Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, I've been on vacation! I'll try to get another chapter out in the next few days, but then I'm afraid there will be another four-five day delay due to lack of internet. My apologies! But as always, thank you to my reviewers.
St. Mungo's was abuzz with midday traffic when Snape returned that afternoon. He'd promised himself, and the Headmaster, that he'd give Miss Granger sufficient time to rest, but he'd finished with his classes by noon and found sitting idly by to be infuriatingly mind-numbing. He reasoned that he'd pop in to see how she was doing—after all, it was he who landed her there—and would simply wait if she was asleep.
Which she was. When the knock on her door went unanswered, Snape opened it cautiously and peered in to find her fast asleep in the very position they'd left her in. She must've been exhausted.
As quietly as wizardly possible, Snape retrieved the chair he'd occupied earlier and sat by the foot of her bed. From such a close proximity, he found himself studying a girl he wasn't sure he'd ever taken the time to look at. Freckles were sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, which was small, straight. Soft pink eyelids hid warm honey eyes, and her eyelashes just nearly grazed her cheeks. What Snape remembered to be a wild, bushy mane had softened into light, silky tendrils which were nothing but becoming. He wondered when this change came about. He wondered why he'd never really noticed.
Then he wondered why he cared so much.
She stirred before his mind got too carried away, and his body tensed. His plan had only gotten him to the hospital, not much further. What was he to say?
He awaited the inevitable opening of her eyes, but several moments passed and all she did was stir. Her arms jerked occasionally, her legs kicked lightly. Her head turned towards him and he saw her brow furrow, the sides of her mouth crease.
She wasn't waking. She was in the middle of a nightmare.
He urged his hands to reach out toward her, but his limbs were unresponsive, frozen. It wasn't until her flailing became violent and her mouth wrenched open in a dreadful scream that his body complied; he reached out to steady her shoulders.
His touch acted as fuel to the flame. Her hands reached up to claw at his, to wrench them away, but his strength outshone hers. He loosened his grip nonetheless so as not to stimulate her panic, and instead took her tightly clenched fist in both hands.
"Miss Granger," he said, and then shouted it when speaking proved insufficient. His voice was enough to cut through her internal horror and her eyes shot open, blood-shot and half-crazed.
"No," she groaned, and shrunk away from him until her mind adjusted to her surroundings.
He tried not to be hurt.
Slowly her breathing calmed and her muscles loosened. She let herself relax back into bed, but kept her eyes trained on him warily.
He swallowed his bruised ego and sat back in his chair, scooting it back just a bit further to give her a little breathing room. "I'm sorry I startled you, Miss Granger," he said rather formally. "It wasn't my intention."
She put a hand to her head and finally shifted her gaze and closed her eyes. He let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.
"No, no," she waved his apology away, "I'm sorry."
Snape furrowed his brow. "For what?"
She studied him for a second. "I don't really know, come to think of it," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Freaking out, I guess. It wasn't directed at you."
He allowed his shoulders to relax, and willed his mind to do the same. "You had a nightmare."
She nodded, and sat up a little straighter in bed. She stared straight ahead but didn't seem to actually be seeing anything. "Usually I'm good at logically talking myself out of nightmares. This time…" She swallowed hard. "I didn't know I was sleeping until I woke up."
Snape nodded understandingly, but his chest constricted. "That's not uncommon, after…trauma."
Hermione twitched at the word.
"Are you all right, Miss Granger?" Snape asked lightly, but leaned forward so that his elbows met his knees. "I don't want bravery, or any of this grin-and-bear-it nonsense you seem to have perfected. I just want the truth."
She cracked a half-smile. "You really can't let things go, can you?" she murmured, but it wasn't aimed to hurt him. He wished it had been. She shook her head. "I'm not sure if I'm all right yet. I am sure that I will be, in time. I'm also sure that I can handle this."
Snape raked a hand through his hair. "I said the truth, Miss Granger," he growled.
She crossed her arms defiantly, but her tone was light enough. "And who says that wasn't the truth?"
He considered her carefully now. "You know, surely, that no one would blame you if you had some sort of melt-down. You are wholly entitled to some sort of tantrum, or any sort of reaction, really. In fact, you can partake in one this instant and I'll swear not to tell a soul."
She stared right back at him, and every hint of having dissipated. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I'm okay?" She sounded grave now, perhaps even bitter, and while part of Snape hated causing her even more grief, quite a larger part was relieved that she was finally showing appropriate emotion.
He kicked his chair away from him and paced the room. "I want very much to believe that you're okay, Miss Granger. You misunderstand me. I just…" He stopped at the foot of her bed, and softened his tone. "I just don't understand how you can be. They violated you. I violated you, in perhaps one of the worst ways physically possible, and yet you face me as though I was never more, or less, than your Professor. I see the same respect in your eyes that's been there every day for the past seven years." He whispered now, not in the least proud of himself. "And I don't deserve it."
Hermione waited for Snape to calm himself before requesting that he resume his seat. "You're right," she began. "They hurt me. You hurt me; I won't deny that. But don't you think it's possible that you're underestimating my strength?"
He opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand which silenced him.
"I can tell you that it wasn't your fault until I'm blue in the face, but we both know it won't reach you if it hasn't yet, so I'll save my breath. What I will say is that wallowing in blame will only drive us both insane." The corner of her mouth turned up slightly to let him know she didn't mean it harshly. "I'm not okay, not quite yet. It's too fresh, perhaps. Nothing's happened legally, nothing in the way of closure. But I need you, and everyone else, to understand that I'm quite a bit stronger than anyone seems to believe. I can handle this, and I will." She lowered her voice and he strained to hear. "Everyone's got to make their contribution in this war. Perhaps this was just mine."
He lowered his eyes to the floor. "You have every right to be upset with me."
"It doesn't mean that I am." She tugged at his arm until he raised his gaze to her. "Professor, if I might…why did you come back today?"
"To see if you were all right."
"Yes, but that could've waited until tomorrow. So what had you so wound up that you felt compelled to pay me two visits in one day?"
He gave up willing her light tone to turn angry, and found he couldn't muster up the effort to lie to her. "I had an interesting conversation with Potter and Weasley today."
Hermione's face paled abruptly, and her mouth tightened. She hadn't considered her friends. "Damn," she whispered, and he got the feeling it was more to herself than it was to him. "Did you…do they know?"
Snape opened and closed his mouth several times before he could find the right words. "They do, but they didn't hear it from the Headmaster or me. They came bounding into his office, asking for you, and we were aptly prepared to tell them you were in St. Mungo's and to leave it at that. Mr. Potter had other ideas."
She let her head fall back onto her pillow, but he continued because he knew if he stopped, it would be for good. "It appears that Mr. Malfoy was boasting to his cronies about what happened to you, just loudly enough so that Potter overheard. He…left your fate in no uncertain terms."
Hermione's eyes widened when she realized what he was saying. "Malfoy's gone running his mouth, and by now, half the school must know. Right?"
Snape swallowed over the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes, quite right. I'm sorry, Miss Granger. The Headmaster is attempting to instill a degree of damage control as we speak, but there's no telling how far the story has spread, so I wanted you to be prepared. You know, when you return."
Hermione nodded, even as she tried to wrap her head around the gossip she knew must be filling Hogwart's stony halls. "So Harry heard?"
"Indeed. Which brings me to the real reason behind my visit, Miss Granger." Snape folded his hands awkwardly in front of him, unsure of how to proceed. "Once the news…sank in, Mr. Potter was quite livid, understandably, but it was Mr. Weasley who was simply beside himself."
Hermione groaned and Snape caught a whisper of, "Poor Ron," under her breath.
"I am here because Mr. Weasley interpreted the incident in a rather disturbing manner. He insisted that my intentions weren't for the sake of the Wizarding World, but were instead fueled by hatred. Hatred towards you." Somehow, the formality with which he spoke seemed unnatural to him when he considered what he was saying.
After all that had been said, this took Hermione a moment to decipher. "You're saying that Ron thought you…that you did what you did because you hate me?"
Snape nodded, and watched her closely. "That's what he believes. So I came to ensure that you didn't share his views." He blinked several times. "I didn't act out of hatred, Miss Granger. I took nothing even resembling pleasure from what I did to you. I hate what I did to you, but I do not hate you. Please believe that."
Hermione turned to him and softened considerably. She took his hand in hers lightly, tentatively, as though not to startle him. A part of his mind balked at how ridiculous it was that she was comforting him.
"Ron's a little hot-headed," she laughed lightly. It was humorless, but it was there. "I know why you did it Professor, and I know you didn't want to. It's okay," she whispered. "I know we've never been particularly chummy, but I never thought you hated me."
It embarrassed Snape how much relief flooded into his body at her words. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Granger."
And between them both, a thread was sewn; unbeknownst to them, a connection was woven through their bodies and served to repair something they didn't know was broken.
AN: Reviews are like candy, and they shall be rewarded!