Author's Note: time to heal! Thanks to my lovely reviewers, you make me update faster! (hint hint)

"Severus."

His voice twinkled like his eyes and Snape was left with no confusion as to who beckoned him. He felt Dumbledore deposit himself heavily into the chair beside him and glanced up to see that his mentor presently looked every minute of his 150 plus years.

Snape righted and composed himself, feeling peculiarly like he was preparing for Judgment Day.

"Firstly…was your cover blown?"

Snape bristled, but then calmed his breathing. Dumbledore had good intentions, there was no doubt about that, but his concern for the greater good sometimes twisted Snape the wrong way.

"No. I'm telling you now, Albus, I was absolutely ready to out myself to spare the girl. It was Miss Granger who…saw reason."

Dumbledore nodded deeply. "The entirety of the Wizarding World owes her a great deal."

Snape nodded at this. "And half of them are so busy calling her a Mudblood that she'll never get what she's owed."

Dumbledore glanced at the man by his side and held deep regrets that a man of thirty-eight could look so defeated. He held deep regrets, as well, that the majority of that defeat was Dumbledore's own doing.

"What happened, Severus?" the old man implored.

Snape heaved a sigh and opened his mouth to launch a horrifying tale when a new voice halted him.

"I'd save it if I were you, Professor," said Kingsley, his baritone rich but friendly, "unless you want to repeat yourself."

Snape's head shot up and took the Auror in. He wore a smile, but it was a sad one, as though his job was finally taking its toll on his psyche. He was wearing his dark ministry robes and a matching cap that lay flat.

He was on official business.

Snape and Dumbledore both nodded their greetings. "I presume you're here to take the girl's statement, Kingsley?" Snape inquired.

Kingsley's smile fell all together now. "Indeed," he hummed. "Truly awful, that. I'm sorry to hear you were apart of it, Severus."

He meant it sincerely, and Snape waved it away. "Save your sympathies for the victim." He spoke more curtly than he intended, but the man's apology burned.

The door marked "Urgent" swung open now and the same Healer that pushed Snape away walked briskly toward them. "Are you here on behalf of Hermione Granger?"

They all nodded in unison and Snape and Dumbledore both jumped to their feet.

"She'll recover," the Healer began, and a wave of relief washed over the men before her. She turned to Snape now and said, "You were right about the punctured lung. A fragment dislodged from a broken rib. She'll have difficulty breathing for perhaps a month; keep her away from sport. Other than that, the bones healed rather nicely. She's got a fair bit of bruising which only time can heal. I do, however, recommend that she see a therapist."

Dumbledore and Kingsley both nodded while Snape's heart sunk. "How is she doing? Mentally, I mean."

The Healer sighed. "Now that's a loaded question." She led them back towards the chairs they'd just vacated and took a seat opposite them. "She seemed quite all right at first…or perhaps numb would be a more apt description. She was calm until we performed the rape kit, which is a crude and highly invasive Muggle procedure. We've tried in the past to think of better ways to collect evidence but there doesn't seem to be any so, alas, we're stuck being primitive."

Snape nodded and swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat.

"She said nothing, mind you, but…you could see it. Her eyes." The Healer shook her head. "Anyway, you can see her now, if you'd like." She turned towards Kingsley now. "I'll have a full medical evaluation ready for your report when you're through with her."

Kingsley nodded his thanks and the three men were led to room 315. Snape let his elders enter first before biting his cheek and following.

Hermione's face was as pale as the sheets she lay on, save for the bruises that colored half of her purple. A Healer adjusted something that looked like a Muggle IV—Snape had seen something like it before—and left them alone. The door clicked behind her with a feeling of finality.

Hermione was weak, they could see that immediately. Snape glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly 7 AM. They should be letting her rest. Instead, they gathered in chairs around her.

When she saw she had company, the corners of her mouth turned up in an attempted smile and she made to sit upright.

"Please, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his voice as light and as airy as though he was discussing the weather, "don't get up on our account."

She smiled gratefully and slid back down beneath the sheets. Everywhere he looked, Snape saw bruises. He swallowed again and unintentionally met her eye. She nodded slightly, as if to say he needn't blame himself. He nearly laughed; he didn't merely blame himself.

He hated himself.

Kingsley sat in the chair nearest the girl and brushed her forearm. "Hello, Hermione," he said fondly. Snape had forgotten they'd gotten closer due to the Order.

"How are you, Kingsley? It's been a while," she breathed.

"I've been fine, my girl. I know you can't say the same," he said lightly. At this, she looked away and fidgeted. "Hermione, I truly hate to do this to you, but I've been sent to take a statement from both you and your Potions professor. Do you think you're up to answering a few questions?"

Hermione swung back to face him and this time, she scooted up in her bed. "You mean, tell you what happened?" It was apparent that she strived to keep the dread from her voice but it snuck through, regardless.

Kingsley nodded. "If you'd prefer to hold off, Hermione, I'd be happy to return."

Hermione bit her lip but shook her head. "No, no," she whispered, "it's okay."

Snape shifted uncomfortably and it came to his attention that she sat facing all men. If he was in her position, a room filled with men would be the last place he'd want to be.

"If I might beg your indulgence," he interrupted. The two men followed him to the door and just beyond it. "Miss Granger may feel more comfortable in the presence of a woman," he explained, his eyes on Dumbledore.

The Head Master nodded. "Oh, of course, of course. Minerva is awaiting word, I'll fetch," and he was off with a spin.

While they waited, Kingsley clapped Snape on the shoulder. "You all right, Severus?"

Snape glanced at the Auror and shrugged. "I've certainly done worse things for the war effort." He didn't add that this was the worst he ever felt after.

Kingsley simply nodded, nonplussed. A nearby crack indicated Dumbledore's return. This time, Minerva McGonagall scurried in his wake, a witch's hat wobbling precariously atop her head. On their back into Miss Granger's room, McGonagall squeezed Snape's hand but said nothing, for which he was grateful.

At the sight of Gryffindor's Head of House, Snape saw relief flood Hermione's frail body. "Professor," she breathed, and sat up a little straighter.

McGonagall went to sit on the opposite side of the bed and clutched her student's hand. "Miss Granger," she murmured, more motherly than any of the men had ever heard, "I'm so sorry."

Hermione nodded slightly in thanks, and turned back to Kingsley for the inevitable question, and wasn't kept waiting long.

"So, Hermione…what happened?"

-BREAK-

Hermione swallowed hard to keep down the bile rising in her throat. Every move she made hurt. Her thighs burned, a constant reminder of the night she had. The Healers had thrown terms around so carelessly, no one bothering to explain anything more than the fact that she'd be all right, eventually.

When the room was full, she craved solitude. When it was empty, she yearned for human contact. Her mind buzzed a mile a minute, she could not shut it up so to keep from thinking of difficult things, she did Arithmancy in her head and when that failed, she deciphered fabricated Ancient Runes but still, visions of snakes entangling themselves in her hair left her gasping for air.

This was exhausting.

Presently, she was being asked to recall what happened last night. She glanced at Snape, but he was busy staring at the bruises staining her arm. She sighed. "I guess it began in the Forbidden Forest."

Kingsley nodded. "And what were you doing there?"

"Serving detention with Professor Snape. I deserved it," she added when McGonagall sent Snape a glare worthy of the Dark Lord, "I'd mouthed off in class earlier. Professor Snape offered to let me serve my detentions by helping him restock the Hospital Wing's stores, and we were starting by gathering ingredients in the forest."

Kingsley nodded. "So how is it you were suddenly thrust into a Death Eater meeting?"

Snape tensed visibly, but Hermione plowed on. "Well…." She wasn't sure how to begin. "I didn't know much of Professor Snape's role in the war; I knew he must've been some sort of double agent, but I didn't know specifics until last night, when his Dark Mark burned. He told me to forget what I saw and to get back to the castle safely. I turned to go and felt him Disapparate but at the last second, his foot caught my leg and I…I was taken with him."

McGonagall squeezed her hand lightly. It was extremely comforting to have another woman there.

Kingsley nodded, inviting her to continue. Hermione shrugged. "My presence was discovered rather quickly. Professor Snape promised to do his best to ensure my safety. I knew I had to play along if I wanted to live."

Kingsley looked at Snape now. "What was your game-plan, Severus? Did you have one?"

Snape sighed and looked at Hermione when he answered. "I went in blindly, we both did. I had to think fast, and I had two options: I could let them have their way with her, or let them kill her. I chose the one that spared her life."

His voice sounded so dead that Hermione felt the urge to reach out and comfort him but she refrained.

Kingsley turned back to Hermione, who nodded. "Professor Snape and I communicated using Occlumency. I'm not very good at it and I'm sure it was very dangerous for him, but we were able to read each other by thinking of simple memories. He…warned me. He showed me what was to come." She looked at Snape now. "And he did the right thing."

She saw Snape's eyes narrow, but had a feeling it wasn't directed at her so much as a memory.

"In what sense?" Kingsley asked.

Hermione turned her gaze on him. "In the sense that outing himself for my sake would've been stupid. I'm just one person and besides being Harry's best friend, I'm not much of a contribution in this war. To throw his role away for my sake, even if it meant my life, would've been preposterous and would've damned the better part of the Wizarding World. I can't commend that."

McGonagall squeezed her hand again, this time praising her bravery, and Hermione returned the pressure. She glanced at Dumbledore and though his face twisted with regret, he never lost his twinkle.

Kingsley smiled warmly this time. "Very brave indeed," he said. "And then?"

Hermione glanced up. Her mouth slackened, her eyes drooped. "And then they took turns. Seven of them. Including Professor Snape."