"Just ask her out." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You killed Voldemort's final bloody horcrux Neville, you can't seriously be scared of asking out a girl who clearly likes you."

"That's easy for you to say." Neville whined. "You're already in a relationship. And we don't know for sure she does like me."

"She absolutely does, Neville." Hermione said gently.

"She's been making eyes at you for weeks now." Ginny encouraged.

"But what if she says 'no'! Or laughs at me! Or what if she says yes but things don't work out and it ruins everything."

"Well firstly, she won't laugh at you." Ginny said firmly. "She's Hannah. She's nice. Like really nice."

"And I seriously doubt she'll say no. She's into you." Hermione smiled. "But if she does, or if you give it a go and it doesn't work out, then you keep things nice and polite and civil and move on. At least you will have tried, and at least you'll know."

"Hermione speaks from experience." Said Ginny, smiling as Hermione rolled her eyes. "And now, enough with the mollycoddling. I'm going to channel my brother. Neville, are you a Gryffindor or not?"

Sunday came around again. Hermione had for once managed to have a lie in and missed breakfast entirely. She enjoyed a raucous lunch with her fellow Gryffindors plus Hannah, who had said yes when Neville had finally summoned up the courage to ask her on date. The two of them had been joined at the hip ever since, and though Neville sat up at the staff table during the week, he was allowed to sit where he liked at the weekends. And besides, it was Valentine's Day, all the rules went a bit out of the window. Minerva didn't seem inclined to make a big thing of it, but the students who were in relationships were all using it as a chance to flounce their happiness. Even Ginny had proudly displayed her enormous bouquet of roses from Harry and been uncharacteristically giggly.

"Neville and Hannah are set. We need to talk to Luna about Draco, next." Ginny said to her quietly, smiling mischievously.

"Are you just trying to pair everyone off?!" Hermione asked, laughing. "I have wondered about those two, though."

"The fact that they look so similar freaks me out slightly." Said Ginny. "But I've had a good look at their family trees and I can't see any overlap so I don't think they're related."

Hermione blinked at her friend several times.

"Are you serious right now?! You looked up their family trees to make sure they're not related before you try and matchmake?!"

"Well you can't be too careful." Ginny said seriously. "The Malfoy family is one the Sacred 28 and the Lovegood family goes back a long way as well. We wouldn't want accidental incest."

"No." Hermione shuddered and tried not to laugh. "No incest is never a good plan."

"Exactly." Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled a little sheepishly, making her look years younger. "And I've got a lot more free time this year, you know, not having to keep up with school work, run Dumbledore's Army, protect the younger students and avoid torture as much as possible."

"Yes," Hermione had said faintly. "Yes NEWTs aren't exactly as challenging as the life we became used to."

"Exactly. It's good to have a hobby. Speaking of which, you'd better go and get ready to meet your hobby soon. On Valentine's Day. Very romantic."

Ginny had only laughed when Hermione had whacked her over the head with a discarded newspaper.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror as she wrestled the top half of her hair into a loose plait. Her face wasn't as hollow as it had been last year, but it hadn't filled out to the roundness it had held before they went on the run. She looked well though, and if she had selected her outfit more carefully than usual, colour coordinating her cloak, gloves and scarf, no one would know, and it certainly didn't mean anything. Neither did the light blush she had put on her cheeks.

He was already there when she arrived, still black clad, long haired, large nosed. Hermione smiled as she sat down and decanted the tea. Already she could tell that Snape was more relaxed this week, and the thought pleased her.

They sat in silence for a time, before Hermione felt comfortable enough to speak.

"Sir, may I ask you a question?"

Professor Snape turned to look at her, and Hermione felt the intensity of his dark gaze all the way down to her toes.

"I doubt there's much I could do to dissuade you." Snape said softly, his tone held a warning, but he didn't seem truly annoyed. "I won't guarantee you an answer though."

"Fair enough." Hermione smiled. "I've been thinking a lot recently about being muggleborn. How it's like ... like being a foreigner. No matter how much I read, there will always be cultural things that I won't know about unless someone tells me. Like magical, non magical animal hybrids. We were taking about them recently and I'd never heard of such a thing. I wondered if it's a similar experience for a half-blood? Or if you're ... exposed ... to the society early enough to be entrenched?"

Snape frowned and ran his fingers over his thin lips. It was a familiar mannerism. There was no reason for it to cause an acceleration in Hermione pulse.

"I suppose that would entirely depend on the half-blood." He said slowly. "My Mother made sure she taught me as much as she could before I came to Hogwarts. She was from a pureblood family so she taught me the customs and traditions as she had been taught them. I didn't come to Hogwarts feeling as if I was an outsider, so to speak. But she had to hide her magic from my Father and was cut off from her family and the wizarding world when she married him, so there were developments that had happened since her departure we were both unaware of, but nothing too major." He looked at her again, his stare laced with curiosity. "I never felt like a foreigner."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip and frowned.

"So it's probably a feeling most muggleborns can relate to, and only some half-bloods then, I guess." She said softly.

"Yes." Snape agreed. "And of course, almost all purebloods when they are exposed to muggle society."

"Oh." Hermione said softly. "You're right. I hadn't thought about it like that. Though most purebloods hardly want to engage in muggle culture."

"Perhaps." Snape countered. "But it's hard to say so definitively when most purebloods simply aren't exposed. They might be more willing to engage if they knew anything about it. Think of the Weasley family."

Hermione thought of Ron's excitement to use the telephone. Of Mr Weasley and his love for all things muggle. Especially the rubber duck.

"Good point." She said finally. "The worlds are so completely separate, with muggleborns and half-bloods the only things bridging the gap. How do purebloods even come across muggles?! Let alone get to know them well enough to marry them and have children?! Most muggles talking to purebloods would think they were completely barmy, not knowing how to drive or use a telephone."

"I actually don't know the answer to that." Snape said softly, smirking slightly. "My parents' entire marriage was a mystery to me, and I never asked them how they met."

"They're dead?" Hermione asked, without thinking.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." She said gently, pausing her train of thought momentarily. Snape shrugged slightly, looking deliberately indifferent.

"The gap between wizards and muggles will only increase as muggle technology develops." Snape's voice was quiet, thoughtful, and Hermione allowed herself to imagine he was enjoying their conversation just as much as she. "I grew up in the muggle world, but I have not been able to keep up with muggle development. In a few years, I will probably be nearly as inept as your average pureblood."

"I doubt that." Hermione responded, her voice firm. "And besides, you have been rather busy. I'm sure you could easily catch up if you wanted to. But that .. that is a thought, isn't it? I wonder if Muggle Studies should be made compulsory, from first year. It would give everyone the chance to learn about muggle society, it would make it easier for Wizards to blend in when they need to and give all Wizards at least the opportunity to challenge their prejudices. It would probably be useful for Muggleborn first years as well thinking of it, to give them a proper idea of just how foreign their culture is to the wizarding world and engage with their classmates. Then maybe after that they could get separate classes about wizard traditions and superstitions and children's stories, all the things they'd miss out on otherwise!"

"Perhaps take a breath before you decide to reform the entire school curriculum." Snape said dryly.

"Sorry, sir." Hermione felt her face heat in embarrassment. "I just got excited, you've given me so many ideas!"

"The ideas are not without merit, but think them through and refine them before you go knocking the Headmistress' door down."

"Yes, sir." Hermione smiled, pleased and perplexed by Snape's attitude. "If nothing else it might humble the more elitist of purebloods out there. I doubt Malfoy Senior would have strutted around with such arrogance and distain if he knew he looked like a cross between a pimp and a caricature of a cheap movie villain."

Snape barked out a rough laugh and Hermione stared over at him, utterly shocked. By the time she had had a chance to have a good look, his face had shut down entirely, and something about his shift in demeanour warned her not to say anything else. But she had made him laugh! He might seem angry and removed now, but she had heard it. He had laughed. And it was a beautiful, beautiful sound.

The following Sunday, Hermione bounded out to the grave full of anticipation and excitement. She had indeed finalised her plans for Muggle Studies and couldn't wait to run them past Professor Snape. It had been hard to keep her head down and her expression neutral all throughout Potions during the week.

Turning the corner that brought the bench into sight, Hermione beamed as Snape turned to look at her. Her smiled faltered and fell as she took in his expression. He turned away, and it took Hermione several heartbeats to gather herself and head over. He had looked utterly bereft. She settled herself on the bench and threw warming charms up around them, decanted the tea, and then placed it hesitantly next to him when he didn't reach out to take it. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, he was in a bad way. He seemed more lifeless than ever, his hair was hiding his expression from her, but his shoulders were hunched forward and she could almost feel the despair rolling off him. She hated it. Hermione frowned to herself and fiddled with the hem of her cloak. She felt utterly helpless. It certainly didn't seem like a good idea to try to talk to him. Perhaps simply being with him would have to suffice. She bit her lip. It didn't seem anywhere near enough.

Time slipped by and Snape made no move. He barely seemed to know she was there. Silently renewing the warning charms around them, Hermione Vanished the tea from his neglected mug and refilled it, shifting herself closer to him and placing it in his hands. Warmth. There it was again. Hermione glanced up at his face, her chest aching. He was staring at the base of the tomb and he didn't seem to notice how close she was to him, nor the mug in his hands.

Throwing caution to the wind, she closed the distance between them and let her herself rest slightly against his arm. When this wasn't objected to, she dropped her head to rest against his shoulder. Still, Snape said nothing and made no move to shake her off. Hermione's head tipped forward slightly and a couple of tears fell silently from her eyes. All she could do was stay with him, and hope her presence and her warmth was better than nothing.

Lying in bed that night, Hermione punched her pillow and tried not to cry. She had resolved to stay by Snape's side as long as he would let her, but as it had turned to night and the dark and the cold had settled in, she had felt it was no good to stay sitting there any longer. Her neck had ached, tilted against Snape's shoulder as it had been, and she'd become so cold and so hungry it made made her feel panicky and tearful, reminding her painfully of some of their worst nights on the run. Eventually she had stood, taking the mug of tea from Snape who had never touched it, and gathering herself to drag the man back to the castle if necessary. To her surprise, he had stood as well and begun to make his way back to Hogwarts without her intervention. She had walked next to him, her wand lighting the way for both of them, and glanced up at his face from time to time. The desolation she had seen earlier had been replaced by the dead, apathetic look she so despised, it was as if he was on another plane from her, unreachable.

Usually they parted at the entrance hall, but for some reason, Hermione had felt it was important that she didn't just leave him, and so she had walked him silently to the dungeons. He had started slightly when he'd turned to close the door to his office and found her standing there. His dark eyes had searched her face for several heartbeats, before he had shut the door, and left her.

Hermione rolled over and punched the pillow again for good measure. Now she was warm and fed, she wished she'd stayed out there, all night if necessary, anything rather than leaving Snape all alone, once again. She'd made a detour to the kitchens for food on her way back to her room, expecting to have to plead with them to forgive her and feed her after her misguided attempts with S.P.E.W, but the little creatures had taken one look at her, and she'd been on a stool by the fire with a big plate of chicken pie and mash before she'd even managed to say anything. Then they'd carefully avoided her. She really should go down and speak to them properly at some point, to smooth things out. There'd been several times she'd wanted to pop to the kitchens for hot chocolate and biscuits after a nightmare, but in that state she never felt up for a discussion on elf rights. She scrubbed her hands over her face and tried to force herself to relax. She had done everything she could for Snape, she really had. And probably more than anyone else had done for goodness knows how long. That thought only made her want to cry more. She'd asked the elves to send something for her Professor before she'd left, and they'd only looked at her disapprovingly before a larger elf with small ears had told her it had already been done and they knew how to look after the Master of Potions. Hermione had just blinked at them and wished, wholeheartedly, that she could say the same.

Minerva was staring at her, sitting at her desk with her hair pulled back in her characteristic tight bun. Her lips were pursed, which was usually a bad sign.

"You've stolen my thunder."

"Pardon?" Hermione replied, nonplussed.

"Nevermind. How would you get round the fact that magic makes muggle technology go haywire? I agree that demonstrating telephones and TV's would be engaging, but it's not going to work if everything is broken."

"Isolation wards." Hermione tried not to sound smug.

"Would they work?!"

"I can't see why they wouldn't. I'm going to test them in a couple of weeks by getting Harry to bring me a mobile phone, I'll put the wards up around it and then cast spells around it and see if it still works. But from what I've read, they completely block magic, so they should protect muggle objects. I was thinking a building on the grounds would probably work best. The hardest part will be getting the objects into the building, we might have to create a sort of, tunnel of wards to bring them in. But once the wards are up and the objects are in place, there should be no reason for them to break. They'll have to be strict rules around using magic in class, obviously, but that shouldn't be too much of an issue."

"And timetabling?"

"There's no reason for Astronomy to be a full time core subject. I'm fairly sure Professor Sinistra would agree with me and enjoy a bit of a reduction in her workload. Even if you kept it, but just reduced it to one lesson a week to begin with, it would clear up more than enough space."

"And what would I do with the muggleborns and the half-bloods while the purebloods were all learning about muggles?" Minerva was almost smiling.

"I think they should do at least one lesson a fortnight with them, it will be informative for them and they can help the teacher with demos. Some of the half-bloods might not be much more knowledgeable than the purebloods anyway, they'll have to be assessed on an ad-hoc basis. The rest of the time I think they should have their own lessons about Wizarding society, traditions, urban legends, social norms, all of it."

"That would involve a lot of money, essentially employing another full time teacher."

"Not as much as you think." Hermione smiled and handed Minerva a folder. "I've drafted it all out here, for you to add to of course. If Muggle Studies increases and Astronomy reduces it should about even out. So it would only be extra for the muggleborns to be educated on pureblood society. Except you already have a large staff, most of which are purebloods, use them. They have free periods and I'm sure most wouldn't mind doing an hour after class here or there. And if they did mind I'm sure they'd quickly get used to it. Plus we're in this new post war world, everyone is so keen to show they're part of a wider change and talk endlessly about making sure the same atrocities never happen again. Use that. Frame it as a key reform to bring about positive change and get funding from the Ministry. They should be able to give you enough to secure a part-time contract for a year or two as a trial, and to buy some of the equipment needed at least."

Minerva flicked through what Hermione had outlined.

"You're going to be an absolute force to be reckoned with, aren't you?" She said finally, her eyes twinkling. "Let me take a look at all this properly and come back to you."

"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione smiled warmly, already pleased with her response.

"I actually wanted to present an idea to you, dear, not the other way around." Minerva smiled. "Will you at least hear me out? Given what you've just pitched I might need to rethink, so this is just a working draft of an offer for now, okay?"

"Okay?" She felt curiosity fizzling through her.

"I wanted to offer you a Transfiguration apprenticeship with me, beginning the next school year."

Hermione stared at her, completely shocked.

"Given everything you've just pitched, I might amend my offer slightly and get you to help setting this all up. You'd be more than capable of teaching Muggle Studies from the off."

"Minerva..."

"Think about it, Hermione." Minerva said gently. "If you agree, we can work out curriculum and scheduling together. For now, just think about it. Shall we meet again in a few weeks? I'll have a proper proposal for you, and we can go from there."

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "I will think about it. Thank you, Minerva, truly."

Hermione woke the following night shouting from yet another nightmare involving Bellatrix. Since Ginny had brought up her torture, her mind had been forcing her to relive the experience in her dreams almost every week. She rubbed her eyes and absently stroked Crookshanks as he pushed his head into her arm, forcing herself to wake up fully. It was only Wednesday and she was exhausted. Her worry for Professor Snape had only increased as he avoided her eyes in class and carried himself with all the energy of a half dead slug. And then her conversation with Minerva had sent her mind running away from her. She'd barely slept since Sunday, and knew she was unlikely to sleep again tonight.

Sighing, Hermione summoned the Marauders Map and scanned the parchment. The dot representing Severus Snape was atop the Astronomy Tower once again, it was the only thing that looked out of place, everyone else was in their dormitories, as they should be. Not giving herself time to think, she shoved her slippers on, tied her dressing gown snugly around herself and exited her bedroom.

The castle was a little eery this time of night, silent and unmoving. The torches on the walls were burning low or out altogether, making the corridors unusually dark and the shadows fall unevenly. Hermione unconsciously held her wand in her dressing gown pocket and listened out for any sounds that didn't belong. Her heart beat faster as she ascended the stairs. It was weird that Snape spent time up here, Hermione thought pensively, but then perhaps he was paying his respects, just as he did at the tomb.

She pushed the door open and caught a glimpse of Snape's tall, tense form silhouetted against the arched windows and the starry night sky, before he whirled around and pointed his wand at her, his eyes wide and fierce with surprise. When he registered who was standing before him, his mouth twisted into a snarl, and magic crackled in the air around them. In a way, Hermione was pleased to see this rage, it was better, somehow, than the lifeless apathy he so often seemed to exist in.

"What do you think you're doing here?!" He shouted, his robes billowing behind him as he took a step towards her.

"I don't have a curfew, sir." Hermione said softly, sounding sheepish even to her own ears. "You don't technically need to be angry with me."

"I DON'T NEED TO BE ANGRY?!" He shouted, his voice rising. "I DON'T NEED TO BE ANGRY THAT YOU USED POTTER'S INFERNAL MAP TO FIND ME AND TRACK ME DOWN AND INFLICT YOUR PRESENCE ON ME, ONCE AGAIN, WITH NO REGARD FOR HOW I MIGHT FEEL ABOUT SUCH AN INTRUSION?! Your presumption, entitlement and arrogance truly knows no bounds, Miss Granger. Answer my question, girl. What do you think you're doing here?!"

"I'm sorry, sir." Hermione replied, immediately contrite. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that. I just wasn't thinking. I had a nightmare and I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep."

Snape stared at her, his eyes searching her face mistrustfully.

"I ... I just didn't want to wake anyone up and make a fuss. I wasn't actually seeking you out specifically, I just saw that you were up and I ... I just wanted..."

"You just wanted ... someone." Snape finished for her, his voice suddenly soft, and tears sprang into Hermione's eyes.

"Yes." She affirmed quietly, dropping her gaze.

Snape sighed and took another step towards her.

"Go to the kitchens and have a drink. Some house elves are always up, they can provide you with what you need: company and a distraction."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, turning to leave.

"What is it?" Snape asked.

"Sir?"

"You are unconvinced by my suggestion."

"Oh." Hermione looked back up at him. His face was impassive, but not detached, nor angry. "No, your suggestion is a good one, it's just ... umm ... well, the elves aren't very fond of me, you know, since S.P.E.W."

For a moment, it looked like Snape wanted to smile.

"Come." He said finally, and swept past her down the stairs.

Hermione followed him down to the kitchens in a daze. He had been right, to be angry with her. She shouldn't have presumed to seek him out, it had been a true invasion into his privacy, and goodness knows the Map must have been a perpetual aggrievance for him, back at school. When Sirius, James and Peter had used it to follow and torment him. A wave of guilt flooded her, she really should have stopped to think before she accosted him. Why he was being so ... understanding ... now baffled her. Unless, of course, he understood her impulse only too well.

Snape entered the kitchens and nodded to two elves who were polishing silverware.

"This is Miss Granger." He said softly, indicating she should step forwards. "As I'm sure you know, she made several misguided attempts to free elves a few years ago. She is older and wiser now and will not make any further attempts to free any of you or cause you any further problems. Isn't that right, Miss Granger?"

The elves were staring at her, looking wary.

"That's right." She agreed. "I grew up with muggles and had never come across house elves before. I'd seen an elf being treated very badly by his family and it upset me. I didn't understand what an honour it is to you, to serve. I wanted you to be treated well and respected, I still do, but I understand now that trickery and forced freedom isn't the answer." She glanced briefly at Snape. "I'm sorry for what I did, and I won't do it again."

One of the elves clapped their little hands together while the other jumped in the air, beaming.

"We is forgiving, Miss." Said the clapping elf. "We is happy you is understanding better now."

"Tell the other elves. None of you have anything to fear from Miss Granger anymore." Snape instructed. "Now, to business. She has had a nightmare. I trust I can leave her in your capable hands."

"Of course, sir." Said the first elf, ushering Hermione into a chair and throwing a blanket over her legs while the other brought her hot chocolate. "We is knowing what to do."

Hermione looked at Snape as he turned to leave. She didn't know how to express her gratitude for the enormity of what he had just done for her any better than she knew how to express her regret for her earlier actions. Perhaps whatever was showing on her face in that moment did it for her. Snape looked back at her before he closed the door, and one side of his mouth turned upwards, just a fraction, and his black eyes glittered strangely.

Then he was gone.

I can't tell if I'm moving things along too quickly to too slowly - if you have any strong opinions let me know!