Disclaimer: Sigh. No, I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: If you actually like Ginny, this chapter might not be for you.
Hermione was just going to step onto the top stair of the Marble Staircase when she heard Harry calling her name from behind her.
It was a glorious Sunday morning and Hermione was heading down to breakfast. The corridors were filled with dusty sunlight and when she looked out the window, Hermione could see clear blue skies. Birds and owls were singing and fluttering about. A Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor was scheduled for later in the afternoon.
Hermione stopped and waited for Harry to catch up to her.
"Hey, Mione," he said breathlessly when he finally stood beside her.
"And you call yourself an athlete," Hermione teased.
"Ha, ha." He put on an insulted expression, causing Hermione to burst out laughing.
Hermione placed a hand on his arm and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Don't let Ginny know you haven't got any stamina." Somehow she managed to keep a straight face. Harry looked at her in disbelief.
"Someone's been talking to the twins," he said with a proud, parent-like expression in his eyes.
Hermione smiled and nodded. "I honestly think I'm coming over to the Dark Side."
"Dark Side?" Harry inquired.
"Yeah, you know, like," she bit her lip, "being horny and stuff." She whispered the last part, looking around nervously to make sure that no one was listening.
It was Harry's turn to double over with laughter. "Hermione, you crack me up." His stomach grumbled loudly.
"Let's get going," Hermione suggested. Harry nodded and they headed down to the Great Hall.
Hermione turned when she heard her name. Ginny stood at the top of the stairs, a forced smile on her face. Harry's stomach protested again. "Go ahead. I'll be right down," Hermione said to Harry, who dutifully left, eager for breakfast. She walked back to the top of the steps to meet up with the younger girl.
"Harry's mine," Ginny sneered once Harry was out of earshot.
The expression on Ginny's face was beginning to frighten Hermione, a look of pure loathing and wicked hatred. "I don't know what you mean."
"I'm sure you don't," she said with a malicious scowl. "Stay away from him." She poked Hermione in the chest with surprising force. Hermione lost her balance and stumbled backwards, arms flailing as she tried to grab onto something to prevent the inevitable fall.
She fell down the staircase, hitting her head on each stair the entire way down.
XxXxX
She was aware of shouting voices and moving bodies. She could feel a warm and sticky liquid congealing at the base of her neck. Someone picked her up off the cool stone floor.
Then– blackness.
XxXxX
Snape couldn't believe he was sitting next to this girl– Hermione Granger. All he knew was that every day, before and after lessons for the last week, he had been coming by the Hospital Wing to check on her. Sometimes her friends were there, others Madam Pomfrey was hovering around. But when the Wing was empty, save for Hermione, he would pull up a chair and sit next to her, staying until someone else came in, when he would quickly back out as though he had never been there.
On one such night, Snape shivered. It was dark and cold outside the castle, but that was not why his body trembled. The flickering candle beside Hermione's bed was the only source of light in the room. It cast strange shadows over the occupants, giving the illusion that they were not alone. Snape had stood outside the door and waited for Pomfrey to go to her private quarters before slipping in next to the sleeping girl. He made sure that their bodies never touched, though sometimes he rested his feet on the bed and dozed off himself.
He felt a tug at his heart as he looked down on the still figure. She was usually so full of life and it pained him to see her this way. He hated to think what could have happened to her had he not been there to get her to Madam Pomfrey. Five minutes more and she might have been dead. Scolding himself for feeling such powerful emotions for the bushy-haired girl, she vaguely wondered what time it was before deciding that it didn't matter; he would stay until the first rays of sun lit the ward like usual.
His eyes wandered across her delicate features. He wondered what it would be like to brush his thumb along her sharp cheekbone or place a tender kiss on her thin lips. He was just imagining running his fingers through her hair when he noticed movement.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Snape jumped, nearly knocking over his chair. She couldn't know he was here. He hurried to leave, casting aside his want to stay.
"'Fessor?" she called in a very weak voice.
Damn, he thought, but his heart sang, though he pretended not to hear her.
"'Fessor?" she called again even weaker than before. He turned to face her.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Stay," she said with her eyes closed. Snape gingerly returned to his seat. She sighed, sensing his presence.
They sat together in a comfortable silence. She appeared to have drifted off again. He leaned over her, placing one hand on her leg. It was the most physical contact he had allowed all week.
"Is your– is your hand on my leg?" Hermione mumbled, finally getting the words out after a few feeble tries. Her eyes had flicked half open and were now locked on Snape. He nodded.
"Yes," he answered quietly. He left his hand on her leg.
"Because I can't feel it."
A/N: I really appreciate all the reviews. Thanks so much. However, this story is temporarily on hold while I sort out one of my other stories, "Promises Broken." I am truly sorry for the delay, and I promise that more will come to this one, just try to be patient. In the meantime, if you need to satisfy your Hermione/Snape craving, you could always check out "Another Day."