a/n;

song credit is Hold Onto Me, Mayday Parade

I know I've got my problems and it starts with me
She saw something inside that I can't see
And late at night yeah she'll comfort me
Hold onto me, hold onto me

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Severus glowered down at the girl in front of him, doing his best to seem imposing, knowing she wouldn't be intimidated even if he did. Zero self preservation instincts. Fucking Gryffindors.

Hermione merely blinked innocently up at him, completely unfazed.

"You realize this is your third day attending classes here, don't you? You couldn't even go a week before you dove right in the middle of some inter house rivalry bullshit?" He snapped, knowing he was overreacting but unable to make himself stop.

What was it with these Gryffindor girls, always ready to jump into the middle of the most dangerous situations without a second thought to their own safety all because one of those fucking Marauders-

"Severus, stop glaring at me, I can practically see what you're thinking. You know you're not that good at hiding your emotions. Maybe that will come with age," she said thoughtfully, slinging her book bag over her shoulder as she stepped around where he was standing, directly outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms. She made for the closest staircase as she headed to the Great Hall and Severus frowned at her retreating back.

What is she even talking about? He thought to himself in agitation, catching up to her in two swift strides. Every now and then she made the oddest comments, almost as if she were talking to herself, but they rarely made much sense.

"Honestly, Severus, what if your face froze like that?" Hermione asked him. Severus suspected she was teasing him, something she seemed to be doing with increasing frequency over the last three days. He was never quite sure how to respond. Her teasing always had a kind quality to it and her kindness usually reminded him of-

No, he told himself savagely. Not today. Not after seeing her hurt so badly yesterday, almost as gravely as Hermione. Two kind girls who had met him and for whatever reason decided he was worth their time. He had already lost his friendship with one of them. There was no sense in reliving past mistakes.

"Most people would likely call it an improvement," he replied sarcastically instead, but without much of the heat of his earlier words. He was still annoyed at her total disregard for her own safety, but she was recovered now and smiling brightly at him as they walked to breakfast together. He had waited for her outside her common room for over thirty minutes this morning, despite having to see... well, there was no point staying angry. He was happy she was better and choosing to spend time with him again.

"Most people are idiots, then. I like your face exactly the way it is. Though you could do with smiling a bit more. It might make you seem more approachable. No one is ever going to want to talk to you, you're going to scare them away with one look."

"And yet, here you are."

"Well I believe we've already established your opinion on my self preservation instinct."

"If you mean your utter lack thereof, yes. I'm starting to think you'd walk straight up to a werewolf and make friends if you thought it looked lonely."

She burst into a peal of laughter at that, head thrown back in mirth. He wondered what she found so amusing.

He wasn't the only one.

More than one head turned to regard them in open astonishment as they neared the Great Hall, some students whispering to their friends with their hands up to their mouths, many not even bothering to hide their outright interest as they stared.

Severus shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their attention. It had been the same before, with her. No one ever seemed able to believe a girl like that would willingly have anything to do with someone like him. And really, who could blame them? He knew what he looked like, what he acted like. He wasn't pleasant or charming, wouldn't know where to begin at being so. He didn't understand Hermione's determination to be his friend despite his unlikable personality, not to mention everything he was sure she'd heard about him from her pathetic group of friends. Possibly even... the other girls she shared a dorm with, though he hadn't seen her interact with any of them yet.

He wondered at that, too, as they parted ways at the doors of the Great Hall with Hermione's promise to join him again in Advanced Potions first thing after breakfast. She walked away with a smile on her face, eyes still dancing with mirth over his earlier comment. But when she approached Gryffindor table she didn't spare so much as a glance at the group of seventh year girls she passed, and now that Severus was thinking about it most of them seemed to be glaring at her disdainfully as she...

Oh, that was it, he thought with an accompanying snort of derision. Of course.

Hermione sat down next to the Marauder's, all of whom greeted her with wide smiles and immediate conversation. Severus had to laugh as Vane missed her mouth completely with her fork and stabbed herself in the chin instead, busy as she was staring daggers at Hermione a few seats down the table. Jones was looking at her with equal venom next to Vane and...

Severus abruptly turned on his heel, belatedly realizing he'd been standing in the same spot for an entire minute as he observed the goings on at Gryffindor table. Thankfully breakfast was nearly over, him and Hermione arriving late as appeared to be her custom, so there were fewer people to witness his scrutiny.

He stalked to his own table with renewed irritation and chose an empty spot a few spaces down from the remaining seventh years. He was rather hoping his distance would discourage anyone from speaking to him, as he was decidedly not in the mood after seeing her staring wistfully down the table at fucking Potter. Alas, Severus had never had much in the way of luck outside the distinctly bad kind. He had no sooner sat down and started spreading jam over a piece of toast before Mulciber leaned forward and spoke.

"We were starting to wonder if you were going to join us this morning, Severus. I see you were taking your time with the new blood traitor bitch. Surprising, given what happened with the last dirty blood you made friends with," he said in his usual unpleasantly nasal voice.

So it was going to be one of those mornings.

"My private life has never been your concern, Felix. You'll have undoubtedly noticed my acquaintance with her didn't stop me from participating in that rather unseemly commotion you caused yesterday."

"I also noticed you managed to somehow avoid doing anything to her, or to the mudblood you used to be so fond of."

"How you noticed anything beyond the cracks in the floor is astonishing, given that new girl managed to put a full body bind hex on you before the battle had even begun. I don't recall you doing much else before Slughorn took it off you," Severus drawled lazily, not even bothering to look Mulciber's way as he continued with his breakfast. From the corner of his eye he saw the other boy's face go red in anger. Avery placed a restraining hand on his shoulder before he could attempt anything.

"Severus, be sure that you're thinking clearly. Your attachment to the mudblood was... unsavory at best, but perhaps more easily excused given your prior acquaintance outside of school. This girl, however, there's no logical reason to associate with her so. It's been noticed, Severus. There are some who are beginning to question where your loyalties lie," Avery said.

Severus worked to keep his face smooth and unconcerned. Hermione's earlier words came back to him, telling him he was no good at hiding his emotions. It vexed him to admit it but she was right. He often let his feelings get the better of him. Many of his altercations with the Marauder's could likely be blamed solely on that, loathe though he was to admit it. He tried hard to not let the tension in him show as he poured a cup of tea slowly before answering, making sure to choose each word carefully.

"An embarrassing question to be sure. It may have escaped the notice of any of you, given that the only classes you share are regular N.E.W.T.'s, but she is remarkably intelligent. Easily above her peers and therefore, as not a single one of you takes an Advanced course, the only person worth speaking a word to the better part of my day. As such I hardly have to go out of my way to speak to her, and the conversation itself is enjoyable. And unless any of you have suddenly developed an interest in ancient Latin poetry or the emergence of the arithmetic equation, I will continue to speak to her about any relevant studies or coursework should I feel the urge," Severus said with an air of cold finality.

There was no need to mention that he had waited outside her dormitory this morning just to see for himself she was all right, having been prevented from visiting her in the Hospital Wing the night before for this exact reason. Or that while many of their conversations were certainly academic in nature, they were also often teasingly playful and full of a happy banter he enjoyed as much as he did the subjects they spoke of.

He maintained eye contact with Avery until the other boy finally nodded. Slowly, as he clearly turned over Severus's words in his head and examined them for falsehood. But ultimately he seemed to accept his explanation as he inclined his head slightly towards him.

"So long as that is the extent of your association, there's no cause for concern. I'm sure everyone agrees," Avery replied smoothly.

"I know my place, Alastair."

The other seventh years nodded their assent at this. Mulciber still looked like he wanted nothing more than to curse him where he sat but at Avery's stern look he grudgingly acquiesced. Not, Severus thought to himself contemptibly as he stood with the others and gathered his things, that he had the slightest chance in challenging him. That was perhaps the only real leverage he had here, and what made Avery inclined to accept his words.

Severus may not have been born into an esteemed pureblood family, and perhaps he would never know the luxuries and comforts that most of his fellow Slytherin's indulged so utterly in, but he had been blessed with rare gifts. He was cunning and shrewd, always a step ahead of those around him. He excelled at all of his studies, something none of the rest of them could claim, but he was especially gifted in two distinct areas that made him a dangerous adversary.

He could brew potions that would make even the most skilled potion's master envious. Dark potions, insidious concoctions that gave no warning and left no trace. And he was no saintly Gryffindor or pure-hearted Hufflepuff; Severus had no qualms in using those potions as weapons if he were threatened or harmed.

His skills in the Dark Arts were also a thing to be coveted. He had mastered and demonstrated much dark magic that was well beyond the skills of his fellow classmates, and invented more than a few of his own devastating curses and spells. Dueling, a popular pastime in the dungeons for many other students, was something none of them were brave enough to challenge him in. He was fast, accurate, and dangerous. His skill in the Dark Arts had made him powerful, and power commanded respect.

Even respect wouldn't save him though if he were judged sympathetic to them. The other side. The mudbloods and the blood traitors and the Gryffindor's with all their useless bravado and posturing.

Severus knew his place.

Or, rather, he knew where his place was not.

It was not with the saintly Gryffindor's who had hated him on sight, judging his second hand appearance and prickly pride and automatically placing him on the other side of an invisible line drawn long before any of them had stepped foot in this school.

It was not with people who mocked him for his shrewd mind and acerbic humor. Who ridiculed him for his interest in cool dungeons where potions simmered and bubbled rather than hot sunlight and crowded Quidditch stands.

It was not with anyone who saw the traits and talents that made him who he was and immediately found them to be lacking or less worthy, simply because he wasn't obstinately reckless and bold when he could be sly and clever.

His place was also almost surely nowhere near the likes of Hermione Granger, and yet Severus found himself exactly there as he walked into Advanced Potions to see her already seated at the same table from two days ago, beside an empty seat that she waved him to with a warm smile.

He had no business sitting next to her, relaxing into the growing familiarity of her company as she chatted happily about some obscure ingredient she had come across last night while reading in the Hospital Wing. He should get up, move to another table where he would be alone, free of the obligations and responsibilities a friendship would bring. He most certainly shouldn't be pulling out his copy of Advanced Potion's Making to share with her, despite knowing full well she had her own, just because it made her smile at him, sharing a little more of that warmth he so desperately craved.

Being friends with Hermione was dangerous, as dangerous as any curse he'd ever known. They belonged in two completely separate worlds. There was no in-between, no middle ground. When they left the fleeting protection of this school she would be welcomed with open arms into the world he had no place in, would never be accepted. And although Severus had yet sworn no loyalty, taken no mark on his arm to pledge his oath, he knew where his path was leading him. There was only one place he fit in, one side where he would ever belong.

There was no gray area where he could avoid the choice awaiting him but if there was, it was nothing short of suicide. A wizard with no family, no connections, no place to belong would not survive long in the coming storm.

Taking his place at the Dark Lord's side was something he approached out of no other choice, and though he relished the power and and respect he would earn there, the chance at a life he had only ever envied from afar, it was never a choice made without regret.

Regret that he would inevitably be forsaking her, his very first friend and someone he had loved, still loved more than the air he breathed. Regret now that it would separate him from Hermione the same way. After her, she was the only other person to ever show him true kindness, who looked at him not with contempt and fear but joy and warmth.

There was no place for their friendship outside these walls and he would save himself pain to end it now, but he knew that he wouldn't. He would enjoy it, bask in it as long as time allowed, because it felt so nice to simply be accepted again for who he was and not condemned for all that he wasn't.

From the other side of the classroom, Severus felt her eyes on him. Had always been able to as surely as he could sense her presence among a hundred other people in a crowded room. Before, he had convinced himself naively that it meant something fanciful and poetic. Now he knew better, that it had only ever been him who felt that way and no matter how strong the emotion was it couldn't change who they were and who they were not.

The temptation to look back, to meet her eyes for the first time in months since she had turned them away forever was almost more than he could stand. But he steeled himself, forcing his face again into a perfect mask. Her friendship was a privilege he had lost, and deservedly so, one he could never get back.

Severus turned instead to face the front of the classroom as the lesson began and spent the next hour and a half speaking quietly to Hermione as they worked, taking turns writing notes in his textbook, and ignoring the gaze he felt on the back of his neck like a brand.