Dreams

A/N: Thanks to my betas, Lariope and Lulabelle72. Many hugs to RedSkyAtNight for her fabulous britpicking.

"Do you think I'm going soft now?" a chilly voice whispered into her ear.

"P-please s-stop!" she stuttered. She could feel the ice cold, tingling poison traveling through her body, and within minutes, she felt dizzy and numb, and Snape's face was twisted as he spilled his seed inside her rapidly slackening form. The last thing she saw before the blackness overcame her was Snape, licking his middle finger, which was covered in blood.

It was pitch black and extremely cold when she jolted out of her nightmare--the sound of her own voice screaming in agony had woken her up. She was lying flat on her stomach, and the cotton sheets were twisted widely around her naked body.

"Miss Granger?" said a muffled voice from across the room.

She froze. Her dream came rushing back at her; reliving it a second time made her stomach flop.

What was he doing in her room?

She fumbled around, desperately searching for her wand. She groped around the large bed, looking for the edge--large bed? What the hell? Her bed at home was big enough for two people--the one at Hogwarts was large enough just for her--but this bed... was huge.

I'm not in my room--which means, I'm in--

"Miss Granger, answer me."

Oh, no, no, NO!

"Lumos! Accio Wand!" she whispered. You stupid girl, you don't have wandless magic yet!

She rolled onto her knees and crawled across the soft bed, swinging her legs off the side and wrapping the sheet around her body. A soft rug tickled the soles of her feet.

The door creaked opened and a sliver of light fell into the room--directly onto her. Even though she was covered with a thin sheet, she felt completely nude as the light shone on her. All she could see was the silhouette of Snape, and it unnerved her.

"Miss Granger, I heard you screaming. Are you all right?"

"I had a nightmare. What happened last night? Why am I here?" she said, tightening the sheet around her body. "And more importantly, why am I... naked?"

"I brought you back here after you lost consciousness down in the Grotto. As far as being... in your state... I had a house-elf undress you and place you in my bed. Your skin was on fire and you were sweating. My room is the coolest area in the castle, and I thought your temperature would lower if I let you sleep down here."

"I don't understand. I felt fine all day yesterday. Why did I pass out?"

"I assume you had a reaction to the wine."

"That's never happened before."

"Elf-made wine is strong--it takes some time to get used to it," he said, opening the door all the way, letting the faint light spill in from the other room. He snapped his fingers, and the candles floating on the ceiling came to life.

Hermione wanted to crawl beneath the covers and hide. The light exposed her nakedness, and to be in a room with a man--this man--covered only in a thin sheet was the most intimidating moment of her life. She felt completely vulnerable and unprotected. She could feel his eyes on her body, and she could nearly hear his mind clicking as he watched her trying to hide herself. She knew he could see into a person's mind, and she wondered if he could see through cotton as well. She wouldn't be surprised--very little about Snape surprised her anymore. And if he could, what did he think about her ugliness--her fleshy thighs, her jiggly breasts, the collar bones that protruded too much--would he bring it up every time he got the chance? But what was she worrying about--she had seen him completely naked--bloody hell, she'd even helped him bathe. If he wanted to cast stones... He had had a hard-on for Merlin's sake!

"Miss Granger, are you all right" he said, stepping further inside the room, interrupting her panicked thoughts.

She lifted her chin up, determined not to be a cowardly lion, and said, "I'll be fine. It was just a nightmare. Thank you for taking such good care of me. If you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed, eat, and continue my research."

"Certainly," he said, nodding once before turning on his heel and closing the door behind him.

Hermione walked over to the foot of the bed and retrieved her neatly folded pile of clothes from the bench and quickly dressed. Her wand was sitting at the bottom of the pile. She did a quick flick, and the bed was made. She tucked her wand into her hidden pocket and headed to the loo.

When she emerged, he was sitting on his sofa, flipping through a Potions journal.

"Better?" he asked without looking up.

"Much," she said, bending down to pick up her satchel.

"Where are you going" he asked, still not looking up from his reading material.

"Well, I haven't been able to search those artifacts in Dumbledore's office as you suggested a few days ago, so I think I'd better head up there before he returns."

"You can use my Floo. I'll be working in my private lab this afternoon if you need me--refilling the hospital wing's supply of potions takes a few weeks to accomplish."

"Thank you," she said, walking over to the large fireplace. She took a pinch of powder from his stash and disappeared into the dancing green flames.

"Good morning, Fawkes," she said as she stepped out of the fireplace and walked past the small bird who was perched on his stand.

He lifted his head, yawned and then softly cooed at her.

Chuckling to herself, she sat her satchel on Dumbledore's office table, rummaged through her bag and pulled her notebook out. She clutched it to her chest and began gazing around at the amazing décor. The ceilings were high, and the stained-glass window reached from floor to ceiling, casting sparkling rays of different coloured lights across the room. There were many trinkets and knicknacks in the room, sitting on the shelves and tabletops. Dumbledore had a vast private library of books. Hermione noticed not only books about magic, but Muggle books about gardening, knitting and cooking! She laughed out loud, imagining the old Wizard reading how to properly bake bread and make jam roly-poly Her laugh vibrated off the walls, but it was oddly quiet. Usually when she was in here, she could hear the murmurs of the portraits. But today, they were silent. Actually, now that she started looking around more closely, she noticed that many--no, all--of the occupants of the frames were gone.

Except one.

And it had to be him. Hadn't she been forced to listen to enough of his snide ramblings while she and the boys were searching for the Horcruxes? Apparently not. He was staring at her with his cunning eyes, his hands folded neatly on his lap. She wondered why the other occupants wandered off for the day--maybe they all left when Dumbledore was gone.

"Professor Black," she stated as she walked past the large portrait.

"Snooping again, Miss Granger?" he replied.

"Excuse me?" she said after she finished reading the small note that she found addressed to her. It had asked her to look at the artifacts that were laid out on the table and was signed by Dumbledore.

"You heard me."

She ignored him and starting waving her wand over the objects, searching for warding spells and traces of magic. It took her nearly two hours to go through the items. When she found that nothing was harmful, she began tinkering around with the trinkets. None of them seemed especially intriguing; some looked like dark magic detectors, while others were everyday objects like stirring sticks for potions or pocket mirrors. She was writing her progress in her notebook when she heard the former headmaster say, "What did you think of the Grotto, Miss Granger?"

Her head snapped up, and she slammed her book shut. "How did you know about that?"

"I have my ways."

Snape, she thought bitterly. She hastily gathered her belongings, feeling suddenly uncomfortable--the silence of the room and his twisted humour was making the hairs on her neck stand on end.

"In a hurry? What a shame. Before you go though, I wanted to ask how your boyfriends are doing."

She was nearly at the fireplace and stopped. Why did he want to know that? She faced his painting. "Harry and Ron are my friends. And for your information, I don't have any boyfriends. And I don't want any."

"You promise?" he said, grinning. Then, he tilted his head back and laughed--a loud, malicious laugh. She even saw him wipe a tear from his eye.

Hermione's heart was racing, and her palms were sweaty. After having one of his portraits stuffed in her bag for nearly a year, she knew how he worked. He knew something about her and was amusing himself by asking her ridiculous questions. She returned to her private room, wondering what the hell Phineas Nigellus Black had found so damned humorous.

Up next: Find out what really happens at a Death Eater revel.