Chapter Seven: Soul Searching

Disclaimer: The characters and settings within belong to J.K.Rowling. I am just giving them a little outing.

Chapter Seven: Soul Searching

"The poor man. How he suffered for his bravery."

"He did, and few realised it until after the war was over. Severus Snape worked alone – his only hope lay in the young girl he had entrusted with his good name. Now, put your dress on, then I will tell you some more."

After a few days resting, Snape was physically recovered. He never spoke of the night he had been beaten, and Hermione respected his silence. She would often catch him staring into space, expression blank, eyes alone revealing the depth of his misery. She could not find the words to help lift his depression at those times and simply enveloped the suffering man in her warmth and compassion, holding him close until he relaxed and returned to himself.

Over the next week, his episodes of depression were less frequent as his iron control reasserted itself. The two spent the days reading and researching, each respecting the other's need for secrecy, and sharing simple but delicious meals cooked by Motty, whose obvious delight at having someone to serve finally shattered Hermione's notions of unwanted slavery. Their conversations continued as if they were still at Hogwarts, and their friendship deepened into an abiding sense of belonging. In some strange way Severus Snape and Hermione Granger had become family.

The day eventually arrived when Snape came downstairs dressed in his coat and Death Eater robes.

"Do you really have to go back?" Hermione watched as he fastened the heavy, silk robes.

"I must. If I do not return as expected he will suspect duplicity. It is essential I maintain the appearance of his devoted minion." He spat the last word with a sneer for all its implications.

"Even after what happened?" She saw the flicker of apprehension before he controlled his features.

"Especially after what happened. A good Death Eater returns after such, kisses his hem, and says thank you," he muttered. "I will be expected to act as if nothing had occurred."

"Can you, Severus?"

"I have no choice."

Suddenly, realising she may not see him again for some time, if ever, Hermione threw herself into his arms. "Oh, please be careful, Severus. I don't want to lose you!"

Long arms enfolded her in the fullness of his cloak. "Hush, little one. I will come back. You still have the chocolate wrapper?" At her silent nod he continued. "Try not to contact me unless it is urgent. I'll be in touch. You may stay here as long as you wish and return whenever you need to. I've reset the wards to allow you free entry. Now, be a brave girl and let me go do my job, hmm?"

Hermione took a deep breath and stiffened her spine. "Yes. I understand. You have your task to perform, as I have mine. The sooner we get on with them, the sooner this damned war will be over." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Take care."

Her ex-teacher smiled as his hand brushed his cheek. "I shall, my dear."

For the next few days, Hermione moped around the cottage, but despite Motty's cheerful attentions it just was not the same. Making a decision, she went up to her room and stowed the books and other items she had brought with her into the small, beaded purse she had enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. It was time to join the Weasleys at the Burrow. Harry was turning seventeen soon, and she needed to find out what had been happening while she had been away.

The events of the next few weeks drove all thoughts of the cottage from Hermione's mind. Harry's dramatic escape from Privet Drive, Mad-Eye Moody's death, and George's near miss at Snape's hand had brought home to the three young people how important their task was. Privately, Hermione did not believe for a moment Snape was deliberately trying to kill George, but she kept that opinion strictly to herself.

Molly's obvious strategy to keep them apart over the next few days did not stop Hermione making plans of her own. Her beaded bag was fully packed with clothing, books, and other necessary items, even a tent, and never left her side. Harry's increasing awareness of Voldemort's activities concerned her greatly, especially as he appeared to be playing down the impact the mental intrusions were having. Dumbledore's bequests of the old Snitch, the Deluminator, and the book were typically obscure, but Hermione was confident their meanings would be revealed eventually.

Her joy at Ron's open admiration of her appearance at the wedding was rapidly quenched by the arrival of the Death Eaters and their subsequent rapid flight. Luck was with her as she Obliviated their pursuers in the dingy café; neither Harry nor Ron had thought to question why she was unsure about the spell when she had supposedly successfully performed a far more complex memory modification on her parents.

Arriving at Grimmauld Place and finding the entrapments set for Snape brought a chill to her heart as once again she was faced with his isolation from all those who may have cared or at least been remotely interested in his well-being. Harry's threats of what he would do to the dark wizard should he come across him saddened her further, knowing she could not defend her friend. Even the discovery of who R.A.B was failed to lift the cloud of anxiety that kept her awake until the early hours of the morning. She had not had any messages from Snape and had no way of knowing whether he was safe. The risk of betraying him to his fellow Death Eaters by way of the chocolate wrapper was too great to use it as a means of alleviating her own concern.

Harry took to sneaking out under the Invisibility Cloak after they had been at Grimmauld Place for some weeks. His restlessness could not be confined, despite the watchers outside. Trips to replenish their supplies and steal newspapers were a sop to his need to do something.

The Daily Prophet Harry brought back after one such trip on the first of September may have astounded the boys, but under the cover of a completely out of character rant, Hermione managed to run off to another room before the grin took over her face entirely. Snape was safe and, if the newspaper was correct, would be ensconced at Hogwarts as headmaster where he could do the most good protecting the children there. Once she had reined in her jubilation, she returned to the kitchen with the painting of Phineas Nigellus she had taken off the wall, which provided a reason for her sudden disappearance.

Are you safe? Finally, the long awaited message warmed her heart as the foil heated her hand. She had not long retired to her bedroom after a long discussion with the boys about the news of the day.

Yes. And you?

As was I until I was able to contact you. I have to go; someone is coming up to my office. Be safe.

The wrapper grew cold in her hand, but her smile lingered far into the night.

***

The mission to the Ministry of Magic to retrieve the locket-Horcrux had been a partial success.

Leading Yaxley back to Grimmauld Place had left them without a base of operations, and they still had no idea how to destroy the Horcrux itself. Hours spent poring over books brought Hermione no closer to the answer. The food situation was dire; mushrooms and berries were hardly adequate nutrition for three teenagers as autumn marched on. Once or twice Hermione managed to have some time alone to forage for food. A quick visit to the cottage provided her with supplies she could pass off as bought at a local farm as long as she was careful to only take bread and eggs or other simple food items. To her disappointment, she did not see Snape at the cottage, but she left him a note each time she visited to let him know she was well.

Ron had left. The stupid, ever-hungry, red-headed prat had left. Their lack of progress in finding any further Horcruxes and the negative impact of the one they carried had taken a harsh toll on the boy. His final outburst before his sudden departure had saddened and disheartened both Hermione and Harry. The bindings holding their friendship together were unravelling before their eyes, and there was little they could do to prevent it. Any hope she had had of a relationship with Ron had departed that day with the young man himself.

Phineas Nigellus's portrait kept them up to date with the silent rebellion led by Ginny, Neville, and Luna at Hogwarts. Hermione smiled as she read Severus's updates on the havoc her friends were creating, even as she worried over his ability to protect them, and his cover, from the Carrows. He had been contacting her twice weekly, usually at night. Often only brief comments, but they were welcomed by the young witch as a sign he was well and safe.

They've done it again. Painted ridiculous caricatures of the Carrows on the corridor walls. I managed to surreptitiously cast an Impervious Charm over the wall so the vicious bastards couldn't remove it, but it will only last a few days. Pity.

Sent the troublemakers off to Hagrid for detention. I'm sure he can find something useful for them to do. Alecto and Amycus are both terrified of the Forbidden Forest; perhaps I should have made them help supervise?

Hermione giggled as the words faded. Snape had a wicked sense of humour hidden under all that glowering. No doubt he needed a little light relief occasionally to ease the stress of the dual role he continued to play in the unfolding drama of the war.

And you, Severus? Are you eating properly? Getting enough sleep?

Yes, Mother Granger. Although the company at the Head table is not terribly convivial lately. Between the Carrows making sadistic plans to torment the children, Minerva's tight-lipped disapproval, and the other staff blatantly avoiding eye contact, I find meals somewhat disagreeable.

She sniffed a little as she imagined the lonely man shunned by those he was protecting and harassed by those he despised.

Just remember, I believe in you, Severus. Don't give up hope.

I know. The foil cooled, then warmed again some minutes later when Hermione was almost asleep.

It's just so hard. So fucking hard.

The desperation in his words cut her heart to ribbons. Calculating dates swiftly in her head, she touched her wand to the wrapper.

Tomorrow is Saturday. Meet me at the cottage. Nine am.

The foil remained cold and inert. Holding it close to her chest, sleep eventually claimed Hermione, fitful and disturbed with dreams of a dark-haired man standing alone in a crowd, reaching out fruitlessly for any human contact.

The next day dawned clear and cold, a little snow lying on the ground outside the tent as Hermione peeked out to check the weather. Her companion was still wrapped up in his blankets, reluctant to face the day.

"It's not too bad out, Harry. How about you stay here and keep warm while I take a walk down to that village we saw and find a shop to buy food? I have plenty of money, and we are rarely close enough to buy proper food," she offered.

"Why don't you just Apparate?" asked the boy in the cocoon of bedclothes.

"Because I feel like some decent exercise for a change. The weather has been so bad lately we have hardly been outside for days. I'll probably be a couple of hours or so by the time I get down there, check out the shops, and walk back. Go back to sleep for a while."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Harry asked, ever protective.

"I'll be fine. No-one will know we are here as long as we don't mention You-Know-Who's name, and there are unlikely to be any Death Eaters in a small Muggle village. Look, I'll use a glamour to change my appearance." She demonstrated, turning her hair dirty blonde and short and her eyes blue.

"Cool! Can you teach me to do that?"

"When I get back. Any requests?" she asked.

"Potatoes. I would kill for potatoes," Harry murmured as he rolled over into his customary face down, sprawled sleeping position.

"Potatoes. Got it. See you soon." Hermione chuckled as she walked away from the tent. All the possible foods he could request, and Harry Potter wanted bloody potatoes. Feeling a little guilty, she Apparated to the cottage as soon as she was out of sight of the small clearing where they had camped.

"Severus! Are you here?" she called as she entered the cottage. Silence hung in the air, oppressive and expectant. Even Motty was nowhere to be seen. Spirits drooping, Hermione traipsed into the kitchen to find some fresh vegetables, fruit, and bread to take back to the tent. Adding a hunk of cheese and two loaves of freshly baked bread to her stash, she found two bottles of milk and a container of juice in the permanently cold-spelled perishables cupboard.

The creak of the front door opening sent an unexpected shiver shooting down her spine. Despite knowing only she, Snape, and Motty were privy to the cottage's location, her hand grasped her wand as she eased the kitchen door open. The welcome sight of the black-clad wizard standing in the open door sent her fears packing as she rushed over to greet him with a tight, concerned hug.

"I take it you are pleased to see me, young lady?" the man in her arms drawled.

"I... I... missed you, dammit! I've been so worried about you." She looked up at his face, searching his expression for clues to his emotional well-being. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he replied briefly, face carefully smooth.

Hermione stood back, hands on hips. "Bollocks. I know that look, Severus Snape. You only get that when you are hiding something. Now, I will ask again. How are you... really?"

He sighed and took her small hands in his. Leading her over to the sofa, he sat and pulled her close beside him, one arm around her shoulders. She could not see his face and realised it was intended.

"Physically, I'm fine. I haven't been summoned for weeks."

"And mentally? Emotionally?" she prompted, unsure whether he would reply.

"Mentally? Exhausted. Trying to run a school where the staff either hate the sight of me or seek only to ingratiate themselves by devising more hell for the students is... impossible. I can barely think straight some of the time. If Minerva hadn't taken over most of the day-to-day organisation – purely to protect the students, not to alleviate my load – the whole place would have disintegrated into a shambles. I spend all my day stage-managing suitable detentions with safe staff in order to prevent the blasted Carrows killing all of my students in fits of pique and patrolling the corridors to catch the little miscreants before they do." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, drawing upon the strength of the girl beside him.

"Do they know? The students, I mean?" Hermione wondered. Ginny and Neville were usually fairly smart. They must have noticed their detentions were not as harsh as they could have been. And Luna was a Ravenclaw for good reason, despite her odd ways.

"I bloody well hope not. The last thing I need is for Neville Longbottom to start seeing me as the upholder of the light. I'd be dead faster than he could botch a potion if he so much as looked at me gratefully. However, I'm sure the Lovegood girl suspects. She's uncannily perceptive at times. I'd swear she smiled at me the other day when no-one else was around."

"She probably did. Luna was always good at understanding people. But she won't give you away." Hermione leaned into Snape's warm body and rested her head on his shoulder as she squeezed the hand still in hers. She could feel the tension bleeding away at her gentle touch. A salty drop escaped his control and ran down his face, splashing unremarked on her curls.

After a few moments of silence, Snape continued. "Emotionally... I'm a wreck. Sometimes, I just long for it all to be over and for death to claim its final retribution. I have nothing left to give – I've spent so long playing a part, I'm not sure I even know who I am any more. I'm so damned tired, Hermione." Bitterness and regret painted his voice grey and dull, a cracked parody of the rich, velvet baritone which had held an eleven year old in thrall so many years before.

His despair only served to bolster Hermione's courage as she reached up and turned his face down to meet her concerned gaze. Holding his cheek against the palm of her hand, she kissed his tears away. "I know you, Severus Snape. You are the man who protected me and my friends for years, even though you didn't like us. You are the man who held to the side of love and hope against the ravages of hate and prejudice. You are the man who faces torture and beatings in order to help those you care about. That man is a good man and a brave man and a true friend. I've never told you this for fear you would misunderstand, but I love you, Severus. I love you as my friend, my mentor, my protector. It may not be much, being loved by a silly, little schoolgirl, but always know you are loved and needed. Don't give up on me and, more importantly, don't give up on yourself." She watched his eyes widen as he searched her face for confirmation of her words.

"You... love... me?" he rasped.

"Of course I do, you silly man. Do you think I would be here if I didn't? I love Harry and Ron and Ginny as well, so I guess you will have to put up with sharing my heart with them, but... you are special. I'm not sure why." She chanced a little humour. "You just sneaked in when I wasn't looking. Typical Slytherin."

His mood lightened as he smirked. "I imagine that must have been a shock to your Gryffindor sensibilities."

"Finding you in the classroom that night was a shock, but I'm pleased I did," she replied, smiling as she kissed his cheek again and made to stand.

His gentle tug kept her at his side. "Hermione, you have no idea what that night meant to me. Knowing you believe in me has kept me sane all these months. Having a friend after all these years has been a revelation to me. And when I have times where I can't see any future, I will try to remember I have you on my side, come what may. You are no longer just a schoolgirl to me. You are hope." He kissed the top of her head, sealing his promise to her and watched as she gathered her provisions into her beaded bag.

The next hour was spent cocooned in the warmth of each other's regard, the world outside the cottage temporarily forgotten as the two within shared as much of the previous months as was safe.

***

A/N: This was written for the Hermione Big Bang on LiveJournal, which celebrated Hermione's thirtieth birthday. Many thanks go to my friend and colleague, quaffswinegaily, who helped along the way, my beloved beta, ladyinthecloak, and my cheerleader, Michelle.