Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: First: I'd like to apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up. Life intruded in the form of family staying with me, tenants abandoning the rental house we manage, and me being sick through it all- and it lasting nearly 2 weeks! That being said, once again I'd like to extend my deep gratitude to all of you wonderful folk who read and review my little labor of love.
I am utterly delighted to share with you that this fic has been nominated for the Magical Worlds Multifaceted Awards, which you can see at the following site: http://magical-worlds.us/multifaceted/nominees.htm Humble thanks go out to TheOtherRachel and SnivellusSnape, who nominated me. There are oodles of fics listed, and I for one am planning on reading as many as I can over the course of time, since they must be pretty darn good for folks to go out of their way to nominate them! (...which makes me uncomfortably dread getting notice that there's been a mistake and my fic couldn't possibly rate as high as the others!)
At any rate, I had a great New Year, and I hope you all did as well. Thanks as always to SnivellusSnape, Laela, Horserider, and yutamiyu! *luff and hugs* :)

Chapter 25- Suspicions

Hermione made her way up the stairs from the dungeons only to realize that lunch was taking place in the Great Hall. Deciding that her unpacking could wait, she strode straight to the Hall and entered. At the Gryffindor table, she saw Harry, Ron, and Ginny sitting together. Ron looked up and saw Hermione. He lit up and smiled across the Hall at her, waving for her to hurry up and join them. Ginny looked over as well, her anticipation evident, but not quite as blatant as Ron’s. Harry stared at her, his expression guarded, but he rippled his fingers at her in a tiny wave as she crossed to them.

Hermione smiled impartially at them as she stepped over the bench to sit by Ginny, across from Harry. She shrugged out of her coat and reached for platters to fill her plate. “Hi, you lot! How are you? Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

Ron wrinkled his nose dismissively and shook his head, his mouth full. “Naw, nuff’n happ’n…”

Ginny kicked Ron under the table and he yelped. “Ron! If Mum could see you… Swallow! Stop talking with your mouth full. It’s disgusting.” She turned to Hermione, eyeing her. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened here. It was kinda’ weird to not have rehearsal on a Friday night, but we’ll have it tonight, so no big deal. You seem pretty cheerful. I guess Snape didn’t hex the daylights out of you…” She raised one eyebrow in inquiry.

Hermione choked a bit on her food, remembering Ginny’s comment about Snape’s speed with his wand and how it would be a bad thing to get on his bad side, especially considering she did end up with a concussion as a result of his ultra-sharp reflexes! Coughing a bit, she swallowed and said, “No, everything went fine. We just came from Dumbledore’s office. He’s got everything he needs now, and we’ll likely see the results tonight.”

Ginny frowned enviously at Hermione and said, “I wish I could have seen the show. How was it?”

Hermione blinked, disconcerted. She knew she had seen it, and she knew she had enjoyed it, but she couldn’t remember it! Hesitantly, she ventured, “Uh… It was fine. I think…”

Harry scowled and drawled, “You think? You were there, with bloody Snape. It was fine? Jeez, Hermione, she asked a simple question, the least you could do is give a real answer.”

Hermione glared angrily at Harry. Icily, she bit out, “I’m not being evasive! I don’t remember!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Please…”

Ron and Ginny exchanged a look, dreading the coming row. Perplexed, Ron asked, “How do you not remember?”

Hermione continued to glare at Harry as she explained, albeit in a calmer tone. “Do you know how the Pensieve works?” She glanced at Ron, who was shaking his head. “You remove the memory from your mind and place it in the Pensieve. Once that’s done, you don’t remember it anymore.” She cast a glance around the group. Ginny looked thoughtful, and Ron looked confused. Harry was glaring sullenly back at her. She shot a very Snape-like sneer at Harry and said, “Really, Harry, I would have expected you of all people to be able to appreciate that I wouldn’t be able to remember things, since you were the one to tell us about your encounters with Pensieves.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he cut his eyes away. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at Ron, who was gazing at her, his head tilted to one side, as he puzzled things out. “So, what do you remember?”

Hermione thought for a moment, considering her response, making sure she wouldn’t say anything that might arouse suspicion about her and Snape. “Well, I remember the trip there, dinner with my folks, getting ready for the play, and the trip to the theatre. After that, there’s a big blank, and then I remember coming home again. This morning, I remember getting ready for the tour, heading back to the theatre, and meeting this chap, Neal.” She smirked a bit at that and shot an amused glance at Ginny. In a stage whisper, she said to her, “Remind me to tell you about him later…” Ginny grinned interestedly and Hermione snorted. “Then there’s another big blank. After that, I remember coming back here and going to Dumbledore’s. It’s really odd, the way it feels: knowing you did things, and feeling like you should be able to remember, but not being able to. I had quite the headache, let me tell you!” Her eyebrows rose and she shook her head.

Ron gazed at her with concern. “Does your head hurt still?”

“Not now. Professor Snape gave me a potion for it.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you went to Dumbledore’s. Why would Snape have a headache potion there?”

Wow! Severus was right! Ginny is a suspicious one… Hermione cleared her throat and continued carefully, “He didn’t. Dumbledore knew I’d have a headache from removing so many memories at once, and he ordered Professor Snape to provide me with a potion for it. We Flooed to his office and he gave me one from his cabinet. I came straight up here to lunch. I haven’t even unpacked yet.”

Ginny stared fixedly at Hermione, but didn’t say anything else. Hermione resolutely ate more, pretending that she wasn’t sweating bullets under her scrutiny. Ron huffed and said, “I still can’t believe that you had to spend so much time with the great bat. What was dinner like? Was he horrible?”

Hermione shot Ron an aggrieved glare. “No, Ron, he was not horrible.”

Ginny piped up, “So, how was your visit?”

Hermione smiled. “It was great. My folks made my favourite meal, and even my favourite dessert! And my Mum let me borrow a dress and jewellery to wear to the theatre, since it’s a dressy thing. I got to talk to my dad this morning too, and that was nice. They said to tell you all hello.”

Ginny grinned knowingly. “Well, what chocolate concoction did they have for dessert?”

Hermione affected shock, but she dissolved into a blissful grin as she breathed, “Chocolate mousse… with whipped cream and cherries too!”

The girls broke into laughter. Harry was still sitting silently, brooding. Ron merely said, “Mmm, sounds yummy!”

Ginny cocked her head to one side and squinted. “What did your folks think of the black bat?”

Hermione bit back an angry retort at the name-calling and took a deep breath. “They liked him.”

Ron snorted and coughed, his eyes bugging out. Harry rolled his eyes contemptuously, and Ginny raised one eyebrow sceptically.

“Honestly, you lot, you act as if he were a troll or something! He is an educated man of good breeding… My Mum was actually rather taken with him, what with him being a war hero and all.” She flung that tidbit out loftily, knowing it would get a reaction. She wasn’t wrong. Once again, the three others expressed their disbelief vehemently. She glared repressively at them. Then, in a spiteful poke, she added, “But, she wasn’t nearly as bad as your mum was with Lockhart…”

Ginny rocked back in her seat, taken aback by the barb, and Ron voiced an indignant “Oi!” Hermione smirked and sat back, arms crossed, clearly ready to parry any other thrust they sent her way. Harry smothered a snort of amusement and ducked his head from Ron’s accusing glance. Ginny huffed and pursed her lips sourly.

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t the only one who was taken with him, Hermione.” Ginny glared pointedly at her.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and regarded Ginny from under hooded lids. Scathingly, she retorted, “I was twelve.”

The two girls gazed stonily at each other for a moment. After a beat, Hermione cleared her throat and broke their connection. She neatly piled her napkin and cutlery on her plate and nodded coolly to Ron and Harry. “I have to unpack and check on Crookshanks. If I don’t see you before then, I’ll see you at dinner.” She cut a glance at Ginny and stood haughtily.

Ron interrupted her. “So, when will you get your memories back so you can tell us about the show?”

“I’ll get them tonight at rehearsal. But you won’t need me to tell you much, since Dumbledore will be creating the set tonight anyway.” She shrugged and turned away, heading for the door. She flung a casual “Bye” over her shoulder.

Harry watched her go, his eyes bright with emotion. Ginny noticed his intent stare and momentarily forgot her pique with Hermione in her regret that such a rift had happened between Harry and Hermione. With a sigh, she tossed her napkin on the table and stood, saying, “Come on, you lot. We need to practice.” The boys stood hastily and the three of them headed out toward the Quidditch pitch under the wintry sun.

********* *********************************************************

Hermione spent most of the afternoon in her room working on homework. Only most of the afternoon, because she kept interrupting her own work to daydream about Snape and bask in the memories of their time together. She had unpacked her bag earlier, and when she had gone to put her nightgown away, she had paused, holding it to her. It was then that she had realized it smelled like Snape, as he had been pressed against her while they slept. She had buried her face in it, inhaling deeply, and she had tucked it under her pillow, resolving to wear another nightgown and keep that one to curl up with.

Eventually, it was time for dinner and she went out to the common room. Ginny was curled up by the fire, reading again, and she looked up at Hermione’s cordial, “Hello, Ginny.”

The girls eyed each other coolly for a beat, then they both seemed to decide to move on, and Ginny’s cold expression relaxed. “Hey, ‘Mione. Say, you mentioned something about a chap named Neal…” She quirked her eyebrow in inquiry and Hermione grinned conspiratorially back.

Giggling, Hermione took up residence beside the redhead and leant in confidentially. “He’s the bloke who gave us the tour. He’s the nephew of my folks’ friend. Well, I don’t remember the tour, but I do remember after it. We were in the alley behind the theatre, getting ready to return to Hogwarts, and he actually made a pass at me!” She nodded solemnly at Ginny’s incredulous expression.

Fascinated, Ginny asked, “What happened?”

Hermione smirked and said, “Well, he touched my hand and offered to get me good seats if I wanted to come back to the show again, but then he said he’d give me a ‘personal backstage tour’! And his expression was positively lascivious!”

Ginny grinned delightedly. “So, what did you do? Are you going to see him again?”

Hermione blinked and grimaced. “Ginny! No! Eww… Honestly… I just said I’d keep it in mind and that it was time to go. So, we left.” She composed her expression primly.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “But you said you wanted a man, not a boy! So, he’s not a boy, is he? He must be older than us to be working in the theatre like that. Why not take a chance and have a bit of fun?”

“Really, Ginny, he wasn’t my type. But I thought you’d find it amusing to know that I got hit on…”

Ginny stiffened and her eyes widened. “Bloody hell! Where was Snape when this happened?”

Hermione fought the smile that was hovering on her lips. Dramatically, she pronounced, “Standing right there.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open and she gasped. Apprehensively, she whispered, “What did he do?”

Hermione choked back a giggle and murmured, “I thought he would hex the poor fellow right there! And Neal had no idea Professor Snape’s a wizard! He glared at Neal so hard that I thought he might burst into flames! And when Neal started back into the theatre, Professor Snape even stepped after him, like he was going to follow him! It was too funny.” She finally allowed the grin to surface, her eyes dancing.

Ginny shook herself like a dog shedding water and blinked rapidly. “Wow. I don’t know how you could put up with him.”

Hermione shrugged dismissively. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, I’m flattered, of course. But Neal and I have nothing in common…”

Ginny made an inarticulate noise in her throat and rolled her eyes heavenward. “I wasn’t talking about him! I was talking about Snape! Really, ‘Mione, how can you stand him so much? Acting like that just because some bloke liked you… Who does he think he is?”

Hermione stiffened defensively. Coldly, she retorted, “Professor Snape is my teacher, and he is in a position of authority over me. We were there on business, and he was protecting me. He acted completely within reason. I was not interested in Neal’s advances, and Professor Snape put a stop to them quite effectively.” She was building up to quite a bursting point.

“And, you know, Ginny, I’m sick of you and the boys always acting like Professor Snape is so horrible! He has done more than we can ever imagine that required bravery and courage and patience, and I, for one, will give him the respect he deserves! And if you can’t do that, then don’t talk to me about him. Keep your petty opinions to yourself! He’s a brilliant, honourable, decent man, and I can ‘stand him’ just fine, especially as I have to perform opposite him! Even you can’t deny that he has a great talent for his role, and once again, Hogwarts is that much closer to success because of Professor Snape and his myriad of skills and willingness to do whatever it takes to help us!” She paused, breathless in the intensity of her harangue. Ginny gaped at her, completely gobsmacked. Finally, she managed to speak.

“Okay! Okay already! Calm down. I’m sorry! I had no idea that you would get so upset. For Merlin’s sake, ‘Mione, it’s not like we’re saying things that haven’t been said millions of times before!” Hermione broke in.

“—But that doesn’t make it right!”

Ginny held her hands up defensively. “Okay! I get it! Man, I haven’t seen you this worked up since S.P.E.W.” She rolled her eyes. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry…” She trailed off. They sat, uncomfortably looking anywhere but at each other. Hermione realized that she rather overplayed things, and was regretting her vehement reaction.

Chewing her lip and worrying her hands, Hermione said, hesitantly, “So, um, you wanna’ go to dinner?”

Eagerly grasping at normality, Ginny nodded, shooting to her feet. “Sure, let’s go!” Hermione stood hastily and the two girls strode to the portrait hole. “Harry and Ron will probably already be there.”

Hermione nodded and they exited, grateful for the distraction. The whole way down, Hermione berated herself for her strong words, especially to Ginny, and after Snape had warned her about her in particular! Ginny kept casting sidelong glances at her friend, wondering what was wrong with her, to have got into so many rows in just a few hours since her return from London with Snape.

Harry and Ron were already eating, and they acknowledged the girls’ approach with vague nods, as they were deeply engrossed in a tactical discussion of Quidditch. The girls were silent, eating mechanically, until Ginny was drawn into the boys’ discussion, offering her objections and counterpoints. Hermione was grateful for the distraction, surreptitiously glancing toward the High Table, noting that Snape was not there. Dumbledore was intensely involved in a conversation with McGonagall and Flitwick, no doubt about the spells needed for the set. Dinner wore on, and most of the students dispersed, leaving the cast behind, waiting for rehearsal to start. A low buzz of excited anticipation droned through the Hall.

Finally, as the hour approached, Dumbledore stood and addressed the cast. “Professor Flitwick has been good enough to assist in the charms work needed to create our theatre space and sets, but we need to clear the Hall first before we can make any changes. Please exit and remain in the corridor until you are summoned. Remember, you need your scripts and a pencil to take notes of blocking. If you do not have them with you now, retrieve them before we begin. Now, if you would be so kind as to vacate the premises…” He gestured expansively toward the doors, and the students obediently filed out. Colin Creevey jumped as the door slammed shut behind him.

Neville grimaced and muttered, “I forgot my script and pencil. I’ll be right back. Tell Professor Dumbledore that I’m on my way if you lot start before I get back, will you?” He lightly touched Hermione’s arm to get her attention and she nodded reassuringly.

“Oi! I forgot too! Hey, Neville, be a sport and grab mine for me, eh?” Ron raised his voice and jerked his head at Neville.

Harry’s head shot up and he whipped around. “Me, too. It’s by my bed. Thanks, mate!” Neville nodded and hurried away.

Hermione scowled at her friends and planted her hands on her hips. “Honestly! You two… Neville is not your servant. It’s not right to take advantage of his good nature like that. You knew what you were supposed to have for rehearsal. Pay attention!”

Ron and Harry gazed at her, taken aback by her censure. Ron coloured guiltily and he sputtered, “Well, you knew too, and yet I don’t see your script!”

Hermione glared at him disdainfully and pulled something out of her pocket. She held it in her palm and flicked her wand at it, enlarging her script and pencil in her hand.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around sheepishly. “Oh… well, yeah.”

Hermione cast a smirk at Harry and drawled, “I would have thought you would remember that after smuggling meals out of the Hall…”

Harry scowled at her and turned away. Ginny stifled a giggle. Harry and Ron sidled away from the girls and closer to the other boys. Ginny and Hermione exchanged amused glances and rolled their eyes as if to say, “Boys!” They leant against the notice board and Ginny remarked, “So, I guess your folks were glad to see you.”

“Yeah, especially since we don’t get to go home for Christmas. They had resigned themselves to that while the war was still going on, but now that it’s over, they were hoping that I’d be back again. They were so nice. I do miss them sometimes. My dad and I had a nice little chat, and he realized that I’ll likely not be home again, unless it’s for a visit, once I finish school. My room will probably be converted into a second guest room once I get my stuff out of it and into wherever I’ll be living.” She paused a moment. “My dad even got serious and talked to me about relationships!” Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “I know! But, it wasn’t bad. Dinner was bad!” She rolled her eyes in remembered humiliation.

“I thought you said dinner was good. What happened?”

She fixed Ginny with an aggrieved look and said, “While we were eating, my dad suddenly piped up and asked me about my love life!” Ginny gasped in horror and Hermione closed her eyes in pained remembrance as she added, “In front of Professor Snape!” Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the horrified exclamation. “I thought I would expire on the spot! Then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, Professor Snape chimed in and told them about catching me with Harry in the corridor! I was mortified.” She sighed. “The only saving grace was that his revelation at least made my parents uncomfortable too, so they shut up after that.” Ginny’s eyes were limpid with sympathy. She laid a gentle hand on Hermione’s arm, offering comfort.

“Wow, ‘Mione, that’s ruddy awful! I’m sorry…”

Hermione nodded wearily. “Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing. Don’t tell the boys, okay? They don’t need this kind of ammunition…” She cocked a wry smile at Ginny, who chuckled in response, shaking her head.

“I won’t. Gee, after all that, I would hate to have to see Snape again. Good thing he’s not required to be at this rehearsal! I was surprised to see he wasn’t at lunch or dinner, but maybe he’s recovering from his encounter with your parents too!” She laughed. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the girl, rolling her eyes.

“Ha ha, very funny. He may not have to be here, but I’m sure he’ll show up.” She spoke with quiet confidence. Ginny stopped laughing and looked at her, perplexed.

“Why? I’d think he’d stay as far away from us all as possible when not required.”

Hermione blinked in acknowledgement of that perception, but added, “True, but he’ll undoubtedly be here to retrieve his memories, just like I will. Besides, I have a feeling that he’ll be at all of the rehearsals, whether required or not, simply because he’s dedicated to making this production a success. And, he’s so methodical, it’d be out of character for him not to be thoroughly aware of every step of the process.”

Ginny blinked rapidly as she absorbed Hermione’s assessment of Snape’s character. Gazing warily at Hermione, she murmured, “You know, I never thought about it like that. Jeez, you blew up earlier, and now you offer up this in-depth analysis of Snape… Since when do you know so much about him? Just what happened between you two for you to come back so ‘in touch with Snape?’”

Hermione froze. Swallowing hastily, she fought a nervous stammer as she retorted, “Nothing happened. I’ve always thought like this; it’s just that there’s never been a reason to talk about it. Now that we’re all thrown together in the play, you’re just suddenly bringing up the topic. I’ve always respected Professor Snape, and he’s demonstrated the finer qualities of his character through his work for the Order…”

Ginny snorted and cut in, “Yeah, but he’s demonstrated his nasty git-ness more often!” Hermione glared at Ginny loftily and the redhead rolled her eyes. “Fine! I remember. ‘Keep my petty opinions to myself.’ No problem. It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“What’s weird?”

“You! You and your ‘let’s stick up for Snape.’ It’s like he’s your new pet project. Has he replaced S.P.E.W.? Are you going to pass around badges that say, ‘We love the greasy bat of the dungeons.’?” She saw Hermione’s jaw clench in anger and she subsided, slightly ashamed at her outburst. “Sorry. Forget I said that.”

Icily, through gritted teeth, Hermione said, “I’ll try.”

The girls were back to an awkward silence, which was fortunately broken by Neville running up to the group, laden with scripts. Only a moment later, the door to the Hall opened and Dumbledore poked his head through, his eyes twinkling like mad and his grin wide enough to split his face.

“It’s ready! Do come in and take your places in the front of the audience.”

The doors opened wider and the group gasped as one at the transformation of the Great Hall. It was now an ornate theatre, complete with burgundy velvet seats in row after row, leading up to the raised stage beneath the huge proscenium. The students filed down an aisle, gaping, staring about them in rapt appreciation. The professors were standing in front of the first row, beaming at them.

Dumbledore gazed upon them fondly, and he said, with an indulgent air, “Go on. Have a look around. This is what we’ll be rehearsing in from now on.”

The students began milling about, taking in the spectacle. Hermione climbed the stairs to the stage, her brow furrowed with the nagging sensation that this should all be familiar to her. She peered down into the orchestra pit and looked up into the balcony and Boxes. Excited mutterings were sounding on all sides. She was standing on the apron, idly touching the curtain when she felt a tingling on her neck. Turning around, she shielded her eyes from the glare of the lights and saw Snape standing in the doorway to the Hall. His face was impassive as he gazed about. She saw his eyes narrow, and felt sure that he was as disconcerted as she was, not being able to remember. He slowly glided down an aisle, glaring at the students in his way who scurried out of his path.

Dumbledore noticed his approach and crowed, “Ah, Severus! Welcome. So, what do you think?” He gestured airily at the whole space.

Snape scowled and retorted flatly, “About what?”

Dumbledore blinked and stared at him. “Why, about the transformation! Isn’t it wonderful? Didn’t Filius do a fantastic job?”

Snape sighed and drawled, “I’m certain Professor Flitwick was excellent in his work. However, I cannot comprehend how you imagine I can offer an opinion on the success of the transformation, as I cannot remember what the bloody place looked like.” He favoured Dumbledore with a pointedly aggrieved expression.

Dumbledore blinked at him, perplexed for a moment, before he snapped to attention. “Oh! Yes! Of course. I do apologize, Severus. I was so caught up in the transformation that I completely forgot you hadn’t retrieved your memories yet. I meant to bring the Pensieve with me, but it slipped my mind.” He turned a searching gaze on the theatre, finding Hermione on the stage, watching them thoughtfully. “Miss Granger! Please, come here.” Hermione quickly strode to the edge of the apron near where the men were standing, looking down at them from her height on the stage.

“Yes, sir?” She flicked a careful glance at Snape and politely added, “Evening, Professor.”

Snape nodded coolly and turned his attention to Dumbledore, pointedly ignoring looking up at Hermione’s legs in her snug jeans. Dumbledore continued, “Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my Pensieve with me to rehearsal so you two could retrieve your memories. Severus, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Granger to my office; and you both can retrieve your memories while you’re there…”

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed on a long-suffering note. “As you say, Headmaster. Come along, Miss Granger, I see I am not to be spared your presence once again.” He cut a glance at Hermione, who hastily strode to the edge of the stage beside the orchestra pit and sat, dangling her legs over the edge, ready to drop to the floor. Snape closed the gap between them and stopped her with a firm hand on her knee. Staring intently at her, he chided, “Miss Granger, it would not do to have our star injure herself in a poorly calculated drop from the stage. Do be more careful in the future.” As he spoke, he reached up and gripped her waist, gracefully lifting her from the stage edge to stand her on the floor. Hermione’s eyes were wide as she fought to hide her instant reaction to the feel of his hands on her and their close proximity.

Flushing, she cast her eyes down, chastised, and murmured, “I will, sir. Sorry.”

Dumbledore gazed sternly at her and echoed, “Professor Snape is right, my dear. You must be careful. We can’t take the chance of anything happening to you, or to any of the cast.” He suddenly gazed thoughtfully about. “I wonder if I should cancel Quidditch…”

Hermione choked and coughed, hurriedly stepping away from Dumbledore, afraid to be anywhere near if he were to suddenly cancel Quidditch, knowing that Harry, Ron, and Ginny would likely lose their minds. Snape matched her pace and they quickly wended their way up the aisle to the door again. As they went, Ginny called out to Hermione.

“’Mione, where are you going?”

Hermione spun and pointed exaggeratedly at her forehead. Ginny caught on and nodded, flicking a glance at the sour Potions Master beside Hermione. She inclined her head at Snape politely and offered a short, “Professor.”

Snape drawled, “Miss Weasley.” Hermione shot a glance up at Snape and hastily spun again, continuing toward the door. Snape watched Ginny turn her attention back to her companions and then followed Hermione out into the corridor.

Hermione had learnt her lesson the last time Snape had escorted her up to Dumbledore’s office from the Great Hall. She kept quiet until they reached an expanse of corridor that was devoid of portraits. Then, she discreetly whispered, “I miss you already,” glancing furtively up at him.

Snape felt his chest tighten again and his lips tugged in the desire to smile, but he ruthlessly clamped down on it. Who knew when a school ghost or Peeves might materialize out of nowhere? He merely gazed down his nose at her, his black eyes glittering with the feeling he dared not show. His voice was deep and low as he responded, “And I, you.”

Hermione smiled to herself. They reached the statue at the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, and Snape muttered the password. It slid back, and he gestured for Hermione to precede him on the spiral staircase. They rode up in silence, both stepping directly to the desk where the Pensieve lay. Snape withdrew his wand and nodded pointedly to Hermione, who did the same. Together, they dipped their wands into the silvery, eddying mass, pulling strand after strand of memory out and depositing it back in their minds. Hermione marvelled at how completely Dumbledore had managed to recreate the theatre. Her suppressed unease at the absence of her memories subsided as she regained them. Eventually, they finished the retrieval, and Snape curtly said, “Very well then, Miss Granger, after you.” He pointed at the door and Hermione exited.

They retraced their steps, once again coming to the empty expanse of corridor. Hermione whispered, “Severus…” Snape glanced down at her fondly, raising one eyebrow in inquiry. She stared at him, her steps faltering. He stopped with her, glorying in the light in her eyes that was for him alone. They locked eyes for a long moment. Finally, Hermione sighed, “It’s going to be so hard hiding from everyone. Is there any way we can talk privately in the duration?”

Snape pursed his lips thoughtfully, glancing about the corridor. Then, he smirked wickedly and purred, “I can always give you detention…”

Hermione’s eyes widened indignantly before narrowing again in pique. Then, she noticed the gleam in his eye and remembered her last detention with him. Feeling a throb in her centre, she bit her lip and flushed. Shooting him a sardonic glare, she dryly said, “I’d rather not tarnish my record any further, if it’s all the same to you, Professor.”

Snape jerked his hair forward to cloak his face, hiding the grin that stretched across his lips, covering his mouth in a feigned cough to mask the bark of laughter that erupted at her remark. Masterfully composing himself again, he sombrely gazed at her and said, “I’ll think of something. Just don’t do anything rash. Come, let’s go. You have a rehearsal to attend.” He lightly gripped her elbow and steered her down the corridor, releasing it immediately as soon as they came within range of portraits. In companionable silence, they trekked back to the Great Hall and rejoined the rest of the cast.

Dumbledore had already started the blocking of the opening Auction scene. Hermione stopped and stared delightedly at the exquisite re-creation of the theatre and the sets. Snape glanced down and saw her rapt expression and smiled to himself. Silently, he melted away from her and sidled into the shadows to watch unobserved.

After a few moments of beatific gazing, Hermione turned to speak to Snape, only to find that she was alone. She spun and looked around, puzzled. Her frown dissolved as she closed her eyes and just “felt” for him. Slowly, she walked down the aisle toward the rest of the cast, her eyes heavy lidded as she concentrated. As she reached the front row, she turned and scanned the theatre. Finally, she zeroed in on one of the Boxes. She looked up at the darkness within it and felt the tingle that signalled Snape’s eyes on her. Her lips widened into a smile and she sank into the seat gracefully, pleased that he was there after all.

Up in the dark Box, Snape watched Hermione searching for him. He couldn’t get enough of watching her, feeling his chest tighten at the knowledge that she loved him. He settled himself comfortably to watch the rehearsal, feasting his eyes on Hermione and watching to make sure nobody bothered her. He was satisfied that the Potter boy was busy onstage, far away from her.

The rehearsal wore on, with Dumbledore indicating the blocking for each actor, watching them write it down. Professor Flitwick remained to help with the scene change to the rehearsal for Hannibal. Enchanted oohs and ahs resounded through the theatre at every new set piece. Dumbledore demonstrated how the scenery would fall, using a carefully controlled levitation spell. Finally, when the blocking had been done up to the point where Christine sings “Think of Me,” Dumbledore announced that he wanted to go back to the beginning and do a simple read and walk-through of the scenes. Actors scrambled back to places and a methodical rehearsal began.

No one sang at this stage. Dumbledore simply wanted to set the motions and see the flow. After a jerky run-through, he indicated that they should all start from the top again one more time. Things were smoother that time, and he beamed in satisfaction at the group.

“Excellent! Check the notice board for the next rehearsal time, and study your roles and blocking in the meantime. Thank you all for bearing with us on this time-consuming venture. I believe a resounding thanks is due our inimitable Professor Flitwick, for the wonderful job he did on our theatre!” Applause and thanks echoed through the stage as Flitwick bobbed nervously, beaming with pleasure. “Also, I’d like to express my gratitude to Miss Granger and Professor Snape, who were kind enough to bring me such clear images of all that you see here.” He nodded at Hermione, who smiled wanly and looked down, uncomfortable with the stares directed at her. Dumbledore looked around, searching for Snape. “Oh dear, where is Professor Snape?” Hermione couldn’t contain a glance at the Box where Snape was stationed. Ginny watched her eyes flick up to the Box and turned to look into it.

Snape saw Ginny gazing intently up at the Box and cursed silently to himself. Swiftly, he flew down the stairs and swept down into the theatre from the back. He startled everyone assembled as his deep voice boomed out through the darkness in the audience. “What can I do for you, Headmaster? I believe you were inquiring on my whereabouts.” He strode purposefully down the aisle, satisfied to see Ginny glance at him with a confused expression, staring back up at the Box he had just vacated. Hermione forced herself to look down and not meet his eyes.

Dumbledore beamed once again and beckoned to Snape. “Yes, my boy! I wanted everyone to appreciate that you and Miss Granger took valuable time out of your schedules to provide me with the information needed to produce this recreation.” He patted Snape on the back and Snape blinked under the buffeting.

Closing his eyes with a long-suffering sigh, Snape growled, “Yes, well, thank you. Like I’ve said before, I was just doing my duty.” He bowed primly to Dumbledore and swept the group with a stern gaze. “I believe I have other duties to attend now, so I shall take my leave. Good night, Headmaster, Professors.” He nodded to them in turn before he spun on his heel and glided up the aisle and out the door. Dumbledore chuckled and regarded the actors.

“Good night! Hurry to your rooms, children. It wouldn’t do for you to be out past curfew!” He beamed impartially as the students gathered their scripts and proffered salutations as they passed him. Once everyone was gone, he and the other professors transformed the Hall back to its normal dimensions and decorations.

Most of the Gryffindors were quiet as they trudged up to the Tower. Several yawned on the way.

Ron yawned so hugely that Hermione heard his jaw crack. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “Blimey, it’s been a long day! I’m fair knackered. Wouldn’t’a been so bad if we hadn’t practiced all afternoon too…” He trailed off into another yawn.

Harry yawned back and slugged Ron in the arm. “Quit that! It’s contagious, you know!” He grinned and batted away Ron’s half-hearted flail. They all trooped into the common room and sank into the squashy chairs.

Ron looked blearily about and focused on Hermione. “Say, ‘Mione, you got your memories back now. So, now can you tell us about everything?” Harry and Ginny and even Neville turned to look at her.

“You saw most of it. It was a replica of what I saw. The performance was wonderful! I can’t tell you much beyond that, since you would have to have seen it to understand.” Ron scowled. Patiently, Hermione added, “Think about it this way, you can tell someone all the plays that happened in a Quidditch game, but you can’t re-create the emotions for him. He would have to have been there to appreciate it.”

Ron’s brow smoothed as he understood the analogy. Wrinkling his nose, he conceded, “I get it. It’s a shame though. Wish we could have all seen your memories like Dumbledore did, then we could have seen the show too!”

Murmurs of agreement swept through the group. Hermione shuddered to think how dangerous that could have been. Shrugging, she sighed, “Well, that’s too bad. Perhaps you can all go see it yourselves sometime. I can always owl my folks with money and ticket requests.” She smiled brightly at the rest.

“Maybe…” Ron started to speak and was cut off by another gaping yawn. Hermione snorted.

“Go to bed. You’re out on your feet. I’m tired too, so I’m off myself. See you lot in the morning.” She stood and strode toward her room, unmindful of two pairs of eyes trained on her, one green and jealous, and the other brown and speculative.