Do I have to write the same boring disclaimer for every chapter? No! Look at chapter two.

A great thank you to Samantha Kathy for the beta reading.

Chapter 3

Severus Snape had told Hermione to meet him at the lake at 8 o'clock sharp and to make sure that she was not followed. She arrived on time knowing how Snape hated tardiness. When after twenty minutes Snape had not yet appeared, Hermione became nervous. What if he had been discovered, and arrested, or killed? Suddenly she heard the sound of a little twig breaking and jerked around, but it was not her former teacher, only a black cat, a really beautiful, elegant animal. Hermione bent down to stroke its head and was very surprised when the cat arched its back and hissed. When the shape of the cat shifted suddenly and the thin figure of her former Potions master appeared, she understood. He was not a person who would like to be touched.

"Good evening, Miss Granger." Snape inclined his head. "By now you know that I am an unregistered animagus. You will take me with you as your new...uhm...pet, so I will be able to enter Hogwarts. We will have to brew several potions in my lab; you may assist me, but they are highly dangerous and you will not be able to brew alone."

Hermione cleared her throat, paused, and then blurted, "Professor Snape, I will do as you say, but you acting like my cat must be believable. Cats usually like me, and it does not help if you hiss at me, if I touch you. The other pets I had used to lie at my feet, or in my lap. Professor, don't look at me as if you would like to kill me. I do not suggest that you sleep in my lap. It would do if you let yourself be petted, and if I do that, look pleased."

Snape had obviously not thought about this difficulty, but nodded faintly, though he tensed, and colour crept in his cheeks.

Hermione had indeed no difficulty to bring her new cat to Hogwarts. At the gates she met Lavender Brown. "Oh, Hermione, is this a new pet of yours? This is soooo cute! Such a beautiful cat! Where did you get it? I'd rather have a cat than my boring owl. Ooooh, you sweet pussycat! " Lavender put her fingers under the cat's chin, but almost instantly pulled her hand back with a cry of pain. Her hand showed four bloody scratches.

"Oh, Lavender, I am so sorry, I should have warned you. The cat was kind of...uhm...maltreated as a kitten, and I am the only one who can touch it." Hermione blushed and hurried away with the cat in her arms.

Her composure left her when she had closed the door of the office behind her; she roared with laughter. "Oh, Professor Snape, that was more than I could bear. If Lavender had had any idea what she did! She has always been so afraid of you and now she got she proof she was right. You scratched her..." She stopped when she saw the scowling of Severus Snape, who obviously did not find the situation very amusing. Hermione sighed and looked into Snape's face with a sudden earnest. "Professor, my laughter has nothing to do with childish behaviour or with laughing at you. I am only very glad that I got something to laugh. Some days ago I thought that it would be a long time until I would laugh again."

The next few hours were spent with chopping and brewing. Hermione watched Severus Snape covertly. She had never really worked together with him. Class did not qualify, nor did detentions. Here, in his lab, he prepared potions only a handful of wizards in the world were able to brew. Hermione watched his movements and his concentration; his eyes seemed to have a different colour when be worked on potions. Snape did not explain anything about the purpose of the potions, and Hermione did not ask. Some potions could be brewed only by wizards with certain powers. Though Hermione was an outstanding witch, Remus Lupin had always referred to her as to the brightest witch of her age, she had never heard the incantations Snape intoned after adding the final ingredient.

Severus was pleasantly surprised by Hermione Granger. She had worked with him without idle chatter. Her former remark about the laughter had touched him. He had never been able to laugh, irony, yes, sarcasm, yes, but it had been years since his early childhood that he had genuinely laughed. Albus was right. She was an adult and the preceding weeks had matured her even more.

What he had not expected was her friendly behaviour towards him now that she knew he had been the one who had told Voldemort about the prophecy. There was no sign of loathing or reproach. The young woman did not seem to be uncomfortable, though Snape did not understand how she could stand his presence. She had never shown fear, like some of her former class-mates; she had always been polite, but never a bootlicker. Her intelligence was extraordinary; she was a gifted witch with a promising career. Would one of the boys she was hanging around with appreciate her intelligence? He had seen the Weasley boy groping her. What did she see in him? Then again this was none of his business. If she liked to be surrounded by such an idiot, she would have to live with the results; marrying into this family always resulted in at least seven brats. Severus Snape snorted at that thought, and Hermione looked rather puzzled at the sound.

When they finally left the lab after midnight and entered the living-room, both of them were exhausted and tired. While the house-elves delivered some sandwiches and wine, Snape took the shape of the cat. During the meal, she continued watching him. Like she had noticed the day before, he looked rather ill. "Miss Granger, is there something you want to ask me? You have been watching me rather noticeable, and I prefer you asking before you burst."

Hermione blinked. That was as close to a joke as she could imagine. "Professor Snape, I have been thinking...You cannot get outside now. The gates are closed and you cannot Disapparate. You have to stay in my chambers overnight."

Snape looked evenly at her. "That was to be expected. Spending the night with a student in my quarters is not what I would consider as appropriate, but this is no normal situation, and we are both adults enough to deal with this."

Severus Snape referring to her as an adult? Hermione was surprised. But when she thought about it, he had not once said silly girl today.

"You will use the bedroom and I will sleep on the sofa in the living-room."

"Professor Snape, these are your quarters, and I am the intruder; so it is only fair that I use the sofa. I don't feel comfortable sharing rooms with a man, and I agree that this situation is inappropriate, and I find it very awkward, but I trust you. And, not that it matters, but I am not your student any more."

She does not feel comfortable sharing her rooms with a man, but she trusts me? Me of all people! How can she trust me? Even now that she understands that I did not kill Dumbledore, she knows that I was the one who told the Dark Lord about the prophecy. She is anything but imbecile, but nevertheless she trusts me. Foolish woman

He was a little surprised that her feeling of awkwardness had nothing to do with him being her former teacher, but only with him being a man. He noticed her flushed cheeks. Despite his former remarks, he did not feel that comfortable either. He was not used to sharing his quarters with another person. The fact that she was his former student was bad enough, but he chastised himself for seeing her as a woman now. The way she had dealt with this whole situation had proven that she was an adult. That should have made this situation easier, but it did not. His students had always been children for him; his thoughts had never crossed this line even with really beautiful students in the seventh year. Not that any of these witches would have seen a man in him. He knew he was ugly; he had been told that since he had been a little child; school mates had called him creepy Snivellus. He knew the students called him the greasy git and the bat of the dungeons. His only love in his youth had married Potter, and for his sexual needs Severus Snape had to visit the whores in Knockturn Alley at times.

And now, he had noticed for the first time that Hermione Granger was a woman. She was no stunning beauty, but had a pleasant face and warm brown eyes. The bushy hair was gone, and she had soft brown curls instead. Her figure was nicely shaped. Severus, you are a disgusting old letch, stop these thoughts. She would never think of you as a man!…But she has, hasn't she?...That was only figuratively; she did not refer to you. You are pathetic! And how can you think of a woman when the fate of the Wizarding world is at stake? It is better not to feel anything inside, safer for our case and safer for you.

Hermione was aware of Severus Snape's gaze; it was neither patronising nor smirking. His eyes were different, she could not put her finger on it, but she had never seen him like that. But when she searched his face and opened her mouth to speak, his eyes went cold as usual, his jaw and his back going rigid. "Miss Granger, it is late, and we will both need our concentration and strength tomorrow. I would suggest that you use the bathroom at first and go to sleep. We will need our sleep. Tomorrow, work will have to begin early; I told the Dark Lord that I had to collect some rare herbs for my potions, but I will only have some weeks, and we have to take this time by the forelock."

Hermione lay awake for hours. Too much had happened. The assumed traitor had turned out to be the bravest man she had ever known, an unknown hero, nobody paid tribute to. But i she /i would. Eventually, sleep overtook her.

The next morning, Hermione left for breakfast to the Great Hall. Casually, she told her colleagues that she had to prepare certain things for her lessons and would take some extra time in the lab and in her quarters. Back in her rooms, she ordered some sandwiches. Professor Snape had to eat, too, and it would have raised suspicion, if she had taken food with her. So she told the house-elves that she was very hungry because of the extra work she had to do.

The next hours were spent in the same manner as the day before. They worked together quietly, and this time Professor Snape explained that they were working on mind altering potions he would use for one of the Death Eaters. She felt his respect and was glad for it. It felt good to work with him.

Hermione realised how the energy had drained from her after hours of potion-making. She was glad when they finally took a break in the afternoon. While sitting together and eating at the small table in his quarters, Hermione was astonished to notice that she felt rather comfortable in Snape's presence.

She asked him why they had set up this stage. To her, it seemed rather hazardous. The mayhem that had been caused by Professor Dumbledore's death had been immense. Snape had explained patiently; before she would have sworn he did not even know how to spell that word. Dumbledore had been weakened by the poison he had drunk in the cave. The scheme was a possibility to prevent Draco Malfoy from becoming a murderer and on the other hand to protect Dumbledore from really being killed. Furthermore, Voldemort had become suspicious about Snape's loyalty. Too often, Snape had reported failures. Voldemort knew exactly how to deal with cruel persons or people greedy for power, but Snape was enigmatic for him and thus suspicious. Snape had to endure the Cruciatus and other curses too often. Dumbledore saw Snape's exhaustion and feared that, though Snape was a brilliant Occlumens, some day, his shields might yield. Realising this, Dumbledore had looked for a means to restore Voldemort's trust. He also knew that the Death Eaters would become incautious if they believed that Dumbledore was dead.

Hermione was deeply impressed, though Snape did left no doubt that he had not wanted to set that stage. It had remained very risky.

Hermione still felt a little exhausted, and Severus Snape had dark circles under his eyes, but finally they had to go back to work. Eventually, late in the evening, they had finished their last task and cleaned the lab. Hermione watched Severus, who, as she had seen before, definitely looked ill. Obviously, he was under severe pressure, and she wondered how long he could endure that. She walked up to him, and cleared her throat. "I want to thank you for everything you do, sir. I realise that your life is probably more endangered than before, as you have to be careful with Voldemort, and you are hunted as a murderer by the rest of the Wizarding world." She stretched out her small hand. "I would like to…well…I know it is unusual, but I would be glad if I could be your friend."

She wanted to be his friend? Why in all the world… "Miss Granger, I admit that we have been working together for our purpose far better than I had imagined, but let us face the facts, there is no need to be my friend . I don't have friends, and I don't need friends, I don't believe in friendship . Everyone has to carry his own burden. What people call friendship, is the desire to share certain pleasures and the wish for companionship. If you really need someone, he will always abandon you in the end. Maybe you are too young, or too naïve to realise that. And I also assure you, I am the last person in the world you would want as a friend. Some of the things you know about me should have told you that, but there is tenfold more." Snape replied.

"Sir, I am young, but I am not naïve. I know that you are not the person you were in your youth. I care about what becomes of you, and I care about you being well or not. For now, I can tell that you need to rest; you definitely look ill. I don't want to be obtrusive, but I..."

Snape was too exhausted for his usual sarcastic remark, so he only raised an eyebrow and interrupted, "Well, Miss Granger, time will tell." He was tired, more than he had foreseen; everything else could be discussed tomorrow.

Hermione awoke in the middle of the night. There, a sound coming from Snape's bedroom, something like a moan. She left her bed and reached for her wand. She opened the door in increments. There was no sign of an intruder, but Snape seemed to be in pain. She flicked her wand. "Lumos!" In the dim light she could see drops of sweat on his skin; he moaned and sobbed, his head jerking from one side to the other. His bed-sheets had dropped to the floor. Hermione approached the bed and bent over Snape. He did not even wake up when she touched his damp forehead. He was hot, boiling hot. He had a severe fever and probably a nightmare, too. Hermione knew that there was no potion against fever in Snape's closet, and she realised that she could not go to Madam Pomfrey in the middle of the night without being asked questions. Brewing a potion would need time; and she did not have time.What should she do?