49- Growing

Standard disclaimer goes here.

A/N: This has been a long time coming, but again, it's really long and covers several days, so please forgive me. As always, check out my LJ for update and progress info. http://pern-dragon.livejournal.com/ And, check out this awesome "trailer" xtahsee made for this fic on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIgA-K0pbSM It's fantabulous! Anyway, thanks, luff, and chocolate to Ladyofthemasque, SnivellusSnape, and yutamiyu! *hugs* Hope you all enjoy...

Chapter 49- Growing

Crookshanks's eyes snapped open, instantly alert. He recognized the dark man crouching on the far side of the armchair in the shadows and relaxed again. Lifting his head, he wriggled out from under Hermione's lax hand and trotted to the foot of the bed. Gazing amiably at the figure creeping forward, Crookshanks meowed in greeting.

Snape had judged his arrival to hide behind the armchair, just in case Hermione was awake after all. Seeing the room dark but for the moonlight shining through the window, he inched forward, to better see her as she slept. He froze as he saw movement, but relaxed when he realized it was the half-Kneazle. The creature plopped at the end of the bed and watched him. Then, he meowed.

Snape immediately dropped to the floor, panicked that Hermione would wake. Staring up at the squashed face looking down at him where he was sprawled on the carpet, he gestured urgently for Crookshanks to be quiet. In the silence following Crookshanks's greeting, Snape could hear his heart pounding. He looked imploringly up at the beast, wondering if Legilimency worked on magical animals. On the bed, Hermione shifted, resettling with a tiny sigh. After several long moments of silence, Snape looked back at Crookshanks, who was staring at him with a rather amused air.

Locking eyes, Snape thought hard at the animal, Don't wake her! I'm not supposed to be here. You know I mean no harm. Just don't wake her! He wasn't sure if it worked, but Crookshanks merely gazed at him a moment more, then yawned, dropping to the bed regally to curl his tail around him. Blinking sleepily, he purred.

Snape exhaled slowly in relief, being sure to make no noise as he did so. Upon hearing the purr, Snape cautiously lifted himself off the floor, peering warily over the edge of the bed at Hermione's slumbering form. Easing back onto his heels, he stayed in a crouch, reaching up and scrubbing Crookshanks behind the ears in gratitude.

Crookshanks purred more, leaning into his touch. Snape felt a small smile spreading his lips, and he shook his head wryly at his panic. His stroking faltered as he focused on Hermione again, rising from his crouch. Crookshanks butted imperiously at his hand, demanding more attention. Rolling his eyes at the animal, he resumed dragging his fingers through the thick fur as he edged around the bed, gazing down at Hermione.

The moonlight was enough to show her face, smooth in a peaceful sleep, riotous hair shoved above her head on the pillow. She was on her side, hugging a second pillow, with Snape's shirt mashed between said pillow and her face. Snape was hit with an almost overwhelming desire to replace that pillow with his person, so she'd be wrapped around him instead.

He stood to one side, simply watching her steady breathing as she slept on, oblivious to his scrutiny. Utterly enthralled, he stood there for what seemed like ages. Finally, Hermione stirred again, and Snape jerked away, blinking rapidly and inwardly protesting the stiffness of his muscles after so long without moving. He backed stealthily away to the armchair again, noting that Crookshanks was lying in the seat, eyeing him.

Shooting a sheepish half-smile at the animal, Snape reached down with both hands and made as if to scoop him up. Raising an eyebrow in query, he inclined his head toward Crookshanks, and Crookshanks stood, stretching luxuriously. Peering up at the man with lofty acquiescence, Crookshanks remained silent as Snape smirked and picked him up, sitting in the chair and depositing him on his lap. Settling himself with studied nonchalance, Crookshanks began purring again, vibrating against Snape's legs as the man stroked his fur and scrubbed under his chin.

Snape leant his head against the back of the chair, gazing at Hermione as he enjoyed the warmth of Crookshanks in his lap. Lulled by the purr, Snape dozed off.

The moon had changed position in the sky by the time Snape was awakened by Crookshanks standing on his lap, front paws on Snape's chest, butting his head against Snape's face. Glancing wildly about, disoriented, Snape tamped down his panic and stifled his sharp breathing. Looking down into the furry face inches from his own, Snape sighed in relief that Crookshanks had woken him before Hermione had a chance to wake. Lifting his hands to thread into the thick ruff of fur behind his ears, Snape pressed his forehead against Crookshanks's and barely whispered, "Thank you, my friend." Crookshanks rubbed against him and backed away, looking smug.

Snape stood slowly after Crookshanks leapt from his lap. Vainly brushing at the ginger hairs clinging to his lounge wear, he cast one last longing look at Hermione before he nodded farewell to the animal and Disapparated.

Crookshanks sneezed and jumped onto the bed to curl up with his mistress again. It really was a shame the dark man couldn't stay...his lap was ever so comfortable, and his caresses were soothing...almost as good as Hermione's!

******* ************

The weekend sped by, and the cast was looking forward to Tuesday's rehearsal. After the surprising events at the last one, many of the Gryffindors were wondering if Snape was going to be as civil again or if he'd revert back to his usual sour self.

Monday, wary whispers circulated to the effect that Snape had been almost decent in classes, and the shock of it made students wonder what could be wrong with him. Hermione and Ginny, upon hearing the incredulous mutterings, exchanged amused looks, eyes dancing with suppressed laughter.

Tuesday, Ginny managed to grin up at Snape during Potions class, while everyone else was otherwise occupied, and Snape cast a quick glance about the room before smirking back, one brow arching slightly.

At the end of the period, when everyone was filing out, Ginny offered a bright, "See you at rehearsal, Professor."

Snape looked at her and inclined his head politely, responding with a pleasant, "Indeed. Good day, Miss Weasley." He saw the startled looks that the remaining students snapped between him and Ginny, and he stifled a snort of mischievous glee. The wicked look on Ginny's face was almost enough to break his composure, as it was obvious she was enjoying how his new demeanour confounded everyone.

That evening, Snape collected Hermione at dinner, going so far as to individually greet everyone seated with her, "Good evening, Miss Weasley, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom," with a cordial nod. Puzzled looks and stammered retorts gave evidence of the success of his ploy, and when he and Hermione reached the corridor, she peered up at him with a smile that expressed both exasperation and amusement before he gripped her arm and Apparated them to his quarters.

Safe in his sitting room, Hermione dissolved into giggles. Gathering her into his arms and gazing down his nose at her, he murmured a lofty, "Pray tell, what is so amusing?"

Voice rippling with laughter, Hermione said, "You know bloody well what's so funny... You! I've heard the gossip about you being nicer lately. And I can tell you're enjoying disconcerting everyone with it, too!" She snorted and peered up at him through her lashes, her mood shifting. "I do want to tell you how glad I am that you have made such an effort, dearest. It means a lot to me. Particularly with how you've treated Harry. Thank you." She lifted one hand to mould it against his cheek and stretched up to plant a tender kiss on his lips.

Snape tightened his embrace, enjoying her kiss and the feel of her body against his. Backing away slowly, he murmured, "For you, love, I'll do whatever I can. Come, let's get going." Releasing her, he stepped to the chair, nodding for her to get the hair products.

Hermione retrieved them from his bathroom cabinet and took her familiar place behind him, brush in hand. Blithely, she said, "Severus, may I ask you some more questions?"

Snape dropped his face into his hand, stifling a groan. As she tugged his head back up, he said, in a long-suffering tone, "Haven't we dug up enough bad memories already? Must we continue?"

Hermione caressed his shoulder soothingly. "I'm not talking about anything heavy. More like the little things we discussed before. Like, I know what your favourite scents are, but what about your favourite foods or drinks? See, simple things." She squeezed his bicep encouragingly and Snape gave a long, gusty sigh.

"Very well. All right, my favourite meal is one my mother made every Sunday for dinner: baked chicken, fried potatoes with onions, and shredded green beans. When money was most tight, we wouldn't often have meat, but she always made sure we had a chicken on Sundays. Simple fare, but it tastes of good memories."

Hermione beamed, smoothing the pomade through his hair. "Sounds lovely. I like all of those choices too. If there were any special seasonings she used, do tell me, so I can remember to use them whenever I decide to make your favourite meal."

Snape blinked, his chest tightening. His voice low, he said, "You would do that?"

Hermione gently turned his head, leaning around his shoulder to face him. "Of course, dear heart. If I have my way, I'll be happily making your favourite meal every Sunday for the rest of our lives."

Snape sprang forward, kissing her fiercely. When he finally backed away, he flashed her a sheepish grin and mumbled, "So... what about you?"

Hermione resumed her task and said, "Well, you were there for one of my favourite meals. But, I'd say that I would rather have sautéed shellfish, a baked potato with lashings of sour cream, and steamed broccoli and cauliflower." She paused for a moment before adding, "With chocolate mousse for dessert, of course."

Snape burst out laughing at her comment. "But of course! And what would you have to drink with such a feast?"

Hermione thought for a moment before saying, "Well, a chocolate milkshake would be good, but if I was really thirsty, I'd love an ice cold orange fizzy drink." The tone of her voice indicated an almost reverent regard for said beverage.

Snape drawled, "If you're going to drool, do try to avoid getting it in my hair."

Hermione voiced an inarticulate sound of indignation and shoved his shoulder, making him duck away from her attack. "Severus! That's disgusting!"

Snape turned a wickedly unrepentant smirk on her and said, "What? You sounded positively enamoured. I've seen you with the mousse; I doubt I'd like being between you and this 'fizzy drink' you speak of with such devotion."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in pique. "Fine! Never mind that. What's your favourite drink?"

Black eyes still glittering with amusement, Snape queried, "Alcoholic or not?"

Hermione pulled up, blinking. "Oh. I never thought of that. Um, not."

Snape settled back in the chair, allowing Hermione to finish with the pomade. "It should come as no surprise to you that my favourite choice now is tea with honey and lemon."

Hermione smiled, darting forward to plant a kiss on his neck. "Smooth talker..." Snape turned his head and she kissed him. As she backed away, she frowned and said, "So, you have a favourite alcoholic drink too?"

Snape nodded slowly, sensing her unease. He uttered a short, "Firewhisky. Wizarding alcohol."

Hermione was silent. After a pregnant pause, she said, "I didn't realize you were a drinker."

Snape could tell from her tone that she was verging on distressed. In an effort to appease her, he said, "I don't drink often. Well... anymore. I used to use it as an aid to relax from the stresses of my days as a spy. Clearly, I don't have as much stress anymore, and I haven't had any since the night..."

He had stopped rather abruptly, and Hermione urged, "Since the night you what? Go on."

Snape cleared his throat. His voice was low as he said, "The night we found out we would be going to see the play. I was overwhelmed with the prospect of meeting your parents. But, I didn't drink very much that night. The last time I indulged too much was the night I first read the play. That was the night I first recognized my attraction to you. I had been struggling with the whole situation of being cast, and I drank more than I should have. I lost my self-control under the influence of the Firewhisky and went to bed wallowing in the guilt of wanting you." He trailed off lamely, clearly embarrassed at his indiscretion.

Hermione secured his hair in an elastic and caressed his shoulder as she stepped around in front of him. She was twisting her hands together, and her shoulders were tense. "I don't care for alcohol. I've learnt too much about the negative things it can do to people, and I don't like the way it smells, let alone tastes. I've seen people get stupid and make poor decisions just because they'd been drinking, and I don't like being around it. But, you're a grown man, and it's not my place to tell you not to drink if you want to."

Snape reached out and grasped her hands, stilling their nervous movements. "Hermione, love, it's not even an issue. Really. If it makes you uncomfortable, I'm certainly not going to throw it in your face."

Hermione gazed anxiously into his earnest face, relaxing and heaving a deep sigh. "Okay. Thank you. I'm sorry I'm so odd about this."

Snape looked at her fondly and tugged her into his lap. "It's all right."

Hermione snuggled against him, quiet for a moment as she enjoyed his embrace. After a beat, she said, in a tiny voice, "I do like virgin piña coladas..."

Snape chuckled, hugging her. Teasing, he said, "Hmm, so my plan of getting you roaring drunk so I may take advantage of you isn't completely foiled; I can still ply you with piña coladas, claiming they're virgin when they're not..."

Hermione scowled at him and pushed at his chest, giving up after a token resistance when he strengthened his grip around her in his lap. Finally, her expression cleared and she smirked at him, "You needn't use alcohol to get into my knickers. I'll have you know that you intoxicate me quite enough to be able to 'take advantage of me.' Besides, is it really taking advantage if I'm egging you on?" She giggled at the reproachful glance he cut at her.

Snape felt a tingle race through him at her words. Forbidden thoughts of Apparating to her room and "taking advantage" of her in her own bed ran rampant through his mind. His reproachful look morphed into a smouldering one, and Hermione gasped.

A surge of excitement ended with a liquid surge in her knickers as Snape closed the distance between them, pinning her with a deep, sensual kiss. One hand snaked up her leg, cupping her hip under her robes and skirt. She moaned into his mouth and squirmed, feeling his erection beneath her legs.

They snogged heatedly for a moment, before Snape jerked back, shaking his head violently to clear it. With a muttered oath, he saw the time and rolled his eyes. "We have to go."

Hermione slid off his lap and straightened her clothing, patting her hair and fanning her hands to cool her flaming cheeks. Snape stood somewhat gingerly, crossing to pick up his mask by the door. Beckoning for Hermione to join him, he Apparated them upstairs, depositing them about halfway down the corridor leading to the Hall. Releasing each other, they strode quickly to the doors, joining the rest of the cast as they entered.

Most of the students cast curious looks at Snape, wondering how he would behave this time. Ignoring their glances, Snape glided regally down the aisle after them.

Dumbledore eagerly gestured for everyone to take their places to begin rehearsal. Fiddling with the music box, he nodded absently to Colin's muttered query about the singing spell. Most of the cast lined up, waiting for Dumbledore to finish his adjustments and cast Suaviloquentia on them. When he had done so, Dumbledore said, "Tonight we run through the scenes from Raoul and Mme. Giry to the graveyard. I shall be handling the sets again, and we'll still be using the music box. I'd like to see how smoothly we can get through everything. So, stay alert, and do your best!"

Determined nods bobbed all around him as the cast took up the challenge. There was a scramble as everyone rushed to their places. Dumbledore pointed at Harry and McGonagall and cried, "Action!"

The first scene flowed well, and Neville made sure he and Ron were with the office set as Dumbledore shifted it onstage. As they sang their parts, Pansy and Draco took their positions in the wing, preparing for their entrance. Harry and Hermione stood further back, awaiting their cue, and McGonagall was in a back corner, revising her blocking with Ginny.

Snape absorbed all that in an instant, having Apparated to a corner by the fly system. He gazed at Hermione and she tilted her head, distracted, finally turning to see him. Harry felt her movement and turned as well, seeing Snape watching them. He frowned, suspicion welling up as Snape stepped closer to them.

Pansy and Draco marched onstage, and Snape stopped beside Hermione, glancing down at her before eyeing Harry soberly. His voice barely audible, Snape said, "Mr. Potter, do remember your blocking later. If you manage to perform the same as last time, there should be no danger from the fireballs. I shall be quite precise in my aim, so as long as you are just as diligent in your positioning, everything should go smoothly." He curbed the sneer that wanted to surface and managed to incline his head politely instead.

Harry's eyes goggled, but he nodded weakly. In a faint rasp, he said, "Certainly, Professor."

Both Harry and Hermione were staring at Snape in surprise...and no little delight, on Hermione's part...so neither of them heard their cue. Suddenly, from the house they heard a bellow.

"Where are my Christine and Raoul?"

Gasping, Harry and Hermione exchanged one swift look of "Oops!" before dashing onstage. Dumbledore had stopped the music, and he was gazing sternly at them over his spectacles, arms crossed, fingers drumming in frustration on his arm.

Flushing guiltily, they both stammered apologies. But, when Dumbledore inhaled in preparation for scolding them, Snape stepped out from the wing, offering a conciliatory bow and saying, "I do apologize, Headmaster. Mr. Potter and I were discussing the blocking for a later scene. I distracted them from their current parts. It won't happen again."

Harry snapped a stunned gaze to Snape so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. Hermione, too, turned to blink at Snape in astonishment. Dumbledore scowled at Snape for a moment, silent, before sighing and grumbling, "Indeed, I hope not. Very well, let's back up. Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to give them their cue again, once the music is at the correct point..." Draco nodded as Dumbledore adjusted the music box.

Harry and Hermione sheepishly slunk back into the wings, casting owl-eyed looks at Snape, who nodded graciously at them again and murmured, "I beg your pardon," before Disapparating.

Neither of them knew he had reappeared above them on the catwalk. He heard Harry's disconcerted, "I don't know if I can take the stress of Snape being 'nice'!" Smirking and stifling a chuckle, Snape watched as they appeared on time and the scene progressed.

After that instance of Harry and Hermione missing their cue, everyone doubled their efforts, not wanting to be the target of Dumbledore's ire. If some of the set changes were a bit rocky, no one wanted to be the one to say anything about it, since it was all being handled by Dumbledore; no doubt it was complicated and required quite a bit of effort and concentration.

Snape stayed perched on the catwalk, watching everyone, unobserved, until it was time for him to take his position onstage for the graveyard scene. Apparating behind the crypt, he closed his eyes and suppressed a shudder at the eerie beauty of Hermione's song.

Climbing up, he offered his gentlest, most coaxing tone as he began his part, luring Hermione closer. Harry appeared, and a part of Snape's mind that was listening as an outside observer admitted that the three of them were doing well. Even Harry's performance had strengthened, and the scene swelled with tension and pathos.

Feeling much more secure with his handling of the pike, Snape wielded it almost carelessly, a pose that belied his actual control. That same observer part of his being noticed that if Harry still harboured any doubts about Snape's intentions, he buried them behind his performance as Raoul. Despite himself, Snape was impressed with the boy.

Meticulously, Snape aimed the fireballs to land in front of Harry as he approached the crypt. Hermione agonized as Christine, torn between Raoul and the Phantom's lure. Snape taunted and bullied, making the Phantom frighteningly compelling. The same sort of righteous wrath that Harry had used to his and the wizarding world's benefit in destroying Voldemort contorted his youthful features into a visage more befitting a man, and one who had witnessed a lifetime of atrocities. As the scene culminated, Snape reluctantly recognized again the strength and maturity that lay hidden beneath Harry's adolescent self.

When the flames that bathed the stage and the flash of light that Snape cast both died away, Snape heard the rest of the cast bursting into spontaneous applause. He Apparated back to the stage, joining Hermione and Harry where they entered from the wing again. Hermione was beaming, flushing prettily, and Harry was struggling between looking proud and embarrassed. Snape suppressed a smile and crossed to the pair.

Inclining his head, he murmured, "That worked well, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger." He cast a wry look about at the cast clapping as they swarmed the stage, before cocking a sardonic eyebrow at them. "Obviously."

Harry's eyes widened again in astonishment. Here was Snape, being polite and approving! Would wonders never cease? He stared at the man, dumbfounded, until he was distracted by Ginny throwing her arms around his neck and crowing in delight.

Snape watched Harry's befuddlement, smirking to himself, amused. Catching Hermione's eye, he twitched one corner of his lips and bowed slightly as he edged away. She gazed after him with a mixture of pride and suspicion.

Dumbledore spoke over the hubbub of the crowd. "Excellent, everyone! Now, let's all get back to work and start again. Come now, it's no good celebrating unless we can be sure to be able to duplicate such a stellar performance every time. Places!"

Scrambling back to their spots, everyone couldn't help smiling with the excitement of feeling that they were sure to win the competition. They ran through the scenes again, without stopping, as everyone was extremely conscious of their cues. Snape felt even more comfortable brandishing the pike, and when they were done, he almost strolled down to join the rest of the cast in the house for notes. Had he been the type, he might have whistled. But, needless to say, he was not the type at all.

Dumbledore surveyed his cast with visible pride. "Oh, but I'm so pleased with the progress everyone has made. By the time we're done, I'm sure our company could give anyone a run for their money!" He paused as a ripple of appreciative laughter swept through the group. "At any rate, this Friday, we'll pick up from where we left off, and we'll stop at the end of the Don Juan performance scene, right before the Phantom appears as Don Juan for 'Point of No Return.' That will come later. Now, they'll be short scenes, but the first one is not included on your music boxes, so you may not be familiar with it. I know several of you are facing exams next week, so I thought I'd go easy on you." A rumble of groans met his teasing words. Chuckling, he continued, "Very well then, off with you! Good night."

Everyone began shuffling up the aisle, and McGonagall rounded furiously on Dumbledore for springing the news of upcoming tests on them before she had. Her brogue became more pronounced as she berated Dumbledore, "Albus Dumbledore! How dare you spill the beans like that? What is the good of a surprise test if you spoil the surprise? Really, Albus..."

Snape snorted as he passed them, noting the unrepentant twinkle in the old man's eyes. He passed several Gryffindors in the corridor, just outside the doors, and coolly passed his gaze over them, intoning, "Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter, Mr. Creevey, Miss Granger, good night." He held Hermione's gaze as he pointedly said good night, reminding her of getting to bed at a reasonable time. Nodding in response to the varied retorts, he swept past them and Disapparated.

Several gusty sighs followed his disappearance.

Ron shuddered as they trooped down the corridor. "I reckon I'll never get used to Snape being polite."

Neville nodded, noting Colin's pale, rather shell-shocked face. "Well, I guess people can change. I'm just glad I can manage to be in his presence now without losing it."

Ginny beamed and clapped a hand on his shoulder encouragingly. "I think it's brilliant. And you've bloody well improved, Neville. I'm duly impressed." She mussed his hair, shrieking and laughing as she ducked away from his attempt to catch her.

Harry was frowning thoughtfully, and Hermione poked his arm. "You still with us, Harry?" They dropped back a pace or two behind the others as they climbed stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.

Harry shook his head, blinking. "I'm with the others. I can't believe that Snape has changed so much. It's unnerving, that's what."

Hermione smiled. "And you haven't? Everyone changes, Harry. It's called growing."

Harry grimaced at her. "Snape's been a grown up for ages!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione said, "Not ageing, Harry, growing! People can grow no matter what their age is." They reached the corridor leading to the portrait hole, and both of them were distracted by the echoing shouts, shrieks, and laughter that were coming from Neville, Ginny, and Ron as they chased each other. Smiling at their antics, Harry and Hermione rushed forward, past a bemused Colin, joining in the melee.

Gasping the password, they all tumbled through the portrait hole, sprawling on the carpet as they tripped each other, grabbing arms and collars, tickling and tousling hair. Neville was trying to catch Ginny to pay her back for messing up his hair, but Ginny was almost as quick off a broom as she was on one, and she kept eluding him.

She ducked behind a sofa, and Ron joined her. As she turned to him, grinning, he grabbed her, holding her arms behind her back and standing, shouting, "I've got her, Neville!"

Ginny voiced an inarticulate shriek of fury at his treachery, and she struggled, hissing, "Ronald Weasley! How could you turn on your own sister?"

Neville sprinted over, grinning in anticipation of teasing Ginny, but as soon as he got to them, Ron dropped her arms and launched himself at Neville, pinning him and bellowing to her, "I'm hurt that you thought I'd really do that, sister dear! Blood is thicker than pumpkin juice!" He beamed at his stunned sibling and chuckled at the squirming Neville. "Sorry, mate, but you understand, eh?"

Ginny darted over to tickle Neville where he was pinned, and all three of them started tussling, rolling around and howling with laughter. Harry and Hermione were watching from where they had fallen in a heap on the carpet, laughing. Harry yelled, "Ron! That was positively Slytherin of you!"

At that, Ron paused, pulling up and staring at Harry with a wounded look. "Harry! Ouch!" Dramatically putting his hand over his heart, he fell over, feigning unconsciousness. At that moment, all four of them, Ginny, Neville, Harry, and Hermione, exchanged one calculating look before descending on Ron's prone form in a group.

Attacked from four angles, Ron curled into a foetal position, trying to protect himself. Laughing, breathless, they finally fell away, panting and coughing, sagging onto the floor.

Colin stood in the doorway to the boys' dormitory stairs and muttered, "Seventh years, prefects, Head Girl, stars of the school play..." Then, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he spun and disappeared.

The others exchanged unrepentant grins, shrugging. Turning to eye Hermione meaningfully, Harry said, "Gee, so much for growing, huh?"

Hermione laughed, picking herself up off the carpet and dusting off her robes. "Well, everyone deserves a moment or two of regression." She extended her hand to Ginny, pulling the other girl up. "I don't know about you lot, but that just finished me off. See you in the morning!" She waved at the three boys still sprawled on the floor and smiled at Ginny as she departed for her room.

Still smiling, Hermione prepared for the next day, dressing for bed. After her nightly ablutions, she crawled into bed with a book, stroking Crookshanks where he lay beside her. Drained from the evening, it wasn't long before she doused the light and went to sleep, her last conscious thought, See, Severus? I'm going to sleep just like you said.

Hours later, far below in the dungeons, Snape glanced at the time, nodding to himself. Standing, he Apparated to Hermione's room again.

This time, Crookshanks barely acknowledged his presence, and Snape gratefully scrubbed the cat's thick fur. Settling into Hermione's armchair, Snape gazed at her, his heart warming with the pleasure of seeing her so peaceful. Once again, he dozed off, starting awake as his head fell forward. Realizing that he had been there for a while, he regretfully stood, rolling his neck and grimacing against the crick in it. Daring to step beside her bed, he gently smoothed a curl away from her face before Disapparating.

******** **********

Hermione felt so rested the next day that she wondered if she had been neglecting her sleep too much. She felt like smiling at everyone all day, and caught herself beaming at Snape more than once in class. Blushing every time, she dutifully tore her attention away from his warning gaze and focused on her work. It wasn't until dinner that night, when she heard other students commenting on how much more mellow Snape seemed, that she realized how much he had changed, and not just in his interactions with her.

Good. Then hopefully people will understand us when the time comes.

Friday, Snape merely beckoned to Hermione as he made his way down the aisle to collect her before rehearsal. Bouncing up from her seat before he had even arrived near her, she bade her friends goodbye and strode down the aisle, pausing at the door to look over her shoulder at Snape as he caught up with her.

In the corridor, he gripped her arm and Apparated them to his quarters again. As soon as they arrived, Hermione turned and plastered herself against him, stretching up and pulling his head down so she could kiss him soundly. Arms wrapping around her instinctively, he returned the kiss with equal fervour.

Finally breaking away, Snape murmured, "I don't know that I should have even collected you tonight, as I'm not onstage at all for these scenes. But I couldn't resist any excuse to get you alone."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you did. I miss you." She quirked a mischievous brow at him. "Can't imagine why..."

Taking the bait, Snape growled at her, muttering, "I'll show you why," as he lifted her into his lap and sat in his armchair. He pinned her with a fierce kiss, snaking his hand under her robes, sliding along her leg and cupping her arse. She squealed in response, squirming on his lap and threading her hands through his hair.

He broke the kiss to nip along her throat, squeezing her arse. A low moan urged him on. He was suckling her earlobe when she breathed, "Oh, yes, I remember now..." Chuckling darkly, he slipped his hand around her thigh, lightly tracing his fingertips along the warm, now moistening, centre panel of her knickers. Hermione bucked against his touch, gasping.

His breath was hot against her ear as he said, "I'm so pleased I've managed to refresh your memory."

Hermione opened glassy eyes to look at him. Her voice husky with quickly awakened need, she murmured, "Gods, Severus, refresh my memory some more."

Lips widening in a feral grin, Snape descended on her with another consuming kiss, while his fingers traced patterns against her knickers. Her legs fell open of their own accord, silently encouraging him. He could feel her moving against his erection, and a wild surge of desire claimed him.

One long finger snuck beneath the elastic against her hip. She moaned. Trailing it down inside the leg hole of her knickers, he came up against her warm curls. Her breathing became more erratic as he pulled the elastic away from her skin, her juices making the fabric slick.

That same fingertip traced along her pussy lips, slipping between them and encountering her hard nub. She cried out and shuddered in his embrace. Knowing how to use his voice for greater effect, he murmured, "Ah, my love, you remember that."

A whimpered affirmative made him smirk. Moving further, he slid down to her entrance, teasing her by circling her wet, heated flesh. Daringly, he dipped his fingertip into her, and she tensed, a strangled gargle emerging from her throat. He could feel the juices pooling against his finger. Nuzzling her ear, he said, "Mmm, do you remember this, too?"

Her hips rocked in response, driving him deeper within her. Groaning, he once again slid one finger into her, fitting his thumb against her clit, rubbing and circling it. She keened, writhing in his lap, grinding on his hand. Mere moments later, when he curled his finger forward, Hermione gave a sort of surprised shriek, convulsing around him in release.

Snape felt his cock pulsing, painfully hard, in response to her abrupt orgasm. Enjoying the ability to play her like an instrument, he fluttered his finger within her, delighting in the moans and shudders it incited. Breathing deeply, Hermione floated down from the height of her passion, amazed at how good his touch could make her feel.

Snape gently withdrew, enjoying how her body clenched, as if trying to keep him inside. Trembling with aftershocks, Hermione stared dazedly at him as he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them in. Watching him laving her juices from his fingers made her groan, and his eyes flashed wickedly at her.

With a smug smirk, Snape glanced at the time and drawled, "My my, that didn't take long." One eyebrow quirked as a wicked grin spread his lips...lips that were glistening where his fingertips had trailed over them.

Hermione sucked in a quick breath and struggled to rise from his lap. Snape looked at her curiously. Glaring at him, she pointedly looked at the bulge in his lap before hiking up her robes and straddling him in the chair. Deliberately rocking against his erection, she smirked at his sharp hiss.

His smug expression changed to one of warning, but she ground against him, leaning forward to press her breasts to his chest as she murmured in his ear, "Not so fast. I think it's only fair that you get your turn, too."

Snape's eyes closed and a low groan rumbled forth. When she suckled the tender flesh in the hollow behind his ear and rocked on him, he found he hadn't breath left to reprimand her. As if of their own volition, his hands gripped her arse and guided her motions, controlling her speed.

She trailed kisses along his jaw, until she swooped in with a heated kiss, her tongue demanding entrance. Almost devouring each other, Hermione voicing little encouraging moans, Snape's breath came faster, and he felt the tingle beginning in his balls.

Hermione's hands gripped his hair behind his neck, and they rocked faster, Snape thrusting against her from below. When Hermione felt his fingers grip spastically, she voiced a keening cry of triumph, feeling him shuddering beneath her. His fierce roar was partially muffled by her kiss, and his body went nearly rigid in release. As his muscles relaxed, Hermione could feel the hot wetness that was spreading against her knickers through his trousers.

She broke the kiss, laying her head along his throat, listening to his heavy breathing. As his heart rate calmed, she sat up, beaming at him in satisfaction.

Snape gazed at her, incredulous. Shaking his head, he blinked rapidly, trying to form words. She beat him to it.

"That was brilliant!"

His eyes flew wider, and a bark of laughter ambushed him. Still chuckling wryly at her flushed yet beaming countenance, he carefully released her, lightly tapping her legs, indicating she should get up.

His voice low, he said, "Time to move. We've got to get cleaned up and ready for rehearsal still."

Hermione gingerly rose, flushing more at the sight of the wet stain in Snape's lap. She could feel her knickers all slippery against her, and she looked away, nervously patting her hair and squirming. Daring to glance at Snape again, she saw the pink stain on his cheeks and knew he was likely embarrassed. As discreetly as he could, he rose and strode to the bathroom, avoiding her eyes.

Moments later, he emerged, dressed as normal, but his posture bespoke his anxiety at his indiscretion. He quickly crossed to the chair, depositing the styling products on the table. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, "Whenever you're ready."

Hermione nodded, stepping quickly toward the bathroom. "I'll be just a moment." She hurried to clean up as much as she could, and returned to see Snape dragging the brush through his hair. Darting over to him, she snagged the brush from his hand and snapped in reproach, "I'll do it."

Snape held his hands up in surrender. "I was simply trying to help. We're running late, even with Apparating."

Hermione hurried through her task, noting how true his statement was. An awkward tension still hung in the air between them. Hesitant, Hermione said, "Severus?"

"Mm?"

"I meant it when I said that was brilliant. I really enjoyed... oh, bugger, I can't think of any prettier way to put it... getting you off too." Snape snorted, but she continued. "Well! It's true! I felt so guilty when you had taken care of me before, and I hadn't been able to do the same for you. It's not fair!"

She gathered his hair into the elastic as he said, "Would it make you feel any better if I told you it was taken care of?"

She blinked, surprised at the jolt of arousal that shot through her at the thought. Faintly, she said, "Really?" Exhaling heavily at the erotic image that flashed in her brain, she murmured, "Actually, it does. Although I would have much preferred to have been there and participated!"

Snape snorted again, and she grinned. The tension in his shoulders had drained away, and when he stood, he was smiling faintly as he faced her.

Lips quirking, he murmured, "You're not the only one, dearest." Hermione laughed, and Snape grinned, albeit a bit sheepishly. Pointing his wand at the mask, he muttered, "Accio mask." Catching it deftly, he gripped her arm and Apparated them to the Great Hall, materializing in the back of the house.

Dumbledore was busy setting the stage for the scene, and the cast was milling about at the foot of the stage. Most of the boys were clustered in a group, whispering about the scene, while most of the girls stood in a separate group, watching the boys with interest and chatting idly. Dumbledore called the boys forward, directing Seamus to descend into the orchestra pit as the marksman, and the others gathered on the stage apron.

Shuffling back down into the house, Dumbledore called, "Everyone else not in this scene, please be seated and stay quiet." There was a swift rustle as everyone took seats and shushed each other.

Snape sidled up to Dumbledore, catching his eye and nodding pointedly at the statue that hung at the centre of the top of the proscenium, his expression querying whether that would be a good place to start. Dumbledore nodded vigorously, and Snape Disapparated.

"All right, Mr. Boot, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, you'll all be heading to different doors at Mr. Creevey's direction. Then, wherever you hear the Phantom's voice, you're to head that way, understood?" The boys nodded. "Excellent. Now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, are you ready?" They, too, nodded, and Dumbledore backed away.

But, before he could cry, "Action!" Colin raised his hand and said, "Sir? Am I to provide my own whistle?"

Dumbledore blinked, then smiled. At a snap of his fingers, a shiny tin whistle appeared, floating at eye level with Colin. Colin quickly snatched it, saying, "Thank you, Headmaster."

Almost immediately after that, Seamus popped up from the pit, sheepishly asking, "Headmaster, where might I find the gun I'm supposed to use?"

Squinting, Dumbledore thought for a moment. "Ah, yes, a Muggle weapon. Of course, I remember. Just a moment." He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew a quill, pointing his wand at it and transfiguring it into a rifle. With a little flourish, he handed it to Seamus. "There. That should do. Although, I do hope you'll manage to keep this in one piece. Do try to not blow it up." He smiled at Seamus's chagrined expression and the sniggers that rippled through the rest of the cast.

"I'll do my best, sir. But, will this fire?"

"It will sound as if it has fired, and a puff of smoke will emerge when you pull the trigger, but there are no actual rounds in it of any kind. It's completely safe."

Seamus tilted his head and flashed a lopsided grin. "If you say so, sir!"

There was more laughter, and Dumbledore stepped back into the house as Seamus ducked out of sight again. "Now then, action!"

At Dumbledore's mark, Terry, Dean, and Justin stood in a line near Colin, and Harry, Ron, and Neville stood off to one side. Colin began his lines, and Seamus climbed back up the ladder Dumbledore had placed in the orchestra pit so that his head was visible as he listened to the proceedings. When Colin finished his part, and Neville spoke, Colin continued gesturing to the other boys, pointing to the doors they should attend. At the end of Harry's line, Colin shooed the other boys off the stage, blowing a short report on his whistle, and they fanned out to their positions.

Harry stepped forward to address Seamus in the pit, and at the end of their exchange, Neville approached Harry, pulling him away from the pit so he and Ron could speak privately with him. Colin stepped forward, announcing his readiness, and blew his whistle. From their positions in the theatre, the other boys slammed doors shut and yelled, "Secure!"

As soon as they were done, Snape cast Sonorus and quietly intoned, "I'm here: The Phantom of the Opera."

Down in the house, all the boys began searching for him, their heads whipping about wildly, and Dean, Justin, and Terry all came pelting from their positions toward the stage.

Before they could reach it, Snape Apparated to the very back of the house and repeated the mocking line. Confused, the boys stopped, glancing about before changing direction and running back into the house.

Snape popped from there to the catwalk, then to a dark corner of one of the wings, into the space under the trap door, and finally into Box Five, softly repeating his taunt as the others raced about, trying to find him.

As soon as Snape's voice came from Box Five, Seamus aimed the rifle and fired, and Harry rounded on him furiously. Seamus started to protest, but Snape Apparated to the catwalk above the chandelier and raised his voice to recite, "No 'buts'! For once Monsieur le Vicomte is right... Seal my fate tonight...I hate to have to cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin... Let the audience in... Let my opera begin!"

Dumbledore paused the rehearsal for everyone to mark their notes in their scripts, and he contemplated how best to effect the set changes. Shooing everyone offstage for a few minutes, he tried several different sequences, finally deciding on one he thought worked best. Gesturing for everyone to go back to where they had been when the scene had ended, he directed their exits and entrances as he shifted the set.

The scene was set for Don Juan, and most of the cast was onstage, figuring out what stage business they'd all be doing while they did their chorus parts. When the discussion was over, Dumbledore directed everyone to begin their lines, nodding approvingly as everyone managed to fall into a rhythm and recite in unison, even without the music.

Dean directed the others in their assumed tasks of making "Don Juan's room" ready. When the came to the end of the chorus, everyone filed into the wings, except for Dean and Ginny. As Draco emerged from behind the arch onstage, Ginny approached him, and Draco mimed tossing something to her. Pretending to catch it, Ginny whirled and exited, leaving Dean and Draco by themselves.

Draco evinced a predatory anticipation as he recited his lines, and Dean responded with supposed amusement. Hermione waited in the wing to enter, scowling in reproof of Draco's nastiness. Draco disappeared within the curtains of the bed in the alcove upstage, and Dean affected an air of eager waiting as Hermione recited her lines from in the wing.

When Hermione reached the end of her lines, Dumbledore called for a halt. "We're stopping here for now. Next time, we'll pick up from this point, as Professor Snape will be taking over after this." He smiled as cast members emerged onstage, scribbling their notes in their scripts again. "All right, let's go through again, and I'll try to change the sets without stopping everything this time. Ready?" Murmurs of assent rippled through the group, and everyone took their places for the start of the scenes, including Snape, who Apparated from Box Five back to the statue on the proscenium, ready to flit about again.

The scene progressed slowly, particularly during the shift, but it didn't stop entirely again. When they reached the end a second time, Dumbledore asked everyone to clear the stage again so he could work out a few kinks in his set change.

Students stood in small clumps, quietly going over their lines or blocking with each other, until Dumbledore was ready. He announced, "I think I've figured it out this time." Chuckling, he continued, "Let's go ahead and add the music box for the second part this time." Knowing he would be quite busy with the scene shift, Dumbledore raised his voice and called, "Severus!"

Snape appeared on the apron, politely inquiring, "You called?"

Dumbledore grinned at Snape's abrupt arrival and said, "I did. Since you're not involved in the scene, would you pop down here and man the music box while I do the set change?"

Snape inclined his upper body in a gracious bow, smoothly replying, "Certainly, Headmaster." At Dumbledore's "Excellent," Snape continued, "Anything else I can do to be of service?" Dumbledore shook his head no, and Snape nodded, murmuring, "Very well then," before Disapparating again.

Dumbledore gestured for everyone to get ready, and they began their final run-through of night. Snape finished his line from his vantage point in Box Five, then immediately Apparated to the house, standing near Dumbledore. He watched the dance of set pieces onstage, marvelling at the headmaster's skill, and flipped open the music box for the start of the second half.

While the students sang along with the music well enough, some were rather stilted and wooden in their stage business. But Snape felt sure that they would improve, especially once they had practiced more, and once they had their costumes and props at their disposal. They reached the stopping point again, and Snape shut the music box with a snap.

Cast members emerged from the wings, awaiting Dumbledore's announcements before being dismissed. He beamed up at them.

"I know tonight was a bit more difficult than others, what with the lack of accompaniment and the complex set change, and I appreciate your focus. Next Friday we'll be picking up at Don Juan's appearance to do 'Point of No Return' and the retreat underground." He fished some notes from his pocket, peering at them through his spectacles, and said, "While the chorus does sing in the background as the pursuing mob, not everyone is required to be here for next week's rehearsal. Those of you who are needed are: Professor Snape, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter, Mr. Boot, Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Creevey, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, and Mr. Thomas. Keep practicing, everyone, and enjoy the rest of your weekend. Good night!"

There was an instant hubbub, as people made their way offstage and up the aisle to leave the theatre. Hermione glanced around, wondering where Snape was hiding. As she strode up the aisle, she saw him appear at the back of the house, nodding to the Slytherins as they greeted him on their way out the door. Snape glanced down the aisle at her before turning and following the Slytherins out.

Hermione felt a little let down that she hadn't had a chance to spend any time with Snape at rehearsal, especially after their pulse-quickening interlude beforehand. She was quiet on the trek up to Gryffindor Tower.

Once in the common room, she sank into a squashy chair, only half-listening to the others talking about rehearsal. Speculation began about how Dumbledore was going to handle the pandemonium after Piangi's death, including the retreat to the Labyrinth Underground and the mob's pursuit.

Ron turned to Hermione to include her in the conversation and noticed her wistful, far-off expression. "You okay?"

Hermione started, blinking. "What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Why?"

Frowning, he said, "You looked like something was bothering you." His puzzled expression changed to one of comprehension. "I know what's wrong! You're worried about next week's rehearsal," he said sagely.

Perplexed, Hermione retorted, "Worried? About what?"

Grimacing sympathetically, he patted her knee and said, "Having to do 'Point of No Return' with Snape."

White-hot anger flared up at his casual statement, and she had to stop herself before she lashed out at him. Eyes narrowing dangerously in spite of herself, she hissed, "Shut up, Ron."

Jerking back, affronted by her attack, he said, "What? What are you riled at me for?"

Hermione stood stiffly, glaring down her nose at him, very much reminiscent of Snape at his haughtiest, and growled, "Don't talk about things you don't understand." Biting back another venomous comment at the surprised widening of his eyes, she continued, "I'm going to bed."

As she stalked off, Colin muttered, "What's wrong with Hermione?"

Ron shook his head and said, "She must really be worked up about having to do next week's scene with Snape, if she's taking it out on me this bad." He sighed. "Poor thing. Oh well, I can't be too offended. I mean, it's got to be pretty stressful acting opposite him all the time," he continued magnanimously.

Colin nodded, staring thoughtfully at the door through which she had exited. "Yeah, probably so. I'll bet she could use something nice to distract her until this whole production is over."

Ron, blissfully ignorant of the danger of encouraging Colin, nodded vehemently. "No doubt. I feel kinda' guilty, not having spent as much time with her lately, since I'm with Susan so much. But," and he paused to flash a wolfish grin, "some things are higher on my list of priorities right now." He waggled his eyebrows and leered, laughing at Colin's rueful expression.

Colin shook his head, smiling wanly. "I'm sure... Glad you two are having fun. Anyway, it's late. I'm off to bed, too." With that, he stood, waving to everyone as he headed for the stairs to his dormitory, looking as if he was thinking very hard.

Hermione had decided to draw a bath, to give herself time to calm down after Ron's insulting remark. She had been soaking for a while, casting her mind back to more pleasant things to change her mood, and she had remembered how satisfying her stolen moments with Snape had been that night. The same sensations swept through her again, and she slid her hand beneath the water to circle her pulsing clit.

Curling forward, trying to slip a finger inside herself like Snape had, she sighed in frustration that her reach and angle weren't the same, and she couldn't incite the same surges of heat that he could. Settling for her standard mode of titillation, she circled her clit, rubbing faster and cupping her breast in time with the undulation of her hips.

Her heavy breathing echoed off the tiles, and the bathwater sloshed gently around her, offering a counterpoint to her faint moans. Reaching her peak, she sank bonelessly into the bubbles again, a deep languor almost making her nod off. Relaxed, and no longer angry, she slowly dragged herself from the tub, draining it and drying herself with a soft towel. As the fabric slid over her still-swollen pussy lips, she gasped, enjoying the sparks of heat that shot through her.

Wrapping herself in the towel, she crossed to her dresser, opening a drawer to fetch a nightdress. As she caught a glimpse of her photo of Snape, she paused. Chewing her lip for a moment, she stared at the picture. Then, she glanced at the nightdress in her hand. Looking back and forth between them, she apparently came to a decision, resolutely placing the nightdress back in the drawer.

Cheeks flushed, she strode to her bed, flinging back the covers and sitting on the edge. Glancing furtively around, she doused the lights, then, in a flurry of action, whipped off the towel, tossed it toward the bathroom, dove under the covers, and pulled them up to her neck. She lay there, heart racing and body trembling, nude between her sheets.

Nervously grabbing her wand from her nightstand, she cast a double-strength locking spell on the door, changing her password as well. Then, awake again with the adrenaline that was now coursing through her veins, she looked around the dark room, wondering what to do to get sleepy. The moonlight gave her enough light to see the stack of books and periodicals by her bed. With a sharp intake of breath, she saw the items from Ginny's stash and felt a throb deep in her core.

A delicious, erotic tingle flashed over her as she pulled a book from the stack. Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she opened it to find a photo-illustrated erotic story. Each photo was accompanied by the snippet of the story that it performed. There was little attempt at a plot, but at the moment, Hermione didn't care.

The wizard in the photographs was tall and lean, and his hair, while brown, was long. The witch was petite and blonde, with curves that were quite likely spell-enhanced. As the story progressed, the witch and wizard demonstrated what was described.

Hermione whispered, "Wingardium Leviosa," letting the book float above her, leaving her hands free. With one hand, she turned the pages, and the other crept down her naked skin to find her curls once again slick.

The couple kissed languidly, hands travelling over each other and groping. Eventually, they divested each other of their clothing, covering each newly exposed inch of flesh with licks and kisses. When they were completely nude, the witch began stroking his hardening cock, and the wizard's head fell back. Hermione's pace quickened.

The wizard kissed the witch again, cupping her mound and palming her breast. Her mouth fell open in a silent moan. He drew her down to a bed, where he nestled between her thighs and dragged his tongue along her glistening pussy lips. She shuddered, and her hands tangled in his hair to guide him.

As he licked and sucked, she came, bucking in ecstasy, making Hermione moan involuntarily. When the witch had recovered, she sat up and pushed the wizard back on the bed, wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking. When she bent her head to take it in her mouth, Hermione's eyes went wide, and she gasped shallowly, shivering.

Working her way down his length, the witch licked and suckled, grazing her teeth along the hard flesh, making the man jump and strain under her. Finally, it seemed that the man could take no more, and he sat up, launching himself at the witch, snogging her vehemently. They grappled together, flailing around, almost in a frenzy, until the man spun the witch to face away from him, wrapping his arm around her waist and pushing between her shoulder blades to bend her forward. She dropped to her hands and knees, arching her back.

Hermione's fingers were slipping around in her juices, unable to get purchase, and she panted as she watched the wizard guide his cock into the witch from behind. Their identical expressions of bliss made Hermione groan. Rubbing feverishly, she watched the wizard thrusting into the witch, his muscles rippling under a sheen of sweat. The witch's breasts swayed with each slam.

They moved faster and harder, their coupling raw and animalistic. Eventually, as they both went rigid in orgasm, Hermione snatched the book, flung it away, and rolled out from under her covers, rising to her knees and elbow, head hanging low as she screwed her eyes shut, envisioning her and Snape as that couple, fucking so passionately.

Her body was flushed with heat, and she stroked and rubbed frantically, rocking forward and back on her knees, completely lost in her fantasy. Almost choking on her cry of ecstasy, she convulsed in the most intense orgasm she had ever had by herself, falling forward onto her stomach, exhausted, her hand still trapped under her.

Panting, shuddering, awash in sensation, she was sucked into oblivion by the force of her release. She lay there, spent, naked atop her covers, her hair tangled and covering her face, her fingers still slotted between her pussy lips, fast asleep.

Crookshanks opened one eye at the abrupt cessation of all noise and movement, but closed it again when he was reassured by her steady breathing that she was still alive.

Snape lay in bed, fingers laced behind his head as he stared into the darkness. Most days he could fight off the urge to sneak to Hermione's room to see her. But on the days when they had rehearsal, and they invariably had that precious half hour of time together, that urge strengthened beyond his ability to control it. He knew that he would succumb. But, he also knew that he had to wait until it was late enough that she would be asleep, so he didn't get caught.

He glanced at the time again. He had literally been looking at it every few minutes for almost two hours. Finally, he decided that it was enough. Surging to his feet, he donned his lounge wear and grabbed his wand. Chest tight with anticipation and trepidation, he Disapparated once again.