HG

She colored and cringed.

"...You heard that?"

"Yes. I did." I said nothing else while I waited for her explanation. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but I needed to know. I didn't believe that she was of unsound mind, especially now that I had spoke to her at length about her attacks. But it was imperative for me to find out if she had warped me into some romantic hero in her mind as a coping mechanism. And if she had, how it would affect her. I had no desire to cause her further harm by enabling a fantasy. If it had been a coping mechanism, it had been effective and I would not judge. But it needed to end if we were to work together.

"It didn't start until after the war," she began. "I'd always talked to mum, just in case she could hear me. I had told her about you over the years, of course. Mostly how much I was determined to show you I could succeed. To prove myself to you. Yours was the only class I was truly challenged in, because you never accepted anything less than absolute perfection, even in the most difficult potions. And your classes were even more of a challenge because I couldn't just follow the recipes exactly. Your potion text that Harry used is proof of that. Great potion making requires trial and error. It requires you to question the status quo so to speak. And that forced me to think outside my comfort zone.

Once the war was over, I told her about how much I understood about you once the truth came out. How much sense everything made. Your demeanor, your lifestyle, all of it. I...I felt sorry for every time I'd ever thought badly of you. I tried to defend you to Harry and Ron when we were younger, but I'm ashamed to admit that the night Dumbledore died...I believed that you had truly left the light."

"That was the point, Miss Granger," I interrupted softly. She shook her head.

"I should have known better. You deserved that much for all the times you'd protected us. I should have questioned it. I should have figured it out. And then, when it was all said and done, you seemed to withdraw from the world. I didn't blame you, but I couldn't help but want to know you better. I told mum all the things I wanted to ask you. When things got really bad at home, I imagined what the answers would be. What you would say to me. One thing led to another. I wanted to be the one you opened up to. To care for you... and I wanted you to be the one to care for me. Because you have always protected me. And I thought...you...if you knew, you would protect me. You would never hurt me. It started out as idle daydreams that I would tell mum to distract us both from what was really going on. And it evolved into this fairytale fantasy that I told her as much for my sake as hers.

I know its ridiculous. You don't need to tell me. I know that you aren't a knight in shining armor who came to rescue me. I'm not a damsel in distress. A man like you wouldn't want a woman like me, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to expect you to spend your life protecting me. It just eased some of my pain to be able to pretend, even for the few minutes that I would tell the stories to my mother, that it was all true. That we had ended up together and I was blissfully happy with you. I'm sorry I used you like that. I never thought you'd ever find out."

She spoke the last few sentences in a rush, clearly ashamed of herself. I felt my heart twist again. How much abuse could my heart take at once? It was exactly what I'd feared, but I couldn't fault her for it. She'd needed a safe haven, even if just in her own mind. I could not begrudge her that. She knew that it wasn't real. She knew that I wasn't some prince charming. And then, some of her words sunk in. I looked up at her, startled.

"What do you mean a man like me wouldn't want a woman like you?" I knew I spoke more sharply than I intended, but I couldn't help myself.

"I..." She shook her head, clearly thinking the answer obvious. "You know what I've done. Of course you wouldn't want someone like me. Its not like I would have anything to offer someone like you."

"Before I tell you just how stupid the sentence "you know what I've done," was, tell me, precisely what do you consider "someone like me?"" I lifted one brow at her. She colored slightly and cleared her throat.

"You know. You're...you. The hero of the wizarding world. Brilliant, loyal, fierce. Headmaster of the best wizarding school in the world. And now that Dumbledore is gone, you're probably the most powerful wizard alive." I lifted the other brow in surprise. She thought me more powerful than her beloved Potter? As if she could read my thoughts, she continued. "Not that I don't think Harry will rival you in skill and natural talent when he gets a little older, but for now, your experience and knowledge puts you leaps and bounds ahead of him. Any woman would be lucky to have you. Not that I think you would put stock in such petty things."

"You are right about that, at least, Miss Granger." I leveled my gaze at her and spoke deliberately. "First I will tell you what an utter fool you are if you honestly think that you can classify your attacks as 'what you've done.' You didn't do anything. It was done to you. The former implies fault. The latter does not. Second, as for your classification of "someone like me," I cannot conceive of what has put those ideas into your head. You and I both know I am no hero. Anti-hero possibly, but I will never be considered a hero, no matter what the gossip rags say. I will not discount my intelligence, nor my loyalty. Both have been proven. As for fierceness, I would say that your peers would consider my nature more akin to savage or cruel." I held up my hand to stop her when she would protest. "And in the matter of who would be more powerful, I shan't presume to even guess. Let us pray there is never any cause to ever find out." I knew that Potter couldn't hold a candle to my knowledge and expertise in dark spells and curses, but the boy certainly had a knack for survival. "Now, I would like to turn your words against you, since you seem incapable of seeing yourself properly. Any man would be lucky to have you. Do not for one second think this is idle flattery, Miss Granger. I assure you it is not. Despite what has been done to you, you handle yourself with a grace and poise beyond your years. Your brilliance is unrivaled in all the history of this school. You spoke of heroes. I challenge you to decide how long Potter would have lasted against the Dark Lord without you to aid him. You know you are beautiful now that you've grown into adulthood and those ridiculous teeth. Even if your hair is still a horrendous mess most of the time."

She reached up and touched her hair, a small smile playing on her lips. I wondered if she believed me. And even if she did, if she could truly take my words to heart. I assumed that she already knew the truth of what I said intellectually, but convincing herself to believe them in her heart was another matter. It wasn't the kind of thing that five minutes with an old professor could fix. It would take a long time to undo the years of emotional abuse she'd suffered and regain her confidence. I could only hope that I would be the tip of the iceberg. That I could start her on her way.

"Do you really believe those things about me?"

"I am not a man prone to false sycophancy, Miss Granger. You should know better than that."

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the crackling of the logs and the hiss of the flames. I wanted to know what she was thinking, but after the things I'd seen in her mind before I wasn't prepared to risk legilimency. Instead, I waited. I am very, very good at waiting.

"Severus?" She finally whispered my name. I turned my attention away from the fire and back to her. She drew her knees up to her chest, still keeping just barely in contact with me. For lack of something better to do, her fingers toyed with the hem of her jeans. "Do you think...that someone like you...and someone like me..." She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. I considered making her spell it out before I answered, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I sighed.

"Miss Granger, you do not need a man to come save you. You need time to heal. You need help to regain your confidence and start you life over. I can offer you those. You have built me up in your fantasy as someone who can rescue you from all your troubles. As some perfect partner for you. Not only am I far from perfect, but it would be a gross abuse of my position to take advantage of your...fantasies about me. You are vulnerable and impressionable right now. I would be a bastard of the worst sort if I allowed you to become attached to me romantically."

"I guess I'll always be that bushy haired know it all from your potions class," she murmured with a dejected sort of smile.

"You haven't been that little girl for quite some time in my eyes. I do not look at you and see the chit who couldn't keep her hand down in class to save her life. That has nothing to do with my answer. I see you as the beautiful, talented woman that the rest of the world sees. But that does not change the situation."

"If we lived in another world, where I hadn't been...where I was whole and untouched, where you had never needed to save me and I had never needed to invent my fantasy...?"

"I find you frustrating, impossible, too generous for your own good, insufferably smart, and much too pretty for my liking." I sighed. "In the world you spoke of, you would be just the sort of witch I was irresistibly drawn to." It was true. Spirits help me, it was absolutely true. If I wouldn't be taking horrible advantage of her, she was exactly the type of woman I would want to try to woo and win. Not that I would know the first thing about wooing a woman. Or what I would do with her once I had her. But she drew me the way catnip draws a Kneazel. She grinned. "But no matter what would become of this," I gestured between us, "in another world, we live in the real world. And if you feel you cannot work with me because of...your coping mechanism, I will assign you to Minerva or Poppy. I do not wish to stall your healing further by facilitating a fantasy."

"No, sir. I can handle it. I know reality from fiction and I won't let it get in the way."

"Very well then. I suggest you retire for the night then. Its been a long day. I suggest you use the rest of the week to do any additional studying you think you might need. If all goes as I hope it will, your NEWTS will be this weekend, and you can begin your assistant duties next Monday. Does all that sound satisfactory to you?" She nodded eagerly. I couldn't help but warm to her enthusiasm, but of course I didn't let it show. "Off to bed then."

She rose, started toward the door and then stopped. I worried for a moment that she might try to kiss me. But when she turned, she didn't move to take a step towards me.

"Sir, could I trouble you for a Dreamless Sleep potion?"

"Of course," I replied, headed to my stores. "I will give you a small supply if you can assure me you know the dangers of its addiction."

"Dangers of its addiction?" Her voice was oddly serene. It gave me a strange sense of foreboding. I paused with my hand on the cabinet door, looking over my shoulder at her. But what was the cause of my unease?

"Dreamless Sleep is dangerously addictive. Becoming dependent on its use can be harmful and potentially deadly. Aside from the danger of becoming addicted to any substance and the consequences of withdrawal, the body begins to crave the emptiness Dreamless Sleep provides. The brain can turn on itself and stop functioning fully in order to try and return to the Dreamless state. If left unchecked, Dreamless addiction will begin to cause lapses in attention, loss of focus, loss of will to live, and eventually Living Death. A state of perpetual Dreamless Sleep. And after a time, the Dreamless Sleep even stops the mind's ability to regulate unconscious functions such as breathing. The body shuts down." My words made her shiver, but I didn't want to sugar coat it. It was simply too dangerous not to tell her all the possibilities in the starkest light possible. Her mind was too brilliant to waste to Dreamless addiction.

"I see," she murmured. I took a few bottles of the potion from the cabinet and handed them to her. "I will use them sparingly then. Do you have any suggestions for alternatives?"

"If you mean other ways to get rid of the nightmares, I cannot suggest any constructive options. If you find any, feel free to share them with me. I shall do the same. For now, I've found a quiet walk on the ramparts works best." I didn't add that sometimes I debated on just walking off the edge and into oblivion. She didn't need any more darkness in her life. "And if...if you need to talk, floo to my study. I shall leave the pass open to you." What possessed me to offer that, I don't know. The words were out before I could consider them. Somehow, her smile of gratitude made it all worthwhile. I only hoped I felt that way when she was flooing into my study at two a.m.

"Thank you for everything," she said softly.

"You are welcome. Goodnight, Miss Granger."

"Goodnight Severus."