Some Day My Prince Will Come

Hermione was relaxing on the sofa when Ron appeared in her Floo.

"Can I come through?" he asked.

"Of course," she said.

Ron walked across her flat and sat down next to her. "I came by yesterday to check on you, and you were fast asleep. How're you feeling?"

"Embarrassed," she said.

"Don't. I know it was the alcohol talking. I don't think I've ever seen you have more than one drink."

"And don't expect to see a repeat any time soon."

"Learned your lesson, did ya?" he asked, poking her playfully in the ribs. "Hey, do you want to go to lunch with me?"

"I've already put something in the oven."

"Oh," he said, and his face fell.

"Yes, there is enough for two. You can stay and join me if you'd like."

"I suppose I should. We can't have you getting lonely, after all."

"Me, lonely? For all you know my secret boyfriend is on his way over now."

"Oh, you have a secret boyfriend, do you?"

She frowned. "No, but the search is on."

"Hey, speaking of, did you read my column today?"

"You wrote your column about your secret boyfriend?" she teased. "No, I'm sorry. It's on my agenda, but I haven't knocked much off my to-do list today."

The timer on the oven sounded, and they headed for the kitchen to eat. Once the dishes were cleared, they moved back to the living room, and Hermione grabbed her copy of the newspaper off the counter before joining Ron on the sofa.

He watched her expression as she read his column. An amused smile was pasted on her face until the very end where she went pale.

"Are you okay? You look dreadful." He put his hand to her forehead as his mum had always done to him when he was sick. She continued to stare at the page. "Hermione!" he said.

She blinked a few times and then turned toward him. "I'm ... I just have a stomachache. I think I ate too much food at lunch."

"Or, maybe it's safer if we don't let you cook, next time," he said, laughing.

She stood, walked into her bedroom, and shut the door.

"I was only kidding," he hollered. She didn't respond, so he knocked on her door, then opened it a crack. She sat on the bed with her pillow clutched to her chest. "I'll leave you alone now, but I'll be at work if you need me, okay?"

She nodded, and he closed the door and left.

*~*~*

"Healer Robinson, thank you so much for coming by. And at such short notice."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Prince."

"Victoria, please," she said, taking his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair.

"All right, then. And you must call me Logan. Is everything okay with Severus? I don't typically make house calls, but you sounded rather frazzled."

"Oh, yes, Severus is doing just fine."

"So, this was just a ploy to get me to your house?" He smiled at her, and she broke into tears.

"Hey, I was only joking. I thought you said things were fine."

"Yes, I am just overwhelmed. How embarrassing to be acting like a teenager with my emotions all over the place." Victoria grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. "Something amazing has happened, though, and I need your help."

"Of course. Whatever I can do."

"Follow me," she said and started up the stairs. "You are never going to believe this."

They stood outside the patient's room while she debriefed the healer. He listened while she explained Azalea's wondrous invention to him, and she swore him to secrecy until the product was ready to be distributed, just in case the girl hadn't had the sense to get a patent. He didn't interrupt during the entire story, appearing as stunned as she'd predicted he'd be. At the end of the tale, though, he didn't miss a beat.

"How did you figure out that the quill's magical properties don't work in close range?"

"That is a story unto itself. I contacted the lady who came up with this contraption, but then I couldn't just sit and do nothing while I awaited her reply. I owed it to Severus to keep trying to work out this thing. I noticed that every time I was in my sitting room, the writing would pour onto the page, but when I moved back to his room it would stop. Naturally, I assumed that somehow it got better reception in the living room, so I levitated him downstairs and set him on the couch."

"And then nothing happened." Logan's grin couldn't be suppressed.

"Of course," she said, laughing. "It was actually Severus who figured it out. I was so intent on learning how to use the thing so we could have a proper conversation that I didn't pay any attention to what he was saying on the page. This is where you come in."

"I'm sincerely waiting with bated breath. I don't have a clue what you are going to tell me."

"Your team treated him for the effects of the venom from the snake bite, and all of us assumed that his state of being was due to the time lapse between the attack and his treatment."

Logan nodded in agreement.

"According to Severus, after he was bitten by the snake, he was discovered by a few Death Eaters who were angry that he'd changed sides. They stopped the bleeding, but then they cursed him with Sileo Anima and left him there to rot."

"Sileo Anima?"

"I take it you aren't familiar? I wasn't either."

"I've seen some nasty stuff, but I can't say I've ever encountered that one."

"Well, there's not much to explain, as you've seen its effects. His mind has been working just fine most of this time, but his body has been paralyzed. He gave me the reversal spell, but he said there will be nasty side effects for a day or two."

"That shouldn't be a problem. We can monitor him around the clock, give pain medication, sedatives ... whatever is necessary to keep him comfortable while this passes."

"Is it too forward of me to ask you to stay the night?" She tried to keep a straight face, but broke down laughing that the look on his face. "I'm sorry, but it's so easy to make you blush.

"He doesn't really want any publicity about this. I know you have private rooms, and you do your best to keep the media away, but it will get out. I thought maybe you and I could take care of him here."

"Let me read what he wrote to you regarding the symptoms, and I will determine if we can handle it," Logan said.

"Thank you. I'll owe you one."

"I'll remember that," he said.

A touch on his arm halted his entrance into the bedroom. "Just a warning. I haven't yet determined whether his year of solitude has given him time for some introspection or whether being fussed over by everyone has built up a year's worth of temper," she said.

"I am medical only. You get to deal with that other stuff," he said. "You owe me, remember?"

*~*~*

"Hermione?" Ginny called out as she entered her friend's flat. "Hello? Are you home?" She set the pot of soup she'd brought on the counter and went to search the bedroom. She found Hermione sitting on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. "I went by your work and they said you'd stayed home sick. Is everything okay? I brought you some dinner."

Hermione didn't respond, but held out the newspaper.

Ginny's eyes went wide when she finished the article. "Oh, God, Hermione, this is for you?"

She nodded.

"So, did you?" Ginny asked.

"Did I what?"

"Don't be thick. Did you send your owl?"

"No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"Let me get this straight. You have been pining away for this prince who may or may not be real, and when he finally confirms his existence, you are going to do nothing."

"Well, what would you have me do? I don't even know this guy. He could be a troll."

"Since when are you so vain?"

"Okay, well, he could be dangerous."

"I think he sounds charming," Ginny said, grinning. "Plus, it isn't like he asked you to donate a kidney. Send your bird, and if I'm wrong, I promise I won't force you to respond."

Hermione contemplated her friend's argument, then stood up and sighed. "All right, but if this turns out bad, you're going to owe me big time." She narrowed her eyes at Ginny, then wandered off to get her owl.

"Hey, Archimedes. I need you to go and find the prince. He'll have a message for you." She stroked the feathers on his chest. "But, if he's creepy, bite him and run."

*~*~*

"Small sips," she said, supporting his head with one hand and holding the straw to his lips with the other. Victoria glared at her patient during his coughing spell brought about by ignoring her advice. "I know you hate being at the mercy of others, but if you listen to Logan's instructions, you will get stronger with time."

"Logan?" he whispered.

She blushed. "Healer Robinson, that is."

"Logan?" he repeated.

It seemed to Victoria a positive sign that he already had the ability to raise his eyebrow at her. "I'm old, Severus, not dead."

He closed his eyes, let his head roll off to the side, and fell asleep.

*~*~*

Archimedes hooted softly and perched on the end of Severus' bed.

"Give me a minute, you lousy bird."

The owl clicked his beak and then turned to face the other direction.

"I'll have it ready in a moment. Have some patience." He did a quick read-over to make sure he hadn't said too much or too little.

Princess Azalea,

The man whom you believe to be a prince

*~*~*

"Gram, I need you to send a letter for me," Severus said.

"Oh? To whom?" she asked innocently.

"Coy does not suit you."

"Severus, darling, everything suits me." She winked at him and motioned for the owl to come to her. "Let's go, Bart. We've got a relationship to spark."

"Now you are being ridiculous. There will be no sparking of anything. I merely need a distraction while I recuperate, and there is little I can do from this bed. I still can't feel anything from the waist down, and I only have the strength to move a fraction of the parts I can feel. If I can talk her through experimenting on some theories I have, then why should I sit quietly? After all, I owe her my life. The least I can do is help her with her project."

Victoria stood in the doorway, smiling at her grandson.

"Stop that at once!"

"What's that?"

"Pretending you know something when you are clearly out of your mind." He fell into a coughing fit, and she rushed to his side to help him sit up and take a drink. She brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Are you finished with your rant?"

"It was not a rant," he insisted. "And yes, I am finished. I just have one more question."

"What's that?"

"What makes you think his name is Bart?"

"Oh, Bart is just a nickname. His real name is Bartholomew, but he is such a laid back, carefree bird, that seemed too stuffy and formal."

Severus rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Of course. How foolish of me."

*~*~*

Hermione was at work when her owl found her, so she stashed the letter in her bag for later. The rest of her day was wasted, however, as she could think of nothing else but what lay inside the envelope currently burning a hole in her bag.

*~*~*

Mr. Prince,

P.S. How do you propose we work on this? Should we meet? I'm afraid that while I just made you a business offer, I am still a bit shy about giving up any personal information. Can you see any way of communicating through mail?

*~*~*

Azalea,

Prince?

Hermione scrambled around her flat, digging through drawers and cabinets to find a matching quill and ear piece. She finally uncovered one and boxed it up to send with Archimedes the following morning.

*~*~*

Hermione arrived home from work at the same time her owl descended towards her front door. A small package was attached, and she tore it off so quickly that she had to pause her enthusiasm to make sure she hadn't removed his leg along with it. Once inside, all thoughts of dinner and cleaning up her flat were forgotten in favor of hearing from her prince. Inside the box was a set of her Intelli-quills along with a letter advising her to have the product ready to use at precisely 8:00 p.m. Glancing at her watch, she groaned over the hour she'd have to pass before ... Well, she wasn't actually sure what to expect when the time came. The letter said she was to use her quill to write a test message. Maybe there was time to clean a bit. Her stomach certainly had no room for anything but butterflies, so dinner was off the books.

At 7:55 p.m., she sat in her favorite chair with a steaming mug of hot cocoa and prepared herself for whatever was to come. Would he Floo call? Oh, God, I should have cleaned my flat. Would a letter arrive? Surely he won't show up at my door. She smoothed her hair down with her sweaty palms and pinched her cheeks for some color, just in case.

Though she hadn't heard from him, when the time came, she thought about her message and watched the quill, hoping it would start its dance across the page. She was disappointed, but not altogether surprised, when nothing happened. Then, after a moment, the quill stood on end and printed the message. Hello out there. Can anyone hear me? Her hand flew to her mouth. It was actually working. She took a few deep breaths, remembering that this had happened one time before and it would be unwise to get her hopes up. She tried again, and just like last time, after a pause her words appeared on the page. "Defective, my arse," she said to herself. "So, the prince is impressed with me. He hasn't seen anything yet." She smiled to herself, imagining several other ways to impress him. The quill popped up and started writing.

Such language from a lady.

"What? I didn't think that."

No, you didn't. But you did think some other choice things. In fact, at one point, you almost had me blushing."

Hermione ripped off her ear piece and flung it across the room.

"What the hell is going on?" She touched the quill and then pulled her hand away quickly as if prolonged contact would burn her. Nothing happened. She tiptoed across the room and bent to pick up the item she'd thrown. When she returned, there was an additional note.

You are awfully quiet. Cat got your tongue?

She stared at the paper, not wanting to look away lest she miss something.

You are angry. Such a typical woman. Check your serial numbers, then put the ear piece back on and cease your pouting.

"I'm not pouting," she grumbled. She compared her quill and ear piece and noted that they contained different numbers, then slipped it back over her ear.

You sent me a mismatched set.

Very well. Your assignment for the night is to make a list of the things that you think could be improved upon, and we will discuss them tomorrow. Until then, I bid you goodnight.

Hermione removed her ear piece and set it on the table with the quill. Did he just give me homework? She was not altogether pleased with his attitude, either. Still, the mysterious nature of his identity, along with the promise of stimulating conversation, had her a little giddy. Buoyed by the fact that she'd have another date tomorrow – it's a work date, she kept reminding herself – she felt she could almost face a theme park full of children in the morning.

A/N-This chapter title is from the song "Some Day my Prince will Come" from Disney's Snow White.

The spell used roughly translates to silent soul. Note the word roughly. Sure, I could have used English or Spanish, or something with which I am more well versed, but it just loses some pizazz, and where's the fun in that?

My alpha plus my beta equals an awesome team for me. Thanks, Palathene and Keppiehed.