Evening Schnapps

A/N: Wow, it’s been a little while since I’ve set forth a new chapter. Instead of spreading out two shorter chapters, I’ve decided to combine and do one long one. Enjoy!

J.K. Rowling is the owner of all except specific characters, situations, and plot bunnies that are unique to this story. I make no money, but lots of satisfaction from taking out her characters and playing with them for a while before putting them back.

Many thanks to my ubber-beta SignoraAligheri, and my sweetie Evan! They just prove that you really can’t do anything in this world without people looking out for you.

So, keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, and here we go!


Chapter 12- A Routine Established

Hermione stood outside the door to Snape’s quarters in the dungeon. The invitation she received had requested her presence at 8 o’clock. As that time had been reached, she lifted her hand and knocked on the hidden door.

A week had passed since the Hogsmeade weekend. Polly Kyzanski had recovered from her illness, a simple case of too much sugar from Honeydukes. During the following week, she had not seen Professor Snape. Other than meal times, their paths rarely crossed, and he had not been coming to meals.

She heard the door open, but could not see beyond the concealing charm.

“Come in, Professor Granger.”

Snape’s deep voice cut through the illusion and Hermione stepped through to his sitting room.

“Good evening, Professor Snape,” she said. Looking about the room, she decided that it looked the same as the first time she was here. But, this time she was able to inspect closer. There were no ornamentations to speak of. There were portraits of previous Heads of Slytherin, to be sure. But, there was not much in the way of personal touches.

She felt the tall man move around her, and place his hand just off the small of her back. She allowed herself to be ushered to the couch and smiled up at him as she sat down. He hadn’t actually touched her back, but she felt penetrating warmth where his hand hovered over her. She flushed a little, remembering the same touch-less heat when he ushered her into the apothecary, the day they returned to London.

“Good evening,” he said, “thank you for coming. May I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled at him. He was being cordial this evening. “I’ll have a glass of whatever you’re having.

As the wizard busied himself at the sideboard, Hermione studied him. He looked healthier this evening. His skin was still sallow, but not as dull. His hair hung in heavy clumps, but was clean, and his posture straight and sure. Whatever the cause of his illness, he appeared to be recovering.

“Here you are,” he said as he handed her a glass. He moved over as sat in a leather chair near the hearth that faced the couch. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Professor.”

“I admit I was a bit surprised.” Hermione looked at him and took a sip of the drink. “Oh! Where did you find Frangelico?”

He smiled, and took a sip of his own. “I was able to owl for some from a supplier in London. I hope you approve. Now, tell me, why were you surprised by the invitation?”

Hermione blushed as he leaned forward, looking at her intently. “Well, it’s just that the last few times we’ve seen each other, it seems to have ended badly,” she said quietly.

She watched as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Yes,” he said, leaning back. “I will admit that, and that is why I asked you to come. I wanted to thank you for covering my classes so very well last week. Your help was invaluable; I cannot imagine having to catch the students up on three days worth of work. Honestly, I expected to find that you had not followed my lesson plan.”

Hermione blushed a little at the compliment from the hard man. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your syllabus, Professor. I remember the workload in your class very well.”

-------

Severus smiled, when Granger was a girl in his classes, she was the only student who could have handled a more intense workload. Her passion for learning was positively irritating.

“Well,” he said, “thank you at any rate.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and enjoying the fire. Severus was shocked that she seemed comfortable just being still, and hadn’t tried to interrupt the silence. He thought about her when she was younger, her mouth was always moving, except when she had her nose in a book. He wondered idly if the solitude in the mountains had affected her. Thinking about her, he was reminded of something he had seen the previous Tuesday night. His headaches had not returned since his extended sleep, and he had been walking rounds. He had caught a couple of students in one of the small courtyards in the castle exploring each other. He had his hands full with them, so he couldn’t investigate, but he had seen a strange sight moving through the hall.

“Professor,” he began, looking at the witch, “I have a question to pose to you. Last Tuesday evening, I saw something I cannot explain, perhaps you would care to shed some light on it?”

“Of course, Professor,” she said with a small frown. “What would that be?”

“Could you tell me exactly,” he fixed her with his obsidian eyes, “what you were doing walking down the hall after curfew with a pair of laughing boys. One of whom, is a sixth year Slytherin, one of my students, by the name of Maddox Flintmeyer?”

The brown-haired witch sitting on his couch nearly choked on a sip of her drink.

“Erm…” she gave another cough, and took a moment to compose herself. “Well, Professor. I came across Mr. Flintmeyer and Tybalt Cianci, from my own House, dueling in the halls last week. As I had them in my office and spoke with them, I was suddenly struck by the demeanor of Mr. Flintmeyer.”

‘Of course he had an attitude,’ Severus thought as he scowled, his Slytherins knew the consequences of being caught breaking school rules. He wouldn’t take points from Maddox, but he would have him serve detention by scrubbing cauldrons, many cauldrons.

“What demeanor would that be?” he asked the witch, still wondering why the boys were laughing.

“Well, Professor,” she said in an odd manner, “he was acting as if he expected me to be harsher on him than on Mr. Cianci. At that moment, I took 10 points from each of them by the way, but at that moment I realized that professors’ preferential treatment of their own houses is a contributing factor to the animosity between the houses.”

Severus watched as she stood, and excused herself to the restroom. While she was gone, he refilled their glasses with the smooth nut liquor and dropped a few ice cubes in each glass. After she came back, and settled on the couch, he looked at her expectantly.

“Professor Snape,” she continued, “the boys had hexed each other. Now, I know they have problems with each other, but I believe that those issues are a construct of the house rivalry, not any feelings the boys have about each other directly. They both chose hexes that inflict no real pain. In fact, between Mr. Flintmeyer’s antlers and Mr. Cianci’s elongated teeth and twitching ears, I was trying so hard not to laugh that I ended up with an idea, an epiphany of sorts.”

He watched as a calculating glint shone from her eyes briefly, before she continued.

“I wondered what would happen between them if I put those talents to good use. So, I assigned them each detention with me last Tuesday evening.”

Severus cocked an eyebrow, wondering how he could have missed one of his students having detention without him knowing about it. Of course, he had been spending every possible moment in his labs, trying to make progress on his research while the pain seemed to be staying away from a little while.

“Why would this make them laugh?” he asked her, irritated at her presumption of punishing one of his students and her lengthy explanation, but he found himself intrigued, nonetheless.

“Well, I thought that if I could get the two boys working together, in both a controlled environment and a manner that gave them an outlet for their aggression towards each other,” she blushed a little. “I thought I might be able to remove the construct and allow them to see one another as something other than a house rival. What you witnessed, Professor was the birth of a friendship.” Her brow furrowed a bit, “I hope.”

Severus was unsure. He wondered about her idea of calming the House rivalries. The rivalries had helped maintain order among the students for many more years than he had been alive. Winning the House Cup at the end of every year was a coveted prize. Losing points from one’s own House was a sure way to find oneself in disfavor with one’s roommates. Gaining points, on the other hand, assured the support and congratulations of the same. The rivalries helped guide the students to good behavior and following of rules.

“Why would you want to upset a system that has been in place since before either of us was born?” He watched her face as the frown tightened.

“Well, Professor,” she began, giving a light sigh. “I believe that the idea has been with me since I was sorted. I was not the easiest student for the Sorting Hat to work with. It seemed that I was too Slytherin for Ravenclaw, too Gryffindor for Hufflepuff, and too Hufflepuff for Slytherin.”

Severus fought back a choke of mirth. ‘Too Slytherin?’ He saw nothing Slytherin about her. ‘Except perhaps those adventures with Potter when she was younger.’ Granger had showed the tendency for rule breaking at a surprisingly tender age.

“So, tell me,” he asked as he stretched his long legs up onto his ottoman and crossed his feet. “Why did the Hat finally decide on Gryffindor?”

-----

Hermione smiled into her drink. She had been as surprised as anyone, at the Sorting Hat’s choice. She had figured herself as a shoo in for Ravenclaw, with her bookish ways and quick wit.

“Well, Professor,” she looked up into his eyes, “the Hat said that a hero is normally someone who is brave, to be sure, but also has a warm heart, and a sharp, cunning mind, qualities of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. However, it felt that I had enough Slytherin qualities as to make me entirely unsuitable for those Houses. It said Gryffindor would accept both my heart and my mind, along with my bravery.”

She watched as mind behind the dark eyes calculated what she did not say. Finally, he responded.

“Why then, did the Hat not place you in Slytherin? Cunning is certainly a strong trait in my House, but not the only attribute we accept. After all cunning is not enough, one must also be strong and intelligent to be a good Slytherin.”

Hermione blushed; she had never admitted to anyone that the Sorting Hat had great difficulty with her. “Professor, the Hat said that my heart, and my… kindness would not survive childhood in Slytherin. It seems that I do not simply have some of the attributes of each House blended into my personality. Rather, my personality is equal parts of all four Houses. If one part dies, the rest would not be able to exist.”

She watched as Snape stared off into space for a few moments, and then returned to sipping her drink in silence. In time, he looked back at her and for an instant she found herself caught in his dead eyes. No life, no spark, no glimmer of warmth shone from them. She felt like she was drowning, and although she moved not a muscle, she fought against the despair that threatened to drown her.

Then, as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone. She began to breathe again; suddenly unsure about what had just happened. She blinked, refocusing on his eyes. He was sipping his liquor and smirking.

“So,” he said, “you thought that if it was this could happen to you, it would be this way for the school, and that the best way to prevent it is to blend the lines between the Houses.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, if we could encourage friendships between the Houses, I think that we could strengthen the Wizarding community dramatically within a single generation. If we can accomplish that, the possibility of another Voldemort would be greatly reduced. By encouraging children to be separated and isolated from children who are not like them, we create a world where hatred of Witches and Wizards who are different is almost natural. By taking advantage of Maddox and Tybalt’s situation, I was able to manipulate the circumstances and launch a social experiment.”

-------

Severus appraised the young Witch for several moments. Her idea had merit, and she was certainly displaying the more Slytherin aspect of her personality for him.

“What did you do?”

“Well, Professor,” she began, “I took them to St Mungo’s on Tuesday night and had them hex each other for several hours.”

Severus exploded.

“You did what?!” he cried as he leapt from his chair. He stood, towering over her as he tried to fathom why she would risk serious injury of children in their care, by allowing them to use magic against each other for such a long time. Fatigue alone could cause problems, but would also lead to frustration and even anger. The boys could have killed each other. As he looked down into her copper eyes, he saw no remorse, but more surprisingly, there was no fear either. He paused, not understanding why she didn’t recoil in her seat, as any reasonable person would do. He’d seen it happen more times than he could count. He knew he was fearsome when in a temper. Over the years he had grown immune to people reacting to it. Being in the presence of someone who didn’t recoil was new. He was reminded of the day of the avalanche. Granger had not once backed down when he became violent with her, even when he had hurt her. There had been no fear in her eyes then either.

She looked into his eyes evenly for a few moments before speaking.

“I took them to St Mungo’s and had them do a kind of community service for their detentions. We went to the Children’s Ward and I told them that their job was to entertain the young ones any way they could. They began to argue with each other and I hit Tybalt with the same antler hex he had used on Maddox. Maddox laughed at him and Tybalt hit him with a rather marvelous Bat Bogey Hex. The result was the children falling apart with laughter; they were delighted at the ‘performance’ being put on for them. I had the staff cure the boys and suggested that they get busy with the entertainment. They spent the next few hours hexing each other in increasingly humorous methods, and getting cleaned up by the staff when it got too messy. It didn’t take long for them to begin enjoying it. When we left, there was no trace of animosity between them.”

Severus stared at her. He hadn’t considered the possibility her scheme could work. He moved back over to his chair and sat facing the witch again. Contemplating what she had just told him, he wondered if it would work.

“You removed the pressure to hate each other, and gave them reason to interact for the benefit of a third party, a group of innocents.”

She nodded.

“So, that is what they were laughing about? You broke down the barrier between them and they had enjoyed the company. Brilliant!”

She looked up with a start. Obviously shocked that he had just called her brilliant.

“Thank you, Professor. Now we just have to wait and see what happens. They might get settled back in and bow to peer pressure, choosing to forget their connection and perpetuating the animosity,” she sighed. “I for one hope that they are strong enough to resist and acknowledge their budding friendship in public.”

He looked up at her and gave a small, devious smile. “I believe that we can find another reason to bring them together, should they prove uncooperative. I will help you in this experiment. I’m not certain it will work, the Houses have always been rivals, but I am willing to see it through.”

Severus watched as the young lady’s face lit up. He felt something in his chest expand ever so slightly. Shaking off the odd feeling, he watched as she set her empty glass down and stood to go.

“Thank you once again, Professor Snape,” she said as he stood to join her.

“Severus,” he found himself saying. “We are colleagues now. Please call me Severus.”

Her face looked stony, and he found himself regretting his lapse in formality. He wasn’t sure why he had offered the use of his given name. He supposed he had been enjoying himself. Even when he was quick to anger, she held her cool. Her ideas were unique and her implementation was positively Slytherin in nature. Yes, he decided, he did enjoy her company. Only now, he felt panic begin to prickle up the back of his scalp. Judging from the cold, emotionless look on her face, he had crossed a boundary she wasn’t willing to allow.

“Severus,” he held his breath as she responded, “would you care to join me for a drink in my study on Wednesday evening?”

---------------------

Many weeks had gone by since their first evening together. Spring was teasing the land, there was still snow on the ground, but small purple crocus were peeking out of drifts here and there.

Hermione walked through the hillside country behind Hogwarts, stepping around muddy areas and sticking to snow patches and little loamy areas. She stopped and stood in the sun, feeling the warmth against her face and the cool breeze lift her hair. It was a lovely day, but there was a feeling in the wind that told her it would be raining by tomorrow. It was a normal occurrence in March.

Today, however, she was thankful for the break in the weather. She wanted to gather some fresh crocus stamens for Severus, for his supply room. It was Sunday, and she would be going to his study for their customary evening schnapps. Ever since his offer of unexpected familiarity, and her counter offer, they had been meeting in his study on Sunday evenings and hers on Wednesdays.

She had been gob-smacked when he asked her to call him Severus. She could not believe that the nasty, dark professor of her childhood was acting like a human. She had often chided Harry and Ron about respecting him, even if they didn’t like him. Truth be told, she never much liked him herself. However, he was a professor, an authority figure, and he did deserve respect. Her respect for him had been strengthened the day of the avalanche. He was out of his element, over his head and still, he swallowed his pride and listened to her when it really counted. As nasty as he could be, he really was a pleasant companion most of the time.

She found herself enjoying their evenings together more and more. She had been afraid that he was reverting to form and baiting her when he asked her to call him by his given name. She remembered feeling anger course through her veins so fast and so strong that she had to clamp down on any expression for fear of showing the wizard that he could still affect her after all the years that had passed. However, as they stood there staring at each other, with his request still hanging on the air, Hermione thought she saw a look of fear flit across his face. It was so brief as to have possibly been imaginary, but she thought for a moment it might have been fear of rejection haunting his face. She took a chance and not only used his name, but expanded the idea with an invitation of her own.

The weeks had been productive, but busy. Between two evenings a week with Severus, one evening a week with Minerva, one evening a week on patrol, she had very little time to accomplish the grading and assignment development she needed to do. Head of House tasks took even more time. She took to having breakfast in her rooms on a regular basis, needing the extra hour to finish her grading. Her students knew they could find her there and her only rule for interruptions was that they couldn’t come to her for help for an assignment due that day. She still felt that children were perfectly capable of doing their homework before the day it was due, after all, she had.

She stooped to pluck more stamens. It was a time consuming process, the delicate threads were useless if magic was used to pick them. She had been at it for several hours already, and had amassed a tiny pouch of the red threads. Severus had commented that he was running low, and was concerned he wouldn’t be able to get out to harvest in time. So, Hermione had taken it upon herself to spend the day in the sun. She really didn’t mind, she had found that she was craving the fresh air and bright light of the outdoors.

Standing up again and looking around for the next little cluster of flowers, she spotted a figure moving across the hillside. Looking closer, she saw that it was Severus. Dressed in his usual black, he was an anachronism. Completely displaced by time. His Victorian severity was in stark contrast to the bright sunny day. There was something about him, she thought. The more time she spent talking with him, the less she understood about him.

She saw him look up and waved her arm, picking her way across the land to go and greet him.

-------

When she arrived, Severus looked down into her bright eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and she was a little breathless from a slip in the snow when she had almost reached him. He felt an odd feeling in his chest, as he looked at her in the bright sunlight. Once again, he was struck with how beautiful she had grown to be. Her hair was pulled back into a high bun; Severus noticed that she had her beautiful dark wand stuck into the bun, holding it in place. A few curly tendrils traced a path down the side of her throat. He wondered idly what she had decided to do with the other wand.

“Hi Severus!” she said, when she had caught her breath. “What are you doing out here?”

“I came to gather the purple crocus stamens.” He felt a small ache at the back of his eyes, and then it was gone. “I made a little time this afternoon to gather what I could. It might not hold me through the year, but I suppose I can order more via owl if I run out.

“Severus,” she laughed, “you won’t have to order any! That is what I was doing outside today. Other than enjoying the sunny day, I mean. Here.”

Severus accepted a small pouch from the witch and looked inside. He felt a small grin come to his lips.

“Hermione, you have gathered all I need for the year, with more to spare. How long have you been out here?” He watched as she blushed a little, and he realized that it had most likely taken most of the day.

“Never mind, thank you.” Severus felt another twinge of pain lance across the back of his eyes and up the back of his skull.

“Shall we go inside, perhaps have our drink early?” He asked and watched as she nodded, smiling, and turned her face to the sun one more time, breathing in the crisp air. Severus paused and inhaled, flaring his nostrils slightly. He could smell the loamy earth warmed by the sun. He turned away and felt another twinge. He scowled; he had been without headaches for two months now. Severus could only hope that this one would fade before it really got started.

“Hmmmm,” she hummed as she turned back to face him. “I’m ready to go.”

Severus quickly cleared the scowl off his brow, before she could see it. Their evenings together were becoming very important to him. He found her to be an excellent companion. They would talk about her research, his theories on Potions development and sometimes, the times he valued more than any other, they would just sit and watch the fire burn.

--------

Hermione walked along beside the tall wizard. She had grown accustomed to his presence and found she could relax around him. He wasn’t the sort to force conversation. She had always figured him for an intensely private man; guarding what little quiet he had jealously. She assumed, when she was a child that this was because of his role as a spy. Constantly being pulled between two opposite extremes, it seemed to her to be draining. She had always imagined that he pushed people away with his nasty demeanor in order to find a little time to himself in peace. Now, that she had grown, and spent time on her own, she recognized his simple desire for peace and quiet. She wondered at his seeming desire to spend time in her company.

‘Perhaps,’ she thought as they made their way around the lake and moved towards the castle, ‘I am good for him in some way.’ Hermione glanced surreptitiously up at the silent man, as he gazed ahead, focused on some point in the distance. They continued to walk together in silence. She found her mind wandering, wondering about her future. She hadn’t planned on being a teacher. She had always assumed her life would follow a normal path: school, university, career, marriage, family, old age and death. There was a good chance that this move had upset that path. She couldn’t imagine meeting anyone suitable while sequestered away at Hogwarts. Even if she met someone over the break, it would be doomed to failure as soon as the fall term began again.

‘I’ll probably end up alone, like Severus and Minerva,’ she thought grimly. ‘At least I’ll have company.’ Startled that such a negative thought found root in her mind, she thought about what her life would be like if she remained alone and at Hogwarts. Minerva wasn’t getting any younger, and the other teachers had lives of their own. Severus might be her only companion. She imagined growing old alone, with only a few evenings a week spent in the company of the dark wizard. Given the time she spent on teaching and her own research, and her previous disinclination to entangle herself with men beyond the occasional pleasurable evening, she thought she could live a life alone. She might even find she could lead a very fulfilling life. But she knew she would desire connection with someone, her mind demanded interaction. Her friendships were marvelous and she was lucky to have such a rich group of friends. Still, there would be times when what she would really want is to settle into a routine, to sit and enjoy the company of just one person, even if romance was not a part of her life.

‘Perhaps,’ she thought as she glanced up at him again, ‘he is good for me in some way, too.’

She noticed his face was becoming set in a hard expression, not a scowl, or a glare, or even a frown. Yet, there was something around his eyes, a tenseness.

“Are you alright, Severus?” she asked.

He glared at her for a moment, and then took a breath.

“Yes, I am fine, I think I should have worn those Muggle spectacles of yours. The light is bothering my eyes, I think.” He looked her in the eye and seemed to consider her for a moment. “I should be fine once we reach the dark of the dungeons.”

------

Severus sat on his customary chair near the hearth and looked over at the witch. He had not lit a fire in the hearth and she had not objected. His head was beginning to hurt more, but he didn’t want to interrupt their routine. He had found the past weeks had been among the most relaxed he had spent in years. If he were to be wholly honest with himself, he would admit that his time with Hermione was positively enjoyable. Even now, with the pain returning full force, he found that if he just sat and listened to her voice, going on about their little social experiment, it helped keep his mind off the pain.

“They seem to be drifting apart, Severus.” She took a sip of her scotch and spring water before continuing. “They were quite friendly for a while, but I notice a distance growing between them. I spoke with Tybalt, but couldn’t be too direct, or it would just push the wedge further between them. “

“I suppose it is time to institute my contribution to this farce,” he growled, the pain was beginning to dominate him and he found he could not hold his tongue as well as before. He looked at the woman across from him and she didn’t seem to be reacting to his nasty little slip. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, bending his head down and trying to stretch the muscles in his neck. He felt the evening slipping out of his fingertips and felt powerless to stop it.

He stood up and moved to pour himself another scotch, but the pain hit him and he swayed, grabbing the sideboard as he tried to prevent his fall. He felt her small, strong hands on his waist and felt her begin to pull him towards the couch. He found that he just wanted the pain to ease, so much that he allowed himself to be guided down onto the couch. He closed his eyes and tried to breath as he lay there, as the nausea was starting again. He was dimly aware of Hermione moving quietly through his rooms. The lights were extinguished and he felt her sit on the edge of the couch and rest a cool cloth over his forehead. It felt good, the pain was still there, but the cool and dark soothed him.

After a few minutes, he sensed Hermione shift next to him, and lift the cloth. He opened his eyes and watched as she dipped the cloth in a bowl of water and wrung it out again.

“Severus,” she murmured softly, “is this how it happened last time? The time I found you on the stairs?”

“Yes,” he growled, “only it had been going on for weeks by that point.” He sighed as she replaced the cloth. “That time was the worst it had ever been.”

“When did this start? Was it up on the hill?”

“Yes, it started behind my eyes, and moved back into the back of my head.”

“May I try something?” She looked down at him, a little frown furrowing her brow, “I might be able to help. It might be painful, but if it is, then it should work.”

He looked at her; he didn’t relish the idea of more pain. His life had been full of it. Still, she seemed to understand what he was feeling, and there was no pity in her eyes, only a kind of open empathy. Finally, he nodded slowly.

She took the cloth from his head and shifted her body closer to his chest. She reached up and closed his eyes. He listened as she told him what she would be doing to him.

“Severus, I need to check a few of the nerves on your face. I need to press on them, and if they hurt, then I think I know what the problem is, and might be able to help. I’m going to be touching your face, and I need you to tell me if something hurts. Don’t try to be stoic, if there is pain, I need to know.”

He felt her warm, dry fingertips slide up his cheeks and alongside the bridge of his nose. He could feel her rotate her hands and move the fleshy pad of her thumbs up to the inside of his eye orbits. She pinched the bridge of his nose between her thumbs and rotated them until her pads were resting lightly in the space between his eyes and his brow, up along his nose. He felt her hesitate, and then press lightly up into the bone above his eyes. He groaned as pain lanced across his face.

Through the pain he felt her shift back and release his face. The discomfort receded a little, but what ever she had done was intensifying the pain.

He opened his eyes, squinting, and saw her shadow sitting next to him. She reached up and pulled her wand from her bun, she cast a few spells and a light went on in the small bathroom off to the side and a dry towel came flying out and landed next to her. Her face looked sad. He was caught up in the power of that sadness.

“Severus,” she said softly, “I can try and ease the pain, but what I need to do will really hurt. It will ease off when I stop, but you must be prepared to endure it. Once I start, if you pull away, the pain could spike badly and you might even get sick, violently. Do you want me to try?”

He lay there looking at her, feeling the pain build to new heights. Finally, deciding that more pain wouldn’t cause him any more damage, he nodded. Hissing as the movement caused the pain to get worse.

“I need to move you off the couch and onto your bed,” she said as she stood up and began to help him up. “Where is your bedroom?”

Severus finished standing up, pausing for a moment, holding onto her shoulders and waiting for his balance to catch up with him. While he waited, she picked up the dry towel and slung it over her shoulder. She placed her arm around his waist and accepted his arm over her shoulders.

He moved across the room and next to the hearth, he walked them right through another enchanted wall and into his bedroom. She stood him next to the bed and pulled a pillow away from the head, moving down the bed, she placed it on the foot.

“I need to have you get comfortable and on the bed,” he watched as she blushed slightly. “Will you let me help you take off your robes?”

He stiffened and stepped away from her, feeling the need to restore some of the comforting formality he was accustomed to. He sat on the side of his mattress and began to unbutton his robes himself. He removed them and began to work on his tunic. Finally, he was able to get down to his white linen shirt and began to kick off his boots. They never fit well; he expected that he kept them to give himself something get angry at, an excuse to vent. He leaned back and tried to use one foot to pry off the other boot. He winced as he bore down, unable to get the boot to budge, and feeling the pain lance through his head. Suddenly, he felt strong hands on his foot and his boot was slid off. She lifted his other foot and pulled off that boot to. Finally, she guided him down to lay on his back, with his head at the foot of the bed.

He lay there, wondering what she would do next. After a few moments, he felt her fingers return to the sides of his nose, and slide into place under his eyebrows. He felt her hesitate again.

“Severus,” he could hardly hear her whisper. “Remember not to move and do try to breathe, the worst will be first and it won’t last too long.”

He just had time to take a deep breath, when he felt Hermione’s warm fingers dig into his orbits. He briefly felt the tissue under his eyebrows get mashed into the bone above his eyes. Then the real pain hit.

Severus couldn’t breath. The pain was the most intense he had ever felt. It was like a focused Cruciatus curse. The pain was centered on his forehead and eyes and moved in grainy waves, expanding across his head and body. Every second, it seemed to increase even more. He felt a sudden wave of nausea and tried to struggle away. Her hands held his face still and he finally began to become aware of her voice, like an angel, promising salvation.

“…six, five, four, three, two, one.”

As she said ‘one’, Severus felt the pressure slowly ease up on his face. It took several more moments, but finally, the vice was lifted. He lay there, with a hollow feeling occupying his brain. As the minutes ticked by, he felt that the pain might not return. But there was still the overpowering hollow feeling. The top of his scalp and his forehead still hurt but not deep inside, only along the surface.

His breath hitched as he felt her shift her position. Then, he felt the dry towel wipe his damp skin. A moment later, he felt her warm fingertips press lightly between his eyebrows. She dragged two fingers up and across his forehead and into his hair, giving even pressure to his scalp. When she finished the pass near the nape of his neck, she returned and set her fingertips a little further out, sliding her fingertips along to the insides of his eyebrows and then sliding up and back across his scalp again. She kept repeating the move, always starting above his nose and working her way along his eyebrows and then moving back along wider and wider paths across his scalp.

Severus lay still feeling the pain be swept further away with each pass of her fingers. He felt something brush against his face, and opened his eyes. Her hair had come free of its bun and was falling down, framing both of their faces. He looked up and could just make out the delicate features of her face, she had her eyes closed and was completely focused on her task, working by touch alone. He watched her face as her hair drifted back and forth, shifting slowly in time with her movements. Her lips were pursed slightly and he was fascinated when her tongue slipped out and moistened them. He felt the pain ease up and was overcome with the feeling of floating. He felt his eyes drift shut, and as he lost consciousness he was dimly aware of her soft lips pressing into his forehead.

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A/N: Hope that will tide you all over for a little while. I’m in the middle of midterms, so I might not get another one up for a little while.

Minerva- I’m so sorry it took so long, hope it was worth the wait.

Kris- Hehe ;)

Vampire_Exotica- I joined up, looks fun, but have yet to have the time to play. I’ll be able to play soon, I hope. Hope all is well with your busy schedule, movie work is such feast or famine. Here’s to a nice big feast. Dang it, you can make me blush with your compliments! It’s exciting to find that people are picking up on the visual cues I’m leaving them. Sight and vision play such an important role in Snapes world, so it’s important to me to share that as part of the story. I’ll submit to ashwinder once they start accepting new authors again. Looks like their move is a big one. My beta lucky to be working with me? No, no, no, I’m dead lucky to be working with her. I really lucked into our relationship. She’s worth her weight in gold. As for the error, damn, Emily, Evan and I all missed that one, I’ve found it and corrected it. I had him pitching his empty coffee cup in a ‘bin’ early on, but missed that one. Thanks for the heads up!

Pickles87- Well, he doesn’t seem to think much on it, other than worrying about losing a finger! ;) Sorry for the wait, couldn’t be helped, hope this helped assuage the craving.

Bill- Hope this chapter times well with your next day off. You sound as busy as I am. Although I’ve decided to run away for fall break and hike around Yellowstone this weekend, and get lots and lots of sleep. No books, no computer, no phone. Just hiking boots, friends, my sweetie Evan, and my camera. Aaaaahhhhhh.

Jennifer- Sorry it took so long to update, glad you found me and I hope you didn’t give up and abandon because of the delay.

Emmylovedraco- Hopefully, the really long chapter has made up for the really long delay. There’s more coming, I’m about a fourth of the way through chapter 13.