Chapter 3
Since I had to abandon plan A, I would need to implement plan B. Which meant staying strictly professional whenever working with Professor Snape and not hoping to bump into him in the corridors. The last part was a bit difficult for me, I had to admit. I found myself subconsciously choosing routes which I knew he usually crossed, so-
Geez, Hermione, you sound pathetic. Have a little pride, will you?
Easier said than done.
On the morning of the first Monday of the holidays, Professor Snape called me to the Potions classroom.
"Granger", he acknowledged my entrance once the door fell shut behind me. "As I had mentioned before, you will start brewing the basic potions for the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey needs to have her supply of Pepper-up potions stocked up."
I remained frozen by the entrance, completely overwhelmed by his sudden instructions.
I was going to get to brew, just like that? Potions that would be imbibed by students and professors?
I swallowed nervously.
Suddenly, my excitement was replaced with the horrific thought of what would happen if I accidentally poisoned someone-
"Granger!", Professor Snape barked at me and pointed at a desk beside him. "Start working. I need fifty phials on my desk by lunchtime."
I mentally shook my head.
You can do this.
"Yes, sir", I croaked out and quickly made my way through the classroom to my assigned desk. Professor Snape had moved one of the students' desks next to his, so I would be working right beside him. Probably so he could keep an eye on me.
First, I got a cauldron, a glass stirring rod and several differently shaped knives that I would be needing. I arranged the knives in the order that I would be using them in, so I wouldn't have to search for the right one.
Then I grabbed a tray and made my way to the storage room to get the ingredients. Once I had everything, I returned to my table and lit a fire beneath the cauldron.
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. I could do this.
Once I had started slicing and mincing, I fell into my comfortable routine. I almost forgot Professor Snape's presence beside me, but only almost, and entirely focused my attention on my hands. The movements were so familiar, I barely felt the worry that I was going to do something wrong.
Time flew by and soon, the heat from the fire caused me to sweat heavily.
I lifted a hand and wiped with my sleeve across my face. My hair had to look as if an explosion had occurred in my brain. One of the pains of having wild, curly hair.
"Lower the temperature and let it boil ten minutes longer", a deep voice suddenly reached my ears. I looked up and found Professor Snape brewing beside me, probably another batch of Fever potions.
I reached out and did as he asked, but at the same time, the question "Why?" escaped my lips.
Professor Snape looked up, his hands never stopping to slice the ginger roots.
"Because it will give the Dandelion root the time to release all its nutrients into the brew", he replied smoothly. "The effect of the potion will be stronger."
"Then why do the instructions say to keep the temperature higher? And the boiling time shorter?", I asked.
"These potions are often made in a hurry when a pandemic of flus and colds hits the cities. It will suffice for a good Pepper-up potion to follow the instructions and that is all the common brewers in hospitals want to do. This, however, will teach you how to make a great and highly efficient potion."
I listened attentively and reminded myself to write all of his advice down in a notebook. Perhaps I could get one this week in Hogsmeade.
The time until lunch passed way too quickly and I learned more from Professor Snape in those four hours than I had from my Potions books.
Seriously, why didn't Professor Snape write a book of his own? That thought stuck with me until the end, so after I had filled the required phials and cleaned up my workspace, I turned to Professor Snape.
"Sir", I started, forcing my voice to remain calm when he fixed his dark, mysterious eyes on me. "How come you haven't written a book on Potions?"
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I beg your pardon?"
"All of the things you just told me would be so useful to everyone if they had access to it. Have you ever thought of actually writing a book?"
Professor Snape lowered his hand, which was holding a knife, and cocked his head slightly, fixing me with his unfathomable gaze.
"What makes you think I have not already written a book, Miss Granger?"
I stared at him.
"Wait, so you have written a book?", I asked surprised.
Lowering his eyes book to his herbs, the Potions Master continued slicing.
"Yes", he said tersely.
My eyes went wide.
"Could you tell me the title? I'd love to read it!", I said with excitement. "Maybe the bookstore in Hogsmeade has it-"
"There are only a few copies existing."
Professor Snape laid his knife aside and looked up again.
"And the ones in the possession of them have no intention of selling."
My face fell.
"Oh", I said and bit my lip. Well, that made sense. If his book was so desired, then of course no one would want to part with it. But why were only a few copies existing? Why not more?
Professor Snape started cleaning his knife and I took that as my cue to leave.
"See you tomorrow, sir", I said, still feeling slightly disappointed, and headed out the door.
Great. The best Potions Master in the world had written a book, and I couldn't even LOOK at it! How was that fair?
I huffed and crossed my arms, realizing in the same moment that I was acting like a petulant child.
Okay, I thought and started walking to the Great Hall.
I'll get two notebooks from Hogsmeade this week. One for the tips Professor Snape gives me and one for my own discoveries. If I can't read his book, then I'll make use of what I'm learning while brewing for him. After all, the only thing better than a famous book is working with the one who wrote it.
I grinned.
****
My days with working alongside Professor Snape were even better than I could have imagined. Within a few days, I felt completely comfortable with brewing the standard potions for Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape must have realized that too because he no longer supervised me while I was brewing. That gave me a sense of accomplishment, knowing that he trusted me enough to do this. Added to that, I was extremely proud of myself that I was behaving totally normal around him. I wasn't stammering, blushing or staring at him in any odd way. Anyone watching us would just think we were two normal people brewing potions side by side.
One morning, I was brewing another batch of a potion of dreamless sleep, while Professor Snape was busy in the storage room. I couldn't exactly see what he was doing, but I heard a lot of clanking around.
BANG!
CLONK!
I flinched and grimaced.
Merlin, can't he set up some silencing wards?
CRASH!
DONGGG!
After an especially loud sound, I laid down my knife, checked how much time my potion had to boil, and went to the storage room. The door was not shut completely and I peered through the crack.
WAMM! DOIING!
What the-?
I firmly pushed open the door and turned to the far end of the storage room, where the metal cauldrons and bowls were placed on a shelf.
Professor Snape was standing in front of the wide shelf, his wand lifted while- rearranging the cauldrons by letting them float through the air.
I cautiously stepped towards him and flinched when another BANG! sounded. It appeared as if the noise came whenever two cauldrons crashed into each other.
"Sir?", I said loudly over the noise. "Do you need help?"
Professor Snape did not even turn around.
"I thought you had a potion to brew", he snapped.
"It's boiling right now. What exactly are you doing?"
Professor Snape's wand froze and the flying cauldrons halted in midair. He turned to me.
"Reorganizing the mess the dunderheads made."
"Ah." No need to explain who the dunderheads were. I bit my lip.
"Should I help?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Have you ever organized a shelf filled with magical cauldrons before?"
I shook my head.
"They have preferences about who their neighbor is. For instance-"
Professor Snape turned back to the shelf and gestured to a golden cauldron. It was hovering in the air, but trying to inch its way to a copper one.
"The magic of golden cauldrons reacts aggressively when it comes in contact with copper. As you have heard, that results in some- fights among the cauldrons."
I had to suppress a grin. Cauldron fights? Perhaps people would pay to see those.
Flicking his wand, Professor Snape unfroze the cauldrons and resumed his work. As predicted, the golden cauldron gave the copper one a good bump before it floated away to its new destination.
That definitely explained the noise.
My eyes flickered to a iron cauldron, which was shooting straight towards a black one. It crashed into it with such force that it changed course- and whizzed into my direction. My eyes widened and before I could think about ducking, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side.
I stumbled into Professor Snape, the cauldron shooting past me. I was now pressed against his shoulder, which made me realize that he was a good head taller than me.
"Er- thank you, sir", I stammered and felt my cheeks heat up. Professor Snape let go of my arm, but did not step away.
"Careful", he grumbled, his black eyes boring into mine.
Oh my-
"You need to set up some safety wards, sir", I said quickly to distract myself, sounding a little out of breath. Either from the shock of almost getting knocked down by a cauldron or from my proximity to Professor Snape, I couldn't tell.
Professor Snape arched an eyebrow.
"Usually, I do not have spectators, since rearranging a shelf is not the most captivating task in the world", he said.
I had to grin. After another second of silence, I cleared my throat and hastily took a step back.
Professor Snape turned away.
"Return to your own cauldron, Granger. Before you get a concussion."
I nodded and quickly backed away before my face could reach the color of a tomato. With burning cheeks, I left the room and returned to my potion.
Crikey.
****
I noticed that Professor Snape seemed to work on a little private project on his own. More often he would disappear into his private lab, which was adjacent to the classroom, and when I asked what he was doing, he made it perfectly clear that he was not interested in sharing information.
Okay. I could deal with that.
The lake did freeze completely shut, so my nights outside became less comfortable. I spent most of the time in the reeds, but the fear of getting attacked from the forest made me start from my sleep regularly. The result was that I more or less looked like a walking and shivering zombie each morning. Yes, I had no problems with the cold as long as I was a Cygnus Cantare, but once I transformed back, sometimes while sleeping, my body temperature would plummet downward very quickly. And any spell that I would cast before transforming would wear off as soon as I became a swan. So, warming charms were not an option.
Several times, I noticed that I had left white-golden feathers in the reeds behind and I always made sure to take them with me. No need to leave behind any evidence.
****
"Sir?", I said one morning while cutting my mugwort into small pieces.
Professor Snape did not reply, but I knew by the slight movement of his head that I had his attention.
"Why is it that some people are still claiming to be on the right path about finding a cure for lycanthropy when there is none?"
Not pausing in his slicing, Professor Snape replied: "So you have realized that it is irreversible. That makes you one of the very few."
I shrugged.
Professor Snape continued chopping. Chop, chop, chop.
"And how did you come to this conclusion?", he spoke after a few seconds.
I was slightly surprised by his interest, so I decided to use this moment before he told me to shut up again.
"Lycanthropy is a disease spread by a virus. During the full moon, the virus can be passed on to another victim. You have heard of the lytic and lysogenic cycles of viruses, right?"
Professor Snape laid his knife aside and raised his eyes to look at me.
"Yes, I have", he said mockingly, as if I didn't expect him to know the basics of Immunology.
"Well, during the lytic cycle", I began slowly, "a virus reproduces, using the host cell to produce more viruses. The host cell usually bursts and dies."
I paused, then continued: "And in the lysogenic cycle, a virus incorporates its genome into the host cell's, which means it gets replicated every time the host cell divides. The virus inducing the werewolf transformation is inactive for most of the month because it is in the lysogenic cycle, but during the full moon the viral genome becomes active and- manufactures more viruses."
Professor Snape nodded at that and- I could have sworn I saw approval in his eyes.
"Correct. When the virus reactivates, it induces the symptoms, and then the transformation."
He carefully filled his sliced herbs into small glass containers, so I continued speaking.
"Once someone is infected with the viral genome, they will never get rid of it. It will continue to hide unnoticed in the cells, multiplying whenever the cells' genome does so as well."
Professor Snape continued chopping comfrey leaves.
"So, why are people still trying to find a cure?", I probed.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Professor Snape eyed the last pile of comfrey leaves he had to slice, then pushed up his sleeves, revealing his pale, but muscular arms.
Chopchopchopchopchop!
My eyes widened as I watched his fluent movements, the way he gracefully cut the leaves and slid the knife back into its sheath as if he did this everyday. Which he probably did.
"Because, Miss Granger", Professor Snape said disdainfully and turned to me, "there are charlatans who demand money so they can invest it in their 'cure'. I do not need to tell you about the Dunstin brothers, do I?"
The Dunstin brothers were two wizards who had become famous after pulling a scam that cost the ministry several thousand galleons. They had claimed to be on the brink of discovering a cure for lycanthropy and Minister Bodley (now replaced by Kingsley Shacklebolt) had been eager to offer them money. The Dunstin brothers took it and were never seen again.
I shook my head.
"I don't understand why people haven't learn anything from that."
"Because they are dunderheads", stated Professor Snape, as if it were obvious.
I bit my lip to hide a grin and continued to work on my potion, oblivious to the dark eyes watching me.
****
It was only a few days before Christmas when I got a terrible cold. It didn't come really as a surprise to me, since I spent so much time outside, but I still did not appreciate feeling so sluggish and tired.
Once I had returned to my room at eight a.m. (the sun rose bloody late in winter), I gave myself fifteen minutes to refreshen myself and downed a whole phial of Pepper-up, before I dragged my sick ass to the Potions lab. A thick scarf was wrapped around my shivering shoulders and I had even put on my fingerless gloves to keep my hands from becoming pure ice. Figuratively speaking.
I walked in, mumbled a "Good morning", and headed to my worktable, more-or-less ready to start another day with brewing pain-relieving potions.
Professor Snape grunted something back, busy measuring something on the scale. The door to his private lab was open, so I assumed he was working on his private thing. I smartly kept quiet and started working.
"Granger, once you are done, brew a cauldron of Blood-Replenishing potion", Professor Snape instructed and swept out of the room. The door to his private lab slammed shut.
"Yes, sir", I muttered, my voice sounding strange because my nose was so stuffed. I blinked several times to get the blurriness out of my head, then carefully continued brewing. Sick or not, I was not messing up this batch.
As the seconds ticked by, my eyes grew heavier and my limbs felt as if they were made of lead. I really longed for my soft bed and a warm cup of cocoa.
Scratch that. A bucket of cocoa. Hot chocolate always made me feel better when I had a cold.
When I almost added the figroot buttercup instead of the pilewort, I knew I had to go to bed. I sighed and lowered my stirring rod, then placed a stasis charm over my cauldron.
I didn't want to appear as a wuss who couldn't even handle a cold, but if I was going to ruin a perfectly good potion because of my tired brain, then it would be smarter I retired for today and work longer once I was healthy again. Pulling my scarf tighter around my shivering shoulders, I walked towards the closed door and listened.
Inside, I could hear Professor Snape cursing angrily.
I guess his project can't be going too well.
Knocking didn't seem like such a good idea any more. I contemplated just returning to my worktable, when a wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled and had to grab the doorknob to steady my feet. As luck would have it, the doorknob turned and the door swung open to the inside.
I tripped and needed a moment to regain my balance.
Professor Snape whirled around.
"What?", he barked.
"Er-", I said nasally because of my stuffed nose, "I wanted to inform you that I'm not feeling well today and I think it would be best if I continued my work tomorrow."
Professor Snape stared at me, looking me in the eye for the first time today. Perhaps he thought I looked awful too.
"Is there a reason you did not inform me earlier?", he said sharply. "Before you almost wasted my ingredients."
I sniffed irritatedly.
"I did not 'waste' your ingredients. I put a stasis charm on my cauldron, all it needs is some more stirring and the pain-relieving potion will be done."
I had to blink several times to keep my tired eyes from drooping. It was great to know my crush only cared about his ingredients instead of my health, but what did I expect?
"Don't bother coming back until after Christmas", he said and turned around. "By the looks of you, you'll be spending most of it in bed."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Thank you", I replied sarcastically and turned to leave. What a jerk. I still couldn't understand sometimes why my heart actually had to choose him. Maybe because I knew that under all of that scratchiness he was actually a good person. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something golden glint in his large cauldron. It was a blue liquid, dotted with golden splotches.
"Is that a cure for the Cruciatus Curse?", I said before I could stop myself.
Professor Snape glared at me.
"I thought you were leaving."
I didn't hear that comment, nor did I see the icy look he shot me when I let go of the doorknob and stepped closer.
"What kind of modification is it?", I asked curiously.
Professor Snape sighed and picked up his stirring rod, continuing to stir counterclockwise.
"It is supposed to support the renewal of damaged nerve cells", he said, annoyance lacing his voice. "But the Cruciatus is a dark curse. It fights against any remedy and refuses to let the victim's body heal. In order for a cure to work, I need something with the power to heal, something that can bind the dark curse. So far, nothing I have used was successful."
Aha, now that sounded interesting. I rubbed over my tired eyes, trying to focus.
"And unicorn hair?"
"It stops the development of the curse, but doesn't cure it", said Professor Snape icily.
"Phoenix tears?"
"They get absorbed by the patient's tissues without ever reaching the curse."
He shot me a warning look.
"Miss Granger, you will leave my lab now and retire to bed. I need a functioning apprentice to work with- and added to that, I do not have time to answer your questions."
I bit my lip as I continued to stare into the cauldron. The power to heal...perhaps I could-
The song of my swan form has healing powers.
Supposedly. Maybe...
"What about a part of a feather of the Singing Swan?", I blurted out.
Professor Snape let out a disdainful laugh and shot me a mocking look.
"And where would I get such a feather?"
"From the one on the black lake."
Slight surprise crossed his face, as if he hadn't expect me to know about the swan, before his cold mask slid back into place.
"The Singing swan rarely shows itself to humans."
"Then maybe the swan dropped a feather somewhere", I suggested.
Dark eyes shot me another glare.
"A Cygnus Cantare does not simply drop feathers. It sheds it when the person who asks for it is deemed worthy or needs it the most."
Huh. I guess I need to practice keeping my feathers on me.
My head started spinning and I closed my eyes to regain my concentration.
Okay, just give him one or two feathers. You have several in your bag. If the cure works, it could save hundreds of people and he wouldn't even know how you got the feathers.
And I kind of wanted to see how he would react if I helped him out.
I opened my eyes and stuck my hand into my bag. With one swift movement, I pulled out two snow-white feathers, each dotted with golden spots. Professor Snape turned his head and his eyes widened.
"Where did you get those?", he demanded and stopped stirring, almost subconsciously placing a stasis charm on the cauldron.
"I- got them from a friend", I said, holding the feathers into his direction. "Are two enough?"
Professor Snape actually looked completely flabbergasted.
"Miss Granger, two feathers will be enough to brew several hundred potions", he said in a rough voice and carefully accepted the feathers. His calloused fingers brushed against mine and I quickly lowered my hand. Each feather was as long as his hand and gleamed slightly in the dim light.
Professor Snape's head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at me.
"Why are you giving me these?", he said suspiciously.
"What?", I said perplexed. "I thought you just said you needed some."
"No one would give such valuable feathers away without wanting anything in return."
His dark eyes examined me, as if he hoped to find the answer to his question in my tired, pale face.
"And what would I actually want in return, sir?", I asked tiredly.
Professor Snape's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Money, certain ingredients. Or even a book that you cannot buy."
I involuntarily took a step back.
"What?", I snapped. "You think I only gave you these feathers because I want your book?"
"It seems plausible to me", said Professor Snape, his tone growing sharper. "After all, these feathers are valuable enough for you to demand a swap."
I stared back at him, registering what he had just said. Did he really think I was such a person, only helping when I could get something in return?
A bitter taste spread in my mouth and I fisted my hands in anger. I furiously opened my bag and grabbed a whole handful of white and golden feathers, throwing them against his chest.
Astonishment crossed Professor Snape's face.
"Fine", I spat out, "if these are so valuable to you, then you can have them all."
I whirled around and stalked out of the room, the door slamming shut behind me. The noise made my headache even worse.
Then I rushed out of the Potions classroom as quickly as possible.
Once I was in my room, I put on my comfortable pajamas, crept under my thick blanket and closed my eyes. The heavy pounding continued in my head, probably due to my lack of sleep. And my fury.
What a way to spend Christmas.
****
December twenty-fourth arrived, covered in a thick layer of snow. A bright ray of sunlight tickled my face and woke me up. I groaned something unintelligible and pulled my blanket over my head. Last night, I hadn't returned to my room until seven and half of the night I had spent awake. My cold hadn't gotten better and after drinking four bottles of Pepper-up potion in one day, Madam Pomfrey had told me I had a bad case of a magical flu and I just needed to wait it out. Which meant staying in bed, cuddling with Crookshanks and drinking plenty of hot tea.
So Professor Snape had been right when he said he didn't want to see me in his lab until after Christmas. I grimaced and slammed my pillow into my face. I'd forbidden myself to think about him because it only infuriated me.
He hadn't even apologized! As far as I knew, I could have sold my feathers and gotten a lot of money for them instead of giving them to that git.
But of course I wouldn't do that. Not when there were people actually needing what Professor Snape was working on.
Ugh.
The day passed quickly. I barely moved, got up twice to change my clothes since I had a bit of a fever and was sweating profusely, and wrote Ginny, Harry and Ron a letter because they demanded I prove that I was still alive.
When the sky had darkened outside, I realized that the Christmas dinner would be taking place now, since it was Christmas Eve. I felt a twinge of sadness in my chest. Even though I knew staying at Hogwarts would mean a lonely Christmas, I had at least hoped to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning in the Great Hall with my professors.
Severus' P.O.V.;
I slid into my usual seat beside Minerva, giving her a court nod. Across from me sat Filius and beside him Troy Wernin, the new DADA professor. Quite a nuisance, in my opinion. He stuck to his textbooks and was not open for any new techniques, not even when someone as knowledgeable as Minerva tried to give him some good suggestions.
Granger could have become like that had it not been for my insistence all these years she actually use her brain. It was larger than average after all.
I barely registered my other colleagues and focused on my plate. Thank Merlin this castle was student-free. Well, almost. Such quiet Christmases were rare.
"How have your holidays been, Severus?", asked Pomona politely.
"Same as usual", I said in a bored tone and started eating. The food looked delicious, but tasted like dust to me. I would have to feed tomorrow if I wanted to control my thirst. My last feeding was almost a week ago, after all.
"Well, now that you have Miss Granger to assist you, I'm sure you'll have more time on your hands", said Pomona brightly.
I whipped my head around.
"I did not make her my apprentice because I need assistance", I said sharply. "If I had to, I could continue just fine on my own."
Pomona backed away with her chair and shot me an apologizing look.
"Didn't mean to step on your feet."
"By the way, where is Miss Granger?", Minerva inquired and looked down the table that had been placed in the center of the hall for Christmas. "I've barely seem her this week."
"Oh, she's got a nasty flu", said Poppy and raised her wine glass. "The magical sort. She'll be down for another week, maybe two, depending on her health."
I frowned. I knew Miss Granger had a cold, but I had assumed it was the kind that could be cured with a simple potion. The memory of what occurred three days ago filled my head and I quickly suppressed the guilty feeling.
She gave you feathers that would each earn you several thousand galleons, a quiet voice said in my head. The least you could do is apologize.
That was the problem. If it were some other student, then I would have no intention of apologizing. But I had grown to respect Miss Granger's intelligence and her determination. I knew that I had hurt her feelings with my accusations in my Potions lab. The only difficulty was, I couldn't get myself to apologize. Even though I very well knew it was my fault, my own pride stopped me from doing so.
"Poor girl", I heard Poppy say and saw her shake her head. "She's been sickly all year. It's as if she spends the majority of her time in the cold."
"Yes, I have noticed she didn't look too well the past weeks", Minerva answered.
Lost in thought, I raised my wine glass to my lips and took a sip. Miss Granger had surprised me on several occasions. The first one was when she saved me in the Shrieking Shack, even though she had no idea that I was on their side. I still remembered her frightful face when she muttered healing spells to stop the bleeding.
I twisted my lips in a grimace.
I did owe her. Twice. The second thing I had never expected to do was throw a handful of rare swan feathers in my face. How did she even get those? If she had seen the Cygnus Cantare on the lake, then why would the swan give her so many?
Severus Snape, my inner voice said, you were never a nice man. But you are an honorable man. Debts or not, you owe Miss Granger an apology.
I frowned. Now how exactly would I do that?
****
Hermione's P.O.V.:
"Crooks?", I mumbled sleepily when my cat jumped out of my arms. I instantly missed his warmth and drew my blankets closer around me. Despite the roaring fire in my room and the four blankets on me, I was freezing. And I did not know what to do about my transformation. The moon would rise in two hours and I barely had the strength to get up.
But I had to get out before moonrise.
A scratching sound caught my attention. I blearily opened my heavy eyes and saw Crookshanks sitting at the door, clawing at it.
"What do you want?", I groaned and slowly pushed myself up. My head felt as if it had been hit by a mace, which had been swung by Hagrid.
"Do you need to go outside?"
My half-kneazle shot me a sharp look, then continued to scratch the door. And that was when I heard the knock.
Two sharp taps, then a pause. Then two more.
"Hold your horses", I muttered and sluggishly pushed myself out of my bed. I grabbed a clean tissue and quickly blew my nose, but that didn't help. I still sounded as if I had shoved all of Professor Trelawney's glass balls up my nostrils.
I quickly threw the tissue and the other ones I found on the ground into the bin and stumbled towards the door. My thick scarf was wrapped around me and I held a blanket around my shoulders. Sighing tiredly, I reached out for the doorknob, gently pushed Crookshanks aside with my foot and opened the door.
Dark eyes stared down at me.
I blinked several times.
"What are you doing up here?", I said, my stuffy nose making my voice sound extremely nasal.
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I patrol the corridors, Miss Granger."
Damn, I was too tired for this.
"You must be so busy patrolling the corridors of a castle that currently inhabits one student", I said snippily. "Excuse me, I'm going to lie down."
I attempted to close the door.
"Miss Granger."
I paused. Professor Snape stared down at me and I couldn't read his face. Either he was annoyed or... that was all I could think of.
"I believe I owe you an apology", said Professor Snape quietly.
I leaned against the doorframe and rubbed my watery eyes with my free hand.
Was I dreaming? I had to be.
"I should not have accused you of using the feathers as a means of getting what you wanted. If there is something I have learned in the past years, it is that you do not expect anything in return for your kindness."
He paused and waited for me to say something.
I just stared at him perplexed.
Professor Snape just apologized, my sluggish brain realized. How often does that happen?
Professor Snape cocked his head slightly when I continued to stare at him. Irritation flashed across his face.
This was definitely a fever dream.
"You know", I said, my tongue feeling like it was stuck to the bottom of my mouth. "You should definitely get Professor Snape to say that."
Professor Snape arched an eyebrow.
"Pardon?"
"That was a really nice speech, only I know that the real Severus Snape would never say that."
I yawned widely. "I'm just having another one of my crazy fever dreams. At least you're not dressed in a pink tutu in this one."
Professor Snape stared at me incredulously.
"Next time, bring me a hot chocolate. I always love dreaming of that."
I took a step back.
"Goodnight."
And I closed the door. I shook my head and mumbled: "Stupid fever. Why would I even dream of Professor Snape apologizing to me?"
I quickly stumbled towards my bed and let myself fall down onto it. Crookshanks meowed loudly and scratched at the door again.
"Cut it out, Crooks", I mumbled, "I need some sleep before the moon rises."
Severus' P.O.V.:
I stared at the closed door. This had not gone at all as I had expected it to.
When Miss Granger had opened the door, I almost thought she had died and turned into a living corpse. Why the he'll wasn't she in the infirmary? If she had fever dreams of me being in a pink tutu-
I shuddered and turned around to get Poppy. I didn't particularly care about Miss Granger's health, I told myself. I just needed my apprentice to be back on her feet by the end of this week.
When I told Poppy about Miss Granger's state, all she did was shrug sympathetically.
"There is no potion against a magical flu", she said and continued reorganizing her cabinet. "She refused to stay in the infirmary and since she is already a legal adult, I cannot force her to. I gave the house-elves the instruction to bring her a warm meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I've placed a monitoring spell on her to alert me when her condition worsens, but so far, she's stable. I've checked on her regularly as well and I will again in an hour. She will be alright."
Poppy turned to look at me.
"I must say, Severus, this is the first time you've expressed your concern about a student."
I scowled at her.
"I can't have her brewing in my lab when she is sick", I snapped and swept out of the infirmary.