Chapter 15

This Time

Chapter 15

This life is filled with hurt

When happiness doesn't work

Pain - Three Days Grace

Eighteen hours after having delivered Hermione back to their common room, Severus still sat on the chair behind the desk in his room, staring into the emptiness. He had only stirred to visit the lavatory, forgoing both food and sleep. The memory of her face, ravaged by tears...of her voice, desperately pleading...would not stop playing over and again in his mind, and it was simply more than he could bear. The only solution would be to force himself not to think at all...or to attempt to absorb himself in some other task.

Looking listlessly about his desktop, he saw the notes he had received by owl from Allison and Jared during the last two weeks. He had been far too preoccupied all holiday long with Hermione to have time to spare to think about what the Bulgarians had written, but perhaps ...

Jared

Severus dropped the letters back onto his desktop, feeling curiously disinterested in the possible progress of the non-relationship between the Allison and Jared. His own travesty of a love life was so painful he could not bear to consider someone else's.

From beneath the edge of his copy of Bleak House, he spied the faint lavender of Allison's notepaper, and he pulled it out...the last letter from her, which he had received one morning earlier in the week and failed to read. Now he broke the seal.

Adin,

P.S. I think he's finally beginning to see me that way ...

Severus dropped the letter, his weary brain tripping into sudden overdrive. The only way he could escape this current, impossible pain would be to find the cure for the Dark Mark curse...to regain his adult body and leave this school and its complications. If he were to give his complete attention to finding the cure, he would be too absorbed to think about Hermione and how he had broken her heart ... that his own was sundered, as well, scarcely merited mention.

Snatching his copy of the Lovegood notes from amongst his school things, he immersed himself in them, considering how the rearrangement of the incantation might improve the spell for the counter-curse. Anything to distract himself.

The next morning, he sent off an owl to Allison and Jared, requesting a meeting to brainstorm as soon they arrived back at the school. The students would return on Sunday...three days away... and he was anxious to begin the spell experimentation soon.

In the interim, he stayed in his room, brooding and alone, for he had not seen Bother since New Year's Eve. He suspected that she was with Crookshanks and Hermione...as if they were divorcing, and Hermione had custody of the cats. It might have been funny if he had not been so wretched ... he was not to be permitted to keep even one good thing from this entire miserable episode.

He took to visiting the kitchens outside of mealtimes to obtain nourishment. He doubted his ability to remain unmoved if he saw Hermione, and it was imperative for him to remain strong. She had honoured his request not to seek him out, sparing him the necessity of dealing with her, so it came as a harsh blow to him when he caught sight of her on Sunday afternoon, when the students returned from their holiday.

She was in the entrance hall, checking off the Gryffindors on her list as they streamed into the castle; he saw her from the first floor landing, and she looked like hell. Her hair had been gathered in a frightful bunch at her neck, her clothes looked as if she had slept in them, and her face was an unhealthy, greyish-white. Quailing at the sight of her, he fled back to Gryffindor Tower. He would stay in his room until it was time to meet with Jared and Allison to discuss the counter-curse.

Accordingly, he did not creep down to the common room until nearly eight o'clock that night, and as he attempted to move unobtrusively to the portrait hole, Neville loomed up in front of him, looking a bit like the Wrath of God.

'Hi, Neville,' he said, attempting to slip past the other boy.

'I'd like a word, Adin,' Neville said, his slightly trembling voice penetrating the dull roar of the crowd in the common room.

Severus froze in his tracks, aware of numerous pairs of eyes upon him. Harry and Ron sat together at a table, belatedly completing homework that was due the next day, while Ginny sat curled in an armchair with her pygmy puff on her shoulder, ignoring the unwavering stares of Bother and Crookshanks. Parvati and Lavender had been in deep conversation, but now, all of them were staring at Severus and Neville.

'Later,' Severus said shortly, making to move past Neville. 'I've got somewhere to be.'

Neville shifted to the side, blocking him. 'I want to know what you've done to Hermione.'

All other talk ceased as the common room occupants waited to hear the answer to Neville's question.

'I haven't done anything to her,' Severus snapped, moving to Neville's other side, only to have Neville place a hand on his shoulder and push him back.

'I saw her with you at the Christmas party,' Neville said clearly, 'and I see her now...and you're the only one who's been here with her. What did you do?'

From the corner of his eye, Severus saw Harry rise from his seat at the table, a frown on his bespectacled face as he stared at Severus. In response, Ron rose as well, and moving into the middle of the room, he glared around at the students from the lower years. 'Oi! You midgets clear out,' he ordered, making shooing motions, and a number of the younger ones fled up to the dormitories, away from the seventh-year drama.

'Mind your own business,' Severus snarled at Neville defensively.

Harry took a step towards him, a pugnacious set to his jaw. 'Hermione does look awful,' he said, staring hard at Severus. 'Did you hurt her? You know she fancies you.'

Ron stepped up to Harry's shoulder. 'She looked fine when we left, mate, and now she looks like she's been through the wringer...what do you know about that?'

Severus felt as if he were under the unforgiving glare of a microscope, being poked and prodded. In its way, it was nearly as bad as being interrogated by the Dark Lord...except he had never cared what Tom Riddle thought of him.

'Leave him alone!' Ginny stood up from her chair and crossed to stand in front of Harry and Ron, her arms crossed over her chest. 'Hermione's a big girl, and she can sort out her own problems.' She poked her brother in the chest. 'Did anyone ever call you out in public for cheating on her?' She transferred her stern look to her boyfriend. 'No one told you what a prat you were for breaking my heart, all those years.'

The duo dropped their eyes, and Severus had to marvel at Ginny's uncanny resemblance to her mother in that moment.

Neville looked troubled, but he stepped aside, and Severus wasted no time; he hurried through the portrait hole, reflecting that he owed Ginny a big favour.

Allison and Jared were waiting for him in the Room of Requirement with a whole new Arithmantic sequence on the chalkboard. Severus muttered a cursory greeting and stood staring at the equation for a long time, slowly following the progression of the logic. When he reached the end, he turned to them, a grim smile his answer to their anxious faces.

'I think you've nailed it,' he said. 'Let's give it a try.'

Jared looked interested, but Allison objected.

'No! We promised Professor Dumbledore we would not experiment without him.'

Severus sneered at her. 'Goody two shoes,' he muttered.

Jared interceded, his expression angry. 'Don't talk to her like that,' he said, drawing Allison into the protective circle of his arm, receiving from her a look of worshipful adoration.

Severus flinched, stung by the evidence of the Bulgarians' caring for one other. Even the two most inept, clueless people he knew could manage a romance, but not him. 'Fine, we'll wait for tomorrow,' he snapped, slouching out of the room, away from the sight of the happy couple.

He started down the corridor, wondering if the not-so-welcoming committee would still be assembled to question him. Perhaps it would be better for him to find somewhere to wait until they all went to bed. He was reviewing his possibilities when Mrs Norris, the caretaker's cat, rounded the corner; he knew Filch wouldn't be far behind, and he had no wish to receive detention for being out after curfew...wouldn't that be a fine end to an already miserable day? Resisting the urge to give the unpleasant feline a kick in passing, he returned to the common room.

Ginny was the sole occupant, and she stood when he came in. 'I have something to say to you,' she informed him baldly.

He gritted his teeth and shoved his fists into his pockets. 'Then say it,' he snapped.

'I don't know why you're afraid of Hermione,' Ginny said, a frown between her brows. 'She might have overwhelmed you, because she likes you so much...but give her a chance. Don't be a coward about it.'

With a monumental effort, he hung on to the shreds of his temper. 'Anything else?' he ground out.

Ginny shrugged and began the climb to the girl's dormitories. 'Don't be a git,' she advised without looking back.

Severus stood in the common room, glaring at the floor, struggling with himself. He was doing the courageous thing, even if no one else knew it. It would be easy to just let things happen...it was much harder to do the right thing. He forcefully pushed away the notion that going to Hermione and begging her forgiveness would solve everything, ending the suffering for them both, making his mates happy with him again. How would that help in the long run? Their relief would be short-lived, because ultimately, he couldn't give Hermione what they both wanted: a life together.

Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair. He knew he could not continue to avoid Hermione forever...she was in all of his classes, for Merlin's sake...so he went down to the Great Hall, steeling himself for his reception. Of his mates, only Jared seemed to be speaking to him, and even he was a bit stand-offish.

Severus poked at his food, still unable to find his appetite, wishing he could skive off his classes until the Special Studies class that afternoon.

A small disturbance rippled from down the table, and Severus glanced over to see Harry moving to make room for Hermione. Her hair was tidier than the last time Severus had seen her...as tidy as the bushy mass ever was, he supposed...and her clothes were in perfect order. She was pale, though, and her eyes were deeply shadowed and red-rimmed. He felt sick at the sight of her, filled with guilt and longing in equal measure, and when she looked down the table, directly into his eyes, he could no longer stay there. Grabbing his bag, he strode away from the Gryffindor table, feeling as if the eyes of the entire school followed him to the door. He had now regained his rightful place in the universe: He was excluded, reviled, and comprehensively misunderstood.

The day was interminable, Hermione's presence in every class like a constant weight on his heart. Her friends were particularly solicitous of her, whilst giving him the cold shoulder, and he loathed himself for feeling the sting of rejection. He had nowhere to spend his free periods, unwilling to go to either the library alcove or the common room, for fear of finding her there. He was reduced to spending the time sitting in a little used stairwell, reading and doing his assignments. He did go to lunch, but he wolfed down the food as quickly as he could and departed before the knowledge of his isolation from the other seventh-years could depress him past the point of being able to function at all.

He entered the Special Studies class as a mass of raw emotion that afternoon, held together only by the thinnest veneer of composure. He was the first person there, but he did not sit; he was too anxious to be still. He set his bag on a worktable and paced along the back wall. When Hermione entered, she, too, seemed frayed and painfully vulnerable; he gripped the table edge to keep from going to her.

Her eyes sought him out almost instantly, questioning, but he avoided her gaze. She turned her back to him, settling in an armchair to await the beginning of class, her sadness saturating the very air of the room, making it hard for him to breathe.

Dumbledore entered with Allison and Jared, the three of them in excited conversation, and the Headmaster rubbed his hands together, smiling around at them all.

'I can't tell you how pleased I am to know that you all found the project so compelling that you worked on it over your holiday,' he said. 'In addition, you were quite right not to attempt the spell work outside of my presence...thank you for complying with my wishes.' He inclined his silver head to them formally, and Hermione took the opportunity to glare over her shoulder at Severus.

He shrugged, and she turned immediately back to the others.

'Did we work on it over the holiday?' she asked, her tone curt.

'Jared and I did,' Allison said, her tone condescending. 'Oh, and we owled Adin about it...didn't he share the letters with you?'

Apparently, Allison couldn't resist the female urge to grind her rival into the dust. Served Hermione right for being such a bitch about the Christmas party, he supposed.

Hermione did not deign to answer, but crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the chalkboard.

'Could we get started?' Severus asked. 'I think we're ready to try the spell on a living subject.'

Dumbledore looked grave. 'If you don't mind, Adin, I would like to go through the calculations one more time before we attempt to cast the spell.'

Huffing his annoyance, Severus waved a hand and leaned against the wall, his jaw set. He watched Hermione move to stand beside the Headmaster, the two of them studying the Arithmantic sequence line by line. At one point, Hermione stepped up to the chalkboard and placed her finger beneath a string of Arithmantic symbols.

'Headmaster,' she said, the intellectual exercise bringing vigour to her voice, 'Voldemort's intent was that his death would trigger the delayed portion of the Dark Mark Curse, causing those bearing the Dark Mark to die. What will be the intent in the curse we use on the experimental subject?'

Dumbledore looked grave. 'As much as it goes against the grain for all of us,' he began, ignoring the derisive snort from Severus' direction, 'I think the intent of the person who casts the corrupted Protean Charm must be death, as well...otherwise, we might not obtain authentic results.' The Headmaster then plucked a chick from the cage on the table and looked to Severus.

'Adin, will you please perform the infected Dark Mark Curse?'

Severus stepped away from the wall, every molecule of his body thrumming with purpose. With an ugly sneer upon his face, he pointed his wand at the chick, summoned intent, and cursed it. A sickly black light flowed toward the chick, engulfed it, and dissipated.

Gently, Dumbledore took the tiny bird in his hand and ruffled its fluff to expose the tiny Dark Mark now tattooed on its flesh. 'As you can see,' he said, 'the Protean Charm with the time-release component has been applied. Now, we will cast the cure for the Dark Mark Curse.'

He replaced the yellow chick on the table and turned to smile at Allison. 'Would you do the honours, Miss Dyrda?' he said.

They all stood back to give Allison a clear field. Smoothly, she swept her wand in a figure-eight and murmured the newly refined incantation. A brilliant blue light streaked across the room, illuminating the baby chick for several beats, then dispersed.

'Well done!' Dumbledore enthused. 'I could not have done better myself...which is saying something, you know. Twenty-five points to Ravenclaw!'

Allison beamed, and Severus glared at the Headmaster. 'How long do we have to wait?' he snapped...but it wasn't Dumbledore who answered him.

'Four days,' Hermione said quietly, drawing the eyes of the Room's inhabitants. 'In four days, we'll know if we can cure Professor Snape's Dark Mark Curse.'

Severus hoped he was the only one to detect the ineffable sadness in her voice.

Severus deposited his book bag in his room before going down to dinner. He felt a hollow confidence that the curse cure would work. The next question was how soon Dumbledore would consent to remove the Youthening Enchantment and cure his Dark Mark Curse. Then, in his old, scarred body, he could return to the horrible, dilapidated house he had inherited from his parents and commence his life alone. The years to come stretched before him in his imagination like a desert, devoid of anything save sorrow and regret. His mind was so full of conjecturing that he walked straight into Luna in the entrance hall.

'Adin!' she said, her pleasure at meeting him evident in her voice. 'I was waiting for you.'

He scowled at her. He ought to have been paying attention...the last thing he wanted was an in-depth discussion with Luna.

'Yeah?' he said unhelpfully.

'I've had a talk with Neville,' she informed him earnestly.

'You didn't tell him...'

'Of course not!' Luna said, her protuberant eyes shocked. 'But I've also had a talk with Hermione,' she said significantly.

Severus felt himself flush; he wondered how much Hermione had told Luna about their activities on New Year's Eve. He didn't say anything, only gave Luna a stony stare.

'I have one thing to say to you about her, sir,' Luna said. 'She knows who you are and she doesn't care...she loves you...and if you refuse to love her back, you are not saving her from unhappiness, so don't pretend to yourself that you are.'

Severus' nostrils flared as he sucked in breath with which to tell her off, but Luna did not stay to hear it; with a gentle smile, she wandered away to the Great Hall. Damn the girl for being right! Too furious to eat, Severus turned on his heel and went up to his dormitory.

Tuesday had its own brand of misery for Severus to endure.

When he went down to breakfast, he saw people crowded around the notice board, reading the new parchment posted there.

'Career Fair on Friday,' Jared said in answer to Severus' inquiring look. 'No classes that afternoon for years five through seven. Some employers will be interviewing.'

Severus shrugged indifferently at this news, but he felt sick inside as he trekked down to the Great Hall, he eyes downcast. Everyone else was preparing to begin their fresh, shiny lives when they passed their N.E.W.T.s and left school, and though he was loath to admit it, the emotion he felt when he thought about that was jealousy. There would be no fresh start for him, and in many ways, he felt he'd never had one.

He could think of nothing he would not give to be like the other seventh-years, on the brink of his adult life with a clean slate. With Hermione by his side and all the years of their lives ahead of them ...

Stop that pathetic air dreaming! the relentless voice in his mind commanded. You don't deserve anything of the kind!

'Leave me alone,' he muttered aloud, though secretly, he could only agree.

That night, hiding out in his room after dinner, trying to force time to pass faster, he was startled to receive a knock at his door. Rising to answer, he found Neville nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

'I've come to apologise,' Neville blurted, as soon as Severus opened the door.

'Forget it,' Severus said gruffly, beginning to push the door closed.

'Wait!' Neville slipped sideways into the room.

'What do you want?' Severus demanded aggressively, slamming the door closed. He was bringing his life as Adin to a close; the last thing he needed was further involvement in the lives of the other Gryffindors.

Neville swallowed. 'You always listened to me when I wanted to talk about girls,' he said, anxious eyes searching Severus' face. 'Do you need to talk to someone about Hermione?

Severus knew, even as he was doing it, that the uncontrolled laughter would alarm Neville, but he would never be able to explain to his round-faced friend how pathetic it was that a thirty-seven-year-old man should need relationship advice from the person whose Boggart he personified.

The next morning, Neville greeted him at breakfast with a cheerful smile, and Severus took the seat beside him, hoping some of the warmth would counteract the cold shoulder he was still receiving from his other mates.

He couldn't help but watch Hermione from the corner of his eye. She was still pale and pinched looking, and her shadowed eyes looked as if she'd been crying again. Bloody hell! Couldn't she see that he was no good for her...that he was doing this for her own good? Why couldn't she just get over it? Hadn't he?

Keep telling yourself that, arsehole, his inner critic replied.

He had just begun to drink his coffee when owl post arrived, and although he did not receive mail, he saw that Hermione received her Daily Prophet, as always. She unrolled it and glanced at the front page, and Severus knew from the expression on her face that she had read something significant.

He didn't have long to wonder about it; she passed the paper to Harry, who gave a crow of approval and showed it to Ron. Soon, the whole table was talking about it.

'The Ministry of Magic decided not to prosecute Snape?' Dean said, grabbing the paper from Neville. 'It's about time they came to their senses.'

'He was always on our side,' Neville said. 'Everything he did was on Dumbledore's orders...even Harry says so now.'

Severus stared down the table, stunned by the reaction of the Gryffindors. They supported him?

'He's a hero,' Hermione said clearly, standing and pulling her bag over her shoulder. 'His life was endangered every single day. He deserves a medal.'

She turned and walked away from the table, but Severus couldn't help watching her go, a new spurt of light-heartedness faintly fluttering in his chest. Her friends didn't loathe him? The mention of his name didn't bring about a storm of disgusted protests?

With sudden hunger, he filled his plate with food, and ate a hearty meal for the first time in days, his brain mightily striving to sort it all out.

That afternoon in the Special Studies class, there wasn't much to do. Severus sat on the far side of Allison and Jared, forcing Hermione to take the seat farthest from him. There was another day to go before they could tell if the cure was effective, so they lazed about in the comfortable armchairs, drinking tea against the frigid sleet pelting the castle and engaging in desultory conversation about their project.

'Headmaster, how will we know the result of the experiment?' Allison asked. 'Classes aren't meeting on Friday afternoon, because of the Career Fair...do we have to wait until class time on Monday to find out?'

Dumbledore considered her over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. 'Would you prefer to know sooner?'

'Yes,' Severus said loudly, and the others echoed his sentiments.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Then I will have house-elves notify you as soon as the results are available. I think you have all earned the right to know.'

Severus did not look at Hermione, though he felt her eyes on him. Dipping his head, he let his fringe fall, shielding his eyes, his lips thinned to a straight white line. Just two more days...two more days, and he could detach himself from her forever, going back to being friendless, loveless, and alone...the way it was supposed to be.

On Friday morning, Severus awoke feeling oddly optimistic. He rubbed his hair dry before the mirror in his room, thinking that surely the chick would survive the activation of the time-delayed death curse, which meant he, Severus, would no longer be in limbo. And the Ministry had finally decided not to prosecute him. It wasn't exoneration...it was far from the medal Hermione had declared he deserved ....

Hermione. The mere thought of her name was enough to derail him into pointless, fruitless fantasies of a future that would never, ever be. Dragging his comb through his hair, he ruthlessly dragged his mind back to reality. Today the experiment would be completed, and he would leave this place and these people...Hermione...and never have to think of them...Hermione!...again. It would be best for everyone.

His positive mood lasted through breakfast but quickly eroded in Potions. Slughorn was in a jovial mood, and he rubbed his fat hands together as he explained their class assignment.

'Today, class, we will brew Pepper-Up Potion for use in the school infirmary. Those whose potion is sub-standard will receive a zero for today's lesson; those whose work is up to par will receive full marks plus five House points!' He beamed about at the students as if he were conferring a rare treat upon them. 'Good luck!' he cried and retired to his desk.

Severus immediately began to line up his ingredients. He had brewed literally thousands of batches of Pepper-Up in his years as the Potions master; he could do it in his sleep.

To his left he heard a distinct sniff, and he glanced at Allison, a frown on his face. 'What's wrong with you?' he demanded impatiently.

'Jared ignored me at breakfast,' Allison said, retrieving a tissue from the pocket of her robes and dabbing at her eyes.

'He was probably thinking about something else,' Severus said testily, beginning to chop the pepper-grass with surgical precision.

Allison grabbed his left arm, disrupting his work. 'Do you think so?' she asked, leaning in toward him anxiously.

A loud banging noise came from the right, and Severus jerked around to see Hermione crouched on the floor, angrily throwing porcupine quills back into her upended cauldron, whilst Zabini looked on in disgust. As she stood, Hermione sent him a look of burning reproach. Severus recoiled as if struck and turned back to his work station, only to find a now perky Allison had taken up her knife and begun chopping.

'You were chopping it too fine,' she said condescendingly. 'It says "chopped", not "minced".'

'I happen to know for a fact that the more finely it's chopped, the more efficacious it will be,' he hissed at her, snatching up the habanera pepper and beginning to meticulously de-seed it.

'You should wear your gloves for that,' Allison said bossily.

'It is not necessary if you cast a Shield Charm on your hands before you begin,' he snapped, wondering if Slughorn would notice...or mind...if Severus cast a Silencing Charm on his annoying partner.

'You're not supposed to cast charms in Potions,' Allison said indignantly.

Severus rounded on her, his silver dagger clutched in his hand. 'Know-it-all!' he spat at her angrily.

There was an audible gasp from Hermione's direction, followed by her voice, sounding simultaneously infuriated and tearful. 'No!' she shrieked. 'I'm the know-it-all!'

Slughorn's head rose from his marking, his eyes wide with alarm; he obviously had no idea how to handle his prize student indulging in an emotional melt-down in the middle of his dungeon. There was a shocked silence, followed by snorts and titters from some of the other students, but Hermione did not wait to hear them. Grabbing her bag, she rushed out of the classroom without a word to anyone.

Severus didn't know whether to laugh or to swear. Allison had returned to mincing pepper-grass, acting as if nothing out of the way had occurred, but Harry and Ron were glaring daggers at Severus.

Ron tilted his head towards the door, man-to-man. 'Ball's in your court, mate,' he said quietly.

Severus pulled himself to his full height, the Potions master, preparing to annihilate Weasley with a few well-chosen words. The girl was, after all, their best friend, not his...he was going away, leaving her behind, leaving them all behind...and the broken heart from which she suffered would soon heal ...

No! He didn't want to go away from here, away from this life; he didn't want to leave her...and no one knew better than he that broken hearts bloody well never healed.

Adin's grief-stricken distress overwhelmed Severus' reasoned logic. Blindly, he turned from Ron and tossed his dagger back into his Potions kit, shoving it into his bag. 'Fine,' he muttered and stalked out of the classroom in Hermione's wake.

He hesitated in the in the entrance hall, debating where she might have gone, and eschewing the common room as too obvious, he climbed to the fourth floor and set out for the library. With each step he took, he fought to firm his resolve, deliberately stoking his anger towards her: for making a scene in public and involving him; for moping about for the last week, making him feel bad; for being too damn appealing and appallingly out of his reach.

He erupted into the alcove...their alcove...and dropping his bag on the table where she sat, he cast the Muffliato Spell and began to shout. 'Miss Granger, you are insufferable!' he thundered.

Hermione flung herself out of her chair, knocking it over in the process. 'You called her a know-it-all!' she screeched, her eyes wild.

Sweet Merlin, how he longed to hold her.

The magnitude of his folly burst upon him like a physical blow, and the inner professor began to scream at him. Get out! Get out, you fool! You're alone with her! Leave now!

He ignored the turmoil in his mind. 'It's not a term of endearment, you silly girl!' he snapped, shoving his hands into his pockets, striving desperately to hold it together.

Her lips trembled pathetically. 'It's what you called me,' she whispered.

Circe's knickers, she was crying. He loathed crying females; they were impossible creatures ... No, it was Hermione, and when Hermione cried, all he wanted to do was to hold her and soothe her and ...

He gritted his teeth, and in his pockets, his hands clenched into fists as words tumbled from his lips. 'She may be a know-it-all, but you are the insufferable one...and if I can't have you ...' He shut his mouth, appalled at what he had said.

'You can have me,' she whispered, taking a step towards him, hands outstretched.

Get out while you can, fool! the voice shouted.

He stood straight and leant back, as if to withdraw from the range of fire. 'I told you I can't,' he whispered, the agony rising in his chest, poisoning every breath he drew.

She took another step forward, her hands reaching for and grasping the front of his robes. 'I don't care about anything but us,' she murmured, her eyes fastened hungrily upon his lips.

Dear God, there had been a valid reason why he had avoided being alone with her ...

'You'll think better of that in time,' he said stiffly.

Her chin lifted. 'I can think better than you give me credit for, Professor Snape,' she said, and the invocation of his name...of his other identity...burnt him, as if she had spattered him with undiluted bubotuber pus. No...he was Adin to her ... She didn't know Professor Snape...didn't love Professor Snape ...

'I don't see how,' he muttered automatically, perilously close to babbling. 'I can hardly think in this situation.'

She moved closer still, her gaze never leaving his face. 'What situation is that, Professor?' she whispered, her loving, hopeful brown eyes pleading her case more eloquently that her words ever could.

He swallowed, unable to look away from her. Girls didn't look at him that way...Severus Snape had never been the sort of bloke to evoke such melting looks from pretty girls.

She is looking at you, she is talking to you, and she is loving you, Adin observed.

A physical shudder rippled over him from head to toe as something inside of him broke free. The sudden release of constraint had him backing her up against the wall, and she went willingly, a sort of blazing triumph in her expression. He dipped his head until his nose grazed her cheek and his lips touched the shell of her ear. 'The situation, my insufferable know-it-all, is that I love you past the point of reason or rational thought, and this is all I know to do about it.'

And he kissed her, hot and hard and needy, her open-mouthed reception suggesting that she approved his choice of action. They devoured one another, their week-long separation flavouring each thrust of their tongues with keen desperation. She tugged at his hair, caressed his jaw, and ran her hands up beneath his jumper, untucking his shirt and caressing the bare skin of his torso, as if to make sure everything was where she had left it. He breathed her, tasted her, pressed her to him as if trying to absorb her into himself. Leave her? Impossible! He had been insane to try. She was his reason, his hope, and his salvation.

Pop! 'Sir and Miss?'

They broke their kiss, and Hermione attempted to draw away from him, but he kept her trapped in the circle of his arms, merely turning an irritated face to the cowering house-elf.

'Speak!' he snarled, earning a protesting, 'Adin!' from Hermione.

The elf bowed low and spoke to its knees. 'Professor Dumbledore is ordering Mooky to tell Sir and Miss when the little chickie experiment is over,' the elf explained.

A powerful combination of exultation and consternation assaulted Severus, and Hermione squeezed past him, only to grab his hand. Their eyes met and held, and he knew there was nothing to fear from this moment or any other: Their connexion was immutable. She smiled and tugged his hand. 'Come on!' she cried, and they ran together through the library, past an outraged Madam Pince, and thundered up three flights of stairs to reach, completely out of breath, the Room of Requirement.

Severus sagged against the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and the rampaging trolls, gasping for air, but Hermione paced up and down until the doorway appeared. Together they hurried to the cage where the cursed chick rested in solitary splendour. The little fellow was in fine fettle, hopping about and chirping, just as if he had not endured the Dark Lord's most perverted spell.

'Shall I?' Hermione breathed, and Severus nodded. She released the catch and reached in to capture the baby chick, ruffling its down, revealing an unmarked body. Hermione had tears in her eyes as she held the chick out to Severus. 'Not only is it still alive,' she said, 'but it's no longer Marked...we did it!'

Severus took the little bird and performed a thorough examination of its body, even going so far as to cast a Dark Detection Spell. The chirpy little chap was in perfect health and free of any Dark taint. Severus returned the chick to its cage and looked to Hermione with amazement. 'We did it,' he breathed, repeating her words, and she flew at him again in her jubilation. He caught her, crushing her to him, burying his face in her hair.

It was too much...he couldn't wrap his mind around it: He could safely return to his rightful body and still be free of the Dark Mark. He could be himself again without fear of dying a horrible, pointless death. He could reclaim the life he had left four months ago, and the vital, glorious girl in his arms would love him still...want him still.

He tilted her chin up, his lips curved into a smile, his fingertips gentle upon her skin. 'I owe this to you,' he said.

Her smile echoed his. 'No, we all worked on it,' she objected. 'I may have found the way to include the time release component, but Allison found the way to cure it.'

She felt so right in his arms and smelled like heaven; he could not resist burying his face in her throat, his open mouth upon her skin, and soon they were locked in an embrace, picking up precisely where they left off in Firenze's forest clearing, touching one another urgently, as if their lives depended on it.

'My dormitory will be empty now,' he murmured to her.

It was Hermione who broke the kiss, stepping back from him, her face flushed and lips swollen from the violence of their kisses. 'We have to get to class,' she said. 'I can't wait to see Allison and Jared...do you think they know?'

Severus surveyed her with half-lidded eyes, debating whether he could convince her to skive off and go to his room. But she began to straighten her clothing, setting right the disturbances he had made whilst trying to caress every square inch of her body, and as he watched, a half-formed thought nagged at him.

'Go on to class,' he urged her, adjusting himself to facilitate walking and grabbing his bag from the floor. 'There's something I have to do.'