You Know What They Say about Necessity...

A/N: Several readers have had questions about the magical assistance for Severus. If you’ll remember, Dumbledore’s words to Harry and Herm were: do not perform magic in front of him. At no time did Dumbledore say there would not be any magic anywhere in the house. Only that there would be no house elves and not to do spells in his presence unless necessary. I hope this explanation along with this chapter will clear some things up. Also, please keep in mind that Hermione was conjecturing about the idea of enchanted washcloths and towels. She didn’t/doesn’t know exactly what has been done, and Severus hasn’t told her. As I say, this chapter should clear things up. And it’s a long one to boot! Ten points to anyone who can tell me where the “vicar in a tutu” reference comes from. “There, I’ve Said it Again” is by Bobby Vinton. Enjoy!

Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers!

Disclaimer: JKR still owns it. I just borrow it.

Chapter Five: There, I’ve Said it Again



Darkness greeted Severus when he opened his eyes.

For one disorientated moment, he thought he’d been captured by Death Eaters and locked away in some filthy windowless cell to await whatever grim fate they decided to bestow upon him. But then he blinked and realized there was light: starlight faintly streaming in through a window, but present nonetheless. Then he couldn’t be in his dungeons, either. Where was he, then?

It came back to him: rushed into his thoughts with a sharp clarity despite his drug haze. Miss Granger. The medicine. Slipping from hot pain into a gentle stupor. Her voice, softer than rain, not a hint of mockery to be found as she’d told him he’d done his part and must take the rest he deserved. Her small, strong hand brushing his hair away from his face.

He closed his eyes again. What had possessed her? Moreover, he hadn’t stopped her, so what had possessed him? The drugs, he decided. He’d been half asleep during the entire incident. His guard had been down and he’d not had the presence of mind to make her leave him alone. Now he was more awake, though still somewhat groggy. In a way, he musehat hat was to his disadvantage. Though he despised being at the mercy of medicines, when he was he didn’t have to think about his situation.

When he remembered Albus telling him he wanted to laugh out of frustration. The facts were simple, Albus said. A: He couldn’t do magic, nor could magic be directly performed on him, B: He’d have to put himself in the hands of muggle treatments until his curse could be lifted, and C: He’d be staying in a nice cottage with Granger and Potter until he was fully recovered.

“You forgot D: I have died and gone to Hell, and E: Said location will freeze over and then thaw back out before that comes to pass,” Severus scowled.

The rest of the conversation had consisted of Severus telling Albus what he did and did not want, Potter and Granger as his keepers being first on his “do not want” list. But the headmaster would not relent on that. So Severus had picked his other battles: the means for him to have to rely on them as little as possible his main priority.

“Severus, I know Miss Granger was your student, but she is also a healer and an adult,” Albus said. “She is very mature and would be completely professional regarding helping you in matters of personal care.”

“It doesn’t matter to me if she’s been nominated for Sainthood, Albus, I do not want a former student helping me that way! It is bad enough I am to be without magic for six months: must I endure the humiliation of Granger dressing me as well? I can hear Potter snickering at the thought of lifting me in and out of the bath as we speak! You know as well as I do that with both of my legs broken I cannot put weight on them. You will have to cast charms that can assist me.”

Albus looked distressed. Severus sighed.

“I am not… pleased with the idea of having magic around me while not being able to perform it,” Severus said quietly. “But it is preferable to being tended to like an invalid. I don’t have much right now, Albus, but I do still have my dignity. Do not allow me to lose it.”

In the end, they worked out ways for Severus to maintain as much independence as possible with dressing and self-care. Albus was adamant that he be lifted in and out of the shower, however. “It would be too easy for you to bump into something or fall off a floating stool, Severus. You know levitation of an object carrying a person is very dangerous. Therefore, you will allow Mister Potte tra transport you in and out of the bath… unless you truly want to risk him levitating you in.”

“He’ll drop me either way,” Severus grumbled. “Fine, Albus. I’ll let your bloody Wonder Boy have his fun at my expense for this one circumstance.”

Albus only smiled.

Severus remembered that smile well enough. It was the headmaster’s “I’m smiling because I know ye goe going to do what I think is best” smile. It had been used on everyone Albus knew at one time or another. Severus could only imagine how much Albus would’ve had to smile at Potter to get him there. It would be a miracle if the old boy had a mouth left.

Thinking of Potter made his head begin to ache. Severus wanted a bath: he felt unclean despite the fact that he’d done nothing that day to get dirty. No leaning over cauldrons, no pushing his hair out of his eyes with messy fingers. For a moment he was gripped with pain, and it wasn’t physical. He drew a deep breath and imagined paying Lucius a visit once he’d recovered from this curse. Crucio would be a good start. Followed by transforming him into a fly and swatting him repeatedly.

Severus sighed. He was hungry, and he wanted a shower and a good book. There was no help for it: he’d have to leave his room. Staring at his wheelchair, he felt a sense of hesitancy. It was positioned at the perfect height for him to slide from the bed into the seat, but…

What neither he nor Albus had told Miss Granger or Potter was that the Kiss of Death had begun to affect his body as well as his magic before they were able to stop the spread. His muscles were weakened. It had taken all his energy earlier to get off the toilet unaided, and he didn’t feel much stronger now despite the rest. He wasn’t sure if he could continue all the work himself. Yet he felt a prideful reluctance to tell Granger the truth of the matter. Perhaps, he mused, he could work around it and get her assistance without her knowing. With that in mind, he cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed:

“Miss Granger! Come here!”

In the dining room, Hermione and the others heard him call, and Harry, Ginny, and Ron gave her sympathetic looks. Hermione put her cards down with a sigh. “Harry, would you please start to warm the professor’s supper up while I see to him? He’s probably hungry.” The four of them had finished dinner about half an hour before and had decided to play some good old-fashioned poker.

Harry nodded, rising from his seat beside Ginny. “Don’t let Ron look at our cards, Ginny.”

“Here now, no need to imply I’d cheat!” Ron protested.

“I wasn’t implying,” Harry smirked.

Ron shook his head and sighed. “Abuse, abuse. All I get is abuse. And from one of my best mates, no less.”

“At least you know you’re loved,” Hermione told him as she got up.

“You’ve a funny idea of love, Mione,” Ron said. But he was teasing and she knew it.

Hermione hurried down the hall and opened Snape’s door. “Yes, professor?”

“As you so carelessly left my wheelchair improperly aligned, you will help me into it.”

She frowned, puzzled. “Professor, I did no such thing.”

“Obviously you did, or I would not have summoned you,” he said. “Now, are you going to argue with me all night?”

“No, sir,” Hermione replied. She hurried to aid him, all the while her frown deepening. It looked fine to her: she had in fact made a point of putting it into place for him. She caught the faintest flicker of something in his eyes as she gently pulled him into the wheelchair. What was he about?

“Take me to the dining room.”

“Sir?” He wanted her to push him now? Earlier the prospect had infuriated him.

“I wish to have supper. Since the headmaster is so concerned for me, I will at times allow you and Potter to aid me so that he does not think I am overtaxing myself. Now, take me to the dining room. I trust you and Potter have something prepared?”

“Harry is warming it up for you now,” she replied as she wheeled him down the hall.

“It is a wonder the cottage has not caught on fire.”

Hermione struggled between a laugh and a frown. “Harry happens to be an excellent cook.”

“That remains to be seen, Miss Granger,” Snape answered.

Laughter emanated from the dining room, but the sounds abruptly died as Snape came in.

“Well?” he asked. “I trust you have not slipped derlin leaves into my food, Mister Potter?”

“It’s not poisoned,” Harry said coolly as he placed Snape’s plate at the far end of the table. “I have witnesses.”

“Your best friend and your love interest. How reassuring. Certainly I’m saved.”

Harry’s eyes smoldered, but he refrained from comment.

Ginny cleared her throat nervously. “Good evening, Professor,” she said politely, kicking Ron under the table until he, too, gave a greeting.

Snape inclined his head. “Miss Weasley. Mister Weasley.”

He picked up his napkin and placed it in his lap, then took a cautious bite of his food as Hermione brought him a glass of pumpkin juice.

“Shepherd’s pie, Mister Potter?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied, chin raised in anticipation of Snape making a hateful comment.

Snape took another bite. “Adequate,” he said grudgingly. He glanced at the cards on the table. “By all means, continue your game. I could do with some amusement.”

Hermione exchanged glances with the others. Ron shrugged, Ginny nodded slightly, and Harry smirked. She sat back down.

“I didn’t cheat,” Ron informed her primly.

“Wonders never cease,” Hermione answered, then glared at Ginny for something she did to Hermione under the table.

By the time Snape had finished eating, Hermione had won five galleons and Ginny seven. Harry had four, and Ron had two.

“Bloody stupid game, poker,” Ron muttered.

“Sore loser,” Harry grinned.

“He’s right, Ron,” Ginny said. “But don’t worry. You’ll always beat us at wizard’s chess.”

Snape looked to Ron at this comment. “Are you as good as I’ve heard, Mister Weasley? Or are your victories exaggerated by the Gryffindor grapevine?”

Ron’s eyes narrowed, but his voice was quiet and civil. “I’m good.”

“Then perhaps when you next visit you’d care to play a game?”

Ginny gulped. But Ron only nodded. “Certainly, professor.”

“Good. Now, Mister Potter, if you will come with me? Miss Weasley, Mister Weasley—I am certain I shall be seeing you again.”

“Actually, Ginny’s not going yet, but I am,” Ron said, standing from the table. “I’ve got to get to Luna’s before it gets any later.” Inclining his head at Snape, Ron said: “professor,” and after clasping hands with Harry headed out of the room, Ginny and Hermione following.

Harry sighed. Alone with Snape. Without waiting for Snape to tell him to come along, he followed him down the hall into Snape’s room.

Snape, meanwhile, felt trembling in his arms and was cursing the fates. Only earlier that day he’d told Potter he couldn’t imagine needing him for anything. He’d forgotten about requiring his assistance for taking a shower. In truth, he should have been letting Harry wheel him back as well, but what was difficult for him to ask Miss Granger to do was impossible for him to ask of Potter. Well, best to get it over with.

“Much as it pains me to do so, Potter, I will permit your aid in getting me into the shower.”

“Sir?” Snape could hear the faint dismay in the young man’s voice.

“Lift me into the shower and onto the stool, boy. Is that not a simple enough set of instructions for you?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” Harry muttered, accompanying Snape into the bathroom. He bent down and scooped the professor up, noticing as he did how rigid his body was. Well, Harry certainly wasn’t having the time of his life, either.

Once he’d accomplished the task, he waited. “You may wait outside now, Potter,” Snape said crisply. “When I have finished I will alert you.”

“But won’t you need help… erm...” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“No, I will not need help with anything more, Potter. Professor Dumbledore has seen to that. Just return when I call you for you.”

“But what if you fall?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Then you may rest assured I will make that known. Go on.”

Shaking his head, Harry retreated to the living room, staying alert for sounds from Snape. Ron had already gone, and Ginny and Hermione sat on the sofa. He flopped down next to Hermione with a sigh.

“Mione, you know every awful thing I’ve ever said about Snape?”

“Yes. What about it?” Hermione asked.

“I stand by every word. He’s a first class git.”

Ginny laughed. Hermione decided it would be best not to mention the details of her earlier encounter with Snape. She didn’t want Harry to think she was defending him. The three of them passed some time chatting about recent goings on until Harry heard Snape call for him.

“I’ll be back… I hope,” he said, winking at Ginny.

Ginny smiled as Harry left the room. “He’s something, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is,” Hermione agreed. “Now if we only knew what.”

This prompted a laugh from both of them. Ginny reached out and clasped Hermione’s hand in one of hers. “Hermione… are you ok with this?”

“What, you and Harry? Don’t be daft!” Hermione exclaimed. Ron and I have wanted the two of you to get together for years! Come on, out with it. When did it start?”

The pretty redhead blushed a bit. “Well, it actually all started a year ago.”

“What? And you’ve kept it a secret all this time?” Hermione gasped.

“No, no! What I mean is… it’s like we started noticing each other a year ago. Well, you know I had a crush on Harry for the longest time, and it finally went away in my fourth year. But then about two years ago it was like it started to come back. And he was at the Ministry so much with his training, and he visited at the Burrow so often…” Ginny smiled. “We started talking a lot, spending time together. And a few weeks ago we decided to give it a whirl.”

“We just wanted to be certain before we said anything. We didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up until we knew we were ready,” Ginny said earnestly.

“I understand. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you, Hermione!” Ginny hugged her fiercely. “I’m so happy you’re happy. I told Ron before we got here and he was just as pleased.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t make a big to-do about it as soon as you arrived,” Hermione teased.

“Oh, he wanted to,” Ginny grinned. “But I threatened to hex him if he did.”

“I take it Miss Weasley will be staying over?” Snape asked snidely.

Harry had, with no prompting from Snape, pushed him into his bedroom after getting him out of the bath, though the man had grumbled the entire time. Harry had seen his arms shaking, though, and wasn’t about to let him do it himself. He might not like Snape, but Harry wasn’t about to be cruel.

When Harry had walked into the bathroom, Snape was still on the stool in the tub, but he was dressed and was toweling off his hair. Harry had blinked in surprise, whereupon Snape had briefly explained that he had only to wash and dry himself. Dumbledore, he’d said, had charmed his clothing. Harry was quite thankful for that.

Now Snape was back to being a prat. Harry forced himself to be calm. He didn’t want to have to discuss his love life with Snape. He didn’t want to discuss anything with Snape. But he would try to be civil for Dumbledore’s sake. “She might be here rather late. If that’s all right with you…”

“Potter, as long as I do not have to see it, hear it or otherwise be affected by it, I could care less if you were a vicar in a tutu,” Snape snapped.

Harry blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting Snape to say, it bore no resemblance to those words. He coughed slightly. “Thank you, sir. We won’t disturb you.”

“See that you do not. The last thing I wish to hear is the sound of romantic giggles.”

“No,” Harry said levelly, his amusement from a moment ago forgotten in the wake of this sneering comment. “Though I wouldn’t expect you to recognize that sound anyway.”

“Watch yourself, Potter,” Snape growled.

“Or what, you’ll take ten points from Gryffindor? I’m scared,” Harry said sarcastically as he walked out the door. “I’ll get Hermione for you.”

Hermione and Ginny looked up to see Harry walking in with a frown. He made a mock-bow before Hermione. “He’s all yours.”

“Lovely,” Hermione groaned.

Harry held out an arm to Ginny. “Would you care to take a quick moonlit stroll in the garden, Ginny?”

“You silver-tongued devil,” she beamed. She took his arm and they headed for the back door.

“Yell if you need us, Mione,” Harry said.

“I might yell even if I don’t,” Hermione muttered, slowly shuffling down the hall to meet her doom.