A Certain Amount of Sense

Chapter 3

Because she had left breakfast so early, Hermione figured she had time to visit the library before her first class of the day. While she had calmed down considerably, she still did not want to bump into Ron before she had to, and the library was the third best place in Hogwarts to avoid him, after the Slytherin dungeons and Moaning Myrtle's lavatory.

Clutching the permission slip in her hand, she tentatively approached Madam Pince's desk.

"Yes, what is it, Miss Granger?" Madam Pince managed to look down her nose at Hermione even though she was sitting down.

"I have this note from Professor Snape, ma'am." She handed it over to the librarian. As Pince read the note, her eyebrows rose incredulously, and with a snort she shoved it back at Hermione.

"How did you get this?" she demanded.

"I told you, it's from Professor Snape. See, he signed it at the bottom."

"I know what it says, Miss Granger. But I'm hardly as gullible are you'd like to believe. I highly doubt that Professor Snape would have written this, much less given it to you."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She had forgotten Pince's suspicious nature, especially as witnessed the last time she had come to get a book from the restricted section. Before she could think of a response, however, she heard a familiar silky voice drift over her right shoulder.

"I can assure you, Irma, that the note is authentic."

"Professor Snape!" both women exclaimed. Hermione turned around, surprise evident in her eyes.

"I would encourage you to show Miss Granger the location of the books before she is late to class."

"Of course, Severus. This way, Miss Granger," said Madam Pince meekly as she quickly walked to the back of the library.

Hermione was shocked. Had Professor Snape just corroborated with her? It was the truth, of course, but he was the last person she would have expected assistance from for something so minor as borrowing a library book, even if it was one he had assigned. Stunned as she was, by the time she realized that she should have thanked him, a slip of black robes was the only evidence of his prior presence before the door to the library closed.

"Miss Granger, please hurry up. I haven't got all day."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." Hermione hurried to catch up with the librarian, storing away the encounter for further examination.

***

On the way back to the dungeons, Severus was likewise preoccupied. What had just happened? He wasn't even sure why he had gone to the library in the first place. He had been thinking of Granger as he left the Great Hall, and when he found himself standing behind her, something had happened. It was as if a part of his heart that had been missing had finally clicked into place; there was the slightest sensation of the peace one felt when they saw something familiar after being away in a foreign land for a long time.

It was comforting and scary at the same time. How so many years of practiced isolation could be forgotten by just the sight of a student's bushy mane. For the briefest of seconds, he wondered what it would feel like to reach into that cloud of curls. It wasn't a desire propelled by lust and more the longing borne from the loneliness he had known for so long.

When he had heard his name being uttered by Madam Pince, though, he had snapped back to attention. It galled him to think that the librarian would dare to presume anything of him. He had reacted by interrupting the conversation to the defense of Granger.

"Damn," he muttered as he happened to walk past two Hufflepuff second years. They jumped back in fright, thinking he was about to scold them.

"That's the second time in as many days that girl has made me speak without thinking," he thought to himself. And how could he explain the whole fascination with her hair? "It's frizzy, for Merlin's sake. And it's brown. Brown." What could be so special about brown, frizzy hair?

Except that the locks in question belonged to one Hermione Granger. When had she become more to him than just the female of Potter's two annoying sidekicks? It was a rhetorical question, really. He knew exactly when it had happened.

It had been directly after the fight in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last term. He had been searching for her and Potter in the Forbidden Forest till almost dawn. His voice was tired from shouting, and just as he was about to collapse from exhaustion, an owl had appeared with a message summarizing what had happened to the children and summoning him to the hospital wing at once. He apparated to the edge of the forest and ran into the castle with newfound energy. There in the hospital wing he saw that Madam Pomfrey was busy tending the Weasley boy.

"Severus, I need you to take a look at Miss Granger," said Pomfrey pointing to the bed on her right. "I've tried to stabilize her as best I could, but I think she'll be in need of some healing only your potions can provide."

Indeed, the girl had sustained the kind of injuries indicative of the Ostriflamus jinx, a particularly nasty spell which caused not only third burns but also left a magical residue that prevented them from being fully healed without a complex regimen of potions. As he was examining her, she had woken up quite suddenly. Her eyes were wide in shock, and she was having extreme difficulty breathing. She was clearly panicking, and he feared she would cause more harm to herself if she did not calm down. He grasped her hands that had been reaching about wildly, possibly in search of her wand.

"Miss Granger, listen to me. You are safe. Do you hear me? You are in the hospital wing at Hogwarts and you are safe. Please, you need to calm down."

At his words she had gone still. Her eyes found his, and he could see the panic turn into understanding and then into something that could possibly have been trust. He dropped her hands immediately, as if they had burned him. She continued to look at him, however, and her breathing had returned to normal.

"Professor Snape," she said quietly, and it had sounded like the answer to an unspoken question.

He had had to avert his eyes, looking down instead to her burns. His voice took on a more businesslike manner, although it was still nowhere as harsh as the one he used in class.

"You have been hit with the Ostriflamus jinx, Miss Granger. It will take a week or two to heal, but you must follow my instructions carefully. You will have to drink a series of potions every day in the exact order I tell you and at the same time each day. Unfortunately, we only carry eight of the potions here in the hospital wing so I will need to brew the remaining two now."

He rose to leave but stopped when he felt her hand staying his. He turned his head slowly. She looked straight into his eyes.

"Thank you," she had said softly. He gave a slight nod in acceptance, afraid what his voice would sound like if he had tried to speak. Her hand withdrew from him, and she had closed her eyes, her long lashes casting shadows down the length of her pale cheeks.

That afternoon he delivered the potions to Madam Pomfrey through house elf and made sure never to have the occasion to cross paths with Hermione again until he knew for sure she had left on the Hogwarts Express. Over the summer, it had been easy to forget her as he continued to do his work for Dumbledore, and even when she had returned at the beginning of the school year, he had been able to avoid her for the most part. At times when necessary, he made sure to be especially distant and harsh to insure that there would be no repeat of what had transpired in the hospital wing that morning. Except that now, in a moment of weakness, he had allowed himself to have hope again.

Disgusted with himself, he responded by deducting five points from Hufflepuff (wishing the students had been Gryffindor), mainly because he could and because it made him feel better, to know that he was in control once more.

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