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Nurse Granger	By : Sammy Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 12285 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters; I'm not making any sort of money/compensation from this work.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
* I'll writing this story directly onto AFF, since I'm both too lazy to copy and paste/edit from elsewhere and too distrusting of my ancient computer not to die and destroy my work (and I can't be doing with memory sticks).
* It's going to be a HG/SS fic with a dom!Hermione and a reluctant (at first) sub!Snape, involving a lot of medical kink and other things (although nothing too messy, since I do have some boundaries). I mainly just enjoy seeing Snape embarrassed and controlled, since he's such a repressed, stoic figure in the films and I like to ruin him. Feel free to suggest specific things.
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Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater, ex-spy, both famous and infamous war veteran, had managed to survive years of poisoning, torture and extreme stress at the hands of Voldemort, and additional years of exploding cauldrons at the hands of idiot students. Yet his downfall had finally come as a result of an item from a certain well known joke shop. The effects of the tiny dark chocolate easter egg that had been left on his desk two weeks prior had been comparatively benign considering everything he had endured over the years. But the dose of anti-diarrhea potion it contained had been enough to push the cumulative physical effects of the last decade or so out of the realm of 'annoying yet managable' and over into 'danger' territory. After managing to dodge Poppy and every other healer for most of his adult life, his body had finally decided to rebel and shut down entirely, leaving him little choice.
Snape groaned as the last student exited the potions classroom and the door shut with a creak. He warded the door with a flick of his hand and leaned back against the wooden chair, nursing his huge belly. He'd tried yet again that morning to go to the toilet. Then again at lunchtime. The same as he had every bloody day for the last fortnight. It was supposed to be a basic biological function that required no real thought to carry out. Yet his body suddenly seemed incapable of doing so.
He really didn't need this right on top of exam week. He had extra revision classes and additional exam preparation on top of his regular marking and lessons. Plus all the private work he'd taken on brewing for St Mungos in the hope of finally saving up for a better place than that delipidated shack he'd inherited. He was no longer running about to dark rallies, which was a definite bonus. But his actual workload had increased. The last thing he needed was his body giving up on him!
Snape had already taken every potion and muggle medication he could get his hands on, as well going great lengths to add more fibre to his diet, which had done nothing except add nausea and horrific gas to his now growing list of concerns. The muggle laxatives he'd managed to find in an out-of-the way chemist had intensified the cramps enough that his already pitiful sleeping patterns had turned into almost constant insomnia. Snape dropped his forehead onto the desk surface and let out a long irritated sigh. It was his own damn fault. He'd self-medicated for so long that of course he'd developed an immunity to most treatments. It had been inevitable really. He'd just avoided thinking about it while he'd been busy trying to stay alive. Why worry about trivialities like that when facing a sadistic maniac day in day out? But now his complacence had caught up with him.
He knew he'd have to finally give in and visit a healer. He'd known when the symptoms first started, but had tried everything he could think of to avoid it. Merlin, he hated visiting healers; being scrutinised and prodded and poked like a damn voodoo doll. The few times he'd been forced to see anyone (which was thankfully a very rare occurance) they had tutted and scrawled page upon page of notes and taken so many vials of blood, saliva swabs and other things that he'd felt ten times worse when he'd left than when he'd walked in. He didn't need lecturing on his unhealthy lifestyle. He knew he drank too much. He knew he used pain potions far too often. He knew his diet was awful. He knew he had a list of medical conditions longer than the ingredients list for the most complicated potions. He lived with himself every day. He didn't need reprimanding like a bloody child!
And Poppy was the worst. Snape was secretly pleased with his fairly impressive record of avoiding her clutches over the last three decades. He'd done well to get out of the apparently 'mandatory' annual health checks for staff that she insisted on. After threatening to hex her five years in a row, the mediwitch had finally got the message and hadn't bothered him since. She was nice enough as a person, but her overly fussy and smothering nature put his teeth on edge. And she seemed to take great delight in trying to embarrass him at every staff meeting with overly personal questions about things she had no right to know!

But finding a private healer would be a difficult task. Now that his name was so widely known in wizarding society, there was financial incentive for anyone who had interesting information to share. Trying to find a medic that would refrain from asking other questions or refrain from passing on details to the press was going to be difficult. Everyone had a price, even healers apparently sworn to patient confidentiality, and the papers were willing to meet any price given. He felt sick at the thought of the Daily Prophet publishing gossip about his embarrassing medical conditions. Unlike most of those made famous for their war efforts, Snape knew the public still held a very mixed opinion of him. No reporter would pass up the chance to reveal his secrets, if only to placate those who still wanted him imprisoned.
He hauled himself out of the chair with a groan and wearily moved about the room, tidying up the mess from the previous class of fourth years. He left the stacked cauldrons by the sink for the next unlucky detention victim, before making his way into his quarters to begin his search.
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Friday afternoon had ended much like the morning had started; with the now agonising pain in his guts, a thumping headache, nausea, embarrassingly loud gas that had required constant trips to his private office under the guise of fetching a textbook or some forgotten ingredient, and a stomach that was now so swollen that from the right angle he could easily be mistaken for a very pregnant woman! His already frayed temper had grown worse throughout the day and he wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend drunk out of his mind on Firewhisky.
Snape growled at the now empty room and collapsed into the chair. He pulled a small bottle out of his desk drawer and unscrewed the top, transfiguring a spare quill into a glass and grinning at the certain look on Minerva's face if she knew he had in fact mastered at least one spell from her years of teaching. He'd never quite got the hang of transfiguration. He had a short range of key spells that he'd practiced enough for show, enough to ace his exams as a student and enough to fool anyone who wasn't a transfigurations expert, but his general apptitude for that particular area of magic was fairly abysmal if asked to do anything outside of that. Fortunately no one other than Minerva was aware of the fact. It wasn't something that he required much for potions work and Voldemort had others who would do any complicated transfiguration tasks if needed. But the quill-glass spell was certainly a useful one. He filled the newly formed glass with whisky and knocked back the contents in one gulp.
His mission to find a suitable private healer had been ultimately unsuccessful. By Wednesday evening, after extensively searching through every directory and contact list he could get his hands on, he'd managed to find just one medic that he hadn't sold potions to, that hadn't been in the country long enough to have heard his name, and that he was fairly certain was wealthy enough not to easily accept bribery from reporters. Just one! He had immediately owled Medic DeLaney with details of his problem and a request to set up an appointment as soon as humanly possible. Preferably before his intestines ruptured! He had felt a bit odd using his mother's name (just on the off chance that his owl was intercepted), but had gone to bed that night with a sense of hope that finally he would get some relief!
Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out that way. Of course it hadn't. His life was clear proof that fate took great delight in kicking him whenever he was down. Only a day later he had received a response from DeLaney's secretary apologising for the lack of available appointments for the next nine days!
Snape swore and doubled over as another intense pain sliced through his guts. He couldn't wait another nine days. He had to monitor exams next week and he wouldn't be able to just get up and walk out every ten minutes!
He groaned and knocked back another glass of whisky for added courage. It was no good. He would have to speak to Poppy!
He took one more look around his classroom, as if a cure might suddenly appear out of thin air (it was a magic castle after all, so he could always hope). Finding nothing, he steeled his nerves and began the trek towards the medical wing. It was coming up for dinner time, so with any luck the place would be empty of any students. He had no idea how he was going to manage to admit his problem to Poppy, but there was no way in hell he was prepared for anyone else to overhear!
As Snape neared the entrance to the medical wing, he felt his throat tighten. Perhaps he should have had one more glass of whisky before venturing up there. The alcohol didn't seem to have done much to calm his nerves. Merlin! Why did it have to be that part of his body that decided to quit working? Why couldn't his bones have disintegrated or his muscles atrophied or any one of the myriad other possible medical ailments that wouldn't have been quite so mortifying to try to explain? Why did it have to be something so... personal? He prayed the mediwitch would just accept his stuttered explanation, shove some cure in his hands and let him retreat back to his private quarters without another word. Although that was unlikely given her past record of deliberately trying to make him squirm. God, the woman was probably going to make this even worse for him out of spite!
He paused by the entrance, leaning back against an old painting that was currently an empty field. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps he should go back and think of another solution. Could he wait another nine days and just hang on to see DeLaney? Another sharp stabbing in his guts answered that question immediately and he stared up at the doors with a sense of immense dread.
Okay. He could do this, Snape told himself. He had dealt with the Dark Lord. He could deal with Madame Pomfrey! The wizard took a deep breath and walked through.
The medical wing was blessedly empty as he entered. A quick scan of the room told him he would at least be safe from any evesdropping students. Some small mercy! He would rather quit teaching and relocate abroad than give the entire school another reason to laugh behind his back. Poppy wasn't in the main room and the storecupboard was closed. That only left the medical office. Snape prepared himself for the indignity that he knew would follow and hesitantly ventured through the small door.
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Hermione was slightly startled by the sudden interruption. The last patient had left almost an hour ago and she had relaxed into one of the chairs to sort through the medical files Poppy had left her to organise. She had spent the day dealing with several grazed limbs, a bloody nose, two third year boys who had given each other a black eye and split lip, a few cuts requiring nothing more than a plaster and chocolate, a broken arm, and a number of requests for PMS related pain treatment. Friday was always the busiest day of the week and as a medical apprentice nearing the end of her two year assignment, Poppy regularly left her to cover duties by herself at weekends while the nearly retired mediwitch went off to attend some lecture or event at St Mungos. Hermione had been happy to finally be off her feet when the rather flushed face of a familiar black-clad wizard appeared in the doorway.
She looked up at her ex potions professor in surprise. He was peering down at her in equal disbelief. He clearly hadn't expected to see her there.
'Can I help, professor?' She smiled.
'I...' He swallowed, forcing his expression into one of nonchalence. 'I was looking for Madame Pomfrey.'
'Oh, she's left for the weekend. She had a lecture at St Mungos. There's no quidditch matches or any other potentially dangerous events on, so she left me to cover until Monday.' She smiled again, albeit this time with a mixture of confusion. 'I don't believe the supplies are running low. We seemed to be fairly up to date with everything when I checked earlier.'
The man looked around the room, tapping his fingers distractedly on the door frame.
'Indeed.' He awkwardly brushed a strand of dark hair out of his face, and Hermione caught the flicker of disappointment before he schooled his expression back to its usual air of indifference. She glanced further down his frame, her eyes focusing on his middle where the man kept his hand. He looked as though he were in pain.
'Is everything alright?'
'Fine. I'll... return on Monday.' Snape turned and made to walk out.
'Professor? I'm quite capable of assisting if something is wrong.'
'I do not require help from you, Miss Granger.' He snapped, reaching to open the door. It didn't budge.
He tried it again, pushing harder on the door handle. Nothing. He spun around, glaring at her accusingly.
'Open the door this instance!'
'I haven't done anything.' Hermione frowned, getting up and sweeping past him to try the door herself. It didn't move. After several attempts she gave up, a puzzled expression on her face.
'Well?' Snape barked impatiently.
'It isn't me. Poppy has specific wards set on the doors to prevent outbreaks or escaping students or a number of other things.' She frowned. 'Although I'm not sure why they've shut now. You don't have anything contagious, do you?'
She examined him more closely. The man hadn't changed all that much physically since the war ended. He'd looked like death then and he looked like death now. At least he was consistent! His temper had only escalated since the trial though, which made little sense. Hermione wasn't aware of all the details, having only been asked to give evidence on a select few cases. But Harry had relayed the basics to her after it ended. After surviving Nagini and waking up in St Mungos, Snape had been dragged to Azkaban for a few months to await the verdict, held in solitary confinement as the Ministry made their way through the long list of other war criminals before him. They hadn't even bothered to publicly interview him, as there had been enough evidence from everything Dumbledore had left behind. The old wizard had apparently planned ahead. Snape had been cleared of enough of the charges to ensure he received a 'not guilty enough' sentence and had been released back into society a month later, albeit with a list of 'conditions'. Although Harry hadn't elaborted on what those conditions were. To all intents and purposes Snape was considered a free man, so in theory he should have been happy to get his life back. Yet since returning to Hogwarts, Hermione had watched him mope about, snapping at students and colleagues alike, with an even worse temper than before. There was no pleasing the man!
Snape glared at her suggestion.
'I have no such thing!' He growled. 'Now open the damn door or I'll...'
'Professor, I have no control over the wards. I doubt Poppy expected anything to happen that would activate them or she would have given me the spells.' She sighed, willing the man to calm down. Why was he acting so unhinged? And why was he in the medical wing on a Friday evening anyway? She'd never seen Snape venture in there once the entire time she'd been an apprentice. He avoided the medical wing like the plague, usually sending house elves or students to fetch the inventory list whenever Poppy needed the potion supplies topping up.
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, clutching his middle even tighter.
'You know where she is. Contact her. Quickly!'
Hermione nodded and marched towards the far end of the office, where a small fireplace stood. She threw in a handful of floo dust and called Poppy's name, waiting patiently.
It took a while before there was any response. Then a slightly merry looking face appeared in the flames, accompanied by the background noise of a chattering crowd.
'Hermione? What's wrong, dear? I thought it would be quiet!'
'Poppy, open the wards!' Snape interrupted, close enough to make Hermione jump. The mediwitch turned her head in surprise.
'Severus? What are you doing in there? I don't think we need any supplies right now. I would have thought...'
'Your wards have locked me in and apparently you are the only one who can remove them!' He ran his hands though his hair, looking more unravelled by the second.
'Well, they don't just lock for no reason. You've clearly triggered something.' Poppy frowned at the man, seemingly unfazed by his temper. 'Why are you in the hospital wing on a Friday evening?'
'Damn it, Poppy! Just open the bloody doors! I don't have time for this!'
'Then answer the question. Even if I return, it would take a while to remove every single ward. If I know which one you triggered then...'
Snape hit the wall with his hand and cursed.
'Severus, will you calm down! That isn't helping!' Poppy reprimanded. 'Simply tell me why you're here and I can fix this.'
'Not in front of the girl!' He had turned his back to them, arms crossed, but Hermione could sense the discomfort in his voice. The man was clearly embarrassed.
'Hermione can't very well leave, can she? Besides, she's been working with me for two years now and had medical experience before that. I very much doubt she will mind whatever it is you have to say, will you my dear?' She turned to face her younger charge.
'Of course not.' Hermione shook her head, now more concerned than anything. Seven years ago the man would have terrified her, but since the war ended nothing seemed to bother her as much. After facing a horde of dark wizards and their insane leader, the risk of being hexed by a teacher seemed relatively mundane.
Snape rubbed a hand over his eyes.
'No!' His tone was final.
'Severus, this really is ridiculous. You're a grown man. You've been avoiding seeing me for medical check ups for years, despite very obviously needing them. It's about time you get over whatever hang ups you have.' Poppy sighed. 'I'm supposed to be at a lecture in five minutes. I'm guessing the wards have been triggered because you need acute medical assistance. I imagine it's something fairly serious, given that it was enough to lock you in. Now Hermione is more than capable of dealing with anything that I could myself. If you refuse to talk to me, then you can deal solely with her. She will be taking over from me in the very near future anyway. Perhaps she can get you to see sense for once in your life! Goodness knows I've tried for long enough!'
'I will do no such thing! The girl is barely out of school, clearly inexperienced and lacks either the knowledge or ability to cover school medical duties profficiently!'
'I'm honoured that you think so highly of my abilities that you believe me irreplacable, Severus. But you are utterly wrong in your assessment. If you require treatment then you will either allow Miss Granger to provide it or you can suffer in silence. And don't think for one second that I will be treating you personally when I return on Monday. You've avoided me for years, so you clearly don't care that much for my medical skills. Besides, I will be far too busy to act as your personal physician. Now... as there are no dire emergencies, if you'll excuse me, I'm wanted elsewhere.'
'Don't you fucking dare...' Snape cursed at the vanishing figure, then swept a pile of notes and bottles off the nearest desk in rage.
Hermione sighed and sat down on the main desk, watching as the man's anger turned to hopelessness. She felt a slight stab of disappointment that he still viewed her as a mere student, despite her efforts in the war and her years of medical training since. She was on route to become the youngest fully qualified mediwitch in Britain once her apprenticeship was completed, having doubled up all of her exams and project work. She would begin her masters qualification before the year was out and would likely complete that in record time also. But he still viewed her as an irritating little girl.
He had his back turned from her, but she could see the tense outline of his muscles through his long black coat as he rubbed at his temples.
'Do you want some tea?' She offered.
He let out a slightly manic laugh.
'I'm making another cup anyway.' She shrugged and walked into a small alcove where Poppy kept a kettle and a secret stash of biscuits. She set about making the drinks, then returned to the main table with two full cups and the tin. He still hadn't moved. She put his cup down on the opposite side and took a sip of her own, peering up at him and deciding to try a different method.
'Do you have some sort of veneral disease?' It was a fairly ridiculous question and she'd deliberately meant it that way. The man barely left the castle other than to get potion supplies or books. Unless he had some woman trapped down in the dungeons with him... Of course, that scenario would limit the risk of him catching anything. She almost laughed out loud at the idea.
'Don't be absurd!' His voice was ragged, but Hermione was pleased she'd got him to at least talk.
'Well, I'm assuming it's something fairly embarrassing if you're so unwilling to admit it. Since you're having trouble explaining the problem, then perhaps it's easier if I list the most awkward conditions I can think of and you can just nod when I guess correctly?' She grinned, knowing her forwardness would get some sort of rise out of him. The approach tended to work well with the older male students whenever they had to come and ask for assistance with something private. Snape was basically just a taller, grown up version. She wasn't disappointed.
'Shut up, Granger!'
'I'm only trying to help.' She offered, innocently.
An irritated growl was the only response.
'So... not an STD. Hmm... erectile dysfunction? Bladder infection? What about...'
'Merlin! Just shut up!'
He really was easy to wind up. It was quite adorable in a way. Although part of her felt sorry for the poor man. Snape was clearly suffering from some ailment or another and she had no desire to see him in pain, regardless of how nasty he had been to her during her time as his student. He was almost doubled over where he stood, and appeared to be holding his stomach.
'Do you feel sick?'
He didn't reply for a moment and Hermione stood up and went over to his side, reaching out to rub his back in what she hoped was a reasssuring gesture. His eyes were shut tight and his face twisted in pain. He flinched as she touched him, as if burned.
'Get away from me!'
She ignored him.
'Come and sit down. Poppy's right. This is ridiculous.'
He didn't respond for a few seconds, then she heard and felt him sigh as he ran another hand through his hair.
'Come on.' Her tone was a little more demanding and she led him towards the empty chair. His sudden lack of protest worried her more.
He sunk down onto the chair and rested his elbow on the table, his head in his hand. The other was still wrapped protectively around his stomach, which, Hermione noted, seemed to be making an awful lot of noise. Food poisoning, maybe? The house elves had an immaculate record and always cooked meals in the great hall to perfection, but perhaps he'd swallowed some gone off potion? Although considering his skill in that area, it was doubtful. Surely he would know immediately if a potion had turned. He did look very ill though.
'Tell me if you're actually going to be sick. I can deal with mess, but I'd rather not have to if only for convenience sake.' She tried to keep a slightly sarcastic air, knowing that he didn't respond well to Poppy's overtly fussy nature.
'I'm not. I don't think.' He swallowed, still unable to look at her.
'Alright.' She took another sip of her tea and nodded towards his. 'I haven't poisoned it, you know.'
He snorted at the suggestion.
'I wouldn't blame you if you had.'
'That would negatively impact my reputation as a healer.' She retorted. 'Best not to take that risk so early on. You're safe for the next few years, at least.'
She saw a slight smirk appear for a fraction of a second.
'Useful to know.'
'So... are you going to tell me what's wrong? I'm already assuming the worst, so it had better be something good! I rarely get any interesting cases here.'
Snape sighed and leaned his head back on the chair, staring at the ceiling. That was progress, Hermione thought.
'No.'
Or not.
'So, we're still playing guess the mystery illness? Alright, I like a challenge!' She put her mug down decisively.
'Miss Granger...'
'Unless you'd rather spend the weekend trapped in here with me?'
She couldn't help but grin at the look of pained realisation on his face. He closed his eyes and muttered something that didn't sound especially polite. The man had quite an impressive vocabulary.
'What if we just start with the basics? I'm guessing it's something to do with your stomach, from the way you've been holding it for the last ten minutes.'
He immediately removed his hands and turned away, annoyed by his own lack of subtlety.
'How long have you had the symptoms?' She tried.
Snape seemed to be debating with himself. She refrained from talking, allowing the silence to drag on until he was ready to respond.
'Years.' He finally conceeded.
'So I take it you'd been... self medicating... until now?'
'Yes.'
'And has something made it worse or has whatever you've been using now ceased to have any effect?'
He shifted uncomfortably on the chair.
'Both.'
'Alright. Well, that's a start.' She took another sip of tea. 'Are you in any pain?'
'Why the hell would I be humiliating myself like this if I wasn't!' He snapped. Hermione ignored it. He was just embarrassed.
'Do you want me to get you anything for it? Painkiller potions, or...'
'They don't work. None of the fucking potions work any more!' He groaned, dropping his head back onto his hand. 'And if you dare start lecturing me on...'
'I'm not Poppy. I'm sure your well versed enough in medicinal potions to be aware of the effects.' She pulled a biscuit out of the tin, offering one to Snape. He shook his head, but sat back to stare pointedly at his tea, tracing the patterns on the china with his thumb. It was an oddly submissive gesture and looked strange on him considering his usual demeanour. 'Have you seen any other healers?'
'No.'
'Okay. I suppose I should be honoured then.' She broke the biscuit in two and put half in her mouth.
'Don't be. It's not as if I have any bloody choice in the matter, is it?'
Hermione sighed and finished the other half of the biscuit. It was like dealing with a petulant child. She wouldn't have spent the whole of her student life being so scared of the man if she'd known he had this side to him!
'This would be over a lot sooner if you would just tell me what's wrong. I can help you fix whatever the problem is and you can go back to hating me. No one else needs to know. I don't need to tell Poppy either, if you're concerned about...'
'Bloody fucking hell!' He groaned, grabbing his middle and getting up to pace about the room.
Hermione didn't try to stop him. The man had so much nervous energy that he looked like he might explode. Maybe walking about would help.
'I need... damn it!' He rubbed at his temples in frustration. He slammed his fist into the wall again and spun around to face her. 'IF YOU DARE TELL ANYONE... ANYONE ABOUT THIS, I'LL...'
'Whatever you tell me will stay between us.' She promised, her voice a lot calmer than she felt. He stared at her in silent rage for a second, before turning back around towards the shelves.
He let out a long breath.
'My... my insides don't... work.' He stammered, his voice barely audible.
'They don't work?'
'Yes, Miss Granger! I take it you haven't gone deaf!' He snapped.
'I'm not sure what you mean.' She clarified.
'Merlin!' He took another long breath, clearly trying to steady his nerves.
Hermione wondered why Voldemort hadn't simply embarrassed the man to get information out of him. It would have worked much faster than unforgivables. The man was more repressed than a monk! The inordinate number of buttons on his clothing should have been an obvious hint.
'I can't... I mean... I'm having trouble with...' He ran his hands through his hair again. 'I can't... go to the bathroom!'
'Oh, I see.' She took another sip of tea. 'Well, that's a bit disappointing. I was expecting something a bit more exciting like random growths or...'
'I'm not here for your amusement!' He spat, still not turning to face her.
'No, but considering how worried you were about telling anyone, I was expecting something far worse.' She put down her tea. 'Well... that should be fairly easy to fix.'
He laughed.
'Easy to fix! You have no fucking idea what...'
'Come and sit down.' She suggested. 'You've told me what's wrong. The world hasn't imploded. So you can relax. And I'd rather not have to talk to the back of your head.'
She suddenly realised her tone was a fairly close immitation of Professor McGonagall. All she needed was the scottish accent! Years of listening to the older witch dressing down Harry and Ron had clearly rubbed off on her.
'I can't.' Snape's voice was barely a whisper.
'Why not?'
'I... I need to stay over here.'
'Professor, just...'
'Just stop asking bloody questions!'
Hermione sighed and got up, walking over to where he stood at the far end of the office. It was then that she noticed the smell.
He groaned as he realised she was there.
'It's alright. It takes a lot to shock me.' She reached up to rub his shoulder in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. He flinched at her touch and seemed to coil away.
'I... I didn't...'
'Don't worry. I deal with far worse things on a regular basis.' She lit a few extra candles. Poppy had them charmed to quickly remove any unpleasant smells; which came in handy fairly often in a medical wing. 'Come and sit down.'
He sighed and let her lead him back to the table, his expression utterly miserable. He sat down and folded in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach.
'This is humiliating!'
'No one else is going to find out. And I don't care. So you have no reason to feel humiliated.' She finished her tea. 'When was the last time you managed to...'
'Two weeks.' He interrupted before she could say the words.
'Wow! I'm assuming that's not... normal for you?'
He shook his head, his cheeks a deep pink against his pale skin.
'Okay. What have you tried so far?'
He sighed and covered his face again.
'I took a lot of... different potions... and muggle treatments.'
'Muggle treatments?'
'Laxatives... and some powder... I found it in a chemist.' He explained. 'That just made it worse.'
'Alright. And is it just this one issue? Or is anything else the matter?' She was fairly certain Snape hadn't had any real medical treatment in years, if ever, going by the number of time she'd heard Poppy complaining about him. So it was likely this wasn't his only problem. Although it seemed to be causing him the most trouble at present. Enough that he had been forced to seek help despite his obvious discomfort.
'You're not my healer, Miss Granger! It's bad enough that...'
'Alright. We'll just deal with this and send you on your way.' She held up her hands in defeat. 'Will you at least let me run a diagnostic charm on you? Just to make sure nothing is damaged in there?'
Snape took a deep shakey breath and nodded, seemingly giving in finally.
'You can stay there. But you'll need to remove your outer layers. You can keep your shirt on.'
He hesitantly began to remove his long coat, his hands shaking as he struggled to undo the buttons. He then unwrapped and removed his cravat and set to work on his waistcoat, swearing as his fingers shook beyond his control. Finally free of the garnments, he placed them unceremoniously over the back of a chair and took another deep breath to try and calm himself.
Hermione couldn't prevent the quiet gasp that left her mouth at the sight of his stomach. The man looked pregnant. That certainly wasn't normal. His guts were audibly churning and bubbling and he winced as another sharp pain sliced through him.
'Two weeks?' She checked.
'I think so. Maybe a bit longer.'
'You should have said something earlier.' She shook her head in disbelief, running the charms as he sat back and tried to keep still. The diagnostic image was lit up like a christmas tree and Hermione made a mental note to show Poppy once she returned. The man was a walking catalogue of illness! She focused her attention on his abdomen for now, thankful that he was at least allowing her to fix one thing.
'Well nothing has ruptured, thank goodness. But you need to get this sorted or you will cause serious damage.' She put down her wand and sat back to look at him. 'I can't give you anything to take orally. But Poppy has some fairly strong suppositories we can try.'
Snape blanched at the suggestion and suddenly looked nauseous.
'You can do it yourself. There's a private bed and ensuite through there.' She gestured to the small wooden door at the end of the office and got up to seach for the item. 'Let me have a look. It's rare that we have any use for them.'
Snape swallowed, looking slightly grey, but nodded.
'Please.'
He was visibly shaking as Hermione went over to the cabinet and began to search through various drawers. It was surreal suddenly having him in such a vulnerable position having spent most of her teenage years either intimidated or scared of him. She briefly recalled how mortified Snape had made her feel with his nasty comment about her enlarged teeth or the number of times he had insulted or belittled her efforts during his classes. The universe had a funny way of rebalancing things sometimes.
Finally, she located a small wooden box and opened it up, pulling out a long, pellet shaped capsule wrapped in a small paper parcel. She returned to the table and handed it to Snape.
'I assume you know what to do with this. Leave it in for at least five minutes.'
He snatched the item from her hand, not meeting her eyes, and quickly moved towards the small door. It allowed him through.
Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back down to pour another mug of tea. All that just for constipation! Although she couldn't really blame him. Snape was an intensely private man from what she had seen over the years, and it must be fairly mortifying having to ask anyone for help with something that personal; an ex student no less. She shook her head and returned to organising the medical files.

It was another half hour until Snape returned, looking even more worse for wear than when he went in. His face was sweaty and flushed and he was shaking even more. He seemed to have forgotten she was still in there and looked shocked when she turned around at the sound of his footsteps.
'Better?' She kept her tone casual.
'No.' He groaned, holding his stomach again. It was just as swollen as before.
'Did you...'
'I did exactly what I was supposed to bloody do! It did absolutely nothing!' He growled, running his hands through his hair in exasperation.
Hermione frowned, glancing over at the lower cupboard to her right. She hadn't wanted to suggest it. She knew Snape would likely have an absolute fit the second she did, but there wasn't much else left to try. The suppository had really been a shot in the dark. He'd tried all the other magical treatments. Sometimes the muggle ones were the most effective.
'Have you ever had an enema?'
'A what?' He glared up at her, his expression more of desperation than anger.
'It's a muggle treatment.' She explained. 'I won't lie, it isn't particularly nice. At least, most people don't think so. But it does generally work.'
'What the hell are you talking about?' He snapped, then immediately turned away groaning as his middle began to throb even more. 'God, that's made it even worse!'
'Go into the private room and sit up on the bed. I'll be there in a moment.'
Snape went to argue, but another wave of pain cut him off and he staggered through into the small bedroom in search of something to lean on.
Hermione entered a few moments later with a small bag.
He opened his mouth to question what she was doing, but his attention quickly turned back to his aching guts. He sat on the edge of the bed doubled over and tried to focus on breathing through the pain. He vaguely noticed her hanging something up on the bedpost, but was too distracted to look.
A minute later Hermione sat down on the mattress next to Snape's hunched figure.
'Do you trust me?' She looked up earnestly.
'No.'
Hermione half grinned at the not-quite-revelation.
'Fine. Then are you willing to pretend, for the next hour, that I'm a total stranger who you will never meet again in your life and whose opinion you don't give a damn about?'
'Miss Granger, don't flatter yourself! I don't give a damn about your opinion as it is!'
'If that were true then you wouldn't have taken the best part of thirty minutes just to admit that you couldn't go to the bathroom!'
His cheeks turned red again and he looked away. Hermione fought the instinct to smile. He was definitely adorable when he blushed.
Merlin! When did she start thinking about Snape and adorable in the same sentence? She felt her own cheeks burn at the sudden realisation and was glad the man was making such an effort not to look at her. She regained her composure and looked back over in his direction. His eyes were shut tight and he looked utterly exhausted.
'Just... just fix it!' He groaned. 'I'd rather suffer ten crucios than this! It's getting worse!'
'Alright.' She reached out and rubbed his back. This time he didn't flinch. 'Can you remove the rest of your clothes?'
'Is that really neccessary?'
'Yes. And I doubt you have anything I haven't seen before. I promise not to stare.' She pulled a pair of surgical gloves out of the bag and began to put them on.
When she turned back around, Snape was sat back against the pillows looking incredibly uncomfortable in just a pair of white linen shorts.
'I'm afraid those have to go as well.'
Snape looked as if he were about to protest, but then changed his mind and awkwardly slid the underwear down his legs, careful to keep everything covered. He quickly pulled the blanket up over his lap.
'Alright, now you can either lay on your side or on your hands and knees. It's entirely up to you.'
'What exactly does this entail?' The man looked worried now.
'That bag...' She gestured to the large rubber balloon hanging on the headboard. 'Contains two litres of water and a slight alkaline mixture that's designed to soften everything inside your body, including whatever is blocking you up. You'll need to hold it in for about ten minutes, but it should clear you out.'
Snape stared at Hermione in horror, then at the bag, then back at her.
'You're going to put that...'
'It won't hurt, but you might cramp up a bit. Although I can help you there.'
Snape looked fairly close to having a panic attack. He stared at the bedcovers despondantly.
'This is like some sort of twisted medieval torture!'
'Oh, it's not that bad. Some people enjoy it!'
'You'd have to be completely insane to...' He groaned, doubling over again.
'Come on. You'll feel a lot better afterwards.'
'I'm seriously doubting that!'
She rolled her eyes.
He swore and then took a deep breath, turning onto his side.
'What do I have to do?' He ground out.
'Nothing. Just lay there and try to relax. It will be a lot easier if your muscles aren't all tensed up.'
He groaned and swore several times again for good measure, in several languages Hermione didn't know.
'I never knew you were multilingual.'
'Shut up, Granger!'
She grinned and earned herself another glare. The effect was somewhat lessened by his current state of undress.
'I'm going to use some oil... a lubricant. It might be a bit cold.' She warned.
'Just get on with it!'
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled away the blanket to reveal his... rather nice looking if she was honest... backside. He winced at the sudden loss of dignity and she saw his hand clench up into a fist as he fought the impulse to grab the blanket and cover himself back up. He needn't have worried, she mused, he had a lovely body. A bit on the skinny side, certainly, but his insanely busy lifestyle had left him lithe and toned.

Snape hissed as something cool and liquid met with a part of his body that was rarely touched and held his breath as it dripped down an incredibly sensitive trail of nerve endings.
'Sorry!' She apologised, mistaking his loud groan for pain as her gloved fingers began to slide the mixture around his hole.
Snape buried his face into the pillows as he discovered for the first time in his life that... fucking hell... that felt amazing! God, what was she doing to him! He'd never...! His brain lost the ability to think in full sentences as her finger dipped inside his body and gently coated him in lubricant.
'Okay? Not hurting, is it?'
Snape shook his head, unable to speak. He felt his balls tighten and knew if she carried on for much longer he was going to climax without having to even touch himself. Merlin! How had he made it this far into his life without experiencing... this!?
'I'm going to stretch you a bit, just so the tube will go in more easily.'
Her words barely registered.
She pulled out again and continued to draw the oil around the outer ring of muscle in slow circles, occasionally applying a slight pressure and moving her finger further inside. Only a millimetre or two at first, gradually building up the depth until her entire digit was buried in him. Snape's body clenched involuntarily around her and he bit the pillow so hard to keep from crying out that he was worried he would pass out from lack of air.
'Relax, professor.'
She stopped moving, just leaving her finger inside his body while he grew accustomed to the sensation. Slowly he managed to uncoil his muscles and he whimpered in disappointment as her finger slid back out again. He blushed as he realised the sound had come from him. Fortunately, Hermione didn't respond and busied herself with something behind his line of sight.
'Alright. Lift up this leg a bit more.' She tapped his thigh and he followed her instruction, shivering as his leg rubbed past the erection now throbbing against the bedcovers. 'This will feel a bit weird going in, but it shouldn't hurt. Tell me if it does and I'll stop and let you get used to it. Try to push down instead of tensing up.'
He felt something harder press against his anus and did his best to remain calm. But as it began to push through into his rectum, he felt all of his muscles automatically tighten up against the invasive object. The sensation wasn't nearly as enjoyable as her fingers had been.
'Push down.' She reminded him. 'It will go in more easily.'
'I'm trying!' He snapped. 'You try staying relaxed while someone's shoving a tube...'
'It will only hurt if you fight it. Take a deep breath and count to five.'
He groaned and followed her instructions, willing his muscles to relax enough for the tube to slide all the way through. He winced slightly at the increasingly full sensation, already feeling as if his guts were ready to burst. It seemed to be getting bigger the further she pushed it, stretching his backside open to an almost uncomfortable width. He wished she would put her fingers back there and...
'Oh god!' He cried out as the tube rubbed against what he assumed was his prostate gland.
'Do you want me to stop for a bit? It's almost in now.' She gently stroked his hip as she spoke and her touch on his already overly sensitive body sent small electric pulses up his spine.
He shook his head and she carried on threading the tube another couple of inches. There was a loss of pressure as the end narrowed again and the muscle around his hole closed back up holding it in place.
'Alright. I'll give you a minute to get used to it, then I'll start to let the mixture in. It will mostly just feel warm, but tell me if you start to cramp up and I can slow things down.' She pulled the blanket back up to his waist, much to his relief, and let him lay still.
Snape experimentally tried to squeeze his hole tighter and shivered hard as the tubing pushed back against him. So far it hadn't been quite as torturous as he had expected. In fact, if he hadn't been in quite so much pain and if he'd been on his own... actually no, he recalled the wonderful things Hermione's fingers had done and decided that it probably was better that she was the one administering it, however humiliating the experience was. Wait, when had he started thinking of her in terms of 'Hermione'? She was his student... well, ex student... it had been a while now. And she was...
'Oh!' He grasped hold of the bed in surprise as an intense wave of warmth flooded into his bowels.
'It's alright. Just relax and let it do it's job.' She stroked his back gently and he felt like he was being massaged both on the inside and out.
For the first few minutes it actually felt quite nice; soothing mostly, and Snape felt his body automatically arch into it. Then as more and more of the liquid entered him, his guts began to feel swollen and overly full from the increased volume. The sharp pains began to return with avengence and he winced, trying to ignore them.
'Is it hurting?'
'A bit.' He admitted, gritting his teeth as his bowels began to complain.
'Try switching position. If you turn over onto your hands and knees... that's it.' She helped him move around. 'Then lean on the pillow. Gravity will help move everything further in.'
Snape sighed and tried to ignore the fact that he no doubt looked utterly ridiculous with his backside raised up in the air. At least the blanket was covering anything too embarrassing. His erection had only gotten worse.
The new position did keep the cramping at bay for the next few minutes. Although as more and more of the liquid entered his body, his guts began to protest yet again and he found himself having to fight the instinct to bear down with each stab of pain that rolled through him.
'How much is there left?' He groaned, feeling as if he would burst if he so much as breathed in too hard.
'About a third of a litre. You're nearly done.' She rubbed his shoulder. 'How are you feeling?'
'Hurts.' He managed.
'Where?'
'My... stomach.' He gasped, trying to keep his breathing slow.
He inhaled sharply as he felt a hand snake down past his side. For a moment he wondered if it would move down to his groin, but instead it began to massage large, slow circles across his abdomen. It felt quite nice and the cramps did begin to die down a little as she moved everything about. But he found himself wishing Hermione would massage another aching part of his body! Was it wrong to think of her like that? She was no longer his student, after all. She hadn't been for a while now. Did it really matter? Besides, it was difficult not to think of her in that way while she had him caught in such an intimate situation. Was it really his fault that his body was reacting the way it was?
'Does that help?'
Her voice interrupted his rambled thoughts.
'Yes.' He breathed. She really was good at this. Although considering how much of a perfectionist the girl... woman... had been in school, he shouldn't have been surprised. He found himself wondering what other talents she possessed.
She continued for another few minutes before announcing the bag was empty and Snape felt the tube slowly slide out of him. He squeezed hard against the sudden pressure, glad to find that at least he wasn't sore from being held open like that.
'Okay, now you'll need to hold this in for ten minutes. I'd advise you to try and keep still. No jumping off the bed or any sudden movements.'
'Miss Granger, I doubt I'm capable of jumping at all in my current condition! You needn't worry.' He drawled, his tone far more confident than he felt.
'You'd be surprised how many people decide they are fine and... aren't!'
'How many victims have you tortured like this?'
'Not that many. Although I've heard enough stories from other healers. Is it really that bad?' She stroked his back in concern.
Snape sighed.
'Actually no... it isn't... unpleasant. So far, at least.'
Hermione grinned.
'Not unpleasant?'
Snape felt his cheeks start to burn and turned away. The witch was more observant than he'd given her credit for.
'It's alright. You're not alone. Men have a lot of extra sensitive nerve endings down there.'
'Indeed.' He grumbled, annoyed at himself for being so obvious. He was losing his touch.
He sat up briefly to give his aching arms a rest and immediately wished he hadn't.
'Fuck!' He grabbed his now even larger belly with a groan as the pressure suddenly shifted downwards. Then groaned again as he realised the blanket had slipped down and his 'not unpleasant' reaction was fully on display. He yanked the blanket back up, but knew she'd already seen it.
'It's easier if you lay down.'
He struggled back into a foetal position, the pressure in his bowels suddenly a lot more intense from the movement. He winced as he felt another strong urge to push down and fought against it.
'I think I could... er...'
'You need to give it ten minutes. At minimum.'
'I really don't think that's neccessary.' He growled. He really did need the bathroom now. He was fairly certain this time it would work. In fact, more than certain. He clenched his muscles hard and had to very ungracefully wrap his legs together to keep everything in.
'How much longer?'
'About eight minutes left'.
'Merlin!'
He tried to keep his breathing steady as he lay there battling with the intense pressure in his guts. It seemed to be growing worse by the second, the cramping having now returned full force. He tried to focus on Hermione's hand gently rubbing his back and sides, or the quiet ticking of the mechanical clock in the room, anything but the desperate urge to shit! It was starting to become unbearable now.
'Fuck! How long?' He groaned again.
'Six minutes, fifty two seconds.' Hermione laughed. 'Honestly, I'd have thought you'd find this easy compared to some of the things you've dealt with over the years.'
'You're not helping!' He reached back and pushed his hand against his hip, trying to force his cheeks to close even tighter. It didn't help. He shivered and panicked as he imagined he felt something wet escaping. Although he was sweating so much it was impossible to tell. 'I don't think I can wait that long!'
'You put up with Voldemort torturing you for years. I'm sure you can deal with a bit of water for a few minutes.'
'That's hardly a fair comparison!' He gasped.
His skin was covered in goosebumps, every single touch and brush of material like small electric shocks. He shifted position onto his back, aware that the angle made his erection blatantly obvious but no longer caring. His muscles were begining to ache from being held so tightly for so long. God, he'd never needed to go so badly in his life!
'Do you want a distraction?' Hermione asked, her expression completely innocent.
'What?' He glared up at her, then immediately hissed as he felt a hand running up his thigh. Fuck! Was she... was she really offering to... was he going mad?
'It's entirely up to you. But you seem to be enjoying this and I don't mind helping.'
She was actually propositioning him! Hermione bloody Granger, Gryffindor know-it-all and bane of his existence for almost seven years... Okay, so she hadn't been that bad. But he certainly hadn't expected her to grow up into a kinky nurse! Not that he was complaining. He could barely string two thoughts together in his current state and lacked the ability to complain!
'You... are you serious?'
'You can say no. I won't mind.'
'That's not what I... fuck!' He couldn't think straight, all of his concentration focused on not completely ruining the bed!
Hermione smiled and her hand continued upwards, drawing a groan as she covered the outline of his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. She then pulled down the blanket and began to repeat the movement on his naked skin, running her hand up his tightly clenched thighs towards his groin and this time finding his balls, stroking the soft velvety skin with her fingers.
'Merlin! I... I don't know if this is a good idea!' He gasped, his resolve gradually slipping. Part of his brain was screaming at him to shut up and let the woman continue doing lovely things to his body. It had been years since anyone had so much as looked at him and here was a woman willing to give him what he needed voluntarily and without payment! The other part was screaming at him to get to a toilet immediately or he would seriously regret it! The combination was intense and only heightened his body's response as she touched him.
He groaned loudly as she cupped his balls in her palm, squeezing them gently, then sliding her hand further along the sensitive underside of his shaft. He gasped and bucked his hips as she took hold of his full length, the movement sending shockwaves all the way down his groin.
'I really... need to...!' What did he need? His mind was a mess! His body felt as if it were on fire.
'Four minutes, forty three seconds.'
Snape gasped as the pressure in his guts shifted down further and pushed back hard against the strongest cramp yet. He felt an intense hot flush wash over his entire body and panicked as he realised he was only moments away from disgracing himself. 'I can't... Please! It's too much!'
On any other day he would have been shocked to hear such a pathetic sound coming from his own mouth. Begging was not something he made a habbit of doing. Even under the threat of multiple curses, he had never begged Voldemort for anything. Yet here he was pleading with Hermione Granger like a child! If his mind wasn't already so overwhelmed with other concerns, he would have recoiled in self disgust.
He interrupted his own thoughts with another strangled moan as she began to slowly work her hand up and down, twisting and pulling him in an agonisingly slow pattern.
'It doesn't look like you want me to stop.'
'Aaaaargh! You evil witch!' He cried out. His body was already shaking violently, his muscles pushed to their very limits, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer... at either end! He gripped the bedsheets so hard that he felt the material begin to tear under his hands.
'Now that isn't very polite. I'm sure you would have taken house points for that sort of language back when I was in your class!' Hermione was clearly revelling in the change of power roles.
He was about to repeat his insult when she added;
'I've a good mind to make you wait another ten minutes!'
The mere threat of having to hold on any longer was enough to send a surge of agonising cramps through his guts. Snape arched his body up off the mattress and grabbed his backside with both hands in an attempt to hold everything in.
'No! Please! I'm serious! I can't...' The words trailed off into a longer moan as she began to speed up her movements, his cock already starting to leak fluid.

Snape looked utterly exquisite, Hermione thought, as he writhed about on the bed under so much pressure. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire and she marvelled at how every little touch or change of movement from her produced a groan or whimper from him. He was a lovely instrument! And seeing a man that was usually so stoic and repressed suddenly so out of control was doing wonderful things to her own body, the heat pooling between her legs and up her spine. Hermione watched him carefully, wanting to imprint this memory in her mind forever. She loved the mixture of ecstasy and panic he wore. She honestly couldn't care less if he ruined the bed. In fact, she had deliberately added extra cleansing mixture in the knowledge that it would make it harder for him to wait. Besides, it was nothing a few spells and a change of sheets couldn't fix. But she knew he wouldn't. He was so desperate to keep control over his body and she loved watching him do everything he could to retain that control. It was incredibly intense. And yes, there was some small part of her that considered it fair play in return for all the nasty sarcastic remarks he'd thrown at her over the years; he deserved a bit of retaliation. But mostly it was because seeing him like this was just so damn hot!
Perhaps it was a weird type of PTSD left over from the war, she considered? The stress had done some sort of psychological damage to her brain. She'd certainly never thought about using medical treatments as a sexual activity before. And yet watching her former potions professor twisting about in front of her was the most erotic thing she could imagine at that moment. It had awakened a tiny sadistic streak somewhere inside her.
He was gasping loudly for every breath, begging for release. But she decided to keep pushing him for a while longer, just to see how far he could go. As he began to reach climax, Hermione slowed her movements ever so slightly and brought him back down, before gradually working him back up towards orgasm, repeating the pattern several times until she was concerned he might pass out if she went much further.
He was close to sobbing by the time she finally decided he had waited long enough. With a few long hard strokes, she sent him over the edge and he came shuddering in her hand, cursing loudly.
It was wonderful to watch. He lost about ten years in that moment of bliss, his eyes heavy and serene and the lines in his face melting away as his mind cleared of every rational thought. His normally carefully controlled expression was suddenly entirely open and revealing of every emotion. It was almost as if she were seeing a whole other person behind the mask.
She caught most of the mess in her palm and quickly wiped it away as he collapsed back on the pillows. Hermione then picked up an empty chamberpot from beside the bed and sat back to let him catch his breath, waiting with a knowing grin for his senses to kick back into action. A moment later a sudden look of pure horror appeared on his face. Snape gasped and grabbed her arm.
'Fuck! I need...'
'What, this?' She held up the pot in her hand, just out of his reach.
'Yes!' He gasped. 'Give that to me and get the hell out!
'Of course.' Hermione smiled sweetly. 'But I'd like an apology first.'
'What!?'
She was going to hell. She was a terrible person and she was going to hell. She knew that. But it was just too hard to resist.
'An apology for your appalling teaching methods. You were fairly awful to us during your classes; you regularly made students cry out of sheer spite, you did your best to insult, humiliate and upset anyone who wasn't in your house. It's a wonder Neville even passed in the end. Although that was more Slughorn's doing than yours. You made everyone's time at school a lot harder than it needed to be. I think that deserves at least an apology, don't you?'
'You evil...' His expression was almost wild as he clutched his middle with one hand and moved to grab the chamberpot with the other. Hermione simply moved back towards the end of bed, outside the reach of the desperate man.
'Uh uh, insults will only make it worse.' She grinned, enjoying the sight of Professor Snape so flushed and agitated. 'I'll let you go once you've apologised and not before.'
'Miss Granger! Give me that pot or I swear...'
'You'll do what? I'm not sure you could focus long enough to do any useful magic in your current state!' She folded her arms as if daring him to try.
Snape noticed the door to the ensuite bathroom on the right and made to get up off the bed. He immediately realised that wasn't going to be an option and quickly sat back down with a groan.
'Fuck!'
'Just apologise and you can go. It's very simple.' At least it would have been for anyone who didn't have an unfathomably large amount of self pride. Hermione couldn't remember hearing the man apologise for anything during her entire time as a student. Or since. Yes, he had earned her respect for his intelligence, skill and bravery during the war. But he was still a nasty, sarcastic, cruel teacher and it was unlikely that any other current or past student would ever have him in a situation like this. Aside from immensely enjoying seeing him in this condition, Hermione felt she owed it to other students like Neville to get an apology.
'Aaaaargh!' He leaned over double, almost rocking against the bed as he continued to curse at her.
'Well?' She stood up and moved the chamberpot even further from his reach, but right into his field of vision in order to tease him. Another loud groan escaped his mouth as his eyes focused on it.
'The second Poppy finds out this how you treat your patients, your career is going to be over!' The man seethed, his eyes dark and dangerous! Although it was more of a whimper than a threat.
Hermione laughed at the idea.
'Firstly, Poppy is quite offended by the lack of trust you've put in her abilities as a healer over the years. She doesn't believe you respect her at all and is quite bitter about the fact. I doubt she would care much what you have to say about my methods towards you this evening. Secondly, until now I haven't deemed it neccessary to correct any of my patients on their behaviour. You are a special case.' She smiled. 'Thirdly, the medical practice guidelines for Hogwarts haven't been updated since the early twelth century and I can assure you my actions are well within those considered appropriate. If you would like me to fetch you a copy then I'd be happy to do so. I believe there are around eight hundred chapters in total, so you should be done reading in time for breakfast tomorrow morning.'
The scowl Snape sent her way was cold enough to freeze hell several times over!
'So... apologise and you can have this.' She placed the ceramic pot down on the table next to her. 'I'm sure you'll feel a lot better after waiting for so long. You must be quite desperate by now.'
'God!' His voice was almost inaudible.
'Thank you, although I prefer to be addressed as Hermione or Miss Granger as a general rule. I'm no longer your student, but there's no need for such honoraries.' She silently congratulated herself on her sheer bravado. She was going to regret this later, but she had already crossed the line long ago!
Snape actually smirked at that, borderline hysterical.
'You were sorted into... the wrong house!' He gasped, unable to sit upright any longer and laying back down on the bed.
'I've been told that a few times.'
'I'm sorry.'
Hermione almost missed the words, his voice barely audible as he panted each breath.
'What was that?'
'Fuck!' He almost choked and Hermione noticed the shivering in his body as the muscles began to give up. 'I'm sorry! You've got your apology! You win, Miss Granger... please!' The tone of anguish in last word sent a shiver down her spine.
She stared at him for a second, before gathering herself.
'Apology accepted. You can go now.' She handed him the bowl and made her way back into the office to give him some privacy, her legs feeling weak all of a sudden.

Hermione barely made it into the next room, immediately collapsing into the chair the second the door was closed. She unzipped her jeans, slid her hand into her underwear and began rubbing herself almost violently. Only seconds later she was silently gasping into the material of her nurses apron.
What the hell had she done!?
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Nurse Granger