Hermione allowed a moment for the world around her to crash down, for her senses to explode, for her eyes to leak tears if they absolutely must—though they didn't—until she composed herself. In reality, her active mind had shifted into gear the moment the words left his mouth. The professors, contradictorily, seemed frozen.

"How much time have we got?" she heard herself ask and thanked Merlin that at the very least, her voice didn't quaver.

Snape cast his pained gaze upon her and something disturbingly close to pity, to hopelessness, twisted his face. "The better part of an hour, at the very most."

Dumbledore plopped unceremoniously into the chair beside Snape's bed, looking suddenly every minute of his advanced age. Madame Pomfrey hmph'd and took it upon herself to rouse the rest of the staff.

Freed from her scrutinizing stare, Snape righted himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The blood coloring his formerly white shirt looked grim and foreboding and he looked far too pale to be moving.

Hermione pushed her concerns for his immediate health out of her mind and focused on his pronouncement. "Is that enough time to persuade them not to come?"

Snape cocked an eyebrow and in a condescending tone he hadn't used with her in months, he asked, "And how, pray tell, do you propose we do that? Discuss it over afternoon tea and ask them nicely?"

Hermione mimicked him, cocking an eyebrow of her own. "If you think that'll work, that's your prerogative. I was thinking something more along the lines of luring them away from the school."

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a look of confusion and they each came to the conclusion that they didn't like where this was headed. "What is your plan, Miss Granger?" Snape inquired.

Hermione stood to full height and prepared herself for the inevitable argument. "You said they were after me." When Snape nodded, she said, "Nothing like live bait."

Immediately, the men before her erupted. By this time, Madame Pomfrey had returned and she, too, interjected. Hermione folded her arms and waited for the tantrum to die down. Behind her, she heard the harried, frantic footsteps of the rest of the Professors and when they were filled in on her plan, they, too, had plenty to say.

After several moments of this, Hermione held up her hands. "This bickering is getting us nowhere," she snapped, surprised by the power in her voice. "Now, you've all got two choices. You can help me, or you can watch me flounder on my own." She spun slowly during her speech, facing each Professor in turn. "Because we all know that if there is any chance that my absence from this school will save its students, I will be gone within the hour. With or without your help. I'll not have innocent people, kids, dying because of me." She emphasized the last bit, punching every word. She watched as the professors exchanged nervous, knowing she'd nearly won.

She turned to Snape and turned up every bit of charm she possessed, knowing he saw right through it but at that moment, not truly caring. "If I left now, right now, would you have time to alert Voldemort—" she suppressed a shudder, "—of my departure?"

Snape stood then, unsteadily but determinedly, and narrowed his eyes. "Hogwarts is now the safest place in the world."

She narrowed her eyes right back. "I'm not asking you to join me."

His eyes widened out of surprise and—Hermione didn't want to believe it—hurt. "You know that's not what I meant. Leaving this school, for you, would be a suicide mission, Miss Granger." He emphasized her proper title with a bite she didn't quite like.

Hermione softened. She'd apologize for that later. "Would you have time?"

He studied her carefully, trying momentarily to beseech her common sense with his eyes. After several moments, he sighed the sigh of the thoroughly exhausted and withdrew his wand, touching the tip to his mark. "Collect your necessities, and meet me by the main staircase in ten minutes," he snapped. "And I'll not be the man to inform your parents of your death, because it is now inevitable."

Hermione shrugged. "Isn't it always?"

Before anyone could say another word, she cast a glance on the people that practically raised her, the faces she may truly never see again before turning on heel and taking the stairs two at a time. She didn't have time to dwell on sentimentality. She bolted through the Gryffindor common room like the hem of her robes were on fire and more quickly than she ever thought possible, she stuffed everything within a ten foot radius into a duffel bag. She fought the sudden rush of tears as she kissed Crookshanks goodbye and laid him to rest on the foot of Ginny's bed. The girl, who had quickly become her most trusted girl friend as of late, was sleeping soundly, totally unaware of the mayhem occurring just downstairs.

Hermione left before she could change her mind. As a last thought, she scrawled a quick explanation letter to Harry and Ron which she left under the cushions of one of their three favorite overstuffed armchairs. She wiped away those stubborn tears in frustration and collected her duffel before leaving the Gryffindor common room for what was sure to be the last time.

Snape was tapping his foot in front of the staircase like he'd been waiting half an hour rather than two minutes. The Headmaster stood beside him, looking both grave and resigned. When she reached them, Snape took her bag wordlessly and was out the door in a matter of moments. Hermione rolled her eyes at his immaturity and instead focused her attentions on Dumbledore, who smiled at her sadly.

"I have no doubt that you can protect yourself, Miss Granger," he said sincerely, clapping her shoulder. "You are certainly the brightest witch in your year." His smile waned and he shook his head, dismayed at their misfortune. "Good luck, my dear. Severus has specific instructions on where to take you, and I'll be by once I can be sure there will be no attack on this school today."

Hermione nodded, fearing she couldn't manage much more than that, before following Snape out the door. He stood just beyond the gates, his arms folded tightly, his face drawn. Hermione joined him wordlessly and as they joined hands, the world around them spun and jolted until they were thrown from the grounds which, for the past seven years, she had called home. Hermione caught her last grim glimpse of the castle before her world was distorted and they were compressed by air on all sides. Just as she thought she truly couldn't stand anymore, they collapsed on a field that smelled freshly mowed.

Hermione pulled herself to her knees, gasping for air. She looked at Snape, who seemed to be struggling to sit up properly, and attempted to assist him. He spared her a menacing glance before jerking his arm away forcefully. "I don't need anymore of your help," he spat and somehow, it sounded more like an accusation than a statement.

Hermione held her hands up in mock surrender and sighed. That one was going to be fun to sort out.

He lugged her duffel bag into what appeared to be a tiny stone cottage without bothering to see if she followed. Which she refrained from doing, for a moment. Instead of dealing with the moody man she was now expected to lodge with, she took in their current surroundings and wondered where he'd taken her.

The sun was just rising over a hilly horizon. Across the hills, bright dandelions shone. They appeared to be the only residents for miles, and the tiny stone cottage at once appeared both endearingly secluded and insufferably lonely, especially since her present roommate seemed to be less than thrilled with their predicament.

Hermione sighed and reasoned that she'd put off entering long enough. She gathered every pluck of courage she had and ascended the several stone steps leading to the bright red door. Snape was nowhere in the immediate vicinity, so Hermione shrugged and took to exploring. To the direct left was a cozy living room with just enough furniture to fill it. Against the far back wall stood a pure white sofa, across from which was a matching love seat. The adjacent wall sported a delightful fireplace which was already roaring. On the mantle were framed pictures which looked like they hadn't been dusted in years.

Hermione was drawn closer to them. She blew the dust away and wiped the faces of the frames clear so that the pictures they displayed shone through. Each of them depicted a small boy with lank black hair that hung in curtains around his sallow cheeks. The boy, it seemed, never smiled. His eyes were dark and frighteningly dead for someone so young. He sat on the lap of a woman who couldn't have been anyone but his mother. Her equally dark hair was pulled back and away in a severe bun; it was streaked with gray. Her face was pulled tight, but its wrinkles were just visible. Her face, too, was unsmiling and she had a very firm grip on her son's forearms.

"Ah, yes," Snape drawled from just behind her, "you've found the family treasures."

Hermione spun around like a kid who'd been caught sneaking from the cookie jar even though she hadn't done a thing wrong. The pictures had been on display!

To ease the tension, she cleared her throat. "Was this your family home?"

Snape scoffed, and side-stepped around to her to access a bar she hadn't noticed till then. He poured himself a glass of scotch without so much as offering her a sip of water before answering. "Hardly. It was our summer home. We resided, primarily, in England."

He saw her open her mouth to interject but rolled his eyes and continued before she could. "We are currently in Lyon. It is just south of Paris. For now," he murmured, "we are safe."

With that, he made to depart from the living room entirely.

"Professor," she called after him. He halted, but didn't turn. She set her jaw. "Look, I'm not your favorite person. I get that; I'm fine with that. I didn't mean to insult you earlier—" she saw his back tense, "—but I meant what I said. I'm not asking you to risk your life as well. You've helped me this far. No one would blame you if you were to return to Hogwarts and not look back."

Perhaps it was the sincerity in her voice that made him turn…she'd never know. All she did know was that he spun, slowly and surely, to face her. He clutched his glass so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

"Let me make myself plain, Miss Granger," he practically growled. "I think what you did was incredibly stupid. I also think you've adopted far too much of Potter's sentimentality. I would implore you to see reason if I thought it would help, because the instant you hold no regard for your own safety is the instant you become vulnerable, but I know it's a moot point."

Hermione bit her lip and hated the tears that threatened to spill. She'd shown incredible strength for months, now was not the time to be weak.

At the sight of her distress, however, Snape lightened. "Though I may not agree with your decision," he said softly, "I certainly understand it."

Hermione glanced up hopefully. "You do?"

He sighed and downed the scotch in one gulp before moving to the sofa and beckoning her to him. "Sit," he murmured. When she'd obeyed, he said, "The urge to put others before yourself, while definitely stupid, is also admirable. And incredibly human, and this understandable." He reached out tentatively and took her hand. "As for your suggestion, I'm insulted that you'd think I'd abandon you."

Hermione studied him. "It's not your job anymore, Professor."

He furrowed his brows in confusion.

Hermione sighed. "For months, you've been atoning for what happened. And don't argue, I know it's true. And I just want you to know…" She looked at her hands, searching for the words. "Well, you don't owe me anything. You aren't in my, or anyone's, debt. I daresay you've more than served your punishment for whatever you might've done in the past, and it's time you acknowledge that."

Snape took a deep, calming breath. "At first, it's true: I felt a duty to you, and to the Headmaster. I felt, not the desire, but the need, to protect you. I'd harmed you in what I consider the most brutal way possible, and it was only fitting that I put much of my energy into protecting you from anything else that might harm you."

Hermione nodded and made to speak, but he spoke over her. "But that's only how it started, Miss Granger—Hermione. Before long, it had somehow stopped being my duty and started being my…well, my choice. I wanted to protect you. Needed to, even. You may not think you're my favorite person, as you so eloquently say…but believe me, Hermione, you are damned close to it."

Hermione glanced up in what can only be termed utter shock. Snape, too, was out of breath and seemed surprised by his own announcement. But he set his jaw and nodded, as if to say he was standing by his statement.

Hermione's face, involuntarily, broke into an immense smile. "Thank you, Professor—Severus. That certainly means a lot to me."

And for perhaps the first time in her memory, Snape's mouth spread into a wide and genuine smile. "You are quite welcome, Hermione."

Author's Note: PLEASE REVIEW! Happy holidays and a very happy new year to you all.