A/N: Hey, guys... Sorry about that last one. It really wasn't fun to write, but it set things up for this story. Thanks to everyone who's given it a chance so far!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!

It was just after midnight, and Severus was making his rounds around the castle. Now that the Dark Lord was gone, the evenings were quiet, and they weren't so bad. He liked stalking through the halls, anyway; it gave him time to clear his mind and get lost in his thoughts.

Things had been put back together rather quickly after the Final Battle, and Severus had found himself glad to be back at Hogwarts. He liked the routine being Potions Master brought him, and he'd missed it during his time as Headmaster last year and DADA Professor. He'd always had a strong affinity for Potions, and had missed his art dearly. Brewing calmed him, especially after he'd had to kill Dumbledore.

Albus. Severus stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. Albus Dumbledore had been the closest thing he'd ever had to a father figure, and taking his life had nearly destroyed Severus. He knew that he'd been absolutely terrible to the students when he was Headmaster, but he'd had to do what he could to protect them from the Carrows. They were sadistic and had been quite fond of torturing the students.

Severus hadn't thought he would survive the war, and he almost hadn't. After Nagini had bitten him, the Golden Trio had come across him as he died. He wasn't quite sure how they'd done it, as he'd fallen unconscious, but they had somehow managed to do enough to get him safely to St. Mungo's, where he'd had a long, slow recovery.

Thankfully, the damage to his vocal cords had been reversible, and all that was left were some new scars on his neck. He had plenty of those; he could live with a few more.

But, once he'd recovered, he hadn't known what to do. Some had still seen him as a traitor, but many worshipped him as a war hero. Potter had done what he could to clear his name, and all charges against him had been dropped. Minerva had come and offered him his old job as Potions Master- Horace was retiring again- and he'd gladly accepted.

Now, here he was, seven months later.

As he made his way towards Professor Vector's room, he felt another presence pass him by. His first thought was of Potter and the damned cloak, but he really didn't want to deal with it if it was Potter- even if he'd had a hand in saving him, he was still James' son, although, if he were honest, not quite as bad. Sighing, Severus turned and continued his rounds.

Soon after, he heard a retching sound. Assuming a student was wandering the corridors while intoxicated, Severus drew his wand and prepared to scare the life out of whoever he came across.

He kept to the shadows, and was walking silently towards the noise when he found its source, and what he saw brought waves of nausea upon him.

Knelt on the floor in a small alcove was a girl. She appeared to have been beaten severely, and she was nude; her clothes were strewn across the floor. The corridor smelled strongly of blood and urine, but soon vomit, too, as she lost the battle with her stomach.

Moving out of the darkness, he slowly approached her; he didn't need her getting frightened. She had yet to look up from the floor, so he decided to make his presence known.

"Young lady, what has happened?"

Clearly startled, the girl's head rose.

"Miss Granger!"

"P-professor Snape," she whimpered, "I… How could… Please, help me."

Her face was bruised and swollen, and there was dried blood on her face. From what he could see of her body while maintaining her modesty, she was almost entirely black and blue. She was shaking uncontrollably, and tears were running down her face.

Kneeling down in front of her, Severus looked into those dark, frightened eyes. Slowly, as not to startle her, he pulled off his cloak and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully, as if just remembering her nakedness, and covered herself quickly.

"Miss Granger, come with me. I will take you to Madam Pomfrey."

He offered her a hand, and she took it. As she rose, the cloak parted slightly, and Severus was alarmed by the dried blood on her inner thighs. He swallowed down the bile that rose and began leading her slowly to the hospital wing. She was struggling to walk, stumbling every few steps. It took them a long time, but they eventually made it to the hospital. It was dark, a clear indication that Poppy was in for the night, and Severus swore under his breath.

Ringing the bell to summon Poppy, he laid her down on an empty bed and waited. It didn't take long for her to arrive.

"Severus? What's the matter?"

"Miss Granger has been attacked. Her injuries appear to be extensive and rather… personal."

Poppy nodded her understanding and he was promptly forced behind the curtain surrounding the girl's bed.

Nearly an hour had passed when Poppy stepped out and moved towards Severus.

"How is she?"

"It was bad, Severus. I don't know who did this to her, but it was very clearly out of hatred. This was by no means random. The poor girl was black and blue all over, there were a few broken ribs, and... She's been raped. Brutally. There was a fair amount of blood loss, and she's clearly in shock."

He was trying to wrap his brain around what Poppy told him when he heard a soft moan from Miss Granger.

"Thank you, Poppy. Go back to bed; I'll watch her for the night."

"Are you sure, Severus?"

"Yes, quite; sleep wasn't coming for me before, and it certainly won't be now."

The matron nodded before slipping out of the infirmary. Severus pulled up a chair and sat by the now sleeping girl and thought.

He was surprised by how protective he felt over her; he felt certain he could kill whoever had done this to her. She had looked so broken. He was used to seeing the bright young woman who wanted to learn more about everything; her enthusiasm and love for books and learning was similar to his own. Even when she'd been annoying, he'd secretly enjoyed having her in his classes. She'd always been one of the few with any intelligence, and hers by far surpassed that of others. Her records were impressive, especially for a Muggle-born; because they didn't know of their magic for much of their lives, they often started out weaker than their peers. Miss Granger, however, had made her strengths known on that very first day. She'd known every single answer to his questions, even the more advanced ones from the year above. Her dedication to her studies was admirable, even if her incessant hand waving was irritating, and he knew her mind had matured far beyond her years. Severus knew she spent much of her time in the library; he'd done the same in his years as a student.

Yes, Miss Granger reminded Severus of himself in many respects, but she was like a better, brighter version of himself. Where he'd found himself fascinated with the Dark Arts, she fought against them and always tried to do what was good. He'd been bitter about not fitting in with his fellow Slytherins, but she took being an outcast in stride. Severus had been bullied and had lashed out with curses of his own invention; she was resilient and didn't let it phase her.

Severus was sure that, without her, Potter would never have been able to face, let alone defeat, the Dark Lord. Her brilliance had gotten them out of countless disasters, and they certainly owed her their lives. In fact, all of Wizarding Britain was indebted to her, not that she'd ever admit it. While Potter, and even Weasley, had taken all the credit for the war, she had stayed out of the spotlight. Severus doubted that anybody really knew who had made everything they had today possible.

Like him, though, she seemed to try and avoid whatever attention she could. She didn't like being the center of attention; she was happier watching from the sidelines. Still, Potter and the ginger-idiot shouldn't take credit for what they hadn't done. This strong witch deserved far more than what had been dealt to her.

As he sat in the cold darkness, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. How on earth had so much pain been caused to her while she was in the school? All that she'd faced leading up to the war, the war itself, and now this. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe place, and he'd always considered it such. Even during all his years facing the Marauders, the castle felt like home to him; he'd been severely lacking in a good home environment before coming to the castle. His father had been an angry man who took his frustrations out on his wife and only son. While his mother had been a capable witch, she hadn't ever used her magic to defend herself or Severus; she always said she couldn't bring herself to use magic against her husband. She had loved him and, eventually, he broke her. She had died at his hand while Severus was finishing his seventh year. He hadn't gone to the funeral; he'd long since given up on her, and he had no desire to see his father again.

Severus' father had died about six years after his mother; he'd been at a bar and had gotten into a fight that killed him. The dour Potions Master didn't mourn the death of his father in the slightest. In fact, he'd felt… relieved. That was another of his many burdens gone. He had been on the side of the Light by then and was only two years into his teaching career. The Dark Lord had already fallen- the first time- and Severus had been spying on the remaining Death Eaters for Dumbledore. Even at twenty-three Severus had been a formidable professor, and his students had feared him as much then as they did now.

Now, sitting at Miss Granger's bedside, Severus found himself not wanting this young woman to fear him. He was fairly certain that she never really had, at least not to the extent of her peers. Her intelligent eyes always shone at him with trust and respect, and Severus was sure that she saw more than almost anybody else when it came to him. In that moment, he knew he wanted nothing more than to keep her out of harm's way, and he would do everything in his power to keep Hermione Granger safe.

Hermione woke up slowly, opening her eyes to find herself in the hospital wing. She was confused; why am I here?

But then it all came rushing back at her and it was all she could do to stop herself from falling onto the floor. Forcing herself to calm down, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply for a few moments before opening her eyes again.

Carefully, Hermione shifted so she was sitting up in her bed, and took in her surroundings. The curtain was drawn around her bed, and Professor Snape was sitting in the chair by her bed, watching her adjust to being awake.

Professor Snape! Memories of him approaching her shaking nude figure flooded her mind, and she was mortified to think that her professor had seen more of her than anybody else. Well, everybody except for Ron, now. Before she could stop them, tears began a steady flow down her cheeks as she remembered.

"Miss Granger, how are you feeling?"

Hermione moved a bit, wincing as she moved her legs slightly apart.

"It hurts a little, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to… to what it was. I want to thank you, Professor, for finding me and bringing me here."

Her voice was quiet, but softened as she went on.

"Sir, I know who it was and I'm fairly certain of what led to this."

Her professor watched her thoughtfully for a moment before inclining his head, silently telling her to continue.

"Well, I'm sure you're aware, as the Prophet certainly made it known, that Ron and I got together at the end of the war. It was okay for a while; over summer, he would play Quidditch and I would curl up with a book, and things were alright. In mid-August, we were up in his room, and he got a little bit forceful. I tried to push him off gently, but that seemed to make it worse, but I did eventually get him to stop. The next morning, he apologized, saying that he'd just been waiting for so long and felt that it was right. I explained that I wasn't ready for that, and things went back to normal pretty quickly. A few weeks later, we were in Charms and he asked me to grab something from his bag. Before I found whatever it was, I came across a pair of knickers that most definitely didn't belong to me. When we got back to the Common Room, I confronted him. At first he tried to deny it, but he eventually confessed, saying that, since I was holding out on him, he'd needed to take his… frustrations out elsewhere. I ended it then and there. I was turning to go back to my room when he grabbed me, and that was the first time he hit me. He only got a couple of punches in before I stopped him, but his attitude towards me has certainly worsened since then. Even with as bad as he's been acting, I just can't believe he took it this far…"

Hermione was openly crying now, not able to control the torrent of tears streaming down her cheeks. She'd known that Ron had been angry, but they had been best friends for years. How could he have…? How could she have let this happen to her? She should have fought harder, done more to save herself. She should have tried approaching him and diffusing his anger before he broke. This is all my fault.

"No, it isn't, Miss Granger."

She looked up at her professor, realizing that she'd said that last part out loud. Taking deep breaths to calm her frayed nerves, she did her best to convince herself that he was right. He'd cheated on her; she'd been right to leave him. His anger towards her was completely unwarranted.

It was then that a sudden thought struck her.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What if… what if he comes back for me?"

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before he answered her.

"You needn't worry, Miss Granger. I'm sure we'll get this sorted out soon enough that it shouldn't be an issue. Now," his tone softened, and it was almost gentle, "if you don't mind, what happened to you?"

She blanched, and tried to steady herself. The memories rushed to the front of her mind and crippled her; she opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. Forcing her thoughts back, she looked directly into his dark eyes.

"Sir, I'm not sure I can… I just… Can you just look?"

The idea of having him- or anyone else, for that matter- inside her head was not appealing in the least, but she knew she wouldn't be able to tell him. Hermione could barely think of it, let alone talk about it.

"Miss Granger, do you know what you're asking?"

Hermione nodded before saying, "I trust you, sir."

"Very well. Look at me, if you please."

She did as he asked without thinking about it; she wouldn't talk herself out of this.

"Legilimens."

A/N II: I would apologize for that little cliffhanger, but I'm not actually sorry:) Anyway, all feedback is appreciated- this is my second story, and I would be grateful for any advice on how to grow as a writer.

See y'all next Sunday!