Hermione once again woke up in an unfamiliar place. This time, however, she was able to ascertain how she got there. She found herself on a black velvet lounge, in a room which she figured was Snapes by searching through her memory banks. Her mind was still cloudy though. As she sat up to look around her head spun and was met by a hand holding it and letting it slowly fall back on the pillow underneath.

"You've had a severe shock," Snapes voice was deep and soft, it soothed Hermiones throbbing head. "You must not get up so quickly."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, wrestling with her memories yet again.

"I didn't rape you if that's what you're thinking."

Hermiones giggle caught in her throat. Did Professor Snape just make a joke?

"I'll get you a glass of water." His disposition calmed Hermione.

Her calm was broken suddenly by the realisation of why she was in this state. "I was the baby" she whispered under her breath and felt the darkness approach again.

"Oh no you don't!" Hermione felt an arm grip underneath her as she almost slid off the lounge. Pulling her back on the lounge she heard Snape grunt and felt the weight of his head fall upon her torso. "If you keep doing this I will have to force feed you my anti-fainting potion."

Hermione opened her eyes to see Snape watching her intently. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable she shifted a little, pushing the blankets over a bit which in turn knocked over the glass of water residing beside her on the floor. "Sorry," she flinched, worried about Snapes reaction.

Snape just grunted again, picking up the glass to take to the sink and muttering a cleansing spell under his breath that immediately ridded the carpet of water.

Noticing Snapes wand Hermione instinctively tapped her pockets searching for her own.

"Oh no," Snape looked at Hermione disapprovingly, "not until I can be sure that you wont try to kill me."

Hermiones head grew hot followed by a sharp pain in her temple.

"Here," Snape offered Hermione a small yellow vial, "for severe headaches and uncontrollable temper."

Hermione smiled gratefully, though her eyes were laced with suspicion. She downed the bottle and felt better straight away. He really is a great potion maker she thought.

"What happened in your office tonight?" Hermione enquired in a quiet, curious voice.

Snape explained her sudden temper, and her climbing over the desk in an attempt to kill him.

"That seems a little forward for me," Hermione joked, shocked at the description of her behaviour.

"It troubles me," Snapes face grew severe. "You're behaviour is becoming increasingly less like you, you are losing an increasing amount of memory. In my office on our first meeting you drifted out of consciousness and began murmuring things under your breath."

"I…I thought I fell asleep." Hermione searched her mind for some kind of recollection, to no avail.

"So did I for a moment."

"But, what did I, I mean, whoever, my unconscious, Gripes…oh Merlin." Hermione struggled to cope with the thought that someone else resided inside her. "What did Gripes say?"

Snape looked at Hermione with a grimace. "We need not talk about these things in your current condition. You must set aside your know-it-all nature and rest."

Hermione looked at Snape pityingly. This would normally be when she fired up, but the potion really did work well. "I'm quite rested, thank you very much. If this Gripes is inside my body, don't you think I have the right to ask anything and everything that will help me get him out?" She was calm with her words, and sounded sincere in her question.

Snape shook his head, seemingly annoyed that he didn't get a rise out of her. "Well, I am tired," Snape sighed, "I wish only to rest my head on my pillow and leave you to your own dreams." With that he left Hermione, the candles snuffing out of their own accord after shutting his door, leaving the room in darkness.

Hermione heard Snape murmur a silencing spell at the door. She felt suddenly alone, laying still, her eyes wide and her mind running at a mile a minute.

For two hours Hermione lay on the lounge, terrified to shut her eyes and go to sleep. She wasn't afraid of the darkness or the strange noises throughout the room. She was afraid of something deeper. She was afraid of her own mind, uncertain as to what thoughts were hers and what thoughts weren't. There was someone inside her, someone who seemed purely evil, someone who enjoyed killing, someone she couldn't escape. With that thought she understood why Remus was frightened that she may go mad. Truth was she felt like she already had.

After deciding that sleeping alone was more frightening then the prospect of waking Snape up, she tiptoed across the floor towards his bedroom door. Opening it with a creak she was astounded not to find any wards keeping her from entering the blackened room. She tiptoed towards the bed, feeling her way through the darkness, uncertain as to what lay ahead of her.

BANG!

"OW!" Hermione cried into the night.

Snape leaped out of bed. "LUMOS!" He cried and his wand lit up the room, revealing Hermione bouncing around holding her swollen toe making odd noises, and Snape standing stark naked next to his bed.

"What are you doing in here!?" Snape snapped, scrambling into his bed sheets, covering himself up.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione stopped bouncing, her attention drawn to the naked Snape in front of her once again. "I…I was frightened." She finished lamely, knowing Snape was very close to becoming a cliché and transfiguring her into a toad.

"Were you raised by wolves!? Or are you too good for even the simplest of manners?" Snape hissed, his composure found and his intimidating qualities growing once again. "So you're frightened Miss Granger, frightened of what!?"

"Myself." Hermione was on the verge of tears. Suddenly she had an intense feeling of loneliness spurred on by Snapes uncomforting ways. She was sure he wasn't going to coddle her and tell her everything would be ok.

"Yourself? HAH!" Hermione was correct in her assumption. "You've lived with yourself every day of your short measly life. You do not need to fear yourself. In fact it is I who should be afraid, what with your other halves growing dislike for me."

"You did kill him." Hermione justified.

Snape scoffed. "Defending the man you're afraid of? Well I never…you must be pretty terrified."

Hermione gritted her teeth at the sound of his sarcasm and found that anger was available to her once again. "I'm just saying he seems to have a right to hate you! But he's a killer, and he's inside me! I can't work out which thoughts are my own and which aren't! I'm scared Snape, I'm truly scared…" she trailed off into small sobs as she fell to the floor.

"What did you call me?" Snape hissed.

Hermione answered with a louder sob at Snapes unsympathetic tone.

Snape grew aggravated by her sobs and was completely at a loss as to what to say next. He lay there in silence for a short while, listening to Hermiones cries. With a gruff huff he rolled over, facing away from her. "Get out." He hissed quietly through his teeth.

Hermione's sobs were stunted. "What?" She breathed in heavily, pulling her head out of her hands.

"GET OUT!" Snape roared, reaching for his wand quickly and flicking it towards the door. A sudden gust of wind surged through the room as the door banged open. Hermione felt suddenly lifted and heaved towards the door. With no wand to fight back, she felt helpless, allowing the waft to push her through the threshold. Collapsing on the other side, the door slammed in her face.

There were no words to describe how furious Hermione felt. Instead of breaking down into sobs again, she stood up defiantly and began pacing the length of the room. Back and forth she went with heavy feet, thoughts rushing through her mind. She felt indescribable anger for so many people; Professor Snape for his undeniable lack of humanity, Dumbledore for paring her up with the torturous man, Gripes for his invasion of her soul, Harry and Ron for not being there at that very moment so she could vent and her parents for just not knowing.

She smacked her head with her palm a few times, in an attempt to knock Gripes out. She wished she could just take a hook and tug him out. A picture of Gripes, a small, ugly old man holding onto her brain stem as she tried hard to pull him out her nose came to mind. This was an image that would have made her smile if it weren't so close to home.

Her anger and confusion grew as she entered the kitchen, looking for something to take it out on. She opened cupboards to find only two glasses, a few cans of food and a dozen empty fire-whiskey bottles. With a spark in her eye she set herself squarely on the bottles, wrapping her arms around as many as she could and carrying them towards Snapes bedroom door. With a wicked smile she tossed one at the door to the sound of a large smash, to which she clapped her hands in glee. She tossed another and another until she ran out and ran back to the kitchen to collect more.

The floor shone with sprinkles of glass when at last Hermione had smashed all twelve bottles, plus the two glasses and chucked the three cans at the door with the result of three large dents. She danced around, giggling with joy. She felt intoxicated and full of life.

The door suddenly opened and Hermione looked up to see her Professor Horrorstricken at the sight of her. He looked down at the ground and she followed his gaze to find a red liquid spilled all over the floor.

"Oh, my feet…" she whispered as she collapsed into the scattered glass.