It wasn't something she particularly looked forward to. She was quite sure no one did, really. It was nice to see some old familiar faces, she had to admit, but she wished it could have been under happier circumstances. The second of May, for the past several years, had become a Wizarding day of memorial. A ceremony was held each year at Hogwarts to commemorate the day Harry Potter had finally defeated Voldemort, and also to remember the heroes who had lost their lives that day.

Hermione Granger's chest felt tight, as it usually did when she was forced to think back on those bleak months on the run. Even at twenty-five years old, years removed from that period of time in her life, there were still moments when the memories of it all made it difficult to breathe.

"Get a grip, Hermione," she scolded her reflection, as she attempted in vain to charm her wild nest of brown hair, and somewhat successfully added some makeup to her face.

A fleeting thought of perhaps skipping the event this year ran through her head. Then quickly she reminded herself since she was a part of the Golden Trio — she rolled her eyes — as they were dubbed after the war, and a Ministry employee, she really couldn't skive off, like it was a mere Transfiguration lesson.

Besides, there were some people she had been hoping to see. Well, people may have been a bit of a stretch. There was a certain person she was hoping would be there.

She couldn't explain it, but there had been some budding feelings for this man that had developed heavily over the last few years. Why? She had no idea. But, since she now had a predominant position in Magical Law, there were multiple occasions in which she requested his assistance at the Ministry, forcing them to work together every so often. It was normally when there was some sort of tainted potion that needed ingredients identified, or a new brew of poison that would crop up for nefarious reasons, an owl would be sent to Hogwarts requesting to borrow their Potions Master.

Severus Snape was not what would be described as a pleasant man, not by anyone's definition of the word. After the war, he spent many weeks in recovery at St. Mungo's, due to the attack from Nagini, and after he was released, he had become somewhat of a recluse. Besides his lessons at Hogwarts, he wasn't much seen nor heard from. However, when Hermione first reluctantly admitted she needed help with a confiscated potion that was being investigated, she swallowed her pride and contacted her former professor. At first he was downright hostile towards the idea of working closely with Hermione, and the two of them had butted heads on more occasions than she could have counted. Multiple times she wondered why she contacted him to begin with, and even more so wondered why he agreed. But over time things began to change.

She changed after the war. She became less argumentative, realizing that life was too short to spend time correcting everyone. She listened more, instead of her old habit of talking at people. She looked at constructive criticism as learning experiences, instead of personal attacks. In other words, she matured.

A mutual respect budded between Hermione and Severus, and that mutual respect eventually blossomed into somewhat of a friendship, or at the very least a decent working relationship. Occasionally, when they had worked together, they would grab drinks and some food at The Leaky Cauldron after a late shift. Those were the moments when she began to fall for Severus Snape.

She started to learn things about him, like how he had an exceptionally dry and sarcastic sense of humor. It was then when she realized that times in which she thought he was insulting her, he was actually teasing her. It was subtle, but she noticed the slight upturn of his lips when he would call her things such as, "insufferable."

Then there were other things she began to observe about him. Like the way his eyes weren't black, as they seemed when she was younger, but in the light they were the color of dark chocolate, rich and deep, and honestly quite beautiful. His voice, once you got him on a topic he was particularly knowledgeable or passionate about, flowed smooth like honey, and did things to her insides that she never quite felt before. His fingers, although calloused from years of brewing, were long and elegant, and there were moments when she couldn't take her eyes from them, and imagined how they would feel ghosting across her skin.

Obviously he was brilliant, that was common knowledge. And when the two of them got into deep academic or political discussions, she would nearly become short of breath from the thrill of conversing with someone so knowledgeable.

Of course it wasn't always cordial between Hermione and Severus. There were many times when their personalities would inevitably clash, and a screaming match would erupt, normally ending with her yelling that he was a, "miserable bastard," and Severus stalking out murmuring about how she was an, "impertinent chit." Several times when they had come face to face during an row, she would become torn between either throttling the man, or snogging him silly. Never before had anyone brought out such raw passion in her.

Hermione felt her face and chest flush, recalling her memories of Severus, and brought herself back into the present. It would not do for her to be panting after him like some silly school girl when they hopefully met at the Memorial.

She took one last look in the mirror before it was time to leave. Hermione supposed she looked decent enough. A simple black shift dress, her mother's pearls, and a pair of low black heels. Her hair was pulled up in a bun at the crown of her head, with several ringlets of hair framing her face.

Hermione sighed at her reflection. No matter how much she tried, she never felt she truly looked adult. She always felt as if she were an imposter in the grownup world. She wasn't sexy, or elegant. Cute — her lip curled in disgust — was always the adjective thrown at her. Hermione hated it. Babies were cute, not women in their twenties. It wasn't often that she was bothered by what others had said about her looks, but… considering who she was about to see, it irritated her.

When she appeared in Hogsmead it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. It was overcast and gloomy at her little flat in Diagon Alley, but the Wizarding Village in Scotland was bright and sunny, just as it was the morning when Voldemort was brought down by his own rebounding curse. It was like the weather was cruelly trying to replicate that day, to give them all one more reminder of the war. She would have preferred rain.

As Hermione began her walk towards the castle, she nodded hello to a few witches and wizards she recognized from the Ministry, and stopped and had a brief chat with Oliver Wood and Katie Bell, who she noticed were holding hands. Good for them, she thought happily, thinking they would have made a lovely couple. Not many people would have been able to put up with the incessant Quidditch talk that always came from Oliver, but since Katie played and was an avid fan as well, she was well equipped to handle it.

Waiting at the gates, like they promised they would, were her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They were both dressed in modest black dress robes, and poor Harry was fidgeting with his hair in a futile attempt to flatten it. Ron was beaming at her, and she felt that pit in her stomach knowing that he never truly had gotten over their breakup. No matter how many times she had told him differently, he was still convinced that one day they would find their way back to one another.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked as she approached.

Hermione hugged her best friends, then pulled back looking behind them. She frowned.

"Where's Ginny?" she asked.

"James has a cold," he said. "So she's home looking after him."

"Aww, that's too bad," said Hermione. "I hope he feels better soon."

Ron snorted.

"Damn lucky she got out of this shit."

Harry cracked a smile.

"I offered to stay with James, but…"

"Considering you're the great Harry Potter, you lost that argument," Ron finished for him, with a clap on the back.

Hermione laughed.

"No, there's no getting out of this for you, unfortunately," she said.

Harry rolled his eyes, before turning towards the crowd who had gathered near the War Memorial Wall next to Dumbledore's resting place.

"No. No there's not," he agreed quietly.

Hermione scanned the sea of witches and wizards, searching for the only one she actually wanted to see. It had been nearly three months since she required Severus' assistance at work, and nearly as long since she'd last seen him. They still corresponded, as she had taken to sending him weekly owls. Writing wasn't the same. Where she was very long winded when she wrote, Severus' responses were all concise and to the point. Although, she was pleased that he wrote to her at all. She never really expected a response the first time she wrote, so when the large barn owl from Hogwarts tapped at her window that first evening, she felt a little flutter in her chest.

She was abruptly taken out of her thoughts when a bulb flashed not even two feet in front of her face, nearly blinding her.

"For goodness sake!" she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes.

"Do you mind, mate?" Ron growled.

Even after nearly a decade had passed, she, Harry and Ron were still a very hot item for The Prophet, and Wizarding tabloids. The three of them could hardly be anywhere together without cameras or reporters in their faces.

"Come on," said Harry, while shooting an angry glare at the photographer. "Let's go find Hagrid."

She heard a few more clicks of the camera as they stormed away, and she huffed loudly.

"Do you think it'll ever end?" she asked the boys.

"Fucking hope so," said Ron. "I can barely take a shi—"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded.

Harry covered his laugh with a cough.

"It's good to be all together again, have I said that?" joked Harry, with a small smirk.

Hermione couldn't help but to laugh. It did seem as if some things would never change when the three of them were together. Ron was as crass as always, Hermione's patience for him was nearly nonexistent, and Harry would try to keep peace between them. Regardless of the murky history between her and Ron, it did feel like somewhat of a homecoming when she was with her boys.

She, Harry and Ron spotted Hagrid in the crowd, which wasn't exactly a difficult feat, considering he towered over everyone, like a grand fir in a field of silver birch trees.

When he spotted his three favorite students to have ever walked the corridors of Hogwarts, he waved them over, nearly decapitating a portly wizard who had the misfortune of standing too close.

"There yeh are," he said, instead of a greeting once they approached.

"Hi, Hagrid," they said in unison, then laughed.

Obviously she and Ron were aware that Harry was Hagrid's favorite, so neither were offended — and she was sure they were both feeling a little relieved — when Hagrid chose Harry to give a bone crushing hug.

They stood with the Hogwarts Gamekeeper for quite some time, catching up on how baby James was doing, how work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was going for Ron, and how Hermione was enjoying her new promotion in the Magical Law department at the Ministry.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the black clad figure of Severus Snape, and a frown tugged at her lips when she couldn't find him. The ceremony was due to begin in minutes, she hoped that he hadn't chosen to skip it. Although, she wouldn't have been surprised if he did. Not just due to the fact that he barely left the castle, but also because he still didn't have many fans in the Wizarding World. Regardless of what had come out after the war, killing Albus Dumbledore didn't grant him much favor within the community as a whole. There were those who were convinced he had Harry, and by extension the Ministry, fooled into believing his innocence. There were many who believed he should have been rotting away in Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters who had survived and been brought to justice. Hermione believed none of that nonsense, and had actually gotten into quite a few heated arguments with people defending Severus' innocence. If he knew that or not, she didn't know. Actually, she preferred if he didn't.

Soon the crowd was seated in rows of white covered seats, reminiscent of Dumbledore's funeral. Several Ministry officials gave speeches about hope, and togetherness, and overcoming evil. A load of bollocks as far as she was concerned. Some of those very people were ones demanding her, Harry and Ron's heads while they were on the run.

"Hypocrites, the lot of them," Harry hissed in her ear.

Hermione nodded in agreement as she continued to watch through narrowed eyes.

After what felt like hours, Minister Kingsley took the podium. His voice was deep and somber, as he did the yearly tradition of reading the names of the deceased.

Each former classmate, or former friend's named called out was always like a fresh stab to the heart. But, there were some that stung to hear, even to this day, more than others.

"Lupin, Nymphadora. Lupin, Remus John…"

Tears formed, clouding her vision, as she reached over and gave Harry's arm a gentle squeeze. It still bloody hurt, losing Remus and Tonks. She turned around hearing a sniffle behind her, to see Andromeda Tonks wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

More names were called, until the most painful one for her to hear came up.

"Weasley, Frederick…"

The tears were freely falling now. She placed her other hand on top of Ron's, as he sat also with tears silently falling.

She began looking around for some sort of distraction. It was too much. Hearing each name of each person she had lost was just too damn much. She'd spent many, many months haunted by their deaths every night when she slept. She didn't need some overblown gathering to remember their names.

Hermione spotted the student section, there were no lessons on the second of May, and she did not recognize a single face in attendance. True, the Seventh Years were First Years when the Battle occurred, but since she was on the run that entire year, she had never met any of them. She wondered what it would have been like, if not for Voldemort. If she would have been Head Girl that year, and would have given that group of Gryffindors their first tour of the castle, on their way to Gryffindor Tower after the welcoming feast.

Suddenly, she noticed the black frock coat. Severus sat behind the rows of students. Of course he would be supervising, making sure none of them were disrespectful during the event. Her heart skipped a beat when they locked eyes. Hermione offered a small smile, which was returned with a minute nod of Severus' head.

Strange. She felt better. More… comforted, just knowing that he was there. His presence was like a security blanket, making her feel safe and warm.

Kingsley ended his speech calling for a moment of silence, after which Professor McGonagall invited everyone for refreshments near the Greenhouses. There were far too many people to use The Great Hall, so this was normally done out on the grounds. This was the part she dreaded. The conversations and questions about her time and role in the war. Did people not realize that she was tired of reliving it?

"Glad that's over," said Ron, with his eyes red around the edges, and still glistening from his tears. "I haven't eaten yet today."

Normally, Hermione would have rolled her eyes at Ron stating that he was hungry. But not today. Hermione understood. She never seemed to work up an appetite before this function either.

"Come on," she said, grabbing each of them by the wrist. "Maybe if we hurry, we won't be bombarded again this year."

That was wishful thinking, she realized, before they even made it to the Greenhouses. At least twenty different people requested pictures with the trio, and another dozen more stopped them for autographs.

"Just one day. One effing day I would like to be normal," Harry grumbled after the final pair of wizards walked away.

It wasn't quite as bad for Hermione or Ron as it had been for Harry, but she knew exactly what he meant.

Finally they made their way to the tables of sandwiches and an assortment of drinks. Hermione wanted tea more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, she was parched. Well, that and some quiet would have been more than welcomed. Again, it seemed luck was not on her side. A group of what she assumed to be third years swarmed her, while Ron and Harry were taken over by a group of first years, rapidly firing questions about living in a tent for nearly a year.

"And is it true you had nothing to eat most nights but mushrooms?"

"Did Harry Potter and Ron Weasley really almost kill each other over you?"

"You really fought his snake in Godric's Hollow?"

"—and then the sword was on the bottom of the lake?"

Hermione was becoming overwhelmed as the memories of that time flashed before her eyes. Their voices began sounding quieter, as the ringing in her ears grew louder. Her body went cold. Her breathing became labored. She was slipping into a panic attack.

"I — Well no, that wasn't — I'm not sure what —" she stammered, trying to answer them all, while fighting off the crescendoing anxiety.

Suddenly, the small crowd of teenagers went deadly silent. It wasn't long before she realized why.

"That is enough," said Severus barely above a whisper, but with more power in his voice than if he shouted it. "I am sure Miss Granger has better things to do, rather than enduring the incessant, mindless ramblings from you all. Go. Now. Before I begin taking points."

She stiffened. She was grateful, but she also didn't want Severus to see her in this state.

It seemed the students needn't have been told twice. They scattered like roaches when a light turned on.

Once they left, she felt his hand wrap around her bicep, gently coaxing her to face him.

"Granger, are you alright?" he asked, sounding more concerned for her than she ever remembered.

Physical touch seemed to ground her. The buzzing began to fade, and she felt the warmth return to her body slowly. She tilted her head up, to see him better, and noticed his brow was knitted with worry.

"It's all a bit much at times, Severus," she admitted quietly. "I know it's silly, it's been years, but…"

Severus nodded, as if he understood, then seemed to remember they were in a crowd of people, as he removed his hand from her arm like it had burned him. She tried to hide the hurt on her face, but knew she hadn't succeeded.

"It is not silly, Granger. You have seen horrors those… children." It appeared he wanted to use a different word, before settling on children. "Could scarcely imagine. To them, the stories are just that, stories. They were toddlers during the war. Most likely with no memories of what it was like. Not even in their worst nightmares could they imagine what you have been through."

Hermione fiddled with her necklace. She grew uncomfortable under the intensity of his stare, and the sincerity of his words. He didn't normally offer sincere sentiments freely.

His rare kindness emboldened her.

"Can we… I mean, do you want to…" she hesitated. "Could we possibly go somewhere quiet? I - I need to get away for a few moments, Severus."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes. Yes, she truly did want to get away from the massive crowd, but she also wanted to be alone with him. It had been so long.

Severus didn't respond immediately. He seemed to be mulling it over, as his eyes glanced over the sea of people.

"I… imagine I would not be missed if I were to slip away briefly."

Hermione full out beamed.

"If you have anything stronger than tea to offer, that wouldn't go amiss," she said with a smile.

Severus huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Insufferable as always," he said under his breath, before turning and making his way towards the castle.

Hermione sped off after him, not noticing the dropped jaw on Ron, or the quirk of Harry's eyebrow as they watched her go.

The buzz of conversation grew softer, until it was finally gone when they reached an entrance to the school. She was slightly out of breath, and still several paces behind Severus.

"Wait - Wait for me, p-please," she huffed. "My legs aren't as long as yours!"

Severus turned abruptly, and a ghost of a smile played on his lips as his eyes wandered to her bare legs.

"Debatable," he surprised her by saying. "Nevertheless, hurry up, Granger."

She felt the blush creep across her face, before she jogged a few more steps, and entered Hogwarts side by side with Severus.

"I suppose I owe you a thank you," he told her.

"For what, may I ask?"

He looked down at her from the side of his eye.

"For providing me with an excuse to leave early. Not that I normally give an excuse, but it is appreciated nonetheless."

Hermione chuckled. "I suppose I owe you a thank you for the very same reason."

She didn't know what came over her, but she bumped her side into him playfully as they walked.

"Erm… you're welcome, Granger," he responded gruffly.

There it was again. Granger. He freely allowed her to use his given name, but for whatever reason he had not taken her up on the same offer. She supposed it was a step up from Miss Granger, as he insistently called her up until two years prior, when she finally put her foot down.

They were walking for quite some time, and it dawned on Hermione that she had no clue what their destination was.

"Severus?" she asked. This wasn't the first time she noticed a slight twitch of his lips when she said his name. "Where are we going?"

He took a turn, and began taking the steps down towards the dungeons.

"You were looking for something a bit stronger than tea, correct?"

She nodded.

"I believe that can be provided in my personal chambers," he said, and she could have sworn she saw him smirk.

Merlin's beard… Severus' personal rooms? She imagined this more times than she cared to admit, even to herself. But, now that her daydreams were becoming reality, she didn't know how to respond.

"Oh…" was all she'd managed.

"Of course if you'd rather go elsewhere?" he asked, sounding like he was genuinely giving her the option to decline.

"No!" Hermione didn't mean to shout. Her face burned bright red again. "No, that would be perfectly fine," she said as calmly as she could manage.

He cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing as he led her to his rooms.

They arrived at his office, which she had only been in one other time, second year, when she had stolen — borrowed, she amended in her head, the ingredients needed for the Polyjuice Potion. It honestly did not surprise her to see that it had hardly changed in the thirteen years since she had last seen it. It was dark, only lit by a handful of sconces, the walls were shelved with books and many jars of what appeared to be bugs and animal parts. His desk was at the head of the room, covered with more books and a pile of papers she assumed were assignments to be graded. She wrinkled her nose. The room had a peculiar odor, not unlike formaldehyde, but somehow more sour. A small part of her hoped his living area wasn't similar.

"No, Granger, I assure you I don't live like this," he said, taking her off guard.

How could he have known, she wondered? Ah, of course.

"Were you reading my thoughts?" Hermione snapped.

He had never done it before, as far as she knew, and she would have liked to have kept it that way. Lest he see her true feelings for him.

Severus let out a low chuckle.

"No, you silly witch, I assure you I was not."

She raised her eyebrows, not quite believing him.

"You've never been very good at keeping your true thoughts, or feelings off of your face," he told her with a light shrug. "And your question just confirmed my suspicion of what you must have been thinking."

Or feelings… Merlin, did he suspect?

He laughed again quietly at her stunned expression, then walked to a door in the back corner of his office. He took his wand out from hiding inside of his sleeve, and began waving it in intricate patterns, most likely undoing the protective charms and locking enchantments. She heard three distinct clicks, and the door opened.

"After you, Granger."

He stood aside to let her pass, and the reality of being entirely alone in his personal chambers began to crash over her. Her pulse kicked into overdrive as she thanked him, and stepped through the door.

Thankfully he was not lying when he said he did not live in the same environment as his office. For being in the dungeons of the castle, his living quarters were surprisingly cozy. There was a spacious living area, with a fairly large black sofa in the middle of the room. An unlit stone fireplace sat in front of it, which she imagined must have kept it quite warm during the cold months. The floors were also stone, save for the grey area rug in which the sofa, and table in front of it sat upon. The rug looked thick enough to rest comfortably upon, if one should find themselves in such a state of falling asleep on the floor. Behind the sofa was what appeared to be a kitchen area of sorts. There was a small round table with two chairs, a sink, a miniature icebox, a stove, and three wooden cabinets above the sink. It wasn't much, but with the Hogwarts kitchen at your disposal, a large kitchen of your own wouldn't have been a necessity.

There was one other door, besides the one they had come through, across the room opposite of where she stood. The bedroom, she assumed. Two cabinets stood on either side of the door. Overall, it was nice. She didn't exactly know what she expected, perhaps something more gothic, or more… dungeony. But this seemed as if it could have easily been a normal flat. If this was the norm for the professors of the school, they had much more comfort than the students, and that was saying something.

"This is nice, Severus." She hadn't been able to keep the small amount of shock out of her voice.

He snorted. "Were you expecting chains on the walls? Torches and a coffin, perhaps?"

Hermione laughed. There was a rumor once that Severus was a vampire.

"Something like that," she joked.

Severus shook his head, and began unbuttoning his coat.

"Please," he said, as his hands continued to work at the buttons. "Make yourself comfortable." He nodded his head towards the sofa.

Hermione swallowed hard. She'd never seen him without that coat before. He'd never taken it off, not one time in all the occasions they'd worked together, or had gone for food afterwards. For a moment, she couldn't stop staring at him undressing.

"You may sit on the sofa if you'd like, Granger," he said slowly, as if she had lost her mental faculties.

"Oh! Yes. Right. Erm… of course!"

She hurried to take a seat, and nearly tripped on the leg of the sofa in her haste. As if she needed another way to embarrass herself that afternoon.

When she looked back up at him, her bottom lip instinctually found its way between her teeth. Severus stood near a coat rack wearing a white button down. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing more of his skin than she had ever seen. He looked so very normal, compared to his imposing teaching persona, and also, so very handsome.

The shirt, along with his long curtains of black hair, reminded her of someone out of a Victorian romance novel. Not that he was classically handsome, like the absurd characters drawn onto the covers of those books. It was true, his nose was rather large, and from what looked like years of smoking, as the box on the table before had proved, did a number on his teeth, but those things didn't matter to her. There was something about him that she had grown to find monumentally attractive. The contrast of his raven black hair, with his ghostly white skin was striking. The confidence, brilliance, and power that he radiated had drawn her in like a moth to a flame. And his voice. Just the sound alone of his smooth baritone was enough to make her knees go weak. No, he wasn't what most women would have wanted, but Severus Snape was who she wanted.

When he turned back towards her, she noticed that the thick pink lines on his neck were more visible without the high collar obstructing most of his scars. They were rather jarring, considering she believed to have watched the man die from the very attack which marred him in that way forever.

Severus must have realized she was staring. He reached up and rubbed his neck, turning his eyes to the ground.

"Oh Severus, I didn't mean to stare," she said softly. "I just haven't seen since…" she trailed off.

You were attacked. The words were left unsaid, but hung in the air as clearly as if she had spoken them.

"No one has," he said.

How strange, she thought. Surely there must have been follow up appointments with the Healers? Or perhaps, she was saddened at the thought, a woman within the last few years?

Severus shook his head. "You're the first one, Granger."

She was finding it difficult to believe that he wasn't reading her mind. Her eyes narrowed.

"You scrunch your nose when you're trying to work out something," he explained.

Hermione was surprised, and truthfully a little flattered, that he had studied her so closely. However, he did spend many years as a spy. Perhaps picking up on people's ticks and tells was something he would never quite grow out of.

Severus sat beside her, leaving a body's width between them. He took out his wand and aimed it at the cabinets near his bedroom door. Two glasses sored across the room, and landed on the table in front of them.

"Exactly how much stronger than tea did you require?" he asked.

She knew she had to be careful. Hermione didn't exactly have the best reputation for holding her liquor. She rarely drank, but today was always one of the exceptions. At least this time she would have company. But that was what worried her. What if her inhibitions disappeared, and she found herself confessing her true feelings? She would lose him for sure if that happened, she was positive.

"Do you have wine?"

Wine was safe. A glass or two, and she should have been fine.

Severus summoned a bottle. "I hope elf-made will suffice? I'm afraid I do not have any Muggle kind."

Hermione nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

After he had poured them each a glass, Hermione reached out to take hers.

"I wish you would take me up on my offer," he said, staring at the hideous scar on her forearm.

Mudblood. The word stood out, forever pink and raised against her skin. The first time he had seen it was the second time they worked together. It was summer, and stifling in the small room they were granted to conduct their research. Hermione removed the jumper she had been wearing, and when he noticed the marking on her arm, he snatched her wrist. She would never forget the expression on his face when he had read what it said. His lips twisted, and there was a burning hatred in his dark eyes that could have incinerated the room. He demanded to know who had done that to her, and she could have sworn she heard him growl when she told him it was Bellatrix. He had a salve, he told her, that could rid her of the scar, yet she declined. She couldn't explain it, but she refused to let him heal it. That scar was a battle wound. She earned that scar, no matter how terrible it was. It reminded her daily that she was a warrior, and also it reminded her that if she could endure that torture, she could endure anything life could have thrown at her.

Hermione granted him a patient smile, accompanied by a sigh.

"Like I've told you, Severus, I appreciate the offer, but I cannot let you."

"But why?" he demanded.

"Severus, why haven't you removed your scars?" she asked, thinking that she knew his reasons, and that they were in line with her own.

He didn't respond, but she knew.

"I still wish you would," he repeated in a whisper.

"I know."

Each of them took a drink of their wine, to do something during the heavy silence. His hand was still cupping her arm while they drank.

Suddenly Severus began gently rubbing his thumb across her scar, almost like he hoped his touch would erase it. Something akin to a shot of electricity raced through her. Hermione could not believe what he was doing, nor did she want him to stop.

It was a simple touch, but it sent jolts of pure want through her being. This never happened with them. She and Severus did not touch. Sure, there had been occasional accidental contact, like bumping into one another in a small working space, or brushing against the other when reaching for something near them. But this? This was not something that happened.

Hermione closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his calloused thumb grazing her skin. It felt better than she imagined it would have, and all she wanted now was for him to touch elsewhere. Everywhere, if she had her way.

"You didn't deserve this," he said.

She couldn't blame the alcohol for her next move, since she had only taken a sip. Tentatively she raised her hand as she opened her eyes, watching him intently for any signs to stop, and when she found none, she ran her fingers over the scars on his neck.

"Neither did you," she responded.

Severus let out a quiet moan of contentment, and she felt him squeeze her forearm at her touch. When he leaned his head into her hand, Hermione was taken over by an unbearable impulse to kiss him. Her eyes landed on his lips, which had a red tint from the drink of wine he had taken. She couldn't fight this any longer. Something had changed between them. She was no longer unsure of their feelings for one another. Clearly he had some sort of feelings for her as well.

"Hermione," he said so softly, she nearly thought she imagined it.

She gasped.

"You called me Hermione? You've never—"

Her words were cut short. Severus abruptly took her face between his hands, and before her shock could even register, he crashed his lips onto hers.

Hermione's eyes went wide, and when the reality of what was happening settled in, she kissed him back with years of pent up tension finally being released. Neither were gentle, Hermione bit at his lower lip, as Severus grasped her bun and pulled. She reached up and undid her hair, letting it cascade in thick waves around her. A small squeak of surprise came from her, when he hooked his hand under her thigh, pulling her closer to him. Hermione took it one step further, and climbed into his lap, straddling him.

She pulled back and looked down at him, panting

"Severus," she breathed. "I've wanted to do this for so long," she admitted.

He leaned up and gave her a chaste kiss.

"I know. I have as well, Hermione."

She couldn't stop the wide smile from spreading across her face. Severus looked at her, his eyes were smoldering.

"Please," she begged. "Say it again?"

"Hermione," he whispered, then began kissing her neck.

Hermione arched her back. His tongue lightly traced the skin beneath the shell of her ear, causing goosebumps to form all over her body.

"So maddeningly beautiful," he purred into her ear. She shivered when he gave it a gentle nip.

Severus' hands travelled down her body, his fingertips brushed the sides of her breasts as he made his way down her torso. She mewed at the brief contact, pushing her chest into him silently begging for more.

"Patience, little witch," he growled into her neck. Hermione whined, she felt as if she would combust.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, as he grasped the hem of her dress, and tugged it up over her head. The air was cool against her bare skin, which made his hands feel extra hot as they splayed out across her back.

For once she did not find herself self-conscious about the long, jagged purple scar, running from her shoulder, across her torso, down to her hip, from Dolohov's curse. Severus was the only wizard she had been with, who not only did not flinch when he had seen it, but did not question her or stare. She appreciated that, and gods it made her want him more. She was filled her with a sudden boldness she normally did not possess in these situations.

Hermione lunged forward to capture his lips with her own as she fumbled trying to unbutton his shirt.

"Months," Severus said when he pulled away for a moment. "I've wanted—" he kissed her again. "This."

Finally she undid the final button. Just in time, because she was nearly prepared to just tear the bloody thing from his body.

"So have I," she said. "Years, really."

Severus paused to look at her. She nearly lost it then and there when he smirked at her.

"Years, you say?" he teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes, playfully slapping his chest.

"Shut it, you arse, and just snog me," she demanded.

Severus full out laughed. She had only heard him laugh like that once before. His laugh was so warm and deep, and gave him a light in his eyes which made him look years younger. She wished he had done it more often.

"As you wish."

They continued pawing at one another like two randy teenagers. She began rocking her hips, trying to build some sort of friction to satisfy the mounting tension that had reached a point of being almost painful. Severus cupped her breast in his hand, brushing his thumb over her covered nipple. How embarrassing. She felt that this alone would put her over the edge.

"Severus, please," she whined.

Hermione needed him, and she needed him now.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Was she sure?! She was mounted on top of him in nothing but her bra and knickers, how could she have appeared any less sure?

"Now, Severus!" she nearly growled.

It seemed that was all he was waiting for. In an instant, he had thrown her onto her back on the sofa, and shrugged out of his trousers and pants. Severus stood over her completely bare, and a small part of her wondered if this had been another one of her dreams.

Severus wasn't exactly gentle with her, which was fine by her. It was as if both of them had let out months — years in her case, of all the pent up sexual tension they had for one another in one glorious afternoon. After they had finished on the sofa, he had scooped her up and taken her into his bedroom for another go. They kept up that way until she was quite sure she couldn't lift another muscle, not even a pinky. And as the day leaked into the evening, the two were naked in his bed, with Hermione using his chest as a pillow, while he traced random patterns on her side with the tips of his fingers.

As she had time to lay with him and think, a question had come to her mind.

"Severus?" She asked. He hummed in response. "What… what made you… why today?"

She couldn't seem to articulate what she was thinking properly, which might have been a first for her.

Severus kissed the crown of her head before he responded.

"I'm not sure," he began. "I had only just come to the realization of my feelings for you after your last letter. It had been there for quite some time, but I can be rather stubborn."

"You don't say," she mumbled, then felt his chest shake with silent laughter.

"You have to understand, Hermione, my life has been… difficult, for nearly as long as I can remember. My early home life had been less than ideal, and I am sure you have heard, or have deduced, what my time as a student had been like."

Hermione only nodded in response. This was the most that Severus had ever spoken about his personal life, and she was afraid that if she spoke, he may not have continued.

"Then after some, let's say, poor decisions, my life ventured into a dark and dangerous path."

When he joined Voldemort was what he spoke of, she knew.

"Then, when I had come to realize my mistake, it had been too late…"

He paused. Hermione gave him a moment to mourn his loss of Lily Potter, and his choices which had ultimately resulted in her being hunted down by the madman who murdered her.

Severus cleared his throat.

"From then on, my life was no longer my own. I was forced to serve two masters, gathering information, and providing enough of that intel to remain credible, yet never put our side in actual danger, or be discovered. It was exhausting, Hermione."

Hermione placed her palm on his chest, over his heart.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she whispered.

Severus gripped her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"No. I do not tell you these things for pity, Hermione. Nor am I attempting to provide excuses. I am only attempting to explain, so you may understand," he said firmly.

She nodded and let him continue.

"After… the attack. The war was over, The Dark Lord had been taken down once and for all, and Dumbledore was… Dumbledore was gone. I was free."

Hermione could not have imagined what it must have been like for him. Granted, much of his past was his own fault. He made his choices, and then had to live with them. However, that did not mean fate hadn't been cruel when it came to Severus Snape. She did not pity him. He would have hated that. But she felt for him.

"I knew what the Wizarding world thought of me, however I couldn't find myself to give a damn. I had spent most of my life alone. It didn't matter if life would continue in that way. I was quite content in my loneliness. After so long leading a double life, the mundane was so very welcomed. Until one day, everything was turned upside down when an owl arrived in the Great Hall. When you came into my life, little witch."

Hermione gasped when he poked her side.

"You appeared like a raging fire, burning down all the darkness I had let consume me, and replacing it all with an inferno of color and light. You didn't look at me with hatred or suspicion in your eyes. You treated me as… a friend. I did not know how to handle it. It was many years since I have had someone who wanted and accepted my friendship with no expectations or demands. You made me… happy."

She felt like her heart was swelling, a tear rolled down her cheek. Hermione had no idea she had affected him so.

"For quite some time I tried to deny it. My growing feelings for you. I continued telling myself that I found your irksome little ways amusing. That you were nothing more than mild entertainment."

He glanced down at her as she scowled at him. Her scowl deepened when he laughed at her expression.

"I apologize," he said in a voice thick with sarcasm.

"I suppose you're forgiven," she responded, with a roll of her eye.

"I tried, Hermione. I tried to stay away. You are so young and so… good. Surely I did not deserve a witch such as you. I wasn't comfortable with how I began feeling almost addicted to your company. I do not enjoy feeling out of control of myself. However, your owls continued to arrive, and I found myself smiling when it was your handwriting on the envelope. Then, when your last letter arrived, and you explained your anxiety, regarding the events of today… I wanted nothing more than to take you in my arms, and protect you from ever feeling that way. That's when I knew, Hermione. I couldn't bear the thought of your pain, in any capacity. I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you, or touching you. I knew I couldn't stay away. That's when I knew I had fallen in love with you."

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pooling onto his bare chest. He loved her. Merlin, did she love him, too?

Hermione picked up her head, and turned onto her side. He was not looking at her, but instead was suddenly focused on a lock of her hair he twisted around his finger.

He had just told her he loved her, she had to say something, or she'd ruin everything. But, did she love him?

She thought back on the way her heart would flutter, just like they described in stories she had read as a girl, when she would see him. She thought of the genuine concern and anger on his face when he had seen her scar. She thought of how badly she longed to be near him during the times they had been apart. She thought of the way he was a constant player in her dreams. She thought of this afternoon, and how he had made her feel more beautiful and more wanted than any wizard she had been with. Yes. Yes, Hermione loved him. And she was quite sure she had for a while.

"I love you, too, Severus," she told him, placing her hand under his chin, coaxing him to look up at her.

There it was again. That smile. That years younger, light in his black eyes smile. The sight of it caused her to do something which was rare for Hermione Granger. She giggled.

In a flash, Severus wrapped both arms around her, and flipped her onto her back. He hovered above her with his hair hanging, tickling her cheeks, as he gazed down upon her with wonder in his eyes.

"Stay with me?" he asked. "Stay here tonight?"

Hermione beamed up at him.

"Always," she answered.

ooo

A/N - This piece was written for a fluff challenge on the HPFT forums and archives. I hope you're all doing well, and staying safe. Sending much love to you all!