The cold floor of the dungeon-like chamber didn't bother her. The fact her stomach was all but empty didn't bother her, and the fact that she didn't know why she had accepted him as her father so soon did not bother her too.

Was it the fact he had put himself between her and the Snake? That he had chosen her, Hermione , plain Hermione ,and not the boy-who-lived, or the girl from his own house to save first?

And she didn't feel like betraying her parents, in her heart, it was like she had added the space for him to be there too. she wasn't even interested in knowing how he came to be his father..

Her parents loved her, she knew it by heart. It was just they couldn't always understand her, and sometimes, when they didn't know she was magical, when they were worried and frustrated because she didn't belong with her peers, they got anxious. So they tried to hide her, scold her for being not normal.

But she didn't need to be like that with him. He was a perfectionist with a mean streak, but he was all bark and no bite. Yes he said awful things, but once you ignored all those snark and bitterness, he actually gave sound recommendations.

And it just clicked, between him and her. She felt close, so close to him. His magic sang to her and she felt it moving around her to protect her.

And what she had done?

What they had done?

He was crushed by the gigantic beast's body, injured and drenched in its poisonous blood. They always said people looked peacful in sleep, and he didn't.

He looked pained. He looked young and hurt and he looked like he was waiting…

Waiting… maybe for hearing he was loved too?

Hermione didn't think many people- if any- told him they loved him. She had a very limited knowledge of psychology, but being a perfectionist who didn't care about his image, like his hair didn't shout out he had been acquinted with the word.

And god..how stupid she was?

She had not even told him she loved him. It was amazing, and shoking she got to this point in such a short time, to know she loved him. Wanted him in her life.

But she never got what she wanted, did she? She didn't have a friend as a kid, she didn't have a magical parent to guide her in her first year, and now…

She wept silently, his head on her lap. Her hands started to remove dirt and blood from his face.

Why they all thought his face was ugly? Why they all had called him bat, git and those other awful names? His face wasn't at all ugly. His nose, crooked and big, didn't look weird at all. his hair mutted with blood, was just hair. Not dirtier than themselves now. Not deserving of the word greasy or dirty.

"I love you"

His voice repeated itself in her head. Echoed and duplicated.

"oh you stupidly brave wonderful idiot…my dad… oh daddy" she murmured in his ear.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

An unwanted hand now that everything had ended.

Now she wasn't scared and alone, and semi-safe from the heir and his snake.

"Hermione.."

And she shrugged it forcfully. She didn't need Harry telling her the obvious, that he was not coming back. Or to ask her stupid shitty questions about how and why Snape was her father.

"Let her be Potter" she heard the slytherin girl telling him. And she felt the start of a headache.

They would fight, those fuckheaded simpletons. Her father was dead, they were all exhausted and cursed and hungry, with no idea of how to get out.

And they would waste their breath to fight.

There was a sniffing sound, that would be Ginerva's. wonderful. The bitch was added to the bunch now.

How she wanted to hit her. The stupid bitch who got them in this situation.

"I..I didn't.. I.."

"save it Weasley. I don't want to hear your voice, in fact none of us are in the mood to deal with your spoilt arse now"

She knew it that Harry would ignore all, and throw himself in to defend her, the main criminal.

Was it that he had a crush on her? Was it the fact she was a weasley?

Whatever.

And he did.

The voices got louder, and she couldn't care less. She put her head on his chest, her father's unmoving chest and her tears got mixet up with his blood.

"now listen you snake face.."

And that was it.

Hermione wasn't the one to go numb in face of loss and pain, nor one to ignore, or get stressed or one to get violent. She always remained rational.

Well not now.

How dare he?

How dare he disrespect this man, who had saved their lives? This man who was her father, his supposedly best friend?

"shut it Harry. And Ginny I don't want to hear from you, or see you, or be near you right now. Stay the fuck where you are, and shut it, both of you."

She heard Greengrass hissing " I would do so if I were you. If she is the professor's daughter, the life debts you owe him is transferred to her. Anger her more and you find yourselves stripped of your magic, or worse, dead"

She didn't care.

Just…

Why? Why she couldn't have a magical parent like all other kids? She told herself being a muggleborn was fine..

But it wasn't . she encountered things daily, that a child raised in magical world thought nothing of it, but it bewildered her. She had only found a protector, a guide, a mentor.

A magical dad. One who had her back first. One who …

She strated crying again.

"why.. why I had to find out like this? I didn't say it back. He is gone, My ..my fa..father is gone and I didn't even told him I love him"

Her head felt sort of light, she was feeling week and sleepy. Dazed. The combiantion of being magically exhausted, emotionally stressed and having an almost alltime low level of energy was her undoing.

She was not awake, yet not asleep. She heard random beats of conversation.

"professor!"

"now? Now you come here? How convinient of you to come here now that all the danger has passed. "

"I wont let you steal his victory! You got no shame! Wanna steal it for your boywonder?"

"I WIL NOT SWEAR A VOW!"

And suddenly she felt a weak humm. An tiny bit of magic trying to get her attention.

A small spark of familiariarty.

And she felt strong all of a sudden.

"ALL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP. DON'T MOVE, DON'T TALK DON'T EVEN BREATHE FOR A FUCKING MOMENT!"

"miss Granger your language.."

"FUCK MY LANGUAGE! SHUT IT"

And for once, all those idiots did so.

The spark was half fading. It flickered again.

"he lives."

"my dad is alive."

She whispered in utter disbelief. Her mind in total disarray.

"HELP! HELP he is alive! For God's sack he is still alive!"

Maybe it was tiredness, maybe the emotional roller coaster of thinking him dead, and finding him to be alive, if barely.

She tried to stand up, and failed miserably. Her knees gave out and she saw herself rushing towards the floor.