Chapter 10: Sentry

Hermione watched the other students file out of the classroom, waiting for the door to close before she approached Snape's desk.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Something happened."

"Something?" he echoed, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, yes, I'd assume that many things happen over the course of a given day. Could you be more specific?"

As strange as it seemed, she'd come to appreciate his snarkiness. Perhaps it had wounded her in the past, but now she understood that he wasn't always trying to be nasty. Sarcastic remarks could even be an indication that he was relatively cheerful, which seemed to be the case right now. His expression was mild, almost pleasant as he waited for her response.

She took a deep breath, hating to spoil his good mood.

"Remember Halloween?"

"While I might be a couple decades older than you, I'm hardly senile. I'm perfectly capable of recalling a holiday that occurred less than a week ago."

She smiled, enjoying the way he was teasing her. Part of her didn't want it to stop, though in the end, he gave her no choice in the matter. His expression grew serious, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Tell me what happened."

"Those messages? I… I found one in my room."

"What did it say?"

"It said…" She hesitated, wishing she didn't have to repeat it. "'I know all your secrets, Mudblood. I will use them to destroy you.'"

He didn't react, other than a slight narrowing of his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet she could barely hear it, a clear sign that he was making an effort to restrain himself.

"Halloween," he said. "That was four days ago."

"This is the first class I've had with you since…"

"You should've told me immediately. Why didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, I just…"

"Just what?" he prodded.

"I knew there wasn't anything you could do. The castle had already been searched, and…"

She trailed off, effectively silenced by his reaction. His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he bit out a response.

"I can see where you might assume that I'm incapable of protecting you. My past failures would certainly suggest…"

"Your failures? What are you talking about?"

But even as she asked, Hermione knew the answer. Whether it was due to circumstances or youthful mistakes, there'd been plenty of times he'd been helpless to intervene. Even when he'd become headmaster, he'd had to do so under false pretenses, forced to maintain his cover as countless students were mistreated. That final battle… he hadn't even been able to lift a wand in his own defense, let alone anyone else's.

"Professor Snape," she said, her voice gentle. "I don't think you're incapable of anything. I only meant…"

"Nevermind," he said brusquely. "Do you have the Invisibility Cloak?"

"Yes."

"Good. Leave it with me."

"What are you planning?"

"I'll be standing guard tonight. Tonight and every night until this situation is resolved. The next time anyone attempts to enter your room… well, let's just say it'll be the last time."

It was a solid plan, though she couldn't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes. When was he planning to sleep? She opened her mouth and then closed it again, sensing that he wasn't in the mood for personal questions.

"Okay," she said instead. "Guess I'd better get to Charms."

"Miss Granger?"

"Yeah?"

"If anything happens in the future," he said, his voice quiet. "You'll report it to me immediately."

She shivered, unable to do anything more than nod in response. Despite the change in their dynamic over the past few months, he was still in a position of authority, ready to draw on his power if he deemed it appropriate to do so. Of course, she trusted him not to abuse that power, but she was very much aware of its existence. Having it reinforced in a situation like this? He'd done that for her benefit, making it clear that her personal safety was something he took quite seriously.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Thank you."

Severus took a nap that afternoon, fortifying himself with an entire pot of coffee before he headed to the guest wing. By then, it was 10 PM, the halls silent other than the sound of his footsteps. Unlike Potter, he had the presence of mind to cast a silencing charm, ensuring that not even the slightest noise would give him away as he put on the cloak.

Then there was nothing to do but wait, his thoughts wandering as he positioned himself against the wall. Inadvisable, perhaps, but he couldn't help wondering what Hermione was doing at that moment. Was she working at her desk? Getting ready for bed? The latter led his thoughts down a different path, one he knew should be avoided at all costs.

He did avoid it, at least for a little while. But as the night deepened, boredom won out over his restraint. By then, he knew she had to be sleeping, unable to suppress a mental picture of her lying in bed. Would she be on her back or stomach? Curled up on her side, perhaps? Either way, he knew her curls would be tumbled across the pillow, long, dark lashes resting against her cheeks. He could almost imagine himself lying beside her, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

What was wrong with him? He had no business…

He lost his train of thought, his body tensing as he heard a growl from inside Hermione's room. Withdrawing his wand, he waited, holding his breath as he did so.

Another growl.

Unable to remain still any longer, he prowled the hallway, taking a moment to check the stairwell before he poked his head into the vacant rooms nearby. He saw nothing, and yet the cat growled again, louder and more urgent this time.

"Homenum Revelio," he whispered, pointing his wand at Hermione's door.

The first marker was only to be expected, revealing that Hermione herself was inside. But then a second marker materialized, a scant few inches from where she slept.

"Bloody hell."

Flinging off the cloak, he jerked on the doorknob, cursing under his breath as the riddle prevented him from entering. He solved it in a matter of seconds, startling Hermione awake as he burst through the door.

"Professor Snape?!"

A brief glance to make sure she was unharmed, and then he scoured the room, using his wand to tear open the wardrobe before he ripped the covers off the bed. He peered underneath, shaking his head as he whipped around to check the bathroom.

"Homenum Revelio!"

This time, he saw no extra marker, shaking his head as he turned to look at Hermione. She was sitting up in bed, her face white as a sheet as she pointed toward the desk. The contents of her schoolbag had been dumped on the floor, all of her textbooks destroyed.

"The library," she whispered. "That's what happened when…"

"When you were Confunded?"

She nodded.

"Stay here," he said, plucking her wand off the bedside table and tossing it in her lap. "I'll return shortly."

There was no point in checking the hall. He'd slammed the door when he'd entered the room, ensuring that no one could've possibly escaped. And yet they weren't in there now, so how…

He frowned, checking the stairwell one last time before he returned to Hermione.

"I'm at a loss," he confessed. "I could've sworn someone was in here. The spell…"

"There one minute, gone the next," she said. "That's what it was like the first time I saw them. Didn't even have time to cast Lumos before they disappeared."

He sighed, igniting a handful of sconces before he dropped into the chair at her desk. For several minutes, they stared at each other in silence, her frustration as palpable as his.

"They ruined my things."

He leaned down to sort through the mess, desperate for something useful to do. Unfortunately, there was little to be salvaged – her essays and other bits of homework had been shredded to pieces. Perhaps that was why one sheet of parchment stood out to him, whole and unblemished while the others were in tatters. He turned it over, sucking in a sharp breath as he spotted the familiar handwriting.

"Is that…" She got out of bed, bare feet padding across the floor.

"It is."

"What does it say?"

"It says and I quote, 'He's not as invisible as he thinks he is.'"

She came around to the back of the chair, peering over his shoulder. "How could they have known? Did you take it off before you…"

"No," he said. "I had it on all night, right up until I entered your room."

"Do you think they might've heard you?"

He shook his head. "Silencing charm. Whoever it is, they must've overheard our earlier conversation."

"But how is that possible? There was no one else in the classroom."

"There was no one in your room either," he pointed out. "No one in the halls when the walls were graffitied, no one in the library when you were compelled to damage those books. This… individual seems to be exceptionally skilled at concealing their location. I've never seen anything quite like…"

"Rita Skeeter."

"Pardon?"

"Rita Skeeter," Hermione repeated. "You know, the reporter?"

"I know who she is. Beast of a woman, though I find it hard to believe she's dressing up statues in Death Eater regalia, or…"

"No, that's not what I mean. Did you know she's an unregistered Animagus?"

"I didn't," he said, "though it doesn't surprise me. Tends to be quite common for people I find loathsome."

He wasn't sure if Hermione knew who he was referring to. If she did, she let it pass.

"Can you guess what her Animagus form is?" she said instead.

"Shrew?"

She shook her head, her lips twitching.

"Weasel?" he suggested. "Magpie, perhaps?"

"Try again."

"Chihuahua?"

"Good guess, but no."

"Miss Granger…" He hesitated, sighing heavily. "Do us both a favor and get to the point."

"She's a beetle."

"A beetle?"

Hermione nodded. "That's how she's able to spy on people, gather all sorts of information she isn't supposed to have. Honestly, I don't know why she bothers. Her stories are so distorted she might as well just make them up."

Severus cringed, remembering the excerpt Rita Skeeter had written about him. Unfortunately, there was much more to come, though the full publication had yet to be released.

"So," he said. "you're suggesting there might be another unregistered Animagus on the loose… one who's form is small enough to access areas that would be restricted to anyone else."

"Small enough to disappear at a moment's notice."

He nodded. "That makes sense, though it's exceedingly rare for Animagi to take the form of insects. I believe this is only the second or third time I've ever heard of it."

"Rare," she said, "but not impossible."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

He turned to look at her, immediately recognizing his mistake in doing so. She was still leaning over his chair, brown curls tumbling wildly over her shoulders. But that wasn't the only thing he noticed, his eyes drawn to the top she was wearing. It was nothing remarkable, some old Muggle T-shirt that should've been tossed out a decade ago. The collar was much too loose, affording him a generous view of…

"Miss Granger," he said, his voice much harsher than he'd intended. "You should really get some sleep."

"How am I supposed to sleep? If they come back…"

"They won't. Not if I'm here."

"You mean you'll stay?" She moved around the chair to look at him, her eyes wide.

"I can't think of a better solution, at least for tonight. We'll figure out some other arrangement tomorrow."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

He sighed. "Go to bed, Miss Granger."

She obeyed, grabbing her blanket off the floor before she clambered onto the bed. Forgetting to avert his eyes, he caught a glimpse of white cotton underwear, long, shapely legs disappearing beneath the covers.

Why did he find her so appealing? Why couldn't he just…

"Professor Snape?"

"You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I know," she said, her voice drowsy. "Just wanted to tell you… there's books in the desk. Top drawer."

"Thank you. Good night, Miss Granger."

"Night."

The room fell silent, no sound but her deep, even breathing as she drifted off to sleep. After a few minutes, Severus decided to take her up on her suggestion, retrieving a book from her desk. Archaic spell work? That would work just as well as anything else.

He did his best to concentrate. Really, he did. Unfortunately, he found it impossible to ignore the fact that there was a half naked girl sleeping just a few feet away, one who happened to have exceptionally lovely breasts. Try as he might, he couldn't banish them from his mind, imagining what it would've been like to slide his hands inside her shirt, testing their weight, their fullness, sliding his thumbs across pale pink nipples that practically begged to be touched. Would she have allowed it? She hadn't pushed him away when he'd been tempted to kiss her, so perhaps…

I'm a bloody pervert.

Sighing, he made another attempt to focus on the book. That was infinitely more difficult when she moaned in her sleep, but he refused to turn his head, refused to allow himself even the briefest glimpse of what she looked like in the throes of slumber. Beautiful? No doubt about it, though that was irrelevant. He was here to protect her, not ogle her like some hormonally driven schoolboy.

With that thought, Severus decided to learn everything he could about preserving food in the Middle Ages by magical means. It wasn't the most exciting subject matter, to be sure, but it did help to diminish his libido somewhat. If he could just keep himself distracted until morning…

Hermione opened her eyes, shocked to see Professor Snape asleep at her desk. Of course, that was before she recalled the events of the previous night, smiling as she remembered his promise to watch over her until morning.

She didn't want to wake him. Not yet. Despite what looked like an uncomfortable position, his expression was peaceful, his head pillowed on his arm. Really, it was difficult to believe she'd ever found him frightening. These days, he seemed like her greatest ally, someone she truly felt lucky to have in her life.

Eventually, she crawled out of bed, wondering what she was supposed to do next. Before she could figure it out, he finally stirred, dark eyes bleary as he lifted his head.

"Professor Snape?"

He grunted. "What time is it?"

"Just past seven."

"Didn't mean to fall asleep."

She shrugged. "You were tired."

He didn't respond, setting her book on the desk as he rose to his feet. Disappearing into the bathroom, he looked much more like himself when he emerged a few minutes later. The wrinkles were gone from his robes, not a trace of stubble along his jaw. Even his hair was perfectly in place, his profile hidden by a shining black curtain as he brushed past her.

"My office," he said, wrapping himself in the Invisibility Cloak. "2 PM this afternoon."

With that, he slipped out the door, leaving her to wonder what had just happened. Had she really just spent the night with Professor Snape? Well, obviously not in that way, but still… she could only imagine what Harry or Ron would say, chuckling to herself as she stepped into the shower.