NETTIE

Chapter Twelve: NETTIE

As much as I loved my sister, I hated living in the same building as her, even when said building was a castle as large as Hogwarts. You see, Poppy is the eldest sister and I am the baby of the family. We have two sisters in the middle – Marigold and Petunia - but Poppy doesn't treat either of them like they're half-wits. That's a pleasure she reserves solely for me.

I suppose it's partly my fault. She does love to boss and tell people what to do and I have become so used to it over the years, I suppose I just naturally fill my role as the youngest sister. Normally, I don't let it bother me. I just listen to her and sometimes I'll do as she asks and sometimes I won't. But I never tell her to mind her own business, or to take her advice and shove it somewhere painful and wholly inappropriate.

I wish I'd done that this time.

Of course, I haven't lived in close proximity to her for years, so there's never been the need. That, and I don't like confrontation, more's the pity. It started the same day I arrived at Hogwarts with Miss Granger. After I had gotten her settled in our new suite of rooms, Poppy had made an appearance to 'see how I was coping' with the move. In reality, she had come to spy and she had brought several compatriots with her.

I had heard stories from her in the past about her colleagues but had never really met any of them before, with the exception of Professor Snape, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall. I had met Professor McGonagall twice prior, when she had visited Miss Granger at St. Mungo's.

So, there I was with Miss Granger. Professor Snape had left just a little earlier, indicating he would return after 'discussing with Potter and Albus what he was hoping to accomplish with Hermione.' His tone had been so dry when he told me this I knew right away this meeting was not his idea – I rather suspected that Mr. Potter needed further reassurance regarding Professor Snape's intentions towards my young charge. Mentally, I wished him luck. From the suspicious way Potter had been looking at him most of the day, I suspected he was going to need it just to keep control of his temper.

The last thing I had wanted was to have a roost of gossipy old hens descend upon me my first day back at Hogwarts without so much as one word of warning, led by my sister. The door to the chambers was open and I could hear them coming before I saw them, their voices and slow foot steps echoing down the stone corridor.

'It was dreadful!' Poppy was saying, 'There I was, tidying up, when Professor Snape burst through my floo like a wraith. You should have seen him, white shirt and dried blood down his chin, and carrying Miss Granger too! I nearly had a fainting spell.'

'Blood down his chin? From what?' an unidentified female voice asked curiously.

'Harry punched him in the nose!' Poppy replied, aghast.

There was a chorus of titters and one voice muttered what sounded like, 'Wouldn't make much difference.'

The sound of Poppy's throat clearing took back the attention of her audience. 'Apparently, he found Snape in a rather intimate position with Hermione, and had to pull them apart.'

There were several exaggerated gasps and one clear cackle among the voices. Poppy's salacious tone and the willing ears of her cohorts to listen to such nonsense made my blood boil. Intimate position indeed!

'Don't fret dears, Nettie will tell us what's going on,' Poppy concluded sagely. 'We'll get the scoop from her – she's been brought to make sure Hermione isn't... taken advantage of.'

Of all the nerve! I looked at Miss Granger and bit the inside of my cheek, trying for a welcoming smile, even though inside I was fuming. 'Here come the hoards, my dear. I hope you're ready... I know I'm not.'

Professor Snape had left Miss Granger in the living area, arranged comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, for all appearances as if she were waiting for a cup of tea. I had assumed he would immediately carry her to her room and place her in bed, and had been a little surprised he hadn't done so. When I had asked him what he was doing, he had stated flatly that, 'Hermione was not bedridden, and therefore did not wish to be imprisoned in her bedroom for the duration of her stay.'

Can't say I didn't blame her. The walls in her room were quite boring.

When Poppy and her herd entered our suite, it was amusing to note the look of surprise on all their faces when they saw Miss Granger sitting there waiting for them.

'Nettie, what is Hermione doing out of bed?' Poppy squawked, quickly looking my way before turning to Miss Granger again.

'Hello Poppy. Ladies,' I nodded, my voice professional and polite. 'Miss Granger wanted to sit out here for a while.'

'Told you that, did she?' a witch I didn't know leered at me.

'No, she told Professor Snape,' I replied coolly.

'Right,' the same witch responded, rolling her shrewd yellow eyes, 'I just bet she did.'

The other witches started talking all at once, 'Poppy, do you really think...', 'I can't believe Dumbledore...', 'That poor boy, no wonder he punched Snape...', 'Is she really, well you know...', 'I always knew he'd go off the bend someday...'

I was quite taken aback by all the noise. Poppy moved closer to me and tsked under her breath, 'That man doesn't have the sense the gods gave a goat. Hermione is in no state to be sitting up, as if she were taking visitors. Nettie dear, help me move her back to her room.'

'No,' I replied, quite firmly. 'Miss Granger is fine right where she is, aren't you dear?' I patted the younger woman's hand as I spoke, showing her I had no indication of allowing her to be moved anywhere.

'Really, Nettie, as the head medi-witch here at Hogwarts, I must insist...'

'You will do no such thing,' I retorted. 'I am here to care for Miss Granger, not to work for you. She is my charge, and she has indicated she does not wish to go to her room. Until Professor Snape returns and is able to tell me otherwise, she will remain here.'

The other witches in the room had stopped clucking and were watching me with interest.

'Do you really believe she's trapped in her mind?' one tiny little witch inquired curiously, her wizened face reminding me of the apple dolls my mother used to make.

'I am sure of it,' I retorted stoutly. 'Professor Snape does not strike me as the type of man to make things up. And since he found her this morning, her condition has quite improved.'

'Still looks like she's in a coma to me,' the witch with the weird eyes muttered sarcastically.

'That's because she is still in a coma,' Poppy replied imperiously. 'Really, Nettie – how can you say she's improved?'

I bristled under her superior attitude and big-sister tone. 'Because she has,' I snapped. 'This morning she was dying, which you would have known if any of you ever bothered to visit her.' I glanced apologetically at Professor McGonagall as I said this, but continued none-the-less. 'Her hair was brittle and falling out, her arms and legs were twisted in on themselves – even her skin was a hideous gray. But look at her now! Since Professor Snape found her and spoke with her, she's had a remarkable turnaround. That's how I know she's there.'

'She couldn't have been as bad as all that,' Poppy started, but I interrupted.

'Are you questioning my abilities as a medi-witch?' I demanded. 'You think I don't know what a dying person looks like?'

'Now Nettie, I didn't say that...' Poppy began, 'I just question if you have become to close to Miss Granger and her situation. Perhaps you were imagining she was worse than she actually was.'

'I don't imagine things,' was my flat response. 'I know what I saw. Professor Snape came back and saved her.'

'What do you mean, came back?' a rotund, earthy looking witch asked suddenly. 'He stopped visiting?'

'He was recuperating from his accident,' my voice had grown stony. I was not about to start sharing stories with any of these ladies, as I didn't really know why his visits had stopped for their extended duration, and I wasn't about to start hypothesizing.

'Are you telling us he hadn't been to see her for three weeks?' McGonagall's voice was frankly shocked.

'He's been fine enough to apparate for a couple of weeks now,' Poppy added, looking at me shrewdly. 'What aren't you telling us, Nettie?'

I shrugged, 'Nothing that concerns you, believe me.'

Poppy sniffed at me. 'You seem to be a little short today, Nettie. I trust that it's just the stress of relocating to Hogwarts and nothing too serious. I suppose I should be getting back to the infirmary. I'll see you tomorrow?'

I nodded in assent, 'You know where I am.' I smiled politely at the other witches, 'Ladies.'

It didn't take them long to leave, for which I was grateful. But their voices continued to linger as they returned the way they came down the corridor. I couldn't help but suppress a shiver from their tone, blatant skepticism and suspicion towards Miss Granger's savior being the least of what I could hear in their gossip.

Turning back to look at my charge, I smiled grimly. 'You realize not one of those women bothered to talk to you while they were here, Miss Granger? And none of them even introduced themselves to me. Rude cows!'

Over the course of the next few days, I settled into a nice routine with Miss Granger. Professor Snape became a frequent early morning visitor, stopping by to visit with Miss Granger before breakfast every morning. Quite often, he would actually stay to eat and avoid the great hall altogether, not that I could blame him. From the few tidbits I heard from Poppy when she visited, the rumor mill at Hogwarts was running rampant, and he was the main focus.

Since he always arrived at 7:00 am, I would make sure Miss Granger was up and dressed before his arrival. He had requested on Miss Granger's behalf that she be allowed to wear normal clothes during the day, and I was happy to fulfill this desire. I didn't blame the girl for wanting to appear as normal as possible for his visits. And I, always eager to help along a romance in the making, did my best to make sure she looked her best. She really was a very pretty girl when her hair was charmed against frizz.

If the day was pleasant, he would sometimes show up at lunch and put Miss Granger in an old, muggle style wooden wheel chair he had found, wrap a warm blanket around her legs, and take her for walks through the gardens nearest the lake, away from the prying eyes of students and teachers alike. On those occasions when the wheels would get stuck in the mud, he would lift her from the chair as if she were a piece of glass and continue his walk on foot. I knew this because I enjoyed the opportunity to be out of doors as well, and often took a book with me to read in the sun while the Professor watched over my charge. I admit without guilt that spying on them together was often times more interesting than whatever book I had selected that day.

At the end of every day, he would return to our rooms and visit with Miss Granger for at least an hour and a half, following the same routine his other visits had in the past. Although I wasn't privy to their conversations, I was aware of his actions when he spoke with her. He always treated her with such deference; it was almost heartbreaking.

The minute Professor Snape looked into her eyes, it was impossible not to see the connection between them. He didn't so much look as dive, if you know what I mean. Even when he was making polite and superficial conversation with me, his eyes would search her out, running constantly over her face almost as if he never really believed she was there. He would sit in front of her if she was in her armchair, lean forward and just fall into her mind. Her color always looked better when he was with her, as if she had been dusted with gold. Even his austere features took on a different light; his pale skin glowing like the moon, reflecting the glory of the sun.

He would never start out touching her during his visits, but by the end would often be holding her hands. Sometimes, he would reach out and silently brush her hair behind her ears, or stroke a gentle finger down her cheek. I often saw him smile, the expression at once seeming so foreign and yet so perfect on his stern features I wondered why he didn't do it more often. Perhaps, in his every day existence without her, he had no reason to.

He never really seemed to realize that I was there when he was with her, and I was always hesitant to remind him. I would normally just putter around the suite or sit quietly in the small alcove that substituted as a miniature library and read. Sometimes, if the hour would grow very late, I would approach them and gently tap him on the shoulder.

'I apologize for the interruption Professor Snape, Miss Granger,' I would say, 'but it's past midnight, and I know you have class tomorrow, sir.'

He would always break away from her with reluctance, and I could tell he hated leaving her alone.

One evening when Professor Snape was there, Poppy stopped by to visit. She said she came to 'Have a spot of tea with her baby sister', but I knew she was really there to see what was going on. I managed to drag her through to the alcove fairly quickly, positioning her so neither Miss Granger nor Professor Snape were in her line of vision.

'So, Nettie,' she began, after squirming around for a few minutes, trying to figure out a way to turn around without appearing obvious, before finally giving up. 'I expected to see more of you while you were here!'

I smiled, 'Poppy, you know I can't leave Miss Granger alone.'

'It would be nice if you would circulate a bit more, get to know the girls.'

How to tell her I didn't really want to get to know 'the girls' – they seemed like a bunch of irritating, nosey gossips to me. Instead, I remained politely silent. Poppy frowned at me.

'Would it kill you to make an effort to get to know them better? They're very concerned about Hermione.'

'I'm sure they are,' I responded, 'but they have no reason to be. Professor McGonagall has been by to visit a couple of times – she could tell you the same thing.'

'There are... rumors... that Severus takes her for walks around the garden. Professor Sprout was telling me she saw him carrying her to the lake.'

'She likes to get outside,' I agreed. 'I doubt you'd want to be cooped up inside all day if you didn't have to be. Fresh air is good for her.'

Poppy raised her eyebrow dubiously, 'You never go with them. Aren't you supposed to be their chaperone, or at least her nurse? We all heard how Harry discovered them the day you came here.'

I tried to keep calm, I really did, but this was getting to be too much. 'Young Mr. Potter has been spreading tales out of school, has he?' I asked waspishly. 'I swear, that boy needs a smack to the back of the head! Do you think Professor Snape is going to harm the girl?'

Poppy didn't answer, and I rolled my eyes at her. 'Honestly, Poppy! Sometimes you are too much. After everything that man did during the war, after the way he almost died trying to save Potter, what do you think he actually plans on doing? Molesting her? Forcing his attentions on her when no one is watching? What?'

Poppy had the grace to blush, 'No, I don't think he'd hurt her. We've just never seen Severus act this way before and we're concerned.'

'Act what way,' I snapped back, 'like a human being? Why shouldn't he want to help her? I think he's probably the only one here who understands what true solitude is all about. That man wears his isolation like a shield, and no one else seems to want to break through it. Why shouldn't he want to talk with Hermione? She probably knows him better than anyone else, at this point.'

'What are you saying?' Poppy huffed back, her face settling into the tight lines of annoyance I recognized from childhood.

'I am saying,' I enunciated each word slowly, 'that the bunch of you are more content to just tease the poor man and cackle like hens behind his back. I am saying you would rather listen to salacious gossip and innuendo then to actually try to get the facts. I'm sure you care for him in your own way, Poppy, but I don't think anyone here has ever really forgiven him for the role he played in the war. You're all so used to seeing him as expendable, that you never tried to see the real man behind the act. Why can't you all just leave him alone, and keep the gossip to other less important things?'

'Why not indeed, Madame Pomfrey. That's a question I ask myself everyday.' Professor Snape's dry voice made both Poppy and I jump, both of us flushing guiltily. I wondered how long he had been standing there, listening to our conversation, and hoped it hadn't been for too long. I'm sure some of the things Poppy had said would be hurtful to him.

'Professor Snape, sir,' I managed to choke out, 'I didn't realize you had finished your visit with Hermione. It's rather earlier than normal.'

'Yes, it is,' he agreed pleasantly, although his voice remained cool. 'Hermione had something she wanted me to discuss with you, although I didn't realize your – sister – was here.'

The way he said 'sister' was a sneer, his lips curling in distaste around the word as his snapping black eyes pinned Poppy to her seat. 'Is there anything you wish to say to me, Poppy?'

Even though I was exceedingly irritated with her at this moment, I still felt a twinge of empathy as she cringed under Professor Snape's glare.

'No... nothing, Severus. Nothing at all. Nettie here... well, Nettie...'

'Has defended my honor quite well. I heard. Don't you have something better to do than sit here and try to cause trouble? Perhaps an irritating little dunderhead needs the kind of medical attention only you can provide.'

Poppy had the grace to look chagrined, 'Severus, you know I don't believe...' She trailed off miserably, glancing quickly at me before standing. 'It's just talk, Severus. No one means anything by it.'

Professor Snape nodded his head slightly, 'Good evening, Poppy.'

She reached out a hand and patted him contritely on the shoulder as she walked by, still unable to meet his gaze. 'I'll talk to you later, Nettie,' she mumbled as she closed the door behind her.

I slowly turned to face Professor Snape after she had left. The man hadn't said anything to me yet, but I was waiting for what I was sure was going to be a severe dressing down. I was very surprised then, when he merely asked if he could sit in the chair recently vacated by Poppy.

'Do you do that often?' he asked quietly as he sat, minutely adjusting the cuffs of his robe with his elegant fingers.

'Do what?' I responded weakly. I found myself enthralled with his hands. 'Talk to my sister?'

If I didn't know any better, I'd say his snort sounded suspiciously like a choked laugh. 'Find yourself in the position of defending me,' he clarified.

I allowed myself to look at him and realized he didn't appear angry. In fact, he seemed curious. I shook my head, 'Not all that often. But then again, I haven't talked much to anyone except Miss Granger since we arrived.'

The man smiled slightly at that, 'Yes, Hermione tells me you're keeping her great company when I'm in class. She particularly appreciates the daily readings of Wuthering Heights. She's taken on the notion that I am a fitting portrait of a real life Heathcliff.'

I smiled at that, 'The similarities are uncanny, sir.'

'Perhaps,' he agreed. All in all, this was turning into a very pleasant – if surreal – conversation. There was a moment's comfortable silence, before he leaned forward slightly and rested his elbows on his knees.

'Madame Pomfrey,' he began, but I quickly interrupted him.

'Please sir, call me Nettie. Madame Pomfrey is my mother or sister. Not me.'

He nodded his acquiescence, 'Nettie then, I have a... favor... to ask of you.'

I waited, trying to keep my open curiosity from showing on my face, 'Yes sir?'

'You know I am trying to find a way to bring Miss Granger out of this curse,' he began, obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to discuss. I simply nodded again, and waited for him to continue.

'Miss Granger believes that if I were to... kiss her... she may wake up.'

I couldn't help but smile, 'Like Sleeping Beauty, sir?'

'Exactly,' he responded, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 'I don't think it will work. As a matter of fact, I am almost positive it won't, but she is very insistent that we leave no stone unturned.'

'Indeed not,' I concurred. 'If it works in fairy tales, who is to say it won't work in real life? So, what did you need to discuss with me?'

Professor Snape cleared his throat, 'I am – aware – that you are here not only to provide care for Miss Granger, but also to make sure that nothing untoward happens between us, and...'

'Pish tosh, sir!' I cut in. 'As if you would ever do anything improper to her. Don't ever let yourself think I believe that for a minute. You couldn't bring yourself to hurt a hair on her head.'

He looked at me for a moment, decidedly nonplussed by my firm declaration, 'I am not a nice man, Nettie. I have done many... far worse, things in my life.' That last part was said softly, as if he were ashamed.

'We've all done things we wish we hadn't,' I replied. 'You're no longer the man you were back when you first joined Voldemort. I daresay you're not even the man you were 8 days ago, when you found Miss Granger. You don't need to confess your sins to me.'

Professor Snape said nothing for a moment, before he bowed his head. 'How can you be so sure I won't hurt her?' His voice was low, almost as if he was making a plea. I suppose he was, in his way. If ever a man needed someone to believe in him unconditionally, it was Professor Snape.

I sighed, 'I've got eyes, don't I? It's obvious to anyone who cares to look past their own myopic prejudices that you care for Miss Granger. I trust implicitly that you would die before you would allow her to be harmed.'

He nodded at that, 'I won't let anything hurt her.'

'I know it, sir. So – Miss Granger wants you to kiss her does she? I always heard she was a smart one.' I grinned at the sudden flush that crept up his neck.

'It is purely to rule out the possibility that it might work,' he began, but I laughed.

'Of course,' I grinned at him cheekily. 'I think she might love you, Professor Snape.'

'The deluded girl,' he muttered quietly, but there was a blush on his cheeks. 'And please, call me Severus.'