Eleven

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. I intend no infringement and am making no profit.

***

I found Professors Sprout and Snape standing in the entranceway of the castle, the latter looking decidedly unhappy to be included in our adventure. He was wearing a thicker black cloak than I was accustomed to seeing, and he had exchanged his typical indoor boots for an even more rugged pair. Professor Sprout was wearing a light blue winter cloak and carrying a large sack, presumably to hold the plants we gathered.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," I said hastily. "I was waylaid by Peeves..."

Professor Sprout sighed. "Did he drop peppermint syrup all over you?"

"Yes! Has he done it to you?"

She nodded, grimacing. "Yesterday. I've never had so much difficulty getting rid of a substance with a cleaning spell!"

Severus...for he certainly didn't seem to share much in common with my professor at that moment, dressed to go traipsing through the heavy snowdrifts...looked back and forth between the two of us before drawling, "If we could proceed...?"

"Of course!" Professor Sprout pulled her hood over her hair and led the way. She walked more briskly than I would have expected, considering her legs were even shorter than my own. I followed her pace, trying to keep alongside her in order to avoid walking beside Severus, who trailed behind. It was most disconcerting to feel his gaze on my back as I endeavored to maintain a constant flow of niceties between Professor Sprout and myself.

When we had gone perhaps ten minutes past the border of the Forbidden Forest, I began to notice mistletoe growing wild on many of the trees. The vivid berries made a wonderful contrast against the black limbs and white dusting of snow, and Professor Sprout began pointing out the healthiest specimens for Severus to gather. I watched him idly out of the corner of my eye while she continued chatting.

He circled with light, almost silent footsteps, making my own lurching and crunching through the drifts seem all the more clumsy and childlike. When Professor Sprout motioned for me to examine a particular plant a couple trees away, I did my best to give him a wide berth as I passed, but I succeeded instead in tripping over a large root.

I tumbled sideways and was vaguely aware that I was falling when I felt his arms encircle me midway to the ground. I let out a gasp when one of his wrists connected with my abdomen and tried to right myself. He steadied me with both large hands wrapped around my waist. Dazedly I was aware that even beneath the layers of clothing, he could practically have wrapped those long arms around me multiple times. I felt positively tiny.

A moment passed between us, heavy with awareness, before he finally spoke. "Have you injured your foot, Miss Granger?"

In the dim light I couldn't discern the expression in his eyes, but an almost worried slant creased his lips, and his voice was soft enough to envelop only the two of us.

"No, I think I'll be fine."

"You had better sit down." Without waiting for my assent, he removed his cloak and placed it upon a patch of downy, unblemished snow. Then he literally lifted me from my feet and lowered me onto it, his hands still placed snugly against my ribcage. His right arm abandoned its delicious position and began to remove my boot while the left remained in its place.

A quick spell dispatched with the boot in no time, and he began to very gently palpate my ankle. It was sore, to be sure, but not especially swollen, and I had no doubt that the mild throbbing was not indicative of anything serious.

"It does not appear to be sprained, but wait here all the same."

I nodded and opened my mouth to thank him. Our eyes met, and something flashed through his face that seemed to say, Hold your tongue. I did so, merely nodding again, and we exchanged a silent conversation. I glanced down and stared at his hand, mesmerized by the warmth seeping from his palm into my body.

He flinched and removed it sharply, as though I'd shocked him. I forced myself to meet his eyes and hold his gaze steadily, desperate to demonstrate to him that I felt neither fear nor repulsion at the force of his touch, which he had deemed for so many years repugnant and unworthy of a woman's body. Determination quickly metamorphosed into desire. My breathing grew shallow, and I was absurdly grateful that he'd removed his hand. Had he left it there, he would have felt the telltale racing of my heart that seemed always to betray my discomfiture in his presence.

This time it felt as though his eyes were the ones to silently extend their gratitude, and he rose smoothly to his feet and pocketed his wand once again. Professor Sprout had not moved from her position beneath the tree opposite us, and she was staring at him with unabashed happiness. Her eyes slid over to me, and she spared me a small but brilliant smile before calling, Miss Granger, why don't you wait here and give your foot a chance to recover? We'll only be a few more minutes."

"I will, thank you," I called back to her, but my eyes connected with his as I said the words. His chin moved ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, in a nod of acknowledgment before he turned his back to me and strode over to Professor Sprout.

Ten minutes later, when they'd finished gathering the night's crop of mistletoe boughs, I rose unsteadily to my feet and found that my ankle, while still sore, was more than capable of holding me. We made our way at an easier pace back to the castle and up to the teachers' lounge, where Professors McGonagall and Flitwick still sat, talking with Dumbeldore's portrait.

"Are you quite all right, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked when I entered somewhat stiffly, one arm thrown over Professor Sprout's obliging shoulders in order to lessen the discomfort on my ankle. "Madam Pomfrey has gone to bed, but she won't mind being woken if you need attending to."

"There is no need, Headmaster." Severus had carried his heavy outdoor cloak draped over one arm, and I felt suddenly guilty that I'd been the reason it had ended up covered in snow. He was reaching for a handful of the Floo powder kept just above the mantel. "I have a salve that will lessen the soreness. Structurally Miss Granger's ankle is uninjured."

"Very well... If you're sure." Dumbledore sounded satisfied by the Potions master's response. Severus tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared swiftly, leaving me with the other three professors voicing their concern over my pain.

"It's really not that bad," I assured them. "It's feeling better already, and Professor Snape is right...there's no sprain or fracture."

He reappeared just then, and while in his rooms he had divested himself of his frock coat. There was nothing but a soft, white dress shirt separating my hands from touching his body, and I was all too conscious of that fact as he approached me with long, powerful strides and handed me the small container. Lacking the oppressive appearance of his coat and teaching robes, he was once again the man I'd seen in the Pensieve, and he was by no means the greasy old bat of student mockery. His shoulders were broad, his entire frame beautifully sculpted, and I swallowed hard before accepting the salve.

"Thank you."

Again he did not verbally acknowledge my gratitude, but the way his eyes lingered on my face was acceptance enough for me. He bid us all a rather terse goodnight and disappeared once again. I remained in the lounge for another hour, the pain in my foot entirely forgotten in favor of replaying in my mind the feeling of his hands wrapped around my body, their presence in my fantasies taking on an altogether more provocative purpose.

***

The Christmas holidays concluded quickly, and January began to transition ever so slowly into February. I was not, I reflected every day when my alarm woke me in the total darkness, especially fond of the winter season. I enjoyed its picturesque beauty, but I had no patience for the constant cold and wind, and I absolutely despised the unrelenting darkness. I collapsed into bed every evening after my rounds utterly grateful to escape the world, and what little free time I had was spent toiling unceasingly over my Wolfsbane.

We turned in the vials containing our NEWT Potions projects two weeks before the Valentine's Day dance. I was exhausted, having been up the night before scrutinizing every possible aspect of my potion. I couldn't accept the possibility that he might find even the subtlest nuance to be unsatisfactory. He said nothing when he accepted the small vial containing the equivalent of months of my life, sweat, frustration, and time, but a week later we all found small pieces of parchment waiting for us upon our arrival to class. Mine contained my name in simple, spidery masculine scrawl, followed by, 100%.

There were no words of praise, nothing congratulatory about the simple object, but my chest swelled with pride, and I cared little that my largest contribution to his class had not elicited anything other than the grade itself. All that day I imagined the expression on his face as he examined it and the motion of his fingers as he wrote on my small parchment my name and grade. Somehow the thought of meeting his absolute highest expectations was to me an infinitely greater thrill than the sensation of being held in his arms.

It was by taking solace in these and other, similar thoughts that I managed to survive until Valentine's Day. Bereft of any additional work for Potions, I had been drawing up my NEWT revision schedule and relentlessly badgering Ministry officials and anyone I thought might possibly know of scholarships, grants, or any other forms of funding available to Hogwarts graduates in order to attend St. Mungo's.

The morning of Valentine's Day arrived sickeningly bright and cheery. I was never one to put much stock in such ludicrous holidays, and it didn't make me feel any worse about my situation than I already had, thank God, so I paid little attention. I had already promised Ron that I would dance a few times with him that evening since Luna was laid up in the hospital wing with an especially Pepper-Up-resistant head cold, but beyond that, I had no particular plans to celebrate the day. I deemed it otherwise beneath my notice.

As it was a Saturday, I sat in Ginny's room while she performed innumerable strange procedures on her hair in preparation for the evening. Finally, having long since grown abominably bored, I told her I was going to go for a walk and left her to her primping. I had no intention of even putting on a dress, so I saw no reason to hang around and continue to pester her. I indulged in a long walk around the castle before deciding that I could do with a hot bath and a relaxing trip to the library.

I was meandering back to my room when I heard breathless panting behind me. I turned to find Ginny dashing toward me, fair skin flushed with exertion and the hair she had been so painstakingly styling all in disarray. Astonished, I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Gin, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"N-No... Good news," she managed to croak through her wheezing. "Merlin, it's hard to run in these things."

Five-foot-one-inch Ginny had developed over the years a serious attachment to very large heels. I took one look at the monstrosities on her feet and felt sympathetic pain flaring in both my ankles.

"Listen"...her coloring was gradually returning to normal, though she continued to teeter somewhat worrisomely..."I've just been to the hospital wing to visit Luna, and Madam Pomfrey says you're to come at once. She needs to talk to you. She said Snape's been looking everywhere for you; he's been searching for ages..."

"What's he want with me?" I quashed the irrational hope blooming in my chest. It was likely related to my project if he'd gotten Madam Pomfrey involved, and that couldn't be good news at all. I had faith, though, that she would vouch for me if he sought to impugn the validity of my work. I and I alone had done the exhausting brewing of the final batch...a strict requirement for any student who accepted counsel from another person in the preparation of their project.

"I don't know, but she says it's great news and you're to go there at once."

"All right, come on." We set off at a quick pace, Ginny's heels clacking inelegantly on the stone floors. She was still breathing too hard to hold up a conversation, and yet when we were in sight of the doors of the hospital wing, she beat me to it, and soundly. I think she was more excited by the prospect of whatever was to greet us than I was.

I walked in with trepidation to find Madam Pomfrey and Severus deep in conversation in her office. I suppressed a gasp when I saw that he was wearing a pair of very sharp, very attractive formal dress robes in a deep, dimensionless black, and he'd cut his hair. It threw my equilibrium entirely out of balance to see him with shorter, precisely groomed hair that barely brushed his ears and such a polished look about him.

"I've found her," Ginny called triumphantly. Madam Pomfrey's face broke into an enormous smile.

"Excellent! Thank you, dear. Hermione, I'm glad we've finally found you! Where have you been?" She sounded as though she was almost scolding me, which only increased my confusion.

"I was out for a walk.... I'm sorry, did we have an appointment that I've forgotten about? What is going on?"

"Severus has the most wonderful news!" she exclaimed. He opened his mouth calmly to tell me the news in what would have undoubtedly been a cool and wholly composed manner, but Madam Pomfrey simply couldn't keep quiet. "Tonight is the annual gathering of the International Potions Masters' Consortium, and they've had a contest for all the members to bring in their best student's work. They're giving away a full scholarship for the apprenticeship of the winning student's choice. You've won, Hermione!"

I stared at her for a full thirty seconds before Ginny elbowed me in the ribs, and I squawked, "I've won?"

"Yes! Severus entered your Wolfsbane brew, and it was no contest...the second-best entry was just a Draught of Living Death, and we all know yours was far more challenging, and it was perfect besides!"

"...I've won the scholarship? And it's not just for Potions?"

"No, dear." She was still beaming widely. "It's the first year they've had the contest...in celebration of our victory and all, now that the students are safe and everyone's able to focus on their futures again. They were originally going to offer only a Potions apprenticeship with the master of the student's choice, but Severus told them about your predicament, and they agreed that being a Healer is just as noble a profession!"

"Then... Then I can do it? I can use the money to go to St. Mungo's?" I breathed.

"Yes!"

"I'm going to be a Healer!" I shrieked. Ginny was bouncing up and down on her crazy shoes, practically vibrating with excitement.

Before I could take stock of what I was doing, I had thrown my arms around the shocked Potions master and cried, "Thank you, sir! You don't know how much this means to me."

"I suspect I do now," he remarked dryly, the vibration of his voice thrumming through my chest where it connected with his. Madam Pomfrey laughed delightedly when I pulled back, horrorstruck.

"I'm sorry!" I cried. "I didn't mean anything by it. I...I wasn't thinking. I'm just so grateful..."

Genuine amusement sparkled in his eyes, and I think his cheeks were very faintly flushed as well as we both continued to stare at what had been, mere seconds before, the nexus of our joined bodies. "I just received the results a few hours ago," he informed me in a purely businesslike tone. "The conference is in two hours. I suggest you prepare adequately, Miss Granger. I will meet you in the castle foyer in precisely three-quarters of an hour."

As he walked past his cloak brushed lightly against my hand, already incredibly sensitized with the lingering feeling of the soft, hot skin of his neck. I suppressed a shudder and turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was still beside herself with happiness, smiling indulgently.

"I'm so proud of you, my dear! A year from now, you'll be finishing your apprenticeship. And it's high time for me to train in a successor, I should think..."

"Really?" I gasped. "Would you do that for me?"

"Of course." She waved it off as though the offer were nothing. "Albus always trusted me to appoint my successor when I was ready. I'm sure Minerva will be no different."

"Thank you!" I cried, and I hugged her as well, though both of us expected the motion. She patted me on the back, overjoyed tears pooling visibly in her eyes. "Now, dear, I suggest you head off with Miss Weasley and do something to freshen up. They'll want to present you to everyone there, and it is a highly respected group of men. You should look your best."

"Of course...I...right away!" I finished lamely, looking desperately at Ginny. She was grinning positively evilly.

"You can't do it without me, can you?" she teased, and I shook my head in concession. She laughed and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the door.

"All right, let's go. We've got to do something with that hair. Do you know what you're going to wear? We could always have McGonagall Transfigure something for you. Otherwise, Luna has this gorgeous black dress, and you two are the same height. I'm guessing it'd fit you..."

I lost track of her words, completely overcome with shock and elation.