I flew through the halls trying to get to potions class on time. I was never late for anything in my life, and it was just my luck that the first time I would be late was for potions. Professor Professor Snape would be furious I was sure of it, I could already see his eyes burning in anger and hear his cold, yet biting words he would have for me when I finally got into class. Maybe I should just skip class altogether, it was the first class of the year anyways so it wouldn't exactly be too important. I slowed my running to a pitiful trot, grasping my chest in pain trying to suck in air since I was starting to get black speckles from lack of oxygen. I really should work out more and spend less time in the library.

I got turned the corner to the potions hall and groaned when I saw that the door was indeed closed. I glanced down at the silver watch my grandmother gave me for my sixteenth birthday last year and saw that it was two minutes past eight. Only a great jerk like Professor Snape would close the door right on the minute. I sighed dejectedly and drug my feet to the door shifting unsurely in front of it, seriously considering just turning around and going to bed rather than face the anger of the potions master. I had just taken a step back, my mind made up to skip, when the door swung open of its own accord slamming against the wall making me jump in shock.

"Inside Granger." Professor Snape snapped, not pausing or turning around as he meticulously wrote the notes for the day on the chalkboard. I stepped inside quietly and kept my head down to avoid the curious looks of the gryffindors and the smug looks of the slytherins. I was never late so I'm sure this would be the gossip of the century as soon as class let out.

"I don't suppose you are going to enlighten the class on why you came in at 8:02, when you are aware that class starts at eight o'clock on the dot?" Professor Snape asked coldly pausing in his writing only to glance down at his notes.

"I had to discuss some things with the headmaster, I have a note." I knew that professor Professor Snape didn't care about things such as good reasons, or notes from the headmaster. It was still insolence in his mind, so I was unsurprised when he set down the chalk with a little too much force and spun around looking more intimidating than ever.

"I don't care about your note Ms. Granger. You are to be in my class at eight am sharp on the mornings you have class with me, and this Saturday for a detention, am I understood?" He seethed approaching me with a swift swoop until he was inches from my face, the anger evident in every line of his face. I gulped and unconsciously stepped back nodding my head in eager agreement wishing I had just skipped like I had been planning. Now I would have to spend all class with a pissed off Professor, and a Saturday detention with him also. I glanced up at him fearfully unintentionally making eye contact with him, because who really intentionally makes eye contact with the most feared person in the school?

"Yes Professor." I mumbled softly shifting nervously under his scrutinizing gaze. After a long moment he backed off and went to the head of the class room and sat down after giving a sharp order for the class to begin the assignment. I breathed a small sigh of relief that even though I had detention, the unavoidable confrontation was finally over. I barely paid attention to the potion or the concerned looks of Harry and Ron who knew something was up, but both of them not wanting to say something and attract more unwanted attention from the sour Professor.

My thoughts strayed to the conversation that I had just had with the headmaster. Over the summer I had tried to convince the headmaster that my parents needed more protection, a fact that he eventually agreed on, but not until after Voldemort had taken advantage of their vulnerability and killed them. Actually it was a couple of his minions that had been ordered to do it. I couldn't tell Harry or Ron, that's what Voldemort wanted, for Harry to become reckless with indignation and rage, so I had to act like everything was fine. I had gone to grimwald place after it happened, but I had been able to hide out for the remaining of the summer in the many rooms and libraries it harbored.

When I got up this morning I headed straight to the headmaster's office to discuss my tuition for the year, my parents had always taken care of it and so I wasn't quite sure how it worked. My thoughts darkened quickly remembering the night they died, a memory I usually tried to avoid at all costs. The dark memories consumed my mind though, and my potion ended up turning out horribly for the first time since starting school six years ago. I gripped the edge of the desk in frustration glaring down at the pot of boiling yellow liquid that was supposed to be a dark brown now. Had Professor Snape been one of the death eaters who raided my house? Did he know it was going to happen? Even if he hadn't been there, he knew, and that was unnerving to me. It was much easier to act like it hadn't happened when nobody else knew it had happened.

"Granger. We need to discuss your detentions." Professor Snape snapped coldly and I realized with a start that I was the only one left in the class and I had spent the entirety of the class obsessing about my parent's death. I let go of my iron grip on the desk and waved away the mess of a potion not bothering to bottle up any for grading. It would have been a zero anyways.

"Yes professor?" I asked striding slowly to his desk stopping a good two feet from it unwilling to be too close to the dark man willingly. He finished writing a sharp comment in his red grading ink on a poor first years paper and glared up at me.

"Why were you late?" I sighed not really wanting to go into this.

"I already told you, I was talking to the headmaster."

"At eight o'clock when you're supposed to be in classes? Pray tell Ms. Granger, what was so important?" He leered, his eyes dark and malicious. I had barely been keeping my volatile emotions in for the last few weeks and his cold questioning was the tipping point. I never talked back to teachers, but right now I didn't care about my perfect reputation.

"Oh, well you see professor, it seems that somebody was so kind as to murder my parents so I had to make sure I had submitted my tuition correctly before classes. Maybe if they hadn't been murdered by one of your friends, I could have been on time to your class and not wasted any of your fucking precious time!" I practically shouted at him feeling a rush of relief to take my anger out on him, a decision I almost as quickly made, as regretted. At first I saw shock register on his normally stoic expression, but then I saw the slightest whisper of pain. It was gone so quickly I was sure I had imagined it, but I knew I wouldn't have imagined such a thing when I was enjoying taking my anger out on him so much.

"I'll see you at eight am sharp on Saturday Ms. Granger." He said with a vehemence that surprised me. He started grading his papers with more force than before and I knew I had been dismissed.

When I met up with Harry and Rom in transfiguration I pointedly ignored their probing questions and let myself slip into the trance I had become so comfortable with. It wasn't necessarily meditation, I could see and watch the going ons around me, but my conscious was taking safe refuge in the inner depths of my mind and I was letting my subconscious take control of my actions. It was a technique I had taught myself to distance create distance from the world while I grieved, and reverted too still on bad days like this. From what little I could find on the subject of occlumency, this was a form of occlumency. It was generally only used though in torture situations to keep the conscious mind from cracking. Apparently my life had got to the point where just everyday life was torture.

My feeling of isolation and detachment was only increased when we were in the common rooms that night. It was the second night back at Hogwarts, so not much homework had been assigned and everyone was laughing and joking, the common room full of excitement that I couldn't handle.

"You okay Minione?" Harry asked giving me a concerned smile from on the ground next to my chair where he was sitting with Ginny playing some sort of wizarding board game that I had never gotten the hang of.

"Fine Harry." A part of me felt a surge of annoyance at him for only just now noticing that something was up. I had been upset for two months now, hiding out in the libraries of Grimwald place, barely able to eat, never sleeping, and just now he realizes that something is wrong? I know he's a guy, and their emotions work differently, but surely they aren't completely oblivious to everything that doesn't concern them right?

I got up after a few minutes throwing them a lazy excuse about being tired and headed up to the safety of my bed. I slipped under the familiar red covers glad I could relax and not pretend like I was happy and fine. I could let my thoughts drift and not have to worry about people interrupting me asking me pointless things like how was lunch? Have you finished your muggle studies paper? Who do you think will be the next gryffindor beater? My answer to all of that was who freaking cares, but that would draw attention so I would make up some diplomatic response.

As my mind drifted it strayed back to the look of guilt on Professor Snape's face when I mentioned his friends killing my parents. He had seemed guilty. In order to be guilty he would have to care in some shape or fashion. I knew he was a master of occlumency, so his emotions wouldn't be as easy to decipher as a normal person's emotions, so to be able to get a glimpse into his mind, even for a second was startling. Then there also was the question of why did he care? He had never shown any interest in my well-being before now. Had something changed? Or was it just the guilt that any human being would feel when responsible for another person's pain?

I rolled onto my stomach and snuggled into my pillow absorbing the warmth of the soft down resisting the urge to fall asleep. I knew if I slept I would have nightmares, so I eventually got up and pulled out a book with a sigh. I would be tired in the morning, but I didn't care. I had barely slept in months and I had managed, exhaustion was better than reliving my parents death over and over. I considered getting a dreamless sleep potion from Professor Snape, but knew the answer would be a no so I resigned myself to reading about the intricacies of wandless magic.

The week passed excruciatingly slow. I didn't really pay attention to my surroundings until I found myself standing at the potions masters' door knocking for my Saturday detention.

"Enter." I winced at the unusually cold tone. He was definitely still mad at me. I entered the room slowly surprised he wasn't at his teaching desk as normal, but at the student's desk instead. He was making a potion at one of the desks slowly stirring the potion with a look of intense concentration on his face. His hair was pulled back out of his face, and his sleeves were rolled up, including his left arm leaving his dark mark exposed. I had never seen it before so I tried not to stare at the black branding, but unable to hide my interest. He looked so relaxed I felt like I was intruding, which I was, but at his request.

"Is that Veritaserum?" I asked gently afraid if I talked too loud I would break his concentration. He glanced briefly up at me without any of his usual glare or malice and I let my shoulders relax realizing he wasn't still mad at me.

"No Granger, it is a potion I myself created, it eases the effects of the cruciatus curse and repairs the damage to the nerves." I watched in interest as he chopped some acaia leaf with his left arm realizing for the first time that he was left handed. He dropped the chopped leaf into the potion then started chopping some mandrake root with a gracefulness that seemed unnatural for someone who was as tall and muscular as he was. I watched for a few minutes my guilt at my outburst growing watching him make a potion that I'm sure he created out of pure desperation. He was a spy, even if he had been there, he didn't have any choice in it, I highly doubted he got a kick out of tormenting and killing innocent people, he seemed sadistic, but not psychopath sadistic.

"I'm sorry for my outburst earlier this week." He dropped the mandrake root into the potion and stirred it slowly, his eyes not leaving the concoction as it turned from a clear thin liquid, to a dark grey thick goo that I couldn't imagine tasting very good.

"The difference between a slytherin and a gryffindor is that a slytherin will never apologize for something they weren't in the wrong for." He said coldly after a moment. My eyes widened in surprise when I took in the meaning of his words, realizing that was about as close to an apology as I would ever get from him.

"Were you there?" I asked after a moment. I didn't have to elaborate any further, I knew he knew exactly what I was asking about. He put a stasis charm on the potion and rolled down his sleeves pinning me with a piercing gaze that seemed almost unconscious. What I wouldn't give to be so intimidating without even paying attention.

"How many death eaters so you know with black hair Ms. Granger?" I slipped onto the desk behind me, sitting on the edge as I considered is question. I had never really thought about it, the death eater's hair color was the last thing I had cared about in the moment. I tried to focus on the memory hoping to make out the hair color of the death eaters, I knew one was Lucius from his long blond hair, but the rest had brown hair right? No, one had stood to the side for the majority of the time observing and giving commands when necessary. He had obviously been the one in charge, and he had been the one to kill my parents. I tried to focus on the distant memory of him, a difficult task since he wasn't too involved, but then I could see it, he had black hair. My eyes shot up to his and I knew why he had looked guilty when I had said one of his friends had killed my parents, it had been him. He walked slowly over to me, his face ever the perfect mask, but he stopped mere inches from me and wiped away the tears I hadn't realized I'd shed.

"I knew they would be tortured to insanity anyways, then killed, I had wanted to end it as quickly as possible." He explained evenly, the coldness he usually had temporarily gone from his expression. I took a shuddering breath trying to calm the tears, but my heart ached with such an intensity that I couldn't help but cry. He sighed and pulled me against his chest letting me cry onto his white shirt, which I'm sure would stain. I melted into the embrace letting the tears flow sucking in the comfort I had so desperately needed for the last few months. I don't know how long I had been crying when I ran out of tears and laid against his chest tiredly letting him hold me tightly feeling nothing but safe in his arms. He smelled of cedar and pine, probably from gathering potions in the forest, but I breathed in the scent and exhaled slowly enjoying the calming effect it seemed to have on me.

I hadn't really expected to be comforted by the professor, he didn't really seem like the sentimental type, but his arms held me against him, surrounding me as if he could protect me from the world just by holding me, and for right now, he could. I closed my eyes when he made gently calming circles on the small of my back, easing out the last of my tension I hadn't realized I had been holding onto.

"If I let you go, are you going to meltdown again on me?" He asked, the words having no real malice to them. His voice rumbled in his chest deep and melodic. I nodded my head against his chest earning myself a deep laugh. I had never even thought he was capable of laughing, let alone at me. He pulled me gently away from him ending the embrace. I wasn't the only one who seemed to have profited from then hug, he looked less tense, his face was already back to an impassive mask, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that suggested he wasn't nearly as weighed down as before.

"You are to make a healing drought for your detention." He order, his voice even as if he hadn't just been holding me. I nodded slipping off the desk trying to hide my hurt when he nodded briefly and went to his desk to grade papers, his gentle side completely gone replaced by the cold professor I had always known. I could take him assigning me the healing drought instead of cleaning caldrons as a compliment, but I got the feeling it was something much less personal, and more probably just what he was low on at that time. I got started on the healing drought arguing with myself in my internal dialogue trying to discern his intentions. He had just been comforting the person whose parents he'd killed, that's it. He doesn't feel anything different towards me, I'm still the annoying know it all he's always known and hated. He was only hugging me out of indifferent guilt. I glanced up at him several times while making the potion, but he always kept his eyes trained on his work. I was almost done with the healing drought when he jerked back in his chair and grabbed his arm with a hiss.

"You can leave." He snapped slamming open a drawer and pulling out what I knew to be his death eater robes.

"I'm not finished yet."

"Leave." He almost yelled, the pain lacing his voice. He yanked off his teaching robes and put on the stiff death eater robes, buttoning them up with a wave of his hand. I barely held back a gasp when he put on the bone mask in front of me, terror going through me despite knowing even if he wanted to hurt me, he was in too much pain to do so, not to mention he would have done so before now. It was just a mask, but the fear it created was quite real. He threw some floo powder in the fireplace and stepped in not stopping to make me leave since he was in such a rush, but as he called out Malfoy manor, our eyes locked for the briefest of seconds through the holes in the bone mask, and I would have given anything to know exactly what he was thinking in that moment. His eyes were cold and black giving nothing away, and the next second, he was gone.

I paced anxiously awaiting his return. I knew that he could handle himself, he had done this a million times, but I still knew that if I left now and he ended up dyeing because I had left knowing where he had gone, then I would be responsible for his death. I wasn't sure how long these things normally took, but I had the feeling it would be at least a few hours so I resigned myself to a long wait.

It had been noon when he had left, so by six I was getting worried, and bored out of my mind. I had spent a good couple of hours trying to break the wards on his desk, but hadn't had any luck. I sighed dramatically and went over to his potion that was still on stasis in the cauldron. It swirled out of its own accord, its metallic grey actually quite beautiful. It was thick so it's swirling was slow, but still noticeable. I knew he was a brilliant man, but to create a potion like this from scratch was amazing. I looked over the copious amounts of notes that he had spread out over the desk and noticed that his was not his first time making the potion. The instructions had so many layers of editing to it, that it was completely illegible.

I picked up some of the newer and less edited papers and tried to decipher the complex equations and partial notes that made very little sense, but it was truly a code of his own. No wonder he had been so focused when I came in, it probably was almost impossible for even him to decipher the notes. I gave up putting the paper down exactly as I had found it knowing he would notice if I moved it even an inch. I wandered the room aimlessly looking for something to occupy my mind when I saw the door. I hadn't ever noticed it before, but now it was calling out to me like the most enchanting song I'd ever heard. I glanced around just to make sure he hadn't snuck in while I was lost in thought and tried to open the door, practically bouncing with joy when it opened for me. It led to a walk-in closet filled with shelves of what I could only deduce was his personal items. Books, photo albums, old school supplies, some collectible potion ingredients (most of which were highly illegal) and the most interesting of all items was the ornate stone basin that was positioned directly in front of me, as if it was the most used and most important item in the closet. It was a dark stone that had stone snakes slithering realistically up the side of the stone basin and going headfirst into the silvery liquid in the basin.

I could only imagine what kind of potion was in this basin, it was surely very illegal and most likely quite intoxicating. I had heard of certain addictive and mind altering potions, but none of which were silver. I hadn't really thought of someone as concerned with power as Professor Snape as being a druggie, but I couldn't say I was shocked with his stressful job as a spy. My instincts told me not to touch the potion, but my curiosity won out and I dipped my finger in it, just for a taste. I was instantly sucked down into the potion falling until I hit a wooden floor, the air completely knocked out of me. As soon as I got my bearings, I realized my horrid mistake, this was no potion, it was a pensive. The very pensive Harry had gotten trapped in last year. Professor Snape was going to kill me! I tried to wish my way out, tried every incantation I could think of waving my wand around like a madmen hoping something would work, but the small bedroom stayed the same grimy bedroom and I was still looking at a young version of Professor Snape. He was reading a book on the thin and moldy mattress leaned over in complete concentration looking the epitome of a book worm. His concentration snapped abruptly when he heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and the book was rapidly hidden and the light turned out, but not before I saw the look of utter terror on his face. I breathed deeply trying to hold back my panic attack, but the door swung open with a loud bang in the darkness and I knew that I didn't want to see this.

"Where is it? I know you've been reading those damned books again!" I closed my eyes trying to block out my future professors pained screams as he was hit with some hard object that I refused to open my eyes and see. The noise stopped abruptly and I took in a shuddering breath in the silence fearing the worst of my professor despite knowing that there is no way his father could have killed him considering he was still alive today, but when I heard a soft tapping of a hard boot, I realized that the horror of the memory wasn't so bad after all.

"Enjoying yourself Granger?" I opened my eyes to see myself standing exactly where I had been before I had gotten caught in the pensive, facing the offending stone basin. Professor Snape was standing tapping his foot behind me. Did he know I had gone in the pensive? Or had I gotten out of my own accord? Best to just act like he didn't know unless he gave me reason to believe otherwise. I turned around slowly trying ineffectively to hide my guilt.

"How did you get in here?" He stopped tapping his foot, and leaned casually against the doorframe to the closet, the cold death in his eyes a complete contrast to his seemingly relaxed stance. I gulped and made to sure not to think of the trip I had just taken in his pensive.

"I just opened the door." He sneered at this his eyes growing even darker if possible.

"Is that supposed to be a joke Granger?" All of the softness from earlier was gone and the most feared person the school was back full force. I shifted uncomfortable wondering if he would use the cruciatus on me despite its illegal status. He surely looked mad enough right now. As if he had read my thoughts, his eyes flashed in anger and he pushed himself off the doorframe stalking towards me with a deliberate power that made a surge of fear run through me. He didn't stop at a foot away, so I backed away hitting the shelve behind me trying to keep some distance between us, but he put an arm on both sides of me blocking any potential route for escape, only an inch between us, and his anger pliable in the little distance between us.

"Cruciatus is not what you should be afraid of Granger." He growled deeply, a shiver going down my spine, and it wasn't from fear. I had never looked into his eyes at such a close distance, but when I did, I realized that he was high. His eyes were actually a dark brown, something I had never noticed before since I didn't make it a habit to be a mere inch from the intimidating professor, but his pupils right took up almost his entire iris.

"You're high." I stated matter of factly. My fear had abated somewhat, and curiosity had taken over.

"What Granger." He seemed thrown off by the accusation, backing up slightly from me. I tipped his chin down gently so I could see his eyes better and knew I was right. He stilled when my fingers touched his chin and I saw a dark emotion in his eyes for the briefest of seconds that had nothing to do with anger.

"I said your high. Have you been smoking?" He gave me an indignant look, but I wouldn't be deterred.

"No? Did he hit you with the cruciatus curse?" He didn't respond, but I knew from his lack of response that he had been.

"Interesting, in your body's attempt to heal itself, it seems to manufacture its own form of drugs, it make sense, and it's probably your body's way to keeping itself from succumbing to the damage of the cruciatus curse, to keep you functioning and aware while in a life or death situation." I said softly more to myself than to him. I had always been fascinated with the body's ability to preserve itself, but this was a unique case I had never heard about such a situation before. He didn't put more distance between us despite his anger having worn off now and the lack of need for him to be cornering me against his shelf.

"Point being?"

"No point. Just fascinated me I suppose." He growled deep in his throat and I knew if he was fully aware of himself he wouldn't be in such a compromising position with me, but since he wasn't, I couldn't help but enjoy myself. His death eater's robes were thicker than his teacher's robes and had more ornate stitching on them. I absentmindedly ran a hand over the stiff material, feeling a certain rush of danger and fear knowing what power it represented. I looked up at Professor Snape taking in the darkness in his eyes that were blank as always, but somehow so deep. The emotion was there, I was certain of it, it was just hidden under layers upon layers of occlumency.

"You should go Granger." I hummed not really caring. I used to be so concerned with rules and being the perfect gryffindor, but right now, all I cared about was being in a moment where it wasn't so painful that I had to hide in the depths of my mind. The danger of tempting a death eater was real, and it cut through the thick fog that had surrounded me for months now. I could tell that his resolve was wavering and I slowly unbuttoned his shirt taking my time with every button enjoying how his breath hitched when I got to the last button.

"Granger." It was a warning. I gave him a shy, but playful smile knowing I had won when I had run my hands over his bare and well-toned chest and earned myself a deep growl.

"You're playing with fire Granger, I can't be held accountable for my actions right now." He said darkly, looking at my lips with a dark lust that took my breath away.

"I'll take my chances." I said giving him grin and pulling him closer to me so we were touching, what little distance there had been left in between us closed, daring him to kiss me.