For all the times he saved me

It amazed her, that between her fight with Severus last night, her definite lack of sleep, her apparent obligation to Minerva to work with Severus starting next thursday night, and the fact that she was hundreds of miles away from her children, she still felt a little giddy about being back at Hogwarts. She had been dumped in the dungeons with a snarky git, and still she felt home. She felt exactly that which she had been missing in her marriage. A purpose. Now, she had a job, a place of her own, and a bed which she had all to herself, noone stealing the covers, noone turning over in the middle of the night, flattening her nose with an arm. In this oversized prison, full of bad memories and lost lives, locked up eight months a year, she, believe it or not, felt free. She had never been more so, growing up in the war, and afterwards being married to a man who wanted her at home. Taking care of the kids. She snorted. How did she ever fall for that? It had been an illusion, fun while it lasted, but an illusion nonetheless. She had never been the kind of woman who would be able to stay home. Throw away her highly academic mind. She even felt a little relieved Ron was taking care of the kids. It had made her feel like a bad mother when the feeling had first hit her, but she realised, after a lot of tears, and hours of friend therapy by Harry, that she wasn't. She was just a working mom. And, with her job at Hogwarts, she would get to see them more than any other parent, and coach them through a period where they needed guiding. Their teen years.
She stumbled. High heels and stairs. Bad idea. Stop thinking, you twit, concentrate on making it down to breakfast unscathed. She had ten minutes. Bugger, she was never going to make it. She turned the last corner and started going down the massive stone staircase in the entrance hall. Good. Almost there.

He made his way up the corridor on his way to a very late breakfast. Ten minutes, just enough time to get his coffee. He had been expanding the library all morning, trying to make enough room for what he thought her collection would be. Extensive had been his conclusion. Just great. He had rearranged his own, making an entire bookcase filled with books which were old, but not too old, informative, but not too informative, and dark, but not too dark. In short, the books which were worth crap, but a good read. He had them in his collection for a reason, but they weren't his prize possesions.
He had put those in a locked case. And he had made one for her. If there were any books which she had, or would get in the near future, which meant as much to her as his did to him, she could lock them away. Like he did his. As an afterthought, it occured to him he might've spent a little too much time on it, but then again, he had needed something to get his horribly frustrated old mind out of the gutter. It was still clinging to the cobblestones with dear life. He'd given up.
He turned the corner into the entrance hall. From the corner of his eye he caught some movement halfway up the stairs. He glanced up, and moved on. He froze. He glanced up again. It felt a little like a bad scene from a teen flick. Yes, he knew what teen flicks were. He'd been one during the time of Porky's for fuck's sake. His eyes were glued to one step, and wouldn't move from them. Her heels came into view first. Something inside him twitched. So did something on the outside. Her legs were long and perfect, and, he noticed, looking up at her, he could see a lot further up her skirt than he ever wanted to. He predicted a long day of listing potions supplies is his immediate future. He should leave. Now. His feet wouldn't listen. Of course not. Her waist was slender, her chest quite... adaquate. And then some. And coming a lot closer a lot faster than it should be. Why would it do that? Oh. Shit.
He didn't think about it. It was a reflex. He would never let a woman fall, no matter who it was or how much he detested the person. He moved in a swirl of long black robes, catching her under her arms with one hand, and under her knees with the other. She looked up into his eyes. Oh. Shit. What now?
He dropped her, arse first, on the floor.

Remus regarded the episode from halfway down the stairs. Had Severus even noticed he had been walking next to Hermione? Did Hermione even remember he was there? He saw them looking in eachother's eyes. Uh-oh. He saw Severus panic. And drop Hermione on the floor. He heard a loud, barklike laugh. He realised it was his own. He dubbeled over laughing.

Hermione was pissed off. Hey, wouldn't you be, if you had just been dropped on a hard, cold, stone floor? She scrambled to her feet, with much difficulty what with the high heels and all, stupid heels, and opened her mouth to start screaming at the inconsiderete bastard that was Severus Snape.

Remus found his voice just in time to safe all of them.
"Let's get some breakfast in the kitchens, shall we?" He asked between hiccoughs.