Author Note 1: We are getting to the smut. No, it won't happen in this chapter. I just wanted to warn everyone ahead of time. Yes, I know FFN rules – I'm aiming for smut, not porn. I should be okay with an M rating. Thanks to those of you who expressed concern. I will endeavor not to get the story deleted from FFN. That would be bad – not to mention that everyone would have to go back and leave all their reviews over again. I would insist.

Author Note 2: According to the books, Snape is half-blood. This story started before that revelation. For the purposes of this story, he is pureblood. That isn't going to change. Also, I've played a bit with the Severus/Lily backstory because . . . well, I can.

Big thanks to Melusin for her beta skills. I was all over the place this time. She does a wonderful job of corralling my errors.

That's all.

Chapter 45: Queen to Queen's Level Three*

Hermione glanced worriedly after Severus as he left. Leaving the way he had wasn't normal, nor was ignoring the Headmaster's call. There had been pain in his eyes when he'd finally looked up at her, and her first instincts were to follow him. Reason, however, overruled impulsive emotion, and she stayed where she was. Chasing him down now in front of the others, when he was agitated, would just cause him to pull further away. She'd give him time to settle himself first. Then she'd go find him.

Something was very wrong; she had a bad feeling about it all, and wasn't sure how to shake it. The equations she was working on were part of it. Severus was part of it. Vector's reaction the other day to her questions about the matrix, although her professor had tried to play if off as nothing, was also part of whatever was going on. It wasn't nothing, whatever it was. Vector wasn't telling her something, and she was determined to figure out what it was – especially if it somehow affected Harry, Severus and the upcoming battle.

"He wants me to take care of a baby? That's his big plan?"

The disbelief in Harry's voice snapped Hermione's attention back to the garden. "Let me see that, Harry."

Harry tossed her the slim book, and she fought the urge to glare at him for being so cavalier with it. As soon as the soft leather touched her hand, she knew what book it was. Flipping it over just confirmed her guess – Raising a Magical Child by Dr. Spook.

"It is a spellbook, Harry," Dumbledore said before Hermione could answer. "Many of the spells in it are ancient, predating even the use of wands by witches and wizards. While most are geared towards the development of young witches and wizards, many others are of more broad usage. But most importantly, the contained spells are the antithesis of Dark magic."

Ginny had got up and approached Hermione. "Mum had this book," she said, tapping the cover. "She told me once that she got it from her mum." Ginny paused and took a deep shuddering breath. "She said that one day she'd pass the book onto me."

"Gin-" Ron's voice was soft.

Ginny gave her brother a sad smile. "I'm okay, Ron. I just miss her. Dad, too. But I can, at least, hope that he's still alive. Pretend a little." She gave herself a little shake and straightened her shoulders.

Seeing Ginny take on a determined air, Hermione thought she looked remarkably like Molly Weasley in that moment. Ginny's next question cemented Hermione's thought that Ginny was stepping up to take the position of the Weasley family matriarch. It was a role that Hermione thought Ginny would fill very well.

"So how is the book supposed to help Harry?"

Dumbledore Transfigured a rock into a comfortable chair before boosting the power of the warming charms around them. Settling himself, he said, "Older magic, typically referred to as 'mother's magic' – although really it's not confined just to witches, or mothers for that matter – is dependent on feelings of love and protection, much as Dark magic is dependent on the more negative emotions. It makes sense, I suppose, as both are ancient forms of magic. Destruction, however, is easy and has grown as Wizarding society has grown. Old spells were adapted to wand use over the years, giving us both Curses and Unforgivables. The intent behind them, though, that has not changed."

Harry reached a hand over to Hermione, and she handed back the book. Flipping through a few of the pages, he scanned down the spells. "These look simple enough."

"They aren't." The words were out of her mouth before she had given them proper thought, and she immediately cursed herself for being an idiot as four sets of eyes swung in her direction. Harry, Ron and Ginny's were curious. The Headmaster's darkly amused expression made her want to throw something at him. She had no doubt that the Headmaster knew exactly why she was familiar with the spells.

Ron cocked his head to one side while he studied her. "Professor Snape did say that you could help with the book. How's that, Hermione?"

She sighed. "I've used one of the spells."

Harry was frowning. "But it's a baby book."

"Before you go getting any ideas, I'm not now nor have I ever been pregnant. So don't even go there. I did do a spell from the book, though. Do you guys remember last year when I drained my magic?" At their nods, she continued, "That was the result of the spell I cast."

She wasn't going to tell them exactly what she'd done, as that was between her and Severus, but she did explain enough. "I created one of the protection charms in the book - a very powerful one that required a lot of trial and error before I got it right. And even then, well, you saw what it did to me afterwards. You have to believe in those spells, just like you have to believe in the Unforgivables. Channeling that kind of emotion isn't easy."

"Nor should it be easy," Dumbledore added with such an air of wise-old-man that Hermione had the urge to throw something at him again. "Unlike the Dark Arts spells, these types of spells typically involve sacrifice, be it time or magical energy, or—"

"My mother, who sacrificed her life."

Hermione noticed Ron stiffen beside Harry, his eyes narrowed in the same look of concentration he sometimes got when deep in the middle of a chess game.

Dumbledore climbed to his feet. "Sacrifice is never easy, but we are not bound to your mother's path. Read the book, Harry. Afterwards, come and find me. We can discuss what you've read." Giving a nod to Hermione and Ron, the Headmaster addressed Ginny. "I believe your brother will wake up soon. It might be wise to make sure that Fred and George are-"

"Leashed?" Ginny said with a bit of a laugh as she jumped up to her feet.

"I was going to say, contained, but leashed will work. I spoke with Severus earlier. He will provide you with the necessary information you require."

Ginny flashed a small smile. It wasn't the wide, happy grin of old, but it was a smile, and Hermione was glad to see it. Ginny had been elected to deal with Percy as the least antagonistic of the Weasley clan still present. Hermione didn't doubt that Ginny would bring Percy around to their side, especially with the evidence they would be presenting. She felt somewhat sorry for Percy, though. He was about to have his faith in everything he believed in torn away.

As Ginny followed the Headmaster back to the house, Hermione decided that she'd given Severus enough time and decided that it was time she tracked him down. "Harry, I'm going to head in as well. Let me know if you have any questions about the book."

Hermione had just stepped back onto the crushed stone path when Harry called out, "Hey, Hermione, which spell did you do?"

She paused, and then called back, "I created the Sleeping Sheets."

"Did they work?"

She flashed him a smile. "They did."

Percy shook his head in confusion. Blinking rapidly against a strong white light that was shining directly into his eyes, he wrinkled his nose in distaste at the strong smell of mildew and onions. Attempting to raise an arm to block the light, he found he couldn't move. The smallest feeling of panic began to set in as he tried to understand what was going on. Squinting his eyes, he tried to peer into the darkness beyond the small circle of light, but could see nothing for the blinding glare.

"Hello?"

"Oh, he's awake?"

Percy struggled against the ropes holding him to a hard wooden chair. "And feisty." Another voice from the dark said.

Percy swung his head, the only part of his body he could move, in the direction of the voices. Trying to see into the gloom, only vague shapes met his gaze as fear bubbled through him. Had he been captured by Death Eaters? "Who's there? What do you want? I work for the Ministry. They won't take kindly to this. Let me go immediately, I say."

"Demanding, isn't he?" the first voice said.

"Very," agreed the second.

Percy swallowed against the lump in his throat as the first voice started to laugh, the sound low and creepy as it echoed off the walls around them.

There was the sound of footsteps descending a set of stairs and then *smack*. The sound of a slap reverberated through the room, followed quickly by an aggrieved "Ow."

"Knock it off, you two. I swear, we can't trust you two alone for ten minutes. Lumos."

Percy's eyes teared up as the blinding light mellowed to a more normal light, and the rest of the small room lit up as well. He could now see he was in some kind of root cellar as mounds of potatoes and onions were piled up in baskets around him. He struggled to understand how he'd got here and what was going on. The memories of the last few hours hit him – the twins, their fight and being abducted. He had a hazy memory of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, but wasn't certain if that was a dream or real.

"Ginny?"

His sister was still glaring at his two younger twin siblings, neither one of which looked the least bit contrite.

"Ginny?" he asked again, still thoroughly confused. "What is going on here? Untie me."

His sister gave him a look he couldn't interpret. "Sorry, I can't do that, Percy."

Percy blinked at her, ignoring the snickering twins standing behind her. "Why ever not?"

"Because you're collaborating with the enemy," Fred hissed.

Ginny's hand immediately snapped out, slapping against Fred's stomach with a sharp sound.

"Ooof!" Fred glared at Ginny. "What was that for?"

Ginny turned slightly to glare again at her brothers. "We agreed on how we were going to do this. I was going to do the talking."

Fred leaned slightly toward George. "She looks like mum when she does that."

George nodded his head. "That she does," he agreed fondly, if still a little sadly.

Ginny ignored the two and pulled a three-legged stool to Percy's side. "Here's the deal, Percy. The Ministry has been taken over by Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters."

She said the name with such loathing that even Percy flinched back, but he felt the need to protest. "Ginny, I understand you're upset, but we are the Ministry. I think I would know if You-Know-Who was wandering the halls."

George made a rude noise. "You wouldn't know your arse with both hands, much less a Death Eater."

Ginny raised her hand. "Either you two shut it or you leave."

Both made grumbling noises, but remained silent.

"Listen to me, Percy," Ginny began. "Riddle is Devrom Dollort. Over the last year, he's systemically replaced key people in the Ministry with his Death Eaters. The people that were picked up, like Mum and Dad, they were threats to Riddle."

"The people picked up by the Ministry were identified threats or probable threats to the stability of the Wizarding World. Everything that the Ministry has done was only to ensure the safety of everyone involved. We had sworn statements from loyal and trustworthy Ministry officials that many of the people picked up were Death Eaters or loyal supporters. And I've met Mr Dollort. He's a brilliant man with expansive ideas of how to better the Wizarding World. You've been twisted by association with Potter and Dumbledore. If Mr Dollort was You-Know-Who, he'd be trying to take over the Ministry – running for Minister even. But Mr Dollort has always maintained that he doesn't want the position."

George made another noise, but Ginny didn't stop him this time.

"Not to mention," Percy continued with a glare aimed over Ginny's shoulder, "if the people that the Ministry were holding really were all that innocent, why did the Death Eaters try to break them out of their internment village at Azkaban? The Ministry lost a lot of good Aurors in that fight."

"Internment village?" Fred spat out. "Don't tell me you actually believed that rot in those Ministry pamphlets about special housing while everyone was sorted out?"

"And why shouldn't I believe it? Why would the Ministry lie?"

"And what about Mum and Dad, you prat? Do you really think they were Death Eaters in disguise?"

Percy heaved a sigh and struggled a moment against the ropes still holding him to the chair. He hated the fact that he was arguing with them from this ridiculous position. "No, Mum and Dad weren't Death Eaters, but they certainly hung around with forces that were working to undermine the authority of the Ministry. They were misguided in their allegiance, that's all. They were simply being kept until the Ministry had stabilized the Wizarding World and things could be explained to them. An admirable goal, if you ask me. Not to mention, I was in serious talks with Mr Rowle to secure Mum and Dad's early releases. The Death Eater raid on Azkaban was unfortunate, and certainly put back my negotiations, but you can hardly lay the blame for that on the Ministry or me."

"He's not going to listen," Fred said.

"I still say we just Imperius him and be done with it," George added.

"No." She gave Percy a somewhat sad looking smile, and Percy felt a niggle of nervousness slide down his spine.

"What are you going to do?"

She ignored his question as she pulled a small vial of what looked like quicksilver from her robe pocket. At her gesture, Fred pulled a worn and unadorned wooden bowl from one of the shelves.

"What are you doing?"

They continued to ignore him as Ginny poured the silver into the bowl and gave it a gentle swirl. It hit Percy then, what they were doing. "That's a Pensieve. Whose memories are you putting in there?" He pulled against the ropes again, suddenly very afraid of whatever they thought they were going to show him. "Let me go!"

Ginny was carrying the bowl towards his head as he arched back as far as he could to avoid the bowl and its contents.

"These are Professor Snape's memories, Percy. I asked him when he first withdrew them if I could see them first. He wouldn't let me, but he said that you'd need to see them." She took a breath and then added, "He told me to tell you that he was sorry."

Concentrating on Ginny and the Pensieve, Percy missed the twins coming around to the other side of the chair until four hands grabbed his head and pushed his face forward into the swirling, silvery liquid.

Wandering in behind Ginny and the Headmaster, Hermione began her search for Severus. She supposed she could have just asked one of the house-elves, but that seemed to be cheating somehow. She didn't think he'd left the house so she started at the top and wound her way through the rooms. She eventually found Severus in a section of the basement of Grimmauld Place where the Order had set up a minimalist Potions workshop. She made no effort to be quiet as she came down the wooden stairs, so she knew he'd heard her, although he gave no sign that he was aware of her presence as he methodically chopped something laid out on his board.

That was fine. She was content to wait as waiting for him to come to her seemed to work best for them. Sitting midway down the stairs, she made herself comfortable. She found herself watching him after a few moments. She'd done a lot of watching while at Hogwarts, but it had always been done slyly, lest she be caught. Now, she unabashedly stared, indulging herself with this unlooked for opportunity.

He was dressed casually, or as casually as Severus ever got, she supposed. He was wearing his usual dark trousers, but his coat and outer robe had been removed. A white shirt, the sleeves neatly rolled up over his forearms, completed his outfit. Both the starkness of the black and white and the simplicity seemed to suit him, she decided, although it was still odd to see him so underdressed. She'd only seen him once before dressed so casually – that long ago night when one of the Gryffindors had got sick. Then, like now, she thought he was too thin, but she was pleased to note that his clothes no longer hung upon his frame, and as he chopped, it was smooth muscle that shifted and moved beneath this shirt, not the lines of sharp shoulder blades. Hermione's fingertips tingled. She wanted to feel those lean muscles move beneath her fingers.

Feeling a blush heat her cheeks, she risked a glance at his face, but he was still ignoring her. She sighed softly. She'd been kissed by three boys in her life. The first had been when she was eight. The second had been her neighbor the first summer back from Hogwarts. The third had been Victor Krum. She'd read enough over the years to know both the clinical biology of the textbooks and the romantic flights of fancy found in her mother's romance novels. Nothing, however, had prepared her for this – this attraction – this wanting. She knew what she wanted, but not how to get there, especially with a man like Severus Snape. She doubted he'd appreciate her throwing herself at him, and the last time she'd followed her more aggressive Gryffindor instincts, he'd all but fled.

She still wasn't even completely sure he felt the same way about her. Maybe if she'd had more experience with men, she'd have a better sense of him, but she had precious little experience to draw on. That pretty much meant that it was best to let this, whatever this was, happen at his pace. Of course, that didn't mean that Hermione couldn't enjoy the view. There was something about watching his hands sort and chop. His fingers, long, sure and dexterous. She knew they were scarred and calloused, but watching him, she couldn't help but imagine those hands on her. A shiver worked its way up her spine. It felt liberating, and yet decidedly wicked, to think of Severus this way when he was so close to her.

"Are you planning on sitting there the rest of the day?"

She ducked her head to hide both her blush and her smile. "I enjoy watching you work. It's . . ." She searched for the right word. "It's enlightening," she finally said. "In the most unexpected ways."

"Hmm."

It was a non-committal noise, but she took it as encouragement that he was ready to talk. "How to Raise a Magical Child?"

The steady rhythm of his chopping faltered for a split second before resuming. "He has a power he knows not. The Headmaster and I have long puzzled what that meant. We always knew it tied into the Dark Lord's first defeat by . . . Lily Potter. After I discovered the sheets, I researched their manufacture and history. That was the book you used for guidance, was it not?" For one brief moment, he looked up at her before his eyes were once again focused on his task.

"That was the book. But . . . ." she hesitated.

"But?" he prompted when the silence stretched between them.

"What is Harry supposed to do? The book is filled with spells. Which one is right?"

"I cannot tell you, or Potter, that. Dumbledore has spent the last year teaching Potter about the Dark Lord, about how Tom Riddle became Him. It is that knowledge which should help Potter determine what spell would work."

"Can't you help with the selection?"

"I cannot. Even I do not know everything the Headmaster has shared with Potter."

Indignation on his behalf rose swiftly, and her voice came out sharp. "I thought he trusted you?"

The blade paused again in its relentless motion before resuming, at what seemed to Hermione, an even faster pace. "It is not a matter of trust. It is a matter of safety. The Dark Lord is a powerful Legilimens. If he had ever discovered a memory, a thought, anything in my mind that should not have been there . . ." Severus trailed off. "It has always been the best course of action that I know only the least amount of information. For my own sake as much as for the Order's and the Headmaster's plans."

Hermione's fist clenched. She understood the necessity. She even agreed with it, in principle. But it seemed somehow belittling and unfair to the man who lay so much more than anyone else on the line.

"Potter will need to read the book. He will need to decide, and I cannot know what plans you subsequently make. If I am summoned, it is best that I can truthfully tell the Dark Lord that I am untrusted and that the plans for attacking him have not been shared with me."

"It's unfair."

One shoulder rose in a graceful shrug. "It is unavoidable. Plus, I have long suspected that Lily's triumph had much to do with the sheer unexpectedness of her defense as anything else."

He fell silent again. Hermione watched him gather up the chopped ingredients and add them to a small copper kettle. Healing potion, she realized. One of the stronger varieties that required phoenix feathers. Imminently practical considering the fight that loomed only a few days away.

Lily Potter. Or Lily Evans. It always seemed to come back to Lily – for Voldemort, for Harry and for Severus. She'd noticed his hesitation each time he spoke of Lily. Everything he'd done, everything he was now, was a tribute to his love for a woman long gone. The memories seemed to hurt him though, not bring the memories of love and affection that Hermione got when she thought about her own departed and dearly loved grandmother. Then again, every time Lily was mentioned, it was concerning her death. No one ever seemed to speak about her life. "Will you tell me about Lily Evans?" Lily Evans, not Lily Potter. It was a deliberate word choice on her part.

His head bowed, and his eyes closed, though he didn't falter in his stirring.

"Severus?" She said it softly, the first time she'd spoken his name since descending the stairs. "Tell me about the girl you loved. Tell me about Lily Evans she said, stressing the last name just slightly.

Eyes still closed, he began to speak. "The Snapes are mostly pureblood. Like the Weasleys, they are a family line that has never garnered much wealth or position within the Wizarding world. Our house, my house now, was located in a dilapidated old mill town. Lily Evans and her family moved nearby when I was young. She became my one companion. My confidant. It didn't matter that she was a Muggle, or so I thought at the time of our first meeting. She was like finding a diamond among ordinary pebbles. The first time I saw her perform a bit of uncontrolled, wandless magic, she apologized in embarrassment." He laughed softly then. "Apologized, as if she'd done something terrible."

Hermione remembered her own early bouts of wandless magic – the confusion and fear of what people would say, how they would look at her. She understood why Lily would have apologized. How she might have been afraid that she would drive her new friend Severus off.

"I'm the one who told her she was a witch. Told her about magic and Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. The day I told her unicorns and dragons were real, she hugged me."

Hermione grinned at the mental image Severus' words painted. She'd been rather giddy herself the day she'd figured out that unicorns were real.

"My childhood was . . . less than ideal. There was little affection displayed in the Snape household. Lily's spontaneous and easy affection was overwhelming." He stopped for a moment, and then continued. "I'd never felt anything like it. I think I fell in love with her in that moment."

He stopped again, checking the potion and adding three phoenix feathers to the mixture, obviously using the distraction to gather his thoughts.

"I was the first person she came to see the day her Hogwarts letter arrived. We went together to Diagon Alley that first time. It was with great pride that I finally had the chance to introduce her to everything I'd been telling her stories about. Then, there was Hogwarts."

"It must have been thrilling."

"It was one of the worst days of my young life."

Hermione frowned in confusion. "You met Harry's dad and Sirius?" she hazarded a guess.

He made a dismissive noise. "They were there, but were inconsequential so long as I had Lily by my side. No, it had simply never occurred to me that Lily would be Sorted any differently than I."

"But you remained friends, even then."

"We did," he agreed. "Our friendship was stronger than House pride or politics, for a while, at any rate. But the very things that drew me to Lily – her brightness, warmth and personality – drew others as well."

"Like James."

"Like James Potter."

He gave one last stir to the potion and then with a wave of his wand doused the flame beneath the kettle. For the first time, he turned and faced her fully. "I did love Lily. A part of me still does, even now when I also acknowledge that she was never going to love me back the way I wanted her to."

"It doesn't matter if she reciprocated your feelings or not. You loving her was enough. It changed you. Made you a better man."

"At the time, it made no difference. Now . . . perhaps. Sometimes, I am not so sure."

"I'm sure," she answered, absolute conviction in her voice.

Severus took a step away from the work table towards her. "You are like her in many ways, and yet different in just as many others. Part of me demands I warn you off. You are too young, too innocent . . . too everything."

He took another step towards her, and the air suddenly changed. Hermione was afraid to move. Not afraid of him, but afraid any movement on her part would halt his slow advance towards her. She did give him another smile, one filled with everything she felt for this complicated, complex man. "I'm always going to be younger. Compared with all the things you have seen and done, I'm afraid that I'll always be an innocent."

He took another step forward, and Hermione finally rose to her feet. She did not move forward, though, but stayed standing on the stair. "As for too . . . everything-"

Severus was looking up at her now. Her vantage point felt odd as she was used to looking up at him, not down. Her heart beat fast beneath her ribs, which made no sense because he'd done nothing but look up at her. He was simply standing there, watching her.

"Severus?" It was more gasp than anything as there didn't seem to be enough oxygen, and she was having a hard time breathing.

His eyes widened, although she wasn't sure if it was because of his name or something else. There was something there, in his gaze. Something dangerous and yet thrilling. It called to her, and she took another step down. They were eye to eye now, and Hermione wasn't sure either of them was breathing.

He reached out and took hold of her hand. The sweep of his thumb in a broad stroke across her palm made her knees lock, lest she fall. "Someone once said that it is better to have loved and lost, then to have never loved at all."

She frowned slightly, unsure of his meaning. He was telling her something, and she wasn't getting the subtleties, her senses too muddled and distracted by that thumb that was still sweeping across her palm.

"Severus?"

He shook his head. "I am not sure the speaker was correct – then or now. To be given everything, only to-"

"I'm not going anywhere." She sought to reassure him and was rewarded with a small twist of his lips as the air around them seems to thicken and spark with electricity . . . or maybe magic.

His hand, broad and strong, that held hers so securely moved upward. She felt it, warm and rough with callouses against the side of her face. Her mind blanked as he pulled her towards him. She felt the puff of his breath moments before the soft brush of his lips against her. Once, then twice, and Hermione had forgotten to blink so she saw him pull slightly away. Severus' eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them and she couldn't resist. She leaned forward, trusting him to hold her weight.

This time, the brush of lip against lip was firmer before settling confidently against her mouth. He'd kissed her. Kissed her like every hero ever kissed the heroine in all of Hermione's mother's romance novels. Her only thought was Oh before he'd completely stolen her breath away. Hermione was lost in the feel of him – the touch of his lips, the feel of his hand against her face, the tips of his fingers caught in the tendrils of her hair and the suddenly heavy warmth of his other hand as it settled firmly on her hip.

Of their own accord, her own hands rose, and her fists gripped the front of his shirt. She was somewhere between holding him tight and pulling him towards her. She wasn't sure who made the small noise of contentment as she opened her mouth to him as he ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip. She was fairly sure it was her. The kiss grew, but still somehow stayed innocent. Severus neither pushed nor demanded more from her, and for several long minutes, Hermione was lost in the taste and feel of him.

Hermione felt the hand on her hip grip tight right before he pushed her back. She shivered at the look on his face before he lowered his head slightly, his hair sliding forward to cover his expression.

"I need you to go upstairs now." His voice was rough and quiet in a way she'd never heard before.

"I don't-"

"Please."

Hermione shivered again, a tremor that she knew he could feel as his hands still held her tight. She wasn't sure what to say, so she nodded. When he released her, she suddenly felt cold. Not the cold of his Occlumency shields, but the loss of his body heat. She took a step backwards and upward, and suddenly she was looking down on him again and unexpectedly afraid - flashing lines and Arithmancy equations floating through her mind. She turned then and climbed the stairs, her sudden fear lending her speed. As she opened the door, she caught one last glimpse of him, half-cloaked in shadow and still standing motionless at the bottom of the stairs.

She was still shaking by the time she reached her room. He'd kissed her. Sweet Merciful Merlin! Severus had kissed her. Her fingertips found their way to her lips. She could still feel him there. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to twirl around the room or . . . or . . . "Someone once said that it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. I am not sure the speaker was correct – then or now. To be given everything, only to-"

The fear swept back over her. He'd been telling her something. To be given everything, only to- What had he been about to say? Only to what? Lose it? Did he expect to lose her? And his reference to then and now? Did he mean then as in Lily or then as to the time of the speaker of the old proverb?

Hermione swallowed back the taste of bile. Was it a first kiss or a last? Her eyes fell on her Arithmancy project scrolls. Something was wrong there. Something was wrong with Severus. She knew the two were somehow connected, and she was close to seeing the whole picture. She just didn't have all the pieces put together yet. She looked out the doorway to the hall. The part of her still spinning around in giddy disbelief wanted to rush back downstairs to Severus. She shook her head.

What had Severus said: too young, too innocent and too everything? She made a face. Compared with him, she was all those things. But she wasn't as young or innocent as she had been. And that part of her, not the giddy part, prompted her to pull out the scroll she been working on earlier. Settling down in the bedroom chair, she started reviewing her calculations again.

The light coming in through the bedroom windows was red-tinged when Hermione finally set down her quill. She checked her numbers again, hoping for a miscalculation, a switched sign, anything to prove that she was wrong. Oh, merciful Merlin, she couldn't do this.

She was out of the chair and halfway across the room with the idea of talking to the Headmaster when she stopped. A conversation she'd had last summer with Professor Dumbledore floated through her mind. It had been when Severus was hurt and unconscious, and she'd taken offense at what she perceived as Dumbledore's disregard for Severus' life. Dumbledore had said: "I have asked Severus for much over the years. He has never failed to deliver. I will ask more of him in the future." Then the Headmaster had turned to her: "There may come a time when I will ask it of you. You will have to look within yourself, just as Severus has, to determine your answer. What would you give, Miss Granger, to see Tom defeated? What is it worth to you? I protect as much as I can. I guard all of you with every bit of skill and knowledge at my disposal, but that doesn't mean I don't make mistakes. It doesn't mean that those who stand with me are never in harm's way when the need calls for it."

They knew. Dumbledore and Vector, they knew. Slowly she returned to her seat, sinking down into it and drawing up her knees. Severus knew. And suddenly much of his recent behavior made sense to her. What he'd said earlier made an awful sense. The distance, the look he'd get in his eyes sometimes. He wasn't afraid that she was going to leave. He was preparing for him to leave. He was preparing himself to die.

She waited for the anger to come then. They'd kept this from her. Deliberately. But the anger didn't come. Wrapping her arms around her drawn up knees, she tucked herself into a small ball of misery. She couldn't do this. Her heart felt like it was breaking apart inside of her. She wouldn't do this. Climbing to her feet, she headed out into the hallway and towards the stairs. Severus' room was on the top floor. He was the only one in the house that had a bedroom up there. Climbing the stairs, she settled down to wait for him.

She was still sitting at the top of the stairs when he came up. It was draftier up here on the higher floors, and she'd pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them to keep herself warm. He climbed slowly, each step deliberate, and she knew by the minute pause in his step the moment he saw her there. He would know that she was waiting for him, but like the man she knew him to be, he moved relentlessly forward, stopping only when his eyes were level with hers.

Severus studied her for several long minutes. There must have been something in her expression or body language because he didn't mention the kiss from earlier. Instead, when he spoke, he sounded resigned but not surprised. "You know."

A tiny smile quirked her lips upwards. Never let it be said that Severus Snape was not an intelligent or perceptive man. "Professor Vector says I've a real talent in Arithmancy." She stopped and took a deep breath, using every bit of willpower to keep herself under control. "You can't do it. I won't do it."

Severus took another step up and then lowered himself to sit on the stair, his back against the wall. Distracting herself from his all too knowing gaze, she reached out, running a fingertip along the sliver of white that peaked out beneath the collar on his coat. She'd enjoyed seeing him so casually dressed earlier, but this was the Severus she knew best – dark, with all his buttons buttoned. She'd never seen anyone wear clothes the way he did. The black fabric was clothing, armor and shield all rolled together into one multi-buttoned coat.

Reaching up, he captured her hand in his larger one, stilling her movement. "You will do it. You have to. Just as Potter has to face the Dark Lord."

"I-" She felt her control break as the tears she'd been holding back tracked down her cheeks. Hastily, she pulled her hand free from his, wiping the betraying moisture away.

He brushed the back of two fingers against her cheek, catching a few more stray tears, and she fought to catch her breath. "You have accomplished everything you have ever set out to do, Hermione. This task must be done, and you will do it."

She let out a short, tear-filled laugh. "I don't want to be the over-achieving know-it-all." She let out a shuddering breath as his fingers continued their caress. "I want to fail at something. I want to fail at this."

"You do not have the option of failure. Too much resides on you."

She closed her eyes, unwilling to show how much this was killing her.

"Come here."

The words were soft and so quietly spoken that Hermione thought she might have imagined them. She opened her eyes.

"Come here," he repeated, no louder than the first time he'd said them, but this time, his hand was outstretched to her, his palm up and his fingers curled slightly in invitation.

There was no hesitation as she all but flowed into the circle of his arms. It didn't matter that they were sitting at the top of the stairs and anyone could come up and find them. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulled herself into him, accepting the comfort he was offering. Tucking her head against the side of his neck, she took a deep breath, inhaling the reassuring scent of him. For all that he had kissed her earlier, this seemed to Hermione to be a far more intimate moment.

His hand, hesitantly rubbing up and down her back, brought on a fresh spate of tears mixed with an uncomfortable urge to laugh. He was completely terrible at being comforting, but he was trying so hard just for her.

"You're supposed to tell me . . . tell me how everything is going to be o-okay."

He shifted her slightly, his arms tightening around her. "I also told you that I would tell you the truth."

"Lie to me." It was plea and prayer and desperate wish all rolled together.

Severus' arms loosened from around her until he could push her away from him. Lifting her head, she met his eyes and immediately wished she hadn't. "What did Vector tell you?"

Dropping her head, she spoke to the floor. "She didn't tell me anything. Even though we aren't at Hogwarts, I've been continuing with my Seventh-year Arithmancy project. I was working on the rogue line that was appearing in Vector's equations." She risked a quick glance up at him. "I wasn't getting anywhere so I started playing."

One brow rose. "Playing?"

"Trying different equations, settings . . . people. And the whole matrix shifted." At his nod, she continued. "I didn't even realize what I was seeing at first. It wasn't until Vector panicked that I really took a closer look. The equations were worrying. I could tell something wasn't right, and I started redoing them. I've been working on them for a few days." Her eyes slid away from him and she picked at a knot on the stair tread with one fingernail. "Then you kissed me," she said softly. "You seemed sad rather than happy. You seemed as wrong as the equations. So I went back to them." Hermione brought her gaze back to his, feeling her own eyes tear up again. "Severus, I'm going to kill you."

The words hung between them, sharp-edged and cutting.

Author's Note 3:

*House points to anyone who recognizes where the title comes from without having to break out Google. And yeah, I'm a big nerd. I couldn't help myself.

Author's note 4: I've noticed a trend – all my scenes where Hermione and Snape get close to each other seem to happen on stairs/floors and benches. I'm rather afraid of about what that says about my psyche. Also, there may be those among you that would just like to lock our favorite duo in a closet and let them work it out. Unfortunately, while I don't think Severus has been celibate all these years, I also don't see him as the kind to just leap to the down and dirty. He's the kind that would go slowly into love, by preference and his own heart-broken history. Not to mention Hermione's innocence and youth scares the bejeezus out of him, plus there is that whole "we who are about to die, salute you" attitude he's got going on.