Hermione slowly drifted towards wakefulness, hearing her name being called, the voice familiar.
"'Mione? Wake up, 'Mione. C'mon, wake up." A hand was holding hers and she twitched her fingers slightly.
"She moved! Madam Pomfrey, she moved!"
"All right, all right, Mr Weasley. No need to wake the portraits. Let's see her. Come along, Miss Granger, let's see those eyes."
Hermione tried to comply. She was so thirsty. Her tongue flicked out and tried to moisten her parched lips, but only succeeded in making them sticky.
"Here, 'Mione." She felt arms slide under her shoulders and ease her up and a cup being pressed to her lips. The cool water felt like Heaven, and she gulped greedily. Her vision cleared and she was able to focus on Ron's worried face and the pleased one of Madam Pomfrey.
"Ah, there you are! Welcome back, my dear. You gave us a bit of a fright, I must say."
Hermione looked around in bewilderment. "How…?" Her voice sounded rusty even to her own ears.
"You collapsed in the dungeons. Snape found you and brought you here." Ron snorted after the last sentence. "Greasy git is just full of surprises."
"Ronald!"
"Mr WEASLEY!"
Poppy and Hermione both scolded him simultaneously, the former at a croak, the latter more strident. Ron held up his hands in surrender.
"Ok, ok. Forget I said it. 'Mione, how are you feeling?"
"Tired. What happened?" She really did feel exhausted.
"It was your appendix, my dear." This pronouncement came from Madam Pomfrey. Seeing the look of confusion on Hermione's face, she hastened to add, "That's what made you so ill. You had a terrible fever. Professor Snape said you were in a fair amount of pain that morning. Whyever did you wait so long to seek help?"
Hermione groaned. "I thought it was just my monthlies." Hearing an embarrassed throat-clearing, she looked to her right and blushed. "Sorry, Ron."
"S'ok." But the blush on his cheeks remained.
Hermione looked back at Madam Pomfrey. "I had taken some ibuprofen before class and didn't want to be late. So I went ahead to sit and wait while it kicked in. Professor Snape came in and made me go back to my room. He gave me a pain-relieving potion and told me I could come back that evening to make up my work. I slept all day and woke up that evening, and I thought I could make it back to his class but that's all I remember. How did I get here again? Did he floo?"
"He carried you." Madam Pomfrey nodded at Hermione's shocked look. "All the way from the dungeon hall. And at pretty decent clip, from all accounts, before he flew through the doors here, roaring inquiries as to whether or not there was a doctor in the house."
"Now, Poppy, let's not be dramatic." Snape's sepulchral voice made them all start. There he stood, robed and nonchalant, in the door to the potions lab.
Beside her, Hermione heard Ron mutter, "Scary how he does that just out of nowhere."
"Indeed, Mr Weasley." Ron's face flushed again at Snape's remark. Standing, he pressed a quick kiss to Hermione's tangled curls.
"I'll come see you after class. Bring you anything? Ginny says she is feeding Crooks for you."
Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank her for me. Poor Crooks."
"Poor Crooks, nothing. She has him spoilt rotten. He's sleeping on her bed! Grizzling half-kneazle has his own ruddy pillow!"
"Just because your familiar ended up a complete disaster is no reason to be mean to Crooks!" Hermione retorted. Madam Pomfrey tutted at her.
"No excitement, young lady. Mr Weasley, we will see you after classes." Ron nodded, then looked past her to the figure in black.
"Thank you, Professor." Snape inclined his head in response.
After Ron departed and Madam Pomfrey bustled off to attend to whatever a mediwitch attended to, Snape emerged from the doorway to his lab, crossing the scant space between the door and Hermione's cot. As tall as he was, she had to crane her neck slightly to meet his gaze. Snape noticed this and gestured to the foot of the bed.
"May I?"
"Of course, Professor." Hermione moved her feet to the right to afford his slim frame more room.
"You are feeling better, I trust?
Hermione nodded. "Quite. I understand I have you to thank for that."
Snape offered a one-shouldered shrug. "I could hardly just leave you lying there in the hall."
"Still. Thank…"
He waved her off with a sweep of one slim hand. "No need. So long as you are well." He stood, adjusting his voluminous black robes, and looked down at Hermione's slight frame where she lay on the cot.
"See me when you're released, and I'll render your assignments. When you are released. If I come upon you unconscious in my hall again because of your unfailing stubbornness, I shall be most displeased."
"Y-yes, sir." Hermione felt herself blush. Before she could think further, the back of Professor Snape's slender hand was pressed against her cheek. Hermione felt her eyes widen. Up until today, she could not recall him having ever made physical contact with her at all. Snape noticed the change and shifted to feel her other cheek.
"You appeared flushed. I thought a fever-reducing draught might be necessary but it appears you aren't feverish. Are you quite sure you're well? Shall I summon Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, sir." Hermione said softly. "I'm very well, maybe a trifle flushed. I'm not accustomed to so much fuss."
"I see. Very well, I'll leave you to rest." Snape glided across the floor to his laboratory, only feet away from Hermione's cot, closing the door with a faint click, and leaving Hermione feeling like she had just run from the Great Lake to the castle.