Chapter 14. Cataracta
Sitting on a rock by the Great Lake, Hermione was deeply invested in her novel. She had finished it the previous night, keeping her promise not to fall asleep on it like she had the first novel he lent her, but she was not yet prepared to return it to him. Given she may have been using the tome as a way to keep her mind from wandering to her feelings for him, the sensation of his lips pressed against hers, his cock so skilfully- Stop, she cursed herself, starting the paragraph she had glazed over once more. The young witch adjusted to sit up a bit straighter, hoping to practice focusing her attention before she would have to return to school work.
It was hard for her to concentrate on anything since that night, and she was putting off homework until later. Hopefully, by then she would have processed the event a little more and been successful at compartmentalising the memory. If not, it was all too likely she would slip up in an essay, wasting parchment and ink and her time. Instead, she allowed herself that morning to reread the last novel she would ever get from Severus Snape and slip into daydreams and picture his flesh against hers. She was relishing in the time she had alone though, to read, to lose herself in thought, but she realised it wouldn't last long as she heard the voices of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter coming towards her.
Taking a deep breath, she flattened her book on her lap and looked up to see the rest of her trio walking with their brooms in hand. Oh shite, the Quidditch game, she remembered, wincing, and offering a sheepish smile as they approached. "You missed the game, 'mione, we crushed Hufflepuff. Not a surprise though, innit?" Ron said jovially, sticking the shaft of his broom into the ground beside her. Harry did similar on her other side.
"Just reading, yeah? I understand wanting to avoid the mass of prats gossiping about your love life," Harry sighed and sat down on the rock beside her. "It's died down a bit, something about a Ravenclaw being caught shagging a Hufflepuff in an alcove last night." Hermione swallowed at the comment. At least it wasn't your sex life people are talking about, you were definitely not in an alcove last night, the thought made her shudder. Hermione couldn't help but feel a touch sorry for the couple who was now the focus of the gossip.
There was still a thick layer of snow on the ground, and she found it hard to believe her friends were going to stay outside with her in nothing but their Quidditch gear. She was bundled up, a knit cap, winter jacket layered on top of a jumper, and the thickest pair of jeans she could find in her closet. Her boots were brimmed with fake fur and covered up to her knee, keeping her sufficiently warm in the colder weather. It wasn't snowing at that moment, and she was grateful for the break, as reading inside would not be nearly as refreshing and she was in desperate need of a change in scenery.
"Yeah, it's nice to have peace and quiet sometimes, and I would definitely be too easy to find in the library," the witch joked, marking her spot by folding the corner of the page and closing the book. It was hard to keep the mood light when she was torn between elation of losing her virginity to Severus bloody Snape, and the fact that she would not have the pleasure again any time soon. "How are classes going for you two? I feel like we haven't had a moment to talk in a while, and I know I usually help you out with things," she attempted to deflect her train of thought. Hermione's busy schedule was suddenly a lot more open given the cancellation of her tutoring sessions, but she wasn't about to hop right back into doing her friend's homework for them. They had survived this long into the term without her, they could make it longer.
"I'm keeping my head above water, mostly thanks to the Half-Blood Prince," Harry noted, making the witch frown back at her friend. Before she could open her mouth to judge him, he raised a hand in front of her face. "I know, I know, I should throw it away. I can't help it, Hermione, it's just so incredibly helpful, and with everything going on with Dumbledore and shit, I feel like I can use the help." Hermione sighed. She supposed it was fair, given his abnormally full schedule from his private lessons with Dumbledore. Still, Hermione felt as though he were cheating through his education, something that bothered her on a deeply emotional level. I'm one to talk, her thoughts travelling to her blatant disregard for rules the previous evening. Harry, however, was not quite at the educational level she was, and she could afford to break the rules so long as she didn't get caught. The brunette hoped that at least the lessons with the Headmaster were helping him gain some sort of magical education.
"And you Ron?" She posed, steering the conversation away from rule-breaking activity. The red-head shifted uncomfortably in his spot and shrugged his shoulders. She noted how awkward he presented himself, something that she rarely saw in her Professor except for his casual break-down in the bathroom after their encounter. Her thoughts passed to the image of a very naked Potion's master's backside scurrying into the bathroom. It had taken her a moment to register exactly why he had leapt from her, as she was still recovering from her particular high. The sound of him becoming sick shook her immediately to the present and she quickly summoned her clothes, dressing hastily before finding him bent over the loo.
At that moment her mind was swirling with worries that she'd hurt him, or that he was so disgusted with her that he was physically ill. Most of all, she was just worried about him. She summoned a blanket from the bed and covered him with it, as her mother had so many times with her when she was distressed from bullying received in primary school. It comforted her to have him press his cheek to her chest. She felt wanted, like he had made her feel right up until that moment, and she was once again overcome with a sense of devotion to the wizard.
"I'm managing, I guess," Ron's voice brought her quickly back to the present and she adjusted her far-off gaze to focus on her friend. "Lavender may have been a bimbo, but she was quite eager to help me with my schooling. Kinda miss that part," and the snogging, Hermione presumed, a slight grin appearing on her lips. It made her laugh now, to think of Lavender being so jealous of her to go about spreading rumours. Given it had single-handedly ruined her tutoring lessons and any potential relationship she could have explored with Snape, it had prompted her professor to make a rash decision to make a move on her. And that was bloody brilliant, Hermione sighed at the memory, but immediately forced herself back to reality.
"I'm sorry you two broke up over me, Ronald," the brunette offered half-heartedly. She wasn't really sorry, but she felt the moment called for it. Thankfully, her apology made Ron burst into a bout of laughter to which Harry and Hermione joined in.
"She was a right twat to spread that shit about you, good riddance if you ask me," Ron scoffed, turning his head to look out over the Great Lake. Hermione winced at his use of insult, but before she could scold him for the particularly distasteful comment, the sound of crunching snow drew her attention. She turned towards the noise and she saw Draco approach the group. He was alone, which was odd considering he was consistently surrounded with at least two Death Eater legacies, but Hermione was on guard nevertheless.
"Malfoy," Hermione heard Harry spit from her right before he stood. She tucked herself behind Ron and placed her hand over her wand in a defensive stance. Her stomach flopped as she attempted to remember all the advice she'd received in her private, non-verbal defence lesson with Severus. Perhaps they will come in handy sooner than I had thought, Hermione considered, her Gryffindor bravery wavering as she stared down her blond nemesis
"No need to attack, Potter. I come in peace," the blond spoke as he neared them, never slowing his pace even at the sight of Ron and Harry's wands drawn and poised to strike. "I just want to talk to Hermione, is all," he continued forward. The mention of her name made her eyes widen considerably as she considered why on earth Draco sodding Malfoy would want to talk to me?
"Like hell, you will."
-x-
Hermione awoke with a gasp, sitting up abruptly and looked around the darkened room in a panic. She felt a coldness deep in her soul that left her shivering even though she was certain the blankets covering her were charmed with warmth. Her teeth chattered as she registered that she was in the infirmary, which was oddly empty for being directly after a Quidditch game. "Hello?" She called out into the vacant room, hoping that Madame Pomfrey could shed some light on why, exactly, she was in a medical bed. Attempting to remember, she found quite a large blank space in her memory, which worried her more than anything at that moment. As she slowly adjusted to consciousness, she became acutely aware of how much every muscle in her entire body screamed in agony, and how bloody cold she was.
The echo of pattering feet against the infirmary floor drew her back to the present and she watched as Madame Promfrey approached her in a bit of a panic. "Oh, Miss Granger, thank goodness you're awake. I was beginning to think you'd been frozen into a coma!" The mediwitch fussed over her, casting more warming charms and testing spells. Handing her charge a vial of a pain potion, the older witch continued on her diagnostic crusade. Hermione downed it, eager to ease her pain, then she sat up slightly in the cot hoping to find a more comfortable position.
"What happened?" Hermione asked sheepishly, playing with the fabric of a throw blanket as she leaned back to rest against the stack of pillows her caretaker had fluffed for her. The older witch signed and regarded the brunette with a sense of pity Hermione always hated to receive.
"You were knocked into the Great Lake on Saturday, there is a bit of a mixed answer as to who it was that cast the particular spell that left you paralyzed in the freezing cold lake," she explained with a bit of disgust in her tone. "Your friends rescued you and brought you to me, but you've been asleep for coming up on a good three days, Miss." Hermione's stomach dropped at the mention. Three days? That means… That means I've missed class, that it's almost Tuesday, the panic from her thoughts was obviously shining directly through to her facial expression because the mediwitch started fussing once more. "I am so sorry dear, I'm sure your friends grabbed some notes for you, your professors will understand." The brunette swallowed hard and closed her eyes.
"Oh, dear gods, I had so much homework to finish over the weekend," she groaned as the cold once again shot a stinging through her core.
"Get some rest, dear girl, you'll feel better in the morning. I'll be sure to let Professor McGonagall know so she can alert Mister Potter and Mister Weasley." With that, Hermione was once again alone in the now dimly lit space. Tuesday? How could I have managed to sleep for three bloody days? Her mind swirled with the news she had just received, worried to the core that she had missed something that would be vital for her to pass the N.E.W.T.s Hermione's heart pounded in her ears as she let herself lean back against the pillow. The silence surrounding her was suddenly deafening and she was almost certain the entire room was spinning as she attempted to ground herself.
"Hermione?" A whisper came out of the darkness and she shot back up from her bed. While the area was dimly lit, she could tell that the infirmary was definitely empty. Oh great, now I've gone bloody mad, she thought angrily, dragging her hands through her hair, attempting to hold the mess at the back of her head in a sort of knot. It didn't hold of course, and as she was busy attempting to figure out exactly how to make it work, she didn't notice the shuffling of feet that preceded the appearance of her two best friends at her bedside. The witch nearly leapt from the cot at the sudden guests, reaching for her wand instinctively before she could convince herself that they were friends.
"For fuck's sake Harry!" Hermione hissed, clutching her chest as she attempted to steady her breathing.
"Sorry, 'mione," Ron offered, coming to the other side of her bed. "I'm glad you're okay, we were so bloody worried. Sodding git threw our Hermione into the Great bloody Lake," the red-head huffed, obviously still particularly pissed off of the event he was recounting. Harry seemed to stop him, sending him a glare that Hermione just barely caught.
"How much do you remember?" Harry asked, his emerald eyes assessing her. If she was being particularly honest, she didn't remember a whole lot. We were by the lake because I had started to feel suffocated indoors, and they had just left a Quidditch match. Malfoy- she stopped her internal monologue, realising it did her friends no good for her to stay cooped up in her own head.
"I was reading by the lake, you guys met me, Malfoy appeared and he- well, I don't really know what happened after he showed up," Hermione echoed her thoughts with a shrug, attempting to use her newly honed Occlumency skills to isolate any further memories she had maybe not registered as important at the time. Unfortunately, it seemed as though her hippocampus had also decided to take a dive into the Great Lake with her. Glancing up at her dark-haired friend once more, she noticed a sort of grin on his lips.
"Well, after Draco came up to us, he sent a hex at me and Ron sent one back. Draco cast Petrificus Totalus at Ron because he was obviously just in it to fight me and well, Ron moved and it hit you. You fell back and well, stumbled into the lake. Since you were paralyzed, you couldn't swim up." Harry explained, his eyes shifting to Ron every once in a while, as if looking for clues he was remembering everything correctly. She noticed Harry was mindlessly picking at his fingers as he went through the events before she looked up at his face. Behind his glasses, Harry's eyes were darting all over the place, not just to Ron.
"That must have been terrifying for you," Hermione offered quietly.
"It was," Ron interjected, tearing her attention away from Harry. "The Lake was bloody cold, but I jumped in after you. The water was so murky, but I got you before you sunk too far down. Then we brought you straight to Madame Pomfrey," the ginger finished triumphantly. He seemed far too pleased to announce himself as her knight in shining armour, and it sent an awkward tingle down her spine. She hoped he wasn't returning to his feelings for her, then I'd have to break his heart, she determined with a sigh.
"Thank you, both, for rescuing me," she whispered, a lump developing in her throat. She swallowed hard and sent a thankful glance at her former crush. "You especially Ron, that lake in February must have been brutal," she finished, sitting up a little straighter in her bed. The pain solution the mediwitch had given her was setting in and the soreness in her muscles was lessening to an overall dull ache.
The three ended up chatting for a bit about classes and the homework she missed before Madame Pomfrey returned and the two were forced to huddle up again under their cloak of invisibility. The mediwitch had said pointedly to no one in particular, "Miss Granger needs her rest to heal up, don't think I didn't hear you all chatting earlier," before she ran a couple more diagnostic spells on her patient. The pattering off feed hurrying off out of the infirmary made the older witch smile and head off into her office for the evening. Hermione was awfully tired, too tired to feel embarrassment for allowing her friends to break curfew, even though she had just slept for three solid days, and quickly fell asleep.
-x-
It was barely sun-up when Hermione woke the next morning, looking around the empty ward for Madame Pomfrey. She was eagerly awaiting her permission to leave the infirmary so she could return to class, but the mediwitch was nowhere to be found. She was partially worried there may have been another student she just couldn't see from her vantage point sleeping in one of the other cots, so she didn't dare call out for attention. Instead, she simply sat up in her cot and attempted to think of all the subjects that were supposed to be taught this week.
"Miss Granger," the velvet soft, deep voice of her Defence teacher made her head spin around drastically. She had nearly forgotten about her affair with her professor but there was no blank in her memory about that night now as she stared at the tall, brooding man before her. Hermione half expected him to be surrounded by other professors. Given that he was no longer allowed to tutor her, she assumed visiting her in the infirmary was likely worse when it came to adding fuel to rumours. The young witch was suddenly very self-conscious. She hadn't showered in four days, her hair was probably more of a mess than usual, and greasy on top of that. She was wearing a hospital gown as her clothes were likely drenched and freezing from her dip in the lake. I am in absolutely no condition to face my crush after I just had sodding sex with the man, she thought in a panic. Her cheeks were likely a deep shade of red as she took him in. "I am so glad you're alright," he whispered, regarding her with a deep level of concern.
"Thank you, I am- I'm fine." She stated coolly, swallowing hard and looking down at her hands which were suddenly far more interesting than anything else in the room at that moment. Hermione hadn't been sure how she would react to seeing her professor after their last tutoring session, but it definitely didn't follow this trajectory in any of her hypothetical scenarios. Any Gryffindor courage she thought she possessed was eluding her in this real-life encounter. He didn't approach her cot, from what she could see in her periphery, so she glanced up. Severus was now surrounded by Dumbledore and McGonagall, which made far more sense than his solitary visit. The potion's master was stiff and unfeeling, unlike he'd been just a moment prior.
"I'm glad you're awake, Miss Granger," Dumbledore simpered, before looking past her. "Poppy, will our patient be able to return to her normal schedule today?" Hermione's focus turned to the mediwitch who had arrived at her side. The older witch was casting more diagnostic spells and a few more warming charms that comforted the student deeply.
"While I would be inclined to keep her another day for observation, there is nothing to indicate she couldn't manage a day of classes," Poppy replied, with a nod to the headmaster who seemed all too pleased at the news.
"Wonderful, you have potions this morning, do you not, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore spoke in a calm, collected manner that made Hermione feel as though he had a plan brewing. She never quite understood why Harry trusted the coy and covert wizard so deeply. Something about his secretive nature made the brunette feel slightly off in his presence. He had a goal and a strategy to get there, but she could never make out exactly what it was he was planning.
"Yes sir," Hermione confirmed, her stare drifting to her Head of House who was looking at her sympathetically. She dared, for a brief second, to glance at Severus Snape, who stood as statuesque as ever to the older witch's left. His eyes were darker than normal, and he looked truly exhausted, which sent a pang of worry into her gut. She dismissed the sensation as she turned her scrutiny to Dumbledore who was engrossed in a private conversation with Madame Pomfrey.
"You are excused from all homework assigned that was due today, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall stepped in. "And your professors have compiled teaching notes for you, and anything else can be gathered from your classmates, surely." The older witch continued, taking up the spot closest to Hermione's cot and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps refraining from reading by the Great Lake in February may help avoid accidents like this in the future." Hermione laughed at the obvious advice, and her Head of House smiled in return.
"Come, Severus, we will leave the ladies to prepare Miss Granger for her day of classes." Hermione glanced over McGonagall's shoulder at Dumbledore who was ushering Severus from the infirmary. A part of her knew that this would be how interactions between the two would go from that point forward. Other people would be present, interrupting them, and stealing them away from each other. She felt as though she had lost the first true friend she had ever had, counting Ron and Harry. They loved her, mostly for her benefit to them, but still, they did. However, she never felt as though she truly belonged in the group, and they never shared her interest in reading and she never was quite interested in Quidditch as much as they were. Regardless, they are the best you have now, she sighed, returning her attention to the Deputy Headmistress at her side.
"Get up, we'll get you dressed and fed before Potions," her professor insisted, helping Hermione to stand from her cot. "I imagine you will have quite the exhausting day, you'll need all the strength you can to answer the baffling amount questions surely waiting for you." The brunette nodded, chewing her lips cautiously as she followed McGonagall out of the infirmary.
"Wait!" Hermione's heart nearly stopped beating as a key fact returned to her. The grey-haired witch stopped and looked back at her charge, perplexed. "I had a novel with me, by the Lake, did anyone turn it in?" The brunette asked, her voice breaking at the worry she may have lost the loan from Severus.
"It was just you, Potter and Weasley said nothing about a book," McGonagall responded with a touch of regret in her tone. "Perhaps it went with you into the lake?" She proposed, making Hermione's heart sink. I have ruined everything Severus has ever given me, what a perfect analogy for our relationship, Hermione lamented, unable to hide her disappointment. "We were only able to recover your wand through magic, we didn't think to search for a book," the older witch continued as Hermione instinctively gripped her wand tighter. "Although, knowing you, we ought to have canvassed the area for a tome or two," she joked. Hermione didn't smile. "Come on, let's get you to the tower," McGonagall deflected.
Hermione was hesitant to return to her House, knowing full well she would be berated upon her arrival. I'll have to face it at some point, what better time than the present, she mused bitterly, following reluctantly after the Deputy Headmistress.
A/N Cataracta is Latin for Waterfall (thanks google). Thank you for reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following! Things are about to get interesting...