Bound to Him

by georgesgurl117

At the behest of Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape is forced to commit a deplorable act against one who should have been under his protection. Bound by Dark Magic, he and Hermione Granger must learn to trust one another and themselves as they work together to thwart the dark plots surrounding them.

48. Asking Questions

A/N: Finally! I am so sorry for taking SIX WEEKS to finish this. Ugh, real life can be a nightmare!

A LOT of SS/HG interaction in this chapter, and I promise there will be more action next time. I've also had a few requests for chapter titles, so I think I will work on those as well.

Thank you for all of your continued prodding and poking. I hope you enjoy reading, and I look forward to your reviews as I watch the blizzard set in.

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Bound to Him

Chapter 48

"What do you mean?" Severus responded with a raised eyebrow.

The witch let out a small huff of air. "I think it's fairly obvious what I mean. I couldn't see them before, now all of a sudden I can, and I want to know why."

He rolled his eyes under the pretense of checking the status of the brew and then refocused his gaze on her. Taking in a deep breath, he folded his arms against his chest. "I had assumed that would be something you already knew, considering that you and the rest of Potter's gang of misfits flew all the way to London on them."

"Well, yes, I know that you have to have seen death in order to see them," she replied. "Harry saw them because of Cedric, and Luna because of her mother, but I haven't seen anyone die."

"You were not present when…"

"When Sirius died?" she finished before shaking her head and subconsciously rubbing at her sternum. "That was after I…ran into Dolohov."

He nodded once as he briefly glanced back at the bubbling cauldron. "And you began seeing them…"

"I noticed at the end of term, when I walked with Ginny and Dean to the carriages."

Snape exhaled slowly while he contemplated the situation. He could feel her expectant gaze boring into the back of his head as he quickly stood to break up a clump of herbs that had floated to the surface. Silently watching the mixture smoothen out again, he frowned as he remembered something she had said earlier that day regarding her parents.

"It's still hard to leave knowing that it's highly likely that I'll never see them again."

It was a statement that could be overlooked as a product of the bout of melancholy brought on by separation, but he remembered that she had appeared perfectly sincere at the time. She had used it offhandedly in explanation as though it was something that was set in stone.

His frown deepened as certain other memories suddenly fell into place. He could see the uncomfortable look on her face as Filius questioned her on her future plans, he could hear her disturbed thoughts as she contemplated throwing herself from the Gryffindor Tower, and he remembered her outrage at learning that she had been worrying unnecessarily about his well-being.

"I know as well as you do – there were several days where the only thing keeping me alive was the knowledge that if I died, so did you. I couldn't bear the thought of taking someone else's life along with my own. I probably would have done it if it hadn't been for you."

Grimacing, Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned to face her. "You are correct in the regard that you have to have experienced Death in order to see thestrals, but as per usual you are in need of expanding your frame of thought."

"What?" Hermione snapped, narrowing her eyes at the comment.

He sighed and cast a quick glance at the brew before explaining. "The widely-accepted explanation for the ability to see them is that one has both seen and acknowledged the concept of death, but the truth of it is far less defined. The notion that one can see them solely as a result of having witnessed someone die is bollocks."

The witch scratched her eyebrow and then shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Seeing Death and seeing someone die are not necessarily synonymous," he clarified, crossing his arms. "Who is to say what actually constitutes enough of an experience with Death? You've stared into the eyes of a soulless tyrant who prides himself on wreaking death and destruction, and have several times come far closer to your own demise than you should have. You were forced to watch your parents' murder – false memory or not, it was still real to you.

"Regardless of whether or not you've witnessed someone physically die, you have seen Death," he summarized quietly. "And you can see the thestrals because you unfortunately have accepted it as your fate."

As she processed his answer, she swallowed slowly. "What do you mean?"

Severus exhaled loudly and perched upon his stool. "Perhaps you'd care to share why you haven't given any consideration to your future education and career. And do not insult my intelligence by claiming that you have been too busy. Someone who willingly color-coordinates other people's revision schedules does not simply forget about University."

Closing her eyes, the girl rested her head upon her knees and remained silent.

"Unless you are suffering under the impression that I would prevent you from achieving –"

"No!" she interrupted sharply as her head snapped upright. "I don't think that."

When he simply raised an eyebrow in response, she sighed and wrapped her arms around her legs. Several seconds passed before Hermione spoke over the bubbling of the cauldron. "I don't see the point in wasting time thinking about something that will probably never come to be. I mean, Harry needs me to help him while I still can so… I just don't see the point."

"You've resigned yourself to die."

The statement hung in the air for nearly a minute while the witch attempted to get control of her emotions. Finally she cleared her throat and raised her chin defiantly. "I am merely thinking logically."

"Life isn't logical, Granger," he replied. "Nor is Death. Look at Potter, for Merlin's sake."

"Yeah, but what chance do we have?" she shouted, gesturing wildly between them. "What chance do I have? You risk your life every time he summons you. What happens if your shields slip? Or if he purposely feeds you false information to test you? Or if someone is watching you? What if Malfoy is watching you? Then you're dead, and I am too.

"Or me – what if I screw up again and he sees through my shields? We'd both be dead then, too! Or even if we do manage to make it to the point where he doesn't think he needs me anymore, I'm still dead! What good is a useless mud—"

"Enough," Severus stated forcefully. "That is enough."

Though she wanted to say more, the witch suppressed the urge and clamped her mouth shut.

Inhaling loudly, he folded his arms to his chest. "Yes, I risk my life, but not to the extent you're fretting about. My shields will not slip –"

"How do you know?" she whispered harshly, wiping at her eyes where a few tears had unintentionally escaped. "What if he tortures you to the point that –"

"Have you forgotten everything I've told you?" he asked, cutting her off. "Despite the fact that I am exceptionally capable of managing pain, the mind is inherently programmed to protect itself from intrusion. I can assure you that even at Death's doorstep I have kept my shields intact."

"When?" she gasped, wrapping her arms around her waist. "When was that?"

The man narrowed his eyes at her until it dawned on him as to why she was asking. "Hermione, it was not because of you."

She took in a slow breath, but did not relinquish her questioning gaze, which caused him to sigh and rub his face.

"When Dumbledore asked that I return to the Dark Lord's side, a number of the others were not convinced that I had…remained true to the cause," he explained slowly. "The Dark Lord believed I had been faithfully carrying out his commands, but still decided that the rest of the Death Eaters were in need of a physical demonstration of my loyalty."

"Oh god," she grimaced, covering her face. "How badly were you –"

"It does not matter," he interrupted. "The point is: my shields will not fail. And I have been doing this long enough to know when I am being tested. I have yet to fall for any of his traps – of which there have been many. There is no doubt in my mind that someone is monitoring me, which is why I am excruciatingly cautious at all times. But Draco Malfoy is not watching me. Not directly, at any rate."

"How do you know that? I thought you didn't know what his task was."

"If his task were to keep an eye on me, the Dark Lord would have been the one to tell him that you were under contract, so to speak, and he wouldn't have confronted you about spying on him," he argued. "No, his task is something else entirely."

The witch breathed quickly and straightened out her legs. "So if anyone gets us killed it will be me."

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but was momentarily distracted by the sound of an abnormally large bubble bursting atop the surface of the brewing potion. When he verified that all was well, he turned back to her. "Granger, you have had the Headmaster's knickers in a twist the entire term by keeping him out of your head. As long as you keep confidence, you will be fine. I have no doubts in your ability, and neither should you."

"You really mean that?" she asked softly.

He nodded in response and fixed her with steely gaze. "I will do everything in my power to keep the Dark Lord fully apprised of your value. I assure you that as long as Potter keeps himself breathing, you will not lose your usefulness. Is that understood?"

Hermione gave a slow nod and bit her lip for a few seconds before glancing up at him again. "Do you suppose that the brew has lost enough of its toxicity yet?"

The wizard took in a contemplative breath as he stood and monitored the current hue of the bubbles. "I believe it is safe for you to stare at it, yes."

Without so much as a word, she pushed out of her chair and crossed the open space of the office. Just as he was in the process of turning around, she threw her arms around him and hid her face in his robes.

"Granger," he sighed, "is it impossible for you to make it an entire day without hugging someone?"

"What if it is?" she replied, squeezing him harder.

Snape snorted as he finally slipped his arms about her shoulders. A minute later, he extracted himself from her grip and tilted her chin up with his hand. "It may seem far-fetched, but we do have a chance. I have said this before and I meant it with every fiber of my being – I will not let you die. Do you hear me through that thick hair of yours?"

Her eyes began to water as she wrapped her arms around him again. "Thank you."

He grunted uncomfortably, but replaced one arm across her back as he turned them just enough so that he could continue watching the potion.

"Severus?" she mumbled, moving her head to rest her cheek against his collarbone. "Can you see them? The thestrals?"

Sighing deeply, he nodded. "It should come as no surprise, but yes, I can see them."

"When were you first able to?"

The wizard rubbed his temples with his free hand and then cleared his throat. "When I was sixteen – not long after Easter of my fifth year."

Hermione narrowed her brows and glanced up at his face in confusion. "What happened?"

With a raised eyebrow, he looked down at her and then pointedly stared at the brewing Wolfsbane. "There was a minor incident at the Shrieking Shack."

"Oh," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Do you honestly feel that you are responsible for something that occurred three years before you were even born?" he sneered.

"Well, no," she sighed, stepping away from him and running a hand through her hair. "It just never sat well with me when I heard Sirius bragging about that. I never told anyone this – mainly because Harry and Ron would probably never speak to me again and my parents would have withdrawn me for certain if they had known about what happened – but I actually sent an anonymous letter to the Daily Prophet before finding out that you had told Slytherin House about Remus being a werewolf."

Snape snapped his eyes to her in disbelief. "You what?"

The girl winced slightly and then shrugged. "As a concerned student, I wrote a letter. I figured it out when you set the essay, but I thought that since Dumbledore had allowed him to teach that he was responsible – minus the whole Boggart incident, of course. I thought that was exceptionally careless considering the status of things, and I was rather relieved that Harry was ahead of me actually. But anyway, when he didn't take his Wolfsbane, and it seemed like Dumbledore wasn't going to do anything about it after the whole thing, I wrote the letter."

"You weren't released from the Hospital Wing until after I announced it," he stated, crossing his arms.

With a smirk, Hermione crossed back to her chair. "I didn't surrender my Time-Turner until end of term. I waited until the boys were asleep and Madame Pomfrey was gone, and then I went back to just before you brought us to the Hospital Wing. I managed to get up to the Owlery undetected, wrote it with the spare parchment and ink up there, and waited to send it just before dawn. Since the Hospital Wing was locked from the outside, it was easy to get back in. No one ever questioned why it was unlocked, either."

"You mean to tell me that there were three of you running about the castle and grounds unsupervised?" He took a slow breath of censure and then wiped his face in exasperation. "Do you know how incredibly dangerous that was? Not to mention exceptionally stupid."

"I know," she sighed as she sat down. "I didn't consider it then, but I did after. I especially regretted doing it after I found out he would have resigned anyway."

The wizard let out a puff of air and glanced at the cauldron once more. "After all of that, you were still excited to see Lupin back teaching?"

"Well, I consider him a friend now," she shrugged. "Besides, he's the best Defense professor we've had the entire time I've been here. He doesn't have an undead Dark Lord growing out of the back of his head, he doesn't lie about everything but his hair, he hasn't stolen anyone's identity or traumatized students –"

"I beg to differ on that count."

With a wince, she nodded. "Fair enough, but he does actually let us practice magic. He may waste time and focus on less important things, but he's miles ahead of the rest."

"Wastes time?" he queried with a raised eyebrow.

"He spends an entire week's worth of classes on what you manage to cover in a one-hour session."

Severus smirked and cocked his head. "Perhaps I have the benefit of teaching an accelerated learner."

The witch blushed slightly but shook her head. "If that were the case, explain Neville. Using your method, he surpassed Harry within two class periods."

"You make it sound as if surpassing Potter is any great feat," he jeered. "I assure you it is not."

"Well he got an Outstanding on his Defense OWL," she argued.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger," he groaned, rolling his eyes, "are you seriously that worked up that you only Exceeded Expectations? Might I point you in the direction of the nearest dictionary so that you can refresh yourself on the definition of exceeded?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "Might I point you in that direction? Since exceeding isn't good enough to get into your class. I know the only reason Harry's in Potions is because of me."

The dark-haired man slammed his mouth shut and glared at the bubbling potion. Begrudgingly he grumbled, "You may have a point."

"May have?" she sneered. "I do have a point."

"Well then," he replied with a tone that hinted at amusement, "There's an inkwell on my desk and a stack of parchment in the top drawer that you're welcome to use."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Use for what?"

"To write a letter," he smirked. "You can send it to the Headmaster. He'll read it, I'm certain, just so he can disregard it and chuck it in the bin with all of the other suggestions for improving my classroom."

Her cheeks flushed at the realization that he was poking fun at her, but her temper vanished quickly as another thought drifted into her head. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"The Headmaster?" he asked, adopting a quizzical expression.

"No," she shook her head. "Remus. You're not going to tell him that I'm the one who outed him to the Prophet, are you?"

"Absolutely not," Snape responded, leaning against the worktable. "The furball believes he has cause enough to keep tabs on you, so it would be best to avoid giving him anything more for his arsenal. Besides, even without your letter, it would have only been a few hours before the first concerned Slytherin student's letter reached the editors. So really the only difference is that you undoubtedly feel unnecessarily guilty."

"Well, not that guilty anymore," she muttered under her breath before settling into the back of the chair.

The wizard arched one eyebrow at the comment, but opted to let it slide as the sound of a charm caught his attention. Automatically, he picked up the long crystal stirring rod and began moving it through the brew in a slow clover-leaf pattern. When he reached the mental count of forty-two stirs, he wiped the rod on the side of the cauldron and set it down on the end of the bench.

Glancing over his shoulder, he snorted at the sight of Hermione biting down on her lip as she stared at him with curiosity obviously burning within her eyes. "Yes?"

The girl startled briefly and rubbed her shoulder. "Oh, erm…nothing."

"Do not take me for a fool, Granger," he sneered. "I can personally attest to the fact that there is never 'nothing' going on in that head of yours."

With a slight blush of embarrassment, she cleared her throat softly. "Well, I guess I was just wondering…erm… how many OWLS you received."

With wide eyes, the Potions Master spun on his heel and faced her. "Now you wish to enter into an academic pissing contest with me?"

"I'm just curious!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sure that you've heard curiosity killed the cat," he remarked.

Hermione smiled and tilted her head. "Unless you ask my grandfather. He always maintained that it was stupidity that was truly responsible. Curiosity was just at the wrong time and wrong place."

"He sounds like an intelligent individual," Severus replied, crossing his arms again. "Very well, if you insist. I received ten OWLS, same as you."

"You kept track of my OWL results?" she queried.

The wizard smirked and shook his head slightly. "Merely because Minerva was down here with your sheet like a cat with a dead mouse at its feet waiting to be praised. She wanted to lord it over me that one of her cubs outscored everyone in my House."

Fighting back a grin, the girl cleared her throat. "And how did you score?"

He shook his head and turned back to the cauldron. "I have no desire to tell you."

"Does that mean I did better than you?" she asked smugly. "Or that you earned all 'O's?"

"Indeed," he answered, picking up the stirring rod again as he waited for another charm to sound.

The Gryffindor frowned. "To which one?"

"To the correct one," he responded coyly, beginning another round of clover-leafed stirs.

Hermione let out a heated breath and glared at his back in frustration. "I could ask Professor McGonagall."

"Minerva will not tell you."

"Maybe not," she sighed, snuggling into the chair. "And maybe she won't have to say anything."

Rolling his eyes, the wizard grumbled quietly. "How far have you come on your reading?"

"I've finished both books," she replied.

"I believe the assignment was to read them twice."

The witch snickered and pushed herself forward. "I'm almost through the second book the second time."

"The sooner you finish, the sooner we can begin the practical portion," Snape instructed.

"Yes, sir," she smiled, slipping out of the chair and heading toward the secret staircase. "I'll be back in a minute."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

As the final charm sounded, Severus stifled a yawn and rolled his shoulders before completing the last required stir. When he was finished, he wiped off the stirring rod and then cast a stasis charm over the brew. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was nearing five. Rubbing his forehead, he turned around and saw that Hermione was still curled into the chair, sound asleep with her book lying open on her chest. She had not managed more than a few hours' worth of reading before finally drifting off to sleep.

Watching her chest rise and fall with the deep breaths of slumber, he rested his hip against the work table for a few moments before he began moving towards her sleeping form. As she did not wake at his approach, he removed the book from her hands, mentally noted her place before closing it, and then set it upon his desk.

Part of him knew that he should wake her up and send her through the Floo to the Gryffindor Common Room, but he ignored the notion and instead gently gathered her into his arms. Whereas earlier he had silenced that voice out of concern for her general well-being and uncertainty of the curse, he now argued that it was simply a matter of convenience. It was already morning; her things were still in his quarters; and she would have to return to his office unseen in a few hours anyway. Of course he forced himself to overlook the fact that he enjoyed having someone with whom he could share his space and the uncomfortable truth that he had spent far too much of his time the past week wondering if everything was alright at his grandmother's cottage.

As he carefully climbed the stairs up to his bedroom, the sleeping witch shifted slightly within his arms and snuggled against his chest. A nervous bubble rose from his stomach as he questioned whether he was making it worse. He had surrendered to her attempted seduction earlier because he realized that it had already been two weeks since they had renewed their bond, and since he was fairly certain that they had both spent time thinking about how she had kissed him, he had been worried about how the magic might respond to her unfulfilled request. As it stood now, however, the binding was fully satisfied and would remain so for at least another fortnight.

So why are you further tempting Fate? The bitch has yet to pass up an opportunity to rake the two of you over the coals. Severus sighed loudly as the bedroom door swung open at his presence, and he made quick work of placing the girl in the bed. After haphazardly draping the covers over her, he retreated to the lavatory to relieve his bladder, which had been protesting for the past hour or so. When he had finished, he slowly returned to the bedroom and began unbuttoning his shirt.

I should send her to her own bed. He frowned slightly as he tossed his shirt over the armchair and then proceeded to slip his belt out from his trousers. After discarding that, he leaned against the chair long enough to kick off his boots. He was too tired to bother changing into pajamas, so he opted to leave on his trousers. Well, if I let her stay here, I should at least sleep on the sofa. I should –

A large yawn forced its way out as his body interrupted his mind with its demand for more oxygen. Further ignoring the rational section of his brain, he crossed over to the bed and slid beneath the covers on the side of the bed opposite Hermione. Pulling the comforter over his shoulder, he turned slightly to face the wall and closed his eyes.

He was seconds away from succumbing to slumber when the mattress shifted faintly and a small weight fell across his torso. Peeking out from beneath one eyelid to see the slender arm draped over him, he snorted beneath his breath.

Even in sleep, she can't keep her bloody arms to herself. Sighing deeply, he nestled his head further into the pillow and soon drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, a bandy-legged feline ambled into the room and leaped onto the foot of the bed. Gingerly stepping over his persons' limbs, he made his way toward the pillows and then curled up into a ball between their heads.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

As Hermione descended the staircase into his office after showering and dressing for the day, she scratched her eyebrow and wondered if the dark-haired wizard ever slept. He had stayed up working long after she had fallen asleep and had already been absent from his quarters when she had awaken more than half an hour before. Granted, it had been noon already, but she was surprised that he had not waken her up earlier given the smug expression that had been on his face the day before. Furthermore, she was surprised to have woken up in his bed again – selfishly sprawled across it, actually – since she distinctly recalled curling up in his armchair to sleep.

The witch stifled a snort as a blatantly obvious sense of déjà vu washed over her. The Potions Master was dressed and standing exactly how he had been the night before when she had entered his office. For a brief moment she pondered the notion that he had never actually left that spot, but shook her head, knowing that he had to have had some sleep to still be functioning.

Perhaps he slept on the sofa? She felt slightly guilty over the prospect of having displaced him from his own bed, but she reminded herself that he had been the one to set her there. He could have claimed half of it if he wanted. She would not have protested. After all, it's not like we haven't spent time together there before.

A blush graced her cheeks as she attempted to push away the memories of their return to the castle, and as if sensing that she had mentally delved into inappropriate territory, the wizard turned his head to glance at her. Clearing her throat, she offered a nervous smile. "Good morning."

"Morning?" Severus snorted, gesturing to the clock. "I believe the correct term would be 'afternoon'."

"Oops," she murmured, grimacing slightly as her stomach rumbled.

With a raised eyebrow, he shifted his attention back to the bubbling cauldron, but snapped, "Dobby!"

A pop resounded in reply to his summons, and the elf appeared with eyes widened in eager anticipation. "Yes, Master Snape, sir?"

He sighed slightly at the three poorly knitted hats stacked atop each other in a droopy pile on the creature's head and then stared pointedly at the girl next to his desk. "Fetch Miss Granger something to eat."

As Dobby enthusiastically shuffled away and asked Hermione what she would prefer, the man wiped his face and returned to his sentry of the potion. He looked up out of habit when the elf disapparated back to the kitchens and again a few minutes later when it reappeared with a number of dishes precariously balanced on his gangly limbs.

"Set them on the desk," he instructed, "and see to it that you don't upset anything."

The girl stepped forward with eyes widened in surprise and held up her hands in case the elf dropped something. "Oh, Dobby! I didn't need this much food!"

"Dobby is sorry," he mumbled, ducking his head as he finished setting down an entire stack of pancakes, a warmed dish of syrup, platters of bacon and scrambled eggs, and a bowl filled with assorted fruit. "Dobby only thought that because Master Snape, sir said that Hermione Granger was needing to eat more –"

"It's alright, Dobby!" she interrupted, concerned that the elf would punish himself. She glanced for a moment at the Slytherin, who appeared to be ignoring them, and then forced a smile onto her face. "I'll eat whatever I can. Thank you."

After giving her a toothy grin, the creature bowed and snapped into thin air.

"Well," Hermione sighed, sinking into Snape's desk chair and staring at the plentiful breakfast spread. "Since you've managed to convince him I need to eat as much as an entire Quidditch team, would you care to join me?"

"I've already eaten," he replied.

She gave a small groan and grimaced at all of the food that would undoubtedly go to waste. When she felt an expectant stare boring through her, however, she picked up the fork that had been provided to her and began loading a plate.

"When you've finished a satisfactory serving, we may begin revisiting Veritaserum."

"Satisfactory?" she mumbled after swallowing a bite of pancake. "Are you going to begin monitoring my caloric intake now?"

Ignoring her sarcastic tone, Severus crossed his arms and glared at the Wolfsbane. "If it should become necessary."

The girl frowned as she stabbed at her eggs, inwardly cursing her mother for mentioning her former affliction in front of him. "I don't have an eating disorder."

"Then it should not become necessary," he responded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Blowing out a deep breath, she returned to the task in front of her and let him be for the time being. By the time he had completed another round of stirring, she was struggling to finish the last half of her banana. Eventually deciding it was not worth the effort, she sighed and dropped it back to her plate. "I'm finished."

When he turned and gave her plate an appraising stare, the witch folded her arms in exasperation.

"Alright," he nodded a few seconds later and set down his crystal stirring rod. Crossing over to his desk, he shooed her out of the chair and then reached beneath the desk to release a hidden drawer. As he stood back up, he caught her watching him in interest, and he raised an eyebrow.

Hermione smirked and dropped her eyes to the floor as she sank into her usual armchair. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Indeed," he commented, stepping around the end of his desk. Coming to stand in front of her, he twisted off the cap of the tiny vial and eyed her in deliberation.

"One shot or two?" she snickered.

Severus rubbed his chin and tilted his head. "I was entertaining the notion of three."

"Three?" Her eyes widened into saucers. "But I barely managed two!"

"Conquer three, and two will be of little consequence," he advised, filling the dropper with the clear liquid. "Remember that the stronger dose will wear off much quicker. If you feel that it is too challenging, we will return to two drops."

"How long?" she asked quickly before he raised the dropper.

"Approximately an hour or so," he replied. "Now are you ready? Or do you have more dawdling to do? I have another six hours to waste if you do."

The witch closed her eyes and snorted. "I can be ready."

"Very well." When she opened her mouth, he dribbled three quick drops of the serum onto her tongue and then pushed her jaw shut. He waited until she had swallowed before screwing the cap shut on the vial and dropping it into the pocket of his trousers. "What is your full name?"

"Hermione Jean Granger," she spewed immediately. "Fuck."

"Language."

"Sorry," she blushed. "It's just so strong!"

He nodded and moved back towards his stool so that he could still keep an eye on the bubbling brew. "I will give you a minute to develop an attempt at shielding."

Hermione nodded and slammed her eyes shut as she focused on the overwhelming sense of numbness in her head. She opened her eyes when he cleared his throat a short while later.

"What is your full name?"

"Unggahermione Jean Grrrranger." She winced and grabbed her head. "Oh god, that hurts."

Snape leaned his elbow onto the work table beside him. "It was an honorable attempt, Granger –"

"I wish you'd call me Hermione," she interrupted before her eyes widened and she slammed her mouth shut. "I didn't mean to say that aloud."

"Of course not," he smirked, resting his head against his hand. "Into which House did the Sorting Hat place you?"

"Grrryffindor, though he…c-c-considerrrred all of the other Houses," the girl grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut as she attempted to build a stronger shield.

The wizard found himself somewhat surprised by her response. "All of the other Houses?"

"Yyyes."

"And what were his reasons for contemplating Slytherin?"

"He said I was c-clever, rrrresourceful, and eeeager to…prove myself, but…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to fight the compulsion to respond. When she felt her shields failing, she bit down on her tongue to keep silent, but the pull proved too strong. "I didn't have enough self-preservation and it wasn't yet time to upset the balance."

The Potions Master snorted softly and quirked his lips in agreement with the Hat's assessment. He eyed a large bubble with concern until it gently dissolved into many smaller ones, and then cast a look over his shoulder. "Where did you spend Christmas?"

"B-bakers….nggghh….f-field-d-d-c-cot…."

He watched her face as she attempted to hold back the information and when he witnessed her pinched expression as she became silent, he pushed off of his stool and rushed towards her. Grabbing hold of her chin, he pressed against the sides of her jaw and shook his head. "Hermione, stop biting down."

"Cottage!" she gasped as her jaw released and her eyes flew open. There was the hint of a coppery taste in her mouth and she grimaced at the stinging of her tongue.

"You cannot do that again," he snapped, maintaining his hold on her face. "You could very well bite through your tongue and cause serious damage. For the purposes of our sessions, if you cannot mentally divert a response, let it slip through. Are we clear?"

"Yes," she nodded, whimpering slightly. "I'm sorry."

"I have no need for an apology," the man remarked, letting go of her and returning to his seat. "Take a moment to rest and meditate. I will not ask any more questions until I've finished the next round of stirs."

Letting out a groan, the witch covered her face with her hands and sank into her chair. She ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth until it stopped hurting and then took several slow breaths. It was bloody near impossible to defeat the pull of the Veritaserum –

"It will be more difficult to hold your shields in place, as you are the one ultimately trying to reveal the information. You will always have more influence in your own mind than an outsider can have."

Memories and thoughts were spiraling around in her head like a tempest. It was a bit nauseating to say the least, and it reminded her slightly of being on the spinning amusement park ride her father had convinced her to go on when she was nine. She had screamed herself hoarse while he laughed, but he had not found it near so entertaining when she vomited on his lap.

"How amusing," Snape quipped as he picked up the stirring rod and began another set of clover-leafs. "It sounds as if you are enjoying your brief foray into the experience of Legilimency."

"This is what it's like?" she asked, raising one eyelid.

Snape nodded as he worked. "It is."

"It's bloody awful!" she cried.

He chuckled quietly and gave another slight nod. "Precisely the reason why it remains an underutilized art."

"I can see why."

When he finished stirring a minute later, he cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"

"Nope."

He rubbed his forehead and hid his smile behind his hand. "And what is your full name?"

"Hermmmione J-jean Gr-r-r-Snape!" she stammered breathlessly before collapsing against the chair.

Severus's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline, and it felt as though his heart stopped for a moment. Swallowing uncertainly, he gradually turned towards her with a questioning stare.

Feeling the tension descending upon the room, the witch blinked slowly and then glanced at his pale face. She flushed immediately upon realizing what she had said. "Sorry, it was the first name I could think of since you were standing right there."

He slowly nodded and looked away as he recovered his mental faculties. He then cleared his throat and arched one eyebrow. "Well, it seems you're making progress in resisting."

"Or the serum's wearing off," she added dryly.

The wizard glanced up at the clock and then shook his head. "It has only been half an hour. It should not have diminished quite yet."

"Oh."

Opting to avoid any further incidents with her name, he paused for a moment before deciding upon a different question. "Are your parents alive?"

Hermione winced at the question. "Ye-No. No. They're both dead."

A gratified expression suddenly appeared on his face. "Hermione, do you realize what you've just done?"

"N-n-yes? No?" Her brow narrowed in confusion. "I have no idea how to answer that question."

Severus smirked as he sat back upon his stool. "You've just managed to resist a full dose of extra-strength Veritaserum in under an hour."

"Extra-strength?!" she shouted. "You son-of-a-bitch! You gave me extra-strength?"

"I gave you what any of the Dark Lord's followers would have given you," he responded with an amused shrug. "I assure you that any Ministry-sanctioned interrogation will give you little trouble compared to that."

"Holy shite," she whispered, resting her elbows on her legs and then groaning. "Why the hell do I keep cursing?"

"A normal side effect," he smirked. "You are not as capable of thinking before speaking as you would be under normal circumstances."

She raised one lip in disgust and rubbed the back of her neck. "Damn. I can't believe that you didn't tell me that. I thought I was failing miserably!"

"Failing miserably?" he sneered. "I don't think you would be capable of that in regards to any topic. Have you completely overlooked the fact that ninety-nine percent of the population would never be able to do what you just did even after an entire lifetime's worth of attempting it?"

"Yes! No! Damn it!" She ran both hands through her hair and shook her head. "Stop asking me rhetorical questions! I'm not supposed to answer them, but I have to answer them, and I don't know how to without sounding like a total idiot!"

Snape failed to stifle a laugh during her outraged rant. "Hermione, in six years you have never once appeared to be a total idiot, but I am sorry to have confused you. It was not my intention."

The witch stood up and blew out a long breath as she grabbed onto the back of the chair. "When aren't you confusing me lately? For five years you've been cold and critical and condescending, but now you're apologizing and giving me compliments and answering my questions… and cracking jokes! Nobody would ever believe me if I told them that Professor Snape actually has a sense of humor! Or that he's a good kisser. Merlin, they'd have me committed for that. It just doesn't make any sense though. I mean, I used to be so afraid of him, and now… I actually like spending time with him. Some days I'd rather be here than with Harry or Ron – especially now that Lav-lav's constantly draped over his lap. Though I suppose I can't crow too terribly loud any more, can I? Not after last night. Not after –"

"Granger, that is far enough on that line of thought."

Hermione's eyes widened and all of the color drained from her face before being replaced by a vibrant shade of crimson. She looked to where he sat rigidly, digging his fingertips into his thighs as he pointedly stared at the cauldron instead of her. "Ohhhh god…that was all out loud, wasn't it?"

At his nod, she squeaked in shame and sank down behind the chair. "I hate Veritaserum!"

"Well it has no great fondness for you either," he sneered, risking a glance in her direction. "Are you planning on sitting on the floor for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Until this crap wears off, yes," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "In that case, what was your Boggart your third year?"

"Professor McGona-g-gall…"

Severus waited a few seconds, but when she managed not to say anything else he relaxed his shoulders. "Yes, I imagine she would be quite frightening."

"Not funny," she mumbled.

"And what did the Boggart Deputy Headmistress have to say to you?"

"She said that…" Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she fought to find a suitable lie. "She said that I had been adopted and that I was actually a Malfoy."

He grinned slightly and folded his arms. "Despite the fact you can't hold your tongue, you are improving at dodging direct questions."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that wasn't what she said?"

"Because it was a running joke in the Slytherin dormitory for nearly a week," he sighed.

"Prats," she whispered.

"Indeed," he grunted, standing up to tend to the bubbling potion once more. "I shall ask you again: Where did you spend Christmas?"

"B-ba-burrow," she managed. "The Burrow."

"Bravo."

The girl exhaled loudly and rubbed her head. "Can we be done for now?"

He nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish."

"It is." With a relieved sigh, she relaxed against the corner of the chair and closed her eyes. Though she was initially content to wait out the remainder of the serum in silence, her curiosity soon got the better of her. "Severus, can I ask you a question?"

"You may ask," he replied cautiously. "Whether I answer is another matter altogether."

Hermione picked at a thread on her jeans and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Why would Professor Dumbledore have chucked my letter in the bin if I had suggested improvements for your classroom?"

"I have been teaching the same way for fifteen years," he responded. "You can be certain that I receive dozens of complaints every year, but the Headmaster has yet to suggest the implementation of any such changes."

The girl peeked around the chair and raised one eyebrow. "Not even your blatant impartiality? Or exclusivity?"

"Quite the opposite, in fact," Snape smirked.

"What?"

The Potions Master inhaled deeply and finally turned towards her. "There are reasons behind my selective instruction. Potion-brewing is a very dangerous subject, and can be used for destructive purposes –"

"So you're purposely slanting it toward the children of Death Eaters?" she cried. "How can he support that?"

"For appearance's sake, yes, I favor them," he sighed. "Though I would ask that you consider the representative population of my Advanced Potions and NEWT classes before you get too terribly indignant."

Hermione narrowed her brow as she mentally revisited her Potions class. There were fourteen students in total, and from Slytherin there were Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis. "Less than a third of the class is from Slytherin."

He nodded. "And that is abnormally high compared to the other years. It just so happens that there were several individuals of above normal intellect in this grouping of students. You may notice that there is only one of my House in the current NEWT course."

"But…" She paused momentarily and tilted her head as a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Oh my god – you're handicapping them! You hold them less accountable for everything in class, but everyone has to take the same OWL exam. And that's why you only accept 'O' students, isn't it? You actually expect to train us in the last two years, so you're attempting to further limit the number of Slytherins in the course."

"Five points to Gryffindor," he stated softly.

Her jaw dropped and she shook her head in disbelief. "Is there anything you don't do with a strategy in mind?"

"Slytherin," he reminded with raised eyebrows.

She laughed quietly and ducked her head for a minute before another question came to mind. "What did the Hat mean when he said I didn't have enough self-preservation to be in Slytherin?"

Snape blew out a long breath and stroked his chin. "I would imagine he was referring to your heritage. I do not see that you would have been willing to renounce or hide your upbringing, and as he said, the time is not yet right for an outspoken Muggleborn in the House of Salazar Slytherin."

"You mean there have been non-outspoken Muggleborns in your House?"

He nodded once, crossing his arms. "There have been a few during my tenure. I cannot attest to the frequency prior to that since blood impurities are not broadcast within the dormitory."

"Is there one currently?"

The man hesitated for a moment before giving an affirmative. "I tell you this only because I trust that you will neither discuss this with anyone nor will you approach or draw any attention to the student in question."

"Of course not," she agreed, picking herself up from the floor and reclaiming her seat.

He sighed and dropped his voice out of habit. "Davis isn't a Wizarding name."

"Doesn't everyone else recognize that?"

"They do," Severus replied, "which is why following my introduction to the new class of Slytherins, I asked after her father's health and inquired as to whether or not he had made any progress in locating his biological parents. Miss Davis was intelligent enough not to ask any questions of me until I could take her aside and explain the current social climate."

"I don't think I would have caught on that fast," she grimaced, shaking her head.

"Which is why you currently sport maroon and gold as opposed to silver and green." He rolled his shoulders and adjusted the button on the cuff of his shirt. "Besides, had you been sorted into Slytherin, it would have been much easier to establish your magical reputation."

The girl narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There is a well-known Master of Potions, Hector Dagworth-Granger," he answered. "As the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, he has undoubtedly been considered a very noteworthy Slytherin alumnus. I merely would have had to point out that connection, and no one would have questioned your placement. Until you tried establishing the House-Elf Liberation Front, of course."

Hermione grimaced and relaxed against the back of the chair. "The serum's worn off, I think."

"I can tell." A brief quiet settled upon the rooms until he cleared his throat. "Why is it that you were relieved you did not have to face your Boggart in front of the class when you announced it to them anyway?"

The witch took in a deep breath and turned her face into the side of the chair. "Perhaps because I didn't tell the whole truth when Ron asked me. Remus is only one who knows what it actually was."

"It wasn't actually the Malfoy-adoption angle, was it?"

She chuckled morosely and shook her head. "No, it started out like I said – Professor McGonagall told me that I had failed all of my exams – but then she…she said that because of it I didn't belong at Hogwarts or in the Wizarding World at all. She said that she… regretted ever having offered me a magical education. It was a mistake, because I… very clearly did not belong here."

With a shocked expression on his face, Severus watched as she pulled her feet onto the chair and hid her face behind her knees. She had sounded exceptionally close to tears, and when he heard her muffled sniffles, he swallowed uncomfortably. Running one hand through his hair, he took a step nearer her. "Gr—Hermione…"

"I know I'm being stupid, so you don't need to say it," she mumbled, wiping at her eyes and turning her face away from him. "I just never had any friends before I came here. I didn't have any siblings or cousins, and everyone at my primary school thought I was too odd or too smart or too strange-looking to befriend. I used to always tell my parents I was going to run away to someplace that was different; someplace where they would like me because I obviously wasn't wanted there.

"And when Professor McGonagall was sitting in my living room, I thought it was the chance I'd been waiting for. I begged my parents for days until they finally agreed to send me, but it really wasn't all that different," she sighed. "Even here they thought I was odd and strange-looking and annoying. The only one who seemed to like me was Neville actually."

"Longbottom?" he queried awkwardly. "And what of the lesser two-thirds of your troublesome trio?"

The witch shook her head and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "They disliked me for months. It wasn't until the troll that they felt guilty enough to come find me, and then they started being nice to me because I lied for them. I never went looking for the troll."

"That much was blatantly obvious," he sighed, conjuring up a handkerchief and then holding it out to her. "It was a rather pitiful attempt on your part."

"It's not your fault," she whispered after accepting it from him. "I said it was, but you weren't the one who turned me into a liar. I did that myself because I just wanted to be liked. I'm sorry that I blamed you for it."

"Hermione –"

"And I'm sorry for telling you all of this," she interrupted quickly. "I've been thinking about this recently and I just needed someone to listen. I figured you might understand and wouldn't think me a terrible person for it since I overheard what you told Remus. I'm sorry about that, too. I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I saw you leave the Great Hall and I thought something might have happened, so I went through your quarters to speak to you, but you and Remus were quarreling. I should have left, but I didn't and I'm sorry."

Snape closed his eyes briefly as he processed her admission and then shook his head. "You do not need to apologize. I do not find myself angry with you."

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking up to meet his gaze. As he gave a nod, she bit down on her lip and hesitantly reached for his hand. A strange calm washed over her when he did not pull away and instead held her hand within his. He gently swept his thumb across her knuckles, but released it immediately upon hearing a gurgling noise from the other side of the room.

While he rushed back to the cauldron and yanked the stirring rod from the work table, the girl slowly pulled her hand back to her chest. She took in a steadying breath as she watched him tend to the potion.

At the feel of her eyes upon him, Severus glanced at her and dipped his head. "I do understand."