A/N: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

Chapter Six

She sat on the sofa waiting; a cup of tea on the table beside her was left untouched. He had told her not to wait up but she couldn't sleep knowing that he was out there. The door slammed behind her and she turned anxiously to see him walking across the room, removing his cloak as he went.

"I thought I told you not to wait up," he said curtly.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied.

"As touching as your concern may be, I'm back. So go to bed," he ordered imperiously. She opened her mouth to argue that he was in no position to order her about, but then decided against it. He had already had a trying night, this was no time for an argument. She slid off the couch and headed for the bedroom. She heard him shuffling around and then the tinkering of glasses. She started when a shot glass fell to the floor, shattering. She turned to see him standing over it, scowling as if it had jumped from his hand rather than him dropping it. Glancing up, he noticed her still in the room and fixed her with the same evil glare that struck fear into his students. She turned and scurried into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Slowly, she changed and climbed into bed. He was back, safe and in one piece, so she knew she should be able to fall asleep. But sleep didn't come. It had only been a month, but already she felt uneasy about sleeping alone. He never touched her and rarely spoke to her, but just the sound of his steady breathing and the weight of another person on the other side of the bed comforted her. It had been the same in the dorm, as much as Lavender and Parvati had irritated her at times, she missed their quiet presence, (the only time when they were quiet,) when they had left for the Christmas holidays and she had stayed behind.

Over an hour later, she heard him enter the room and finally crawl into bed. She could smell the alcohol on him. She wondered if his sorrows had been drowned or merely suppressed as she drifted off to sleep.

She was dreaming about the Yule Ball in her fourth year, except this time she was dancing with Snape and he was telling her that even her smooth hair could not make up for her abysmal dancing, when a rustle and yelp woke her. Instinctually, she grabbed for her wand on the bedside table and looked about. Snape lay in the bed beside her, tossing and turning. He mumbled incoherently and he was sweating. He looked ill, and Hermione was unsure whether she should try and wake him or call for Madame Pomfrey. She watched him a few minutes more and then prodded him softly with the end of her wand.

"Professor," she whispered. But he continued twitching and mumbling.

"Severus!" she said a little louder this time and poking him harder. It appeared to work, he sat up in bed with a start, grabbing his own wand. But phantoms from his nightmare lingered and he looked around him frantically. Seeing Hermione, he grabbed her by the wrist and pointed his wand at her, its tip aimed between her eyes.

"What do you want?" he hissed and then she heard him whisper, "Leglimens."

Images of her recent dream flashed before her, then a hundred more. She sat in potions class, her arm raised over her head while he ignored her. He made a rude comment about her teeth that had grown past her chin. Sneaking into his office to steal the ingredients for the Polyjuice potion, setting fire to his robes, solving the logic puzzle, the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack, their wedding, arguing with Harry and Ron about how Snape couldn't be responsible for Harry being in danger...they came so fast and furious that it was all Hermione could do to grab her wand and cast the first spell that came to her mind.

"Protego."

The images didn't stop but changed and they were much more horrible than before. Masked men stood in a circle around a man writhing in pain, blood coming from his nose, his mouth, his eyes. A green shadow loomed over a burning house, while screams could be heard from inside. A man yelled at a woman while a boy hid under a table, listening. Four boys laughed and jeered as the same boy hung upside down. Another circle but this time a large snake slid around stopping and sticking its forked tongue out to taste the fear, a woman was screaming....

The connection between them broke, and Hermione fell back on the pillow gasping for air and shaking violently.

"Hermione?" Snape leaned over her, trembling himself. She tried to answer him, but only managed a faint whimper. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her to his chest. She didn't resist, but clung to his nightshirt as she started to cry.

"The horror, the horror," she choked, her voice muffled.

"Damn girl. You were never meant to see such things," he said as he rocked her gently, one hand smoothing her hair, the other on her back. After a few minutes and some deep breaths and Hermione felt herself calming down. She lay there quietly in his arms until he pulled back. He reached out and cupped her face with his hand, rubbing his thumb along her cheek to catch the few remaining tears. Then as if burned, he quickly pulled away.

"Better now?"

She nodded her head, wiping her wet cheeks dry with the sleeve of her pajamas.

"Tea?" he asked. Again she nodded. He left the room, returning a few minutes later with two steaming mugs in hand. Handing her one, he sat on the edge of the bed facing her.

"So, do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing?" he asked, all evidence of the tenderness he had shown now gone. She avoided his question and his gaze by sipping her tea, her hands still shaking slightly. The warm liquid burned her throat causing her to cough and sputter.

"I added a calming draught," he remarked dryly watching her struggle for breath.

"It tastes like whiskey," she finally managed. He merely raised one eyebrow and sipped his own tea.

"You were thrashing about. I was trying to decide whether I should call for Madame Pomfrey or not," she said in answer to his question.

"By poking me with your wand?" The question was laced with sarcasm she chose to ignore by shrugging her shoulders.

"I hardly expected you to react by...like that," she searched for the right words. To tell the truth she wasn't exactly sure what had happened; she was still reeling from the effects of the spell—something the whiskey in her tea was doing little to remedy. He sat quietly, sipping his tea and mulling over her explanation.

"You interrupted a nightmare," he admitted finally. After seeing the images she had seen earlier Hermione wasn't surprised he was having nightmares. His life seemed one, it would only be natural for it to flow over into his dreams as well. They sipped their tea in silence a few moments more before he spoke again.

"I might apologize for attacking you except I realize now you've not only assaulted me twice before but stolen from me as well," he remarked sardonically.

"We're even then?" she asked timidly, suddenly self-conscious. He had looked into her mind and seen so many secrets.

"Hardly," he snorted. He moved forward, taking the now empty teacup from her and placing it on the side table. She lay back down and pulled the covers up to her chin. Hermione wished she wasn't too old for a teddy bear; she desperately needed something to cling to. Severus extinguished the lights and lay down next to her.

"Goodnight," she said quietly.

He merely grunted.

Closing her eyes, all the images she had seen in his mind came rushing back. Despite the 'calming draught' she started trembling all over again. She opened her eyes, but in the darkness of the room she felt sure she saw red slit eyes staring at her.

"You're shaking the bed," he accused her.

"I...I'm sorry," she stammered, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep, not now."

He didn't respond but merely re-lighted the candles and left the room. She felt terrible. This night had been miserable from the start, first with him being summoned, the waiting, his attack on her mind, and now the nightmares she was sure to have not only tonight but for weeks to come, she was sure. Severus returned this time with two vials of liquid.

"I should have taken this earlier, before we both needed it," he said, handing one to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Dreamless Sleep potion," he said, downing the amber liquid. She followed suit, grimacing at the foul flavor. She lay back down and he climbed back under the blankets, this time closer than ever before. Hesitantly and without a word, he nestled next to her, placing his arm protectively around her. She didn't say anything but was silently thankful for his presence. Perhaps it was the potion but Hermione rather thought it was him that drove away the demons in her head. She only hoped she did the same for him.