Welcome back, wonderful readers! I submit for your entertainment this week's chapter!
Potions Master Pygmalion
Chapter 12
She ran gleefully through a meadow in the Swiss Alps. She'd visited this place with her parents one summer, and fallen in love with the landscape. The edelweiss kissed her bare feet as she ran, the heat of the earth radiating through her body. The ward was never this warm. She always had to wear socks because it was so cold…
The happiness and warmth of this place thrilled Afanen. She ran through the meadow again, lifting her face into the wind, allowing it to blow her long curls back from her face, loving the way her cotton-linen blend skirt flowed around her form. She laughed for the sheer joy of it. She hadn't had long curls since she'd been admitted to St Mungo's, and even then it had been strawberry-blonde, not this rich shade of chestnut that mixed her natural red-blonde with the brunette color she'd been so envious of as a schoolgirl.
Afanen looked down at herself to see what other changes had occurred. She still had pale skin with the occasional freckle (probably still anemic, then, judging by just how fair she was). She also retained the slightly conical rib and waist shape that came with wearing a corset every day for years (honestly, it was ridiculous how difficult it was to find a bra in the Wizarding world, but given that it gave her the perfect hourglass figure of a 1950s pin-up girl, Afanen wasn't complaining that loudly). Her legs were longer – she was a full two inches taller! Wonderful! She'd hated being stuck at five feet, four-and-a-half inches.
She still wasn't glamorous, certainly not what Muggles would term a "Jackie" or a "Marilyn" – she was just her ideal version of herself. She didn't need the glamor to be happy.
"I love watching you run, Hermione." A man spoke behind her. His deep baritone was smooth, almost like liquid silk. She turned and found herself facing a tall man (six-foot-two, maybe?), with broad shoulders and toned muscles (what she could see of them anyway). She was disappointed she couldn't see his face in the glare of the sun behind him, but the halo of light that cast his face in shadow matched the aura radiating from inside him – intensely bright at his center with pockets of shadow, but ending in an outpouring of golden light around him.
"Why do you call me that? I love the name, but still..." She looked down, blushing. She still had the habit of blabbering more than necessary around an attractive man. Well, that would take some work to break. Again.
"But still, you're curious, as you always are, my insufferable know-it-all."
Afanen valiantly resisted the urge to poke her tongue out at him. It was rather sweet of him to give her such an apt name of affection, but it was slightly annoying that he used her self-deprecating term. It felt different when someone else called her a know-it-all.
"You asked me once who I wanted you to be. I called you 'Hermione' because it means 'messenger'. You were the herald who brought the revolutionary news that I was worth loving."
She wasn't sure what made her say it: "Even if you're loved by a woman."
He stepped closer, wrapping her in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple before murmuring in her ear, "Depends on the woman. I'm quite particular."
"Sounds like a trust issue," she replied, rubbing her cheek against the soft wool of his frock coat. God, he smelled so good, like parchment and grass, and freshly laundered –
Venus flytrap. Why was there a Venus flytrap under her nose? Good God above it smelled awful. She rolled her head, trying to bury her nose in the pillow.
"She's awake," someone announced. The voice was baritone, but not so rich, liquid or deep as the mystery man. "Must you torture all your patients this way, Smethwyck?"
"I don't recall waking you with anything foul-smelling, Severus, and it was the worst smelling thing in this room – unless you want to donate your socks to the cause."
"That's charming, gentlemen," Afanen responded weakly, "but I'd rather vomit first."
"Are you all right?" Smethwyck asked the question, but it was mirrored by the curiosity and concern in Severus' eyes. No, surely she was misreading what she saw.
"I'm fine," she told them both. "I'll alert the world that chivalry is in vogue once again if this is how you react to an old lady taking a nap."
"Don't bother. I just didn't want to be stuck in the same room as a dissatisfied ghost for the next three days."
"Humph. Boy, if I could get out of this bed and hospital, I'd be doing enough living to balance out even your lack of society. You won't find a nice boy your age hiding in your supply closet."
"And I suppose that's where you found the 'boy' who so kindly cursed your back?"
"Enough! Both of you, shut it!"
Severus and Afanen turned to glare at the Healing apprentice.
"Better. Now, Afanen, are you sure you're all right? It's not like you to collapse that way."
"I didn't collapse, I just took a nap. Out of boredom." She was blushing redder than a tomato, she could feel it. Not that she was lying. Exactly. It wasn't any of their damn business if she decided to take a nap.
Hippocrates and Severus shared a look. One that clearly said they didn't believe her.
"That was the only time I've ever seen someone 'nap' with a manic grin on their face," Severus ventured quietly.
"I don't know, young man, you were approaching manic while cuddling your pillow last night."
"And why were you watching me sleep, you –" Hippocrates calmly held Severus back, rolling his eyes for Afanen's amusement.
"That still doesn't explain how you managed to sleep without breathing, Afanen."
"Apparently I had an episode of sleep apnea, Healer. You should know that at this late date in your training."
"Without ever having had an episode before? Come on, Afanen."
"Well, I… I…" She faltered, wincing as she gathered the courage to continue. "I may have accidentally used more wandless magic than the level to which I am accustomed these days." Why did she feel like she was back in Hogwarts being grilled by Professor Dumbledore for sneaking out of Gryffindor House? She expected to hear the professor ask, "Again, Afanen?" at any moment now.
"Accidentally," Hippocrates repeated.
"I didn't think you were hard of hearing, Hippocrates. Just don't self-diagnose, dear."
"On what could you possibly have spent that much wandless magic?" Severus exclaimed, exasperated. "There's nothing in here to spell that strongly!"
"Erm, well, you see, that's not exactly true. I could take down all the wards in this room and put them back up quite on my own and quite without a wand. It might take me an hour or so, though. That's sad, I used to be able to take down and replace wards in a heartbeat…"
Severus' eyes widened in apparent fear. Or perhaps shock. Afanen rather thought 'wonder and awe' might be going a bit far, but she'd been wrong before. "You were playing with the healing wards in a hospital? Are you suicidal?"
"Would it surprise you if I were after twenty years in the same room?"
Hippocrates pinched the bridge of his nose. "Calm down, Snape, she didn't say she did play with the wards, only that she's capable of doing so. Even wandlessly."
"So then just what were you 'playing' with, woman?"
"Goodness, what is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"
Smethwyck laughed. Eyes twinkling, he shouted animatedly, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our main weapons are…" He trailed off, seeing Severus' and Afanen's worried looks. "Sorry, Muggle joke by one of my dad's favorite comic groups. Anyway, you were saying…"
"You were playing with?" Severus prompted at her blank stare
"Oh, erm, I was trying to hear what was wrong with your Muffling Charm, because I could hear most of what you were saying, and I didn't want you to eavesdrop. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you and make you more comfortable, if I could manage it."
She looked at Severus – really looked – for the first time since she'd woken. There was what looked like crystal dust all over his blankets. So his experiment, whatever it was, hadn't worked. His face was perfectly blank, his eyes cold and dark, like a bottomless subterranean lake. Afanen shuddered involuntarily.
"It's fine," Severus said, his voice lacking any indications of his feelings.
"Well, on that happy note, I'm just gonna finish my afternoon rounds. See you two tomorrow." Hippocrates beat a hasty retreat before Afanen or Severus unthawed and found something to throw at him – or at least, Afanen was fairly certain that was the direction of his thoughts. She couldn't blame him after his first two weeks of rounds duties – being vomited upon multiple times tend to teach a young apprentice when to leave the room, and Severus looked to be in a hexing mood.
"…So, I'll hit Healer Smethwyck with a Slug-Eating Curse as punishment for all that. Care to join in on the fun?"
That carefully blank look remained. "I've got a trick or two up my sleeve."
"And this trick is?"
"Just as much a surprise for you, Madame Eavesdrop, as for … well, I can't think up an appropriate insult for the healer-cum-torturer who just left the room."
"So you're really mad at me, then?" Afanen wasn't sure why it was so important for him not to be upset with her – he'd be leaving in a few days, while she remained behind. As always.
He sighed. "Were you really trying to fix the spell, or were you just nosing about?"
"Trite as it sounds, I really did just happen to overhear about your project. And I really was trying to fix the spell."
He scrubbed his eyes. "Well, then, I suppose I can't be too upset at you for finding something to entertain yourself. Did you find out what wrong?"
Afanen considered her words. She couldn't tell this proud young man, "Your spell drops whenever you sleep, and you wrote one of the most basic runes upside down. Every single time." She was sure he'd never speak to her again, and then she'd die with dust covering her unused vocal chords.
"Just tell me. Don't mince your words."
"Your spell drops at night. Or whenever you sleep, really."
"Wonderful. Anything else?"
"…And you may or may not have written Algiz upside down."
"Did you check every runing?"
"Yes. You wrote Algiz reversed at every single runing point."
"Which, of course, would broadcast the conversation, rather than protect it."
"Only piece-meal. Your silencing spell and Buzz Bee layers were enough to dampen some of the conversation, but I could still figure out what was being said. And once I listened to the spell, I could hear everything."
"Then you can help me fix this after dinner."
"And until then?"
"You can enjoy watching me solve today's arithmancy puzzle in the paper I nicked from Smethwyck's pocket. I plan to have it finished in the twenty minutes remaining before he realizes it's missing and returns, so have your Slug-Eating Curse ready."
Afanen gaped. This – he'd stolen the puzzle, and couldn't even share. "Read out the clues, and I'll help. That was my favorite puzzle."
Severus started to retort.
"That was a command, not a request. Read the damn clue."
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