Chapter 3 - No Rest for The Wicked.

538 15 3
                                    

Severus thought it would be odd, having lived alone for so long, to be sharing his home with another individual. Instead, he found the responsibility of having to cook for someone else empowering. It gave him something to do while he was out of work. He often found his days passed by, uneventful and unproductive. He was a man who had grown used to structure. Without the routine of a carefully planned school day, Severus often felt at a loss. Having someone to care for gave him a timeline, sort of like a loose schedule that he could plan his day around. 

The Granger girl always rose around 9. It was impressive, that she had managed to train herself to possess such a strict internal alarm clock. Severus found sleep to be one of his biggest enemies. He had been suffering at the hands of his insomniac villain long enough to be able to run on minimal amounts of sleep. This meant that he ventured downstairs before Miss Granger, and often took it upon himself to complete household chores whilst she was still sound asleep. 

He wondered whether the girl would blush when she realized that he had been doing her laundry for her, washing her untouchables. At the moment, clean laundry appeared at the foot of her bed each morning, folded neatly. Perhaps she thought he had a house elf that was extraordinarily good at making himself unknown. Snape suspected that she might make up anything she wanted in order to deny the fact that she really knew who was doing her washing. 

By the time 9 o clock chimed, Severus would always have breakfast ready on the kitchen table. He tried to give her an assortment of foods (and he noted that she was yet to complain of his cooking). Some mornings there would simply be toast and marmalade or jam. Other days he would make her a bacon sandwich or eggs. Severus himself would always sit and enjoy a black coffee and watch her eat. Sometimes he would search The Daily Prophet for mentions of his name or for any gossip about Potter. He found the natter tedious, and only really engaged in reading it, should he find any news for Granger of her friends.

So far, no such luck. 

After breakfast, she would find something to busy herself. She had assigned herself the task of tending to his library, but could sometimes be found under a pile of parchment, apparently absorbed in something she had discovered. Overall, she was very quiet and not at all like the know-it-all chatterbox that Severus had known her to be at Hogwarts. He suspected that she might be burying her true emotions, as so to appear tough in front of him. He didn't blame her. Many of his own Slytherins were reluctant to open up to him, because he had a heartless reputation. Even so, Severus wished that he could provide her with someone else whom she could invest her feelings. 

She had been through an immeasurable trauma and Severus could feel her wilting away and hiding from the light. 

Even Severus himself was distracted. He spent the days in his lab, partially avoiding Hermione. His mind would focus on nothing other than her. He had even managed to explode a cauldron yesterday, something he hadn't done since he was a student at Hogwarts himself and bleeding James Potter had slipped something into his potion. Bastard

That morning, about a week after her arrival, Hermione was tucking into a bowl of porridge that he had made her, when there was the unmistakable pecking at the window. Severus had stood, scowling at the eagle owl that had landed on the back of his now empty chair, that obviously belonged to the Malfoy's. In all his living years, he had never seen such a pompous creature. Its feathers were pruned and plucked and his talons were sharpened and polished. Around its leg was tied a parchment. Hermione watched as Severus tore it from the bird's leg, who gave him a malicious peck at the shoulder. Severus swore under his breath at the thing, but didn't fail to miss Granger's smirk. 

He was yet to see a proper smile from the girl, but he figured that if he continued to humiliate himself in such a fashion, he might see one soon enough. 

SurvivorWhere stories live. Discover now