A swirl of green flames and Severus was stepping out of the fireplace in his rooms. The note from Hermione was still held tight in his hand and he headed out striding through the castle towards the hospital wing.
'Well,' thought Severus as he strode towards the stairs, 'if that's the way I'll be treated every time I fuck up and get myself landed in St. Mungo's…' he grinned mischievously. 'Could be worse.'
He jogged up the stairs, somehow managing to look as sinister and mean as was expected, whistling all the way. This strange behavior scared more students than it comforted. You really had to hear Snape whistle to understand the true meaning of terror. There was something about it that was so completely unnatural it brought goose bumps to first years and struck terror into the hearts of sixth years. In short, it was just wrong.
The confident stride that he'd maintained the whole way from his fireplace to the infirmary was rudely interrupted, in his own opinion, when he opened the door to the hospital wing. He was not prepared to deal with the bushy-haired Healer who greeted him at the door with a bottle of salve in her hand and a wicked smile on her lips.
She stood there watching his hand twitch at his side not able to discern if he was keeping himself from hexing her or trying to reach for the salve. He looked something like a fish-out-of-water, Hermione decided as she watched him attempt to speak. It wasn't a good look on him, "Professor?" She asked in a slightly singsong voice, taunting him just a little.
Suddenly, somehow, Severus managed to find his voice and asked in a rather accusatory tone, "What are you doing here? I thought you had work to do."
She smiled, "Well, technically I do have work to do. That work happens to include preparing the infirmary for spring semester, which will be beginning next week, Professor."
He still looked confused.
"Did you skip the staff meeting where Dumbledore announced that Poppy had retired so that she could spend more time with her grandchildren?" she asked. By his blank expression it was obvious that he had. "You know, Professor, I've actually been commuting between here and the hospital for more than a week. The Headmaster connected the Medical Wing's fire into both the St. Mungo's floo network and my apartment in Hogsmeade until my quarters in the castle are ready."
Something seemed to have actually stuck in his brain, which had been picking up only every third word. "But… you're replacing Poppy?"
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. Yeah. He really caught on quick didn't he? No wonder he blew up that infernal cauldron! "Yes, Professor." She told him gently, handing him the tub of salve and escorting him from the medical wing. She left him standing just outside and shut the door.
When he finally came to his senses, almost five minutes later, he raged across three floors towards the Headmaster's office. This was not happy, whistling Snape, that Snape was much scarier. The students who had remained in the castle for the holiday break were exceedingly relieved to see the sour tempered Potions Master back in his element. That man could glower with the best of them!
Snape swept dramatically into Dumbledore's study, his robes spreading out around him like the Wicked Witch of the West – Snape was a particular fan of the works of L. Frank Baum – giving the Headmaster a look that could kill, or so he hoped. Severus figured it would be poetic justice in some sense.
"Something wrong, Severus?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling in that way they did when he interfered in Severus' affairs. It was definitely his 'scheming twinkle.' Damn him.
His voice was icy when he responded, "Headmaster. Why is Ms. Granger the new MediWitch? Don't you think she's a tad… young?" 'Good, you kept your composure.'
Albus chortled, "Madam Granger, Severus. And no. I don't think she's too young at all. In fact I think you will find that the two of you have plenty in common now that she'll be living in the dungeons."
'Shit, so much for that composure thing. Oh well, points for effort.'
Severus returned to his rooms with a lot on his mind, hoping to hell he wouldn't run into the bubbly brunette. 'Not good, really not good. She'll be living in my dungeons, working in my castle, part of my school! It was bad enough when she was a student...' his mind drifted off and he decided to turn in for the night. Things would, no doubt, somehow sort themselves out in the morning.
Tossing and turning, however, did not agree with Severus and after several minutes he was out of bed again. He needed to brew something. It always helped clear his mind.
Severus turned and reached for one of his larger cauldrons to make a heating solution. It was always in demand in the hospital wing this time of year given that students were in the habit of holding snowball fights that only ended when they were too frostbitten to continue. It was one of the few medical potions that he knew for a fact Poppy tended to run out of sometime in the middle of February.
Three hours later he was staring in the mirror, 'Really should've been paying more attention, you stupid git. Well, nothing for it.' Severus left his rooms, his feet pounding the same stones toward the hospital wing. He tried his hardest to keep the smile off his face as he stepped through the door.
"What exactly did you do to your eye again?" Madam Granger asked, gently feeling around the deep burn.
Severus tried to look repentant, "I was experimenting with a heating solution for the medical stores, Poppy always runs out during the winter months. I added the Sola Stone too early."
Hermione nodded, trying not to smile, "I see." She turned towards the stores of cooling solution Poppy kept and slathered it over the burn. "This is a pretty bad burn, Professor. I assume, from what you've said, that the potion reacted badly to the early addition of the stone and literally spit it back out at you?"
Severus was surprised, "Why, yes, it did..." He smiled.
"Of course it did. And it looks to me like it hit you right in the eye." She placed the cream back on a nearby table and cast a charm on his eye. Given that it was an ocular injury, it would take a while to heal. Charms cast on a patient's eyes had to be very weak unless the healer wanted to risk blinding them.
"Wear this for at least three days while the charm takes effect." She handed him the black eye patch. "Have you always been as careless as you seem to be at present? If so, Poppy must have truly had her hands full."
She waited for his answer, knowing full well that he'd only checked himself into the hospital wing twice before in Madam Pomphrey's years of working there. Poppy had kept impeccable records. In fact, at the top of the sheet for Professor Snape was a note to check on him once a week on Sunday evenings to make sure he hadn't injured himself.
"What can I say?" Severus smiled slowly, "I'm a klutz. Don't tell my students." God! What was it about this girl that had him flirting so scandalously? He never flirted, especially not with former students. This was not good, this girl was dangerous – that much was said by the burn he'd received from adding that stone too early. Hadn't he yelled at Longbottom just before the Christmas break not to do that very thing? Of course he should have known better.
They formed an uneasy friendship. More like a
professional respect for one another. Yes, that's a good way to put
it; better to say that than to say that Severus had become extremely
careless of late and found himself in the hospital wing more times in
one month than in the entire time that Poppy ran it. It was just...
professional courtesy.
Sure. Keep telling yourself that.
One afternoon, somewhere in the depths of February, Severus stuck his head into the hospital wing, "Madam Granger?"
Hermione looked up, smiling brightly at him, "Professor?" She'd become used to seeing his face around the hospital wing, usually with some odd new burn or scar or other unexplainable injury that never would have happened while she was a student there. He was either a klutz, like he said, or really good at faking it.
"Umm..." He seemed to be floundering slightly, unsure of how to begin. "Minerva wanted a word with you about some transfiguration accident with a sixth year." Well, that much was definitely true. Stupid Hufflepuff had somehow given himself gills and they couldn't get them back off. He was in the lake right now so the idiot wouldn't suffocate!
She nodded, "Alright, Professor. Thank you." Hermione began to put together a bag of things she might need, her attention back on her work.
He turned to leave, robes swirling dramatically, black against the extreme white of the hospital wing. He stopped. 'If I turn back now I've wasted that perfect exit... if I leave, well, I'm leaving...' It would be worse, however, to just stand there like an idiot. He turned back, "Hermione?"
She started, not used to hearing that voice use her first name. It was usually Madam Granger or Healer. This was different and she wasn't sure she wanted to admit to herself that she liked the way it sounded. She turned to him apprehensively, "Yes?"
"I wanted to thank you for your help with my... experimentation recently. I know I've probably been a nuisance." Wow, that was suave. Now tell her that you insist on letting the Squid wash your clothes. She'll think that is really tough. Manly, even.
She just smiled. Looking almost relieved, "You're welcome."
"Could I make up for it? With dinner?" Where did that come from?
Hermione blinked, 'Woah! Where did that come from?' Slowly she finished outfitting her kit, snapping the bagt closed, trying to give herself time to think.
'Okay. Thinking that much means no. She is going to turn you down, Sev.'
She walked towards him, her brow wrinkled in thought, "Eight o'clock? Your quarters?" She smiled brilliantly and hurried away, heading into the cold, grey evening; heading to the lake.
'Why did you make a date with him? It's not like you don't already see the man every day!' She was pacing about ten feet from his door, trying to force herself to actually go knock on it. 'You're a coward.'
The door opened on its own, however, an impatient looking Potions Master silhouetted by the warm glow behind him, his arms crossed over his chest, "Are you actually planning on coming to dinner or shall I just let the house elves eat it?"
Hermione flushed and walked into his quarters, apologizing for being late.
"You were not actually late, Madam Granger. You would have been right on time, had you knocked on my door when you arrived in these dungeons ten minutes ago."
She turned redder and walked to the table, her head ducked, her burning face hidden behind the mass of curly brown hair.
They sat to dinner silently. Spear asparagus. Bite. Chew. 'This is actually really good. And I'm surprised that a man like Severus Snape knows about interior design. Maybe Poppy did it or one of the house elves.'
Hermione looked around, feeling more than slightly awkward. She'd never been in Professor Snape's quarters before and, to be honest, had never really expected to. They were nicer than hers. Of course, he'd lived in them much longer than she had. He was a man who understood comfortable living. Absently she nibbled on more asparagus, admiring the ornate mantelpiece.
Severus was entranced with watching her eat. Something about the way her jaw moved or the way she kept looking around like a child, taking in everything in the room with those big, dark eyes was endearing. No, wrong word... it was arou- hmm... best not to go there. He mentally shook himself. 'Stop thinking like that, Sev. You're already sporting twice as many scars as you did last month, she's trouble.' He looked at her again, 'And you are a fool.'
She looked up at him and caught his eyes, realizing that she'd never really just looked into them. Examined them, yes, but never really looked. This was his turf. They weren't in the medical wing anymore and he wasn't just a patient to cure. He was a man who had asked her to dinner, something that hadn't happened all that often since leaving Hogwarts.
They sat in an uneasy silence all through the salad and halfway through the soup, 'This is stupid.' Severus steeled himself to actually begin a conversation, something she obviously didn't feel compelled to do, "So..." Damn. It's useful to have a topic before speaking.
"So..." they sat there. Both knowing just exactly how stupid that had been. However, the humour of the situation finally hit Hermione and she began to smile. Then she began to laugh. Softly at first, working her way up through at least three different laughs before finally she was clutching her sides in pain, trying hard to catch her breath.
After realizing that he was not the brunt end of her joke, Severus found himself joining her. Her laughter was infectious, brightening what he considered to be his dark and dreary quarters. Best not to think about how good it sounded to hear her laughing in his rooms.
When both had calmed down a bit they began to talk. They found that they really did, as Dumbledore had promised, have a lot in common. Dinner forgotten, they moved to a couch near the fire, goblets of wine in hand, and did not leave the spot until Hermione checked her watch (standard issue to St. Mungo's Healers –work in any kind of environment, including the overly-magicked castle).
"I'm sorry, Professor. I really do have to be going. Abus wanted to go over Poppy's records one more time with me and Minerva wanted me to look over that Hufflepuff boy again. I think she feels guilty." She stood, placing the goblet back on the table.
Snape stood as well and walked her to the door, saying good night before locking himself in his quarters again. 'Dangerous game you're playing here, Sev. Watch it with that one. She's trouble.'
Hermione stepped out of her suite the next morning, locking the door behind her. As she turned, she literally ran straight into Professor Snape. "Oof! Oh, Professor." She smiled up at him.
Damn that smile! "Madam Granger." He took her hand, bringing her to her feet. She was excited about something. She was almost quivering with it.
She smiled giddily, a letter clutched tightly in her left hand, "It's wonderful! Dumbledore just told me a few moments ago and then Hedwig arrived with a letter..." She was all a dither, not making much sense as she walked away, partially in a haze of excitement.
Severus watched her leave, curious. "If you wouldn't mind explaining yourself, ma'am. What is so exciting?"
She was half way down the corridor before turning back, smiling brilliantly and calling back to him, "Oh! Harry's coming! He's going to replace the new Defence professor!"
His smile dropped as she left. 'Nothing about you ever makes her that excited, Sev.' He chose to ignore his inner monologue for the moment. Harry Potter in the castle again, this was not good.
True, they'd somewhat patched up their differences during his seventh year, and there was that whole fight-to-the-death he'd been in with Voldemort three years ago, but back in the castle? Sure, the current Defence professor was rubbish, but replacing him mid-year? And with Potter? Dumbledore was punishing him for something. There was no other explanation.
Potions classes were oddly quiet that day. Students weren't sure what had broken Professor Snape's steel grip over them, but it wasn't there. Even when he deducted twenty points from Fawn Quiddle for melting the lip around her cauldron, his heart just wasn't in it.
He spent two days avoiding Hermione, trying to decide exactly how to go about this. So what if Potter was going to be back in the castle? So what if the mere mention of him had gotten her so excited she could barely talk? She was still a friend.
Severus knocked lightly on her door that evening, a pot of liquorice tea shrunk and charmed to be water-tight, sitting warmly in his left pocket, the matching cups and saucers in the other. They were a lovely green palm pattern that he rarely used and she'd been admiring last week.
Hermione peered out of her rooms, smiling at him, "Professor! I wasn't expecting you." She stepped to the side, inviting him into her chambers, which were, if not as finely decorated as his, at least comfortable. The pieces of furniture were mis-matched, although all of them looked extremely comfortable, and a large patchwork quilt was thrown over her couch haphazardly. She'd told him once and it was a graduation present from Molly Weasley.
Severus steeled himself slightly, "I was just wondering it you might like to have a—"
She cut him off in the middle of the speech he'd so carefully prepared. Two hours practicing in front of his looking-glass and putting up with critique from said mirror. "Shh..." she pointed to the couch. Upon closer inspection Severus spied a sooty, worn looking Auror laying there, the quilt tucked around his lean frame. "Harry's sleeping."
'Damn.'
