Thank you so much for reviewing my story! I can't tell you how much it means to me to hear what you have to say. Even the critical reviews, I absolutely treasure. In fact, I've been keeping my laptop in one of the few spots in the house where we're staying that gets internet and running up to it between games of Rummy to check my email, so thank you so much for giving me something to read when I do! Anyway, the story continues! I hope you enjoy it!
True to her word, Hermione Granger stayed up all night watching her old professor sleep. He looked so peaceful lying there that she refused to think about anything that had happened between them. For one night, he was just the man she had learned to admire, and who had just come from a meeting with the dark lord, where he had obviously been tortured brutally. How he had even managed to reach his office was beyond her ability to comprehend.
She leaned over him, brushing the hair from his face, basking in the knowledge that he had trusted her enough to take a potion that would render him completely helpless until the morning. Trying to imagine their situations reversed, Hermione realized that she would have trusted him as well.
She would have trusted him. Well, that was odd. After everything that had happened… No, I'm not going to think about it!
But it soon became very difficult not to think about. Why was Voldemort so angry with him? she wondered. Hopefully it hadn't had anything to do with her telling Harry and Ron where Voldemort was currently residing. Without leaving Snape's side, Hermione summoned the notebook to her only to see that Harry and Ron had not yet replied.
Why would anyone choose to be loyal to Voldemort when he tortured them like this? Was her professor really so power-hungry that his eventual elevated status would be worth this level of pain? Especially considering that it was by no means guaranteed that the torture would end after the war. Severus Snape was such an intelligent man compared to the imbecilic thugs who generally flocked to the dark lord. Even Lucius Malfoy was having second thoughts on the matter, so she couldn't believe that Snape wasn't. Not when his position meant this amount of agony.
And yet, he had killed Dumbledore. That was something she really struggled with. She couldn't look past it, but it seemed like such an outlier compared to the rest of the evidence. In mathematics, usually outliers were thrown out as exceptions. If it was disregarded, she would definitely believe that Snape was on their side, given the evidence. But it was a fact that she could not discount. Albus Dumbledore had been murdered by Severus Snape. Harry had given her vivid enough descriptions that she had to believe him. And it couldn't have been someone else using Polyjuice, because she knew Snape had joined the fight and no one else had any other account of him in it except to run up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.
Hermione groaned and looked down at the sleeping man. He looked so peaceful. She was tempted to curl up next to him and fall asleep. But she had made him a promise she intended to keep. And also he would probably kill her if she snuggled up to him again. Or else, he would play his you-belong-to-me card and have to do something about the fact that she was in his bed. Why did she feel like that was a ruse? His kiss had certainly been demanding enough to be believable. He wanted her, of that she was certain now. But he hadn't taken her. And therein lays the difference. Would a Death Eater capable of murdering a friend hesitate to take a woman he desired into his bed? The puzzle-pieces just didn't fit.
Severus Snape slowly became aware that he was sleeping. The hazy fog seemed to lift just far enough to allow a low light to penetrate his eyelids. Since his bedroom had no windows (being underground generally means no sunlight) he knew there was a light on. Granger, he recollected as he shifted in the bed and realized that he was positively aching from the dark lord's ministrations. He lifted his heavy eyelids slowly enough to adjust to the onslaught of light coming from the lamp beside his bed. And there was Granger, sitting in a chair next to it, reading.
"Granger," he growled in a voice much rougher than he had anticipated, "I'm in enough pain as it is. Must you insist on torturing me more with that damn light?" Through his squinted gaze he saw her eyes widen in fear as she jumped up to turn off the light. When he was blissfully blanketed in darkness, Severus allowed himself to slip into slumber once more.
When he awoke again, he felt much more rested, if a little groggy. His body still ached and his head throbbed but he felt as if he had passed the crest of the healing process. From here, the soreness would only get better. "Granger?" he inquired into the darkness.
"Yes?" came her whispered reply. She was still sitting in the damnable chair, despite her inability to continue reading. He wasn't sure if that touched him or infuriated him more.
"Water, headache potion, strengthening solution, and send for Dobby for something to eat. I'm starving." He heard the girl's cautious movements and added, "and you can turn on the bloody light." She only hesitated for an instant before the lamp was burning into his eyelids once more. Severus rested his eyes while he waited for the potions. If she hadn't been there last night, he mused, he would feel a hell of a lot worse right now. But he'd be damned if he'd let her know that.
Granger returned with the potions and water and he blinked against the light to drink them without her assistance (she kept trying to help him and it was driving him mad). "I'm not a child, Granger. I can take my own potions." He heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'you sure couldn't last night,' but it was so low that he let it slide.
"Dobby," she called out into thin air. The elf appeared immediately and looked expectantly at the girl.
"Yes Miss Harry Potter's Friend?" he said. Severus groaned.
"She has a name," he called out, interrupting the chit's request for breakfast. Dobby just turned to look at him in surprise. Well, he wasn't going to allow him to call her 'Miss Harry Potter's Friend.' He might have to strangle the elf if it continued too long. "It's Hermione," he finished. As he said the name, he noticed her wide-eyed expression locked onto his, and he realized that he had never called her by her first name to her face. The sound of her name from his lips was like music and he imagined it may have had a similar effect on her because her cheeks were now tinged a little pink.
"Sorry Master Professor Snape, sir," the elf said before turning back to the blushing witch, "what is Miss Hermoninny wanting to eat?" he asked innocently. Severus groaned.
When the girl had sent the elf for their breakfast, there was a sudden uncomfortable silence. The air seemed heavy with thought and Severus wasn't exactly sure what needed to be said. He realized that protocol generally meant that he should thank her for something, but the thought was unbearable, so he dismissed it. Then he realized that they were not supposed to be on good terms and perhaps she was only waiting for the right moment to slip away from him.
"Sir," she said at last, startling him from his reverie. "What happened last night?" Her voice was so serious and full of such concern that he did not even consider lying to her.
"Well…" he began, his voice still rough from the potions and the sleep and the screaming, "I was called to the dark lord's side. Turned out he was not calling a full meeting of the Inner Circle. Rather, he wanted a private audience with me. Unfortunately, someone had informed him that Potter had been sighted at Hogwarts and the dark lord was not pleased that I had failed to capture him." Hermione gasped. He looked over at her to see if he would be able to read her thoughts in her expression, but was immediately distracted by the large, purple welt on the side of her face. "Good God Granger! What did you do to yourself?" he gasped painfully. Her hand immediately flew to her cheek as if she had forgotten all about it, and pressed against the tender skin. He saw her wince and knew it must be painful. Why had she not used a bruise salve already?
"It's nothing," she said simply, turning her face so that the bruise was faced away from him.
"It is anything but that, Granger. Let me see it." With that, Severus sat up and reached for her, pulling the hand away from her face. It was large and nasty, with purple swelling and blue patches that spoke of extreme tenderness. He ran his own long fingers over it so lightly that they barely touched.
"What happened?" he demanded. She bit her lip and tried to look away, but he stopped her. Suddenly the answer was clear. "I did this, didn't I?" She gave a little half smile that told him he was right and then hastened to assure him that it wasn't so bad, really.
"You couldn't have known what you were doing," she was saying. But he was struck with a sudden rush of remorse and silently summoned a jar of bruise salve into his hand.
"Here," he bit out venomously as if that could cover the fact that he was helping her. "Put salve on it you daft girl. Are you a witch or aren't you?" He thrust the jar into her hands and she smirked at him knowingly as she removed the lid and began dabbing the goo onto her injured cheek. Insufferable chit. The sight of the orange paste covering half of her face made Severus laugh maliciously. Then Dobby returned with platters of breakfast foods, and Severus belatedly realized that he was still dressed only in his underwear. And Granger hadn't batted an eye. He groaned internally.
Hermione was glad when Snape finally left to attend to his duties as Headmaster once more. She had brewing to do today and couldn't afford to wait around forever for him to leave. As she was working on the Wolfsbane, she was in such a good mood that she found herself humming. Well that was odd. Her professor could have died last night. And also, she had no real reason to believe that he was still on their side.
But she felt it anyway.
When the brewing for the day was finished, Hermione felt her spirits dampen slightly at the loss of something to work on, but she knew there was an Occlumency book waiting for her in the other room. Setting the potion aside and Disillusioning it, she headed through Snape's bedroom toward the living room.
As she approached the door, however, she heard voices. For a moment, her heart sank at the prospect that Malfoy had returned, but an ear at the door revealed the other voice to be Phineas Nigellus.
"Well, it's bloody frustrating!" Snape was saying.
"I would have thought you'd be used to it by now," the portrait replied.
"Being accustomed to something does not make it any more bearable," her professor countered.
"Some would argue that point. How bad could it be? I would have thought the man had already reached the pinnacle of horrible demands from you." Were they discussing the dark lord? Hermione leaned closer. This information could be important.
"And I'm still suffering for that one! Knowing the old man, however, he'll find some way to surpass his own cruelty." Old man? Hermione had never heard anyone refer to Voldemort in such a way. Could they be talking about someone else?
"What is he demanding from you now?" the older Slytherin asked.
"Oh he has no new commands for me at the moment, but he continues to try to tell me how to do my job! If there was anything good about his death, I would have thought it would be that he would stop bloody bothering me! But oh, no. If anything he has more chains around my neck now that he's dead! And believe me; if it wasn't for the fact that he still holds all the cards, I would do everything in my power to remove that damn portrait from my office!" What?! Surely they couldn't be talking about… No. It couldn't be!
"Don't be foolish, Severus. It is impossible to remove those. Believe me, at the beginning of his tenure Albus tried to remove me, himself! And if Albus was incapable, forgive me Severus, but I cannot imagine that you would succeed where he failed." There was a moment of silence. Then Snape spoke up in a dry, irritated voice.
"Yes and believe me, he has already been sure to tell me so, himself. Insufferable old man!" Hermione withdrew from the door in a rush. It was likely that her professor would Obliviate her if he knew that she had overheard their chat. He had certainly gone through extremes to ensure that she had no idea. She flew to the potions lab and pressed her back against the door, gulping down gasping breaths of air. Her heart was throbbing painfully in her chest which was constricting around it. A lump formed in her throat as her mind began to comprehend the implications of this new information. Suddenly, Hermione felt she could no longer stand, as her knees had gone weak and she felt faint. Giving in to the crushing revelation she slowly sank to the floor in wracking sobs so heavy that she could not breathe. Could it be? Could it really be? If Professor Snape was taking orders from Albus Dumbledore's portrait, that could only mean one thing: he was on her side. Her heart was elated with joy at the prospect at the same time that a sharp pain stabbed at her chest with the knowledge that she could not tell him that she knew.
The tears continued to fall until there were none left. She wasn't even certain whether they were tears of joy or pain. Both, I suppose. If anything, she admired her professor more for keeping such a horrible secret from her. She wanted to run to him and hold him to her and tell him it would all be alright. She wanted to protect him from everything and make him feel loved.
Another pang went through her heart as more tears sprung to her eyes. He was on her side. And that meant that she could finally acknowledge her feelings for him without feeling guilty. And it was absolutely true. She loved him. She had loved him for a very long time, but had only allowed herself to realize it right now. But after this war, she would never let him leave her side again.
Hermione dried her eyes. It would not do for the Slytherin to see that she had been crying. Slipping back into his bedroom, she ascertained that he was not in the living room before grabbing her book and climbing into his bed to read. The scent of him enveloped her in a peaceful haze as she held the book to her chest, imagining the way he would hold her one day. A smile on her face and a dream in her heart, Hermione Granger slipped off to blissful sleep.
Well? Well? Whaddya think? :D Are we a little happier now?