AN: Thank you all for the support! It really makes me happy, especially on a day like today when I feel like crap.
Severus was grateful for occlumency. It could make a day one woke up with their stomach in knots seem like an ordinary weekend. It prevented unnecessary questions from being asked, especially from inquisitive colleagues.
Hermione was too perceptive for Severus' own good. She knew him well enough to know that his lips twitched when he was nervous, and that when his eyes darted around, it meant he had too much on his mind. The last thing she needed was to know that this was anything more than a routine match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. It would be too nerve-wracking if she knew her future was being decided on a Quidditch pitch by a group of unwitting students, while she laid in bed, agonizing over the pain in her leg because it had rained the night before.
From inside her quarters he heard the clacking of a device and some mutterings. It was a good sign for her to be up and around during a rainy day. Perhaps her leg would cooperate long enough for her to practice clearing her mind when he returned.
"Hermione?" He called.
He heard her hiss before the door glowed light blue. "Come in."
The first thing Severus noticed as he stepped inside was a fully dressed Hermione in a wheelchair. She squeaked and rubbed her spasming leg.
"Hermione, you're out of bed, and appear to be going somewhere," he noted.
"Yes," she winced. "I have to get ready for the game."
"Are you certain that is advisable?"
"Most days I would say no," she massaged her leg harder. "But today is different. I have something to prove."
"Whatever could that be?"
"I can be like anyone else, and do everything any other professor can."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Minerva hasn't sent out the interview requests yet," she explained. "There's still a chance she could change her mind. I'll have to work hard to prove myself though."
"And what do you plan to do today in order to achieve this goal?"
"If I can attend a Quidditch match during a rainstorm, it will show I can function like any other professor."
"Perhaps your time would be better spent working on your spells instead of pushing yourself too hard and risking a potential injury."
"I worked on my spell last night." She wheeled over to her kitchen until she was beside Crookshanks' food dish. With the flick of her wand, the cat food box landed in her hands. "Still, Minerva has a point. I have to show that I can be active in the rain. If I can be active in the rain, I can teach a class during the rain which involves physical exertion. I have to be able to do more when my leg hurts than I do now. Attending this game is a great first step."
"Pushing yourself until you faint form the pain is not the answer."
"I won't faint," She poured the cat food into the bowl. "With any luck, the Ibuprofen will kick in and take the edge off the pain."
"How do you plan to wheel through the rain? The side door is too narrow for you, and there isn't a path from the main door to the Quidditch Pitch."
She glanced up and frowned. "I was hoping someone could push me if I get stuck in a puddle."
Severus hummed. "Or we could fly over it."
She blanched as the cat food floated onto the table.
"You need to get used to levitation soon enough. What better way then allowing me to levitate you a few places?" He mused aloud.
"The place where the professors sit is high," she replied.
"Isn't the point of flying to go to high places?"
"While I'm not heavy, this chair isn't the lightest."
"I assure you I am capable of lifting you and a wheelchair," he replied. "And if you prove too heavy for me, I will use a levitation spell."
"Please don't," her face became even paler. "The magic from those spells aggravates my leg pain. The last time a healer performed one on me, I couldn't eat for an entire day due to the pain."
"I will refrain from using one then."
She continued to stare at him, uncertainty looming in her eyes.
"If you want to prove you can function in the rain, we need to leave soon," he continued.
"Right," she took a deep breath. "Let's go."
She put on a rain coat she'd placed on a kitchen chair, and wheeled herself out the door. As they made their way down the hallway, he asked, "Have you practiced clearing your mind?"
"I have," some of the tension left her muscles. "There are a few times I think my mind is clear, until I realize that thinking my mind is clear counts as a thought."
"Indeed it does," Severus chuckled. "Do not be too hard on yourself though. I had the same issues when I first began flight lessons."
"You did?"
He nodded.
She continued to stare at him with a mix of puzzlement and curiosity.
"Did you believe that I came out of the womb knowing how to occlude and clear my mind?" He teased.
"No," she admitted. "I just never gave much thought to how you learned to do them."
"Understandable. I have no illusions that anyone stays up all night wondering about my past."
"It isn't that I was never curious about you, but I figured if you wanted me to know how you learned occlumency and flight you would tell me," she replied as they neared the door.
"It took practice, but given the rewards I was highly motivated to learn."
"What were the rewards?"
"I could survive the Marauders."
"That's why you learned occlumency?" She stopped in front of the front door.
"Indeed."He placed his hand on the door, but did not open it. "I didn't want them to see me in pain. If I ever showed the slightest amount of distress, they would continue their attacks, a fact I learned the hard way during my first year. Occluding my emotions away was the only way I knew how to survive a four on one attack."
"I'm sorry," she answered in a quiet voice.
"There is nothing for you to apologize for," he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a black umbrella. Without a word, it reached its full size. He put it over Hermione. "You didn't support them, nor did you cover for them."
"Dumbledore was an arse to ever take their side over yours," Hermione wheeled through the door, staying under the umbrella.
"You are one of the few who believes that," he muttered, allowing the door to shut as he stepped outside.
"I am the brightest witch of my age, so I tend to be right every once in awhile," she pause. "And I'm right about this. Dumbledore could be an arse."
"That he could be." Severus remained next to her, shielding her from the weather.
Hermione reached her hand out from the umbrella and touched the rain. He twisted his lips as a smile came to her face.
"I'm almost always inside during the rain," she began. "It's been a couple of years since I've felt it on my hands. I've missed feeling it."
"I see," his eyes fell on her leg. "How much pain are you in?"
"I've felt worse, but I've felt better," she flinched and returned her hand to her side. "Rainy days are never going to be easy for me though."
"No, they will not," Severus turned to the dirt path. Although he was able to take a step on it, her wheelchair sunk into the mud.
Snarling, Hermione spun on the wheels, willing it to go forward. Without a word, Severus got behind her and began pushing her, the wheels kicking mud onto his teaching robes. Thank Merlin they weren't new. Then again, if they were new, there were worse causes to soil them than this.
"I apologize," she stopped and exhaled. "If electricity worked in Hogwarts and I had more money, I would be in a different wheelchair. There are some which can maneuver in the mud. Sadly I couldn't afford one of those anyway, but it would certainly be convenient."
"Do not worry," He stopped pushing her. "This is an excellent opportunity to become accustomed to the sensation of levitation."
"Now?" Her eyes grew. "You want us to do it now?"
"Yes," he levitated off the ground. "If I promise to start slow and allow you to adjust to the height, do you trust me to levitate you to the professor's box?"
"Okay," she answered in a weak voice.
"If you want to learn how to fly you have to leave the ground. There is no way around that."
"I know," she swallowed. "It doesn't make me any less nervous."
"Then consider this desensitization," he left her wheelchair a couple of meters off the ground. When he didn't hear any complaint, he began flying towards the crowd of students in the distance, all preparing for the Quidditch game.
"This isn't terrible," she began.
"Good, but we both know you'll have to go higher than this."
"I know, but for now," her voice was even, "this is pleasant."
"I am glad to hear it," he shot up two more meters off the ground, eliciting a yelp.
"Would you warn me before you do that?" She demanded.
"When you start to learn to fly your body will shoot up at times without your willing it. It's all part of the process of controlling your magic. You need to get used to it now."
"Fine."
They approached the stadium, where they could already hear the excited cheers of the students.
"Who's playing today?" She asked.
"Slytherin versus Ravenclaw," he answered.
"Oh."
There was silence for a few moments.
"You don't seem to have a strong opinion on it." He raised her another meter.
"I only know Gryffindor is in first place and Ravenclaw is, according to you, 'exceeding expectations,'" she couldn't hide the tension in her voice.
"Slytherin will win today."
"How do you know?"
"Because I threatened to give them all detentions if they lost."
"You did?"
"Yes," he went higher.
"That was cruel," she gripped the wheelchair armrests tighter.
"But necessary. They are playing down to their competition. It is about time someone made it clear this was no longer acceptable."
"I'll take your word for it." They were now at the Quidditch pitch.
"I am about to raise you the rest of the way," Severus warned, thankful they were there. He had lost all sensation in his arms ten meters ago.
"Fine." She gulped.
She shrieked as he soared higher. Once they reached the teacher's box, he set her down and flew until his feet touched solid ground.
"Hermione?" Neville asked.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was shaking.
"Hey, are you okay?" Neville asked. "How did you even get up here?"
She opened an eye.
"It is fine," Severus replied from beside her. "We are on the ground, and there is no risk of you falling."
She relaxed.
"How did you even get here?" Neville asked.
"Severus flew me," she replied.
"Severus?" Neville turned to him. He covered his mouth with his hands and suppressed a laugh as he examined his friend.
"Indeed," Severus glanced down at his clothes. His overcoat was slathered in mud, and his soggy hair only added to his disheveled composition. Still, he'd managed to help Hermione reach her destination, which was the only achievement he cared about.
"I am so sorry," Hermione began. "I had no idea I was kicking up so much mud."
"Think nothing of it," he answered. "It is a Quidditch game, not a fashion show. There is no great need for me to look my best."
"I beg to differ. I have," Minerva turned to the woman in the wheelchair. "Hermione?"
"Yes," she winced as she rubbed her spastic leg.
"I did not think you'd be able to make it," the Headmistress answered
"I didn't know if I would either," she admitted. "Fortunately, Severus was able to assist me in getting through the mud."
"Yes, but your leg must be hurting."
"I'll survive," her toes curled in response to a jolt of pain.
"How did you get up here? Even if Severus got you unstuck, that doesn't explain how he got you up here."
"He flew me."
"Oh goodness," Minerva swallowed. "And that's how he became such a mess."
"Yes, but I promise, I'll help clean his clothes," Hermione replied, "I can clean them faster than the house elves can."
"That isn't my concern. Rather, I'm concerned with how filthy he appears."
"Why?" Severus drawled. "I am not a handsome man on a good day. A little mud detracts nothing from my appearance."
"Severus?" A woman began.
Severus bit his tongue and suppressed a groan as he recognized the woman before him.
"Andromeda?" Hermione asked. "What are you doing here?"
She answered. "I was supposed to enjoy a game with an eligible bachelor, but now I'm stuck spending the afternoon with Severus Snape!"