Disclaimer:- I neither own nor earn anything from this story except my plot (and even that was someone else's idea this time), anything you recognise is the property of JK Rowling and Associates.

sSs

A/N:- This story is written from a prompt given to me by BeccaLister, it is her story idea written in my words. It will be complete in several chapters and is primarily a HG/SS love story. There will be Ron bashing and the mention of a HP/LL/DM threesome. The lovely picture I've used for the book cover for this story is not mine. If you own it tell me, I would love to credit you. I hope you enjoy…

hHh

Chapter One – Why?

The silence was deafening. Harry lowered his wand, and it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Everyone stopped; Molly was still panted slightly after her efforts to dispatch Bellatrix. The look of surprise on Voldemort's face as Harry's curse hit him was comical.

Abruptly reality started to filter back in, and people started to move. That reality for Hermione Granger saw her sprinting, eyes panning the grounds for trouble as she ran. The war was won, and now she needed to finish saving him. Sliding to her knees, ignoring her burning lungs, the mud stains marring her already dirty jeans and the feeble attempts of the injured Whomping Willow to repel her; she entered the tunnel that led back to the Shrieking Shack. Scrambling out the other end, she stumbled to her feet and raced to the petrified wizard in black, lying on the dirty floor in a pool of his own blood.

She'd known she had to go with Harry and Ron, and this had torn at her heart. She couldn't stand by and watch this wizard die, he was too important. So, thinking quickly –as she often had to—she pulled the strongest Pain Potion she had out of her beaded bag and tipped it down his spluttering throat. She placed a bezoar in his mouth and cast, "Petrificus Totalus," and watched a moment, satisfied, as his life force ceased to leak from him. Hermione bit her lip, and ignored the warning in his eyes as she took off after her friends. Now the battle was over, all she had to do was get him to help.

The Anti-Apparition barrier was still breeched, crumbling with the rest of the ailing castle's defences. Hermione sighed, and simply avoided meeting his stormy black gaze as she hugged his stiff form to her and disapparated away to St. Mungos, landing in the foyer of the Wizarding hospital. It was here that Hermione Granger put her best asset into action, her bossiness, and she would not let Severus Snape go until they assured her that no harm would come to him. "He's a hero, and I can prove it. Please say you can save him," she pleaded with the staff.

Finally they had him stabilised and resting comfortably, only then did she allow herself to leave.

xox

Back at Hogwarts, the dead had been taken away, and the elves were already setting up the Great Hall for meals. Then behind her, she heard, "Oi, 'Mione," she turned to see Ron stalking towards her. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

Feeling somewhat light at having saved her professor, Hermione spoke without thinking. "Oh, I just took Professor Snape to St. Mungos," she admitted.

Ron's eyes opened wide. "Why the hell would you bother taking a dead guy to a hospital?"

"Because he's not dead," she replied, her ire instantly bristling.

"What are you talking about; the greasy bastard sure looked dead when we left him. Well at least I'd hoped he was," he cackled.

"Ronald Weasley, that's an awful thing to say," she returned heatedly.

Ron simply shrugged, scoffed once more at her and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Settle down 'Mione, we need to find a room for some serious us time."

"I beg your pardon?" she said, pulling away from him, and watching in horror as he waggled his eyebrows at her. "Ronald Weasley, one snog does not entitle you to take my virtue."

"What's this virtue crap? You're my girlfriend now, and I want to fuck."

"Ron, we've shared one kiss. That does not translate into anything passed two friends deepening their friendship. I want to get to know you before I jump into bed with you."

When the full frontal attack failed him, he resorted to whining. "Oww, come on 'Mione, baby," he backed her up to the nearest wall, and started sucking on her neck. "You know you want it," he crooned, while licking her ear.

She was unmoved. "I said no, Ron."

"But I'm horny, 'Mione," he moaned.

"Eww, not my problem," she pushed him away. "I repeat, we need to get to know one another first."

He huffed, "How long will that take?"

"I don't know Ron, let's just see. My mum was very certain that once I give myself to someone I better be certain about it." She shrugged this time, "Well, I'm not certain about anything at the moment. So, I am most certainly not going to jump into bed with you."

"But everybody else is," he protested.

"Well, I'm not," she repeated emphatically. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if I can help Madam Pomfrey. I'll catch you later," she called over her shoulder as she mounted the stairs.

xox

It was now three weeks later, and Hermione was reflecting as she walked into St. Mungos to see her professor that she would never have thought she could have attended to so many memorials one after the other. She smiled at the nurse on the desk.

The young witch returned the smile, but said, "Oh, didn't they tell you?"

"I haven't heard anything, why?" she asked, instantly burrowing her brow.

"They transferred Professor Snape back to Hogwarts this morning."

"Oh, oh, thank you. Okay… err, bye," Hermione was a little confused. The Potions master had been conscious now for three days now, and she knew that the media had been hounding him. One silly soul had been hexed soundly by him for having the audacity to approach him uninvited. Harry had arrived yesterday to hand him his pardon, and had been greeted with a deep scowl because of the accompanying media flotilla that always seemed to accompany the boy-who-lived-twice.

She apparated to Hogsmeade and started the track up to the school. The floo connections were still out of commission, and they were using elf travel to transfer patients who belonged at Hogwarts, but Hermione hadn't thought him well enough to be moved yet.

She remembered the Potions master waking from his unconscious state, still with the stormy glower in his dark eyes. His throat not allowing him to speak well, he had just stared at her saying nothing. Finally when she couldn't stand his stony eyes, her gaze had dropped. It was then that he rasped at her, "Hermione how could you, why didn't you just let me die. You, more than anyone knew I wanted to die. Haven't I suffered enough? Oh, just go away, you insufferable chit," he demanded, and he looked away.

Hermione had gone, fighting not to break-down. Battling not to tell him why she'd saved him, because in his present mood, he would have ridiculed her further. She hoped that one day… no, what was she thinking, it would never be more than friendship, even if he did forgive her, he would never think that. But she was damned if she wasn't going to try and keep his friendship, whether he liked it or not.

Pulling herself out of her recollections, Hermione kept stomping up the drive. She finally reached the infirmary clutching the pile of Potions journals she had brought for him close to her chest. Surveying the ward, there were a dozen or so patients left, but none with black hair or his patent surly attitude. Madam Pomfrey bustled through. "Ah, Hermione, I don't have anything for you to do today."

"Actually, I was told Severus had been transferred back here."

Hermione watched the Matron's countenance grow strained. "Mmm," she said tight lipped. "The stupid man refused a bed in my ward. As soon as he arrived he somehow managed to walk to his dungeon and has locked himself in his quarters. He won't let me in, and he has potions he needs to take." It was obvious she was very put out. "I have ten other people to care for. I can't keep going all the way down to the dungeons."

"Is Severus back?" A familiar voice said as she arrived next to Hermione. Minerva took one look at Poppy's face and said, "Bloody stupid, stubborn man," and she sighed. "Poppy, give Hermione his potions. She'll make certain he's cared for, don't you worry."

xox

The two witches arrived in the dungeons together. As the new headmistress, Minerva McGonagall could override any wards in the castle. Unfortunately as a past headmaster, still living, so could Severus. The two witches just played a waiting game, and finally in his weakened state he faltered. Minerva marched in, her hair crackling with anger, and by this time he was too weak to do anything about it. "Are you going to start acting your age?" she scolded tersely.

"Get out, both of you," he seethed, but it didn't quite come off when he was collapsed, panting in an armchair too weak to even raise his wand. "Leave me in peace," a very shaky finger pointed at Hermione. "You betrayed my trust in our friendship," he asserted.

"Severus Snape, that's enough. Hermione has done nothing wrong. I would have done exactly the same thing if I'd had the opportunity. You need to learn that people care about you. Once you've recovered, the world is at your beck and call, you won't need to stay here and teach. There are no ties anymore, you're free." Both Minerva and Hermione saw the moment this piece of information sank in.

His face clouded over, "Free?" he muttered, but in his over taxed state that was as far as he got, and he promptly passed out.

xox

After a month of hard fought battles, Hermione noticed that Severus was finally starting to forgive her. She was aware he still resented her presence in his most private domain, but he needed her there while he was still recovering.

She was enjoying her work, but being on her guard constantly against his barbs, was wearing thin, although she seemed to be making progress with him. She really hoped it wasn't just wishful thinking on her part, but he really did seem to be allowing her to assist him without the fight just lately.

To that point the day before yesterday, when she was trying to reach a book to read that was on a high shelf in his library. He came up behind her, and being taller, reached over her and plucked it off the shelf. She turned in shock to find him mere inches away. He cocked a raven eyebrow and drawled, "Accio, it's a simple spell, m-my dear. It's used for obtaining items that are out of reach." Then he abruptly turned and walked away.

Hermione was left speechless. Was he about to call her his pet name for her, he had used it since before the battle. Sure he'd made a sarcastic comment, but there was no venom in it, and he'd helped her reach the book, then on top of this, she was certain she'd seen his lip twitch as if he wanted to smile. She was more flustered than she cared to admit about all of this. Finally she stuttered, "T-thank you, Severus."

By this time he was sitting at his desk, and merely looked up, his lip curling into a smirk, before going back to his parchment.

She was really pleased with this development. Sometimes she would see him watching her with the most peculiar expression on his face, but as soon as he noticed her looking, his usual mask descended once more. She finished brewing their afternoon tea, and carried the tray into the sitting room.

xox

He had good days and bad days, today was one of the bad ones. "It's a lovely afternoon; would you like a stroll around the lake?" Hermione asked, knowing she was in for a fight.

She heard him sigh, and glance up from his book. "Yes, you could take a stroll, I'd enjoy some peace and quiet away from your incessant chattering," he said evenly. "Don't hurry back."

She smiled at him, somehow wondering if it was like showing your teeth to an aggressive dog. "With all due respect, Severus, Madam Pomfrey has instructed me that you are to exercise. Here's your cloak," Hermione had her wand in her hand just in case. She'd learnt he could be dangerous when in a bad mood. She'd watched other people come undone after underestimating him. It had been a lesson she'd learnt a long time ago, when Dumbledore had first asked her to work with him, when she was still in sixth year. You never gave him a chance to get the first hex in or you wouldn't get the chance to hex period.

"Insolent chit," he growled, but she could see him holding back the curl of his lip.

He liked her to be assertive, so Hermione stood her ground. "Yes," she confirmed, but remained unfailingly polite. "Please put your cloak on." He raised a questioning eyebrow, and she smiled more broadly. "I wouldn't want you to get cold," she finished. To her great delight, he sighed again and placed his book on the side table before starting to get up.

She knew he was regaining his strength, because they had walked a complete circuit of the lake that afternoon. He was no longer on medication and the wound at his throat was almost healed. Even though she was happy for him, these developments filled her with dread. Because the fact of the matter was, he wouldn't need her at all soon; and friendship or not, she was in no doubt that he was already planning her expulsion from his rooms.

xox

Over this time Harry had been very supportive, but she had hardly seen Ron. For someone who professed to be her boyfriend, he wasn't around much. In some ways she was pleased about this, because when he was around, he hassled her no end about dragging her away from everyone. It seemed to her anyway, that he was making it his aim in life to bed her. Harry had been coming to visit quite regularly. He came to see her this particular sunny July afternoon, and it was obvious he had something on his mind.

"Have you seen Ron recently?"

"No, he's not returned any of my letters, nor has he bothered to visit."

"Have you ever thought he might not like the company you keep up here? To tell the truth, neither of us can work out why you stay here with the greasy git."

"Don't call him that," she scolded, instantly seeing red. "Why can't either of you see that the man is the true hero of the war? Besides, I like his company. He's my friend and I treasure that." She saw the look of outrage on Harry's face, and she huffed. "He has looked after us, protected us from all manner of things, has been there every time when we stupidly put ourselves in danger, regardless of whether it was part of his job or not. For Merlin's sake, he even threw himself in front of a werewolf to protect us. What have you two done in return, abused him, laughed at him, stolen from him and ignored him, then finally left him for dead..." her voice tapered off, and cracked.

Harry just stared at her. Finally he spoke, "Oh, 'Mione, tell me you haven't got the hots for Snape?"

Hermione blushed deeply, "No," she stated, a little too quickly.

Unbeknown to her, Severus was sitting on the other side of the bush, and her statement made him take notice more as well. Those two goons have never understood anything, Severus thought, shaking his head.

He couldn't help listening to this conversation, it had been completely accidental. They had come to sit by the lake, and he had already been there, and conveniently hidden from sight. He had been allowing himself a little private plotting time. You see he had thought long and hard about what Minerva had said to him the first day when he'd come back. He'd decided that he didn't want to teach anymore; he'd never wanted to, to start with. In fact, he really didn't even want to be him anymore. Being a Snape had never done him any favours, he'd be happy to be rid of the name.

Even if his mother's family had also disowned him, it had been because he was a Snape. Yesterday, he'd received a letter which had the potential to change his life. The Prince line was now officially just him. The last relative had just died, one Great Aunt Bromhilda. Her estate and everything entailed to the Prince family, had just landed in his lap, and he was planning he's departure.

Severus focused back to what Hermione said next. "But I'm his friend. He's so intelligent," she sighed sadly, "I love it when we talk," Harry gave her a disbelieving look. "We just talk Harry. I know it will… never mind."

"Hermione, I will never understand you."

It was then that Severus realised there was just one fly in the ointment. What Hermione had just said about just being friends and talking, it had hit a chord somewhere within him. The hurt he had caused her when he'd first regained consciousness had often returned to him as he watched her quietly helping him, and he found himself feeling very ashamed of himself. He really valued her friendship; she was the only one whom he could talk with on the same intellectual level he functioned on. It was at that moment that Severus Snape felt something blooming deep inside him, could it be hope. Had this intelligent, bossy, but caring and gentle witch broken through his crusty exoskeleton? Did he want her around?

Snape focused back to the quiet voices on the other side of the small screen of trees. "All right, I'm come back with you for one day," he heard the subject of his thoughts say to her companion. Potter must have given her a puzzled look. How bloody typical, Snape thought, because he then heard her exasperated voice explain further. "You do realise I do more around here than just assist Severus, don't you?"

"What else could they need you so badly for?" Potter questioned.

"Oh gee, I don't know Harry. They're rebuilding a bloody castle after a huge war, perhaps you missed it. It was in all the papers."

"Smart arse," he replied, then looked guilty. "I suppose I should be helping too. But Kingsley's got me a position with the Aurors. That's something you'd be good at, maybe you should try that?"

"Maybe, I don't want to make any decisions yet," she said, getting up. "Come on, I'll walk you to the gate."

"I thought we decided you were coming with me?"

"I'll come tomorrow. I can't just drop everything here and disappear. People need to know where I am."

"Don't try telling me, Snape cares where you are. Because then I'll know you're getting really delusional," they had started to walk away.

Severus could see tension in her stance, as she answered. "It's Professor Snape to you, and I offer him the same consideration I would offer you or Ron."

"Ha! He'll never thank you for it," Harry scoffed.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.

xox

Hermione did leave the next day. She spoke to Minerva that evening after dinner, and came back a little flustered. "She wants me to take a week away."

"Perhaps it would do you good to leave for a time," Severus said, thinking of plans he had to make that would be easier if she wasn't here. "You have been working very hard; you could do with a break." Why does saying that make me feel so awful, he wondered.

She graced him with a horrified look, and he was certain he saw her lip quiver. She cleared her throat. "I d-don't want to leave."

"You should go. You need to get out into the land of the living. Make plans for your future; you can't devote your time to a bitter old man forever. Anyway, I'm almost better." Each further part of his sentence made the empty gnawing feeling inside him deepen. What the hell is wrong with me? Snape thought. He was saying words that were suddenly making him feel like the world had just dropped out from under him because he was telling her to leave. He ignored it as best he could.

It was obvious to Snape, that the woman in front of him was trying not to cry, and for some reason he found this distressing. He usually hated crying women, but if Hermione was upset, he had the daft idea that he wanted to comfort her. Then he latched onto a new idea, in his quest to push her back where she belonged. "What about your parents? I haven't heard you mention them once. Aren't they missing you? Even if you don't go to see the twin goons, perhaps you could visit them. A break would really do you good."

"No," she said quickly, not trusting her voice beyond that.

His brow instantly furrowed, she was with-holding something. "Come, sit, there's something you're not telling me, and I want you to explain," he commanded, placing the Ars Alchemica he was still holding down.

She dutifully walked over and plopped down in the chair opposite him, only daring to look up at him from under her eyelashes. "Umm, my parents moved to Australia," she managed, before studying her hands intently.

"Surely they know what's been happening, you have given them the courtesy of a letter to say you're safe, I hope?"

Hermione shook her head. Suddenly there were tears dripping off her nose. Try as she might, she couldn't stop them; it was all just too painful. She heard him exhale loudly, and then the rustle of his robes as he moved. A handkerchief arrived in her hand, and he squatted in front of her, his hands on the arms of the chair. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?"

Grasping the offered cloth, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Then in a very broken voice she explained, "Well, my parents don't actually know about me anymore."

Glancing up under her lashes again, she saw one hand retreat from the chair, and his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. "I hope you're not telling me what I think you're telling me."

"I wanted to keep them safe. I knew they'd be targets because of my association with Harry," she stopped and took several deep breaths, "So I Obliviated them…" she shrugged and her voice trailed off, "t-to keep them safe." Hermione waited for the axe to fall, she knew what she'd done was wrong. But there was silence, finally she asked, "Are you going to report me?"

He didn't answer her at first, but finally, in a voice as calm as ever, he asked, "Who knows what you've done?"

She shrugged, "I've never told anyone, until you," she looked at him, blinking.

"Good, perhaps you can still get away with it. Do you know how to restore their memories?"

She studied her hands again, and then shook her head. "No, I didn't think it that far through."

He huffed, "Typical bloody Gryffindor." Sighing in a put upon way, his hand reached out and grasped her chin. He brought her face up so she couldn't look away from him, and he studied her a moment. Finally he spoke, and Hermione was struck by what she saw on his face. "Now, my irritating bloody little know-it-all, you are to tell absolutely no one about this. You will go to visit your friends for the entire week, as Minerva instructed. Then you will come back and I will teach you how to fix the damage you have inflicted. Is that completely understood?"

Hermione beamed, "Oh yes, Severus. Perfectly, thank you."

Severus suddenly found the hand that had been holding her chin up, captured between her two small hands, and she was kissing his knuckles, chanting, 'Thank you' as she did.

"Miss Granger," he admonished sharply, he hid behind formality because he was completely confused by the flip his stomach did at her actions.

She snapped back as if burned. "I'm sorry. I was just happy," she was bright crimson, and now she was repeating, 'sorry' as her new mantra.

Allowing his hair to fall forward and hide the pink tinge he felt in his cheek, he rose up and turned away, pretending to look for his book. "There is no reason to apologise, it was just a little unexpected, that's all."

"I'm sorry, Severus, I meant no harm," she offered, now mortified at her actions.

"I think perhaps you should go to bed immediately, I'll see you when you get back, next week. Remember; tell no one, good night." With that, he stalked from the room. He heard her offer him a good night as he shut his bedroom door.

What was happening to him? He brought the lovingly attended hand up in front of his face. He could still feel the ghost of the touch of her lips on it. It's just because I'm so seldom touched, that's all. I'm just over sensitive to it, his panicked brain tried to reason.

Once his brain thought it had the actions and effect all neatly categorised, he started getting ready for bed. He was angry with himself when his hand shook, and he had an over powering urge not to wash his kissed hand. He had to strengthen his defences against this witch; he was leaving soon after she returned, he could not have anymore of her silliness.

In the room next door, Hermione was curled up on her bed. She was mortified at taking the liberty that she had, however, this was battling with the fact that he intended to help her. Certainly he had been curt and stiff, but perhaps it had been a shock to him, her suddenly attacking his hand. It was such a lovely hand, she sighed, if only he'd see me as a woman and not just an ex-student. Kicking her shoes off, she climbed under the covers, too tired to get up, and cried herself asleep.

In the other room, Severus lay on his back staring at the canopy. Sleep elusive as he listened to the crying witch in the next room. He almost had to tie himself to the bed not to go to her. He was horrified with himself. Surely he couldn't have feelings beyond friendship for the young witch, why was it he seemed to have no control of his actions where she was concerned.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, and turned over. Finally he got up and took the bottle of Dreamless Sleep out of the bathroom cupboard. A week away from her would set things to right, he pondered as the potion started to work, and his eyes fell shut.