If caught and asked why she was down here, she'd use Crookshanks as an excuse. She had found him down here last year, so it was a valid excuse. Sort of.

She was certain it was her imagination, but it seemed colder down here than her previous visits. As if just the idea of Voldemort physically being back dropped the temperature in the dungeons.

Impossible.

And yet.

Was it? This was magic, after all?

She could imagine what her professor's reaction was going to be to her coming down here. No doubt he was busy and distracted with other things. Realistically, she had no business being here. She couldn't get Crooks being in his office last year out of her mind, though. And thought it was more important this year than the others, when she had something to thank him for, to say goodbye.

Likely, he'd tell her she was foolish. She probably was, but she couldn't leave without saying something. It was important.

She knocked lightly, but instead of his usual "Enter" the door was opened of its own accord. She stood in the hall, unsure if there was someone leaving or not. That would be embarrassing.

"Get in or go back, but you cannot be seen in these halls tonight."

She stepped over the threshold then and the door closed behind her as she made her way toward his desk. She took him in. She wasn't sure why she'd missed it earlier, but he'd clearly been beaten. Tortured? She knew Voldemort used torture to keep his followers in line. She shivered at the thought. His throat clearing made her realize that she was staring longer than was appropriate, and he was waiting for her to get on with the purpose of her visit. There was nothing really to thank him for this year.

"You knew…" She trailed off, gesturing at the door that he'd opened and closed for her.

"Yes, well, no one else would be seeking me out tonight, that's for certain. I'm really starting to think that the whole cleverest witch of your age moniker is absurd, believing that it's safe to come down here tonight alone."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I hope you have a good summer." This was said to his desk really more than to him directly. She was nervous. Probably more so than the other visits. Things had shifted. Voldemort was back. Everything was going to be different. There was no more trying to prevent him from returning. Now it was going to be a fight to survive.

He scoffed then. His eyes didn't harden exactly, but she saw disbelief in them well enough. She supposed the wording wasn't the most appropriate way to phrase it.

"No, I mean it. I can imagine," she shrugged, glancing at him. "I shouldn't have said good. That was a misnomer, and I know that. I should have said that I hope you are kept safe."

"Unlikely."

"It's going to be awful, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said simply.

The fact that he'd been honest with her scared her. He was her professor, he was supposed to tell her everything was going to be all right and she was reading too deeply into things. She was glad he hadn't sugar coated it for her, but she'd hoped she was wrong. Somehow.

"I know you wouldn't heed my advice, so I'll save the warning. That being the suggestion that you remain at home this coming school year."

"Oh, I couldn't do that." She knew he was likely right, but she absolutely would not do that.

"As I said…"

"Crookshanks," she said.

"I have not seen your familiar…"

"No, I know. I mean, I don't know I guess because as usual, I'm not sure where he is. However, he likes you."

"No accounting for taste."

Surely, he knew about kneazles even if he hadn't owned one. He was smart and knew she liked to read about everything. He would realize that she knew what it likely meant that Crookshanks was here. With him. And happy to be there.

"I was thinking of leaving him here for the summer," she whispered, eyes on his desk again. She didn't want to see his reaction to what she'd just said. The indirect offer she'd made. She sensed somehow that Crookshanks would be more useful here than at home with her.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"As I said, he likes you. He's magical," she shut her mouth, certain she wasn't making any sense to him.

It sounded good in her mind when she'd thought of it this morning when she was packing. That maybe Crookshanks could help him. He'd found his way to the Professor's classroom last year. Had he done it before? It would seem so, because the professor didn't seem surprised or incredibly put out by her cat being on his desk when she'd found him last year.

One thing she did know, Crookshanks wasn't dumb, and if he liked - trusted - this wizard, there was a reason for it. He didn't visit other professors. She wasn't even sure he'd ever visited Professor McGonagall. Who could transfigure into a cat! So, the one professor most students were on the fence about being a good one (in so many ways) was the one Crookshanks chose.

And she wasn't fool enough to believe it was anything but exactly that.

Her cat choosing this wizard.

"I just thought he might be able to help. You."

Another low scoff, but this one wasn't quite as venomous as the first had been. She lifted her eyes again. Had she scored a point with that?

"No one would know. I'd tell the headmaster and Professor McGonagall if they see him to let me know and I could collect him when I'm able."

"So, you're leaving him, only to tell others you'll return for him."

"That's presuming he'll let anyone else see him." He was exceedingly sneaky when he wanted to be.

"You don't want your familiar, Miss Granger?"

"Of course, I want him, but…" She took a seat in the spare chair. She set a hand on the edge of his desk. "The idea came to me, and it seemed like it would be a sound one."

"I have no time for a cat, Miss Granger."

"He's rather self-sufficient, but well, I would have felt bad not making the offer if it was something that might be accepted."

"Why you?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, Sir?"

He shook his head, sitting back a bit in his chair. Other people made the gesture look comfortable. Professor Snape did not. There was nothing relaxed about him. Then she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him relaxed.

"Nothing," he said, but she didn't believe him. It wasn't her place to push him. Nor could she, when it got down to it.

"You have no plans for the summer that require your cat?"

"No, Sir." She sighed softly. She wasn't sure where the concern came in. Why she didn't like seeing him hurt. Whatever his role was, he'd chosen it. It still bothered her. "I assume you gave yourself potions and salves?"

"What?"

Thank goodness he sounded more intrigued by her question than insulted. She hadn't meant to ask that question aloud. She gestured to his face, hands, and knuckles then. He flinched, noticeable only because she was looking rather closely at him. He slid his hands from the arms of his chair, dropping them into his lap. Obviously, he didn't want her to see what she'd seen. She gave a shudder at the thought of what he looked like under his robes if what she saw was as bad as it was. Voldemort hadn't even been back a week and already people were already getting beaten. That wasn't a good sign, was it? And people wanted him to return.

Another thought occurred to her. What did those who weren't potions masters look like?

"I am fine, Miss Granger."

Well, obviously he was not fine, but he didn't want to talk about it. Or have it pointed out to him. And by a student. Stupid.

He cleared his throat a bit. "Your … concern is unwarranted. I am fully aware of how to care for myself."

"Of course. I just wondered," she said.

She wasn't sure what exactly she was wondering. If he needed help? As if he'd admit to her that he did. What would he look like without the potions? Because she presumed he took some. God, was this what he had to look for all summer long? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why exactly he'd been punished. What infraction had Voldemort seen him committing when he'd just been brought back? It was none of her business, and she suspected that her … findings as to Crookshanks, and his opinion of Professor Snape were not something to be shared. Even with the man in question.

Nor would he appreciate her curiosity on such a thing. She did want to know, though. She wanted to know if what she suspected was true.

He was working for the headmaster. He had to be, didn't he? That was why he was sitting here, obviously having been beaten. He'd gone to Voldemort. The headmaster would know, and had never seemed to waiver in his trust in Professor Snape in each of Voldemort's attempts to return. Her eyes darted to his left arm, suspecting there was a Dark Mark on that forearm.

She shivered instinctively. His lips curled up into a smirk, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and why she'd just shivered. Perhaps he did. She was rather easy to read she'd been told.

"There are rooms not here in the dungeons you could be in tonight, Miss Granger, I'm sure. And are likely missed from."

Yes, her absence would be noticed.

"Of course, Sir. Really, I just thought he might help."

"Your … gesture is appreciated, but unnecessary."

"Okay. Well," she said, standing again. "I really do hope you're safe, Sir."

"You seem to be the only one. In this, I will say the gesture is appreciated and necessary."

Oh! She bit back the smile that threatened to come at those words.

"See you in September then."

"Unless someone talks sense into you, I imagine so."

She'd thought of that actually. Every year. With every attempt. What would she do if he actually came back? She decided that she wouldn't stay home. She felt safer here at Hogwarts than she would at home. The headmaster was going to be a little busy now, so wouldn't be able to protect a former muggleborn student. Add to that, anyone who was anyone would realize that even if she wasn't at Hogwarts, she'd still be doing her best to work on the problem herself.

So, researching at home unprotected with no real way to keep abreast of the situation. Or researching at Hogwarts with some protection and getting information almost immediately. Her decision was made for her, even though she took his words to heart. And took them to mean he'd thought of her safety. Probably not just hers, she wasn't turning this into something personal. She imagined he'd want all students safe from violence. Her mind instantly went to his efforts to cast a counter curse on Professor Quirrell's attempts to make Harry fall from his broom.

"Good night, Sir."

"Good night, Miss Granger. Safe summer to you as well."

She made her way out of his classroom then. She stopped, turning around when she heard a sound. It was not the door closing behind her. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted Crookshanks trotting toward the doorway she'd just come through from the other end of the hall. She shook her head a bit, but took it as a sign that his mind hadn't changed about her potions professor since last year.

So, that meant her professor hadn't changed. Or, rather, Crookshanks' opinion of him hadn't needed to be adjusted. So, if he trusted him last year and still did this year. Things were the same, despite Voldemort's return.

She just wished she knew what it meant . Why didn't anyone but the headmaster, and her familiar, trust him? She supposed she would have all summer to try to figure it out. It and how to get through the next school year alive.

She gave a soft huff as Crookshanks disappeared into her potions classroom with a soft meow that she couldn't be sure wasn't meant for her professor, not her. The door closed behind him.

She really would have left him here if it would have helped. How it would have helped, she wasn't sure. At least he hadn't kicked her out or made fun of the offer.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com