You Know What They Say about Necessity...

A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers, you make writing more enjoyable! "What's New, Pussycat?" is by Tom Jones.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all of Harry Potter and company. I borrow for love, not money.


Chapter Seven: What's New, Pussycat?

Hermione wheeled Snape to his bed, and was about to help him transfer when he made a face of pure agony.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, panicking slightly. “Are you in pain again already?”

“No,” he snarled, hands clenching and unclenching for a few seconds while he seemed to wage an inner battle. A moment later, a small sigh escaped his lips.

“Well?” she demanded, hands on hips. “What was that all about?”

Snape’s expression changed from painful to petulant. “My casts itched,” he answered.

Hermione was almost successful at hiding her smile.

“I’m glad I amuse you so much, Miss Granger,” he said, glaring at her.

“Sorry, sir,” she apologized. “I’d forgotten that will happen.”

“A luxury I do not have, unfortunately,” he replied wryly.

She helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him despite him protesting that he could do that himself. “Or do you just enjoy tucking me in?” he quipped.

“It’s one of my mediwitch specialties,” she said, her voice as innocent as she could make it.

“Then I suppose I must not interfere with the practice of your duties, must I, Miss Granger?”

“Hermione.”

He stared. “What?”

“My name is Hermione, you know. I’m not a student any more; you can use my name.”

Snape looked down at his hands, as though suddenly finding something very intereg abg about them. “I see,” he said at length.

“You don’t have to, I just thought…” he glanced up to see her chewing lightly on her lower lip. “I just thought I’d offer,” she said finally. “I get so tired of being proper sometimes.”

“That seems at odds with the Miss Granger I remember from school,” he said.

Her brown eyes darkened. “The Miss Granger you remember from school was also a show-off who couldn’t stand being wrong or not knowing an answer. I’ve been out of school for three years now, sir. I have changed.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “So now it doesn’t bother you if you do not know the answer to a question?”

“Oh, that still bothee,” e,” she grinned. “But I’m no longer a show-off.”

If he was amused, he kept it from showing in his face.

“I’ll leave you to your rest now, sir,” she told him, and was about to turn away when he spoke.

“Hermione.”

She froze, shocked. She hadn’t expected him to take her up on the offer to use her name. She tried to appear casual. “Yes, sir?”

Now that she was waiting, he floundered in what he wanted to say. She stood beside him at the bed, patient, her cinnamon eyes looking directly into his obsidian ones for a moment before sliding to the blankets.

“I would not wish for anyone to make improper assumptions about us,” he told her. “However… when we are alone, I see no reason that we cannot address each other by name.”

“Are you sure that isn’t your medication talking, sir?” she couldn’t resist teasing.

“If it is, I expect you will simply give me more until I concede permanently,” he rejoined deprecatingly. “I would prefer to use my energy for other pursuits than arguing that point with you.”

She laughed. “You really can turn anything around to justify yourself, can’t you?”

She thought she might have gone too far with the impulsive comment, but to her relief he gave her a faint smile. “Such is the Slytherin way.”

She inclined her head. “Well, then. I shall go now. Call me if you need anything… Severus.” How strange to say his name. It flowed off her tongue like honey, or liquid silver. Funny, she’d never stopped to think before of how beautiful that name was.

“Actually, if you would not mind…"

“Yes?”

Again he felt the hesitation. He was a proud man. He was also (and he hated to admit it even to himself) lonely. He knew everyone assumed he stayed isolated in the dungeons out of choice: assumed he hated people and wanted nothing to do with others. In some ways these weren’t incorrect beliefs. He was a loner, but it was partly because after years of no one wanting his company he’d learned to accept it, to turn it around so that it seemed like he was thumbing his nose at the world instead of vice versa. Only Albus and Minerva had made any effort to know the person behind the sneer.

And now here was Miss Granger… Hermione… who not only didn’t run away from him as soon as possible, but seemed to enjoy being around him. It was an odd concept, and in truth he did not really know how he felt about it. But at that moment, in a state of restless exhaustion, he knew that he wasn’t quite ready to be alone. The problem lay in getting her to stay without making it seem like he was asking her not to leave. As his mind turned over the possibilities he had an idea.

“I am somewhat interested,” he drawled, “as to what your final examination project will be for healing. You stated earlier that you have specialized in potions: did you choose this for your project as well?”

“Yes, I did,” she said.

He waved one hand casually at the edge of the bed as he carefully scooted over slightly. “Do sit down, Hermione, unless you wish to cause me neck strain to go along with my broken limbs?”

“No,” Hermione replied, cautiously sitting on the side of the bed near his knees.

“Good. Now, tell me of your endeavor.”

She glanced down for a moment.

“Is there some reason you do not wish to discuss it with me?” he felt a twinge of concern. Had he misread her? Did she, perhaps, not enjoy his company as he had thought she seemed to? Before he could ask another question she spoke, her voice so quiet he had to strain to hear her.

“I’m going to work on a potion that will nullify the Letum Savium.”

Severus knew there had been other times in his life when he’d been stunned, but they were few and far between. And he currently couldn’t recall a single one of them so great was his surprise at her words. Nearly a full minute passed before he could speak.

“The Kiss of Death already has a cure, Hermione.”

She snorted. “A potion whose ingredients are so unstable the potion only has a shelf life of a week, which takes three months to brew and another three to take effect? Excuse my language, but that’s a bloody pathetic cure if you ask me.”

He failed to completely suppress his smile. “Under the current circumstances, I would have to agree with you.”

“There’s got to be another way. I have some theories… I know it may take years, but… it’s better than not trying, isn’t it?”

“A very Gryffindor thing to say,” he replied mildly.

She smiled, taking it as a compliment rather than an insult. “So… that’s what I’m going to work on. I can keep you informed about my progress, if you’re interested…”

“I would like that,” he said softly.

She nodded, looking down at her lap. Why was she suddenly nervous? She chastised herself for her reaction. She was just sitting and having a simple conversation about a potion with Severus, and now she felt like a dozen butterflies were taking flight in her stomach…

Oh. Oh, my.

No. She wasn’t… it couldn’t…

“Hermione?”

She jerked her head up at the sound of her name to see him studying her with an expression of concern. “Are you all right? You seem unwell.”

“No, no, I’m fine, Severus” she replied, hearing the slightly breathless quality in her voice and praying that he didn’t. “But I really should let you get some sleep now.”

He nodded. “I am sure you could do with some rest as well. It has been… a long day.”

She smiled. “Yes, it has.” She rose and went to the door, turning back to look at him. “Please call me if you nenythnything.”

“Would you mind to bring me a glass of pumpkin juice?” he asked. “I usually keep some sitting by my bed in case I get thirsty during the night.”

She nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” She was so preoccupied with the sudden turn her thoughts had taken she scarcely noticed how polite his request had been. She left the room and closed the door behind her just as Harry was stepping into the hall and closing the door to his bedroom.

“There you are!” Harry whispered. “I was about to send in the Cavalry. Mione? Are you ok?” he frowned. She seemed a bit pale.

“Yes, I’m fine, just getting the professor some juice,” she replied softly. “And what are you doing?” she countered with a grin, hoping to distract him.

“Getting some erm… dessert from the kitchen,” Harry replied evasively.

“Mm-hmm. Come on, then.” Hermione tugged on his hand and they headed for the kitchen together.

Hermione poured a glass of juice for Severus and watched as Harry filled a small bowl with strawberries, then poked about in the fridge. “Now I know I asked for some… should be here somewhere… a-ha!” he exclaimed quietly.

Hermione blinked. “Chocolate syrup?”

Harry spun about, looking as though he wished he’d come into the kitchen alone. “Well, we wanted some strawberries, and chocolate and strawberries are good together so I figured…”

“Stop right there, Harry Potter,” Hermione groaned. “Those of us with no sex life don’t want to potentially hear about someone else’s.”

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly. “But you know it’s not like I’ve been some Don Juan.”

“I know,” she replied softly. In truth, Ginny was the only girl Harry had taken any interest in since Hogwarts. Or even since Cho Chang, now that Hermione thought about it. Maybe he’d loved Ginny all along and just not realized it until now. But how on earth could you love someone and not know it?

“Mione, I hate to ask you, but… could you tend to Snape tonight if he needs anything? I mean, if it’s something you can help with? If he falls of course I’ll help him, I just…”

“I understand, Harry,” Hermione smiled. “Of course I will.”

“Thanks!” Harry beamed, kissing her cheek. “Come on, you don’t want to keep Snape waiting.”

But when Hermione returned with the juice, Severus was fast asleep. He didn’t stir when she put the glass down, which would’ve been unusual were it not for the fact that he’d been taking painkillers. She studied his face, so relaxed and peaceful, and felt another funny twinge in her stomach. She reached out a hand towards his face, her fingers stopping only an inch away as she realized what she was doing. Slowly she withdrew her hand.

“Sleep well, Severus,” she whispered.

She turned and left, unaware of two dark eyes snapping open as she closed the door.

Hermione returned to the library long enough to get her book, then went to her bedroom, changing into a set of crimson silk pajamas and tucking her wand under her pillow. She opened the book up, but when she tried to concentrate on the words, all she could see was Severus’ face. Aft few few minutes she closed the book in irritation. Why on earth was she thinking about him? It wasn’t as though they were friends, or even friendly until now. Harry and Ron had always despised him, and while she hadn’t always agreed with their reasons, she knew the potions master did have his nasty cruel moments. Like when he said he saw no difference in her teeth. What an awful thing to say to a fourteen year old! She had half a mind to demand an explanation from him for that. And yet, he was …

“Rubbish!” she whispered angrily. “That’s quite enough of that, Hermione Jane Granger. You will go to sleep and stop this nonsense at once!”

And she did turn off her light, and she did fall asleep. But not before having to push away thoughts of his deep silken voice, and how it had sounded as he said her name.