Hermione slumped down into a large chair in Dumbledore's office and stared down at the floor below, unable to meet the headmasters gaze as she feared he'd be able to see right into her mind and discover all her thoughts and memories. Things she had worked very hard to keep hidden and tucked away, so far back into the recesses of her mind that she barely contemplated them until she was forced into doing so by a nightmare. With careful precision and skill she schooled her face into a mask into a manner so convincing she was sure quite a few Slytherin's would be impressed. She wasn't entirely sure it would fool Dumbledore, but it was worth a shot.
She took in a shaky breath, trying to steel herself and muster up her Gryffindor courage. She would certainly need it to talk her way out of the mischief she had gotten herself into only a few short hours ago.
She knew her actions had been wrong and illegal but she just had to get away from her parents house, at least for a little while. And it wasn't like she hadn't had plans on going back home and turning back into the good girl she was always expected to be. And honestly, she really was already contrite and regretful. It wasn't as if she were being mistreated or abused; a few uncomfortable touches here and there was hardly anything to be acting out about. And yet she had, acting like the spoiled thirteen-year old her uncle always told her she was.
She struggled to remain calm, assuring herself that Dumbledore would understand and save her from getting into trouble with the Ministry for underage magic. After all, Harry and Ron were always getting into mischief and the headmaster was always getting them off. He'd do the same for her, she was sure of it.
"Hermione," Dumbledore's voice was jovial as always, "You do understand why you received that letter of expulsion, don't you?"
"I used underage magic." Hermione quoted, still refusing to make eye-contact with the older man.
"Yes, and I must say that this behavior is not like you." Dumbledore chastised softly.
Hermione swallowed hard. "I understand," She insisted, "But please, don't let them expel me!" She couldn't take such severe consequences, such a punishment would destroy her.
"No child, you'll not be expelled." Dumbledore soothed. "However, I insist you answer my questions now. I dare say you've been avoiding them."
"I told you, sir, my family and I were just having a row. Nothing more." Hermione reiterated the story she had decided to stick with, hoping to fool the headmaster with her repetition and insistence. If anything, maybe he'd take the hint and stop pushing the discussion on the subject.
"And am I correct in assuming that your injuries are a result of said row?" Dumbledore probed gently.
"I told you, sir. I took a tumble down the steps that morning." Hermione fibbed.
"Forgive me for my doubt, my girl, but when I arrived to check up on you I was almost certain I saw your father striking you while your uncle held you down."
Hermione refused to show any fear on her face. "You must be mistaken, Headmaster." She insisted.
"Am I?" Dumbledore queried.
Hermione bit her lip nervously, hating having to lie. "I believe you are."
"Hermione-"
Whatever the headmaster was about to say was cut off by the sound of three rhythmic raps on on his office door.
"Come in, my boy!" Dumbledore called, infuriating Hermione as she was reluctant for anyone else to get involved in this debacle she had created. Especially one of the other professors.
For the first time since Dumbledore had brought her back to Hogwarts and into his office, Hermione looked up from the ground. Her mood quickly worsened when Snape glided in, looking more annoyed and cross than usual. She quickly turned away when the dour professor fixed his angry black eyes on her, returning her own eyes back to patch of carpet she had been eyeing since early morning.
"Might I ask why you've called me back to Hogwarts so bloody early in the morning?" Snape demanded, seating himself gracefully in a chair next to Hermione's own.
"It appears we have a situation, Severus." Dumbledore explained.
"Headmaster," Hermione protested, "I'd rather this stay between us. Please."
"You've said so yourself, Hermione, you simply had a tumble down the steps. I'd hardly think Severus could find fault with you for being injured." Dumbledore reasoned simply.
"Albus, why am I here?" Snape demanded again.
"I'm going to need you to heal Hermione. Poppy's gone abroad for the Summer and you're the next best qualified to do so."
"You couldn't heal a few bruises yourself?" Snape scoffed.
Hermione had yet to look up, but still she could feel the cold black eyes scrutinizing her much more harshly than the sparkling blue ones had. She could feel Snape taking in the bruise swelling her left eye shut, and the bruises on her wrists and running up and down her exposed legs as the only thing she was wearing was a white nightgown two sizes too small. She didn't even have shoes or socks.
"I feel that you're much better at extracting the truth from reluctant students than I am, Severus." Dumbledore replied calmly. " I thought that you might manage to extract a more reasonable answer from Hermione while you healed her."
"I told you, I fell down the stairs!" Hermione insisted, panic starting to fill her because she knew as well as everyone else that it was nearly impossible to lie to Snape. She was almost positive, like everyone else, that the potions professor could read people's minds just by looking at them.
"Of course you did." Dumbledore placated.
"Oh yes, Albus, patronize her. That'll get her talking." Snape sneered.
"There isn't anything to be talked about." Hermione insisted.
"You are a horrid liar, Ms. Granger." Snape sneered.
Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Snape cut her off.
"I will heal her and that is it. Whatever you are scheming, Albus, I suggest you stop." He ordered, rising from his chair. "As for you, Ms. Granger- follow me and I'll heal you."
Hermione very reluctantly got to her feet, silently cursing the headmaster for even getting involved in her simple family dispute. Why oh why had she ever used her wand? If she hadn't she would still be back at home, her secrets safe and sound and not in danger of being found out.
Bonelessly she trailed after her potions professor, figuring that if she obeyed there would be a sliver of hope that he wouldn't force her into talking. It was an unfounded hope, but she clung to it as she followed the very thin man through a door in Dumbledore's office that lead into what was very clearly the headmaster's private rooms.
"In here, Ms. Granger." Snape lead her down a small corridor and jerked a door open, revealing a very yellow bathroom within.
"This is all unnecessary, really." Hermione insisted, Snape following after her as she shuffled into the bathroom.
"Believe me, Granger, this is no thrill for me either." Snape growled. "The more you cooperate, the faster we can be done with this."
"Why can't the Headmaster heal me?" She demanded, exhaustion and hunger and irritation bringing out the worst in her.
"Because he's not as good as getting people to talk," Snape drawled, "Now sit." He ordered, grabbing her under the armpits and setting her down atop the countertop none too gently.
Hermione frowned at the childlike treatment but kept silent as Snape flicked his wand and summoned a glass container filled with purple goop that reeked so strongly of lavender her eyes watered and her nose burned.
"What is that?"