Six

A/N: With thanks to my beta, JunoMagic. Another huge thanks to all the lovely people who have reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback.

Feeling more refreshed than she had in months, Hermione stretched in her bed and contemplated what she might do with her day. If yesterday was any indication – providing his pain didn't get any worse – Severus was best left to his own devices. Perhaps she could direct him to her wardrobe. That hadn't been cleaned out since she had moved in either...

Wait. Where is he?

Jumping out of bed a little more slowly than the day before, in an attempt to avoid another embarrassing episode in the middle of her bedroom floor, Hermione went straight to the living room with a keen desire to see exactly how good Severus' Transfiguration skills were. He might be a brilliant potions maker and duellist, but Hermione privately doubted that he had kept up with complex Transfiguration work as the years went by. Like everything else in life, practice made perfect when it came to magic. Most wizards and witches didn't bother with things that didn't relate to everyday life once leaving school, and Transfiguring a table into any sort of bed worth sleeping on was best left to masters of the art.

Sure enough, Severus was sprawled uncomfortably on her table looking for all the world like some sort of road kill, so awkward was the positioning of his limbs. He had slept in his clothes from the day before, only covered by a rather thin-looking sheet, noticeably elevated in the groin area. Not that she was looking. In fact, Hermione had long become accustomed to such things. The Healers at St Mungo's often joked that rounds these days had become a 'tent inspection'.

However, what she was not prepared to see was that the table was, in fact, still a table. It didn't even look like he had bothered to lengthen it to accommodate for his height.

Didn't he even try?

Tiptoeing past him in the hope that he might sleep a bit longer, Hermione headed straight for the only appliance that she actually used in her kitchen: the coffee machine.

'Can I assume that the next cup is for me?'

Whirling around, expecting to see him right behind her, Hermione was surprised to see that Severus hadn't moved a muscle.

Surely it can't be good for him to sleep like that?

Hermione was still in such a spectacularly good mood from waking up sniffle-free, she didn't even mind that his manner of requesting a cup of coffee left much to be desired.

'Do you take milk or sugar?' she asked brightly, inhaling deeply in satisfaction as the smell of coffee began to waft gently through the flat.

'You are entirely too cheerful this morning, and neither,' came his terse reply. It was a statement of fact, not a rebuke, leaving Hermione in an even better mood. In the few moments she'd had to herself since becoming Severus Snape's carer, she had been most doubtful about how well she would fare with his infamous temper.

'You didn't have to sleep on the table,' she informed him, as she handed him a steaming mug of strong, black coffee. By this time, he was sitting rigidly upright on the tabletop, one hand in his lap as he scrutinised her with keen eyes.

'Yes, I did,' he said, glaring at her as if she had forced him to sleep on a hard table. 'You certainly look better this morning.'

'But you woke up in my bed. Wasn't it implied that I wouldn't mind you returning to it?' she asked, unwilling to let the subject drop.

'Has it not crossed your mind that I might not want to sleep in your bed? That I might feel more comfortable on my own?' he snapped, giving her one of his trademark glares.

'Oh.'

In all honesty, it hadn't occurred to Hermione that he would actually prefer somewhere ten different kinds of uncomfortable to sharing the bed with her.

Well, she thought wryly, I suppose it might have been a bit conceited to assume that he was thinking only of my comfort.

'Why didn't you at least Transfigure it into something a little more comfortable?' she heard herself ask, mentally kicking herself as soon as she'd said it. It wasn't important, and she hadn't even thanked him for the potion yet.

He sniffed. 'The hardness of the bed doesn't bother me.'

Hermione gave him a funny look at that statement, but let it pass.

Is he trying to tell me that he's uncomfortable in other areas?

'How is your penis this morning, Professor?'

A vein began to throb in Severus' temple.

'What did I say about that word?' he hissed.

'Penis?'

'Your obsession with male anatomy aside, I distinctly remember telling you not to call me "Professor",' he spat.

Potions wasn't the only thing Hermione had learnt in Severus Snape's classroom. His slight changes in facial expression were essential knowledge to every student who actually cared about their marks. No point putting him in a worse mood right before he collected the vials. That was just asking for an 'Evanesco'.

Right now, Hermione was most intrigued by this latest look. Pink spots of either embarrassment or rage graced his cheeks. Though she wasn't sure which emotion it was, she was definitely exploring uncharted territory.

Since he had also banned her from acting as she was accustomed to doing with patients, Hermione had no choice but to be blunt about what they were going to have to do.

'You need to answer my question, Severus, and after you've had something to eat, I am going to need to inspect the afflicted organ. There is some information that should be recorded as the illness progresses.'

As expected, he balked. 'It hurts like bloody hell! What else do you need to know?'

'Length, girth, colouration...'

'No.'

'What?'

'Pardon. You are not going to impress your patients if your grasp of the English language is elementary at best. I was very clear. I will not allow you anywhere near my afflicted organ.' He looked absolutely horrified at the thought.

This she had seen before. If Hermione could collect all the time men had wasted in St Mungo's worrying about size, shape, and other such totally irrelevant things, she could take a holiday.

'You have nothing to be ashamed of, it's nothing I haven't seen before, and I assure you that the records will not be accessible to anyone else. It is merely a comparison with your own records to check for any abnormalities.'

Apparently the wrong thing to say.

'When?' he asked icily, his eyes boring into hers. 'When have you ever seen my genitalia?'

'When I gave you a sponge bath yesterday, but that wasn't what I meant. Realistically, I've probably seen more than you have...'

He cut her off again. By now, the pink spots on his cheeks had become decidedly red, and a vein was beginning to throb in his forehead. 'Your relative promiscuity is of no interest to me, and I do not appreciate your suggestion that I am some sort of peeping Tom. Why would you imagine I had seen many?'

It was Hermione's turn to get frustrated. 'Because you went to boarding school with a whole lot of other boys,' she said. 'Or did you just not open your eyes in the showers?'

'It would be none of your business if I did.'

Sick of their arguments going in pointless circles, Hermione was about ready to give up. She had one card left to play.

'But don't you want to know if there are abnormalities?'

'We keep coming back to this. What concern is it of yours if my reproductive health is compromised?'

'So you wouldn't care if you did become completely impotent after all this?'

Silence.

Sighing her wordless, 'I told you so,' Hermione was willing to compromise.

'We can do it before breakfast if you wish. Get it over and done with.'

One curt nod and a few buttons later, Severus Snape was once again lying prone on the kitchen table with his erection in full view.

And what a beautiful sight it was.

Hermione hadn't been lying or exaggerating earlier. She had seen so many penises over the last month or so, she was quite sure that the only other women who could even come close to matching her expertise were London's working ladies.

And Severus Snape had the most wonderful penis she had ever seen.

Neither too long nor too short, too thin or too wide, he was large without making her wince, and overall it managed to be highly aesthetically pleasing. At least, as aesthetically pleasing as a very odd sort of stick poking out of someone's body could be. It brought to mind Michelangelo's 'David', beautiful, detailed and proportionate, but all the better for being at attention; warmer, longer and attached to a man whose skin was real rather than marble-smooth.

With uncharacteristic eagerness and interest, Hermione cleansed her hands and got ready for her latest foray into fondling, groping, and this time, admiring.

That is to say, a completely professional medical evaluation of the affected body part...

Lie back and think of England, Severus thought wryly as he fought against all his body's instincts telling him to grab his trousers and bolt. It wasn't that he objected to women touching him, quite the contrary actually, but despite their unorthodox setting, Severus was beginning to regret that he hadn't insisted upon a formal Healer-patient relationship with Hermione. Courtesy of her openly admiring gaze and bright eyes, this was far too much like being on display at a zoo.

It's a moot point anyway. I am hardly in a position to owl her for my results and resolve never to see her again...

It started as a fairly casual, visual inspection as she scribbled things down on a piece of parchment.

So far, so good. Maybe this won't be completely humiliating after all.

The first touch of her soft, warm hand almost made Severus jump off the table.

Merlin!

'Relax,' she said huskily, her fingers never ceasing their movement.

Gods...she's even beginning to sound seductive in my mind...

For minute or two, it was almost relaxing. Severus allowed that the light touches were fairly pleasant. At least she was gentle. It actually took the edge off the pain for a little while, as he could focus on something else.

Unfortunately, focusing solely on the touches turned out to be a terrible idea. After a slow build up of more innocent touches, a certain caress when she oh so slowly trailed her fingers up and around as she moved them to a new position caused something to snap in Severus' mind, a sort of numb roaring inside urging him to jerk hard into her hand.

Struggling not to whimper, he wished fervently to whatever deity was listening that he would be spared. He would take dull, directionless pain any day.

This was far, far worse.

Trying desperately to think of dead kittens, or the time he had caught a glimpse of Albus' third nipple, had failed five minutes ago. However, just when he thought that this couldn't get any worse, Severus felt a warm breath down there and felt himself twitch just as a low moan somehow erupted from between his tightly pursed lips.

What the bloody fuck is she doing?!

Jumping up and off the table in a belated attempt to hide his totally inappropriate reaction to her ministrations, and almost kicking her head in the process, Severus put as much space as he could between them before rounding on Hermione.

'What was that?' he snarled.

She blinked a few times, looking a bit dazed before she answered, 'I was simply taking a closer look at the line of your perineal raphe.'

'My what?' he snapped.

She visibly gathered herself together and repeated in what Severus thought was her worst know-it-all voice, 'Your perineal raphe. The line that runs up from your anus...'

'Stop.' Severus cut her off before she could get any further. 'I do not want, or need, to know.'

She huffed in irritation. 'I was almost finished. How will we compare tomorrow's results if the tests are not completed today?'

'There will be no tests tomorrow. I refuse to be manhandled in such a manner again. If you just bloody well did your job the way you were supposed to, none of this would have happened!'

'I hurt you?' She actually looked seriously concerned. The know-it-all tone was gone, replaced by those fucking haunting brown eyes just begging for absolution.

'No,' he replied shortly, unable to meet her eyes as he began to feel slightly guilty.

Damn her for looking so bloody innocent! And damn me nine times to Hades for enjoying it!

'What was wrong, then?'

Severus glanced at her incredulously.

'You can't bloody well guess?' He felt totally justified in his sourness as he watched her eyes open wide and her cheeks burn.

A moment later, the know-it-all made her return. 'That isn't a bad thing, you know,' she started, turning away from him to search through the fridge that had been empty until the previous afternoon. 'Why don't you go and have a shower? We can discuss your treatment options further over breakfast.'

Feeling thoroughly disgusted with both himself, and her, for how that had turned out, Severus swept out of the room without a word, banging the bathroom door behind him.

Merlin save me, he enjoyed it too...

As she heard the bathroom door slam, Hermione stopped hiding in the fridge and felt her knees give way as she slid slowly down to the floor and closed her eyes.

How did it happen?

She'd known she was playing with fire the moment her fingers had touched him and he had sort of twitched.

So responsive!

Though she had by no means indulged her own freaks of fancy during his examination, Hermione's heart had been racing as she tried her hardest not to spook him or be at all rough.

With his eyes closed, he looked peaceful, yet Hermione could feel the tension in his body winding ever tighter as she methodically ticked off the boxes of a thorough evaluation of his penis.

Peering closer at what looked like the most perfectly straight perineal raphe she had ever seen, Hermione had been completely surprised when he had suddenly leapt off the table and only just avoided being hit in the face with it as he struggled to get as far away from her as possible.

Now she just wanted to sink through the floor in mortification at what had just inadvertently occurred.

My kitchen table will never be the same again...

She had pleasured him.

During a medical examination.

She, Hermione Granger, had just laid hands on Severus Snape's dangly bits, and he had actually liked it.

With the call to the wives of England running through her head, suddenly Hermione felt far more interested than she had before in that French research.

Maybe there is something to it after all...

Trying manfully to distract herself from such inappropriate thoughts about a patient, Hermione looked dubiously at her wand and wondered what she could produce for 'breakfast'.

Perhaps it would be best to go for something safe, like toast.