The noise of the Gryffindor celebration filled the halls as the students streamed back into the castle, their cheers and laughter echoing off the stone walls. Hermione was grateful to be away from the bitter cold, feeling her cheeks sting with the remnants of the wind's chill. She was walking briskly, her scarf pulled tightly around her neck, lost in thought about the game and the tension that seemed to buzz in the air.

She hadn't noticed she was being followed until she felt a sudden, firm grip on her hand, yanking her to a stop. Startled, she turned around to see Ron, his face flushed from the cold and the adrenaline of the game. His grin was wide, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Wait up, 'Mione," Ron said, practically bouncing on his feet. "Did you see how well Gryffindor played? Slytherin didn't have a chance." His grin was wide and boyish, his fist pumping in the air as he relived the highlights of the match.

"Yes, I saw," Hermione replied, her voice tight as she noticed that Ron wasn't letting go of her hand. His grip was firm, almost possessive. She tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened, holding her in place. She could feel a creeping sense of unease settle over her. "Ron, let me go," she said, more firmly this time.

Instead of releasing her, Ron's grin turned into something else—a look that made Hermione's stomach twist uncomfortably. "Don't I deserve a little something?" he asked, leaning closer, his tone taking on a playful yet unsettling edge.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she tugged at her hand again, trying to break free, but his grip only tightened. "Ron, I mean it," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and anxiety. "Let me go."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Ron's face, his expression shifting from playful to something darker. "Enough with your games," he hissed, his voice dropping to a low, almost threatening tone. "I want you to kiss me."

Hermione's heart raced as panic started to build within her. She tried to yank her hand away with all her might, but Ron held on, his strength overpowering hers. The hallway, now quieter as students filtered away, suddenly felt very isolated and intimidating. She glanced around, hoping someone would come by, but the corridor was mostly empty, her friends long gone to join the celebration in the common room.

"Ron, stop this!" she insisted, her voice raising in both fear and defiance. She knew she had to get out of this situation, but Ron's persistence was unnerving.

Hermione felt trapped, her mind racing through potential spells and ways to break free without escalating the situation further. But just as she was about to act, she caught a dark figure emerging from the shadows at the far end of the hallway. Her breath hitched as she recognized him immediately.

Severus Snape stood there, his black eyes narrowed and his face set in a menacing scowl. His presence was imposing, and his gaze was fixed squarely on Ron. The tension in the hallway thickened as he took a deliberate step forward, his cloak billowing behind him like a storm approaching.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape drawled, his voice dangerously calm, cutting through the air like a knife. "Unhand Miss Granger this instant, or I will ensure that your punishment is far more severe than a mere loss of house points."

Ron's eyes widened, and he hesitated for a moment before finally releasing Hermione's hand. She stumbled back a step, her hand tingling from his rough grip, but she quickly regained her composure, stepping closer to Snape for safety, though she would never admit it.

Snape's gaze remained on Ron, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with a cold fury. "Get to the common room, Mr. Weasley," he commanded icily. "Now."

Ron, clearly caught off guard and embarrassed, muttered something under his breath before slinking away, casting a final, almost resentful glance at Hermione.

Snape waited until Ron was out of sight before turning his attention to Hermione. His face softened, if only slightly, as he took in her flushed cheeks and the lingering fear in her eyes. "Are you alright, Miss Granger?" he asked quietly, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Hermione nodded, though her hand still shook slightly as she rubbed the sore spot where Ron had grabbed her. "I'm fine," she whispered, grateful for his intervention yet unnerved by the entire encounter. She glanced up at him, her expression a mixture of confusion and gratitude.

Snape's gaze lingered on Hermione, watching as her shoulders remained tense and her breath came in shallow gasps. There was an intensity in his eyes, one that Hermione found both unsettling and oddly comforting. He couldn't seem to look away, the urge to ensure her safety clawing at him in a way that was both foreign and undeniable. A powerful, almost primal feeling of protectiveness surged through him, one he hadn't experienced in years—or perhaps ever.

He wasn't quite sure when it had happened, this strange shift in his emotions regarding her. Perhaps it had been gradual, building slowly like the steady accumulation of snowfall, or perhaps it had been sudden, a realization that hit him out of nowhere. Whatever it was, he was becoming increasingly aware of the magnetic pull she had on him, a pull he was finding harder and harder to ignore.

Snape's voice cut through the silence, low and commanding. "You are a witch, Miss Granger. Don't forget that," he said, his tone more intense than he intended. His dark eyes bore into hers, a mixture of sternness and something else—something protective. He could see the vulnerability etched into her features, the lingering traces of fear that still clung to her.

Hermione's breath caught at his words, her gaze snapping up to meet his. She hadn't expected that, and for a moment, she was taken aback. His statement wasn't just a reminder; it was a challenge. She could feel the weight of his expectation, the unspoken demand that she stand up for herself and not let others push her around—especially not someone like Ron.

"You have more power than most realize," Snape continued, his voice lowering further, taking on a softer, almost coaxing quality. "It's time you remember that."

There was a brief silence as his words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Hermione, still rubbing her sore wrist, nodded slowly. She could feel his intensity, the way his eyes seemed to peer straight through her defenses. "I know," she murmured, her voice steadier now but still soft. "Thank you, sir."

Snape inclined his head ever so slightly, his expression still unreadable. Yet, there was a glint in his eyes—a subtle shift that hinted at a deeper, more complex emotion. "Do not thank me for stating the obvious," he said, his tone almost teasing but still laced with a seriousness that was impossible to ignore.

He turned to leave but hesitated, his gaze lingering on her one last time. "And, Miss Granger," he added, his voice barely above a whisper, "if you ever need assistance… you know where to find me."

With that, he turned on his heel, his robes sweeping around him in a dramatic flourish, and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Hermione standing there, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, gratitude, and an emotion she couldn't quite name.

As she watched him go, Hermione felt a strange warmth settle in her chest. She had always known Snape to be a man of complexity—a man who carried more burdens than most. But there was something about the way he had looked at her just now, something in the way he had spoken, that made her wonder if there was more to their connection than she had previously understood.

Ginny's fork clattered onto her plate as she processed Hermione's words, her brows knitting together in a fierce frown. "What?!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of shock and anger. "He did what?" The color rose in her cheeks, her fiery temper flaring at the idea of Ron thinking he had some kind of claim over Hermione just because Gryffindor had won a Quidditch match.

Hermione sighed, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily between them. She glanced around the Great Hall, ensuring no one else could overhear them. "I know, it sounds ridiculous," she continued, her voice kept low to maintain their privacy. "But he grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go. He demanded a kiss as if it was some kind of reward he was owed."

Ginny's eyes blazed with fury. "That stupid, self-centered—ugh! I can't believe he would do something like that. I mean, I knew he was being a prat lately, but this?" She shook her head in disbelief, her hands balling into fists on the table. "Did you hex him?"

Hermione gave a tired chuckle, her lips curling up slightly despite the unease that still gripped her. "No, I didn't. Headmaster Snape intervened before things could escalate. Ron stormed off, thankfully, but I was too shaken to think of hexing him. Besides, I'm not sure what would have been more terrifying—cursing Ron or having Snape see me do it."

Ginny's expression softened slightly, her concern for Hermione overtaking her initial anger. "Still, Ron had no right to treat you like that. I'm glad Snape stepped in, but it's not like you should have needed rescuing in the first place." She glanced down at the end of the Gryffindor table where Ron sat a few seats away, oblivious and laughing with some of their other housemates. "I'm going to have a word with him. He needs to learn boundaries."

Hermione reached out and grabbed Ginny's arm gently, stopping her. "Please, Ginny. I don't want to cause more trouble. Let's just hope he calms down and realizes he's out of line." She sighed, her eyes drifting to her plate as she pushed her food around absently. "I've got enough on my mind as it is without adding Ron's idiocy to the mix."

Ginny's expression softened further, understanding the weight of Hermione's words. She had noticed her friend's distraction lately—the dark circles under her eyes, the way she seemed lost in thought more often than not. "I get it, Hermione," Ginny said softly, squeezing her friend's hand reassuringly. "But if he tries anything like that again, let me know, okay? Or better yet, hex him and then let me know." She offered a small, supportive smile.

Hermione managed a weak smile in return, appreciating Ginny's fierce loyalty. "I will. Thank you, Ginny." She took a deep breath, feeling a little lighter with her friend's support. "I just wish things could go back to normal... whatever that means anymore."

"Normal's overrated," Ginny replied with a smirk, leaning in conspiratorially. "And besides, you've got a lot more on your plate than Ron Weasley's fragile ego. Like a certain Headmaster who seems to be taking an interest in your well-being." She winked, her teasing laced with genuine curiosity.

Hermione flushed, her mind flashing back to Snape's words earlier in the day. "It's not like that," she muttered, though she wasn't sure she even believed herself. The thought of Snape, the way he had intervened, his quiet but powerful words, and the look in his eyes... they all left her feeling more confused than ever.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to let it go for now. "Sure, 'Mione. Whatever you say." She shot Hermione a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just remember, some people are worth a second look—even if they're all dark robes and scowls."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with a faint smile. "You're impossible, Ginny," she said, but her tone was warm, grateful for her friend's humor and support.

"Yep," Ginny agreed cheerfully, grabbing a roll from the basket. "But you love me for it."

"I wish I never gave Ron that stupid kiss in the first place," Hermione admitted after taking a bite of her own roll. "It was in the heat of the moment. I was scared. We all were and at the time I didn't know whether we would survive or not. It's been months since. He needs to get over it."

Ginny's expression softened as she listened, her fiery temper cooling into something more sympathetic. "I get it, Hermione," she said gently, her tone a blend of understanding and frustration. "That kiss wasn't some kind of promise or commitment—it was just... a moment. We all had those moments during the war, thinking it could be our last chance to say or do anything. But Ron…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "He's holding onto that like it means something more."

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping as she chewed slowly on the roll. "It's like he thinks that one impulsive decision means I'm his forever, and no matter how much I try to explain that it didn't mean that, he just doesn't listen. I've tried to be patient, but it's wearing thin." She paused, swallowing the lump of bread in her throat. "I was scared, and it was a way to feel alive, to feel anything but fear for just a second. But he's twisted it into something it's not."

Ginny nodded, her eyes narrowing in thought as she leaned forward. "He's always been a bit stubborn, but this is different. It's like he's convinced himself that you're just playing hard to get. He needs to wake up and see that you're not interested." She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Maybe you need to make it clearer, 'Mione. Show him that you're moving on and that he needs to as well."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I've tried everything short of hexing him, Ginny. I've been blunt. I've ignored him. I've tried reasoning with him. And now it's like he's just digging his heels in deeper. Part of me feels like I'm responsible, like I misled him somehow, but... I shouldn't have to explain myself over and over again."

"You're not responsible for his delusions," Ginny stated firmly. "Ron needs to grow up and understand that people's feelings change, especially after everything we've all been through. You're allowed to change your mind. And you certainly don't owe him anything just because of one kiss."

Hermione felt a wave of gratitude for Ginny's unwavering support. She had been wrestling with guilt over that moment for far too long, feeling as if she owed Ron some kind of closure or further explanation. But Ginny was right—she didn't owe him anything. "I wish he would see that," she muttered, glancing over at Ron's spot at the Gryffindor table. "Maybe if he met someone else... someone who really wants to be with him."

Ginny snorted. "Well, I'm sure there's a girl out there who'd be more than happy to worship the ground he walks on, but that's not your problem to solve, Hermione. You've got enough on your plate." She gave a sly grin. "Like dealing with a certain brooding Headmaster who's been eyeing you like you're his next potions ingredient."

Hermione flushed deeply, both at Ginny's teasing and the sudden, very real thought of Snape. "Oh, please, don't start that again," she groaned, but there was no real heat behind her words. She took a bite of her meal, trying to focus on anything but the way Snape's presence had seemed to linger around her, how his voice had haunted her thoughts more than she cared to admit. "Besides, he probably thinks I'm just as annoying as Ron."

Ginny's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Annoying, maybe. But you've definitely got his attention, and Snape doesn't give his attention to just anyone. I'm just saying, keep an eye out. You never know what could happen."

Hermione gave a weary smile, her heart feeling a strange mixture of dread and curiosity. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," she murmured. "But maybe... maybe you're right. It's time I stop letting Ron's delusions dictate my life. If he can't see reason, then that's on him."

Ginny nodded, her grin turning more supportive. "Exactly. You deserve more than being someone's second choice or consolation prize, Hermione. You deserve someone who sees all of you, every part of who you are, and still wants to be by your side. And if Ron can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you."

Hermione felt a warmth spread through her chest at her friend's words. She gave a nod, feeling a little more certain, a little more resolved. "Thanks, Ginny," she said softly. "I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, 'Mione." Ginny's grin returned, her eyes alight with their usual spark. "Now, let's see if we can get through dinner without any more drama. Deal?"

Hermione chuckled, feeling a bit lighter as she nodded. "Deal."