A wave of emotions washed over her as she ran blindly in the night, clutching her school robes around her. Pain lanced through her at various spots and fear compelled her to move faster through the streets of Hogsmeade. She wasn't sure where she was going. All she knew was she had to get away. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried not to think about it. She closed them for a moment to try and cease them from coming. That was all that was needed. She collided into something soft yet unyielding and knew she had run into somebody. She was just going to mutter an apology without looking up when the person spoke.

"Watch where you are going. Trying to mow people over is not exactly good manners."

Hermione looked up in shock. What had her chances been of running into him?

Professor Severus Snape had muttered the comment as a spur of the moment reaction of annoyance, not thinking that the person that had tried to bowl him over could be one of his students, much less Hermione Granger. When that surprise wore off, shock replaced it. As he looked at her face, he noticed the start of a nasty bruise blooming under her left eye and a red mark covered her right cheek. "Miss Granger," he stated. "Are you all right?"

She quickly averted her gaze back to the ground. "Of course I am, Professor." With that excuse she tried to swiftly walk by him.

His arm shot out, and he caught the sleeve of her robe, momentarily opening its front to reveal a glimpse of torn fabric. "I don't think you are," he declared in a dark tone. She started to protest, but before she could fight him, he pulled her close to him and Disapparated from the busy scene. Moments later they touched down at the gate of Hogwarts near the forbidden forest, silence ensuing them both until she broke it.

"Why did you bring me here?"she asked.

"To take you to Madame Pomfrey of course," he ground out, trying not to become irritated.

A look of panic filled her eyes. "No," she said frantically as she pushed away from him. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because if anyone finds out... their opinion of me will change. They will see me as weak." Her eyes shifted downward to focus on the grass at their feet. "It's bad enough you had to see me like this."

Professor Snape sighed. He knew he could be harsh at times, but he wouldn't force the girl into doing anything. "Fine," he said and noticed that she relaxed visibly. "I won't take you to Pomfrey, but since I have already seen you, I will tend to you." The tension that had briefly left was back again, now almost twice as strong. He could feel his aggravation building up, but he pushed it down stubbornly. He knew if he was to lose his temper, he would likely upset her, or worse, make her flee from him. "Miss Granger, I just want to help you. You can have full confidence that I will not disclose any of this to another person." He held out one of his hands, hoping she would accept what he said as the truth.

She eyed him warily for a moment, then accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her. As they walked in silence, she glanced up at him, studying his profile, trying to determine his motives. She was surprised at how warm his hand was. As she pulled herself out of her thoughts, she discovered they were in what appeared to be a moderately sized study. Save for the door and the fireplace, all the walls were covered with shelves that brimmed with books and various objects. Had Hermione been in a better situation, she would probably have been eager to look through the shelves and see what kinds of literature would interest him enough to be in his private collection. Professor Snape started a fire with a flick of his wand to ward off the cool air. Despite the fact that it was only early August, the dungeons had an eternal chill to them. There were two overstuffed reading chairs sitting in the middle of the room facing the fireplace. By the firelight she could barely make out their color to be dull silver.

Professor Snape sat down in one and motioned for her to stand in front of him. "Open your robes," he stated once she was near him. She looked reluctant, but opened it without argument. The sight that met him sent him into a silent outrage. He wanted to leap up and demand to know who had done this, but he didn't want to upset her more. From what he could make out, her outfit had been a sleeveless red shirt with a gray a-line skirt. The shirt had been ripped open and showed an equally damaged bra. A tear ran jaggedly down one side of the skirt giving Professor Snape proof of what he thought had completely happened.

"Miss Granger," he whispered softly as he motioned her even closer. She moved close enough that her skirt brushed against his knees. "You do remember that medical magic works better with potions and hands-on contact rather than wand waving due to how fragile flesh is, correct?"

She nodded her head gingerly and looked up into his eyes. She was surprised to see they held sympathy and understanding in them rather than pity. She wondered for a moment how often he had returned battered from Voldemort's callings. Her thoughts were broken as he reached out gently and pulled back her ruined top to reveal her breasts. She turned her head and averted her eyes, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. His breath inhaled involuntarily and Hermione could sense his anger and shock.

Several overlapping bruises and teeth marks crowded the delicate skin. He again bit down his impulse to demand her assailant's name as he silently prepared himself for his task. "This is going to hurt," he told her as a means of getting her permission.

"I know."

"Last chance to go to Pomfrey instead," he said, hoping she might decide to back out and go to someone who was more capable in these delicate situations. He was surprised as she grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her damaged chest. He looked up into her hazel colored eyes as a hiss escaped her mouth.

"Please Professor," she managed to choke out. "I trust you."

Not exactly put at ease, but more comfortable than he was before, he gently added his other hand and began to murmur the healing words. He watched as a warm blue glow enveloped his hands and the bruises drained away to leave the skin freshly peach. The teeth marks took a few minutes longer and he apologized when he had to squeeze her to make sure the bites had done no internal damage.

Hermione watched in silence as he worked, her eyes concentrated on his hands. They looked elegant up close, encased in the blue light as they cupped her wounded body. When he moved them up to her face, she felt a tingling that almost made her lightheaded. She stared into his midnight colored eyes as he chanted.

He examined her face and chest, satisfied the work was as best as was expected from someone who did not specialize in healing. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked afterwards. Her cheeks stained crimson once more. "Yes, but I can just let it heal on its own," she muttered, focusing on the floor again.

Professor Snape shot her a sour look and stood up. She backed up in surprise and watched as he left the room. A few minutes later he came back with a couple of bottles. "This potion will help clean and sterilize the area against any... foreign matter. Just flush the area with it. The other is a balm to help prevent infection and will ease any discomfort."

She said a quiet "thank you," and accepted what he gave her. They were silent for a moment and then he cleared his throat awkwardly. She looked up at him as he began to speak again.

"It would help you heal if you got a shower and a good night's rest. Unfortunately, I can't send you up to your dorm due to the elves haven't finished their cleaning quite yet." He turned around and started walking to another room. "Follow me," he called out over his shoulder. Hermione followed him into what she realized with mild interest was his bedroom. He went to a drawer and pulled out some clothing and handed it to her. "My bathroom is through that door." He motioned to the right. "Clean yourself up and change into this. You can take the bed and I'll take the couch."

He may have wanted to say more, but she didn't give him the chance and bolted for the bathroom, clutching the clothes and medicine to her chest. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Finally, she allowed everything she was feeling to break free. She crumbled to the floor under the weight of it and couldn't fight the sob that rose up in her throat. Hermione buried her face in her hands as the tears flowed freely.

Professor Snape heard her the moment she began to cry. He wished there was something more he could do for her, but he knew he couldn't. This was something she would have to come to terms with. Even though he had found her annoying at times, he had always secretly admired her ambition and her unceasing craving for knowledge. She was also very kind and loyal to everyone around her. He felt an almost blinding rage to know that some monster of a man could actually take advantage of such an innocent young woman.

She cried for a long time, but finally he heard the sound of water and the shower springing to life. He sighed, thankful yet worried at the same time as he spread one of his old afghans across his gray couch and retrieved a pillow from his bed. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was clothed in one of his old white t-shirts and a pair of dark-green pajama pants that she had rolled up at the bottom. Her hair had flattened out from the shower into soft waves, and he silently approved of it. Unfortunately, he knew it would be back to its normal frizzy chaos once it was dry.

She looked around the room with no small amount of awe. He sometimes forgot that to those not accustomed to his lavish tastes, his bedchamber might seem rather extravagant. It was a large room that had plush dark green carpet and a large fireplace that gave it a warm feel. There were his couch and an oak coffee table off to one side of the fireplace, and on the other side was the door that led to his bathroom. Directly across from the fireplace was his king-size bed draped in an emerald comforter and surrounded by dull silver curtains. There was a door off to the right side of the bed that opened to his closet, and the other side of the bed held a bookshelf that was just as filled as the ones in his study were.

He watched as she timidly stepped over to the bed pulled back the curtains. She turned around at the sound of him removing his boots and watched as he shrugged off his dark robes to leave him simply in his charcoal-gray button-up shirt and black slacks. He lied down on the couch and covered himself with the blanket, instantly wishing he had bought a bigger couch as he found his feet hanging off the end. He knew it was foolish to not simply transfigure it into a bed, but his stubborn side decided that he could endure going Muggle for the night and sleeping on the odd surface.

Professor Snape closed his eyes and was trying to get comfortable when he heard her clear her throat. "Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked, not even opening his eyes.

"This bed is awfully big, Professor," she said.

"I know. I prefer it that way." The remark was sarcastic but it held none of the bite his tone usually did.

"Why don't..." she trailed off. "Why don't we both sleep here rather than you ending up with a bad back from sleeping on a couch that is clearly too small?"

"I don't think that's a good idea Miss Granger."

He heard the covers rustling on the bed as she started to get up. "Fine then, I'll take the couch."

Professor Snape allowed a bit of irritation to seep into his voice as he stood. She approached him and stood defiantly in front of him. "The couch is not where you'll be staying tonight."

"I won't be putting you out any further than I already have," she insisted.

They glared at each other for a few moments before he sighed loudly. Thinking how badly she really needed to rest, he grumbled a "fine" in defeat. As he picked up his pillow, he barely caught her giving a small smile of triumph. He just decided to remain quiet as he trudged back to the bed behind her. He let her choose a side of the bed and then took the opposite of her, leaving a wide and safe space between them.

Now in the comfort of his own bed, sleep threatened to overtake him very easily, which surprised him. Normally he didn't sleep that well, but he decided he was grateful enough just to fall asleep. He awoke a few minutes later to hear some kind of noise. He rolled over and by the dim glow of the firelight saw her turned away from him. She had her face buried in the pillow, trying to muffle her cries. It pained him to see her like this. He was certain she must loathe herself for showing her weakness in front of the dreaded potions Professor. He would be truthful that he was more inclined to be a recluse than to have companionship. The trade-off for his actions was he desired to comfort her, but was uncertain on how. Despite that, he decided to give it a try. He moved a little closer to her side. Maybe he could just make a small gesture to let her know that he cared. He reached out and placed a hand on her back. She stopped crying instantly at his touch and stiffened underneath him.

"Miss Granger, if there is anything–" He broke off in mid-sentence as she rolled over and pressed herself against him, her hands clutching the front of his shirt.

She looked up at him, the tears in her hazel eyes glistening faintly in the dim light. "I know it's stupid of me to ask, because you probably won't, but would you just hold me?" She saw some emotion pass through his dark eyes, but wordlessly he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. She buried her face in his shirt as she felt his chin rest on the top of her head. And as his hands began a soothing rub on her back, she silently cried herself to sleep.

The next morning Hermione awoke to find herself alone. His side of the bed was somewhat tidied up and there was a note on his pillow. She picked up the parchment and read it silently, admiring his handwriting as she did so.

I've mended your clothes and breakfast is waiting for you in the Study. I'm sure you can entertain yourself for the day, –S.S.

"Well, that was very straight and to the point," she muttered to herself. She looked down at the foot of the bed and noticed her clothes, neatly folded lying on his side. She picked them up and walked in the direction of the bathroom, choosing not to eat. After last night, she couldn't seem to find her appetite. This time, as she stepped into the bathroom, she was in a stable enough mind to admire the dark marble that adorned all the surfaces. She drew a hot bath and climbed in, the deep tub almost like a shallow pool. As she closed her eyes and let the heat of the water sink into her, she let her thoughts go back to the previous night

She was in a struggle with herself. Her emotional side just wanted to ignore everything and pretend that nothing had happened. Her logical side knew that she had to face facts. Her bare skin glistened in the water and she looked at her breasts, which bore no marks. She remembered the feel of Professor Snape's hands on her and went into deep thought. He had been so unexpectedly... unlike himself. She had expected him to drag her to the infirmary and interrogate her the whole time she was there. Instead he had helped patch her up and not even pushed her to talk. The most surprising part of the night had been when he had held her while she cried. Looking back, she felt kind of foolish, but at the time, it was almost natural. The last memory she had of the night had been warmth and the faint smell of sandalwood as she had drifted off to sleep. She realized that last night had been something rare. Even though she couldn't claim to know him that well, she knew that Professor Severus Snape was generally not a very touchyfeely kind of person.

She knew what happened next time she saw him would have to be decided by him. Either he would want to pretend it didn't happen, which she would do if that was what he wanted, or he would demand to know the name of her assailant. The second option was a little harder for her to think about. She was grateful, and believed he deserved an explanation, but she would not give the name if he asked.

Please just pretend it didn't happen, she thought silently.

After a few more minutes of mindless soaking, she climbed out and dried off. She grabbed the balm and applied another coat to the scratches on her thighs that she had not let him tend to. She figured some of the deeper ones may leave light scars due to she had not been of right mind to cast the necessary incantation to stop scaring. Ignoring the sting of the balm, she pulled on her skirt and blouse.

After exiting the bathroom, Hermione found her cloak and fished her wand out of the pocket. She performed a drying charm on her hair and wound it into a bun. She knew that without her shampoo it would frizz horribly. Still intending to ignore breakfast, she wandered into the Study, the thought of scanning his bookshelves luring her.

"Miss Hermione!"

The shrill cry startled her into jumping, and she dropped the book she had just picked up from a shelf. Taking a deep breath, she retrieved the book and turned around to face a grinning house elf. "Dobby, you scared me."

His smile started to falter. "Dobby didn't mean to scare Miss. Dobby excited to see Miss Hermione. It has been a long summer without Miss Hermione and her friends."

"Don't worry Dobby," she sighed. "I am fine. Did you need something?"

"Master Severus sent Dobby to get your trunk and move it to your room. We are finished cleaning the houses now."

She reached into the left pocket of her robes, fished out her shrunken trunk and handed it to the elf. "Thank you, Dobby. Before you go, would you possibly know where Professor Snape is?"

"Master Severus is the potions classroom. If Miss Hermione is needing him today, that is where Master Severus will be."

She thanked him again and with another smile and a pop he left her alone. She pondered to herself what the professor could possibly be brewing. Seeing as he hadn't told her directly not to bother him today, she debated whether or not to go see him. "Maybe I'll just take a walk first," she announced to no one in particular and made her way out of his quarters.

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"Bugger, this is boring," he muttered under his breath as he stared out one of the numerous windows of the library. He had three books spread out in front of him along with several rolls of parchment and a quill that he was currently tapping on the table. He was supposed to be coming up with a research idea for a final year potions project which was going to serve as his cover-up "story." The only problem was that potions really did not interest him. So he sat, staring out the window and wishing to be anywhere but Hogwarts and spending the last few weeks of freedom studying. What he would give to be in Hogsmeade and maybe to even catch a glimpse of–

"What the...?" He said out loud as he saw the person he was just thinking about making her way across the grounds. "You have definitely lost it. Sure she loves studying, but you are currently the only poor sod in this school. That is not her walking by in a sexy little skirt and top with her hair pulled back... God you are nuts! Even talking to yourself!" He stopped his rambling and looked down at the table and then back at the window to see her gone. Had she really been there? Or was it wishful thinking? He pushed away from the table and made his way down to the dungeons. If anyone would know, it would have to be he.

A couple of minutes later he pushed his way into the classroom and called out, "Hey Severus, would you–" and froze mid-sentence as he found the person in question standing next to the Professor.

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"Miss Granger, what a surprise," Professor Snape said, not even looking up as she entered. "I actually wondered how long you could push down your undying curiosity before you sought me out."

"I'll um... I'll leave sir," she stammered and turned around quickly to make her way out of the room.

"Miss Granger," he called out after her, stopping her mid-step. "I apologize. I know you may think it beyond me, but I was simply teasing you. Your presence is not bothersome. In fact, I needed to talk to you."

Looking reluctant, she walked back to him. "Yes Professor?"

"I'm sure you know that nothing goes unnoticed by our Headmaster for very long," he started as he put down his spoon and looked up from the cauldron. "Because of this, this morning I alerted him to your presence." At her panicked look, he rushed to reassure. "He does not know your real reason for being here, however. I am telling you this because I have told him that you are simply starting early on a project that I have assigned you in potions that will last throughout the year. If you are successful in the project, it may lead to me extending an offer of an apprenticeship to you. Of course, you don't have to accept the apprenticeship; this is merely a cover for you to be here."

"I'm not exactly your favorite person sir," she said as she peeked into his cauldron. "Wouldn't it look suspicious if I am the only person doing this?"

"Fortunately you are not. There is someone else that is currently" He was interrupted by a brooding young Slytherin standing at the door.

"Hey Severus, would you–" He stopped mid-sentence as he took in the scene.

They both turned to stare at the new occupant of the room.

"Malfoy?" Hermione stated in surprise. Besides his expression of confusion, he was also sporting a rather nasty, yet evidently a few days old, black eye.

"Granger," Malfoy replied after a moment. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"You could say that statement is mutual," she replied.

"Actually it is best that you showed yourself, Draco," Professor Snape interjected. "Miss Granger will be the other student competing for the apprenticeship." Hermione and Draco's mouths fell open as his lips curled into a insidious grin. "I suggest that you head to the library, Miss Granger. It is your responsibility to come up with your thesis and what you intend to accomplish with this project. I hope that the endeavors you two will undertake will at least be interesting."

"Of course, Professor Snape," Hermione replied, made her way around Malfoy and out the door.

"Bloody Hell," Malfoy muttered a moment after she had left. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, pushing it back, and looked at his godfather with narrowed eyes. "Did you have this planned?"

"As much as I would love to claim I did, Draco, I cannot. Let's just say Miss Granger is in a situation that is similar to yoursin need of refuge."

The young man made a grunt at the comment and then stalked out, headed back to the library.

He came upon Hermione sitting at his table and looking over his notes. He was suddenly glad that he hadn't been writing anything personal. She looked up at his approach and he was momentarily distracted by a loose tendril of hair that curled against one of her cheeks.

"This is a little odd," Draco started. "The head boy and girl competing against each other for a scholarship."

She sighed and pushed his parchments away from her. "Yes it is. Would you mind researching together?"

Draco had a brief thought of being in the shared common room for the head students, curled up with a book and her resting her head on his shoulder. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. "Course not. The company would be nice after a week of having been all by myself." He was silently delighted to see her give a small smile and returned it with one of his own as he sat down and joined her.

Later that evening Hermione sat in Professor Snape's study with a book in her lap, staring off into the fire that crackled in the fireplace. The afternoon had been oddly pleasant. Malfoy had not made one condescending comment towards her and had actually made some interesting small talk about various topics. It was odd, but at the same time not unexpected. At the beginning of sixth year, she had noticed that he had stopped calling her "Mudblood." He seemed to avoid her at all cost when he had been in the presence of fellow Slytherins, but when alone, he was civil, if not necessarily friendly. She had always wondered what had brought about the change, but had never thought to ask, thinking it would jinx the situation. But now, with the mysterious black eye and the accepting of her companionship this afternoon, her curiosity was starting to gnaw at her. She sighed to herself and went back to the book. Maybe in a while she could get him to open up to her.

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Professor Snape Floo to his bedroom fireplace after having deliberately stayed late in the lab, hoping that Hermione would have vacated his chambers. He found he had no luck, however, as he entered his study to find her curled up in his favourite chair with one of his potions texts. From the back he saw her hair damp and pulled up in a loose bun, a few dark tendrils escaping. She wore a Bulgarian quidditch jersey that had KRUM stitched across the part that draped the top of her back. "Were there not enough books in the library Miss Granger?" he inquired, hiding a small smirk as she jumped slightly in startlement.

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"I'm sorry Professor," she apologized.

He sighed and waved away her words. "Please. I'm sure you of all people will be careful with a rare text. However, what really has me curious is that you are still here. Certainly your room has been made acceptable by the house elves' standards?"

"Yes, but..." she trailed off for a moment and then started back quietly, "I... couldn't be alone."

Professor Snape fought down his urge to sigh again. He knew he would have to have patience with the girl. "Very well," he found himself saying. "You can stay in my quarters until you feel comfortable enough to be alone or until the rest of Gryffindor returns. I will transfigure the couch for you. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to take a shower and get cleaned up." He swept out of the room, not waiting for her response.

"Oh Professor?" she called out after him, making him stop just a foot inside the door of the bedroom. "I need to go to Diagon Alley to retrieve a few things tomorrow. Do you think you can escort me?"

"That should be acceptable." He went into the bathroom and shut the door. Without further ado, he stripped bare and stepped into the shower. After fifteen minutes of water pounding against his tired frame, he finally scrubbed himself with soap and climbed out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his slim frame and leaned over the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His damp hair hung down in strings over his face, and his hook nose protruded through the strands. His eyes' reflection was as black as tar, and he narrowed them as he examined his teeth in the mirror. Crooked and slightly yellow, he silently wished he had not smoked in the early years of his life. He sighed as he observed the man in the mirror that stared back at him. How had it come to this? Being forty and alone, the only thing to show for his life being tobacco stained teeth and a collection of scars scattered about his pale frame. He thought about the turn of events with first Draco and now Hermione.

He had never been one to try and rescue the needy, but nonetheless both his godson and one of his most promising students were in Hogwarts being sheltered by him. He shook his head. Maybe that doddering old man was finally rubbing off on him. Deciding he didn't want to think about himself becoming a "softy," he summoned his nightclothes from his room and changed. After brushing his hair and teeth, he walked back out and transfigured the couch into a full size bed. He nodded somewhat in approval. Transfiguration had never been his best subject, but it would suffice. He decided he would go to the study and talk to her about the project for a while so she knew what his expectations were.

"I hope that Mr. Malfoy's presence didn't startle you too badly, Miss Granger..." Professor Snape stopped talking as he realized she had fallen asleep in the chair, the potions tome still open in her lap. He realized it was late, and it should not have been a surprise that she would still be worn out after her recent ordeal. He moved the book to a nearby table and scooped the slumbering girl up, placing an arm under her flannel covered legs and hooking one around her back. The smell of cherries and vanilla crept into his nostrils, and he was startled to feel a fleeting urge to bury his nose into her hair. He carried her into his room and laid her on the makeshift bed, pulling his tattered afghan up around her.

Using his wand, he turned down the level of the fire leaving a soft glow in the room while still keeping it warm. He climbed into his bed and shut the curtains on one side. Memories of the morning returned to him even as he tried to block them. He had woken with her still in his arms, her head resting on his chest. His nose had been in her hair, the soft curls tickling him. She had been warm and soft and even though part of him almost lulled back to sleep by the feel of her, another part of himself he definitely didn't want to think about was awoken with her closeness. He had carefully disentangled himself from the resting girl and made his way into the bathroom, forcing himself into a cold shower. While in there he had managed to convince himself that it had purely been one of his occasional "morning problems" and had not been brought on by her. Either way, he wrote a quick note so she wouldn't worry and decided he would be gone before she woke up.

He yawned, feeling his weariness pull on him, and he reached a hand out to a vial that lay on his night stand. He knew some people found Dreamless Sleep Draught to be addictive, but he had never found them that way. To him, they were merely a way of assuring a peaceful sleep that was not interrupted by the demons of his past. He curled his hand around it, then paused. After a moment, he left it sitting on the stand. Dreamless sleep basically made it almost impossible to wake in the middle of the night and he felt wary of being in that position with another person in the room. With his mind made up, he closed his other curtain and burrowed down under the covers, slipping off to sleep fairly quickly.

He woke out of a hazy cloud of sleep at what felt like only a few hours later to the sound of screaming. Flinging open the bed curtains, he dashed out of the bed towards the direction of the noise. Professor Snape stopped as he found Hermione laying on the bed thrashing about, screaming in her sleep. He climbed onto her bed and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hermione," he called out to her gently, trying not to startle her. At his touch, she began to shout words among her screams.

"No please! Not like this! I love you, you know I do! Please No!" she screamed, still captured in her dream despite all efforts to wake her. .

Her thrashing became worse, and she narrowly missed hitting him in the face; he decided on drastic action. "Miss Granger!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs and held her firmly to the bed. She stopped moving instantly as her eyes flew open. She looked up at him, and he released his hold, grateful she was awake. She began to cry and launched herself into his arms, clinging to him. After a moment, he sunk down onto the bed and made himself comfortable as the girl curled herself into his body and drenched the front of his shirt with her tears. He said nothing, simply running his fingers through her hair in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. Eventually, the tears subsided, and her breathing evened out, letting him know that she had calmed down. "Hermione?" he tentatively called out after a while, uncertain if she was awake or not. He felt her shift and saw her look up at him.

"I'm sorry about this sir," she started in a shaky voice. "I loathe looking like a weepy little creature."

"It's all right." He rubbed her back in a lazy motion. "But I feel that we need to talk." He felt her stiffen under her hands. "I know you may not want to, Hermione, but this is evidently weighing heavy on your conscience. You can't tell me that your assailant was a stranger." He pulled her away from him far enough that he could look her squarely in the eyes. "I want the name of the person who did this to you."

"Why?" she asked in a whisper.

"Why do you think?" he growled. "So I could hex him into pieces and put him back together and then deliver him to Azkaban where he can live out the rest of his years in misery."

She gave what sounded like a bitter laugh. "That might be okay for a man that has a crime to pay for, but the one you are seeking is unaware of his crimes."

His eyes narrowed to slits and he loomed over her. He did not like where this conversation was headed and hoped that his intimidation would make her crack.

"Please Professor," she pleaded with him. "He is a good man. He has a good heart. He was not himself-"

"I want his name!" He roared at her. Maybe she could be in denial over this and just bury what happened, but he refused to. He saw how badly she had been hurt. This was the second night in a row that he had held her while she cried. He refused to just forget about it.

"It won't do any good!" she yelled at him, the tears starting anew. "He doesn't remember!"

"And why doesn't he?" he asked.

"Because... I Obliviated him."

Author's Notes:

I know, a cruel ending to the first chapter, but have faith. This is the first story I have worked on in almost two years, so please bear with me as it may take me a while to get back in my groove. If you are a fan of my other stories on I hope to update them soon. Be patient with me; I promise I have not abandoned them! If you liked the story, please be sure to review and let me know if I am heading in a good direction. Till next time-JediScully (yea! She's back!)

Beta-ed by Wisteriarose