Fic for Shiv
Jun. 27th, 2007 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42Prompt: Hermione has a cold. She's not battling bravely on, but feeling very sorry for herself. Someone offers to soothe her fevered brow.
And it isn't Ron
I perhaps didn't stick to the prompt all that well, but it kinda just came out this way. And refused to stop coming.
So, anyway here you go.
“Aw, is poow wittle 'Mione down wif a cowd?” Hermione nearly growled at the condescending tones of Draco Malfoy as he came across her lying on the couch.
“Bugger off, Malfoy!” she snarled, then stopped to wipe her dripping nose, whimpering at how raw her skin had become.
Draco slouched across the room and made himself comfortable in one of the wing chairs by the fireplace, then leaned forward, messing up her light.
“Malfoy, please move.” When he did nothing more than look at her with that supercilious smirk, her small dose of patience ran out and she started snarling again. “Malfoy, you're in my light. Move!”
His smirk spread into an amused grin, and he sat there looking highly pleased with himself. “I'm sorry Granger, I know you're trying to communicate, but I just can't understand what you want me to do. It sounded as if you want bees to moo, and although I'm sure there's a charm somewhere that would accomplish that, I'm afraid I don't know it.”
He tilted his head, grinning even more broadly at her growing annoyance. “But then you said something about biting moos?”
“Draco, stop teasing the help,” came an unctious drawl from the other side of the room. “You think you're being clever, but really you're just lowering yourself to her level.”
Hermione twisted herself around to see Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape standing in the door, watching the scene. Rolling her eyes, she settled back down to try to read, sniffling as she did. Fortunately, she could blame it on her cold, and no one would ever know any differently.
Damn him.
Lucius, not Draco. She didn't care a whit about what Draco said to her, mostly because his barbs were more pussy willows than anything. They could hurt if used properly, but he just stood there and threw them at her, hoping she'd go “ow.”
But Lucius, he'd had practice. He knew how to get under the skin. He knew exactly what to say to infuriate her, and usually did it all without giving up one obvious insult.
Oh no. That was below him.
No, he'd just make sure to rub it in her face that she was actually living off of his money. Granted that being his business manager was a far cry from the scullery maid he was implying she was. Also, it was a fair slap in Malfoy's face that the Ministry had forced him to employ her (for scrutiny's sake) at all, but even so, it was a low blow for him to make.
He knew how she felt about him and his slave-labor profit margin.
Of course, his subtle insults weren't limited to financial status. He'd also make snide digs about her witchly experience - being Muggle-born, intellectual experience - being female, and sexual experience - being Muggle-born and female. All very subtle and incredibly well-crafted insults that seemed like compliments on the surface.
It drove her mad, and she knew that he knew it did. That in itself was infuriating.
Normally, she was above it all. She knew herself to be the better, if poorer, person. She had managed to beat Draco's scores in every class they took, and that was without the benefit of Professor Snape's favor. She had managed to procure an image of moral integrity and was a role model for all young Muggle-borns, but especially the witches. In the eyes of society, she was beyond reproach. That's why she, of all people, had this job.
Of course she was the better person.
But, damn it all, when she was sick, it was hard to remember. When her head was stuffed so tightly that she could barely hear, and her nose was runny but completely blocked, her mouth dry from having to breathe through it, her bones aching just for the hell of it... when all of her body decided to simply break down and thumb its figurative nose at her, then it was hard to remember not to be hurt by Lucius' well-aimed barbs, whether they were subtle or not.
So, of course she was sniffling due to the retched cold, and not anything Lucius might have said. Especially as that had been mild comparatively. Almost friendly, in fact...
Perhaps she looked worse than she thought and she had evoked some pangs of sympathy in the devil's heart?
She shook her head, almost laughing out loud at herself. No. No sympathy from Lucius would ever be felt, let alone forthcoming.
“Why the smile?”
Severus' voice brought her out of her reverie rather abruptly, making her jump just slightly. She looked around and found that he was the only other person in the room. He was now sitting in the chair Draco had occupied, but he was at least relaxing back so as not to block her light.
“Pardon?”
He leaned forward.
“Why the smile? You look like death warmed over, then put in the river to soak, so I imagine you can't be feeling all that well. Lucius said you're so sick you even took the day off. And I know that when I'm feeling like you look, I don't feel much like smiling.”
She blinked as she forced her sluggish mind to process all of Severus' words.
Severus, she had found, was nearly the polar opposite of Lucius. She wondered if the men's friendship was based purely on that parity. While Lucius would pander and flatter his way to power, Severus insulted and bullied. Lucius would make love to people while insulting them subtly, while Severus insulted people to their face, but usually there were underlying compliments. If one looked hard enough. And you weren't Harry. Lucius' loyalty was always questionable at best, while Severus' had been proven, twice or three times over, most definitely. Granted the sides he'd been supposedly 'clearly' loyal to had switched, but then again, obfuscation had been his job.
Lucius looked like Adonis while Severus looked like Hades.
She had found over the course of the past few months that she actually quite liked Severus. He was clever and, in his own bitterly resentful way, good natured, if more than a little reserved. They had chatted and grown to be friends of a sort, but the fact that he was sitting there talking to her in a quite sympathetic and pleasant tone, however, was more than a little astonishing.
It was so astonishing, it startled the truth out of her.
“I was laughing at the absurd notion of Lucius ever feeling the least bit of sympathy for me, no matter how horrid I look.”
Severus snorted. “You underestimate his vanity, Hermione. He values his looks almost more than he values his money, and he assumes everyone else does as well. You really do look a fright, so I imagine he is feeling pangs of sympathy for you, as you've lost what is so dearly important to his own life.”
It was Hermione's turn to snort.
“If you are telling the truth, then it seems far more likely that he's regretting having to look at me than actually feeling sorry for me.”
Severus actually smiled. “Yes, there's that, too.”
Hermione smiled back briefly, before his words sank in and she frowned.
“Well, if I'm such a hideous sight, why are you here looking at me?”
Severus smirked again. “Look at me, Hermione. Do I have any justifiable reason to suffer from vanity as Lucius does?”
Hermione shrugged. “You're not that bad.”
She was surprised when he threw back his head and laughed.
“Words of praise indeed!” he said. Reviewing what she'd said, she realized the implicit insult and blushed, though it made her look rather more mottled than anything.
“I didn't mean it that way,” she muttered, trying to burrow into herself, propping up the book to hide behind.
Severus leaned back in the chair again, but he was still smiling at her. It was most disconcerting, and was making her feel more self-conscious than any of Lucius' remarks would have done. She wondered if that was the point.
“No, I imagine you didn't. You aren't like us, are you?”
“Us?” Hermione asked, feeling her hackles rise. She'd been around the Malfoys long enough to have that blood superiority nonsense get under skin.
“Lucius, Narcissa, myself and, to a lesser extent, Draco. Those of us who have been trained in the art of insulting friend and foe alike, and using subtle gradations to differentiate the two.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a few moments, but found it was hurting her eyes, so she stopped.
“No, I guess I'm not like you. I try not to insult my friends unless they've been utterly stupid and deserve it.”
She rubbed her head, finding that staring at him had given her a headache.
“Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed?”
Hermione shook her head, regretting it as it seemed to spread the headache further into her brain.
“I don't want to be in bed.”
“That's not what I asked, though.”
Hermione looked at him, and found he was regarding her with something that looked like concern. She sighed, half in exasperation and half in pleasure that he was actually concerned.
“Yes, my body would be more comfortable in bed, but my bedroom is the least comfortable place in the Manor, so I'd rather be out here.”
“Where you can get on Lucius' nerves?”
She shot him a quick grin, although stopped with a groan when her cheeks protested.
“That's just a fringe benefit, but yes.”
He chuckled again before leaning forward. “Well, since you're determined to stay here, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
Hermione's jaw dropped.
Yes, she and Severus had been getting along reasonably well in the last few months, and yes she had been fairly sure that he considered her to be someone above 'dunderhead' status, but she'd never thought in a million years that she'd see him so solicitous.
“Why?”
It popped out of her mouth before she could think. She blamed it on the stuffy head overwhelming her mental filters.
He didn't frown, though. He just smirked. “I don't suppose you'd believe I don't like seeing you in such discomfort?”
She shook her head again and winced at the movement. “No.”
He did frown at that. In fact, he stood up and left the room.
Hermione watched him go with wordless dismay. She'd been enjoying their conversation and his company, and then she'd gone and thrown it all away with a bit of ill-timed honesty? She hoped that he would forgive her when she was healthy enough to chase him down and explain that it was the cold talking, and that of course she believed he had basic human emotions and he couldn't possibly blame her for speaking her mind and...
She realized she was babbling in her head and stopped. She realized that she had pushed away the last person she wanted to push away. She realized that she was bloody achy and miserable and no one loved her or wanted to be around her.
"Might as well go eat worms," she muttered.
At that thought, she started sniffling more heavily, and found her eyes needed a bit of wiping as well, but she didn't have a clean handkerchief to wipe them with.
At that, she gave up all pretenses and started crying outright.
“This potion should help,” a voice said behind her. She looked up through waterlogged eyes and saw Severus standing there with a steaming goblet.
“It doesn't have any echinacea in it, does it? I'm allergic,” she asked as she reached out for the cup.
He shook his head with a smug smirk. “No, I doubt you'll have any unpleasant side effects with this one.”
She looked at him curiously, but accepted the cup and drank it all in one gulp. It was rather horrid tasting, but as soon as she had swallowed the last drop, her head started clearing. Her nose was still running like a hosepipe, but she felt ten times better.
She looked in the empty cup in astonishment, then handed it back to Severus who was looking at her with something akin to expectation.
“What was that?”
He smiled again, rather nervously. “Did it work?”
She nodded tentatively, sighing when it was a completely pain-free movement.
“What was it?” she asked again, this time a bit more impatiently. Something about Severus' behavior was making her suspicious.
When he smiled at her again, this time broadly enough to expose some of his yellow teeth, she knew something was up.
“Severus...”
“It was a potion of my own devising,” he admitted with sparkling eyes. “You've just become the first patient to take it.”
Hermione blanched. “You used me as a test subject?”
He tilted his head and frowned. “Do you want to be back in pain? I have the antidote if you wish it to be out of your system.”
Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it again, firmly. She scowled at him for a few moments before trying to speak.
“I would have liked a little foreknowledge. I don't appreciate being used, and I'd think you of all people would understand that!”
His frown turned into a scowl. “Pardon me for trying to help you. I'll refrain from that in the future.”
Hermione was appalled to find that tears were gathering again, and this time she couldn't blame her cold. She sniffed before choking out, “I was happy with your help when I thought you were helping because you wanted to help me, not because I was a handy guinea pig to test your new potion. Silly me thinking you might have liked me and were even flirting with me, what with all your smiling and laughing and maybe you wanted to...”
Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth as words continued coming out of her mouth without her consent. Quickly realizing it was a side effect of the potion, she glared at Severus through her tears and ran off, hand clamped over her mouth to try to muffle the words spewing forth.
~SSHG~
Half an hour later and she had finally stopped talking. Her reaction to the potion had been a lot like a Babbling Beverage, only not quite. It hadn't been complete nonsense, but more a purge of her thoughts. Granted, a lot of her thoughts were nonsense to others, but they made sense to her.
Sinking onto her bed, she hung her head in mortification. She didn't know whether she wanted to thank or kill Snape for giving her that brew. She was out of pain, and the only remaining symptom of her cold was her still draining nose, but on the other hand... How dare he use her like that! She could have had an allergic reaction to it, like she had to Pepperup. Yes, he said there wasn't echinacea, but that didn't mean it was safe!
But, the thing that hurt her the most was the thought that he probably had been nice to her only because she was an easy, overly-trusting mark. That hurt.
She conjured a wet washcloth and scrubbed her face. After Severus' descriptions of her, she didn't really want to look in the mirror. She wasn't a vain sort, but looking like a bloated corpse wasn't exactly good for the ego, and her ego had just taken a massive hit.
She held the facecloth in her hand, looking at it morosely. While the potion had cleared up her symptoms, she still felt the icky-blues, as she called them. In fact, she felt more sorry for herself than she had to begin with.
Sighing, she used the facecloth to wipe her nose before banishing it. She picked up her book and was well on the way to making herself as comfortable as the cold room allowed, when there was a knock on the door.
Muttering unflattering things under her breath, she got up and made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Severus standing there looking very tense.
“I'm sorry.”
Hermione might have been surprised at the apology, but she merely leaned against the door. Seeing that she wanted an explanation along with the apology, Severus ran his hand through his hair and started pacing.
“It's true I did want another person to test the potion on, seeing as most people just take Pepperup and are done with it, but that wasn't my only motivation for giving it to you.”
“Another person?” Hermione asked curiously. "You said I was the first."
He shot her a hard look. “I tested it on myself first, of course. You don't think I would give you an entirely untested potion, do you?”
Hermione had the grace to look a bit ashamed of herself. “Not really, no,” she muttered.
Severus was still frowning, but breathed in deeply. “As I was saying, it wasn't my only motivation. I really didn't like seeing you look so miserable, and I knew from your school files that you can't take Pepperup, so I thought that this potion of mine could help.”
“You could have told me what it was, or asked me if I wanted to try it, you know.”
It was Severus' turn to look slightly abashed. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Hermione leaned her head against the door, thinking over what he'd said. She was surprised when he started talking again.
“And I'd also like to apologize for the side-effect.”
Hermione nodded her head but kept her head down and bit her lip. He might not have meant to embarrass her, but he had. Now everything was ruined.
He surprised her again when she felt his finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up to his.
“And I'm sorry you ran off under the wrong impression. I...” He paused, looking a bit awkward. “My timing perhaps could have been better, but you weren't wrong about my reactions to you. I—I've been finding myself rather enthralled with you lately, Hermione.”
His fingers slid along her jaw until his hand was cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed at the feeling of his touch.
Opening her eyes, she found him looking at her with fondness; she smiled up at him. He smiled back at her.
“You knew about the side-effect, didn't you?”
His smile turned a little tense, but he nodded.
“And you were counting on it, weren't you?”
His smile was turning into a grimace as he nodded again.
“You were flirting because you wanted to know what my reaction to you would be once I took the potion.”
He jerked his head forward in a tight nod, his face now an icy mask of indifference that she hadn't seen since her schooldays.
She reached up to touch him on his cheek, smiling as his eyes widened and his face thawed a little.
“Now I see why you didn't just ask,” she said then moved forward to give him a hug. When his arms slowly wrapped around her, she smiled in contentment.
“So maybe someone does like me after all?”
Severus snorted, hugging her a little tighter.
“I assure you that there are better things to eat than worms.”
She hugged him tighter in response, and felt the icky-blues join the rest of her aches far, far away.
And it isn't Ron
I perhaps didn't stick to the prompt all that well, but it kinda just came out this way. And refused to stop coming.
So, anyway here you go.
“Aw, is poow wittle 'Mione down wif a cowd?” Hermione nearly growled at the condescending tones of Draco Malfoy as he came across her lying on the couch.
“Bugger off, Malfoy!” she snarled, then stopped to wipe her dripping nose, whimpering at how raw her skin had become.
Draco slouched across the room and made himself comfortable in one of the wing chairs by the fireplace, then leaned forward, messing up her light.
“Malfoy, please move.” When he did nothing more than look at her with that supercilious smirk, her small dose of patience ran out and she started snarling again. “Malfoy, you're in my light. Move!”
His smirk spread into an amused grin, and he sat there looking highly pleased with himself. “I'm sorry Granger, I know you're trying to communicate, but I just can't understand what you want me to do. It sounded as if you want bees to moo, and although I'm sure there's a charm somewhere that would accomplish that, I'm afraid I don't know it.”
He tilted his head, grinning even more broadly at her growing annoyance. “But then you said something about biting moos?”
“Draco, stop teasing the help,” came an unctious drawl from the other side of the room. “You think you're being clever, but really you're just lowering yourself to her level.”
Hermione twisted herself around to see Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape standing in the door, watching the scene. Rolling her eyes, she settled back down to try to read, sniffling as she did. Fortunately, she could blame it on her cold, and no one would ever know any differently.
Damn him.
Lucius, not Draco. She didn't care a whit about what Draco said to her, mostly because his barbs were more pussy willows than anything. They could hurt if used properly, but he just stood there and threw them at her, hoping she'd go “ow.”
But Lucius, he'd had practice. He knew how to get under the skin. He knew exactly what to say to infuriate her, and usually did it all without giving up one obvious insult.
Oh no. That was below him.
No, he'd just make sure to rub it in her face that she was actually living off of his money. Granted that being his business manager was a far cry from the scullery maid he was implying she was. Also, it was a fair slap in Malfoy's face that the Ministry had forced him to employ her (for scrutiny's sake) at all, but even so, it was a low blow for him to make.
He knew how she felt about him and his slave-labor profit margin.
Of course, his subtle insults weren't limited to financial status. He'd also make snide digs about her witchly experience - being Muggle-born, intellectual experience - being female, and sexual experience - being Muggle-born and female. All very subtle and incredibly well-crafted insults that seemed like compliments on the surface.
It drove her mad, and she knew that he knew it did. That in itself was infuriating.
Normally, she was above it all. She knew herself to be the better, if poorer, person. She had managed to beat Draco's scores in every class they took, and that was without the benefit of Professor Snape's favor. She had managed to procure an image of moral integrity and was a role model for all young Muggle-borns, but especially the witches. In the eyes of society, she was beyond reproach. That's why she, of all people, had this job.
Of course she was the better person.
But, damn it all, when she was sick, it was hard to remember. When her head was stuffed so tightly that she could barely hear, and her nose was runny but completely blocked, her mouth dry from having to breathe through it, her bones aching just for the hell of it... when all of her body decided to simply break down and thumb its figurative nose at her, then it was hard to remember not to be hurt by Lucius' well-aimed barbs, whether they were subtle or not.
So, of course she was sniffling due to the retched cold, and not anything Lucius might have said. Especially as that had been mild comparatively. Almost friendly, in fact...
Perhaps she looked worse than she thought and she had evoked some pangs of sympathy in the devil's heart?
She shook her head, almost laughing out loud at herself. No. No sympathy from Lucius would ever be felt, let alone forthcoming.
“Why the smile?”
Severus' voice brought her out of her reverie rather abruptly, making her jump just slightly. She looked around and found that he was the only other person in the room. He was now sitting in the chair Draco had occupied, but he was at least relaxing back so as not to block her light.
“Pardon?”
He leaned forward.
“Why the smile? You look like death warmed over, then put in the river to soak, so I imagine you can't be feeling all that well. Lucius said you're so sick you even took the day off. And I know that when I'm feeling like you look, I don't feel much like smiling.”
She blinked as she forced her sluggish mind to process all of Severus' words.
Severus, she had found, was nearly the polar opposite of Lucius. She wondered if the men's friendship was based purely on that parity. While Lucius would pander and flatter his way to power, Severus insulted and bullied. Lucius would make love to people while insulting them subtly, while Severus insulted people to their face, but usually there were underlying compliments. If one looked hard enough. And you weren't Harry. Lucius' loyalty was always questionable at best, while Severus' had been proven, twice or three times over, most definitely. Granted the sides he'd been supposedly 'clearly' loyal to had switched, but then again, obfuscation had been his job.
Lucius looked like Adonis while Severus looked like Hades.
She had found over the course of the past few months that she actually quite liked Severus. He was clever and, in his own bitterly resentful way, good natured, if more than a little reserved. They had chatted and grown to be friends of a sort, but the fact that he was sitting there talking to her in a quite sympathetic and pleasant tone, however, was more than a little astonishing.
It was so astonishing, it startled the truth out of her.
“I was laughing at the absurd notion of Lucius ever feeling the least bit of sympathy for me, no matter how horrid I look.”
Severus snorted. “You underestimate his vanity, Hermione. He values his looks almost more than he values his money, and he assumes everyone else does as well. You really do look a fright, so I imagine he is feeling pangs of sympathy for you, as you've lost what is so dearly important to his own life.”
It was Hermione's turn to snort.
“If you are telling the truth, then it seems far more likely that he's regretting having to look at me than actually feeling sorry for me.”
Severus actually smiled. “Yes, there's that, too.”
Hermione smiled back briefly, before his words sank in and she frowned.
“Well, if I'm such a hideous sight, why are you here looking at me?”
Severus smirked again. “Look at me, Hermione. Do I have any justifiable reason to suffer from vanity as Lucius does?”
Hermione shrugged. “You're not that bad.”
She was surprised when he threw back his head and laughed.
“Words of praise indeed!” he said. Reviewing what she'd said, she realized the implicit insult and blushed, though it made her look rather more mottled than anything.
“I didn't mean it that way,” she muttered, trying to burrow into herself, propping up the book to hide behind.
Severus leaned back in the chair again, but he was still smiling at her. It was most disconcerting, and was making her feel more self-conscious than any of Lucius' remarks would have done. She wondered if that was the point.
“No, I imagine you didn't. You aren't like us, are you?”
“Us?” Hermione asked, feeling her hackles rise. She'd been around the Malfoys long enough to have that blood superiority nonsense get under skin.
“Lucius, Narcissa, myself and, to a lesser extent, Draco. Those of us who have been trained in the art of insulting friend and foe alike, and using subtle gradations to differentiate the two.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a few moments, but found it was hurting her eyes, so she stopped.
“No, I guess I'm not like you. I try not to insult my friends unless they've been utterly stupid and deserve it.”
She rubbed her head, finding that staring at him had given her a headache.
“Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed?”
Hermione shook her head, regretting it as it seemed to spread the headache further into her brain.
“I don't want to be in bed.”
“That's not what I asked, though.”
Hermione looked at him, and found he was regarding her with something that looked like concern. She sighed, half in exasperation and half in pleasure that he was actually concerned.
“Yes, my body would be more comfortable in bed, but my bedroom is the least comfortable place in the Manor, so I'd rather be out here.”
“Where you can get on Lucius' nerves?”
She shot him a quick grin, although stopped with a groan when her cheeks protested.
“That's just a fringe benefit, but yes.”
He chuckled again before leaning forward. “Well, since you're determined to stay here, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
Hermione's jaw dropped.
Yes, she and Severus had been getting along reasonably well in the last few months, and yes she had been fairly sure that he considered her to be someone above 'dunderhead' status, but she'd never thought in a million years that she'd see him so solicitous.
“Why?”
It popped out of her mouth before she could think. She blamed it on the stuffy head overwhelming her mental filters.
He didn't frown, though. He just smirked. “I don't suppose you'd believe I don't like seeing you in such discomfort?”
She shook her head again and winced at the movement. “No.”
He did frown at that. In fact, he stood up and left the room.
Hermione watched him go with wordless dismay. She'd been enjoying their conversation and his company, and then she'd gone and thrown it all away with a bit of ill-timed honesty? She hoped that he would forgive her when she was healthy enough to chase him down and explain that it was the cold talking, and that of course she believed he had basic human emotions and he couldn't possibly blame her for speaking her mind and...
She realized she was babbling in her head and stopped. She realized that she had pushed away the last person she wanted to push away. She realized that she was bloody achy and miserable and no one loved her or wanted to be around her.
"Might as well go eat worms," she muttered.
At that thought, she started sniffling more heavily, and found her eyes needed a bit of wiping as well, but she didn't have a clean handkerchief to wipe them with.
At that, she gave up all pretenses and started crying outright.
“This potion should help,” a voice said behind her. She looked up through waterlogged eyes and saw Severus standing there with a steaming goblet.
“It doesn't have any echinacea in it, does it? I'm allergic,” she asked as she reached out for the cup.
He shook his head with a smug smirk. “No, I doubt you'll have any unpleasant side effects with this one.”
She looked at him curiously, but accepted the cup and drank it all in one gulp. It was rather horrid tasting, but as soon as she had swallowed the last drop, her head started clearing. Her nose was still running like a hosepipe, but she felt ten times better.
She looked in the empty cup in astonishment, then handed it back to Severus who was looking at her with something akin to expectation.
“What was that?”
He smiled again, rather nervously. “Did it work?”
She nodded tentatively, sighing when it was a completely pain-free movement.
“What was it?” she asked again, this time a bit more impatiently. Something about Severus' behavior was making her suspicious.
When he smiled at her again, this time broadly enough to expose some of his yellow teeth, she knew something was up.
“Severus...”
“It was a potion of my own devising,” he admitted with sparkling eyes. “You've just become the first patient to take it.”
Hermione blanched. “You used me as a test subject?”
He tilted his head and frowned. “Do you want to be back in pain? I have the antidote if you wish it to be out of your system.”
Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it again, firmly. She scowled at him for a few moments before trying to speak.
“I would have liked a little foreknowledge. I don't appreciate being used, and I'd think you of all people would understand that!”
His frown turned into a scowl. “Pardon me for trying to help you. I'll refrain from that in the future.”
Hermione was appalled to find that tears were gathering again, and this time she couldn't blame her cold. She sniffed before choking out, “I was happy with your help when I thought you were helping because you wanted to help me, not because I was a handy guinea pig to test your new potion. Silly me thinking you might have liked me and were even flirting with me, what with all your smiling and laughing and maybe you wanted to...”
Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth as words continued coming out of her mouth without her consent. Quickly realizing it was a side effect of the potion, she glared at Severus through her tears and ran off, hand clamped over her mouth to try to muffle the words spewing forth.
Half an hour later and she had finally stopped talking. Her reaction to the potion had been a lot like a Babbling Beverage, only not quite. It hadn't been complete nonsense, but more a purge of her thoughts. Granted, a lot of her thoughts were nonsense to others, but they made sense to her.
Sinking onto her bed, she hung her head in mortification. She didn't know whether she wanted to thank or kill Snape for giving her that brew. She was out of pain, and the only remaining symptom of her cold was her still draining nose, but on the other hand... How dare he use her like that! She could have had an allergic reaction to it, like she had to Pepperup. Yes, he said there wasn't echinacea, but that didn't mean it was safe!
But, the thing that hurt her the most was the thought that he probably had been nice to her only because she was an easy, overly-trusting mark. That hurt.
She conjured a wet washcloth and scrubbed her face. After Severus' descriptions of her, she didn't really want to look in the mirror. She wasn't a vain sort, but looking like a bloated corpse wasn't exactly good for the ego, and her ego had just taken a massive hit.
She held the facecloth in her hand, looking at it morosely. While the potion had cleared up her symptoms, she still felt the icky-blues, as she called them. In fact, she felt more sorry for herself than she had to begin with.
Sighing, she used the facecloth to wipe her nose before banishing it. She picked up her book and was well on the way to making herself as comfortable as the cold room allowed, when there was a knock on the door.
Muttering unflattering things under her breath, she got up and made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Severus standing there looking very tense.
“I'm sorry.”
Hermione might have been surprised at the apology, but she merely leaned against the door. Seeing that she wanted an explanation along with the apology, Severus ran his hand through his hair and started pacing.
“It's true I did want another person to test the potion on, seeing as most people just take Pepperup and are done with it, but that wasn't my only motivation for giving it to you.”
“Another person?” Hermione asked curiously. "You said I was the first."
He shot her a hard look. “I tested it on myself first, of course. You don't think I would give you an entirely untested potion, do you?”
Hermione had the grace to look a bit ashamed of herself. “Not really, no,” she muttered.
Severus was still frowning, but breathed in deeply. “As I was saying, it wasn't my only motivation. I really didn't like seeing you look so miserable, and I knew from your school files that you can't take Pepperup, so I thought that this potion of mine could help.”
“You could have told me what it was, or asked me if I wanted to try it, you know.”
It was Severus' turn to look slightly abashed. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Hermione leaned her head against the door, thinking over what he'd said. She was surprised when he started talking again.
“And I'd also like to apologize for the side-effect.”
Hermione nodded her head but kept her head down and bit her lip. He might not have meant to embarrass her, but he had. Now everything was ruined.
He surprised her again when she felt his finger under her chin, bringing her gaze up to his.
“And I'm sorry you ran off under the wrong impression. I...” He paused, looking a bit awkward. “My timing perhaps could have been better, but you weren't wrong about my reactions to you. I—I've been finding myself rather enthralled with you lately, Hermione.”
His fingers slid along her jaw until his hand was cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed at the feeling of his touch.
Opening her eyes, she found him looking at her with fondness; she smiled up at him. He smiled back at her.
“You knew about the side-effect, didn't you?”
His smile turned a little tense, but he nodded.
“And you were counting on it, weren't you?”
His smile was turning into a grimace as he nodded again.
“You were flirting because you wanted to know what my reaction to you would be once I took the potion.”
He jerked his head forward in a tight nod, his face now an icy mask of indifference that she hadn't seen since her schooldays.
She reached up to touch him on his cheek, smiling as his eyes widened and his face thawed a little.
“Now I see why you didn't just ask,” she said then moved forward to give him a hug. When his arms slowly wrapped around her, she smiled in contentment.
“So maybe someone does like me after all?”
Severus snorted, hugging her a little tighter.
“I assure you that there are better things to eat than worms.”
She hugged him tighter in response, and felt the icky-blues join the rest of her aches far, far away.
