Chapter Five: Fever

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Chapter Five: Fever

Hermione drifted on a cloud of sated sexuality for the rest of the day. Ron and Harry eyed her curiously, wondering if the whole "dateless and desperate" situation had finally driven her over the edge. Headmistress McGonagall was heard to comment at lunch that, "Miss Granger appeared a little out of sorts."

She avoided looking in the direction of the staff table at dinner, knowing she would surely give herself away if she were to catch Severus's eye. Successfully managing to negotiate the meal without betraying her inner feelings, she stood to leave. And saw him. There he was, standing at the staff table about to leave, all buttoned up and looking as stiff and unyielding as ever. Yet, only that morning, she had taken him in her hand and unleashed his passion as he had unlocked hers. She flushed as he briefly met her gaze, the intensity of his holding her pinned and breathless for several long moments.

Across the table, Harry studied his best friend's expression. There was only one word for it. Passion. He followed the direction of her eyes and found Snape staring equally as heatedly at Hermione. Shaking his head in disbelief, he decided he had shared too many Weasley's Special Chocolates with Ginny and was hallucinating. No-one would associate passion with either Snape or his bookish friend. Not in a million years. Never. It was patently ridiculous. On this reassuring thought, he put his curiosity aside and went off in search of Ginny. He was wasting perfectly good snogging time.

Hermione's mood altered drastically within a few hours. The sneezing of the previous day had returned, accompanied by muscle aches, bone-deep fatigue, and a raging fever. She took herself off to bed, not even contemplating a trip to the library. The thought of the walk to the infirmary to see Madam Pomfrey was far too difficult to consider, and it was a measure of how ill she felt that it did not occur to her to ask Harry to fetch the nurse. Sleep was fitful at best and, once a dry cough and sore throat developed, Hermione knew this was not something a simple dose of Pepperup would cure.

Miserable, she slowly dressed and dragged herself out of her room the next morning, intent on at least letting Severus know she was sick, then returning to her bed. She did not get very far. Collapsing onto the cold stone floor of the corridor, she was discovered two hours later by her classmates, delirious and dehydrated.

***

Severus's entrance into the Potions class later that morning was a fine display of temper. After the incredible experience shared with Hermione the previous day, he had been disappointed when she had not arrived at the library the previous evening, dismayed when she had not appeared at the Quidditch pitch at dawn, and despairing when she had even missed breakfast. Had she finally realised her folly in her pursuit of a sour teacher who was twenty years her senior? Was she at this very moment regretting his touch? His life, which had just begun to show promise of a future, had come crashing back to reality. So engrossed was he in his negative ruminations that, for a few minutes, he did not notice Harry Potter standing in front of his desk, anxiously awaiting acknowledgement.

"What is it, Potter? Cannot understand simple instructions? Can you not just look over Miss Granger's shoulder as you usually do?" he barked, then noticed Hermione was not in the classroom. "Where is Miss Granger?" he demanded.

"That's what I wanted to tell you, sir. She is in the hospital wing. She collapsed this morning in the corridor. Madam Pomfrey said she was very ill and would be off class for a week or two. Wizarding Fever, I think she said." Harry gaped as Snape dashed out of the classroom, without so much as warning the seventh-years to behave. "What the...?" he exclaimed softly; then his eyes narrowed in speculation.

***

"Where is she, Poppy? Where is Hermione... I mean Miss Granger?" he corrected himself, hoping the astute witch didn't notice his slip-up.

"Relax, Severus. Hermione is very ill, but she will be all right. She will have very high fevers for a week or two and a persistent cough, but with the correct potions and plenty of rest she should come through it unscathed. She is through here." She ushered him through to a small, separate room where a pale and wan young woman was sleeping, a sheen of sweat on her features.

He strode to the bed and tenderly took her hand in his. "Look after her, Poppy. She means everything to me," he whispered, knowing as he spoke that he had revealed his heart to the older woman. She now had the power to destroy his career, and his witch's reputation, if she so chose.

Poppy studied the dark man before her intently. He had been under her care so many times since his first year at Hogwarts. She had tended to his cuts and bruises after his scuffles with the Marauders too many times to count, had nursed him back to fitness after several illnesses, including his own bout of Wizarding Fever, and cared for him while he had convalesced after his nearly fatal snakebite. She knew he was a good man, but one who had shielded his innermost thoughts and feelings tightly for far too long. The connection between these two must be powerful, indeed, for him to have let Hermione past his defences.

"Severus, rest assured it will not be me who brings your relationship to anyone's notice. She has been calling for you in her delirium. Luckily, there has been no-one else around to hear her, and I have now placed Silencing charms on this room. I don't know how you two found each other, but I am more pleased than you can know that you have found someone to love." She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder, comforting him as she always had when he was a young boy. He covered her hand with his and bowed his head in gratitude.

Love. Could it be? A warm, safe feeling overwhelmed him as he contemplated the possibility. Love, returned for once in his life. The young witch asleep on the bed could not know how precious a gift she had bestowed upon him. He blinked hard as he turned to the nurse. "Thank you, Poppy. I... we appreciate your understanding."

With that, she gently guided him out of the room. "You need to return to your class; they will be wondering where you have disappeared to. She will be asleep all day with the potions I have administered to her anyway. Come back after dinner; I will ensure you are not disturbed."

Nodding his acceptance and gratitude for her wisdom, Severus returned to his classroom, to find the class, surprisingly quiet, reading their texts. Potter stood as he entered the room. "I realised you must have needed to find out which potions Madam Pomfrey would need for Hermione, sir, so I thought we should look them up in our texts. We would like to help, if we can," he explained in a respectful tone Severus had never realised could emanate from the boy.

"Er, thank you, Potter. That was very thoughtful. I suggest you all turn to page 347 of your texts for the instructions on the Willowbark Infusion. It is not a difficult potion, but one your friend will need in some quantity in order to aid her recovery. Take care to slice the willow bark very finely to facilitate the steeping process. The stirring in this potion is critical; you must alternate eight clockwise stirs with three counterclockwise. That, and the addition of ginger and elder flowers into the moon dew distillation, is what sets this potion apart from Muggle aspirin." The students stood, stunned that Snape had actually explained something clearly and concisely. However, once they had recovered from the shock of actually being taught, the class continued uneventfully, with a good stock of satisfactorily brewed potions available by the end of the session.

Severus watched Harry carefully and mulled over the boy's actions. With his words, he had successfully covered his professor's out-of-character dash from the classroom and then proceeded to make productive use of the time he was away. It was almost as if he knew. And approved. He was not sure whether he was more anxious about the boy's sudden development of insight, for surely Hermione had not told him, or relieved that Potter was not in the middle of a major temper tantrum. His thoughts turned to Hermione. He knew he shouldn't have been stripping off yesterday; it was too cold, but he had been unable to resist proving to his audience of one that he was up to it. Up to it. He certainly had been. The memory of all that had occurred the morning before shot straight to his groin, tightening his pants uncomfortably as his body reacted. A soft groan escaped his lips as he remembered exposing his witch to the cold air as well. Could that have brought about her illness? Could their shared passion have...?

"Sir? Professor Snape, sir? Are you feeling all right?" Harry's voice interrupted his self-recrimination.

"What? Oh, yes, Potter. No need for concern." He waved the boy away, once again astounded by his apparent reversal in attitude.

Harry left the dungeon classroom, satisfied he had guessed correctly the relationship between Snape and Hermione. The Potions professor had definitely been extremely worried about her well-being, and he had never shown any concern for a student's health before. Only irritation if it interfered with their class-work. And he hadn't taken any points off anyone in the last class, not even Harry himself. That was definitely not normal. He was a little concerned as to his own lack of reaction to the possibility of the two being a couple. While Harry had eventually come to grips with Snape's part in the war and his love for Lily Potter, he still disliked the man. And he was a teacher. Then he remembered the expressions on both Hermione's and Snape's faces the day before and the latter's concern that morning. If his best friend felt that intensely about their Potions professor, Harry was determined to wait until she could explain what was going on before going off half-cocked like he had in the past. He grinned ruefully to himself. Hadn't done a lot of good before. Whistling softly, he headed off to collect Ron and Ginny on the way to the Hospital wing. The problem of telling them about Snape and Hermione, he would leave up to the witch herself. He was not about to incur her wrath by discussing her affairs with anyone. She was way too scary.

***

If anyone had been strolling the corridors of Hogwarts that night, they might have wondered why the Potions master was heading in the direction of the Hospital wing laden with a pile of essays. But, as it was, there was no-one about to witness that peculiar sight.

Severus glanced around as he entered Poppy Pomfrey's domain, checking for any inquisitive eyes. Thankfully, there was no-one to be seen. He entered Hermione's room and, after checking she was sleeping comfortably, transfigured the bedside table into a small desk so he could continue his marking. Every so often, he would turn and watch the sleeping witch for a few moments or check her forehead for signs of the fever returning.

Poppy smiled as she peeked in on them later. She had never seen the tender, caring side of Severus Snape before and had believed it non-existent. But there he was, murmuring comforting words and gently sponging her patient's face as he helped her down her next dose of Willowbark Infusion. The look of relief on Hermione's face as she held fast to his hand spoke volumes. His tender kiss on her forehead as she drifted back to sleep warmed the older woman's heart. She entered briefly to give him instructions on the administration of the cough suppressant potion should it be needed and advised him to try and get some rest as well. Knowing he would remain at Hermione's bedside throughout the night – she wasn't about to try and suggest otherwise – Poppy suggested he transfigure the hard chair into something more comfortable. He nodded his acquiescence and bid her good night. Casting a charm to alert her if anyone else tried to enter the room, she retired to her own chambers, content that her patient was in the best of hands.

Checking in on them much later, she found Severus asleep in a narrow cot beside the bed, one hand clasping his witch's hand to his cheek, and his face looking more at peace than she had ever observed before.

***

A/N: This story is dedicated to the esteemed leader of F.A.R.T, Robbi, whose encouragement, nay, nagging, turned this story from a vague idea to an actuality. However, any expressions of emotion emanating from Severus Snape are entirely my idea. She made me clarify that. Of course, my dear friend, ladyinthecloak, bossed the commas into submission and tidied up any mistakes. Thanks, girls!