"You mustn't break the connection!" Albus said, rising to his feet, his eyes wider than usual.

"You don't say," Severus snarled. He stood by the window, his arms crossed, looking at Albus with his nose scrunched. "Tell me something I don't know."

Albus sighed and dropped his gaze before he slowly walked over to him. "The potion does not break the curse right away. It takes a while. If you break the connection now -"

"- the curse will still kill me," Severus finished when Albus broke off.

"Yes." He regarded him with a look that might have been something like an apology. An apology for not finding a better way to save his life. Severus turned away. He didn't want to see it. "The connection will vanish by itself. Don't block it."

He snorted. "She's in my head, Albus! What shall I do the next time the Dark Lord rummages through my mind? How shall I explain this to him?"

"By then the connection will long be gone," he said frowning. "The Auror attack has weakened Voldemort. As undesirable as their intervention was, they gave us a break."

Severus pinched his nose. "Why don't you tell me what kind of potion it was, Albus?"

The blue eyes fixed him with an intensity that got Severus's hackles up. "Voldemort must not know that a potion exists that ... under certain circumstances can stop this curse. He thinks Necare conctanter is just as reliable as Avada kedavra. It better stays like that."

"He will see I'm still alive!"

Albus's eyebrows twitched. "So? Has anyone noticed you were hit by this curse?"

Severus ground his teeth. "No," he growled.

"Then you better keep that a secret as well."

"How long?" he asked sullenly.

"How long what, Severus?"

He rolled his eyes. "How long until I get rid of her?"

"I cannot say."

"But I will get rid of her!"

Albus's lip twitched. "Of course you will."

The next morning Hermione was aloof. She didn't talk much either before or after going to work. But there wasn't much to talk about anyway. She knew he didn't want her in his mind. That he'd tried everything to get her out. There was nothing more to say, neither from his side nor from hers.

Albus thought it so easy to not block the connection. Severus snorted softly and caused Hermione to look at him, startled. He ignored her. Did Albus even have the slightest idea what it was like to permanently witness someone else's feelings? And worse, feelings of someone whose love was unrequited?

No, there definitely wasn't any more to say. Not even as far as the potion was concerned. They knew what they wanted to brew - they just had to find a way to stabilise it. So far it had always been ruined less than ten minutes into the process. Only once they'd managed to produce a version that made it into a vial – just to blow up in their faces. The sealed gases had put the vessel under too much pressure.

So Severus observed the potion, he observed Hermione's work and most of all he observed her. Grudgingly. Her expression became more and more dogged and she less and less focused. And Severus knew why.

He hadn't noticed the slightest emotion from her since she'd been here. She practiced Occlumency and he vividly remembered his beginnings. Driven by the desire to never let anyone look into his mind again after the Dark Lord had ravaged it and laughed at his pain several times, Severus had spent days concentrating on keeping his walls up. Until he collapsed.

Only then he had allowed Albus to teach him. He'd needed to learn Occlumency and obviously, there was a right way and a wrong way to do it. It had taken him weeks to learn it right.

Severus contemplated bringing this up to Hermione. But every time he chose not to. He didn't want to … approach her. He didn't want to make it seem like he was watching her. Or judge her. The ground on which they had met had been shaken. He didn't trust it anymore.

When her Occlumency failed - and soon it would - he could step in. His mind never was completely open anyway, he used Occlumency much too practiced. But maybe he should ask Albus to teach her the right way as well.

What he'd probably refuse to do because they shouldn't block the connection … Severus pursed his lips. Perhaps he should consider teaching her himself. But he'd already failed at Potter. Well, Hermione was different, she would get it. Still. He really wasn't keen on seeing even more from her. He'd rather exclude her with his own Occlumency. He preferred being in control anyway.

It happened half an hour later. Her Occlumency and her knife slipped as she tried to grab a muted struggling mandrake to behead it. The blade missed her hand just by a hair.

Severus frowned as her emotions surged against his mind. Emotions that let his heart pound violently and caused him to clench his teeth. Frustration and … exhaustion. And something else. He blocked her before he reached across the table and took the knife out of her hand. The mandrake had taken its chance and had jumped off the table. Severus pointed his wand at the nodule and threw a silent Impediment Jinx at it. "Stop using Occlumency and sit down," he said without looking at Hermione.

"I can't." But she sat down, so she couldn't mean that. Occlumency it was.

"Yes, you can. You're good for nothing if you cannot concentrate adequately."

She rubbed her temples. "And if I stop using Occlumency, you're good for nothing."

He scowled at her. "I know how to use Occlumency. So do as I say and concentrate on this potion."

She met his gaze, chewing the inside of her lip, and finally nodded. The tension fell from her as she let go.

Severus didn't feel anything. "Get your mandrake and carry on," he said when she eyed him suspiciously.

"Thank you," she said quietly and Severus nodded without looking at her.

They worked until lunch without further discussion.

In the following days, some owls arrived for Severus. He had no friends amongst the Potions Masters. In fact, he had no friends at all. But he was respected and when he asked for help everyone answered him.

And the description of that potion seemed to interest everyone. He got answers from all over the world, knowledge from all over the world. And apparently, the whole world didn't know what kind of potion it was. There just wasn't a potion that worked like this!

And yet it had saved his life.

Severus crumpled up every single one of the letters, all of them ending with a plea to be informed should he find out what potion it had been. He tossed them straight into the fireplace where they landed in the remains of the last fire.

Albus would be very pleased to hear about his fruitless research. Severus wrinkled his nose. He had little sympathy for the reasons of the Headmaster. He was hiding so much from the Dark Lord. Damn it, he hid everything he knew about the Horcruxes from him! He hid his experiments! He'd been working with Hermione on potions designed to kill the Dark Lord for months and he hid that too! Whatever the reason Albus kept this potion a secret from him, it definitely wasn't the Dark Lord.

It was probably just his own paranoia. Everything Severus knew about the war he had either found out by himself, wormed out of Albus, or only was informed about when it had almost been too late. These Horcruxes? He could've been working on these potions for years! Albus had known about them ever since the youngest Weasley had been obsessed with the diary and had chased a Basilisk around the castle! Years!

Severus leaned back in his chair. The potion wouldn't be a problem to hide. But this connection to Hermione could become a serious problem if it didn't vanish before the next Death Eater meeting. Maybe he'd be able to block her without the Dark Lord realising he was hiding something from him, but he already faced the snake fetishist with enough risks, he wasn't eager to add another one.

And apart from the imminent danger that the Dark Lord might find Hermione's emotions in his mind, Hermione robbed him of sleep. She had nightmares. Of course she had. But now he had them, too. Not the dreams, but the emotions that went with them. If she woke up in a panic, so did he. At night even his Occlumency was patchy. He could clear his mind before falling asleep but the effect didn't last all night. He hadn't slept as restlessly as in the previous nights in a long time.

Severus rubbed his itchy eyes. It was only seven in the evening, but maybe he should go get some sleep before Hermione had the same idea.

"You look better," Poppy stated as he grudgingly entered the infirmary the next morning.

"Does that mean I can leave?" Severus snarled, raising his eyebrows.

"In a minute," she replied laconically. She knew him and his displeasure with aftercare. There were some scars on his body that he wouldn't have if he had followed her instructions.

So while Poppy disappeared behind the folding screen she had peered around when he'd shown up, Severus wandered through the infirmary and finally stopped in front of the glass cabinet with the healing potions. The empty beds and the open doors behind him were reflected in the smooth surface, he saw one of the ghosts floating by. His gaze found the vials with the purple Dreamless Sleep Potion. For a moment he was actually tempted to take one for Hermione. He hadn't enough spare time to brew a new batch right now and it would be nice to only be plagued by his own nightmares again for a change.

But surely Hermione would've fetched a vial long ago if she'd wanted to take it. Or could take it. Perhaps there were reasons speaking against it. She wasn't stupid and he wouldn't make the mistake of assuming so.

"Shall we?" Poppy's voice tore him out of his musings.

He turned to her sullenly. "As if I had a choice," he growled while following her behind another screen to have his improved state of health officially confirmed.

Since their little dispute about Occlumency Severus's conversations with Hermione never went beyond their experiments and both were careful not to get too close to each other. She avoided his gaze and after realising he was actually blocking her emotions and wasn't spying on her she relaxed a bit.

At least she thought he wasn't. But Severus wouldn't have been Severus if he hadn't spied at least a little. It was just too entertaining observing her exercising Occlumency again and again, failing miserably. What a monumental moment: Hermione Granger failed at a task.

But of course, there also was something tarnishing his entertainment. The emotions reaching him were … uncomfortable. They were … He sighed. Yes, it was love. No point in denying it any longer. It was exactly the same mess that had made him commit the direst mistakes. That he'd given up as best he could. Now that damn feeling was back, even if it wasn't his. He hated it.

Plus Hermione's accuracy still suffered under her constant attempts at Occlumency. Severus was trying to be a little more forgiving than usual, but on Friday evening she took it too far. She ruined a very promising charge by missing the right moment to add the right ingredient. The potion foamed wildly, bubbled over the rim of the cauldron and from there right over the edge of the table. A white puddle spread out on the floor to their feet.

He took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out again. Hermione looked down guiltily and vanished the ruined potion – or at least she tried. Instead, thick bubbles rose up all over the foam, spreading it even more when they burst.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled blushing.

"In my office, now!" Severus hissed, pointing to the connecting door. "Carry on researching while I clean up."

She nodded and put her wand away. Then she teetered around the mess and disappeared into his office.

Severus swivelled his head, eyes closed. His muscles were rock-hard. They couldn't go on like this.

After cleaning up the remains of the potion, he tidied up the laboratory. He needed a few minutes to calm down. She had ruined three hours of promising work. Three hours. He had to try again tomorrow and hopefully, he'd really written down every detail of the process.

A few minutes later he followed her into his office. Contrary to his orders she hadn't started to research. Instead, she'd propped her hands on the back of the armchair by the low coffee table and was just lowering her head between her shoulders.

"I tolerated your Occlumency exercises as long as they did not interfere with our work. But I will not tolerate negligence, Hermione. Stop closing your mind with Occlumency!"

"I can't," she muttered from beneath her arms.

"Why?"

"Because of you!" Her fingernails dug into the fabric, the scratching loud in the silence. Then she turned and looked at him angrily. "Do you think I like you to always sense my emotions? Do you think I want you to see everything I keep a secret from everyone else? You are the one person I least want to see my feelings because I know you'll mock them! No matter how often Professor Dumbledore tells me to let it happen - I can't! So don't tell me to stop closing my mind." She scowled at him crossing her arms.

Severus let out a sharp breath. So Albus had preached that to her as well. Of course he had. "You're doing it wrong. It drains you and I still sense everything."

Hermione snorted. "You don't even sense a fraction of it."

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "I think I sense a lot. You seem to forget that this connection also exists when we are not in the same room."

She gritted her teeth. "I haven't left my mind completely unprotected in a week. What you notice are glimpses when I'm distracted or about to fall asleep. Not that I've slept a lot lately …"

Severus rolled his eyes. "You don't say …"

She gave him a sullen look and leaned heavily against the chair. "You don't even know what you're talking about," she whispered, closed her eyes and clutched her head as if she were dizzy. She also turned pale and Severus took a step towards her.

"Then show me," he replied. She obviously had no idea how weak her Occlumency actually was.

Hermione snorted. "I don't … think so …" Her voice subsided and her knees suddenly gave way under her. Severus grabbed her upper arms and held her tight. Suddenly she was very close to him.

He directed her to the settee and urged her to lie down. Accioed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water. "Drink!" he ordered, handing it to her when she was able to hold it.

Hermione took the water without comment and took a few small sips. She once again avoided his gaze.

Severus sat down on the coffee table behind him. "It's your decision," he returned to the subject. "Torment yourself with that for all I care." He circled his index finger over her outstretched body. "Or maybe Albus will help you learn Occlumency."

"No, definitely not," she muttered and placed the still almost full glass on the table next to him. "But you could teach me," she said quietly.

Severus frowned and handed her the glass back. "More!"

She rolled her eyes but acquiesced.

"I can do Occlumency myself," he said.

"Of course …"

He sighed. "You can't go on like this. You either let me see the extent of our problem and leave it to me to close myself off from it, or you will go on screwing up potions."

Hermione lifted her tired gaze and eyed him as if she wanted to take a look behind his forehead. Severus returned it indifferently. Even if she tried - what he doubted - he wouldn't let her see anything. Finally, she nodded. "All right then. But I warned you. "

He raised an eyebrow.

And her walls came down.