"Is this heaven?" Throat pains, aches at each passing letter.
"Do you actually think I'd be in Heaven Ms. Granger?" Severus replies, sitting up in the chair to the left of the bed, where he had been for days, watching her fight the flu, now on it's fiftieth hour.
"It would seem to me that the only time you'd care for me is if I or rather both of us were dead."
"Why not hell?" She turns the wave nausea nearly stopping her and smiles.
"Despite what everyone else seems to believe; you are too good and decent for hell."