Chapter 9

La Sicurezza

(Security)

Hermione awoke slowly, finding it difficult to open her eyes. They still felt puffy and sore. Everything felt sore. She could tell that she was lying on something soft, with what felt like a blanket resting over her. It was as she felt the soft blanket that the memories of what had happened came rushing back like bolt of lightning.

She bolted upright, feeling a tidal wave of fear and nausea crash through her. She immediately reached for her wand, which had been, amazingly, resting next to the couch she was lying on. She didn't recognize anything around her as she peered around the room. Her eyes found a small table near the couch, bookshelves that adorned the walls, and a fireplace with two chairs stationed in front of it. In one of those chairs was the shape of a man.

Jumping to her feet, she pointed her wand towards the figure and shouted, "Where am I?!"

The man stirred suddenly, lowering the book he had been holding and turning to look at her. When she made out his pale face and dark eyes, the hand gripping her wand dropped and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Miss Granger," his calm, soothing voice spoke to her as it had done in the music room and Hospital Wing. "I'm glad to see you're awake. Do I dare even ask where you thought you were, or who you were with?"

She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "My memories seem jumbled. For a moment, I thought I had been…"

"Kidnapped? Abducted?" he asked, laying the book down on a small desk next to his chair and getting to his feet. He flicked his wand and two lamps ignited, allowing more light to illuminate the room.

Hermione squinted for a few seconds, allowing herself to become accustomed to the new brightness of her surroundings. "Well, yes, but now I'm beginning to remember…" and suddenly she saw Zabini's face, his cruel eyes narrowed into slits and his buckthorn wand pointing into her chest. Sucking in a shallow breath, she felt herself begin to sway.

Her professor was at her side in a few long, quick strides. He held her by her arms and gently guided her back onto the couch. "You need rest. Sit here and drink this." With another flick of his wand he had conjured a small glass with a turquoise-blue liquid inside.

"Draught of Peace?" she asked, tentatively taking the glass from him.

"Yes. It will help relax you while you recall the events of last night," he explained, still keeping his voice calm and soothing.

Taking a sip of the potion and immediately feeling it begin to take effect, she looked around and asked, "Where am I?"

Her professor brought the chair he had been sitting in moments before to rest across from the couch and then slowly brought himself to sit down. He surveyed her face for a few moments, as if debating what to tell her. She noticed he didn't sit far from her, probably in case she became wobbly again, but she appreciated his closeness.

"You're in my private chambers," he finally answered, never taking his eyes from her face. "My private sitting room, to be exact."

She felt her eyes widen and she continued to gaze around the room, momentarily speechless. His private chambers? What in Merlin's name had provoked him to bring her here? "I don't—"

"How much of last night do you remember, Miss Granger?" he interrupted.

"I… I remember the Three Broomsticks. I remember Za-Zabini. I remember him inviting me into his room. I remember him…attacking me. Then I remember you…" she brought her eyes to his slowly and saw the events of earlier replay in her mind; the door to Zabini's room crashing open and her professor's form filling the doorway. "I remember that you… saved me. Thank you so much, Professor. I—"

He cut her off again with the wave of his hand. "It is my job to protect all students in this school."

His brisk and dismissive tone caused her stomach to clench. Not only that, but she felt so ashamed. She had never needed protecting before. She had always been the one helping to protect others. And now she had suddenly become a student who the professors felt the need to protect? Had she truly become that helpless?

"I'm so sorry…" Hermione found herself gasping, suddenly feeling tears begin to well up in her eyes. She should have been more careful. She shouldn't have had so much to drink. She should have stayed with her friends. She should never have gone into Zabini's room. "I should never have—"

"No, Miss Granger, it is I who should apologize."

She jerked her head up and stared at him. He hadn't done anything to warrant an apology. He had saved her before Zabini could… she couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

"I had seen you and Zabini ascending the staircase to the seventh floor. I should have immediately pursued, knowing that Zabini would never have entertained the idea of being with you. He is a dogmatist through and through, unfortunately. Instead, I had hesitated, and had even turned away, before finally the absurdity of the situation hit me. But still, if I had not faltered… I could have been to you so much sooner."

Hermione shook her head. "That isn't your fault. It's my fault. I should never have trusted him. He had been acting strangely towards me since the first night back. If anything, as he is your student, I should have approached you about him. But I didn't think… oh god, that's just it, I allowed my guard to come down. Being back at Hogwarts made me feel like I was safe… and I'm clearly not." More tears welled up in her eyes at the realization of how idiotic she had been. And now she was afraid to even walk back out into the regular hallways of the school. What if there were others who would follow in Blaise Zabini's footsteps? Ginny had been right. He hadn't been interested in a friendship with Hermione. He had been interested in hurting her. She felt her breathing begin to quicken and her face begin to tingle at the thought of other students wishing to attack her, or worse, the thought of others wishing to attack her friends. Would she just be the first victim in a long line of carefully-planned attacks from within Hogwarts?

Once again, Professor Snape was at her side, bending down in a crouched position to better look her in the eyes. "Miss Granger, calm your breathing or you will go into shock. Please, steady yourself and finish the potion. I need you to remain calm and finish telling me what you remember from last night."

Encouraged by his presence and his gentle coaxing, she managed to gulp down the rest of the Draught of Peace and control her short, quick breaths until they became deep and calm. She opened her eyes, not even realizing she had closed them, and found his jet-black irises staring into hers deeply. "I remember that you came. And then Neville and… oh, Merlin…" she trailed off, her expression suddenly becoming pained.

"Never mind Longbottom, Lovegood and Macmillan. What happened next?" he pushed her to continue, but not without tenderness.

Swallowing back more tears, brought on by utter embarrassment, she continued, "They left on your orders and you gave me a blanket. You took me into my room and stayed with me until the headmistress and Madam Pomfrey and Molly—Professor Weasley—arrived."

"And then what," he encouraged, nodding.

"Madam Pomfrey gave me the same calming ointment she had done before, and it helped me enough to explain, briefly, what had happened. Then Madam Pomfrey left to retrieve some potions she knew I would need, while you spoke with Professor McGonagall and Professor Weasley. Madam Pomfrey came back after only a few minutes, I think—that's what it felt like, anyway—and gave me Burning Bitterroot Balm for my wrist burns, a Calming Draught to relieve more of my shock and anxiety, and also a Dreamless Sleep potion to use once I wanted to sleep. I remember that you were…you were…" she faltered, unable to find the words to explain how he had been acting.

McGonagall had been alarmed, but immediately began asking all the appropriate questions, while Molly had been aghast and insisted on holding and rubbing Hermione's hands, while Madam Pomfrey had been entirely focused on treating her patient. But Snape… he had been frighteningly furious. More so than the witch had ever seen him in the past. Not even as angry as he had been in her third year upon hearing that Sirius had managed to escape. Back then, he had been thunderous. But this time… magic had seemed to radiate from her professor in a way that she could almost taste, and though he wasn't yelling, he was demanding that he treat his Slytherin student in a means that was equivalent to how the boy had treated Hermione. Headmistress McGonagall had immediately shot him down, stating that now was not the time for brash action and that Mr. Zabini would be confined to his room until the Aurors were informed and could come retrieve him for a proper trial. In the meantime, she would also be informing Ms. Zabini of her son's despicable actions and that he would be sent to the Ministry to await trial.

That was when Snape had lost his temper and had finally shouted, stating that the Slytherin should be sent to Azkaban immediately. McGonagall dropped her tone so that her next words were a calm, but deadly threat, and had said, "Severus, if you do not calm yourself at once then I will have no choice but to ask you to remove yourself." Hermione remembered her headmistress glancing towards her in that moment, but that Snape couldn't seem to bring himself to turn around and look at her. He did, however, let out a long sigh through his nose and cease his raging storm.

"You were… you were willing to hurt Zabini…" Hermione finally spoke aloud.

"He deserves it," her dark professor snarled, standing up abruptly from his position in front of her and returning to sit in his chair.

Hermione felt her head shaking back and forth. "He deserves a trial. But I… I really don't want to have to testify…"

"There are ways you can testify without appearing in front of the court. By letter, for example, or by the presentation of memories, as I had done, which seems the most viable away to provide evidence."

"It's going to be so painful," Hermione found herself whimpering.

"The presentation of memories is not painful at all," her professor argued.

She shook her head. "That's not what I was referring to…" Having other wizards and witches seeing her memories…seeing her in that way. And the news was surely not to stay confined to the court. There had already been three witnesses. She could be the talk of the school right now, whether or not Neville and Luna and Ernie had painted her in a good light, the situation would at least be shared with Ginny, who would immediately inform Ron and Harry and oh, god, she couldn't bear to think…

"No matter how painful, it will need to be done, Miss Granger. Blaise Zabini must not be allowed to receive any punishment except for the one he deserves—a lifetime in Azkaban should serve him well." Her professor's tone was as it had been in her room last night. Dark, furious, cruel… fucking terrifying.

Not wanting to continue to hear him speak in that way, or to think about Zabini and her having to testify, she said, "I don't really remember what happened after I took the entire Calming Draught. How did I end up here?"

"You don't remember asking to come here?" He sounded concerned and when she looked into his eyes she could have sworn she also saw what had to be…nervousness? Anxiety? It was definitely an expression she had never seen on his face before, not even in the music room.

She shook her head. "No, I don't remember. I asked to come here?"

He nodded slowly and sighed deeply, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. This, too, she thought, was uncharacteristic of him. He was usually so…composed. But now, he looked uncomfortable.

"I knew it was an odd request. You must not have been in your right mind when you asked—insisted, rather—that you come here." He muttered this response, not bringing his eyes to her face as they had been before.

"Not in my right mind?" Hermione felt her tone sharpen. "I may not remember asking to come here, but a Calming Draught does not cause delirium or irrational behavior. If I asked to come here, I was completely rational, even if I don't remember making the request."

She watched as the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly, as if he were about to smirk, or smile, probably due to her sudden return to her more normal, stubborn, confident tone. She was relieved, mainly due to the realization that a smirking Snape was much more familiar to her than an uncomfortable, fidgety one.

"When Professor McGonagall said she was going to speak with Zabini and left us, Professor Weasley asked you if you were alright with her leaving to join the headmistress as well. She wanted to interrogate Zabini herself it seemed."

"And you didn't?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Of course I did. However, the headmistress forbade me. Madam Pomfrey insisted—tactfully, I'll give the matron that much—that she wanted me to stay with her and, more importantly, with you." As he said this he continued to avoid her eyes, though the small smirk was still tugging at his mouth. "So, with your consent, Professor Weasley went with the headmistress into the adjacent room and behind closed doors, leaving myself and Madam Pomfrey to tend to you. When the matron suggested you get sleep, you adamantly refused to stay in your room. Neither of us questioned this. But when the matron suggested you sleep in the Hospital Wing, you immediately said no to that, as well, and then very bluntly stated that you did not want to be without me."

His smirk seemed to widen as he made this pronouncement, almost as if he were goading her into arguing she would never say such a thing. Hermione felt her eyes widen again and, instinctively, felt her cheeks begin to burn. "I don't… wow… I really don't remember saying that." But, of course, she thought to herself, it made perfect sense because— she cut her inner thoughts off as she remembered that the professor before her was a highly skilled, possibly one of the best, Legilimens in existence. Dreading the answer to her next question, she asked, "What…what did I say when you and Madam Pomfrey asked why I wanted to stay with you?"

"We didn't," he replied, simply. He leaned back in his chair and she felt him surveying her intently, waiting for her reaction.

"You…wait…neither of you questioned my decision?" She found that extremely hard to believe.

"I can only assume that Madam Pomfrey had been touched at my previously adept consoling skills in the Hospital Wing where it had concerned you previously, and the headmistress, I assume, summed it up as being due to the fact that I was the professor who had come to your aid."

"And what did you think?" she dared to ask.

His eyebrow arched gracefully as he said, smoothly, "I only wanted you to feel safe. If being in my presence, no matter how absurd the idea, made you feel that way, it was the least I could do to offer you a feeling of sanctuary and peace."

She felt that he hadn't really answered her honestly, but she wasn't quite ready to prod him for a better explanation when she herself didn't fully understand why her stricken-self had insisted on being in his company. She had a vague idea, but…again, she cut her thoughts short. That would not be something to analyze while he stared so intently at her. "So…"

"So, after I had agreed to provide you that place of security, you took the Dreamless Sleep potion and I brought you here." He said this simply, but Hermione could tell he was back to feeling slightly uncomfortable. She had invaded his private space. Of course he would feel uncomfortable. Suddenly she felt ashamed for having asked to stay with him. Not only was it an incredibly strange request to make of a professor coming from a student, but it was invading the privacy of one of the most private men she had ever known.

She needed time to analyze her own feelings, yet she was feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. Flashes of the night before kept creeping into the corners of her mind and her body still ached. Putting her head into her hands, not caring if she showed him how exhausted she was, she let out a sigh that pulled her shoulders down and caused her curls to unravel around her hands and face.

-SS-

He watched as she began to give in to the exhaustion she must have been feeling long before now. He was surprised she had kept her composure for this long, in truth. And while he found it both irritating and curious that she didn't remember asking to stay with him, he figured that the memory would come back to her once she had more time to rest. What he was most worried about was that it was now almost five in the morning, yet he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, and he had no idea how to proceed. What was he to say to her? How was he to comfort her? At different moments he had imagined holding her, but the thought alone seemed too intimate. He had thought of asking her what she needed, but then realized she probably didn't know. Merlin, it was maddening.

Finally, resorting to the safest possible course of action, he asked, "Is there anything I can get you? Water? Or tea, perhaps? I also have more calming ointment. Madam Pomfrey was sure to supply me with some before bringing you down here." He managed to keep his tone even and his demeanor as collected as possible, given the circumstances.

The witch lifted her head from her hands, her hair falling back to the sides of her face, and he noticed that her eyes were once again red and puffy. But instead of answering his question, she posed one herself.

"Down here? Where in the castle are we, exactly?"

"You truly don't remember coming down here?" he asked her, his surprise barely concealed.

She shook her head.

"Well, I suppose that can be explained by the fact that you had already taken the sleep potion and it takes effect very quickly. Do you remember the room you burst into on the day my potion experiment went wrong?"

She nodded while using her sleeve to wipe away any moisture from her eyes.

"Well, that room leads to other rooms, those being my private chambers. Had you come through the back door in my private lab, you would have entered into this room." He waved his hands in a circle, addressing the room.

"Is there ever a time you aren't in the dungeons?" the Gryffindor asked with a small smirk. "Other than meal times and Quidditch games, of course," she added, cheekily.

He was glad to see that she was feeling better to the point of being able to risk a jab at him. Wanting to keep her from falling back into tears or a panic, he took her taunt in stride and replied, "Not usually. However, the forest is quite welcoming from time to time, as is Professor Sprout's many greenhouses. I do have to collect my potion ingredients sometimes, as you surely must know."

"Oh, I see, so you're either spending your time teaching, eating, or collecting potion ingredients. No wonder you're so grumpy all of the time."

Ignoring her gibe about being, as she put it, 'grumpy', he added to her list. "And reading. I do quite a lot of reading. Unless you didn't notice that three of the four walls that surround you are covered by bookshelves?"

She smiled at him then, her eyes lighting up for the first time since the previous night. "I did notice, actually, and it's beautiful."

He was taken aback by her words. Beautiful was certainly not a way he had ever chosen to describe his sitting room. Or maybe she was just simply referring to the books. She was, he knew, a bookworm who spent half of her time in the library.

"Should I be fearing for my books, Miss Granger? I hope you don't plan on diving into my personal library." Although, as soon as he mentioned it, the thought of her pulling a book from his shelf and curling back up on his couch to read flooded his mind and he felt overwhelmed with a sense of tranquility. Gently pushing that image, along with the unnerving feeling it had provoked, to the side, for it surely could never happen, he continued before she could answer his question, "In all seriousness, we need to continue discussing the matter at hand."

"Books? Your personal library? Your lack of socialization?" She was still smiling, but there was a gravity to her gaze that hadn't been there moments before.

"I know you'd rather not continue to speak of what happened to you, but the headmistress made it clear to me that we need to discuss how to proceed from here. She completely understands if you would like to take a break from your studies for—"

"No!"

Her sudden shout jolted him for split second, but he instantly regained his composure. "No? You would like to continue with your studies, which means going to your classes and having private lessons with me, all of that with no time to recover?"

"I… I don't want things to be different. If everything is different, the attack will seem more…present. I would much rather…move on. Have things go back to normal."

"Miss Granger, surely you know that would not be a healthy way to approach this situation," he replied, trying to keep his tone soft even though he instinctively wanted to be commanding with her about this point. He, of all people, knew that the avoidance of reality was more damaging than to face it head on.

"Well…if not avoid what happened to me…at least find a way to maintain some normalcy. I came back to school with the intention of coming back to something familiar and pleasant—to enjoy something normal. I was barely even given that chance before…this happened." She stared down at her knees, a forlorn expression on her face.

"Might I make a suggestion?"

She lifted her eyes to him and nodded.

"Why don't you go about this slowly? Today is Sunday. You can meet with Professor Weasley and Professor Hagrid, as I know you are close with both, and you can also seek out advice from Madam Pomfrey. If you don't want to be out in public just now, as we both know that this incident will hardly be kept a secret, you may choose to stay in the Hospital Wing until—"

"I don't want to stay in the Hospital Wing," she interrupted.

He felt his eyebrow raise. "Then your private room?" he suggested.

"Absolutely not. I—" but this time she cut herself off. He watched her closely and realized that she looked nervous, and afraid. "I never want to set foot anywhere near…that room…again."

He knew without asking that it was not to her room she was referring. But he was at a loss. If she didn't want to stay in the Hospital Wing, nor her own room, where in Hogwarts did the young witch intend to sleep? "You aren't insinuating that you leave Hogwarts, are you?" He barely managed to keep the shock, and dread, out of his tone. He had come to look forward to their private lessons together, while he would never admit it aloud, and he could not imagine someone as smart or as talented as Miss Granger to abandon her education. But that wouldn't make sense, as the witch had just adamantly exclaimed at wanting to continue her education as if nothing awful had happened to her.

The fear from her expression had faded, but the nervousness stayed, and he watched, bewildered, as her cheeks flared crimson. "No. I… I definitely do not want to leave Hogwarts. I…was hoping there was…somewhere else…I could…sleep."

He felt utterly confused. She had to have known that the castle wouldn't allow more rooms to be built in the Gryffindor common room. Was she suggesting that they build a new room somewhere else in the castle, especially for her? Unless…

"Are you implying that you'd like to room with one of your professors? Professor Weasley, perhaps?"

Her blush deepened. He could suddenly feel his heart begin to speed up. What in the name of Merlin was this girl…?

"I was actually hoping I could stay here, with you."

Her words, which had poured out like a rushing waterfall, now seemed to suspend themselves in the air between them, like a crackling bolt of lightning. If not for her pleading look of bashfulness and the way his heart had jumped into his throat, Severus might have thought he had imagined her words. The deafening silence continued as they both stared at each other. The popping of the smoldering wood in the fireplace was all that could be heard. It seemed as if they both were holding their breath.

He knew he had to speak. Not to do so would reveal the upheaval his stomach, and brain, were experiencing. Dislodging his heart from his throat, he croaked out, "That would be entirely inappropriate."

"Why?" her question of an answer was swift, like a knife to his gut. It was as if she had prepared for his response. Which, knowing her, she probably had.

"Miss Granger…" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

She interrupted him again. "Do you have a better idea?"

"It is not up to me to find a better solution. This is something you should discuss with the headmistress, as I have no say in the matter of where you can sleep if not in your own room. I'm sure the headmistress, or even your friends, could help you think of a solution. But staying here," he was about to say 'with me' but couldn't bring himself to utter the words, "is absolutely, undoubtedly out of the question. It would be one thing if you wanted to visit my private sitting room if you felt afraid, but to take up residence here is not at all appropriate. I know you know that."

She dropped her eyes to the floor and gave a small sigh. "I know why it's inappropriate. But I'm nineteen for Merlin's sake. I'm an adult."

"And a student," he hastened to add, not wanting his thoughts to linger on the fact that she was, clearly, not a little girl anymore.

"And a student taking up residence with a professor is not appropriate…" she mumbled.

"Not necessarily," he found himself correcting. When she brought her head up to look at him with a puzzled expression he explained, "There have been times, in the past, when a student has taken up temporary residence with a professor; such as a student whose parent is a professor at the school."

"Well, that's unhelpful, as you're not my parent." She made a disgruntled face of disgust.

"Though I'm old enough to be," he replied, darkly. A thought that was not at all just now occurring to him.

"That has always seemed a beside the point fact. Whenever Harry, Ron and I spent time around Remus and Sirius, even though I knew they were, technically, old enough to be our parents, I never thought of them that way. I always saw them more as…I don't know. Younger? And you were in the same year as them, so you can't be over forty."

"Lupin, and especially Black, were juvenile and, at times, senseless. I take great offence to you comparing me to them." He glared openly at her, but she didn't seem phased.

"I disagree with you. But, regardless, that's hardly the point on either matter. Concerning where I should sleep, though, as I'm not related to any of the professors here—"

"An exception might be made for Professor Weasley. McGonagall knows that you have stayed at the Weasley's home almost every year since you came to Hogwarts. That may be an option for you to pursue." When she didn't reply, he folded his hands together and set them in his lap, letting his glare soften. "You should get some more sleep, Miss Granger. After that, you can meet with the headmistress and let her know your feelings on the matter. I daresay she will be able to find a solution better than I."

"I…alright. But…" she seemed to be struggling with her words, and her cheeks were again flushed. "Just so you know… I really appreciate you letting me stay here, even if it's just for this morning…"

He slowly, casually, set each of his arms on the arm rests of his chair.

"I know you've probably already realized this," she continued, "but I feel safe when you're around. Safer than I feel with most people right now. So, again, thank you." She may have been blushing, but she was also making this admission in a very matter-of-fact way, keeping her eyes trained on his face in a more confident manner than he had seen her use previously. He realized that it was important to her to let him know how she felt, and how grateful she was.

His palms were pressed deeply into the squared edge of his chair's arm rests.

He didn't want to make the effort of responding, so instead he flicked his right index finger and summoned the book he had been reading before she had awoke. Pointedly avoiding her gaze, he proceeded to open the book, intending to continue from where he had left off. However, he found his thoughts wandering from the words on the page to the bushy-haired student who had reclined back onto the couch, closed her eyes, and was slowly drifting back to sleep.

A/N: You guys. She's in His. Private. Sitting. Room. There's no way she's getting out of there without one of them breaking down and expressing their growing affection for the other... right? As always, thank you for the comments/critiques, faves and follows! Also, at the request of a guest, I have changed the POV breaks. So now they are -SS- and -HG- instead of .Beat.. Hopefully that doesn't confuse anyone!