Life on the edge

Chapter 3

Warm darkness greeted Snape. His senses were floating back slowly, and he noticed, beneath an uncommon sensation on his face, an airy scent of cinnamon over the fresh smell of soap he was used to from his bed sheds. Carefully he breathed it in, aware of the fact that he was able to breath again. Then he could attach the feeling on his skin to a meaning: Someone was stroking his cheek. With great effort he opened his eyes, blinded at first from the incoming light. Some lines were coming into focus, darkened and grew wider to the well-known features of his bedroom. Now Snape could also feel a weight on the right side next to him, and comfortable warmth, as well as the cinnamon scent, spreading from it. He turned his head slowly and looked up, blinking. The shadowy figure above him became the outline of a well-known person.

"Didn't I tell you not to accompany my tests?",

he croaked, finally realising the person next to him.

"Yes, you did. But I was curious enough to sneak in and read your notes on that damn poison you took. What happened?"

She sounded calm, but quite shaken, he noticed. With a sigh Snape closed his eyes again and leaned back on the pillow - no, Hermione's lap, he realised suddenly. He tried to get up rapidly after this discovery, with the only result that his vision blurred again and he fell back.

"Shh, stay!"

Her concerned voice and her ongoing stroking unnerved Snape. He wasn't some little child who needed comfort!

"The potion is too strong. I think I made a mistake with the measurement of Night Tears..."

"And that can cause a medical potion turn deadly?"

She kept stroking him gently.

"Not the potion as such. But the dosage is affected. That too much of Night Tears caused me falling asleep, and that's fatal with this poison. Well - usually it is."

He opened his eyes once again and stared suspiciously into Hermione's face above him.

"I saw you shiver, as if you tried to fight the potion. When I touched you, you calmed but didn't relax properly; in the given context I regarded it as a good sign and went on," Hermione explained and blushed slightly.

"She's right," Snape thought. "If she hadn't caused this kind of sensation I would have lost contact. Oh no... Not her! From all students in this school, why Granger?!" He looked up again and met Hermione's eyes. Besides the still remaining concern, he noticed the first time that her eyes were of a violet colour; oddly enough, he had always thought her eyes were brown. He mentally slapped himself; it couldn't be possible that this girl was able to distract him so easily! Must be an after-effect of the potion... He tried to sit up again, slowly this time, and had to force himself not to shove away Hermione's helping hand on his back. He had intended to get some distance between him and Hermione, but now he found the situation worse: She now sat behind him, leaning slightly against his shoulder to support him, looking questioning up to him. Her right hand still rested on his back, the other one reached for his own. Snape went rigid at once when she touched his upper leg and stood up - too fast. He stumbled back and fell on his bed again, where Hermione caught him to his embarrassment. She coughed shortly under his weight, then held him firmly in her arms. Now he looked up to her, feeling very stupid and more angry at the same time.

"Miss Granger, there is no further need for your presence in this room," he said with suppressed voice. To his anger - or astonishment? - she merely smiled.

"Alright, Professor, I'll leave. But please, when you testing this potion again, tell someone else to watch and to intervene if necessary. Will you?"

"I will consider it. Now get out! Make sure you're in time for class tomorrow. I won't accept any excuses!"

"Of course, Sir."

Hermione lifted his head from her lap and climbed out of the bed. She strode towards the door, where she paused. "Good Night."

Without a look back she left. Snape waited until he heard his office door snap, then he relaxed with a loud sigh. He remembered that he should drink much water after the effect of the potion had worn off. With effort he pulled himself upright and got himself a large mug of water. He settled back on his bed and took a gulp when realisation hit him finally. He had nearly died - he had endangered not only his own life, but the success of his spying mission, his only chance to repair some of the horrible things he'd done. Snape noticed his hands shivering. He had to thank Granger tomorrow - hadn't he? She didn't know anything about his past, she wouldn't understand the implications. Oh, he hated to be in someone's debt! But nevertheless he was going to do it, he needed her help in his coming research. Snape emptied the mug, waved out the candles with his wand and laid down. In the darkness the memories of the last half an hour floated back, and Snape groaned. Why had it to be Granger? And why had she acted - how she had acted? Snape felt comfortable when the students were frightened of him and stayed out of his way. Well, Granger was an exception in quite a way, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen her as assistant - but she hadn't shown the smallest sign of decent discomfort, in the contrary, she had seemed to enjoy the situation. Snape pulled a pillow over his face, crossing his arms around it, and tried to block out those images. If he thought about it - it had been quite a while since the last person had given him a different smile than a nervous or a fearful one...

"Damn!"

He had to get these thoughts out of his mind, they could become dangerous for him. After another large glass of water he drifted into sleep again, a comfortable and healthy one this time.

The next morning began worse than the last evening had ended - Snape nearly fell out of bed for pain. The Dark Mark on his left arm burned into his flesh and cut off his breath. Disoriented he tried to remember the day; Wednesday, it finally came to him. Luckily he did have only one class on Wednesday till afternoon which could easily be caught up later with his time turner (of course, Voldemort knew that) but still he had to be careful if he didn't want to be seen. It had to be a rather urgent topic, too; there wasn't any meeting planned for at least three weeks. He was ready to leave when he remembered to inform Dumbledore that he had been called. Cursing under his breath he hid the white mask under his robes and strode towards the headmaster's office.

Hermione awoke in her shadowy private room and dosed on a bit; she still had plenty of time. In the last months she had awoken very early, and sleep fled her in the early morning hours. She wondered if it had something to do with the N.E.W.T.s - only this single year was left of the wonderful years of school. Hermione knew exactly that she would do well at university, but she loved Hogwarts and a huge part of her refused to leave this place of security and - yes, home. She suspected that her fear of leaving caused the insomnia she had to fight with in the last time. She really would miss everything of this place. Although... She wouldn't miss Filch. And Miss Norris. And Snape. Well... The images of the last night came back to her. He had been close to death, she knew that. But the way he looked after she had touched him - relaxed; peaceful. Surprisingly his skin had felt smooth and silky, in the very contrast to his sallow look. She actually had enjoyed to care for him, after the first shock of watching her teacher collapsing had faded. Hermione snorted in her half-awake state: If Snape would knew any of her thoughts, he would declare her as that naive, ridiculous girl she was in his eyes and kick her out of assistance-ship. She continued to remember the last evening in Snape's bedroom. She had sneaked into his office under Harry's "special" cloak, eavesdropping the passwords to his private chambers and the bedroom as well, and watched him preparing the risky test. She was astonished that he hadn't noticed her: even if she had been invisible, Snape was known for his unusual sharpened senses. Hermione had been ready for him to uncover her by - well, maybe supernatural hearing or smelling; maybe he was even able to feel the presence of other people - but nothing had happened. So she was able to watch him striding through his chambers, glowing with excitement and eyeing the dangerous potion with sparkling and flashing eyes that Hermione had never seen before. Actually, Hermione had never seen Snape in this kind of light and joyful mood. And if she thought about it... He had looked even more peaceful and - natural - than later in his potion-indicated stasis. Well, of course this image had been destroyed after his awakening.

She giggled as she remembered Snape stumbling and falling in her arms - she would bet anything that he would have preferred to knock his head on the floor rather than being caught by her. His face had spoken volumes in that moment. Hermione remembered that peculiar smell she had recognised before, some sandal-wood and patchouly, warm and comfy. She was sure now that Snape gave it off; his pillow had smelled alike, and as she had supported him from behind, she had been so close to him that there was no mistake possible. Hermione rolled over and looked at her alarm clock (which had became useless in the last two or three months), groaned and got up. She remembered Snape's warning very well and hurried to be at time in the potions classroom. On her way downstairs she met Harry and Ron in a large group of babbling students who returned to the common room. Something had happened, by the look of it.

"Hey Hermione, guess what has happened!"

Ron stormed on her. Harry followed him with a big grin. She looked from one to the other.

"I have no idea. Now tell me and come on, we'll be late for potions."

"Nope, we won't! Snape is sick and all potion classes are cancelled for the next week!"

Ron jubileed. Hermione grew pale at once: The potion! The "Black Sleep" must have had some after-effects! And no one knew about the test last night, except her! Harry looked at her with concern:

"Hermione, what's on? Don't worry about the lesson... Or... Do you know something we don't?"

"Come with me. Quick," she told her friends with hoarse voice and broke in a run. Irritated, Harry and Ron ran past her, still having enough breath for questions, but Hermione shook her head.

"Later!" she panted and sped on.

"But Hermione, where are we going?" Ron moaned and stopped.

"Hospital wing, of course!" she told him over her shoulder. Shaking his head Ron trotted on. In the meantime Hermione reached the large door to the hospital wing and rushed through it. A very startled Madame Pomfrey looked up at her from her desk where she had written reports.

"Miss Granger, would you be so kind and tell me what this rampage means?!"

Hermione stopped abruptly.

"Professor Snape - he tested "Black Sleep" yesterday - maybe it has something to do with it - "

"What are you talking ab... Oh. Er, yes. Thank you for the warning, I'll see what I can do. Now get out please, you have classes to apply."

With that, the nurse shoved Hermione out and closed the door behind her. Harry and Ron, who had waited for her, looked at her expectantly.

"Er... Now... That is odd."

"And what? Come on, what's happened yesterday? Why do you think you can help Snape?"

"Yeah, and why do you want to help him?" Ron grumbled.

Hermione wandered off slowly towards the Great Hall. Her thoughts stormed and rattled, and a certain suspicion grew in her. "Well... Are you sure that the classes are cancelled because Snape is sick?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore told us in front of the dungeons." A last piece fell into place and made her conclusion complete.

"Alright, listen. If Snape would be sick, where would he been? In the hospital wing, right?" Harry and Ron nodded.

"But when I entered, Madame Pomfrey sat behind her desk in her office. She was not in the bedroom, as she usually is when she has a patient. And when I mentioned Snape she didn't know what I was talking about in the first place. Don't you think that's odd?" Harry seemed to understand.

"You mean - Snape is not in the hospital wing, therefore he's not sick. But Dumbledore told us so, and that means... He has some reason that no one may know where Snape really is."

"Exactly. And... Well, I think that points to only one possible conclusion, doesn't it?" Ron had got the point, too.

"You mean, he's spying again? And that's why - but, Hermione: Normally he goes back to You-Know-Who in the holidays, when the school is closed. That is why his alibi works for the Death Eaters: For them he is spying out Dumbledore, and they know he can't go away from school and come back as he likes. If he is called during the school period, all of them know that he can't miss a whole day, not to speak of a week, without any explanation to Dumbledore. So, either they don't care and are willing to risk "their" loophole into the school, or..."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, and she continued Ron's sentence:"...or they know."