"'Mione, I know its hard, but this is the best way, you know it!" Harry tried to remind her.
"Dammit all to hell, I bloody well know its the best way, but that doesn't mean I have to like it!" She almost growled, then shifted herself to a more comfortable position. One good thing about the enchanted room was that the floor was alot more comfortable than the regular stone of the castle.
Ron did get up this time, and sat beside her, draping his arm over her shoulder, and pulling her close to him. "Love, we know its difficult. I can't even imagine what you are going through right now, but just try to get through. We'll be here, and even though I don't like Snape, he's the best one for the job."
Hermione smiled at her friends. She was lucky to have them. "Actually," she confessed, "I just didn't want the Headmaster to see me like this. He thinks so highly of us, I didn't want to disappoint him." She blushed and dropped her head.
Harry laughed, "Hermione, he's been the Headmaster for years, you think he doesn't know all about how 'we' are?"
Hermione giggled and looked over at Harry. "Yes, but I didn't want him to see it." She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. "There's something safe about it being Snape. He doesn't like me, I know it, everyone knows it. So there's no disappointment involved. I don't have to pretend with him." She cocked her head to one side. "Sorta like with you guys. You have seen me at my worst, and are still there for me. Professor Snape would defend any of us with his life, no matter how many times we curse at him and make fun of him."
Ron threw his head back and laughed. "Only you, 'Mione, only you would compare your best friends to a snarky professor who wouldn't give you the time of day if he saw you in Diagon Alley."
Hermione glared at the redhead, and smacked him on the arm. "Well am I wrong? Am I?"
"No, Miss Granger, you are correct as always." A silky voice interrupted the conversation.
Harry stood up, and Ron helped Hermione stand. "Professor, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't be by until later?" Hermione half apologized wondering how much he'd overheard.
"Indeed, Miss Granger, that was what was intended. However, the next antidote is ready, and now would be a convenient time for me to administer it. If that meets your approval." The words were polite, but his voice was condescending.
Hermione nodded, and looked to her friends. Without a word, they both gave her hugs of support, and quietly left her room.
When they were gone, Professor Snape pulled a vial of foul looking cloudy purple potion out of his robes. "Sit, Miss Granger. If this works, it could be quite disorienting." His voice had lost its overtones of dislike, but not its harshness. She really was a remarkable young woman, he thought as she gingerly made her way over to one of the overstuffed chairs. She is still able to find the laughter in this horrible situation she's found herself in. Once she was settled, he handed her the vial. "Drink." He commanded flatly.
Hermione took the vial and stared at it a moment, "Sir, I'm sorry if you were offended at anything you heard us say. I know my presence here is an imposition on you, especially with everything else that is going on, I do appreciate all the time you are devoting to this." The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. She chanced to look up at the man standing before her, and saw an indifferent expression, as if she had been remarking on the weather.
"Noted, Miss Granger. Now drink." He was invading her mind on a daily basis, making her drink foul potions on a daily basis, and she was thanking him? For the first time in many years, Severus had to work to keep his face blank, when inside he felt such a range of emotions, from the pain and confusion that no one other than Albus or Poppy had ever acknowledged how much strain this double role was, to gratitude that someone had noticed, to exasperation that Hermione just couldn't seem to keep emotions from displaying so obviously, to warmth that she had noticed and cared enough to thank him for what he'd been doing.
Hermione nodded, wondering what was behind that closed face and inscrutable dark eyes. She uncorked the vial and drank the concoction down in one large gulp, having learned early on that you had to drain most potions immediately so you wouldn't bring them right back up. The taste was as foul as it looked, sliding down her throat in one large slickly nauseating mass, settling in her stomach as a large lump. It took a few seconds, then the feelings dissipated, and she felt no different than before. She looked up at the Professor with a question in her eyes.
"It did not work." He confirmed, watching her shoulders droop just a little at his statement. "Had it worked, you'd be unconscious as it reversed the effects." He never told her what to expect, not wanting to influence her to have any reaction.
Hermione nodded and gave a small sigh. Yet another failure. At this rate, she'd be cured sometime around Graduation, after having the worst NEWTS seen at Hogwarts. It was times like this when she wondered if it was all worth it. But so many people cared, she thought she might as well try, for their sakes, if not for hers. Catching that thought, she deliberately pushed it away. She would not let this defeat her and her dreams.
Severus watched the play of emotions over her face. Her determination always won the battle. It was something he was coming to expect out of her, the despair, then the determination. She was amazing in her ability to not let this get the best of her. He hadn't even been baiting her like he had planned. He just found he couldn't do it. So their interaction was kept to a minimum. But he was always aware of her, and he could read her face and body language so well, it was as if she was speaking to him of her thoughts. Such skills came in handy when you were a spy for the Order.
After giving her a moment to compose herself, he stretched his hand out toward her, taking the vial gently out of her hands. "The next potion won't be ready for three days, but I will expect you to be ready after dinner everyday, regardless." He tempered his order with a bit of softness in his voice. Sharply, he turned on his heels to return to his lab.
"Professor?" Hermione's voice stopped him.
"Miss Granger, understand that I cannot excuse you from our daily meetings. It is imperative that we find out who is doing this to you." He scowled down at her.
"No, sir, it's not that. Its just... well, I won't be having dinner in the Great Hall tonight, so if you would find it convenient to... um, view my memories, now is as good a time as later." Hermione met his eyes, trying to discern his reaction. Unfortunately, as always, he was impossible to read. Of course he is, you idiot, he's a spy, if he was easy to read he'd be dead.
Severus paused, looking down at her, weighing the idea. If he finished now, he might get a head start on the potion and get that much more grading done. This extra project was taking up more of his time than he had expected. He had no help, as anyone who knew enough to be useful was either busy, or on the short list of suspects, so he was having to do all the brewing himself. Miss Granger, in her current condition, would be more dangerous than Mr. Longbottom around a cauldron at the present time. "Yes, Miss Granger that would be quite convenient. If you will prepare yourself?" He asked the student seated before him.
This was the compromise that they had come up with, she brought the days events to the forefront of her mind, and he did his best not to read any more than that. Sometimes, if she was particularly emotional, other scenes would leak in, but wisely, neither mentioned it. And once again, she had merely asked for his word that as long as it wasn't breaking a school rule, he would keep what he found to himself. Not many people outside the Order trusted his word. Hell, not many people inside the Order trusted it.
Even though she was prepared, Hermione thought she'd scream with with frustration as Professor Snape sorted through her memories of the day. She relived breakfast, a trip to the library, where she had sprained her wrist again, and twisted her back, an interesting discussion at lunch on the mating habits of Slytherins in general. Hermione had blushed but she couldn't help but take part and laugh, as Ron played Pansy to Harry's Draco, with Hermione herself calling out suggestions. Then the long afternoon that had loomed before her, and her despair at ever being rid of this stupid curse. He was just starting on the memories of the conversation he had interrupted when suddenly Hermione felt a burning pain snake up her left arm.
Professor Snape broke the connection, leaning against the wall, while regaining his bearings. A string of particularly inventive curses left his mouth before he could stop himself.
Hermione couldn't help it, at hearing the 'greasy git' call Voldemort a, "ugly perverted son of a deformed sheep", she chuckled, then slapped her hand over her mouth.
Severus looked at the shock on the girl's face. He shared her amusement, though he could never show her that. "Miss Granger, regrettably I must cut our session short." he spat at her, as if it were her fault. Damn that Voldemort. He'd have to take the time to clear his mind and ready himself mentally. He was going to be late. And that meant another round of Cruciatus. Holding back a growl of frustration, he swept out of her rooms to notify the Headmaster, and prepare himself for the meeting
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Several hours later, Severus Snape was back in his rooms. His hands shaking, his body wound tight, he disrobed and sunk into the large tub in his washroom. There was nothing like a long hot soak and a muscle relaxing potion after one of those meetings. And he was free to let his mind wander. Not even the most powerful Legilimens could reach him in his private rooms. He had added to the protections until they were almost unbreakable. Not many people had both the power and the knowledge to counteract what he had done. It was the one area he could relax in. He mentally reviewed the meeting, in case he had overlooked anything in his report to Albus. He'd arrived about 10 minutes late, as he thought. And, as he'd thought, he was immediately hit with a bout of Cruciatus by old Moldy Voldy himself. Tom Riddle, the amazing incredible Lord Voldemort. Severus snickered softly, letting the heat soak into his bones as he imagined people's faces if they knew what he called the Dark Lord in his thoughts.
When Severus had been approached by the Headmaster as a likely candidate to infiltrate the Death Eaters, he had originally balked. The first time a pure-blood family was attacked, after allowing their daughter to marry a muggle-born wizard, he re-thought his decision. While he did feel that purebloods had the likely-hood of being more powerful than muggle-borns, he was not so stupid as to believe the rantings of an over-grown child out to get the world. Someone had to stop Riddle from destroying their world, and Albus Dumbledore was the most likely candidate to do that. He had approached the Headmaster, agreeing to start spying. He'd been trained extensively at the Auror Institute under a false name and a glamor charm. They concocted a back-story of Severus' growing contempt for the muggle-borns, as well as a desire for more knowledge. After completing the training, he had re-appeared in pure-blood society as a bored, ambitious young man looking to make a name for himself after traveling the Continent for a year. He was very quickly recruited by Lucius Malfoy, among others, and within 3 months had taken the Dark Mark.
He looked down at his left arm and scowled. Moldy Voldy and his over-dramatic ways. He was almost a Gryffindor in the way he went about things. A true Slytherin never broke the laws outright, they just bent them to suit their needs. Tom Riddle just rode roughshod over them. Had Tom channeled his charisma and ambition in a different manner, he could have been the Minister of Magic in a very short time. Instead, he created a ridiculous moniker, and an even more ridiculous symbol. And used both in such a heavy handed fashion that it made Severus cringe. There were so many other ways to achieve the same ends, but they didn't have "style".
He closed his eyes, and let the events of the evening replay, finding nothing he left out. With that he let his mind free, and just basked in the warmth of the water around his body, and the silence and serenity wash over him.
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Not far from where the Potions Master was lounging in his over-sized tub, Hermione Granger bit her lip in indecision. It was just after eight, and Hermione was worried about Professor Snape. She'd never felt such pain, even when she broke her ankle in three places. She'd watched the clock in her room, hoping that somehow, she'd hear Professor Snape come back in, and she would know he was alright. But she heard nothing. And now she was faced with either leaving her rooms or floo'ing the Headmaster. He should still be in his office. It was probably the safer choice. She sighed in resignation, and grabbed a pinch of floo powder, and threw it into the fire place, calling "The Headmaster's Office". She was relieved when Headmaster Dumbledore's bearded face appeared in her fireplace.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" He asked kindly.
Hermione chewed on her bottom lip once again, before hesitantly asking, "Headmaster, have you... um, heard from Professor Snape?"
Albus Dumbledore beamed a smile at her, "Why yes, Miss Granger, he returned not long ago. Did you need him for anything?"
Relief radiating from the young woman, she quickly answered. "No, sir! Its just... he was here before... " She let her sentence trail off, unsure of what to say.
A small frown from the Headmaster, "Yes, Professor Snape informed me. He is back in the castle, and quite safe." He reassured her.
"Thank you, sir!" Miss Granger smiled happily, and sank back into her chair to finish her Charms reading.
Albus withdrew his head from the fire. First the shoes. Now he takes an extra Cruciatus because he is with her. And she's asking after him. He frowned and stroked his beard. This situation would bear watching. Especially as Voldemort had ordered the Potions Master to impede the investigation, in order to keep Harry off balance, and to keep Hermione weak before the final confrontation that they all knew was coming. So there would be more contact between the pair of them. While Albus knew that both would keep to the rules of the school as far as relationships were concerned, it was their hearts he was worried about. Should either or both form an attachment to the other, that could complicate things unnecessarily. And if the feelings were reciprocated between them, there would be trouble. For all of Miss Granger's apparent maturity she still was seventeen. She may be Severus' intellectual equal, but he wasn't sure that either was emotionally ready for all the reality of what love entailed. He would have to keep an eye on the situation. He would not fail Hermione as he failed Harry. If the occasion should arise, she would hear some hard truths from him.
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A/N: I found the fic that inspired this one! It is Damaged Goods by Andrian. Its on , and very well written. Thank you for your inspiration. In reading the third chapter, it hit me what they would have done if Herione *wasn't* being abused. So blame her, not me. *hides from Andrian* Anyways, thanks for the reviews so far. I have a few plotline decisions to make, and there *may* be a sequel.
