AN: Wow! I am super pleased with the lovely response I received to the first chapter of this story. Funny how little things like an alert in your inbox just makes a person's day! Thanks so much for the kind words. As always, enjoy and REVIEW! Pretty please? Even if it's just an exclamation point or a smiley face…that would do!

Disclaier: Must I really reiterate? Not mine. No money. Me Tarzan. You Jane. Etc.

SS

The Reluctant Invalid Chapter 2:

"There is one consolation in being sick; and that is the possibility that you may recover to a better state than you ever were before." Henry David Thoreau

…..

Hermione tapped her fingers against her chin in a nervous habit that had plagued her since girlhood. Whenever she was nervous…or guilty, tap, tap, tappity, tap went the pads against her jawbone, often bringing on a rathe annoying headache. But this time, she was far too distracted to be worried about a simple headache.

She had spent large amounts of the past few years doing everything she possibly could to get Professor Snape to come out of his shell a bit. And she had to admit, the fact that he was decidedly ill had given her the perfect opportunity. In every event before this one, he'd responded with his usual, cold, indifference to her attentions. Curt nods when she would strategically bring up a Potions article she knew he'd been interested in. Cold stares when she (after a rather ill-advised conversation with Lavendar on flirting,)had batted her eyelashes and made a right fool of herself with too much make-up and perfume. And the worst reaction of all: no reaction. No response whatsoever when she had sent him the Christmas card last year, or the tin of biscuits that she knew he fancied. No evidence that spoke to the fact that he might feel anything for her too.

Earlier that day when she'd all but attacked him in his office for that unsuccessful massage treatment, she had thought that perhaps he would simply melt under her touch. But to no avail. Hmmmm, perhaps she was going to have to be even more Slytherin in her approaches. Removing her hand from her chin, then, Hermione slapped the offending digits down onto the table and she sighed aloud in her empty quarters, receiving only a muffled meow from Crookshanks as a response to her outburst.

"The man is simply impenetrable!" She cried to the bleary eyed feline who yawned and stretched languidly from his place before the fire and then closing both eyes once more. "Well, fine. You're not that interesting either," his mistress muttered as she rose to set the kettle on for tea. She sighed dramatically once more. "Well, Hermione, here's to another rousing evening of your book and a cup of tea. Maybe someday you'll decide to really go barmy and switch up your Rooibos to an Earl Grey."*

Just as she was about to plop onto the couch with her book, the sound of someone knocking softly at the door to her quarters caused her ears to perk up. Frowning, she cast a quick tempus charm and her eyebrows furrowed more severely when she noted that it was nearly midnight! Who could possibly be calling at such a late hour? Making sure she had her wand in hand, she moved to the doorway and opened it just enough so that she could peek through. When she saw the tall, haggard looking body on the other side of the doorway, she gasped aloud and threw the door open in surprise, all alarm forgotten at the sudden appearance of the very wizard that had been plaguing her thoughts.

"Severus! What a surprise," she said as she motioned for him to come in, suddenly very, very aware of the fact that she was wearing an old muggle t-shirt that had a Care Bear and rainbows on it and some sweatpants that had surely seen better days. She quickly ran a hand through her hair in vain, hoping that it looked at least halfway decent. She really hadn't been expecting company.

Severus, however, didn't appear to be paying attention to her appearance. In fact, she noted with concern, he didn't appear to be paying much attention to anything at all. He looked far worse than he had this morning when she had been so openly chastising him for being ill. His eyes were red rimmed and glassy, giving him a detached look and the skin on his nose was chapped raw. His mouth was open and he was breathing thickly through his teeth, and to top it off, he seemed to be shivering from head to toe.

"Oh my goodness! Come inside quickly sir!" Hermione exclaimed in alarm as she quickly ushered him (well, dragged him limply) into her sitting area. Severus groaned a bit at the sudden movement and Hermione thought for a moment he would topple right over had she not had an arm wrapped firmly around his waist. A rather firm and oh so warm waist…Merlin's kickers, Hermione, now is not the time to be thinking about Severus' firm or warm anything, she mentally chastised herself. Then she realized that the reason he felt so warm was that he was burning up! Finally getting him to make his way to the couch in a relatively even manner, she let go and watched half amused, half concerned as Severus Snape, master of control and physical presence, plopped halfhazardly onto the pillows with a muffled "Ooof" and a sneeze.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and he looked up at her wanly through his fever hazy eyes. With a sickening snort and a rather indelicate hack, he listlessly raised a hand towards her and pointed a long, pale finger at her person.

"I thingk I bight be ill," his hoarse voice trailed off into a coughing fit and Hermione rolled her eyes at the man before her.

"You don't say," she exclaimed sarcastically, summoning a stack of blankets and then tucking them in around his shivering body. He was shaking so violently now that his teeth were chattering audibly. "You know, Severus, I never would have guessed." Hermione noticed that he was too weak to even argue with her usage of his first name. "Now you wait right here and I'm going to grab some things from my medicine cabinet. I'll only be a minute, so stay put!"

After her quick departure from his side, Severus rolled his eyes weakly. "It's not like I'b in a state to go anywhere…" he muttered lamely, but noticing how lovely and cool the pillows were against his aching neck and back, he snuggled himself deeper into Hermione Granger's sofa.

Hermione returned and the sight she was met with was one that she thought she'd like to take a picture of had she owned a camera. Severus Snape was lying prostrate on her sofa, one leg dangling over the edge that was far to short for his long, lithe frame, blankets pulled up around him like a cocoon, mouth open, and a tiny bit of drool sliding out of the corner of his slack lips. She sighed and moved closer, placing the myriad of vials, bottles, and jars on the coffee table. Oh…how she hated to wake him…but if he was ever going to begin to recuperate…

"Severus…" her voice chimed in his ear, and she thought he hadn't heard her, dead to the world as he was. Just as she was getting ready to nudge him a bit, she noticed two glossy black eyes staring up at her, and his hand came down behind her head and pressed her lips to his in a kiss.

TBC….

HIT THAT BUTTON! Please? It is really in your best interest to review, you know. Since I'm leaving you with such a wicked cliffy!

SS

*Rooibos and Earl Grey are two kinds of tea