Sight

Chapter 4

There was no mistaking the lanky hair or the prominent nose. Severus Snape, who had made her cower with fear for at least two years and jump out of her bones with his door-slamming act not a week ago, was spasming on the dungeon floor. Part of her wanted to run, to obliviate him so she wouldn't have to face his inevitable wrath for what she was about to do, but she quieted that part of her mind and slid his arm around her shoulders, hoisting him to his feet. He was all skin and bones, but that didn't mean she didn't almost buckle under his weight. He didn't seem to be fully conscious- perhaps that was why he hadn't hexed her yet.

"Sir? Where are your rooms?"

He mumbled something unintelligible, his head lolling towards her, but she thought there was something about his office in his words. It wasn't like she had much of an alternative, save dragging him to the Hospital Wing, which was on the other side of the school, and she wasn't that strong. Navigating the short distance to his office, she opened the door and deposited him in a chair. Kneeling before him so she was at the same height as him, she took his face in her hands and turned her eyes towards herself. There was still no sign of recognition. This is bad. No, bad doesn't cut it. She wasn't stupid- for Snape to be returning at this hour, it had to be incredibly important business, which would mean the Order or somehow spying on Voldemort. And though he didn't get along with most of the members, there was no good reason he'd return almost unconscious from an Order meeting.

He was shivering, now, sweat pooling on his forehead and muscles twitching.

"Professor? Professor? Can you hear me?"

Dampening a rag from the sink in the corner (thank Merlin he taught Potions, which actually had a lab), she began pressing the cool cloth to his face and neck. After what seemed like a lifetime (though her watch argued it was closer to 15 minutes) he snapped to attention and growled at her.

"Granger? What do you think you're doing?"

She would never understand how he could manage to change moods so quickly, yet alone be so menacing whilst incapacitated.

"I-I- you collapsed..."

"Foolish girl! I would have been perfectly capable of returning to my chambers in an hour. You have no right to be here. Now get out of my sight before-" Before I see what this war does. When will you stop protecting us? His hand flew to his ribs and he doubled over before raising his eyes to meet hers. "Get. Out."

"I can't leave you-"

"NOW!"

But it was too late- she almost dropped her wand as his muscle spasms came back, rendering him incapable of speech- and then they were over, just as quickly as they had began.

"With all due respect, sir, you need medical attention. Now, unless you'd rather I called Madam Pomfrey-"

"No!"

"Look, I'm not leaving you like this. So either you can let me help you, or I can get Madam Pomfrey. It's your choice."

He took in a deep breath. "Okay."

She watched the fight go out of his eyes, and her worry grew. How badly hurt would he be that she still had all her limbs intact and no detention?

"Where are your rooms?"

He gestured to a door behind his desk. Moving to stand up, he stumbled and caught himself on the armrest. This time, she didn't hesitate as she supported his weight, guiding them to the door and watching it open with a flick of his wand.

It was the first time she had entered his rooms, but they weren't so different than what she had expected: sparse but comfortable furniture arranged in a utilitarian fashion, with bookshelves lining the walls. A standard setup for a Hogwarts professor. Helping him sit on the bed, she shed her outer robes and rolled up her sleeves.

A quick diagnostic spell revealed that he had three broken ribs and severe nerve damage- as well as a million other health problems that she couldn't do anything about at the moment. "What happened?"

"None of your business."

"Look, if I don't know what happened, I can't help you."

"I don't want your help. And I'd thank you to remove yourself from my presence. I assure you I won't die in my own rooms."

"Nice try." She lightly poked where his broken ribs were, and he glared at her like he'd want nothing more than to break her ribs. "You know as well as me that healing spells are never as effective when you do them on yourself, even for minor injuries. You can't possibly cure broken ribs on your own." Taking care not to jostle him more than necessary, she removed his cloak and threw it somewhere in the general vicinity of the chair he had next to his wardrobe, before taking up her wand to spell his line of buttons open and charm off his outer robe. Underneath, he had on a white shirt. "Okay, I'm going to have to take this off by hand, it's too close to the broken ribs and I don't want to chance unsettling them and making it worse." Though that's not bloody likely- how did he break his ribs?

She brought her fingers up to his collar and began unbuttoning him, slowly, so as not to disturb any fractures. The shirt was soaked through with sweat, but the skin was cold and clammy where her fingertips touched the dip between his collar bones.

"I am perfectly capable of completing the task myself, Granger" Snape hissed as he swatted away her hands and tried to unbutton the next button. His fingers shook, preventing him from even grasping the object, and he clenched his fists, bowing his head as his whole body tensed.

"Let me." She pried his hands from the shirt, encircling them in her own as she lowered them to rest them on the bed-

In a split second, he jerked his arms out of grip and sprang to his feet, causing her to jump back. "STOP! You have no idea what you're doing, Granger! You want to know what I was doing tonight? I was kneeling at Voldemort's feet-"

"I gathered as much-"

"I WAS TORTURING CHILDREN! MUGGLEBORN CHILDREN! So take your pathological need to take care of people and go comfort your friends, because tomorrow morning they're going to be missing neighbors, brothers, sisters- AND IT'S MY FAULT! How's that for what happened tonight? Happy now? It could have been your family, and I would have done it- WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET OUT-!"

"SHUT UP!" Both their chests heaved with every breath. She couldn't believe she had just yelled at a professor- at Snape. Neither could he, apparently, because his ordinarily icy eyes held total shock, and his breath came in short gasps. The outburst had taken its toll. "Do you take me for stupid? I know what Voldemort's capable of. I know you're a Death Eater. I know what you have to do and the toll it must take and that you're wearing yourself too thin and that you need those ribs healed and nerves looked at. I'm not particularly interested if you want me to do it or not. Now sit down, shut up, and tell me why you look like you tortured yourself along with those children." Great. Now he would know that she had overheard their conversation with Dumbledore. 'Wearing yourself too thin'? You might as well have called him 'my boy'. And more likely than not, he was going to make her life a living hell when he came to his senses. The things I do for the Order.

To her amazement, he sat back on the bed, and didn't say anything when she went back to his buttons.