I'm back! As you know, this story can be triggering for me, so the uptades might take a bit longer in between than my other stories, sorry about that. Thank for the understanding!

I fear this might be slightly out of character for Snape, not in actions, but in thoughts. I'd imagine that since we have no canon thoughts to follow from him it might not be as obvious, but it was an insecurity of mine. So, I hope you like it!

Severus Snape was horridly good at pretending, even better than Eleanor Laurent, an actress for a living.

Eleanor always had one single character to play. She was good at charming, at smiling and batting her eyelashes until her victim came towards her, willingly believing that she wanted him as much as he wanted her while she silently died inside time and time again. She was to make her believe that she was only good for being abused, used, hated, spat on. She was good at pretending she was not a person, just a thing.

Severus Snape was good at pretending to be nothing at all – not a person, not a character, not a thing. He was good at being there physically and make others believe that he was listening, while he stood stoically, still as a stone. He was good at making people believe that he was not to be messed with, because he was so much stronger and so much wiser than they could ever believe they would become in their life.

Together, it was chaotic, awkward show to watch.

"Stir slower," he said dryly.

Eleanor's arm slowed. She glanced to the side, trying her hardest to see any unsatisfied reaction out of the professor, but his face continued as blank as it usually was. He didn't seem to mind being watched as long as she did her job well enough for the potion to be decent at the end of the day.

The 'Doxycide Potion' was good enough. It was horrible smelling and black coloured, as it was supposed to be. It was cooling down near the sink, the steam was going out of the window. It was better like that, the foul-smelling thing didn't need to stink up the whole kitchen, let alone the whole cottage if it was by the windowsill. She had given him permission to take it back with him to Hogwarts on his way out, considering that Hogwarts was short on it and there were a few classrooms infested.

Now, she was preparing a Pepper Up Potion. She had yet to make any mistakes.

"You may keep that one," Severus said, suddenly.

Surprised, Eleanor looked up at him again.

"What?"

"I've already told you –"

"Pardon me, sir?" she corrected.

Severus gave a tiny nod of appreciation of politeness even though she had cut him off to correct herself. He pressed his lips together, unsure of what Eleanor was asking, still he found the words to say something in return.

"It can cure the common cold, but it can also be used as a... helper in moments that things are too difficult," he said, voice firm, but words hesitant. He wasn't sure that was his place to say those things. "When getting up is difficult, drink it."

"I might as well drink it every day," she said, playfully.

He looked at her, seemingly disgruntled.

"Not every day, surely," he answered.

Eleanor looked down at her potion again, glad to remember every step from the top of her head. She would have to make quite a few times if things continued in the way they were. Her loneliness was growing, and the visitations from the two professors she had contact with was doing very little for her.

Severus tried not to think of his own mother when he saw the haunted look behind Eleanor's eyes.

"Despite your wishes, do not drink it every day. Though the chances are slim, if used in excess, the potion can be addicting," he said, pushing his thoughts away. "Drink it in the worst days only."

She nodded, pursuing her lips slightly. If he didn't know any better, it would almost look like she was pouting, but someone like her wouldn't do something so silly as 'pout' because a medicine given to her was addictive.

It was then that it crossed Severus' mind that he had no idea her habits connecting to addictions. It was a stupid thing to forget to ask about, especially taking into consideration all the trauma that Eleanor had gone through; it was common sense that people that went through traumas, especially the younger ones, had a bigger chance to depend on drinks and drugs as an aid to get through the day. If he went back to the first few times that he had seen and interacted with Eleanor, he could think that addiction was not something she had going on – her biggest problem was her depression and perhaps her PTSD, especially with her Emergency Occlumency Shields falling after getting away from immediate danger, but she had not been 'dope sick', as many would call it, she had not caught as much as a cold. Still, she had been in her godmother's house almost for a week before she had gotten in contact with Dumbledore, which was time enough for the worst of the withdraw to pass. Eleanor only moved six months after the first contact.

Severus couldn't know if her breaks from reality could be her Occlumency shields or withdraws.

"I don't know how it happened out there in the world, but I will keep you away from anything that can mask your thoughts and ability to work through your schoolwork if I believe that you are in need of intervention," Severus said.

Eleanor blinked at him, taken aback by his words.

"I'm not a druggie," she said, narrowing her eyes.

He noticed the missing 'sir' in the sentence but took her offense as defensiveness.

"I have no way to be sure about that," he told her.

"I don't use anything I can get addicted to," she said, voice firmer than before.

Severus thought for a second, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

"Not on purpose... not because you wanted to," he guessed.

She shook her head, top lip curling as if she was baring her teeth.

"As if they would somehow find a way to make things easier for us. Who wants a girl that can't refuse when they can get one that fights back?" she said, words spat towards him with such bitterness that he could taste them in his own tongue. "My uncle was a lot of things, but he wasn't merciful at all, sir."

Once again, he decided to pretend that nothing had happened, including the conversation they were just having.

He looked away from her, turning to grab his briefcase and casually gather a few of the parchments he had brought, including the essays she had written and he had already corrected (her grades had gone above expected, making a single mistake in only one of the two essays). Snape wasn't even looking at her when he decided it was time to go back to Hogwarts almost a full hour early.

"You did both of the potions that I taught you today with excellence. I will take the Doxycide Potion with me for the sake of using it before its shelf life ends, the Cottage is well-taken care of and you have no problems with such a plague here. I cannot say the same for a few forgotten classrooms in the dungeons," Severus said, putting the flasks he had shared the potion into his bag. "I'll leave the Pepper-Up Potion here, but if I notice the ingredients missing or the after-effects of it lingering for longer than usually in you, I will stop leaving ingredients for you to train and will only allow you to brew under supervision."

Eleanor's mouth opened, eager to say a few more choice words to him, but his dark eyes turned to look at her so blankly and coldly that she had changed her mind, scared to cross the line and be punished by his anger afterwards.

While Severus wasn't a danger to her, his anger certainly wouldn't be fun regardless of his lack of desire of hurting her. At the end of the day, men are men and they don't deal well with being challenged and confronted by anybody, especially a woman – and not only she was a woman, he had made sure to let her know she was his student, his subordinate; she was under him in every hierarchy she could form in her mind, and she had no interest in making the situation more complicated than it already was.

So, Severus left without another word.

Eleanor watched him leave, feeling her heart double its beats and bile building up in the back of her throat. She couldn't eat without throwing up in shame that night. And for the next couple of days, her heart didn't seem to settle. Her nervousness and shame were growing and leaving her antsy.

Severus Snape came back. He noticed a lot of things at once when he saw her two days after leaving her alone with a potion he feared she would overtake.

First, her hands were in front of her body, fidgeting like an anxious child in front of him in their first day of class. Second, she appeared to be as tired as the last time he had seen her (which meant that she had not taken the potion). Third, her lips were dry and hurt, probably because she had bitten down on it until the skin broke. Fourth, she was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt (a rare occurrence, given that there was as single short-sleeved shirt in the Cottage, according to Minerva's listing for her wardrobe) and her wand was shoved carelessly in her back pocket.

"Good morning," he said, voice drawling on as he took her in.

She didn't look at him, eyes wandering naturally to his briefcase, looking for the parchments he would give her to read and memorise about a new spell, hex or jinx, perhaps he would give extra potion parchments though it was Defence Against the Dark Arts' class.

Her anxiety wasn't ignored. Her lack of focus was hard to not see.

"Good morning, sir," she answered.

She bit her lip again.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Surprised that he had asked, she looked up at him again, raising her eyebrows carefully, eyes widening without a blink, unwilling to miss anything that might happen in that surprising day. She couldn't find the answer or the words at first.

"I didn't drink it," she answered.

He scoffed. "I know."

"Then, I don't understand."

Severus gave a loud huff, putting his briefcase on the ground beside the front door. He had not entered further into the house with Eleanor standing in the entrance corridor, not wanting to get too close without her noticing his intentions. He leaned against the wall to the side, shrugging off his loyal cape, much to her growing confusion.

"Do you have any symptoms that I should know about? Headaches, muscle weakness, failing magic?" he asked, being clearer.

"Oh. Forgive me, sir. No, just tired," she answered.

"Then, today the class will be practical. You know enough of the theory for now, I want to test your doing it," he said. "I'll teach you the Disarming Spell and the Shielding Spell today, and you'll test them with me outside."

Eleanor's eyes glanced over her shoulder towards the door of her bedroom, the only way through the house to the protected garden. While Severus was one of the safest men she knew, she had no intention of going into the bedroom with him – though a small, traitor voice whispered that he didn't need a bedroom to do anything against her; if he wanted to, he could overpower her in the kitchen, in the sitting room or even outside.

Besides that, another thing had made her insecure.

"Sir, I... haven't been outside since I got here," she admitted, gulping.

If he was surprised, he hid well. For that, she was grateful. She didn't need him making her feel weirder than she already felt by looking at her as if she was a wounded deer, looking at the headlights of a second car coming to run her over. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was scared regardless of McGonagall's and Dumbledore's assurances that the outside was just as protected as the inside of the Cottage. While they had tried time and time again to convince her to go out to get some sun and walk a bit, she had been unwilling to even try.

Outside, the world was a lot scarier than the inside seemed in her mind. There were no walls and no fences that would protect her, even if the invisible wards she could feel still surrounded her with warmth and safety. Outside, she could see, which meant that she could be seen (and yet, logically, she knew she wouldn't be seen, not the wards there). It didn't matter she was protected. She didn't feel safe.

"We'll be in the back of the house, away from the road," he said.

"The garden, yes, I know. I wanted to go there and take care of it, but I... can't," she admitted.

She hadn't tried, truly. The idea alone was scary enough for her to put the idea away.

Had he been a different man, Severus would've asked her what made her scared and logically argued why she shouldn't be scared, listing things protecting her and reasons for those fears to be not-real. But he was Severus Snape, and he couldn't afford for her unrealistic fears to haunt his teachings and her learning.

"I'll be there," he said simply.

Eleanor pressed her lips together and sucked them in, making them turn white as she covered all her teeth, watching him carefully and measuring his words. Her eyes turned distant as she went deep in thought.

He was, by far, a much more experienced wizard, and Dumbledore had been the one to send him over to teach her 'defence'. It had to count for something towards his abilities with his wand and duels. Surely, with that much, she could trust him, if not for his own abilities, for Dumbledore's wisdom.

"Can we go through the front door?" was her only question.

Without looking, Severus reached behind him and turned the doorhandle, opening the front door a sliver in answer. He watched her shoulders sag with relief for a second before tensing up again. He gave her his back, opening the door completely and walking out of the house, leaving the door open and not waiting for her to follow him.

He turned right, circulating the house to get to the garden. It was silly given that they had been inside, but it wouldn't help them to make her even more nervous to go into the bedroom and library to get to the garden. Had Severus not know of everything that had happened to her, he would glare and complain, perhaps even roll his eyes at her petty request, even worse, he would ignore it completely, but he had to respect her bravery of as much as asking such a small thing.

It took around two minutes, but Eleanor came out of the house, peeking through the side of the house to find him standing in the garden, waiting for her while measuring the place with his eyes.

He made no comment on the time she took.

"Here's big enough," he mused out loud.

Unsure of what to say, Eleanor nodded. Her heart was racing and her throat felt tight. Feeling the light summer breeze made the fact that she was outside too realistic and made her feel exposed, because a wall could protect her from it, but the invisible ward gave her no indication that it was there.

Severus sighed, turning on his heels and pointing his wand away from Eleanor.

"Expelliarmus!" he said, loud and clear.

Light bust through the wand and flew towards the empty space towards the forest that surrounded the cottage, only to be stopped by something invisible. The light was incorporated into the ward and then disappeared.

"The ward is magic in itself, and it feeds on magic. Dumbledore reenforces it once a year, and it can last for a couple of years unattended. A practice duel here will be welcome to strengthen it, even if it's not his magic," he said.

It was his long, tiresome way of ensuring the obviously nervous and trembling girl that she was safe.

"You don't feel safe outside? Make yourself safe," he added.

He turned to face her again, seeing her still half-behind the side of the house, looking at him as if peeking through the crack of a door. Instead of asking her to approach, he just stared back until she came out of her horrible hiding spot and walked closer, stopping a few feet away from him, wand in hand.

She held her wand correctly, though a bit stiffly, as if following a rule book. Probably Minerva had reached that level already.

"Holding a wand in duelling is different than holding it to do basic spells. You will need a better grip," he said, showing his own hand tight around his wand, the whole palm entertaining the wood. "The more skin against it, the better; easier for the wand the pull your magic. Still, you need to have a good movement."

Slowly, Severus unbuttoned his right sleeve, pulling it upwards by a few centimetres, showing how his hand could hold the wand, but his wrist could move around elegantly regardless of the wood. It seemed silly, but it was an important thing to have agility during a battle, not only on the whole body, but on the wrist as well – it was an often-forgotten detail, but the wrist came first, the body could be trained afterwards.

Eleanor slipped her hand farther down the wand, palm enveloping it. Her eyes went to his for correction, but he just gave her a barely-there nod to accept her attempt.

"Let's start with Disarming Spell," he announced.

"It's the one you used, right? 'Expelliarmus'," she said. He nodded. "The wand movement is an upside down 'L'."

"Don't just regurgitate your knowledge, Miss Laurent. Try it," he said.

Calmly, Severus stood a few feet away from her, wand in hand, but not in offensive position. He just stared at his student in expectation.

"On you, sir? Are you certain?" she asked, shifting her weight between legs in hesitation.

He wanted to sigh again. He had already told her to do it, but there she was, hesitating like a fool. He knew that many of his students would kill to exchange places with her for the mere possibility of getting to throw any spell towards him, and she could barely look him in the eye when he was offering himself as a test.

She seemed to sense or see his irritation, because she gulped again and nodded several times to herself, mustering courage without looking at him. She spread her legs a bit, making sure she was balanced, then put her left foot back, upper body moving to accompany the movement, ready to run away if needed.

He needed to fix that.

"Expelliarmus!" she tried.

Though the spell hit his offered hand straight-on, his wand barely twitched in his hand.

"I'm not attacking you back, there's no need to try to run away from me, Miss Laurent. Fix your posture," he barked in annoyance.

Her shoulders tense, but she did shift her upper body towards him again. Her feet didn't move from where it stood, though. Still, her posture was better – if needed, he could correct her more afterwards.

Again, she took a deep breath. This time, Severus felt like it would work, he could easily see she was visualising what was supposed to happen, much like first-year students often did when they attempted the spell for the first time.

"Expelliarmus!" she tried again.

This time the wand moved in his hand, he had to grip it tighter. He gave her a little nod again.

"Again."

He was the one to move his body this time, no longer offering her his hand. He went to an actual duelling position, one foot in the front of the other, legs spread, body turned sideways to his opponent to make a smaller target.

Eleanor copied him, mirroring him perfectly to the opposite side. He was almost relieved that he didn't need to correct her anymore and that she was smart enough to see the correct answer and correct herself.

"This spell might save your life in a duel. This will be a high-pressure situation where spells will be flying everywhere and you can barely hear your thoughts while people scream over one another to get stronger spells," he said.

A clue.

Which she caught.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" she said.

With the focus of visualising the spell's result and screaming the word correctly, her magic moved through her body a lot easier, no longer feeling pressured to hide and make Eleanor normal, but eager to protect her. Screaming often made the body feel like it was in danger or fighting. It would take a few tries from other people, but Eleanor didn't need to do much to bring her body back into survival mode.

Severus Snape's wand flew from his hand into the air.

He shifted, stepping to the side and raising his arm, catching it while it fell. But his casual movement wasn't enough to muffle Eleanor's surprise and happiness to do something as simple as a first-year spell.

Her face twisted in an odd grimace of shock before spreading into a genuine smile. It was quite and muted by the way she narrowed her eye because of the sun, but she seemed happy with her efforts.

"Better," he answered.

She nodded to him, grateful for the word. He ignored her happiness.

"This was me still, not fighting back. It's not how it'll be in the real world," he told her. "I'll let you practice in the wards a few more times before trying a moving target." She just stared at him. He raised his eyebrows. "Go on. You're wasting my time."

She was trying her best to keep herself focus, but it was difficult.

Being outside after so long of feeling protected was overwhelming. Even when she tried to focus on the good things of being outside, like the smell of clean air and some of the flowers that survived through the heat of summer, the fresh breeze of summer, the warmth of the Scottish sun. It wasn't good enough to distract her from how her muscles seemed to tremble or how she felt like she needed to look over her shoulder all the time to make sure he wasn't there.

Eleanor adjusted her wand, feeling the pressure of Severus' black eyes on her back. She felt like her lungs felt tight, her own chest betraying her. She knew that he was watching, evaluating every inch of her, every breath she took. She hated how much of herself she gave away without meaning to.

She rolled her shoulders and got in position again.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell shot forward in a narrow red streak, slamming into the ward. It lit up like flame trapped in glass, then dissolved at once. She gasped quietly – even without a target, her magic had worked, even if only against the air. Her lips curved upward before she forced them down again, catching herself and focusing.

Snape gave no reaction.

"Again," he said, turning his shoulder away from her and strolling to the other side of the garden.

He gave her space, striding unhurriedly and deliberate to where she could see him, but not aim at him.

Eleanor exhaled through her nose and took air through her mouth. She twisted her weight forward on her front foot. He wasn't even looking at her anymore, but that was making her nerves worse.

"Expelliarmus!"

While strong, the flash was even narrower now, pin-point precision against the ward.

"Again."

"Expelliarmus!"

"Again."

His voice carried across the grass, low, unimpressed and commanding. Eleanor swallowed. Her grip slickered with sweat, already getting tired with the exercise. Her body was still recovering from all those years without using magic, it was overwhelming to her body and mind.

"Expelliarmus!"

"You are visualising aiming at the wand itself. That's foolish. Aim for the arm – better yet, aim for the chest. It makes a broader target," Severus instructed.

He stepped forward, standing in front of her again, stopping to turn on his heel and stand facing her. His stare was unblinking. Never had he looked so natural to Eleanor than before this moment – without his swaying robes, with one of his sleeves unbuttoned and staring at her as if he stared at a mirror, he looked almost human.

"Yes, sir," she answered.

She raised her wand again, pressing her feet into the earth under her.

"Expelliarmus!"

The red flare burst forward, this time not so narrow. It branched out, like an outstretched hand of a child trying to grab its mother's skirt for attention. It was aimed at Severus's chest to the right, almost his shoulder. It would be enough to get his wand out of his hand.

He snapped his wand up to intercept it. He didn't counter is, merely deflecting it to the side. Still, she felt something in her chest, shifting into something akin to pride. Her magic made someone so experienced react, which meant it was good enough for him to finally see it as a direct attack.

Severus stared at her for a second, reading her.

He stalked a few steps closed.

"Again."

And she did it. Again and again and again. Eleanor didn't stop. He shifted as though he could anticipate every one of her strikes before she even moved, body gliding around the garden around her magic as easily and elegantly as a professional.

Finally, she knew what a real duel might look like, how a person like Severus Snape would move to make sure he wouldn't get hit. While she was an amateur, she understood why him moving around made a difference; she rarely could hit his shoulder or arm, let alone his wand straight on.

Her breath became sharper, determination flared, but stamina wounded. She wanted to break through, but there was only so much an offensive spell could do for her.

It took at least two dozen attempts for her to actually hit it.

The spell had been broad, enveloping Severus' hand, landing quick and sharp against his wand arm. He had tried to tighten his grip, but it was for naught. The wand slipped from his hand and went to the air, making a bow shaped trajectory on her way down. He had managed to get it back, but it had slowed him down for a second or two – in a real battle, it would've been time enough to get a hit in.

Eleanor gasped, stopping her attacks.

He stopped and looked at her again, fixing his grip on his wand. Immediately, her cheeks felt warm.

Snape inclined his head by a small fraction. It was disguised and barely-there, but she could see his approval.

"Better."

She smiled. He didn't.

"Again," he said.

For nearly another half-hour, he had her aim, cast, fail and adjust her spell into her own style for better use. Still, the range of her Expelliarmus was laughably narrow, and though her shots were precise, they lacked aim and force. He had described it in his head as 'arrows from a child's bow'. However, she had grown sharper through the process, less hesitant, which proved her ability to better herself in field – it was something that Dumbledore would like to know, surely.

She looked at him in the eye once he allowed her a moment of rest.

Eleanor's chest rose and fell heavily. Sweat clung to her temples and the back of her neck, her hair sticking to her face. Her wrists were hurting something fierce as she got used to the new movements without tightening the grip on her wand. Still, she looked flushed and alive, something she had not been for a long time.

It was a fleeting feeling, fragile and easy to miss, but Eleanor was gaining the sense of a sort of strength she never knew she could have. For a moment, she wondered if she could protect herself better now. Not that she needed to protect herself, not with Severus Snape standing there, looking like some sort of guard-dog.

The man nodded firmly.

"Enough," Severus said. "That will do."

She lowered herself, sitting on the grass exactly where she had been standing, barely occupying more space than she had occupied before.

Severus buttoned up the sleeve he had exposed, tightening the clothes around his body again, uncomfortable without his cloak. Sitting on the ground, Eleanor watched silently his clothes now that she had a chance. Severus had a broader chest and shoulders than she had expected, and his arms were bigger than she had imagined. She was surprised that he looked so strong and yet was so...well... not gentle. But not violent.

Snape ignored her sitting form and crossed the garden, looking at something past the ward, distracted.

"We'll move on," he started, voice dropping in a more didactic cadence. "You have the first step in offense, but we'll move on to defensive. You are more likely to survive with defence, if you do not squander and become mediocre at it."

She nodded again from where she was sitting.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The Shield Charm. Protego," he said.

The name of it struck her ears and made her nod again. She remembered the theory behind the spell and the history of the creation of it.

"I don't remember the wand movement," she admitted, eyes flickering to him.

He lifted his wand in demonstration, making a sharp sweep, slicing the air.

"Make it forceful without hesitation. It will not hold if you do not believe it will hold. Defensive magic is deeply connected with your mind and your belief of being able to protect yourself," he told her. He made another movement with his free hand, beckoning her closer. "Get up. Let's try it."

"Oh?!" she made, jumping to stand up. "But how will I know it'll hold?"

"You have to believe it will hold," he answered. He walked away from her, putting distance between them. "I'll throw a spell towards you, a harmless 'Expelliarmus', as we have been doing until now. The most that will happen if your wand jump out of your hands; I'll give you time to get it and we'll try again."

Her lips pressed together, nervous. She knew that believing herself was not a resource she had much of. Still, she nodded, trying to breathe through her fear.

Eleanor took the duelling stance she had seen him doing, slowly he mirrored her. For the moment he waited, she shifted back into balance, spreading her feet a little bit more to make sure she could hold against the feeling of a shove that might come along the Disarming Spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

Her voice had been merely a squeak, not loud enough for it to be forceful, but firm enough for him to hear from where he was standing. It had left her lips in a rush, but it had done its job. A shimmer burst before her in a translucent wall, humming faintingly with magic before settling into a steady glow. Her protection had worked. Her Shielding Spell had held against Snape's spell.

Eleanor blinked, mouth parting in surprise.

Wide brown eyes turned to Severus, trying to find a reaction.

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly in a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he schooled into indifference.

"Hm," he said.

Apparently, Eleanor had more confidence inside herself than she had thought (more than Severus had thought as well). But it wasn't as much as a surprise when Eleanor looked down in her hands, a memory haunting her of the last time she had protected herself – broken pieces of glass, shaky hands, blood on the walls, vomit on the floor, the flickering light overhead. Eleanor had protected herself and survived. And now she could protect herself and live.

"Again," Snape said.

They only stopped hours after the usual time for Severus to end his lessons. Even the summer sky had already turned dark. Eleanor was starting to feel faint after so long training without stop for lunch or dinner, which left Severus feeling slightly bad about it (not that he would mention it), but the sight of Eleanor sitting down while food got ready on the stove was enough to comfort him enough to leave.

As soon as Apparated back to Hogwarts, Severus walked, hands behind his back under his cloak. He could only think that perhaps he should change Eleanor's curriculum to feed her abilities better. She was a defensive fighter and teaching offensive positions and spells more often than defensive to feed the requested curriculum wasn't going to be good enough if the war Dumbledore foreseen really came to terms, then she needed to be able to hold things together for time enough until help came her way.

It didn't matter how much he taught her; Eleanor's personality wouldn't let her fight for long. While Slytherins had a wonderful sense of self-preservation, Eleanor had far too much of it, which made her see herself as a coward, unseeing to her own bravery of surviving – but that was all that Eleanor knew how to do: survive. When push came to shove and duels started, there was nothing she would be able to do besides try to survive, uncaring for the others around her.

He was almost at the dungeons when he scoffed to himself.

There was a reason for Dumbledore to always invite an overwhelming number of Gryffindors to the resistance, because they fought until their magic ran out and their bodies couldn't take anymore, unwilling to take care of themselves unless they saved every last person there was. Slytherins would help, of course, if needed, but they only saved those they could without getting themselves hurt; there was something about never being able to help anybody else in the future if one's dead that really made them hesitate.

But Eleanor wasn't a Gryffindor or a Slytherin. He had no idea what she was, but she certainly was something else – something stronger, resistant, thicker. She was something that Severus Snape could admire from afar in the same way a child admired a character in a television show during a hard time at home; wholly, quietly, innocently.

He hated she was being called into the Order when the time came, not because he wanted to protect her, but because she wasn't strong enough to survive again yet.

If things were as bad as Dumbledore was sure they would be, Eleanor would not survive the war.

So, Severus Snape could teach her to survive without caring for others, without fighting for others in a world that she didn't know completely until a couple of months before, without caring for politics and pride, only keeping her heart beating for longer than the last corpse hitting the floor.

And for that, Eleanor needed Defence.

It was a bit long, right? Sorry. I got overexcited with the training thing. This story, as you might have noticed, is a very slow-burn. I hope you all don't mind it.

Did you like it? What do you think of the characterisations?