Eight Months Prior

The month that followed, after Hermione and Severus had their unprecedented moment of understanding and relating to one another, they seemed to become somewhat friends. Severus, for example, offered to supervise the detentions of those students who misbehaved in her class. To Hermione's delight, and someone to her horror, the students who had detention with Severus never seemed to disrespect her or act up in class again. She never asked what he had done, but she was grateful.

As the students began to listen and actively participate in class, she found herself rather enjoying her role as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. She was able to provide her students with real world experience and knowledge, which seemed to finally keep them all on the edge of their seats. They began to ask her questions that involved her, and the "Is Harry Potter really…?" and "Is it true that Harry Potter…?" interruptions significantly died down.

After class one day, she was particularly touched by what one of her second years remained behind to say to her.

"Professor Granger," the slight, raven-haired Hufflepuff said.

"Yes, Miss Clementine?"

She noticed the girl shuffled her feet and tugged at the cuff of her robes.

"I was very small when the war was going on," she began in a voice barely above a whisper. "My mother was a Muggle-Born, and we all had to go into hiding."

Hermione did not miss the fact that her student had said was a Muggle-Born. Her face softened and she felt a tightening in her throat.

"They found us," the young Hufflepuff continued. "My mother-" her breath hitched. "My mother tried to fight them off, but in the end…"

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said in a gravely voice, thick with emotion.

The girl's head snapped up; tears glistened in her eyes. "Don't be. You ended it. All of it, and I just wanted to say - I just wanted to say, thank you. It's an honor to have you as my professor."

Hermione was rendered speechless by what her student confided in her. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she patted the young girl on the shoulder, and finally managed to say something.

"Your mother was very brave."

The girl managed a smile. "She was, Professor."

In the middle of the night, Hermione woke up screaming in a cold sweat. The nightmares returned. She dreamed she was in Malfoy Manor, pinned under Bellatrix, who had red slits for eyes - like Voldemort. Hermione struggled to free herself as Bellatrix hissed in Parseltongue, carving Mudblood into Hermione's arm. Voldemort suddenly appeared alongside Bellatrix; he ran his hand through her wild black hair and purred, "Yes Bella. Maim the piece of filth. Make her scream." The panicked shouting from Ron and Harry filled her ears. HERMIONE!

Her eyes popped opened; her heart raced. She sat up quickly and pulled the sleeve of her left arm up. It was faded after so many years, but still visible enough to nauseate her each time she saw it. The scar made her truly appreciate and empathize with Harry, and what he must had felt looking at his reflection each day; seeing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. At least she could cover hers.

Knowing that she wouldn't have been able to fall back to sleep - she was wound too tightly from the horrible dream, she decided she would head down to the kitchens and see if one of the elves would mind making her a hot cup of tea. She hated to disturb them so late, but she hadn't been there in quite some time and wanted to see how Winky was managing.

The silence and emptiness of the castle was eerie. As she walked the halls, she had painful flashbacks from the war - most likely due to the nightmare. She passed the spot where Fred died and stopped for a moment. The images of the explosion and the sounds of Percy's strangled sobs clouded her mind. Out of all the experiences from that dreadful night, that was definitely one of the worst.

She really hadn't thought of the war much, since she started teaching in the castle. She couldn't, or she'd have gone mad. Of course now and then she'd turn a corner and a small flash of that Final Battled would appear before her eyes. But for the most part, she had done a decent job of keeping those memories at bay.

Her eyes watered, and she could not seem to bring herself to tear them away from the spot where Fred perished. Sometimes it was still difficult to believe he was really gone. Even after all of these years.

"Hermione?" a familiar silky voice said from behind her.

She wiped her cheeks hastily and plastered a false smile on her face as she turned around.

Severus wore the oddest expression; one she had most certainly never seen before. He almost looked concerned.

"Good evening, Severus." She tried to sound pleasant, yet her traitorous voice cracked at the end. Any fool would have known she had been crying.

His head tilted to the side, just slightly, as he bore his black eyes into hers. "Trouble sleeping?"

Hermione nodded. She quickly deliberated if she should tell him why. Seeing the intensity in which he gazed at her, seemed to have made up her mind. For some strange reason, his presence had a calming effect on her. She felt safe.

"Nightmares," she whispered. "I don't have them as often as I had in the beginning. But… Sometimes they still come."

Hermione watched the understanding slowly come into his eyes.

"Come," was all he said, before turning and leading her down the corridor, and towards his chambers.

When they arrived to his office Severus waved his wand, which lit a few of the lanterns, giving the room a soft glow. He swiftly walked to his desk and began to rummage through the drawers, clearly looking for something. Hermione stood awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if she was supposed to enter, or what exactly he was doing. She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger and felt a strange fluttering sensation slowly form in the center of her stomach. It was nearing four in the morning, and Hermione realized she had never been so alone with Severus.

Finally Severus found what he must had been searching for; a tiny vial that he held up to show her. She noticed his eyes roll and a quiet, annoyed sigh come from him.

"I have already invited you to join me, Hermione. Do you honestly require yet another invitation to enter my office?"

Had she wanted to go in? If they had been seen, people may have assumed they were up to something inappropriate, due to the nature of the hour. But why would anyone have thought that of Hermione and Severus, she wondered. It wasn't as if she would have ever considered engaging the man in any conversation, or activity, that was anything other than professional or platonic. Hermione almost laughed at the thought.

"Something amusing?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione hadn't realized she began to smirk at her previous thought, and how utterly absurd it had been. She quickly stopped smiling and shook her head.

"No. Not at all," she lied.

Once again his eyes pierced hers, as if trying to see into her mind. Hermione had practiced Occlumency over the years and become rather decent at it. She did not fear him reading her thoughts. Although, she did feel the uncomfortable sensation of someone attempting to invade her mind. Attempting, but not succeeding. Then just as suddenly as it began, the feeling stopped. Severus furrowed his brow. Hermione almost smiled again seeing the obvious frustration on his face.

"Right…" he said slowly, before handing the tiny container to her. "This is a Dreamless Sleep Potion. It's very potent, so you need not use more than three drops before bedtime. I normally have a few spare vials lying about," he told her, but did not elaborate on why.

Hermione was genuinely touched by the kind gesture he had shown her. She assumed that after all he had been through, he most likely took the potion nightly. She highly doubted he would have wanted to relive any of his moments as a Death Eater turned spy for The Order in his sleep.

When she looked up at him, she noticed that he was looking at her differently than he ever had before. She had never seen an expression on his face quite like it - ever. His scowl disappeared, causing the lines around his eyes to smooth out significantly, and the corner of his mouth turned up just a hair.

Hermione took the time to truly look at him and began to notice little things that she never had before. For one, his hair. It wasn't nearly as greasy looking as she remembered it. It made her wonder if, since the war was over and he had more time to himself, that he actually took the time to take care of it, or if it was because of the small amount of grey hairs. Either way, she thought the salt and pepper look of his locks suited him nicely. Another thing was his stance. At that moment he looked more relaxed and less stiff than he normally was. He seemed almost comfortable with Hermione in his office, silently studying him in the early hours of the morning. He'd also come to have a dark shadow of stubble covering his face, which truthfully was quite becoming on him. If she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that he was sort of attractive. Not in the traditional sense, but the way he carried himself; confident, intelligent and powerful. There was no doubt in her mind that Severus Snape had been one of the most powerful wizards she had ever known, and that was something she began to find herself drawn to.

"Problem?" Severus asked, looking confused as to why she was staring at him.

Hermione broke herself from her thoughts and quickly shook her head. "Oh, no. Sorry, Severus. Just thinking about something." She felt her cheeks heat up. "Thank you," she said, holding up the vial.

Severus nodded, still eyeing her carefully. "It was nothing," he waved her off.

"Why Severus Snape, is this a soft side of you I'm detecting?" she joked, trying to keep him from seeing what she had just been thinking.

To her complete surprise, a bark of a laugh came from his lips, which made him look ten years younger. "No one will ever believe you, you know," he said in a threatening tone.

Hermione blinked rapidly before beginning to laugh. "And now you're actually joking? You're right, no one would believe it!"

It was the first time she had ever seen Severus smile - a real genuine smile, and her breath caught in her throat. "You should smile more," she blurted out. His eyes widened.

"It is not often I have a reason to," he responded in a hardened voice.

"Pity," Hermione whispered.

Neither one seemed to notice, but during that moment between the two, they inched closer to one another, until they were only a body width apart. Hermione felt the tension that mounted between them and her heart picked up speed when she noticed the diminished proximity between them. Suddenly an image of her closing the distance and placing her lips on his popped into her mind. She took a step back and looked to the ground. She panicked as she wondered where in the name of Merlin that had come from.

"It's rather late. I - I should probably return to my room. Thank you again."

She refused to make eye contact again, out of the fear that he would have seen that brief embarrassing fantasy.

Severus also took a step back and cleared his throat. "Take three drops if you intend to go back to sleep," he reminded her.

"I will." She hesitated for a moment. A small part of her, a part of her which she couldn't understand, wanted to stay. "Goodnight, Severus," she said, then nearly ran for the door before she had done something reckless and completely made a fool of herself.

"Sleep well, Hermione," she heard quietly from behind her.