Chapter Text
Hermione
The icy drink in her hand was the only thing keeping her from throwing up in the middle of Slughorn’s Christmas party. She didn’t know if it was from the effort to avoid her ill-chosen date, McLaggen, the loud stuffy room, or if she was coming down with the flu, but the sweat beading at the back of her neck definitely wasn’t the norm for her.
The evening had started off fine. Her decision to make Ron jealous wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should have been. She knew she didn’t even like him anymore, anyway. But at least she got to have some good food and drinks and talk to some interesting people. The vampires were particularly fascinating as a few of them offered first-hand accounts of what she had read about in Hogwarts: A History.
Other professors were there as well, and it was always wise to get more face-time with them. They would write her recommendations next year, after all.
The only professor she hadn’t greeted yet was Professor Snape. He had been broodier than normal, hovering near the edge of the room. He wore his normal robes, a sign that he really wasn’t interested in networking or making friends with anyone in attendance. Not that he needed to. He was already a highly accomplished potions master and an incredibly important member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Despite his plain clothes, he looked better than everyone else in the room. Hermione had known he was much bigger than most others, but it was always interesting to see him among other people his age and how much he stood out. Not that she had been keeping tabs on him. He was just hard not to notice.
Even if he hadn’t left, dragging Malfoy out of the room like he weighed nothing, she wouldn’t be able to talk to him, anyway. She felt worse and worse with each passing minute. There was no way she’d approach Professor Snape when there was the potential of her throwing up on him.
Hermione tried to smile at the man in front of her, nodding like she was paying attention. He had introduced himself as someone who worked in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She would normally be thrilled to talk to someone with such an interesting career, but at that moment, she was mostly focused on disengaging from the conversation without being rude.
“…I wish it were more glamorous, but we mostly just deal with accidental magic from underaged kids,” he said with a sigh.
Hermione swallowed, trying not to make it look too obvious that she was looking for Harry. She hadn’t seen him since before Filch showed up with Malfoy, but she’d like to let him know she needed to leave.
“Are…are you still underaged?” the man asked.
Hermione’s eyes snapped back to him to find his gaze trailing down her body. She grimaced. “Yes,” she said, lying through her teeth. She had been seventeen for several months. “And it’s way past my bedtime too, I’m afraid. Good evening.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and headed out of the room.
Once out in the empty hallway, the conversations from the party became silenced behind the closed door. Only a few of the hanging lamps were actually lit, but the darkness eased the headache building around her forehead and sinuses.
Hermione took a steadying breath and performed a cooling charm on herself. It barely did anything. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and began walking. If she could just get back to her dorm, she could sleep it off, whatever it was.
She made it halfway to the main stairwell when she heard shouting. It was far enough away she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Normally, Hermione would go investigate, but her vision was becoming more blurry by the minute.
Instead, she stopped, taking a break, and leaning against the cool stone in the hallway. Just like the cooling charm, it offered little relief.
She pushed her hair out of her face. What is going on with me?
Hermione had felt fine before the party. It wasn’t until she got into the room that she had felt unwell. Her mind wandered to the unfortunate incident of being under the mistletoe with McLaggen. She blinked, thinking about his forwardness. Was it possible he slipped something into her drink? Or could one of the other men there have done something of the sort?
Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway. She glanced over just in time to see Malfoy storm past. For once, he didn’t bother with a nasty quip. If anything, he seemed pale and unwell, too.
Only a few seconds later, Professor Snape went by her field of vision.
She tried to strand straighter, but her legs buckled. She kept herself upright, somehow, still leaning against the wall that no longer felt cool.
He looked like he was going to continue past her, following Malfoy, but then he stopped, glancing back at her.
Her eyes snapped to his, and she didn’t seem able to look away, despite the slight blurring in her vision.
He frowned, breaking the eye contact to look her up and down. “Miss Granger, have you been drinking?”
“No, Professor.”
He lifted a brow, as if waiting for her to continue. Normally she would have, but the nausea was getting worse.
He glanced toward the direction Malfoy had run off to, then back at her. “If you’re unwell, go to the hospital wing.”
She nodded, but stopped as the room spun. “I think…I think someone put something in my punch,” she whispered.
Snape’s jaw clenched. “Marby,” he said. A second later, a house-elf popped into existence.
“Yes, Professor Snape?” Marby said.
“Please bring Miss Granger to the hospital wing. Have Madam Pomfrey check her for poisons. I’ll be there once I handle another issue.”
The house-elf nodded so fast her little ears flopped. “Yes, sir. Right away.”
Professor Snape spared her another glance before leaving in the direction Malfoy took.
Hermione frowned as his robes flowed from behind his broad shoulders. At least he took her concern seriously, though it was probably because she was Muggleborn. It wasn’t too unrealistic that someone would want to hurt her, considering everything happening.
Marby took her hand, and in a split second, they were under the bright lights of the infirmary.
Hermione’s vision swirled worse than before. The rows of white beds twisted and turned.
Everything was too bright. Acid lined her throat as she fell to her knees. She threw up everything in her stomach straight onto the tile floor. The smell made her gag and dry heave again.
Marby snapped the evidence of her sickness away as Madam Pomfrey hustled towards them. Hermione closed her eyes before the dizziness came back.
“What has happened?” the woman asked.
Hermione’s stomach rolled again as she was magically lifted onto the closest bed. Her head pounded within her skull.
“Professor Snape said to check her for poisons,” Marby said. “And that he would be here momentarily.”
“Goodness,” Madam Pomfrey muttered.
Hermione’s skin tingled as a diagnostic spell appeared above her.
“Can you tell me what you’re feeling, deary?”
“Nausea, feverish, dizzy,” Hermione muttered out, another wave of warmth rushing over her. It was getting to where she’d rather just take a dive in the lake than wait for someone to do something about it. “I was perfectly fine two hours ago.”
Another ripple ran over her skin and another diagnostic appeared over her.
Madam Pomfrey seemed to hum to herself as she considered the results. “Let’s get you into a hospital gown and cooled down and we’ll run a few tests.”
Hermione wanted to ask about the diagnostics, but her body wanted to throw up more. What other tests needed to be run?
With a swish of Madam Pomfrey’s wand, Hermione’s dress robes turned into a lighter cotton fabric. She did some other spell that made it feel like a cool breeze was running over her body.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed into the firm mattress.
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you any pain or nausea potions until we know what we’re dealing with,” Madam Pomfrey said, tapping the vein on her arm. “Slight prick.”
Hermione winced as the woman drew a small stream of blood from her arm and put it in a glass vial.
“Just rest while I run a few tests.”
Hermione just nodded and rolled over. Her muscles were getting feverishly sore. Closing her eyes, she wished herself to sleep. Maybe everything would be better soon.
Severus
After chasing the infuriating Draco Malfoy down and reiterating that he’d better not do anything else stupid to get them killed, Severus was finally able to head back down to the hospital wing.
He had seen sickly students before. He had even seen Hermione Granger, specifically, in various states of unwell, ranging from being petrified, getting polyjuiced into a cat, to getting sliced by Dolohov’s curse.
Severus would have guessed all those situations would have desensitized him to seeing Miss Granger unwell, but that was proven wrong when he had set his eyes on her in the dark hallway outside of Slughorn’s party.
She had looked smaller than usual. Not that she was large, but he didn’t realize what good posture she had until she was nearly falling against the wall, shoulders curved in, looking like she wished she could just disappear into nothingness.
There was also the matter of her normally out-spoken demeanor, which made her seem bigger than she was. The quiet Granger was disturbing. Unsettling. Small and meek. Very unlike her, and thus reason for serious concern.
Unfortunately, the young Malfoy getting into trouble and threatening to kill Severus himself because of the Unbreakable Vow was slightly more pressing at that moment.
Fortunately, her issue was probably easily remedied.
She had said she thought someone might have put something in her drink, and he didn’t think that it was too far out of the realm of possibilities. He had seen the way eyes followed her as she scurried around the party, avoiding her date and talking with Potter and Longbottom. Slughorn was friends with a number of disgusting people. The wizard didn’t care if they were lecherous, only that they were powerful.
Because of his need to ensure Malfoy didn’t kill them both, instead of helping the student that looked like she was about to wither away through no fault of her own, he chased after the student that was withering away because he was an idiot and didn’t care who he hurt.
Severus let out a sigh as he pushed the door of the hospital wing open. The sweet smell of some sort of herbal fruity tea greeted him. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he stepped into the room. If Madam Pomfrey was sitting around and making tea, then Miss Granger was likely fine.
He walked along the row of beds, attempting to discern the flavor of tea. It reminded him of raspberries and elderflowers, but also something more sophisticated. As a potions master and an individual with his designation, he could usually easily rely on his senses, but not at that moment. For once, the scent eluded him. Which was particularly annoying because it was strangely delectable.
Severus slowed as he came upon the privacy curtains around one of the beds. Through a small gap between the curtains, he could see Miss Granger, curled on her side, fast asleep. Her brow was slightly furrowed, and sweat glistened on her forehead. Her labored breathing moved a curl of shiny brown hair back and forth near her face.
He clenched his jaw.
His finger twitched with the urge to move that lock of hair back and put a cool washcloth over her forehead. He stepped forward to do just that when he caught sight of Marby standing vigil.
“Why are you standing there?” he snapped, sounding more forceful that he meant to.
Marby’s ears jumped. “Madam Pomfrey told me to stay and-”
“Clearly, Miss Granger is uncomfortable. Do something about it.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Marby said, snapping her fingers.
The sweat disappeared from Miss Granger’s skin, and her hair pulled back into some sort of loose braid. It looked like her hospital gown was changed into silk lounge clothes.
“Professor Severus,” Madam Pomfrey said, hustling toward him, carrying a large, leather-bound book. “Thank goodness you’re here.”
He took a breath, steadying his emotions. He was probably just on edge because of the Malfoy incident.
“What is wrong with her?” he asked.
“I haven’t worked it out yet-”
“So you’re sitting around brewing tea?”
The woman blinked. “I haven’t been brewing tea. I’ve been running every test I know of to figure out what is going on with Miss Granger.”
Severus shook his head, close to occluding. Since when did he let his emotions control him? “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s quite alright. No one likes to see a student unwell. But as I was trying to say, I can’t find a single thing wrong with her, aside from the obvious. It’s not a poison, a virus, or a bacterial infection. I can’t find any indications of a curse. I was about to run a few less common diagnostics before you came in.”
Severus frowned. “She suspected her drink had been spiked.”
“I found no evidence of that.”
“Did you try the Oxley Method of blood-”
“Of course I tried that. I ran three different tests on a sample of her blood. There isn’t even an increased white blood cell response. Her body thinks she is perfectly fine physically. Magically, there is some sort of elevated reaction, but I believe that might just be because of the fever.”
“Have you given her anything?”
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “I didn’t want to risk it until we knew what was wrong.”
Severus nodded. It wasn’t wise to introduce other magical elements to an unknown disease. Not that they knew whether or not it was a disease. “You said you were going to try a few other diagnostics?”
“That’s right,” she said, moving closer to the bed and setting the book, which Severus recognized as a grimoire, on the small table near the bed. It must have belonged to her family.
Severus crossed his arms while Madam Pomfrey read a few spells in old English.
Normally, he’d be thinking about the grimoire. He never received one from either side of his family, for obvious reasons, which made them particularly interesting to him. What spells had made their way through her family, but were never released to the rest of the world?
But at that moment, all he felt like doing was pushing Madam Pomfrey aside and running the diagnostics himself, which made little sense. He didn’t have the same level of knowledge of healing as she had. He wasn’t so cocky as to think he could do the spell out of her grimoire better than her. There was just an urge to take charge of the situation, not be watching from a distance.
Sure, in some ways it was part of his nature to be a leader, but he had repressed that long ago.
A golden glow shined briefly, reflecting off of the fresh sheen of sweat on Miss Granger’s skin. It had given her an ethereal quality for a moment.
Strangely, his heart skipped a beat.
Madam Pomfrey sucked in a breath as the light disappeared. She looked at the grimoire, then at Miss Granger again, her face scrunched.
“You’ve figured something out,” Severus said.
She shook her head. “I think I might have done that one wrong.” Consulting the old tomb once more, she performed whatever diagnostic spell she had just done. Again, a gold glow shined over Miss Granger’s smooth, pale skin.
“What is it?” Severus asked, trying not to sound impatient.
Madam Pomfrey eyed him up and down before looking at Miss Granger again, then her book.
“You…you don’t know what’s going on?” the witch asked him.
“Obviously,” he said slowly. If he knew what was wrong, why would he let her run all the different diagnostics and tests? He’d just help Miss Granger himself.
“I think I need to call for the headmaster,” she said, looking around the room as if that would give her the answer. She blinked, glancing at him again. “Or perhaps Minerva would be more appropriate.”
He gave her a hard look. “You will tell me what you’ve discovered.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” she said, then looked at the house-elf still standing by Miss Granger’s bed. “Get Professor McGonagall and tell her it’s urgent.”
“Madam Pomfrey,” he said in warning.
“I think you’d better leave Professor Snape-”
Severus wordlessly accio-ed the grimoire from her hands.
Madam Pomphrey gasped. “Give that back.”
Severus ignored her as he stepped away, eyes glued to the book. The writing was nearly incoherent. Old ink blended into the page. He was familiar with old English, but the writing itself was atrocious. He couldn’t even tell where one spell ended, and the next began. What was on one page of the old book should have taken four.
Instincts told him to move, and he narrowly missed a stunning spell headed right for him.
He looked up at Madam Pomfrey with her wand aimed at him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, his voice low. She was a talented healer, but even just judging by her stance, she was completely untrained as a duelist. He tried to look back down at the book, but she shot another stunner in his direction.
“Give me my grimoire and leave the room.”
He looked up at her. “Put down your wand and tell me what is going on.”
“I won’t. Healer-patient confidentiality.”
“If I hadn’t sent her down here, she’d still be in a dark hallway somewhere.”
She shot another stunner, which he easily sidestepped.
The red light hit the wall behind him just as Minerva popped into existence with Marby.
Minerva’s eyes went comically large as she took in the scene. It would have been comical to him, too, if he wasn’t so infuriated.
“What is the meaning of this?” Minerva asked, pulling her own wand out of her pocket.
Madam Pomfrey pointed at him. “Professor Snape has stolen my grimoire.”
Minerva gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t tell me I was brought down here because of a schoolyard spat.”
Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and he magically floated the book back into Madam Pomfrey’s arms.
“She won’t tell me what she has discovered about Miss Granger,” he said, knowing full well he sounded like an insolent child. But why in Salazar’s name was that woman keeping the information from him?
“What’s wrong with Miss Granger?” Minerva asked, finally noticing the student on the bed. She stepped closer, peering down at the young woman.
Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms over her apron. “I don’t believe it would be appropriate to speak of it in front of Professor Snape.”
Minerva gave her a bewildered look, her mind probably running through the list of things it could be based on the fact that he wasn’t allowed to know.
He had done the same already, but just couldn’t put it together. He had been told information related to female health issues before. There was no way Miss Granger was pregnant or else that would have been discovered during the first diagnostic. And there wasn’t much else that he wouldn’t be privy to.
Sure, she was legally an adult, which meant she didn’t follow under the same privacy laws as minors, but they had never held fast to those rules before. He had been informed when another seventeen-year-old had caught a magical sexually transmitted disease, and he didn’t even want to know then. He had simply asked when the student would be returning to class when he was told the disgusting nature of the young wizard’s illness.
“Whatever the illness is, I’ll likely be the one brewing the medicinal potion, so I’ll have to know, anyway.” It was a poor attempt on his part, but he couldn’t think of anything else.
Minerva and Madam Pomfrey seemed to communicate through their eyes, which he was fairly sure neither of them could actually do. After a moment, Minerva looked at him. “Why don’t you head in for tonight? I’ll let you know if we are in need of assistance.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Minerva rolled her eyes as if she was speaking to a teenager and not a fellow professor. “Then don’t, you stubborn man. I don’t care what you do. Poppy, let’s discuss this in your office.”
Severus narrowed his eyes, but didn’t follow the two obnoxious women into the far office. He noticed Madam Pomfrey staring back at him, but he didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he moved closer to the foot of Granger’s bed and ran his own basic diagnostic.
In didn’t reveal anything, of course. If Madam Pomphrey couldn’t figure it out right away, he didn’t stand a chance with his low level of healing knowledge.
He crossed his arms again. For some reason, he still smelled that scent of herbal tea, even though Madam Pomfrey had said she wasn’t making any.
He stared at Miss Granger. She was still sleeping, somehow, despite all the fuss.
At least Madam Pomfrey had figured out what was wrong with her, even if he wasn’t allowed to know. Minerva would no doubt tell him later. He wouldn’t call his relationship with her close, but he was certainly closer with her than most of the other professors.
He glanced towards the office. The two women were still talking. He tilted his head as he took in Minerva’s worried expression.
What would worry Minerva? Was it something deadly? Madam Pomfrey had a way of notifying St. Mungo’s if there was an emergency, and to his knowledge, she hadn’t already.
She also hadn’t notified Albus, even though she mentioned his name. His eyes swung back to Miss Granger. Was Albus also not allowed to know because he was male? Or was there another reason?
The sound of the office door opening stole his attention. Minerva’s stressed expression didn’t inspire any confidence.
“I must insist you go back to you room now, Severus.”
He gave her a sharp look. “What could it possibly be that you won’t tell me?”
“Please Severus, trust me. It’s for the best.”
Trust Minerva? He did, for the most part. He knew she probably only had Miss Granger’s best interest in mind. But something inside him told him he needed to stay right there. That he shouldn’t leave until the situation was resolved, whatever it was.
Throughout the years, he had learned to trust his instincts. He would have been dead a hundred times if he hadn’t. Being a double spy was risky business, after all, but he always got out of every dangerous situation relatively unharmed.
He didn’t know what his subconscious knew that he didn’t in this scenario, but he knew he needed to stay there and figure out what was going on for himself.
“I’m staying.”
Minerva looked like she expected that. Her stressed look took on a bit of sorrow as she took her wand back out.
“Really?” he said, squaring his stance. He was probably faster than Minerva, but she had much more experience than him.
“I don’t want to ask you again,” she said. “Please go back to your room, while Madam Pomfrey and I figure this all out. I promise it’s for your own good.”
“Then just tell me what’s going on and I’ll go.” But even as he said those words, he knew he was lying. She must have, too, for she raised her wand.
His legs bent slightly, ready to dodge whatever she threw at him, while he tried to determine the best spell to throw back at her that wouldn’t cause serious damage.
A muffled groan tore all their attentions.
Miss Granger turned on the bed, rubbing her face with her hands.
“Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said, running towards her. “How are you feeling?”
She rubbed her eyes again and looked up. “Like I’ve been hit by a bus while sitting in a hot-tub.” Her brow furrowed in an adorable manner as she looked at him, then at Minerva, still pointing her wand at him. Her glossy brown eyes widened, long eyelashes fluttering.
Severus didn’t like that Minerva was still pointing her wand. He wouldn’t be able to shield without risking it rebounding and hitting Miss Granger. He could have kicked himself for not considering that earlier.
A non-verbal expelliarmus remedied the situation.
Minerva gasped as her wand was ripped from her hand. He caught it with practiced ease as she glared, like she was about to claw his eyes out.
“What’s going on?” Granger said, rubbing her nose again.
“Are you feeling pain in your face? Your sinuses?” Madam Pomfrey asked, ignoring him and Minerva.
Granger nodded. “I feel like I was punched in the nose.”
Severus lifted a brow.
“Oh honey, unfortunately, all we can do is wait.”
Miss Ganger’s eyes jumped open. “You know what’s wrong?”
Madam Pomfrey gave her a sad smile. “Yes.”
Miss Granger stared at her, waiting for her to continue, but Madam Pomfrey just bit her lip, staring at Miss Granger sadly, still.
Severus bit back a smirk as the impatient know-it-all side of Granger cut through her illness, bringing some color to her cheeks. “Are you going to tell me what it is, or am I going to have to guess?”
“As soon as Professor Snape leaves the room, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Miss Granger’s obvious irritation only grew. “Professor Snape was the one who made sure I got here safely. And since when has this school ever cared about patient confidentiality?”
Severus couldn’t hold back his smirk at that. He glanced at Minerva, who was still glaring at him and her wand in his hand.
“Well then nature-”
“Tell me what’s going on right now or I’m going to St. Mungo’s.”
Madam Pomfrey gave her a long stare. “Miss Granger, that’s highly-”
“Please, just tell me,” Granger said, her voice suddenly small. “I can’t wait another second.”
Madam Pomfrey and Minerva shared a look, then Madam Pomfrey let out a long sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t try to contain this.”
“Please,” Miss Granger said again.
“You are in the middle of a transformation or sorts,” Madam Pomfrey said, her fingers tightening around her grimoire. “There’s nothing we can do to stop it because it was always meant to be.”
Miss Granger rubbed her face. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I thought I was drugged.”
Severus, too, was inclined to yell at the woman to get on with it, but he also knew not to draw attention to himself, considering they didn’t want him there in the first place.
“You weren’t drugged,” Madam Pomfrey continued. “This was something you were born with.”
Miss Granger frowned. “Born with? Like a congenital disease?”
Madam Pomfrey nodded, swallowing. “Miss Granger, you’re an Omega.”
His breath caught in his throat.
Omega?
The word echoed in his mind like the soft melody of a song. Omega. Omega. Omega.
He felt the color drain from his face. Both of the wands in his hands clattered to the floor.
Miss Granger only blinked. “What’s an Omega?”