Hermione unpacked her belongings slowly, savouring the feeling of being back at Hogwarts for her eighth year. It wasn't only nice to be in familiar surroundings again, it was the feeling of security and normalcy that comforted her. And the anticipation of a year full of study and knowledge helped too. Knowing that, for an entire year, nothing but schoolwork would be expected of her was a relief. A sort of holiday from reality for a while, before the pressure to choose a career began to press on her from every angle.

Standing in her shared room, Hermione could feel the last part of the burden she had carried during the war melt away. This was where she was supposed to be now and nothing was going to ruin it for her.

She had managed to convince Ron and Harry to return as well, if only to do some intensive study before applying for the exams to become aurors. They wouldn't stay long at Hogwarts but any preparation would help them and that was all she could ask for.

Hermione stood and observed her now empty suitcase. With a wave of her wand it closed and stored itself under her bed. With nothing to do for the rest of the day - classes didn't start till tomorrow - she pondered on where to go and what to do.

The first thing that popped into her mind was the cosy corner of the library that she had made into her own during her time at Hogwarts. She smiled and grabbed one of the paperback novels she had brought with her and made her way to the beloved space.

The halls were quiet as students made themselves comfortable in their common rooms or were outside enjoying the sunshine. Distracted by random memories of her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione bumped into someone who had just stepped into the hallway. There wasn't a lot of force to the collision but it was enough to send the person back a couple of unsteady steps. Wondering if they might be drunk or ill, Hermione asked, "Are you alright?"

Any further words died in her throat as she realised just who she was speaking to.

Severus Snape stood before her, puffing slightly as he tried to catch his breath. Something seemed to be wrong with him. He didn't look like his usual self; his skin had a sickly pallor to it and he winced as he tried to gain his breath back. The only thing she recognised from the old Snape was the glare in his molten black eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth but was stopped by him raising his hand in a 'stop' gesture.

"I'll halt you right there Miss Granger. Since I'm to be stuck in this damn castle for the foreseeable future and we are likely to have to coexist in some way I will forestall your, no doubt, numerous questions and answer a handful on my own terms."

The sneer on his face looked almost genuine but Hermione could see the fatigue behind it. Strangely, she wasn't affected by his attitude toward her; it was just an echo of the venom he used to use with such precision. Either he wasn't putting his full effort into it or she had matured enough over the last year or so to not take someone at their face value any more. It also helped that she knew very personal things about him that helped humanise him and in turn it made him less threatening in a way.

"One: I have no idea how I survived the attack from Nagini, in fact I barely remember it at all.

Two: I am no longer a professor at this school.

Three: I have been forced to stay in said school until deemed healthy again."

Hermione took a moment to absorb what he had just said.

"Pro-."

"Did you not just hear me say I am no longer a professor?!"

The snarl in his voice made her jump. It was such an ingrained habit to call him 'professor' that it just popped out without her really thinking. His reaction to the title was strong; perhaps he had been forced to quit?

That wouldn't surprise her. After everything that had happened, some acts were just too awful to move past, no matter the reason behind them. Especially when it involved a betrayal of some kind, even if the betrayal turned out to be something else entirely.

A change in his breathing caught her attention and his face went pale. Hermione acted quickly, calling for a house elf while getting her shoulder under Snape's armpit to help support him before he fell to the floor.

"Milly!"

A house elf appeared beside them, wearing a pinafore style dress made from an eyeball searing burnt orange corduroy material. She looked curiously at the pair in front of her, clearly wondering what was going on.

"Milly, can you take us to Snape's living quarters please? He's not feeling so well right now."

The little elf grabbed her hand and in the blink of an eye, Hermione found herself standing in a room lit only by a crackling fire.

To her right stood a bed and without stopping to think of what she was doing she managed to half drag the nearly unconscious man and dump him on the mattress; belatedly remembering the spell that would have done the task for her. He seemed to be only half awake and was fading quickly, which prevented him from being of any use whatsoever.

After a bit of help from the elf, Hermione managed to get him under the covers with his shoes off. The effort had made her break out in a sweat and she fanned herself with her hand while looking at the man in front of her. He still looked ill but at least his face had regained some colour once he was relaxed in sleep, his breathing even and deep instead of the puffing from earlier.

Then it hit her that she was standing in Snape's bedroom. She knew she should feel unwelcome and uncomfortable but her curiosity kept any other feeling at bay as she turned to survey the room. It felt almost cosy and welcoming; definitely not a feeling she would have associated with the menacing professor of years past.

There wasn't much furniture, just the bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe for hanging clothes. The most striking feature of the room was that the walls were lined with built in bookcases, from floor to ceiling. The lack of light didn't allow her to really see what subjects the books contained but she could see that every shelf was packed tight. It looked like a room she could be very comfortable in.

With a glance at Snape to make sure he was still asleep and breathing, Hermione left the bedroom by a door behind her and walked into a sitting room. The fireplace in there was alight too but the room was fully lit by an enchanted sky light that seemed to reflect the time of day and weather outside, just like the ceiling in the Great Hall was made to do.

Again, the walls were lined with bookcases, the same as the bedroom. It seemed to Hermione that the sitting room was placed inside a library and not the other way around.

In her element she walked around slowly, reading the titles of the books, trailing her fingers over the spines and loving the feeling of the different bindings. Some were old leather, fragile and crumbling. Others were bound in cloth, bumpy and smooth all at once. The newer leather bound tomes were supple and soft. Everyone judged her thirst for reading as purely a pursuit of knowledge. What they didn't realise was that for Hermione, reading wasn't just about gathering knowledge. It was something she enjoyed with all of her senses. The feel of the book in her hands; the weight of it. The smell of the parchment and ink. The sight of shelves or piles of books surrounding her as she browsed them. The sound of the pages being turned and the creaking of the spine as the book opened, maybe for the very first time. Even the sometimes unpleasant taste of dust if she breathed through her mouth was part of the experience. So far, no one understood her relationship to books and she doubted she would ever find anyone who immersed themselves as she did. Although from the appearance of Snape's rooms it looked like he at least physically tried to surround himself with the written word but who knew if he actually read them all that much.

She shrugged to herself, deliberately pushing all thought of the sleeping man in the next room from her mind.

The collection before her was irresistible. Forgetting where she was she selected a book at random and settled down to read.

oOoOoOo

Hours later, snuggled in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, she found herself being jolted out of her reading by a quiet but angry voice.

"Just what do you think you're doing Miss Granger? Does the phrase private quarters mean nothing to you?"

Hermione's head jerked up and her eyes focused on the disheveled figure standing in the bedroom doorway. Her face flushed as she tried to explain, since he clearly didn't remember her helping him to his bed.

"Well, you were about to faint in the corridor and I couldn't just leave you to fall on the cold stone. So I summoned a house elf and she brought us here. Getting you into bed was a bit of an effort, you being nearly unconscious but Milly and I got you there eventually. And when I saw all of the books, I just kind of got side tracked…"

She shrugged, knowing there was no explanation that would please him. She waited for the yelling to begin.

Snape continued to glare at her for a moment but then it seemed like his anger just drained away, leaving him looking tired. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to pull the weariness away. Hermione remained where she was, following him with her eyes as he walked to the armchair across from where she sat to sit down heavily.

She didn't know exactly what Nagini's attack had done to him but it seemed to have made him into a pale imitation of the man he used to be. The old Snape would have continued his glaring and would have most likely driven her from the room with just the aid of some well chosen words. Now he appeared incapable of sustaining his trademark glare for more than a minute or two.

The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room but the atmosphere was thick with tension. Hermione didn't want to move from where she sat in case it provoked him. She wasn't afraid of him physically hurting her but she knew from experience that a verbal tirade from him could be just as damaging.

"Pro-Sir-. Snape?"

She tested the single word before continuing and when he didn't react negatively she went on.

"You said you don't remember anything about the attack. I do. Harry and I, we were there when it happened. Voldemort set Nagini on you as a way to eliminate you, thinking that would make him the master of the Elder Wand. It didn't work but that's another story."

She could feel his eyes on her and Hermione swore she could feel the heat from his gaze rolling over her. So she turned her own eyes to the flames of the fire as she continued.

"Sensing the end you gave some memories to Harry, who left quickly. That left me standing over your dying body."

The memory flooded back so vividly it almost stopped her breath. Watching someone being attacked that way was brutal, even if that someone has been an object of hatred for so many years. And then being the only one who might save his life had been a weight she hadn't wanted to bear. But she had taken it up and this is where it had led her, to an awkward conversation with Severus Snape.

"And? I presume there is more to this scintillating tale?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at him. She reminded herself that all he had left were words and he would use them as forcefully as he could to demean and irritate her.

"I made the only decision I could. I brought you back to Hogwarts through the secret passages and managed to find help to stabilise you until a more qualified healer could attempt to heal you properly. I don't know what happened after that. I can only assume that a healer did in fact heal you and then you were housed in your rooms here at Hogwarts for your recovery. It doesn't appear to be going very well."

The last part slipped out before she could stop it but she decided she wouldn't try to take it back. If Snape was going to heal and be irritable and incite anger in others while doing so he would just have to put up with being told off from time to time.

"You did have a choice. You could have let me die in peace instead of saving my life, leaving me to live as the pathetic ruin of a man you see before you."

His voice had gone soft, lacking his usual range of vehement tones. Hermione glanced over at him to find him slumped in the armchair, hands limply clasped in his lap in a real display of weariness. Her heart softened at the sight but then she frowned.

"You have a choice now too. You said pathetic? I agree. You are pathetic right now. You're alive! You may not want to be right now but once you heal completely and feel whole again you'll think differently. The Snape I used to know wouldn't act this way; broken and brow beaten. He'd get back on his feet and do something useful instead of lolling about the castle like an invalid!"

Hermione stood and left the sitting room without looking back. She was partly afraid that some spell would follow her out the door but didn't think it was likely. The punishment would find her tomorrow or the next day once her words had really sunk in.

She could hardly believe her bravado, telling off Severus Snape. She must have been temporarily possessed. A smile grew into a grin as she walked the rest of the way to the library.

During the Horcrux hunt she had found stern or harsh words were more likely to rouse Harry or Ron when they grew despondent or felt hard done by. It would help jolt them into action, and do things that need to be done like searching for food or lighting the campfire.

In the beginning she hadn't wanted to upset the delicate balance they had established but that just ended up with her doing most of the work. In the end nothing had helped with Ron but at least he had come back to them eventually.

The memory of him leaving still made her feel sad. It had left a large crack in her trust of him, which had turned into a crevice when they started going out after the war. It had quickly become apparent that she couldn't fully trust him not to abandon her again so they had gone back to being friends after a couple of months. It wasn't long till he found someone new to nurse his broken heart with and it made Hermione happy and relieved when their relationship went back to how it used to be. Or as close as it could be.

The library was deserted, no student in their right mind would be here if they didn't have to be. The hushed atmosphere deepened as Hermione walked toward the back of the room and found her corner to be just as it had always been. She breathed in deeply, the smell of parchment and ink settling over her like a comfortable blanket and she settled down with a smile to read the book she had surreptitiously taken from Snape's rooms.

oOoOoOo

As his saviour made herself comfortable in the library, Snape made himself feel the discomfort he had felt at her words.

He reveled in the feeling; it had been too long since he'd been able to allow himself the luxury of actually feeling emotions instead of the need to keep everything out. It was no longer necessary for him to keep a barrier between himself and everyone else. He was no longer a Death Eater, no longer a spy for Dumbledore. The identity that he had retained for the majority of his adult life had been stripped away, leaving him feeling lost.

After his encounter with the know-it-all witch he knew he was going to struggle with this new life he had been given the chance to live.

Her words before she ran off rang in his mind and he sat before the fire, mulling over each little syllable. The annoying thing was that she was right.

Severus sighed and leaned his head back on the chair. He knew he had no choice but to get better. It wasn't in him to just let go when he had the chance to get well and live again. Out from under the shadow of everything that had been there before. His eyes snapped open as the enormity of it all rushed over him.

"Shit", he groaned.

Now he really had to do something and not just be drawn along in the tide of things like before. He had control of his life for the first time and he was at a total loss as to what to do.

He grumbled to himself as he hefted his weight out of the armchair. He planned to speak to the headmistress about employment of some sort but when the room tilted before his eyes he decided bed was the only place he'd get to before passing out. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would go and find out what the future held for him.