She slept the rest of the night without a single nightmare: sweet darkness and ever-longed-for unconsciousness have fallen over her the very moment she's closed her eyes. It was warm and safe, familiar, yet ‒ strange. Lying in her bed the following morning, Hermione couldn't recall when was the last time she's woken up so refreshed; she even managed a little smile.
Reality wasn't so happy though. Snape was now probably sitting in the Headmistress office, dishing her with Minerva McGonagall, telling the older woman the whole story of her nightly walkabouts all along the castle corridors. She felt sick, the moment it came to her already uneasy mind.
"Damn, him and his nosy character!"
Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? Hermione had no doubt that she would rather die somewhere in the depths of Hogwarts than be granted by the limitless pleasure of Potions Master's presence in her times of weakness. She haven't even done anything wrong. She was now one of professors; walking the castle at nights was not only her privilege, but above all, her duty. And yet, Snape surely wanted her head on a silver plate. It felt like she was still a sort of stupid, stubborn student to him, having to be penalized for unbecoming behaviour.
She clanged her teeth. That was not going to happen, not until she loose her mind completely.
The witch stepped out of her bed and grabbed her towel, heading to the bathroom door. She wasn't so sure which one was to be considered as a more urging problem right now: her anger or hunger. Hermione heard her stomach growl for food and felt some missed-meal cramps.
"Sweet Merlin," she thought, "for the first time after The War, I'm actually starving."
Nevertheless the breakfast had to wait, a chat with her former professor and her meant-to-be colleague was more important than her primal needs. She dressed herself up, tamed her hear as well as it was possible at the moment, and stormed out of her quarters.
She found him in his rooms, sitting calmly in the armchair. The very moment she heard his cold, but fairly enough polite "Come in", she was certain that her presence was anticipated.
"What brings you here so early in the morning Miss Granger? Aren't the nights your usual time of physical activity?" he mocked her.
Hermione pressed her lips together.
"Why do you help me, professor?" she asked.
"I beg your pardon?" his eyebrows lifted.
"You always appear near to me when I have my..."
"We call it panic attacks, Miss Granger" he almost smiled saying so.
"Yes, thank you professor for your kind remark... but, as I was saying, it feels strange to me that you are always near, willing to help."
He hissed.
"Oh, I assure you, Miss Granger, I am not by any means willing to help you or do anything else to you."
"So why do you always escort me back to my rooms?"
He hesitated for a brief moment. She saw it in his dark eyes, a glimpse of precariousness.
"Because, like I've already said to you multiple times, Minerva would have me killed if I didn't help you. And despite all of that, I know how you feel now, Granger. I am familiar with pain and shock and, what's even more important now, the fallouts of those mentioned before. I do not judge you, but also I do not pity you. What you experience now is the well-earned result of your fullish actions in the past. There are not too many people still alive, who would understand what is happening to you. It seams, that I'm your only hope. Clearly Miss Granger, you are not satisfied with the knowledge, that I am the one who is going to help you put yourself together, I can see that, but believie me, or not, neither am I. You can cooperate or be stubborn as you've always been, it all depends on you."
"McGonagall made you..."
"It is not important who, if anyone, made me do this or that, Granger. The question is: would you accept my offer or deny it?"
She looked at him for a while. Had she even a choice?
"I accept your offer, professor." she said finally.
"Good" his smirk made her furious.
She stood there waiting for him to say something more.
"Why don't you go and eat your breakfast?" he asked with a cold voice. It sounded to her more like he was going to say "Get the fuck out of my room, Granger."
"Yes, of course, professor," she turned around and went out.
sss
The swift sound of her footsteps echoed in the Great Hall; every day the hall have been almost completely empty and every day the sensation has been striking her with the same force. Whilst the summer break, eating here felt weird to Hermione. Even as she didn't enjoyed the idea of the crowds, huge, empty spaces also made her stomach tighten.
Still, all she could feel now was her anger. The bloody Slytherin bastard has been treating her so far as she was just a kid fooling around at the castle on purpose of causing him some accidental trouble. For Snape she must have seemed young and childish enough to make him resume that her actions were supposed to be only a maliciousness to his well-organized world.
Stupid git.
As Hermione finally reached the main table and sat next to Minerva McGonagall, she realised that all the professors are staring on her with pure disbelief.
"What happened?" she asked Headmistress confidentially. "Do I look different today, or something?"
The older woman gave her a little smile and said:
"No, you just stormed in and marched all across the Hall the way Severus usually does. I assume that two of you had a conversation this morning?"
"Than you assume right, professor." The tone of Hermione's voice went cold.
Minerva nodded slightly and poured herself another cup of coffee. She's always drunk two at the breakfast and the third one at lunch.
"Are you alright Hermione, my dear?" she asked with concern.
"Yes, just perfect Headmistress," the girl replied bitterly. "Why is my state of being even a subject of your concern, professor?"
Minerva sighed.
"Because I'm sincerely worried about you child."
"And what brings you to conclusion that there is anything to worry about?"
Theanger started to take control over Hermione. She felt her palm sweat, her hands tremble hidden under the table. She haven't eaten anything yet, loosing her appetite immediately the moment she saw the Headmistress' anxious expression.
Minerva smiled again, trying to be polite remembering what her former student went through.
"I know you, Hermione, maybe not as much as to make statements about your frame of mind, but I like to think, that it is just enough to react when something isn't going perfectly well in your life."
"Oh, thank you for all your kindness, professor but I am fine, pardon me, I WAS fine until you put damn Severus Snape into my fucking life!" Hermione almost shouted the last few words, attracting everyone's attention.
"I-I'm sorry Minerva, I went too far," the young witch blushed. "I just cannot stand his sarcasm and hate that he's showing me every time we meet. And I am not only to work with the man, not only to be taught by him, but – if it all was not enough – you asked Snape to help me with my personal issues. Am I right? You haven't even gave me so much as a chance to decide if I want anyone's help or if I need it.
"Yes, you are right, Hermione, as you usually do," Minerva McGonagall glanced at her with annoyance. "I tend to feel responsible for you, dear."
"But there is no need to do so, professor. I can care for myself. And, excuse me Headmistress for my rudeness, but my private life is none of anybody's business unless it does effect my work."
"Oh, and doesn't it?
Hermione tightened her lips.
"I have been heartily longanimous to your behaviour recently, Miss Granger," Minerva started in a more official tone, a dry smile appearing on her face. "But as everything in that world, my patience has its limits, and these were pushed today morning. I understand your grief. I'm worried every time your panic attack occurs, but the rudeness and bluntness you've just presented, are unacceptable here, especially in front of the other staff members, Hermione. Severus warned me so many times, that I have a false picture of you, but I've always defended you, always believed in you, and now... Now I start to reconsider my opinion, Miss Granger."
Hermione went silent. In that very moment, probably for the first time in her whole life, she had nothing to say. She realised how cruel she's just behaved. The old woman wanted to help her, to end her suffering, not even knowing the cause that stood behind it all. She wanted to apologise, but couldn't come up with right words. She grunted and stood up, watched by other teachers: professor Sprout looked at her with such sadness in her eyes, that guilt Hermione felt, grew even larger.
She quickly took-off without a word of goodbye.