A/N: A million thanks to all who've read my fic and more thanks to those
who were kind enough to review it.
Don't you ever feel that you're so tired and you just want to blank out the memories and just forget? That's what I wanted to put into this chapter - 'twas what I was feeling all last term, 'cept I didn't know how to let it go. Well, I finally found a way…
By the way, the 'drop of rain' thing was directly lifted from Laurie R. King's "The Beekeeper's Apprentice" which was recommended by "Pawn to Queen" author, Riley (she's great!). It's a fantastic book, as are the subsequent ones in the series. Laurie. R. King has also written another series, the Kate Martinelli one - do go and have a read, she's an amazing writer.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joanne Rowling. What I do to them and what I write about them is my own business.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here Comes The Sun
As Snape strode down the hallway leading to the mahogany Hospital Wing door, he felt the snug weight of the limp girl in his arms - she weighed less than he'd thought at about 105 pounds. Her head lay against his chest and he could smell the clean tang of lemon in her hair. He leant his head down, nose and lips almost touching the silken honey-brown mass of hair, wanting to breathe in it more. She smelt so good…something within him stirred. The last time this happened seemed eons ago - his desire had dwindled down to naught, a mere flicker of what he once could feel, and now, it hand suddenly flared up again…
He caught himself and jerked his head, rearing away from the tempting thought. 'Twas forbidden. Damn it, Severus, she'd just a sick little girl (regardless of whether she's blossomed - new padded parts and such) and there you are wanting her, he thought irritably. Trying to shield her innocence, he hoisted her slightly higher, ignoring the raw protest of his well-defined muscles.
Hermione, though, seemed unaware that her saviour was having difficulty keeping his growing need under wraps - all her concentration was focussed on fighting the urge to close her eyes and be pulled willingly into the bottomless pool of numbness. The fact that she was in the Potion Master's arms brought her only slight discomfort and a modicum of embarrassment; the relief that her quivering, useless legs wouldn't have to toddle her body to Madam Pomfrey was her foremost in her mind.
Above all, she hoped that he would not question who had finally broken her, she was having great difficulty trying not to think about that - the words were so hurtful. On top of everything else as well. The problem was that she knew, as soon as she gave a minute of her time to that disgusting incident, her emotions would run wild and she'd just let herself go. She just wanted to blank out the memories and forget it had ever happened. But she couldn't. What her parents had taught her - keep a stiff upper lip, never wash your dirty linen in public - were things that had been her mantra. She had controlled herself so far and had been successful at keeping her feelings in a tightly barred closet - she quelled the burning anger and shame and indignity that coursed through her veins. The only thing to do was to pull the bolts from the door and let water cascade from the floodgates. Trouble was, she couldn't do it. How hard can it be to lose control?
At that instant, Snape coasted to a stop in front of the Hospital Wing door and was about to launch himself sideways against it, to make it open, when it was pulled inwards by itself. Actually by Professor Dumbledore, who stood slightly hunched, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.
"Ah Severus, I thought you'd find our Miss Granger. Hurry, Madam Pomfrey is waiting - no, hush, don't say a word, just go," he intoned tiredly.
At the sound of the less familiar voice, Hermione raised her head and whispered, "Professor Dumbledore, I…"
He bent over her and stroked her cheek. "Not a single word, my dear, Madam Pomfrey will give you the release you need first. Then, later, we will talk," he uttered tenderly, and then Pomfrey bustled into the room.
"Severus, lay her down on that bed over there, loosen her tie and take off her socks and shoes. I've just got to heat this up one final time," she commanded, her concern for the girl with the wane face that matched the ivory sheets on the bed. Then to Hermione, "Don't you worry, dear, it's almost ready, you can rest in a moment."
Snape arched a single dark eyebrow at the demand but said nothing. Instead, he muttered words in Irish Gaelic, words that seemed like a cool breeze on her feverish forehead, while he laid her down on the soft mattress and untangled her damp hands from his neck. His hands lifted her ankles one by one, and pulled off her shoes and socks, holding each fragile white foot as if they were made of porcelain. She hardly felt his calloused hands rubbing the insteps and arches of her feet, before he roamed upwards and put his long fingers on her neck, resting them on her collarbone. She felt his eyes on her perspiring face and his warm, spicy breath on her forehead as he carefully undid the knot in her tie and slowly removed it from her stiff collar. He looked at the heavenly white skin of her chest, leading to hidden, unknown depths, which were revealed inch by inch as he unbuttoned her top two buttons. He felt his throat constrict. Both started abruptly when they heard Madam Pomfrey's voice from behind them.
"All right, dearie, drink up - no, don't worry, it's only the Immediate Relief Draught." the matron sat on the side of the bed and helped Hermione raise herself. "I only give it to persons in dire situations, and whatever you've been through, lass, this'll help you." At that, Hermione downed the searing burgundy potion in a single gulp. Warmth spread through her system, invigorating her feeble limbs, yet giving her the helpless tiredness that one feels after a long day. There was only one thing for it. She shut her eyes.
"There, now. Lay back, that's it. Let me put this quilt over you." Madam Pomfrey busied herself with the task, almost ignoring the two worried men who were watching. Emotion welled up in her eyes at the thought of what must have happened to get one of the healthiest girls in the school into such a state. "There you go, lass, you sleep now, we'll take care of you."
With sleep hanging over her in a foggy haze, Hermione found it impossible to open her eyes, so she let nature run its course. She turned over onto her side, away from the three adults, and snuggled up in her quilt in a foetal position. Almost a minute later, her breathing became deep and even and regular. All three adults let out sighs of relief at the sight turned towards each other. Madam Pomfrey mumbled something about washing her face and hurried from the room.
Professor Dumbledore broke the still silence. "Severus, I must find out who has done this to her - no, do not accompany me. This is business that I must take care of myself. And, I don't think you, yourself, are that eager to leave Miss Granger's side."
"No, sir, I will not leave her. When she wakes, I will be there. Albus.... when I saw her, I vowed retribution on whoever had laid a hand on her, and I intend to follow through on this. The moment you find anything, please inform me - the little bastard who left her like that…wh did that...." Snape was pacing up and down, fury evident in every step. He was livid, absoluetely livid. His anger was the white, cold type, slow to rise but when it did nothing could quiet it except blood and perhaps, a slow, slow death of the perpetrator, though of course, all within legal bounds. And he wanted both.
Dumbledore took a step towards him, and clapped a hand on his shoulder, stopping his angry pacing. Dumbledore looked into his black eyes and saw the identical irate glint in them. "We will find out what happened to her, Severus, and believe you me, he or she will not be let off lightly by any means. Now, stay here and watch over her." He turned and rushed out of the room, belying his ancient accumulation of years, blue robes flaring behind him.
Severus said to the empty room, his voice low, "You need not have told me to, Albus. It was, nonetheless, what my intentions were, after all."
**~**~**
Warm, sultry night air fluttered through the open window and caressed the faces and hands of the two people in the cosy one-bed room in the hospital wing. The stars were, indeed, bright that night, as was the moon. It illuminated the sallow face of the man who sat on the window seat and stared out at the constellations, the sombre darkness somehow giving him solace from the thoughts that ravaged his mind. The world had gone so wrong…..
The other figure was huddled under bedclothes and hair that fanned out around her, almost shielding her face. Her cheeks were rosy with sleep and her long, chestnut-brown eyelashes formed half-circles on them. Hermione slept fitfully, and tossed and turned before waking fully and sat upright in the bed, chest heaving. Her eyes flicked back and forth about the room until they found the large figure of the curled-up man with a blanket wrapped around him. He turned away from the breath-taking view and started slowly to her bedside.
"P-Professor Snape, wh-what - " she said sleepily, reaching an arm out, groping for her glasses.
"Shhhh, Hermione. It's all right, child, I'm here. Go back to sleep." His deep baritone voice pacified her nervous stuttering and allowed her enough consolation to lay back again. His fist held up her thin wrist and he tucked the stray arm back under the blanket.
It soothed her even more when he began to utter the flowing Irish Gaelic words again, which fell over her like calm brooks did over stones, soft and rhythmic. He put his hand on her forehead, its welcome pressure making her close her eyes.
It was then, at that moment when she shut her view of the world, that she realised what she'd seen in the pale moonlight on Professor Snape's cheek. However, it was so ludicrous that she dismissed it at once, blaming it on her befuddled mind or the blurred vision caused by the absence of her glasses.
But she could've sworn that there was a drop of rain on his cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: You like? Give us a shout if y'do, thanks.
Don't you ever feel that you're so tired and you just want to blank out the memories and just forget? That's what I wanted to put into this chapter - 'twas what I was feeling all last term, 'cept I didn't know how to let it go. Well, I finally found a way…
By the way, the 'drop of rain' thing was directly lifted from Laurie R. King's "The Beekeeper's Apprentice" which was recommended by "Pawn to Queen" author, Riley (she's great!). It's a fantastic book, as are the subsequent ones in the series. Laurie. R. King has also written another series, the Kate Martinelli one - do go and have a read, she's an amazing writer.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joanne Rowling. What I do to them and what I write about them is my own business.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here Comes The Sun
As Snape strode down the hallway leading to the mahogany Hospital Wing door, he felt the snug weight of the limp girl in his arms - she weighed less than he'd thought at about 105 pounds. Her head lay against his chest and he could smell the clean tang of lemon in her hair. He leant his head down, nose and lips almost touching the silken honey-brown mass of hair, wanting to breathe in it more. She smelt so good…something within him stirred. The last time this happened seemed eons ago - his desire had dwindled down to naught, a mere flicker of what he once could feel, and now, it hand suddenly flared up again…
He caught himself and jerked his head, rearing away from the tempting thought. 'Twas forbidden. Damn it, Severus, she'd just a sick little girl (regardless of whether she's blossomed - new padded parts and such) and there you are wanting her, he thought irritably. Trying to shield her innocence, he hoisted her slightly higher, ignoring the raw protest of his well-defined muscles.
Hermione, though, seemed unaware that her saviour was having difficulty keeping his growing need under wraps - all her concentration was focussed on fighting the urge to close her eyes and be pulled willingly into the bottomless pool of numbness. The fact that she was in the Potion Master's arms brought her only slight discomfort and a modicum of embarrassment; the relief that her quivering, useless legs wouldn't have to toddle her body to Madam Pomfrey was her foremost in her mind.
Above all, she hoped that he would not question who had finally broken her, she was having great difficulty trying not to think about that - the words were so hurtful. On top of everything else as well. The problem was that she knew, as soon as she gave a minute of her time to that disgusting incident, her emotions would run wild and she'd just let herself go. She just wanted to blank out the memories and forget it had ever happened. But she couldn't. What her parents had taught her - keep a stiff upper lip, never wash your dirty linen in public - were things that had been her mantra. She had controlled herself so far and had been successful at keeping her feelings in a tightly barred closet - she quelled the burning anger and shame and indignity that coursed through her veins. The only thing to do was to pull the bolts from the door and let water cascade from the floodgates. Trouble was, she couldn't do it. How hard can it be to lose control?
At that instant, Snape coasted to a stop in front of the Hospital Wing door and was about to launch himself sideways against it, to make it open, when it was pulled inwards by itself. Actually by Professor Dumbledore, who stood slightly hunched, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.
"Ah Severus, I thought you'd find our Miss Granger. Hurry, Madam Pomfrey is waiting - no, hush, don't say a word, just go," he intoned tiredly.
At the sound of the less familiar voice, Hermione raised her head and whispered, "Professor Dumbledore, I…"
He bent over her and stroked her cheek. "Not a single word, my dear, Madam Pomfrey will give you the release you need first. Then, later, we will talk," he uttered tenderly, and then Pomfrey bustled into the room.
"Severus, lay her down on that bed over there, loosen her tie and take off her socks and shoes. I've just got to heat this up one final time," she commanded, her concern for the girl with the wane face that matched the ivory sheets on the bed. Then to Hermione, "Don't you worry, dear, it's almost ready, you can rest in a moment."
Snape arched a single dark eyebrow at the demand but said nothing. Instead, he muttered words in Irish Gaelic, words that seemed like a cool breeze on her feverish forehead, while he laid her down on the soft mattress and untangled her damp hands from his neck. His hands lifted her ankles one by one, and pulled off her shoes and socks, holding each fragile white foot as if they were made of porcelain. She hardly felt his calloused hands rubbing the insteps and arches of her feet, before he roamed upwards and put his long fingers on her neck, resting them on her collarbone. She felt his eyes on her perspiring face and his warm, spicy breath on her forehead as he carefully undid the knot in her tie and slowly removed it from her stiff collar. He looked at the heavenly white skin of her chest, leading to hidden, unknown depths, which were revealed inch by inch as he unbuttoned her top two buttons. He felt his throat constrict. Both started abruptly when they heard Madam Pomfrey's voice from behind them.
"All right, dearie, drink up - no, don't worry, it's only the Immediate Relief Draught." the matron sat on the side of the bed and helped Hermione raise herself. "I only give it to persons in dire situations, and whatever you've been through, lass, this'll help you." At that, Hermione downed the searing burgundy potion in a single gulp. Warmth spread through her system, invigorating her feeble limbs, yet giving her the helpless tiredness that one feels after a long day. There was only one thing for it. She shut her eyes.
"There, now. Lay back, that's it. Let me put this quilt over you." Madam Pomfrey busied herself with the task, almost ignoring the two worried men who were watching. Emotion welled up in her eyes at the thought of what must have happened to get one of the healthiest girls in the school into such a state. "There you go, lass, you sleep now, we'll take care of you."
With sleep hanging over her in a foggy haze, Hermione found it impossible to open her eyes, so she let nature run its course. She turned over onto her side, away from the three adults, and snuggled up in her quilt in a foetal position. Almost a minute later, her breathing became deep and even and regular. All three adults let out sighs of relief at the sight turned towards each other. Madam Pomfrey mumbled something about washing her face and hurried from the room.
Professor Dumbledore broke the still silence. "Severus, I must find out who has done this to her - no, do not accompany me. This is business that I must take care of myself. And, I don't think you, yourself, are that eager to leave Miss Granger's side."
"No, sir, I will not leave her. When she wakes, I will be there. Albus.... when I saw her, I vowed retribution on whoever had laid a hand on her, and I intend to follow through on this. The moment you find anything, please inform me - the little bastard who left her like that…wh did that...." Snape was pacing up and down, fury evident in every step. He was livid, absoluetely livid. His anger was the white, cold type, slow to rise but when it did nothing could quiet it except blood and perhaps, a slow, slow death of the perpetrator, though of course, all within legal bounds. And he wanted both.
Dumbledore took a step towards him, and clapped a hand on his shoulder, stopping his angry pacing. Dumbledore looked into his black eyes and saw the identical irate glint in them. "We will find out what happened to her, Severus, and believe you me, he or she will not be let off lightly by any means. Now, stay here and watch over her." He turned and rushed out of the room, belying his ancient accumulation of years, blue robes flaring behind him.
Severus said to the empty room, his voice low, "You need not have told me to, Albus. It was, nonetheless, what my intentions were, after all."
**~**~**
Warm, sultry night air fluttered through the open window and caressed the faces and hands of the two people in the cosy one-bed room in the hospital wing. The stars were, indeed, bright that night, as was the moon. It illuminated the sallow face of the man who sat on the window seat and stared out at the constellations, the sombre darkness somehow giving him solace from the thoughts that ravaged his mind. The world had gone so wrong…..
The other figure was huddled under bedclothes and hair that fanned out around her, almost shielding her face. Her cheeks were rosy with sleep and her long, chestnut-brown eyelashes formed half-circles on them. Hermione slept fitfully, and tossed and turned before waking fully and sat upright in the bed, chest heaving. Her eyes flicked back and forth about the room until they found the large figure of the curled-up man with a blanket wrapped around him. He turned away from the breath-taking view and started slowly to her bedside.
"P-Professor Snape, wh-what - " she said sleepily, reaching an arm out, groping for her glasses.
"Shhhh, Hermione. It's all right, child, I'm here. Go back to sleep." His deep baritone voice pacified her nervous stuttering and allowed her enough consolation to lay back again. His fist held up her thin wrist and he tucked the stray arm back under the blanket.
It soothed her even more when he began to utter the flowing Irish Gaelic words again, which fell over her like calm brooks did over stones, soft and rhythmic. He put his hand on her forehead, its welcome pressure making her close her eyes.
It was then, at that moment when she shut her view of the world, that she realised what she'd seen in the pale moonlight on Professor Snape's cheek. However, it was so ludicrous that she dismissed it at once, blaming it on her befuddled mind or the blurred vision caused by the absence of her glasses.
But she could've sworn that there was a drop of rain on his cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: You like? Give us a shout if y'do, thanks.