The first few days were incredibly hard, not only physically but mentally. Having to care for a once vivacious and bright young woman who now could not even turn herself over in bed was taxing on both his body and his mind. There wasn't much that bothered nor affected him in life, but this gnawed at his psyche tenfold.

It was unjust what had befallen her all at the hands of Fenrir and his blood boiled. He would make a mental note to get vengeance for those who could not avenge themselves. Every dog had its day and Fenrir's would come around sooner rather than later.

Minerva had offered to help him care for the girl, but he declined, it was too much for Hermione to take in knowing Minerva was here, and he wouldn't have been able to contain Minerva and her wrath once she caught a first glimpse of the girl-she would kill the werewolf herself with her bare hands, hell hath no fury like a Scottish woman getting revenge.

He was in quite the routine with her now and it was slowly becoming easier with every day that ticked glacially past. He would wake her, feed her breakfast, take her to the bathroom, which was not the most dignified thing for a young woman to have a man that spent years teaching her, carrying her to the lavatory, but it was what it was.

After that, he would sponge bath her, dress her in fresh clothes, and put her back to bed. She liked the curtain open, so the sunlight shone through, and she would bask in the golden glow for an hour or two as he pottered about the house preparing a meal here or brewing a potion there.

After that, he would slowly feed her a small lunch and he would sit with her reading because it broke up the somewhat awkward silence they would otherwise sit in.

Hermione would watch the man intently as he read, her heart almost swelling with happiness as he did so. His reading to her was a little light in such dark times, and she was thankful he was taking time out of his day to do so. Her eyes would light up as he reached for the book he would place on her bedside table after he slid a bookmark in and placed it beside her, and she only wished she had the energy to pick the book up and read it herself. Not long-she hoped.

Her appetite was growing with every day that sailed by, and she was tolerating more broth than each day previously. She felt as if she had a little more energy now, and she narrowed that down to both the food and the potions he was administering.

She was thankful for what the man was doing, and she relaxed around him however, she still couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension from within her. Why was a man that once taunted her and showed nary an interest, now caring for her around the clock? It was interesting. But for the moment she was thankful that he was showing niceties towards her, a stark change from the way she was treated, not all that long ago kept as little more than property down in the Malfoy dungeon.

He noticed a lull in her head and the soft rise and fall of her chest. Snapping the book shut, he slid it gently upon the bedside table and stood. While she was sleeping, he would prepare dinner for her, so it was ready when she woke.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He held the time turner up to the light of the kitchen window and gazed at it as if trying to work out and unlock the secrets within. It didn't look any different to any of the time turners he had ever laid eyes upon, so he was unsure of the powers that lay within. Perhaps the person who gave it to him was being facetious and wanted him to look the fool very much, but that made little sense. They couldn't have known what they knew without inside information and prior knowledge.

"How is she doing?" the thick Scottish brogue of Minerva caused his head to snap to the left while simultaneously pocketing the trinket he was just admiring.

"She's better." He shrugged slightly, looking forlornly out the kitchen window. "As good as we can expect her to be in this situation. She is not bouncing off the walls. She can hardly sit up but the flame in her eyes has ignited somewhat."

"I wish you would let me at him, Severus," the elder witch snapped bitterly, folding her arms tightly across her chest with a disdain etched into her features.

"And what, get yourself killed? I didn't save you from that auction house so you could get yourself killed, Minerva," he warned sternly. "Those girls, those three girls, they need you. Ginny and Luna may look fine on the outside but-"

"-Beneath the surface, they are fragile children, moments away from breaking down hopelessly. I know." Minerva added her two sickles worth to the conversation. "Those two girls act as if they are ten-foot-tall and bullet-proof on the exterior, but they are hurting inside, Severus. Truly hurting. They miss their families. Their freedom taken trapped in these walls day in and day out."

Severus slammed his hands down hard on the bench, causing the elder witch to jump back a step in panic.

"I'm doing the best I can, Minerva. I can't let them out into society, and you know the safest place for them is in this house. It is a delicate situation I understand, but they will have to make do with what they have. I think being safe in this house is a decent trade-off for being cold and dead in a grave, and even then they probably wouldn't bother with the niceties of putting them in a grave." Wiping a hand across his brow, he turned to face her, noting the flared nostrils and startled look in her eye.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," he dropped his voice a few octaves and softened his facial expressions. "I'm under a lot of stress right now with Hermione here and healing her so she is strong enough to help me."

"You really think she is the solution to all of our problems?" Her voice lowering to almost a whisper, eyes darting around the room, ensuring listening ears weren't prying into their conversation.

"I don't know." His broad shoulders drew up in a shrug. "I've got no other options but to cling to the small shred of hope that in the grand scheme of things, she will be the light in our darkest time."

A shrill scream echoed harshly down the empty hall, amplifying the sound tenfold. Severus quick as lightning took off to Hermione's room, skidding sideways through the door, his wand at the ready should he need to make use of it. Minerva, also hot on his heels, had her wand ready to go should the need arise.

The girl was thrashing wildly in the bed, bedsheets tangled like binds around her causing the thrashing to intensify, eyes tightly shut she was sobbing, deep, low sobs.

Severus grabbed her gently, wrapping her arms around her bony body to calm her. She was strong, stronger than a girl of her lithe frame should be.

"Leave me alone!" She screamed, her voice piercing his eardrums. "Get off me. Get off me. Please. Please don't do this."

She tried to shove Severus off, but he was holding her tighter this time around, ready for her. Her heart beating so rapidly against his own body, he was certain it wouldn't be long before she would go into cardiac arrest. He was certain he gave her a dreamless sleep potion, but it was possible her intense terror had broken through them.

"Hermione," he cooed softly, almost as if he were cradling a child in his arms. Gently stroking her feverish, damp forehead, she slowed her thrashing somewhat. "You're ok. You're fine," he hummed almost melodically.

She almost instantly went limp against him. Sitting awkwardly on the bed with the girl cradled tightly in his arms, he had no intentions of moving right now. He would sit here with her as long as she needed.

Minerva, still standing in the doorway, watched on. "Well. At least you know she can still talk." her bitter words left lingering as she had to turn on her heel and leave the room. She couldn't stand the sight of the girl's skeletal body, the sunken cheeks, and the sallow skin. She needed to leave before she threw up and broke down into tears at the sight. Severus was a lot stronger than she was, or perhaps he wasn't attached to the girl as she was.