Hermione Granger was very angry.

Her summer had started off ok. She'd gone and stayed with Victor for a few days, lost her virginity having had lots of sex, which had even started to be quite pleasant by the end, and Victor had certainly taught her some new … skills. And then she'd spent a couple of weeks with her parents. She hadn't told them about You-Know-Who's return. Or anything that had happened with Harry. Or Snape. In fact her letters to them the whole of the school year had been rather absent of anything that might have made them worry, and now she really had no idea how to even begin to explain anything. So she just … hadn't.

But that wasn't why she was angry. She was angry because she was in Grimmauld Place while Harry had been stuffed back with his awful relatives that were neglectful at best and abusive at worst and she and Ron weren't allowed to tell him anything. And she could tell form his replies that he was starting to get pissed off and she really couldn't blame him. After all that he'd been through he'd just been cut off from everything and when he was finally allowed to join them he was going to be furious with her and Ron, when he was really going to need their support. And she was angry because even though she'd managed to ward of Rita Skeeter (who knew blackmail could be so wonderful) the Daily Prophet was still writing horrid things about Harry and Dumbledore.

*'I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.'*

Shit.

Dementors.

Shit.

And now Harry had performed magic, the thing everyone had been worrying about. Well maybe they should have told him what was going on. Adults could be very frustrating sometimes.

Shit.

They weren't allowed to write back either. Poor Harry was probably going mad. She felt a huge stab of irritation at Dumbledore.

But Harry would be coming to them soon. Moody had told her so. She formed a sort of friendship with him. Well, it couldn't really be called a friendship but it was something close to that. They were cordial to one another. He trusted her a tiny bit. She'd been to visit him in the Hospital Wing a few days after… Well, just after. He'd been very thin and twitchy and afraid. She hadn't said much, just caught him up on all that had happened during his confinement, the finer points that Dumbledore hadn't had time to go over. Then she'd just sat with him for a bit every few days until term ended. His loneliness was palpable. Almost 10 months in a trunk would do that to you. It was a shame he couldn't be friends with Snape really, he was lonely too. Poor Snape. He'd been in a bit of a state last time she'd been with him, as much as he'd tried to pretend otherwise. His trembling, curled up form under his bedcovers came floating to the front of her mind. If it had been anyone else she probably would have lain down with them and cuddled up, especially if had been Harry or Ron, but there was no way she could have done that with Snape and lived to tell the tale. She'd felt incredibly reckless just sitting on the bed with him, then she'd wondered if she'd suddenly become suicidal when she moved and put her hand on his arm, but he hadn't killed her, or even demanded her removal… He'd just lain there, shaking and sweating and struggling to breath.

She pushed her mind firmly back to the present; thinking about the way her Professor had been that night made her chest feel funny again and she didn't like it.

*"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless-but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us-the dementors! When we heard-and that Ministry hearing-it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations—"

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning as he closed the door behind Harry.

"He seemed to think it was best"' she said rather breathlessly. "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right," said Harry.

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles-"' Ron began.

"Yeah?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?"

"Well, no-but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time-"

"So why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?" Harry asked, "Did you-er-bother to ask him at all?"

"We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on," said Ron. "We did, mate. But he's really busy now, we've only seen him twice since we came here and he didn't have much time, he just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote, he said the owls might be intercepted-"

"He could still could've kept me informed if he'd wanted to," Harry said shortly. "You're not telling me he doesn't know ways to send messages without owls? And how come I have to stay at the Dursleys' while you two get to join in everything that's going on here?" said Harry, his voice growing louder with every word. "How come you two are allowed to know everything that's going on?"

"We're not!" Ron interrupted. "Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young-"

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT- WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!

"BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

"Harry, we wanted to tell you, we really did-" she began.

"CAN'T'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE SENT ME AN OWL, BUT DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR-"

"Well, he did-"

"FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON-"

"We wanted to-"

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER-"

"No, honest-"

"Harry, we're really sorry!" she said desperately, her eyes now sparkling with tears. "You're absolutely right, Harry - I'd be furious if it was me!"*

There was a long and awkward silence. She didn't blame Harry in the slightest for his reaction, but that didn't make it any easier.

The twins' arrival seemed to facilitate a more civil conversation.

*"Snape!" said Harry quickly, his hunger for information obvious, "Is he here?"

"Yeah," said George, carefully closing the door and sitting down on one of the beds; Fred and Ginny followed. "Giving a report. Top secret."

"Git," said Fred idly.

"He's on our side," she said reprovingly.

Ron snorted. "Doesn't stop him being a git. The way he looks at us when he sees us..."

"Bill doesn't like him, either," said Ginny, as though that settled the matter.*

Hermione sighed. He had been being a git to them, even though he hadn't said one word; the looks of disgust were enough. She'd been planning on cornering him to try and find out how he was and if he was hurt, she'd done so much research into Healing over the summer, but he'd been avoiding her like the plague and she'd only seem like an extra annoyance if she kept trying to speak to him. Instead she'd settled for making herself quietly available to him when he was around, just on the off chance he might, possibly want to see or speak to her. She was aware of how unlikely that was.

Well of course Harry managed to get more information within a few hours of his return than the rest of them had managed in weeks. But at least they knew something now. The Order was active, You-Know-Who wasn't moving into the open but was instead focusing on some kind of weapon. That didn't sound good. Then naturally she relayed everything she now knew to Ginny.

Hermione wasn't sure if she liked Sirius. Aside from what he'd done to Snape when they were at Hogwarts, and his continuing rudeness to her Professor, he was rather sulky. And he treated that house elf like filth.

*"Was Regulus killed by an Auror?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Oh, no," said Sirius. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."*

She felt another knot of worry in her stomach for Snape. What would You-Know-Who do to him if he ever found out Snape was loyal to the Order? And why had he turned away from the You-Know-Who? Maybe she should try and corner him at some point, even if he just shouted at her she might have enough time to tell him to be careful…. But she'd have to make sure not to do it in front of the others. She still hadn't mentioned anything about Snape to them, and with good reason, but that didn't mean that she didn't feel bad about it sometimes; she wasn't used to keeping things from her friends. But then she'd kept her stay with Victor from them too. Another stab of guilt. And they didn't know she'd spent some time with Moody either. Oh dear. Maybe she'd eventually end up leading a double life just like Snape himself. The thought was not a pleasant one.

She in fact managed to corner the man himself two days later. It had been by chance; she'd been coming out of the ground floor bathroom when he'd appeared by the front door, evidently knowing how to open it without waking Mrs Black. He looked tired and on edge but other than that ok.

"Are you alright?" She asked him quietly, not wanting to alert anyone else of his arrival.

He glowered at her.

"Mind your own business."

He must have been tired if that's all he managed to come up with.

"Please be careful sir." She pleaded as he swept down the hall.

He didn't look back.

She saw him at a distance a few more times but if he did look at her, it was a very fleeting glance.

Harry's hearing at the Ministry loomed and though she was sure there was no way they could expel him, there was no denying she, and everyone else in the house, was worried. And Harry was worried too, even if he didn't say a word about it.

When the day finally came the whole house seemed to be in a state of limbo. Mrs Weasley tried to make them clean but without any real intention. Everyone was so tense and time seemed to have slowed to a fraction of its normal rate.

She felt faint with anxiety when she heard him come back but…

*"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," she said, holding a shaking hand over her eyes, "there was no case against you, none at all."

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering you all knew I'd get off," said Harry, smiling.

Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred, George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went: "He got off, he got off, he got off-"*

And everything seemed much funnier and lighter than it had all week.

Hermione saw Snape properly only once more before the holidays ended. She was in the Library late one evening when he came in. She half expected him to walk straight out once he saw her but his dark, cold eyes just swept over her then moved to the bookcase. She was reading up about Healing again, the books in Grimmauld Place were all rather dark but that meant that there were all sorts of cures for nasty accidents and curses for her to learn.

"Good evening Professor." She tried timidly.

"Is it?" He snapped in reply.

She huffed out a surprised laugh.

"Well it's not a hideous one." She ventured.

He looked at her, a slight crinkle of amusement around his eyes then looked back to the bookcase. He was looking for something specific. This was probably going to be her only chance to speak to him for some time.

"I know you hate me asking, interfering, whatever," she said quickly, "but I just … it's just … are you ok? Or as ok as you can be given the circumstances? We're all scared but you're the one out there, with him and I just … I worry about you sir. What if he finds out about your loyalties or what if you're hurt? I just …" She tailed off, frustrated at not properly being able to convey her thoughts.

Snape was staring at her oddly. He didn't look angry. He ran his long fingers over his thin mouth. He had quite nice fingers. Elegant.

"I am not something you should be worrying about." He told her, his voice quiet and his brows furrowed. He looked confused. She didn't know what to say but a slightly bitter smile appeared on her face; he didn't understand that she was worried because she cared about him.

"But are you hurt?" She had to know.

"I'm not." He answered, frowning still. She felt herself sag in relief, not even fully realising how worried she'd been about him. He looked even more confused and she felt a stab of something in her chest. How could he not realise she would care about him after what had happened the night You-Know-Who had returned? Before that even? He returned to the bookcase once more, his hair falling over his face so she could no longer see his expression. His hair looked a little greasier than normal. She sighed and curled into the armchair more thoroughly, slipping off her shoes and tucking her feet underneath herself.

He finally selected a particularly Dark looking book and then turned to watch her for a minute, looking a little indecisive. She wondered if he wanted to stay; he probably hadn't had that much company over the summer, accept at Order or Death Eater meetings, neither of which could be very relaxing. She wanted him to stay.

"I don't like Sirius." She blurted out suddenly, surprised by her own words and their accuracy.

Snape stared at her for a moment, and then he let a big huff of air from his large nose, presumably in amusement, his eyes shining. She beamed at him. She'd almost managed to make Professor Snape laugh! He looked rather surprised and then his face immediately shut down.

"Indeed?"

"He's rude to you, he's horrible to his house elf, he's sulky and sullen and I know he secretly wanted Harry to be expelled so that he wouldn't be alone. That makes him selfish too."

There. It was good to voice what she'd been starting to feel from the very first few days at Grimmauld Place.

Snape was studying her face as if seeking to find the truthfulness of her words. She looked steadily back up at him, his expression was wary and now she'd had longer to look, she could see how tired he appeared, huge dark shadows under his eyes and tension radiating from his body.

"And why would this interest me?" He murmured.

"I don't know sir, I suppose I just wanted to express my thoughts to someone I knew wasn't Sirius' biggest fan."

He huffed out a surprised laugh again but his expression was bitter. Amusing him sent a wave of pleasure over her all the same.

"Would you like to join me?" She asked him timidly. He stared at her again, his face impassive, then, to her secret delight, he settled himself stiffly on the sofa next to her armchair and opened his book. She was just about to become absorbed in her own book once again when he snapped his own shut.

"I have things to do you silly girl." He snarled at her and then exited the room so fast he she was sure he was on the verge of breaking into a run. She stared at the door utterly perplexed. What a strange man he was.

*Down in the basement Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarlet banner over the heavily laden dinner table, which read CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE - NEW PREFECTS. She looked in a better mood than she'd been all holiday.

"I thought we'd have a little party not a sit-down dinner," she told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny as they entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled." She added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there and Moody stumped in shortly after. Harry seemed in better spirits, Hermione still found it a little odd that Dumbledore hadn't made him a Prefect, in fact the Headmaster seemed to be treating Harry a little oddly full stop.

"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasley brightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his travelling cloak. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages - could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."

"No problem, Molly..."

Moody's electric-blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen.

"Drawing room..." he growled, as the pupil contracted. "Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it... Yeah, it's a boggart... Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"*

He was a good man.

"So what does a boggart look like then?" She asked him interestedly.

He chuckled his rasping laugh. "It looks like a cloud of black smoke with two huge blue eyes."

"Really?"

And just like that her last evening at Headquarters became even better.

'But it's a shame it's not Snape' said a tiny voice in her head. She choked on her butterbeer. Where had that come from? Lately he had never been too far from her thoughts but to actually wish his presence on herself, when he could be so very cruel….

The year ahead was certainly going to be interesting.

It sure is! So here's another chapter. I actually don't have anything to say really... So I suppose I should probably stop typing.

Thanks for reading!

*Text in between asterisks* from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (which is probably my fav) by J.K Rowling.