Healer and Housemate

~o0o~

Day 10

A small timer next to her bed chimed, waking Hermione from a restless sleep. Fragments of memories from her last year still haunted her dreams, and she wasn't yet conditioned to the time schedule she had to keep as Snape's full-time Healer. Even at St. Mungo's, they must work in shifts, she mused, stretching. Maybe I'll ask Professor Snape if I can use some of his Sleeping Potion or if there would be a lighter version of Dreamless Sleep that I can use. She quickly dressed in a fresh short sleeve sweater and jeans with a pair of soft boots and exited the sitting room to check on her patient.

She found him asleep when she entered the room and debated waking him. She was going to serve eggs and toast today, knowing that she would be able to cook those well enough to be edible. How badly can someone screw up scrambled eggs anyway? Nine small vials and jars and the mixing bowl she'd been using to wash his wound sat on the shelves in the hutch. She carried the bowl into the kitchen to fill it with hot water and set a kettle on the stove.

She turned and exited the room, passing by Snape as he slept, and walked into the hallway that ran the length of the house, from the potions lab along the dining room and kitchen, ending at the back door. The second exit – except that I can't exit, which doesn't do me any good since I can't leave. She passed the half loo and a door to a room as she stepped from the dining room, heading toward the door that opened into a sunroom which also seemed to serve as an atrium. Herbs and magical plants lined the walls and filled tabletops. It also contained a makeshift clothesline now. She reached up to retrieve her flannel from the line and then collected the towels, pajamas and two sets of sheets she'd washed yesterday. Maybe I can get him to lie on my bed while I change his. That would be easier than levitating him while doing it. Once again, Hermione marveled at how gifted house-elves were. She still felt tired and stiff as she folded the sheets and carried the laundry into the dining room boudoir.

Snape's eyes were open when she walked past his bedside. "Good morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning to you too, sir." She set the laundry aside on her chair as she went to fill the bowl with warm water and cast an Anti-Spilling Charm. "Shall we see how the wound looks this morning?" she asked as she set the bowl on the bed. He only grunted his consent, his expression completely impassive as she carefully began to remove his dressing. There was some murky mustard-colored drainage on the bandage, but there wasn't any putrid smell emanating from the wound. In the sites closest to where Nagini's fangs had bitten him, the wound was still oozing slightly with tiny traces of blood and the yellow-white secretion that seemed to never quite go away. So far, he hadn't indicated to her that the wound was infected, but she was still worried. The flesh of the gash was not closing yet. It was still a dark reddish-pink, and the light grey, yellowish tinge was more prominent, and the free edges along the wound and in the center were a yellowish-white. The normal skin along the wound was a dark reddish purple and his neck looked slightly swollen. It didn't look any better to her than it had several days ago. She gently cleaned his wound, careful with her debridement so as not to tear open the delicate flesh. She tried to gauge whether the wound had closed up at all but was unable to tell with any certainty whether or not it had.

"Let me see," he hissed through clenched teeth.

She handed him the mirror and walked over to the hutch to gather his potions. She carefully selected what she would need. Deep Tissue Regenerative Potion, Anti-Infection Salve, Anti-Inflammatory Salve, Pain Potion, Muscle-Relaxant Draught, Skin-Regenerative Potion and Salve...

"My neck is swelling, I'll need the Anti-Swelling Salve," he said with a scratchy voice.

Hermione picked up a Throat-Soothing Elixir. "I have it here and the rest. Don't you trust me by now, sir?" She set down the collection on the bed and measured out the dose from the Deep Tissue Regenerative Potion.

"Old habits die hard, Miss Granger. I trust so few people," he said and swallowed his potion.

She measured out the Pain Potion, handing it to him. "I think I can understand that, sir," she said as picked up the Skin-Regenerative Salve to apply to his wound.

He flinched as she tenderly dabbed in the salve. "Do you?"

He said it as a barb, but Hermione chose to ignore his tone. "Yes. Considering everything you did and were forced to do in this war. I don't doubt you," she said as she applied the Anti-Infection Salve into the wound.

"As if you have any idea what I was forced or coerced to do, Miss Granger."

She aimed her wand tip to the salve, uttering the incantation from Ginny's book and watched the salve absorb into the tissue. "No, probably not. I do know that Dumbledore used you as his spy, personal Potions master, Healer and confidant. I assume that Riddle used you as a spy, infiltrator, and gods know what else," she explained as she applied the Anti-Inflammatory Salve to his entire neck. She was glad to see that the Pain Potion was at least helping him with the pain of her ministration. "I suppose it would be arrogant of me to say 'I know what you went through,' but not improper to acknowledge that you played a significant role in the war. That's all I meant by my statement." Hermione carefully wrapped up his neck again as he stared at her in silence and then carried the old bandage to the sink to let it soak in soap before she'd have to clean it out.

That done, she washed her hands, changed Arimus' water and gave him one of the rabbit's front legs to eat. He clicked his beak at her when she tenderly stroked his feathers. She made breakfast, carrying Snape's food to him on a tray, before sitting down at the kitchenette table to eat.

"Why then do you refuse to sit with me if you claim to respect me so?"

Hermione looked up surprised at his accusation. "I don't!" Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "I mean, it's easier to eat at the table. I never could manage eating while holding a plate in one hand very well." His expression hardened. "Look, my parents used to have, or attended, cocktail parties frequently. Refreshments, appetizers, d'oeuvres... I always found it difficult to hold on to those little plates, balance my punch and eat. Especially when I needed to use a fork or knife. And buffets... I never really liked buffets unless there were tables."

Hermione noticed that his lips almost curled into a smile that disappeared as he ate. "So, what would you like to do after breakfast, other than turn me into a toad?" she asked cheekily.

What he wanted to do was brew potions. However, it was Hermione that brewed his potions, two cauldrons at a time as he snapped and barked orders, corrected her technique and berated or corrected her on how she held her knife, her spoon or her ladle. After the second set of potions, she turned on him. "Do you think it remotely possible for you to correct me without being such a tyrant?" she snapped.

His eyes narrowed in anger. "This is my house and..."

"Yes, your house. Not Hogwarts. I'm not your student. And this is not a classroom." She crossed her arms defiantly, not backing down from his angry glare.

He narrowed his eyes into a scowl. "You will show me due respect in my own house, Miss Granger."

"I have been – everyday. I've put up with your insults, scolding, rebukes, reprimands, chiding and chastisement for years. I'm only here to help you. The least you could do is show me a little respect as well."

Snape glowered at her, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. He pulled himself upright by the armrests of his chair, leaning closer to her. "I don't have to take this from an insufferable girl like you."

"No, you don't," she said more calmly than she felt. His movement didn't escape her notice, but she didn't acknowledge it either. "But I am here, and I'm not leaving yet." Snape raised his eyebrow, and his mouth twitched. Hermione continued undaunted by his ire. "You cannot take house points from me, and I'm not doing all this as a detention."

"I don't want you here," he snarled.

"You brought me here, whether you intended to or not." She crossed her arms and tried to control her temper. "Consider it fate if you like. If I wasn't here, you'd be dead. You were nearly dead when we arrived here in your sitting room. And another war hero would have died – but without the acknowledgement that you deserve."

Snape's lip curled up slightly. "I'm no war hero, Miss Granger, you're delusional," he said condescendingly with an expression that almost resembled humor, but the next instant he was sneering once more. "I'm a Death Eater and spy, a killer and a traitor. You have no idea the kind of man I am."

"Oh, yes I do. You do have good qualities – when you allow people to see them. You're brilliant, dedicated, steadfast, reliable, talented, imaginative and creative. I read your seventh-year Potions book..." Snape looked at her thoughtfully during her admission, then glowered at her again, and his dark eyes narrowing dangerously when she'd mentioned his book. "What I can deduce from what I know about you, you're loyal, trustworthy and stoic. You are also the bravest person I've ever known. You give everything and expect nothing. And you usually get nothing in return, so you've come to expect that. No wonder you're so sour and untrusting."

Snape's face relaxed, and he snorted, and he leaned back against the back of his chair. "So you do see me as some kind of hero. I'm afraid that you are the only one, Miss Granger."

"Oh, you'd love to believe that, wouldn't you?" She smiled and relaxed against the worktable. "Do you think I am the only one that knows how much you contributed to this war? The only one who knows that you passed on valuable information to the Order, at great personal risk? The only one who knows that you stood by Harry, Ron and me, watching out for us all these years? Believe me, there are others who know all this, too. Or do you think I harbor some school girl infatuation for you and have placed you on some kind of pedestal?"

A deep chuckle escaped his throat and he scoffed at her, "Really, Miss Granger. How naïve." She opened her mouth, and he held up his hand to cut her off. "I know that if I'd been taken to the castle I'd be in an Auror-guarded room at St. Mungo's right now," he sneered before he schooled his features once again into their usual state of indifference. "As they waited until I was either dead or cleared to be hauled off to Azkaban."

"You don't know that," she answered more curtly than she intended.

He pulled himself upright with the armrests again, watching her with a sardonic grin. "Oh, don't I?"

"Believe me, when this is all over, they will know the truth. Everyone. I'll see to that personally. I'll have Harry, Ron, Hagrid and every member of the Order on my side, too."

"And I'll be in Azkaban."

She turned her head, exhaling loudly at his statement. She couldn't deny that. There will be a trial. Her eyes fell on the four cauldrons cooling on the racks. "What are these for? These are not potions for you... However, I do know that they are healing potions of some kind."

"Yes, they are healing potions, Miss Granger. Very astute of you. They are potions to cure the effects of some of the more creative hexes and curses the Death Eater's like to use. Arimus will take them to St. Mungo's."

Hermione looked at him, with her head cocked to one side as she regarded his comments. "Oh, yes, just the sort of thing a hardened criminal would do – create healing potions for those who were hit by spells the Healers at St. Mungo's wouldn't or might not be able to identify," she said condescendingly with a big smile. "A true self-centered misanthrope."

He leaned back in his chair, his expression impassive. "Are you finished chastising me, Miss Granger? There are more potions that need to be made, if you feel you are up to the challenge.

"Oh, I'm up for it, sir," she said standing up. "What's the list? Or are you just going to bark one direction at a time at me?"

*

Hermione lay back in the roasting pot-tub, soaking away her aches from the long hard day in the potions lab. Four potions were simmering overnight and would need to be continued the next afternoon. They had eaten lunch at his desk in the lab since the four potions were at different stages and she couldn't leave them for too long. Nevertheless, she'd finished four more potions, bottled and labeled the eight potions they'd made that day, adding a Buoyancy Charm on the huge box, and sent Arimus off to deliver the potions to a Healer by the name of Kirkwell who Snape knew well and who trusted him.

Arimus had yet to return, and she hoped he wouldn't until after she finished her bath. Snape would need his dressing changed again in an hour, so unless Arimus returned before that, she had at least a good forty minutes to relax in the hot water. At least he knew a charm that made beds make themselves. All I had to do was lay the sheets and blankets out on the bed and wave my wand. Something he could have told me days ago... unless he likes seeing me bent over his bed, struggling to even out the covers and tuck in the corners. But blimey, he gets so cranky when I have to bathe him. She opened her eyes to listen carefully to the sounds in the room. He was snoring softly, then quieted. He is improving, physically. He's able to pull himself upright into a sitting position as long as I have the Spine-Locker Curse on him like a kind of Muggle halo support. She closed her eyes and tried to sink lower into her warm bath water. I hate to have to wake him to change his dressing. He was up all day, and he will need his sleep. But that can't be helped, he's such a light sleeper.

~o0o~

Day 11

"What do you think you want to know?"

Hermione had helped Snape to the table for breakfast, since he could now sit up by himself with the Spine-Locker Curse on him for short periods at a time. After changing his dressing again, she had practiced altering the curse to affect only his cervical and thoracic vertebrae, which allowed him a little better movement but still strongly supported his head and shoulders. She did notice that he was able to use his legs a little better and that he had good use of his arms now. That was highly encouraging to her at least, although when she'd mentioned it Snape became sullen.

"Pardon me?" Hermione asked, surprised. His question startled her since he hadn't been very talkative since she woke him up this morning. The letters Arimus had delivered late last night were folded up in his pocket, and Hermione knew that they had come from Potion Master Kirkwell, and the other letter was from the Healer-in-Charge of the Merwyn Mordaunt Spell Damage Ward for Accidental and Intentional Curses, Hexes and Jinxes.

"About me, Miss Granger," he said between bites. "You claimed to know me, to understand the motives behind my actions and everything I was forced and or coerced to do in this war." He watched her with an intense scrutiny as he sipped his tea.

She swallowed and took a sip of mint tea before answering. "I only claim to understand why you did some of the things you did."

"Some of the things I did," he repeated with a slow lazy drawl. "Like why I became a Death Eater? Like why I saved some people and betrayed others, such as Emmeline Vance, Charity Burbage and Theodore Smithers? Why I killed Dumbledore?" he sneered.

She looked up at him, bewildered that he brought up the very questions she'd been dying to ask him. "Well, no..." was all she could think of to say as a reply. She picked up a sausage link and bit the end off.

"Please use a fork," he snapped, and she dropped the sausage on her plate. "I suppose you expect me to tell you, to help quench your Gryffindor curiosity. How someone like me could do those things a true and loyal Gryffindor, like yourself, wouldn't dream of doing to people they knew."

She set down her fork and looked up at him contemplating his words carefully. Both a snide compliment and a cutting chastisement. How Slytherin. "Actually, no, I don't."

He ate a while in silence, watching her. Hermione felt like she was not only being evaluated but also judged.

"But you would like me to," he said in his smooth silky drawl. "You want me to tell you how I could betray friends, curse and hex someone I know, allow someone I know to die, or why I killed Dumbledore?"

Hermione looked up at him trying to suppress the emotions she felt at his words. "Yes, I do," she admitted.

"And you expect me to tell you?" he said scornfully.

"No," she said, shaking her head and cutting her sausage link in three pieces. "I don't. It would be presumptuous of me to ask."

"Pick one. Which do you want to know?" He asked, then ate another bite of his eggs, still staring intently at her.

Hermione looked up, her soft brown eyes meeting his dark fathomless black, surprised by his questioning gaze. Her gaze wandered to the edge of the table as she contemplated his offer, then she looked at his neck before her eyes flicked back to his eyes. "I suppose I would like to know why you became a Death Eater."

He regarded her for a moment. "My Mum had taught me Dark Arts before school to be able to defend myself from tormentors. She'd been picked on her first years and didn't want me to suffer as she did. Nevertheless, I was a loner at school, Miss Granger, picked on by four Gryffindors from the first day on the train. My only friends were Ceardn Avery, Roche Mulciber, Rod Lestrange and Bella Black. Bella was different back then, and Rosier and Wilkes liked me – I got hooked in with them. Lucius and Narcissa were my house prefects." He paused to take another bite, and then continued. "Lucius would often have to speak to me regarding my dueling with Potter and Black during my first three years, but he encouraged me to do what I needed to protect myself. Around my sixth year, Rosier and Mulciber urged me to join the Dark Lord. The following summer I was brought before him. I was eagerly accepted and vouched for by both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange."

Hermione nodded, understanding what he was saying, and surprised that he'd confessed that to her. "Same way I became involved with the Order of the Phoenix – it was who I was associated with. It was just sort of natural to join." He nodded. "And the people you say you betrayed... it was because you couldn't save them, wasn't it?"

"Your Gryffindor sensibilities would like me to say that was the case, wouldn't you? I hate to disappoint you. The fact is that sometimes I had to allow things to happen, make sacrifices to maintain my good standing, my role, on both sides. Even Dumbledore would make sacrifices for the greater good. The Dark Lord simply killed those who displeased him. However, both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord insisted that I do what was necessary to keep my cover at all costs. Sometimes I was unable to give advance warning of attacks or to prevent deaths... But do keep in mind – I gave warnings to both sides of the war – not just one, sometimes misleading and sometimes not. That was the role I played – and I did it well."

Hermione looked up at him, unable to conceal the turbulent emotions that his confession gave her. "I do know that there were many times that you did give us warnings, that you did save lives."

"Don't glamorize it, Miss Granger. I always saved my own neck," he said scornfully. "But this isn't what you really want to know, is it?"

Hermione averted her eyes to the small timer sitting next to her. It was nearly time to do the next steps to her potions. "Yes," she answered, then looked back at Snape. His lips curled into a sardonic grin, and he quirked his eyebrow up a notch. "Well, partly," she confessed.

"It's time to check on your potions. Story time is over," he said, leaning back in his chair. Hermione quickly cleared the dishes and set them to soak to wash later. She cast the Mobilicorpus Charm and moved to stand next to him so that he could wrap his arm across her shoulders. She smiled as she noticed that he was actually able to walk somewhat, even though he still didn't have his full body weight on his legs yet.

"Is something funny," he snapped as they turned toward the potions lab.

"Huh?" She looked up at him and noticed that he was scowling at her. "Oh, no! I was just noticing that you have better control of your legs today."

"Oh."

*

The day had gone rather quickly for Hermione. Of the four potions she started yesterday, one was finally complete, the other would be finished tomorrow and the third in two days. Snape had placed the directions for several potions on the wall. One potion, a variation of the Dreamless Sleep Potion she asked him for, was finished well before lunch; however, the other four potions had taken her nearly all day to complete. If Snape hadn't aligned the steps, coordinating the introductions of the ingredients with markers and arrows to indicate which ingredient went into each potion at which time, Hermione would have ruined all of them. However, his simple technique made complete sense to her, and she went back to look at the wall after putting Snape to bed to carefully examine the technique in order to learn just how it was done.

She found a quill and parchment and wrote out what she remembered of two potions she'd brewed at Hogwarts and tried to coordinate the brewing times and ingredient introductions, using his technique. It wasn't as neatly done as his when she'd finished, but it was doable. She copied down two more potions at random, trying the technique again. She made several tries, but one part of the process still wouldn't fit properly unless she added a stasis charm. Frustrated, she stood up to figure out just how he managed to write out the process with four potions, when she was having trouble doing it with two.

She was still staring at the potion directions and wondering how Snape had coordinated the brewing times when she heard him call out her name. She quickly ran back to his side, realizing that it was time to do his midnight dressing change.

~o0o~

Day 12

Snape had been a bad mood all morning. Hermione smiled when she greeted him, but her smile only seemed to irritate him even more. He told her he'd already taken the Pain Potion, handing her the vial and crossing his arms. She chose to disregard his sullen attitude and managed to maintain her patience as she removed the dressing and cleaned his neck. He scowled at her the whole time, although he was at least cooperative with her. She let him apply the salves himself to the front of his neck and touched up the back of the wound for him. He couldn't do the Absorption Charm on himself, so she had to do that for him also, and he had spilt a little of the Deep Tissue Regenerative Potion on his chest, when he tried to pour out his own dose. So, he'd been curt and cantankerous while she measured out his Skin-Regenerative Potion and then redressed his neck.

Hermione's timer went off just as they finished, so she levitated and assisted him to the potions lab to observe the status of the potions. Afterwards, she assisted him to the table for breakfast, pleased he was using his legs more than before.

After breakfast, they had to return to the potions lab. However, after Hermione added the morning ingredients, there was a two-hour break before the next step for one potion, and the other two still needed to sit for three. Snape was adamant about staying put. "Just let me sit at my desk! I don't want to be floated around the house all day, Miss Granger. Leave me here. I have work to do," he snapped when she suggested that he go back to bed.

She knew better by now not to argue with him. "Fine. I'll be in the sitting room. Call me if...."

"I won't need you until lunch," he snapped.

Hermione went to her room and plopped down on the on the floor to finish scribbling notes with her quill. Her Latin dictionary, Charms books and a parchment lay in front of her, and her inkwell sat by her side next to three timers, one for each potion simmering on the worktable in the potions lab.

She had been encouraged by the fact that Snape was gaining strength in his legs, but knew that she should stop using the Mobilicorpus Charm, which was too strong now, so that he would gain sufficient strength to be able to walk again. Therefore, she was trying to create a spell that would support Snape upright, levitate him slightly and yet allow him to walk. She knew that Snape had invented the Levicorpus Jinx as a means to get back at Harry's dad and Sirius, although it suspended the victim upside-down. She was considering a variation using the Levicorpus and Wingardium Leviosa. Leviosa, which means to lift up or raise. That's what's common between them.... Erectus, erecta or erectum, raised, upright, erect, respectively. "So possibly consider, erecta," she mumbled as she jotted it down. Erecta Leviosa?

"How about hang, or hover?" she mumbled aloud. Pendeo – to hang. Pependi – to hang loose, hover, to be suspended... "Hover! Pependi Leviosa, that is a possibility." I can levitate books and the chair – but would it work on Snape? I need someone to test this on... Who can tell me if it works... His owl!

Hermione went to the kitchen to see if Arimus would agree to let her levitate him. "I want to see if I can support you magically, but not actually float you in the air. Like magical Muggle crutches, only without the crutches," she tried to explain her intentions to Arimus. He ruffled his feathers in response and alighted on her arm, screeching softly and clicking his beak as if asking her something. "I don't think it will hurt you – it may be uncomfortable – but that's what I need you to tell me so I don't hurt Snape," she explained as she carried the owl into the sitting room with her.

Arimus seemed to agree to let her levitate him, although her few tries at varying the Levicorpus jinx didn't amuse the stoic owl. He screeched in protest each time he was hung upside down in mid air. He didn't care much for either spell using Mobilis, nor did he like Pendeo Leviosa, which literally held him up, wings stretched out as if hung on the wall.

Arimus landed on the back of the chair as soon as she released the spell, watching her quietly from on his perch.

She looked at her English to Latin dictionary again, and then turned to a Latin to English version to check the translations. Similar. Okay how about suspend or hover? She turned the pages and found the entry she was looking for. Suspendo – to hang up. Suspendere – to prop up, support. Suspendi – to keep in suspense, leave undecided... nope, definitely not... Hermione considered then she wrote them down on her parchment just in case. Suspendere is the closest. "Suspendere Leviosa, perhaps?" She wrote down the possible incantations for the spell she was trying to create, and then looked up at Arimus again. "Shall I give it another go?"

Arimus screeched softly and ruffled his feathers again, then looked at her, his dark eyes impassive.

"I'll take that as a yes. Okay... Erecta Leviosa," she said using the same wand movement as she would have with the spell Wingardium Leviosa. He didn't levitate. Other than the appearance that Arimus looked like he was sitting up straighter, there wasn't any difference. "Well, I know what to use to get my kids to sit straight at the table."

Arimus screeched in annoyance.

"Oops, sorry, Finite Incantatem," she said, releasing Arimus who bristled then settled, looking at her annoyed. "I said I was sorry."

"Granger!" she heard Snape bark through the open secret panel.

"Coming!" Hermione rose and went quickly to see what Snape needed. Entering his potions lab, she approached his desk. "What is it?" she asked.

"What are you doing to my owl?" he snapped irritably, his back straight and his hands flat on the surface of his desk.

Hermione turned her head in the direction of the door. "Oh, um... practicing spells."

"On my owl?" he asked in a scathing tone, his dark eyes flashing angrily and his expression murderous.

"Well, um, yes," she stammered, dropping her gaze to the floor. He opened his mouth to reprimand her, but Hermione cut him off. "You have been getting stronger – a little bit – and you're able to use your legs more. Therefore, I thought that there had to be a spell to support you without actually levitating you off the floor, but still keeping your weight off your legs. Like crutches, only with magic and not stick supports that..."

"I know what crutches are, Miss Granger. I've used a pair!" he snapped, angrily. "That still doesn't give you leave to torture my owl."

"I wasn't!" she exclaimed and immediately regretted it. It wasn't actually a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. Arimus didn't like the effects of her attempts, nevertheless, he'd agreed to let her use him in order to help his owner. "I wasn't actually hurting him! Just suspending him... or was trying to. I told him to tell me if I hurt him or if he wanted to stop."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he glared at her. "So you think you can understand the subtle communication habits of my owl?"

"No, we have our own signals!" Hermione insisted, lest he think Arimus hadn't agreed to help her.

"Enlighten me," he said in a deep, deliberate drawl that sent shivers down Hermione's spine, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I asked him to click his beak if annoyed, to screech if he was hurt or to turn around if he'd had enough..." she quickly explained, "and didn't want to... do any others." She lowered her head, knowing that she should have told him first or to at least ask his permission. If he'd had his wand handy, she knew he would have cursed her.

"Others?" he asked slowly and deliberately.

Her eyes snapped up to fixate on his. "Yes, the ones I was trying..." His dark fathomless eyes glared into her as if reading her soul. "Of the spells I was trying to... create..."

Snape glowered as he looked at her, deeply thoughtful as if considering the best possible curse to use on her. "Show me." Hermione quickly ran to retrieve her parchment and hand it to Snape.

He snatched the parchment from her hand and read it carefully, his eyes narrowing several times. "This is what you have been doing all morning?"

"Yes," she admitted, swallowing under is angry glare. "Well... yes." Oh Merlin, he's mad...

He looked down at her parchment, his eyes scanning it quickly. "Erecta Leviosa, Pependi Leviosa or, Suspendere Leviosa, is this what you have come up with?" He handed it back to her as if it offended him. "What about other the seven you have listed in your notes. You have them all crossed off. Did you use all these on my owl?"

"No, only two of those, but I rejected the others. I tried Erecta Leviosa, and Pendeo Leviosa. I was about to try Pependi Leviosa," she explained, slightly intimidated. Could he possibly forgive me for using his owl? I only did it for him...

"What effect did you achieve?" he asked after a long pause.

Now that's the professor tone I know so well. "Erecta Leviosa is great for poor posture," she said, a little too cheeky. "Pendeo Leviosa would be good if I wanted to hang a tapestry."

He shifted as if to rise from the desk. "All right, Miss Granger. Show me."

Well might as well give a go... "Pependi Leviosa," she said, but little happened.

"Stiffen the wrist and move the wand with confidence," he directed. She tried several wand motions, still with no effect. "Scratch that one, try the other," he said with more patience than she would have expected. However, little happened when she tried Suspependi Leviosa. Suspendere Leviosa, however, worked the second try, but not the third.

"It's the wand movement, Miss Granger. Reverse the flick," Snape corrected her. Hermione tried again, and he was able to stand as long as he still used the desk for support. His legs were shaky, but he was at least standing. Nevertheless, the spell supported all his actual body weight. "Help me walk," he demanded.

Hermione adjusted his position so that her shoulder fit snugly under his arm. As a couple we're the perfect height for each other, she thought ruefully. "Where to?"

"My atrium," he asked, trying to make his legs move in a normal walking gait.

Hermione steered him along the hallway and into the sunroom. He appeared momentarily cross when he saw the clothesline, but made no scathing comment about it. Hermione had just helped him sit on a lounge chair when she heard her timers go off and ran to do the next steps of her potion.

When her potions once again needed to sit and simmer, Hermione walked down to the sunroom to peek in on him. "Stop gawking at me and come in." Hermione was stunned to see that he had a small Abyssinian Shrivelfig in his hands, turning the pot carefully to check the foliage. "Would you please set this on the table?"

"Sure. Ah, how did you?" she asked, flicking her finger from him to the plant. His expression turned to annoyance as he held the plant up to her. She took the small pot and placed it on one of the tables near him. "You can do wandless magic?"

"Obviously I can Levitate and Summon small objects. However, it seems I'm unable to Repell," he said, focusing his attention on the plants on the table in front of him. "What color and consistency are the potions?"

"One is finished and cooling. It's an opaque turquoise. The other two are a thick, visceral puce and a watery, burnt orange. I've lowered the flame on both. Do you want to come see?" Hermione noticed a potted euphorbia wood spurge wobble a little, then became still. "Do you want me to hand that one to you, sir?"

Snape shifted slowly to look up at her, with a bored expression, and turned slowly back to face the table of plants. "Apparently, yes. And no, I don't want to go see. Was there something else you wanted, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, yes, I need to change your dressing and it's time for lunch," she piped up, retrieving the plant. "What did you want today, ham or roast beef?"

"Let me guess, sandwiches and vegetable soup?" he asked, with his usual sneer. "Does it matter?" Hermione glowered at his tone. "Fine. Surprise me."

Hermione practically stomped into the kitchen, irritated by his curtness. She set the rabbit stew on the stove to heat, then pulled out both loaves of bread. Can bread be transformed into cheese? she wondered, looking at the older loaf. Only the six slices remained. I've seen Mrs. Weasley transform milk and cream into cheese, and I think I remember her transforming bread... She racked her brain for the charm she needed. If only I could ask Ginny... Of course. She ran to the sitting room and pulled out her DA Galleon. I have to keep it simple, she thought as she held the galleon on her palm. Tell charm change bread cheese?

She waited only minutes before her coin vibrated and read: Crustum Vero Cāseus. It vibrated again, Mozzarella, then changed and read; swish left, point. It vibrated again as Hermione finished writing the first incantation. Crustum Novo Cāseus, appeared, then changed to, cheddar cheese, then read; same wand. Hermione wrote that down and Crustum Mutatio Cāseus appeared, then changed to, makes Jack a second after Hermione wrote that down, then vibrated again to read: swish right, tap, tap.

She tried Crustum Novo Cāseus, and on the third try, the slice of bread slightly resembled cheddar cheese.

Snape was lying back in the chair when she came to get him. He was wobbly, trying to walk to the table, but refused to be put back on his bed. She changed his dressing at the table and then made grilled cheese sandwiches. She tried asking questions about the potion and the next steps just for conversation. His answers were blunt and direct but at least amiable. She told him about Transfiguring the bread into cheese, but he merely grunted at that, unimpressed. She did notice that he ate the entire grilled cheese sandwich and more than half his soup, so she knew that his appetite was all right. Just as Hermione cleared the table, a screech came from the sitting room. "See whose owl that is, Miss Granger," Snape said wearily.

Hermione returned with a thin envelope and a sizable bag of coins. Snape read the letter, his expression slowly turning into a deep scowl. "What is it?"

"It's personal," he stated dismissively. "I think I should lie down." Hermione nodded and helped him to bed. "Come and get me before you introduce the schizocarp seeds or prepare the paneriflora flowers, Miss Granger. The next four steps are crucial. Now please go and let me rest."

She watched him silently a moment from the doorway before walking back to check her potions, adjusting the flame under one of the cauldrons. Just before the timer went off again she went to wake Snape and helped him walk to the lab to instruct her. She'd set the paneriflora flowers floating in raw sugar water on the worktable earlier and they had finally opened. It was the anthers and the ovule of the flowers she needed to use and Hermione had to peel back the petals, exposing the style and remove the ovule without actually touching the ovary itself. Snape guided her through the delicate process of trimming off the anthers and removed the ovules, grunting in approval when she successfully completed all six flowers.

She felt elated as she stirred the potion the required nine times, watching the color turn a bright orange. She added the Manjra juice to the second cauldron, dropped in the schizocarp seeds and lowered the flame, watching the turquoise color darken. He nodded and sat back in his chair, obviously feeing weary.

Snape used her wand to write three potions on the wall, using his technique of arrows and markings to coordinate the brewing timing and ingredient introductions. Still, the brewing of his potions was daunting and stressful under his critical stare. He still snapped his directions curtly, although not nearly as harshly as before. It was hard work, but she managed to produce each of the potions to his exacting expectations. She bottled the potions, wrote out the directions and affixed the labels, placing the bottles into a box. Snape had her place the Buoyancy Charm on the box again so Arimus could carry the heavy box to St. Mungo's that night.

By dinnertime, Hermione noticed that Snape was looking peaked. She changed his dressing, but he refused to eat, opting instead to rest until it was time to change his dressing again. Hermione ate the last of the rabbit soup alone, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. She tidied the kitchen quietly and decided to read in the sitting room for a while. Snape's hand reached out and caught her wrist as she passed by his bed. "Yes?"

"Why are you doing all this for me?"

She was confused. "Because you were hurt..."

He made a subtle move of his head as if trying to shake his head. "Brewing my potion requests for me; inventing spells to help me walk... You figured out how to make cheese. This is more than just tending to my health."

"I like brewing potions with you. You're amazing – and so brilliant. I'm learning so much from you. The spell... I don't have crutches and didn't know if you'd use them if I managed to conjure them." His thumb absently stroked the side of her wrist. "Like I said before, I'd like to be your friend – if you'd ever let me."

His expression became thoughtful and his eyes momentarily unfocused. He let go of her wrist, laying his hand on his chest. Hermione saw the book she'd been reading to him laying beside him on the bed. "Would you like me to read to you, sir?"

He looked at her with a soft, appraising gaze before he simply said, "Yes."

~o0o~

Day 13

Snape was sitting up in bed when Hermione walked in to change his dressing and again wanted to try to apply the salves himself, although Hermione still had to help him reach the wound on the backside of his neck. Hermione was elated to see that the wound looked as if it was finally beginning to close. She was even more pleased that he was able to move around more easily and able to move his legs to the edge of the bed himself. However, he still needed to lean on her to walk to the table. She was becoming accustomed to walking arm-in-arm with Snape, accommodating his body to her own. In fact, his body fit rather nicely with hers, since her shoulder fit snugly right under his arm when he was standing upright. This slight fact often crossed her mind each time she helped him walk: from the bed to the table, to the potions lab, to the atrium back to the potions lab, and then back to bed to rest before dinner.

They'd spent the most of the morning in the potions lab, spent a few hours in the atrium while she did the laundry and he pruned a few of his plants. By late afternoon Hermione had brewed three more potions and more of the Deep Tissue Regenerative Potion, Anti-Inflammatory Salve and Skin-Regenerative Potion for Snape. She'd insisted that he take another bath before dinner, which resulted in an argument, but to which he finally acquiesced, even letting her wash his hair, albeit reluctantly.

Nevertheless and regardless of his protests, Hermione knew from the soft expression on his face as she worked the shampoo in his hair and massaged his scalp, that he did, in fact, like having his hair washed. She smirked at him when his usual scowl returned when she carefully rinsed his hair, careful to keep the shampoo from getting on his wound or in his eyes.

Arimus screeched from the sitting room just as Hermione was helping Snape back to his bed. "Arimus is back," Snape replied as Hermione helped him sit on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, I know. Right now you're more important; he can wait a moment." She helped lift his legs and waited until he was situated comfortably. Arimus screeched again, twice, and a bit louder.

"He doesn't like waiting, Miss Granger."

"Soo like his owner," she replied back.

Snape frowned in annoyance, saying, "Don't get cheeky with me," as Hermione added, "I know, don't get cheeky," simultaneously.

"Are you okay?" she asked, not really waiting for an answer as she turned to leave. "I'll go get him now."

Arimus was sitting on two packages that had been tied together, waiting for her. He rose to land on her shoulder as soon as Hermione entered the room, screeching as she levitated the packages rather than bending down to retrieve them. The smaller of the two was addressed to Master Severus Snape, from William Egbert Kirkwell, Master of Potions, St. Mungo's Hospital. As she carried Arimus into the kitchen, Hermione noticed a thick letter from Ginny jammed in-between the packages.

"What's that?" he asked as she walked past him to set everything down on the kitchenette table.

Arimus gently lifted from her shoulder and flew over to his perch. "Huh?" She set her care package on the kitchenette table "Which is what?" she asked as she turned to give him his package, examining her letter.

"I asked you, what is that," Snape snapped irritably, pointing at the table.

"I wonder if Crookshanks minds staying at the Weasleys?" she asked as she deposited his package at his side.

Snape scowled at her inattention. "That is not what I asked you."

"I'm sorry, sir. My mind was focused on something else, I didn't mean to be rude," she said. "What did you ask me?"

He bristled but held back any snide remarks. "I asked you to tell me what Arimus brought," he said in almost a saccharine tone as Hermione walked back to the kitchenette table to collect the larger package.

"Which? The package or my letter?" She opened up the care package. The pot roast, onions and carrots inside were still hot, and Hermione decided to slice off some pot roast for dinner before she placed it in the icebox with the collection of fresh vegetables from Mrs. Weasley's garden.

"Don't get cheeky with me, Miss Granger," he growled.

She smiled, noticing that some of the carrot tops looked as if a rabbit had gotten to them. "Arimus had a package for you, one for me and a letter," she said casually, picking up a fresh apple pie from the package and a new loaf of bread.

"The package, Miss Granger. What's in it?" he asked, setting his own package on the opposite side of the bed, unable set it on the dish cupboard next to him.

"All this is stuff from my friends," she said as she magically heated a potato, scored the tender meat and added some herb butter. She set the potato halves on plates next to the pot roast and carrots. "The usual care package from Mrs. Weasley – you know – so that you and I don't starve," she answered as she carried him his dinner.

She opened Ginny's lengthy letter to read while she ate and sat down at the kitchenette table facing Snape.

"What do they say," he finally asked between bites.

"It's from Ginny. She and Harry have agreed to get engaged, but are waiting to have the engagement party for when I can attend. And it looks like Fred will be released from St Mungo's as soon as he learns to walk with his artificial leg. Victoire Weasley, Bill and Fleur's daughter, is teething... Mr. Weasley's been given a promotion at work... Kingsley Shacklebolt's been made Minister of Magic... and... Yes," she said when Snape snorted in derision.

"I wasn't asking you to read the entire letter to me," he said irritably.

"I wasn't," she said, turning back to the kitchen. "I was merely giving you the highlights." He snorted in derision again. "Fine. If you don't care to know..."

"I don't like your cheek," he snapped.

She turned around again, crossing her arms. He was watching her, his eyes dark and scowling. Hermione watched him, trying to deicide what to say that would help improve his mood.

His expression softened slightly. "Fine. Give me the relevant highlights."

She unfolded her letter, scanning the contents to find where she had left off. "Harry and Ron have been accepted into the Auror training program. Oh, the Ministry has consented to allot funds and construction wizards to rebuild Hogwarts. It will reopen and resume classes in three months. Students wishing to finish their education and take either their O.W.L.s or their N.E.W.T.s need only submit their requests to Griselda Marchbanks by the end of the week!" She looked over at Arimus expectantly and he clicked his beak as if to acquiesce to her unspoken request to take a letter to the Ministry official.

"You've missed nearly nine months of school, Miss Granger; surely you aren't considering sending in a request."

"Why not? I missed months petrified during my second year and managed to catch up," she nearly pleaded with him as if he were the one to make the decision to allow her to return to school. "I read all my seventh year books in the tent when we were in hiding, several times, even managed most of the spells, and read half the books in the Grimmuald Place library... I can do many of the advanced Transfiguration Spells, most all of the advanced Charms, figured out half of the Arithmancy equations and formulas... I need practice with my Ancient Runes, and I don't know which plants are N.E.W.T level, but I've read Advanced Herbology and Planting, Maintenance and Management of the Magical Garden twice. If I study really hard, ask for the back assignments and homework and..."

"I suppose you expect me to instruct you," he stated, his eyes narrowing as he watched her intently.

"No, um.... I didn't think that... you would..." She was desperately trying to suppress her hope that his statement was an offer as her eyes flicked from his face to the wall and back. "I – that is if you don't want to..." She was hopeful, smiling, but really didn't expect him to agree. "If you could just tell me what might be expected regarding Potions and Defense... I could always read up... That is if you have books in your library on the subjects that I need."

His expression darkened slightly and she glanced toward the sitting room. "Where are your books?"

She looked at him, then lowered her head, staring at the bedcovers. "They were in the tent, when Ron, Harry and I were caught."

"I suppose you would like to borrow some of my books from my seventh year to memorize," he said derisively.

Her face lit up as if he'd offered her the world and promised to teach her himself. "Oh, would you? Would you really lend them to me? Sir!"

He wiped his face slowly with his hand, making a minute shake of his head. He looked at her, his dark eyes cold and thoughtful as he watched her expectant expression, then made the same subtle shake his head again as if he was about to do something he was really going to regret. "Upstairs, in a blue and white room, is my old school trunk. Above it is a bookshelf with all my old school books – the ones I still have at any rate. If you do not mock me about anything I wrote in the margins, if you will swear to never tell anyone – yes, you may read them. But I swear, Miss Granger, if you break my confidence, I will hunt you down and poison you."

Hermione nodded. "I promise, sir. Of course I'd keep your confidences," she said solemnly.

"Miss Granger, where is my wand," he asked.

"I'm sorry, your wand?" she answered as she pulled the covers up over his legs.

"Yes. What happened to my wand?"

"Nothing happened to it, sir." She stood up and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "It's in the china cupboard, top drawer on the right."

"I want it, please."

It was more of a demand than a request, and Hermione stood with her hands on her hips regarding him a moment. Madam Pomfrey always said we shouldn't do magic until we were well. She'd been insistent. "Are you sure, sir? Using your wand too soon and in a weakened state..."

He glowered at her, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously. "I want my wand, Miss Granger. I am fully aware of my physical state. Nevertheless, I am a grown wizard, and I want my wand," Snape said, impatience making his tone sharp.

"I never intended to take it from you. I kept it here with your clothes... for when you were better," she explained as she walked around the bed. "Are you sure you are well enough?"

"Miss Granger, just hand me my wand," he said in an even, cool tone.

Reining in his impatience rather well, she thought pulling out the elegant black walnut wand. "Just keep in mind that you still need me."

"Need you?" A deep chuckle escaped his throat, although his lip was curled in a scornful sneer. "How could I possibly forget?"

She smiled nervously as she handed him his wand. "All the better to hex me with I suppose."

His mouth stretched into a challenging smile as his fingers grasped the lathe-turned handle. "No, my dear, all the better to teach you with," Snape said as he raised one eyebrow and watched her jaw drop in amazement. "If I'm going to instruct you, I am going to need this. However, do not expect me to treat you with favoritism."

"You? Never," she said, grinning enthusiastically.

Author's notes:

As a creative liberty and for this story, I have assumed that Avery, Mulciber, Rodolphus Lestrange and Bellatrix Black were in Severus's year at Hogwarts. I have also set Rosier and Wilkes a year or two ahead of Severus, and I placed Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black as having been in their fifth year and prefects during Severus's first year (just as Percy was prefect Harry's first year). That would make Bella maybe four and a half years younger than her sister.

I apologize for my rudimentary Latin. Latin words and definitions came from: the Nortre Dame English to Latin site at: http://catholic.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl

I have a great deal of gratitude for Ladyinthecloak and Machshefa for beta reading this for me. You ladies are great and I really appreciated you doing this. Thank you.