The day passed slowly until Hermione found a small collection of books in the corner of their room, presumably left by the Marauders years ago. Another pile of rubbish had obscured them from her sight and initial check of the room.
"Sir," Hermione cheerily started, "I've found some old books. Would you like for me to read? It could make the time until night pass more quickly."
Snape's mouth made its usual sneer, then, "Oh, why not."
Later on, Hermione investigated other rooms in the shack when they grew tired of her recitation. She found a small cache of food that Sirius had left when he lived there during her third year. With that, Hermione prepared a light lunch then dinner for them before they ventured out back to the castle. Hermione led the way; Snape held her elbow as she worked her way back through the tunnel between the castle and the village's haunted house. Every now and then, she would have to caution him to duck his head.
"You know that was more than what Lupin did for me after you children knocked me unconscious," he mused.
"Oh, it wasn't Remus that had you in tow. It was Sirius," she relayed as they walked along. "Remus kept hold on Peter Pettigrew. And I am very sorry for that, sir."
Snape merely grunted.
"Well, we had to do something before you killed him. You know that now, don't you, Professor? It was Pettigrew who betrayed the Potters, not Sirius, all along," she tried to defend Harry, Ron, and herself.
Again Snape merely grunted. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Snape hitched a bit of panic back down.
"What is it? What do you see?" he hissed softly in her ear after pulling her close.
"I see a man who lives in the past who needs to live in the 'now.' I see a man who holds grudges long past their due. I see a man…" she began.
Snape stiffened, and in doing so, hit his head on the wall. He spat, "Yow! See what you made me do!"
"I made you do!? You did it to yourself," Hermione countered. "I'm not a first year that you can intimidate any more. I came of age three years ago. And by the way, blaming others for your own deficiencies is not exactly a winning strategy... Now let me see that," she remarked flatly as she reached up to his head.
He growled deep in his chest as she brought his head down to see the damage. She growled back at him as deeply as she could.
"Not funny, Miss Granger. Not funny," he snapped and jerked his head away.
"Do that again, and you'll hit your head again," she replied, smiling.
She felt the knot starting to rise and charmed it away, "Better?"
Again he growled low in his chest before pronouncing, "Better."
She secured his hand back on her elbow before teasing him, "You know that growl of yours is quite attractive in a feral sort of way."
His eyebrow lifted before he grumbled again, "Watch it Granger. You're playing with fire here."
"Again, I'm not a child any more, Professor. I graduated two years ago and am now Professor Vector's apprentice and will finish that this year. So, I hardly think I'm playing with you," she commented softly then paused. "It surely must be difficult to see us as adults when you've known us as pre-teens and teenagers. How did Professor McGonagall change how she saw you and treated you when you came to teach so shortly after graduation?"
"Mostly, I stayed in the dungeons and kept to myself," he replied quietly, mulling over what she had told him.
"And when you resurfaced, poof, you were an adult in her eyes?"
"Why are we talking about this?" Snape demanded.
"Give us something to do while we wander back to Hogwarts?" proffered Hermione lightly.
"Are we there yet?" Snape wondered.
"Nearly so," Hermione responded.
A few more minutes and she stopped, "You stay here. The entrance to the Whomping Willow is just up ahead a few more feet. I'll take a look around and if it's safe, I'll take you to the castle. If not, we'll go back to the Shrieking Shack and devise another plan."
"Fair enough. You don't need a blind man on your arm if you have to move quickly," he started then pulled her back to himself, "Don't do anything foolish as Potter would surely try. We need each other if we are to survive this."
"Professor," Hermione began again, "Harry was the one who stopped the bleeding and saved your life on the battlefield. Harry is not James. He really is a pretty pleasant person if you'd ever bothered to get to know him and give up living in the past."
"The past is all I have," Snape fought back.
"You're wrong, you know. You don't have the past; it has you," she turned and started away.
"Miss Granger!" he called.
She turned back and looked at him.
"Be careful," he paused. "Please. I'd not like to see anything happen to my 'Gryffindor know-it-all.'"
He gave her a slight smile, which she returned. She moved back to him and lifted his hand to her face so he could feel the smile. His fingertips glided across her mouth where she had placed his hand. He understood her gesture of friendship and relaxed as much as he dared.
"I'll be right back for you," she spoke tenderly. "Before I do, let me start to heal your hands."
Hermione moved her wand over his abused hands and spoke some healing spells, "It's a start. We'll do more healing later, once we get you safely back to your rooms at Hogwarts."
"Thank you," he whispered.
Snape closed his eyes and slumped against the stonewall and waited for Hermione to return. Fear welled up in his chest. He tried to control the rise of the least helpful of his emotions.
Hermione looked around the door that led outside, darkened her wand, then extended it at the ready for a fight. Cautiously, she eased the door open and peered suspiciously around its corners. She stopped to listen; hearing nothing, she eased her way upward. She was still below the tree's swinging arms; she'd already had one bad experience with this magical tree and was not up to another one any time soon. She craned her neck to survey what had been the battlefield. Hermione thought that she saw some movement but could not make out who it was. She ducked back into the safety of the dark passageway.
Hermione was back to Snape in a flash, "I could see somebody out there, but I could not tell who it was. Whoever it was it was too small to be Hagrid. If I had stopped the Willow from slashing to and fro, it would have given away that we are here. What do you think we should do, sir?"
Snape was pleased by her prudence, "Excellent analysis, Miss Granger…"
"I think you can call me Hermione," she paused, "don't you?"
Snape was silent, mulling it over, "Very well. Perhaps, we should remain here for a while longer and then take another look?"
"I have no particular desire to go back to the Shrieking Shack any more than I suspect you do, sir. So, yes, let's do that," Hermione agreed.
Snape sank to the floor and drew his long legs up closer to his body. His arms hung limply by his side; his head rested on the stone behind him. Hermione followed suit, but tucked her legs under her arms and rested her chin upon the table they formed.
After only a few moments of silence, Hermione stated, "I'm scared, Professor. What will we do if 'he' has won?"
Snape did not move, "We will die painful deaths, that is what we will do."
"Such a comforting thought," she remarked sarcastically.
Snape's lips twisted into a smirk, "It would seem I've rubbed off on you."
"How do you mean?"
"You are as cheerful as I am and every bit as sarcastic. Not a Gryffindor trait, I might add," he said.
"You haven't exactly left much room for optimism, sir," she rebutted.
He sighed, "No, I don't suppose I have."
More silence ensued to be broken again by Hermione, "Do you suppose anybody will be looking for us? I mean, we could apparate away from here, get some brooms, and make our way to the continent or perhaps to North America, Canada, maybe?"
"I know the Dark Lord will be looking for me. I'm sure that Death Eaters have combed the dead and injured looking for my body. When they did not find me, they will continue to hunt me down. I suspect it would not be a good idea to be found in my company, Hermione," Snape offered. "Besides, as I am blinded, I do not think a broom would be a good way to travel."
She scooted a little closer, "Well, if you had any ideas of my leaving you behind and escaping by myself, you may as well put them away. It shall not happen. We are both in the Order and we will…"
"Will what?" he growled. "Will tend an old blind wizard until he's overtaken by Death Eaters? I can assure you that the Dark Lord will put me to death in front of you. Before that, his 'friends' will each rape you in my hearing. We will both suffer greatly before death comes to claim us both. No, I think it best if you and your Gryffindor scruples abandon me to my unhappy fate."
"If he has won, you mean," she tried to be hopeful. "And if he has won, I will still not abandon you. We may not ever be good friends, but I have always admired you. I only lost trust in you for a short time after the Headmaster died. When you contacted me, I just knew that you were still good."
"Hermione, it's been quite some time since I was good," Snape replied softly. "In any event, I will not have you squander your life on my account. You are a brilliant witch with a future ahead of her. I'm a broken old wizard with nothing but bitterness, a bad temper, and an even worse past. I'm hardly worth your time and trouble."
"I'll be the judge of who is worth my time and trouble, sir," Hermione retorted.
"Gryffindor pride," he grumbled, "will get you killed."
"Maybe so, but I'll go down fighting and with someone I respect."
"Respect? Why on earth would you respect me?" he wondered aloud.
"Other than the undeniable fact you are one of our world's leading Potions Masters, I'd say it's because you had courage enough to admit when you were wrong and make amends. And that goes beyond your bravery in facing 'him' and spying for us," she offered. "It takes real courage to admit when you're wrong and even more to try and make it up."
He growled a bit.
"And I cannot begin to imagine what you have been through when you have to go 'his' meetings," Hermione continued. "When I was in school, you were a brilliant Potions Master – far beyond Slughorn. When he came, things went downhill in Double Potions. I missed your potions classes terribly, even if you delighted in personally humiliating me. I always learned something from you. It's not that you weren't a great teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, because you were. I know how much you wanted us to be prepared for the war; I'm just sorry it turned out this way."
"Thank you," Snape said ever so softly, realizing that his work had not been for nothing all those years.
This time he broke the silence, "You were a bright student, and I apologize for insulting you on a fairly regular basis."
"Apology accepted," was her response. "So why did you insult me?"
He smirked, "Because of the company you kept."
"It wasn't because I am a 'Mudblood'?" she asked.
"I don't use that term any more," Snape quietly responded. "It no longer has any meaning for me, and it probably never should have had a place in our world. It was a dreadful mistake. I deeply offended someone whom I loved with that term, and I lived to regret it deeply. It was a very long time ago, and she is gone now. I have since erased that word from my vocabulary. Who your parents are should not matter. The Headmaster is quite correct. What you do with your talents is all that matters."
"So why does Malfoy use it so liberally," she stated.
"Because his father is a bigot," Snape said, "and a fool."
"If the other side has won, he'll be the next Minister of Magic," she declared. "Then where will people like me be?"
"Dead or ill-treated 'pets' of the Dark Lord," Snape told her.
"No, thank you," she spat back. "I'll go down fighting first."
Snape fiddled with his wand before saying, "You want to take another look around?"
Hermione got up, dusted off, and headed back to the hidden door.
"Same problem, sir," Hermione regretted to say. "This time I saw several people wandering around. Perhaps we should go back to the Shrieking Shack and try again tomorrow night?"
"Yes, perhaps that is a wiser course," Snape sounded reluctant.
Hermione led them back. She worked on his hands again. He thought they still did not feel quite normal yet. They still felt rough and thick to him, not sensitive as before. His hands and nose were his life. Certainly his eyes could tell him if an ingredient was prepared properly, but so did his hands and nose. He could not brew until his hands felt like his hands again.
"I'm rather tired, sir," she stifled a yawn.
"Yes," Snape replied. "You need not fear anything from me, Hermione. I will not touch you, just as I did not touch you last night."
"Never thought you had or would be in any way unseemly," she smiled with her voice. "I have always found you to be quite proper."
"Thank you," with a slight smirk, Snape cocked his head to the side. "Where is the bed? I'm afraid I'm a bit disoriented at the moment."
Hermione took his arm and led him around to where he had slept before. Putting his coat across a chair and kicking off his shoes, he stretched out and then rolled on his side away from where Hermione would lie down. Hermione tucked her back into his back and extinguished her wand, which she clutched to her breast.
"Good night, Professor Snape," she offered softly.
"Mmmm," he responded.