Voldemort's return became much more real when Mr Weasley was attacked. She woke one snowy morning to hear rumours that Harry had had some dream about Ron's Dad and he and all the Weasleys had disappeared in the night, and before she could even feel confused, Dobby had told her to go to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was looking out of his window with Snape by his side when she entered. He immediately turned to her, piercing blue eyes twinkling and a slight smile around his mouth, despite his obvious tiredness.

"Miss Granger, I should imagine you already have heard a version of last night's events. The truth is this; Mr Weasley was attacked by a snake last night while on duty for the Order. He is in St. Mungo's and we are hopeful of his complete recovery. I was alerted to his injuries by Harry. He witnessed the attack through a dream." He told her softly, without preamble.

She stood there staring at him, a feeling of heavy sickness starting in her stomach and spreading through her. She had a million questions but couldn't seem to form a single one.

"Tea Miss Granger? Sherbet lemon?"

Words.

"No thank you Professor. Where's Harry and Ron and other Weasleys? Are they at St. Mungo's?" Her voice sounded very hoarse.

"Yes, I believe they will be there by now but I should imagine they'll be staying at Grimmauld Place over Christmas."

"I want to go there."

Dumbledore fixed her with his stare that felt every bit as revealing as an X-ray.

"I was under the impression you were going on holiday with your parents." He said heavily.

"I was." She answered, wondering how on earth he knew about that. "But I want to be with them. Harry and the Weasleys."

He nodded, looking very grave. Snape was staring at her too but she didn't quite feel up to looking back at him, his endless black eyes were entrancing and sometimes really quite frightening.

"Your parents-" Dumbledore began but she cut him off.

"Don't worry, I won't tell them anything, I'll just say I need to study or something."

The headmaster frowned.

"I was merely going that they will be disappointed not to see you Miss Granger. I know you spent the majority of your summer at Grimmauld Place as well."

She felt a huge stab of guilt but quickly suppressed it and stared back at Dumbledore defiantly; this was what she chose a long time ago. She chose magic. She chose Hogwarts. She chose Harry. That wasn't about to change.

"You'll need to wait until term officially ends until you can join them, Professor Umbridge isn't thrilled that 5 students disappeared right under her nose, if another on went missing … well." His eyes twinkled. Hermione hoped Umbridge was sufficiently furious. She smiled grimly.

"I'll arrange for either Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape here to escort you from Hogwarts, you can catch the Knight Bus once you're out of the protective boarders."

"Thank you sir."

She didn't want to have to wait a whole day but at least she could go eventually.

Then something dawned on her.

"Sir, Harry's dreams are normally about Voldemort," Snape flinched slightly but she chose to ignore it, "the snake…"

Dumbledore smiled suddenly and she found herself smiling back a little, although she wasn't entirely sure why.

"Astute as ever."

She waited for him to continue but he didn't. Maybe she'd get some more information out of Harry when she saw him. She sighed. Harry was probably riddled with guilt about the whole thing by now, he'd find some way to make it his fault. Poor Harry. And poor, poor Mr Weasley. She hoped he was alright. Suddenly she just really wanted to be by herself.

"May I leave sir? I need to send an owl to my parents and finish my packing."

Dumbledore pinned her with a piercing stare once again.

"Yes Miss Granger. Be at the Entrance Hall tomorrow at 1pm." He said finally.

"Yes sir. Thank you."

She turned and left, leaning against the wall once she was alone and feeling tears prickle in her eyes. Not yet. She decided to have a huge breakfast, pick up a few more layers, send an owl home and then spend the remainder of the day walking around the castle grounds killing time. She'd finished packing ages ago.

Hermione watched the school owl fly away from the castle with so many different feelings playing out in her chest she felt like a human kaleidoscope. When it was just a tiny dot on the horizon she turned and began heading down the stairs. Something very black was obstructing her path. Snape. She was so close to tears she didn't much feel like seeing him so she flashed him a quick smile and carried on her way, throwing herself out of the double doors and setting off briskly towards the lake. Logically, she knew that Harry had gone with the Weasleys because he'd been the one that had the dream, but she couldn't help the tiny, illogical part of her that felt left out and angry. She cared about Mr Weasley very much. She knew it was just old insecurities playing on her mind but it was still very unpleasant.

Clearing a hole through the snow with her wand and setting up a few well placed Warming charms, Hermione sat down cross-legged and allowed a few tears to fall from her eyes. For Mr Weasley, for Harry, for her disappointed parents and for the end of peacetime. Sometimes it was very good and very necessary to cry. The grounds of Hogwarts were quite deserted and the snow muffled every sound around her; it started to feel like she was the only person in existence, it was something that was somehow both isolating and wonderful. She dried her eyes and wiped her face. That was enough now.

She wondered absent-mindedly if the lake froze solid, and if it did, what happened to the giant squid and the Merpeople? She heard footsteps approaching her, somewhat muffled by the snow. Hermione turned and saw Snape walking swiftly towards her looking thunderous. She frowned. She wasn't out of bounds, it wasn't after hours…. What on earth was she doing wrong?

"Sitting alone in the snow all because the poor little Gryffindor feels left out and hard done by?" He snarled when he was closer. "Freezing to death will be of no use to Mr Weasley or your little friends."

She growled in frustration, stood, and pulled Snape bodily into her circle of warming charms by his arm. His ever-present snide remarks were tiring and in this case, rather inaccurate. Well, the part about freezing to death anyway. She glared at him as the realisation dawned on his face, followed by shock and he looked down to where she was still holding his arm. She quickly let go and sat back down on the floor with her back to him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

He sat down next to her and she tried to hide her smile behind the sleeve of her cloak. Neither of them spoke for a minute, then…

"What happens to the giant squid and the Merpeople when the lake freezes?" She asked him, looking at his profile. His hair was greasy as always and he looked tired and tense but oddly much younger when she was level with him. She saw a slight crinkle form around his eyes when he looked at her and she immediately associated it with amusement, then vaguely wondered why.

"I would assume that if it is only the top of the lake that freezes, then they continue with their lives as usual and when the lake freezes solid, they get frozen as well."

It was nice not to hear a sneer in his voice.

"But they don't die?"

"Magic."

She huffed out a laugh and then they settled back into a silence.

"Mr Weasley will be fine." He said stiffly and she stared at him, realising he was trying to reassure her and wondering what on Earth had happened to her Professor.

"Thank you sir." She said quietly.

"I had nothing to do with his recovery." He snapped and glared at her. She couldn't help it. She laughed. Loudly. It seemed to ring in the air around them. Snape stared at her, evidently just as surprised as she was. She grinned at him and he looked even more surprised which in turn made her chuckle. Poor man. His being so shocked at someone smiling at him wasn't really funny but her emotions were all over the place and at the minute she felt gloriously and inexplicably happy. Then an unwelcome and chilling thought entered her head, making her smile fade instantly.

"Will you be punished sir? For Harry seeing what had happened and Mr Weasley being saved?"

He stared at her, a slight frown marring his expression and he sighed, a big, world-weary sigh that left her feeling breathless somehow.

"I doubt even someone as vicious as the Dark Lord could find a way to make that my fault." He answered, but he looked a little worried all the same.

"Do you get Summoned a lot in term time?" She asked, mentally crossing her fingers and toes.

His stare intensified, his black eyes seeming impossibly deep, but she met his gaze unflinchingly and unwaveringly and eventually he seemed to slump and looked at the floor, some of his hair slipping forward and curtaining his face. She wanted to reach out and push the hair back so she could see his expression, she started to reach a hand out then froze and quickly pulled it back, praying he hadn't noticed. This was Professor Snape. She could not touch his hair. However much she wanted to. Wait … did she want to touch his hair? Yes you do, a voice answered for her, and you've wanted to hold his hand before, more than once, and now you want to rest your head on his shoulder. No I don't she thought fiercely, but... Shit. What on earth was going on?

She was interrupted from her startling realisations by his voice, deep and soft and low.

"It's not as frequent while school is on but I'm sure I'll be expected to more than make up for my absence when the holidays start."

She still couldn't see his expression but his voice sounded bitter and desolate.

"I'm sorry." She said softly.

He turned to glare at her.

"It has nothing to do with you." He snapped, then turned to stare at the ground again.

She shivered and renewed the charms around them, wishing she could do something to make his life a little easier.

"If you get hurt-"

"That is none of your concern."

"Even if that were true you can't expect me not to worry about you! I care about you Professor Snape, I care about all my teachers but you're the one that has to go to him. The thought of you injured and alone in the snow … at Christmas" she broke off, feeling a lump form in her throat. She stared at the floor.

"The Headmaster normally sends Fawkes to wait for me if he knows I've been Summoned. If I was badly injured, Fawkes would fetch him." His voice sounded very stiff, almost forced.

"And if the Headmaster doesn't know you've been Summoned?" Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper and she looked up at him, her amber eyes meeting his startled black ones.

He didn't answer for some time, they just looked at one another, and his eyes seemed infinite, so infinite she wondered if she'd fall into them, but she didn't look away and neither did he … time just seemed to slip away…

And then he looked away from her, staring at the ground once more and she found herself so out of breath she wondered briefly if she'd forgotten to breathe the entire time they'd been looking at one another.

"I'll be fine." He said, and it took her several seconds to remember what they'd been talking about.

"I really hope so." She answered honestly, still looking at him, but he was avoiding her eyes.

"Was Umbridge really furious when she found out Harry and the Weasleys had disappeared?" She asked, in an attempt to get back to some semblance of normality, and trying and failing to keep the hope out of her voice.

Snape turned towards her again, smirking this time, the amused crinkle back around his eyes.

"She was bright red in the face and she stamped her foot at Professor Dumbledore. Twice."

His voice had been entirely neutral but Hermione could sense his amusement all the same. She'd noticed that none of teachers liked Umbridge and it felt comforting to know that students and teachers were both united against her, even if it wasn't all that obvious.

She grinned at him again, picturing the toad having a tantrum and wondering what she could possibly do to insight another one.

It was really quite dark when Snape informed her that they shouldn't miss dinner. Time seemed to be slipping away from her rather a lot recently. He stood and told her to wait 15 minutes before following him inside. She watched him leave with a odd feeling in her chest; she knew that she only had to wait because it wouldn't do for him to be seen walking anywhere with the mudblood friend of Harry Potter, but it made her feel as if they were doing something forbidden all the same. The thought was a weird one.

Hermione told herself very firmly that she wasn't disappointed when it was Professor McGonagall that met her in the Entrance Hall and took her to get the Knight Bus. But then she was hurtling towards London with Moody by her side, gripping his arm tightly and focusing so firmly on not falling over that all thoughts of Snape left her mind. And then she arrived at Headquarters to find that Harry was hiding away because he was convinced he'd somehow managed to become a snake in the Ministry of Magic and bite Mr Weasley.

That boy.

*"Harry, you've had these dreams before," she said. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."

"This was different," said Harry, shaking his head. "I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake … what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London - ?"

"One day," said Hermione, thoroughly exasperated, "you'll read Hogwarts: A History, and perhaps it will remind you that you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."

"You didn't leave your bed, mate," said Ron. "I saw you thrashing around in your sleep for at least a minute before we could wake you up."*

And just like that it shaped up to be a very Merry Christmas.

Mr Weasley was doing well despite his run in with muggle stitches. But then *at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE, a man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

"Blimey!" said Ron, also staring at the man.

"Oh, my goodness," she said. "Professor Lockhart."

Their ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved towards them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown.

"Well, hello there!" he said. "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

"Er - how are you, Professor?" said Ron, sounding slightly guilty.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

"Er - we don't want any at the moment, thanks," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, "Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?"

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, "Haven't we met?"

"Er ... yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"

"Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?"

And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming.

"Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say around dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice called, "Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?"

A motherly-looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at them.

"Oh, Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day, too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"

"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!"

"Listen to him," said the Healer, taking Lockhart's arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old. "He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be starting to come back. Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked ... not that he's dangerous! But," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "he's a bit of a danger to himself, bless him ... doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back ... it is nice of you to have come to see him."

"Er," said Ron, gesturing uselessly at the floor above, "actually, we were just – er-"

But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Ron's feeble mutter of 'going to have a cup of tea' trailed away into nothingness. They looked at each other helplessly, then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor.

"Let's not stay long"' Ron said quietly.*

The whole experience was rather disturbing really, not least because she couldn't believe she'd ever had a crush on that man. But then she saw Neville, and found out why he was brought up by his Gran, and suddenly Christmas didn't feel so Merry any more. Tortured to insanity. Somehow she'd never really thought that anything could be worse than dying, or someone you loved dying but this, this was so much worse. They'd been tortured for so long they'd lost their minds. Alive but not living. Poor Neville.

She thought of Snape, having to make up for his absence during term time. 'Just after effects from the Cruciatus' he'd said when he'd got back from his first Summons, so dismissively it had scared her, but she'd never considered that this could happen to him. The thought of Professor Snape in St Mungo's, looking thin and worn and not quite alive with wispy grey hair and a spattering of dribble on his chin was horrifying and haunting and oh dear God she hoped he would never ever ever end up like that.

Things didn't really cheer up much after that either. Sirius became sulky again once Christmas was over and his mood seemed rather infectious. She didn't much want to stay at headquarters but, for the first time, she didn't much feel like going back to Hogwarts either.

*"'Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley poking her head into the bedroom, where Ron and Harry were playing wizard chess watched by herself, Ginny and Crookshanks, "could you come down to the kitchen? Professor Snape would like a word with you."

Professor Snape. Her heart seemed to stop. He was here. At Grimmauld Place. That must mean he was ok, surely? She'd been filled with worry for him ever since Christmas Day, unable to get the image of him insane and decrepit out of her head.

"Squash him - squash him, he's only a pawn, you idiot. Sorry, Mrs Weasley, what did you say?"

"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen. He'd like a word."

Harry's mouth fell open in horror. She simultaneously experienced jealousy and irritation. Crookshanks, whom she'd been restraining with difficulty for the past quarter of an hour, leapt gleefully on to the board and set the pieces running for cover, squealing at the top of their voices.

"Snape?" said Harry blankly.

"Professor Snape, dear," said Mrs Weasley reprovingly. "Now come on, quickly, he says he can't stay long."*

Professor Snape was here. Would she be able to see him? Speak to him? Even if she only got a glance at him it would put her mind at ease. This is silly, she told herself, she'd see him tomorrow anyway. But she didn't want to have to wait, not if he was here…

She followed the rest of the Weasleys downstairs to greet Mr Weasley in a sort of trance, exclaiming and smiling and laughing right on cue but without paying the slightest bit of attention. As they approached the kitchen she heard raised voices.

*"NO!" Harry yelled, "Sirius, don't!"

"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius,

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

"Harry - get - out - of - it!" snarled Sirius.*

And then they all burst into the room and froze, *gazing at the scene in front of them, which was suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointing into each other's faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart.

"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, "what's going on here?"

Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands. Each wore an expression of utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand, turned on his heel and swept back across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. At the door he looked back.

"Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter."

And he was gone.*

Hermione stood frozen. Then in the commotion that followed she slipped out of the kitchen unnoticed and looked around frantically for Snape, he was nowhere. In a last, ditch attempt to find him she flung open the front door and the man himself almost fell on top of her; evidently he'd been leaning on it from the outside.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he regained his balance, glaring at her, then looking surprised, then troubled, then something that looked suspiciously like pleased before his face shut down completely. She put the door on the latch and pulled it shut behind them. A slightly uncomfortable silence settled. She was filled with relief that Snape seemed relatively ok but she daren't ask just how he was after his encounter with Sirius. She wanted to say something reassuring or comforting or anything really but came up with a blank.

"I really don't like Sirius." She blurted out, then felt herself go bright red. Surely she could have come up with something better than that …

Snape chuckled.

It was low and quiet and rumbling and beautiful.

Snape had chuckled.

She'd made Professor Snape chuckle.

Chuckling.

A feeling like molten gold started in her heart and seemed to fill every inch of her body. She felt like she was glowing.

She beamed up at him but his face had shut down again and he was sneering at her. She'd never felt more aggrieved to see his sneer.

Taking a huge breath and holding it for a count of 5, she grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and slipped back inside, getting nothing more than an impression of her Professor's startled and flushed face before she was back in the kitchen, no one noticing her brief absence.

She tried to hide her jealously when Harry told them about learning Occlumency, she'd read a bit about it and it was really fascinating. Snape must be a wonderful Occlumens to hide his true loyalty from Voldemort. Harry would get to learn from the best.

*"Dumbledore wants to stop you having those dreams about Voldemort. Well, you won't be sorry not to have them anymore, will you?"

"Extra lessons with Snape?" said Ron, sounding aghast. "I'd rather have the nightmares!"*

What an idiot.

My 20th chapter! I don't know why I find this so exciting but I really do! Thank you so much for reading this story, I can't even type how amazing it is to know there's people from all over the place reading it and (hopefully) enjoying it.

Thank you to everyone who reviews as well, it's so wonderful to hear from you and it's very helpful - I find it impossible to view my writing from an objective point of view.

And I just reached 200 follows! It's a good, good day. I'll try and have another chapter by the end of the weekend but it's a busy one, it may end up being Monday or Tuesday.

Thank you so much internet and readers and yay!

I'll shush now I think I'm embarrassing myself.

*Text between asterisks* from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by the Goddess J.K Rowling.