((Oh, Yes. Bring on the kink.))

---

Body tense and eyes squeezed shut, Hermione concentrated exclusively on enduring the little discomforting pricks she felt every time a piece of glass was removed. In her mind, it had been going consistently fine until she suddenly heard him apologize for something. At that moment, she opened her eyes and it was revealed to her that she had been doffed of her tattered skirt and only her pink-laced undies remained completely exposed.

Out of shock and embarassment, her lungs absorbed a mass of air in a squeaky, sharp gasp. Not knowing how to react to such an inconceivable situation, she immediately whirled around and defensively attempted to cover her bottom undergarments with her hands. When she dared look up at him, she noticed that he seemed to be a little uneasy himself. Her face lit up a bright red, and it was then that she truly began regretting her decision.

"Um... Right... I-I'll go do that..." She slurred, eyes darting frantically away from his as she tried to hide her crimson face behind her bushy locks. Quicker than normal, she dashed straight passed the man, over to her books that she had previously left on the front desk. Just as she picked them up and was about to race out of the classroom, however, she remembered that she was still under-dressed. Considering the means taken to achieve that, she had no spare attire prepared. Who would?

After the whole ordeal, she really did not want to re-address her teacher (ever again, realistically), but unfortunately had no choice in the matter. "Um... may I... borrow something just to cover up? I will return it tomorrow." She couldn't even face him to ask. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor; her books were now covering her exposed area instead of her hands, and the burning cheeks had not yet recovered.

Severus blinked at Miss Granger's pink underpants, in an instant taking in the fine lace pattern of the garment as well as the shape of her lower body. It was an odd situation: he was used to dealing with other people's bodies, as any Death Eater would be—living, dead, partially between the two states, injured, cursed, jinxed... But suddenly this was a student body, a female student's body, and his two worlds, Hogwarts and the Dark Lord, had just violently collided in his head, leaving him disoriented, and a bit—well, a bit embarrassed.

He didn't let that show, though. "Yes, of course," he replied to her request, noticing her bright red cheeks. Easy to say, but what could he give her? The only item of clothing he wore was his robes—as a wizard of the older generation, not accustomed to donning Muggle clothes except in extreme cases, the traditional robe he wore was the only thing covering him.

But he had a spare, he remembered, in the storage closet. "Accio robe!" he commanded, too out of sorts to manage it non-verbally. Obediantly, a slightly tattered and worn robe sailed out of the closet and into his hands. He silently handed it to Miss Granger.

"Thank you." Hermione muttered, accepting the spare garment without hesitation, before hastily enrobing herself in the long gown. Her body drowned in its colossal size and it was a bit dusty from having been sitting in the closet for some time, but at that moment it was her most cherished lifesaver.

Once that was settled, Hermione sought to make her immediate escape. "See you tomorrow... Professor." were her final words before pivoting on her feet and darting out of the classroom. After shutting the door tight, she took a brief moment against the cool, stone wall right outside the room to collect herself and take consecutive deep breaths.

It was an evening she suspected would remain embedded in her mind forever. Disturbing her, forever. Never did she predict, throughout her entire life, that such an event would occur. It was so incredibly awkward, she didn't even know how to react to it. Should she drop out of his class? The school? How would she explain the robe and lack of certain attire to her friends? She felt sick just thinking about it as she creeped the most secluded hallways on her way to the infirmiry. Once again, Fate decided to strike her with the curse of misfortune.

---

((Edit: Blah, THANK YOU. My mind goes to mush when it's late.))

((I thought Hermione was headed to Madam Pomfrey??)) PHEW.))

----

Severus turned back to the storage cupboard with a groan. It was an absolute mess. Dragon bile, glass, blood, bits of clothing were everywhere. Foolish girl. And he hadn't even been able to finish telling her off about the essay length. He made a mental note to tell her tomorrow. A grim smile crossed his face at that. Detention every night until curfew—he might actually enjoy it. He had a lot to tell Hogwart's smartest student, about the differences between simply being smart and knowing everything from the books, compared with the kind of intelligence which constantly seeks to learn more.

It only took a few spells to clean up the glass and blood, but the dragon bile refused to respond, and eventually Severus had to ask a house-elf to come and clean it up.

"Dobby is here to help, Professor Snape sir!" squeaked the elf when he arrived.

Merlin's beard, it was Dobby.

"Goodness gracious, Professor Snape sir, what happened?" Dobby asked, when he saw the mess.

"A student fell into the shelf and spilled the dragon bile, Dobby," Severus responded shortly, not wanting to explain. "The bile won't respond to my magic, and I don't want to touch it."

"Dobby can fix it for you, Professor Snape sir!" the elf cried happily. "But if Dobby can know, why was a student in Professor Snape's classroom?"

"She had been assigned detention."

"Oooh," breathed Dobby. "Dobby knows, all students have detention. Dobby thinks every student in the school has had detention at least once, except for Miss Hermione! Miss Hermione is such a nice girl, she makes hats for us elves and keeps trying to convince Winky to enjoy being free."

"Miss Hermione," Severus replied caustically, "is the one who fell into the shelf. Kindly clean the mess quietly, Dobby, and then leave. I have essays to mark."

The elf fortunately obeyed, and Severus was left the stack of essays. With a sigh, he bundled them up, thinking it would be much nicer to grade them back in his rooms, with a warm fire, away from the elf's chatter. Just as he was about to step into the Floo and take the shortcut back, he remembered that Miss Granger's essay would have fallen on the floor in the... incident, as he was beginning to think of it. Had the elf cleaned it up already? Accio Hermione Granger's summer essay, he thought, and to his great relief the double-thick scroll flew into his arms.

Gratefully, Severus escaped to his rooms, where he poured himself a large glass of wine, ordered a dinner from the house-elves, and gave failing grades to more than half the essays.

----------

((I figured, actually, that Dobby might go and gossip to Harry, so in case Hermione *didn't* tell her friends, there'd be an outside source. But whatever you decide, that little plot point is there for you to mess with. :D ))

((Thank you, you are brilliant! I will have to respond tomorrow, however, as I predict a superrrr long post.))

((You're welcome!! I'm going to go to bed, and then I'm on campus from about 9am-4pm PST. Oh, and this weekend-- Fri, Sat Sun -- is AnimeExpo, so I'll probably be posting from my mobile, if at all. Unless I get the MacBook Air that I want by then, but that depend$ on my back account. :nod: But we can jump that hurdle when we get to it.))

((Homggg!!! I wouldn't even THINK of posting, if I were you! AnimeExpo... wow... the one convention I have always wanted to go to the most. xD You lucky SOB!
But okay, great to know I won't be the only busy one this weekend~))

The visit to Madam Pomfrey went fairly well. When she was asked what happened, Hermione lied and said that she had been practising conjuring spells within the privacy of her dormitory. She further went on to explain her misplacement of a few items, a glass jar being one, that later resulted in her tripping and falling onto said object. She admitted to trying to get most of the shards out herself, but just wanted to check with her to completely make sure her body was rid of them.

Finishing the procedure with a blood-replenishing and wound-cleaning potion, Madam Pomfrey gave Hermione a light tap on the back. “Alright, dear, you're good to go. There were only a few fragments remaining... I must say, I am impressed how well you managed to get the sum of it out on your very own.” Madam Pomfrey commended as she removed her rubber sanitary gloves. Hermione wondered if it was surreptitious suspicion that she deduced in her tone, but decided it was best to ignore it. The less she had to lie, the less chance she had at being found out.

“Thank you.” was all Hermione responded with as she hopped off the soft platform. Turning, Hermione gathered the borrowed robe that she had removed upon entering. As she re-dressed herself in the cascading garment, it also appeared to generate a quizzical look from the nurse.

“Oh, yes, I was curious...why are you in possession of a robe much too big for you, and why did you decide to come to me in merely your undergarments?”

There they were. The questions she had been avoiding.

“Oh... um, well, the displacement of my skirt is due to the fact that I didn't want to irritate the area by adorning another one. And... this old robe was the closest, loosest article lying around. I wanted to get down here as quickly as possible, so I spontaneously grabbed it.” She knew she didn't sound convincing—like any lie she attempted—but Madam Pomfrey seemed to pick up on the fact that the topic was making Hermione uncomfortable, and hence decided to just let it go. She was never one to pry, after all. She just had a curious nature.

“Well, just take it easy for the night. Your wounds should be completely closed up by morning. There will probably be a little initial scarring, but it will fade away over the next few days.”

Hermione graciously thanked the woman once again, then retrieved her books and fled the room.

*

Upon returning to the Gryffindor common room entrance, Hermione muttered the current password to the Fat Lady portrait, permitting her access to the room. She walked through the passageway, into the airy, royally coloured room, where she immediately spotted her two best friends sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace. That was perfect. She would have the chance to quickly run up to girls' dormitory to change and then make her way back down before they even noticed her. Well, that plan was shot down the instant she was about to place her foot on the very first step, when she heard her name being called out.

“Hermione! Over here.”

She looked back toward the sofa, where both pairs of eyes now watched her. Ron was the one who called out, and had been motioning for her to come join them. She felt awkward under their gazes. Not only was that due to the fact that she was wearing a large, foreign robe that likewise sheltered her stripped lower frame, but something just appeared to be a bit dodgy with the two. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could not shake the feeling.

Without much choice in the matter, Hermione put aside her attempt to escape to her dormitory, and walked over to where Harry and Ron were sitting. Unfortunately, her friends had already been previously aware of her arrangement with Snape, so the lie she told Madam Pomfrey would be of no use to her if she needed it.

“What in God's earth are you wearing?!” Ron spluttered, pointing and staring at her robe with the widest eyes. “Is that Snape's?!” He continued obnoxiously.

“Keep it down, Ron!” Hermione chided, not wanting the entire house knowing—even though the three of them were the only ones occupying the main area at that time. “Yes, it's Snape's... there was a little accident during detention and I needed—”

“Yes, we know.” Harry suddenly interrupted her.

Hermione paused for a moment. Squinting her eyes and furrowing her brows, she pitched Harry the most confused look. “What do you mean 'you know'?” She questioned, suddenly dreading and wondering if word had already gotten out. Although, utterly confounded as to how.

“Dobby. Apparently you... crashed into a shelf and cut yourself on broken glass. Is this true?” Harry asked her, sending her a concerned yet serious look.

If it hadn't been for her love of house-elves, Hermione would have hunted down the little sucker and strangled him to death. She wondered how he even found out. With a sigh, she bowed her head. “Yes, that's what happened. But,” she looked back up, “I am perfectly fine. It was just a little accident, nothing to be worried about.” She reassured them as casually as possible, purposefully omitting the details.

“That doesn't explain the robe!” Ron added persistently.

Ignoring Ron's remark, Harry continued to address Hermione on the matter, still not the least bit convinced. “Hermione... if Snape is abusing you, we need to inform Dumblebore.”

“It wasn't his fault!” She defended, despite the fact that it more or less was. “There will be no informing. I told you, it was an accident. It was my first detention—with Snape, no less. Something was bound to go wrong. Just leave it at that.” After the turn of events that was no longer within her control, Hermione rose to her feet with every intention to proceed on her way up to her dormitory. She felt even more awkward knowing that they knew the truth, so she wanted to avoid discussing it any further.

“Now, I'm going to bed. Madam Pomfrey told me to get some rest, so if you'll excuse me... I will see you two in the morning.” She asserted, and left without another word. She didn't care if Harry and Ron wanted to protest, she knew she would be safe amongst the staircase to the girls' dormitory, so she took great advantage of that.

Once she arrived upon her level, her immediate mission was to liberate her body of Snape's robe and put on something a little more suited to her taste. After donning a pair of gray sweatpants and switching her upper get-up for a white t-shirt, Hermione neatly hung the borrowed robe in her closet for the time being. It was out of public sight, and that was all that mattered to her. She would return it the next day during her second detention session—that of which she was especially not looking forward to.

It wasn't until she sprawled on her back across her bed that she realized she was starving. She had not eaten since lunch, so it was only natural. The only issue she had, however, was Harry and Ron. She didn't want them to still be down in the common room when she walked through--that would just make things even more awkward. It was late, though, so she didn't expect them to be hanging around much later. She figured the only reason they had been that time was due to her. When alone, they hung out mostly in their own dormitory.

Hermione allowed twenty minutes to pass before she decided to get back up and cautiously make her way down the staircase, into the common room. Before entering, she skimmed along the wall and peeked around the corner to assure the coast was clear. When she saw that it was, she quickly jogged over to the passageway entrance and exited the room. From that point forth, she advanced on her way to the kitchen.

---

((Gah, you're going to have to help me out here! What is the procedure for food? Are students allowed to go out and get it whenever, or can they only get it during the specific meal times? I will continue/edit my post once you let me know~))

((Thanks for the input! I didn't want to elaborate much on it this time around, it was just a general query I wanted to be aware of for related situations.))

((Food: students can sneak down to the kitchens at any time, assuming they don't get caught by a teacher on patrol. Hermione being -- I guess? -- Head Girl, feel free to give her any extra privileges you wish. I'm online now, though a little distracted, so if you need me to play a teacher or whatnot, just PM me.))

((The LA convention center is about a 20 minute drive -- in good traffic -- from where I live, so... yeah, I'm going. I'm so excited about it; I got my badge this afternoon. Since I'm on a panel, I didn't have to stand in line, either!!))

----

The next morning, Severus could hardly believe it was only the second day of classes. Yesterday had been nothing short of a disaster. The Incident With Miss Granger, as he was coming to think of it, had haunted both his dreams and his nightmares: he was, after all, still fully male, and without a stable partner the occasional female fantasy did intrude upon his subconscious. The blood and glass, and his instinctive actions to repair the damage, had dredged up other, older memories of injuries he'd both inflicted and healed. Quite unpleasant things he usually liked to push down.

As he showered, he wondered briefly if his imagined Hermione Granger was an accurate duplication—

Stop it, Severus, he told himself fiercely, and proceded to finish off in the shower to his usual fantasy of five naked faceless women all figuring out new ways to be nice to him.

More uncomfortable, in all honesty, was still that collision of Severus the Death Eater with Severus the Professor. That aspect bothered him much more than fantasizing about a female student, which he'd happily admit he'd done many a time. Hogwarts had boasted many a beautiful sixth- or seventh-year. Not that any of them had ever had the slightest interest in greasy, ugly, bat-like Professor Snape.

However, he was used to shoving down his urges and instincts, from many years of social and romantic deprivation, and did so now, focusing his mind on what he would be doing with the fifth-years today. Thank Merlin he didn't have any of the N.E.W.T. students today, as their schedules staggered them to two class meetings each week. But he'd still have to see Miss Granger at her detention tonight. Maybe she wouldn't come? No, she was too dutiful a student for that, he decided, and after all, she did deserve the punishment. It was just unlucky and awkward that The Incident had happened during her first detention. And he still had to speak with her about her essay length. He could remind her at breakfast about the detention, and explain to her the advantages of concise writing—but somehow, just a few hours after waking, he couldn't face her.

He'd had no problems facing any of the other students who had featured in his nightly fantasies, so why the problem with Miss Granger?

"Severus?" The voice coming out of his fireplace startled him royally, but he kept his calm and turned around to face Albus' disconnected head.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"You were planning on coming to breakfast, were you not, Severus?"

No, Albus, I don't want to face a slip of a seventeen-year-old girl whose arse I nearly fondled last night, and whose body haunted my dreams.

"No, I have to finish planning some lessons. Yesterday's class with the first-year Ravenclaws—"

"Ah, excellent. I'll join you, then!" And before Severus could protest, the rest of Albus Dumbledore had unfolded itself out of the fireplace and was standing up to his full height in Severus' sitting room.

((I am so sorry for not posting last night!!! It totally was not my fault, though. I had the entire post all written up and everything, then when I went to post it... my internet was down! Grr, pissed me off.))

---

Morning broke and Hermione Granger awoke with a throbbing pain in her head that greatly resembled that of a hangover. No, she did not have any drinks the previous night, but rather the nightmares her mind generated during the night were a more reasonable explanation. She kept her eyes shut due to the sensitivity of the light, and slowly propped herself up in her bed while pressing her hand against her forehead. As the seconds drew on, the recollections of her nightmares filled her mind, making her headache consecutively worse.

Wincing slightly, Hermione fumbled for her wand, and once it was in her possession, she pointed it at her head and muttered a few incantations. It was the magical alternative of the Muggles' 'Advil', so the relief was not instant, but it was certainly much faster. As much as it would soothe the pain, though, it could not diminish the memories of her nightmares. Nightmares that consisted of a particular Professor getting rather close and... suggestive.

Suddenly her spell didn't seem to be working, as she felt sick all over again.

Deciding to attempt a more natural solution to feeling better, Hermione got up and preoccupied herself with morning tasks to keep herself busy. Some time ago, she had read in a few Muggle self-help articles that 'keeping oneself busy' often tends to distract the mind from poisoned thoughts and help maintain a happy, healthy lifestyle. The magazine was courtesy of her mother, so she never took it all that seriously, but in her current predicament she was willing to give anything a shot.

She had woken up early, due to the visions, so she had some time to spare. In that time, she tidied her post; went to shower and brush her teeth; changed; returned to her room; did some more cleaning; then, finally, made her way down to the common room. She managed to take advantage of her time nicely, as she opted not to use magic for any of the tasks. Normally it would have taken her half the time to finish, but she purposefully wanted to take up all the time she had.

Then she had yet to face another issue: Harry and Ron. She realized this when she entered the common room area and saw them sitting by the little round table. She suspected they had been waiting for her—again. Although she wasn't sure why, after the way she acted.

“Oh, Morning, Hermione...” Harry was the first to speak this time, and Ron followed with a smile and a wave.

“Have you decided to let yesterday's mishap go?” Hermione demanded first and foremost as she placed her hands on her hips, sending the boys a strict glare.

“Well, er, no--”

“Then don't bother speaking to me until you have.” Whipping around, Hermione stormed out of the common room. Her anger was more of a defence mechanism than anything. On the inside, she was afraid of the outcome if her friends ever found out what truly transpired. Therefore, by threatening them, they were more likely to give up and quit prying.

Hermione marched on her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. She rarely ever went without the company of her two best friends, but given the circumstance, her preference was set on isolation at that time. She supposed they may join later, but that all depended on if they were willing to abandon the nagging approach.

Severus glared daggers at Albus, not trying to hide his displeasure at his breakfast companion. "To what do I owe the honor of your company at what is often my solitary breakfast ritual?" he asked waspishly.

"Oh, merely to inquire how your first detention with Miss Granger went," Albus said cheerfully. "Breakfast for two in Professor Snape's rooms!" he called to the general air, and instantly a spread appeared on the large table in the center of Severus' sitting room. "Come and join me, Severus," he said, as if he were the host, not Severus.

Silently Severus sat down, immediately picking up a cup of coffee to occupy his mouth. If he kept his mouth full, he'd not have to answer too much.

"Do tell, Severus," Albus encouraged. "I'm particularly intrigued to know why I observed Miss Granger leaving the infirmary at approximately seven o'clock last night, when your detention was supposed to last from six until curfew. Upon asking Poppy about the young lady, she informed me that Hermione Granger had managed to fall on a lot of glass somehow, mixed with dragon bile, implying the accident had occurred in her dormitory. No doubt she assumed Poppy would not notice the dragon bile, or perhaps not make the connection that even the most extraordinary student would not have a supply of dragon bile in his or her dormitory large enough to need storage in a glass container on the floor."

Severus, who had already choked on his coffee at Albus' first words about observing Miss Granger, was feeling lightheaded with the lack of air entering his system.

With a forceful effort, he took a deep breath and wiped the coffee from his face. Damn you, Albus, for being so damned nosy. "Miss Granger did indeed have an accident during detention," Severus admitted as coolly as he could. "She stumbled in the storage cupboard and landed on the large jar of dragon bile, crushing it."

"Why, I wonder," Albus asked idly, serving himself a large helping of scrambled eggs and adding six slices of bacon, "would she have prevaricated to Poppy? Miss Granger is normally such an honest and straightforward girl."

"I have no idea, Albus," Severus replied, and filled his mouth with toast to preclude saying more.

"Miss Granger also apparently implied that she had removed most of the glass herself, but you and I both know that dragon bile does not respond well to magic, and as flexible as Miss Granger surely is, she would not have been able to remove as much as was removed without outside assistance."

Severus chewed his toast in stony silence and took another piece immediately.

Albus simply waited, his hands paused over his own breakfast, looking Severus in the face in that horribly penetrating way.

"Don't try Legilimency on me," Severus snapped automatically, spattering crumbs of toast everywhere.

"Then do please explain to me what really happened, my dear Severus, before I begin drawing conclusions," Albus replied.

Severus glared at the faint smile on his Headmaster's face.

"Fine," he snapped. "She fell, and I removed most of the glass."

"From her bottom?"

"Of course from her bottom! That was where the glass was!"

"Her skirt must have been in tatters," Albus said. Was Severus imagining the lascivious overtone in his voice? Damned old fairy, he thought.

"Naturally, with that much glass."

"Which is why it was completely missing when Miss Granger arrived at the infirmary," Albus said.

"Yes," Severus agreed shortly. He was not going to elaborate, no matter how hard Albus tried to get inside his mind.

"Well, well, well," Albus said, sounding thoroughly pleased. "And did you like Miss Granger's bottom?"

Severus spluttered with rage. "Headmaster, she is a student!" he retorted.

"Not for much longer," Albus replied breezily. "Well, thank you so much for the invitation to breakfast, Severus, but I really must be going now. Enjoy your day!"

It took Severus some minutes to stop shaking enough to finish eating.

Damned meddlesome queer old fart, he thought angrily, but sobered instantly when he realized that Albus' meddlesome queries and comments had just effectively approved of a partnership with Hermione Granger.

"Oh," he said to the empty room. His mind, raging a moment ago, went very calm and still, like the silence before a storm—a storm, he knew, that would not arrive until the next time he saw her.

((LMAO @ “Did you like Miss Granger's bottom?”!!! Ahahaha... best sentence, FTW.))

---

Hermione's morning passed by fairly quickly. After breakfast, she attended her double-period lesson in Defence Against The Dark Arts. Fortunately for her, Harry and Ron's Defence Against The Dark Arts class fell on a different time slot in their schedule, so it saved her from any potential pestering. Once her class was over, however, she had lunch to face. Even if they didn't approach her during lunch, she still had to share a double-period of Transfiguration with the two, directly afterwards.

Her hope was destroyed the instant she spotted both Harry and Ron heading in the direction of her spot at the Gryffindor table. Confirming her suspicions, both boys plopped down on either side of her on the bench.

“Hermione,” Harry began. “Before you start protesting against us... we just want to let you know that we are here for you. We will promise to stop bugging you about this... but you should know by now that you can trust us with anything, no matter what.” He placed a comforting hand on her wrist, reassuring her that he really was there for her and that his concern was sincere.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, as he loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Whatever happened... that's your business! We'll try our best not to get involved. Just let us know whenever you need our assistance.” He flashed a big grin toward her and gave her shoulder a light pat.

Hermione had not expected them to be so understanding so soon. She supposed they had really matured in that aspect. On the other hand, however, she was a little fearful that maybe they were up to something. The feeling was not strong, but still somewhat there. It wasn't often that she kept secrets from her friends, so she wasn't sure if they truly understood or not. She just hoped they did; she hated having to avoid her only two close friends.

“Thank you... both of you...” Hermione replied gratefully, flashing them both a somewhat sheepish grin. She felt a little awkward after the ordeal, but assumed it would pass soon enough. Despite them being so trustworthy, though, for some reason Hermione still failed in managing to tell them the truth. It was mainly because if they knew... then they would definitely never let it go. Hermione knew it was just an accident, and did not want to turn it into some huge deal. Then there was also the possibility of it leaking... so she deemed it best to just keep it to herself.

The food appeared after a few minutes, and the trio slowly started warming back up to each other once again. They had been in little fights before, so it wasn't an overly difficult task for them to forget it all and move on. That's what was so great about their bond.

*

Transfiguration class began, and Hermione was more than happy that the three of them made up during lunch. She really had not been looking forward to 'enduring' the class. Such tension would have distracted her from the lesson.

“Alright, students, we will be beginning our lesson today with 'Evanesco', the Vanishing Spell.” Professor McGonagall announced after her ten-minute introduction speech.

“Now, you have all had previous experience with several small items and creatures, so we will be expanding a little in today's lesson.” After mentioning that, with a flick of her wand, 22 cages suddenly appeared individually on the desks in front of each student. Within each cage contained a ferret.

“Your assignment for today is to make these ferrets vanish and then conjure them again, consecutively. I trust you all remember the proper steps and incantations... so, you are free to begin.”

Hermione turned her attention to the furry creature in front of her, after Professor McGonagall retreated to her desk.

“I hope these lil' buggers don't bite...” Ron commented as he cautiously opened the cage.

Un-latching the cage door, Hermione pointed her wand at the long creature. She had never had an issue with Vanishing Spells, so she was confident in her abilities to perform the spell correctly. Before she even got the chance to chant the spell, however, she had a sudden flashback of her incident with Snape. The subject of Vanishing Spells reminded her of what had happened to her skirt.

She allowed her eyes to close for a minute as she recollected herself and forced the memory out of her mind. She needed her thoughts to be clear in order to focus solely on the spell.

She started out slowly, and succeeded the first couple of rounds. Pleased with her success, she proceeded onward. Her next attempt, however, turned out to be a bit of a disaster. Well—disaster through her eyes. Instead of making the ferret vanish completely, she subconsciously made it transform into a skirt. Hermione was so caught off guard that she quickly grabbed the skirt and stuffed into her lap under the desk before anyone could notice. She glanced guiltily around the room, just to be sure, but everyone was focused on their own ferrets.

Except for that one individual.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly echoed throughout the room. “May I have a moment after class?” She requested, sending the alarmed girl a direct stare.

Hermione nodded apprehensively. She looked around the room again and noticed a few heads had turned toward her.

“Blimey, what was that about?” Ron whispered as he leaned toward Hermione.

“I... I don't know...” She said, partially lying. There was no obvious evidence but she had a very strong feeling what is was about.

Ron snorted. “Christ, you're on a roll! First Snape, and now--” He came to an abrupt halt, and wished he could have taken back what he had started saying the instant he saw the threatened look Hermione flashed him. “Sorry...” He apologized, giving her an ashamed smile as he returned to his own ferret.

Hermione wasn't too bothered by it. She was mostly bothered by the fact that she screwed up and Professor McGonagall had witnessed it. The skirt remained stuffed in her lap, so once she assured nobody remained staring at her, she pointed her wand at the skirt in her lap and transformed it back into the ferret. After that, she placed the ferret back in the cage and continued with the incantations—being extra cautious and focusing a lot more seriously.

Luckily, Hermione experienced no more mishaps throughout the rest of the lesson. When the end of the class arrived, all the other students left the room while Hermione remained. Harry and Ron agreed to wait for her outside once again. She was beginning to feel way too much Deja Vu that year than she could handle.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall began once Hermione stood before her desk at the front. “How are you coping with the start of your final year?” She asked, just as a general question without any harshness in her tone.

“Well...” Hermione didn't really know how to respond the that. It was the most terrible start ever, in all honesty, but she didn't really feel like going into detail. “It's going fine, I guess. I'm just... trying to assure I pass with the best grades possible.” She admitted, which was in fact the truth.

“Hmm, I see.” Professor McGonagall seemed to take a moment to think. “Well, if I can be frank, I was quite shocked when I saw you stumble on your spell earlier. Within the past six years of your attendance at this school, I must say... I have never witnessed a single mistake from you in my class.” She paused for a second moment, seemingly searching Hermione's face for answers. “Is there... something boggling your mind, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had broken off their eye contact, feeling uncomfortable under her strict gaze. “Um, no... not in particular. I just... have a lot of work to do this year. Since it's my last, I have a lot to organize.” She mustered up the courage to look back up into McGonagall's eyes, giving her the sincerest look she could for a lie.

“Hmm, I see.” McGonagall repeated. “May I ask, then... why, of all objects, did you conjure a skirt? I am just not recognizing the relation...”

Professor McGonagall was one keen woman—no doubt about that.

Hermione struggled to keep finding answers. “I... I'm honestly not entirely sure, Professor. It could be a combination of reasons... perhaps due to one of my skirts recently catching fire by accident.” She knew it sounded pathetic, but she had no reasonable explanation.

“Ah, how interesting.” She paused for another moment. “Well... it is not uncommon. Everyone is prone to mistakes, even the most intelligent of individuals. However, if a series of these begin... we will have to engage in a more serious discussion. I am certain you do not wish for it to impact your final grade, am I correct?”

“Absolutely.” Hermione nodded. She really hoped it would not occur again—she could not afford to lose points in her final year. Not to mention it was humiliating.

“Very well, Miss Granger. If you find that you are having difficulties or distractions... I want you to come to me at once.” She demanded.

“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione nodded respectively before being dismissed. After leaving the room, she met up with Harry and Ron outside of it and they made their way up to the Gryffindor common room. Since neither Harry or Ron saw her mistake, she just explained to them that McGonagall was simply interested in how the start of her year was going. She felt bad maintaining the lies with them, but she figured it to be the most beneficial decision.

The next thing she knew, she was up in the common room and had two hours until her next detention with Snape. She had put off the thought the entire day to the best of her ability so she hadn't had any time to worry over it. Now she had two hours jam-packed with anxiety.

((*snickersnort* I love how Hermione's mind works. Conjuring a skirt instead of vanishing the ferret!))

----

Severus' day was, to put it mildly, the most frustrating and uncomfortable day he had ever experienced, including the time Voldemort had caught him in a lie and had spent a leisurely evening nearly killing him before deciding that Severus could still be valuable.

It seemed to him that every teacher, every student, every face in the corridor was gazing at him reproachfully, as though they knew what he had dreamed... and what he'd actually done. What he'd nearly done. What he, if he were honest with himself, would not mind at all doing. The fact that Miss Granger might have minded simply didn't bother him. He'd had enough experience with sex-based magic to know that he could make her not mind pretty much anything.

It didn't cross Severus' mind that students and fellow teachers always looked at him reproachfully.

He taught the second year Hufflepuffs, making at least three of them cry, then moved on to the sixth-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, where he was certain that young Ginny Weasley was attempting Occlumency on him, as she did not take her eyes off him, much to the terror of her brewing partner, whom Severus observed making several rather clever adjustments to their Dreamless Sleep potion to prevent it from exploding. He made a mental note to begin judging Luna Lovegood's essays rather more harshly, as she clearly knew what she was doing with potions.

He had to take lunch in the Great Hall, as the house-elves didn't do midday service, and so he witnessed some sort of conversation between Miss Granger and her two guard dogs.

With a start, Severus remembered the house-elf, Dobby. Dobby had once belonged to the Malfoys, and had been freed by one meddlesome Harry Potter. He groaned.

"Something the matter, Severus?" asked Minerva next to him.

"Just a sudden uncomfortable realization, Minerva," Severus replied truthfully. "No doubt you have had them before as well."

He didn't see that Minerva noticed where he was looking.

---

The afternoon classes ground on. One of the fourth years splattered frog brains all over the dungeon ceiling, which gave Severus a chance to explode in rage as he'd been dying to do all day. He gave the boy detention with Filch -- he'd almost given out a detention with himself before remembering that all his evenings for the foreseeable future were occupied with Miss Granger. He almost cancelled his next class at that thought.

The memory of Albus' tacit permission to court Miss Granger also didn't improve his mood, and the first-year Slytherins lost a good hundred points during their class, the last one of the day. One girl even came up to him and asked if there was something wrong with him, and he snarled, "Of course there is. Now get out!" Which, he reflected a moment later, would probably send rumors all over the school.

When the last student had finally fled the room and the dungeons were silent, Severus turned to his desk piled high with essays. He was just about to sit down and vent some of his anger on them when it happened.

He'd not had a Summons all summer: Voldemort had been lying low, watching the Order's movements, letting the Wizarding World think he'd been scared off by the failed murder attempts on Dumbledore. Draco Malfoy had finally cornered the Headmaster, but had been interrupted by meddlesome Harry Potter. The two students had dueled, and Dumbledore had fought off the Death Eaters who had been hoping to help take over the castle that night. Albus Dumbledore had continued to serenely lead the school and the Order of the Phoenix, giving no one -- except perhaps Harry Potter -- any clues as to how he planned to destroy Voldemort and the Death Eaters for good.

Now, Severus' Dark Mark was burning, painfully red and swollen, and he began to move on automatic: first, to Albus, to tell him of the summons.

He let himself in to Albus' office and found the Headmaster deep in conversation with Phineas Nigellus. "Ah, Severus, I'd been expecting you," Albus said.

"Yes. I've been summoned," Severus said flatly. "Is there anything you need me to pass along to the Dark Lord?"

"No, nothing this time. I have been as uncommunicative with you as ever. Perhaps I suspect you," Albus said breezily.

"Tonight's meeting is sure to involve planning his next moves. It may last a long time."

"You have a detention at six o'clock, correct?"

"I—" Severus swallowed. "If I am not back by six, please meet Miss Granger at the Potions classroom and inform her—"

"I'll say something appropriate. She already knows, Severus."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Severus left, hurrying down the spiral stairs, down the corridors, and out of the castle.
----

At a few minutes before six o'clock, Albus Dumbledore sighed and went to meet Miss Granger at the Potions classroom. He always worried when Severus went to these meetings, but the boy was able to take care of himself now. Albus knew he ought to have felt guilty for continuing to use him, well after Severus had repaid his debt, but he didn't feel any guilt. It was for the greater good, after all.

No one was outside the Potions room when Albus got there, a minute before six, so he let himself in and went to sit at Severus' desk.

Hermione arrived upon the seemingly cursed dungeon classroom at exactly six o'clock on the dot. As she had been nearing it, there was a steady, increasing rise of butterflies' fluttering in her stomach. It reached its peak once the classroom door came into view, but as she approached it she suddenly became aware of something unusual.

The door was slightly ajar.

In all her years at the school, Snape never left the door open. At that moment, curiosity and concern merged with her anxiety, which she was certain would have evoked heart failure had she been a tad older.

Cautiously, Hermione placed her palm on the wooden arched door and slowly pushed it open. Although she had suspected something to be off, she never expected to meet Dumbledore occupying Snape's desk in place of the Potions teacher himself.

A whole new slew of emotions swept over the girl, at the sight. She felt relief that she wouldn't have to awkwardly face her Professor... but then she surprisingly felt a tiny ounce of concern. She knew that Snape was never absent without good reason... and the only good reason she knew was related to the Death Eaters situation—a very dangerous one, at that. As much as she disliked Snape, she would still feel awful were anything to happen to him. She couldn't explain it... perhaps she was just soft that way.

Without getting ahead of herself and making any further assumptions, however, Hermione eased her way into the classroom and went to join Dumbledore next to Snape's desk.

“Headmaster...” Hermione cleared her throat, her eyebrows creased troublingly. “Is something the matter? Where is Professor Snape?” Her gaze alternated between Dumbledore and Snape's desk. She tried her best to maintain direct eye contact with the old man, but it was hard with his observant nature. Every time her eyes connected with his, she felt he could just read straight into her thoughts. She wasn't as close with Dumbledore as, say, Harry; therefore, as far as she was concerned... she wanted to keep her secrets from him just as much as everyone else. The only difference was that he was a lot more perceptive... he was most certainly no fool.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Albus replied. He examined the girl. She looked anxious and nervous, but a tad relieved. So she had not reacted well to having Professor Snape remove glass shards from her bottom. Well, she might not be able to see Severus in that light. Yet.

"As I'm sure you may have guessed," Albus answered, "Professor Snape is away from the castle for now. He was called away around four o'clock, and asked me to come meet you here if he were not back by six. No doubt you understand that he does not always know how long he will need to be away."

----

Everyone else had left, and it was now just Voldemort and Severus, locked eye to eye in a battle of Legilimency and Occlumency. Never had Severus had to work so hard to keep the truth locked away. Voldemort kept calling forth image after image of Hogwarts, and Severus had to make sure that the Dark Lord did not notice his Occlumency. He had to allow images to be seen while shielding others.

Severus is talking with Albus. "I do not understand why you place so much faith in the boy, Headmaster. He is lazy, sloppy, and relies too much on much cleverer friends."

Fine. Flash.

Severus and Lucius Malfoy are setting fire to a Muggle-lover's house in London. He can hear the screams inside and wants to—

Stop. Cut to later: Lucius turns to Severus and laughs, and Severus laughs with him.

The Order of the Phoenix is meeting, discussing how to protect Harry Potter now that he is seventeen and can no longer rely on the protection of his aunt and uncle.

This one had to be carefully handled, the conversation twisted, words left out, all without the Dark Lord noticing.

Done.

And so it went on, image after image, Voldemort picking Severus' memories to pieces. He was used to this, used to dodging and hiding and worming his mental way out of the Dark Lord's probes. Until—

Severus is removing bits of glass from Hermione Granger's— In his dreams, he holds her naked body in his arms— Hermione Granger's voice, gasping and screaming in ecstasy, and Severus' own emotions and sensations—

No, not that, anything but that. With a jolt, Severus pulled away from the Dark Lord's mental grip. It was the first time he had ever done so completely, the first time he had ever shown his full powers. He knew the price. He'd no longer be trusted, no longer be able to spy. But if Voldemort discovered that there was a way to manipulate Severus emotionally, he would take it, especially if it involved a Mudblood. And Hermione Granger, Severus' emotions aside, was absolutely crucial to winning this war.

"Crucio!" Severus knew the curse, had experienced it before. It was ghastly, as usual. It burned him from the inside out, fire in every nerve. "Severus, you have been deceiving me. I ought to kill you right here, right now," Voldemort said. His voice still gave Severus chills.

"My Lord, I apologize. Please forgive me," Severus gasped through the pain. "I do not know what happened!"

Calm, stay calm. Grovel. Beg forgiveness. Pretend. Maybe he could get out of this.

"Nonsense. You know what happened," Voldemort hissed. "You blocked me from seeing something you did not want me to see. How much else have you been hiding, dear Severus? How much else have you kept from me? Crucio!"

"Please, my lord! Please!" The pain went on and on, into what felt like infinity. This was worse than usual. How much longer could he take it before his mind went, before he lost consciousness? He felt his body tossed against something hard, and felt several ribs crack.

Suddenly, Voldemort lifted the spell, laughing. "Had enough, my dear spy?"

"Please, my lord, I am loyal to you!" Severus gasped. He lifted a hand to his temple and felt blood.

"Liar," hissed Voldemort. "Do you think I cannot make the connection between your reaction and the images I saw? Who is she, Severus? Why do you care about her? Why do you not wish me to see her? And how much else have you been hiding?" he roared. "Tell the truth!"

Severus reacted instinctively. "Protego!" he shouted, unable to dredge up the strength and focus for a nonverbal spell. In the instant of time his Shield Charm gave him, he Disapparated, folding into that compressing nothingness, away from danger, away from the Dark Lord, away from the role of spy he had performed so faithfully for so many years, and could no longer.

When his surroundings materialized, he was at Hogwarts' Gates. He limped inside as fast as he could, knowing that Voldemort, and several Death Eaters, would be after him in an instant. He had to get to Albus.

The path up to the castle had never felt so long. His insides were burning, blood was dripping down his face, and he was completely out of strength.

A large figure loomed out of the twilit darkness at him, and Severus nearly cried with relief. "Hagrid?" he called. "Hagrid, is that you?"

"Professor Snape? What're yer doin' out here? Aren't you s'posed to be at dinner?"

"Later, Hagrid. Please, I need help."

"Blimey, yer bleeding! Up we go..." Hagrid lifted Severus up in his huge, smelly arms and proceeded to carry him toward the castle.

"Not to the hospital wing. To Albus. I need to talk to Albus."

"Professor Dumbledore wasn't at dinner, so I don't know where he is."

"He's probably in my classroom. Please, Hagrid, hurry." Severus could tell he had lost a lot of blood. His nerves still jangled with the Cruciatus Curse -- how long had he been under it?

Hagrid dutifully hurried, and in a minute or two they were inside the castle doors. Students in the entrance hall, coming from dinner, stared at the unlikely pair: Hagrid carrying a bleeding Professor Snape in his arms, not to the hospital wing, but to the dungeons.

Severus groaned. More gossip. Well, no doubt the news would be all over the school soon enough, that Hagrid had bested him in a duel, or that Severus had been injured gathering something from the forest and Hagrid had rescued him. Something horribly embarrassing.

"Hang in there, Professor," Hagrid reassured him. "Nearly there..."

And then they were there, and Hagrid placed Severus gently on his feet.

"You going to be okay, Professor? I can't fit in these doors anymore—"

"Yes, thank you," Severus managed to say, and pushed the door open.

He heard Albus voice saying, "...come meet you here if he were not back by six. No doubt you understand that he does not always know how long he will need to be away."

Then, as Severus made his staggering, blood-stained entrance, he heard Albus swear more violently and fluidly than he'd known the man could. And with Albus there, with a final glimpse of Miss Hermione Granger standing in the middle of his classroom, Severus was able to let his consciousness go.

He collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

---

((Sorry, I got really carried away...))

((No, no, it's perfect. xD))

---

Hermione's heart nearly leaped out of her throat when she whirled around to identify the sudden intruder—only to be greeted with a bloodied Potions master struggling his way through the entrance.

A sharp gasp escaped from her lips and a cupped hand instantly clasped against her mouth. Widened eyes watched as his beaten figure crashed against the cold, hard floor merely a few seconds after entering. He didn't even get the chance to say a word.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, out of shock, but once that reflex passed, she did not let a second go by before rushing over and kneeling by his side.

“Professor!” Hermione placed both of her hands on his shoulders, and shouted again, “Professor Snape!” and she gave him a little nudge. When she did not receive any response, her head immediately snapped in Dumbledore's direction. “Headmaster, please! Do something!”

Her gaze fell back on Snape's limp, injured figure, and goosebumps began creeping up along her skin. She wasn't sure why, but the concern she felt for him at that particular moment exceeded far past what she would ever expect. She was not used to seeing him in such a vulnerable state... it was too unsettling for words.

Albus had known this day would come someday, and was neither sad nor relieved that it had finally come. He did wonder, though, exactly what had triggered it.

"Miss Granger, please calm down," Albus said. "We will need to take him to Poppy. He would have gone there himself, but I believe he wanted to be sure that I knew he had returned. And," he added thoughtfully, "perhaps to make sure that you were safe."

With those words he levitated Severus' body into the air and sent a Patronus messenger on ahead to Poppy to let her know what was going on.

'To make sure she was safe.' Hermione had to wonder what Albus meant by that. Surely, she was not exposed to any harm. Deciding to ignore the comment for the time being, however, she focused on Snape's figure as Dumbledore levitated it and briskly began making their way toward the infirmary. Hermione escorted alongside Snape's drifting body, finding that she spent most of her time observing him rather than anything else. Luckily for them, the majority of students were attending dinner, so, for the most part, the halls were clear.

Finally, they arrived at the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey tended to them the instant they stepped through the door. Everything was already set up, as she had been expecting them, thanks to the forewarning.

There wasn't much assistance Hermione could actually provide, so she just stood at the end of the bed, watching as Snape was gently laid down. The tense, worried expression on Hermione's face would cease to relax even the slightest bit until she had 100% confirmation that he was definitely going to be fine.

Albus observed Hermione Granger as Poppy set about fixing Severus up. The girl was what, seventeen now? Yes, she'd be seventeen, going on eighteen if he recalled correctly. Hogwarts students had to be eleven upon entrance, and she had a September birthday.

Eighteen years old, no boyfriend, far too smart for any of the other students to really even be intellectual companions. He could sympathize; after all, the lack of friendship and romance at Hogwarts was what had led him to Gellaert. What a whirlwind time that had been, if short.

Hermione Granger looked tense and worried. That was good; Severus would need someone to worry over him during his recovery.

"Poppy?" Albus then asked.

"He'll live," she said brusquely. "I've set the ribs, cleared out some of the nerve damage from the Cruciatus. As soon as he wakes I'll give him some Dreamless Sleep. He needs rest. He was probably under the Cruciatus for a good—" Poppy broke off, noticing that Hermione was still there.

"Miss Granger is a girl of utmost trustworthiness, I assure you, Poppy."

Poppy harumpphed, but continued, "He was probably under the Cruciatus for a good fifteen minutes in total. That's going to leave some damage, and the only way to cure that is time."

"Can he teach tomorrow?" Albus asked, very concerned.

Poppy pursed her lips and seemed reluctant to answer.

"Poppy..." said Albus warningly.

"Yes, teaching will be fine," Poppy answered irritably. "But nothing strenuous."

Albus sighed in relief. "I wouldn't have minded taking some of his classes," he told Hermione, "but I think it would be best for Severus to get back to some sort of normal life as quickly as possible."

Cruciatus... The instant Hermione heard that word, her body tensed even more and her grip on the bed rail tightened. She listened to the rest of Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis and their conversation in silence.

When Albus insisted that Snape continue teaching the next day, Hermione wanted to yell out and protest, but she didn't want them to start getting suspicious for the wrong reasons. Instead, she inhaled and exhaled deeply and approached the issue with two elders as calmly as possible, however tense she truly was.

“Are you sure that's a good idea, Professor?” She addressed Dumbledore in specific. “I mean, we don't really know anything for sure... he never got the chance to say a word. We shouldn't overlook these things... and we most certainly should not force him into any labour if he is not ready.” She knew she was probably speaking out of line, but she didn't care. She glanced quickly at Madam Pomfrey to see her expression, before settling back on Snape.

Albus looked at Miss Granger in pleased surprised. "Why, Miss Granger, I had no idea you cared about him so much!" he exclaimed, making it clear through his expressions that he was partly joking.

"In all seriousness, however, the fact that Severus has returned with injuries, and came to see me first of all, means that he has lost his place in Tom Riddle's inner circle."

"Headmaster!" exclaimed Poppy.

"Do relax, please, Madam Pomfrey. I imagine Miss Granger has known this for many years. In any case, something very terrible has happened to lead Severus to deliberately, as the Muggles might say, 'blow his cover.' Something terrible enough to warrant torture from Tom Riddle, or the other Death Eaters, or perhaps all of them. And then he must rely on Hagrid to carry him up to the castle. I believe, Hermione," Albus said, very seriously, looking at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles, "that by teaching, he will be able to recover from this trauma faster than if I allowed him to wallow in guilt or reproach in the hospital wing."

Hermione never had any chance at winning an argument over Dumbledore. He was wiser, older, and regardless of all that, he had the most authority. His word was official. Although she would never admit it, part of his reasoning did make a little bit of sense to her. Despite her feelings toward the matter, she didn't want to continue the debate, as Dumbledore's comment had made it very clear that she was expressing herself too much. It wasn't due to her liking the man or anything... it was mainly because although their 'incident' was awkward and embarrassing, he still went through the trouble of doing the best he could to save her from experiencing a far more terrible aftermath. Because of that, she felt somewhat indebted to him... she wanted to ensure his well-being this time.

“Fine.” Hermione accepted with a defeated sigh, not even bothering to pry her eyes from Snape to look at the Headmaster.

After a short moment, she then glanced up at Madam Pomfrey. “How long do you think it will be until he awakens?” She questioned.

"If I had my way," said Poppy Pomfrey in a tone that she hoped would make it clear that, whether by chance or not, she planned to get her way, "he'll be asleep all night. And as soon as he does wake, I'll be tossing several doses of Dreamless Sleep down him."

She couldn't contradict the Headmaster in front of a student, whether or not that student was Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's Best Friend and The Best Student Hogwarts Has Had For Many Years.

"His first class is at nine tomorrow, please, Poppy. I really would like to have him teaching and not fretting around here."

"If you want him to be ready to teach tomorrow, Headmaster, then please, leave him in quiet!" Poppy didn't care if Severus were out cold, it was her strong professional opinion that noise was bad even for the completely comatose patient.

"Very well. Miss Granger, would you step up to my office?" Albus asked, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her out of the infirmary.

When Hermione heard the Headmaster mention that he expected Snape to be up and ready to jump straight into action first thing in the morning, she clenched her teeth and was just about to storm out of the room and be on her way. However, that plan changed when he requested that she follow him to his office, leading her by the hand.

She started out a bit frustrated that she would be forced to continue talking with him, but then she started getting worried. What if he really did get the wrong idea and wanted to bring it up with her? What if he wanted to expel her for it? What if he already knew about the incident? Hermione's mind was reeling, but her mouth remained shut throughout their journey up to his office.

Once they arrived and passed the security obstacle, Hermione followed Dumbledore into his room and took a seat on the guest chair that she previously occupied the day before. She then awaited whatever the Headmaster had to say, as she had been brought there against her will.

"Miss Granger," Albus began, "you have no doubt been aware for some time that Severus has been a spy for our side in the fight against Voldemort."

He continued, "And now, it is clear to me that he has lost the ability to carry out that role. Why and how, I cannot be certain. But it has something to do with you. Do not be embarrassed, dear child: Madam Pomfrey told me of the, ahem, glass incident, and I made Severus tell me the truth about what happened. Accidents happen, and we are, after all, only human."

He looked steadily at her. "In the coming months, Severus may need an activity to distract him from what he's lost. Teaching has never been his life; you no doubt know that he rather despises most students. He does not have the same affection for the untutored as I or Minerva or Flitwick have. He is a brilliant man, and has languished here for lack of a use of his many skills. Spying for us was, though it sounds callous to say so, a way for me to use him in a way which helped him use himself." Albus thought over what he'd just said and nodded. He'd got all the words in the right order. "In plain language, it gave him something to do, which he desperately needed. It was a challenge. Now that he's lost that, he's going to need another challenge."

He looked hard at Hermione. "You, I think, will be that challenge."