This is a really short chapter, but none the less dedicated to the delicious Spot, who so adorably let me use his computer (after kidnapping me!)

Also thanks to Wick, who probably should have been using this computer.

As the chapter does not have spell check at the moment, I will go over it tomorrow and repost an edited version if needed :-) So please excuse my mistakes! I love you all.

I've only just been able to find my Bunny for the moment, he's been very elusive, thanks to much tiredness!

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

The cool exterior of the tall man that swept along the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was in complete contrast to the boiling that was going on beneath the surface. Snape was agitated, more then normal, and students were once again suffereing at the hands of his mood. His black cape billowed out behind him, making students scatter in fear of losing points for their house, even when they were doing nothing more then moving quietly towards their classes. They knew, like he did, that he didn't care about what they were doing, the simple fact was that they were in his way.

His face remained in it's usual menacing scowl, his black cloak billowing behind him, his hands clenched by his side. He was on his way back to his dungeon classroom after a meal in the Great Hall. He had been kind to Miss Granger, he had attended every meal since their conversation nearly a week ago. And how had she repaid him? By avoiding him. Usually she'd spent maybe a night or two during the week studying in his chambers, and he's found himself relishing in the quiet company, the ideas she muttered under her breath as she read.

But she hadn't been once, not since last Sunday when she'd come to find out what happened with Potter. It was now Friday.

Trying hard, he could almost convince himself that she'd been busy, she's the Head Girl, she's got duties to attend to, along with study to complete - she was going to be having her NEWTs in about two weeks. He could almost convince himself that she wasn't avoiding him - she never looked at him in class anyway. He could almost convince himself that she'd managed to get the House Elves to bring her every meal, that's why she hadn't been in the Great Hall for meals, despite his efforts.

Almost. But not quite. There was always that doubt hanging about in his mind.

He'd come to realise, once again, how cold and lonely his dungeon rooms just were. The quiet company Miss Granger had supplied him with was comforting all the same, and he had enjoyed her presence in his chambers. And as hard as he tried to tell himself that he didn't miss her company, he did.

Without seeing the students who fled his presence now, he felt his anger deepen, his scowl become more pronounced. How he pitied to fourth year Ravenclaw and Slytherin class he was about to teach.

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Later that evening, Hermione pushed her bushy hair away from her face. The past week, either tucked away in her dorm room, the Gryffindor Common-Room, or the school library was almost enough to get her back into her old habit of chewing on the ends of her hair, forcing them to become limp and knotty, as horrible as her thick hair already was. Glancing up, she realised that once again, she was the only student left in the school library. Studying for her NEWTs, study she'd foolishly set aside for her own study in the depths of the castle, had left her feeling tired and weak.

Or maybe it was the fact that she'd hardly eaten all week. She'd not had time, inbetween the tiresome efforts of her Professors to set them up for their NEWTs and the revision she'd set herself. At the beginning of the week, she'd rushed through the Great Hall to grab a bite, only to be cornered into staying for something "proper" to eat by Ron and Ginny. For the first time in a long time, it was Ron who was talking to her, and Harry who was not. Harry had only sent a glare in her direction - he clearly still believed she was the blame for Professor Snape's outburst at the beginning of the week. But she'd not had a chance to think about that - and did she really want to?

Not wanting to endure the glares, or the cornering, she had taken to visiting the kitchens of an evening for a quick meal to get her through the days. For three days she's survived, and she knew she couldn't take much more. Thankfully, it was Saturday tomorrow, and the final Hogsmeade visit for the school year. The weather was now much warmer, and she knew that the whole of Gryffindor House, from third year and above was planning on taking full advantage of the day. The day before, she had visited Professor McGonagall, requesting being allowed, even as Head Girl, to stay at the school to study. She'd felt terrible, but she knew that her studies came first.

The Headmistress had asked her if there was anything else that was bothering her. Not wanting to lie, Hermione had told the older woman that it was "nothing that she didn't think she could fix before the end of the year". And she seriously hoped that it was true. She did not want to end her school year on a bad note with Harry. But the end of the year was drawing closer.

Leaning back in the library chair, she stretched for a moment, realising just how close the end of the year was. A shudder ran through her. She'd been reading information on several jobs that were avaliable for students just out of Hogwarts, but she'd been disgusted by all of them. And she'd already made her choice that she didn't want to work for the Ministry of Magic, until it's had a total reform. With a snort, she realised that there was a very big chance that she would not be working at the Ministry of Magic at all - compared to Ron, who was very anxious to get marks that would allow him to become an Auror for the Ministry. She hoped that he'd make it - even now, after all he'd been through, he felt that was not quite as good as all of his older brothers, that he didn't live up to any of them.

Maybe she'd travel, she thought. There were courses all over the world on all aspects of the magical world, and she felt a need to learn everything she could. Surely they could be the perfect opportunity. In each of the courses, there was the chance to earn money, of which she probably wouldn't need, thanks to the generous contribution her parents made towards her education. They were well off, Hermione knew it. She could take that chance to keep going with her own reasearch.

With a groan, she remembered the personal study she hadn't had time for this week. She wished so hard that she did, she had found that her personal studying down in Professor Snape's chambers was quite the relief from the people and work of the school. But she wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea to descend the stairs to the dungeons with the apparent foul mood that the normally snarky Professor was in. She had seen him storming about the school, his pronounced glare more prominant then ever. Then again, she remembered the difference between the man who stormed about the castle, and the man who had taken her flying, her let her sit in his rooms and study. Why was he such a different person?

"Library's closing, dearie." Madam Prince called down the huge room towards where Hermione was sitting, her squeaky shoes letting Hermione know that she was crossing the room between the shelves.

Sighing, Hermione picked up her books and collected all the notes she had made over the past four hours. Realising she had little time to make it back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Despite being Head Girl, she had found that making her way to the Common Room and collecting any students along the way probably saved quite a few from the wrath of the stressed Professors. More then once she'd caught Ron making his way back from somewhere - but she was kind enough not to ask. She was really beginning to learn the power of silence.

Turning a corner, she let out a gasp and jumped, her books dropping onto the corridor floor as she ran into someone coming the other way. Looking up, she found herself face to face with the angry Professor Snape.

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Snape had been stalking about the castle for the past three hours, knowing for a fact that he needn't worry about a certain Gryffindor trying to acess his rooms to study - he had seen her out of the corner of his eyes heading to the library hours before and knew that she'd been lost within her study for hours. He tried not to envy the library - how badly he wanted her company. He didn't try to explain why, didn't dare.

But now, he had been about to turn a corner to head back to his chambers, deciding to make another attempt at a particulary difficult potion he'd been trying to perfect. He had been trying for three weeks now, and it just didn't seem to be working, and along with everything else, he was reaching his wits end.

As he turned the corner, he was surprised to find someone coming the other way. He almost let out a cry of surprise as books flew in all directions, hitting him. His hands instinctively reached out to stop himself from falling over, grabbing the upper arms of the student before him, who had let out a squeal of surprise as they had both turned the corner at the same time, running into each other.

Looking down, he was surprised to find his face inches from that of Miss Granger's. Oh God, he thought, unable to move. Their eyes met, hers huge and filled with fear. Her fear caused anger to slip through his veins. So she was avoiding him - why else would such fear be showing in her brown eyes? Her breath was coming short and she began to stutterd. "P-professor, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just trying to-"

"Miss Granger, I ask that you refrain from storming about the castle in such a manner," he cut her off in what he hoped was a smooth voice. "You are Head Girl, are you not? I do not believe that the 'usual rules' apply to you, as you called them one day, I seem to recall. Therefore, there is no reason for you to be rushing about in such a way."

He watched as her eyes seemed to settle. He considered taking points from her precious Gryffindor House, but he stopped for a moment, for the first time ever, to wonder why he would be. Simply because she nearly bowled him over, or because she hadn't been down to study in his rooms? Deciding against taking points, then almost regretting it, he realised that his arms were still clutching her upper arms, and her arms must have reflexivly grabbed his back, as her arms were holding tight to the robes that covered his thin arms. He wondered if she'd realise that he'd be eating, then tried to tell himself that he didn't care. Why didn't it seem to be working!

Quickly, he took a step back from her. retracting her arms. She apparently wasn't expecting it, for her arms stayed holding his, and he found the young witch being thrust towards him, hitting his chest. With another squeal, she lost balance, and began to fall, taking him with her. Before he knew what was going on, he found himself slamming down onto the ground, a sharp pain rushing down his back. Something fell against his chest, and he knew without looking that the silly witch had landed upon him. He opened his eyes to find himself looking into the more horrified-then-before face of Hermione Granger. A strange thrill ran down his body as their eyes met and froze.

What was that behind the fear in her eyes?

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Okay, it was short, I know! Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up by Saturday. My Plot Bunny has left me stranded for a little, and since I won't be able to post for a day or two, hopefully he'll come back!