A Rose By Any Other Name.

By Kes.

Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own it.

When Hermione awoke in the Infirmary, it was dark. She squinted, trying to get a focus on the clock on the wall opposite her. It was nine thirty. I've been asleep all day? She delicately swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched lethargically. As she rose carefully from the bed, she heard someone else get up.

"Back in bed missy. I don't care what you say; you are not going out of my sight." Apparently, Madame Pomfrey had an annoying habit of appearing in places that you hardly knew existed.

Hermione sighed and wordlessly got back into bed. Poppy went back into her office when she saw Hermione close her eyes.

One eye slowly opened.

Then another...

A hand carefully reached over to the bedside table, and Hermione silently prayed that her wand was there.

It was.

"Mobilicorpus." She whispered. Her body felt weightless as she was lifted over the bed and towards the door, the only guide was her own wand.

As soon as she reached the door which was open for some unknown reason, Hermione silently cursed. She was in her nightdress and had bare feet which were currently freezing on the cold stone floor.

She saw her slippers on the floor and accio-ed them. As for her dressing gown, it was too far away. She pulled out a dirty sock that was, for some strange reason, stuffed in a slipper and concentrated in order to transfigure it into a dressing gown. A slight spark was emitted from her wand.

Hermione contemplated what had happened earlier with her Professor and what he had said to her. Severus was right. Damn him. She looked at her arms and noticed pale white marks where she had tried to harm herself. They were healing quite nicely and should be gone within a few days. Hermione felt ashamed of what she had done and yet at the moment she had the sneaking suspicion that if she could, she may actually try and do it again. Right now, however, she was annoyed at Severus and the fact that he was always right.

Feeling the need to argue with someone who would not necessarily take it personally and yell back at her without the annoying guilt that would creep up on someone else for arguing childishly with a student, she headed for the dungeons at a speedy pace.

As she delicately padded her way down the various stairs, she held her wand out in a protective stance and almost hexed the wall when she heard a smash from somewhere in her new dingy domain. The dungeons.

She heard yet another smash, this one a little closer, and the sound of a male voice cursing whilst trying to fix what he had broken with his wand. There was yet another string of colourful curses. Apparently, his wand would not work.

She slowed her pace and turned the corner carefully. "Professor?".

A dark head of hair whipped round, eyes blazing, and then softening. "Oh. Its you." At the disappointment in his tone, she felt slightly dejected. He turned back round, focusing his attention elsewhere. Following his line of sight, she saw a cauldron bubbling.

"What are you making Professor?"

He pointed to the caludron: "Veritaserum." then to the overly large bottle next to it "B-brandy."

"Why?" She asked, edging slowly to the cauldron.

He shrugged. "Because I can? I don't know..." His posture was no longer the usual defensive and proud stance that he usually adopted as he slumped unceremoniously in the chair opposite her and the cauldron.

Hermione was unsure of what to do. As she had gone past him, she had smelt the brandy on his breath, and his eyes were slightly hooded and glazed over. He was drunk. And she had a cauldron-full of veritaserum. Oh, the possibilities! Her previous thoughts of arguing them both senseless had vanished from her mind, and in its place was concern for him - and perhaps a little mischief.

"Professor, are you all right?" Already knowing the answer.

"Of course I'm all right Hermione. And...it's Severus." Ok, so I didn't know the answer. She had expected a row about her stupidity.

She momentarily thought of how nice her name sounded as it rolled of tongue. Then a realisation arose. He wants me to call him Severus! Yes, he's drunk, but still...

It belatedly occurred to Severus that she was out of bed. And that earlier today, she had attempted to kill herself.

His eyes narrowed at her shivering form. "Why are you here? And are you cold?" It was a poor attempt at imitating his usual foreboding voice, but it still sent shivers down her spine. As he asked, he rose unsteadily from the chair and casually lit the fire whilst walking over to the brandy and pouring two glasses. He handed her one, and downed the other.

"I...I don't really know why I'm here. At first it was so I could yell at you. I thought you'd like that..." She smiled openly - the first genuine smile in a while - at the boyish grin that appeared on his usually haggard features. I think I like him better this way... Wow, that shows how bad he must feel normally. I mean, getting drunk is the only way for him to loosen up, and then he doesn't even remember afterwards... She downed the brandy, grimacing slightly at the unfamiliar taste.

"Want some?" He asked her, as he sat on the edge of his desk, turning at what must have been a painful angle in order to keep eye contact with her and pour the veritaserum at the same time.

"Er, no thanks. I think I'll pass. But you...you go right ahead!" Hermione lifted her arms at made a gesture meaning 'by all means' – feeling guilty that she was so willing to take advantage of him but still unable to stop himself. She smiled at him as he nodded and downed it at the same rate he had the brandy. He burped loudly, and his hand went straight to cover his mouth as he attempted to hide his sheepish grin and his wide-eyed expression. "Sorry."

She laughed hard at the sight of her usually formidable Potions Master burping and apologising. She eventually controlled herself and stopped.

"No. Don't stop. I like that sound." He suddenly sounded very young.

He looked away from her quickly.

Hermione looked at the back of his head quizzically. The veritaserum must be kicking in... "What do you like?" She asked hesitantly.

He looked away again, unable to keep eye contact. "Your...smile, and your laugh." He was quiet for a moment. "and your intelligence...and..." He trailed off. A blushing Hermione coerced him to continue.

"No. I'll sound stupid. And you'll probably either laugh at me or run away." He blushed slightly, the combination of the brandy, veritaserum and embarrassment bringing colour to his usually barren cheeks.

For some unknown reason, Hermione went over to him, and picked up his hand, studying it. She looked slowly up into his eyes. "I promise you that I won't laugh."

He leaned forward slightly, closed his eyes and inhaled her sweet smell. He pulled back. "I like the smell of your hair." He hesitantly moved his fingers towards her hair to caress it. "I like the way it feels too."

Blushing more than was considered sane at this unusual contact with a man who had never even accidentally bumped into her in her last six years, was more than she could handle. She slowly backed away and cleared her throat, stammering slightly.

"Ok, I-I want to check that your all right." She said shakily, attempting to control herself. He's drunk Hermione. You're a girl - young woman - any drunken man would fall over a female who came near them...

"I said that I was. What was it? My admittance that I'm human? Did that scare you, Hermione?" He inquired calmly, consciously trying not to raise his voice in case it would scare her away.

She involuntarily shivered at the deep sound of his voice.

"What's your name?" She asked, purposely ignoring his question.

"Severus Snape." He nodded once, a nod that was reminiscent of someone who had just remembered a very important detail and was very proud of themselves.

"Er...how old are you?" He sighed as if in regret. "36. 18 years older than you."

"17 years. Time turner, remember?" She knew that Minerva liked to gossip and what was the harm in people knowing after she had finished with the time turner?

He nodded slowly, as if in confusion, eyes half closed in concentration of watching a memory on the back of his eyelids.

An evil grin akin to one of the Wesley twins appeared across her face. "Are you attracted to anyone...like a woman...or man, I suppose."

He looked at her, and then looked away. "Yes."

After realising that he was reluctant to elaborate voluntarily, she asked him specifically. "He or she?"

An astonished look appeared on his face, surprised that she would think he was gay. "She!"

"Ok...so your not gay." I knew that Harry and Ron were wrong. She neglected to acknowledge her own elated happiness.

"Does she know?"

He contemplated. "No. I don't think so. At least I hope not. It would be the end of my career."

"Where is she?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if she was asking the stupidest question after 'Is Voldemort really that bad a guy?'

"She's right here, obviously!" He said, staring at her. Apparently, the veritaserum was overtaking his system, causing him to lose his inhibitions.

She stood there, dumbstruck. "Oh. Right. Ok. Right." She fought against the impulse to grin insanely like an idiot.