The congealed blood had been washed from his ebony hair, which now lay silkily across the starched pillows, which were only a single shade whiter than his skin. His eyes were shut, as if in sleep, and his eyelashes formed solid gauges of black on his ashen skin. Hermione leant forward to brush stray locks of jet hair from his face and his grave lips parted slightly. He stirred uncomfortably and his obsidian eyes opened and focussed slowly on Hermione's figure.

'Miss Granger,' he announced. His attempt to sit up was impaired by Dumbledore suddenly reaching forward and restraining the invalid's shoulders. Relenting, Snape leant back into his bleached cushions and closed his eyes momentarily. 'Has he done as I suggested?' he directed at Hermione, nodding his head painfully towards the Headmaster. 'I informed him that you are at worst more capable than many probable applicants.'

'I am honoured, Professor - Professors,' she corrected, looking to Dumbledore. 'But, adept as I may be at Potions, I must continue in my other lessons. How could I do both?' She looked between the two men, aware of Dumbledore's patient smile and Snape's disbelieving sneer.

'Remind me,' Snape scorned, 'who exactly were the other applicants?'

Hermione looked greatly affronted but her glare quailed into pity as Snape began coughing and gasping for breath, healing cuts bleeding afresh as the skin split yet again.

'I will speak to Professor McGonagall right away, Sir.' she assured the two once Snape had recovered from his fit.

She strode towards the door of the hospital wing and reached for the ornately carved brass door-handle when it creaked gingerly open of its own accord. Hermione stood back to permit access to the entrants. Behind the varnished doorframe stood Professor McGonagall. Anxiously close behind her stood the fifth-year girl, Vibora.

'Ah, excellent.' Dumbledore beamed. 'Please, come here, Vibora. Minerva, I believe Miss Granger requires a word.'

Hermione watched Dumbledore summon Vibora forward and attempt to coax an apology from Snape. She watched with mild amusement as the cantankerous potions master was presented with grapes.

'Well?' McGonagall interupted Hermione's observations.

Hermione's mouth opened, closed, and reopened with dialogue properly prepared. 'Professor McGonagall, am I correct in believing you did not return the Time-Turner I used in my third year to the Department of Mysteries?'

McGonagall's eyes narrowed noticably at this as ahe said in a suspiciously quiet tone 'Yes, as is usual, you are correct.'

Hermione nodded her acknowledgement. 'Professor Snape has asked if I may teach in his stead until he returns to health and I will need the Time-Turner returned to me if I intend to fulfil Professor Snape's wishes.'

McGonagall looked temporarily stunned and, after making several non-comittal noises accompanied by spasmodic motions she consented and went to retrieve the small, magical hourglass. While she was absent, Hermione joined Snape's visitors and smiled mischievously at the grapes sitting in his lap. This smile quickly erupted into giggles as Dumbledore broke one of the slender stems and popped a bright, round grape into his mouth before offering a second to Snape, who politely refused and turned to Hermione.

'You laugh at me.' he stated simply, arching one dark eyebrow.

Hermione's cinnamon eyes met his onyx orbs and she sobered. 'No, Sir.'

'Twenty points from Gryffindor for your lies. A further five for you delivering them so disastrously.' He looked at the distracted fifth-year to whom he quite possibly owed his life. Her innocent beryl eyes were casting around the hospital wing, as if familiarising with its layout. The Potions Master seemed to be contemplating excluding her from his torment until her eyes defiantly met his.

'And yet another twenty points from you for your - adventure - so far from the dormitories so late after curfew.' He then turned to his grapes and, grinning darkly, tore the skin from one with his sharp, crooked teeth. As his eyes turned once again onto Hermione his subconscious was plotting. She could make any potion. She could just as easily invent one. With this plan formulating he was ignorant, though not unaware, of Dumbledore's impending generosity.

'That reminds me. Two-hundred points to Vibora for her sensible actions in reporting this straight to a prefect.'

Vibora paused in her keen observance of the hospital and its contents to smile dutifully at the headmaster.

'And another two-hundred to Miss Granger for her wisdom and for ensuring the safety of Professor Snape, the students of this school and - others.'

His blue eyes twinkled conspiratorily with Hermione's as she understood by 'others', the professor meant the Order of the Phoenix.

McGonagall returned at the exact time when Madame Pomfrey entered and, reminding Dumbledore of his own words, declared that so many visitors were hindering Snape's recovery and instructed them unceremoniously to leave.

Vibora, Hermione and McGonagall walked together to Gryffindor tower. McGonagall passed Hermione a fine golden chain, its hourglass swinging briefly before Vibora's covetous eyes.