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Hermione Granger slid into her seat in Potions, thankful to be early so that she could have a moment to gather herself. Her belly was cramping something terrible and she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and curl up with a heating spell. The medication she had taken before leaving her chamber hadn't kicked in yet and the threat of voiding the meager contents of her stomach was not idle.
Hermione took advantage of the quiet before the other sixth-years started to arrive to lay her head on her desk while she prayed for deliverance from the clawing pain in her gut. She sensed the wards that protected the door between Professor Snape's classroom and his private quarters being removed a scant second before the door opened and the tall, dark-haired man swept through, impressive as ever in his flowing black robes. Hermione heard his steps falter before continuing, followed by his deep baritone voice.
"Miss Granger, are you unwell?"
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Severus Snape stopped short after walking into his classroom, surprised to see a tawny curly head resting on a desk. Not that the early bird tendency was anything new for Granger, but the lying down was something he'd never seen the insufferable little know it all do in class, ever.
"Miss Granger, are you unwell?"
Her head shifted and she raised her face to respond. Her complexion was pasty and a sheen of sweat dappled her pale forehead and cheeks. Through bloodless lips, she whispered,
"Just some cramps, Professor. I took some medication. I'll be fine when it kicks in."
"Cramps? Have you injured yourself, Granger?" Now she blushed on top of the pallor.
"No, sir. I…ah….well, that is…" Snape raised his hand.
"No need to continue, I believe I understand. You said you had taken medication. What potion did Madam Pomfrey give you?"
"She didn't. I took some ibuprofen." Snape snorted.
"Muggle medicine. I might have known. Wait here." He turned and disappeared into his private quarters again, leaving Hermione feeling ill at ease now in addition to being in near agony. Presently, Snape returned with a small vial in hand, offering it to her.
"Take this, return to your rooms, cast a heating spell, and rest." Hermione started to protest but a sharp look silenced her.
"As much as it would pain me to assign detention to someone in extremis, I will if you do not obey me immediately, Miss Granger. You're in no shape for lessons." Seeing the tears welling in her eyes, Snape made an effort to soften his tone. "If you feel up to it, you may return this evening and we will discuss make up work. Leave your books here. I will attend to them for you. You are not to worry about classes until you are at the least able to sit erect without looking as though you might faint from the strain. Are you able to make it back or are you in need of assistance?"
Hermione gratefully drank the proffered potion, handed the vial back to Snape, and responded softly,
"No sir. I'll be able to get there. I…um…thank you?"
Snape waved his hand in dismissal. "No need. I'll floo Professor McGonagall and your other classes to excuse you."
Hermione nodded bewilderedly as she limped out of the Potions room.
Hermione made it to her room, bathed in perspiration and now woozy from the potion Professor Snape had given her. Divesting herself of her uniform, she cast a quick cleansing charm to suffice until she felt up to getting a proper bath. As she crawled into her bed and activated the heating spell, she couldn't help but wonder if she had hallucinated the entire encounter.
Who was that and what has he done with Professor Snape?
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Back in the Potions room, having flooed all the necessary staff members to apprise them of the situation, Snape waited until the remaining sixth-years took their seats before assigning the day's potion and directing the students to gather their ingredients and begin. His lip curled into the trademark scowl her was known for as Harry Potter raised his hand.
"What is it, Potter?"
"It's Hermione, sir. She's not here."
"I have eyes, Potter. I can see that she's not here. I'd advise you to worry less about the whereabouts of your paramour and turn your attention to your studies. That name won't get you everywhere." Snape saw the dark red flush rising from Potter's collar and waited for him to retort, but other than a glare, there was no response save for a muttered "Bloody git" as he swept back to the front of the room.
As he took his seat behind his desk, he felt an object in his robe pocket bump his right thigh, and he reached in to investigate. His long fingers closed around the small vial that had contained the pain relieving potion he had given Hermione earlier in the day and he pulled it out, studying it in the dim light of the room. Then he stood, passing through the door to his chambers and heading to his sink to place the vial there for washing.
However, before releasing the vial, and without really knowing why, he raised it to his lips, pressing them against where Hermione's had been a few hours earlier. And then he sighed, straightened, dropped the vial in the sink, and stormed back into the classroom.