The Fortress Within

Severus was already seated in the Great Hall when Hermione came in the
next day for breakfast


Severus was already seated in the Great Hall when Hermione
came in the next day for breakfast.  The
first thing he noticed about her were the dark circles under her eyes. 
They were the first thing he had noticed, himself, in the mirror earlier
that morning.
 


Albus, being Albus, had manipulated the seating so that the
only open seat was next to Severus.  Hermione
slid into the empty space and spoke quietly. “Cappuccino.” 
Almost instantly, a steaming mug was in front of her. 
 


Severus was exhausted and out of sorts. 
Unconsciously, his sarcastic nature took over. “I hope you’re going
to eat something, you look like hell, Hermione.” He hissed almost under his
breath.
 


She turned her wide eyes towards him, 
“Pardon me, Severus; but what are you having for breakfast?” 
She eyed his cup of black coffee pointedly.
 


“I was just going to order something, allow me. 
2 Eggs fried, bacon, toast.  2
orders.”  In the blink of an eye,
steaming plates sat in front of each of them. 
 


Hermione gave him a dirty look.  “If you don’t mind, I am perfectly capable of ordering my
own breakfast.  Thank you very much! 
Blueberry pancakes, sausage, fried potatoes, 2 orders.” 
More dishes laden with food appeared on top of the first order.
 


Severus raised one eyebrow and gave her a scathing look. 
She had her jaw set, and it appeared she was not going to back down for a
second.  Suddenly, her hand flashed out toward him. 
He instinctively flinched away from her movement, only to see her swipe a
piece of bacon from his plate.  A
devilish smile was on her face.
 


“Glad to see we’ve settled that.”  He said gruffly, as he picked up his fork. 
He had suddenly found his appetite.
 


The exchange had largely gone unnoticed by the rest of the
table.  Nothing escaped the
Headmaster, though.  “Hermione, I
trust that you have gotten settled in and that your quarters are to your
liking.”
 


She swallowed the bite of egg she was working on before
answering him, “Yes, Albus, they are fine. 
Thank you.”
 
Why Why ever you would want to move down into the cold damp
dungeons is beyond me, Hermione.”  Poppy
Pomfrey looked questioningly at her, awaiting an explanation.
 


Hermione’s mind was still searching for one when Albus
leaned over and whispered something in the Medi-witch’s ear. 
Poppy’s eyes grew wide and she looked quickly between Severus and
Hermione, before looking back at her plate, a blush creeping across her cheeks. 
 


Hermione looked at Severus and shrugged her shoulder. 
They both noticed, that as the meal progressed, the other staff members
were whispering.  Suddenly, Severus and Hermione felt like they were on
display.  Everyone was taking quick
looks at them and flashing around knowing smiles.  Just what everyone else knew was escaping the Potions Master
and DADA professor.
 


The small group broke up and the staff began to, one by
one, leave the table to begin their day.  When
Albus rose to leave, Severus pinned him back to his chair with a nasty look. 
Soon, only Albus, Severus, and Hermione remained.
 


As the door to the Great Hall shut, Severus turned on the
Headmaster.  “Just what, pray
tell, did you tell that gossiping witch?”
 


Albus bit down the smile trying to escape, “Well, I
couldn’t very well tell her that I had housed my resident Deatheaters in the
dungeons, could I??  No, I ’t
’t
think so.  I just implied that the
relationship between the two of you was more personal than professional and that
I imagined you wanted some private time together.”
 


Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands. 
Severus’ reaction was just as bleak. 
He growled at the Headmaster, “Albus, how could you tell her that. 
My reputation with my colleagues is not exactly untarnished without
adding ‘affair with a student’ to it.”
 


As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his
error.  Hermione turned on him and
he half expected to see his dark smirk on her face.  No, this was the Gryffindor Hermione; and the lioness was
furious.  “Student, did you just
call me a student?  I am not your
student.  And believe you me, you
overgrown bat, you could do a lot worse than having the staff thinking your
sleeping with ME.  On the other
hand, any hope for my future relationships is ruined now. 
Gods, the concubine of Severus Snape.”
 


His eyes narrowed at that implication. 
“Better Severus Snape than Lucius Malfoy, wouldn’t you say?” he
fired at her in a haughty tone.
 


She was on her feet and running from the room before he
could even process the words that had flown from his mouth. 
The slamming door echoed, seeming to reverberate around the room forever.
 


Worried furrows were etched across Albus’ face as he
turned to Severus.  “I thought,
Severus, that you were intelligent enough to know you cannot provoke her
anymore.”
 


“I am not accustomed to being spoken to like that from
anyone, especially not a colleague,” Severus attempted to defend himself. 
But he knew Albus was right.
 


“No, you’re the one who runs roughshod over everyone
else’s feelings.  Whether it be
staff or student, friend, foe, or stranger. 
No one is ever as important as the great Potions Master.  I suggest that you reexamine your attitude towards Hermione. 
It’s not just your life at stake if this plan fails. 
It’s yours, hers, and everyone else’s at this school’s. 
I believe it is prudent that I am kept out of the planning at this stage
of the operation.  When the two of
you have formed out a plan to bring down Voldemort, inform me of what is needed
on my part.”  The elder wizard
rose to leave.  “Fix this
situation now.”
 


Severus sat alone in the Great Hall, not sure how to
proceed.  He would rather experience
Crucio for days on end, than have to try and deal with Hermione Granger’s
fragile emotional state right now.  His
confusion also had him feeling a bit vulnerable himself. 
 


He could not delay things any further. 
He made his way up to the DADA classroom. 
He knocked on the door, unsure as to who was waiting behind it.
 


When there was no answer, he edged the door open and peered
around the corner.  He could see
Hermione Granger standing in front of the window, her back to him. 
She had her robes wrapped tightly around her small frame, and seemed to
be shivering despite the hot August temperatures.
 


He took a deep breath and slipped quietly into the room. 
“Hermione?” He inquired cautiously.
 


She spun round from the window.  He could now see the tracks her tears left down her cheeks. 
Despite her obvious upset, she raised her chin proudly. 
“Come to gloat, have we?” 
 


“No, we have come to apologize, once again. 
I’m sorry for the comment downstairs. 
Dammit, I’m sorry for the whole bloody morning. 
I’m not used to having to work with someone, and I fear that my
temperament just isn’t cut out for it.  Please,
let’s try one more time to establish some sort of level playing field here.”
 


She pulled a chair near the window, and sat down in the
sunshine that was streaming in.  She
still huddled in her robes against a non-existent chill, although the tremors
had passed.  She motioned for him to
take a seat.
 


For a long while, neither of them spoke. 
Hermione’s brows knit and un-knit; her mouth opened and shut several
times.  She seemed to need to say
something, but did not know how. Severus did not press her, just sat silently
and waited.
 


“I know I’m pretty screwed up right now. 
I am aware of my actions.  I
know it seems that I am hiding during the bad stuff, and maybe I am; but I still
see, hear, feel….Gods, even taste everything that is going on. 
It’s still me, even though it’s not.”
 


“It’s getting harder, though, every time. 
Harder to become me again; harder to control myself. 
I’m terrified that one of these days I won’t be able to come back. 
It’s just going to be her, and I’m going to be caught in Potions
Class forever.”
 


Severus hadn’t been sure she knew exactly what was going
on or that she knew he did as well.  It
was a relief that he could speak now, somewhat openly about it all. 
“Why me, Hermione, why did you pick me?”
 


She giggled at his expression.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Severus.  I never fancied myself in love with you or anything. 
It’s just that, throughout school, no matter what was going on, your
class was always just there.  It
was a constant; every lesson sounded the same, no matter what the subject. 
You were always a nasty git, never any kind of a mood swing. 
Things always were the same, unwavering.”
 


He smiled wryly at this description, “I had no idea that
I was so boring.”
 


“Oh, no, Severus,” she rushed to rectify her words. 
“You were never boring.  You
were always just you.  Strong,
proud, commanding, intelligent, and unfeeling. 
Even after I knew about your other life, I could never picture you as
truly caring about anything.  You
were always constant.”
 


She was leaning forward now; looking at him, her face
filled with hope.  He teased her
gently, “I understand, Hermione.  Thank
you for that.  That’s much better
for me to stomach than a lovesick Gryffindor.”
 


She rolled her eyes heavenward, “As if.” 
Then collapsed back into her seat in a fit of laughter. 
After a moment, she realized he was laughing along with her. 
She looked at him oddly, brows knitting again, “I’m not sure I have
ever heard you laugh before.  I
don’t think I ever thought you capable.”
 


“I can guarantee that if you attempt to share the
information, no one will believe you.”
 


She smiled slightly at this, “Don’t worry, we all have
our nasty little secrets.”
 


Both seemed at a loss again, unable to proceed. 
Severus had so many questions that needed to be answered, but was afraid
if he pushed her, she would retreat.  
Before he could pose another question, she spoke up.
 


“I meant what I said last night.  About it being nothing personal. 
It won’t be.  You haven’t
been around the revels for a while, so you don’t know the way it is for me. 
Yes, everyone is afraid of me. I have asserted my powers. 
Everyone but Lucius and Voldemort, that is. 
To them, I’m almost a pet.  Lucius
considers me his private whore, to divvy out my favors as he sees fit.  He really gets his jollies sometimes by watching me perform
with other men.  Voldemort thinks
it’s great fun to pit the other Deatheaters against me, to test their
strengths.  The bloodier, the
better.  At least, I’ve been able
to reduce the ranks a bit during these arranged fights.”
 


Her troubled eyes met his, “I don’t know if or when
either one of those bastards will see fit to toss me together with you, either
as a whore or opponent.  You and I
will do what we have to do.  I will
not hold you responsible for anything that you do to me.”
“Nor I you,” he answered her with his eyes as much as
his words.
 


She seemed satisfied with that response. 
Once again, silence filled the room. 
It was a less awkward silence, though. 
More that of two people sharing company, not just sharing space.
 


“When do we start to plan?” he asked simply enough.
 


She started at the sound of his voice and he noted the
frightened edge her eyes took on.  She
started to struggle with herself; he could see it now. 
She fought for control.  Finally,
Hermione won.  “Not now, we’ll
talk later, in the dungeons.  After
supper.  Is that OK with you? 
I have a lot of work to do here, and the mornings been taxing already.”
 


He rose to leave.  He
spoke in the low soothing voice Hermione responded to, “That’s fine,
Hermione.  You get your work done
and when you’re ready, we talk.”
 


He made his way to the door, her following closely behind. 
He turned and looked down at her.  He
quelled the urge to reach out and touch her cheek. 
“I don’t need to see her flinch from me, yet again.” 
“I’ll see you at lunch, Hermione.”
 


“Yes, Severus.”
 


He could not help but notice, that as soon as the door
shut, he heard the sound of it being locked and warded.  For some reason, that disturbed him, although he couldn’t
quite grasp why.
 


He made his way to the dungeon.  He, too, had preparations to make before the start of
classes.  “Might as well get
started on them now.”


 


He worked all morning in the dungeons. 
He was a bit concerned that she did not appear at lunch and afterwards,
made his way to the kitchens.  The
house elves informed him that she had called for a tray to be brought to her
classroom.
 


This placated him a bit and he made his way back to his own
rooms. 
 


Later in the day, before the evening meal, he was seated in
his private quarters, reading the latest ‘Potions Monthly’ when he heard the
sound of someone trying to enter his rooms. 
He heard a voice call to him, “Open the damn door, Snape.”
 


With a flick of his wand, he released the wards. 
Hermione Granger strode into the room. 
She wore black jeans and a black formfitting button down. 
Only the last two buttons were done up. 
She waited for no invitation, just walked in and threw herself down in a
chair.  One long leg draped itself
over the arm of the chair. 
 


She eyed him suspiciously, up and down, before speaking. 
“I thought you were setting the wards to recognize me?”
He fought to keep his face from showing any of the shock
his mind was registering.  "I thought that I had, but obviously
something went wrong.  If I may?" he gestured to his wand.
She nodded, “Just don’t screw it up again.”
 


He pointed his wand toward her and then toward his door,
mumbling the spells.  He had set the
wards last night, to recognize Hermione Granger.
 


The woman sitting in his leather chair stretched languidly,
arching her back. 
 


This was NOT Hermione Granger.