after the Plot Bunny that rampaged through last chapter--

Who's ready to see where this little bunny has lead us all? I'm not sure if I am game enough to start typing…. LOL Enjoy this chapter people, it's based around dealing with what Snape has just done – and just WHY did he do it?

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Chapter Thirty-Six

Hermione watched as Snape stormed down the lines between the tables in the Great Hall, his luminous black robes billowing out behind him in their usual fashion. She was surprised by the look of pure disgust that adorned his face. It was indeed a look she had seen many times before, but still shocked her to see it. It was a look that was only connected either to Harry or Ron.

Turning back to the huge doors that lead out to the Entrance Hall, Hermione watched with growing apprehension as Harry came into view, looking a cross between shaking with anger and fear. Oh God… she thought, her eyes widened. She turned to Ron, who hadn't seemed to notice anything. Ginny, one the other hand, was also flicking her eyes between the seemingly furious Potions Master and her dark haired boyfriend. What the Hell just happened, she wondered, watching them all carefully.

Harry approached the Gryffindor table, took his seat next to Ginny, reached for a plate of roast chicken, and without looking at Hermione, let out a string of obscenities. "How dare the fucking asshole threaten me, who the fuck does he think he is?" He muttered hotly, spearing a piece of chicken before letting it fall. Hermione, Ginny and Ron all sat back, shocked. "What fucking guts, saying that. He's the asshole who'd do it, not me."

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. "What happened?"

The intensity of the anger glowing in Harry's eyes threw Hermione off course for a moment. "What just happened is that slimy piece of shit just had a go at me, threatened me." He spat furiously, turning his attention back to the plate, before looking at her. "Seems he's got the idea that I'm going to upset you, throw you off your studies, annoy you, oh and worst of all, stop you from seeing him!"

To say Hermione was taken aback would have been a gross understatement. "What are you talking about, Harry?" she asked in a low voice.

The furious wizard went on to describe the encounter in the Entrance Hall. As he was talking, Hermione spied the Potions Master scowling at his untouched dinner. After a few moments, the tall man stood and strode back down the Great Hall, earning himself the glances of many students around him, all of whom quickly turned away.

Once Harry had finished his story, he rounded on Hermione. "Tell me, Hermione, what the Hell was that about? What the fuck have you been telling him, down in his little rooms?"

Instantly she recognised the suggestion he was making, and was deeply offended by it. "I didn't say anything Harry!" she cried, causing several first years to jump a little in their seats. "I wouldn't do that. Maybe he saw you yesterday, oh Harry, I wouldn't say anything." She was quick to defend herself. "I don't know why he would say that!"

"Because he's a great, greasy, bat!" Ron cried, slamming his fork down onto the table in a fit of anger. "You should tell McGonagall, get the oily bastard into trouble, or hex him. Yeah… we could hex him…"

Harry shook his head violently. "I couldn't tell anyone, no one would believe him. I can't believe so many people are so blind to him still, even after…" his voice trailed off and Hermione watched as his face turned red out of anger once more. "Oh, fuck this, I can't eat, I can't believe this." He stood up. "But don't worry Hermione, I wouldn't dare take any of this out on you and risk messing things up for you."

The venom in the words sunk in as Hermione watched her friend, accompanied by Ron stalk off down the Hall. She sat, shocked, her hands on either side of the table. "I can't believe it," she whispered.

"Either can I!" Ginny exclaimed. "What on earth happened? Seriously, Hermione, what on earth was that about?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, Gin, I really don't." She stared, unseeing at her plate. "He was fine yesterday when I left; we didn't even mention Harry really over dinner, only in passing in regards to the war and stuff… why on earth would he have said that?"

When Hermione turned to look at the red head sitting next to her, she was shocked to see a grin threatening to spread across the girl's face. "What, Ginny?" She snapped. "This isn't funny. Harry could be really mad at me, oh, I can't believe this has happened." She covered her face with her hands.

"Maybe Snape likes you." Ginny whispered mischievously. Hermione let out an open laugh, a sharp, short bark to let her friend know just how ridiculous she thought that suggestion to be. Ginny glared at her for a moment before continuing on. "I don't mean like that, Hermione." She paused. "Well… maybe, I don't know. But come on, don't you realise? Snape was defending you to Harry. We all know how much of ass Harry is being about the whole situation, of course Snape's going to see it too. I mean, shit, we did follow you too yesterday," she admitted, sheepishly. "And listen to what Harry said that the bat threatened him."

Hermione bit her lip carefully. There couldn't be truth to what Ginny was saying, could there? "No, Ginny, it's not possible." She said, shaking her head. "Ron and Harry are always telling me I'm the logical one, and I say what you are saying is completely illogical. Professor Snape hates me."

"If he hates you, why would he be letting you use his private library?"

"He only did that to make up for the fact that he basically threw me out of his chambers after I recovered from that stupid fever." Hermione shot back. Well, why else would he have allowed it?

Ginny gave her a smile. "He not only does that, but he's taken you flying twice now – I bet he didn't do that because he felt sorry for you." The flame haired girl gave a triumphant smile. "And do you really think he'd have kept letting you use his books for so long after one tiny incident – this is Snape."

"There was also the time I found him drunk," Hermione muttered, covering her face again. She still hadn't told anybody about that. And she hadn't meant to let it slip out then – she had, afternoon, told Professor Snape that she wouldn't.

A look of pure delight crossed Ginny's face. "Drunk?" she asked, loudly.

"Shhh!" Hermione instantly hissed. "Keep your voice down!" She quickly proceeded to give Ginny the very short version of the story – how she had returned a book to a very drunk Snape. She left out all details of chatting, touching, brewing. Ginny didn't need to know about them.

By the end of the story, Ginny was grinning. "And he let you live after you saw that? Yeesh, Hermione, I think he does like you!"

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The last thing Snape wanted as he sat in his dark office a few hours later, was to be disturbed. It seemed his one want was not going to be granted, given the quiet knocking at his office door. Pulling his robes tight around him, he made his way to the office door, wand at the ready to destroy what ever annoying brat was planning on adorning his office with their complaints.

However, when he opened the door to see the stormy face of Hermione Granger, he let his wand arm fall to his side. He should have known that stupid little Potter would tell her, and that she would be upset. Well, fuck her, he thought, as he turned his back on her, striding wordlessly back to his desk. He'd only bloody tired to help.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to skip meals, sir."

Her words, spoke in such a low voice, threw him well and truly off track. He had been expecting her to start ranting about Potter – she hardly gave a regard for authority, like her little friends, when she was annoyed. But this was completely unexpected. She must have been watching him in the Hall as he had scowled at his meal, too angry with himself to eat. The little scene in the Entrance Hall had not been planned – Snape had just felt a blinding flash of fury at the site of Potter. He'd remembered the look he'd seen on the boy's face, the look of pure loathing and anger as he thought he'd hidden himself and his little girlfriend away so carefully under the stands. He didn't need more then a glance in the direction to know what was going to happen.

That idiotic, self-obsessed 'hero' didn't deserve Hermione's help if he was going to behave like that. Only Snape hadn't planned on telling the little shit that, he hadn't planned on saying anything. But that flash of fury, the sickening reminder of his days as a student at Hogwarts had fuelled him into action without thought, pressing his wand against the boy's throat. He would not do anything to upset Hermione.

Miss Granger!

The young witch he'd felt a want to protect now stood before him, a look of anger across her face, and yet, it was over something completely different.

"Pardon me?" He asked, standing behind the desk, leaning against it with both hands pressed flat against the wood.

"Professor, we talked yesterday, remember?" she said, lifting an eyebrow. "You told me that you wouldn't skip meals anymore." He watched as she bit a lip – was that worry in her eyes?

He brought a finger to his lips, tracing the thin lips. No, he wouldn't think of those lips. "Circumstances call, Miss Granger," he murmured.

"Tell me of those circumstances, sir." She whispered, her brown eyes searching his.

He turned away. She was asking him? Why wasn't she taking stupid Potter's word – surely he would have told her. "I'm sure you heard, Miss Granger," he said stiffly, studying the contents of a bright yellow jar on the shelf closest to him.

"I heard, sir." She said. "However, I do not understand."

He let out a bark and spun back to the desk, walking around it and advancing on it. "The great Gryffindor who doesn't understand something?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, sir, I do not." Much to his disappointment, the young witch did not flinch under his gaze. "Perhaps you could fill me in."

He almost froze. How could he explain something that he himself did not know?

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Late, late that night, Hermione found herself sitting upon her stone window ledge again, a blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm. Her orange cat Crookshanks sat purring next to her, receiving distracted pats from his mistress. She barely registered his presence, thinking back to the conversation she and Professor Snape had shared down in his office. One of many conversations¸ she thought, giving the cool, clear night outside a wistful smile.

The Professor had told her what had happened, how he had seen Harry yesterday at the pitch. She quietly admitted once again that her friend did not appreciate her spending time in his rooms.

"They'd most likely prefer me in the Common Room, on standby to help them with their homework," she had said bitterly, surprising herself and the Professor. Even more surprising – she realised she felt like the statement was true – right down to the bitterness of her tone.

The past few weeks, when she wasn't researching in the Potions Master's rooms, or in the library, or in class, Ron and Harry were trying to get her to help them with their work. Apparently they'd finally realised just how close their NEWTs were, and were relying on Hermione on getting them through it. It was a pity for her that she had her own work to do – and a pity for herself that she was still allowing herself to actually grant them the help they requested a lot of the time.

"And that, Miss Granger, is why I said what I said," Professor Snape informed her in a quiet, non-apologetic tone. "You shouldn't be hassled with their inability to study – how you have put up with their foolishness for the past seven years is beyond me. You are a brilliant witch, Miss Granger," he had continued, almost causing her to fall out of the chair she had eventually lowered herself into. "I will not allow brilliant witches, even if they are Gryffindors, to be dragged down by the likes of the infamous Potter."

"It's never affected my exams before," she said stubbornly.

Hermione told herself sitting on the ledge, that the expression she had seen in his eyes when she had looked at him at this point had not been gentle. It was hardly possible. Oh, but it is, her brain told her. He took very good care of you when you were ill.

"I wasn't just talking about your exams, Miss Granger." He had murmured, upon dismissing her for his office and sending her and her confused thoughts back to her private room.

In the Common Room, she had avoided Harry and Ron, knowing they would question her again regarding what Snape had done to Harry. She didn't know if she could cope with it after all she had just learned. Ginny caught her eye and mouthed "tomorrow" at her, signalling a want to talk, because Ginny had known exactly where she had been headed earlier, of course.

With a sigh, Hermione shifted off the window ledge, placing the blanket back on the bed and settling down before being joined by Crookshanks. Part of her was still confused by what the Potions Master had done. She realised that he was trying to protect her, and obviously not just school wise. She tried not to think of the expression in his eyes when he had told her about his lack of tolerance for self absorbed wizards like Harry berating brilliant witches.

Hermione couldn't help but think it didn't entirely have to do with her, right now, today. And maybe it didn't all have to do with Harry. But maybe another Potter.

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Well, there's that chapter.

I'm hoping to get one done tomorrow morning, because if I don't, no one's likely to see another chapter until… oh, my, Sunday! I'm a very busy little munchiken this week! I hope everyone has a fantastic week, please review, I promise I'll try and post sooner then Sunday – I'll tear my own hair out if I have to wait that long!

--Hugs-- to everyone!