Hermione's fingers tingled in the warmth of the fire she started in Severus's fireplace. Minerva was overseeing a mass detention, and Hermione was to watch Severus sleep, an activity that appeared to have occupied him since the late morning. Once the wood had properly caught fire, she poured herself a cup of tea from the tray the house-elves had left and occupied herself with looking through his bookshelves, which contained an absurd number of threateningly titled tomes. She withdrew a volume of bound vellum to admire the illuminated text. The detail, particularly in the poisons section, was admirable, if grotesque. As she perused the book, Hermione began to unconsciously hum Adeste Fideles.
A soft rustle of bedclothes drew her attention, and she saw Severus sitting up in bed, frowning at her.
"Would you like some tea, sir?" she offered, standing. "Perhaps a sandwich?"
He continued to frown at her wordlessly. She laid the book down on a chair by the fire and brought the tray to his bedside.
She poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. He took it, warming his hands on the mug. At length, he seized several sandwiches from the tray and ate ravenously, the crumbs sticking to his beard and falling into his sheets. When he had eaten and drunk his fill, he threw off his sheets, stood up on the bed, and began to stretch.
Hermione was mortified to realise that she was eye level with his private parts, and they were none too flaccid. She looked away, flushing furiously. Her gaze fell upon the large wooden wardrobe that stood near the door to the bathroom, and she opened its door. She seized the silk robe that hung from the door and paused, not wishing to get too close to him.
He noticed her actions and looked at her curiously. She tossed the robe toward him, and it landed at his feet. He looked at the garment uncomprehendingly and knelt to examine it. He smoothed the fabric with his fingertips and picked it up. He looked at her then with an intense look on his face, and, to her shock, began to rub the fabric against his erection. He emitted a guttural groan and wadded the fabric around his penis, making long downward strokes with his hand, eyes never leaving her face.
Hermione watched, both horrified and fascinated by the sight before her. She felt frozen to the floor, helpless to stop watching. She knew that becoming aroused by her half-mad former teacher had to be completely wrong, but his uninhibited self-pleasure left her unable to formulate a reason to stop it. The tip of his penis was visible protruding from the silk, and she was interested to note that his glans had turned darker as he increased the rhythm of his strokes.
His breaths were becoming raspier, and he allowed himself to fall backwards on his pillow, eyes still fixed on her, and he brought his other hand down to rub the smooth fabric against his scrotum. He squirmed against it, and she found herself stepping forward to see him more clearly. Now she could make out the tiny beads of perspiration on his forehead and on the skin beneath his eyes.
His eyelids drooped low, and he groaned again, fist pumping faster and faster. His skin was flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and he frantically tossed the robe away and seized himself with his bare hands, which moved so quickly that they blurred against the base of his shaft. She couldn't help herself. She reached out with her hand and touched the tip of his penis. The flesh felt like warm silk, but only had a moment to process this before his hips gave a jerk, he let out a shout to wake the dead, and seed streamed out of his penis in uneven arcs to spatter on his chest. Several viscous droplets landed on her hand.
She raised her hand to her face and succumbed to the irresistible urge to sniff the substance. It was alien and musky, but unaccountably reminded her of the forest. Severus had fallen back on the bed with his eyes closed, catching his breath. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few moments, and he propped himself on his elbows, looking dazed but satisfied. There was even a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.
Hermione suddenly felt quite awkward, a feeling that was compounded exponentially when he focused his gaze on her and said in an affronted voice, "Miss Granger?"
She stared at him flabbergasted for a moment, and then ran out the door as quickly as her legs could carry her.
LOREMIPSUMDOLORSITAMET
She nearly trampled Minerva as she tore down the hallway.
"Whatever is wrong, child?" asked Minerva, disentangling herself from her frantic former student.
"Professor Snape- I- he-" she stammered.
"Calm down," ordered the Headmistress severely. "Did he hurt you?"
Hermione shook her head, breathing hard and trying to quiet her racing heart.
"Did he threaten you in any way?"
Again, she shook her head, but she could feel tears of humiliation filling her eyes. "I need to go, Minerva, I need to get away."
"Hermione." The Headmistress's sharp tone made her snap to attention. "I insist that you tell me what happened." She led the younger woman into a classroom and locked the door. "Now, what put you in such a state?"
"Professor Snape-" she seemed unable to bring the words about.
"Severus," corrected the Headmistress firmly. "What did he do?"
"He woke up, ate some sandwiches and drank tea. Then he stretched and-" she trailed off again.
"-and what?" prompted Minerva.
"He masturbated," she whispered. The crude word seemed so far removed from the mesmerising spectacle that she had witnessed that the stricken look on her face was genuine.
The Headmistress's eyebrows rose, and she threw back her head and laughed. "Is that all?" she said.
"No."
That word brought the Headmistress up short. "Hermione," she said urgently, "you must tell me the rest. Did he touch you?"
Grateful for the Headmistress's phrasing, she answered in the negative. "But after he- I mean, afterwards, he said my name. I couldn't stay after that."
The Headmistress's brow furrowed. "I hate to ask this of you, my dear, but you must come with me now to see him. If he said your name, then he is returning to himself. We must reinforce it."
"Just like the centaurs," said Hermione unhappily. "Consistent interactions over time."
"Precisely."
"But do we have to go now?"
"We must. He may be in a dangerous state right now."
The Headmistress made her way down the hallway toward the Duchess of Burgundy's portrait.
"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Hermione to herself as she followed Minerva.
The older witch pressed her ear against the portrait. "It's all quiet," she said, drawing her wand. She spoke the password and the door swung open.
"MINERVA!" yelled a furious voice. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"
"He's definitely feeling better," said the Headmistress in a loud aside. Hermione would have laughed if she hadn't been completely terrified.
LOREMIPSUMDOLORSITAMET
The two women entered the room, where the furious man stood, wrapped in a sheet.
"You're standing on the floor!" cried Hermione in surprise before she could stop herself.
"Of course I'm standing on the floor, idiot girl," he growled. "Where else would I stand?"
A glorious image of him standing nude and erect on the bed sprang into her mind, and Hermione looked away, blushing.
"Severus, it's good to see you," said the Headmistress, putting deliberate stress on the name. Both women waited for him to shriek, but he only scowled.
"Cut the niceties, Minerva. Why am I here?"
"Because it's your room," said the Headmistress, with an ill-concealed smile.
"Blast it, woman, if you're going to torture me, do me the courtesy of chaining me to the wall and using pointed objects. Your feeble attempts at humour are inhumane."
"We're not trying to torture you, Severus," said the Headmistress, "it is merely a pleasant side effect. We're here to ask for your aid."
He narrowed his eyes. "What sort of aid?"
"We need you to testify against Lucius Malfoy," said Hermione. "You're the only one who can."
"Your negotiating skills could use some work," commented Severus. "It's generally a bad idea to let someone know he holds all the cards."
Hermione frowned. Negotiating with centaurs consisted of having thick skin and a penchant for brutal honesty. Snape was indeed a horse of a different colour.
"Besides," Severus continued in a haughty voice, "your precious Potter has no doubt told you of my role in the Order. I cannot be expected to testify against Malfoy as long as the Dark Lord is living. Now, Minerva, I believe you were asking me for a favour before the know-it-all interrupted?"
The two women exchanged glances.
"Severus, if you will pardon the foolish question," began the Headmistress delicately, "can you kindly tell me today's date?"
"Certainly," he growled, "it is-" he broke off for a moment and looked at his surroundings, taking in the winter scene clearly visible through a crack in the curtains, the livid scar that marred the Headmistress's face, and finally Hermione, who was not looking at him with her usual mix of deference and fear.
"I haven't the slightest idea," he said at last.
He wrapped the sheet tightly around himself and stalked into the bathroom. The women followed and found him standing in front of the mirror, staring at his face. The sheet had fallen, exposing his protruding ribs.
He raised a shaking hand to his face, tips ghosting over his messy beard and furrowed brow, and finally running a hand through his shorter hair, which, Hermione noted with satisfaction, flattered his face in a way longer hair never had. However, Severus didn't seem the least interested in whether or not his haircut was flattering. His face had gone a shade paler than his customary pallor.
"Perhaps you'd better sit down," suggested Hermione.
It was a sign of how shaken he was that he made no snide remarks as he complied with her request. Hermione cast a warming charm on the teapot and poured him a cup.
"How long have I been away?" he asked the Headmistress.
"By our reckoning, three years."
"Of course, we'll need to know the last thing you remember in order to give you a better idea how much time has passed for you," added Hermione.
He rounded on her. "The most helpful thing you can do for me, Miss Granger, is to remove yourself from my presence."
"Hermione is the one who found you, Severus," said Minerva, "and I am certain that you will find her perspective to be useful."
The look that Severus gave his former colleague left no doubt of his opinion on the subject.
"It's all right, Minerva, I'll leave," said Hermione, anxious to escape. "There is much to tell, and I'm sure Severus would be more comfortable if you were the one to tell him."
The man in question stiffened. "Miss Granger, who granted you permission to address your teachers with such insolent familiarity?"
"I did," said Minerva. "Now, if you've finished berating my friend for an error of courtesy I made, we can begin. Unless you would prefer to have an opportunity to put on some clothing first?"
Severus looked at her in astonishment, but managed to refrain from any unsolicited comments. "I will dress, Minerva. I will meet you in your office in twenty minutes."
The headmistress met Hermione's eye and they came to an unspoken agreement.
"I don't think that's wise, Severus," Minerva said. She continued through Severus's frown. "You may not realise this, but you are in a very fragile state at present. We have some very serious things to tell you about recent years, and we are unsure of how this will affect you. For the time being, we cannot allow you to leave this room. When you are prepared to speak with me, please ask Toddy, my house-elf, to fetch me."
Severus's voice was dangerously soft. "On whose authority do you dare confine me?"
"My own," said Minerva. "All will be made clear to you if you can bring yourself to trust me for the time it takes you to put on your robes. Please."
Severus's face was suddenly devoid of any discernable emotion. Hermione doubted the best Legilimens in the world could read his thoughts.
"You may go," he said at length. "I will send the elf for you."
"Thank you, Severus," said the Headmistress.
The two women left his chambers, shutting the door firmly behind them. Minerva squeezed Hermione's arm.
"Congratulations, my dear! You are to be commended!"
Hermione frowned. "Why?"
"Because it's clear that in spite of what he's been through, Severus is still there. No matter how much there is in the way, you've managed, for a few minutes at least, to bring him back. Now, I believe a bit of celebration is in order. Severus is fastidious enough with his personal appearance that I'm sure we won't hear from him for at least half an hour. Thirty minutes is enough time to put a substantial dent in a Christmas Eve pudding, don't you think?"
"Shouldn't we have supper first?"
"Nonsense. Pomona is watching over the little blighters in the Great Hall, and Christmas Eve comes but once a year, after all."
Hermione followed after the Headmistress, unable to articulate her misgivings.