Chapter Eight

Hermione had only glimpsed Professor Snape four times since the night she'd divulged her true feelings to him, and he hadn't shown any indication that he reciprocated her feelings. After many restless nights spent contemplating the matter in lieu of sleeping, she decided simply to move on and lay the entire incident to rest.

Her lessons had turned from Potions to wandless magic, a subject in which she was surprised to find that her professor was extremely well versed. It turned out that he could execute spells, sans wand, as well...he was extraordinarily superior at it, as a matter of fact.

After a particularly exhausting tutoring session with Professor Snape, Hermione was sitting in Gryffindor common room correcting one of Ron's essays.

"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones," he said, pointing from his quill to the plethora of misspelled words on his Potions essay, "but I think the charm must be wearing off..."

"Yes, it must," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib'."

Ron gave an awkward sort of squeak, and Hermione shook her head. She had just finished correcting the mistakes when...

Crack.

Kreacher appeared in the center of the room, bowing low before Harry.

"Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give..."

Crack.

A second Apparition, and in popped Dobby. Hermione would have smiled at the sight of the little elf in his tea-cozy hat, but she was too flustered over Kreacher's initial greeting.

"What is going on, Harry?" Hermione said accusingly, glaring at her friend.

"Well... they've been following Malfoy for me," he replied sheepishly.

Hermione looked slack-jawed at the little house-elves, outraged at the use to which they were being put.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby squeaked, his eyes wide, "the Malfoy boy is breaking no rules that Dobby can discover, but he is still keen to avoid detection. He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a variety of other students, who keep watch for him while he enters..."

"The Room of Requirement!" Harry shouted, performing what could only be described as a 'facepalm'.

Hermione spent the next few minutes arguing with Harry over whether or not he would be able to get into the room while Malfoy was in it. She had a feeling the room would be Unplottable and enterable only if one knew what they were supposed to be asking for.

They also decided that the variety of students were most likely Crabbe and Goyle under the influence of Polyjuice Potion.

Harry vowed to find a way into the Room of Requirement, no matter what Hermione had said, at which time Hermione simply shook her head and retreated to her dorm room, wishing Harry would concentrate more on his assigned task regarding Slughorn and less on Draco Malfoy.

***

The next morning, Harry was late for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Snape.

"Late again, Potter," Snape said coldly as Harry hurried into the classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly, reaching down into her backpack and extracting her Defense book. Harry deserved that one, she knew, but wished that Professor Snape would quit targeting him nonetheless.

"Now, if you will all open your books to page...what is it, Mr. Finnigan?" Snape said irritably.

All eyes moved to Seamus, and Hermione regarded her fellow Gryffindor curiously.

"Sir," the boy answered, "I've been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the paper about an Inferius..."

"No, there wasn't," Snape replied in a bored voice.

"But, sir, I heard people talking..."

"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr. Finnigan, you would have known that this so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher."

"I thought Snape and Mundungus were on the same side," Harry muttered to the other members of the trio.

Hermione was curious about the disdain as well and looked oddly at Snape, who caught her stare and proceeded to glare at Harry.

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," Snape said, pointing at the dark-haired member of the trio. "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between and Inferius and a ghost."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Snarky Snape didn't affect her anymore, and she actually found herself amused at the banter between her tutor...or whatever he was...and her best friend.

"Er...well...ghosts are transparent..." Harry replied.

Hermione let out an involuntary giggle/snort and quickly covered it up with a cough.

"Oh, very good," Snape interrupted, his lip curling in a twisted smile. Hermione stared longingly at her professor's mouth. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent.'"

Hermione was on the verge of a giggling fit now, and she tucked her head below the desk in an attempt to look as if she were searching through her book bag. When she sat back up, Snape gave her a pointed look, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

At the end of the lesson, Harry, Ron and Lavender took off, abusing Snape vehemently. Hermione broke away from them swiftly and lingered behind, waiting until the classroom had cleared out before retreating back into it.

"Come to get your ten points back?" he asked casually as she approached him from behind.

"I swear you have eyes in the back of your head," she retorted, perching herself atop one of the desks at the front of the room.

"Now, that is a rumour I think you should put into circulation," he replied, straightening out the essays the class had handed in and turning around to face her.

Snape's eyes swept toward the door, then back to Hermione, at which time he looked admonishingly at her. "You should not be seen here unless it is absolutely necessary," he said, crossing his arms casually in front of him.

"It is," she replied.

Technically, she was sort of lying... She did have something she wished to tell him, but she doubted the subject even came close to bordering on absolute necessity.

When his eyebrow rose impatiently, she sat further back on the desk and began her explanation.

"Have you noticed anything funny about Draco lately?" she asked casually.

Snape's reaction surprised her. He straightened himself up and uncrossed his arms, taking a few steps toward where she sat. Waving a wandless hand at the door, he locked it and turned back to Hermione.

"Why are you asking me this?" he said seriously.

Hermione's face had fallen, and she looked up to find her worried expression mirrored in Snape's face.

"I...well, I didn't think it was serious," she replied, her eyes examining his face intensely. When he made no further comment, she continued. "Harry found out that Draco has been hiding out... doing something... He's doing it a lot actually. And he has Crabbe and Goyle stand guard for him. Only they are always Polyjuiced as someone else...usually first-year girls."

Snape nodded. "Anything else?"

"Severus," she said, sitting up slightly so that he would give her some room to breathe. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, taking a step back. "You should be leaving," he added, unlocking the still-sealed door, but using his wand this time.

"No," she replied adamantly, shaking her head. "I just told you something that you were obviously surprised to find out, and now I want some answers. Why the piqued interest over Draco's activities?"

"You know I cannot comment on that matter," he replied semi-casually.

She let his words sink in, thinking them over. So his task had something to do with Draco... but what? Harry had been saying all year that he thought Draco had taken the Mark. She had always put the assumption up to Harry's hatred and obsession with the Slytherin boy, but now she wasn't so sure...

She sighed. "He's joined, hasn't he?" she asked softly, reluctantly looking up at Snape.

He looked as if he was going to change the subject, but after a pointed glare from her, he shook his head in defeat. "Yes, he has joined."

"And the task? It has something to do with Draco?" she added, and he nodded in the affirmative.

"I see," she said, thinking the situation over. "Harry's onto him," she said eventually, looking up. Snape snorted, but Hermione shook her head in protest. "I know you think he is an idiot," she said, eyeing him earnestly, "but he has been following him all year, and I would not be at all surprised if he found a way into the Room of Re..."

She paused in mid-sentence, throwing her hands up to cover her mouth.

"The Room of Requirement?" he said, and his face moved as if he had just found the hidden location of Atlantis. "Of course..."

"Wait, you know about the room?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"You are not the only one in the school who has read Hogwarts, A History, you know," he said, giving her a half-hearted glare. "Now, moving on," he continued, "you have your Apparition examination in a couple of weeks, do you not?"

"Yes," she answered brightly.

"Well, I would imagine it to be in your best interest if we suspended our lessons until after the test," he replied.

Her face fell, her jaw slackening in surprised disappointment. "But, why?" she nearly yelped. "It is not as if I can practice inside school grounds!"

His voice was casual when he answered her. "No, you cannot. However, one is supposed to perform their Apparition test with a wand. It would seem counterproductive, therefore, to confuse you with wandless magic with your test right around the corner."

"I will be fine," she protested.

"Two weeks from now, your lessons will resume," he said with inarguable finality.

She opened her mouth to argue further, at which time a knock on the door made her jump up off of the desk. He shuffled her quickly to the front of the room, opening the door and admitting a group of first years.

"I have already told you that I do not give extensions, Miss Granger," he bellowed, causing a blonde first-year Hufflepuff to jump and squeak as she scurried past him. "The next time you ask, it will be twenty points from Gryffindor. Last time I checked, your house could not afford the loss."

She shook her head as she rounded the corner. Smartass.

***

"For the last time, just forget about Malfoy," Hermione told Harry firmly.

They were sitting in the courtyard with Ron after lunch, and Harry had been talking about Draco obsessively for the majority of the afternoon. His suspicions now confirmed to her by Professor Snape (though she had no intention of divulging said information to Harry), she felt it best to let Severus deal with the problem. Harry had other tasks ahead of him, retrieving Slughorn's memory for one (a fact that she had reminded him of several times that afternoon), and she felt he should be concentrating his efforts in that direction.

A small girl with black pigtails approached the trio, looking uneasy, and handed Harry a note. The three of them crowded together to read it, Ron smacking his head into Hermione's and apologizing profusely.

The gist of the note was that Aragog the spider had died, and Hagrid wanted the trio to sneak out after dark to attend the giant beast's funeral.

"Aragog's dead," Hermione said firmly, protesting the request. "If it were a question of saving him..."

"...I'd want to go even less," Ron cut in.

They all agreed that Hagrid would simply have to conduct the funeral on his own.

"Look," Hermione said, attempting to switch subjects before the boys changed their minds. "Potions will be almost empty this afternoon with us all off doing our tests... Try and soften Slughorn up a bit then!"

"Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?" Harry responded bitterly.

"Harry, that's it...get lucky!" Ron squealed.

Hermione's jaw dropped as she began to form a mental picture of Harry propositioning random girls while she and Ron were away. Ron gave her a withering look, turning back to Harry.

"Use your luck potion!"

It was as if a light bulb went on above Hermione's head. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it?"

"I dunno... I was sort of saving it..." Harry replied, drifting off into a world of his own.

Hermione watched him with dumbfounded look on her face for a few moments before shaking him lightly by the shoulder. "Harry? Are you still with us?" she asked.

"Wha...? Yeah, of course," he replied, apparently coming to his senses. "Well... okay. If I can't get Slughorn to talk this afternoon, I'll take some Felix and have another go this evening."

The amplified bell rang overhead in the castle and surrounding grounds, and Ron and Hermione hurriedly packed up their things, bidding Harry goodbye and good luck. They were headed off to their Apparition tests, and Ron looked like he would surely spit up green if they didn't get them over with soon.

"You'll do fine, Ronald," she said consolingly on the walk down to the school gates. "Stop worrying yourself."

Ron nodded, though Hermione was quite sure he hadn't heard a word she'd said. While Ron was nervous about passing his test, Hermione was anxious to see Professor Snape outside of class again for the first time in over two weeks. He'd looked well enough in class, but he'd seemed a bit paler than usual over the past few days, and she wondered if he was getting enough sleep at night. His assigned task seemed to be weighing heavily on him, and she found her curiosity regarding the subject increasing by the day.

Unfortunately, Ron didn't do fine, as she'd anticipated he would. He'd splinched an eyebrow, causing him to fail the test.

"He just failed," Hermione whispered to Harry before Ron had a chance to enter the common room that night. "The examiner spotted that he'd left half an eyebrow behind... How did it go with Slughorn?"

"No joy," Harry answered sourly, changing the subject back to Apparition when Ron entered the room.

Later that night, after darkness had fallen, the trio waited until the boys' dorm was empty and proceeded up to Harry and Ron's bedroom.

After measuring out a small amount of Felix Felicis, Harry drank it quickly, and Ron and Hermione watched on in anticipation.

"What does it feel like?" Hermione asked, searching for signs of any mal reaction.

Harry jumped suddenly to his feet, smiling.

"Right... I'm going to Hagrid's," he said confidently.

Hermione was appalled by his lack of judgment and gave him a sour look. "No, Harry...you've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?"

"No," Harry protested adamantly. "I'm going to Hagrid's. I've got a good feeling about going to Hagrid's."

Hermione was concerned and took the bottle in her hand, turning it over carefully. "This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?"

She held the vial up to the candlelight, swirling it carefully. Harry was acting very strangely, and she wondered if someone could have replaced his prize with something sinister.

She couldn't grab her wand with the boys watching her, and alerting them to her currently forming plans would arouse much too much suspicion about her relationship with Snape.

She lowered a wandless hand to the floor, her palm facing Harry's unlatched backpack underneath his bed. Shutting her eyes tightly and picturing Harry's Potions kit in her mind, she thought clearly, 'Accio empty vial.'

Several seconds passed, and she was just about to forego the effort when she felt something small and smooth meet the underside of her hand.

She smiled. Glancing down quickly, she thought, 'Aguamenti.'

The glass turned cool against her skin, and chancing another fleeting look down at her palm, she confirmed that the little bottle was now filled with a chilled, translucent liquid. She dropped the new vial on the side table next to Harry's bed, tucking the one filled with Felix Felicis into her pocket.

Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk and practically sprinted out the door, and after a significant glance in Ron's direction, the two of them followed quickly after him.

Without so much as a peek back in his friends' direction, Harry threw on the cloak and slipped through the portrait hole unnoticed by anyone in the area.

"Listen," Hermione said to Ron after the Fat Lady had swung snugly back into place. "I am going to the Library for a bit." Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll be back shortly."

At that moment, Lavender sauntered up to Ron, looking cross. Hermione took the opportunity to leave before he thought to ask any further questions.

When she reached the dungeons, she proceeded directly to Snape's quarters, knocking quickly before letting herself in.

Snape was drawling out a sarcastic remark before she even had the door shut behind her. "Normally one would wait for the recipient of said knock to answer the do..." He stopped mid-sentence when he looked up at her, noticing the distraught expression on her face.

"I need your help to figure out what is in this," she said quickly, striding up to him and holding the bottle of Felix out in front of her.

He walked over to the wall nearest to them and held the vial up to the torchlight, swirling it slowly.

"You know what this is," he said, glaring down at her, "though I have no idea where you were able to find it."

"Slughorn gave it to Harry as a prize for the best potion in our first class. The thing is," she continued, walking around to stand directly in front of him, "after he took it tonight, he began acting very strange."

"Why on earth would he have taken this tonight?" Snape replied, looking at her curiously.

"He was going to see if he could get that memory from Slughorn," she answered, shaking her head. "But once he had taken it, he just ran off quickly, saying something about going to Hagrid's hut for Aragog's burial."

"Aragog?" Snape asked skeptically.

"Hagrid's pet spider," Hermione answered dismissively. "He died. Anyways," she continued quickly, barely taking a breath between words, "I want to make sure that no one has put anything undesirable into it."

"It is fine," Snape said in a bored voice, handing the vial back to her.

"But you didn't even test it," Hermione whined in protest.

"No need," Snape said, retreating behind his desk and organizing a stack of exam papers. "My wards are set to alert me when any Dark magic is brought into the room. That includes potions, and therefore, your solution is fine." He looked down his nose at her. "Tell Potter not to waste that," he added significantly.

"Why?" Hermione asked, brow furrowed.

"Just do it," he answered exasperatedly.

Now that she could content herself with the fact that Harry hadn't been poisoned, she took a moment to observe Snape for the first time out of class in weeks. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin seemed, if possible, paler than usual.

He was being short with her tonight, which would not usually phase her, but there was something bitter in his sharp tongue this evening that made her think there was more going on than met her eye.

"Severus?" she asked gently, approaching his desk and watching him carefully. "Are you quite all right?"

"I am fine, Miss Granger," he bit back without looking up.

"Fine," she echoed quietly, tucking the vial of Felix back into her robe pocket. "You don't look fine."

"What did I just say?" he spat harshly, his face snapping up so that his eyes met hers.

She cringed at his tone, and he sighed, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"I apologize," he said quietly, eyes still shut.

"It's okay," she answered softly, wandlessly conjuring up a chair in front of his desk and perching herself carefully upon it. His eyes had opened slightly at her movements, and he smirked at her when she sat.

"You are progressing nicely," he commented, sitting in his own chair behind the desk.

"I have an excellent teacher," she replied nonchalantly, smiling at the positive mood change. He gave her a small smirk in return, and she added, "Yes, I'm quite fond of Professor McGonagall, actually."

He raised a brow at her, and she let out a small chuckle.

"Honestly, you do not look well," she said worriedly.

"Says the woman with the black bags under her eyes," he replied blandly.

She scowled at him. "Yes, but I manage to sleep every once in a while. Can you say the same?"

"No," he replied, his irritation evident in his tone.

"Look," she said bluntly, leaning forward in her seat, "I'm just worried about you. You have been so snarky lately...more so than usual," she added at his amused grin, "...and given the state of things..."

His loud hiss interrupted her comment, and her eyes widened when she saw him place a death grip on his arm with the curved palm of his other hand.

"Now?" she asked, jumping up from her seat.

He nodded and ran for the door, grabbing his cloak before exiting without a word. She stood in silence and watched the door shut of its own accord behind him, eventually finding herself staring blankly around at the empty room.

He had seemed in more pain than the last time he'd been summoned. His instantly reddened face had been sweating by the time he had made his way to the exit, and she realized that Voldemort must have been either very angry or very pleased.

It dawned on her that there were many unseen similarities between Professor Snape and Harry. Both had an unwanted connection to Voldemort. Both could feel when the Dark Lord was extremely happy or extremely upset. Both just wanted to live out their lives in peace...

She looked at the sealed door to Severus' quarters, considering leaving for the night and speaking to him after class the next morning. She had no idea how long he would be gone or in what state he would return. That last thought made her shiver, thinking about the consequences that he would face if he had displeased his Dark master in some way. She decided to stay put, if only for a few hours, just in case Severus needed her when he arrived back at the castle.

After plucking a book off of one of the shelves...Henson's Guide to Proper Wand Work...she made her way over to the settee and settled in for what she believed would be a long night.

***

A loud bang ripped her from her slumber, and she rolled crudely off of the settee and onto the floor, her head smacking against the leg of the couch roughly.

Stars were clouding her eyes behind her lids, and she blinked rapidly into the darkness, attempting to regain her vision.

As she stood from the ground, a hard, blunt object was suddenly sticking sharply into her neck, and she inhaled quickly at the pressure.

A deep, raspy voice reached her ears from behind her in the unyielding darkness. "Who...the fuck..." he coughed, "are you?"

She swallowed hard, her body quaking. "Severus..." she whispered.

He released her at once, and she fell forward onto the carpet, turning her head in the direction where his voice had been. The lights flared to life just in time for her to see him lowering his hand from the wandless spell.

"Holy shit," she breathed loudly, scurrying up off of the floor and running toward him. "What happened to you?"

His face was covered in blood, dry, flaking mud caked into his hair and onto the skin and above his brow. His Death Eater robes were torn in several places, and his right eye was barely visible underneath the massively swollen black and blue bruise that now covered the socket.

He wavered slightly on his feet, and she placed an arm around his back, tossing his elbow behind her neck and guiding him over to the settee. He'd passed out before his head touched the cushion.

She felt like crying at the sight of him. No one deserved this, no matter what they'd done or whom they'd displeased. Pulling her wand shakily from within her robes, she pointed it at his face. "Tergeo."

She spent the next hour-or-so cleaning Severus up and mending his wounds. She tried to tell herself that the wetness on her face was due to the perspiration from all the work she was completing and was not in any way a sign that she had been crying over his pain. When he was healed, comfortable and sleeping, she pulled his customary chair up beside the couch and transfigured it into a second settee. After climbing onto the cushions and lying down, she grabbed hold of the base of Severus' couch and pulled her divan closer to his.

She lay there for some time, her body inches from his, tracing the lines of his face lightly with her fingertips. So many lines on such a young face...

She yearned to be closer to him and scooted forward slightly. His face was screwed up in what looked like slumbering concentration, his eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids. He looked utterly disturbed and saddened even whilst he was dreaming. Her heart ached at the sight, and she ran a lone finger over the freshly healed cuts on his upper and lower lips, captivated by the vision of him.

The movement did not stir him, and she leaned her face forward, driven by some unbidden force within her. Allowing her eyes to flutter shut, she pressed her lips against his, stroking lightly and gently, eliciting a rhythmic wave of butterflies in her stomach.

She sighed contentedly as she parted her lips from his mouth, opening her eyes. He was now very much awake, his large, black irises staring unflinchingly into her eyes between widely opened lids. She inhaled sharply at this unexpected surveillance, her heartbeat quickening beneath her ribcage.

She had nothing to say for herself and found that the only thing she could think to do was apologize for her intrusion. "I..."

But before her justification could continue, her voice was stifled by his mouth covering her own. The pressure he placed on her lips was steady and full of emotion, and she moved herself closer to him, her body aching for his warmth.

She reached out first, boldly placing her hand on his waste and scrunching up the material of his robes in a tight, urging fist. His kiss deepened at the motion, and she felt his arm snake around her back to pull her flush against him.

She moaned when she felt her body collide with his and was rewarded with something akin to a growl rumbling from his throat and chest until it finally escaped into her mouth, causing her to tremble.

Oxygen, at the moment, was highly overrated in the midst of their kiss. He held her tightly, and Hermione thought...in a brief moment of lucidity...that she would gladly comply with his every wish. In truth, she'd probably allow him to swallow her whole, if he only asked.

She shifted her position, and his hand fell onto her thigh closest to the cushions. He made to move it away, and her fingers flew to his, pressing his palm against her leg and holding it there firmly.

He let out a lustful moan, the noise amplified by his cavernous vocal chords. The sound was incredibly sexy, and she sighed deeply into his mouth. Apparently her actions were to his liking, as he snaked his hand upward, winding up and around to the back of her thigh, pulling her into him.

The evidence of his arousal was pressing sharply into her hip, and she broke their kiss to look at him. His eyes were clouded over with desire, his lips swollen from the fervent fondling of her tongue and mouth.

"I want you, Severus," she breathed huskily, entwining her fingers in his hair and pulling his face back down to hers. She kissed him greedily, delving into his mouth, licking along the bottom of his tongue before sucking on it seductively.

She felt a twitch against her stomach, and she removed her hand from the hair at the nape of his neck without breaking their kiss, bringing her palm between them and rubbing his covered chest roughly. Her fingers played lightly across his torso before she moved to the lower regions betwixt them, rubbing his erection through the thick material of his trousers.

He hissed into her mouth, and she paused, pulling away slightly and hoping she had not grabbed him too roughly. Her concerns were answered immediately when he ground his covered endowment against her, his lips crashing back down upon hers passionately.

Encouraged, she inched her hand up to the waist of his pants, stretching the band out and draping her fingers over the hem. He bucked forward, and she realized that her shirt must have come untucked at some point during their foreplay, as his belt buckle now pressed against her bare midriff. The cool metal was a significant contrast to his steadily warming skin, and she cried out at the sensation it delivered, purring with pleasure.

Pulling back and delving her hand down further beneath his trousers, her fingers brushed against the sparse, coarse hair that she had had a preview of oh so long ago...when he had emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. The picture spurred her on, and she sighed sensually, remembering how appealing a half-naked Severus Snape could be.

She ran her fingertips along his skin just above where his briefs were sitting snuggly against his pelvis, relishing the series of grunts and erotic twitches the motion brought from him.

In a wholly unrestrained motion...quite uncharacteristic of the man lying next to her...he tugged sharply on the bottom of her blouse, distancing it from her body.

His hand climbed boldly up under her shirt, and he pushed her brassiere up over her breasts, letting the wire rest on her collarbone. She moaned receptively as he took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it. The feeling was so erotic that it was bordering on painful, and she reflexively snuck her way under his briefs and stroked his erection fervently.

He quivered at her touch and removed his hand from her chest. She whimpered at the loss, but he quickly replaced it on her thigh, prying her legs apart slightly and running his index finger along the outer cotton of her damp knickers.

With her legs parted, she could feel the cool air hit her warm center. The feeling, combined with the agonizingly slow teasing Severus was performing with his fingertip, was steadily driving her mad. She let out a noise she hadn't thought herself capable of, a sound that belonged somewhere between "I" and "O" in the alphabet.

She lunged forward and latched onto his neck hungrily, his sweat meeting her taste buds with appetizing sweetness. He removed his finger from between her legs and pulled his other arm out from underneath her, placing his hands on her waist and shifting her back away from him.

She gave him a confused look, and he smirked, running one finger down between their torsos, tracing the line of the front of her blouse from afar. The buttons popped open and flew across the room with a loud zing, exposing her displaced bra and bare chest to the air around them.

She looked up at him in wonderment, impressed. "Smooth," she commented.

"Naturally," he replied suavely with a raised brow.

Before she could make a reciprocating move, his head dove forward, his lips latching onto the same nipple that his fingers had previously abandoned.

She was beyond thinking at this point and wriggled on the spot, her toes curling inside of her shoes. She let out an almost inaudible, "Gods, Professor, yes..."

And he stopped.

She was panting heavily, his head still tucked close to her chest, though he had released her nipple from his lips.

He sat back, looking at her with confusion in his eyes, and she furrowed her brow, perplexed.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.

"We cannot do this," he said, breathing heavily, his eyes dropping as he looked away from her.

"What?" she squeaked. "Why ever not?"

He shook his head regretfully, his nose pointed at the wall to their right. "Get dressed, Hermione."

"No!" she cried childishly, grabbing his face with her palm and turning him towards her. "What did I do wrong?"

His face went from determined to compassionate, deflating like an untied balloon. She lowered her hand to his arm, grabbing the material of his sleeve in a loose fist. Raising both palms to cup her face, he looked at her seriously through apologetic eyes.

"It would not be appropriate," he said gently, "while I am still your teacher."

She could feel the tears attempting to spring into her eyes and suppressed them vehemently. "It was appropriate about thirty seconds ago," she spat out.

He shook his head lightly, holding her gaze. "No, it was not. I should not have led you to believe..." He released her face and glanced away, sighing. "Hermione," he continued, turning back to her, "you must understand..."

"I understand," she said spitefully, dipping her shoe into the crevice between their adjoining couch cushions and kicking forward, propelling her divan away from his. "I understand perfectly."

After summoning her severed buttons and replacing them wandlessly to their rightful place on her blouse, she did up her shirt and stood, walking over to his desk and grabbing her bottle of Felix Felicis.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked.

"Fucked if you care," she said nastily, grabbing her cloak up off of the floor.

"Hermione," he said, and she pointedly ignored him, using her wand to transfigure the second settee back into its former 'chair' state.

"Hermione," he said again, this time more loudly, as she tucked her wand into her waistband and made for the exit.

"MISS GRANGER!" he bellowed, and she halted her steps, staring resolutely at the door in front of her.

She could feel the wetness seeping from her lower lids, hot tears streaking hurt trails down her cheeks. She didn't care what he had to say at this point. He could have apologized until he was blue in the face, and she still wouldn't...

"I believe it would be best if we discontinued our extra lessons," he said calmly.

What? she thought, incensed.

She balled her hands into fists, and if she had been holding her wand, she surely would have snapped it in two.

"Fine," she said softly, venomously, and resumed her trek toward the door.

"Hermione," he called softly, and she paused once more, her hand on the doorknob. "I am sorry," he said quietly, his tone guilty. "You have no idea," he continued, and Hermione had to strain her ears to catch the whispered words.

She blinked rapidly, attempting to clear the tears from her eyes. Turning to him as she opened the door, she said cruelly, "Hmmm. Two 'sorrys' in one day, Professor." She emphasized the term, the word rolling off her tongue like venom from a fang. "You are losing your edge," she added hollowly and slammed the door behind her.