A/N: Hello, hello to all my lovely readers! Thank you for your great response to chapter eight, which is the shortest chapter yet but has prompted the most attention to my story so far in a single week.

Now, today I present to you chapter nine, which contains well over 9'000 words. I know that I could have cut that in half and make two chapters out of it, but I didn't, because the content did not really allow for a sensible division, and also, I didn't want you to have to wait for the second half.

However, I have bad news for you. My life is quite stressful right now, what with a big project at work and a huge paper due for university. Thus, I am left with little temporal and mental capacities during my free time. I have tried finding the time to contribute to this story, so that I could keep up the regular updates, but honestly, it is stressing me out. And one thing I couldn't stand is for this story, which I love writing, to become nothing better than a chore to me.

This left me with two possible ways to go. The first: shorten the chapters. The second: cut back on the updates.

I chose neither.

Shortening the chapters doesn't appeal to me as I don't see myself able to fit the content that I want to convey in one chapter in less words. Cutting back on the updates isn't the way to go for me, either, as I love holding myself to a set schedule, and I like you knowing that you can count on another chapter the following Monday.

Seeing as neither of those possibilities suited me, I had to make a decision that has not come easily to me.

So it is with great regret that I inform you now that I will put 'Accommodations' on hiatus for the next ten weeks.

I will not abandon writing this story during that hiatus, and I will always answer any PM concerning this work. But I do not plan on publishing any new chapters until the mid of October. It is my hope that these weeks will take the pressure out of writing, and will allow me to have my creativity flow freely. I both hope to work on 'Accommodations' during that time now and then, so that I will have enough material to get you through the rest of the year, which will bring new stress for me all of its own, but also to maybe write some song fics that I've had in mind for quite some time but never had the opportunity to work on.

I truly regret not being able to provide you with any new chapters until October. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and to come back to 'Accommodations' when I continue my updates.

I sincerely thank you all for accompanying me on this story's journey so far, and hope to have you all at my side when we continue following Severus and Hermione's path.

Big hugs to all of you,

Marcella

PS: Heartfelt congratulations to viola1701e who successfully won the little competition I set - yes, I was vacationing in Estonia. Big thank you to viola1701e for being such a great reviewer and for reading my writing so intensely that she was able to make the perfect guess. I'm looking forward to fulfilling her wish for a line. Thanks also to all others who participated. :)

Sunday, September 15th, 1995

Severus looked down on the rough draft for his private tutelage of the girl, checking the notes he had scribbled down, for it was little more than that so far, even though he had poured over it all Friday afternoon and most of Saturday as well.

He nodded at his decision to start the girl's lessons with an intense study in Occlumency. Loathe as he was to admit it out loud, Severus knew very well that the girl's mind was far advanced in comparison to those of her yearmates. Not only was she academically superior, as she proved time and time again, no; she was mentally mature in a way few people even ten years her senior were. As such, her mind needed to be protected, as it held not only facts, but also a deep understanding of all the information she possessed on the Order, little though that was.

A close second to her need for Occlumency skills was the issue of improving her tolerance for pain. Severus would need to test how much pain the girl could endure, and then push those boundaries as far as he could. In fact, it mattered little how long she could resist the pain, as there would always be more, but it would be important that she could hold her mental shields even while under physical torture for as long as possible.

Severus had also decided to pay little to no attention to teaching her in psychological torture. Coaching her Occlumency skills and pushing her tolerance level for pain would be far more valuable, and very time consuming at that. Also, the girl had withstood four years with him as a teacher, and in all that time had only cracked once – and even Severus had to admit that the unfortunate incident with the rapid growth of her teeth had not been one of his brighter moments, though it had been unavoidable. What had he been to do, defend a Gryffindor who repeatedly outshone his Slytherins, in front of the most influential student of his House? Surely not.

As it was, Severus was quite certain that her psychological stability must be quite high, as she had spent four years with those dunderheads she still insisted to call her friends, and had lived through heaps of mockery from students from all Houses, even her own. Add that to all the lies (or were they?) Skeeter had printed about her only months prior, and it became apparent that the girl was able to shrug off more psychological pressure than one might expect of a teenage girl her age.

That left only one issue he continued to skirt around – if Severus was somebody to do any skirting around issues, which he wasn't. No, he was simply postponing the topic for a later point of time, when he would feel he had done justice to those two aspects that were of the utmost importance for now. Then, and only then, when the girl was able to hold her mental shields while under significant amounts of pain, then he would progress to sexual torture.

Call it what it is, some inner voice chimed up. Rape.

Severus shuddered inwardly, unwillingly. How did one prepare a teenage girl for the horrors of rape? How could she expect him to instruct her how to withstand sexual torture? Or didn't she expect him to teach her that at all? Was she in over her head as well, and unwilling to admit it yet? Or was she actually willing to learn, willing to cross boundaries that should never be crossed, to help the Light?

There was simply no way Severus could imagine teaching the girl. Not that. Yes, he had enjoyed spanking her (for where could he allow himself to admit to that, other than in the darkest recesses of his mind?), but that did not mean he would force himself on her, only to prepare her for having Death Eaters force themselves on her as well.

Other Death Eaters, that is, lest he forget he still was or at least acted as one himself.

No, there was no way in hell Severus would destroy that one thing that young girls should perceive as magical for the girl, even if it meant she wouldn't have it destroyed in a far worse way later on. For destroyed it would be, if ever she should be caught; Severus had no doubt about that.

But were there levels of destruction?

Wasn't destroyed by one the same as destroyed by the other?

He did not know.

What he could do, however, he thought, was make the girl aware of her body, and of her body's impression on men. And where better to do so than in a school filled with teenage boys?

As he sat down to dinner that night, he saw her come in with Potter and Weasley in tow. It seemed that they had managed to bury the hatchet some time after he had left the Great Hall at lunch two days prior. While the two boys tugged into their meals at once, spraying half-chewed crumbles over half the table as they regaled the girl with tales of their Quidditch prowess, no doubt, she sat perfectly still, baring movements of her silverware over a simple dinner of vegetables. It appeared she had at least started reading the journals he had recommended, and took care to ingest light meals only prior to expected attacks on her mind.

After a few minutes of – no, not watching the girl, but repeatedly scanning the Great Hall, as was his task during meals as a professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus discerned that the girl was not, in fact, sitting perfectly still. No; the wild bush she called her hair was moving slightly. Satisfied, Severus concluded that she was practicing her relaxation techniques. She would be needing those later, he knew, if they were to assist her in the steep learning curve he expected her to climb during their private lessons.

Monday, September 16th, 1995

This Monday morning, Hermione woke more relaxed than she was used to, having cut short her study session the night prior in favour of sleeping the full eight hours Professor Snape had so strictly instructed. She joined the boys for breakfast as usual and merely shrugged at Harry's raised eyebrow when he saw her generously heaping eggs and bacon onto her plate, rather than her usual buttered toast and fruit. Hermione was intent on following her professor's instructions to the letter, even if they went against her habits.

History of Magic found her furiously studying, though the book opened in front of her had nothing to do with the Goblin Wars. Instead, it contained information on the development of Mind Magic over the centuries – it was one of the books Professor Snape had recommended she read. As she had lounged the Saturday away in favour of restoring her friendship with the boys, rather than prepare for her private tuition as she was supposed to, her weekend had fallen short a day, and Sunday had simply not held enough hours for her to go through all the texts Professor Snape had set her. Wistfully she thought back to her Time Turner in third year, but thought better on it. Not only had it helped add to all the stress she had had that year by giving her more time to linger on it; it also wouldn't do for her to ponder too much on the memory of turning time, lest a skilled Legilimens with a personal vendetta against the innocent ex-convict she had secretly helped escape stumble upon those thoughts.

So, before she could linger on those fateful events well over a year past, Hermione returned to the book in front of her. Professor Binns would never notice her absence of attention, and if Harry and Ron were to notice anything, it would only be the distinct lack of her quill scribbling away detailed notes of the lessons. She could get those just as easily by hitting the library books later, or rather more easily even, as it wouldn't involve the enormous effort it took her in Professor Binns's lessons to stay awake. And she didn't need to worry about the boys noticing anything, either, if Ron's slight snoring and Harry's gaze that was fixed on the whiteness of the walls without real focus were any indication.

When the lesson ended – 'Finally,' the boys said, though for Hermione it was far too soon – the trio made their way down the dungeons. Her head still stuck in the book, Hermione listened to the boys chatter with half an ear, if only to stay on the right track as she trailed behind them, trying to cram as much information into her head as possible.

They took their seats in the usual places; Harry and Ron sitting together as Hermione sat down next to Neville. After Professor Snape had made his entrance, ignoring her completely as per their silent agreement, she trusted Neville enough to not put her into mortal danger by mucking up the potion they were supposed to work on in pairs. So it was that she went through her exercises of muscle relaxation while muttering instructions to Neville who was too surprised that she would let him even touch their cauldron, much less actually brew by himself, to comment on her activities.

When the assigned concoction had to stew for fifteen minutes while one of them needed to stir slowly and steadily, Hermione left that task to her partner while she went on to school her breathing, jumping to techniques described in chapter five of her manual. Closing her eyes and breathing in slowly, she relaxed her ears and forehead until she was certain she spent no muscle activity on her face. Only then did she exhale equally slowly, emptying her lungs of all air. When she felt there was nothing left in her body, she remained in that state, focussing her mind on the pleasant inexistence that was now her air supply, letting the mental image of blankness turn into one of blackness, until she had drawn up an image in her mind of a black so dark it appeared to absorb all colour from her happy memories.

Trying to keep that blackness in mind, Hermione inhaled once more, taking immense care to fill her lungs as slowly as she could, forcing herself to a creeping pace even as her body screamed for oxygen. Keeping her eyes firmly closed, she repeated the exercise.

Severus almost didn't believe his eyes. When the girl had abstained from practically helping Longbottom next to her, instead choosing to merely instruct him, he had let that slide, leaving it to her judgement how much of the pain that the boy was certain to cause her she could stand. When she actually closed her eyes and left him fully without her attention, however, he fumed.

Was she trying to get herself killed?

There was no other explanation, the girl had to have a death wish. Severus could see that she had progressed to breathing exercises, rather than lingering on the relaxation techniques she had practiced before. With the relaxation, she at least could keep an eye on Longbottom and a thread of thought on the potion's recipe. Those breathing exercises, however, demanded one's complete attention, both physically and mentally. Thus, her closed eyes and closed mind – for that was the exact purpose of that exercise, to learn how to close one's mind against one's own thoughts – kept her from seeing the danger the dunderheaded boy was slowly, but certainly stirring them into.

Yes, stirring, not steering, because stirring was exactly what he was doing. Not in the way instructed, though – four times clockwise, twice anti-clockwise, pause, once anti-clockwise, and repeat in a steady four-four time – no, he insisted on drawing out the pause to two beats instead of one, stirring in a swinging six-eight time (or rather nine-eight time, as it was), making the one stir anti-clockwise into some up-beat that it was never supposed to be. Unschooled and naïve as he was, the boy certainly thought no ill of his mistake, if he noticed it as such at all, but Severus knew better.

Severus knew that if the girl inhaled just one more time, right now…

And as her lungs filled to the bursting with the sickly yellow fumes the cauldron in front of her emitted, the girl fell off her chair.

Severus was by her side in less than the blink of an eye. With no little satisfaction did he notice that the time it took him to cross the whole room did not suffice for her so-called friends to even shake off their shock and jump to their feet.

When her eyes blearily blinked open, her concentration forced from her by the heavy blow her fall had bestowed on her head, Severus relaxed only slightly, and certainly only inwardly.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he bellowed, "for being inattentive in class and neglecting the dangerous potion in front of you, causing and resulting in the injury of a student."

From behind him, Severus could hear his Slytherins snicker gleefully, and it took little imagination to clearly paint the image of Draco Malfoy's malicious smirk in his mind. Potter and Weasley puffed up to the maximum.

"But she is the injured student," Weasley protested. "How can you –"

"Exactly, Mister Weasley," Severus interrupted the teenager's rant with as vicious a sneer as he could command. "All the more reason for your residence know-it-all to pay attention, and yet even that proved obviously too much for her."

"Shouldn't we at least send her to the hospital wing, Professor?" Gryffindor's Patil twin offered, her concern for the girl clearly audible behind her politeness.

"I am certain, Miss Patil," Severus replied, "that when Miss Granger calculated the risk her inattention would bring with, and found it too little to actually tend to her potion, she fully knew what possible injuries that inattention would cause. As it is, I must assume that she found them innocuous enough that, should she suffer them, she would still be able to attend the rest of her classes."

The Indian student's mouth fell open, incredulity painted on her face.

"That is to say, Miss Patil," Severus pressed on, "that no, I will not send Miss Granger to the hospital wing. If she needs to see Madam Pomfrey, she will need to make her way up there on her own, and only after I have dismissed this class."

Raising himself up tall – and just when had he stooped in, as to better oversee the girl, and why had he not abandoned that pose when he reprimanded her classmates? – Severus went back to towering over his students. Seeing that their focus was all on the girl on the floor in front of him, who now crawled up into her chair once more (and wasn't he satisfied to see that none of her friends offered her a hand, afraid of his rebuke?), he called them to attention.

"I see none of you feel the need to attend to their potions anymore," he scowled, watching them scurry back to their cauldrons. "In that case, you will turn in your concoctions now."

Stalking back to the front of the class, he turned around only when he was at his desk.

"Right this instant, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom," he bellowed when he saw that they were now fussing over the girl. "Let us see what grade you brewed up for Little Miss Perfect, Longbottom, shan't we?"

Hermione did, indeed, benefit from a visit to the hospital wing, as it turned out. After having handed in their concoction with furious glowers on their faces, Harry and Ron took it upon themselves to escort her to Madam Pomfrey, much to Hermione's protestations that she was fine, which fell on deaf ears as she continuously stumbled. Neville's profuse apologies accompanied them much of the way until they couldn't be heard anymore after they had turned a corner on top of the stairs that led away from the Entrance Hall.

They caught many curious looks as most students were going the other way, towards lunch in the Great Hall. Even more curious were the looks they got from those who knew that they had had Potions just now, and were wondering how Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire and known teacher's pet (though never Professor Snape's, as everyone knew very well), had gotten hurt in a subject that should never pose a problem for her.

Harry and Ron pushed through them, and even though Hermione could hear their stomachs rumbling and growling loudly, they never complained that her injury caused them to miss lunch. She was touched. When they reached the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey simply asked for what potion they had been supposed to brew, and upon hearing who it was that had partnered with Hermione, she buzzed off, only to return mere moments later with a draught that, if inhaled properly, would bind the residual fumes in her lungs and eject them when she exhaled.

The matron sent the boys off to lunch, who took a last long look at her, making sure she was alright, and dashed off at her encouraging nod. Then, she had Hermione sit on one of the cots, and bend over a steaming cauldron of water infused with the healing draught, and had her inhale the steam for a good five minutes. Then, she had the elves bring a couple of sandwiches, made sure Hermione ate them, and afterwards checked her over for any lingering symptoms. Ascertaining that she was fine, Madam Pomfrey sent her on her way.

Ancient Runes found Hermione pouring over her Occlumency books once more, after having finished the assignment for the lesson ahead of everyone else, of course. When the professor found that she had brought her own material for further studies – as she perceived the books to be written in Nordic runes, just like everyone else, thanks to Professor Dumbledore – she had Hermione continue her work, and sighed in relief at not having to provide any bonus assignments for her top student.

Hermione was quite certain to have gained as intense a grasp on the books Professor Snape had recommended as she was about to get with no more study time on her hands. As he had forbidden her to study during Mondays outside of class, there was no way for Hermione to get any more information into her head. Little though the Ministry toad did in her lessons, and despite Hermione having proven that she had read through all their assigned book and had indeed understood the contents, Hermione knew that she would never get away with doing extra-curricular work in Umbridge's class.

She met up with the boys in front of the DADA classroom. They, still sleepy from just having suffered through a particularly boring lesson of Divination, asked her repeatedly if she was okay, just like Neville did when he joined them. Assuring them that she was indeed alright, they entered the classroom and mentally prepared for a double period of Hell.

Much to Hermione's surprise, Harry passed the period quite well, despite the toad's continued goading. It seemed that Umbridge's methods for detention had worked in tempering his temper somewhat, and even though Hermione would never want to see Harry lose his spirit or betray his convictions, she was glad that he appeared now more capable in choosing his battles wisely. Already there were faint white lines visible on the back of his left hand.

Relieved to have survived another bout of what was supposed to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, the trio made their way to dinner. Hermione stuck to a light dinner of vegetables, but ate a generous amount of those and added a small chicken fillet for good measure. She left the boys to their own devices and parted ways with them in the Entrance Hall, though Harry was sure to shoot her a concerned look as Ron was already hastening up the stairs, eager to go relax in the common room. Hermione gave Harry a small smile that she tried to make both courageous and encouraging. It seemed to work, for her best friend looked a little relieved and went off after Ron.

All that was left for Hermione to do was turn on her heel and make the walk down to the dungeons.

Attempting to tense and relax her facial muscles while also trying to set one foot in front of the other in something resembling a walking motion was simply something impossible for her to do, Hermione found, much to her chagrin. Her breathing exercise was out of the question as well, it seemed, for emptying her mind of all thought and at the same time remembering and finding the way to her underground classroom proved equally impossible.

Abandoning her efforts, Hermione simply hastened down the corridors until she came to stand in front of the door that would lead to her private lesson. That it still appeared under the disguise of detention tended to slip her mind these days, with all that was going on around her. Determined to try just once more to banish the Astronomy Tower Incident, as she had come to call it, from her mind, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath and released it slowly, resolved to recall that blackness in her mind.

What she did not expect to happen, was the door opening in front of her, apparently on its own accord.

The ancient hinges of the heavy wooden door squeaking and squealing broke her concentration, and her eyes shot open in surprise. Looking up and down the corridor, she saw no one, and concluded that the magic that had opened the door must have come from within the room. Or was the Castle actually sentient?

"Do come in, Miss Granger," a voice half called, half drawled from inside the classroom, "the Castle is draughty enough as it is, there is no need to push that unfortunate factor."

Well, that didn't actually answer her question to the Castle's possible sentience, but it didn't deny it either. Hermione stepped in, and quickly took another step forward in order to not be crushed by the thick door that magically closed itself with a flick of his wand.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," she greeted, her eyes firmly fixed on a spot of the floor in front of the desk he was sitting behind.

"You were not at lunch today, Miss Granger," the professor shot back, foregoing any greeting.

No 'I didn't see you' from him, Hermione thought to herself. No, the professor would never miss anything, so if he hadn't seen her at lunch, she couldn't have been there. Well, he was certainly right on that point.

"I was in the infirmary, sir," she provided.

"And tell me, Miss Granger," Professor Snape drawled, and had she looked up into his face, Hermione was certain she would have seen his standard glower much darker than usual, "why would I continue our little agreement, seeing as you failed both your assignment in class and said failure caused you to fail meeting the conditions I set for these… private lessons?"

Hermione blanched, and quite visibly too if the dropping temperature she could feel in her facial skin was any indication. She had failed her Potions assignment? Oh no, she should never have let Neville take over as completely as she had, but at the time it had seemed to her that caring about her school grades was far less important than training for her ability to protect secrets the discovering of which might tilt the favours in the outcome of this war.

Of course secret keeping is more important, she chided herself, not even needing her inner voice to return for that. Get a grip, girl, and focus on the relevant aspects here.

There was nothing she could do to improve her grade on today's assignment anymore, she knew. What she could change, however, was Professor Snape's mind on dismissing her from his tutelage.

"I did not fail your conditions, sir," she began to explain. "I got eight full hours of sleep in both these past nights, and had three full meals today. I did not miss lunch," she pressed, as she felt he might interrupt her at any moment. "I was not in the Great Hall during lunch break, that is correct, but I did eat lunch. Feel free to check that with Madam Pomfrey, if you wish, because after she had treated me, she had the elves bring up a plate of sandwiches and made personally sure I ate them before releasing me from the infirmary.

"Thus," she bravely continued, "I do not see how I failed your conditions for these private lessons, sir. I would not wish to disrespect you so, that I would knowingly discard any measures you see fit for this tutelage, professor. Please, I would be honoured if you continued to teach me."

Severus found himself stunned into momentary silence. There they were again – her professions of the respect she felt for him, the honour it was to be taught under him…

Under him.

Get a grip, man, he scolded himself, and raised his eyes from where they lingered on her shapely calves up to her face.

Not quite knowing how to respond to her words, Severus did the only thing sensible in such a situation.

"Is there nothing more you have to say, Miss Granger?"

Get the girl to speak instead; that was it.

"I apologize for disrupting your lesson today, sir," she actually went on. Merlin, that worked even better than he had imagined. "I do understand that with my carelessness, I endangered not only Neville and I, but all others present in the classroom. I will not allow such a thing to happen again."

Severus snorted, and had to catch himself not to do so out loud.

"You will not allow it, Miss Granger?" he drawled dangerously. "Tell me, girl, do I have any say in what will happen in my classroom or not, as well, per any chance, or is it all down to you from now on?"

The girl's eyes shot up to meet his own; hers wide open in shock that her contrite apology could have gone so wrong, the whites clearly visible around her brown irises; his own a bottomless black, ready to crush her at any moment.

Before he could even form the thought that it might be a good opportunity to delve into her mind, her eyes were fixed on the floor once more. Not that this would keep him from performing Legilimency on the girl. No, what kept him from doing so was the fact that she had apparently dishevelled him to such a degree that the fraction of a second of her inattention had not been enough for him to break into her mind.

He was a spy, for Nimue's sake, a thrice-damned double agent, and this mere slip of a girl disrupted and, as it seemed, dismantled his reflexes?

Now, that was something he simply could not allow.

Before his anger could unfold to its full magnitude, in all its magnificence, however, the girl spoke again.

"Please, sir, my apologies," she said. "Of course I will deduct myself in any behaviour you, and you alone, see fit. I would ask one thing, however."

When he didn't speak but merely raised his eyebrow in a scathing look that dared her to go on, which she didn't see, of course, what with her eyes still firmly lowered, she took it as a cue to carry on.

"I understand that it was wrong to practice for our private lessons during your class, professor," the girl apparently sook to explain. "But I would ask that you neither reward nor deduct House points due to my behaviour in relation to these lessons."

Severus stood in silence, letting her simmer in her nervousness while pondering her words.

"See to it that I do not have to," he finally said.

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. They both knew it was no promise that he had made, but it was a tiny concession; as long as she didn't overstep outside their little tête-à-têtes, he wouldn't take points.

Unwilling to linger on the matter, Severus decided to start their lesson.

"How far have you gotten with the material I set you, Miss Granger?"

She chewed her lip a little, but her posture changed to one of attention, as if she was giving a report. On another thought, she probably did.

"I have read halfway through the journals, reading them in parallel with each other, sir," the girl said, "though I am of yet uncertain where they will lead me."

Severus realized that a little openness on his part might simplify their private sessions somewhat. Not that he wanted to support the girl for her sake, Merlin no, but rather to aid the Light's war efforts and simultaneously get rid of her presence as soon as possible.

"You will see when we get there. Guidance will be provided at the time it becomes necessary."

A look of surprise was clearly etched into her face before she schooled her expression into one that was probably supposed to appear neutral. Morgana save me from Gryffindors, Severus thought. They were always the ones to carry their hearts on their sleeves. And yes, he had just promised her his assistance – no, not promised, but informed her that he might assist her when needed. Oh bollocks, he was in deep.

"What about the other books?" Severus prompted when she made no effort to speak again.

His voice shook her from her stupor.

"I am mostly through with the history book, sir. All that is left are the chapters with the in-depth description of Mind Magic these past fifty years," she elaborated, "though I read thoroughly through the introductory chapters and believe to have a nice grip on the overall development of Mind Magic over time.

"That last book, the one on meditation and relaxation techniques –," she hesitated for a second, "– I read through the introductory chapter and then worked on the chapters for beginners. I then set to practise some of the exercises. I elected not to read further before I had perfected those."

Severus gave an almost imperceptible nod at her report and then realized that there was no way she would have noticed it, especially with her eyes on the ground.

"Now tell me, Miss Granger," he drawled, though it appeared more benevolent to him than usual, "how did your exercise during your Potions class go today? It was one of chapter five, I believe?"

"Yes, sir," the girl spoke. "I practiced relaxation techniques with facial muscles during the weekend and thought it might be good to delve a little ahead, as I think I mastered those quite well. So I decided to try out one of the breathing techniques. Today's Potions assignment was a standard one, and I miscalculated how wrong it could go if I left it to Neville's devices alone, I see that now.

"I think I started out quite nicely. I settled into the breathing pattern and attempted to empty my mind along with my lungs, gradually lengthening the periods of Pure Black."

Severus did not need to ask what she meant by that. Pure Black was the state of complete emptiness in one's mind. He was surprised that she had managed to go so far on her first try, assuming she had actually come that far, and in a room full of bubbling cauldrons and babbling teenagers, no less. Most beginners needed weeks to reach anything even remotely resembling a dark grey.

"But then, I… I must have inhaled the fumes from our cauldron. I only remember hitting my head, and when I opened my eyes, you were standing above me and everybody was looking at me."

Severus chuckled darkly, electing to do so out loud this time.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger," he said, "perhaps it was quite unwise to practice emptying your mind in a classroom environment, don't you think?"

"But sir," the girl protested immediately, "I only failed because I inhaled poisonous fumes. If I had known that –"

"But how would you?" Severus interrupted. "How would you have known that there was danger with your eyes closed and your mind shut to the world? You would not have noticed a wand pointed at your nose, Miss Granger. And even if you had, with your mind completely empty, how would you have reacted? How would you have processed the danger, called upon your knowledge, and used it to your advantage? How?"

Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish in the open, snapping for oxygen. The girl knew he was right, but fought to accept that knowledge.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, what does the manual say in the beginning of chapter five?"

The girl's perfect recall kicked in, freeing her from her embarrassment, and she recited: "'Much as with a muscle, full control is needed over one's mind, and complete awareness thereof, if one is to both use and relax it.'"

Severus almost snorted at her word-for-word quote.

"Now, what do you suppose that means, Miss Granger?"

The girl worried her lip some more before responding.

"I believe it means that in order to empty my mind, I need to be able to concentrate? Like one needs to be able to ball a fist in order to consciously relax one's hand?"

"Well, that's a very crude example, Miss Granger," Severus replied, "and generally wrong."

Her look of indignity amused him; as if it was a personal affront to her person to tell the girl that she had understood a book wrong. Come to think of it, she probably saw it as such. Her mind was her greatest asset, after all.

"You see, Miss Granger, what the author meant was not to see usage and relaxation of the mind as two separate entities, but rather as two activities that needed to be merged into one. I agree that the phrasing is unfortunate, but what is important here is that even while attempting the Pure Black, one has to pay attention to outward events. Once that skill is fully mastered, one is in no danger of being physically attacked while mentally unaware, nor of being mentally vulnerable while countering any physical assault.

"Now, as you remember I told you, there are few skilled Legilimens among the Dark Lord's ranks. Fortunately for the Order, there are few skilled Dark supporters, as well, that could be called upon as questioners. As it is, the ultimate goal for these private lessons will be to school you in Occlumency until you are sufficient enough to withstand intrusion under slight pain, and to confuse your own thoughts, what any intruders will see, into worthlessness under considerable pain."

The girl was listening with rapt attention, he could see. She was still standing in front of his desk, with him little comfortably seated behind it, in his high backed wooden chair.

"What the Headmaster certainly hopes for is for Potter not to fight the fight for as long as possible. I assume he believes that Potter will finish school and can then be hidden away at by the Order."

The girl shook her head.

"That will never work," she muttered under her breath, as if unconscious of doing so.

"I find myself agreeing with you on that point, Miss Granger."

Her look of surprise was almost worth that admittance.

"Things will escalate far before that, I'm afraid," Severus elaborated. "Events will be set in motion. If not from the ranks of the Dark Lord, then by Potter's poor temper, certainly."

"He is restless," the girl interrupted. "He is under a lot of pressure, and nobody will tell him anything."

"And rightly so, Miss Granger," Severus scowled. His gaze darkened. "Potter is an incalculable risk to the Light. He is incontrollable. He is a teenager, for Merlin's sake, he can't even control himself. He could not even bring himself to allow you a little personal secret. What do you think he would make of the Order's secrets?"

The girl looked hurt at his jibe at her fight with Potter in the Great Hall, three days prior.

"I chose to reveal my detention to him, professor," she defended her so-called best friend. "I chose to tell him. He didn't do anything."

"Then why did you tell him, Miss Granger?" Severus pressed on. "Were you afraid to lose him as a friend? And what a poor friend he was, allowing you to reveal such an embarrassment in front of the whole school. Well, what do you think it takes for him to have an Order member reveal secrets to him? Oh, wait – didn't Black do that already?

"Potter simply has to threaten to break free of the protecting hand that the Order is holding over him, and they will tell him anything he wants to know. The Light cannot afford to lose Potter in some ill-advised, self-assigned mission to save the world that will end with him dead sooner than necessary, and sooner than convenient. He is a teenager, and the Light's war efforts rest on his shoulders."

The girl was stunned into silence, it appeared. Incensed as he was, Severus couldn't help but feel glad that such a thing could happen to her, as well.

"Now, as I said," Severus sought to recollect himself, "I believe the war will escalate sooner than the Headmaster hopes, and certainly in less than three years' time. As I see it, it will be wise to teach you Occlumency as intensely as possible, and to build up your tolerance for pain next to that."

"What about the other aspects you mentioned, professor?" the girl asked.

"Unless you are telling me you are psychologically unstable, I will not endeavour to school your resistance in that aspect," Severus replied. "Until you are anywhere near sufficient in Occlumency, I will repeatedly draw upon the most embarrassing, hurtful, emotional memories and private thoughts you possess, Miss Granger. By persisting in these lessons, by repeatedly facing your deepest fears, most secret desires, and darkest thoughts, you should achieve psychological stability enough not to crack under the first thing any of the Dark Lord's followers might throw at you. As I said, there are not many who possess both finesse and patience enough to delve into psychological torture to any significant amount. You should be quite safe on that account."

"And…" She cleared her perfectly clear throat. "And that last aspect?"

"Miss Granger," Severus growled, "I will not attempt to teach you anything on that account, and I suggest you never ask me to. I do, however, suggest you become comfortable with the thought of being seen as a sexual being."

"You – I – what?"

Severus had to close his eyes for a moment, and pinched his nose to hold back the migraine that had started to creep into his head for a few more moments.

"Miss Granger, the Dark Lord's men will not care about the fact that you are a mere child, or that you are still in school, or that you wear baggy clothing that hides your assets. I suggest that you get used to the idea of being viewed as a woman."

"How – how do you suggest I do so, professor?"

The girl's voice was barely audible, so embarrassed she seemed to even ask the question. Severus sighed inwardly. Did she believe he was any more comfortable with this conversation than she was?

"Work on your appearance, Miss Granger," Severus advised. "Get those dunderheaded chits you live with to help you. Once you see yourself as a woman, you might understand that others see you as such, as well."

"But won't that encourage them, sir?"

"Not doing so will not discourage them, Miss Granger," he replied. "Furthermore, you should shorten your skirts."

"What?!"

"You heard me correctly. I want you to shorten them by six inches by Hallowe'en. And before you protest, Miss Granger," Severus halted her, the girl's mouth already opened, "that is half an inch every Potions lesson. I will check, if necessary. Remember, you agreed to me setting a certain dress code. Now honour that agreement."

Severus couldn't help sneering on that last thought. He hesitated, however, before voicing the next.

"I also suggest ridding yourself of any barriers you would not want to forcibly get rid of."

Before she could formulate a question, her confusion at that last advice clear on her face, he pressed on.

"Now, Occlumency, Miss Granger. Tell me everything you know about its history."

Hermione was confused about the abrupt change of topic. Sure, he had planned out their private sessions to focus on Mind Magic first and pain as a side topic, and she had interrupted him with questions about those – well – other aspects, but for him to let something drop that fast was foreign to her.

And what had he meant – ridding herself of barriers she did not want to be forcibly rid of? She simply could not understand his intention behind that statement, and in what relation it stood to their earlier conversation.

So, instead of worrying too much about that right that moment, lest he did send her away, after all, she gave a brief summary of what she had learned about Mind Magic.

"The use of Mind Magic was first documented in the sixteenth century B.C.," she recalled. "Back then, it was rather a method of conversation, used to overcome language barriers by giving visual descriptions of events, but also to converse in secret, without outwardly speaking at all. The intended usage changed over the following centuries, but the method used was mostly the same – the instinctual search for a breach in the barrier surrounding the other party's mind, and then widening and exploiting that breach.

"It wasn't until well into the fourteenth century that there was a scientific method put to Mind Magic, searching to refine the magic used and to both reduce the effort needed on the Legilimens's part as well as the damage suffered on the Occlumens's part. The intent was still to use Mind Magic as a means of voluntary conversation, mainly as a way to keep communication absolutely secret during the numerous Goblin Wars, never knowing when a goblin's fine ears would be listening.

"Only about four hundred years later was Legilimency forged to use as a weapon against an opponent's mind, and the art of Occlumency became one of defence. It is, even today, mostly used as a means to forcibly extract information."

There was a pause in which none of them spoke. When after a few moments Professor Snape still had not made to speak, Hermione pondered whether she had forgotten something. Had her studying been inefficient? Had she missed something important, something essential? Had she failed her first assignment, to read into something – her, the greatest bookworm of them all?

"Understand, Miss Granger," the professor finally broke the silence, "that even though there are more refined techniques for Mind Magic nowadays, it is still a subject rarely studied. It is an exceedingly complex and difficult to accomplish branch of magic, and is far rarer than even Animagic."

"But sir," Hermione asked, "I looked it up in third year, when Professor McGonagall spoke to us about Animagic, and there are currently only seven Animagi registered at the Ministry." She elected not to talk about at least three other Animagi she knew to be alive – Rita Skeeter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. "Are there really fewer accomplished Mind Mages in Great Britain than that? Fewer than seven?"

"Assuming you mean that as a rhetorical question, rather than calling my knowledge into question, Miss Granger," Professor Snape shot her a dangerous look, "there is the significant difference between those two branches of magic that Animagi need to register while Mind Mages do not. And as you know, there is always a dark figure with these rare magicks, so it is quite safe to assume that there are unknown Mind Mages out and about.

"Mind Magic is certainly not a skill to be advertised, be one a Legilimens or an Occlumens, or both. Professor Dumbledore, though famous for his excellent grasp of many rare and difficult skills, is only known by few as the expert Mind Mage that he is, in both branches. The Dark Lord is more widely known to be an ingenious Legilimens, and feared as such. Both branches carry the danger with them that, if inefficiently used, expose the fact that one attempted to learn them. As they are mostly used in aggressive or even hostile environment, such exposure rarely ends well, and even more rarely with both parties still alive."

"You must be an expert Occlumens then, professor," Hermione concluded, "seeing as you are still very much alive. Either that, or you are high in you-know-who's favour."

The professor gave a short snort that sounded much like a bitter laugh to Hermione.

"No one is high in the Dark Lord's favour for long, Miss Granger," he replied. "I assume you understand now that you need to train very well very soon in Occlumency for it to be of any use to you?"

"Yes, professor," Hermione agreed.

"And you understand that it is of the utmost importance for you to keep your skills, be they worth mentioning or not, on that subject – and my own as well – secret? No one can know about you training in this branch of magic. Not your classmates, not any Order members, not even your closest family or friends. And certainly not Potter. Do you understand, Miss Granger?"

Hermione swallowed thickly.

"Yes, sir," she agreed.

Professor Snape hesitated for a second, it seemed, regarding her with a gaze so intense, Hermione felt he was scanning her to the bone. He probably was.

After a few moments, it was over. It appeared the Potions Master was content with what he found.

"Now, as I meant to say earlier, it is true that there are more refined techniques to Mind Magic nowadays than there were a few centuries ago."

Hermione nodded to show that she was listening intently, determined not to interrupt her professor again, if in any way avoidable.

"As it is such a difficult art, and hard to accomplish, though, there are a few Legilimens out there that are hardly worth being called such. However, even if they do not know the fine skill of subtly sneaking into an opponent's mind, that does not mean they cannot brutishly delve into the thoughts of a victim already physically subdued. That, Miss Granger, is what you might be up against."

Hermione swallowed thickly once more. To have her mind violated was a thought gruesome enough for her. To imagine someone doing so in a brutal way…

"That is not, however, how we will be starting your lessons, Miss Granger. We will begin subtly, so as not to irrevocably damage your mind."

"'Not irrevocably'?" Hermione asked, in her exasperation forgetting to insist on her constant politeness. Her voice softened, however, as she realized that Professor Snape was still very much doing her a favour she had asked for, schooling her in protecting her mind against violent intruders. With that she came to another question.

"Why do you care, sir?"

Why did he care, indeed? Severus wondered.

He wanted to make a scathing remark, to put her in her place for asking such an inappropriate question, for questioning his methods at all, once more. It then occurred to him that the question had been asked without the malice and disdain he would have expected. Not from her, no, not from her, but from another Muggle-born Gryffindor that had once had his attention.

Not that the girl had his attention, mind you.

No, the girl had posed the question with genuine curiosity.

Why do you care?

"In this swamp of uneducated answers of those underachieving dunderheads," Severus said, "I would rather not lose the one mind that might someday develop into something."

This was like trying to pay somebody a compliment while also trying very hard not to. In short, this was a bumbling mess of a sentence, but it prompted a smile to form on the girl's face. A wide, brilliant smile, full with white teeth and laugh lines around the eyes. Merlin, what had he done?

Fortunately, the girl knew better than to thank him, even though it took her a few minutes of obvious struggles to wipe the satisfied, proud smile from her face. Ridiculous, she was, really.

"So, instead of simply brutalizing your mind, Miss Granger," Severus steered them back to the topic at hand, "I will give you thirty seconds to compose yourself before we will revisit your memories of Thursday last. Your time starts… now."

It was most amusing for Severus to watch the emotions play on her face. Her content smile from just a moment before transformed into a look of absolute horror that she then tried to school into an expression of neutrality, at which she failed spectacularly. Severus knew very well that telling her his goal for the Legilimency he was going to perform on her was a special kind of cruel. It was like telling somebody not to think of a pink elephant.

The Potions Master was, indeed, curious as to what he was about to see in her memories of that night. He had extracted his own and safely stored them in a secret facility full of his more difficult and more dangerous memories. Extracting a memory into a vial or pensieve did not remove it from one's mind. It merely dulled the recollection and heightened the effort needed to fully remember it. It also hid the signature trail leading to it in one's mind's map, effectively making it harder to find for a Legilimens if the defending Occlumens did not want it to be found.

Severus knew that he would have to hide many of his upcoming lessons with the girl, or rather his memories thereof. It would be hard enough to explain why he supported a Muggleborn by giving her extra tuition, more so the only student who achieved better grades than Draco Malfoy in any and every subject, once knowledge of their private meetings got out. Severus did not even want to imagine how the Dark Lord would react if He knew that he was tutoring Harry Potter's best friend and brainy sidekick in how to withstand the forces of His followers. As it was, Severus was a valuable asset to the Dark Lord, or so He believed, but He was also a very temperamental madman who would kill even His most treasured follower without a second thought.

The girl's thirty seconds were well over, and with a whispered 'Legilimens', Severus delved into her mind. The twirling thoughts around him appeared to be in black-and-white rather than the vibrant colours he expected from an inexperienced Occlumens – not that the girl could call herself such a Mage at this point –, but it was too dark for him to make out individual thoughts.

Severus was reluctantly impressed. It was rare for anybody to ease into Occlumency the way the girl apparently had, and she had taken to it like a fish to water. It was no hardship for Severus to force the girl's mind to reveal its true colours, and all its corridors leading down different memory lanes, of course. Still, it was quite a feat to even initially hide something from him.

As that one time before that he had performed Legilimency on her, Severus was struck by the complexity of the girl's mind. This, more than anything, proved her to be far above her peers in any way. Unwilling to be drawn into some side thought, however, Severus searched for her recollections of their encounter on top of the Astronomy tower, and plunged right in.

He skipped their dialogue leading towards her punishment, and fast-forwarded the spanking itself as best he could – it truly was magnificent watching her soft white globes become peppered with the red imprints of his own hand –, until he stopped to closely examine some of their last interaction.

'Are you aware that if I took you now, Miss Granger, nobody would be coming to help you?'

Severus watched himself grind into the girl's body, his throbbing length firmly nestled in the perfect crevice of her smooth mounds. Her soft 'Yes, sir' was breathy. His cock twitched even now.

'Are you afraid, Miss Granger?'

'Yes, sir.'

And there it came, the moment he needed to know more about.

'Do you fear me?'

Severus watched her face intently, determined to understand her answer, while also keeping a mental eye on her mind's response to recollecting that significant moment.

'No.'

But why didn't she fear him? What was there not to fear? And how could she be afraid but not fearful? It didn't make any sense. None of it. The girl didn't make sense.

Her face in the memory was completely in the dark. The girl had no recollection of how her face had looked that exact moment, so there was no way for him to shed light on it. What he could examine, however, was her mental and emotional response.

There was wariness, a good deal of it. Seven hells, a grown man, a professor, nonetheless, a fellow of the Light, somebody that was supposed to protect her, was posed as if to violate her in the most intimate of ways. And she appeared afraid alright, her body stiff and unyielding, poised to fight tooth and nail once he overstepped one more line – for how many had he already overstepped that night in spanking her? –, that one line that was more important than any other.

But that was merely her body in the memory, an instinctive response, less reasonable than irrational, really. Not that it wasn't perfectly reasonable for the girl to be afraid in such a moment.

However, that was not the emotional response he got from her in this very moment, in this instant of him reviewing her memory. What he felt now, what she felt now, was…

Trust?

No, it could not be. Certainly not. Not after all he had done, not that night. Not now.

Apparently sensing his incredulity, Severus felt a little nudge from the mind he was violating right now, much as he had violated her body that night.

'Almost violated,' a whisper seemed to come from the conscience around him, putting emphasis on the first word. The girl's conscience. More trusting than he ever deserved, and more trusting certainly than was sensible. She even went so far as to provide him with input as he was intruding in her mind, while all she was meant to do was keep him out. It was as if she didn't even try.

Suddenly overwhelmed with all the implications his experience in her mind brought with it, he extracted himself from her brain. Perhaps he used more haste and thus force to do so, as the girl winced in pain when she came to.

"Why?" Severus asked. He didn't mean to, but he needed to know. His foray into the girl's innermost thoughts had not brought the clarity that he had expected.

"I was afraid of being violated," the girl explained readily, if a little hesitantly in her wording. "I still am, in that matter. But I was never in fear of you, professor."

"Why not?" Severus pressed.

"I trust you, sir," she said simply.

"Yes, but why?"

Severus was really desperate by now, desperate to understand what the hell was wrong with this girl.

"I can't tell you, sir," she answered, her face scrunched up in what he knew to be her pondering expression. "If I had to guess I would say that it is because I believe you to be a truly good person, a good man, underneath that persona that you have to don like an armour anytime you face the world."

Severus was truly annoyed at the fact that the girl repeatedly managed to stun him into momentary silence.

"Your trust will be the death of you, Miss Granger," he finally croaked, damning his voice for abandoning him now that he had found it.

"Maybe," the girl said. The expression on her face now resembled that of a certain fourth year Ravenclaw. "Maybe it will. But before that comes to pass, I trust you to teach me how to take all the relevant information to my grave."

Severus wanted to laugh in her face, telling her that there were no graves for the bloody pulps that any and all defenders of the Light would be beaten into by the Dark Lord's followers before they were disposed of.

Severus wanted to cry for all the innocence that had been lost in the First Wizarding War, and all the innocence that would be lost in the Second.

Electing neither of those two options, Severus recollected himself and went to teach the girl how to defend her mind.

Coming up: a long wait, and eventually, chapter ten, which hopefully will be worth it.