Hermione let herself be guided down through the halls of Hogwarts, the place she had called home for the last six years.

It was funny how only a year earlier she had returned to the castle with open arms, yearning for some sense of normality in what felt like a chaotic time. She hadn't known true turbulence then. Not really.

A year ago she understood her place in the world. She was sure where her loyalties lay and knew exactly what she would do to protect those she loved. A year ago she hadn't expected a man with dark eyes and a sharp tongue to have such a grip on her sanity she would be willing to give up everything for a chance to be in his presence again.

It had almost been worth it; the pain and the terror of being caught on the Hogwarts Express.

Professor McGonagall gave Hermione's shoulders a squeeze as they came to the Fat Lady's portrait. The Head of Gryffindor had been quiet the whole way to the common room, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. Now the woman stopped and took a step back, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she peered at Hermione over her spectacles.

'I cannot begin to imagine what you have been through tonight. I am so deeply sorry that you have been treated in such a way.'

Hermione offered her a weak smile. 'I appreciate your help, Professor McGonagall. I'm fine though, truly.'

It was a lie, of course. She had been far from fine since the night Snape had killed Dumbledore. She seriously doubted she would ever be fine again.

McGonagall gave her a sceptical look but didn't push the issue, for which Hermione was grateful. After everything that had transpired that evening, she couldn't bear the thought of her normally severe professor showing too much tenderness.

'I shan't ask why you're here,' McGonagall said, her eyes flickering towards the portrait. 'I trust that everyone in the Order is safe?'

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck to ease some of the gathering tension. Bill had told them that they had severed contact with McGonagall at some point in July when she had returned to Hogwarts. 'We lost Moody.'

Sorrow briefly crossed McGonagall's face.

'And your friends…'

'I was telling the truth,' Hermione said guardedly. 'I really haven't seen him since Bill's wedding.'

McGonagall nodded once. 'Well Miss Granger, I shall leave you here for the evening. The password is Galanthus nivalis. I expect your housemates will be eagerly awaiting your arrival.' A wry smile touched her lips. 'Mr Thomas was particularly vocal about your absence from tonight's feast.'

Warmth spread through Hermione's chest for the first time that day. 'Thank you again, Professor McGonagall.'

The older woman stopped her before she could climb through the portrait hole. 'Miss Granger… as you may have surmised, I fear this may be our most difficult year yet. Know that whatever happens, there will always be a cup of tea waiting for you in my office. The same can be said for any of my students, regardless of their house.'

Touched by her kindness, Hermione dipped her head and took a deep breath before climbing through the portrait hole.

She was greeted by a fairly empty room on the other side. Normally the common room would be buzzing with students keen to catch up with friends. Instead only a few stragglers were left. In the corner huddled together sat Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus.

Neville caught her eyes as she entered, his face breaking into a wide grin. 'Hermione! You're okay.'

A great ginger ball jumped off his lap and circled around her feet. Hermione scooped up Crookshanks and buried her face in his fur, allowing his familiar scent to ground herself.

'He went absolutely ballistic on the train,' Dean explained, 'Are you sure he's just a cat?'

Hermione scratched Crookshanks' back and sat down next to Seamus. She glanced around at the small group, cataloguing the bumps and scrapes. 'Is everyone alright? I saw Lavender go down during the fight.'

'She's fine,' Dean stated. 'A little shaken up, but her and Parvati went to bed not too long ago.'

'Good,' nodded Hermione. 'That's good. I'm glad you're okay.' She could feel the tension leaving her shoulders knowing her friends were safe. 'That was incredibly stupid, all of you! You shouldn't have fought back like that.'

Seamus rolled his eyes. 'Oh come off it, will you?'

'We weren't exactly going to let them take you,' Dean pointed out.

Hermione pressed her mouth into a firm line. 'I was holding my own just fine.'

'Can't you just say thank you?' Ginny spat, standing up. 'You're not the only person the Death Eaters took tonight!' She stormed up the dormitory stairs.

Hermione's face paled as she turned to the others. 'What does she mean? You said everyone was okay.'

Neville shifted and glanced nervously at Dean. 'They gave the muggle-borns a hard time when we arrived at the station.'

'They questioned us,' Dean explained, rubbing his wrists. 'They wanted to know if we were loyal to You-Know-Who.'

'What?'

Dean nodded. 'Agree that you believe you're nothing but trash, and they'd let you in. Disagree with their notions about the Dark Lord and they'd snap your wand on the spot.'

Her stomach sank.

'It gets worse,' he continued. 'If you were of age, well…' Dean shuddered violently.

'The Dementors take you,' Seamus said.

Crookshanks gave a warning hiss as Hermione's fingers tightened on reflex. He jumped off her lap when she untangled herself from his fur. 'How many?'

'We don't know for sure, but two Gryffindors had their wands snapped,' said Neville.

'Who?' She was almost too scared to know.

'Rebecca Moon and Mathew Darcy.'

Her throat was dry and scratchy. 'I helped Mathew with his charms homework. And… Rebecca has a younger sister who was sorted into Hufflepuff last year, doesn't she?'

Seamus took a deep breath and turned on the sofa to face her full-on. 'Hermione, they took Justin Finch-Fletchley.'

Hermione gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth. 'Oh god.'

'None of us were there, though apparently the eejit swore up and down that they'd be sorry when Harry got to them,' Seamus said. 'Where is Harry? Ginny wouldn't say.'

She shook her head, her mind filled with visions of Justin's curly blonde hair and the poise in which he carried himself. He reminded her of every other private-school attending boy she had come across in her youth.

'I don't know. And it's probably best for everyone if we don't talk about him,' she told them.

They retired to bed soon after, Justin's disappearance weighing heavily on everyone's minds. Parvati and Lavender were already asleep, their curtains drawn, and Hermione settled under her duvet, revisiting the day's events like scenes of a film.

Up until Death Eaters stormed the train looking for Harry, the train ride up to Hogwarts had been fairly uneventful. She had shared a compartment with Neville, Luna and Ginny, the latter almost ignoring her completely. Neville and Luna, always sensible, hadn't asked too many questions about why Hermione was returning or where Harry was. Hermione chose to keep her head down, reading over her texts for the new year.

Her relationship with the Weasley's had been tense since Hermione had returned alone from Grimmauld Place after Death Eater's raided Bill and Fleur's wedding. Unable to explain her true motives, Hermione had let them all assume she was going back to Hogwarts in pursuit of her studies.

From the looks Lupin gave her, however, she suspected he knew the real reason.

There hadn't been an exact moment when she made the decision— rather a series of thoughts that had slowly been accumulating since the night of Dumbledore's death.

At face value, Snape had tried to push her away and she had let him. She was still incredibly conflicted about his involvement with the Potter's deaths. She had tried to cut her losses and forget about him, but the more she tried, the more she was drawn back to the moment during the battle when he had saved her.

He could have left her to her fate; should have left her to handle the other Death Eater alone but he hadn't.

Snape had killed for her.

Not only that, but despite everything going off around them, he had been worried for her health.

With Dumbledore gone, Hermione realised she was perhaps the only person left who knew the real truth. Maybe Snape had intended to make her his accomplice just out of spite for telling Lupin, but in doing so he had bound them together by a secret thread.

The decision to leave Harry behind hadn't been an easy one. She loved him and Ron dearly, and had spent the whole year training under Snape to ensure his survival. Telling him of her decision to return to Hogwarts 'because of her poor health' nearly broke her. While he forgave her, Ron was less understanding.

'You and me, we were supposed to be there for him. The three of us were supposed to do this together.'

But Harry had Ron and the support of the entire Order of the Phoenix behind him.

Snape had no one.

The next morning Hermione got up early, her brain already trying to work out a plan to see Snape at the first available opportunity.

She kept recalling back to the scene in his office the evening before, when he had threatened to use Legilimency on her to find Harry's whereabouts. She had braced herself for the pain, embarrassed for him to find the thoughts she was carefully guarding. His fingers were firm as they grasped her chin, his face cold but familiar as his magic reached out to touch hers. But then something stirred in the lines around his eyes and he withdrew.

The thought had kept her up all night. There was hope yet that she was doing the right thing.

Hermione washed her face and brushed her hair, smoothing out the wrinkles from her robes as she stood in front of the giant gilded mirror in the room she shared with Parvati and Lavender. She noted the way her robes hung on her frame: her weight had shifted around her hips and thighs, and the black material now gathered differently around her waist. She adjusted the silver clasp at her throat and studied her reflection.

She looked older. Tired. Her eyes had a sunken look about them, her mouth permanently turned down. At some point she had lost the last bit of childhood fat from her cheeks, making her jaw appear more angular.

Perhaps she was projecting the idea on herself in anticipation of her eighteenth birthday in a few weeks. Likely it was down to the experiences she had faced in the last several months. Whatever it was, she realised she looked more like a woman than a girl.

Dean was waiting for her in the common room.

'I thought us muggle-borns should stick together,' he announced cheerfully.

Hermione offered him a weak smile before crawling through the portrait hole. 'Do you think that's wise? Shouldn't we try to blend in?'

Dean snorted and adjusted the straps of his rucksack. 'Blend in? Mate, have you forgotten who you are?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Professor McGonagall said you were vocal at the feast.'

His wolfish grin was so much like Harry's it made her heart hurt. 'Oh yeah. Might have shouted at Snape.'

'Dean you didn't!'

'Did too. Right in the middle of his big speech. You should have seen it, Amycus was absolutely furious.'

She sighed dramatically. 'You're lucky Snape didn't murder you on the spot.'

'Would have been worth it.' Dean knocked his shoulder against hers. 'You would have done the same, Granger.'

She wouldn't have. It was Harry or Ron who would have stood up in the middle of the hall like that and challenged Snape so openly. Hermione would have tugged on their robes and hissed for them to sit back down.

She stopped as they approached the doors of the Great Hall. 'Dean, you have to be careful. This is really serious.'

'You don't need to remind me,' Dean replied, all traces of a smile gone from his face. 'I had to swear an oath to You-Know-Who too.'

'Then you know we have to keep our heads down. We just need to get through it.'

The benches were half-full, the other students huddled closely together in whispered conversations. For the first day of term, the hall felt dead. Lifeless. A quick glance at the High Table told her that Snape still hadn't arrived. Amycus Carrow glanced up at her arrival and leered at her. Her side ached from where his boot had dug in the night before.

It wasn't long before Ginny, Luna and Neville entered. They sat down down around her and Hermione glanced at the door on habit, expecting to see Harry or Ron dragging themselves through looking dishevelled as always.

But they didn't come, and Hermione tried to make peace with the loneliness in her chest.

'Timetables,' Professor McGonagall announced, passing out sheets of parchment as she moved down the table.

Hermione took a bite of her toast and spread the parchment out before her. It would be fine. She would throw herself into her studies and fill the void left behind. Her eyes scanned the gaps and she frowned. 'I think there's been a mistake.'

McGonagall glanced up. 'Everything has been signed off by the Headmaster.'

Hermione shook her head, staring down at the list of subjects.

Herbology. Ancient Runes. Muggle Studies. Arithmancy.

'But there's courses missing from my timetable. Where's Transfiguration, Charms and Potions?'

'I'm missing Transfiguration and Charms as well,' Dean said. 'And I certainly don't need to take Muggle Studies.'

McGonagall cleared her throat. 'There have been some changes in the course offerings.'

'Changes…' Hermione echoed in disbelief. She snatched Neville's schedule out of his hands and waved it at McGonagall. 'Neville still has Charms on his schedule.'

Dean slapped his hand against the table. 'It's because we're muggle-born, isn't it. Snape's taken us out of the courses that matter.'

Hermione's throat felt like it was closing up. 'But I need those courses! How can I be expected to complete my N.E. without them?'

'Hermione, get real will you,' groaned Ginny. 'No one cares about your bloody N.E. .'

'Five points from Gryffindor for poor language Miss Weasley,' Snape's voice came from over Hermione's shoulder, sending shivers across her arms. 'What is the meaning of this?'

Hermione turned, his nearness forcing her to crane her neck back in order to look up at him.

'Half of my lessons are missing,' she complained, shoving her timetable towards him.

Snape regarded her cooly before his fingers closed around her wrist to steady the parchment. Despite her annoyance, her stomach gave a heavy swoop. He scanned her timetable with a bored expression.

'I fail to see the issue. Everything appears exactly as it should be,' he drawled, letting her go.

Hermione nearly snorted. 'You've got to be joking.'

'Miss Granger,' McGonagall warned.

Snape's eyes darkened and Hermione waved the timetable in the air. 'I'm sorry sir, but Charms. Potions? I passed all of my exams, why haven't I been enrolled in this year's courses?'

His hands folded neatly across his stomach. 'They were deemed an unnecessary part of your education.'

Hermione's fingers curled so hard around the parchment creased.

'Now, if that is all…' He turned, his robes flaring behind him as he began down the aisle toward the High Table.

'I see no difference,' he had told her once.

Before she could consider her actions, Hermione clambered over the bench, nearly kicking Neville in her haste. 'Why allow us to come back at all,' she called after him. 'If my blood status is such a threat to you that you won't let us learn, why not just cart us all off to Azkaban and be done with it?'

Idiot.

Of all the bloody dumb things she could have said—

The anger radiating off Snape when he turned was enough to cause her to take a step back, her bravado slipping. She was conscious of every pair of eyes settling on her. From the front of the hall Draco Malfoy paused before the Slytherin table, looking like Christmas had come early.

When Snape spoke, his voice was just loud enough to be heard by those in his immediate vicinity, his tone curdling her breakfast in her stomach.

'Professor McGonagall, in the past twenty-four hours I have been shown grave disrespect by a student of your house not once, but twice. If your students cannot learn to keep their mouths shut, then I will be forced to ensure they cannot speak for the rest of the year. As for you, Miss Granger,' he took another step toward her and she thought she might be sick. 'Perhaps the Dark Lord has been too lenient in allowing you to return. If it were up to me you would have been carted off to Azkaban, as so you delicately put it, the moment you stepped off that train '

Hermione sucked in a shaking breath, her fingers twisting around the sleeves of her robes. His gaze was drawn to the movement and she was close enough to see the muscles in his neck working as he swallowed.

Like the previous evening in his office when he had failed to use Legilimency on her, there was a beat when she was flung backwards in time; the lines blurred between old world and new. The atoms had shifted in the space between them and she imagined that if she were to squint she could almost see the Snape she had grown to appreciate standing before her. The Snape who's rough edges and whispered words had followed her into the crevices of her brain that she refused to allow anyone to see.

She wanted to reach out and touch him, to place a hand on his wrist and tell him that he didn't have to do it all alone. She wanted to apologise for her outburst, to ask him for a do-over. Surely all could be forgiven? Surely he didn't mean the things he said?

But then his lips twisted in an ugly smirk and the air shifted once again. 'My, we are feeling rather bold this morning. It appears you have spent so much time around Potter that his arrogance has rubbed off on you. Professor McGonagall,' he enquired, 'have you not informed Miss Granger about her change in duties?'

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at McGonagall, who appeared white faced and flustered.

'I have not had the chance to speak with her alone,' McGonagall answered. 'I believe the matter should be handled sensitively, Headmaster.'

'A pity, yet I fail to see how that's any of my concern.' He extended one pale hand towards Hermione. 'Your badge, Miss Granger.'

She blinked up at him in confusion. 'My badge?'

Snape glanced around the hall. 'I was not aware there was an echo in here. Yes, the Prefect's badge that is neatly pinned to the front of your robes.'

'Hermione…' said Neville gently, his hand on her elbow. 'Maybe just give it to him.'

She shook her head. 'But how would anyone know I'm a Prefect?'

'For once, Mr Longbottom speaks some sense,' jeered Snape. 'You no longer require your badge because you are no longer a Prefect.'

She had been wrong.

The man standing before her was her Snape, simply because he knew exactly how to twist the knife enough to make it hurt.

Her cheeks felt hot as angry tears blurred her vision.

She wouldn't cry.

She wouldn't cry.

Her fingers were numb and useless as she unfastened the badge she had worn for two years with pride. She pressed it into his palm. 'Anything else, sir?'

Snape looked smug as he pocketed the badge. He gave a small shake of his head. 'That'll be all. A word, if you please Professor McGonagall.'

Hermione sank back down onto the bench, feeling like the entire student population was staring at her.

Her lessons. Her Prefect status. Harry, Ron.

It was all tumbling down around her.

She tried to catch Ginny's eye, but the youngest Weasley was suddenly fascinated with her pumpkin juice. Hermione stared down at the remains of her toast and wished she still possessed her Time-Turner.

'Professor Snape isn't very kind, is he,' Luna stated softly. 'You didn't deserve that, Hermione.'

But she did. She deserved everything headed her way since the moment she chose Snape over Harry.

Herbology that afternoon was the only bright spot in her day. As always, Professor Sprout was firm but kind, and most importantly she didn't treat Hermione as though she were fragile.

After her outburst at breakfast and the general drama surrounding her return to Hogwarts, the other students gave her space. There were nods of acknowledgement and smiles, but on the whole they avoided her as though there were a small shield charm around her.

She felt eleven years old and in first-year all over again, unliked by her peers and forced to take up the smallest of spaces. Had the other students always treated her that way? She was sure she had made friends on her own merit, and not just because she was best mates with Harry, but now she was doubtful.

She was incredibly grateful when Neville sat down next to her.

'I know it feels a little wrong, but I can't wait to see what Professor Sprout will show us this year. I've had a look at our textbook and there's some pretty incredible things in there,' Neville gushed.

Hermione thought of her Charms and Transfiguration books sitting in her trunk and tried to feel the same enthusiasm.

Without her lessons or Harry and Ron to hold her attention, her first week passed at a snail's pace. She spent most of her hours hidden away in the library stacks, surrounded by piles of books on elemental Charms and higher-level Potions. She didn't really care about her N.E. , as Ginny had assumed. She wasn't dumb; she knew that realistically they wouldn't even make it to the end of the year. The frustration of missing her classes was a knee-jerk reaction.

She knew that returning to a Death Eater controlled Hogwarts would bring with it some changes. She knew that some of those changes would be unfavourable. But she hadn't prepared for the feeling of being utterly powerless to control her own life. She hadn't even considered how the other students, friends or not, might react towards her.

She certainly hadn't considered just how cruel Snape could be, and what it might feel like to have that directed at her.

She tried to remind herself that it wasn't as though he could show her any favouritism. Whether or not he truly believed in their ideals, he was acting as a Death Eater, and one of a high-station. There was a certain way he would be expected to behave.

She only wished it didn't have to sting as much.

On Friday afternoon, all seventh-year students crammed themselves into a classroom on the first floor for Muggle Studies. It appeared it was mandatory for all students, and no one knew quite what to expect.

From her experience with Amycus Carrow, Hermione felt incredibly wary of Muggle Studies. She assumed it would be a far cry from the subject she had fondly studied in her second-year. Deciding it was one subject she should keep her head down in, she found a seat towards the back with Parvati and Lavender. She noted that Dean and Seamus had found a seat front and centre, close to Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

Alecto was an ugly little woman that rivalled Umbridge with a nose like a pug and glittery black eyes like beatles. Her robes appeared to be clean enough, but when she swept down the centre of the aisle the thick stench of sewer water trailed behind her, making Hermione's eyes water.

'I bet you're all wondering why you're here,' Alecto said. She casually sat on the edge of the teacher's desk, her legs swinging back and forth like a child. Each time her heels came down with a thud against the desk the sound sent shockwaves across Hermione's nerves.

'I'm not a teacher. Not really.'

Thud.

'But I do know a thing or two 'bout muggles. Dirty, slimy beasts.'

'I respectfully disagree,' said Ernie McMillian. 'Have you ever even had a proper conversation with a muggle?'

Thud.

'No. Don't need to.' She squinted her beady eyes at him. 'McMillian, isn't it? Do your parents know you're a blood traitor?'

Hermione watched his shoulders square. 'If that's what you want to call it. I'd say it's just being respectful. There are lots of people in this room who have muggle blood in them.'

Alecto wrinkled her nose. 'Mudbloods, you mean. No need to beat around the bush boy, call it like you see it.'

Under the desk Hermione felt Parvati's leg press against hers.

Thud.

Hermione bit down on her lip.

'Half-bloods I can deal with. Just about anyway. But mudbloods,' Alecto made a face. 'Well… let's just say, if it were up to me, I wouldn't allow any of you in this school. You should all be locked away in cages, the lot of you.'

Thud.

'We're humans, not animals,' Dean protested.

'Yeah, and you shouldn't be saying things like that. That's a foul name,' Seamus chimed in.

'It's true though, innit?' Alecto said, cocking her head to the side. 'Muggles are dirty, disgusting creatures who haven't got a clever thought in their heads. Anyone born from them must share their disgusting blood.'

Thud.

Hermione drew in a slow, steady breath. She knew Alecto was just trying to get a rise out of them.

Ugly, decrepit little woman.

Dean snorted and leant back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest. 'At least I know how to take a bath.'

Thud. Thud.

Alecto chose not to reply, her feet still swinging away as she studied Dean. A moment later she slid off the desk and dropped a stack of brightly coloured pamphlets in front of Ernie.

'Be a dear, would you, and pass these out?'

Whatever was on the cover of the pamphlet was enough to turn Ernie's ears bright pink. 'But these are…'

'Straight from the Ministry, 'course.' When Ernie didn't move she tapped her wand against her hip. 'Is there a problem, or am I going to have to take points from our Headboy? Headmaster Snape would be most disappointed.'

There were whispered groans and giggles as the pamphlets landed on the desks. Ernie looked incredibly apologetic when he finally handed one to Hermione.

She could barely hear Parvati's soothing voice over the sound of pounding blood in her ears.

The pamphlet was bright pink with a brown-haired girl pulling seductive faces at the reader.

Mudbloods and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pureblood Society

Her body trembled, her mouth dry.

From the front of the room there were catcalls.

'Hey Granger,' laughed Malfoy. 'This looks a bit like you, doesn't it?'

Some of the other Slytherins heckled like hyenas.

Hermione felt the surge of rage flood through her, seeing red. 'Shut up!'

At that exact moment, every window in the room exploded, shards of glass raining down on the students. There were several screams.

Hermione's pulse was racing.

Alecto stood pale-faced in the middle of the carnage. 'Who did this!'

Malfoy pulled himself off the floor, bleeding from a gash at the side of his face. 'It was Granger,' he moaned, pointing a finger in Hermione's direction. 'She did it. She's trying to kill us all.'

Hermione's mouth gaped open. 'Me? How could I? My wand's still in my pocket.'

Alecto was on her, her foul smell nearly making Hermione retch. 'You bitch. I should have expected you'd pull this shit.'

Hermione found herself being hauled out of her seat, Alecto's dirty fingernails digging painfully into her arm.

'I might not be able to touch you, but I've seen what Snape can do,' Alecto hissed as they hurried down the corridors. 'D'you know he turned a man inside out once?'

Hermione shivered violently, bile rising in her throat.

She had seen the contents of Snape's personal library.

'The Man screamed the whole time. It was bloody brilliant. D'you think he might repeat the performance?'

The edges of her vision wavered as and dragged her up the spiral staircase.

Snape was seated behind Dumbledore's old desk, his head bowed.

The afternoon sunlight shone behind him, adding a soft glow to his black hair. It was a heavy contrast to the dim, greenish light of the dungeons. Hermione realised with a start that seeing him in such light was actually far more terrifying, like noticing the monster under the bed in daylight, and realising it wasn't a figment of her imagination after all.

'What is it?'

Alecto was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, clearly proud of her catch. 'The mudblood brat blew up the classroom.'

There.

At the word mudblood the muscles in Snape's forehead twitched. It was a tiny, insignificant movement, but she had spent enough time in his company to recognise his annoyance even when he was trying to mask it.

Through her anger and fear the tiniest spark of hope fluttered in her chest.

Until he looked up, displeasure evident in his cold, dark eyes. He set his quill to the side, drumming his fingers on his desk. 'That's certainly a record for such a tame subject. Care to elaborate?'

'A tame subject?' Hermione tried to put as much distance between her and Alecto as possible. 'Are you aware that the curriculum now includes foul, horrible lies about muggles and muggle-borns?'

'It's not a lie if it's the truth,' Snape sneered.

The ground felt like it disappeared from under her feet.

'Snape chose Voldemort first', Lupin had warned her.

She had tried over the past week to see past his actions, to rationalise that he was still playing a part, but the reality was glaring at her in the face.

Severus Snape was, and always would be, a Death Eater.

'A wolf in sheep's clothing,' Hermione breathed, shaking her head.

Snape's nostrils flared dangerously.

'You may go now, Alecto. Thank you for bringing Miss Granger to me.'

The rational part of her brain told her she should be scared. But she couldn't back down. The itchy, uncomfortable feeling had returned under her skin. She needed to make him feel the pain she felt.

Alecto giggled. 'I guess we won't be seeing you back in class, Granger.'

Snape's eyes tracked Alecto's exit and Hermione tried not to flinch at the soft click of the door shutting.

He was on her in a moment, his black robes billowing around them. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as he roughly grabbed her upper arms, dragging her close. His eyes were raging coals; anger distorted his features.

'Why are you here?' Snape demanded.

His fingers dug uncomfortably into her skin and she shoved against him. 'Get off me.'

'Not until I get some answers.'

'Answers?' She spat. 'That's rich, coming from you.' She wrenched out of his grasp, pulling her wand from her sleeve.

The cords in his neck stood out. 'You forget who you're speaking to, Miss Granger.'

'My apologies, Professor Snape.' She tilted her head back in defiance. 'How ironic— you chastise me for years for putting my hand up in class and now you actually want me to speak?'

The jibe was just about worth it to see the flush creep up across his neck.

'You insolent little girl,' he growled through bared teeth. His fists were balled at his sides and he took a step into her space, trying to crowd her with his presence.

She refused to be cowed by him. Not this time.

'You going to call the Dark Lord on me?'

Snape laughed, a bitter sound that sliced into her skin. 'And waste his time? He doesn't care about some silly—'

'Silly what?' Hermione whipped her wand up against Snape's jugular only to find his own wand digging painfully into her chest. 'I'm a silly what, Snape? Say it.'

She wanted him to fight, to tear her to pieces. She needed some relief from the pain building in her chest.

But he only smirked, a sinister thing that was at odds with the warm afternoon sunshine that lit the Headmaster's office. 'Go on then,' he purred.

She pressed her wand into him further, relishing in his wince. She could see his heartbeat fluttering wildly in his neck. 'Aren't you scared? I learned from the best, after all.'

His fingers closed around her wand hand but he didn't make a move to pull her away. 'So what's your plan, Granger? You'd hex me and then what, liberate the castle?' His eyes glinted. 'Is that why you're here? Has the mighty Order finally sunk so low that they sent a child to kill me?'

She gave a half-laugh. 'You think the Order sent me?'

'Why else would you be here?' His grip tightened around her hand. 'Now lower your wand.'

His tone was steady. If she were to close her eyes she could have pretended this was nothing but another one of their conversations in his dungeon office. She faltered, her wand lowering a fraction. His reflexes unwavering, Snape's fingers coiled through her hair and tugged her head back sharply, pulling her roughly against him.

'If you everraise your wand against me I promise you'll live to regret it.' His gravelly tone sent shivers down to her toes; her belly fluttering at the feeling of his fingernails scratching against her scalp. 'Now, last time.'

'Why don't you just look in my head yourself,' she quipped, forcing herself to meet his gaze. 'Or have you finally tired of terrorising your students.'

His lip curled over his teeth. 'I could.'

'But you wouldn't,' she countered. She swallowed and his eyes followed the movement. 'I hate you.'

'As you should.'

His grip in her hair loosened a little.

'You took advantage of me.'

She could feel the vibrations through her robes when he chuckled. 'Of course I took advantage of you. You were always so eager to please. Teacher's pet.'

Hermione's face grew hot and she tried to move away but he pulled her closer. 'Do you really despise muggle-borns so much you'd deny us the chance to study?'

The accusation sparked something, the muscles in his face going slack. 'Is that really what you think?'

'What else am I supposed to think? You've been nothing but horrible to us.'

'What did you expect, a welcome wagon?' He pushed her away. 'For someone so clever you can be so ridiculously stupid at times.'

She cringed, rubbing her forehead.

No, of course he couldn't show any kindness.

She exhaled a long breath and stared at a polished boot peeking out from beneath his robes. 'If it was up to the Order, I would be locked away in some safe house. Out of sight, out of mind.' She pressed her fingers to the inside of the wrist in memory of an inkstain long vanished. 'I came back for you, Professor.'

'For me?' The incredulousness in his voice was enough to make her look up. 'Whatever for?'

'I thought…' She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth. 'I thought you could use an ally.' The words sounded incredibly stupid now that she had said them out loud.

'An ally…' His arms dropped to his sides, a deep crease appearing between his brows. 'I take it back. This has to be the most idiotic idea you've ever had.'

He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back against the edge of his desk. 'The time you have wasted,' he continued. 'An entire year I have had to put up with your insistent babbling for the purpose of training you so that you may aid Potter on his quest.'

He was angry with her. Hermione pushed her hands against her stomach to stop the sinking feeling of dread and disappointment.

'Do you even understand the amount of stress I'm currently under?' He snarled.

'I hadn't thought—'

'No, it's quite clear you hadn't thought, Miss Granger. That's the problem, you and your friends never think, do you? You just run off doing whatever you please without once thinking of the consequences.'

'Professor, please,' she pleaded.

'Professor, please,' he mocked. 'Professor, please. All I ever hear is Severus, please. And what about me? What about what I want?'

His shade had gone a deep shade of red and Hermione looked down at the floor again.

'By coming here, you have literally walked into a den of vipers who want you dead for a multitude of reasons. Do not think for one moment I wouldn't kill you myself, if I had to. This cause is bigger than both of us.'

She couldn't bear it.

'I made a mistake.' The crack in her voice made her wince. 'I see that now.'

'Oh now she realises the incredible danger she's put herself in.'

Her ribs felt like an iron cage in her chest.

'I'm only going to say this once, Miss Granger. You will go to class. You will keep your head down. You will be the obedient little bookworm that you are. I don't want to see you in my office, certainly not for blowing up a classroom. I don't even want to know you exist. Do I make myself clear?'

She had promised in the Great Hall she wouldn't let him see her cry. Now she was dangerously close to breaking that promise.

She nodded, unable to trust herself to speak.

She allowed herself one last glance up at Snape. His head was tipped forward, his hair hanging in curtains around his face. With the sun still behind him, his face was cast in shadows.

'Get out,' he told her.

Hermione went.

The castle was quiet, lessons still in session. She ducked into the girl's toilets on the second floor.

Her hands were still shaking from their argument and the tears she had fought to hold back all week finally clouded her vision.

How could she have gotten it so wrong?

She splashed ice water on her face.

That went well.

She glanced up in the mirror, water still dripping from her forehead to see her shadow-Snape leaning on the wall behind her. Hermione furiously wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robes, trying to banish him from her vision.

He was still there, casually watching her with those dark eyes and the faint smirk in the corner of her mouth that made her knees tremble. He strode towards her until he stood behind her so close she could nearly feel him.

In the mirror, his hands came to rest on her shoulders. The sane side of her knew he wasn't real. But in that moment she had never needed his comfort more.

'Now what?' She asked aloud.

Because the last thing she needed right then were bloody visions.

Author's Note:

Playlist:
Repeat After Me, Kongos
The Killing Kind, Marianas Trench
Choke, Royal & the Serpent