A Sense of Obsession, Redux

Disclaimer: All these fabulous characters belong to J.K Rowling. I do not own them in any way nor am I making any money from them.

Summary: Hermione senses that something is terribly wrong with her Potions Master. She wishes to help him...but what she doesn't realize is that her growing friendship with him is placing her in an inordinate amount of danger. Rated M...Hermione is OF AGE (that being 18) and in 7th year. Does not follow the events of HBP and DH so this fic is A/U.

Author's Notes:

Now, it has taken a VERY long time. But, I am back! Here is the long promised update of A Sense of Obsession.

In this chapter, and in further chapters, there will be some added scenes and/or slight changes to the existing ones of the original version. I promise I am not completely changing the story. It will have the same plotline as before. I just felt my old fic needed a little sprucing up.

I hope you will all love this version just as much if not more than the first and that I get as much feedback as I did for the original.

You have all been so lovely, and sooooooooo patient. I pray that this has been worth the dreadfully long wait.

I try to edit my own work as best as my abilities allow... but I want to thank Slytherin Head for proof reading this.

Once again, thank you all for your wonderful comments. Please enjoy Chapter 1 of A Sense of Obession, Redux!

Chapter 1

He understood what was coming, and knew there was nothing he could do about it.

"Crucio!"

Dazzlingly bright sparks shot out from the end of the white, yew wand held by long, skeletal fingers. The curse struck its intended target, causing the victim to drop to his knees, his face contorting in agony. But, no matter how long the pain lasted, he would not give a voice to it.

He wouldn't give his torturer the satisfaction.

"You dare not scream?" yelled the being with terrifying red eyes. He chuckled menacingly before screeching, "Crucio!"

The man braced himself, realising the spell would hit him soon. When it did, he clenched his teeth, determined to bear the pain. It would be over soon, he knew. The Dark Lord would soon relinquish his torment.

He did not scream.

"You impress me," hissed the Dark Lord as he broke the connection. "You strength is admirable."

His victim remained on his knees; he dared not stand. It wasn't from fear, no... he was not afraid of Lord Voldemort. He knew his place. This was his duty; he was to do as he was told, or face the consequences.

"I will not tolerate failure," he heard Voldemort say. "You will give me what I want. I need that potion by the end of the week."

He bowed his head, in a sign of understanding and respect, before standing. He then turned and left the dank, creaky old building that his Master was using as a lair, as nothing but a plume of thick, black smoke.

xXxXxXxXxXx

The morning sun shone through the magnificent glass windows of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, alerting the still sleepy students that class was about to begin. Term was in full swing and students from all Houses scurried through the corridors, searching for their designated classroom for that period.

The "Golden Trio", as some called them, were headed towards the Dungeons. Their first class was double Potions, much to the dismay of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley and delight of Hermione Granger.

"Double Potions?" exclaimed the redheaded boy, his freckled face depicting how much he was not looking forward to the lesson. "I hate Potions, never mind having to suffer through double Potions with Snape. It's torture!"

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," Hermione replied. "N.E.W.T. level Potions is a fantastic subject to have... especially if you wish to be an Auror."

"Just because I have to take it, doesn't mean I have to like it," the boy snipped back.

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically as they descended the staircase to the Dungeons. She was beginning to find Professor Snape to be an extraordinary teacher, even more so now that they had entered their seventh year at Hogwarts. He was still mean and sardonic, and still favoured Slytherin above Gryffindor and all other Houses. However, he was no longer making as many snide remarks towards her person. Occasionally he would, but it was never as much as he used to.

Yet, that didn't mean he had changed his behaviour towards Harry and Ron. To them, he remained to be as nasty as ever.

As they entered the classroom, they each took their respective seat and removed their textbooks from their backpacks. The class was full; everyone was there.

All, except one.

Hermione glanced around the room, trying to spot his unmistakable shadow from behind any little alcove but, Severus Snape was nowhere to be seen.

Well, he is nowhere to be seen... at the moment. He could come barging through that door any second.

Her inner musings were soon proven accurate when a loud crash came from the entrance way to the class. The door had slammed against the wall, rattling some of the shelves and the noise had caused some of the more sensitive students to jump in fright. However, to the shock of many pupils, the powerful stride their Professor usually had when storming into his classroom was absent. It was slow.

And weak, thought Hermione as she watched the man clad in black move to the front of the room and, with one quick flick of his wand, place instructions for that day's work on the blackboard close to his desk.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors remained silent. Snape had yet to utter a word, which was frightening to many. He always said something.

And when he did, the tone of his voice warned them all that he was not in a very good mood. "By the end of this lesson, you will all brew an acceptable Draught of Peace. This should be relatively simple for all of you. However, I'm sure there will be many exceptions." His black eyes were fixed upon Harry and Ron as he spoke the last few words.

Hermione's lips curled upwards in a small, gleeful smile. Class should go well for her, yet again.

As everybody sprang to life, gathering their ingredients and cauldrons, Snape stepped over to his desk, grimacing as he did. He lowered himself onto his chair, wincing slightly as he leaned back against the wood.

This went unnoticed by every student bar one.

And it concerned her.

Snape had never looked so ill.

She had a strange feeling that something was wrong; something was horribly wrong.

She shook away her thoughts and turned her attention back to her cauldron and the task at hand. She prepared her ingredients, making sure to add them to the cauldron at the correct time, stirring the contents in the right direction when needed.

When the liquid transformed to a perfect turquoise blue and silvery vapours floated up from within, she knew she had done well, even by her standards.

As she reached for her ladle, she took the opportunity to sneak a glance at her Potions Master, and what she saw intensified her worry.

He was in pain, a great amount of pain.

A thousand thoughts as to why crossed her mind, each one more terrible than the last. She knew he was a spy. He was a double agent; pretending to gather information for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while actually relaying Voldemort's plans to Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.

She dipped the ladle into her potion and poured the liquid into a clearly labelled glass phial. When Snape instructed everyone to bring samples of their work to him, she calmly joined the line of students and placed her bottle onto the dark wooden table, before telling Harry and Ron she would be staying behind for a few minutes. The boys, eager to get out of the room, nodded their heads and told her to meet them in the Great Hall afterwards.

Soon enough, Hermione was the only pupil left in the class.

Snape was busy marking essays it seemed. Hermione had spotted the rather large pot of red ink as she made her way to the front desk. It was lying open, and the distinct sound of quill on parchment echoed off of the stone walls.

She came to rest about a foot or so away from him, deciding to wait until he acknowledged her before speaking.

He raised his eyes upward after sensing her presence. His gaze locked with hers for a moment, only a moment, before it fell back to the monstrously written essay in his hands. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

She shuffled on her feet. "I... I couldn't help but notice, sir... that you...that you, uh..."

He raised an eyebrow in his trademark fashion. "That I... what, Miss Granger?"

She took a deep breath before replying, "That you seem to be... in pain, sir." Her hands tightened around the binding of her Potions text and she clutched it to her chest, her nerves now starting to get the better of her.

He then looked up and tilted his head, appearing visibly shocked at her apparent alarm. "That is none of your business, Miss Granger. My wellbeing is none of your concern." His tone cold, he continued to scribble remarks on the piece of parchment he was holding and fully expected her to leave.

She didn't.

"Miss Granger, as you can plainly see, I am busy. Leave at once."

She shook her head. "Professor," she began, "I could alert Madam Pomfrey for you?"

Her sweet, gentle tone irritated him. "I do not need the services of Madam Pomfrey. Do you honestly think me incapable of brewing a pain relieving potion?" His voice was raised slightly from frustration. "Now, leave."

Ah ha! He just admitted it. "So, you are in pain, Professor?"

His hands crashed against the ebony wood of his desk. "Miss Granger!" he snapped. "Your persistence is trying my patience. I do not need, nor do I want, your 'help'. Now leave before your House loses a drastic amount of points!"

She sighed in defeat and swiftly left the class. Snape exhaled a long breath, attempting to calm his temper and control the aches coming from all over his body.

You know, she was only trying to help you, an inner voice taunted.

I do not need that foolish girl's help.

Temper, temper, the voice mocked. You clearly do. Or, at least... you need someone's help. You can barely walk and the agony is overwhelming. You have never received a Cruciatus curse as powerful as that before.

Perhaps I have not. However, Granger's pity is not what I need to ease the pain.

Pity? It was not pity in her eyes, Severus. It was fear... she is clearly concerned for your safety.

Don't be so ridiculous. Granger frightened for her Potions Master? I doubt that highly.

Fine, said the voice. You will not accept her help because of your foolish pride and you will not help yourself. Looks like you're going to have to suffer then.

After arguing with his conscience for what seemed an eternity, Snape came to the conclusion that he would need to apologise to his star pupil.

Since when do I refer to Granger as my star pupil?

His conscience chimed in, Since now, clearly.

Snape growled low in his throat and decided to make his way into his private chambers. The essays could wait and his stress level was far too high to cope with any more marking. Luckily, he had no other classes for the rest of the day so he thought it best to try and relax for a few hours. He would request a talk with his worried student later.

xXxXxXxXxXx

As they had agreed, Hermione found her friends in the Great Hall, sitting at their usual places at the Gryffindor table. She plopped herself down onto the bench, snarling as she did so.

"'Mione? What happened?" asked Harry. "What did Snape say to you?"

Ron quickly added his own question, "Yeah, what did you ask him anyway?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied. "I can honestly say I have never met a person as stubborn and hard-headed as Severus Snape. I assure you."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "Okay," Harry uttered, clearly confused.

Ron's curiosity was piqued however, and he wished for a better answer. "What did you say to him?"

"I said it doesn't matter," Hermione hissed. "You wouldn't care anyway," she muttered under her breath.

But Harry had heard her. "What wouldn't we care about, Hermione?" he wondered out loud.

Hermione knew she was losing the war, but continued to brush off her friend's questions. "It's nothing!"

"Look, 'Mione... it must be something if it's bothering you so much," Harry argued.

"Oh, fine!" she sighed. "It's Professor Snape, okay? Didn't either of you notice how he was behaving in Potions?" At their bewildered looks, she continued, "He barely spoke a word, nor did he insult us for the entire class. He just sat at his desk... and when he did move, he was walking as if his entire body was in agony. Does that not worry you two? Even a little bit?"

"No, not really," Ron responded quickly. When he spotted Hermione's disgusted look, he hastily added, "It's Snape, isn't it? He's a strange bloke."

"Why are you so worried, Hermione? This is Snape we're talking about. I think he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself," Harry said softly, trying to not invoke his friend's wrath.

Her eyes dropped, and when she spoke, her voice was low and laced with something they couldn't quite place, "He places his life on the line every day, for the Order, for Dumbledore, for us... for you, Harry. Are you not scared that his role could be discovered at any moment? If You-Know-Who finds out that Snape is a spy for the Order..." she trailed off, suddenly unable to speak.

Harry gave her a look of assurance. "As much as I hate him, I'm sure he knows what he is doing. Though, I'm still having trouble trusting him..." He sighed, "But, that is probably because I don't like him."

The three Gryffindors soon fell into a comfortable silence. Hermione began to study her Potions textbook, while Harry and Ron read over their Defence Against the Dark Arts notes. This continued, until the shriek of an owl startled them all.

Their eyes shot to the ceiling and they watched as an owl swooped into the room from a window at the end of the Hall. The bird gracefully landed in front of Hermione, dropping an envelope onto the table in front of her.

She studied the animal; its feathers were as black as the midnight sky and its eyes were large and the colour of amber. It was truly a beautiful creature.

The owl then extended its wings and took to the air, flying from the room, leaving an echo of its call behind it.

They stared at the one another, stunned at what had just happened. It was far past the time for the arrival of any mail, so who had sent Hermione the letter?

"Go on then... open it," urged Ron.

Hermione gently opened the flap and pulled a small sheet of parchment from the envelope. She read it silently.

Miss Granger,

I ask that you come to my classroom at exactly 6pm this evening. I have some things to discuss with you.

Consider it... extra credit. And I know how much your studies mean to you.

S. Snape

She raised her eyes, her expression filled with confusion and wonder. Harry and Ron waited impatiently for her to tell them just who had sent that letter.

"Well?" asked Harry.

"Professor Snape wants to see me this evening," she answered. "That's all it really tells me."

"That git," Ron screeched. "He sent you a detention by owl? Now that is a new low, even for him!"

Hermione smirked. "I don't believe it is a detention, Ron." She placed the parchment back into its envelope and popped it into her bag. "I think it may be an extra credit Potions lesson."

Ron's eyes widened and he mumbled, "Oh, God, even worse."

A/N 2: With University being busy at the moment... I am going to aim for an update every weekend. Thanks for reading! I would love to know if you liked the chapter!