Disclaimer: Don't own Harry, or Hermione, or Severus as it happens, and neither do I own the slight thread of Sense and Sensibility which somehow managed to weave it's way into this story (but it's such a good film, I don't really mind) so don't sue me! I don't own it!
A/N: It's my first try at a Severus/Hermione fic, so let me know if it as bad as I fear it might be. I wasn't really sure if I should continue it, I think this is enough, but if you would like another chapter, feel free to ask. Oh, and yes the story is told from mainly Minerva's point of view because I am very out of practise at writing Hermione, so I hope you don't mind. Hope you like it and R&R please, I'm desperate for your thoughts!
Summary: Hermione has forgotten a book, and forgotten the dangers of lightening. A night in the rain, with complicated consequences. SSHG.
From the Rain
A Severus/Hermione Fic
Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was patrolling the corridors at some unearthly hour of night on a particularly dull Sunday when it suddenly occurred to her that she had left a rather important book at the base of a certain old willow tree in the grounds. She groaned to herself, and stopped by a window facing the grounds to look out. Hermione was rather a tall girl for her age, and though she didn't know it, one of the most beautiful girls in her year. The big-toothed 'geek' who never socialised much and spent all her hours in the library was gone and a confidant woman assured in herself, and who she was, had replaced her.
Her brunette curls were now fuller, and more bouncy and defined, giving her face a softened look. Her eyes had deepened into a gorgeous dark chocolate brown that gave her the look of deep thought and philosophy. She had also grown a bit, so now, she was looking down on most people now in the school apart from Ron and Harry of course. Her new figure had attracted the attention of many of the male population in Hogwarts, not that she had noticed. She had even attracted the attention of a certain professor who normally was immune to such things. But of course, he would never have admitted it, even to himself.
She was in her seventh year of Hogwarts and nearing the completion of her schooling there. The thought of leaving this school though, the one that had become her home more than anywhere else in the world ever could be, and all the dear people she had known here, made her shake with fear and sadness, despite the fact she knew she must. She leant her head against the cool windowpane and looked out over the rolling grass and trees that were now, so familiar to her. The clouds were closing in on Hogwarts, the air hummed with the anticipation of the coming summer storm, and although Hermione didn't really fancy wandering in at some later unearthly hour completely drenched and having someone find her in that state, she found the thought of facing Madam Prince with a saturated book even more forbidding. There was a chance she could save the book, if she left now. She would endure the teasing if she was caught; it was better to be alive in her opinion.
Sighing, she wrapped her light, summer cloak that had been a gift from Professor McGonagall last year, tighter around her shoulders and proceeded down the Marble Stairs and over to the Main Entrance. Just as she was about to open the huge doors, she heard footsteps on the stairs she had just descended and stiffened involuntarily, from reflex. A light step sounded behind her and she recognised that tap as she heard the swift fluttering of robes. Bottle green robes, she knew without looking round. She let her muscles relax as she took a breath, then turned around to face her professor. This woman was the reason she was where she was. Never before had anyone been such a source of comfort and protection to her as she was, not even her parents when they had been alive.
"Professor." Hermione greeted her in a steady tone.
"Hermione." McGonagall returned. "Where are you going at this late hour? Not chasing after some young man I hope." The professor joked lightly. Not that many of her students knew it, but she did have a wicked sense of humour, something Hermione still found slightly disconcerting but took delight in hearing occasionally. Hermione shook her head, trying to restrain the undignified grin that threatened on her lips, though she knew amusement was plainly sparkling in her eyes, just as it was in her mentors. This was possibly what she was going to miss the most of all. Sharing a quiet joke with her absolute favourite teacher with that feeling of companionship that she hoped she would never forget.
"No indeed Professor, I merely left one of my books down by the old willow tree and have just remembered to go and fetch it." She replied, meeting McGonagall's eyes with fearless resolution and a soft smile touching her mouth. Minerva nodded.
"Really. Well, I suggest you hurry my dear; I wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I believe Madame Pomfrey has run out of Sniffles cure in this season of hay-fever." Hermione nodded, smiling more openly at the endearing term her Professor used so casually. She only ever used it in private but it still made Hermione smile. It was so unusual for Professor McGonagall, world's strictest woman, to use that sort of language, especially with a student. It made Hermione proud that to know her professor felt comfortable to use it with her.
"I will Professor, thank you." Hermione replied, smiling still. McGonagall passed her a tender smile of her own before nodding and turning away to patrol some more corridors herself (though they would all be with windows overlooking the grounds so she could keep an eye on Hermione) while her pupil turned and pushed open the doors so she could get out into the grounds. Hermione pulled her cloak collar up and wrapped the cloak around her, the wind biting at her bare skin around her neck and on her hands and cheeks. Her face became sore after only a few minutes and her hands were cold even with the cloak pulled over them. She quickened her pace; lowering her eyes to make sure nothing tripped her hurrying feet.
With a roll of thunder, Hermione felt the first drops of rain begin to fall; slowly gathering in ferocity until it was fair to say the heavens had been ripped open. She cursed under her breath as she began to run, the rain pouring down with such intensity it seemed more like a sheet of water than individual droplets. She fought against the wind and cold, watching the old willow grow closer, to her relief, and soon she had the book in view through her slit-like eyes. Thankfully, it didn't look completely soaked. There was a chance Madame Prince wouldn't crucify her.
She scrambled up the mossy rise the tree covered and stood a minute, under the dripping protection of the willow branches, grabbing up the book with her practically numb fingers and stiff arms while her eyes struggled to focus, having been slit-shaped for so long. The rain was driving down with a force one could expect from a train, and it didn't look like it was going to abate any time soon. Hermione did not fancy making her way back in the same conditions as her journey down. Cursing again, the young woman decided she would just have to wait it out underneath the tree.
She could only clutch the book to her chest tightly, covering the back of it as much as possible with her arms. She realised how she was holding the book and smiled, even while feeling her face muscles tighten in protest. Some bookishness was impossible to get rid of, and Hermione knew if Ron could see her now, he'd tell her to unclench and that it was only a book, not a baby. She snorted in a very Professor McGonagall-ish manner. She knew he'd do the same with his Chudley Cannons annual. Hermione sighed, thinking of a remark Professor McGonagall had made one evening when she had gone to talk with her about an essay. "If Mr Weasley paid as much attention to my classes as he does to that team, he would be good enough to rival even you Hermione." Hermione remembered it well and she had laughed.
Ever since her parents had been killed in a car accident over the summer, she had been growing closer and closer to her transfiguration teacher. Perhaps she was reaching out to find comfort that was now torn from her; perhaps it was because she knew that her Professor was a little lonely especially when Dumbledore was away, but she had taken to visiting her a lot more than other students would dream of doing. It was a nice feeling that she knew Professor McGonagall trusted her enough to really just talk with her, on any subject, and not have to think of what she wouldn't be allowed to say. Hermione wondered if this was the kind of relationship McGonagall had had with Dumbledore in her days as student here. Hermione had checked the Hall of Records, and she knew Dumbledore had already been teaching a good few years before Minerva arrived here. She didn't know whether that reassured her or made her feel a bit uneasy. She didn't want to think that Dumbledore would cross that boundary, with a student, but they were so close, she couldn't help but wonder.
So preoccupied with her thoughts as she so often was these days, Hermione didn't think about the lightening rapidly approaching behind her, accompanying the eye of the storm on it's journey over Hogwarts. She didn't realise the threat to her safety this lightening posed, her thoughts scanning conversations and memories she treasured with a considering eye, a light smile fixed lightly over her lips despite the fact she suspected the blood vessels had retreated so far that they'd turned blue. Her Transfiguration teacher did realise that danger though, almost instantly. Her mind racing with the risk she had so irresponsibly allowed her student to face, Professor McGonagall hurried as quickly as she could down to the Entrance Hall, her cloak flaying out behind her.
Albus Dumbledore, long time Headmaster and friend of Minerva's, heard the ringing of her step on the stair, knowing instinctively who it was, and fled after her, concern foremost in his mind. Minerva was, above all, a logical person and she knew that in her state of health after those stunners, she should not be running as she was now. As they both hurried down to the Entrance Hall, Minerva's concern was proved to be well founded, as a branch was seared from the tree Hermione was sheltering underneath and she didn't hear it in enough time to move. The young woman felt a sharp pain on the side of her head but her thoughts got no further than that. Blackness swallowed her and she collapsed onto the wet, soggy grass, consciousness leaving her as soon as she felt the fall. She didn't register the pain of hitting the mud.
The Headmaster found his Deputy by the Main Entrance door, hand pressed to her chest and struggling for breath but still trying to heave open the huge wooden doors which had blown shut in the wind. It showed how wretched the weather must be to have blown those huge oak doors closed after Hermione had left through them. He didn't waste a second watching, but hurried to her side after calling her name then whispering some choice words to ease her heaving chest. If Albus had been a lesser man, then he would have been slightly distracted by her vulnerability but Albus was not a lesser man. He pulled her hand away from the door that was using all her strength with his own, gentle hold. Her head barely flicked in his direction.
"Albus!" Minerva cried exasperatedly, wrenching her hand away from him and renewing her efforts to get outside, regardless of her own rapidly steadying chest. She hadn't even realised he had used his magic on her. She might have been doubly furious if she could have gathered the breath to voice it, so he was grateful she wasn't aware. Albus sighed and stepped between her and the door, holding up two hands in defence.
"Minerva, please. Explain why you are so desperate to get outside and I will consider stepping aside." Albus told her calmly. Regarding him in her way, Minerva was ever so close to stamping her foot with impatience and exasperation. Why couldn't he just keep his abnormally large nose out of the way? Couldn't he see that there must be a very good reason for her to be using this much of her energy, which the medi-wizard had charged her with saving? She settled for, instead of hexing him that could damage her record and actually hurt him, yelling at him.
"Albus, Hermione is out there! She went out to fetch a book from down by the old willow and now there is lightening coming this way and she is stood under a tree! She has not realised the danger she is in! I have got to get her!" Minerva cried, renewing her efforts to get at the door, her Scottish lilt becoming more pronounced in her every syllable because of her emotion. Albus took hold of her shoulders and led her away form the door forcibly, already thinking of other possible solutions. Minerva couldn't bring herself to break away from his comforting hold and followed him, though her thoughts remained with her student in the grounds.
"Minerva, I cannot let you go in this state. You know very well you should not have pushed yourself even thus far. I will send for Severus, he will fetch her." Albus said firmly, letting go of one of her shoulders to pull out his wand and send a Patronus to Severus detailing what had happened while giving Minerva a reassuring squeeze. Minerva called her thought back to her current situations and considered, seriously. She had to face it, those Stunners (curse Dolores Umbridge) had affected her health and there was no way she could get down to that tree without stopping at least once or twice. Maybe it was better that Severus fetch her. Damn Albus and his logic! Snape would never let her forget this. Pushing that thought away, she took comfort from the fact Albus was still close to her, and his hand on her shoulder gave her more strength than many would think.
"You sent for me Headmaster?" Came a silkily quiet, yet commanding voice from the stairs. They both looked up and there was Severus gliding down to them, an inquiring look directed at the both of them, or more precisely, Albus' hand on Minerva shoulder. Albus knew where he was looking and stepped away, letting his arm drop. Minerva restrained a frown well, at loosing contact with him, seeing as how it was the only comfort she had. She could not understand why, but there was something incredibly assuring about the warmth of his hand. Severus came to a stop a few steps in front of them as his robes and waterproof cloak swirling round him, then coming to rest.
"Severus, thank you for coming. Did you understand my message?" Albus asked quickly, stepping toward the younger man. Severus nodded curtly, but could not resist making a smart comment, sneered mostly for Minerva's benefit.
"Trust Miss Granger to risk her life for a book." He smirked, his lip curling, earning himself a glare from the Transfiguration mistress.
"Severus, if you do one thing to embarrass her I swear I will personally-" Minerva began dangerously but Albus stepped between them and held up his hand again to Minerva, placating her while Severus merely gave her a scathing look, wondering how she could think he would ever do anything to purposefully harm a student, no matter how much he may dislike them (and their new appearance). She knew he would never jeopardise a person whom he cared for, not when she was in real danger.
"I'm sure Severus will do nothing of the sort. He is no more capable of causing her distress than I am." Albus assured her, giving Severus a pointed look which he understood crystal clear. Serious words would be had if something happened to that girl. Minerva refrained from comment, grudgingly. Severus resisted curling his lip again sardonically. He was now sure of the truth of the rumours that he so often heard flying around not just the school but also the staff-room. What most had failed to notice though was a small silver band on Minerva's left hand that matched Albus' style to the inch. He was sure they were married. He, instead of curling his lip, decided to be honest for once.
"I will bring her back to you as quickly as I can Minerva." Severus told the older woman, giving her a glance he usually reserved for Draco or Albus, a comforting glance, before sliding past his colleagues and going over to the huge door. Minerva frowned questioningly at his back as he easily pulled open the huge doors and slipped out into the darkening grounds, his cloak wrapping him in shadows. Albus noted her expression and took her hand, carefully checking for any onlookers before pressing a kiss to the back of it with a warm smile on his lips that was echoed on Minerva's.
"Minerva my dear, trust me. Severus will find her and bring her back in no time." Albus reassured her, tucking her arm under his and leading them both up the stairs to find a window from which they could watch, smiling still at his beloved. Minerva, thoughts still somewhat confused or unsure perhaps would be a better word, allowed him to lead her away, shaking her head in response to his statement, frowning as well but not as sternly as usual.
"No Albus, it's not that. I know he will do the task you have asked of him, and do it well, but…" Minerva couldn't find the right words to express her anxiousness. Albus frowned himself; not quite understanding her speech, for it was most unlike her not to finish a sentence.
"You think he will make things unpleasant for her because of seemingly rescuing her?" Albus offered questioningly, directing her along a corridor that looked out over the grounds in the direction of the old willow tree subtly, knowing she might object if she knew he was steering her, his eyebrows creased. Minerva's mouth twitched into a small, amused smirk and she replied lightly, finally assured of what she was saying,
"Oh I know he will do that, and it won't just be her either, I will be the one he targets in the Staff room after all. I am not concerned about that. Hermione can cope with anything he decides to throw at her; she might even welcome the more intelligent conversation he can give her. No, I just have this… 'feeling' that something is wrong." Minerva's expression was absent as she stopped by a window and looked out, her eyes sweeping the grounds easily for her student. Albus slid his arm around her waist comfortingly and smiled genially, his eyes too sweeping the grass before them. Minerva smiled as well, though not as wide as her husband, at his small gesture of comfort. It was not something they could indulge in often.
"My dear, I never thought of you basing decisions on your gut." Albus teased her sweetly, and her response was a small twitch of the mouth and a sharp dig in the ribs. He knew very well sometimes that was all that could guide a person. Just then, Minerva realised something: She could not see Hermione. Her eyes darted around the grounds, by the trees and the lake, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Horror blanched her face and she gripped Albus' arm even tighter, her knees going a little weak. The Headmaster looked down at her and was shocked by her grey pallor.
"Albus…" Minerva breathed, leaning forward to look further out of the window, hoping her eyes were deceiving her, something she had never hoped before. The other professor watched her concernedly.
"By Merlin Minerva, what is it?" He murmured quietly, "You look pale as a ghost." Seeing she did not react, he tightened his grip around her and bringing her further in front of him to protect her and better shelter her. However, the Transfiguration professor shook her head exasperatedly and pulled back, looking up at Albus with a despairing expression that was most unlike her.
"Albus, I can't find her." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, cracking over the last couple of words and her eyes pleading with him to tell her it wasn't true. That she just was not looking in the right place. Albus' brow creased and he too leaned towards the window, feeling dread settle over his heart. If Minerva could not see her then most certainly would not be able to. She had the eyes of a cat in the dark. Despite this, he searched the grounds visually for himself. There was no sign of her.
"Where did you last see her?" Albus asked in a voice of forced calm, his eyes still sweeping over the grounds as he grasped Minerva's hand in some futile effort to give comfort when he was uneasy himself.
"By the willow tree." She answered, gripping his hand so tightly Albus had to hold back a flinch. He drew in a deep breath and saw a patch of dark moving on the grass, rapidly approaching the tree and his frantic heartbeat eased. For a moment, he had thought things had gone terribly wrong.
"Severus." He let the frown fall from his face and pointed to the moving figure with a long, somewhat crooked finger. Minerva saw, but was not comforted. What if Severus couldn't find her either? What if they had to wait until morning? A thousand different circumstances, bad ones, could have come into contact with her by then; there was no chance on Merlin's earth she would wait. If Severus could not find her, she certainly would. However, there seemed no need for heroics tonight. The black, moving patch had stopped by the base of the willow tree and in the flashes of lightening, Minerva glimpsed a wand. Severus'. He must have found her but it seemed as though Severus was having trouble spell casting.
As Minerva glanced up, she noticed Albus' eyes twinkling and began to wonder. It was not like Hermione to forget a book, or indeed anything at all, and Minerva knew this. She had already been frowning, but now she narrowed her eyes at her husband suspiciously as well. She could see the Headmaster's expression was one of amusement, covered with anxiety, another factor to make her tense even more. Why ask Severus? Why not Rolanda, Pomona or even Filius if he could manage it? Someone that would at least spare her the embarrassment of sharing what they knew with the rest of their House? She saw Albus' interference in this. What was she thinking? Albus wouldn't put Hermione in danger, not if he knew what was good for him…
She pressed her lips together and reserved her questions for later, when she knew her student was safe. She reconciled her silence with the thought that if Albus did have something to do with this, then she would single-handedly remove every hair on his body, by Muggle means. Her eyes returned to the window, and the grounds. Lightening was still flashing, and yet she could not quite make out what Severus was doing. He seemed agitated, and still, she could not see Hermione, though Severus had stopped in the same place Minerva had last seen her. She supposed that perhaps the Potions professor had blocked her from view. She hoped so, if not, then he had stopped for another reason. She hoped he had not come to harm as well.
Albus watched Minerva, and the scene in the grounds with no little interest and observed exactly as he had expected. The storm was interfering with Severus' magic. Albus had complete faith in the young man he had sent, and knew he would think of something, for this reason he had chosen him. Any other would have sent for help by now, but not so Severus. He was always independent, and would find a way to fetch his charge back to the safety of the castle without any magic or help from anyone.
The now very wet professor was indeed trying his hardest to think of a way to get the young woman back up to the castle, but with his magic affected by the storm, he was quickly running out of options. He threw his eyes around, looking for a branch or something he could use to support her, but the one that had obviously hit her was partly rotten and of no use. There were no others. Cursing under his breath, he accepted the inevitability of his only choice. He didn't want to resort to it, it meant allowing something he had not been comfortable with let alone done in years. Letting someone, a student no less, inside his personal space. No he definitely did not want that.
Screwing up his face against the cold, he cursed again and knelt down in the mud, preparing himself for the long walk back with her extra weight. Waiting only a few seconds for another thought to come to him, he took a deep breath, but nothing came to him except the sight of Hermione's lips turning blue (In a few hours, he would be questioning why he had been looking at her lips at all) he leant forward and slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, muttering about incompetent girls and foolish Headmasters, before pulling upwards and lifting Hermione's limp body, which he now had to press against his own.
"Dumbledore will love this." Severus growled to himself, as he turned and started on what seemed a long journey back up to the castle when it had seemed a short, brisk walk on the way down, if a little uncomfortable. The wind was rushing in his ears, rain was driving in his eyes and his skin was whipped raw but he blocked it out and concentrated on the charge in his arms and the path his feet were taking. Eventually, through his half-closed eyes and the ever-deepening darkness, he managed to make out the doors and hurried towards them, his arms beginning to buckle under the weight of the sodden girl he was carrying.
Albus and Minerva, who had been watching Severus' painfully slow approach with considerable relief, finally assured their student was safe and could take their eyes from her, fled down to the Entrance Hall and pulled open the doors together, eagerly awaiting Severus as he stumbled up the steps to half-fall through the doors, guided by the shaft of light now illuminating a slice of the grounds. The sight of Hermione, unconscious, in his arms, was enough to make Minerva blanch again, and she hurriedly withdrew her wand to try and cast several spells on her student, foremost a drying spell to alleviate some of the weight on Severus' arms.
Albus couldn't help finding the sight, now the danger had passed, somewhat amusing. The Potions Master would never have carried her that way unless he had no other choice. Quickly dispelling his small smile, he moved forward to try and lift Hermione from Severus' arms. The young man willingly held her out to him, hoping putting some distance between them would help steady his elevated heart rate that he didn't think had much to do with the walk up here, but in a brief moment of semi-consciousness that was probably the result of Minerva's attempt to wake her, her left hand curled and caught some of his robes in her grip. Though his scowl became as dark as his clothes, no matter how Albus tried to twist Severus' robes from her, her grip remained fast and Severus now turned his glare to Albus' twinkling eyes and the smirk fighting to emerge on the Headmaster's face.
"Get her off me." Snape snapped, his hair dripping in his eyes while his cold robes made him shiver slightly. Minerva had neglected to dry him as well, he reflected. The Deputy Headmistress, who had been trying to revive the student in his arms, sighed in a frustrated manner and shook her head, brushing some stray hairs out of her face.
"I can't wake her up, the storm keeps throwing my magic off." She said heatedly, trying another drying spell for Severus, which failed as well, much to her chagrin as well as his. This, more than anything, made him loose his usually well reserved calm, and let his voice rise to irritated levels.
"Well, shut the damn door and get the Headmaster to do something useful, rather than standing there looking amused!" The Potions professor snarled, trying to hold back the flush that threatened his usual pale complexion though not succeeding very well, only to his own mortification. Minerva threw her own irritated glance at the younger professor before striding over to the huge door and slamming it shut, letting her anger show for a minute on the closest inanimate object to hand.
"Now Severus, there's no need to snap, just because a young woman has attached herself to you." Albus replied amiably, looking even more amused if possible, and hum-hum-ing his last few words. Snape gave the older wizard a glare the likes of which only Minerva had ever attained and Albus lowered his eyes to take out his wand as well, and wave it over Hermione's unconscious body. Nothing happened. Even Albus' magic supposedly had no effect. But then, if this were something to do with the Headmaster, then he wouldn't exactly want to wake her yet.
Minerva, who had hurried back from the doors, saw Severus' expression twist into something between exasperation and another emotion she was hesitant to put a name to. Was it hopefulness? No, no it couldn't be. How could Hermione's small gesture of affection, of which she was completely unaware anyway, cause him to be hopeful? Dumbledore shook his head and, catching Minerva's eye before looking back at Severus, he offered his opinion carefully, trying not to look too happy about it, while Severus flicked his gaze between the two, knowing there was something going on.
"Perhaps it would be best if you just carry her straight up to the hospital wing, I'm sure Poppy will be able to, err, set you free." Snape gave Albus a less than grateful glance at that suggestion, but he was prevented from sniping back by Hermione moving in his arms, in another temporary flit into consciousness, her face turning to him and laying her cheek against his chest with a peaceful smile lighting her features before slipping back into oblivion. Minerva and Albus' eyes flicked between her face and Severus', understanding passing behind their eyes but Minerva hid it better.
Severus' gaze, on the other hand, had immediately focussed on the girl, or rather woman, in his arms and Albus witnessed, for possibly only the second time in his entire friendship with the Potions Master, a small softness pass into his eyes and glitter there for a few seconds. Minerva also saw it, but chose not to believe her own eyes, for the time being. If she did see what she thought she saw, it meant… well, something she had not thought possible. The young man's chest rose and fell slowly, in time with hers, and after what seemed an age, he tore his gaze from her peaceful face to look up at Albus and nod. That's all he did, was nod. But that was all it took for Minerva to know he was a little different from the man he had been a few minutes ago.
There was something different in his air, his face, even his eyes. He, Severus Snape, had had a eureka moment. It was the kind of drawn-out second that only happens once in a lifetime, when your heart leaps into your mouth, the air is sucked from your lungs and your mind spins like a whirling dervish. Severus had remembered many things in that second, how to love, how to be loved, what it felt like to be happy and to be young. It was quite extraordinary, the amount he had forgotten during the long, dark years he'd lived through. Looking back down at the woman in his arms, he felt a warmth seep into him and he sighed inaudibly before lifting his foot and starting for the stairs. In a click, the spell was broken and the other two found themselves able to move, and talk, while Severus' expression drifted back to his usual, sour, closed mask.
Minerva glanced at Albus before she hastened after the black-clad figure and took Hermione's hand, the one that wasn't wrapped in Severus' robes, in her own and squeezed it in hopes it would wake her unconscious student. Alas, it did not, but it made the professor feel slightly better for having contact with her. Albus, who spared himself a light, very quiet chuckle, also turned and proceeded after them with no little feeling of satisfaction. He saw the change in Severus and it made him very happy. He had hoped this would happen soon, he had planned it so. Now, perhaps Severus would realise what had seemed exceedingly obvious to the person who knew him best.
Minerva pushed open the Hospital Wing doors and, ushering Severus towards a bed in a corner, she strode quickly over to Madame Pomfrey's office door and let herself in silently. It was a brave thing to do, Poppy was not known for her morning charm. Albus followed the other professor, who had set his charge down gently on a white-sheeted cot at the end, nearest a window. Her hand was still clenched on his black robes, but some colour had comeback to her cheeks and her breathing was coming a little easier.
Albus noticed this with a smile of relief, but Severus was preoccupied with trying to disengage Hermione's hand again, now his own were free. No doubt he was concerned how the matron would react to his new attachment to the woman in her care. A few seconds later, Minerva emerged from Poppy's office with the medi-witch following close behind, pulling on a dressing gown and scowling, as was expected. It was only then they all realised how late or early it was. Albus stood back and let them get closer, his eyes clouding over with concern again, just as Minerva's were. Her injury, though not serious (he hoped) had not been part of the plan and he could feel his stomach twisting as guilt began to build.
Poppy rapidly checked her vital signs and a relieved look filled her face when she felt a strong pulse and deep breaths. Having been thus assured, she moved on to run a diagnostic spell, which eventually pointed her to cause of Hermione's condition. Poppy went to move towards Hermione's head, expecting Severus to move away (she hadn't noticed the hand in his robes) and when he remained in her way, she frowned ferociously at him, while he lowered his eyebrows. She looked pointedly away, and he glared back at her, indicating the hand and then softening his look, implying her to please do something but the medi-witch was a little too busy smirking, enjoying his discomfiture. He frowned back at her and tried once again himself to twist his robes free but it was completely futile. Taking pity on him, she leant down and whispered a few words over her patient, passing her wand over the unconscious body.
Severus watched carefully as Hermione's eyes flickered open for a few seconds and her hand unclenched long enough for him to yank his robes away from her. As the material slithered form her fingers, Hermione's eyes opened again and she turned her head to look at the professor before her, a strange smile sliding over her mouth. Severus stared down at her, and Minerva had to look twice before she could believe the small, indescribable smile on the Potions Master's lips. It spoke of disbelief, mixed with a tiny splash of pleasure.
Whether it was in response to his display, because she saw it too, or simply because she wanted to, Hermione then did something very unusual and very sweet. She raised her arm imploringly and he dropped down to her eye level. She leant forward and gave him a short kiss on the cheek, passed a few light fingertips over where her lips had touched then grasped his hand before her head fell back on the pillow again, that haunting yet comforting smile ever present as she fell once more into darkness.
The young man blinked, and unknowingly squeezed her hand, as if to be sure she was real, and his smile, the one Minerva was trying to ignore and Albus was struggling not to burst with gladness at, was widening. Poppy also blinked a few times, then scowled and went around Severus very pointedly, her eyes lingering in a disapproving way on their joined hands before she stood quietly by Hermione's head, her swift and deft hands searching gently for the cause of Hermione's trouble, which her spells had pointed her to.
Minerva instinctively moved closer to Albus as Poppy searched, and Severus also moved an imperceptive distance closer to Hermione. There was incredibly, some colour in his cheeks and the concern he felt for the young woman in his care, yes his care, was deeply etched in his every feature for those skilled enough to see it. Again, the difference in the man was palpable and Minerva could no longer ignore it. He seemed more human, less of an ethereal being, or a spectre. There would be some awkward questions to answer about tonight, but for now, she could just be happy for him. His soul had been dragged up, somehow. Albus had to have some hand in this… If he did, then she would reward him in some way, after showing him how displeased she would be if he ever did something like this again without consulting her first.
Poppy finished her examination and came back around Severus to talk to her friend, but before Minerva could find out exactly what was wrong, the first of the awkward questions began. She knew what was coming as she caught the gleam in Poppy's eyes and signalled to Albus to go to Severus and let her deal with the matron, the only one ready to challenge McGonagall at a time like this. Her husband brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it before sliding past Madame Pomfrey, barely looking at her, to stand by the Potions Master and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder.
"Minerva, what are you going to do?" Poppy hissed, as she halted a few inches from the Transfiguration professor and flashed a look in her eyes. Minerva decided she would have to feign innocence until she knew the answer to that question herself. She, Albus, Severus and Hermione would all need to discuss something at another time, when the other two had had a chance to talk to each other, preferably when Hermione had complete command of her wits. What exactly the 'something' would be, remained to be seen. What compromise is there in a situation such as this? There had been none for Albus and herself. However, Poppy did not need to get any more involved than she already was. Perhaps a memory charm would have to be employed in this case, to safeguard a relationship Minerva was still having trouble with herself.
"Do Poppy? About what?" Her tone was light, so light they might have been discussing the weather, and her face was as blank as a spare sheet of parchment. Albus had often said she was a wonderful actress and though she thought that was a bit of an exaggeration, it was now time to put those skills to the test in a situation when they were really needed. It wasn't as though she expected Poppy to believe her; she just wanted to put her off.
"Don't play fool with me, Minerva. I know that smile; it's the same smile you used to wear, a long time ago, when you did actually smile. I never dreamed I would be worried about Severus breaking this particular rule, but even I know it is a rule, none-the-less." Poppy hissed back again, though why she troubled herself to lower her voice at all, when she knew the poor man could hear every word, Minerva didn't know. It was rather unfeeling of her. But then, every one had a different moral code, and she could hardly be called unbiased in a situation like this. The Transfiguration Mistress could see Poppy was in a belligerent mood, such was to be expected when she was woken this early, and ordinarily, Minerva would have continued talking to her, but she needed to find out how Hermione had ended up unconscious and was there anything she could do. Even if it meant taking Severus away, for the time being.
"Poppy, I am well aware of this, having been Deputy Headmistress for many years now. Let me be concerned with the ethics. What about Hermione?" Minerva asked in a commanding tone that tended to signify she meant business, while she drew herself up to her full and imposing height. Poppy, who was considerably shorter than Minerva, looked up at her with a stern twist on her lips and for a moment, she seemed to consider answering back and continuing the awkward questions, but after a few seconds, her eyes flickered to Severus and Albus' backs, and pity filled her eyes. There were old memories in that look, of confidences Minerva and her had shared as friends when they were much younger. The tightness around Poppy's mouth eased and she looked down, pulling on her dressing gown belt and coughing a little.
"Yes, well, Hermione suffered a knock to the head, she will have concussion and has a small tear in her scalp, but that will heal. Nothing serious. She will also have a horrid headache tomorrow, and will probably have dizzy spells for a few days, that I can't do anything about, but she'll be fine within a week. I'll keep her in overnight, and perhaps for tomorrow, if she feels any worse than I thought." Poppy answered her friend, delivering a clipped and precise report that as typical of the medi-witches determination to do ever more good for the people she looked after.
Minerva breathed a sigh of relief as she heard that, though the "tear in her scalp" did make her a little worried. She raised a hand and let it rest on Poppy's folded arm, a silent thank you for both the reassurance and for letting the other matter drop. The nurse smiled a bit and patted a hand on Minerva's for a few seconds before she moved away and bustled off to the potion cabinet to get some pain relieving tonics and concussion treatment. The other woman watched her go, before sliding over to the other occupants of the room, a weight laying somewhat uneasily in the pit of her stomach that she knew was everything to do with the young woman lying unconscious before them. As she took up vigil as well beside Albus, he saw the hesitant and strained expression on his wife's face and he knew what road her thoughts were taking.
Unwilling to follow them just yet, he snuck a hand around her waist and brought her gently closer to his side, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She smiled faintly, grateful as ever for the comforting strength of her husband, as she leant her head against his shoulder, regarding the Potion's master and her young protégée. She felt in a vague way that she should have seen this coming. Severus had always pretended to be very averse to Hermione, yet tonight he'd rescued her with barely a word, and now he was looking at her as if… well, Poppy was right. It was the same look Albus and her had used to share when she had been that age. But they had had to wait. There had been no understanding; they had not been able to share their secret with anyone for many years.
Was it fair to impose the same punishment upon these two? She could feel the disciplinarian in her fighting with the loving wife and partner she had been for so many years. The rule verses her own experience. She pushed it away determinedly. She could see in Severus' eyes he loved the young woman she cared so much for, and she was glad of that. Hermione obviously felt a similar way, which she was also glad of. They both deserved each other, they were intellectually a good match and they were complimenting personalities. But she was still a student, and Severus was still a professor. Minerva could not see a way around that code of ethics. She took a deep breath and nuzzled her head closer to Albus, letting his scent waft into her senses and relax her. While Albus was there, a way could be found. She pushing the whole problem away, and surveyed the scene before her as a friend. Happiness swelled inside her at the thought these two would be so happy together.
They would be together. They would find a way.