Chapter 11
It wasn't really the fact that she was brewing potions in his room that he didn't understand; it was more the fact that she was doing it so he wouldn't be bored. She was also doing it to keep him company. It was the fact that she wanted to remain in his company even though he felt boring and useless.
It was only when she had asked him if he wanted her to do it, did he fully realise she was not one to have ulterior motives or be a liar. No, he found her to have pure motives, and was just being so nice to him for him, not for her own gain. This astounded him, that there was someone who could still be so innocent in her ways despite having been fully immersed in the War. Even Lily had changed during the first War.
He lay in the bed and watched as the figures below seemed to be making progress. Professor Sprout had done a decent job with the lawns which were once again green and beautiful. The bushes had also been replaced, and were growing at a rapid pace. The volunteers had almost finished removing the rubble from the destroyed walls and it was looking half-decent already.
He heard his door open, and knew that it was Hermione. Nobody else ever came in.
"They are making progress from what I can see from up here," he said, still thoughtful. He hadn't looked at her yet.
"Yeah, they are. It really is coming on nicely. Maybe I'll take you down one day to have a look. You might find it interesting..." She never finished her sentence, but Severus was distracted and didn't really notice.
"Maybe," he said. He didn't think it would be possible to get him down there without anyone seeing him. At this point in time he didn't really care what happened.
"Uh, I need to shift the furniture around to make space for the table," she said, tentatively.
"Yes, yes. Sure go ahead, do whatever you feel is necessary," he replied. He felt tired, having not had a peaceful night in a few days.
As Hermione moved the furniture around, Severus looked away from the window to watch her. She moved the chairs to the side of the room, and opened up a relatively large space in the middle of his room. She disappeared out the room, leaving the door open, and he heard puffs and grunts coming from outside the door, together with the loud scraping of heavy furniture being moved. She reappeared in the doorway, pulling a table slowly with her. She squeezed it through the door and into the centre of the cleared space.
"Bloody table. Why do they have to make it spell-proof?" she was grumbling under her breath.
She straightened up and turned to smile at him. Her cheeks were rosy from the effort, and she was slightly out of breath.
"I'll be back in a minute. I'm just going to get ingredients." She sprinted out the door, but a second later popped her head back in the room.
"By the way, what is the password to your ingredients store?"she asked.
He knew that there would be no point in telling her she couldn't go in there without him to assist. He knew she would not make a mess of it. Anyway, it wasn't as if he needed it anymore.
"Dragon blood. But Hermione, be careful in there. Don't move things around. I might not be able to use it any longer, but they are organised according to my own system, which works."
She nodded and left. He felt a slight pang of jealousy toward her for being able to go into his store room, the place he had spent hours devising a system of organisation. He loved that store. It was always fully stocked of anything he ever needed.
'There is no need to be jealous. She is going to be brewing potions here, so you can engage your mind once more. She is doing the best she can,' the voice in his head told him. For once he actually agreed.
About half an hour later, she returned. He was lying back on his pillow with his eyes closed. He heard her open the door, and heard her footsteps into the room. He heard as she stopped, and stood still. Then she moved towards the table, slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. He opened his eyes a fraction, enough to see her without her noticing he was awake.
She carefully laid the jars she carried on the table top. She moved them so they were in a neat line. Then she looked up at him, and quietly moved closer to him. She stood near to his bedside, and he saw her looking into his face. Her face softened as she looked at his apparently sleeping form. Then she gently took his hand in her own. He could see her looking down at their hands, and a single tear fell from her face onto his hand. She quickly wiped her eyes and left the room.
He felt as if it was safe to open his eyes once more, and stared down at the hand she had just held. He could see her tear drop glistening there. Why was she crying? Did she pity him? Or was it that she wanted to do more for him? He was confused. She confused him.
He watched the figures below, until it became dark, and they went inside. He heard a knock on his door.
"Enter," he said and Hermione came in. "Hermione, there is actually no need to knock. It's not as if I would be doing something."
She smiled at him, "perhaps you could be sleeping."
"Perhaps, but you are always welcome here," he noticed the tray she carried, "especially if you come bearing food." She laughed.
"Hungry?" she asked.
"Starving," he replied. He actually was very hungry. He hadn't been in days, probably because he was inactive. This evening there was steak and salad.
"I like steak," he said. This had put him in a better mood than he had been the whole day.
"I know," she said, a sly smile on her face.
"You do? How?" He was amazed at her, but then remembered that she had always been resourceful.
"I asked a house-elf in the kitchen. She said you had always been partial to it."
He was surprised. He didn't realise he asked for it very often. He felt a surge of warmth towards her. She actually took the time to ask for something to make him happy.
"Thank you," he said. She sat on the edge of his bed, and cut up his steak into bite size pieces. It smelled divine. She put a piece in his mouth. It was heavenly. It was juicy and tender and just right. He had to commend the elves for their cooking yet again.
"Do you want to know how they are progressing with the renovations?" she asked, while he ate. He nodded.
"Well, as I am sure you have seen, they have cleared the rubble from most of the areas. There are a few teams working on various parts of the castle, and Harry says that they each have their own ideas, and he is finding it difficult to manage all of their complaints and ideas. He is overlooking the whole thing with the help of some architects, you know, but he says the progress is coming on nicely..."
His mind began to wonder as she talked. He watched as she chatted animatedly about the work. He began to notice things about her. Her lips were full, and pink, and every now and then the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them. Her teeth were no longer overly large, and he figured she must have grown into them. He noticed her eyes, a light brown colour, with speckles of a darker brown in them. He had noticed that she was beautiful, but now he realised the full extent of her subtle beauty.
"What do you think?" she asked. He was brought out of his thoughts by her question.
"Pardon me?" he asked.
"I asked if you thought it would be nice to go down and see the renovations. If you do want to, I can figure out a way of getting you down there unnoticed." She was smiling at him, and he saw her eyes gleaming.
"If you can find a way, I think I would like that. I would like to see the rest of the castle too." He missed the corridors that he had come to know so well during his night haunts over the years.
"Well, I'll see if I can organise something then. But for the moment, we need to do your exercises."
She stood up, and prepared him for the exercises.
That night, he was plagued yet again by nightmares. This time it wasn't the snake. He was standing in the nursery of the Potter's house. Harry was standing up in his cot, clinging on the bars, and crying. There were two other figures in the room. Lily stood in front of the cot as he tried to fight his way through Voldemort, who had just entered. He heard the high laughter of Voldemort and the screams of Lily as he fell. He could see Lily from where he lay on the floor. He tried to get up again and fight, protect her, but he couldn't move. He saw a flash of green light, heard the howling, and it all went dark.
He woke up in a cold sweat. There were tears streaming down his eyes. He realised he had just had a dream where it was him fighting off Voldemort instead of James Potter. He had not been able to do anything and could only watch as the one he loved was taken from him yet again. He sobbed, silently so he couldn't be heard, but sobbed none the less.
A/N: Please Read and Review. I really appreciate all of the reviews.
