Chapter 24

For the life of her, she can't comprehend why Harry and Ron stare at her in amused wonder when she stumbles into the drawing room.

'Are you dying, Hermione?' Ronald is the first to ask, slowly turning his head to Harry.

She watches them exchange looks, Ron to Harry, then Harry to Ron, then both to her, and still, she doesn't understand their curious wonder. Isn't it obvious? Don't they know anything? What's the one thing that she hasn't stopped wondering about since they all met up here today? And really, what do they think she's clutching over her heart?

'What happened, Hermione?' Harry asks this time, he, unlike Ron, crossing the distance between them to appear in front of her.

Wow, her friends are really that clueless. It's the reason why she only continues to eye Harry as he edges closer and his eyes stray to her hands. She didn't think it was possible for more curiosity to light in them.

'What's that?' he points towards her chest.

It's what she's been waiting for since she left him asleep with Luna at Hogwarts. It's what she's been pleading with McGonagall for since forever, and… Harry's easing the parchment from her chest and she doesn't care about that– she's just too emotional to try and stop him. If he could look inside her and see just how –

'He'll be there?' he asks, but before she can even think to nod and fling her arms around him to celebrate with him, Ron's voice stops her.

'What's it say, Harry? Who's going to be there?'

'Snape,' Harry answers, directly looking at her and most probably seeing her leaping heart reflected in her eyes. 'He's coming to the event tomorrow.'

'He is,' she finally whispers, both grateful that someone said it out loud, confirming it for her and so, so, so overcome with emotion that she can't speak louder than a whisper.

Severus is going to be at the event, which means that he is perfectly fine, and she'll be able to see him, to talk to him, and, if she's lucky, have a dance with him like she once did with Viktor and people stared at them…

'Snape?' Ron asks, sounding genuinely taken aback by the news. 'Isn't he at St. Mungos or something? What's he going to do there?'

'He has to be there,' Harry responds to him, saving her from even looking his way and give him an answer. 'It's like a prize giving event, and he's getting something, isn't he?'

'I know,' Ron answers, sounding a little defeated as he moves his feet towards them. 'I just figured that he wouldn't make it,' he completes once he's close to them. 'You said he wasn't better yet, Hermione.'

'I didn't know,' she answers quietly, looking from one to the other. 'I'm just now being told. McGonagall wouldn't tell me how he was, I told you.'

'Yeah, but...' Ron says, looking at Harry for a moment before returning to her. 'Does that mean that you're still...? You know... Snape?'

Had it been another time when she wasn't so elated and wholeheartedly looking forward to the event tomorrow, she would've found the irritation to snap at him with. She would've told him that feelings for someone don't just disappear like nothing over a few days, but being as relieved at the news as she is, she gives him a completely different answer.

'I'm going back home,' she tells them both. 'I'll see you all tomorrow night.'

'We're staying here together for the weekend,' Ron tries to stop her without actually touching her. 'You can't just leave us here. We promised to leave for the event together.'

They did, she looks at him apologetically. They had plans of spending the weekend together, putting Grimmauld Place in order and just really catching up after everything that happened at the battle, but next to the option of getting herself pretty for when she finally meets with Severus tops all of that.

'He's going to be there, Ron,' she reminds him. 'I can't just show up like it's nothing when I see him.'

She needs to look her best and that for the first thing, means choosing a completely different dress for the function than the robes that she'd been planning to wear.

'You've lost your mind!' Ron cries. 'You'd ditch us for Snape! You know this weekend's our last day together before our training starts? You won't see us again for months.'

Well, if they cared one bit about their education at all, they'd be returning to school with her, and then they'd have all the time in the world to be together. It shouldn't be that she has to sacrifice herself for their choices. Besides, she hasn't seen Severus in forever and she only wants to make sure that she's in order when they see each other. She wants him to look at her and be happy to see her too.

'Don't be like that, Ron,' she tells him rather. 'We're all sleeping here tomorrow night, remember? It's not like I won't see you at all. If you really want, I could meet you here when I'm finished dressing, and then we'll all go with one Portkey.'

'Yeah, but it won't be the same,' he tries to resist. 'You're still ditching us for Snape.'

And he's whining, gosh – but even that won't dampen her spirit. What's even the matter with that? Should she feel bad for wanting to look pretty for her…? For Severus?

'But I'll see you tomorrow,' she says with finality, and as soon as she does, a small smile touches her face at the very Severus-like tactic to avoid further discussion; considering her dislike for it, who would've thought that she would use it on someone else?

'You've lost your mind,' he answers, although with a defeated smile and then turns to Harry. 'She's lost her mind, isn't it?'

'Leave it, Ron,' Harry chuckles. 'We've never had luck against Snape, have we? She's always defended him from the beginning.'

No, she hasn't, she tries to stifle a smile, and even if she has, this is different; Severus' going to be at the event.

'You don't understand anything,' she fondly responds, and what they don't is that he's going to come, and gosh, she has so many questions. 'But I'll meet you here tomorrow, I promise,' she says, just then pulling her letter from Harry's hand and then turns to leave.

'You better come!' Ron announces after her, and as excited as she is to leave, there's just something that pushes her to spin back and dash back to them.

In no time at all, she's slightly pushing Harry out of the way and throwing her arms around Ron's neck. A happy squeal leaves her upon the contact, the impact of it apparently infecting him to burst out laughing, his resulting vibrations passing through her chest and making her hold onto him all the more tightly.

'Thank you, Ron,' she expresses with all sincerity.

Then just like that, she pushes out of the hug, quickly soothing her withdrawal with a chaste kiss on his cheek before heading out and leaving for sure this time, taking all of her excitement with her.

26Chapters

In her room, she's safe.

Safe to slide down her closed door, with one hand clutching McGonagall's letter over her heart again and the other clamped over her mouth to keep her squeal trapped inside. And safe to feel all of her emotions without worrying anyone with her manifestations.

Oh, she could die! She could die! She could die!

She's so, so, so happy, she thinks behind closing eyes as her head backs against the door.

Severus is going to be there! She'll see him!

She wonders, how is he? Did and does he miss her? Is he properly healed? Is he happy to be alive? Did he rather prefer dying than living? And the Dark Lord, how does he feel about that? Will he be happy to see her? Does he even want to see her? Will he even be allowed to speak with her at the event? He always looks to see if she still has his protection, so will he be able to do that? Will they get a moment alone, just the two of them? Despite having been inside the Ministry more than once, she isn't sure that there will be a private space without surveillance to host them.

Oh, she'd like to jump into his arms, and hear his call her Miss as though it's her given name.

Miss, she hears his voice inside her ears, a fond smile spreading across her face; she wants him to say it just like that, in his own special way.

My darling too, she wouldn't mind if he referred to her as that, though he rarely does.

And she can't wait for him to wonder if she's still got his protection – he always does that. He'll study her and ask her to stay still for his diagnosis...

Aah, her heart sings, she just can't wait for that moment.

Before that, though, there's something quite important that needs to be done. She has to gather all of her money, both Muggle and magical, then visit each and every shop, both Muggle and magical, to find the perfect dress for the event. She promises herself that no matter the price and no matter the amount of time that it will take, she will not come back home unless it's with the most perfect of dresses.

26Chapters

Well, she smiles just the tiniest bit to her reflection in the mirror, now no one can ever tell her that she's never made an effort towards her appearance. She made more than an effort, to be honest, but…

Her eyes travel all over herself in the mirror, and as much as she likes what she's done, both to her hair and the dress, she cannot help it be worried. There's so much to worry about, mainly, how he will see her. It won't matter to her if in her eyes she looks decent, and beautiful to someone else's eyes, if to him, she will simply look dressed and nothing more.

Maybe, she reasons, she should've invited her mum to help her along with getting ready. Had she not been so stubborn about doing this herself and wanting to have his full approval on what she's put together by herself, her mum's older and experienced eye would've advised her on the sort of dresses that men appreciate to see; what if she's overdone it?

Look, her eyes start at the top of her dress, her dress has no support - no straps to hang over her shoulders, neither sleeves of any sort to wrap around her shoulders and keep her bare skin covered. What if he won't like that she's exposing so much skin from her neck to just about the start of her breasts.

She'll admit it, yes, that she looks good with her olive dress beginning just there, gently sloping over the moderate valley of her breasts and then dipping down her chest, closely pasting over her flatness to then extend to the sides just a tiny bit, that way accommodating her slight hips, but what if he isn't impressed by it? What if he looks at the deliberate detail of the two belt-like ribbons, stretching from one side of the hip to the other, one below the other, and sees it as something too child-like? She quite likes how the flat ribbon details act as dividers for her small upper body and less small lower half.

Her eyes lift up to look into her own eyes, and she smiles at herself, appreciating how good she looks. But it's only for a moment, because as her attention drifts back to her lower half, following the smooth flow of material down her legs to where a modest slit begins just above her left knees, doubt begins to fill her again, making her smile fade into a frown. It's not too big and scandalous a parting, seeing as her leg is barely visible, but what if…?

She wants to prove herself an adult with this dress, hence all the missing extensions and such, except, what if she's pushing too far beyond the lines of what is acceptable? The majority of witches there are bound to be dressed in good robes, and here she is, wearing a very revealing dress with only a long zip at the back as the glue keeping it on her body. Gosh, she couldn't even wear a bra in this dress, and the panties that she bought for it, are not the ordinary full coverage that she wears on a daily basis. She chose a much lighter and smaller pair that wouldn't stick out below her dress, as tightly attached to her as it is.

Oh, she returns her eyes to her own, looking deep into them, why didn't she just call her mum?

'Muuuum!' she whines to herself in the mirror, her face contorting with light torment and a smidgeon of blame for herself.

Now, when there are only two left to the event and she's due to get to Grimmauld Place, she's getting the sense to cry about her appearance? She's been at this since the earliest this morning, and only now she's thinking of solving this crisis?

'Aaaaaah! I'm so stupid!' she bites onto her lip after scolding herself. 'Muuuuuum!'

'Hermione?' someone calls from outside the door.

Her eyes immediately bulge out and she straightens her posture, pulling herself up to full height, rearranges her face and with one last look in the mirror to make sure that she doesn't look like she's going through a crisis, she then spins around and faces the door.

'Dad?' she answers back.

'May I come in?'

Instead of answering, she stretches her hand out towards the door and begins to magically pull it back to invite him in.

'I was coming up to see if you are ready yet,' he says as the door moves back, 'and I heard you speaking. Is something the matter?'

'No,' she quickly answers, knowing that it's a lie, but also not wanting to put any pressure on her dad at so late a time, when they will also be travelling to the Ministry with her.

If she's got any complaint, then they will have to delay themselves a bit more to accommodate her, and that wouldn't be fair to them – they've been looking forward to going to the event and meeting other Muggles with magical children.

'You are ready then?' he asks just as the door stops moving and both come into full view of the other.

'I am,' she answers, gulping, despite her worries.

'You are,' he replies, agreeing with a small nod and showing her the biggest smile ever. 'You look extremely beautiful, Hermione.'

She's touched. He's her father, and he's also a man, so his opinion is everything of a comfort to her, but still, she needs the last bit of assurance for him, just a little bit of a kick to give her all the needed energy.

'Do I really look all right, Dad?' she asks, one hand moving to play with her curled hair, but careful enough not to ruin the definition of them.

'Absolutely beautiful,' he heartily responds, eliciting a grateful smile from her.

If her dad feels that way about her appearance, then she truly hopes that Severus will think so too. It would mean the whole world to her if he does, and in that case, she'll wish for the night to go on and on and never end.

26Chapters

Her nerves are honestly the most irritating things in the whole world. They haven't stopped announcing themselves since she first entered the hall. All through showing her parents to sit at a Muggle friendly table and then finding her designated table with Harry and Ron, they refused to be quiet, rather insisting that she look around to find Severus.

She did - gosh, she did.

She continued looking around every few minutes, hardly paying much mind to the chit chat around her, but even so, her nerves are still pressing her. She wishes that they would stop being so prominent, forcing her to fiddle with her hands like this in an effort to distract herself. Where is he even? It's nearly time for everything to start and –

'Harry told us about you and Headmaster Snape.'

Luna, she recognises; her voice is quite distinct, carrying such understanding most of the time that it cannot be missed. In this instance, her statement, as intrusive as it is, soothes her just the tiniest bit, just enough to relax her hands as she turns to look at Luna.

'What did he say?' she wonders, pulling a breath and looking around again.

To who exactly did he say it? And when will Severus get here?

'He said that Headmaster Snape would be coming and that you would be waiting for him,' she's told, to which she nods, not giving Luna much attention.

That isn't anything to be worried about, she reasons. And knowing that her friends are in a sense sensitive to her hope and expectation, makes her feel fewer prickling nerves than before. It's good, she guesses, but it would be even better if Severus showed up.

'He looks truly handsome,' Luna dreamily remarks. 'I have never seen him look like that before.'

Only nodding absently, she agrees. Harry's never worn a suit before, and it took a little convincing on her part to buy one, but yes, he does really look nice. Ron also looks good in his formal robes. Actually, the three of them look their best ever.

'Look for yourself,' Luna urges, going as far as to touch her face, although not physically steering her attention that way. 'He's at the entrance.'

'Hmm?' she looks at Luna, confused at why she'd need to look at Harry.

'It's Headmaster Snape,' the other girl smiles at her, and no sooner than his name is said, she snaps her head in that direction.

With her heart racing, birthing all sorts of emotions as it does, she springs onto her feet for a better view, and truly, he's there.

'Luna,' she whispers, her breath catching afterwards as an overwhelming emotion gushes from her heart.

He's over there; he's here.

All those times that he uttered, 'You're here' to her, this is how he truly felt?

'He's here,' she quietly sobs, her left hand coming up to cover her mouth.

'Hm,' Luna agrees next to her. 'He looks handsome.'

More than that, she wants to answer, but her throat won't allow her to.

Rather, her eyes block out all of the other movement at the entrance to focus only on him and track his every small movement. When he stalls just a step inside, his eyes roaming over the hall, her own take him in, strict not to lose sight of him. When he seems to visually linger in one direction, she steals a glance there, curious to see what's caught his attention. She can wait as long as it takes for his eyes to wander to her, but if only other people didn't get in the way of that.

Can't she just run to him and take his attention away from them, though?

He once said that he isn't ashamed of her, but even so, they're in a formal setting and should allow him the room to move around first. He does just that, her eyes follow. As McGonagall comes into view, reaching out her hand for him, he allows her to wrap it around and wrist, and as simply as that, he's walking along with McGonagall, away from her direction.

'Hermione?' Luna gently calls as if she understands what she's going through.

McGonagall hates her, she painfully swallows, ignoring Luna. The woman knows how much she wanted to see Severus, and she does all that? Taking him to a place among officials and engaging him in talk before his eyes have seen her?

'Come on, let's sit,' Luna advises, tugging on her arm.

There's nothing else to do for now, she silently accepts, her face turning to Luna. At least he's here now, she consoles herself; it'll only be a matter of time before they speak with each other at last.

26Chapters

It was the longest time of her life sitting through the speeches, acknowledgements, acceptances of loss, award giving, and finally, a closing word. To her, it felt like the closing word took up more time than all of the other portions together, because wow, the master of ceremonies wouldn't conclude. That was, until a short moment ago. A moment ago when she wasn't the first person to spring onto her feet, startling those around her and making her way to the opening floor.

Along with her increasing steps, people begin to rise from their seats and tables begin to move on their own, creating an even wider space for dancing.

Like that, her movement is not in the least anything of interest to anyone, as more and more people move around to find dancing partners. Her only wish is that no one gets to Severus before she does, because if she has to watch one more person interact with him that isn't her, she will break down and cry right in the middle of everything.

Or maybe not, she realises, stilling right there out of pure disbelief, because if her eyes are seeing correctly, he's close to reaching her. He's so close – if she just takes two small steps...

'Always with the tears,' he greets her with, possibly disapproving of it, but she only hears the familiarity of his unique welcome.

'I missed you,' she replies, but no sound comes out, which makes her think that she really is crying.

She doesn't care that she's crying, though. She knows that he hates it when she cries, but she can't help it apparently. With him stepping close into her, looking as impeccable as he does, how can she not cry? How can she not –

'Headmaster Snape,' someone behind her speaks, and more shocked than anything else at the suddenness, she rounds to the person.

'Ginny?' she gasps.

'What?' Ginny quickly dismisses her. 'We're here to speak with him,' she nods to Severus, then keeps her attention there. 'It's good to see you, sir. We've been worried about you.'

They've been? She wonders this while watching Ginny move in between her and Severus. When? Because as far as she knows, they never knew anything about her and Severus, thus didn't even consider if he was dead or alive.

Because of that, and that Ginny's reaching out to pull him into a hug, she lets out an incredulous laugh, looking around her to see if she's still in her right mind. When she finds the rest if the group surrounding her, she rubs her forehead with doubt. Is she in some sort of dream?

'Miss Weasley,' Severus' voice redirects her attention back to them, and surely, by his displeased expression, she isn't dreaming.

It seems that somehow, they followed her, but for what? If Harry really told them about her waiting to finally see Severus, then it should be an open secret that she's dying to have a moment with him.

'What are you doing?' she asks Ginny, who completely ignores her and rather reaches out for Harry, squeezing yet another person between her and Severus.

'Harry would like to greet you, sir,' she says, directing Harry's hand to his.

Ever unimpressed, Severus looks the part, and not just that, he eyes Harry's hand as though it's poison waiting to kill him.

And that's when she decides that Ginny hates her.

Harry did shake Severus' hand while they were on the stage. They didn't speak, but everyone saw them be civil towards each other for their respective awards. Ginny saw that, so what is she playing at? She looks at Harry for support – he at least saw her fall apart when the letter from McGonagall came.

'Harry,' she pleads.

'Fancy a dance, Harry?' Luna suddenly asks, and though she doesn't insert herself between them, they all turn to her. 'Hermione's growing quite impatient with all of this,' Luna looks at her. 'Aren't you, Hermione?'

Luna loves her, she thinks while she nods. Luna's the only one who understands her from beginning to end.

'Come, Harry,' she urges with a held-out hand, which Harry takes.

She notes the apologetic look that he gives Ginny, but at least he steps away with Luna, leaving only Neville, Ginny and Ron.

'Ron,' is all she says, because he should know better.

He looks at his sister and they seem to communicate something and that is when he steps in between her and Severus, his hand held out.

'Oh, uh... Yeah,' he looks at his sister first, then at her. 'Professor, it's good to see you.'

'Please go,' she begs her friend, since Ginny clearly has an agenda.

Who even cares about her opinion on her and Severus? If this is her trying to keep them apart, then she'll be dealt with.

'Who am I going to dance with?' he asks her.

'Your sister!' tightly leaves her mouth. 'I don't care! Just go.'

At this rate, she's going to die.

'Bloody hell,' he mutters and goes anyway, taking his protesting sister with him.

'Sorry, Hermione!' Neville bows to her. 'Congratulations on your merits, Headmaster.'

'Longbottom,' he acknowledges.

Neville doesn't need more prompting and just leaves right away, which gives her the room to step even closer to undo all the damage that Ginny did. Gosh, she's so relieved. Finally, she can be alone with him.

'Tell me, am I such a terrible sight that you continue to cry at my appearance?' he asks, amusement decorating his tone.

She scrambles to wipe her tears away, not wanting to look a mess to him, but she finds her cheeks dry. Maybe her eyes are just filled with tears then.

'My friends are idiots!' she responds, explains her supposed tears, actually.

With a smile and the last step to bring them body to body, he wonders, 'Haven't I told you that for years?' to which she answers with a laugh and while she does, his right hand finds her waist and stays there as he asks, 'Are you all right to dance?' with his left hand waiting for hers.

'I'm so happy to see you,' she whispers, taking his hand and placing the other on his shoulder, steadying herself. 'But are you really all right? Are you fully healed?'

He brings her attention back to his face when he puts one hand on her waist, lightly pulling her to him and still keeping his hand afloat for her to take, which she does.

'So they tell me,' he grasps her hand, squeezing it gently.

'You don't believe them?' she wonders with worry, her mind already running to all the things that she could've done wrong.

Is that why he looks like that? Was it because of something that she did or didn't do?

'It's you, Miss,' he tells her. 'Did you never learn that your tears weaken me so? Hmm? Will you not spare my heart and rather smile? Did you not just assure me that you are overjoyed to see me? Behave so.'

'I am,' she nods. 'I'm only – I always cry.'

'Hmm,' he agrees. 'Yes, you are so very yourself.'

And so is he, she smiles faintly and closes her eyes to savour him being himself. If it was just the two of them, she would lay her head on his chest and hold him for the longest Seeing as she can't, she smiles again and allows him to lead them in a dance. It's strange how even though she has so much bubbling, with her emotions barely fitting inside her, there's too much of an overriding comfort in the silence of them simply moving to the sound of music that she just lets it be.

'Have you been well?' he starts, his face set in a way that's characteristic of his concern.

'Didn't you read my letters?' she wants to know, because in them, she explained herself quite thoroughly.

Nothing about the past days has been about her. If she didn't sleep or eat well, if her mind was less focused than ever, and if she's been emotional, it was all in concern for him and his life. But if he's asking now...

'Didn't you get any of them?'

He's the sort to do many things, but when it comes to pointing out her traits and things that make her up, he usually doesn't spare her, hence her doubt.

'No, I did not,' he answers, giving her waist a light squeeze. 'Minerva is a wretched witch of a woman, who only just told me about the letters that she has been holding.'

What, 'How could she?!' she softly outrages, her eyes quickly darting to find the woman.

'She did,' he informs her like he isn't surprised by it. 'I have a defining meeting with the board of Governors and then another with the staff tomorrow and she promises only to hand them over later tonight as ransom to attend those meetings.'

'Why?' a frown develops on her. 'You're the headmaster. She wouldn't need to force you to attend any meeting. You're obligated to have many meetings regardless.'

Frowning, he asks, 'When was your last communication? She hasn't mentioned my role as headmaster to you?'

'No,' she says, along with the wonder if McGonagall was somehow advised by Dumbledore to be that way. 'She's only said that you were fine and healing well, nothing else. She's been ignoring every question I had about you, actually, that's why I wrote two letters to you.'

'And yet she allowed Sybill to send me flowers,' he muses, unimpressed by the sound of it.

What, she used that piece of information? When she told McGonagall about Trelawney being his friend, it was because she wanted him to at least have a visitor while she couldn't be there, and that was what she chose to do with the information? Well, at least Trelawney cared enough to take him some flowers while he was in the hospital – that was really thoughtful of her, but...

'Were they nice flowers?' carefully leaves her mouth, when what she really wants to know is if he liked them, and more than that, if he would've preferred to get flowers from her instead.

'I didn't want flowers,' he answers her straightforwardly. 'It was Minerva who made her own decisions concerning what I was allowed to.'

It seems so, and it seems like McGonagall really does hate her. Why else would she keep her letters away, then use them as a bribe?

'How could she?! I trusted her,' she says, very irritated, to which he faintly smiles.

'Then, please, by all means, steal her feline food and avenge us,' he tells her, no hint of a joke in his tone. 'Starve her as she did us during our time apart.'

Us, her mind repeats and her stomach lurches at it.

It's one simple word, and yet it's everything perfect that he could've said.

Him speaking about them together, as an actual team against someone else, is everything. So much so that she only stares into his eyes, keeping her eyes there so that she doesn't cave and lean her head on his chest. He, on the other hand, doesn't make do with simply looking her in the eyes and leading her in a dance, no. He expertly tightens his hold on her, pulls her just that little bit closer to him and she swears, the entire hall disappears to her; it's just him and her together now, as though leisurely in private.

'I missed you, Severus,' she manages to speak after a quiet while of admiration and dancing. 'I was extremely worried about you. Are you really all right?'

'Yes,' he nods, smiling just the smallest bit. 'Though I was prepared to fall into it, thank you for rescuing me from death's pit.'

She quietly shrugs in response, feeling her throat begin to constrict, because she never wanted him to thank her for responding to his attack. It was that she couldn't and still wouldn't let anything like death take him from her life.

'My gratitude for the victory as well, of course,' he continues upon her silence. 'Without your part, many of us wouldn't be here.'

It wasn't only her, which is why she refuses to take more credit than is hers by answering, 'We all did our parts, Severus. You did more than I've been able to do. It can't have been easy pretending to be on the Dark Lord's side.'

'Hm,' he sounds with a nod, but where he should follow it up with confirming his difficult position, he rather seems to take half a step back to eye her entire length appreciatively. 'Your dress is very lovely. As is your hair,' he then remarks, instantly flattering her to giddiness.

'Thank you,' she replies – she wonders if she's blushing. 'I wasn't sure that I looked all right.'

Despite her father's assurance and her mum repeating what her father had said, she still wanted him to be the one who likes her dress after all.

'Hmpf,' he softly exclaims, raising an eyebrow. 'Which pair of eyes hasn't strayed your way more than once by now? In fact,' he seems to look over her shoulder, 'it would seem that Weasley cannot look at anyone who isn't you.'

'That's not true.'

'I do not lie to you,' he says seriously. 'Look over your shoulder if you doubt me. He is currently on his way over here, no doubt to dance with you.'

And just like that, as if his words were a proper warning, he releases all hold of her, stepping back from her too. Her shocked, breathy 'Severus' doesn't make much of a difference to him. Well, except for the simple bow to her before turning away from her.

'Do you even want to talk to me?' she whispers urgently, not wanting to cause a scene with him, but he turns back anyway, giving her a very specific look. 'You're just leaving,' she answers his look. 'Why can't you stay with me?' because it's not fair that he apparently can't.

Not having gone further than a step from her, he easily retakes that step, bringing him right where he'd been before releasing her, and while he doesn't touch her, his eyes tell her that he wants to.

'My obligations are what they are,' he tells her gently, his eyes never straying from hers. 'I would rather that they were not, however, they are. Bear it, please, until we can have our own time.'

But why must she always be the one to make sacrifices? She did that all through everything that happened, understanding that they couldn't really spend normal time together. There were times when she held herself back, knowing that the time and circumstances weren't ideal for them, but now…

'I understand you perfectly,' he softly nods, 'but for my sake, only bear what you must until we are no longer sharing our time with the rest of the wizarding world.'

'I've waited so long,' she partly chokes, because even remembering the agony of waiting all that time feels like a stab deep into her heart.

He nods as if he understands her perfectly, saying, 'Then you are capable of bearing it still.'

She is, it's only that she can't accept it. Capability isn't the same as acceptance. He has no idea how sincerely she's waited, then how much effort she put into looking pleasant tonight just for him. How is she still supposed to keep waiting when no one else interests her here?

'Severus...'

If she isn't this close to breaking into sobs, she's more resilient than she could've ever imagined.

'I feel unbearably beautiful things for you tonight in particular,' he gently replies to her plea. 'Do not doubt it, only bear the waiting for a little more. Our moment will come.'

Does he promise?

Her eyes search his, thoroughly checking for the slightest flicker of hesitation in them, but she finds nothing more than his steadfastness. When he politely bows his head to her a short breath afterwards, much like he's signing an agreement that he made for them, and turns away to leave, she's left glued to the spot without words of protest. If not for Ronald coming around to her with a sheepish smile, she wouldn't have recovered enough to move.

'Wanna dance?' Ron offers, never losing his smile.

'I've danced enough, thank you,' she shakes her head, just then looking over Ron's shoulder at Severus now being intercepted by a witch in a beautiful maroon dress robe; will he dance with her?

'We haven't danced, me and you,' he says to her. 'Come on, Hermione, let's dance.'

'I don't want to dance,' she responds, only briefly looking at him before she's back to looking at Severus talking to the maroon-robed witch.

What she wants is a quiet place where it's just her and Severus, where they can just talk with each other and be alone. She's missed him so much, been worried about him more than she's missed him, and she just doesn't want to dance right now. Not with Ronald anyway.

'But I came all the way here,' he replies like that has something to do with her, but if he was going for her full attention, his method was a good one.

'What is it?' she stares at him with deep irritation. 'You couldn't have waited? I could dance with you any time!'

'It's not me,' he shrugs somewhat apologetically. 'Ginny doesn't want you to be alone with Snape. She's going mental with how much she's keeping an eye on you, honestly. I dunno what she thinks will happen if you stand next to Snape, but she's bloody annoying for it, I tell you.'

'We were only dancing!'

'Yeah,' he agrees, also tipping his head to the side, 'and talking, and smiling, and he kept moving his one hand on your back a lot.'

'Oh, shut up!' she says, wishing that he was Ginny instead – that nosy girl! 'I'd love to you see dancing with someone you like and not see all those things.'

'Yeah?' he seems to tease with a light smile, and then holds out his hand for her. 'Let's see.'

Huh?

'See?' she wonders – just what is he up to under Ginny's influence?

'Yeah, let's dance,' he suggests, just then placing his other hand on her waist while still waiting for her to take his other.

Like that, and especially since another glance over Ron's shoulder shows Severus already dancing with the witch, she's left with no choice but to accept his hand, put her other on his shoulder and begin moving with him in a dance. It's not like it was with Severus, she immediately notes; from the way that he's holding her, to him not being her person of interest in the least, it's all so wrong. Heck, even their silence isn't quite as easy as it should be, it feels too tangible and not perfectly settled between them. Because of that, she once again looks over Ron's shoulder to see where Severus got to -

'Pay a bloke some attention, would you?!' Ron breaks through her thoughts, making her quickly return to him.

'I'm sorry, Ron,' she apologises, because she really doesn't mean to ignore him, it's only that, 'Your sister is doing a rubbish thing to me. I only want to talk to him. I don't know how he is, and everyone keeps coming between everything. Why does everyone suddenly care about him? It was never like that! They're being like when all those girls found out about Harry being the Chosen One. They didn't care before, and now all of a sudden, they want to talk to him and be nice to him. The lot of pretenders!'

Pretenders is even too nice of a word for what she really thinks of them. She rather thinks all of them opportunistic to the cores!

'He's famous now,' Ron calmly tells her. 'People generally like famous people. You've been friends with Harry for years, you should be used to it by now.'

'Harry's not Severus,' she rebuts, 'and anyway, it's completely different to compare the two of them. Harry's been well known all of his life.'

'Yeah, but you still should be used to it,' he insists. 'I get it, though. You're really mad for Snape, isn't it? Both good mad and bad mad?'

Somehow unsure how to respond to that, she only looks at him, and he, seemingly realising an error, begins to explain himself.

'I don't mean any offence, it's still a bit off-putting and all, to be honest, but you are, aren't you? Like, I dunno, you'd be willing to off someone for hurting him or something like that?'

'I really do like him,' she confirms with a small nod.

'Why?'

He sounds genuinely intrigued, and honestly, she cannot blame him for it. It's such a thing of a phenomenon when looked at on the surface that she would be remiss to fault anyone who wonders about it.

'Because...' she answers, going back to looking at Severus dancing with someone else. 'I just do,' she completes.

Ron's just going to have to accept that, because she's not going to explain it more than that.

26Chapters

She didn't realise how upset she'd gotten until just now, walking up to the table and seeing Ginny happily chatting away with Neville like she's an innocent angel from heaven instead of a conniving little fox.

'She's shameless!' she seethes, making a hasty move forwards, only Ron holds her back.

'Leave it,' he advises, but he doesn't know what it's like, does he? 'You can't scream at her in the middle of everyone, can you? It'd be awkward!'

'I won't scream at her,' she partly lies. 'I just want to talk to her.'

Sceptically, he wonders, 'Yeah?' looking from her to Ginny and then back again.

'Yes,' she partly lies again – if that's what he wants to hear, then she'll admit to it. 'I'll only talk. Please take Neville and go.'

Again, Ron gives her a sceptical look, clearly not trusting her to stick to her word, but she couldn't even pretend to be bothered about it. All she ever wanted was to have some time with Severus, and all that's happened so far is everyone else getting in the way of that, Ron included, so he shouldn't be so fast to think that his scepticism will deter her. What's he going to do anyway, keep her from having time with Severus?

'Okay,' Ron agrees, reluctantly, it sounds like, but she doesn't care to appease him more, she rather shows him towards the table, silently urging him to get Neville so that she can be alone with Ginny.

As he walks the last steps to their table, she waits. She waits even more when he bends over to speak to a seated Neville, and continues to wait as he says something brief to his sister, whatever it is drawing both of their attention to her. It's only when he and Neville begin away from the table that she makes her move forwards, taking three large, impatient steps to the table where she crossly folds her arms before Ginny can say anything.

'What's going on?' she demands. 'What's your problem? Why do you keep interrupting everything with me?'

'Ha!' Ginny mockingly exclaims as she stands up. 'I saved you, that's what!'

Is she mad?

Her eyes study Ginny all over, albeit briefly, and all that she can conclude that this girl's fully mental!

'Saved me from what?' she demands again, highly dying to hear the supposed save, and not only that, she wants to know where Ginny gets off sounding so self-righteous?

'Ha!' Ginny exclaims again, adding a little snicker this time as she brings her hand between them to show her a small, barely-there space between her thumb and forefinger. 'You were this close to snogging Snape!'

When? She barely got two seconds with him!

'I wasn't!' she protests, quite offended and then slaps Ginny's stupid illustration away.

And anyway, who even gave her the details to her relationship with Severus? Harry might have told them to be nice to Severus for her sake, but she doubts that he told them about their actual relationship – he just wouldn't do that.

'You so were!' Ginny counters, suddenly grabbing her arm and pulling her to sit down beside her.

'You're mad,' she tells Ginny, because she really is; she's mad and seeing things that aren't there.

'You're the cuckoo one,' Ginny begins, at least sounding calmer. 'I didn't believe Harry when he said that you were looking forward to seeing him, but as soon as I saw you look at him at the door, I knew it! You fancy him, don't you?'

So, wait... Ginny thinks she was saving her from further fancying Severus? Is that it?

'Ginny...' she tries, except the right words fail to come to her mind.

'Don't deny it!' Ginny shows her sly smile, like she understands. 'It wasn't that hard to figure out when we all joked about Snape being your favourite at home. Look,' she turns serious, 'I'm sorry for interrupting , but I only did it so everyone doesn't find out about you and him that way.'

'I don't care what people find out,' she answers honestly, and the implication that she might is completely wrong – she would never be ashamed of Severus, never!

'Okay, fine,' Ginny rolls her eyes, 'you don't care, but I do. Besides, I plan on staying with Harry at Grimmauld Place tonight.'

'So?' she cries in disbelief. 'What does that have to do with me?'

And Severus, she's careful not to add. Those are two completely unrelated things.

'Duh, Hermione, think!' Ginny grabs her hands as if that will help somehow. 'Mum won't let me go to Grimmauld Place if you're not there with me, and if she finds out that you fancy Snape, she definitely won't trust you either. She'll think you've lost it, and then I won't be allowed to go anywhere near private with Harry.'

'Ginny, are you mad?' she croaks, her disbelief affecting even her voice. 'Why would I want to - ?' right there, she abruptly stops herself before the words, 'spend tonight at Grimmauld with you lot when I can spend it with Severus?' slip out of her. Although in all honesty, that's how she feels! In which event would she choose them over staying with Severus?

'I know that you're already staying there tonight,' Ginny responds. 'Mum also knows, that's why she trusts you to be there and keep us responsible. I told her Luna will be there as well because we arranged a surprise party for Harry and Ron before their training.'

'You didn't need to stop me from talking –'

'To Snape?' she laughs mockingly. 'It's only Snape. You'll go back to school and see him all the time. It's not the same with me and Harry. Come on, Hermione, you know their training starts on Monday. I want him to know that we have something stable while he's away and I'm at school. He's being so slow with everything, you know. I'm ready to you know, shag, and I don't want him to leave without doing it with him.'

Shag, as in sex?

Her eyes bulge out in silence while her heart races away at the thought of sex, actual sex being something that can and might happen with all of them from now on. She means, yeah, she's thought about sex here and there, wondering about it, but...

'Ginny…'

'Please, Hermione,' she clutches their hands together, 'it's Harry. If you really fancy Snape, then you have to understand me!'

Okay, yes, she understands, which is the only reason that she nods, but she'd had no plans on having sex with Severus tonight. Even now, all she really wants is to spend time talking to him. They could kiss and hold each other as well, but she'll be okay with just a long conversation.

'See?' Ginny smiles, probably feeling a little more than victorious and letting her hands go to straighten up in her seat. 'I love Harry. I don't want him to leave without knowing it.'

Love is shown through sex?

She doesn't know any better, and she can guarantee that neither does Harry when it comes to love, but as far as she knows, she's never slept with Severus and he loves her regardless. And another thing, if Ginny's ready like she says, then it's fine, but she knows Harry. Harry's not likely to turn her down if she suggests it, it's just that she feels like Harry would rather spend more time with Luna than with any other girl. If sleeping in the same bed as Luna after the Dark Lord's defeat wasn't proof enough, him spending five full days at Luna's house afterwards is. At this point, he hasn't been to the Burrow yet.

'You're sure that's what he wants?' she tries to fight for Harry.

'He's a boy,' Ginny rolls her eyes, 'and all boys like the same things. Besides, Harry's dense with that sort of thing. I was thinking that I could just take a bath and come out naked. I figure that way, he'd know what I want.'

'Maybe talk to him first, Ginny,' she tentatively suggests, her eyes roaming around the room for Harry. 'What if he's not ready?'

'He's going to like it as well, you know,' she replies with finality.

Maybe, in her head, that'll compensate for him not being ready, but that's not necessarily true. Ginny's always been a bit faster than Harry, and truly, she doesn't know if Ginny hasn't already slept with a boy.

'I just need you to stay away from Snape for a while. Look, he's having a blast talking to Trelawney anyway,' Ginny points behind her and she turns, wildly looking to find them. 'Trelawney probably wants to shag him now that he's something.'

'They're friends,' she corrects, because even though she doesn't like that woman, and she probably never will, the truth must be spoken.

'How do you know?' Ginny asks suspiciously, steering her attention away from them and back to her.

'I've had lessons with him for years,' she firmly explains. 'I've seen them.'

'Aha!' Ginny lights up at once. 'You see! You'll go back to school and see Snape all you want during lessons. Harry used to have lessons with Dumbledore, so you can have some with Snape. You'll be seeing him more than I'll be able to see Harry during the school year. Why's tonight so special? It's not like he's particularly interested in you.'

All right, firstly, that stings. As false as it may be, it very much appears like it, and since it does, it's not that hard to disprove when someone points it out.

Secondly, why must she be the one to make sacrifices for everyone else? She's done enough of that for so long, and she just doesn't want to anymore.

'I'll owe you one, Hermione!' Ginny tries to convince her. 'Whatever you want, whenever you want, I'll owe you one. Just keep away from Snape until we leave.'

'Okay,' she accepts at last after a small sigh, to which Ginny quickly jumps up, excited to the maximum.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm going to tell Harry about staying at Grimmauld Place.'

And then Ginny's gone from the table, leaving her alone to think about what she's done. Honestly, maybe she shouldn't have fought Ginny so hard when even Severus told her that they couldn't have time together while surrounded by all these people. Actually, she might be able to see Severus later tonight while Harry's with Ginny, and then -

'I'm sorry, Hermione.'

She recognises the voice behind her, but more than that, she likes the sudden feeling of relief that's just come over her.

'Hi, Luna,' she turns back to welcome her.

'I heard you and Ginny talk,' she says, 'I was standing there, but I didn't want to be rude. You're really coming to Grimmauld Place? I'd rather not go if I'll have no one to talk to. I don't usually mind being on my own, but I'd rather I wasn't alone there.'

'I don't know,' she says, meaning every bit of it, because while Ginny did make the point of her being able to see Severus when she returns to school, there might be the option of seeing him later tonight.

'You want to be with Headmaster Snape,' Luna states with no trace of wonder. 'It would be nice to spend time with someone you like, I think.'

Yes, it would be nice to spend time with Severus tonight, although...

'Is that why you're going to Grimmauld?' she wonders, studying Luna carefully. 'Luna, you do realise that Ginny and Harry will be there? Together?'

Inasmuch as they haven't returned to that conversation about her liking Harry, they both know that there's something between her and Harry that only those around them don't know about.

'It's all right,' Luna nods. 'I never expected anything from Harry.'

With a nod, she acknowledges Luna's confession, fully understanding her. It's clear now that they've all apparently entered adulthood, where compromise is an actual thing, choices are hard, feelings are weighed against consequences, and individuals becomes a part of a larger group of people who have to be responsible despite their personal struggles.

For that reason, she chooses to make yet another sacrifice, asking, 'Do you really want me to come to Grimmauld Place with you?'

'That would be nice,' she smiles. 'Thank you, Hermione.'

Yeah, she bitterly accepts, it's not as though she has somewhere else to be.

26Chapters

Other people kept her busy for the rest of the night, that she's managed to keep her word to Ginny so far. Luna kept her company for the most part, and if not Luna, it was Neville or Ronald. Harry also spent some time with her, and by the time that she finally went to her parents, they were ready to leave, hence her escorting them out of the hall.

'Did you enjoy yourself?' her mum asks, looking at her between them.

Because she didn't, she only shows them what she hopes is a deceptively positive smile. No matter how sourly the night went, it wouldn't be fair to involve them in it and ruin their ruin as well just as they're going home.

'It was a wonderful affair,' her dad seems to agree.

'Especially meeting the other non-magical parents,' her mum bounces back to him, a little laugh following her appreciation.

'Yes. It is rather nice to have similar stories about our children and experiences with magic.'

'I'm happy that you enjoyed it,' she answers with all sincerity.

'We did,' her father says, putting his arm around her. 'We're also extremely proud of you.'

'Thank you,' she humbly takes it, and for a while following that, they only walk on in silence until her father turns to her.

'Did we hear correctly?' he begins. 'Mr. Snape, he's the headmaster of Hogwarts?'

Oh, right, that.

'He is,' she answers, though not without her breath hitching.

It's that when she told them about Dumbledore's death, she'd been adamant that McGonagall would be the next head of school. By the time that she found out about Severus being the headmaster, she didn't go back to tell them about it. Also, she's a little more than apprehensive that they're mentioning him as they're leaving. How should she take it? Well, if their looking at each other then nodding is something important to go by...

'He's a good man,' she adds for a bit more of their approval.

Again, they only give each other looks and nod. After that, her father draws her into a hug from the side, which, though comforting, isn't what she really wants. After everything that didn't happen, she would've at least liked for them to assure her that they don't mind her liking Severus. That would've soothed tonight's pain a small bit, but what is she going to do, fight her parents to affirm her relationship according to her will? No, it's pointless, not to mention selfish. Since she's already started giving in to what others want instead of what she wants, she might as well extend the courtesy to her parents.

'It was truly a pleasant night,' her father tells her as he pulls away. 'Thank you for including us.'

'It's all right,' she answers, but inside, their refusal to speak about Severus is hard to swallow.

It's not only them, sadly, theirs is just the final screw tightly drilling her misery in. It wasn't supposed to be like this, though, not one bit.

26Chapters

Very carefully, so as not to make noise enough to disturb everyone else in the house, she climbs out of bed. There's no point to her being in bed when she hasn't been able to close her eyes and fall asleep. She might as well go down to the kitchen and have something to eat until… She doesn't know, maybe she'll just sit in there until the morning… She isn't sure, she'll only see. It's not as if she can do much of anything else anyway.

Or maybe she's being too dramatic about all of this, she reasons as she reaches the end of the bed. It had been a good night, she even got to share a dance with Severus, and that's far more than she's been able to have in the last ten days. She shouldn't have difficulty sleeping and she shouldn't be in the process of disturbing people who are probably asleep, but then her eyes catch her dress laid over a chair and all she knows is sadness.

It was all a waste.

All of her effort, all of her hope and all of her anticipation was a painful waste.

It's so painful to remember how quickly she tore that dress from her body for a pair of pyjamas. It's even more painful to recall how desperately she wanted to forget that she was ever part of the celebrations, by gathering her lose hair into a rough bun and burying herself under the blankets to make it seem like she never was at the event. It was supposed to have been a happy night, but instead, she came back with a heavy heart, stripped herself of the reminders of it and still couldn't find sleep no matter which way she turned and what boring thing she tried to think of.

There's nothing that she can do now, she brings herself to reality, and so quickly strides out of the room to the kitchen. To her surprise, Harry's in there, staring into space as if...

'Harry?'

She's as much surprised as she is confused by him sitting at the kitchen table like he is, when he should be with Ginny. It couldn't have been more than two hours since they all separated to their own rooms.

'Hermione?' he's apparently just as surprised as she is. 'Aren't you asleep?'

Isn't he supposed to be in bed, asleep with Ginny? After sex, aren't they supposed to be sleeping close together and hugging in their sleep? It's what she understands happens after sleeping with someone.

'I couldn't sleep either,' he answers too tiredly, to which she nods as she moves to sit next to him - since neither of them can sleep, they might as well sit side by side, going over everything keeping them awake.

'How long have you been in here?' she wonders, thinking back to the time when she'd sat in here after Bill's wedding until time stopped existing for her.

'I think I made a mistake,' is his reply, dark in tone and heavy in delivery that it seems to drop like a light explosive between them.

'What mistake?' she questions, genuinely lost as to what he is referring to, even angling herself to face him in her seat for a better visual perspective.

'I, you know...' leaves him, his eyes staring down at the table for a second before lifting them to hers.

'What?' she prods, which apparently makes him turn away from her to instead blankly look out into the open space.

'I slept with Ginny and… You haven't ever, you know, done that, have you, Hermione?'

'No,' she tentatively shakes her head.

It's not her place to talk about this with him. If Severus was the one unhappy with her or something that he did concerning her, she wouldn't like it if he spoke to someone else instead of her. She doesn't know what happened between him and Ginny and she won't ask, but from the sound of it, Harry didn't speak to Ginny first.

'You and Snape didn't...?'

'No!' on that, she doesn't hesitate. 'When would we have found the time?'

'During school,' he shrugs, genuinely it appears. 'I don't know.'

'Harry, that's not allowed,' she explains. 'It's against the rules. Students aren't even supposed to.'

'Ron did.'

He did?

Her surprise must show on her face, because he nods as if answering her and then says, 'He didn't really tell me. I just sort of found out from Ginny tonight. Anyway, I thought it would be the best with Ginny. She spoke about it like... I don't know,' he dully confesses.

He doesn't need to elaborate on that; she was there when Ginny spoke about it, she'd sounded so convinced that he would like it as well, that she needs to ask, 'You didn't like it?' just to be sure that Ginny wasn't mistaken.

'It was nice for a bit,' he agrees but with a shrug. 'I've never felt anything like it, but afterwards...' his head shakes as he continues to look at nothing. 'I feel like rubbish saying this, but I felt like I made a mistake afterwards.'

Hearing that, or rather, catching Harry's potent disappointment, she simply dissolves, it really feels like she does. Maybe she's wrong and it's something else, but this sudden weakness all over her, added to the unsettling of her heart, really feels like she dissolves. Her drooping posture doesn't help steer her from thinking that way.

'Did you want to do it, though?' she gently asks, needing to know, but not wanting to make him feel exposed.

Depending on whether Ginny pressured him too much or not, the entire topic could be a very sensitive thing for him, and she wouldn't like to make him feel worse than he sounds to already.

'Yeah, I guess,' he looks at her at last, giving her a small smile. 'It's normal, I guess. It's supposed to happen like that, isn't it? After some time of having a girlfriend, we're supposed to do that, right?'

Actually, she was brought up to believe in doing the right thing, and that sex was best saved for marriage, so she can't completely agree with it. She can't completely disagree with it either, because she has her own mind and isn't opposed to having a real relationship, whatever it entails. In the end, she only shrugs, that way communicating her stance on it.

'I just feel a little bit empty…' he confesses, 'It's like I took something from myself, Hermione. I'm supposed to be happy, I think. I'm just…'

'Empty?'

'Like I gave something away, and I can still live without it, but…' he laughs, wryly at that and then a defeated, 'What have I done, Hermione?'

She doesn't know. She's so sorry about that, but she doesn't know. How could she know?

'And Ginny?' she wonders, partly biting down on her lip. 'Is she happy?'

At the very least, maybe he did make Ginny happy, even if it was at his own cost. She doesn't think that will make it better for him, but it might.

'I don't think so,' he laughs again, his eyes glazing over as he looks into hers. 'It didn't take very long and then we were just quiet. I didn't ask her, really. I pretended to fall asleep.'

How horrible, she secretly gasps. Not just he pretended to fall asleep, but also how it didn't go as Ginny planned. Everything sounds to have gone horribly, like Harry overwhelmed himself and crashed, then recoiled into himself because of it. She feels so sorry for him, and worse, she doesn't know how best to comfort him. She swallows down hard, trying to get rid of the constriction there, except it doesn't budge.

'I'm sorry, Harry,' she settles on finally.

For not knowing what to do or say. For not worrying about him enough earlier to warn him about Ginny's plan and for joining her in being unhappy. She looks at him and proper words fail her. His eyes, once so alive with relief at no longer having to worry about the Dark Lord and excitement for Auror training, are not shining with tears of uncertainty and possibly, the first real taste of what it's like to involve himself into adult situations before he was ready to.

'I'm really sorry,' she adds, because it might not even get better for him for a while, being as different as he is.

In response, he moves towards her, leaning his head on her shoulder and just then, warm droplets of liquid seep through her thin pyjama material, letting her know that he's crying on her shoulder. Not knowing what else to do, she shifts and wraps her arms around him for any sort of comfort that he might get from it.

'Aw, Harry,' she whispers as she feels tears slip down her cheeks.

They're for him especially, but they're also for her and for Ginny and for Luna and even for Ron. It seems that not even one of them got what they wanted at the end of the night. Grimmauld Place was their worst decision, after all, it's caused everyone involved a level of disappointment and heartache. How she wishes that she could go back in time and redo all of tonight.

Tonight hurt so much.

26Chapters

A little later, just passing three in the morning and still unable to sleep, she gets the brilliant idea to get up from bed and summon Kreacher. From tonight's happening, she's learned that in life, things do not always go as planned, that interruptions happen, and that she will sometimes just have to take risks without knowing the outcome.

Deciding to call for Kreacher so early in the morning, is the risk that she's ready to take now, come what may and what may not. After barely speaking to Severus, Ginny getting the way of anything that lead her remotely close to Severus, sacrifice what little of the night she could've taken to be with Severus for Luna's sake, and just a while back feeling terrible for Harry, what horrible word could Kreacher throw at her that will hurt her and upset her night more than those things already did?

'Kreacher,' she calls him right away, robbing herself of a preparatory breath and a proper second to consider her choice again.

Magic continue to bless elves, she silently relieves as Kreacher appears instantly at the foot of her bed, even if he is making a horrible face at her, saying nothing to offer his assistance.

'I'm sorry for disturbing you,' she preludes to his waiting stare. 'I wouldn't have asked, and I feel terrible for asking this of you so early in the morning, but could you please take me to Severus?'

Kreacher can say no if he wants, but she would prefer it if he didn't do anything that'll force her to use being a witch to demand that he does what she's asking. The simple thought of commanding him to do something as though he is a lowly creature, makes her feel horrible, and so she softens her anxious expression to rather show him an apologetic smile.

She's nearly a hundred per cent sure that he'll say something disparaging to her, according to his contorting face, which is why she prepares to hear horrid things when he quickly shuffles to her side. What happens, however, is his long hand grabbing hers, and before she can register the coolness of his skin, before she even blinks, her eyes are taking in a dimly lit room. Hardly a second later, just as she's thinking how familiar the room's appearance is, a soft pop sounds next to her, followed by a mellow, 'You're here,' from her immediate left.

Effectively surprised by it, she stills, her whole body freezing except for her eyes which hurry to find him in the room. They easily find him not too far left of his bed, shirtlessly sitting back in a chair with his ankles crossed, and parchment held up to his eyes. Then only, at the full sight of him, does her breath catch, and briefly, she briefly wonders if she's dreaming. For one thing, Kreacher really brought her without a fight? And for another, that's really Severus? She can't be dreaming, though, can she? He said something to her… Something that only he would say...

'Severus?' she tests her lucidity in as loud a whisper as she can manage, her right foot lifting just a bit for when he responds. 'I didn't wake you, did I?'

'Hmpf!' he softly replies, a small smile starting on his face, rapidly spreading into a teasing one by when he asks, 'Did I appear to be sleeping?'

No, but she isn't sure that he's really real, and she needs him to be. Also, now that she's here and he's probably real, should she have come to him? Who knows if after being bombarded by so many people at the event, maybe he would've liked to stay alone until he couldn't bear it anymore. Now that she's here, she realises just how inconsiderate she is to show up like this for no other reason than telling herself to take the risk of seeing him. He mentioned having two meetings today, yet here she is, possibly getting in the way of his preparation for them, considering that parchment in his hands.

'You didn't wake me. You've done nothing wrong,' he tells her as if reading her new doubts from start to finish.

'I just came without asking,' she tries to explain her reasoning.

'Hmm, so you did,' he heartily agrees, just then beginning to fold up his parchment. 'I recall Molly mentioning that you and your friends would be spending the weekend together.'

Instead of telling him the long truth, she answers, 'That's what she thinks,' to put an end to it, because she won't explain that she couldn't sleep and so she came here, to him.

Intently looking at her, he nods, gets up from the seat, places his parchment on the chair, and then seems to stop himself from making another move. Unless it's too dim for her to properly see, he nearly took a step forwards.

Whatever his reason for stopping himself is, she isn't infected by it. In fact, she suddenly feels drawn to him by it, that first smiling to herself, she begins walking to him. All in one, she's nervous and excited, she also can't believe that finally, she's alone with him. Everything went wrong last night, every one of her interactions with other people felt incomplete and fruitless, but this, she won't make a mess of.

A breath away from him, she stops, mentally calling herself to order and beginning a short countdown in her head to prepare for the ultimate leap into his arms. She's taken by surprise, however, when he suddenly leans down to kiss her, her stomach swooping in tandem with his caressing lips. Almost like her balance was disturbed, the sensation makes her sway a little bit, pushing her to quickly find his arms for something to hold onto, but he pulls back then.

'You are indebted to me,' he tells her, his eyes studying her face well, like he has to catch every detail for his life's sake.

She looks back at him, wondering what he means, quite unsure if she did something wrong that nearly cost him his life, or if she ruined his wand somehow.

'You assured me a night,' he smoothly clarifies. 'Have you forgotten?'

Oh, that, she thinks in relief, even letting out a small, relieved breath before telling him, 'I'm here,' just so he understands that she would never forget something like that – even though it had completely slipped her mind.

'You are,' he seems to breathe in as his eyes leave hers to rather roam all over her.

She watches them travel up to her hair, then down to her neck where they linger, making her hold her breath for as long as it takes for him to shift his eyes to her red pyjamas, and then finally back to her face.

'You sleep like this?' he wants to know, and though she nods her answer, she can't understand why pyjamas as her sleeping attire would make him ask her that.

Her answer comes shortly after, not in the form of words, but the action of his hands reaching out to frame her face in them. For a fraction of time, his hands remain framing her face, the tips of his fingers lightly pressing into her skin until one hand slides to the back of her neck while the other pushes stray stands of hair from her face. Silently watching him all the while, she notes something significant happen to his eyes; they grow bit by bit, claiming a deeper touch of intensity with each bit.

'Severus?' she dares to break his deliberate silence as she needs to know if something's wrong.

It's not that she finds his gaze unnerving, it's that she wants to know what he's thinking while looking at her like that. Usually, she can assume what he's thinking when he looks at her, and there've been times when she couldn't read him, but this is different. He's glad to have her here, that she knows, but she also just needs him to say something that explains him to her.

'You'll sleep here?' he asks at last, and again she nods her answer, which is apparently all that he needed to smile at her, the warmth of it reflected in his eyes as they wander back to hers.

And then he bends his head to give her a second kiss on her lips, softly nudging them apart for absolute indulgence. This kiss, unlike the first which flustered her too much to respond to, she surrenders into, allowing it to melt her apart in pure pleasure. Like so, her arms move up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to her and securing the continuation of their delicately appreciative kiss. He lets out a small groan at that, stilling for just a tad with her lip caught between his, breathing for a bit.

Not long after, he regains himself, resuming their kiss as though it was never paused, and where she continues to savour it, his hands travel past her shoulders, down her sides, pause at the now-exposed skin of her waist, to then slip under her buttocks and hoist her up to his level. With his hands' guidance, her legs wrap around him naturally, drawing a small, appreciative hum from him. For the simple fact that he makes such a sound, she begrudgingly pulls away from the kiss, unable to resist smiling at him as their eyes meet.

He's adorable.

As he is, saying nothing, gripping her bums and staring into her eyes as he is, he's simply adorable, so... She likes him so, so much. Maybe it's love, maybe it's more than that, all she knows is she's so happy that they are finally alone together.

'I'm happy,' unintentionally slips out of her.

She didn't mean for it to, but it did, and she is happy. Even with him just staring at her, not responding with words, she's happy in his hold. So happy that she tightens her arms around him, burying her face into his neck where it will hopefully stay forever and ever, and ever. He, on the other hand, doesn't share her idea, because he pries her away from his neck for their eyes to meet again.

'Are you truly happy?' he gently wonders, bringing his hands back to her face.

Leaning into his delicate touch, she answers, 'I am,' without hesitation.

'See how you will convince me of that without your tears,' his thumbs brush her cheeks, lightly caressing them.

'You don't like it when I cry,' she answers.

Following that, he brings her head down to touch his forehead, and she swears that there's something very specific that he wants to say, it's only that he can't bring himself to say it. In its place, he pulls in a breath as the hand on her neck tightens, pulling her closer still, and still, she feels like he's holding something back.

'I am happy here with you, Severus,' she says deliberately - maybe that's what he needs to hear – leaning in further, their noses touching now and just as she's breathing him in, liking their closeness too much, he pulls them apart again, moving quickly and setting her on her feet to simply look at her with such…

What can she name that on his face? She can't say that he will cry, neither can she say that he isn't on the verge of tears, then there's that brilliance in his eyes... And now his hands… They're moving to the hem of her pyjama shirt, lifting it up… Right then, she closes her eyes, feeling her heart begin to run away from her at the thought of him doing what she thinks he'll do. She lets him do it, nonetheless, holding her breath through it until he nudges her to lift her arms. Only then does she dare open her eyes, because there's only skin underneath the shirt, nothing else.

As their eyes come into contact, she finds the same brilliance from before, unchanged and all for her. She's never seen him quite like that with her, but somehow, it's encouraging... Encouraging to lift her arms, to wait for him to return to her shirt and bear the shirt getting stuck on her head as her hair gets in the way. She can't resist closing her eyes and biting down on her lip in slight frustration, though – just, what a mild annoyance! It's assuring at least, that he doesn't say anything about it, except gently tug the shirt over her until it passes and she opens her eyes to his patient gaze.

He doesn't look the least bit inconvenienced. In fact, his eyes start at her collarbones, down her shoulders from what she can follow, linger at her breasts so much that she's forced to try and decipher what he is thinking... Resist the sudden feeling to shy away from his eyes, especially when his throat moves as he swallows, more than once, and she just cannot take it anymore; she steps back from him.

'You're just quiet,' she timidly brings up, which is too weak and too dependent, but it's how she feels. 'I don't like it.'

She really doesn't. Rather than staying quiet, he should say something to her, anything at all. Still though, he only lifts his eyes, offers her a reassuring smile, right after bending to kiss her while his hands settle on her naked waist. Though his kiss is slow and delicate, and like a weakling, she kisses him back just the tiniest bit, her mind thankfully kicks back to functionality, making her pull back from his kiss, pushing away from him by using her hands on his bare chest to then stare at him imploringly.

'Don't just do that,' she complains like a small child – she wants to cry already, to which he returns his attention to her eyes, nodding, understanding even.

She really doesn't mean to be childish and immature, she only wants to know what he thinks about her body, so he can't just look at her once, say nothing and then kiss her like she's supposed to know what he's thinking about her body. Not even his finger grazed her breasts when she knows that men like breasts. In spite of his nod, he reclaims her waist, lifting her up again and pulling her legs to wrap around him as he tips his head back. Her hair falls around his face as a result, and like that, she's left with no other choice but to brace herself on his shoulders, even though she won't let it go.

'No, Severus,' she tries to explain what she means. 'Say something.'

'You didn't hear me when I appreciated your dress earlier?' he asks, smiling at her like she's only being silly.

'That wasn't –' she begins only to break off at him kissing her chin... Keeping his lips there and her eyes drifting closed, enjoying the –

No! Her eyes shoot open.

'Severus, no,' she regains herself, pulling her head away to look him in the eyes before he distracts her again. 'Please just say something.'

Whether he's seen better breasts or he's all right with her being as she is. He only needs to say something.

'Nothing has changed,' he concedes to say, as much with his face's expression s with hands which softly wander her back.

'I don't - I don't know any of this,' she resigns to confessing. 'How am I supposed to know what you're used to seeing, and if I'm not like that?'

Of course, she didn't come here thinking that he would see her breasts, but it looks like they will be doing what Harry and Ginny did, so she must know what to expect. There's a worry in her that she'll become like Ginny, getting invested in what's supposed to happen, only to end up like Harry, disappointed with herself for doing it just because it happened that way. Fine, she's not sure if things like this should be planned in advance, and maybe that's why she's nervous for his opinion now, but… It's not the first time that she's naked in front of him and he must've seen his past girlfriends naked, and better looking than her, so he should bloody well say something before she asks the ground to swallow her up.

'I'm not used to seeing a single thing, Miss,' he replies, placing a small kiss on her cheek afterwards.

Still, it seems like he thinks that she's being silly, especially when he kisses her other cheek, and then her chin, followed by an expected one on her throat that her breathing stops. Oh gosh, he's so good with delicate kisses of unusual spots – she'll melt in a few seconds if he's not careful with her; which she can't afford to do by the way, not when they haven't settled this.

'Please Severus,' she groans, keeping her eyes tightly closed, all the while pushing herself closer to him despite herself. 'Just tell me.'

Is she a failure when it comes to the body that she has?

That stops him in a way that she didn't think he could be stopped, for he completely pulls away from her and returns her to stand before him, with a step backwards on his end separating them. Even if she didn't want to open her eyes, the suddenness of his actions wouldn't have let her.

'And I?' he asks her, completely confusing her if not making her question what she missed between his kisses and her pleas.

'And you?'

In a swift response, he gestures to his bare body asking, 'Am I what you expected?'

What, he means his naked chest or upper body?

'I didn't expect anything,' she says a little too strongly, although that's exactly as strongly as she feels. She feels a little offended, actually. 'You're you and that's all.'

She likes him, not parts of him while excluding some. Besides, she didn't have thoughts about him like that, and even if she did, it's not like she's one of those people who have a particular liking for a particular thing. She usually just likes someone as they are, whether attractively perfect or not.

'Then explain yourself,' he patiently presents to her, his demeanour very composed yet inquisitive.

Oh. Her thinking didn't take her that far. How stupid is she that she couldn't figure it out that if she can like him just as he is, he can perfectly do the same without any expectations.

'I'm waiting,' he urges, stepping close to tilt her chin upwards so that their eyes meet.

'I just want to know,' she replies, all of a sudden feeling foolish for being so needy. Could he just kiss her chin again and make her forget about her foolishness. 'You've lived longer, Severus. I just wondered about the other relationships that you had and if I'm...'

Good enough.

It's Harry's fault. Well, a little bit of it is. He apparently planted strange seeds in her head that she didn't even realise took root and now she's here, doubting Severus like he always accuses her of doing. He only has to mention it, to make it true this one time.

It's beginning, she notes, he's shaking his head and releasing her chin with twitching lips...

'You will find, my darling,' he gently delivers, 'that not every person desires to have meaningless relationships in their lifetime. As you should know, that I am one of those people. I am not the sort to waste my time on something not worth my interest unless forced upon me for the sake of duty.'

That's good to know, she breathes out. Honestly, she doesn't care that he had other relationships before her, although, that she's who matters now, is good to know. It makes her nearly glad that she behaved so immaturely before – it got her here, didn't it?

Even so, 'So it's only me now?' comes out of her before she can catch herself despite feeling better – it couldn't be helped.

'Was that not what I said?'

No, that wasn't precisely what he said, so he mustn't think her that crazy for wanting to secure her place. She has to know where she stands and how she stands there; if behind Harry's mum or singular to him.

'Just say yes,' she tries to smile, just in case it lightens

'Yes,' he delivers after a sudden, strong burst of laughter.

'Just s-' she stops, realising oh, he did say it - she's so used to him saying no that she automatically assumed that he did it again.

'Only you,' he assures her smoothly, that doing away with all and every uncertainty that she never realised to have.

More than that, when he raises his hands to her shoulder, as they slide down her arms and divert to her exposed breasts and he swallows, she gets the courage to reach out for him as well. As shirtless as he is, she isn't sure what to do, and so she looks up at him, waiting for his instruction on what to do. He only smiles encouragingly at her, giving her the room to do what she wills, apparently just as he's tracing soft lines under her breasts as if waiting for something. Thus, she readies herself, telling herself to forget about the planning and knowledge that could've gone into this, to make it easier for them, and tentatively tries to touch his waist just above his trousers.

'I'm –' she begins and stops herself in succession, darting a quick glance at him to see if she's ruined anything yet.

She was about to confess that she doesn't know how to do this, that she really needs for it not to turn out how Harry and Ginny's did, but he's trusting her to do what she wants, doesn't he? Was that not clear to her, his hands leaving her chest to support her wrists as though to keep her fingers on him says it for it. It rekindles her courage, which translates into the solid confidence to free press her palms over his skin and feel it.

'Hmm,' he agrees like he's taking a wonderful breath, and when she gives him a small, thankful smile, he expertly draws her into him.

Her entire upper half follows the momentum created for it to fall into as her chest makes contact with his and their lips meet in a seeking kiss. Within reason, her body relaxes into his, feeling a sense of welcoming into his private space at the same time that one of his hands carefully winds around her, landing at the base of her naked back. It settles there for a comfortable moment, only kneading the soft flesh. As per his lead, she also moves her hand to the back of his head, holding him close for them to never come apart again. It's as though he reads her mind, the way that he picks her up and begins to walk them somewhere...

Immersed in the kiss, fully intoxicated by it, she barely knows what's going on around her anymore except that she can feel him all over. On her back, touching her. On her lips, nipping at her. In her mouth, his tongue leaving ever-so-provocative sensations. In her heart, reaching deep and caressing the most hidden parts. In her stomach, turning it upside down. On her skin, oh, on her skin, setting it ablaze with bearable fire. Gosh, gosh, gosh!

When she comes to discover that he's set her down on his bed, it's because he draws away from her, leaving his hair to hang between them and block him from her eyes. Being as ready to get back to feeling him all over, she quickly reaches up to brush his hair away, the thrill from before still thrumming in her veins, but then finding his intense, concentrated gaze and hearing his long, partly laboured breathing, quiet panic begins to whisper doubt to her.

What if she's not any good at it?