A/N: Sorry for the late update. RL is getting in the way. But as you all so kindly keep reviewing, I keep dodging my work for a bit to update. :)
Chapter 24: A Warm Day?
A day had passed since Professor Snape had told Hermione about his mother. But she had not been able to think about anything but what he had said. Even when Mrs. Weasley had come to visit, she had been caught up in her own thoughts rather than what the kind lady was saying. Thankfully, nobody realised her falling from the Tower was anything more than an accident, except the students who suspected the involvement of some Slytherin.
On talking to Mrs. Frost and Mr. Mallard, Hermione had come to the conclusion that Professor Snape's mother was a Muggle and his father was a wizard, who had tormented his wife because of the upper hand that he had being with magic.
It was an obvious inference to draw—a Muggle wife who could not take a stand against her wizard husband, because he would have simply misled any Muggle authorities, and she would have had no reach to the wizarding authorities. But to think that despite being a witch, as powerful as Professor Snape had described her to be, she did not defend herself—or her son, as Mrs. Frost had told her, was absurd. It had been such a shock that she was afraid it had shown on her face while in conversation with the Professor.
Why would someone just resign to their fate like that? So much so that along with her self-respect, her magic was snatched away from her, too! Hermione could not come up with any plausible cause of that. One flick of Eileen's wand and the abusive Muggle would have never dared to lay a hand upon her and her son.
But Professor Snape had said that the lady had given up. She had accepted what her husband continuously implied—that the fault was in her magic. Eileen had wallowed in her guilt to the extent of losing her very essence, her magic. And then, her life. Clearly, she would have had no will to live.
Every time Hermione recalled Professor Snape's words, her stomach dropped. He had given nothing away in his tone. He had sounded callous. But nobody could come out of such a childhood unscathed. Mrs. Frost had told her that as a child, the Professor had been reclusive. He never expressed himself, even then.
'I told you so that you could analyse where the similarities lay.'
That statement would remain with her for long...
'Sometimes, I imagine how different her life would have been...'
It must have taken a great deal out of him to narrate such personal events of his life, as reserved as he was. Yet, he did. Because she needed to hear about it. Hermione commended him for it.
Hermione sighed. He did not inquire why she did what she had, like her Head of House had. He must have known why. He wanted to make sure that she would not do that again. Who could ever think that a person like Professor Snape could be capable of such empathy? After knowing him, or knowing about him at least, she could see an entirely different person under his garb of impassiveness.
But he protected his real self behind so many layers of disguise that one could never see him for who he was. Even Hermione couldn't, until watching his memories. She wondered if anyone else had ever made an attempt to find just 'Severus' behind the former Death Eater, Order spy, seemingly apathetic Professor Snape? She doubted.
UUUUUUU
That evening, Madam Pomfrey had allowed her to sit up. With some help from Karly, Hermione was able to sit leaning her weight against the headboard, cushioned with many pillows.
That was when Hermione realised that she could hardly move her legs, or her body in general from waist down. She had panicked. Other than dragging her legs along with her body, there was neither movement nor sensation there.
"You must have come across Paraplegia in your studies," Madam Pomfrey explained calmly.
"Paraplegia?" Hermione gapped. "But it's...it's not... I don't think it's reversible-"
"Had you been a Muggle, it was not reversible, no," the Medi-witch said. "But wizards and witches are immune to many illnesses and can recover from many ailments that a Muggle cannot."
Hermione swallowed. "So why can't I move my legs?"
"Your spinal cord was in a pretty bad shape. It will take take to heal."
"Bad shape?" She looked at the duvet that covered her from waist down.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Miss Granger," she placed her hand on Hermione's good arm, "You should be glad that you are a witch. Your magic saved you and will heal you more than any potions can. But it will take time."
"How bad is it?" She asked quietly.
"More than I alone could have healed," the Medi-witch replied.
Hermione knew Madam Pomfrey was a very capable Medi-witch. If she was confessing to not being able to heal something, it would have been the worst case she had come across. Not for the first time, she asked herself what she had been thinking—as a rhetorical question.
"I'm sorry..." She said softly.
"There is absolutely nothing for you to be apologising for," the lady said politely. "You hardly intended for it to happen."
And that was even worse because Hermione intended exactly for that to happen, more than that, in fact. "I...could have been more careful..."
"Fiddlesticks," the Medi-witch chided her lightly. "None of that now. I will not have you blaming yourself for something not in your hand."
But it was entirely in her hand. Hermione nodded reluctantly. She could not tell the Medi-witch the truth, ever. Not tell it to anyone who already didn't know.
"Professor Snape had the presence of mind to use the Phoenix Tears on you," the lady told her. "Merlin bless him for that."
"Phoenix Tears?" She mumbled. Phoenix Tears was a very precious and rare ingredient used to heal patients when not much else worked. She had read about it in depth. The Potions Master did indeed go an extra mile to save her. Again.
Hermione again looked at her legs. "Can I see?"
"If you must," Madam Pomfrey said, her hand removed from Hermione's arm. The lady drew the curtains shut around Hermione's bed and came to stand at the foot of the bed. "Go on."
Hermione did not know what to expect. She had not had a chance to observe the kind of injuries she had sustained except the more visible ones on her arm and face. She prayed for it to be curable—Madam Pomfrey had already assured her that no damage was permanent.
She was wearing the customary gown the Medi-witch made the patients wear—blue that came to the knees. Taking a calming breath, Hermione slowly removed the duvet from her legs.
And squeaked in fright.
A white bandage was draped around her right knee—the side of her body to have sustained the brunt of her fall. Her left knee had been scraped, of which only a scar was left.
Her right ankle and foot, too, were heavily bandaged in white. The only part that had not sustained injuries on that leg was her shin. The ankle of her left foot thankfully looked unharmed. She understood that all the bandaged parts had suffered grievous injuries.
Hermione slowly drew her gown up from her knees. Red scars of scraping of her skin stood on her otherwise pale skin, were scattered on the back of her lower thighs.
"You have also sustained multiple pelvic fractures, Miss Granger," the Medi-witch said quietly. "Another reason for your movement below the waist to be restricted. The damage on your spinal cord is not permanent, thank your own magic and Phoenix Tears administered to you for that. The paralysis will wear off as you are healed gradually. And by then, your fractures will also be mended."
"But we wizards heal way quicker than Muggles..." She said softly.
"Yes, you are right," the Medi-witch said. "And why is that?"
"Because our magic facilitates our healing," Hermione answered.
"But your magic also had to support you after the immense blood loss you had gone through," the lady explained calmly. "Your heart rate and pulse was dropping rapidly. Not to mention your head injury. Your magic healed all that it could, and prevented any kind of brain damage. But these injuries which are not life-threatening, are left for potions to look after."
Hermione swallowed. She looked up at the Medi-witch, she had to ask, "Will I ever be able to walk again? Without support?"
"Of course, child," her voice was soft, and that unnerved Hermione because she wanted the truth.
"No, Ma'am, I don't want to be placated," Hermione said in a steely tone. If she had brought it upon herself, she would very well face the truth. "Please, tell me the truth."
The Medi-witch sighed. "It is the truth, Miss Granger. You will walk again. But it will take you time, more than two months, even three to four until you can walk entirely without support." She covered her legs with the duvet again, then looked up, "But, yes, you will walk again."
She took Hermione by her good shoulder. "A Muggle would not have been so lucky, if survived at all."
And some days prior, Hermione had been blaming her magic for her miseries. Now she understood exactly how blessed she was. And how she had taken it for granted. Both—her magic and her body.
She nodded, looking at her lap. Madam Pomfrey left her shoulder and stepped back. "With some proper care and keeping some faith, you will be healed in no time."
Just then, Karly appeared with a pop. She was holding a tray with food.
"And of course, some good food," the Medi-witch added with a small, encouraging, smile. She took the tray from the house-elf and let it float over Hermione's lap. "Eat as much as you can. Don't force yourself."
She looked down at the bowl of light broth and a small bowl of boiled, green vegetables. Hermione had never been picky with food, anyway. She flashed a grateful smile to the elf who shied away with a joyful squeal.
"We can either charm your spoon to feed you or you can use your left hand," the Medi-witch offered.
"I'll use my left hand, I guess," Hermione quickly said, mortified at the idea of being spoon-fed, which brought some blood rushing to her face.
The Medi-witch chuckled. "Very well, then." She summoned two vials of potions and kept them on her bedside cabinet. "You will take these two vials after finishing the meal, and then rest. I don't want to come back and find you studying."
Hermione knew it was already past curfew and the Medi-witch was not going to visit again until morning, if she was not called. Hermione could read to her leisure before sleeping. So she nodded in affirmation.
Looking satisfied, Madam
Pomfrey left, leaving Karly in charge.
Hermione unfolded the serviette in her lap before taking the spoon in her left hand with some discomfort. She looked at Karly who was sitting in her usual corner.
"Did you eat, Karly?"
The house-elf jumped to her feet, gawking at Hermione. "Young Miss asks Karly?"
Hermione chuckled. "Who else goes by Karly here?" When the elf started looking around, taking Hermione's words for a question. Hermione shook her head. "Yes, I'm asking you. Did you eat?"
The house-elf started wringing her hands. "Yes, Miss. Karly eats. In the kitchen."
"That's good," Hermione smiled and started on her food.
The broth was light and slightly salty with small bits of crunchy vegetables. The boiled vegetables were bland to the taste, but fresh. Hermione ate without complaint. She wondered how Ron would have reacted had he been given that food to eat, and snickered to herself. Ron's face would have gone red with annoyance.
It felt better to be able to think about things other than where her mind had been wallowing since returning to Hogwarts. She didn't know it would take a near death experience. But it was not the fall that had helped her, it was seeing her parents. And then, what Professor Snape had told her.
As her friends and others had came to see her throughout the day, Hermione was coming to realise how much she had neglected all the support she had, while she kept craving for those she couldn't have. Perhaps, you just need a little light from within to find all those hands being offered to help.
When she had eaten all the she could, which was only a quarter of the broth and even lesser of the vegetables, the tiny elf vanished the tray.
"Should Karly helps Miss down?" She offered.
"No, thank you, Karly," Hermione looked at her book-bag. Harry had delivered her all the class notes she had missed. "Can you give me that?"
The elf put the bag on Hermione's bed. With her good hand, she opened the flap and chose her Charms textbook and Harry's notes to revise. She already had a week worth of classes to revise, without actually taking the classes. She was sure her Professors would help her if she got stuck anywhere, but she did not know when Madam Pomfrey would release her to start attending classes in person. She set the books and notes in her lap comfortable. She could not write due to her arm being in the sling, but she could read the text. The practicals, too, would have to wait until she had the sling off...and got her wand back.
Last night, she did not ask Professor Snape to return her wand. In all honesty, had someone else done what she had, she would also have confiscated the wand the first thing. After hearing of the account of her injuries from Madam Pomfrey, she knew exactly how her Professors—those who knew the truth—would be feeling.
They would take their time to acknowledge that she would not take such a step again.
'We want you to live, Love...' Her Mum's voice reminded her.
UUUUUU
Hermione had finished the Charms notes and had moved onto Potions, when Professor Snape entered the Hospital Wing.
She knew it was him, despite the curtains that surrounded her bed, because of his gait. She had somehow memorised how his boots clicked on the floor when he walked.
Also, she knew he would come—because of the bond... It was obvious he would come after curfew to avoid questions. The Head of Slytherin coming to visit a Gryffindor in the Infirmary would rise a slew of uncomfortable questions.
He quietly walked to the curtains. Hermione could see his shadow on the green barrier. "Miss Granger?"
"Please, come in, Sir," she called.
He slid the curtains aside and stepped in. Hermione noted with satisfaction that he did not draw them close again. She felt that would be better. Cooped up in a small, enclosed space together would have been discomfiting.
"Good evening, Sir," she greeted. After months of blatantly insulting him, the show of respect made Hermione feel extremely pretentious, at times. But that respect came naturally after what she had come to know, now.
He nodded, and dragged the armchair to sit in.
The house-elf jumped to stand up. She bowed, and Hermione wondered if that was a gesture of greeting to the Professor. But then, she suddenly said, "Karly will go." Before any of them could respond, the house-elf was gone with a pop.
Professor was frowning, just as puzzled as her at Karly's sudden exit. "Over enthusiastic house-elf," he muttered under his breath.
"She is nothing in comparison to Dobby," Hermione said without any preamble. When he looked at her questioningly, she explained, "Dobby was Lucius Malfoy's house-elf. Harry had freed him in our Second year."
He snorted, looking amused. "Have you three made it the sole mission of your life to free any house-elf who dares to cross your path?"
"Not all of us. Ron is still averse to the idea," she said, a little amused herself that Professor Snape had just cracked a joke—or had attempted to, for his jokes were never without a touch of derision. "Dobby actually wanted to be free, so Harry tricked Mr. Malfoy to offer him clothes."
"So you do realise that some house-elves do not want to be free," he said silkily.
"Well... I know that—now," she said sheepishly. "But I still think that if the house-elves are offered a better life, or at least are counselled well from the start, they might not just want to serve others, but do something for themselves."
"They serve others for their own satisfaction," he countered.
"Because it has been ingrained in them," she reasoned. "Most importantly, a wizard can attend to all his needs just with a wave of the wand. Yet, they have enslaved an entire species to work for them—without payment. Some of them don't even appreciate their house-elves for their services."
"Is that your Muggle upbringing speaking, Miss Granger?" He said smoothly.
"Maybe," she lightly shrugged. "But I cannot understand how one could take someone under servitude, without as much as appreciating their efforts."
He leaned back in his chair, "So what would you have the house-elves do, instead, if it were in your power to change the course of the world?"
"I would have them study and be trained, like we are," she said simply. "House-elves' magic is different from ours. But nobody has actually studied it at length. We still don't know what they are capable of with the kind of power they have."
"But bringing such revolutions is not a piece of cake," he said cynically. "Especially a society like the Wizarding World, where they are so afraid of change that we still write with quills. These revolutions are next to impossible."
"So was the case with the Goblins until the Riots happened," she countered. "And today, the entire economy of the Wizarding World would shutdown, if not for the Goblins."
"An apropos example," he granted. "But you have overlooked the very basic difference here."
"A basic difference?" She asked.
"Think," he said with a smirk.
She bit her lip in concentration, the left side now, after continuously worrying the bruised side for a day.
"I get it," she said. "The Goblin Riots happened because the Goblins, themselves, fought for the changed role in the society. But the house-elves are satisfied with the way they are treated."
"Correct." He leaned forward. "The Goblins revolted. But the house-elves will not."
"Until they are counselled into revolting, by a leader who understands the importance of freedom," she said.
"And is willing to pay the price for freedom, too," he added. "It seldom happens that the one to call for a revolution actually gets a taste of what they were fighting for."
"But that doesn't stop us from fighting," she said.
"Yes," he conceded. "We are all fighting against the Dark Lord. But not all will be fortunate enough to see our victory."
"Cynical, but true," she sighed softly. They had already lost many and the war hadn't even begun properly. Not to mention all those who lost their lives in the First War, including Harry's parents.
"But you are correct," he said after a pause, "That does not prevent us from fighting."
From there, their conversation mostly consisted of more specifics of the Goblin Riots. Of course, the Professor had way more knowledge than the History books could ever provide.
Hermione took the opportunity with greed and asked all that she wanted to. Surprisingly, he did not even seem annoyed with her 'incessant questioning', like he did in class. That, Hermione realised, would also have been a layer in his character—to appear so unapproachable that nobody dared to.
Life as a spy demanded distancing oneself from prying eyes and curious ears.
Later, he gave Hermione her wand long enough to satisfy the bond by cleaning the handkerchief and photo frame. After that, she herself returned her wand to him. She had hardly any use of it, anyway, until her right hand was out of the sling. It was very hard to work with her left with the wand.
Before leaving, he called for house-elf, and asked her to stay. Hermione could barely stop herself from laughing when he said to the elf addressed the elf.
"Would you mind staying with Miss Granger, Karly. I assure you, your efforts will be immensely appreciated."Karly looked horrified, while he smirked at Hermione, and left.
Professor Snape had cracked multiple jokes in a day—it must be a warm day in the dungeons, she giggled.
UUUUUUU
Severus despised staff meetings—was an understatement. The reality was—Severus never attended staff meetings.
But sometimes, Albus Dumbledore, who absolutely adored the company of his staff on odd days, insisted Severus to attend. He did not insist with orders and reprimands, but with nauseatingly of his saccharine and persuasive words.
That Tuesday, the Headmaster had called the meeting right after the classes got over. Severus did try to dodge, but when he reached the safety of the dungeons, proud of himself for his stealth, the Headmaster was waiting right outside Severus' office.
What followed was an argument.
Currently, a very reluctant and annoyed Severus was sitting in the room full of his colleagues, while the old man led the meeting.
Minerva had half-heartedly tried to hide a smirk when Severus had entered along with Albus. He had been even more dismayed on noting that the entire staff was present, along with Madam Pince, Hooch and Poppy. Even Trelawney, who rarely left her tower, for the good of all, sat staring into space. The only member missing was Filch and his feline—small mercies.
He didn't bother to nod at anyone for greeting, and sat beside Minerva, though glaring at her smirking face, and decided that he had taken that seat because it was in the corner. He was the last member to join so the meeting commenced right after.
"So good to see every one of you here, together," Albus beamed.
Severus resisted his urge to roll his eyes.
Initially, Albus wasted their time by blabbering about the curriculum and lesson plans.
Then, Hooch expressed some concerns regarding the condition of school brooms, due to which the first years are facing difficulty in learning to fly. The solution to which was diverting extra funds into the sports department of the school. Albus talked blithely about the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for a bit.
Pince expressed her concern about the Library books being of older editions and asked permission to order new editions by the end of term.
It was all tedious business in Severus' opinion. Why was he supposed to care if the lot of dunderheads flew on spindly brooms or read from archaic copies? Until and unless the students paid attention in his class, he couldn't care less. He had never liked teaching and it was not a secret to his employer or his colleagues. As long as the students were protected against the Death Eaters and did not end up killing one another in his lessons, he did not even pretend to be interested in the matter.
Then, came the topic of the Hogsmeade escorts for the term.
"Would anyone like to volunteer?" Albus offered.
Severus kept his arms firmly folded to his chest. He glanced at Minerva who was suddenly showing too much interest in the flooring.
"I'll love'ta, Sir," Hagrid volunteered. "But I can't leave ma pumpkin patch fir long. Next'erm?"
"Of course, I understand, Hagrid," Albus said politely. "Severus-"
Severus scowled darkly before raising a challengingly eyebrow. "...has too much on his plate, without having to escort that wayward lot around the village." He finished with a sneer. The staff was aware that he was still responsible to brew for the Hospital Wing, despite Slughorn teaching Potions.
Beside him, Minerva coughed, covering her amusement.
"Very well," Albus conceded.
"I will go, Albus," Slughorn volunteered. "It's been years since I last went to Hogsmeade with the students."
"That would be excellent," Albus smiled widely. "We need two more escorts."
Severus watched to
"I would, in fact, like to suggest, we ban Hogsmeade weekends altogether, owing to the increase in the Death Eater activities," Severus advised.
"Oh, come now, Severus," the old man said, "We need some respite from times like these."
And the Dark Lord would be just as obliging. He ceased to voice his words.
"Septima, would you like to be the escort for the term?" Albus asked.
A reluctant Vector affirmed to the request. That's what happens to over-considerate fools.
After some more convincing, finally Filius, too, agreed. With the three escorts chosen, that topic came to a rest.
"Albus," Filius spoke, "I have sufficiently warded the Astronomy Tower as you had asked."
Albus had finally taken a step to apply some safety measures on the Tower. Severus could not help but wish they had reached that decision prior to the recent events.
"Excellent, Filius!" Albus said. "I hope that would not disrupt your classes, Aurora."
"Of course, not, Albus," Sinistra said. "Safety of the students is more important, after all."
"Oh, how is Miss Granger doing?" Pomona asked, looking from Albus to Poppy.
"Recovering, I can say," Poppy replied.
"When can she join classes?" Filius asked.
"Not before Monday, in any case," the Medi-witch replied. "She would have to be in a Charmed-Chair."
"Poor girl," Sinistra mumbled. "First her parents' demise, then this..."
"Trouble!" Trelawney shrieked, looking at the ceiling blankly. Severus huffed irritably at the fraud. "I can see trouble for the lass. Death is looming over her, and not every time will she be saved! She will be gone by the end of this year-"
"Sybill!" Minerva cut her short.
"Death and doom," Trelawney repeated, gesturing wildly with her hands. "The lass is in grave-"
"Sybill, please," Albus said politely, but with an authority that shut her inane blabbering.
"What a bright girl she was," Slughorn shook his head. ;
"She is, Horace," Minerva said sharply.
"Yes, yes, don't take me wrong," Slughorn said sheepishly. "What I mean is...she will have problems now..."
"Care to elaborate yourself?" Minerva looked peeved.
"Just that...you know," he looked at the others in the room, "We did hear something of a...brain damage."
"And who, might I ask, is the carrier of such piffle?" Severus raised his brow.
Silence fell. Severus immediately regretted participating in the conversation. It was so out of his character to defend any student except his Slytherins, much less a Gryffindor and Harry Potter's friend.
"I believe," Minerva said, "Only Poppy and Severus can confirm anything of Miss Granger's condition, because only they are looking into the case." Minerva's words had satisfied the others.
"Miss Granger has not sustained any brain damage, by Merlin's grace," Poppy clarified. "But there are some prominent injuries that would require her to be confined to a Charmed-Chair for a while." She looked at Horace pointedly, "Only for a while."
"Oh, that's...great news," Slughorn smiled uncomfortably.
"Tha'k Merlin!" Hagrid had a handkerchief the size of a doormat patting his teary eyes. "She's such a good girl..."
"Tell me if I can help with the Chair, Poppy," Filius offered. "I would like to make it as favourable as I can for Miss Granger."
"Something so she could easily sit by a desk, I think," Pince suggested. "Even the Library tables, considering how she spends more than half a year there."
"Minerva," Pomona said earnestly, "Tell her not to worry about the classes that she is missing. We will help her to cope up when she can rejoin us."
"If she hasn't already read through them, that is," Vector laughed. "She didn't take Arithmancy further. I miss some actual brains in class."
"She would be heartened to know of your support," Minerva said, barely able to stifle a proud smile that one of hers was quite so liked by the staff.
"Oh, she does deserve it," Pomona said with a sad smile. "I hope she recovers soon."
"What about Defence, Severus?" Slughorn pointed out. "How will she take your classes without...standing?"
Severus frowned. "Sitting, I should think." That drew a snort from Minerva and Poppy. "She will learn." Then he amended, "She will have to learn."
Severus was not surprised to know that Granger was a student the other Professors favoured. It would help her in the coming weeks. But not without difficulties from the likes of Slughorn. And his own Slytherins. He, himself, would have to be nasty towards her condition to some extent, too. But hopefully, the girl could draw the difference between pretence and reality.
UUUUUUU
When Severus went to see Granger that evening, she was, for a change, not engrossed in a book. She was, instead, chattering with someone. As the curtains around her bed were not drawn completely, Severus spotted a head of black, unruly hair. The Potter boy!
None of them noticed him as the door of the Hospital Wing was already ajar—Potter's deed, he thought. It was after curfew, the only time he showed up in the Hospital Wing to see the girl. Potter must have sneaked out, using that accursed map of his. A cloak was pooled in the boy's lap, that Severus recognised as the blasted Invisibility Cloak that his ignoramus father had possessed as a student.
Severus decided to return to his quarters and come back later. But the girl might fall asleep later, and the terms had to be satisfied before midnight, in my case.
Severus could startle the boy and take points for roaming about after curfew, but then he would be questioned instead to have come to the Hospital Wing at this hour, when the only resident patient was Granger.
He hid in the shadows and waited for Granger to look in his direction, so he could indicate her to send her foolish friend away. Being a spy had its merits. He did not even have to put efforts to strain his ears in order to listen to their conversation.
"...won't believe what rubbish Trelawney is going around muttering about you," Potter rolled his eyes.
"Trust me, Harry, I do believe it," Granger snorted. "But where did you happen to meet her? You aren't even taking Divination this year."
"When me and Ron were leaving-"
"Ron and I," she corrected and Severus resisted his urge to snort.
"Yeah, whatever," Potter waved it away. "When we were leaving the Great Hall, she came to us to blabber about all sorts of curses looming over you and what not. What a fraud. I wonder why Dumbledore doesn't just fire her. Oh, wait, I know exactly why. Because of that bloody Prophecy!"
"Harry," she lightly placed her good hand on Potter's.
"Dumbledore has too much faith in that bloody Prophecy," he muttered. "He keeps giving me hints how he feels about me taking Voldemort down, every time he sees me." Severus winced at the Dark Lord's name. "It really irritates me."
"Professor Dumbledore. What happened in that class you were telling me about?" Granger asked. "Some private lesson?"
"Yeah, we had one," Potter seemed ill at ease at the mention. "But...he's asked to, you know, not..."
"That's alright," she said lightly. "I understand."
"Good thing, because Ron doesn't," he groused. "I think he's quite annoyed because I'm the one having private lessons with Dumbledore."
"Did he say something?" Granger asked.
"No. Actually..." He looked up sheepishly, "That's not the only reason, I think..."
Granger frowned. "Did you have a row?"
"Not exactly," Potter scratched his head. "He...er... He saw me...with Ginny..."
"What?" Granger blinked in confusion and Severus rolled his eyes. "Oh!" She gasped in realisation.
"Yeah..." Potter muttered. "Actually, we were all so tensed at that time...with you... It just happened, in the common room. We didn't realise Ron was watching, you see..."
"Harry!" Granger laughed. "Of course he'll be uncomfortable after that! I don't think it has anything to do with those lessons."
"I guess... But he doesn't really have a say, does he..." He asked with uncertainty.
Severus was losing his patience listening to that mundane chatter. Potter was only proving to be an idiot, not too novel an idea. Granger was still not looking at him.
"Not a say, no," she answered. "But he must be feeling a bit protective, I think. But it will pass, you know Ron."
"Maybe you can put some sense in his head," he said. "I think he really misses you. I mean, we all do. But he... Well, you know Ron has this thing for you-"
"Harry, don't," she silenced him. Severus' head shot up at the sudden forlornness in her tone.
"Oh, I thought...you, too...felt the same for him..." Potter said hesitantly. "He thinks so..."
Granger's face had dawned a morose expression. "He needs to stop thinking about that then."
Even Potter seemed to have sensed the sudden change. "Hermione?"
She shook her head. "Just say...I can't be what he wants me to be."
Severus observed how her fingers were tracing her third finger where the ring was concealed under a Glamour. He had never realised how much of a toll the bond was taking on her, so much more than just the fulfilment of the obvious terms.
She was young, had her entire life in front of her (however long or short that might be). She must have had expectations from life, her personal life. But because of the bond, she was bound to him in ways he was not.
The Infidelity Clause only bound her, not him. The bond would punish her if she sought anyone. But he could, at his own leisure. Perhaps that was why he had never considered her plight in such light. He had unknowingly snatched away a lot from her, more than he could ever understand.
With the kind of person Granger was, she would have looked forward to companionship. She was not a recluse, like him. She was good with people. She knew how to form relationships and maintain them. But she was bereft of the opportunity.
"Hey, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Potter said softly. "Maybe I just assumed too much..."
"That's fine," she sighed. "I know how Ron feels about me. I don't know how I'm going to tell him otherwise."
"But with Ron, you know, he's bound to be angry first, then he'll come to terms with it after getting it good from you and Ginny. Or is it, Ginny and you?" That was Potter's pathetic attempt at making the conversation light.
But that did make Granger smile. "I know." She sighed and leaned against the headboard. "Anyway, so when did it happen? I know Ginny has had a crush on you since our First year. But when did you get the sense to reciprocate?"
"That..." He laughed awkwardly. "She can tell you better. Let's talk about books, instead."
Granger laughed and smacked Potter on his head. "On that note, you didn't bring me Defence notes today."
"That's because I was too busy hexing Malfoy in class," he said casually. At Granger's frown, he explained, "Snape had given us partners today. He made Malfoy my partner, all for his own joy, I'm sure. But I gave him as good as I got. Malfoy, I mean. But I wish it was Snape I was hexing."
Severus rolled his eyes again. Little moron. One curse from my wand and...
"I'm sure it was for your own practice," Granger countered. "Malfoy must be knowing some of the ways the Death Eaters duel. Professor Snape must have wanted you to get to terms with those tactics."
That was exactly why he had paired Potter with Malfoy. The girl had much insight to comprehend his actions.
"That little-"
"Harry," she said warningly.
"That little Slytherin was quite embarrassed losing against me," the boy said with an air of haughtiness. "By the way, Neville is doing really well, you know. Even with Snape around to torment him."
"Professor Snape, and Neville is good at defence, yes," Granger said. "God, I'm missing on all the practical lessons."
"You'll catch up in no time," he said as a matter-of-fact. "By the way, when are you coming back?"
"I might have to stay in the Hospital Wing at night until I can walk again," she said a little awkwardly. "I'll need Karly's assistance... But I can resume classes from Monday!"
"So you'll stay here?" He looked around.
"No, there are some rooms here," Granger gestured with her good hand. "I'll stay there. Only for the night. But I can't keep Crooks here."
"Well, I'm glad you'll be back by Monday," he grinned. "I'm really letting Professor Slughorn down with my potions. I'm so afraid of losing my free membership to Slug Club."
Granger snickered. "How's Crooks?"
"Er... I don't know..." He said. "Ginny gives him food and all, I guess."
"There's more to him than 'food'," she rolled her eyes. "Does he miss me?"
Potter looked at a loss, "How am I to know? He doesn't exactly talk."
"You're pathetic, Harry-" As she looked up, behind Potter, she froze. Severus knew she had seen him. Her eyes moved from him to Potter. He raised a brow at her, and as expected, she bit her lower lip. Thankfully, Potter was looking into his lap.
Granger could be anything but stealthy.
"Uh, Harry?" The boy looked up. Granger did a cringeworthy impression of stifling a yawn. "I think I should sleep now."
"Yeah, sure," he got up from
the stool he was occupying. "You want any help, laying down or anything?"
"No, I'll call Karly if I do," she said a little too hastily for somebody feeling tired.
"Okay," he shrugged his cloak from its crumpled state. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
She smiled. "Next time you might prefer coming before curfew."
The idiot boy laughed. "You know Pomfrey throws us out."
"Madam Pomfrey, Harry. And, next time, also prefer not to make a ruckus here," Granger said mockingly. "Anyway, Good Night."
"Yeah, Night." Potter draped his cloak around himself, covering his entire body from head to toe.
Severus watched as the curtains moved aside on their own accord. He hid himself well and followed Potter's retreating footsteps. After that, the Infirmary door opened more that it was already opened, and then closed on its own.
When he was sure the boy was not coming back, he stepped out of the shadows.
"Sorry, Sir," she said as he stepped through the open curtains, "I didn't see you there. How long were you waiting for?"
"Long enough to deduct several hundred points from Potter tomorrow," he said sarcastically.
"He won't come after curfew from tomorrow, Sir," she said assuringly.
Severus dragged the chair he preferred and sat down. He spotted the book on her bedside cabinet. "I did not know you read anything other than course books and research."
She looked at the copy of Little Women. "It's Muggle fiction."
"Might I remind you that I was raised a Muggle?" He picked up the book.
"Oh, yes," she said. "But I didn't know you read fiction."
"I am, in fact, a voracious reader," he told her. "Especially of Classics."
"Really?" The girl looked amazed. "I love Classics, too. Especially Little Women. It's a comfort read for me. I first read it when I was Eight."
"Eight?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," she smiled fondly at the copy in his hand. "Have you read it, Sir?"
"I have," he kept the book back. "But I developed my taste for Muggle fiction in my twenties."
"I have always loved reading," she smiled. "I get it from my mother. She was an avid reader, too."
"That I can surmise," he said with a smirk. "Take your name for instance."
"The Winter's Tale!" They happened to say in unison, and she laughed.
"But my favourite Shakespeare is Macbeth," she told him.
"I favour Julius Caesar to Macbeth," he said.
"I don't know why there are not many fiction authors in the Wizarding World," she shrugged.
"Because not many wizards are fond of reading fiction," he answered. "The wizards who do want to get their works published, seek the Muggle readership."
"So you think J. R. R. Tolkien was a wizard?" She looked amused.
"Perhaps," he said with a smirk.
"Then he must have been a Liberal, because his idea of elves was very different from house-elves," she snorted.
"Back to creating History, are we?" He leaned back. He smoothed the dog-ear of Granger's novel. It was an old fold and had left deep creases on the cover. "Is this your copy or Library issued?"
"Mine," she said with a sigh. "I gave it to Lavender to read one summer. That was the last time I lent any of my book to her."
"The sole reason I abhor lending my books to people," he said almost absently. "I was earlier in a habit of scribbling in my books, but I cannot tolerate that habit now."
"Once, my father had scribbled an address on the back cover of my copy of To Kill A Mockingbird," Granger smiled, albeit a bit sadly. "You can imagine my irritation. But he was a fantastic cook, so a pie did the trick."
"One thing is for certain, then," he decided to change the subject that, he knew, would end up making Granger feel glum, "You have not inherited your father's culinary skills, in any case."
She laughed, "Yes, I get that a lot. When I was still insistent upon proving that I'm not all that bad at cooking, I served many a burned meals at home."
"And distasteful, I believe," he added.
"As if you can cook, Sir," she said lightly. At his smirk, she asked, "Can you?"
"Yes," he replied. "I can. Although I have not had a chance to, since a long time."
"Because you can brew so well?"
"That is a false notion people have," he told her. "Brewing potions and cooking meals are very different. I had learnt to cook way before I had learnt to even chop a plant root." He did not tell her that he had learnt to cook because at times, his Mother was left in no condition to cook for them, after the nights his Father came home thoroughly inebriated.
Granger told him more about her kitchen disasters. After one explosion in which her cat was so frightened that he leaped out from the kitchen window and returned after two hours, Granger was strictly prohibited from entering the kitchen for a week, and from touching the stove forever. Severus snorted and commented how wise that decision had been.
The conversation also revolved around Granger's cat. She told him how the Weasley girl had smuggled the animal in the Hospital Wing, only to be thoroughly reprimanded by Poppy. Although he had heard about it when she was conversing with Potter, she told Severus that she would have to remain in the Hospital Wing, in one of the rooms in the seldom used Isolation Ward, until she could walk again. And although she did not have any complaints, she talked about how she was in a habit of having her cat around when she slept.
lThat idea felt absurd to Severus who could hardly tolerate animals in daylight, let alone when he slept.
On being asked, he told her about his owl, and that he had bought him only out of need. Though he referred to the owl just as that, she always called him 'Amber'. On his usage of the word 'purchased', she looked at him disapprovingly, and said 'adopted' would be more appropriate a term to use, even though he had paid for the animal. By her logic, anything animate could not be purchased, and he countered that by mentioning the house-elves. That led the conversation in circles.
When she stifled a yawn, Severus realised how long it had been. He was surprised to see it had been more than an hour talking to Granger. But their conversation had flowed so smoothly that he did not consider that the girl needed rest.
She, then, finished the other two terms of cleaning and washing, and returned her wand.
As he always did, Severus called for the house-elf before leaving for the night, not annoyed in the least even after spending an hour conversing about unimportant trivialities.
UUUUUU
On Wednesday, the Healer from St. Mungo's, whom Madam Pomfrey had briefly told Hermione about, visited.
She was a middle-aged woman, with an Australian accent. Her eyes were observant and hands steady as she performed the Diagnostic Charms on her patient. The robe with the monogram of St. Mungo's intrigued Hermione and reminded her strongly of her ambition to become a Healer.
"Open your eyes wide, please," Healer Waters shone the light that illuminated from the tip of her wand into Hermione's right eye. In response, her eye watered from the direct exposure to light.
When satisfied, the wand was removed. "No damage there. Good. But you keep putting the drops for two weeks, and inform Madam Pomfrey if you feel any irritation in your eye."
"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione nodded politely.
Next, when the Healer looked over the injuries of her spinal cord, she clicked her tongue. "Well, this will obviously take time."
Madam Pomfrey put a calming hand on Hermione's shoulder at the Healer's declaration. But Hermione quickly flashed a small smile indicating that she was alright—which she was not as despite Madam Pomfrey's reassurances that she would walk again, she doubted it.
But after a few more Diagnostic Charms, she said, "Miss Granger can start using the Chair now."
At that, Hermione sighed in relief.
"I have ordered it," Madam Pomfrey said. "I will get the delivery in a day or two."
Hermione hoped the said was delivered soon because she was really craving to leave her bed. Having spent one week in coma and then the days after that on a bedrest, she would even happily go out to watch Quidditch practices.
When Hermione's arm was removed from the sling, she did not feel any pain. Healer Waters gently removed the bandage.
Hermione could see scarring on her elbow, going down to her forearm. Madam Pomfrey caught her staring and said softly, "It will go."
Hermione was asked to flex her hand from the wrists and her fingers. When that went without discomfort, she was asked to flex from the elbow joint. Her arm felt stiff but not painful. When she rotated from the shoulder joint, however, she drew a sharp breath.
"Pain?" Healer Waters asked.
"More like a spasm," she explained.
"That's because you haven't moved in a while,"
the Healer told her. Yet, she performed a Diagnostic Charm just to be confirmed.
"You don't need the bandages now," the Healer declared.
"Great!" Hermione smiled. "I have so many notes to write-"
"Absolute not," Madam Pomfrey cut her off sharply. "Take it easy for a while or I will have you return to classes after another whole week following the next."
At that, Hermione decided not to test the Medi-witch's patience.
Lastly, Healer Waters took a look at the scarring on her face. "The salve is working well, I see." Hermione, herself, had not bothered to look at her face again after Madam Pomfrey had first shown her. More or less, she had forgotten about the scarring there.
"Some sun would be good for you," the Healer suggested, gesturing to her face.
Before she left, Healer Waters made a fresh list of potions and salves for Hermione and handed it to Madam Pomfrey. "Ask Mr. Snape to brew these. She will need them for a month."
Hermione realised she had never thanked the Professor for the potions she was on. Madam Pomfrey had told her earlier that he brew for the Infirmary. Now that she needed special potions, his work would have been doubled.
Again, she felt selfish for putting the others through it because of her moment of weakness.
When the Healer was gone, Hermione said to the Medi-witch. "Madam Pomfrey, I was wondering how were the payments made for the Healer and that special Chair you've ordered... And for all the potions that Professor Snape is now brewing for me."
"I think it will be charged from your tuition fees," she said thoughtfully. "An addition, perhaps?"
"But, Ma'am...my tuition fees comes automatically from my Gringotts account every year, a fixed sum. I think I need to make the other payments separately."
"The Headmaster is looking into the finances, Miss Granger," she replied. "He must have sent a letter to your parents-" She stopped, seemed to have realised her mistake. "I'm sorry, Dear. I dis not think."
Hermione looked down and shook her head. "That's alright, Ma'am."
"Don't worry, I will address your concerns to the Headmaster," the Medi-witch told her.
"Thank you," Hermione said politely.
Soon after, the Medi-witch was gone, leaving Hermione with Karly.
A/N: No major occurrences in this chapter. It was more a plot need. I'm trying to add more interactions between Severus and Hermione right now, as I've deprived you all from that quite a lot now. :P
Hope you're liking their conversations. There will be more in the coming chapters.
Also, this chapter is pretty much unedited. I might make some changes later because I'm not a hundred percent satisfied with it...
Anyway, please review. Your comments are the only thing keeping me sane and working in this chaos that is my life. :)