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.

54. Some Measure of Compromise

A/N: That took way too long to write. Uff da. But I actually got to spend ten days with the family, so that was nice - even if it meant you had to look elsewhere for something to read. (Sorry.)

Thank you all for your continued reviews and for the PMs of encouragement! You are all phenomenal!

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Bound to Him

Chapter 54

As the dinner hour arrived, Snape sat at his desk; his head safely ensconced in a Bubblehead charm as he finished marking the last of the sixth years' holiday essays. He had just penned the 'E' on Tracey Davis's parchment when the fireplace flashed green. Before his unsuspecting caller could see the bubble, he cancelled the charm and artfully leaned into his hand so as to cover his nose.

"There you are, Severus," Minerva sighed. "Might I come through?"

"You may." Though he was disappointed it was not Lupin who had come knocking, he still smirked in anticipation beneath his hand.

"I tried your quarters, but received no – Oh, what the hell is that stench!" The Deputy Headmistress pinched her nose a few seconds after having stepped out of the fireplace.

"That would be the murtlap pickling, madam," he replied calmly. "I thought Poppy might need a bit more than she has currently."

"And you had to do that now?" she scoffed, blinking as her eyes began to water.

He shrugged casually. "I thought it might keep the wolf at bay. Either that, or he would be too distracted by the urge to roll in it that he would not pick up on her scent."

McGonagall snorted softly. "And where is Hermione?"

"Sleeping upstairs."

She gave a short nod and then gestured to the Floo. "Is it possible to converse elsewhere, preferably before we both end up pickling our brains?"

"As you wish," the wizard murmured, standing from his chair and following her through the Floo into his sitting room. As his colleague made a show of inhaling fresh air, he crossed quickly to his bedroom doorway. When he ascertained that the witch was still lost in slumber, he closed the door and returned to his armchair.

"Yes, stay over there," the woman warned, choosing a seat on the furthest end of the sofa. "Now, is she alright?"

He let out a tired sigh and nodded.

"May I ask what was wrong?"

Severus winced and glared at the fireplace. A long moment later, he rubbed his forehead. "Are you familiar with the effects of the Voluptatum Eternis?"

The Gryffindor raised her eyebrow. "I assume that by 'familiar' you are not asking if I have ever partaken in the manufacture or consumption of an illegal substance."

"That, madam, is something I do not wish to know," he sneered.

Minerva smirked and nodded. "I should think not, but yes, I am aware of it. During my brief time in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, there was a rash of 'The-Everlasting-Orgasm' druggings. I actually received a demerit for hexing one of my superiors when he made an off-handed remark about whether it should even have been considered a crime. I made sure to always check my tea whenever he was nearby after that."

"Probably wise."

She crossed her arms. "Why do you ask? Albus hasn't suggested adding that to the curriculum, has he?"

The man shook his head and kept his eyes fixed on the hearth. "It appears that the magic of the bond can produce similar symptoms."

"What?" Her eyes widened in shock, and she leaned forward in her chair. "That's what was wrong? My gods, how long?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "She wasn't exactly fully coherent when she stumbled into my office, though I would imagine it's been at least a day."

"An entire day?" The witch covered her face and then glanced at him. "Did you know this could happen?"

"Of course I didn't know!" he shouted, launching out of his chair. "Of the handful of written accounts I've managed to find, only one of them even remotely hinted at something like this, and I thought it was absolute horse-shite! The author went on and on, repeatedly describing how his wife would be consumed by thoughts of him and writhe with passion before him, begging for his seed, whenever he would withhold intimacy from her for a certain period of time, and how she would scream in pleasure when he finally granted her it. I just assumed he was some narcissistic sadist who couldn't fucking tell the difference between pain and ecstasy!"

"Well, he certainly still sounds like a sadist to me," Minerva mumbled as she watched him pace.

Running his hands through his hair, he fixed her with pained look. "If I had thought there was any chance of it being true, I would have warned her about it. But I didn't."

"I believe you."

He grimaced and punched the edge of the mantel. "If I had thought that, I would have seen it yesterday and dealt with it then… before this happened! "

"Severus, it wasn't your fault," she sighed.

He whirled around in response. "She was distracted to the point that she nearly poured her boiling hot potion on herself, Minerva! I saw what she was thinking about, and do you know what I did? I took points! I yelled at her! I told her that if it happened again, she would be sorry. Like it was her fault, like she was the one bringing it upon herself – and because of that she thought she had to apologize for it!"

McGonagall inhaled deeply and patted the seat beside her. "Sit. It does no good to stand and shout. You'll only wake her up, and you're not in any condition to handle her just now."

With a concerned glance to the bedroom door, he crossed over to the sofa and sank onto the cushion. Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, he stared at the floor and muttered, "It doesn't seem to matter what I do, because it all goes to shit anyway. And she's the one who bears the brunt of it."

The witch closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed a hand across his back. When he did not shy away from her touch, she leaned over and rested her chin on his left shoulder. "You also bear more than your share."

He pretended not to hear her, and then cleared his throat a minute later when her other hand rested on his arm. "Minerva."

"Hmmm?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

She quirked a small grin as she simultaneously squeezed his right shoulder and left arm. "I believe it's called mothering."

"Well, stop it."

The Gryffindor Head sighed as she sat upright, but left one hand on his spine.

"Shouldn't you be at supper?" he grumbled.

McGonagall gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "I am presently taking dinner in my office with Miss Granger after she assisted me with filing all of those pesky confiscation reports before tomorrow's deadline. You know how they've multiplied now that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is a licensed venture."

"Those reports were due by the first," the wizard muttered, glancing back at her.

"Oh were they?"

"And I know you've already filed them because you were over here flaunting it in my face at having finished two days ahead of schedule."

The woman smirked and patted the back of her head. "Well, now that you mention it, I do recall something to that effect. Anyway, we'll get to chatting as witches tend to do and lose track of time as I regale her with stories of my youth."

Severus rolled his eyes as he sat back against the couch. "Now we'll just have to find a viable explanation for her not dying of sheer boredom."

"Hush it," she snapped. "We do, however, have to think of an alternative to this arrangement, because you cannot pickle murtlap every time the two of you have to –"

"I could also boil skunk cabbage in preparation for brewing a stock of the laxative potion."

Minerva stared at him in censure and folded her arms. "Severus Snape."

"Fine," he sighed. "I suppose we'll have to return to utilizing the Room of Requirement unless you can offer up a better alternative."

The witch shook her head. "That'll have to do for now. I've already given you my spare chambers to live in; I draw the line at lending my own bedroom for your extra-curricular activities."

"Fucking hell," the man growled, pinching the bridge of his nose while she chuckled quietly.

The clock began to strike the hour, and after the sixth and final chime faded, she rubbed her cheek and leaned against the armrest. "Severus?"

"What?" he snapped, turning his head toward her.

"Have the two of you spoken since the incident with Remus?"

Snape took in a slow breath. "We've maintained conversation, but I assume you're asking if we've had some groundbreaking heart-to-heart."

"And I assume that's a negative," she snorted sadly. "I'm not going to be your go-between, Severus. I will hold your secrets and I will hold hers, but if either of you want to understand the other, that is on the both of you."

He frowned in response and folded his arms to his chest. "I've given her leave to ask questions if she wants."

"What makes you think she would be comfortable about prying into your private affairs?" she countered. "The fact that you've been an authority figure in her life for the past five years? One, whom I might add, had never given her the time of day before the summer. Or that you're secretive enough to lie directly to You-Know-Who's face and walk away? Or maybe because you respond to those who care about you with abrasive comments and outright insults? Or perhaps because when you do show concern for others you bury it in sarcasm and demands?"

The wizard blinked slowly and dropped his gaze to his lap.

Minerva took in a steadying breath and shifted in her seat so that she was facing him. Placing her hand on his knee, she spoke in a gentle tone. "You're an exceptionally private person, and I understand why. You've had to be in order to survive. You walk around with your chin held high, deflecting anything thrown at you and suffering in silence because you cannot allow anyone to perceive weakness in you. You lash out at others because it is demanded of you to be a hard man, but I know that isn't who you are.

"Look at me," she instructed when he glanced away. As his uncertain gaze eventually locked onto hers, she grabbed hold of one of his hands. "Your mask does not define you. Your father does not define you. Your past does not define you. I've figured that out, and I'm quite certain Hermione's figured that out. Right now, the only one else who matters and needs to figure it out is you."

Severus huffed quietly and shifted his eyes to the floor.

The witch pinched her lips into a thin line as she considered what else to say. "I hope you take this as observation, and not as criticism, because I don't mean it that way. You present an imposing fortress to most people – especially your students. Sometimes just leaving the door open isn't enough to let somebody in. You may have to step out to meet her first."

She gave his hand one final squeeze before releasing it. "I don't need to know anything more about you, Severus, but Hermione does. You've trained her to keep your secrets, so you might as well make use of that."

His eyes tracked her as she stood from the sofa and smoothed a wrinkle out of her robes, but returned to the floor when she turned toward him.

A smirk graced her face. "Before you do anything, though, I would suggest showering. She's had enough to deal with today and doesn't need to put up with that god-awful smell."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Freshly showered, Snape slouched in the armchair in his darkened bedroom, resting his chin in his hand as he gazed upon Granger's sleeping form. Ever since Minerva had flooed back to her office, he had been contemplating their earlier discussion. It had not really occurred to him before that Hermione could be afraid of asking him personal questions – she certainly had not been afraid to hug him without first asking permission.

She had questioned him on several occasions before, and so he had convinced himself that if there was something she wanted to know, she would vocalize it. As he sat here now, however, he was beginning to realize he was more than likely wrong. Aside from the conversation near the end of term in which he had discussed his childhood and friendship with Lily, she seemed to have steered clear of most personal things. Even when under Veritaserum, the majority of her questions had only been quasi-personal at best as they regarded mundane items like his teaching practice or OWL marks – which he realized he had never actually answered – or stemmed from her own experiences as with thestrals or Legilimency.

Furthermore, whenever she had ventured into more private topics – like Lily or his heritage – she had always been profusely apologetic as if she were afraid he may react violently. And considering his knee-jerk reaction to her initial discovery of his affection toward Lily, she probably had every right to be frightened of him.

Sighing sadly, he was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of sheets rustling. As the witch stirred in the bed, Severus straightened in his chair and dropped his hand into his lap. He eyed her carefully as she rubbed her eyes and sleepily pushed herself out of the bed. She appeared to be moving rather stiffly as she stumbled through the dark room to the bathroom.

When she emerged a handful of minutes later, he cleared his throat. "Are you still experiencing symptoms?"

"Oh my gods," she hissed, jumping slightly in surprise and clutching her chest. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"My apologies," he murmured as he magically raised the lights.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair and sank onto the end of the bed. "How long have you been there?"

"Ten minutes, perhaps?" the wizard replied. "I was not certain how much longer I should let you sleep here, so I was debating whether or not to wake you."

"Oh."

Leaning forward, he repeated his first question, causing her to blush and avert her eyes to the floor.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm just… really sore… practically everywhere."

Snape tilted his head in comprehension and rubbed the side of his face. "I can fetch you a muscle ache reliever if you would like."

"Thank you," she whispered.

After he returned from the lavatory and delivered the proffered treatment, a long moment of silence stretched between them. Finally, he asked another question. "Hermione, why did you apologize to me earlier?"

The girl took in a number of short breaths as she continued to stare fixedly at the ground. After several seconds, she shrugged, "Because I didn't mean to do it."

"Well, I knew that," he responded, "but it did not require an apology."

As her lower lip began to tremble, she wrapped her arms about her waist. "You kept warning me against thinking about certain things, but I didn't stop. I should have because… because I did not want to force you into something."

"What?"

"I…" The witch trailed off and anxiously stood from the bed, grabbing her things from the floor. "I should go. I'm not supposed to be here anymore."

Severus stared at her in uncertainty, but panic suddenly kicked in when she reached for the door leading down to his office. "No."

She startled slightly at his tone and looked behind her.

"Not… that way," he answered; his voice softening. "I'm pickling murtlap. They'll know you've been in there."

Hermione frowned and automatically spun on her heel. As she strode quickly through the bedroom door, the Slytherin grimaced and shook his head. Lurching out of his chair, he followed her out into the sitting room. "Hermione."

When she still continued toward the portrait door, he sighed. "I received seven 'O's."

The girl paused with her hand on the door knob and then turned around in confusion. "What?"

"On my OWLs," he clarified. "I only received seven 'O's on them, but you had nine. You out-performed me."

"Seven?" she repeated, still appearing somewhat befuddled.

The wizard nodded. "Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense, Potions, Astronomy, and History of Magic. I only managed an 'E' on the other three."

"Why?"

"Why?" he murmured, raising one eyebrow. "Because I was distracted, I guess."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I meant why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged as he took a seat on the end of the sofa. "You wanted to know how I scored, and I should have told you when you asked me a month ago. I don't know why I didn't except perhaps because I did not wish to sound even more hypocritical than you had already pointed out. I have never exactly been proud of that performance."

"But those are still really good scores," she murmured, setting her bag down in the armchair before perching near him. "Why would you have been ashamed of that?"

He relaxed somewhat when it became apparent that she was not about to leave. "I made stupid mistakes that I never had when practicing for them. The first four exams went smoothly, but after the Defense exam it all went to sludge in a cauldron."

The witch pulled her feet up onto the couch and leaned against the backrest. "Why? What happened?"

"I assume that Potter told you what he witnessed in my Pensieve," he sighed, "despite my demands."

She nodded hesitantly. "Eventually. It really upset him, I know, and sometime after he broke into Umbridge's office to Floo Sirius and Remus, he told me about it."

"And I'm sure those two talked him down," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Passed it off as youthful exuberance, I'm certain."

"A bit, yeah," she exhaled. "But he didn't really buy it. He was really angry with his dad and with Sirius, and I think that's part of the reason he's hurting so much over Sirius's death. As his godfather, he was the closest thing he had to family, and Harry spent the last few months of his life basically condemning him."

"Forgive me if I don't quite believe he was that torn up over it."

Hermione shook her head and straightened in her seat. "No, he was. I mean, don't get me wrong – he still hates your guts – but it definitely shook him up a bit. He even confided in me that he couldn't understand how his mother could have ever married his father, and he actually wondered whether she had been forced into it."

"No," the man stated confidently. "Lily was never forced into anything she didn't want. She disliked Potter for years, yes, but feelings change. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I think that she was happy with him."

She took in a slow breath and picked at her sleeve. "Do you think someday you might be able to tell Harry that? I don't think he quite believes Remus on that account."

Snape gave a long suffering sigh and stared at the fireplace. "Perhaps someday."

"What does this have to do with your OWLs?" she asked quietly.

"The event Potter saw took place then," he explained. "Lily tried to… come to my rescue, you could say, and I was embarrassed and angry about having been bested in front of my Housemates, and I said something I never meant to say."

The girl's eyes were wide as she noticed the pained expression on his face, and she bit her lip when he hesitantly flicked his gaze to her.

"I referred to her as a mudblood and insisted I didn't need her help." He took in a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "I tried to apologize so many times after that afternoon. I even threatened to sleep outside of Gryffindor Tower until she came out to talk to me. But it didn't matter. She was through with me."

"For that?" Hermione scoffed. "Do you know how many horrible things Harry and Ron have said to me over the years? This past year and a half has been especially bad."

The wizard shook his head. "That was merely the last straw. She and I had been quarrelling for some time before that day. She never liked that I… associated with certain individuals in my House, but I was too naïve to realize that she was right. She also wanted me to stop antagonizing the four halfwits – to report the bullying to a professor instead of retaliating – but I thought I could prove myself… in both situations. So I continued to try her patience, and, after five years, it finally snapped.

"I was too stupid to see it coming, and when it did, I was… devastated. I felt physically ill, I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to focus on anything but finding a way to fix it. My OWLs certainly suffered. I mixed up several of the runes, missed a significant factor in Arithmancy, which skewed my final prediction by an entire month, and the fire crab was a flaming disaster. Not only did I end up burning my hand while cleaning it out, it also took a small chunk out of my knuckle when I fed it. I'm actually confused as to why they still scored me so highly. I'm not willing to rule out the possibility that the examiners were under the Malfoy influence."

"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Severus snorted softly under his breath as he looked in her direction. "I do wish you would cease apologizing for things with which you have nothing to do."

"Sorry," she grimaced. A lengthy silence descended upon the room until she spoke again. "Is that why you've forbidden that word in your classroom? I've always wondered. More so when I thought you were a pureblood, of course. "

He nodded slowly in response.

Shivering slightly, she averted her gaze toward the fireplace. "Well, no matter what happened, I am sorry that she wasn't happy with you."

The spy glanced at her in curiosity and then frowned at noticing her expression. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied, blinking quickly in an attempt to dispel the urge to cry. "I just… today was… I just didn't know what to do, and I tried so hard… to make it stop, but I couldn't."

As a large teardrop rolled down her cheek, the man swallowed heavily before moving closer to her.

"I couldn't sleep or focus on anything I was supposed to," she continued. "I don't even know what was discussed in any of today's classes, because I kept seeing things in my head. Well, you know – you saw it in Potions yesterday – and it only got worse after that."

"Worse?"

Hermione nodded. "I kept seeing you… and sometimes you would make me… do things that I don't really want to do, but it made me feel like I wanted to do them. It was like I had no control over my own thoughts or my body. I just wanted it to end."

Snape dipped his head in understanding and hesitantly touched her hand. "I am sorry, Hermione. If I had known it could react in such a manner, I would have told you."

"I hate this," the girl whimpered. "It doesn't matter what I do – if I fight it or accept it, it's never satisfied."

"I know," he sighed sadly as he squeezed her fingers.

"Please tell me what I'm supposed to do," she whispered, raising her eyes to meet his.

The Slytherin took in a deep breath and shook his head. "It pains me to say this, but I am at as much of a loss as you are. I am loathe to suggest we renew the bond with greater frequency than is absolutely necessary as I do not know how the magic will respond. It is difficult enough to accomplish without drawing suspicion, and if it is going to continue placing excess demands on you, we are going to have to be excruciatingly careful in how we proceed henceforth."

Hermione inhaled quickly and drew away from him. "And what if this happens again?"

"Then we deal with it then," he shrugged. "You will need to tell me before it becomes unmanageable, however. And we may need to take measures to prevent it if we can."

"Prevent it?" she asked in concern. "You mean preventing me from… Are you going to make me take that potion again?"

Severus eyed her carefully and then shook his head. "No, but if you were to employ Occlumency to limit the influence that certain emotions have on your thoughts, it may help."

Casting her eyes to the wall, the witch squared her jaw and then pushed off of the couch. "I see."

"Hermione," he stated hesitantly as he watched her don her school robes. "I did not mean to imply that you had to leave."

She shrugged her shoulders, picking up her bag. "I have a Runes assignment that I have to figure out whether or not I can actually do on my own."

"If you need assistance –"

"I'll be fine," she interrupted. "I can ask to borrow Dean's notes if I need."

Confused by her sudden shift in demeanor, the Potions Master rose from the sofa and followed her to the door.

Without looking back at him, she cleared her throat. "Do I have an alibi for this afternoon, or shall I just have to improvise?"

When he explained what Minerva had devised, she gave one stiff nod of her head before exiting his room.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Hermione let out a grunt when she felt somebody slam into the side of her arm.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood."

Readjusting her bag, she glared at the back of Malfoy's head as he disappeared through the door of the Arithmancy classroom.

"You alright, Granger?" Terry Boot asked as they began moving toward the corridor.

She nodded slowly.

"You shouldn't let that twat get to you," he murmured, gesturing in the direction of the blonde Slytherin. "Just because he's bred, doesn't mean he has any sense of breeding."

The witch quirked a small smile. "I won't. Thank you."

"Yeah, no worries," he shrugged before setting off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower. "See you around."

Blowing out a slow breath, she began making her way to her own dormitory, determined to take a short nap before coming back down to supper. She had not managed much sleep the night before, since she had slept so many hours in Snape's quarters. Instead, she had spent nearly an hour in the shower until she had run out of tears, and then when her roommates had fallen asleep, she had given into temptation. With her bed curtains drawn tight enough to keep her wand-light from bothering the other girls, she had cracked open the diary Remus had given her for Christmas and scribbled out everything she was feeling. Then, after the ink had dried, she had torn out all of the used pages and had crept down to the empty common room in order to toss them into the fire.

It seemed stupid to waste so much time writing it down when she knew she would have to destroy it, but somehow it had managed to make her feel a bit better. There were things she could not tell either Severus or Professor McGonagall that just needed to be let out. She had promised never to speak of his love for Lily with anyone else, and she really was not comfortable discussing what she felt to be his blatant dismissal of her feelings of affection towards him.

'Limit the influence of certain emotions.' Hermione rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Oh, but he's not suggesting I take the potion again, so I suppose I should be grateful. So I'm allowed to enjoy sex during it, but to never think about it afterwards. What a compromise, eh? Ridiculous.

Pausing in her thoughts just long enough to state the current password, Hermione stepped through into the common room. 'Limit the influence' like it's something gone wrong. Because it is, isn't it? He loves Lily, and he's tired of pretending with me. Fine. I can stop. I can go back to how it was. I can do awkward again. Why should he be the only one uncomfortable with the situation? That really isn't fair.

The witch plastered a fake smile on her face when Ginny waved to her from the sofa, and then quickly ducked upstairs. Dropping her bag beside her desk, she flopped face first onto her bed. If it helps, huh? Well, fine. There's no illicit love affair and no significant others. It's probably better to face the truth: we're just two people stuck together for the rest of our lives. The sooner you realize it, Granger, the less it will hurt.

Closing her eyes, she rolled over onto her side and then winced when something poked her. Frowning, she slipped her hand into her pocket and then pulled out a folded piece of paper. It definitely had not been in there during Herbology, since she had kept her hands in her pockets when trudging through the snow out to the greenhouse and back. The only plausible explanation for its appearance had to be that Draco had dropped it in there when he bumped into her on the way out of class.

Unfolding it, she noticed immediately that it was a page torn out of their Ancient Runes textbook. Her eyes instinctually scanned over the familiar text as she smoothed some of the creases from the paper.

"…The amethyst stone is exceptionally versatile in the art of rune-making, for it can be used as a stone of power, protection, wisdom, and healing. It can be used as a dream stone, as it is capable of bringing favorable dreams to the bearer of the rune. The protection bestowed upon the owner of the amethyst is not only directed against the witchcraft of an enemy, but also against the self-deception, guilt, and fear that may lurk within one's own being. Its healing strength allows one the power to focus energy, heal negativity, and overcome fears…"

On top of the passage, scrawled in dark ink was a single word: WHY?

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Severus frowned upon noticing that Hermione was ignoring him entirely as she passed him in the corridor leading toward the library. Surreptitiously he glanced about the area, but saw no other individuals within eyesight. Even when she had simply been his student, she had generally acknowledged his presence – whether by giving him a polite smile or shirking in fear – but for the past few days, it had been exceptionally different.

Shifting the stack of books he held in his hands, he glanced over his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Miss Granger."

When she stiffly turned around, he could tell that her pleasant expression was contrived. "Yes, Professor? Is there something you need?"

"Not exactly," he murmured, again verifying that no one was within earshot. "I was merely curious as to whether or not you were able to complete that assignment you mentioned?"

Her eyes widened a fraction at the question, but her voice betrayed no measure of surprise. "Not quite yet, but I am certain I'll find the appropriate text to regurgitate before it's due. Good evening, Professor."

As she continued on her way and disappeared through the library door, the Slytherin stared after her in bewilderment. He was normally quite talented at discerning people's moods or emotions, but for the life of him he could not quite tell if she was simply teasing him or if she were legitimately angry with him. Though he was relatively certain it was the latter, he could not quite determine the reason why.

Perhaps she's simply embarrassed about what she endured this week? Merlin only knows how many times you've reacted horribly out of sheer embarrassment. Severus briefly contemplated mentally eavesdropping on her, but decided against it when his honorable side – which he had noticed was becoming more pronounced lately – pointed out that it was not fair that he could invade her privacy in such a manner while she so adamantly respected his.

Exhaling loudly, he glanced down at his books and remembered his present task. As he returned on his path to the first floor, his thoughts continued to center on the girl. He knew something had changed between them, and it had happened sometime after Lupin's confrontation the week before.

Snape bitterly cursed the werewolf under his breath as he reached his intended destination.

"Oh, good evening, Severus," Minerva smirked as he strode into her office. "Have you come to volunteer for next month's Hogsmeade visit even though I've excused you from it? How magnanimous of you."

Without bothering to respond to her teasing, he crossed the room at a determined pace and dropped the stack of books on the middle of her desk top.

The witch raised one eyebrow and pulled the top volume nearer her. "'Disciplining the Mind'? What is this?"

"Your reading assignment this term," he replied, folding his arms.

"My reading assignment?" she queried, looking at him over the rim of her reading glasses. "With all of that spare time I have lying around, hmm?"

"I suggest you find the time, then."

The Gryffindor fixed him with a trying look as she grabbed the next two books. "'The Art of Occlumency' and – oh, you have to be kidding me – 'The Last Stand: Defending the Forgotten Frontier'?"

He gave a casual shrug as he descended into a chair. "The author's an American. The presentation is dreadful, obviously, but if you can make it past that, the information is exceptionally sound."

"Well at least it promises some measure of entertainment," she snorted, dropping them both and eyeing the remaining books which bore the mark of the Hogwarts Library. "And just why is it you've decided to enroll me in your private book club?"

"You claim to be willing to hold my secrets," he explained, leaning back in his chair. "If I am to continue allowing you to do this, I need to know that you are capable of protecting them."

McGonagall gawked at him in disbelief. "You think you're going to train me to be an Occlumens? Severus, you don't have the time."

"If Albus hasn't seen the need to train his likely successor in mental defense, then someone else must," the wizard sighed. "And seeing as I am the only other capable Legilimens in the Order, the task falls to me."

When she continued staring at him in silence, he sighed and leaned forward in his chair. In a low voice, he murmured, "I cannot, in good conscience, risk her safety on the notion that you will never face interrogation by a Legilimens."

Minerva let out a long sigh in response and rubbed her temples. "Alright, fine. What is it I am to do?"

"Read as much of it as you can," he answered, pushing out of the chair. "You'll have your first chance to practice after next week's staff meeting. And if you find none of these methods suitable, I will send Hermione to explain hers."

The woman nodded slowly as she watched him make his way toward the exit. "Just bear in mind, Severus, that if you act like a berk at any point in this venture, I will not hesitate to hex you."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Have you signed up yet?"

At the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione pulled her eyes away from Slytherin table and cleared her throat. "What?"

"I was asking if you've signed up yet," he repeated. When she stared at him quizzically, he raised one eyebrow. "For apparition lessons. You know, the thing we've all been talking about for the past ten minutes."

"Oh, erm, sorry," she blushed. "I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Are you alright?"

The witch nodded, donning a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. I just feel like I forgot to do something for Arithmancy today, so I was trying to figure out if I actually have or not."

Harry frowned slightly. "I thought you didn't have to do homework anymore."

"Only for Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Charms since they're all necessary for Healer training," she shook her head as she picked up half of her sandwich, "but I still have to finish the coursework for my other classes."

"Oh," he murmured. "So have you?"

"Have I what?" Hermione asked. "Forgotten something?"

The boy narrowed his eyes as he shook his head. "No, have you signed up for lessons?"

"Oh, erm," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "No, I haven't. I'm not sure that I want to."

"What?" he gasped. "What do you mean, 'you're not sure'?"

The witch rolled her eyes slightly at his reaction. "Well, for one thing, it's a bit expensive."

"Twelve galleons isn't really that expensive," he countered. "If you think about it, it's only a galleon a lesson."

"Yes, but that's twelve galleons I don't currently have," she argued quietly. "What little money I did have, I spent at Christmas. I don't have a Gringotts' vault, and I can't exactly access my parents' Muggle accounts, seeing as we've all been declared dead, now can I?"

With a wince, Harry set down his glass. "I'm sorry – I didn't think about that. If it's just the money bothering you, I can pay for –"

"No," she interrupted. "I can't accept something like that from you."

"Just think of it as a loan," he shrugged. "I have no doubts that a future Healer will be able to pay me back the measly sum of twelve galleons."

"Harry, I don't –"

"At least think about it. The deadline isn't for another few days, and it would be useful."

Hermione blew out a deep breath before nodding. "Fine. I will consider it."

Seemingly satisfied, the wizard returned his attention to some of the other sixth years who were more excited by the prospect of learning how to apparate. With a glance in the direction of the Head Table, the girl sighed, knowing full well that Severus had instructed her months ago that she was to feign disinterest when the topic of Ministry-supervised lessons arose. That particular feat was easier said than done for she had an inkling that Harry was going to be rather persistent in the coming days.

After taking another bite of her lunch, she scowled at the prospect of again figuring out how much information to divulge in her explanation. For the time being, however, she pushed that topic to the back of her mind and resettled her attention on a more pressing issue.

There was a note all but burning a hole in her pocket. The longer it remained in her possession, the more anxious she felt about delivering it. It was not exactly top secret missive – even if it fell into the wrong hands, it would be impossible to understand without unwritten context – but seemed dangerous all the same.

Because you need it.

Her reply to Draco's query was rather innocuous, but she could not risk being seen communicating with him. She had first considered getting it to him either before or after their morning Potions lecture, but he had nearly been late for class, and Harry had practically glued himself to her side afterwards.

She knew passing it to him during Herbology would be out of the question, since the blonde was unlikely to be separated from his Slytherin henchmen and hopeful girlfriend for more than a few seconds. Not to mention that Harry and Neville would undoubtedly expect her to participate in their conversation during their walk to class and back.

Arithmancy, it is then. Hermione suddenly understood why the Malfoy heir had chosen that particular course to deliver the initial message. There were relatively few members of either of their Houses present – none, in her case – and Fate had somehow managed to place their desks within striking distance of each other.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Fuck," Severus hissed under his breath, ducking at the last minute as a red bolt of light soared just above his head. His eyes were wide as he glanced over his shoulder to note where the strike absorbed into the wall of the disused Potions classroom. Straightening to his full height, the wizard cleared his throat and faced his current dueling partner. "Well done."

Hermione shook her head and shifted her stance. "I didn't hit you."

"Not quite," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head, "but it was the nearest miss you've ever had."

Snorting softly, the witch folded her arms to her chest and looked toward the wall.

Snape frowned slightly at her subdued reaction and then glanced at the clock. After wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow, he spoke. "Perhaps we could consider that enough dueling practice for this evening."

Without so much as a word, the girl nodded and stepped toward the table upon which she had cast her school robes. Shrugging them on quickly, she stowed her wand and then turned toward the door.

"Hermione," he called, crossing his arms. "If you would wait a moment, I would like to speak with you."

Exhaling loudly, she slowly spun around to face him. "About what?"

"You," he replied simply.

"Me?"

The professor nodded and leaned back against the edge of a table. "About your… behavior recently."

A nervous expression appeared on her face. "My behavior? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, not really," he mumbled uncomfortably. "I was just concerned as to whether or not you were feeling alright."

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "I haven't experienced any odd symptoms if that's what you mean."

Severus shook his head. "I don't mean about the binding magic. I meant with you. Is anything wrong?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" the girl scoffed. "When hasn't something been wrong lately? Practically everything that has happened to us in the past five months has been wrong."

Taking in a deep breath, the wizard scratched the side of his head. "Yes, I suppose that was a poorly considered question. Is there something in particular that is troubling you now more than before?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe."

"Are you angry with me?"

Her eyebrows narrowed at the question. "What reason would I have to be angry at you?"

"I'm certain there are plenty of possibilities," he smirked, resting his palms against the table. "You've seemed rather distant lately as though you're upset about something."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then cleared her throat. "Well, I thought was what I was supposed to do. I don't wish to encourage Remus to become suspicious of our relationship – he already finds it odd that I could consider you a friend – and you were the one who said I should be occluding certain emotions."

"I did not mean to suggest that you had to occlude all of them," the man explained.

"Well, I'm sorry," she sighed, crossing her arms, "but I really don't understand what you want from me. Either you want me to be affectionate or you want me to keep my distance. I can't do both, so please tell me which it is I'm supposed to be doing."

Frowning, Severus shook his head. "I only wanted you to be cautious because I don't know how to proceed. I did not intend to upset you."

When her only response was to look away, he stepped away from the table. "If there is something you would like to discuss, I am more than willing –"

"No," she snapped, shaking her head emphatically. "I will be fine."

"Will be fine?" he repeated, cocking one eyebrow. "So there is something still bothering you."

"I can handle it on my own," the witch argued. "I don't need you to help me with everything."

His eyes widened slightly. "I know that you don't, but I have told you before that I will do whatever I can to make your life less difficult –"

"Stop saying that!" she cried, gesturing with her hands. "Stop treating me like I'm just some helpless victim! I get enough pitying from Remus; I don't need it from you!"

"I'm…" he trailed off, staring at her in surprise as he considered the allegation. "Hermione, I never meant to imply that you –"

"I know," Hermione interrupted, running her hands through her hair as she began to pace. "I know, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that because Professor McGonagall said you wouldn't, but everything's just so jumbled in my head right now. It seems like everyone's either walking on eggshells around me or bending over backwards to do things for me, but I would like to be able to sort out some of my own problems for a change. I can do things on my own."

"I know that you are more than capable –"

"I mean, between you, and Remus, and… and Harry," she continued, ignoring him, "I'm tired. And then there's Ginny wanting counseling on things that I really don't understand myself and shouldn't be giving advice on, and Ron's not speaking to me at the moment, which really I don't even care about right now because I can't even look him in the eye anyway. Frankly, I don't know if I'll ever be able to without obliviating myself first. And now there's Draco to deal with on top of everyone else!"

While he had been following her with his uncertain gaze throughout the entirety of her monologue, Snape froze suddenly at the mention of the young Slytherin. "Hermione, what about Draco? What does he want with you?"

"An explanation apparently," she sighed.

"Regarding?"

The girl came to a stop in the middle of the room. "Why I bought him a Christmas gift."

"You gave him a gift?"

She nodded. "To be painfully honest, I don't even remember thinking about whether or not I should have. I just decided to do it because… well, I thought he could use any help he could get, and it was Christmas. We've never been friends, of course, but I've never wanted to see him suffering like he is."

His shocked expression gradually melted into one of curiosity. "What did you give him?"

"An amethyst," Hermione murmured, sinking onto a chair. "It's nowhere near as nice as the one you gave me, but I thought maybe it would still help. The properties of the stone might really be a load of codswallop, but wearing mine certainly makes me feel better."

Pulling a second chair out in front of her, the spy paused as he remembered the conversation he had held with the Headmaster on Christmas Eve. Perhaps Hermione was one of the significant factors that Dumbledore believed he was overlooking. Blowing out a quick breath, he perched on the seat and leaned forward. "How did he react?"

She laughed morosely as she picked at her robes. "About as well as he did when he thought I was spying on him. Though, he probably still thinks that's true. He clearly doesn't trust me, but he did listen to something of what I said."

"How do you know that?"

The witch took in a loud breath. "Because after he tried to interrogate me at the start of term I told him to consult his Ancient Runes text if he wanted to know what it meant. And well, on Friday, he pushed into me in class like he's always done, only this time he dropped a note in my pocket. He had torn out the corresponding page from his book to again ask me why I had given it to him."

"And have you done anything else?"

"I slipped a reply into his bag during today's Arithmancy lecture," she responded quietly. "Saying the exact same thing that I did then."

"You are certain he will find it?"

Hermione nodded. "I assume as much considering he snapped at me for touching him with my polluted hands. I said that I didn't mean to accidently brush into his bag, then Terry and Michael told him off, and he spent the majority of class glaring at me."

Snape exhaled slowly and rubbed his face with both hands. A moment later, he pushed out of the chair and paced a few steps. "Why haven't you told me any of this before now?"

Guiltily, she looked toward the floor. "I don't know."

"Is this one of those things you wanted to figure out on your own?" he pressed.

"No!" Hermione closed her eyes and grabbed her head. "I don't know why I didn't tell you! I'm sorry! It just didn't seem that important at the time."

"It's alright," the man sighed, coming to a standstill a long moment later. "But from here on out, I wish to remain apprised of any of your dealings with him. Malfoy is an issue we must face together, is that understood?"

She nodded once and cleared her throat. "Yes. If he responds, I will inform you."

"Immediately," he clarified. "It is of vital importance that we discern the nature of his mission."

"I know," she whispered softly before standing from her chair. "Am I allowed to leave now, or is there something else we have to talk about?"

Severus crossed his arms and cleared his throat. "We don't have to talk about anything else at the moment –"

The witch immediately turned to leave.

"—but regarding your earlier concerns," he finished, causing her to pause mid-step, "I do not pity you. You have… been facing exceptionally trying situations this year – and your entire tenure as a student, to be honest – and you are faring far better than I could have expected. I know I have attempted to tell you this in the past, but… it has been brought to my attention that I do not often communicate my impressions well. So if you have not been… fully aware of the sheer remarkability of your progress in and handling of everything that has occurred, I hope you realize it now."

As Hermione slowly turned around, she wrapped her arms about her waist and began blinking very rapidly.

"I know that you are tired," the wizard continued, meeting her eyes with his, "and I know that you are confused. I am, as well. Quite frankly, I would love to be able to tell both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord to fuck the hell off, but I cannot. The Order would fail miserably without intelligence, and Potter would have no chance of success. I am sorry that you have been forced into this role along with me – you did not choose it, and I would never wish it on anyone. I, at least, had some inkling of what would be demanded of me when I accepted the position, and unlike you, I had no promise of a better alternative in life.

"That is why I am willing to do everything I can to help you," he emphasized, "because I know, that for some things especially, I am the only one who can. If there are… certain things you do not feel comfortable in sharing with me, I do not need to know them unless they directly pertain to matters of safety or importance. And anything else you see fit to tell me will never be shared with the Dark Lord, or Dumbledore, or even Minerva. And unless you divulge that you secretly wish to be mentored by Trelawney, I will not think any less of you for anything that may be said. Do you understand?"

A tear escaped her eye as the girl nodded. Sniffling, she took a slow step toward him and then stopped suddenly. When she pinched her eyelids shut and donned a pained expression, he moved to her in concern.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to… I just wanted to hug you, but if that's now against the rules…"

Severus snorted softly and drew her against his body. As she immediately wrapped her arms around his torso, he touched his lips to the top of her head. "It should not be a problem… in moderation. Late morning snogs, however, may prove too precarious while school is in session."

"Okay," the witch mumbled, burying her face into his chest. "I think I can settle for this."