02 Don't be nice, please

25 December 1999, Evening

It was one of those rare Scottish winter nights in which the sky was a clear, deep black and the stars seemed to compete about who'd be the brightest of them all, overseen only by the apart moon with its bright, aloof light bathing everything reached by it in an aura of seemingly insubstantiality and inviolability.

This, Hermione mused, effused a faint feeling of eternity and should the universe ever stop the course of time, this surely was how its visual mundane manifestation must look like. She felt herself increasingly melt into the setting of the small hidden garden on the castle's ground. The combined emotional and physical strain of this day against the background of just everything had finally taken its toll. Initially, lying down onto the snow was her last despaired step to ease the burning pain of the scars on her back and stop the bleeding of the nasty cutting curse scar as well. The seizure had tortured her for ten hours now and while the pain indeed slowly subsided, it befell her, how pathetic her existence was. Of course, as everything else, this was dependent on the perspective, but with a lack of new input, she was stuck in the vicious circle her mind offered, which acknowledged her resentment by everyone else as understandable and justified. 'There are some things you don't do, not even to survive' – Minerva McGonagall's words echoed in her mind. None of them understood that it hadn't been about surviving or fraternizing with the enemy, but just about less pain for some hours at least: after she hadn't been able to make up more, sadly fatal, fake information to buy the order time, her torture got worse. She knew she had betrayed them, was a coward for having chosen to kind of play along sexually and that her behavior could be called whorish, since she had traded sex for less pain, but she also knew that what she had done was just deeply human. As such it was obviously unforgivable.

She had decided to suffer for the safety of her former best friends, because she loved them and because that was what the situation had called for since Harry's survival was crucial for their victory over the dark. She still suffered due to them and the latter one was in its persistently undifferentiated form only bearable for so long. Hermione thought about all of them, who had deleted her from their lives and about her unaffected dark savior, whose non-existent sympathy she missed sadly.

She was crying, she could tell, though unable to feel the tears running down her icy cheeks. Oh Merlin, she had fought for a place in this new world that had defeated the darkness, but it had shown her repeatedly that there wasn't a place in the light for everyone. Letting go and finding peace in oneself, she knew now, was much easier said than done, especially when you haven't given up on the lot of them, though they had in their turn.

Hermione didn't know for how long she'd lain here already, only that she had stopped renewing the warming charms at one point. As the coldness had a pleasing numbness spread through her, which even calmed her aching cramped muscles, she was ready to give-in to it, to let go of it all; ready to merge with her moon-lit surroundings, to become physically and emotionally inviolable; ready to find her final place in eternity beyond the veil. No more fighting. After all it was a bit impolite to be alive, when no one wanted you to.

She silently begged death to stop for her this time and allow her a seat in his carriage.

.o.O.o.

True to his habit Severus was suddenly just there.

"I take it you chose to inure yourself to the adversity of your tent's wintriness the hard way. Tell me, Miss Granger, are there no limits to a Gryffindor's foolishness?"

Very slowly she opened her eyes again. The lids felt so heavy. Seeing Severus' form towering over hers lying helplessly on the ground triggered an angst and connected memories that practically suffocated her. The anxiety tightened its grip again and she began to shake. She rolled her eyes up to look past him into the soothing distance of the sky, when she felt his warming spell on her.

He had also shifted slightly to make her look at him.

"Miss Granger, get up this instant! We'll have a nice little chat about this insanity inside the castle," he said increasingly annoyed.

As she tried to look past him again, she even managed to turn her head slightly to the right, while he continued clearly enraged now, "And then you'll tell me all about how your mother had your head banged when you were a baby, which would make an appropriate explanation for how, in Merlin's name, this idiocy could come from your otherwise decent brain."

Severus knew his words didn't betray his still lingering first-second shock of seeing her motionlessly lying on the ground. He had to get her moving and up. This sight made him sick, even without accompaniment of wounds and nauseating arrangement of whatever body fluids.

"Please go away," Hermione whispered hoarsely.

"I ensure you, this is not an option. You may do with your life as you wish, but since I am in charge of all residing students, I'd rather you postpone your suicidal ambitions to a time and place that won't result in tedious paperwork for me," Severus informed her while lowering himself down slightly and locking his eyes with her despaired ones.

His were as black as the night sky with an acid look in them, she recognized as another warming spell hit her. And while her heart knew that her sheer panic was irrational, her mind had its own way and her body seemed to refuse the uptake of it at all. The anxiety attack tightened its grip further; she trembled visibly now.

"Go back," she managed to utter under her breath in a hoarsely squeal.

At that, Severus, finally lost for patience and wanting this increasingly disturbing situation to end, hunkered down next to his apparently deliberately annoying student and seized her by the shoulders.

Immediately put over the edge by this sudden movement and touch, Hermione cried out, "Don't touch me! Please-," her voice left her and she swallowed. "Please, don't touch-," she breathed heavily and wanted to move so badly, but still couldn't.

Severus, however, could and both her outburst and the sheer terror he had seen in her eyes during his approach brought him to his knees, his hands gripping his thighs to stabilize himself. He was literally swallowing bile. Never had he touched her and he absurdly hoped she would know that too. Of course she did. It occurred to him that she most likely didn't mean exactly only him, but an indefinable group of them. Merlin help, they were both reliving their respective version of the same horror scenario. Hers was harder to bear.

Hermione was relieved that he had let go and hadn't instantly started chastising her. She had startled him, she knew. When she felt sure, he wouldn't try to touch her again, she stopped watching him from the corner of her eye and returned her gaze to the sky, to the soothing distance of the eternal sky.

Severus managed to force his pragmatic self to regain control of his actions and vigilantly observed her features while casting another silent warming spell. The second of having touched her shoulders had been enough for him to recognize the stiffness and deathly coldness of her body. Had he found her an hour later, it would have been fatal. Stupid girl, he chided her in his head. Risking her life after having gotten a, most improbable, second chance. After he had seen her the first time on day four of her captivity in the manor, he would have bet that she wouldn't live to see the dawn. He had frantically brooded over options to get her out of there while still alive or at least kill her secretly, but none had presented themselves and since she hadn't yet betrayed his secret by that time, having blown his cover himself then would have made her sacrifice futile. He had and still did despise himself for another unbearable decision he had to make for the greater good and had nightmares following him since then. Her survival had been a miracle, one that had lifted some burden off his shoulders and had sustainably impressed him although she was just a shadow of her former self by now and only showing animal spirits this morning during breakfast. And right now it seemed that a revised version of history was repeating itself. Why was it just the both of them again? The universe must be having fun, he mused bitterly before springing into action with all sure instinct he was able to muster and that her state called for.

"Miss Granger, you're seriously freezing. We need to get you inside. Are you able to move at all," he asked in a low voice.

Of course she wasn't. Wasn't that obvious by now? No, she didn't want to go back inside. She wanted him to stop warming her and to just let her drift back towards her hypothermic sleep. As she simply continued gazing into the night without any visible reaction, not even a blink, he grew increasingly concerned. This was too atypical compared to her usual teacher-pleasing self.

"Gra- Hermione, I'm going to move a bit closer to your head, but won't touch," he informed her sympathetically, but still got no sign of perception.

"Look at me," he commanded gently, but when Hermione again couldn't bring herself to react, he smothered a short flare of impatience before leaning his head partly into her field of vision, still carefully avoiding physical contact. "Hermione-, I'm worried about you. You are perturbing me," he informed her softly. "Now, look at me," Severus insisted more firmly this time, but under his controlled tone Hermione could hear real concern and was touched by the displayed familiarity of using her given name. He, Severus Snape, admitted to be concerned about her. The young woman wanted to believe it so dearly.

She swallowed and slowly turned her gaze to him, but in the moment they locked eyes, she had to close hers. The surreal frankness and benevolence of his approach had unleashed a despaired longing for more of what had just shone through his tone and words, but what wasn't hers to gain and much less to keep. This realization made her heart even heavier- if this was possible at all.

"Don't be nice, please-, please, just don't- don't," she begged him quietly as tears filled her still closed eyes.

Severus was taken aback. No one, no one had ever asked that of him. Even his seventh-year Slytherins would have trouble to come up with a single memory of their Head of House having actually been nice at all, let alone of asking him to stop. However, following her wish was no option and he was slightly stunned by how natural this came to him. Opposed to public opinion he recognized and understood human agitation both intellectually and emotionally very well. Empathic reactions, otherwise, didn't rank quite high in his behavioral repertoire. There was only so much softness tolerable if one wanted to survive an abusive father, bullying schoolmates and two wars as double agent to at least one brutal megalomaniac master. Although the war was over, there were too many reasons to not let this habit die – allies were not automatically friends after all.

Her wretched condition certainly called for nice. He recalled that her overall demeanor this day had been one of utter defeat. This betrayed her plea to have arisen from a lonely place inside her, far away from any orbit of sanity. Severus shuddered. He had evaluated her coping abilities completely wrong and by trying to trigger her fighting spirit, the last time this morning over breakfast, he had very likely added his part to the drama that now unfolded in front of him. This actually was a suicide attempt and given the secrecy of the place not exactly a half-hearted one. There came the bile again. He did feel sick, knowing himself which depth of despair was needed for taking the final step. Stupid soft spot, he cursed inwardly. Until the party, he didn't even know his heart would allow a new one at all. Let alone for another Gryffindor student. He had managed to emotionally withdraw from it so splendidly for more than a year now. This had taken, and continued to do so, more effort than he was generally willing to admit to himself, especially since he had come to find her tolerable during their joint brewing in his lab and even found himself enjoying their sharp and witty verbal exchange. She was smart, attentive, considerate and mostly refraining from useless chatter. Admittedly, Severus had – inappropriately enough – come to find her even more than just tolerable. Damn the girl!

During his musings his eyes were always resting on hers. He fought the urge to just order her to open hers again. Her physical, but even more so her psychological, condition soaringly concerned him. Both bore too much of a striking resemblance to the horribly frightening sight of her when he had returned to rescue her.

'Don't be nice. Please just don't,' it echoed in his head now, oh dear. The moment when her tears threatened to spill over, he reached out softly and without even thinking to catch one with the pad of his thumb and to smooth it away. She didn't flinch at his touch, just held her breath for a split second. "Why not?" he asked gently, his hand still softly resting against her icy cheek and his thumb absently caressing her jawbone while taking care of the silently flowing tears now.

Hermione resisted the urge to lean into his soothing touch. The gentleness was alluring. She couldn't deal with his nice self since he would again change into his misanthropic snarly self and surely very soon so.

"I- I can't have you change back. Not again."

There! Eyes locked with his, she had told him her painful inner truth, pathetic as it was and ideal for him to use against her later. Hermione was simply unable to get her defenses back up again.

In his steep confusion Severus' thumb immediately paused its movement and while he looked at her questioningly he spotted imploration in her eyes. By now a couple of reasons to choose from presented themselves. Intuitively, he slowly continued caressing her cheek and brushed a tear-damp curl back from her temple.

Closing her eyes at this sensation, she couldn't help any longer but to lean into his touch. Now, I'm lost, she thought and sighed.

Severus found his body to be faster on the uptake than his mind. All of a sudden a tension, which he wasn't even aware of, left his body and made him slump a smidge. After having processed the situation, the relief over her responsiveness reached his face and resulted in something rare: A small but genuine smile, witnessed only by the moon.

"That's nothing to worry about anymore," he said lowly-voiced and Hermione swallowed. Again something the young woman wanted to believe so dearly.

With his right hand he cupped up her other cheek as well and her eyes fluttered open, bearing a questioning look. His gaze rested on hers and hopefully conveyed something like friendly insistence.

"I need you to listen now." He waited for his hands to feel a nearly invisible nod and acknowledged it with stroking thumbs. "I gather you are suffering some kind of panic attack and that your muscles are severely cramping. Given the time span this must be rather painful by now, though the coldness may be numbing it all. Apparating is not an option, so I'd rather carry you inside. I will relax your knees and hip joints for about twenty seconds to be able to pick you up properly. This- will hurt. Your scars should be alright for now, I trust the coldness has stupefied them?"

Another tactile-only nod accompanied by some fresh tears to be smoothed away by Severus, who became stunningly aware of how natural this felt.

"Alright. Pank!" he called and the house elf arrived promptly, but wasn't given the chance to comment on the scenery. "Pank, three things: First, go to the teachers' bath and fill the pool-tub with lukewarm water. Then get two vials of the icy blue pain potion from my drawer and bring them there too," he advised the elf without taking his eyes off of Hermione, "And afterwards would you go and prepare Spinner's End for holidays?" he asked the elf.

"Pank will do everything immediately, sir!" The elf nodded eagerly and glanced shortly at Hermione before he left. They were alone again.

"Sir- I'm sorry," she said hoarsely out of the blue and closed her eyes wearily.

"Don't do that," Severus said tightly. "Don't go all slack and don't you dare die on me!"

At that Hermione's eyes snapped open.

"Better," Severus simply said and took his right hand away, gripping his wand. "Let's get going.- Relaxio," he incanted without further ado pointing at her hip joints and knees and in the same moment a torrent pain shot through those body parts, making her even faster sick than the creeping agony of her panic attacks. She couldn't breathe and just let out a beastly groan.

Severus' pragmatic self had fully kicked-in at the utter shock her face displayed at the unexpected intensity of the pain and with a swift movement he had reached under her shoulder blades and knees and had lifted her into his arms, shifting her weight so that her head fell against his collarbone. He rested his nose on top of her head.

"It's over any second now," he whispered soothingly into her cold hair while walking inside. With no intention of losing any more time, Severus headed for the nearest entrance to the common bath. Every teacher quarter had an own entrance from their respective private bathrooms to it, but there were additional ones on every floor of the castle and within three minutes they stood in a cozy warm room with a pool-sized bathtub filled with bubbly water.

He intended to lower Hermione to the floor in order to at least take off both their robes and shoes before getting into the water, but when she realized it, her hand resting at his chest anyway, suddenly gripped his waistcoat as if for dear life.

"Not on the floor. I- I can't lie on the floor in a room-, please," she begged him.

Of course not the floor! He sat them both down on one of the luxurious armchairs and arranged her in his lap, propping her upper body and head with his right arm against his chest while undoing her shoes, then opening the dress clasps of both their robes to undo them. As soon as he had gotten rid of his shoes, he carried her into the water, carefully minding the steps. He seated himself on one step and placed her between his legs on the step below his, so she was completely underwater from neck to toe.

Hermione was calm, she trusted him and couldn't help but indulge into his careful handling of her still rather stiff form. The second she recognized that she wasn't quite able to sit yet but had the water reaching her chin, she slightly panicked. The idea of drowning was horrible.

"Don't let go," she anxiously managed and grabbed his shirt where her hand rested. Her body was still stiff.

"My cover is blown. I wanted you to refrain from dying on me outside, because I preferred for it to happen inside the castle," he commented sarcastically while instantly tightening his arms around her.

Hermione felt her muscles relax at this physical reassurance and the warmth surrounding her and melted into him some more.

"I can't imagine this to be advantageous in terms of paperwork," she dared, her voice still hoarse, but animal spirits and brainwork reviving.

Brat! "Hardly-. Spoils the mood either way," Severus stated evenly-voiced.

"And we cannot have that-. Children would suffer over cauldrons. Gryffindor would never win the House Cup again-. I think I'd rather refrain from taking responsibility for a furious Potions master."

"Bitter, rather," he huskily stated. And sad, he added only to himself.

Hermione didn't move as she progressed his avowal. She peeked up at him. "I'm sorry."

Severus nodded. "I know. And you'll continue to be."

Resting her cheek back against his chest she closed her eyes. Although unable to wrap her head around the possibility, she liked his closeness.

"I know I've gambled away my free nights for the rest of my school career."

"You, have jeopardized the free nights of your first-born's first year."

"Mr. Filch will be ever so pleased," she snorted.

"Oh, he secretly enjoys the chances to have his way with students, though not allowed to have his way with them like in his cherished good old times," Severus said amused. "But this would hardly be fair on me. Filch having all the fun while I did all the work. I'll see to your detention myself-. Making sure your talent is not wasted on scrubbing lavatories night after night."

Hermione's eyes flew open. "I refrain from commenting on how much more use there is for my talent in scrubbing cauldrons."

"I shall congratulate you on this wise decision, Miss Granger. Being all generous tonight – it is Christmas after all – I shall award your displayed flicker of good judgment with a hope for you to even actually gain academic advantage from your detention then."

'Miss Granger,' it echoed in her head. The teacher mode had returned. Teasing never went well for long with him. She knew that, but it nevertheless felt as if she had just lost something. Severus had recognized her short flinch.

"I'd appreciate that very much- S-sir," she answered and while she wanted to signal that she had understood his meaning, she nearly stumbled over his first name. Damn all those s surrounding his address.

When he also loosened his hold a little the magic of the moment really felt kind of broken to her now. But this couldn't have lasted forever and she had to turn to her left side anyway. The scars on her back started to sting and even half-lying on them was increasingly hurting now, especially in the warm water.

"I need to turn a bit to ease the pressure of myself off my back." As she was able to move herself again a bit, she thought it as an information, but before being able to spring into action herself he carefully took her by the arms and shifted her on her left side, legs floating up a bit, which he took care of by settling them over his. She smiled to herself at that.

"Accio," and the potion Pank had retrieved earlier, flew into Severus' hand, who offered it to her immediately. She took and drank it without hesitation.

"I thought, I had taught you better," he said.

It took Hermione a second before she shrugged her shoulders.

"I trust you implicitly," she answered nonchalantly, while shooting him a look of incomprehension, "A Slytherin needing the obvious to be stated: the Head of House would be appalled," she added with feigned indignation and rested her cheek back onto his chest, wanting to wallow in this intimacy as long as he allowed it, all the while hoping he was still open to teasing.

"Cheeky brat," he simply said with his smile audible.

With her hurting back exposed, he couldn't put his arms around her anymore, so he put one on her left arm while the other came to rest on her hair-covered neck and he instinctively pressed his lips on top of her head. Immediately realizing what he was about to do, he simply rested his face there so as not to finish the kiss. Smelling her hair, he relaxed into the warmth of the water. So did Hermione. The pain potion worked its magic and suddenly fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. Nuzzling closer and wanting to give-in to sleep, she felt Severus brushing back damp hair from her face.

"Hermione stay awake. You are still too cold. It's not safe to fall asleep."

"Yes, sir, sorry," she mumbled and opened her eyes again.

"What's with the sudden sir-ing," he asked.

"Ahem- you, well, I- d-," she stopped short.

"Go on. Try for a coherent sentence. It'll keep you awake and I am curious."

"Well, I'm- I don't know. You went for my given name and then back to formality, so I thought you'd only used it to bridge the distance, to- ahem, convey trust. But now you used it again and I'm confused. And of course you are my professor, but- then we are here now-," she gestured vaguely around, "so yes, I am confused," her voice trailing off.

"I, Miss Granger, was talking detentions. As your professor," he said deliberately slowly. "The general situation on hand, however, strikes me to be a touch unofficial. As you indicated, you are in my lap, in a bath-tub. There are- bubbles."

At his irritated emphasis she bit her lips so as not to laugh while the realization subsided that the dark Potions master indeed just sat in a lavender-scented bubble-bath.

Severus continued, "And while I am usually a stickler for formality, it seems uncalled-for unless wishing to add to the awkwardness already existing. In fact, I'd prefer not perceiving us as student and teacher, but rather as one person taking care of another-. For the record: you may privately call me Severus."

Though motionless, Hermione was absolutely taken aback. Were there no limits to his ability to surprise her tonight? She had rather believed him to go for emphasizing that he did what he had to do to make her accept help, but that, especially in the face of this situation's obvious inappropriateness, a certain formality would need to be restored in order to remember that they are after all still teacher and student and not intimate friends.

"Hermione," she softly replied.

Severus rested his chin on the top of her head and soon she could feel some of Severus' tension subside. She closed her eyes again and indulged in the intimacy. And not just for the mere sake of it but for being offered so lavishly by this otherwise unsociable man, whom she had missed so much. She felt him warming the water wandlessly and shortly after, they both had relaxed into one another's physical contact in companionable silence.

"Why are we here, Severus," she asked to prevent them from falling asleep and possibly drowning. "I mean here, in this bath?"

He lifted his head lazily off hers.

"Hmm-, it was closest entry-wise, you may not have noticed, but one of us actually walked here-," he bantered, which earned him a snort with feigned outrage. "Compared to laboriously keeping your head up from outside a tub, this promised to be more effective in handling you- especially given that physical closeness reduces both stress intensity and its duration. Thus, a case of killing three birds with one stone."

Severus only now consciously realized that her form was completely unwound.

"I trust the potion is working?"

"Incredibly so. What's the different ingredient? I mean it's powerful and beautiful," she said, mentally face-palming herself for actually having complimented on a potion's outlook. Well, the color was astonishingly lovely, but yet.

Severus chuckled softly at her enthusiasm and noticed with relief that her animal spirits seemed to be returning.

"It's specially designed for problems like yours. I'll teach it to you during detention," he promised, which earned him an honest joy-filled smile. She was likely the only student, who felt content at the prospect of potions-brewing during detention.

"Tell me, is it only the scars on your back plaguing you? There must be some on your chest as well," he half-asked.

Hermione nodded slowly.

"Chest, belly, thighs and more intimate places- and they're troubling too, but- differently. There's another quality of pain to them, less overwhelmingly systemic-," she trailed off but gathered herself fast and cleared her throat. "According to my research, this may simply result from intense contact with- with filth. Ahem, due to my habit of compulsive lounging on my back most of the time in the manor," she added sarcastically.

Severus nodded, giving her hair a stroke not bothering to hide the pain flickering in his eyes. She couldn't see them.

"And what about your face?"

At that, Hermione's fatigue left instantly. Turning slightly she pushed herself off him farther into the pool and grinded to a halt a good 1.5 meters away, looking at him.

"How-," she stopped short as the answer plopped-up in her own mind, immediately turning her face away.

Merlin, her glamour had failed her! Of course! Her core had been weak as it was and given today's additional emotional and physical strain, the charm had stopped working. She was aware that he theoretically must have known that there had to be facial scars, since he had seen the wounds very closely back then. But after she had been discharged from St-Mungo's, she had carefully avoided having anyone see them.

Actually, it was a sight hard to bear. She had been able to reliably tell from the look on the face of the two new nurses that had started working on her ward the week before she had been allowed to leave. Yes, being a war heroine came at a cost. She hadn't blamed them. In fact she had been thankful, since it had made her taking a closer look into the mirror and starting to practice an advanced glamour charm that didn't give itself away visually. There had been enough unwanted attention even without additionally being pitied for her now monstrous looks.

Severus was appalled by her sudden intensity. Granted, he had been shortly perturbed at the sight of her face earlier this evening, but immediately had recalled where the scars had come from. He had simply blamed the missing glamour on her overall indifference. Now it occurred to him that she hadn't recognized being all natural in her appearance. She'd wanted to die, with no one to witness, but still look good while doing so, he thought and managed to only mentally shake his head at that.

The man suddenly felt exhausted at the prospect of having to deal with the new dramatic sequence that seemed to unfold now and wasn't sure how to muster the patience for it. He knew he wasn't a sociable man by any definition and this night's events demanded skills that weren't well developed in him, which was slowly taking its toll. Waiting for another two minutes while watching her motionless in the water, breathing hard, he made a decision.

"Time to leave," he stated and left the pool, without further notice of her intense reaction. After having incanted a couple of drying spells and having slipped back into his shoes he felt a bit more like himself again, but was a bit lost regarding Hermione, who still carefully avoided turning her face back to him or showing any signs of movement whatsoever. "Shall I rather Levitate you here?" he forced himself to ask deliberately casual.

"I'm quite sure I have sorely tested your patience and benevolence. Please don't let me keep you, since I've done excessively so tonight. Thanks to you, I do feel much better and capable of returning to my quarters on my own," she managed to say, still not turning to him.

Severus snorted at that. "I'm indeed slowly losing the sorely-tested patience you just referred to," he agreed with a neutral voice, although Hermione heard the suppressed annoyance in it. "I will only say this once and trust you to be polite enough to listen closely."

Hermione tensed at his strict tone, but appreciated his effort in word choice and nodded. Still facing away, she felt his gaze on her.

"Point one: Be sure that I am well aware that the situation I've just experienced with you was neither one you've gotten into accidentally nor one to be taken lightly. Yet, you seem succumbed to the illusion that you'll be allowed to spend your near-future unsupervised. Be assured that this is not the case. I gathered that your options for supervised accommodation are currently somewhat limited, which puts me in charge of it. At least until your Head of House returns after Christmas. Don't interrupt!" Severus reminded sharply at the deep breath she took. "And don't worry, you'll get your chance. We will be doing some extensive talking very soon. Your supervision, however, is not up to discussion, you being of age or not. It's either me or the psychiatric ward of Park House in Muggle Manchester. Think about it. And now to point number two: I do agree with the saying that beauty is clearly in the eye of the beholder. I've practically stared at you rather closely for more than an hour now, so trust me that to my opinion there is no point to start hiding your face from me again now. However, vanity to me is only comprehensible to a certain degree and if it makes you feel better, I will of course charm a glamour on you until your core has regained its full power. Until then, I must ask you to refrain from needless use."

Merlin, caring was exhausting! He hoped that he hadn't made things worse again now by trusting his instincts in confronting her with the consequences of her decision and showing her the consequences of her actions. He knew very well that there was a time for pampering (rarely) and one for clear paths (mainly). There was no use in substituting one with the other when detrimental to the goal, especially not because of feared withdrawal. This was for her benefit not his, he reminded himself. He had intended this speech for tomorrow after a good night's sleep, but as soon as she had started to retreat into her shell, due to looks and not painful truths, he knew that he was in for all or nothing. Nothing would mean forcing her to the comparably impersonal psychiatric clinic Park House, dooming their new and much needed bond to the chances of a snowball in hell. It then would all be up to the abilities of the doctors and her will to live at all. And Merlin, that girl wasn't even close to an orbit of sanity right now and could do with a pro for sure. Severus, however, had the nagging sensation that she'd be better off with someone taking close care of her privately, because that was what she seemed to lack the most. But therefore, besides her implicit trust, she needed to be willing to open up to him. He chastised himself for giving his soft spot power over him, making him question his way of acting.

Hermione interrupted his line of thoughts and face down she carefully stepped out of the water, took one of the fluffy towels, buried her face in it and then wiped it dry with a little too much attention to her eyes, betraying that she had been silently crying after his speech.

Without asking, he casted drying spells on her as well, which wasn't as satisfying as toweling oneself, but given the circumstances, the only appropriate solution at hand. Finally, he casted a glamour.

"It's just a simple one and I'm going to vanish it for the night to prevent unnecessary drawing on your core." Hermione was thankful that he hadn't made her ask.

"Thank you, s-Severus." She stumbled over it again. His speech had felt like a chastise from her professor, a reasonable version at that.

He nodded. "This way," he gestured at one of the doors and let her into the bathroom of his private quarters and from there through a small hall into his living room.