Chapter Eleven

When lunch time came around on Monday, Snape forced himself to ascend to the Great Hall to fetch some food before he passed out from hunger. His morning classes had been disastrous as usual. Students simply had no care for such an art as Potions, and when one did, he hated them as well. Miss Granger was a perfect example of this, with her insufferable know-it-all attitude. But he'd rather have a class full of Hermione Grangers then Neville Longbottoms.

Thinking this, Snape let out a small groan as he strode up the corridors towards the Great Hall. He would have the Seventh Year Gryffindors and Slytherins after for his last class of the day. Just what he needed, a class full of pig headed brats who thought themselves above Potions.

Entering the Great Hall with a swoosh of his long black robes; Snape smirked in satisfaction at the reaction he received. The Ravenclaws closest to him drew back, and many of the Hall turned to look at him. They tried to pretend they weren't looking, tried to continue eating their meal as usual, many failing dismally.

Making his way to the Head Table, his eyes sought out the heads of the brats Potter and Weasley. He made his way towards the table, avoiding making sure he didn't want walk with in hearing distance of the pair, who stood and left the Gryffindor table when they saw him. He kept his focused straight ahead, his face fixed into its usual look of pure contempt. Staff looked up from their meals with interest; he had not shown his face in the Great Hall since Friday morning. No doubt McGonagall had informed them of his misfortune in looking after the Gryffindor witch, not that any of them would find it the burden that he did.

Allowing himself to give the staff members a curt nod, he selected some food and placed it on a plate, before turning on his heel and retreating from the Hall. His face snarled automatically when he found Potter and Weasley waiting outside in the Entrance Hall.

"Professor Snape?" Potter asked.

"What?" Snape snapped, making it loud and clear he did not wish to stop.

"We were just wondering how Hermione is, sir." Potter said, making an effort to be civil, as often he did not. So like his father.

"Miss Granger is healing fast." He said. "No doubt she will be back within your classes within a few days." He began to turn on his heel.

After a quick second, Weasley spoke up. "Professor, is there any chance we could… visit her, sir?" He asked.

"That would not be possible." Snape snapped. "She is healing and needs as much rest as possible. She does not need to be kept awake by visitors." He did not bother with a goodbye, simply strode from the Entrance Hall.

Making his way down to his private chambers carrying the plate of food, Snape was glad he had said what he said. Having Miss Granger invading his private chambers was nearly more then he could handle, if Potter and Weasley were to be there, he would surely go insane. Putting up with being in the same room as them in the Great Hall was hard enough on him, therefore having them in such close proximity as his bedroom would be the end of him.

Still angry at them for even suggesting such a thing, Snape entered his private chambers. To his misfortune, he found Miss Granger awake. With a groan he realised she was due for more potion. Her boils were healing at an amazing rate, but her hands still hurt too much for her to give herself a dosage of the much needed potion.

"Professor." She looked up, a small body lost in his black blankets.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" He asked, stiffly, as he placed his lunch down next to the bed. His appetite had somewhat vanished when he had laid eyes on the boils that covered much of the student's face, one of which was leaking.

"Do you think it's at all possible that I could have a bath? Or a shower at the very least?" Hope lit her eyes, he noticed. "These boils are making a bit of a mess."

Silently, Snape swore. Not once had he thought of this. He had assumed that she'd get better, and all he'd have to do is burn his bed. He did not want to let her into his bathroom to wash herself. But then again, he could not let her leave his chambers, so he was left with little choice.

"You may, Miss Granger. However, there is a slight problem." He noticed her eyes became clearer and she looked at him intently. "You will be needing help." He said with a sigh.

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Hermione was miserable; there was no other way to describe it. She was in the most amount of pain she could imagine ever being in, and she was sitting her Snape's bath wearing only her bra and underwear. She'd had to undress in front of him and allow him to help her into the bath. She knew that he already knew her body, as it was he who applied the potion to her boils after all. But she was asleep then, and despite seeing him in her dreams, it didn't seem so bad.

Now it was just nightmarish. Snape couldn't look at her, she noticed, as he helped her gently into the bath. She noted his gentleness in lowering her into the warm water that he had run. He had also added various healing potions to the tub, causing the bath to be more relaxing then usual. He had quickly left the room after doing so, Hermione could only assume that he was changing the bedding. He certainly was not in a good mood, and she could not blame him.

This being her longest time conscious for a while, she had time to think about what was going on. She had read about BlueCloud Fever in a book not all that long ago, so she knew what was happening to her¸ but she could not speak for Snape. She wondered why she had been left in his care. Much to her surprise, she was not afraid, he had been so good to her so far, he'd had so many chances to do something to her, and he had not.

However, upon seeing her body and the mess the boils had made of her, tears had spilt down her cheeks. She knew her body wasn't the best in the world, but being covered in the scars of thousands of boils was something she did not wish to have inflicted herself. Splashing the water angrily, she thought about how she'd not wished any of this to happen to her.

"By the splashing of the water, I would assume you are finished with your bath, Miss Granger?" Snape's voice called through the open door.

Feeling tears welling up in her throat, Hermione did not trust herself to answer him. She took to glancing around his bathroom to distract herself. Like his bedroom, the walls were plain stone. The bath was a stone tub that stood against the far wall, not the room was very big. A shower head hung over it. Next to the tub stood a sink and tap, above which was a mirror. Across from these was a simple toilet. It gave off a dark and foreboding feel, which at the moment the young witch found very comforting. It was a very Snape like room, as were his entire quarters.

"Miss Granger?" Snape appeared in the doorway, and Hermione caught what might have been worry on his face. "Are you ready to return to your rest?" Hermione almost laughed at the way he put it – she knew he was not game enough to mention anything about "bed" and her name in the same sentence.

"Yes, Professor." She said, and allowed him to help her out of the bath, trying not to cry out in pain as the boils on her feet touched the hard flood. Then with a fright she realised that she was not touching the floor anymore. She turned her head to see Snape pointing his wand at her. He was levitating her, to stop the pain from rushing through her body, as he had done on the way into the bath. He was also courteous enough to cast a drying spell so that she could slip straight back into the freshly made bed.

It was with much surprise that Hermione found herself resting against the softest cotton she'd ever experienced. She looked up as Snape presented her with a potion, he remained silent.

"Thank you," she whispered, after taking the potion. She found his black eyes studying her face as she leaned back, willing the potion to overtake her.

"Sleep well." Was the last thing she heard before her mind was flooded by the bright light of the blue sky. Drifting down so that her feet touched the soft grass beneath the trees, she sat down. Looking up, she saw Professor Snape still standing over her. He watched her a moment, his huge wings waving gently.

Much to her shock, he gave her a small smile, and reached down to touch her brown hair, before he turned and walked away, folding his wings tight to his body.

Unwillingly, Hermione returned his smile, even if it was to his back.