Broken & Abused

Snape had picked up a book and settled in one of the arm chairs, waiting for her to wake up. When eight o’clock came around and she had not roused, he had two plates of dinner brought up from the kitchens. He sat down on the edge of the couch looking down at her face. It was almost peaceful, except for how her forehead would wrinkle every now and then. Hermione’s eyes fluttered open when he brushed her hair out of her face.

“If you keep wrinkling your forehead like that, you’re going to get worry lines.” Snape stood as she sat up. “What are you dreaming about that has you so worried?”

Hermione looked down are her hands. “I need to cut my nails again. They’re getting too long.” She continued to stare at the palms of her hands.

“That’s what has you so worried? Why do you need to trim your nails? They’re not that long.” Snape looked rather confused when Hermione finally looked up at him.

“Because I clench my fists in my sleep a lot.” She replied looking away from his face; suddenly finding the fabric of the blanket fascinating. Snape sat back down on the couch next to her. When she did not move he took her hands in his and turned them palm up. Each palm had four cuts in the shape of fingernails. They were not by any means deep or life threatening. But they were just enough to draw blood. He pulled out the handkerchief from before and wiped the blood off each hand in turn.

“Maybe you should wear gloves to sleep.” Snape smiled at her. “You just need something to hold on to something so you can’t dig into your palm; maybe a stuffed animal or something like that.”

Hermione smiled back at him. “I guess I could try that. I don’t have a stuffed animal, but I could roll up a sweatshirt.”

“So, um, while you were sleeping, Professor Dumbledore dropped by. I didn’t tell him everything, but I had to tell him something. He’s agreed to not interfere for now as long as you continue to talk with me. Once a week, just to check up on things and make sure you’re not cutting anymore. As long as you do not cut anymore, he won’t take control of the situation. So when would you like to meet each week?”

“How much did you tell him?” Hermione tried to back away from him but was trapped by the blanket wrapped around her.

“I didn’t tell him why. But I had to tell him what was going on. He came in and you were asleep on my couch and your dress shirt was on my classroom floor. I simply told him you had been under a fair amount of stress for a few years and had started cutting.”

“Okay. Well I don’t really care when we meet. I don’t really do anything anymore.”

“Alright, then just stay after potions class and we’ll chat. Now, on to business: what are you cutting with?”

Hermione looked taken aback. “I just use magic.” ‘Please don’t think I’m lying. I hadn’t planned on him taking away my razor blades.’ She fidgeted with the blanket, not looking up at Snape.

He saw the lie in her eyes and took a step away from her. “I think I’ll just step this way. Just incase you get struck by lightning for that lie. Magic wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you crave. Now, what do you use?”

She sighed in defeat. ‘Leave it for me to get caught by the only person in this bloody castle that used to cut.’ “Razor blades.” Slumping back down on the couch she pulled the blanket around her and started to pout.

“May I ask why you are pouting?”

“Because I hadn’t counted on you taking my razor blades. I don’t like not having them around.”

“I know. But you’ll get over it. Hand them over.”

“I don’t have them with me?”

“Try again.”

Hermione sighed and reached into a pocket inside her skirt. Pulling out the blades she placed them in Snape’s hand.

“You missed dinner. I had some food brought up from the kitchens.”

“I’m not hungry. I’ll see you next week Professor.” With that Hermione left for her rooms.