Sincere apologies for taking an extra day with this – life's a little frantic at the moment with my mum away – and aren't I meant to be on holidays! –Sigh--

Enjoy this chapter for now!

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Chapter Thirty-Four

Ron and Harry reacted exactly how Hermione had said they would, accusing her of wanting to spend all her time with the Vampire of the Dungeons as they walked towards Hogsmeade the following day.

Hermione had not returned to the Gryffindor Common Rom until the morning before breakfast to shower and change clothes. She hadn't intended to spend the entire night in Professor Snape's quarters, let alone in his bed. Oh, nothing had happened, despite sharing his bed once again and talking well into the night. He'd never given her the answer to her question, only flushed, mumbled something about being foolish and quickly turning the conversation towards a subject that had lead them well into the evening. She had desperately wanted to tell him that it wasn't foolish, but she'd never gotten the chance. It was sometime around two in the morning when she'd woken to find Snape once again carrying her towards his bed.

That morning she'd woken, horribly embarrassed by the fact that despite her fact that she was sleeping under the covers and he atop of the bed, she had managed to throw her arm over his side and down his front, her hand pressed against his chest as thought making an attempt to pull him closer. She hoped that he hadn't awaken at any stage to notice that, despite his hand resting atop of her, his fingers entwined with hers.

But now, as she walked towards the tiny wizard village near Hogwarts castle, she was forced to endure the taunts of her two best friends. Only Ginny remained quiet. "I'm surprised you're not still up at school, Hermione," Harry said in a scandalised tone.

"You know, you're acting as though you don't even want me around," Hermione snapped. "I could have stayed and studied with Professor Snape, but-"

"Professor Snape!" Ron cut her off. "You're not calling him Severus yet? Or better yet, Sevvie?"

She spun around and gave her two best friends her best glare. "Really mature, Ron." She snapped again. "I'm going to the bookstore. See you later." With that, she turned and strode towards the cramped, dusty shop.

A small though in the back of her head told her that all she'd need now was a billowing black cloak.

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Still inside the castle paced the man whom wore the exact billowing cloak Hermione was thinking of. Not that he know that. Snape was pacing his rooms, the halls, the empty classrooms and the school library, desperate to trick his mind into thinking about anything but that blasted dream and Hermione. For she'd been spending a lot of time on his mind lately.

Though he wouldn't admit it to her, he had woken early that morning and had felt Hermione's hand splayed across his chest, in her sleep. It had been against his better judgement that he'd allowed himself to share a bed with her again, despite her adamant insistence. But when he'd woken to find her making an innocent, unconscious attempt to hold him close, he couldn't help bit allow himself a rare moment of indulgence, laying his hand over hers and lacing their fingers together before drifting back to sleep for a few hours.

He didn't know if she had noticed at any stage, or if she'd noticed, but she'd removed her hand from his chest by the time he woke, and she was still asleep. He hadn't wanted to wake her, she looked so calm sleeping like that. But duty called.

Now she was in the village with those idiots, and he pacing the corridors like a mad fool, wanting to hex anybody who got in his way, and the knowledge that he couldn't was driving him mad. Couldn't what asked a voice in his head.

Finally, he gave in without realising it. He had already left the castle grounds and was on the outskirts of Hogsmeadea before he began cursing himself silently for leaving the safety of the castle. Here in Hogsmeade, students were milling around, enjoying the sunny weather. Here, he ran the risk of running into Potter of Weasley, or worse yet, Miss Granger. Yet, he didn't turn back.

He knew he should have answered her question the evening before, since he had been the one telling her to ask it. But he hadn't expected her to do so. So instead he'd acted like a foolish third year talking to his first crush. He'd kicked himself mentally for being so pathetic. Yet the evening had been pleasent enough, talking about anything they could think of. She was certainly well-read, and after years of teaching dunderhead students, Snape was certainly appreciative. Even if she did fall asleep in the middle of him telling her about a theory on alternative uses for powdered lion spine. For the first time in his whole sixteen years of teaching, he didn't mind a student falling asleep while he was talking. Not that she was actually his student anymore.

Avoiding looking at students as much as he could, he strode past The Three Broomsticks, past all the laughing, drinking students who were wandering around the village in the Muggle shorts and t-shirts. The weather isn't that warm he thought with disgust when he saw a sixth year wearing shorts that were barely there. He hoped to the high sky that he would see Hermione wearing anything like that. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold back.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that the Bookstore, his favourite place in Hogsmeade aside from The Hogs Head, was reasonably empty, quite devoid of loud students. Stepping inside, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness inside the small shop compared to the bright sunshine that adorned the outside world. He took pleasure in the smell of old books and paper and leather, a smell that reminded him there was much to learn in the world. However, such a smell would never beat that of a well brewed potion. He didn't care what kind of potion it was, along as it was brewed correctly, it was beautiful to him.

Though he knew he should be doing some more research on the dream, he first headed for the potions book. Surely Miss Granger had already been by that morning to already get any books she thought would be necessary.

However, his assumption was quite wrong, as there in the back of the shop, sitting on the wooden floor and surrounded by tottering piles of books sat Hermione Granger. To his delight, she was not waring teeny shorts, but a part of blue pants that appeared to be much too short and a pale coloured sleeveless shirt. Her hair was somewhat haphazardly tucked away from her face, though strands were falling loose. He had only noticed her sitting there when she'd reached up to tuck a stray strand behind her ear. Snape had to admit that she was… quite a sight.

He approached with a silence he had long ago perfected, although he imagines a raging herd of hippogriffs could had stampeded the store and she might have only just noticed. Foolish girl, he thought. He had also perfected the art of being aware of his surroundings at all times, after being caught unawares by the infamous school yard bullies in his schooling years, and the years of teaching foolish imbeciles for the past sixteen years.

Standing over her, he smirked as she still hadn't looked up. "I see I was correct in saying that you take every opportunity to learn, Miss Granger," he drawled softly.

His words were greeted with a brief look up before she responded with, "Well, I could just sit around all day like some people I know, but I believe that time is better spent learning. Who knows when such knowledge may come in handy, sir."

Somewhat surprised by her calm reaction, Snape made an attempt to tell himself that he was highly upset by her lack response, but he couldn't seem to do it.

"I quite agree with you, Miss Granger," he said. "But your tone tells me that your friends do not."

Her hand, which he had once upon a time found annoying and frustrating, waved dismissively in the air in front of him. "What does it matter?" she asked, but he noticed the way her voice cracked slightly.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the pair of them and Snape noticed that Hermione appeared to have stopped reading. In an effort to break the tension, he reached down and scooped up one of the many books that surrounded the witch on the floor. "Do you intend on buying all these?" He asked in a light tone.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I was just flicking through them. I'm just hoping to find something more…" he voice trailed off, and he watched as her cheeks reddened. She suddenly looked up and met his eyes square one. "I found something, sir."

With a flick of his wand, Snape sent all the books surrounding her back to all their original places, but she clung to one. "I want to buy this one, sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, hurry Miss Granger," he drawled. "And then perhaps we could take a walk and you could tell me what you might have found." Crossing his arms, he waited for her to buy her book before leading her away from the crowded village centre.

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With robes and hair as black as night, a face as pale as the moon, and eyes as deep as craters, Severus Snape was midnight in the bright sunshine, Hermione mused. She allowed the man to lead her away, feeling a sense of surreal settling over her.

"What did you find out?" he finally asked quietly as they walked slowly around the edge of the village.

As she was still making an attempt to deal with the idea of taking a day time stroll around the village with a Professor she had once spent a moment entertaining the idea that he might have been a vampire, took a moment to answer. "This book had some interesting ideas," she said, handing over Connecting Witches and Wizards Throughout the Ages by William Hope. "There an entire section on dream sharing.

He didn't take the book, only gave her a sideways glance as they walked down a dusty path. "Over the past seven years, Miss Granger, I have endured you reciting entire text books in my class. Surely you can uphold that wholly annoying tradition." Hermione noticed his voice was not quite filled with as much venom as it usually did when he referred to her know-it-all habit.

Taking a breath, she began to explain. "Well, as we already discovered, sharing dreams are incredibly rare. They normally occur…" she swallowed. Was she ready to admit what she had read, both to herself and him? "They normally occur between two people who are… searching"

"Searching for what?" he asked in a soft voice.

Her voice caught. "It could be for a number of things, but clearly something they share. Perhaps something one has – that's what happened with us, I assume – or something they both want. Well, at least in the cases I've read so far."

"Is that the only way?" It felt rather odd for Hermione to lecturing her Professor.

"Well… no." She admitted. "They can also occur due to a strong connection between the two people. Never strictly a witch and a wizard, but perhaps two witches, or two wizards. But usually two that, yes, have a strong connection already forged. Lovers, perhaps, or the very best of friends. Like Professor McGonagall and…" her voice trailed off.

"What were you searching for, Miss Granger, that allowed you into my dreams?" Professor Snape asked quietly, stopping her.

She averted her eyes, studying the ground beneath her feet. "I-I don't know, sir." She answered honestly. "I suppose I've been wondering more and more about you and what you've seen, after what you told me on Quidditch Pitch. The fact that you didn't know, and was being reminded. I didn't know that it would happen…" Silence fell over them again before she picked up the conversation again. "It suggested that the dreams might occur when the two are most vulnerable. For example, I was completely set on my NEWTs, exhausting myself."

He gave her a small smile. "And I had my own reasons for being such a… vulnerable mind. These days, it feels nice to remember that I don't always have to be so shut off from the world."

"You just choose to be instead." The words fell from Hermione's mouth before she thought about them, and when she realised what she'd said, she brought her hand up to her mouth and stared in horror at her Professor, waiting for her punishment. But it never came.

"You can hardly blame me, Miss Granger," he said in a quiet voice. "The world is hardly opening up to me. Do you believe that just because the Order announced me innocent that everyone believes them? I am still a hated man, and not just by students."

She lowered her eyes back down the ground. "I don't hate you, Professor," she whispered.

"I must admit to being surprised by that," he said softly. "Especially after that dream." She raised her eyes to his, and found them searching her as though looking for the anger towards him that she might have disguised. In truth, she had no anger for him, even if he expected it, especially after he had kissed her.

"I was not angry with you, Professor." She said quietly, looking directly in his eyes. "Surprised by what you may have done, but not angry, more scared by everything else."

"Surprised?"

She nodded. "It was kind of a shock…" she admitted, biting her bottom lip. "But, well, a surprise that didn't bother me." She didn't know why she was saying this, but then again, Professor Snape didn't seem to be acting like Professor Snape, leading her down a dusty track and asking her questions. But on top of that, this was Professor Snape, who if following what William Hope had summarised in the quick paragraph she'd read in his book, she shared a strong connection with already, if they'd shared a dream.

"It didn't bother you?" Professor Snape asked slowly.

She shook her head. "No. I was simply curious to know how it happened." It was then that she realised she'd grown to be almost as tall as him. This made her feel that little bit more equal to the man before her.

"We were both vulnerable, Hermione," he whispered, still searching her face for something. Silence fell again, and she tried to work up the courage to ask the question that was brewing in her mind. Instead, she looked down at her watch.

"Oh, we have to get back to school, Professor!" She exclaimed the mentally kicked herself. What a goody-two-shoes she sounded like. Ron would be gloating, she thought bitterly.

"Yes…" he whispered, and she realised he was still looking at her quite intently. She wondered briefly if he was going to kiss her again. She realised that she wanted him to.

A moment later, they were still looking at each other, and Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. She stepped up to him, stood on tip toes and reached up with her lips, pressing them against his in a chaste kiss, but enough to get a taste of the dark man. "Oh!" She let a breath when she set herself back fully on the ground below her. It was an effort not to lick her lips.

"Oh, indeed," her Professor said in a neutral voice. They both looked at each other in shock, before he turned back to the direction of the castle. "Perhaps we should both Apperate a little closer to the school, or else you'll be late." He took a step away from her. "Perhaps you could come and see me tomorrow, and tell me more about what you found in that book of yours." Without a word more, only a slight pop, he was gone.

Hermione stood rooted the spot. I just kissed Professor Snape! Was all she could think, as she raced towards the school, too confused to try Apperating. And worse yet, she thought, was the fact that she had enjoyed it.

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Bit of a stupid ending, lol. Hopefully I'll make up for it next chapter, and who knows when that'll be posted. Hope you enjoy this one for one.

Tonight I'm making 3 cheeses and onion pasta bake for dinner, who wants some?