Hermione was propped up in bed with a book in her hands and a purring Crookshanks on her lap. She'd had the same page open for at least half an hour, her mind on other things. So much had happened in the last few weeks. The Hogsmeade weekend had come and gone, and she had perfected the best way to use Isolation Wards to protect muggle technology, though it had taken her 7 Nokias to get it right. She had had a fabulous time with Ginny and the boys. It had felt as if their bonds of friendship had only strengthened despite the distance and the strain they'd been through. Both seemed to have settled and matured over the last few months, and she was almost unbearably proud of the men they were becoming. Hermione smiled to herself, thinking of Harry's messy hair, Ron's blue eyes, the laughter that had come tumbling easily from within for perhaps the first time since before they went Horcrux hunting. With this development with the wards, she had met with Minerva again who had secured funding from the Ministry and was working on the curriculums. Hermione was now helping with this, and the two of them met weekly to iron out the details. She had insisted Minerva consult with the rest of the staff to come up with everything that should be covered in the Wizarding Studies classes (unfortunately neither of them had managed to come up with anything better), whilst she did the same with other muggleborns, collating a list of everything they hadn't known. Once both lists were finalised, they were going to go through them and prioritise. A cabin was to be built on the outskirts of the castle, once it was constructed, she would be organising everything being moved and set up within. Mobile phone signal was surprisingly acceptable within the grounds, but she really wanted to get the internet set up and an aerial put in so they could properly demonstrate computers and TVs. Getting it supplied with mainline electricity was the long term goal, but to begin with they were going to get a generator installed and go from there. This was certainly going to be a challenge, but they had time, and Hermione was really looking forward to sorting all the logistics out and getting everything ready. She had happily accepted Minerva's offer of employment next year and announced it to the group the following Friday (Ginny had of course been told beforehand), and they'd spent the evening celebrating. Draco had disappeared and come back sometime later with several bottles of very expensive champagne and they'd ended up having a bit of party. It had actually become so raucous that Minerva had appeared and told them all to settle down (after having a glass herself and insisting they toasted Hermione). It was to be mostly a Transfiguration apprenticeship, but in the first year she would be ironing out any issues with the new Programmes and helping with classes, as well as creating a guide to protecting muggle technology from magic, while Minerva still taught the older years. The thought filled her with excitement and anticipation in a way she hadn't felt since well before Voldemort's return. They would be interviewing for a new full time Muggle Studies teacher over the summer, the current Muggle Studies teacher was a half-blood and would be moving to teach the Wizarding Studies classes, with other members of staff giving lectures here and there. There was still a lot to be figured out, but they were already well on the way and it had only been a few weeks. Minerva seemed nearly as excited as Hermione, and the two of them had really strengthened their relationship as they'd been working on it together.

In the weeks since Professor Snape had had his ... incident, she had expected him to lash out at her again, or distance himself from her following that night, but to her surprise he had done no such thing. In classes during the week he had largely ignored her, but this wasn't unusual and she had done her best not to draw any attention to herself anyway. On Sundays, he had been much the same, quiet and impassive, but no more so than he had been before, and after the first week when she hadn't mentioned it he had seemed to relax slightly. She had been so busy and so preoccupied they had mostly sat together in a silence that was not uncomfortable. When they had talked, it had been easy and almost casual. Hermione had been true to her word and not even told Ginny about any of it. It seemed too private, in a way, and she doubted she would have spoken of it even if she hadn't promised. 'I thought I was all alone' his tortured words from that night still floated around Hermione's mind, more so than anything else that had happened. What they had together wasn't much, it was barely anything by usual standards, but she hoped, with her whole heart, that it was something. That it was enough for him to not feel quite so alone.

"There are still Death Eaters out there, you know."

Spring was fully fledged now, the weather was finally warmer and although it had been a wet and blustery April, on the days it was clear it was really quite pleasant. Hermione was walking by the lake with Ginny, Neville and Luna, skimming stones with Neville while the two girls paddled.

"I think there's only two still at large." Hermione said, immediately uneasy. "Isn't it just Yaxley and Mulciber left?"

"Yes, but there will still be lots of people out there who still support Voldemort, and his cause." Ginny continued, looking grim.

"The Death Eaters will have fled to another country if they've got any sense." Said Neville. "And Voldemort's supporters will keep very, very quiet if they know what's good for them."

"Are you worried about it, Ginny?" Luna asked, now up to her knees in water.

"Not exactly." Ginny sighed. "It just feels weird, somehow, that there are still such bad people out there and we're not doing anything about it."

"There are always going to be bad people out there." Hermione said seriously. "We can't change the whole world. And right now, it's not our job to. There are teams of Aurors searching for the remaining Death Eaters, for once, we don't need to do anything."

Ginny smiled slightly, and turned to look out at the lake. Luna was now sitting down in the water.

"It feels weird, doesn't it?" She asked.

"Yes." They all agreed.

Hermione sighed as she looked out her window at the rain. It was Sunday, she was wearing all her outwear and had practiced her rain-repelling charm until she was happy with it. Still. She made her way downstairs and braced herself as she reached the front doors. It was absolutely hammering it down, the wind was howling through the grounds and there was something in the air that made her suspect a full on storm was on it's way. But ... but she couldn't not go.

Steeling herself, she pushed the doors open and then battled them closed behind her. The wind was even stronger than she had thought, it nearly blew her off course several times as she made her way out to the tomb, aware that it was foolish to be going at all and Snape would most likely have the good sense not to come. When she finally made it there, she stood, rather that sat, undecided what to do. The weather was so bad she could hardly stay out here, but it seemed unwise to seek Snape out in his office given how he had reacted last time. But then things were different now ... surely they were...

"MISS GRANGER!"

Hermione jumped and turned to look at Professor Snape, immediately glad she'd come. The wind was whipping his robes out behind him and blowing his hair away from face. Lightning flashed overhead. Her heart pounded.

"What are you doing out here?!" He demanded, his voice only just below a shout. Whether this was to be heard over the wind or because he was angry, she couldn't tell. The wind was making her hair blow over her face and she was having to use both hands to try and restrain it.

"It's Sunday." She shouted back, making her way closer to her Professor. Still the wind howled and the rain pounded down.

"It's also a thunderstorm." Snape scowled. "Inside. Now."

"But..." Hermione struggled to think, let alone articulate. "But you're out here!"

"I have business here."

"So do I." Hermione countered fiercely.

"Miss Granger this is foolishness." Snape snarled. "Go inside!"

"But I've been looking forward to seeing you!"

She lost her battle with her hair at that point and it almost covered her face entirely. She saw Snape's mouth turn upwards slightly, though, and felt her face heat in response.

"Can we..." She continued, trying to catch her breath as the storm raged on. "May we have tea still? Inside?"

"No." Snape said shortly. "Come."

Automatically, she obeyed, following him up the path back to the castle. Twice they had to stop and simply try to remain upright as a particularly strong gust of wind nearly knocked them over.

"Why?" Hermione demanded, as they turned a corner and were sheltered slightly as the castle came into view.

"I don't answer to you." Snape snapped. "I have told you 'no.' Don't push it."

"But I want to." Hermione argued. "I won't talk to you, if that's what you're worried about. We can sit and drink tea anywhere. Why-"

"Enough." Snape hissed, his face suddenly very close to hers and twisted in anger. He gave her once last, furious look, before he took off ahead of her and marched back to the castle, his pace one she couldn't hope to match if she tried.

Thunder rumbled overhead once again as the sky flashed white, and her rain-repelling charm abruptly failed. Within seconds she was soaked through and utterly shocked. Then, scowling, grumbling under her breath, she made her way inside and back to her rooms.

"What an impossible, ridiculous man!" She shouted at Crookshanks, as she wrung her hair out and stripped out of her sodden clothes. Crookshanks blinked at her. "What the hell is wrong with him?! Why is having tea inside such a ridiculous idea?!"

Still furious, she got into her shower and washed herself roughly, drying, re-dressing and throwing herself onto the bed. Her cat came and rubbed at her face purring softly, but his expression was slightly reproving.

"I know he's very private." She told him. "But surely just sitting in his office for an hour or so isn't such an appalling idea?!"

Crookshanks gave her a blank look.

"I suppose he does have a strict code of conduct." She said softly. "It must be some sort of line he feels he can't cross."

Sighing, she turned on her side to make it easier to cuddle her cat properly, starting to feel a little foolish for being in such a snit. He was still Professor Snape: a cold, distant, nasty and unapproachable man. If she forgot that sometimes, it was hardly his fault, and it made sense that he would have strict ethics and boundaries that he wouldn't breach, even if she didn't fully understand them. The issue was, that she wanted to be closer to him. Hermione frowned as she considered this. She had been so disappointed not to get to spend time with him today, that was why she was so angry. She wanted to be near him, she wanted to get to know him, she wanted him to feel the same.

"Come on." Hermione picked up her cat and headed towards the common room. "There's no point moping, let's go be social."

The following week at the grave, the weather was better, though Snape's disposition was not. He had been silently hostile since he arrived, even making drinking her tea seem like an imposition. She couldn't work out whether this was because she had argued with him last week, or if it was unrelated, and she felt tired and irritable herself. Summer was approaching, and with it, the exams she was so looking forward to, and so dreading.

She glanced over at him just as the sunshine filtered through the clouds. The light hit the side of Snape's face, and the Glamour he used on his neck caught her eye. Before she had a chance to blink, Snape had leapt to his feet and whirled around to face her, his lips pulled back in a snarl and hatred radiating off him.

"You can see it?" He asked, indicating to his neck. His voice was soft and deadly, his rage tightly coiled.

"I can see a shimmer of magic." She said, keeping her own voice calm and even. "I know it's there, so I can see the Glamour, sometimes, but I can't see it."

"Of course." Snape sneered. "Because why should I be permitted even that modicum of privacy."

In one swift movement, he cancelled the spell and ripped his collar away so she could see his neck.

If she hadn't helped Poppy with the injured after the final battle, she would have gasped.

The side of Snape's neck was a mess. The skin was red, raised and twisted, two dark puncture marks were still clearly visible. It was stretched tightly, shiny and sore and utterly devastating. Scenes from that fateful night flashed before her, Snape's scream echoed in her head, the blood pooled around him, the twisting, gnawing guilt surrounded her.

"Looked your fill?!" Snape demanded, bringing her back to the present. "Curiosity satisfied? This who you're choosing to spend your time with."

He ripped his left sleeve up and bared his forearm to her. For a moment, all she could focus on was Snape's pale, porcelain skin and the dark, wiry hairs on his arms. A strange feeling of intimacy struck her, before her eyes moved over what he had clearly intended to show her. The Dark Mark looked like it had melted, it almost looked like a burn scar, uneven and raised, but the skull and and snake was still, unfortunately, clear to see.

"I am a Death Eater." Snape hissed, his voice still soft and venomous as anger crackled in the air around him. "I have tortured. I have killed. I have done things and witnessed things you couldn't begin to imagine."

Snape lowered his arm back to his side and glared at her, his face dark and dangerous.

"Run." He whispered. "Run before I damage you beyond all recognition."

Hermione stood, feeling strangely calm. She pulled up her own sleeve, and showed him her forearm.

The word 'mudblood' stood out starkly. The letters were large, swollen and dark. Snape was staring down at the scarring as if mesmerised.

"I am a mudblood." She said quietly. "I have been tortured, I have seen people killed, I have done things and witnessed things I'm sure you can imagine only too well. I am not a delicate little wallflower. I survived it all. I can take it all."

She put her arm down and met Snape's dark, heavy eyes. She couldn't read much from him, but the rage that had sparked in the air between them had evaporated so quickly she felt slightly dizzy.

"Scars show where we've been, what we've gone through. You haven't been a true Death Eater since you were a teenager. And my mud blood is the same colour as anyone else's."

"Don't use that word." Snape said softly. "Please."

"Fine." Hermione agreed. Their eyes were still locked together, amber against black, and there was something desperate and helpless brewing in Snape's face. "But don't try to send me away. I've been through too much, so have you. Don't do me the disservice of thinking I'm so easily scared off."

"But you should be scared." Snape said, his face surprisingly earnest. "I'm a dangerous person to know."

"I have a great track record with danger." Hermione smiled, trying to ease some of the tension. "Haven't you been paying attention?"

A ghost of a smirk lifted his face, and encouraged, she reached forwards and squeezed his arm. Instantly, the hatred flared back around them and Snape pulled away, glaring at her as if she'd struck him.

"It... It shames you? Doesn't it?" She asked, suddenly understanding. "When I'm nice to you?"

"Everything about you shames me." Snape snarled.

"Why?"

"WHY?!" Snape shouted. "Haven't you been listening? Haven't you been using that supposedly vaunted intellect of yours? I have committed atrocities, I have been a part of things so evil they don't bare speaking about! I-"

"You don't think you deserve it." Hermione interrupted. "That's it, isn't it?"

"I DON'T deserve it!" Snape screamed, stepping back from her. The air around them was thick with uncontrolled magic, Snape looked like he was on the edge of losing control entirely. His robes were billowing out behind him though he was standing still, his face was red, his teeth bared and he was panting.

"That's not true. And even if it was, isn't that my decision?" She asked firmly. "Isn't it my call?"

"You're not making an informed decision." He said stiffly. "If you knew-"

"I have a pretty good idea." Hermione interrupted, again. "I attended your trial, and the trials of several true Death Eaters. I know the sort of things that happened."

They stared at each other silently for several moments. Snape looked stricken.

"And if you ever want to tell me, or talk about any of it," she continued. "I will listen, and I won't judge, and I'm not going to change my mind. Like it or not."

Snape looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes mapped her face, her neck, her arms, then he met her gaze once again, his face, for once, open, and honest.

"Now sit down and finish your tea, I've been shouted at enough for one day."

She had expected Snape to tell her she was insufferable, or bossy, or remind her she wasn't permitted to speak to him in such a way, and hoped that getting back to familiar territory would make them both feel better. She hadn't expected the smallest of smiles to lift his pale face, nor for him to indicate that she should sit first, and hand her her tea before he also sat, and picked up his.

"Well you're really making progress with him then." Ginny said, as Hermione finished updating her.

"Yes I guess." Hermione agreed.

"And it sounds like he is a total fuck up, just like we thought. 'Everything about you shames me' that's pretty intense Hermione."

"Yeah it really was." Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure I really get it."

"You're you." Ginny supplied.

"Helpful, Gin."

"You're Hermione Granger, war hero! Best friend of the saviour of the wizarding world! Horcrux hunter! Muggleborn genius!" Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're perceived as whiter than white, purer than pure. Snape obviously sees himself as the antithesis of all that. When he was your age he was a loyal Death Eater, you're a national hero. Your presence near him probably makes him feel even darker than he usually does. You've got to think pretty poorly of yourself if think you don't even deserve a pat on the arm." Ginny sighed. "He really should go and see Dr Prewett."

"He really should." Hermione smiled slightly, though she still felt melancholy. "How am I supposed to help him?"

"You can't force him to get help, you can't even force him to open up and talk to you. You've made a lot of progress, if you think about it. You're doing everything you can, sticking by him, everything he'll let you. And I'm sure it's more than anyone else has done for most of his life."

"But isn't that just so sad, Ginny? He deserves so much more."

"Not according to him. And you can't rush these things. He's already let you in a lot by his standards. And even trying to warn you away is ... kind of sweet? Don't glare at me, it is! He's trying to protect you. I know it's not much and with anyone else it would be nothing at all, but he's Snape, Hermione, you couldn't have picked a harder person to get close to."

"I know." Hermione conceded. "It's just so hard knowing he feels so badly about himself, he shouldn't."

"No." Ginny agreed. "But healing takes time, and even longer when you're as fucked up and isolated as Snape."

The two of them lapsed into a thoughtful silence for a few moments, before Ginny abruptly laughed.

"What?!" Hermione asked.

"I was just thinking ... between classes and your Sundays at Dumbledore's grave, you probably spend more time with Snape than anyone else!" Ginny's brown eyes were glinting mischievously. "You're Snape's best friend!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione shouted and Ginny laughed again.

"You are!" The redhead insisted. "I mean, only because he literally doesn't have anyone else, but still! With a wand to his head, if he had to pick someone, he'd have to say you! He doesn't even really speak to anyone else!"

"Oh my God." Hermione groaned, putting her head in her hands. "Okay, forget Muggle Studies, new project: find Snape some friends."

Ginny laughed.

"What is the long term goal here though, Mione?" She sked, suddenly serious. "To be like, actual friends with Snape?"

"I... I don't really know." Hermione said honestly. "I guess so? I've not really thought about it beyond just being worried about him. We'll be colleagues next year..."

"Colleagues and best friends. Ouch."

Hermione had thrown a pen at her.

"What does he look like when he smiles? I can't imagine it."

"The same really," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Only ... only nicer. Younger maybe? More human."

"Weird. How are you getting on with prep for next year? I saw the new classroom is under construction."

"Yes we're getting there! It's all so exciting! We're trying to get as much done as possible next month and then I'm going to take a step back and focus on NEWTs." Hermione rolled her eyes. "This year is going so quickly!"

"So quickly." Ginny agreed. "It's going to be awful not being in the same building at all times."

"It is, actually." Hermione frowned. "I haven't really thought much about what it will be like here next year without you."

"It'll be really, really sad, but you'll be fine! You'll have Neville, and when Harry and I move to Grimmauld Place you'll have to come round for dinner at least once a week. Maybe Ron too."

"That sounds lovely." Hermione smiled.

"I was thinking of monthly meetings for the strays as well." Ginny continued. "I'll kick Harry out for a night and we can all catch up. Maybe the first Friday of every month."

"Ginny you have got to think of another name!" Hermione laughed.

"No I don't."

"Draco." Hermione held Malfoy back at the end of their Friday gathering, waiting until they were alone to speak. "I was wondering if you would come to the Anniversary Ball with me on Sunday? Just as friends."

It seemed almost impossible that it had nearly been a year since the final battle. The Ministry was throwing a Ball to commemorate it, and she was expected to attend, as were Harry and Ron. Hermione had wanted to boycott the entire thing, seeing at the Ministry had done almost nothing to help them with the war at all, but the boys had to go given that they now worked for the Ministry, and with Kinglsey as Minister for Magic and many senior positions held by Order members, it wasn't the place it had been before. Besides, she wasn't sure she could be bothered with the drama and publicity it would cause if she didn't make an appearance. Harry was taking Ginny, Ron was taking Emma, a girl from their Auror training, and she certainly didn't want to have to walk in alone.

"Go with you?" He asked incredulously. "Like a date?"

"Not like a date." She rolled her eyes. "As friends. Harry, Ron and I have to walk in together, like some ridiculous parade, they're both taking someone, and I don't want to have to walk in on my own."

"Can't think of anyone better to ask?"

"I'm asking you." Hermione shrugged. "You don't have to, and I'm sure I could find someone else if needed, but you're used to attending posh functions like this, and I thought it would be good for your standing. You don't have to stay with me all night, if that's what you're worried about. I just need someone to walk in with me and sit next to me at dinner, then you can go and network or whatever else it is you want to do. I'm sure they'll be loads of people there you know."

"It would do wonders for my standing, walking into the Ministry with the Golden Trio." Draco scowled and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure I want to owe you more than I already do."

"You don't owe me anything." Hermione frowned. "You'd be doing me a favour, really."

Draco pushed his blond hair back and gave her a sour look.

"And Potter and Weasley won't curse me on site?"

"No. They know me and Ginny don't have a problem with you anymore. As long as you're civil, they will be too." Hermione sighed, feeling suddenly very old. "There was a war, people died. The anniversary will be hard on us all, they don't care about schoolboy feuds anymore."

"Fine. What time do we need to be there?"

"6pm."

"I'll meet you in the entrance hall for 5:30 then."

"We're flooing directly from Minerva's office to Kingsley's, so meet by the entrance to the Head's office?"

"Fine." Draco blinked, looking slightly bemused. "Granger?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"I still don't like you, just so you know. You're annoying."

"The feeling is mutual." Hermione snapped, but they both smiled slightly awkwardly as the youngest Malfoy turned to leave. She felt better about the ball already.

The 2nd May dawned clear and bright. It was a surreal day from the moment she woke up until the moment she went to sleep. Breakfast was subdued in the Great Hall, she ate huddled with her fellow Gryffindors, and the other houses seemed much the same. The Ministry had declared the following day a Holiday, so all classes were cancelled. There would be parties in the common rooms and across the country, but to those whose lives had been forever changed by the events that took place a year ago, it didn't feel like a day to celebrate.

She made her way out to the grave almost immediately after lunch, earlier than she usually would, aware she would need to leave early to get ready. Snape was already there. Hermione sat closer to him than usual, and handed him his tea in silence. She had no idea what to say, words seemed inadequate.

"Are you going to the Ball tonight?" She asked softly, some time later.

"No."

"No, I didn't think you would be. I wish you were though."

He glanced at her, briefly, his face closed off.

"I need to be here." He said finally. "A year ago today most of my Slytherins lost family, friends, loved ones. They may have been on the wrong side, but it is a difficult day for them, as well."

"Of course." Hermione agreed. For the many of the Slytherins, it was the day they lost the war, as well. There was nothing for them to celebrate. "I'm taking Draco with me, just as friends."

"Draco Malfoy?" Snape asked incredulously.

"The one and only." Hermione tried to smile. "I thought it would be good for him, you know. And it will be nice for me as well, he's at least familiar."

"That boy has treated you appalling from almost the moment you entered Hogwarts."

"Yes." Hermione agreed. "But he's been given a second chance, and he seems to want to make the most of it."

"I hope he fully appreciates just what it is you're doing for him." Snape's voice was tight, his knuckles were white around his mug.

"I'm not interested in his gratitude." Hermione said firmly. "We're moving forwards, all of us. He deserves a shot."

"You are so naïve." Snape sneered.

"I've been accused of all sorts, over the years." Hermione said calmly. "But never of being naïve. You assume I'm doing it for purely altruistic reasons, but maybe I think Draco is fun. Maybe I want to piss off Ron, maybe I want to cause a stir in the press. I could have all sorts of ulterior motives."

"Is any of that true?"

"No." Hermione answered, enjoying the smirk that crossed Snape's face. "Truthfully I didn't know who else to go with, now Neville's paired off with Hannah. It being good for Draco was more an added perk."

They lapsed into silence after that. They were both thoughtful and melancholy today, and she would have liked to stay sitting with Snape in the peace and quiet indefinitely, but duty called.

"I need to go and ready." She said finally, and stood. "I ... I'm really glad you're alive, you know. And I'm glad I am alive too."

She rested her hand on Snape's shoulder briefly, before she took her leave, and resolutely ignored how it made his whole body tense.

Hermione was sitting with Harry, smiling slightly as she watched Mr and Mrs Weasley dancing. It had been a strange evening. She had flooed to the Ministry with Draco, Ginny and Minerva. They had greeted the boys and Kingsley, gone over the itinerary for the evening, and then paired off and headed to the Ballroom. Minerva and Kingsley had led the procession, and lightbulbs had flashed all around them as photographers had clamoured to get the best shot. She dreaded to think what the papers would say tomorrow, the shouts had grown tenth fold once the press had realised whose arm she was on. Thankfully they hadn't been allowed into the actual Ball, and so far the evening had been ... acceptable. Kingsley had announced their arrival so they'd had to walk in to applause and cheering which had made her very uncomfortable, but then they had been able to take their seats without much fuss. Kingsley had given a sensitive and stirring speech, they had held a minute of silence after the names of the dead had been read out, and then it had been dinner and dancing. After she'd dutifully danced with Draco, Harry and then Ron she had retired to the side-lines and greeted the Order members she'd not managed to reach beforehand. Draco had circulated the room looking entirely at ease and carried himself with a confidence she was sure he didn't feel, but he seemed to be having a good enough time. It was quite a strange atmosphere, in the room. The Order members seemed to fluctuate between jovial and near tears, while the copious amount of Ministry employees she'd never seen before seemed intent on having quite the party.

"They should be here." Harry said quietly. He had been elated at the beginning of the night, but his mood had dropped as time had gone on. "Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, all of them."

"I know." Hermione answered, squeezing Harry's hand.

"Snape should be here too." He continued. "He's not dead. What's his excuse."

"I think he felt he needed to be with his House today." She said slowly. "They lost friends, family members, to Azkaban as well as on the battlefield."

Harry looked at her, his green eyes serious and intent.

"You're friends with him."

"Of course not."

Harry gave her a look.

"What's Ginny said?!" Hermione demanded.

"Almost nothing." Harry placated. "But... I don't know. The two of you being on ... on good terms makes sense to me. I can see it."

"Harry." Hermione sighed. "We're barely on any terms at all. You know what he's like."

"Yeah, I do." Harry frowned down at his shoes. "I get that he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"I don't think he wants anything to do with anyone, really. I just happen to be around a bit, that's all."

"And you're stubborn." Harry smiled. "And brave. He doesn't stand a chance really."

They both chuckled, and watched Ginny dance with George, and then her Dad, all of their eyes full of tears.

"Ron seems happy with her." Hermione smiled. He hadn't left Emma's side all night.

"He is." Harry looked at her again. "No regrets, with the two of you?"

"None whatsoever. We would have been miserable."

"Mr Potter." Minerva came over, beaming. "Dance with an old lady."

"I'll dance with the Head of Hogwarts." Harry smiled. "I haven't seen any old ladies."

"You're with me again, Granger." Draco held out his hand. "Everyone will think I'm an appalling date if I only dance with you once."

"Heaven forbid." She smiled.

At some point over the last couple of hours, it had become more of a party. The dancefloor was no longer littered with couples, everyone was dancing together and the music had changed to something considerably more upbeat. Harry and Ginny were kissing in a corner, Minerva's bun had fallen out and she was doing some sort of gig with George Weasley while Mr and Mrs Weasley cried and laughed as they watched. Ron and his date seemed to have vanished, and Hermione had well and truly had enough. She made a quick and efficient round of goodbyes, making sure to smile widely so no one worried, then finally waved to Draco who gave her a wink and turned back to the older witch he was conversing with.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the room and made her way to the Atrium. It was quiet here and the air was cool and crisp, now she'd given herself permission to leave, she longed to get to Hogwarts, back home. Quickening her step, she made it to the Apparition point, and with a twist and a crack, reappeared by the castle gates. The darkness and the cold took her off guard. It had been a light, warm evening when she had left. She hurried through the grounds, her heart beat faster to be alone out in the night, though she knew she had nothing to fear. The clouds moved and the moon shone through, lighting the grounds and making her pause. It was so quiet, so still, so peaceful. Abruptly, images of the final battle swarmed her, giant spiders, spells hurtling through the air, screams and jeers and dementors and blood, so much blood. For the first time that day, hot, salty tears fell from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. This time one year ago, she had fought for her life, for her friends, for her right to exist, and she had never been so afraid as she had been that day. Harry's limp body lying in Hagrid arms rose up in her minds eye, and the pain she'd felt in that moment crashed around her again. Her eyes sought out Dumbledore's tomb, just visible on the horizon. A year ago today Snape had had his throat ripped out by that cursed snake and almost died, alone on the dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack, and she had felt nothing at all except a horrified sort of revulsion. It was too much. She gathered up her dress and ran the rest of the way to the castle, not stopping until she had made it inside. In the entrance hall, she took several deep, cleansing breaths and wiped her eyes, then hesitated. She wanted ... she wanted so badly ... a noise from a floor above made her jump out of her skin. Shrugging internally, Hermione gathered herself, squared her shoulders and made her way to the dungeons.

She knocked on his office door. It was late, nearly midnight at least, he wasn't going to be happy with her. The door opened and Snape stood before her, still fully dressed and intimidating as hell. Only...

"You've been drinking." Hermione said, before she could stop herself.

"So have you." Snape countered.

"Yes." Hermione agreed, thinking of the glass of champagne she'd had in her hand almost continuously, and wondering just how under it's influence she truly was. "Please may I come in? Just tonight. Just this once. Please."

Snape looked her up and down. She was wearing a floor length gown, deep, midnight blue that sparkled when it caught the light. It had two thin straps and a straight neckline that showed what her mum would have called 'tasteful cleavage'. Her hair had been pulled back into a loose updo, with curls tumbling down here and there, and she wore plain black heels and a little makeup. She had deliberately left the scars on her neck and arm from Bellatrix's knife on display. She didn't like them, but they were a part of her now, and she had decided she damn well wasn't going to hide them to make other people feel more comfortable.

Silently, Snape pulled the door back and let her inside, hesitating and looking at her uncertainly before he opened another door, and let her into his living room. Hermione followed and stood awkwardly in the centre, unsure how to act now she'd finally been invited through the threshold.

"You're shivering." Snape scowled and held out his arm, robes flew through the doors to him. "Here." He threw them at her. "Sit by the fire."

Hermione did as she was told, wrapped herself in Snape's robes and sat by the fire, slipping off her heels and pulling the large black garment more snugly around her. She hadn't realised just how cold she was.

"Tea." Snape called, and a tea tray appeared on the coffee table before them.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered. "And I'm ... I'm sorry for the intrusion. It was just ... after all that glamour and mingling and smiling I just needed ... I just needed something real."

Snape gave her a look she couldn't begin to decipher, then poured the tea.

"You mustn't come here again, is that clear?"

"Why?" She whispered.

He hadn't said it unkindly, which almost made it worse.

"You mustn't."

"Okay." She agreed, as there wasn't much else to do.

Snape handed her the mug of tea and she cupped it gratefully in her hands, unsure how to proceed now he had made it so clear she wasn't welcome. Hermione looked around the room to have something to occupy herself with. Her jar of bluebell flames was still on the mantle, which made her smile slightly to herself. There were journals and quills on the coffee table, books on the end tables, and the far wall was lined with bookshelves, floor to ceiling. The room was dark, but not unpleasant, and she could imagine herself enjoying spending time here, if only it was permitted.

"You've been crying."

"Oh." Hermione raised a hand to her face self-consciously. "Only a little. Has my mascara run?"

"Just at the edges." Snape looked uncomfortable and ... concerned. Hermione did her best to wipe the corners of her eyes, wishing for a mirror.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry. I've been alright all day, it was just walking back across the grounds, the memories just..." Hermione trailed off, worried she might start crying again. "I'm okay."

"Are you?" Snape was staring at his hands, but his voice was soft ... almost gentle.

"I think so." She answered, just as softly. "All things considered."

Snape nodded slightly. The firelight made his face appear shadowed and serious.

"Are you?" She asked.

Snape looked back at her, his dark eyes raw, though his face remained impassive.

"I suppose." He responded. "All things considered."

Hermione nodded and they finished their tea in a silence that was only broken by the sounds of their breathing, and the crackle of the fire.

"What time is it?" She asked eventually, her eyes starting to grow tired. "It must be after midnight by now."

"It's just after 2:30am." Snape replied, looking at her oddly.

"Oh. It's ... it's over then. The anniversary. We survived, again."

"So it seems."

"I suppose I should go." She said softly, not wanting to leave the peace and quiet and safety of Snape's rooms, especially knowing she wouldn't be allowed back.

"As you say." Was all he said.

Hermione looked at him, confused by his response. He was leaning back against the sofa, exposing the pale column of his neck, his eyes half closed, looking more relaxed that she'd ever seen him. Surely he couldn't ... want her to stay? But she'd opened the door now, and it was probably wise not to overstay her welcome. She sighed, and stood.

"Goodnight." She murmured, slipping out of his robes, letting herself out and walking back to her rooms in a daze.

Our girl is making some progress :)