A/N: Another chapter already? Where did this come from? :O Thank you all for reading! :D

The next few weeks passed quickly for Hermione, and she often found herself marvelling at how the pain of her father's passing had dissipated, leaving behind only a fond warmness.

Time truly was a kind mistress.

But as her own suffering diminished, it seemed to only be shouldered onto countless other Muggleborn students. Hermione was suddenly the confidant of several first year Gryffindors who had lost one or both parents to Death Eater attacks and, while she would never turn away a grieving child at her door, she could feel the strain settling within her thoughts.

One night, sitting in Severus' rooms after more practice with the mannequin, she couldn't help but voice her concerns.

"I try to comfort them as best I can," she said, fingering her teacup anxiously, "but I'm afraid I'm not very good at dealing with emotional children."

"Join the club," he deadpanned as he settled down next her on the couch.

"Severus." She threw him a withering glare. What kind of help was that?

He sighed then and leaned back against the cushions. "Simply knowing that they can come to you if needed will certainly benefit them greatly. Remember, too, that Minerva is their Head of House; encourage them to speak with her if you are feeling overwhelmed."

"I have, but I think they prefer spending time with someone more… relatable."

Severus was silent for a time. Hermione stayed quiet, knowing that the furrow of his brow meant that he was contemplating something.

Finally, he said, "There is a second year Slytherin boy who also lost his parents recently."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I hadn't heard. Was it mentioned in the Daily Prophet?"

"It was. I believe it was the same day that your little Gryffindors' families were attacked as well."

"...Oh." She bit her lip, wondering how she had missed that information.

"Don't blame yourself—you had other concerns at the time. The child is, after all, in my House. However, as you can probably imagine, I am unable to offer the same support that you can to students in your house." He grimaced slightly. "Particularly if the Dark Lord is going to be this active."

"What can I do to help?" she asked, eager to make amends for her previous ignorance of the boy's plight.

"I'm not sure if he'd be very willing to talk to you," Severus replied with an apologetic look. "I do think, though, that he might be more open to confiding in students closer to his age."

"You mean my Gryffindors?"

He nodded. "With any luck, having someone else to focus on will hasten their healing process as well."

She raised her eyebrows again, glancing at him curiously. "You've been thinking about this for a while."

He shrugged and sipped at his tea.

"Severus," she prodded.

"I thought it would be advantageous for them to learn to sort out their problems amongst themselves," he muttered.

Hermione couldn't help but grin. "Yes, I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that I'll also be getting more peace and quiet if they do."

"You're much more agreeable when you get adequate amounts of sleep," he said in a good imitation of Lucius's haughty tone.

This time she managed to hold back a snort. He refused to meet her eyes, and she smiled fondly. He'd been worried about her.

"Thank you," she said softly, warmth spreading through her body. Before she could second guess herself, she quickly tucked her arm in his and leaned into his side.

A quiet sound of surprise escaped him. "Hermione?"

She only pressed herself closer and waited for him to relax.

"Apparently you're more sleep-deprived than I thought," he grumbled under his breath.

She laughed. "You're sweet when you pretend not to care."

A faint blush painted his skin and, Gods help her, she'd never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her life. Severus glanced down at her, her head tucked in his armpit.

"You're an absolute menace," he sighed but settled himself more comfortably against her.

Hermione smiled to herself, utterly content to sit there forever with the soft crackling of the fireplace warming the room.

After some time, though, Severus shifted away.

"It's late—you ought to go back to your rooms," he murmured.

She made a face but nodded. "I suppose so."

But his expression was so relaxed and his eyes warm; she found herself unable to look away.

Severus cleared his throat, the warmth fading. "I'll have to cancel our meeting tomorrow."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Had he not enjoyed their time together? Hermione did her best to maintain a neutral expression.

She clearly failed miserably as he hastened to explain, "Unfortunately, I've been tasked by Dumbledore to determine what has happened to Bellatrix—her whereabouts are still unknown."

Well, at least he wasn't purposely avoiding her. "And you have to leave tomorrow?"

"The Malfoys are hosting a dinner to celebrate the—success—of recent raids," he said, the distaste clear in his voice.

Hermione frowned. "I thought they were on our side?"

He smiled reassuringly. "Oh, they are. I spoke with Lucius—we're hoping that Bella will either be present herself, or that we'll gain some information from… inebriated Death Eaters," he finished delicately.

"That sounds awful," she said blandly, suppressing a shiver at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Severus exhaled loudly. "I'm quite certain it will be."

"Will Vol—the Dark Lord—be there?"

"Not this time," he answered.

"Good."

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at the vehemence in her voice.

"He can't hurt you then," she elaborated, daring to tuck in to his side again.

Severus rolled his eyes, although the slight twitch of his lips contradicted the action. "For the love of Merlin, return to your rooms."

Hermione grinned cheekily and contemplated using this rare burst of confidence to sneak a quick kiss, but decided not to press her luck. She didn't want to ruin such a good night.

Standing up and stretching, she asked, "You'll only be gone the one night?"

Severus didn't answer immediately, causing her to glance at him curiously at his unfocused gaze. He stood abruptly, blinking away the distant look in his eyes. "If all goes as planned, yes," he said, guiding her to the Floo. "I'll have Dumbledore inform you if something comes up."

"Alright," Hermione agreed grudgingly; she'd much rather have him back after one day. "Be safe."

Severus snorted. "While I acknowledge that Lucius can be a tad overzealous if the integrity of his curtains is threatened, I imagine that we should be rather safe at a dinner party."

She frowned at him. "I'm serious. If Bellatrix is there…."

His eyes softened as he handed her the bowl of Floo powder. "Do not worry yourself."

"A party at the Manor and I wasn't even invited," Draco sighed dramatically from his sprawled position on Hermione's carpeted floor the next night.

"After what happened the last time we had dinner with your parents, I can't imagine why you would want be invited," Hermione said wryly, doing her best not to think of what the Death Eaters would be doing at the Manor now.

Harry grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"Hey, look on the bright side—it could've gone worse," Ron interjected cheerfully.

"Could it?" Harry buried his head in his hands.

Hermione snorted and finished the last word in her Charms essay with a flourish of her quill.

"Anyway," Draco said, sounding very much like he would rather not think about their last dinner at Malfoy Manor, "I received a letter from my father earlier; apparently he needs Severus to brew some potions for him tomorrow, so your next healing meeting will have to wait."

She nodded. "Does Dumbledore know?"

"I'd say so," Draco replied. "I suppose they thought it would be easier for me to tell you than Dumbledore. Oh, and Severus says that it would be appreciated if you could stock and prepare ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Tonight?" she asked in surprise. The full moon was not for another two weeks—it seemed early to begin brewing, but perhaps Severus was planning ahead for the busy week before Christmas holidays.

Draco only shrugged. "Severus will likely be back the day after tomorrow. As long as you do it before he returns, I doubt he much cares when you do it."

"Right," Hermione muttered, rolling up her essay and tucking it in her bag.

"How're your lessons with Snape going?" Harry asked, having apparently recovered from his previous flashback.

"Good," she replied. "I feel as though I've learned a lot, and he's certainly thorough about when and how to use each countercurse. But I can't help but worry that I won't know enough to save someone," she admitted quietly.

"Well, you'd be more help than any of us," Ron said, and frowned at his words.

A similar expression was mirrored on Harry's face as he said, "Ron's right. We've picked up a lot from Healing class, but countercurses like the ones you're learning aren't a part of the curriculum. Maybe you ought to teach us, too?"

"It's a good idea," Hermione agreed slowly, "but I don't know if I'd be able to properly explain it all to you. And I don't think Severus has the time to teach all three of you."

"That's alright," Draco said confidently. "After all, the Death Eaters aren't going to be that creative with their attacks—most have one or two favorite curses, and only a couple have even heard of the ones Severus knows, let alone know how to cast them."

"So teach us the main ones," Harry said, catching on. "Whatever ones seem most important."

Hermione nodded, her mind already shifting through and categorizing her arsenal of countercurses. "Yes, I can do that… I'll need to consult with Severus as well—he knows the most about what the Death Eaters might use," she murmured.

"That's settled, then." Ron gave a satisfied jerk of his nod. "Why don't we meet in the Room of Requirement sometime Saturday to practice?"

"Yes, yes, sounds good," she mumbled, waving her hand absentmindedly in his direction. "First I'll find which curses they tend to use the most, then rank them by lethality. Or perhaps I should give you an easy countercurse to start off with…" She glanced up to see the boys watching her in amusement. "What are you three looking at? I'm busy—go finish your essays in the library."

Draco snorted. "Yes, mother."