A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Chapter 2- Awake At Last

Searing, vicious flames licked at his skin and burned their way through his slumber. It had been so pleasant, finally finding the warmth and quiet he had yearned for. Being swallowed by the abyss was a blissful marvel where there were no worries, indeed, no thoughts at all, only adrift as in a mother's womb. There was always something to spite his accord with oblivion. Now this damnable searing, roaring across his mind, had sprung him out of his reverie and back into that horrid room. His eyes opened and fluttered, adjusting to the firelight that cast shadows about. His face was positioned toward the window, which was now blessedly shut. Snow completely covered the lower portion of the window, but he was able to ascertain a rising moon and a few silvery stars. For the first time in over a year, Severus Snape smiled.

He became aware of a figure to his left, the soft rustle of linen and fingers moving gently over his arm and a band of fabric being wrapped around it. He prayed to the powers that be it was not that horrid Muggle who had very nearly froze him to death. The delirium of the fever made the sounds of the room amplified, and the scorching burn in his limbs heightened his senses. Dimly, an awareness of sweat pooling in his left ear persuaded him to raggedly jerk his head to the left and let it run down his neck to his shoulder to be absorbed by the light cotton gown he was wearing. The professor's eyes lighted upon a vision of loveliness. An angel stood before him, smiling serenely and clucking gently with her tongue as she peered intently at the contraption in her hand. Tightness in his arm belied some sort of test being performed as she nodded her head and scribbled a note on a pad situated at the side of the bed. Severus tried to open his mouth to speak, and again, only a weak croak emitted from his parched throat.

Her eyes flicked up at him in surprise, and she screamed. Goddamnit! he fumed internally. Were all women alike in that they had to make a man even more miserable when he was already in pain?

Clutching her breast tightly, she gasped, stared at him in wonder, and then rushed from the room at breakneck speed, leaving the contraption hanging from his arm. He heard her shouting down the hallway, "He's awake! He's awake! The professor's awake," until finally, her voice faded from earshot.

God, he was so frustratingly hot. What was it with this place? The last time he had awoken, he was left to fucking freeze to death, and now he was ready to die from heat exhaustion. Was there no end to the torture in this hell? To his dour chagrin, he was still unable to move any of his limbs. Just. Fucking. Great. I suppose I still have no magic either. Once again, that theory was proven correct when he was unable to concentrate enough to make even the bedcovers move. He was resigned to lie and wait until someone with an actual brain showed up to explain what the hell was going on. It didn't take long for him to hear voices out in the hall accompanied by a multitude of footsteps. The voices were hushed but spoke in harsh, lowered tones his amplified hearing could easily pick up from the short distance from the bed to the door.

A male voice intoned, "When did he wake up? How long has it been? What were you doing when he woke up?" It was vaguely familiar, eerily like something from one of his many fog-filled dreams.

A female voice replied excitedly, "Just now. I was taking his blood pressure. I heard him make a noise, and when I looked up, he was staring right at me! I think he was trying to tell me something, but he wasn't able to get the words out!"

The male voice spoke over the end of her sentence. "Now don't get your hopes up, Hermione. You know sometimes people can open their eyes while still in a coma. This might just be a response to the fever."

Wait, I've been in a fucking COMA? he thought desperately as the voices continued to chatter outside the door. A coma?' How long had this been going on? Shame and revulsion ignited panic in his chest, the realization of helplessness washing over him. If he had been in a coma, it meant people had been feeding him through a tube, washing his body, and cleaning his excrement while he was unconscious. How utterly fucking demoralizing and pathetic. He wanted to die rather than face the voices that suddenly stopped. Looking through horrified eyes, his angel of mercy walked through the door into his line of sight. The mortification was complete as he realized who had been caring for him: that goddamn swot, Hermione-fucking-Granger. He was in hell, and whatever God there was above was surely punishing him for his past. Rather than let him die, he was left to live and face humiliation at the very hands of a former student. Just fucking perfect. He closed his eyes again and feigned sleep.

"Professor?" she uttered, her voice at once beautiful and terrible. "Professor? Are you awake? I saw you open your eyes; can you hear me, Professor? Professor Snape? If you can hear me, please open your eyes again. I have Doctor Brian Shaw with me. He's been overseeing your stay here. If you can hear me, please open your eyes again and blink twice."

He thought about feigning unconsciousness again, but then thought better of it. After all, he did want to know what was going on and, despite his hatred for the situation so far, decidedly wanted to get as far away from her as soon as possible. The only way to do that was to open his eyes and try to speak. I don't have to be nice though, he thought vindictively. He was thoroughly pissed, ashamed, outraged, and mortified. Someone was going to pay for not letting him die.

"I don't think it was really him seeing you, Hermione," a voice that must have belonged to Dr. Shaw whispered.

Shaw, Shaw, where have I heard that name? thought Snape as he allowed his mind to wander into the distant past. Ah yes, a St. Mungo's doctor who was young and full of piss and vinegar when Snape was just starting his teaching career. Shaw thought he knew everything. Severus hated that smug bastard since the time one of his students had been sent to the hospital and placed in Shaw's care. Snape had told the doctor precisely what was wrong with the boy; he had taken a nasty fall from a tree at the outer edge of the Forbidden Forest and landed in a poisonous thatch of Bramblethorns. Dangerous, but not deadly. Circulation had slowed dramatically by the time Hagrid found him and brought him to the infirmary, so after giving him a potion to counteract the poison, Snape had brought him to St. Mungo's personally. All the son-of-a-bitch needed to do was continue giving him the anti-poison potion at the same time each day, keep him under observation, and keep the circulatory system properly stimulated to keep clots from forming. The jackass had swooped in, taken the boy and, after Snape had left, promptly sent the boy home to his parents. By the time the parents brought him back to St. Mungo's and owled Hogwarts their outrage, the boy was close to death. Snape had never had so much fury to unleash as he did on Shaw over that incident. The boys' parents had threatened to have his teaching license revoked for irresponsibly handling the situation. When he had gotten through with Shaw, he thought the man was going to piss his pants. No wonder I'm a fucking mess with this idiot as my doctor. I wonder if he remembers who I am. A smug feeling bloomed within him.

"Hermione, he's not responding, honey. I'm sorry, I know you wanted him to wake up, but you must have been seeing things," Dr. Shaw whispered.

"But Dr. Shaw, I saw him! He looked right at me! He tried to speak to me! It's not the fever, I swear, he's come back to us!" She pleaded, her lilting voice starting to rise tremulously.

Just then, Severus decided to open his eyes. What the hell - he might as well have some satisfaction where he could get it. Maybe he would find out what was going on and demand to know why Dr. Nitwit had the nerve to call Hermione "honey." The nerve of the man. He stared right at Hermione and Dr. Shaw as they continued to ignore him and argue over whether he was really awake or not. Come ON, you twits, he projected from inside his brain. Come on and fucking look at me already!

As if on cue, Hermione turned and looked into his eyes just as Dr. Shaw was moving to leave. She gasped and grabbed the doctor's white lab coat, tugging on it like it was on fire. He turned around with a questioning look on his face to Hermione and then, seeing the direction she was looking, looked right into the deep, furious eyes of Severus Snape.