Prologue

Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

The silence that followed was deafening, but it did not compare to the tumultuous roar that erupted moments later.

Ron and Hermione hurtled towards Harry and wrapped their arms round his middle before Ginny, Neville, Luna and the Weasleys joined them in a crushing embrace. They were instantly surrounded by numerous faces and bodies, pressing in around the Chosen One and holding onto any part of him that they could reach, all to the sound of thunderous cheers.

Mere seconds had passed before Harry struggled to disentangle himself from the Devil's Snare-like grip of his jubilant friends.

Hermione glanced upwards and released her grip as she spotted the agitation on his face.

'Harry?' Her voice was muffled by the clamour. 'Harry, what's wrong?'

'I need through!' he shouted. 'I need to speak to Madam Pomfrey.'

Hermione watched the words form on his lips as his eyes darted in all directions, seeking one face in particular.

'Why? Are you hurt?'

'Everything OK, mate?' asked Ron as Harry elbowed his way through the crowd, ducking under their outstretched limbs.

Madam Pomfrey was hugging a tearful Professor Sprout, whose patched hat had fallen onto the floor. Harry lurched forward as he spotted the matron through the gap of entwined arms and torsos.

Ron looked completely nonplussed as Hermione tugged on his arm and dragged him through the throng. Eyes followed them as they hastened across the Entrance Hall.

'What's wrong, Harry?'

'Where's he going?'

'Harry?'

'What's going on? What's happening?'

'Madam Pomfrey!' shouted Harry. 'I –'

'Potter?' Madam Pomfrey's joy twisted into alarm as Harry hurried to her side. 'What's the matter?'

'I need you to go to the Shrieking Shack.'

Realisation dawned on Hermione as the crowd stared at Harry in bewilderment.

'The Shrieking Shack? Whatever for?'

'Harry...' began Hermione.

'It's urgent,' insisted Harry as he raised his hand to silence Hermione. 'It's Professor Snape.'

'Snape?'

'Snape?'

'What about him?'

Professor McGonagall swept towards them. Despite the bruises and the deep gash along her cheekbone, her features had lost none of their severity.

'What are you talking about, Potter?' she asked.

'He's badly wounded. Nagini, the snake –'

'Leave him, that's wha' I say,' grunted Hagrid.

'You don't understand,' said Harry. His voice cracked in his throat.

The tumult quietened to a low hum as Harry spoke. He glanced around at the faces of the Hogwarts staff, Dumbledore's Army, the remains of the Order and his fellow students, which regarded him with quiet curiosity as he related the story of Snape's pact with Dumbledore.

'We can't just leave him, not after –' He swallowed. 'Not after everything he's done.'

'Harry, it's too late.' Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. 'He's been there for hours. The venom will have penetrated his system by now.'

Harry brushed her hand from his shoulder and turned to Madam Pomfrey.

'Severus,' repeated Madam Pomfrey as she clasped a hand to her forehead. Disbelief was etched into the lines in her face. 'But he –'

'He's been working for Dumbledore ever since Voldemort made his plans to kill her – my parents, I mean,' he faltered. 'If there's the slightest possibility that he could be alive, we have to try.'

'So, he wer just pretendin' to be on You-Know-Who's side?' asked Hagrid as he propped himself against Grawp's knee. His beady eyes skirted over the pale corpse splayed across the floor of the Entrance Hall.

'Severus was working for the Order all along?' asked Arthur Weasley. The red-haired man looked exhausted and worn as he approached. He was grimy from battle and sweat shone on his freckled forehead.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Dumbledore had intended for Snape to kill him as proof of his loyalty to Voldemort so that he'd be appointed Headmaster. Albus didn't want the school to be left in the hands of the Death Eaters and Snape was the only one who would be able to protect the students.'

'How do you know all of this, Potter?' asked Professor McGonagall.

'The Pensieve,' he replied. 'I saw everything.'

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she spied a flicker of hesitancy, almost sheepishness, beneath his fierce determination.

'I can hardly believe it,' said Professor Flitwick. 'He certainly played his part well.'

'He would have had to,' muttered Professor McGonagall.

'There isn't much time. We have to move quickly!' said Harry, addressing Madam Pomfrey. 'If we –'

'Harry,' said Hermione, cutting through him. 'I told you that it's no use.'

'Miss Granger is right,' said Professor Slughorn, shaking his head as he stepped towards Harry. 'Snake venom is particularly potent. One can hardly expect to survive more than an hour after being bitten.'

Harry was unmoved.

'There has to be a way...Mr Weasley!' said Harry triumphantly as he turned to face Ron's father. 'Two years ago, you were attacked by Nagini at the Ministry and you –'

'I was treated in the nick of time, Harry,' said Arthur gently. 'Any longer and it would have been fatal.'

'He could still make it, if we go now.'

Hermione's heart sank as she listened to the defiant hope in Harry's voice. She could not share his optimism as she remembered the rasp of Snape's voice and his curious, final request. It was over.

'Well, there's no guarantee, Potter,' said Minerva McGonagall lightly. Her voice sliced through the low hum of dissenting voices. 'But if what you say is true, we owe it to him to try.'

Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn and Professor Flitwick joined Hermione and Harry as they hurried towards the Shrieking Shack. Hermione felt goosebumps rise along her skin as they approached the thrashing branches of the Whomping Willow. It was not a cold morning, but as she stumbled over a lumpy patch of grass, the chilling sensation of déjà-vu sent a shiver down her spine.

Four years had passed since she and Harry had been engaged in another rescue mission to save both Sirius and Buckbeak from execution. But the hippogriff and the alleged criminal were were not the only ones in need of saving that night. Remus Lupin's transformation had been unlike anything she had ever seen. Had it not been for the imminent arrival of Professor Snape, both she and Harry had would not have survived the night.

Tonight, they had not been so fortunate.

Hermione stopped in her tracks as images flashed in her mind. She saw the pale bodies of Remus and Tonks, lying side-by-side on the floor of the Great Hall, along with numerous others. Snape's thrashing body as the serpent sunk its fangs into his skin also appeared in her mind's eye, followed by her third-year recollection of the Potions teacher as he shielded her from the advance of the werewolf.

'Hermione? Are you OK?' asked Harry, placing his hand on the small of her back.

She swallowed several times and nodded briskly. The realisation and the grief had yet to pierce the shock and, when they did, there would be no escape from the pain.

'Come on,' he said, urging her forward. 'Let's go.'

In life, Severus Snape had always looked somewhat vampiric. In death, his sallow skin and sunken cheeks did little to reduce the likeness. His veins bulged through his pale skin and one could easily imagine the venom coursing through his bloodstream.

Hermione's gasp was not the only sound to fill the silence of the Shrieking Shack as the group stepped over the threshold of the room. Professor McGonagall did not conceal the tremble in hand as her fingers hovered over Snape's lips.

'He's not breathing.'

'What can we do?'

'Is it too late for a bezoar?' Hermione asked Slughorn as the other professors examined the fang marks in Snape's neck.

His enormous moustache twitched as he considered her suggestion.

'I – I confess I am not certain how effective a bezoar would be against snake venom, especially at this stage...' murmured Professor Slughorn. 'But it's worth trying.'

'We'll also need to draw the poison out,' murmured Professor Flitwick as he withdrew his wand from his sleeve. 'And quickly.'

The tiny wizard pressed the tip of his wand against Snape's throat and murmured the enchantment. The familiar black robes were torn and stained with blood.

'Accio bezoar! It might not help much...' muttered Slughorn as he knelt beside Severus's head.

To prise his jaws apart, Professor McGonagall cupped Snape's chin with her palm while her other hand pinched the skin above his lip as Professor Slughorn forced the stone into his mouth.

'It'll take more than a single bezoar to flush the venom from his system,' said Madam Pomfrey as she summoned several phials of antidotes from her stores. 'These are all for common poisons, but they might take effect.'

Harry and Hermione stood to the side as the teachers busied themselves with the task of drawing the poison from the wound. Harry's palm felt cold and clammy as he gripped her hand. She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze as they watched for any signs of life.

'Vulnera Sanentur,' whispered Professor McGonagall, pointing her wand above the bloodstained collar of Snape's shirt. 'Vulnera Sanentur.' The punctures in his neck began to sew together beneath her wand.

'These antidotes aren't strong enough, Poppy,' said Professor Slughorn, as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

'I don't think I have anything stronger,' she replied, reaching for Snape's wrist. Harry looked at her hopefully, but his silent enquiry was met with a shake of her head. 'Still no pulse.'

'Could you brew a stronger antidote, Professor Slughorn?' asked Harry.

Slughorn shook his head miserably.

'My dear boy, it'd take weeks to brew something strong enough and, unfortunately, time is not on our side tonight,' he murmured.

Hermione kept her eyes trained on Snape's pale face as she knelt beside Madam Pomfrey and tentatively touched his pale hand. To her surprise, his skin felt hot beneath her fingers.

'I don't understand,' she gasped. 'He's warm!'

'It's only the venom, I'm afraid,' said Professor Flitwick gently with a sad shake of his head.

'Another bezoar, perhaps?' suggested Professor McGonagall.

There was a general murmur of assent and Madam Pomfrey and Professor Slughorn occupied themselves with the task of magicking the shrivelled stone into Severus's mouth.

Hermione did not move from her spot nor could she take her hand away from his. The back of Snape's hand was webbed with fine creases and the hill of his knuckle felt smooth under her touch.

The stillness of his body unnerved her and Hermione resisted the urge to violently shake him in the hope that he would wake.

An idea suddenly came to mind as she looked at him.

Hesitantly, she fumbled with her wand. She was not certain that it would work, but as the others forced another bezoar between his lips, Hermione pressed the end of her wand against his hand.

'Reparifors.'

The tip glowed as she murmured the incantation and when she lifted her wand, Hermione noticed that the spell had left a small red mark under the knoll of his knuckle.

The seconds ticked by and her heart remained as still as his own.

After several minutes, her wand clattered to the floor as she blinked away the rising warmth at the back of her eyes.

'Hermione,' Harry spoke in a cautious tone. 'What did you just do?'

She raised her head to look at him, but Harry's attention was not focused on her. Her friend gasped as his eyes fixed on Snape's face.

'He moved! I saw it! I swear I just saw –'

The teachers huddled round the body as Madam Pomfrey took up his wrist.

'I don't believe it.'

'How on earth –'

'It was Hermione!' cried Harry.

They turned to look at her.

'I – I just used the Reparifo spell, I didn't expect it to actually work,' she spluttered. 'I didn't think it would do anything, especially not in a situation like this, but I read that it can reverse –'

'Paralysis,' McGonagall finished for her. 'I never even thought of that.'

'None of us did,' said Professor Slughorn as he chewed on the end of his moustache.

'He needs to be taken to St. Mungo's,' said Madam Pomfrey urgently. 'We've done all that we can here...and we have achieved far more than I ever thought.' The matron squeezed Hermione's shoulder as she rose to her feet.

'Is he going to be all right?' asked Harry as his lips split into a hopeful grin.

'With a bit of luck, he might be,' said Madam Pomfrey as she conjured a stretcher and magicked Snape's supine form onto it.

Hermione was forcibly reminded of a similar situation in the exact same location four years ago, except it had been Sirius Black holding the wand. If memory served her correctly, Black had been far less delicate in his attentions than Madam Pomfrey.

'I'll take him,' said Harry decisively.

'Perhaps not the best idea, Potter,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The journalists will be out in hordes soon and we need to get him to the Healers as fast as possible without any delays.'

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the stern glare of Professor McGonagall was not without effect.

'Go back to the school,' she said, addressing the staff. 'Madam Sprout and Professor Trelawney will need your assistance in tending to the wounded. I'll take Severus to St Mungo's.'

'I'll go too,' piped Hermione.

Professor McGonagall nodded her assent.

'Come, we must hurry.'

As they moved through the narrow passageways of the Shrieking Shack, Hermione reached for Snape's hand. Despite Flitwick's words, she took comfort in the warmth of his skin and her heart leapt with hope. Once they were outside, she braced herself for the uncomfortable feeling of Apparition and as she squeezed Severus's hand, she felt the tiniest movement in his fingers.