Snape threw himself into a chair and pretended with all his might not to be visibly touched by Hermione's gestures. He watched in brooding silence as she conjured a tray with tea and biscuits and set it on a small side table between them. Snape had been so sure that everyone had gone to sleep in Gryffindor Tower. He'd done a detection charm on the common room before settling down to wallow and it had come back clear. He'd forgotten about the prefect. Of course, it had to have been Granger. Snape's mouth curled into a bitter scowl. She'd tell Potter right away and the Golden Trio would bask in his humiliation. He definitely needed to wipe her memory of this.

She took her seat across from him and poured the tea.

"How do you take-?" She hesitated with the milk. And the sugar.

"Black."

"How did I know?"

"Because you're a genius." His eyebrow quirked—tiredly.

Hermione gritted her teeth at his curtness that she interpreted as an absence of gratitude. She poured a cup of piping hot tea and handed it to her professor. Hermione watched as he took a sip. Snape swallowed self-consciously as he felt her eyes on him. He set the cup onto the saucer and cleared his throat.

"Are you feeling better?" She inquired, her eyes focused on him.

"Miss Granger," he said, "I don't want to talk about this."

"It seems that you're feeling better."

Snape said nothing and looked at his teacup.

"My mum always says that talking through your problems helps," Hermione resorted to cheerfulness. "It always helped me. I remember once when I was still at my muggle school I didn't get the top mark on the exam like I usually—"

"My problem cannot be cured by talking," Snape muttered.

"I think any problem can be solved," Hermione said earnestly.

"Well," Snape took her bait, "I have three problems: one of them was killed, one of them wants to be killed and the other needs to be killed. Have a solution for that?"

Hermione was shocked into silence.

Snape propped his elbow onto the armrest and laid his head into his hand. One of them was killed-on this night.

"Quite the sphinx, you are." Hermione managed an awkward smile, "…hm, needs to be killed… You-Know-Who?"

"Miss Granger, I didn't give you a riddle—"

"But you did." Hermione persisted, "wants to be killed…"

"You're not figuring this out."

"Yes, I am." Hermione said absently as she thought on the second part of his riddle, "who would want to be killed? It would be someone who wouldn't want to live anymore… but who wouldn't want to live? Someone very ill, that would be a start… who is ill?"

Snape took a sip of his tea; she'd never figure out the last two.

"Who has been in the Hospital Wing…" Hermione continued to think out loud, "no one with terminal illness. And who would be a true problem to you…."

Her gaze found Snape's eyes and she peered into them.

"Professor Dumbledore." The words tumbled forth from her lips. "And that hand…"

Snape's eyes widened considerably at the name.

"Wow, I didn't think I'd be right." Hermione breathed incredulously, "It's truly Professor Dumbledore?"

He did not respond.

"Oh … Merlin." The girl whispered. "Why?"

Snape took a deep breath. Perhaps releasing this information temporarily would keep him from going irrevocably insane.

"A powerful curse is eating his very flesh," he began mechanically, "it's a very dark, very old magic. I—I am giving him a potion that will slow it, but I cannot stop it. So, Dumbledore has asked me… to…"

Hermione gasped.

"He says it will be beneficial."

"How?"

"For the cause."

"How?"

"To 'prove' my allegiance to the Dark Lord."

Hermione was shocked. She prided herself on her knowledge, but this conversation revealed just how much she didn't know. Snape stared off into the fire. He seemed to be a million miles away and didn't truly hear what she was about to say.

"I—I can't believe…" Hermione began, "At first we were all certain you worked for You-Know-Who. Then, with the Order and everything, we were all fairly certain you at least enjoyed dabbling in the darkness—"

"She thought so—" Snape stopped himself but it was too late.

"She?" Hermione's interest skyrocketed. "Who's 'she'?"

Snape turned from the fire and took a long look at his student before him. "She" had been on his mind so much that night that the word just escaped from him without a second thought. His silence indicated his refusal to answer her question. But Hermione was getting good at the game.

"'She' died." She deduced.

Snape hid his face in his hand again. This girl was Sherlock bloody Holmes. He felt as if Hermione had carved a hole into his chest and was ripping out each secret as if it were a vital organ. The memory charm would have to ten times more powerful than usual.

"Yes." Snape heard himself whisper.

"Who's 'she'?" Hermione asked again gently.

"Lily Evans."

"Lily…Evans…" Hermione had heard the name before and the gears in her mind started turning, "Lily…"

Snape watched in abject horror as Hermione realized who 'she' was.

"Oh, gods," she breathed, almost to herself.

The two of them sat in complete silence for several minutes as Hermione processed all of the information she'd just be given. One of them wants to be killed: Dumbledore. One of them needs to be killed: Voldemort. One of them was killed: Lily Potter. The three pieces of the puzzle felt into place and cast a startling clarity on the current events. Hermione understood Snape.

She placed her cup and saucer on the side table between them. After a moment of deliberation, Hermione knelt before her professor. She very gently touched his hand. No matter how much he fought to ignore it, Snape could not deny the catharsis he was experiencing at that moment. He'd spoken words he never thought he'd get the chance to say out loud. He spilled secrets that had been eating away at him from the inside and the moment he spoke, he felt the gnawing subside.

"I'm so sorry." Hermione said softly. It was all she could say. The truth was, she couldn't fathom what he had been through in his life—and what was to come.

Snape tilted his head back against the chair and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the naked kindness before him. Hermione reddened from his lack of response.

"I'm—I shouldn't have pried…" she muttered abashedly, "I didn't know…"

"No…" Snape whispered, "no… thank you."

He laid his shaking hand upon hers. Snape brought Hermione's hand up to his face and nuzzled her palm. He'd been so starved of human contact that he no longer cared if Hermione was startled or shocked by his actions. The girl politely let him hold her hand. After a long moment of Hermione's skin prickling with goose bumps, he let go.

"Thank you." He repeated softly.

Snape avoided her gaze for a moment and rose.

"Tea was rather weak, Miss Granger." He lifted his chin and straightened his back so that he was at his full height. He towered over her.

"I'll get it right next time, sir."

Snape sneered and began to raise his wand furtively. Hermione glanced down at it and sent up a shield between them.

"Please, sir, I know you'll want to erase my memory of this." Hermione said matter-of-factly, "But don't. Your secrets are safe with me. Would you like to cast a Fidelius Charm instead?"

Snape set his mouth sourly; perhaps this was wildly serendipitous. If he told Granger, and he ultimately failed his quest, she'd definitely be open to telling Potter…

"All—all right then." Snape cleared his throat. "Take down the shield."

Hermione hesitated at first, thinking he would trick her into letting her guard down. She studied him for a moment before making the spell vanish. Snape placed his wand into his pocket and Hermione furrowed her brow into a little knot.

"You're not using—"

"Not for this charm, Miss Granger," Snape drawled, then stammered, "If you will allow me…"

Snape held his palms out to her.

"Allow you—"

"Place your hands—in mine." Snape spoke softly.

Snape frowned. And blushed. Hermione slipped her hands with some hesitation. She could feel his blood pulsing as it thrummed against her fingertips. It was a weird, backward feeling for her. Snape swallowed.

"Can you feel my pulse?" Snape asked quickly.

"Yes."

Snape nodded in assent. "Don't move."

Hermione's breathing became shallow for fear of moving. She so wanted to do this right. She felt herself being locked in place and her eyes could not move away from Snape's direct gaze.

A smooth heat began to emanate from Snape's chest, through his hands onto hers. Hermione could also feel the same strange sensation being pulled forth from the depths of her chest, as well. The heat quickly spread throughout her body. Hermione so wished she could wipe her brow which was covered with tiny pearls of perspiration, but she didn't dare. She could swear that as Snape gazed at her, he saw straight into her soul.

Snape silently incanted the charm in his head as he felt the heat coursing through his body. He continued to do so until he felt the searing magnetizing rush of being pulled closer to Hermione.

The force of the charm pressed them so close together that Hermione could swear she could hear Snape's very thoughts. Suddenly an electric shock invaded her body signifying the charm sealed itself between them.

Snape could feel his body temperature return to normal and took his hands from Hermione's. The sudden absence of his hands left a cold imprint that jolted Hermione from her temporary shock. She smoothed her hair.

"I am sure you are aware of the duties of a Secret Keeper." Snape droned as he straightened his robes.

"Yes, sir." She recalled the passage from her text: "After a Secret Keeper is selected-"

"Very well." He sniffed. "So…"

There was a pause between them that lingered for just a moment too long.

"—I should get back down—"

"—I really should be in bed—"

Hermione smiled.

"Thank you for this, Miss Granger."

"You're welcome, sir," she replied, "I look forward to the next time we can share a cup of weak tea."

Snape headed for the door, turned the knob and held it open for Hermione.

"There won't be a next time, Miss Granger." Snape smirked.

"Oh, yes, there will."