**********...********

*********...************

Severus heard a distant noise intruding his peace. He was feeling so good were he was and he didn't intent to move an inch in order to bother whatever balance had caused this state upon him. He liked it. He could remain there forever. He remembered no
other state to begin with, but even if he had known, nothing could have been compared to this one.

no no...

He smiled and stretched his fingers that touched a weird softness. He couldn't well identify what it was. In order to do that he'd have to open his eyes and he simply didn't want to do that. His breath stirred that softness which landed upon his nose
tickling him lightly. It simply felt beautiful.

beautiful...that was not a word that for some reason he could connect with himself, although he couldn't tell why. He was feeling something beautiful all around him. His body was void of any pain and he was as relaxed as anyone could get. And
yet there was something that was bothering him slightly. Heard from afar, that noise was intruding into his silence, into his comfort zone.

He didn't need any external factors shifting his balance. He wanted that noise to go away. He stirred his fingers again and the softness fell on his face this time. He smiled wanting to just exist in this void in the exact prone position he was in with
his eyes closed. Oblivion fell on him like a blanket, but this time it didn't remain for long. The moment the noise started again the oblivion was ruthlessly lifted from his body. He felt himself being drawn away from the emptiness and something else
begun taking the place of his serenity.

Annoyance...

He tried to ignore the constant mumble that was drilling holes on his ears. He tried in vain not once but many times to return to his sated state. To lock everything outside his complete darkness and to remain there happily for the rest of his forever
after. Just when he was close to achieving his goal the constant jabber drew him back again.

The place where he was in felt like a world that had stopped turning. It had such a fulfilling sensation. Therefore this noise reminded him that the world hadn't stopped turning. Someone else was in it also and they were wholly bothersome. He tried hard
to will this voice to stop. He put all his mental power to make it stop speaking to him. To make it go away.

Leave me alone, go, leave me alone...and he counted. He promised he would count to one hundred and if the voice was not gone by then, he would need to open his eyes to see what was going on around him and maybe tell them face to face to bugger
away from his world. This was his world...how dare they?

One - two-three-four...his brows relaxed, ...twenty-twenty one-twenty two...his fingertips caressed the softness under them...fifty four-fifty five...his lips upturned to peaceful smile...ninety nine-one hundred...he
remained silent, checking for any noises around him.

Nothing...

Everything was peaceful...thank Merlin...the voice had stopped. Whoever it was, they have left him alone. The feeling of wholesomeness covered him again and he willed the darkness to envelope him again.

It did. It slid up his body and mind slowly offering him...

Blessed Oblivion...

'This Mariette is a strapping wench. As I am sitting down at a table at the back, a red faced man starts coughing furiously while she is pouring him a vermouth' ...the same voice said and this time it was not a distant jabber. It was crystal clear and
spoke almost onto his ear. He drew a sharp breath and tightened his eyes. His fingers grabbed the ground underneath.

NO!...he cried inside his head and cursed the Gods that were cursing him. He had only wished for peace, nothing more and he had it. That damn voice shuttered it to pieces. Why did he need to know about that Mariette that was a strapping wench?...who would ever use vile language with me ...and
about an old man that was choking on his own spit? Why couldn't they keep their business to themselves and leave him alone? He raised his head slightly and pressed his forehead to the soft ground. It felt moist. Where the hell was he anyway?

No. He didn't want to know where he was. He didn't care. He only wanted to be left alone, but it seemed that the bothersome voice had a different opinion.

'I am sure you wouldn't have approved of me calling the woman wench Professor, but I can't alter the book now can I? He has a reason for calling her that. You'll see why as we read more' the voice told him.

He shook his head ...whom is she calling Professor?...what book?...read more?...read more!...the information registered and his eyes flew open in milliseconds. At the same moment he closed them again, for the brightness around him was blinding.

Curse you...he hissed and tightened his fingers on the ground...He didn't want them to read more to him. Whatever they were reading he didn't like it. He didn't care to hear more. Whoever that was they could go away. Leave him alone. He just
wanted to be left alone...why couldn't they do it?

'I am going to read Eugene Candet. It isn't that I am enjoying it tremendously, but I have to do something' the voice continued it's narration.

...you can shut up...he cursed and he opened his eyes again this time slowly trying to minimise the voice to a meaningless ramble. Trying not to hear the words. Let it at least be distant until he could get up and tell them to shut up, face to
face.

'Candet is a French Novelist, I might read you a book of his later on if you'd like' the same voice said.

...i'd like you to fuck off the face of this earth... dear...he spat towards the melodic voice and he looked in front of him. His brows quirked. So that is what the softness was. His eyes looked closely at the feather that was rightin front
of him. Amidst hundreds of his friends. He was lying face down upon feathers.

Feathers...?

'The husband said with an amused voice. I'd say did you see that?' the voice said.

Yes I did...amazing...he thought observing the feathers around him. Not realising that in reality he had been holding a conversation with the headless voice that rang all around him. He moved his long fingers and touched the feather. It felt
so soft under his sensitive fingertip. He rolled it about. Several other feathers disturbed by the movement of his hand lifted in the air and fell softly upon his face.

He closed his eyes again, but almost instantly they opened up one more time. Having seen these feathers it was harder for him to just close his eyes and pretend they weren't there. They were so pure and white. As his eyesight adjusted better he observed
that it wasn't as bright as he thought it to be at first sight. In fact it was rather dark. It looked like it was somewhere between night and day. Not a sunset and neither a sunrise. It looked peculiar.

mumble mumble...the voice spoke again. It was not as if it had ever stopped talking. It was more like that he was managing to drift off away from it for a few minutes. Not that this lessened its effect on him as It was nettling him constantly.

He wondered briefly if closing his eyes again and pretending not to to hear, would bring back that blessed oblivion. He debated moving for what seemed an eternity, but the need to see how far off those feathers were going was very strong. He also wanted
to catch a glimpse of the rest of the world around him. It felt silent and pacified apart from that bothersome voice.

Blah blah blah ...the voice continued. It sounded softer somehow. More like, withdrawn in itself. Lost in the worlds that it was reading about. It was better this way. He finally decided to raise his head. Effortlessly it obeyed him, his long
hair disturbing the feathers all around that rose up in thick clouds only to fall softly to the ground again. He leanedon his elbows and looked up.

so beautiful...the scene in front of him was almost breathtaking. He was, for lack of better description, in the middle of clearing that was surrounded by a dense forest. Only he didn't seem to recognise this location at all. Around him were
flower patches in random spots. They looked so accidental. Like someone's job was to spread seeds equally everywhere, but their bag burst open and the remaining of the seeds all fell into one place. The forest was full of high trees...

Are they cypress?...he wondered and the need to get up and approach them came onto him unexpectedly. Trees covered the whole clearing.

Behind me? ...he turned around leaning only on one elbow and his brows knitted heavily.

A road...

Looked totally deserted and barren. The complete opposite of the forest around him were nature was alive. That was not what was most strange though. At the sides of the road there wasn't any forest. Nothing was there... He watered his lips uneasily.

He tilted his head in query. It looked as if this was a painting and someone had brushed off the edges of the road with a sponge filled with detergent. Circles after circles of the sponge erasing part of the road also leaving a completely white patch.
Even there in the middle of the twilight it was bright white. He didn't want to look down that gravel road. It made him feel nervous somehow. Was this the road that had led him here? Had he walked down that road? He found the mere thought of that
highly disturbing. He turned around hesitantly and tried to find the source of that voice that kept talking.

Blah Blah Blah...a small change of tone there...more concentrated somehow ... Blah Blah Blah...

Nothing. He could see no one. In fact he seemed to be the only occupant of this peaceful scenery. Then where was this voice coming from? He pushed with his hands and came to a kneeling position. And there he saw it a few feet in front of him. The clearing
didn't contain only those lovely flower patches. It also contained a small lake. He observed the black unmoving waters.

black?...

That is when it dawned to him. He passed his eyes slowly around and watered his lips once again. Everything around him was colourless. The trees were almost black. The flowers and grass deep shade of ship grey. The lake waters black. He looked up. The
sky pale grey and the feathers all around him white. Yes it was peaceful and beautiful but something was wrong here wasn't it? ...

where in Merlin's name am I?...he asked himself. The voice was the one that answered to him and this time was not meaningless jabber. It broke through to him clearly. He winced.

'Professor I see my substitute coming. Oh, I think my shift has just finished. Look I'll leave the book here so we can continue it tomorrow what do you think? It's hardly fair for me to take it with me and read to you from a random page again. You'd get
lost that way. I hope you enjoyed my narration and that I wasn't much of a bother...'

no I didn't and yes you were. Go away and don't come back...he thought with a deep frown. This voice was to blame for making him open his eyes. And now he was stuck there looking at the beautiful but haunted environment around him wondering where
in the name of the Gods he was. If that voice had all but shut up, he would still be in blessed oblivion and not confused and rather apprehensive without having a way of knowing where he was.

or who I am for that matter...

Unless of course he stood up and started looking around him. No, he didn't want to do that. The voice was telling him goodbye. That meant that they were going to leave him in peace. And maybe if he lay down and closed his eyes he could get that darkness
to cover him again and manage to forget what he heard and saw today. Just maybe...

I could try...

'I'll see you tomorrow Professor, get better' the voice said and then...finally silence.

get better?...he frowned.

He didn't want to observe the forest and look at the black lake waters. Now that the voice was gone he simply wanted to lay down again. So that is what he did. He slowly levelled himself down to the feathers. In the same prone position he had been before.
A cloud of feathers rose around him and then covered him all over. He felt them falling upon his eyes, lips, cheeks and forehead. One last look upon his hands. They were covered in fluff. The voice was gone and he was alone. Maybe he could forget
what he had seen.

Maybe just maybe he could stop thinking that the softness upon his cheek was feathers. That the road behind him looked like it had no past, present or future on it; And that the lake waters looked like a mirror. A dark mirror that waited for him to get
closer so he could see his reflection on it. So he could see who he was. She had called him Professor. That woman's voice had called him Professor once too many times...maybe that could be a start, or maybe not. He closed his eyes heavily and breathed.
Several feathers caressed his cheek.

now that I know what they are, they are not so soft...somehow...he thought and tried to draw the darkness upon him one more time. Bring back the silence within.

****...****

Hermione woke up rather tired from last night, but it was not as if she had any real option as to the hour of her awakening. Someone was caressing her bum with something hard but at the same time soft.

Marcus...for the love of Queen Mab...

A hand slid up her thigh making her shiver and a warm wet tongue licked up her shoulder tracing her collarbone to her neck. He had woken up stiff and as it seemed and he was in a mood for love. Hermione felt her mouth sticky and she also needed to pee.

'I see you slept well' she said.

'Mmmm' he murmured and ground behind her.

'Marcus I just woke up! I need time to get worked up you know that' she tried to pull his hand away. She was so dry that he was slightly hurting her. He pulled his hand away and licked his middle finger. Then he placed it on her again. A warm feeling
started forming in her belly.

'Would that do the job for you?' he asked teasingly straight into her ear.

your mouth might have been better...but that was asking too much of him. He had made it quite clear from day one that he didn't like performing oral to women, but he didn't mind her giving him a blow job. In fact he loved it. Unfair? Maybe more
like a deal between partners. It was ok for her pretty much. She had never expected a great love life. She was satisfied with what she had.

'I really need to wake up' she said trying to slide off his finger as it had gone dry again and it was chaffing her sensitive skin.

He pulled away truly bothered and turned the other way "Fine leave me like that..." he cursed under his breath.

She felt the need to laugh at his childish reaction, but pushed it down "Don't be so childish. I am tired and I need to pee and take a bath. Sleep some more"

or jerk yourself off, after I leave...

"Cold as ice..." he muttered.

She shook her head and with a bothered wince entered the bathroom and got into the tub. It was Sunday morning and on these mornings they usually both stayed in bed late. It was the only day of the week where they could sit down doing nothing, but messing
with one another, but this Sunday was different for her now. She had her shift to take care off. And it was a task that she was looking forward to. It has been a whole week. More like 8 days since she has started the monitoring of Professor Snape.

Eight unchanged days and nights were his heart rate and blood pressure remained stable as always, but not improving. Poppy said that the poison was almost out of his body and that the potion that Hermione made, did it's job very sufficiently. Why was
he not stabilising on his own then? They didn't know. She could only guess that his body was very fragile and tired. So he still needed monitoring and they were still doing it. Pomona, Minerva, Poppy and her, round the clock.

Also things outside the school were not good either. At least a dozen photojournalists and reporters sat round the clock on all the exits and entrances of the school. No one could come or go without being flogged over by these men and women that
demanded answers about the lost war hero that was lying on the hospital bed trying to live.

Minerva had placed special wards to the school so no one could enter but still they felt trapped, not being able to move without being chased. Even the secret magical path from the room of requirement to the Three Broomsticks wasn't safe anymore. There
were reporters there waiting round the clock and no matter the tries of the owner to kick them out, more were ready to take their place.

Therefore when yesterday evening Marcus and Hermione finally had the opportunity to dine out with Ginny and Harry at Hogsmeade, they fell victims of this new journalistic madness.

The hunting for Severus Snape.

They had barely stepped foot outside the doors when a large group of people shoved magical quills into their faces and started asking questions.

'Is Professor Snape currently hospitalised in Hogwarts?'

'How is his health?'

'What is he suffering from?'

'Who found him?'

'Is he awake?'

'Has he said anything?'

'Are you sure it isn't an impostor?'

Myriads of questions that neither Marcus nor Hermione were keen to answer. The school was not going to confirm his presence there. The Ministry was already upon their case and were monitoring the whole deal closely. Even the Malfoys found out and Draco
and his father made a humble appearance to the Headmistress asking for an audience with Draco's godfather.

Which was a fair request, if it weren't for the same unaltered factor that messed everybody's plans. That the man was still unconscious. Hermione wondered idly if he were conscious, would he want to talk to all those people? He had fled publicity
for seven years, so she rather thought that he wouldn't. That made things even more difficult for the school. What mood would he be in when he woke up to find out that he was in the exact spot that he had been trying so hard to avoid? At the spotlight?

Her and Marcus had fled the reporters as quickly as they could answering no questions, but only when the reached Hogsmeade and they were one step from the Three Broomsticks did the reporters back off from them. It was Harry that did the job by warning
them that he would have to arrest them for public prosecution. That wasn't the end of it though, because Harry had his own agenda with the man.

If there was one magical person waiting for Professor Snape to wake up so they could talk to him, then this man was her best friend. In the time frame of one week, he had lost weight and his eyes bore dark circles. Which meant that he had not been sleeping
well. Ginny attested that Harry was haunted by the knowledge that Snape was alive and till he had a chance to speak with him, he couldn't rest. Neither in body nor in soul. Hermione knew how significant all this was to Harry. She couldn't have helped
him even if she wanted. Only Professor Snape could offer that assistance, but he was ill disposed.

No one somehow... seemed to actually realise that. It didn't sink into their thick heads. How many of these people actually cared how he was. Not how he was in terms of when he was going to wake up, but how he truly was.

If he was hurting inside that coma. If his heart was still in pain, if he could hear what was going on around him. How it felt for him to be there trapped inside an invalid body unable to move or communicate. Didn't anybody wonder what it really felt
like to him? That was the main reason she kept up the reading sessions with him, upon each monitoring.

Even though after a certain point his monotonic response of bleep bleep bleep to each of her questions or to every passage she read, was starting to feel rather uncomfortable. She felt like she had been reading to his monitoring machines more than reading
to him in person. At least those were speaking back to her. His lack of response though didn't dampen her spirits.

She arrived punctually, she ordered her tea with the elves and then picked up her book and read to him every nonsense she could get her hands on. It didn't matter, if it just meant that he could feel that someone was out there with him, willing him to
wake up that was enough. Somewhere between her long passages she found chances to ask him questions, or make various humorous comments about this and that. Just to spice up things and of course the answer was the never ending bleep.

She winced as she felt the tepid water running down her body and placed her head under the water closing her eyes. No use thinking anymore. She was already very very later this morning. She hurried up through the bath, tiptoed lightly as not to wake Marcus
as she dressed and half an hour later she opened the doors to the infirmary.

Upon first look panic blocked all reasonable thought. There were several people around Professor Snape's bed and that was highly alarming. Minerva was there, Poppy, the two men of St. Mungo, Professor Flitwick and Pomona also. Hermione felt her heart
leaping to her throat in a panicked state and dashed into the room without minding that the door crashed behind her notifying everyone of her presence.

he is dead ...her panicked mind screamed and that moment she saw all of them turn to look at her.

Ah, no, that's not right. When someone dies people don't smile.

She frowned and slowed down her pace silently strengthened by that knowledge. Everyone, or at least most of them were smiling. She offered a smile back at them but her eyebrows remained knitted.

'Good morning what? ...what happened?' she asked upon reaching them and tried to see to the bed.

'Good morning Professor, and isn't it indeed a good morning? ' Minerva said and made room for her to pass.

Hermione saw it immediately and the smile widened upon her lips. The machines were gone. The life supporting machines that were stabilising his heart and enabled him to breathe were gone. The only thing that remained was the IV with her potion, with a
new IV addition to the other arm. She looked at his face and tried to understand what was different about him. The dark circles around his eyes were still prominent but they seemed lighter, which made him look younger, but that was not it.

It was his mouth, which was closed. His lips were not parted anymore trying to struggle with each breath. He was breathing from his nose. She looked at his chest rising and falling calmly. No more quick laboured breathing, trying to cling on to life.
His breaths were long, deep and rhythmical. And there was also another thing. His head had turned slightly towards the window. As if he had moved inside his coma.

people don't move inside a coma Hermione dearest...she scolded and voiced her thoughts.

'He moved?' she asked no one in particular but she was looking at Minerva.

The old witch nodded but Poppy answered 'Yes he did! Last night. Upon Pomona's monitoring' she said.

Pomona smiled and at the same time raised a small white handkerchief and dried her eyes nodding 'She called me and I checked on his vital signs. His heart rate had gone up and it was very stable and his blood pressure had also risen. I called on the doctors
immediately. We had him under check all night, and we decided to unhook him this morning to see how he would do. For almost an hour now he had been breathing on his own' Poppy sounded satisfied and smug.

Hermione smiled unwillingly 'So that means he is out of the coma?' she asked.

One of the Mediwizards answered 'Yes it seems so. The poison is clean out of his body and he is able to move parts of his body. So have to assume that now he is in what we call deep sleep' he said.

'So anytime he may wake up?' Hermione asked and tried not to sound too excited.

The Mediwizard shook his head 'I wouldn't bet on a day to day miraculous recovery. He may have managed to work his heart on his own but that doesn't mean he is out of danger. It only means that he is out of the immediate danger. What needs to
be done now, is careful monitoring of his heart and let him work off the fatigue and illness of his body in order to see if he wants to come back to us' he said.

'The man brushed shoulders with death. Haven't seen a closer call and I am working the field for twenty years' Poppy said 'He needs time. We have done all we could medically. The second IV is the potion for his heart which he needs to take round the clock
in order to strengthen it. A treatment which I might add requires patience and time. Yet he is still unconscious isn't he? No one can bring him back, but he himself' she said and the smile died down upon her lips.

'I am confused. If this isn't a coma and it's just a deep sleep why can't we say, tap his shoulder and wake him up?' she asked.

'Let's just call him on a limbo state Hermione. He is between states. If it was so easy we would have woken him up already by being around him discussing. This man can't hear us' Poppy replied.

I am not so sure about that...

'Or if he can, he can't do anything about it right? ' she asked out loud.

'He has shown signs of being able to control his body partly. He moved his head and the reflections on his hands and feet work fine. Look' one the Mediwizards said. he approached and took out his wand. He turned Snape's palm upwards and placed the wand
at the middle. Slowly he drew a straight line down his palm. The fingers on the hand twitched nervously at the sensations of the wand.

'Previously he was totally unresponsive, right?' she asked the man.

He nodded 'Yes, this means that he is coming back to us. How long will it take him, I don't know. His has an impressively strong disposition. The fact alone that his heart managed to keep on beating and his lungs to keep on breathing after being pooled
with poison for seven years tells a lot about this body's tale. He is a survivor and he is given a chance to overcome his ailments now. What is important is to assist his heart by applying the potion steadily, because that muscle is very weak. The
snake poison that had pooled around his heart for all these years had managed to do a permanent damage to him. It is removed now but the muscle itself needs time to heal. Now that it is free of the poison it has this chance, but time is also needed.
He needs not be disturbed. Do not, and I repeat do not try to wake him up on purpose. Let his mind and body heal on their own pace.' the man said.

'That would be kind of difficult considering that we have half the magical world hanging outside his doors waiting for him to wake up' Hermione said and pursued her lips testily.

'That is where we need to keep them then. Outside. I have told you before and I will repeat myself. No contact with anyone about Professor Snape. Hermione you had a nasty encounter yesterday, and we will discuss it in a moment. First let's make a closure
with the Mediwizards here' she said and turned towards them.

'We are done here. We are not presently needed and if the Professor manages to keep on breathing on his own we are not going to be needed at all from now on. Mistress Poppy has the medication for his heart and the potion for the poison that is currently
out of his body. By tomorrow you should remove that particular IV and leave only the heart potion and the nutrition. There is a smaller monitor to keep an eye on his heart and blood pressure over there...' the man pointed at the small table near the
window. Hermione stretched to see it. It read a comfortable 65 in his heart rate and a 12 over 7 in his blood pressure.

much better indeed...she smiled inwardly.

'...to check on his vital signs. It is connected to us by the same charm as the other spells were. If a change occurs we will be notified. As is we don't need to visit three times a day. Mistress Poppy will take full care of the patient' the man said
and smiled to her.

'Thank you for everything Rotheus' Poppy said.

'We appreciate your assistance very much' Minerva said. The two of them proceeded to escort the two distinguished Mediwizards out of the infirmary. That left Hermione with Pomona and Filius.

'Pomona dear go take a rest. I am here now' Hermione said and rubbed her back softly.

The stout little witch looked at her and nodded 'It was so shocking you know. I saw him Hermione. I was watching at his face when suddenly he closed his mouth. It didn't register to me at first you know. Such a simple action passes off as natural' she
smiled and dried her tears again.

Hermione nodded quietly.

'Then I saw him turn his head sideways and that was it really. I hadn't noticed his heart rate before the incident so I don't know if his heart stabilised at that moment, but his breathing also eased out. I called on Poppy and she checked on him. Next
thing I knew the Mediwizards arrived. We called on Minerva and we all stayed till morning' Pomona said. She looked dreadfully tired but also relieved. Which was understandable.

'Thank Merlin he made a turn for the best' Filius murmured looking at his hands. He looked drawn and thoughtful.

'Now boys and girls, let's split up. Filius please escort Pomona to her apartments. She needs the rest' Minerva called coming back to them. Poppy was still talking to the medi wizards.

'Are you sure you don't need me for anything else Headmistress?' Pomona asked.

'No no, go and sleep this night off dear. You have been a great assistance. Hermione is here now to take over, right?' Minerva asked. She looked happy and uplifted.

'Of course' Hermione replied. Pomona nodded and followed Filius slowly towards the exit.

'Now dearest girl, tell me what happened yesterday evening? I had a discussion with the Ministry this morning and they accepted to place Ministerial wards around the whole village to keep the reporters away, but I don't know for how long I can manage
to keep this up. Shakelbolt was understanding concerning Snape's privacy for the time of his recuperation, but once this man is up I don't think the Ministry will keep the wards up or the men it has offered us in place' Minerva said.

Hermione shook her head 'Well it was as expected. Me and Marcus almost apparated in front of the three Broomsticks in order to avoid all this mess. They had been expecting us'

'I am pretty sure they did. This cannot be accomplished now that we have the assistance of the Ministry. They cannot keep a trace on us. What did they ask you?' the Headmistress said decisively. Both women turned as they saw Poppy arriving and immediately
checking on Snape.

'The usual. Is he in here? Is he alive? Dead? Ill? Are we sure it's him and not an impostor etc...etc...' Hermione replied turning her attention towards Minerva.

'You know I am really not looking forward to the moment that the school will be subjected to all that publicity' she replied.

'Maybe we can avoid it for some time' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'Difficult. Even the Ministry that is assisting us in keeping the press out, is doing it because of it's own agenda' the old woman said dryly and Hermione knew what she mean.

'Harry' she replied succinctly.

'Of course. Mr. Potter will do the best he can to assure this man's privacy...so he can have a talk with him. The ends justify the means'

'I know Headmistress' she replied shaking her head 'I know'

'The happiness that overwhelmed me upon seeing this man able to breathe on his own again was overshadowed by what is happening outside this castle' Minerva said observing Poppy at work 'And that's not all. The rumours had passed into the school as was
expected. We are not isolated. The children are not isolated either. Most of them know who he is, except maybe from the very young ones who will learn upon attending History of Magic soon. We cannot keep this undercover for long. They are asking questions,
which is completely justified'

'Then answer them' Hermione said.

Minerva snapped her chin in question 'What do you mean?'

'Tell them what is going on officially in some lunch or dinner. Fed curiosity means less trouble' she replied with a smirk.

'They will feed their parents curiosity in turn and then the press will have confirmations. We are doomed then Hermione' Minerva said 'No no, we must keep this a secret for as long as possible'

'But it is not a secret. All know he is here. They just need it officially'

'I won't give it to them. At least not until the man is awake and able to speak with us. I expect you'd understand Hermione. You, that supported his right to hiding so well from us for so many years' Minerva answered.

'And I still do, but I find ludicrous to try and hide something that everybody knows. Better admit to it, but keep it private within the walls. I find that more logical' she replied.

Minerva shook her head 'No and that is final. Now it is your shift. We still need monitoring shifts. He may be able to breathe alone again, but we cannot be sure he won't collapse from one minute to the next. Are you still up to the task? We haven't strained
you or Marcus too much have we?' Minerva touched her hand.

'No don't worry Headmistress, see I came prepared' she said and took out a new book from her robes.

'Fine then, I will leave you to it. Poppy are we ok here?' she asked.

'Yes Headmistress' the mediwitch replied.

'I am off then, see you two later' she said.

'Goodbye Minerva' Hermione said and waved.

'Come have your seat, don't fret' Poppy told her and pointed at her transformed chair. She had charmed it so that whenever Hermione came into the room it changed into the comfy easy chair.

She smiled and sat down gathering her feet under her legs and smoothing her robes around them 'Anything new I have to look out for?' she asked.

Poppy smiled 'Not really no. Slight changes in breathing would be good though since now he is doing it freestyle and it is not the previously mechanical in and out of the charms. You can also observe for excess sweating or shivers. Both indications of
a heart attack. Check on his monitors every now and again if you can. And if you see any kind of movements major or minor let me know please'

'Will do' Hermione replied and smiled widely 'You look tired, but also happy' she commented.

'What's not to be happy about? He placed the foot that was dangling above the chasm of death on the ground again' the witch said and looked at Snape almost adoringly. Hermione's smile widened.

'I never had a doubt that he would do it in the end' she replied.

'You did now, didn't you?' Poppy asked drawing a deep breath.

'Sure did, never met a more cynical man in my life. He was probably as misanthropic in his dealings with the Grim Reaper as he was with us all these years. No wonder he was send back to us. Who'd want to keep him?' she winked playfully.

Poppy pursued her lips 'Oh, you're lucky he can't hear you' she said warningly.

'Uhm, teasing my old sour Professor is a thing I would do only if he was comatose. The opportunity fell on my lap' she replied and raised her shoulders.

Poppy laughed lightly 'Ah, I am glad you are here Hermione with your clever and playful wit'

'I am glad I can be of assistance to you mistress' she replied with a sweet smile.

'Enough pleasantries and what have you. I am off to get some rest. As always I will sleep in my office. Things couldn't be better for him Hermione, but we are far from danger yet' Poppy said and looked at her.

'I am aware of that don't worry. I will look after him' she said and smirked.

Poppy smiled back 'Very well I am off, see you later' she said

'Have a good rest' she waved. Then the curtain fell back in place and all of a sudden there was silence. Not as the previous silences that were accompanied by his laboured breathing and the constant bleep bleep of the charms that kept him alive. This
time the silence was deep and real.

She looked at him and for the first time since coming in her brows furrowed. She leaned forward and extended her hand above his own. It was still palm up. Left there by the Mediwizards that tested his reflexes. She hesitated for a second and looked at
it. Not able to resist the inappropriate urge to touch his long fingers, she lowered her hand and placed it above his as she had always done each time she visited with him.

She had made something of a ritual out of it. She always touched the back of his hand and asked him how he was feeling. She looked towards their hands. Hers clasped loosely above his open palm, looked vaguely as if they were holding hands. She shook her
head to the ludicrous thought and turned to his face. It was turned towards the window. His lips closed this time, his breathing clear with deep long breaths of sleep. He seemed calm instead of haunted. Must have been the fact that he was not supported
by charms in order to be alive, she reasoned.

She watered her lips 'Good morning Professor. I am so glad you are feeling better' she said and her hand moved slightly above his palm. The softness of his skin grazed her own. The throb that formed there worked it's way towards her wrist. She swallowed
a rather dry throat and looked at him again.

No answering bleeps this time. Now it didn't feel like she was ludicrously speaking to a machine. Now it simply felt uncomfortable, but convinced that this was the best way to continue she tilted her head 'You have made a lot of people happy today Professor.
Amongst them...uhm ...me' she said softly. Her voice barely heard. The throb on her palm and wrist becoming more insistent. She removed her hand slowly.

what the hell was that?

'Ha, but knowing you, you'd hate making people happy right? So this must be right down miserable for you' she said playfully, more in order to cover her discomfort at touching his palm. She rubbed the heel of her own palm on her robes trying to
erase the feeling. It was gone instantly.

'They told us, I mean the Mediwizards told us that you are now able to breathe on your own, but you still need monitoring, so here I am again to your utter frustration. Guess what I brought with me?' she said and took out the new book.

'We finished Sartre as you might remember last time. So I decided to change themes and not continue on philosophy. I will take my chances with literature. Classical English Literature. I don't think it's up your road, but why don't you give it a try?
You might like it, right?' she asked and flipped the book in her hands open.

'It's Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility' she said and looked at him again. Unmoving. His hair had fallen upon his neck covering it, and had slid upon the pillow and below his shoulder line. Trapped behind his back.

That must feel slightly uncomfortable...

She leaned forward again and erasing the momentary hesitation she touched his hair. A few moments ago she had been holding his hand for Merlin's shake. Touching his hair seemed trivial compared to that. They felt very soft under her fingers and very smooth.
She paused at the sensation. She didn't expect his hair to feel this way. It was a pleasant surprise. She shook her head to clear the awkward thought. She moved his shoulder softly so as not to bother him and freed the trapped locks. She rested them
on the pillow out of his way.

'There' she said to him 'That's better'

She leaned back and made herself comfortable again and turned to her book 'Yes, I know what you are thinking. Female writer, oh joy, but you know what? I have heard that Jane Austen was actually a man. A huge Yorkshireman with a beard you could hide a
badger in' she said playfully and laughed at her own joke. No answer from him though. Her smile died down as she lowered her head to her book and started reading softly. The strong wind outside the castle was echoing behind her words that slowly unfolded
a new story.

'The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex. Their estate was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of their property, were, for many generations, they had lived in so respectable manner, as to engage the general good
opinion of their surrounding acquaintance...' as she got lost in her narration she didn't notice that she was rubbing her palm and her wrist softly.

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