Calling Dr. Granger

Calling Doctor Granger

Chapter 6

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Snape kept his eyes closed. He knew if he opened them there would be nothing to see. But he knew she was there. His little protector, his little guardian, had been giving up her nights and sleeping on the floor. He wanted to speak to her and tell her all the things he didn’t dare say during the daylight hours. He’d tell her stories of their many lives togr. r. Oh, yes, they’d had a few adventures. But he doubted she would understand all the worlds that kept swirling around in his mind, just there beyond his fingertips. He knew, though, that the good ones always had her in it. And that meant that this one had to be one of those stories, even though he still felt dead. She was his saint, his angel, his Goddess.

He listened for the church bells. They always rung the hour, but you could only hear them faintly in the middle of the night as it was now. One, two, three, and the door burst open. A second attack was underway. He squeezed his eyes shut and resigned himself. Something was broken, had been broken under torture. Once he would have fought, even without a wand. He kept his eyes closed just in case they only wanted to hurt him and not kill him. It was dark in the room, but not dark enough. He didn’t want to accidentally identify anyone-- that might ensure his murder at his or her hands. Still he was resigned. He thought he heard a softly murmured spell. One of his assailants yelped before he could even land a blow on Snape. Another Wizard let out a shriek. The door to his room opened and closed. Snape opened one eye.

“Thank you, Dr. Granger,” he said daring to speak, but not above a whisper.

There was no response. He worried about her, but she was, after all, a clever girl. He thought he felt a cool, smooth hand stroke his forehead just as he drifted to sleep.

&&&


Hermione was roused from her sleep by the knocking on her front door. She cursed, a bad habit picked up during the war that she had stopped but now had started again. Still cursing, wand in hand, she got on her bathrobe and made for the door. She only needed a few hours sleep a night, but now that she was guarding Snape, those few hours were hard to come by. She stood at the side of the door and threw a protection charm. She wouldn’t be surprised if the evildoers would have the nerve to attack her at her own home.

“Who’s there?” she asked, keeping the tremor from her voice.

“Oh, Hermione. You didn’t answer the phone or respond to my owl. I was worried.”

“Molly? Molly!” Hermione threw open the door and saw the old Witch standing there. Something relaxed in her and she grabbed the older woman in a huge hug. “Molly.” Tears fell from Hermione’s eyes as she brought her in. Hermione carefully re-warded the door and escorted her in.

“Dear child, what have you been up to? Ron and I don’t know what to think!” She had gone from red haired to completely gray over the past few years and the weight she had lost had left her skin loose and sagging. Why she didn’t take better care of herself Hermione didn’t understand. However, unlike she did with Ron, she never made suggestions to the mother for improvement.

“I’m fine.” Hermione lied. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“Why did you need the invisibility cloak? Ron’s been in a tizzy since you made him lend it to you.”

“I don’t want you to worry.” Hermione’s mind went back to last night and how her staying in Snape’s room had possibly saved his life.

“Too late. You’ve got both of us all worked up. We’ve lost so many, my dear girl, we can’t afford to lose anymore of our loved ones.” Her voice was firm and unyielding, as if she was ready to take on Death himself.

Hermione’s face reddened. “I can’t explain it, well, maybe I can. One of my patients has been… been a target for abuse.”

“Are you talking about Severus? What’s been going on there?” There was a new alertness that Hermione hadn’t seen in a long time, as if the old Molly was coming back in focus.

“My first day back after the ‘incident’ I was called in front of the Board of Directors. They believed that perhaps I didn’t do everything in my power to save Dr. Falco’s life. Because I had been Prof. Snape’s student, my loyalty was in question. I was told that I was still in charge of his case, but if I put even a toe out of line, I’d been out of my job and my career. They advised me to get him well as quickly as possible and out the door.

“He’s been attacked twice since then. It doesn’t make sense; really, if they want him gone they should just let him get better. His mind is in a fragile state, halfway between fantasy and reality. He’s closing himself off to me, refusing to talk at all. Having that thug of a bodyguard assigned to me has complicated things. We don’t even feel safe to chat. I think I maybe losing him all over again.” Hermione gave a small sob, but forced herself to continue.

“I’m trying to get him well enough to have him go to a place to recuperate, but there are no openings even if I do. In addition, I received a warning to stay away from him. Once he leaves the hospital, he’s going to be picked up by the Aurors and questioned in such a way that he won’t survive.”

The last words spilled out along with tears and sobs. Molly held the girl and rocked her. Eventually, she made a pot of tea for Hermione and herself. When she came back into the room, the girl was sound asleep on the sofa. Molly saw what appeared to be the invisibility cloak hanging up on Hermione’s coat rack. Taking the cloak in hand, Molly scooped up some floo powder and left.

&&&

Hermione woke up just before dawn. She realized that she’d fallen asleep and slept through her watch. He could be dead, she thought and a cold chill went through her. She dreaded what might be awaiting her at the hospital. She showered and dressed in record time and headed there. It was hours before she was due to be there and she went rushing through the corridors, ignoring the questions of the night nurse.

She found him lying very still on his bed. When he opened his eyes, a burst of relief flooded through her.

Without even thinking about it, she took his hand in hers.

“I missed you last night,” he said softly.

Hermione stared at him. His face was as homely as ever, but Hermione could have sworn that he looked different, somehow. She realized that perhaps it was no more than relief on her part, but to her he had become nice-looking. There was nothing objectively changed about him that she could put her finger on—she just saw him differently. She felt her heart skip at his words.

Hermione smiled. “I don’t know what you are talking about, but I’m sorry.” The soft sound of his voice that had instilled fear and anger in her as a girl now soothed her frayed nerves. It crossed her mind that she was feeling something for him much greater than protectiveness. She shut out the thought quickly. She didn’t know this man-- he was only a patient. Another sneaky part of her replied, but wouldn’t you like to know him better? She checked his vitals and was pleased with what she found. He was almost ready to leave.

He stretched out his bony hand to her face. “You look tired. You need to take better care of yourself.” The look in his eyes was tender and mild. Hermione again had to ask herself where was the man that until recently she’d hated?

“I will. Just as soon as you’re well enough to leave here and we find you a good placement. You know you’ve been through a lot.”

He seemed disturbed by her answer. It was as if shutters pulled down over his eyes. “Of course, Doctor. Thank you.” He looked away from her.

Hermione wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong, but she let it go. She needed to leave the hospital, perhaps get some breakfast and then return to start her rounds. He was safe for now and that was all that mattered. She had a ridiculous impulse to kiss him on the cheek, but allowed herself to squeeze his hand instead.

It was close on to Four PM when she felt something brush past her. She reached into her robe pocket and found a note.

“The supply closet at 4.” The note said.

Hermione developed a knot in her gut. Who and why meet in the supply closet? And she had a staff meeting at 4:15. All she needed to be was late for that! Hermione ran her fingers through her tangled hair for the twentieth time that day. Four PM came and she headed for the closet.

It was empty. She sighed and turned around.

“Oy, not so quick!”

Hermione turned around and her eyes widened. There was Ron’s head floating in the middle of the room.

“Ron! I can’t believe you left the Burrow. And when did you get back the invisibility cloak?”

“Me mum nicked it from you last night. Now, you can head off to your meeting as soon as you tell me, is the room across from here Snapes?”

“Yes, it’s directly across from this room. How did you? What is going on?”

“We don’t have a lot of time, I’ll explain later. This port key is set to 4:20 so you will have an alibi. The nurse should be checking on Snape any minute now. So I’ll go in the door then.”

“Who’s given you the schedule?”

Ron smiled. “I love the look on your face. Damn, should have brought a camera. Let’s just say that the Order still has a few connections and we won’t be letting our own down.”

“You hate Snape. And you came out! I’ve been trying for over a year to get you to leave the Burrow and finally you come out-- for him?” Hermione was starting to feel rather miffed.

“Well, it’s nice to be needed. And you never need anyone, do you? Right, you have to go now, just tell me one thing? Is that strawberry blonde nurse at the desk available?”

Hermione felt like she was losing her mind. “Her name’s Saffron and yes, she broke up with her beau five weeks ago.”

“Right-O. I’ll be back in about a week. Make sure she doesn’t meet anyone.” His head disappeared.

“Ron, no, you can’t leave me like this.”

“Sure, I can.” Came his voice from thin air. “The damn leg is itching like hell, but I can walk just fine, thank you. Don’t worry.l tal take good care of Snape. Give you the details later. Now, get that shirty look off your face and go to the staff meeting.”

She sensed him standing behind her and she opened the door wide. She then felt him move past her. There was no one in the corridor except for the nurse coming down the hall to enter Snape’s room. Hermione closed the closet behind her and hurried down to her meeting. Just amazing, she thought, it’s going to work. And then another thought took hold. She wouldn’t get to say goodbye to him. And she would probably never see him again. Thoroughly sobered by the thought, she walked through the door of the staff meeting room.

Snape watched the nurse leave. Gradually, he became aware of another presence in the room. Someone who wasn’t Hermione. Snape went pale.

“Who’s there?” he asked nervously.

“Relax, Snape. It’s time to leave,” said Ron taking a certain pleasure in the old bastard’s obvious fear.

“You are going to kill me?” He asked quietly.

“Don’t you wish? No, no, still it will be a new life for you. Far, far away from those who just don’t like you, Snape.”

Snape watched as a large man’s hand with ginger hair sprouting from the knuckles took hold of his own hand. There was a tugging sensation at his stomach and he felt a Portkey whisk him away.

They arrived with Snape falling flat on his arse and his hospital gown flying open. He looked over at the hand still holding his, which had failed to keep him from falling to the ground.

“You can let go now,” he said covering his privates with the gown.

“Sorry, Snape,” said the voice. Suddenly, Ron Weasley appeared in front of him, folding Potter’s old invisibility cloak.

Snape looked around him. They were in a bedroom in a very hot and humid place. It didn’t seem to be anyone’s home, though. The room just was rather too impersonal for anyone to be living there.

“Weasley.” He staggered as he tried to get to his feet. “Where have you taken me?”

“It’s a safe house in the States. It’s a stopping point before the next leg of the journey.”

“And how far are we going?” Snape sat on the bed, well aware that he was dressed in nothing more than a hospital gown. There was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” said Ron to Snape. “Who’s there?”

“Albatross.” Came a voice with a thick, American accent from outside.

Ron smiled to Snape. “That was the code word.” He opened the door and was handed a wrapped bundle. Ron opened the bundle and started to hand Snape clothing from it. Muggle clothing.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape attempted whatever dignity he could muster while putting on a pair of trousers. “Exactly what have you gotten me into?”

&&&

In the weeks that followed, Hermione was questioned numerous times by the Board of Directors, asking her if she knew where Snape was. At times she was afraid that they would have the Aurors in. But eventually the fervor died down. Ron only told her that Snape was safe, so she was able to truthfully answer “no” that she had no idea where he was.

She’d stopped going to the pub. She didn’t know exactly why, except that when she felt the urge to have sex she’d make up a story involving a certain ugly potions master twenty years her senior. Often her mind returned to the day when she had masturbated him and the look upon his face when he came.

Sometimes she would touch herself while thinking about meeting him on a distant, tropical shore.

She’d be walking a pink-sanded beach, dressed in nothing more than a bright floral print sarong with a huge exotic flower in her wild, tangled hair. She’d see him, either coming up out of the surf, skinny and naked as a jaybird, or other times she’d imagine him lying on the sand, covered with nothing more than a towel. There wasn’t anything particularly great about his body and yet just the thought of him made her nipples tighten and lubrication spring from between her legs.

In that idyllic seascape, she’d tell him that he needed protection against the sun. There would be a bottle of sun oil right there on the beach and she’s start rubbing him all over with it. The smell of the coconut oil and other foreign fragrances as she rubbed his body with her hands would ignite her. Eventually, she’d begin to touch her own body, her breasts and clitoris mostly, as she imagined and remembered the feel of his flesh. She wondered how it would be should she take his cock and trap it between her breasts, rubbing and gliding his long penis against her. Sometimes she’d imagine what it would be like to take him in her mouth and bring him to orgasm. She pretended that he tasted different from other men, sweeter and less salty.

She thought about his fingers and wondered if they ever had a second chance, would he press them up into her again?

With a loud sob, her body would convulse and then she’d turn over and fall asleep, clutching her pillow to her and sometimes even dreaming about him.

Life continued about the same as ever. She worked hard and the unpletnestness of Dr. Falco’s death drifted away. Still, not a day went by that she didn’t touch and bring herself off with the name “Severus” on her lips.


A/N: I want to thank all for their support. One chapter and one epilogue to go before the story is over. I send huge, huge hugs to my loyal readers and the wonderful reviewers who have stuck by me: WendyNat, LovesthePotionBoy, Linda, Demonic Angel, Idamae, Pauline, LittleBird, Booklvr, Deblovesdragon, ShagstheDustMop, XxphoenixX, Excessivelyperky, Influenza1918 and Amsev.