Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! I'd just like to say I appreciate how much feedback you give me! I welcome your ideas and questions, etc etc. Let the story continue.

Professor Snape awoke, an unsettled feeling in his stomach, the sort of sensation he got when a potion had exploded or he'd slept through a class. As if that ever happens, he reminded himself, and after all, it's still term. Still, it was awfully quiet, even for summer. He slipped on a robe, tied his hair back, and hurried to his workroom.

Hermione Granger was sleeping in his living room.

Oh god.

Wait. The previous day's events hit him at once. His head hurt thinking about it. He felt slightly perverse, standing next to a sleeping teenager on his futon couch. He couldn't help it- her collarbones protruded, her thin figure obvious under the thin sheet. He made a mental note to get her a quilt, even if it was for the selfish reason that he didn't want to think about how drained she looked. It was the same way he'd been on the night he came to Dumbledore in reconciliation.

She would need food too, and how was he, a solitary man, supposed to entertain a fifteen year old during the day? She wasn't even sixteen yet. He wasn't good at the birthday thing. Had he not been so resentful, he would have pitied Hermione Granger.

He went to get food from the kitchens. He could never ask the house elves to take care of him, after the way his father treated them as a kid. Remembering Hermione's S.P.E.W. badges, he internally sighed. Just because this was common ground, he wasn't going to let her use this one. She'd have to accept that he was a humble man.

She woke up, and her eyes adjusted slowly to the room. She hadn't forgotten about her new situation. She was surprised when she found a note on the coffee table, along with a book.

"I took the liberty of getting your breakfast for you. Clean up for yourself, as the elves don't come in here. You may use the ingredients in the student cabinets and your cabinet. Don't burn anything down, and be back here by noon. You have several potions you'll need to take, and learn how to make as well. I suppose we'll be taking meals together. Be prompt. Dinner is at 6 in the great hall with other faculty, unless you'd prefer to eat here. We will discuss these things at lunch."

Hermione checked the clock on the mantel. It was ten o clock, and she'd already slept in far past her usual rising time. She examined the book he'd left her. It was a manual, quite heavy, of standard N.E.W.T. potions. She grinned. Now she had something to do.

Standing up, her body startled her. Fresh bruises and patches of discolored skin had arrived overnight. Her nightgown draped over her shoulders loosely. Hermione sighed, holding back tears. She was dying, and so far, there was no cure besides the potions that held her body together for longer. She couldn't let go. As soon as she gave up, they could claim her. It was this, or the grave.

What would Harry and Ron think when they found out she disappeared? Maybe the grave was better after all.

She had to hold on. She slipped on drawstring flannels and old sweats and continued out to Snape's office.

Professor Snape looked up when Hermione emerged from his office, book in hand.

"Good morning." She tried a smile, then gave up. It was easier to be polite. "Breakfast and the book are wonderful."

He could tell she was pleased, and it made it easier on him to know she wasn't as ungrateful as he'd assumed she'd be. He was surprised at her, actually.

"Your potions are ready for you. Besides strengthening solutions and revival draughts, you'll also be taking a vitality draught. If these do not hold off the curse for long, we'll try something different."

She accepted the mugs and drained them. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly, but otherwise some of the pain went away.

"Is there a specific potion you'd like me to work on?" She asked quietly.

"I trust you remember the strengthening solution, and the recipes for revival and vitality potions are in your textbook." His voice was cold, but it didn't scorn.

She could accept that.