Ch 2

"Mad Hatter: Am I going mad?

Alice: Yes, you're mad, bonkers, off the top of your head...but...I'll tell you a secret.

All the best people are."

-Lewis Carrol

Severus POV

Hermione Granger was a nuisance.

That was the only word Severus could use to describe her. She was simply unneeded and her presence was a hindrance.

Normally he wouldn't have paid much attention to Miss Granger when she was a student. As head of Slytherin's house, it was his duty to give his students more attention and favouritism. Especially since the other houses tended to look down on Slytherins. And if he was being honest. He did it to get back at Minerva and Dumbledore. It was petty but he enjoyed it. He may verbally diminish the students from the other's houses but he never allowed his grading to be unfair or affected. Normally the students with the highest marks come from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The Gryffindors and Slytherins are both mixed with their grades. There are of course a few students who are just naturally bad at potions and never stood a chance. Like Longbottom. Normally the students sit quietly in his class with the occasional question, are generally well behaved and he never has to think of them again until the next time they are in his classroom. Of course there are those who resented him and those who feared him. Potter and Longbottom were the front runners for those categories. Granger was different.

She was constantly interrupting him with her incisive hand waving and questions. Then on top of that, she added more work for him by writing 10 pages over the required essay limits. She was also friends with Potter and couldn't keep their noses out of trouble. Every year they ended up in dangerous and life-threatening situations that could have easily been avoided if they did what they were told and confided in a teacher. The amount of headaches that she and her friends have caused him over the years were numerous. She also had a penchant for ending up in the hospital wing. She was undoubtedly the smartest student in the school. But that talent was wasted with Potter and Weasley. And it was limited to her books. She may have a good memory and possibly a good understanding of the material but her application was lacking. She could follow instructions but lacked creativity and intuition. And in the real world knowledge was useless unless you knew how to use it.

He never really thought about his students outside of the classroom, especially once they are no longer his student. But of course, Granger didn't apply to his normal rules.

His private lab was much different than the potions classroom. For one thing, no one knew it existed which meant privacy. Dumbledore had it installed years ago. It was meant for if the headmaster has any family but that purpose has long since been forgotten. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore used it for, probably to store all of his strange nick-nacks. Or possibly his endless sock collection. But other than that he had no practical use for the space adjacent to his bedroom. It was a gift from Dumbledore for his 10-year employment. He originally didn't want it. But when he entered the room for the first time and noticed the unusually dark stained wood, much different from the old man's usual colour tastes. And felt the rough grain on one of the tables. He couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. No one had ever been so thoughtful and pleasant to him before.

Dumbledore set the whole room perfectly for a potion's master. The room was small and cozy and there were no windows. The wood, cabinetry and walls were all stained in dark hues. One wall was filled head to toe with a chalkboard. The other was filled with cabinets, shelves and an unused desk filled with papers, notes and books. Potion ingredients filled the wall. There was simply no shortage of eyes of newts, armadillo bile and porcupine quills. One bookshelf contained his books, the other held his cauldrons, knives and mortars. One long table was placed in the middle of the floor near the south wall. And there was only one chair and one stool.

It was perfect and isolated. The problem with the potions classroom was that he was often disturbed. Mainly by students and during the summer the staff. But in this tiny hidden room, the world didn't even know he existed.

And that is why it was the perfect place for him and miss Granger to meet. As suggested by Dumbledore of course. He wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. But then again he didn't exactly have many options. It would be too dangerous for him to meet up with her. And it would be unwise for her to be seen roaming the halls of Hogwarts. Thankfully with the fireplace, there was no reason to be concerned. It said much about his personality that it bothered him more that she was in his lab than the fact that she had to pass through his bedroom to get here.

Severus never really had a home.

Well he had a house growing up. His childhood house with his parents. But no one in their right mind would call that a home. It wasn't very surprising what dark secrets lay behind those broken doors in that dark and depressing neighbourhood called Spinner's End. He endured abuse. And then when he turned 11 the opportunity for an escape arose. Everyone always said that Hogwarts could become your home if you let it.

However, for him, growing up at Hogwarts wasn't a good place either. Bullied by the other students, often attacked in the halls 4 against one a continually the subjects of pranks, humiliation and laughter.

But it was the lesser of two evils. It wasn't a good home but then again Severus never had a good home.

There was never really anywhere for him to go. Hence one of the bigger reasons as to why he joined the death eaters. He thought he could find a home. He was obviously mistaken. And so he turned traitor and joined the order. And despite none of them wanting him Dumbeldore did.

Dumbledore didn't really understand. He obviously knew that Hogwarts didn't have the same affect on him as it did for himself. And he was sympathetic. But he didn't understand his feelings of resentment. So he gave him a place within the castle that was just his. His own place to call home.

It wasn't perfect and was constrained to the four walls. But it was his.

He hated her for invading his home. The only place in the world that provided him with the space to have clarity has now been invaded by a student. He didn't like this interruption and having to make modifications to something so utterly perfect for her. The first change was providing more seating. Every time he passed that chair when he was alone he couldn't help but glare. The first time she made room for herself his eyes started to twitch.

Every time he walked into that room to escape she was just always there. Even when she physically wasn't present her presence remained and surrounded him. It was quite bothersome.

Even now, she wasn't doing much that others would classify as distracting but for him, everything she did was enough to draw his attention away. He could physically feel the vibrations when she shifted her leg out from under her. The way the scratching of her quill would penetrate his mind and thoughts like a gunshot. The room often smelt like smoke and embers. But lately, it has been tainted by her scent of honey and citrus. Just the sight of her in his lab was enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth. And it wasn't just the sight of her hair that he thought could easily strangle him if he ever got too close. He didn't know if he was drinking more because of the situation he was in or if she finally pushed him over the edge.

All she does is ask questions. Constantly. She just won't shut up. Sometimes he can barely get a word in, other times she waits for him to finish then hounds him with hundreds of questions. It was worse than when she was a student. At least then she would raise her hand and he could choose not to call upon her. But now it was as if their positions were reversed and he did not like the change.

She didn't seem to be relishing in this newfound authority she has over him. She never told him what to do or how to act like a spy. She left that up to him but after a meeting, she was the one making decisions. She was always confident and sure when she spoke to him in these settings. With their little amount of time, they couldn't dally with hesitance and awkwardness. They both seemed to have an understanding of that.

It still didn't make him feel better.

She was incredibly stubborn. When she asked him to look into a piece of information or look into a new project one of the other Death Eaters was working on, that he deemed irreverent, she was persistent that he do it regardless. Though he gleaned no pleasure in observing Dolores Umbridge he couldn't deny how useful the information was.

She could also be extremely neurotic. Whenever she got an idea she would run around the lab looking for who knows what even though she painstakingly places her quill, parchment and ink parallel to one another before they even began.

Overall she was just an insufferable know it all. She would cut him off and use a more elaborate word to summarize what he was saying. Just to show off that she knows what it means.

He didn't need her help. He didn't want her help. He works better alone in the safety and quietness of his lab. Her added presence set his teeth on edge. Even when she wasn't talking just the sound of her quill scribbling on parchment drove his teeth on edge.

Then on top of that, he had to be concerned about her. Something he was forced to do. He had to constantly worry about what would happen if she was caught and tortured by death eaters and she revealed information about him. He also had to worry about what would happen if she was ever caught by the order in the middle of a lie or sneaking back in. If they questioned her and ever found out the two of them were working together they would think she was a traitor. Since there is no way they would ever believe the truth about him. He didn't like this feeling. He already had to be worried about his own well being and on top of that, he was being forced to care about her. It wasn't his job to babysit her and yet here he was.

It made him angry and tested his temper and resolve. Understandably in his mind. But his patience could only hold out for so long before he snapped.

He wasn't even sure how it had come to this boiling point. Perhaps it was because he didn't like being forced into a corner and this situation. Maybe their personalities were always meant to combust. Or it could have been solely her fault for overstepping her bounds. It was her job to ask questions, however, in his mind it seemed like judgement. And she, knowing the truth about him, had no right to judge his actions. He has given everything to the cause.

They were discussing some new information he gathered regarding the comings and goings at the ministry. She viewed it as important and could have deadly effects. She insisted that this information be passed along to the order. But he reminded her that they were the last line of defence and only form of resistance to the death eaters. They couldn't be wasted on a pointless mission that could result in their death. They went back and forth. Both strongly believed that their belief was not necessarily superior, but a better option than the alternative.

She was starting to get fed up with the commentary and criticism. Her voice and tone had escalated to match his rising one. "Who would pass along this information to the order if I wasn't here?" She began to laugh haughtily as she asked, "You?" Severus' eyes narrowed. "And how exactly would you do that? By walking up to the front door and imperioing everyone to do as you say and then obliviating their memories."

"I am sure I could come up with something. Especially more inventive and undisruptive than your lies. In case you've forgotten your ability to lie has only gotten worse through the years. Or do you still expect me to believe that you were the one who went looking for the troll?"

"And yet you never knew I was the one who stole your ingredients from your private stores in my second year and brewed a batch of polyjuice potions in the girls' washroom. And yes you could do my job. And that would take up more of your time. But hey you have plenty to spare right?" She seemed to hesitate as she panted trying to catch her breath, barely realizing what she just revealed to the man.

But he didn't appear concerned in the slightest, Severus just wanted to know how far her ego extended. "No. Don't stop now. Keep going. Speak your mind," he drawled his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Fine," She crossed her arms over her chest as she became defensive. "You know what I think? I think that you want to be alone. You want to do this alone, not because you want to be some hero. But because you want to suffer. You enjoy this kind of stress. This pain. Because it is the only way that you know that you are alive." Her words began to make him see red. He couldn't tell if it was just the heat of the moment or the truth but her words struck a work with him.

He decided enough was enough. He got enough disdain and accusations from the other death eaters and the staff, he didn't need it from her. Especially when she acted as though she was so self-righteous. Deluding herself into thinking she was doing him such a favour. "You think I don't know you're only here because he sent you?" His voice came out as a hiss as he slammed his hands down on the table between them.

She ran her hands into her hair. Though it just made it stand up more as it coursed through with electricity. "He didn't send me or order me to be here of my own free will. God is it such a surprise or outside the realm of possibility that someone could actually give a damn about you."

"Merlin, don't you ever shut up." His face was tense as he gritted out his words.

"It's called sharing an opinion." She tried to say it with a cheery tone but with the loudness of her voice it came out as exasperation.

"Well, I never asked for it. No one ever did."

"Newsflash, it's not exactly as if I have ever done this before." Her eyes were beginning to become bloodshot. And her voice was less reserved and loud and more snappish. Her attempt to make him see eye to eye with her. Just made him angrier. He was reminded of her inexperience and how inadequate she was prepared to keep up with him,

.

"That's quite obvious. Otherwise, you might actually appear as if you know what you're doing." Granger's temper was flaring up just like her hair, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath every time he touched a nerve with her.

His eyes narrowed as he finally just snapped. Her presence had truly pushed him over the edge. "Merlin I knew I should have obliterated you."

"So what's stopping you?" She held out her arms in open invitation.

He noticed that she didn't have her wand in her hand. Nothing was stopping him from finally getting her out of his life. "Don't push me."

"And don't underestimate me," she snapped.

He flew around the table and moved towards her, his black cloak trailed behind him. "I don't need you. I don't need anyone's help."

"And that is why you are alone." There were still a few feet separating them but nothing was stopping the angry energy surrounding them from combining and creating an explosion. "God, are you so blinded by your own stubbornness to see how much you are hurting?"

"The only person who will end up hurt here is you," he hissed.

"Is that a threat?" She asked seriously.

His voice lowered slightly as he replied, "No it's a promise." He started to walk away before throwing over his shoulder, "Sometimes I really want to throw you off a cliff."

"Well, there is always the astronomy tower. It wouldn't be the first time now would it." He stopped immediately in his tracks. He could hear she was out of breath and no doubt starting to realize what she had just said.

His back tensed as she truly struck a nerve, Now it wasn't just anger that laced his voice but a certain coldness. "Get out. We're done here."

He didn't bother to see her reaction or to see if she would take his order and finally vacate his lab. Severus walked out on her. Slamming the door behind him before he did something he could possibly regret. He wouldn't have physically hurt her. Though the idea of hexing her was quite tempting if only to glue her mouth shut. No, he was more so afraid that the temptation to obliviate her would be high. And his reserve would give way to the temptation.

He stalked into his room. Half aware that his cloak was trailing behind him. Merlin, Severus thought, rubbed the crease in between his eyes. He could survive killing Dumbledore, acting as a loyal servant to the Dark Lord and being a traitor to the world. But Hermione Granger will surely be the death of me. He tried to hold back the desire to flip over his desk. It felt as though steam was radiating off of him. Though right now he would just have to settle for a bottle of whisky. She had no right to speak to him like that. He slammed open one of the drawers and rummaged through the contents of loose paper. The stings of the paper nicking his fingers didn't deter him from reaching the bottom. Once he had what he was searching for in his grapes he didn't bother looking for a glass. The burn consuming his throat was a relief contrast from the driedness of his yelling. He quickly consumed almost half the bottle. The amount he drank wouldn't get him drunk but it could turn the pounding in his head to a pleasant numbness,

"How is it going?" came the eerily cheerful voice from the portrait. He could feel the man's smug look penetrating through the back of his skull. Severus wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean off.

"How do you think?" Severus gave with a sneer. He began to pace back and forth in front of the portrait. Occasionally glaring at the man as he mumbled under his breath. "She is stubborn. Infuriating. And an insufferable know it all."

"I knew you two would work well together." Severus had to hold his tongue at that. He wasn't sure in what universe he and Hermione Granger would work well together. It's not as if she was his student for the past several years and ill-mannered and disrespectful despite her attempts to be a teacher's pet. For some reason, Dumbledore thought that the two of them would work well together. The man had clearly gone mad if it wasn't for the fact that he was dead. Most likey an indicator that he was already made before his death. But clearly, that aspect of his personality, the more eccentric part, had crossed over to his portrait. It was times like this that Severus wished he would break free from all of his chains and forge his own paths But unfortunately the last time he did that he ended up making the biggest mistake of his life and became a death eater. Despite the late headmaster's questionable decisions no one could deny the man was insightful and could write the future out in a straight line without any curves. The man wasn't a seer. Not like he believed in such an inaccurate branch of magic. But if he did Dumbledore would be one of them.

He sighed in exasperation. This was not how he wanted this evening to go. He tried to play nice. But clearly, it didn't go as planned. The man has never led him astray. And he didn't have much in this world except for the man's word. Despite the dark path he has been sent down he couldn't deny it has provided beneficial. Though he could see how he and Hermione Granger benefited the greater good. Realistically he should never have dragged her into this. It was his own fault. But practically it made no sense. He could understand the role which she provides. But she specifically made no sense. And once he got over his initial anger he realized that the old man probably had an ulterior motive for choosing Hermione Granger.

And after several months of thinking it over, he couldn't help but voice them, "And here I thought you just wanted someone to watch over me and hold me responsible. Make sure I continue to be your good pet and play by your rules." He knew that he meant to the man more than just a pawn. The time spent in each other's company over the last 16 years was proof of that. But when burdened under the mask of a death eater and reprising his role as a spy. He couldn't deny the fact that he was being used. He held no anger towards Dumbledore. It wasn't personal, just all a part of the job. That didn't mean he had to like it.

And on top of all that. The man had an act of pushing his nose into other people's business. Which he had no plan on stopping even in death. Something that Severus hoped he would be spared from. But no such luck.

"Perhaps I didn't want to leave you alone."

His back stiffened at this explanation. He slowly turned to face the wall with a grave expression on his face. It took him a moment to come out of his shock. Though his blood remained cold. And if he looked in a mirror undoubtedly his face would be paler than it already was.

"And what about her?" He whispered. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore would be so cruel. To place such a burden on her. To drag her into his mess. He knew after surviving the first war what effect this job had on him.

He had severe depression and PTSD. Unfortunately, the wizarding world does not have much knowledge when it comes to muggle psychology. And he couldn't exactly explain the cause of his trauma to any therapist. So he coped with alcohol and drugs. He was probably an addict at one point. Though he couldn't say for sure. And the days when he didn't block out the pain, he was left with a broken body and mind. No amount of occlumency could stave off the nightmares. Every night he woke up either in a cold sweat or with his throat hoarse from screaming. He wasn't necessarily suicidal but he rarely left his room to make an effort to live. He could barely stomach any food. It wasn't uncommon for his ribs to be on display. He was left on the floor of his rooms fighting with the demons and voices in his head. For years he couldn't look in a mirror without putting his fist through it. If he ever injured himself he never would receive medical assistance. If the broken glass pierced his skin or broke his hand he would simply watch as the blood dripped on the floor and crusted over. If one of his cauldrons exploded he would lay on the floor in a broken heap for hours before he picked himself up. He was already secluded and isolated and extremely independent before the first war. But after he grew angry and violent. It wasn't uncommon for him to go to a muggle bar just to get in a fight. Any person he came in contact with, especially those who were cheerful, was on the receiving end of his snappish demeanour. If it wasn't for the fact that Dumbledore predicted correctly that this war wasn't officially over and he would be needed once more. He would have given up a long time ago. The only thing that kept him going in the first two years was his duty as a teacher. Though he despised the job and the students. It had saved his life and helped him build a routine that he learned to be content with. He adapted, though not easy, it was doable. Eventually, his nightmares faded to once a week and instead insomnia took root. He was able to manage his drinking and completely eradicate his drug use. However, most pain-relieving potions no longer had an effect on him. He had built up a resistance long ago. He was able to eat without throwing up or collapsing from lack of energy. He wasn't exactly living a healthy lifestyle but it kept him going each day. The war had left an impression on him. While the rest of the war had moved on and forgotten their plight. He never could. Some scars were too deep to heal. And it was more than just the physical ones that marked his skin. If it wasn't for the fact that he had much experience with pain, disappointment, and anger beforehand. He may not have been able to cope. Though extremely toxic, cope nonetheless.

He didn't know much about her but it was quite obvious that Miss Granger was different from him. She came from a good household with loving parents. And had supportive friends. She was one of those individuals who expected good in the world, was hopeful, and was often cheerful with a smile on her face. Her love of books and pursuit of knowledge was well known throughout all corners of the school. That would all just fade away if the war didn't claim her first. "This will end up destroying her." Though, the unspoken words, I will remain in his mind. Her body may survive this war but he will end up breaking her mind. Not all knowledge is worth knowing. And the things he had to say were damning. She may have stood a chance of coming out the other side relatively intact but with him by her side. She was screwed. She never stood a chance. In a way, he almost felt sorry for her. Though that didn't really temp his anger towards her.

"You may be wrong," Dumbledore stated, interrupting his thoughts.

He couldn't help but avoid the man's blue eyes. "Perhaps. You better hope for her sake, I am."

Merlin, he didn't think that his emotions would be tested as they were. Though he should have known better by now. He has long since been accustomed to physical pain. But physical pain was easier to handle the mental or emotiona. He now had some time to think now Dumbledore had buggered off and he was left alone to his own devices.

He knew he was borderline emotionally unstable. His psyche could only handle so much before it bent into a shape that was irreversible to fix. Maybe he was born antisocial and an extreme introvert. Or maybe it was because he was deprived of positive social stimuli as a child. Or never had a positive influence. Perhaps it was just the years of trauma and pain that had transformed him into a cold, reclusive private individual. Though these attributes helped him greatly when he was spying. To be able to hide his emotions and control his reactions was of the utmost importance for efficiency and survival. They did not help him when he was thrown in with other human beings. He wasn't an expressive individual especially if it involved his emotions or others for that matter. He struggled with conversation and basic human connection. He was stubborn and strongly opinionated. And his patience often ran thin. And sometimes like today it was frustrating. To be able to convey himself only for it to appear as anger and dissatisfaction. He tried to remain neutral. To put aside his disinterest in order to work effectively with her. But like all things, it just blew up in his face.

He completely dismissed her opinion. Not necessarily because it was bad. He had merely had the same thought before and was able to dismiss it. He had moved on, however he neglected to inform her of this revelation. For her, it merely seemed as though he didn't care unless he was right. Which in this situation was not the case. His inability to confide and discuss in a mutually beneficial way often caused tempers to run high. It was his fault. If he didn't listen to her she wouldn't respond to him. Causing him to react. She wasn't the one to initiate the disputes between them. She often gave as good as she got. But it was a difficult situation. For this job, she couldn't be easily intimidated by him. She had to be able to interpret and deduce. And she often spoke freely to him. However, he would often try to intimidate her so that she would be more conscious and self-aware of what she says. As if she was still his student and he her teacher. He needed her honesty and intellect and yet wanted her to be timid and meek. He had unrealistic expectations. He knew that.

But she also didn't seem to understand his predicament. She came into this expecting him to comply and be completely honest and open. However, she didn't expect his resilience and his lack of desire for her help. His unwillingness to compromise since he has long since been doing this alone and never had reason to.

After a few hours, his anger had all but dissipated, with only some residual feelings of disdain remaining. And even that disappeared once he reentered his lab. He was not prepared for the sight in front of him.

A mass of brown curls was spilling over the edge of the table. A mass slumped over. Her head was lying on top of her arm. Her eyes were closed. He could see the stark contrast of her lashes against her skin. Despite her position, he could see how her breathing had evened out into a rhythmic pattern. She was sound asleep.

Why? That was the only thought that crossed his mind.

Why did she stay?