Author's Note: I own nothing you recognize. This is my first SS/Hg fic directly after the battle, so it's an AU for the epilogue to DH. I've had fun with this one, spending more time trying to figure out what Snape would be like had he survived. Please let me know what you think.

Prologue:

Racing up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, Hermione almost tripped four times before finally getting into the open air, smacking her and licking her face wildly, forcing her hair to tussle each step she took towards the edge. Fear crept in for a moment as she peered over the thick stone banisters, jagged rocks and still water from the lake below would meet her if she slipped but a little, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered. All she wanted to do was cry and feel sorry for herself, her immature emotions and apparent naïveté. Nothing about her return to Hogwarts to finish her NEWTs had gone as planned and now it was far more complicated, growing increasingly more by the day.

"You shouldn't be up here." She heard from her left, the last person she expected to see and one she was trying to avoid at all costs. Severus Snape motioned her away from the edge, but Hermione stood steadfast, her eyes wild and full of the same spirit that had survived the war mere months before.

"You shouldn't be either, as it were, but here we are." Pointing to the wound at his neck, bandaged tightly, making it hard for him to talk and breath normally. He motioned again, as though this time her stubbornness would cease and she'd follow direction.

"I just want to be alone, please. You aren't my professor anymore, alert Headmistress McGonagall if you have to, but I need to clear my head." It annoyed her in the moment, knowing she was nineteen and attending school, when Ron and Harry were off in auror school, and there was still the problem of the man next to her.

"Freeze, then." He turned on his heel and began descending the stairs, sometimes two at a time, using more strength than he'd been able to conjure in weeks.

"Insufferable man!" She swore under her breath, slamming her fist against the cold stone. It took everything she had not to chase him down the stairs and tell him exactly what was bothering her because it weighed so heavily just then. But, she stayed and let the chill invade her bones, pondering deeply when it had happened, that she'd begun thinking of him as a man, a complicated and interesting man who took his tea with lemon, regardless of the kind, and was loathe to admit how much he enjoyed pumpkin pasties and the occasional chocolate frog, even Bertie Bott's every flavor beans, coaxing her to try them when he knew it was a nasty flavor.

The wind whirled through her hair once more, forcing her to step back and still against the edge, slowly sitting on the frozen ground. She felt stupid and immature, all the school girl she'd been years before with crushes on Viktor Krum and even Ron, but with Snape, it was demonstrably different, it was impossible, and it froze her heart more than sitting on the cold stone of the Astronomy Tower.

When she finally came down, he was waiting, standing at the door, a cup of tea in hand and his standard sneer.

"Enjoy yourself?"

"I always do." She replied sarcastically, walking passed him and down her usual path to the rooms set aside for all students who'd returned to finish their NEWTs and one surly professor who was no longer head of Slytherin but would be once he was well enough again. She unlocked her door with a quiet alohomora and stepped through, turning to him as he did the same, their eyes met and she bit her tongue, holding it all back again.

"Goodnight, Hermione." He dipped his head slightly as he bowed to her and she laughed at his feigned pretension. It made her feel even worse; she absolutely had to get over her feelings for him.

Chapter 1:

It all began after the battle destroyed a great deal of the school and many former students, professors, and well-meaning witches and wizards offered to help and rebuild, making sure the school was ready for students again come September. The night after the final battle, Hermione worked with Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, her knowledge of restorative potions and spells helpful enough to remain. Everything had seemed to move in slow motion, each student or teacher brought in assessed and aided quickly, but in a reel as though Hermione was watching it all happen from afar. That was until they brought Snape in. She was sure that he'd died in the Shrieking Shack after Voldemort sent Nagini against him, but there he was, clinging to life and at the mercy of those deemed capable to help.

Everyone bustled about him, potions poured down his throat, blood replenishing aids administered and finally a strict binding to stop the continued bleeding. All she felt capable of doing in the moment was holding his hand, so that's what she did. For hours she sat next to him, this man who had sacrificed so much for them, and held his hand, running her thumb across his knuckles over and over. When their work was finished for the night, Hermione reluctantly left for five minutes to freshen up, fearing that leaving him alone would mean certain death, so she pulled a cot over and slept next to him, desperate to save at least one person from the horribleness of the battle. There was something about being close to someone else that made her ease. She still felt the brave and fierce Gryffindor she'd always been, just a little worse for the wear.

The next morning, when she woke he was still unconscious, his bandages needing changed every couple hours and potions administered. Being busy and helpful have Hermione purpose; purpose like she'd felt hunting horcruxes with Harry and Ron, except this time she was doing this alone. Sure, Madame Pomfrey and other professors were there to aid the ill, but she felt independent of her boys for the first time in a long time. Often, her thoughts turned to the kiss she shared with Ron in the chamber of secrets, how she should've felt more for him than she did, and it worried her that perhaps he'd gotten the wrong impression.

Within weeks, Hermione had taken to helping Madame Pomfrey so exclusively that she'd been offered an apprenticeship and also asked McGonagall, acting headmistress, if she could sit her NEWTs when term ended, Neville, Luna, and many others joining her. It just didn't feel right to leave Hogwarts just yet, not when her future prospects would always be limited without NEWT scores recorded, and all her hard work, she felt wasted without proof. So she toiled in the infirmary, helping Madame Pomfrey and assessing patients, brewing potions, and whenever needed, helping restore and rebuild the school, and once school was in session again, she attended classes twice a week while also completing her was mindless work sometimes, but she felt useful and never worried about the elements she couldn't control. After applying for Auror school, Ron and Harry came to celebrate at Hogwarts before leaving.

"So you have to change bandages?" Ron asked, looking a bit squeamish as he tore into a plate of kippers.

"Yes, and do spells and brew potions, my main patient is Snape of course, though I don't know why he hasn't been moved to St. Mungos."

"Dad says Shacklebolt doesn't want the notoriety right now, something about even if Snape is innocent, bad press or something." Hermione and Harry both rolled their eyes, even if Snape wasn't a particularly good person, he'd still sacrificed a great deal for the Order of the Phoenix and for Harry.

"Well, I don't mind taking care of him, it's better than a desk job at the Ministry any day." She snapped back, sipping her pumpkin juice and staring holes into Ron's kippers.

"No need to get touchy." Ron replied, his mouth full. Harry looked over to Professor McGonagall and excused himself, giving Ron the perfect opportunity to speak to Hermione.

"Listen, while I'm gone, I think we should cool things off." She wasn't expecting that and in fact it couldn't have been more welcome as she felt, with each day, that her attraction had been misplaced.

"I agree. You need to focus on school and I do, too." He gave a small smile and she felt relieved, finally able to release the breath she'd been holding since he sat down. They finished in silence and she said goodbye, watching them walk on the path to Hogsmeade Village. She climbed the stairs back into the infirmary and continued where she'd left off, turning Snape so he didn't form of bedsores and reapplying his bandages. The bleeding was less severe, but the scarring was bad, the worst she'd seen of anyone in and out of the infirmary since the battle. One of the most difficult things she'd had to do, in terms of her own sensibilities, was washing her former professor. Yet, soon it became just as commonplace as anything else she did, she simply focused and completed to task with the same precision she gave to all other tasks, though it did sometimes cross her mind that she'd seen him completely naked.

As she'd started to do each night, Hermione opened the Lord of the Rings, and continued reading to him where she'd left off, noting that in muggle psychology hearing a familiar voice or being spoken to helped patients in comas recover more frequently. Placing her book next to the bedside, she wiped his face once more, took his left hand in hers, and squeezed it, wanting so much for him to wake up.

"Ms. Granger, Professor Flitwick requires a draught of dreamless sleep, would you carry this to him?" Madame Pomfrey asked, holding out the bottle. Hermione reluctantly let Snape's hand go and took the bottle to the elderly Ravenclaw, just as thankful and considerate as all the other professors whom she had helped. Once finished, she made herself retreat to her rooms and study some texts before bed, trying not to think of Ron and Harry leaving for Auror school or the fact that students would be returning soon.

Around two am she wandered back to the infirmary and checked on Snape before going to the lounge for a quick snack. She happened upon Minerva McGonagall, surprisingly.

"You're up rather late or is it early?" McGonagall surmised, noting the dark circles under Hermione's eyes.

"I haven't been to sleep yet, kind of stuck in my studying," Hermione paused and finally asked what she had wanted to ask many times,"Do you think Professor Snape will ever wake up?" Minerva's face dropped, thinking of him also made her weary.

"I do hope so, we have a great deal to thank him for. And he should be very grateful to you, Madame Pomfrey has told me of your excellent care." Minerva sipped her gilly water and patted Hermione's hand.

"I hope so, too. Well, goodnight, Headmistress, I should be getting to bed." With that, she wandered to her room and finally found sleep, dreaming of a rebuilt Hogwarts, with students free to study and learn without the threat of Voldemort, but as she was wont to do, Hermione, half asleep, wandered back to the cot next to Snape and slept there. When she finally woke, Hermione began her day the same as she had for weeks, checking on Snape, brewing or finishing potions, and fetching ingredients when needed from the Forbidden Forest or elsewhere on the grounds. That night when she returned to give Snape his nightly potions, after wiping his face and repositioning his head, she squeezed his hand as she normally did and felt the slightest squeeze back, though she wasn't convinced it had been real. She tried again and there it was, he was responding. Instantly, relief and happiness filled her, causing her eyes to tear, something they were doing was working and she felt sure he would recover.