Chapter 2
Her scream was still echoing when her feet met solid ground again. Magic shimmered across her skin as she stumbled away from her captor, eyes blinking as she adjusted to the new location. She didn’t dare to look behind her, certain that Voldemort’s snakelike eyes would be the ones to meet her.
Disoriented, she practically ran into a wall of books and vials. To the right was a glowing fireplace, to the left a door. The fireplace was lit, and surely she wouldn’t be able to floo before Voldemort could grab her. The door was close, but not close enough. She squeezed her wand in her hand as she tried to apparate herself, picturing Shell Cottage - surely that would still be a safe place to go. Holding her breath, she felt her insides squirm, but her feet remained firmly on the floor. Anti-apparition wards.
Although this all transpired in a matter of moments, Hermione realized that the room was silent, aside from the crackling fire. Voldemort hadn’t killed her yet. She took a deep breath, preparing her defensives in her mind before turning and facing her captor.
“Expe…” Her spell turned into a yelp as she took in the form in front of her - dark eyes baring into her, long coat covered in dust and dirt. There was blood dripping from a cut above his left eye and he looked positively exhausted.
“Sev…Professor Snape? But the fire, I thought? Where are we? Why did you bring me here? Where is…?”
“Hush.” Severus interrupted her harshly before she accidentally said Voldemort’s name in her flurry of questions. He stepped closer to her just as she took a step back, her body resting against the wall of shelves. “Your…distraction gave me enough time to deal with the threat at hand. I felt that remaining at Hogwarts would put you, being at the forefront of The Dark Lord’s mind, in immense danger.” He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that she couldn’t help but nod.
Severus moved to wipe his brow and cursed quietly when his fingertips came away bloody.
“Sir, let me.” Before he could protest, Hermione closed the space between them. She cast a quick scourgify and a simple healing spell, running her fingers across the silvery line that was left over. She tucked a stray strand of raven hair behind his ear before she realized what she was doing and, heat flushing across her chest, she stepped back hurriedly, eyes cast down.
“I have always known Potter and Weasley to be completely without an intelligent idea, but I never once imagined that you, Miss Granger, would stoop to their level of stupidity. What you did tonight, following me, was incredibly foolish and, had one thing gone differently, would have ended in your untimely death.” The volume of his voice was raising the longer he spoke and Hermione refused to look at him, horrified now by the reality of what had happened.
“You. Could. Have. Died.” Each word was punctuated with such disdain that Hermione couldn’t help but flinch. He turned away from her then, stomping towards the fireplace and taking a series of deep exhales. She had seen her professor lose his temper plenty of times, but had never felt anger like this from him.
“But what about you, sir,” she whispered. “He was there, and you were fighting…”
“My days are but numbered, girl. My death is inevitable.” His arm was resting on the mantle, his forehead pressed against that, and they stood again in silence. Her mind was spinning, reliving the duel between the two wizards, Voldemort’s cold, white eyes looking right at her.
“We have to go back. Please, Harry and Ron, they need my help! They don’t know where I went, where I am! I have to help them!”
Turning to face her once again, he grimaced, gripping his forearm with long fingers. His mark, she realized. Voldemort could summon him through his mark. “It is not safe for you there. He will be looking for you, I am sure of it, and once he realizes you are no longer in the castle, he will hunt for me.” He grimaced and squeezed his arm a bit harder. “I don’t know what he thinks transpired with you this evening, but aside from killing Potter, I am sure he is truly desperate to get his hands on me. His loyal servant, turned against him.”
Hermione couldn’t help but stare. Of course, Dumbledore had said that Snape could be trusted, and he had never done anything to make her think he would ever hurt her, but hearing straight from him that he was not loyal to Voldemort…
“Thank you, Sir. I…I don’t know why I followed you tonight, but something in my gut told me I had to, that…well, that you needed me to. I didn’t think about what might happen to me, just that you needed someone to be there for you. But you saved me, and I can never thank you enough…” She didn’t realize she was crying until the tears began to drop from her chin and she turned away quickly, wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater.
Suddenly, an orb of light appeared in front of her, Ron’s voice flowing from it. “Hermione, it’s over. Harry…he’s dead. You Know Who, he’s killed him. I don’t know where you are, and please Merlin I hope you’re alive, but you have to get somewhere safe. Hermione...” The orb dissipated and a sob erupted from her lips, sending her completely over the edge. She turned back towards Snape who had moved across the room to listen to the patronus, and she swore she had never seen him so afraid in his life.
“You are safe here, Miss Granger. This home, my home, is under the fidelius charm, with me being its secret keeper. No one but me knows of its existence. No one can enter or leave without being with me. You are safe.” He removed his hand from his forearm to place it on her shoulder, an attempt to soothe her, but she stepped into him instead. Wrapping her arms around his lithe body, she pressed her tear streaked face into his chest, the smell of flame-licked wood assaulting her senses.
“Oh, you stupid girl,” he whispered, smoothing her hair down with his hand as she cried against him.