Alright, so I said I wouldn't turn this songfic into an actual story, but I was bored so I decided to. Also, I'm really stumped for my other stories, so yes. Thank you to "kimberly302" for reviewing. Honestly, I didn't think it was review-worthy, but I hope it gets there! Alright, so now onto evil and not-so evil Snape. ;)

Chapter Two

Confined

Hermione awoke to the unfamiliar sound of silence. There was none of the chirping of birds she knew only too well, or the sound of her mother and father talking quietly on the floor below her. She opened her eyes and looked around a strange room; it was exquisitely decorated with a dark wooden wardrobe in the corner of it, a large window to the right with black curtains drawn shut, leaving no room for the sun to shine through. Confused and frightened, Hermione pulled her arms from within the silky sheets she was tucked beneath and was met with a burning sensation in all of her limbs, and her head pounded painfully with every small move she made. She turned her head to the side and a pained hiss slipped through her lips as she reached a hand to rub the spot that felt stiff, shocked when she felt more pain. What had happened to her? More importantly, where was she? You're at home, Hermione, a voice said in her head.

No I'm not, this isn't my bedroom, replied the more stubborn part of her.

Then go figure out where you are, the other voice demanded. In any other circumstance, she would have argued with herself, but she felt frightened; something told her she was not safe here, however comfortable the bed she lay in was. So, gritting her teeth, she hoisted herself into a sitting position, forcing herself to ignore the pain that coursed through her veins, and made herself deal with the pounding within her skull. It took three breaths to steady herself, but even that caused her vision to swim in front of her. She focused on the hardwood floor, which duplicated itself and then faded back to one numerous times. Hermione heaved a great breath and held it in as she stood despite her body's protests. She felt herself teeter on the stop and slammed her hand against the wall. She immediately cried out in pain and looked over, finding it to be wrapped in a white cloth. Even if she didn't remember how, she knew she must have sprained it. A sudden image of her falling down entered her mind and caused her stomach to churn. What was wrong with her? She stood, hunched over with her hand still against the wall and panting. So little done with such exertion! She found herself feeling exhausted when she stood another few steps. Squinting through the dark room, Hermione waved her arms about to try and find the door. She caught the doorknob and twisted it, wrenching the door open, currently too preoccupied with pain to be aware of the fear surging through her body, her heart beating at an abnormally fast pace, threatening to burst through her ribs and free itself from the anticipation of what lay beyond the threshold.

The hallway that greeted her was dimly lit, a few candlelit chandeliers hanging on the walls, flames flickering on each white candle, overthrowing everything into a shadow. The hallway was long, seeming to get narrower the more Hermione looked down it. She took a step and the long, emerald green throw rug that stretched the length of the hall turned into waves.

It's okay, you're just a bit woozy. You've just woken up.

Putting her faith in the voice inside her head, she carried on slowly, occasionally stopping to take a few breaths and let her mind even out the scene before her. What seemed like hours later, she found herself at the top of a great, spiralling staircase. She dragged her hand down the smooth, polished railing as she slowly descended the stairs into a room that smelled so heavily of books and quills mixed in with the rich scent of red wine. The aroma weighing down on her and tightening her chest with each breath she took was enough to make Hermione think she would pass out. She staggered over to the nearest armchair that was sitting by a single end table, shelves full of books upon books lining the walls. If her mind had been in the right place, she would have grabbed one as soon as she looked at it. But the air this strange house had to it told her she needed to find her way out and soon. Her eyes strained in the darkness of the room and she found a door. It was plain black, matching the obvious obscure theme of the place; she looked around and saw the walls were coated in a dark paint as well, accented by a deep green. Feeling a bit stronger now that she had been on her feet for a few minutes, Hermione advanced toward the door and slowly opened it, revealing a pitch black office. Curious, she stepped inside and let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness, able to make out the shadows of a desk and a large candle light in the corner of it. She was certain that the dark outline behind the desk was another draped window. She was reminded of the dungeons at Hogwarts; just like them, the house was cold and drafty, the shadows looming in ominous positions, looking as though they would attack if you stepped too close. However, at Hogwarts, she felt safe even in the confines of those dank chambers. Here, she felt on edge, like someone would suddenly come out of nowhere-

"Miss Granger," a voice said from out of the shadows. Hermione jumped at the sound of her name and turned around, seeing nothing but the outline of a tall, slim man before her. She stayed quiet and still, holding her breath as though that would hide her better than anything. "I see you're awake."

Don't answer him! Hold your tongue, Hermione. Don't say a word! The voice inside her head made her feel sick again and she gripped the edge of the desk for support, knocking over the candle. She bit down on her lip hard when it landed on the floor with a loud crash. He, whoever He was, would know she was there now.

"Tut, tut, knocking over my things now?" the voice hissed and she felt her stomach flip at the familiarity of it. Still, she stayed quiet and instinctively reached for her wand to find it wasn't there. Panic flooded her, when suddenly the memory of the previous night came rushing back to her.

Someone had their hands over her mouth, muffling her screams as they dragged her into an alley way. She squirmed in their grasp, fighting her way back to her house. She had to get out of there!

Deep, stinging gashes appeared over her skin and she screamed, her head spinning and her vision going fuzzy.

Someone knelt over her, healing her as she faded in and out of conscientiousness. They took away her pain, replacing it with a cooling feeling.

She was in someone's arms now, her body limp. She caught a look at his face before everything went black.

"No." Hermione spoke, her voice hoarse and raspy as she came to the realization that the man who stood before her was no help to her. "No, it's you!" She tried to back up again but found her back pressed up against the desk enough already.

"Of course it is me, foolish girl." Snape spoke in a low, dangerous voice but Hermione could hear his sneer in his voice. Hermione searched desperately for her wand, praying to whoever was above that she did in fact have it with her and she hadn't left it in her kitchen.

"Professor, please!" she pleaded, afraid he'd only start what he did to her last night over again. "I haven't a wand! You – you can't attack me!" Snape chuckled, a deep menacing sound coming from deep within his throat.

"I believe you are mistaken, Miss Granger. You see, as you just said, I am your professor, therefore I have authority over you. I can do whatever I please." His voice was cold, sending a shiver rippling through Hermione. She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued in his same dangerous drawl. "However, I have no wish to attack you, Miss Granger." Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"S-sir?" She felt terribly confused and shrieked when his hand suddenly grabbed hers. "Don't touch me!"

"Silly girl," spat Snape. "Do not speak unless you are spoken to!" She nodded silently, and he suddenly pulled her to him and grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, causing her to whimper. "Last night's actions were based purely around the Dark Lord's orders, Miss Granger." Her eyes widened in shock.

"You!" she screamed. "You are a Death Eater! Harry was right! And all this time, you've been at the Order meetings!" His grip on her jawline tightened.

"Hold your tongue!" he yelled. "As I said before, I acted on the Dark Lord's actions, Miss Granger. If you wish, I can easily give you up to him, however, it is beyond my knowledge why he would want you." Hermione felt a sting at his words, even though it was better if Voldemort didn't want her.

"Your only other option is to stay here," Snape continued, dropping her to the floor. Hermione landed with a grunt and forced herself to stand up just as Snape opened the door to large reading room she had found before. He ushered her out and followed, slamming the door loudly behind them. Can't he ever just shut them quietly, thought Hermione, jumping at the sound. She turned around and was met with the clear view of her Potions professor: he stood leaning against the door, arms and legs crossed, the black cloak he wore falling to the floor, his long black hair shielding his eyes from view, but Hermione knew they were staring her down. She shuddered and suddenly felt very intimidated by him. It was like a predator watching its prey, planning the best way to catch it. As if trying to hide herself from view, she brought her own arms in front of her, her not so sore hand holding her bad arm. She saw the corner of his mouth turn upwards in a smirk, and her heart rate increased.

"Sir," she started and then clamped her mouth shut. Snape stayed quiet, his smirk staying in place.

"Smart girl, you are," he said in a low voice. "You may speak." Hermione gulped. How did he stay so still like that?

"Professor, I was just – I was just wondering why ... why You-Know-Who ordered the a-attack on me?" She looked down at her feet and drew a circle with her socked toe, looking away from his eyes – or rather, his smirk.

"He … believes you would have information on Potter," Snape said slowly. "Which, of course, you do. Therefore, he thought if I were to torture you into giving it to me, his plan to, forgive me, kill the boy would go … better." Hermione stared at him, clearly outraged.

"You didn't ask me any questions. Sir?"

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," replied Snape, not standing up straight, folding his hands behind his back. "For which you should be thankful for," he added in a sneer. Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"Of course, thank you, sir, for ripping apart my chest before healing me! It improved my life so," she said, the sarcasm in her voice drenching her words. Snape only smirked at her now, and stepped to sit down in one of the green arm chairs and went on as if Hermione had not uttered a word.

"The Dark Lord is under the impression that Potter will be moved to a safe house on the thirty-first of July-"

"Which he will be!" Hermione shouted, but went silent when Snape held up a hand.

"Miss Granger, are you too dim to not know when someone is speaking, or have you no manners?" Hermione looked down once more and nodded in apology. Snape continued, "When he no longer has The Trace on him. Which house, however, he does not know. I simply told him you had no idea. However, if he found that I had healed you and brought you here instead of leaving you to die in the streets, he would torture you into death, but not before getting all information on Potter."

Hermione stayed silent for several moments before looking up to Snape. "Thank you, sir," she whispered, rubbing her sprained wrist.

"Yes, it's all very nice," he sneered, crossing his legs and resting his chin upon his hand. He set his cold stare on Hermione, letting his eyes roam over her from bottom to top. Hermione looked down and went bright red, realizing she was only wearing a pair of short pyjama shorts and a rather revealing tank top. Of course, it had been late when he had captured her. She supposed he had wished she would have been sleeping.

"Sir!" she exclaimed, and a rather wickedly amused smirk crossed his face. Hermione glared at him. "Sir, my – my clothes are all at home…."

"The wardrobe in the bedroom you were in is charmed to suit your needs." Hermione wondered for a moment if the pun in his words had been intended, or if it was just her silly mind at work. Without another word, she turned and walked as fast as her sore legs would carry her to the room she had woken up in. There she opened the large wardrobe, and peered into it. It was completely empty, and for a moment she considered asking Snape how it worked, when her clothes appeared, along with her wand. She picked it up gleefully before setting it on the desk beside the wardrobe. She chose a warm gray sweater with a pair of simple blue jeans and clean socks. She dressed herself and walked back downstairs, wanting to ask Snape if there was a potion he could give her for the head ache that had now turned into a migraine, throbbing painfully around her left eye. He was no longer in the reading room, however, and Hermione wasn't sure where she would find him in this house. Sighing, she sat down in the arm chair he had previously sat in, and looked around at all the books he had. It was this room in particular that made her feel more comfortable, and for some reason, she found herself wishing he was there with her. The fact that he had saved her and Harry's life – once again – made her feel that she wasn't entirely in danger, however awkward it was to be in her professor's house. She thought back to his story and wondered for a moment if it might have been a lie, something to gain her trust and finally when she was all into it, give her up to Voldemort. She shuddered at the thought and pushed it away from her mind. Her eyes wandered over to the books lining the wall again and she got up, deciding it was best to keep her mind busy. She dragged her finger along the dusty bindings, skimming the titles for something that popped out at her. She became frustrated – they were all about potions or Dark Magic, none of which she wanted to read about, but decided it may have to do if were to survive here. She picked a particularly thick tome on a higher shelf and nearly toppled over when it finally sprung free from the restrictions of the other books. She caught her balance on Snape's desk, her hand hitting a flask of purple liquid and knocking it to the floor, bringing a few quills with it. She gasped and dropped the book, the wind it created sending papers flying all over the place. Hermione stared at the mess she had created in horror. It was the second thing she had knocked over in one day in Professor Snape's house. If Voldemort didn't get to her first, Snape would surely kill her.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Hermione scolded herself and bent down, reaching for her wand and groaning out loud when she found that she left it upstairs on her bed. She really needed to stop doing that. She considered running up there quickly to grab it, but the throbbing in her head reminded her that her strength wasn't what it usually was and so she sat on the soft rug, frowning at the purple potion. No ideas came to her, and when she looked around for a cloth or a source to soak up the liquid and saw none, heart sunk horribly and she was overcome with a fear that Snape would torture her in his own ways as a form of punishment.

"Think," she told herself and looked on his desk. She stood up and quietly opened the drawers, looking for something to clean up the mess with, when suddenly a pale, long-fingered hand rested over hers. Gasping, Hermione turned and looked back to see Snape standing behind her, looking down at her with one eyebrow raised. She hadn't even heard him come in!

"Miss Granger," he said. His voice was slow and calm – the tone he used when she answered too many questions in class, or someone did something to make him mad. It was controlled, quiet and threatening. "Are you … looking for something?" He added pressure to her hand – her sore hand – and she winced in pain.

"S-sir, I … well, yes…." She bit her lip and glanced over to the purple potion pooled beside his desk. His black, stony eyes followed her gaze and widened for a fraction of a second before turning back to her. They questioned her and at the same time, dared her to speak.

"Ex…plain," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Hermione swallowed hard, telling herself she was a Gryffindor, and this was definitely the least of her worries. The most he would surely do was yell at her and lecture her.

"I - I didn't know where you were, sir, so I thought it was best for me to just stay in here," she started, wanting to move but he stayed with his hand clasped over hers, trapping her. "I grabbed a book, and I suppose it was too high up for me to grab without difficulty, and I … sort of tripped and knocked over … your potion…." There was a silence before Snape whispered in her ear, his voice deadly.

"I would be careful next time, Miss Granger, some potions are lethal and-" here he wiped some from finger that she had not noticed, "-and harmful to skin. Consider this a lesson to you. Next time, stay out of other's things. Now, clean it up." Hermione shivered against his body and he finally moved away, conjuring some paper towels for her to use before sweeping from the room, his black cloak billowing behind him.

~SSHG~

If it wasn't apparent already, Snape seemed to be very concentrated in whatever he was doing. He made sure Hermione was in the same room as him, and as a form of her punishment for spilling the potion, he wasn't letting her do anything. They were in the office where Snape had first found her trying to become invisible. While he worked at his desk on what she assumed were things for school, she lounged about on a sofa she hadn't noticed before. It was terribly comfortable, and she had grown weary from her pain. She forced her eyes to stay open as she stared up at the high ceiling. It was silent except for the soft scratching of her professor's quill, which didn't help her fatigue. It was very calming to her, and she struggled to keep her heavy eyes from sliding closed.

"Professor!" she suddenly yelled, and his writing stopped and she heard his quill drop. For a moment, she thought she might have frightened the man. She glanced over and stared at his back and the stillness of his figure.

"Miss Granger," he replied coolly, slowly turning around to face her, fixing her with a glare that drained all confidence from her. "Is there a reason for your yelling?"

"No, sir," said Hermione quietly. "I hadn't meant to yell, sir." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well then, I expect you to take more care next time, it does not do well for a student to yell at her professor – especially, Miss Granger, when he is in the middle of planning first classes." Hermione bit her lip and nodded as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sir, if – if you would allow me to read…. Or, perhaps, I could lend a hand…." Snape stared at her, his coal-like eyes boring into her own. Hermione stared back at him, forbidding herself to let him get to her. Finally, his lips curled into his infamous smirk.

"Tell me, student, why I would let you help plan my classes? So you can make it easier for your little friends in the years below you? I'm not a fool." His words cut into her like a piece of jagged ice.

"Sir, I never – that never even cross my mind…. Please sir, I'm terribly bored."

"Are you always bored, Miss Granger, or do you take pleasure in annoying others with your silly little complaints? Perhaps next time you are bored, you won't go into other people's things! Now, silence!" Snape turned around started writing at a faster pace. Hermione smirked to herself, knowing she had provoked him and suddenly got an idea. If he had fun punishing her, then she would make a game of it too. Laying back down, Hermione heaved a great sigh and blew it out, making a loud sound with her lips that reminded her of a horse. She peeked over the arm of the couch and saw his quill stop moving in what she hoped was agitation. Snape sat still a while before writing again, when Hermione sighed once more, to which Snape ignored. Sighing again, Hermione got a better idea and started to hum a soft tune to herself. She noticed right away the effect it had on him: she watched with great satisfaction when his knuckles went white as he gripped his quill tighter, the scratching furious now. Hermione burst out laughing, ignoring the pain it inflicted upon her sore ribs and abdomen. This seemed to get to Snape more than anything as he stood and whipped around. Hermione didn't see the deadly glare she received but certainly felt the iron-like grip on her arms as she was pulled up and pinned up against the wall. Her laughs turned into groans of pain.

"I – said – silence," Snape growled in her ear, gripping her arm tighter. She yelped as she felt his nails dig into her skin and squirmed, kicking her feet which her above the floor.

"Let me go," she pleaded, grabbing at his own arms now as the same terror she felt last night crept into her veins again.

"Do you understand the definition of the word 'silence', Miss Granger?" His voice was low and terrifying again. Hermione adverted his eyes as she nodded vigorously. It didn't seem to be enough. "I asked you a question, stupid girl!"

"Yes!" she sobbed, kicked her legs against the wall. She let out a scream as Snape closed the space between them to stop her, his weight crushing her chest.

"Answer me, you insolent witch!"

"I – I just did!"

"What does it mean, Miss Granger?" Snape forced her to look him in the eye, his face livid.

"No – no talking!" she gasped through her tears.

"Or?" His voice was calm now, laced with poison.

"Or humming or laughing!" she yelled, trying to push him away with her hands, moaning when she felt the sprained one snap. It throbbed and an excruciating burning slid its way up her arm.

"And what was it you were doing, intelligent girl?" She shivered at his whisper, leaning her head back as she gritted her teeth against the pain.

"I was defying you!" She squirmed and cried out when her hand shot more pain up her arm. "Sir, I'm sorry! Please – please let me go! My hand…."

"Is your hand hurt, Miss Granger?" asked Snape, his voice mocking her. She didn't care; she nodded and let more tears slip through her closed lids. Snape suddenly let her drop to the floor and grabbed the hand that was already hurt more.

"Ouch!" screamed Hermione, trying to pull it free but was pulled through the office door and down a long hallway that led off the reading room. Snape stayed silent and ruthless as he pulled her through. Various paintings on the wall turned to look at Hermione, one woman in particular. She had long, flowing black hair with piercing black eyes that reminded Hermione of Snape. However, they were not empty or lugubrious like his own; they held a twinkle and she offered a small smile to Hermione, one which at the moment, Hermione was unable to return.

"Sit down," Snape instructed once they were in another room and pointed to a table in the middle of it. He let go of her hand and roughly pushed her toward it. Hermione stumbled toward it before hopping onto it, holding her hand to her chest as she looked around. It looked like a small version of Snape's Potions classroom, only without the desks and chalkboards. There were potions of all different colours in differently shaped and sized flasks all organized along the counters, some emitting fowl smells and others puffing out strangely tinted smoke or steam.

Hermione followed Snape with her eyes as he busied himself at one of the counters, his arms moving quickly and carefully. Finally he turned back around and walked over to her with the same white, gauzy cloth that was wrapped around her wrist in one of his hands, a potion in the other. Hermione swallowed nervously and eyed the liquid that swished around as he walked closer to her. His eyes were still blazing – he wouldn't be so angry with her that he'd poison her, would he? Of course not, Hermione, you're being stupid, she thought to herself. Snape stopped and loomed over her.

"Hold out your hand," he demanded, setting the potion down beside her. "And don't knock that over." Hermione glared at him and hesitated before giving her hand to him. She expected him to be rough and flinched when his cold hands touched hers, but his touch was gentle and light as he unwrapped the bandage from her. Hermione let out a gasp when she saw a large scratch across the back of her hand. Snape ignored her and carried on. He waved his wand to alleviate some of the stinging of the cut and disposed of the old bandage before wrapping the new one around her wrist and hand. "Too tight?" he muttered when hearing Hermione's sharp intake of breath. She shrugged, trying to be strong and brace the pain, but her face showed different. Snape smirked and unwrapped it and re-wrapped it again, this time making sure it was a little looser. Hermione stared at him while he worked, utterly perplexed by his change in behaviour. Not five minutes earlier had he slammed her against a wall violently. Now, he was taking care of the injury he had inflicted. It was either because he felt bad (which Hermione highly doubted) or he had a conflicting personality disorder….

"Thank you, sir," she said, letting her hand fall into her lap. Snape said nothing. He handed her the potion with a raised eyebrow.

"Drink it," he ordered. Hermione looked at the potion suspiciously and then back at him.

"What is it?

"A pain-relieving Potion, Miss Granger," he said impatiently, as if that was the hundredth time she had ask him. Hermione nodded slowly and took the flask from his hand and raised it to her lips. She sniffed it carefully and coughed at the stench. Snape sighed and placed a hand beside her as a warning. Or, that's what Hermione perceived it to be. Quickly, she drank the potion and finished with a gasp for air, her head swimming momentarily as a sick feeling rose in the pit of her stomach. Snape seemed to be watching her with amusement. She shuddered from the sour taste.

"That should help with any pain for now, Miss Granger. If, however, you start to feel sick ... Well, I suppose that would be a problem, indeed." He smirked at her as he took the flask and levitated it to the sink with his wand and charmed it to clean itself. Hermione glared at him. He was clearly enjoying the nauseated look on her face with some sick amusement.

"Is that normal, sir?" she muttered, keeping her eyes on his face. It was the only thing in the room that seemed to stay as one thing.

"Is what normal, Miss Granger?" he asked, a chuckle following his words.

"Feeling dizzy?"

"Well, no, Miss Granger, I'd say not in everyday life. After taking a potion like that, then yes." Stop mocking me, you've done enough. Hermione wished she could say it out loud, but she knew she'd only be punished again. She stayed quiet as she slipped off the table, grabbing the edge for support. Snape watched her carefully, before turning and walking toward the door. He held it open for her as she steadily walked out and started down the hall, feeling awkward with him behind her. She could feel his eyes on her.

Hermione passed the portrait of the lady again and turned to look at it. "Is that your mother, Professor?" she asked, causing him to stop abruptly and sneer.

"Yes," he muttered, now standing beside her. Hermione looked at the picture in awe as the woman gave her another friendly smile.

"She's beautiful," she whispered, wondering how such a lovely-looking woman was a mother to such a miserable man.

"Yes, of course," Snape muttered and gave her a gentle push. "Tippy should have dinner ready, so let's carry on, shall we?"

"Tippy?" Hermione asked, quickly walking forward. She had no idea which way his dining room was.

"My House Elf, Miss Granger," replied Snape slipping past her to lead her into another finely decorated room with a large, long table set up in the middle. It was a dark oak wood with eight tall chairs on both side, and two grand ones at each end.

"Oh," said Hermione, staring at the two plates that sat at either end. Snape crossed to the other one and sat down. Hermione quickly did the same but did not touch her food as Snape started eating his. She watched him for a moment, noticing he had quite the manners. He took a sip from his goblet and looked at her.

"Eat, Miss Granger," he said. Hermione picked up her fork and poked at her food, feeling his eyes on her once more. She looked up and nearly jumped at the intense look he was giving her. It was like he was trying to force her into it. Again, she wondered about the poison but quickly pushed the thought away.

"Sir, I'm not so hungry…."

"Eat your dinner," he said in a firmer tone. "It will … help." Yes, like poisoning me would help me, Hermione thought and instantly wished she hadn't. Snape seemed to give her a strange look and placed his fork down.

"I most certainly have not poisoned your food, Miss Granger." Hermione jumped and let out a squeak, remembering that he was a skilled wizard in the power of Legilimency. "Believe me, if I had any wish to kill you … I would have done it by now." Hermione felt herself go pale and swallowed hard as a smirk formed over his lips again.

"Sir, I didn't think you would…."

"Yes you did. Now, eat, Miss Granger. There are no snacks in this house." Hermione nodded slowly and silently tasted some of her food. The piece of roast beef nearly melted on her tongue, making her mouth water it was so delicious. Her eyes popped in shock and wondered if this Tippy elf could give the Elves at Hogwarts a run for its money. She heard Snape chuckle and begin eating himself. She had a sudden urge to shovel the food into her mouth as her stomach gave a low growl, but resisted it. That would have been terribly rude and embarrassing.

They ate their dinner in complete silence, Hermione purposely taking the time to chew her food well and finally finished her goblet of pumpkin juice. She wondered if Snape drank it, or if his would be full of something more extravagant like a red wine. She sat and looked at Snape who was now reading the Daily Prophet.

"Sir?" she said timidly. He looked at her over his paper. "May I be excused?"

"Where to, Miss?"

"I'm rather tired…. I would like to sleep." Snape raised his chin and looked at her and merely nodded.

"Do you wish to have a Dreamless Sleep Potion, Miss Granger, or will you be fine?" Hermione stood up and gently pushed her chair in as a little elf scurried by and took her plate. Hermione smiled gently and thanked the elf, who looked shocked and terrified for a moment before nodding and bowing deeply to her. Snape rolled his eyes at her and cleared his throat, demanding an answer.

"Thank you, sir, but I'm sure I'll be alright. Those can be addicting … I don't like using them."

"Very well, then. Good night, Miss Granger." Hermione offered him a smile but when it wasn't returned (why did I even try? she thought), it felt awkward and faded from her face,

"Good night, Professor." She turned then and hurried from the room and to the one she was going to have to call hers for the time being. As she dressed for bed, she wondered what her parents were doing in Paris right now. She wondered if they would watch the sunset together from on top of the Eiffel Tower where her mother had wanted to eat dinner. Hermione sighed and lay in the bed, pulling the thick, silky sheets around her shoulders and laying on her side. She stared at a shadow on her wall for a while and wondered what her parents would do when they came home and she wasn't there. It was summer … she should have been home, safe and sound in her own bed in her own house. She closed her eyes and felt tears run down her face. She was obviously safer here, but she wasn't comfortable being alone with her Potions Professor for so long. Sniffling, she forced herself into sleep and thought of a few questions she would have to ask Snape in the morning, the most important one being what was going to happen to her parents. If Voldemort was after her, then he would surely find her house. She wouldn't be there, but her parents would.

~SSHG~

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I realize this chapter didn't have much point, but I was bored and at a loss for my other ones, so I thought I'd just write it :) Review? It would really be appreciated! Thank you :) XOXO.