A Very Horrible Idea?

The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the rest of the students into the Potions classroom. As they sat down at the back, Ron looked around, "Where is he?"

Harry, obviously busy thinking of something else, frowned, "What?"

"Where's Snape -"

Two hands slammed down on their desk and Ron jumped away from the sneering face that was inches from his own, "Twenty points from Gryffindor. And that's Professor Snape to you, Weasley."

Snape's eyes flickered towards Hermione, who was seated on Ron's right, before he straightened up and moved to the front of the room. Hermione gave Ron a look that perfectly expressed the words 'How many times do I have to tell you?'.

Hermione had decided to keep her head down for a while. The last week was something she never wanted to repeat, and that meant keeping out of Snape's way as much as was humanly possible. Ron being an idiot and getting in trouble with the Potions Master didn't help one bit!

She just wanted him to forget about any detentions he may wish to give her and perhaps find a Slytherin to hate more. But that was probably impossible; he hated her too much and the only person he had the possibility of hating more was Harry.

Hermione didn't even understand why Snape disliked her so much. She had never done anything to him... except setting him on fire, stealing from him and, of course, trying to disarm him at the same time as Harry and Ron in the Shrieking Shack, resulting in his unconsciousness. But there had been good reasons for all of those things; they had not been personal attacks against him… Well, the stealing hadn’t been. They couldn't have inspired the sort of hatred he held for her, could they?

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Severus finished speaking and sat down behind his desk. The potion they were going to be attempting to brew was one that would have them working in groups and would keep them occupied, so that he had time to... well, stare, to be honest.

He watched as she told Potter and Weasley what to do, looking exasperated with their lack of listening skills. She started to make the potion as the boys looked on with bewilderment.

On the table in front of them, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were doing most of the work, as Malfoy turned around and said something to Potter. While her two best friends argued with the blonde, Granger carried on with what she was doing, sending a few glances of displeasure towards the three boys.

Malfoy turned around fully and leaned over their table, as Granger reached across to get something. Severus couldn't quite see what had happened, but the next thing he knew there was a sharp scream; immediately, Weasley launched himself at Malfoy, shouting incoherently, while the blonde laughed and Parkinson, who was looking over his shoulder, cackled.

Frowning, Severus stood up and hurried towards the back of the room as the rest of the class bunched around the scene. As people began to scream, a Ravenclaw boy turned to Severus, "She's stuck, Professor! He stabbed her!"

Finding it almost impossible to breath, Severus pushed through the crowd of watching students. Ronald Weasley, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were in a heap on the floor, fists and legs flying everywhere, as Pansy Parkinson cheered for the Slytherins like a demented monkey. Potter was bending over the desk that Granger was now sitting on; she looked as if she was about to pass out.

"What...? Should I... p-pull it -" Potter asked.

She shook her head frantically, "No, Harry! Don't touch it!"

Roughly, Severus shoved the boy out of the way and was momentarily speechless, before he took a deep breath, "Get out! All of you! Now!"

The students scrambled for the door; Malfoy sauntered out with Parkinson and Zabini close by, obviously thinking he had got away with it. He was so wrong; Severus would never, ever be able to help him out of this and neither did he want to. That boy had gone way too far this time - Severus actually wanted to murder him.

Potter and Weasley gave their pale friend sympathetic looks as she stayed sitting on the desk, but she shook her head, "Just go... I'll see you later."

Weasley was staring in horror, "No, Hermione -"

Severus cut in, "Get out! Both of you!" Hesitantly, the boys left the room. Once the door was closed, Severus looked down at the desk. He sighed and looked at the knife that was standing out from the back of her hand, "Has it gone all the way through?"

She nodded, breathing heavily and blinking hard, tears very close to falling, "Yes..."

Feeling like he was having some kind of heart attack, Severus leaned closer to her hand - the hand that Draco Malfoy had pinned to the table with a knife. The blade had passed all the way through her hand and was wedged in the wood of the desk under her palm.

He looked up at her, maintaining eye contact as he curled one hand around the handle of the knife and pulled his wand out with the other, "Alright, Miss Granger. I'm just going to -"

He pulled the knife out sharply, not giving her a chance to get too anxious. She hadn't expected it and gasped, lifting her now-free hand instinctively. Blood poured from the hole and, after putting the knife down quickly, Severus grasped her wrist, pulling her hand toward him. Pointing his wand at the wound, he murmured healing spells until it started to close up.

Severus looked up; she was very pale. As he looked her over carefully, her eyes rolled and she fell forward. Severus caught her and... Stilled.

She was doing it on purpose; every time he tried to get rid of his new interest in her, she did something that made it even stronger... Like wearing cauldron earrings and practically fainting in his lap!

But Severus couldn't be angry right now - not even with Malfoy - because he was sure he was having his first ever panic attack. He looked at the back of her hand and then turned it over to check her palm. There was a small cut on each side, but it looked like he had healed the worst of it.

He stood there, holding her limp body against his, and the seconds ticked by as he tried to sort himself out. The thought of what had just happened made him feel sick; she had actually been hurt. In his class. In his care.

He knew that Malfoy hated her and had often tried to hex her, but he had never been so... physical. Stabbing a knife threw someone’s hand so that it pinned them to a table was something that Severus thought was too... muggle-like for Malfoy to use, but apparently not.

Severus looked down at the desk. She had lost a fare amount of blood. He contemplated taking her to see Poppy, but something inside - perhaps guilt, or maybe just plain obsessiveness - protested.

He swept the hair away from one side of her neck and gently stroked over the tiny silver earring, then traveled down to touch the thin gold chain around her neck.

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Hermione sighed and opened her eyes, blinking a few times. She recognized her location by some nasty things in jars, although she didn't recall the sofa she was laying on ever being in Snape's office.

And what was she doing there anyway? Shouldn't she be in the Hospital Wing?

Slowly, and somewhat anxiously, Hermione lifted her hand and turned it over a few times. It was sore, but the cut had been closed and there wasn't even a scar.

She let out a shaky breath. Why had Malfoy done that? She hadn't even provoked him! But then again, when did Draco Malfoy ever need a specific reason to try and hurt her?

Carefully, Hermione sat up, but there was a voice from behind her that made her jump, "Make a fist."

Glancing back at Snape, Hermione obeyed and winced; at least she knew there was no nerve damage or anything that would restrict movement. She stood up and turned to face the Potions Master, her fingers jumping immediately to her ear. Something felt different with the movement, but she didn't have time to think on it now.

She was about to speak, but he got there first and said with a speculative look, "I didn't know you were religious, Miss Granger."

Hermione frowned, "I'm not..." Then she followed his gaze down the little gold crucifix that had fallen out of the neck of her robes, "Oh, no. I'm not religious. It was my Aunt's; she left it to me when she died..." She shifted uncomfortably, still playing with her ear, "Anyway, thank you for looking after me, Professor. Really... And I'm sorry for passing out on you like that."

He scowled at her, "Well, perhaps you can leave now and stop taking up my valuable time."

"Of course, " She sighed, moving to the door. She opened it and looked back, "Thank you, Professor."