Two

Hermione's heart hammered wildly in her chest, roaring above the blasts and hexes surrounding her. There. He was right there. If she called out his name, he would hear. But she didn't. She stayed silent. She watched her professor throw curse after curse into the crumbling ruins of Hogwarts. To the untrained eye, it looked like his targets were just ducking out of reach, but Hermione knew better. He moved with such poise, such grace. Snape dueling was like a dance, and she couldn't get eno—

"Oof!"

"Sorry, Hermione. Come on, we have to get to the Chamber of Secrets."

Ron pulled her along, oblivious to her fascination with Snape. She let her professor slide out of view as she gripped Ron's hand tightly in hers, running through the rubble to the second floor. Down to the Chamber they slid, landing on a pile of bones. The cup. They had to destroy it. But Ron wanted her to do it. Why? No. She couldn't. It was too much.

But she did. She did. Then, suddenly, Ron was bringing his arms around her, seeking her lips with his.

No. It was wrong. So wrong. She wanted rough lips, her professor's lips, hard and unyielding. Not Ron's. She threw herself into the kiss, imagining Snape's harsh passion instead of Ron's boyish inexperience. When they broke apart, Ron laughed nervously. Snape never would have laughed. He would have tugged at her hair, nipped her neck.

Stop, Hermione, she thought. Snape isn't here, and even if he was, he wouldn't bloody well kiss you. He took out his frustration on you once. Leave it alone.

The pair ascended the Chamber and regrouped with Harry.

"Right," said Harry. "Only the snake left. But we need to re-strategize first."

The trio nodded in unison and began the trek up to the top of the castle for what limited privacy they could get. Hermione, however, stopped short along the third floor corridor.

There he was again, robes billowing behind him.

"Boys," she said, "I'll be right back."

They protested, of course. It was too dangerous. But she was the brightest witch of the age. Reluctantly, her captors let her off, promising to come after her if she were gone for more than twenty minutes. Hermione scurried down the corridor, wand out, just in case. It took her a bit to find him. He was in an unused classroom looking at a rather ugly stained glass window. He didn't acknowledge her. She felt the crackle of his magic in the air, felt it surge around her protectively. She came to stand beside him, her arm brushing his.

"Rather missing the battle, sir."

"Miss Granger?"

"Er, I only meant— shouldn't you be at the helm? For our side or his. Doesn't matter. I just thought you'd want to be there after all you've sacrificed."

"And what do you know of my sacrifices?" he sneered. She didn't respond. "Have you destroyed the Horcruxes and failed to tell me? Or are you still traipsing the countryside blindly?"

"No," she replied. "Nagini is left, and I have the sneaking suspicion that Harry is a Horcrux as well."

Snape sighed. "Yes. Potter's one of them. That's what I'm supposed to tell him. That's the big reveal. And that I'm a spy. But you, dear know-it-all, figured it out." Again Hermione was silent. "Well? Nothing for your frightening professor?"

She smiled wanly. "No, sir. I'm quite worn down at this point. I only wanted your presence for a moment. I quite enjoyed it last time, you know. I'd relish it again."

"Impertinent chit," he muttered.

They turned to face one another, staring for several minutes. Hermione started when the telltale shuffle of Harry and Ron echoed down the hall.

"Be safe, sir."

"And you, Miss Granger."