Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has taken time to review! The next few chapters are each on the short side, simply because of where the breaks worked best in the flow of the story.

As always (whether I remember to say it specifically, or not), these characters all belong to JKR, as much as I would like to keep them for myself ...

Chapter 8

Hermione arrived early at breakfast the next morning, feeling lighter and happier now that she was no longer deceiving Severus. She was still amazed at his reaction to her confession – she never, in a million years, would have seen that coming.

She had been so shocked at the time that she hadn't even noticed how much his laughter turned her on – but if her dreams last night were any indication, it was a lot. She had dreamed of him laughing with her, even as they made love, and it was so delightful to have the joy merge with the passion – even if it was still just a dream.

And he apparently still wanted her company – it seemed she had not been imagining that, after all. His parting comment had sent a little thrill through her. When had he unbent enough to tease her?

And even the whole Legilimens thing – sure, she was mad that he had tried that on her. But part of her was a little bit flattered – thrilled, even – that he was curious enough about her thoughts to try to read them. As long as he kept his promise not to do it again, she thought darkly.

"That's quite a frown," Severus said as he slid into the chair next to her. "Care to share?"

"Oh, it's nothing important," she said. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he returned. He had reverted to his usual serious demeanor, and she smiled at him.

"How was the rest of your evening?" she asked, just because she didn't know what else to say.

"Brief," he said. "As you know, it was quite late when you left. I retired almost immediately."

"Oh," she said, frowning slightly. "Me, too. I hope I didn't keep you up too late."

He looked at her askance. "That was not a complaint or criticism, Hermione. It was a statement of fact."

"Oh," she said again. After a moment, she added, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I feel so awkward this morning."

He shrugged. "We had a relatively intense discussion last evening."

"Yes, but you don't feel awkward, do you?" she pointed out, suddenly irritated that she was always flustered and he was always smooth and hard to read.

He said, very quietly, "If you must know, I feel awkward most of the time." After a pause, he continued, "You see, apparently I do trust you, at least a little, or I wouldn't have told you that."

"Really?" she asked, her mood improving again. "You trust me?" She smiled delightedly. "And you feel awkward?"

"You don't have to sound quite so happy about it," he grumbled.

"Actually, I'm more surprised than happy – you hide it so well," she said admiringly. "I wish I could do that."

"You're fine the way you are," he said offhandedly.

"You think so?" she asked, shocked.

"Yes, I do," he said. "Although you could use a bit more self-assurance – and not the kind that you have to take like medicine," he warned.

"Oh," she sighed. "I don't really know how to go about getting more self-assurance without making a potion."

"You don't need a potion," he insisted. "You just need a little time, and you'll develop the real thing."

"Really?" she asked. It had never occurred to her that she might someday be truly confident without the aid of a potion.

"Yes, really," he said impatiently. "Few people are truly self-assured until they've lived a little. And Confidence-Boosting Potions interfere with the development of the real thing."

"Oh," she said, "I never thought of that, although I suppose it makes sense."

She finished her breakfast, then stood. "I have to go meet Minerva – she must have come and gone very early this morning. I got here early and I didn't see her at all, did you?"

"No, I haven't seen her, either," Severus replied, glancing around the room.

"Okay," Hermione said. "I'll see you at lunch, and then maybe afterwards, I can try another new potion?" she asked hopefully.

"Certainly," Severus replied. "Have a good morning, Hermione."

"You, too, Severus."

By lunchtime, Hermione was starting to worry. She hadn't seen Minerva all morning, and she had had only a brief message sent by owl to say that Minerva was feeling under the weather and would not be leaving her quarters that day. She asked Hermione to continue with the reading and the transfigurations they had begun the day before.

So Hermione had done as Minerva asked, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was really wrong. It just wasn't like Minerva to stay in her quarters all day. And Hermione wasn't even sure if Minerva had been at dinner last night – she had been so focused on Severus that anyone might have been there, or not, and she wouldn't have noticed.

When she got to lunch, she found Severus already there, sipping pumpkin juice and preparing to eat a sandwich. She greeted him absently and joined him. As she ate, she kept watching for Minerva to show up, even though her message had clearly stated that she wouldn't leave her quarters today.

After a while, he asked, sounding mildly curious, "You're very quiet. Is something wrong?"

"What?" she asked, really looking at him for the first time. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. At least, I hope it's nothing. It has to be nothing. Right?" She really needed reassurance.

He didn't give it to her. "I can't answer that, since I have no idea what 'it' is," he said reasonably.

"Never mind," she said, unaccountably disappointed. "I'm sure it's nothing." She fell silent again, looking back toward the door, and felt herself fall back into her worry for Minerva.

Awhile later, Severus dragged her from her thoughts again. He sounded insistent. "You're starting to make me worry, Hermione. What are you so anxious about? And why are you watching the door?"

"She said it was nothing serious," Hermione said, not caring that she wasn't really answering his question. She just needed to hear out loud that it was nothing serious, even if she was the one reassuring herself.

"Who said what was nothing serious?" Severus asked, and now he had progressed to sounding frustrated. "Would you please look at me and tell me what's going on?"

"What?" she asked again. She finally looked him in the eye, and she could see him resisting the temptation to just read her thoughts and get it over with. She pushed her worry aside and said softly, "Thank you, Severus."

"For what?" he groused. "All I did was ask you what was bothering you – a question, I might add, that you have still not answered in any coherent way."

He was really worried about her, she realized. "I'm sorry," she said, as he frowned darkly when she smiled at the realization that he must care about her if he was this upset that she was worrying. "Minerva wasn't in the lab this morning – she sent a message saying she was under the weather and that it was nothing serious. I just can't help worrying that it might be worse than she's letting on."

"Why's that?" he prompted when she fell silent again.

"I don't really know," she admitted. "It's nothing I can put my finger on, but something seems off." She paused, thinking. What had her so worried? Realizing at last, she said softly, "I guess it's that it's so unusual for her to isolate herself, and she's not young, you know?"

"True," he said. "I could check on her, if you like." He looked a little surprised at his own words.

"Would you?" She was so relieved at his offer that, before she could think better of it, she reached out and squeezed his hand where it rested on the table. "Thank you, Severus. I won't be able to relax until I'm sure it's really not serious." When she realized what she had done, she felt herself blush, and she started to draw her hand away. She was amazed when he turned his hand over and squeezed hers back.

"Relax now," he ordered. "I'll drop by and see her right after lunch. You can go ahead to my lab." He gave her the password.

Despite her worry, all she could think was, Wow! He really does trust me!

She relaxed and enjoyed the rest of lunch.

As Severus approached Minerva's quarters, he wondered what in heavens he thought he was doing. Minerva was probably fine – it was probably nothing serious, just as she had said. She was probably resting, and would probably be annoyed with him for disturbing her.

He should just go back to the lab immediately and tell Hermione that everything was fine.

Unfortunately, he found himself reluctant to lie to her. Which was more disturbing than he cared to admit, actually – he had never had a problem lying to anyone when it suited his purposes. Normally, his lies had involved subjects related to the Dark Lord and protecting that annoying Potter or his arrogant friends, but he wasn't above lying to prevent his own embarrassment.

Or at least, he never had been before – but he was suddenly finding that knowing for sure that someone trusted him changed everything. He had never had anyone place such faith in him before. Not even Dumbledore, who certainly seemed to trust him – and with fairly important issues, too – had ever evinced such total relief and freedom from worry as Hermione just had when Severus promised to check on Minerva for her.

And so, wishing he was anywhere else, but determined to keep his promise, Severus found himself knocking at Minerva's door. After several long moments with no answer forthcoming, Severus frowned and knocked again. Perhaps Hermione's concern was not unfounded after all.

Still getting no answer, he knocked again, louder this time, and called, "Minerva? It's Severus. Are you all right?"

She still didn't reply, and he wondered if she was even there. Frowning more deeply, he considered what to do. Most of his options involved invading Minerva's privacy in one way or another, which he didn't think she would appreciate. He found himself more concerned about that than he wanted to be, but there it was. Apparently, his willingness to trust and be trusted by Hermione was having ripple effects in other parts of his life.

He finally decided to consult with Dumbledore. That way, he could be sure that he wasn't doing something inappropriately intrusive simply because Hermione was worried. He hurried over to Dumbledore's office, gave this week's password ("jelly beans") and knocked at the door. Dumbledore called, "Enter."

Looking up as Severus entered, he said, "Severus! Did I forget a meeting?"

"No," Severus said simply.

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "What brings you here? And in such an agitated state?"

He felt a little ridiculous, but he announced gravely, "Miss Granger is concerned about Minerva."

"Miss Granger is?" Dumbledore asked, sounding surprised. "Then why are you here, instead of Miss Granger?"

Severus felt a flush creep up his face, but he gamely replied, "Miss Granger did not feel it would be appropriate for her to check on Minerva, so she requested that I do so."

"That's very – nice of you, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "I must confess, I'm a bit surprised that Miss Granger approached you with her concern. However, that is neither here nor there. I assume you checked on Minerva and she is not in good condition? No," he amended, "If she was not in good condition, you would have simply provided her with an appropriate remedy, rather than involving me." He dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. "You may not know this, Severus, but you generally keep your own counsel about matters like this." Eyes twinkling with some inner amusement that Severus didn't even try to decipher, Dumbledore finally reached the right conclusion. "Am I to understand, then, that when you went to check on Minerva, you were not able to ascertain her condition?"

Growing impatient with Dumbledore's less-than-efficient thought process, Severus grumbled, "She didn't answer the door. And before you ask, I knocked several times, loudly, and I called out, as well."

"Did you try ... anything else?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

"I didn't wish to be rude, or invade her privacy, without consulting you first."

Again, Dumbledore rang annoyingly with pleased surprise. "That was very ... considerate of you, Severus."

Severus's patience was now hanging by a thread. He had known it was a bad idea to take this on for Hermione. Dumbledore was even now trying to figure out why he was suddenly so involved with other people's concerns, and Severus could only hope that his agile mind didn't draw the wrong conclusions.

Or the right ones, either, a voice in his head whispered.

Suddenly realizing he had been silent too long, and that Dumbledore was looking at him curiously, waiting for some response, Severus finally said, "It is easier for me when Minerva is not unduly irritated with me."

"Hmmmm," was all Dumbledore said. He continued watching Severus consideringly for several long moments, during which it was all Severus could do not to squirm like a schoolboy. Finally, he stood. "Well, let's go, then."

Severus stood and, without a word, followed Dumbledore back to Minerva's quarters. He was annoyed that Dumbledore's demeanor said he was merely humoring Severus. He waited several feet away while the older man repeated his own earlier actions, with the same lack of results. Then, suddenly seeming to take the situation more seriously, he gave the password, and the ward immediately granted them access.

Severus waited in the entryway, uncharacteristically uncertain of what to do, while Dumbledore began looking around, calling out, "Minerva? Didn't you hear me knocking? I hear you're under the weather, and people are concerned."

Severus finally heard a response – a weak, incoherent moan coming from the direction of what he assumed was the bedroom. Dumbledore must have heard it, too, because he hurried in that direction, now looking more gravely concerned than he had mere moments ago.

"Oh, Minerva," Severus heard Dumbledore say in a very anxious tone. "How long have you been like this?" Severus couldn't make out her response, but apparently Dumbledore did, because he exclaimed, "Since midnight?! Why didn't you call someone? Or make a potion? Or do something?" Suddenly, he called out, with an unusual tone of command, "Severus, get in here!"

Grateful to finally be told what to do, Severus hurried toward the room. He glanced at the bed, where Minerva looked frail and sick and every one of her seventy-plus years. She coughed weakly, and his concern increased even more than it would have if her cough had been strong.

Dumbledore said, "Minerva tells me she didn't feel that bad initially, but she woke around midnight feeling too weak and sick to even call for help."

Severus frowned. "She sent an owl to Hermione this morning." He didn't notice the sharp look Dumbledore gave him at his use of Hermione's first name.

"Arranged it ... last night," Minerva whispered weakly, between wheezing, labored breaths.

"Well, obviously, you're in much worse shape now than you were then," Severus replied. "Other than the cough, what are your symptoms?"

"Trouble breathing," she replied. "Fever ... congestion ... aching ... all over ... general weakness."

"All right, sounds like some sort of flu, with possible pneumonia. I'll go fetch a potion."

Dumbledore nodded. "Meanwhile, I'll stay here and help Minerva drink some tea."

Severus was hurrying toward the door and didn't hear her reply.