Truth Revealed... Well, Sort Of

A/N: As always, many thanks go out to my betas, JENGEORGE and NervousAboutAngels, as well as WriterMerrin here at The Petulant Poetess, for all of their hard work on my behalf. Their corrections and improvements are greatly appreciated.

And also as usual, all the credit and money goes to J. K. Rowling. Like Forrest Gump cutting grass, I enjoy it so much, I do this for free!

Chapter 20

Truth Revealed... Well, Sort Of

Hermione's stomach churned endlessly as she stepped off the lift and made her way to her office. What if Professor Snape had read that article? Winky told her that he had left home this morning in a hurry, but he would surely read the paper when he returned. Hopefully, the chocolate truffles she had left for him would soften the blow.

Hermione wanted to strangle Rita Skeeter with her bare hands for writing about her and Viktor Krum. Goo goo eyes indeed! He hadn't so much as touched her hand. Where did she get off starting such rumors? But what irritated Hermione most was the fact that Rita had been able to spot them in the first place. She should have still been at home suffering the effects of the curse Hermione had inflicted on her for writing inflammatory articles. It had been less than a week since her story on Quintsky's Stationery had appeared in the Prophet. Perhaps the curse was already beginning to wear off.

Well, at least the vixen hadn't gotten close enough to hear their conversation. The only thing that would have angered Professor Snape more than the article that did appear would have been one in which the true nature of their conversation had been revealed. Viktor had convinced Hermione that Professor Snape was in love with her, and although she was afraid to believe it, she wanted it to be true with all her heart.

Well, what's done is done, Hermione thought to herself. Her time as a Ministry employee was fast coming to an end, and she had some serious digging to do if she was to uncover the mystery blackmail artist. So she stuck her head into her office just long enough to tell Agnes that she would be in Ministry Records again and exited before her curious co-worker could grill her on the previous evening's events. No doubt the woman had read the Prophet and jumped to the wrong conclusion, just as everyone else had done.

When she entered the lift, Ron was there to keep her company. She cringed as her stomach did somersaults.

"So... Viktor Krum." Ron nodded thoughtfully. "You could do worse, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. "That hag has it all wrong," she insisted angrily. "I have no desires for Viktor, and I absolutely, positively, did NOT make goo goo eyes at him, for Merlin's sake."

Ron couldn't help but snicker at his ex-wife's predicament. "Sorry." He held up his hands as if to surrender. "I had nothing to do with it. I was with Mum and the kids last night."

"Aurrg!" was all she could manage as her floor was announced and she stepped off the lift. She could hear Ron's fading laughter behind her as the lift door closed. Great! Now the rumors would be flying fast and furious about her and a man who she considered a bottom feeder. And the one she really wanted was probably sitting at home, reading the article with steam shooting out of his ears.

Merlin! What next?

The little old witch behind the counter in the Ministry Records Office tried not to smirk as Hermione entered. "Good morning, Miss Granger," she said with a knowing smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Oddfellow. Could I trouble you for hiring records for the Greater Wizarding World Liaison Department?"

"What time period would you like, dear?" Her smirk grew to almost comic proportions.

"I think the last twenty years or so should do it."

"Very well, dear." The old woman turned to retrieve the desired tomes.

"Mrs. Oddfellow," Hermione called after her.

"Yes, dear?" She looked around, still smirking.

"There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Viktor Krum, so you can wipe that simpering smile off your face." At this point, Hermione knew that her days at the Ministry were numbered, and she really didn't give a rat's arse who she pissed off.

The old woman glared at her and silently disappeared down one of the long rows of books. When she returned, she had levitating before her an armload of volumes. When she had made the request, Hermione had not realized what she had been asking for. Each country had its own set of representatives here in Britain, and British wizards had their own set of representatives in each country with which it had normalized relations. The number of employees was staggering. And the attrition rate for the lower ranks could be compared to the revolving main entrance of Harrods Department Store. Hermione had her work cut out for her.

When lunch came, Hermione requested that Mrs. Oddfellow let the books remain on the table so she could continue in one hour, but Mrs. Oddfellow wouldn't hear of it. She insisted on putting the books back in their rightful places on the shelves, and Miss Granger would need to sign them back out after she returned from lunch. Some people simply jump through hoops and follow protocol to justify their own existence, thought Hermione with a grumble as she made note of her place in each book and handed it over to the frumpy old witch.

She couldn't get out the door fast enough. Thankfully, the lift was empty when she stepped into it, and it stayed that way until she got to the lobby. She had to reach Professor Snape, hopefully before he reached page three of the Daily Prophet.

After Apparating directly to her living room, she hastily turned on her new computer and watched in relief as it hummed to life almost instantly. But Professor Snape's name didn't appear in her buddies list. So she Disillusioned herself and Apparated to the park by the river near Spinner's End. After becoming visible again, she made her way up the riverbank and to his nice, neat little house. She put knuckle to wood, but no answer was forthcoming. That's odd, she thought. Winky should at least answer the door. She knocked harder. Still no response.

Never one to give up easily, Hermione balled her hand into a tight fist. Bang, bang, bang! "Professor Snape! It's me, Hermione." Several silent moments passed. Bang, bang, bang! "Professor, please open the door. I need to speak with you."

"My goodness, woman!" exclaimed the next door neighbor who had been in the front yard weeding her garden. "What's all the fuss about?"

Hermione ignored her. Bang, bang, bang! "Professor, please!"

"Look, lady, I know it ain't none o' my business, but..."

"You're right, it is none of your business," Hermione rudely cut across her.

The Muggle neighbor stood and placed her hands on her hips, then she took several swaggering steps in Hermione's direction. "'e either ain't 'ome or 'e doesn't want to talk to the likes o' you. But one thing I know for certain – 'e ain't DEAF!"

Hermione's face turned beet red as she realized that the woman was absolutely correct. She let out a long and painful sigh as she placed her open palm silently on the front door. Perhaps Winky had gone to run errands, and Professor Snape had not yet returned from his morning appointment. She took a deep breath and turned towards the woman. "Sorry to have disturbed you, ma'am," she apologized meekly. But as she took a step towards the street, she heard the door open. With hope in her heart, she twirled on her heel to face Professor Snape. His look was not welcoming.

"Oh, Professor, thank goodness..."

"In spite of the fact that you didn't have the common decency to open your door when I came to your house last week, I will not return your rudeness in kind. But I am currently up against a deadline, so make it quick."

His voice mirrored his icy stare, but Hermione plunged forward. "Please don't tell me that you actually believe that article by Rita Skeeter?"

"I have previously witnessed everything that she described first hand, so why shouldn't I?"

"I don't know what you thought you saw last week at lunch, but it was most certainly not goo goo eyes!"

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger, the fact remains that the man accosted you and you were still willing to dine with him. One can only assume that you are either a naïve fool, or you have simply not yet come to terms with your feelings for him."

"I have no feelings for him whatsoever. I simply wanted to give him a chance to apologize for his appalling behavior."

"And what made you so sure that those were his intentions?"

"Because he sent me a huge basket of flowers with a note attached, declaring his intentions."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, that explains it."

Hermione scowled at him. "Explains what?"

"That if one wishes to get your attention, a mere single, perfect, long stem rose of deep burgundy hue is simply not adequate. I'll keep that in mind, if ever I grow a foolish desire to send you something of a floral nature again."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Why, the rose I sent yesterday afternoon, of course. You seemed to find it so utterly distasteful that you destroyed it shortly after it arrived at your office."

Hermione stared at him in total confusion. "You sent me a rose?"

"Oh please, Miss Granger. Don't play the innocent ingénue with me. It doesn't suite you."

"I never saw your rose. I swear it!"

"My Tracking Spell never lies, Miss Granger. It indicated that the rose arrived at your desk in perfect condition, but it somehow met an untimely end shortly thereafter." His voice became impatient. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a very important deadline to meet. Good day." Snape took a step back and began to close the door. "Oh, by the way," he added hastily, "thank you for the truffles." He then quietly closed the door in her face.

She stood there totally perplexed. He had sent her a rose? She'd never received it. But she knew by his attitude that she would have to solve that mystery before she could even hope for another audience with him.

Hermione quickly made her way back to her office and marched straight past the curious Agnes Garmond to her desk. It still held the glass vase, water, and Viktor's flowers from the day before, and the basket had not been moved. Agnes stood and joined Hermione as she surveyed the scene.

"So, how did your date go last night? Can we believe that rumor mill column in that rag that passes for a newspaper?"

Hermione completely ignored her co-worker's question. "Agnes, didn't you say yesterday that you saw an owl deliver a single red rose?"

Agnes' face displayed more than a touch of disappointment at having her question deflected. "Yes, but it must have transformed into these..."

"Did you witness the transformation?"

"Well, no. After I opened the window and let the bird make his delivery, I went back to my desk."

"And did you close the window after he left?"

Agnes had to stop and contemplate that one. She furrowed her brow and stared at the window with narrow eyes. After a moment, her memory returned. "No. I didn't close the window until I was about to leave for the day. I felt a blast of hot air and realized that it had been left open. I must have assumed that you would have closed it while you were putting the flowers in the vase. But I guess not."

"Could someone have switched the rose for the basket while you weren't looking?"

"No one else came in here all day, except you. But I did leave to go to the loo at one point. I suppose someone could have made the switch then."

Then a thought occurred to Hermione. She reached for the basket and grabbed the handle. "Or perhaps, no one took the rose. Perhaps it is still here." She lifted the basket and, sure enough, lying under it, with a distinctly woven pattern pressed into its petals, was a perfectly flattened rose, crushed by the weight of the heavy basket and its contents. "Damn!" she whispered, almost under her breath.

Attached to the rose with a satin red ribbon, was a note. 100% papyrus. Opalescent green antique Slytherin wax stamp. Professor Snape. Damn!

Hermione felt the essence of her soul begin to shrivel.

"Two suitors in one day! My, my, must be nice."

Hermione flashed Agnes a hostile glare. "Do you mind?"

"Touchy, aren't we?" Agnes complained, half teasing, as she sashayed slowly back to her cubical.

Hermione opened the note with trepidation, not sure if its contents would lighten her heart with joy, or laden it with guilt...

My Dearest Miss Granger,

Severus Snape

Hermione fell heavily into her office chair, and the tears began to flow freely. No wonder he had been so irritated with her when he finally answered his door. He had poured his heart out in this letter. To have it ignored, the rose destroyed, and the article appear in the paper filled with ridiculous lies, it was a wonder that he had bothered to speak to her at all. Somehow, she would have to make him understand that this was all just a huge misunderstanding. It wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to find a way.

She stood, rose in one hand and letter in the other, and headed for the office door. She stopped in the Auror department just long enough to talk with Harry.

"I need to do something this afternoon. Why don't you go interview our next blackmail victim without me and just let me know what you find out?"

"Have you been crying? What's wrong? Is this about that stupid article of Skeeter's from this morning's paper?"

"No, no, no." Hermione shook her head adamantly. "It's got nothing to do with that."

"Has Ron done something?"

"No, he's innocent, for once. Look, Harry, I really need to go."

Harry gently held her arm as she attempted to turn and leave. "Is this about Snape?" he asked accusingly. When she didn't answer, his lips and eyes narrowed. "Has he done something to hurt you?"

"Oh, no, Harry." She shook her head again. "It's just a big misunderstanding." She held up the rose. "He's mad at me because he sent this to me yesterday, and he thinks I destroyed it on purpose, but it was an accident. I didn't even find it until just now."

"Then why are you crying?"

Hermione's head shook slowly back and forth as she tried to fight back another onslaught of tears. "He's so sensitive. I really hurt his feelings because of this." She looked anxiously into Harry's eyes. "But it was an accident, I swear. I would never hurt him on purpose."

"I know you wouldn't." Harry reached for his friend's shoulder and pulled her closer so he could rub her back.

"I just hope he'll listen to reason," she said with a sniff.

"Well, if he doesn't, you just let me know. I'll make him listen." Harry smiled broadly at her and winked.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then made a hasty exit before Ron, or one of the other Aurors, noticed her tears.

*

Minutes later, Hermione found herself once again knocking on Professor Snape's door. The next door neighbor was still squatting in her flowerbed and rolled her eyes as she readied herself for an instant replay of the earlier scene. But thankfully, Professor Snape opened the door almost immediately. Hermione thought she noticed that his icy cold exterior seemed to thaw just a bit when he spotted the rose in her hand.

"I found this only a few minutes ago. It seems that Viktor's basket arrived shortly after your rose, and his delivery bird..."

"Don't you mean, 'delivery boy?'" Snape asked as he shot a quick glance at his neighbor, who may or may not have been listening.

"Right, delivery boy sat the basket right on top of your rose. Look," she held up the rose for inspection as his face became skeptical, "See the weave pattern? It matches the bottom of the basket."

Snape raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"And, I found your note." She pulled it from her robe's pocket and searched his face for some sign of softening as he inspected its condition. "You see, the rose was accidentally pressed flat, but the note remains unharmed. Really, Professor, this has all been a big misunderstanding. I would never hurt you on purpose. Please believe me."

He raised his scowl from the note to her face and noticed for the first time that her eyes were puffy and red. Had she been crying? Well, those beguiling feminine ways were not about to soften his mood. "You seemed quite willing to hurt me last week when I came to your door out of concern for your wellbeing. So I must contest your claim. You have wasted enough of my time, Miss Granger. Now, if you will excuse me, I really do have a deadline to meet." He began to slowly close the door, but she pushed her way forward.

"Professor, please listen to me."

"Miss Granger, I don't mean to be rude, but you leave me no choice." He placed his hand firmly on her shoulder and attempted to push her out of the way so he could close the door.

Hermione was desperate. She had to say something that would throw him off guard, melt his cold exterior, shatter his protective emotional wall. She could think of nothing else, so the words spewed forth like water from a Muggle fire hydrant.

"Viktor Krum thinks you're in love with me!"

She immediately regretted the outburst and covered her mouth as her eyes grew wide with anticipation. She braced herself for the verbal abuse that she thought would surely follow, but she was totally unprepared for his reaction.

Snape stared at Miss Granger as her words penetrated his consciousness. He was reminded of immature first-years at Hogwarts as they accused each other of wrong-doing to get themselves out of trouble. His knee-jerk reaction was to put his hands on his hips and bellow, "Well, Harry Potter thinks that you're in love with me! So THERE!" But he managed to keep that thought private, since it would not further his goal of a platonic relationship. The image did conjure a laugh, however, a belly laugh that, for the life of him, he could not stifle.

Hermione was mortified. She had expected horror, anger, explosive fury – anything but laughter. As her face turned beet red, she realized that his reaction was down-right insulting. She glared at him as her impending tears evaporated.

"So you think that's funny, do you?"

Snape held onto the door jamb as he attempted to regain his composure. "Don't you?" he asked incredulously. When her scowl began to morph into anger and embarrassment, he realized that she took the statement very seriously. He couldn't admit that it was true, but he also didn't want to lie to her. So he decided to go a different route, a more political answer, a non-denial denial.

He snorted loudly. "What – so you rely on that Neanderthal jock's interpretation of love now, do you? Oh, please! That would be like Longbottom giving advice on how to achieve an 'Outstanding' on a NEWT level Potions exam." Snape continued to guffaw as Miss Granger's tears threatened to return. When he searched her face for a smile, he realized that he had not succeeded in lightening her mood, so he grabbed her upper arm, gently steered her into the house, and closed the door. They had supplied the neighborhood with enough free entertainment for one afternoon.

"I suppose I could use a break from my brewing," he admitted as he caught his breath. "But I can only spare a few minutes." He led her to the couch and they both sat facing each other. He reached into his frock coat and handed her his white linen hanky. "The last thing that I wished to do was insult you, Miss Granger. Please forgive me."

She nodded as she wiped her eyes.

"But you must see the absurdity of your statement, don't you?"

Her eyes remained fixated on the hanky that was now in her lap as her fingers folded and unfolded it into nice, neat rectangles.

"Krum is a low-life jock. He's been married twice, and he apparently goes through women like water through a sieve. How could he possibly know anything about love? And even more puzzling is the notion that a bright and beautiful witch such as yourself would put any store in his opinion."

She began to wring the hanky in her hands as she closed her eyes tightly. Hermione had never been one to shrink from confrontation, and they had been skirting around this issue for weeks. She simply couldn't take the suspense any longer. She thought she would go mad if they didn't discuss their feelings for each other and get things out into the open. So she swallowed hard, screwed up her courage, and whispered just loud enough for her dear Professor to hear, "I guess, I just wanted so much to believe it."

Snape's heart began to pound hard in his chest. She had just taken a huge gamble. Her cards were laid out on the table. It was up to him now. He stared in disbelief at her face, but she still didn't meet his gaze. What could he say to her? That Krum was right? That was out of the question. Wasn't it? She would fling herself into his arms, and her career at Hogwarts would be over before it even started. And a romance could mean that Weasley would have the right to permanently keep her children from her. No, a romance between them was out of the question. Even a friendship was risky with his current status in wizarding society. He couldn't bring himself to push her away completely, but he refused to cave to selfish emotional weakness. He had to be strong for her sake.

He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. But as he opened his mouth to reply, their eyes met, and hers were full of tears. He hadn't realized how much time had passed since her quiet admission, but he realized from the look on her face that he had taken way too long to respond.

"Your silence speaks volumes, Professor," Hermione mumbled meekly. "I've ruined everything, haven't I?" She swallowed hard. "I shouldn't have come." She stood, shaking her head in disgust at her own behavior. "I'm so sorry."

Snape stood with her, but he had been reduced to speechlessness as he watched her maneuver around his coffee table and toward his front door. Say something, you fool! Don't let her leave!

As she reached for the doorknob, his hand covered hers and he finally found his voice. "Don't go," he whispered.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and stood motionless, her heart swelling with hope. But she was afraid to look up.

Snape's mind was a blur. He couldn't let her leave like this. She had suffered enough because of him. He also couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't do or say what was in his heart. But he could be her friend. Her best friend. And somehow, they would find a way to keep that little detail of their lives under wraps so it would not cause her any more grief.

Snape suddenly had a revelation. Change the subject... Redirect. That's it. Find something else to talk about.

"Gomez and Morticia!" he blurted out.

"Gomez and Morticia?" repeated Hermione in complete confusion.

"Yes. Gomez and Morticia... Uhh... They've built a nest. I believe that they have eggs. Yes... Morticia sits there constantly while Gomez keeps watch. He is her protector, you see. He brings her food, he preens her feathers. It's quite endearing, really."

Hermione's mind began to race. What was he doing? Was he so uncomfortable expressing his own emotions that he needed to use the birds to illustrate them? Or was he just trying to let her down easy? She was dazed and confused. The pain in her heart had reverted to numbness. She had no clue as to his motives or goal, so she had no choice but to play along and hope that he would reveal his intentions sooner or later.

Her eyes finally met his, and she saw unmistakable hope there.

"A nest?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, would you like to see it?" He raised his eyebrows with anticipation.

"I would love to." She dried her face with his hanky.

"Come. There's a vent in the attic that we should be able to look through." He helped her off with her traveling cloak and hung it in the front hall closet. Then he took her hand and led her up the staircase and around the corner to a closet in the hall. A built-in ladder was hidden there. He climbed up the first two steps, pushed the board that covered the opening out of the way, then climbed the rest of the way up and turned to extend his hand to help her.

The attic was cramped with a ceiling so low that neither of them could stand up straight. So they crawled in silence, on hands and knees, until they reached the far side of the hot, dark space. The only light was supplied by two louvered vents, one on each end of the room. Snape peered through the one that was now in front of them. "Yes. Good, I can see her. There's a ledge just below this vent. If you look down through the louvers, you can see Morticia sitting there. I have no idea how many eggs she has, but I believe that the likely number for a barn owl is four or five. Here, have a look." Snape shifted to the side so Miss Granger could get closer to the vent.

Hermione had to sit up a bit higher than Professor Snape to get a good view, but she could definitely see Morticia's back and the top of her head. "Do you think she knows we're watching her?"

As if to answer her question, Morticia rotated her head 180 degrees, as only an owl can do, and looked directly between the louvers into Hermione's eyes. She seemed quite content, almost happy, if an owl can feel such emotion. Just then, she was joined by Gomez, who had been hunting. He presented her with a field mouse, then they nuzzled each other, just as they had done to Hermione at times when delivering messages from Professor Snape.

"They seem so happy together," Hermione mused, "so much in love."

"Yes, lucky birds. Their lives are so simple, no one to pass judgments on them, no one to doll out punishments." Snape peered over Miss Granger's shoulder so he could watch as well. From this close proximity, he could immerse himself in her scent mixed with her perspiration and Secret Recipe. The perfect blend of torture and ecstasy. He wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in her hair and lav her neck with his tongue. Merlin's masturbation! She was too close. Her pheromones seemed to ooze from every pore. He had to get her out of there before he totally lost himself in the moment and did something that he would regret forever.

Just then, Hermione twisted her body to face his. They found themselves nose to nose, almost touching. She thought she would burst from desire. She wanted him so badly that she imagined him taking her right then and there, in that musty, dusty, dirty attic. Did his eyes express desire for her as well? She thought surely that she was not mistaken. But there was something more... Was it fear? In an attempt to reassure him, she reached up and caressed his face with a trembling hand.

Snape's stare intensified as he covered her hand with his own and pressed it tightly to his cheek. Then he turned into her open palm as his quivering lips reached her skin. Must... stay... calm... Keep... in... control. He closed his eyes tightly and forced her hand away from his face, engulfing it in both of his.

"Miss Granger," he finally managed to whisper as his eyes met hers again and he took a ragged breath. "Need I remind you that I am a convicted felon?"

"You know that doesn't matter to me. The charge is bogus," she insisted stubbornly.

He shook his head and forged on. "I have a criminal record that, although undeserved, is frowned upon just the same. And although most parents will probably tolerate a casual acquaintance between us, I doubt that any of them will turn a blind eye to a serious romantic relationship."

Hermione tried to free her hand, but he wouldn't let go. "But Professor, we obviously both feel..."

"And a one-night-stand is out of the question. It would only leave us both... wanting more." The words caused pain to even contemplate, much less to utter out loud.

"No one has to know what we do behind closed doors."

"People have a way of finding out. Mark my words. It will not remain a secret for long."

"Professor, please. I just can't keep up this charade anymore. I lo..."

"Don't! Please don't say it, Miss Granger. Can't you see how hard this is for me already? If we let this happen, if we follow our hearts and throw caution to the winds, your Hogwarts career will be over before it has even begun. And the Ministry will probably refuse to give you your old job back. You will be forced to find work in the Muggle world to pay your bills. Walnut Brain will have an iron-clad excuse to keep your children from you, and you will eventually blame me for your troubles."

"I would never blame you. I'm an adult. I know what I'm getting myself into."

"Then look at it from my point of view. I will have ruined yet another life that I hold dear. And the guilt would weigh so heavily on me that, eventually, I would be no good for you. I doubt that even Winky would stay with me."

"I will never leave you. I swear."

"You don't know that. You forget what a completely miserable human being I really am. You bring out the best in me now, but if a romance between us ruined your life, my best would become worse than you've ever witnessed. Trust me. Our relationship would be doomed from day one."

Hermione could hold back the tears no longer. She loved him so much. She wanted him so badly. How could this be happening? But deep down, she knew that he was right. Why in bloody hell did he always have to be right?

As he watched the tears roll furiously down Miss Granger's face, Snape's heart ached. This life of theirs was so horribly cruel. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her back and forth.

In the hope of appeasing her sorrow, he made a suggestion. "If it's any consolation, I can still be your best friend. We can keep in touch with emails and instant messages. By mid September, the owl chicks should be well on their way to becoming independent, so at least Gomez will be free to ferry notes back and forth between us. And I'll always be good for a hug, as long as we're behind closed doors." He could feel Miss Granger nod into his chest. "But I'm afraid, that's as far as I dare let it go, for both our sakes." He felt her nod again.

"That doesn't mean that I have to like it," she said with a sniff and a glare of mock irritation.

As she turned her tear-stained face up to his, he felt an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss her. Would that be such a sin? Just one glorious kiss? He brought his hand up to cup her cheek. He could feel her pulse-rate skyrocket beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes, and with a leaping heart, he leaned in, opening his lips ever so slightly.

POP!

Winky appeared in the attic beside them. She immediately covered her eyes when she realized just what her abrupt arrival had interrupted. "So sorry for the intrusion, master, but Mr. Draco Malfoy is here to see you."

"Shit!"

"Master!" Winky squeaked. "Such language in front of a lady!"

"Sorry," he mumbled. Then he turned to Miss Granger and looked longingly into her desperate eyes. "It just wasn't meant to be." He choked on the words through his obvious regret and sorrow. Then he kissed her on the forehead. "He mustn't know that you're here. Do you mind staying put until he leaves? I'll try to get rid of him quickly."

Miss Granger nodded yet again.

"Thanks, I'll let you know when he's gone."

Winky left with a pop, and Snape crawled back down through the attic access to contend with his anxious publisher.