Hermione woke up early next morning, and was treated to a sleeping Severus, who, to her great surprise, was smiling. She sled slowly and quietly from his grip, so as not to wake him. Dear,who would've guessed he could look so peaceful…
She decided not to waste her time and to start working on her correspondances. She felt quite guilty not having taken some time to write to Harry or Ron, who must've been sulking for the last two weeks. Harry had written in his last letter that he had been in a bad mood for the last few days, and even though Harry had tried to explain again, and again, and again, that Hermione had been busy with Snape, Ron remained surly and was muttering about why she wouldn't do them all a favour and let him die in his bed if that was what Snape really wanted.
Harry and Ron were both studying Defense against the Dark Arts in a specialised school in Romania, sharing a room at Charlie's place. Hermione shuddered at the thought of three men living alone with no female presence to remind them about a wonderous notion passing under the name of hygiene . Last time she had come to visit, just before Snape's attempt to kill himself, she had found mounds of dishes levitating over the full sink and Ron wondering if they should buy some more. Pitying them, Hermione cast a cleaning spell on them and magicked them to their respective place only to have Ron telling her in an exasperated tone that he had been just about to do it and that it wasn't her job to do their chores, as she was the guest. Hermione had been about to throw him a snappy retort when Charlie had caused a diversion by apparating in the house with his shirt on fire. Later that night, after she had applied murtlap essence on Charlie's burns, Hermione was granted yet another one of Ron's annoying speech about why Snape shouldn't be considered as a war hero, which started to annoy even Harry, who had heard it at least two dozen times ever since Ron got wind of it by his father from the ministry.
Sometimes, Hermione asked herself when Ron would grow up… Or whether he even would… She was happy about Harry starting to grow respectful about Snape after all both had been through, and setting aside old stereotypes inherited from his father since he learnt about his mother's and Snape's friendship. This proof of his maturity made Hermione feel proud about him, which was the least she could say about Ron. She once caught herself thinking why on earth she had remained friends with him all along. She sheepishly thought about all the good times she had spent with Ron, about his social background, his bravery and his sense of humor. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes… She knew that even though Ron was one of her best friends, he wouldn't handle gracefully the news about Snape and her. However, she didn't want him to feel left out in case she only told Harry, or to lie to him by telling him that her life was as dull as his ex-pet rat Scabbers. What if you only wrote to Harry and ask him not to tell Ron ? He'd understand, a nasty little voice whispered in her head. What was wrong with telling Ron only the official version of the facts? He deserves the truth? He can't handle the truth!
Hermione withdrew a piece of parchment from the desk in her room and settled herself comfortably on the couch after lighting a fire. She had taken one of her books for support, and after sucking the tip of her quill, she carefully opened her tiny ink bottle and dipped the quill in it.
Dear Harry,
Sorry I didn't write for long. I've been very occupied for weeks, as you probably figured it out if you've heard the latest news by Dumbledore or Lupin. If you haven't, Snape has committed suicide and was only just saved by MacGonagall and Dumbledore, but he's still weak, and I've been chosen to take care of him during the next few weeks. He had poisoned himself with a draught of his invention, which makes your body grow older and older, and even if he was rescued from death, the potion is still effective. He's doomed, Harry, and the worst is that nothing, no potion whatsoever could save him. He's been planning this for weeks, and was planning to make another attempt as soon as possible. Fortunately, I've 

figured out how to cure him, which brings me to telling you something I don't want you to tell Ron. Whatever you do, DO NOT TELL RON. If he's anywhere near you, just figure out something, whatever it takes to put him off trail. Destroy this letter afterwards; you never know with Ron.
Harry, I've been bursting to tell somebody, anybody, about a little something. Well, I'll try to get to the point. I have feelings for Severus, and I guess you understand what I 'm talking about. Nothing serious, no … Well, you know, sex… It's just Platonic love, and I think that's how it's going to stay. I feel so happy with him, and I know what you're thinking, but everything's alright.
This brings me to write about the cure. The only way for him to get better is to make him act young. He has bad memories about his youth, so it's not going to be easy, so I'll try my best for him to enjoy himself.
I hope you three boys are okay, and remember to clean up the house every month or so.
Love,
Hermione
She read her letter again in order to check her spelling and was quite satisfied with herself. She yawned, walked to the chimney and ordered for some breakfast. When she turned back to the couch, she found that her letter was missing.
"Platonic love. Feelings. My , my, how intimate you are with the Potter boy." Severus' soft voice came from a dark corner of the room. Hermione gasped.
"I have the right to write whatever I want to my friends. Give this letter back."
"Not where I'm concerned, no." Snape looked at her with a mocking smile on his face. "Come and get it, if you wish so, but I won't let you have it back", he said sleekly.
Hermione was furious. She shot her wand at him and shouted "Accio letter!" and caught the letter in mid-air. She cast hastily a clothing charm and ran out of the room; hurrying up the dungeon's stairs and to the owlery. She sped up the steep stairs and realized Snape was following her, shouting after her. He was dressed in his potion master's robes, which were billowing behind him. He had trouble catching his breath, which worried Hermione. But this was not about Snape's privacy, but about Hermione's. She had to show him that she deserved as much respect as him, and sending this letter would be a perfect lesson Snape had to be taught at least once in his life.
She arrived at the windowless tower, caught the nearest owl and told him shakily "bring this to Harry, he's in Romania!" But just as the owl was about to take off, a white hand grabbed it by the talons. Snape was as pale as death, and the owl's pecks and scratches caused him to let go off it. He stammered "no", and staggered to one of the owl-free shelf before fainting.
Hermione panicked; dark blood was starting to drip from Snape's mouth and he was slightly trembling. A small boy had just come to send an early letter to his parents, and was shocked at the sight of Snape, seemingly dead, and Hermione, who had tears pouring from her eyes.
"Go fetch Madam Pomfrey, anyone, run, RUN!"
He didn't need telling twice, and next second he had left the tower, his letter laying forgotten on the floor.
Hermione went to Snape's side and held his hand. "Everything's going to be be alright Severus, hang on, please, just hang on…"
She sobbed.