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Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34536 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
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It was pitch black in the bedroom when a jolt in Hermione's bladder made her wake up. Her body still ridden with sleep, she untangled the blankets from around her and sat up. She forgot about the headphones that were still perched, although now askew, on her head.

Standing up, Hermione jumped in fright when the headphones were roughly yanked from her head, pulling a few hairs along with them, and causing the cd player to fall to the floor in a loud clatter.

Feeling slightly sheepish, she opened her bedroom door and blindly made her way to the loo. Hermione was stumbling back to her bedroom when she heard noises coming from the guest bedroom. Almost going into a panic, she remembered that the professor was on the other side of the door.

Wondering if he was having another nightmare, Hermione stood at the door and listened. His words were muffled and unintelligible yet still laced with the sounds of distress. When they stopped after a few seconds, Hermione decided to walk back to her room.

She was halfway down the hall when she heard Severus yelling out again, and she backtracked in front of his bedroom. Hermione dallied for a moment, wondering if she should wake him. When he still hadn't quieted down she gently placed a hand on the doorknob, turning it while trying to make the least amount of noise.

Poking her head inside of the darkened room, she was barely able to make out his form in the bed. Hermione considered calling out his name but suddenly declined. Judiciously making her way to the bed, she partly hovered over the professor whom had grown quiet again.

Hermione had just straightened her posture when the man yelled out again, his body flailing about. One of his hands shot out, slapping against her midsection. Biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain, Hermione sank to her knees beside the bed.

'Damn!' she swore inwardly, feeling the pain radiating throughout her body. Despite the man being asleep he was still dangerous even if he was unaware. Hermione realized that his hands were heavier than they looked.

She found that she was unable to fault Severus; he'd been in the throes of a nightmare when she walked into his room and stood over him. She was lucky that he hadn't shot out of the bed with his wand aimed at her chest.

It was odd hearing the incoherent ramblings in the professor's usually unvarying baritone. Not knowing what else to do Hermione fumbled to see through the pitch black, making out the faint outline of his hand hanging over the edge of the bed.

Gingerly reaching up she placed her fingers on his hand, shocked when Severus became stilled. It was the damnedest thing to Hermione; for a person that treated her with obvious indifference to become almost passive when she touched him, even if he was unaware that she was doing so.

Comforting her friends in the midst of sleep had been no strange thing to Hermione. The war had affected them all more deeply than they cared to admit. Many times when she, Ron, and Harry had shared a sleeping space, they'd been plagued with nightmares. There had been a few occasions that Ginny had even been frightened out of her sleep, her young mind still plagued from the time Tom Riddle had forced his will on her.

For Harry, it had been worse when he and Voldemort had linked minds. It was no strange occurrence when she or Ron had to shake him out of sleep when he began screaming. A few times she'd fallen asleep with her arms around him, comforting him as if he was a small child.

But she had to admit that she and Severus didn't have a bond like her and her best friends. It felt deviant, almost perverse to be holding the older wizard's hand in the thick of the night as she crouched beside his bed.

Thankfully Severus seemed to be sleeping more steadily now. Hermione was about to withdraw her hand when his fingers tightened around hers, causing her to gasp softly in surprise.

Frozen to her spot on the carpeted floor, Hermione kept her arm absolutely still. When Severus' grasp loosened slightly, she scooted back and leaned her body against the small bedside table. Hermione was crumpled up in an awkward position, but she didn't want to take away the small comfort the professor seemed to be gaining from her contact.

She'd never seen Severus' hands as they were always covered nearly to the knuckle with his long, tightly buttoned black sleeves. Now, to have his hands in hers was a different story altogether. Musing over the feel of his skin, Hermione found that despite the few calluses on the underside of his hand it felt quite soft.

His nails and cuticles didn't feel raggedy and picked at, unlike many men that she'd met. Hermione stifled a laugh remembering how her Mum had to occasionally force her father to sit down so she could go at him with a nail file and clippers.

Hermione suddenly felt tears falling down her face when she thought about her parents. Biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out, she was able to keep herself from bursting out into full fledged sobs when she tasted blood.

Quietly releasing a shuddering breath, Hermione leaned her head back on the nightstand and forced herself to calm down.

Severus' hand was now loosely enveloped in hers, but at least his breathing was steady. Feeling her left arm beginning to cramp, she deftly turned to lay flat on the carpet. The bed was low enough that she was able to rest her arm against the bed frame, keeping their hands entwined.

Without realizing it, Hermione soon fell into a sound sleep, curled up on the floor.

Hermione rolled over, burrowing her face further into her pillow. Feeling warmth dash across her face she opened to eyes to find morning sunlight pouring in through her window.

Despite not having slept steadily in awhile, she always relished the comfortable lethargy that was present after first waking up. Snuggling beneath the duvet, her sleep laced eyes caught notice of her cd player that was resting on her nightstand, the headphones lying to the side of it with the cord neatly bundled.

Frowning slightly Hermione remembered dropping it on the way to the loo during the night, but she couldn't recollect picking it up.

Her brown eyes suddenly widened when she realized that she was in her own bed, and not knowing how she'd gotten there.

'How the hell could I forget something like that?' she chided inwardly. She remembered falling asleep while holding hands with Severus, more like her clutching onto his. The floor hadn't been comfortable but she'd fallen asleep there anyway. Cringing with embarrassment, Hermione realized that he must have found her at some point and carried her back to her room.

Wondering what kind of expression was on his face when he'd saw her, Hermione found that she didn't want to know. Hearing her stomach growl in protest, she knew that breakfast was in order but was quite reticent to face the difficult man.

Hunger finally getting the best of her, Hermione crawled from her bed and went downstairs. She half expected to find the professor standing in her living room, wearing his teaching robes with his wand withdrawn and a murderous expression on his face.

Instead, she found him in the dining room, clad in his usual black suit and his head buried in another book. A large full English breakfast was on the table. From the looks of things, it appeared that the house elves had paid another visit.

"Good morning," she said cautiously, taking her place at the table.

"Miss Granger," he curtly greeted without looking up from his book.

'Okay,' Hermione thought to herself. 'I'll take that as he's not going to hex me.'

Eagerly digging into her food, Hermione noticed that the professor hadn't touch a single dish since she'd sat down.

"Are you going to have any?" she asked politely.

"I've already eaten," Severus answered abruptly. "Some of us aren't able to have a lie in whenever it strikes our fancy."

'Smarmy bastard,' Hermione thought to herself, pulling the pot of breakfast tea in front of her.

Unable to keep herself from bristling, Hermione wondered why she'd even bothered to open her mouth. Focusing back down on her meal, she popped a bite of sausage into her mouth.

Breakfast passed silently and uneventfully. Severus stalked off to the living room, still reading his book and pointedly ignoring Hermione.

For a brief second, Hermione wondered if how she felt at the moment was how Harry and Ron felt all of those times back at school when they were together and she ignored them, with her own head stuck in a book.

She'd been teased about it, more so from Ron, but it hadn't been malicious. Her best friends knew that she needed books like she needed air. Despite Hermione and the professor seeming to share the habit, she still felt a bit off kilter with his blatant attempt to ignore her presence. She needed to do something to keep her hands busy, even if her mind was preoccupied.

For the rest of the afternoon Hermione found herself tackling laundry that had been long neglected. She straightened up her already tidy room, and then moved onto the bathroom and kitchen.

The only time Severus made his presence known was when she opened the backdoor to step into the yard, causing the wards he'd placed to go off. She hadn't known about them, but he'd sharply come around the corner, grabbing her arm and demanding to know where she was going.

"I only needed some air!" she yelped, wrenching out of his grasp. She was still reeling from the fright of him stealthily moving behind her. His grip hadn't hurt, but she was still able to feel where his fingers pressed into her flesh.

"Well, next time say something before you attempt to saunter out of the house," he coldly replied, ignoring how Hermione rubbed at her arm. "The last thing I wish to do is to chase behind you."

"Are you going to be this charming once we get back to Hogwarts?" she blurted out, feeling her temper rising.

"I don't appreciate your cheek, Miss Granger."

"Well you're no walk in the park either, professor. I feel like an incompetent first year that's just blown up her cauldron beneath your glare!"

"Miss Granger-"

"No!" Hermione continued, ignoring the ire on the man's pale, pinched face. "You've behaved as if you have some vendetta against me. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, but I didn't make you come here therefore your anger is misdirected. I've been nothing but polite-"

"Is polite euphemism for skulking into my bedroom in the middle of the night?"

"That's only because I was trying to help you! You were screaming in your sleep, did you expect me to let you continue?"

"Quite the heroine complex you have, don't you Miss Granger?" Severus drawled with a venom laced voice, his black eyes coldly glittering. "I've told you once, and I'll tell you again-leave me alone. I don't need your damned help. If you need someone to coddle you'd fare well to call on those two idiot mates of yours."

"What?" Hermione asked, ready to stamp her foot in frustration. "You've told me what? And when was this? Clearly your wits are addled."

Severus' mouth grew in a tight line as he stared down the irate young witch. Without another word he sharply turned and left her alone standing on the deck.

Hermione was still fuming and completely confused. 'What the hell was that about?' she asked herself.

Hermione remained in her room for the rest of the evening. When dinnertime came around, Severus told her to come downstairs and she'd boldly ignored him. After a momentary stretch of silence her bedroom door flew open. Hermione was pinned to her bed by the murderous look on Snape's face.

"I'm not in the habit of repeating myself," he began. "Now, I said to go downstairs."

"I'm not hungry," Hermione replied, aware that she sounded like a petulant child.

"That wasn't a request, Miss Granger. You will do as I say or reap the consequences."

"Is that so?" she scoffed. "What are you doing to do, Imperius me to the dining room table? Levitate me into place?"

Hermione suddenly released a loud yelp when she noticed Severus moving in a black blur in the corner of her eye. Scrambling off the bed she found herself backed into a corner when he kept advancing on her.

"Now you listen, and listen well," he hissed, standing a hairsbreadth away from the young woman without actually touching her. "As much as I enjoy devoting my rare free evenings to a spoilt child, believe me, I am not above using any means to achieve results."

Hermione's amber eyes bore steadily into darker ones. Although she refused to blink, the slightest trembling in her body gave away the fit of nerves that suddenly appeared in the pit of her stomach.

"I will not say it again-go downstairs. If you want someone to hold your hand and wipe your nose, I'm sure Minerva will have no qualms with obliging you back at school. I will do no such thing. Now go."

Severus thought he would take some twisted pleasure in finding that the young witch had some fear of him, even if it was deeply rooted. He was impressed with her moxie when she stared right back at him instead of falling into a blubbering state. He'd felt a slight remorse, nonetheless.

But he'd already had a slip of the tongue in a fit of anger, and the last thing he wanted Hermione doing was questioning him. He figured if he insulted or frightened her, then maybe she'd steer clear of him.

'Not bloody likely,' he grumbled to himself, watching as she unflinchingly moved from the wall and careened out of her bedroom.

Hermione was rather docile at dinner. She barely had an appetite but forced down as much as she could stomach. Remembering the professor's threat on forcing her to eat, she didn't want to wait and see if he would carry it through.

Severus had also partaken in the evening meal, but Hermione was so intent on not looking in his direction that it she never noticed.

Hermione had never been so thankful to return to her room. After taking a hasty shower she changed into clean pajamas and crawled into bed. Unable to sleep, she lay in the dimly lit room, her eyes focused in the darkness.

It was a while before she heard the guest bedroom door shut, musing that she'd never heard Severus' footsteps on the stairs.

The man was positively cantankerous. If she didn't have more respect for McGonagall she'd have summoned the nerve to send her a Howler. Severus was supposed to be…helping if that was the word. The only thing he'd done was nitpick, belittle, and begrudge since he'd came to her house.

Although…she had to admit after a few steady meals the color had returned to her cheeks, and she didn't feel as lethargic as before. Hermione found that she didn't care; she still wouldn't give Severus the satisfaction to let him know that he did something altruistic, since he seemed to abhor such notions.

'To hell with him,' she thought bitterly. He could scream down the house for all she cared with his nightmares, she wouldn't bother him ever again. A niggling thought remained at the back of her mind. What had he meant when he told her to leave him alone? Hermione didn't remember him ever saying that to her, but he was adamant about the sentiment.

Feeling like an idiot having a mental one-sided conversation with herself, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to force herself to sleep.

Severus was disrupted from his own fitful sleep when a piercing scream rent the quiet air in the house. When he realized they were coming from Hermione's room he stay put in bed. Reasoning that he might have deserved the catharsis of her pent up wrath, he was still miffed at her for her little display in the back of the house.

The screaming now sounded like muffled sobs, and when they hadn't ceased, only then, did Severus yank his wand from beneath the pillow and roughly shove the duvet aside.

He'd protected the house with wards, much stronger and more advanced than the ones Hermione had used. Even so, he refused to be lulled into a false sense of security and always kept his wand on his person.

Wand lit and held in front of him, he made his way through the dark hallway. Pushing open Hermione's bedroom door open he walked over to her bed. Lowering his wand, he found that she was writhing slightly in tangled sheets, her damp curls sticking to a tear stained face.

"Miss Granger," he called out, trying to avoid actually touching the young witch. He called out her name two more times and became impatient when she didn't respond. At the end of his tether, he grabbed her shoulder and shook her slightly, causing the screams to die in her throat as her eyes snapped open.

Hermione immediately sat up in bed, tears still silently pouring down her face. "What happened?" she asked, her fit of hysterics seemingly ceasing.

"I should ask you the same question," Severus replied indifferently. "Your caterwauling was loud enough to wake the dead."

Hermione visibly cringed. Sometimes she was able to wake herself up in the midst of nightmares; other times she was unable to fight the terrors in her sleep. The only inkling she'd had afterwards was a wet face and a sense of something missing. Some dreams were vivid, and others were vague but still highly distressing. The vague dreams were the ones that she was never able to remember upon waking, and they were the ones that made her cry the most.

"I guess I was dreaming again," she offered in a cracking voice, using the edge of her sheets to dry her face.

She didn't notice when Severus' posture became slightly more rigid if it was possible. "What was it about?" he asked tightly.

"I-I can't remember," she confessed.

"Well, this is my attempt to extend the olive branch but if you insist on remaining peevish-"Severus replied, already turning to walk out of the room.

"I'm not being thick on purpose!" Hermione cried. "I really can't remember; that's the worse bit of it. I always wake up like this yet I can never remember why."

The professor remained standing awkwardly by her bedside, his glowing wand now lowered and illuminating the duvet.

"Would you mind staying, just for awhile?"

"Miss Granger, I hardly think it appropriate."

"Professor, after being threatened and chastised by you for the past few days, I'm sure it seems downright masochistic for me to ask. But believe me, if I have to choose between your acerbic tongue and the nightmares, well you're the lesser of the two evils."

"By all means, there's no need to mind your tongue," Severus drawled, although he perched stiffly on the very edge of Hermione's bed.

The two sat in pitch dark and uncomfortable silence. "Do you want to talk about what keeps you up at night?" Hermione asked, unsure of what to say.

"No," Severus answered in a clipped tone.

Hermione heaved a sigh, curling up into a tight ball beneath her duvet. "Professor…what happened on the night that, you know? How did you survive?"

"Miss Granger, if you insist on asking me asinine questions I'll be more than happy to leave you alone in the dark with your demons."

"All right, I'm sorry," she hastily amended. "I'm sure this seems terribly cliché, but this is almost like those novels my mum used to read. A young woman having a nightmare, and her hero sweeping in to make it all better."

"Well I can assure you that I'm no one's hero and if anything, I've been the giver of nightmares."

"Neville Longbottom can surely attest to that," Hermione lightly joked.

Severus suddenly heaved a sigh. "As charming as this visit is, I wish to go back to sleep. If you can keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night you can sleep in my room."

"Oh," Hermione replied, suddenly flummoxed. "Well, let me get my duvet-"

"I didn't mean for you to sleep on the floor, silly girl," he snapped. "I'm supposed to bring you back to Hogwarts in a fit condition; you catching your death of cold goes against such. Your bed is too small for us both."

"All right," Hermione conceded. His solution was decidedly strange but at that point she was desperate to have even a few peaceful hours of sleep.

"I'm warning you now; stay on your side, else I will hex you out of the bed. When morning comes this never happened. And if you tell anyone, I will obliviate you and whomever you blabber to without a second thought."

"Agreed," she readily replied, climbing out of bed and following behind Severus to the guest room.

Without another word the dour man climbed back into the left side of the bed, shoving his wand beneath the pillow and the duvet up to his head. Hermione took the right side, curled up with her back to her bedmate.

The two weren't touching but she was still able to feel remnants of his body heat. Hermione briefly wondered if he tended to dominate an entire bed throughout the course of the night as his scent was embedded into her pillows.

She'd caught a whiff of his essence when he'd first arrived at her house, but now she was able to hone in on it more. Besides the minty note that she'd already noticed, there was a lingering trace of what she guessed to be sandalwood and sage.

Severus' scent wasn't something that'd she ever thought to pay attention to, but, no doubt about it, the man smelled delicious. It was a rather disconcerting thought especially considering that they were now sleeping side by side.

If earlier someone told her she'd be in the position she was now, Hermione would have cheerfully signed herself into the mental ward at St. Mungo's. To further solidify the fact that she was most likely going mad, she found that despite the man insulting and nearly scaring the hell out of her, she drew a slight comfort in his presence.

'Oh, the sweet irony,' she grumbled inwardly.

Severus was now sleeping peacefully; although Hermione wouldn't have noticed it as she soon fell away into a deep slumber that was free of any further nightmares.
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Broken Dreams