A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
68
Views:
21,220
Reviews:
86
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
68
Views:
21,220
Reviews:
86
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter fandom and its contents. I do not. I make no money from this fiction.
Progress
All characters and some storyline themes belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no $$ from the writing of this fic. Thanks to JK Rowling and my beta Stephanie, aka VIVAvivacious, for allowing my stories to be the best they can.
After the initial exhilaration of regaining the ability to move, Severus Snape sank into a horrid mood. Being unable to move for over six months had taken its toll upon his once-fit physique, and he was left feeling as helpless as a newborn babe.
The physical therapy was torture. He refused to work with anyone else, at first, except Hermione. In his mind, there was no point in humiliating himself in front of the entire hospital staff. He even refused to be moved from the room until he was more functional than his current state.
That didn’t stop his sharp tongue from biting into Miss Granger when he was hurting, though, which seemed like all the time, these days. The physical therapy sapped a lot of her strength, and she had to cut out the twice-a-shift massages down to one. At least the damned convulsions were gone; now, all he had to contend with were horrid charley horses in every single part of his body. He gritted his teeth and tried not to complain, but goddamn it! It fucking hurt just as bad as any extended Cruciatus session. He internally cursed the Dark Lord for this unending suffering.
Despite his complaining, Hermione was a tough, but gentle and patient taskmaster as she pushed him further than he was willing to go each day. He longed to beg for a reprieve, but was too prideful and stubborn to admit when he was exhausted. Hermione banked on that hardheaded determination to get him through this recovery period, and she was right. Within seven weeks, he was walking, albeit with a cane, but by Merlin’s long tooth, he was able to get around the room with minimal human assistance.
Dr. Nitwit did nothing for his temper, either, flapping his arms and taking all the credit for his “remarkable, incredible, unprecedented recovery.”
He hated the smug bastard, and tried to trip him with the cane every chance he got. He even started to sit by the door for short periods of time, just to see if he could catch the slimy worm as he walked by. Severus had observed the sly fucker making subtle moves on not only Hermione and Deidre, but other young nurses as well, who lingered in the hallway outside his door to chat with his nurses. Oh, to be sure, the covert moves looked innocent enough. That is, unless you knew what you were looking for, having been in the company of similar sly bastards in the past. An arm around the waist here, leaning over a little too far when looking at paperwork there, eyes lingering on the chest, and then meeting their gaze when they looked up from a patient or paperwork, that sort of thing.
He was watching, oh, yes. He was just waiting for the repulsive, illegitimate git to slip up so he could hang him by the balls. Severus Snape had never hated anyone as much as this man was getting under his skin. He kind of reminded him of Sirius Black, but at least that scum Black had the balls to go for what he was after. Dr. Nitwit was the kind of pond scum to slink and slither along, running with his tail between his legs at the mere hint of danger. Oh yes, he knew this type, all too well.
He tried to warn Hermione and Deidre. During one of their physical therapy sessions, Deidre was training with Hermione to assist the Professor for the eventuality of needing to move about during the daytime as well. He confronted them about the doctor’s behavior.
“Do enjoy that putrid toad's hands on you, Miss Granger?” he bit out of nowhere. “It makes me nauseated, the way he mauls you and Miss Donnelly every time he’s in the room. He’s just waiting for his chance to pull one of you into the broom closet for a quick, hard shag, when no one is looking. I’d love to cast a spell on him; turn him into a pikey uphill gardener. Then, I’d Portkey his arse to a nancy, all-leather pub, naked.” He did his best to look sternly at each of the ladies.
Hermione regarded him for a moment while stretching out one of his calves. “Professor, I’ve told you before, call me Hermione. I haven’t been ‘Miss Granger’ since I was in school. Besides, I don’t know what you mean. Brian has never been anything other than completely professional with me.” Hermione chanced a quick peek at Deidre, who was trying not to laugh under her hair while kneading the Professor’s other calf. She only shook her head in response. The girls gently stretched the muscles a little more, incorporating some massage techniques to try and keep the charley horses at bay.
“Oh, now we’re calling the Brainless Wonder, Brian? That is just craptacular, Hermione,” he emphasized her first name with a sneer, “that you and Brian are on a first name basis all of a sudden. I wouldn’t think you would be the type to fraternize with a randy, pig-nosed poof, Hermione.”
She had switched to his thigh, pulling and kneading out the knots there, while Deidre mirrored her technique, working on the opposite side, cleverly keeping her mouth shut. Hermoine gave an exasperated sigh.
“Professor–” she began.
“Severus,” he interrupted.
“What?” He had caught her off guard.
“As long as we are all now on a first name basis,” he nodded to Deidre as well to include her in the sentiment, “you shall call me Severus, if I am to call you Hermione and Deidre.” His tone left no room to brook an argument.
“Fine, Severus,” she emphasized back at him. “I’ve been working with Brian nonstop for the past eight months with no break, no days off, and nowhere to sleep except on a cot in a large room, with only a sheet for privacy. You get to know your coworkers when being in that close proximity. Besides, I don’t understand where this irrational hatred for the man comes from. I swear, you seem to just want to be a grumpy arsehole for the sake of it, Severus.”
Hermione urged him to stand up again, his legs shaking and trembling from the strain of already having gone through this routine twice this evening. Deidre kept him steady on one side, with Hermione on the other.
“We can stop, if you’re tired,” she began, but he cut her off again.
“No, Miss Granger – Hermione, we will continue until I am no longer able to stand. I, for one, do not plan to spend the rest of my godforsaken existence in this rot of a room. For your information, I once brought a student of mine to St. Mungo’s, when I was just beginning to teach, and that dipshit nearly killed the lad and ruined my career. That, and I can tell he is a lecherous oaf who has no respect for you, or any of the other young women working here. Trust me, Hermione, I can see the way he looks at you and Deidre, and it is not professional in any way. Stay as far away from him as you possibly can, unless you absolutely have to. That man reeks of dirty old bastard.”
Hermione eyeballed him with a puzzled expression on her face and rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve had way too much time on your hands, Professor. If it makes you feel better, I will watch myself around Brian, but do me a favor, and quit bitching about him all the time. You sound like my gran.”
Deidre giggled at this remark, and the girls squealed as he smacked their legs with his cane, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward on unsteady legs. Hermione and Deidre both caught him just before they all hit the floor with an undignified, “whumph”. All three burst out into laughter, unable to stem the tide of mirth that flowed freely. His deep baritone blended with Hermione’s delightful alto and Deidre’s lilting soprano, resounding off the hollow walls, and down the empty corridor. Severus leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Besides, I think he’s jealous you ladies have got your hands all over me every day and night, and it gives him the worst case of blue balls this end of Great Britain!”
Hermione huffed at him, this time in indignation, and boxed his ears quite soundly before untangling herself from under his posterior and helping him into the bed. Deidre merrily pinched his cheek, planting a kiss firmly upon it.
Severus put up with Hermione’s little tantrum, pleased by her maddening efforts to keep his temper under control. He tried furiously not to blush when Deidre planted her kiss upon his cheek; the two young ladies didn’t realize, they were the only ones he had allowed to see his flirtatious side in a very long time. Unbeknownst to all parties, a change of another sort was upon them, one Hermione could not have predicted.
After the initial exhilaration of regaining the ability to move, Severus Snape sank into a horrid mood. Being unable to move for over six months had taken its toll upon his once-fit physique, and he was left feeling as helpless as a newborn babe.
The physical therapy was torture. He refused to work with anyone else, at first, except Hermione. In his mind, there was no point in humiliating himself in front of the entire hospital staff. He even refused to be moved from the room until he was more functional than his current state.
That didn’t stop his sharp tongue from biting into Miss Granger when he was hurting, though, which seemed like all the time, these days. The physical therapy sapped a lot of her strength, and she had to cut out the twice-a-shift massages down to one. At least the damned convulsions were gone; now, all he had to contend with were horrid charley horses in every single part of his body. He gritted his teeth and tried not to complain, but goddamn it! It fucking hurt just as bad as any extended Cruciatus session. He internally cursed the Dark Lord for this unending suffering.
Despite his complaining, Hermione was a tough, but gentle and patient taskmaster as she pushed him further than he was willing to go each day. He longed to beg for a reprieve, but was too prideful and stubborn to admit when he was exhausted. Hermione banked on that hardheaded determination to get him through this recovery period, and she was right. Within seven weeks, he was walking, albeit with a cane, but by Merlin’s long tooth, he was able to get around the room with minimal human assistance.
Dr. Nitwit did nothing for his temper, either, flapping his arms and taking all the credit for his “remarkable, incredible, unprecedented recovery.”
He hated the smug bastard, and tried to trip him with the cane every chance he got. He even started to sit by the door for short periods of time, just to see if he could catch the slimy worm as he walked by. Severus had observed the sly fucker making subtle moves on not only Hermione and Deidre, but other young nurses as well, who lingered in the hallway outside his door to chat with his nurses. Oh, to be sure, the covert moves looked innocent enough. That is, unless you knew what you were looking for, having been in the company of similar sly bastards in the past. An arm around the waist here, leaning over a little too far when looking at paperwork there, eyes lingering on the chest, and then meeting their gaze when they looked up from a patient or paperwork, that sort of thing.
He was watching, oh, yes. He was just waiting for the repulsive, illegitimate git to slip up so he could hang him by the balls. Severus Snape had never hated anyone as much as this man was getting under his skin. He kind of reminded him of Sirius Black, but at least that scum Black had the balls to go for what he was after. Dr. Nitwit was the kind of pond scum to slink and slither along, running with his tail between his legs at the mere hint of danger. Oh yes, he knew this type, all too well.
He tried to warn Hermione and Deidre. During one of their physical therapy sessions, Deidre was training with Hermione to assist the Professor for the eventuality of needing to move about during the daytime as well. He confronted them about the doctor’s behavior.
“Do enjoy that putrid toad's hands on you, Miss Granger?” he bit out of nowhere. “It makes me nauseated, the way he mauls you and Miss Donnelly every time he’s in the room. He’s just waiting for his chance to pull one of you into the broom closet for a quick, hard shag, when no one is looking. I’d love to cast a spell on him; turn him into a pikey uphill gardener. Then, I’d Portkey his arse to a nancy, all-leather pub, naked.” He did his best to look sternly at each of the ladies.
Hermione regarded him for a moment while stretching out one of his calves. “Professor, I’ve told you before, call me Hermione. I haven’t been ‘Miss Granger’ since I was in school. Besides, I don’t know what you mean. Brian has never been anything other than completely professional with me.” Hermione chanced a quick peek at Deidre, who was trying not to laugh under her hair while kneading the Professor’s other calf. She only shook her head in response. The girls gently stretched the muscles a little more, incorporating some massage techniques to try and keep the charley horses at bay.
“Oh, now we’re calling the Brainless Wonder, Brian? That is just craptacular, Hermione,” he emphasized her first name with a sneer, “that you and Brian are on a first name basis all of a sudden. I wouldn’t think you would be the type to fraternize with a randy, pig-nosed poof, Hermione.”
She had switched to his thigh, pulling and kneading out the knots there, while Deidre mirrored her technique, working on the opposite side, cleverly keeping her mouth shut. Hermoine gave an exasperated sigh.
“Professor–” she began.
“Severus,” he interrupted.
“What?” He had caught her off guard.
“As long as we are all now on a first name basis,” he nodded to Deidre as well to include her in the sentiment, “you shall call me Severus, if I am to call you Hermione and Deidre.” His tone left no room to brook an argument.
“Fine, Severus,” she emphasized back at him. “I’ve been working with Brian nonstop for the past eight months with no break, no days off, and nowhere to sleep except on a cot in a large room, with only a sheet for privacy. You get to know your coworkers when being in that close proximity. Besides, I don’t understand where this irrational hatred for the man comes from. I swear, you seem to just want to be a grumpy arsehole for the sake of it, Severus.”
Hermione urged him to stand up again, his legs shaking and trembling from the strain of already having gone through this routine twice this evening. Deidre kept him steady on one side, with Hermione on the other.
“We can stop, if you’re tired,” she began, but he cut her off again.
“No, Miss Granger – Hermione, we will continue until I am no longer able to stand. I, for one, do not plan to spend the rest of my godforsaken existence in this rot of a room. For your information, I once brought a student of mine to St. Mungo’s, when I was just beginning to teach, and that dipshit nearly killed the lad and ruined my career. That, and I can tell he is a lecherous oaf who has no respect for you, or any of the other young women working here. Trust me, Hermione, I can see the way he looks at you and Deidre, and it is not professional in any way. Stay as far away from him as you possibly can, unless you absolutely have to. That man reeks of dirty old bastard.”
Hermione eyeballed him with a puzzled expression on her face and rolled her eyes. “I think you’ve had way too much time on your hands, Professor. If it makes you feel better, I will watch myself around Brian, but do me a favor, and quit bitching about him all the time. You sound like my gran.”
Deidre giggled at this remark, and the girls squealed as he smacked their legs with his cane, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward on unsteady legs. Hermione and Deidre both caught him just before they all hit the floor with an undignified, “whumph”. All three burst out into laughter, unable to stem the tide of mirth that flowed freely. His deep baritone blended with Hermione’s delightful alto and Deidre’s lilting soprano, resounding off the hollow walls, and down the empty corridor. Severus leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Besides, I think he’s jealous you ladies have got your hands all over me every day and night, and it gives him the worst case of blue balls this end of Great Britain!”
Hermione huffed at him, this time in indignation, and boxed his ears quite soundly before untangling herself from under his posterior and helping him into the bed. Deidre merrily pinched his cheek, planting a kiss firmly upon it.
Severus put up with Hermione’s little tantrum, pleased by her maddening efforts to keep his temper under control. He tried furiously not to blush when Deidre planted her kiss upon his cheek; the two young ladies didn’t realize, they were the only ones he had allowed to see his flirtatious side in a very long time. Unbeknownst to all parties, a change of another sort was upon them, one Hermione could not have predicted.