Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. No money, fame, glory etc are made from this story whatsoever. It is nothing more than a tribute and expression of my admiration of the world that is Harry Potter and the characters within, especially a certain snarky Potions Master..

Rated PG-13: rated for descriptions of violence and sexual situations.

Summary: The story picks up directly after Dumbledore’s funeral and explores several book seven theories. It's a HG/SS pairing and covers action, adventure, humor, romance, some angst, suspense and even cliff-hangers without going the sappy route. Also contains some HP/GW and NT/RL. So sit back, take a read and drop me a review.

Thanks: I must give thanks to my beloved beta, Tahra. May the weather be kind to her so she can be out of her basement enough to beta more chapters for me. Ok, that's selfish... Long enough to eat, drink AND beta for me ... Better.

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I shall leave you with Severus' description of seduction:

"In a world where sensual contact is so freely given, there are still those who believe that it is far more desirable to only offer it up as the reward of a dance of wills, of tearing down the thin wall of resistance, of submitting to the elements of what makes us all human. For that is the beauty of seduction, to make the ordinary into something so powerful that you would cry out for it with every ounce of your being. For the partner to grant you that wish only after it has become something of such value you would practically give your life to experience it just once."

"Some say seduction is about drawing someone reluctantly into the act. I tend to disagree. I am of the opinion that it is the true art of persuasion. That in the end, the victim, if you will, comes willingly, almost begging to be taken."

We must, however, start at the beginning...

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1. The Sun Dies Too




Hermione Granger sat by the lake, staring at nothing in particular. She’d been there for hours, lost in her thoughts, occasionally coming back to the present long enough to only register the time by the position of the setting sun.

She had quietly slipped away from everyone who was still so stunned by recent events they had trouble completing whole sentences without breaking down. She came here as one of the only places she could be alone. Mourning, to some, was a social affair filled with time spent with loved ones left behind to puzzle out the why or how. For others, it’s a time to exclude the world, turn down the lights, and think.

Hermione was in that latter crowd.

Life had just shifted, as if an earthquake had lifted her world and slammed it back down without any semblance of grace. At a time in life when she should be worrying about grades or her future, she was fearing for one of her closest friend’s safety, mourning the death of a man she admired, and questioning her judgment of another she admired despite popular opinion.

It all just didn't make sense. Questions crowded her thoughts, pushing for priority in her mind. The how, and more importantly, the why of what had happened devastated her. So much more was there, the reasoning so far, however, had escaped her. The logical part of her railed against it all and rejected reality. Like an autopsy of a body, she needed to deconstruct what had happened and understand. With a sigh, she tucked her head down, resting her forehead on her knees drawn up against her body.

Tilting her head, she could observe the mist gently rise over the lake's quiet surface. School owls silently entered and left the castle, swooping on the evening breeze at lazy angles. She thought briefly how ironic it was that nature and life continue in the face of something so obscene. Nature remained silent, unmoving, offering no judgment. It seemed so wrong that there was no noticeable change in the world, no outcry against tragedy. For a soul so significant to leave the world, and another day to simply come and go as usual seemed almost cruel.

She had stopped crying hours ago. Emotions came hard at times as she grew older. Intelligence was a curse in disguise, she thought, as it influenced a person to analyze before feeling, guarding the emotions before the situation simply demanded a reaction.

Often, she thought that the walls she put up were unhealthy, especially when she thought of one Severus Snape.

How many emotional barriers had he put up over the years? She had been picked on in school for being studious and different, but nothing compared to the pain and exclusion he had endured. She didn’t want to be like him, feelings hidden behind so many layers he’d probably forgotten how to show anything at all.

And now?... well, she just hoped there was a reason for all of this.

Looking back at the castle, she could see the lights in the Great Hall. Most likely, people were there speaking about their times with the late Headmaster. She knew she should rejoin them, but for now could only look out over the peaceful lake. She watched the passage of time as the setting sun fell slowly behind the trees, spreading its orange glow between the branches. The colors of red and orange soon gave way to blue and gray as the temperature dropped, sending a chill through her.

Slowly, with the measured movements of reluctance, she got to her feet. With a glance at the Astronomy tower, she took a deep breath and made her way back to the castle.

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Members of the Order gathered in the Headmaster’s office, some in quiet conversation and others in various states of mourning. The house-elves had brought tea and sandwiches, crying as they set down the trays.

Hermione sat beside the window, watching as Harry and now Headmistress McGonagall stood together while reviewing Dumbledore’s Pensieve, hoping to find something to explain this travesty. She glanced at the empty perch where Fawkes would normally be resting and felt a renewed sadness at the sudden change.

Needing to feel helpful in some way, she asked upon their return after watching another memory, “May I help?”

Looking worn and slightly removed, McGonagall replied, “Of course.” Turning to Harry, she said, “Harry, would you like to sit this one out and have some tea? You haven’t stopped at all today.”

“Yes, I guess so.” His eyes rose to meet Hermione’s as she grasped his hand for a moment. They exchanged a significant glance. Harry gathered himself some tea, but passed on the sandwiches. Eating just hadn’t been on his list lately.

“Alright, are you ready, Hermione?” McGonagall asked while straightening her hat and taking a deep, steadying breath.

“Yes,” Hermione replied, feeling a twinge of grief at the prospect of viewing Dumbledore’s memories when he should be sharing his stories himself.

Lowering their faces to the pool, McGonagall chose a more recent memory from that year hoping to find some clues.

“Albus, please guide us," she whispered.

With a lurch, the two witches found themselves in the forest. They watched as two robed figures moved deeper in the thick, untouched wilderness. Mist illuminated by the moonlight flowed through the trees, revealing the movement of the slight breeze. As the figures moved, they disturbed the flow, diverting it to move around them in tendrils.

"Headmaster, with all due respect, I’ve tried to find out what he’s up to but he will not reveal his plans.”

“Severus, you must continue your work. You know how important this is."

“What if I don’t want this responsibility any longer? I can’t take much more.”

Desperation showed in his voice and a wave of fear passed through Hermione. Professor Snape, uncertain? This is very serious.

Dumbledore stopped and turned to face Severus. He paused for a moment, then seemed to make a decision.

“Severus, you must. There is no other way. You cannot lose your position as spy for the Order,” Dumbledore said in an authoritative tone.

“Release me from this. I cannot-” Severus’ voice failed slightly, allowing gravity to come to the surface. Hermione gasped and held McGonagall’s hand tightly. So much pain, guilt and failure behind his words...

“Severus, please listen-”

“No,” Severus interrupted, almost moaning. “I cannot do what you are asking of me. I refuse.”

At this, the two witches watched quietly, hanging on the pause in the air.

Hermione could see Severus hanging his head, hands balled into fists. He was slowly shaking his head from side to side. It seemed to her that the only thing holding him there was a sense of responsibility to the old wizard, some undeniable bond.

Dumbledore gazed at the forest floor as if contemplating the leaves, then raised his eyes to meet Severus’. His tone when he finally spoke was now stern. If there was enough light, Hermione supposed the twinkle had left his eyes.

“Severus, you remember the night you came to me years ago, do you not?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“And do you remember what passed between us?”

“Yes.”

Hermione noticed how much pain was in Severus' voice. His tone had quieted from fierce defiance to knowing he was losing a battle in slow motion. She was reminded of a small child, being scolded in the gentlest of ways, reminded of their duty and where they failed. She could tell he knew exactly where this conversation was going, and hated every step of the way.

“Severus, look at me. That night I took you in. I stood for you and saved your sanity and possibly your very life from a certain sentence in Azkaban, did I not?” Dumbledore said.

Severus kept his gaze steady as he responded, “Yes, sir.”

“I have watched you grow up since you were eleven. Your soul and heart were misguided for a time, but is still true and good. I trust you with my life and need you now to-”

Suddenly, Severus interrupted, raging and pacing back and forth, “I am exhausted and slipping! Making that vow to Narcissa was a devastating error and will cost us all!”

A strange wind rose around Severus in a twisting pattern, accelerating in time with his ragged breathing. Strands of light passing around his hands seemed to catch Dumbledore’s attention for a brief moment. Hermione and McGonagall glanced at each other, both silently acknowledging what they both noticed.

“I am of no use if I am making mistakes! You don't understand!” he roared. Severus took on the look of someone about to make a grand statement and damn the consequences.

“I am tired of being pulled between a psychopath and playing a pawn in your grand plan for Potter! You are just as power hungry as the Dark Lord, using people to serve your greater purpose!” Severus yelled accusingly.

Throughout Severus’ rage, Dumbledore gazed quietly at the younger wizard, unflinching at the accusations he threw at him.

Hermione could see his chest rise and fall as Severus took a sideways glance at the great wizard. He seemed to clearly understand his outburst was severe and awaited the reaction. He looked resolute, straightening himself and looking Dumbledore square in the eyes.

“I do understand your position, Severus, however, you must understand mine. This is larger than both of us,” Dumbledore said in a startlingly calm tone.

“You do not understand anything about me,” Severus said viciously. With so much venom in his words, there was no need to raise his voice.

Hermione shifted her feet as she watched her normally reserved Potions master losing control. She realized now what Dumbledore was asking him to do and couldn’t imagine the inner turmoil he felt.

Raising himself up straighter than usual, Dumbledore had an air as if he’d heard enough.

“That will do, Severus,” he stated quietly.

Severus was poised as if awaiting an impending attack, his head bowed slightly. He was still breathing hard with rage and rooted to the spot. Even in the darkness of the forest, Hermione could see the anger and pain evident in his eyes.

Dumbledore looked at the younger wizard. “Severus,” he began in a stern tone, “I am no longer requesting this. It is no longer up for discussion.”

Hermione could see something change in both wizard’s faces. Dumbledore’s took on a look of resolution, while Severus’ eyes widened slightly with the dawning realization of where this was leading.

“Severus Snape, I am calling on your wizard’s life debt to me.”

Looking shocked in a way Hermione never thought she’d see, Severus stood motionless for what seemed forever.

He seemed stunned.

When he went to speak at first, his voice failed, catching as if he had no breath to start. Hermione was stunned to see for the first time that her Professor was at a loss for words.

Trying a second time after a pause, she heard him say quietly as he lowered himself to one knee in front of Dumbledore.

“My life is yours. I will do whatever you ask of me.”

Hermione and Minerva expected the memory to end at that point, however the forest only faded away. They found themselves in the castle with a battle raging all around them. Death Eaters were dueling with students, hexes and curses flying everywhere. Hermione was startled to see Severus race by and then understood.

“Professor, somehow we have this memory but how is it continuing?” Hermione asked, instinctively ducking as a spell flew past her.

“Hush and follow!” McGonagall called to her as she followed Snape.

Severus bolted up the stairs, shoving a dueling Death Eater and student out of the way. Running headlong up the tower stairs, he used the stone wall to steady himself on the way up. He burst through the door with his wand stretched out before him.

Severus swept his eyes over the scene before him and then looked as though this was his worst nightmare come to life. Dumbledore surrounded by Death Eaters, slipping down the wall and looking near death, but at the same time, a look of polite peace on his face.

Draco turned to look at Snape with his wand still raised, shaking badly, and pointed off to the side. Total and complete failure was written in his eyes. No one needed to probe his mind to know the height of both panic and desperation he had reached.

Shocked, Severus' thoughts could be heard, “The boy will not... he can’t… I should have known...”

“Severus…”

Hermione and McGonagall exchanged a surprised expression to find they were hearing the exchange of thoughts as they passed between Snape and Dumbledore.

“Remember your promise, Severus. You must do this. You cannot break the vow. You have a debt to me. Save Draco.”

“No… I can’t. I can take them. Please, I can’t do this anymore.”

“How are we hearing Snape’s thoughts? This is clearly different.” Hermione could tell this was not a usual Pensieve memory. This was a memory of thoughts and feelings between Snape and Dumbledore.
The silent conversation of thoughts continued with rising desperation while Draco and the Death Eaters looked between Dumbledore and Severus.

Aloud, Dumbledore said, “Severus…please.”

Again, the thought rushed to his mind, "Severus, you must.”

“No… I…”

Hermione and McGonagall both flinched along with Severus when they heard the voice of Dumbledore suddenly bellow in his mind, “SEVERUS, DO IT NOW! DO IT, YOU COWARD!”

Hermione gasped loudly, throwing her hands to her face and looking at McGonagall with widened eyes.

“No, Albus," McGonagall whispered.

Immediately, the expression on Severus’ face hardened as he raged in his mind,“DON’T . CALL . ME . COWARD!”

Aloud, he roared, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

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Hermione was again tucked in the window seat in the Headmaster’s office, a thousand questions flying around her as McGonagall recounted the documentation of what they had just seen.

Sighing and looking quite tired, Minerva took her seat and looked around at the crowd in her office. “It is what we saw," she said, "It is there if you want to see for yourself. Severus did what both his Unbreakable Vow and his life debt to Albus required of him.”

Tonks stepped forward. “I have heard of some recording of events occurring when a life debt is both incurred and repaid, to serve as proof. Dumbledore must have known this.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Harry stated, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “Snape is still nothing but a traitor.”

“Harry, please, I saw the look on his face when Dumbledore was asking him to do this. He was only doing as he was told and Dumbledore in the end had to provoke him,” Hermione argued. She was painfully aware of the looks on the other Order members’ faces as they watched the exchange. She was still defending someone they still didn’t trust, even with the information they found.

“I don’t care what anyone says. If I ever see that rotten b*stard I’ll kill him!” Harry spat and stormed from the room.

Hermione drew back to her seat along the window, saddened to see her friend in such turmoil.

“Don’t worry, Hermione, he’s very emotional right now,” McGonagall said sadly as she patted Hermione’s hand. Hermione stared out the window, her forehead pressed on the cold glass and the damp draft on her face.

A thousand thoughts passed through her mind. She replayed the memories over and over and closed her eyes in an attempt to process everything. When she opened her eyes again, a chill passed through her. Confusion passed over her face as she thought she saw a movement out in the darkness. As she sat up straighter to get a better look, her heart froze at what she saw.

Severus Snape was staggering across the lawn.

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Please leave your replies in the feedback thread.

Woot, two down. Many more to come! Cool, okay...

I must also thank Tahra, who is my Beta. This story was going to be written pretty much in the "Look, Ma! No Beta" mode, so she is going to be a blessing during this editing effort. May she not realize what she's gotten herself into too soon. (just kidding )

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2. Strange Homecoming





Severus Snape staggered towards the light of the only place he knew as home. Staggering was a vast improvement, he thought with revulsion, over the crawling he was doing only hours earlier. He had been severely injured by Buckbeak, and his attempts at finding enough healing plants in the forest had only managed to slow his death from the magical creature's attack.

“I’ve become nothing more than a pawn in a dying old man’s game, left to linger between a madman and the Order.”

He had sent Draco on to return to the Dark Lord, telling him that he needed to remain behind to spy on the Order. Keeping track of all of his lies was becoming difficult these days, and the only man who knew him completely was now dead at his hands. With this on his mind, he sent Draco off to an almost certain death. The goal had been reached but it was Draco’s failure. In the mind of a maniac that was an inexcusable offense, pure and simple, and the price would be high.

The bleeding was worsening, and his only hope was to reach his private lab to obtain proper healing potions. Each step caused the wounds on his back and legs to open, allowing more blood to flow at an alarming rate. His torn left thigh refused to flex past a certain point, giving him a lurching motion at best. Severus' robes hung in tatters where the Hippogriff had torn into him relentlessly, even so much as to lift him to the treetops before dropping him and going for Draco in the end. There was a little-known entrance near the greenhouses he used when summoned. Not far for someone in good health, however he knew he was far from that state, and fading. Staggering had degraded to listing to one side. He fell to his knees as the ground rushed up suddenly.

“How appropriate.”

His pride wounded almost as much as his physical form, he submitted to holding himself on his hands and knees, breathing forcibly. Even when near death he was self-conscious, and would rather fight with every fiber of his being to avoid being found in such a state. His black curtain of hair hung in strings around his face, swaying with each failing breath. A dim part of him remembered how the beast grazed his head lightly with its beak, apparently razor sharp enough to slice him open. He watched with disconnected fascination as thin strips of his black hair produced perfect drops of dark red, balancing for a brief moment before falling to the lush grass below.

“After deceiving a diabolical psychopath too many times to count, to fall to a Hippogriff must be life’s pure irony at its best,” he thought, gritting his teeth and refusing to lie down. He started to shake from blood loss, and his eyesight began to lose focus. The ground was becoming more and more welcoming, extending itself to offer rest, possibly forever.

His thoughts drifted to when he’d be found, and by whom. Would anyone care? He had no family, and who at Hogwarts would care for a murderer?

"Only Miss Granger served as a slight glimmer in this miserable existence," he thought. "She was the only student out of all those dunderheads who truly found joy in the art of Potions, and learning in general."

A wave of coldness passed over him, interrupting his thoughts and replacing them with the disturbing realization that he was rocking involuntarily. His heart was beating, it seemed, three times as hard with no effect, and was missing randomly. Breathing had become a conscious effort, and a rising fear that couldn’t be ignored whispered to him softly, telling him that darkness would soon be here.

“This is it. No glorious fall in battle for you. You’re going to die here on the Hogwarts grounds of all places. Did you really believe that returning to Dumbledore would save you from what you deserve?”

The spy in him felt someone’s eyes and he panicked, forcing himself to his feet by sheer adrenaline and searching for his wand. As he looked up at Dumbledore’s office window, the sky started sliding sideways as if on a ship. By the light from the window, he could make out a face staring down at him with an alarmed expression. Before he could consider who it was, the sky suddenly spun left, then upwards, landing him back on his hands and knees. When his arms gave out and his shoulder hit the ground, the cool grass felt almost refreshing on his face.

As his eyes slid shut, more faces came into the light and he heard someone scream his name.

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"How is he, Poppy?" Minerva asked.

The two witches stood in sight of where Severus Snape lay. The pale moonlight shining on him from the adjacent window did nothing to brighten his already pale complexion, now worsened by so much blood loss. Hermione Granger had stationed herself next to his bed, looking down at him as if she was willing him to breathe.

“Not well, I’m afraid.” Taking a deep breath, Poppy continued, “You know that I’ve seen Severus several times after returning from being summoned, but nothing like this. He’s far worse and a Hippogriff’s bite has some properties that prevent quick healing. He has a large cut to his head, four broken ribs, his left thigh has a foot-long slash nearly to the bone and his back has too many cuts to count.”

“Yes, I have heard from Hagrid about that.” Looking closely at the mediwitch, Minerva whispered, “Will he survive this time, Poppy? You can be honest with me.”

“I don’t know. It all depends on his will to live, nothing more.” Tearing up, Poppy looked over at Severus as she said, “I feel torn about all of this. I can’t get out of my mind what’s happened. What kind of life does Severus have to look forward to?”

With a somber smile, Poppy said, “No matter what I say, he'll try to walk out of here as soon as he wakes up, he's so dead set against being doctored. He’s always fighting and won‘t listen to me.”

Smiling slightly, Minerva placed a hand on Poppy’s shoulder and said with hope, “I think I have a remedy for that. Please take a break.”

“Thanks, Minerva. I shall.”

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Hermione had watched Severus’ chest rise and fall with a steady rhythm for the past hour. As she stood watch, the moon rose, bathing the room with more light than even the torches could provide. She was the first to reach him as he lay on the lawn, his eyes half-open, seemingly staring directly into her soul. She had never seen him as anything less than imposing, so the sight of him like that shook her deeply.

“No, Severus, listen to me. We need you to stay,” she pleaded as the others hurried across the lawn. Somehow, using anything other than his given name didn’t seem right. He looked at her briefly, but made no move to correct her. In a way, his failure to do even that frightened her more than the worst of his injuries.

She had moved his blood soaked hair out of his face and pressed it against his head, trying to console him in some way. She wasn’t sure he heard her until he looked up and nodded slightly before losing consciousness again. He was so wounded that they levitated him together to the hospital wing, stunned at the amount of blood. Madam Pomfrey was extremely pale upon seeing him and quickly worked to stop the bleeding. Three hours later, he lay unmoving. Madam Pomfrey said he was stable and there was nothing more to be done except wait.

“He’ll need to stay in bed and rest for quite a while,” she said, “something he’s not talented at in the least bit. I can hurry the healing along a little, but otherwise he‘ll need to heal almost like a Muggle.”

Minerva gazed at Hermione, who was staring intensely at Severus, and considered. Hermione may still be a student, but would soon be eighteen. Even sooner due to her use of the Time-Turner. Contrary to how sickly Severus looked even in good health, he was only thirty-seven, just a child in wizard’s years.

“So much so early in life, Severus,” she thought to herself. “You deserve more than all of this.” Looking over at the pair, she smiled slightly.

Looking out the window at the Astronomy Tower, she whispered to herself, “Albus, I do believe I’ve inherited your twinkle.”

With that, she moved over to Severus’ bed, noting how Hermione stiffened slightly, as if expecting to be sent away. The clank of Minevra’s walking stick seemed to bring Hermione back from her trance. “I won’t leave him,” she said without looking up from her vigil. “He deserves to have someone here when he wakes up.”

“I have no intention of forcing you to leave, Hermione,” Minerva said quietly. “In fact, I’d like to ask you a favor if I may.”

Sitting by the bed, she took Hermione’s hand in hers. Looking down, she contemplated the young witch’s hand in hers and the contrast of ages. Most of the staff and Order did not know that Albus was much more than a Headmaster to Minerva. They had been very close. Feeling torn about Albus’ death with his murderer beside her, no matter what the circumstances, was more than she could easily bear. Her sorrow was deeper than she had ever felt, yet in her heart she knew he was slipping away since the time his hand was injured. He wouldn’t share the story even with her, and now she’d never know.

Considering Severus, she felt a different kind of pain. For someone so young, he looked so worn. Something in her felt a need to rectify that injustice. When she looked up she realized Hermione was watching her, expecting her to speak.

“Hermione, Severus is a difficult man, to put it nicely. Until now I’m afraid you’ve only known him the way he wants to be seen, strong, unaffected and above all, unbreakable. I knew Severus as a child here at Hogwarts and he was very much like you.”

At Hermione’s slightly surprised expression, Minerva said with a knowing smile, “Ah yes, he loved, and still loves knowledge. He spent endless hours in the library, tucking himself in the very corners you inhabit so much.”

Minerva stood and gazed out the window with one hand embraced around her walking stick. “Unfortunately, children are cruel and Severus suffered greatly, teased for being studious and different. One great defense is to instill fear, so Severus moved towards the Dark Arts. He has a great mind, Hermione, just like you. Even at this young age, he is also a very powerful wizard.”

Straightening herself, Minerva continued, “That being said, he is stubborn, nasty, unforgiving and calloused. He values his pride above all else, and will most likely refuse to be taken care of properly. Hermione, Severus has proven that he will not listen to Madam Pomfrey in the least sense. Whether certain members of the Order are ready to admit it, this man has done quite a lot for the war. I do believe he will at least - tolerate you.”

Hermione listened patiently to her words and nodded while looking at Severus. “Yes, I’ll do whatever is needed.”

Minerva smiled, relieved that she accepted. “Of course, she has no idea what she’s getting into,” she thought to herself.

“Good. You may stay for a few minutes, but must get yourself something to eat from the kitchens and sleep for a time. Madam Pomfrey will take over for you. I shall leave you now.”

Hermione looked back at her former Professor and noted that she’d never seen him in anything but black robes. She looked at his pale chest visible between the bandages, and the bruising starting to form. She placed another blanket on him, and then rose to go get some dinner.

“Stubborn, nasty, unforgiving and calloused,” she said aloud while looking down at him.

Smiling slightly to herself, she turned to leave.

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The morning sun filtered through the stained glass windows, washing the usually dark room with intense light. One beam was traveling across the floor inch by inch, making its way over to where a four poster bed stood. After a time, it reached the bed and crept up the sheets moving over a peacefully sleeping body.

“He looks so peaceful when asleep, doesn’t he?” Hermione said mostly to herself while arranging new bandages on a table for the next changing.

“Yes, I’d say so, although I think we can stop giving him the sleeping potion this morning,” Poppy said. She was checking in on how Hermione was doing after a week with the sleeping patient.

“Just wait until he wakes, you won’t think him so peaceful then,” she thought with an inward grin.

Hermione nodded, “Just the pain potion and changing bandages then?”

“Yes, you’re doing a marvelous job. Keep it up. The wounds look good,” she said with a glance at Severus. “You know where to find me if needed.”

Hermione nodded and walked Madam Pomfrey to the door. Returning to the bedroom, she sighed and looked around the room. She had brightened things up considerably, having the house-elves clear away the clutter and open the drapes. It was such a lovely view and a shame, in her opinion, that he kept it shut out. Hermione glanced at the clock and noticed it was time to change the bandage on his thigh. She hadn’t had a problem with it so far, but began to wonder what could happen should he wake up.

She worried her lip as she moved the bandages to the bed. She surveyed his condition. "Still thin, even with the nourishment potions. How high can his metabolism be? I’ll need to change the wraps soon…"

She smiled at the silk boxers, thinking about how the girls would whisper in class. She would overhear them joke about what was under all those robes, prompting her to roll her eyes before attempting to concentrate on her work. His voice was another matter. It didn't matter what he was saying; he could be reciting the train timetable backwards and it would be pure ecstasy of sound. Something about the depths it could reach, achieving a rolling motion all its own.

Hermione laughed to herself, "If those girls could see this they'd just about pass out."

“Funny, I always thought you’d be the y-front type, Mr. In-control-at-all-times," she muttered to herself, humming as she pulled his leg into her lap. She knew he’d have a fit knowing someone handled him in any way. She spread the healing lotion on the deep gash which ran from high up near his hip to his knee. It was so deep she doubted walking was in his immediate future. She concentrated on replacing the bandage perfectly, winding the tape around his leg to ensure it’d stay put.

She failed to notice one thing; her patient was glaring at her.

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Feedback Thread

Every chapter deserves a "thank you" to my beta, Tahra. May she always be happy to be paid with sneak peeks at the next chapter. It certainly is free.


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... Strange Homecoming Part Two




Sleeping was not a talent Severus possessed, which explained why he roamed the castle most nights, the sport of catching students out after curfew his only pastime. Nightmares of the things he had witnessed and done over the years haunted him mercilessly. He ceased actively seeking sleep long ago, simply allowing exhaustion to dictate when he would rest.

He felt groggy, as if swimming back to the surface through murky waters. He was dimly aware of something touching him, applying something soothing on his leg. No one except Poppy had successfully doctored him, and that was after threatening to hex some important bits off if he continued to refuse. Since then, he’d avoided her whenever returning from the meetings injured, choosing to deal with it himself. Severus attempted to open his eyes, fighting the morning sun to adjust. Looking down to investigate just who at this moment held his leg, he jerked in surprise. His surprise quickly slid towards horror at who it was.

“Miss Granger, unhand me this instant!” he rasped, his voice raw from disuse. He tried to move away, but found that his body refused all commands without blinding pain. Startled out of her thoughts, Hermione jumped up and spun to find him glaring at her. In doing so, she dropped his injured leg, causing him to hiss in pain as it fell back on the bed.

“Well, if you hadn’t startled me!” she cried, watching him stare at her with clenched teeth as he waited for the pain to subside.

“Just what in the world do you think you’re doing? Where are my clothes?” he demanded, looking around the room. “And what in Merlin’s beard have you done to my rooms? And close those blasted drapes!” he shouted, squinting against the light with one eye and glaring with the other.

“Prof-, umm,” she sputtered, trying to figure out what to say.

“Ah, back with us are you, Severus?” Minerva said sweetly. Both Hermione and Severus turned at the same time as she entered the room.

“Minerva, would you explain to me why Miss Granger is here, and why I am almost completely unclothed?” he demanded, clearly out of his element.

“Yes, of course, Severus. But first, let me send for some tea and toast. You must be hungry for real food after all this time and we have much to discuss, yes?” Minerva said while looking down at him as if he was eleven again.

Remembering recent events, he changed his tone, “Yes, I suppose we do.”

“I insist on some clothes, even a prisoner deserves that much,” he called as Minerva left the room to Floo the kitchens. He gathered up the sheets in an attempt to cover himself, and sneered at Hermione as she tried hard to suppress a smile at his modesty. A house-elf popped in and, upon seeing Severus, squeaked loudly. She quickly placed the tea service and breakfast trays down while never letting her eyes off of him.

“Well now, tuck in," Minerva said. She seated herself by the bed and gestured for Hermione to take a seat as well.

Taking a deep breath she began, “First, let me be clear. You are not a prisoner. We’ve all witnessed your conversation with Albus and what happened on the Astronomy Tower. Tonks has verified the memory as a record of your debt to Albus and you've been cleared.” A deep wave of sadness passed over her and she felt lost at that moment.

Returning to herself, she continued, “Hermione found you on the castle lawn and has been tending to your wounds this past week-”

“Week?” he interrupted with a stunned look on his face. His eyes flew to Hermione.

“Yes, a week,” she said while taking a sip of tea and ignoring his reaction. “You’ve been unconscious since then. Hermione has been taking care of you, and quite nicely I see.”

Minerva leaned a little, looking at the bit of his leg still visible. Hermione noticed that she could almost see him blush slightly as he jerked the sheet over further. Hermione could see the improvement in his color and the even the nasty cut on his head. Luckily, he had yet to notice that she washed his hair and conditioned it to be smooth and silky with a flowery shampoo. That, of course, would not last long as the man refused to take care of himself in that respect. Thankfully, she stopped herself short of braiding it to keep it back, thinking she would like to avoid being hexed into oblivion.

“Now," Minerva continued, “You’ve got quite a lot of healing to do and Hermione will be looking after you. No arguments, Severus. I’ll leave you to rest,” she said and rose.

“Oh, and Severus? If I hear of you giving her trouble, you’ll have me to answer to, understood?”

Severus crossed his arms and while hunching his shoulders answered, “Fine, as long as she keeps quiet and leaves me alone.”

“Agreed. Hermione, you’re doing well, I’ll check in on you later,” Minerva said and turned to leave.

After Hermione smiled and went into the adjacent room to fetch another potion, Severus raised his head and called, “Minerva?”

Minerva stopped and stood in the doorway.

“I don’t know what to say about all of this,” he said quietly, taking time to be able to look at her, "There aren't words to adequately express how sorry I am."

She looked at him there, his soul laid open to her, apologizing. “Something Severus never does,” she thought to herself.

Trying to think of what Albus would want her to say, she looked him in the eyes and, after thinking for a moment, said simply, “You did what had to be done.” She nodded slightly as if to affirm her thoughts, and left.

Hermione returned to the bedroom and stood in the doorway; the potion forgotten in her hands. She watched as Severus faced the window and rubbed his palm across his eyes before running his fingers through his hair.

----------

“Sir?"

When he turned to her with the same irritated expression as usual she was surprisingly relieved. Whatever had just passed between McGonagall and Severus was obviously disturbing. Hermione didn't know if she was ready just yet to address how complex everything had become in recent days. He was watching her reaction, as if determining her motives for even being in the room with him at this point. A long, uncomfortable silence passed. The kind that demands interruption.

"It’s time for you to take this, sir,” Hermione said, cautiously entering the room.

“And just what is this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a brief sniff of the bottle’s contents. “Planning to drug me again to have your fun?”

“What?” Hermione said shocked, “I’d never … I was taking care of the wound! And this is for the pain!” She could feel the color rise in her face at the injustice and cursed herself for allowing him to play her so easily. He was still looking at her, observing her reaction with amusement.

“Yes, much more fun than torturing Poppy,” he thought, grinning to himself.

“Sir, you need to take it. The previous potion will wear off soon,” Hermione ventured, hoping he'd just cooperate to get rid of her. “Madam Pomfrey has written this schedule and-”

“You can just discard that right in the lake for all I care, I’m not taking anything,” he stated with an air of finality. “I’m fine."

Angered that he’d disturb her perfect care record, Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. “Sir, with all due respect, you need to take this. Now, please.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at her attitude and simply responded, “No.”

“Sir, please,” she pleaded.

“Miss Granger-” he began and rolled his eyes with disgust, “I am a fully grown wizard, and can take care of myself just fine without someone hovering over me, trying to play nurse. Now, if you’ll remove yourself from my sight, I’m going to take a bath.”

Hermione was furious. “Playing nurse? Two can play at this,” she thought, seething.

“Oh, really? Are you now?”

His eyes shot up at her, a look of surprise at her tone was there for a moment, then was gone.

“Yes, really. Might I suggest you watch your tone? Now, run along and find your little friends and leave me alone,” he growled as he dragged his leg to the edge of the bed, and then began to shove himself up with more effort than he planned. He tried to remain as silent as someone with broken ribs could be out of pride. By the time he was sitting up, he was severely out of breath.

“No, I think I’d like to see this,” she said as she took a seat by the bed and crossed her arms.

"Splendid, now I’m a spectator sport," he thought while gritting his teeth. He'd need to breathe soon and could only hope that a groan wouldn't escape along with the exchange of air. Most of him wanted to shout at her, hurling insults until she left the room, but another part wanted to fight with her. No one had ever hoped to match him word for word, and it looked like she was going to put up an interesting fight at least. Quite entertaining.

“Well? Just when are you planning to go get that bath of yours? We have a schedule to keep, you know?” she said while holding up the clock and tapping the face. “You’re going to eat a full lunch today.”

Hermione was stunned at how she was daring to speak to him, and that he hadn't verbally torn her apart yet. She had forgotten to address him as ‘sir’ too many times to count. Some strange voice in the back of her mind wondered why he was actually tolerating her; obviously he could have thrown a bigger fit. She decided to see just how far she could go.

Muttering under his breath, Severus sat with one leg hanging off of the bed. Gradually, he moved the other leg to the floor and in one motion made to stand.

“See?” he said, trying to breathe and not groan in pain. He was putting all of his weight on his right leg to avoid touching the other.

“Now, the show is over. Go on and leave.”

“Walk.”

Severus stared at her incredulously, “What?”

“Well, walk. You don’t think the bath is going to travel out here, do you?” she said, doing a spectacular job at suppressing a grin.

"If he won’t listen to me that he’s not up to walking, he’ll have to find out for himself. It’s a pity he has a stone floor," she thought.

“Miss Granger, I demand that you leave!” he yelled, trying to point at the door and keep his balance at the same time.

“Oh, with all due respect, sir, I will not.” At his look of building rage and wavering balance she continued, “Headmistress McGonagall has tasked me with your care and that’s exactly what I’m going to do, whether you like it or not. If you don’t believe me when I tell you that you’re too weak and injured to walk, then see for yourself.”

With a slight smirk, she settled back into the chair and repeated, “Walk.”

Severus stared at her in disbelief, and then narrowed his eyes as if he was going to literally take hold of her and throw her out. He was even more shocked when Hermione completely ignored him and made a shooing motion with her hands. Her complete audacity both infuriated and fascinated him.

He was losing both his balance and strength to stand, and the bathroom was at least ten feet away. Calculating his stride, that meant either putting weight on the mangled leg about five times, or hopping. That was out of the question as there was no way to perform the motion with any dignity, never mind while wearing nothing but a flimsy robe, boxers, and bandages.

“I’m waiting.”

He took one step and, as predicted, his leg immediately buckled, landing him in an awkward kind of split. Hermione was there in an instant and caught his upper body. In the process, she grazed all of the cuts on his back and squeezed his broken ribs together, causing him to do what anyone else would do. He screamed bloody murder.

----------

Minerva selected a school owl to correspond with the Ministry regarding Severus’ condition, and plans to stay at Hogwarts. They had requested a full inquiry into the details of the life debt and the events of that night. She had so far refused to have him appear in person, stating simply he was cleared and was in no condition to be disturbed. Tonks had taken the case, testifying to the life debt and doing an excellent job at placating their need for information. Humming softly to herself, she reached for a large tawny owl to attach her letter.

Suddenly, all of the owls startled and took flight, flying at her in all directions while aiming for the way out. At the same time, she heard a horrible scream filling the air, reverberating off the walls of the owlery, and echoing to the ceiling. Feathers were everywhere, and dust from the droppings clouded her sight. The inhumane sound was coming from the direction of Severus' rooms.

Minerva dropped the note and ran out the door, batting straggling owls out of her way. She ran through the halls, holding her robes up to clear her legs as best she could. She burst into the bedroom and surveyed the arrangement of bodies on the floor. Hermione was pinned under a sprawled and unconscious Severus while his leg was bent under him. His gash had reopened, bleeding on the stone floor. Hermione was in the process of shoving him off of her.

“Headmistress, I-he was trying to walk and well, fell,” Hermione stuttered, trying her best to explain the state of her patient.

“I can see that, Hermione, now please help me get him back in bed. That’s it, grab him under his arms. Come now, he won’t bite. Now, one-two-three, up and over,” Minerva coached as they dragged the unconscious wizard back onto the bed.

As Hermione worked to stop the flow of blood, she was startled to find him awakening again.

“Insolent girl, can’t you keep your hands off me for one minute!” he yelled as she pressed the cloth into the wound. Hermione didn't think it possible for someone to yell through clenched teeth like that.

“Now, who would like to explain to me what in the world happened here?” Minerva asked both of them sternly, her hands on her hips.

Severus shifted his eyes in Minerva’s direction, and then allowed them to drift up to her hair.

“Minerva, why are there feathers in your hair?” Severus suddenly asked, looking up at her innocently. Hermione noticed a smirk along with the alternating looks of pain on his face as she worked on his leg.

“Severus! Please!” Minerva cried in frustration, plucking feathers out of her hair and brushing dust from her robes. “The two of you need to come to an agreement and work together, understood? I am not going to referee between the two of you!”

Hermione thought it seemed odd to be scolded alongside him, but then realized that he, too, was a student at one time.

Minerva practically growled in frustration, and turned for the door. Hermione watched her fuming Headmistress leave and stole a look at Severus. She was startled to not only find him looking back at her, but that he was suppressing a smile.

She didn’t know if she should be happy or very, very afraid.

------------

“Miss Granger, are you going to stop staring at me, or is this going to go on all day?” Severus growled, quickly losing the devious grin at Minerva’s frustrated departure.

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts. “Yes, almost done, sir.” She finished up cleaning the wound and stood, still unnerved at seeing that look upon his face and worse yet, in her direction.

“The man has an evil grin,” she thought.

“Fine. Now leave me alone. Go find something to do that requires you far from me.”

“Sir, the potion-”

“I told you I’m fine,” he said, gritting his teeth, “now get out!”

“Fine! I’ll see about lunch then!” she shouted, stomping from the room and slamming the door.

“Stubborn, nasty,” she mumbled to herself as she went to floo the kitchens for lunch.

“Finally, peace,” he muttered and laid back. The pain was coming on with alarming intensity, but he wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, let alone her. He glanced at the potion sitting on the nightstand and for a moment considered taking some. He’d rather suffer. Running his hands through his hair he noticed two things. The first that it was not greasy for once in his life, and second, that in the fiasco his head wound had opened and he was bleeding again.

“Damn,” he muttered and glanced at the bathroom door again.

Hermione returned and stated, “Lunch will be here soon, and then you’re scheduled for a nap. No excuses.” She pointed to a parchment where a schedule was neatly printed.

“First, do not speak to me like a child, Miss Granger, and second-"

“Why is there blood on your hand?” Hermione interrupted with concern on her face and approached the bed. “It’s your head again, isn’t it?” she said moving to touch him.

“Yes, well-it’ll be fine,” he mumbled and swung his head to avoid her touch.

“Yes, sure and I guess you’d be happy to just bleed all over everything then, right? I’m getting sick of you and your bravery act! Why can’t you just let someone take care of you? I swear Madam Pomfrey was right. You are better knocked out!”

A voice in the back of her brain was screaming at her to stop, that he'd surely go mental on her now.

“Oh really?” He felt strangely calm, considering her outburst.

“Yes, and she was spot on too.”

“Why are you here?” he asked evenly.

Hermione blinked at the sudden, careening turn in the argument. He looked satisfied at her perplexed expression, and regarded her with a calculated gaze, awaiting her next move.

“I’ve been asked to take care-“

Severus swiftly interrupted her, “Miss Granger, let’s not insult each other’s intelligence. Why are you here?”

“Because I care and want to help,” Hermione said seriously.

Hermione watched him try to fathom how anyone would care. It was obvious to her that he didn’t completely believe her. When he narrowed his eyes slightly and looked into her eyes she did not look away, almost hoping he’d see that she was telling the truth. It saddened her that he was so suspicious that anyone would care enough to help.

While a heavy curtain of silence fell between them, Hermione waited.

Either he had chosen to no longer fight or ceased to care because Hermione heard him mutter, “Fine.”

She watched him for a moment. Her attention was drawn to his hairline, where a small trickle of blood was starting to travel down his forehead.

“Will you let me clean the wound again, sir?” Hermione asked in an even tone.

Even as he intercepted the trail of blood before it could reach his eyes he stated, “No.”

When she saw his eyes flick towards the bathroom doubtfully, she ignored his refusal and said, “I think that using water, rather than magic, would be best. I can do it here.”

After considering for a moment, Severus sighed in frustrated defeat, “Fine.”

Hermione brightened as she concentrated on transfiguring the nightstand into a water basin. At first, she thought he would refuse and start up another round of argument, but watched as he leaned over and reached for the water. She could tell that even performing that small movement produced a tremendous amount of pain; not that he would ever admit it.

She set about washing the blood out of his hair as he tried to hold his head over the basin. Grabbing the shampoo, she started massaging it in small circles, starting at his temples, and moving slowly inch by inch along the sides around his ears and meeting in the back. She then started along his forehead, taking care around the cut and paid special attention there to clean the blood away. Using larger circles and adding more of her nails, she worked on the back of his head down near his neck, moving back up and towards the top again.

The motion of running her hands on his head brought her back to when she found him on the lawn, blood coming from just about every major part of his broken body. All she could do was stroke the side of his head and smooth the hair down while the others came to help. At the time, she hadn't realized that she was screaming for them to come faster, to do something. Nothing like that had ever happened to her, and to think that someone was literally dying in her arms tore her world apart. She was a problem-solver at heart, and if she failed it would kill her. She was lost in those thoughts as she worked the lather more than necessary. She repeated the pattern a few more times, taking her time to massage his scalp, telling herself it was for healing purposes. She then carefully rinsed it clean, adding the healing balm along the cut. He was even leaning into her hands slightly as she worked. Something she didn’t think would be possible for him.

“He’d probably hex anyone coming upon this scene into next week," she smiled to herself.

Suddenly, she could feel him tense under her hands. In one movement, he pushed her roughly away, somehow managed to lunge for the opposite nightstand, and grabbed his wand. Hermione saw the murderous look on Severus’ face and followed his line of sight.

Harry Potter stood in the doorway with his wand raised, and a look of complete rage on his face.

------

Feedback Thread

Oh no! It's been almost a month since I last updated - I didn't realize. *rapps knuckles* Well here it finally is guys and girls. Thanks again to Tahra, who is successfully dodging interesting weather patterns to beta for me... in her basement of course.

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Reunion




Harry stood in the doorway, his wand shaking as he pointed it directly at Severus.

“Try it,” Severus growled, almost wanting him to strike. His voice barely betrayed the tremendous pain from throwing himself to retrieve his wand. The room blurred for a moment before refocusing, mostly due to the adrenaline now pumping through his veins. His heart beat wildly.

“Harry! NO!” Hermione screamed. She launched herself to her feet and rushed at Harry. “Please! You saw it in the Pensieve! He did what he had to do!” she reasoned frantically, trying to force his wand down.

“Hermione, don't defend this worthless lump! Get out of the way!” Harry raged, trying to push her aside.

“Stupefy!” Harry roared, and swung his arm around Hermione. The spell immediately bounced away from Severus, crossed the room, and destroyed the dresser, sending splinters of wood everywhere. All of the pictures fell off the walls, sending the occupants screaming out of their frames with their arms up over their heads. A considerable amount of sawdust sprinkled Severus' wet hair. He remained in the same place on the bed, looking almost comfortable, propped up on his right elbow and holding his wand casually. Harry had a look of raging frustration and was breathing hard. His wand hand trembled.

“Come on, Potter, surely you can do better than that? After all, I’m a wounded man lying in bed,” Severus teased with a bored voice, provoking Harry further.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Harry yelled, shoving his shoulder against Hermione. The spell again rebounded wildly, this time heading straight back. Harry and Hermione managed to avoid a direct hit, but the bedroom door did not fare as well. With a loud crack, it blew off its hinges, cart wheeled end-over-end, and came to rest across an armchair in the sitting room.

“Oh please, you’re boring me with this.” Severus sneered. “Just like a Potter to attack an injured man. Your father knew he never had a chance against me alone, so he always chose to have his gang around to ambush me.”

Harry moved to cast again, even as Hermione wrestled with him.

“Potter, haven’t you learned anything yet? You haven't a chance against the Dark Lord! Do you seriously expect your series of sad spells advertised well ahead of time is going to be a match for him? I can hear your thoughts across the room without even trying,” Severus mocked. “It’s a shame you didn’t take after your mother. You had to grow up to be just like your worthless father!” That should do it. Come on, give me a challenge.

Hermione placed herself directly between them, pushing Harry back out the doorway. When Severus mentioned Lily, Harry froze, then surged forward, completely out of control.

“SHUT UP! You don’t know anything about my mother! Don’t you dare talk about her!” Harry yelled.

“Harry, stop!” Hermione cried. She had one foot up against the doorway, trying to block him from getting around her. Every time she turned to call her wand he tried to slip past her.

A smirk of amusement spread across Severus’ face at the nerve he had touched. “Oh, but I did know her. She was kind and intelligent and deserved much more. Even in death, she showed nothing but love, dying to protect you. And look at what you’ve become ... nothing but an arrogant prat. I have news for you, Potter, you are heading towards certain death.” he said, regarding Harry with disgust.

“EXPEL-” Harry began, but was cut off as Severus’ wand moved a fraction. Harry was suddenly jerked upwards by his ankles and hung in the air. His wand slipped from his hand and clattered onto the stone floor.

“Let me go!” Harry screamed, his face turning bright red. He swung his arms uselessly as he raged. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Going to kill me, Potter? Oh, my mistake. Here, please continue,” Severus said in an apologetic voice. Suddenly, Harry was unceremoniously dropped headfirst to the floor in a heap of robes and limbs.

“Professor Snape, please!” Hermione yelled, and called her wand. With a devious smile, Severus shrugged his shoulders in an apologetic motion.

“You don’t know anything, you liar! You’re the reason they’re dead! You told Voldemort about the prophecy!” Harry roared, his face filled with pain and anger. Hermione held Harry’s wand hand down and pointed hers at Severus.

“Enough! Both of you, stop!” Hermione cried and finally wrenched Harry’s wand from his hand. She noticed that Severus paid her almost no attention. The only indication that he was aware of her wand was a slight twitch of one eyebrow, nothing more. It was more of an irritated expression than anything even remotely near concern.

“Yes, that part is true,” Severus said, ignoring Hermione, “I didn’t know who the prophecy referred to, though. Had I known, I would have never told the Dark Lord.”

Hermione noticed that Severus was no longer holding himself up very well. He still appeared remarkably calm, even with bits of wood all over him and his hair in a mess of half-dried tangles.

Severus looked to consider for a moment before he said in a quieter voice, “Your mother refused to give you up to the Dark Lord, even though…” Severus trailed off. When he spoke again, his voice entered a dreamlike state. “She could have lived, but chose to save you. She should have listened and put you aside.”

“How do you...?” Harry asked slowly, his anger migrating towards curiosity. Hermione, as always, was one step ahead. Her face held an expression of dawning realization.

She distractedly lowered her wand. The tension in the room became unbearable.

“Because,” Severus began, pausing long to think before looking up at them both. “I know, because I was there.”

------------------

“Lily, he wants the boy, let him go!” Severus pleaded with Lily as she clutched Harry to her chest. As a reward for his alerting him to the prophecy, Voldemort brought Severus with him to watch him take care of the problem.

Lily and James had been cornered in a back room before James began to fight for his family’s life. The duel had traveled through the rooms, settling in an adjacent bedroom. Severus had instructions not to interfere, as Voldemort wanted to handle them himself. He was ordered to keep Lily restrained while Voldemort went after James.

The walls were half-destroyed from dodged spells. The ceiling hung in tatters, and flames had begun to take hold above, raining burning fragments of wood down around them. Lily and Severus both twitched as the sound of Voldemort casting a killing curse in the other room reached them. Somewhere several windows exploded with incredible force. All of the walls shifted slightly, indicating that a collapse was imminent.

Lily became both frantic and determined at the same time. Harry, silent until now, began to scream.

“NO! He’ll have to kill me first! Reason with him, Severus! He’s just a baby!” Lily cried, now begging him to intervene.

“Lily, I can’t. The prophecy states that the boy is a threat! Leave him and you’ll be spared! You can have other children!”

When Lily violently shook her head, Severus took hold of her shoulders. “Let him go, it’s your only chance!” Severus pleaded, with panic rising in his own voice.

Lily and Severus both crouched as a wall nearby blasted inward, slamming wood and furniture across the room. The silence that fell in the other room could only mean one thing.

“Please!” Severus tried in a hoarse whisper, true fear striking his heart. What have I done?

“Give me the child.” Voldemort said in a cold voice as he strode into the room.

Lily screamed as she clutched Harry even tighter against her, directly over her heart. “NO! He’s just a baby. He’s no threat to you!”

“I’m warning you, now stand aside!” Voldemort sneered as he stepped closer and raised his wand slowly.

“My Lord, perhaps we could use her. She is quite talented at Potions and could be an asset.” Severus reasoned carefully, trying to keep his features slick while pleading for Lily and Harry’s lives. “The child cannot possibly be a threat-”

“Enough!” Voldemort roared, as he spun and thrust his wand against Severus’ throat. Severus could see the mix of terror and utter despair on Lily's face. Voldemort had already cast a spell preventing Apparition on the house, effectively sealing any escape.

In a quiet voice, full of the kind of anger made worse by detached calm, Voldemort hisse. “You dare to question me?”

It was the type of cold, almost casual question that could easily be mistaken for normal. However, when utilized by the truly deranged, the tone meant so much more. Behind those simple words lurked the promise of torture, or if one was lucky, a quick death.

Severus took a step backwards and flicked his eyes to Lily before stating, “No, my Lord…”

Without warning, Voldemort roared. “CRUCIO!”

Severus fell in a heap and was thrust into a dark world of searing pain. It rolled in waves, washing over him and never quite receding. Some part of his mind registered the smell of burning upholstery and that the flames must be approaching.

Dimly, he heard Lily continue to scream for her baby’s life.

--------

Points to anyone who can read between the lines.

Feedback Thread

Thanks again to Tahra my wonderful beta. Cheers for her adding a new window in her basement... unfortunately my owl knocked on the door.


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Creating Change





"Never once did she plead for her own."

The dead silence was startlingly empty. Severus had a slightly removed look about him as he told the story, while Harry’s face held a mixture of confusion and disbelief. He stared at Severus, seemingly lost in the words, his wand forgotten.

Hermione’s heart broke at the thought of Severus living with the knowledge that his mistake cost his first love her life. She caught his eyes for a moment, expecting to see regret. What she saw there instead was resentment, before he swept his gaze to Harry.

Severus broke the silence. “I was already spying then,” he said with force, as if to drive home the point that he was, indeed, working for the Order even before Harry was born. “In return for Dumbledore's protection from being sent to Azkaban, I agreed to become a spy and made an Unbreakable Vow.”

He looked up at Harry with revulsion spreading on his face as he said, “I vowed to protect you.”

“That can’t be true,” Harry said in disbelief.

Severus’ face darkened dangerously.

“Oh? And why in the world would I make up something like this?” Severus snarled. “Do you believe for one moment that I enjoy being bound to protect you? The son of a man I hated more than anything in this world?”

“Think, Potter! I‘ve had the opportunity to kill you a thousand times. I could have easily killed you not more than ten minutes ago. I have the power to dispose of you in ways unknown to civilized wizarding society, and why haven‘t I? Do you think I've enjoyed being tortured by the Dark Lord for failing to deliver you?”

Silence fell. Harry had no answer, it seemed, and instead had taken to simply staring. Hermione remained between them, poised should either one choose to start up again. Severus shot her a look as if to say she must be joking to dare point her wand at him.

“Minerva was our Bonder,” Severus stated. He lifted a hand and gestured beyond them.

“That is true,” Minerva stated as she walked into the room, neatly stepping over the mass of broken wood strewn across the floor. She and Severus exchanged a look before she surveyed the room. She had been in her office when the charms warning of the use of dueling spells had sounded. It wasn't difficult to decipher what it meant.

“Now,” she said, allowing her eyes to settle for a moment on each guilty party. “Am I to expect that every time I enter these rooms, I shall be greeted with fallen patients or destroyed furniture?”

“Harry burst in, and well things just-” Hermione started, shooting a frustrated look at Harry, and then to Severus, who gave her a look of innocence. He’s very talented at slipping out of trouble, that one.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” Harry said. His face still held a detached expression.

“I do think that would be prudent, Mr. Potter. Perhaps when Severus is up to it, we can all sit down to discuss this. Until then, he requires rest, nothing else. Agreed?” she said, looking at Harry and expecting nothing but an affirmative answer. Her tone also meant that this incident would not be forgotten.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered.

Hermione watched as Harry shot Severus a look of hatred before leaving. Part of Hermione wanted them to come to an agreement to work together and combine their talents. Considering what had just happened, though, she worried that the possibility of a partnership was extremely remote.

“Now, Severus, I see your lunch has arrived,” Minerva said, and, with a wave of her wand, repaired the dresser, replaced the pictures to the walls, and relocated the door back to its proper home. “Please tell me you two can manage a meal without more drama?”

“Yes,” Hermione and Severus answered almost simultaneously, again feeling uncomfortable under McGonagall’s critical eye.

"Oh, and Severus?” Minerva asked. She waited while he shoved his wet hair out of his face. “Make sure you watch that attitude for just a few hours, understood? Try being nice to Miss Granger for once,” she suggested, giving the slightest of nods at him as she left the room.

Severus was dumbfounded. The way Minerva had given him that look made an impression that left him stunned.

“Sir?”

Severus jerked out of his thoughts, glaring at her as he winced in pain.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Hermione apologized. The expression on his face, though, intrigued her.

“I’m sorry for Harry-” she began. Suddenly the nightstand became fascinating.

“It is not your place to apologize for the likes of him,” he said quickly, sneering at the thought of her feeling responsible for Potter’s actions.

Hermione shrugged. She had no excuse for the way Harry acted; however, part of her couldn’t blame him for his feelings. “That was - I mean - how did you? Well - I mean…”

“Miss Granger, I may be skilled at Legilimency, but you are not making sense,” he said, a bit harsher than he intended.

“Well, sir, I mean - fighting Harry without even getting up and wounded was well – impressive,” Hermione said carefully, afraid of his response to a compliment.

“Yes, well,” he said, then, after clearing his throat and straightening a little, continued, “I do believe you’re one of the first to recognize my skill.”

“Except Lockhart,” Hermione said with a grin.

Severus nodded, “Indeed. That pompous fool was in desperate need of an ego adjustment.”

Silence stretched between them as Hermione couldn’t help but catch his gaze. Once there, she was surprised to find that she couldn’t look away, even though the amount of time seemed rude. Severus’ face, however, held a calm but intense expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked to be considering her.

Hermione blinked and mumbled, “I’ll just - go fetch lunch and be back shortly.”

“Yes, of course.” He did not remove his dark eyes from hers.

She shook her head and moved to the door.

As Hermione brought the tray, she caught a look on Severus' face, as if he was waging some internal war. It quickly disappeared once he saw her. Lunch passed peacefully, with both of them successfully avoiding each other’s eyes.

“What is on your - ” he began, and hesitated. Am I seriously doing this? “What is on your schedule, Miss Granger?” Severus finished, sighing with a twinge of defeat.

A hesitant smile spread on Hermione’s face at the prospect of at least a semi-cooperative patient. “Ah, let’s see … it says for you to take a nap, sir.”

She glanced at him cautiously, suspicious of the shift.

Knowing the answer in advance, she asked anyway, “Do you want a sleeping potion?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he said and leaned back. In true Slytherin fashion, his intention was to let it appear as if he was allowing her a victory. In truth, he was exhausted.

Hermione helped arrange the sheets over him. When she went to straighten up, she avoided his eyes, fearful of getting lost once again. He had a penetrating gaze that felt like she was being examined from the inside out. The realization that she was close enough to feel his breath struck her, and she pulled away.

He watched her with a look in his eyes that both drew her to him and made her want to run at the same time. It was as if some force meant for the moment to occur, refusing to allow it to pass unnoticed. Slowly, she withdrew and moved towards the door, keeping her eyes on him as an uneasy silence stretched out between them.

“I - um, will be in the sitting room if you need anything.”

He nodded, appearing both tired and intensely interested. Hermione stood with her hand on the doorknob for a moment before closing it completely.

---------------------------

Hermione had left the room an hour ago, but Severus could not calm his thoughts well enough to even remotely consider sleep. He was currently trying to differentiate dreams from reality enough to grasp exactly what was occurring between them. Part of him wanted to push her away, to believe that she couldn't possibly want to get involved with him, that it was too strange of a situation. He could tell from reading her emotions that she felt something towards him. Whether it was the need to take care of him, or true attraction, had yet to be seen.

Various reasons why it could happen invaded his thoughts as well, pushing doubts aside. If he read Minerva's expression correctly, it was agreeable with her for some strange reason. His suspicious nature questioned her motives, as he could find no reason why she would want to help grant him happiness, in any form.

“Sir?” Hermione asked, as she ventured into the room cautiously. “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking that you might want to move to the other room and read."

Severus nodded with his best air of indifference.

After finishing with a bandage change, Hermione helped Severus to the sitting room. They had become quite good at walking in time, so Hermione could act as his crutch. His breathing became labored as his ribs hurt tremendously; however, he had absolutely no intention of letting her know. Several times she insisted on stopping, as he would simply hold his breath rather than make a sound. Once in the room, she set him down and gathered some books for him to read.

They had passed several hours in companionable silence. Every so often, Hermione would steal a glance carefully in an attempt at reading his expression. She noticed that his brow would come together slightly whenever he took a deeper breath, or moved even a fraction. It was difficult to watch him for too long unnoticed, as he was painfully aware of anyone's eyes on him.

After watching Severus carefully breathing to avoid making a sound yet again, Hermione fetched the pain potion and stated, “You’re taking this.”

His eyes widened as he responded casually, “Oh, you believe so? I believe we've already established my position quite clearly."

Hermione dropped the politeness and asked, "And give me one good reason why, other than stubborn male pride?"

Both eyebrows shot up in surprise at the way she had spoken to him. He lowered the book, and said in a calm voice, "I need no reason to explain my actions, or my refusal. It is my pain."

“You can't breathe correctly and you’re not fooling anyone. You’re only spending more energy to keep your pride, rather than allowing me to take care of you.”

He glared at her. “Bravery does not become you.”

“There is nothing brave about insisting that your little act is completely useless, not to mention childish,” Hermione countered. She figured that if he was going to tear into her for her lack of respect, it certainly would have happened by now.

“Miss Granger, I have spent my entire life being insulted in various ways, and have been ridiculed by the best. There is nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

She shook her head slowly as she said thoughtfully, “I figured you would be intelligent enough to see the logic. I guess I was wrong.”

His eyes shot to her, then narrowed.

“Interesting angle, Miss Granger. A failure, but interesting.”

Hermione thought for a moment. He hadn’t completely destroyed her yet, cutting her to pieces with sharp words that would bring anyone to their knees. Something flashed there. He was holding back.

At her irritated expression, he added while gesturing towards her with the book, "You should be glad that I am in a good mood."

"Yes, you're very threatening right about now," Hermione said, rolling her eyes before even thinking. He was acting so childishly that she had slipped directly into the way she would fight with Harry or Ron.

"You are playing with fire, Miss Granger, and are on my last nerve. Do not attempt to take part in a battle of wits or dissect my motives with wordplay. You will not win."

"Am I playing with fire? Or am I simply beating you at your own game?” Hermione stated with the coldest stare she could come up with. “Not as enjoyable when the opponent hurls it back, is it?"

Severus suddenly struggled to rise, growling, "How dare you ..."

"Oh, getting up again, sir? Want to take a walk?" Hermione asked with mock concern, crossing her arms and holding her ground. She roughly shoved the voice in her head aside. It was now screaming and waving at her to stop, that she couldn't possibly be doing this. Basically, to shut up.

"Miss Granger," he growled in a dangerous tone, "I am warning you. You forget who you are speaking to-"

"And you, sir, are forgetting that I have taken care of you for eight days! You have only been awake for one of them! I hardly think it's difficult to take a simple potion! I'm only here because I care!" Hermione hurled back at him.

"I never requested such an immense sacrifice on your part. Clearly, your overwhelming Gryffindor drive for recognition is at work here. Well, I am fine and can manage on my own. I don't need anyone."

Hermione was beyond furious. "Really? You didn't seem to be doing too well on your own out there on the grounds!" She was yelling now but didn't care.

He froze, his hands still positioned on the arms of the chair where he was attempting to push himself upright.

“If I hadn’t looked out that window, you’d be dead. Admit it,” Hermione said quietly. She set her jaw and glared at him.

There, I said it.

She waited for the tirade to start; however, he only leaned back in the chair.

Instead of exploding in rage, he regarded her with the type of respect usually shown to a worthy opponent. Incredibly, he nodded, as if awarding her silent points.

“I cannot deny it,” he said slowly.

Hermione was breathless, as if she had run up a flight of stairs. She found that her hands had been balled into fists, her nails cutting into her palms. At first, she didn't register what he had said.

“Did I actually win?”

He shook his head. "Not the battle you may believe you are fighting, no."

She looked at him questioningly.

“I am not taking the potion.”

Hermione groaned. She had thought that Harry and Ron were thick at times, but Severus Snape was by far the worst she had ever come across. Ever.

“I’m going to the library for a few hours,” she announced, trying to disguise her frustration. She was actually going to seek permission to hex him into submission, drug him for another week, or two ... anything.

“My soul shall suffer greatly from the loss of your companionship. I shall count the seconds until your return,” he mocked.

While attempting to give him a proper glare, she was confused by what she saw there. He was again studying her with a calculating gaze, as if he was trying to figure her out. It was there for a moment, then gone, replaced by his usual irritated expression.

Breaking the contact, she moved quickly to the door.

As she turned to close the door, she heard him say, "Hermione?"

Shocked that he had used her given name, she took a moment to respond. "Yes?"

She almost thought he wasn't going to speak. The door handle clicked under her fingers as she nervously fiddled with it. The sound of her name coming from him was stunning enough; what came next was memorable.

Severus looked at her sincerely as he tilted his head in a gesture that imparted unspoken respect, however small.

He then looked her in the eyes and said simply, “Thank you.”

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