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Chapter 3- July 18, 1998

Snape's voice echoed off the walls, returned to its former robust baritone after multiple bouts of repairing and healing the ragged neck wound that served as a reminder of the Dark Lord's inhumanity.

"For mercy's sake, Poppy, just let me go! It's too hot and bright up here this late in July. I'll be fine...you said yourself that I was healthy enough! It's not like I'm moving to Spinner's End; it's just the dungeons!"

Snape and Pomfrey were glaring at each other from either side of the bed he had occupied for nearly three months, while Hermione watched anxiously from beyond the foot of it.

"Your vitals are acceptable, and you've managed to put a little meat back on your bones, but you're still having trouble sleeping, and I don't want you mixing sleeping draughts with your remaining medications or interfering with your magic!"

Snape planted his hands on the edge of the bed and leant forward aggressively. "Did it ever occur to you that being up here, instead of in more comfortable, familiar surroundings might be contributing to said sleeping problems?"

Pomfrey crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Hermione quietly interjected, "Professor Snape does make a good point, Madam Pomfrey."

Both Snape and Pomfrey rounded on Hermione, making her take a step backward. At least Snape's irritated look was tempered by reluctant gratitude, whereas Pomfrey's glare was nearly as thunderous as Snape's used to be.

Huffing and flinging her hands down to her sides, Pomfrey snapped, "Fine. Fine! Try it your way. But you will report here daily for check-ups until I'm satisfied that you're completely healed...physically and mentally!" She pinned Hermione with a hard stare. "And you... don't you dare let him manipulate you into letting him exhaust himself or fiddle with his prescriptions!"

Hermione lifted both hands, palms out. "I promise, Madam Pomfrey; I want Professor Snape well as much as you do."

Pomfrey sniffed, then whirled on Snape again. "All right, then. Go. And take your rampant mess with you!"

With that, she spun on her heel and stomped into her office, slamming the door behind her. Snape straightened, exhaling in relief. Hermione crept closer, murmuring, "It's only because she cares about you, too, sir."

Snape rolled his eyes and said, "Hmph! Hurry now; gather all your things and let's get out of here."

Hermione snatched up the piles of parchment scattered all over the bed beside his and followed him out of the hospital wing, keeping a close eye on him as they descended the stairs. Fortunately, he slowed his angry stride and gripped the handrail, and Hermione relaxed in relief, since taking the stairs all the way down to the dungeons would be more than he had attempted all at one time yet. Tucking the stack of parchment into her book bag, she matched his steps, one hand hovering ready to support him if his legs gave out.

Snape was determined that he wouldn't need assistance, so he slowed to a more methodical pace, focusing on measuring out the little strength he had regained. By the time they reached the base of the dungeon stairs, his legs were trembling, and he felt both lightheaded and out of breath. He stopped, leaning heavily against the wall, and Hermione cupped his elbow.

"Would you like to sit for a moment? No one's around to see you." Hermione knew how fiercely Snape hated his incapacity, and how deeply he loathed others witnessing his weakness. She was surprised he had accepted her continued assistance with comparatively good grace, but chalked it up to the fact that he did need someone to help, and since he was returning the favour by assisting her with her initial draft notes for her book idea and revising for her N.E.W.T.s, it seemed more of an even exchange.

Snape waved his hand in dismissal and took a deep breath. "No. I'm fine. Just... I'll just be a moment, that's all."

Hermione nodded and withdrew her stack of parchment, taking the time to put the pages in order and straighten them. Snape shook his hair forward and watched her with hidden eyes as he had done more and more over the past few weeks.

It galled him to feel so decrepit, and to need so much help, but at least Hermione didn't make him feel like a helpless infant or patronize him. Her solicitous concern wasn't smothering, but rather, made him feel cared for. And her enthusiasm for her new endeavour helped energize him as it gave him something of interest to focus on. Really, if someone had told him three months ago that he would not only survive the war, but would find himself enjoying Hermione Granger's company, he would have sent them to St. Mungo's ward for the incurably insane.

Instead, he had to wonder if he was the insane one, putting so much stock in his budding friendship with a Gryffindor half his age.

"Let's go." Snape set off down the corridor toward his old quarters, Hermione dutifully at his heels. When he was able to neutralize his previous wards on the first try, he smirked to himself. Finding out that he not only had to rebuild his physical strength but also recharge his magic had been a dreadful shock.

Apparently, once he was so near death that his Portkey had been able to activate, his magic had fallen dormant, as he had expected. What he had not expected, however, was that it wouldn't spring back to life with its former strength once he had rejoined the living. That was one detail kept quiet aside from a select few; Pomfrey, Hermione, McGonagall, and Kingsley knew, but no one else.

Hermione was horrified that the previously formidable wizard had been reduced in such a way, but she kept her emotions in check and simply went about business in a matter-of-fact manner, much to Snape's gratitude. Not only did they talk about events and people involved in the war for Hermione to include in her draft, and work on the subjects Hermione needed for her N.E.W.T.s, they also spent time rehabilitating Snape's magical and physical strength.

Hermione had been worried about Snape's sleep disturbances, but she noted that he didn't have much trouble when he fell into his inevitable daily nap in between their study or practice sessions. When Snape had first ventured the idea that he might be able to sleep better in his quarters, Hermione immediately took his side. She knew, from those excruciating months of camping, that not being somewhere you knew...that made you feel safe...could definitely have a detrimental effect on your quality of rest.

So, when she followed Snape into his old quarters, she recognized the way his shoulders relaxed and could understand his long sigh of relief. It was obvious that no one had been there for months, as a layer of dust lay over the surfaces, and spiders had made great sport in decorating the corners with webs. Snape headed straight for the brown wingback chair in front of the hearth and sank into it with an expression of supreme satisfaction. Leaning back, he propped his feet on the ottoman in front and closed his eyes while a smile played about his lips.

Hermione smiled fondly as she set her things on the dinette table across the room after a cursory dusting charm. I wonder if he's going to fall asleep right here and now. All those stairs really took it out of him. This place needs a good cleaning, but I don't want to do anything that might disturb his rest. She stood still for a long moment, watching him relax into the chair, waiting for him to open his eyes. When she saw his head starting to list to one side, she knew he was asleep and tiptoed to the matching chair facing his at the opposite end of a dark brown sofa, hoping not to wake him. Carefully opening her latest book for studying, she settled in to read until he woke.

Snape woke when his head drooped enough to one side that it fell, and his eyes snapped open, blinking at his disorientation. When he saw Hermione across from him, nose buried in a book, he relaxed again, feeling calmer immediately. His neck was already sore from that sleepy tilt, so he knew he shouldn't doze off sitting up again. But, he wasn't recharged enough to get back to work either. He slid his feet from the ottoman, drawing Hermione's attention.

She smiled at him and said, "Are you feeling better, sir?"

Snape rubbed his neck and rumbled, "I'm just going to lie down for a few minutes. Don't want to put a crick in my neck."

Hermione nodded. "I should think not. Shall I let you go to bed?"

Snape shoved to his feet, his legs unsteady under him, and shook his head, knowing he slept better when she was around...but not willing to admit that to anyone. "No, I'm just going to take a few minutes. The sofa is fine. As soon as I catch a wink or two, we'll continue with our work. You're fine, Hermione. Stay."

She nodded again and watched him sprawl along the sofa, his head toward her. Getting to know Snape over the last several weeks...learning about all the machinations he had been forced into, understanding the stressful, precarious position he had been in, playing the servant of two masters...she had developed a deep appreciation for his courage and determination. Seeing him forgoing his old mannerisms and taking his hard-won opportunity to be less objectionable and prickly, she had discovered that he had a wicked sense of humour to go with his razor-sharp intellect. Finally having someone with whom she could engage in scholarly discussions without having to slow her racing thoughts added to her eager anticipation of their time together. Really, she had decided that Severus Snape was an altogether satisfactory friend.

She enjoyed their time together so much, in fact, that she regularly spent more time with him than anyone else, including Harry and Ron, which led to perplexed head shaking on their parts. They did support her attempt at writing an accurate account of the war, however, so they gave her significantly less grief than they might have otherwise when it seemed she was always with Snape.

Once Snape was asleep again, stretched out with one arm flung over his head at one end of the sofa and one foot dangling over the other end, Hermione finished a chapter in her book and put it down, taking the chance to look more closely at his quarters. Slipping her shoes off, she wriggled her toes in the sheepskin rug between the hearth and the seating, smiling in delight. Quietly, she sidled around the room, peering at the tapestries on the stone walls, perusing the spines of the books lining the shelves, and peeking into the mahogany hutch to see a bottle of Firewhisky and tumblers. Carefully turning the knobs of the doors on either side of the room, she saw that one door led to what looked to be his private laboratory, while the two on the other side led to the bathroom and bedroom.

Ducking into the bathroom out of curiosity, she noted that there was a door leading from it into the bedroom as well as the door to the sitting room. The towels were musty, and the air smelled stale. Closing the doors, she cast cleaning and freshening charms, satisfied that they would be sufficient until the house-elves got in to give everything a good scrubbing.

Wondering if his bedroom was as fusty as the bathroom, Hermione stepped through, lighting the wall sconces with a nonverbal Lumos. The room was Spartan, with the usual Hogwarts four-poster bed, a nightstand, a chair in the corner, and a wardrobe. She crossed to the wardrobe and opened it, coughing a little at the stagnant air wafting out at her. Not wanting to pry too much, she quickly opened each drawer and door, poking her wand in to cast freshening charms without actually rifling through his things. After doing the same on the bedding and bed curtains...both dark browns, much like the sitting room furniture, except for the plain white sheets...she tiptoed back into the sitting room, taking up residence at the dinette table, where she spread out her notes again.

It was nearly an hour and a half later before Snape woke to the aroma of tea and toast. As soon as he opened his eyes, he started, having forgotten where he was. Almost immediately, however, he relaxed again and squirmed to look behind him to where Hermione had been sitting. He frowned when he saw that the chair was empty. Sitting up, he peered over the back of the sofa, a comforting warmth spreading over him when he saw Hermione sitting at his table, scribbling something with one hand while she held a half-eaten piece of toast in the other.

He indulged in a fond smile...she hadn't noticed him yet...then sobered his expression and said, "Did you bring enough for everybody, Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped, whirling to gaze at him with wide eyes. "Oh! You startled me!" She saw his smug smirk and grimaced at him. "Just who is 'everybody'? Are you expecting guests?"

Snape stood, pleased that he no longer felt weak, and strode over to join Hermione. Snagging a chair, he spun it around and sank onto it backwards, folding his arms over the chairback. He picked up a slice of toast and snorted, then said, "As if I'd let anyone else but you down here."

Hermione ducked her head, smiling even as she blushed. Snape had taken a large bite of toast on the tails of his words, only to realize what he had said. Clearing his throat as he chewed, trying not to choke, he berated himself for not being more careful about what he admitted out loud.

Hermione tilted her head and twinkled up at him, saying, "Good heavens, was that a compliment? I'll just have to remember that one with my 'steel trap' of a mind."

Snape cut an acid glance at her, then turned his attention to fixing a cup of tea. "Couldn't wait until dinner?"

Hermione gently said, "It is dinner time, Professor. I just didn't want to wake you."

Snape stared at her, then spun to look at the time. "For Merlin's sake, I was asleep that long?" Scowling, he whipped back around and turned a baleful glare on the tea tray. "This is getting ridiculous."

Hermione took his teacup and finished making it to his liking, setting it in front of him with one hand while the other dropped to pat his knee where it was resting against the side of his chairback. "Nonsense. Your body knows what it needs to get strong again. All those stairs were a bit much at one time, and I'm glad you were able to have such a good rest now that you're in comfortable surroundings."

Snape tensed as the feel of her hand on his knee sent a tingle of warmth chasing through him. He almost wanted to lean into the caress, and that unnerved him. He bent his head and glowered at the table, disconcerted and irritated.

Hermione reached up and brushed his hair back, tucking it behind his ear as she coaxed, "Now, what would you like to have for dinner tonight? We can even have the house-elves in to clean the place while we eat." Snape's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, but he clamped down on his reaction, not wanting to frighten away her tenderness. "Why don't we have a little celebration now that you've been released from the hospital wing? I think that's worth celebrating, don't you?"

Snape slid his gaze to her cheerful smile, trying to ignore his wish that she would stroke his hair like that again. Slowly, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his pounding heart, he said, "Very well. What do you think would be worthy of this celebration? Something better than tea and toast, I hope."

Hermione laughed, and Snape's gloom lifted. Wrinkling her nose at him and grinning, she lilted, "Well, you've been a very good boy, so there should definitely be ice cream..."

Snape's lips twitched as he fought to suppress a smile. "Is that how you celebrate? In that case, sod dinner, bring up dessert!"

Her brows rose in appreciation of his flight of fancy, pleased that he hadn't rebuked her for teasing him. "Careful what you wish for, Professor. This dentists' daughter has developed quite the sweet tooth since I've been out of their house."

At that, Snape gave in and laughed, too. "Go ahead, Hermione, place a feast of fat things before me. How else am I to 'put meat on my bones,' as Poppy so eloquently puts it?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in a solemn appraisal. "You have put some weight back on, but not nearly enough. You were thin enough as it was when you arrived, and it was terrible to see you nearly wasting away before my eyes during those long weeks of that horrid coma. Honestly, I could count your ribs!"

Snape blinked. His voice low, he said, "When were you inspecting my ribs?"

Hermione flushed and avoided his eyes, focusing instead on shredding the remainder of her slice of toast. "I told you: I was helping Madam Pomfrey take care of you."

Pulse increasing, Snape scooted closer to her and leant in as he said, "Tell me what that means. You're always so conveniently vague. I have a right to know what's been done to my own person."

Hermione swallowed and said, "Well, when she was working on your neck, after she had cut away your shirt and robes, I washed the blood off of you. It...it was everywhere. Your skin was so white, and you were so thin. I warmed the flannel though; I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable. Oh, she had a knack for making him uncomfortable, all right. The thought of her bathing him made him decidedly uncomfortable as jolts of nervous desire flashed through him. He could tell, from the way she suddenly bit her lower lip, that she wasn't telling the whole story.

His voice was low and compelling as he said, "What else?"

Hermione glanced up at him and her eyes widened. Unable to break away from his penetrating gaze, she murmured, "She had done all she could for the moment, mending your wound, and you were already in the coma, so she needed to rest. But, I just couldn't let her leave you like that: still bloody and dirty from the floor of the Shack. She was exhausted, so I told her I would take care of you."

Snape reached out and laid a hand over her nervous fingers, stopping her from tearing the toast. "Go on."

"Your trousers and boots were filthy, and your hair was sticky and clumped with dried blood. I used a levitation spell to lift you and change the sheets, then peeled your boots and trousers off." Snape's eyes widened, and his hand gripped hers a bit tighter, but he didn't speak. "I'm sorry, Professor. I was just trying to make you clean and comfortable. Y-your p-pants were stained with blood that had soaked through, so I tried cleansing charms."

At that point, she wrenched her gaze from his, her cheeks scarlet. "When I had got them as clean as I could with spells, I rinsed the blood from your hair, lowered you back onto the bed, and covered you with a clean blanket. Then I pulled the other bed over...you know the one...and stayed there holding your hand while you were unconscious." She looked down at the table. "I only wanted to help you. Truly. Please don't be angry with me for taking liberties."

Snape stroked his thumb over her tense knuckles and reached up with his other hand to lift her chin. His expression was solemn but there was no anger or reprimand in his eyes as she reluctantly met his gaze. Holding her chin with gentle fingers, he murmured, "How could I be angry with you, Hermione, after all you've done for me?"

The silence grew charged with emotion, and Hermione's breathing sped up. New, unexpected feelings assailed her, making goose bumps race over her flesh. The candid appreciation and intensity in his eyes made her dizzy with the startling inklings that came crashing down on her. Of course she had taken care of him. It was only right, as an expression of gratitude. But, ever since he had regained consciousness, he had managed to command her attention like no one else ever had. Nearly every thought circled back to him, and she was almost overwhelmed by the warmth that spread from his hands touching her. He was voluntarily touching her...not the usual other way around.

Glad that he wasn't upset, she offered him a shaky smile, and he blinked, releasing her chin and looking at his hand covering hers, clearly abashed. Hermione twisted her hand to twine her fingers with his, making him glance back up at her, startled. Blushing, she squeezed his hand and whispered, "Shall I summon a house-elf to place the order? I feel like celebrating; don't you?"

Snape stared at her in cautious wonder, his gut fluttering again. One corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smile, and he said simply, "Quite."

Hermione bit her lower lip as she disengaged from his grip and rose, and she missed his faint gasp as he watched her mouth. She grabbed a spare bit of parchment and began making a list. Flicking a teasing glance at him, she said, "What flavour of ice cream do you want, since you've been such a good boy?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her and smirked. "I think I've been good enough that I deserve more than just one flavour. I want black cherry and double fudge. And feel free to request whatever you like," he added magnanimously.

Hermione goggled at him, shaking her head as she grinned. "All right; you never do things by halves, do you?"

Snape gave an elaborate shrug, rising to spin his chair the right way around. He sat back down, lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching his legs out to lean back as he said, "I've always believed that if you're going to do something, then do it 100%. Speaking of, you should add whipped cream, chopped almonds, and hot fudge sauce to that list."

Hermione grimaced and said, "Wow, that's a bit much even for me."

Snape cocked an eyebrow and said, "You can add a banana if that would make you feel better. Bananas are good for me, right?"

Hermione burst out laughing, making Snape grin. She added to the list, then drawled, "Yes, fruit is good for you..."

A few more scribbles and she summoned a house-elf, handing over the parchment and requesting that they clean Snape's quarters that very evening. The elf bowed deeply and assured them a team would be there shortly.

Hermione sat back and said, "I did a few freshening charms while you were asleep. Your bathroom and wardrobe were rather musty. It'll be much better when they've finished with everything."

Snape caught her eye and said, "Snooping around in my things, Hermione?"

She flushed and retorted, "No! I barely opened drawers to cast the charms!"

Baiting her, he said, "It's not like you'd be surprised by what's in my underwear drawer...apparently you've already seen them in vivo."

Hermione's eyes snapped open wide and she blushed even more, glaring at him as he regarded her with a wicked smirk. Sternly, she said, "Perhaps I should cancel that order, as someone's not being a very good boy now."

He shrugged again, affecting a long-suffering tone as he said, "Do what you must; I'll just starve, I guess."

At that, she rolled her eyes and voiced an inarticulate noise of frustration as she shot up from the table, glaring at him when he grinned again. "You really are the living end!"

He smoothly countered, "Indeed, with much thanks to you for helping me stay alive."

She blinked at him, speechless, then flopped back into her chair, snorting. "I give up! You win; I surrender!"

He leant forward, propped his elbows on the table, and murmured, "Really? Then I am indeed a lucky man."

His eyes gleamed with mischief, and Hermione's breath caught. Her voice was shaky as she said, "You...you're incorrigible!"

Snape chuckled darkly and said, "I am also encourageable..."

Their charged repartee was interrupted by a team of house-elves appearing, some laden with cleaning supplies and others with their celebratory dinner.

Hermione jumped to her feet and began clearing the table for the trays, and Snape sank back into his chair, heart racing with the exhilaration of discovering what stories Hermione's endearing blushes told.

The trays had bowls of black cherry, double fudge, and mint chocolate chip ice cream, peeled bananas, fresh strawberries and raspberries, purple grapes, diced pineapple, wedges of cantaloupe, whipped cream, hot fudge sauce, chopped almonds, tiny marshmallows, and rainbow sprinkles.

The house-elves went to work in the bedroom and bathroom first, leaving Snape and Hermione to eat without being surrounded by others doing domestic chores. Hermione picked up a bowl and spoon, turned to ask Snape what he wanted, saw the wicked smirk still gracing his lips, and huffed. Fixing him with a glare, she said, "You know what? You can get your own dinner."

Snape's smirk widened in amusement at her pique, but he leant forward to examine the selection while Hermione served up a scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream and a bowl of mixed fruit. Snape scooped out a large portion of both black cherry and double fudge ice cream on top of a banana, sprinkled chopped almonds over everything, drowned it all with dollops of whipped cream, then doused the entire concoction with hot fudge sauce. Hermione stared at it with an expression of revulsion and amazement.

Digging into the concoction with his spoon, Snape nodded at Hermione's dish and said, "So much for your sweet tooth. Fruit and one flavour of ice cream does not decadence make."

Hermione's brows rose and she pursed her lips at the challenge before smirking and moving the bowl of fudge sauce closer to her. She picked up a strawberry, dipped it in the sauce, and lifted it to her mouth as she drawled, "Mmm, everything's better covered in chocolate," before snaking her tongue out to the dripping sauce and wrapping her lips around the fruit.

Snape nearly choked on his freezing mouthful at the sensual sight of Hermione devouring the sweet, mind nearly overwhelmed by the ideas running rampant about what else...or who else...would be better covered in chocolate. The rush of heat to his face was easily attributed to his coughing fit, for which he was grateful. Hermione's arch satisfaction at his trouble was tempered by her genuine enjoyment of each bit of fruit dipped in the sauce.

Snape wisely chose to remain quiet and eat, just watching her, loath to press his luck with the flirting for fear of crossing the (completely invisible) line, offending her and ruining any chance he might have of building on this new fancy later. After devouring his first monstrous bowl, he followed her example and served up some of the berries to dip in the chocolate. However, he put his foot down, disgustedly refusing her urges to combine pineapple and cantaloupe with the fudge sauce.

As they started to get full, they took more time to be creative with their combinations, dipping bits of fruit in the chocolate and decorating them with varied mixtures of whipped cream, chopped almonds, tiny marshmallows, and sprinkles before entreating each other to try their creations. When Snape noticed that the ice cream was melting, he successfully cast charms to freeze it again without even a second thought or a hitch, for which he was pleased and Hermione was congratulatory. It made them even more festive, and Snape enjoyed himself enough that he found himself laughing along with Hermione at the silly jokes and funny faces she made in their celebratory giddiness.

When the house-elves came in, timidly asking whether they could clean the sitting room, Snape heaved a sigh and said, "Yes, I believe we're done with these treats also. We'll be working at this table, but that shouldn't interfere with your tasks, should it?"

"No, sir. We is to be cleaning very quick and quiet, and the tray is to go back to the kitchens."

Hermione stacked the used bowls on the tray and let them take the dishes while she took out her notes again. Snape stopped the elf before it could disappear and said, "Can you make sure my hearth is connected to the Floo again? It was disconnected when we checked earlier."

"Yes, sir! We can be fixing that right away, sir!" And with snap, the elf cast the spell, bathing the fireplace in a shower of gold sparks before trilling, "All ready, sir!" and popping out of existence.

After they worked some more on her list of people to either interview or to ask about in said interviews...based on Snape's tales of what he had either witnessed or heard about during his years as a double agent...Hermione put that project away so they could practice building Snape's magic again.

Because his nap had been so long, followed by their extended, entertaining dinner, it was late by the time they finished their tasks, and Hermione stifled a yawn. "Sorry, Professor."

Snape inclined his head and said, "It is I who should apologize, Hermione. You didn't have a nap like I did. Of course you're tired at this hour."

Hermione rubbed her eyes and sat back into the sofa cushions as she stretched. "Well, nap or not, I hope you manage to sleep better tonight, now that you're here."

Snape flashed a faint smile, knowing that it wasn't his location that had so much effect on his quality of sleep, but rather her location...near him or not. "We'll see. If you wish to leave your things here, you're welcome to, so you don't have to lug them back and forth, considering how much time you spend with me."

Hermione grimaced then smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you. And if you ever get tired of me being around so much, you're free to tell me so, and I won't even get offended."

Snape raised one brow and fixed her with a chiding look. "Rest assured, my dear, if I didn't enjoy your company, you'd know it."

Hermione laughed, then yawned again. "Sorry! I better get up to my room before I crash right here. Ugh, but I'm not looking forward to all those stairs."

An idea took shape so quickly and fully that Snape was nearly blinded by it, but he clamped down on his desire to air his idea just yet and said, "Well, you could Floo to a closer room first, now that it's reconnected."

Hermione beamed at him. "I forgot about that! Thank you; you're a lifesaver."

Snape smirked and drawled, "So I've been told..."

Hermione burst out laughing again, then shoved to her feet and crossed to the mantel. The pot of Floo powder was still half-full, and she tossed a pinch into the grate. As the green flames shot up, she turned a fond smile on Snape and said, "I had a lovely time with 'dinner' tonight. I hope you sleep well, sir. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Snape gazed at her, that flutter back in his gut, and murmured, "I sincerely hope so. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night!" With a whoosh, she was gone, leaving Snape in the silence of his sitting room, suddenly less hospitable without the warmth and laughter of Hermione's presence to fill it.

Snape stood and exited his quarters, pacing down the corridor until he came to an unused classroom. It took a few tries to get past the locking enchantments, but when he did, he was glad to see that the room was fairly large, with another smaller office room attached to it. This might do. It definitely needs some remodelling, but I daresay the plumbing to the sinks is enough to work with. It's worth looking into, at least.

Backing out, he relocked the doors, smiling to himself that he managed it on his first try, then returned to his quarters. He headed for his bedroom and changed for bed, even though he wasn't particularly sleepy yet. Sliding into the fresh sheets, he managed a fairly steady Accio to retrieve his current book, settled in, doused all the lights except for the one on his nightstand, and started reading.

It wasn't long, however, before the book fell from his fingers as his thoughts wandered, replaying the evening and enjoying the images of Hermione that filled his mind. His whispered Nox plunged him into velvet darkness, and his memories morphed into dreams as he drifted to sleep.

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