Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Unintentional Inveiglement	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 130141 -:- Recommendations : 8 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and it's characters and making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 68
- 69
- 70
A/N: Happy and merry belated everything! I meant to have this up before Christmas... then by my birthday...then before the new year. As we can see, that didn't happen, but at least I managed to churn out the last 3k of this fic last night and edit it to the best of my ability today. Whoohoo!
For those who are still reading and reviewing, bless you. Thank you for your patience. You are an angel and I hope you have nothing but good fortune. For those who forgot what the hell is going on in this story and need to go back to reread... yeah, you're not alone. I do a LOT of going back to reread to make sure everything remains cohesive.
Going to thank you again for your lovely comments and reviews. I will NOT abandon this story (honestly, I love it too much but love doesn't pay the bills so work cuts into my writing time) but reviews do feed the Muse so THANK YOU!
All remaining errors are my own. I think I got them all but I'm sure some are still lingering.
By the way, I saw Cursed Child last October and IT WAS SOOOOOO GOOD! Even better was the fact that I got to meet and see it with longtime friend and one of my favourite writers, Crmedigal! She's a fellow SSHG writer and an amazing artist and you should check out her stories and artwork.
Okay, enough chitchat.
"Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real."
― Cormac McCarthy
Hermione's visits continued throughout the week. She only returned to her room to bathe and change clothes, and was nearly always found sitting beside Severus. For some time it remained that Hermione would be the only person to hear him speak, although Filch soon became one of the chosen few.
One afternoon Hermione had been occupied with being seen by a Healer, and Filch took on the task of helping Severus with lunch. When Severus tightened his lips against the spoon, Filch asked if he should do the aeroplane thing. Severus hoarsely replied with a curt "fuck off", and Filch dropped the spoon.
"So you can speak!" Filch had cackled, using his palm to wipe away a few droplets of gravy that splashed onto his sleeve.
Severus refused to speak another word after that, but he grudgingly allowed Filch to finish assisting with his meal.
A day or two later, it somehow got out that Severus and Hermione were both patients at St. Mungo's which led to a strict lockdown. Only a short list of visitors were permitted, and both Hermione and Severus had to give prior consent for each person. Hermione ended up with a two-Auror detail who remained outside her room around the clock, and she was displeased about this at first until realising they didn't give a damn if she left her room at all hours. There was no small chat or forced politeness, and they merely trailed behind her until she arrived at Severus's room. Two Aurors were also stationed outside his room. Since it was absurd to have four Aurors guarding one room, each pair would take turns with frequent breaks and they'd use the extra time to socialise or nap in some tucked away part of the hospital. It seemed as though this arrangement would have been cause for gossip, but each Auror knew not to spoil a good thing. They were being paid to work an easy shift, and it was preferable to being assigned to the streets.
Whether or not there was gossip among the hospital staff was not known. The chaos, however, that came as a result of magical outbursts by either patient could not be forgotten, and for the sake of maintaining peace the few staff members assigned to Severus and Hermione turned a blind eye to the unconventional companionship. Soon enough Ursulina grew accustomed to finding Hermione asleep beside Severus when she arrived for her morning shift. The first time she caught the pair, Hermione had been flustered and without thinking, shoved herself away from Severus and smacked her back hard against the bed railing.
"Easy, Hermione. You're not in any trouble," Ursulina told her quietly, completely unperturbed. "I hope you didn't hurt yourself but judging from the sound, you might need some bruise paste later. I didn't mean to wake you, I only wanted to check his bandages."
Ursulina's casualness left Hermione somewhat at ease, but the awkward tension remained as she continued pressing herself against the bed rail, trying to give the Mediwitch space to work. Ursulina was swift in her assessment and after scribbling on Severus's chart, she told Hermione she'd return in a few hours. Right before leaving the room she flicked her wand at the bed, causing it to expand. The abrupt abundance of extra space made Hermione topple over, and she had to scramble to keep from falling on her face.
Hermione remained mortified about that whole exchange but as she drifted back to sleep, she had to admit that the newly sized bed was more comfortable.
Also it turned out that Ursulina had been right about the bruise paste, and Hermione felt sheepish as the Mediwitch rubbed it onto the large purple splotch on her lower back later that day.
Cyril, the Healer with the horrible bedside manner, was no longer assigned to Severus. The change was mostly due to Severus causing the man's clipboard to clap him in the back of the head when he was too rough in his examination. Cyril's replacement was a much younger Healer named Ivy. She had bright blue hair, an eccentric yet impeccable bedside manner, and an odd sense of humour. Her jokes often caused Severus to glare at her with displeasure, but he always gave a half-smile once she left the room.
Ivy was a pleasant change but her ideas about patient care were vastly different and updated compared to Cyril's.
With Severus being conscious, Ivy no longer wanted to rely on magic to keep him hydrated and nourished. She wanted him to eat and drink on his own, and soon after to get out of bed and back on his feet. Cyril, stuck in his stodgy ways, thought nothing of telling Ivy that her notions were ridiculous and were going to cause her patient to have a relapse. Ivy said nothing, instead picking up her own clipboard and waving in a vaguely threatening manner. That was enough to make Cyril's face go red, but he left her alone.
Executing these changes was easier said than done. Severus accepted water and milk, sometimes the occasional cup of juice, but for unknown reasons he refused everything else.
"I'm glad you're here," the Mediwitch said to Hermione that Monday afternoon, casting Severus a scornful look. "Maybe you can get him to eat."
Hermione peered around the woman to look at Severus. His face was red and he looked as though he would have hexed the Mediwitch if he had his wand.
He's embarrassed, Hermione thought to herself.
Understandably so, as she knew well how much the man detested needing help from anyone. Severus Snape was the sort who could lose both legs and would sooner drop to the ground and use his hands to pull his way home than ask for assistance. It also didn't help that the Mediwitch was clearly rushing to get through the process of feeding her patient, and Severus resented being treated like a box on a checklist which needed ticking off instead of a person with feelings.
"Good. Thanks so much," the Mediwitch said distractedly as Hermione reached for the tray. "I've got a thousand things to do and we're short-staffed today, but what's new," she finished before making a breezy exit.
Severus seemed relieved when the Mediwitch left the room, yet still didn't look overly thrilled at the prospect of being fed by Hermione, and stubbornly turned his head when she brought the spoon up to his mouth.
Hermione found it difficult to remember everything that happened over the past year, but Severus Snape's obstinate ways was something she would never forget.
She refused to mollycoddle the man, despite knowing that her persistence would only leave him become further brassed off. Severus was willing to starve himself purely out of spite, and that worried Hermione as she knew he would be kept at St. Mungo's unless he showed signs of healing.
Hermione set the spoon down on his tray. She could see Severus watching her from the corner of his eye, but she kept her focus down on his unappetising meal.
It was no wonder he refused to eat: minced meat, pureed carrots, pureed greens, and bland mashed potatoes. The potatoes was the only thing that looked mildly edible, but the rest looked like baby food.
Hermione was nearly brought to tears as she stared down at the plate of mush, remembering why Severus was being forced to eat a meal like so. But she told herself to get it together as this was no time to cry.
After blinking away her tears, Hermione thought of another tactic. She scooped up a generous spoonful of the potatoes and vegetables and put it into her mouth. She'd tried this method while looking after her cousin's baby once, and it worked then. She hoped it would work now.
The idea was to feign delight at the meal but to her dismay, it tasted even worse than it looked. Hermione had never been one who had luck with hiding her emotions, and her phony smile soon turned into a grimace. Severus had continued watching her from the sidelines, and gave her a smug 'told you so' look when she swallowed a mouthful of the poison St. Mungo's insisted was his lunch. The disgust etched across her features made him look her in the eye, and a dry, broken-sounding laugh erupted from his chest.
Hermione was shocked by the sound but soon she too began silently laughing, and this time tears of mirth leaked from her eyes. When they were done, Hermione shook her head while wiping her face on her pyjama sleeve. She gave Severus an apologetic smile but refilled the spoon, this time holding it to his mouth. He pressed his lips together but finally relented, accepting the food with a small shudder.
I'm sorry, Hermione's eyes seemed to say as she scooped up another bit of meat and peas.
Severus was sorry too; sorry that he had to eat this sad excuse of a meal. The colour of everything seemed off, as though the ingredients should have been binned two weeks ago. But he ate everything, mostly for Hermione's sake, and he was ever so grateful for the thickened glass of orange juice the Mediwitch left behind. The texture of the juice was unpalatable but it was still better than tasteless pureed peas.
With the lunch ordeal behind them and the empty tray set aside, Hermione remained perched beside Severus, holding his hand between hers.
"Oh good! You got him to eat!" the Mediwitch exclaimed cheerfully when she popped back in thirty minutes later. "I know it wasn't gourmet by any means, but the Healers want to make sure your throat is properly healed before you attempt any solids. I'll see what I can do about dinner."
Severus shot her a sceptical glance, but the Mediwitch missed it as she was in the middle of collecting the tray and rushing back out the room.
Hours later Filch stopped by, and he was all smiles when the Mediwitch brought in Severus's dinner. Those smiles faded once Hermione lifted the cover off the tray.
"Jesus, is that your supper?" Filch groused as he peered over the contents of Severus's dish. "Well at least there's custard. Hurry up and get out of here, and I'll treat you to the best steak dinner you've ever had."
Severus's dinner was similar to his lunch, and Hermione wondered if he was going to make another fuss. She went to feed him and he jerked his head back, causing her to nearly drop a spoonful of mashed carrots onto his chest. When Hermione gave him a quizzical glance, she saw Severus peer over at Filch before lowering his eyes to his lap.
He was embarrassed to be fed in front of Filch.
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but she understood the dynamics of Severus looking helpless in front of another man. She set down the spoon and watched him attempt to pick it up, only Severus's hands were weak and trembled too much for him to maintain a proper grasp.
"Oh for God's sake, you stubborn arse, will ye drop your pride just for a second," Filch spat, easily sussing the situation. "Yeh've been in that damn bed for the past month and yeh got no strength. No one expected yeh to wake up and be miraculously put together. Now you need to eat to get back your strength so let Hermione help you until you're able to help yourself, or so help me I'll come over there and feed you my damn self."
Both Hermione and Severus's mouths fell open at Filch's rant, but in the end Severus pointedly ignored the older man while allowing Hermione to feed him. The custard was the best part of his meal and Hermione was unable to feed him that fast enough.
"So you liked the pudding, eh," Filch chuckled. "Maybe I can bribe the Mediwitch into giving you seconds."
It turned out Filch was able to wheedle a second custard from the Mediwitch, although much wheedling wasn't needed as she was happy to have her patient willing to eat. Also it was clear that she had her eye on the Hogwarts caretaker.
Severus fell asleep shortly after finishing his second pudding. Hermione remained at his side, fussing with the bedclothes and watching the steady movement of his chest rising and falling.
"He's coming along," Filch murmured. He'd tucked himself into the armchair across from Severus's bed and the lull in the room had caused him to drift off. "I told yeh he'd come along. It'll be hard once you both leave here but you two'll manage."
Hermione frowned at Filch's comment about things being hard once she and Severus left St. Mungo's. All the unanswered what-ifs had never quite left the back of her mind, and it renewed Hermione's anxiety about the future.
Where would she go once she left St. Mungo's? Where would she live?
There was a good chance that Mrs. Weasley would let her stay at the Burrow, but she couldn't stay there forever. Besides, the Burrow had been nice to visit over the summer but unlike Harry, it had never felt like a second home to her. Then there was the fact that it was damnably crowded. Sharing a bedroom with Ginny was fine, but Hermione preferred solitude.
There was another thought at the back of her mind, one Hermione was not ready to admit. She toyed with the idea of staying with Severus for a while, but she knew that was also a short-term solution to a long-term problem. He would likely need help with getting around for a few months or so after leaving St. Mungo's but knowing Severus, he would sooner suffer alone than ask for help.
"He's going to need you just as much as you're going to need him," Filch stated, interrupting Hermione's worrisome thoughts. "He might not admit it, but he does. It's lucky you two have one another."
Filch had an uncanny way of knowing when to say the right thing, and for that Hermione was grateful. His words weren't enough to completely eradicate her worries, but they did remind Hermione that she wasn't alone.
Proof that she had more people who cared about her came an hour after Filch left the hospital. Hermione had taken the seat he'd used, and she was moments away from dozing off when she heard a commotion outside the door.
"Young man, I've been alive long before you were a glint in the milkman's eye and a professor when you were a bairn in nappies. In fact, I was your Head of House and remember when you had snot hanging down to your knees. Aye, Hamish, I remember well; don't let these grey hairs fool you. Now I have zero interest in what Kingsley told you but you can move on your own, or be moved by me. The choice is yours."
The aggravated tone in that Scottish brogue was highly familiar, and it made Hermione hurry across the room and fling open the door.
There stood the flustered Auror, his cheeks quite pink as he tried to avoid the pointed stare from the witch stood across from him.
Dark hair threaded with silver pulled back into a tight bun and square spectacles were the next things Hermione noticed, followed by the collar of tartan plaid robes.
"Miss Granger!" McGonagall exclaimed, tutting at the still-flustered Auror as she rushed past him to tightly hug Hermione in a rare display of affection. "Good heavens, I didn't know what to think before finding out that you were here."
Hermione was unable to remember her Head of House showing her this much warmth. For the most part McGonagall let her Gryffindors know that she cared about them, but it had mostly been a tough love situation. However, these circumstances called for all propriety being thrown out the window, and Hermione found herself hugging the older woman just as tightly.
"Potter told me the floor you were on but he couldn't remember your room number," McGonagall began, standing in the middle of the doorway and ignoring the Auror when he attempted to interrupt. "My plan was to see Severus first and find your room after but I didn't know his room number either. I put two and two together when I saw the Aurors, even though they wouldn't tell me who was inside. I'll hand it to Kingsley–they are well-trained. Hamish here wouldn't say a word."
Hermione peeked over McGonagall's shoulder to see a perplexed expression on Hamish's face, as though he was unsure whether to feel pleased or insulted.
"How are you, dear? Is this your room?"
Hermione shook her head and stepped back, motioning for McGonagall to come inside. Once they were both in Hermione shut the door and led the professor further inside.
"Oh my word," McGonagall said quietly, exhaling audibly as her widened eyes settled upon her former colleague. "Severus is alive. I found it difficult to believe without seeing for myself."
Hermione nodded slowly and began walking toward the bed.
"No, don't wake him," McGonagall urged, holding up a hand. "Let him sleep."
McGonagall's words were unnecessary, because moments later Severus opened his eyes. In an instant, the mood in the room completely changed.
It was an awkward reunion between the former headmaster and current headmistress. Hermione knew nothing of what transpired between Severus and McGonagall during his last days at Hogwarts, but it was plain to see that things were tense. Severus normally had no trouble with staring someone down; now his eyes were oddly avoiding McGonagall's, and his hand flinched ever so slightly when she drew nearer to the bed.
"Hello, Severus. I'm glad you're all right," she told him, maintaining her distance. Only when his hand relaxed did she take a step further, and this time he didn't recoil.
This was no time for a heart to heart, but thankfully McGonagall didn't seem to be in the mood for a heavy chat. Instead she mentioned something about a chill in the air while flicking her wand at Severus's bed, causing a tartan throw to appear across the bottom half of his bed.
McGonagall knew about Severus's distaste for tartan, but the blanket was quite warm. It was either her way of subtly taking the piss, or showing that she still cared about him. Or likely both. The end result was Severus looking annoyed yet pleased.
"I'm going now," McGonagall told Hermione. "I only wanted to pop in for a few minutes. I'm at the school should you need anything. You may send a message with Kingsley or Potter when he comes to see you. I'm sure by now he's filled you in on our visit with Rubeus."
There was a twinkle in McGonagall's eye and Hermione smiled, remembering Harry telling her about their head of house shoving Hagrid's biscuits into her pocket.
"Good night. And Miss Granger, make sure Severus keeps that blanket on his legs."
With that, McGonagall left the room.
Severus flicked at the tartan throw, and Hermione thought he was annoyed but upon closer inspection, she saw the corner of his mouth turned up into a tiny smile.
"Old crone," Severus croaked, leaving Hermione aghast. She continued staring at him with her mouth wide open in shock, and Severus didn't try to hide his amusement that time.
"Morning!" Ivy trilled early the next morning after breakfast. "Does it still hurt to speak? Or are you going to continue deliberately giving me the silent treatment?"
Both, Severus answered inwardly.
There was a lingering pain when he used his voice, but it was his pride that hurt the most.
Besides, the silent treatment was preferable to a prolonged, unpleasant conversation that involved questions about his appetite or bowel movements. He felt utterly using lying in bed day after day, and positively despised being poked and prodded around the clock.
"I want you up and out that bed, Mr. Snape," Ivy announced, setting down her clipboard and withdrawing her wand. "I'll let it slide today, but soon I want you talking—and walking, which we're going to try today. In case you feel like you're going to fall," she explained, conjuring a walker beside the bed. "Don't worry if you're not able to stand or walk for long."
Severus audibly scoffed at the Healer when she pulled back his blankets. It took more effort than he'd anticipated to swing his legs down off the mattress, and there was pain he hadn't expected the moment he clumsily got to his feet, but Ivy was right—he could not stand for long. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and upper lip, but he refused to make a sound even though it felt as though fire were shooting down his legs.
"All right?" Ivy asked, surveying her patient with slight concern.
"You know, Ivy is the perfect name for you," Severus told her through gritted teeth, forgetting about his vow of silence. "The damn vines grow where they like and stick to everything and it's a pain in the arse to get them off. I wonder if your mother knew what she was doing, because you are just as tenacious."
Most people would have been insulted, but Ivy threw her head back and laughed loudly.
"You aren't the first to make that comparison," she confessed, stepping forward to move the walker closer to Severus when he knees buckled. "My dad told me my stubbornness would be my blessing or curse, depending on who you asked. I'll say it did something good; it got me through training to become a Healer."
"You look too bloody young to be a Healer. I taught sixth-years who looked older than you."
"Yeah, I get that too. In fairness, I did graduate earlier than most."
"Yes, so I've heard. With top marks."
"People really do gossip in this hospital, don't they. You'd think they'd be more concerned with their patients but no, they worry about my hair and the fact that I might wear a Weird Sisters shirt beneath my robes. Hey, what're you gonna do. Think you can walk towards me?"
Severus bit down hard on his tongue, using every bit of strength to not cry out. Walking hurt more than just standing still, and even though Ivy was a few steps away from him, it felt as though she were miles away.
The armchair behind Ivy was empty, and Severus found himself grateful that Hermione was not in the room. She would have immediately picked up the fact that he was in agony, and it would have caused her to fret and pull at her hair until she threatened a bald spot.
"All right, that's enough for today," Ivy told Severus when it was clear that he'd had enough. "You may not feel it right away but when the pain kicks in, let us know if it's too much and I'll send a Mediwitch with a pain potion."
A pain potion was the last thing he wanted. It felt as though he'd been incoherent for nearly his entire stay at St. Mungo's, and he had no plans of revisiting that numb feeling again. But when twenty minutes passed and the entire bottom half of his body felt as though it were on fire, he forgot about his plans of not talking to anyone and practically bellowed for someone to get a Healer.
Severus yelling turned out to cause swift results, because a Healer rush into his room with an already uncorked phial filled with lilac liquid.
"Ivy told me to listen out for you.," the Mediwitch told him.
Who the fuck does your brewing? Severus wanted to ask, fighting back the urge to vomit.
"There we are. It won't be long now."
The ill-flavoured potion was quickly forgotten about, because the Mediwitch was barely able to finish her sentence when Severus's surroundings went fuzzy and then black.
Hours later Severus woke to find Hermione next to him, snoring into his shoulder and her fingers loosely weaved into his. He shifted his legs a bit and winced when he felt the ache reassert itself, but halted when there was a hitch in Hermione's breathing.
"Sorry," he rasped when Hermione sat up and blinked sleepily at him. "Didn't mean to wake you. Fucking doctor made me walk and my legs have been on fire ever since."
Immediately Hermione set about lifting the blankets to look at Severus's legs, but he stopped her by placing a hand on her wrist.
"I'm fine now, Hermione. They gave me a pain draught which is why you were able to sneak in here without me knowing."
Hermione visibly relaxed, and she slid her hand into his. As Severus's hand tightened around hers he let out a loud sigh, and it made Hermione panic again.
"I'm not in pain, I'm aggravated." When Hermione gave him a quizzical look, Severus closed his eyes. "I'm tired of this place. I'm tired of staring at this fucking ceiling and tired of choking down the goblin piss they're passing off as potions. I don't know who does their brewing but it's clear they don't know their arse from their elbow when it comes to potion making."
Eerily on cue, the same Mediwitch who administered the pain potion came into the room and asked Severus if he felt better.
"In a manner of speaking, no," he answered brusquely.
"Your Healer said you may have another dose but only once you've had lunch."
"Lucky me," Severus drawled, almost sounding so much like his old self that it made Hermione laugh.
Each morning and evening Ivy visited Severus, explaining that she was keen on him making a full recovery. The morning visits consisted of her watching him walk a bit to assess his gait, and in turn Severus would offer some rude obscenity which always made the young Healer chortle.
"You need a change of scenery," she announced one evening after dinner. " I reckon you hate people so now's a perfect time for a walk."
"Come again?" Severus inquired, trying to figure out where this incredibly unorthodox conversation was headed.
"We have a lovely little garden at the back of the hospital. It's not huge, mind you, but it's a nice place to relax. Patients and their families use it for visits but the garden is closed at five and visiting hours are over at six. It's half past six now and I figure just about all the visitors have gone. Of course your Aurors'll go with you and I'll hang behind just in case."
"Pfft. My Aurors. They're not mine," Severus balked. "Furthermore, in case of what? What can you do that the Aurors cannot?"
"A whole lot more, but we won't get into that. Besides, I need a break. Cyril's on tonight and he's trodding on my last nerve. I wanted to slip poison into his tea but the girls wouldn't let me. At this point I'll settle for a strong Sleeping Draught."
"That man is intolerable," Severus agreed. "I'm surprised no one's tried to poison him already. Just make sure the draught you use isn't fresh. When freshly brewed, the Sophophorous bean leaves a slightly bitter taste. When the draught is a few days old, the Sophophorous isn't so noticeable. I figure with Cyril's height and weight, about five drops will be all you need to ensure a full shift of peace. And if I were you, I'd handle the brewing myself. Whoever is in charge of brewing here clearly failed Potions."
"Aww. Look at us, bonding over a mutual hatred of my colleague. And you're right about the potions; they do work but somehow every single one manages to taste like unwashed arse."
"If this is what you consider bonding, sure. And I won't bother asking what unwashed arse tastes like."
Throughout this entire exchange, Hermione looked completely scandalised as she listened to Ivy and Severus.
"I'm only kidding about poisoning Cyril, Hermione," Ivy laughed, stepping back to wave someone into the room. "Or am I?"
Hermione's eyes remained widened in disbelief as one of the Aurors stepped inside, pushing in a wheelchair.
"I checked it first," the man explained, slapping a hand down on the wheelchair back. "No jinxes, hexes, or curses."
"How thorough of you," Ivy replied slowly, blinking hard a few times. "Thank you." She turned to Severus. "Well here we are, your chariot awaits."
"Fucking hell, I am not getting in that thing," Severus grumbled, crossing both arms across his chest.
"It's either the wheelchair or levitation by my wand—you pick," Ivy told him. "But you are getting out of this room."
"I don't understand why I need to be uprooted. If you're gagging for a fag just slip out for a few."
"I'm not a smoker, but thanks for the advice. Now get up. Oh wait, you need something on your feet."
Once Severus was in the wheelchair, a pair of socks were slipped onto his feet by the Healer herself. "Sticking Charm on the soles so you won't fall—don't look at me like that. No one thinks you're feeble, but this floor is damned slippery. I've gone arse over tits more times than I care to recall," Ivy explained when Severus groused at her. "Right then, shall we?"
The plaid blanket McGonagall left behind was thrown over Severus's legs. He sniffed in annoyance but Ivy ignored her patient that time. Out the door the group went, Ivy leading the way with Hermione pushing the wheelchair, both Aurors flanking behind. Down the corridor, a few turns, a few floors down on the lift and through a set of double doors led to a garden that was almost as Ivy described.
It was true—the garden wasn't all that big but lovely had been an understatement. For a moment, Hermione nearly forgot that she was at St. Mungo's. That first breath of fresh air in weeks had been utterly sweet, but the garden was so charmingly perfect it seemed as though it was the creation of tiny faeries.
"You two go on, I'll be right here," said Ivy, flicking her wand at a long wrought iron bench and causing large cushions to appear along its length. "Ahh, much better," she sighed, propping up her feet after settling down. "Feel free to take your time."
The Aurors looked at the Healer as though she was mad and continued after Severus and Hermione.
"Oi! You two, give them some bloody privacy, will you? There's one way in and out way out of this place and enough protection spells to let us know if a gnome so much as farts. No one's gonna bother them."
One of the Aurors looked as though he wanted to debate the Healer, but the other seemed to not give a damn. He followed Ivy and conjured a cushion on the bench across from her and sank down into it, tipping his head back with a sigh.
"If only I had a coffee, it would make this so much better," the Auror mused aloud.
Ivy had already closed her eyes and looked well on her way to a nap, but she opened one eye and aimed her wand at the Auror's hand, causing a steaming mug to appear.
"A little trick that's dead useful around here," she told him. "But you'll have to conjure your own milk and sugar."
"Black is perfect, thanks."
"That's all right," the other Auror announced cheerfully, sliding over when he saw the coffee. "Mind duplicating that before putting your lips on it?"
"Piss off, you jobsworth. You didn't even want to stop for a break."
"Are you really not going to share your coffee with me?"
"Why the hell should I?"
"Either you share the damn coffee, or I'll take out my wand again and no one'll have coffee," Ivy threatened without opening her eyes. "Your choice."
The second Auror mumbled something under his breath, but he tapped his wand on the untouched coffee and produced a second one, resentfully shoving it at his partner.
While all this went on, Hermione and Severus retreated further into the garden.
"What are the chances of you pushing this wheelchair out the hospital and continuing straight on?" Severus asked when Hermione paused at a blue flower-covered alcove with a wooden bench tucked inside. "Is that a no?" he pressed when she sat down and shot him a disapproving glance.
The blanket over his legs had slid halfway down during the walk and Hermione leaned over him to fix it. He would have complained about being fussed over, but having Hermione fuss over him without anyone else around to witness it was preferable. Besides, he never minded her being close to him.
"I never thought I'd say this about the filthy London air, but for the first time I'm grateful for its stench," Severus murmured after a length of contemplative silence. "That pushy bint was right—it is good to be outside. If you tell her I said so, I'll deny it."
Hermione smiled while toying with the edge of Severus's blanket.
"Didn't think I'd be stuck in hospital for this long but then again, I never expected to be alive at this point."
That made the smile fade from Hermione's face.
"I know, I'm being morbid again. Apologies."
Hermione felt a pang in her chest the moment Severus alluded to being dead. She knew his dark sense of humour was his way of coping with things, but losing him had been one of her biggest fears and she found it difficult to glibly deal with that notion.
"Come back, Hermione. I'm right here."
Severus free a hand from beneath the blanket and placed it upon hers. His touch drew Hermione back to the present. There was a quizzical look on her face and Severus returned it with one of his patented stares which meant he was about to explain something that should have been obvious.
"Your face gives you away every time, but I know what you feel even without you telling me. I feel it as well."
Hermione paused for a moment.
"I think you feel it too, even if you don't realise it all the time."
She slowly realised that Severus was right; while it was true that she felt on edge most of the time which she attributed to being in hospital, the sensation was heightened whenever Severus became upset. When he was calm, she felt calm. In the past few weeks she'd rarely needed a sleeping draught to rest at night, and that was largely due to being able to sleep next to her mate.
Severus gestured for Hermione to come closer, and he pulled her arm into his lap. He then pushed up her sleeve and ran his fingertips along the inside of her right arm.
Runes faintly glowed and faded as Severus moved over her skin. That made Hermione want to reciprocate, and she carefully pushed up his left sleeve and touched the same place on his arm. His Dark Mark was still there, although it was beginning to fade. It was difficult to ignore the grotesque thing, but Hermione easily made her way around it.
"The spell didn't mention it, but I'm certain the runes are only visible to our eyes. So much for me allegedly being the wiser one, agreeing to use a spell without knowing every detail. Good thing these are invisible, because most of these people are thick as porridge but it would have been damn hard to overlook this."
Hermione nodded in agreement. She entwined her fingers through Severus's when his hand slipped into hers and the two sat there in comfortable stillness, enjoying the view of the evening sky. The cool night air and the chirping crickets left the pair drowsy, and Hermione ended up using Severus's bicep as her pillow.
"Are you ready to go back?" Ivy asked some time later through a loud yawn, stretching beside Severus and looking as though she hadn't been ready to end her nap. "I'd stay out longer but my shift is just about over."
The two didn't want to go inside, and Ivy seemed just as disagreeable about returning indoors. Yet the evening had grown considerably cooler and the sky darker.
"Don't worry, this isn't a one-off," Ivy assured as the group walked back toward the lifts. "I'm all for hiding while on duty whenever possible and it's no skin off my teeth to bring you along. In fact, you two make for the perfect getaway excuse."
Just as they were almost to Severus's room, a flurry of messy blond hair and purple pyjamas came whizzing in their direction.
"Ah, my adoring fans! Come all this way for my autograph, no doubt. Form a queue!"
"Fucking hell, this idiot," Severus said under his breath, low enough for only Hermione to hear. " I can't believe you used to fancy that."
Hermione agreed, but she still wanted to give Severus a good thump for the reminder. Instead she tried to duck down behind the wheelchair, hoping Lockhart wouldn't remember her from the night when she and Filch ran into him.
"Gilderoy, what are you doing out your room?" asked Ivy. "And where is Martha?"
"Martha? Who's Martha?"
"Your one-on-one. Lady with the short grey hair and spectacles. Where is she?"
"Apologies, I know not of this Martha. Now who's ready for an autograph? Step right up, don't be shy! There's plenty of... Well there's plenty of me to go around!"
Ivy rolled her eyes while pulling out her wand and producing a clipboard. She thrust that and a Muggle pen in Lockhart's direction.
"What an odd sort of writing device," he mused, turning the Biro round in his hand. "But I suppose it'll do for now."
Severus, Hermione, and both Aurors looked questioningly at Ivy as she took back the pen and clipboard once Lockhart was finished.
"Listen, it's easier to let him sign something than it is to convince him that no one gives a shit about his little scribbles. He's going to forget about it in another three minutes or so anyway, so I just let him have his way," she explained with a shrug.
Seconds later Martha appeared and began apologising profusely.
"Sorry, I went to the loo and I asked Beatrice to mind him but apparently he gave her the slip," she explained. "Come on, Gilderoy, let's go back to your room."
"My room? I have a room here?"
"Yes, Gilderoy."
"Well, that's nice... Say, who's Gilderoy?"
"You fancied him and Dumbledore hired him," Snape remarked as he watched Martha lead her grinning charge down the corridor. "At least you had the excuse of being a dim, besotted youth. The headmaster was well past the age one-hundred. I still don't know what the hell he was thinking."
"Comedic relief purposes, I'm sure," Ivy added, shaking her head. "Even when his mind was intact, I thought the man was a bumbling idiot. Shall we go?"
"When am I going to be discharged?" Severus grilled a few mornings later before Ivy was able to utter 'hello'.
"Well..."
"No bollocksy excuse. Just tell me when I'm going to get out this hellhole."
"Technically I could release you now," Ivy replied. "Your wounds are healed enough to not require round the clock care, and your magic stabilised enough for me to not worry about you causing harm to yourself or others. I won't lie, none of us know if there are going to be any last effects from the venom so I'll need to rely on you to tell me if anything goes wrong. Also there's the issue of you walking. You're not as steady on your feet as I'd hoped."
"Then I'll use a walking stick."
"Erm... I'm not quite sure that'll be enough but I know you don't give a damn about what I think. There is another matter at hand–your Auror detail. The Minister wanted you kept here where you'd be safe. Until we're absolutely sure there's no threat, your Auror detail will remain in place until Kingsley says otherwise."
Severus didn't try to hide his displeasure, and Ivy tried to ignore his scowl.
"Just out of curiosity, do you mind telling me where you planned on returning?"
"Not Hogwarts, if that's what you're implying," Severus offered in a sour tone. "I do own a home."
"Well I should hope so," Ivy replied. "As much as I enjoyed my time at Hogwarts, there was nothing like sleeping in my own bed and bathing in my own tub. But no, I only ask because Kingsley'll need to know where to station the Aurors."
"I don't want any Aurors at my house!"
"Honestly, it isn't as though they'll be sitting at your breakfast table asking you to pass the butter. They'll be in close proximity but I've been assured that your privacy will not be compromised."
"Oh really? And out of curiosity, when were all these decisions made on my behalf?"
"The moment the Minister found out you were alive."
That left Severus at a loss for words and he swallowed hard, carefully contemplating his next sentence.
"Well I suppose it's a better deal than Azkaban. Now what of Miss Granger?"
"She can be released too. We still don't know why she can't speak but we have no grounds to keep her. No Azkaban for her either, and I just assumed she'd go wherever you went," Ivy told him. "That decision is yours, obviously, but she'll also need an Auror detail. Apparently the Minister isn't taking any chances. Smart man, he is. Better than the last few bellends who nearly got us all killed. I still don't understand how they let Umbitch run Hogwarts. May as well have let a wolf guard the sheep."
Severus clenched his molars, thinking back to that school term. He hadn't believed it possible for things to be worse, and then Dolores Umbridge came along and disproved that notion.
"Pretty sure I heard the bitch was tossed into Azkaban. And serve her right. My little sister started Hogwarts the year that evil hag came along and she cried and begged not to be sent back once the Christmas hols were over. I came so close to owling her a box of poisoned chocolates to slip that bitch but my girlfriend begged me not to. I was training to become a Healer at the time and she didn't want me to jeopardise anything."
"Smart girlfriend."
"Yeah, she has her moments," Ivy laughed. "She keeps me grounded. But since we're on the topic of girlfriends, how would you like to handle this—shall I tell Hermione about her Auror detail once she leaves here, or will you?"
"I think it best if I tell her. There are things that need sorting out."
"Right. Well I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you two want to go for our last evening stroll after supper."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, "Severus replied. His tone was wry but Ivy immediately recognised it as teasing.
"Why, Severus, I'm beginning to think you really do like me. Are we going to write one another after you're discharged?"
"Keep hope alive, Ivy."
He could hear Ivy still laughing as she closed his door and walked down the corridor.
"Apparently they're releasing me from this hellhole," Severus told Filch later that afternoon.
Not long after lunchtime, the Aurors knocked on his door to tell Hermione that she had a visitor. It was Harry, the last person Severus wanted to see, and Hermione understood this without being told. Thankfully Potter remained outside, and Hermione smiled when Severus kindly told her to go meet her friend. Shortly after, the Aurors knocked again and Filch entered the room.
"About bloody time," Filch replied. "You're not coming back to the school, are you? It's crawling with those people from the Daily Prophet. What's her face, the blonde bint... Keeter something—"
"Skeeter. Rita Skeeter."
"Yeah, her. She's popped up so often that she and McGonagall had it out. Since word spread about you surviving, she's been gagging for any bit of gossip."
"Great. That's the last thing I need. I suppose I should be flattered in some way; when I was younger I would have given anything for the attention. Now I'm older and know better, and would prefer if everyone left me alone."
"It'll blow over eventually, but I do think it's best if you keep your head down for a bit. And now that I think about it, you'll definitely need to tread carefully. Your personal affairs are the last thing those vultures need to become privy to. If those bastards found out about you and Her—"
"I'm well aware, Argus. Thank you."
"Understood, I'll shut my gob then. I suppose you'll your wand and things. S'all back at the school. I'll bring whatever you want except that damn wand. Last time I tried picking it up I nearly lost a finger."
Severus's lips twitched in suppressed amusement, and he tried to conceal it by lowering his head and fiddling with the blankets.
"I see you laughing, you cheeky bastard. What did you do to that damn wand? I only picked it up to leave it in your dresser. Figured it would be safe there until you came back."
"My wand prefers only my touch."
"Yeah? Does Hermione know that?"
"Fuck off, Filch."
Filch laughed so hard that he didn't hear Severus's question.
"Sorry, lad. What was that?"
"Back on this lad shite, I see. I asked if you locked my door."
"'Course I did," Filch replied, somewhat affronted. "I'm old, not thick. Couldn't secure it with magic obviously, so I put a padlock on the door. Not that it couldn't be opened with magic, but no one's going inside your room. I think everyone knows you'd crawl from your sickbed to hex off their bollocks if they touched your belongings."
"A little fear goes a long way," Snape offered with a tiny smirk. "The ends justify the means."
"Right. Well I assume you'll be needing something to wear when they let you out. Happy to oblige but I don't want to lose a limb when I reach into your closet for a pair of trousers because you've got the damn thing spelled."
After Snape finished laughing, he assured Filch that no spells were on his cupboard and he'd leave the choice of clothing to his discretion.
"Fine. Whenever you find out what day it is you're leaving, let me know. McGonagall will be more than happy to make sure those vultures from the Prophet aren't on school grounds. And good riddance to them too. I've done more mopping with them around, and I've got no idea how those bastards manage to step in mud on a day with no rain."
"You'll be the first to know," Severus replied.
"Have a good visit with your little friend?" Severus asked a few hours later when Hermione returned.
Hermione shot Severus a look that plainly read 'be nice'.
"Does he know I'm here?"
Hermione hesitated, then nodded.
"Did he ask to see me?"
Hermione hesitated again. She and Harry had spent most of their visit drinking butterbeer and putting together a jigsaw puzzle, and he hadn't said much about Severus. He'd asked how he was coming along, and then offhandedly mumbled something about them having a chat in the near future, but Harry hadn't seemed too enthused about the prospect of seeing the professor.
"It's fine, Hermione. It's bound to happen eventually. Besides, it isn't as though a mere conversation with Potter is going to kill me."
She pointedly ignored that comment while toeing off her shoes, and climbed into bed with Severus.
"I expect you're ready to leave this place," he murmured after Hermione finished nestling into his side. "Kingsley believes we need an Auror detail. I'm not sure for how long, likely until the Ministry believes we're no longer a target for any lingering supporters of... You-Know-Who. I'll understand if you wish to stay at the Burrow or elsewhere, but you're more than welcome to stay with me if you like."
He could feel Hermione nodding against him, and he fell silent. Some part of him expected Hermione to decline his offer, believing she would opt to stay with Potter at Grimmauld Place or at the perpetually loud Burrow. He was almost jealous that she had options, which was something he never could have related to. He didn't have many places to seek solace as a child or a young adult. Hogwarts had been a temporary escape, one that was well appreciated when taking into consideration his unhappy home life, and yet he'd always felt out of place.
This was why he was almost jealous of Hermione. Besides loving her too much to ever harbour any sort of ill will, he knew she had her own brand of misery to contend with. Yes, she could have stayed with the Weasleys but Severus knew that while Molly would never deny anyone who needed a place to rest, it was hardly Hermione's first choice. Besides never having a moment alone to think, Hermione was not overly fond of Molly's pushy ways.
And while Severus at least had Spinner's End to return to, Hermione was currently lacking a place to call home. He knew she'd relocated her parents, but he'd never actually found out where they had been relocated to. And with Hermione's current altered mental status, despite it seeming as though she was getting better, there was still a lot she could not remember. He supposed it was painful having both parents in your life one minute, only to have them taken away the next.
His musing was interrupted by a light snore, followed by the quiet thud of Hermione's hand falling to the mattress. She'd been resting with her arm draped across his torso, and her limbs went slack the moment she dozed off.
The scars from Bellatrix's torture had never completely faded, as Severus surmised had been her goal. It would have been beneath the bitch to use a regular knife. Severus was used to Bellatrix's brand of sadism, and knew that she preferred to leave each of her victims tangible reminders of their encounters. When Severus tended to Hermione's wounds had hadn't been surprised to learn that Bellatrix used an enchanted knife that causes injuries which could not be healed.
But the incisions that stood out the most was the crude 'Mudblood' etched into her right arm. Those scars stood out more prominently than the rest, as though Bellatrix had attempted to reach Hermione's bones with her dagger.
Countless times he looked at his own forearm and regretted the Dark Mark marring his skin, but receiving it had been his choice. Severus knew that it didn't matter how many potions or pastes he brewed for Hermione, she likely would be stuck with each scar for the rest of her life. He knew he could never forget the memory of her bloodied body being dumped at his feet, and it pained him to think of Hermione having flashbacks of being tormented whenever she disrobed. There were no full-length mirrors at St. Mungo's, which didn't bother Severus at all. He never gave a damn about his appearance, and the odd times he did check out his reflection it was not for vanity. He did, however, worry about Hermione's reaction once she saw herself, but he had every intention of letting her know she was still perfect in his eyes.
And now you sound like some lovesick schoolboy, Severus told himself.
Deep down, he knew he didn't mind.
Hermione and Severus were discharged from St. Mungo's two days later. There was a great deal of fanfare the morning of their release. Filch came as Severus was finishing breakfast, bearing a pair of trousers, a clean vest and a jumper he hadn't worn since his first year teaching at Hogwarts. The caretaker didn't linger, explaining that he needed to get back to the school. Twenty minutes later and much to his displeasure, Severus was treated to a visit from the Minister of Magic, Ivy, and his previous unpleasant Healer, Cyril, and he refused to utter a single word until the man was sent from the room.
"Arsehole. He's lucky I don't have my wand," Severus muttered petulantly as Kingsley and Ivy fought back their laughter.
"Well you'll have a Healer and a Mediwitch make periodic visits to check on your progress but don't worry, it won't be Cyril," Ivy told him with a grin.
"Oh? And what Healer is going to make room in their schedule to visit this lowly peasant?"
Ivy bowed in mock obsequience. "Ivy Elizabeth Darrow at your service. If you like, you may also choose my accompanying Mediwitch but I did have Ursulina in mind. She seemed to annoy you the least compared to everyone else."
"My, my. If only I'd known about the service and personal attention I'd receive, I might have attempted to dance with death ages ago."
"You know, sometimes it's hard to tell whether you're taking the piss or not," Ivy told him matter-of-factly.
"The mystery keeps things interesting, wouldn't you say?"
"Interesting is an understatement."
Once all banter was momentarily put aside, Ivy went over the list of potions Severus would have to take once he returned home. He balked at the mention of the public apothecary when she mentioned refills, but it pained him to internally admit that any brewing on his own would not take place for some time. Then there was the matter of the ugly hospital-issued walking stick which had been brought in by a Mediwitch. There was no way in hell he wanted to use it, but his legs refused to cooperate with his mind's blatant denial that he was not yet completely steady on his feet. Severus was further aggravated when Ivy refused to let him walk to the Apparation point. He was directed to a wheelchair and gritted his teeth while being pushed down the corridor. While they were waiting for the lifts, he peered up at Hermione and noticed her nervously nibbling on her nails. That made him forget about being petulant, and he patted her arm as if to say 'don't worry'.
Severus felt mildly hypocritical trying to assuage Hermione. It was hard to ignore the trepidation he felt about seeing everyone. Filch had promised that no reporters were at the school, but many of the staff as well as some Ministry officials were around. If not for his lack of a wand, he would have bypassed the trip to Hogwarts and headed straight on to Spinner's End instead. It was hard to guess what sort of reception he would receive from his colleagues, although Severus assumed most of them would spit in his direction. When Filch brought his clothes that morning, he'd picked up on Severus's apprehension upon mention of him leaving St. Mungo's. Filch assured him that everything would be fine, but Severus remained pessimistic. When one always expected something bad to happen, he could never be disappointed when those ideas came to fruition.
Thus, he was shocked speechless when the group Apparated directly into Hogwarts' Great Hall and he found himself being greeted with polite smiles and handshakes.
Severus felt terribly put upon the spot, even more so because he was flanked by a pair of Aurors whilst remaining seated in the wheelchair, and everyone kept bending over and leaning against the chair to talk to him. There was a large, pale blue sack containing potions and phials hanging from one of the wheelchair handles, and every time someone knocked into the wheelchair, the tiny pieces of glass clanked against one another and caused Severus to grit his teeth.
Hermione's arrival was slightly more well received, he noticed, and several of the female staff forgot all propriety and went for a hug. Five minutes of empty chat was all he could stomach, but he was trapped for twenty minutes as people kept approaching him, many of whom he had never met. Beads of perspiration began forming beneath his collar, and he flinched when they began trickling down his back.
Severus glanced over at Hermione, and found that she looked just as uncomfortable. Even if she had been able to speak, she wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgeways as everyone kept talking over one another. He saw her attempting to put some space between them by taking several tiny steps back, and it was all for naught as they continuously stepped forward to close that space.
Please don't leave me here with them, she pleaded with her eyes, immediately seeing Severus when he abruptly excused himself from the group and began rolling himself toward the exit. One of the Aurors remained behind him the entire time, the other rushing to Hermione's side, and he could feel her panic rising. Severus forced to remain neutral, not wanting to arouse any suspicion about their relationship. Thankfully Hagrid made an opportune appearance and seemed to sense Hermione's anxiety, because he immediately shooed everyone away.
"Give the girl some air!" he bellowed from the doorway, his bulky form filling the entire space. When they didn't move right away, Hagrid gestured with one large hand for everyone to step back and clomped his way toward Hermione. "Yeh all righ' Hermione?" he asked gently, standing in a way that prevent anyone from moving between them. "We can take a walk if yeh like. I know Fang'll be pleased ter see yeh."
Severus lingered nearby, not wanting to leave until he knew Hermione was fine. She caught his eye for a second and he gave her a tiny nod. He could feel her anxiety lessen and kept his eyes on Hermione as she took Hagrid's arm and followed him out the Great Hall.
"Where do yeh think yer going?" Hagrid could be heard from the corridor, fussing at one of the Aurors.
"We're not supposed to leave her, sir," the Auror replied nervously.
"No one's going ter bother Hermione, not while I'm here," Hagrid told him, sounding very sure. "Yeh stay here and mind the castle."
At that moment Hermione desperately wished she could speak so she could thank Hagrid. Having two Aurors trailing behind her at every turn was something she'd never get used to, and she'd been uneasy since leaving the hospital. Hagrid's moleskin coat always unnerved her a bit, but right now as she held onto its sleeve, she found it comforting and familiar.
Hagrid chattered excitedly the entire way to his cabin. He didn't call attention to Hermione's mute state, nor did he speak to her as though she was some special case.
As it turned out, Hagrid had been right about Fang—the boarhound was happy to see Hermione, and he greeted her with a loud bark and proceeded to swipe his large tongue across her hands, covering them in slobber. Hagrid chided his dog and apologised while shuffling things about in his cabin, unearthing a rag which he handed Hermione.
"Sorry abou' that," he told Hermione as she began wiping her hands."Doesn't look it but I promise it's clean."
The moment Hermione finished wiping her hands and climbed into one of Hagrid's massive chairs, Fang dropped his head into her lap and began drooling all over her knees.
"Fang! Never mind, I'll sort you out with my wand once he's done. Right, you didn't hear that. Tea?"
Hermione laughed and found that she didn't mind Fang soaking her jeans with slobber. As she ran her fingers through his thick black fur, she felt herself growing calmer and realised that this was the first time in a long time where things felt somewhat normal.
While Hermione enjoyed her tea with Hagrid and Fang, Filch busied himself with helping Severus escape the clutches of more people who wanted to shake his hand and offer platitudes.
"Fucking hell, Argus, you can have whatever you want if you get me out of here," Severus snapped after Filch intervened and wheeled him down to a deserted area of the corridor.
The Aurors dutifully trailed behind and Filch yelled that they didn't need to crawl up the man's arse to protect him. The Aurors were taken aback but Filch ignored them, and turned his back so he could face Severus.
"You don't look so good, lad," Filch told him, frowning as he saw beads of moisture lining Severus's forehead. "Do you need the Healer? Or maybe one of these potions she sent?" Filch patted the sack hanging from the wheelchair.
"No, I just need my wand so I can get the fuck out of this place," Severus replied in a hushed but panicked tone.
"All right, all right. We just have to figure out how to get you downstairs." Filch exhaled hard and turned round to peer at the Aurors, who returned a quizzical glance. "Dobby can get you downstairs. He can Apparate you there."
"Are you implying that I cannot Apparate myself?"
"I'm not answering that. Stay here, I'll find the elf."
Filch hurried in the opposite direction, leaving Severus alone to scowl at an arch that hadn't yet been repaired.
His irritation soon melded into shock as he further inspected the corridor. Nearly all the arches had been destroyed, and beyond that, where the rose garden once stood was now replaced with piles of rubble and mangled rose bushes. He'd never been all that fond of the rose garden; during his time at Hogwarts his classmates used the garden as a place to snog. No girl had ever pulled him in the bushes to steal a kiss, and he'd been slightly bitter about that every time he passed the garden. As an adult, he found a small joy in kicking out the kissing couples by blasting the bushes apart. Now as he stared at the ruined garden, Severus was surprised to feel somewhat dismayed.
Though he was unable to hold back a smirk as he reminisced about Pomona telling him off for destroying her roses. It hadn't mattered that the woman was head of Hufflepuff House, for she used words that were usually reserved for the docks.
The smirk soon left his face as another memory slipped into his mind.
Severus drifted off as the image of Hermione tucked in between the pillars flooded his thoughts. It had been shortly after the school term began, and already he'd been worn out by trailing behind Draco while doing his best to maintain distance between him and Hermione. He'd missing dinner that night and had been on the way to his rooms when he came across Hermione. She'd been alone and was the perfect picture in peace as she stared up at the night sky. The stars were always a beautiful sight, but seeing someone who appreciated them as much as he did made him want to kiss her, and he'd tried to hurry away before Hermione noticed him standing there.
Severus knew how to walk around without being noticed, and he knew that he'd deliberately moved in a way where Hermione would notice him. She'd tumbled out from between the pillars and rushed over to him. He knew she wanted to be kissed but he'd refused. Severus remembered with surprising clarity the way he'd cupped her face, ran his fingers over her cheek and lips, desperately wanting to pull her against him and steal her away to his room. But he had to remind himself that he was still her teacher, and despite the area being absent of students or staff, they were still standing in a Hogwarts corridor.
He'd come precariously close to giving Hermione what she desperately wanted, but the sound of Filch yelling had been the splash of cold water to bring him back to his senses. That night had been one of many where his patience had been stretched thin, and from that day on it only grew thinner.
"Fuck!" Snape roared when Filch and Dobby startled him by appearing at his side with a loud pop. "Did you have to Apparate so closely?!"
"Dobby is sorry, sir," the house-elf apologised. "Dobby is glad to see you, sir. Mr. Filch says the professor needs to go to the dungeons."
"Yes," Severus answered tersely, still reeling from shock.
Without another word, Dobby slipped one hand into Severus's and the other back into Filch's, and Severus heard one of the Aurors yell "Hey! What do you think you're—" before they popped out of view.
The wheelchair clattered loudly when they landed in Severus's sitting room.
"I tried to tidy up some," Filch explained as Severus managed to use a bit of wandless magic to light the candles in his room. "I'm assuming Dobby did the rest."
"Yes, sir, Dobby made everything clean for the professor," the house-elf squeaked, bouncing from one foot to another.
Severus groaned as he pushed himself up from the wheelchair, swearing under his breath when Filch attempted to assist him. The walking stick had been shrunken and shoved into his pocket, and Severus withdrew it and muttered the spell to make it grow to full size.
"Where did you say my wand was?" he asked Filch without turning around, leaning heavily on the walking stick.
"I can get it for you, you know," Filch told him. "No sense in wearing yourself out."
"Just tell me where the damn thing is so I can go."
"All right, calm down. It's in your bedroom, top drawer of your dresser."
Severus grunted his thanks and began the trek toward his bedroom. It still hurt to walk but he hated making a fuss. To top it off, the smell of his room was painfully familiar and brought back memories of his last night standing in the same spot moments before he was sent to die. A dizzying wave of panic gripped him again, and he stumbled and tried to steady himself against the doorframe.
"You all right, lad?"
When Severus didn't answer, Filch rushed over to find the man trembling and gripping the wall so tightly his knuckles were popping out.
"I'll get it, just stay there and try not to fall," Filch told Severus, patting his shoulder while squeezing past him to enter the bedroom, making short work of retrieving the wand.
All hint of colour had left Severus's face, and his jumper was visibly soaked through with sweat. Judging from his hastened breathing, Filch became worried that he was going to pass out.
"All right there, take a deep breath," he urged, grabbing Severus by the arm and yelling for Dobby to bring the wheelchair. "Set yourself down and catch your breath," Filch told Severus, who was too far gone to argue about the wheelchair this time. He collapsed into the seat and let the walking stick fall to the floor.
"Where's my wand, Filch?"
"I've got your wand, it's right here." Filch held up the wand which he'd wrapped in piece of cloth, and pressed it into Severus's shaking hand. "Do you need anything else?"
"I need to go home," Severus told him, panting hard and using his sleeve to swipe away the moisture trickling down his temple. "I can't stay here another minute."
"All right, we'll get you there. Not to worry. Dobby!"
"Yes sir, Mr. Filch?"
"Do you know where the professor lives?"
"No sir."
"I can get us there," Severus replied, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply. "But Dobby'll have to get you back."
"Dobby can do it," the house-elf replied, bending over to pick up the walking stick. It was twice his height but that didn't stop him from twirling it about. "Dobby can brings you back to Hogwarts, sir."
"Erm, you sure about that?" Filch asked Severus, his sparse eyebrows knitted together in concern. "I don't want to get splinted or whatever you lot call it."
"Splinched, and I assure you I won't."
Filch remained dubious, but held onto Severus's wrist anyway. Dobby took Severus's other arm and the three disappeared.
There wasn't much space for a wheelchair inside Severus's sitting room at Spinner's End, and the wheels banged into the small table between the armchair and sofa. Filch lost his balance but managed to fall to the sofa, and Dobby tumbled to the floor.
"Apologies. I did guarantee you wouldn't get splinched, but I said nothing about the landing," Snape pointed out when Filch stood up, groaning while rubbing his hip.
"I think you broke off a piece of your table," Filch pointed out, tilting his head to examine the side. "Yep. S'definitely broken."
"I don't give a damn about that table. All I want to do is get out this sodding wheelchair."
Filch ignored the lingering throb in his hip and moved to help Severus stand up. He also ignored Severus insisting that he didn't need help, but allowed the older man to help him walk to his armchair in front of the unlit hearth. Filch shuffled about and found a small ottoman and pushed it in front of Severus, huffing and puffing as he bent down to arrange his legs atop the thing.
"Now you stay there and relax," Filch ordered. "Didn't those people give you some sort of medicine or tonic for your nerves?"
"Pfft. As if I'd let that snake oil touch my lips."
"Well..." Filch trailed off, digging into his inner pocket and withdrawing a flask. "I've got this. I know you don't do whisky but—"
"Hand it over."
Filch held out the flask, had it snatched out his hand and watched wide-eyed as Severus drained the entire thing.
"Bloody disgusting stuff but at least it works fast," Severus murmured, already growing relaxed. "Damn. I forgot about those damn Aurors at the school. I expect they'll be looking for me. And Hermione's with Hagrid. Shit. I was in such a hurry I didn't think to—"
"We'll take care of all that," Filch interrupted. "We'll get Hermione here and we'll make sure the Aurors are where they need to be. Why don't you rest your eyes while we get everything sorted."
"I don't need to sleep, Filch. I've been unconscious for weeks and then spent the rest of my waking hours strapped to a bed."
"Then examine the insides of your eyelids," Filch snapped. "We won't be gone long. Dobby, light the hearth before we go."
Severus bristled at Filch's sharp tone, but fell silent. Once Dobby finished lighting a fire, he took Filch's hand and the two disappeared with a loud pop.
"Talking to me like I'm a bloody child," Severus muttered to himself. Just then he realised that he was drunk and no longer panicky.
And still wet.
It took a bit of effort to get his jumper off, but he felt comfortable once he stripped down to his vest.
I am not tired, Severus insisted, even as a yawn escaped his lips.
The cool air began drying his damp, sticky skin and the heat from the roaring fire felt good on his back. That combined with the whisky and dark silence of the sitting room left Severus drowsy, and he slumped down in his seat, angled his head in a comfortable position and promptly fell asleep.
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Unintentional Inveiglement