Chapter 9

As to why names are the way they are herein, c/f to the A/N in Ch 1.

Method in Madness

Chapter 9

Hermione stretched against warm cotton sheets and a fluffy herb scented pillow and she slowly opened her eyes. She yawned and stretched again, thinking on the very odd dream she had. She dreamt that Severus had confronted her about the photograph she kept by her bed and she had all but made it clear that she loved him. Still yawning, she sat up and noticed it was dark save for the lone candle by the nightstand. Odd, she thought as she rubbed her eyes, hoping that they were not rheumy. She did not remember going to sleep in her bed.

"Lumos," she muttered, waving her right hand in a sharp flick. The room lit up dimly enabling her to examine her surroundings. She was in the infirmary and she appeared to have been tucked into bed. She peered down to the floor and found her ankle high boots neatly placed beside the bed. The autumn issue of Ars Chemica was on the nightstand beside the candle. There was something on top of the journal but she ignored it for the moment and trailed her eyes to her witch's robe, which was neatly draped over the chair beside the bed. She threw over the duvet and hugged the pillow, trying to recall if she had collapsed while brewing a potion. Impossible – she was there, in that chair, reading to Severus when the potion was administered. The pillow smelled faintly of her white nettle shampoo as well as herbs and coal tar soap. She knew that Severus had been asleep on the pillow for his scent was still etched on it. Where was he? She thought frantically, searching for her pocket watch so as to ascertain the time and date. She found her pocket watch resting atop a neatly folded note. Disregarding her earlier desire to ascertain the time, she careful replaced the pocket watch on top of Ars Chemica and seized the note. It was addressed "For Miss Hermione Granger". She recognised the hand as Severus's and she broke the seal – it was another poem. It was untitled, but she did not care, she devoured it all the same, lisping the words lightly on her lips:

"What follows after allure

That never admits its dependency?

Participatory in rejecting exemplars

Marking a modicum in judgement

And failure to recast the dialectic,

It tastes distinctive – Sour.

What follows after virtue

That never admits its opposite?

Corresponded to innate goodness

Embryonic in recollecting Forms
Moderating between boastfulness

And conservative self-deprecation,

It tastes distinctive – Sweet."

Could these be Severus's last words? The penmanship was his; there was no mistaking it, but the hand was shaky. Was he describing himself in the first stanza? Was he sour over something? Sweet? Who or what was the sweet that he was referring to? Was it a first draft? How did that explain the shaky hand? Severus was always certain of himself, even if he was doing which he knew was wrong, he would make a show of his bravado. He was not one to make a public display of his insecurities. She knew what she had to do. She carefully folded the note with a sign and placed it in her pocket. After fighting back her tears, she cast a quick glance at her pocket, which, if anything, seemed to confirm her worst fears. Quickly, she cast a spell to render herself presentable, pinned the pocket watch in a pocket on her bodice, checked her boots and wand; and she ran out of the hospital wing with only one thought on her mind – Where was Severus? If he was dead, there must be a body. If he's dead and her potion failed, where was the body? If he was dead, she would tell him exactly what she thought and she would articulate exactly she felt. It would be easier to tell a corpse that than an inanimate body whose spirit communicated with you. But to reveal that, she needed to find his body and she would bawl herself stupid and tell him everything in private. She would give him some degree of dignity; she knew he didn't like scenes. She would do exactly that – but she needed to see the body. The body that belonged to him deserved to know even if it couldn't hear.

The heels of her boots echoed throughout the empty hallways and corridors as she sprinted towards the Great Hall where she knew either Dumbledore or Minerva McGonagall would be in attendance. They would know where Severus's body was; they would know where Madam Pomfrey had done with the body. She was certain they knew.

"Where's Severus?" she demanded insistently in a commanding voice as she entered the Great Hall, her waist length bushy hair bouncing behind her. "Where is Severus?" she repeated, her voice reverberating in the Great Hall. Silence fell when she was heard. All eyes turned to focus on her. The students were already in Hogwarts! The sorting was over and Dumbledore was clearly making the beginning of year announcements. It seemed that her question "Where is Severus" still echoed in the air for students stared and whispered among themselves – could it be that mean greasy unapproachable Professor Snape allowed someone to address him by his given name? Hermione fought back a blush, ignored the stares and whispers and scanned the staff table. Finally, she released the breath that she had been unconsciously holding when she saw Severus Snape seated between Professor Sinistra and an empty chair. Meeting Hermione's eyes with studied indifference, he nodded at her, twitched his mouth into a cold half smirk and raised his chalice. Feeling all eyes trained on her, she suppressed a blush when Severus kept his nonchalant gaze on her. Drawing herself up with forced calm, she gave him a weak smile, nodded at Dumbledore before making her way to the staff table.

"As I was saying," said Dumbledore, winking slightly at her under his half-moon spectacles as he continued the announcements. "This year we are pleased to have Professor Lupin as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and that," he paused, gesturing at Hermione, "that is our new Arithmancy teacher, Professor Granger. Mr Filch has reminded me that this is the..."

Dumbledore continued his announcements, oblivious to the fact that the student body's attention fell on the staff table where the scraping of chairs was clearly audible. Severus had drawn himself up to his full height and was frowning. He had transfigured a silvery thick shawl, which drew much admiration from the female students, whom he silenced with a black scowl. Flapping the shawl in a gesture of practised carelessness over his arm, he stood beside the empty seat, waiting for Hermione. To her surprise, Remus Lupin, who was on the other side of the empty seat also stood for her. A little embarrassed by the attention, Hermione quickened her pace and soon reached the empty seat. The barely audible whispers made themselves more urgently felt when Severus glared at her, placed the shawl over the shoulders, drew the empty chair out for her and waited for her to sit before resuming his seat. When Hermione was safely deposited in her seat, Remus saw fit to sit as well. Dumbledore and Minerva looked in their direction and smiled.

"If all the teachers are ready?" he said with a laugh and a twinkle in his eyes. "I would like to get through the announcements so that I can eat. Before we begin the feast proper, there are a few other matters. Professor Snape has been awarded the Order of Merlin, first class, for his role in bringing down Voldermort. Owing to his injuries from which he has only recently recovered, the Ministry and I have been unable to present him with this until now." Severus looked uneasy with what he considered was unwarranted attention and bowed a little to the Headmaster when the medal floated towards the younger wizard's dinner plate. While he could ignore the polite applause from the staff and the students of the other houses, Severus cast his eyes downwards at the rapturous applause from the Slytherin table. Unable to bear it any longer, he cast them a dark look and curled his lips with great contempt so as to silence them.

"Now, that we're done with that – about time too, I am getting peckish," his comment drew the laughter of the students, a frown from Minerva and a nod from Remus. "Let the feast begin!"

When the welcome feast officially began, Hermione asked the two wizards beside her, "What did you think you were doing, embarrassing me by standing up?"

Remus looked at Severus, somewhat taken aback by Hermione's reaction. Severus kept an impassive face and drawled in his low silky tone, "Gentlemen always stand when a lady approaches and when she rises from the table, we must do likewise. It is only...polite. Surely, you are acquainted with this basic etiquette Professor Granger."

Hearing herself addressed in this manner, she wondered whether her experiences in the dream was just that – a dream. The Severus Snape before her did not seem like the self- tormented soul who questioned her on the photograph in her chambers. It must have been a dream. Yes, it was nothing more than a dream. If he could regard her with such formality, he did not know how she felt or he would have surely ignored her. She turned to look Severus in the eye, "It's very nice of you, I'm sure, Professor Snape but I would not want to trespass on your kindness," retorted Hermione in kind, biting into a sandwich.

"Snape, you've mangled yet another compliment," sighed Remus. "We were trying to be nice, really we were. You've completed your apprenticeship, Hermione. Snape decided that your Adapted Wolfsbane potion and your Counter Restorative to the killing curse warranted 'extraordinarily outstanding' He's very pleased, even if he doesn't show it."

"There you go, Lupin, puffing her up with notions of her importance!" he scowled, summoning a pitcher to pour some pumpkin juice into Hermione's chalice. "If she had sense enough, she would have worn her robes and not give me the trouble of transfiguring a shawl out of thin air for her! See," he said lowly, with a triumphant look in his eyes as he grasped her palm. "Her appendages are cold! Senseless woman!"

"Never mind him, Remus" said Hermione, struggling free from his loose grip. "Professor Snape may know how to be a gentleman but he certainly is renowned for the species' qualities. Still, that's gallantry for you. I'm glad it isn't dead," she laughed in an ironic tone. "Are you really recovered Remus? No side effects? No howling at the moon? Any ravenous appetite for rare steak?"

Remus shook his head with a broad grin when he caught Severus's characteristic scowl. "I took a moonlit stroll under Poppy's watchful eye, of course. You should have seen the full moon, Hermione; it was lovely last night. Perhaps you should patent your Adapted Wolfsbane cure," he paused, noticing Severus swearing under his breath as he placed a large piece of shepherd's pie on Hermione's plate. Realising that he meant to continue, Remus hastily added, "that is, if Snape will allow it. What say you, old boy?"

Severus glared at Lupin as if insulted by his colleague's suggestion. "I do not recall being on such intimate terms with you, Lupin! Leave our tenuous friendship with some degree of dignity," he cautioned in a dangerous voice. "I would not dream of trespassing on Miss Granger's work or kindness. If Herm..., Miss Granger would consent to nourish herself so as not to die before we have articles for publication on both her successes; the formula for the Adapted Wolfsbane potion would be made available to those afflicted."

"They are your successes as much as mine; besides, I am eating," declared Hermione indignantly as she watched him summon a few slices of ham and chicken for the three of them.

"A sandwich is not food!" insisted Severus between his teeth, causing Remus to laugh. "I am only repaying the favour Professor Granger. You have condescended to prolong my life and I'm presently engaged in doing the same for you. And Merlin knows Remus could use some ham with all that gravy, otherwise, he'll make a right mess of himself!"

Remus laughed at the comment and Severus glared before continuing, "If you don't eat and you faint or waste away, whichever occurs first – your precious dunderheads would miss their lessons. You wouldn't want that to happen now, would you?"

"I don't see you eating!" responded Hermione, jabbing Severus's empty plate with her finger.

Severus looked to Remus who gave him an expression of 'I don't know what to do, I would love to help but you're on your own'. He scowled at the unhelpful wizard and heard a laugh from Professor Sinistra. Deciding that he would have to act, he picked up his fork and knife and surgically extricated a mouthful of shepherd's pie with a piece of ham, put it before Hermione and taunted her in a low purr, "Only if the lady eats first, otherwise, I dare not."

Uncertain as to how she should react, she turned to Remus to find him carefully examining Severus's Order of Merlin medal. Severus met her gaze unflinchingly, still holding onto the fork in a firm but careless manner, he asked, "Well?"

Hermione knew there was no way out of this; she would have to accept the fork. She reached out to take the fork, but as her fingers touched his, he muttered, "No, silly girl! Open your mouth, take in the food and masticate!"

Tightening the shawl around her, she did so and glared at him. "Presumptuous snarky devil!" she hissed while chewing.

"Manners, Professor Granger. Don't talk with you mouth full," he said smoothly as he fed himself with a little something from her plate.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked when he realised what he had done.

"Eating, Miss Know-it-all Gryffindor!" he replied. He positioned the fork at her mouth again, "You are going to eat, you silly girl, even if I have to feed you! This will not last, understand?" he paused before adding in a sterner voice, "I am not used to cosseting any one."

Knowing she couldn't win the argument, she allowed him to feed him and challenged, "Why aren't you eating from your own plate?"

"You're the insufferable know-it-all; you tell me."

"Are you trying to save the house-elves from too much cleaning?" she asked, accepting another mouthful from him.

"You disappoint me. Eating off another's plate in some cultures is a mark of respect. I think I owe you that much after what you have done. Even if that blasted brew gave me a nasty headache!" he answered quietly, smirking a little at her.

Remus rolled his eyes at Severus's pathetic excuse of a smile before whispering in Hermione's ear, "In some cultures, eating off the plate of one's beloved is a sign of affection."

When Hermione turned around to face Remus, he was busy talking to Madam Hooch. She must have imagined Remus's whisper then. Oh well, no matter, Severus was up and about and appeared to be his usual self. Everything would return to normal, she was sure of it. Thankfully, no one seemed aware of what the two of them were doing, she imagined that it would provide great gossip fodder for the students. As she took another bite from Severus's proffered fork, she did not notice Remus and Dumbledore smile knowingly at this particularly domestic scene.

NOTES:

Once again, the poem is my creation.