Sight

Chapter 5

She pulled the shirt out of his slacks and finished unbuttoning it, gently sliding it off his shoulders. "Facilitate sanitatem" she muttered, bringing her hands together and directing her charm at them. While minor injuries could be healed directly through a wand, more serious breaks, especially those taking place around the vital organs, required the healer to direct her magic through her hands, guiding the bones and tissue into place. He winced slightly as she placed her hands on his ribs, concentrating on the feel of the bone beneath his skin, channeling her magic to knit the fractured material back together. His skin was as white as the shirt he had been wearing, displaying quite a few scars- some obviously years old, some more recent. She didn't know how he had managed to accumulate so many, but it wasn't playing quidditch. Proper magical healing prevented scars, unless the wounds were cursed. Then again, if his behavior now was anything to go by, she didn't think getting properly healed was high on his list of priorities.

"It was Cruciatus, wasn't it? That's what the nerve damage is from."

"Yes."

"How long?"

"I don't know. I never do."

"Isn't there a- a potion or something that can help with the side effects?" It was a stupid question- she already knew there wasn't anything specific to the Crutiatus. Nerve damage in general she could deal with, but the only thing that would be effective immediately was a warm shower and some soothing tea.

"I think you know the answer to that question, Miss Granger."

"Can- can I ask why?"

"It certainly wouldn't be the most intrusive thing you've done tonight."

"Did you do something to anger him?"

"The Dark Lord? No. However, he felt... he needed confirmation of my loyalty."

"So he tortured you?"

"Yes. There's no need to look so shocked; it's not as if it's a rare occurrence."

"I-I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at the Potions Master, hunched on his bed in nothing but his slacks, exhausted and shivering. At that moment, he looked more human than she'd ever seen him. She was seized by an unexplainable urge to tuck him in, but that was about as likely as Hagrid taking a desk job.

"You should get some sleep, sir."

"Perhaps. You should go, Miss Granger." For the first time that night, it wasn't filled with venom.

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"Earth to Hermione?"

"Oh, sorry, Ron."

"No problem. Sickle for your thoughts?"

"Um, you know, the usual..."

Her thoughts couldn't be further from the usual- she had spent the last five minutes eyeing Snape as he sat picking at his breakfast at the staff table. She had expected him to look like death warmed over, but he was his usual self, which made her wonder just how used to this he was. They hadn't had any Potions lessons that day, and Hermione was thankful for it, because while Snape had certainly needed her help last night (well, technically it was that morning), she fully expected to be rewarded with detention the next time they crossed paths. She continued to mull over the subject as the walked back to Gryffindor tower. He had come back with broken ribs- and said Cruciatus wasn't a rare occurrence. Which all begged the question-