Snape cleared the library with an "Everyone leave, but Potter" and they obeyed, though at wandpoint, and Sirius swore under his breath as he stalked from the room. The door closed with a soft click.

Harry rubbed his palms together, a nervous sweat making them damp. His heart thudded. The past few days had been insane. First Ron almost…exploded and then Molly had ranted about the Headmaster 'stealing' Hermione away from them –it seemed suspiciously as if from her personally— until Arthur explained about Snape and Hermione being soul-mates.

Soul-mates. Hermione and Snape.

He hadn't believed it, though he hadn't agreed with the offers sent to try to distract her. She was Hermione. Their friend, almost like a sister to him. She'd never doubted him. Ever. Had always stood by him. And if Snape was her soul-mate, then…he would stand with her too.

His gaze flicked over the way she clung to the thin Headmaster, desperate for something familiar, a strength she needed. There was no reluctance. And Snape –the minute Ron hit the floor— he'd turned to her and pulled her into his arms. Shielding her from the manic rush for Ron.

Sirius had said the bond wasn't final yet. That Hermione still had a form of escape…and the look in his godfather's eye in that minute had itched over Harry's skin. He didn't want to consider that Sirius might have offered—

He shuddered. No, his mind wasn't going there. But Snape had been glaring at him, sniped at him when Hermione was in the corner for those few minutes with Ron. Who else? Who else had followed the Prophet's disgusting call to use a war hero— two of them— in such a way? The thought turned his stomach.

And Hermione was staring at him again, her eyes too bright. There was something lost there. Did she think he'd turn on her like everyone else? He lifted his chin. No, he wasn't a impetuous boy anymore…well, not much of one.

"Honestly, three days out of Hogwarts and already in trouble." Harry gave her a wide grin. "Trying for my record, Hermione?"

She blinked and bit at a trembling lip. Then her nose wrinkled with a strained smile, her eyes little more than slits. Tears leaked. Fuck, she had thought he wasn't with her.

"You're a niffler for trouble, Harry Potter." She pulled away from Snape and he pressed a hand to cheek. He wiped away her tears. He held her gaze and something wordless passed between them. She twitched an easier smile.

Snape fixed on him. The same Snape. Pale, ugly and with a palpable glare. How was he someone like Hermione's soul-mate? "I will be over there." His finger pointed to the chair set beside the fire, but his gaze remained hard and edged with dislike. "Hermione seems to care what you think. I do not." His wand slid into his hand, his knuckles whitening around it. "I will be watching."

Hermione drew Harry to a nearby couch, still in Snape's line of sight, and pulled him down to sit. She wrapped a muffliato around them and tucked her wand away. Nervous fingers picked at her skirt. "I never wanted to marry Ron, you know."

"What did he say?"

Her shoulders hunched and something bleak moved through her eyes before they cleared. "Ron? Nothing I'd rather repeat."

Harry wiped a hand down his face and let out a low sigh. "He's been a dick. I wish I could blame it on his head exploding…but…" He gave her a half smile. "He's Ron. He's always been like this. He won't change." And he knew about the other witches...so Ron's proposal had stunned him. The idiot had never planned to be faithful. "He deserved to be punched."

She stared at him. "You're…you're not excusing him? Supporting him?"

There was a tremor to her voice that twisted an ache in his chest. Shit, he'd let her down so many times. Picked Ron over her…when she'd only wanted the best for him. "I'm not excusing, or supporting any of them." He shook his head. "It's…" He worked a smile across his mouth. "I'll hold your cloak while you punch the whole bleeding lot of them."

Hermione giggled…and her gaze flickered to Snape. Her expression softened. "I seem to have garnered a punching stupid wizards fan club."

Harry followed her to stare at Snape and the other man's mouth thinned. What made her look like that at an old, ugly…terrifying wizard? A wizard who had loved his mother for years. He winced. And how the hell did he bring that up? "You think this is right? This thing with Snape?"

She looked up, her lips pinched. "Headmaster Snape, Harry."

He closed his eyes. He just had to come out with it. "What about my mum, Hermione?"

She was silent for just that little bit too long and Harry cursed himself. Fuck. She…liked Snape. And here he was trying to ruin it for her. He felt like a complete shit…

"Harry?"

She patted his hand and he looked at her. There was a shadow in her eyes. Yes, she was well aware that his mum was a...a rival. He winced. Not a comfortable thought. "I'm sorry—"

"It's all right. We've talked about…her."

Snape, the private, reclusive man who'd shielded that knowledge for decades had already discussed it with Hermione? Harry stared at her. "Snape did?"

Her mouth pressed into that familiar white line.

"Fine. Headmaster Snape." He snorted but then sobered. She'd always defended Snape...and had been just that little bit –sod it— very smug when his loyalty to the Light was proven true. Was this –he— another cause to champion? "You know, Headmaster Snape is not a house-elf, Hermione."

She shuddered. "Gods forbid. I wouldn't want to get naked—"

Harry held up his hands, a half-choked sound breaking from him. "No. No information on that. Please. Never."

She sighed and shook her head. "Severus feels right in a way no one has before, Harry. No one." Her gaze was turned in…until she glared at him. Shit, he'd reacted to the use of Snape's name. "Yes, I call him Severus. I'd hardly call him Professor, or Headmaster…" Her smile was sharp, wicked and the back of Harry's neck itched. "Unless we're playing naughty detention—"

"Argh, Hermione!" Harry pressed his hands to his face, blocking out any and all thoughts, as his supposed friend's delighted laughter wrapped around him. A huff of his own laughter broke from him. "You're wicked and evil, just like him. You deserve each other."

Her smile was wide, her eyes bright, luminous. Merlin, she looked…happy. He'd seen her broken and stressed and panicked and amused, but never like this. There was a joy in her. It made his chest ache in envy.

"I think we do." She took his hand and squeezed it. Her head tilted, and that quickness of mind kick in. The one that'd saved him just as many times as the dark wizard still glaring at him from across the room. "You still haven't done anything about Draco, have you?"

Harry blinked. His heart was a stone in his chest and he didn't know how to breathe. She knew. He thought no one knew. Had he been obvious? He cursed himself. Of course he had. He was a bloody Gryffindor. "Hermione…"

"Harry." And there was the bossy eleven year old she never quite shook off. "I've known you were gay for a long time. And Draco Malfoy –though irritating and snobby and an all round git— is very pretty." She smirked at her friend. "Nice arse."

Harry shot a look to Snape and the wizard straightened in his chair. His gaze narrowed in suspicion. Harry wet his lips. "Should…should you be saying things like that?"

"Draco Malfoy is a peacock just like this father…and no doubt every Malfoy down through the centuries. He wants every witch and wizard to admire him."

Harry snatched his free hand through his hair. "He's a Malfoy…" And there was the problem Harry had wrestled with since Sixth Year. The man he wanted, the man he ached for was the enemy. Had been the enemy. The war was over. But still… "I shouldn't…"

She smiled at him. "He is trying to make amends. In that gittish way of his. Throwing money at the right and worthy causes and highlighting them though his patronage."

"I don't even know if he's—"

"He is."

Harry stared up at her, his mouth falling open as his heart jolted. "You're sure?" He cursed the hope in his voice that almost strangled him. "How…?"

"Trust me. I know." She released his hand and gave it a final pat. "Take the risk, Harry. You never know what that first kiss will get you."

First kiss. The one that had caught her… Harry groaned. Merlin's beard, how bloody selfish was he? Hermione's world was being torn up and turned over and she was concerned for him. "You do this. This is your time. I'm meant to be reassuring you that I will stand with you, whatever your relationship with Snape," he winced, "Headmaster Snape, and here you are supporting me. Again."

"Oh, Harry." He found himself with an armful of teary witch. "Thank you."

He frowned down at her. "What did I say?"

She grinned at him and patted his cheek. "Exactly the right thing."

His frown deepened. "Ah, good." His gaze jerked to Snape and the thinned mouth and burning darkness of the older wizard's eyes ran a chill though his bones. Fuck. Not good.

Harry eased back from her and held up his hands. "No offence, but I think your soul-mate is thinking of eviscerating me."

She snickered. "Yes, he's sweet like that."

Harry snorted and shook his head. "You are a very scary witch, Hermione Granger."

She stood and cancelled the spell surrounding them. "I am that."

Snape was on his feet and stalking towards her. He stood too close, looming over her and his gruff, "You're well, witch?" would have seemed threatening on another man. But this was Snape. Cool, unconcerned, sarcastic Snape. It was practically a sign of adoration.

And Hermione knew it, it seemed. She pressed her hand to his chest and smiled up at him. Something easy and warm. Something strangely intimate. Harry had to look away.

"We should be going." Hermione glanced around the gloomy library. "Not that we should've been here at all."

Snape huffed a breath. "I believe I pointed that out to several Order members in the short time you were preparing to punch Weasley."

Hermione winced, her face going beetroot. "I really have to stop punching people."

Snape brushed his thumb over her bruised knuckles and murmured a spell, the swollen, red skin easing down and fading. He leant forward, pushed back a strand of her hair, whispered something into her ear…and she squeaked. A strange, strained little sound. The flush to her skin ran down her neck to her chest and Harry turned on his heel, heading for the door. He didn't want to think what Snape was saying, what made his friend make that sound…

They were soul-mates and they talked about potions and magic and held hands. They didn't do anything else. Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Remus, this isn't right and you know it!"

Harry opened the door to find Sirius was right on the other side of it. He bit back a groan.

The werewolf ran a hand over his hair. "Merlin, for the very last time, Sirius. This is their decision. Minerva had no right to involve the Order."

"Mione has a choice—"

"And she has made it." Snape stood beside Harry, glaring at his old enemy. "Excuse me," Potter." The Headmaster urged him to the side, before his arm swung back and he punched Sirius in the face. The wizard stared, his eyes glazed, before he folded over and hit the floor with a thump. Snape's smooth voice was little more than a snarl, "That's for the letter, you piece of shit."

Remus blinked. "He…?"

"Offered his services, yes." Snape straightened and he lifted his chin. "Good evening, gentlemen."

He stalked back to Hermione, who grinned up at him. Snape shook his head and grabbed a fistful of floo powder, declaring for Hogwarts. He pulled Hermione into his arms. His final words caught, "Witch, you're becoming a bad influence on me…"

Harry snorted and stared down at his unconscious godfather. "Should we leave him there?"

Remus stepped over his friend and headed for the kitchen. "Yes, we should."

Yes, I accidentally went a bit Drarry *shuffles feet* I've tweaked the 2 sentences in chapters 1 and 2 to reflect this...

Also, have I mentioned I love reviews? :D