Translation by Jessinthedungeons.
Chapter 13 - The Descent
It took only a glimpse at Cho's invitation to some sort of muggle religious celebration in honor of Sarah's family members, for my inner self to squirm in guilt at avoiding the investigation into the cold room where the founders were buried. I had run away for days. I set out to occupy my tiny apartment in Hogsmeade to avoid sleeping in the castle and having some more vivid dreams of Regulus Black. But reading the invitation to a ritual In memoriam of those killed in that attack brought me a deep sense of cowardice.
Gathering all my Gryffindor courage, I proceeded to my chambers at Hogwarts, pointed the wand at Rowena Ravenclaw's painting, and undid the sealing spell I casted days ago.
As I walked down the passageway, my breath thickened with the icy air and I looked anxiously at the three stone arches as I approached the path bifurcation. I studied the passage on the right, the one that, in my dream, had led me to the Founders' tomb. I approached it and froze when I saw that the dust had been rummaged on the steps that went down towards the gloomy darkness and there were traces of footprints, which went down and up along the way.
I pressed my wand harder and cautiously, began to descend the staircase. Whispers filled the hall, echoing through the stones in the walls. I slowed down my steps and muttered 'Nox' as I approached. A landing below opened to a room on the left and a reddish light flowed from there to the stones in the staircase.
Someone spoke in rapid murmuring, a man. The hairs on my arm rose as the voice became clearer. He spoke no language that I recognized; and his voice was guttural, rough, and seemed to suck the heat out of my bones, until he gasped, breathed, and silence took hold of everything. I ducked into the landing and peeked into the room. Inside the small chamber, kneeling before a darkness so black that it seemed about to devour the world, was someone wrapped in the ancient robes of the Voldemort-era Death Eaters.
The Death Eater dragged his hand on the ground in the darkness, and the reddish glow flashed where his fingers passed, before being sucked into the void like specters in the wind, but leaving his hand dripping with blood. I dared not breathe when something moved in the darkness. I heard a claw scratching the stone and a hiss, and then, approaching the masked man still on his knees, a manticore emerged. The lion's body of that beast was entirely covered with red hair, and the scorpion stinger moved through the air, in an alert position. The human head was a little shapeless, and when the creature thundered to the kneeling man, I saw the dozens of black pointed teeth that filled its mouth. The masked man raised his head and stood up slowly, as the creature sat on its paws before him and lowered its head, in a clear sign of submission.
In all my years as a researcher and student of magic, I have never read any record of a manticore being submissive to any wizard, or to any human being, because although they are conscious creatures, the manticores are extremely violent and dangerous. Remembering everything I've studied about magical creatures, witnessing a scene of submission of a creature of this size terrified me.
I realized that I was shaking when I made mention of walking away and running as fast as I could. Regulus's medallion in my pocket, pulsed, as if to reinforce to me that I should run. With dry mouth and blood throbbing in my veins, I retreated a step, but the rustle of my robes caused the hooded Death Eater to turn his cold mask to look at me, and at the same time, the manticore's head rose. The monster's nostrils widened to smell me and I froze, I don't know if by a spell or by sheer terror, but I couldn't move out of the room.
— It wasn't supposed to be you tonight. — Said the man, but my eyes stopped at the beast, which remained with an impassive face, but pointed its sting directly at me. — But it is too good an opportunity to be missed.
— Who are you? — That's all I could say, as I pressed my fingers harder on my wand.
The Death Eater moved so quickly that in the blink of an eye he was behind me. No one, no wizard, even at the height of their power, was able to move so quickly; it was as if he were made only of shadows and wind.
— A pity, girl. — Whispered the face under the mask. ― I will never know how you got down here. — The Death Eater's hand, covered with a black glove, wrapped around the doorknob. — Not that I care. Goodbye, usurper.
The door closed with a bang and I fumbled with the handle when I turned the object, but the door did not move. It was locked.
Bile crept up my throat and I retreated on my back further towards the door, as the relentless, hungry eyes of the manticore stared at me. Why didn't it attack me immediately?
The creature sniffed again and scraped the ground with the claws of one of its paws, the blow being strong enough to rip splinters off the stone. Panic invaded me and I lost the ability to breathe. I would die in that chamber, where no one would find me, for no one knew where I was, since I went down there to follow a clue given by a ghost.
The manticore sank again on the hips, in position to attack, and at that moment the adrenaline finally took over my mind and made me think of a reckless and courageous plan. I hardly had time to put it into practice, since with a roar that shook the whole room, the beast rushed to me. It took all of me to stand motionless in front of the door, watching it gallop toward me and watching it launch itself toward my legs. I ran up against it, muttering Ascendio the moment it jumped to attack me. A resounding rumble echoed through the chamber as the creature destroyed the wooden door.
As the creature tried to get rid of the wood chips that cut through its body, I rolled over it and launched myself through the threshold, turned left and continued the descent down the staircase. I wouldn't have any chance if I tried to get back to my room, but maybe I could be quick enough to get to the sarcophagus.
The manticore roared again, I felt the steps shudder under my feet, but I dared not look back; concentrating on not falling as I ran down the stairs and reached the lower platform, I ran to reach the tomb. Thanks to the gods the door of the tomb was wide open, as if someone was already aware that there could be a refuge waiting.
I gained precious seconds when the manticore skidded, overtaking the entrance to the tomb was enough for my eyes to sweep the room and I came across the store image of Godric Gryffindor, who now, had in his hands the same sword that saved me in several other moments. It shone in the light of the moon – the metal shimmered for me.
When the manticore jumped into the room and came towards me, I reached for the rubies-studded cold grip and spun it in the air. I only had time to see the creature's eyes and a blur of the scorpion tail, before cutting off the human head from the beast's body. I felt a nagging pain on the right side of my body when, along with the manticore, I fell with a bang to the ground, while black blood gushed from the stump of her neck.
I did not move when I saw the stinger of the tail of the manticore buried in my right forearm, the same already affected by the damn quidditch bludger. I just gasped and trembled, without releasing the left hand from the handle of the sword, only when I felt the medallion of Regulus pulsate once more, I reacted.
All that happened was a series of steps, which my healer mind knew I needed to execute perfectly so that I would not collapse right there, in that grave, and never rise again. First, I freed my forearm from the stinger of the creature, which burned mercilessly. An ugly puncture gushed blood and I conjured precarious bandages with my wand to try to stop the blood. I managed to stand, staggering, and used my own shirt to wipe the blade of the Gryffindor sword, putting it back in place, aiming for a few seconds at the statue of Godric.
― Thank you. — I thanked him, my voice hoarse.
With blurred vision, I left the tomb and staggered up the stairs, squeezing my bloody forearm to my chest. When I finally got to my room, I leaned back panting, before going out through the hole in the portrait and sealing it with the same spell as before.
The wound had not stopped bleeding yet and the blood was dripping down my wrist, I could hear it dripping on the floor. I need a healer. The palm of my hand felt like ice. I tried to walk to my bedside table in search of my phone for help, but my legs gave way and I collapsed. My eyelids became heavy and I closed them. Why is my heart beating so slowly? I opened my eyes to glimpse the wound, but my blurry vision only let me see a pink and red blur. The icy sensation, previously only in the palm of my hand, was spreading to my entire arm and legs.
I was almost at the end of my consciousness when I heard footsteps, followed by a growl. Warm hands held my face and I was so icy that this touch almost burned me.
— Granger! — It was Severus. He shook my shoulders. — What happened to you?
I remember almost nothing of the moments that followed. Strong arms lifted me up and rushed me to the bathtub. My whole body burned as I touched the water and I struggled as much as I could, but Severus held me firmly and hummed spells that I was too debilitated to comprehend. I thought I heard two apparition "pops" just before my co-advisor pushed potions and what I was almost sure was a bezoar down my throat. A Patronus silver light pulsed as he held me in the water and I wavered between my consciousness, Longbottom, it was the only word I heard before I was swallowed up by darkness.
I was warm when I opened my eyes and could smell rosemary and ginger. I emitted a small moan as I tried to get out of bed. What had happened? I could only remember going up the stairs and hiding the secret passage behind the portrait...
I was scared when I touched my robes, they were still damp, even though I was shrouded in heat. I raised my right arm in the air and was amazed and surprised to realize that I was completely healed. The only remnant of the wound was a scar on the spot where the manticore's stinger had buried itself. I ran a finger through it, tracing the curve it formed, and moved my fingers of my right hand to make sure that no deep damage had affected any tendon.
I finally looked up and realized that I was not alone. Severus was sitting in a nearby chair, looking at me; his lips were pursed in disgust. I was confused to notice the distrust in the eyes of the man who saved me.
— What happened? ― I asked.
― I'm here waiting for you to wake up to ask you that. — He said, pointing at my arm. — If I hadn't found you, that sting would have killed you in a few minutes.
I looked away at the stone floor and noticed that even the blood that had fallen on the floor had been cleared.
― Thank you. — I answered, before I was frightened to look at the dark sky through the window. — How long…
— It's only been two hours. — He cut me.
— I don't understand. How did you...
— That's not important. — Severus interrupted me again. ― I want to know how and where you were stung by a manticore, since there was blood in your room, but no sign of it in the hallway, or anywhere else. So, don't bother lying to me, Granger.
I stopped for a moment, repeating my conversations with Regulus: "No living or dead creature should catch you here". I couldn't remember if he had forbidden me to tell about the tomb or my mission and my mind was too confused to focus on it now.
— I was ordered not to say a word. — I answered with a sigh.
— No word on what? — Severus asked sharply. — Shacklebolt? Does he give you orders? — His lips pursed even more when I let out another resigned sigh. — Don't you trust me?
— Of course, I do, Severus. — I answered right away. — Especially now that you just saved my life. I just don't know what exactly I can tell you.
— Should I remind you that I can rip the information from you? — He growled angrily.
I shuddered to face him because I know he can. I couldn't breathe fast enough, not with the images I wanted to forget passing before my eyes. It was almost as if they wanted Severus to use his Legilimens power to see them. I knew that it was my desperation to get an ally, who was trying to pour these images to my co-advisor, but I still did not know, with absolute certainty, whether I could tell about the tomb and the ghost of Regulus Black. I closed my eyes, longing for darkness.
— Please, Severus. — I muttered tired.
He was silent and looked at me with an empty look. I needed to make him understand the need that consumed me in wanting to share my anguish with someone.
― I was sure that I would die here on the ground. And I wouldn't choose to die bleeding on the cold floor alone. You, better than anyone, know what it feels like. — I watched the recognition pass through his eyes, remembering how he almost died in the Shrieking Shack, and knew that I had managed to show my point. — So, do you really think I don't want to tell you? Know that there is not a single moment when I do not think about what it will be like to have someone with me. I was part of a trio, but they're gone and now I'm isolated as the most powerful witch at Hogwarts. A power that didn't help me avoid being stung by a manticore. ― I wiped a tear that involuntarily flowed down my cheek and sighed again. ― I know I need someone. Either to save me or to annoy me. And that person is you, even though I still don't know anything about your life or your powers, or what our learning about ancient magic is going to be like, but I can see myself by your side, fighting this curse.
I finished my speech, staring into the darkness of the window. The quietness of the castle grounds made the minutes drain as each of us reflected on what I had said. I heard his footsteps as he approached my bed and the mattress gave way as Severus sat on the edge of it.
My former potion's professor stared at me as he picked up his wand, muttering a Lumus, and his fingers grazed my chin slightly, lifting my eyes toward the light. I shuddered at his touch and a sense of pleasure swirled in my lower abdomen.
— You were lucky. — Severus muttered, as he let go of the wand and wrapped his hands around my elbows, helping me climb higher on the pillows.
I may have even forgotten to breathe with the shock and excitement that hit me when I felt him hold me. It was quick, because my ribs ached like hell, and I let out a moan in protest.
— Jesus Christ. — I let go, feeling the strong pulse, when he let go of me in the sitting position.
— Let me see. — He asked.
— I'm fine. — I answered, even if it was obvious that I was not.
— Let me see, Granger. I could have done that when you were knocked-out, but I waited until you were conscious.
— I'm fine, professor. ― I insisted.
— You're a terrible liar. — He said. — Remove the sweater, or I will do it myself for you.
— Uh ... what? — I froze.
But Severus Snape was known for his lack of patience with dumb questions and when I didn't do what he told me, he did for me. One hand pulled up the worn hem of my sweater and the next thing I realized, was that he climbed it much higher than my breasts, exposing my entire abdomen and bra.
I tried to take off the fabric from his hand.
― What are you doing? — My voice sounded desperate, but too weak for the mortification and pain I was feeling.
It was useless. He had a death grip on the material and his eyes were completely focused in the middle of my body. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw that the skin covering the right side of my abdomen was inflamed and red, with tiny granules of blood dotted over it. Fortunately, my ribs were not swollen or blue. But tomorrow... I shuddered at the thought, but also at the rubbing of Severus's fingers, pulling the waistband of my pants low enough for the wide strip of my panties to make an appearance.
— I'm fine. — I muttered and pulled the waistband back up, out of his control.
Severus looked at me, my sweater still clustered in his other hand.
— I would never take you for shy, Granger.
— I'm not. ― I retorted. Unless I'm in front of a camera.
— You're acting like you are. — He replied, squeezing the wand right on top of one of my bones. — I thought healers knew how an examination is done.
A part of me was well aware that he was just urging me, challenging me to do what he wanted. Yes, I am a healer and it is inherent in my profession to know how to deal with nudity. Severus seeing my nudity was the problem. I took a deep breath to throw my insecurity aside. After all, he is just examining me, nothing more.
― Well. — Releasing his hand from my sweater, I held the hem of the sweater and pulled it over my head. Screw it. What were breasts and some war scars, when I knew he had several of them too?
His eyes landed on mine, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he looked at me with an expression that I had not yet seen him face me, and both of his hands slid across the skin, lining my ribs. I barely managed not to make a sound with his touch, and it had nothing to do with the pain. But it was impossible for me not to notice how big and warm his hands were. And he touched me like I was really fragile. His hands slid above my torso and his fingers were so long that he wrapped the entire area around where I was injured.
Severus did not break eye contact with me as his thumbs pressed into the cavities between my ribs and the pads of his fingers rested on the skin above my wound. When he squeezed harder, I let out a groan in reflection of the pain I felt. He didn't even blink when squeezing a second time, and even under the cloud of pain, my heart thundered under my chest and the hair on my arms shuddered in response to the heat in his black irises.
Why does he need to look at me while doing this?
— I'm fine. Just a little hurt. — I muttered in a slightly controlled voice, which did not match the whirlwind of emotions that filled my whole being.
His thumbs absentmindedly stroked the first line of my ribs and I shuddered when I remembered that they were located a few inches below the swelling of my breasts
— You will be fine. ― He confidently stated, as if the healer in the room was him, not me.
I swallowed, trying to pull myself together.
— Do you think I can go home? ― I asked, when my gaze passed through the portrait of Rowena. Fortunately, Severus did not follow the same direction.
— I will ask Winky to apparate you there. I understand you can't tell me about anything, but I'm smart enough to know that what happened came from this room. — He threw a look at me, challenging me to disagree with him.
― Alright. ― I agreed.
— The magic of Elves is softer, it will not worsen your pain. And you will take two doses of Dreamless Sleep as soon as you get there. — He said.
― Alright. ― I repeated.
Ten minutes later, Winky settled me into my bed in the apartment at Hogsmeade and handed me the two vials of potions Severus gave her before we left. Before I plunged into potion-induced sleep, his gaze upon me filled my mind. I mentally thanked him for saving my life and whispered that I would let him do anything, if he always looked at me with that expression, before being swallowed by the darkness brought by the potion.
They were knocking on the door and I was going to cast a killing curse on whoever was on the other side of it. Perhaps not the Killing curse, but a Cruciatus, yes. The fact that my feet were crawling under me after ten in the morning was just one example of how horrible I felt.
— I'm coming! ― I screamed when the beat became even more obnoxious. — Professor? ― I asked when I unlocked the upper lock, and then the lower one, pulling the door open in only one slot.
— Severus, that's enough. Let me in. — He answered softly.
Only after I opened the door, I thought about the fact that I had just rolled out of bed. My hair was a nightmare and my face was definitely swollen.
— I just got up. — I explained weakly, watching him lock the door when he entered.
— I can see. ― The same eyes I saw in my mind before falling asleep looked at my face for a second, moving away a little lower briefly, before finally taking a look at my small living room. — I called you.
― I dropped my phone here in the room after I warned Minerva that I would not go today. ― I explained.
Even with the potion, I had slept like a complete trash. My bruised right side didn't let me find a comfortable sleeping position and I felt miserable when my alarm clock rang at six. Minerva did not hesitate to tell me to get better and come back once my mysterious "virus" was gone. I hated lying to her, but there was no chance to tell what happened, and I hoped Severus wouldn't say anything either. To ease the guilt, I promised my headmistress that I would visit a healer and stay in bed.
— She told me. ― He answered, taking a few more steps and examining my small kitchen, turning his gaze to me, inspected me from head to toe, frowning. — I came to check if you were alive.
— I'm fine, Severus. I feel like I've been hit by the Hogwarts Express, but I'm fine.
— You missed training. That is an indication that you are not okay, Granger.
He really had an excellent point.
― I have a private medical appointment at noon, just to make sure nothing is broken.
His expression darkened as he walked into the kitchen.
— Do you have tea or coffee?
I pointed it out. ― Both of them.
He made an indiscriminate noise when he searched my kitchen cabinets.
— Well, feel free. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed for the appointment.
Thirty minutes later, I had taken a shower, brushed my teeth and managed to contain my hair in what could be considered a bun, to make an appearance back in the living room of my apartment. Severus was sitting on the couch, drinking black coffee from a cup printed with a static image of a bug and watching something on my television.
— Are you hungry? — I asked him, because I was, yes, very hungry.
― No. — He answered, still not turning from his focus on the screen.
I started looking for something easy to cook in my pantry and fridge. I opted for some frozen fruit to mix with the almond milk and made myself a chicken pate sandwich.
― Here. — I said, holding one of the glasses and offering him some smoothie.
Severus caught it without a word, placing the glass on the coffee table. Rigidly, I took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, with the plate on my lap and sat there watching the medical TV show go on screen.
― Why do you have so many recordings of this series? — He asked, pointing at my DVD rack.
— Because I like it. — I replied, while watching him play another episode. Not even fifteen minutes of the program had passed when he completely turned his whole body towards me, with a suspicious expression. I put the plate on my lap and blinked my eyes. — What, Severus?
— Do you like him or the series as a whole?
Oh, yeah. Neville had laughed hysterically when I admitted how hot I thought the protagonist is, already slightly gray, and who was past his forties. I didn't care about the laughter of my assistant, the actor is really attractive, and the medical theme of the series only helps.
— Him, for the most part. — I said, shrugging.
Severus's facial expression didn't change, but his tone did.
— Are you kidding?
― No. — I answered seriously.
— Why? ― He asked me, as if I had said some nonsense.
I held my sandwich in the air, directly under my mouth, before taking a bite.
— Why not?
— You are young enough to be his daughter. — He said it abruptly.
I almost laughed, but preferred to bite off another piece of my food and watched him carefully, amused at how strange it was that he seemed so indignant at who I found attractive.
— First, physically he is not even remotely like my father, and secondly, I could care less about his age. — Severus shook his head in disbelief. — And, he is in good shape.
— He limps. — Severus amended.
― You are being ableist now, professor. — His mouth fell a millimeter open. — What?
— Do you have problems with your father?
— What? No! — I replied, surprised at the direction of our conversation. — My father was great, Merlin, Severus, where did you get it from?
His eyes narrowed, but his expression was amusing when some kind of perception caught up with him.
— You like old men. — He concluded.
I bit my lips. He was so close to the truth that he almost made me laugh.
— I would say... mature men? — Severus looked at me for so long that I really began to laugh. — Stop looking at me like that. I just find the boys my age very... green. ― I explained. He hasn't said a word yet. — Everybody has a type. I'm sure you do too.
— I'm not attracted to seniors.
— Okay, all right. You don't like older men or women.
He didn't bother to observe my point about him being attracted to men.
— I don't have any type. — He said slowly.
Yes, he did, and I knew exactly what it was: redhead. — Everyone is attracted to certain characteristics, even you. ― I retorted.
Those black eyes blinked. — Do you want to know who I am attracted to?
I was thirty seconds late to realize I didn't want to know. After all, do I really want to hear him talk about the requirements that I don't fit into? Definitely not. But it's not like I can go back at that point. Grinding my teeth, I agreed.
— Go ahead, if you think I'm so weird. ― I defied him.
— I like legs.
Legs? — And? — I pushed him.
His eyes narrowed only a little. — Confidence, beautiful hair, someone who makes me laugh.
I let go of an unbelieving snitch.
— Are you making things up? ― I doubted. Why, seriously, think of Severus Snape smiling?
— Is there anything wrong with my list? ― He asked with an unyielding twinkle in his eyes.
— Someone who makes you laugh? I feel like you're going to start saying "someone who loves Cornish Pixies" after that.
— Just because I'm not attracted to people old enough, doesn't mean my list is made up, Granger. — He answered.
It made me laugh again.
— You make it seem like I visit nursing homes to get a date. — I pointed at the TV. ― This actor is only a year older than you, so think about it, Severus Snape.
He looked at me with a sour expression. ― You are the most insolent person I have ever met in my life.
Smiling, I pulled out another piece of my sandwich.
— Actually, that's Harry. But since he founded your private fan club, I think I ended up inheriting the post.
He smiled lightly from my comment and finally turned his attention to television. We watched the rest of the episode in silence and when it was over, I got up, taking my plate and glasses to the kitchen, talking to him along the way.
― I have to leave in thirty minutes. If you promise not to steal my DVDs, you can stay here and watch more muggle TV shows.
— I have a driver. He can take us.
Us? My plate made a noise when I dropped it into the sink. — Do you want to come?
— I don't have anything else to do.
I really had no idea what Severus was doing when he wasn't training us. I walked to the couch again and sat down, looking at him. I knew he could interpret my next question as invasive, but so be it.
― What exactly do you do every day?
It was a sincere question. Considering how many wizards there were today, we all performed mandatory duties, but I never knew where he fit in. In fact, until he returned to Hogwarts, no one even knew about him at all. Except that he was reclusive and had refused any formal work. So, what does he do when he's not in training? Severus kept his attention forward, but I could see that the shoulder closest to me strained, although his answer was simple.
― Nothing.
— You have nothing to do? — I repeated in disbelief.
― No. Some correspondence and phone calls, nothing significant.
— Do you still act as a potion master?
― Yes. And like you, I have an assistant who takes care of everything so that I do not have to. I have minimized my obligations recently.
― Are you at what magical level? — He looked at me, but did not answer. — I ask only because you could get any function you wanted. — I offered awkwardly.
— Half-blood wizards are, at most, level seven. — He said.
— Your demonstrations in our duels make me doubt that you are a level seven... — I saw his expression close and gave up insisting on it. — So, a hobby maybe?
His expression softened, but he only shrugged. I don't know for what reason, but knowing about his idle availability of time, reminded me of the night I went to pick him up at the bar. He is sure to be lonely and drowns in alcohol from time to time to forget about this condition. Suddenly, several things started to make sense in my head: why he played non-magical Quidditch with me, asked me to duel him, and why he's now here in my apartment. I was one of his only friends, if that's how I can call myself. This sense of obligation to be, perhaps, the only friend he has, stirred in my chest. Leaning back against the couch for a few more minutes, I got the thought in my head.
— In that case, I think you will need a glamour spell on your face before we leave.
— Why? — He asked, arching an eyebrow.
— Because healers are usually fan of yours. Because of their brilliant scores in potions. And reporters are chasing you. ― I explained. — So, everyone magical will want to know what you were doing in a private medical facility with me and the next cover of The Daily Prophet will have a headline saying that I am pregnant with your baby.
Severus sighed. — It wouldn't be the first time.
He was right. When war came to an end and magic disappeared, some people suggested that spawning magical children could be the solution to unleashing magic again. No wonder, births exploded in the first two years of magical scarcity. It had been bad for everyone. People found themselves entitled to put a schedule on each wizard and witch to spawn "magical babies". I had ended my relationship with Ron well by this time and this added to my particular nightmare of being one of the witches with full magic, who refused to have a baby of a pure-blood wizard to help him with his lack of magic. Anyone who was not in a relationship at the time ― which was the case with Severus — was induced to ally with someone in this search for healing. I can recall at least a few times throughout that period that some tabloid reported that he had impregnated someone, as rumors rained down about babies and relationships. It was a nightmare, it had been impossible to ignore all the drama, no matter how much we wanted.
— That's the price of fame. ― I said.
His gaze seemed lost for a moment, as if he was remembering everything that went by as well. But, it's not like he was a person who talked about his own life, however, even when he answered me with a single word, I realized that it was a delicate matter for him.
― Yes.
I cleared my throat and decided to soften the mood.
— What a pity that Skeeter does not hit anything right about you.
There was a pause before he let out a laugh.
— Granger, I really don't know how I haven't cursed you yet.
— At least I say things in front of you, not behind your back. And I've already earned a fair share of curses in that damn war. I'm really going to pass that.
He smiled when he saw me shudder slightly.
— Hermione, I haven't seen you here in a long time! — Said Padma Patil, now an assistant in the clinic where I was consulting, when I handed her a clipboard with my paperwork.
— You make it seem like that's not a good thing, Padma. — I answered with a smile.
She winked at me.
― We will call you in a few moments.
I nodded and smiled at the couple waiting patiently behind me. I returned to my place in the corner of the room, where Severus was sitting next to the radio tuned to the news station. I muffled a moan as I sat down, my hands holding strong the arms of the armchair in the journey from my torso down.
He was looking at me, shaking his head in disapproval.
— What? ― I grumbled
He looked at my torso, but quickly turned his gaze to my face. — You're damned.
― I will take this as a compliment, since I do not usually miss a training if I am not in this state. The last time I missed class, I was bedridden after Dolohov cursed me in the Department of Mysteries. ― I sighed in pain when I finished settling in.
Severus hit the side of my knee with the palm of his hand.
— I'll be back.
I tried to smile, but stopped the action halfway when I felt a twinge on my right side; the effect of the analgesic potion I took in the morning was passing.
— Okay.
Extending to his full height, he made his way out of the small reception area towards the bathroom. I pulled my phone out of the bag and started typing a message to Neville, letting him know that I came for an appointment and was going to have exams very soon. I hadn't screwed up much with him today taking the day off, there weren't as many patients in our care until the weekend, and two other mediwizards took turns to take my shift today. I smiled at his response, saying that I should only go to work until I knew for sure that I would not be doing any more damage to myself and that he would drag all the resident mediwizards to help him in the care of our ward.
― Can you increase the volume?
I looked up from my phone to see the man who had been behind me checking in with his wife, looking forward from his seat on the other side of the room. He was referring to the radio.
― Of course. ― I answered, extending my fingers to the button and absentmindedly increasing the volume. It took me a second to realize what was topic on the radio station for today.
"... How long will a fake hero cover hide things he doesn't want the public to know about? Honestly, I would not be surprised if there was even a revocation of the apparition license in Snape's ministerial register, even if no one can find evidence of this. He was elevated to hero even though half of the wizarding community hates him, only because the ministry makes a point of forgetting that he was one of the most faithful Death…"
I pressed the off button, my heart beating in my throat. My God of Heaven, were they doubting Severus's character again? They argued about him having a fucking restriction for apparition, when he shouldn't even be able to apparate, because he was a half-blood wizard. Don't they have nothing better to talk about? Do these people remember that Snape can fly without a broom?
— Excuse me. Would you mind turning it on again? — Asked the man on the other side of the room.
I was suddenly incredibly grateful that I had told Severus to put some glamour on his face before we left. Feeling still nervous, I denied it with my head.
— In a minute. I'm sorry.
The stranger couldn't believe I denied it, and I was honestly surprised to have said it too. But when I thought about it, I'd rather a stranger think I was rude, than Severus listening to that crap. He hadn't acted strangely, so I don't think he knew he was being News on Wizard's radio.
— Are you the radio inspector or something? — The man asked with a frown.
I tried to argue with myself that he was being an idiot because I was the one who started it.
― No. — I answered calmly, looking him in the eye, because being shy when you are being rude only makes things worse. — I'll put it back in a second. ― I completed it while rooting that if I waited a minute, the anchors would already be talking about something else.
The guy looked at me and sometimes you don't really need to say the word "bitch" to fire the message the other way. Obviously, this man mastered this talent.
I felt Severus before he really was back. He purposely passed in front of me to take his place in the chair next to mine. It took less than two seconds for him to catch the hateful vibrations the other man was sending me and he leaned forward, one elbow leaning over his knee and half of his body turned towards me, but his head directed towards the stranger.
― I'm sure there are other things you can look at, Sir. — Severus said in his lethally soft voice.
― I'd be paying attention to the radio, if your wife hadn't turned it off. — Explained the man.
Severus didn't ask me why I turned it off, or why I didn't turn it on again. He stood in the same position as he was, his free hand resting on his knee.
― So instead of worrying about the radio, maybe you should worry about your own health, don't you? This is still a medical waiting room since I last checked.
Oh, Merlin!
— Miss. Granger, follow me? — A voice spoke from the door.
I stood up and lightly patted Severus on the shoulder while he was still staring at the man across the room. He immediately got up with me. Reducing my voice so that only he could hear, I whispered.
— You should call Vector. They were talking about you on the lunch show on the radio and it was about the other side. You know what I mean? — His eyes moved from one of mine to the other before he waved in understanding. I don't know why I did this, but I reached out and took his wrist. ― What anyone else thinks about you is no big deal, alright?
— Miss. Granger? — The healer called my name once again.
— I'm going. — I took a step back. — Let me get it over with.
I barely saw the time spent on exams, mainly because I was distracted thinking about the situation with Severus. He neither confirmed nor denied anything. So, what does that mean? Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in a room with my healer when he waved his wand and showed me the images of my ribs.
— Nothing is broken. Did you see it here? Not even a fracture. — He confirmed and I smiled at the healer with whom I consulted whenever I wanted discretion. — You have some strong bones in you, Miss Granger. — He joked while scribbling something in my file. ― I still recommend that you take a week for safety... — I choked. — or at least four days, if you choose to be stubborn and come back. — He stared at me with a smile. — And I'll prescribe you a special potion. Ask Minerva to call me if she has questions about your days on leave. Your body needs this rest.
Handing my file to his assistant, the older man smiled.
— My wife and I went to the presentation to the community. — He noted. — You really give us hope, girl. I haven't seen anyone be as good witch as you. And you went even higher in level, didn't you?
— Yeah, I'm level ten now. ― I cleared my throat and ignored the strangeness I felt at the mention of the hope placed in me. — Thank you for coming to see our presentation, by the way. I'll probably get two good places to go to our presentation with another school in case you want to go again.
— That would be great. Against any of them, it would be great. — Hugh smiled and I made a mental note to remember asking Kingsley for a seat release. — So, ah, what is it like to work with Severus Snape?
His cheeks were pink on the apples, which made me realize that he was probably one of Severus's African fans. Hugh had been a student at Uagadou. I was suddenly grateful that Severus did not follow me to the exam room. I could only imagine how much the healer would freak out if he knew that the renowned Potion Master was sitting in his waiting room.
— He is great. He is tough, but he knows what he is talking about. And I'm kind of used to it already. I was his student for six years at Hogwarts.
— I bet you do. I always wanted to meet him. — Healer Hugh had a dreamy look in his eyes.
― I was nervous around him at first, since now we would be something closer to co-workers, but he is like everyone else. ― I talked while sliding off the examination table as smoothly as possible and headed towards the door. ― I will send via owl the tickets as soon as I get them.
His assistant passed me my file and gave me instructions on the payment to be made with Padma. I thanked him and opened the door, finding Severus standing, against the wall right next to her.
— You scared me. — I nodded and looked back to make sure Hugh was still sitting at his desk. I made a gesture towards the exit where my old colleague at Hogwarts was. — Come on.
I made my payment as quickly as possible, trying to get out of there before my healer saw my "friend". Friend who didn't say a single word as we took the elevator to the exit and was quiet when we got in the car. His jaw was cracked, his shoulders even more tense if possible, and his hands wrapped in fists as he looked out the window for the entire trip.
I swallowed and looked out the opposite window, not knowing what to say to improve the situation. Honestly, I didn't even want to ask. While I was almost sure that he considered me a friend, I did not fool myself into thinking that he was going to pour out his problems to me. Considering that there are things I can't tell him either, especially about the tomb and the way I was injured yesterday, I don't think I'm in a position to be hypocritical and ask.
But when the car stopped in the garage leading to my apartment, I hesitated. Severus was still motionless and looking out the window; apparently, he was not going out.
― Hey. ― I called him. He avoided eye contact and said nothing, but his jaw flexed. — Your reputation is just what everyone thinks of you, your character is what you really are, Severus.
I knew from the moment he licked his lower lip, that he was not longing for my support. But knowing I was about to get it wasn't enough warning.
— If I needed inspiring nonsense, I would ask.
Well, alright. Bottling my irritation, I tried to put myself in his place. I would hate it if all my acts of redemption were put to the test by a single wrong choice from my past. He was sure to be frustrated, but I was really just trying to help. I took a deep breath as my hand pressed the door handle.
― I'm just trying to say that this is not the end of the world. You will go through it as you always have. At the end of the day, that's no big deal, right?
Severus kept his attention forward; his index finger rose to scratch his nose. I could feel the arrogance that came from him. Good Merlin.
— How old are you? — He asked in a cold voice.
— What does it matter how old I am? — I answered evenly. I wasn't going to let him make me feel insignificant just because I hadn't lived as long as he did.
— You're just a girl. You are not in a position to tell me what is important and what is not, nor how I should deal with it.
The indignation burned my throat. I sat more upright and threw a miserable look at him, which would have been much more effective if he had actually been in front of me.
― I'm fine that you're upset because you're talking about your life on national radio, but I didn't think it would detract me when all I'm trying to do is put it in a new perspective for you.
— You don't know anything, Granger. You are an immaculate heroine. — He muttered.
Merlin! This man is unbearable!
— I know enough! You are not the only person in the world who has done something you regret. So, what if you have your license to apparate suspended? Fuck you, Severus. You pay a driver to take you everywhere, or use your hero privileges and have Robards authorize dozens of Portkeys for you. What about being a Death Eater? Your wrong choices have dictated your life for too long, so what matters now is what you do to yourself. Being an asshole to me is not the way to do that. But what do I know? I am immaculate and young, right? — Knowing that there was nothing to do or say, I opened the door and turned my whole body to get out as easily as possible to my ribs. — Thanks for the ride and for coming with me. — I said before I left.
Nothing. He didn't say a word and I was indignant enough to just slam the car door and head straight to my door.
But any anger I felt at the moment evaporated as soon as I laid my gaze upon the steps of my entrance. Wearing a black suit without a crease even out of place, a briefcase in hand and a curious look, perhaps having seen me just arguing with our common professor of so many years ago, was Draco. Curled between his legs, shyly hiding from me, there was a little boy, with the same platinum blonde hair and the same gray eyes, which were the striking features of any Malfoy.
Final Notes
Hello, I used poetic license to suggest that when this story takes place, TV Series House M.D. already exists and Hermione is a super fan, just like myself.
This chapter has an official fanart made by Chiasan, which can be found in the link: survianafics. carrd. co
Cheers!
