You Know What They Say about Necessity...

A/N: Ok, a few things. First off: not to give Hermione's story to Severus away, but I'll say this: there is a word in there that some of you might think I misspelled. I didn'tam uam using the old spelling. Also, the next section will have some Severus SMUT! Slytherin's honor. I hope you enjoy this section, though! "Something Stupid" is by Frank and Nancy Sinatra. Thanks to all those who read/ review!


Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be.


Chapter Thirteen: Something Stupid


Severus sat at the dining room table, giving the appearance that he was looking out the window. In reality, he was watching Hermione helping Potter fix lunch in the kitchen. They were frying up fish and chips, and he hoped they weren’t making too much of a mess of things. Although Potter was a decent cook. Not that Severus would ever compliment the young man. He got all the compliments any one person could ever need already. Severus had promised Albus he’d be civil and stop insulting Potter, but that didn’t mean he was joining Potter’s fan club.

Severus studied Hermione as she moved back and forth. Her step was quick and precise: she anticipated what would come next and was prepared ahead of time. His thoughts drifted back to the evening before. When she’d taken his hand, he’d been certain it was because she felt sorry for him. And she did, but not in the manner he’d initially believed. It was not a question of pitying him. It was sympathy for what he’d endured, and a desire to soothe him in his time of pain. He was completely unused to that sort of attention, and it had both disquieted and pleased him. He remembered quirking an eyebrow at her when she asked if he’d like to hear a story. He was certain she was teasing him, and he’d decided to be Slytherin and call her Gryffindor bluff…

“Do you truly believe that you can entertain me with a bedtime tale when we’ve not even had supper yet, Hermione?” he asked.

“I think so,” she answered mischievously.

“Very , le, let’s see how good of a story teller you are, then,” he smirked.

She sat closer to him, smoothed down the covers, and began.

It was no children’s fairy-tale she spun. There were no rabbits, bears, or frogs to be found. Her voice changed, became melodious and breathy, as she told him of a poor fisherman who found a jar that contained a Jinni, and the fisherman set him free. In return, the Jinni took the man to a pond filled with magical fish. The man, as instructed by the Jinni, took the fish to the Sultan himself. The Sultan, curious to know more about these strange fish, decided to go in search of answers and ended up in a palace far away in the desert. There he met a man who was half-stone, half flesh, and the young man began to tell the Sultan his story…

Severus gazed at her when her voice trailed off. “And?”

“And what?” she asked innocently.

“What was the young man’s story, and what did it have to do with the magical fish?”

“Ah,” Hermione replied with a grin. “That is a tale for another night.”

He stared at her, bemused. “Very well. I look forward to it.”

The more he was around her, the more Severus found that he was enjoying her company. She was neither irritating nor annoying (well, not like she had been in school) and was definitely preferable to Potter. Of course, he thought most people would be. He debated on who he’d rather be stuck with between Potter and Trelawney. Potter, he decided with a reluctant sigh. At least he’s capable of being quiet.

“Professor?”

He was jerked out of his ponderings by none other than the Boy Wonder himself. “Yes, Potter?”

“Do you want vinegar on your fish?”

“Merlin’s beard, no. That ruins the flavor.”

Harry shrugged at Hermione, who was happily pouring what looked like half a bottle onto her own pieces. He took the bottle from her and added a few drops on his plate, and they ced ted the food into the dining room. Severus took a bite of fish and nodded at Potter: it was as close as he could bring himself to showing that the food was good. His mind was back on the night before.

The rest of the previous evening had gone fairly smoothly, to Severus’ surprise. Potter had fixed steak-and-kidney-pie, and it was fairly well done. Afterwards Harry and Hermione had turned thely bly back on to watch a program on the Galapagos Islands. They had been shocked when Severus decided to join them. “Who knows what misconceptions you’ll have of the place after watching a muggle show,” he’d grumbled. “Someone has to separate fact from fiction for you.”

It had not been entirely unpleasant, even being in Potter’s company. And now, having lunch together, it seemed that perhaps things would continue that way.

“Miss Granger, how can you stand that much vinegar on your fish?” Severus asked, nose twitching at the sour odor wafting from her plate.

She shrugged. “I love vinegar.”

“Apparently.”

“Harry, what time did you say the therapist will be here?” Hermione asked, wanting to head off any further comments on her food.

“Two o’clock,” Harry replied, spearing several chips on his fork and popping them into his mouth.

“And why was I not informed of the time of the visit?” Severus asked, aggravation in his tone.

Harry swallowed his food and looked at him. “You were told, sir,” he said quietly. “I told you when I got you into the shower.”

Severus opened his mouth to retort that he bloody well hadn’t been, but stopped. Somewhere just outside his conscious recollection was Potter’s voice, mingling with other things. It was possible he’d been told—in all honesty, he couldn’t imagine Potter not telling him. Which meant that he didn’t remember.

“So you did,” Severus replied breezily. He wasn’t about to discuss his mental lapses with the other man. “Thank you for reminding me of that.” Severus wanted to smirk at the look of astonishment on Potter’s face. Potter looked more confused than Severus had felt a moment ago. Perhaps I should make note of that, in case it truly is possible to kill someone with kindness.

He sighed. He didn’t wish Potter dead. Potter had saved his life while they were prisoners of Voldemort, though Severus had repaid the debt during the final battle. He had, blast him, a good heart: it was something that Severus didn’t want to think about. Thoughts like those couldd hid him perilously close to, well… not loathing him quite so much.

“Isn’t it wonderful, professor?” Hermione asked. “You’ll get your assessment, and learn the exercises you can do to help strengthen your legs while they heal, and start a weightlifting regimen for your arms…”

“I’m enthralled, Miss Granger,” Severus answered, eyebrows raised.

She was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but didn’t want to do so in front of Harry. Not to mention she wasn’t sure how Severus would react. She didn’t want to seem as if she was flirting with him. Did she? No! Of course she didn’t!

She ate the rest of her lunch staring at heate.ate. And if Harry or Severus was puzzled by this, she was so busy not looking at either of them she didn’t see it.

Before any of them knew it, two o’clock had arrived, ao dio did the physical therapist. He was a tall, slender, pleasant-looking young man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He shook hands with all of them (even Severus, who glowered for a moment before reminding himself that this was a muggle) and introduced himself as Daniel Langdon.

“Call me Dan, if you like,” he offered with a smile. “Now, Mr. … Snape, is it? Let’s get you started.” He wheeled Severus into the living room, Hermione and Harry following him.
r thr the next two hours, he checked Severus’ legs, making notes as he went, then showed him how to do the leg flexes and lifts. “Until you’re ready for any type of weight-bearing exercises, this is going to be the extent of it. Once you get to that point, we’ll decide what type of AD you’ll need and work out a new regimen.”

“AD?” Severus asked.

“Sorry. Assistive device. Since both of your legs have breaks, I’d say a walker at first. Then crutches, a cane, and finally nothing. As for your arms, I’ve brought you some freehand weights to start you out.” Dan then proceeded to guide him through a series of maneuvers with the weights, which resembled short brightly colored bones to Severus. “Curls and raises are what you need, Mr. Snape. Got to build your biceps and triceps. Shoulders, too.”

By the time they had finished, Severus was nearly exhausted. Dan smiled at him. “Not bad for the first go. You’ve already got excellent leg muscles. That will he lot lot to speed up your recovery once you’re able to bear weight. You must walk several miles a day, Mr. Snape; am I right?”

“Something to that effect,” Severus replied.

Dan nodded. “I can tell. All your lower muscle groups are very well defined. Your arms are toned, but not anywhere near as much as your legs. That won’t be hard to change, though. Just do three sets of reps for each move I showed you twice a day to start. It’s important to build up at the proper pace. Her Hermione smiled at Dan. “You certainly seem to put that stuff into practice,” she said to him. Though he wore a short-sleeved polo shirt and slacks, it was easy to discern that he was fairly muscular.

His dark blue eyes had a twinkle that reminded her of Dumbledore’s. “Yeah, well, I say practice what you preach, right? I like for people to have an idea of what they can do with their bodies.” Dan glanced at Harry. “Speaking of which, I noticed you seem to be ind nid nick, Harry. What’s your workout regime?”

“Erm.. I mostly do a bit of lifting,” Harry answered, flustered.

“Well, keep up the good work. If you ever want to add some bulk, let me know. I’ll be glad to give you some help.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled.

Dan rose and collected his notes. “Well, that’s all for now. I’ll be here once a week to see how you’re progressing, sir. I’m told your next doctor’s visit will be in a month: we’ll see what happens then. Is it all right for you if I come every Tuesday at two?”

“I foresee no difficulty with that,” Severus replied.

“Good. Well, it was nice meeting all of you,” Dan said as Hermione walked him to the door. He smiled at her, and she noticed now what a nice smile he had. “I’ll see you next week,” he said.

“Thanks,” Hermione replied, returning his smile.

After he was gone, she went back into the living room. Harry was on the floor looking at Severus’ exercise routines Dan had written down. Severus was in his wheelchair looking nothnothing. “Well, he seems awfully nice,” Hermione announced cheerfully.

Severus snorted. “If you like a shiny happy sort of person. It’s a wonder he doesn’t melt in the rain.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing, if you like it, which you obviously do,” he said shortly.

She glowered at Severus. “I’m going to go read for a bit.” Hermione flashed a look at Harry, which said ‘please follow me,’ and stomped off.

Harry waited a few seconds, then rose. “Be right back, professor.” He went into Hermione’s room and shut the door. “Mione?”

“Can you believe him?” she exploded. “Of all the snarky things to say. So the man was nice. That’s not an Unforgivable, goodgoodness sake!”

Harry didn’t answer. He was putting two and two together, and he wasn’t getting four. He was getting green. From Snape.

“I mean, how hard is it to show some kindness to other people?” Hermione continued, unaware of Harry’s thoughts. “He’s fairly nice to me, usually, but…” she gulped, hoping Harry didn’t get the wrong idea. “It was just the sort of thing he’d do,” she said quickly, to cover. “He’s acting like a git.”

“Yeah,” Harry echoed faintly. Yeah, his mind added. A jealous git.