7

AN: I'm so sorry for being late again! This week was not a good one in RL. However, here's a chapter and I promise, barring any other emergencies, that the next one will be up on Monday.

Thanks, as always, go to Ayerf and Septentrion for giving this a read through. Mistakes are still my own intellectual property.

Hermione was shaking with rage as she sat down in the chair next to Ron, automatically brushing the hair back off his forehead. She looked away, taking his large hand in her small ones.

"Oh, Ron," she sighed shakily. "I wish you were better so that I could tell you everything he said. Then you would swear and curse him, I'd tell you to be respectful, and everything would go back to normal."

She rested her chin in her hands, staring their hands. "Please get better. I know there isn't much reason to get better, not with You-Know-Who still around and the threat of torture and everything, but... I want you to get better!" She sniffed and wiped her nose with the handkerchief Snape had given her the previous night. She looked at it with a faint frown and shook her head. "I need you to get better. I can't imagine not having you in my life, Ron. What'll we... what will I do without you?"

She reached out to stroke his arm, unable to keep herself from touching him. Finally, her hand stopped, covering his hand with hers.

"I'm worried, Ron. I don't know how Harry is going to find all the Horcruxes without our help. He's stronger than either of us now, but... I think he's going to take our loss hard. I also don't know how Professor Snape is going to pull this off. Oh, he's one of the good guys, by the way. I'm supposed to be his prisoner or slave or something, but it isn't like that at all. He was the one who rescued you."

She paused, frowning.

"He scares me a little, and he's got a horrible temper, but I trust him. I'm worried that I shouldn't have told him about the Horcruxes, but perhaps Dumbledore was wrong not to trust him with that. Perhaps, with his help, we'll be able to find them all and end this miserable war.

"Of course, the scary part of his knowing isn't whether he'd betray us, because I'm sure he can see just as well as we can that he'd end up at the bottom of the lake faster than Regulus did if Vol-- if You-Know-Who found out he knows. The scary part is if You-Know-Who does find out. I'll have killed him."

"And that is why I wish Poppy didn't know about me," Snape said from behind her. Hermione screamed and jumped up, twirling around to see Snape leaning against the door frame. He looked vaguely amused at her reaction, but mostly he looked somber.

"Poppy now bears the same weight as you, knowing that lives depend on her discretion. I do trust her, probably more than anyone else in this castle, but it is unfair to burden her with the knowledge."

"It's not fair for you to bear the entire burden, though," Hermione replied, still breathing a bit hard.

His lips twitched up and he shook his head. "I don't. It would seem Potter bears a bit more of the burden than I do."

He walked forward, conjuring a chair beside hers and sat down. "The theory is that the fewer people who know anything, the fewer people will get hurt."

"That's rubbish! What about all the innocent bystanders? What about the Muggles who've been killed the last two years?"

"That is off topic as those are casualties of war. I am speaking of soldiers' lives."

"And it isn't off topic, because Madam Pomfrey isn't a soldier. She never signed up for anything."

"Until she was enlisted by knowledge."

Comprehension hit Hermione hard. "Oh."

Snape snorted. "Yes, 'oh.'" He looked away from her and his gaze came to rest on Ron.

"It galls me that Albus enlisted children in this war. And before you protest, I know very well that children are as capable of creating and fighting evil as adults. It's just appalling that it has come to that. Yet again."

Hermione watched as his face darkened, wondering what memory he was in. That 'yet again' was obviously personal. She didn't know what to say that wouldn't be inane or even insulting, so she remained silent.

Snape stared at Ron for a few minutes then shook his head and looked to Hermione. "Let me know when you are hungry."

He stood up to leave, making Hermione aware, for the first time since getting her memories back, that whether or not she was being treated decently, she was still a prisoner. Trapped and useless.

"Professor," she called out, stopping him as he made his way to the door. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He didn't say anything but just looked at her for a moment. Finally he said, "Unless you have a secret link to Potter that I know nothing about, the only task I can give you is to tend to Mr. Weasley." He turned and walked to the door, where he paused and turned to face her again. "Besides," he said in a surprisingly soft voice, "I imagine you could use a bit of a break from worrying about the rest of the world. Focus on what's more imp... more immediate."

Hermione had the feeling that Snape was trying to tell her to cherish every moment with Ron. It was an absurd thought, though. Wasn't it? It was ridiculous to think that Snape would view time spent with an unconscious person as time well spent. Not only that, but it had sounded as if he was offering her comfort, and that was patently ridiculous.

She stopped herself there, realizing that although he had been brusque with her immediately after he'd rescued her, and harsh while her memory had been modified, he hadn't been overly cruel, and so far had done everything within his power to protect her and make her more comfortable.

What if he was offering her comfort?

His conversation with Voldemort the night before sprang to mind suddenly. Voldemort had said something about Lily Potter, about Snape having a penchant for Mudbloods. She ran through several theories, and although it seemed unlikely, the one that made the most sense in her current dealings with Snape was that he had been in love with Lily Potter.

Pondering it further, she realized that his loving Lily made a lot of things fall into place. Like why he hated Harry so very much. Why he did his best to protect Harry, despite hating the sight of him. Why Dumbledore trusted him. Why his patronus was a doe...

She released a big, heartfelt, romantic sigh. It was worse than Romeo and Juliet, because at least Romeo got the girl, however briefly.

Ron gave a low moan and she immediately turned her focus onto him. He wasn't moving much, but it looked like he was starting to get agitated.

"Ron?" she whispered, careful to keep her voice down.

He tried to blink his eyes open, but the sleeping draught Madam Pomfrey had given him early in the morning was still holding on.

"Shh, dear," she cooed, brushing a few stray hairs off his forehead. He calmed down, although he was still obviously trying to open his eyes.

"Don't strain yourself, Ron. It's better if you keep your eyes closed. It's better if you look like you're unconscious."

A miniscule line formed between Ron's eyes as his facial muscles tried to frown.

"I imagine you're wondering what's going on. We're safe at Hogwarts now, although we're not out of danger yet. Professor Snape saved both of us."

His eyelids struggled to pop open in shock, but Hermione shushed him again, stroking his hair comfortingly.

"Don't worry, he's on our side. I haven't asked for the details, but he sent us the sword. He will do his best to keep us safe, just as he's been trying to keep all the students safe. Why else do you think he sent Neville, Ginny and Luna into the forest with Hagrid last autumn? He knew they'd be safe with Hagrid."

Ron's movements stilled, and she didn't know whether he had gone back to sleep again or not, but she continued talking, relaying the entire story, ending with her latest theory.

"We were, once again, so wrong about him. He and Harry, they're the heroes. It's too bad their relationship is so lousy. Imagine what strength Harry would have gained having Snape as a mentor as well as Dumbledore?"

She paused, observing Ron closely. She smiled tearfully at him, knowing he was now definitely asleep.

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Rest well, Ron." The words, 'I love you,' hovered on her lips, but she held them back, hoping there would be another chance to tell him how she felt when he might remember it.

Giving his head one last caress, she got up. Turning, she was startled to find herself being observed by Snape.

He nodded to her and left the room, leaving her to follow in his footsteps.

When she reached the office, he was already seated. He scowled at her as she took a seat in what she now considered to be 'her' chair.

"Romanticism will get you killed, Miss Granger."

She frowned, confused. "Sir?"

"'What ifs' and 'should have beens' lead down a murky path of sentimentalism. Sentimentalism leads to the creation of scapegoats, and scapegoats tend to be killed off. Hence the Muggle-born Registration Committee."

She snorted, and his scowl grew darker. "By your logic, sir, it won't be me who will be getting killed off. I would be the one doing the killing."

His scowl retreated slightly as he snorted in turn. "Yes, well, evil overlording has a fairly high mortality rate, as well."

"Well, given the choice between being a sacrificial scapegoat or an evil overlord, I might just choose the evil overlording. At least that way I might have a chance of making some social changes before being overthrown."

His lips quirked up into something resembling a smile. "Yes, I can just imagine what your regime would be like. Booksellers of the world would be very happy indeed."

She snorted again, rather embarrassingly loudly. His lips twitched up again, and he leaned back in his chair looking almost relaxed. She marveled that this was the same person who had bullied them for the last six years.

"You must hate teaching very much," Hermione heard herself say. She immediately clapped both her hands over her mouth, horrified by her gall. She was highly surprised when Snape did not scowl, but merely raised a mocking eyebrow at her.

"And it has taken you this long to figure that out? For shame, Miss Granger. I thought you more intelligent than that."

Stunned, she eyed him warily. "Who are you and what have you done to Professor Snape?" she asked, only half joking.

He did scowl at that. "If you would prefer--"

"Oh, no nononono," Hermione said, interrupting him. "It's not that at all! I just... You must admit that you've put up a very... erm..."

"Greasy? Monstrous? Vampirical?"

"...Hateful persona, so forgive me if I'm having slight difficulties adjusting to this other you. This other you who rescued me, then Ron, is looking after the safety of the students, and whom I am immeasurably grateful and indebted to."

His frown increased as he observed her. "And that brings us back to the dangers of romanticism."

She smiled nervously and blushed as she exclaimed, "Oh, don't worry about me forgetting your less than stellar traits, or your role or anything. I just want you to know that I am grateful for all that you have done for us. Thank you."

He continued frowning, but the lines around his mouth eased up a little. He cleared his throat discreetly, looking almost embarrassed. "You are welcome."

He then tried to distract her from his reaction by conjuring a delicious smelling lunch that didn't include berries, nuts or fungi.