Chapter 6

That night, I changed for bed and climbed in. I was nearly asleep when Snape finally returned. He took in the fact that I was in bed, but I wasn't sure if he knew whether I was sleeping or not. He quietly slipped into the bathroom for a few minutes, then came over to the bed.

"I'm not asleep," I whispered into the darkness.

"You're telling me this for a reason, I presume," his rich, baritone voice said.

I rolled over onto my back. "You're moving around quietly in the dark, so I thought you were being respectful of the idea that I was sleeping. I, in turn, am being respectful of you by letting you know I'm still awake, and if you needed a light on for something it wouldn't bother me."

From what I could see and hear in the dark, his chest rose as if he was about to say something cold, then there was a heavy sigh. "Thank you, Ginny. I do appreciate what you're doing and what you have done," he said before sliding under the covers.

As he settled himself, I asked, "I'm wondering, sir, with the things you have let Him see, or will see, I thought the main image that he would be given was that I was a, pardon my language, a fuck toy, correct? So why are we creating these other images?"

He was quiet for a while, then finally he answered, "When I first requested you as my prize in order to protect you from Carrow, that was my intent for him to believe. But when he didn't see images of you in my mind, I needed a reason for not having touched you. The reason I came up with was I didn't want a fuck toy, but that I wanted you as a witch I would take as my wife. We both know I am not what a girl your age would be attracted to, so I explained I wanted you in my bed willingly. The only way to achieve that was to…"

"...have him think you were seducing me into falling in love with you," I finished.

"Exactly."

"Thank you Professor, both for telling me the reasons for what we are doing, and for not insisting that I'm a child. I'm still not sure I understand why it's so important to have you protect me."

I felt him shake his head. "You need to be protected for a number of reasons. Your family members are all in the Order, you're a Pureblood witch and you don't want to know what would happen if He wins, and you dated Potter. That alone makes you a tempting target; get to Potter by taking you. Potter rescued you once from Voldemort, so he would likely do it again."

"But why do you want to protect me?" I pushed him to answer.

He was silent for the longest moment. "Before; for the reasons I already gave. Now; you know too much. I have to protect you to protect myself."

I got what he was saying. "Thank you for telling me." We remained quiet for some time. I thought he fell asleep.

"How did you know?" his voice suddenly shot out in the dark.

"Even with Dumbledore's death, you didn't betray the Order," I explained.

I could feel him nod in acknowledgement..

"Harry said you mocked him for not using non-verbal spells," I continued, "You're known to be an accomplished dueler, so why would you give up an advantage by pointing out Harry's weakness to him?"

"Perhaps I find no glory in beating a child. Perhaps I'm the worst of the worst. Perhaps I knew what you were coming to offer that night. Perhaps I would have taken you without your permission, and by having you willingly offer it was so much sweeter."

"And perhaps you are far nobler than you let on and you're right now trying to make me hate you out of guilt."

"It's time to sleep," he stated, ending the conversation.

The morning of Christmas Eve, I finally left Snape's quarters for the first time since arriving. He felt the other staff should see me at the school as McGonagall would surely have heard or would hear from my family. When I entered the Great Hall, the house tables remained, but none of the Christmas decorations that had been there in years past were up. I made my way down to the middle of the Gryffindor table and sat down alone. I was nibbling on some toast and oatmeal when Professor McGonagall came over and took a seat beside me.

"Miss Weasley, where have you been? Your family has been worried sick."

"Sorry, ma'am. I sent a letter with Neville explaining things. I had something I had to help…" I glanced sideways, not saying a name, "with. I've been working on that."

"You are a child. You should be home for the holidays," McGonagall decided.

"I know, but if we lose, what would become of me? I'm one of the few Pureblood witches on this side of things. I won't sit back and allow others to handle my fate. I needed to do something."

"I could take you to your family tonight," she threatened quietly.

"Please don't! I'm being safe; I'm simply researching. I won't get in trouble for that. I can also say all my homework is done already. I only came out of where I've been hiding so that others would think they have just missed seeing me."

She set her jaw repeatedly. "Ginevra, I don't like this."

"What if I check in with you each day?" I offered.

She glanced up to the head table at Amycus Carrow. "No, he keeps asking about you. I don't want you to become predictable. Send Dobby. He's always loyal to your friend, so I'm sure that will carry over to you."

"I will."

"I'm going to chat with Carrow. Use this chance to return to where you have been hiding. And child, be careful! Your mother will have my head if anything happens to you!" She then rose and started for the head table, only to be stopped by Carrow.

I couldn't hear what was being said, but as I stepped out of the Hall, I heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by a collective gasp. I ran all the way back to the Headmaster's quarters. This was one of the moments where this war stopped being something you heard about and became real. I wasn't sure if the stern grandmother figure did the hitting I heard or if she was the victim, but it didn't matter. She was doing it for me.

This, of course, wasn't the first moment that things got real for me. There was the night Bill was attacked. There was the night George lost an ear. There was Bill's wedding and the attack on it, and countless other times since school started. But Professor McGonagall was like holy ground you don't touch! It was like pulling Merlin's beard.

I didn't stop until I got back to Snape's room. Thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen. I collapsed on the bed and cried. Many think I don't cry; I do, I just don't let others see me cry. Not since I was five and Ron called me a crybaby for being upset they wouldn't allow me to play Quidditch with them. Brothers can be jerks, real jerks!

Later, when Snape returned, he invited me into the office. "I always treat myself to hot chocolate and s'mores on Christmas Eve," he explained. "Would you care to join me?" he offered.

Chocolate after being upset sounded heavenly. "Thank you, Severus." I made the effort to use his given name.

Snape, always a perfectionist, perfectly toasted his marshmallows to an envious golden brown. He watched as my second one became a burning torch. "Like in Potions, you must be patient. It's like anything else; getting there is half the fun," he advised.

I put a third marshmallow on my stick and placed it in the fireplace. He shook his head. "Allow me to show you." he offered, getting up as the marshmallow burst into flames. He reached for his stick and placed another on it, then settled himself behind me, looking at the fire from my point of view. He handed me his stick and placed his hands over mine, guiding me as to where to place it. His chest was touching my back. "Here is your sweet spot." The marshmallow was above some orange coals. "Slowly turn it so one spot doesn't get too hot." His rich, baritone voice vibrated through my body and his hand was still on mine.

I stole a glance at him and realised that no, he wasn't a hottie, but in his own way, he wasn't unattractive. He just wasn't conventionally attractive.

He caught my gaze. "Keep your eyes on the task, Miss Weasley."

My eyes returned to the marshmallow. "Yes, sir."

Slowly, the marshmallow became as perfect at his. Thankfully that night, Severus stayed up late working on something. I was thankful because I woke up while it was still dark out from an erotic dream about him.