It took Hermione five days in the hospital wing to get up the courage to see Harry and Ron. She didn't know why she was so nervous, but she had made any excuses she could whenever Poppy (as Madame Pomfrey said she could call her) came to tell her that Harry and Ron were waiting to come in and see her.

Instead she kept her mind busy trying not to think about the fire, which took up a lot of her time. The times she wasn't doing that, she was thinking about Severus and the fact that she'd lost him his job. No one had told her that he had been replaced, but then again, no one had to. She'd seen the Headmaster leading Severus out, that stern look on his face.

In the few minutes she'd had free from thinking about the fire or Severus, she'd been thinking about her period. It was about a week late. But you could never tell with her periods – they were never very punctual; a fact that annoyed the hell out of her, being that the rest of her life was so organized. Well, it had been until that fateful night that Severus Snape had crashed into her bedroom.

Actually, this was all his fault, she reasoned. Sod blaming Draco – I'm going to find Severus Snape and subject him to a hundred Galleons worth of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, one after the other. Not including the Miracle Grow Condom, of course.

She felt so alone, sitting in this hospital ward. The only person she allowed in to see her was Ginny, but she only saw her for a few minutes each day. Hermione had thought about talking to Ginny about her late period and about Draco Malfoy, but she hadn't dared. She knew she could trust Ginny, but she didn't know how she'd react. There was a chance she'd tell her mum too.

She briefly thought about talking to Harry, but decided that he wouldn't be much better than talking to Ron, who would immediately wage war on her behalf over Draco, and faint over her period. She groaned.

And now she had Severus to worry about too. There was no doubt that once Voldemort found out he no longer worked at Hogwarts, he would have no use for him. He might have been a 'loyal' Death Eater to him for a lot of years, but she knew Voldemort had a tendency to take out his anger and disappointment on people.

She was hit with an almost desperate urge to get up and find him, and it was the first time since she'd arrived in the hospital wing that she'd actually had the urge to get up at all.

She wanted to find him to make him promise not to return to Voldemort. He could hide. She could hide with him. Fine, he wasn't in love with her, but surely he could find her tolerable enough to hide away with for a few years? And yes, she'd feel guilty not being part of the final battle, but she had to protect Severus.

Her eyes widened as she realized that somehow, she had started to care more about Severus than she did about her friends. She shook her head in disbelief.

No, she told herself. It was more that her friends had each other, and now Severus was alone. He needed her.

She pulled her face at her own unconvincing thoughts and groaned again. Really, like Severus would ever let himself need anybody.

"Everything alright?" Poppy inquired from the other side of the room. She'd only kept her in under the Headmasters orders, but she had been glad she had. There was definitely something wrong with the girl. Depression most likely – Hermione had barely moved since she'd arrived. Her lovely mass of curls now resembled the mess Hermione had borne when she'd first arrived at Hogwarts. It made Poppy's fingers itch to go and get a hairbrush. She wasn't eating and she didn't want to see anybody.

She was distracted from thoughts of hairbrushes by a now familiar knock on the door to the ward.

"They're here again, Hermione," she said. "Would you like me to send them away? I told them to leave it a few days, but you know what Harry's like…"

Harry had spent a lot of time in the care of Poppy Pomfrey over the last few years, thanks to various confrontations with Voldemort and they'd developed a sort of rapport. Poppy had even started to mother him in her own pushy, Mother Hen sort of a way.

Poppy was just about to go back and tell the boys to leave, when Hermione spoke, her voice uneasy, but determined.

"No, it's alright," she said, sounding resigned. "Tell them to come in."

She'd have to get this over with at some point, she supposed. Unless she did actually leave and could convince Dobby to go up to Gryffindor Tower and pack for her. Hmm… tempting.

Poppy raised her eyebrows but did as Hermione asked, ushering Harry and Ron into the ward with warnings to keep quiet. There was no one else in the ward at that time; Hermione was sure she just enjoyed playing 'librarian.'

"Hey there," Harry said, leaning over to kiss her gently on the cheek. He briefly looked like he was about to hug her, but was too nervous of her reaction. She quietly berated herself for being so distant with them for the last few weeks; she'd managed to be so unpredictable they were nervous around her now.

"Hello Mione," Ron said, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it gently, before leaning over to kiss her on the lips.

"Ron, not now," she hissed. "Madam Pomfrey is right there."

Ron scowled, but sat down before commenting, "You're looking better."

"Thanks. Did you bring me homework?"

"Most people want flowers and chocolates," Ron muttered almost to himself. "She wants homework!"

They all chatted for a while, quickly falling into their old easy conversations, teasing each other and laughing. Ron was the only one who had treated her like nothing serious had happened and she appreciated that. Even Harry seemed to be treating her differently, as if she was suddenly breakable. She might not fancy Ron anymore (if she ever did), but she did love being his friend.

Now, if she could just find a potion to make her smell really, really bad, but only to Ron… Then he might stop trying to kiss her. Or she could try to gather some of that Gryffindor courage she seemed to be so lacking in recently and actually break up with him.

"There's a rumour going around…" Harry said, carefully, finally getting up the nerve to broach the subject.

"Yes?" prompted Hermione, knowing what the rumour was and still not knowing what she should tell Harry.

Albus had been to see her once and only once, for a very brief visit as soon as he had presumably finished with Severus. He had told her that she could still leave, that now her 'parents' were dead, there would be no suspicions and no repercussions for Severus if she did– people would expect her to leave.

He had suggested letting everyone, even her friends, think that her parents were dead. It would be difficult coping with their sympathies, he'd said, and difficult lying to them, but it would be for the best in the end.

Hermione still wasn't sure. She had never lied to her friends about anything before, except daft things, like when she insisted she had a really terrible headache to get out of watching yet another bloody Quidditch match.

She had begged Albus to let her stay in the hospital wing for a week or so, because she wanted time to think and make her decisions. She had no one to protect now Severus had gone into hiding, which is what she was sure he would do. And Draco deserved whatever he got. She no longer cared that his evilness was influenced by his family – he was completely undeserving of any sympathy.

"People are saying that Death Eaters killed your mum and dad, Hermione," Ron said, finishing for Harry, his eyes so full of concern she wanted to cry.

At Hermione's hesitation in answering, Harry asked, "Is that why you're in here? You're too upset to see people?"

Hermione shrugged, finally making a decision.

"Someone put a curse on me," Hermione said, quietly. "I had to watch my parents as they burned to death. I was… there, but in my head."

Well, that was almost the truth, even if it wasn't really the reason she had been in the hospital wing for so long, not seeing anyone. The reason for that was depression and misery, pure and simple, Hermione admitted to herself. She didn't want to go to lessons, and that fact in itself scared the hell out of her. Luckily Albus had understood without needing to be told and had given her that week in the hospital wing for her to sort herself out properly.

Harry went pale and reached for Hermione's hand to hold it tightly. Ron went completely the opposite colour, even his freckles getting darker as his face reddened with fury.

"Do they know who did it?" Ron asked between clenched teeth.

Hermione nodded. "But I can't tell you who, Ron. I won't have you getting yourself killed for me."

"Hermione!" Ron almost shouted in frustration. "For fuck sake, tell me!"

"Mr Weasley, if you can't keep your voice down, then I will have to ask you to leave," Poppy's voice bellowed down the ward, making Ron jump.

Ron went pink and glowered. "Fine, but did you at least tell Dumbledore?"

"Professor Dumbledore is well aware of what is going on, Ron," Hermione said. "Everyone is doing the best they can right now. You can have your revenge when it's all over, but I am definitely first in the queue for that."

Hermione's mind returned again to satisfying images of transfiguring Draco's genitalia into various different kinds of fruits or vegetables. Maybe she could transfigure it into a banana, then turn Goyle into a large, starving monkey…

"When are you coming back to classes?" Harry asked. "Advanced Potions is hell without you."

"What's the new professor like?" Hermione asked avoiding answering when she was coming back. Her heart sank just thinking about the fact that Professor Snape had gone and would be replaced by someone not nearly as skilled; and it was all her fault.

"New Professor?" Harry looked confused.

"You know, the one that replaced Professor Snape? Or has the headmaster not found a replacement yet?"

"Mione, as much as I'd love Professor Snape to be replaced by someone; anyone, except for maybe Umbridge," Harry said, puzzled, "it's still the same old Greasy Git teaching Potions."

"He wasn't… What do you mean?"

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Yeah, do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?" Ron added, leaning forward and touching the back of his hand to her head, as if he could detect insanity that way.

Hermione hit his hand away, frustrated.

"Harry, are you saying that Professor Snape is still here?"

"Yes…" Harry said, slowly emphasizing the word. "Unfortunately for all present and future Hogwarts students everywhere."

Hermione's forehead wrinkled as she tried to work out how on earth Severus could still be here. Was he just teaching until Albus found someone to take over? Or had Albus somehow not seen the rather obvious display of student/teacher much-more-than-platonic affection?

"Mind you, I didn't see him at tea last night, or breakfast or lunch today," Harry commented, thoughtfully. "But it's the weekend and he's not always around for those."

"You're watching him bloody closely," Ron said, his eyebrow raised. "Got a little crush on the greasy black bat?"

Harry pulled a disgusted face and Ron laughed. Hermione laughed along too, but her heart wasn't in it. Why would he have missed the last three meals? Whatever Harry said, he didn't usually do that. Breakfast sometimes, yes, but never three meals in a row.

For the first time in days, she suddenly wanted to get out of bed and get dressed. Well, she'd have to wouldn't she, if she wanted to find out what was going on? Unless of course she could levitate her bed into the potions classroom, her sat astride it in her very fetching hospital gown. But she somehow didn't think Severus would find that very amusing.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized. "I'm just not really feeling myself."

Had he left? Had Albus given him a few days to get things together before leaving? Or had Voldemort got to him?

Harry raised his eyebrow at Hermione's pale face and Ron patted her on the hand.

"If I could be in a world where Snape had retired or something, I'd gladly stay insane," Ron said.

"Not that you're insane," he quickly added, patting even harder in what he must have thought was a reassuring way.

"God, if he'd just retire…" Harry said, in a dreamy voice.

"Retire! He's not that old, you know!" Hermione pointed out, hotly. She suddenly felt very young and silly for obsessing over someone who Harry thought was old enough to retire. Why would someone his age want someone like her? He was experienced and intelligent and…

"He's probably about twenty years older than us, Hermione!" Ron pointed out.

And there was that too. Thanks Ron.

"Age isn't that important in the Wizarding world Ron, you should know that!" Hermione said, wondering if her argument even fitted in with the conversation, or if she was just trying to convince herself it was fine to have fallen for the bad-tempered Professor.

"You know," he added thoughtfully, ignoring the fact that Hermione had spoken, "I bet that if we got together enough of Snape's ex students who hate him and asked them to give us a Knut each, we'd have enough money to pay Snape to retire."

"He'd be far better off and future generations would be incredibly grateful," Harry agreed, nodding. "I think it's a plan."

Hermione glowered from where she lay, propped against the pillows.

"Do neither of you appreciate his skill, even if you don't like his teaching methods?" she asked, sighing. "Potion-making is an art. Have you never watched him? He's passionate and precise all at the same time. It's amazing. And he loves it – you can see how absorbed he gets by it. He just doesn't understand people who aren't as good as he is, or as passionate about it as he is."

"Plus the fact that he's just a grumpy sod," Ron added in a quiet voice to Harry.

Hermione had to give Ron that.

"We are all aware that you think that all Professors deserve respect," Ron

said, his brow wrinkling in disgust at the idea of Snape deserving respect. "But really Hermione, you always stick up for him and he's never been nice to you. Ever."

"Can we talk about something else, please?" Hermione asked, giving up. She'd spent years trying to get them to lay off Severus, even when she hadn't liked him herself. She knew that they'd never stop to think about the sacrifices he had to make to keep them safe, or why he might really be how he was to them.

Although she was pretty sure he was like that to Harry and Ron purely because he thought they were complete idiots. And at that moment, she agreed.

"Harry turned Ginny down again," Ron said, cheerfully changing the subject, ignoring Harry's glare.

"Not again. Oh Harry! She's lovely, you know. And she even likes Quidditch, which has to be a bonus."

"Don't you go changing his mind," Ron said firmly. "I'm quite happy he doesn't want to get my baby sister naked. I'd like it to stay that way."

"Baby sister! She's nearly seventeen, Ron!" Harry said, flushing.

"Oh my God, you do fancy her!" Ron said, his eyes widening in shock. "Nooo!"

"I do not!" Harry said, his flush deepening. "I've only just finished with Cho."

"You do!" Ron insisted. "Oh my God, you weren't cheating on Cho with… No. You wouldn't!"

"Look Ron, concentrate on your own failing love life, and leave mine alone!" Harry snapped as he pushed his chair back. Then he winced. "Sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to get at you too."

Hermione flushed and tried not to look at Ron, who had got to his feet too.

"Maybe it's Hermione you fancy," Ron accused, out of the blue. "You're always so touchy feely. Are you two secretly doing it?"

"Don't be so bloody stupid, Ron," Hermione said. "Harry and I are friends."

"I think you owe Hermione an apology," Harry said, to Ron, who was still red faced, glowering at them both.

"I just… don't understand," Ron said, miserably, suddenly sounding defeated. "I know you've got a reason now, what with your mum and dad and everything. But before that you barely looked at me."

"I'll leave you two alone," Harry said, turning to leave and give them some privacy.

"No, don't go." Hermione wasn't scared of being alone with Ron, she just didn't want to have to sit alone after he stormed out, which she knew he would at any moment.

"I'll be right outside," Harry assured her, before practically running out of the room.

"It's not been working out, Ron," Hermione said quietly, trying to get him to meet her eyes. "I just think we're meant to be friends. Best friends. I love you, I really do. But don't you think we were better before?"

"Is there someone else?" he asked her through gritted teeth.

"I'm not leaving you to be with anyone else," Hermione said, choosing her words carefully. Well, she wasn't. Severus didn't actually want to be with her.

Unfortunately Ron was being unusually perceptive that day.

"But do you fancy someone else?" he persisted, cringing because he wasn't sure he even wanted the answer.

"Ron, I'm sorry for avoiding you and for not being more honest with you. I should have spoken to you as soon as I realized we weren't meant to be. I didn't want to hurt you, so I put it off. I was so absorbed in myself. I'm so, so sorry."

"Hermione! Do. You. Fancy. Someone. Else?" His teeth were gritted so hard that Hermione worried they'd shatter.

"Yes," she said quietly, giving in. "But it's not how you think Ron – I'm not going to be with him. It's not like that."

Ron looked at her, the hurt evident in his eyes. Then he turned and walked out, leaving Hermione staring at the empty doorway.

"Well," said Harry, wincing as he walked back into the room, "this was fun – must do it again some time. Aren't you glad you decided to see us after all?"

He gave Hermione and wry grin and then went over to the bed and took her hand.

"Do you want to talk now?" he asked gently. "Before I go and stop Ron punching random inanimate objects, that is."

Hermione shook her head. "Not about what happened with my parents, no."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"You and Ginny?" she suggested, with a wicked grin. "You know you're crazy about her, Harry. And she's got the patience of a saint, so she's never going to give up."

"It comes from growing up with all the Weasley brothers around her," Harry pointed out, with a grin. "You either turn to mass murder, or develop the patience of a saint."

Hermione laughed, then her face sobered and she looked at Harry.

"I need to ask you to do something for me, and you've got to promise not to tell anyone, even Ron." Hermione's voice was serious and Harry noticed for the first time just how thin and pale she'd become lately.

"Anything," he said, wishing she'd just talk to him.

"I need you to acquire some ingredients for me."

"Acquire?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Alright, steal," Hermione amended, with a guilty grin.

"Can I ask what they're for?" he asked, gently.

"I can't stop you finding out," Hermione said, quietly. "All you'd have to do was look up the ingredients to find what potion I want to make."

"I won't do that, Hermione." Harry sighed. She'd always trusted him before, why couldn't she now? "If you ever need to talk though, I'll always be here to listen."

Hermione bit her lip, determined not to cry. She nodded and pulled him down for a hug.

"I'll have them for you tomorrow," Harry said, pulling back from the hug and handing her some parchment from the bedside table. "Just write me the list."