A/N: So sorry for the delay - lots of family stuff going on around here. I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and are so far enjoying the New Year. It's bloody cold up here.

And, erm, by "the next one might be even better..." just extend that a bit, because I got carried away with filling in scenes here, so what I was referring to is still yet ahead!

Thanks as always for the reviews.

Molly - I am extremely flattered by that! I do take it as a great compliment. Thank you.

Bound to Him

Chapter 60

Realizing that he had been staring blankly at the same essay for several minutes without comprehending more than a few sporadic words, Severus sighed deeply and then rubbed his eyes. Several times that day he had found his mind wandering toward the meeting that Hermione had supposedly had with the Malfoy heir the night prior. When she had given no word as to how it had gone, he had grown impatient and attempted to ask her that morning. As he had found she was hoping to wait to discuss it with him until she had processed everything for herself, however, he had opted to grant her the request.

As the day was rapidly drawing to a close, though, his curiosity was quickly wearing a hole through his patience. He did not think he would allow her to leave their lessons without discussing the matter. The only issue there would be getting rid of Lupin without drawing suspicion so that they could converse in the open.

A knock pulled him from his internal musings, and Snape instinctually glanced at the clock. There was approximately an hour before his scheduled lesson with the girl, so if everything went as per usual, whatever student it was seeking his assistance would be out of his hair just in time to meet her and the wolf.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat. "Enter."

His eyebrow raised in question when it was the bushy-haired Gryffindor herself who slipped into the room.

"Yes?" he asked, casting a Muffliato as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione turned around with a bright smile. "I think I did it."

"Did what exactly?"

"Draco," she replied excitedly as she dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "I think I managed somehow to convince him to trust me. Maybe. At least, I think so."

"Such confidence in your declaration," Severus sneered, leaning back in his seat. "Do go on."

"Well," she stalled briefly. "Would you rather just view it for yourself? What happened last night?"

Though he did wish to do so wholeheartedly, he simply shrugged and eyed her carefully. "If you would prefer it."

"Well, it would make it easier for you to understand why I was so hesitant to tell you about it," she explained.

"So be it," he remarked quietly as he maneuvered in his chair enough to unlock the cabinet which held his small Pensieve. After taking a few minutes to set up the instrument, he gestured for the girl to stand beside him and then gently removed the silver strand of memory from her temple. Without pausing to ask her if she wished to accompany him, he dove into the recollection.

Several long moments later, he emerged with a noticeable frown on his face. Glancing toward the girl, who appeared to be half-dozing out of boredom in her chair, he narrowed his eyes. "I do not recall discussing –"

"I know we didn't plan on me telling him everything I did," she sighed, sitting properly in the seat, "but I just thought… well, maybe he would be more willing to open up to me about his secrets if I did the same with him. And besides, there wasn't anything I told him that V—the Dark Lord doesn't already know."

The man gave her a slight nod as he set to returning his Pensieve to its resting state. "I'm not certain I would have suggested shouting at him."

"I know," she groaned, wiping a hand over her face. "I felt like such an idiot afterwards for not holding my temper, but it just happened. I was so worried that I had ruined everything, which is why I didn't want to tell you right away."

Snape grunted as he flicked his eyes toward her. "You didn't think I would understand how easy it is to lose one's temper under pressure?"

"No," Hermione murmured slowly. "But you always manage to keep calm around him."

"Because I've had twenty years of practice," he replied, bending over to push the ornate bowl into the cabinet. "And because I take out my frustration elsewhere."

"You mean with your students," she translated, earning a smirk from the professor.

"Perhaps."

The witch rolled her eyes slightly and then crossed her arms. "I think maybe yelling at him helped, though. I mean, it would be pretty suspicious, I would think, if after five years of bad blood between us, I suddenly tolerated him fully. Plus, it probably showed him that you had not commanded me to behave a certain way around him."

"You've yet to tell me why you think this worked," he reminded her upon turning back to face her.

"Right," she smiled, leaning forward. "He dropped a note for me in class again, which said that he wants to meet at the same time and place this Sunday. I don't think he would bother with the whole cloak and dagger routine just to tell me to piss off, so something must have convinced him to take a chance. So maybe he was just testing to see how I would react?"

"Or he was just being a childish prat," Severus muttered quietly.

"Either way, it worked," she enunciated. "I have another chance."

The Slytherin folded his arms. "We shall see on Sunday. Now, however, we have other things to focus on this evening."

Hermione pushed out of her chair and followed him to the office door. "What is it we're doing tonight?"

"You will be perfecting the partner shield," he stated.

"So I'll be defending Remus against you again, then?"

"On the contrary," the man replied with a grin. "You shall be defending me from the wolf."

As a recollection of the dark-haired wizard protecting her younger self from a transformed werewolf surfaced briefly in her mind, the girl cleared her throat and peered up at him in surprise.

"It's only fair," he answered coyly as they exited the room and made their way toward the unused classroom.

Upon reaching their destination, Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You know, Professor McGonagall told me that you aren't actually a fair person."

"I'm absolutely gutted," he quipped, pushing the door shut.

"I don't think…." She trailed off momentarily before shaking her head. "You just want to appear fair, but really, you already know I can perform the charm, so it isn't actually fair at all."

Snape smirked as he leaned against a table. "Such a little know-it-all."

The girl narrowed her gaze and lifted her chin. "What's to stop me from accidentally letting a hex or five through, hmm?"

As though he had been expecting the question, the wizard adopted a devious smile. "For every hex that hits me during this evening's lesson, I will require five laps about the Room of Requirement on Thursday evening."

"That's not so –"

"Both on broom and on foot," he clarified.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, the brunette shook her head. "Now who's being a childish prat?"

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Wheezing audibly, Hermione pushed herself to make it the short distance to where the Potions Master sat in an armchair in the middle of the Room of Requirement. As she approached him, he casually glanced up from his book.

"You're not done," he remarked.

The witch let out a gasping groan and sank to her knees on the floor. "I can't… no more…"

"Fifteen laps were required, were they not?"

With a sigh, she rolled onto her back and attempted to catch her breath. "I'll do the rest next week."

"I don't recall that being part of the deal."

The girl turned her head to glare up at his form. "Yeah, well I don't recall you saying that each lap was going to be a bloody quarter mile!"

"Must've slipped my mind," he murmured, flipping the page. "Are you nearly done lounging?"

"Lounging!" she snapped, propping herself up onto one hand. "I'm trying to breathe normally again, you arse!"

His upper lip curled in response. "Perhaps if you were in better shape…"

"Oh, like you could run any farther than I could without getting winded," Hermione grumbled.

"Well, I would certainly do it without whinging," he remarked, snapping his book shut and turning to look down at her. "What I am not certain of, though, is whether any pursuers of yours will be willing to take a mutual rest before resuming their attempt to kill you."

With a long, suffering sigh, the girl forced herself back onto her feet and steadied herself with one hand against the back of his chair. When he lifted an eyebrow in question, she cleared her throat. "I know you have a valid point, but if I run any longer tonight, my knee is likely to give out and I'll be limping for days. If I don't pass out first."

The man gave a stiff nod and then conjured a glass, which he quickly filled with a silent Aguamenti. After handing it to the girl and waiting while she consumed the water, he gestured toward the other side of the room where a few brooms were stacked against the wall. "When you feel you are capable of respiration again, you may skip to the latter half of your punishment."

"You know, I only let one of those stinging hexes past on purpose," she grimaced. "And I did apologize for all of them."

"Hence why I shall allow you to suspend the remainder of your sentence til next week," Snape replied smugly.

A moment later, the young witch let out a deep breath and slowly ambled toward the brooms. Selecting the one which appeared the safest, she quickly mounted it and then shakily rose toward the ceiling. "Do I have to do all fifteen laps?"

"Oh, you'll do fifteen," he answered, standing from his chair. "Of that, there is no question."

"Fine," she muttered under her breath before setting off in a hesitant pace about the perimeter of the massive room.

"Are you under the impression that we will be here until the weekend?" Severus shouted. "Faster!"

Gritting her teeth, the girl did as instructed and increased her speed significantly. When she felt the broom begin to wobble slightly, she squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the stick more tightly, and murmured softly, "Intent and focus. Intent and focus."

"Eyes need to be open at all times!"

Hermione let out an aggravated groan and threw open her lids just in time to see that a large stone pillar had appeared suddenly in front of her. Her heart leaping into her throat, she reacted instinctually by rolling to the side. When the broom moved with her, and she was safely past the obstacle, she let out a surprised cry of relief.

On the ground, the dark-haired wizard let out his own nervous breath and then cleared his throat as he watched her all but glide to a stop. "You've only completed half a pass."

Giving a slow nod, the Gryffindor returned to the quicker pace, repeated her mantra in her head as she kept her eyes peeled for any other obstacles the Room saw fit to provide her. The first half dozen pillars she avoided flawlessly, but she passed so closely under a low-hanging beam that she could feel her head skimming beneath it.

"Granger – "

"I know!" she screeched, her heart pounding in her ears. "I second-guessed myself."

Severus nodded as he folded his arms and stared up at her. "If you could, try to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"It won't!" the young woman cried as she sped around to do her sixth lap of the area.

After he watched her successfully navigate through the course another time, the wizard withdrew his wand from his sleeve and silently sent a Stinging Hex in her direction.

An awful shout sounded as it hit its mark, and the broom went careening into a tailspin. Panicking, Hermione could not regain control of the vehicle and slipped off of it shortly before it collided with the next pillar. Realizing that she did not have time enough to focus on casting an Arresto Momentum, she squawked in terror and slammed her eyes shut, preparing herself for the brutal impact.

Before she could hit the ground, however, she felt the charm wash over her body was gently guided down to the padded floor. When she trusted herself to open her eyes again, she found herself staring up at the Slytherin Head, who bore a disappointed expression as he had his arms folded to his chest.

"Danger does not only lurk in the sky," he chided before extending his hand to her. "It comes from below as well."

"I suppose a little warning is too much to ask," the girl sputtered, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

"I'll be sure to pass your request along to the Dark Lord," Snape smirked. "I'm certain he'll be quite keen on the idea."

Blushing slightly, the witch tugged on her sleeve. "I don't see why he wouldn't."

"Indeed," the man remarked, before gesturing toward the wall. "That being said, I would suggest fetching another broom. You haven't completed your assigned laps yet."

Muttering loudly, the brunette stalked off in that direction and snatched the nearest one. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear you were trying to do me in."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

At the sound of loud voices, Hermione looked up from her spot on the Common Room sofa and saw a few members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team beginning to stumble through the portrait hole. The faces of their two Beaters, Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote, looked exceptionally morose, and the young witch found herself rising from her seat in concern. She knew they had only gone out to the pitch about an hour or so before as Harry had cancelled their usual Friday night Defense session in favor of getting in an extra team practice before their match against Hufflepuff the next afternoon.

"Imelda!" she called out, spying the reserve Beater behind the much bulkier boys. "What's happened?"

"Potter," the younger witch snapped grumpily. "That's what happened."

As her teammates grumbled their agreement before disappearing into their dormitory, Hermione shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I know he's your friend and savior of the Wizarding World and all," Imelda replied, "and that I shouldn't say anything bad about him as a teammate and captain, but he's a fecking idiot sometimes."

The older girl snorted in spite of the situation and offered a small smile. "I completely understand, but what is it this time?"

"He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing," the fourth-year explained. "He got distracted or something and wasn't exactly looking as he opened up the Bludger chest. No one was ready yet because he had told us all to organize by our positions and talk through what we needed to work on tonight, so when the Bludgers came blasting out of the chest, we didn't know enough to get out of the way and Katie took one of them directly to the knee."

"Oh my god!" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth. "Is she alright?"

The girl shook her head. "Not really. Pomfrey says it shattered the kneecap and fractured both leg bones. She'll be good as new in a few days, but obviously can't play tomorrow."

"Where's everyone else?"

Imelda sighed. "Well, Potter wanted to keep practice going, but no one really wanted to listen to him at the moment. We all went with Katie to the Hospital Wing, but Pomfrey shooed us out just now. I think Harry had to go to McGonagall to explain what happened, and Ginny is taking Dean back out to the pitch with Demelza for some practice since he'll have to sub in tomorrow. Ron refused to help him practice, so after a giant screaming match, Ginny just opted to take McLaggen instead. Ron's probably under Lavender's skirt by now."

Wincing at the imagery, Hermione thanked the girl for explaining and then shifted on her feet. Part of her wanted to check with Madam Pomfrey to see if there was anything she could do, but she knew the mediwitch would only send her away to make use of her day off. She also wanted to find Harry, but knew that Professor McGonagall was likely in midst of shouting at him. She could not interrupt Ginny without facing her wrath, and there was no way in hell that she wanted to go looking for Won-won and Lavvy-Poo.

With a deep sigh, the witch sank back against the cushions and listened to the complaints of the other occupants of the common room dissipate as everyone gradually went up to bed. Harry appeared briefly, but ignored her greeting as he sped through the room and up the stairs, so she remained on the couch until the portrait door finally swung open to reveal the rest of the team.

"Dean, just let it go!" Ginny hissed as Demelza and Cormac slipped past her and went toward their separate dormitories. "It doesn't matter!"

"I think it does," the boy argued. "He's practically obsessed with you!"

"He is not!" the redhead snapped.

"Then why is he always staring at you?" Dean protested, folding his arms.

His girlfriend threw her hands in the air. "He isn't! You're completely over-reacting! He's my friend! That's all we are!"

"He'd be more than that if it were up to him."

"Which it isn't, even if that were true!" Ginny cried before shaking her head. "Would you just stop, Dean? Now isn't the time for you to get all caveman jealous! We have to play tomorrow, and nothing's going to work right if you spend the whole time glaring at Harry."

"Gin-"

"No!" She shouted, yanking her arm away from him. "I'm going to bed, and you are, too! Good night! I hope you pull your head out of your arse before the match tomorrow, because if you don't, you'll be the next one in the infirmary!"

As Dean stared after her retreating form, Hermione scrambled up from the sofa and rushed after angry roommate.

"Ginny!" she called out once she reached the room.

"I don't want to talk about it, 'Mione," the redhead sniffled as she began stripping out of her Quidditch gear. "I need to shower and sleep."

"But…" the older girl trailed off briefly when the bathroom door was slammed in her face, but then yanked it open and moved into the room.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted in surprise, yanking a towel off the rack and wrapping it around her body. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to talk because I have been sitting downstairs wondering just what the hell has been going on for the past hour and a half. Ron isn't speaking to me, and Harry isn't either tonight, apparently, so it's going to be you!" the brunette stated forcefully as she leaned against the sink. "I heard what happened to Katie, so you don't need to explain that, but what the hell happened between you and Dean? You were all over each other before practice, and now you're threatening him with physical injury!"

"I did not!" the younger witch protested as tears began forming in her eyes.

"'Or you'll be the next one in the infirmary'," Hermione repeated with a raised brow. "It certainly sounded like it to me."

Her friend grimaced and hung her head. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that if he doesn't pay attention in the game, he'll probably end up getting hurt. Players get hurt even when they are focused on the game."

"Well, you should probably explain that to Dean, because I thought you meant you would –"

"I'm not talking to him any more tonight!" Ginny exclaimed, tightening her towel against her frame.

The brunette narrowed her gaze. "Why? Because he thinks Harry fancies you? Didn't you tell him that you don't –"

"I tried to tell him, and I thought he understood," she replied bitterly, "but apparently he didn't because he's still spouting off about him!"

"Did you ask him not to?"

"YES!" the girl hissed. "I told him that Harry was still my friend, but he doesn't care. He's still coming up with ridiculous accusations about him!"

"You mean about Harry being obsessed with you?"

Ginny nodded emphatically. "Yeah. And now Dean is claiming that that's the reason Katie's in hospital. He's claiming that was why Harry was so distracted."

"What?"

The redhead sighed and perched against the edge of the bathtub in defeat. "He's saying that Harry was so busy mooning after me that he didn't pay attention to what he was doing."

"Is that true?" Hermione asked cautiously as images of Harry absently staring at the couple appeared at the forefront of her mind.

"No!" Ginny spat, blinking away tears. "How could it possibly be true? Harry couldn't even stand me for years, and suddenly he's so head over heels that he can't complete simple, everyday tasks? I don't think so. Dean's just being a stupid prat, and I don't know how much longer I can take it."

Her roommate's eyes widened as she quickly moved to sit atop the closed lid of the commode. "What? I thought you loved him?"

"I do," the girl mumbled as fat tears rolled down her cheeks, "but if he's just going to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with, then he can just sod off."

Hermione took in a deep breath as she slid onto the side of the tub and slipped an arm about her crying friend. As soon as was possible, she knew she needed to talk to Harry.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

As Saturday morning's staff meeting dragged on, Severus allowed his thoughts to wander toward his young partner. For months, that particular title which Minerva had given to the girl had grated at his nerves, but lately he had recognized just how true it was. Neither of them had ever considered such an arrangement prior to being forced together, and they had both looked upon it with disdain and misery at its outset. If one were to completely ignore the first few months of its existence, however, he could see that the relationship was not without its benefits to either party.

Granted, he would always adamantly believe that student-teacher affairs were highly inappropriate, but he had meant it when he claimed that he had not seen her as his student in some time. In fact, he was quite surprised to note that whenever her name was brought up – as it often was whenever two or more members of staff were in the same room – the mental images it elicited were no longer those of the large-toothed, bushy-headed, gangly twelve year old with her hand desperately waving in the air as it had been in the past. He still saw her as an intelligent, determined, and driven individual, but instead of the child, he associated her name with the strong, capable, and magnanimous young woman he now knew her to be.

It had become near impossible for him to include Hermione with any assessment or consideration made about the rest of her peers. Frankly, he was mildly relieved that he no longer had to mark her essays, since he knew he would constantly have to remind himself to hold her to the same standards as he would the rest of the students of her year. It had become hard for him to envision her as only just having reached her majority, for she had faced far more trials in a short time than most people would encounter in their entire lives, and she had reacted better and accomplished much more than witches or wizards three times her age.

For the most part, she did not behave like a normal seventeen-year-old girl. Her hormones appeared to function as was expected of an individual who had recently completed puberty, but he considered her to be far more rational and focused than others of her age. She was arguably more clear-headed than he had been at that stage of his life.

Perhaps even more than I am now. Snape let out a slow breath as he reflected upon how his thoughts had changed in the short week since he had shared his mother's story with her. Having had time to think about it, he could see now that Minerva had been correct in that regard as well.

Hermione, though exceptionally young, was a witch of great fortitude. He knew that she would stand up to him when it was necessary – and sometimes when it was not – and would fight like a hellion to rise above any challenges that confronted her. She was remarkably compassionate and forgiving – even when he felt she should not be – but he could no longer imagine her ever cowering before him as his mother had done before his father. Furthermore, she appeared to have been raised in a home where both parents acted as equals as opposed to the traditional pureblood drivel of female inferiority that had been forcibly stuffed into his mother's head.

Hermione Granger was no Eileen Prince. He felt like an idiot for having not recognized it before, and the longer he dwelled upon the idea, the more absurd it seemed. They could not be more different. His mother had been foolish and naïve, and had accepted and eventually succumbed to her misery. But Hermione was strong. The more he worked with her, producing challenge after challenge, the more he knew it was true. Though she may doubt it herself – and Filius would forever protest it as a mistake – he knew exactly why the Hat had seen fit to put her in Gryffindor above the other houses.

Severus was not the least bit ashamed to admit it: he flat-out admired her. Additionally, he was sorry that he had allowed his guilt and self-loathing to cloud his perception of the young witch. Categorizing her with his mother because they had both been victimized had not only been wrong, but incredibly insulting as well. His doing so had all but negated what he had told her – that he did not actually see her as a victim who was incapable of managing without assistance – and he was angry with himself that he had not realized it sooner.

And while Minerva had attempted to impart upon him that there was a difference between himself and his father, it truly had been little more than words until Hermione had spoken them. She had reminded him of the foremost aspect of action, whether it be magical or non: intent. He had never wanted to hurt her, and had only done so either on accident or because he had to in order to save her from a worse fate.

He knew he that he would undoubtedly have to harm her again in the near future – and likely she knew as well – but he vowed to continue doing everything he could to make it up to her. When the war was over, and the Dark Lord was permanently terminated, he would do his best to give her anything she desired. Until then, however, the world was only going to grow darker, and they would both need to put aside any feelings of guilt or embarrassment that could further bog them down. They needed to be able to work together and to communicate in order to make it through the mess.

Snape closed his eyes and then tilted his head slightly as he again considered how far they come as a pair. Six months ago, she had been nothing more than his student and a pseudo-Order member. Now, she had essentially become his friend, his apprentice, his advisee, his confidante, his co-conspirator, and his lover. She truly was his partner in every sense of the word, and he knew that he needed to do a far better job of treating her as such.

Six months. Parting his mouth in mild disbelief, the wizard quickly redid his calculations and then widened his eyes briefly. On one hand, he could recall the binding ceremony as though it had merely been the night prior, but on the other, it had felt as though they had lived half a dozen years since then. As difficult as it was for him to fathom, Monday would mark six months from the night he would forever regret, and he suddenly found himself at a loss. It was not, by any means, a pleasant anniversary, but it was an anniversary of their partnership all the same. And if we're to focus more on the present than the beginning, does that necessitate its observance?

"Severus?"

The sound of his own name suddenly yanked him from his musings, and the Slytherin Head found himself the center of attention. Squaring his shoulders, he met the Deputy Headmistress's questioning gaze. "Yes, Minerva?"

"You have been listening, haven't you?" she smirked while the two elderly witches on either side of her snickered softly.

"Of course I have," he grumbled, folding his arms.

"So you agree it's a good idea, then?" she pressed eagerly.

Fucking hell. What idea? Clearing his throat, he responded with a slow affirmative, hoping to draw any clues from the other members of staff.

"It's settled then," McGonagall stated matter-of-factly before turning her attention back to the Headmaster. "That's the only thing I needed to discuss, Albus."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore smiled. "With that, I say we should adjourn and reconvene before much longer at the Quidditch pitch. I imagine it will be an exciting match."

"That it will!" Pomona stated cheerfully, nudging her neighbor in the side. "Wouldn't you agree, Min?"

The Gryffindor Head nodded as she reached for her teacup. "I suppose it will, yes. Care to make a friendly wager as to the outcome?"

"Now, now, now," the pudgy witch laughed, shaking her head. "My Hufflepuffs have been doing exceptionally well this season, but I haven't forgotten you have Potter as Seeker."

Watching them banter calmly while he frantically ran through every possible scenario as to what it was he had just pledged his support, Snape gave a disgusted sneer. "She does also happen to have Weasley as Keeper."

As Minerva met his eyes with a pointed glare, Pomona snorted merrily and patted her friend on the shoulder before standing from her chair. "In that case, Min, put me down for a bottle of Blishen's."

Pleased with his minor victory, Severus calmly picked up his own cup and glanced about the emptying room. When it was vacant save for himself and the witch seated across from him, he raised it toward his lips. "Exactly what is it I've agreed to, then?"

"I knew you weren't listening." A dark smirk crossed his colleague's face as she took a sip of her own tea. "Well, as you know, tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day, which has caused a number of the staff to be concerned about the… attention students may be giving one another. Therefore, we all – including yourself – have decided it would be a good idea for the Heads of House to provide a seminar of sorts for the older students. A brief bit of sex education, if you will."

Snape blanched immediately, jumping and cursing loudly as he spilled the remainder of his hot beverage over his hand. Shaking the liquid from his hand, he fixed her with a deadly scowl. "You decided WHAT?"

"Oh calm down, Severus!" she cried between fits of laughter. Dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, McGonagall shook her head. "You should see your face. No, that isn't what you agreed to, I promise. We just mentioned that we thought staff patrols should be extended tomorrow night in light of the holiday."

Sucking in a deep breath, the wizard willed his heart to climb out of his stomach and then adjusted his robes. "I see. Well, then, in that case, I do actually agree."

"I thought you might," she smirked, rising from her chair. "Now, we have time for a brief session if you so desire before our presence is required at the pitch."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Oh, come on! That was an easy block even it is snowing, Ron! Stop being an idiot!"

Hermione grimaced as the Quaffle soared through the middle hoop after having passed right over the redhead's left shoulder, and then glanced sheepishly over to the dark-haired witch who had been verbally abusing him since the Hufflepuff Chasers had managed to score almost a hundred points in the past hour.

"Ugghhh!" Katie Bell screeched in frustration, throwing up her hands. "If he doesn't get his act together –"

"It's okay, Won-won!" Lavender shouted loudly from several rows in front of them. "I think you're doing wonderful!"

"I swear, if she keeps that up, I'm going to throw my crutch at her."

Hermione giggled loudly as she re-applied her warming charm. "I wouldn't stop you."

"Who would?" the seventh-year muttered grumpily, flopping back down on the bench and tightening the collar of her coat. "I hope Potter hurries this up because the weather doesn't appear to be letting up any time soon."

The younger girl smiled tightly as she took in the snow swirling rapidly about them. It made it difficult to see from the stands, so she was certain it had to be even worse from the air. "How's your leg, then?"

"What?" Katie asked, yanking her attention from the match just long enough to realize what had been asked. "Oh, it's, erm, fine. Still hurts a bit to stand on, but – Damn it, Dean! You should have had that one! – but Madam Pomfrey says that should go away by Monday."

"Oh," Hermione nodded. "Well, that's something."

"I guess," her Housemate muttered gloomily. "It's still bloody frustrating. I should be out there instead of sitting on my arse. Dean's never played an actual match before, and the worst of it is that had this happened at any practice but the one yesterday, I would be perfectly fine to play. Madam Pomfrey even said so."

"I'm sorry," the younger girl said gently. "And I know Harry must feel terrible."

"Oh, I know," Katie nodded without removing her eyes from the snowy sky above the pitch. "He looked just about as ready to pass out as I was last night. It was completely unintentional, though, I know. Mistakes happen and, well, I wouldn't be nearly as pissed off if the timing had just been different. Even if it had been a different match, but this… this is pretty much the match that could make or break our chances for the House Cup. If we lose, we're tied again with Slytherin."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true," Hermione mumbled. Inwardly, she gave an exasperated groan. The girl could have very well been permanently impaired had she been treated by a less qualified medical professional and yet the only thing she was concerned with was the team's win record.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… What is he doing?"

The girl glanced at Katie and then followed her gaze to where Harry was floating almost in one place while the Hufflepuff Seeker shot past in pursuit of the Snitch.

"Potter, pay attention! Get going!" his teammate shrieked. "Summerby's nearly got it!"

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione whispered, unable to take her eyes off of her stationary friend. She had not yet had a chance to talk to him about Ginny since he had beaten her to breakfast and had called the team out to the pitch two hours before the match even started.

"Oh, shite," Katie stammered. "Ron, Bludger!"

"Won-won, look out!" Lavender screamed.

Momentarily, Hermione's eyes snapped toward her other friend in time to see him swerve to narrowly avoid being hit by the bewitched iron ball, which then bounced off the goal post and passed harmlessly beneath the redhead. Letting out the breath she did not realize she had been holding, she rolled her eyes at Lavender's exaggerated response of slumping over in her seat and covering her face.

"Shite, shite, shite," the injured Chaser whispered as she began rising from her seat. "Potter! Move!"

Hermione, along with the majority of the Gryffindor stands, suddenly looked toward their Seeker who appeared completely oblivious to the Bludger speeding directly for him.

"Harry!" she shrieked, launching to her feet, joining in with the rest of her House as they shouted in warning.

Having spotted the imminent threat, Jimmy Peakes streaked through the sky with his bat extended toward the projectile, but he could only move so fast. At the last possible second, Harry noticed the Bludger coming toward his face and pushed higher, only to have the tail of his Firebolt and his foot receive the impact of the iron ball. Screams erupted from a number of the stands as the boy began plummeting with his broom, but fortunately, Jimmy had been close enough to grab hold of his arm and heaved Harry onto his broom.

A cheer rose up from the Gryffindor stands, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle to pause play while the two boys drifted gently down to the turf. Hermione waited just long enough to see Madam Pomfrey hustling out to greet them before pushing her way through the crowd of her Housemates to sprint down the several stories of wooden steps. She nearly slipped on the last flight, but did not allow herself more than a half moment's pause to steady herself before charging through the snowbanks in the direction of the castle.

Upon finally making it inside, she sped immediately toward the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were settling Harry onto one of the beds.

"Oh, Miss Granger!" Poppy called, glancing up at her. "Fetch me a pain reliever and a bottle of Skele-Gro just in case it isn't readily mendable."

Nodding, the young witch hustled into the storeroom and quickly located the necessary items. Reaching the side of the bed, she glanced down to see that Harry had his eyes closed and a dreamy expression on his face.

"I put him under a light sleeping charm," the Healer explained. "I've found it works better than a calming draught for short periods of time and has no risk of interfering with the Skele-Gro should I need to administer it."

"I see," Hermione murmured. She felt torn between her concern for Harry and the desire to absorb all details of the healing process, so she opted to hold the unconscious boy's hand while her eyes followed the mediwitch's work.

"Minerva, if you wanted to return to the match, Granger and I have it under control," Poppy muttered.

"Oh, well," McGonagall stammered, removing her winter cap and shaking the snow from it. "I don't doubt that, but I know by the time I manage to hike all the way out there again, someone will have caught the Snitch. Unfortunately, I hold little hope that it will not be the talented Mr. Summerby who does it."

"You never know," the nurse shrugged as she finished her examination of Harry's leg. "Should be set to rights simple enough. Pay attention, Granger, as Quidditch season brings in a lot of these. Now, who's the reserve Seeker for Gryffindor?"

"Finnigan," Minerva replied, eyeing the woman's work as well.

"You're joking." Poppy glanced up in surprise before returning to her work. "I would've figured him for a Beater."

"Or a saboteur," the Deputy Headmistress agreed with a smirk. "I was quite shocked myself when Potter brought me the reserve roster."

"He was quite good, actually," Hermione piped up. "I had to sit through the try-outs. Not as good as Harry, of course, but still good."

The older women made matching noises of acknowledgement before settling into a determined silence. A few minutes later, Harry began to stir, causing his friend to tighten her grip on his hand.

"Mmmm-Mione?" the boy mumbled, blinking open his eyes. "What about… the match?"

"For Merlin's sake," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. As McGonagall snorted in amusement and was about to respond to the question, several voices sounded in the corridor, growing steadily louder until the infirmary doors burst open to reveal the soggy, red-faced, and rather winded members of the Gryffindor team.

"I take it Summerby finally put the lot of you out of your misery, then," Minerva quipped, folding her arms to her chest.

An agonized groan escaped Harry as his teammates began sheepishly nodding.

"I swear, Professor," Seamus mumbled; his ears turning even pinker then they had been from the cold wind, "the Snitch practically went right to him when Hooch blew the whistle to start again."

"How're you feeling, Harry?" Ginny asked, immediately stepping up to her roommate's elbow.

"Incredibly frustrated," he mumbled, rubbing his face. "If Slytherin beats Hufflepuff next month, we're done for."

"No kidding," Ron grumbled sadly, as he moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "You should've heard them cheering. They were louder than Hufflepuff."

"They always are when we lose," his sister reminded him, before looking back to Harry with a smirk. "I meant about your foot."

"He'll be fine," Madam Pomfrey declared, tapping his freshly-healed limb. "Though, I'm sure that'll teach him to pay better attention on the pitch, hmm?"

Grimacing, Harry nodded and then looked toward Ron. "The Firebolt?"

"More like firewood now," Dean replied, earning a quick glare from his girlfriend.

"Erm, yeah, mate," Ron nodded. "You'll probably have to send for a new one."

As Harry grumbled loudly, Poppy cleared her throat and gestured toward the crowd of tired, sweaty players. "Alright, you've all seen he's still alive. Be gone with you, then. Showers before anything else, methinks."

Once the team had finally left after giving Harry all of their well wishes, with Professor McGonagall on their heels, Hermione turned to her mentor. "Did you want me to leave as well?"

"Of course not," the matron nurse exclaimed. "You'd just have to turn right back around for your shift in an hour anyway. Now, Potter – the bones I've just mended need to set and strengthen before you can go standing on them again. You're going to have to stay right there for at least an hour, and then you can let me know how it feels. Understand?"

"Yes, Madam," the boy replied, nodding his head.

"Granger, you're welcome to sit with him if you would like," Poppy added. "I'll just be in my office finishing some inventory request forms, and whenever you're ready, go ahead and grab a meal from the kitchens and then you can get started on brewing the cough suppressor and fever reducers. After the weather at today's match, I assume I'll need quite a bit of surplus on hand."

"Of course," Hermione agreed. When the Healer had disappeared into her office, the younger witch collapsed upon the stool nearest Harry's bed and gave him a small smirk. "Hi."

Her friend snorted bitterly under his breath. "Hi."

"You're really not in any pain?" she asked, eyeing his exposed and bruised limb with concern.

Harry shrugged as he pulled himself up into a seated position. "A bit, yeah."

"Did you want another pain reliever? Madam Pomfrey only gave you one, and since she didn't have to use the Skele-Gro, you can have another."

"No, it's alright," he sighed. "Honestly, I've had worse."

"Well, I suppose that's true," the witch mumbled, peering at her hands. After a long moment of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and met his eyes. "Harry, do you know what happened up there?"

"Testing my memory, are you?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "I was looking for the Snitch and didn't see the Bludger coming until it was too late. That's what happened."

"You didn't see the other Seeker take off after the Snitch?"

The wizard frowned and scratched his head. "I saw that happen several times."

"I meant when he did it about five minutes before you got hit," she clarified.

"Oh," he murmured. After thinking for a moment, he shrugged. "I guess I didn't, but it was bloody hard to see up there anyway. I swear it was difficult to make out the end of my broom at times."

When she grunted quietly in understanding, Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. "It was probably nothing, then. I know how adept you are at spotting the Snitch usually, but I guess I underestimated just how bad the visibility was up there."

"Okay," he responded slowly, "but why were you asking?"

Grimacing, she moved her gaze to the pillow poking out from behind his back. "I guess I was just concerned. I mean with what happened last night with Katie –"

"I didn't mean to do that!" he interrupted. "You have to believe me, Hermione."

"Of course, I do," the girl assured him, grabbing his hand. "And the team does, too. Seriously, Katie's only mad that she had to sit out the match."

"Then what did you mean?"

Closing her eyes briefly, the girl squeezed his hand. "You were distracted last night and I thought you looked like you had been again this afternoon because you weren't really moving at all for several minutes so I guess I just got worried that something was wrong."

"What do you mean I wasn't moving?" he asked grumpily.

"You were just sort of hovering in one spot for a while."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe for a minute or two. I was trying to see through the snow."

"I don't know how long it was," she admitted, "but it was long enough to bother Katie, especially when Elias Summerby was after the Snitch, and you weren't."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you or Katie," the boy snapped, crossing his arms, "but neither of you were up there, were you? I only remember pausing for a few minutes because I was trying to peer through the bloody storm to see if I could find any trace of the Snitch. I watched Ginny and Dean working their way toward the hoops for a moment, and then I looked up to see the Bludger coming straight at me. That's it. That's all that happened. No need for you to be concerned."

Hermione swallowed hesitantly and then scratched her eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Harry, I just… well, I guess I just was thinking too much about last night, and I heard Dean say that you were distracted by Ginny when you –"

"He's lying!" the wizard growled. "I wasn't—"

"Then what happened?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond and then slightly deflated. "I don't know. I really don't know. I told everyone to get in their groups while I went to fetch the rest of the equipment, and they were still talking when I got back so I started to get things set up, and then the next thing I know everyone's shouting and screaming, and Katie was on the ground crying."

"So it could be possible that –"

"No!" he ground out; his expression darkening. "I wasn't paying attention. That's all. Katie's going to be fine, and she forgives me. There isn't anything that you can fix, and there isn't anything wrong with me! End of story, so just leave it alone!"

The girl blinked in surprise and then flicked her gaze toward the mediwitch's office. Standing from the stool, she straightened the ends of her scarf. "Well, Madam Pomfrey will be in to check on you soon. I'll just… I have things to get done, so I'll see you later."

Without meeting her friend's eyes, Hermione quickly strode out of the infirmary and made her way toward the staircase that led down to the kitchens. Pausing at the head of the stairs, she cast one last glance in the direction from which she had come and then shook her head. Something was definitely wrong with Harry, and she was sure as hell not going to leave it alone.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Hours later, after she had finished bottling and shelving nearly four dozen doses of each brew, Hermione trudged up to Gryffindor tower. Spotting none of her friends besides Neville in the common room, the witch managed a quick greeting to the boy before climbing the stairs into the girls' dormitory.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're back!" Mattie exclaimed upon her arrival. "I have to do rounds, but didn't want to leave her here."

"What? Leave who?" the younger witch asked, peering around the girl to spot Ginny curled into a ball on her bed. She could hear the sniffling from across the room. "What happened?"

"She wouldn't tell me," the blonde shrugged, "but my guess is it has to do with a certain tall, dark, and handsome wizard. She's been like that since I got back from supper."

Hermione sighed and stepped out of her roommate's way. "I'll deal with it."

"Thanks," Mattie gave a relieved smile. "Good luck."

Yeah. No kidding. The brunette sucked in a steadying breath and glared at the ceiling for several seconds before crossing the room and perching on her own bed. "Gin?"

"What do you want?"

Is everyone going to snap at me today? Hermione rubbed her face and leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," the redhead mumbled, staring blankly at the wall.

Biting back the urge to correct her friend, the older girl crossed her arms. "Define everything."

When the youngest Weasley did nothing but pull the pillow over her face, Hermione sighed aloud. "Merlin's sake, Gin. Did Dean propose again or something?"

"No!" came the muffled cry.

"Then what did he do?"

With a growl, Ginny appeared from beneath the pillow and glared at her. "He acted like an arse; that's what he did! I told him to stop making comments about Harry, and he wouldn't!"

"The comment about the broom?" Hermione asked. "No offense, but –"

"Not just that comment!" the younger girl interrupted, pushing up onto her bottom. "After supper, I overheard him talking to Seamus about Harry getting hurt, and when Seamus mentioned that it had been a bit ironic, he said it was almost poetic justice!"

"Oh." The brunette blinked for a moment before shifting on the bed. "So what did you say?"

"What did I say?" Ginny repeated, sitting taller. "I told him it was bloody over; that's what I said!"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "You broke up with him?"

"You're damn right I did," the redhead nodded proudly.

Her older roommate swallowed slowly. "And how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling…." She slowly sank in on herself and pulled the pillow to her chest as she laid down again. "Fecking miserable; that's how I feel."

Having fully expected the response, the brunette witch nodded and moved to join the girl on the other bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny shook her head and then turned into her friend's shoulder. "Can I just cry for a while instead?"

Hermione muttered an affirmative, wrapping her arms around her roommate. While listening to several minutes' worth of sniffling, she tried to categorize all of her own thoughts and realized that she had not thought about Draco in more than a day. Determining that he needed to be her priority for the time being, she decided that trying to figure out Harry could wait until after the weekend. She could not risk being distracted during her meeting with the Slytherin, lest she bollocks it up for real.

"Do you know what the worst part is?" the ginger-haired witch finally managed.

"What's that?" her friend asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Clearing her throat, Ginny murmured, "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day."