III

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all. Not mine. Never was. Never will be.

Thank you to my beta readers, JuneW and DeeMichelle. And also to my ever supportive cheerleaders.

This story is dedicated to Southern_Witch_69 and ScatteredLogic.

Before Hermione could do little more than let out a small gasp, Professor Snape's hands had gripped her upper arms, pinning them to her sides.

'Where are you off to in such a hurry?' he asked her snidely.

'I'm sorry, Professor,' was all that she managed to say in reply before another voice chimed in.

'Ah, Severus, I'd wondered where you were,' said the headmaster. 'You've missed dinner, of course, but you're just in time to start off the dancing.'

Before Hermione could say anything or try to escape from her teacher's grip, Professor Dumbledore had risen from his chair and gathered the attention of the students so he could clear away the tables.

Next, Hermione heard Professor Dumbledore say, 'If you and Miss Granger would do the honours...'

This was followed by a disgusted grunt from Professor Snape and some mumbling which she thought sounded like, 'Bumbling, interfering, barmy old poufter,' as she felt herself being dragged to the centre of the dance floor at the very moment that the orchestra began.

Of course, through this entire ordeal, Hermione felt like she was standing in the midst of a thick fog and it wasn't until she heard the first bars of music that Hermione began to register what had happened. It came upon her suddenly that she was standing in the middle of the Great Hall with all of her professors and classmates staring at her as she stood in Professor Snape's stiff, unforgiving arms. As the music continued, Professor Snape began to rigidly lead her around the floor and after another several bars, Hermione finally felt herself relax as other couples joined them.

As they moved across the floor, Hermione looked anywhere but at the man who was holding her in his arms and she thought about anything but about him. Well, that is to say that she tried...rather unsuccessfully. After all, it's rather difficult not to look at someone who is standing directly in front of you, and it's even more difficult not to think about someone whose very presence was invading every single one of your senses.

Merlin, she could feel him as one hand gripped her waist and the other held her hand. She could hear him breathing, slow, calm breaths with the occasional annoyed sigh. Hermione could smell him; the juniper, honeysuckle and orange peel were the strongest of the scents, and she recognised them as ingredients in a common shaving potion used by many of the males in the school, including Harry and Ron. And recognising that he was male and she was dancing in his arms, Hermione felt as if she could almost taste him...

She drew her eyes up to look at him to find that he was staring intently at her hand, which he held tightly in his own.

He moved his gaze to her face. After several uncomfortable seconds while Hermione felt as if he were scrutinising her for everything that she'd ever done, he finally spoke, 'I believe that we need to talk, Miss Granger.'

She swallowed hard and nodded her agreement.

When the dance ended, he quickly led her away from the dance floor and out one of the doors in the back of the hall that was reserved for the staff. Hermione ducked her head and irrationally prayed that no one was watching them flee.

Professor Snape continued to pull her down a dark hallway that Hermione had never traversed in all her years at Hogwarts, and she felt herself running slightly to keep up. Finally, he stopped, opened a door on their right and escorted her inside before shutting the door behind them. A quick flick of his wand illuminated the torches along the wall and with another flick a fire began to burn in the hearth, all of which gave the formerly dark room a warm, rosy glow.

'Now, explain that,' Snape said without preamble and a gesture of his hands.

'I don't really know where to begin, sir.'

He narrowed his eyes. 'You can start by removing those ridiculous gloves, Miss Granger. You do realise that even wearing them drew attention to you, and once the writing burned through it was even more noticeable. Not to mention the fact that even in the Muggle world, when those sorts of gloves are worn at formal occasions, women do remove the gloves before eating a meal.'

It wasn't until he spoke the last words that her cheeks flamed. She hadn't thought that anyone would notice her little faux pas. 'And I suppose that you would've thought that it was better if I'd not worn the gloves at all?'

'No, it would have been preferable if there had been no reason for you to need to cover up your hands to begin with!'

As his voice grew louder with each syllable, Hermione sucked her lower lip into her mouth with her teeth and began to bite on it in an effort to fight the slight quivering that had begun of that same lip. She refused to cry in front of him; especially over something so incredibly stupid.

And as he watched her struggle to tamp down her emotions, his scowl grew.

'I'm sorry,' she said lamely.

He responded with a derisive snort.

When he said nothing else, Hermione took a deep breath and peeled off the long gloves. And there it was: his name, clearly written on her hands. Each word was decorated with little hearts in various colours, from blue to green to purple to pink.

The only thing she could even think of to say was to utter another apology, but before she could say it, Hermione felt him tug at one of her hands.

'What is this?' he asked with something that she could almost swear was concern.

'I believe that's rather evident, sir.'

'No. What did you do to your hand here?' he asked as he brushed his thumb along a particularly tender part of her skin and Hermione winced.

'I tried to wash it off.'

'With what, Miss Granger? A steel brush?'

'It wouldn't come off,' she all but whispered, feeling even more humiliated.

He dropped her hand and looked directly into her eyes and she suddenly remembered that he was a skilled Legilimens. With effort, she began focussing on her Occlumency barriers in an effort to keep him out. Or, if nothing else, to show him that she truly wanted to block him and hope that he stopped trying to invade her mind. Unlikely, to be true, but still it was worth the effort.

'How did the writing appear on the back of your hand?' he asked softly, almost gently, as she felt him retreat from her mind.

'It was a spell.'

'That much is obvious. Which spell?' His eyes narrowed. 'Would this have anything to do with your trek up to the Astronomy Tower last night?'

'How did you know about that?' she asked.

'I believe that I mentioned that I knew of your trip with your little friends last night when I assigned your detention.'

Oh, yes, that's right. He had. Hermione's eyes darted around the room, as she noted the bookshelves, a long table and several chairs. She ran her fingers along the cold mahogany of the smooth table. This was similar to the teachers' lounge, though this room was not one that she'd ever been in. Perhaps this was where the teachers came when they didn't want to be alone in their quarters, but they didn't want the students to find them either...

'I'm growing impatient, Miss Granger,' he said, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned her eyes back to him and noted that his scowl had deepened, if that were even possible. Where should she begin? With the way she'd been tricked and coerced by her friends? Or maybe blaming them wouldn't be prudent. Perhaps if she took on the blame herself...well, at least the blame that truly belonged to her. She had, after all, unlocked the door to the Astronomy Tower, and she had chosen to stay. 'I don't really know the spell, Professor,' she finally said.

'My, my, my. It appears that you are not as intelligent as you try to present yourself to be.' He slowly began to pace in front of her. 'A spell that Miss Granger isn't familiar with, and yet she still performed it,' he said in a tone heavily laden with accusation.

'Well, yes, I mean... I didn't actually perform it, Lavender did, but it turns out that she made it up and now...'

He whirled around and took two steps towards her so that he was now towering over her. 'You were party to the implementation of an experimental spell? For fuck's sake, Miss Granger, even I thought that you had more sense than that!'

'Well, I didn't know it was experimental, when I took part!' she yelled back.

'Ten points, Miss Granger, for your disrespect and yelling at a teacher.'

Her rising temper quickly cooled in response to his remark. No matter what, she still respected him and despite everything he was still her professor. 'I'm sorry, sir.'

'So you've said.'

He took a step back and Hermione suddenly felt herself relax slightly. She backed herself up against the table and leaned against the edge of it for comfort, placing her hands on either side of her for support.

'Just let me say it all without interrupting, please, sir.'

She took his silence for acquiescence and, after a deep breath, she allowed the words to fall from her lips. The explanation came out in a long rambling string and it wasn't until she finished that she realised she was a bit out of breath. Without once looking at him, she'd told him nearly everything, from the way she'd been tricked into going to the Tower to the fact that Lavender had said that Hermione was the only one with hearts on the back of her hands. She'd even mentioned that most embarrassing part about Parvati saying that the writing would go away if she snogged him senseless. Hermione poured it all out in the open for him. When she was done, she felt emotionally spent and sat down heavily in one of the hard wooden chairs positioned around the table. Placing her head in her hands, she silently awaited his tirade.

It didn't come.

When at long last, she lifted her head from the cradle of her hands, she looked up to find that the door was left open and her professor was nowhere to be seen.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione didn't know how long she sat at the table, staring at the open door. It took her longer than she cared to admit for her emotional state to shift. It was odd to even admit that she had felt... rejected. After all, why else would he have left? Not that she could blame him for being so utterly disgusted with the very idea. If Lavender was correct, than some small part of Hermione's brain thought of him as her true love... or maybe it was a piece of her soul that felt that.

Determined to ignore that line of thought, she went back to pondering Snape's reaction. She'd expected him to scream, shout and deduct a slew of points from her house. She had anticipated he would use every piece of weaponry in his arsenal to degrade her in any way that he could. Those things she had been prepared for. She'd seen him act that way many times before.

But tonight, he hadn't reacted to her at all. He'd simply disappeared. Without so much as an "excuse me, I must be going." As if she were simply a piece of furniture.

And that was when the anger began to settle in. It was more than over a simple rejection from him, which logically she knew that she shouldn't worry about. It was anger that he chose to ignore the fact that she'd just revealed something so personal and he didn't even care enough about it to get angry himself. Shouldn't he, at the very least, be concerned about his own reputation? It certainly didn't bode well if the Gryffindor Know-it-All was walking around the halls with his name scrolled on her hands for all to see. Well, maybe that just didn't bode well for her.

Except there was also the fact that most people hadn't seen the writing yet and it was unlikely that she'd be able to hide it anymore. Not to mention the fact that the entire fifth, sixth and seventh year forms saw her dance the first dance at the Valentine's Day Ball with him. And after that, she was certain that someone witnessed Professor Snape drag her out one of the staffroom doors. Because even though she hadn't noticed any eyes upon them at the time, if even one person caught a glimpse, Hermione knew that the rumours would be flying about the school by tomorrow morning...at the very latest.

With what seemed like a monumental effort, Hermione stood from the chair and, after grabbing her discarded gloves, left the room to wander the halls.

She had no idea where she was going or what she had planned to do. If she had her wish, she'd go to her room and hide in there, but that wouldn't solve anything. And it was as she thought that very thing that she realised that was the reason she was the most upset with Professor Snape.

He hadn't fixed anything for her.

Had she truly grown to rely on him that much? Severus Snape had always been there; always behind the shadows protecting Harry and...as a result...protecting Ron and Hermione as well. Then, at the height of the war he had risked everything for them, everything for the Order and everything for... her.

He'd saved her life. Not that she ever spoke of it to anyone, nor did she try to think about it, but he had. It had been in a roundabout way. Snape had distracted Bellatrix Lestrange at just the right time to allow Hermione a chance to escape from the older witch's line of fire. As Hermione had glanced back at them while she'd scurried behind the bushes, she'd spied Snape watching her with a glimmer of concern. Then, at Bella's indignant response for his distraction which allowed Hermione to escape, he'd given her the task which ultimately led to her death.

He'd sent Bellatrix after Neville.

Neville Longbottom had been fighting alongside Remus Lupin and, before the full-scale battle had begun, Neville had quietly asked Professor Snape to lead Bellatrix Lestrange in their direction. Snape had used the opportunity and handed the prized bitch over to them. It sounded downright evil, even in Hermione's own head, to think that Neville was out for such cold revenge, but he'd never intended on killing the woman. He wanted her caught and sent back to a Ministry-controlled Azkaban. Hermione never asked for the details, but in the end, Neville had been forced to kill Bellatrix in order to save his own life.

'Hermione?'

She turned around and watched as Susan Bones approached her, with a cautious smile on her face.

'I just wanted to...' The red-haired witch sighed. 'Apologise, Hermione. We never should've tricked you into unlocking the door last night or coerced you to participate.'

Hermione had already forgiven her. Susan, Hannah and Padma, all three girls had been on friendly terms with Hermione before and she figured that they had been persuaded much the same way that she was. It had been Lavender and Parvati who had a habit of teasing Hermione and didn't always get along with her.

She cocked her head and pursed her lips. 'Why did you, Susan? I mean, why did you join in with Lavender's little scheme. That's not something that you'd usually do.'

Susan walked in front of Hermione to one of the windows and leaned her forehead against the glass. After another moment, Hermione joined her and slowly began to feel at peace as she too rested her head against the cold pane and stared out at the snow-covered grounds.

'Do you see that down there?' Susan asked.

Hermione lifted her head and looked in the direction that the other witch was pointing. 'The rose garden?'

'Yes.'

Hermione waited for Susan to elaborate. It was just a rose garden. It didn't look any different now than it did on any other day.

'The rose garden. Every girl I know had their first kiss either in the rose garden or up on the Astronomy Tower,' Susan continued with her voice soft and almost dreamy, as if she were revealing a secret wish. 'And when I overheard Lavender and Parvati as they spoke with Padma in the library yesterday afternoon, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to have that first kiss.'

'And Neville? Did you always have feelings for him?'

Susan looked at her, and even in the shadows Hermione could see the blush rise in the other girl's cheeks as she nodded. 'A bit. I mean, I haven't been doodling "SB + NL" on my parchment or anything. But after You-Know-Who fell, I began to admire Neville for everything that he did.'

Hermione hadn't realised it when she'd asked the question, but Susan's answers caused her to think again about the facets of the spell that Lavender had performed. 'So, just out of curiosity, were you thinking about Neville when Lavender cast the spell?'

The Hufflepuff shook her head. 'No.'

'What were you thinking about?'

Susan placed her palm against the glass and then, again, moved her forehead to rest on the cold pane. 'I was thinking about how much I wanted to have that first kiss with someone who truly loved me and who I could love in return.'

Hermione's heart ached at that. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and console Susan, and as she moved to do just that, she let out a small gasp.

'What?'

'Susan, when did these hearts appear?' Hermione asked, taking the other girl's hand.

'Oh, those. When I was dancing with him earlier.'

'Him? As in Neville?' Hermione asked, as if she'd finally had some sort of breakthrough.

Susan moved away from the window and nodded.

'Have you kissed him yet?'

'No. I want to; I'm just not sure...'

'According to Parvati and Lavender, that is how to get the name off of our hands.'

'That's what I heard,' she said wistfully.

'How did Neville take the news?' Hermione pressed.

Susan ducked her head shyly. 'I think he was pleased. I told him how guilty I felt about this entire thing and how we'd dragged you into it as well. He is actually the one who sent me along to find you.'

'Really? That's very sweet, Susan. Thank you.'

'I truly am sorry, Hermione.'

'I forgive you. It wasn't your fault. I never blamed you to begin with and even now, the only person who I can really point a finger at is me. I never should've allowed myself to be conned into something like this.'

'How did Snape...'

Susan's voice had trailed off, but Hermione could easily fill in the blanks herself. 'I don't think he was very pleased.'

'No, I don't suppose so.'

Hermione heard a loud cough from behind her and she turned to see Neville standing there with an awkward grin. She returned the smile and then looked back at Susan who no longer seemed to be paying any attention to her.

'Well, then, I think that I'll just let you two get on with,' she waved her hand between them, 'whatever it is that you two plan to do.' Hermione didn't even think that they heard her as she quietly slipped out of the way while Neville's and Susan's eyes remained locked on one another.

She briefly wondered if they would make it all the way to the rose garden before they started kissing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was late now. Hermione didn't have a watch, but it had been quite some time since she'd seen Neville and Susan. While she had walked along the halls, she'd found many snogging teenagers; including Lavender and Stephen, who were currently quite cosy in an alcove on the sixth floor.

At least Lavender would have Stephen's name erased from her hands.

Hermione began to rub her own hands and finally decided that it was time to head back to her room. With any luck, the curse would only last through midnight tonight and her hands would not be marred by the time she awoke in the morning. She took the stairs back down to the fifth floor and began walking down the corridor towards the portrait of the Fat Lady when someone grabbed her and pulled her into an unused classroom.

Hermione let out a small yelp as she was pulled through the door. Her heart racing, she turned around to face her abductor only to find herself once again staring into the inky black depths of her Potions professor's eyes. She jumped again as the door slammed behind her.

'What do you think you're doing?' she hissed. 'You scared the living daylights out of me!'

'I am still your teacher, Miss Granger.'

Hermione snorted. 'Funny, Professor, I can't think of a single reason why one of my teachers would feel the need to abduct me from the hallway and lock me in a dusty, old room.'

Professor Snape made a face that clearly showed his revulsion as he raised his wand, flicking it at the door. 'There, you are no longer a captive. However, why in the name of Merlin you'd want to risk anyone walking in on us right now, I'll never know.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'What are you talking about? You obviously have nothing to say to me. You had your opportunity and you walked out on me!'

He raised his wand for a third time and cast yet another spell before he shouted, 'For fuck's sake, woman! Do you really want all of your Gryffindor friends to hear you? Or is it that you relish the idea of one of them walking in here while I kiss you?'

What? she thought, feeling suddenly bewildered.

The confusion must have shown on her face, for she never voiced her question before he continued. 'Though I want it made clear, Miss Granger, that you are to never speak of this again. You are not to spread rumours amongst your fellow classmates nor are you to even tell them how you cured this blasted curse. I have spent the last three hours trying to decide which I loathed more, the idea of having my name scrolled all over your hands for everyone to see and ridicule, or the thought of you spreading tales about me to all of your little friends.' His lips frowned in disgust. 'Are we clear?'

Eyes wide and her anger suddenly gone, Hermione nodded slowly, though she found that she was unable to say a word.

And as if her simple nod were permission, he flicked his wand again and Hermione heard the door once again lock with a click. And then he moved towards her.

Hermione had expected his lips to descend upon hers and then depart just as quickly. She held her breath in a mixture of fear, trepidation and anticipation, as she did little more than stare at him. His thin, lithe frame towered over her, though she felt that she was no longer intimidated by his size. She tried to look at his face to read his expression as she felt him reach out and grasp her hands, but she found that she could not pull her eyes away from his.

She barely remembered to breathe as she felt his thumbs gently brush the backs of her hands. Then, bringing them up to his mouth, he kissed the writing on each hand softly, closing his eyes as he did so.

Hermione had to fight to hold back the squeak that was wanting to erupt from her throat. Professor Snape pulled her closer to him and moved his hands to her back. In turn, she gripped him around his neck, inhaling the scents of the shaving potion that she'd smelled earlier as he slowly lowered his head towards her. It seemed to take a lifetime for their lips to meet, but when at last they did, Hermione sensed the tingling sensation from the contact through every nerve of her body and immediately felt herself melting into him while her hands began to tangle in his fine hair.

This time she couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped from her throat as his tongue tasted her lips and sought entrance. His hands moved from her hips to firmly cup her arse and then slowly up her back as he pulled her tighter against his body. And then she truly became lost, in the soft, gentleness of his kisses combined with his demanding tongue and his hands that began to roam and explore her clothed body.

At long last, they finally broke apart and Hermione noted the slight flush of his cheeks as he removed one of his hands from her breast and the other from the nape of her neck. She was certain that her own cheeks outmatched him in redness the moment she realised that she was slightly grinding her hips against the now obvious bulge in his trousers.

She took a step back. 'I...I'm sorry, Professor,' she stammered.

He once again bore his serious, hateful mask and barely nodded as he said, 'I believe that the exact word you used was "senseless" and I think that has been accomplished. Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Granger...'

And without another word, he moved past her, unlocked the door and, for the second time that night, left her alone with her highly emotional and confused thoughts.