When Hermione Fights

In The Snake's Shadow

Chapter beta: the darling Dani

Chapter translator: Aivy

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I couldn't remember lying down on the couch when I felt myself getting rudely shaken awake, an overly tired and pale-faced Draco looking down at me.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's five o'clock now; I cannot keep my eyes open any longer." He rubbed his reddened eyes.

"What? You should have woken me up at four!" I jerked upright and got up, still clad in the far too wide shirt, and began vigorously to roll up my sleeves.

"I couldn't! You looked so peaceful in your sleep!" he apologised sweetly. We exchanged places and I tucked him in conscientiously.

"Oh, Draco, that's so sweet of you!" I kissed his forehead like he always did with me, and stroked his white hair. He gave me a faint smile and closed his eyes tiredly. Apparently, his night had been filled with work before he went looking for me.

I re-entered the dark bedroom, spotting Snape under the black sheets, which emphasized his unnatural paleness from being injured all the more. I stepped up to him and put a hand on his forehead, inhaling worriedly. He seemed to have a slightly raised temperature and hence I called the next load of potions and climbed back into the bed to administer the vials.

After my work was done, I brushed his long, black hair out of his hot forehead and looked down at him with concern.

"Professor, that has been nothing for you... Don't cause sorrow for Draco and me, otherwise you'll have to deal with me, sir!" I whispered encouragingly to him and meant it as well, while I got up and put the empty vials on the bedside table. I pulled the blanket from his chest down to his waist to see how the sutured wounds were healing and crawled back onto the top of the large bed. Why did a single person need such a bed? I felt lost in its vastness! Apparently, he liked to sleep generously.

I fished the jar of essence from the other bedside table - yes, he had two - and now knelt down next to the sleeping Snape and ran my finger along the jagged, uneven suture. Actually, he had a smooth chest, like Draco, I noticed in passing when I examined him closely, only his chest showed that he had already experienced a war. Here and there ran fine, white lines, small scars that documented his active participation! And his new wounds would also leave their marks. Just like with my knife, scars would remain, even with magic.

But the sutures looked good. There were some secretion and a little bit of blood which had leaked, but the healing progressed rather quickly. I generously distributed ointment on them, touching him as intensively and gently as never before. He was really very pale and thanks to his dark hair that was even more apparent than with Draco, but both couldn't be called hairy. I was so engrossed in my work that I did not register the dark eyes focussed on me, even as I completed my treatment of his chest and stomach.

When I tilted my head back, shaking my hair slightly and arching my back to shake the stooping posture out of my limbs, I first felt the distinct sensation that I was being watched. I quickly turned my gaze to him and stared into his expressive eyes, which had the gift to say all or nothing!

I was really startled. I had not expected him to wake up right at that moment when he was naked to his hips and with me kneeling before him with nothing on but a rolled-up shirt of him, and Draco deep asleep on the couch in the other room.

Wasn't I just so lucky again? Why the hell couldn't he open those glittering obsidians when his beloved godson was there? Why did it have to be while I worked on him, applying the ointment to his wounds far too gently, tenderly and sensitively? I was sure that he had closely followed and registered everything, every reaction, every action of mine.