Chapter Two
"Who's there?!" the weatherbeaten figure growled.
Even as she approached him he threw paranoid glances over his shoulder. It occurred to her that whoever this figure was, he was badly beaten and bleeding more than was natrual. He had obviously been through a lot this night, she sighed wearily and placed a gentle hand beneath his hood.
"What do you think you are doing" he snarled.
Hermione flinched at the rough tone, one that was all too familiar to her. As the hood fell she found her hand lost in silky hair that she once thought oily. She found herself staring into the eyes that reminded her so much of her babe's. Eyes that had haunted her since she returned from her last night of service, eyes that looked haunted. How often had she dreamt of losing herself in those eyes as a child, how often she had dreamt of her Potions Master returning to his position at the school, which he had left almost a year ago.
"You are badly wounded Professor Snape, I should fetch Poppy."
He growled again and shook his head as she ran a finger over the gash above his cheek. Of all the teachers she could have run to, Snape would be the one to free her. He had been witness to . . . that night, he could pray on the Headmaster's pity. 'This is no time to be concerned with myself, he could be dying' she thought to herself angrily. She had to fetch the Headmaster at least, but he would not hear of this either.
"What house are you in?! Speak!"
"That is of no importance Professor! I must ask you stop frightening my child, she is upset by your constant snarling!"
Snape's eyes glanced around uselessly as he pushed past her and toward the stairwell that led to the dungeons. It was tempting, as he stumbled, landing twice on his knees against the stone, to let him go on his own merry way. But being Head Girl, and what was ultimately more, a Gryffindor, along with the memory of his one shred of kindess to her that night, she could not find it in her heart to make him suffer anymore than he already had. They were both bearers of a great load, and one cannot look at their counterpart without feeling the least bit mercy.
"Professor, wait! If you insist on going to your dungeons at least let me assist you."
Despite the scowl he gave she could feel the slightest pressure of him leaning on her. It must have taken much effort for him to keep his biting remarks inside, or the pain must have numbed his tongue. Either way she was almost glad for the silence. By the time they had reached his chambers the babe was once again asleep and she knew that soon she would have to go. 'But not without giving him some treatment. I'm not completely useless as a healer.'
"I do not know who you are, but you can leave me here. I will be fine in my dungeons. I hope you are not so naïve as to expect gratitude . . . you will not find any here."
She watched as an almost adorable smirk escaped his lips.
"Who's there?!" the weatherbeaten figure growled.
Even as she approached him he threw paranoid glances over his shoulder. It occurred to her that whoever this figure was, he was badly beaten and bleeding more than was natrual. He had obviously been through a lot this night, she sighed wearily and placed a gentle hand beneath his hood.
"What do you think you are doing" he snarled.
Hermione flinched at the rough tone, one that was all too familiar to her. As the hood fell she found her hand lost in silky hair that she once thought oily. She found herself staring into the eyes that reminded her so much of her babe's. Eyes that had haunted her since she returned from her last night of service, eyes that looked haunted. How often had she dreamt of losing herself in those eyes as a child, how often she had dreamt of her Potions Master returning to his position at the school, which he had left almost a year ago.
"You are badly wounded Professor Snape, I should fetch Poppy."
He growled again and shook his head as she ran a finger over the gash above his cheek. Of all the teachers she could have run to, Snape would be the one to free her. He had been witness to . . . that night, he could pray on the Headmaster's pity. 'This is no time to be concerned with myself, he could be dying' she thought to herself angrily. She had to fetch the Headmaster at least, but he would not hear of this either.
"What house are you in?! Speak!"
"That is of no importance Professor! I must ask you stop frightening my child, she is upset by your constant snarling!"
Snape's eyes glanced around uselessly as he pushed past her and toward the stairwell that led to the dungeons. It was tempting, as he stumbled, landing twice on his knees against the stone, to let him go on his own merry way. But being Head Girl, and what was ultimately more, a Gryffindor, along with the memory of his one shred of kindess to her that night, she could not find it in her heart to make him suffer anymore than he already had. They were both bearers of a great load, and one cannot look at their counterpart without feeling the least bit mercy.
"Professor, wait! If you insist on going to your dungeons at least let me assist you."
Despite the scowl he gave she could feel the slightest pressure of him leaning on her. It must have taken much effort for him to keep his biting remarks inside, or the pain must have numbed his tongue. Either way she was almost glad for the silence. By the time they had reached his chambers the babe was once again asleep and she knew that soon she would have to go. 'But not without giving him some treatment. I'm not completely useless as a healer.'
"I do not know who you are, but you can leave me here. I will be fine in my dungeons. I hope you are not so naïve as to expect gratitude . . . you will not find any here."
She watched as an almost adorable smirk escaped his lips.