Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

April 16, 2018, a Monday

Hermione noticed Hannah kept looking at her this morning, but until they cleared the Infirmary of students with Monday morning maladies, she hadn't said what was on her mind.

Had Prof. Snape said something? If he had, Hermione doubted … she wasn't sure what he'd do, but she didn't think he'd tell on her. Yet. He'd probably wait like he had with Prof. Lupin.

Was it a portrait?

An elf?

Did Hermione leave something incriminating? No, she had cleaned everything, and had even added a paper sachet of floo powder to all their kits in the Infirmary.

No students were in the ward overnight Saturday.

Hermione had straightened her hair and returned to looking presentable before seeing Hannah Sunday morning.

When she flooed home, Ron was having a lie-in, and by the time he got up to head off to the pitch, she was bathed and wearing fresh clothes as she made his breakfast.

No, all her bases were covered.

Maybe Prof. Snape – no, Severus - had made a request to see more of Hermione? Yes, Hermione could see how Hannah would see that as strange. But they'd have to be careful. For now. They were still in the beginning stages of their relationship, and both of them were headstrong individuals.

As a second year moped out of their domain, Hannah asked, "What's got you smiling?"

"Huh?" Hermione replied. She forced her face into soberness. Her daydreams of Severus, books, and meaningful, intelligent conversations that didn't revolve around what was for dinner must be showing on Hermione's face.

"Never mind," Hannah said. "I probably wore a similar smile yesterday after a romantic evening with Neville."

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"I didn't want to forget. It probably slipped my mind the other night, and it may have been only a hairline fracture that didn't give Prof. Snape any pain till yesterday, but for him, because of everything else, you need to be thorough."

"What?"

"His collar bone again. It's weak where the poison has seeped in. I mean it's no big deal to fix, but he could have a serious injury that's suppressed by his pain potions. So we can't always go by what he says he feels. Those potions take care of every ache from head to toe, and could probably drop an unsuspecting hippogriff out of the sky."

"Should he be on something so strong?"

Hannah's face became stern. "If you're worried that he doesn't suffer, he does. Don't worry about that."

"No, that's not what I meant. Isn't it dangerous for him not to feel anything?"

"It's fine. He's not numb for most of the day. When he is, it's such a relief, he sleeps."

"Okay, but -"

"He's in terrible pain, Hermione. Madam Pomfrey steered me towards chronic pain management study specifically for Prof. Snape. Other staff members also have severe arthritis and rheumatism, and I ensure they are also comfortable. Although we have magic, not everything can be cured or the patient may refuse a specific course of treatment."

"Who refused treatment?"

Hannah's eyes widened. "Prof. Snape could have a perfectly fine magical leg and arm. They could even build a shoulder joint." Her hand waved at her neck. "And possibly go up his neck and into his chest. Magical prosthesis can be better than the real thing. He's just stubborn."

Prof. Snape must have his reasons not to hack off his limbs and strap on a new one. But choosing to remain infirmed let whoever tortured him win. Hermione was going to change all that.