Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
"Ron will you just stop, please, don't!" Hermione screamed, her arms flailing uselessly by her side as Ronald Weasley pawed at her chest.
But, her screaming was to no avail. The boy was on a mission, and that mission was to get the brightest witch ever to go through Hogwarts into bed, willingly or by the looks of things, not. Hermione pushed his slobbering mouth away, and was met with the face of another man. The face of their Potions Professor, the same man she had come to admire over the past few years.
"10 points from each of you, and an extra 20 points from you Mr. Weasley, for not stopping when the lady asked you to." He finished with a sneer, the top of his lip curling slightly.
"She didn't say stop!" He huffed indignantly. The Professor's eyes flashed with danger, and he fixed the boy with a piercing glare.
"Didn't she? Well then I will see you in detention tomorrow afternoon Mr. Weasley where we will go over the definition of the word 'attempted rape'" he saw Miss Granger flinch at this, "until you understand the meaning of the word. Miss Granger, if I could have a minute of your time please."
Ron looked at the professor for a few moments before giving him a glare which could rival one of his own, and then stalked off, leaving Hermione and Professor Snape standing in a deserted corridor on the middle of the third floor. Alone. The Professor turned to Hermione with a gentleness in his eyes.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No," she whispered meekly.
He seemed to debate something internally for a few moments, before he gestured with his hand to follow him, making a conscious effort to give her enough space not to come into contact with her person.
"Walk with me, Miss Granger?" he said, after she refused to move.
It was a statement though, not a request and Hermione didn't dare disobey him. They walked in silence for what seemed like forever down to the dungeons. Eventually they came upon the Potions Classroom, and she was about to enter, but Professor Snape just kept on walking. They reached another room, a room she was unfamiliar with. He turned to face her. The gentleness that she had seen moments before was gone, and was replaced with the exterior of the surely Potions Professor, eyebrow raised and sneer in check.
"Sir?" she questioned.
"We are going to my private chambers Miss Granger. I don't need to tell you that if the whereabouts of them are revealed to the rest if the school you will be in detention until the end of your seventh year?"
"Of course, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Miss Granger, what could you possibly be sorry for?" he asked, thoroughly confused at her need to apologise for every little thing, he had noticed that recently and it had annoyed him to no end.
"Nothing, sir."
Hermione kept her head down as they continued through the twisting corridors of the dungeons. When they came to a tapestry of the goddess Aphrodite, it was Hermione who raised an eyebrow.
Seeing the unasked question upon her face, he snapped, "Come on Miss Granger, I haven't got time to just stand around all day."
"Yes sir."
She bowed her head again, and that was when Professor Snape decided to stop. Hermione walked straight into him, falling to the floor at the impact of his lean body.
"Sorry, sorry sir. I didn't mean. I'm sorry. I...," she trailed off as she struggled to control her breathing.
He turned around to see tears streaming down her face. If she had looked up at that moment, she would have seen compassion and understanding fill his features. He cast a surreptitious glance down the length of the corridor, and cast a notice me not charm so if anyone felt the need to come down the corridor they wouldn't, no matter how hard they tried, notice them.
He crouched down to where she had huddled up on the floor. "There is nothing to be sorry for Hermione; it was an accident, was it not?" he inquired softly, watching her head peak out from under the confines of her arms.
"No ... I'm sorry, sir."
She seemed oblivious to the fact that he was level with her head, and only centimetres away from her person.
"Hermione." This time she noted the use of her first name, "I think we had better move, don't you?" His voice had adopted a tone genuine sincerity.
"That, that would be a good idea," she mumbled.
Instead of offering her his hand, he stood up, and took two large steps back. She seemed grateful for the gesture. No words were spoken as he opened the door to his chambers, and they stepped inside. No words were needed. What could you say to a child who had nearly been violated in the cruellest way possible, but she was no longer a child. Not in any sense of the word. She was a woman.
He let her potter about, and allowed her to feel comfortable enough in his chambers before asking her to sit down, and as soon as she had, he joined her.
They sat in silence; neither of them willing to break the somewhat pleasant atmosphere with words of horror. It was in this silence that Severus reflected on the past few years of knowing her, trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong.
Two of the Golden Trio were in his class by request of the headmaster, and Hermione had made her way in on her own merits. If he was being completely honest with himself, he didn't know why she hung around with them. They were the most idiotic pair of boys he'd ever had the displeasure to teach. She should have been in Slytherin, and then he could have punished the boy properly, instead of loosing a few measly house points and a detention.
Hermione was the brains behind everything they did. He knew that she had stolen potions ingredients from his private stores, and the ingredients she had stolen were consistent with a recipe for Polyjuice. That was in her second year. As she grew, she showed a continuous disregard for the rules, like Potter, but was less open about them. It was her idea to start the D.A, and she had single-handedly organised it herself. Admittedly, he had been shocked at first, but then he thought back to a conversation they had while she was in the Hospital Wing recovering from her injuries. And he realised that she wasn't the usual student, and she would be the one to break the rules, and ask the difficult questions. The ones most were too scared to ask.
Hermione had done it to him. She had asked about him and not the snarky potions master, but him as a person. She had cared about him.
"Sir" she said, boldly looking him in the eye. "Why do you do it? Why do you spy on the other side, I mean isn't it at a great personal risk for you? You come back after a meeting with Vo- The Dark Lord, and you're in pain. I've seen you." Before he could ask how she had managed to see him in such a weakened state, she charged on, "You purposely put yourself in harm's way every day; potions, spying and your work for the order...," she trailed off. Suddenly looking abashed about how much she knew about him, and his activities.
But he said nothing. He stood, rooted to the spot, gaping like an idiot; he couldn't believe that someone cared about him. He should have been angry, but he was too tired to be angry.
"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pried."
"No, Miss Granger," he muttered impassively, "No, you shouldn't have."
And with that, he swept from the Infirmary, his black billowing robes, trailing behind him.
He was brought out of his reverie by a small voice.
"Can I – can I have some water?" she rasped.
Though he knew he could summon a house elf, the act of getting up off the seat, and pouring the water into a glass calmed him somewhat. He passed her the glass and she drank it down greedily, but he noticed the way she flinched as he gazed at her.
"Hermione, there's no need to be afraid of me, I won't hurt you. You can trust me. But, you already know that."
"Okay," came her minimal response. She put her glass down on the table beside the seat. The silence continued.
"Can I ask you something?" At her nod, he continued, "why are you so scared of me? You know I spy for Dumbledore, and you know I'm only strict in class because the volatile ingredients, and how easily they can react with certain substances. We spent the summer talking. So, why? I don't understand."
He saw the tirade of emotions running across her face. There was an internal battle raging behind her eyes, and her body language spoke volumes to him; she sat, her body faced towards the door, and her hair covered half of her face. "I'm not. I'm scared of everyone else, but you have to give me time to get my composure back. Yes, I was scared of you before." And at his hurt look she added, "You saw how you had to act with ... him because I'm a Gryffindor."
Over the summer holidays, they had both stayed at Grimuald Palace. The Order had deemed her home 'unsuitable' for long-term stay, as the raids became more and more frequent, and as a result she had only been able to spend a week with her parents, before being shipped off to Grimuald Palace for the rest of the summer. It was during one of the nights when her insomnia was particularly bad that she came across Professor Snape, nursing a cup of black lukewarm coffee and attempting to eat one of Hagrid's rock cakes. She had attempted to make a joke, which had then backfired on her and in pittance for his attitude; he had made her a cup of coffee, black coffee. It had become a nightly routine for them, whoever was down first made the coffee, though Hermione did try to make sure it herself as he always made the coffee too strong and without any sugar, and then they discussed the latest articles in 'Potions Weekly'. He had never, and would never, admit it to her, but those nights were the most anyone had ever done for him, and he considered her to be a friend of sorts.
"It's only recently you've been this scared though Hermione, why? Why now?"
She struggled with the decision, should she tell him? Or should she not? He was her friend; friends told each other things, didn't they?
"He's done it before ... two weeks ago, to be exact."
Her voice was barely more than a whisper. But, he had heard it.
"Well, that was the last time he did it. Harry doesn't know, nor does anyone on the teaching staff. I saw Poppy, but I just said it was some rough sex. She believed it. She was shocked at first, but she seemed disgusted the next time it happened. She thinks I'm a whore." The self-disgust was evident in her voice.
The realisation of what she had just said hit her like a tonne of bricks. She had told him, Severus, she had told him. Hermione looked around; ready to flee, but Severus was quicker. He quickly cast a ward to keep her in the room.
"That's illegal. You can't do that. Let me out."
Her nerves were shot and her voice was unsteady.
The charm he has used to ward the door was in fact illegal, but that law had been passed centuries ago. The only way that someone would know the laws of that time, would be if they had purposely researched them, so how did she know of its illegality?
"Miss Granger." He noticed her flinch at the sound of her full name, and cursed inwardly; he had only meant to get her attention.
"The Ministry cannot track any charms, spells, or potions that are brewed in these chambers. So an illegal ward cannot be traced."
He saw her try to edge away, he cursed again. He was no good at this sort of thing.
"When will you believe what I tell you? When I say I am not going to harm you Hermione. I thought this last summer had shown you that?"
It was then that he realised that her was shouting at her. The tears which she had managed to stop started again, and she couldn't stifle the sob that came out of her mouth.
"Hermione, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to shout at you," he trailed off, uncertainty clouding in his voice.
He saw her shift, and turn to face him.
"That was the same thing he said."