Hermione didn't feel the cold the hit her through her thin pyjamas as she was carried up to the castle; she was so tired that she immediately fell into a deep slumber the moment that her head hit a soft pillow. She didn't even notice the blanket that was pulled up over her tired form. What she did notice, however, was the cracking of the fire and the soft light that slid into her bedroom when she awoke.

Her entire body felt heavy, sore and exhausted from her traumatic experience the night before, and she let out a huff of breath as she pulled herself from her warm cocoon. Fuzzy memories were swimming through her head but refusing to form a coherent picture. She remembered a familiar man, a friend, carrying her up to the castle, but she couldn't quite place what had happened. She knew that Harry had requested her 'services' of course, but the event itself, and everything following it, was a blur.

Her shoulders cracked as she rolled them back, and it was in a clumsy, groggy manner that she opened the door to her living room.

The room was lit only with the fire, giving a soft, homely ambience that was calming to her nerves. Everything in her chambers was the way that she had left it, and she felt both reassured and slightly out of place looking at the books spread out over her desk and the coat thrown haphazardly beside it.

When her eyes lit upon her sofa, she jumped. A tall, dark haired figure was spread out of the comfortable furniture, a crease in his brow and a blanket pulled half over his chest. His shoes had been removed, and his breathing was slow and even as she cautiously approached. It was bizarre, to see the usually domineering presence of the man changed into something much more fragile.

She gently pulled the blanket over him fully, and transfigured the small cushion into a soft pillow under his head. She then returned to her room, to join him in sleep.

She had no idea what time it was when she woke again, but this time the light was bright, filling her bedchamber with a golden glow. She could smell the mown grass drifting through her open window, and she could hear the children playing outside - those who hadn't left for the holiday.

She could see her unexpected guest leaning against her door frame with an unreadable expression and a steaming mug in hand.

"About time you woke up," he said. "I've been standing here for a good five minutes."

She frowned. "Standing there watching me sleep? Not creepy at all."

"You're one to talk."

Hermione blushed as she remembered her actions from the night before. Before she could comment, he strode forward in his socked feet and handed her the mug of chamomile tea. She inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the smell of the calming tea mixed with honey.

"Thank you."

He hesitated a moment before taking a seat at the end of her bed and fidgeting awkwardly.

"That was quite an unexpected event last night, Miss Granger. You're lucky I was in the castle."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, holding her cup close to her face. "I'm sorry, I really don't know what actually happened last night. I remember being at the burrow, and then everything is a bit on the blurry side."

"Ronald Weasley brought you back here," Severus told her neutrally. "He told me that something had happened at the Burrow, and that he thought it might be to do with Mr Potter."

Hermione flinched. "We had an altercation of sorts."

"I see. You arrived with a face full of bruises, and a large chunk of your hair missing. I'm assuming this was something more than an exchange of heated words."

"It was."

Despite the conversation at hand, and the events that had preluded it, she felt oddly blank. A small part of her realised that she ought to be emotional, that she should be feeling something. A rather larger part of Hermione was welcoming the strange calm.

"Would you like to talk about what happened?"

"Not particularly."

He took a deep breath. "Hermione, I think you need to talk about it. I need to know if I should get Madam Pomfrey to heal you anywhere."

"There's no need," she replied. "Thank you for healing me. All I have left is mildly bruised shoulders and an incredibly painful throat - I'm certain that even my novice understanding of healing should be enough to cope with that."

He flinched at her declaration, and Hermione leaned forwards, meeting his gaze in an attempt to reassure him. "Honestly Professor, I'm absolutely fine."

"You shouldn't be!" he snapped. "You've been assaulted, again, and you're telling me you're fine. Be honest."

"But I am fine," she said, puzzled. "It was nowhere near as bad as last time."

He threw his hands up into the air and lurched to his feet. "Don't base fine on a relative concept! Something bad happening is still bad - it doesn't matter how much worse you've endured! You shouldn't have experienced this at all!"

She sighed. "I'm sorry Professor Snape, but all experiences are weighed up against other ones. There are people dying, people being raped, people being put under the cruciatus curse. I find it difficult to see this event as a particularly big deal."

"Well, it is! It's disgusting."

With that, her heart sank, and she felt the emptiness inside her grow into an aching abyss to which she had no response. She simply stared down at her tea, trying to formulate a correct sentence, a correct response to what he was telling her.

But, she had none. Nothing. Nothing at all.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Don't be."

The words were clipped and harsh, and despite his quieted tone Hermione could tell that he was still fuming. His whole body was rigid, his jaw set and arms crossed over his chest. The only word that Hermione could bring to mind to describe him was petulant. She forced down the smile that threatened to penetrate.

"Do you really want to know what happened?"

He closed his eyes. "If you feel able and willing to share, then yes. I would."

She took a large gulp of tea and paused to put together her thoughts.

"I didn't know that Harry and Ron were going to be at the Burrow. I thought it was just going to be Ginny and myself - I wouldn't have gone otherwise. The boys arrived a couple of days later. Molly and Arthur were delighted to have them to stay, and Ginny was of course over the moon. To be honest, it was nice to check in and see how they were doing.

Ginny and Harry were staying in different rooms, as Molly doesn't believe in sex before marriage - due to the Virgin's Blood, you see. I'd never heard of it, so Molly explained it to me. That's probably why Harry came to me when he was struggling again, you see. He didn't want to dishonour Ginny. So instead he came to me, and told me that it's the horcrux that he's carrying - we found a piece of Voldemort's soul, and have been carrying it around until we can find a way to destroy it."

To her relief, he seemed to realise that this was not the time to ask, and so she continued.

"This time, he just wanted to fuck my throat, so that's why it's painful. At least he didn't rape me again. It was just really uncomfortable and unwanted. I fought him - I thought he was going to penetrate me. That's why I got the injuries. I got into a bit of a flap afterwards, and had a panic attack in the bathroom. That's where Ron found me, and apparently realised that I needed to come home. Thank you for being there to look after me."

Severus Snape looked, for want of a better word, gobsmacked. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were burning with fury.

"I'm too furious to talk about this right now," he told her. He then swept from the room, and Hermione heard a moment later as her chamber door slammed shut. Clearly, he was sickened by her.

Sickened by her servicing Harry, she thought. The empty hole split inside her, and a quiet keening sound of pain oozed out of her as she doubled over and placed her forehead against her hands, still clasped tightly around her tea.

He was horrified, furious. Too sickened to even stay in her presence. She could see why - she was sickened by herself. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes tight, but the tears and relief wouldn't come. She was held in a sort of limbo, needing to let it out by wholly unable to. She didn't know how long had passed before a knocking sounded on her door.

Come to tell me how disgusting I am, no doubt.

She tried to ignore it, but the knocking only became more and more insistent until she finally opened the door to see not only Snape, but also Professor McGonagall. The stern Scottish woman immediately swept her into a hug, holding her tightly in her arms.

"Oh, lass" she choked. "Severus has told me what happened. Can we come in and have a talk?"

Unable to speak, Hermione nodded and stood back for her to enter.

She sat primly on the sofa, hands crossed in her lap and fully dressed in her teaching attire. Severus Snape, on the other hand, removed his outer robe and rolled up his sleeves before sitting in the armchair to allow the women their closeness. Spiffy was called to provide a tea service, and Minerva dabbed a hankie to her eyes continuously as they took their refreshments.

"I am so, so sorry, Miss Granger," Minerva began. "I cannot apologise enough for being so unaware of your plight when you returned to Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes widened in confusion. "I thought the Headmaster told the main Order that I was attacked?"

"He gave us none of the details, my dear. In fact, he made it sound like a minor incident."

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't want anyone to find out about it."

Professor McGonagall pulled her into another hug. "We could have helped you…"

Severus glared at the display. "There's no point lamenting the past, Minerva. I brought you here to help care for your lion now."

The older woman shot a look towards Severus that could only be described as a glare. He shook his head imperceptibly at her, and Minerva focused back to the girl at hand.

"Do you have any injuries that we need to take care of?"

Snape scowled. "I have already asked her that, Minerva."

"There's no harm in asking again."

Hermione shook her head. "As I told Professor Snape, I'm absolutely fine."

She fidgeted as her head of house eyed the red, tear tracked cheeks. It was true; it wasn't as though the event had really upset her. If anything, it was the Potions Master's response to said events. She didn't even know why she cared what he thought.

"I understand that what has happened is very traumatic-"

"You don't," Hermione said softly. "You don't understand."

Her head of house looked utterly distraught. "I am sorry, Miss Granger. Would you like to talk about it?"

"As I told Professor Snape, no I wouldn't."

Severus sighed and ran a finger through his hair. "I believe we could start with a discussion of the myths of Virgin's Blood? Meanwhile, I am going in search of the Headmaster."

"Like he'll care," Hermione muttered. He ignored her comment, and rose to his feet to silently leave the room. He left his outer robe in her chambers, and the brunette's eyes lit upon it, realising that he was coming back.

"Why on earth would you need to hear about Virgin's Blood, Miss Granger? Did someone coerce you to help them with a so-called "cure" for their ailments?"

She shook her head. "No, Professor. In fact, I was told about it by Molly Weasley. She told me that the Virgin's Blood is very powerful in forming a bond between a witch and a wizard, and that it bodes well for longevity of a relationship as well as providing boons for any offspring."

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "That is a load of utter codswallop, my dear. Virgin's Blood is a myth, designed to keep women apparently 'pure' in order to sate the ego of wizards who quite frankly be grateful for any witch they can get, with that attitude. It is archaic, going back to a time before births were recorded magically. It was spread in order to be certain of paternity, you see. Purebloods in particular were fond of this as it kept their bloodlines supposedly pure. Now, we know that is a load of rubbish as well, but the myth remains along with many others."

Hermione felt her eyes well up once more. "So really, virginity means nothing?"

Professor McGonagall shook her head and took in a deep breath. "In terms of magic, it does not. In terms of mind and emotion however, the concept becomes much more entangled. There is still a sanctity of allowing someone to be so intimately close to you. Many people do prefer this to be in a monogamous relationship, but the thing is that the practice is a choice. All intimate relations should be by choice, Miss Granger."

She spoke the last sentence very, very softly, but it didn't stop the burst of pained disappointment that shot through Hermione. Did they believe her too weak to choose for herself? Did they believe that she should have fought harder to protect herself? Maybe they thought that she shouldn't have used herself to protect her friend. A knock on the door, and Minerva quickly allowed Severus back in to the living room.

"I know that," Hermione replied shortly. "I just need time to think things through."

Her head of house patted her on the knee as she and Severus returned to their seats. "If you need someone to talk to about this, a female perhaps, then I'm happy to provide you with an alternative confident to Professor Snape, here. I know he may be a bit…"

"A bit what?" Hermione snapped. "I'm finding the time spent with Professor Snape to be very valuable indeed, Professor. He is very kind and empathetic as well as a good listener. He understands the difference between comfort and meaningless platitudes. I think you should talk with more respect of your colleagues - I've certainly never heard him insult you."

She had heard him insult Dumbledore, but that was another matter entirely.

Her teachers, both, looked flabbergasted, and it took Minerva several moments to formulate a response. "I apologise for my lack of consideration," she spoke slowly. "I simply wanted to let you know that I am available, and I do advise that you speak to a woman - if not me, then someone else. Madam Pomfrey, perhaps. There are things that a man won't understand, or might find difficult to talk about."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in a very Snape-like fashion. "Another archaic belief - and from you, Professor, so soon after discounting the Virgin's Blood theory? How very hypocritical. You are right that I have a choice, and I would like to be able to use that choice, and I use it to speak to someone that I trust implicitly."

She sighed, and placed her cup on the table. "I'm sorry, Professor. It's been a very difficult few days for me, and I really wouldn't usually want to talk to you so familiarly. I'm so very sorry."

"That's alright, dear. I understand that we all use heated words when in a fit of emotion. You are not the first student to have an outburst in my presence, and you certainly won't be the last."

Hermione nodded. "Would you mind if I ask you to leave for now, and then maybe have a talk tomorrow? If you're not busy or anything?"

McGonagall smiled. "Of course, Miss Granger. When would suit you?"

Hermione frowned, trying to think through any kind of structure for her day. What was the point? Severus seemed to notice this, and cut in very smoothly.

"I'm sure Hermione will be able to send word for you when she's ready."

If Minerva was surprised by his use of Hermione's name, she didn't comment as she gathered herself to leave, giving Hermione another tight hug on her way out.

A brief awkward pause fixed by the ordering of a cup of tea, and Severus spoke up shyly, a new emotion to be seen on the man, and one which Hermione found to be incredibly endearing.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Although unnecessary, it was very kind of you to defend me, and I appreciate your trust in me. Not many people do."

"You're very welcome. More people should."

The tension barely dissipated, but both appeared to feel better about the exchange as they drank yet more tea. Spiffy provided more sandwiches (I live to serve!) and the two nibbled quietly before Severus excused himself to use the bathroom.

Hermione giggled, giggled, at the thought of the man using her facilities. It was strange - it wasn't that the thought gave her any immature joy, it was simply surreal to have the man in her chambers, sitting with her, drinking tea, and now using her toilet. A smile must have remained on her face, for his eyes softened as he returned.

"Will you be alright if I retire for the night."

She shivered and looked away. "I will… be alright, Professor."

"But?"

"But I would prefer it if you stay. I feel very safe with you here. You are a… great comfort to me, Professor."

He nodded. "Tell a single soul about this and I will gut you for potions ingredients."

"I'd expect nothing less," she grinned. "Would you like something to read?"

A lightbulb moment occurred, and he shook his head to clear it. "I asked Septima about your code."

"You did?"

He looked rather irritated. "I said I would, did I not?"

"You did. Did you find out anything?"

"Perhaps," he smiled slightly. "She said she couldn't provide much advice without seeing the code itself, however she did tell me of a device located in my Aunt's attic. I have brought it back with me; Septima has informed me that in the correct hands it may be used to solve almost any code possible. It is rather outdated, but I doubt that will be a problem with this particular text, Miss Granger."

She smirked with mirth before folding her legs up beneath her. "Indeed. And Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Could you maybe call me Hermione, just while we're in here?"

"I think that could be considered improper…"

She scoffed. "More improper than the time we spend alone together? Yeah, okay."

"Are you asking me to cease our interactions?"

"Absolutely not! I'm simply asking you to use my name in the space where you take your shoes off and use my lavatory."

He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright. Hermione."

She nodded back and grinned widely. "Thank you."

They continued talking for hours longer, Hermione's mood increasing, and the atmosphere much more intimate than it had ever been as her name rolled beautifully off his tongue. He didn't offer the same liberty, but that was okay.

For now, it was very much okay.

A/N - Don't worry, we'll be catching up with Ron next chapter! And we'll be moving on to the interesting shit...