Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc., nor do I own Burger King . . . or the ingeniousness of Spam while I'm at it.

A/N: If it seems a bit strange, it's because I wrote it while watching Gray's Anatomy, Olympic Ice Dancing, and the NBA All-Star game . . . an interesting mix to have in the background while writing.

"Granger, why in the name of Merlin's beard are we going to such a disreputable establishment for mad cow meat that is bound to clog my arteries and worse, as well as cause a heart attack while I'm in the prime of my life?"

"Because, Snape, I desire red meat, and Burger King isn't the King because he serves bad burgers. And the thought of you in your prime is mildly unsettling."

Snape could not prevent the oh-so-obvious eye roll and shake of his head. He would go with her for no reason other than to be near her for another half hour, but the sensible part of his brain still protested. It was madness, but there was little he could do to stop himself. Perhaps there was more to having a glimpse into the future than he wanted to admit, and that was how he found himself in his current predicament. He had wisely donned his muggle clothes before leaving Hogwarts. It was a good thing because he was now parked at a corner table of a very full BK waiting for Hermione to return with their order. She was going to surprise him.

Hermione, meanwhile, was making a tough decision: what exactly she wanted on her burger. "Extra mayonnaise, burger sauce, mustard . . . ooh! And a pickled gherkin please! That sounds good too," she told the pimpled teenager who took the order.

"We don't have pickled gherkin, Ma'am," the boy responded in a flat tone.

Hermione frowned.

"You could have extra pickles on your burger though," was the suggestion.

Hermione considered it for a moment. She nodded and the boy punched in the order.

"£30.16 please."

Hermione handed over the cash she conveniently had gotten from an ATM o the way. Several moments later she was weaving around tables and people to the corner where she left Snape.

"I come bearing fat-filled goodies. Dig in!"

He tried to frown, but the smile she gave him was so genuine that he could not quite manage it. Snape unwrapped the burger slowly and watched Hermione wolf down her share of the grease. Two burgers, one medium order of fries, and six chicken nuggets later, she washed the whole thing down with a large Coke. Snape barely managed to eat his one burger and small order of fries. He could not recall the last time he had ingested such a large amount of calories in one sitting. He did know he had no desire to do it again anything soon though.

"So, what'd you think?"

"I think you're crazy, Granger," and, under his breath, "among other things."

Hermione took it as a compliment. "Thanks, Snape. You gotta admit that was tasty though." She gave him a world-class smile.

"I don't have to admit anything to you." He was gathering the garbage to deposit in the bin and leave the grease haven before he felt sick. Nothing sounded better than fresh air and/or alcohol at that moment.

Hermione had a hard time keeping up with the pace Snape took leading them back toward her apartment. However, halfway there, she grabbed his hand and dragged him down a side street and into the first bar she found. Unlike the previous meeting spot, this bar was packed with patrons. Hermione had to shove her way through he crowd to get to the bar.

"Vodka!" she demanded. "Lots of Vodka!"

The bartender laid out four shot glasses and filled them. Hermione paid as Snape finally caught up to her. Hermione handed him one. "To us!" He did not reply opting to down the drink and the second immediately after. Hermione followed suit. She was about to order more shots when Snape pulled her away from the bar and back through the crowd. On the street he dragged her to an alley where he apparated them to their usual haunt.

"Severus, what?"

"Call me a creature of habit if you must, Granger." He left her standing at the entrance as he went to order their drinks: more vodka. He planned on getting them both very drunk that evening. If nothing else, it would lessen the pain, however temporary, of saying goodbye to her.

By the time Hermione wandered in, Snape had made himself at home. Several empty shot glasses lay upside-down in front of him. Hermione presumed that he as waiting for her as he nursed a scotch. She sat without a word. The evening was turning out intriguingly strange and it was not because they were acting normally. On the contrary, they were acting as if they were stalling form some reason. When it doubt, they resorted to what got them together in the first place: alcohol.

Hermione easily caught up with him and then ordered the next round. Neither had spoken a word to the other. Besides ordering drinks, the only indication they were aware of each other was the sidelong glances, always when the other was not looking.

Hermione, tiring of the charade, and quite drunk to boot, in highly dramatic fashion removed herself from the bar and appeared to be heading for the door. What she had not planned on were her legs giving out on her after several steps. Snape, for his part, was not quite so inebriated (which was often the case) and had begun to follow her closely enough that he caught her before she hit the ground. This was the second time he found her in his arms, but the fact she was conscious and both of them were drunk changed things slightly. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. By the time he remembered, she had noticed and was staring at him with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and desire.

Snape was alert enough to carry them out of the bar and apparate them to her apartment. He set her down on the doorstep where she sat and dug out her keys. Hermione handed them to Snape and he unlocked the door. Hermione slowly rose to her feet, attempted to balance and almost stumbled. Snape caught her in time again and carried her in.

The close proximity was doing neither or them much good. Snape was sure she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. It was a new thing to him yet. Having someone that was not the enemy so close was unfamiliar territory. He knew what he wanted, but it was not his move to make. That much was always clear. He could only do so much because, ultimately, the decision had to be hers. He was almost powerless until that happened.

Severus Snape knew love, and how to love, something few people credited him with. His job had always meant he had to compartmentalize. Now, though, with Hermione, he wanted nothing more than to tell her everything, to take her and make her his. If it were not for the prophecy . . . The bloody prophecy. It dictated that she make the move or everything would fall apart, the wizarding world and much more.

Hermione's mind was too sluggish to comprehend all of what she saw in Snape's eyes as he carried her to the bedroom. There was something in his look though that seemed sad, resigned. She did not like it. It was not the Severus Snape she was used to in these past weeks. It made her sad to think of him being sad.

Snape laid her on the bed and removed her shoes for her. He pulled out a hangover potion and put it on the nearby dresser so she could easily find it in the morning.

"Severus," Hermione said weakly, "thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied quietly. He knew he was showing his emotions, but he was too drunk to care. "Good night, Hermione." He was closing the door when she called out.

"Severus, will I see you tomorrow?"

He nodded from the doorway. "If that's what you want." He felt the tears pricking his eyes, wanting to be shed.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?" He swallowed hard, swallowing the emotions as best he could.

"Kiss me."

"Hermione, I . . ."

"Severus, please? If I never see you again, I want to know what it's like to kiss you."

It was a loaded statement for both of them. He heard the sharp intake of breath. She was gently crying. It froze him temporarily in the doorway.

"It that's what you want," he said, moving to sit next to her. The only light came from the hallway so they were both largely in the shadows. Snape leaned in slowly, one hand resting gently on Hermione's forehead, reminding him it was real. Their lips met in a gentle kiss at first. Snape desired to deepen it, but pulled back. Hermione pulled him back down for another kiss which she eventually cut off.

"Thank you, Severus."

End Chapter 9