AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
"Hermione is incapable of providing him with what he needs."
Hermione rolled over to her right, cursing her spasming left leg and the pain it radiated throughout her body. Most Saturdays, she would have forced herself out of bed and worked through her pain. It was in her best interest to do so after all. If she wanted this job, she needed to attend a few Quidditch games, regardless of the struggles she had in reaching the pitch.
Today there was no such motivation to move. Her body would not cooperate with her desires, and there was little she could about it. If anyone asked why she was absent, she would make some excuse about not wanting to see a Quidditch game. She didn't need to tell anyone about the thoughts which continued to haunt her.
"It will become clear they are not equals because she is too dependent upon him."
Hermione buried her face into her pillow. Was she already a burden to Severus and he was too desperate for friend to tell her? Did he see her as a partner, or as a helpless woman who deserved his pity?
She did everything she could not to be a burden to him. Up to this point, she thought she'd been doing an adequate job operating on her own. Still, what if Severus was beginning to see her failed attempts at flying as helplessness? Even if she learned to fly, Severus mentioned her body needing to adjust to the magic she expended. When she learned to fly, would she still be in too much pain to care for herself some days? If so, would Severus see her and think she was a lost cause not only as a student, but also as a friend?
"Severus will grow tired of her, and will realize she can never give him what he needs."
When would he grow tired of her? If Ron's assessment of her character was correct, even as a friend, she was high-maintenance. Someone like Severus would want a woman who didn't boss him around, who wouldn't complain about her health, and wouldn't struggle to remove her clothes from the floor.
Was it time to brace herself for his rejection? Right now he seemed happy, but was her assessment of him correct? He'd been a spy, so he could hide things well. What if after the threat of having a hostile coworker was gone, he realized she wasn't worth his time and abandoned her?
No, they'd been friends for years. Why would his patience wear out now? Unless he only spoke to her now because she was the only person who demanded nothing from him. That was a possibility. Perhaps he was desperate for someone to look beyond his past, who was just as much of an outcast as he was. Once he realized the reality of her disability, he may decide she was no longer worth his time.
Could she blame him for leaving given her possible fate? Since she was the only one she knew of with her condition, she didn't know how it would progress over the years. It could remain the same, or worsen. She could grow more dependent on him as time went on, which by nature meant she'd begin to ask him to do things. In time he could grow exhausted with her requests and decide even her friendship was not worth his energy.
She groaned and threw her pillow over her head, gritting her teeth as another jolt of pain radiated from her left leg to her spine. Why did she allow herself to care so deeply for Severus? What about him had captured her attention so thoroughly that the idea of him leaving was enough to bring her to tears? How could she ever tell him how much he meant to her without scaring him away?
"Hermione?"
She groaned and raised her head. Severus stood in the doorway, concern evident in his eyes.
"What do you need?" She asked, cursing herself in that moment. Her hair was little more than a rat's nest, and her eyes had to be sunken from the restless night. Why could she never appear put together when he made an impromptu visit?
"I wanted to see how you were faring," he replied.
"Not well enough for a Quidditch game," Hermione sighed. "Though I suppose I should go because if I don't, it's more proof that I am too disabled to be a functioning member of the staff."
"Actually, if you do not go, it will just be proof that I needed someone to tend to me during my terrible cold," he answered.
"You have a cold?" She sat upright and raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed," he coughed. "I came down with a terrible cold last night." He coughed again. "I'm in absolute agony."
"For someone in agony, you seem unbelievably calm."
"I assure you it is an act," his next cough was weaker. "I am beside myself."
"Indeed, it's amazing your nose is not running and you only have a few small coughs."
"Yes, it is amazing how my coughing fits only appear around Minerva," his lips curled upwards. "In that regard, it's an odd kind of illness."
"Indeed it is," she rubbed her trembling leg. "Which is why it's questionable that you're around someone whose health is already fragile."
"I trust you'll survive it."
"I don't know," she grinned. "I hear a runny nose can prove fatal."
"Indeed, it's even worse than listening to Sybil prattle on about her latest vision."
"Oh Merlin," she shook her head. "What is she saying now?"
"She is convinced I am going to marry someone with a heart as shriveled as an old maid's, she'll be too absorbed in trashy romance novels to attend to my every whim, and her hair will be too unwieldy for anyone to tame. It's the same spiel she's been saying since my affair with Rosmerta was exposed."
"She's been threatening you with this old maid with unruly hair and a love of trashy novels ever since your failed date."
"Don't remind me," he groaned. "She acts as if spending my nights reading with a woman would be a fate worse than death."
"For her it would be."
"Thankfully she and I are not together then." He stepped inside.
"Although," there was a pang in Hermione's chest. "I could see you with an older woman."
"Oh yes, one who remembers both wars and the horrors Voldemort inflicted. I am tantalized just imagining her," he glanced at her bed.
"Put that way I can see the problem with her," she moved her legs, allowing him to sit. "Why are you really here?"
"I need to avoid the temptation of gambling before I make another ill-advised bet."
"Is that it?"
"No," Severus answered. "Neville invited a few of his friends to watch Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor with him. He wanted to celebrate his recent publication, and neglected to take my needs into consideration."
"I take it you aren't thrilled about the guest list."
"I do not care to spend the afternoon with Ernie MacMillan, Terry Boot, and Angelina Johnson if that is the question."
"I cannot blame you on that account, although," she exhaled as she glanced at her shaking leg. "i fear I'm not much better company. I haven't even properly dressed myself."
"That matters little."
"Truly?"
"Truly," he answered. "Though if you want me to leave so you can rest, I can."
"No, you can stay," she answered, a little quicker than she'd intended. "I don't know how great a company I'll be with my leg hurting as it is, but I can try to get us some breakfast. With any luck, we can do some research on the anti-inflammatory potion although," she winced. "I don't know how well I'll be able to focus"
"I can do whatever you would like. If you desire, I can even leave."
"No!"
He startled.
"I mean, I would love for you to stay, but I don't want you to get sick of me." She blushed.
"Hermione, there are many things and people in life who I find absolutely exhausting," he took her hand. "You are not one of them."
"You mean that, don't you?" Her voice was quiet.
"I don't make a habit of lying to those I care for, provided I am not spying of course."
"And you aren't spying now."
"I only spy for Lucius."
"Lucius?"
"Indeed, he wants to know when the Slytherin Common Room will be complete."
"Poor man will be waiting a few more years for that."
"Indeed."
She stretched her arms and her right leg. "If you will give me ten minutes, I can get into my wheelchair and brush my hair. I'll be presentable then."
"You're presentable now."
"There's no need to flatter me," she dragged herself towards her wheelchair, which was on the edge of her bed.
"I don't engage in flattery."
"You do when you want a Snickers bar."
"Are you saying you have those?" His eyes lit up.
"There's only one way to find out," she gestured for him to leave the bed.
"I will be in the kitchen. If you'd like, I can make us some scrambled eggs."
She paled as she envisioned him scowling over the oven, tired of cooking one more breakfast when his friend was supposed to be capable of doing this herself. "That's not necessary. I can go without breakfast."
"Perhaps you can, but I am famished, and I can replace any eggs I use from your quarters."
"You don't need to do that, not if it's a burden."
"Breakfast is not a burden. It's in my best interested to make your breakfast since I will eat with you."
"Okay then," she exhaled.
He gave her a small grin before taking off to the kitchen.
She stared at where he'd been standing, wondering how much longer he'd consider making breakfast pleasant, and how he would feel about waking up every morning with her.
"You don't play fair," Hermione laughed as he double jumped over two of her checkers.
"I am being extremely fair," Severus answered and he kinged himself by placing another checker atop his black one. "It is not my fault that you never mastered checkers."
"How can I master checkers when all you do is cheat?" She leaned over the kitchen table, contemplating her next move.
"How is winning a game cheating?"
"First, you haven't won anything yet," she moved her red checker.
"I have now," he jumped the last red checker and smirked.
She glared at him. "I think you changed some of my red checkers into black ones."
"How could I do that?"
"There are several spells which could accomplish that."
"Yes, but at some point you need to count all your checkers," he handed over all the red ones. "You may count the black vs red ones and see for yourself that I am no cheater."
She grumbled as she counted the red checkers. There were twelve. Then she counted the black checkers. Again, there were twelve.
"Have I proven my honesty?" His smug Slytherin grin was pleading to be hexed right off his face.
"This time, you have." She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
"I told you, for the most part I am an honest man," he began setting up the checkers again. "One who honestly wants another Snickers bar. Hand it over."
"You're an absolute addict," Hermione argued. "You've already had two."
"Yes, and the wager was for every game I win, I have a Snickers. I would like another one for my most recent victory."
She shook her head before pain radiated from her left leg, into her whole body. Her leg spasmed as she bit her tongue to prevent herself from screaming.
"Are you over-extending yourself?" The spark in Severus' eye was extinguished.
"No," she sighed. "I'm just having a bad leg day."
"I see."
Her muscles tensed as her leg recoiled. "I know I should've pushed through and attended the Quidditch game. Merlin knows it would've been nice to see some of the people there. It's been years since I've spoken to Ernie, Angelina and Terry."
"We can go there if you want. There may still be time…"
"No," Hermione exhaled. "I fear no matter what I do, Minerva will only see me as a convulsing left leg."
"Is that what upset you two nights ago?" Severus' voice was soft.
"More or less."
He hummed.
"I thought I did well in the interview, but I overheard her speaking with Neville. My leg is an issue for her, perhaps one too severe to overcome," Hermione's body temperature rose. "No matter what I say or do, all anyone sees is this leg. I could defeat Voldemort anew, create the most impressive spells known to Wizarding kind, but all anyone will see is a poor, pathetic cripple." She exhaled. "When will it end?"
Severus paused before answering, "I am not disabled, but I am a man whose reputation precedes him. Sadly, I have learned from experience, there are some things you can never escape."
"I was afraid you'd say that," she muttered.
"That being said," he continued, "I know that you must live your life on your own terms. If you cannot make Minerva hire you, then make her regret not doing so."
"How?"
"By being the only flying Muggle Studies Professor in existence. Then, you can prove the genius of your new defensive spells and join the staff at a university. You will prove you are better than anyone at Hogwarts."
"But I want to teach at Hogwarts. It's my home. I don't want to leave because the ableism became too much to bear."
"Then we'll do everything we can to help you achieve this goal."
"Good, because I want to fly."
"Then allow me to aid in your goals."
She swallowed as he took to the air. Then, he held her and raised her a few meters off the ground. At first, her heart raced, only to slow when she felt Severus' arms around her. Right now, he was here, and protecting her. No matter what happened, he wasn't going to abandon her, at least not without fighting for her. He was the only man who had ever stayed and fought for her. How had she become so lucky to have him of all people on her side?
"Do you want me to move forward?" He asked.
"Forward?" She asked.
"Yes, unless you just want to self-levitate for the sake of it. It would be advisable to fly around."
"I, I guess we can go forward, assuming I don't knock anything over."
"I won't allow you to hit anything," he flew a few feet forward. At first, sweat began to form as her pupils dilated. Then, she felt his touch, and calmed himself. As long as he was near she was safe. Of that, she was certain.
"I, I think I can do this," she answered. "Perhaps not today, but someday. Someday, I can do this."
"And on that day, you will prove everyone wrong about you."
"Indeed I will," she relaxed.
Before he could return her to her wheelchair, someone banged on the door.
"Oy 'Mione! Open up."
"'Mione?" Severus raised an eyebrow.
She couldn't find the words to answer him. Instead, she stared at the door, a thousand words flooding her brain, yet no thought dominating her consciousness. It had been years since she'd heard that voice. Earlier she thought she'd want to hear it again, but now she was less certain.
"Are you okay, 'Mione?" Another voice asked.
"Do you need me to leave?" Severus returned her to her wheelchair.
"No," she unlocked the wheelchair. "You can stay. If they become too rowdy, they can leave."
"Or I can leave," he began.
"No, I'm going to ensure they behave themselves. You were here first. They'll leave before you do."
"I don't want to keep you from your friends."
"Anyone who doesn't accept you isn't my friend."
"Truly?
"Truly."
He relaxed.
"Are you in there?" A third voice asked.
"I am," Hermione flung open the door and gulped.
Before her were three former members of Dumbledore's Army, and her stiffest competition for the Defense Against Dark Arts position.