Ten

A/N: With thanks to my beta, JunoMagic.

On waking to the harsh glare of mid-morning sunshine, Hermione took a brief moment to wonder if her dreams had suddenly become a lot more explicit, or if she really had had sex with Severus Snape in the wee hours of the morning.

No clothes on below waist, overall feeling of stickiness...

So, it had happened.

Now, in broad daylight, Hermione felt disgusted at the thoughts that she'd harboured before going to sleep next to him a few hours before.

Merlin! I'm no better than that Parkinson woman! Totally deluding myself like some sort of desperate old maid! My professional career is just about to start, I have friends that I'm sure would be here if I weren't being quarantined, and one day, maybe I will find a man who appreciates me. This is a medical treatment, not a steamy affair or fling. The best I can hope to get out of this is a useful penfriend!

Deciding that a shower was not only desirable, but also absolutely necessary to clear her mind and get her traitorous emotions back on track, Hermione unstuck herself from Severus and quickly made her way to the bathroom without a second glance.

She missed seeing the way a head turned and a single black eye opened to watch her very nice bottom as she made her way across the room.

Severus waited until Hermione was out of the bathroom and making breakfast before he so much as moved an inch. Taking stock of his physical condition, he was pleased to find that he was only at half-mast this morning. Almost no pain at all.

However, any joy he might have derived from his new pain-free state was completely incompatible with the self-disgust Severus felt when he considered his actions during the night. The morning sunshine had brought more than one thing into clearer focus, and Severus couldn't justify his weakness. No pain was so terrible that he had to prey on a young woman's vulnerability and desire to help. He felt like he had tricked her into sex.

It didn't matter that it had been her idea. Severus knew how the world would view what had happened the previous night. For once, he was even inclined to agree with general opinion. As the more experienced, responsible party, he should have nipped the idea of such a ridiculous 'treatment' in the bud. That would have been that. He certainly shouldn't have encouraged her to greater heights of passion and enjoyed it.

She's my Healer. Not my 'friend'. Gads, I even sound dubious about it in my mind...

Keen to rid himself of her scent, dispose of the evidence the more cynical part of his mind corrected, Severus dragged himself to the shower. As he scrubbed every inch of himself clean, he did his best to put it behind him.

It doesn't matter. It won't happen again.

Fifteen minutes later, Severus walked out into the kitchen to see yet another Hermione-cooking-disaster.

Apparently the girl who burns toast also explodes eggs...

Flicking his wand to clean up the mess, Severus took the frypan away from the very frustrated-looking young woman and enquired mildly, 'I take it you never joined the Magical Cookery Club during your time at Hogwarts?'

'Clearly.' Hermione smiled at Severus, moving away from the stove to watch as he magically cleaned the pan and prepared to start their breakfast afresh.

Severus' tone was guarded when he continued, 'I was surprised when you told me that you'd chosen to specialise in both Spell Damage and Potion Poisoning. Although your performance in my class was always acceptable, I rather thought you naturally favoured Charms.' He was truly curious, hoping that she would take the compliment for what it was.

She sighed in agreement as she put a couple of pieces of bread into a Muggle toaster. 'Yes, Charms came more easily to me from the beginning, but I always enjoyed the challenge that Potions presented, both then and now,' she admitted.

That was not easy for Severus to understand. He had always excelled at Potions and Defence, and concentrated heavily on them as a result. The other subjects had always been more or less just things to wade through. Transfiguration in particular had been a real struggle. While his pride had demanded that his marks be better than average, he hadn't hesitated to dismiss the details of the area from his mind the moment he left his N.E.W.T. examination room.

'Yet cooking and other household spells are mostly Charm work,' he added blandly, wondering if she would bite.

The look on her face as she brought the toast to him (barely browned this time) was pensive.

'My Charms haven't been good for a while now,' she confessed. 'I don't know why, but though I still mastered the complex Charms needed for healing quicker than the other trainees, they often aren't as powerful as I think they should be.' She didn't meet his eyes as she added, 'That may be why you woke up earlier than I expected.'

Dismissing her misplaced guilt, since he was less than eager to address his own recent failings, Severus honed in on the details which interested him. He had noticed that Hermione rarely used her wand around the house. Unlike for Muggles, who had an excuse, magical cleaning was hardly more than lifting a finger. Knowing that Hermione wasn't a particularly lazy person by nature, Severus had begun to harbour a growing suspicion about the lack of care around her home. If he was right, he would curse the incompetent dunderheads she associated with until they learnt to open their eyes and pay attention. St Mungo's standards had slipped if her superiors couldn't recognise a basic problem when they saw one.

'And easier Charms, ones you shouldn't have to think about, they don't really work at all?'

Hermione nodded, eyes wide as she realised that he was actually going somewhere with the questions. This was something she had meant to address for a long time. It was just that she could never find the time, and it was hardly debilitating. It only really happened around the kitchen and with other things that she could usually do using a Muggle method.

'Molly Weasley actually taught me to cook the summer we stayed with her before what would have been my seventh year, but I've never been able to get as good results since. When I started exploding things with simple charms to slice vegetables, I gave up on it altogether.'

'Excuse me for a moment.' Severus swept out of the living room, breakfast half-eaten, hoping that Minerva had the foresight to send his favourite pair of dragon hide boots. Or just the right one. That would work just as well.

It should still be there. I can't recall taking it out...

Returning a few moments later, Severus held out an unfamiliar wand to her and said, 'Try a basic charm with this.'

Ensuring that she took it directly from his hand, he watched with great satisfaction as Hermione took the wand and fumbled with it for a moment.

Did she just feel a jolt of magic?

Pointing the new wand at the eggs, she must have commanded them non-verbally to crack themselves neatly onto the frypan. While Hermione closed her eyes and grimaced as she waited for some sort of aftershock, Severus watched with great satisfaction as the three eggs split themselves and gently slid into the pan. She didn't even break the yolks.

'Better?' he enquired smugly.

'How did you know this would work?' Hermione demanded, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to make sense of the information before her.

'I guessed.' He let her gnash her teeth with frustration for a moment before continuing, 'I believe that sometime between Molly Weasley teaching you to cook and the present day, you must have outgrown your wand.'

She shook her head impatiently. 'That much is obvious now, Severus. I want to know where you got this from, and how you knew that this wand would be a better fit.'

This was the part he was more reluctant to talk about, but he supposed that if he wanted her to consider keeping it, he had to tell her a little bit.

'That was my wand during my time at Hogwarts. Birch, twelve inches with a unicorn hair core. Certain... life choices caused me to outgrow it almost immediately upon leaving school.' A quick glance in her direction showed nothing but open interest. No judgment or censure. He relaxed a little more and continued, 'As for why it works so well for you, I gave it to you with the intent that you keep it.'

When she made to protest, Severus cut her off.

'The wand chooses the witch. That one I only ever kept as a spare for emergencies,' he said, tone brooking no argument.

Stupid thing hasn't worked properly for almost thirty years now...

'Then take my wand,' she said, offering him her old wand.

Severus wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated.

Gryffindors...

'That really isn't necessary,' he began, but was cut off by Hermione getting up to more or less brandish the wand in his face.

'If you wish me to take your wand with good grace, the least you could do is take mine in return, for whatever emergencies you might face.' The look in her eye was fierce and determined.

And a bit of a turn on.

'As you wish.'

Severus' sudden acceptance surprised even him. He could have argued that she should keep it to be her spare, that he could easily get another, Merlin, he could have merely told her to go to Ollivander's next time she was Diagon Alley, but something inside him was selfish. It wasn't really magical, or unbreakable by any means, but the act of consciously surrendering your wand to another was steeped in symbolism and intimacy. The birch wand had been a part of him for several years, and now it would be a part of her. Just as her wand would be part of him.

Get over it, old man. It's hardly taking advantage of her if she's forcing you to take the bloody stick!

The truth of the matter was that Severus Snape would never have considered giving his wand to just anyone. Originally fetching it just for testing, Severus had decided that giving her a wand was a good way to repay her for the pains she was taking to preserve his health and welfare.

Nothing more than quid pro quo...

He certainly hadn't expected to get her wand in return, but once offered, it was difficult to resist owning that very small part of her, too. He didn't particularly care that his acceptance came close to ruining his earlier resolution to be aloof. As mortifying as the thought might be, he actually liked the version of Hermione Granger he'd been getting to know the day before, and he knew how to value that which was precious.

It wasn't that he had no friends; he had managed to patch things up with Minerva, Filius and assorted others after the war, but Severus knew that he would never be as open with them as he might be with Hermione. There was simply something in the way that she generously kept giving to him that was irresistible, and he was clearly finding it difficult not to repay her in kind.

Not that he planned to tell her that.

'If you have no other pressing matter of business, I suggest you spend some time today putting that wand through its paces.'

'Just one more!'

'You said that thirty minutes ago!'

Hermione knew that Severus would yield with just a bit more cajoling on her part. After the first two times that she'd worn him down, he seemed more or less resigned to his fate, reserving only the right to whinge and complain as much as he saw fit.

Perhaps it is time for a break. Ten hours is a long time by anyone's standards...

After running every diagnostic and other revealing spell that she could think of on him, Hermione probably had a more comprehensive knowledge of Severus Snape's physical and magical condition than even he did.

I wonder if I can talk him into letting me re-break and mend that crooked left index finger?

It was of vital importance that she cast this last spell on him. Throughout the day, in between more involving or obvious spells, Hermione had been surreptitiously checking up on Severus' pain levels. The particular spell she was using worked on a sort of echo system. Since she hadn't yet been literally blown away by the backlash, Hermione considered it both safe and appropriate to continue with the testing.

Knowing his temper, Hermione was also determined to satiate her fascination with this man as well as she could while he was being so unusually cooperative. Now that she was well again, she quite enjoyed the challenge his contrariness presented. That said, the opportunity to interact with Severus Snape in a mood to humour her was something that Galleons couldn't buy.

The new wand, his wand, had also proven itself to be perfect. Although she relished no longer having to fight a one-woman war with her wand every time she wanted to perform complex magic, Hermione felt a strange mixture of elation and suspicion when she considered the wand in her hand.

She knew enough of the Wizarding world and wand lore to know that a wand was a very personal item, even if it no longer worked very well for its master. Despite the very frightening realisation that the only thing between success and explosion for several years had been her will power, Hermione had nevertheless only given her old wand to Severus because her sense of honour demanded it and because she trusted him absolutely not to defile it in any way.

Well, perhaps 'defile' was too strong a word. It was difficult to describe, but Hermione felt responsible for the actions of that wand out in the world, even if it was no longer 'hers'. That Severus might possibly think the same thing about his own wand humbled her.

She would endeavour to be worthy of compliment.

Casting her spell, Hermione felt like she had been punched in the gut as the echo sent her crashing down onto the floor.

Even as she struggled to take deep breaths to ease the pain, Hermione gave Severus her most withering glare.

'Why didn't you just tell me that it got bad so quickly?'

Unfortunately for Severus, Hermione had taken his advice on using her wand very much to heart. Not even wanting to take a proper break for lunch or dinner, she had ignored his protests, using her rediscovered Charms skills to prepare and cook very simple meals.

Now, as she lay sprawled on the floor, no doubt as a result of the Pain-Indicator Charm she had just placed on him, Severus found himself at the end of his tether. He was tired of being told what to do when. The pain wasn't even as bad as it had been the day before.

The sex did help, but I'll be fine on my own now!

Getting out of the uncomfortable wooden chair he had been confined in for much of the day, he loomed over her, glaring back for all he was worth. 'And what would telling you have achieved? More prodding and poking?'

In response, she quickly scrambled to her feet, arms akimbo as she prepared to defend herself.

But it was going so well!

'In case you'd forgotten, Mr Snape, I am your Healer and Ministry-appointed carer! All this prodding and poking was absolutely necessary, and, if you weren't arguing with me right now, we could be much closer to alleviating your pain.'

He sneered. 'We will do no such thing. As your patient, I reserve the right to refuse your treatment, Healer.'

Only Severus Snape could make her hard-earned title sound like the grossest insult. 'Oh, stop being so absolutely childish, Severus. Now get into the bedroom and get out of your pants before I force you to.'

She dares to threaten me at the point of my old wand?

'I am not in the mood for jokes,' he stated flatly.

'What makes you think that I'm joking? We've done it once already,' she snapped.

'You seem very eager to "do it" with me again, Miss Granger. So selfless. Tell me, did you take bets at the hospital? I'd certainly never have picked you as the sort of woman to harbour a schoolgirl fantasy about shagging one of your professors.'

It was one step too far. He knew that as soon as the blistering accusation left his mouth that it had no foundation, but in his rage, he savoured the words, letting them fly with more than his customary vitriol. He was still angry and proud enough to know that he wouldn't take them back.

All colour drained from her face immediately, and she swayed a little on the spot as if reeling from a physical blow.

Hit the mark, did I?

Even through the increase of anger he felt upon his suspicion being confirmed, Severus was unwillingly impressed when Hermione gathered the courage and composure to say coldly, 'I've been made responsible for your health.' With a wave of her wand, a bottle of Firewhisky soared out from underneath the kitchen sink. 'I am going into the bedroom. Drink yourself stupid if you want to, but if you decide that you don't hate yourself enough to suffer a night in blinding pain, I will do my best to relieve you.'

With that, she stalked out of the room and slammed the bedroom door, head held high.

The moment the door slammed shut behind her, Hermione used the last of her strength to construct silencing wards before she collapsed into a puddle in the middle of her bed.

Allowing tears to flow unchecked down her cheeks as she replayed his cruel words over and over in her mind again, she still had the capacity through the pain to consider the whys of their present predicament.

Just why did she care so much?

He was out of order.

But would you have treated any other patient the same way?

The answer in Hermione's mind was crystal clear and frighteningly wrong.

No.

Severus Snape was the only man she knew who could be surly, kind, maddening and brilliant, all at the same time. He had nice skin and a perfect penis. Suddenly, the whys no longer mattered.

I care for him. I care for Severus bloody Snape. The man, not the patient, but I'm still his Healer, and I know that he wouldn't give two withered Shrivelfigs for me. Oh, but remember? We've slept together, because the Ministry is completely irresponsible...

Even she could see the irony in all of this.

It would have been funnier if it didn't hurt so much.

Hermione hadn't been involved in a real, emotional blowup since she'd dated Ron in the immediate aftermath of the war. Totally incompatible, their spats had been frequent and just as loud, but Ron had never possessed anything even close to Severus' eloquence.

Whoever said words couldn't hurt was a charlatan who deserved to be hung by the balls and quartered.

Curling up tighter, Hermione tried, and failed, to keep her tears in check.

It really shouldn't surprise her that he'd thrown her attempts to help back in her face. Despite the attractive good things that drew her to him, Severus Snape was also a potty-mouthed, bad-mannered, sometimes greasy, annoying, spiteful bastard.

It really is as simple as that.

Such thoughts were poor comfort. With every fibre of her being, Hermione prayed that he would not walk through the door and take her up on her brazen offer.

Not tonight.

She had neither the courage, nor the heart to go through with it.

Eyeing the bottle, Severus wanted nothing better than to hurl it against the nearest wall. Unfortunately, he was still calm enough to care that the walls here would probably crumple rather feebly under any sort of assault.

Drinking didn't even cross his mind as a possibility.

Control... control is the key.

Biting the inside of his mouth in an attempt to distract himself from his other pain, Severus focused in on his feelings of rage and inadequacy.

She thinks that she knows everything, that she can fix everything...

The longer he dwelt on it, the more convinced Severus became that he had been weak in accepting her help in the first place. He should never have had sexual intercourse with Hermione Granger. It was even worse that he had let it occur on her terms. She was a woman, and women always used sex to lay claims on men. He should have known that it would never be the professional medical treatment that she claimed it would be.

It's sex, for Merlin's sake!

However, even as the rational part of his mind acknowledged his fault in this whole mess, the larger part of Severus' fury was still directed at Hermione.

I am not a 'problem', and even if I were, I wouldn't be her problem!

He felt used, and the worst part of the whole thing was that he couldn't understand why.

From what he knew, Hermione Granger was a darling of Wizarding society. One of the heroes of the war, she had friends, family and the job that she'd always wanted. She was just so bloody promising, with her whole life ahead of her. From knowing her as a child, Severus would never have picked Hermione to become the sort of sadistic, cruel woman who manipulated a man for her own ends. She had always seemed so sickeningly wholesome.

For some reason, that realisation only served to make him angrier.

Severus stewed, contemplating everything from revenge to pretending that it never happened before eventually settling on a very calculated withdrawal from this situation as a whole. She couldn't have any power over him if he consciously made himself unavailable to her. From this moment on, they would share no interaction outside that absolutely necessarily as flatmates. Once he was free of this place, Severus wouldn't look back.

The first resolution he made was that he needed to find a way to take care of his little problem by himself. Knowing that it wouldn't be nearly as effective as sex, or even as good as if her hand was doing the work, Severus nevertheless decided to take a shower and try to relieve himself. If he could get a decent night's sleep, he would be in far better shape to face the days ahead.

Since he couldn't Apparate inside the flat, Severus tiptoed through Hermione's bedroom, noticing with disgust that she was sleeping soundly, not even stirring at his entrance.

I don't suppose my words meant anything to her. What a waste of breath.

When he came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, erection thankfully gone for the moment, Severus couldn't resist taking a closer look at Hermione in what he told himself was a sensible attempt to steel himself against any remaining desires to become the persuadable fool he had been earlier in the day.

A closer view, illuminated by moonlight, told a far different tale from the one that he had so carefully constructed in his mind since she had stormed out of the room.

Curled into a tight ball as if shielding herself from all outside harm, Severus could feel a magical disturbance in the air surrounding the young woman when he got within a metre of the bed. While it was probably nothing serious, Severus couldn't help but be wary of anything that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise in alarm.

Merlin, she looks a mess...

Cheeks still blotchy even in sleep, it did not take particularly keen eyesight to deduce that Hermione had gone to bed in tears and had likely succumbed to slumber only out of sheer exhaustion. It did not even look like a deep or restful sleep, given that every few seconds or so she would shift. One leg brought closer, head burrowing even further into the pillow as if it could make the bad dreams go away.

Gingerly stepping right up to the edge of the bed, Severus' mind fought every inch of the way as his hand automatically reached out towards her, and he gently laid it on her shoulder. Immediately, the air ceased to be so suffocating as the magical disturbance he had sensed disappeared. Just as the self-preserving part of Severus' mind was urging him to get out and barricade himself in the living room, the reason for the cessation of the uncontrolled magic became clear.

Hermione's eyes were open, and she was staring straight at him.

Time stood still as they each carefully assessed the other, neither one moving a muscle as they fought this silent battle of the wills.

Finally, Hermione sighed and grimaced before slowly rolling over so that her back was to Severus. A clear message was conveyed in every line of her stiffly held body: go away. Severus felt stung.

I reach out in comfort, and she doesn't even have the grace to accept it!

Oh.

It occurred to Severus that she may just possibly have thought that he wanted relief. Recalling the unnecessary harshness of his accusations, and their lack of justification, Severus blanched, then grew irritated again at her passivity.

So why doesn't she just tell me to bugger off?

She couldn't possibly still be willing. No one was that altruistic.

Why has she been trying so hard?

Only this infuriatingly Gryffindor girl could make him feel emasculated and like the worst kind of insensitive bastard at the same time. And yet, perversely, he didn't want her to think that he was an awful person. Not when she was one of the only people to ever look hard enough to see through the mask in the first place. With that thought, it depressed him to realise that all the anger made some kind of awful sense.

Damn her. This wouldn't be so bloody difficult if I didn't want her just a little.

No.

He knew that he had no right to want her and no hope even if he had. She could do so much better. However, being tired and a little overwhelmed by the mental and physical demands of his illness, Severus didn't think, but instead just guiltily crawled into bed next to her without any thought for how his action might be construed.

As he curled up behind Hermione and pulled her close, she stiffened even further for a moment. However, since she made no move to shrug him off or hex him, Severus knew that he had finally got something right. When he made no move to grope her, but just simply held her loosely as he settled himself for sleep, she too relaxed, resting against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Forgiven.