CHAPTER 2

It was Hogwarts as Hermione remembered it, and yet she didn't recognise it at all. The repairs to the main hall were impeccable, each stone looked exactly the same as it had before. The roof of the Great Hall showed a cloudy day, although on occasion a hint of blue would peak between the grey. The food was delicious, she argued with new students about the possibility of re-forming S.P.E.W, and she was even given the same bed in the same dormitory as she'd had since fifth year. And still there was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, that she was there in the castle and yet not really there at all. The first night in her bed next to Ginny's brought a disturbing question: is this how it felt to make a horcrux, and to be separate from your soul?

She didn't sleep much that night, and even when she did, she was plagued by the usual nightmares. Bellatrix Lestrange screamed at her in Malfoy Manor; Hagrid carried Harry's body across the castle grounds; Snape lay dying in her arms in the Shrieking Shack. She woke abruptly with her sheets tangled around her limbs, her bushy hair damp with sweat and her heart racing. The room was still dark, and she knew none of the girls were awake. It was probably an hour or two before sunrise. She needed to be alone.

With slow, quiet movements, Hermione made her way down to the common room, determined not to wake anyone. The fire was still roaring, and so she settled herself in the squishy chair in front of it. This had always been Harry's seat, when the three of them stayed up late finishing essays, or waiting for Sirius to call. She looked into the fire now, almost expecting to see the handsome face of Harry's godfather looking back at her. All her memories felt so fresh here.

She settled back in the chair, crossed her legs and closed her eyes. Tilting her head against the seat, she began her morning ritual.

"It's not real. It's not happening. It already happened. Bellatrix is in Azkaban, she can't hurt you. Harry isn't dead, he was pretending. Professor Snape isn't dead, I saved his life…"

Hermione continued her chant until her heartbeat returned to normal, and then opened her eyes to look around the room, hoping no one had come in. Seeing the room was empty she checked the fireplace again, almost out of habit, and sighed.

"And now a new one. Sirius is dead. Bellatrix killed him. Don't look for him in the fire."

Repeating this softly to herself, it was a long time before she moved from the chair. Birds began to sing outside the castle walls, and sunlight crept across the floor. She could hear people moving in the dorms above her, and decided it was time to get ready for her first day of classes. Hopefully, it was the beginning of a life without nightmares.

By the time Hermione left the table in the Great Hall with Ginny an hour later, she was relieved to find that she was in high spirits. As always, in the back of her mind was a black shadow of fear that threatened to take over her body if she lingered on a bad memory, but seeing her timetable had significantly lessened the chance that she would. First thing on a Monday morning, double potions.

In another lifetime, she wouldn't have been so glad to go down to the chilly dungeons and subject herself to an hour of Professor Snape's disapproving glare, though she rarely earned it. But she hadn't seen him since that night in the Shrieking Shack, when Harry and Ron took off for the castle and she remained by her teacher's side, listening with growing terror as his breathing became irregular and shallow. She had done her best to stop the flow of blood from his wounds, but it was the venom she couldn't help. All she could do was send out a patronous and hope it found the right person, at the right time. She thanked God nearly every day that it had.

"Damn," Ginny cursed, looking over her own timetable. "Double potions with Snape. Just my luck. Why he came back to teaching, I have no idea."

"I've got double potions, too," Hermione said with a grin. "And you know Snape isn't that bad. He saved our lives. And Harry's."

"Why are people always telling me that?" Ginny asked incredulously, falling into step beside Hermione as they headed for the dungeons. "Yes, he's a hero, but that doesn't mean he's not a git."

"We'll see." Hermione nervously straightened her tie and glanced down to ensure her shirt was tucked in. What would he say to her when he saw her? "Maybe he's changed."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Ginny laughed. "And by the way, I will be copying everything you do in this class. If I can be as perfect a student as you, hopefully he'll leave me alone."

Hermione laughed, and said, "If you're anything like your brother, you'll need to."

They stopped behind the line of seventh years outside the potions classroom, and Ginny gave her a sidelong glance. "That depends. Which brother?"

The two of them giggled quietly as a hush came over the students. Hermione craned her head, trying to see if Snape had come out. She had no idea why she was so nervous, but every inch of her skin tingled with goosebumps. She'd saved his life. He'd ignored her existence for a year. Surely he was grateful?

"Come in," a silky voice said from within the dungeon.

Hermione's heart leapt to her throat as she shuffled in behind the others, completely ignoring Ginny's heavy sigh.

The dungeons were as dark and cold as ever, devoid of any colour or good-feeling. It worried her how at home she felt in here, where so many students had lived through the worst of their academic careers. The apprehension in the air was tangible as each student crawled onto a stool, murmuring to each other and themselves. Hermione made her way to the front of the classroom, where Harry and Ron had never let her sit. Ginny groaned softly behind her, and for a brief moment Hermione felt a little guilty that she may be subjecting her friend to an hour of hell. Finally, she looked up to the desk at the end of the room, where a dark-clad figure stood silently watching them all. Her breath caught in her throat.

Professor Snape looked down at them all with his unique mix of disgust, contempt and indifference, his upper lip curling slightly at the sight of his students. His curtain of dark hair seemed slightly longer so that it sat upon his shoulders instead of above them, but that was the only difference. His eyes were as dark as ever, his skin as pale and his voice as soft. Without knowing why, Hermione listened to his slow, measured words intently, captivated by the sound of his voice.

"First," he drawled, "You must remember, that no matter how disappointed you are that I am alive and teaching again, it cannot compare to my own disappointed that my weeks will start with a double class of dunderheads."

No one spoke a word. Hermione was sure she would hear a pin drop in the silence of the room, if only her attention wasn't completely taken by the man in front of her. A man who had yet to look at her.

"Also, while in this room there will be no talk of the war, anyone who was involved in the war, or our favourite celebrity, Mr. Potter, who seems to have decided not to return to the school this year. No doubt, he would not have managed to complete his N.E.. Just as most of you will not."

He reached behind him for a sheet of parchment and held it loosely in front of him.

"When I say your name, say 'present'. I trust this will not be too difficult."

He began to read alphabetically, surname first through the class, which Hermione realised was comprised of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students. As he neared her name, her stomach tightened nervously.

"Granger, Hermione."

"Present, sir," she said breathlessly, waiting for him to look at her. But he didn't. He kept on reading the names, finishing with Ginny. Nor did he look at her for the rest of the lesson on the complex Veritaserum potion, avoiding her table completely even when she held her hand high in the air.

Halfway through the hour, Ginny nudged her in the ribs. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. He hasn't mentioned my red hair once. It must be some kind of record."

Rather than make her laugh, Ginny's comment made Hermione uncomfortable. For the last five minutes of the lesson, she worked in silence on her potion, wondering why he wouldn't look at her, and worse, why she cared so much. It wasn't like her to mope if a teacher ignored her, rare as that was. Had she really changed so much as to need constant approval?

When the bell finally rang, Snape told them he expected a two foot essay on the properties of the ingredients of Veritaserum and why they made the potion work. And he said no more. He turned back to his desk and didn't turn around until the last of them had left. Hermione knew this because she took her time in packing up so she would be the last to leave. Ginny stood impatiently by the door, waiting for her.

"Come on, Hermione. Free period."

She glanced back once more to see if he was looking at her, but she saw only his back. Together with Ginny, Hermione left the classroom feeling oddly rejected, even though nothing had happened. The dark shadow in her mind was threatening to take over her again, and she felt the familiar emptiness begin to creep over her heart. She needed a way to release the shadow. She needed it now.

At the entrance to the common room, she stopped and grabbed Ginny's arm.

"Hey, Gin, I'm just going to the library to start Snape's essay. I'll catch up with you in Transfiguration."

"Seriously?" Ginny asked, eyebrows shooting up. "We just got it, and we don't have to hand it in until Wednesday."

"I know, but you know me," Hermione smiled, forcing it probably more than was necessary. "I can't wait to start."

Her friend shook her head wonderingly, and turned to the portrait of the fat lady. "You confuse me, Hermione. I have no idea what goes on in your head some times."

Watching her disappear into the common room, Hermione stood there a moment longer, her thoughts heavier than they had been in weeks. "So do I."

Hours later, after she skipped dinner complaining of a stomach ache, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed staring out the small window, watching the world outside take on an orange tinge as the sun set. The shadow had won out, after all, when she couldn't stop herself from worrying over everything – her parents, Ron, Harry and of course, Professor Snape's complete indifference to her. Her body felt empty of all feeling, as though she were a wraith, as lifeless and see-through as Nearly-Headless Nick. This is what happened when the shadow won, because she couldn't find a way to release the bad energies of her mind. It was happening more and more as time went by, and she didn't know how to stop it. If only she had someone to talk to, who might understand what was happening to her…

Unbidden, her mind leapt to her potions master, and she realised why she had felt so dejected at the end of his class. Only the two of them, together, were there in the Shrieking Shack that night, when she tried desperately to keep his heart beating. It was a common link, a memory the two of them shared, a connection. He would understand the nightmares that plagued her. He had to.

Of the three memories that sent her every night into darkness, only the memory of Harry's supposed murder was shared with another: Ron. And he was in no position to comfort her or help her heal from that memory. He could barely get himself out of bed.

The memory of Bellatrix's torture was hers and hers alone. No one was there beside her as the pain lanced through her limbs and into her soul, shredding her more effectively than the Sectumsempra curse. That was a burden she had to carry alone, and to fix on her own.

But the Shrieking Shack… Professor Snape had been there. Hell, he was the reason she woke in a cold sweat, crying out his name as he died again and again in her arms. And he seemed perfectly functional, which was more than Ron could say. Had she finally found someone to confide in? To truly confide in? It was a start, and captivated her mind entirely as new thoughts so easily did these days. By the time Ginny came up to bed, Hermione was fast asleep, already locked in Malfoy Manor with Bellatrix and her punishing magic.

Crucio!

A/N: Woo! Chapter two down...

I realise it's a little wordy at this point, and that there is far more prose than dialogue. Just bear with me until the initial intro stuff is out of the way. The pace will start to pick up soon, I promise