Forgotten Yesterday
Chapter 9: Sick
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any characters borrowed for use in this story.
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Harry dropped gracelessly onto the nurse's floor. He picked himself up and went about brushing off the ash and soot from his robes. Snape followed a moment later in a similar manner.
"Have you ever thought to have the fireplaces in this school cleaned?" Harry brushed a particularly large clump of ash form his hair.
"Now that wouldn't be sporting would it?" Snape was a having a particularly hard time removing the gray ash from his black clothing. "Oh bugger." he pulled out his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell over himself.
"I seem to remember something you mentioned about foolish wand waving."
"Sod off, Potter."
"Ahem…" Madam Pomfrey gave a small cough, "Are you two quite finished?"
They mumbled apologies and took seat in front of her desk.
"How is she?" Snape leveled his eyes with hers
"Bad, to say the least. You were right Severus, the illness is magically induced."
"Wait a sec." Harry suddenly leaned forward, "Magically induced? What do you mean magically induced?"
"Hermione's illness is the result of a series of spells rather than a biological reason." The nurse looked across the desk.
"How?"
"We're not sure." Severus turned his attention to Harry. "After Voldemort was brought back to flesh in your fourth year he began to research new ways of… for lack of a better word, punishing those that opposed him. One of the projects I heard about at the time was a way of inducing an illness. Using dark magic and potions to cause a person to fall ill. In theory, it would act as a degenerative illness. In the muggle world it would be seen as a form of cancer. A very virulent and resistant form but nonetheless cancer."
"He wanted to use it on muggle-borns."
"That was his goal, yes, but it didn't work. Not while I was in his service anyway. The spells were too complicated. They required too much energy and too much precision. They need to be cast at exact moments in an exact order. An order it was determined it would take decades to find."
"Well he must have found it."
"He must have." Snape thought a moment, "Poppy, can you treat her?"
"Yes and no." she stood and began walking around the room, "Right now I can treat her symptoms. I can make her feel better, but she won't be better. I need to know the spells used so I can counter them. I have deciphered most of them by studying the readings I've taken from her," she gestured to the papers on her desk, "But there are gaps. I can't cure her till I fill those gaps."
"Alright," Harry stood, "Snape, you open up the torture chamber in the dungeons and I'll go get Malfoy."
"Draco doesn't know anything, Harry. He's already given me all his father's papers on the subject. Anyway, I torture you don't."
"Well then can't we go to Azkaban and get someone who would?"
"Do you mean the drooling former Deatheaters that have been given the dememtor's kiss."
Harry dropped back to the chair and rested his head in his hands. "What am I supposed to do now?"
Poppy quickly busied herself outside the office.
"Well," Snape leaned foreword, "You can go back to your classes. I think they've had enough of my teaching methods. You can try to rebuild your friendship with Miss Granger. You can be a father to your child."
"How many of my students did you traumatize?"
"When I asked for an essay comparing the major dark wizards of history from your third years twelve of them used me as an example."
"Only twelve?"
"It was Ravenclaw."
"Naturally, had it been Gyrffindors they all would have included you."
"Excuse me gentlemen," Madam Pomfrey popped her head back in, "Hermione is awake if you would like to speak to her."
"Thank you, Poppy." Snape stood and walked to the door. "Shall we?"
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Hermione was sitting up in the hospital bed. She looked to the door when the two men entered the ward.
"How do you feel, Miss Granger?" Snape stood next to the bed.
"Tired, but ok I guess." she smiled weakly.
"Good. Poppy believes she may be able to help you feel better." He looked over toward the window. "I have had a room prepared for you, near Gryffindor, I assumed would be best."
"Thank you, Professor."
"You're welcome Miss Granger. Welcome home." he turned quickly and swept out of the room.
"He still sweeps. He doesn't walk. He sweeps."
"I don't think he knows how to do anything else." Harry took a seat next to her bed. "The house elves have taken your things to your room."
She humphed.
"Are you going to start the S.P.E.W stuff again?"
"Everyone deserves to be free."
"Except those who are free but don't want to be."
"I'm just saying that…" she suspiciously eyed him. "You're mocking me?"
"A little."
"You're mean. You're going to feed Crooks for me right?"
"Oh, do you mean that evil demon creature that tried to kill me this morning."
"You're exaggerating. He just nibbled you a little. He was playing."
"It attacked me. My life flashed before my eyes. It sunk it's fangs into my hand."
She gave him a look. "Don't you think you're exaggerating?"
"A little, maybe."
She smiled. "This feels so much like old times." Her expression became sad, "But it's not, is it?"
He shook his head, "No, it's not. I wish it could be. Just for a moment, just go back to the way it was when we were kids. There are so many things I would do different."
"You're not the only one. Harry?"
"Were you happy with Cho?"
He sighed and closed his eyes tightly. "Yes, I think I was."
Hermione nodded and studied her blankets. "I'm tired Harry. Do you mind?"
"No." he stood to leave, "not at all." He carefully bent down and kissed her forehead. "Sweet dreams." he whispered before he quietly left the room.
She watched his retreating form disappear out the door. She was sure he was gone before she let a tear fall from her eye and she whispered, "Damn him."
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