Eighteen

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

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Whether it was the effect of the potion alone or the combined effects of the potion and regular meals, Snape was definitely looking healthier, Hermione decided as Madam Pomfrey completed his comprehensive physical. Perhaps it was simply wishful thinking on her part, but his nerve damage appeared to have lessened. He also looked stronger, as though he'd gained some much-needed weight.

Hermione had to admit, selfishly and guiltily, that it made her feel better about having to resist the urge to gawk at him every time she saw him. Lusting after a man in constant physical pain had been bad enough; lusting after someone so obviously ill and malnourished had made her feel downright vile.

"He's really improving!" Madam Pomfrey murmured to her, clapping a congratulatory hand on her shoulder. "I won't say that it's a miracle or that he's going to be fully healed any time soon, but your potion seems to be demonstrating a definite ability to regenerate damaged nerves."

Hermione knew that this was a tremendous accomplishment in itself. Developing formulations capable of traveling the breadth and complexity of the nervous system to initiate the healing process had always been an exceedingly challenging and difficult dilemma in medicinal potions. She wondered, however, whether the nerve regeneration was simply causing more pain on top of the already unimaginable burden Snape carried every moment of every day.

"But is it lessening his pain?" she asked as Madam Pomfrey completed her notes, shrinking them and handing them over to Hermione. The mediwitch frowned slightly, the deep furrows between her eyebrows increasing.

"I don't know, dear, to tell you the truth. I'd encourage you to ask Severus yourself, but I'm not all that confident that he'll give you an honest response."

Hermione sighed. "He's hardly willing to tell me if he ate breakfast. When we were brewing a few days ago, I asked him if he'd had dinner, and it seemed to really anger him."

Madam Pomfrey again patted her on the shoulder, this time consolingly. "Don't take it personally, dear. Severus tolerates you with far more willingness than I've ever seen him tolerate anyone." Hermione's heart fluttered at this proclamation, but she strove to keep her features dispassionate. "I really mean that," Madam Pomfrey assured her, heading in the direction of her office. Hermione followed reluctantly and was relived to discover, once they'd traversed the length of the infirmary, that Snape had changed swiftly and already absented himself.

The mediwitch bustled about, talking as she organized the clutter on her desk and prepared tea for the two of them. "As a matter of fact, Hermione, I must be honest with you: I'm astonished by how much Severus has opened up to you."

Hermione sipped ferociously at her tea, trying to hide her blushing face.

"When he arrived here, before you came, I asked him if he'd noticed any improvement in his sexual difficulties, and he told me he'd already reported it to you. I confess I was amazed." She sank gratefully into her chair and sighed, sipping at her own cup and pressing her fingertips briefly against her weary eyes. "I'm pleased that he's grown so comfortable with you. I've known...and treated...him for years, and getting information like that out of him has been like pulling teeth, as the Muggle saying goes."

Hermione gritted her own teeth, trying to nod understandingly. She had her suspicions regarding the etiology of Snape's sexual dysfunction. The simple act of thinking about it, however transiently, made her want to break into Azkaban and personally torture every known Death Eater in residence.

Madam Pomfrey was staring into her half-empty teacup pensively. "I remember when I first found out," she said softly. "I thought, for a moment after I told him what I suspected, that he might actually hit me. It was just foolishness on my part, of course...Severus is far too well-bred to even consider hurting a woman...but he just looked so angry and betrayed."

Hermione slowly took a seat across from Madam Pomfrey, heart pounding. She wanted so badly to understand the grittiest details of Snape's past...not so that she could become depressed and dwell on them but so that she could seek to understand, on at least some level, how to get through to him. "Professor Snape is a proud man," she began carefully. "I'm sure he didn't hold it against you. He was probably just..."

"Humiliated." Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I knew that at the time, of course. And I know I did a terrible thing when I announced it in front of both you and Filius, but really..." She trailed off, swallowing hard. "Hermione, I have to tell you"...she laid a hand over Hermione's, and her skin was soft but wrinkled..."I love him like a son. If I could get my hands on the men that did that to him..."

Hermione realized she was crying. Madam Pomfrey was as well, so she didn't bother to wipe away the tears. "Was he... that badly abused?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at her for a long moment, and Hermione feared that she'd gone overboard in broaching so forwardly the subject of Snape's past abuse. "I don't even recall what my notes contain anymore," she finally admitted, exhaling loudly and leaning back in her creaking chair. "I know I put in there that he was raped. I had to figure that out on my own, of course. He lets me examine him, but he won't tell me a damned thing."

"I don't..." Hermione struggled to verbalize how dumbstruck she'd been upon reading about the horrible physical punishments to which her professor had been subjected. "I assumed it was the rape that..."

"No. At least, not entirely. I suppose I wouldn't understand myself, but in truth I think it's more psychological than physical." Refilling her teacup, Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and said, "There's no tasteful way to put it, so I've always avoided mentioning it around him, though more information would have been helpful. I treated the internal damage, of course, and physiologically speaking, he should be more than capable."

Hermione schooled herself not to appear inordinately interested, but in truth she was riveted and horrified. She'd thought predominantly of the unpleasant physical side-effects Snape had undoubtedly suffered, but she'd never considered how he must have felt in the aftermath, other than to imagine that his pride had been dealt a crippling blow.

"It's not just that he's proud," Madam Pomfrey confided, her eyes filled with tears. "He's always been so, so respectful of women...more so than any other boy I ever saw at Hogwarts, let me tell you. And James Potter, well, I loved him like I loved all my charges, but I never did understand what Lily Evans saw in him." She shook her head, her eyes hazy, focused on another decade. "Severus loved her so much... It was obvious to the rest of us...especially Lily, I'm sure...but I don't think he really came to realize it until he was fourteen or fifteen, and by then there was so little chance for them to be friends.

"Lily was a kind girl, of course, but she had a temper on her. She tried to be patient with him, but he'd lose his temper with her so many times... Frustrated, I'm sure, that she couldn't see in him what he saw in her. I think he saw potential there, and she just viewed him as a project to be saved from the Slytherins." Tracing patterns in the cooling surface of her tea with a small silver spoon, Madam Pomfrey smiled wanly. "If she'd been more receptive, his life would have been so different... But after losing her, he was never the same. I know there were a few women, but I don't think he was ever serious about them. Sex is an escape for a lot of men, though,...at least in the physical sense...and I suppose there's a part of Severus that's no different."

Hermione had to admit that she hadn't been prepared for how much it would cut her, hearing that spoken aloud. She'd known he couldn't possibly be inexperienced; though she'd had but rare glimpses of the non-classroom facets of his personality, he was, despite his manners, accomplishments, and preeminent education, still a man, with the same hormones flowing through his veins that the rest of them possessed. And as the teasing witch at the bookstore had proved, he had a sexual magnetism that was far outside the norm but powerful nonetheless. Yet the thought of him touching another woman, even to satisfy the need for a distant, purely physical release, made her feel like she'd been gutted with a blunt knife.

"That was years ago, though," Madam Pomfrey continued. "Probably before he joined up with... well, you know. I know for a fact he never participated in anything with them willingly, not with those women being so... you know," she said again, inarticulately, and shuddered. "Unclean. And I've often thought about encouraging him to visit a well-reputed call girl, as crass as that sounds, just for sheer stress relief, but he always grew very stoic...you know that expression he gets, when he's so furious that he just shuts down...and refused, very politely but very angrily. I know he's proud, but what they did to him scarred him emotionally."

"Maybe with time...?" Hermione suggested hesitantly.

"I sincerely hope so. What he went through would have been traumatic enough for a woman, of course, but men are just... I don't know how to describe it, but I'm sure you know what I mean. I've always wondered if Muggle men are the same. The way they view their masculinity is a fragile thing, and I doubt he's seen himself as being capable of having a healthy and satisfying relationship with a woman for many, many years. I'm no Muggle psychologist, but I've no doubt that, like a lot of male rape victims, he was forced to seriously question the way women would view him and his sexuality if they ever found out." She drained the last of her tea, coughing before saying, "It's such a shame. Of all the men I've known...all the Hogwarts boys, like I said...Severus was always the one I thought would fall most deeply in love. He's not an easy person to get along with, as you know, but he's so loyal in his way, and the way he looks at women...

"He would have treasured Lily Evans, really treasured her. Do you know what I mean? With some men...rare men, I think...you just get that sense that women are more to them than beautiful pieces of art or willing partners to take to bed. They're absolutely taken in by them, so charmed by all those little differences that make a woman a woman. That's Severus, at heart."

Hermione was floored. She was shocked, certainly, to hear Madam Pomfrey, normally the consummate professional, speaking so bluntly; but she was simultaneously entranced by the unexpected insight into her professor's mind. "So few marriages are even reciprocal, let alone that devoted and passionate, but she could have had that with him," Madam Pomfrey murmured regretfully. "Though I suppose you can't fault her for loving whom she did, but there's no doubt in my mind that Severus, if and when he heals and falls in love, will just worship her, like something precious that he wants to admire and protect." She gave Hermione a sad look. "He has that disposition, I think."

Hermione did as well. She wiped at the tears falling down her face and nodded, unable to speak of her absolute, searing need to be that woman.

"You really care for him," Madam Pomfrey said, cocking her head to one side. A probing tone had entered her voice that made Hermione's heart race in whirring alarm.

"Yes," she said, knowing there was little hope of avoiding the point. "I do. He's been wonderful to me and to my friends in his own way, and he's so smart and talented. I think it's a shame he's had his time and health robbed of him when all he's done for years is try to help."

Madam Pomfrey was silent, and Hermione felt as though she was gauging her response for hidden meanings. She suspected something, Hermione was sure...it was probably the only reason she'd been willing to reveal Snape's past in such intimate depth...but it didn't appear that she was going to become any more demanding, at least.

Sure enough, she stood and stretched. "Well, I must commend you on being an unusual young woman, Hermione, and I mean that in the most flattering sense. It's so refreshing to see a student who's bright enough and mature enough to move past his exterior and appreciate him for who he is." She put away their cups, glancing meaningfully at Hermione's bags. "You've the notes to look over for this evening. And I must congratulate you again on that latest batch. He didn't admit it out loud, but I think it's really improved his sleep and his appetite. He's put on just over ten pounds in the past two weeks."

Hermione couldn't prevent her face from lighting up with pleasure. "Really? I thought he looked better. That's wonderful to hear."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, a more modest but nonetheless satisfied smile crossing her own features. "It is indeed. I hardly remember anymore a time when he was truly healthy. He used to be quite strong and even athletic, but of course the stress and pain have been affecting his appetite for years now."

She held the door open for Hermione, giving her a small wave goodbye. "Have a lovely evening, dear. Do let me know if you intend to make any further changes before publishing. Septima's very excited about that paper."

Hermione promised as much, earnestly, before heading to her rooms with a lightness in her steps she hadn't felt in weeks.

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"So what's the evening Snape status?" Ginny asked several hours later as she waltzed into their room and began rummaging through her trunk. Hermione, immersed wholly in Unicorns and the Ancients, looked up with a startled expression before saying hesitantly,

"I really shouldn't keep telling you this stuff, Gin. It's not very professional."

Ginny barked a laugh. "You know I'm not going to tell anyone, Hermione. But if it makes you feel better and more principled, just don't give me the details. He is feeling better though, right? He looks a lot better, like he's been eating more."

"He is," Hermione said, unable to keep the thrill from her voice. "Madam Pomfrey said he's gained ten pounds."

"Thank Merlin. He needed it! Everyone could tell he was really underweight." Ginny stood before the full-length mirror and activated its commentary with a wave of her wand. No longer silenced, the mirror piped up instantly.

"Lovely color with your eyes!" it cried in response to Ginny's dark-red dress.

"Yes," Ginny agreed musingly, "but not with my hair... Green, maybe?"

"Always the perfect color for redheads!" the mirror concurred. Ginny held up a short dress of green silk, and the mirror sputtered out rapturous compliments. Hermione groaned mentally and burrowed deeper into her covers, burying her face in the book. She couldn't understand how Ginny tolerated the stupid things; she'd always muted their fawning chatter, finding them insufferable.

Having settled on her ensemble, Ginny began to remove the plait from her hair, shaking out its beautiful waves. "So what about his other problems? Merlin, Hermione, did you die and get eaten by the bed?" she exclaimed.

Hermione peeked out from under the covers. "Would you shut that stupid, obsequious thing up? What's it saying now?"

Ginny silenced the mirror just before it could complete its ode to her earrings. Pulling on a pair of dangerously high-heeled boots and hauling out her cosmetics, she repeated her question with a salaciously raised eyebrow.

"I can't tell you!" Hermione protested.

"Fine. Can you at least tell me if it's good news or bad news?"

Hermione conceded, "It's good news."

"Thankfully! Now you just need to fatten him up a bit more and he'll be good to go." She grinned at Hermione as she deftly rouged her cheeks and stained her lips berry-red. Hermione was now positive that she was sneaking out of the castle for a rendezvous with Harry. Ginny was very feminine and far more glamorous than she, Hermione, by nature, but even Ginny didn't dress up quite so elaborately to visit female friends for late-night troublemaking.

"We shouldn't talk about him like that," Hermione said firmly, emerging fully from the blankets and propping her book up against her pillow. "It's not respectful."

"I'm not being disrespectful. I'm wishing him good health for your sake. The way you're drooling over him, you'd better hope that he's feeling well enough once something happens to give you a good time."

"What would I know whether it's good or bad? I'm the only virgin left in this castle over fifteen years old." Hermione knew there was some bitterness in her voice, as Ginny grew quiet and said solemnly,

"Don't tell me you're losing your mind and starting to regret that whole thing with Ron. We've been over this."

"Not at all. I simply regret following a man around like a lovesick puppy when I've no idea what he would want from me."

"You'll catch on fast," Ginny assured her, throwing on her warm winter cloak and wrapping her Gryffindor scarf around her neck. "Unless you were planning to make the first move."

"I wouldn't have the courage," Hermione admitted with a shake of her head. She closed her book with a rustle, and Ginny's eyes alighted on its cover.

"What are you reading?"

"Snape recommended it to me. It's about the history of unicorns and how ancient tribes discovered and used their blood and hair for magical purposes."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "I'll never understand your love of history. But Snape recommended it to you?"

Hermione nodded. "We were both at the bookstore in Hogsmeade last Saturday morning, and he pulled it down from the shelf and handed it to me. He said he thought I'd find it 'intriguing.' "

"So he goes to the bookstore there?" Ginny was developing a wicked gleam in her eyes as she leaned against the foot of Hermione's bed. "Such a nice and convenient place for you to run into him. You just happened to show up the same time he did?"

Hermione shot her friend a warning look and breezed past the insinuation. "He seems to like perusing just like I do," she replied, regarding her book thoughtfully, tracing a finger along its slender spine. "I have a feeling he's read it himself. I didn't think much of it at the time...I just figured he meant intriguing as a synonym for interesting...but it really was an apt description because the author keeps belaboring how little we really know about the ancient tribes in Britain and Europe. There's a lot of unanswered questions about their interactions with unicorns."

"Such as?"

"Well, before I went to collect the unicorn blood, someone indicated a book for me to read from the library here. I'm fairly certain it was Snape. Anyway, it mentioned that as a part of courtship, a woman...a maiden...used to give unicorn blood to her betrothed to symbolize her devotion to him, and then he would give her something in return, but that book didn't specify what." Hermione tapped her finger on its cover, saying, "This one states that usually his gift to her was a plant."

"A flowering plant?"

"What else? To symbolize her blossoming womanhood and fertility, and to acknowledge that he views her as sexually desirable."

"How cliché." Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll never understand the male obsession with female virginity. But it doesn't say what kind?"

"No...not thus far, anyway. Apparently it's controversial. Magical historians can't come to an agreement, other than to say that it's probably something very rare and hard to procure. I don't think the authors are going to mention a species."

"Which would mean, in this day and age, something expensive."

"Undoubtedly."

"Well," Ginny said gaily, "as fascinating as it is talking about the courtship rituals of ancient magical tribes, I've got to go. You're not going to sit in here all night and read that, are you? It's Friday night!"

"I can't put it down," Hermione admitted. "It really is intriguing. I wish History of Magic had focused on cultures and traditions that far back. It also mentions..."

"G'night, Hermione," Ginny called with another roll of her eyes, making her escape. Chuckling, Hermione returned to her book. She had a nagging feeling that her curiosity about the mysterious and beautiful plant symbolizing a man's acknowledgment of a girl's maturation into womanhood would remain unfulfilled.