Severus was walking out of the Great Hall after dinner when he saw them; the headmistress and Hermione were walking in the direction of McGonagall's office, where they would undoubtedly be scheming yet again. He frowned; the headmistress seemed to think almost too highly of Hermione's ideas, and had been talking with her daily in her office for the entire week since Rookwood's attack on Malfoy Manor. It wasn't that Severus thought Hermione and her ideas weren't fitting for McGonagall's inspection or appreciation, it was that a slight jealousy had overcome him. Yes, he and the headmistress did have some interesting history, what with her trusting him all of his years as the potions professor and then practically chasing him from the school when he was headmaster and Potter and his friends had returned. But since the battle of Hogwarts, after which he was proven innocent, she had begun trusting him completely again.

Along with his jealousy—which he was denying and in his own mind referring to as "the theft of trust that was rightfully his"—he was more and more worried for Hermione with each passing day. Yes, she was at Hogwarts, practically the safest place for her to be, but while she was overly concerned with his being in supposed danger, she was constantly disregarding her own safety. Severus wasn't being overcautious; it only made sense that Rookwood would want to hurt Hermione for saving him, and what if he found out that Severus had feelings for the young woman? Even a lunatic would possess enough brains to realize that hurting Hermione would be the best way to hurt Severus.

Severus' fear for Hermione's safety was intensified daily for two reasons. On one hand, there was the simple explanation that as more time elapsed—no matter how few days it had actually been—he became increasingly paranoid about Rookwood's imminent attack on the school. And on the other, he barely got any sleep at night because he was constantly waking, chest heaving, sweat beading on his face and soaking his clothes, having escaped a dream of Hermione's terrible death only for the moment, because as soon as he closed his eyes the scene would shift. Each dream was worse than the one before it, and her death was always gruesome and horribly painful for her. Severus was haunted by his nightmares by day, especially those that had taken place in the school; he would see Hermione in the very place the dream had taken place and panic that Rookwood might actually be there somehow and kill her right then.

In spite of his fervent warnings that he gave her every time they were alone, she only seemed more careless and unconcerned than before. In truth, it was because he gave his warnings so that she got the impression that he wanted everyone at the school to be more careful, and was loath to let on how much danger she was really in. It wasn't because he thought it would frighten her, but rather that he knew she would only laugh and roll her eyes, because she was so convinced that it was he in mortal peril and not her. But though he thought he was doing an excellent job of hiding the truth from her, she was beginning to catch on.

Hermione noticed that while Severus was often lacking in expressing why, he would tense and look momentarily panicked at least twice a day when he saw her. Try as she might to find a pattern in where she was when he did this, she failed and eventually decided that something was amiss. Upon closer observation, she found that he was in fact even more stiff and unkind than usual, which she only found annoying at first, but gradually became worried about. She knew him well enough to correctly guess that if anything, he was completely unworried about his own life being in danger and was worried about that of another. She eventually came to the conclusion that he seemed to be more concerned about her than anyone else, and puzzled over why.

It was by her careful pondering of his behavior that she realized the same thing Severus had. She was however, if anything, quite the opposite of afraid. Let him come, she thought. If Rookwood attacked her first, Severus would have time to attack him when he wasn't paying attention. She was in fact relieved by her revelation, though she never let on that she had come to such a conclusion, knowing that Severus' worry for her would only increase tenfold.

Meanwhile, Severus had yet another nightmare one night, this one where he relived using legilimency on Potter and remembered on of the boy's memories that he had come across and experienced as if it were his own; Lily's death. Of course, all that Potter had been able to recall was a great flash of green light and the voice of the dark lord shouting something as his mother screamed, but it was enough to make Severus wake with a jolt, sitting up in his bed and running his hands over his face. Yet again, his chest was heaving, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and he was shaking violently. He lay back down but did not close his eyes, knowing that another nightmare would only ensue if he did.

He did not sleep the rest of the night, terrified of the dreams that plagued him, and whether they were of the death of Lily or Hermione was no matter; each was just as terrible as the other. He would not lose Hermione as he had lost Hermione. One dark wizard had taken the only woman he loved years before, and he would not allow it to happen again. At the thought of Lily, he had a pang of shame; she was the first woman he ever loved and he had sworn to love her until the end. Was it not wrong then to let her go and allow himself to love Hermione instead?

A nagging voice in the back of his mind insisted that Lily had never loved him that way, and that she would have wanted him to be happy and move on. But he was convinced that by loving Hermione, he was being unfaithful to Lily. Even if he had decided to finally be selfish for once and do something for himself by loving Hermione, he could not simply disregard his oath to Lily after she had passed away that he would never love another. It had been terribly easy for him to ignore other women when comparing them to Lily over the years after her death, especially since he was surrounded only by students and McGonagall and Pomona, none of whom he had never felt particularly fond of. But now, with Hermione, it was completely different. It was so much easier simply to love her and not deny himself what he knew she could give. He spent the rest of the night mulling over whether or not he was being disloyal to Lily and by morning he had decided to compare Hermione to Lily, as he had all of the other women before her, and see what he found.

Hermione woke and found a mug of steaming tea on her bedside table waiting for her. She raised her eyebrows at Crookshanks, who was sitting on the end of her bed, licking his paw. He gazed at her for a moment and went back to cleaning himself, which she took to mean that he wasn't going to tell her who had brought the drink. She drank it and after bathing dressed and got ready for the day. She was quite sure that Kreacher was still in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but then who had brought the tea? Surely it had been another house elf, one of those which worked there at the school?

Unsure but too tired to ponder it, she left her rooms and walked to the Great Hall. Severus walked behind her, along with several other staff members. When she sat down beside him at the staff table in the Great Hall, the headmistress rose from her seat and came to stand beside Hermione, who looked up expectantly. "Is something the matter?" the younger witch asked. Of course, there was the obvious answer that a mad dark wizard was roaming the country, but the older woman seemed to understand that her question was not about Rookwood.

McGonagall reached over and put a finger under Hermione's chin, lifting it and looking down into her face. Hermione gazed back at the headmistress, wondering what she could possibly be doing. "Those bags under your eyes are getting darker and darker, looking worse every day. Have you been sleeping quite well?"

Severus was watching the two and was quite relieved to find that the headmistress had taken notice of Hermione's health for once. It seemed he was the only one to truly notice her health and behavior changes, but he assumed it was because he was watching her so closely.

The headmistress took her hand away and Hermione shrugged. She looked quite hesitant to speak, but said quietly, "I haven't been getting much sleep at all, actually. See, I've had . . ." she paused, eyes darting to Severus and then back to McGonagall, "I've been having . . . nightmares."

The headmistress nodded, not looking the least bit surprised. Severus and Hermione were both startled when she turned to him and said, "I'm sure you have a potion that will induce a deep, restful, dreamless sleep?"

Severus nodded and McGonagall returned to her own seat. He felt pleased; his giving Hermione a potion would allow him to observe and compare her to Lily. In the same moment Hermione was unhappy with the idea of having a moment alone with Severus, sure that he would warn her yet again about being cautious.

They had classes all day and it wasn't until those were over that Hermione was left alone for a few minutes. Even then, she was too busy grading homework to go to the potions classroom and retrieve her potion, and she was sure Severus would be there. She was perfectly capable of reading the labels on his jars and flasks and there was no need for him to actually give her the potion, as she was aware of which one it would be. If only she could sneak in when he wasn't there . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the open door, announcing their presence in the room. She looked up from the parchment on her desk and her heart seemed to sink and soar at the same time, which, as could only make sense, caused her to feel as if it were being ripped in two.

Severus walked up and set his hands on the edge of her desk, leaning against them. He set a phial of dark purple liquid on the desk and didn't lift his gaze from it. She watched his face with a somewhat sour expression, though hopeful and anticipating the use of the potion he had brought her; a good night's sleep would make her feel so much better. Severus knew that she was already completely aware of how to use the potion, but he said, "Three drops in your tea before you sleep will do."

His gaze wasn't on her face, but she rolled her eyes anyway. At last he looked up. She noticed that he was watching her strangely. She waited; his delivery of a serious warning should be any moment now . . .

Severus searched her face. He was taken aback by the similarities between her and Lily in appearance. Of course, she did not have Lily's eyes, but her eyes shone with the same amount of love and caring concern that Lily's had. Her hair wasn't red, but though Lily's had never been bushy when she was younger, now Hermione's curls had tamed themselves and become smooth and full like Lily's had been. Their faces were the same shape, their skin nearly the same exact shade, if he was recalling Lily's appearance correctly. He compared their personalities and again found more than he had expected to that could link the two women together.

But there was more; in his younger years, only the sight of Lily could make his heart race and his lips twitch upward. Only Lily had been able to make him chuckle or truly laugh, and only she had ever been able to bring out who he really was; no one else could see past his hard exterior. And now Hermione was doing all those things that only Lily had done in the past. At the sight of the young transfiguration teacher, Severus' heart always reacted, picking up its pace or skipping a beat or two. Now Hermione was the only person alive who could somehow manage to say something that made a genuine laugh rise in his throat. And Hermione seemed to see straight past the cold stares, the malicious glaring, and the pale, cruel, face he wore every day.

Hermione watched his eyes with interest. They were dark brown again, but they were searching. For what, though, she could not decide. And then in his eyes there came a shaken look. To Hermione, it looked as if Severus was seeing something for the first time, but as he was staring at her face, she dismissed this idea. However, he was indeed seeing her as if for the first time. Having come to realize just how much like Lily Hermione was, Severus was able to rest. Lily would have wanted him to be happy, to let her go. He felt a surge of relief and release when he came to this conclusion. He rose, no longer leaning on his hands or the desk, and stepped back.

Hermione sensed that he was about to turn and leave, but then something seemed to stop him and he looked at her again. "Yes?" she asked.

He sat down at the student's desk nearest hers, furthering her surprise.

Her lips twitched because she thought he looked quite funny sitting behind a student's desk while she was behind the teacher's.

"Nightmares?" he asked.

She frowned, silently inquiring why he was asking, but nodded.

"Every night?"

She nodded again.

"Are they always the same?" he asked.

She nodded a third time.

He stared into her eyes for a few moments before asking, though his words came as more of a statement, "They are about me?"

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze but didn't shake her head.

"I am flattered," he said, his words accompanied by a humorless laugh before he finished, "but you oughtn't to lose sleep over me."

Her eyes flashed back to his face and she seemed mildly annoyed with him.

"Well?" he asked.

She frowned. "Well what?"

"What is it that I do in these dreams that frightens you so and deprives you of sleep? They are frightening?"

She nodded to answer his second question and hesitantly followed by answering the first. "It's not what you do, it's what . . ." she stopped, obviously not willing to carry on.

"Rookwood," he stated matter-of-factly.

She sighed but nodded.

"What does he do to me?" Severus asked, though Hermione was sure he already knew what her answer would be.

"He kills you," she whispered. "Over and over again. Every time I close my eyes it's there. I hardly ever sleep anymore."

Severus let his chest heave as he sighed. "Nothing will happen to me."

She shook her head. "Anything could happen. That's why I'm so worried-"

"No. You shouldn't be worrying about anyone but yourself," he cut in. Seeing the look on her face, he said, "the students are not his concern, nor have they done anything to deserve his vengeance."

"Which is why you're in danger," Hermione pointed out, sounding exasperated.

"I am not the one who lies in the most danger," he said quietly.

She stared at him for a moment. She had already come to the realization that Rookwood would probably want to kill her, but she still felt that Severus was in greater danger than her. Severus could see in her eyes that she knew. "You saved me; because of you, I am alive and not maimed by the dark mark as he is. It only makes sense, then, that he will come for you before me."

Hermione only shrugged. This infuriated him. Had she no regard for her own safety at all? Running his hands over his face, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Hermione," he said, and though he sounded exasperated, his tone was far from harsh and it sent chills down her spine. He continued, "Please, if for no other reason, be more cautious, for me?"

Hermione turned to look back at the homework stacked on her desk. She sighed, irritated, but after a moment she nodded. "For you," she said quietly, still quite obviously annoyed.

She was taken off guard when he changed the subject abruptly. "What are you and Minerva planning?"

Hermione raised her head to look at him, raising her eyebrows. Sighing in resignation, she said, "We're going to Saint Mungo's tomorrow to see if Narcissa will tell us anything. The others"—Severus knew she meant the Ministry workers and aurors, including Harry and Ron—"stopped trying after two days because it seems hopeless, but I'm sure she'll open up eventually. She's the only way we can know what really happened."

"How are they?" Severus asked.

Hermione was surprised that he had asked, but said, "Narcissa is fully recovered—physically. She's still very jumpy and of course, getting over the death of a spouse isn't exactly a thing that happens in the first week after their passing."

"And Draco?"

Hermione bit her lip, taking a deep breath before she said, "He's no better than he was when they found him at the manor. The healers don't think he'll survive much longer."

With a pang, Hermione found herself remembering the phoenix tears in her bag, which the headmistress had actually advised her not to take to the hospital. However, she had the sudden strong desire to take them with her.

Severus had stood to leave and he gave Hermione one last, long, meaningful look before he left the classroom. She didn't go back to the homework, but put it away and hurried to the headmistress' office to share the idea that had just sprung up in her mind.

"Hermione," McGonagall was saying a while later, "bribery is hardly something I would like to use, and in these circumstances . . ."

"But she'll do it," Hermione insisted, "She'll tell us what we ask if I just-"

"I don't believe this is a good idea," McGonagall cut in.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Please. I know it sounds terrible. But think over Narcissa's past. A mother's love knows no bounds, and she's hardly any different. It's because of Draco that she lied to Voldemort. It's because of Draco that she and Lucius didn't fight in the battle here, because they were looking for their son. She might not have made the smartest decisions most of the time, but she would do anything for him. And right now he's dying. I'm sure she'll do anything in her power to heal him. And I was planning on it anyways . . ." she trailed off, waiting for the headmistress' reply.

McGonagall was surprised. "You think he is worthy?"

Hermione nodded.

"You are willing to waste—no, use—the tears to heal him?"

Hermione nodded again, and without hesitation.

"Why?"

"I've never liked him much at all," Hermione reasoned quietly, "but no one but the dark lord and his truest followers deserved to die like that. And Draco didn't exactly have a choice."

The headmistress raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. "You're sure about this?"

Hermione nodded. "Positive."

Then the older witch nodded and said, "All right. You have my permission."

Hermione thanked her and turned to leave. She had her hand on the door before McGonagall said, "Oh, and Hermione," causing her to turn back. The headmistress smiled, and added with a knowing look in her eyes, "Take Severus along with you. He seems a bit worried for you lately and I'm sure he thinks himself the only wizard worthy to guard you."

Hermione stood, frozen, gazing at the headmistress in wonder for several moments. They simply looked into each other's eyes for a while, and though their lips were silent, both were thinking. Hermione eventually came from her trance, nodding once and smiling uncertainly before it faded. "Y- you," she began, but McGonagall spoke before she could finish her question.

She spoke very quietly and very solemnly. "I have known for a while, dear."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, wondering what came next, not having a clue as to what she ought to say now. Then, as if they had a mind of their own, her lips began to work again. "And what do you think of . . .?"

"I don't think you should worry over it," the headmistress said.

Hermione was confused. She was too baffled for a moment to panic because McGonagall knew that she and Severus loved one another. "Worry over it?"

McGonagall looked almost amused. "Severus is merely returning your care for him when he was ill by wanting to protect you. Do not worry over it; once Rookwood is caught and sent to Azkaban, he will no longer feel that he is bound to keep you safe."

Hermione nodded slowly. She had been positive that the headmistress knew about her and Severus, but now . . .

"I don't think I'll worry over it," she said after a short time of silence. Then, cocking her head and looking across the room to the older witch, she asked timidly, "Is—is there anything else?"

McGonagall looked bemused. "Well no, I don't think so."

"You simply think I oughtn't to worry over it. Over . . . him?" she asked.

"I do think that is all, Hermione," McGonagall said with a kind smile, dismissing her. She was obviously confused and concerned about Hermione's asking such things.

Hermione left the office and walked down the hall, relieved. For one terrible, frightening moment, she had thought the headmistress knew that Severus loved her and that she loved him in return. Taking a deep breath to expel the panic that had risen in her chest and choked her painfully, she stopped in the deserted corridor, taking a moment to lean against the wall and let relief wash over her.

She walked towards the dungeon, headed towards Severus' classroom or the teachers' lounge to find him and tell him that he was to accompany her to Saint Mungo's. She thought over it and decided on her way that she would also tell him that McGonagall had become aware of his worries for her, but hadn't the slightest inkling of anything else. Or so it seemed at the moment.

Alright everyone, sorry that this chapter was so short! I've been really busy lately and haven't had much time to write, but here's the latest! Thanks (yet again, I know this might be getting old) to all of you who read and to those of you who review! I love you all! ~Taelr