Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I only wanted to play with Severus for a while.

A/N: I would be remiss if I did not extend multitudes of thanks and praise to my two wonderful betas Lariope and Ladyinthecloak. It is their skill that makes my humble efforts readable.

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Why could life not be simple?

Yanking her hand through her hair, she tried again, "Harry, you have to understand I need to be able to study." Pacing, she continued, "My parents' house is perfect, I can set up a lab for experimenting."

"You could do that here," Harry interrupted, "I just don't want you to be alone there."

Hermione hugged Harry. "I love you for the offer, I really do, but this is for the best."

"Is it because of Ron?" he queried

Well, that is as good of an excuse as any, thought Hermione. "Harry, you know that things have been tense. I don't want to lose you or Ron as friends. Let's just give this a try, at least until things get back to normal. Okay?" Hermione said with a shaky smile.

Lying to her best friends was not what she wanted to do, but she really had no choice. Telling them the truth just was not possible, at least not yet.

Monday morning, Hermione found herself in Diagon Alley with a shopping list that filled two feet of parchment. Cauldrons and potions ingredients weren't the half of it. Her parents' home had not been lived in for over a year. Basic household supplies had to be purchased. First stop: Flourish and Blott's.

Even being a witch, able to shrink down purchases, Hermione felt weighted down when she returned home. She shuddered to think how many Galleons she had spent. Maybe some items weren't absolutely necessary, but the new edition of Hogwarts: a History would surely become a collector's item.

It was late into the night by the time Hermione crawled between the crisp new sheets of her childhood bed and drifted off to sleep. All was ready. Hopefully, she would be as well.

Hermione was on her second cup of tea and just finishing the Daily Prophet when the wards alerted her that someone was Apparating into the back garden. Moments later, she was admitting both Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbldore into the kitchen. It still felt rather surreal to be conversing with two men she had thought were dead. "Professor, Headmaster, please take a seat. Would you care for some tea?" Hermione offered tentatively.

"Splendid, splendid," replied Dumbledore with a twinkle, "and you must call me Albus."

Smiling, Hermione poured the tea. "And you must call me Hermione." She held the pot over the cup in front of Professor Snape. With a subtle nod and a quirk of his brow, he accepted her offer of tea. It seemed polite conversation was still not a strong suit of the professor's.

Hermione began to babble under his daunting stare, "I have a basement that can be converted into a Potions lab and I thought you, Headmaster, could take my parents' room. Oh and there is another room..."

"Enough," interrupted Professor Snape. "We are not here for a bloody slumber party! Did you get the ingredients I requested? We haven't much time before the full moon."

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"You want me to what?" shrieked Hermione.

Professor Snape and Hermione had gone down to the basement after making sure that Albus was comfortable on the upper level of the house. He really did look quite tired and even ill.

"Miss Granger, I am quite sure there is no need for me to repeat myself," Professor Snape stated flatly. "Listening and comprehension have never been your weaknesses."

Was that just a compliment? Coupled with his request, Hermione mused, it had to be. But in six years as his pupil she had never heard him compliment anyone. Even the praise offered his Slytherins could always be found to carry an insult. Yet now, Professor Snape was asking her to brew the base of the Wolfsbane Potion.

"I do not understand; you have never held any respect for my abilities in the past," Hermione puzzled. "Why would you want me to brew such a temperamental base?"

Professor Snape responded by conjuring a Patronus to send a message and gripping Hermione by her arm, Disapparating from the workroom.

When she had gained her balance, Hermione whirled on him, furious. "Look, I am getting really tired of you just popping me around at your convenience!" Drawing a breath to continue, she stopped when she saw Professor Snape sitting on a worn settee holding his head in his hands. He looked so dejected and her heart stilled.

"Professor Snape," called Hermione softly as she crossed the room. When he did not respond, she reached out her hand, gently touching his shoulder. "Severus? What is it? Would you please talk to me?"

Startled by the touch, Severus looked up into her warm brown eyes, his own shattered. "It appears that you do not understand, Miss Granger; this is my fault," Snape responded, without acknowledging that she had used his given name. "He is dying. If Albus had not left the safe house to ensure my survival, none of this would be necessary."

"You mustn't think like that. The Headmaster would never have sacrificed your life if it could be prevented," she vehemently replied.

"Nonetheless he is dying. No one afflicted has ever lived to his advanced age," Severus stated. "Each month, he grows weaker. I do not know how much longer he can survive."

Since the end of the Golden Trio's sixth year, Severus Snape had been reviled for the death of his friend and mentor. What no one knew was that he was innocent, quite simply because the Headmaster lived hidden in a safe house under the Fidelius Charm. Professor Dumbledore lived on, secretly engineering the fall of the Dark Lord. The only one who knew was Severus Snape. After Draco had, thankfully, failed in the task set him by Lord Voldemort, everything had snowballed.

If it had not been for the Unbreakable Vow that Narcissa begged for, Tom Riddle might still have been alive or worse, and the Wizarding World would be ruled in darkness. Dumbledore's supposed death had given Harry the focus he needed to fulfill the thrice-damned Prophecy.

It had taken months of planning. Severus had managed to cure the Headmaster of the curse, inflicted by the ring, over the Christmas Holidays that year. After, Headmaster Dumbledore had used a modified Glamour to make his hand appear blackened and dead as well as making it seem like he was weakening. In truth, he was as hale and healthy as Boy Wonder himself. Then, there was the actual Killing Curse. Not knowing who would actually bear witness to the act, it had to look convincing. Though all heard Avada Kedavra, the spell was actually a nonverbal levitation charm with a bit of foolish wand waving for color and effect. It was a true testament of the stupidity of most of the Death Eaters that no questions were asked. In all of the times that Severus had truly cast the Killing Curse, he had never once seen it levitate a person over a railing, especially when the victim was slumped against the wall. They had not considered the complication of the poison that had hidden the locket. In fact, Albus had almost died that night by Severus' hand as he was the one to have brewed the poison.

What the Dark Lord did not know was that for every vile concoction Snape was forced to create, there was an antidote hidden at Spinner's End. After Snape had levitated the Headmaster over the railing, Fawkes had come to the rescue, transporting the Headmaster to safety. What Hagrid had carried to that marble tomb was one of Fawkes' feathers that Dumbledore himself had transfigured into his own lifeless body. And now he would surely die.

There was no magical antidote to be retrieved. Severus needed to find a cure, but he reluctantly admitted he could not do it alone. Potter may have cleared his name--how he hated owing another Potter--but a dead man did not go shopping for ingredients, and he needed his research notes. He did not have time to recreate years of testing and experimentation. He knew that he was close. He just hoped that he could find the answers before Albus really did die.

After Professor Snape's pronouncement of not knowing how long the Headmaster would live, he seemed to drift off into his own thoughts and memories – still sitting with his head in his hands, as if the weight of his thoughts made his head too heavy for his neck to support.

Hermione did not want to disturb what she felt must be troubling thoughts, so she did what came naturally, what her own parents had done when she felt the weight of the world. She had not moved her hand from the professor's shoulder when he had spoken, so she maintained the contact and gently seated herself on the settee. As he continued to be lost in thought, she softly began slowly rubbing her hand across his shoulders. Hermione could feel the tension that he radiated throughout his body. Is it any wonder his facial expression always seems to reflect pain? she mused. He probably has a permanent headache.

Always starved for knowledge, Hermione had studied massage between her fifth and sixth years. She firmly believed in that the human touch had healing powers that most never consciously discovered. Careful not to change rhythm or lose contact with Severus, Hermione repositioned herself so that she was mostly behind the professor, who was sitting to the front edge of the cushion. She then, gently at first, began massaging the tension in his shoulders. When he did not startle or jump, she continued with increased pressure. Slowly, she worked the knots from his shoulders and neck. After about thirty minutes, Hermione, who had been lost in her own thoughts, found Severus staring up at her as his head rested against her upper chest and shoulder while she massaged his temples.

The strain had vanished from his face, and he looked younger than she had ever seen him with his face void of tension. With a guilty half smile, her hands stilled. Bewildered, Severus again sat forward as Hermione removed herself from behind him. As he continued to watch her every movement, Hermione hastened to apologize, "Professor, I am so sorry, I had no right..."

"Miss Granger, if anyone should apologize, it is I."

"Not at all," she stated. "I am the one who invaded your personal space."

"That is true, but I believe I am the one who was using you for a pillow," he stated.

At that pronouncement they both paused, looking at each other with shocked expressions. A faint blush heightened the coloring in both faces as eyes averted to safer scenery, neither wanting to know what the other was thinking.

Finally, Professor Snape broke the awkward silence. "Miss Granger, I am sure that you have an understanding of what we are up against. As I stated before, I need your assistance if we are to succeed. The Wolfsbane must be brewed, Albus will need tending and a cure must be found. Are you willing to help?"

"Yes, of course I am," she replied. "Where are we, may I ask?"

"This is Spinner's End, my family home; I have some supplies in my lab I must retrieve." With this, he exited behind a bookcase and left Hermione to her own devices.

She wandered about, looking at a room full of books. It was a testament to how distracted she had been that she had not even noticed the bookcases until Professor Snape had opened the passage way behind them. What had she been thinking? Massaging the most unapproachable professor in her Hogwarts career? But he hadn't seemed unapproachable then, and he really hadn't seemed to even object. If anything, he had melted into her touch.

Severus was castigating himself. How could he have let his guard down like that? Anyone could have walked into the house and killed them both before he could have reached his wand. But for the first time in days...no, to be honest, months...he was headache free. Her touch had been so soothing. He could not remember the last time anyone had voluntarily touched him, much less out of kindness. He had to remember that kindness was all it was. After all, this is the girl who tried to free all the house-elves at Hogwarts. She probably pitied him. With that thought, a knot lodged in his stomach. Severus could not abide being pitied.

It was once again a foul-tempered Professor Snape who returned to the sitting room.

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