Ties Chapter 28
Chapter 28~ Weary
By the following weekend, Hermione was a wreck. She hadn’t slept well all week and lay awake with restlessness late into the night. When she thought about it she was reminded of her first months at Hogwarts, only worse. Much worse. People whispered about her behind her back and would suddenly stop talking when she approached. Draco Malfoy strutted everywhere he went with an air of superiority and grinned maliciously at her whenever they passed in the halls. Harry, who was thoroughly infuriated with the blonde git’s arrogance, started a fight in the hallway outside of Potions class. Initially spells were thrown at each other, but Harry quickly disarmed his opponent and proceeded to pummel Draco with his fists. None of the Gryffindors particularly felt like stopping Harry and merely blocked the Slytherins from retaliating, though they needn’t have bothered. They made no move to intercept, only looked on in shock as the two boys wrestled on the floor. When Snape had come billowing down the corridor to class, the crowd scattered but Harry and Draco remained oblivious. After all was said and done, each had lost 70 points and earned a weeks worth of detention.
Hermione hadn’t seen or spoken to Severus all week and avoided everyone on the weekend. Closeted in her rooms, she poured over dozens of texts from the library, searching for an independent research topic. Her evening restlessness, however, had carried over into her schoolwork and she was unable to settle upon anything. Ultimately she had given up and gone for a brisk walk around the lake to burn off her aggravation, but it had only served to tire her out. She tried to take a nap to take the edge off of her weariness, but found herself rolling around in bed. She was miserable.
The weekend dragged on interminably and she felt upset with herself for having intentionally skipped her usual Friday evening ritual with Severus. Granted they weren’t speaking and she knew Harry had suffered detention with him that night, but the loss of familiarity stung her. Unable to focus on anything productive, she wondered why she was so bothered by everything. Hermione felt tears threatening again and chastised herself for being so weepy lately. With boys as her closest friends, she had developed a great deal of control over her emotions and usually was able to hold back the waterworks, but lately she seemed unable to do so.
Being critical of herself, she decided it was a simple lack of a proper night’s sleep. No amount of telling herself she needed rest had helped her do so, though. She considered brewing a sleeping draught, but her intellect was still enough for her to know she was too overwrought to make one successfully. Hermione refused to ask Severus and was too proud to see Madam Pomfrey for one.
It was the following Wednesday when she finally cracked.
Professor Flitwick’s Spellcrafting class was held all morning on Wednesdays and had progressed from reworking existing spells to real invention. Hermione sat at her desk with a ripe red tomato and reviewed her notes. Yawning deeply she set her book down and eyed her target. The class had drawn lots for their projects and she was to charm her tomato to resist rot and insects. ‘Simple enough’ she reminded herself and picked up her wand. "Pestis en G-awh-der"
Hermione berated herself for yawning in the middle of something so important and watched in horror as the red fruit grew to the size of a quaffle. Still swelling, the skin began to blister and dimple. She whimpered as everyone turned to look at her big mistake when the tomato, too large and swollen to contain itself, exploded in a burst of juice, pulp and seeds. After a moment of shock, a couple people started laughing and someone patted her on the back, congratulating her on the excellent distraction. She couldn’t tell who it was as her eyes were filled with tears. It wasn’t the only mistake she had made in this class, but at this moment it seemed like a tragedy.
Flitwick quickly cleaned up the mess with his wand and set the other students back to work. The room was noisy once more with chattering and discussion. Hermione leaned forward and hid her face. A hand patted her shoulder but she didn’t look up. "There, there Ms Granger. I have had far worse calamities in my classroom. We’ll try again and I am certain you will get it right."
She mumbled into her arms, "I’m sorry Professor. I wasn’t being careful enough."
Small hands tugged at her shoulders and forced her to sit up. Professor Flitwick studied her closely for a moment and shook his head. "You look positively spent, my dear. Why don’t you take the rest of the class off?"
"No," she shook her head, "I have to get this right. I need to-"
"You need some rest. Come along, I’ll write you a note dismissing you from your other classes today," he told her gently.
"I don’t have any," she sniffled.
He helped her gather her things and guided her out of the room. At the door he said, "Now, no school work, Ms Granger. If you need something to help you sleep, please see Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. Have a good rest."
Hermione mumbled something in response and shuffled off down the corridor, not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her. She was humiliated. If she hadn’t been so completely and utterly exhausted she would have put up more of a fight and tried her charm again, but she just didn’t have the energy. The staircases shifted on her several times, but she wasn’t paying much attention. When she reached her rooms she was startled, having recalled nothing of the journey there.
Inside, her rooms felt empty and she knew it was pointless trying to sleep. It hadn’t worked for the past week. Looking at her watch, she noted there was still another hour of classes this morning. The doorway and staircase down to Severus’ rooms was tempting her at the moment since she knew they would be empty. Dropping her bag, she took her wand and removed the locking charm on the door. After the sleepwalking incident she had kept the door locked to prevent her from wandering out in her sleep again. Not that she had gotten any since.
One or two stairs creaked loudly, causing her to jump, but she reminded herself that Severus had classes all morning and there would be no one there to hear her. At the bottom, she nearly turned around. Why was she doing this anyway? Shrugging her shoulders, she pushed open the door to the private corridor and glanced around. The ornate door at the end was the same as ever and she crept on tiptoe towards it. After a moment she mentally shook herself. There was no need to tiptoe. Cracking the door open, she let out a deep sigh at the sight that greeted her.
A merry fire in the fireplace, a wall full of books, the paintings, the mantle clock, the old armchair and the sofa. She smiled at the sofa, realising she had thought he might have rid himself of it. Crookshanks was curled happily on the rug by the fire sleeping. As she shut the door behind her, she felt the burden of sleepless nights weigh on her even more. A few tentative steps into the room she smiled sadly, noticing the book they had started still sitting where they had left it on the coffee table. An old scrap of parchment was sticking out, marking their place, remembering where they had left off.
Drawing a shaky breath she sat down on the sofa and regarded her surroundings once more. Everything seemed to be exactly where it had been the day she left, though she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. The overwhelming weight of her fatigue settled about her shoulders and she curled up on the cool leather.
"Only for a moment." she mumbled and closed her eyes.
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This morning’s second year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw potions class was more than Severus could stand. It had been twelve days since his misunderstanding with Hermione and each day the incompetents in his classes grated on his nerves more and more. As if supervising a weeks worth of detention with Potter and Malfoy wasn’t bad enough, the second term had begun and the increased difficulty of classes in all year levels had caused several minor disasters in his classroom. A spill in one of the first year classes had dissolved a table, three stools and a distraught young Gryffindor’s shoes. Another incident in his sixth year NEWT class had required the hospitalization of five students when a jar of improperly preserved pickled toadstools had somehow made its way into the student supply cupboard resulting in violent stomach cramps for the individuals required to test what should have been a mild sensory stimulating potion. Granted that particular mistake hadn’t been the fault of the individuals in question. The toadstools looked fine on the outside and the deterioration inside was barely perceptible even to the trained eye, but it was frustrating to have yet another class disrupted.
Today, however, was the truest test of his patience and resolve not to hex a student. Samuel Fields was the single most incompetent student he had ever had the misfortune to teach. Far and away worse than Longbotton, Fields blundered through class with such carelessness and inattention it was a wonder there hadn’t been more serious injuries to his fellow classmates. Unlike the timorous Neville Longbottom who cowered and trembled as he tried desperately to avoid blowing up his cauldron, the young Hufflepuff didn’t seem concerned in the least about his inadequacies. Not arrogant, proud or stubborn, the boy seemed simply to completely shut off higher brain functions when he stepped into the classroom.
Naturally all the other teachers didn’t believe this inherent stupidity, maintaining that ‘young Sam is such a sweet boy.’ They claimed it was some sort of a grudge on his part and Severus had all but written off the entire class. There were certainly capable and intelligent students in the class, but with some crisis every other week at the very least, precious little was ever accomplished. As the only class with assigned partners and seating, Fields seemed not to notice or care that he was the only one without a partner and had a table set apart from the others at the back of the room.
This lesson appeared to be going well for the most part. The several rows of students were quietly chopping ingredients and stirring solutions with great attention. Even the incompetent blunderer appeared not to be causing disaster in the back corner. The stack of homework in front of him was waiting to be marked, but even had it been another class, Severus found it difficult to focus on it. Years of high stress and a dangerous lifestyle had taught him much about the art of working under trying circumstances, but in less than a year all that training had seemed to fly out the window. It just didn’t seem worth the effort to present his usual alert and acerbic front when he was in truth weary and worn out. He wanted to leave Hogwarts more than ever now, and the past twelve days had only emphasised how little he enjoyed being a professor. Yes there were a few things he appreciated, mostly the respect and status that was associated with the job, but it was all far to tiresome now.
Looking out at the class without really seeing it, part of Severus’ mind registered that Fields was adding the porcupine quills to his cauldron. Porcupine quills? This potion didn’t even require porcupine quills. There was a loud hiss and before he could shout at the class to cover themselves the cauldron exploded in a spray of bright green liquid.
By some stroke of good fortune, only a half dozen students were caught in the spray and at that the worst effects appeared to be the rapid growth of curly blue hair wherever the liquid had made contact with skin. Naturally, Fields looked like a bad breeding experiment of Hagrid’s, but the others seemed to be only modestly effected. With great effort, Severus contained his anger and dismissed those with hair to go to the infirmary. The remainder were instructed to hand in their potions and assist in cleaning up the classroom. More than one student sighed in exasperation, but this was a common enough occurrence that the procedure was standard by now.
Ten minutes later, the classroom was set to rights and the remainder of the students excused. It was not quite time for lunch dismissal, but under the anger and frustration he could recognise that they all were suffering from the frequent accidents in class and he let them go. They weren’t going to get any further work done, and he was more than happy to be able to retreat to his rooms for a while and avoid the school in general. In a foul mood, Severus strode down the hallway, slamming the door to the classroom behind him.
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Hermione woke with a start upon hearing a door shut and an angry voice. "Damn Fields, blowing up his blasted cauldron again! Worse than that bloody Longbottom. I thought I wouldn’t have to put up with such incompetence once he was-"
She cringed and could tell Severus had noticed her.
"Hermione?" he paused and regarded her for a moment. "What on earth- has something happened?"
She shook her head and sniffled, unable to answer him. He strode to the sofa and towered over her, watching her intently, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. A long finger reached down to touch her face and traced the dark circles beneath her eyes. His voice was gruff when he spoke again. "You haven’t been sleeping."
"No."
"Is that why you aren’t in class?"
"Yes. Flitwick kicked me out of his class when I blew up a tomato."
"Did he tell you to go to bed?"
"Yes."
"And why aren’t you there?"
"Because I couldn’t sleep."
Hermione felt Severus sit down beside her and heard him let out a deep sigh. "How long?"
She shrugged. "A couple weeks. Does it matter?"
"You are more likely to get sick if you are not getting sufficient rest. I will get you a sleeping potion for now and some pepper up for when you wake," he told her.
She shook her head and stood to leave. "No. I am perfectly capable of making my own. I don’t wish to be a bother. I apologise for coming unannounced. I’ll go."
A firm hand gripped her arm and pulled her back down. "Don’t do this. You know perfectly well that the biggest drawback to preparing your own sleeping potions comes from the fact that they are so precise and complex. Now sit here while I find something appropriate."
A sure sign of how worn down she felt was the fact she didn’t even make a move to leave when Severus disappeared into the back rooms for the potion. When he came back out, Hermione was still sitting upright, but her chin had fallen against her chest. When he sat beside her again she jumped, looking wildly around. He put a hand on her shoulder and patted it gently. "You need to lay down before you take this. It takes effect very quickly."
"I’m sorry," she mumbled.
Strong hands helped her stand and guided her somewhere, but she wasn’t paying much attention. Without even taking the potion she had reached a state of drowsiness that could not be resisted. Cracking one eye, she blearily noted he wasn’t attempting to take her up the stairs to her own rooms. He sat her on the bed and removed her shoes before lifting the covers and ushering her under them. Falling back against the soft pillow she mumbled once more. "I’m sorry."
"Hush," a finger came to her lips, "we can talk after you have rested. I have another class this afternoon."
Closing her eyes, she allowed her weariness to take over and only heard the sound of a jar set down on the night table close to her head and the soft click of the door shutting before falling asleep.
*********
As she woke, Hermione inhaled deeply. Her face was buried in a pillow which she hugged to herself and curled around. Warm and content, she felt like she could drift off again, but resisted when she heard the rustle of a page turning. She sat up, still clutching the pillow and saw Severus sitting on a chair in the corner reading. He looked up from his book and smiled thinly. "Sleep well? I notice you didn’t take the potion after all."
"I suppose a couple weeks without sleep finally caught up with me," she said, blushing.
He closed his book and walked over to the night table to set it down. Hermione noticed she was not on her usual side of the bed, but had for some reason rolled onto the other. Taking another deep breath, she realized the pillow she was holding was Severus’ and that it smelled of him. He sat on the bed beside her, keeping space between them and said stiffly, "My words to you last week were out of line. I apologise."
She looked at him sadly. "I should think more before I speak."
He took her hand on top of the pillow shaking his head slowly. "No, you have every right to be upset. Young Malfoy’s exhibition did more to hurt you than me."
"What happens now?" she asked weakly.
"I don’t grovel well, so-" he shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her. It was soft and undemanding. He reached up to cup her cheek while gently pressing himself into her.
Severus pulled back and looked at her hopefully and she smiled. "I don’t want to go through another couple weeks like these past ones have been."
He shook his head in agreement. "Me neither, though I think it unlikely to have these circumstances replicated precisely."
She nodded silently, at a loss as to what to say, but Severus saved her the trouble. "Would you care to join me for dinner this evening?"
Hermione looked at him for a moment then smiled widely. "Certainly. What time is it anyway?"
"Nearly seven. You slept all afternoon," he informed her.
She arched her back and stretched. "I could go back to sleep right now too."
"I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to be awake all night after sleeping so long, but you needed the rest," he said, standing and offering his hand.
"I have a lot to catch up on too," she said, tossing the pillow to the head of the bed and taking his hand. "Are we through being infuriated with each other?"
He released her hand and pulled her into his arms. "I genuinely hope so."
She nodded against his chest. "Good. I’m tired, hungry and sick of my own company."
Severus smiled into her hair. "I shall see if I can remedy those problems for you."
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Chapter 27
Chapter 29