Thanks to laumirot, the problem has been fixed.

...

"This is it?" The brown-haired witch eyed the glass container in her hand with great interest, shaking it lightly, the gray jelly-like contain inside stirred lazily in response.

The wizard sitting on the armchair facing her did not bother to look up from his book, just gave her an impatient huff.

"All right, all right, stupid question, I know. No need to be so annoyed, Severus." She was babbling, she knew, but she was nervous and excited at the same time. The seemly innocent bottle she was holding was the newly invented cursed scars curing balm creating by none other but Severus Snape himself.

Never did Hermione tell anyone how much her scars bothered her, how they made her feel less confident, afraid to show her body to another person. There was only one time, when she got too pissed to even stand after a lovely dinner with couple glasses of good wine, that she whispered to Severus how she hated the marks on her body, how they stopped her from getting intimate with her dates and therefore none of the relationships stayed. Of course, she did not tell him that her hopeless infatuation with him was another reason for her failing love life.

.

.

"I just don't want them to look at me with disgust or pity or sugar-coated how these prove my bravery, you know." She remembered murmuring to the Potion Master supporting her drunken body who did not look even a tiny bit pissed. They were at her home, he was helping her to her bedroom. She remembered looking into the dark pupils and wanted desperately to kiss him but somehow managed to contain herself. She swore she heard him murmured after he got her into the bed. "Scared or not, you are beautiful, Hermione." But it was probably just some illusion her foolish mind came up in the state of inebriated.

.

.

Now looking at this balm that Severus spent one and a half year to make, Hermione found herself unable to turn off the tiny voice in her heart whispering sweetly to her. "He did this for you. It could not be a mere coincident that he started to research the balm after that night." And a tiny flame of hope started to burn warmly inside her.

Severus chose this moment to close his book and stood up, and she just noticed how late the time was—almost nine o'clock. Time spending beside the fire with him always felt too short, thought it was a sweet torture with her constant ache to touch him.

"I should take my leave, Hermione, thank you for the dinner." They have had weekend dinner every two weeks for almost two years now, rotated between her place and his. They always read and talked after dinner, sometimes well into midnight. It seems that today was not one of those times.

"You don't need to leave this early, Severus, I haven't told you about the idiots I ran into on the last case yet." She smiled and stood up as well, unwilling to let him go.

"I thought you would need some time to…" The dark wizard cleared his throat, seemly unable to meet her gaze. "to test the balm."

Understanding draw pink to her cheeks. They both knew where her scars were, and to talk about them, albeit indirectly, was a bit too sensual for them both. But the tiny spark of hope gave her courage she did not have before, and what she said next startled both of them.

"I would like you to help me apply them." Hermione bit her bottom lip the moment those words came out, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. "I mean, won't it be better if you can gather the data yourself?"

"No doubt I can trust you with this, Hermione. That is why I asked you to help me test it at the first place."

"Oh, right." Great, stop right here and let the poor man go. "But…" She took a deep breath, stepped closer to Severus and placed a hand on his arm. His face was expressionless, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. "But I need you to be here, Severus. Didn't you say the process will be as painful as being cursed?"

"Your friends…"

"Never saw my scars, not all of them." She shook her head. "You are the only one that saw them all. Please? Severus. Help me apply it."

…

He knew the moment she knew, that he has done this all for her. Nineteen months and twelve days, all those time and effort spent on this single Potion, just for her. Just so that she could wear short sleeves during summer, and could be confident about her beauty.

…

"I just don't want them to look at me with disgust or pity or sugar-coated how these prove my bravery, you know." He remembered that night, the feel of her body pressed against his, her breath smelled like wine caressing his neck. And he was rigid and miserable, wanting nothing else but to kiss her and showed her no amount of scars would make him desire less of her. But his opinion did not matter, he was merely a friend, a college.

He had helped her into her bed. "Don't be foolish, girl, only a fool will think the scars matter." He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, brilliant, brave, if her date thought less of her because of her scars then he did not deserve her. But his mouth failed him, just like every single time he tried to say something nice to her. He could not risk ruining their friendship by showing his feelings.

"You think so?" She laughed a half laugh, and before he could stop her, took off her dress and lied down on the bed. "Look, aren't them disgusting?"

He could still picture her that night, lying on the bed with only her undergarment, she was a goodness glowing softly under the golden candle light. Her scars were nothing compared to her beauty, still it pained him to know how she had suffered, and at the moment he knew he was a lost case.

"Scared or not, you are beautiful, Hermione." He whispered, unable to stop himself. Thankfully the young witch was already deep in dreamland. He had pulled the cover over her sleeping body (trying very hard only looking at her face), brought a hangover Potion to her bedside, and, despite all his self-control, placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his nose buried in her messy curls. It was the most intimate thing he has ever done to her, though she has hugged him in more than one occasion. Breathing in her scent, he promised himself that he would do anything to ease her pain, to remove the scars, to give her a chance to find someone she loved. Then you could die broken-hearted when she got married. He shoved the thought aside. As long as she was happy, it did not matter how his pathetic heart would feel.

…

You are a fool, Snape. She probably is thinking a polite way to turn you down. He gave her the Potion without second thoughts, and only now realize what he did was akin to shouting his feelings on her face, and Hermione Granger was always a smart witch. He observed her closely but he could not interpret what she was thinking. It mattered too much for him that he did not dare to make a wrong guess.

Unable to bear the weight of her silence and the slow crack of his heart, he took his leave, never would he imagine she would ask him to stay and to help her to treat her scars.

Looking into her whiskey brown eyes, he was dumbfounded and enchanted, unable to do anything but to bend to her will.

Leave! Leave now! You old fool! His conscience was shouting.

"If you so wish." His body nodded and sat down.

You are in deeper trouble than you thought, Snape.

…

He stayed. He stayed! The hope burned a little brighter, a little stronger. Hermione let out the breath she did not know she was holding and smiled to the wizard sitting rigidly opposite to her. Looking at Severus, his face expressionless as ever, long black hairs fell forward half-covering his face, yet the uncertainty she always felt seemed to fade away. She had made up her mind. Tonight would be the night to show him how she felt before the fire of hope and love burned her alive. Though how, she had not the slightest idea.

They sat in silence for a couple long minutes, neither sure what to do next.

Finally, Hermione cleared her throat. "I would like to start now, that is, if you don't mind?"

"I see no reason to object." Severus shifted on his armchair, instantly changed into lecture posture. "Like I told you before, this Potion will extract the dark magic residue from the scars. During the process, you may experience flashbacks as well as the pain associated with the curse. The balm, after it absorbed all the dark magic, will turn into dark powders and left the scar bare. Further application of Dittany will be required to heal the wound. I would suggest you change into more comfortable clothes." His expression shifted a little and he averted his eyes. "That was why I said it would be better to have one of your friends to help you." He murmured, looking at the book on his knees.

Feeling extremely bold, she stood up and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are my friend, too. Severus. You seem to have troubles remembering this." Heart racing, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek and fled.

"I will go change." Her voice was trembling and she had no idea if he had heard her.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. She closed the door of her bedroom and leaned to the wooden surface. "You can do this, Hermione Granger. Just keep breathing, everything will be fine."