Blurg. It's Monday, I think I've got the flu or something, I feel really crappy and this chapter just kind of came tumbling out. Nothing I wanted to happen happened, lol, but that's okay.

Enjoy the chapter anyway, and hopefully I'll be in more control of the next one!

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Chapter Thirty-Nine

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Ron whinged. "We've been studying for hours!"

"And the exams are but hours away!" Hermione cried, glancing up from her Defence Against the Dark Arts notes. Ron, Harry and she were perched in her room, studying away from the frayed nerves of the common room.

Ron gazed wistfully towards the clear sky that showed through Hermione's window. "The exams are a week away," he pressed. "I haven't been flying since we won the Cup, I'm dying to."

"I hardly think you'll die from lack of flying!" Hermione snapped. "But fine, if it's so fucking important to you, go."

Both Harry and Ron hardly flinched at her unusual swearing. They'd suffered through dealing with her during exam time for six years now – they had come to expect it. But Ron still quickly backed off. "No, you're right, I should stay."

For Hermione, however, it was too late. Standing, she snatched up a pile of notes. "Too late, you've done it this time." And with that, she stormed from the room, leaving the boys quite shocked.

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Hermione had already reached the library door when she realised she'd picked up the wrong pile of parchment. Clenched tightly in her hand were her private study notes, not her homework.

With a groan, she leaned back against a wall. There was no way she was going to go back to the Common Room and risk seeing the boys. But she couldn't study without her notes. Looking at the notes which she held, she began to realise that maybe the boys were right. It'd been almost two weeks since she'd worked on her private study – maybe taking a break from revision wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Making up her mind, she made her decent through Hogwarts towards the formidable dungeons, not meeting any students along the way. Since it was a sunny Sunday afternoon, very few students were lingering in the corridors. The fifth and seventh years were most likely studying feverishly, while the other students were probably taking full advantage of the warm weather.

Crossing the large Entrance Hall, Hermione met the first person she'd come across since leaving Gryffindor Tower. Professor McGonagall was coming in through the open front doors of the castle. Behind her, Hermione could see students out on the grounds, some apparently studying while other were just lying around talking.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Hermione greeted the Headmistress.

"And you, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Where might you be headed on this fine afternoon?

Despite wanting to avoid lying, Hermione wasn't sure how the strict Headmistress would react to Hermione, a Gryffindor, heading down to study with Snape during the weekend – and right before exams as well. Surely she'd be angry at Hermione for taking time away from her very important revision.

So it was with a smile that she simply waved the papers in her hand and responded with, "studying."

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall asked no further questions, instead bid her good luck with exams and continued on her path up the marble staircase.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione headed for the dungeons.

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Minerva watched with curiosity as Hermione Granger double checked that no one was watching her, and then made a bee line for the dungeons.

There was hardly a doubt in Minerva's mind as to where the Gryffindor was headed.

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Snape once again cursed the way even the most timid knocking on his office door resounded through his dungeon chambers. However, the cursing ceased when his mind told him just who could possibly be at the door on a Sunday afternoon.

Throwing aside the black towel, he snatched up his wand and cast a drying spell over his body before magicing his clothes on and striding through his chambers to reach his office door.

Just as he'd expected, Hermione Granger stood upon the threshold. It was the first time for what seemed like a long time that he'd seen her outside of class time. Not returning her warm smile, he stepped aside, giving her entry to his rooms.

She stood still, looking somewhat uneasy for a moment. "Do come in, Miss Granger," he finally said, quite dryly. "Unless you do not intend to and wish to leave?" Snape hoped dearly that his slight fear that she could leave did not show in his voice.

Whether it did or it didn't, Miss Granger still entered the office, a collection of parchment clutched in her hand, along with an eagle feather quill. "Am I interrupting anything, sir?" She asked, her eyes flicking to his head. It was then that he realised that while he had dried his body with a spell, his hair still hung wet around his face.

With an irritated flick, Snape quickly dried his hair via magic. Instantly, it was back to its greasy state.

He caught her still looking at his hair, an amused expression on her face. "Something funny, Miss Granger?" he asked softly.

She tired to smother the look, but it was too late. He closed the door, then turned to advance on the witch. "Pray tell, what makes you laugh so?"

"I've just solved the mystery that haunts every student," she whispered and he watched through narrowed eyes as she gestured to his head. "Your hair, sir."

Unable to stop himself, Snape raised a hand to touch the tips of his hair. "What about it?" He hissed.

Miss Granger looked away. "You…" he watched as she swallowed. "You really shouldn't use magic on your hair, sir."

He tried not to let his shock show. "I've no time nor care for anything else." He turned. "Now, come, Miss Granger, I've got something to show you." Without looking to check whether she was following him or not, he strode into his sitting room. He sat down on the couch, and when the nervous witch entered the room, he noted that he stayed standing. "Well, take a seat, Miss Granger." He raised an eyebrow at her.

She took a seat on the other end of the couch, placing her quill and papers on the coffee table that sat in front of them. "What is it that you'd like to show me, sir?" she asked politely.

Raising an eyebrow as well as his wand, Snape said in a clear tone "Accio Hermione's notes". A moment later, in his hand he held the piece of parchment that he had found in One Thousand Forbidden Potions. Handing it to her, he murmured, "I believe this belongs to you."

However, Snape had to admit that he didn't want to hand it over – it felt like it was his own now, the amount of time he had spent poring over it in the past week. He was guilty of putting several small creases in it. "The ideas are fascinating, Miss Granger." He informed her in a quiet voice, shifting so that even as she held the small piece of paper that was crammed full of writing and symbols and equations, he could easily see it, despite already knowing the entire contents of the parchment by heart.

"I – I didn't mean for anyone to see it, sir," the young witch mumbled, turning red.

He took a small amount of pleasure in her discomfort. "One could assume that you did, leaving it laying around in someone else's text books. However, now that I have found it, and as your Gryffindor mind must have deducted, read it, I must say that I find your ideas most interesting." His lips quirked up into a smirk before he could stop them. "Besides, do you think I was going to let you leave Hogwarts without asking just what you had been studying for so long in my rooms?"

"No, I suppose not," she whispered. She shifted in her seat, drawing his attention to her instead of the parchment. Not a good idea, he realised, as he drew in a breath. "May I enquire as to which ideas you found particularly interesting?"

"The idea that such a potion as the Haunting Potion could be used in a legal, positive way, if lyke was added into the mix at the right time." Before he could stop it, one of his long fingers reached out to show her exactly which potion he was talking about. However, she too had moved to point it out, and before either of them realised, their hands touched.

Miss Granger froze, sucking in a breath. He too froze, his fingertip gently brushing the parchment. She turned to look at him, her brown eyes locking his. A startled kind of look appeared as she seemed to search his eyes. Idly, Snape wondered what she was looking for. Was she looking for the same thing in his eyes that he was in hers?

Before anything could happen, before he could find his answers, a sharp rapping at his office door broke through the room. Instantly, they both snapped their fingers away from the parchment, both turning their heads.

A second later, the rap came again, and Snape stood, smoothing the front of his robes. "I will return in a moment, Miss Granger," he informed her neutrally, before leaving the room, not daring to cast another look at the witch on his couch. He pulled the door that separated his private quarters and his office closed, meaning that who ever was at his door could not know whom he might have been… entertaining.

Wrenching open the door, not needing to even try to produce a scowl, for the interruption had brought upon one of his most vicious, he was surprised to see Minerva McGonagall standing before him. "What do you want?" He asked in a bored tone, holding the door slightly ajar, making it clear that she was not welcome, that he was in no mood to talk to her.

"I think you and I need to have a little chat, Severus." Minerva informed him.

He pressed his lips together. Of course the bloody Headmistress would demand a talk right now, of all times. "I'm sorry Minerva, but I'm currently in the middle of something, perhaps I could come to your office later in the day." He made a move to close the door, but was quickly stopped when she raised her hand.

"You needn't hide Miss Granger from my view, Severus; I know she's down here."

If he had been anyone else but himself, Snape might not have been able to conceal the shock that ran like ice through his veins. The tone in which Minerva spoke, and the look on her face told her this was not going to be a pleasant visit. "Yes, Minerva, Miss Granger is indeed down here." He sneered. "She's been doing some private study down here."

"Allow me to come in, please Severus." Minerva pushed. "I am not going to reprimand Miss Granger or you for her presence down here, as long as you can show to me that it is appropriate."

Snape sneered at the Headmistress, but let the door open more. "You think I would indulge in something inappropriate with a student, let alone with a student from your favoured, precious house?" He asked in a taunting tone. He prayed to anyone who might listen that she would not be able to see past his mask, would not discover that which he had spent an entire week denying since that evening in the corridor.

Not that he had any need to deny it, for it was not real, he reminded himself sternly.

Minerva stepped into his office. "Allowing her to study in your private rooms, Severus? Most unlike you, I am surprised she is still alive."

"It is not as if she has not been here before, Minerva," Snape responded coldly. "I seem to remember that it was you who burdened me with the task of looking after her all those weeks ago." Looking back, Severus realised that the week no longer seemed as though it had been a burden – had it even at the time?

"May I speak with her?" Minerva asked.

"Need you ask?" With a stormy look, Snape swung his wand in a way he knew was too harsh, causing the door to fly open and swing around to hit the wall with a slam, rattling some of the specimens that lined the walls of his office. He just hated the idea of anyone invading his privacy. Which he realised was completely ridiculous, seeming as he allowed a certain young witch to enter his chambers whenever she liked. And lately, she had been invading all aspects of his privacy, whether she knew it or not.

Through the doorway, he saw Hermione still sitting on the couch, a quill in her hand, a book open on the table, some parchment midway through being scribbled on. He smirked, knowing that Minerva would not be able to take this as any way but what it was – innocent.

"Hello, Professor." The Head Girl said, looking up from the open book before her.

"Miss Granger, I must admit to being quite surprised to find you here," Minerva exclaimed, causing a sound of utter disbelief to come ripping from Snape's throat. The Headmistress turned to glare at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor Snape has been kind enough to allow me to conduct some private study down here on occasions," Hermione glanced Snape's way, as though checking that it was okay to say that. He gave a tiny nod, telling her it was okay. "I haven't been done here much lately, and I've gotten behind in my work."

"May I ask what you are researching?" Minerva half turned, her eyes locking on Snape for a brief moment.

Hermione offered her a piece of parchment. "I've been looking into alternative uses for seemingly dangerous and forbidden potions." She gave a wistful smile. "Of course, Professor Snape has not allowed me to test these potions, but I believe, in theory, that they would work."

Something swept through Snape, and he knew in the heartbeat that if Hermione were to ask for his permission to brew potions using his private lab, he would not hesitate to give her access.

Minerva politely declined examining the paper that Hermione offered her to look at, instead, asking a few more questions. Snape stood by the door, his black cloak folding over his chest along with his arms, closing him off. He watched the exchange with a neutral expression, all the while plotting ways to throw the elder witch out of his rooms. Nosey bitch, he thought.

After about half hour, and forcing Snape to fetch a cup of tea, Minerva left, apparently giving her approval to allowed Hermione to study in the Potions Master's rooms. Snape wondered if Hermione would have kept coming down, even if Minerva had expressed a desire for it to stop. As she was friends with Potter, Snape knew that Hermione had a certain disregard for rules when she thought no one was paying attention.

He hoped, how he hoped, that she would have. But now, he didn't need to worry.

Closing the door after Minerva left, Snape returned to his sitting room, where a nervous Hermione waited. When he entered the room, he watched as a small smile crept onto her face, and he felt something in him jump. Bidding her luck with her studies, and turned and strode back into his office, seating himself at the large desk, staring blankly at the jars that lined his walls.

He couldn't look at the witch at the moment. He had now fully recognised the signs, when a fierce need to protect her had overcome him while watching the exchange between her and Minerva. He groaned and sat back in his chair, tipping his head back.

Thankfully, NEWTs were only a week away. One week of torture, he promised himself. That would be all.

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Yeah… I don't know either.