I'm sorry! It's been so long since I last updated. I feel horrible. I've been so busy and whenever I've had the time to write, I hadn't been able to come up with anything I remotely liked. But here, a hell of a lot later than I intended, is the next chapter. I've completely finished school now, so hopefully I will be able to write a lot more. Here's hoping.
Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure we've established that this isn't mine.
Also, I'm sorry this chapter is short, but I felt it should stop where it did.
Severus returned to his quarters, sighing as he threw himself down on his bed. The year was finally over, and the students had gone home on the train that morning. He was relieved in more ways than one. Not only did it mean he got away from the incessant chatter of annoying students, it also meant he didn't have to watch over Hermione. It had been painful, all year, seeing her as a twelve year old. He wanted the girl he knew, the seventeen year old version of Hermione.
As he thought over the last few weeks, he let out a groan. He couldn't believe how reckless the girl had been, going with Potter and Weasley to save the Philosopher's Stone. Severus had overheard the trio planning to go through the trapdoor, and he knew he had no hope of stopping them. Not only were they hot-headed Gryffindors, who wouldn't stop anyway, he also knew they didn't trust him. Nonetheless, when they went down the trapdoor, he followed, waiting for any opportunity to help. Much to his surprise, they did fairly well, even though he couldn't help rolling his eyes as Potter, and particularly Weasley, got stuck at the Devil's Snare. His moment came at the giant chess board. Hermione had gone through to the next room with Potter, leaving Weasley lying unconscious amongst the ruins of the giant chess pieces.
Hermione would return soon, he was sure of it. He himself had set up the riddle in the next room, and he was confident that Hermione could solve it. She was intelligent enough. Sure enough, a few minutes later, she had returned. She looked worried, and was constantly looking back at the door which she had come through. She seemed to shake herself before running over to the Weasley boy. As Severus watched, Hermione stood over the boy, clenching and unclenching her hands. It was clear she was unsure what to do. Severus stepped out of the shadows.
"Miss Granger," he intoned softly, and Hermione looked up, startled. She glanced back towards the door once again – a move that did not go unnoticed by Severus. She opened her mouth to speak, but Severus held up a hand to silence her. "I am aware you believe me to be after the Stone. I assure you Miss Granger, this is not the case."
Hermione stared at him, a look of pure confusion on her face. "Professor Snape… But who..?" She gestured to the door. "Harry's in there. If you aren't after the Stone, who is?"
Severus knew the answer, but he evaded the question. After all, Potter would tell her and Weasley soon enough. "Potter will be fine. Dumbledore is on his way." He turned his attention to the unconscious boy lying on the ground before him. He pointed his wand at him, but paused, looking at Hermione.
"Miss Granger, I would appreciate it if you did not inform your friends of my involvement here tonight." She looked confused, but much to his relief, she nodded. Severus looked back down at Weasley, murmuring, "Enervate."
As Weasley began to stir, Severus turned on his heel and left the room, knowing Hermione would be able to get them out from there.
The summer passed, and all too soon, much too soon for Severus' liking, the students were back, complete with a new set of first years. On the bright side, Hermione was rapidly approaching her thirteenth birthday. He had only three years to wait. He was confident that she must trust him even a little, what with the Quidditch incident – Potter had told Weasley and Hermione that it was Quirrell who was trying to kill the boy, not him – and how he had assisted her down the trapdoor.
Severus sat back in his seat in the Great Hall, waiting for the Sorting to commence. Covertly, his eyes sought out Hermione, who was sitting next to Seamus Finnegan. He frowned, wondering where Potter and Weasley were. Casting his mind back to twenty years ago, he tried to think if they had been late then. He remembered that they had been, although he could not quite remember why.
The Sorting Ceremony began, and Severus paid little attention to it, only glancing up when he heard a new Slytherin being sorted. He liked to know who he got in his house, even if he never wound up liking them.
A movement outside caught his eye, and he turned his gaze on the window in question. Ah, of course. Potter and Weasley. Discreetly, he stood up and left the Hall, nodding to Dumbledore as he went past.
He made his way out to where the two boys were standing; just catching what was to be the end of their conversation.
"… maybe he's left! I mean, everyone hates him."
"Or maybe," drawled Severus, "He's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
At once, the boys launched into an explanation, each one cutting across the other to tell the story.
"Well, you see..."
"… We couldn't get through the barrier –"
"- at the station –"
"- missed the train…"
Severus opened his mouth to speak, to shut them up, but a sudden thought stopped him in his tracks. He remembered. They couldn't get through the barrier. The Malfoy's elf. The Chamber of Secrets. This was the year of the basilisk. This was the year Hermione would get Petrified.