Deep Bruises of War (Finnished)

VIII Getting hands dirty

The following day, Severus Snape stopped her at the door, as she was leaving the Great Hall to start some reparations at the east wing of the castle.

"Have you lost your mind completely?" he asked her with a harsh voice. She gulped. It always seemed so weird when she heard his voice, whilst his mouths remained tightly pressed and motionless for most of the conversation.

"What are you talking about, professor?" Hermione's eyebrows raised, she tilted her head a bit, just enough to look the dark man into his cold eyes.

"Talking to Minerva like this... She doesn't deserve your bloody rage, nor any others."

"Oh, so now you're gonna waste my time professor, by giving me your precious pieces of advice?"

"Wasting your time, oh aren't I?"

She was looking at him ‒ from what he was seeing, furious enough to set the whole damn place on fire just to burn and then bury him under the ashes.

"Do you really think professor that you are the very person I would seek the counsel of? We make a horrible match. Notwithstanding our last conversation, we can both agree to that."

He smirked.

"So you're gonna fight me now with my own weapon?"

"If it is what I'm pushed to do, yes."

"Pushed" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes... I" she was no longer so self-confident, he could tell it plainly from the look of her eyes, from the way her body tensed "I overthought your kind offer, professor..."

"And what have you came up with, don't make me wait, the curiosity is killing me Miss Granger" he mocked.

"Do you really want to see my cold corpse lying at your feet?" he made an evil smile.

"I do not wish you dead," she said bitterly, taking his dark joke seriously although she was still so angry with him.

Or maybe it was the very reason she hasn't noticed the humour in his voice? She was plainly blind from anger right now, how could he blame her for that – he was, not less but obviously either no more than an old, gitty piece of a bat.

He grimaced giving her an approving nod.

"Very well," he said coldly. "I can assure you that assisting you in fighting your own demons was never my greatest desire. I am sufficiently fond of mine. "

Then he took off.

She stood for a while, confused and tried to figure out what had just happened. After a few minutes Hermione, still not having a clue, decided that this effort is worthless and standing at the door with a stupid expression on her face strips her from what was left of her human dignity.

She eventually walked away and got a move on her unfinished work in the east wing.

The reparations haven't been going so smoothly these last few days. The weather had worsened to the point it's became unendurable for all the workers, not mentioning those working at the open air. And Hermione was one of the luckiest people rebuilding the roof of the damn castle. She had to admit that it was even more awful job than cleaning the cauldrons with their disguising filling at detentions with Snape: the dungeon felt warm and cosy after a full day of standing outside in the heavy rainfall. Of course, they've tried to protect themselves with charms, but it wasn't worth the effort of casting ‒ lasted too short, took to much of the precious energy of the caster.

So she was completely soaked when she finally decided that she's had enough for today. She even went to the Hospital Wing to ask Poppy for some Pepperub Potion, but the woman sadly was currently out of the fresh supplies.

"They are all coming to me, like you my dear," she told her with deep regret in her voice. "Cold, sniffling like a boar in the hunt for truffles."

Hermione forced herself to smile politely. At least she didn't have to be a bugger to another innocent human being. She was ashamed enough for her nasty behaviour toward Minerva yesterday morning and she didn't want to repent for more sins.

"That's all right," she said, although she knew it was a lie. "I'll survive, Poppy.  Don't trouble yourself, I'll come and ask you tomorrow. Maybe you can leave me a bottle or two if professor Snape restocks the potion this evening or floo me if he does?"

The woman reconsidered something for a moment.

"Or maybe you could be so kind and do me a favour? Could you go and ask him, please? I still have a lot of work to do and it is past time for me to visit Minerva. She suffers from terrible headaches these day's poor thing."

Hermione simply nodded, too sheepish to say anything sensible. If she had pangs of conscience before, now she felt like a complete arsehole.

"Thank you Hermione. Having you here is a great relief to all of us."

Yes, of course ‒ she thought bitterly.

But she smiled and went off without another word. Setting a drying charm all over her clothes she was getting down the stairs to meet HIM again, her greatest antagonist, Man Without Inhibitions (in the matter of maliciousness) Severus Bloody Snape.