Hermione spent the entire day in her bed, tears flowing freely. She didn't even emerge for lunch. The events in the classroom had left her completely distraught. She didn't aim to be disrespectful; she simply wanted him to recognize that she wasn't a child anymore and deserved some respect. However, as always, he failed to see it from her perspective. She began to question if Harry and Ron were right. Maybe enduring a whole year with him was beyond her capabilities. Recalling Professor Snape's stern advice against indulging in self-pity, she finally roused herself from bed and made her way to the living room. To her relief, it was vacant. Seating herself on the couch, she summoned Winky, the house elf.
"Winky," she asked in a hoarse voice, "could you bring me some tea with honey?" Her voice sounded scratchy and uncharacteristic. Swiftly, the elf reappeared with a cup of tea and the requested honey for Hermione.
She consumed her tea with remarkable speed. The warmth and subtle sweetness of the honey provided comfort. Taking heed of Professor Snape's warning, she remained in the room. Retrieving the book from the table, she began reading to occupy her mind. It didn't take long for her to become entirely absorbed in the words before her.
Time passed swiftly. Afternoon morphed into night as Professor Snape entered the shared living room. Seating himself in an available armchair, he made it clear to Hermione that he was now in the room. Initially, he ignored her, calling for his own cup of tea and consuming it before finally breaking the silence.
"Have you contemplated your conduct today?" he asked calmly, uncharacteristically unbuttoning a few buttons on his wizarding robes.
She lowered her book slowly onto the table. "I suppose I have, Professor," she responded nonchalantly. "I admit I said some things I shouldn't have. I was being disrespectful, but honestly, can you blame me?"
An eyebrow arched at her response. He had anticipated an apology, but her assertion that she had a right to be disrespectful didn't sit well with him. "So, you acknowledge that you were being disrespectful, but you won't apologize for it?"
Despite her efforts, she couldn't prevent herself from rolling her eyes at his remark. "Professor, I apologize for calling you insufferable and lying to you, but I won't apologize for standing up for myself. I admit I shouldn't have talked to Ginny in the library, but you can't control every aspect of my life. I'll continue to listen and learn from you, but I insist on having some space to breathe. I mean, I have to ask to leave the room, to do basic things. Can't we have mutual respect while I'm here?"
"Mutual respect?" He snarled, expelling the words with disdain. "You are not my equal, Ms. Granger. Don't pretend otherwise."
She threw her hands up in exasperation. "How? I am nineteen years old and no longer a child. I've worked tirelessly this whole month. I don't think asking for some respect is too much."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling and exhaling, attempting to restrain his anger from erupting. Allowing himself a moment to calm down, he turned to her, his eyes brimming with malcontent. "Look, you intruded into my life. I didn't come seeking this. In fact, I didn't want you here at all." His attempts at calmness deserted him. "I was content with my solitude. I enjoy being alone, having things my way. But you won't let me be happy in my solitude. So, yes, I will continue to treat you the way I want, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"I do want you to be happy; that's why I saved your fucking life," she blurted out in anger. She closed her eyes, regretting her outburst. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that," she responded immediately. Observing the anger shimmering in his eyes, she cautiously distanced herself from him. Rising from the couch, she attempted to retreat to her bedroom, but he outpaced her. He forcefully pulled her back down onto the couch with a swift tug of her arm. She was instantly frightened by him.
He stood ominously close. "Are you going to keep throwing that little tidbit in my face every chance you get?"
"N-No, sir," she stuttered.
"I do not care that you saved my life. I didn't ask nor did I want it," he yelled.
Hermione winced at the loud and angry tone. His intimidating proximity continued to unsettle her as he loomed over her in frustration. "Why?" she whimpered. "Why do you believe your life is so devoid of meaning?" She couldn't comprehend why he was so ready to discard his life. As a formidable wizard, he was, by magical standards, in his prime, with easily a century of life remaining, yet he seemed unwilling to embrace it.
He paid no heed to the subtle moisture that welled up in Hermione's eyes. "Who would care if I perished during the war? Certainly not the people you associate yourself with. If you haven't noticed, the only thing I have is this job that I truly dislike."
"I would," she promptly replied.
He rolled his eyes. "Obviously," he grunted in annoyance. He turned on his heel and entered his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Within the imposing confines of Malfoy Manor, Hermione found herself in a dire situation. The grand entrance hall surrounded her with the ominous presence of Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy. A strange force held her to the ground, rendering her incapable of movement.
Bellatrix Lestrange, known for her brutality, assumed a menacing position above Hermione, sporting a sadistic grin. Her wand, pointed at Hermione, unleashed the cruel Cruciatus Curse. Writhing in pain, Hermione's desperate cries for help echoed, but Bellatrix, instead of relenting, reveled in the agony she inflicted. The deranged witch escalated the torment by producing a sharp knife, carving the derogatory term "Mudblood" into Hermione's arm. Trapped and unable to escape, Hermione's pleas and tears went unanswered as the torment continued unabated.
"If you don't answer me, then I'll let Greyback have you," Bellatrix threatened. Moving away from her, Bellatrix allowed Greyback to take her place. Greyback loomed over her, smiling evilly, his hands reaching out and touching Hermione's body.
Hermione awoke with a scream muffled by her pillow. Tears stung her eyes as her heartbeat pounded rapidly against her chest. She swiftly surveyed the room, realizing that she was still at Hogwarts, and she was safe. After regaining her composure, she shot a glare at her arm, which, due to dark magic, was once again bleeding. She uttered a curse and rose from the bed. Silently tiptoeing into the living room, she aimed to avoid alerting anyone to her wakefulness. Desperate for a quick solution, she softly summoned Winky. Without much delay, she implored the elf for gauze to rewrap her arm and, if available, a healing potion. Seating herself quietly on the couch, she prepared to tend to her injuries. The elf returned with gauze, but little else.
Winky looked down meekly and uttered, "I'm sorry, Mistress. Winky isn't allowed to provide potions."
Hermione frowned, acknowledging the elf was likely restricted from handling potions. "Alright, how about alcohol then?"
Winky nodded and reappeared with a clear bottle of alcohol. "I hope this helps."
Before the elf departed, Hermione whispered urgently, "Please don't tell your master. I can handle this on my own."
Winky gazed at Hermione's persistently bleeding arm. "I'll be back in five minutes. If it hasn't improved, I'll wake him up." With that, Winky vanished from the room.
Hermione swiftly got to work, her options limited. She delicately lifted her shirt sleeve, revealing the now exposed wound. Unscrewing the alcohol bottle, she clenched a pillow on the couch, pouring the liquid over her wound. The pillow absorbed her agonizing scream, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. After applying the alcohol, she struggled to wrap her arm with the gauze, the task proving challenging with only one arm at her disposal. Frustration led to more tears, and she was unable to manage the rewrapping herself. Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she whispered pitifully, "Winky." When the elf reappeared, she uttered, "I need you to wake up Professor Snape and bring him to me. I can't wrap my arm up on my own." Promptly, Winky carried out her request. Hermione sat there, waiting anxiously, hoping not to provoke his anger.
Winky materialized in Professor Snape's bedroom. She gently stirred the professor awake by shaking him softly. "Master, Mistress needs you in the living room. She is bleeding."
Professor Snape raised his head from the pillow and scowled at the elf. What had she done now? Shaking his head in annoyance, he promptly got up from the bed, hastily transforming his clothes into wizarding robes without the luxury of dressing properly. He exited the bedroom with purposeful strides, entering the living room. His eyes narrowed at Hermione, who sat there holding her bloody gauze.
Hermione glanced up from the couch, her cheeks flushed. "Please help me, Professor."
Witnessing the desperate look in her eyes, he felt his anger dissipate. He quickly approached her with a grimace on his face, knelt down in front of the couch where she was sitting, and took the gauze out of her bloody fingers. "Why didn't you just ask for a potion? Foolish girl, I don't want you to bleed to death.
"Winky said she isn't allowed to bring potions, and I didn't want to disturb you while you were sleeping," Hermione admitted. "I've already caused you enough displeasure."
Opting to withhold his comments, he retrieved his wand and cleansed the blood from her arm. Once the leftover blood was gone, he summoned a healing potion and made Hermione drink it. As he prepared to wrap her arm with gauze, his gaze fell on the word carved into her arm, causing his grip to tighten slightly. "When did this happen?"
Hermione averted her eyes from him, unwilling to discuss it. "Doesn't matter," she muttered. Attempting to shake off the lingering terror that had gripped her just minutes ago, she found it quite challenging. She can still hear Bellatrix's hideous laughter and feel Greyback's hands all over her body. She attempted to stifle the shakes, but as always, she succumbed to the internal battle.
Professor Snape gently wrapped her wound with gauze. Upon completion, he observed her closely, uncertain about what to do. Her fingers were trembling, and her entire body started to shake. "Ms. Granger," he called softly, attempting to grab her attention. It proved ineffective as Hermione was entirely consumed by the memory of being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. "Ms. Granger," he tried again, encountering the same unresponsive results. Gritting his teeth with frustration, he finally yelled, "Hermione!"
Hermione's gaze, filled with tears, met Professor Snape's, and she immediately started to sob. A strong sense of protectiveness enveloped Professor Snape. He stood up from the ground and carefully took a seat on the couch beside Hermione. He asked Willy to bring him a cup of tea, placing it gently in her hands and softly instructing, "Drink."
He sat there patiently, waiting for her to calm down, unwilling to leave her in the distressed state she was currently in. As her tears gradually subsided, he awkwardly brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and asked, "Are you okay?"
Her lips formed a watery smile. "Yes, I appreciate you sitting with me." She glanced down bashfully at the ground and whispered, "It's been a year, but it still affects me just as strongly."
He furrowed his brow, expressing concern for the girl's experiences. Unable to withhold his inquiry, he asked in a hushed tone, "What happened to you?"
Swallowing down her nerves, she responded, "Bellatrix." The ensuing silence was unsettling. "Last year, we were captured, and I was the 'lucky' one of the three that she picked to question," she spat out sarcastically. Observing his patient demeanor as he continued to wait for her to share the whole story, she continued, "I disfigured Harry's face, so they didn't recognize him. Ron tried to stop them, but they locked the two of them in the basement." She released a sigh, despising the act of recounting one of her worst memories. "She was very relentless. She wanted to know where we got the sword from, and I said it was a fake. She didn't believe me." She extended her arm and added, "Besides this lovely little scar and enduring the Cruciatus Curse, she allowed..." She halted, choosing not to articulate it aloud.
"What did she allow?" Professor Snape demanded, his face contorted in a dark scowl.
"Please don't make me say it," she begged.
Reluctantly, he backed off, permitting her to keep her secrets. Clearing his throat, he said, "If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen."
"Who are you, and where did my snarky Professor go?" Hermione asked in bewilderment.
The concerned expression he had maintained was abruptly replaced by a glare. "I am still here," he growled.
She smirked at his sudden shift. "Yes, but I think I just realized something." Hoping this wouldn't lead to more trouble with him, she added, "This has been the nicest you have ever treated me. Maybe you do actually care about me."
He scowled and rose abruptly from the couch. "I simply didn't want you bleeding all over my furniture."
Unable to suppress it, a wide grin appeared on her lips. "Whatever you say, Professor." She observed in silence as he turned to go back to his bedroom. A frown crept onto her face, hoping he would linger. Whenever she had this specific nightmare, sleep eluded her, and she didn't want to be alone. However, she understood it wouldn't be appropriate to request him to stay with her. She waited for him to head back to his room, but to her surprise, he turned around and caught her gaze once more.
"Well, are you planning to go back to sleep then?" he asked suddenly.
Feeling like a five-year-old unable to sleep because of silly nightmares, she shook her head. Seeing him raise an eyebrow, she explained, "I can't go back to sleep. I never could." Observing him remain rooted to the spot, she urged, "Just go back to sleep. Thank you for helping me with my arm." She didn't want to keep him where he didn't want to be. There was no reason for him to stay with her now that she was calm.
He turned and entered his room, but just as swiftly as he left the living room, he returned with a book in his hand. She watched in astonishment as he took a seat in the armchair and cracked open the book.
"You don't have to..." she began pathetically.
"Don't read too much into this. I'll sit here and read. Consider it a peace offering," he grumbled in annoyance. He didn't say anything else for the remainder of the night. He attempted to concentrate on the words before him as he read, but his mind incessantly wandered to Hermione. He felt intense anger knowing she had been tortured. If he could bring Bellatrix back to life just to eliminate her, he would do it repeatedly. His hands clenched the book tightly, turning his knuckles white. Despite finding her insufferable and annoying, he couldn't suppress the deep remorse he felt for her. She was just a teenager and shouldn't have had to endure so much.
A lingering sense of regret began to emerge. He had been unreasonably harsh toward her the last two days for no valid reason. He had to acknowledge that she had wholeheartedly proven herself as a competent apprentice who could handle the classroom. In his stubbornness, he opted to keep his thoughts unspoken. He wouldn't apologize. From his perspective, him sitting here with her and taking care of her arm was good enough.
Feeling an unusual sense of security with Severus in the room, she grabbed her book from the table and started reading. However, as she settled into the story, her eyelids grew heavy. Eventually, she succumbed to sleep on the couch, unable to resist any longer.
Severus glanced at the couch, grappling with the internal debate of whether to let her be or bring her back to her bedroom. Yielding to his better judgment, he closed his book, placed it on the table, and silently walked over to the couch. With a flick of his wand, he levitated her off the couch and transported her back to her bedroom. Gently lowering her onto the bed, he ensured her head was securely on the pillow. After covering her with the blanket, he quietly exited the room, closing the door behind him. Returning to his bedroom, Severus went back to sleep, content that she had managed to find rest after her terrifying nightmare.