53- Aftermath

Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: Thank you to all you wonderful folk who read and review and email me and leave me LJ messages. :) You guys make my day. I know it's been a while waiting for this update, but I had some struggles with it, and as always, RL took up time as well. I hope it manages to meet expectations... *crosses fingers* Muchos smooches to my lovely beta, Ladyofthemasque! Without further ado...

Chapter 53- Aftermath

Several times in the night, Snape woke with a start at Hermione moving or making noises in her sleep. Every time, he held her tight, soothingly caressing her until she quieted again. Finally, after several hours, she woke with a gasp, stiffening in his grasp. Her hand gripped his arm painfully and he snapped to attention, murmuring in her ear.

"Shh... It's all right, love. You're safe. Be calm. I'm here. Shh..."

Hermione struggled to turn in his arms, and he backed away, peering anxiously into her moonlit face. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she rasped, "Severus? What happened? Was it all a nightmare?" Then, she glanced quickly about the room, her brow furrowing as she realized that all the flowers were gone. Lips trembling, she locked eyes with Snape again and said, "Colin was really here, wasn't he? And I was so hateful..." Her face crumpled again and she rolled away from Snape, shuddering.

Again, Snape enveloped her in his arms, his voice low and urgent as he said, "It did happen. I gave you a Calming Draught a few hours ago. Hermione, love, you mustn't punish yourself like this. You did what had to be done."

Her voice was thick with tears as she said, "I can't believe I was so awful to him. I must have hurt him horribly. 'What had to be done'? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" She tossed her head mutinously, her body tense.

Snape pressed his forehead against her shoulder and ground his teeth in shared misery. "Believe me, dear heart, if there's anyone who can truly appreciate what you feel right now, I am he. Welcome to my life..." Bitterness oozed through the sardonic tone of his voice.

Hermione was distracted from her wallowing by trying to puzzle out his comment. Twisting again, she frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Snape gazed at her, his expression closed and grim. "I know how painful it is to hurt others in the name of 'doing what had to be done.' Tally up how many times I've hurt you alone." He paused to let that sink in, then continued, "Just be glad that you're not likely to have to continue in this vein. This whole incident will probably be the only time you'll have to be so cold. Be grateful."

Her eyes widened as she understood. Staring at him, incredulous, she rebelled at the thought of being grateful for any of the horror she had just experienced. Her mouth opened, but she had no words to retort. Thoughts whirling in a maelstrom in her mind, she blinked, turning away from him again.

They lay there, silent, both absorbed in their own sobering reflections, until the first lightening of dawn approached. Eventually, Hermione squirmed from the bed, hastily donning her robe as she headed for the bathroom. Snape watched her go, uneasy about her extended silence.

Shutting the door firmly behind her, Hermione used the toilet, scrubbing her face with her hands and sighing deeply. Then, she washed her hands and gazed at her haggard reflection. Splashing cold water on her face, she gripped the sink basin and stared into her own eyes. You need to slow down, girl. Look at what it almost cost you, blithely forging on so recklessly. Think about what it made you do. Do you really want to be that person? Maybe it's time to step back and really examine what you're doing. Time to grow up. You may be an adult, but you know that doesn't mean you're necessarily a grown-up.

Lips thin in determination, she dried her face and hands and opened the bathroom door. Snape was propped against her headboard, covers pulled up to his waist, watching her with a faint frown. Hermione ducked her head nervously and began collecting her clothing, folding it and smoothing it, neatly putting it away. When she had found all of her clothes, she then picked up Snape's, swallowing hard as she approached him and laid them on the edge of the bed.

Snape's eyes were narrowed, staring at her warily. His heart beat faster as she quietly emerged from the bathroom and started tidying their clothes. A frisson of unease washed over him again, but he was loath to speak, for fear of hearing that which he least wanted to hear.

Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and nodded toward his clothes, her arms folded tightly against her ribs. "That's everything, isn't it?"

Snape reluctantly reached for the pile, seeing his pants, his trousers, and his shirt. His robes were beside them, and she had toed his boots...with his socks still in them...out from under the bed. Clutching the fabric of his shirt in a white-knuckled grip, he murmured, "Hermione. What's going on?" At any other time, he would have been ashamed of the quaver in his voice, but right now there were more important things to worry about.

Hermione looked around awkwardly, unwilling to meet his eyes. Breath sticking in her throat as she tried to speak, she faltered, "I think... it's time for you... to... go back to your quarters. And... I think... maybe we should... slow down a bit..."

Snape's eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. Paling, he stared at her in astonishment. "What do you mean?" Then, he leant forward, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. Panting shallowly, he whispered, "Hermione, please, don't leave me..."

Hermione finally looked up, and the agony in his eyes tore at her heart. After what she had done to Colin, she couldn't bear seeing that look in Snape's eyes, and she broke down, throwing herself at him, climbing on the bed and wrapping her arms around him as she buried her face in his neck and sobbing, "I'm not! I swear! I love you, Severus..."

Relief crashed over him so powerfully that Snape wavered, and his eyes rolled back as colours flashed before them. He embraced her fervently, willing himself not to pass out. Throat tight, he croaked, "Good gods, Hermione, don't ever scare me like that again."

Hermione held him, gathering her courage to insist on what she knew he would object to. Still pressed against him, she murmured, "I don't want to leave you. I love you. But, I do think we need to slow down. I can't bear anything like this happening again. I never really realized just how precarious our situation was, and I would hate to ruin our lives and reputations by being reckless again. It's only a few months, love. We just have to be patient."

Snape was thunderstruck. Well! This is certainly a turn of the tables... Pulling back from her, he peered incredulously into her eyes and said, "I seem to remember saying the same thing months ago, but someone paid me no heed."

Hermione ducked her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know I was too impetuous. Can you blame me? Everything has been so new and wonderful, and I hated having to wait!"

Snape lifted her chin on his fingertip and locked eyes with her. Expression solemn, he murmured, "I know."

They gazed at each other, silent, each railing against the inevitable but knowing it was the best choice.

After several long moments, Hermione glanced at the brightening sky through her window and her brow creased in anxiety. Snape's lips thinned and he heaved a resentful sigh. A stony scowl on his face, he released Hermione, and she backed away, standing and crossing her arms tightly over her ribs again. Snape reached for his wand and stood quickly, making the practiced flicks that clothed him each morning. Hermione's eyes goggled at the flurry of cloth enrobing him.

Dressed, he gazed down at Hermione, expression stoic and cold. She cast a sorrowful look up at him, hesitantly crossing the short distance to where he stood.

"Severus?" He didn't speak, but simply looked at her. She persisted. "Please don't be angry with me. I hate this idea as much as you do." She was interrupted by a scathing snort. Closing her eyes in a pained acknowledgement, she continued, "I am sorry..."

When she opened her eyes again, they were bright with unshed tears, and Snape thawed a trifle. Grinding his teeth, he uttered a gruff, "As am I."

Hermione saw him retreating into his usual sour shell, and she reached out, sliding her hands around his waist and pressing her cheek against his black-robed chest. "This doesn't change anything about how I feel, dearest. I love you more than ever. I love you, and us, too much to keep taking such risks with our lives and prospective future. We'll still have time together, and it's only a few months until school is over..."

Snape grimaced, fighting the urge to whisk her away and worship her until she consented to continuing their clandestine rendezvous. It was like he had finally had a taste of heaven, and was now being denied it. Like he had finally been freed from the tether that kept him from happiness, only to be bound away from that which made life bearable again.

He returned her embrace stiffly, praying he could maintain control and not prostrate himself at her feet, begging her to reconsider. The wild strength of the emotions she stirred in him frightened him with their intensity, and he grappled with himself, straining to come to terms with such new forces.

Hermione felt the resistance in his body, and she mourned the...hopefully temporary...loss of their intimacy. Terrified of alienating him, and terrified of ruining their lives, she had to make the sacrifice now in the hopes of reaping the greater reward later. With one last squeeze, she backed away, peering up at him again, sniffling back the tears that had dampened his robes.

Snape glanced down at her and felt his chest and throat tighten. Swallowing hard, he murmured through set lips, "Very well. I shall see you in class and, of course, before rehearsal next week." He nodded curtly and smoothed his clothes, running a hand through his hair.

Hermione nodded wistfully, watching him with an aching heart. Before he could Disapparate, she spoke up. "Thank you for all the lovely flowers. They were beautiful. I've never had such a wonderful surprise." She offered a tentative smile, and he inclined his head minutely.

Snape's stomach felt like it was trembling, and he kept swallowing at the lump that kept rising in his throat. In his continued attempt to maintain control, he spoke in a business-like manner. "The rest of the Calming Draught is on the nightstand, should you feel the need for another dose." He paused, and Hermione's wan smile wilted at the reference to the horror they had experienced. Snape felt a pang of remorse for obliterating that smile and cleared his throat. His voice was gravelly as he said, "And thank you for the dinner. I shall never forget it." That brought the smile back, and his gut twisted with longing.

"You're quite welcome. I love you, Severus."

Snape sucked in a breath and held it for a beat, clamping down on the near-frantic desire to throw caution and dignity to the wind and beg her to come with him. Then, closing his eyes, he let out a long exhalation, at the end of which he opened his eyes and whispered, "I love you," whirling and Disapparating before she could react.

He was gone.

A wave of weakness swept over Hermione, and she stumbled to collapse on the bed. Curling up in a foetal position, she felt the wracking sobs rising again, and a high-pitched keening sound emerged from her lips. Struggling to sit up again, she gasped for breath, trying to control the convulsions that gripped her. She grabbed the Calming Draught and managed to swallow some between sobs. As the potion took effect, her body relaxed from its painful paroxysm, and she downed another swallow.

If only he had left me some Dreamless Sleep as well... Oh gods, I wish I could just sleep until school was over! Even as she calmed under the effects of the potion, bitterness welled up. Bloody hell... You know you've had a great day when you've hurt two men because they have feelings for you. Burying her face in her pillow, she savagely thought, Happy Valentine's Day... Yeah, right.

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

Snape appeared in his sitting room, his gaze coming to rest on the stack of receipts on his dining table. His stomach gave a lurch, and he hastily retreated into his bedroom, unwilling to be reminded of his carefully prepared gift and its ultimate destruction. In his bedroom, he was assailed by memories of his times with Hermione and he curled forward, arms wrapping around his middle as he grimaced in pain.

Panting shallowly, he felt the constriction in his throat and the burning in his eyes, and he swallowed hard, trying to force the lump back down. He stood there, shaking with the effort of not giving in to the despair and impotent fury that seemed to be eating him alive.

Willing himself to straighten, he staggered to his bathroom, considering following his own advice and taking a potion. But, as he caught sight of his grey face and haunted eyes, he couldn't keep a grip on himself anymore, and the trembling in his guts increased violently.

Dropping to his knees on the hard floor, he surged forward, clutching the porcelain in a white-knuckled grip as the awful trembling rose within him and he was wracked with heaves, retching into the toilet. Coughing and gasping for air, he felt his eyes tearing, wetting his cheeks as they overflowed his lids.

Finally, after several more bouts of exhausting convulsions, he sank back against the wall, shakily wiping his clammy face and streaming nose, gulping in air. Rolling his head back, he closed his eyes, wearily Summoning a glass of water to rinse his mouth.

He hated being sick. He hadn't been sick like this since that night in Godric's Hollow. Get a hold of yourself! This is hardly comparable: no one has been murdered, you idiot! Scowling, he dragged himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the sink basin. His movements were brusque and angry as he brushed his teeth to rid himself of the lingering taste, and he glared balefully at his own reflection, noting his red-rimmed, puffy eyes standing out in his ashen face. It's not like this is the end of the world. He closed his eyes briefly at the flutter of panic in his belly. She's not leaving you. She still loves you. You just have to accept that she's been traumatized by such a disaster. She'll come around eventually. Besides, you said so yourself: it's only a few months till school is over. Just be patient and everything will work out. It has to...

Rinsing his mouth one last time, he glanced back in the mirror. His whole face drooped with fatigue and sadness. Just take a damned potion, you daft sod, and get over yourself.

With that, he opened his cabinet and snagged a bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draught, opening it as he entered his bedroom again. With a deft wave of his wand, he shucked his clothing, and he downed a swig of the potion, sliding into his chilly, lonely bed. It was early morning, and breakfast would begin within a couple of hours, but he had no desire to go to the Great Hall after the previous night's debacle. No reason to rub salt in the wound, after all...

In the darkness, he felt the potion taking effect, and an errant wisp of thought worked its way to the forefront of his mind. Nope. Still don't like Valentine's Day.

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

The next morning, Ginny was late getting up, feeling lazy after a wonderful time with Harry the previous day. Eventually getting herself together, she stretched and yawned, making her way down to the common room, only to see a knot of younger Gryffindors whispering and muttering, all with very hostile expressions. There was an air of tension in the room, and she frowned, wondering what was going on. As she entered, a fourth-year girl whirled around, eyeing her suspiciously. When the girl spun back to the group, Ginny heard a stage whisper saying, "She's her friend. I'll bet she might know what her problem is."

All eyes turned toward her, and the throng parted, letting Dennis Creevey step out of the middle. The boy was still shorter than his peers, which is why Ginny hadn't been able to see him within the circle. His face was set in a scowl, and he marched up to Ginny, glaring up at her.

"All right. What's Hermione's problem, eh? I thought she was supposed to be nice!"

Ginny glanced around in confusion. Blinking at all the resentful glares directed toward her, she peered past the circle of students and saw Colin sitting in the middle of the group, wan and morose. A suspicion struck her, and she narrowed her eyes, staring at Colin while she muttered, "What are you talking about, Dennis?"

Dennis gestured angrily at Colin and said, "Hermione! She was downright mean to Colin, and all he did was ask her to be his Valentine!"

Ginny's eyes widened, and she shook her head in disbelief at Colin's folly. Ignoring Dennis, she gazed straight at Colin and said, "I thought you were smarter than that, Colin!"

An indignant gasp swept over the group, and Dennis huffed, "Oi! Watch it, Weasley. You're as bad as she is..."

Ginny pushed past Dennis and strode through the mob, glaring down at Colin. Hands on her hips, she hissed, "I thought I had made myself plain before! Didn't I tell you to back off? If she had to resort to strong words to get it through your thick skull that she doesn't like you that way, then it's your fault for keeping after her against all reason!"

Colin's lips trembled, and Ginny backed up, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands heavenward. "I give up." She spun, charging toward the corridor to Hermione's room, then stopped, abruptly swinging around to cast a baleful glare over the group. Pointing a finger at them, she said, "Look, you lot had better clear out and leave Hermione alone. It's none of your business to begin with." She paused to cast a scathing look at Colin before continuing. "And I recommend believing me the first time." She paused again, arms crossed, waiting for the crowd to disperse. As they exchanged sullen looks and muttered to each other, they finally separated into pairs and singles, either leaving through the portrait hole or heading to their dormitories. Ginny's reputation for prowess with the Bat-Bogey Hex preceded her.

Dennis glared mulishly at Ginny as everyone left, then gripped his older brother's arm and said, "Come on, Colin. Let's get away from these witches." The two boys trudged off, and Ginny turned her attention to more important things: Hermione.

Hermione dragged herself to her door at the impatient knocking. "Who is it?" she croaked.

A muffled voice said, "It's Ginny! I need to talk to you."

Flinging the door open, Hermione lurched back to the bed, crawling under her covers again as Ginny stepped in and shut the door behind her. Ginny was eyeing her keenly, and Hermione just lay there, waiting for her to speak.

After a long moment, Ginny finally murmured, "You look like hell."

Hermione grimaced and rolled her eyes, rolling onto her back and yanking the other pillow over her face. "Sod off."

Ginny blinked at the out-of-character rejoinder and crossed to sit on the end of the bed. Frowning in concern, she said, "Is it because of Colin?"

Hermione wrenched the pillow from her face and glared at Ginny, taken aback. In a hiss, she said, "What do you mean?"

Ginny offered a moue of sympathy and said, "Dennis Creevey said you were 'mean' to Colin when he had asked you to be his Valentine. I told him it was his own fault..."

Hermione closed her eyes in pained remembrance and rasped, "It was awful."

Patting her friend's arm, Ginny gently said, "Why don't you tell me what happened."

Hermione struggled to sit up against her headboard, holding her pillow in front of her and staring with haunted eyes into the middle distance as she recounted her tale of woe. Starting with her early retreat, seething with envy of everyone else, to Snape's glorious surprise filling her room with her favourite flowers, to his even better surprise of showing up later...Ginny gasped and goggled at such wonderful gifts...on through their delight in being together, and finally to Crookshanks's discovery of Colin's eavesdropping with an Extendable Ear. At Ginny's expression of horror, Hermione paused, tears welling up again as she went on to explain how she and Snape had to deal with the disaster of Colin's discovery.

She wiped her cheeks and sniffled vainly as she said, "So, I had to be as harsh and hateful as possible, to make sure he finally understood."

Ginny's eyes were limpid with sympathy for everyone involved in the debacle as she murmured soothingly, "You did what had to be done."

Hermione's eyes flashed angrily at Ginny and she retorted, "That's exactly what Severus said! Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Ginny closed her eyes and bowed her head for a moment before continuing, "At least you know you only did it under such dire circumstances. It's not like you're normally cruel. That's a good thing, isn't it?" She gazed at Hermione imploringly, hoping she'd stop beating herself up about it.

Hermione shrugged listlessly, staring at her hands. Ginny latched onto the good parts of the evening, hoping to cheer Hermione up. "So... Wow, I had no idea Snape could be so... romantic! Lucky you, eh?" She cast a bright smile at Hermione. Thus, it was a very confused Ginny who watched her friend shoot a reproachful look at her before dissolving into tears again. Smile melting away in dismay, Ginny faltered, "Um... did I say something wrong?"

Hermione sniffled and wiped her cheeks again. Her voice was almost a wail as she said, "I sent him away. I hurt him, too. And it kills me!"

Eyes goggling in astonishment, Ginny leant forward and hissed, "Sent him away? Did you just break up with him?"

Hermione shook her head vehemently, gasping, "No! I love him so much. That's why I had to send him away. After such a close call, I can't take the chance that we get found out. We just have to wait until school is over."

Ginny exhaled on a long note, her eyes closing in relief. Her mind was racing through the ramifications of what had transpired. Just a few months previously, she wouldn't have cared about what happened to Snape, but after seeing how he affected Hermione, and getting to know him as well, she felt sorry for the man who never seemed to get anything nice for all his sacrifices. He wasn't a bad fellow after all, and she rather appreciated his sardonic wit and protective streak. A throb of worry at how he was faring made her bite her lip. At this rate, class Tuesday might be back to being horrid.

Shaking her head to return to the matter at hand, Ginny took a deep breath and said, "Hey, you know I'll stand by you no matter what sort of codswallop Colin may spread around. Don't worry about that, all right?" Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. "And I'll make sure the others understand, too. But, seriously, don't hesitate to go to McGonagall after all, if he keeps acting a prat. That'd take the wind out of his sails."

Wearily, Hermione said, "Thanks, Gin. I think I'm just gonna' try to sleep a bit more. I'll see you lot later."

Ginny patted Hermione's arm and stood. "Sure thing. Try to feel better, 'kay?" She left quietly, and Hermione waved her wand at the door to lock and ward it again, closing her eyes in determination.

Go to sleep. The more you sleep, the less time there is left before term is over.

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

Public opinion varied from one extreme to the other regarding Hermione's cold rejection of Colin. Fortunately, Ginny had been her most persuasive self, and the seventh-years and most of the sixth-years were on Hermione's side. Colin found himself in company of mostly younger Gryffindors who felt he had been poorly treated. Still, the weekend dragged for Hermione, who felt even worse that she hadn't seen Snape in the Great Hall for meals since she had sent him away. Remorse and worry gnawed at her, and she threw herself into her studies for N.E.W.T.s in an effort to keep her mind occupied elsewhere.

Finally, Monday at lunch, Hermione saw Snape taking his seat at the High Table, and a wave of relief and anxiety crashed over her. He glanced at her, but averted his eyes quickly, and her stomach clenched in worry. Rapidly losing her appetite, Hermione shakily reached for the tea service, heart beating in panic as she prepared a cup with honey and lemon. Wrapping her hands around the cup, she cast a desperate glance up at Snape, praying he would join her.

Snape saw Hermione's anxious actions, and he gripped his fork, clenching his other hand into a fist as he fought the hurt and resentment and desire and desperation within him. Swallowing hard, he forced his muscles to relax, one by one, and sucked in a calming breath. Flicking his eyes toward her again, he slowly Summoned the tea service on his table and followed suit in preparing their "tonic."

Hermione wilted in her seat, crumpling forward and resting her forehead against her hands in thanks that Snape wasn't too upset with her to at least maintain their private ritual. Taking a reverent sip, she offered up a trembling smile, hoping he would forgive her for denying them time together.

Snape finished his tea, picking at his food. Even though he hadn't eaten much, he left the Hall fairly early. Hermione watched him go through her lashes, sad that he seemed so closed off again. Hopefully she could mend the breach before the next rehearsal.

**** ******

Hermione couldn't help but wonder whether or not everyone would show up for the next rehearsal, even though a few weren't needed. The notice on the board had said, "Friday February 20: block Raoul's entrance through end. Actors required to attend: Everyone except for Ron, Neville, Draco, and Professor McGonagall." At least they were almost done with the blocking, and would soon be able to start incorporating costumes and songs and everything from the start all the way through.

She was looking forward to Friday, since she would finally be able to talk with Snape again. He had evidently taken her at her word and was clearly more conscientious about following her strictures than she had been when their positions had been reversed. Even during class on Wednesday, he had remained stoically impassive, and Hermione felt a pang of unease that he didn't seem to regard her any differently than the rest of the class. While it made it easier for her to follow his lead in distancing herself from him, she felt her heart rebelling, desperately missing his love.

Thus, it was a very pensive Hermione who sat at the Gryffindor table Friday at dinner, waiting for Snape to collect her before rehearsal.

Snape, for his part, had wrestled with himself over and over again, beating back the urges to write to her, or go to her, to plead his case. But, some wise part of him told him that he had to do his duty by Hermione as well, and prove that he was capable of acceding to her desires, lest some impulsive act offend her or alienate her, indicating that his needs were somehow more important than hers.

His love and need for her hadn't diminished in the slightest, and he knew he would rush to her as soon as the moment was right. In the meantime, he drew on his long experience of patient, dogged, cautious restraint, and he withdrew into his long-perfected Potions Master persona. Still, he no longer exhibited the caustic anger that boiled up at the slightest provocation. His sarcasm and cold, domineering ways still lived, but they were no longer supported by an ill-concealed bitterness and rage. Instead, there was an almost melancholy sort of long-suffering dignity underlying the strict, sour façade.

Had he stopped to ponder the reason behind such a change, he would have realized that the hoped-for reward for his patience and restraint was so different this time around, and the happiness that awaited him at the end of these trials was unlike anything he had ever had any right to expect before...and that made all the difference.

So it was that, with a sober expression nearly bordering on serene, Snape strode down the aisle to Hermione Friday evening.

Nodding in passing at the rest of her friends, he simply murmured, "Miss Granger."

Hermione shot to her feet and tossed a farewell over her shoulder as she followed in the wake of his black robes. Out in the corridor, she kept casting anxious glances up at him, until it dawned on her that they were walking toward the stairs. Taken aback, she frowned and said, "Sir?"

Snape barely looked at her and said, "Yes?"

Stomach fluttering, she said, "Why aren't we Apparating?"

Snape stopped, turning to face her. Gazing into her upturned face, he said, "I did not wish to take liberties, Miss Granger." His expression was consciously neutral, and Hermione felt almost panicked.

Wildly glancing about, she saw that they were alone in the corridor, and, too quietly for any paintings nearby to be able to hear, whispered an agonized query. "Severus?"

Snape's chest tightened, and he closed his eyes at the fear in her voice. Wanting nothing more than to gather her in his arms and never let go, he instead clenched his fists and breathed slowly through his nose, fighting back his emotions. Opening his eyes, he merely extended his arm and murmured, "Very well then. By your leave..."

Hermione gripped his arm vehemently, eyes wide as she nodded. Snape Apparated them to his sitting room, and Hermione released his arm, only to throw herself against him, burying her face in his chest and clutching at his back. Snape's head rolled back and he grimaced at the difficulty with which he pried her off him. Even with the iron grip he maintained on his emotions, a faint flush of colour stained his cheeks, and his eyes grew bright under the torment.

Hermione backed away in confusion at his refusal to return her embrace, fear trickling like ice through her veins. Her voice quavered as she asked, "Severus, what's wrong?"

Snape gently put her away from him and crossed to his bathroom, saying, "Nothing is wrong. We simply must refrain from indulging in these sorts of displays." Returning with the hair products, he continued, "We are to wait until the school year is over, correct?" He placed the items on the side table and took his place for her to begin her task.

Hermione picked up the brush in trembling fingers. "But... surely it can't hurt to be close. We only have such limited time together as it is..."

Snape spun and regarded her with a mixture of longing and reproach. His voice was low as he said, "Have you ever heard of the slippery slope, Hermione?"

She blinked, understanding his point in an instant. Swallowing hard, she attempted to be as cool and controlled as Snape was. Setting her lips, she guided him to turn back around and began brushing his hair. There was a long silence, taut with the effort each was making.

When she finished, she murmured, "Ready." Snape stood and Summoned his mask. They paused and gazed at each other wistfully.

Hermione ducked her head, looking away from the mute devotion in Snape's eyes. If she kept letting herself drown in it, she knew she'd not be able to keep from crumbling and caving in to her consuming love and desire for him. In her desperate need to think about something else, she remembered the quandary they would face at rehearsal. Snapping her gaze back to his, her eyes widened in anxiety as she said, "What are we going to do about tonight?"

Snape frowned. "What about tonight?"

"We're finishing the play. The climactic scene. When I kiss you..."

Snape blinked rapidly. Clearing his throat, he said, "Treat it the way it must be treated. It's acting. We're merely doing our duty. Maintain control, and there should be no problem. It's not like everyone doesn't know it's coming."

Hermione chewed her lip. In a whisper, she said, "I'll do my best." She locked eyes with him again and breathed, "I do love you, Severus. And this is so hard."

Snape's face fell, and he raised his eyes to hers, retorting softly, "I know. Trust me." He saw the hopeful gleam in her eyes and relented a fraction. "I love you, Hermione. I'm just following your wishes. We both know it's the right thing."

She nodded again and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Shall we go, then?"

Snape drew himself up and settled his shoulders. "Indeed." They Disapparated.

When everyone had entered the Hall, Hermione noted that both Ron and Neville had come to the rehearsal, even though they weren't needed. Draco, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen, and McGonagall, too, was apparently taking the night off. Hermione was grateful for the boys' attendance, as they joined Harry and Ginny in staving off Colin's sulky behaviour, giving her moral support.

Dumbledore prepared the stage and the actors for practice and Harry descended into the trap door, while Snape and Hermione took their places onstage.

"All right, everyone... this is the last blocking rehearsal! I want to reiterate how pleased I've been with everyone's hard work thus far. After tonight, we'll be able to move forward in earnest and really start performing. So, with that in mind, let's give this practice 100%!" Dumbledore beamed at the cast and set up the music box at the end of his rousing speech.

Snape and Hermione exchanged a look, nodding faintly at each other, before Dumbledore called for Harry to climb out of the trap door to start the scene. As soon as Snape saw Dumbledore gesture, he cocked his head, taking notice of Harry's arrival. His lips spread in a horrible smile as he said, "Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest!" Then, he turned to Harry, who was gripping the bars of the portcullis and staring at them. Offering a mocking bow, he continued, "Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight!" He pressed a hand against his chest and said, "I had rather hoped that you would come. And now my wish comes true...you have truly made my night!"

Hermione, as Christine, remained where she was, frozen, fearing what the Phantom would do. Harry stretched one hand through the bars toward Hermione, reciting, "Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?"

Snape affected boredom, facing away from them and pretending to study his nails. Barely sparing a glance over his shoulder at Hermione, he shrugged toward Harry's impassioned stance as he commented, "Your lover makes a passionate plea."

Hermione broke in, "Please, Raoul, it's useless..."

Harry turned his attention to Snape and gripped the bars again, scowling as he said, "I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion..."

At that, Snape's façade of ennui shattered, and he rounded furiously on Harry, charging toward the portcullis and snarling, "The world showed no compassion to me!"

Harry once again looked at Hermione and said, "Christine... Christine..." Then, he faced Snape again and begged, "Let me see her."

Snape gripped a crossbar on the portcullis and bowed with mock-courtesy as he said, "Be my guest, sir." With a minute push, the portcullis rose slowly, and a Punjab lasso lowered into view at the same lazy speed. While Harry waited impatiently for the portcullis to rise far enough for him to scramble under it, Snape went on, "Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her?" Harry dropped to his hands and knees to crawl under the portcullis and Snape lifted his hand without looking, knowing that Dumbledore would guide the rope into his grasp.

His polite tone hardened as he continued, "Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours?" Harry was struggling to his feet, and Snape deftly looped the lasso around his neck on the last word, letting go and watching it rise quickly, until Harry grabbed at it in a panic, trying to pull it away from his throat. Snape shot a look at Dumbledore, wondering at the man's apparent disregard for his pet student's composure.

Hermione was taken aback by the flare of real panic in Harry's face and she stepped toward him, saying, "Harry!"

Snape glanced back at the pair, noting that Harry's feet were stretched up on tiptoe, and he barked, "Sir!"

Dumbledore looked up from his script in surprise, his wand dropping a fraction. The rope, too, fell a foot or two, and Harry crumpled forward, pulling the rope from his throat and coughing. Hermione supported him and impatiently struggled to remove the lasso from his neck. Snape stared at the headmaster in shock, astonished that he had been so careless.

Dumbledore realized his mistake at once and immediately began apologizing. Snape noticed that McGonagall wasn't there to intercede on her charge's behalf, so he quickly strode over to Harry and Hermione, authoritatively motioning for Hermione to let go of him, and gesturing for Harry to sit on the stage. "Sit, Potter. Miss Granger, do stop hovering. Let me see." He waved Hermione away, and she retreated a few steps. Students emerged from the wings and from within the house, watching Snape kneel and tilt Harry's head back to examine the mark made by the rope.

Harry was breathing shallowly, clearly spooked. The rope had pressed into his flesh, leaving an angry red line, but the skin was not broken. Rather, the damage was more to the boy's confidence in his elder. Snape's lips thinned and he muttered, "Don't move. I'll be right back." He shot to his feet and Disapparated. A few beats later, he returned, two bottles in his hand. Dropping to his knees again, he fished out a handkerchief and moistened it with the solution in one of the bottles. Nodding peremptorily at Harry, he said, "Back." Harry once again tilted his head back, and Snape bathed the mark with the potion. It disappeared before their eyes. "Enough." Harry tipped his head back to a level and peered at Snape in wonder. Snape pocketed the first bottle and opened the second one. "Here. Swallow." Harry obediently took a swig, relaxing almost instantly as it took effect. Hermione looked more closely at the bottle and recognized at as the same sort of Calming Draught he had given her.

Dumbledore was watching Snape's ministrations anxiously, shaken that he had been so oblivious. Once he had finished his treatment, Snape stood. "No harm done, Potter." He backed away, noting Dumbledore's expression of shame.

Hermione darted back to Harry, crouching and comforting him, seeing him eyeing Snape with an incredulous expression. Her suspicions were confirmed when he whispered, "Bloody hell! And I thought I had more to worry about if Snape were the one to control the damn rope!"

Snape's keen teacher's ears caught the comment, and he stifled a snort. Still, after Dumbledore's oversight, perhaps it would be a better idea for Snape to be the one handling the lasso. He strode over to the headmaster and said, "Sir, why don't you allow me to control the lasso, as you already have so much else to worry about?"

Dumbledore's knitted brow relaxed in relief at the suggestion, and he readily agreed. Harry and Hermione both looked up in surprise. Snape nodded and crossed back to the pair. His voice was low as he said, "Up you go. You needn't worry, Potter. It sha'n't happen again. I shall be in complete control. I trust the potion has had the desired effect?"

Harry nodded, floating serenely in the potion-induced calm, even as his brain grappled with the astounding events that had just transpired. He got to his feet, and Hermione released him. Harry looked Snape straight in the eye and gravely said, "I feel much better. Thank you, sir. And..." He shot a quick glance at the still-chagrined headmaster. "I think I'll be more comfortable with you in charge of my 'hanging.'" He managed to crack a wry half-smile at Snape, whose brows rose in surprise at the boy's admission.

Glancing at Hermione, he saw exultation at their interaction blazing in her eyes, and he inclined his head modestly. His voice pitched low enough that the rest of the cast wouldn't be able to hear him, Snape said, "Well, I have had quite a bit of practice at saving your hide, Potter, so this should be quite simple."

Harry's eyes snapped open wide at the apparent gibe, and Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the bark of laughter that erupted. Harry blinked, looking between his friend and the man who had changed so much in the past few months. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that Snape would not only be decent to him, but would go so far as to tease him.

Completely at a loss, all Harry could say was, "Yes, sir."

Snape snorted, then straightened, and in a businesslike tone said, "Now, shall we proceed? Take your position, Potter, and I'll handle the rope."

Harry watched warily as Snape snapped his fingers at the lasso, Summoning it to him without a word. Once he had it in his grasp, Snape looked at Harry expectantly, cocking an eyebrow at him. Harry frowned, approaching him slowly, shying away as Snape made to loop it around his neck. His cringe made Snape pause, and he sighed, calmly saying, "I'm not going to hurt you, Potter. You have my word." Harry peered at him and finally nodded, holding still as Snape secured the lasso around his neck and carefully raised the rope until it pulled taut under Harry's chin. At the look of rising panic in Harry's eyes, Snape repeated, albeit with a note of impatience, "My word, Potter." When the rope was taut, Snape stopped, keeping it at that point, and not raising it higher so Harry would be teetering on tiptoe.

After a beat, in which he looked pointedly at Hermione, who hurried back to her place, Snape nodded toward Dumbledore and resumed his part, ignoring the susurrus of shocked whispers around them as the rest of the cast faded back into the wings and house.

Backing away from Harry toward Hermione, Snape taunted, "Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now...except perhaps Christine..." He spun, towering over Hermione and gripping her wrist. Dragging her away from Harry, he tossed the mannequin from the throne and roughly sat her in it, dropping to his knee beside her and brandishing her hand between them, pointedly drawing attention to the ring he had placed on her finger as he continued, "Start a new life with me... Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death!" He flung her hand away and gestured imperiously at Harry. "This is the choice... This is the point of no return!"

Hermione stared at him, then looked at Harry before locking eyes with Snape again as she said, "The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate..."

Snape recoiled from her and scowled fiercely as the three of them began their interweaving parts.

Harry hung there, hands wrapped around the rope as he said, "Christine, forgive me, please forgive me... I did it all for you and all for nothing..."

Hermione stared at nothing as she said, "Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend... One by one I've watched illusions shattered..."

Snape wrenched away from her and crossed his arms as he overlapped her, saying, "Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity..."

Harry continued, "Say you love him, and my life is over!" while Snape said, "Past all hope of cries for help: no point in fighting..." Then, Harry and Snape were almost in unison as Harry said, "Either way you choose, he has to win..." and Snape said, "For either way you choose, you cannot win!"

Then, Snape was alone as he rounded back toward Hermione and continued, "So do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave?" grabbing her hands and pulling her from her seat, shoving her toward Harry on the last word.

Hermione stumbled to Harry and clutched at him as Harry said, "Why make her lie to you, to save me?"

Embracing Harry, Hermione began, "Angel of Music..." while Snape goaded her, saying, "Past the point of no return..." and Harry pleaded, "For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"

Turning an expression of agonized grief to Snape, Hermione went on, "...why this torment?" as Snape was still taunting, "...the final threshold..." and Harry said, "Don't throw your life away for my sake..."

Hermione released Harry and faced Snape in despair, saying, "When will you see reason...?" while Snape gestured harshly at them, saying, "His life is now the prize which you must earn!" and Harry followed with a pitiful, "I fought so hard to free you..."

Hermione took a step toward Snape as she said, "Angel of Music..." and Snape wound down with, "You've passed the point of no return..."

There was a bare moment of electric silence before Hermione said, her voice trembling with emotion, "...you deceived me...I gave my mind blindly..."

Snape stiffened as if he had been slapped, and drew himself up, coldly biting out, "You try my patience...make your choice!"

Hermione stepped toward Snape again, and Harry reached out, in a futile attempt to stop her. Her expression composed into one of calm resolution as she advanced on Snape, saying, "Pitiful creature of darkness... What kind of life have you known...?" As she neared him, he stared at her, unmoving. She stopped very close to him, and he swallowed as she gently laid a hand on his heaving chest, saying, "God give me courage to show you..." She gazed into his eyes and smoothed her hand up his chest and throat to slide behind his neck, saying, "...you are not alone..."

It was the moment of truth. As the word died on her lips, she pulled his face down, stretching up to kiss him full on the lips. Her other hand rose to caress his cheek, holding his face still. Her eyes closed and she poured her soul from her lips to his.

Snape's eyes widened in shock, then closed. His hands splayed out to either side, rigid in astonishment, until he seemed to crumble under the onslaught, and his trembling hands closed around her, embracing her for a moment, seeming to revel in the consummation of his love. Then, his demeanour changed again, and he stiffened once more, pulling away and wrenching her hands from him. His pained grimace as he staggered backwards tore at Hermione's heart.

Stumbling, dazed, Snape made his way toward Harry, who was staring at him in horrified fascination. He snapped his fingers, and the rope fell to the stage, allowing Harry to drop to his knees and struggle out of the loop.

The cast members in the wings faintly recited, "Track down this murderer...he must be found!" and some said, "Who is the monster, this murdering beast?"

Snape looked at Hermione, who hurried over to Harry where he knelt, casting wary looks at Snape, but he simply said, in a flat voice, "Take her...forget me...forget all of this..." He dragged back toward the throne, continuing, "Leave me alone...forget all you've seen..." He grabbed at the back of the throne, flailing at them as he rasped, "Go now...don't let them find you!"

Offstage, the others said, "Hunt out this animal, who runs to ground!" and "Revenge for Piangi! Revenge for Buquet!"

Snape sagged into the throne and persisted, "Take the boat...leave me here...go now, don't wait..." He waved his hand at the portcullis, and it slowly started to rise as he sighed, "Just take her and go...before it's too late..." The offstage voices continued, "Too long he's preyed on us...but now we know: the Phantom of the Opera is there, deep down below..." and "This creature must never go free..."

Harry and Hermione stood, wrapped in each other's embrace, staring incredulously at Snape. The portcullis was high enough that the boat could pass beneath it, and Snape shot a frustrated look at them, gesturing impatiently at the boat and growling, "Go..." When they still didn't move, his composure broke and he lurched to his feet, staggering toward them and roaring, "Go now...go now and leave me!" They scurried off, guiding the boat under the portcullis.

Snape whirled, hands gripped in his hair in agony, and he collapsed onto his knees, curling forward in despair. The music box sat beside the throne, and his mask lay by it. When it started playing, he whipped his head up to look at it, snorting in self-mockery as he looked at the mask. Crawling toward them, he hunkered back on his heels and hesitantly touched the music box, faltering, "Masquerade... Paper faces on parade... Masquerade... Hide your face, so the world will never find you..."

From the other side of the portcullis, Hermione crept back in, and Snape spun, sensing her presence. He gazed longingly up at her as she approached him, hand outstretched. A spark of hope lit his face and he said, "Christine, I love you..." He lifted his hand to hers, only to feel her firmly place the ring he had given her in his palm. Startled, he withdrew his hand, looking sadly at the ring before casting another pleading look at her. She retreated a step, shaking her head faintly before turning and hastening out.

Snape stared after her for a long moment, then bowed his head in defeat. With a wistful expression, he slipped the ring on his finger and clenched his fist. Behind the portcullis, Harry and Hermione faded away in the boat, Hermione saying, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... Say the word and I will follow you..."

Snape cringed, then waved his hand at the portcullis, bringing it back down as Harry answered, "Share each day with me..."

Heaving to his feet, Snape slumped to the portcullis, gripping the bars as he peered through them after the retreating boat, as Hermione continued, "...each night..." and Harry added, "...each morning..."

Even though his back was to the house, the devastation of spirit was evident in the tension in his frame as he uttered his impassioned finale, "You alone can make my song take flight...it's over now, the music of the night..."

Sagging against the bars, he jerked his head up where the other cast members would be climbing down the portcullis, then reeled back to his throne, where he yanked his cloak from the seat and sank into it, wrapping it around him. Behind the portcullis, cast members entered the stage, walking out to where they would arrive after climbing down the bars. With a concerted effort, they managed to lift the gate enough that Ginny could slither underneath.

While they were struggling with the portcullis, Snape concealed himself within his cloak, waiting to hear Ginny's approach. As she stepped beside the throne, he heard her gasp, giving him the cue to Disapparate as she whipped the cloak off him. The timing was right, and he appeared in the back of the house in time to see the cloak fluttering to the stage at her feet and her kneeling to examine the mask that was left on the seat of the throne. She picked it up and gazed out into the house, holding it up for all to see.

It was over.

There was a pregnant pause, until Ron and Neville began cheering and clapping wildly, even stomping in the excess of their approval. At that, cast members poured onto the stage, beaming and hugging, congratulating each other on getting this far. Dumbledore watched, hands clasped under his chin in an attitude of ultimate satisfaction.

Snape took a deep breath to restore himself after the emotionally charged scene, then he Apparated a little behind the milling throng onstage. As they started to notice his presence, many students turned awed expressions on him, then glanced awkwardly between him and Hermione. Ginny grinned at him and said, "Perfect timing on disappearing, sir! That was brilliant!"

Snape inclined his head and smoothly retorted, "Thank you, Miss Weasley. I appreciated the subtle cue."

Dumbledore clapped his hands for attention, and all eyes turned to him. "That was marvellous, as always. Now, before we get too carried away in celebration, you all need to write that blocking down in your scripts. Also, I want all of the mob members to gather here on the apron, so I can direct you to how you'll all enter the scene on the portcullis." Everyone except Snape, Hermione, and Harry surged forward, scripts in hand and expressions attentive.

Hermione, Snape, and Harry dutifully wrote the blocking in their scripts, Harry finishing first, as he had less to make note of. He glanced between the others, eyes thoughtful and brow furrowed. Eventually, Hermione looked up and saw his expression, murmuring, "What's on your mind, Harry? Are you sure you're okay?"

Harry blinked, turning his attention to her completely. "What? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. I mean, that was pretty scary, but I feel fine after the potion." He snorted ruefully. "I can't not feel fine after that dose, you know?" He frowned again and gazed toward Dumbledore and the rest of the group. "I just never expected Dumbledore to be the one to put me in danger. Quite a nasty shock, I must say..."

Snape kept his eyes down, but he heard everything they said. He knew the disillusion Harry was feeling at his mentor's fallibility, having experienced it himself. It surprised him to feel a pang of empathy for the boy.

Harry huffed reflectively and said, "Speaking of shocks... Are you okay?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side in perplexity. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry edged closer to her and jerked his head toward Snape, whispering, "You know... after kissing him?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed in disappointment and anger. In a flat tone, she said, "You're not still on about that, are you?"

Harry's brows rose, and he blinked. Hermione pinned him with a steely gaze, crossing her arms in haughty indignation. Harry cast a helpless glance back at Snape, who was still pretending to be absorbed in his script. "Uh... never mind. Just... forget I said anything."

Voice dripping with disdain, Hermione retorted, "I'll try."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around uncomfortably. Snape remained where he was, tamping down his anger at Harry's intimation. Suddenly, any empathy he may have felt for the boy was gone. Straightening regally, he merely cast an inscrutable look at the pair, then stalked offstage, waiting for Dumbledore to finish his directions.

The mob members climbed to the catwalks above the stage and learnt how to attach safety lines before they began their climb down the portcullis. Ginny had to practice releasing hers as soon as she reached the stage, so she could crawl under the portcullis. Snape leant against the side wall in the wing, watching the group in silence. Hermione was gazing intently at them as well, clearly giving Harry the cold shoulder.

It hadn't been difficult to play the role of the Phantom during the kiss. With their current situation, and the restraint they were doing their best to achieve, the surprise of her passionate kiss and his journey from shock to joy to denial mirrored their real-life path. If she were to accost him when they were alone, he knew he would have to refuse her in such a fashion. He closed his eyes in frustration. Heaving a sigh, he thought, At least she won't be traipsing off with someone else, like Christine does. I have something to look forward to, unlike the poor Phantom.

Finally, the cast was ready, and they began again, this time having the mob members take their positions on the portcullis from above and climbing down. Snape had the Punjab lasso under control, much to Harry's relief. Again, as they reached the end, and Snape hid himself under the cloak, he waited, ears pricked for the sound of Ginny about to snatch the cloak. It took much longer this time, and Snape wondered what was going on. Finally, he heard an exasperated huff from upstage, and Ginny said, "Sorry, everyone. I got stuck." There was a ripple of murmurs, and eventually Ginny said, "There! Okay, I'm ready. Sorry."

Snape finally heard her approaching, and, at her cue, Disapparated. When he rejoined the cast to begin again, this time with the music, he was struck with an idea. Absently handing the ring back to Hermione and placing his mask by the throne, his lips quirked in calculation. Hermione noticed his expression and wondered what he was thinking.

They took their places, and Dumbledore stood by his music box, ready to open it. "Ready?"

Snape cut a glance at the headmaster and held up his hand for a moment, then pulled out his wand and cast his glamour. Hermione gasped in surprise. Snape's black eyes gazed intently through the glamour in challenge. Swallowing, Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. Dumbledore merely hummed thoughtfully, waiting for Snape's cue. With a nod, he pocketed his wand again and dropped his hand, ready to start.

When Harry emerged from the trap door and saw Snape, he blanched, unprepared for the horror of Snape's glamour. Snape saw his recoil and used it to fuel his performance.

The glamour that Flitwick had created was quite thorough. The portion of Snape's face that was usually covered by the mask was disfigured, looking as if the skull beneath the flesh were sunken and deformed. The cheekbone caved in, and the eye socket was ragged and huge. What looked like raw flesh surrounded the eyeball, which was bulging. The temple was lumpy, and the skin was scarred, spreading across the forehead. The cheek and the area just before his ear were sunken and pocked, with angry weals and ropy scars stretching grotesquely across it. Even Snape's high-bridged nose was altered, with the masked side almost non-existent, and the nostril gaping along the length. To complete the image, the flesh under the mask went from raw reds and purples to yellowed scars.

Even Hermione had trouble looking at him, and she loved him!

The addition of the music and Snape's use of the glamour heightened the tension and pathos of the scene as they swept through it for the final time that night. Everyone in the wings and in the house stared in rapt fascination as the intensity grew.

Hermione felt a vague sense of surprise when she realized that tears were trailing down her cheeks during the confrontation, and a portion of her mind was grateful that her throat hadn't tightened and affected her singing. When she approached Snape for the climactic kiss, she gazed at the glamour, gut twisting with revulsion, but that only served to highlight Christine's sacrifice, and Hermione forced herself to see her love behind the horror.

This time, her fingers lifted to trace along the glamour, and she was glad that at least he felt normal. Heart full, she pulled him down to kiss him, buoyed along by the surge of music and emotion.

Snape's stunned reaction was far from feigned, as he felt her tongue sliding along his lips, just as they had that first time in his classroom. His startled gasp allowed her entrance, and he nearly groaned as he crushed her to him, savouring her taste. Then, panic rose within him, and he tore her hands from his hair, wrenching away, blinking at her in disbelief. Panting shallowly in fear, icy sweat prickling his skin, he staggered over to Harry, who was staring at him, owl-eyed in consternation.

The music changed, and he heard his voice rasping as he continued, swallowing desperately against his dry throat. Somehow, he managed to get through the rest of the rehearsal, and as soon as Dumbledore shut the music box, he Apparated to a spot right beside the proscenium, expression one of carefully-constructed indifference.

The rest of the cast swarmed out onto the apron, and Dumbledore looked around, seeing Snape leaning against the arch. He blinked and shook his head faintly as he gestured for Snape to join him.

"You may end the glamour at any time, you know," Dumbledore said as Snape approached.

"Of course." Snape quickly dispelled the glamour, noting that Dumbledore's shoulders seemed to relax a fraction as he did so.

"Mercy... Filius certainly did an exceptional job with that one." Dumbledore shook himself faintly, then eyed Snape with an uncomfortable frown. "I say, Severus, would you join me for a moment?" He tilted his head to the side, indicating that they should walk away from the chattering students.

Snape merely nodded, gut clenching in dread. He resisted the urge to glance back at Hermione. If he had, he would have seen several eyes following him and casting disconcerted looks at Hermione.

Hermione saw Dumbledore leading Snape away and felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dashed over her. Mentally berating herself for allowing herself to go so far with the kiss, she feared the worst. Ginny's keen eyes caught the direction of Hermione's gaze and guessed at her friend's anxiety. Surreptitiously scrabbling for Hermione's hand, Ginny squeezed it in a fleeting gesture of comfort.

In the meantime, Ron and Neville had ascended the stage, joining their mates and offering congratulations for a job well done. As they gathered near Hermione, everyone began faltering, unsure of what to say about the staggeringly passionate kiss they had just seen her share with their professor. An awkward silence fell over them, and they glanced about nervously. Hermione did her best to compose herself, steeling herself for their reactions.

Out in the house, far enough away that the cast couldn't hear them, Dumbledore peered at Snape and said, "Are you all right, Severus?"

Snape blinked, brow furrowing as he said, "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and shifted his weight, obviously unnerved. "My dear boy, if I was unsettled by such a kiss out here in the house, I can only imagine how stunned you might be."

Snape's nostrils flared. Settling his shoulders, he swallowed hard and murmured, "I will admit that I was rather taken aback, sir. Had I but known the lengths to which Miss Granger was prepared to go to exhibit realism onstage, I would have addressed the issue earlier."

Dumbledore seemed to fidget more, stroking his beard in a bemused fashion. In a sheepish tone, he said, "But that's just it: such an extraordinary performance! I know it may make you uncomfortable... but that climactic moment was more overwhelming than I could have ever dreamt. If Miss Granger feels comfortable and safe going to such lengths, I must say that it will likely go a long way toward winning that trophy." His expression was a mixture of entreaty and embarrassment, and Snape's eyes widened in incredulity.

In a strained hiss, Snape said, "Are you saying... what I think you're saying? Albus, have you gone mad?"

Dumbledore waved his hands about airily. "No, I've not lost my senses. The intensity was astounding! I can't see how anyone watching that couldn't be carried away on the tide of feeling. That's what will make us shine above the rest." He paused, clearing his throat in chagrin. "Is it really that bad?"

Snape stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. His voice cracked as he said, "I can't believe you're encouraging intimacy with a student..."

Dumbledore scowled in pique and slashed the air in irritation. "I'm not 'encouraging intimacy with a student.' You're both adults...a fact which we have already addressed at length. And, it's acting. It's not like you'll be 'performing' anywhere but within the scene on this stage." He paused, tilting his head and offering a wan smile. "Come now, Severus, can you put up with it, until we win this competition?"

Snape realized his mouth was hanging open and shut it with a snap. Involuntarily, he glanced over his shoulder at the throng of students. His mind was reeling with the shock he had just received. Blinking, he turned dazed eyes back to Dumbledore and swallowed, clearing his throat savagely. Slowly, cautiously, he said, "You are the Director... and the headmaster. If those are your instructions, I shall do as you say. Are you going to speak with Miss Granger?"

Dumbledore peered past Snape at the cast and shook his head. "I don't want to draw attention to it, lest she think her talent and instincts are a problem. The last thing I want to do is inhibit her." He beamed at Snape, patting his arm. "If it becomes an issue, I'll let you explain the situation to her. You two have obviously forged quite a trusting bond. I'm proud of you, Severus."

Snape goggled anew at the older man's praise. A fresh wave of shame that he was deceiving his long-time mentor washed over him, but a tiny prick of hope that perhaps Dumbledore wouldn't object to their true relationship when it became known flared up deep within him.

Back onstage, Ginny tried to break the awkward tension by saying, "You all were amazing. See, Harry, Snape's not such a bad fellow after all. I told you he had changed. It's a good thing he doesn't lose his head in a crisis, or you might have been really hurt."

Harry rubbed absently at his healed throat. "You have a point, but still..."

Planting her hands on her hips, Ginny glared at him warningly and said, "Still what?"

Harry knew better than to respond, and he shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the floor. Ron thought he understood and rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling, "Well, you know, he's the 'Greasy Git.' It's like a train wreck watching him snog Hermione."

Hermione's eyes flashed and her chin lifted in preparation of launching into a harangue. But, Neville spoke before she could. "Hey, wait a minute! Let's be fair... He didn't snog her. She snogged him." He, too, turned a disconcerted gaze on Hermione, shrugging apologetically.

Lavender edged closer, grimacing, and whispered, "How could you?"

Hermione's lips thinned in anger, and she seemed to radiate righteous indignation. In a glacial tone, she hissed, "It's called ACTING, you daft sods!"

Still bitter, even after nearly a week, Colin hung on the edge of the group, scowling. He couldn't help feeling both jealousy and disgust when he had seen Hermione kissing Snape, after she had been so hateful to him. His lips twisted in a nasty sneer as he spat, "I'm bloody well glad you're not going out with me, Hermione, after seeing you sully yourself with that disgusting, slimy, bat."

Jaws dropped and all eyes swung around as one, staring at Colin in stunned disbelief that he had said something so foul. There was a beat of charged silence, while everyone was too shocked to respond immediately, then Ron bellowed, "OI! Watch your mouth, Creevey!"

While Ron reddened, Ginny looked around furiously, "You've gone too far, Colin! Where's McGonagall?"

Everyone stood, frozen, watching the spectacle unfold. Hermione felt hot tears pricking her eyes as she fought to keep from exploding in anger. No one was quite prepared for what happened next.

Neville had taken one look at Hermione's glassy eyes and her reddening face and felt a hot protective rush flash over him. Hermione had been nothing but nice to him, and he knew he had her to thank for his new-found courage. She had been instrumental in helping him grow up, and he loved her like a sister he never had. Yoking some of the recently-discovered confidence, he growled, "Forget McGonagall; where's Snape?"

Spinning and charging downstage to the edge of the apron, Neville called, "Professor Snape!"

Dumbledore had just told Snape he was proud of him, and Snape was trying to think of an appropriate response, when both he and Dumbledore were distracted by Neville's shout.

Turning around, Snape frowned and said, "What is it, Longbottom?"

Neville glanced over his shoulder, and, seeming to gain strength from the sight of Hermione's tears, licked his lips and stood straight. "Professor, Hermione is being harassed, and it's not right!" His outburst galvanized everyone, who had never seen this side of Neville before.

Exchanging a glance, Snape and Dumbledore quickly strode to the stage and ascended. Casting a baleful glare over the group, Snape saw angry glares directed at Colin, who was looking both sullen and scared. Several other students avoided his eyes, quite uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

Making a beeline to the boy, Snape towered over Colin and softly said, "I shall not distress Miss Granger further by asking what vile things came out of your mouth, Mr. Creevey. It is not wise to let your petty envy get the better of you."

Colin's eyes widened. How had Snape known? Unnerved, Colin shrank back from the imposing man even more.

Dumbledore interjected, "Enough, all of you. I will not allow anyone to disparage Miss Granger's performance. Simply put: get used to it." He paused to let that astonishing morsel sink in. Even Hermione jerked, taken aback. Dumbledore's voice was steely and devoid of its usual ripple of good humour.

Hermione dared to shoot a glance at Snape, who was standing stiffly, his arms crossed, gazing down his nose in hauteur. Wondering what had transpired between the two men, she turned her attention back to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded politely to Snape. "Continue."

Snape narrowed his eyes at Colin and snarled, "Detention. Saturday afternoon, with Filch. Report to his office at 1:00 sharp." He paused to glare at everyone impartially. "And if I hear any other reports of harassing Miss Granger, prepare to lose a month of Saturdays. Is that clear?" There was vigorous nodding all around. "Very well then. Headmaster?" He inclined his head to Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Severus. I quite concur with Professor Snape." He peered over his spectacles meaningfully. Several faces flushed guiltily and eyes looked at the floor. Others stood straighter, defying anyone who thought to bother Hermione. "Next Tuesday, we'll run through the Labyrinth Underground to the end, including songs. Until then, good night." He gestured for the students to disperse.

Colin slunk up the aisle, leaving Hermione's supporters to flank her like a retinue. Dumbledore descended, gathering his script and music box and starting the cleanup.

Snape turned to Hermione's group and offered a courteous bow. "Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom. Miss Granger is fortunate to have such a loyal friend." While Neville coloured violently, and everyone else stared at Snape in surprise, Snape's lips twitched in a faint amused smile and he Disapparated, leaving them gaping.

Exchanging bewildered looks, they all trooped off the stage and to Gryffindor Tower. No one spoke, too confounded by the events of the evening to form a coherent thought. When they had all climbed through the portrait hole, a sigh of relief escaped them, since Colin was nowhere to be seen.

They stopped, looking at each other awkwardly. Hermione finally took the initiative and squeezed Ginny's hand, nodded to Harry and Ron, and resolutely crossed to Neville, giving him a quick hug. Offering him a wan, grateful smile, she retreated toward the corridor to her room and said, "Good night." With a final nod, she disappeared.

Neville sank onto a footstool, slightly overwhelmed. Ron clapped him on the shoulder and mumbled, "I'm off to bed. Night, all."

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek and said, "Me, too." Smiling at Neville, she ducked up the stairs to her dorm.

Harry stood there for a moment, then he sighed and said, "You coming to bed, mate?"

Neville nodded faintly. "I'll be there soon. You go on."

"Right then." With that, Harry left.

Neville stared into the fire. He had never earned points for Gryffindor from Professor Snape. It was quite an event for him. At that moment, he felt his old fear for the acerbic Potions Master ebbing away. It was rather an odd feeling, not having that bowel-twisting terror take hold of him anymore. An incredulous smile lit his face in the dancing glow of the fireplace.

He heard a noise and looked up. Ginny had crept back downstairs, peeking to see if anyone else were still about. When she saw the coast was clear, she stole into the common room, hurrying to Neville.

"Hi, Ginny..." Neville's greeting was abruptly cut off by Ginny's vehement embrace.

She hugged him tight for a long moment, then released him and kissed his cheek, cupping his face in her hands and whispering, "You're the best, Neville. Thank you." Then, with a farewell kiss on his forehead, she whirled and dashed off again.

Dazed, Neville touched the spots where Ginny had kissed him, grinning like an idiot. Bolstered by such regard, he got to his feet, his stride almost jaunty as he headed to his dorm. Looks like tonight was the night for surprise kisses!