A/N: I started posting this story a long time ago on Ashwinder. It isn't complete yet and I'm a slow writer, so after the 17 chapters I have ready now, I can't promise very regular updates. For now, I will upload one chapter every day.

Chapter 1: The Trick is to Keep Breathing

The stench of blood hovered over the once green meadow lying between Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. The grass was trampled, singed, and soaked with gore. There were bodies scattered everywhere, some of them not in one piece anymore.

Hermione averted her eyes from the nauseating scene. She wanted to vomit, to scream, to rage for everyone on the side of the Light who had died, were crippled or mourning over loved ones. Instead, she could only crumble in to a small heap on the ground and stare vacantly into space. The fact that Harry had finally met his arch-villain and sent him back to whatever Hell he had spawned from couldn't penetrate her mind. All she could think about was the terrible price—so many dead, so many families ripped apart to shreds. The image of George staring at his brother's still form made a hiccough rise from her throat. Little Teddy Lupin, left without his parents before he turned one-years-old...just like Harry. She sank her nails into the soil and clawed, extracting clumps of bloodied grass. Snape...


Harry left the Headmaster's Office with glassy eyes, clutching the phial of silvery memories with a death grip. He looked at them and spoke, his words lodged in his throat and coming out in bursts of gasps.

'He loved her...all this time...he...the doe...Dumbledore...I could never do what he asked of Snape...and I called him a coward!'

Hermione reached out to touch his arm, which shook him out of his thoughts. He visibly braced himself and angrily wiped his eyes. He grabbed both Hermione and Ron by the hands and squeezed.

'There is something that I must do. Alone. If I am really my mother's son, very soon we will live in a world free of Voldemort's poison. Take care, both of you. I could not bear it if I lost both of you.'

Harry turned around briskly, leaving them worried and bewildered.

Hermione's analytical mind quickly put together her friend's incoherent speech. The doe must have been Snape's Patronus, which meant that he had helped them. That led her to the conclusion that Dumbledore's murder was not what it appeared to be. If what she thought was true, if the old wizard had asked Snape to deliberately kill him...she clenched her fists. She was sure that the late Headmaster was not a saint, but that just went too far. Apparently, whatever Harry had seen in the Pensieve helped him. Voldemort was dead. So was Snape.

She gasped, snapping back to the present. They had left him behind to lie there in the Shrieking Shack, alone in death as he was in life; it wasn't right. Hermione stood up, wincing from various bruises and cuts, and brushed off her clothes. She smiled wryly; nothing could be done for them, except maybe an Incendio. She walked stiffly towards the Shack, not trusting her Apparition skills. There were other people wandering around the battlefield, faces she recognised, but she continued on. The task she set herself on gave her something to hold on to. Her former Professor deserved her last respects and she is going to pay them before someone else could find his body to make a spectacle out of it, be it as a hero or a villain.

The Shrieking Shack looked dark and menacing. It had at one time been a young werewolf's hideout and a meeting place between a boy and his godfather; it was now a murder scene. Hermione walked in, suddenly fearful of the sight of Snape's body. The man always had such an imposing presence when he was alive; it was difficult to picture him lying in a pool of blood. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and noticed the dark figure sprawled out on the dirt floor as her heart skipped a beat. A faint gurgling sound came from the body. Oh my God, he is still alive! Hermione crossed the room in three long strides and kneeled next to Severus Snape. He was pale as death itself, but still breathing. Her first feelings of relief were replaced by alarm as she saw blood still trickling from the horrendous tears on his throat. She tried one of the diagnostic charms she had learned before and to her immense surprise, it showed there was no venom in his system. It seemed that the Potions Master had not been caught unaware. Deciding it was safe to close his wound, she waved her wand over it. Nothing happened. Cursing under her breath, she tried again. Still nothing. Swaying from fatigue, she braced her free hand on the floor to help regain her strength. Gathering all her power, she focused on her task and waved again. This time she felt a jolt of magic course through her and the reluctant flesh obey. She watched with satisfaction when the torn edges of the artery merged together.

A loud pop of Apparition resounded within the shack and Harry's shout of relief could immediately be heard.

'Hermione! Thank Goodness! I thought I'd lost you! Good thing I remembered to come and collect the Professor's body.'

Hermione felt a hysterical giggle rise in her throat that she was not able to suppress. Turning to Harry, who now looked worried, she managed to say, 'You can call him Snape again, Harry. He is alive. Please, call the mediwizards, I can't...' Blissful darkness embraced her.

The king of all headaches reigned and his domain was in Hermione's head. She groaned and willed herself back into unconsciousness, but was stopped by a cool hand on her forehead.

'Drink this, Miss Granger, and don't even think about opening your eyes before I say so.'

She couldn't quite place the voice, though obeyed nevertheless and opened her mouth. The taste was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The pounding in her head subsided immediately to a dull throb. After a minute or so the voice said, 'You can look now.'

Hermione obeyed and realised the reason for the former warning. Even the dim light in the room caused some discomfort to her eyes. She eyed the figure next to her bed and blanched. It was her former Potions professor, apparently alive and well. Dressed in his black teaching robes, he looked the same as he always did, as if no giant venomous cobra had ever gone near him. For a second, Hermione wondered whether the last battle had just been a horrible nightmare.

Snape's lips twitched in something resembling amusement.

'Surprised? After you personally brought me back from the edge of the Veil?'

Hermione could only gawk at him, bewildered. She remembered healing him, but she never thought she would see him next to her bed, tending to her. Apparently, her confusion showed clearly on her face, as Snape sighed and explained.

'You, Miss Granger, are suffering from severe overexertion of you magical powers. You were already tired and malnourished when you entered the battle. You expended too much energy fighting. Apparently, you had drained yourself almost dry when you found me.'

Hermione nodded slowly.

'I remember...I didn't feel strong enough to Apparate and the first two times I tried the healing spell, it didn't work.'

Snape looked sharply in her eyes.

'And the third time? Why did it work?'

She shrugged.

'I honestly don't know. All I remember is that I braced myself on the floor because I was going to fall down, I gathered all the power I could and it worked.'

Snape's face remained impassive, but something passed through his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. He shook his head a little, as if to chase away an unwelcome thought, and continued.

'It seems that it was in fact the last of your magical energy that you used to heal me, Miss Granger. You can consider yourself lucky. Most of the people who suffer such complete drain remain Squibs for the rest of their lives. Some don't even survive.'

Hermione shuddered at the thought of losing all her magic. But she hadn't. She felt it there, thrumming through her blood and nerves, more present than ever before. She smiled shyly.

'Something tells me that I had a good Potions Master at my service.'

This time, Snape's lips twitched more noticeably, coming as close to a smile as she had ever seen them. He bowed slightly.

'It was the least that I could do after what you did for me, Miss Granger. However, make no mistake—I made the potions to support your life and your body, the retention of your magic was all up to you. The Healers at St Mungo's thought your case as a lost cause. I knew though, that you are stronger than you look.'

Hermione's cheeks burned at the first compliment she had ever received from her teacher. Suddenly uncomfortable, she changed the topic.

'How long have I been out? You seem completely recovered.'

'You managed to heal my wound perfectly, Miss Granger. As you surely had noticed, I ingested the adequate antivenin before my encounter with Nagini. All I needed was a Blood-Replenishing Potion, food, and rest. You have been out for two weeks, more than enough for me to recover, stand a trial and be absolved—thanks to your friend Potter. I am now a war hero and every day I get...fan mail.' Snape shuddered. 'I reconsider my opinion of The-Boy-Who-Lived. If he is able to withstand the Wizarding World's simpering love for so many years without going insane, he has indeed more strength of character than I thought.'

Through his dry sarcasm, Hermione could see a grudging respect for Harry, but she left it alone. Snape seemed to be in talkative mood, so she dared to ask another question.

'What are you going to do now, sir?'

'I haven't taken a sabbatical in all my years at Hogwarts. I believe a year away from Britain will do me a lot of good. I have a small cottage in Greece, from my father's side of the family. I will catch up on all my suspended projects and research.'

'You are leaving?'

'I need time to come to terms with everything that has happened during the past year. One more thing, I owe you my life, Miss Granger. In my case, this is a favour of dubious value, but the intent counts and I am grateful. You may call me by my given name if you wish so.'

Hermione cringed inwardly. Did he think he would be better off dead? Shelving the thought for further contemplation, she tried to smile at him and replied, 'Well, you saved mine too, so I should extend the same courtesy.'

He gave a curt nod, stood up, and pointed to the small table.

'Here are ten more phials of the potion you drank this morning. I think after a week your headaches will subside, but it never hurts to be on the safe side. You should refrain from using magic for several days as I am sure Poppy will instruct you. I will take my leave now, your friends should be here soon, so you will not be alone. Farewell, Miss Granger.' Snape swept out of the infirmary in a billow of robes.

Hermione blinked. The whole experience was surreal. He spoke to her in civil tone; the man who had used every opportunity to cut her down to size, and then some. She shook her head. Maybe it was an after-effect of the king cobra venom. She was startled out of her thoughts by the voices in the hallway. The door opened. Two worried faces peeked in and immediately broke out into huge grins.

The boys almost smothered the life out of her when they saw her awake. Harry looked strange without the prominent scar on his forehead, but his eyes had lost some of the hollow, haunted look that had scared her so much in the past year. Ron flushed a little when their eyes met, but it seemed they both knew that their kiss was a result of the heat of the battle, and that it would remain so. They told her all about the Order of Merlin that awaited her at the Ministry, the ongoing renovation of Hogwarts, the Death Eater trials, until her head started to swim and she felt warning thrums in her temples. Right on time, Madam Pomfrey entered the ward and shooed Harry and Ron away from her patient. After the grumbling boys left, the Hogwarts matron checked Hermione over, repeated Snape's instructions about doing magic and gave her a sleeping draught.

Severus Snape opened the door to the Shrieking Shack and entered. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, looking at the spot where he almost bled to death, but he shook the nausea away and crouched on the floor, examining it closely. Soon he saw what he was looking for. On the hard dirt floor, pressed almost as solid as concrete, grew a single red flower. Its vibrant colour stood out against the grey earth around it. It was next to the huge spot of dried blood...his blood...exactly where Hermione must have stood. Looking closely, he even saw the faint imprint of her five fingers around the flower.

Severus caressed the red petals with a finger and stood up. While he walked back to the castle with an extra deep scowl, he kept rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He would have to keep an eye on the girl.

A/N: The title of the story belongs to Kings Of Convenience. This chapter's title belongs to Garbage. Many thanks to my incredible beta, Gryffindor_Slytherin.