***Chapter Twelve***

December 1996

Hermione smiled inwardly when someone took a seat on the other side of her table. It was Christmas holidays and there was no one staying behind this year but her. Well, no one who would come to the library anyway. So she knew who it was.

She wasn't sure yet how she felt about him.

Well, how she felt about what she was pretty sure she knew about him.

And what, who, he was to her. His being her professor was honestly the least of the obstacles she came up with when she went over things in her head. Being here at Hogwarts for the next eighteen months, minus summer break anyway, would give her a chance to figure out how she felt. She hoped anyway.

"Really," she murmured. "You have the whole library and choose to sit at my table?" She hoped he knew she was teasing. She'd heard rumors from Draco that his godfather typically spent the holidays at Hogwarts. Hermione stayed for the first time this year, hoping that something like this might happen.

That they'd be able to talk. As people. Not as professor and student. How was she ever going to figure out if she was right if they didn't talk? Talking about potions and ingredients just wasn't enough. And, well, she wanted to get to know him.

It was why she stayed this year. She had nothing really pressing. NEWTs weren't for another year. She had no idea how else to … talk to him outside of his classroom or lab. That he'd sought her out was a bit shocking. She assumed she'd have to come up with a creative reason as to why she was seeking him out.

How she knew he was the wounded falcon she helped her father care for and look after over the summer, she wasn't sure. She would sound completely bonkers if she tried to tell anyone else. It was something so deep inside of her telling her who he was. What he was. She'd say elemental, but she honestly didn't know what it was.

Magic? Something else? Magic was responsible for a whole lot. She wasn't sure this was one of those things, though. People who weren't magical had mates, too. She didn't believe that was limited to just magical people.

Whatever it was. She knew she had an uphill battle to get him seeing her as anything but his student.

She wouldn't be his student forever, though. And then what? If she left here without getting to the point of telling him what she suspected to be true. Well, there was no point in thinking like that. She would get to that point. She didn't want to get married tomorrow or anything, but she couldn't just leave Hogwarts and the man she was fairly certain was her mate behind.

"Do you know how many times I said that while I was a student here?"

Oh! He made a joke back! How very … unlike him. Maybe she didn't have as big of a hill to overcome as she thought.

She slid the end of the quill against her lower lip as she regarded him. It was hard for her sometimes to separate Professor Severus Snape and her sort of friend Severus Snape. She never addressed him by anything but professor or sir aloud, but in her head, moments like this he was Severus. They didn't have many chances to talk outside of school topics, but they did occasionally. Her birthday hadn't been the first time he asked her about her summer or what book she read recently or what her favorite meal was. (When he'd asked her the last one, she'd wondered if he did know but if he did know he was very good at hiding that knowledge even from her. Not surprising.)

She'd felt bad lying to him. Well, not exactly lying. She just hadn't been truthful about knowing he was her visitor. Had deliberately not mentioned that part of her summer to him. Because she was afraid she might be wrong. That she was … feeling things around him that were just a coincidence after spending three weeks with that falcon.

"Did you often then?"

"Yes, I loathed anyone infringing on my space."

"Yes!" She laughed softly. Exactly right.

Draco understood and would sit at the table next to hers when he noticed she didn't want to be bothered. He always knew, too. Harry and Neville had certainly caught on, but that was about it.

Madam Pins glared in her direction, until she saw who was sitting with her. She looked surprised, but the scowl aimed at Hermione for having the nerve to disrupt her library's quiet disappeared. (Never mind there was no one else here! Didn't she take time off?)

"You're going to get me in trouble."

"Irma will get over it, I'm sure. Eventually."

"I still have two more years!"

"Three more terms actually."

"You're counting?"

"It's not a difficult math problem to know when your class is done," he said and her eyes widened a bit that he said that.

Unless.

Maybe he couldn't wait for her to be gone.

"That anxious to be rid of me?"

"Obviously."

She smirked then, regarding him. She never would have expected that answer from him five years ago. She wasn't sure if she would have five months ago, honestly. When she first started, she heard the things students said about him. She'd found him harsh and annoying because of his inability to … praise her as the other Hogwarts' professors and staff did.

He started working with her, and Draco, and she realized why she annoyed him. Why he hadn't fawned over her. Why he offered her the advice he had.

Could he have been nicer about it? Possibly, but that wasn't Severus Snape's style. The war was over, but he still didn't seem to really have a place in the world he'd help ensure wasn't ruled by a tyrant.

She'd had a rather enjoyable three weeks with him while he healed. Assuming she was right, and it was him. She was assuming she was. She read to him and discussed with (at) him how she felt about what she'd read. At that time, she hadn't known who the falcon was, but she knew he was magical. That meant he'd understand her, so she saw it as ensuring he wasn't bored out of his mind while he healed.

She only knew now that he had been the falcon.

How did she know? He certainly hadn't told her. She doubted he would. Something told her that he would not be pleased to find out she'd sussed it out. There was no documentation of this wizard being an animagus. (That was one of the first things she'd looked for.) She didn't get the impression anyone knew. Well, someone must know to have assisted him with his training. The headmaster? That seemed the most logical choice, but she really didn't know enough about how he came to be a spy or anything to say for sure. Sirius and Remus had plenty of ideas on how he'd come to be a spy, how long he'd been a spy, and whether he still was acting as one. None of their ideas made much sense to Hermione, mostly because she hadn't been there. She didn't want to assume. Remus admitted to her more than once that they had misjudged Severus and he felt bad he'd never stepped in to prevent the bullying he'd been on the receiving end of. He, being a werewolf, had never really had friends before. So, he'd let the bullying go, afraid he'd end up with no friends. And, at that time in particular, knowing he had friends outweighed what he knew was right from wrong.

The feeling she felt when she'd been near him while they were in their falcon forms? Even though he was unconscious. (And it hadn't been for very long.) She felt it anytime she was near him now.

It had been invigorating. Now that she knew it had been him, to realize that he tolerated her as he had. Certainly he knew who she was. Didn't he? Then, maybe he didn't.

She researched when she got back here after feeling that … pull with her professor as well. She suspected what it meant. He hadn't told her, and she couldn't very well ask him, or anyone else. Especially if he didn't feel it! That would be beyond embarrassing.

They were mates. Her falcon recognized him. She suspected, if he'd been awake when she transformed that day he fell into her yard, that he'd know, too. She wondered if because he hadn't seen her in her falcon form that draw wasn't there for him. She had no idea. Nothing she read really mentioned it. They assumed, it seemed, both parties would be aware the other was their mate.

Her birthday present was unexpected. She assumed she would be on the receiving end of a severe case of the cold shoulder by her professor, knowing she'd helped him. Knowing that a student had seen him weak, even if she (in his mind) didn't know who he was. She sensed weakness was not something he let anyone see. So, three weeks into the school year when he called her to his classroom and then offered to teach her something as a gift.

She'd been rather astounded. And very flattered. The backpack was very nice, certainly not something she could walk around indicating Professor Snape had given it to her.

She tried to figure out if it was his way of beginning a courtship between them, but he hadn't formally asked or said anything. He hadn't given any indication that he knew anything, so she doubted he was doing anything but being kind because she had been.

And then she was left wondering if she would want him to court her. Everything she researched since returning to Hogwarts indicated that they could … reject one another. There was no research showing that it would specifically hurt or hinder either of them to do so. It wasn't as if they would die of a broken heart, lose their magical abilities, or anything drastic like that.

That left her with a lot of questions. None of which she could really answer on her own.

He was a spy. Someone who successfully lied to many people for years. Some very evil people believed he was one of them. Still thought he might be from her understanding. What did that say about her that she was the mate of someone like that? It took her about a month to realize that maybe it wasn't him being her mate but the other way around. Maybe she'd been chosen for him to … offset those things.

They must have been chosen for one another for a reason. These things could be completely random. Someone, something, thought they were suited to one another. She kept going back to that no matter how many times she tried to talk herself out of trying to get to know him. To get to know if what she felt was real and not some figment of her imagination.

Why would he want someone younger than he was?

Did she want someone older than her?

Not just a little older either. She'd known for a while that someone her own age wasn't going to work. Professor Snape, though, was … Well, he'd gone to school with Harry's parents. He was Draco's godfather.

"Turn your mind off, Granger," he murmured.

"I wish I could." She really did. She felt like she did nothing but think, especially lately. When she wasn't worrying about homework and tests, she was thinking about this . Him.

"Whatever you're thinking about currently, does it need to be solved tonight?"

She huffed. He was right. And seemed to know it wasn't classwork that was on her mind tonight. "No," she answered, knowing she sounded put out by the admission.

"Then turn off your mind. I came here to see if you wanted to come outside with me for a while."

"It's cold."

His lips lifted into a smile then. He didn't smile very often. Hermione had noticed it prior to this year, but lately - since finding out what they potentially were to one another. Well, she paid attention to things like that.

"Try me," he said.

She tilted her head again and shifted a bit in her chair as she regarded first the books around her and then her professor. What could he want with her outside? Her thoughts instantly went to the quidditch pitch. She didn't want to walk all the way out there! She shook her head, dismissing that idea. There was no one else here, so there'd be no reason for him to take her out there.

"Fifteen minutes," he said, as if knowing she wasn't convinced he had anything good to show her outside in the Scottish Highlands winter. "If you wish to return, I will abide by your wishes."

"All right," she said.

"Excellent. I'll meet you at the main doors then. About fifteen minutes?"

She rolled her eyes. She didn't need more time than that. Just to put her things away and get her coat. For that matter, she could really leave her things here. Who was going to steal them? An elf? Miss Pince? She needed her coat and stuff, though.

"Fifteen minutes is fine."

He walked out of the library with her after she got her things together, only leaving her when they had to separate. Her to Gryffindor tower. Him to the Slytherin dungeons. At least that was where she assumed he went. She didn't know for certain that's where his rooms were.

Hmm. Wouldn't that be interesting if they weren't? Like her, everyone assumed that was the case. It was part of the reason he had the "Bat of the Dungeons" nickname. People assumed, other than meals in the great hall, he spent all of his time down there.

They met in the front foyer dressed for the Scottish winter about fifteen minutes later. She was curious where he was taking her. He seemed rather sure of himself. She didn't know if that was good or not. Was she that … easy?

She was surprised when they left Hogwarts property and he offered her his arm once they were on the other side of the gates.

"Sir?"

"Again, turn your mind off."

She nodded, biting her lower lip as she slid her gloved hand through the crook in his arm.

"Oh," she said once they'd arrived wherever he was taking her and had a moment to take it in. He handed her some vials, and she knew what they were for without him having to say anything.

"Fresh snowfall then?" she asked finally.

The silence was … not odd, but she didn't like it. It made it more difficult not to think about the fact he'd brought her along on this excursion. During Christmas holidays. When extra credit (and his godson) wasn't at all involved.

"Yes."

She didn't make him take her back to Hogwarts in fifteen minutes, and was pretty sure he had more vials of freshly fallen and untainted snow than he needed by the time they were done.

And, for a little while at least, she was able to stop thinking about … everything. Whether he knew it or not, she appreciated that.

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com