AN: Thank you, dear readers, for staying with my angsty little tale. May all your angst be in fanfic.

Eyes shinning, she stood in the back of the auditorium, listening to the excited chatter of those around her. There were no seats left, but she had no fear of being seen by the man making his way to center stage. Those left standing were five deep to the wall, and she was short. She peeked out between shoulders and could just make out Snape as he approached the lectern.

She saw his eyes widen as the room burst into applause. He looked utterly discomfited by this reception. Everyone there knew why he had disappeared from the potions community in the years during the Second Wizarding War, and it was obvious they felt his return was long overdue. Their applause rolled across him, nearly buffeting his narrow frame. She watched him open and close his hands and recognized it for the fight or flight response that it was. Oh, lord, this could go tits up. Come on, Severus, you can do it, she thought, mentally pushing positivity towards him across the distance between.

She blew out a breath as he raised his hand for silence and grinned like a loon as he cleared his throat and began. His deep, authoritative voice flowed out across the room...

:

Hermione took a deep breath, set her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked out onto the stage. Her step faltered when she saw the audience, but she caught herself and pasted a determined smile on her face. Setting her notes down on the lectern was a subconscious, mechanical gesture because her mind was absorbed with looking at the faces in the crowd. The small lecture room was nearly empty, and she could plainly see that Snape wasn't there.

Probably still trying to answer the questions of his adoring fans, she thought with a sniff. She'd tried to get his attention at the end of the lecture, tried to wriggle through the tightly-packed crowd to at least let him know she'd been there, but hadn't been able to get within ten feet of him as the throng swallowed him. She'd backed away to the outskirts, struggling with a wave of fear as her latent agoraphobia flared up. she hoped that standing in a clear space would allow him to see her. her. He hadn't. She'd loitered as long as she could but eventually had needed to go prepare for her own lecture. Standing now in her small conference room, with its handful of people, it was hard not to feel resentful.

Trudy flapped her hand at her from the front row, and Bert looked like he was about to jump up onstage and start reading for her. It wasn't until she spied both Sollievo and Lumet waiting patiently for her to begin that it sank in. Snape wasn't the point. Yes, he'd been the distraction that made her look forward to being here—a dazzling distraction, to use his own phrase—but she was here to present her breakthrough, not to earn one man's approval.

Seizing control of her disorderly thoughts, she imagined a point of numbness on the top of her head and let it trickle down her entire body like a Disillusionment Charm, masking her disappointment.

"Welcome," she said with a tight smile. "Thank you for being here." With a tap of her wand on the projector next to her, the first slide appeared on the screen behind her. "As many of you know, merely surviving a direct hit from a variety of curses is not enough to ensure the health and well-being of the victim. Oftentimes the internal damage is such that the subject…"

:

Hermione gathered her notes and bowed graciously, to the smattering of applause. The Q&A after her lecture had gone on far longer than she'd expected, and she was more than pleased with her paper's reception.

Bert scrambled his bulk up onto the stage and hugged her like a proud papa. "And now we drink!" he enthused. "To celebrate! You did fantastic! Did you see Lumet? He was hanging on your every word! You made waves today, my dear. Just you wait and see!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Did you see Hambleton? He was asleep."

Trudy snorted. "That's because you didn't mention avian interstitial fluid once. It's the only reason he attends anyone's lectures, to see if they're stealing his intellectual property. Now, come on, Bert's right. Yours was the last lecture of the day, and you had Lumet and Sollievo actually talking over each other to ask you questions. This was a major coup. You'll be the talk of the cocktail hour."

"I doubt that," she said petulantly.

"True, your Mr. Snape stole a good bit of everyone's thunder," Bert said, "but it was a rather remarkable presentation. You can't deny him that. It didn't take a genius to see that a good bit of the data was sampled from personal experience. The poor sod." Bert shook his head, but then seemed to shrug off the disturbing images from the slide show. "Still, there's nothing wrong with being second best your first time out. Once the dust settles, you'll find yourself with a frenetic consulting schedule. That alone is reason to celebrate."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "True. All right then, you two go on ahead. I have to grab my things."

With a wave, they headed for the exit as she started pulling her slides from the projector. She turned toward the back of the stage and jumped. Snape was leaning against the wall holding her handbag up in two long fingers.

He looked different somehow. He was still swaddled in black, still long and lean, and his hair was about the same length that she remembered. There were a few strands of silver in it—their wild texture making them standout against the rest of it—and his face was even more etched than before, but there was something else different about him that she couldn't readily identify. His manner was stiff, but not the self-aware, uncomfortable stiff she'd come to see as normal after that terrible night. It was the former, superior stiffness that always managed to get up her nose.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello, to you," he replied in a quiet voice. "You were brilliant, as I always expected."

She frowned and reached out to take her bag, quickly stuffing her things in. "Always? I seem to remember you constantly telling me I was hopelessly foolish." The words came of their own accord and she stared down at the floor, knowing she'd been petty but determined to at least not squirm with shame.

"You never ceased to amaze me with your capacity to be foolish," he replied snidely. "However, there was no escaping the fact that you were gifted. I hardly would have taken you on as an apprentice had that not been the case."

The frosty tone in his voice, along with his supercilious attitude, threw her emotions into turmoil. "Why didn't you ever tell me that?" she said with no small amount of hurt and exasperation. "Why let me think that the only reason you took me on was to pay back the debt you owed Minerva for saving you?"

He scowled at her, his eyes flashing. "The only reason I took on an apprentice was to get Minerva off my back, that much is true, but do you really think I would have taken you on had I found a reason to disqualify you? Do you really think I wanted to saddle myself with one of the bloody Golden Trio for two more years after finally being rid of the lot of you? You had to have been the best candidate. How could you have doubted it?" He scoffed and waved a hand imperiously. "You never did take the time to think things through to their logical conclusion. You were always too busy proving how good you were at regurgitating facts to think for yourself."

"I was trying to prove myself to you!"

"Why? I had already chosen you! Why on earth would you waste your energy in such a way?"

"Because I respected you!"

"Now you're just lying," he said with a sneer.

"No, I'm not! When have you ever known me to lie?"

"Let's see, there was that one time after being nearly killed by a troll…"

"Don't go there! I was twelve!"

He spun away and dragged a hand through his lank hair. "I'm making a hash of this," he snapped. His face angled back over his shoulder towards her, offering her an unobstructed view of his awful profile. "I just wanted to tell you I was… proud. Your work is truly brilliant."

She blew out a breath and reached up and unclasped her own hair from its confines, taking a moment to gather her wild emotions. "Thank you," she said in a soft voice. The acoustics of the room carried it far. "That really does mean a lot." He turned back to her slowly, and she gave him a timid smile. "I had a brilliant teacher."

"So you did," he said with a ghost of a smile. "I shall bask in reflected glory."

She snorted. "Bask in your own glory. How is it you never told me you were The Severus Snape? Based on what I saw when you finished your lecture, you even have groupies."

He scowled. "Perhaps because I didn't know I was The Severus Snape. Most of these people wouldn't have given me the time of day before. My last lecture drew half the people that came to yours and nowhere near the number of notables in the field. I suspect my new-found fame has more to do with being an infamous spy than a potioner."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just being petty."

He tilted his head to the side. "Why?" he asked.

She scrunched up her nose. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for years, and when it finally arrives, my own mentor stole my thunder." She shrugged, embarrassed. "Like I said, petty."

"Now you're being foolish again," he said in a kind voice. "Tomorrow's lecture by Sollievo will probably make everyone forget about both of us. That's the way it works."

She grimaced, scrubbing her hand through her hair again. "So it is," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I am very glad you came. Were you standing back there the whole time?"

"Yes. I was of a mind to wish you luck, but was… delayed. I didn't want to make an entrance and disrupt your lecture, so I crept in the back way."

Mentally pushing all of the unpleasantness aside, she asked the question that had been foremost in her mind since that owl had landed on her window sill and shattered her foolish day dreams. "How are you?"

His lips compressed into something that was caught between a scowl and a smile. "I'm very well, thank you."

"Good. That's good to hear. May I ask where you're working now? Or is that—am I being intrusive?" Belatedly realizing how destructive their sniping at each other could have been she suddenly panicked. "I hope I haven't—I didn't mean to—oh, gods. I shouldn't have snapped at you at all. I'm so sorry! I should have been more mindful of your… boundaries. No doubt even talking together probably isn't good for you at all…"

"No! Not at all." He grimaced and stepped forward, lifting an arm and then dropping it back to his side. "I'm… better. Is that even the right word?"

"Stronger?" she supplied, remembering her own journey.

"Resilient," he countered.

"Oh, that's a good one!"

He gave her a small smile, gesturing toward the exit. "Perhaps you would let me escort you to the cocktail hour as a demonstration, so to speak."

She blinked and smiled. "I'd like that very much." With a nod, she let him lead her off the small stage.

"As to your question, I have been working in Bulgaria."

She jerked to a stop. "You moved to Bulgaria? So far?"

Her face must have reflected the terrible thoughts this brought to mind, because he stopped, shaking his head slowly. "It wasn't you, Hermione. It was me. And it was a good move. I made a lot of changes in my life and all of them for the better. I work exclusively in research now but still travel to London quite frequently."

She smiled, hoping it conveyed her support and understanding. "Are you still seeing Yolanda?"

He smirked. "Less often. I check in with her once a month now. Just to make sure I'm on track."

She snorted, remembering her own reluctance to end her therapy. "It's a bit like trying to kick a habit, isn't it?" Her flippant words belatedly made her cringe. "I mean—that is—"

"It's an apt observation," he said with a snort.

She sagged with relief. "I'm sorry I'm so awkward. I… I feel like I'm sprinting through a minefield but you're the one that will get hurt."

"Don't—" He sighed and shook his head. "I wish… you wouldn't feel like that."

She shrugged. "I'll do my best. That's all I can promise. Come on, i'll buy you a drink."

Looking self-conscious but determined, he said, "I don't drink."

She let that potential conversation fly past and gestured toward the door. "Tea, then."

"Coffee would be welcome," he replied, leading the way off the small stage.

They fell into an intensely uncomfortable silence as they made their way to the end-of-day cocktail party in one of the smaller banquet rooms of the hotel. The mirrors and paintings on the walls were an easy distraction from the fact that she couldn't think of a single thing to say. On the outside, the building looked like a derelict warehouse leftover from the communist era. However, inside it was opulent. The Wizarding community in Romania was enthusiastic about indulging guests and loved to throw a party, so a party was thrown every night. The cocktail hour at the end of each day's lectures was only the beginning of an entire night's festivities.

As soon as they entered the room, there was an excited flurry of movement, and Hermione cast a panicked look at Snape as they were surrounded. She was physically pulled away from him by the elbow, and turned to see Henri Lumet, one of her intellectual idols, smiling broadly at her. "I 'ave so very many more questions for you, Madam. Please, a moment of your time?"

A glass of cordial was placed in her hand, it smelled of cherries, and she barely managed a last look over her shoulder before she was whisked away to a relatively quiet part of the room. All that could be seen of Snape was the back of his head as the crowd closed around him

:

Hungry, frazzled and more than a bit tired, Hermione finally made her way into the main banquet room and nearly ran for the buffet table. She loaded her plate with one of everything and then turned to find a place to sit. She spotted Snape right away, easy to pick out in all that black. He was sitting stiffly, refilling a glass with mineral water, while two women chattered away at him on either side.

Bert caught her eye with his mad gesticulating, and she smiled and headed across the room, toward the empty seat next to him.

"There you are! Must be nice, eh? The hottest up-and-comer in the industry? I saw Lumet home in on you, and Sollievo was practically dancing from foot to foot to get your attention! Congratulations, Hermione. You made it."

She snorted. "So it would seem, but what have I made?"

Trudy laughed and leaned across Bert's plate to say, "Waves, my dear. You made waves."

"Yes, but they all want to know what I am working on next as if they expect me to pull a rabbit out of my ear. It's a little disturbing, to say the least."

"Don't worry about that now," Bert said with a smile. "You should be proud. You have raised the bar, not just for yourself, but for all of St. Mungo's as well."

She shook her head. "Yes, well, excuse me while I concentrate on raising my fork."

She hunched over and began shoveling food in.

An hour later, she was kicked back in her chair patting her full belly and sipping on another glass of vişinată. The thick cordial was made from sour cherries and plum brandy and it was insanely good. After she'd declined a dance, Bert had swept Trudy out onto the floor, and Hermione laughed, watching her colleagues mangle a rumba. She tilted her head to the side, watching Snape in an animated discussion with DiFranco from Torino. She smiled. Her mentor seemed confident when he spoke, not quite relaxed, but she couldn't detect any anxiety lurking in his expression. She smirked at his reaction when DiFranco said something Snape obviously didn't agree with. The way he pulled his head back and flared his nostrils was an old, familiar expression of thinly veiled contempt. DiFranco began gesticulating wildly and Snape turned his head away with a sigh. When he saw her, he rolled his eyes ,and she lifted her hand to her mouth to smother a giggle. He smirked and returned to his conversation.

A glass of wine was placed before her as the chair next to her was pulled out. She turned, still smiling, to offer thanks, but froze as Daniël Asquith, her former research partner, dropped into the seat beside her.

"So," he slurred, lifting the glass of wine he still held. "Shall we toast?"

She kept her hands folded in her lap and just eyed the man.

"No? You won't join me? Then I shall toast alone." Lifting his glass higher, he shouted. "To intellectual property and those that steal it!"

Hermione pulled his arm down. "You're making a fool of yourself, Daniël. I didn't steal anything, and you know it. If you hadn't been sandbagging the whole time we worked together, we could have presented that paper together last year."

"That was my work!" he snapped.

"No, it wasn't! It was mine, based on my expansion of your original findings, and I gave you every credit where it was due! I owed you nothing more. If you hadn't been so busy resting on your skinny laurels, you would have seen where you could have taken your findings further!"

He scowled at her, his face turning a mottled red, and leaned in to hiss in her face. "They all think I'm a has-been now because of you!"

Hermione tsked in disgust and stood up. "This conversation is over."

As she was turning away, she caught Asquith's quick movement from the corner of her eye. She spun around as he snatched his wand out of his sleeve. All conscious thought stopped. One moment, he was intoning a curse, the next, he was being blown backward, chair and all. The red streak of his curse flew wide of the silvery-blue glow that covered her from head to toe.

It took several heartbeats before her mind processed it all.

She'd done it.

Presented with a threat, she'd reacted on instinct. Her wand had been drawn and her silent Reducto sent flying while the man's curse had still been just a red glow on the tip of his wand. And yet… someone else had reacted just as quickly.

She blinked at her wand, seeing her fingers encased in an unfamiliar Protective Charm so strong she could actually feel it. It was as if she'd been wrapped in a sizzling satin. She saw the thick rope of spell-tendril leading away from her shoulder and followed it with her eyes across the room to where it originated. Snape was still aiming his continuous spell at her, but his face was a twisted mask of murderous rage as he stared at Asquith crumpled against the wall. Even as she watched, the spell grew stronger, the blue overtaking the silver, the feeling of silk growing thicker against her skin.

The stunned silence in the room came to an abrupt end as Robyn Praet, Asquith's research assistant, came bustling over. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jordan! I was afraid something like this was going to happen. He's been so angry, and I knew he'd been drinking too much. I only let him out of my sight for just a moment. Are you alright?"

People all started shouting at once, some calling for the Aurors, while others jostled for proximity to her so they could cast Diagnostic Charms. None of them worked with Snape's shield encasing her. Trudy bustled up, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulder and giving a yelp at the static-charged pop she received. "I think she's safe now, Mr. Snape," she said in an unsteady voice. Bert was suddenly there between Hermione and Asquith, spinning in circles as he tried to keep his eyes on the unconscious researcher while checking to see that Hermione was all right at the same time.

"Are you hurt at all, my dear?" Bert said in the middle of another pirouette. "Of course you're aren't. You handled yourself marvelously. I must say I always had trouble reconciling the brilliant young researcher I know with the stories of daring do from your youth, but plainly, you have always been more than meets the eye." He gestured across the room. "And so is our Mr. Snape."

"I'm fine," she replied. Snape was still staring at Asquith, plainly struggling with his fury. The two women who had been his dinner companions were saying something to him in stridently soothing tones that appeared to have no effect.

"Severus?" Hermione called. She called him twice more before he finally turned his head and met her eyes. His rage changed to an expression of concern and then morphed into something far more stark that felt like it knifed through her soul. He canceled his Protective Charm with a flick. The two women danced out of his way as he took several steps toward her, but he was still more than ten feet away when he stopped. His face turned an alarming shade of pale before he spun on his heel and headed for the door.

Hermione started after him, hampered by the many concerned and caring people around her. She tried to be reassuring and polite, but as the last black scrap of Snape's robes flicked out of sight around the doorway, she began batting at them. "Excuse me, yes, I'm fine, I'm sorry, I need to—Please!" she finally cried. "I must speak to Severus!" With a last, helpless gesture begging for forgiveness, she turned and ran in the direction her mentor had gone.

She gained the hallway and spun in a circle, looking for him. One of the many gilded mirrors on the wall showed a hint of black down the corridor disappearing through the door to the stairs leading up toward the guest rooms. She darted after it, lifting the hem of her business robes and tossing decorum to the floor. She threw open the door and cried, "Severus, wait!" When there was no response, she raced up the stairs. The carpeting on the stairs muffled sound, but the soft thumps she heard ahead of her, always around the next turn, never grew closer. Taking them two at a time didn't seem to gain her any advantage. By the time she reached the landing leading to the seventh floor, she had a stitch in her side and was gasping for air. She clung to the rail, panting. Somewhere ahead of her, she heard a door bang open and snick shut. Sucking in a lungful of air, she pushed off and stumbled up the last flight. Throwing her weight against the fire door, she shoved it open and tumbled out into the open air. Before her—right before her—was a majestic view of Budapest in all its glory. Vertigo made the city swim as she threw herself back and slammed up against the closed door behind her.

"You're useless! Utterly and completely useless!" Snape's snarl came from somewhere beyond the corner of wall by her left shoulder. "Come on, come on!"

Caught between her terror of heights and the necessity to make sure he was alright, she sidled along the short wall, prying her eyes off the terrifying view long enough to peek around the edge.

Severus was standing in the center of the flat roof, throttling a cranberry-red mobile phone. He shoved it up in the air only to pull it back and whack it against his hand several times. "Why is there no bloody signal? I'm outside, for fuck's sake!"

"Severus?" she called, belatedly aware that perhaps she shouldn't have been running after him if he was in such a state. "Are you alright?"

He spun around and gurgled a half hysterical laugh. "Do I fucking look alright?"

She shook her head. "No. You don't look alright at all." She slid around the corner, keeping her back pressed against the cinder-block wall, fighting the panic caused by the view. She kept her eyes on the rooftop, inching her way sideways as she said, "Please let me help."

"Help? Your the bloody problem!"

The anguish in his voice dissolved her fear of heights, replacing it with devastation. Her voice sounded thin and quavery as she cried, "But you said it wasn't me! Just earlier, you told me you were strong now!"

"But that was before!" He took two steps closer and stopped, seeming to shrink in on himself as he struggled with his robes, trying to find a pocket to shove his phone into. "I'd made peace with myself. I thought I had. I don't know." He gave up, his arms flailing wide, the mobile still clutched in his hand. "I had. But then—" He jabbed the phone in the vague direction of the banquet several floors below. "Hermione, the only reason why I came here was to see you. I cobbled together that insipid paper so I could attract your notice. Don't you see? You're my last demon to slay. I've come to an understanding with myself about my past and my parents and my faults—and even bloody Lily Evans. It was my hope that I was finally strong enough to do the same with you." He stared down at his hand as if wondering why he was still holding the phone and then carefully shoved it in his breast pocket. He sighed and stared down at his feet. "I don't give a damn about the conference or the opinions of any of these wankers. I wanted to see you. I thought, perhaps, I could just… get to know you. Learn to just be this friend that you wanted."

She pushed off the wall and hurried closer. "Severus, wait. Listen—"

He backed away, flailing his arm to keep her at a distance. "Let me speak!" Scrubbing his face with his hands, he continued. "But I can't be friends, can I?" He dropped his hands and looked at her, his expression an open wound. "I can't get over you." Staring up at the sky, he curled his hands into fists. "What I've done, how I feel... I thought I could function around it now. I've had so many years of practice loving a woman from afar. I thought… I was content with my lot, fully accepting that what I want cannot be, but now I've been forced to face facts! It's all stuff and nonsense! That bastard tried to hurt you! Don't you understand what happened tonight? He could have killed you! I almost lost you! My carefully constructed contentment depends on you being alive. If something were to happen to you… How can I ever be sure you're safe? You see? It's madness! I can't keep you safe!"

"You don't have to!" She stood up straight, balling her hand and thumping it against her chest. "Do you understand what happened tonight? I saved myself! That was my worst nightmare come true—a man popping up out of the blue to to curse me again—and I saved myself!" She spread her hands, gesturing to the world around them. "You can't keep me safe, Severus, but you don't have to. I can."

A small, bittersweet smile crept across his features as he tilted his head to the side. "And so you did," he said in a quiet voice. "You didn't need me at all. You were marvelous. But then, you always were. Marvelous and strong and dazzlingly bright." He shrugged. "I've been deluding myself into thinking I was anywhere near your league. What a fool I've made of myself."

"No, don't say such things. Severus—"

"It's true," he said. "I came here to learn to be a friend and instead I've shown you, yet again, how pathetic I am. Not that my last correspondence didn't spell it out clearly enough. I can only imagine it was unpleasant to find out how… attached I'd become to you, when all you'd been interested in was friendship."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and blurted, "You have crap hair."

He froze, looking deeply affronted. "What?"

"You're hair. It's really horrid. And your nose is just… tragic."

His eyes flew wide as one of his hands covered the center of his face. "What the hell are you on about?" he snapped.

"I have something important to tell you and I thought you might want some reassurances that I'm not cursed first. I also think your teeth are horrible. My parents were dentists, you know, and teeth are something I pay particular attention to. Yours are—"

His eyebrows snapped down. "Yes, I get the gist now. Let's not flog the point before we get to it."

She walked across the rooftop until there was only two paces left between them. "Severus, if your peace of mind depends on staying a thousand miles away from me, then a thousand miles away I will stay. The last thing I would ever want is to cause you more pain and suffering. I will abide by whatever your wishes are. But I want you to have all the facts before you decide. I don't want to be your friend." She threw a hand up as the blood drained from his face, and shook her head. "It wouldn't be enough for me. I want more." Black eyes went round and his lips parted ever so slightly as she continued. "I've fallen in love with you so many times and in so many ways I've lost count. It seems with you I've felt nearly every texture and every flavor of attraction possible. Despite everything I'd been through and how terrible that night was for both of us, there were certain things I couldn't push out of my mind. Your smile. Your tenderness. The vulnerability you let me see. I finally saw the wonderful person you'd been hiding from the world, and as much as I needed to move beyond that night, I couldn't really let that man go. The ghost of what was possible with you ruined my marriage. Every day I was forced to admit that Lee paled in comparison to those few glimpses I was given of who you really were. I was crushed when you told me those glimpses were nothing more than a drug-induced fraud. When you started popping up at my door, it didn't take long for me to be the one struggling with the depth of my regard. I had no reason to believe you would even remotely welcome my attentions in that way. Why would you after what had happened between us? When you didn't show up that night, I was furious with myself. I thought I had somehow pushed you away, or disgusted you by wanting more than a pleasant acquaintance. And then you sent me that letter..."

She shrugged, swiping at the tears forming in her eyes. "You're not the only one who had an ulterior motive in coming to Budapest. I was running out of ways to back out of this damned conference until I saw you were on the program, and then it was as if nothing could keep me away. You say you came here to just be my friend? We'll, I don't want that. I want more." She took a deep breath and blew it out. "Now, as I said, if your recovery depends on keeping clear boundaries between us, then I completely understand. I will wish you love and luck in all your endeavors, and we'll each go our own way." She lifted her chin and bunched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "However, if you want—if you feel we have even a small chance—"

A broken gurgle of a cry escaped him and he clapped both hands to his mouth to stifle it. "Oh, Hermione…" he said softly. "Please don't say these things if you don't mean it. It would be a cruelty even I don't deserve..."

She swallowed thickly and tilted her chin up further. "I'm telling you the truth. I love you, Severus Snape."

The wind tossed his lank hair into his face. When the changing gust blew it out of the way again, she saw tears streaming from his eyes. Rather than the happiness she'd expected, he looked lost. "I don't know what to do next," he said.

She raised her arms. "Maybe we could start with a hug?"

He shook his head and stepped back. "Hermione, this is just... Stockholm Syndrome. You can't feel this way after what I did to you."

"Oh, bullshit. I've had years to process my feelings for you and I know what I'm feeling is real. I fancy you, Severus. You're smart and caring and proud. You're incredibly loyal, and you have an ungodly wit. Whenever I see you my heart skips a beat, my thoughts scatter like dried leaves, and I find I can't even breathe right. I want you. I want to be with you."

His sad expression deepened into one of profound sorrow. "I might hurt you again. I couldn't bear it."

"And I might hurt you. If we're to have a chance, then we have to risk getting hurt. Terribly hurt. The past between us is full of broken glass, and I don't see how we can navigate a future without at least a few cuts. But I think, if we take it slowly and really communicate what we're feeling or thinking on a day-to-day basis, then we could make it work. I'm willing to try. It's all or nothing now. There's no pretending we don't know how we feel about each other." She sighed, seeing her words had little effect on his forlorn expression. "I don't want you to feel pressured. Take some time to think about it if you need to. I will respect and abide by your needs. I just wanted you to know all the facts before you committed yourself to a conclusion."

The silence stretched longer before he swiped angrily at his eyes and straightened up. "You do realize I'm never going to be particularly well-wrapped, don't you?"

"Were you ever?"

He paused, his expression turning inward, but then he shook his head and replied, "No."

"Don't you think you're far better wrapped these days than you were before?"

"Yes, but I'm hardly a good judge of my own sanity, am I?"

"What does Yolanda say?"

He took a deep breath and let it out. "She's repeatedly stated that I have made great strides and she is very proud of the work I've done on putting my past to rest. She knew my plans in coming here and agreed it was time you and I sat down and talked about the past. I doubt she had any idea that there would be talk of a future."

"So there is going to be more talk about a future?"

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Do you really love me?"

She closed the distance between them, stopping when the hem of her gown brushed his boots. "Yes. I do."

His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned down, touching his forehead to hers. "Hermione, I would… very much like to have a future with you."

She sighed, nearly collapsing from the relief. "Good," she said inanely. "Excellent." She reached over and took his hand, wrapping her fingers around it and giving it a little squeeze. "That's a grand start. There's no rush. We can let this understanding sit a bit and talk more later. Or even tomorrow, after a good night's rest. There's plenty of time to think things over, no rush. I don't want you to feel pressured."

He grimaced and tugged on her hand, drawing her closer. She could see the glint of wild emotions in his eyes. Lifting her other hand, she stroked it down the side of his face and felt him shudder under her touch. She sighed as he tenderly took her into his arms and dipped his head down. His lips met hers in the gentlest of caresses, once, twice, before he slanted them across hers and deepened it. The tiniest sob escaped her as he pulled her closer and tightened his arms around her.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his cheek against her temple, crushing her against him. "Oh, Christ, Hermione. I've wanted to do that for such a long time."

She nodded, her hands fisted in his robes. "Me too," she whispered.

When she pulled back and looked up at him, she saw tears caught on his lashes. She raised her hands and swiped at them with her thumbs, and he snorted softly. "I'm afraid I do that rather easily these days," he said with obvious discomfort. "It's a byproduct of demon slaying."

"You don't have to explain. I think they're beautiful."

He gave a quiet, scornful laugh. "That would make them my best feature then."

Scowling she shook her head. "Don't do that. I happen to be very fond of all your features. As unconventional as they can seem at first, they grew on me a long time ago."

His eyes softened, and he smiled at her warmly, lifting a hand and stroking it through her hair. "This hardly seems real. Say it again."

"I love you."

He smiled then. A small, timid curve of his lips slowly blossomed into an open, honest, heart-on-his-sleeve smile as he wrapped his arms tighter around her and rested his chin on her forehead. "I've won," he said in a voice filled with wonder and marvel.

"We won," she replied.

He kissed her brow and pulled back. "I will make you so very happy, Hermione. I promise."

"I know you will."

"I'll do everything in my power to please you. You'll never hear a cross word from me. Ever."

"Yes, I will. Probably before the day is out."

He frowned. "No, you won't."

"Severus, even people that love each other get on each other's nerves on occasion."

"I'm different."

"Well, that goes without saying, but you cant start out making unrealistic promises."

He set his jaw, mulishly. "It's not unrealistic."

"It certainly is!"

He scrunched up his face. "Do you want me to bark at you?"

"I want you to be yourself."

His snort was elegant, as was his eye-roll. "Oh, yes, because that's always worked out splendedly for me."

She leaned up on her toes and kissed his frown. He kissed her back, a slow, gentle kiss full of tender promise. "Let's just be us for now," she said when they broke apart. "because I rather like who you really are."

He smiled again, that smile that made her heart feel as if it wanted to burst with joy. "Alright," he said in a quiet voice. "I'll follow your lead. You've more experience in these things."

"Yes, well, my experience led to divorce. I fear we're a bit like the blind leading the lame."

"I thought it was the lame leading the blind."

She flicked her hand in the air. "Whichever it is, slow and steady is the way to go."

"Indeed," he said. "We should take our time. As you said, now that there is a possibility of an us, then rushing things would be counter productive, given the nature of our past."

"Exactly," she said, beaming at him. "No rush."

He stroked a finger along her cheek, his eyes glowing with a smile. "One day at a time."

"We have all the time in the world..."

:

Hermione's breath rushed out in a whoosh as her back hit the wall. His lips left her neck with a wet smack, and he darted a worried look at her face. "Alright?" he asked, panting.

She nodded and continued attacking the knots of his cravat. "Don't stop," she urged.

He returned to her neck, dragging his lips closer to the swell of her bosom. One hand left the curve of her hip to explore the luscious curve of her arse.

She started in on his robes only to stop. He reacted to her stillness at once, his hand flew off her rump as his head snapped up. He stared at her, worried. "Too much?"

"No. Not at all. I just figured out what was different about you." she said with a grin. "Severus, where did all your buttons go?"

His eyes crinkled up as he popped the four buttons on his robes with one hand and shrugged out of them. "I didn't need them anymore," he said.

She gave him a smiled filled with giddy wonder and said, "That's... that's so marvelous!"

His chest swelled with pride. Pride and triumph and love and joy and a sense of wonderment so incredible that it almost, almost, kept him from checking her pupils.

Again.

"Kiss me," she said in a breathy voice that went straight to his groin. He did. Kissing Hermione was like feasting on magic's source itself and he never wanted to stop.

She started in on his waistcoat, only three buttons, when a knock on the door made them both freeze.

She cleared her throat. "Who's there?" she called.

"Hermione? It's Trudy. I came to see if you're alright."

"Shit." she muttered under her breath. "Give me a moment," she murmured. He nodded and reached down to snatch up his robes and stepped out of view of the door. She patted at her hair, a futile gesture of ever there was one, and opened it a crack."

"Are you alright?" the other woman asked. "Bert and I have been looking for you everywhere. Did you find Snape?"

"Yes, ah, yes I did. I'm fine. He's fine. We're all fine. Everything's fine. Thank you. Sorry to have worried you."

Snape rolled his eyes. The love of his life would have made a lousy spy.

"Darling," the other woman said with humor in her voice, "are you aware your lipstick is all over your face?"

Hermione swiped at her lips, while Snape, standing just off to the side, scrubbed at his mouth with the sleeve of his robes.

"Is it? Imagine that. Well, I've had a long day. I think I'll go to bed now."

"I bet you will," was the amused reply.

"Good night, Trudy. Thank you for checking up on me."

"Good night. Glad you're... alright."

The other woman's giggle could be heard long after Hermione closed her hotel room door with a firm thump.

She turned around, her lip caught firmly in her teeth. The fiery glow of passion had dimmed in her eyes, replaced with worry. The effect was akin to a good dousing with ice water.

He sighed and snapped out his robes to put them back on. "We jumped the gun, didn't we?"

"A bit, yes," she said.

"My apologies. I... lost control."

Tracing her lips with her finger tips she said, "So did I."

"This is all so," he waved a hand, encompassing her, himself, the large bed, and his new world in general, "surreal."

She smiled, nodding. "I've never had a dream come true before," she said.

"What about winning the war?"

She frowned. "That was a nightmare ending. Not the same at all."

"True." He re-buttoned his waistcoat before fixing his cuffs. Slanting a look up at her through his hair, he couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you've dreamt of me?"

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. "Yeah," she said. "I did. A lot."

He hugged her close. "As did I." He flicked a hand at the bed. "This..." He sighed. "This part of it is bound to be problematic. We were foolish to have rushed."

She shrugged. "True, but the rushing was very thrilling."

He chuckled.

"And I have to admit," she said, lifting her head to give him a secretive little smile, "I spent a good deal of time dreaming about that part of it."

He breath rushed out of him, leaving him dizzy. "Did you...?"

She caught her lip in her teeth and nodded. "To be completely honest, and honesty is the best way to go here, despite how wretched that night was, you were still the best lover I've ever had."

A strangled squeak escaped his chest. "Hermione..."

"I know," she said, flapping a hand and taking a step back. "It's not rational, but there it is."

He snorted, pulling her close again. "You, me, and rational don't seem capable of fitting under the same roof."

She giggled but her expression grew serious again. "Do you think there's a chance of us escaping that night?"

"I'd like to think we already have."

She smiled at him, nodding. "Good. Because there were certain aspects of it I would very much like to... analyze."

For several heartbeats, he forgot how to breathe. "Certainly, um, ah, anything in particular?"

She blushed crimson but nodded. "That first part, you know, when you...ah..."

All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his crotch, leaving him lightheaded. "Yes, I know which part you mean."

"What about you?" she asked. "Was there a part you liked best before, you know, it all turned into a lie?"

He swallowed with difficulty and cleared his throat. "The wall."

"The wall?"

"When you ran me into the wall. I actually rather liked that. And just about every millisecond that came after." He grimaced. "Until it all turned into a lie..."

She gave him a look that left his blood burning in his veins and nudged him until he bumped up against the wall behind him.

"We're going to rush things again, aren't we?" he said. "Please tell me we're going to rush things again."

She nodded and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. "I'm afraid we are..."

:

"There! Right there! Gods, yes, just like that! Oh!"

Severus was nearly demented with his need to come, the effort to stave off his own release made his molars grind and his eyes cross, but he tilted his hips the way she needed and continued pounding away until, with a delicious quivering and a decadent, husky wail, she finally broke apart beneath him. As she arched her back and shuddered against him, he began to babble, "Beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Christ, I love when you cry out for me like that. My beauty, my love... fuck, gods, yesssss..." His climax, too long denied, slipped from his control, and he groaned, long and loud as he filled her. "Hermione," he whispered as he crushed her to the bed.

He tried to roll off her but she clasped her arms around his sweat-soaked back and held him in place as he tried to calm his pounding heart. He rolled anyway, dragging her with him and kissing her between panting breaths. "I love you," he gasped out.

"I know," she said with a contented sigh as she settled her body along his. When their breathing evened out, she shoved up on an elbow and reached across him to grab the bottle of mineral water, stopping to kiss his chest on the way. She took a long drink, and he watched in spent arousal as a trickle of water escaped and ran down her chin to mix with the sweat on her neck. He wanted to lick it away but was too sated to move. She offered him the bottle, and, as he drank, flicked her hair to the side and pointed to the clock. "We missed Lumet's presentation."

"He's a wanker anyway," he said with a smirk, setting the bottle back on the bedside table.

She rolled her eyes. "So you've always said, but he does give a good presentation."

He reached up and pulled her back down, reveling in the way she sprawled bonelessly against his chest with a contented sigh. "You said the same about Sollievo last night but didn't seem inclined to leave the bed when I prodded you this morning."

She raised her head and gave him a deliciously wicked grin. "I had my priorities straight. Speaking of which, you had said you'd promised DiFranco that you'd attend his lecture. That starts in twenty minutes."

Running his hand along the curve of her arse and up her spine, he urged her closer for a kiss. When they finally broke apart, he drawled, "To hell with DiFranco. To hell with all of them. I also have my priorities in order and you give a much, much better presentation."

She giggled and dragged the sheet up over their cooling bodies with a happy sigh. "I don't remember ever being this happy before," she said.

Her words, her beautiful, beautiful words, stung tears from his eyes, and he gathered her up into his arms and replied, "I've waited a lifetime to feel this way."

She cradled his face in her slender hands, and looked deep into his eyes for a long moment before leaning down and giving him a long, languid kiss. He wondered how long it would be before he stopped noting the size of her pupils before he kissed her back.

"Come on then! Let's get a move on," Bert hollered.

Hermione dragged her suitcase behind her as she made her way through the lobby to where Bert, Trudy and the four research assistants were all waiting just outside. He held up an old, plastic petrol canister that had been turned into a Portkey. She looked around, stomach in knots, and when she saw Severus leaning against the wall, she nearly sagged to the floor.

"Just a moment!" she called to them, leaving her suitcase behind and rushing over to him. "You waited," she said, throwing her arms around him. "Gods, I thought I'd missed you…" She sank into his embrace , tossing their decision to keep a lid on things to the winds.

"I would never leave you without a farewell again."

She sighed, breathing in his scent. "I don't like this," she whispered. "I'm afraid if I let go, something terrible will happen and I'll lose you again. We've only had the two days. It's not fair. Bulgaria is so far away."

He lifted her chin with a gentle finger. "I'll be in London next week," he said softly. "And you have my address and my number."

"I should never have got rid of my mobile," she hissed for the tenth time. "I'll get another as soon as I'm home."

"Then we will be able to talk that much sooner."

She smiled, knowing it wobbled crookedly on her face. "You promise?"

He smiled at her, and then his dark eyes scanned the lobby quickly before he kissed her. It was short and intense and full of promises. "Go," he said quietly.

"Right," she said with a sigh. She leaned up and kissed him one more time before darting back to her suitcase. With a last, longing look, she darted out the doors to where her colleagues were muttering, chortling, and only just beginning to take the piss.

:

Severus watched her whirl out of sight and then gently pressed his fingertips to the tender pain in his chest her departure caused. Two days, technically thirty-nine hours, since she'd told him she cared for him and wanted a future together. He felt the stirrings of old madnesses—the desire to go after her, to keep an eye on her, the fear of something dark ruining everything—but he pushed them all away, knowing them for what they were, ghosts of the past.

He had gambled everything he'd gained on the chance of just a friendship, and walked off with a bigger prize than he'd thought possible. That was worth holding on to every scrap of hard-earned sanity. He couldn't squander this gift life had given him with foolish insecurities. Instead, he would be the best person he was capable of being so he could spend the rest of his life making her happy.

He picked up his valise and headed out the door himself, stopping to pull out his phone. He sent a quick text message, and then Apparated away.

Yolanda Peeples was finishing her morning tea before heading off to the shower when her business mobile chimed with a message. Picking it up, she read the words 'I won it all,' and pressed her fingertips against her smile. Shaking her head, she set her phone down and went to start her day.

:

AN: