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Hermione sure does know how to press Severus's buttons...

Chapter 4: A Brief Respite

I awoke some time later to the light fading in the room. I sat up as my eyes adjusted, and noticed a tray of food in front of me on the low mahogany coffee table. Beside a glass of pumpkin juice was a piece of parchment. I reached out from under the covers, settling them in my lap as I curled my legs under me so I was in a better position to read.

The note was short, scrawled in Snape's untidy, pointed hand.

I have been called away this evening and do not know when I will return. Help yourself to the food. We will speak tomorrow.

SS

Shrugging, I put the parchment down on the table and grabbed a cucumber sandwich from the tray. As I bit into it and the sweet, buttery flavour filled my mouth, I suddenly realised how ravenous I was. When was the last time I'd eaten? In any case, it didn't take long for me to finish the entire tray.

Swallowing the last of the pumpkin juice, I looked around the room, getting a better look at my surroundings. Across from me was the other sofa, and behind it a large window, draped in dark green velvet. I stood up, letting the blankets slip onto the floor, and walked over to it.

It looked east over the lake, the main part of the castle visible to the right, and the sky was growing dark. It looked peaceful, but I knew that below me chaos was beginning to ensue. The Carrows were down there somewhere turning Hogwarts into a dark seedy shell of the castle I remembered from my school days. I wondered what Ginny, Neville, and Luna were doing: were they starting up the DA already, or had they waited until things got worse?

I knew, whatever was happening, I could not help them. I was only here for one man.

I pulled away from the window, back into the darkened room, and walked over to the cauldron bubbling in the corner; he had said not to touch, but I was just looking, was I not? The contents were thick and brown, simmering serenely. The steam coming from it smelled slightly bitter. I wasn't sure what it was, and there were no books or parchments on the table to inform me.

Curiosity satisfied for the moment, I turned around and went the left of the two doors, pulling it open. It was the bedroom. A large four-poster bed stood to the right of the door, draped in black curtains and a green silk bedspread. In front of me was a dresser with a round mirror, and I walked forward to look at myself. My hair was a mess, a dark smudge running from my chin to my ear, and despite my rest I had dark circles under my eyes. My robes were torn in places, dotted with dirt and gore from the battle. In truth, I looked like a nightmare. No wonder Snape hadn't trusted me!

I exited the bedroom and went to the second door. It opened onto a marble staircase, which wound further up the tower. I climbed the steps curiously, and was greeted by a large circular bathroom. A large bathtub, similar to the one in the prefect's bathroom, was in the centre of the room. A double sink was to my right, with a large, curving white mirror, and next to it was the loo, surrounded by frosted glass. Opposite was a large, low window, which looked out over the castle grounds. Certainly, being headmaster had its perks.

Thinking of my reflection in the mirror again, I decided to take a bath. Snape was away, after all, and it seemed likely he would be back late. So I stripped off my clothes, turning on the taps of the enormous bathtub, which filled with pink bubbles.

I stepped in gingerly, the warm water feeling like bliss against my skin after so long. I shut my eyes and sank into the water, letting the bubbles pool around my shoulders, allowing myself to relax for the first time in months.

Somewhere, in some time, the war was over. I would give myself this reprieve before turning back to my mission to save Snape. Surely, the first task was to get him to trust me and not see me as a burden.

An hour later, well scrubbed and my skin wrinkled and swollen from being in the water so long, I forced myself from the bath. I found a large, fluffy white towel on a shelf near the window, and wrapped myself in its soft folds. My hair hung damply in soft curls on my shoulders, and I rubbed it with my towel while taking my small beaded bag from my dirty robes. It was a good thing I'd asked Snape for new robes, as these were now definitely needing to go in the rubbish bin.

Grabbing my wand, I summoned a clean pair of knickers, a different bra, jeans, and a t-shirt, and cast a Drying Charm before putting them on. I still needed a hairbrush, my old one having been lost some time ago, but all I could find among Snape's things was a thin plastic comb. My hair would likely break the flimsy thing into pieces before I got through a single section, so I gave up, untangling the knots with my fingers as best I could, then letting my bushy hair do what it wanted.

As I was hanging my towel to dry, I felt a shimmer of magic from below as the wards changed around me; Snape, apparently, had returned early. Then I heard a crash, and a deep voice swearing. I hurried down the stairs, hand on my wand in case Snape tried to hex me—he'd threatened to do it so often that I thought it best to be careful.

Another crash came as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and I tentatively opened the door.

"Stupefy!" I heard him yell, but being prepared, I cast a shield over myself. Snape's eyes widened in shock when he saw me, then turned to annoyance, and I thought maybe he'd forgotten I was there.

"Welcome back, sir," I said, lowering my wand and deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment. "Is everything all right?"

"As far as you are concerned, Miss Granger, everything is just peachy," he snapped. He walked over to the sitting area, where I noticed the blanket, pillow, and tray were missing (presumably removed by a house elf while I was in the bath), and sat down. He looked not unlike a sunbathing cat, one arm over the back of the sofa, his legs crossed in front of him, and I sat down across from him.

"So tell me, Miss Granger, what exactly do you plan on doing for the next eight months?" he asked, as if he didn't really care what I answered with.

"I'm not sure exactly," I admitted. I wasn't entirely sure how I planned on getting Snape to trust me, let alone convince him to live, and telling him that wasn't going to get me any points, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Well, bravo, I can see a lot of thought went into this little plan," drawled Snape.

A snappy comeback was not going to get me into his good books either, so I decided to change the subject.

"How do you like being headmaster?" I asked.

"Oh, it's just wonderful. Saving children from their own stupidity is what I have always dreamed of," said Snape bitterly.

"I never understood why you teach, if you hate children so much," I admitted.

"You know perfectly well why I'm here, Miss Granger," snapped Snape.

Again, I decided against asking him sarcastically if he enjoyed being a spy. He really was offering up so many opportunities; I was a little sad to have to control myself again.

"You can call me Hermione," I offered instead, thinking it might lighten our relationship.

"I'd prefer not to get on any friendlier terms, Miss Granger. It's bad enough to be forced into your presence," said Snape. "Will you be jumping up and down with your hand in the air every morning, or do you only do that in class?"

"Oh, I do it as often as I can," I quipped, unable to stop myself this time. "In fact, let's play a game: I'll put my hand in the air, and you can see how long you can ignore me for."

"Indefinitely," drawled Snape, looking bored.

"It's too bad I'm no longer a student, or you could take away some house points for fun as well," I said, feeling I was really on a roll now. "Or would you prefer some other form of torture, like the Carrows?"

"That is enough!" shouted Snape, sitting up violently. "How dare you insult me in my own rooms, you little—"

"Mudblood? Is that what you called Lily too?" I spat back.

What little colour there was drained from Severus's face. He leapt across the space between us and grabbed my arm, yanking me up to my feet and pointing his wand at my throat. I had an odd sense of deja-vu, and my wrist twinged in pain as he tightened his hold on it.

"Ah, so you do like torture like the Carrows," I said, staring defiantly at him. I was done with letting him act like a sod while I tried to be nice.

He let me go roughly, and I stepped backwards, rubbing my wrist and glaring at him.

"We are going to bed now," he hissed. "Follow me unless you want to be thrown out the window."

I followed him into the bedroom. He flicked his wand and a small bed appeared opposite his own, next to the fireplace, covered in grey blankets. He stared at me as though expecting me to crawl into bed immediately in my jeans and t-shirt, and I decided, seeing as I'd only just got up, I wanted a little bit of fun first. It would make this whole ridiculous situation just that much more bearable, at least.

"Er, Professor," I said tentatively, "until I get the things you sent for, do you have something I can wear to bed?"

Snape blinked, staring at me. I waited, trying not to feel too pleased at his discomfort.

"Excuse me?" he finally said.

"Well, I don't mind sleeping in my underwear, but I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable with it," I said innocently, biting my bottom lip, not quite sure what had got into me. Perhaps it was the fact that I'd just helped save the world from one of the most evil wizards of all time; perhaps because the last year on the run had made me more confident than I'd ever felt before; or perhaps because Snape had been a complete arse to me ever since I'd arrived when all I wanted to do was help him—yes, that last one was probably it.

A blush crawled its way up Snape's pale cheeks, returning colour to his face, and I had to stifle a grin.

"Most certainly not!" he stammered, summoning a grey nightshirt from his dresser and shoving it into my hands. I held it up in front of me to inspect it. Honestly, it was hideous, and I imagined it must have made Snape look like some sort of pale slug.

I couldn't help my giggles this time, and said, "You don't seriously wear this, do you?"

"What's wrong with it?" Snape snapped.

"Well, no offence, sir," I said, "but it looks like something my grandfather would wear." Gods, what had come over me? The old Hermione never would have said any of this to her professor, let alone the intimidating dungeon bat. But if Snape wouldn't let me save his life, then at least I could salvage the trip by taking the piss out of him. The only thing that would make it better was if Harry and Ron were there to watch.

I saw Snape's eye twitch. Well, as long as he doesn't kill me.

"It's fine, it's fine," I said, not wanting another row. "Would you mind stepping out while I get changed?"

Snape quickly spun and left me, and I heard him collapse on the couch and sigh loudly on the other side of the closed bedroom door.

Amused, I changed into the night shirt, which was far too large, practically dragging on the floor and the arms a good four inches longer than my fingers. I looked like a four-year-old wearing her father's clothes. Unwilling to sleep in it the way it was, I transfigured it into a nightgown, which was still an ugly grey, but at least fit me better.

I peeked my head out the door. Snape was laying on the couch facing me, staring at the ceiling and rubbing his thumb across his Adam's apple, clearly thinking about something.

"I'm finished, sir, if you'd like to come to bed," I said.

Snape looked over at me and I saw a slight smile grace his lips before he fixed his face back into a stern mask.

"I will be up for some time," he said smoothly.

"Good night, then," I said.

"Good night, Miss Granger," he answered, and I closed the door.