II

Disclaimer: Though it's lots of fun messing with these characters, they're not mine, and never will be.

II.

Hermione awoke several hours later to a low moaning.

"Crooks? What's wrong? Where are you?" she muttered, trying to wake up enough to find her cat.

Her eyes shot open as a deep, but weak voice asked, "Who's 'Crooks'?"

"Pro-Severus! Oh, dear, I'm so--" She stopped as soon as she turned to face her husband. He looked awful in the dim light. Even for him. His face was flushed and mottled, and he had dozens of reddish blisters from his forehead down. Even with the low light, she could tell he was still sweating profusely.

"Oh, Severus, why didn't you wake me?" she cried as she felt his forehead gingerly, trying to avoid touching any of the pustules.

He only groaned in answer, trying to twist away from her hand. "Go away, woman," he moaned pitifully when she continued to examine him.

"And leave you to die of dehydration?" She got out of bed, shivering from the cool air, and looked around for a bathroom while continuing to talk out her nerves. "I don't really want to become a widow this early on in marriage. Besides which, I'd rather not walk around school with everybody whispering behind my back about how I conquered the evil Potions master, slaying him while he slept. That just doesn't work with my current reputation. Dobby? Dobby could I get your help, please?"

There was a slight pop in the corner, and Hermione found Dobby looking at her eagerly. Forestalling any of his subservient babble, she quickly asked him to fetch some soothing cream, like calamine. He nodded and disappeared with a pop. By the time she had found the stash of towels, he had come back bearing a garish pink bottle.

Snape groaned again, and she hurried around preparing the washcloth, still prattling on. "Don't worry. I'd protest the manner of your demise to my dying day if needed. I wouldn't want everyone to think you were Samson, even though I think Delilah got a bum rap for being a clever woman... Clever women never seem to read well through history, but then again, I guess that's because history is generally written by chauvinistic men."

When she came back with a moist towel, Snape was looking very grim, but when she moved to put the cloth on his forehead, he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"Hermione... Shut... Up." He barely opened his lips, and she was positive he hadn't unclenched his jaw.

"I'm sorry. I'm just nervous. I've never played nursemaid before, and--" she closed her mouth with a snap as he opened his eyes just enough to shoot her a glare. "Right. Shutting up now," she said and continued her ministrations in silence. After a few minutes, Snape relaxed a little, closing his eyes as she applied calamine lotion to all of his little blisters all over his body.

Though she kept her mouth firmly shut, her mind hadn't stopped its inner monologue. She didn't know why she was so nervous seeing Snape (No, it's Severus, she reminded herself.) so ill, but she was. She was shocked at how miserable he looked, but she was pleased and proud he was allowing her to tend to him at all. She'd heard he was an absolute bear when it came to accepting care from others. It was nice to know he trusted her.

Five minutes later, the calamine was applied, and Severus was dozing lightly. Hermione smiled, congratulating herself on a job well done, and stood up to stretch out her back. She got back into bed and snuggled into the covers. She turned onto her side to look upon Severus, wondering why it was he loved her. Or at least she assumed he loved her. He never had actually said the words, but when they had made love, it had obviously not been just sex for him.

She watched her husband sleep and observed his features. He really wasn't good looking, but she wasn't sure she would go so far as to describe him as ugly. But then, he was asleep now, and that relaxed the harsh lines from his face. He also wasn't glaring malevolently at anyone, and that softened his features quite a lot.

The blisters really didn't help his look, though.

Shaking her head to herself, she let her eyes close as sleep overcame her again. Her last thought before falling into sleep was that he wasn't unattractive at all when he laughed.

She woke up a couple hours later to the sound of swearing coming from the bathroom.

"Severus?" she called out sleepily, this time aware of her surroundings. "Is something the matter?"

"Yes, there goddamned is something the matter! Why the hell did you apply this retched pink stuff? It itches like hell!" He came out of the bathroom and glared at her, though the effect was somewhat weakened when he stopped to cough harshly.

Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking in the direction of Snape's voice. "I thought calamine was supposed to relieve the itch. That's why I put it on you," she said slightly defensively. She frowned as he continued to cough.

"Are you all right, Severus?" she asked as she got out of bed and cautiously approached him.

"No, I am not all right, you fuck-wit!" he yelled, rounding on her. "I am--" but he interrupted himself with another cough. She watched in growing horror as he continued coughing, unable to stop. He wasn't flushed anymore, but there was a faint purplish tinge to his skin. It made him look gray.

Knowing something was very wrong, she tried to guide Severus to the bed, but he pushed her away, even as he struggled for breath. She tried to think, but her brain had stalled. She couldn't think of anything to do but watch as her husband died from asphyxiation in front of her. This was something she knew nothing about, and all she could think of was the book titles that would have helped, had she read them earlier.

Suddenly, Severus fell to his knees, still coughing and wheezing, and clutching at his chest. She heard him whimper just slightly, and for some reason, that small sound restarted her mind again.

She turned, ran to the sitting room, and looked frantically for the pot of Floo powder she knew had to be somewhere on the mantle. Finding it, she grabbed a handful and tossed it into the fire, barely noticing the flames turning green.

"Hospital wing!" she cried out, and stuck her head into the fire, regretting her quick motions when her head started spinning fiercely. Repressing the nausea, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Madam Pomfrey?" she called out. "Madam Pomfrey! Are you there? I need your help quick!"

She heard a slight shuffle, and suddenly Poppy appeared, pulling her dressing gown closed as she bent down to squint into the fire sleepily.

"Miss Granger? The Floo is reserved for staff use only."

"Snape is barely breathing! I need your help, now!" Hermione couldn't hear Severus anymore, and she didn't know whether it was because her head was technically in another room, because he'd stopped coughing or because he'd stopped breathing. She was terrified it might be the latter.

Madam Pomfrey's manner immediately became businesslike. "Where are you?" Poppy's eyebrows rose at the location, but she briskly responded, "Well, move out of the way, then, and I'll come through."

Hermione pulled her head out of the fire and sat back on the floor for a moment until her head stopped spinning. The fire flared green, and she quickly backed up, making room for the nurse, who gave Hermione a disapproving look before heading toward the bedroom.

It was then Hermione realized she didn't have a stitch on. Nor did Severus.

Highly embarrassed now that there was someone helping Severus, Hermione looked around for something to cover herself with. Scanning the room, she found the blanket Severus had wrapped around her shoulders the evening before. Unbidden, tears started forming, and she sat down on the couch. She didn't feel as though she could face what was going on in the other room at the moment.

It had been a long week. It had been a long few months. It had been a long school career, and she was tired. She rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands, unwilling to deal with anything else at the moment. She hoped Severus was okay, but she couldn't find the energy, strength, or courage to go find out. Instead, she just sat there, letting the tears drip down her cheeks.

A while later, Madam Pomfrey came back into the sitting room just as Hermione was starting to drift off to sleep. Quickly readjusting the blanket around her, Hermione stood and faced the mediwitch.

"Is he all right? What was wrong?" she asked before Poppy could squelch her questions.

"He will be fine, amazingly," Poppy answered coldly. "You should have sent him to see me as soon as he developed the fever, as I assume you've been here the entire evening."

"Of course I've been here all evening, and if I had thought for one moment he would have gone, I would have sent him to you. What's wrong with him?" Hermione answered, starting to feel cross. How was she to know that chickenpox was so dangerous? She'd never heard of anyone dying from it.

"He developed pneumonia thanks to your foolishness."

"Pneumonia?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "I thought he had chickenpox. That's what he told me it was, anyway."

"It is chickenpox, but he's developed complications. He took the potion, I suppose?" She asked with a disapproving air that confused Hermione, who nodded. "Yes, well, it accelerates all aspects of the disease, including the complications, if there are any. And judging by the stress the professor has been under, it's not surprising he was at risk for some nasty ones."

"But how was I to know that?"

"I explicitly told Severus to avoid all stress and activity until his blisters had scabbed at the very least. Obviously, my instructions were not followed."

Hermione looked at the mediwitch, still slightly confused. "That may be so, but he didn't tell me that."

"Did he tell you he had chickenpox?"

"Yes," Hermione answered slowly.

"Then you should have realized he needed to avoid strenuous activities. It's not enough that he has undergone the stress he has in the last few months, looking after you as obsessively as he has, but then when--"

"Looking after me? What are you talking about?" Hermione interrupted.

"Oh, don't play innocent with me. You know he brewed a very difficult potion to cure you after the battle, don't you?" Madam Pomfrey asked condescendingly. Hermione nodded curtly. "Well, then I'm sure you know that afterwards he seemed to take it upon himself to make sure you were all right. He watched your eating habits, worried about your weight loss, and even looked into the potion being to blame for your general malaise. And then all this foolishness over Remus came to the forefront, and he felt he had to save you from the fate you seemed hell bent on throwing yourself into."

Here Madam Pomfrey stopped, huffing in righteous indignation. Hermione stared at her, blinking several times as she processed the mediwitch's version.

"So, I'm at fault because he chose to save me of his own volition?" she finally managed to get out when it seemed Pomfrey wasn't going to say anything further.

"From what I heard, he owed you a life debt. Of course he was going to do anything he could to save you."

An old suspicion floated into Hermione's mind, one that she didn't really want to contemplate, so she tried to ignore it.

"So you believe that Severus only rescued me because the gaes of the life debt forced him to?"

"Why ever else would he do such a thing for one of his students?"

"I don't know, but I do know that he didn't owe me a life debt. Ever. He owed Ronald Weasley a life debt, but that was voided when Ron died. I don't know what you might think, but I expect that my husband chose to save me because that's what he wanted to do, not because of an expired debt."

Madam Pomfrey looked a little taken aback at Hermione's confrontational tone but settled into a dismissive look. "If that's what you want to believe, then go ahead and believe it, deary. But next time, you'd best send your husband to me before he's on the verge of dying."

Hermione stepped in front of the fireplace to block Madam Pomfrey's exit. "How dare you suggest that I'd be so callous!"

Pomfrey just sniffed.

"And I guess, in your mind, I was going after Remus as an insidious plot to snare Severus? I came up with the idea for the stupid law, then went out, plotted seeds of revenge in renegade Death Eaters' minds, making sure they didn't kill me first, and then played along as Dumbledore, Minerva, and everyone else started panicking over the bill because I wanted to marry Severus fucking Snape?

Pomfrey looked a little confused when Hermione mentioned the law, but by Hermione's last words she looked ready to explode. "Well, knowing your penchant for danger, there's few rules left to break, now aren't there?"

"Are you insane? He was my professor! Not only that, but he was the man who had never shown me an ounce of respect before this whole mess came up! Why on earth would I want to marry him if I didn't absolutely have to?" she yelled, forgetting decorum for the moment.

Madam Pomfrey retorted, "Because you know you wouldn't have had a chance with him otherwise!"

"You are insane. He was my teacher! I don't know how it was when you were in school, but not all girls dream of shagging their professors."

Madam Pomfrey visibly swelled with rage. "I don't appreciate your insinuations!"

"Well, neither do I!" Hermione yelled back.

Madam Pomfrey stormed over to the fireplace, grabbed the pot of Floo powder, extracted a handful of powder, and violently slammed the pot back onto the mantle.

"Well, I don't care how ungrateful you are or how reluctant you are to fulfill some other girl's tawdry teenage fantasy; there's to be no boisterous activities until he is fully healed. There's more to bed-rest than just staying in bed!" Then the angry matron disappeared in a twirl of green flame.

Hermione stood there, unsure whether she should be angry, amused or embarrassed, but finally the cold forced her to move toward the bedroom, mind whirling. Still clutching the blanket to her, she silently walked over to Severus, who was lying peacefully in bed. She thought he was asleep, but when she bent down to feel his forehead, he flinched.

"Severus? Are you feeling better?" she asked softly, sitting down beside him. He didn't answer except to turn his head away from her. Brow furrowed, Hermione looked at her husband, trying to figure out what was going on.

"I'm sorry about the calamine. I'd always heard it was good for chickenpox and other itchy rashes."

No response except a twitch in his jaw.

"Are you angry?" she pressed, unsure why he was ignoring her. He didn't give any indication one way or another as to how he was feeling. He just laid there, facing away from her, and feigned sleep. She shrugged, figuring there wasn't much else she could do at this point. She couldn't incite him into an argument as he was supposed to be resting, but as she laid down on the other side of the bed, she couldn't help feeling that whatever he was thinking and feeling, it wasn't restful.

"I am grateful, you know," she whispered, as she closed her eyes again. There wasn't much time till breakfast, but there was enough to make a worthwhile nap. "Sleep well, Severus," she said through a yawn, then drifted off to sleep.

When Hermione woke a couple hours later, Severus was soundly asleep. His blisters had crusted over, which, if anything, made him look worse than he had the night before.

Sighing, she got up and stretched, noticing her thighs were a little on the sore side. She grimaced at the realization that everyone in the school would know what she and Severus had been up to. They would probably be merciless in their teasing and taunting, and she was going to suffer the brunt of it.

It was going to be a rough day.

She shrugged and headed to the bathroom to prepare for the onslaught by enjoying a nice hot shower. After double checking that he actually had shampoo on hand, she got in and started the shower, noticing immediately that the water pressure wasn't very good. She groaned at the thought of how much time it would take to rinse her hair.

She stuck her head under the water and hummed in pleasure as the steamy liquid coated her hair, working its way slowly to her scalp. Once her hair was thoroughly wet, she applied a liberal amount of shampoo and started scrubbing.

As she lathered, her mind drifted to the night before. She hoped that Pomfrey's words had no basis in fact. She hoped that Poppy was just jealous, though Hermione laughed mirthlessly at the idea of any woman being jealous of her choice of husband. On second thought, the sex had been good. If Poppy and he had ever been lovers...

Her mind reeled as she started thinking about Severus' past. He really was a stranger. The only things she knew about him were his teaching and clothing styles (both severe) and that he had a surprisingly wicked sense of humor. She didn't even know his middle initial.

She wondered if he had been married before. She wondered if his parents were still alive, and if so, was he speaking with them? Would she be introduced to them? He had implied he wasn't a pureblood at dinner the other night, but was he a half-blood? She couldn't imagine him being a Muggleborn, but she supposed it could be a possibility.

Realizing she had been standing there lathering her hair for a good five minutes, she moved to rinse. Just as she stuck her head in the water, though, all the heat evaporated. She squeaked as she jumped out of the way of the cold stream, spluttering as some of the shampoo dribbled into her mouth.

Spitting the foul tasting stuff out as best she could, she stuck her hand in the water to see if it had warmed up again. It hadn't. She ducked around the water to turn the heat up, then waited on the fringe, shivering as the persistent cold dungeon air worked its way into the rapidly cooling enclosure.

After a minute of no temperature change, except possibly becoming colder, she scowled as the water pressure improved. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she got back into the freezing spray and quickly rinsed all the suds out of her hair. By the time she was done, her feet and hands had a bluish tint, and she was starting to shiver convulsively.

Grabbing a skimpy towel and silently cursing herself for leaving her wand in the bedroom, she scampered toward her night stand, trying to keep as little contact with the floor as possible. Fumbling her wand with frozen fingers, she managed to cast a Warming Charm, sighing as the warm air enveloped her. Feeling moderately better, she looked at her husband and found him still soundly asleep.

At least I don't have to worry about dressing with him watching, she thought. She had made the first overtures the night before because it seemed a reasonable thing to do, but now that it was daylight, her modesty had returned full force.

Making her way to the wardrobe, she found her clothes and quickly put them on. When she went to get her book bag, though, she ground to a halt as she realized all her books and materials were in her dorm. At the other side of the castle. Up nine stories. Looking at the clock she realized that if she hurried, she could probably make it to the Great Hall before most of the students, anyway, though probably wouldn't be able to finish before they arrived.

She rushed into the sitting room and headed into the dungeon corridor just as she finished buttoning up her robes. Walking as quickly as she could, she was thankful it was still early enough that few students were around, making her trip that much faster.

Clutching the stitch in her side as she ascended the final staircase, she had an epiphany. She could have asked a house-elf to bring her materials down to the dungeon. Cursing once again, both at missing the simple solution and the fact that she was even considering using the poor house-elves in such a selfish and menial way, she soon found herself standing before the Fat Lady.

"Tootroo," Hermione said, still panting heavily.

The Fat Lady looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "And where have you been all night, young lady?"

"In my new quarters. Please open up."

"Not until you give me the password."

"Tootroo!" Hermione replied, quickly getting cross.

"That was the old one. It was changed last night. Had you been in here, where you should be, you'd have known that."

"I am the Head Girl! I'm told when passwords are changed! So let me in, NOW!"

"Tch, tch," the Fat Lady scolded, trying to hide the fun she was having. "Barking orders will get you nowhere. This is what you get when you disregard school rules."

"I did nothing of the sort!" Hermione roared. "As I said, I was in my new quarters, with my new husband, and although my clothes were transferred down, my books and such are still here. If you could let me in with the password I know is still current, then I promise you won't have to deal with my waywardness ever again!"

The Fat Lady just raised another eyebrow. "Husband? Now you're just being silly. Students aren't allowed to marry."

"What about Harry and Ginny? They're married, and you let them in every day."

"The headmaster sanctioned their union."

"And he was the one who performed the ceremony for me! Is that not sanctioning it enough?"

The Fat Lady sniffed and looked away. Hermione ground her teeth in frustration. Just as she was considering how patient Sirius must have been to only slash the annoying painting, the portrait clicked open as a student exited the common room.

Seizing her chance, Hermione swung the portrait to the side, surprising the first year who was climbing through. Hermione muttered an apology as she dashed through the hole and hurried up to her room.

When she entered her chamber, she felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Everything was gone. The bookcases were empty, her ornaments and decorations were gone, even the bed had been stripped bare. She couldn't imagine a more forceful way of saying that she no longer lived there.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to think of what to do now. She sat down slowly on the bare bed and looked around a bit more. The house-elves had been very thorough. It struck her then that her earlier epiphany could still prove useful.

"Dobby?" she hesitantly called. "Dobby, could you help me, please?"

A sudden pop alerted her to the smiling creature's appearance.

"Dobby would be honored to help the friend of Harry Potter, Miss! What can Dobby do for Miss Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to curb her desire to berate the elf for his subservience. "Dobby, I was wondering where all my belongings were put."

The elf looked at her wide-eyed. "Miss Hermione's things are in her new rooms. Dobby put them there himself!"

Hermione closed her eyes and asked the question she now knew the answer to. "And where did you put my books and school supplies?"

"On Miss Hermione's new desk in the sitting room." She opened her eyes to find Dobby wringing his hands. "Was it a bad spot? Dobby can go fix and put them wherever--"

"No, Dobby, that's a great spot. Thank you."

Dobby smiled beatifically, then popped out of sight.

Hermione's shoulders sank. She was going to be late for breakfast. Getting up wearily, she gave her room one last look, then closed the door on it, feeling like she had left a part of herself in there, never to retrieve.

She made her way back to the dungeons as quickly as she could, though she felt as if hurrying was pointless. If she dawdled enough at least she would be able to miss breakfast completely and avoid the gossip for that much longer. The problem was, she was hungry.

She was surprised how few people there were about, though as she descended into the dungeons she met a fair few Slytherins on their way up to the Great Hall. Most of the younger ones she passed just stared at her in awe, but the older students gave her leering looks and snickered openly to her face.

"'Bout time someone put you on a leash, Granger," she heard a shrill voice shout out. Turning around, she found herself face to face with Pansy Malfoy, who was resisting the almost frantic pull of Draco's tugs. "I'd wager Snape will have you waiting on him in no time, just like a house-elf."

Not in the mood for a pointless argument, Hermione just shook her head pityingly at the girl, and said "Yeah, I'm sure that'll be the case. Ask your husband how likely that is, Pansy. I'm sure he'll agree with you." She then turned and continued her descent. She heard Pansy continue her taunting calls, but she refused to rise to the bait any further. If she hurried, at least she wouldn't be the last one in the Great Hall.

When she reached the door to Snape's rooms, however, she realized she couldn't remember the password. He had said it once, loud enough for her to hear, but she had been so exhausted and annoyed by the reception, not to mention nervous about what was to come, she had only been half listening.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, focusing her mind on the memory. Unfortunately, all she kept coming up with her thoughts at the moment, not what Snape was saying. After five minutes, she ran out of patience and kicked the door.

"Mother of Merlin!" she yelled, as she felt her toes object to the hard object they'd been slammed into. "Goddamned mother fucking piece of puke with cherries on top, please, for the love of Circe, open the ruddy door!"

Not surprisingly, nothing happened. She pounded her fist on the door halfheartedly, then turned around and slid down to the floor. She sincerely hoped that this morning was not a harbinger of what the rest of her life was going to be like. She didn't want to become a potty mouth.

Suddenly, the door behind her disappeared, and losing her support, she fell gracelessly onto the floor with a thump. Opening her eyes cautiously, she found herself looking up at Severus in his dressing robe. He looked torn between a laugh and a scowl.

"Have you no memory?" He finally managed to sneer while offering her a hand up.

Hermione rubbed her head as she scowled fiercely but accepted the proffered boost. "Normally, I do, but last night I guess my mind was on other things. What's the password again?"

"Perhaps if you ask nicely, I'll tell you." Snape had moved over to the couch and sank into it wearily. Hermione felt a pang of remorse for waking him.

"I'm sorry for my foul mood, Severus. It's just been a lousy morning so far, and I'm going to be late for breakfast." She paused to look at the clock and groaned, "I am late for breakfast, and... I'm sorry I woke you."

Severus waved off her apology distractedly and then replaced his hand on his eyes as he leaned his head back. "You didn't wake me. Although, even if I had been asleep, I'm sure I would have heard your stream of invective even if you hadn't raised your voice to such a shrill level."

Hermione flushed slightly at his rebuke, though she had her back to him as she searched for her books, finding them right where Dobby had said they would be. Stuffing them in her book bag, she turned to view her husband critically.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked, placing her hand on his forehead.

He tensed up momentarily, then relaxed with a slight sigh. "I'm alive."

She caressed his forehead lightly, weaving her fingers around the scabs still marring his skin. "Well, please rest. I expect Madam Pomfrey would flay me alive if you came down with so much as a sore throat."

He snorted weakly. "Mm. Too late."

"Well, the outlook of my day keeps getting better and better," Hermione half-groused. "Just please don't overdo anything. You scared me silly last night."

"You were already silly," Snape croaked out. Hermione gently whapped him on the top of his head, then kissed the spot tenderly.

"I've got to go if I want any breakfast. Take care of yourself."

He grunted, briefly raising his hand in a dismissive wave. Just as she was about to leave, he called out hoarsely, "Tin Man."

Confused, she turned to look at him.

"The password," he explained simply. Her lips twitched at such an uncharacteristic password, but thinking about it, she realized it was perfect. She nodded and headed out for breakfast.

Avery's Notes: Things will get better, but remember that Hermione's week from Hell hasn't finished yet. The week officially ends Tuesday evening, and it's only Monday morning. *evil grin*

SW69's Notes: The phrase, you can't win for losing, comes to mind here. Hahaha... I wonder what else will be thrown their way before they are able to find peace. Great story so far!