Dear Readers: Thank you for sticking with this. I apologize for taking a step back from this story for a while. But I'm back (for the most part) and will do the best I can to keep this story going. My writing and such will probably have shifted a little, so again I apologize for any and all inconsistencies. (But it's still a very strong SS/HG fic!) Tell me what I'm doing wrong. (I'm trying to switch it up a tiny bit…It's sort of a bad sign when an author gets tired of their own story, isn't it?) Thanks, again.

She had been ill for a week. The head of Gryffindor had forced her to Madame Pompfrey's, after she vomited in the middle of potions class. Severus had adored having her as his lab partner; it was solely Sev-Lily time. Time that Severus desperately grasped onto, nowadays. Clacking against the cold stone floor, Severus' footsteps echoed throughout the deserted floor. Being that it was dinner, Severus had snuck a piece of Lily's favorite pie out of the Great Hall. His heart slammed against his chest; he hoped she'd be awake this time…

SS

In the large, dark brown armchair, Hermione sat, curled up. The Daily Prophet in her lap had been marked with red pen, over and over. Snape had been gone for a week, at least. Her heart ascended to a heavy beating in her ears; she crumpled the ratty paper in her hands. Pushing herself off the chair, she angrily paced the length of the sitting room. Outside the charmed window, golden, red, neon yellow leaves rustled on the ground. September was turning into October fast.

Since she had been easing off the experimental potions, Hermione's arm had healed. She felt, more or less, sane. Her friends were gone. Her parents were off in some blasted land; they would never remember her. Due to these predicaments, Snape had stiffly offered the guest room in his quarters to be hers for an indeterminate amount of time. Most likely, of course, with the stubborn prodding of McGonagall, Hermione thought. And though they had been in close proximity for a few months, now, they remained as cold as ever. Hermione spent time reading and helping restore the castle's ruins. Snape kept disappearing; it frustrated her beyond reasoning.

Still, it was odd to have been offered a place in Snape's quarters, his private life. Sure, it was understandable when there were potions and injuries and the war. But now? Injuries were healing, healing. Hermione kicked the leg of the dusty, elegant couch.
"Defacing my property, Granger?" The drawl sent her whirling around. She caught her foot on the corner of the couch and fell forward.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" Snape strode across the room, unbuttoning his cloak on the way. Hermione leapt up.

"I'm fine--" she waved his hand away.

"As you wish," Snape said, indifferently.

Hermione straightened her sweater; courageous curiosity surged through her. "So, sir, where were you?"

"Excuse me?" Snape inquired, neatly hanging his cloak in a side closet. He wore black, semi-formal traveling robes.
"Well, s-sir, you leave late at night and don't return for days on end. Don't you find it a bit odd to have a guest and not be present? And I'm stuck here doing nothing while you're--"

"I'm not here to entertain you, Ms. Ganger. And no one said you had to stay here," Snape said, speaking to the closet, as he hung his cloak.

"Then why even offer a room to me, sir? I feel like a damned house keeper!"

"Severus. Don't use that bloody 'sir' title with me. I am not your professor. If it makes you so uncomfortable, just use 'Mr.,' something; anything but 'sir.' I despise that."

"Fine, Mr. Snape," at that, Snape's shoulders seemed to slump and inkling, "I just—worried--"

"No one's asking you to worry!" Snape boomed, still speaking to the closet. Hermione stepped back and traced the pattern on the couch's fabric.

"I just—Sorry. Sorry. Look. It's weird being here, in the Snape quarters, without…Snape. I feel uncomfortable burdening you anymore, now that I am well. I'm sorry I can't give you back your summer months. But, look, I've been looking for a place to rent in the Prophet. I found something near Diagon Alley. I'm going to put an offer in--"

"And how exactly are you going to pay for that, Ms. Ganger?"

"I'll get a job; it won't be too much. I have a fair account at--"

"Living on your own. You really think you can? You're, what, eighteen?"

"Almost nineteen, sir—Mr. Snape--"

"What about security? Radicals are still around—It's not a safe place for someone like you--"

"Like what?" Hermione stepped closer to the man who was still speaking to the closet.
"For Merlin's sake, Ms. Ganger, you're a young woman. Bright. But young. Living on your own would be risky--"

"I can very damned well take care of myself. I don't need some bitter old wizard telling me how the world works--"

"You don't know how it works—The world is not made of Gryffindors. There are cruel people out there who will strip you of everything--" Snape said, turning around in a frustrated air. But the door had already slammed.

"It was nice to come home to another face…" Snape said, softer than the sound of leaves. Walking over to the chair she had been sitting in, Severus sat down. It was still warm. He looked at the paper on the floor. A large red circle encompassed a renting address.

HG

"This young, inexperienced woman will be out of your hair tomorrow, Sev—er--us." Hermione said as she opened the door to the main room. He wasn't there. She snorted. Taking off her jacket and throwing it on the couch, Hermione walked towards his sleeping quarters. A dim light flickered on the other side. She opted not to knock; he'd frustrated her enough. She hated worrying about him, she detested being stuck in the quarters; she hated the feelings she didn't understand; she hated the coolness between them. She made a face at the door and turned on her heel. Time to pack, she thought.

SS

Severus was already dressed before dawn. Sitting stiffly, primly, in the brown armchair, he quietly sipped morning tea. Thirty minutes into his breakfast, Hermione walked out, a moving trunk in tow.
"Up and about, are you?" Hermione said stiffly, straightening her stance.
Severus stood up, cleared his throat, and took two steps forward. "Hermione, I am aware you do not want to stay here. I understand you have questions; I cannot answer them. But I ask you to stay here. If nothing else, it is safe. None of us know what kind of radicals are still out there. The world knows your face. If you return to reality, who knows what might happen. I implore you, then, to be patient--"

"Patience is awful. You know that, Snape. I want to do something extraordinary with my life. I want to live. I want--"

"Hermione," Snape said just as coolly as before. He grabbed her arms; his eyes were dark, "I implore you to stay where you are safe, right now. If anything happened to you--"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What? If anything happened to me, what?"

"It would be the world's loss," Snape's response was calculated, calm, unwavering. Hermione shook out of his grip.

"Not good enough."

"Excuse me?" Snape challenged.

"Not good enough. Sir, I thought…S-Severus, I thought--" she raked a hand through her hair. "Being around here, being invited to stay. You, now, telling me what's safe, what's not--"

"If I am guilty for another death--"

"Who says I'm going to die?!" Hermione's voice raised.

"It's always a possibility, with anyone."

"Look, I want freedom to live--"

"You are free--"

"You're telling me to stay here and be a good girl! I will do no such thing! It's awful to be here worrying and--"

"I told you, no one told you to worry about anything! I will leave as I please; I have my own affairs to attend--"
"I'm an adult. I should be able to leave—I can take care of myself. Stop telling me--" Hermione shivered.

"What you don't want to hear? That life isn't sunny and cushioned? Too bad--" Both their voices were rising at a rapid rate. "Why do you worry? There's nothing--"

"Oh, sod off Severus! There are a million reasons to worry. What if you got yourself into a situation and couldn't get out? I wouldn't know—I'd be waiting here for ages. In this…this stupid dungeon…Waiting for some fucking scrap of news! I know the dangers of the world--"

"Then why are you throwing yourself into them?!" Severus boomed.

"Because—because—It's better than here. I felt—I did—I do—I--" tears streamed down Hermione's face. "Damn it." She whipped them away, roughly.

"If I didn't come back, would you be sad?" Snape asked, noticeably more gentle.

"Yes…no…I don't know. Of course I would be—It's just, I--"

"Hermione…Whatever you're feeling is only because I was there for you at a time when no one else was. You feel disconnected from anything, so you're desperate to connect with anything--"
"Don't tell me what I'm feeling--"

"I don't want you to hurt yourself. You're not the only one who's broken--"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione mumbled, congested. She headed for the door. Snape opened his mouth, but she was too quick. He unclenched his fist, revealing a key. "Just in case you had nowhere else to go, Hermione…" he said to the door.