NETTIE

Chapter Sixteen: NETTIE

I can never remember to call Professor Snape, Severus. He has been Professor Snape in my mind for so long now that I find it nearly impossible to see him as anything else. Although, I have to admit, that with each passing day here at Hogwarts he has become less and less like the Professor Snape I had first encountered almost two years ago at St. Mungo's.

It's not just his demeanor that has changed – because, honestly, I'm pretty sure that other than Miss Granger, I am the only one privy to his softer side. I do see him every day, after all. His hard edges seem to disappear the moment he enters Miss Granger's and my rooms; his shoulders loosen, and the tight lines around his face relax. Even his eyes, so obsidian and black, seem to take on a warmer cast – like dark shadows in a candle lit room. I'm sure that sounds silly, but it's true.

When he enters our suite the first thing he normally does is loosen the top few buttons of his frock coat, as if that small gesture is the way he gives the rest of his body permission to unwind.

Even though we have become, dare I say, friends, he still doesn't talk to me that much. We'll exchange the normal pleasantries, he'll inquire as to my day and how Miss Granger has been, and then he'll spend the rest of the evening with her. It's only when he is with Miss Granger that I truly see the Severus in him; that the persona of Professor Snape he adheres to so rigidly dissipates completely.

I have taken to calling him Professor Severus, which seems to amuse him.

The first time I greeted him as such, he cocked an eyebrow at me and, it seemed, bit back a slight grin that was tugging at his mouth.

'You can drop the Professor, Nettie.'

I sighed when he said this, before shaking my head at him emphatically. 'I can't, sir – Professor Severus, sir. You only seem like a Severus when you're with Miss Granger. At the same time, I find it impossible to see you as Professor Snape anymore, because I believe we are friends now and you no longer scare me. Professor Severus is honestly the best I can do.'

Lately, though, his physical presence seems to be diminishing. I can't explain it really – I mean, the man has lost weight of course. I know for a fact he often forgets to eat; and from what he's let slip, I believe he is sharing meals with Hermione when he visits her. The problem is that he seems to forget that the food he shares with her is imaginary.

Since I first met him, he's always been spare. Even the black frock coats, vests and shirts he prefers to wear do not hide the sharp angles of his frame. And since he's practically stopped eating, those angles have become more noticeable. Where once his face was thin and aristocratic, it now seems gaunt. His cheekbones are like blades over the hollows of his jaw, and his eyes are seeming deeper within the pronounced sockets of his face.

Not only has he lost weight he can ill-afford to lose, but his once impeccable grooming is no longer as evident. It seems he has always had rather greasy hair, but lately it has become worse. The black strands are lank and dull, and hang lifeless against his neck. Some days it seems as if he hasn't even brushed it. And his clothes – once the deepest of blacks, without even the slightest hint of lint on them, and crisp as a fresh sheet of parchment – are more often then not wrinkled and stained. The white cotton ruff of his linen shirt is starchless and gray. Over the last few days I've questioned if he's even changed his clothes at all. When he stopped by for an early morning visit to Hermione and I to remind us of his visit to Azkaban, the man hadn't even bothered to shave. The starkness of his dark whiskers against his lean and pallid cheeks presented quite a contrast. After he left, I turned to Miss Granger.

'You must remind Professor Severus to eat, dear. He's loosing too much weight, and it doesn't look good on him. It is not my place, I know, but I am worried about him, Miss Granger. The Severus I met last year would never step outside in clothes as rumpled and stained as he was wearing today.'

I really began to notice the changes in him the day after he first kissed Miss Granger, and it had me worried. I could not, for the life of me, figure out why his physical condition seemed to be deteriorating so rapidly. If I was not able to converse with the man and observe his actions as often as I did, I might have even questioned whether or not he was slipping into some sort of dementia.

Miss Granger, of course, never looked better. Being here at Hogwarts really agreed with her – or, more likely, it was being here with Professor Severus that made her hair and skin glow. As quickly as the Professor seemed to be deteriorating, with her it was just the opposite – for a young witch who had been so close to death less than two full weeks ago, she really looked quite remarkable!

'So, Miss Granger – what shall we do today?' I asked her, as I sat down in the chair beside her bed with my tea. 'I have a feeling we won't be seeing Professor Severus again until much later this evening. Perhaps, a nice bath in the big tub and a massage? I have a new charm I thought we could try on your hair – I've been told it will make curls into ringlets! I bet your hair would look even lovelier than it does now.'

I had just settled Miss Granger into her chair and was preparing to read to her when I heard a sharp knock on the door. Our day had gotten off to a slow start, but I was surprised to see that it was Minerva McGonagall who decided to stop by unexpectedly not long after the Professor had left.

'May I come in?' she requested, when I opened the door at her knock.

I was genuinely surprised to see the older witch. Although she was visiting Miss Granger with more regularity now that she was back at Hogwarts, she had just been here not two evenings ago, when Professor Severus had dragged that odd-looking Trelawney into the rooms. I smiled at her politely, 'Professor McGonagall, Hermione is still in her room. Would you like a cup of tea?'

The older woman smiled, 'Please, Madam Pomfrey. I find it very chilly down here.'

'You get used to it, dear,' I replied. 'Go on in, I'm sure she'll be happy to see you.'

She nodded at this, before asking, 'Would you have a tea with me while I visit with Hermione?'

Her request caught me off guard. I was sure she was going to question me about the Professor, and I had no interest in easing her mind in any way, or providing any more fodder for the gossip mills. I was about to decline, when she smiled at me suddenly. 'I heard about your dressing down of Poppy. She does admit – grudgingly – that she probably deserved it.'

I bit back a grin at that, 'I won't talk with you about Professor Snape, you realize.'

Her smile grew wider at this, 'I'd heard you were championing him. It's just tea, Madam Pomfrey.'

The ensuing visit was actually quite nice. Within the first 30 minutes, Minerva and I were laughing like old friends. I was especially pleased that she included Miss Granger in the conversation.

'He was so upset your first year here, Hermione,' she chuckled, patting the younger girl's hand. 'He couldn't believe you had figured out his riddle so quickly, and it was quite fun to tease him in the staff room about it. He was sure you had cheated, somehow. It took him ages to admit that you were, in fact, as intelligent as everyone kept saying you were!'

'I can see how that might have bothered him,' I agreed.

'He is rather prickly, Madam Pomfrey, as I'm sure you noticed.'

'I've noticed, all right. And please, call me Nettie.'

The older woman looked pleased at this, 'And you must call me Minerva, then. I have to ask, Nettie – what is your name short for?'

I laughed, 'My name has a curious tale behind it. You see, my father was bound and determined to have a son. My mother, bless her, was equally determined that I would be the last baby. You would understand this if you had ever been around my sisters when they were little – hellions, the lot of them! When I turned out to be another girl, my father was more than a little disappointed. When it came time for him to name me, instead of going with Daisy – which is what my mother wanted – he chose Nettle, because I had stung his heart.'

Poor Minerva didn't know what to say to that, which made me laugh even harder. 'Oh, don't feel badly for me, Minerva. He got over his disappointment – he really was a wonderful man. And Nettle quite suits me – can you honestly picture me as a Daisy? Gods forbid!'

All in all, it was a lovely visit. Minerva didn't leave until just after lunch, her smile warm as she wished a good day to Hermione before turning to me. 'You are doing a wonderful job here, Nettie. I'm glad we had this opportunity to talk – I'm sorry it took so long in coming.'

'Better late than never,' I replied as I walked her to the door.

'True.' She paused just inside the hallway then, looking at me, 'What you said to Poppy – about the way we treat Severus...you were right, you know. We have been horrible to him. I wonder why we didn't see it?'

'It's hard to see what's become habit, Minerva,' I replied gently, watching her nod to herself as she slowly left the dungeons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was just getting Hermione settled comfortably in her big chair when the door sounded again. It was much later in the afternoon – I had read to her for a while after Minerva's departure, before finally giving her the bath I had promised earlier in the morning.

I had a large fire blazing in the fireplace, as her hair was still wet. She had on a beautiful thick terry robe Professor Severus had bought for her when she first arrived, and I was looking forward to brushing and charming her hair as it slowly dried by the fire.

'Who can that be now?' I muttered to myself. 'Professor Severus would have just walked in, so it's not him.'

It was Harry Potter.

I have to admit I wasn't thrilled to see him. While I didn't dislike the boy, I wasn't a fan either – it was hard for me to believe that this young hothead was the savior of the Wizarding world.

'Mr. Potter – what a pleasant surprise,' I said, even though my heart wasn't in it. 'Hermione's just had a bath – she's sitting in front of the fireplace.'

Potter shifted uncomfortably, before looking at me and declaring, 'I've actually come to visit with you, Madam Pomfrey.'

Oh, bother.

Sighing, I stepped back, 'I need to brush Miss Granger's hair. Come on through – you can tell me why you're here as I do that.' I didn't offer him a cup of tea.

'Hullo, Hermione,' he said quietly as he slipped into the room behind me. I rolled my eyes at her and grabbed the hair brush before turning back to face him.

'What can I help you with, Mr. Potter?'

The younger man looked slightly uncomfortable, 'I'm just here to see what's going on with Snape and Hermione. I'd heard ... about this aura thing....' he grimaced as he said this. 'And it's worried me somewhat.'

I sighed. 'What, exactly, is bothering you about it?' I tried to, but couldn't quite hide, the impatience in my voice.

'I'm just wondering...you're here with them all the time, right? You never leave Snape alone with Hermione, do you?'

He flinched at the look I shot him. 'Mr. Potter – must you come by every few days to ask me the same questions? I'm getting rather tired of it.'

'I can't help it if I don't trust him,' he retorted sullenly. 'You wouldn't either, if you knew him like I do.'

'I know him better than you do, Mr. Potter,' I retorted angrily. 'Honestly! What makes you think you know him at all? Just because he was your professor for a few years?'

'He's always been a miserable git! He's never liked anyone - he's never liked me!'

'He liked you well enough to save your life!' I snapped back. 'Or have you forgotten that?'

Potter flushed, 'I haven't forgotten. But Hermione... she's like this because of him.'

'You hate the Professor because of a choice Miss Granger made?' My voice was incredulous. 'He didn't ask for any of this you know. None of it. Yet it seems to me, for a man who doesn't like anyone, he's pulled the wool over a lot of people's eyes. Professor Dumbledore seems to like him, and he strikes me as an intelligent man. Minerva likes him; I like him. I'm betting that your Hermione here loves him.'

'Don't say that!' he shouted suddenly. 'She doesn't love him.'

'She does, Potter.' I had stopped brushing Miss Granger's hair as we spoke, and found myself now looking intently at the boy. 'Look at her – she looks like a woman in love.'

'She looks like a woman in a coma,' Harry retorted bitterly.

'That too,' I agreed. 'She is in a coma of sorts, but that doesn't mean she's not there. That doesn't mean she's not allowed to have feelings, or dreams, or anything else you seem to think being in a coma implies.' My voice was gentle now. I stepped towards him and crouched down, tentatively reaching out and touching his hands which were clasped tightly on his knees.

'Remember that day you came to visit her, and I told you she was dying? Remember how badly she looked? Her hair was brittle, her skin – gray and lax... you yourself said she looked like a cadaver. Remember?'

The young man nodded miserably.

'It was Snape that gave her back her health. I believe she looked like that because she thought he had left her; she was dying without him.'

'How do you know it wasn't a trick?' Harry offered hesitantly, 'Maybe Snape charmed her to look like that, so we would think she would die without him. Maybe it was a ruse to get her back to Hogwarts and under his thumb.'

I shook my head gently. 'The only reason he came back was because of you, Mr. Potter. You were the one that went to him when you realized she was dying. For that matter, you went to him when I told you we had to keep her hair short – remember? Why would you do that – tell him these things – if you hate him as much as you claim? What did you expect him to do about it?'

Potter looked confused, 'I don't know. I don't know! All I know is that – I miss her. If Snape... if he hadn't been helping me... she wouldn't be here at all. She would never have had to throw herself in front of Malfoy's curse.'

'So you blame Professor Snape because you feel guilty,' I pointed out, gently. 'That's not very fair of you.'

'I can't help the way I feel!' His green eyes were swimming with tears. For the first time in a long while, I felt sorry for the boy.

'Of course you can't, Mr. Potter. None of us can – but think about this for a moment: what if he does manage to free her? What are you going to do when she tells you herself she loves him? Are you going to hold onto your anger towards Severus; make Miss Granger choose between you? Because I have to tell you – from where I'm sitting, she would choose him. You don't even believe she's really there, inside her mind. It's been Professor Snape who has visited her every day, who's struggling to find a cure for her – despite the obstacles you seem to be trying to put in his way.'

Potter looked like he was going to interrupt, but I didn't let him. 'Don't you think Miss Granger might ask you why you weren't more willing to listen to Professor Snape? To help him? I'd always heard you were a powerful young wizard... yet you haven't lifted a finger to contribute in any way to breaking this curse.'

The younger man looked down at his hands, 'He won't take my help.'

'You mean, he won't ask you for it,' I corrected. 'He does have his pride, you know, just as you do. I think if you offered it, he might surprise you. Promise me you'll think about what I've said.'

He didn't reply, instead choosing to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. I was about to offer him tea when I heard Professor Dumbledore's voice coming from the fireplace, 'Nettie dear, are you there? Can I come through?'

Rising from my crouched position, I turned towards the fireplace, 'Of course, Professor Dumbledore – please come in!'

I looked at Hermione, smiling, 'I think we should ask Professor Severus about getting a sign that reads Platform 9 3/4 to hang on the wall over there, dear. It's been excessively busy today.'

Dumbledore, who was brushing pieces of ash from his beard, smiled at me when I said this. 'Who else has been by?'

'Minerva, for one, and Mr. Potter – he's still here, as a matter of fact.'

The older man peered at the young lad over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'Hullo Albus,' Potter greeted quietly.

'Harry, my dear boy. I suspected you would have left by now.'

Potter shrugged, 'Not quite yet. Where's Snape?'

'I imagine he's in his quarters, straightening up. He was waiting for a book from Durmstrang and wanted to see if it had arrived before he came to see Hermione. Which leads me to you, Nettie,' he said, turning to me. 'Severus said he was coming to have dinner with Miss Granger this evening, and I wanted to ask you...' He paused, the twinkle in his eyes fading as he leaned closer to me and lowered his voice.

'I'm worried about him, Nettie. He doesn't look good, and I just wanted to make sure he was eating. I've only seen him in the Great Hall once in the last two days – the night he dragged Sybil down here – and he didn't eat more than half a bowl of soup.'

Potter was listening in unabashedly. I suppressed the urge to scowl at him before replying, 'I do make sandwiches and the like for him, sir, but more often then not they are left uneaten. He does drink lots of tea though. I'm... I've been worried about him myself.'

'He's lost a bit of weight,' Potter inserted, 'big deal. Everyone does.'

'Not like this, Harry,' Dumbledore's voice held a bit of a bite to it. 'It's not just the weight – didn't you notice how – rumpled – he looked when you saw him earlier? He hasn't bothered to shave yet today, and I don't think he's washed his hair in a week.'

Before Potter could respond at that, I snapped at him, 'If you say 'How can you tell?' I shall smack you, Mr. Potter.'

The boy shut his mouth.

I bit my lip as I turned back to the Headmaster, 'What do you want me to do, Albus? He's a grown man, I can't force him to eat and I don't think he'd appreciate it if I tried.'

'No, of course not, of course not,' Dumbledore responded, 'I'm just concerned – he hasn't looked this bad since the final battle, and he didn't have any skin then.'

We stood silently for a moment, thinking. Even Potter looked like he was considering something. I must admit, we all jumped a little when the very man we had been discussing swept into the room without announcing himself.

'Nettie. Albus... Potter...' he greeted civilly, although he growled Potter's name slightly. He was in shirtsleeves and black britches, his vest and frock coat obviously forgotten when he had left his rooms. Under his arm he carried a large, leather bound book.

'I must say, I'm surprised to see so many people here. I was only expecting Nettie and Hermione.' He stepped towards her as he said her name, and I could see his free hand reaching out as if to touch her, before falling back to his side. Instead, he placed the book on the table next to her chair and turned to look at the three of us.

'Is there a problem?'

'None, Professor Severus, sir,' I replied. 'Mr. Potter just came by for a visit and Albus came to tell me you'd be arriving soon.'

'I see your book arrived, Severus,' Dumbledore stated calmly. 'Does it contain what you'd hoped?'

'It contains something I can modify, at the very least,' the Professor nodded.

'I hope your trip to Azkaban was beneficial, sir,' I remarked.

'Azkaban! What did you go to Azkaban for?' Potter had jumped to his feet and was looking at Snape searchingly. I sighed. Snape cocked an eyebrow.

'Hermione keeps telling me you're intelligent, Potter, so put that brain of yours to use. Why do you think I went there?'

'Draco...' Potter breathed suddenly. 'I suppose Albus pulled some strings to get you in, did he?' He tilted his head at Dumbledore, before adding, 'Why didn't anyone tell me you were going there?'

'Whatever for?' Snape retorted icily. 'What difference could it make to you?'

I watched with interest as Potter bit back the retort I knew he wanted to make, before he asked, relatively calmly, 'Did you get any information from him?'

Professor Severus cocked his eyebrow at him skeptically, and I could tell he was a little surprised at the boy's relative politeness. He looked at Potter as if considering something, before turning to me, 'Had a little talk with Potter here, did you, Nettie?' I flushed, and hoped it was dark humor I was hearing in his voice, and not irritation.

'You look tired, sir. Can I get you some tea?'

He actually smiled when I asked this, 'Someone must have told you a tea cures all ills, the way you bandy it about woman. Yes, a tea would not be remiss.' He turned to Albus and Potter again, 'I needed to talk to you both, anyway. Would you mind staying here for a bit? I just need to talk to Hermione – and then I want to try something.'

Both men nodded their assent, Potter watching with great interest as Snape moved into Miss Granger's line of vision and leaned forward to look into her eyes. In the sudden silence of the room, I quickly conjured the tea service and prepared tea for all of us, handing a hot cup to Professor Severus the moment he straightened up.

'Thank you, Nettie,' he said, absently taking it from me as he studied Hermione. 'Hermione tells me you finished 'Wuthering Heights' today?'

'Yes, indeed,' I replied, smiling. 'I told her tomorrow we would start 'Sense and Sensibility', if that was okay with her.'

'She loves Jane Austen,' he remarked, reaching out a finger and absently pushing a curl from her face, being careful not to touch her skin. From the corner of my eye, I saw Potter stiffen slightly, before forcing himself to relax a bit.

'Are you going to tell us why we're still here, Snape,' he managed to grit out. His knuckles were so tight around the dainty handle of his teacup I was surprised the thing hadn't shattered. Professor Severus turned to look at him, nodding.

'Of course, Potter.' His voice was not as cold as it could have been, but it was not exactly friendly either. 'First, I want to see if I can find Hermione just through touch alone. It occurred to me today – something Draco said – that perhaps I do not need to be looking into her eyes to enter her mind.'

'You've touched her before, haven't you?' Potter's voice was genuinely curious. 'Wouldn't you have noticed if that were the case?'

Snape shifted uncomfortably, 'Perhaps. Perhaps not. It's not something I've been looking for, so I might not have noticed it. And, I have reason to believe my reaction to her has become stronger since...Saturday.'

'What happened Saturday?' Potter was instantly suspicious.

'Hermione had a theory she wanted me to test,' Severus replied curtly. 'She wanted to rule out that a... kiss... could be a possible cure. So, we – I – did.'

'You kissed her?' Potter's voice rose slightly, 'Did you know about this, Albus?'

'Severus told me about it today, Harry,' the older man replied gently. 'It was a valid theory. A kiss did save the princesses Snow White and Aurora, after all.'

Potter and Snape both snorted at this. The younger man turned back to Snape, his eyes glittering angrily, and demanded, 'So – what happened to make you think you can touch her now without looking at her eyes?'

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'She pulled me in, even when I wasn't looking at her,' he hesitated momentarily, carefully considering his words. 'At least, something pulled me in. I think it might have been the curse.'

'You are insane!' Potter shouted. 'Are you telling me you think the curse is still – is somehow alive in Hermione?'

The professor shrugged, 'I believe so – yes.' A shocked silence reigned for a few moments, before he looked at Hermione, eyes inscrutable, and reached out and grabbed her hand. I knew immediately that he had been right – the minute he touched her, he was with her. They were breathing in tandem and that strange peaceful look that always stole over his features when they were talking was evident on his face.

'My Gods!' I whispered.

'Merlin's balls!' Albus echoed.

'As I thought' Snape said. 'I won't let go of your hand, Hermione. I know you want to be part of this conversation. Albus, Potter, Nettie... we need to talk.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'So – what you're telling us is that the curse is still active?' Potter sounded slightly dubious, but at least he was still listening.

'It makes sense,' Professor Snape replied. 'We've hypothesized the reason I can visit Hermione is because some of the curse hit me – but what if it's more than that? What if the curse is keyed to me? What if it recognized me and let me in?'

Dumbledore was frowning, the normal twinkle in his eyes replaced with worry. 'Severus...'

'Albus,' he cut the older man off, 'I've got it under control.'

'So, you're a target, then. You think it's still trying to get you?' Potter was sitting now, his eyes darting from Hermione to Professor Severus and back again.

Snape shrugged, 'I'm willing to concede it's a strong possibility. The very fact that it gets easier and easier for me to visit Hermione seems to indicate that – something – is letting me in. Hermione wants me to add that she feels it too... she can feel the pull. It's not her doing it, either.'

'But you think you can break the curse, right? You're not going to stop trying, are you?' Potter suddenly sounded panicked, and I looked at him oddly. Severus quirked an eyebrow at him.

'I thought you wanted me to stop trying, Potter. Isn't that what you were discussing with Albus earlier today?' He sneered at the younger man, but his heart wasn't in it. Potter had the grace to flush, but he didn't confirm what Snape had said. His guilty expression said it all for him, anyway.

'I do believe I can free Hermione,' Snape continued. 'Sybill's help in discovering Hermione's aura led me to collecting information on potions that are meant for restoring or balancing one's set of colors in their aura.' He tapped the book on the table for emphasis. 'If we can obtain the proper ingredients of the appropriate color – items with some significance to either Hermione or the curse – I believe it will lead me to developing a modified version of the potion that will allow the proper balance of colors to be restored to Hermione.

'It will require at least two drinkers to perform the necessary charms that will activate the potion in her system. If we can balance out her aura and keep mine stable while I'm in her mind, I believe I shall be able to push her free of the curse so that the new aura can take hold.'

'You can't do it by yourself, Severus.' Dumbledore said tiredly. His voice suddenly sounded old. 'If the curse is as you think, it's strong. Stronger, perhaps, then you yourself are.'

The room was silent at that pronouncement. Professor Severus stepped towards the older man, keeping his grip on Hermione's hand firm as he said gently, 'I cannot leave her there, Albus, when I could free her. Don't ask it of me.'

'What if I drank the potion, too?' Potter asked suddenly. 'You said I might have a link as well, if I absorbed some of the curse when it hit you and Hermione. At the very least, I can transfer my magic to you...'

Snape looked at Potter, considering his offer. 'That might work,' he conceded. 'The potion is a binding potion, and the colors should protect your aura from any tampering by the curse.'

'Is there anyway you can put something in it to make it possible to see the curse?' Potter added. 'If it's visible it should be easier to defeat – or to avoid, if you can.'

'Excellent suggestion, Harry!' Dumbledore smiled at the younger man, seeming to have perked up at his offer. 'And if you are anchoring Snape, it would be easier to bring them both out.'

Professor Severus frowned, 'It is a good idea, Potter. May I ask why you're suddenly so helpful?'

The younger man grinned at him, his look open and honest and devoid of the dislike that was usually there whenever he spoke to Severus. 'We're both working towards the same goal,' he replied. 'I want Hermione back just as much as you do.'

'I doubt that,' the older man growled. I noticed that his fingers were gripping Hermione's tightly, the knuckles white against his pale skin. 'However, I won't say no to any help you are prepared to offer.'

'How long until you can have to potion ready, Severus?' Dumbledore asked.

'Saturday, I believe. Less then a week.'

Here, There and Everywhere by the Beatles

Here, there and everywhere