ONE
I can't believe it happened again! thought a frightened Hermione as she arrived breathless at the Gryffindor common room, her heart pounding. This… feeling… towards him… it’s just not normal. It had first happened when she was a third year, and now it had happened again, this time when she was Head Girl in her seventh year. Hermione let herself into the quiet common room and crept up to her bed, memories flooding to the front of her brain.
She was a third year in the Shrieking Shack. Harry had just disarmed him. She had felt fine. They’d had to do it. They’d had to hear the rest of the story from Sirius and Lupin. The feeling that terrified her hadn't started until they had been on their way out of the tunnel. Sirius had been guiding an unconscious Snape down the tunnel, bumping his head on the ceiling. Hermione hadn't been able to take her eyes off his lolling head, scraping across the jagged rocks. That was when she had felt it.
But, it hadn't been until tonight, four years later, that she had realized exactly what she felt, both then and now. It was pity. She felt sorry for the greasy git. She couldn't believe it. She had never seen him as anything but the professor she loathed, but tonight was different. Tonight, she saw him as a man.
How was this possible after what he had done to Professor Dumbledore? Hermione didn't know the details of that night on the Astronomy tower, and neither did the rest of the student body, but Professor Snape had returned the next term like nothing had happened. Hermione suspected there was more to the story because none of the staff seemed to question his loyalties. Harry had raged after Snape returned. He had been furious that Snape was allowed to teach, and he had sworn revenge; his hatred for Snape had surged to a new height. And now, here she was, feeling sorry for her best friend's enemy. But after tonight, how could she not?
As a result of the raging war and increased threats, the Hogwarts staff was stretched thin. Therefore, the Head Girl and Boy had taken to assisting the professors with their nightly rounds in an attempt to relieve the professors of the burden of enforcing simple school rules. Hermione had been assigned to the dungeons. Without Professor Dumbledore, and with Professor Snape gone for large periods of time, apparently spying on Voldemort- although Harry had his doubts about Snape’s true whereabouts- patrolling the whole castle became difficult.
Hermione had started her final rounds for the night at ten. The few torches in the dungeons had cast eerie shadows across the moss-covered walls. She had shivered from the cold as she had walked down the narrow corridor. She had circled through the dungeons once and had been on her second pass when she’d seen him. At first, she’d thought it had been the light playing tricks on her, but as she had neared, it had become clear that the large dark shadow had not been a projection from a dark corner, but Professor Snape.
His back had been turned to her, but he had spun around when he had heard her footsteps echo on the stone floor. As she had neared him, Hermione had seen that his face was red with blood. It had looked like someone had used the Sectumsempra curse on him, and that he had just recently stopped the bleeding. His cheeks had had large, deep gashes cut into them, and traces of bright red blood had been visible deep inside the gouges. His nose and chin had been caked in dried blood, and he had appeared utterly exhausted. Blood and sweat had drenched his black hair, causing it to cling to the sides of his forehead.
Hermione had been shocked at his mangled appearance. This had been the last situation she had expected to find herself in tonight. Her first instinct had been to run. The shock of his appearance had activated her flight response. Although she was supposed to hate him, and she was not supposed to care if he suffered, she couldn’t have left him there; he was a member of the Order.
"Professor?" she’d asked tentatively as she approached him. "A…are you okay?"
Snape had stared at her, silently. He’d appeared stunned and bewildered to see her.
"Do you need anything?" Hermione had asked cautiously.
Snape had seemed to have come to his senses. "What I need is for you to, just once, stop being the annoying Gryffindor do-gooder and return to your common room," he had said in a strained voice.
He had then turned his back to Hermione, appearing to stare at the wall of the dungeon. Hermione had taken a tentative step forward and had noticed him prodding, with his wand, a stone carving of an Ashwinder embedded in the wall. There had been large chunks of wood missing from his wand, and the tip had appeared to be snapped off. Hermione saw the wand’s core protruding from the destroyed sections. She couldn't have imagined what had happened to it.
Whatever had happened, the wand had apparently not been working because nothing happened as Snape poked at the snake. Hermione had guessed that the carving was the entrance to his personal chambers, because they had been almost directly across from the Potions classroom. "Professor, let me help you with that," Hermione had said.
Snape had turned and glared at her. Hermione had taken her own wand and had pressed the faded red eggs that lay in the middle of the coiled Ashwinder. The eggs had sunk back into the stone, revealing the hinges of a door. Hermione had pressed on the thick stone door. It had swung inward, revealing the passage into his chambers.
"You've done quite enough, Miss Granger. Now please, just leave."
Snape had looked down at Hermione, and for the first time she had realized how close they were standing to one another. She had looked up into his normally cold, empty black eyes and noticed something different. However slight the difference, his eyes had shown a hint of pain; almost as if he had been pleading with her to just leave.
"Professor, are you sure you don't need any-"
"Miss Granger, just go away," Snape had interrupted.
Hermione had jumped at his rebuke; she had not wanted to push him any further. Obviously, his night had been rough. She had brushed past Snape and had continued back to the Gryffindor tower. She had paused at the end of the dungeon and had looked back just in time to see him disappearing into his room.
The whole way back to her dorm, Hermione had not been able to get the look he had given her out of her head. His eyes had had emotion in them. Snape was in pain, yet he would not accept help. This had eluded Hermione, especially since she had been fully inducted into the Order. Why wouldn't he let her help him?
By the time she had arrived back at her common room, she had become breathless from the intensity of the situation. Hermione had let herself through the portrait hole and had climbed the stairs up to her dormitory. Once in her four-poster, she lay awake staring up as the ceiling, remembering the night’s events, which had caused her to feel unnerved. She lay awake for hours thinking about what had just happened and why she was feeling sorry for a sworn enemy. Her body ached with anger, but it was more of an anger directed toward herself, because she felt sorry for her best friend's worst enemy, than an anger toward Snape. Why do I care? she thought. She couldn’t answer that question, but there was one thing she swore to herself; she would get to the bottom of what was going on with Snape.
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Now what? thought Snape as he heard footsteps echoing on the stone floor. He turned to see Granger, the Gryffindor know-it-all who was now Head Girl. God, he wished she would just disappear. Shit, my face, he thought. Well, too late to do anything about it now, she’s already seen me. Maybe if I just ignore her, or at least scare her, she will continue on her way.
Hermione approached Snape. At first he thought she was going to run away from him, but instead she walked up to him and asked if he was all right. Snape didn't know what to do, so he stood there in a daze. Her next words snapped him out of his reverie.
"Do you need anything?" she asked.
He looked at her. Of course he needed something. He needed dittany to hopefully stop some of the inevitable scarring. He needed the pain to stop, he needed sleep, and some part of him needed his friend, Dumbledore, back to talk to and to support him. No! he told himself, he didn't need anything. It was just the stress of the Death Eater meeting and the curse that cause him to feel this way. I don’t need anything or anyone, he reassured himself as he fought his subconscious. He told Granger to leave him alone.
She wouldn't leave. Even when he turned his back and tried to get into his room, she stood there. He cursed his broken wand, and his ill-fated attempt to fly in his state. He cursed Macnair for using his own spell against him, and he cursed himself for not blocking the spell. But, he knew what the Dark Lord wanted to see during the Death Eater's duelling sessions. He wanted blood and perhaps even favoured the one who gave it to him. Although the incident might give him favour with the Dark Lord, it had now put him in a rather awkward situation with Gryffindor’s resident know-it-all. Now, here he was, unable to enter his room or escape the irritating Head Girl.
She stepped forward and opened the door for him. Please let that be all she does, he thought. He turned, told her she had done enough, and gave her the most menacing stare he could muster. It didn't work. As she returned the stare, Snape noticed her expression soften slightly. Damn, he thought, I must look as bad as I feel. Please just let her leave.
Hermione did leave, and a relieved Snape entered his room, but not before stealing a glance at the Head Girl, turning the corner leading out of the dungeons.
The Dark Encounter by Justice180482
Chapter Notes: Special thanks to my beta u-no-poo & Stephanie (aka VIVAvivacious). All reviews, comments, criticisms are greatly appreciated!