"Come in, Severus. Would you like some tea?"
He nodded, feeling unnerved as he stepped into the Headmaster's office. His former office, he supposed, though it had never felt that way. He'd changed nothing during his tenure, choosing to leave Dumbledore's possessions exactly where he'd found them.
Most of those things were gone now, replaced by objects that belonged to Minerva. Unlike him, she'd chosen to make herself at home, swaths of tartan and various knickknacks displayed throughout the office.
"Cream?" she asked as he took a seat across the desk. "Sugar?"
"Two sugars."
Adding a couple spoonfuls, she slid a saucer in his direction. She fixed one for herself before she leaned back in her chair, eying him over the rim of her cup.
In this way, too, the atmosphere had changed. She wasn't like Dumbledore, willing to waste time on idle chitchat. Clearly, she expected him to get right to the point.
"There was another incident last night," he told her. "Once again, an intruder has taken it upon themselves to invade Miss Granger's room."
"You're sure?"
"I am," he said. "I also know they were in there on Halloween – they left a message on her wall, written in blood."
"Why wasn't it reported?"
"She reported it to me."
Minerva frowned. "Why would…"
The question in her eyes was obvious, though he knew she was hesitant to put it into words. Why would Hermione choose to confide in him of all people? Clearly, she didn't know how to ask without coming off as offensive.
"Why me?" He shrugged. "Why not me? I'm the only one who took her seriously when all of this started. Everyone else thought she'd gone mad."
"To be fair, Severus, we couldn't have known…"
"No," he agreed. "Not when you chose to rely on preconceived notions rather than common sense."
It was a step too far. He knew it even as he said it, though he made no effort to take it back. He sipped his tea instead, watching as her eyes narrowed. She stared at him in silence until finally, she conceded the point, sighing heavily as she leaned back in her chair.
"An error in judgment on my part. It hasn't been easy…"
"I know."
He didn't need her to elaborate. Many students had been traumatized by the war, reacting in ways that had nothing to do with an actual threat. Some had chosen not to return to Hogwarts, while at least a dozen had left after the first couple weeks. Those who'd decided to stay seemed to be managing well enough, even if Poppy was constantly running out of Calming Potions and Dreamless Sleep. Hermione's situation was entirely different, of course, though he supposed he couldn't blame Minerva for missing the obvious.
"What happened last night?"
"After the incident on Halloween, I decided to patrol the corridor outside her room. I did everything I could to conceal my presence, hoping I'd be able to catch the intruder."
Minerva nodded, motioning for him to continue.
"I didn't see anything," he said, "but I heard her cat growling. I cast a revealing charm, only to discover that Miss Granger wasn't the only person in her room."
"Who…"
"I don't know. By the time I entered, they were already gone."
"How is that possible?"
"I asked myself the same question. There's only one theory that seems plausible, one that was provided by Miss Granger herself. She believes we might have an unregistered Animagus on our hands."
"That's certainly possible," Minerva replied, giving him a thoughtful look. "Of course, their form would have to be unusually small, but that isn't unheard of."
He nodded. "It would explain why this… perpetrator is able to access restricted areas, even those with security measures in place."
"That's true. Riddles aren't too effective when someone can just slip under the door. Or if they attached themselves to a piece of clothing, entering at the same time…"
"Exactly," Severus said, "which is why I'd recommend moving her to a safer location."
"Gryffindor tower?"
"As we've just established, a password will not prevent this individual from gaining access. And while there's something to be said for safety in numbers, we cannot know if this threat is coming from another Gryffindor."
Minerva sniffed. "That seems highly unlikely."
"Need I remind you what happened to the Potters?" he said, cocking one eyebrow. "Unless I'm mistaken, it was a member of their own house who betrayed them to the Dark Lord."
"That was a completely different situation. Besides, the odds of this being a Slytherin…"
He shook his head, holding up a hand to stop her. "I have no interest in debating the merits of our respective houses. What I'm interested in is providing adequate protection for Miss Granger until this threat is eliminated. It couldn't be more obvious that she's the target, regardless of where these attacks are coming from. I'd rather put her in a place where no one can pose a threat to her safety."
"What are you suggesting?"
"Come with me."
Hermione followed Snape out of his office, both silent as they headed upstairs. He didn't speak until they'd made it to the second floor, his voice terse as he waved a hand toward the guest wing.
"Gather your things,"
"I'm being moved?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Obviously."
"Snarky git," she muttered.
It didn't take her long to pack her trunk, shrinking it down and shoving it in her pocket before she stepped back into the hall. Before she knew it, they'd reached the fifth floor, dawning realization making her stop in her tracks as he headed for the next set of stairs.
"Are you taking me to the Room of Requirement?"
"Seems like the most sensible place, at least for the time being."
"Professor Snape…"
"Yes?"
"That room was destroyed."
He glanced over his shoulder, his expression caught between wariness and curiosity. "Destroyed?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"
She explained what had happened during the battle, shivering as she remembered the Fiendfyre.
"I see," he said. "And have you tried to access the room since that happened?"
"Well, no. I just assumed…"
"Assumptions aren't proof."
With that, he continued on his way, not slowing down until they reached their destination. He paced in front of the wall, nodding in apparent satisfaction as the door was revealed.
"How long have you known about…"
He smirked. "I've spent most of my life at Hogwarts, Miss Granger."
Not only had he gained access to the room, but it soon became obvious that he'd requested the Room of Hidden Things. It bore no resemblance to the one Hermione remembered, but there was no mistaking the cavernous ceiling, beams of sunlight trickling in through the windows.
She shook her head, gazing at the piles of ashes that were scattered across the floor. They were all that was left of the stacks of clutter, puffs of gray powder clouding the air as Snape ventured deeper into the room.
"What are you doing?" she said, frowning as he leaned down to sift through the ashes. She saw something spark, her eyes widening as he whispered a freezing charm. "Are those…"
"Ashwinder eggs," he said. "Conjure a suitable container, if you will."
She didn't know what he meant by 'suitable', but he seemed satisfied with the metal box she handed him. He filled it to the brim, tucking it under his arm as he rose to his feet.
"Useful," he said, "though not why we're here. Come."
He led her out of the room, gesturing at the wall where the door had been.
"Right," she said. "I guess I should ask for…"
"Whatever you ask for," he interrupted. "I wouldn't say it aloud."
She nodded, pacing in front of the wall once, twice, and then a third time as she focused on the type of room she wanted. Soon enough, the door revealed itself, seeming to beckon her forward.
"Oh," she said as she stepped into the room. "This is nice."
"Indeed."
She hadn't realized Snape had followed, though the implications were unmistakable. Smiling, she glanced back at him over her shoulder.
"I guess you don't mean me any harm."
"Pardon?"
"I asked for a room that no one who wished me harm could enter."
"Miss Granger…" He rolled his eyes, giving his head a little shake. "If you're still questioning my allegiance at this late date…"
"No, I know I can trust you. It's just nice that the room agrees."
"Yes, well…" Trailing off, he scanned the room, his eyes lingering on the comfortable furniture before he poked his head in the bathroom. "Your accommodations seem suitable enough. Just be mindful of your behavior outside this room."
"My behavior?"
"Make sure you're in here by curfew," he told her, "preferably an hour or two before. If you do find yourself running late, ask me or another staff member to escort you. You shouldn't be wandering the halls alone."
"Okay."
She waited for him to leave before she settled herself on the bed, pleased with her new surroundings. This room was much nicer than her last one, not to mention far more private. She wouldn't have to worry about anyone slipping notes under her door or leaving messages on the wall… nor waking up to find an intruder hovering over her in the middle of the night.
"I don't suppose," she asked the room, "that you could replace my textbooks?"
After a moment, several of the desk drawers rattled. She opened them to discover exact replicas of the books she'd lost along with numerous sheaves of parchment and a brand new quill. Murmuring her thanks, she arranged them neatly in front of her, glad for an opportunity to lose herself in her school work.
As the weeks passed, Severus began to relax, secure in the knowledge that Hermione was out of harm's way. He didn't find any notes under his door either, nor was he summoned to deal with graffiti on the walls.
Perhaps the culprit had given up? Well no, he wasn't ready to be that optimistic. But they'd at least gone dormant for the time being, giving him the opportunity to catch up on much needed rest.
At the end of yet another uneventful day, he retired to his quarters early, adding a bit of Firewhiskey to his tea before he stripped down to his underpants. After some consideration, he got rid of those, too, his body bare as he slipped between the covers.
He already knew what he was planning to do. He'd been craving it for weeks, his head falling back against the pillows as he began to stroke himself. Even guilt wasn't enough to stop him, his body swiftly becoming aroused as he pictured Hermione. The golden flecks in her eyes, those soft pink lips… there was no denying that he found her attractive, nor any reason to fight it as long as he kept it to himself.
He groaned, gripping himself tighter as he pictured her leaning over his chair. The shape of her breasts, that enticing flash of underwear as she'd clambered onto the bed… he could only imagine what it would've been like to join her, her body warm and willing as it pressed against his. Touching her, tasting her, undressing her by slow degrees…
His breath caught in his throat, muscles rigid with tension as he strained for release. It didn't take long. Just the thought of her wrapping those long legs around him, dark eyes widening as she took him inside her…
Severus cursed aloud, waves of intense pleasure ricocheting through his body. He didn't bother to open his eyes until a few minutes later, shaking his head as he came back to his senses. What was he doing? She was his student, not some object of lust. True, it was difficult to remember that sometimes, but he needed to get a handle on these feelings. If he couldn't manage to do that? There were other ways of coping with them, outlets that would be far more appropriate.
He sighed as he finished his tea, slipping into a nightshirt before he laid back down. Did he have any interest in visiting Knockturn Alley, trading a few coins for faceless encounters? Not particularly, though if that was what it took to bring him under control…
He yawned, losing his train of thought as he drifted off to sleep.
Cracking an eye open, Severus glanced around the room. It took him a minute to figure out where the noise had come from, his breath catching in his throat as he spotted the snake on his chest.
"SSSSeverus…"
He'd always taken pride in his lightning quick reflexes, dismayed by his inability to move. He lay there frozen, eyes fixed on Nagini, cringing as a forked tongue flickered against the scar on his neck. Unable to move, unable to speak… he might as well have been Petrified, helpless to raise a wand in his own defense. That hideous snake…
That hideous snake wasn't Nagini.
It certainly looked like Nagini, but it was less than half the size, its body slightly transparent. He knew then that it was no more than an illusion, summoning his wand before he cast a Vanishing spell. The snake disappeared in a puff of smoke, followed by a sigh of relief as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
"Lumos," he whispered, which was quickly followed by a string of curses.
They were everywhere. Dozens, perhaps even hundreds of snakes had filled the room, some crawling up the walls while others slithered across the floor. Several were perched on top of the bed canopy, at least half a dozen more having taken up residence in his wardrobe. A rather large specimen had curled up in his favorite armchair, tongue flickering in and out as it waited for him to react.
This time, he didn't hesitate. He Vanished the repulsive creature, wand flicking in quick succession as its companions met the same fate. Still, he wasn't given any respite, heart pounding furiously as he went through his drawers, his cabinets, muttering under his breath as he stormed into the bathroom. He watched them crawl out of the drain, one after another, wondering how anyone could've done such a thorough job of…
Destroying his peace of mind?
Yes, that was certainly what they'd done. Even when he'd gotten rid of all the snakes, he couldn't seem to calm down, summoning a bottle of Firewhiskey as he sank into his armchair.
He'd been doing well with the drinking, only allowing himself a taste every now and again. At the moment, however, he didn't give a damn about restraint. He drank straight from the bottle, shaking and fuming as he tried to imagine who the perpetrator might be. Someone who hated Hermione, obviously, though their grudge toward him seemed to be on a different level. They were intimately aware of his secrets, in tune with all his weaknesses… how could some random student possess that kind of knowledge?
Eventually, he got up to take a shower, his mood further blackened by a lone snake that crawled up from the drain. By the time he'd finished, it was after 10 AM, the school deserted as he swept out into the hall. Only then did he remember the Quidditch game, an event that gave him the perfect opportunity to scour the school from top to bottom.
He headed upstairs, still gripping his wand as he scowled at a lone Hufflepuff who was unfortunate enough to cross his path.
"Report to the Quidditch pitch," he snapped. "Now."
Hermione hadn't meant to oversleep, though she didn't regret having done so. It gave her a perfect excuse to stay in the castle, avoiding the Quidditch game that would keep everyone occupied until later that afternoon.
That was one thing she liked about attending Hogwarts by herself. Without Harry or Ron around, there was no need to feign interest in Quidditch. That gave her a lot more free time to do things she actually enjoyed.
On this particular Saturday, that involved taking a long bath, followed by a bit of studying. She finished a Transfiguration essay that wasn't due until the following week, feeling quite pleased with herself as she turned her attention to her latest Arithmancy project. Unfortunately, she was missing one of the books she needed.
She tried asking the room, but to no avail. It wasn't the type of book that could be duplicated, apparently, an exceedingly rare volume that was kept in the Restricted Section.
Should she risk it? On one hand, she'd promised she wouldn't wander the halls alone. On the other… well, it was the middle of the day. It wouldn't take her long, and besides, there hadn't been a single incident since she'd moved to the Room of Requirement. What could go wrong?
Slipping out into the hall, she glanced around before she headed toward the library. She ducked around the corner, only to slam into a dark, immovable object.
"Professor Snape?"
She'd never seen him so angry, not even when she and her friends had been a constant source of frustration. His eyes were narrowed into slits, nostrils flaring, his jaw so tight she was afraid it might break in two.
"Miss Granger," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Where do you think you're going?"
She straightened her shoulders, determined not to let him intimidate her. "Just a quick trip to the library."
"The library? Unless I'm mistaken, you're supposed to be at the Quidditch game."
"I overslept," she replied. "Anyway, I didn't know it was mandatory."
"What's mandatory," he said, "is for you to be mindful of your own safety. I told you not to wander the halls when no one else was present."
She sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean…"
"Not as sorry as you're going to be."
"What?" Her eyes widened.
"Detention, Miss Granger."
"Detention?! You can't…"
"Oh, I most certainly can," he said, his lip curling into a sneer.
"But…"
"My office. Immediately."
With that, he turned away, leaving her no choice but to follow as he strode down the hall.