'I'm sorry I cannot be there for you,' Severus added before he turned the page over and began to write on the reverse. 'I assume there is no hope of you being able to visit at any time in the near future.'

"It's unlikely in the extreme," Hermione admitted. "I think my guards will be as strict as those in Azkaban, if better intentioned."

'I will be here, if you should escape your chains.'

Hermione gave a gentle smile. "I know. It's because of that I miss you. Because I know that my truest friend will be there, whenever possible."

---

'You give me too much credit,' Severus protested, though her words warmed his heart.

"Severus, your duties might take you away and distance might separate us, but even when I'm miserable and guilt-ridden, you wouldn't humour me and wish you were playing Quidditch instead."

'Until lately, I've never been more than an adequate flyer, so Quidditch was never a huge temptation.'

"You fly well enough to referee," Hermione reminded him.

'Not really. I'll never be comfortable relying on a lump of enchanted wood, much like you.'

"True. I'll always be a nervous flyer."

'What if I promised to teach you?'

---

"Severus, some things are a lost cause beyond even you to cure," Hermione wrote.

'Dearest, I told you once before that you had no concept of my capabilities. And if I cannot be with you, then perhaps I can give you something to look forward to, when the time comes.'

A tear rolled unnoticed down each of Hermione's cheeks. "Silly dear man, the only incentive I need is you. Being with you... in every way."

'My little know-it-all, your preparations for that assignment need hardly be demanding. Therefore, I offer you other distractions."

"I prepare diligently for all my assignments."

---

Severus let his eyes fall closed and drew a calming breath, imagining that he could hold her face, feel her willful hair against the backs of his hands and kiss those lips. 'You're guaranteed to pass that assignment with full marks. Don't be an over-achieving minx. A woman who is mourning her lover might arouse suspicion if she's found reading 'The Joy of Magical Sex'.'

"There's a magical version?"

'Naturally.'

"Severus Snape, you are a tease."

'In the best possible sense, but we are running out of paper and I want to give you the little comfort that I can.'

---

"This is more comfort than I could have hoped for," Hermione told him gravely.

'Still, promise if you can safely snatch even a few minutes in a secluded spot you will come to me or summon me, that I might ascertain your wellbeing in person.'

"I promise."

'Day or night?'

"So long as you wear the disc next to your skin," Hermione confirmed. "If I cannot feel you, I'll assume you're on other business, and I shan't disturb you."

'Agreed. However, some considerable time may pass before you are allowed to leave your seclusion, so now we must make plans.'

---

'Firstly, on no account must you or Potter or even Weasley go to any memorial services or such, even using Polyjuice. No buts.'

Hermione let her quill rest loosely in her hand again and waited.

'I know you, and I know that your grief is real. I do not make little of it, but if the Dark Lord has the head of Magical Law Enforcement, he is perilously close to taking the Ministry.'

"He has enough people to take over the Ministry?"

'A known Death Eater was able to walk into M.L.E. headquarters in broad daylight? Don't rule anything out.'

---

"But you trust Kingsley?" Hermione wrote. "You must do. You said yourself that if anyone found out what was in this letter you would be suspected."

'That was a chance I had to take. Kingsley has a strong will and few ties that might be used against him.'

"It was still an unnecessary risk."

'It paid off and we have not paper enough to quarrel.'

"We don't know the final cost yet."

'I know you are safe, as safe as possible under the circumstances. That is enough. Now, pay attention, my beloved.'

"If you insist, but we will discuss this."

---

'I would like you to continue as best you can with your training. You worked hard to gain that level of flexibility and fitness. Don't let it slip away. If you don't have space to practise the tumbling, at least keep up the stretches and the sit-ups.'

"Yes, Professor."

'Don't, please! I'm not telling you what to do because it's my job, or because of some duty. I'm telling you what to do because I need you to be safe because I do not know if I have it within me to withstand the loss of another woman I love.'

---

"Severus, I was only teasing. It was a bad joke. I didn't mean to upset you. I will train... every day. You know I have a job to do, so I can't promise to hide myself away, but I'll do my best to be prepared for whatever we have to face."

'That, I suppose, will have to do.'

"Stop scowling at the paper. What else?"

'Keep making the Wolfsbane and other potions. I will send Prometheus with some things. Leave your window open.'

There were only two lines left.

"I love you," Hermione wrote.

'Likewise. You must burn this now.'

---

Prometheus arrived with the following morning's dawn, and Hermione rushed to relieve him of his parcel and reward him with owl treats.

A Finite Incantatem restored the shrunken objects to their original size, and Hermione skimmed through the titles of various volumes he had sent, 'Better Sleep Through Meditation', 'The Grieving Process', several Potions texts that might be relevant to their efforts with the Wolfsbane Potion, the Rebus novel she'd read to him and a handwritten journal.

Wrapped around them were her real prizes, two nightshirts, one thin white cotton, one grey flannel, both smelling of herbs and of him.