Vivien's Vault Home|Vivien's Harry Potter Fanfiction|Regaining Index
Regaining by Vivien
Chapter 13: Rebellious
Rebellious - 1. resisting authority. 4. in medicine, difficult to treat.
Author's Note: Just have to mention a great resource book I've been using for the whole story. The Herb Book by John Lust has the best information on the traditional uses of more herbs than you can shake a wand at. It's been really helpful. Ergot is actually a migraine remedy, but it's very dangerous to use.
Hermione returned to school in an excellent state of mind. She promised to keep her parents updated regularly on how well she was doing. She was convinced she would finally push through the difficulty she was having and get back to grade level work in Transfiguration and Charms soon. She was eager to start her full schedule of courses. In addition to meeting with Professor Snape on Mondays and Thursdays, she would now have tutoring for thirty minutes with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick on Tuesdays and Wednesdays respectively.
She had made a difficult choice over the break which she hoped would help her busy schedule. She intended to resign as Prefect. She hoped she could still keep her private room, since Lavender and Pavarti showed no desire to be parted from the room they shared. One less responsibility would be a good thing, and she hoped it wouldn't look too badly on her record once she started her post-Hogwarts job search. Although at this point, Hermione had no idea what to do when finished Hogwarts. She knew what she couldn't do. A career as an Auror or an Unspeakable was clearly out of the picture. She knew what she didn't want to do. She didn't want to work as a clerk, a secretary, or as anything having to do with Quidditch. She figured she'd have some time to worry about it later.
Severus returned to school in a sour state of mind. It took roughly three class periods before he broke his new year's resolution to be less cruel to his students. 'But really,' he grumbled to himself, 'I can't be expected to smile and pat idiot children on the back when they wreak havoc in my classroom.' The resolution had gone down in flames when a Gryffindor third year, while trying to avoid a joke hex from a classmate, had bumped a large vial of dragon's blood off a shelf. It had crashed to the floor before Severus had been able to bring out his wand. A year's supply had seeped into the stone floor. Dragon's blood was very expensive, and as it began congealing, the thought of his classroom budget being squandered through this act of tomfoolery had been all it took to forget any notion of magnanimity. At least he had someone to disembowel horned toads and pickle scorpion brains for a full month now.
Severus had also hit a brick wall in his research of the Leeching Elixir. He had poured through every volume that could possibly relate to Hermione's symptoms, hiding potion ingredients, or identifying potion ingredients.
Amsterdam would have to be his next destination. He would have to apply for a clearance through both the English and Dutch Ministries, as he realized his search would have to continue in the Dark Magic archives. Amsterdam's research facilities were the only non-private libraries in Europe that had such an archive, but it was incredibly restricted.
Severus frankly doubted that he would be granted permission to enter with his background, but he was going to try. He was excited about the possibility of visiting the archive. He was also a little terrified. He almost hoped his application would be denied, because the lure of the Dark Arts was strong. He had been addicted to it when he was a Death Eater. Kicking that habit had been hard and painful, and upon reflection, he understood better Agent Cronin's treatment of him. Helping Hermione was his responsibility, and he would risk exposure to Dark Magic when or if the time came.
Resuming Hermione's healing sessions had helped soothe his mind that first wretched day of class. She had been full of energy and optimism, which were usually combinations that annoyed him beyond belief in most humans in general. However, he thought her mood was quite... welcome. He had been pleased today to see her whip through a series of review charms with no pain or difficulty. She had been overjoyed with her success. During her usual break, she had told him what had she'd done over her holidays, and he found he didn't mind listening to her chatter as he sipped his tea. He was glad that she'd discovered her parents would be allies in her travails. Severus knew what not having parental care and support was like. The Grangers seemed pretty sensible, for Muggles.
After the break, he continued with Charm work. She was performing new charms that were at fifth year level. He could tell she was fibbing when she said there was no pain at all - he had seen her grit her teeth briefly during a Reducing charm. However she seemed to be in excellent shape afterwards. Transfiguration would be not be as easy, he was certain. He was planning on coordinating both of her independent studies, and he was glad she would get more support with that particular subject. When they finished, Hermione left the classroom with a bounce to her step. Severus hoped that she was over the worst.
Thursday came and Hermione was starting to experience a little weariness. She was sneaking in a cat nap during lunch each day; the restful condition from the holidays had burned off almost completely. She'd brought chocolate covered espresso beans from home, and she was eating a few during the early afternoon when her eyes most wanted to close. They helped a little, especially now that her afternoons were longer with her extra tutoring sessions.
Mostly, her mood was fine even though Transfiguration class was frustrating. Professor McGonagall would not allow her to attempt any of the actual Transfigurations. Luckily her class only contained fellow Gryffindors, and they made a point of not commenting on her lack of participation. She was working at a purely theoretical level, and what the class was studying was fascinating. It made her fairly frantic to watch everyone else practicing while she took notes from her text. Charms class was better. She still wasn't up to the current level of ability, but she was closing the gap. She was allowed to attempt one charm per class, at least.
"Good afternoon, Professor. How are you today?" Hermione had noticed that Professor Snape had been almost cordial to her on Monday. She rather liked that. Of course, it might've been because he'd had an off day.
"Well enough, Miss Granger," Severus replied, watching her closely for signs of pain and fatigue. "How are you feeling?"
"You know, if I had a knut for every teacher who asked me that, I'd be quite well off by now." Hermione slung her satchel onto the work table, smiling. "I'm fine. A little bored in class since I can't actually do anything yet, but other than that things are super." Severus raised an eyebrow.
"No really, I'm feeling good," Hermione protested under his scrutiny. "Okay, I am starting to get a little tired at the end of the day, but it's not anything out of the ordinary. I haven't had any headaches or nosebleeds."
"If you say so, Miss Granger," said Severus. "But you will tell me if these symptoms reoccur, correct?"
"Yes, Sir, I will," said Hermione wearily, "but I'm hoping they won't come back. I'm feeling much stronger than I have for a long time. Charms tutoring is going so well - did Professor Flitwick tell you I'm halfway through fifth year material?"
"He did, and I'm as pleased as you are at the news," he said, his lips curling in the slightest of smiles. "Shall we begin? I'd like to do another brain scan to see how your healing is progressing."
"No problem," she said cheerily, "I even brought my own quill to levitate."
Moments later Hermione saw a beautiful thing. The brain scan showed more magical energy flowing through her damaged left side than ever before. There were still many barren patches, but there were thicker streams flowing over the entire parietal region now. Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth so she wouldn't scream in excitement. She looked at Professor Snape, who was actually smiling.
"This looks most promising," he said. "Some significant healing has taken place in the last couple of weeks. Most probably it was due to having a long break from magic." He paused for a moment, and then frowned. "Perhaps we should reconsider your course of treatment. It might be better for you to take more time away from school and magic."
"Oh no, I'm not taking more time off," said Hermione determinedly. "I've lost enough time as it is. And besides, I've been doing magic all week, including Charms, and I'm still healing."
Severus didn't answer. On one hand, Hermione was a driven student who would not do well being held back, even to give her brain time to heal unencumbered. She had been performing well this week, and she was showing an impressive amount of improvement. Everything in his research of brain injury had pointed to continuous rehabilitation as an appropriate course of treatment. On the other hand, more total rest might be just what she needed. He would have to consult with Dumbledore. "I think we should proceed very slowly. I don't want you to further injure yourself because you're pushing too hard. I think perhaps I was premature in letting you resume your full class schedule."
"Oh, now really, Sir, this is ridiculous," sputtered Hermione. "I mean to say, I feel fine. I'm doing my work with no problem. I'm getting better, for Merlin's sake. Please don't hold me back."
"Miss Granger, you seem to forget that I am the adult in this situation," Severus said, eyes flashing. "If I say we send you home for the rest of term to heal, that is what will be done. I will do what is necessary for you to recover."
Hermione took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. She would have to show Snape how well she was since he obviously wasn't going to take her word for it. "I appreciate your concern, Sir. Can we at least finish this session before you come to a decision? I was eager to try some new visualization techniques to complement the Supero charm."
Severus hesitated a moment to think. A review of already mastered Transfigurations surely wouldn't hurt. He wasn't about to risk a relapse until he could do more research. He made a mental note to write the Healer at St. Mungo's for advice as well. "Very well, let's do a third year review. Transfigure this stick into an earthworm." He conjured a small stick onto the table before her.
This time Hermione raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "I mastered that ages ago. Do you really want to waste my time with this? I could at least do the turtle into a teakettle - I need the practice."
"Not as yet, Miss Granger," snapped Severus, "unless you want to take the full responsibility for a set back."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh all right. I'll turn the stupid stick into an earthworm. Ooh, I hope I don't damage myself," she said snidely. She couldn't believe this. He was treating her like she was a weak invalid.
A thought suddenly came to her. What if she tried something new, something harder instead? He wouldn't know until she'd finished, and that would show him how much better she was. She had been toying with the idea of trying some conjuring on her own anyway. At the beginning of the year, the class had conjured small objects like feathers and handkerchiefs out of thin air, and now they were conjuring more complex things like cushions and goblets. She decided to conjure a handkerchief. That would show him.
She slipped into a state of intense concentration, visualizing every aspect of the plain, white handkerchief she wanted to bring forth. She cast Supero with her wand, and then pointed it into the air. The moment she summoned it to appear, she felt a rip of intense pain scream through her head, overwhelming her senses. She caught a glimpse of a nearly transparent square of cloth floating in the air, and then she saw nothing but blackness.
Severus knew the moment she'd pointed her wand in the air that something was going to go terribly wrong. He didn't have time to react, although he should've seen this coming. She'd been so sure of herself and her capabilities today, and he could tell she'd wanted to prove something. As she was murmuring the words of summoning, he had reached for his wand, but he was too late. He vaulted over the table and caught her as she crumpled to the floor. The not quite fully realized handkerchief fluttered down to rest on Hermione's face where it rapidly turned a shocking scarlet. Hermione was out cold and a sickening rush of blood issued from her nose.
Severus scooped her limp form into his arms and rushed to the fireplace. As he was running, he managed to point his wand towards her nose and cast a Halting charm. The blood stopped flowing, but he could already feel his robes soaking with it.
"Merlin deliver her," he muttered. Pointing his wand at the hearth, he cried, "Incendio!" and made a mental note to always keep the fire burning from now on. He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and yelled "Hospital Wing!" Hermione stirred in his arms, as he stepped into the fire.
Hermione was aware of being carried as the blackness lifted slightly. She wasn't sure where she was going or who was carrying her or even why, but she felt safe. Whoever held her in strong arms had a comforting smell of herbs and spices. She had barely registered this impression when she was whirled back into the dark.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" cried a surprised Madame Pomfrey as Severus stepped through her hearth carrying a large bundle of robes. The Floo network for the Hospital Wing was reserved for only the most serious injuries. She quickly discerned that the bundle of robes was a bleeding student, and she sprang into action, summoning a hospital bed.
Severus gently placed Hermione onto the bed. "Miss Granger thought she would show me how much better she was feeling by performing a Transfiguration she was not ready to attempt. I fear she might have seriously injured herself. Would you please bring me the Excruciare Antidote?"
"Severus, I don't think that's appropriate," said Madame Pomfrey, startled. She had been taking Hermione's pulse which was weak, but steady. "We should try a willow bark or ergot based pain reliever fir- "
"No," he snarled, "She needs the antidote now. If you won't get it for me, I shall find it myself."
"Severus, you would do well to remember that I am the one who trained as a Healer," said Madame Pomfrey standing her ground. "Do your really want to risk the complications of the Excruciare when the child is already weakened?"
"But she'll be in such pain when she awakens," Severus said softly, looking down at Hermione's prone form.
Madame Pomfrey realized how rare concern for a student - well, for anyone besides Dumbledore - was for Severus, so she continued gently. "Severus, you know that the Excruciare is primarily used to ease the dying into the world beyond. It is immensely powerful, and it does kill pain, but I don't think Hermione is near death. Do you?" Severus shook his head. "I will give her the strongest ergot-based pain reliever I have, as well as a strong Soothing charm. She'll sleep for a day or so, and when she awakens, she'll feel much better. She's been through worse, and you didn't ask for the Excruciare then. She doesn't need it now." She brought out a vial from the locked medicine cabinet and then magically scooted the bed into place, pulling privacy curtains around it. "Now, I know you care deeply for the child, but you must let me tend to her."
"I don't care deeply for her," snapped Severus, without thinking. "I'm in charge of her recovery. I'm responsible for her."
"Whatever you say, dear," said Madame Pomfrey. "Why don't I give you a Soothing charm, as well."
Severus responded with a scowl. Madame Pomfrey administered the medicine to Hermione, performed the Soothing charm, and settled her under the blankets. She then headed for her office to log the time and nature of admittance. As she passed Severus, she shoved a piece of chocolate into his hand.
'The Excruciare is a bit extreme,' he admitted grudgingly to himself, as he nibbled on the chocolate, watching Hermione sleep. He dearly hoped that her brain, as well as her positive attitude, wouldn't be damaged when she awoke.
Peering through her barely slitted eyelids, Hermione thought that her bedroom was strangely bright. She must've overslept, but she didn't really have the energy to care right now. Well, she'd skip class just this once. She pulled the blankets snugly around herself and fell into a strange dream. She was trying to pick up her wand, but every time she tried, she'd drop it. It was either too hot or prickly with thorns or slippery. No matter how hard she tried to hold it, she couldn't. She could see Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall in the shadows of the dark room in which she stood. They were whispering and looking very stern and disapproving. After she dropped her wand because it was stinging her hand like a wasp, Professor McGonagall pointed at her and said, "That's it. I've seen enough. Go home, Muggle. You don't belong here." Hermione shrieked and sat up.
It took a moment to realize she wasn't in her bedroom. She was confused, and her head was full of throbbing, scratchy cobwebs. Her body ached like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to every muscle.
'Damn it,' she thought, befuddled. 'I'm back in the Hospital Wing. What happened?' And then the memory of the attempt at the Transfiguration came back to her. She fell back on her pillows, furious with herself. She'd been so confident it would work. Too confident, she guessed.
Madame Pomfrey walked past the privacy curtains and came to Hermione's bedside. "Good morning, dear, how are you feeling?" she said, feeling Hermione's forehead and then checking her pulse.
"Miserably," Hermione said weakly. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Let's see," she replied, "You were brought in at 4:30 Thursday afternoon. It's 9:00 in the morning of Friday. You only slept through one night. Professor Snape wants me to record your rating of the headache pain."
"He does? Ugh... I'm sure I'll never hear the end of this," said Hermione, "Tell him it's about a seven. It hurts."
"Well, dear, from what I understand, I'd be surprised if it didn't," said Madame Pomfrey. "Would you like some breakfast?"
The thought of food made Hermione's stomach rumble, but then a wave of nausea swept coldly through her. "Maybe a piece of buttered toast, please. I'd like some ice water."
"I'll send for it," she said, pouring Hermione a glass of water. "Oh, you had an owl from your parents; here is their note. Would you like to read it now?"
Sweet Circe, she did not want to read anything from her parents, even if it was encouraging. She felt ashamed and foolish about her actions, and she didn't want to think about them just yet. Besides, she didn't think she could focus on the words. "I'll read it later," she said. "Could the toast wait, Madame Pomfrey? I think I want to sleep a little more instead."
"Of course, Hermione. I have your Magnifying potion - you mustn't skip a dose. I want you to drink some water as well."
Hermione drank the contents of the vial and then sipped the ice water slowly. "Did anyone tell Harry and Ron I was here?" she asked."Oh, they came and found you straight away," said Madame Pomfrey. She took Hermione's empty glass and tucked her back under the blankets. "Now then, get some more sleep. Professor Snape will be back to check on you when you wake up again."
Hermione grimaced. She imagined he'd be prepared to give her a world class scolding after this. Hopefully, he wouldn't take any points from Gryffindor away over this mistake. She snuggled under the covers and had a flash of being swiftly carried in someone's arms. She opened her eyes wide. Had that been Snape? "Madame Pomfrey?" she called.
The Matron looked around the privacy curtains. "What is it, my dear?" she said.
"Who brought me to the hospital wing?" Hermione asked.
"Why, Professor Snape, dear. He carried you through the Floo network straight from the dungeons."
"Um.. That's what I thought," mumbled Hermione, remembering how safe and protected she'd felt in his arms. She closed her eyes. 'Maybe he won't be too angry with me after all,' she thought before sliding into a peaceful sleep. 'He probably would've used Mobilicorpus if he was really mad.'