Thank You

He should never let it happen. It was highly impractical of him, not to say inconvenient. But he let her work in his lab after hours, on the pretence of letting her gets perfect marks although he knew she would have anyway, and watched her.

She had simply been an irritating girl before it had all begun. But he grew to respect her mind. She was eager to learn, eager to learn from him. He didn't mind teaching her; he was a teacher after all. It was a nice change, teaching a mind that was capable of remembering, examining and questioning. At first, she'd been hesitant but soon she quietly expressed some of her own ideas. Well developed ideas, which intrigued him with their dept.

Her friends didn't understand. That pleased him. To see the hate and confusion in Potter's eyes, to see the bitter jealousy in Weasley's. His life seemed to gain a little more perspective again. The tightrope he constantly walked seemed to gain some more balance.

They weren't friendly. They never discussed anything other than work. He often snapped at her, yet she never snapped at him. She just watched him as she would a potion nearing boiling point.

He had had many beauties in his life as a Death Eater. Women flung themselves at the Dark Mark. She was no where near a beauty. Too much unnecessary hair, rather flushed cheeks and an averaged sized body. But there was something about her that made him respond silently. He thought of her much more than he should have. He learnt her many different expressions, ranging from frustration, anger, sadness and delight.

They never discussed anything else. They never touched. They never kissed. But he though about it, more than he should of, more than he ever had about a woman.

She graduated from Hogwarts just last year. She was gracious and civil as she said goodbye to him but said nothing more. He watched her go, with all her brilliant grades, but didn't do anything to stop her. She would become a most accomplished young woman and he imagined briefly that he may have helped her in that regard.

He thought of her now as he sat in his small cell. His owl was blinking at him, waiting. It would be waiting a long time. It was his last privilege before they all disposed of him. But he had nobody to write to. She was the only one he thought of, for his last moments.

The Last Battle had taken place. Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord, once and for all. The Ministry tried to round up all remaining Death Eaters. They got most of them. They got him. Dumbledore tried to insist that he was a spy but Fudge would not even look at him, his greedy little eyes fixed on his ever-present Dark Mark.

He had nothing to do but wait. Who else could he think of? His abusive father? His drunken mother? His smirking brother? His enemies, the Marauders? His one time friend, Lucius, who had become the very thing he'd swore he'd never become, his father? Draco, who was as doomed as his father had been? Dumbledore, who had failed him? There was nobody to think of but her. The girl who'd spent her time with him willingly and who, unbeknownst to her, in his life of greyness, had managed to make him slightly happy, even if just for a moment.

An owl swooped in the window to him. He looked at it, eyebrow raised. Maybe it was Dumbledore with more of his useless apologies. But he recognised the small joint writing on the envelop. He slowly slid out the piece of parchment.

Professor Snape,

I could go on about the injustice and impracticality of today, but I do not feel that you or I would benefit from that. So instead I just wanted to tell you, I will be there, with you, in precisely twenty minutes.

Yours etc,

Hermione Granger

He read the letter took a blank piece of parchment from his many and let his quill hover over it. He briefly considered writing a detailed letter of his life, his thoughts, his emotions and his strange mixed feelings about her. He sat for a full two minutes before he began to write. After a lifetime of suppressed emotions, what would be the point in changing now?

Miss Granger,

Thank you.

Severus

He did not look forward but he would look forward to seeing her face just one time.

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