Chapter Two: The Hospital Wing

There was fire in Hermione's veins. She was burning alive from the inside out.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think straight. Couldn't even open her mouth to scream.

She was going to die sprawled out on the stone floor and no one would ever know what had happened.

And then there were hands clutching at her. Voices asking her what was wrong. She tried to tell them to go away but couldn't find the words. Hermione felt herself being lifted, and the cool stone was replaced by a scratchy fabric. She was surrounded by white and recognized, somewhere deep within her, that she was in the Hospital Wing.

The hands were back again. Poking and prodding and pouring liquids down her throat that made her choke. She tried to slap them away, but she couldn't work up the energy.

Suddenly, there was the pale face of Professor Snape hovering above her. She felt his cool hands on her as he examined her.

Then it was over.

The pain was gone and Hermione choked out a sob of relief. She grabbed the man's hand with all of her remaining strength. Clutched at it as if it was a bit of driftwood and she was drowning.

And then she fell into darkness.

When Hermione returned to herself, her vision was still hazy. She blinked a few times and the Hospital Wing slowly came into focus. After a few confused moments, she realized she was being watched.

Headmistress McGonagall sat in a chair pulled up to her bedside. She looked exhausted and worry dominated her usually stern expression. "I'm glad you're finally awake."

Hermione nodded. She had to clear her throat several times before she could speak. "What happened?"

The older woman sighed and leaned forward to place a hand on hers. "You collapsed in the Gryffindor common room. One of the paintings alerted us to your condition."

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered. She felt tears burning at her eyes and turned her face away so the other would not see.

McGonagall hesitated, and when she spoke her voice sounded strained. "We're not sure. While you were in the midst of your … episode, Madam Pomfrey gave you many different potions, tried Healing spells and counter-curses. Nothing seemed to help. And then it just stopped."

Hermione sank back onto her pillows and closed her eyes. Her fingers clutched at the rough blanket that was covering her. "All I remember is the pain. I don't think I've ever felt anything like it before."

The headmistress appeared sympathetic. She patted Hermione's hand again and said, "You should stay here for a while. Get some rest. Madam Pomfrey will be in her office; all you need to do is shout. I think I'm going to go talk to Albus. If only he were really here. He always knew what to do."

The next time the pain began to set into her bones, she gave a panicked shout for Madam Pomfrey. The gray-haired witch came scurrying out of her office with the same worried expression that the headmistress had given her.

It wasn't a reassuring sight. They hadn't been exaggerating when they said that they had no idea what they were dealing with.

"It'll be alright, dear. I'll be right back. I have to send for the others. Just stay calm."

Hermione bit back the harsh words that popped into her head. Stay calm. What a bloody load of bollocks.

She ground her teeth as the pain gradually intensified. Pomfrey was back and she had several tiny bottles in tow. She made some motions over Hermione with her wand, but nothing happened.

The woman made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and then reached for one of the bottles. Unstoppering it, she held it up to Hermione's mouth. "Here, drink this, dearie."

Whatever it was tasted like tar water and made her gag. There was the echoing sound of hastened footsteps and McGonagall and Snape were at her bedside.

"Good, you're here. It just started again. The same as the last time," Pomfrey told the other two while gesturing towards her.

Every single one of Hermione's muscles was clenched; her body was on fire again. She glanced up at Snape, noting his guarded expression. His dark eyes were watching her carefully and his lips had thinned almost to nonexistence.

Very cautiously, he reached out and placed his hand on her clenched fist. Hermione's body went limp on the bed as the pain drifted away again. She glanced up at him with wide eyes.

He returned her gaze with a look that said his suspicions had just been confirmed.

Hermione was reclined on the bed with several pillows propping up her head. She was staring up at the ceiling, trying to distract herself from the trembling that had taken over her body. Her third episode, as the staff had taken to calling them, had just ended. And no matter what they tried, no amount of spells or potions or herbs seemed to have any effect.

Only his touch seemed to calm the fire in her blood.

And still, they had no idea what was happening. The staff was currently crowded in Pomfrey's tiny office; they had been there for at least an hour already. More than once, she thought she'd heard shouting.

They were probably debating whether or not to put her out of her misery. Hermione chuckled at that thought, but there was no humor in the sound.

Looking for some way to entertain herself, she began to count the number of tiles that made up the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. When she had counted forty-eight, the door of the office swung open and slammed violently against the stone wall.

Severus Snape stalked out of the room, his features consumed in a black fury. He did not stop to look at her or anyone else, instead heading straight for the door. Hermione had only seen him angry a few times before and wondered what could have riled him up.

She watched as the rest of the staff trickled out of the Hospital Wing. Some of them shot her apologetic glances. Only Professor McGonagall remained with a somewhat forced smile on her face. She came to sit in the chair by the bed.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well, Miss Granger, we were just having a long discussion about your situation. Because we don't know how long this will continue, we believe certain arrangements should be made."

Hermione's stomach clenched. The other woman was being too placating for this to be anything but more bad news.

"What kind of arrangements?"

"Well," McGonagall began in a faltering voice. "We believe that it would be best for you to stay in Professor Snape's quarters during the evenings. After all, it wouldn't be practical to have the both of you running back and forth across the castle all day."

Hermione's mind seemed to stop functioning for a moment. She stared at the other woman, waiting for her to say that she was joking. But of course, she was rarely the joking type.

"Excuse me, Headmistress. I mean this in the most respectful way, but have you lost your mind?" she said.

McGonagall took on a somewhat exasperated look. "I think those were Professor Snape's words as well. I know that neither one of you are happy about this situation, but we'll all just have to make the best of it. Besides, it's only until we find out what has happened to you."

"That man has hated me since the day I got here! You can't seriously expect this to end well," Hermione cried, her voice taking on a rather shrill tone.

"Are you or are you not both adults?" McGonagall's usual stern decorum had returned and the way she eyed Hermione said that she would accept no more on the subject.

Not willing to risk the other woman's ire, Hermione closed her mouth. She was still unwilling to accept this. It just seemed so unfair. Why did these things always happen to her? She had been fighting for so long and now all she wanted was peace and quiet. But apparently, the universe was conspiring against her.

"I am very sorry. Believe me when I say that we'll be using all of our available resources to discover what's happened to you. Now, Professor Snape has gone to prepare his quarters; he should be back any moment. And tomorrow morning, we will figure out where to go from here."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. "What about the Weasleys? I've been staying at the Burrow. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"You will write them tomorrow and let them know that you have been offered quarters here at Hogwarts. I don't think it would be wise to tell them the details. And that goes for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley as well," McGonagall said, giving her a pointed look.

She heard the sound of footsteps again, and when she looked up Snape was standing just the inside of the door. It seemed like the brunt of his anger had faded. Or maybe he'd just learned how to hide it a long time ago.

The headmistress gave her one last reassuring smile. "Go with Professor Snape, my dear. He'll show you to where you'll be staying. I'll see you at breakfast."

Hermione nodded reluctantly and, after shaking the stiffness from her body, followed her professor from the room.