Thanks to my Beta, Tracy!

Chapter 3

~x~

Still concealed in the shadows, Severus felt an odd stirring in the pit of his stomach. It was something he'd not felt for years; something he thought was long dead. He tried his best to ignore it, but no matter how much Hermione Granger grated on him, he could not simply walk away.

As he drew nearer, the slight tremor of her hands did not escape his notice. Nevertheless, part of him warned he should turn back. Too late. Hermione raised her head, squarely meeting his gaze. Her body seemed to stiffen almost defensively at the sight of him. A muscle jerked in his jaw; was he really that repulsive? But why should he give rise to such thoughts. After all, it was only Hermione Granger, that insufferable little know-it-all.

A thick silence hung in the air until, finally, Hermione asked nervously, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same thing of you, Professor," Snape replied, staring down at her.

Hermione glanced away from his dark, penetrating gaze. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to simply disregard Potter and his absurd theories. But, for a split second, her mask slipped and Severus saw fear flash across her face. Twenty years in the service of the Dark Lord told him that there was more to this than what he'd overheard.

Severus took a step closer to Hermione, offering her his hand. "You should go speak with Madam Pomfrey if you are unwell," he said, feigning ignorance.

"I'm fine, Professor," she said tightly, ignoring his proffered hand.

"It may be your intention, Professor Granger, to give yourself a chill by sitting on the cold floor all night," Severus said sternly. "But I would prefer if I didn't have to teach your classes while you recover."

After a long moment, his fingers closed around her small, soft hand and, in one fluid motion, he pulled Hermione to her feet. She stood now, only mere inches from him. Severus was still not quite used to the fact that Hermione Granger was no longer his student. Three weeks was hardly enough time to come to terms that she was now a woman of thirty. Yet, as his gaze swept over her features, he was somewhat taken aback. Her liquid brown eyes surged with intelligence and, he had to admit, she was strikingly attractive.

Hermione swiftly pulled her hand from his, stepping back from him. She didn't take flight as he'd expected; rather, she remained rooted where she stood. He looked at her curiously, crossed his arms over his chest, then waited for whatever it was she had to say.

She mirrored his stance, then spoke in a slow, measured tone. "Whatever you might have overheard Professor, it is none of your concern."

"If there is a possible threat to this school and to one of its staff, then I believe it does concern me, Professor Granger," Severus said firmly.

He noted that Hermione flinched at his words. What was she hiding; what was it that she didn't want him to know? The temptation to simply use legilimency was strong. But without her permission – something she was unlikely to give him – it would be nothing short of a violation.

"My personal life has nothing to do with this school…or you," Hermione said forcefully.

With that, she turned on her heels and disappeared down the darkened hallway. He thought to go speak with Minerva, but quickly shook the idea from his head. No, this was a matter that would require Slytherin cunning if he was to find out just what, or who, had cast a shadow of fear over Hermione. And Severus knew exactly where to start.

~x~

Entering the sanctuary of her room, Hermione cast several powerful wards to keep away unwanted visitors. She removed her robe, tossing it carelessly over the back of a chair. For a moment, she paced her room, wondering which pureblood fanatic it was this time who wanted to harm her. She paused in front of the mirror to unbutton her blouse, then tentatively traced her finger tips over the scars on her stomach.

It didn't matter that she was once part of the Golden Trio; to them, she'd always be a mudblood. Despite the attack and ensuing threats, Hermione was nevertheless determined not to live in fear. Harry and Ginny worried constantly about her, as did her parents, but she did not need to be wrapped in cotton wool every time she stepped outside of Hogwarts. And now, to make matter worse, Snape had seen her break down at Albus' words. She sighed with frustration as she sank down onto her bed. Why couldn't he have been snooping in some other part of the castle?

At times, she wished she could return to those days directly after the war, when life had been much less complicated. She and Ron had begun dating in the months following Voldemort's demise and, for a while, everything seemed perfect. A little over a year into their relationship, however, cracks started to appear. It wasn't that she didn't love Ron; she did, wholeheartedly. Rather, the simple truth was that Hermione wasn't made for the limelight.

Ron's abilities as a keeper had launched a dazzling career for him with the Chudley Cannons. He seemed to thrive on the attention, living only for the next game and the next party. Hermione, on the other hand, hated living like she was an odd specimen, just waiting to be dissected. When she'd been with Ron, photographs appeared regularly in the Daily Prophet, some charming, others downright embarrassing. She ruefully remembered their arguments and how arrogant and self-absorbed he'd become. And when she'd been offered an apprenticeship at Hogwarts, he'd sent her carnations with 'congratulations, babe' written on the card – she didn't even like carnations.

It soon became apparent that their relationship was never going to work. She'd listen to him for hours on end nattering on about Quidditch, yet he never once asked her about her studies. The last straw came when rumours flooded the Daily Prophet, reporting that he had been seen leaving a party with Lavender Brown. Learning that those rumours were true almost crushed Hermione. Ron had married Lavender a year later and, according to Harry, they were soon expecting their fourth child.

There were some days she still missed Ron. Hermione often wished they could go back to those simpler days when he'd been her best friend; when they'd been the Golden Trio.

~x~

Severus sat in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, sipping on a glass of firewhiskey. Lucius sat in a wingback chair opposite him, no doubt wondering the reason behind this impromptu visit. Severus, however, was well aware of Lucius' extensive knowledge in the underbelly of the wizarding world, which was what had brought him to his friend's home.

"Are you going to just sit there brooding all day, Severus?" Lucius asked impatiently.

Severus levelled his gaze at the blond wizard. "What do you know of the attack in Knockturn Alley last week?"

"Oh, I see," Lucius smirked. "This is about Granger, isn't it?"

"Yes, Professor Granger," Severus said coolly. "I need to know if this attack could present a danger to Hogwarts."

Lucius took a sip of his own drink. "I wouldn't think so."

"What makes you so confident, Lucius?"

"Rogue pureblood fanatics have been threatening Granger for years," Lucius paused. "She hasn't told you, then?"

Severus stiffened slightly. "Told me what?"

"Four years ago, in Diagon Alley, she was dragged in between two buildings. Merlin only knows what they did to her. It took months for her wounds to heal. From what I hear, she's permanently scarred."

Severus felt his stomach tighten. Hermione's fear finally made sense to him, although it was a wonder she hadn't already checked herself into the fourth floor at St. Mungo's

"Did they ever catch the bastards?" Severus said bitterly.

Lucius shook his head. "They were smart, Severus. No magic was involved, leaving nothing for aurors to trace."

"Do you know who was responsible?" He asked accusingly.

"Neither Draco nor myself had anything to do with the attack on Granger," Lucius said adamantly. "I haven't spent these years trying to clear the Malfoy name only to end up in Azkaban for being involved in an attack on a mud…a muggle born witch."

Despite all his dubious past actions, Severus believed Lucius. The problem now was how to even broach this matter with Hermione. Clearly, she did not want to talk about it, especially not to him. Nonetheless, another rogue fanatic had raised his ugly head. The two scars on his neck were a constant reminder that she had once saved his life, and Severus was determined to repay that debt.

~x~