Hermione adjusts quickly to her new schedule. It only takes her two days to obtain Snape's writing on Occlumency. She is relieved to find it meticulously annotated when he quotes or refers to other sources. As she suspected, though, most of the content is original to Snape. Hermione had intended to simply read through everything for perspective before trying to actively learn any of the techniques, but when she comes to a section Snape has labeled 'irregularities and inconsistencies' she is immediately consumed with the implications of his findings.
Apparently, even for an accomplished Legilimens, hearing the thoughts of another witch or wizard without actively deploying Legilimency is extremely rare. Snape is careful to note that it has never happened to him, and that from his research he can conclude that it only happens when there is an 'extraordinary personal connection' between the Legilimens and the witch or wizard that they are 'hearing.'
Hermione is surprised by the care that Snape takes at this point, to note the ethical implications of hearing a person's thoughts without their knowledge and consent. He makes it very clear it is the responsibility of the Legilimens to inform the person that they can hear some of their thoughts and teach them how to prevent it in the future. Considering the years that Snape spent at the mercy of two powerful, intrusive masters, Hermione finds Snape's adamant thoughts on the 'right to privacy of the mind' particularly telling. She immediately sets aside the rest of Snape's notes for later and begins the mind exercises that will, hopefully, put an end to their 'connection.'
Snape has given Hermione unfettered access to his office and lab, and Hermione uses her free periods to grade his papers and evaluate potions. She sets herself a new, accelerated schedule to prepare for her NEWTs, focusing only on the areas she truly needs to study. After supper, she works in the lab with Snape. He has promised her that after she has mastered the NEWT material, they will move on to 'more interesting' things. She can hardly control her excitement.
Hermione has been practicing the mental exercises laid out in Snape's research for a week when he seems to notice a change. When they come to a pause in the brewing of a particularly complex potion, Snape touches Hermione's hand briefly to get her attention. She doesn't jerk back at his touch, and when she turns her face up to his he sees no evidence of fear. 'Thank fuck,' he thinks to himself. To Hermione he says, "Think of the worst insult for me you can come up with. Think it only, don't say it."
Hermione looks up at her Professor and realizes she no longer despises him. In fact, she has grown rather fond of him. This thought makes her blush furiously, but Snape's face remains impassive.
"That must have been one hell of an insult to make you blush like that, Miss Granger, but rest assured I didn't hear it. Well done. Fifty points to Gryffindor and you have my sincere thanks."
Hermione's relief is palpable. She lets out a big breath. "Thank you, Professor."
"I'm going to ask you about that insult one day, Miss Granger, so please don't forget it." And before Hermione has the chance to dwell on the implications of that statement, Snape redirects her attention back to the potion at hand.
Two nights later Hermione is stirring her very first batch of wolfsbane potion when she is nearly knocked off her feet by a stabbing pain in her gut. She gasps, but remains upright and doesn't lose count of her stirring. It's just mother nature's gift, a few days early. But her periods have been incredibly painful since the war. She knows she needs to take a potion soon, or the pain will literally knock her off her feet. Unfortunately, the potion is in her beaded bag, which is lying on a table at least three meters away. She doesn't think she can cast a summoning spell and continue to stir the potion correctly, and she absolutely refuses to ruin the potion.
Another stabbing pain envelops her abdomen and she cries out, loudly. Snape is across the room in a second, catching her under the elbow of her left arm and steadying her before casting a stasis charm on the potion. Hermione's knees almost buckle in relief as she sets down the stirring stick and picks up her wand, summoning the potion from her bag with a quick non-verbal spell. But Snape snatches it from her hand before she can unstopper it and gulp it down.
"Please, Professor," Hermione cries, in agony now, "I need that potion."
Snape ignores her, unstopping the potion himself and sniffing it delicately. Then he waves his wand in a complicated motion up and down the length of Hermione's body, muttering a complicated incantation. A red glow appears over her abdomen. Wordlessly, he hands her the potion.
Furious, Hermione gulps it down, and nearly collapses on the stool Snape has summoned for her. The unexpected gesture does nothing to ease her fury at the blatant invasion of her privacy. "You are my potions Professor, NOT my mediwitch, sir! You had NO RIGHT!"
Snape summons another stool, lowers himself down across from her, and runs his hand through his hair. "Forgive me, Miss Granger, I was concerned."
"No," says Hermione. "That was an invasion of my privacy. There is no excuse that you could give me that could earn my forgiveness."
Snape let loose a bark of sarcastic laughter, shaking his head. "Really, Miss Granger? After what you did to me, you want to lecture me about invading your privacy, violating your bodily autonomy?"
"What are you talking about?" Hermione says, clearly bewildered by the accusation. She is still trembling with anger.
"Did you bother to obtain my consent at St Mungo's?" he asks her, the words coming out in an accusatory hiss. "Before holding my hand while I vomited and shit and pissed my guts out in front of you? Don't you think that would have been hard enough for me to go through alone? Instead, I had to suffer every indignation of my affliction with a beautiful woman holding my hand!"
Hermione is overwhelmed with shame at this. Never, in all the time she spent at his bedside, has she considered the fact that her presence wasn't welcome. She had been so overwhelmed with her own guilt she hadn't even considered what it must have been like for him so suffer through with her watching. As her anger drains out of her, the guilt and pain and humiliation of what she as caused takes over, and pours down her face.
"I'm s-sorry," she sobs, "It was my fault! I overdosed you with the antivenin! I felt s-so fucking horrible. It was all my fault. I w-was so afraid, P-Professor. You were the biggest hero of the entire war and you didn't have anyone and I just didn't want you to suffer alone. I was so afraid. I thought you were going to die, and I didn't want you to have to die alone. I was afraid, Professor, I'm sorry." Hermione digs Snape's handkerchief out of her pocket and wipes her nose with it, too upset to realize she probably doesn't want Snape to know she's been carrying it around with her since he gave it to her.
Snape sees the embroidered serpent on the handkerchief and something breaks inside him just a little. "There's nothing to forgive, Miss Granger. I know you meant well. And the pain that I endured was no fault of yours. You saved me, and I will forever be in your debt. But please, I beg you, forgive my intrusion into your privacy this evening. I, too, was afraid."
Hermione is stunned by this pronouncement. "You were afraid, sir? Of what?"
"You aren't prone to dramatics, Miss Granger. When you cried out in pain I was alarmed. Afraid. I should have asked permission before diagnosing you. In my fear, I didn't. I'm afraid I am prone to overprotectiveness, especially when I am afraid."
Seeing the concern on his face, Hermione can't even remember why she was so angry to begin with. She sighs. "It's fine, Professor. I honestly don't even know why I was so angry. You've done nothing but try to help me this term. Honestly, we seem to rub each other the wrong way all the time. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to put that behind us. "
Snape nods in agreement, rising slowly from his conjured stool. "Get some rest, Miss Granger. Please don't come back into my dungeon until you are feeling better."
Hermione nods and gets to her feet as well. "Thank you, Professor. I should be okay by tomorrow. The potion works wonders. But-" she hesitates, now, unsure of how to broach something personal with her Professor.
He looks at her politely, making no move to rush her from his presence, so she forges ahead.
"Do you really think you owe me a life debt, sir?"
"I know I do, Miss Granger." His frank honesty is both refreshing and jarring to her.
"Is that why you-- why you are-" she struggles to find the words to describe what exactly he is doing for her. She doesn't know what it is, she just knows it's a big deal.
"No!" Snape says, quietly but very firmly. "I am giving you extra instruction and guidance for two reasons. One, because you want it, as made evidence by your proclamation to the Headmistress and myself. And two, you are exceptionally brilliant, and more than worthy of my instruction and attention. It's that simple. The fact that there is an unpaid life debt between us simply does not factor in."
Hermione watches Snape's black eyes carefully through his statement, and finds that she wants to believe him. But the imbalance of power makes her uncomfortable in the extreme. She knows what to do, though, thanks to her obsessive research of life debts after Harry saved Peter Pettigrew.
Hermione takes her wand firmly in her right hand, and holds her left hand out to Snape in a formal gesture. The stunned look on his face would have been comical if the occasion weren't deadly serious. Snape takes his wand out and grasps Hermione's left hand with his.
"Severus Tobias Snape," says Hermione, in a soft but firm voice, "I am calling in the life debt you owe to me. Do you understand that you must do what I ask of you, or forfeit your own life?"
Snape's face has gone perfectly blank, now. "I do," he says, resolute.
At his affirmative response, golden threads of light burst from the tips of their wands, curling and twining their way around Hermione's and Snape's clasped hands.
"Promise me that you will never knowingly or willingly lie to me, for the rest of our natural lives."
Snape face remains immovable, but inside he is crying and shaking and weeping in relief. "I swear to you, Hermione Jean Granger, that I, Severus Tobias Snape, will never knowingly or willingly lie to you, for the rest of our natural lives."
When Snape finishes speaking the golden cords of light that bind their hands together begin to glow blinding in their brightness, and both Snape and Hermione feel the cords tighten around their hands.
"Severus Tobias Snape," says Hermione softly, almost wistfully, "I hold your life debt fulfilled."
There is a blinding flash around their clasped hands, then, nothing.
