Chapter 7

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and any quotes and plots you may recognize are those of William Shakespeare.

Snape Apparated outside of number twelve, Grimmauld Place the next afternoon and knocked, still not sure what he was doing there or what he would say. He was about to forget the whole thing and Disapparate when Ginny Apparated next to him. "Mrs. Potter," he said with a nod.

"Severus." She greeted him with a grin as she lowered the wards. "Would you like to come in?"

He was thrown by the huge smile decorating her face; she was never this happy to see him. He assumed her mood was due more to the ring on her finger than his presence at the door. "Is Miss Granger home?" he asked, trying to sound stern, but he could hear the hope in his voice and silently cursed.

Her smile widened. "I think so. She was upstairs in her room when I left." She stepped aside, holding open the door. "Third floor, second door on the right."

He glared at her as he walked inside. Hearing her try to stifle a laugh as he headed up the stairs, he resisted the urge to hex her.

Pausing outside Hermione's door, he took a deep breath and knocked. In his haste to speak to her, he opened the unlocked door before she could reply and then froze. Her back was to him, but he could see her reflection in the mirror. Her hand was tracing a vicious looking cut that started above her breasts and traveled down to her belly button, which was exposed by her unbuttoned trousers.

Her gasp unfroze him; he reached instinctively for her as she reached for her shirt. "I didn't know anyone was here," she muttered.

Unfazed by the fact she was topless before him, he turned her toward him swiftly to examine the wound. He gently touched the angry, red skin next to the abrasion, and she let out a groan of pain. It was then that he noticed the jar of balm in her hand. He took it from her and sniffed it. Recognizing the smell from personal experience, he knew that it was a strong healing balm with a numbing agent included. He raised his eyes to hers. "What happened, Miss Granger? Who did this to you?"

She shrugged out of his grip, and he let her go, his eyes never leaving the line marring her pale skin until she pulled her shirt over it, blocking his view. Emotions raged in him: he was angry that someone dared to hurt her, concerned for her well-being, curious as to why she was keeping this a secret, and fearful that something serious was wrong with her. The woman rumored to love him was hurt, and he wanted to pull her to him and swear he would make it all right, to protect her from anything wrong ever happening again, to avenge her. The sudden intensity of his feelings threw him, but he pushed all emotion aside and concentrated on the woman before him.

She still wasn't looking at him. Gently placing his fingers under her chin, he tilted her head toward him. "What is it, Miss Granger?" he said softly.

He watched, feeling helpless, as tears welled in her eyes. Without thinking, he gathered her in his arms, careful of her wound. Her composure completely crumbled within his embrace. He lightly rubbed her back as he whispered reassurances to her. With his other hand, he wordlessly warded the door; he didn't want any interruptions. There was obviously a reason for her to keep such a thing a secret.

When her sobs quieted, he offered her his handkerchief. "What happened, Hermione?" It was the first time he addressed her by her given name.

She looked up at him, her red-rimmed eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing. Raising a shaky hand, she picked up the jar from the bed where Snape had set it. He watched her toy with it for a minute as if deciding something. Then she surprised him by removing her shirt once again, offering him a weak smile. "Sorry, Severus; it hurts. I need to put this on." She nodded to the balm.

Shocked by hearing his given name fall from her lips and seeing her standing so vulnerable yet strong before him, he couldn't deny that he cared for her as something more than just a sparring partner. But to what extent, he didn't know. He only knew that he wanted her well again, and then they could figure out the rest. He stilled her hand. "May I?"

She held the jar out to him. He dipped his fingers into the cool cream, and with the lightest touch he could manage, he began to apply the salve. He felt her tense with the initial pain of contact but then relaxed as the numbness set in. He focused on the wound, making sure it and the surrounding irritated skin were well coated before helping her pull on her shirt once again.

"Thanks," she said, sitting heavily on the bed, as if what was on her mind was physically weighing her down.

He had to know what happened. Kneeling before her, he took her hands in his. "Talk to me, please, pet." The term of endearment slipped out, but he let it go, not wanting to call attention to it.

"There is nothing you can do, Severus. There is nothing anyone can do." She sighed wearily before finally looking at him. "The only person who can reverse the curse is now nothing but a shell of a man in Azkaban."

"Lucius!" Snape spat.

She nodded.

Swearing, he gently squeezed her hand. "Tell me all of it, Hermione."

"There isn't much to tell. He hit me with some unknown hex, and the healers at St. Mungo's have been unable to close the wound. The only hope was to interrogate Lucius to find out what he did. But that is no longer possible."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"Why? So everyone can feel sorry for me? Try to protect me?"

"Maybe we could help you?"

"No one can help me," she said. Looking away, she mumbled something he didn't hear.

"What was that, pet?" Damn! He'd done it again.

"The only way to help is to kill Lucius," she said flatly.

"What?" Surprise filled his voice.

"While trying to find the hex, I discovered a Dark Arts spell that, when performed while killing an enemy, will reverse all the hexes that person cast. Either Lucius dies, or I spend the rest of my years in pain, until the curse spreads enough to kill me."

"Spreads?"

"The original curse scar was only about three inches," she said offhandedly.

He was horrified. "You've been dealing with this all alone for nearly six months? Oh, Hermione."

His emotions, running far ahead of his thoughts, guided his lips to hers. His mouth brushed her lips in the tenderest of kisses, meant to siphon off her pain. He was surprised to feel her hands move to his shoulders as she opened her mouth in invitation.

It was a kiss unlike any he had ever experienced. All the unspoken emotions welling up in both of them poured forth into each other. It was not about lust or sex, but about something more. He gently ended the kiss and pulled back to look in her eyes.

"I will do whatever it takes to heal you," he swore to her.

"You would kill Lucius for me? Perform Dark Magic?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral as if she didn't want to influence his answer or betray her own thoughts.

He tried to keep his features schooled; he didn't want her to know just how much he despised what she was asking of him. He gave her a single nod.

"Oh, Severus!" She threw her arms around him and kissed him, hard.

This time it was she who broke the kiss. "Thank you," she said with a small smile. "But I cannot, will not, ask that of you."

"Hermione, I ... I care for you," he admitted. "I swear by my hand," he clasped her small hand in his, "that I will do whatever I can to help you heal."

"Use those wonderful hands for something other than swearing, Severus. Maybe if we work together, we can come up with a potion or some other way to heal me." She slid onto the floor in front of him. "But don't make a vow to me. I daresay you have made enough of those for one lifetime."

"Hermione, if it is the only way ..."

"Then I will deal with it," she said firmly.

"You cannot mean – "

"Shh!" she brought a finger to his lips. "Let's not talk of this anymore. Tell me, what brought you here today?"

"I," he started and then stalled, his initial intent long lost in the midst of the revelation. "I came to see if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow."

"I'd like that, Severus." She graced him with a smile.

Even with tear-swollen eyes and blotchy skin, he found her beautiful and brave. He owed Lupin and his annoying cohorts for bringing to his attention the truth about the amazing witch before him. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Will you be all right?" He gestured toward her wound.

"The balm will keep me numb for a few hours."

He stared at her, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or putting up a brave front. Not wanting to disrespect her by invading her privacy, he resisted the urge to use Legilimency to find out and took her at her word.

"Until tomorrow, then," he said standing.

At the door, he paused and turned back toward her. "If you should need me or any other potion to help with the pain, please don't hesitate to owl."

She smiled her thanks and he left the room, feelings of anticipation for tomorrow warring with the injustice that had befallen the young woman who had broken through his barriers. After all these years, he had finally found someone to care about, only to discover he may very well lose her. He thought of Malfoy, and anger roared to life in him.

She will not die, he swore.

Author's Notes: As you can see, we've entered the Serious Arc of the story, a plot point that deviates from Shakespeare. I was never fond of the Claudio/Hero subplot in "Much Ado," and I wanted to keep this story centered on Hermione and Snape. But fear not, Shakespeare and snark will make a comeback.

Many thanks to Zafania and Tjwritter, who suffered through the first draft, and to Logical Quirk, who made sure I didn't make more mistakes.