I hoped everyone enjoyed the pasta bake that I offered last chapter, lol. Enjoy this chapter as well!

Again, a warning that this chapter is been written on a computer that has no spell check, but since I've been rather lazy with my chapters lately, I thought I'd better post this one up anyway!

This is a short chapter, am pretty tired and all that jazz... and my plot bunny is hopping all over the computer.

Oh, and a big thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed my story, I made 1,000 reviews, which is like... wow, considering this is my first fic! I couldn't believe it! Thank you all soooooooooooo much, I love you all!

An extra big thanks to Lion and Bear (also known as Spot and Wick) for their unconditional support, I love you both, you're so awesome!

Hope you all like it :-)

--------------------------------------------

Chapter Forty-Five

Not for the first time, Snape found himself seated in his rooms that evening nursing a glass of firewhiskey. His day had not gone to plan. He hadn't had any intention to head down into the village, let alone speak to Miss Granger, let alone allow her to kiss him. What irritated him beyond belief, and pushed him into this drinking was the fact that he had thorougherly enjoyed it, despite it being a fast, quick kiss. The feel of the soft lips upon his were enough to make him want to lose control.

Instead, he had fled from her like a frightened rabbit. And now, sprawled in his armchair in a very unsightly fashion, he was regretting. And regret was something he did not enjoy feeling. But it was either that, or guilt about what he could fell arising as he thought of the way she had felt kissing him. If only she'd given him time to kiss her back...

No, thoughts like that won't do, he thought, reminding himself that he had invited the young witch down into his chambers the following day.

In his head, he turned over what she had told him about what she had read in that book. Part of him wished that he had taken that book from her, and borrowed it over night. If she was able to gleam that much information from the little that she seemed to have read, what else might have been hidden within the pages of such a book. "They normally occur between two people who are… searching." she had said. "They can also occur due to a strong connection between the two people." Snape wasn't too sure what to think of that piece of information. While he could now secretly admit that he had found himself haboring a liking for the Gryffindor chit, he wasn't sure about sharing a strong connection with the younger girl.

Holding the glass up to his lips, he allowed some of the burning liquid to slide down his throat, burning as it went. Clearly he wasn't drunk enough if he could still feel the burning of the drink. He wasn't sure if he was willing to allow himself to get that drunk, not tonight. Who knows what he'd do if he lost all control, like that other night. A shudder ran through his body, and he wished that he could still remember what had happened that night. He had been out of control, touching her, whispering in her ear. Though he'd not realised it at the time, he'd seen the look in her eyes when she'd told him about that. He had had an effect on her.

The knowledge that she was no longer his student slipped into his mind. She was eighteen, she was smart, she had kissed him...

He shook his head. This wasn't right, he shouldn't be behaving like this. Even if it was only his brain that believed it, for his body was certainly telling him otherwise. All this, and only after a peck, he thought with a groan. He hoped with desperation that he'd be able to hold on. Afterall, it was only two days left.

Two days and she'd be gone. The burning sensation in his throat was definately due to the liquor he was consuming, right?

-----------------------------------------------

After an evening of reading ideas of what she could do after leaving Hogwarts, and avoiding a certain topic with the other students in the common room, Hermione closed herself into her bedroom for what would be almost the last time. Tears prickled the back of her eyes. She wasn't ready to move beyond been given homework, beyond constantly in touch with her best friends, having people all around her. It helped her feel less like the loner she had felt in the first eleven years of her life.

And now it was coming to an end, quicker then she had ever thought it was.

Willing herself not to let the tears that were welling in her eyes to spill over, she thought it was time to begin the task of packing up the room, removing her personal things from the drawers and taking her photos from the walls. Tomorrow was her last day of doing nothing in the castle. Tuesday would bring the Graduation Ceremony, the ball, the dancing, the dresses, the fun, the goodbyes. Another night, and Wednesday morning she would leave Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a student forever. Part of her was entertaining the idea of returning one day as a Professor, to pass on the knowledge that she had gained. But not yet, she knew she still had much to learn before she could answer questions that any insistent questions that students might have for her. And what would she teach?

In her mind, she imagined returning to Hogwarts as a Professor in five years. Who would still be here? Professor McGonagall? Professor Hayrung? Professor Sprout? What teacher would step aside to allow her to teach, what opportunity would come up? What if Professor Snape was still there...?

Something inside her skipped as she thought of the dark Professor who would either be pacing the corridors in his usual menancing fashion or sitting in the private rooms that Hermione had come to enjoy spending time in. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her stomach, or worse yet, her heart that was jumping at the thought of the man. In her mind's eye, she saw him standing before her, as he had hardly hours before the in daylight during her Hogsmeade visit. She recalled the way he had searched her face, and before she could stop herself, she recalled his lips.

It was true that she had been foolish in pressing hers against his in such a fashion, but she had been unable to help herself when the tension had built between them. Was he angry at her? she wondered with desperation. She had seen shock flit through his eyes before he had turned away from her, telling her that she needed to hurry. He had also told her that she should go and visit him the following day, to continue telling him about the book she had found.

She had spent the time in Common Room reading the book's section on sharing dreams. What she had read her had made her blood run hot and cold, thrilled her and scared her. The connection that the book had suggested was something deeper then the affection she had once thought she might have about the Potions Master. For she knew she certainly had held some sort of liking - spending time with the man had helped her realise that he was not just the sarcastic bastard the students of the school witnessed him as. He had been kind to her during the time she had spent with her. She had realised just how much she enjoyed the dinners they had shared together, and her head spun when she remembered the day she had fed him lunch, the way his name had sounded as she had encouraged to eat.

Something that might have been terror flew through her as she realised that what the book was suggesting mightn't have been as far fetched as she had originally thought. At least, not on her side. She made a note to herself to try and find out about how far fetched it was for the Professor, the next day.

----------------------------------------

The air in the Great Hall was an air of excitement, Snape noticed with a sour face as he sat down to breakfast the following morning. The entire school was in celebration as all exams were over, and they would be leaving on Wednesday, one entire year never to return... so Snape hoped. Unconciously, his eyes roamed the Gryffindor table, where they fell on the young witch he was expecting a visit from after breakfast.

Hermione looked somewhat pale and withdrawn, seated at the table, one elbow holding her head up and she ate what looked as though it might be porridge. The two twits she often chose to spend time where seated on either side of her, talking animately and not paying attention to the witch. Under the table, Snape's hands were balled into fists. Couldn't the stupid little shits see what was happening with the girl who sat next to them? Clearly not, allowing their Gryffindor arrogance to take over and not care about the people who were around them, people who had always been there.

With a sneer, he remembered all the times he had helped the ungrateful brat, only to be repaid by the shit questionin him at every turn, insulting him, publically announcing his hatred. Allowing his eyes to fall back upon Miss Granger, he was once again glad for her being much more mature that her two clingons. He wondered time and time again how she managed to deal with their stupidity day after day. He was impressed with her patience, he had been ready to throw the two fools long ago.

Quite suddenly, a pair of brown eyes met his, as the subject of his scrutiny looked straight up and into his eyes. A wealth of knowledge passed between them, and Snape knew what was going within her head without having to pry. Miss Granger was frightened and worried. Snape wished to all Hell that she wasn't frightened by him. Unbelievably, seeing the worry in her eyes made Snape wish to rise, walk the length of the Hall, take the Gryffindor in his arms and worse yet, kiss away her fear.. That want shot through him, and before he could react to her, he rose and strode from the Hall, not daring to glance her way again.

Shutting himself in his chambers, he felt shame as his desire. His night had been filled by dreams he would never speak about in his life, dreams that he was sure he could be ashamed of. And now, he had seen her sitting there, looking so down and he had wanted nothing more than to see comfort her. And Snape did not comfort witches, even though he had on many occasions before this one.

Making an attempt to clamp down on his desire, he strode through his chambers to his bathroom. He was determined not to let anything happen with the witch today. After the night he had, he felt that if he allowed even a brushing of their hands, while they talked of doing something as intimate as sharing a dream, he might just lose control. And as she was still here for another 48 hours, he could not afford that.

Not yet.

-----------------------------------------

Short, but meh... tired, lol. Will hopefully get the next chapter done on Saturday. I had planned the content of chapter 46 to be in this chapter, but the silly little plot bunny wished to shove this in, and this is the result... hope it's acceptable!

Here's some pizza and chocolate cake to celebrate my making 1,000 reviews! Thanks again all!

I've got three more chapters planned for this story, so hopefully all will go according to plan and it'll be allllllll good!