The balmy days slipped past through May, and Hermione was torn between feeling as if she was floating with happiness, and wanting to cry and throw things. Snape seemed to have made a complete recovery, but she rather got the impression he was avoiding her. Not in a necessarily negative way, he just seemed … sort of awkward around her. But then that wasn't exactly surprising. She'd replayed the moment they'd shared in her head about a million times over the weeks, and there was a nagging part of her that was sure Snape had felt something too. The way his eyes had burned onto hers still sent a shiver up her spine and over her arms. But he was her Professor, and he would never … well, it was irrelevant anyway. It just wouldn't happen.

With all the build up for the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match coming up, and all the work they had piled up, Hermione almost managed to put her Professor out of her mind on occasion. She found she couldn't look him in the eye for too long in class, however much she wanted to, for fear of blushing, or giving something away. So she'd taken to drinking in the sight of him in the hall and in corridors, when she had the anonymity of being in a crowd. He'd been looking increasingly stressed. She supposed the dread of the terrible thing he had to do was adding to his already horrendously difficult life. Hermione had also come to the vague conclusion that whatever it was, was going to happen at around the end of the school year. It wasn't a very logical conclusion, but that was when things seemed to happen, and so she found herself more and more on edge as time went on.

Harry showed up in the common room one afternoon, pale, shaky and covered in blood. He told them everything that happened in the bathroom.

Harry had almost murdered Malfoy.

At first the horror of the whole situation clouded her mind, but then…

Snape had to protect Malfoy, or he'd die.

Malfoy had almost died.

What did that mean for Snape?

Harry hadn't said anything about him looking … ill … or something… But still…

She wanted to go to him.

She wanted to go to him straight away and make sure he was alright.

But she couldn't.

And then she was very, very angry with Harry for being so bloody stupid and putting Snape in danger.

*"I won't say 'I told you so,'" she said, unable to hold her tongue.

"Leave it, Hermione," said Ron angrily.

"I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person," she continued, unable to stop herself. "And I was right, wasn't I."

"No, I don't think you were," said Harry stubbornly.

"Harry," said Hermione, "how can you still stick up for that book when that spell —"

"Will you stop harping on about the book!" snapped Harry. "The Prince only copied it out! It's not like he was advising anyone to use it! For all we know, he was making a note of something that had been used against him!"

"I don't believe this," she said, outraged. "You're actually defending—

"I'm not defending what I did!" said Harry quickly. "I wish I hadn't done it, and not just because I've got about a dozen detentions. You know I wouldn't've used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy, but you can't blame the Prince, he hadn't written 'try this out, it's really good' — he was just making notes for himself, wasn't he, not for anyone else..."*

But then she tried to suppress her anger, Harry was a bloody idiot, but he didn't know how much his actions could have affected … everything. She sighed.

And then Ginny started snapping at her. Hermione was a little stung, she and Ginny had always gotten on well, but she knew the youngest Weasley still had more than a few feelings for Harry, and always had. Love could do weird things to people, and besides, she was far too preoccupied with Snape to care much anyway.

Hermione took the first opportunity to excuse herself and slipped gratefully out of the portrait hole, the cool evening air clearing her head, and she made her way slowly down to the dungeons, full of nervous anticipation. It was just before curfew, but the corridors were pretty much deserted, and she met no one on her descent of the castle, but the quiet that usually left her feeling calm and soothed only added to her anxiety.

And then she was once again standing outside his office door.

She knocked.

No answer.

She knocked again.

And again.

And again and again, until she was pounding on his door, déjà vu plaguing her mind.

Snape wrenched open the door, glaring at her when his eyes focused on her face. He looked … detached, angry … almost menacing. A shudder of unease ran through her.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, Snape had said nothing.

His eyes studied her face for several heartbeats.

"Stupid, fucking girl." He snarled, then turned on his heel and marched back into his rooms.

She stood frozen to the spot in complete and utter shock, until the door began to swing closed, then her brain kicked in and she darted forwards, catching it at the last second and entering his office with no small amount of anticipation.

It was empty.

The door to his quarters was swinging shut … she ran forwards and darted through, finding herself once again in his little sitting room.

Snape was sat upright in his favourite armchair, a bottle of firewhiskey on his table, a glass in his hand.

Her mind took her straight back to third year.

Shit.

This must be bad.

She sat perched on the second best armchair, her body faced towards him, her hands clenched in her lap.

"What happened sir?" She asked, her voice quiet and wavering.

"And what do you mean by that?"

His voice was devoid of any sort of emotion. Her unease increased.

"Well sir, what happened with Malfoy …" Hermione expected him to interrupt her, but he didn't, his eyes on his glass. "Malfoy … well … he nearly, nearly … died didn't he? So what happened? What does … what did that mean for you sir?"

"You are aware that I have made an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco, Miss Granger. Draco nearly died. What you think nearly happened to me?"

His voice was so … so empty. Something was really, really wrong here… Her mind suddenly caught up with a realisation that chilled her.

"You … you nearly died?!" She gasped.

Snape nodded, his face cold and expressionless, masklike.

"Oh my God."

She stood unknowingly, her blood bumping. Snape looked up at her.

"Oh my God you nearly died."

He still stared at her impassively and a knot of worry formed tightly in her chest.

"Are you finished, Miss Granger?" He said suddenly.

"What?"

"If you have finished with your silly display, then I would ask you to leave."

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

Snape cocked his head slightly, a horrible sneer twisting his face, but did not answer her.

And that was when she just knew it wasn't right, there was something just wrong with him, and she needed to make it stop.

"Seriously, what are you doing Professor Snape?" She said, trying to keep some sort of formality to her tone. "Stop it."

"Stop what, Miss Granger?" He said, standing too, and Hermione noticed for the first time, just how tall he was.

"Stop doing … this." She said shrilly, gesturing vaguely at him.

His sneer increased and there was a nasty glint to his eyes. A trickle of something that felt suspiciously like fear ran down her spine.

"I am Occluding, Miss Granger… Don't you like it?"

It felt like she was playing a game she didn't understand.

"No." She answered frowning, and fighting the urge to take a step back from him.

"But it's so very useful," said Snape, his voice slipping into his teaching tones, "this is how I get through Death Eater meetings Miss Granger. I take all my emotions, all those inconvenient little feelings, and I suppress them. I hide them. Naturally I must allow some through. Anger mostly, anger, hate and all those little injustices. Having those at my disposal certainly makes thing easier for me. Easier when I stand with Death Eaters, my brothers, and face my Master. Easier when I watch people get tortured, killed, when I help. When I laugh at them for begging for mercy, when I laugh at their suffering."

Hermione wasn't quite sure what had happened, but as Snape had been talking he'd been walking towards her, and she'd been backing away, and now she had her back pressed to a wall, and Snape was very close to her. Far from relishing in their proximity, Snape's whole demeanour was menacing, his face was close to hers but it was mean and removed, his breath was coming out hard against her face and it smelt strongly of alcohol. And for the first time in his presence, she was afraid. Not afraid of making him angry, or getting into trouble … she was just afraid.

"Stop it." She whispered, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Please."

He smiled. It was a crooked, evil smile that showed his yellowing teeth. And for a moment, she forgot about all that had happened between them, and all she knew, and could think of nothing but Snape the Death Eater and be utterly terrified.

Then she got a whiff of … him. That earthy, honest scent under it all. And she remembered. He was a good man. He'd nearly died today. He was Occluding … pushing everything down … because of what had happened?

Snape had nearly died today.

Her hands reached out to touch him, they were on their way to his arms … but then she wanted to feel his heart. It was stupid really, but she just wanted to feel it beat … know that he was okay… So at the last minute her hands changed direction, and rested on his chest…

Before she knew what had happened Snape had grabbed her wrists and forced them up over her head, pinning them painfully against the wall with one hand, his other flying to his wand.

And she was back to being completely terrified.

But then…

Something flashed across Snape's flushed, furious face. It was only there for a second … but it had looked something like … fear? Regret?

And the terror lessened slightly.

"Professor Snape," she said softly, "please let go."

He frowned.

"It's only me," she continued, "you can stop now."

His frown increased.

"You're better than this, you're a good man. I know you are."

A fleeting look of pain overtook his gaunt features.

Hermione hadn't been putting much thought into what she was saying, but what she said next was purely instinctive, and she surprised herself as much as her Professor.

"Severus."

He let go of her, and moved to the other side of the room so fast he managed to make his robes billow, even in the very limited space. He was facing away from her.

She gave herself a few minutes to catch her breath and find calm, half expecting Snape to send her running, but he still hadn't moved.

Hermione approached him very slowly, and didn't dare touch him when she drew level. Instead she stood to the side of him, knowing he'd be able to see her in the corner of his eye.

Something was still wrong though, the way he was standing… He was still Occluding.

"Professor," she said gently, "I think you should take your shields down now."

He didn't respond in any way for a long time. Just when Hermione was starting to grow restless, he turned his head to look at her. His eyes were cold.

"I don't want to." He said.

And her heart ached for him. Of course he didn't want to, when he stopped Occluding he'd have to experience everything he'd been repressing, feel it as if for the first time; raw and scary and painful. Maybe the Occlumency was protecting him from more than just what had happened today…

"I'll stay." She whispered, not knowing whether her words would be a comfort to him, but hoping desperately that they would be.

Snape frowned slightly, then dipped his head away from her. After a few seconds, his whole body seemed to slump forwards, and he rested his hands on the wall in front of him, and leant against them. Hermione took a hesitant step forwards.

"No." Said Snape roughly.

But she ignored him, and leant against the wall facing him, her arm millimetres away from his right hand. He looked up at her then, and his eyes were back. His eyes. They were tired, sad and scared, but they were back to being his. She looked closely at his face, and now she could see the tightness in his jaw, the paleness of his cheeks, those ever present shadows under his eyes, but beyond that, she could see … more. A lot more. There was pain and dread and stress and fear and … hope. There, in the slight lift on one corner of his mouth, and the slight shine in his eye, there was hope, and it tore at her heart.

His hair fell forward and hid his expression.

Hermione watched her hand reach towards him. Her fingertips came into contact with the hair by his temple and he jerked away from her hand ever so slightly, as if he were suppressing a flinch. She paused for a second, then repositioned her hand and gently raked her fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. It was soft. She brushed two of her fingers against his cheek as she brought her hand back down, and had to suppress a shiver as she felt the delicate skin of his face, and a gentle dusting of stubble. He slowly looked up at her then, those endless eyes displaying a kaleidoscope of nameless emotion to her.

"What happened?"

He sighed then, a heavy, weary sigh.

"Where should I begin?"

"The beginning." She answered with a soft smile, and Snape's lips twitched in response.

"The beginning." He repeated, his face turning serious almost at once. "I was in my office, and then, I knew I needed to be elsewhere. I headed to the upper floors, almost as if in a trance … and then…"

Snape pushed himself roughly from the wall and staggered back to his armchair, staring desolately at the floor. Hermione followed.

"Everything … tightened… My stomach, my chest, my lungs. I couldn't draw a breath. And I ran, blindly, and pushed open the door…. And there was Draco, and his blood was everywhere."

He hunched forward then, gripping the roots of his hair tightly, and when he continued, his voice was raw.

"And your friend was by him, watching as Draco shook uncontrollably, clawing at his open wounds, soaked in his own blood…" He stopped talking then, and seemed to be having some difficulty breathing. Hermione moved to sit on his coffee table, so she could face him.

"I couldn't breathe," he continued a few moments later, "but then as I healed him, it eased a little, I wiped the blood from his face, and then it dissipated altogether when Draco and I reached the Hospital Wing."

Snape stopped talking again, and Hermione found she had no idea what to say to him.

"I'm still covered in his blood!" He shouted suddenly, standing and looking horrified.

She looked at his clothes and noticed a darker outline from the bottom of his robes to above where his knees were, and then more round his sleeves. She looked back up to his face, he was staring at the stains, his expression stricken and helpless in a way that hurt her to look at. She moved towards him and undid the buttons on his sleeve, pushing it back to reveal his white undershirt. It was still white. Snape let out a huff of air that sounded like it had been torn from his lungs. When she looked back up at him, the relief on his face was huge. She slowly undid the buttons on his other sleeve, then looked up at him, taking a reluctant step back. He quickly undid the rest of the buttons down his teaching robes and pulled them off himself in a rush. Then he was standing in front of her in his back trousers and white shirt. And she blushed. Because it was him and it that felt incredibly … intimate. He was staring at the spots of blood on his trousers and boots. She knelt by his feel and slowly pulled out her wand.

"May I?" She asked, and he looked nervous, but nodded, and for some reason it struck her as a huge show of trust from him.

"Tergeo." She whispered, and soon all traces of Malfoy's blood were gone.

Snape sighed and flashed her a grateful look that made her chest twinge.

Together they settled back onto the chairs, and Snape once again gripped the roots of his hair.

A silence settled.

"It was so close." Said Snape quietly, and then tightened his grip on his hair, beginning to pull fiercely at the strands as his hands convulsed, and his body started to tremble and a low sound rumbled at the back of his throat.

Hermione blinked hard against the sudden tears pooling in her eyes. She stood and pulled the table as close to her Professor as she could, then quickly seated herself once more and put her hands over Snape's. He jerked away from her initially but she tightened her grip and began to ease Snape's fingers off of his hair, wanting to lessen his physical pain, as she doubted she could do much else. Eventually he released his hair and instead transferred his crushing grip to her fingers, in a backwards hand hold, but he seemed incapable of moving his hands away from his head. She desperately wanted to see his face, but it seemed Snape had no intention to let her, and as his shaking increased, she instead pulled him closer, until their legs were pressed together, thigh to thigh, and she was holding his hands, holding his head against the front of her shoulder.

"No." Snape grunted, and made a weak attempt to pull away from her.

She didn't release him though, and as he gave in and slumped more against her, she bent forwards and kissed the top of his head, exactly in between their hands. It smelt like hair and him and her lips tingled almost painfully. She experienced a moment's panic, but found she didn't regret her actions; she'd do anything for this man, and even though his distress hurt her to witness, she was immeasurably relieved she had the real Snape back, her Snape.

Severus.

He'd gone very still, he was still trembling, but it was as if he was trying to force himself rigid, and forgotten to breathe.

But he hadn't pulled away.

And then he was leaning against her, almost as if he couldn't support himself anymore, his head pressing against her chest, his forearms by her stomach and his elbows resting on the tops of her thighs. It took her a minute to balance herself against this unexpected gain in weight, but then she bore it gladly and squeezed his fingers. It wasn't a particularly comfortable position for her, and she suspected it was worse for Snape, and it didn't feel poetic as it had the last time they were so close, but she was still glad she was there with him, offering some sort of comfort.

He'd nearly died.

She squeezed his fingers again as a couple of tears fell silently from her eyes. Snape must never, ever die.

And there they were, two silent figures as a war raged around them. A girl and her teacher. And he couldn't bear the weight of everything alone. Hermione looked down at his trembling, limp form, leaning against her, and she wished she could help him so much it felt like a physical weight inside her. She knew a fraction, a tiny percentage of what he was going through, and it physically hurt her. She closed her eyes as another tear slipped out.

She was his.

Hermione watched numbly as Snape slowly regained his composure, but she didn't move or release him, and he seemed in no hurry to pull away from her.

Finally he let out a long sigh that she felt echo through her body, and he gently released her hands, and silently pulled away from her, a sheepish look flashing across his harsh features before he looked away from her, and she had to suppress and very telling smile that threatened to overtake her face.

A somewhat awkward silence settled between them.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Binky!" She called suddenly, and the little house elf with the pointy ears from last year appeared before her, flashing her a startled look. "Binky please could we have two hot chocolates?" She asked, and the house elf looked to Snape, who nodded, a slightly bemused look on his face, and then she was gone.

She reappeared a couple of minutes later with two big drinks, topped with cream and a bowl of white marshmallows. Good. If anyone needed a pick me up right now it was Snape.

"Thank you."

Binky nodded politely and vanished once more.

They both topped their drinks with marshmallows and settled in a more companionable silence.

"Will Malfoy be okay?" She asked him softly, a little while later. She knew Snape was certainly fond of Malfoy, and would have been upset and angry about what had happened to him even if it hadn't threatened his own life.

"Don't pretend you care!" Snarled Snape, his black eyes flashing.

Hermione bit back an angry retort.

"Malfoy has always taken every opportunity to insult me and call me a mudblood," she said calmly, and Snape's head snapped towards her. "So no, I don't particularly care about him, but you do, and I certainly don't want him dead."

Snape nodded slightly, his eyes downcast.

"He should be fine." He said quietly.

"Good." She answered. "And you?"

He turned to look at her then, a frown on his face.

"Will you be ok, Professor?"

Snape seemed to pale, his sallow skin turning almost grey, and she watched a light band of sweat form on his forehead.

"I don't have a choice." He answered, his beautiful black eyes boring into hers and making her heart ache.

Because he didn't.

Hermione didn't remember falling asleep, she'd had a vague idea that she should stay, because Snape was sure to have nightmares after a day like that, but next thing she knew, she was in the girl's bathroom, and Moaning Myrtle and the Bloody Baron were waltzing. Then Harry came in, and the lights went off, so she raised her wand to cast a Lumos, but then Harry was covered in blood, writhing around as the skin on his arms, face, chest all started to peel back… She ran to him, but then he was Snape, and he was screaming at her, and she didn't know how to help him.

"DON'T PRETEND YOU CARE!" He shouted, as bloody poured from his body.

"BUT I DO CARE!" She yelled back. "I DO CARE, I DO CARE, I DO!"

And then he was griping her arms and shaking her.

"Miss Granger!"

"I DO CARE!" She sobbed.

"Miss Granger!"

"I DO!"

"Miss Granger!"

"I DO CARE ABOUT YOU!"

"I KNOW YOU DO!"

Her eyes snapped open.

She blinked.

Oh.

She was still in Snape's rooms.

His face was inches from hers, his eyes fixed onto hers.

His hands were griping her arms.

Oh.

She was crying.

Oh.

She turned her head away from him and he released her, settling himself on the coffee table. Hermione quickly conjured some tissues and did her best to calm herself.

Snape was with her, he wasn't bleeding, or shouting, he was with her, and he was ok.

"S-sorry." She gulped a few heartbeats later, glancing quickly over at him. He was watching her intently and gave a slight shrug in response. It was a very un-Snape like gesture. "I think I've c-cried all over you m-more than anyone else, sir."

The smallest of smirks appeared on his face then, and she smiled weakly in response.

"Here." He said awkwardly, handing her a glass of water.

A giggle escaped from her mouth.

"No hot chocolate?" She asked.

An anxious look crossed Snape's face.

"N- no sir, water is great thank you, I was just … just joking I suppose."

Joking with Snape. What on earth was going on with the world.

He cocked his head to one side slightly as he looked at her, and his tired eyes bored into hers.

"Have you been to sleep yet Professor?" She asked him timidly.

He frowned.

"No."

Hermione frowned.

"Why?"

"I was watching you sleep." He answered, his face which was so often closed off, was open, and honest.

"Oh." She felt herself blush. What was she supposed to say to that? "I … I'm sorry I fell asleep."

"You have nothing to apologise for." He answered, his voice brusque. "I let you in, I keep letting you in, I keep letting you … stay. This is my fault."

"What's your fault?" She whispered, hating the level of loathing in his voice, which she sure was entirely directed at himself.

"This." He said, gesturing in front of him. "You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You being … here."

"Is my being here a bad thing?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's not … it's… It's just not appropriate."

"Not appropriate?! This war isn't appropriate. People being killed, tortured, that's not appropriate. You being a teacher by day and a spy by night! That's not appropriate. A mad man with no nose trying to murder by best friend isn't appropriate!"

Snape had been staring at her intently throughout her outburst, a strange expression on his face.

And then he laughed.

It wasn't quite a proper laugh, but it was a definite step up from a chuckle.

It had deep sinister tones, almost musical notes of mirth and boyishness, with an undercurrent of something entirely male and powerful and it made everything inside her tighten. It was one hell of a sound.

He sent her a look that was somehow amused, annoyed and almost naughty all at once, before he let out a long sigh and stood up.

"To bed, Miss Granger. I shall escort you to Gryffindor tower."

"Can I stay?"

"No. No I think you've done enough for one night. Come."

She stood automatically, too wrong-footed by everything that had just happened to protest. What had Snape meant?

The man himself summoned a black garment that was somewhere between a robe and a dressing gown, pulling it quickly over himself before they left. Evidently black trousers and a white shirt felt naked to him too.

They walked slowly through the castle together, neither in any particular hurry. Hermione took every opportunity to look up at his face, and as they were nearing the 3rd floor, Snape looked back down at her, and to her surprise, his face softened as their eyes met, something deep in her heart simmered with pleasure and hope flared bright once again.

She tried not to allow herself to be sad when they reached the corridor leading to the portrait hole, and came to a stop. They looked at one another in silence, and she was sure she didn't imagine something kindling in those endless black eyes as she looked at them.

"Be careful." She said, her voice unusually low.

Snape nodded.

"You too." He replied, and her face spilt into a smile.

He made a movement as if to touch her arm, and though her heart leapt into her throat at the anticipation of contact, his hand flopped back down before it reached her, and they both stared at it, hanging limply by his side.

And then he was gone.

Here we go, chapter 30! I know this one's not as long as the last one but this is about the length I like the chapters to be, chapter 29 just refused to end ;)

A few people were a little confused about the implications of the scene with Dumbledore, so I've fiddled around with it and hopefully it's clearer now, so have a look if you weren't sure :)

Thanks for reading.

*Text in between asterisks* from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by J.K Rowling. New material by her about Umbridge is up on Pottermore and well worth a read. So much love for Jo.

mundy - thank you so much for another lovely review, I'm so pleased you liked the way the last chapter turned out ;) As you can see from this chapter, I'm still holding out on Snape's POV, but it will come I promise! Have a look at the Dumbledore bit now, I'd be interested to know if it's better now, and I actually wouldn't have known - you're English is excellent :) x

Guest - It's a very powerful moment! Thanks for reviewing, I'm so pleased you're enjoying it :)

vaila - I hope you had a lovely birthday! And thank you, I'm glad you could feel the tension ;) I will do my very best to keep them both in character, especially Severus, it's really important to me that they both remain believable. Ah, that would be telling ;) I've got their coming together moment very clearly in my head, I can't wait to write it, but as always, I don't want to rush it. Also very pleased you liked the Dumbledore scene - it's stupid really, but I felt like I was taking a huge risk including it! I guess you know about the Harry, Draco slicing part now ;) Thanks for all your feedback x

marzipan4 - Hi, I know you have an account but I couldn't pm you a response so I thought I'd include one here, if you'd rather I did't just let me know :) Thanks for reviewing, it's lovely to know you like my story and I'm so pleased you think I've done them both justice. I meant it to come across as if Dumbledore isn't going to interfere in anyway, not against their relationship, not to help their relationship, he's just going to let it take it's course, I'm sorry I didn't make that more obvious. I think I forget sometimes that it's in my head so I know exactly what I mean, but others don't ;)