"I am not in the market for new friends, Miss Granger. And if I were, I am quite sure I could do better than to turn to a self-important ex-student with absurd delusions of grandeur. Good night."

Without a backward glance he left her in the dark.

Hermione stood where she was, blinking in disbelief. Emotions ran through her like wildfire: embarrassment, humiliation, hurt, and anger. Of these, anger was the strongest…and the one that chose to stay.

"That prick!" she barked to herself. She had known he was an infuriating man, closed off to accepting the advances of others, whether they be friendly or otherwise. She had not fooled herself into thinking that he would wrap her in a warm hug and invite her to his rooms for a spot of tea and a chat; that was not Severus Snape. But neither had she expected such a cutting and cruel response to her offer. Perhaps, she told herself, I was completely right about him from the beginning. Perhaps he is the vicious, heartless bastard that people think he is. The Snape that she had recently been envisioning in her head would never have reacted to her as this man had tonight. He would never have been so mean, so bitter, such a…such a… "Such a little prick!" she again snapped into the night. "He's a right little prick!"

Professor Snape swept into his room and closed the door behind him with a thunderous slam. In a rare fit of anger, he unfastened his robes and threw them across the room, where they fell in a heap on the floor. "Accio vodka", he snarled. He plucked the bottle of Muggle alcohol from the air as it hovered near him and took several long swallows. Grimacing at the harshness, he slumped into a chair and prepared to drink away the events of the night.

Damn her! What right did she have to try and impose herself on his life? And to come in and make him think of Lily again…after all these years.

Lily.

Rubbing his forehead, Snape tried to calm himself. He was not a man who often let his emotions get the best of him. He prided himself on being able to control nearly every situation that he was put in…and he conveniently ignored the fact that doing so played a huge part in his solitude. He had learned that forging close ties to others was dependent on allowing them their freedom, and this was something that he was not wont to do. Trust and respect were not gifts that Severus Snape gave easily; as such, he had found that it was easier to avoid relationships altogether.

Well, that and the fact that those I love tend to die…

And here was Granger, so sure that with a few nice words he would crumple at her feet and pledge his undying friendship and love. Ha!

Whoever said anything about love?

Ignoring this thought, Snape tipped back the bottle again, relishing the soothing burn it brought. Drinking to escape was foolish, he knew. But sometimes even he was not strong enough to fight.

"Incendio," he muttered, and the light from the fireplace flames pronounced the deep lines in his forehead, and darkened the circles under his eyes.

He lost track of time as he sat there, eyes staring at the fire and heart seeing memories. Lily, Albus, Granger, Potters, Lucius, Voldemort…they all were there. Unbeknownst to him, a myriad of expressions crossed his face as he sat: contempt, annoyance, amusement, fear. And on more than one occasion, his features were softened by a faint smile. Anyone looking in on Snape during this period of recollection would have found him unrecognizable at times.

Albus sharing a brandy with him, their feet propped up on opposite sides of the desk, a bowl of lemon drops between them…Lily, her hair pouring over her shoulders, lying on her stomach on the bed with a book in front of her, suddenly looking up at him with an explosive smile…Lucius, his eyes cold and his smile colder, handing him his Death Eater's mask in a darkened room…Granger, her voice soft and her eyes wide and anxious. "I think you lost damn near every real friend you had in that war,"…Lily crying, her hand pressed to her belly…Voldemort laughing…Lucius knowing…

Shaking himself suddenly from his reverie, Severus stood and pulled on his customary black robes. I have to get out, he thought to himself. A walk…something… Opening his door, he nearly trampled over the Headmistress.

"Oh!" she cried, taking a few steps back. "Severus, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry, Minerva. I didn't realize you were there."

Being a friend with genuine affection for Snape, the elderly witch chose not to mention the scent of alcohol drifting around him; nor did she call attention to the very slight slur in his words. Instead, she tucked her arm through his and smiled up at him. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"I'm not really sure," he answered honestly. "I felt that a walk was in order, but I didn't have a specific destination in mind."

"Well, that's just perfect then! I had come down to ask if we might chat for a bit. Would you mind if I accompanied you on your walk?"

Severus sighed internally, but he would not dream of turning her away. "Of course, Minerva. That would be delightful."

They walked slowly through the corridors of the schools, not talking much. Their silence was comfortable and Severus realized that with Albus now gone, the new Headmistress was the only person he knew that he had that level of compatibility with. This understanding both saddened and calmed him, and he turned to her with a warm smile.

I won't ask him what he's thinking, Minerva thought to herself, but, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles!

On the school grounds they made their way to the lake and sat together on a small bench by its shore. The walk in the fresh air had definitely been beneficial for Snape's mood…his mind was no longer a jumble of alcohol-induced memories. The moon was reflected gloriously in the water, and he found himself wishing that he was with a partner of a romantic persuasion.

Fool, he chided himself. You killed any days of romance you might have enjoyed long ago.

"So, Minerva. You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes, Severus, I did. I noticed that you took my advice and asked Miss Granger to dance this evening."

Snape felt the anger and sorrow that had been ebbing inside of him start to build again, and McGonagall immediately reached over and patted his knee. "Now, don't go getting all huffy again, dear," she chuckled. "I'm merely making an observation."

"Yes, I did dance with her," he answered simply.

"She's a lovely young lady. And I believe that she's quite fond of you." Snape snorted, but before he could interrupt, the Headmistress continued, "Did you know that you were one of the first that she asked after when the fighting was done?"

Severus' surprise registered on his face. "Is that so?"

"Yes, indeed. She was there, of course, with Harry, and she knew that he was all right. She asked first for Ronald, naturally; he was hurt so badly, none of us were sure how he would be." Snape nodded in agreement. He had seen the hex that the Weasley boy had been hit with, and he was frankly astonished that the damage had not been worse. "The second person she asked for was you."

"I'm sure she simply wanted to make sure that I was apprehended for my crimes, Minerva," he sneered.

"Certainly not, Severus, and you know that!" she snapped. Severus managed to look ashamed, as though he'd just been reprimanded by a gentle grandmother for stealing a cookie. "She has maintained your innocence from the beginning, and I will not let you take that away from her! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Headmistress. You are right."

With a deep sigh, Minerva looked out at the lake. So lovely, she thought. It's so interesting how something that looks so dark and deep, so full of mysteries in the daylight, can be so astoundingly beautiful in the night.

"Severus, I have to tell you something that you are probably not going to like." A quick glance toward him confirmed that his expression was now guarded. "Before Albus died - before you and he came to your agreement – he spoke to me about you."

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted there to be someone here who understood you, Severus. Someone who knew of your past and the reasons why you made some of your choices. He didn't want you to be alone."

"And what," Snape asked in a low, dangerous voice, "did he tell you?"

Turning toward him, she said simply, "He told me everything."

Hermione had almost reached her room when she heard Harry calling her.

"Harry, I don't want to hear any more about Snape right now," she sighed.

"Agreed. Can I just come in to talk?"

"I guess," she shrugged. She wasn't much in the mood for company, but she also was too tired to argue with Harry at this point. Turning toward the portrait over her doorway, she said, "Trembling monkeys."

"What!" Harry laughed, as the portrait swung open.

"Trembling monkeys. The password is 'trembling monkeys'. Don't ask me why, I've no idea."

Harry followed her into her room, his laughter building as he sat down. "It's not that funny, Harry," Hermione shouted to him from her closet.

"Yes it is!" he yelled back, gasping between his chuckles.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry, grow up," she admonished, as she came back in and sat on her bed. "It's just some ridiculous password that some boob made up, and now I'm stuck with it!"

Harry looked at her and tried his best to put on a serious face, but failed miserably. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he finally choked out, "but trembling monkeys make me laugh!"

As he bent over the arm of the chair, laughing hysterically, Hermione felt the corners of her mouth twitching. She tried not to lose her composure, intent on showing Harry just how immature he could be. But the longer she sat there, watching her friend pound on the chair and wipe tears from his face, the harder it became. Finally, after Harry let out a rather loud and unceremonious snort, she gave in and joined him.

"Trembling monkeys! Oh, no!" Harry was laughing so hard his voice came out as a high-pitched squeak, causing Hermione to double over on her bed.

"They make you laugh!" she cried, her arms clasped around her midsection, her mascara running in rivulets down her cheeks.

They laughed until it hurt, and then they laughed some more. They laughed as only best friends can: raucous, unrestrained, vulnerable laughter. They laughed as souls who have been pushed to the brink and had survived must laugh – a symbolic thumbing of the nose at fate and destiny.

Gradually they calmed down. "Accio tissues," Hermione croaked from where she lay on the bed, sprawled on her back with her hair in a shambles around her. Still giggling, she took one and passed the box to Harry.

"Oh, I needed that!" she flopped back on the bed, wiping her eyes.

"Bloody hell, that did feel good, didn't it?" Harry smiled fondly at her, and Hermione felt some of the weight that had been surrounding her heart for so long lift. They had done it…Voldemort was dead, and the war was over. They had lost friends, it was true; some that were more like family. But the fear that they had lived under – the constant pressure of knowing what was to come – was gone.

"Harry? We really did it, didn't we?"

He looked away for a moment, and Hermione saw his jaw working. She knelt in front of him and touched his hand gently. "Harry?" When he turned to her, she saw fresh tears in his eyes, but no laughter to go with them this time.

"It's over, 'Mione. It's finally over." His bottom lip trembled as the tears spilled over his lashes, and he looked like such a sad, lost little boy that she immediately gathered him in her arms and rocked him as he wept. It occurred to her that through all of this, he had never cried. At least not in front of her; but if the heart-wrenching sobs that shook him now were any indication, this was the first time he had allowed himself to let go. She knew he was weeping for many things: the parents he would never know, the friends who had fallen, the parts of his childhood that were stolen forever from him, and - not least of all - out of relief.

The responsibilities that had fallen on him would have been unfair and cruel to a man. He had only been a boy; his biggest concerns should have been playing with his friends and thinking about girls. But instead, he had to grow up under the tutelage of wizards and witches who would teach him - among other things - to kill. And at the end of it…even though he had saved the world and countless lives with his courage and conviction…it had brought back nothing that he had lost.

Yes, he was The Boy Who Lived. But for tonight, she would let him mourn The Boy Who Died.

After a long time, the heaving of his shoulders slowed, and he quieted. She continued to rock him gently and stroke his hair until he reached past her for the box of tissues. Wiping his eyes, he looked up at her sheepishly.

"I'm sorry. That kind of snuck up on me."

"Don't apologize, Harry. That was long overdue." She gave him a soft smile and asked, "Are you okay now?"

"Yeah…as a matter of fact, I think I feel better now than I have in a long time."

"Good. In that case," she took a deep breath, "I was wondering when you're going to visit Ron again?"

Severus stood with his back to Minerva, looking out at the water. He felt angry and violated, and he was not yet able to trust himself to speak.

"Severus, you must understand that Albus did what he thought was right. And I think that he was right, also. He did not want you to be alone after he was gone."

"I told him of things that I have told no one else," he snarled. "I trusted him."

"And you do not trust me?"

"It is not the same, Minerva. Had I told you my secrets, that would have been by my choice. But I chose to tell Albus, not you."

"Yes, but Albus is not here now, Severus." She ignored the glare he sent her way. "He wanted there to be someone that you could talk to, if you so needed. He wanted to know that you were taken care of."

"I am a grown man. I do not need anyone to take care of me!"

Sighing, the Headmistress began to pace the ground. "That response is exactly what I'm talking about, Severus!"

"Don't speak in riddles, Minerva. I don't have patience for such games."

"Severus, sit back down here with me." She waited until he was seated uncomfortably next to her, then continued. "Have you really thought about what is going to happen to you next, son?"

"I don't understand," he said. "I will continue living here. I will continue teaching at Hogwarts." With a smirk, he added, "I will continue, undoubtedly, to be turned down for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

With a deep expression of fondness in her eyes, McGonagall took his hand. "And have you considered, for just a moment, what you will NOT continue doing?"

When he cocked an eyebrow at her, she smiled. "My boy, you no longer have to hide. You no longer have to spy. Your days of living in fear and seclusion are done. Severus…you are free!"

As she watched the truth of what she had said settle on his face, she was struck once again by how young he really was. She thought - not for the first time - how unjust it was that he had been dealt such a hand. A brilliant, sensitive man…and he had given up most of his life to both the Dark and the Light.

How long has it been since he has done something just for himself?

Her words echoed over and over again in his head. Severus…you are free! He knew it was true. Voldemort was gone. The war was over. He was cleared of Dumbledore's death. Everything that had ruled his life for almost as long as he could remember was done. He didn't have to live in shadows ever again.

"I'm free," he repeated slowly. The words felt delicious on his tongue. He thought that he had never heard anything so beautiful in all his life.

"Yes, dear. You are free. Now you can go ahead and live whatever life it is you've always wished for." Almost before the words had left her lips, Minerva wished that she could take them back. The dark look that fell over Severus' face confirmed that she had said something wrong. Quickly, she turned him to face her.

"Severus, I know about Lily. I know…what happened." She gripped his shoulders firmly as he tried to turn from her. "It was horrible, Severus, I know. And I'm so sorry - so truly, deeply sorry - that you were not able to live a long, happy life with her. But now you have the chance to go and try to find that life with someone else. Someone who will adore you and take care of you the way that you deserve."

"No!" he spat. "I can not - I WILL not - put someone else through what she went through. Do not ask that of me, Minerva!"

"Severus, let go of the past! What happened with Lily was a terrible, tragic accident, nothing more! You cannot give up your whole life to something that happened all those years ago! I knew Lily, and I know she never would have wanted that for you!"

As she watched him shake his head mutely, her heart swelled. Knowing that she was most likely the only person who would be allowed to do such a thing, she put her arms around him and pulled him to her in a stiff hug.

"Albus died because he believed so much in what was right, and because he cared so much for all of us. Don't let his death be an empty gesture, Severus. Don't dishonor him by dying, too."

Hermione woke early the next morning to the faint sound of tapping. Pushing her hair out of her eyes groggily, she went to her window and took the piece of parchment from the midnight-black owl that waited for her. Handing him a few pieces of biscuit, she unrolled the note.

Hermione,

I am planning a trip to London this evening to look for some books for my personal library. I would be pleased if you would agree to accompany me.

In lieu of my actions of last evening, I would understand if you would rather not. However, I hope that you will reconsider.

My owl will await your reply.

Sincerely,
Severus

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns it all.

Author's Notes: I apologize for the delay in this update. My hubby, son and I have been passing a nasty cold back and forth between us for the past few weeks, so when I haven't been the patient, I've been the nurse!

I truly, truly appreciate all the reviews I've gotten. Please, keep them coming!

I stole a couple of things in this chapter, including:

Hermione's recurring use of the phrase "little prick" is lifted directly from the wonderful and hysterical movie "Fast Times at Ridgemont High". Check it out if you haven't seen it. Classic!

Headmistress McGonagall's quote, "…but, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles!" is taken verbatim from the amazing song "Breathe" by Anna Nalick. If you have not heard this song, I suggest you hunt it down. The lyrics are absolutely phenomenal.

A quick explanation on the whole 'trembling monkeys' fiasco…it was a bit of a personal challenge put out to me by my husband. The line, "Trembling monkeys make me laugh," came up in a conversation one day (don't ask) and he said, "See if you can work THAT into your next chapter!" I hope it worked all right with the story!

As always, this story is dedicated to him!