Only when Hermione was finally profoundly asleep on his bed, did Severus allow himself to fully breathe.
He entered the bedroom more silently than a cat would, and approached her sleeping figure under the blankets.
She seemed to be peaceful and not in any pain, though a minute before, when he was waiting on the other side of the door as Winky, the house elf, helped Hermione out of the neoprene suit and into her summoned pajamas, he had heard the girl's soft moans of discomfort and cold. Given that he had obviously stepped out of the room for that, he hadn't been able to see her face, but by the sound of her voice, she was still pretty dopey. Snape smiled to himself recalling how, despite her foggy state, he had heard Hermione's great efforts to express Winky her gratitude… even though in his opinion, this particular elf was a very poor example of her species. When he had asked for a female elf to come assist the girl, Winky had shown up emanating an incriminating stench of butterbeer. But then again, he reminded himself that he wasn't exactly one to judge these days.
He picked up the neoprene from the ground and placed it on the back of a chair, near the fire, that was burning strongly to quickly warm up the room. Then, he sat on that chair, still observing her carefully, looking for any signs of distress.
As Hermione's breathing became deeper and slower, he also began to relax, and then, all sorts of thoughts stormed into his unprepared mind.
Why hadn't he taken her to the infirmary? Madame Pomfrey would probably have wanted to do a full check up, make sure Miss Granger's lungs were clear, and keep her there for the night, for observation. But that would have meant he couldn't have stayed with her, at least not without raising a fair amount of suspicion, since he had never shown that level of care for anyone at the castle before, not even his own Slytherins. And he needed to keep her under his watch for now. Which led him to the second question.
Why did it all affect him so much? First, the paralyzing fear when he saw her laying unconscious on the shore and he feared she might have drowned. Then, the explosion of joy and relief when he had gotten her breathing again, and realized she would be okay. And now, this fierce need to protect her personally, to make sure she was truly out of danger.
He knew the answer to this question, but admitting it would change everything. However, after tonight, there was no more denying either. He would no longer be able to fool himself, pretending that it was just a weird annoying complication that he could shoo away like you would with an insect buzzing around your head.
He cared about her. He cared about her for real. In fact, the intensity and depth of his feelings revealed that he cared about her more than he had cared about any other person in his life… which was the truly scary part of it all.
When he had found out that the Dark Lord was planning on murdering Lily Potter's son, and certainly his parents if they stood on his way, he had felt a crippling terror. Enough to make him switch sides and come to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore, to ask for his help protecting Lily. As Dumbledore had told him at the time, his request was absolutely selfish. Honestly, Severus didn't care about the baby, and least of all, the husband. In fact, if Voldemort were to kill James Potter in an unfortunate turn of events, let's just say it wouldn't be the worst day in Severus's life.
It was only Lily that mattered to him, even though they hadn't spoken in years. He had felt that if she died, then a huge part of him would die with her, since she had been the only human being who cared about him. And indeed, when she did die in the end, he had felt the absolute certainty that no one would care again, not even himself, for he knew it was all his fault.
But now, as the slow cadence of Hermione's breathing and the crackling sound of the flames provided a timeless, quiet space to reflect, he began to see the truth. His feelings towards Lily had been more about himself than they were about her. Of course, he knew her well and he admired her kindness and intelligence… he wouldn't have considered trying to earn her friendship if he didn't find her worthy. But it was her attention towards him what got him completely hooked and obsessed, because that was something he had longed after, for as long as he could remember. That's why he felt so jealous and anxious whenever he saw her socializing with other people… he was terrified that someone would steal her interest and then he would become invisible again. It was always about claiming the acknowledgment of his own existence in the world.
Even after her death he had clung to it, turning his pain into the cornerstone of his entire life, because it gave him a sense of identity, of purpose, even if taking care of the boy during his school years was a personal torment for him… It was the price to pay to keep that sense of self alive.
But when he saw Hermione on the shore, none of that had crossed his mind. It was quite the opposite, actually. He did cherish the way she seemed to see him for who he truly was, to understand his essence and to look at him with admiration… but that wasn't what mattered most. It was her. Her relentless kindness, even to drunk house elves or greasy dungeon bats. Her fierce courage, fighting for what she thought was right or should be done, as she had told him she did when Fred Weasley was killed. And, of course, her fascinating mind and intelligence, that combined with the other two, had managed to save the life of an inocent girl just a few days ago.
He had felt a paralyzing terror when he thought she was dead, yes. But it hadn't been about him. Even if she never spoke another word to him again, he would want her to be alive in the world. This dark, cruel, empty world needed her light desperately. And he didn't want to live in a world where it didn't exist… even if his deteriorating state suggested that he wouldn't be around much longer anyway.
In that moment, Severus realized something else. He wasn't cold. Granted, he was sitting right next to the fire, but that hadn't stopped it before. And it wasn't just the cold. He was feeling stronger too, not as weak as if he was about to pass out any given moment. He took his palm to his neck, feeling the scar under his fingertips. It wasn't swollen or hot as it had been for the past couple days. It didn't hurt.
He told himself that it must be the adrenaline of the night still keeping his body ready for action, but a couple hours had passed since he had ran along the lake. It couldn't be just that. He was perfectly relaxed now.
Hermione turned in the bed, and the blanket fell to the side, interrupting his musings.
Snape got up from his chair and leaned to pick it up, and place it over her body again. In this moment, the image of Hermione Granger sleeping in his own bed truly sunk in for the first time. He began realizing that protection hadn't been the only reason he hadn't taken her to the infirmary. There was a guilty, secret part of himself that had seized the only opportunity to steal this moment, this vision, that would never repeat itself. Because, truth be told, even if his feelings for her were much more unconditional and less selfish than what he had felt for Lily, there still was a deep desire that she would see him that way too, instead of just a means to her ends… that she would want him, the same way he wanted her. For looking at her brown curls spread over his pillow, and her soft lips parted in a relaxed manner, he finally admitted to himself that he wanted her, and he wanted her bad.
As if obeying some sort of inner command, he sat on the edge of the bed, very slowly to not wake her up. He noticed that the sleeve of her pajama had slipped down, uncovering her shoulder and clavicle. As much as the view was promising, he knew that it was important for her to keep her temperature now, so, with the utmost care, he put it back in place, also covering her with the blanket to avoid his eyes from diverting inappropriately towards her figure. Hermione let out a soft moan of pleasure at the restored warmth, and his body reacted, starting to heat up immediately.
He judged himself harshly, but still, he didn't move. Once she woke up, he would have to scold her for her recklessness at the lake, and then she would realize she wouldn't be getting anything useful out of him, and she would lose her interest. This was the closest he'd ever be of being with her, and though it was stupid and embarrassing, he was having a hard time letting that go so soon.
Then, he remembered the words she had said at the shore, just before passing out again. "What happened to you has happened before." He hadn't really paid attention at the moment, for he was much more worried about her safety. But now he thought about it… was it possible that she was referring to the patronus bringing him back from the dead? How did she know? Had she actually drowned and then resurrected as well? But he hadn't seen any patronus around her…
Another option popped up into his mind. What if she had found out some information on the lake? It was a crazy supposition but it would explain why she was so eager to go into the water, since the bracelet story was definitely just a cover up. Could it be possible that she had taken the gillyweed to try and figure out something about his story? And, if it were so… what were the chances that she was only doing it to earn his trust and take advantage of it?
The possibilities that this option suggested filled him with both hope and dread. If he allowed himself to believe again that she cared about him, there was a pretty good chance that he would be crushed again. He needed to be very careful before arriving to any conclusions.
But still, for a moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the hope of the possibility. He looked at her, trying to imagine what it would be like to look into her eyes and find that reciprocity. His fingers moved on their own towards her forehead, carefully retiring a strand of hair from her face, and then his heart froze. Hermione had opened her eyes.
He stood still as if somehow that made him invisible, holding his breath. The girl blinked a couple times and then she let out a sigh and closed her eyes again, still asleep. Snape waited a few seconds to make sure she was truly out, and then he quickly got up from the bed, getting as far as he could, receding to the opposite corner of the room with an agitated breathing. What the hell was he thinking? How would she have felt if she found him there, lurking in the dark over her defenseless sleeping body? She would be horrified, and with good reason!
The scare gave him a dose of cold reality. He couldn't stay there watching her sleep. He quickly summoned a teapot and left it in the nightstand, going downstairs to his office to wait until she got up to find out if she had been aware of his presence there or not.
Fortunately, when Hermione did come down hours later, she didn't seem to recall anything about the awkward moment.
He couldn't tell what had gotten over him in that moment. He had planned on severely scolding her, of course, but this wasn't a sensible adult calling out a reckless child on her actions... but a terrified man lashing out on the one that had scared him to death. He hated himself for his uncontrolled outburst, one that would make his old disgusting father proud. Whatever Hermione had done, he knew she didn't deserve that. Only when he saw that she was actually frightened by him, was he able to get a grip on himself, though he was still shocked by the intensity of his own feelings, which he hadn't truly been aware of until she was standing in front of him again. This wasn't just about her existing in the world, after all. It was about him facing the prospect of losing her, before he had even gotten a chance to know if she felt the same way.
He couldn't let her see that, of course, so he attributed his anger to the fact that she had endangered his reputation with McGonagall, and luckily, she didn't question his explanation. Her focus seemed to be elsewhere, and Snape held his breath when he realized she was about to confess the true motive behind her visit to the lake. Once again, he listened to Hermione Granger sharing an unbelievable story about patronus and resurrection, and once again his skepticism met her stubborn confidence in her own affirmations.
But whether it was true or not wasn't his main concern right now. The fact that she had risked her own life to get him some answers was. There was no way anyone could care so much about getting a Professor's favor, not even Miss Granger. There was no doubt anymore. She did care about him, for real.
The impact of this realization had left him so baffled that he ended up agreeing to visiting Hogsmeade with her, only after her promise that she wouldn't do anything stupid again.
"Before you go..." Snape said, when he saw that Hermione was ready to leave before he changed his mind. "Something came for you earlier this morning."
He walked over to his desk, where a big elegant envelope was waiting. He handed it to her, who looked at him confused, but his face didn't reveal any tips on the content.
Hermione turned the envelope around and read the words.
"Miss Hermione Jane Granger
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test – Results".
Her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. "Have you read them?" she asked him, hopeful and terrified at once.
Snape frowned, offended. "Of course not. I don't share people's tendency to sticking their nose into other people's business." he remarked, with a meaningful tone.
"I… I can't." she said, handing him the envelope back. "Please, read them for me." Hermione begged.
Snape looked at her with disbelief. She had nearly drowned the day before and still she looked as if the results in that letter would decide the fate of her life! He shook his head, exasperated, and took the envelope from her shaky hands.
Hermione held her breath as his dark, impenetrable eyes read quickly. She fought the urge to yell at him for his everlasting calm, not giving away whether they were good or terrible. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Snape raised his eyes from the paper.
"Congratulations." he said simply.
"What?" she asked, her eyes wide with expectation.
"You got them all." Snape explained, and though he intended to sound sneering at her academic obsession, he couldn't conceal the admiration in his tone.
"What!?" Hermione repeated, abruptly grabbing the paper from his hands and reading it avidly. "Not all! I only got Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration!" she lamented with a sorrowful moan.
Snape snorted, this time actually mocking her wholeheartedly. "Right, I'm sure Professor McGonagall will expel you from the school the moment she hears about it."
"You think so!?" Hermione asked anxiously, before noticing his sarcastic expression. "Oh… Right, I guess… I guess it's not that bad… It just… narrows my options for an Apprenticeship." she explained, lowering her gaze.
There was a tense silence. Snape hadn't failed to notice the Outstanding she had achieved in Potions. This was the final test. If she had been trying to use him, it would become clear really soon.
"I'm certain Professor Flitwick will be more than pleased to take you as an Apprentice in Charms, since he was the one to suggest it." Snape laid his trap.
"I hope so." Hermione nodded absently. Then, her brown hazel eyes turned towards him, expectant. "What about Potions, Sir? I never truly considered it before, but given our success with the time turner..." she said tentatively.
Snape's heart skipped a beat. Only the final comprobation left.
"I won't be staying here as a teacher next year, Miss Granger. I'm afraid you'll have to discuss that with my substitute." he revealed, paying great attention to her reaction.
Her whole face was clouded with disappointment. "Oh… I see… I had hoped… Well." she shook her head, and threw him a warm smile. "If that's what's best for you, Sir, I'm glad. I'm sure you'll do great things wherever you go. Though… Hogwarts won't be the same without you." she added, in a sudden impulse, blushing immediately after saying the words.
Snape stared at the wall, unable to believe his ears. She had passed the test. She wasn't after a favor treatment. Her motives towards him were honest.
His heart began pumping like crazy. Had she also truly just implied that she would miss him if he were gone?
Severus fought the urge to walk towards her, force her to raise her chin and look at him, demand that she swore to that as well. He knew in that moment that if she asked him to stay, despite Harry Potter's return to the school, he would.
But he couldn't! He couldn't go down that road again. If he had learnt something in the past twenty years it was the danger in caring so deeply about someone. And he was beginning to suspect that the way he cared about Hermione was even deeper than his previous history. He couldn't get attached to life again like that. He remembered the terror he had felt last night at the lake. No. He couldn't go through that again.
"Sir?" Hermione called him suddenly, with an anguished voice.
He looked back at her and saw her eyes widening with shock. Only then, he noticed a sharp burning pain in his neck, which in the moment he focused his attention on it, became unbearable, bringing him to his knees.
"Sir, what's happening?" Hermione yelled, rushing to kneel by his side. She removed his hand that was covering the wound, and watched horrified as it seemed to be reopening, the skin tearing apart, revealing the flesh underneath.
The pain rippled through Snape's entire body, causing him to curl on the floor with a loud cry, struggling to breathe. He feared he was going to lose his mind if it didn't stop soon. He was very vaguely aware of Hermione's hands moving his head and searching his pocket to grab his wand.
"Accio dittany!" she yelled, and she waited a few, excruciating seconds until a small glass vial came flying from a cabinet. "Just hold on!" Hermione said, opening the vial and pouring its entire content over his wounded flesh.
Snape screamed in pain with the burning liquid, but felt immediately better as it took a quick effect, healing the wound and sealing the skin over it. He inhaled sharply, feeling a thick layer of cold sweat rapidly drenching his entire body and clothes. His vision was blurry, so it took him a moment to realize that Hermione was above him, holding his head in her lap, and worryingly stroking his hair. Though his scalp was also soaked as if he had just been under the rain, she didn't seem to care.
"Is that better? Are you alright?" she asked anxiously.
He didn't have the strength to reply, but he made a subtle nod, letting out a grunt of confirmation.
"What is happening to you, Sir?" Hermione repeated, seriously concerned. "Why is the wound reopening now?"
"I don't know." Snape murmured at last, trying to get up and failing miserably when his wrists bent under his weight.
"Don't move." Hermione instructed him, placing a hand over his chest and forcing him to lay back down. "Give it a minute."
Severus closed his eyes, secretly rejoicing in the light weight of her palm over his heart, as his head rested on her thighs. He didn't know if it could be attributed to the great amount of dittany that she had poured over him, but he was feeling incredibly better by the second.
"We need to figure this out immediately." Hermione said after a few moments of silence. "I will go to Hogsmeade today and see what I can..."
"No." Snape opened his eyes again and threw her a menacing look. "You swore. You're not going anywhere by yourself. We will."
"But Sir!" she widened her eyes, alarmed. "You need to rest! You cannot go out like this! What if it happens again while we're there?"
"That's my final word, Miss Granger." Snape affirmed calmly, and he tried to get up again, this time succeeding.
"Fine." she yielded, visibly reticent, as she also got up from the floor. "But promise me you'll get some sleep first. I feel bad enough that you were forced to lend me your bed tonight." she said, crossing her arms in a gesture that admitted no negotiation.
"Fine." Snape yielded too. "I'll see you tonight at 6 o'clock in the courtyard. Now go." he ordered, summoning her things from upstairs with a quick spell and putting them in her arms.
Hermione threw him a final concerned look, and walked out the door without saying anything further. Only when she was climbing the dungeon stairs to head for the Gryffindor tower, she wondered what anyone would think if they saw her emerging from there, holding a neoprene suit, and still wearing her pajamas.