Severus groaned as he sat up on the side of his bed. The sun had barely risen and he needed to do a patrol of the grounds. Kingsley wanted the grounds completely clear of remnants of the war. He was down to the West part of the Forbidden Forest and was going to be gone most of the day. He growled to himself. It was Sunday, supposed to be a nice day. He gritted his teeth as he got up. Since the war, he was starting to feel his age. 

He got ready in silence, thinking of last night with Hermione. They watched the fire for a while, not even bothering with the papers anymore. He conjured two arm chairs and they sat close, just enjoying each others company. He had never enjoyed spending more time with someone since Lily. Before he sent her back to her dormitory, he said something he never thought he'd say. Just thinking about it made him cringe. 

"I enjoy spending time with you," Severus stated in a low, almost embarrassed voice. 

Hermione had smiled and said she enjoyed their time together, too, but he felt she was being nice. He sneered at himself in the mirror as he brushed his hair. As he walked towards the West Forbidden Forest, he wondered what Hermione would be doing today. Working on lessons, her homework? Perhaps she's working on a letter to Weasley for the fifth time. He scoffed, thinking about Weasley getting to hold her in his arms. 

He didn't deserve to even breathe the same air as her. He kept wondering what she could possibly see in him. Maybe it was an underdog thing, or a pathetic thing. Perhaps since he defended her against Malfoy's insults she developed feelings for him then. Whatever the reason, Severus didn't think she should stay with him. He wanted to tell her to break up with him, but he knew that she would get angry at him and he'd most likely be forced to give her detention. 

"Sir?"

Severus turned to the voice. It was her. His mouth got unnecessarily dry as she smiled at him warmly. Much more warmly than she's ever in the past. He found himself grinning widely as she walked towards him. "Miss Granger," he greeted, clearing his throat. 

"Professor Snape," she retorted, shouldering her rucksack in hand. 

He glanced at it and her dirty hands. She must be gathering ingredients for lessons tomorrow. "Gathering ingredients?" he asked, motioning for her to walk ahead of him. 

She set along the path deeper into the forest at a leisurely pace. "Yeah, we are running low on certain items and I wanted to make sure we had plenty for the lesson tomorrow with the second years."

He knew they were running low on the rare ingredients. He'd have to write to various Apothecaries and have them mailed. "I noticed that last week when I had the 7th years working on their own potions. Thank you for gathering some of them." 

She bent down to gather some daisy roots and dandelion flowers in a small flower patch nearby and packed them nicely into her sack. "What are you doing here?" She asked after they set back on the path. 

Severus sighed annoyingly. "Kinglsey wanted the grounds inspected to make sure its all free of danger from the war. This was the last bit of grounds."

Nodding, she pointed absentmindedly to a nice patch of knottgrass by a small puddle. Severus followed to help gather some. They needed a fair amount of this. He was teaching polyjuice potion to the sixth years Tuesday. After they were satisfied with the amount of knottgrass they gathered, they headed to the empty hallow where Severus knew Voldemort settled waiting for Potter. 

The hallow was more spooky than Severus thought. The twisted tree roots under the far tree acted as a memorial to those who had been here. If Harry or Narcissa ever came back to this spot, they'd remember that day. He moved towards the tree roots, taking out his wand. Pointing it. He debated on reducto or diffindo. In the end, he settled on diffendo to simply cut the tree roots away. 

"This is where Harry sacrificed himself for us," Hermione stated, looking around. 

He nodded, looking around himself. "Yes, the tree I just destroyed was where the Dark Lord sat." His mind wondered to that day in the shrieking shack. Knowing that his death was near made his blood run cold. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was just her, worry in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Was he? It seemed him being here reminded him of that day. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "I'm not sure," his whispered, staring at the ground. 

She went around to face him, her eyes soft and full of something Severus couldn't point out. She forced him to look at her in the eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time," she told him softly, her hand moving from his shoulder to cup his face. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying the feel of her hand against his skin. He knew then that Albus was right. That blasted portrait could tell. He was falling for her. 

He took her hand from his face and held it close to his heart. "Oh, yes I do," he breathed, swallowing a lump that was forming in his throat. He blinked a couple times, clearing his throat. He had to stop this. She had Weasley, however comforting he was. Stepping back, he dropped her hand and towered over her, his brooding attitude back. He dipped his head to her and set off to finish his inspection of the West Forest. 

He could feel her eyes on him as he disappeared into the forest ahead, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He searched the rest of the West Forest quickly, so he could go back to his office. It was nearing noon, and he hadn't had breakfast. 

When he got to the Great Hall and finally sat down to eat lunch, he could feel eyes on him the entire time. He tried to ignore them, but they were burning him. He took a chance to look up. Sure enough, it was Hermione staring at him from her place at the Griffyndor table. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, curious. He stared into her brown eyes, getting lost. Suddenly, he jerked himself away from them and their beauty. 

"Severus, are you okay?" Minerva asked from beside him. She was poking at her fish, looking at him. 

Why was everyone asking if he was okay? Surely he hadn't lost his touch that bad. He raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Of course I am," he said a little too harshly, avoiding Minerva's eye. He didn't need another eye contact to make him completely loose it. 

"Okay, but if you need anything, I'm here for you," Minerva stated lightly, turning to talk to Flitwick about their student teachers. 

That night he was pacing his office, disturbed. "Albus, this is a mess. I can't, simply can't." His voice was more of a growl as he spoke. Albus' portrait watched with a glint in his eye. Severus hated that glint. Every time he had it, the old man had a completely mad plan that usually involved Severus himself to get hurt. Either emotionally or physically. First was Lily dying, then a lifelong pain of watching over her son that looked so much like his nemesis, then finally him nearly dying. 

"Severus, my boy, why is it so hard for you to believe?" 

Pacing still, he scoffed. "Because I can't." His voice went from a growl to a scared whine. He was loosing Lily. It got harder and harder each day to imagine her face. The pensive was the only way anymore, and he had to limit himself on that. There were stories of people going mad from spending too much time in the pensive looking at memories. 

"Just because you are falling in love with Hermione, doesn't mean you love Lily less. A heart is not bound by the limits of this world," Albus said. Several of the other portraits starting either agreeing or arguing about what Albus said. 

There were too many voices in his head. He couldn't concentrate on anything. He clinched his hair and gritted his teeth in attempt to silence them. "Shut up!" He shouted. At once everyone was silent. He sighed and went to the cabinet where the pensive stood. He wanted to delve into a memory of her. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes. 

"It's not good to cling to a memory, sir." 

Severus jumped and turned around. She had came in without him hearing. He was loosing his touch. He pulled his sleeves down a little, standing taller. His feeble attempt to act as if he wasn't just leaning against a cabinet nearly crying. "I'm not clinging," he said with an sneer. He strolled past her and went to his desk. 

He hadn't wrote to Kingsley yet to tell him the grounds were all free from remnants of the war. He needed to do that before Kingsley wrote to him again. He hated getting mail from Kingsley. It was coming less and less, but still, the less mail the better. He pulled out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill in his ink well. 

Hermione was standing where she was, fiddling with her hands. He needed to ignore her, wanted to ignore her. However, at the same time, he needed to talk to her. After several minutes of her standing there, he slammed his quill down and glared at her in his most Snape way. Any first year would cower at him right now. However, she was nearly immune to him after eight years. "I'm not clinging to any memory, Miss Granger," he hissed. 

0o0o0o

Time to end it for the night. I hope this chapter meets your expectations. I have high hopes for the next coming chapters. However, I need to sleep. Morning shifts tomorrow.