'Hello, Granger,' Snape sneered as Hermione entered the dungeon. She herself looked calm and business-like. She wanted to get this over with.

'You're late. That'll be ten points from Gryffindor,' Snape hissed.

'Wha-'

'Late, Granger. You can tell the time, can you not? Or does that prove too difficult for your mental capabilities?'

Hermione shrugged. Snape was horrible, but as the smartest student in the school, she had been assigned to work with him on a potion for the Order. 'I'm sorry, sir,' she replied.

'Well, we may as well get on with it. Do you know about the properties of Wrinkleweed?'

'If it is mixed with moonstone it causes someone to feel deeply disloyal to his or her employer. So we're going to use it on Peter Pettigrew then?'

Snape looked impressed. 'Naturally. The effects won't last for long, but while the Dark Lord loses his most trusted servant, the Order and your arrogant little Potter friend will attempt to ambush him at his weakest.'

'Why would Voldemort be weak without Pettigrew?' asked Hermione.

'You are too young and insignificant to use the Dark Lord's name, Granger. Do not ask about matters you will not understand,' Snape snapped. Hermione was intrigued, and resolved to ask Harry when she next saw him. She didn't get many chances to talk to Harry anymore - often he missed lessons due to his work for the Order, and he had become increasingly quiet and secretive.

Snape took a flask of moonstone and poured it into the cauldron he had set up, where it bubbled silver for a moment, emitting a low, hissing sound. 'Granger, have you been stewing the Wrinkleweed thoroughly?' he asked. Hermione produced a small vial of a strange, dark green liquid from her robes. As she did so, her robes billowed around her, revealing her slim figure. She looked up to see Snape gazing at her, and his lip was not curled.

'Bring it here, Granger.' Hermione was confused. She had just seen Snape look at her with....what? Longing, even....tenderness? No, it couldn't be. She was still a student, and besides, Snape couldn't be capable of any romantic feeling. She already suspected that Snape had loved Harry's mother, which was why he was so bitter. But for him to like her now....

Hermione's head was spinning with questions. When she looked at him, he was really quite an attractive man. His skin was unhealthily pale, he was haggard, he was lined, but beneath it all, he wasn't ugly. His cheekbones were set high in his face, and his eyes were dark and vivid. She looked at him directly, and he could not sneer, could not help but look back. He turned away from her.

'I asked for the potion, Granger,' he said harshly. Quickly she brought it to him, and he added it, turning the mixture a clear, unfaltering blue.

'Now we need to wait for a fortnight for it to cement, won't we?' Hermione asked.

'Very good, Granger, you always were a know-it-all. But you have omitted one detail- phoenix feathers must be added to it daily. I suppose you can work out why.'

'Because putting in the symbol of Dumbledore will strengthen Pettigrew's loyalty to him and weaken his links with-with You-Know-Who. Though I don't know why I can't just say the name. It's a bit stupid, all this secrecy around him. He's back in power, and we can't even refer to him properly, we're so scared. And you call him the Dark Lord, like the Death Eaters.'

Snape looked tight-lipped. 'When I tell you to do something, Granger, it is because you are a student, and I am a professor. I hope you are not questioning my loyalty to Dumbledore by what you have just said. You may keep you impertinent opinions to yourself.'

'Well it's true, isn't it?' Hermione shouted. 'Only the Death Eaters call him that, and you're meant to be on our side, or so Dumbledore tells us. So why say it?'

'You really are crossing the line,' Snape said, and his voice was soft and dangerous.

'So were you, a moment ago, looking at me in that way.'

Snape flushed. 'If you imagine things because you have a schoolgirl crush, that is hardly my fault. Although your taste is somewhat worrying.'

'Why? Can nobody like you?'

'SHUT UP!' Snape roared suddenly. 'You have said quite enough. If I need a counselor, I will go to one. I will not waste my time talking to a buck-toothed seventeen-year-old.'

Hermione was silent. Then she whispered, 'I only meant, that if you were.... nicer, people would like you. I, well, I would like you.'

'I don't know where you got the impression that your liking is something that matters to me. And however much you seem to wish it, I am not about to embark on an affair with a student. I think you had better leave.'

Hermione gathered her things and went, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She knew she wasn't wrong about how he had glanced at her though. As she left, he glanced at her swinging nut-brown hair, and felt something he knew it was wrong to feel. Desire.

''Miss Granger, are you with us?'' Professor McGonagall said briskly, raising her eyebrows.

''Sorry Professor, I was miles away,'' Hermione murmured, still gazing out of the window. Ron looked surprised, but Harry was also looking at the blackboard in a stupor.

''What is it with you two at the moment?'' Ron grumbled. ''You'd think I was talking to myself half the time.''

''Sorry mate, I've been a bit busy with......well, stuff,'' Harry whispered. ''Dunno what's up with Hermione, though, she's been acting weird all week.''

Hermione appeared not to have heard. She was doodling idly over a piece of parchment, the same letters over and over again, encircled in a small red heart. Ron grabbed it.

''What's this?'' he said angrily. ''HG for SS? Who's SS?''

''Give that back!'' Hermione hissed. ''It's none of your business.'' The colour had risen to her cheeks.

''Who is it? Who's this SS, eh?'' Ron snarled. ''What's happened to Vicky then?''

''Oh grow up Ron,'' Hermione snapped.

''Wait, you've written a poem - ''

''Don't! That's private!''

''My heart swells and my spirit soars
As SS takes a giant pause
And strides manly to my desk
Smiles and winks, nonetheless
He lays a palm upon my shoulder
I feel at least

“- wait, who is this?''

''Stop reading that now,'' Hermione cried, trying to grab the parchment off him. ''You're just disappointed that it isn't you.''

Ron blushed. ''I don't want you writing soppy little poems about me thanks,'' he retorted childishly.

''Oh shut up, you two, you're doing my head in,'' Harry said angrily.

''My sentiments exactly, Mr. Potter,'' McGonagall replied from the front of the classroom. ''If Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley cannot behave, I shall be happy to see them in detention tonight. You have been warned.''

Hermione and Ron shut up. The threat of detention was too much. Ron had Quidditch practice, and Hermione....well, Hermione had a meeting with Snape.

She had been so confused about her feelings towards him since their last meeting in the Dungeon. Sometimes she met his eyes in the corridors, and he blushed visibly and turned away. Often if they were going in the same direction, he would take an elaborate detour to get away from her. Did he hate her, or was his passion too great for him? Hermione could not decide. Sometimes she wondered if she had imagined his gaze upon her the week before. Yet in the Dungeon, straight after it had happened, she had been so sure.

Transfiguration ended, and she hurried down to Potions, anticipation flooding her stomach. She saw Ron storming his way to the Great Hall in a vile temper, and felt a small twinge of regret. Yet she couldn't help it if she didn't like him in that way. It wasn't like she ever led him on.
Thoughts of Ron vanished from Hermione's mind as she entered the Dungeon. Snape stood adding Phoenix feathers to the potion, wisps of electric blue clouding his pale face.

''Good evening, Miss Granger. I hope we will not have a repeat of last week. Otherwise we may have to postpone working together.'' Snape's lips were curled in a cruel smile.

Hermione felt bitter. She had been wrong, she must have been wrong. How mortifying, when she thought of what she had said! Nevertheless, she would be calm and mature - he would not have the satisfaction of seeing her cringe.

''Good evening, Professor. Rest assured, what happened last Thursday will not happen again. I am not as desperate for your attention as you seem to think.''

''No? I didn't look at you in a certain way then?'' Snape said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. And yet, his eyes fell on her body, and lingered there, and the cruel smile left his lips.

''No, Professor,'' Hermione said stiffly, although she could feel his gaze. ''You didn't. And if I were to develop a 'school-girl crush', as you so charmingly put it, it would not be on you.'' Liar! she thought to herself. When you've been writing poetry about him for days.

''I'd rather not talk about who you do and don't have crushes on, Granger. I am not remotely interested in your petty little love life. All I wish to know is whether you have found the incantation for the Legalitus Potion. If you have, I would be grateful to have it. Then we need not spend any more time feeding your little fantasies.''

''Fantasies? Oh, you sad, arrogant little man. As though I would have fantasies about you!''

''I am a skilled Legilimens, Granger. Do not try to lie to me.''

''So you've been reading my mind? I thought you weren't interested in my 'petty little love-life'. Why bother?''

Snape paused. ''You are so annoyingly bright, Granger,' he said, all the while looking her figure up and down. ''Why bother, indeed, to read your mind if I wasn't interested? Perhaps, against my will, I am. I thought it wasn't possible, to actually like a woman after all this time. Do you know that I haven't, haven't so much as looked at one since I was eighteen years of age? I've kept the bitter taste of her leaving me, of her choosing that-that arrogant Potter fool, of them both ending up dead. I've kept it with me throughout my entire adult life. And now it's too late for anything else. And for the only woman after all that time, for that woman to be you! A Muggle born, something I have been taught to hate since infancy, and a know-it-all at that. A firm friend of Harry Potter's, the son of a man I despised - oh, how many reasons I have to hate you Granger! One of my students, to cap it all - it is too ironic. It cannot be, it is not meant to be.”

He was white with passion. “I just can't help myself, Granger. And when I finally succumb to what I feel, I will be risking my career, your future. And not just that, if the Dark Lord conceives of my disloyalty, my life ends there. You of all people must know he shows no pity. I cannot fall in love; it will give me something to live for. It is better that I die, sad, sardonic, and so envious of everyone that they cannot help hating me. These meetings are too dangerous, I cannot halt my urges towards you...''

''But Severus,'' Hermione whispered. She did not quite know what to say.

''It's Professor Snape to you. Remember that.'' His lips were drawn into a thin, narrow line.

''Severus, I'll leave school soon....,'' she trailed off. ''I like you.''

''And your parents will rejoice, will they, at you setting up with a man old enough to be your father? Oh Hermione, you are naive.''

He had turned away from her; he would not look at her.

Hermione turned his face towards her in her hands, and kissed him. At this, he couldn't stop; he kissed her back, pressing her against him. She was wrapped inside his robes, they were almost, they weren't going to....

''NO!'' Snape pulled back, pushing her away. ''We can't,'' he said severely.'' Give me the incantation, then go.''

Tears started in Hermione's eyes. She gave him a scrap of parchment wordlessly, and ran out of the Dungeon. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of bright-red hair, a person scrambling up the staircase. Her heart sank within her. She knew it could only be Ron.

'' How could you?'' Ron hissed, tears of anger welling in his eyes. ''How could you - his foul hands all over you, when he murdered people like your parents? How could you, when he's a Muggle-hater, when he's probably got you as some little Mudblood token - "

"Ron, it isn't like that, it's-''

''It's sick, that's what it's like.'' Ron was staring fixedly at the ground, scuffing the carpet with his trainers.

''He's not a Death Eater anymore,'' Hermione pleaded.

''You don't know that. You don't know that he isn't using you to get information about Harry.''

''I hardly even see Harry at the moment.''

''Yeah, you're too busy letting Snape grope you, that's what,'' Ron snarled.

''That's not true, and you know it. And if Snape's still a Death Eater, how come he's helping the Order? How come he's working on the Legalitus potion?''

''Didn't look like he was working on it much to me. And he has to look like he's helping ,otherwise no-one in the Order would trust him. He probably just shows up to the meetings, makes it look like he's mended his ways, then reports everything back to You-Know-Who.''

''You don't even know him, Ron.''

''No,'' Ron said bitterly. ''No, I s'pose I don't know him like you do.''

''Oh stop being so childish. We're not even in a relationship at the moment-''

''Oh, so the connection's purely physical, is it?''

''STOP IT!'' Hermione shouted. She looked around the Gryffindor common room to check that no-one had overheard, but they were alone. ''Just stop it. It isn't anything to do with you anyway.''

''Isn't it?'' Ron menaced. He was angrier than she had ever seen him. ''Isn't it? It is when I go to Dumbledore. It is when Snape gets chucked out for being a nasty,conniving pervert.''

''Oh Ron, you wouldn't.''

''Try me. He might be holding you under the Imperious Curse for all I know, I wouldn't put it past him. And Dumbledore might give people second chances, but he wouldn't stand that, he wouldn't stand Snape putting his sick hands....'' he trailed off. ''Putting his sick hands where they're not wanted.''

''Not wanted by who, Ron?''

''Don't twist my words. Not wanted by you when you're in your right mind. You know perfectly well what I mean.''

''I know that you can't stand the thought of me being with somebody else, even when we were in fourth year. One moment, Viktor Krum's your favourite Quidditch hero, the next you detest him, just because he dares to take me to a ball.''

''This is different.''

''Really?''

''Yes. It's a teacher. And not just any teacher, a slimy, horrible git of a teacher. I mean, come on, Hermione, he used to insult you all the time. He used to pick on us, all of us, he still does if he’s got the chance. I don’t understand you.''

''Ron, please say you won't go to Dumbledore.''

''I can't. You're my friend, Hermione - if you're being manipulated.....''

''I'm not.''

''But if you are, what else can I do? What if Snape's forcing you, by magic, to, to-'' he couldn't say it.

''Snape won't do anything with me because I'm a student, Ron. You're getting it all confused.''

''No. This isn't right. I'm going to Dumbledore.''

''Don't do this Ron. Don't make me.''

''I have to. For your own safety.''

''Please-''

''NO!''

He stormed away. Hermione gripped her wand, and aimed squarely at the back of his head. ''I'm sorry, Ron,'' she whispered sadly. ''But you've left me no choice. OBLIVIATE!"

The spell shot out of her wand in a bright white stream, pushing Ron forwards so that he stumbled. He missed a few steps with his fall, landing in a crumpled heap, his hands rubbing his aching head. ''Wha''s going on?'' he asked groggily. '' 'Mione? Is that you? Wha's happened?''

Hermione flinched. How could she have done this, how could she have modified his memory? Somehow it was below the belt, it was nasty, it was sneaky. Yet, she couldn't have let him go to Dumbledore. Especially as Snape had pushed her away, especially as he had been responsible.
'
'Nothing's happened Ron,'' she soothed, her guilt overwhelming her. ''You just fell over.'' Ron blinked, looking incredibly shell-shocked.

''Did I? Oh, right. I feel awfully weird, Hermione.''

Hermione felt weary tears rising in the back of her throat. She had done this to protect Snape, this worthless betrayal, and for what? He would not even have her.

Snape bowed low before him. ''My lord,'' he said. ''If there is anything I can do, any information I may gather, after my long disloyalty....'' Voldemort laughed.

''Do not think I will let you off that easily, Severus,'' he sneered, his thin slits of eyes glowing. ''We must remember how you deserted me for that champion of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore. We must remember how you left me in my hour of need, how you were not even there at my re-birth. How you have remained loyal to Dumbledore throughout this time. How I have seen no evidence of your wishing to aid me in any way.''

''I did not see Lucius Malfoy profess himself as your humble servant, nor did I see Macnair declare you as his master. Forgive me, Lord, for my betrayal, but remember that for some years it has not been wise to reveal oneself as a Death Eater.'' Voldemort looked down upon Snape, a cold smile playing at his lips.

''Yes, that is true. Few remained truly loyal to me. Those that did are being duly rewarded - to them I am grateful. Those who were not, those such as yourself, Malfoy, Macnair - they will suffer my displeasure. I think it is time to remind you, Severus, of what my displeasure feels like.''

Snape did not move. He knew what was coming. The Dark Lord raised his wand and whispered. “Crucio.”

Snape began to scream as agony pervaded his limbs. He felt himself twitch and jerk, and with every jerk came new pain. His eyelids bore down upon him heavily, all he could see were white sparks beating against his sockets, and his limbs seemed to be tearing from his body. He had to make a physical effort to tell his lungs to breathe, for the pain was causing them to stop and start suddenly. ''Please, stop,'' he cried. ''I am your servant. I am humble. I will do anything, just stop, stop.''

Voldemort flicked his wand, and the curse lifted. '' There,'' he soothed, as Snape lay panting with exhaustion, an ache running through his body. ''There. That wasn't so difficult, was it?''

Snape was rasping for breath, yet he drew himself into a bow. '' My lord,'' he said. ''You teach me yet of your power. What may I do for your forgiveness?''

Voldemort paused. ''It is not a difficult task,'' he said. ''It could so easily look like an accident, like a fatal blunder of Potter's. He is not so proficient at Potions, I am told. Poison him, curse him, do what you can, then bring him to me while he is yet weak, and I myself will finish him off. Do not come back to me with excuses. You are a teacher at the school - there is no one in a better position than you to undertake this. If you fail, it will be the worse for you.''

Inwardly, Snape wondered how he could remain a spy for the Order with a task like this. Yet he knew it was best not to muse in front of the Dark Lord. ''Master, it is done,'' he said.

''Very well, Severus, here indeed is a chance to prove yourself. Do not disappoint me.''

''Master, never again will I incur your wrath. I am faithful.''

'' Then you will bring me the boy. He will not outwit me again. He is young, and relatively unlearned. It will be interesting to see what becomes of my equal when matched against me.''

''Your equal, Lord? He is but a child.''

''Yes, but he has escaped me too many times to be a mere child. He is difficult to kill, which is why I will enjoy doing so. I have always relished a challenge.''

''He will be yours.''

''I would hope so, for your own sake. You may go, Severus.'' With this the Dark Lord vanished. Snape was left to wander through the countryside alone. His head was teeming with worries - he was almost a dead man. Voldemort did not truly believe he was loyal, and if he delayed bringing the boy.......He would go to Dumbledore. It was impossible that he could remain a spy while Voldemort waited for Potter to be delivered, the Dark Lord's impatience would culminate in his own death. And Hermione....he resolved to treat her as he had before. With this epitaph hanging about his neck, she couldn't get her hopes up - it was cruel. He had known what it was like for a lover - no, she had never been his lover, for someone you loved, to suddenly be taken from you at the hands of Lord Voldemort. She was still at school; it wasn’t even morally right. No, he decided, he must convince her that he hated her, and treat her with the business-like severity he reserved for most of the student body. With this thought firmly in his mind, perspiration clinging to his forehead from Voldemort’s recent attack, he made his way shakily back to Hogwarts.



Snape’s first lesson happened to be NEWT level Potions, and as he entered the clammy dungeon he saw Hermione brooding miserably over her books. He was not to know that she was still feeling guilty over hexing Ron, and assumed that she was uncomfortable about him teaching her after what had happened. Well, he would show her, he would show her how bitter and vile he could be, and he would crush their feelings for each other once and for all.

''Good afternoon,'' he announced, pacing the dungeon. ''Those of you who perhaps possess more than one brain cell will have had no problems with the Brinythistle essay I set last Monday. For the majority, I will explain its properties in the hope that this will finally sink in to your tiny brains. Did you have a question, Mr. Thomas?''

Dean had waved his hand in the air. '' Professor, I couldn't find any information on Brinythistle,'' he said. This was followed by murmurs of ''Nor could I,'' echoing around the room.

''Brinythistle isn't registered under that name,'' Hermione said absently. ''It's registered under hortibrinius only. Brinythistle's just its common name.''

Snape raised his eyebrows. ''Correct, Miss Granger - you never do resist the temptation to show off, do you?'' This was met by sniggers from the Slytherins.

Hermione flushed, but said nothing.

''Well, moving swiftly on. Can anyone tell me how Brinythistle is used in medi-wizardry?'' Snape continued. Hermione raised her hand. ''Except, of course, for Miss Granger, who clearly knows everything.'' Hermione let her arm fall to her sides. The Slytherins laughed harder.

There was no response from the class. Nobody knew. Hermione gazed hard into her book, not wishing to attract Snape's attention. Why he wanted to humiliate her, she did not know, but clearly the kiss they had shared meant nothing to him.

'' Can no-one tell me?'' Snape said, looking through Hermione towards the back row, where Crabbe and Goyle sat, basking in their own stupidity. ''Nobody? Very well, Miss Granger, let us marvel at your mental prowess. Your brain has grown so much it may have even caught up with your teeth.'' And your breasts, too he thought, gazing at them. Then he shook himself out of that thought. She was just a toothy little know-it-all, the same as she always had been. He owed her nothing. And while it was hurting him to be so vicious towards her, somehow he was enjoying it.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes expressionless. ''It is used to counteract Petrifying,'' she said dully. She tried to make her voice sound bored and disinterested, as though his cruelty did not affect her.

''Correct. Did anyone else actually do the homework, or is Miss Granger the only insufferable know-it-all amongst you?'' Malfoy was almost crying with laughter. He stopped only to look around with curiosity, for Hermione had just stood up.

''What exactly is your problem?'' she said, her eyes boring into Snape's. He faltered.

''I advise you not to address me in that manner, Miss Granger,'' he said. He was trying desperately to keep his cool - why had she got up? Why did she look at him so penetratingly, so that he was so full of desire?

''I would advise you not to make personal comments about me,'' Hermione retorted. ''No one in this room would deny that you are a greasy-haired, hook-nosed bastard, but I don't intend to call you that.''

''I think I shall see you after the lesson, Granger, so that we can arrange your detention. What you just did was not a smart move, I think you will find.''

Hermione shrugged. ''Whatever,'' she said, sitting back down. ''I don't really care.'' Snape ignored her as the class whispered excitedly. For the rest of the lesson, Snape would not look at her.

Finally, the bell rang out, and she waited by his desk. Snape walked over to her from the other side of the dungeon, and watched her chest rise and fall with passion.

''Well well, Miss Granger, so I'm a hook-nosed, greasy bastard, am I?'' He looked at her keenly. ''That's an interesting, and probably accurate description of myself that I did not need to hear.''

Hermione looked at him, tears faltering in her eyes. ''I know,'' she said shortly. ''But my teeth didn't bother you when you had your tongue down my throat.'' She thought she saw him wince.

''Hermione, you know my reasons for backing off that night, and they were good reasons,'' he said, relenting as he saw how pained she looked. '' I didn't want to. But our relationship should never be more than that of teacher and student, particularly now, when the Dark Lord shows his suspicions by torturing me. And the way I just humiliated you - well, I humiliate most of my Gryffindor students in that way. I am not a very nice man.''

''That wasn't just your regular treatment of Gryffindors. That was vicious. And when you talk to Malfoy, you're all courtesy and charm.''

''Hermione, Lucius Malfoy is a very powerful man. If I do not give Malfoy, as the son of a fellow Death Eater considerable privileges, somebody is going to smell a rat.''

''Don't worry about my parents then. What threat could they pose? I'm a Mudblood, remember?''

''It's not like that. I would never support, I would never condone, the sort of crimes against Muggles-''

''But presumably you have to murder people? People like my parents, perhaps? Otherwise, someone indeed will smell a rat.''

''I have never had to do so as a spy for the Order. And my role amongst the Death Eaters is more subtle. My value is not that I commit brutality, but that I am here, in Hogwarts, near Harry. However, as a young man - I did things. I did things of unimaginable cruelty. And I was a boy of about eighteen, and I enjoyed doing them.''

Hermione shuddered. ''Why?'' she said. ''Why would you enjoy murder, and torture? Whatever upbringing you had, whatever happened at school, still cannot explain what the Death Eaters do, what you did.''

Snape looked pale and his lips were set. ''Hermione, I would rather not speak of it,'' he said.

''Of course you wouldn't. It's too uncomfortable for you, isn't it? It's a touchy subject. What about the millions used as casual playthings by you? All the lives destroyed while you amused yourself with a bit of murder.''

Snape looked lost. ''Hermione, I cannot explain these things away. I live in the hope that Voldemort might kill me - it would atone a little for what I have done. But I was brought up to be full of hate. My father used the Cruciatus curse upon me when I was three years old. Our house was never what it should have been, never a haven, never a home. I saw my mother beaten and raped by the man who had fathered me. I was despised by all at school and I despised everyone. I was a nobody, a vicious loner, and then Voldemort found me. And suddenly here was this wizard who felt the same, or so I thought. He hated everything, and so did I, I was accepted, even admired. It is a potent feeling.'' He bent his head away from her.

''Severus,'' Hermione began.

''Don't,'' he whispered, his lips drawn. ''Do not repeat what you have heard. I did not wish to reveal anything to you, I do not wish to be attracted to you. In some ways, I hate you. Yet I cannot help myself.''

He looked at her pleading eyes, and felt his hand caress her breast. '' God, if only you were not so...'' he trailed off. Hermione clung to him. ''Severus,'' she murmured.

''Do not,'' he said. ''Do not tempt me. It is best that I am left alone. It is best that I am hated - if you love me, trust that I will hurt you in good time. I cannot cope with your love, I would trample on it. And I don't even like you freely, it is against my will and judgment.''

Hermione stroked his cheek. ''But you've changed. The fact that you like me shows it.''
'
'No. A man like me can never change. The poor lessons I learned in early childhood are ingrained too deeply. Please, Hermione, stop for your own sake.''

Hermione kissed him. ''I will carry on for yours,'' she said.



And I'll leave it there - what happens next will be in Chapter 5!!