Hermione wiped heavily at her sticky face. She hadn't any idea how long she had cried, though her own painful wails still left her ears pulsing. It was somewhat liberating in a way. To release all the pain that had built up inside her, gnawing away like an infection. Her heart remained somewhere near her feet and her head was much too heavy to lift but she did manage to push herself up into a seated position.

Her shoulder was certainly bruised but she was grateful that she hadn't broken it. A small rub over the area made her hiss and the space between her legs pulse with need. She sneered at herself for her body's reaction after having just mourned the loss of her parents. It was wrong, disgusting. Just like her.

A small round of self-loathing gave way to a pang in her stomach. She turned her head up towards the posted list and frowned. It showed a big red cross where she was to have eaten lunch.

Her lunch was no longer brought to her as it was the one meal she was responsible for. The small kitchen had plenty of food to choose from but it was her job to eat it. There was a small chime that sounded when she was to do so and she only had an hour window to take the food from the icebox. If she didn't, it didn't count. She could still eat but she lost credit.

A deep groan brought her to her feet. With her hand on her shoulder, she limped her way from the room towards the bathroom. Her hip was definitely bruised as well making it difficult to put too much of her weight on her leg.

The pulse between her legs was becoming harder to ignore as she came to sit on the toilet lid. Her fingers came to the buttons on her shirt—one of his no doubt—that had been shrunk to fit her frame. As she pushed off the softly worn fabric she made a face as her fears were confirmed. A large bruise ran down from the bone of her shoulder almost to her elbow. She would have to show him, there was no way around it. As ashamed as it made her feel, it had to be done.

Another absent sniffle pulled a cloth from the rod and she leaned over the sink to wet it. Her stomach let out a loud growl to which she cursed it to be silent. With a heavy sigh, she pressed the cool cloth to her face, wiping away the evidence of her regret, her guilt, her pain. A small glance to the mirror reflected the hollowness inside her and she quickly covered her eyes.

How had everything gone so wrong?

By the time she had the mental resolve to pull herself free from the darkness creeping towards her soul, she was sitting down at the kitchen table. A bagel with strawberry jam sitting on a plate. It wasn't near enough but as she'd already lost credit she didn't care.

The kitchen held the only clock in the entire space, at first she'd been captivated by it. Lingering as long as she could. Now, it brought her comfort and a small bit of pleasurable anticipation that it was almost time to see him again.

She'd had copious amounts of time to think about what that meant. While her memories were still fuzzy and more than half of her life was still locked away, she knew him. She knew a new side of him. A kind, immeasurably powerful and resilient side of him. Despite how wrong it felt in her mind, her heart told her that he was the answer to the ache inside her. It wasn't love. But it was something.

The clock over head chimed softly. Telling her that it was about time to leave, time for him to release the locks that kept her safe. He had explained the reasoning after she'd gone into a small panic at not being able to leave on her own. That should he be unable to free her the lock would release twelve hours after the chime would sound. That she was to run, run as far away as she could. Not to look for him.

Her eyes turned down to her meal, something about it familiar. As though it wasn't something she would have picked for herself but another. Her head tilted slowly as her eyes went out of focus. A voice echoed in the darkness, a male's, young, kind. A goofy smile came into focus and she struggled to hold onto it. To make it whole.

oOo

Severus groaned deeply as he laid himself back on the raised pillows of his bed. He had taken only a small break on the couch before making the effort to hide himself away. Misty had done well to see that he was at the very least capable of movement but the wounds still burned.

A slow breath left his gritted teeth and he turned his head down to the elf adjusting his blankets, "The girl..."

"Sir?"

"Retrieve... the girl..." Severus reached to his bedside table taking out two—very illegal—very potent pain potions, "Make sure... no one... comes in here..."

"Yes, sir." Misty moved towards the end of the bed that held the trunk, she waited patiently while he took one of the potions, setting the other on the table for later use. When he was finished he flicked his wand at the trunk releasing the blood wards.

Severus let his body fall into the blissful state of medicated unconsciousness not caring if the entire world burned to the ground. His emotional and mental acuity were shot. He had finally, completely worn himself down.

oOo

"Miss?" Misty looked up at the girl at the table, her face terribly sad. She wondered what she was thinking about but didn't have the courage to ask. Instead, she placed her hand on Hermione's arm starting her out of her thoughts.

"Miss?"

"Y-yes?" Hermione blinked away the tears that shone over her bottom lashes, bringing the kind elf into focus.

"Master has requested that you come with me."

"No... No I'm only supposed to go with him... I can't I..." Her words trailed off as her heart picked up. Why hadn't he come? He always came. It had to be him if he didn't come then she... she was supposed to run. Run as far as she could.

Her eyes turned to the clock remembering the sound of the chime, she'd lost nearly an hour in her thoughts trying in vain to create the image that in the end had been taken away from her by her loss of focus. How had she lost so much time?

Misty frowned softly but took a tighter hold of her arm, "I take you to him."

"No!" She didn't want to leave, she didn't want to run. She wanted to stay—with him. She could barely walk, how could she possibly get away? It was too soon, too soon!

Hermione had just enough time to register the elf taking her hand before the world around her changed. The hard wooden chair she'd been sitting in giving way to the much softer and very familiar armchair that sat before the fire.

As the world came into focus she instantly felt as though something was wrong. She was on her feet surprisingly quick for having been injured but the adrenaline that was pulsing through her veins was surely the cause.

When her head whipped around her heart skipped. He was there, in bed—it was too early for sleep—why was he there? As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she found herself moving forward, completely ignoring the elf who was attempting to speak with her.

"Professor?" Her voice trembled with disbelief, "No...no no...no no..." Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest, she was nearly sure she stepped on it on her rush to be by his side, "Professor?"

He was hurt, badly. More so than he'd been before. The wide stretch of gauze over his chest did nothing to hide the inflamed skin beneath. A lump formed in her throat as she found herself kneeling on the edge of the bed, her wide eyes searching his face.

There was a moment when she thought he had truly left her alone before his dark lashes opened just enough to give her a weak scowl. Her face flickered between relief and sadness as she took his hand in hers, bringing it up to her cheek.

"What do you need? What can I do?" She spoke softly but quickly against the backs of his fingers neverminding the way they twitched in her hold.

"Rest... You...eat..."

"I will...I promise..." Hermione pressed her lips to his knuckles as his eyes rolled closed again.

oOOo

Minerva paced her office if she had been in her animagus form her tail surely would have been flicking side to side. She was angry yes but more than that. She felt betrayed. Taken out of the loop. Severus was obviously still dealing with Voldemort but in what way? Why would he have come back injured if not having been in a battle of some sort?

She had checked in with the Order but none of them had any knowledge of any skirmishes on either side. This line of thinking led to another and another before she found herself thinking in circles with no true way of finding answers.

The only people who held them were up in the tower. Albus had blatantly refused any request she had made for an audience. All those whom she'd sent from their portraits had come to tell her that he had not been present. This only boiled her blood more.

Had she not proven her worth in this war? Had she not protected the children of this school? Had she not fought valiantly against all who would see its destruction? What game was being played? Who were the players?

Her mind turned back to what she'd felt inside the wand Miss Weasley had given her. She had felt the unmistakable presence of Miss Granger inside it but there had been his signature as well. Subtle but there. Why had he had it at all? Had he been the one to take her from this world? Had he been given her wand as a reward?

Why was it at Hogwarts at all? She had heard that Miss Granger had passed in the early summer, well before Snape had been given the title of Headmaster. Had he carried it with him? A sort of sick vindication for all the trouble she'd caused him over the years? Did he have a vendetta against her as well?

Minerva pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose coming to an exhausted stop. This was getting her nowhere. She needed to go to the source. He was injured now, weak, if what she feared was true she could easily take him out. It wasn't a good plan but it was the only option she felt was left. She could possibly buy herself time as he hardly left that tower but it wouldn't be much.

Her eyes turned down to her hands, turning them in the low lamplight. Could she even do it? She supposed she could if the proper circumstances were in place but it hardly felt right to kick a man when he was down. There wasn't even a chance he would speak to her. Though, if maybe—just maybe—he was on their side he could lead her in the right direction.

Yes, a game of Slytherin chess. That is what she needed. She couldn't go empty-handed. She needed something. Her brain ticked as she tried to think of what she could possibly offer when she remembered that she'd left behind Miss Granger's wand.

There was a high chance that he'd gone straight into his rooms and hadn't even realized her mistake. Still, she couldn't put all her eggs in one basket.

"Gryff?"

"Yes, ma'am?" The elf that appeared was young in the face but had wide bright eyes and an eager to please smile.

"Can you bring my dinner here? I won't be able to make it to the Great Hall this evening."

"Of course ma'am, right away."

"Thank you." Minerva turned her head towards the clock on her mantle.

oOOo

Hermione winced as she pulled off her shirt. The adrenaline in her system had gone leaving the entire side of her body sore. She had eaten all of her dinner without complant, showing the empty plate to the professor when he'd woken just long enough to ensure that she had in fact eaten.

She had tried to be quiet so as to let him rest but even when she had been sure she'd not made any noise she had caught his eyes just barely open, watching her. While it was comforting to think that he was making sure she was alright, it was he who needed care. So now, instead of sitting up to try and read one of the books that he had been reading aloud to her, she was getting ready for bed.

She bit back a sharp hiss as she pushed her arm through the sleeve of her pajamas. A soft t-shirt and shorts that were just a little oversized. Her shoulder was definitely the agitator of the entire incident but there was nothing she could do about it at present. His potions cabinet was always locked, that and she'd have to tell him she'd hurt herself and she was sure that would only compound what had happened to him. No, she'd been through worse, she would survive.

A glance over to his relaxed face eased her heart, it seemed like he was actually truly resting. It was still a sight to see a man so tense, so constantly wound—look like a gentle giant. Sleep took years off his face, the deep frown lines and sharp narrow eyes gone. It was an image that she couldn't get enough of. Most nights she had fallen asleep long before him and always woke well after. It was in the small moments she really had to think about her position in his world.

A soft sigh pushed her forward and she tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper in the closet. She tried to keep her limp minimal in the chance that he woke up once again to check that she was doing as she was told.

"I'm finished..." Her words were barely a whisper as she came to the edge of the bed. Her hand reaching out to lightly pull away a small lock of hair that had fallen down over his cheek. When his lashes didn't move she let her finger linger, tracing the outline of his lips. Her own grew warm as she took in the softness.

Her fingers trailed down his jaw to his neck feeling the slow steady pulse before moving lower. It was the first real moment where she was actually able to see what she touched as he always had some layer of clothing between them. Now, however, his chest was bare, barring the gauze and it was truly a view worth remembering.

His skin was so pale, like snow, though despite its resemblance it had a warmth that she had come to know well. Her fingers trailed lower to the dip of his waist. Her eyes not seeing the scars that scribbled over the surface but rather the soft definition of muscle. She traced the gentle V down to the hem of his sleeping pants, her fingers twitching to go further.

Her body felt hot, and she knew she wouldn't be able to restrain herself if she didn't stop now. A lude image came to the forefront of her mind, a position she had been forced into during her capture. A position that held her in place over top, forced to take the man beneath her with savage force.

Her eyes closed tight as her hand recoiled to wrap around her waist, the feeling of the ropes holding her aloft, cutting her skin. She pushed it down as she stepped back, the warm feeling she had built up running cold. She felt sick. Sick that she had even thought about repeating such an action, especially on a man who could not defend himself.

When she managed to push the image back to the darkness, her chest was tight and her knees weak. She needed rest. She turned her body further away but came to the realization that her bed had not been put out. She pursed her lips as she tried to think of what to do.

It wasn't like she wasn't sleeping in his bed at all. Even she had noticed the startling consistency of her nightmares and how he'd always made room for her to sleep beside him. Worrying her bottom lip, she limped her way towards the closet where he kept her blankets and stuffed cat, Sniffles, and grabbed only the latter. While most times the cat would find its way to the floor it was definitely something that brought her a mild comfort when trying to calm her mind enough to rest.

Hugging the stuffed animal to her chest she started to limp her way back. The odd gate was not helpful for her sore body and it was starting to make her head pulse. There was no way she would be able to sleep in a chair and not end up worse for wear. No, she needed to lay flat on a bed. With a long lingering glance to the man held center of the large bed, she made her choice. If he didn't want her there, he would have made sure to have Misty put out her bed.

Yes, that was the logic she was going to use. It was weak but she simply did not care. Another soft hiss brought her to a stop at the foot while her eyes tried to decide which side held more space. As she did she noticed two vials sitting out on his bedside table and furrowed her brows trying to read the label.

Unable to do so from her vantage, she limped herself closer, picking up the vial that already had been taken, "Pain?" She turned her head towards the man still sleeping away. Of course, he would have taken a pain potion. That was probably what he'd been fighting against the entire time he had been watching her.

Her jaw twitched as she looked at the mostly drained vial. There was just a small taste left, nothing that he would notice surely. Another glance to confirm that he was still asleep brought the vial to her lips. She tilted her head all the way back as the very last three drops melted against her tongue.

A sharp cough burst past her lips as her body began to burn. Her mouth opened wide as the sharp acid taste filled her tongue. She would have thrown up had she been able, as it was her body just dry heaved. She supposed that would teach her to take things without his consent. Still, it was done. With a face of disgust, she hobbled her way to the far side of the bed, giving him the side that faced the door and began to climb under the covers.

Hermione let out another small cough as she lowered herself down onto her good side. With his body partially held up her head came to his waist. A small shiver flowed through her as a strong numbness started to make her vision and body sway. Her hand instinctually took hold of his waist, her small fingers resting at his hip, while her face nestled between the pillow and the dip of his waist. A small adjustment of his arm moved it from in front of her face to behind her head but the man did not seem bothered in the slightest.

She was out in seconds.

oOo

Minerva walked with purpose, taking the calm halls of a time just before curfew where everyone had taken to making their way back to their common rooms. She had just been summoned to the hospital wing as two students who had nearly lost their respective arms in a potions accident. A very illegal potions accident, but an accident nonetheless.

The good news was the supposed suppliers of the Devil's Kiss had gotten their just desserts, the problem was the hospital wing was going to be filled with students who had become addicted to the drug's allure. It was a mess and their headmaster was laying in shreds. She hadn't told anyone of course, but Misty had surreptitiously informed Madame Pomphrey where she had gone in the time before the incident.

Now she found herself retracing her previous steps, though much more calmly, towards the high tower. At the very least, she'd reclaim what she'd left behind. She wasn't surprised to feel the wards from all the way at the entrance of the hallway. Strong, powerful wards that she was sure he was more than capable of. Still, she wouldn't have gotten to her place in life if she hadn't had skill of her own.

It took time, but eventually, she'd brought them down far enough to just let her pass. A small sweat had formed on her brow from the effort and she couldn't say she wasn't impressed, "Asphodel."

The gargoyle gave her a look before stepping aside, she returned his look with a glare of her own before taking the stairs. The door to the office was just as strongly warded but having figured out the key to the first set she was able to bring them down with little effort. Stepping into the dark room she turned her eyes up to the portraits of the headmasters that had come before only to find them oddly empty. Every single one.

It left an odd emptiness to the room but she wasn't deterred. A soft spell lit the lamps and her eyes immediately turned down towards the couch half expecting to find a blood stain only to find it completely immaculate. Her heart began to speed up as the thought that he fled came into her mind. If he had, where would he have gone? Who would Voldemort put in his place?

Her eyes turned towards the desk and the small shimmer of the glamour eased some of her worries. If he had truly left it wouldn't have made sense to leave such a weak defense in place. A slow breath calmed her heart and her eyes swept over the obviously cleared desk. She had been sure she'd left the wand on the corner but it was no longer there.

A sharp click of her tongue brought her around the side, the drawers were not warded and thus she pulled open the center one. Her brow ticked when the wand laid there like a simple quill but what was more confounding was the powder blue journal sitting just to the side of another stack of papers.

Powder blue was certainly not his color. With a small glance over her shoulder towards the hidden door leading to his quarters, she pulled the book from the drawer along with the wand, tucking the latter back into her cloak for safe keeping.

Minerva's head tilted as she flipped through the empty pages. She could feel the magic inside but how was she to see what was hidden? Who's journal was it? Why was it in his desk? A small huff flipped it over to the back cover where her eyes snapped to the bottom, "H. G."

Something inside her brain clicked, like heavy stone blocks falling into place. Potter had received a journal. A journal Miss Weasley had nearly gotten expelled bringing to him. Could this...be a copy? The original? Who else would Potter take instructions from than his best friend? Was it all an elaborate trap? A ruse?

She couldn't take it. Though she desperately wanted to. It was too big not to be noticed. How far out of the loop was she?

She closed the book setting it carefully back inside the drawer before shutting it just as carefully. She turned herself towards the chamber door. There was so much laying on the fence. Did she dare to enter the snake's den to find her answers?

Her eyes turned up to the empty portrait of Albus before flicking back to the door. She wasn't scared of him, but rather what killing him would do to the students in the school. A sharp breath left her nose as she took the small stairs leading to the alcove hiding the door. Her wand at the ready.

This was bigger than her and him, this was the entire fate of the wizarding world. Potter needed to live, needed to destroy the Horcruxes. He was the only one who could do it. She needed to ensure his safety. Yes, ensure Potter's safety.

The wards protecting the door fell slowly, one by one, nearly taking a full half an hour to pull away without causing herself any harm. Of the many things he had talent in, wards were certainly one of them. As the last one fell away she felt a heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders. If he wasn't beyond that door, she was going to call a state of emergency with the loyal staff. Yes. That was it.

The door opened silently to a dimly lit room. Not much had been changed at first glance. She had many times taken her evening tea with Albus during her earlier years as a teacher so it was easy for her to compare. Her steps were silent, her eyes looking straight ahead towards the bed that was clearly occupied.

Amazement might have made her steps heavier had it not been her resolve to do what needed to be done. She had fought herself long and hard on which way to go but having found more evidence of his deception, it was hard not to believe he was the cause of so much trouble in and out of the castle.

Her chest rose heavily as she pulled her wand from her sleeve, her eyes looking at his face. His—young—face. She had never seen him sleep, never once seen him so vulnerable. It was almost like a trap in and of itself. That it was an illusion. That the man that slept before her wasn't real.

Her eyes lowered away from his face to his chest, the deep shadows cast by the lamplight making his skin look like a puzzle, broken pieces hastily knitted back together so that he could stand for another day.

A slow breath left Minerva's chest as her wand aligned itself with his heart, no way to miss, "Ava-"

A small cough stuttered her words to a halt, her eyes growing near the size of saucers. That certainly hadn't been him, she was staring straight at him. Her eyes turned to the far side of the bed where a lump was just now coming into view thanks to her eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Her wand moved slowly from over his heart, a silent spell taking hold of the end of the blanket. It came back slowly, and with it, she felt her heart jump into her throat. Her eyes had surely deceived her. There was no way that what she was seeing was on any realm of truth. A girl, definitely a girl, had her arm wrapped around his waist her face hidden away into his side. Her hair was mostly pulled back but a heavy lock of it had come down from over her ear covering what little part of her face wasn't covered by his skin.

Minerva's eyes bounced from the man's still passive face back down to the girl, her free hand came over his rising stomach and with astonished fear over her features she pushed the dark locks away. A small notch in the girl's ear caught the elder's attention but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why it seemed so important. The girl let out another soft cough and turned her head up towards the ceiling affording Minerva with a full profile of her face.

No, it wasn't...it wasn't possible. This girl, she...she looked different, the scar over her eyes, yes, that was it. It couldn't have been. It was an illusion created by the shadows. Minerva felt herself going still as the man she had just pointed her wand at began to move. A soft series of coughs making his arm shift from the girl's back to her hair, calming her near instantly.

It was only as the room went quiet again did she feel the weight of another's eyes on her. A cold fear washed down her spine as she turned her head just enough to stare down the tip of a wand directly into the murderous eyes of a man willing to risk it all.