The next day, Saturday, Snape was taken to his room on floating stretchers. The potions master had insisted for the operation to take place early enough for no student to spot thim in this state, which meant just before 8 o'clock, as it wasn't a week day. Being a proud man, he couldn't bear the thought of the children he had worked so hard on scaring seing him so weak; it would melt the myth about him being barely human completely.
Hermione walked beside him the whole while, resisting the temptation of taking his hand. She was the one using wingardium leviosa on the stretchers and found it harder than usual concentrating on the spell, for a million questions sprouted all at once in her mind: where would she sleep? How will Snape act with her? Will they end up having a friendly relationship? Or more?
She usually slept in a small room hidden behind a tapestry old tapestry featuring the four Hogwarts founders in the hospital wing. She felt completely OK about it, even though it didn't have anything special about it. The furniture was quite formal, the walls painted in white and the only decoration was a painting of several pretty women wearing white dresses standing by a riverbank. She wouldn't mind leaving it at all; the women of the painting were starting to nag her, anyway.
Professor MacGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were following close behind. They didn't talk during their small journey to the dungeons; Professor Snape was laying inert on the stretchers, his slightly opened eyes out of focuse. As predicted by Madame Pomfrey, going back to his quarters was a tiring affair for the potions master.
They arrived in front of a tapestry of a huge silver serpent on an emerauld background; the words Magistrus cupidi were embroided in silver thread above the snake's head.
Dumbledore walked past Hermione and whispered the words Emerauld orbs. The snake on the tapestry slythered to the bottom edge, hissing; a large hole appeared, just two feet over the ground. Dumbledore walked to the side to let Hermione and Snape enter first, followed by MacGonagall. Hermione gasped.
The room had no paintings. A beautiful forest green carpet was covering most of the living room floor. A black couch was set in front of a fireplace which mantelpiece was made of black marble on which were graved two large snakes. In a corner was a large ebony elaborate desk. The walls were covered in books, most leather-bond, of every size and shape.
They finally arrived to Snape's bedroom. The room was midnight blue, and a great tapestry with a huge silver 'S' covered one of the walls. Beside it was an enormous wooden cupboard decorated with two large ´S' and silver handles. A marble matlepiece which looked very much like the one in the living room stood a few feet behind a large four poster bed with green silver ebroided hangings and bed covers. Beside the bed was a large ebony night table with graved does on the side. A forged metal lamp laid upon it.
Hermione hurried to levitate Snape off the stretchers and into his bed while MacGonagall lit a fire; the chill in the room was enough to make the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand on its end.
Snape was asleep and very pale. Hermione reluctantly followed Dumbledore, who insisted upon showing her her new room. It was slightly larger than her former one, decorated in crimson and gold (because, as said MacGonagall, it would be relieving to escape all this Slytherin background once in a while), with a large four poster bed. Her trunk had been settled before her bed. She felt relieved that there wasn't any painting of pesky pretty girls.
She came back to Snape's bedroom. Dumbledore gave her a nursing kit full of little potion bottles, also including a sthetoscope and the book Curing for the clueless: 101 charms for everday nursing. He and MacGonagall wished her luck and, with a last handshake, left her with her patient.
Snape laid inert on the bed. His breathing was regular, but his forehead felt cold. Hermione bent over the nursing kit for some Pepperup when she heard a sneaze that made the door rattle 

in its hinge.
´Uuugh...'Snape had woken up. His black eyes were rolling into their sockets; he looked groggy.
´Good morning, professor'. Snape turned his head towards the sound.
'Her...mi...oneee...' Wait... has he just called me by my surename?
It took Hermione a few seconds to come back to the present.
'Professor, what would you like for breakfast?'
´Can't...eat...'
´Professor, I'm afraid you caught a bad cold, no wonder, it's freezing down here.' He glared at her for criticizing his chambers. No use upsetting a patient. Think of something nice to tell him, quick!
´Uhm, I love your bedroom, nice furniture.' He raised his eyebrows, suspicious.
'Professor, I can't give you any medicine without you eating before'.
´Fine with that', he muttered.
'Professor, don't play that game with me.'
'You take life for a game, now, Miss Granger? How very optimistic of you.'So it was back to Miss Granger now, was it? Fine.
'Professor, don't try my patience. Either you eat something now, or I stun you right away and put you on perfusion. Your choice.'
Snape looked as furious as his state would permit it.
´How dare you-'
'How dare you imagine you're unloved!' Hermione was on the verge of tears. ´Did you see how Professor MacGonagall cried-'
'Since when did I mention living for the other's sake?' his voice was hoarse, angry. ´All my life's been dedicated to the others, never to me, who'd care if-'
´Didn't you listen to-'
´You've got a lot to learn, Miss Granger. There are things you can understand just by experience, which you still lack of, I'm sorry to say. Minerva Lionheart only feels pitty for me. Poor Severus, why did it have to end like this? I can't live out of pitty, Miss Granger. Not anymore.' Snape's eyes were colder than ever, and nearly made Hermione recoil.
´Don't you think that the people around you feel something else for you than pitty?'
´You mean hatred?'
´You know what I mean.' Hermione was getting exasperated. I'll leave you ten seconds, Snape, and then it's the perf'.
´Breakfast cereals and fruit juice.'
´Pardon?' said Hermione stupidly.
´I believe you asked me a while ago what I wanted to eat. Good gods, Granger, if I knew you had such a short term memory, I'd be quite afraid for myself.' Hermione giggled.
'Cereales and juice it is, Professor'; she walked to the fireplace to leave an order to the kitchens, asking for two servings, having not eaten breakfast.
In next to no time, a house elf named Wizzles apparated in the room with a loud crack, balancing a large tray with two bowls and two glasses of orange juice. Hermione hurried to help it, taking the tray from her with a smile.
She placed the tray on the night table and handed his bowl to Snape. He reached for it, his hands shaking, and bearly managed to fed himself to a spoonful of cereales.
´Professor, would you like some help?' Hermione tried to be as diplomatic as she could. It didn't stop Snape from snearing at her.
´Really, Miss Granger, I was under the impression of disposing of all my facult-'
´Whoops...' Snape's grasp on the spoon had lessened, so that it splashed back into the bowl. Hermione hastedly cast a cleaning spell and took the spoon from Snape without asking for his 

permission. She filled it and point it at Snape's mouth. He didn't open up. She brought the spoon closer, closer still. Snape refused to open his mouth. Hermione sighed. She didn't wan't to have to come to this, but he left him no choice.
'Come on, Sevy, open for the plane to land, viuu!Aaaaahh!!', she said in a sing-song voice. Snape stared blankly at her.
´Miss Granger, stop this-' Hermione took her chance and shove the spoon into Snape's mouth; he was taken by surprise and swallowed at once. He choked and coughed, and when he finally regained composure, grumbled sourly:
´Alright, Miss Granger, I'll let you feed me, Goddammit, but I beg you to stop that idiotic routine of yours.' Hermione smiled. For a moment she felt like she had scared Snape, something she considered like a personnal achievement.
Hermione fed Snape until he couldn't eat more (which ment half a bowl) and convinced him to finish his glass of juice before she could at last give him his Pepperup. After that, he fell immediately to sleep, all the morning's action having tired him quite a lot. Hermione took profit of the moment by having her own breakfast. When she had eaten the last bite and drained her glass, she returned to her musings about Snape. She thought about the kiss, and felt disapointed he hadn't talked once about it while he was awake. Maybe he doesn't remember...
Meanwhile, Snape replayed in his dreams the romantic scene Hermione and he had shared. It seemed to have happened so long ago, years from now... He knew the young lady had feelings for him, and that he wasn't indifferent to her. But how would she react if a man who could be her father expressed his... was it love? Snape shook himself inwardly; no, no, no, it could not do to call this love, for it was, for the moment, only pure desire...Animal magnetism...Yes, he was just responding to her call because of her good looks, and perhaps a little more...
It wouldn't do.
Not him.
Not now.
Never.
But why? Was he refusing his key to happiness?

Severus Snape tossed and turned in his bed. Hermione came beside him and held his hand. He felt so weak, physically and mentally speaking, but yet so strong at her touch...

This was going to be difficult. Moreover, the way things were going with Hermione, he would have to mention...Sooner or later...

Later.
What she didn't know couldn't harm her. He'll see how things turn out, then he'll have a choice, wether to tell Hermione or not.

My last choice.