Never in my life has a person confused me as much as Severus Snape. The most formidable professor in Hogwarts tipped my whole world upside down in a matter of days. I have never had to struggle with knowing exactly how to respond to a person. Around him, I feel like an ordinary witch, and it's infuriating. I often wish I weren't born a Legilimens; it is a blessing and a curse.
Last night I tossed and turned, both too cold and too hot, exhausted and wide awake. With an abysmal two hours' sleep, I dragged myself to breakfast. After not eating dinner and roaming the halls sharing my most kept secrets, I am famished, not to mention my thumping headache. The Great Hall is often fairly quiet on a Sunday; everyone is either sleeping in or enjoying their day outside. Today was no different; at least half of the students weren't present.
With a heavy sigh, I sat down next to Tas. "I'm surprised to see you here." I mumbled. "Well, good morning to you too." She wasn't happy to be here either. I loaded my plate with eggs, bacon, and some buttered toast. As hungry as I am, looking at the food in front of me is making me nauseous. This headache is quickly turning into a migraine, and I can feel the colour draining from my face.
I leant my elbows on the table and cradled my head in my hands, covering my eyes. "Are you alright, Hazel? You look terrible." Tas gently laid her hand on my shoulder, and I groaned. "I feel worse." Talking made bile bubble up in my throat. I took a small sip of pumpkin juice and rested my head back in my hands. "You should go to Madam Pomfrey." I couldn't respond; I didn't think I was going to be able to stand. What's worse, Tas' worry was only intensifying my migraine.
Just as I was trying to push her feelings out, another set washed over me. Damn. He was concerned too, and I couldn't help but groan. "Miss Goldstein, are you unwell?" He already knew the answer, and I would hazard a guess he had a headache too. I couldn't turn around, knowing that if I lifted my head and let the light in, I would vomit. He was feeling it too, and it was becoming harder to stay conscious. I couldn't speak, but I knew I needed help; I internally pleaded that he would understand. "I will escort Miss Goldstein to the hospital wing." I heard his deep voice behind me, but he sounded muffled and distant.
I equally wanted Snape to back away and stay close. A strange paradox: needing someone who is causing you pain to stay with you. I felt a large hand firmly but softly grab my upper arm. He lifted me with extraordinary ease over the bench and steadied me. I still couldn't open my eyes, but feeling his hand on me brought a level of comfort I couldn't explain. "Can you walk?" He whispered lowly. I nodded once, swaying. I could feel he was concerned about me, but also because there were eyes on us. I doubt he has ever helped an ill student, let alone physically supported them.
I kept my eyes shut tightly as he steered me out of the Great Hall. I was shaking; I lied, I couldn't walk. He briefly let go of my arm, and my legs gave way. Before I crashed to the floor, I reached out with one hand to grab his arm and the other the front of his robes. I was panting, and I could tell he was too. He tensed under my touch, but surprisingly didn't remove me. "You shouldn't have helped me." I croaked out. "I'm making you sick." I could feel his migraine was as bad as mine. "And I'm making you worse." He mumbled. He felt a mix of concern, guilt, and physical pain; it was excruciating.
I was still clutching on to him. I didn't want to let go, but I wondered why he hadn't made me. He placed his hand over mine, which was still scrunched in his robes, and gently pried my fingers off. "I knew you couldn't walk." He huffed, annoyed but amused. I opened my eyes for the first time since I sat down in the Great Hall. I looked at his hand on mine and gulped – our first skin-to-skin contact; Merlin, his hands are soft.
I felt a dull zap, and heat radiated from his fingers and through mine. It was warmer than regular body heat, but not uncomfortable. I could feel my heartbeat pulsing where our skin connected, and I wondered if he felt the same. I felt flame-covered butterflies erupt in my stomach.
I was about to blame it on the fact that I was seconds away from vomiting on his shoes when I noticed him looking at his hand on mine, too. I couldn't tell if the butterflies were mine or his now. He met my eyes and dropped his hand instantly. I tried my best to hide the disappointment at the loss of contact, but I knew it was no use; he felt it. With a deep sigh, he stepped back slightly, resuming his hold on my upper arm. "You will not make it to the hospital wing." He declared, not taking his eyes off me. "I will have to levitate you."
I was about to protest when I felt instantly weightless, levitating on my back. The immediate relief of pressure from having to stand made me feel slightly better. "You were right." I muttered, and I caught the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But this is quite humiliating." I was being levitated, barely conscious, through the halls by Professor Snape's side; not to mention my skirt was hanging down so that anyone who walked past would get a free show. I had to cup the backs of my thighs to keep my bum covered.
In a castle where the walls could literally talk, this news would spread like wildfire. "I am always right, Hazel." I didn't have to look around to know we were alone. I took a chance, deciding he might be forgiving due to our current state. "Whatever you say, Severus." His name rolled off my tongue almost too easily.
My reverie was short-lived when we stopped abruptly. He whipped me into a standing position, hovering in front of him. I had to cover my mouth with both hands so as not to vomit on him; we were eye-to-eye. I swallowed the small amount of bile that creeped up my throat and breathed deeply. His eyes were piercing into mine, trying to appear cold and intimidating. He couldn't hide from me anymore, and he knew it. I felt his heart skip a beat, just as mine did when he said my name for the first time.
"You may have offered your name to me, but I have not awarded you the same privilege yet, Hazel." The way he drew my name out sent shivers down my spine. "Yet." I repeated, challenging him further. His jaw clenched so hard that I thought his teeth might crack. He was annoyed, but not at me; a slip of the tongue can be dangerous. He looked between my eyes for a moment before scanning me head to toe, letting out a low breathy snort. I felt like a ragdoll hanging in front of him. In this vulnerable state, he could do anything he liked to me.
For a brief, exciting moment, I imagined I was floating naked in front of him. It was so quick and unexpected that I didn't have a chance to filter it. My cheeks weren't the only thing that burned, and I couldn't look him in the eyes. I wasn't sure if he saw it too, but I know he felt it. I saw his cheeks flush the faintest pink; both our hearts were racing. Without a single word, he lowered me back down and continued towards the hospital wing.
Have I really just had a sexual fantasy about a teacher? Not just any teacher – the one that everyone fears and hates. I don't hate him, of course; I admire him. Through the cold and heartless exterior hangs a heart that craves to be understood. Perhaps that is why he responds to me as I do to him – he knows deep down, very deep down, that I understand.
I don't know if I was aroused, but I was certainly hot, and not just from my illness. I need to find out if he saw the image and felt the same heat that I did. If he had been offended by my feelings, he surely would have scolded me. I was hopeful.
He cleared his throat as we entered the hospital wing, and I heard Madam Pomfrey instruct him to lay me down. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I forgot what was happening around me. I became aware that he had most likely been privy to my confusion, hopefulness, and potential arousal, and I groaned. He levitated me onto a cot at the far end of the wing, away from prying eyes and ears. There was only one other student here, and they were asleep in the cot closest to the entrance.
I lay there staring at him, my eyes aching terribly. "You look as bad as me, sir." I croaked lowly; it hurts to speak. He didn't take his eyes off me, as if he were fighting the urge not to enter my mind completely. "I have you to thank for that, Miss Goldstein." He quipped. I smirked at him weakly, and he couldn't help but let out a breathy snort.
Madam Pomfrey interrupted our staring contest. I caught a brief feeling of confusion at Snape's lingering, which quickly changed to concern as she stepped around and saw his face. "Merlin, Severus! You need to lay down too. You look as awful as poor Miss Goldstein here." She lifted a rag from her apron and attempted to dab the sweat from his brow. He quickly swatted her away. "I am fine, Poppy." He tried to sound confident, but he was swaying on his feet, which didn't go unnoticed by her. She scoffed. "Like hell you are." She grabbed his arm and pushed him down onto the bed beside me, forcing the rag into his hand.
"I'll be back shortly with a pepperup and healing potion," she looked between the two of us, "for you both." She added, eyeing Snape. He huffed, feeling defeated; he couldn't argue with her, he did feel awful. He could tell I hadn't taken my eyes off him, and he turned to face me. I watched him trace his eyes slowly along my body. He stopped at my legs, quirked an eyebrow, and glanced back at me. Was he…aroused? I felt the same butterflies bubble up in his stomach as before.
I looked down and realised that my skirt had ridden up alarmingly close to my knickers. I quickly tugged my skirt down and pulled the blanket over my legs, resting it at my hips, his eyes following every move I made. Shit. "Language." He warned. My eyes practically popped out of my head, and I shot upright. Big mistake. The sudden movement caused my head to spin and my vision to blur. I pressed my palms into my eyes and groaned loudly.
A wave of confusion, quickly followed by realisation, washed over him. "You didn't say that out loud." It wasn't a question. I shook my head, sighing. "I don't know how you're doing this." I couldn't figure out if I was getting myself into his head or if he was getting himself into mine. I couldn't feel him like I would normally be able to in this situation. "What makes you think it is me doing this?"
Madam Pomfrey returned with our potions and a pumpkin juice chaser each. I drank mine as quickly as possible, followed by a large gulp of pumpkin juice. I shuddered at the acidic burn in my throat. Why do potions that make you better taste so foul? I heard Madam Pomfrey laugh. "Sorry, dear. I know they're not pleasant." She smiled and made her way back to her office.
He took a small sip of pumpkin juice, but I assumed it was only to hide his smirk. We both felt better already. He stood and peered down at me, and I attempted to stand too; not that I wanted to, but seeing him tower over me made my stomach burst. He halted my attempt with a strong, broad hand on my shoulder, forcing me back down. "Give the potions 30 minutes to absorb completely in your system." His hand was still on my shoulder, and I felt myself lean into it slightly. My eyes fluttered closed, and I sighed. I am exhausted.
He pushed my shoulder lightly. "Lay down." I smiled softly, my eyes still closed. I curled up on my side and tucked my knees to my chest, shivering slightly. I could still feel him standing over me. He felt hesitant, as if he were fighting with the angel and demon on his shoulders. I didn't dare open my eyes in case I scared him off; I still wanted him close.
I felt him lift the blanket and drape it over me. My heart stopped, but I could tell his was racing. He leant over me as he tucked the blanket under my chin. "We will discuss your nudity later, Hazel." He whispered, his hot breath fanning across my cheek.