Severus Snape landed heavily on his feet, stumbling slightly from his messy Apparition. He immediately pulled his off his silver mask, shrunk and pocketed it, wrenched the gates of Hogwarts open and dropped his Occlumency shields once he was within the protective wards. He then fell to his hands and knees and threw up, his body still twitching from the lingering effects of the Cruciatus curse and his head pounding from hours of the Dark Lord marching through his thoughts like they were foreign lands to conquer.
The Dark Lord.
A huge shudder wracked his body but he forced himself to get shakily to his feet; it wouldn't do to fall apart here.
He heard footsteps approaching him. They were too soft to be Dumbledore's. He stared at the floor. At this point he was far too shattered to even begin to know how he felt about anything, but especially about her. She'd been impossible to ignore for long.
And she'd waited for him.
He heard a flutter of wings and Fawkes landed gently on his shoulder, letting out a piercing cry that formed a warm pool in his stomach and seemed to resonate through every inch of his exhausted body. He finally found the strength to let go of the railings behind him and look the girl in the eye.
She looked about as bad as he felt.
"Are you hurt?" She asked him, her face concerned and her voice dry.
"Not badly." He answered, and it was almost the truth. He'd been tortured both physically and mentally but it hadn't been as bad as it could have been, as bad as he'd been expecting. Once the Dark Lord had decided that he was not loyal to Dumbledore, the torture had stopped and he'd gone barraging through his memories instead. It had been incredibly unpleasant but he was grateful it hadn't been worse and he'd been more than prepared for the onslaught. It appeared that his Master had vented his anger about Potter's escape on the Death Eaters that had already been present.
Her gaze went slowly over his body from head to toe as if she was trying to measure the accuracy of his answer. She nodded.
"Shall we go inside?"
He nodded and they began to make their way slowly towards the castle as Fawkes flew leisurely out of sight. Her steady, even footsteps next to his gave him strength that even a Phoenix would be proud of.
Then as they neared the entrance, a barb of hot, fiery agony shot straight through him and stole every breath from his lungs, he trod on the front of his robes and reached out in panic to stop himself from falling. He gritted his teeth against the pain, unwilling to scream more than he had already that night, as his left hand found something that he grabbed onto with all his remaining strength. He swayed, and so did what he was clinging to. His eyes screwed shut, he knew on some level that it was Miss Granger, but consciousness rapidly becomes distorted in the face of such acute discomfort. He became aware of something gripping him and falling, albeit rather slowly, to the ground. He kept his eyes shut and focused on trying to draw a breath.
"Professor Snape! Professor … please, please be ok. Should I get Madame Pomfrey? Or Dumbledore, would he be better? Please answer me sir … Please open your eyes."
She sounded frantic. She really was concerned for him. He'd known this, but it still came as an almighty surprise. As the pain began to recede he focused on tuning back in to the present and answering the girl. It wouldn't do for her to become hysterical twice in one day. Although it was probably tomorrow by now. Or something along those lines.
"I'm fine." He snapped, but was still too hurt to put much effort into it. "Just after effects from the Cruciartus."
She gasped. He opened his eyes; they were both sitting on the floor opposite one another. Her face was lined with worry.
"But… You said … you said you weren't hurt! The Cruciartus Curse! Madame Pomfrey -"
"I said I wasn't badly hurt you stupid girl. Surely the great and knowledgeable Miss Granger isn't naive enough to think that anyone could walk straight up to the Dark Lord after 13 years standing by Albus Dumbledore's side, and hours late, without some sort of punishment? And Madame Pomfrey can do nothing for me. Neither can you."
This was no time for her childish antics. Especially since he'd been the only one who could calm her last time. The Weasleys and Dumbledore had all tried to reason with her both before and after they'd realised that Potter had in fact been missing. He'd swept over, leant down to her ear and steadily told her to stop because he would find the boy and ensure his safety. She'd quietened instantly and he'd been unprepared for how powerful it would make him feel; she'd been out of control and he'd been able to calm her. Him. Despised Potions Master and Death Eater. She trusted him. He ruthlessly quashed the warm feeling that threatened to engulf his chest. She was a fool. An insufferable fool.
She handed him a glass of water and he almost rolled his eyes at her. Almost. He was actually very thirsty. Embarrassed, he snatched it from her hands and drank. Sometimes water felt like the most wonderful thing. When he was finished they sat in silence for a time and he noticed that their breathing slowly synchronised. How curious. He watched her eyelids begin to droop and it occurred to him that she must have been awake all this time too. He sighed. He knew he should send her away but the girl was beyond stubborn. He doubted even the Dark Lord would be able to wrench her away from someone she thought needed her help. The image of his Master attempting to prise Granger's fingers off of his when he'd been Summoned rose unbidden in his mind's eye and he felt his lips twitch ever so slightly, despite all that had happened. In honesty the feel of her hand, warm around his had been all that had kept him from falling into a full blown panic attack, especially when Potter had appeared lying motionless by the maze. Actually she'd gripped his arm so hard at that point that her fingernails had left imprints around his Mark. But it marginally improved the ugly thing's appearance somehow. Maybe it was just because she'd done the absolute polar opposite to the recoil he was accustomed to if ever it was seen. She was undoubtedly a strange one.
He slowly got to his feet but the girl jumped up and tried to assist him. He brushed her off immediately and they slowly made their way inside. Severus knew it was probably pointless to try and send her away, but he thought he'd better try anyway.
"Go to bed Miss Granger." It sounded weak to his own ears.
She met his gaze impassively and then started to head towards the dungeons. He sighed and followed her, leaning on the wall from time to time to rest. It was obvious the girl was itching to help him but he was glad she kept her distance, even if she did hover incessantly by his side. He hated being touched and with good reason. Sometimes it wasn't too bad, but most of the time he despised it unless it was he who was in complete control. In his experience, touch was used to manipulate and to hurt and as such, it made him extremely uncomfortable. There were certain areas on his body that he actually feared to be touched. He had his reasons. In honesty he'd thought the Dark Mark was one of these but he'd felt nothing but shock and a strange kind of gratitude when Granger had grabbed onto it. Not that she'd realised what she was doing of course, but then that in itself had been almost pleasant; she wasn't so reviled by the thing that it was ingrained in her consciousness to avoid it.
Then there was the time she'd taken his hand in his own office; it had taken him a second to figure out what he was feeling through the pain, the treatment he'd given her had greatly altered what a hand should feel like. Then when he'd realised, he'd felt two things, the first was anger that she dared to touch him but the second had been far worse. He'd wanted to grab onto her hand and hold on for dear life because when the Mark had burned that time, it had been so strong and so fierce he'd thought for a second that it had been a real Summons and he'd been so filled with absolute, spine chilling horror he'd felt almost desperate for another human, any other human, to be afraid with him, and for him and Granger had been shaping up to be the most likely candidate. Then of course he'd pulled away and done his best to ignore the little brat, partly for her own sake and partly because his own reaction had scared the life out of him.
He pulled his mind firmly back to the present. They'd reached his office door which he opened, then paused. He really shouldn't let the girl in. It wasn't appropriate.
"I'm not leaving." She snapped.
Bloody Gryffindors.
He walked into his lounge and sunk into his favourite armchair.
"Shouldn't you get to bed sir?"
Insufferable girl.
"Not with you here." He snapped.
Hah. Let her muddle that one out.
She sighed and slumped into the other armchair looking exhausted and totally defeated.
"Please can I stay?" She whispered.
Well that was confusing. Did she actually want to stay? He'd assumed it was just because of some sort of misplaced pity or sense of duty. Since he'd informed her that he wouldn't sleep until she left, that should have given her a guilt-free pass to leave him alone. Why hadn't she jumped at such an opportunity? He looked back over at her. The blasted girl was asleep. She'd allowed herself to be in the most vulnerable state possible in the same room as someone she knew had just come back from re-establishing himself with the Darkest wizard of the age. That made her incredibly foolish and unworthy of the brains she was gifted with if she was so reckless with her own safety. Stupid bloody Gryffindor.
He conjured a blanket and placed it over her, smirking slightly as he realised this must have been the very thing she did for him a year ago. He made his way softly over to his bedroom, threw his outer robes onto a chair, pulled off his shoes and socks and then fell into bed, throwing the covers over himself and slipping into an exhausted sleep almost immediately.
As he slept his unconscious mind forced him to relive the reunion with his Master once again, this time without the benefit of employing Occlumency. He woke a few hours later to the sound of his own voice shouting and he was drenched in sweat. The next few things all happened rather quickly; the door flew open and Granger came running in, he cast a quick cleansing charm over himself and the sheets and he realised that everything he'd dreamed had actually happened.
The Dark Lord was back.
He'd been Summoned.
He'd returned to the Dark Lord.
He'd been tortured.
He'd been interrogated.
He'd returned to Hogwarts.
And that was going to be his life for the foreseeable future.
Until they won the war or until he died.
And it was bound to get worse; he'd have to take part in certain activities to maintain his cover.
And he was sure to warrant more severe punishments at some point.
His life was to become a web of lies, distrust, Darkness and pain.
And before he knew what was happening he was shaking all over. Right in front of bloody fucking Granger.
He quickly turned his back to her and threw himself as far away as possible without falling off the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulled his legs to his chest under the covers and prayed that for once she'd just leave him be.
He heard her settle on the opposite edge of his bed. NO.
"Granger…" He tried to warn her off but with his body betraying him the way it was and dread and despair flowing through his body it sounded more like a plea.
"Go." Another plea.
This was what he'd been reduced to; pleading with a 15 year old girl.
She didn't leave. And he couldn't deny that the quiet was nice, her steady breathing gave him a goal to try and match his own to. He could almost feel her weight on the mattress. He was tired and terrified and trembling like a pitiful infant but he wasn't alone.
And then she moved.
And her side was against his back and her hand was on the top of his arm.
She was so warm. Did she have a fever?
He kept his eyes tight shut.
Now this was inappropriate. He had to send her away.
But he couldn't.
She cared about him, however slightly. And she was there. And she was warm. And he couldn't pull away from her, or push her away because he was weak and afraid and lonely. And she was trying to comfort him. He wasn't sure he could even recall the last person that had bothered to do so. He was still shaking but he allowed himself to now, allowed himself to truly feel everything he'd been repressing. He knew he'd have to at some point and now seemed as good a time as any.
"What does he look like?" her soft voice pierced the air.
He didn't want to talk about this.
"Tall. Pale. Skeletal." he answered, concentrating on keeping his voice steady. "Red eyes."
He couldn't say anymore. That would have to do. A shudder rippled over him.
She squeezed his arm.
"Sorry." she whispered.
Whether she was apologising for asking or for what he'd been through he wasn't sure. But oddly he found he didn't much care.
Slowly he calmed, mind and body and she stayed with him. She didn't speak again. When she wasn't talking at him he could just listen to her breathing and pretend that she was … someone else. But he did have to admit, although he would only do so in his own mind, that Granger was better than no one. As he gradually relaxed she started to rub her thumb over his shoulder. The movement was tiny but it seemed to burn through his clothes. He opened his eyes a fraction to glance at her face. She was staring absently at the wall by the headboard, her lip caught between her teeth. Was she even aware of what she was doing? He opened his mouth to say something but then stopped. It wasn't wholly unpleasant.
He shut his eyes and gradually drifted into a much more restful sleep.
She was gone when he woke and that was a good thing. Sometimes what could be gotten away with in the early hours of the morning was strictly unacceptable in the light of day. He felt the hot prickle of humiliation creep over his chest and shoulders but quickly tried to shake it off. There was no point to it and it didn't feel as bad as this time last year anyway. He chose not to analyse why that was. Severus sighed. He needed to shower, eat and then see the Headmaster. He had no time to worry about Granger now; there was work to be done.
Right, sorry this chapter took longer to write than I thought it would, but here it is :)
Hermione got away with snapping at Snape! Shocking.
Anyway, the next chapter/chapters will be a little easier on the Snermione action, they're both gonna need a bit of space and Snape in particular is going to have a pretty busy summer - just a lil warning ;)
I also may deviate from canon ever so slightly in a few places in future but it's not going to be anything that will overly change what happened in the books. Plus I know it wasn't exactly a year since the last time Hermione ending up sleeping in Snape's armchair but I figured it was close enough.
Thanks for reading
x