A/N: So overwhelmed by all the reviews on the last chapter; I'm sorry I don't have time to reply individually to them all, but please keep them coming.

Thanks to my beta AdelaideArcher. Any mistakes are mine.

Chapter 7: Break and Enter

When I'd learned about how the DA was making trouble at Hogwarts while still on the run, and later when we were sneaking into the castle, I didn't think much about how it affected Snape other than being a great pain in his backside. At the time, Snape was still the enemy, an agent of the Dark Lord, and he seemed impervious as the headmaster of the great school.

My mind was changed one night in early October in Snape's time.

It was late at night, and I was already in bed when I awoke to whispers coming from Snape's office.

"It looks different than when Dumbledore was here," said a dreamy female voice. It sounded familiar, but in my sleepy state I couldn't place it

"It's got to be in here. Look around," said a different female voice, and this time knew who it was.

I quickly slipped from my bed, grabbing my wand, and crept out of the bedroom. Snape was standing near the doorway that led down to his office, his wand in his hand, listening intently. I went to his side, hearing nothing but footsteps below us.

"It's Ginny Weasley," I whispered to him, and, realising who the other girl must be, added, "and Luna Lovegood."

"There, in the glass case!" came a male voice from below—Neville. "Shit! It's locked!"

"Get back, both of you," said Ginny, who a moment later quietly whispered, "Reducto!"

There was the sound of breaking glass, and I realised that this was the night Ginny, Neville, and Luna were attempting to steal the fake Gryffindor Sword.

"Gryffindor's sword," I whispered urgently to Snape.

"Stay here," he said, and quickly opened the door, flying down the stairs like a panther stalking its prey.

I knew I needed to stay hidden in the chambers, but I couldn't help but feel nervous at what was happening below. I was somewhat surprised that I not only felt anxious for my three friends, but also for Snape, whose feet could now be heard crunching across the broken glass in the room below as he followed the intruders.

"Stuck, are we?" came his velvety deep voice. There was a shout, and then I shivered as he said, "Hexing your headmaster is most inadvisable, Miss Weasley. I suggest you all return to my office unless you would like to be cursed right here on the stairs."

I willed Ginny not to do anything stupid, and was relieved when I heard bodies moving in the office once more.

"Sit," said Snape, sounding cool. "The sword, please." Another pause, and then, "Now, who would like to tell me why you are out of bed after curfew attempting to loot my office?"

None of the three students said a word in reply, and I imagined they were likely shaking in their seats.

"Longbottom, speak," ordered Snape.

"It was…" Neville paused, "just a prank, sir."

Surely Snape won't believe that. They were clearly looking for the sword.

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Longbottom?"

"No, sir," he said quietly.

"The real reason then," he said.

"I won't tell you," said Neville, quiet but firm.

"Excuse me?" hissed Snape.

"Curse me if you want. Call the Carrows. I'm not telling," said Neville, more loudly this time, and I was really impressed, but also a little scared for him. I knew Snape didn't really want to hurt his students, but wasn't sure how far he was willing to go to protect his careful ruse.

"Detention, all of you," snapped Snape. "Tomorrow night with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. You are also banned from Hogsmeade for the remainder of the year. Be warned that if I catch any of you attempting to break into my office again, I will not be so lenient. Now, unless you really do want me to call the Carrows, return to your dormitories immediately."

There was a scrambling of chairs and feet, and then quiet.

"Dumbledore," said Snape after a few moments.

"Yes, Severus?" said Dumbledore, sounding oddly serene considering what had just happened.

"How do they know about the sword?" asked Snape.

"I expect Miss Weasley is attempting to give it to its rightful owner," said Dumbledore.

"I will have to tell the Dark Lord," said Snape lowly. "He will likely ask me to give it to him."

"Yes, yes, if he does, you must," said Dumbledore calmly.

There were more footsteps and suddenly Snape appeared in front of me. His face was solemn and sure, his body stiff. "I must go. You should return to bed," he said.

"Be careful," I replied, unsure what else to say. Snape gave me a sharp nod, and then disappeared once more down the stairs. I heard a soft pop, and then there was nothing but silence.

I tried to go back to sleep, but found I was too worried about what might be happening between Snape and Voldemort. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd hear a creak or a rustle and shoot awake, thinking it was Snape returning.

I knew, of course, that the fake sword would end up in Bellatrix's vault. I also knew that Snape had the real sword hidden behind Dumbledore's portrait. I knew in the end it would all end up okay. But still I worried for the man who'd left the bed across from mine vacant tonight.

I'd just nodded off into a light doze hours later when I heard a thud and a crash from the sitting room. Grabbing my wand, I quickly got out of bed and exited the room.

I could see only Snape's head from his place on the couch. He seemed to be leaning forward, and let out a hiss.

"Professor Snape? Is everything all right?" I asked, approaching him carefully.

"Go back to sleep," he said as I came around the edge of the sofa to find him shirtless, his chest slashed with open wounds, and holding a bottle of dittany.

"You're hurt!" I said, coming in front of him.

"I'm fine, Miss Granger," said Snape, but as he spoke a large drip of blood seeped out of a deep gash on his chest.

"There must be something I can do," I said. "I'm not very practised in healing spells, but I have plenty of practice applying dittany. I—I could do the cuts on your back for you. Do you need any other potions?"

"Miss Granger, please," he said, sounding exasperated and tired. "I'm fine. Look."

He raised his wand and waved it over the red, wet wounds on his torso, the words "Vulnera Sanentur" coming from his lips in a rich tenor song. The spell was oddly beautiful as he sang it twice more, and the wounds slowly stopped bleeding, then knitted themselves back together until there were only puffy pink lines showing on his pale skin.

He began applying dittany to the wounds as I stood there watching, entranced by the stoic man stitching up his own flesh as if it was no different than putting on clothes or eating breakfast.

"Miss Granger, can you stop staring at me with your mouth open like a fish?" he growled.

"Sorry, Professor," I said, feeling a blush come up my cheeks.

"If you want to be useful, you can get me a Blood Replenishing Potion from the cabinet over there," he said, waving his wand towards a mahogany cabinet in his laboratory, which gave an audible click.

I immediately scampered off, going to the cabinet and finding a small bottle of red potion labeled in a spiky scrawl. Then, thinking his robes were most likely bloody and possibly torn, I went to the bedroom and pulled one of his ugly grey nightshirts from the dresser before returning to his side.

"Here's the potion," I said, handing him the bottle. He uncorked it and swiftly tipped it into his mouth in a practiced motion.

"I also brought you this," I said, putting the nightshirt on the couch next to him. "Would you like me to apply the dittany to your back?"

Snape sighed, but handed me the bottle of dittany, which I recognised as the one I had given him the week before. Moving on the couch so I could sit beside him, he turned his back to me, and I was reminded once more of his trust.

"Did Vol—did You-Know-Who do this to you?" I asked quietly, dabbing the dittany onto a pink line that ran across his left shoulder blade.

"What do you think, Miss Granger?" Snape answered, which I assumed meant 'yes.'

"Does it happen often?" I asked, moving to another puckered mark that ran parallel to his spine.

"Only when he feels we need to be punished or reminded of his control," said Snape. "Thankfully, I am given more time away from his side with my position at the school."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him you don't like his company," I said, to which Snape chuckled softly. I'd never heard him laugh before; it was a lovely rumbling sound from his chest that made me smile in return.

"I'm all done," I said, placing my hand lightly on his back between his shoulder blades. He flinched at my touch, but I let my hand linger a moment. His skin was surprisingly warm beneath my palm, his form thin but muscular under all the scars.

Standing up, I took the empty bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion and the Essence of Dittany and returned them to the cabinet in the laboratory. When I turned around, he was wearing the ugly grey nightshirt, which hung limply over his frame. He really would look better in a t-shirt and sleeping pants, I thought, wondering if he'd completely freak out if I transfigured him a pair.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked, deciding now was not an appropriate time to discuss sleepwear.

"No," he said, sounding tired. "I need to go and speak to Dumbledore's portrait for a moment. You should return to bed."

"All right," I said. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he said, turning towards the door. I headed back to the bedroom, and had made it to the door when I heard him call my name once more.

"Yes, Professor?" I asked, turning to face him. He stood, half-hidden in the doorway, the firelight reflecting softly in his bottomless black eyes.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said with a nod.

"I—you're welcome, sir," I said, smiling and nodding in return, feeling, perhaps, we'd just taken one step closer to becoming friends.