A/N: A bit of a change for me. I have yet to write anything featuring Hermione. Please let me know your thoughts, as I'm interested to hear what you have to say about this switch up!
I hadn't honed my observation skills over the years for nothing. I was after all, balancing precariously between light and dark, where ether side could strike me down at a moments notice.
I could see the subtle changes in the student before me; tinier figure, not horrifyingly thin, but enough to raise concern; purple shadows enveloping the normally chipper, brown eyes; jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscles in her cheek contract.
Yes, for the past several months the change has been gradual, yet alarming nonetheless.
Then saw her head loll forward to rest upon her chest, her posture slumped and hands crossed protectively across her body as if warding off a chill. The inept imbecile beside her cast a sideway glance and looked nervously in my direction. I decided to indulge his fears and slowly sauntered over to the girl's desk. Despite being asleep, I saw her shoulders tense at my approach.
Placing a strong hand at the back of her neck I gripped firmly, smirking when she shot up in shock.
"You'd do well to remain awake in my class Miss Granger." I warned, dropping my voice to appear all the more menacing.
She only nodded and proceeded to write down the notes on the board.
By the time I had stalked back to my desk, I felt a pair of eyes on my back. Naturally, I whipped around glared pointedly at the caster, Granger. There was no trace of venom in her glance, no ounce of hatred or intense dislike- then again Granger always treated her teachers with respect- but a thoughtful narrowing of the eyes as if trying to sort out my character. As soon as our eyes met though, she quickly turned away and became much too interested in taking notes.
It is not a natural response for me to feel concern for a student, most get upset for insipid reasons anyway, but this girl had a strong head on her shoulders and certainly had a drive that reminded me similarly of myself at that age.
The incessant chatter started up, signaling the end of class. Students fled the room in a flurry of bags and books but I noticed Granger hanging back, clutching the strap of her satchel. It seemed she was waiting for the room to clear entirely. As she bit her lip though, she seemed to decide against it and exited the room.
All thoughts of concern were abandoned as I prepared for the next batch of cretins to invade my room.
Over the next few weeks I noticed myself paying much more attention to Hermione Granger. She came to the Great Hall for breakfast with limp hair, a large contrast from her bushy mass everyone had come to accept over the past five years, and rumpled clothes.
My eyes scanned the entire hall, first stopping on Draco Malfoy, and then the blasted Boy-Who-Lived, and then Granger. All were accounted for and so I took a moment to appraise the girl's meal. It consisted of a meager bowl of dry Cheeri Owls and a forgotten apple. She seemingly forced each bite and took on a faint sickly tinge whenever she swallowed.
At least she isn't intentionally denying herself sustenance, I thought.
That solved the problem of her waning figure. It appeared she was eating, but was having difficulty doing so in full.
And then there were the times I swooped past her in the hallway and instead of greeting me with that over enthusiastic grin, she merely angled her eyes downward and pushed pass me as quickly as she could.
While this was normal, enough students ignored me on a daily basis, it was certainly not typical behavior on her part.
"Damn," I growled to myself, swiping a hand over my face. I entertained thoughts of what could possibly be bothering Granger. She was not one to get riled up over boys, or the latest fashion trends, or the petty insecurities that plagued nearly every girl at Hogwarts. And as far as I knew her home life was quite the pretty picture. No- this could be something very serious, especially if it was disturbing her to the point where she was becoming reckless with her teachers, grades, and class work.
I resolved to instill a sense of trustworthiness in myself for her sake next time she came to class. The last time it had looked as if she wanted to say something, but lost the nerve to do so.
Yes, I would attempt to help the girl, however bruising to my bastard-like persona it would be. After all, had someone interfered in my moment of need, I might not be stuck in my predicament of servicing two masters.
Class went off without a hitch- surprising due to the fact Longbottom was on the class roster. I have no doubt Granger aided him though. It was slightly comforting to know she still had enough spirit in her to help a friend in need.
As class came to a close and I heard the blasted rustling of books being shoved haphazardly into bags- a sound that never ceased to annoy me despite hearing it everyday for countless years. I paid particular attention to Granger's movements. Once again she slowly arranged each textbook on her desk, placing them carefully in their respect slots as if buying time while the rest of the class left the room in what resembled a stampede. By the time she had stood up the class was empty and silent.
Shifting her weight from one foot to the other she looked hesitantly at the door. I noticed she was once again biting her lip and this time, had succeeded in drawing blood.
"Miss Granger, you're causing yourself to bleed." I spoke with sternness, though my voice was devoid of the normally acidic tone- no need to scare the girl off just yet.
"Sorry Sir." She mumbled and quickly brought up her the sleeve of her uniform to dab away the offending fluid.
"No matter." I said flippantly, "Is there something you wish to discuss? You're taking up real estate in my classroom."
At that remark I expected her to flee the room at once, it was admittedly, rather cruel if my intentions were to help and not harm. However, she dropped her bag to the floor with a heavy thud and slumped into the nearest desk. Seconds later her head rested in her hands while she sobbed quietly.
I thanked Merlin for her lack of hysterics and rose from my desk to get nearer to the girl.
"Miss Granger." I spoke soothingly, even surprising myself, "Miss Granger, look at me."
When she looked up at me, the sight took the breath right out of my lungs. Large tears had pooled beneath her eyes, magnifying the seemingly bruised skin below. The sudden movement looking up at me had produced, caused said tears to roll effortlessly down her cheeks and splash onto her collar. Her skin became blotchy and while she attempted to hide the wounded look in her eyes, I could see it clear as day.
I suppose she took my stunned silence as an inability to help and went to push up from the desk.
I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, which convinced her to remain seated.
"I cannot claim to know what has been causing you such distress these past months. Nor can I guarantee I have a solution. But I wish you to know…that is to say-" I was failing miserabkt- these sorts of things were usually Minerva's area of expertise- "I offer you the same amenities as my Slytherins: a open mind, a ready ear, and years of understanding."
My sentiments undid her. The flow of tears was relentless and the sobbing rapidly turned into emotion that threatened to steal her breath away. Not knowing what to do in this instance, my Slytherins typically cried outside my presence, I kneeled next to her and awkwardly placed my arm on her shoulder opposite to me, mimicking a side hug.
Granger looked genuinely jarred by the act.
"Sir" She whispered quietly, almost pleading for an answer as to why I was displaying such compassion and…and empathy. To be honest, I did not quite know the answer myself.
"Miss Granger," I started off slowly, "I was once in a position of desperate need. I longed for someone to heed the warning signs of my decline, but no one came to my rescue. I do not know what is troubling you- I can assume it is something quite disturbing because you don't strike me as a girl who goes down without a fight, nor as someone who gets worked up from the ludicrous happenings at Hogwarts. Whatever it might be, I can endeavor to help…" my words seemed to have little effect on her for she continued to stare at the desk, " or at the very least extend a hand to clutch when it feels like you are drowning."
That got her attention. Ever so slowly her hand edged towards mine until it finally reached its destination and hovered overtop my worn knuckles as if asking for permission.
I sighed before nodding. The warmth of her palm encased my hand and she held on for all it was worth, crying indistinctly as I sat mute. When the last of her sobs were quelled she let go of me, sniffled and said, "Thank you Professor Snape. I needed to know…" she paused, "I needed to know that someone still cared."
And with that she swept out the door, her step now full of a little more vigor.
