Eight

A/N: As usual, massive thank you to my beta, JunoMagic. Thank you also to all the people who take the time to review. I really appreciate it.

Idiot man! I knew what I was doing! He could have done himself a serious injury!

Ten minutes after she had slammed the door on Severus, Hermione was still fuming.

A freezing charm? Does he want to urinate into a bag for the rest of his life?

In hindsight, it might have been a better idea to tell him what she was doing at some point before she actually did it, but there really hadn't been time. At least that's what Hermione told herself. No mention of the fact that she might have foreseen the difficulties and tried to negate them by forcing him into acquiescence...

Apparently, it hadn't worked.

She stopped her internal rant when she spied his book on the table. The one that he had stopped reading to answer her questions. Feeling sick to her stomach when she realised exactly what she had just done, Hermione sat down heavily and pawed through the book with swimming eyes.

I did a medical procedure on a patient without prior consent. I assumed what would be best and just went ahead.

I'll speak to Healer Payne as soon as I'm allowed out...

Even as she castigated herself for allowing his ridiculous wish to be treated other than as a patient override six years of training and a lifetime of sound judgment, a small part of Hermione's mind pleaded with her to cease the self-loathing.

I only wanted to help...

It broke her heart to see that absolutely no one seemed to care about Severus Snape's well-being. Not even Severus cared.

He should take better care of himself.

This was a clear, unassailable truth in her mind. It was important to her that he not only be physically well, but hopefully also as whole as reasonably possible.

I will help him. I must.

Suitably sobered by her reflection, but with a firm resolve to be totally above reproach for what time he remained in her care, Hermione picked up the book and marched straight back into the bedroom.

If there was nothing she could do for him medically, she would be damned before she didn't try to at least comfort him a little in his distress.

Ten minutes after Hermione had left the bedroom, Severus was still curled up in pain, his traitorous mind wondering if he really should have just endured and at least seen if that method had any positive results.

He visualised the needle again.

Or not.

Desperate for a distraction, he concentrated on listening to the sounds Hermione was making in the next room. It wasn't particularly difficult. The walls of this place might as well have been paper.

Sniffles.

Sweet Merlin! He hadn't been that scathing.

Or had he?

Severus honestly didn't know. He couldn't even recall the last time that he had been confined in closer quarters with another person for any significant stretch of time. Bugger that, it had been an age since he had let anyone close enough to even have a chance at getting to know him. The only people he actually talked to on a semi-regular basis either ignored the snide comments, or snapped right back.

Here, with her, he was in deep, choppy water and had no idea which direction looked the most promising for finding land.

Still listening to her, Severus was more than relieved when the sounds quieted. They made him uncomfortable, hardly better than the pain.

When he heard her footsteps approach and saw the door swing open, Severus trained his eyes on her, still puzzled over the cause of the tears. She looked almost as determined as she had before, but there was something softer there now.

Penitence and humility.

She's sorry? For what?

As he looked deep into her eyes, Severus was entirely unnerved by the lack of information he could glean as to what was bothering to her. Just a general sense that she was pleading with him for forgiveness, for absolution. It seemed not only out of character for her, but most disconcerting for him.

He didn't like this feeling.

Not at all.

She wasn't beholden to him.

No one was.

Still absorbed in his own pain and confusion, Severus didn't object when she intimated a desire to read to him. Whatever made her feel better. He much preferred her eyes smiling and kind to ashamed and sad. If he actually quite liked the way she read, smoothly, but with just enough inflection to make it interesting, he didn't say so.

He knew that he was being weak, but while he was in this state, he would take whatever comfort he could get.

As the pain slowly abated throughout the long day, both Severus and Hermione were too exhausted to even think about preparing any sort of meal when dinnertime arrived.

As Hermione fretted and muttered to herself about how to order takeaway while they were being quarantined, Severus fortunately remembered an alternative.

'Scampy!'

Hermione's eyes goggled when the cheerful house-elf materialised in her bedroom, but had the wit to keep silent as Severus quite politely asked him to get them some sandwiches and pumpkin juice.

As soon as the elf disappeared, presumably for the Hogwarts kitchens, Hermione let fly the questions Severus had fully expected from the beginning.

'Is Scampy your elf?'

'No. Why would my elf be wearing a Hogwarts tea towel?'

'On loan, then?'

'Clearly.'

'May I speak to him when he comes back?'

'If you wish.'

Overall, not even half as bad as what he had expected.

Not wanting to show his concern about her possible motives for wanting to speak with the elf, Severus immediately started on the sandwiches when they arrived, but kept a sharp ear on Hermione's dialogue with Scampy.

'So, how long have you been working at Hogwarts?'

'Scampy was born at Hogwarts during the time of Dumblydore, Mistress.'

'Call me Hermione.'

'Yes, Mistress Hermione.'

That obviously wasn't what she meant, but she didn't press the point.

'Do you enjoy your work? Is it very quiet at the moment with the students gone?'

'Oh, no, Mistress. Us elves is busy cleaning the castle with the little ones gone. Much better clean than when humans be there.' The elf considered something for a moment before adding, 'Scampy likes it at Hogwarts, Mistress Hermione, but I sometimes wishes that there were littler childs.'

Hermione seemed surprised.

'Do you mean babies?'

The elf nodded.

'Hogwarts children is already too old to need us elves care much. We cleans, but older elves tell Scampy that littler childs is even more better work. Watches them grow big and strong.'

To Severus' amusement, Hermione seemed quite appalled by this picture of domestic happiness. She hastily changed the subject.

'And will you be cleaning here while Mr Snape is staying with me?'

Scampy beamed. 'Of course, Mistress Hermione. Headmistress McGonagall tells Scampy to take good care of the Master Severus and Mistress Hermione.'

Nodding at the elf, Hermione just added tiredly, 'Just don't throw out anything of mine, please.'

Scampy bowed so low, his nose almost hit the floor.

'Scampy is pleased to serve the Master and Mistress' family.'

After the had elf disappeared to complete his tasks, Hermione rounded on Severus again.

'Why does he assume that we're married?'

With a full stomach and only a slightly uncomfortable throb in his nether regions, Severus was in a fairly talkative mood.

'Likely because that is the way Minerva presented the situation to him, and none of us have seen fit to contradict her. Do us all a favour and don't even bother trying.'

'Why not?' she demanded. He didn't like the expression on her face. She really was far kinder on the eyes when she wasn't being shrewish.

'Didn't you hear him rattle on about family, home and "little childs"?' Severus asked, exasperated. 'You just try telling him that we are living under the same roof unmarried and watch our food supply dwindle until we yield and tie the knot out of sheer desperation. There is more behind wizarding conservatism than a few stuffy old men, you know.'

From the way she opened and closed her mouth a few times, she hadn't known.

As he watched the sun set, Severus began to feel like he should get out of the bed and prepare for another night on the table. However, when he mentioned it to Hermione, she changed the subject, engaging him in a rather heated discussion about whether tribal magics were compatible with, or totally contradictory to, European theory. It was just so much more comfortable on the bed, and Hermione hadn't even once suggested that he wasn't welcome to share.

After a natural conclusion to their conversation (like all things, people tend to prefer what they were brought up with), Severus ruined the comfortable silence by saying, 'I'm sorry about what I said this morning.' It was an attempt, albeit belated, to make sure that he wasn't the cause of the tears.

She looked confused.

'About your intelligence. You have always been quite a bright witch.'

The breathtaking smile he got in reward for that brought him peace.

When she decided to lie down, still facing him, Severus cautiously followed suit a few moments later.

She wouldn't have blocked my escape route if she really didn't want me to stay.

From this point, their conversation turned to more personal things.

'So, other than Healing, what have you been doing since the war?'

'Disgustingly little, actually. The work and study I do at St Mungo's takes up all my energy and time.'

'Understandable. I would have expected you to put your all into whatever field you chose. Why Healing?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

'Humour me.'

Hermione sighed. She had thought long and hard about this question. It was, after all, one of the big ones, almost certain to come up in interviews. But a practised, rehearsed answer wouldn't be appropriate. Not when he was actually talking to her. 'You didn't see the end, did you? No, of course you didn't,' she mused.

He didn't interrupt, but gave her the time and space she needed to give voice to her thoughts. Eventually, she rolled on her back and spoke to the ceiling. Severus wasn't offended. In the same situation, he wouldn't want her looking into his eyes and reading his emotions, either.

'You didn't see them all. Lying on the floor of the Great Hall. All the dead on one side with everyone who was still alive up near the Head table. The St Mungo's Healers weren't there until later, but, well, to me it looked like they did miracles when they arrived. Even after six years at Hogwarts, I couldn't believe how quickly some people were up and walking. It was just amazing that so many of the terrible spells used that day could be remedied by the hard work and patience of the Healers and by the innovations and research of those who came before them. I wanted to be part of that.'

Severus had no response to offer. Not moving a muscle, he let her words turn into a respectful silence as they both reflected on those she hadn't mentioned.

Those that the Healers hadn't been able to save.

After a moment, Severus was glad when Hermione took her turn to ask him a question. The war was behind them now, and he didn't particularly want to dig up all his old demons. Here, with her, just wasn't the time or place.

'By all accounts, your business is thriving. Until recently, every second vial I opened at St Mungo's was one of yours.'

After acknowledging her praise, Severus deftly turned the conversation back to Hermione's current work and future plans. As he mulled over her responses, he was struck by how much she had changed in the years since she had been his student. The enthusiasm for learning was still there, but tempered by better knowledge of herself and the needs of others. Their conversation was rather easy and free. It helped that Severus knew many of her contemporaries, both at St Mungo's and otherwise.

When Hermione's voice grew hoarse, he decided that it was only fair to share a little bit of himself too. Not much about his childhood, that was too depressing. Just small snippets of his life at Hogwarts as a student. The Marauder-free version.

After he finished one tale about a Hufflepuff boy who somehow managed to turn Minerva's favourite biscuit tin into a tartan fish, Severus realised that for the first time in years, he actually hadn't needed to do something to occupy his hands at any point during the day. And yet, awful pain and suffering aside, it had been a welcome change away from his own thoughts. She had even challenged him a little sometimes with her firm opinions and thoughtful questions.

At some point during the evening, they had both decided that it would be better to sit up; Hermione in particular often used hand movements to punctuate her thoughts. However, at the conclusion of Severus' story, they both lay back down and rolled onto their backs in a sort of mutual understanding. While Hermione closed her eyes to welcome sleep, Severus lay wide awake, mulling over the other problem he'd been toying with on and off all day.

After a few more moments of silence, not knowing whether she was awake or not, he finally spoke up.

'I never raped anyone,' he whispered, 'but I have seen it done.'

She was awake, but only just. Rolling over so that she was facing him again, she patted him clumsily on the arm before settling far closer to him than he thought appropriate.

'I know,' she murmured sleepily.

Though she couldn't possibly know, Severus understood that she was giving him her understanding. Unwilling to disturb her by attempting to get out of the bed, Severus finally forced himself to relax and closed his eyes, too. Worrying about their proximity was senseless; he knew that he could trust himself not to push the boundaries. If she was going to be under the sheet, he would be on top of it.

His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was that he was glad that he had told her.

It was important for her to know.