The Heiress

Chapter 8

It was poker night at Hermione's home. Now on friendly terms with the suitors, as they were diligently constructing a quidditch pitch in the backyard, Ron, Harry and Neville decided to try something different and be nice to them. From then on, three nights a week, the boys would scrounge up all of their pocket change and gamble.

Snape and his sister were away meeting Teddy and his family for wedding preparations, so Justine was allowed to spend a few days inhabiting the very male home. She often sat on Ron's lap during the games, giving him tips on what to bet, and how to play. He humored her, of course, even if it did cost him a few galleons.

On this particular poker night, Justine didn't seem her usual cheerful self. She didn't crawl onto Ron's lap, but instead, and quite strangely, lay down on the cool dining room floor. The boys noticed that her cheeks had an unusually bright tinge to them, and her dark bangs were pasted to her forehead with perspiration.

"Hermione..." Ron murmured. She was bringing a bowl of potato chips into the dining room, and dropped the bowl when she saw Justine. Walter Higgins, the built young man from juvenile hall, left his seat, and scooped the little girl into his arms. Atticus walked over to him and felt her forehead.

"She's burning up, Granger, best get her up to bed."

After what seemed like hours, Justine was situated into her sleeping chambers, and Hermione was applying a cold wet cloth to her burning forehead. The boys were standing concernedly at the foot of her bed.

"It's very bad," Hermione murmured, eyes filling up with tears. Almost all of the boys could've told her that. Wizards rarely took ill, at least not with muggle fevers and colds. This was a wizarding fever, harmful for one so young, and especially since it had come on so quickly. Justine was delirious with it. She often cried out for "Papa", "Hélène", and sometimes, "Mama".

"I need to get her to a hospital," Hermione decided. Ron shook his head furiously.

"No, it would be very dangerous to move her when she's like this. The best we can do is take care of her from here...and contact Snape."

Snape. He would know what to do...he was a potion's master after all, and this was his little girl who was sick out of her little mind. He would have to come home and tend to her!

It seemed as soon as the owl was sent that seconds later Severus and Hélène were immediately at Hermione's front door.

"Where is she?" Snape demanded gruffly. Hermione led him to the guest room that was holding Justine. Hélène followed closely, eyes swimming with tears.

The second he entered the room, the boys cleared out of it. He ignored them, and strode quickly to his daughter's side, kneeling. She weakly cried for her "Papa" once more.

"He's here, sweeting," Snape crooned in a gentle tone that took Hermione completely off-guard. I suppose he's allowed to act like that, now that she probably won't remember once she pulls through, Hermione thought. If she pulls through...

"I need to put together something that will bring the fever down," Snape announced, standing up, and straightening himself out.

"Tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely tonight, there isn't a moment to lose. If I do not make haste, she will die." Hermione detected a small break in his voice at the word "die", but it was almost imperceptible, so she wasn't so sure that it had happened.

"I can't move her, Miss Granger, may I impose on your generosity a little bit longer?"

"Of course, Sev...I mean Mr. Snape." He nodded curtly, before leaving the room. Hélène stayed behind.

"I was sick like this once before. Right after Severus had become my guardian...I almost died."

"Justine won't die."

Hélène brought her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.

"I was older than her, Hermione...I pulled through because I was older and my body could handle something like this."

"Justine won't die."

"What if she does?"

"She won't!" Hermione snapped. She gasped at the harshness in her tone, and then she too began to cry. Hélène put an arm around the Hermione's shoulders and pulled her to her side. They both resumed their tears silently, looking over the very ill young girl.

"Something has been bothering me, Hélène," Hermione said much later, as they attended to Justine, trying to make the room more comfortable for her condition.

"What is it?"

"You said when Justine was young, Snape attended to her around the clock...how was that possible with his teaching career and...other things?"

"Simply explained, Hermione...Hogwarts fashions the teacher's rooms to resemble their home, so Justine was easily brought to the school. Now when I said Snape was with her constantly, that wasn't entirely true. He conjured a child-care spectre of himself...that is something that looks and acts completely like the conjurer, in order to take care of things that the said person cannot due to a busy schedule. It's much less of a hassle than a time-turner. After the business with Annette, the spectre was gone and replaced with governesses...Justine wasn't even brought to stay in the school anymore."

"He was scared tonight, Hélène."

"I know he was. He still is. We all are."

"She can't die, he needs her."

As if on cue, Snape burst through the doors with a corked flask in his hands. He knelt by Justine's side, and brought the flask to her chapped lips, urging her to drink. Hermione and Hélène decided to give him a few moments with his daughter, and hastily retreated.

"If you could just pull through this, it would be much appreciated," he whispered when they were gone.

"I did very well without your dreadful mother, but I don't know what would happen if you were gone...and if you stay I'll try to be better," he promised, kissing her forehead. He noticed a chair resting next to an armoire, and pulled it over to her bedside, sitting on it.

"These next few hours are crucial, it would be best if I stayed here," he told his unconscious daughter. Within minutes, he was asleep, head resting against the back of the chair. If anything he was in for one hell of a neck ache in the morning.

End of chapter.