Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. Clumsy expressions belong to me, because I am German. Kudos to my beta Samantha-Kathy, who has to suffer a lot, correcting my punctuation and other mistakes.
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Chapter 4
Snape had a severe fever. Hermione's mind raced. She had no potion; what did her mother do when she had a fever? It was something with cold water and towels. Hermione rushed into the bathroom and drenched two towels in cold water. She wrapped them around Snape's lower legs, and then wrapped two dry towels around. He stirred, but did not awake. This fever could not be trifled with; it was high and dangerous. Sweat glistened on Severus' body, and he shivered. Hermione fetched a dry bed sheet and a blanket, and covered him. He did not sleep in the grey nightshirt everybody had laughed about in their fourth year, but in black boxers. Hermione noticed several scars on his abdomen. From Order meetings she knew that Voldemort liked to expose his followers to several curses when they failed in a task. Hermione felt pity for what Severus had to endure. Aside from the scars, he was not that bad looking after all. He was lean, but muscular, and not too hairy. At that thought she chastised herself. He is seriously ill and you are checking him out. That is sick.
She dipped a small cloth in cold water and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. Suddenly he opened his eyes and stared at her, but he did not seem to recognise her. Then he murmured, "Lily…Lily, I'm so sorry. I love you. Everything is my fault." His dark eyes closed again and he began to sob lowly. Lily Evans, Lily Potter... Hermione was stunned. Snape had loved Lily Evans. Everything fell into place now. He had been the one who had told Voldemort about the prophecy, but had not realised that Voldemort would kill Lily. When he had understood this, he had turned to Dumbledore in despair, but it had been too late. Snape had tried to atone this for years by spying for Dumbledore. His hatred towards Harry, who looked exactly like his father, and on the other hand the fact that Snape had always protected him; it made sense now. What a torment it must have been to look into Harry's eyes every day, reminding him of his guilt!
Hermione changed the towels several times during the night and cooled Snape's forehead with the wet cloth. She also prepared tea in case he woke up and sat at his bed, watching him. He was even paler than usual, but his lips did not show their typical expression, he looked kind of...vulnerable. She did not dare leave him alone. What if he died? When Severus Snape finally opened his eyes again in the morning, he found Hermione sitting next to the bed. He felt the towels on his legs and looked questioningly at Hermione. "A Muggle thing, Professor Snape, but it works. You had a high fever, you had hallucinations, and were unconscious. I could not fetch a fever potion from Madam Pomfrey as you will understand. It would have taken too long, if I had brewed a potion myself. The fever may have subsided now, but you are dehydrated and will need some tea." She fetched a cup, and held it to his lips. He shot her an irritated glance. "Miss Granger, I am not a little child. I am able to drink myself."
"Sir, I know, I only want to help you. Please take the cup." Reluctantly, he swallowed the tea. Though he knew that he had to be grateful for what Hermione Granger had done for him, Severus felt uncomfortable to accept help from anybody else. He did not need it! But his mind told him at once that he hadneeded her help. Damn! What would she think of him having seen him vulnerable, and without his robes. She had probably been repulsed by the view of his thin, scarred body.
Snape was no fool. He knew he owed her his life. He had not been well for several weeks now, but had not let himself rest. The stress of the past few days had finally led to his break-down. She had talked about hallucinations…"Did I say anything you could understand?" he asked. Hermione nodded, and met his gaze without showing uneasiness. "Yes, you did, Professor, it was about Lily Evans." Lily -- Hermione Granger must have watched my usual nightmare. "Then you know why I am the last person in the world you would want as a friend."
"I still want to be your friend," Hermione told him softly. Snape was confused by her behaviour. Looking in her eyes, he saw no sign of pity or revulsion, and she also offered her friendship again, though she knew what he had done. Why? Embarrassed by Hermione's behaviour, Severus only shot her an irritated glance.
He tried to get out of the bed and to head to the bathroom to take a shower, but his legs would not support him. He was still very weak and irritated that he needed the help of Hermione again. "Sir, I will leave you alone now, but...uhm...I think you should not lock the door in case you need my help." She actually blushed.
Severus Snape was relieved when the bathroom door closed behind him. Not only was he filthy and in need for a shower, he felt the urge to escape the presence of the small Gryffindor woman. 'Woman', you have thought it again. She had touched him It was not that he had never been touched before by Madam Pomfrey, when he had returned from Voldemort with all kinds of injuries, but this had been different. With Hermione he felt touched. "Now you are losing it, boy, now she is even 'Hermione'," Snape murmured to his reflection in the mirror, and rubbed his stubby chin. He transfigured a comb into a razor, and after a shave and a long hot shower, he felt better.
When Snape entered the living-room, Hermione was sitting at the desk, preparing for her first lesson the next day. She saw at once that the old Snape, who would never allow anybody to see him weak, was back. It took no Muggle psychology to read his face and his body language. "Miss Granger, we need to talk."
'We need to talk!' How I hate this expression. You can always be sure that something unpleasant will follow, Hermione thought.
"Miss Granger, I feel the necessity to rectify some things, and you may be surprised that I will be rather blunt, but under the given circumstances I think it is prudent. You told me that you wanted to be my friend. During the past years I have had several approaches of this kind, mostly from well-meaning Gryffindor Order members. They felt pity with poor, ugly, misunderstood Professor Snape, who had no friend in the whole world. Maybe your point of view is a little different. Perhaps you are some kind of do-gooder and intend to rescue a criminal from his sins. Or maybe you think me some kind of dark hero, who was forced to disguise his true self during his lessons. I am nothing of that sort. I assure you that most of the things I said in class were exactly how I meant them. I do not need this kind of friendship . And there is something else..." Snape's face drew nearer, and was only inches away from hers.
"...I am a murderer, Miss Granger, and I intend to kill again. I will kill Lucius Malfoy, I will make him suffer, and I will enjoy it. Now you are afraid of me, I see it in your eyes. This is why we can never be friends."
