—————H—————

"Mr. Snape, Miss Evans, would you mind staying back?" Slughorn asked with a wide grin, hands behind his back as he gave a little bounce on his feet.

"You don't think?" she heard Sirius mumble to James as they gathered their stuff.

She glanced over, seeing James contemplating the question.

"No," he said, shaking his head. Without another word, James and Sirius gathered their things, gestured for Peter and Remus to follow, and headed out the door.

Hermione glanced at Severus and was taken aback by the resignation in his eyes.

"I'll meet up with you later," he said.

Hermione nodded, gathered her things, and left just as Lily bounced to join Slughorn and Severus at the front of the room.

Despite knowing full well that it was likely they wouldn't come out soon, she kept glancing over her shoulder for them. She noticed Remus waiting alone at the end of the hall, and she found herself drifting toward him while still checking.

"Slug Club," Remus said with a sad sort of smile. "It's reasonable to assume. James and Sirius got invited a couple days ago, but you three hurried off to Transfiguration before he had a chance to say anything. Then again, they were moving rather slow. Apparently those two and Peter cast a singing and dancing jinx on a young Hufflepuff and were caught by Professor McGonagall."

"What for?" Hermione demanded. "What did the Hufflepuff do?"

Remus shrugged, shamefaced. "Nothing," he admitted. "They were bored and their, uh, usual target couldn't be found."

Hermione figured they'd been in the Room of Requirement, and that's why they hadn't found them. Though now she wondered why they hadn't managed to sneak up on Severus while he brewed. Either way, since her birthday, he'd been spending more time in his abandoned classroom than anywhere else. As a result, Hermione found herself, often with Lily, tucked away with him. They Transfigured a table into a somewhat comfortable couch, and a chair into a low coffee table. It wasn't often that Severus wasn't at his makeshift station, going over notes and brewing, but when he wasn't, the three of them could easily sit side by side without too much discomfort.

Of course, Hermione much preferred the times without Lily, even if she did feel bad about that. She liked being able to lay her head against Severus' leg, the both of them on the sofa and discussing whatever tickled their fancy.

"You didn't get invited with them? Or Peter?" she asked.

Remus shook his head glumly. "Slughorn only invites those he thinks will go places in life. Don't, don't look like that," Remus begged when Hermione froze abruptly. She could feel how wide her eyes were, her lip trembling. "What he means, mostly, is fame or prestige. Affluence plays a big part, but so does skill."

"And Lily Evans is more skilled than me?" The incredulous statement tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Not necessarily," Remus said cautiously. "But, well, she's Muggle-born."

"So?" Hermione asked, trepidation pushing aside the anger that had started to brew.

"So, as ridiculous it may sound, she's a bit of a novelty to Slughorn. He has the potential to brag about her later on."

Hermione's shoulders sagged. Was she really so worthless in this era? Was she really seen as having no potential? It was a petty thought, but Hermione briefly considered that if she revealed she was a Muggle-born, she may be as lauded and praised as Lily.

Oh, she couldn't deny that Lily had talent in Charms and Transfiguration. They were probably up to par in those, as well as Potions. But Lily had no mind for difficult topics. Arithmancy confused her and Runes bored her. While Hermione could concede it was the same for her with Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, they certainly weren't going to give Lily any life or academic advantage. And what did Lily even want to do? She never spoke of pursuing a particular mastery or career. They'd take their O.W.L.s this year, and yet the only thing she'd ever mentioned was maybe trying to write for Witch Weekly. Yet Slughorn saw her as having more potential.

"Hermione," Remus said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're bloody brilliant. You're easily the top of our house, if not the year. Not being invited by Slughorn does not take that away from you. And really, do you want to have to endure James and Sirius?"

"I suppose not," she said with a wry grin. "And I suppose I can't be too jealous of Lily, considering she'll be their sole focus."

"Exactly," Remus replied, stepping back slightly. "And maybe, on the nights that they're there, we could spend time together?"

"I'm not sure you could handle my study habits."

"I think I could try," Remus replied, bashful and ... blushing?

Hermione's heart sank as she considered what it could mean if Remus was asking to spend time with her. She didn't want to hurt him or assume, but she had to wonder if he fancied her a bit.

"We get to go to Slug Club!" Lily's exuberant voice preceded her, and Hermione turned to give her friend a smile and a hug in congratulations.

"I have no idea why you're so thrilled about it," Severus said with a roll of his eyes. "Uncomfortable dinners with people whom Slughorn collects and boasts about for his own benefit."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder as Remus pointedly cleared his throat, and Hermione shook her head as he gave a satisfied grin.

"Still," she said as she stepped around Lily to Severus, "it'll be good for you." She didn't dare hug him, not now, not over something he wasn't excited about. Instead, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I have better ways of getting where I need to be," he replied, and she knew better than to ask. He swiped his thumb over her knuckles twice before he dropped her hand. "Lunch is halfway over and I cannot sit through History of Magic on an empty stomach. We should go." And like that, the four of them headed to the Great Hall, mention of the Slug Club forgotten.

—————S—————

Severus headed for the library, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the slight churn in his stomach and his clammy hands. He had not made extra sure his hair was as clean as possible nor did he purposely wear an untucked white oxford with his casual trousers in an effort to look nice but not too formal. He carried his satchel with a grip far too tight for something holding only two textbooks, a bit of parchment, a quill, and some ink.

Occlumency had at least taught him how to control his heart rate, so instead of it pounding in his chest, it remained steady, if slightly elevated.

Hogsmeade weekend had been officially announced for next week, and he still had strong memories of this time last year. Memories of being nervous to ask Lily to accompany him, of his elation when she agreed, of his bitter and gut-wrenching disappointment when she didn't show. He also remembered how he'd raged internally when Hermione stepped in to cover for her, for allowing all the blame, the anger to fall on her when she barely knew him. She hadn't even realized how she'd helped him; he'd only endured a good-humored ribbing from his housemates. He should have joined her like a proper wizard instead of leaving her alone.

Hermione was not Lily, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try to ask her to go with him. He wanted to secure her company, and perhaps gain some insight to her thoughts about their friendship.

He couldn't stop reliving the hugs she'd given him on her birthday. Despite initially feeling jealous because of the expensive gift he thought Black or Lupin had given her, he'd shivered when her fingers grazed his neck. When she'd cleared that misunderstanding, when she'd hugged him tight once more to express just how much she appreciated his present... he'd tried using Occlumency for the first time to suppress his reaction. It only partially worked because he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of her in his arms, the way her curls tickled his chin. And the last hug of the day, when he threw caution to the wind and twirled her curls around his fingers, he had found a level of bliss he hadn't felt since he first started brewing in the abandoned classroom. He was not proud of how often he remembered their physical contact. The hugs she had given him were more affection than Lily had ever shown him. Lily had given him some awkward half-hugs in the last few years, clearly not meant to be reciprocated. She hadn't held his hand since coming to Hogwarts.

Severus was sure that if Hermione said yes, she would not stand him up. She may even hold his hand as they walked through the village, perhaps to pull him along to Tomes and Scrolls or to Scrivenshaft's.

He entered the library, nodded to Madam Pince, and headed for his and Hermione's usual table.

Just as he was rounding the bookcase that blocked it from view, he saw Lupin heading toward Hermione. She was already deep in textbooks and parchment, her hair pulled back in a sensible knot that held one quill (or was the quill holding the hair?). She was clearly not aware of her surroundings, so it didn't surprise him when Hermione startled terribly at Lupin's quiet inquiry.

"Yes, Remus?" she said, looking up at the Marauder with a small smile, her chest heaving from the effort to control her breathing.

"I was wondering," Lupin began, wringing his hands while squaring his shoulders, "I was wondering if I can escort you to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Hermione physically recoiled with surprise; her eyes wide as she blinked owlishly at him. Severus wanted to flee, to hide and lick his wounds, because of course Hermione would catch the eye of not one, but two Marauders. And why wouldn't it be the most intelligent of the bunch, the one who actually stood a chance? But it was her still-shocked visage that kept him from moving, wanting to see what she would answer.

"Sorry, Remus," she began, "but I'm going with Severus."

What?

She ... what?

Had she just ...?

"I assumed as much." Lupin tried to mimic the smarmy grin Black always wore, only it was a pale imitation. "And Lily, I wager."

Hermione blushed. "I hadn't considered Lily's plans," she mumbled.

"But," Lupin continued, perhaps not hearing her remark, "I thought that maybe you wouldn't mind leaving the two of them to their own devices for a bit. We don't have to be together the whole time, and if you want to stay with them the entire time, we could as well. I'm sure James—"

"Remus," Hermione said with gentle exasperation, and Severus found himself using the break in Lupin's tirade to round the bookcase completely.

Both of them looked up at once, both blushed, but Hermione gave him a warm, welcoming smile.

His lips twitched upward in response.

"Am I interrupting something?" Severus asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"I, er ...." Lupin fidgeted, looking at the floor before peeking at Hermione.

"She already told you who she's going with," Severus replied, a frosty undertone to his politeness. "I understand that those you acquaint yourself with have a difficult time understanding rejection, so perhaps you can show them how to accept it with grace."

Lupin scowled but nodded once before leaving.

Oh, Severus knew he was going to pay for that later. Once Black, Potter, and Pettigrew heard about this, he was going to need a semi-permanent shield up to make it through the next week. But it was worth it, so very worth it, to have an upper hand over at least one of those idiots.

"So, h-how much of that did you hear, exactly?" Hermione asked with more than one clearing of her throat.

Severus pulled his gaze away from where Lupin had disappeared and sat down.

"Enough," he replied, taking out his textbooks.

"Right," Hermione said, chewing on a fingernail. "I suppose I probably just ... never mind."

"Just what?"

"It's nothing."

"Hermione." He stretched out the syllables of her name in warning.

She sat ramrod straight. "I probably just ruined any plans you had." She bit down hard on her bottom lip, and Severus was surprised he didn't see blood.

It was funny how she did that sometimes; when he made his voice a touch deeper, she sat at attention like she did in class. Not so often these days, at least not when it was directed at someone else.

"My plans ... involved you," he said, suddenly finding the ink stain on his thumb very interesting.

"They did?" she asked. And why did she have to have such a hopeful lilt to her voice? Maybe if Remus hadn't asked first, he could believe that it was because she truly wanted to go with him.

"Indeed," Severus replied.

He peeked at her through the curtain of his hair; Hermione was chewing her lip, her eyes sparkling. "Well, er, I suppose that means you planned on Lily joining us."

"Not ... particularly," he said cautiously, shaking his hair out of his face to get a good look at her.

Hermione was just so ... happy. And why that scared him ...

He suddenly remembered Lily's expression when he asked her to go with him a year ago. She'd been happy, too. Happy for a scapegoat, happy for someone to latch onto if the other girls ditched her.

"She does come and go as she pleases." Hermione nodded, sobering. He frowned, studying how her shoulders straightened and she tensed. "I suppose you wouldn't expect her to be around, as she usually isn't."

"True," he said, frown deepening.

"So just you and me, then. Almost like the summer." She glanced at him, and he relaxed when he caught the joy in her warm brown eyes.

"Only we will be surrounded by more dunderheads than we were then," he deadpanned.

And she laughed, warm and wonderful. He wished Pince hadn't shushed her, because Hermione was downright breathtaking when she abandoned everything to her mirth.

He'd never felt rage like this before. Rage at the sodding bloody Marauders for how they always escaped trouble, and at himself, for dropping his guard. He'd been right, he'd been targeted by the trio after they heard about his exchange with Lupin, who assured him he didn't repeat his less-than-kind words. He'd only told them that Hermione had already made plans and who she'd made them with. The pathetic part was that Severus believed him. In fact, one time when Severus had been cornered, Lupin fought alongside him, declaring "That's enough!" But the laughs that followed the ceasefire weren't very reassuring.

And here he was, laying in the hospital wing with a broken leg from falling down the stairs on his way up from the dungeons to meet Hermione at Gryffindor Tower. Had he not been so bloody eager, he'd have stuck with the plan to meet her in the Entrance Hall. He'd have headed up with his housemates, surrounded by too many students and teachers for them to do anything.

He could picture it now: Hermione looking around the Entrance Hall, straining on her tiptoes to search for him. She'd wonder if she missed him, ask Lily if she'd seen him. Lily would say no, perhaps lure her out the doors with a promise to look for him in the village. And Lupin, well, he would notice and probably not ask too many questions about how fortune shone on him.

Severus sighed, pounding the hospital bed hard three times before pulling on his hair with both hands. It was greasy from being touched so much, and it only made him hate himself more.

"Severus," Madam Pomfrey chided gently. "There will be other trips to the village."

He didn't say anything to that because he was not, under any circumstances, about to whine over his lost chance with ...

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here?" Madam Pomfrey's greeting made Severus sit up and turn to the door so abruptly that he jarred his leg. He went from wide-eyed wonder at the possibility that she had actually come, to eyes clamped shut and chanting every curse word he'd ever learned in Cokeworth.

"That sounds promising," Hermione said, a touch of worry in her voice.

"He broke his leg," the matron informed her. "He was brought up here by a quartet of young Slytherins who were quite good at levitating charms."

"How did you break your leg?" Hermione asked, and he felt her hand on the thigh of his injured appendage, just above the knee.

"Guess," he gritted out as the pain eased.

"I should hex them in their sleep," Hermione mused thoughtfully. "I know for a fact that the girls can make it up to the boys' dormitories, it's only the other way around that it becomes an issue. I could sneak up there and get creative just before dawn."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," Madam Pomfrey said as she gently tapped Severus on the shoulder. He looked at her, seeing her holding a familiar flask. He grimaced.

"Must it be that?" he asked. "Couldn't I just have the bone set and the leg put in a splint?"

"It's only one dose, Mr. Snape," she scolded.

He groaned, took the flask and downed the potion. Skele-Gro wasn't pleasant, but this was much worse. He quickly used his wand to conjure some water in the flask to rinse his mouth.

"There. A few hours, and you'll be all right," she reassured, patting his shoulder before taking the flask and leaving.

The second she was gone, Hermione gently got on the bed next to him.

"Why are you here?" he asked as she took his hand in both of hers. Her touch was warm, gentle, reassuring. Did she know she traced the space between his fingers, the movement absentminded?

"Do you want me to go?" she asked quietly.

"It's not going to be pretty," he warned her. "My language skills get worse, and if you were ever curious if I had the Cokeworth accent, you'll find that it is buried deep inside under all the good breeding my mother tried to inculcate in me when Tobias wasn't around."

She snorted. "I can only imagine. And as long as you don't mind me being here, I'll endure it." She grinned, and he couldn't help returning it even as he felt the potion kick in.

"Surprised you didn't just go with Lupin," he hissed, hand clamping around hers while the other curled into a fist.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, her voice quivering a little. "I wanted to spend my day with you."

He growled as the pain increased. "You spend every bloody sodding day with me."

"I always want to spend my day with you," she said very softly as he screamed at the sharp splintering pain of bones connecting. She took one hand off his and smoothed back his sweaty, disgusting hair. "It's okay, squeeze my hand if it helps." This she said louder, meant to be heard.

"And have your hand break? Want to suffer with .... Ahhh, fucking cocksucking motherfucker!" He kicked at the bed with his good leg just to make sure he didn't actually break Hermione's hand. The vibration went up his bad leg and caused a few more words to spill out that would have lost Slytherin any chance at winning the House Cup if anyone but Madam Pomfrey was within hearing range.

Hermione was giggling, and through the pain and the sweat, he took in her smile. He was a foolish, pathetic idiot, but if he wasn't sure he loved her before, he was now. Her smile, a bloody upturn of her lips that involved nothing more than muscles and a trigger in her brain, had a doping effect on him.

"Enjoying yourself?" he huffed out, managing to ignore the pain in his leg for a moment.