A/N: Hello! Sorry to keep you waiting, but my dear teachers do like to keep me busy… Thanks for all the lovely reviews for chapter one and I hope you like this one…

- CHAPTER TWO -

Breathe

And all you touch and all you see,

Is all your life will ever be.

She sat up, shivering a little, holding frail fingers against her clammy skin, remembering as if it were yesterday how time had seemed to stop in the air between them, how she had reached out, but he had gone too far. She took deep breath and shook herself of the dream that had come back every night since he had gone, then she rolled over and went back to sleep.

She sank into another dream, this time remembering the night only a few weeks ago, when she had seen Snape. It seemed more or less similar to the real events; Snape's long unfathomable gaze at her before her turned on his heel and Disapparated, though now he appeared to be wearing Neville Longbottom's grandmother's clothing, like that boggart they'd encountered with Lupin in their third-year had been forced to assume.

It was only when she woke up again, a few hours later, the dim twilight that filtering through her curtains so that she could see the quietly ticking clock on the wall, that she realised it was her birthday. Another year on and what had she achieved? Still stuck in the life she couldn't escape; a life of loss and unfulfilment. How had she let herself be lost in this mess? Was she the only one who couldn't move on? Even Mrs Weasley, bereft of her husband and her six sons, had begun to make progress. She sighed at her own deduction; how selfish she was to expect her suffering to be the worst, when all she'd lost was her best friend, and soul mate.

Unable to stay in bed with such thoughts, she got up and dressed slowly, swallowing a tablet from the bottle at her bedside. Gently pulling back the curtains on the sky thick with cloud, she stared down across the road beneath her; the building trickle of the Muggle rush-hour and the pigeons gathering in the square to await the appearance of the elderly woman who would spend the early morning feeding them. She sighed again, almost wishing from something extraordinary to happen, to destroy the repetitive, routine life she was living. But past experience had told her that in the wizarding world, extraordinary didn't always mean good.

That was when she noticed a familiar gait striding along the pavement directly below her, though she didn't believe her sense, especially when the buzzer to her flat sounded. She leapt from her place at the window and rushed to the receiver.

"Granger?" a voice muttered into her ear.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"It's Snape," came the quick reply. "Can I come up?"

She hesitated; what did he want? Particularly at this hour in the morning. How did he know she'd be awake? Come to think of it, how did he know where she lived? She hovered her finger for a moment over the button that unlocked the door, and pressed it.

She quickly pushed some of the musty books in her hallway aside, and wiped her hands on her robes, tried to flatten her hair, and gently opened the door when she heard the soft knock. It took what seemed like an age for the door to pass across his face, but eventually it revealed him; his hood down, revealing the same drained face she had seen so briefly in August.

"I'm sorry it's so early," he muttered. She was almost shocked at such an anticlimactic greeting, but then again, what had she wanted him to say?

"It's OK," she replied, "I was already up."

He nodded, his lips tightening. She gestured to the small sitting room coming off the hall.

"Would you like to sit down?"

He sat down in the stiff armchair by the defunct fireplace (though with Hermione's skill at conjuring portable fires, the Muggle definition wasn't really appropriate) and she on the mouldy sofa. He glanced around the room, which was littered with ancient books.

"Nice place you have here," he sneered, oozing with sarcasm.

She felt her cheeks redden. "I have too many old books and not enough money," she sighed, "and everything in my life just seems to accumulate dirt and dust."

He nodded. "I thought you'd say something like that."

"What makes you say that?" she said suddenly.

"I can just imagine what a waste you've made of your life these past eight years; twenty-seven today and what have you achieved?"

She was shocked with how astute his opinion of her was. Was she that transparent? And he knew it was her birthday… "Well you can talk!" she retorted accusatorially, "What have you been doing for the last eight years?"

He ignored her. "Do you not want anything else out of your life? To make something of yourself? To realise your potential? Or will you just waste yourself away to an early grave?"

She stared at him; he had come all this way to find her, only to give her life advice. Surely, this wasn't the Snape she remembered. "What's happened to you?" she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

"Me? I gave up, Granger, I gave up doing what other people wanted me to; gave up being tossed between the two sides, constantly having to put up an act. It was taking years off me. Now I am my own man; I only do what I want now; whether it be seeking out the last of the Dark side, or travelling the globe. No-one can tell me what to do."

"So what do you want me for?"

"There's still one last task I want to do, and I've been looking for an assistant. It was only in August that I realised it could be you." He seemed sincere; she was greatly puzzled by this new Snape.

"You could have told me then! Rather than Disapparating as soon as you saw me," she said indignantly.

"It took some thought," he replied simply. "So? Will you come with me?"

"I can't just leave out of the blue!"

"What have you got to stay for?"

He had a point. Surely going off an 'adventure' with him could be better than waking up every morning in this place. "My friends…" she said meekly.

He smirked. "Come on then."

"Right now? Can't I take anything? Shouldn't I tell someone where I'm going? Where am I going?" She looked bewilderedly at him.

"Stupid girl." He shook his head. "No-one needs to know, and grab some spare robes if you really think you need them."

She ran into her bedroom, grabbing a bag from under her bed and stuffing it with robes, a hairbrush, her toothbrush… She hesitated over her pills, but then threw them in too. Finally, something was going to happen in her life again, maybe it would have dreadful consequences, but right now, it seemed better to her than anything staying here could offer.

A/N: Voilà, c'est tout… Reviews very welcome! Until the next… Oh, and Happy Birthday Hermione!