Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Madrigal	By : Rotisserie_Cassowary Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7982 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
I popped back into existence and immediately felt that I was not alone. I whipped out my wand and grunted, “Hominem Revelio.” A bright radiance illuminated the figure of a small girl, sitting wrapped up in her cloak and shivering, waiting just inside the gate. She looked up abruptly, eyes wide, apparently startled out of a doze. “Master Snape!” She smiled, and her white teeth seemed to glow in the moonlight. “Are you ok? You’re still standing, so that’s good right?”
I grunted at her noncommittally, and proceeded to limp up the enormous hill to the castle. “Your leg is hurt, isn’t it? Here, let me help you!” She boldly grabbed my right arm and threw it over her shoulder. Against all reason, I allowed her to do so. I was surprised that she could take all of the weight my body was gratefully exerting.
“Was it the cruciatus?” she inquired, compassion filling her large doe eyes.
“Yes. And I managed to tear my calf muscle. Tonight was actually quite manageable by His usual standards. The convulsions are coming soon though,” I remarked dully.
She picked up her pace, and before I knew it we were wrenching open the enormous castle doors. We crossed the threshold into the Entry Hall and I muttered, “You may go now.”
A crease appeared between her brows, and she crossed her arms. “I’m not going to do that, Sir.”
“Don’t be daft, girl. You’re out after curfew in the company of a grown man wearing Death Eater robes. You’re in over your head. Go. To. Bed,” I growled.
“I need to help you. This happened to you because of ME,” she choked out passionately. Tears welled in her eyes. “I was so STUPID to let Malfoy see me. You’re in pain and it’s all my fault!!” She stomped her foot petulantly. “I’m not letting you stumble down those dungeon stairs by yourself and that’s just all there is to it!”
Telling myself that I simply lacked the energy to argue, I shrugged and nodded once. She confidently wrapped my arm back around her narrow shoulders and set off for the dungeons. Navigating those steep flagstone stairs wasn’t the nearly the ordeal that it usually was. I’d tumbled down those cursed steps more than once when I’d been unable to make it to my quarters before the convulsions began.
A dozen meters down the hallway she suddenly paused. “I just realized I don’t know where your quarters are,” she whispered, a blush beginning spread across her cheeks. I rolled my eyes and proceeded into my lab. I stumbled to the bookshelves lining the back wall, my leg muscles beginning to quake. I sequentially stroked the spines of five books, and the shelf swung smoothly and silently inward. I suddenly pitched forward and Hermione leapt to my side, steadying me. “Come on, Professor. You’re almost there,” she encouraged. I glared at her but said nothing.
I found myself experiencing a strange trepidation about her being in my quarters. I had a lump of anxiety in my throat as she helped me lower myself onto the finely-wrought antique chaise by the fireplace. As soon as the weight left my legs, they flew into spasms. My torn muscle screamed in protest. My hands palsied as I struggled with the intricate frog closures on my robes. I let out a small growl of annoyance.
“Here, Sir, let me help you.” Her small fingers deftly opened the half dozen closures, and she gently pushed the robe from my shoulders. As it pooled on the chaise behind me, I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. I snarled, “That’s quite enough. Go now.” And the little twit just completely ignored me! I tried desperately to keep my thoughts pure as she knelt before me and pulled off my scuffed black dragonskin boots.
“Should I go get a dose of the Magic Carpet Ride for you, sir?” She inquired.
“No. I have a class to teach in five hours. I kind of need to be in my own body for that,” I muttered gruffly.
“Well how about a painkiller potion? Or one to relax your muscles?”
“No, Miss Granger. The Cruciatus Curse resists nearly every type of magical pain management. Surely you’ve gathered as much from the dozens of times I’ve said so in class,” I spat.
She stared at me a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “I’m going to try something here. I have no idea if it’ll work. But hey, think of it as an experiment. You love experiments, after all,” she cheekily remarked. She pointed her wand into the air and cried, “Accio Pill Box!” A few silent minutes passed and then we heard it, an insistent tapping sound on the bookcase door. She wrenched open the door, and the small wooden box alighted in her hand like a rather ungainly bird. She rifled through for it for a second before pulling out two bright orange bottles of muggle plastic. Their contents rattled merrily.
“Here, take two of these now. They’re Percocet left over from when I had my wisdom teeth out this summer. They made me all woozy so I only took like four from the whole prescription.”
I stared at her outstretched hand suspiciously. “You expect me to take muggle medicine?” I asked, more than slightly scandalized.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Honestly, Professor. It works just as well as potions. And it might be able to actually help the Cruciatus pain because it works by physical means, as opposed to magical means.”
I looked at her thoughtfully. Could it be true? Would it really be that simple? “And this stuff is safe? I’m not going to get poisoned because some hapless muggle didn’t know what they were doing?”
She laughed for far longer than I was comfortable with. I was rather embarrassed by the time she stopped long enough to say, “Muggle pills are made in factories, Master Snape. They’re stringently quality-controlled at every level of production. I daresay any muggle medicine is many times safer than a potion made by the average wizard.”
“Now where can I get you a glass of water?” I pointed her towards the door on the west wall of my bedroom. She proceeded into my little kitchenette and returned bearing a small tumbler. “I didn’t know professors had kitchens. I assumed you just ate all your meals in the Great Hall like the students,” she remarked conversationally.
“The other professors don’t have kitchens,” I replied. “I submitted a special request to have one installed. I rather enjoy cooking. When I can find the time.” I shrugged with an air of nonchalance.
She held out the two tiny pills and the glass of water. “I have no way out of this, do I?” I asked crossly.
“Nope,” she grinned at me mischievously.
My legs and armed shuddered every few seconds with aftershocks of pain. “Fine then. Hand it over.” I grimaced and choked slightly as I swallowed the little white discs. “Merlin! That was harder than I’d thought!” I gagged, feeling slightly nauseated.
“Yeah, swallowing pills takes some getting used to. Children’s medicine usually comes in chewable form for that reason. Now these four here are hospital-strength acetaminophen. You’ll take two in the morning when you wake up, and two more with lunch, ok? They won’t make you as loopy as the Percoset, so they’re better for daytime. Now come along, let’s get you into bed.”
I complied, allowing her to help me to my feet. What the hell is wrong with you, Severus? You’re just letting your student boss you around like she’s your fucking mother? You’re letting her tend to you like a helpless baby bird?! Where’s your goddamn pride, man?! a voice in the back of my mind shouted, but I resolutely ignored it. There was just something about Hermione. For once I didn’t feel like I needed to project this impenetrable façade. It was almost a relief for someone to finally know what I went through. For someone to even care that I was in pain. Even though I knew it was simple guilt motivating her actions, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just felt SO DAMNED GOOD to have someone fret over me. You are so fucked up.
By the time we’d completed our slow, laborious journey to the bed, I was already starting to feel strange. She pulled the dark green, richly embroidered comforter and silky black sheets down with one hand as she steadied me with the other. She held my forearm firmly, steadying me, as I lowered myself painfully onto the mattress. My head swam as I rotated to lie down. “Oh fuck,” I muttered, shaking my head blearily. “Am I supposed to be feeling this weird?”
“Well you took it on an empty stomach and you’re completely exhausted, so it’s gonna hit you fast. Don’t fight it or you’re liable to start hallucinating. Just sleep, Sir,” she whispered with something rather like affection in her voice. “Goodnight, Professor.”
My lips moved of their own accord, “Stay. Just for a minute.” What the hell?! Why would you say that?!
She smiled down at me. “Of course, Sir. I’ll wait until you’re sleeping.”
I swiftly drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber. I found out much later that she didn’t actually stay until I fell asleep. She sat right there on the chaise, watching over me like my own personal guardian angel, until she finally drifted to sleep as well. She didn’t sneak out of my quarters until nearly breakfast-time.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Madrigal