Another accident had happened.

Albus saw fit to inform them of it during breakfast, with a grave face and sorrow dripping from his voice. he was lucky Severus wasn't drinking his tea or he would have spitted it out on him and burned him.

He coughed the words with difficulty, his heart hammering his chest painfully. He felt like he was dieing …. What if he had neglected telling Hermione and she was petrified? What if the person behind it- because Albus said the monster was being controlled by one- targeted her because she was thought to be a muggleborn?

Why in seven circles of hell he had not dedicated his time to the fucking unpetrifying potion?

If he had failed…if he had failed his daughter…

What if the person- Merlin let it be not his Hermione- was not petrified or…

No. he had not even told her he was her father. He had not shown her her rooms in his quarters or that Andy was her Godmother or…

He had not even hugged her, his only child.

He was worse than Tobias, even he had accepted his spawn and hugged the miserable git Severus was.

Why the room kept spinning?

"Albus, stop beating around the bush and come clean. I swear you take delight in our suffering."

There were a few nods heere and there, appreciating his words.

"another attack on a 6th year…"

Severus released a breath he was not aware he was holding, not the least bit ashamed to be relieved like that. Yes he had a duty to students, but his duty to his only child was far greater, and beside, the little brat wasn't dead, only petrified.

He had not listened to a word past '6th year'. what was the point? Hermione was a second year…

When his thoughts abrupted suddenly. Just when she had turned into 'his daughter' and 'Hermione ' instead of 'Granger'? where was this possessiveness coming from?

Oh, he was in deep now, was he not? If he said he was scared shitless and was losing his mind, it was the truth.

How he was to deal with this? Caring was not in his nature, and he would only ruin things he cared about.

He loved potions, and he had brewed poison for the dark lord.

He had loved Mother, and she had died when he was not there to protect her.

He had loved Regulus, and the little shit had deflected without telling him, and died horribly.

And lily…

Hermione…she was his child, his blood. He would do all he could, live for her, die for her, kill for her.

But would she feel a little bit the same?

He had no doubt she would love Andromeda, and by stretch Nymphadora and ted. Miss tonks could act as an older sister, a role single children liked to have in their life.

But him?

The former greasy ugly bad tempered- ok, not former bad tempered, he was still acting like a mad cat- potion professor she only respected because of his knowledge?

She had Grangers, not lacking in love. She had Andy, not lacking in magical guidance, Nymphadora for companionship and TED TONKS to ask about any questions about magical theories.

What use there was left for him?

"and she was found near the library…"

All the debates and argument left his mind. The damn lass was like a leech, glued to the library!

She was in danger…

Not many things surprised Hermione.

Well, not until she found out she was a witch.

Before that, when she did something really weird, she thought that maybe she was a mutant, that she was something like that comic books of hers. She was nothing like her mother, perhaps a little bit, like they were cousins.

But her dad? Not at all. where he was social and warm, Hermione was distant and cold. Their skin tone clashed horribly and his dimple had not passed onto her.

She thought that mutation was the answer.

Turns out she was not a mutant and instead, was a witch. Then she thought that maybe magic made her so different?

It was rolled out when she went ballistic and asked some of other muggleborns about their parents. They were perfectly alike, and that magic made them more alike, not different.

She was told more ties she could count, that no muggleborn ever was this good, even the legendry Lily evans. That there must be a catch.

So she had a theory, about how she got her magic. Maybe she was swapped by another baby when she was born? With a magical born one? And magical community was small, it would be easy to find out. She was sick and tired of hearing that she had stolen her magic from squibs, or it was freaking obvious that teacher's favoured her, because she was 'harry potter's friend'. It was sad that she could not tell Ron, or Harry that. Not being muggleborn themselves, they would not understand her. They did not care that much about their studies, so they thought being called a 'book worm' or ' teacher pet' or 'nerd' was all ok.

Hermione knew better. Those words were the ones that kept others from reaching to her, from forming other friendships than two ignorant boys.

Maybe she was selfish for wanting to have more than 2 friends in all her 12 years?

One time, that first week of first year, some upper year had called her 'mini Snape'. At first, the green girl she was, thought it was a compliment, that she was smart and intelligent. Because all professors were bound to be super sharp, ha? She soon found out it was not. Yes, snape was plenty smart, but plenty 'unpleasant' too. With those teeth and his hair…

She really was not that shallow of a girl but he was one of a kind.

Was it the teeth? Her incesseant questions? Her un-managable bush of a hair?

(first years had a theory, that his hair was curly, and he hated it so much he put oil on it to sleek it back, or whatever)

Her parents were not much of a help. She had written them, and they told her that it was not important and she should focus on her studies.

How in hell she could focus? With being called a thief, a pet , inelegent.

Snape-alike.

It was not that one time, nah, he had been called that another two times in diagon alley, and one time she heard professor flitwick tell others she reminded him of a young Snape.

It stung. It hurt. She would prove them wrong, she would get the highest marks ever in Owls, so not one could say she was a teacher pet . she would outdo all of them in magical works to tell them she had not stolen magic. no one could argue then, right? She could not go and find where her magic came from, and she was not definitly related to snape.

She prefered to be the know-it-all Granger, than to be related to – appearance aside, the man was a tyrant- Professor Snape. And was he not, like a million years old? He was probably as old as Mcgonagal. All wrinkly and covered in black. He must be from decades ago if he wore that much conservative balck clothes, it was on for a time in 50s in magical britain. Hermione figured he had picked that style in his youth and stuck to it with a passion.

Snape was the encyclopedia of the word 'stupid'. He had called them that in so many ways that made Hermione raise an eyebrow.

Dense, thick, daft, dullard, imbecile, nitwit, foolish, absurd, asinine, crackpot, crazy, idiotic, silly, witless, crackers, demented, deranged, insane, nuts, unhinged,retarded, backward, feebleminded, halfwitted, moronic, simpleminded, slow, slow-witted, dummy, nincompoop, oaf, simpleton, cretin, dolt, fatuous, crass, frivolous, ludicrous, farcical, …

And this was him on a good week. Just a week! He sometimes swore in latin, or french. One would never know in how many ways they can be called 'stupid'.

And SHE WAS NOT LIKE HIM!

So that summer, she submerged herself in her books, not giving a shit why she was getting weird vibes from her parents. Why her dad forgot his shirts in his workplace, why her mother stayed some nights away or how their work address was now different. They were probably in some grown up's spat or having a mid-life crises.

Then came this year. easier than the last one in some aspects. She knew the subjects, she knew she was good in them and knew the teachers. She knew what to expect and Of course it helped she had a pair of friends.

And boom. THERE WAS PROFESOR LOCKHART!

Gildroy Lockhart in the flesh and blood!

She should have know better. There was always something to ruin a perfect situation, in this case the slytherin monster. She had checked every book on creatures, but there were so many things, so many creatures.

She wished they had profesor kettleborn, but the guy had gone before they even began Hogwarts. They said he was a genius in all animal matters. Not that she didn't like Hagrid, but she understood he was a bit of an idiot when it came to animals, thinking they were as harmless as they were for a half giant as to a bunch of kids.

Profesor Snape was grumpier than ever, an all of a sudden he turned creepy. She could not put her finger on the exact moment it happened, but it was there, even Harry and Ron- the oblivious sods- got it.

"maybe it's the potion fums, you know? My brothers say he is working NEWTs levels to an early death, and after that he is working on unpetrifying solution. That much work with nasty ingredients would do even Dumbledore and he is already a numpty"

She was about to chide Ron for calling profesor Dumbledore numpty, but the man swished in a purple robe with bright red lions and eye-blinding yellow badgers in honor of the Quiddich match between them. That shut her for good.

Ron was sometimes right.

Then it got worse. He didn't even call her name, or talk to Harry or Ron at all. he didn't call Harry stupid in three sessions.

"maybe he is not himself? Like last year when …when the defence…"

Harry had still problems talking about what happened down there last year. stuttering, his eyes would lose their color a bit. Hermione had read that tramua like that would take time.

Ronald sighed "maybe the guy is sick? Wasn't the flu epidemic?"

"20 points from Griffindore!"

Hermione sighed in relief, he still was in there, he had taken points like his normal snapy snapy self.

She wished it remained at stares and not blinking when he looked their way, but she was never lucky like that. After this morning, the last attack unnerved them all, after a whole month of nothing of that sorts, it rattled them to the core.

Snape seemed the most shaken of them all, maybe he dreded brewing that much of a bulk, the potion was ridiculously hard to get right and easy to mess it up. Then she was taken out of her thoughts unexpectedly by a baritone voice:

"Miss Granger, I would like to you to come to my office at 5 pm sharp this Friday."

She would have let out an unholy sheriek if she was a lesser being, how the man walked extremly silently, was he a kind of ninja?

Beside her, Ron was choking on a piece of egg, it was unclear whether it was because he was spooked , or he had stuffed his mouth too much like usual.

"I would suggest you offer a glass of water to your friend Mister Potter, unless you are as happy as I to rid the world of a weasley, it would be a first for us to agree on a matter, wouldn't it?"

How in all world the man could spat an inocent word like 'friend' , like it was a curse? Did he have a gift for that too?

Then fear gripped her heart, had she messed up her homework? It was not usual for him to approach a student like that, God, had she fuged it up that bad?

Rolling his eyes he said flatly" no Miss Granger, you have not irritated me more than that is usual, nor your work is lacking its typical length of a mile. There is another matter I would like to discuss"

Before she could say a word, the man's belowing robes was hitting harry in the face, leaving Hermione to wonder how he could make his robes to move like that, or how he could glance your way and know what was exactly on your head, had he a superpower or what?