Ok ok, so I've succumb to peer pressure. Sue me. Lots of reviewers have asked for me to continue the story (and I express my deep gratitude for those warm reviews), so, ladies and gents, here's another chapter.

Once again, I own none of this, sadly. That brilliant JKR keeps hogging it all.

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Chapter 2

A week had passed since Professor Snape kissed her that evening in his private study, but Hermoine Granger could still feel his lips upon her's. Every Potions class had turned into torture. Every meal had been unendurable. Her friends had begun to notice her odd behavior every time Snape was around, but did not mention it to her. She didn't even bother attempting to explain her behavior. Who would understand anyway? The majority of the student body thought Professor Snape an unyielding git who went out of his way to make everyone as uncomfortable as possible. Who knew his human side? Who had ever seen his intellectual passion and how attractive it made him? No one ever bothered discussing the topic of Potions with him, except perhaps Dumbledore. But the thought of confessing her feelings to the headmaster was laughable.

This wasn't some silly schoolgirl crush and she knew it. Hermoine had never been one to concern herself with capricious frivolities such as that. She had once felt something for one of her best friends, Ron Weasley, but that had passed quickly. She had always been much too serious about her studies to allow something like romance to meddle with her thinking.

But this wasn't simply a fleeting romance. This was, dare she think it, love. Passionate and unrestricted love. She needed him and she knew it. It was like a tumor gnawing away inside her. Every second she passed without him seemed to stretch an eternity.

During classes, Professor Snape seemed somehow gentler. He didn't reduce his first years to tears any more. He had managed to vaguely compliment a Gryffindor on his potion, and he even once looked at Neville Longbottom with something akin to kindness in his eyes. The students were flabbergasted at this remarkable change. Why, if he kept this up, his reputation of an over-sized bat would soon crumble. And still, his students felt no pity or sympathy towards him. They still remained as cold as ever, but Severus didn't notice. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was careful not to glance in her direction during mealtimes, lest he lost his self-control. He stared determinedly down at his own plate and escaped from the Great Hall as quickly as possible. Dumbledore had once leaned toward him with a knowing smile and politely asked if he had a slight cold, and he had seized gratefully upon the excuse and muttered a "Slightly, thank you Headmaster," and promptly excused himself before Dumbledore could inquire further into the status of his health.

Classes with his seventh years weren't so bad. She conspicuously avoided his eyes, not at all like the attentive student she was, and he decidedly avoided her's. Neither felt anything save the certainly of the other's presence in the room, but they felt that even without the physical vicinity. She went on dutifully brewing potions and he continued explaining lessons and grading papers.

A month had passed this way.

"Say, Hermoine, Snape doesn't seem to be acting strangely to you, does he?" asked Harry one day during lunch. "I mean, he's hardly docked any points from Gryffindor lately. You don't think Voldemort's done something to him?"

Hermoine snapped her head up and looked at him. "Erm, I dunno, I haven't really noticed much. Has he been acting strangely?"

Harry looked taken aback. "Well, yeah, haven't you noticed?" He looked at Ron inquiringly, who nodded fervently in agreement. "I mean, he's almost…nice. Wonder what's been going on…"

Hermoine quickly resumed swirling her spoon around her porridge. "I dunno, maybe he's having a bad hair, err, month."

The two boys laughed appreciatively and moved onto another subject.

Hermoine breathed an inward sigh of relief and felt sick with herself. Thankfully, none of her friends had asked her why she was behaving strangely as well. She thought to herself, I'll simply have to let this thing pass, I can't mope around like this all day, I've got N.E.W.T.S coming up this year, after all. She packed her bags and muttered something about the library to her two friends and departed quickly. As she passed the other house tables, her eyes involuntarily swept up to the head table, as though silently excusing herself. She froze. Professor Snape had taken that exact moment to glance up at the students and eyes met. He lowered the fork halfway to his mouth and her breath quickened. She couldn't look away as his eyes intently bored into her own.

She didn't know how long she stood like that but a sudden peal of laughter from the Ravenclaw table shook her out of her trance, and she hurried out of the hall. That was close, she thought to herself, I could've done something really stupid.

Snape suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore, though he had barely touched his food. He simply sat there, without knowing what to do, without knowing how to act. Dumbledore cast a sly glance toward him, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hermoine sat alone in the quiet sanctuary of the library, staring at her books without opening them. She chided herself silently for being so silly, while understanding at the same time that her's was a special case in the handbook of relationships. Sighing deeply, she dug up her notes on advance nonverbal spells and proceeded to attempt to get some work done. After all, she had Head Girl duties tonight and wouldn't get much time for studying.

That evening, while patrolling the corridors for midnight stragglers, she ran through the list of Christmas decorations needed this year, the order of mice needed for Professor McGonagal's classes, and the preparations for the next Hogsmeade weekend. Yes, everything was running smoothly; Hermoine was a very able Head Girl, taking charge of everything under her responsibility and executing all orders admirably. Her brief few months as Head Girl had seen wonderful efficiency. The House Elves loved her (she had finally given up all that business of setting them free, and they had taken to her fantastically), the staff was ecstatic at her appointment, her lessons were very interesting, and she had a bright future ahead of her.

Without knowing where her feet were taking her, she ambled around Hogwarts castle, nodding respectfully to Professor McGonagal, who passed her in the corridors, wearing her usual tartan robe. It was late in the evening, she thought to herself, probably thirty more minutes of patrolling and I'll turn in. She looked up to find some staircases that would lead her back to Gryffindor Tower and found herself instead facing a pair of black double doors.

The Potions master couldn't concentrate on anything, not surprising, for this was a constant condition this past month. He paced back and forth, picked up a book, flipped through its pages and found that he had already read it, and resumed his pacing. It was no use, he thought, he might as well go for a walk around the grounds. Anything was better than idling away the hours in his study. Annoyed with himself, he wrenched open the door of his study and found himself facing the very person he had hoped never to meet again.

"Ms. Granger? May I…help you with anything?"

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Muahah. I shall end it there. Not a very exciting chapter but mostly an interlude. Ok, back to that English paper I really need to write.