Hot! His entire back felt alight with flames he could only have imaged came from hell itself. His scream had died in his raw and pulsing throat as soon as he'd realized he had returned to his own body. Lurching back, he reached behind him to feel his back that felt like it was on fire. More than that, he felt as if he had been laying upon coals.

He panted heavily and ripped his frock coat asunder. Buttons flew everywhere as he threw it carelessly to the side. Reaching back again, he felt the same pulsing heat. His panting left him light headed but the pain that was rippling through him kept his mind sharp. He ripped open his button up next, tossing it away as well, he didn't even pause as he pulled the tank top over his head.

The cool air of the sitting room did nothing for the pain. He fell to his forearms gritting his teeth as he tried to ride it out. It was worse than the cruciatus curse. Worse than anything he'd ever felt. It was as if someone had whipped his back with a razor bladed leather whip laced in flesh eating poison. His forehead thunked onto the floor as he continued to breathe through it.

Then, ever so slowly it started to fade and he daringly reached back to touch his skin. His fingers met smooth skin, he reached further. He couldn't feel his finger tips against his back; only the texture of the skin over the heated flesh where he touched. It was smooth and unopened like he thought it to be. It was residual. The residual magic of whatever had attacked them. He took a shuddering breath pulling his hand back down to support himself. His confirmation was a mild comfort.

He stayed as he was until the pain was nothing but a dull throb reminding him that his 'heroic' actions always ended up in his subsequent punishment. His mind startes to clear from the pain induced fog, his eyes closed as he calmed himself down. His heart was pulsing in his throat. Fear rose up as he conaidered the possibility of damage to his vocal cords. He hadn't even raised his voice since he'd healed himself. He hoped that his scream didn't permanently damage anything.

Hermione felt warm. Not uncomfortably so, it was a gentle warmth. The feeling you got when you were wrapped up in a soft blanket on a cool winter's day; peacefully enjoying the warmth of a fire with a cup of hot chocolate. It was comforting. It was safe. Slowly, sound came to her white world. It was rough and grating against her consciousness. She could hear someone breathing harshly, very near to her. She couldn't feel her body, not fully and though she was aware of her limbs, her actual nerve endings seemed to still be numb. As if she was waking from a deep sleep.

She tried to test her movement; her focus starting to wane as the darkness around her beckoned her to return to it's depths. She didn't want to go, she didn't want to return back to the darkness. A panic started to well in her chest and she tried to move her fingers.

She could feel something soft, against the pads of her finger tips. It took some effort but she tried to take hold of whatever it was. Unfortunately, whatever it was disappeared, leaving her with nothing to focus on. The whiteness that surrounded her started to haze around the edges. She was in the void between the waking world and the world she had known for endless days.

Snape's mind turned over what he'd just experienced. Deep in thought as he kept his breathing slow and steady. It was during his inner cataloging that he felt the lightest of touches against his head. He paused, holding his breath before his eyes slowly opened. The feeling returned more firmly this time, wrapping lightly around the hair at his temples. He turned his head, jerking back just a bit. Fingers. He saw fingers. They moved once more twitching with the effort. His eyes trailed up the arm of their owner.

"Miss Granger...?" His voice was barely that of a whisper and hurt immensely from his efforts. He gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up onto his knees. His back screamed as he shifted, though he managed to push it aside for the moment.

"Miss..." He tried again, swallowing dryly. He braced his forearm against the wing back chair holding himself up as he reached out to touch her shoulder.

Her hand had fallen from the edge of the lounge and rested lightly on the floor where he had been hunched over. Her face twitched to his voice. Her fingers flexing again. He tried to look at the temperal reader but found the stones to be clear and dark, a large crack right down the center. No way to know if she was in pain, or fighting for her life inside her own mind.

He hissed slightly as he shifted from the wing back chair to the lounge. His forearm resting against her side as he held himself up. He took another deep breath and tried again. "Miss...Granger...can...can you hear me...?" Each word was harder than the last, his throat growing tight. Her eyes twitched under her lids. He watched her fingers, hoping that he'd not led her to her final end.

Come on...he thought desperately. His hand slipping from the chair reaching down to hold her hand. He didn't know why he did it. He just felt compelled with a deep seated need to do so. His larger hand held hers gingerly, her fingers running over the edge of his palm. What had he done? What had that door led to? He closed his eyes and hung his head keeping his self-loathing centered around the pain that pulsed across his back.

Warm, her hand felt warm. The pressure of fingers brushing the back. She clung to it in her mind. Just beyond the void, she had to get just beyond. She focused on the feeling of their fingers and willed her own hand to move. Someone was speaking but she couldn't tell what they were saying; it was soft and muddled. Like she was trying to listen from underwater. The world around her started to shift to a soft black as she struggled internally. Her hand moved, she didn't move it, someone else was actually next to her. She tried to reach out to them, scream, flail, anything to get their attention.

Severus pressed his forehead against the lounge, his hair falling over her arm as he kept himself tightly controlled-then, he felt it. His eyes snapped open looking down at their hands. Hermione's was holding his gently. The pressure firm and unmistakably a grasp. It wasn't a twitch, it wasn't a residual nerve flare. She was holding his hand. His head turned back to look at her face.

He held his breath. He didn't know why he felt so invested, why he even cared so much. Perhaps it was that he held himself to a personal perfection. An urge to excel no matter what the task. He shuttered his mind off, not wanting to think too much at that moment. Too much outside influence, the time in her mind had loosened his hold on everything he was known for.

Hermione slowly forced her mind to focus on what she could feel. It felt different from the inside of her mind or even her memories. They of course had felt real in those moments but there was something off about them, something that wasn't quite complete. Now, everything felt dreadfully loud, and sensitive. The hand that held hers was rough, and dry. She relaxed her grip slightly, in order to feel it's structure. It was much larger than hers by far.

Feeling returned to her face and as she moved her eyes about inside the white void between realms, she could feel them against her eye lids. It was an odd sensation. For so long, she had not felt so much as a stray hair tickle her face. Her Eyes! She wanted to see! With all the energy she had left, she pushed them open, only to be greeted with a new sort of darkness.

Severus watched those white sightless eyes open ever so slowly. He leaned over her, unable to stop himself. He held his breath slightly and waited for her to notice that he was there. Anything to tell him that she was in fact there with him, he summoned what was left of his courage and called out her name once more.

"Miss Granger..." A cold hand gripped his heart as he watched her face contort in despair. A soft hiccup of a suppressed sob meeting his ears. Large tears were starting to fall, pittering softly against the lounge beneath her head. The hand that had held his went limp in his grasp as the girl beside him closed her eyes once more.

No. He wouldn't let her fall back inside her self. He hissed from the effort and pushed himself up despite the burning rage of protest from his back. He pushed her none to gently, from her stomach and onto her back, causing her to whimper again before cupping her face in his hands.

"Miss Granger, you're here, you're safe..." He spoke urgently, lightly shaking her head, desperately trying to reach her. Her hands weakly rose as if to push him away but they didn't reach their target, falling back onto the lounge as another heart wrenching sob left her throat.

His grip on her face tightened marginally as her mouth opened though no logical sound came out as another sob shook her. She opened her eyes again, searching trying to see what she knew to be there. They finally settled just off to the side of Severus' face and she took a deep shaking breath.

"A...a..." She tried to speak, her own voice felt foreign to her ears, the sounds that came out were jumbled, like she'd forgotten how to speak. Her voice was diluted, deep, too loud and too rough. "ka...kan..." Severus thumbed away a tear that threatened to fall into her parted lips, "ee..." She gave up as she succumbed fully to her emotional outpouring.

Severus pursed his lips as he tried to think of just what to do. He was never one to console a crying woman, much less someone in her state. He had of course consoled others during his lifetime, but it always backfired against him some way. His cold way of looking at the world was not widely received by those in states of emotional upheavals.

Her face was starting to go red from lack of oxygen, from her inability to breathe through her tears. Her body barely able to function as it was. Severus gritted his teeth and gently shook her head again, her eyes swiveled around before landing squarely on his face. She could feel his breath against her face, assaulting her nose. It didn't smell bad, or good, it just smelt, real.

"Breathe..." He said deeply, his voice crackling from the strain. He blew softly into her parted lips causing her to gasp and hiccup. He did it again, and once more until she was able to breathe more consistently on her own. Her breaths still shuddered through her frame, but they were at least deep enough to keep her conscious.

"You're safe..." He repeated with forced effort, it sounded more like a growl than actual words and he had to swallow through the pain taking his own breath.

Her sobs slowly calmed to gentle sniffles, too weak to have a full blown cry; though tears still slowly fell as he started to pull his hands from her face. Hermione whimpered as the warmth left her and shifted her head to the side. She was actually looking for him but from his perspective, she was looking away from him.

She didn't know where she was, but it didn't feel like a hospital. Rather, it didn't smell like a hospital. It smelled of ... burnt wood, worn leather, with soft undertones of sandalwood and lavender. The nerve endings in her body were slowly coming to life and she was able to feel the soft cloth of her clothing against her skin. The weight of a blanket that was now twisted about her middle from being turned, felt warm and soft. She realized that her clothing was rather small the feeling of air moving over her legs as the person beside her shift. She heard him hiss and felt him push against whatever she was laying on. She assumed he had stood up. She knew it was a he, from the size of their hand.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, could...it have been the professor? He had been there inside her mind with her, in what felt like just moments ago. She sniffled softly and arched her back slightly her control over her limbs akin to an infant. Her arm slipped from what she was laying on and the muscle contracted tightly causing her to hiss between sniffles. She felt like a new born calf. Uncoordinated and weak. She turned her head to the other side heavily bringing her other hand up towards her face.

Severus had turned his back on her. Leaning onto the arms of his favorite chair bracing himself on his feet. He could hear her shifting about but didn't have the strength to turn and watch. She was-awake, she was alive. The thoughts had yet to settle into his mind. The pain had returned to his back and he knew he'd be absolutely useless unless he did something. He leaned down, carefully picking up whatever article of clothing was in reach, luckily for him it was his button up. The buttons were scattered over the wood floor at this point but at least it would provide him with some protection.

He didn't want to look at her, he couldn't bring himself to. The full effects of his choice were still eluding his logical mind. This was the real world, he told himself; a world where he was in complete control. His boot shuffled forward a bit, kicking his wand, it rolled about a meter in front of him and he looked at it as if willing it to catch fire before him. All he had worked towards, for his new life, his 'free' life, all in vain.

He flicked his hand silently casting an accio calling his wand to him. He tucked it into his pocket, his fingers curling around his torn shirt as he dared one last look. She looked so sad. He wasn't expecting leaping bounds of gratitude for his efforts but he hadn't been prepared for the complete look of defeat upon her face.

He couldn't help but sneer slightly, it was a defense mechanism against feeling compassion for others that had saved him from uncomfortable situations in the past. It was completely by default. He hadn't even known he'd done it until his face twitched. He took a breath and turned his head away, he'd done his job...he said to himself. He'd brought her back to the real world.

He limped slightly as he started towards the kitchen. He didn't want to feel, what was building inside of him. It scared him more than his brush with death. The very idea of caring about another person in this life. The idea that their pain would cause him pain. He shook his head as he pushed through the kitchen doorway. No, he wouldn't feel it. Never again.

Hermione could hear his heavy steps retreating from her and arched her back again, whimpering softly. She didn't know who was there, her eyes opened of their own accord searching through the hazy white. There were only slight shapes that moved around as she moved her eyes. Nothing clear enough to identify. Why was she blind? Why was she still suffering? The door they had gone through, brought her into this new world. Was it even real? Was anything about her life real anymore? She turned her head again pressing her face into the arm of what she could now assume was a sort of chair. She felt-so weak. Even turning her head took so much effort. Her hands felt as if they were made of lead and her legs immovable trunks of wood.

It was new but a fear built inside her. The idea that this was just another circle of her never ending hell. That she'd never be free again. She shut her eyes tight. She was tired, her body still trembling softly from her emotional unloading but she couldn't bring herself to rest. It was too dangerous. She didn't want to go back there. Not back there, to the rows of shelves of empty books and long lost memories.

She couldn't even think back beyond her awakening. She couldn't even recall her own name. She could only 'feel' abstract information about what was around her. She had the ability to think and as it would seem, retain information. Though she couldn't recall older information. It worried her, she knew she should feel worried about it but she couldn't think of why she should. She needed answers desperately but didn't know what questions to ask. So there she laid, staring unseeing into the arm of the chair. Her fingers slowly moving the hem of her shirt. Her nails felt dreadfully long, it was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling she was choosing at that moment to focus on.

Severus opened his china hutch pulling down a salve that was meant for her. He didn't know if it would work but he hoped it would help ease his pain until he was able to brew something he knew would. He thumped it down on the table and opened the lid letting it fall to the side. Scooping up a fair amount, he attempted to turn. He managed to reach the bottom half of the residual burn and started to rub in small circles. He cursed slightly under his breath, it hurt but it was working.

His mind ticked and he paused in his application. He flicked his hand behind him summoning Minerva's parchment from the drawer. He didn't think he was going to be able to finish his duties and care for himself at the same time. He also knew that if she knew Hermione to be awake, she would most likely take her away for more proper care. He growled turning back to the table, grabbing a stray pen, he scratched into the parchment.

She's awake.

He watched the ink disappear no doubt to reappear on it's twin. He pushed the pen away and turned his attentions back to himself, he couldn't reach all of his back he knew but he was going to do his best.

oOo

Minerva was just rising for the morning. She had always been early to riser but something about this morning had woken her before her alarm. She picked up her wand waving a lazy tempus charm. The lights glowed a soft green reading 4:30am. She yawned loudly and pursed her lips, she was awake over an hour early. She shifted making to lay back down when a soft glow on the parchment beside her bed caught her attention. She pushed herself up pulling it to her. Opening it hurriedly, her heart skipped a beat when she read the messily scribbled words.

"He's done it..." She whispered to herself, a slow smile crawling over her face. She pushed herself up filled with a happiness that she hadn't felt in quite some time. She dressed quickly; ready in only 15 minutes. She strut out of the bed chambers. All the portraits in the office were still dead asleep but one blue eyed headmaster did crack open an eye at her departure. A soft smile coming to his face as he rest back into his frame.

oOo

Severus was leaning over the kitchen table, reaching behind him still as he tried to place the last of the salve on his back. It was in the perfect center and he was no acrobat. He grunted and lowered his hand down, turning his head as he heard his back door open. His brows rose slightly, that was fast, he mused to himself.

He couldn't contain his smirk when Minerva turned her sights onto him and gasped at his state of undress. In all the years that they had worked together, she had never seen more than his forearms and the occasional patch of skin through shredded clothing from time to time during his treatments that sent him to the hospital wing. He tilted his head raising a brow. He couldn't hide his amusement as she sputtered and turned her head away.

"There had better be a reasonable explication." She huffed swallowing down her embarrassment. She hadn't missed the numerous scars that crossed over his chest. Nor the fact that he appeared completely hairless. How could a man his age be hairless? His skin was even paler than she could have imagined, his ribs looked like they had been flayed open at some point, the scars faded red and raised. Various burn patches around his upper chest and shoulders, no doubt from student potions gone array. He had a slim waist, much smaller than she would have thought given the boxy look to his attire. Though she suspected that was intentional.

"Indeed." The pain was still in his voice and he tried to clear his throat. He turned away from the blushing witch to put the salve back into the hutch having given up on getting that last little patch.

"Severus!" Minerva jolted him when she turned back, her curiosity peaked when she heard the pain in his usual timber. She moved quickly to his side looking at the large slash like mark that ran from the top of his left shoulder down to his right hip.

"What on earth happened?" She was so close that if he were to turn and face her he'd likely knock her back. So he stayed as he was his hands tightening around the jar.

"There was...a bit of a defense in place." He grumbled, his injured voice popping slightly. Downplaying what he'd found inside her mind was his best strategy to seeing that she was taken from his care. He knew that he'd not cured what laid in the darkness, perhaps only delayed it's powerful reach. He tried to conjure the image of the creature to no avail. He hissed slightly, his skin crawling when she touched the mark on his back, all his muscles jumping.

"What are you doing woman?" He growled turning to look at her over his shoulder.

"Shut it." She huffed grabbing the salve from him. It was a small struggle to which he quickly conceded. She took the salve and pushed his head to look away. He grunted from her mistreatment but said nothing as she put a bit of salve on the last patch of his back. His shoulders slumped as the pain started to wash away. Minerva spelled the remaining salve from her hands and thrust his ripped shirt into his hands. "Cantankerous man."

"Insufferable woman." He grumbled as she turned away and toward the sitting room. He was finally able to pull on his shirt without a sparking pain and sighed softly as he tucked it into his pants. It would help keep him covered for the time being. Though it would reveal some of his chest at least he'd have a moderate amount of decency.

Minerva saw Hermione on the lounge immediately. She noted the discarded layers of torn clothing as well. She stepped carefully towards her. She could see that the girl's eyes were open, but her head was turned away from her. Though as her heel clicked heavily onto the floor she watched Hermione turn her head slowly. Minerva's mouth opened as she suppressed a gasp, her hand coming up to cover her gaping mouth.

Severus brushed past her in that moment, having returned to collect his clothing. He paused for a moment as he picked up his frock coat frowning at it's state of disrepair. He tossed the useless jacket into his chair and turned towards Minerva.

Hermione could hear footsteps, an odd sound if she really thought about it. She turned her head slowly her eyes turning up and down trying to locate her new companion. As another set of foot falls joined the first she became more curious. She arched her chest a bit as it was the best way for her to shift her head. Her eyes moved between where she believed them to be.

"Miss Granger..." Minerva spoke softly, slowly coming closer. She watched the girl flinch and slowed to a stop.

Hermione knew that the new comer was a woman, her voice felt so familiar. It's clipped tone and accent ruffling something in her otherwise empty brain. She flinched when she called out what she assumed to be her name. She didn't know why she felt so cold towards this woman but she didn't want her to come any closer. She made a soft noise in the back of her throat and turned her head away.

"Severus..." Minerva turned towards the seemingly disinterested man, "What on earth has happened?"

His jaw ticked a bit before he straightened himself up, "I have done what you asked me to do." He said keeping his face passive and his eyes dark and cold. I have endangered someone under my protection, once again. His inner voice was louder than ever before, the words that came from his mouth did not match the voice bustling inside. He didn't want to be responsible for her life any longer. Almost losing her inside her mind had hit something hard inside his soul. Something he promised to never do again.

Minerva watched her junior struggle to hide away a deeply engraved fear and felt her heart break for the man. She hadn't known all the reasons for why he did what he did but she had learned very quickly that there was always a reason.

"Severus this isn't about Lilly Potter anymore," She paused watching him twitch as if she'd slapped him, " This is about you rising to the occasion and shedding your coat of sins." She had his attention now, "You are a remarkable man. Why won't you let others see who you truly are?" Minerva pleaded her voice heavy with emotion.

"That was not what was agreed. " That is not who I am. He said stiffly, turning his eyes to look at anything but her. His face showed anger and disgust but his eyes-they showed something deeper.

"Severus! I won't let you fall into that pit of despair and hatred you carry with you." She took hold of his scowled face turning it to look at her, "You have saved, so many," she shook his head slightly hoping to garner his strict attention, "So many, it's high time you allowed someone to save you."

Save him? He looked down at Minerva his hands coming up to pull her away from his face. He didn't want nor need to be saved. He was quite content in his misery. It was comfortable-liar, it was safe-liar, it was all he had known-coward. The very idea of having something more felt, selfish and dangerous.

"I just want to be left in peace." I don't want anyone else to be harmed in my presence. His inner voice translated. He growled baring his teeth like a cornered wolf.

"Oh Severus, this isn't peace." His grip had tightened around her wrists but she refused to pull away or be frightened, "This is self isolation..."

He growled at her, his lips thinning in a hard line. "It's what I want." Was it? His tone held no uncertainty. His inner voice chortled. How had this conversation turned from the care of the girl beside them to his personal vendetta against the world?

"Severus," she whispered his name with such sadness,"Have you become so enslaved by you fears that you can't even imagine something more is waiting for you?"

His face tightened considerably and his grip threatened to break her aging wrists. "I had freedom." I had a comfortable prison. He punctuated each word, a heavy pulse of pain running through the scar on his neck as he stared directly into her eyes, "You are the one standing between it and I."Take the girl and leave! He shouted internally.

"No Severus, you've disillusioned yourself." She met his stare with one of her own. "As long as you carry your past upon your back, you will never," she shook her arms in his grasp to accentuate her point, "be truly free."

He was seething inside, so many emotions were running through him at that moment but he refused to have his actions be dictated by such fleeting-useless, unnecessary feelings. When had his inner voice become so loud and so pushy? To talk over his own spoken words? To interrupt his thoughts?

Hermione had listened intently to the entire exchange, though she hadn't actually heard the words Severus spoke, rather she had felt the words he didn't speak. She felt a painful anger rising in her own chest. She hadn't known where it had come from; only that it felt suffocating. She made a small noise in the back of her throat; her hand falling from the lounge reaching towards the voices nearby. Her fingers reached out through the air, searching; so fragile, so desperate. She arched again trying to reach farther.

Severus' corner eye caught the movement and it momentarily caused him to pause in the breaking of Minerva's wrists. He swallowed thickly as those fragile fingers reached towards him. As if begging for him. For his touch. He watched as she tried to reach them; the fabric of his pants lightly caught in one of her nails. His brow furrowed, what on earth was the silly girl up to?

Minerva turned her attentions to the girl as well. She was reaching for him, though she'd flinched away from her. She watched Severus' face shift through deep seated emotions. Slowly, she pulled a bruised wrist from his grasp while pulling down his other. She made his hand brush against Hermione's. She felt his fingers flinch from the contact and tighten as he tried to pull his hand away. However, despite her age, she was stronger than she appeared. It didn't help that the man was running on empty. It had been two days since she had last seen him. Having given him the privacy he had craved. She suspected that he didn't even know how much time had passed.

Hermione gasped when she felt skin beneath her fingertips. It felt familiar, like it was part of who she was. She reached out even more as the closed hand came into reach she wrapped her trembling fingers around it.

"She needs you Severus." Minerva whispered keeping their hands joined, "You managed to do something, that five years of professional healers couldn't have done in their wildest imaginations." Her voice was soft and coaxing. She wiggled her wrist free as his hold started to loosen. Hermione's fingers took hold of his index finger clutching onto it tightly. Her white sightless eyes staring somewhere between them. Her brow furrowed somewhere between pain and anguish.

Severus flexed his index finger slightly feeling her trembling hand take a tighter hold. The muscles were too weak to hold him in place. He could have freed himself at any given time. Something though, something stopped him and he carefully wrapped his other fingers around her own allowing her to keep hold of him. He felt it too, like a small thread of communication between them. Something had happened when he jumped in front of her. Something powerful. He swallowed slowly turning his heated eyes towards Minerva's knowing gaze.

"You need rest." She said softly taking his chest in her hands pushing him closer to the lounge. "I don't know if you know this." She said as she silently summoned the chair into place before gently pushing him down into it. He seemed to be in a trance and she was not above using it to her advantage. "It's been two days since I came here." She watched his brows raise as he tried to comprehend her words. His brain felt fuzzy again, like it wasn't just his own anymore. The edges of his normally sharp wit were dulled and he was finding for once in his life, he didn't mind.

His body all but melted into the chair his eyes growing heavy. Minerva wordlessly summoned a blanket from the upstairs taking it into her hands as she watched him fall into a deep much needed rest. She laid the blanket over him mindful of the hands that joined between the chairs.

Hermione felt the movement of the man she clung to but she refused to release him. It was real, it was what she remembered, it was all she could remember. All she could focus on since the time he appeared before her, a broken soul inside of her personal hell. She had heard Minerva clearly, her heart thumping with the new information. 5 years? She had been stuck inside her prison for 5 years? It hardly felt possible, the only memory she had was the day of her injury. It reset her internal clock every time she viewed it. Had she really lost all that time?

Her mind drifted to the others inside the memory. Her friends, she had felt their connection was strong, but she couldn't recall any other memories with them. What had caused them to grow so close that they would risk their lives for each other that way? Where were they now? She paused, flexing her hand. Did they make it out alive? Were they dead because of her? Tears started to well in the corner of her eyes garnering the attention of her mentor.

"Shh...Hermione..." The voice came from the other side of the lounge making her jerk her head. "It will all be explained in time." Hermione felt a hand in her hair and squinted pulling away just a bit. Screaming inside her mind: Don't touch me!

The woman took the hint, her hand disappearing from her brow. Hermione kept herself shifted away from her. Gently, she started to feel the blanket that was tangled around her get pulled away. She made a soft noise in the back of her throat. It sounded no more than a whimper, akin to an injured animal.

"It's alright." The voice came again, "I'm just going to lay this back over you." She did as she said and Hermione felt the warmth enveloping her again. She wanted to rest, but refused to allow herself to fall asleep. She couldn't risk it. It was too dangerous. No, she had to remain alert and awake.

Minerva watched the girl twitch beneath her kindness. Her face held a look she had seen in only one other. It was a look of deep focus and unwavering drive. She glanced to Severus; his face currently completely relaxed in sleep. His hand resting over the edge was lax in Hermione's grip. He was out cold and from the looks of their ordeal it would be a while.

Minerva ran a silent diagnostic charm over Hermione, it was meant to be painless but the girl felt it instantly wash over her and grunted her disapproval. Minerva paused but didn't disable the charm. The sigils and runes that appeared made her sigh in relief. Other than her apparent memory loss and her odd behavior and dehydration she was otherwise in perfect health. She canceled the charm.

"I suspect you may feel a bit peckish?" Minerva's voice was gentle as she offered an olive branch.

Hermione's lips pursed tightly together, her eyes shifting trying to locate the voice with her eyes. How long had it been since she actually felt hungry. She couldn't even recall. What was she supposed to eat? What foods did she even like? She did feel weak but the feeling of hunger wasn't something she was currently aware of. She rationalized, that it wouldn't hurt to eat something. She did feel dreadfully tired, perhaps a bit of food would perk her up. She slowly nodded her head, not trusting her voice to make proper words.

Minerva smiled softly and dismissed herself quietly. Her little speech with Severus might have felt spontaneous but she knew the words needed to be said, she wasn't going to let him back out now. Hermione needed his skills, and he needed her heart.