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Severus paced his room. He was amazed at the effect the girl had had on him. His lips tingled where they had touched hers and his body trembled with need. She had shaken him to the core without actually doing anything. If he hadn't known before what kind of power Granger had over him, he knew it now. He had to have her. He needed her with every cell in his body. And he would do anything to keep her safe.

Because he loved her.

Severus groaned with frustration. It took all of his effort not to go back in there and confess everything to her. And make love to her. He knew better. And he was practiced at denying himself things.

He sank onto the bed, savoring the memory of her soft lips and how sweet her mouth was. It was the most agonizingly wonderful thing he knew. And he could not keep himself from imagining what it would be like to do it again. He unbuttoned his trousers and slipped a hand inside. This has been all her fault, so he didn't feel guilty allowing himself this one.

Hermione awoke with her face pressed into the carpet. She had cried herself to sleep. Looking back, she wasn't exactly sure why she had cried except that it had all been such a serious assault on her emotions that she couldn't sort it out. He had lied to Lucius about her. Then, he had basically fed her the same story to cover his lying to the blond man. What was to say it wasn't a lie, too?

But he had no reason to protect her from Lucius Malfoy unless he did want her in some capacity. She supposed it would make sense for him to want her sexually, even if he didn't care about her or sympathize with her cause. Perhaps that was all he had ever felt for her, even when she had thought they were friends.

But if that was the extent of his feelings for her, why hadn't he taken her into his bed by now? Just the thought made her shiver, but it wasn't from fear. Hermione was fairly certain there was more to the story. She couldn't delude herself into thinking he was just too decent to do such a thing. After all, this was the man who killed Albus Dumbledore.

Later that night, Hermione found herself completely bored out of her mind, and Snape's bookshelf was warded against her removing any of the books. Damn him! She idly wandered over to Phineas Nigellus's frame. "Hi Phineas," she said simply. With her eyes she begged his understanding of her position. She certainly wouldn't bother the grumpy Slytherin if she weren't desperate for conversation.

"Granger," he acknowledged. But that was it.

"So..." she continued stubbornly. "I guess you've probably told Professor Snape about how I kept asking after him while I was away…" The portrait sneered at her.

"Actually, no." She gaped at him.

"No?" she said, relieved.

"No." he repeated unhelpfully. She was not dissuaded.

"Why not?"

"Because it hasn't been to my advantage to do so, yet." Of course.

"Well, could you possibly not tell him? It might make things a bit… awkward…"

"And what concern is that to me?" he said slyly.

"Well… is there some way I could get you to agree not to? Something you want?"

"I will agree not to share that particular tidbit with him, if you agree to do whatever I eventually decide to make you do as payment." He grinned wickedly.

"Oh come on, that's not fair. How do I know you won't make me do something awful?" she pleaded.

"You don't. But can you really imagine anything I would make you do that would be so terrible? You're confined to Severus's quarters, for Merlin's sake." Hermione considered this. It was always risky dealing with Phineas, but she supposed it would be worth it to ensure that Snape never found out about her late-night chats with the portrait.

"Alright," she agreed finally, "It's a deal."

"Good," Phineas replied maliciously. There was a moment of silence. Hermione bit her lip, looked around the room for something else to do, then turned back to the portrait.

"So…" she began again, "do you have a lot of portraits?"

"You must be really bored, Granger."

"I am!" she admitted. "He's warded the bookshelf!"

"Perhaps," the Slytherin conceded, "but he has not warded the desk." Hermione's heart leapt with excitement at his words and she ran over to the desk. She had just assumed that it would be warded. Glancing over the desk, her fingers practically itched to go through his drawers. But they wouldn't open. She looked up at Phineas with what must have been an expression of extreme disappointment and the portrait rolled his eyes. "Not the drawers, Granger. The books!" She blinked. There were books on top of his desk and he hadn't bothered to ward them!

She looked through the stack and realized that they were all Occlumency books. How odd. Severus Snape was already the most accomplished Occlumens there had ever been. What did he need with Occlumency books? Unless he had purposefully left them out and unwarded for her to read. Nah.

Choosing the most advanced book (she had already read the other two during the months they had been travelling), Hermione relocated to Snape's own favorite armchair. It was rather satisfying to sit in his chair and read his book and imagine his face when he came back to find her like this.

When he finally returned to his chambers, however, Severus Snape only sneered at her. "Making yourself at home, Granger?" he growled.

"You can hardly blame me. Boredom was driving me mad!" Snape just raised an eyebrow in that mocking way of his and went to his bookshelf to choose a book for himself. She was surprised that he didn't even ask what book of his she had gotten ahold of. Perhaps he knew. She couldn't stop the sneaking suspicion that he wanted her to read the books. Did he want her to learn Occlumency?

Snape chose a book and came over to her chair. "Up." He commanded. She knew he was demanding the use of his favorite chair, but she looked up at him in utter confusion, suppressing a laugh at his subsequent scowl.

"Pardon?" she inquired sweetly. Oh, he was not going to stand for that, she knew. Reaching down, he gripped her forearm with a punishing roughness and yanked her out of his seat. As he comfortably settled himself in her place, she had no choice but to relocate to the couch, but she made sure he saw her rebellious grin.

For a little while they remained there in companionable silence, reading their respective texts. It felt strange, like old times; like before. Then, suddenly, she heard his sharp intake of breath and looked over to see him clutching his left arm. In an instant, he was up and headed to his bedroom. Hermione felt herself stand to follow him, her heart beating fast, but then he was back, wearing Death Eater robes. She recoiled from him just as he tossed floo powder into the fireplace and shouted out his destination, "Malfoy Manor!"

So Voldemort was at Malfoy Manor… interesting. That was information that she was surely not meant to have. In fact, she felt the compulsion to ask his permission before giving out that information. He could be in a lot of trouble if someone found out that he had leaked it to her, however unintentional. But she quickly suppressed it. This was information that the Order could use, and she found herself flying to the notebook to tell Harry and Ron.

Crash! Bang! Clatter…clatter… SMASH! Hermione's eyes flew open at the sound of someone stumbling through Snape's office. She had fallen asleep in his armchair, practicing some Occlumency techniques, and someone was definitely trying to break in! She ran over to the door, wand drawn, to try to identify the intruder. What if it was Neville? Should I let him in? She was torn.

But the deep voice moaning in pain on the other side of the door did not belong to Neville. Professor Snape! He was clearly in pain and could not seem to be able to make it into his chambers unaided. But what could she do? The door was warded against her!

"Professor?" she cried against the door, "Is that you?" he only groaned and it wasn't exactly in response. "Professor, you've got to let me through the door! I can help you!" but he didn't seem to hear her. Hermione could feel her blood pumping through her body in anxious helplessness as she banged against the door. "Dobby!" she cried out, remembering the last time this had happened. The elf appeared obediently and she asked him to bring Professor Snape inside. A moment later, Hermione was running to Snape's bedroom where the elf had placed the injured wizard and immediately casting diagnostic spells to determine his ailments.

This time, it was more than just Cruciatus. Her professor was bleeding from various parts of his body, broken bones were visible through his skin, and his nose and mouth were bleeding. Hermione had to suppress her panic as she ordered the elf to bring her a number of potions from Snape's supply. Tilting the man's head up and using her knee as a prop, Hermione coaxed the potions down his throat. Snape was going in and out of consciousness. He helped her with the vials when he could, but otherwise she was on her own.

Suddenly, his body seized up and began to shake. She cried out in worry and sympathetic pain as she tried to hold him down. One fist smacked her so hard across the face that she fell backwards off the bed. Even the stun of that blow couldn't keep her away for long. She returned to his side, wand drawn, and began to mend the many broken bones. This process was difficult as it meant that he needed to be still, which he wasn't. However, she found that a few soothing words and her hand on his cheek did calm him a little.

The diagnostics proved that there were more broken bones than she could see and she hesitated before magically stripping him of his clothes, being careful to leave his underwear. That elicited a growl from the Potions Master who was apparently a lot more coherent now than he had been. "Granger!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry, sir! But you've got a lot of broken bones and I can't mend them if I can't see them!" To her surprised relief, he relaxed back against the bed. She worked through two more fits of convulsions to mend his bones before turning her attention to the gaping wounds in his leg and shoulder. She had given him plenty of Blood Replenishing Potion, but needed to be sure that there was no organ damage before she healed the skin. That was why she had done bones first. Diagnostics only revealed internal bleeding in his stomach and she knew a potion for that, which she sent Dobby for as she healed his other wounds. The muscles of his shoulder had been ripped, so those had to be worked on first, but a dash of dittany did the trick and Dobby was back with the potion. She tipped it into his mouth and he swallowed obediently, trusting her. Or perhaps knowing the potion and that he needed it.

"Sir," she said hesitantly, "I need to turn you over." He glared at her, but with a flip of her wand he was on his stomach and he made no more complaints as she set to work on a large strip of his back that looked to have been whipped with something. He hissed in pain and directed his anger at her, but she ignored it. This was for his own good and he knew it.

When Hermione was finally satisfied that her professor had been treated to the full extent of her ability, she handed him a glass of water and a vial of dreamless sleep. Snape obediently drank the water, but refused to take the sleeping potion. "You have to, professor. You need rest, now."

"No," he growled, his voice rough, "I cannot afford to be left unaware like that."

"Severus Snape," she shouted in a tone reminiscent of Molly Weasley punishing a twin, "you have to rest. You are not going to heal properly unless you get a lot of sleep. Now, I will be here to wake you if anything happens, but you cannot afford to lose sleep now." She met his eyes in stubborn relentlessness and he scowled back.

"Insufferable chit!" he managed through a fit of coughs, "You don't understand the risk I would be taking!" She lifted her chin.

"Yes I do! And that is exactly why you have to take the bloody potion!" He squared his jaw, but said nothing, only continued to glare at her. She lightened her tone, "Please, professor. I will make sure nothing happens while you are asleep. And if it does, I promise to wake you up." She saw his expression soften slightly and knew she had won.

"I have your word on that, Granger?" he demanded.

"Yes, professor," she said softly. "I swear to it."

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