My Sorrow To Yours

A/N: And the adventures of Snape and Hermione continue. As the title implies this one is darker than A Proper Romance, so if you are looking for fluffy romantic fun, head elsewhere. In the last one many of you requested a heads up as to possible cross overs, well, Willow will be back for this story. Not for much of it, and not in a Vampire Slaying sort of way, but she will appear. Lastly, this will update quite a bit slower than A Proper Romance did, eleven weeks ago I had another baby, so between him and his two and a half year old brother, things are a bit busy over here at the Raist household.

And now...the story!

Chapter 1. Dread

Snape almost burned down the lab, and possibly the house, and perhaps, if the winds were right, his neighborhood.

Create a controlled liquid version of Fiendfyre. The idea had appealed to his intellect, and the idea of the challenge of taking a spell of that destructive magnitude and turning it into a useful tool made him happy. Granted, in the last few weeks, as he had continued to work on the puzzle, he had placed a few discrete inquiries as to the intentions of the people who had commissioned the work. The answers he had received did not bode well for him ever releasing his findings.

So it was, in the midst of dealing with an insanely dangerous spell, surrounded by remarkably flammable liquids that a feeling of such utter horror and pain washed over him that he almost dropped the flask he was holding.

He didn't drop it. He did jerk it and splash some on his hand, fortunately covered by dragon scale gloves, which began to hiss and sizzle as soon as the liquid touched it. He looked around the lab and saw nothing, but the feeling intensified and along with it came the knowledge that what was happening somehow involved Hermione.

He took a very quick breath, placed the flask on his lab bench, stripped off the gloves, and tossed a stasis hood over his work. (No matter what was happening with Hermione she would not appreciate her home being burned to the ground.)

He ran to the newest addition to his lab, a small chamber where he could "decontaminate" anything he was wearing. Hermione's Midwife had stressed that it was not a good idea to mix a pregnant woman with experimental potions, and that even the merest hint of something could cause problems. Snape dealt with that by vanishing anything he wore in his lab, and making sure he was thoroughly clean in the chamber before Apparating naked back into the house.

Usually it took him a few minutes to do this routine. Today it took less than five seconds. Those five seconds gave him time to focus on what he was feeling, and the best word he could come up with was dread. He also took a second to remember that he could not Apparate directly to Hogwarts.

Faster to use the Floo. Three more seconds got him into their home, into a fresh robe, and into the Floo.

In transit he realized that the feeling was lessening, and for almost half a second he thought he might be doing something foolish. Then the dread slammed back into him, strong enough to make him want to vomit. Not foolish.

He jumped out of the Floo in her office and did not wait for the room to stop spinning before he began to run to her classroom. His hip made a soft pulpy sound as it smacked into her desk, and for the next two weeks he'd wonder how he had gotten that bruise.

He was moving fast for a forty-five year old, but not as fast as he wished to be. He was running full out when he turned the corner to the staircase that lead to Hermione's classroom in the North Tower when he almost crashed into Harry.

"You feel it too?" He gasped at the younger man.

Harry didn't speak, winded from his run from the other side of the castle nine floors down. He just nodded at Severus. For a perverse second that made Snape feel a little better, he wasn't just imagining this. Which then made him realize whatever was causing this was real. And if it was real…

He ran faster. Harry kept pace with him.

"I told my students to get Poppy and send her to Hermione." Harry panted at Severus as they got within one floor of Hermione's classroom.

Please, please let her be there already! As close to a prayer as Snape had ever come in his adult life.

They both had their wands out as they got to the floor her class was on. Severus didn't bother with a proper spell, fear fueled magic that blasted the door to her classroom off its hinges and out of their way.

Upon entering that door, both of them skidded to a halt. The classroom looked normal, no ravening hordes, no evil monsters, no battle to the death. Just a normal classroom, except for the stunned third years, and Hermione was not at her board. She was standing at her desk. Snape could almost breathe, the fear almost lessened. Harry was barking orders at the students that class was dismissed and to get Madam Pomfrey here as fast as possible.

Hermione didn't look up. Severus noticed this almost as an afterthought to the fact that no one was attacking her. Her hands were white, and they were clutching her desk. He felt as if he was moving towards her in slow motion. But, eventually, he was next to her, and placed one of his hands over hers.

She did look at him then, gave him a very small, pained smile, and started to topple towards him. He caught her, and settled her in his lap on her chair. As she moved he caught the smell of blood, and after a few seconds felt the wetness through his robe.

The rational part of Snape's mind, the part that had spent two and a half years working in the antidote department of St. Mungo's, knew that bleeding was a normal part of a miscarriage. The rational part knew that miscarriages this late were rare, but not unheard of. The rational part also seemed to be sitting behind him and talking to him from a long way off.

The rest of his mind was doing everything he could not to start screaming. Part of it wanted to jump up and run her to Poppy. Part of it was so scared that moving her could make something worse that he felt bound to the chair.

Harry had joined them, and was holding Hermione's hand. He was talking, a nonsensical litany of soothing noises interspersed with "Poppy's coming soon."

After about the third time Harry said, "She'll be here any second," Snape finally did decide to move Hermione. Poppy was taking too long, something must have waylaid her, and there was no way he was going to let Hermione bleed a second longer than necessary. He had stood, Hermione in his arms, and walked two steps when Poppy ran through the door, out of breath and disheveled.

She didn't stop to catch her breath. Her wand was out and she was breathing hard when she said, "Put her down Severus. I can't do the diagnostic spells with you holding her."

He stood there for a second, unwilling to let her go. Harry placed a hand on his arm, and provided a gentle downward pressure. Snape slowly and awkwardly sunk to the floor and gently deposited Hermione on it. Her eyes were closed now, a look of pain on her face.

"What happened, dear?" Poppy asked.

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't, or didn't want to talk.

"It's going to be alright. We'll get you fixed up in no time." Poppy looked up from Hermione to the two men. "How did you two end up here?"

Severus looked at Harry, who looked back at him; both had an expression that belied a level of mild confusion. Snape spoke first.

"I felt something awful. All of a sudden something was wrong, and I just knew it had to do with Hermione."

"It was like having a knife of ice run through your gut." Harry added.

"Hmmm…" Poppy said, looking critically at Hermione, taking her pulse, checking for fever. "How far along is she?"

"Nineteen weeks," Snape answered.

"Any complaints recently?"

"Just the usual, tired, heartburn, constipated."

"Yes, all things normal for a pregnancy. Any unusual swelling, dizziness?"

Hermione shook her head no.

"Can you talk?"

"Yes." The first word she had said since they had gotten here. Snape felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Hurts something awful, does it dear? Is the pain coming and going?"

Hermione nodded, and once again closed her eyes.

"I'm going to do a few spells, and then we'll get you to the hospital wing."

Snape knew enough about healing, and enough about dealing with dark curses to know that Poppy was not doing any sort of standard medical diagnostic spells. She was looking for something sinister, and when the second spell revealed a sickly chartreuse aura streaked with black, all the relief Snape had felt at hearing her voice fled.

Poppy looked shaken. "What's the name of her Healer and Midwife?"

Snape felt sick with fear. "Healer Derwint and Susan Bones is the Midwife."

"We're going to St. Mungo's. Catch up as soon as you can." And with that Poppy grabbed Hermione and Apparated them out of Hogwarts.

They both stood there for a moment. Harry looked dumbly at the spot where Hermione and Poppy had been.

"How?" Harry asked. They began the walk to Hermione's Floo.

It took a moment for Snape to realize that Harry had spoken. He shook his head as if in a daze. "It's supposed to be a secret, something only the Healer and the Headmaster knows, the only person who can Apparate into and out of Hogwarts is the Healer, and anyone she may be carrying. For exactly this reason."

"Oh."

The walk to Hermione's Floo was also at a fast pace, but the frantic run to her classroom had left Snape too tired for sprinting back down three flights of stairs.

Snape didn't speak, his mind already at St. Mungo's with Hermione. Harry didn't know if, or what to say to him. Finally, he settled on, "She'll be okay."

Snape grunted. They entered Hermione's office. Snape had grabbed some Floo powder and was about to enter when Harry grabbed his arm.

"I've got to tell Minerva what's happened. I'll be with you soon, but it'll take a few minutes."

Snape nodded, tossed the Floo powder, and vanished in a green flash.

Harry decided to walk up to Minerva's office. He wanted the time to calm himself before he had to say anything to her. He didn't think she'd be too rattled, but he found it difficult to say the words, even in his own mind, let alone out loud.

He stopped at the door to Hermione's office. Snape really shouldn't be alone. Harry knew from his own, much happier experiences at St. Mungo's, that being stuck in the waiting room alone was a whole new level of torture.

He returned to the Floo and called on his Father-In-Law.

"Harry?" Arthur looked calm but surprised to see Harry's face in the Floo in the middle of a school day.

"Dad, can you get to St. Mungo's?"

Arthur's face changed, fear tinged a purposely calm expression. "Certainly, what happened?"

"I think…" Harry took a deep breath to calm his voice, "I think Hermione lost the baby. Severus is there now, and he's alone, and it'll take a few minutes before I can get there."

"I'll be there in a second."