"Miss Granger, while I admit there is not much to do in this house I suggest you find an activity that does not involve staring at me."

He noticed! That alone was sufficient enough to make her blush and look down at her hands. She rose and retreated back up the stairs to her room, where she pulled out one of the two books she had brought along and settled into her pile of sweaters and clothing. She may as well read up on dark magic and horcruxes while she was here, she might yet get a chance to use the knowledge. One day.

…

CHAPTER TEN – SUFFERING THESE PAINS

It went on like that for five days. They would wake early, go downstairs to eat their three bites of breakfast, fill their stomachs on water, and then retreat to their rooms, where Hermione would read. At the end of the day Hermione would go and watch the sunset through the spaces between boards on the window that was least blocked. Sometimes Snape would join her, standing stiffly somewhat to the side of her, his hands locked behind his back. He would not move until the sun had set and then he would light his candle and go to bed. Hermione always stayed up much later, her worry and the anticipation on Bellatrix kept her awake, along with her desire to avoid the nightmares that were coming back.

It was one of those night as Hermione lay awake in her room, her eyes focused on the forming cracks in the ceiling in the darkness. She had yet to light her candle since they had been there, it seemed a waste when she felt most of her conscious hours were during the night. But now she desperately felt the need and rolled over, pulling on an extra sweater and a pair of socks to walk over to the other corner of the room where she could sit with her back against the wall and see out the window just barely. She took her candle with her, lighting it and placing it near her, appreciative of the glow and the small amount of warmth it gave off, her mind wandering.

Last summer at Grimmauld Place there had been a muggle boy, a couple years older than her. He was smart and funny, a relief from the constant order meetings and talk of ultimate doom. She had used him to escape the wizarding war. But it really hadn't gone as she planned. Hermione took a shuddering breath at the thought and buried her face in her hands.

Severus woke with the sudden light from the candle, it wasn't bright, but it was enough rouse him, he rolled to one side of the bed and glanced into the other room. Hermione was hunched on the floor in the corner in direct view of his room. She had her candle lit for the first time since he could remember. He watched as she inhaled deeply and covered her face with her hands. She looked distraught. If this had anything to do with Bellatrix leaving them in this house, she needed to get over it quickly. They were going to be here indefinitely, and soon, he was sure, the torture would start. He watched her for a long time as she sat in the corner, until he drifted off to sleep again.

In the morning, Severus walked down the stairs to see Hermione standing in his usual spot in front of the window where they usually watched the sunset from. He wondered if she slept at all. He approached her and stood behind her, she didn't seem to notice him so he cleared his throat. She jumped and turned around.

"You are easily startled."

"Considering this house is wide open to Bellatrix coming in whenever she likes, yes."

Snap made a sound of agreement. "You aren't reading." He observed.

"I didn't feel like it today." Her head turned slightly to the side as if to shield her face from him.

He observed her a moment. "What book is it?"

"An Exploration of the Dark Arts."

His eyebrows rose. "Heavy material."

"I'm researching…" She paused, appraising his face. This was the ultimate moment of truth, if she believed what the letters said. "I'm researching horcruxes."

His eyebrows rose and pinched and his eyes flashed. "So you know about them?"

"Yes, and we know Voldemort," he flinched, "has several. We aren't completely sure what they are but we do know that two have been destroyed. We just need to figure out how to destroy the rest."

"What have you learned?"

She noticed his intensity increased. He cared. "Something with equal or greater magical power needs to be used to destroy them. The problem is, getting back into the chamber for a basilisk fang, and no one has seen the sword of Gryffindor since…" She paused and swallowed nervously, looking away. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Why are you sharing such information with me?"

"Like I said, I don't think you're evil, and since you are the only person I have right now, I need to actively trust you."

"And if you're wrong?"

Hermione shrugged. "You'll give all the information I told you to Bellatrix and I end up dead. Worst case, Voldemort finds out we know more than he thinks we do."

His eyebrows shot up. "Your death is not worst case?"

"This is war, sir, people die."

She said it calmly. Severus was beginning to think he had underestimated Miss Granger, perhaps last night she had not been griping about being locked up here with him. He sighed and turned away from where they had been standing in close proximity and retreated to the kitchen, where he had started storing his food instead of the trunk in his room, and pulled out a bite to eat. Hermione followed.

"We are going to get very weak like this." Hermione noted.

Snape only looked at her in acknowledgement. They would get weak, yes, but their magical cores would still be stronger than their physical ones if they ever got to the chance to use magic again. Severus scooped the water from the faucet to his face with his palm, the familiar tingle of Miss Granger staring at him zipped up his spine. She had stared less during the week but now she was back at it. It didn't bother him as much anymore, but he was wondering what she was thinking of as she did so. He was not accustomed to being stared at in any capacity and he wasn't sure why anyone would.

Suddenly there was a sound and Severus felt the surge of magic before it disappeared again. "Someone is here!" He hissed at Miss Granger.

They both shoved their food out of sight; she tossed her bag in a cabinet as well. Wise thinking. Bellatrix sauntered into the room looking positively gleeful. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Miss Granger became stiff, her facial expression was dark, but he detected a faint tremor in her hands. She was afraid, that was good, she ought to be.

"And to think!" Bellatrix exclaimed, "I nearly forgot all about you two here!"

Severus' jaw twitched. "Your memory is terrible." He snapped.

"Watch it!" Bella hissed, "I have delicious plans for the two of you, and I really want to take the mudblood first." Her eyes gleamed darkly as they flicked towards Hermione.

"I thought you always had an affinity for them. The Dark Lord would be disgusted." He spat.

"Don't start with me, half-blood!" Bella screeched approaching him.

Severus sneered. "Half, yet much better at magic than you'll ever be."

"Enough!"

Bellatrix whipped out her wand and bound Severus in ropes, a gag was cutting through his mouth and a blind fold pressing against his eyes. Bellatrix glared at Hermione and stormed out the front door, floating Snape carelessly behind her. Hermione stared at the door, feeling suddenly very alone and very hopeless.

SHSHSH

The day dragged by. Hermione stood watch by the door or one of the windows until way past sunset. Yet there was no sign of Snape or Bellatrix. The moon was high in its arc before Hermione tried to go to sleep, but surrounded by the sweaters and blankets, sleep evaded her. She stared at the ceiling a long time before she went and stood in the doorway of Snape's room, staring at the bed. The blankets were ruffled but pulled up and tidied. It struck Hermione that he always made his bed before he went downstairs, even if it wasn't a perfect job. Sighing, Hermione felt a strange urge, she tried to evaluate it but fear and the painful silence of the house seemed to be her only motivation. She crossed the rest of the way into the room, pulled down a corner of the blankets, and curled up in the bed. She had a fleeting thought that this was a hell of a lot more comfortable than her pile in the other room, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came. The pillow smelled like Snape, although she had not consciously acknowledged that he had a smell before. A somewhat earthy smell and a distinct sharper smell she couldn't put a name to. The combination made her feel warm and safe. She burrowed her face against the pillow and waited, still unable to sleep.

Hermione figured she must have drifted a little at some point because the pale, first rays of light were poking through the boarded up window in the bedroom. She sat up quickly, a noise down below drawing her attention. She listened carefully to footsteps and the discernable thud of a body dropping, the high pitched unintelligible sounds of Bellatrix talking, then the door slamming shut. Hermione waiting only a minute more before running down the stairs and nearly stumbling over something at the bottom. She gasped when she recognized the form as Snape's. He looked unconscious, he was bloodied and there was a bruise blooming across his cheek. His frock coat was undone and the white shirt underneath was dyed an alarming mix of fresh and dried blood. Hermione dropped to her knees beside him and pushed his hair away from his eyes with her fingers.

"Professor Snape! Sir, wake up!"

A groan issued from the back of his throat but he did not move. Hermione gently tried shaking his shoulder.

"Sir, please wake up! We have to get you upstairs!"

His eyelids fluttered.

"Severus Snape!"

A wheezy breath was drawn in and expelled in a gasp then a coughing fit and his eyes flew open. She saw panic which turned into relief and then his expression neutralized somewhat. Hermione released her breath and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his arm. She breathed deeply then sat up, collecting herself.

"Can you stand up? I'd like to get you upstairs."

Severus closed his eyes and evaluated. He felt like he could move everything, yes. His mind focused on the warmth of her hands pressed against his shoulder and forearm. It was completely strange and foreign and oh so welcome. He nodded, opening his eyes. She changed position, squatting by him, gripping his underarm with one hand, holding the other out in front of him. After a confused moment, he reached out with his other arm and took a hold of her hand. He was distracted by its small softness for a moment before he realized she intended to haul him upstairs. He made an effort to stand and was impressed with the two of them when he found them on their feet. She wrapped one arm over her shoulders and nodded at him determinedly. They began their ascension up the stairs and Severus marveled at her strength, she was much stronger than he would have ever given her credit for.

They made it to his bedroom and Severus noted that the bedding was ruffled and the sheets thrown back. He made a note to address that with her later. She sat him on the bed, pausing a moment to be sure he would sit up alone, then she bustled about him, removing his boots and socks with deft fingers, tossing them to the side. Severus scowled at the mistreatment of his favorite pair of dragon hide boots. She stood and pulled his waist coat from his arms, glancing at it before she dropped it on the trunk. He watched her fingers tremble as she held her hands in front of her, then watched in shock as she reached forward and unbuttoned his white shirt and slid it from his shoulders and off of his arms with delicate patience. She looked at the shirt and seemed to almost gingerly place it on the ground at the foot of the bed. She asked if he could stay like that and he nodded, watching as she ran out of the room and came back a moment later, her beaded bag gripped in her fist. She climbed onto the bed behind him and Severus turned his head trying to see what she was up to but she straightened his shoulders out with a gentle nudge and he couldn't see anything. He heard rustling sounds and the distant clink of glass on glass, a silent pause and then he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out as her finger pressed against his flesh.

"Sorry!" She said, "I need to apply balm to these wounds."

He wanted to ask what balm but he didn't, instead he paid attention to the delicate way her fingers pressed against his skin and then rubbed lightly, and the following sensation of relief from pain he hadn't realized he had been feeling. He felt small hands clasp his shoulders near his neck and pull, gently urging him to lay back. He did, having to put in a certain amount of effort to swing his legs up. She was kneeling beside him, her hands hovering in the event she could help in anyway. Once he was settled, she leaned over him to adjust the pillow into a much better position, her chest right in front of his face. Her loose sweater was falling forward; he could see the creamy expanse of her chest giving way to the curves of the top of her breasts. He made a sound vaguely like huh, and she shot backwards, raising her hands away from him.

"Did I hurt you?"

It took him a moment to realize she had no idea the promising view she had just given him. He shook his head. She exhaled loudly and leaned back on her heels, picking up a jar from beside her and unscrewing the lid. She dipped her fingers in and pulled them out with more salve. She glanced at his face before starting to press the salve into the wounds on his chest. He closed his eyes and waiting for the temporary agony to stop and give way to relief.

"Do you have open wounds anywhere else?"

He was tempted to nod, just to see her agonizing about removing his pants, but frankly he didn't have the energy for the bad joke. He shook his head. She sighed and leaned over him to place the salve jar on the dilapidated table beside the bed, offering him the same view as before. He swallowed, his eyes following her as she sat back and reached into her bag again, pulling out two vials of potion. She hooked her arm behind his shoulders, helping him to tilt his head up enough to drink. She uncapped one potion with her teeth and held the bottle near his nose. He glanced at her and sniffed it. A healing potion, a well-made one. He nodded and she tipped the vial to his lips. He took two swallows and she placed the vial between her knees, deftly putting the stopper back in with one hand. She did the same with the second potion, a muscle relaxant commonly used after the cruciatus curse. He was glad she had it. She placed both of the vials on the table as well. Now that he felt his head returning to him, he tried not to stare at her chest this time. She sighed, running her hands over her face.

"Is there anything else I can do?"

He shook his head.

She smiled weakly at him. "I'm glad you're alive."

He watched with his head turned as she sat leaning against the headboard and closed her eyes. He felt content with the fact that she was not leaving him to go elsewhere and he reveled in the concept of not having to recover completely alone. He felt certain this witch would keep an eye on him without reservations until he was at one-hundred percent again. He was found himself very much okay with this.