It just...happened...

Now in the present Harry’s eyes were still and Hermione feared for the worst. She ran to side now after viewing the sudden stillness out of the corner of her heavy eyes.

She had been sitting with Ron nearby, and Ron himself had fallen into a comfortable sleep. Snape had left hours ago, muttering about having better things to do than baby-sit a bunch of idiotic Gryffindors.

“Harry.” Hermione said shakily, trying not to shake him but finding it increasingly hard. She wanted to slap him awake, tell him to stop toying with her…but he did not stir and she again felt her heart sink to the soles of her feet.

Ron suddenly appeared at her side, giving her a distanced pat on her shaking shoulders. She looked to him a moment, worried and gave him a tight hug, trying not to cry into his rigid shoulder.

“It’s okay Hermione.” He said mechanically, patting her back with a sharp and soft slap, “Don’t cry.”

Hermione pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as Ron winced. “I’m not.” She mumbled, looking back to Harry who looked too small in the big bed, not strong or protective like she thought…who would protect them when Voldemort came back? That thought was almost as scary as it was depressing.

“Damn Snape.” She suddenly muttered out of nowhere, crossing her arms in a fashion that was all too like the said prick. “He’s probably got something to do with this all.”

Ron gave her a suddenly bizarre look, “Are you quite serious?”

“I know I know.” Hermione said with a pondering gaze, “But he has always had a grudge out for Harry, and he’s an ex Deatheater…Conveniently he appeared just as Harry fell down the stairs.”

Ron shook his head, his dark red hair flying out as he gave Hermione an angry glare. “Do you honestly think Snape has enough smarts to do that? To defeat the Boy who lived? He doesn’t have what it takes.”

“Come off it Ron.” Hermione shot back, pushing him from her, Ron gave her a warning look and shrugged offhandedly.

“Face it, Snape couldn’t do it if he wanted to. He’s practically bound to Harry because of Dumbledore. Snape may be intimidating to children but to the Dark Lord he’s a mere follower. He couldn’t kill Harry if he wanted to.”

“I doubt it.” Hermione said with an irritated look shot at a suddenly fuming Ron.

“Listen Hermione.” Ron said with a fiery look in his normally light blue eyes, “Snape has done more for Harry Potter than you’ll ever know.”

“How would you know?” Hermione said scoffing as she looked down to her friend and back at the smirking Ron. He raised an eyebrow in a superior way and leaned against the wall. Hermione looked to him with sudden uninhibited interest.

“What do you know that I don’t Ron?”

Ron blew on his fingers and rubthemthem on his cloak and then motioned for her to follow him. When they were comfortably seated and no one else around could hear, Ron started.

“I know what happened between he and Voldemort last Christmas.”

Hermione’s mouth gaped open as Ron tried to hide a smirk of satisfaction. “Go on.” She said in an awed whisper. Ron nodded and said in a hurried rush, making sure no one would hear.

“Snape saved Harry from Voldemort last year. He came across Harry and Voldemort about to battle to the death and threw Harry behind him. Pretending like he was still a faithful Deatheater follower. ” Ron took a sip of his drink as Hermione clung onto his words, and so he continued “Snape shot some pathetic spell at Voldemort but he was too quick for them and then he just disappeared.”

“They didn’t even scratch him?rmiormione said disappointed. Ron shook his head, shrugging and offering a brash;

“No. Suppose Voldemort was too strong.”

Hermione didn’t answer, but instead looked down to her clasped hands. She was definitely worried now. If Snape himself haven’t even been able to touch the dark lord, what were they going to do when one of the biggest links was laying unconscious in a hospital bed, just waiting to be killed?

She walked over to Harry again, thinking over what Ron had said. So Snape really was a good person…for some of the time. He had saved Harry when he could have helped bump him off and merely claimed he hadn’t been able to help.

He deserved some credit. Not much, but some.


Harry moaned loudly in his sleep, clawing at the air and looking paler than usual. Madame Pomfrey came rushing down the infirmary wringing her hands.

“Here Harry.” She said, knowing full well that she couldn’t be heard. She shoved some purple liquid down Harry’s throat and Hermione saw his eyes return to their placid state. She left a moment later, telling Hermione and Ron to come back tomorrow as it was very late and they had classes in the morning.

Hermione and Ron had nodded, telling her they would and as Ron left Hermione gave Harry a small loving peck on the cheek, choking back her tears.

She was determined not to cry in front of everyone in the stupid infirmary, just to have Harry awake and laugh at her overflowing emotions. But he did not awaken.

And would not, for a long time.

* * *

A few days later Hermione was disturbed to hear that Dumbledore would be leaving for a few weeks, she had heard it through the grapevine and was furious at his cowardice.

‘Leaving just when we need him most.’ She fumed furiously, making her way to Transfigurations class, shoving her bookbag strap onto her shoulder for the fiftieth time in the past hour.

She sat down in her usual spot at the front of the class and waited for Ron…and waited…and waited. McGonagal was about to start the lesson when he finally did stride into class, giving Hermione a stern gaze before sitting in the back.

Next to Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy sat a few feet away at another table, and he gave the two of them an odd look of questioning which they ignored. Malfoy caught Hermione’s also questioning look and shot her a face of puzzlement that she shrugged back at. Ron hanging around with the likes of Slytherin?

Ron was becoming more and more bizarre.

- - -

Potions class was straight from hell, and Hermione waited as the clock passed the minutes that signaled her escape from torment.

Snape had been particularly cruel lately, knowing she was extremely emotionally vulnerable. He had made sure to remind her of the detention she owed, and would owe for exactly two weeks…all for calling him a greasy git. Bullocks.

“Miss Granger.” Snape snapped at her, looking at her with obvious tired irritation. Hermione shot a look of sudden focus, trying not to daydream right in front of him. “Do pay attention, you’re spilling your wormwood all over the floor.”

Hermione nodded wordlessly and began focusing more on her task at hand, trying not to think about poor frail Harry in the infirmary.

Neville made a hissing sound of distaste as his cauldron began to sizzle itself. Hermione looked back to him a moment, mouthing directions and making sure he was moderately fine before looking up to see if Snape was paying attention to them.

He was.

A surly glance from Snape told her most definitely not to help Neville anymore, but she just couldn’t help it. She had gotten into so much trouble in the past about it, it seemed stupid to help him.

Neville let out a small muffled whimper and Hermione turned enough to make out the angry tears that started at the corners of his eyes, and the face that was flushed with frustration.

Snape sighed and determinedly stood, waltzing over to the direction of the hushed whisper telling Neville to crush the nettles, not to cut them up.

“MISS GRANGER!” he roared directly behind her. She jumped a bit, startled and looked up to him with an obviously guilty look.

“Er…professor.” Hermione started, trying to find a suitable lie to blind him with. “I was…”

“Your detention will begin at five o’clock this evening Miss Granger instead of the previously scheduled seven.” Snape said with a bored look shot in her direction, Hermione hung her head angrily, balling her hands into fists at her side as she reluctantly offered a small,

“Yes sir.”

Snape smirked, glad to see that the silly little girl was learning her lesson and caught sight of a trembling Neville out of the corner of his eyes.

“Longbottom…You’ll be joining her.”

With that he swished away, his contemptuous smirk the only sign of what lay ahead as he sat down at his desk, looking sideways to the two of them, looking more withdrawn than ever.

Class ended what seemed like hours later, as Hermione and Neville packed and prepared to walk out together, hastily trying to make their way out of the room. Snape caught sight of that and held in a laugh, instead opting for a frown and an order.

“Granger, Longbottom, a word.”

Hermione and Neville looked to him with hope in their eyes, perhaps he would take back the said detention! There was hope for the sullen bastard after all! Neville himself looked like he would wet himself, and Snape hoped with an air of disgust that he wouldn’t.

“Yes professor?” Hermione, the brave one asked, trying to hold in her desire to leave immediately, to escape those boring eyes. Eyes that went right into you and took your breath away.

“Longbottom,” Snape said ignoring Hermione as Neville jerked his plump head upwards, meeting the cruel gaze of Snape. “You’ll be meeting Filch at five o’clock this evening, he’ll give you something to do. Meet him in front of the great hall. Now get out of my sight.”

Neville nodded, and scurried out of the classroom, his eyes downcast as he slammed the door behind him. Ruddy imbecile.

There was a quiet silence in the room as the two intelligent but stubborn people in the room surveyed each other with distant observation.

“I suppose I’ll be helping Filch as well?” Hermione said hollowly, not really looking at him but past him. Snape took his time to look at Hermione, making her squirm uncomfortably before speaking himself.

“No. You Miss Granger will be assisting me tonight. Arrive in front of this chamber door at five o’clock sharp. We’ll take it from there.”

Silence…until.

“Anything else?” Hermione asked with crossed arms and a look of bottled fury leaking out from her dark eyes. Snape didn’t seem to impressed.

He leaned back without a look of amusement at all, more a tolerated look of boredom and spoke in a lazy, languid tone.

“Don’t be late.”