Alright, because you guys were totally awesome with the reviews yesterday, here's another chapter for you all. No update until after monday, but to make it terrible for you all, next chapter is honestly amazing. I am so excited to post it, and I'm as eager, if not more so, to post it as you all are to read it! I apologise for any grammatical errors in this chapter, my beta reader wasn't available, and I went over it four times, but alas, I can't get everything. Anyways, I hope you will grant me many more reviews, and many thanks to those who encouraged me so impressively last chapter!

A week went by, and two developed a comfortable companionship. Hermione worked with Severus at the apothecary most of the day, and the two spent their evenings reading in comfortable silence. Hermione had grown much more familiar with Severus, which resulted in the two bantering about, with Hermione brushing off Severus's brusque personality, and not letting it get to her. Severus found himself slowly becoming accustomed to the witch's presence.

Hermione had found much comfort in Severus's friendship, even though he didn't choose to call it that. She had alerted her best friend, Harry, to where she was, and had curtly explained to Harry the basics of what had transpired between her and Ron, and Harry had let it be, just thankful that Hermione was safe. He still didn't know where exactly she was, but Hermione reassured him that she was fine, and doing well on her own. Severus paid her a quarter of the shop's weekly earnings, and she had plenty in the bank, from her fastidious saving habits. She was well off, and Severus didn't feel the need to charge her rent or any such thing, because he felt he had more than ample room. Well, that was what he had told Hermione.

Truth be told, Severus had grown to enjoy the witch's company, and they had spent every night since Hermione decided to stay in Severus's sitting room, reading until the late hours of the night. Every night had ended in them deciding to transfigure whatever respective piece of furniture they had been occupying into a bed, sleeping in the sitting room together. Neither alluded to when Severus had carried Hermione up to bed during her nightmare, and remained with her throughout the night, but both drew a certain level of comfort by sleeping together in the same room, and having it occur in the living room saved the two from any awkwardness that might have sprung up from the sheer strangeness of Severus and Hermione drawing comfort from each other in their sleep.

Hermione readily acknowledged that she was growing to like Severus, and value his begrudging friendship. Although his bitter tones and snide comments hadn't abated, the bite of his words had receded some, and Hermione had grown to realize that paying no heed to his sarcastic words was usually the better path. That being said, Hermione still felt an odd wariness around the man, as though she couldn't quite let go of how he had treated her in the past. It was certainly odd, becoming as close as she had to Severus in such a small amount of time, and she felt as if she should need some space, or some time to think about it, but every time the thought to leave entered her mind, she felt a strange resistance, a niggling doubt telling her to stay.

Hermione was in the kitchen, later that evening, gathering the ingredients from the various cupboards, with Fergus's help. As much as she delighted in the elf's fabulous cooking, and his less than slavish attitude, Hermione was used to doing her own cooking, and she loved to bake. However, Fergus appeared to be less than satisfied with how Hermione was baking, as she was creating a slight mess.

"Miss Hermione, please let Fergus help you," the elf said forcefully in his slight scottish lilt, as he purposefully wiped up the flour mess Hermione had created on the floor.

"Fergus, I've told you, I'm perfectly capable of making a batch of chocolate chip cookies," Hermione said with exasperation, as she poured a tablespoonful of vanilla extract in the bowl.

"Fergus is not questioning Miss's baking skills," Fergus replied delicately. "Just her ability to retain the mess."

"I'll clean up after myself," Hermione said distractedly, not noticing the elf's irritation. Picking up a wooden spoon, Hermione began to fold the ingredients in on each other in the bowl. She knew perfectly well she could have mixed the batter with magic, but there were some habits that died hard, and one of her favorite memories as a child was watching her mum mix and bake chocolate chip cookies.

"Miss, that is not your job," Fergus said with a frown, as he continued to wipe up the little spots of batter and whatnot that Hermione was making in the process of mixing the batter. "Respectfully, of course," the elf added.

Hermione threw her hands on her hips, and looked down at the elf. "Fergus, please, thank you for helping me find the ingredients, but I can really handle this myself," she said, her voice raising slightly.

Severus was in the sitting room, reading from a decrepit looking tome with great interest, as he listened to the raised voice of Fergus coming from the kitchen. Standing up, he decided to go investigate, as Fergus rarely raised his voice for anything. Hermione must be ripping apart the poor elf's kitchen, he though disparagingly to himself as he walked towards the sound of the argument. He arrived in the kitchen to the sight of Hermione vigorously mixing something in a bowl, and Fergus angrily wiping up whatever the careless witch dropped on the floor. The elf looked up, and relief flooded his features.

"Master! Tell this–" Fergus appeared to stop himself, and cleared his throat. "This lovely witch, that Fergus can clean up her mess if she really wishes to bake her own cookies," he said forcefully, sneaking a glare in Hermione's direction.

"Hermione, you are frustrating my elf. Is it too much to ask for you to not give him a heart attack in the process of your determined need to upset his kitchen?" Severus asked sardonically, as he eyed the flour-covered witch.

Hermione turned to look at him, throwing him an exasperated look. "Really, you two, I have this. I've made cookies many times before, and always managed to clean the kitchen without too much of a hassle," she said as she turned around and bent to get a a cookie sheet. Severus was treated to a delicious view of her jean-clad bottom, and he pointedly looked away. The strange attraction he felt towards Granger hadn't abated at all, if anything it had grown with her prolonged stay, and he did whatever he could to avoid feeding it.

"Be that as it may, Granger, you are giving Fergus a coronary," Severus replied smoothly. Fergus nodded vigorously to his words, glaring at Hermione the entire time.

"I'll be done in a bit," the bushy haired witch snapped. "And Fergus, I'll leave the mess just for you," she added witheringly as she began to plop spoonfuls of the dough on the pan.

Fergus sighed, and gave his master a beseeching look. Severus looked down at the elf, and shrugged. Hermione was obviously determined, and he didn't feel like getting in her way at the moment. Shaking his head, Severus went back to his armchair in the sitting room to resume reading his book. An hour later, Hermione tramped into the room, looking very frustrated.

"Your elf is unlike anything I have ever come across," she huffed as she glared at Severus as if it were his fault that the wayward elf had made her baking difficult.

Severus arched an eyebrow. "The kitchen is his personal space, Hermione. I have no part in that, nor do I want one."

"Of course you don't, you bloody coward," Hermione muttered playfully. "Afraid of your own house elf, eh?"

"All the power of the Dark Lord amounts to nothing when compared to Fergus's anger," Severus said evenly, his expression deadpan.

Hermione laughed loudly. "If you say so."

Hermione looked at the clock. Ten past eleven, and she was slightly surprised to see that the time irritated her. She wished it were later, when she had an excuse to transfigure the couch again and go to sleep to the sound of Severus's even breathing.

Catching herself at the thought, Hermione had to visibly contain her look of surprise at her own thoughts. She hadn't thought much of it, but she enjoyed sleeping in the same room with Severus, and she couldn't deny that fact any longer. Picking up a book, she decided to read, ignoring her thoughts as she engrossed herself in the pages of the novel. She didn't stir until Severus stood up, and yawned. He lazily flicked his wand at the armchair, and it turned into a large, queen sized bed. Hermione ignored him as he climbed in, transfiguring his robes into a simple black tee and sweats under the covers. Turning on his side, Severus glared at Hermione.

"The book will be there tomorrow, Hermione. It's past midnight."

Hermione groaned, and shut the book, and sat up. Stretching, she threw her head back and ran her fingers through the giant mess of curls that hung down her back. Severus looked at Hermione appreciatively. The jumper she was wearing suited her perfectly, and he snarled at himself as a quick image of his hands gripping her curvaceous hips, and his teeth biting softly down on her shoulder flashed across his mind. Inappropriate thoughts, he hissed at himself silently. Hermione settled back down on the couch, and looked around for her wand. Not finding it, she turned to Severus.

"Have you seen my wand?" She asked worriedly as she felt around the couch for it.

"No, I have not, not since you nearly gave my elf a heart attack in his kitchen," came the dry reply.

"I don't know where it went!"

"We can look for it tomorrow," Severus intoned, glaring at Hermione.

Hermione looked at the couch sadly. She hated sleeping on couches. Sighing, she stood up, and made to head out of the sitting room and up to the room Severus had designated as hers.

"Granger, where are you going?" Severus asked as he watched the witch walk towards the door.

"I was, er, going up to bed," Hermione said as she turned to look at Severus. "I can't find my wand," she said my way of explanation.

Severus rolled his eyes, and flicked his wand. The bed he was in grew to almost the size of the room, and he gestured to Hermione. "I sleep on the left, and if you kick, your arse is out on the floor," he said curtly, and turned over and flicked the lights off, refusing to look at Hermione any longer. There was a pause, and he sighed, knowing that Hermione would probably choose the bed upstairs than to share one with him.

Hermione looked at the inviting bed, and make her decision. She didn't feel like walking all the way upstairs, she told herself as she quickly transfigured her attire into bedclothes. Sleeping next to Severus was perfectly fine, she reasoned as she quietly climbed into the bed. It was the same as sleeping in the same room, and the bed was large enough that they could sleep on separate sides and never touch each other. Severus had taken the side closest to the door, and Hermione had to hop over his legs to get to the other side. She misjudged her little jump though, and landed on something hard.

"Ow! Damnit,witch!" Severus swore as he sat up quickly to nurse his aching shin. "Watch where you place those bloody knees of yours," he snarled.

"Sorry!" Hermione whispered as she quickly made her way to her side and slid under the duvet. "If there's a bruise I'll take care of it tomorrow," she added. Settling down, she stared into the darkness, trying to shove down the burning question that arose in her mind. Having no luck, she turned over. "Severus?"

"I'm sleeping."

"Why did you let me into your home, and give me a job?"

Severus opened his eyes, glowering into the darkness. He turned over, facing the direction that Hermione was in. "Why must you ask such in depth questions at this hour?"

"Well, I'm curious, and there's no time like the present..." Hermione trailed off hesitantly.

"You and your incessant questioning," Severus grumbled to himself. "I don't know why," he said shortly.

"You don't have any idea?"

"No. Three years ago, if I had been given the opportunity to invite you into my home, I would have flatly refused. I don't know why I did so now."

Hermione didn't understand, but nodded regardless, and then remembered that Severus couldn't see her. "Can you hazard a guess?"

Severus heaved a sigh, and turned to lay on his back. "I want to say out of a sense of repayment, but I would be lying," he said wearily.

Hermione grew even more confused at that, and remained silent, though she was pleased to hear that Severus didn't help her out because of some skewed up sense of debt.

Severus chided himself, but couldn't stop the question that sprang from his lips. "Why did you accept all that I gave you, without even pausing to consider my motives?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide at the question, and she considered it inwardly for a few minutes. The first day, she had done it because she was confused, and had no where else to go. But why she had stayed for over a week...well, she knew the answer, and decided to take a chance and be honest with Severus. Bracing herself for the rude comments she knew would come, she answered, her voice slightly tremulous. "Because I discovered I like you, and your company, as sour as it is," she spoke so low, it was almost a whisper. "And the fact that you can hold up your end of a conversation that doesn't revolve around Quidditch is a large factor, too."

Severus stared blankly at the wall, registering what she had said. They both knew they enjoyed each others company, but neither had said it. It had remained an unspoken ideal, and now Hermione had brought it to life, and he couldn't stay silent even if he had wished it. "I share those sentiments," he responded just as quietly. Turning away from Hermione, he closed his eyes.

Hermione found herself smiling into the darkness, and had no idea why.