You Know What They Say about Necessity...

Another word from your author...


Gadzooks! I've realized that I've written *nine* chapters and it's only day two! Don't worry, later on there will be some "fast forwarding." I have to set the stage first, though.

Anyhoo, I'm sure you all knew this was coming. I don't want to ruin the details of the chapter, but I DO need to tyou you this. There will be a scene here, and you'll know it when you read it, where you might ask yourselves: "Why did Severus do that? What is he thinking about/remembering to make him act this way?" Well, you get a hint at it now, but you'll learn the full story when the time is right for me to write it. There is a movie that inspired my ideas for my version of the events leading up to the final battle. Twenty points to your house if you can guess what the movie is. (Hint: it is aror ror movie from the 70's.) You have a clue in that section. :-)

**I am replying to feedback in A/N's at the end of this chapter.**

Ok, enough of me rambling! On with the show!

Disclaimer: JKR owns it all, and I'm only borrowing while not making any money from it.

"Bad Moon Rising" is by CCR. Yes, I know it's a 70's song, but it was too perfect to pass up!



Chapter Nine: Bad Moon Rising

Hermione awokd std stretched, yawning as she glanced at the clock. Nine am! How had she managed to sleep so long? I guess I was more tired that I realized, she thought, rising to her feet and heading down the hall. Severus had not called for her during the night, and she wanted to be sure he was all right. She knocked softly on his door, not wanting to disturb him if he was asleep.

“Enter,” he called.

Hermione opened the door, smiling at a sight she would nevave ave thought she would see: Severus Snape looking disheveled. His long black hair was ruffled and there was a faint line of stubble on his chin. He needs to shave, she thought absently.

Severus, meanwhile, was staring at her in equal measure. She was confused at first, then realized how she must appear: bushy tangles of hair and silk pajamas. Oh. In her haste to check on him, she’d not thought to change. And here she was standing before him in her nightclothes! Well, it wasn’t like she was indecent.

“Good morning, Severus,” she said softly. “How do you feel?”

He snorted. “Feel? I feel, Hermione, as though I’ve been run down by the Knight Bus. I am in pain, hungry, and in need of the lavatory. So if you would be so good as to not just stand there and render some assistance?”

“Of course,” she answered, moving quickly to his side to help him into the wheelchair and take him into the bathroom. “Will that be all for now?”

“Fetch my shaving kit from the top drawer of my bureau.”

She hurried to the task, setting the small black leather bag on the sink where he wanted it. He nodded to her. “I will inform you when I am done.
“I will—” the words stuck in his throat for a moment— “I will want Potter’s assistance to get into the bath.”

“Of course.”

She left, closing the door behind her but leaving his bedroom door open so she could hear him. She quickly got her wand and cast a cleansing charm on herself, then changed into jeans and a blue t-shirt and settled down to wait in the hall, petting Crookshanks as she sat. Soon Harry’s door opened and Harry and Ginny came out, grinning at each other like lovesick puppies.

Harry looked at her. “Morning, Mione.”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. There was something about Harry that had always had that effect on her. “Good morning, you two.”

Ginny slipped down beside her, rubbed Crookshanks’ head and gave Hermione a hug. “Sleep all right?”

“I slept too well,” Hermione answered. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “And did either of you get any sleep last night?”

“Sleep? What’s that?” Harry asked.

“You know, that state of rest that we had about four hours of,” Ginny smirked.

Hermione shook her head. “You two are something.”

“How’s Snape?” Harry asked. “I don’t think I heard him stir all night.”

“I’t t’t think he did,” Hermione answered. “He never called for me, and I left my door open to make sure I’d hear him. He’s in the bathroom right now: he says he’ll want your help getting in the shower soon.”

Harry nodded. “Well, call to me when he’s ready. I’m going to start cooking up breakfast.” He reached down and tugged on Ginny’s hand. “You can help.”

“Thanks,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "If you wanted to be ill, I could have made dinner last night.” But she followed him down the hall, still holding his hand.

Hermione sighed. It was obvious that Harry and Ginny were going to be mooning over each other like fifth years this morning. Not that they didn’t deserve to be happy. But it was a visible reminder of her own loneliness. Well. She’d suck it up for their sake. She’d had to witness far worse things.

The sound of Severus calling to her broke her out of her thoughts. She moved to stand outside the bathroom door. “Yes?”

“Get Potter so that I may take a shower.”

“Right,” she called back, heading for the kitchen. Harry was scrambling eggs and preparing sausages. “He’s ready,” Hermione told him.

“Fine. Take over, ladies,” Harry said briskly as he left.

Hermione tended to the eggs while Ginny sliced up more sausages.

Finally Hermione’s curiosity got the better of her. “Ginny? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Ginny said, pausing in cutting the breakfast meat. “What?”

“How did it feel, when you and Harry… you know.”

“Sorry?” Ginny asked, eyebrows climbing. “What exactly do you mean, how did it feel?”

“I mean… was it all explosions and stars and insane passion?” Hermione couldn’t quite believe she was asking Ginny this, but something had been troubling her and she felt it wouldn’t go away without some outside input.

Ginny considered. “Well, it was very passionate, yes. I mean, I love Harry. I get silly just looking at him. I suppose that will fade in time, but right now I can’t imagine being any more ecstatic than this. Why?” Ginny questioned her friend gently.

Hermione bowed her head, struggling not to let any tears escape from her wet eyes. “I… I never…”

“You never felt that way about Ron,” Ginny finished.

Startled, Hermione looked up to see Ginny smiling at her. “Ginny… I’m so sorry, talking about your brother like this… I loved Ron, I swear I did…”

Ginny put down the knife she’d been holding and drew Hermione into an embrace. “I know you did sweetie,” she whispered. “He loved you, too. But it just didn’t click, did it? Not even when you made love.”

“He told you about that?” Hermione gasped.

“Not in so many words,” Ginny assured her. “Not directly. It was more of what he didn’t tell me that let me figure it out. Believe me, Hermione, Ron was as desperate to make it work as you were. But something was missing, some deeper connection.”

Hermione sniffed. “I’d thought maybe it was because we’d been friends for so long first. That’s why I asked about you and Harry…”

“It wasn’t your friendship that didn’t let it work,” Ginny said firmly. “You two are very different in some elemental ways. Ron’s all about Quiddich and strategy, and you’re all about books and learning. And while that was ok when you first got together, it left a gap in your hearts that kept getting wider and that the other person couldn’t fill.”

Hermione managed a laugh. “How on earth do you know so much about relationships?”

Ginny moved back and patted Hermione on the head. “Mum, of course.”


Snape sat by the bathtub in his wheelchair, waiting for Potter. He didn’t have to wait long, but even a minute was long enough for him to think. And the more he thought, the angrier he got.

It was so easy for Potter, wasn’t it? The big war hero. Never mind all the people like himself, who’d been working for years to rid the wizarding world of Voldemort. Along comes the Boy-Who-Lived, and the masses rejoiced. He was admired everywhere he went. Women constantly flirted with him: beautiful women, the kind of women that wouldn’t give Severus so much as a glance. And they giggled and sent him little gifts, hoping to catch his attention. Severus wondered where Miss Weasley would fit into the harem he was sure Potter had built for himself. Was she taking someone else’s place? Hermione’s, perhaps?

No, he frowned, that wasn’t right. Hermione had dated Ronald Weasley for over a year in school. She and Potter had only ever been friends, of that he was nearly certain. And Hermione and Weasley had ended it sometime in their seventh year, he seemed to recall. Odd, he’d heard nothing about her having a love interest since then, nor had she made mention that any young man would be calling upon her at the cottage. Unlike Potter, who apparently couldn’t wait to show off his trophies. Who would he bring over next? Snape mused.

The sound of footsteps in the bedroom made him grit his teeth. How cruel Fate was to him, to make him require the help of a Potter. When he was well again, he was going to search for a place where no one had the last name of Potter and tell Albus he was taking a vacation. A long vacation.

“I’m here, sir,” Harry said outside the bathroom door.

“Obviously,” Snape retorted. “Would you come in already, Potter? I would prefer to get something besides a shower accomplished today.”

Harry bit back a retort and went in. Snape scowled up at him. “Well?”

Harry slid his arms under Snape, lifting him. “I trust Miss Granger and Miss Weasley are watching over whatever excuse for a breakfast you are preparing?” Snape asked.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said tensely.

“Good. Perhaps it will not be a lost cause, then.” He grunted as Harry sat him on the stool none too gently. “Careful, Potter. I know I weigh a bit more than the women you’re used to sweeping off their feet, but you must mind what you’re doing. I would hate for you to drop me,” he said silkily, a mild warning in his tone.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “I would hate that as well… professor.” He left the bathroom and closed the door as loudly as possible, grinning at the sound of Snape muttering under his breath.

Once Snape was done and back in the wheelchair, Harry headed behind him for the dining room. The table was set for the four of them with Snape at the upper left corner. Snape had refused to let Harry push him, and now he was feeling the results of his stubbornness. He made a mental note to begin weightlifting as soon as possible with his arms to build the strength back up. He’d be damned if Harry Potter was going to push him around in a wheelchair for the next few months.

Hermione and Ginny came out carrying platters of food. “Good morning, professor,” Ginny greeted Snape.

“Miss Weasley,” he acknowledged. “I trust you were able to find the lavatory all right earlier this morning?” his eyes bore into hers.

She blushed faintly but answered readily. “Yes, sir. Did I wake you? I apologize…”

He waved a hand. “I was already awake, Miss Weasley. Had you been responsible for stirring me from slumber, I would most assuredly have let you know in short order.”

“I’m sure you would’ve,” Harry muttered, helping set the food on the table while Hermione went back into the kitchen to get tea and juice.

“Mister Potter, I did not approve of your sarcastic remarks during school: I fail to understand why you would think I approve of them now,” Snape told him, his tone icy.

“Funny, Professor Snape, but I don’t believe I gave a damn then, and I fail to understand why you would think I give a damn now,” Harry retorted.

“Harry!” Ginny protested. “Professor Snape is not well.”

“I am not so unwell that I cannot defend myself, Miss Weasley,” Snape told her irately.

“And you certainly aren’t so bloody unwell that you can’t start a fight,” Harry added.

Hermione came in and stopped a few feet away from the table, registering the stormy turn of events with growing unease.

“Who wants pumpkin juice?” she called loudly.

Harry gave Snape a final glare before pulling out Ginny’s chair and then sitting down next to her. “I would, please, Mione.”

She quickly poured juice for everyone, then sat the teapot near her on the table as they all began to eat in stony silence. After a few minutes, Snape looked up from his plate.

“An excellent job, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, and Ginny murmured a thank you as well.

“I am relieved you did not leave us in the dubious hands of Mister Potter again,” Snape added. “Food should, after all, be edible if not pleasing.”

“If you don’t like my cooking, there are some lovely shrubs in the garden,” Harry suggested sweetly.

“I imagined I would save those for supper, Potter,” Snape answered scathingly. “Unless, of course, that will be what you’re cooking for our supper.”

“And here I thought overgrown bats needed blood to stay alive,” Harry shot back.

“That is enough out of you, Potter!” Snape hissed.

“It was enough out of you half an hour ago!” Harry spat.

“Stop it, both of you!” Hermione snapped. “Ginny is a guest here. Where are your manners!”

“Quite so, Miss Granger,” Snape said coolly. “We wouldn’t want to make Mister Potter look bad in front of an... admirer.”

Hermione gasped. Harry went pale and was out of his chair in an instant, jerking Snape’s wheelchair around to stand in front of it and clamping a hand on each chair arm while he leaned down and looked at Snape. His knuckles turned white and his eyes blazed with fury.

“Listen to me, you piece of Slytherin scum. If you want to call me names and insult me—fine. I can take whatever you want to dish out. But if you ever—ever—say anything about Ginny again, you are going to be very, very sorry.” His eyes burned into Snape’s. “Do you understand me, professor?”

The look on Potter’s face was one Snape had seen twice before: once when he’d stopped Potter from cursing Draco at the close of fifth year, and once while he and Harry had been prisoners of Voldemort. There were few things Severus Snape had any fear of. Voldemort had been one. Harry Potter in the grip of madness, magical powers in an uncontrollable raging overdrive, had been another. Severus had no wish to stir up things that had long laid dormant in Potter. It could prove fatal in more ways than one.

“Perfectly, Potter,” he replied calmly. Snape turned to look at Ginny. “My apologies, Miss Weasley. I did not mean to insult you. Doubtless it is time for me to take some medication: my pain shortens the reigns on my temper.”

Ginny managed to nod. “I understand, sir.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “I do need to be heading back to the Burrow, though. Harry, would you please come with me to the fireplace?”

Slowly, as though somehow expecting Snape to jump after him, Harry withdrew from the potions master and straightened. “Of course, Ginny,” he said. Glancing at Hermione, Harry walked out with his lover.

They had been gone for a few minutes when Hermione could not take the silence any longer. She rounded on Snape. “Are you pleased with yourself?” she ground out.

“Surely you aren’t suggesting that any of this was my fault,” Severus protested.

“I most certainly am,” Hermione retorted. “You started all this, I know you did.”

“Your faith in me is touching,” Severus sneered.

“I know Harry,” she answered angrily. “I know him well enough to know that he doesn’t start things like this.”

“But he can certainly finish them,” Severus murmured. "Or do you think him such an angel that he can do no wrong?"

“I’m not saying he’s blameless, Severus," Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Because he's not. But you—why do you have to attack him all the time? Why can’t you let the past rest?”

“There is no rest for me as long as there is a Potter in my existence,” Severus answered bitterly.

“Because you make it that way,” she argued. “Severus… why won’t you just let it go?”

“The past is not an easy or forgiving master, Hermione,” he sighed.

“Quite true, Severus,” came a voice from the kitchen.

They both turned in surprise as Dumbledore walked into the dining room carrying a cup. He poured himself some tea and smiled. “Now, children, do tell me why Miss Weasley left here looking so upset, and why Harry is calling Severus some rather unpleasant names to no one in particular, hmm?”


AUTHOR'S NOTES, PART 2: replies to feedback.

Persia: Thank you! I don't think I could handle that discussion, either. Not w/o wanting to throw him down and ravish him! I appreciate your reviews a lot!

Mary Brigid: Yes, I know not everyone likes Harry, or Harry/Ginny for that matter. But I'm afraid that I do, and there will be a bit more of that at some point. There *will* be some reading aloud very soon, but not of Roth. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and thanks for reviewing.

Shiro Ryu: I appreciate that! Lots more to come, so stay tuned.

Sabrina: Thank you for all your kind reviews! I'm glad you enjoy the story.

Mariteri: Yes, I listed this story as NC-17, and I did so for a good reason: THERE WILL BE SMUT! But this is going to be a VERY long story. Furthermore, as everyone has figured out by now, the relationship with Hermione and Severus is going to take TIME. I have written a lot, but this is only the second day they're together. If you're looking for a story where they're shagging each other senseless within the first few chapters, this story is not for you. As the author I do not feel that I can write this story and these characters that way and stay true to my vision of the story and how their characters are. I didn't get too explicit with the Harry/Ginny smut because that's not what I wanted to do at the time. There probably will be some detailed Harry/Ginny later, when I feel it's the right time to include it. And when Hermione and Severus get to that point, t wil will be plenty of lemons with them. I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but that's not the way this story will be. I appreciate your review.