A/N: No messing around this time, I'm getting down to business promptly. Just a disclaimer then story-time!

DISCLAIMER: If I came up with Harry Potter and all related delicious-ness, don't you think I'd be rolling in the dough, as opposed to Miz Rowling? Yeah, thought so.

IX

She hurried to catch up to him as he strode away as though the hounds of hell were after him. He slowed again to accommodate her once he realized that she could not keep up with his longer gait, and they continued on in silence. Hermione had enough of silence however; all that she had known was the silence, and it was beginning to grate on her that there was someone with which she could converse and apparently knew about her life, but refused to speak. She did sense that disturbing him at this moment could mean that he might do something with that innocuous-looking stick which would be painful, embarrassing, or both. When the trees started to thin out and they reached a clearing with nothing in it. She looked at him and decided that she could break the silence.

"There's nothing here."

He scowled at her, looking like he was barely suppressing the urge to say something extremely cutting and sarcastic. "Not that we can see yet. Patience, I've got to do some foolish wand-waving."

She grinned, I know I've heard that phrase somewhere, but there's no time to ask now I suppose.

• • •

This trek through the forest was getting to Severus, there was no denying it. The odd silence of the girl was unnerving also. He found himself glancing at her periodically to make sure she was even still there. She never missed an opportunity to pick a person's mind, he thought idly. Her hair was tangled beyond belief, and yet it still seemed to shine in the dim light of the forest… Stop that train of thought, you dirty old man! You are - were her teacher, and possibly old enough to be her father. A stray thought was his undoing: She turns 18 in September; she's already of age… He stopped walking, not realizing till he stopped that they had arrived in the cottage's clearing. He could sense the wards bristling with the arrival of a "Mudblood". She brought him back to reality with a statement of the obvious,

"There's nothing here."

He attempted to control himself. No need to snap at her, she doesn't know what is going on in your filthy mind, he thought. Instead of the usual sneer he would employ with students, he merely said, "Nothing that we can see yet. Patience, I've got to do some foolish wand-waving." That could have been considered nice Severus, what on earth is wrong with you! he berated himself mentally. He knew what was wrong with him; there was nothing he could do about it just now, however. Instead he composed himself to detangle the wards from around the cottage. At least, those designed to keep those of Muggle heritage away from there. I suppose the only reason they don't attack me is because of my mother, he thought bleakly.

After a few complicated wand movements and half-murmured Latin phrases, Severus dropped his wand arm and motioned for Hermione to accompany him to the now visible cottage, ignoring her gasp of surprise at the building's reappearance. He opened the door and waited expectantly. Then:

"Miss Granger, it would be prudent to enter. You expressed a wish to acquaint yourself with the bathing facilities, I believe?" he said in a mocking tone. She ignored his attempts to bait her and thanked him for holding the door for her as she entered.

• • •

Harry snuck up to his room as the sun was rising, feeling quite pleased with himself. Sure, he and Ginny hadn't slept together in the interesting sense of the phrase, but what they were doing in that bed was anything but sleep. He wasn't tired; in fact Harry was wide awake now. Creeping silently up the stairs he heard someone who was less careful coming down them. Harry panicked: those were definitely Ron's footsteps, and he did not want an interrogation about just what he was up at this hour doing. In his terror he froze, never a good idea when in Ron Weasley's path, or a Bludger's path. Ron wasn't watching where he was going, therefore completely missed the fact that Harry was also on the steps.

THUD. Thud, thud, thud, CRASH.

Ron had just walked into Harry on the stairs, and proceeded to fall down the stairs with him. They both knocked their heads on the floor, and Harry was seeing Snitches.

"Bloody hell mate, watch where you're going, eh!"

"I could say the same to you, Ron."

Just then, Ginny poked her head out her door and saw the two of them sprawled on the floor in a heap. She seemed surprised, but quickly dissolved into giggles when seeing the identical scowls on their faces and their oblivious-ness to any observers in their argument over which was the bigger idiot in this instance. They both looked up quickly to see Ginny in stitches over their predicament.

"You oaf –"

"It was your bloody fault –"

"No way!"

"Yes it was, you're blind without your glasses, prat –"

"I'm wearing them!"

Just then, Molly Weasley entered the hallway.

"Boys, get off the floor, it doesn't matter how you got there. Ginny, control yourself, dear. The three of you will get dressed and help me with breakfast, since you can't seem to let anyone else sleep around here." She went to the kitchen muttering about the trouble boys will get into, even without the twins.

Ginny helped Harry to his feet, ignoring Ron's outstretched hand ("Hey Gin, what about me?"). He blushed, then took her other hand and looked into her eyes. Harry had completely forgotten anyone else was there at all, until...

"Oi, you're in love with my sister!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry tore his gaze away from Ginny and simply said, "You've caught on then?"

Ginny smiled at Harry then turned to Ron with her hands on her hips. "And you're in love with our best friend Hermione. You don't see us shouting it to the world." Ron's ears turned pink.

"Just… don't snog around me, right?" Ron looked a little green at that prospect. Then: "Harry, if you hurt her again…"

"Yeah I know. I'll be hexed six ways from Sunday." Harry seemed resigned to this fate.

"No. I'll get Charlie to feed you to a dragon after the rest have had a turn hexing you." Ron looked quite serious about this punishment.

"Honestly, you boys!" Ginny muttered.

"Right then, now that we've got that settled, I need breakfast." Ron seemed entranced by the smells of breakfast, and was quickly gone. Harry smiled wickedly and said,

"I have you alone and at my mercy yet again, Miss Weasley,"

She grinned and murmured, "Oh whatever shall I do, this villain seems bent on taking advantage of my innocence."

At that Harry paused. Does she really think that? Dropping the act, he said,

"You know, Ginny… if we're going somewhere you don't want to go…"

"Harry."

"Because, you can tell me if you want to stop –" Harry felt very uncertain, but Ginny was moving closer to him. Maybe hope isn't lost…

She put her finger on his lips, effectively silencing his doubts. "Trust me Harry, I'll let you know if you've done something I don't like. Until then, shut up and kiss me."

And he did, until Mrs. Weasley called up the stairs for them to come to the table for breakfast, and to be careful not to wake Remus and Nymphadora.

As they went to the kitchen, all Harry could think was, despite all the bad, there still is some good left for me. And her name is Ginny Weasley.

• • •

The first thing Hermione did when she entered the cottage was to ask her tall, dark and interesting guide to show her to the facilities where she might be able to get herself clean. He raised his eyebrow and gestured toward the stairs.

"I'm quite sure all you will require is in place. Indeed, if I am correct as to the purpose of this cottage, it would not be far wrong to assume there are many amenities that a woman may make use of." He grimaced and turned away, the thoughts seemingly disgusting him. Composing a list in her head, she decided that it wasn't quite at the top of the "Things To Inquire About", but pretty close. I get the feeling that this colleague of his isn't a very moral person. But at least he's willing to protect us from whatever it is that we're in danger from. Being rich helps too! She almost laughed at that thought as she climbed the stairs to find a bathroom.

On the next floor she found three bedrooms, a massive one that obviously belonged to the master of the house, and two guest bedrooms that shared a bathroom. Thank God the bathroom doesn't connect the two rooms! How awkward would that be? I would be extremely uncomfortable if that were the case. Not that I think he's perverted or anything like that, but it's the principle behind the thing. This whole situation is beyond propriety though, Hermione, you've got to remember that. He's saving me from something really horrible. What that is… I wish I could remember. She shrugged and got ready to bathe.

• • •

Severus heard her turn on the water from the kitchen. Since there was no one else around to hear him, he started to hum a tune from a musical he'd been persuaded to see by Albus the summer previous. He abruptly stopped when his traitorous mind supplied him with an image of just what Hermione might be doing in the shower at that moment. He groaned and set about making tea the Muggle way on the fire, to try and distract himself from the beautiful young woman upstairs. When the tea was ready, he sat with his back to the door to mentally distance himself from the situation upstairs. He lost himself in thought about the musical, not realizing that he was softly singing the words.

"Stars in your multitudes, scare to be counted, filling the darkness with order and light you are the sentinels silent and sure keeping watch in the night, keeping watch in the night. You know your place in the sky, you hold your course and your aim and each in your season turns and returns, and is always the same…"

A soft voice intruded on his thoughts.

"I always liked Eponine. Her part of Les Miserables was so sad in the musical."

Without turning around he replied,

"Gavroche was the one that hit me the hardest. The child didn't deserve to have his life cut short." He laughed then, a humourless and bitter laugh, "Isn't it ironic that the hero of the story is a man who, despite his numerous good deeds, is never considered trustworthy because he was once a criminal but renounced his old ways in an attempt to reach the light?"

"Kind of like you, isn't he? Valjean, I mean," she said. He stood up and turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide, and he could tell that she had just remembered something important. Her eyes flicked to his left arm and he let out a deep breath. Let your mind resemble a calm sea, Severus. She is a brilliant yet irritating know-it-all when she has her memories, of course she would blurt out whatever she knows now.

"Bloody Gryffindor know-it-alls," he muttered.

"Pardon me?"

"I didn't say anything."

She looked suspicious, but let it be for the moment. Good, maybe the girl will give me some peace. He remembered his manners in the nick of time, and offered her a cup of tea which she accepted. They sat in silence until the sun went down, quietly sipping tea and listening to the fire crackle merrily.

I had a request for some more of the male portions of the Golden Trio in this chapter, I hope I have adequately performed my duties. And I figured since I love Les Miserables, Severus and Hermione are allowed to love it too. Creative license, people! If you haven't seen Les Miserables I highly suggest it. Our shows at my school were amazing, kudos to the production team, makeup/stage crew, cast and of course my fellow orchestra members!

This may be my last update for a while; exams are looming like grey thunderclouds on the horizon, only I'm not looking forward to the storm. Grade 12 is tough, but at least my prom is later today! I can hardly believe it. My dress is so pretty, and almost all my friends are coming.

Enough about me, let's hear about you! Drop me a line, tell me how this rag is coming along. Love, hate, indifference? Reviews are reviews! A review by any other name would look as sweet in my email inbox. So if you call them concrit or flames, send them along anyway! Someone tell me what play and playwright my italicized (and slightly altered) quotation is from, and I'll award you with an imaginary snack at random.