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Summary
“You’re still protecting me,” she states. “Why?”
In a blur of black fabric and the sharp scent of blood, she’s slammed against the wall so hard it knocks the air from her lungs, her wrists caught and pinned above her head, Snape’s body locking her in place.
“Because you, Miss Granger, are easy prey.”
Someone is leaving Death Eater corpses on Hermione's doorstep. Like a cat offering its catch, convinced of her inadequacy to provide for herself.
Yet instead of disgust, it stirs a dark yearning within her.
Someone out there understands.