Redemption

15

I woke up groggy. My eyes were difficult to open, seemingly weighed down by something. My throat was swollen, and my nose was congested. Immediately, I knew I was sick. I hated being sick. I felt totally incompetent for a week, moping around drinking tea from a large mug, and carrying tissue boxes wherever I went.

A comforting thought came to me. We were in the wizarding world, they had potions to cure colds and such. Potions...

Where was I supposed to be?

My eyes fluttered open and I sat up straight as a board. I felt a cold hand on my forehead, and another on my shoulder, pushing me back down. What the hell?

The freezing hands finally left me, so I decided to sit up again. This time I did so slowly so as not to alarm anyone. I was looking up at Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. I offered them both a weak smile. Minerva shook her head, her lips pressed into a tight line.  I observed my surroundings, I was in the hospital wing.

Uh oh.

I looked down at my hands in my lap. They were paler than usual. Curious. I parted my lips to speak and laughed at how cracked it was. "What have I done this time?"

I couldn't help the giggles that escaped me. I sounded like a prepubescent boy. Madam Pomfrey sighed and checked my forehead again. Merlin, her hands were icy. She met McGonagall's eyes briefly, and turned to her office.

The Headmistress echoed the nurse's sigh. "What are we to do with you, Miss Granger?"

I cocked my head to the side, frowning. What had I done? "You haven't answered my question." I rasped.

The healer came back and handed me a glass of water, which I gratefully accepted. My throat was dryer that a desert. "That's enough chitchat. Severus should be back soon with the remedy."

I hung my head shamefully. He was going to chew me out the moment he had the opportunity. I was starting to regret my brash words and thoughtless ideas. It had been really stupid on my part. Really impulsive.

The man in black strode into the room, placing all sorts of phials on the nightstand next to the cot I was sitting in. He glanced at me quickly, surprised to see me awake. "Ah, she's conscious." He muttered. "Terrific."

Sometimes, I wanted to strangle him. And he called me insufferable.

Minerva sent him a disapproving look. "Now, now. Mind your tone, Professor Snape. It happens to everyone sooner or later."

He raised an eyebrow. "Being sent to the infirmary for losing consciousness due to heat loss because they wouldn't heed their teacher's advice and wear a proper cloak? Ah yes. Everyone." He mumbled sarcastically, arranging the bottles in a specific order. "I do believe you are quite correct in that assessment, Headmistress."

She rolled her eyes. Clearly, she was unimpressed with the Potions' Master's attitude. He was being very childish. It wasn't like him. I looked up to see his face and squeaked. He was giving me the dirtiest look I'd seen in years. Well, you know what they say... If looks could kill.

If they could, I'd have died, come back to life, only to die again. Repeatedly.

He smirked, pleased with my reaction. "Drink them all from left to right. Afterwards, head down to your rooms to prepare yourself for supper. We will discuss the rest of the evening's plans then."

I nodded and crossed my arms across my chest, hugging myself. Merlin, I was freezing. He seemed to notice and approached me, removing his robes and wrapping them around my shoulders like a blanket. I offered him a small smile in thanks, to which he did not reply. Snape met my eyes a moment, something flashing in his own. Before I could look into it, it had disappeared.