AN:/ I'm back with another chapter for you all! Please, try not to hate Harry too much after it, he has got some serious character development coming his way! Only one of you was close to guessing what's going on with the book, and I hope this provides some answers to your many questions :D

As usual thanks to those of you who favourited and followed! And a HUGE thanks to riaroo400, Paladium, Nastytashy, SevvieLuscious, purplehedgehog13, cbrendible, smithback, Arendora, lunarose87, SassenachStarbuck, Lazy gurl, and CrazySlytherin this chapter is for you! :)

Enjoy!

P.S. Sorry for any major errors from proof-reading, I went over this without my glasses on, and my eyesight seriously sucks.


Chapter 7: A Date.

Hermione overlooked the fountain through a window from the laboratory. Paula was sitting nearby, experimenting with proportions of love potions. She glanced down at her notebook. This past week has been aggravating in a sense, I have many unanswered questions about the book, and all of them are written down.

However, it was only this morning that she noticed a common theme behind her thought process. It seems that Annette's name keeps popping up. She was the one acting oddly by the bookshelf before Hermione discovered the book. Also, according to Jenny, Annette had thought she was lonely. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

What if the book didn't hold any truth? Hermione would be devastated if it turned out to be fake. I love the idea of having someone made perfectly for me. However, maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Annette. She needed proof that Quinzel Harrington wrote this book. Snape had claimed he knew of the book but thought it had perished in the fire. Somehow, it had made it out unburnt. I need to find out if Quinzel has any living relatives.

"Paula, have you heard of a Herbologist called Quinzel Harrington?" She asked, turning around in her chair.

Paula removed her goggles. "Never heard of her."

"Oh," She sighed.

"Are you doing some research on her?" Paula walked over to the counter Hermione was working at and gazed down at her notebook.

"Something like that; I discovered a book written by her and I was wondering if she had any living relatives I could talk to," She explained, closing her notebook.

"Is it to do with love potions?"

"Kind of," Hermione began to pack up her things as her shift was coming to an end. It's almost seven o'clock, Paula and I had to stay late. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Bye."

This week had been tedious, every second that passed was agonising, and she knew it was because her dreams weren't frequent. On Monday and Wednesday night, she hadn't got any sleep - I was too busy with work - then on the other nights, it seemed that Snape wasn't sleeping. However, last night there had been a dream, but this time it was his turn to be pulled out from the blissful scenario.

He must be having a stressful week at Hogwarts.

Hermione headed over to one of the fireplaces, but a familiar head of blond hair caught her eye. Draco? He was leaning against the wall looking troubled yet confused. She cautiously walked over and entered his line of sight. His posture immediately straightened.

"Granger?" He greeted harshly. "You work here?"

She nodded. "What are you doing here?"

His cheeks reddened. "W-Well...I don't have to tell you anything!"

"I was only asking Draco. You look confused," She said. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"There's no need to pretend to be a good girl to me. You and I both know that we hate each other."

"Yet, we both have an interest in Harry," His eyes widened.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He exclaimed. "I don't have an interest in Potter!"

"OK, thank you for clearing things up, I'll be sure to tell him," Hermione turned on her heelpiece, but Draco stepped around to block her from leaving.

"Yes?" She raised a quizzing brow.

"I'm coming to the whorehouse later, make sure you're not there."

"No can do, Draco. We always go on a Friday," Her grip tightened on her bag strap. The book is inside. "Are you taking a dreamless sleep potion?"

He eyed her suspiciously.

"I think you are because Harry hasn't dreamt about you for two weeks now," She explained. "Also…" She trailed off reaching into her bag to pull out the book. With a swift motion, she opened it up and held it out to him. "Can you see anything on this page?"

"Yes," His face tightened in confusion. "What's going on?"

I knew it. Harry lied to me.

"Nothing to worry your blond head about, Draco. I may see you later," She stepped around him and made her way home.

When she arrived at Grimmauld Place, she found Harry submerging himself in a bottle of firewhisky. He promised only to have two drinks tonight. He lied, again. Hermione was reaching her breaking point. I'm doing the best I can for him, but I'm not professional help; he needs professional help.

"Harry!" She ditched her bag by the kitchen door and walked over to him. "That's enough!" Hermione took the bottle away from him and placed it on the side.

"The heck!?" He yelled, shooting up from his chair. She saw him stagger from his quick actions. "I was drinking that…"

"You promised me that you'd only have two drinks tonight," She kept her voice steady. "But, it appears that you've already exceeded your limit. There's only half a bottle of firewhisky left."

"I can do what I want!" He snapped, rushing towards her. He has never got this angry before. She could see a vein pulsing viciously on his forehead; his jaw was tight in his fury.

"Harry, calm down," She muttered, flinching away from his firewhisky breath.

"You don't get to tell me what to do!" He screamed in her face, and she narrowed her eyes up at him. "I don't want you here!" Hermione moved to get away from him, but his hand latched onto her wrist tightly.

"Let go!" She tried to escape his clutch. However, his grip tightened cutting off the blood flow to her fingers. "Harry, you're hurting me!"

"Good!" He seethed as he grabbed the bottle of firewhisky with his free hand and took a sip. "This makes me feel good! Stop interfering!"

"Let me go!" He didn't, and the look in his eyes let her know that she needed to get out of the house. "Harry, please."

"Pack your shit. I don't want you here anymore!" He pulled her close to his chest, and she yelped.

"Harry, you're drunk-"

"No, I'm not!" Hermione gritted her teeth, then violently yanked herself out of his hold. She stared down at the red finger marks around her delicate wrist. "Get out!"

Whenever Harry got extremely drunk, he usually ended up crying and seeking her out for comforting words. Never had he been violent, not like this. She searched his eyes for any sign of hope, and the pain in her wrist made her bottom lip quiver.

"Can't you see everything I've done for you. Everything I am doing!?" She screeched. "You don't work! I pay for all of your food! Your drink! I give you the money to pay the women at the whorehouse! I'm working long hours, five days a week to keep us stable! I've even put money aside for us to go on holiday together!"

"After slaving away at work, I come back to make sure you get fed; then I take you to the whorehouse every weekend! I've always been on my own up until recently. I sat in a dimly lit room, listening to things that made my stomach turn! Then after you've finished your drunken bender, I drag your arse back home and make sure you're tucked into bed safely! My whole life revolves around you! I'm not interfering with your life because you wouldn't have a life to live if I wasn't here! Think about that while you sober up!"

Hermione grabbed her bag, then fled the room.

...

Hermione rolled down her blazer sleeve to cover the bruise that was forming around her wrist. She didn't have access to a bruise salve, but there was one at home; I can't return there at the moment.

She buried her face in her hands and choked on her sob. Harry's very ungrateful. Why can't he see I'm only trying to help him? "He has gone too far this time," She muttered. "Too far."

"Hermione?" She immediately took her hands away from her face and quickly wiped her tears off her cheeks. She should've sensed him coming. However, she could now smell his consuming scent.

"Hello, Severus," Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face and looked over at him.

He was wearing his teaching robes, and he looked exhausted from a long week. Though, it appeared Hermione's smile wasn't fooling him. She watched his appearance go from tiredness to anger at the sight of her tearstained cheeks, and he moved over to her instantly.

"What happened!?" His thundering voice sent shockwaves through her body.

"N-Nothing," She lied. Hermione felt bad for not being honest, but she knew better than to tell him what had transpired. I don't want Severus to hurt Harry.

"Learn to lie better, Granger," His voice settled into his comforting drawl, and she leant into him slightly.

"It has been a very trying week," She whispered. "A lot of long nights and coming home to more work."

Hermione felt his doubtful eyes on her, so she quickly flashed him another smile. "I've been dealing with a prank war between Slytherin and Gryffindor house all week. The dunderheads are getting creative and striking at night."

She laughed. "At least they're having fun."

"Being consistently kept away from sleep isn't fun, Hermione. These past few weeks have been the only time I ever welcomed it," The one thing she liked/hated about Snape was his ability to be brutally honest. Sometimes it brought joy to her fluttering heart, or it sunk it like an iron weight in water. However, she never expected him to be so admitting of his feelings just yet.

"Isn't it odd that we've both had bad weeks?" She mused, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "Maybe we're both deprived of dreams."

"Who knows, perhaps you're right," He smirked subtly. "One can only wish to fall into a blissful sleep tonight."

Her giggle almost made her cringe. I sound like a lovestruck little girl. "Other than the prank war, how has your week been?" She unconsciously fiddled with the sleeve that covered her bruised wrist.

It was an action that he noticed with narrowed eyes. "Nothing abnormal."

"Good," She chirped and pulled the sleeve down to cover more of her hand. "I've been trying to do some research on the book-" Snape grabbed her by the arm and yanked up her blazer sleeve, revealing the dark bruise wrapped around her wrist.

"What the fuck is this?" He asked flatly; his tone didn't waver. He's furious.

"I-I had an accident at work..." She murmured, and he pinned her with an angry look.

"I'm not sure what you do for a living, Hermione. But those," He pointed to her bruises. "Look like finger marks. It would be in your best interest not to lie to me."

Hermione took in a huge breath and lowered her head. "I got into a fight with Harry...h-he was very angry at me for telling him to stop drinking, then he grabbed me."

She noticed that Snape was tenderly stroking the tight skin near her wrist, but his eyes and face didn't display any of his kind gesture. "Potter..." He hissed.

"It's OK; I'll sort things out tomorrow. Technically, Harry kicked me out, but I'm sure he'll think differently tomorrow."

"The sod kicked you out?" He retorted, and she realised he was burning a hole into the floor with his eyes.

Hermione nodded. "I know he didn't mean to do it. He was drunk and angry-"

"Don't try to justify his actions!" He snapped back. "He's not the victim!"

"I'm not justifying his actions!" She clipped back.

"Hermione, he hurt you!"

"I know that!"

"He hurt you! I'm going to kill him!" He moved to get up, but she pulled him back down by his arm.

"You won't do such a thing, Severus. I will talk reasonably with him tomorrow morning, where he will no doubt cry over his actions," She explained. "It's only a bruise. It will heal."

"He still caused you harm," He growled bringing his face closer to hers.

"He did," She whispered glancing down at his lips. "But, I'm OK now."

"Hm," He grunted moving his gaze down to her rosy mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. He moved away keeping them a word apart and nudged her chin with a long finger.

"I've missed you," Hermione brushed her lips against his; a light feather-like kiss that started a fire in her stomach. It was a heartwarming scenario being this close to him, their lips occasionally brushing, but never in a proper, intense kiss that usually devoured them.

"Hermione, can I take you out for dinner-"

"Severus!" Draco shouted from somewhere in the building, causing them both to pull away from each other. Why does somebody always interrupt!? "You said you wouldn't leave me alone in this shit hole- Granger!"

Hermione looked over Snape's shoulder at the blond haired git; he was wearing the same clothes she'd seen him in only a couple of hours ago.

"I told you not to come," He didn't hide his disappointment. "Typical Gryffindor not doing what she's asked."

"He's not here Draco so you can lay off the snide remarks," She grumbled, resting further back into the sofa giving Snape a funny look. Was he about to ask me out to dinner...on a date?

Draco regarded her with uncertainty. "Then why are you here?"

"I have friends here who I'm very close to."

"Are you sure that you don't work here, Granger?" His words emanated a growl from Snape's chest, and he glared at Draco.

"Watch your tongue boy!" He snapped. "Go downstairs."

"Why because you want to stay up here with Granger?" He scoffed, blatantly not thinking that the words he spoke held an element of truth.

"Let us go and find some salve to put on your wrist," He said - oddly - soft. They got to their feet and left Draco behind in the foyer.

Would he oppose to me pushing him into one of the rooms and having my way with him? The idea was tempting. She gazed at his tense shoulders. OK, would he oppose to me giving him a massage? It was a more alluring thought. Suddenly, she collided with his back, and he grabbed the front of her shirt to stop her falling.

"Thank you," She mumbled.

"Evening, love," Annette stepped out of her study. "How are you feeling-"

"Do you have a salve?"

"Don't be rude, Severus," Hermione scolded. "I'm doing well Annette, how are you?"

Annette smirked as her eyes roamed over them. "I'm a little tired tonight, and my knees were causing me grief this week. A perk of getting old."

"I can make you something for it?" She offered, and Annette smacked a wet kiss on her head.

"That would be lovely," She grinned. "Severus there is a salve in my study," She pointed to the door behind her, then bid them goodbye.

"Please refrain from scolding me like a child, Granger," He grumbled walking into the room.

"Get used to it," She retorted, looking over the bookshelves filled with odd books. "The only thing I'll ever try to change about you is your lack of manners towards people. Other than that, you're free to be yourself."

"I don't recall you being perfectly etiquette," He shot back, opening up a cabinet.

"Tell me, Severus, when was the last time you said please or thank you?" She heard him scoff as she took a book from the shelf.

"I remember my manners when necessary Hermione."

"Of course you do," She whispered and walked over reading the first page of a random book. Her eyes widened, and she flung the book on the table. "The idea of Annette reading an erotic novel unsettles me."

Snape glanced down at the open book catching a few of the words. He looked back at her with a small smile. "Give me your arm."

She tilted her head to the side with a playful smirk. "What's the magic word?"

"Your arm if you will," He held out his waiting palm, and she rolled her eyes. "May I have your arm, please," She laughed, placing herself in his hold. He began to apply the salve, and she beamed at the movement of his fingers.

When he finished, and the bottle returned to the shelf, he looked at her thoroughly.

"You were asking me something before Draco interrupted," She stepped closer to him craning her neck so she could gaze into his dark eyes.

"Mhm," His mouth fell into a thin line. "Dinner?"

"Dinner sounds lovely," Hermione whispered. "I thought that you should know, I don't kiss on the first date-" She stumbled backwards from the force of his lips connecting with hers. She inhaled sharply, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck.

His tongue found its way into her mouth, and she couldn't fight the smile from forming between open-mouthed kisses. I would be content for the rest of my life kissing him...OK, that's a lie. I need much more than kissing.

Snape escorted her back into the desk and swiftly seized behind her thighs to hoist her up onto the wooden surface. The new leverage was intoxicating, and she groaned into his mouth. He ran his hand up her thigh causing her to shiver as she hooked her leg around his waist to bring him closer.

The feel of his hardening erection pressed against her warm heat fuelled her forming ecstasy. Snape moved his hand under her shirt, carefully tracing circles on the soft skin of her stomach, then ventured his hand up to cup her breast through her lacy bra.

Hermione moaned agonisingly, her body swelling up with unbearable tension. She dropped her hands to his chest, curling her fingers against his dark robes. Snape grazed his lips along her jawline prompting her to arch into him more.

He gently kneaded her breast against his palm, and Hermione felt raw emotion overflow her body. It had to be the soulmate bond because she couldn't imagine anyone else ever making her feel so stimulated just by touching her.

She knew he felt it too, but his reaction was to stiffen, probably from the unfamiliarity of such an intense feeling. Snape didn't remove his hand from her breast but did pull his lips from their descent to her neck. His eyes locked onto hers with a gaze that was almost loving.

"Sunday evening," He said huskily.

Our date. "Sunday sounds brilliant," Hermione's creased brow ruined the moment. "I think I'm sitting on a book," She shifted on the desk and retrieved it from beneath her.

"It looks like a journal," He removed his hand from her breast, but kept himself close.

Hermione smirked, opening up the front page. "The Journal of Annette Harrington. She really shouldn't leave this lying around-OH, Merlin!"

Snape snatched the journal from her and allowed Hermione to lean against him to look at it. "Quinzel Harrington, the author of the book...Annette Harrington. I wouldn't say that's a coincidence."

It seems we've just discovered a living relative of the writer of Soulmates. I have a lot of questions.