A/N: Took a while, so I made it extra long and opted not to end on a cliff-hanger. You're welcome.
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Bound to Him
Chapter 34
The sky was still dark when Severus awakened with a groan. He vaguely remembered returning to his rooms after the Halloween feast, kicking off his shoes, and collapsing onto his bed. Undoubtedly, he had passed out from sheer exhaustion after having not slept more than a couple of hours over the past few days. He let out a lazy sigh realizing that he had completely slept through his scheduled rounds for the night. Hopefully, no children were bleeding to death in the corridor, for he was still much too tired to even think about putting his boots back on, let alone walking the entirety of his route.
He was in the midst of drifting back to sleep when a soft moan caused his eyelids to snap back open. Someone was in his quarters. Jumping to his feet, he wielded his wand and carefully crept towards the door to his lounge. He held his breath listening for any further signs of occupancy, only to be greeted by the gentle sounds of breathing. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted what looked like a shoe on the armrest of the couch.
"Lumos," he whispered, stepping close enough to the sofa to peer over the top of it. There were curls everywhere, and one pale arm casually hung over the edge of the cushion with fingertips barely touching the area rug on the floor. Green-ish yellow eyes lazily blinked at him as the ginger cat raised its head from its position atop the girl's backside.
Snape's mouth opened in disbelief at the sight of Hermione Granger lying face down and sound asleep on his couch. She certainly had not been there when he had returned from the Great Hall, and he certainly had not allowed her in. He had half a mind to rudely wake her up and give her a thorough dressing down before sending her back to her own room. The rest of him, however, was too exhausted to fully care at the moment.
Slamming his mouth shut, he put out the light and trudged back into his bedroom. The little chit broke into my quarters! To sleep, apparently!
"No better than that blasted cat," he grumbled, pulling back the covers of his bed. "Nuisances."
He had set one knee onto his mattress before he glanced towards the door, wondering if she were cold. She was curled up rather – What the bloody fuck do I give if she's cold? She's the one who broke in, damn it! She can deal with a slight chill. She's lucky I don't give her detention for a month!
But with a sigh, Severus found himself pulling out the bottom drawer of his dresser and reaching for the god-awful scarlet and gold tartan blanket that Minerva had so gleefully bestowed upon him two Christmases past. Electing to blame the decision entirely on his fatigued state, he slinked back out into the sitting room.
"Bloody nuisances the both of you," he sputtered to the feline before tossing the blanket over top of them. He then spun on his heel and sought the comfort of his own bed.
When he awoke again, it was to see the first rays of sunlight streaming in from the window and to hear the distinct sound of purring beside his ear. Narrowing his eyes, he spitefully threw the covers behind him and on top of the rumpled cat before he stalked into the bathroom to complete his morning routine.
After he had finished, Snape gave a deep sigh and strode out into the lounge. Pausing behind the sofa, he glanced at the clock on the mantle and then back at the girl who was peacefully wrapped up in the blanket. He began impatiently drumming his fingers on the back of the couch as he once again looked at the time. A few moments of indecision passed before he folded his arms against his chest and faced the girl.
"Granger!" he barked loudly.
Hermione jostled awake, clutching at the blanket as she glanced up at him in fearful surprise.
"Pray tell, girl, what would possess you to break into my personal quarters?" he asked, coldly raising an eyebrow. "I do not recall extending you an invitation."
"I'm sorry, sir," she sighed, sitting up and glancing down at the tartan blanket in confusion. "I just wanted to sleep."
"Have you not been provided a bed in Gryffindor Tower? If you have suddenly found it missing, I will consult your Head of House immediately."
The young witch yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I couldn't sleep there. I thought it would be easier here."
His brow raised in surprise. "And if you had been caught sneaking down here?"
"Well," she shrugged, "I suppose I would have said that I couldn't sleep, and that I was taking a walk to tire myself out."
"With your cat?"
She blew out a breath and crossed her arms. "I didn't plan on bringing him, for your information. He found me on the way down."
"Explain to me how the two of you managed to break through my wards."
Hermione frowned and shook her head. "I didn't do anything to your wards. I just touched the painting, and then a minute later it opened."
"You expect me to believe that the castle just let you in?" His expression visibly darkened with disbelief.
"I don't expect you to believe anything, Professor," she muttered, pushing up from the couch. "But that is exactly what happened. The same thing happened with Professor McGonagall's quarters after… after the… the Welcoming Feast."
Severus swallowed nervously, understanding precisely to what she was referring. He instantly averted his gaze to the empty fireplace. Several seconds passed in tense silence before he made note of the time. "I suggest you return to your dormitory, Miss Granger. It is still early enough that your peers will still be asleep and likely have not yet noticed your absence."
She nodded in response and turned towards the door.
"This cannot happen again," he said in a warning tone. "There is too great a risk of you being seen."
The girl let out a sigh and nodded again. "I understand, sir. It was stupid of me to do."
With that, she pulled open the door and slipped out into the quiet staircase. As the door clicked shut behind her, Snape stared at the space for a long moment before sighing.
"And take your hideous cat with you, for Merlin's sake!"
X
While the rest of the weekend passed relatively peacefully for Hermione, it had left Harry with plenty of time to stew. He had no proof that Draco Malfoy was responsible for what had happened to his best friend, or even – for that matter – if the slimy blonde had finally become a Death-Eater. He was relatively certain of both, nonetheless.
And so he had spent as much time as possible watching the other boy. During mealtimes, he had kept an eye on the Slytherin table, wondering if the animated stories the blonde told his laughing cohorts were about Hermione. At night, he curled up on his bed, staring at the Marauders' Map for hours, monitoring Malfoy's movements. Hardly a word of Monday's lessons entered into his comprehension, for he spent a majority of the time surreptitiously glaring at the blonde.
It was during Tuesday afternoon's Potions session that Hermione caught him.
"Knock it off, Harry," she muttered quietly after kicking his foot.
He let out a sigh and shook his head as he turned back to his potion. "Sorry. I just can't help but feel he has something to do with it."
Or not. She sighed heatedly and tossed in her chopped shrivel figs with more force than was necessary. "Let it go."
"I've tried, Hermione," he responded. "But I just can't. He hurt you."
"No, he didn't," she hissed. "Draco didn't do anything to me."
"That you know of," came his reply.
She had just opened her mouth to protest, when she was interrupted.
"Miss Granger, Mister Potter – I do not recall instructing you to speak to one another," Snape chided loudly as he walked past their table. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry glared at the back of the professor's robes. When he caught sight of Draco's smirk, his face darkened further.
Hermione only rolled her eyes at her partner and was more than content to spend the rest of the class in silence. When Snape called for everyone to apply their stasis charms and return their unused materials to the storeroom, she eagerly jumped off of her stool and gathered an entire armful of ingredients.
Harry grabbed the one jar she had missed and followed her towards the front of the room. He scowled when a familiar head of white blonde hair cut in front of him.
"Move it, Granger," the boy snarled, shoving her aside. "Learn your place."
Horrified silence fell upon the room as the half dozen jars in the girls' hands fell from her grasp and shattered against the stone floor.
"Granger!" Snape shouted, angrily staring at the ingredients now gone to waste. "You will remain after class to clean your mess… without magic!"
"It wasn't her fau –"
"Shut up, Harry," she spat quietly, punching him in the arm. She ignored the laugh Malfoy gave as he kicked at the pile and made his exit. When everyone, including Harry had left the room, she sighed and crouched over the mess. She was careful to avoid cutting herself on the glass as she first began collecting the dried shrivelfigs.
She looked up in surprise when the Potions Master knelt beside her with a battered dust pan and brush. When he began sweeping it all into the pan, she narrowed her eyes in concern. "Can't you save any of it?"
Severus gave a disappointed sigh and shook his head. "They've all been contaminated with each other. The results could be disastrous if used in brewing."
"Oh," she whispered sadly. "I'm really sorry, sir."
He grunted as he took the shrivel figs from her hands and tossed everything in the trash bin. As he stalked about the front of the room, his eyes scanning furiously for any missed pieces of glass, he waved her away.
"Why don't you just use magic?" she asked instead of leaving.
Snape looked up and gave her a pointed stare. "Do you consider it wise, Miss Granger, to use magic when it involves shards of glass flying through the air?"
Hermione bit her lip and shook her head in embarrassment. He grunted again in response and resumed his perusal of the floor.
"Sorry again," she stated as she stepped out of the classroom and into the hallway. She thought it curious that Harry was not waiting for her like usual, but as she made her way up to ground floor, she realized why. Through one of the windows, she could see the dark-haired boy advancing upon the group of Slytherins playing around near the lake… with Ron in tow.
"Damn it!" she hissed, breaking into a run as she exited the castle. "Harry, stop!"
"Oh, look!" Draco sneered, smacking Crabbe in the stomach and pointing. "Potty's come to play!"
"Weasel, too," Goyle added with a look of disgust.
"Harry!" Hermione cried as she continued running.
"Here comes the mudblood," Crabbe snickered.
At this, both Harry and Ron pulled out their wands.
"Shut your filthy mouth!" the redhead shouted.
"You would know about filth, wouldn't you, Weasley?" Draco laughed, pushing from between the two bulky Slytherins. "Growing up in it and all. Now you wanna lie with it, eh?"
Hermione heard little else besides her own panicking as the first hex left the tip of Ron's wand. Draco easily side-stepped away from it and started laughing, but she could tell Harry was seconds away from launching his own curse.
"No! Harry, don't!" she shouted, grabbing hold of her two friends. "Stop it! Just let it go!"
They both pulled away from her and stepped closer to the three giggling boys. Hermione groaned and ran in front of them again.
"Knock it off!" she yelled, pushing Harry's chest to prevent him from firing a hex towards Draco.
"Hermione, move," Ron instructed, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from Harry.
"No!" she shouted, slapping his hand away and trying to grab his wand. "Stop it!"
Malfoy yawned dramatically as he batted away the spell that Harry had shot at him. He gestured at his two henchman and raised his eyebrows. "Care to do anything about this?"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Locomotor mortis!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Hermione did not realize that any of the three spells had been cast in her direction until she found herself flying through the air. She gave a panicked cry as she saw the dark blue water beneath her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she crashed through the surface of the frigid water.
As the dark water surrounded her, she fought desperately to return to the surface. Her legs refused to move due to the locomotor curse, and her arms were quickly freezing up. She had no idea if she even still had possession of her wand, but her muscles were cramping too much to check the pocket of her robes. It was unlikely anyway, after being hit by two disarming spells.
As her lungs began screaming for oxygen, she did the only thing she could think of.
X
Severus had just returned to his quarters with the intent of showering before supper when the silver otter flashed across his conscience. His brow raised in concern, realizing she had been standing in front of him not fifteen minutes before and had been perfectly fine.
'Professor… can't breathe… help! … lake…'
His eyes snapped immediately to the window. Anger rose in his stomach as he noticed five familiar students standing near the edge of the lake – two of them were rushing towards the water. Scowling, he threw open the window and leaped out of it. When his feet touched ground, he sprinted to the water's edge and tossed his teaching robes aside. He could still hear her desperate cries in his head as she fought against the dark water.
"Move!" he shouted, pushing Weasley from the dock. When he reached the end of the wooden structure, he gracefully dove into the water. Ignoring the biting chill of the water, he pushed deeper into the lake until he caught sight of her. His gut clenched fearfully when he noticed she was not fighting any longer and he could not hear her in his head. Grabbing hold of her, he closed his eyes and launched them both to the surface.
Gasping for air, he swam towards shore and then pulled her onto the sand. Without acknowledging any of the shouting going on around him, he moved the sopping mess of hair from her face and used magic to clear her airway. He held his breath until she began coughing up water.
When her eyes flashed open she grabbed onto his wet shirt and whispered, "P-prof-fessor…L-leg lock-cker…"
Snape glared at the boys standing around before muttering the counter-curse. With her legs finally able to move, Hermione curled up into a ball, seeking warmth.
Severus summoned his robes and wrapped them around her, wordlessly casting a warming charm as he stood.
"Accio wands," he snapped, reaching up one hand to snag the six wands that flew through the air. He picked up the girl and scowled darkly at the rest. "You will all be in my office by the time I return from the Hospital Wing. Anyone who is incapable of this will be immediately expelled! Is that understood?"
He did not wait to see their nods before he turned and stalked back to the castle. Hermione was still shivering against him by the time he had reached the infirmary. He quickly deposited the girl onto the nearest bed before shouting for Madame Pomfrey, and storming from the room.
He pounded down the staircase, ready to tear into anyone who even dared to look at him. When he had descended to the dungeons and found the boys scuffling in front of his office instead of waiting quietly, his frown deepened. Angrily, he snatched the collars of both Harry's and Draco's robes.
"Enough!" he snarled in their faces before wandlessly throwing open his door and hurling them inside. He then gestured crudely for the other three students to enter the room and slammed the door loudly behind them.
"We were just defending ourselves, sir!" Draco stated nervously while the other two Slytherins nodded forcefully.
"You attacked Hermione!" Harry spat.
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "She wasn't doing anything, but trying to stop us! She didn't even have her wand out, you stupid ferret!"
"You see! They even admit they were –"
"SILENCE!" Snape bellowed, slamming his hands down on his desk without caring that he was dripping water over all of his ungraded essays. "I did not give any of you idiots permission to speak! Fighting on school grounds is expressly forbidden! If the lot of you is too stupid to figure out why, that is why! Miss Granger could have died, and you all are responsible!"
"But, sir –"
"No!" The Potions Master interrupted the blonde's attempt at protest and rose to his full height. "Fifty points will be taken from each of your houses for your participation in this foolhardy endeavor! Fifty points from each of you!"
Five jaws dropped in response, each of them shocked that Slytherin had come out worse in the deal.
"What about Granger?" Draco snarled. "Just because was too stupid to defend herself –"
Severus silenced him with a glare, and then turned to the two Gryffindors. "Potter, Weasley – loathsome as it is that I cannot expel you without the approval of your Head of House, you will report to her immediately for your punishment. And be assured I will be speaking to Professor McGonagall shortly, so do not even think of telling her anything besides what happened. Now go!"
Ron scrambled for the door, but Harry paused. "What about our wands?"
"You may have your wand back, Potter, when – and only when – Professor McGonagall comes to fetch it for you!"
The boy frowned, but relented when his redheaded friend pulled him from the room.
Snape waited until the door closed before rounding on the Slytherins. "If it were anyone else – anyone else! – you would all be expelled! Do you understand me? They may have started it, but you three morons couldn't stay out of it, could you? You have forced my hand – I could have had the bloody Gryffindors expelled if you hadn't stupidly tried to prove your superiority!
"Needless to say, I will be informing your parents of your idiocy." When smug glances were exchanged amongst the students, Severus narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms. "Do not think for one moment, gentlemen, that your parents will have any pride in your actions! Not if it includes defending you in front of the Dark Lord!"
At their suddenly sober expressions, he threw their wands onto the ground in front of them and then pointed forcefully to the door. "You will each serve detention with Professor McGonagall. Now get out of my sight."
Crabbe and Goyle immediately disappeared from the office, but Draco hung back after collecting his wand from the floor.
"If you believe my instructions did not apply to you, Malfoy, you are sadly mistaken!"
Draco shook his head slowly and walked towards the door. He paused for a moment and then closed it before turning back to face his irate Head of House.
"Sir, why would my father have to defend me to him?"
So the boy doesn't know. Snape snapped his eyes to the blonde's face and let out a huff of air. He wrestled with whether or not to tell the young Malfoy anything, but eventually decided it might be beneficial for the girl to have some protection from Slytherin House. At the very least, it would prevent another situation like the one that afternoon.
"I highly doubt the Dark Lord would have appreciated the loss of his newest information source."
The young wizard widened his eyes and paled. "Granger's spying for the Dark Lord?"
Severus allowed himself a smirk at the boy's fearful expression. "I would have assumed your father would have informed you of it. The little swot now does exactly what I tell her to. I'm sure you can imagine how much more precarious your father's position would become if you were to be responsible for her death…or if you were to let the plan come to ruin in any manner."
Draco visibly gulped and nodded his head quickly before vanishing into the hallway. As the door shut behind him, Snape kicked his chair out from his desk and collapsed into it.
X
After being treated with a myriad of warming and drying spells and potions, Madam Pomfrey hesitantly allowed Hermione to leave the Hospital Wing. As the girl pushed through the infirmary doors, she was immediately taken aback by the sudden presence of the Headmaster standing in front of her.
"My dear," he said quietly. "Forgive me. It seems I am always startling you. It is not my intention."
She gave a nervous smile and shook her head lightly. "It's alright, sir."
"You are looking remarkably well," Dumbledore smiled. "I trust you are feeling better after your unfortunate dip in the Black Lake?"
Unfortunate dip? I nearly died! Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes. I guess I have Professor Snape to thank for that."
The elder man's eyes were twinkling as he nodded. "I do hope, Miss Granger, that you have come to realize that Severus is not the same man you have had teaching you Potions. He does genuinely care about your well-being."
The young witch let out a sigh and glanced nervously about the hallway. Seeing no one, she frowned and rubbed her head. "Well, he has to, doesn't he? Seeing as his life is bound to mine. He's not exactly forgotten to remind me of that fact lately."
"I see," Dumbledore sighed softly. He glanced briefly at his shoes before once again smiling at her. "If you would be so kind, Miss Granger, as to escort an old man back to his office."
Hermione nodded politely and followed the Headmaster as he turned towards the nearest staircase. Their journey to the stone gargoyle was completed in comfortable silence, leaving her plenty of time to contemplate his motive. Dumbledore was old, but he certainly was not feeble. He could make his own way to his office. There was no need for her to climb several flights of stairs just for a polite conversation. Obviously, he wanted to talk about something that needed to be handled in private.
Maybe about Voldemort? She shivered at the thought and wrapped her arms around herself. She would have assumed that Snape had filled him in, but perhaps he wanted to hear it from her herself. She supposed that she would demand the same thing if she were the head of the Order.
Glancing at the back of his head, she frowned as she considered the hint of sadness that had been in his eyes before he asked her to accompany him. He seemed disappointed that she did not quite believe his proclamation about Snape, but how could she really? Sure the Slytherin Head had been nicer to her, amiable even at times, but he was doing it because he had to. He was forced to care about her as it was equivalent with caring about himself. Even though she greatly appreciated his new civility, she could not convince herself that there was anything more to it than a spy trying to make the best of a difficult situation.
She had begun to wonder during the first few days after the encounter with Voldemort – he had seemed so caring. In the days that had followed, though, he had changed. It was probably her fault for overstepping her bounds and sneaking into his quarters. He had seemed angry upon finding her in the morning, and she had regretted it ever since. She had likely pushed him too far – especially after the Veritaserum fiasco concerning Lily. He had barely even looked at her in class on Monday, and she could practically feel the rage vibrating from him as he carried her to the Hospital Wing a short while ago. He had dumped her on the bed, barked at Madam Pomfrey, and practically punched his way through the doors to get away from her.
He was so angry, but it was not her fault. She had tried to keep the boys from dueling. If she had not done anything, there would probably have been five people in the infirmary instead. Though she did recognize his right to be cross – she had risked both of their lives over a schoolyard fight. If Snape had been any slower in getting to her, they probably would both be dead right now.
Hermione glanced down at the black robes she had folded over her arm and realized it probably would not be the wisest idea to return them to their owner just yet. She was not quite ready to deal with him shouting at her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the stone gargoyle grinding against the floor as it moved out of the way. Dumbledore smiled down at her as they both stepped onto the rising staircase and waved the doors open as soon as they had reached the top. The doors closed with a gentle click a few seconds after they had stepped into the cluttered room.
"You may wonder why I requested you join me," he said softly as he stepped behind his desk.
The girl stayed silent, but nodded in response.
"I believe," he said with a small sigh, "that there are a few things you should see. I think they may give you… something more to ponder."
She raised her eyebrows in confusion and watched nervously as the Headmaster waved his hand to call forth his Pensieve. She stared in apprehension at the large metal bowl sitting upon the desk while he poured in a vial of blue shimmering liquid.
"Memories of mine," Albus explained with a glance in her direction. "I presume you know how this works after hearing of Harry's experiences."
"Yes," she nodded.
"You appear troubled," he noted.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she stepped closer to the desk. "Forgive me, Professor, but I'm not exactly keen on submerging my head in water at the moment."
The elder wizard chuckled and stroked his beard. "How very careless of me not to consider that. My apologies, Miss Granger. You need only touch your forehead to the fluid, and I can safely guarantee that no harm will come to you while viewing."
She let out a deep breath and set down Snape's robes as she glanced into the swirling medium. "Will you be joining me?"
"Only at your request," he answered.
The girl sucked in large gulp of air and closed her eyes. She had faced Voldemort for Merlin's sake – she could do this on her own. Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned over the bowl and touched her forehead to the cool liquid. Almost immediately she felt herself falling into the bowl. Panic washed over her for a split second when she pictured herself drowning in the Black Lake, but the fear vanished when she found herself landing in one of the chairs facing Dumbledore's desk.
At first she wondered if had not entered the Pensieve correctly, until she caught sight of the blackness of the windows. Widening her eyes, she glanced about the room and wondered at the strange reality of being able to physically enter another's memories. The only clue to it not being real was the slight haziness to the room, as though someone had not cleaned the fireplace properly.
The Headmaster was writing something out on parchment while she sat studying the composition of the memory. She was just rising to view what he was working on when a sudden brightness leaped through the window, causing both she and the elder wizard to jump. It took her a second to realize she was staring at a patronus – a silver doe with large, sad eyes.
"Front entrance… require immediate attention," the doe said before vanishing. Hermione did a double take at hearing the deep voice of the Potions Master coming from such a delicate creature.
Almost immediately, she was standing next to Dumbledore while he stood in the moonlit hallway just around the corner from the entrance hall. Suddenly, she could hear hurried footsteps and the wizard beside her cleared his throat.
"Severus, my dear boy – you gave me quite a scare with that Patronus of yours. It did make me curious, though, as to why an owl wouldn't have sufficed to inform me of your return."
The girl watched carefully as the dark form appeared before them. She could see a flicker of emotion in the man's eyes before he donned his usual impassivity. She gulped audibly as she noted what he held in his arms. It was her own bloodied body, bundled into his robes and held protectively against his chest.
"My apologies, Headmaster. I felt the situation would be handled best with exigency."
"Indeed, you are right," Dumbledore nodded. "Madam Pomfrey is already expecting you."
"Do you feel that wise, sir?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes as she studied the strange expression on Snape's face.
"Is the uncertainty for Miss Granger's sake, Severus – or yours?"
Her eyes snapped momentarily to the Headmaster, and she frowned at the question. The younger wizard had not immediately gone on the defensive, which surprised her. She could tell Snape was contemplating something and she stepped nearer him to have a closer look at his eyes. There was a pained and fearful look to them, and his gaze flickered briefly down to the unconscious girl in his arms. She knew at that moment that he was not concerned solely for himself.
"I am of the opinion that the fewer people who know of this, the better it will be for all of us. That is all I mean."
The young witch instinctively stepped out of the way as Dumbledore placed his hand on Severus's shoulder.
"Madam Pomfrey will do everything that can possibly be done for her, and will do so with the utmost of discretion. I am also quite sure that any suggestions or improvements you may have in regards to Miss Granger's care will be more than welcomed."
Before she barely had time to look at the Slytherin Head, he had brushed past her and disappeared quickly up the stairs.
Suddenly, she was back in the Headmaster's office standing beside the man as he tossed in a pinch of floo powder and kneeled before the green flames.
"Severus?" he called out.
"Yes?" came the strained reply. Hermione could barely make out his face as he stepped towards the fireplace on his end. She could not be certain, but it did appear that his eyes were shining more than usual – as if he were fighting back tears.
"Ah, there you are. I had thought perhaps you would stop by my office -"
"There were other concerns that required my immediate attention," Snape interrupted. "I do apologize."
"Apologies are not necessary, Professor." Dumbledore shook his head and stayed silent for a few moments. "You are tired, Severus. Rest now, and we will discuss the status of things after the sun rises."
The girl wholeheartedly agreed with the elderly wizard's assessment. Snape did look rather worn out, as well as looking as though he would rather be anywhere else than talking to his superior.
"Something else on your mind, Headmaster?" he asked when Dumbledore did not end the connection.
"Our memories are what shape us, Severus. As much as it troubles you and I, Miss Granger must not be deprived of hers."
Before she had time to consider that statement, the surroundings faded and reappeared – this time with the first rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows. A knock sounded on the door, and a seated Dumbledore called out for Severus to enter.
Her chest clenched at the appearance of the usually formidable man. His skin was paler than normal, dark circles were painted beneath his eyes, and there was absolutely no pride in his step. He looked exhausted – and beaten, for that matter.
"Come in, come in. Have a seat."
Snape stepped forward and hesitantly placed his hand on the back of a chair. "If I may, I'd rather stand."
Hermione pinched her lips together to avoid smiling at the horrible glare Dumbledore received at his offering of a lemon drop. She watched curiously as the dark-haired man removed a memory and deposited it in the Pensieve for the Headmaster to view. She had an unsettling feeling as she realized exactly what the memory would entail.
As Snape moved towards the window, she followed him. She watched as he closed his eyes and leaned against the window's edge. When some of the tension eased from his face, she realized he must have fallen asleep. The girl sighed a small breath of relief at the knowledge. His breathing began to slow, and she had to repress the urge to move the hair that had fallen into his face.
When a throat clearing occurred shortly thereafter, the Potions Master's eyes flew open and for a second it appeared that he was staring straight at her. When her heartbeat slowed, she realized, though, that he was staring at the man behind her.
"Severus… I…"
Anger flashed across the younger man's features as he scowled and stepped closer to the Headmaster.
"That," he pointed to the Pensieve, "is what you have asked of me. You do realize, sir, that it's not just picnics and pumpkin juice!"
The rage exuding from the man was frightening, and Hermione found herself shirking away from him as the Headmaster took on a pained expression.
"I am fully aware of what horrors Voldemort and his followers are capable, Severus - as were you when you agreed to be of service to me and to the Order." The frustration in his voice seemed surprising. "I have asked no more of you, Severus, than I know what you can withstand."
"Withstand?" If he had been angry before, he was outright livid now. "I just stole the innocence of a student - of a child - and shall be forced to do it again! I ask of you, Headmaster, exactly how am I to withstand that?"
Hermione felt tears forming in her eyes as she recognized just how affected he had been. She assumed that Snape put up just as much of a front with the Headmaster as with anyone, so for him to show so much anger was deeply troublesome. She could see him become angrier with Dumbledore's words and she discovered a sudden desire to slap the old man.
The office shifted again, and she watched as McGonagall glared daggers at Snape and tore out of the room. From the two men's positioning, she surmised that the memory took place immediately after she had run from the room at the notification of her parents' deaths. She bit her lip, grateful to the Headmaster at least for not forcing her to sit through that interaction again. It had played enough in her head, that she nearly had it memorized.
Snape sighed and stared at the door in concern. "She must begin Occlumency training immediately."
"I agree she will need lessons," Dumbledore nodded, "but surely we might wait until she is in a better state."
"It will be in her – our best interest to begin straightaway," the younger man stated. "The Dark Lord won't exactly wait until she is in a better state, and neither should we."
The Headmaster sighed and took his seat. "You are right as usual, Severus. Give her the day to rest, I think, and you can send for her tomorrow."
The tall man spun around in surprise. "Me? I cannot teach her! You must be the one –"
"Do not let your lessons with Harry discourage you, Severus," he interrupted. "I am sure you will be a more than competent teacher for Miss Granger."
"That is not the point, sir, and you know you are fully aware of that fact! I will not subject her to my presence any more than necessary."
Dumbledore sighed and rested his elbows on his chair. "You are the one she must learn to trust. You will be the one to teach her."
"Albus –"
"Severus, I have made my decision," he stated forcefully. "You are the one who stands before Lord Voldemort, and so you must be the one to prepare her for it."
The walls of the office seemed to cave in around her and as soon as she had blinked she was standing beside the Headmaster as he pushed open the door of Snape's dungeon office. As she stepped into the room, she could see the man was standing over a bubbling cauldron.
"Dreamless Sleep?" Dumbledore queried as he peered at the brew.
Snape nodded and removed his stirring rod. "I thought it prudent to replenish my stores."
"You do not use it anymore, Severus," the old man said quietly. "For Miss Granger?"
The dark-robed wizard sighed and stared at the floor. "She does not sleep without… she does not sleep."
"You share her nightmares," the Headmaster intoned sadly.
Snape closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "She does not eat, either, unless forced. Perhaps if she sleeps, her appetite will return."
"I have never seen you so concerned over a student," Dumbledore said with a small smile.
"She interrupts my sleep," he snarled.
Hermione sighed at the admission, but narrowed her eyes at the fact he had offered it so quickly. Examining the look on the Slyterin's face as he turned back towards his cauldron, she could see his expression told a different story than did his words.
She had little more time to observe him before the scenery melted back into the Headmaster's office. She stood behind Dumbledore's chair as Snape pushed through the doorway and visibly limped towards them. Hermione frowned as she noticed herself curled up in the chair by the fireplace, realizing that she had never noticed he had been that injured.
"Severus, we're glad to have you back. Minerva was quite beside herself with worry."
Snape glanced at him in disbelief and rubbed his forehead as soon as he dropped into the seat.
"And how was Tom this evening?"
Hermione allowed a small smile at the Potions Master's snort.
"You make it sound like it was a blooming social visit." The man paused and sneered. "The Dark Lord's just peachy – still all bent out of shape about not being the supreme ruler of the wizarding world and all, but I'm sure he'll get over it soon."
The girl erupted into a toothy grin as she watched the man sigh and pick at his robes. Movement by the fireplace caught her attention, and she sighed at the sight of herself waking up.
"It seems Madam Lestrange has been deprived of a spot of fun and feels that I am to blame. She put up such a fuss, the Dark Lord deemed it necessary, in the interest of maintaining order amongst the ranks, for us to put it to rights."
"And for only this you were summoned?"
Snape shrugged and pinched his eyes shut briefly. "The Dark Lord was, of course, particularly interested in how I was getting along with my new... pet."
Hermione startled when the man launched out of his chair and spun to face her other self. She could see the emotions on her face, and she closed her eyes, remembering how upset she had been by the phrase.
"My dear girl, apologies are in order. I had nearly forgotten you were here. I am quite sure Severus meant you no harm."
She frowned realizing that by 'nearly forgotten' the Headmaster really meant 'not forgotten.' He clearly could see her from his vantage point.
"Pet?"
The young witch opened her eyes at the sound of her own scratchy voice. She watched sadly as the book fell to the floor and Snape tried to grab her arm before she sprinted out of the room. He then spun around and kicked the leg of the desk.
"Fuck!" She could see the pain shoot across his face as he sent an inkwell flying across the room. She winced as it shattered, and Snape collapsed into his chair in defeat.
The Headmaster passed by her and turned to the window. "I don't suppose you are going to tell me why Madam Lestrange felt so slighted by you."
"You would be correct, Headmaster. I assure you it has no bearing on my position or the Order, and therefore does not concern you at this time."
"You and she are once again on good terms?"
Hermione pulled her eyebrows together in concern as she watched the man groan and begin rubbing his leg.
"I allowed her to take a few liberties with my personal well-being, and after she got in a few nasty hexes, the Dark Lord declared the debt repaid. I was then permitted leave to tend to my wounds."
"I thought we agreed, Severus, that you would return to the school if you were in need of healing. Your position is of too much value to risk on improper care."
"You agreed." Snape rolled his eyes. "I, on the other hand, know that I am perfectly capable of healing myself. It's not as though Bellatrix was actually permitted to kill me."
The girl let out a deep breath, remembering how he had healed her injuries on several occasions. She knew firsthand that he was competent at healing, and it saddened her to think of how injured he could have been to still return with a limp.
"Besides, I had a few errands to run before returning."
"Miss Granger's supplies could have been sent for. It was highly unnecessary of you to go to Diagon Alley and personally fetch them for her."
Her brow raised in surprise. She had just assumed that he had ordered the books. Never had she considered that he would have personally gone after them – while injured, no less.
"I was out anyway."
Hermione did not know whether to laugh or cry at the casual-sounding statement. Apparently, the Headmaster seemed to share her sentiment, opting to change the subject instead.
"Hermione did remarkably well this afternoon. Her technique is just as extraordinary as you described to me."
"Indeed."
As the two men fell silent, the young witch crossed her arms and moved to sit on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. She tilted her head and stared at the brooding man in front of her, wondering if he had actually boasted of her abilities or if the Headmaster was exaggerating again. She could tell that Snape was seriously thinking about something, and a spark of curiosity ignited within her. She wanted to know what it was he was contemplating.
"She was quite concerned for your safety, Severus."
The girl swallowed anxiously as his dark eyes met hers. She knew that he was looking through her to the Headmaster, but she could not help but feel as though their eyes were connected. It was because of this that she was able to identify the pain and shame that flickered across his countenance.
"I know," he said softly before his voice and expression became hard again. "It was unbelievably…distracting."
While Dumbledore sighed, Hermione grimaced and rubbed her face. She had never meant to distract him – especially when he was facing Voldemort. Blowing out a deep breath, she wondered offhandedly why he had not been more frustrated with her. Never having peace and quiet in your own mind – always having someone else chattering over your own thoughts –would be enough to make anyone crazy.
"She wants to trust you. Let her."
She looked up as Snape raised from his chair and looked at the desk near where she was sitting. "She's better off not to."
"Why?" she whispered, momentarily forgetting that he could not answer her. She let out another sigh when the office disintegrated into a darkened, dust-covered classroom. A small gasp escaped her when she realized it was the room where he had taken her after the Welcoming Feast, only it had been completely destroyed. All of the tables, desks, and chairs had been blasted into splinters, and in the midst of the rubble, Snape knelt on the floor with a desperate look on his face.
"I see you've taken to redecorating again," Dumbledore said quietly. "Severus –"
"Don't," the Slytherin whispered with the darkest of glares.
"—I am sorry."
Snape immediately pulled away from the Headmaster's touch and rose to his feet. Hermione could tell that it took more effort for him to mask his expression this time. "It had to be done."
A split second later, the room once again shifted into Dumbledore's office. The old wizard sat at his desk while Snape stood behind one of the chairs. The latter let out a pained breath and winced as he gingerly placed a hand to his side.
"Severus, I must insist on you visiting the infirmary."
"I-it doesn't hurt much," the younger man obviously lied as he gripped the chair fiercely. "She couldn't have fractured more than a few ribs."
"You are punishing yourself unnecessarily," Dumbledore sighed.
"I…will…be…fine," Snape spat with a glare.
"You are not the one to blame for this situation."
"Am I not?" the man shouted, grimacing in pain. "I'm the one who waited too long! I knew the signs and still did nothing. I thought… I didn't think it would progress so quickly. I could have… I could have spared her the physical pain, at least."
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and blinked back tears. She did not want to watch him continue to stand there in pain. He had told her that he was uninjured, but he had not been. It was not his fault, though! She had known it at the time, but she was acutely aware of it now. And when Professor McGonagall angrily stormed out of the fireplace, she closed her eyes and leaned against the window.
She could not bear to watch her Head Witch shouting at and threatening him. She could hear his agonized gasp as he backed into something and jarred the ribs that she had broken.
"Spare me the dramatics, if you would. I've already heard all of the gory details of this evening, so count yourself lucky to still be breathing."
"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Because I want answers," she huffed. "For instance - Miss Granger seems to be under the impression that you tried to drug her this evening. Why would that be?"
"Drug her?" he asked, surprise evident in his tone. "With what exactly?"
"Olvideregrete."
"WHAT?"
Hermione winced at the angered confusion in his voice and opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. She half-listened to the rest of the memory, but could not stand to watch it. Snape had only been trying to relieve her pain, and she had all but accused him of supplying her with a date-rape drug. It was no wonder the man had been so angry during the next day's classes.
It was not until the walls of the office disappeared that she let out a sigh and turned to face the next memory. The room she was standing in had a long table. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, while the rest of the staff sat around it. Snape sat near the middle of the table, next to Remus and across from the deputy headmistress.
"Does anyone hold any other concerns?"
"I had a concern, Professor," Remus said as Snape sighed and dropped back into his seat. "It's about Miss Granger."
Hermione's eyes snapped to the werewolf's face and she frowned at the mention of her name.
"It seems she's having a difficult time adjusting since the attempt on her family."
As several of her professors began nodding, she angrily crossed her arms and blew out a puff of air. She glared at her Ancient Runes and Arithmancy professors in turn as they each expressed their concerns, before letting her bitter gaze settle on Remus. At the sound of Snape snorting, she flicked her eyes to his annoyed expression.
"Something you care to add, Severus?"
The girl felt her expression softening at his scowl.
"Only that I see no need to waste my time discussing this. It's pathetic to watch you all whinging about how your shining pupil has become just as dull as the rest of them. Though if you would take two seconds to pull the bloody cotton from your ears and listen to what you've actually said, perhaps you'd realize that your star has only dimmed her brightness only enough to not cause permanent blindness to those around her.
"I'm willing to predict that half of the students in your class failed the assignment, Septima, and yet you're griping that the highest score isn't as high as it could have been. Did she get one wrong? Two? Merlin, let me alert the Prophet for you. Perhaps you should focus on the rest of the dunderheads who are struggling to keep their heads above water instead of the one who is swimming circles around them.
"And you, Remus. For Merlin's sake, you'd be hard-pressed to find seven people in this very room who could produce an adequate Patronus every day. How many years did it take you before you could produce yours? I happen to remember quite clearly how futile your attempts were at her age. Are you really that unbalanced about the fact that a 16-year-old girl can't master magic of that magnitude two days after leaving the infirmary?
"Unless, of course, I was misinformed about the girl suffering a turn of ill health. If that is the case, Headmaster, I will gladly zero out her marks for her absence in class, even if she did come to my office on her own time, looking to brew the potion she had missed.
"I, for one, will be glad to teach an entire class period without her hand frantically waving about in my face. It's about time the girl learned some restraint, and it's bloody well time for the rest of her classmates to pull their heads out of their arses and answer the questions their own damn selves."
A warm smile came to the witch's lips as she listened to him defend her performance to his colleagues. There was no need for him to do that – it posed no real threat to their safety – and yet he had still chosen to do it. She glanced around at the shamed expressions on each of her professor's faces, minus McGonagall's amused and Remus's determined looks, and relished in the happy feeling spreading through her body.
She waited patiently as the scene before her faded into blackness. Hermione let her eyes adjust to the low lighting and realized she was standing in Professor Snape's darkened chambers. The man appeared from the bedroom and gently began pulling the door shut. Before he closed it completely, she managed to make out her own sleeping form lying on his bed.
"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly as he took a seat on the sofa. "I grew nervous upon not hearing from you."
Snape wiped a hand across his tired face and perched on the edge of his chair. "I apologize, Headmaster, but my presence was requested here."
"Oh, I see," the elder wizard responded, a smile dancing in his eyes.
The girl's eyebrows pulled together as she glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace and noticed that it was nearing five in the morning. She blew out an amazed breath and turned back to stare at the dark-haired man in the chair. She had not known that he had stayed with her. She had assumed up until now that he had left as soon as she was asleep.
Slowly settling into the couch, she felt her cheeks flush. She had asked him to stay, and he had done so.
"I take it everything went as you expected."
Severus let out a shuddering sigh and covered his face with his hands. He then shook his head. "I had not foreseen how… enthusiastic the Dark Lord would be in his efforts. He has not been so damaging since his unfortunate return, but even then…"
Hermione pulled her feet beneath her as she watched him fall silent.
"And Miss Granger? How did she fare?"
Snape leaned forward and glanced briefly at the bedroom door. "She did…she…she was remarkably strong."
"What?" she gasped in disbelief.
"She will need a fair amount of rest, Headmaster. It will likely take a few days for her head to return to normal."
"She will be excused from her classes," Dumbledore nodded. "Shall I clear your schedule as well?"
The younger man sighed and contemplated the question for a long moment. "I think I will be of more use in the classroom."
"You could use rest as well, my boy."
Severus closed his eyes. "There is a difference between needing rest and being able to attain it."
The witch rubbed her arms and wondered why he would not have taken the Dreamless Sleep draught. Her eyes widened suddenly – she could not have been dreaming that night. Her lips parted at the realization that he had actually said those things to her. He had been proud of her.
As she smiled, Snape's quarters vanished and she immediately felt herself being tugged out of the Pensieve. She felt tears forming as she stood back from the bowl and faced the Headmaster. She wiped at her eyes and then folded her arms against her chest.
"There is one other thing you should see," Dumbledore said quietly, holding out a piece of parchment.
Hermione accepted the paper and scanned her eyes across the spiky handwriting. "What is this?"
The Headmaster sighed and descended into his chair. "The first assignment I required of Severus was to provide a detailed account of each of the Dark Lord's practices."
Her hands began to shake as she briefly skimmed over the description of the binding ceremony. She did not know why she needed to read about it – she had experienced it firsthand. She still had nightmares about it periodically. It was not something she would likely ever forget in this lifetime or the next.
Letting out a weak breath, her gaze skipped down to the bottom of the parchment where Snape had penned out a list of known offenders and their victims. The girl squeezed her eyelids shut as her thumb traced across her own name listed as the victim of Severus Snape. She wanted nothing more than to erase the line of ink, or at least to alter it to reflect the fact that both she and Snape were victims of Lord Voldemort. She knew, though, that neither action would remove the guilt that he obviously felt.
Sighing, she opened her eyes and glanced briefly at the other names written above theirs. Her stomach turned a bit at the name Antonin Dolohov as she remembered the depraved smile upon the man's face after he had severely wounded her during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. With a sympathetic mind, she glanced at the woman's name penned to the immediate right of Dolohov's. It was not a name she recognized, but that did little to ease her concern. Someone else was suffering worse than she was, bound to a man who had no qualms about inflicting pain and torture.
When she noticed the set of dates listed beside the pair, she frowned.
"What does this mean?" she asked, turning it so the Headmaster could see.
Dumbledore squinted to read the numbers. "Those are the dates of the binding, I believe. The first date is when it was set in place, and the second when it ended."
"Ended?" Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean it ended?"
The elder man closed his eyes and dipped his head. "In death, I am sorry to say."
Hermione quickly snatched the paper back to look at the dates again. "But this says… the date… it says she died in 1991. That can't be. I know he was still alive this summer. He was the one…he was at the Ministry."
"Antonin Dolohov is still alive, yes," he confirmed. "The young Miss Turner most unfortunately is not. According to Severus, she was murdered when Dolohov grew tired of her. His efforts of finding a replacement, however, were hindered upon his arrest after Voldemort fell from power."
"N-no." Her entire body was shaking as she met his blue eyes. "It c-can't… Professor Snape said…he said…"
She glanced back at the parchment and quickly read through the description in its entirety.
…The life of the victim in effect becomes bound to that of the one enacting the bond. The victim shall be unable to bring unwanted harm to his or her bonder and will similarly perish in the event of the bonder's death…
"But he said his life was dependent on mine," she whispered, raising her eyes to the Headmaster. "It isn't, though, is it?"
Dumbledore sighed sadly and shook his head.
"I am bound to him," she enunciated slowly, "but he is not bound to me."
At the Headmaster's silence, Hermione slowly sank into a chair. She blew out a deep breath, dropped the paper into her lap, and covered her face with her hands. "Well, I guess it makes more sense that way, doesn't it? I mean, why would the Dark Lord risk his spy's life on mine?"
She closed her eyes for half a minute and then leaned forward. "Why would he lie to me?"
"I think," he responded, steepling his fingers, "that is something only Severus can truly answer."