"You should earn an award; your screams could wake even the deadest of the dead." Snape stood in front of Hermione when her eyes blinked open.

He'd been avoiding her for a week, since All Hallows, and she honestly would never have expected to wake up to him staring down at her. She chewed her bottom lip, a habit she'd never quite gotten over from when she was younger.

She had managed to fall asleep in a chair in the common room and he was dressed like it was still time to be asleep. His black hair was messy on his head and a pair of pajama pants hung low on his hips. She blinked at his lean figure in front of her a few times before she wet her dry lips and looked up at his face.

"Sorry, I guess I fell asleep."

"I'd say so. How did your friends keep you from screaming all night long? They can't have gotten much sleep if you were doing that while they tried..." He trailed, tone bored.

Hermione blushed bright red.

"Well, see, they were my best friends from childhood and, well, I thought of them as brothers…"

"Spit it out would you? I'd like to get at least a bit of sleep tonight and it is obvious you are going to make that rather difficult unless someone helps you sleep. I don't see anyone else around here willing, do you?" Hermione gulped and shook her head.

"I don't guess so."

"Well, out with it then."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Theysleptinmybedandheldme." He blinked at her, a very plain look of 'did you really expect me to understand that?' on his face.
"Oh for Merlin's sake! They slept in my bed- they alternated nights- and they would hold me while I slept. It was the only thing that worked." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Didn't you have a boyfriend for that?" Why did he keep just assuming she was in a relationship?

It was absurd, she'd never so much as caught the eye of the opposite sex.

She was Hermione Granger, frumpy, bookish, crazy haired, bossy, know-it-all.

She blushed red again.
"I never dated, a bit busy with fighting off the forces of evil and all that. Witches and wizards like me would have been eradicated if we'd lost." She blinked up at him and he cocked an eyebrow.

"You cannot tell me you never dated anyone, ever."

"I went on two dates, one with a very foreign Quidditch player who bored me to absolute tears, and the other with a boy named Cormac who thought his hands should go down my top or up my skirt when it was clear I was interested in neither." She crossed her arms across her chest. He narrowed his eyes.

"It annoys me so very greatly when boys do not know their place when with a lady." He snarled and she shook her head with a little sigh.

"Some things never change then."

"And that thing never will." He held out a hand to her and she simply stared at it. His fingers were long and slender, already callused from time spent brewing and so very him.
"Well come on then, I need sleep." He moved his hand up and down and she very hesitantly tucked her fingers into it and allowed him to pull her from her seat. Her book fell but she hardly noticed as she stared up into his face.

Her fingers sparked with electricity and she wondered if he could feel it.

She thought he could by the way he frowned at her fingers where they met his.

"We removed the charms to stop girls entering the boy's dorm but not the other way around, would you like to come to my room or try to find somewhere else to sleep?"

He was really going to do this for her? She felt like she was going to be sick, or faint, or both.
Was it getting hot in there again?

She certainly felt a bit warm.

"Will I disturb your dormmate?"

"Haven't had one in two years, claim they're afraid I'll blow them to bits." He smirked, a wicked little smirk that lit his face and eyes and Hermione shivered.

"Making potions in your dorm?" She wet her lips.

"Precisely. You are a quick one, aren't you?" He huffed sarcastically as he led her to the hall that housed the boy's dorms. She felt incredibly hot again.
"Come on now Granger, don't faint on me."

"Hermione."

"Pardon?" He furrowed his brow as he turned to look at her.

"Call me Hermione, please, only the purebloods called me Granger and it only really serves as a reminder." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"When you spoke of your blood status I assumed you meant you were a half-blood. Are you muggleborn?"

She sucked in a deep breath. He'd joined up with Voldemort in these years, would he try to destroy her like Malfoy had for being a muggle born?

"My parents are muggle dentists, yes, I received my Hogwarts letter via Professor Dumbledore personally. We'd always known I was different, we just hadn't realized how different I was." She set her jaw and his hand released hers and moved to brush a strand of hair from her face.

She twitched, a nervous motion that made him feel incredibly guilty, still his hand brushed her hair from his face and he found it was not nearly as coarse as it appeared. It was actually quite soft for something so entirely frizzy. He pinched some of it between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it gently as he stared at the long caramel strands in the dim light.

He released the hair, brushing it back again, the backs of his fingers pulled gently across the soft skin of her cheek.

She tipped her face toward his hand and it was the closest he'd been to a woman in such a way. Of course, he'd held hands with Lily, spent time with her, he'd never touched her quite so softly though.

Lily.

His hand fell to his side and he huffed a breath.

"Follow me then." He breathed, trying to gather his wits and turned to lead her down the hall. She unnerved him.

"You don't hate me?"

He spun and narrowed his eyes on her.

"Why on earth would I hate you now? I'm not your biggest fan I'll grant you that, but why would I hate you? Your blood status? Please, if you know me in your time you should be well aware my best friend for many years was muggleborn." He sneered and she blanched a bit. Hermione hadn't meant to make him bring up Lily.

He only wanted to know why she acted so afraid of him. Did he hurt her as an adult? He didn't think he had it in him, not because of her blood status, not when she was so pretty, so soft.

He blinked the thoughts away and raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"I know who your friends are. Remember how I said I know what's in there?" She pointed to his chest and he blinked down at her finger, caught by the sudden urge to wrap his hand around it.

If he felt like this when she was his student it would explain a lot about why he would have been cruel to her.

It wouldn't be a far stretch, it would be frustrating to want to reach out and touch someone who was essentially a child in comparison.

But she wasn't a child here, and it wasn't a little girl that stood in front of him, it was a woman his age with wild caramel curls and warm chocolate eyes. She was earthy and she was warm, she was light, he should know better, light and dark never went together, and he was most certainly the dark.

He managed a nod.

"Well, I know what is there when you have figured yourself out. Right now, I know, I know who you are spending time with. I know what they're telling you. They, they tortured me. I can't just forget that. I'll never forget it, they made sure." She heaved a breath and exposed her arm, the charms upon charms falling away to expose the still pinkish scar. It was still so fresh.
"Now, which room is yours, I would really like to sleep and you claim you will help me." She blinked up at him and for once he let her have control of the situation. He wanted to insist she tell him who did it so he could end them before they had the chance.

He stuffed down the protective instinct.

Stupid, it was stupid.

He'd fucked up with Lily and now he was just looking for another witch to latch on to.

He had his friends, he didn't need to begin thinking affectionately of anyone.

"Here." He motioned toward the door as his hand came out to open it. When she stepped in she was enveloped by the scent that clung to him, stronger than she'd ever experienced and he motioned her toward the bed.
"Do I have to touch you or can I just lay beside you?" She took a deep breath of the sharp scent of potions that bit at her tongue, the freshly cut grass, the soothing scent of old books and parchment, that subtle soap smell that he carried around.

She wet her lips, she knew he had to hold her but didn't want to make him so incredibly uncomfortable.

"They always hold me so I'm not sure. If I wake screaming with you lying beside me we can just move, can't we? So you won't have to hold me if you don't necessarily need to."

She knew he needed to. She hated that she wanted him to.

"I'd rather skip that bother. I would like to sleep." He pulled himself into the bed and turned the covers back. Hermione took off her robes and he stared hard at her legs for a long second.

The dark wizards he spent his time with were very interested in the flesh, he'd been exposed to a lot of legs but hers, for some reason, caught his eye and held it.

She slipped into the bed beside him and he pulled her to him, her body shivered and he wondered if this was what it felt like to truly be with someone. To hold someone for comfort instead of for pleasure. It was an odd concept.

Her hair against his chest was odd as well, it was so soft, like feathers brushing his skin and the faint scent of books and ink and cinnamon drifted off of her to surround him. She was soft, not like the women he'd been with who had all been jagged and bony, she was healthy but by no means bony.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to stop thinking and go to sleep.

His hand across her stomach felt her breathing even and he realized she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

He realized something else as well; she knew he needed to hold her.

His eyes focused on the mass of brown curls that fell across his pillow.

She'd been willing to sacrifice her sleep, her comfort so that he wouldn't have to.

He wondered if she would have lay there awake all night, staring at his ceiling and letting him sleep.

One thing was for sure, she didn't belong in Slytherin, and she didn't belong in his bed.

She was far too sweet for that.

He reminded himself again.

Darkness and light did not go together, they would always battle.

His fingers couldn't help but caress the soft skin of her stomach where her shirt rode up beneath them though and he focused on that skin there, so soft.

"I'm so glad you're alive." She muttered and his fingers stilled.

She had to be talking about someone else. Dreaming of one of those boys she'd spoken about, Harry and Ron.

Had to be.

She wouldn't even realize in her sleep that she was tucked under his arm. In his bed.

It didn't mean he couldn't relish the moment however, and perhaps he could enjoy a few more before she found a way back.

He smirked, yes, she would need to sleep more than this once after all.