Disclaimer: HP is JK's. Not mine.
A/N: Whoa the animosity towards Harry and Ron with their plan was palpable in those reviews! Also, this time in particular there was a lot of insightful commentary on both my writing and the story/characters. It was a pleasure to read.
That being said, thank you ALL for reading. This chapter is for Martionmanswife, Kermit 304, SeverusForever, and Mortania Hottersander! For their numerous reviews and opinions.
On a side note, I will be posting near or at the conclusion of this story how to get to my original story. I'd love to hear what you think of it if you'd be willing to give it a chance and a brief read. I think you might enjoy it, or I wouldn't mention it. No need to review- it will be easy to keep track of. More info later that will also be on my profile.
BIG NOTE; PLEASE READ: So the new guidelines say you cannot have any sexual content in fanfiction stories at all, which purges about half the stories on here and half the mature audiences and at least one chapter I already wrote for this story. Does anyone know anything about this? What the hell?
Chapter 29: Winces
Potter rounded on Snape in a long, empty hall. "I'm doing the best I can!" He snapped immediately. His green eyes were glistening with tears. "I could never do anything to hurt Hermione. I was trying to protect her. She wasn't bait; she was a target."
"I know." He said gently, sighing. Severus had to admit that was true. Telling Hermione she may be being followed would have just changed her reaction, given their positions away, and then the attack would still be impending but less predictable.
"I took every precaution! I even used the liquid luck you gave me at the party...where do you get off telling me how to do my job?" His voice was cold by the end of it.
"I was just very… I reacted instinctively."
"By instinctive, you mean to mock me with your own arrogance, calling me a selfish, haughty bastard."
"No." He said simply.
"NO?"
"I was, that is, my concern was with Miss Granger." He struggled.
Harry frowned, thinking as if it took great effort. It probably did, Severus mused.. "You called her Hermione."
"I did. At her request. We have been working together for some time now. Why? Does this not meet with your approval?"
Harry shook his head dismissively, ignoring the cheap shot. "No, I just mean… you called her by her first name. You don't call anyone by their first name." Potter continued to stare incredulously, leaving Severus feeling strangely exposed. Even worse, the young man continued to think his was through it… aloud. "You call her Granger, Miss Granger if you're feeling nice. But Hermione? That's not even easier to say. Granger is only two syllables whereas Her-mi-o-ne…"
"Your point, Assistant Director?" he sneered, crossing his arms across his chest.
A healer passed them in the corridor, seeming uninterested. Severus knew they were trained to be discrete, but he did not trust anyone really. Both men waited for them to pass.
Harry Potter frowned, scrutinizing his former teacher. "You care about her now?"
The comment bristled him, but he could make no protest. He had been cruel to her in her school years, sometimes because he had to or to protect her, sometimes because of her association with Potter or just being generally annoyed with her mouth.
"I do." He told him simply.
"Well, then—that's…well." Potter sighed, trying find air or words or brain waves, Severus figured. He might as well drop the bomb now.
"I am to take her out," He announced, rolling onto the balls of his feet. "This weekend. Since she has not mentioned it, I believe we would be best if you kept this to yourself, especially given your best mate's proclivity for punching like a Neanderthal."
It took the young man a moment to recall how to form words. "Sure." Potter appeared to be reading the floor.
"Is this going to be a problem?"
He looked up, surprised but not angry. "No, no." His voice was high, fast and jumpy. "Just, blimey."
"Well, we'll just reconvene when you have prepared your speech, then?" He bounced on his heels. "I'm going to look after Miss Granger."
"Hermione." He corrected, causing Severus to pause mid pivot. "Don't call her that anymore," Potter raised his eyebrows in warning. "She'll get cross with you if you do." Severus took a step forward, thankfully not daring to smile at Severus. "She's a grown woman. I reckon she can make her own decisions. At least if she's with you, she's safe." Potter nodded seeming to have finished with his assessment.
Without a response, Severus turned a returned to Hermione's bedside.
Not for the first time, he realized that he, Severus Snape, was going to attentively bedside of his former student, frizzy haired know-it-all Hermione Granger. The preposterousness of it slapped him in the face and nearly made him leave. What the bloody hell was he doing? And not for the first time, his mind was made up to check in on her and leave. But once he saw her, the strangeness of his instinct vanished. He couldn't leave her alone. He couldn't.
She turned in her sleep, rolling onto her uninjured side. The sheet slipped off her, exposing her bra-clad figure. He ignored the softness of his skin as he readjusted the cover for her. He glanced up at her clothes hanging blood-soaked on a rack nearby and swallowed the bile.
The touch roused her. "Severus?" She whispered.
"How are you feeling?"
"Where's Luna?"
He sighed. He was not annoyed, though, not really. He was worried. She kept asking the same question; she might be in shock. "She's safe, remember?"
"I know," She attempted to stretch, realizing her mistake at once with a wince. "I meant where is she? We had plans and she will want to put this is the magazine…" She was so busy fidgeting already, she did not realize her sheet had fallen… They were larger than he expected, he noted. Despite her jibes, he was human.
"Hermione,"
She ignored him, sliding her legs off the bed and moving her little feet about, trying to find her shoes. "No, I've got to go and check on her at least. She saved my life."
"Hermione, you aren't dressed." The sheet was only stretched across her lap, her legs exposed, her upper body free except her bra and arm sling.
"Oh!" She huffed, covering herself in a rush.
"I'll let you change." He stepped out, stifling his laughter. She might very well hex him.
"Yes!" She squealed, blushing. He chuckled to himself. "I can hear you laughing, you know? You're shaking the curtain. Ouch!"
"Hermione, do you need help?"
"No, I'm… I'll manage."
"Let me help. I won't look." He sighed, stepping back behind the curtain.
She tried to cover herself and failed. Hermione kept her eyes on the floor, he noticed, as he carefully tugged on the sleeveless dress Miss Weasley had brought. He guessed the redhead had gone to her other friend's side for the moment, since Hermione had been asleep, and he did not mind. In her eagerness to leave the hospital, neither did Hermione. Once the dress was on, he had to button it down the front, which did seem to annoy her but likely because she was frustrated she could not fasten them herself with only one hand.
He hand to kneel in front of her to button it all the way down, pinching the fabric together so she remained covered. Though simple, the fat-buttoned grey and yellow dress complimented her hourglass shape, he noted standing back up.
"Thank you." She said, as always. He found himself reaching up to tuck her falling hair behind her ear.
"No need to thank me." He said simply. Finally, she looked into his face, searching as always. He was never sure what she was looking for, if she would ever look at him without that- wondering... whatever it was she was wondering. "I had to speak to Potter."
"Yes. How did that go?" She grabbed her bag from the bed. "He's still breathing I take it."
"He is. And able to speak, unfortunately."
"I'm impressed." She taunted, grabbing her bag with her good arm before he could. "What happened?"
He reluctantly explained. "I told him I was taking you to dinner."
"How did he take it?" They stepped away from the bed and through the curtain.
"It was a shock." He gave a weak smile. She nodded, understanding as they walked. "But he agreed to be discrete until…" He left the sentence hanging. She nodded again. "If you don't want to go back with them, you are welcome to come home with me." He offered.
She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes glimmering gratefully. "Tempting, but I think I had better go back and face them. Besides," she gave a brief sad smile. "I'll be seeing you soon, right?"
This time, he nodded. "I'll pick you up." He told her as they walked towards the exit. "I don't want you traveling alone with your wand arm compromised."
He expected her to protest, but she just squeezed her lips together and said nothing, looking straight ahead.
"I'll see you soon." She turned to him, getting ready to depart.
"Soon." He assured her, and she was gone.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked when she got up the next morning.
"Alright." She told him stiffly.
"Ron made you a cup of tea already." He told her as she began to struggle with her one arm to prepare some. She only raised an eyebrow in response. "Luna sent muffins." He added.
"How is she?"
"Fine. Already left on her trip. Insisted." He sounded pleased, proud even. "She's taking Snape's potion, ankle is healed. She was pleased we got Carrow."
"So am I, you know? I just did not like not being in loop."
"I know. I'm sorry. If you had known, you would have insisted on going about your day, but you would have acted differently, and he may have figured something was going on. Hermione, we were all there. You weren't bait. We were a protective detail."
He was right, in a way, but she did not back down. "Harry, I understand, but you know better than anyone how that made me feel. It was right upstairs in this house you screamed at me about the unfairness of Dumbledore talking to us and not you and your protection detail."
"I know." He cut her off. "I really am sorry, Hermione. Severus gave me quite a talking-to." He dared to grin behind his cup at that.
"Careful you," She warned. "I've still got one good arm." He laughed nervously, glancing at her. "Where's Ron? Hiding?" She presumed.
"Yep." He said matter-of-factly. They laughed. "It's weird, you know?" He said suddenly. She knew what he was talking about. She and Snape, as they thought of him, Severus.
"I know."
"He seems to really like you…but,"
"But what?"
"He's Snape. He can only be so nice. And he's never…I mean you… it doesn't make sense to me." Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid he can only go so far. That he'll hurt you."
"Harry." Her voice cracked with emotion, she touched his arm on the table near her. She took a deep breath. "I know," She said slowly, aloud for the first time. Harry was right, after all. He saw the road she was headed down, and he was trying to protect her. She did not have the heart to tell him it was a lost cause; she knew she was gone the moment her heart jumped into her throat at the sound of his voice, angry with concern, ripping through that hospital room. His rare kind words and gentleness had been less rare as of late and it gave her hope-heart wrenching hope for something he could never feel. Not for her. "He might not be capable of… that he might not want me, but I have to – I just want to be around him, you know?"
Harry looked at the table, his finger playing with his cup. He shook his head. "No, not really." He admitted, his voice hollow. She furrowed her brow in concern. If he did not know then...
"It's hard to explain." She looked into her tea cup, knowing if he said nothing else, it was not the time to push the subject of his personal life. "Oh!" She stood up, looking at the clock. "I've got to go. I'm going to be late."
"Hermione," He began.
"I suppose I could wear this…" She looked down at the dress she had slept in last night.
"Hermione!"
"What?" She stopped.
"You're not going to work today."
"Harry. Don't start with me. Carrow has been captured."
"What do you remember about yesterday?"
"What do you mean?" That sinking feeling was creeping into her stomach.
"Fire?" He prompted. She wasn't making the connection, but something in her mind must have because she felt ill. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. The bookstore…Flourish and Blotts is gone."
"Gone?" She breathed, sitting again before her legs could fall out from under her.
"It burned. Most of the building and its frame were saved but the books were either destroyed or damaged from smoke and water putting out the fire."
"No." She shook her head in denial. It was unthinkable. That was like Hogwarts vanishing. Flourish and Blotts was the wizarding world, to her, and somehow it felt like her fault.
Harry stood over her. "I have to go to work. Ginny's away at some initiation process with her teammates before she can publically announce her joining the Harpies, and Luna's chasing some, er, thing, so if you want to come to the Ministry, go to the Burrow, or, well, Snape's…to, you know, not be alone."
"I'll be fine, Harry. Go ahead."
"Okay. See you tonight."
It was a sad sight, the singed pages blanketing the place like filthy snow. Toppled shelves laid about like headstones, gapping holes where windows used to be. And stacks of books seemed to grow from the floor, soaked and ruined. It smelled like ink, ash, and mildew.
"Mr. Welling." She spotted the man coughing over some singed records.
"Oh, my dear, Hermione. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine; I'm just so sorry about this. I can't believe…"
"Yes well, it's quite a loss."
"How long until you can re-open?"
"Oh, well I'm not sure." He blinked, looking at the records. "We lost some profit being closed during the war, and now this... I'm not sure."
"But surely, you're insured!"
He shook his round, little head. "For the building yes, but not all the inventory because of how quickly it comes in and out, the lost records…"
"What can I do?" She demanded.
"You can go home." He squeezed her hand. "Or take what you can find. I've got to go see about these shelves…Abbot," He wandered, mumbling to himself among his beloved rows as they dared to literally crumble. "Acorn. Adern. Addison. Admont."
She could take it no longer and went into the alley, apparating before the staring eyes of onlookers who had no doubt read about the fight the previous day.
Back at Grimmauld Place, her frustration boiled over. The second she had the door closed behind her, heaving back pressed against its cool surface, knees slightly bent, she screamed down the hall. Her screams were met by the ravings of Lady Black.
"FILTHY MUDBLOOD! In MY house, the house of my fathers! Useless Sirius and his filth—"
Instead of ignoring it, this time, it filled with Hermione rage. Shouting back was futile, but with calm fury she stood and slowly approached the painting. As the half crazed woman spat insults at her, Hermione stared calmly into the portrait. Her mind was pleasantly blank though her ears rang with obscenities. And as the woman began to forth at the mouth, Hermione procured a hatchet from her wand, laid down the wand, and took the hatched to the canvas, bedding in into the wall behind.
"AHHH!" The woman screamed louder.
Yanking it back out of the wall on the third try, Hermione continued her work, slicing a gap here and there, splintering the wood around it. Each strike gave a rewarding feeling with the snap of wood and the protests of the lady of the house.
"Blood traitors and filthy-"
Whack!
"Disgracing the most noble-"
Wham!
"I won't stand for it!"
Crack!
Kreacher came down the hall trying to push her away. "Mistress! Mistress!" He wept.
"Don't'!" She warned him, hatchet held in his face. It would have been her wand had she had two good hands to use at once. As Kreacher wept and rocked back and forth, she worked up a sweat, her collar bone protesting wildly, Black protesting wilder, as bit by bit she tore away the space of wall, revealing the hollow darkness behind it.
It felt good. It felt like revenge destroying this for destroying Flourish and Blotts—that first magical place she'd visited before Hogwarts…filled with so many wondrous books on the impossible, knowing it was all real, that her life was about to change forever.
And when there was naught left of the painting but a few scraps of blue and gold and black canvas-crusted wood, she could see behind a glint of something in the darkness. "Lumos."
She pulled at the shards remaining, getting them free.
"Hermione!" Ron rushed in behind her, looking between her and the gap in the wall, then back. "Blimey." He rubbed the back of his head. "Guess you found something to do."
She laughed, panting from her work. "Harry, I think I found something."
Hermione needed help. She had somehow managed to bathe and shave her legs with just one useful arm, but putting on make-up the muggle way or putting on her clothes for the date was impossible. Impossible.
She threw her eyebrow pencil across the room with a screech. It was not very mature, but she felt inept and frustrated beyond words—though not beyond screeching, apparently. There was a knock at the door.
"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. "You okay?"
"Ugh, Harry! I'm not really dressed and I—I can't do this. I can't get ready I—" Adding to her shame, a painful lump rose in her throat and she began to feel tears spill out, messing up her already ruined make up.
And then, Harry Potter came to her rescue. If she had ever doubted her best friend was a true hero, that moment erased all doubt. He had to know even in the back of his mind that Ginny and Ron and Snape would not be happy he'd seen her in her state, wrapped in a towel, but he didn't care. He wasn't even afraid of being mentally scarred. He was not afraid of dresses or even make up.
"You are—" She started, amazed.
"Save it." He said, annoyed. "Tell me what to do. That is what you do best."
"Are you calling me bossy?"
"Yes." He said without missing a beat. His eyes were fixed on the puddle-riddled floor. "Now, tell me."
"I need you to help do my make up."
"You're serious?"
"Harry! I can't be late for… Snape will be pissed. I helped you destroy horcruxes; you can help me get ready."
"Did you just make a horcrux joke?"
"I guess."
"The twins would be proud. What is this? A pencil?" He held it up as she struggled to secure het towel magically. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about this moment becoming any more awkward.
"Yes. For eyebrows. Now just shade mine in a little. Careful." Harry knelt in front of her trying to draw lightly on her face, a strange sensation.
"How do you make these match?"
"They don't match?" She asked at once.
"Don't panic. I don't see why you are even bothering. It's not like he hasn't seen you before without make up."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to look attractive, Harry." She told him.
"Well, if he likes you then you should look like yourself. Ginny looks like a different person when she's going out." Hermione bit her tongue, handing the eyelash curler to her friend. "Is this meant to torture someone?" He asked.
She showed him how to use it with her good hand. "Okay. Hold very still." He told her. She closed her eyes. "Speaking of Ginny," He continued. "I had to do some fast talking to make your excuses for missing her celebratory Weasley dinner tonight, by the way. I told them you had something you had to do at St. Mungos."
"You lied?" She opened her eyes.
"Don't act so surprised. Now what? No one can ever know I did this. I should make you take an unbreakable vow."
She laughed, taking out some eye shadow. "Dark color down here, like this." She showed him, rubbing little clouds. "Light color, other side, up here."
"It's kind of like coloring in the lines." He commented, copying her move. When he licked his finger and rubbed away a smudge, she laughed. "Shut up." He told her.
"Now some mascara."
"Don't you think that's enough? I'll blind you."
"Top, then from the bottom, just the tips."
"Okay." He sighed, concentrating very hard on his work.
"Any progress de-cursing that stuff I found in your wall?" She asked. She said 'stuff' instead of mysterious artifacts of an expensive, metallic nature. Harry had taken them to work, betting they were hexed. They had to be important or deadly or both the way the Blacks had taken every effort to conceal them for who knows how long.
"Not much yet. There are some interesting things in there… everyone at work is pretty smitten with them, even the director."
The mirror helped her pencil in some lines below her eyes. She didn't trust herself to use lipstick; pink gloss would have to do it. No blush or anything. It wasn't much of a difference, but her face looked nicer.
They moved to her room. "Okay look away while I do what I can to get this dress on." She magic-ed some mouse and curlers into her hair. Harry did so, examining things of her dresser while she removed the sling and tugged the dress off the hanger.
"Hermione, is this the ring Rex sent you?" He rubbed the red and gold ring in his fingers.
"Yes." She said while slowly, painfully struggling into the pink and black number. "Why?"
He turned as she pulled it up as much as she could, turning around for him to zip it. He did so without a sound. The doorbell rang.
"I'll go let him in." Harry took a deep breath. "Good luck." He shook his head in disbelief again.
"Go on." She said, suddenly remembering her hair wasn't finished. It was more wavy than it was curled and… voluminous at best. At least it was shiny and smelled nice, she sighed. It would have to do. She would have to do.
A/N: How was Hermione and Severus' moment? Harry bonding? We will one day get to that date... do let me know you're ready with a review! As, always, thanks for reading.
Yours,
Elsie
