Hermione sat down on the edge of her bed. She had experienced a tiresome but acceptable day. The beginning had been terrible, yes, but once Snape had regained some of his strength and Ron had showed up things had gotten much better. Ron and Harry were leaving for Bulgaria that evening because of some sort of delay with the Ministry of Magic, and Ron had come to say goodbye once more before he left.
Ron had said that he was starting to get jealous of "That old bat of the dungeons," because Hermione was with him so much. Hermione had managed a hoarse laugh and a teasing, "You, jealous of Snape?" but had felt a strange twinge of guilt when he said it. Was the future she had chosen for herself pulling her away from Ron? She had then said, more to reassure herself that him, "Oh, don't be ridiculous," and then pulled him into a deep kiss to seal her words.
And then all had been well and she'd forgotten anything about ever doubting her and Ron's relationship. She was sure it would survive this point in their lives, when they were sort of going their separate ways to begin their new lives after the war. Her job at Hogwarts wasn't definitive and she could leave at the end of the school year if she wanted. Ron, she was sure, would be an auror the rest of his life. But that wasn't all that bad. It left her with time for herself and plenty of freedom to pursue the career of her choice. She had questioned whether it would be difficult to live apart from Ron for the majority of her time if they did indeed get married, but now that was far from her mind.
She decided that it wasn't yet late enough to go to bed and took a bath instead. She soaked in the water, letting her thoughts settle to a peaceful nothingness and focusing on the pleasure of the hot, bubbling liquid embracing her and the wisps of steam rising upwards. The steam filled the room and floated in swirling patterns that crossed the ceiling and painted the air with a silver glow. Hermione made a game of finding recognizable shapes in the patterns around her and thought she caught the fleeting image of a doe bounding through the spiraling steam above her. And then the doe jumped from the rest of the steam, parting away from it and proving itself to be something different. Hermione gazed at it, transfixed; her imagination was running away with her for sure. Perhaps she was falling asleep in the bathtub?
Then the doe landed on the floor and walked over to the edge of the bathtub. It looked at her expectantly and turned and began walking through the closed door. With one last leap, it vanished. Realizing that the strange animal was actually not steam from her bath, Hermione came back to her senses and got out of the tub, drying herself and hurriedly pulling on her clothes before running out to her bedroom, where the doe stood waiting. She snatched her wand from the desk in the study and followed the doe out of her door and through the teachers' quarters and to Snape's door. She knocked hesitantly, remembering without difficulty the last two times she had knocked on this door and what had followed. "Professor?" When no answer came, she unlocked the door and stepped inside much quicker than she had that morning she looked around the room.
The fireplace had begun to die and dark shadows filled most of the professor's quarters. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary in the study, she stepped up into the bedroom and glanced around. It was even darker here. Rather uncomfortable with the bad light, she pointed her wand at the fire and it roared to life in the study. Then she pointed to the floating orbs on the ceiling and they glowed the honey-color that those in her bedroom did. Searching the bedroom with a few quick glances, she determined that Snape wasn't there. Turning with a mixture of dread and annoyance, she walked to the bathroom. The door was open and it was completely empty. But where was he? It didn't make sense that he would call her with a patronus if he didn't need help. And the doe had led her to his door and disappeared for good only after she had knocked the first time. Had she perhaps missed him somewhere? That would mean he had to be hurt very badly or unconscious because he hadn't replied when she entered.
She walked back through the bedroom, looking around again but sure that she had seen nothing before and nothing had changed since. The study had been filled with shadows when she looked through it, so she stepped back down and looked around the newly-lit room with careful eyes. She jumped and spun around when a shadowy place in the far corner let out a quiet moan. Realizing that it was in fact the professor, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, she rushed forward and knelt beside him. "Sir, what happened?"
She gently rolled him onto his back and stared down into his face, which looked even more pale and sallow than usual. He didn't answer, but opened his eyes and looked at her. They were bloodshot and he looked terrible. Hermione stood and used the same levitating charm she had in the shrieking shack, and the professor rose from the ground. She floated him to his bed and let him down carefully on the blankets, his head resting on the pillow. He was still looking at her, but looked either too weak or in too much pain to speak. Not knowing what to do, Hermione said, "Kreacher!"
The house elf appeared in Snape's room with a crack. "Go and get McGonagall," she said quietly. "Bring her hear. Please, Kreacher, hurry! Go!" and he disappeared a quickly as he'd come and with the same noise.
Turning back to the bed, Hermione leaned over the professor. "Please, I can't help you if I don't know what's happened and what's wrong."
He merely blinked once and then continued to stare. He was lying quite still on the bed, and then, with an obvious amount of effort, he turned his left arm over so that his hand was laying palm-up and his underarm was facing upwards. Hermione stared at his arm and then looked back to his face. Moving his arm was the only clue he seemed able to give her at the moment, so she reached down and began carefully unbuttoning his sleeve. When that was done she began to draw it back gently. For some odd reason, she found herself remembering that the dark mark was on his left arm and wondering if it was still there after the dark lord's death.
Finally, getting tired of fighting his sleeve, she drew her wand and muttered a simple spell that severed the fabric. She pulled it away from his forearm and stared. His dark mark was indeed still there, but it looked much different than it had during Voldemort's life. Then it had been black, the sign of a snake and a skull. Now it was the same sign, but it was grey in color and the flesh around it was inflamed.
The door opened and the headmistress hurried inside. She came to the bedside and looked from Snape to Hermione. Hermione pointed to his arm and said, "I think it's the dark mark. Something's happening with it and its hurting him."
The older witch nodded gravely and looked at Snape's face. She studied him for a moment and said, "Well, as it is obvious he has not spoken to you of what is wrong, I wonder if you," she looked back at him from Hermione, "could nod if I ask questions or shake your head?"
He simply stared at her. "Does it hurt more than your arm?" the headmistress asked.
He jerked his chin in a weak imitation of a nod.
"Everywhere?"
He nodded again.
"Severe pain?"
Again, a nod.
"Has it drained your energy and made you weak?"
He nodded once more.
"This could be very serious," McGonagall said when she was finished with her inquiry. "I will contact Kingsley and have him go to Azkaban to examine the death eaters there. Much of the diagnosis for this," she waved a hand at his arm, "depends on whether or not the others who bear the dark mark are being affected the same way." She turned to Hermione. "I trust you know as much as Madam Pomfrey when it comes to most medical ailments. You know of some kind of soothing treatment, I am sure?"
Hermione nodded. She followed the headmistress out into the teachers' lounge and said quietly, without closing the door behind her, "Professor, do you think phoenix tears would . . .?"
The headmistress frowned. "I am not sure," she said at last. "Phoenix tears take care of most—if not almost all—injuries, but this is the work of dark magic, and I fear that perhaps here, phoenix tears will be unable to aid in Severus' recovery. You may try them, though, if you so desire. They are yours to use, remember. I ask that you use them wisely, however. Please try not to waste them on things that cannot be helped or are of too little importance." And she turned and walked towards the door to the corridor outside. She stopped, though, and asked, "Miss Granger, I know you will need to hurry, but how did you know Severus was in trouble if you were not there when he collapsed? And are you alright? Your robes are lopsided and slightly damp in places, your hair is sopping wet and still dripping water by the looks of it, you are wearing no makeup, and you don't appear to have made yourself presentable in your haste.
Hermione blushed. "I told the Professor to send a patronus if he needed me. And I was in the bath when the patronus came into my quarters. I got out and was dressed and grabbed my wand before getting to the professor as soon as possible. I never even looked in the mirror."
The headmistress nodded, and a smile played across her lips. "I see," she said. "It appears that you are the best person I could have asked to look after Severus. Albus was right to want you to take the job of Severus' nurse; you are more than willing to help him in any way, as you proved before and after breakfast this morning. And you are so kind and patient and concerned; it's amazing. No one in their right mind could act in such a way towards Severus before now. And you do it because you care." Noticing the look of indifference and slight annoyance at her last comment that had crossed Hermione's face, the headmistress added, "Yes, Miss Granger, whether you realize it or not, you do care about Professor Snape and what happens to him. That's nothing to be ashamed of, though. In fact, you should be proud. If you hadn't cared enough to go back to the shrieking shack he wouldn't be alive today."
She walked away and left, not hearing Hermione's whispered, "He wouldn't be in pain today, you mean."
Hermione hurried to her room and took her beaded bag from the desk in the study, returning to Snape's room as quickly as she could. She closed the door behind her when she entered and stepped up into the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching into her bag, pulling out the phial of phoenix tears. She noticed that Snape's eyes widened slightly when she held the phial where he could see it and uncorked it carefully. He seemed to be able to identify what was inside the glass container at first glance and without a doubt.
Hermione tilted the phial over Snape's arm. She held her wand in her right hand and the phial in her left. She wasn't left handed but had the faintest suspicion that the dark mark would reject the phoenix tears and she might need to save the drops of precious liquid. She let one drop fall onto Snape's arm. He sucked in his breath with a hiss, as if in immense pain, and Hermione gasped when the dark mark did indeed reject the liquid, his skin producing steam where the tear had touched it and emitting a quiet hiss. "Wingardium Leviosa," she said quickly, and the tear rose off of Snape's arm. She caught it in the phial and put the cork back where it belonged. Then she returned the Tears to her bag and looked at Snape. He was obviously in the same amount of pain as he had been when she left him to speak to McGonagall, but the momentary effects of the tear on his flesh seemed to have gone.
Biting her bottom lip and sending her most sincere apologies for causing him pain through her eyes, she reached into her small bag again, this time pulling out a different container. She unscrewed the lid and set it aside on the bed. Then she dipped two fingers into the container and when she drew them back they were coated in a thick, cool white cream. Snape watched as she set her wand down and leaned on her right hand, reaching out with her left, which had the soothing cream. As gently as possible, she set her fingers on his forearm and spread the cream across his inflamed skin. She covered the dark mark completely with it, dipping her fingers several more times when she found that the cream didn't cause Snape pain and seemed to be relieving his hurt. His skin was hot, far too warm to the touch and obviously inflamed and unwell. Hermione was amazed that the man she had always thought of as cold, suddenly being so warm. Of course, this was an ailment, not his personality. He would always be cold. She reached for the container again.
But this time it seemed to have been a delayed reaction between the cream and the dark mark, for she saw him flinch suddenly and then he sucked in a deep breath again and closed his eyes, his whole body tensing. Snape actually let out a low, deep whimper. Hermione shoved her hand in her bag and fumbled around until she found what she had searched for and then pulled a small handkerchief from it. She grabbed her wand. "Engorgio!" and the square of fabric tripled in size. She hastily used another charm to moisten it and then wiped the cream from Snape's arm as quickly and gently as she could.
Snape relaxed and opened his eyes to look at her again as soon as the last of the cream was removed from his now flaming red arm. Hermione felt tears stinging her eyes. How was she supposed to help him when the only way she could find a solution would be to see what hurt him? "I'm sorry," she said, careful not to let the extra liquid in her eyes spill over. No, she would not cry, especially now, when he was the one in pain and she was just frustrated. He could most definitely see the tears in her eyes, but he did not acknowledge them as she wished he would. For the first time she actually found herself wishing the potions master was strong enough to snarl some cruel remark and glare at her. "I'm sorry," she said again. She cleaned the rag, wondering why her mind hadn't moved faster and she hadn't remembered the simple incantation needed to vanish any substance. She could have relieved the professor of the cream much faster had she not been so flustered by the pain he was experiencing.
He watched her as she stood and ran out of his quarters, again closing his door behind her. She ran down the corridor, through halls and up staircases, remembering to skip the missing step on a certain one. She finally made it to the hospital wing, which had remained undamaged by the war. She ran to Madam Pomfrey's store of potions and healing items and found the potion she wanted, though she had feared her own success at finding it; what if Snape drank it and his body reacted to it as it had the other remedies for his ailment? How would she remove it from him then?
Worrying, she ran back down to the dungeon and was back at Snape's bedside more quickly than she would have thought possible in any other situation. Taking a deep breath, she uncorked the bottle she was holding. It was a healing potion, meant to be drunk by one who was experiencing pain in multiple places, most often interior places, and to sooth those places. Tipping the bottle slightly, Hermione brought it to Snape's lips. She let only a bit slide past his lips and then watched as he struggled to swallow. When he had, she grabbed her wand, squeezing it so hard her knuckles hurt as she waited to see whether or not he would react.
All at once, Snape was coughing and spluttering, spitting and looking like he was finding it very hard to breathe. Not knowing what she could do to stop what was happening, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and watched in horror. Then Snape coughed again. He retched. And the last two actions were repeated over and again until he appeared to have gotten the potion out of his system for good. He had sat up as he was coughing and retching and now fell back on his pillow, red in the face and covered in beads of sweat. Hermione cleaned the mess with a wave of her wand and dabbed his face with a damp cloth, not holding back her tears anymore. They fell freely from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She wiped them on her sleeve often, but not often enough, as several fell onto Snape's robes while she leaned over him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she said over and over again through her tears as she bathed his face with the cool cloth.
She gave him some water and held the cup to his lips as he was too weak to do it himself. He drank and looked at the cup as if asking for more. Hermione refilled it and let him drink until he left the cup half-full and stopped drinking. She set the cup on his bedside table and sat back on the very edge of the bed, watching his face. They had gone up to dinner earlier, and he had walked the whole way and back just as he would have a year before when he was perfectly healthy. No one could possibly have foreseen that he would collapse and be too weak even to lift a glass of water to his lips only hours later. Hermione glanced at the dark mark. It looked dark grey, as it had been earlier when she first saw it. It hadn't changed at all since then, though the skin around it had grown a more violent shade of red and Snape seemed to be in more pain than before.
Hermione didn't dare leave him and go back to her room for the night. She would have to stay and be there to give him water and watch over him throughout the night. Who knew when he might suddenly seize up with pain and need her assistance? She stood and took the chair from behind his desk in the study, taking it back to the bedside. Then an idea formed in her mind. If Snape was able to drink water without being pained by some freak reaction, then could it help his burning flesh? Hermione took a cloth from her bag and wetted it, then dabbed his arm and watched for a reaction. Nothing happened besides Snape's sigh of relief as the cold moisture took away his pain. Hermione dabbed cold water on his entire forearm, but then stopped because the rest of him was covered in his clothes. She dabbed water on the palm of his upturned hand and he seemed relieved by that. Wondering if he was experiencing a painful burning sensation all over his body, she gently turned his arm over and soothed the back of his forearm as well as the back of his hand and his fingers, and he seemed more relieved.
Hermione set the cloth on the bedside table and offered Snape the cup of water. He didn't want to drink so she set it back down and leaned back in her chair. She raised her wand to the orbs on the ceiling and dimmed the lights in the bedroom so Snape could sleep, causing the ones in the bathroom and the study to go out and making sure that the fire had begun to die. All she remembered after that was sitting down in the chair again, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was midnight, and then looked at Snape, who had closed his eyes and was completely still besides the slight rising and falling of his chest as he slept. Then she herself must had drifted off as well, because the next time she opened her eyes it was to the sound of Snape's door being opened.
Hermione sat up, blinking her eyes and gazing with bleary vision at the clock on the wall. It was now three in the morning. She looked at Snape, who was still sleeping. The headmistress stepped into the bedroom and looked pleased to see Hermione still at Snape's side. "I didn't think you would leave," she said with a grim smile. "I do believe it will be necessary for someone to stay here with him until we can figure out what's really wrong. Albus has even put in a word about this, but of course it's up to you whether you continue to nurse him or not." She noticed the cup of water and the cloth on the table and looked inquiringly at Hermione, who then relayed her series of experiments with solutions to Snape's ailment, holding back more tears as she spoke of her failure. "But he can drink water and I can use it to sooth him without causing him any pain," she finished at last.
The headmistress looked at Snape, regarding him in silence for a moment. Then she said, "Miss Granger, am I right to believe that you are quite willing to stay here and care for Severus?"
Hermione nodded.
"And am I correct in assuming that you would be willing to help him and relieve him of his pain, even if that would mean placing yourself in an awkward situation as a result of these circumstances?"
Hermione nodded without hesitation; she was Snape's caretaker and it was her job to help him no matter the cost to herself.
The headmistress then nodded and walked around Snape's bed so that she was standing on the opposite side than Hermione was sitting on. "Please assist me in removing his shirtwaist and shirt so that you can treat his skin with cool water as you did his arm."
Forcing herself into a mechanical, professional mode, Hermione was able to keep from blushing, and she stood and helped to do what McGonagall had asked.
Snape woke and opened his eyes as soon as they touched him, and he appeared, by the looks in his eyes, to be quite humiliated that he could do nothing about the two women undressing his torso. Hermione tried to keep her eyes on her hands, but they strayed up to meet his gaze more than once. He seemed to understand that this had not been her idea, and turned his glare to the headmistress, who glared right back and said with a scolding tone, "Severus, we're only trying to help. This will make you feel much better, I'm sure," just as they finished removing his clothes.
His whole body was rigid. It was obvious he liked being clothed much better than not, even if he was still wearing his dark trousers. Hermione watched in dismay as the headmistress turned to leave. "It is up to you now, Miss Granger. I must return to my office. Unless I am quite mistaken, Kingsley has just flooed in through my fireplace and is awaiting my arrival."
She was gone before Hermione could complain that this was outrageous. She drew her wand and wetted the cloth again, focusing too hard on the fabric as she did so. She did not want to have to look at the professor's body. It just seemed wrong in so many ways. She knew that it was not wrong, not as she was doing it. She was helping him, and as McGonagall had said, this situation had been forced by the unusual circumstances. Hermione sighed inwardly as she turned to face Snape with the cloth in her hand. There was no way she was going to be able to sooth his hurts and care for him without looking directly at his chest and stomach. She had caught a fleeting glimpse of them that morning, but had been just as displeased to look as she was now.
She reached out and brought the cloth down gently on the elbow of his left arm. She would start where she had left off. When she had finished his left arm, she dabbed his shoulder and then his collar bone before moving on to his right arm, trying to postpone the moment when she had to look at the rest of him. She would occasionally use her wand to wet the cloth again, and dread filled her when she realized she had just finished doing his right arm. She reached up and began dabbing his chest, starting on the left side and working to his right. As she had noticed earlier, he was in excellent shape for a man of thirty-seven, almost thirty-eight. And his skin wasn't yellow and sallow, it was just very pale and the lights in the rest of the school seemed to throw a strange coloring over it that was dishonest. He was so pale that Hermione found herself fascinated.
Just like his arm had been, the rest of him was extremely hot to the touch as well. She found it disconcerting that his skin should be so red around the dark mark and so pale on his stomach, yet still the exact same temperature in both places. All of the time she was bathing his burning skin, he was closing his eyes, and it was obvious that he was being relieved of his pain and soothed. When she finished she set the rag back on the bedside table once again and saw that he had opened his eyes. She offered the cup of water and he drank several cups before refusing any more.
McGonagall had brightened the lights a bit when she entered, and Hermione pointed her wand at them and glanced at Snape, who was already asleep again, before deciding to put them out completely. Darkness enveloped the room and Hermione leaned back in her chair, letting sleep overtake her with ease and slipping away from the fears and worries of the present.
Hey everyone! Alright I know that the last chapter took a while, and I'm sorry. I just found Snape to be a bit more difficult to write about in some ways because Hermione, being a woman and being new to much of what she is experiencing, notices a lot of details and has a lot on her mind and is just girlish, while Severus is used to life at Hogwarts and won't be taking in every detail of his quarters because he's seen them so many times before. And of course, his emotions aren't quite as elaborate as Hermione's because he's not a teenage girl/young woman. Thanks for sticking with me though and here is chapter 6! I had some fun writing it and I hope you like it! This one is a bit shorter than the last and I apologize but the next update will be rather soon, I promise, and it should be interesting! Thanks for reading and don't forget that no matter how short or long, all of your reviews are appreciated and I would love any advice or ideas you have when it comes to the improvement of my story! Thanks again! ~Taelr