His body rested against the weathered wall and only the involuntary twitching caused by his death throes broke the eerie silence of the dusty room; the dry rasp of fabric scrapping crumbling paint, the light staccato of boot heels catching intermittently on the hard ground, and the pained, drowning breaths of lungs unable to draw air. Movement gradually stilled and eyes nearly as black as onyx became fixed with a glassy stare. The hand that held fiercely onto the robes of the Boy Who Lived abruptly slackened and landed with a sickly thud in a pool of blood as it struck the worn floor.
The high, cold voice of Voldemort could then be heard by the three occupants of the Shrieking Shack, shattering the paralysis that had fallen over them from the horror they had just witnessed, and reverberating through the interior of Hogwarts, addressing the defenders of the school and allowing them an hour of reprieve from the battle in which to tend to their wounded. An hour of peace, and then the Dark Lord would begin to personally slaughter any that stood in his way if Harry Potter did not reveal himself.
Harry glanced at Snape's body, in shock at his violent death and the realisation that soon it would be he who faced the monster that had brought death upon the man before him. He grabbed his invisibility cloak while still clutching the flask, desperate to see the final message that was contained in the surprising gift of tears from a person usually devoid of emotion. The memories in hand, he hurried past his two stunned friends, determined to discover how this would affect the final hours of the war.
"Quick, I need to get to Dumbledore's pensieve!" Harry shouted over his shoulder when his companions remained frozen in place, staring at the macabre scene.
He dropped down into the tunnel that led from the shack and Ron quickly scrambled to follow him. Hermione hesitated, dread and mortification overwhelming her.
"I've forgotten something! I will meet you in the Great Hall!" she yelled in their direction.
The boys were so focused on returning to the castle and escaping from the scene of Snape's demise, that they gave little thought to her absence and trusted the brilliant witch to rejoin them as she claimed she would. As they exited through the gap in the roots of the Whomping Willow, however, Ron paused indecisively beneath the tree and shot an apprehensive glance back before jogging to catch up with Harry.
Hermione looked down at her former professor, unsure of her feelings or motivation for not running away as well, even though she was gripped with a strong urge to flee.
This dark Death Eater, the terror of Hogwarts, with his nasty comments and snide remarks, bled out onto the wooden floor. All that remained was little more than the shell of a once powerful man. Hermione felt an uncontrollable desire to touch him and she knelt by the motionless form. Snape's chin had fallen down against his chest, curtains of blood-splattered black hair stuck to his pale cheeks.
Struck by an epiphany as she gazed at this wretched sight, she then saw the man Dumbledore had placed his trust in, and suddenly felt certain of what the memory given to Harry might contain.
A good wizard had been hidden beneath the shroud of a spy, traitor, and murderer, she was sure of it.
She reached out a trembling hand and touched his neck, expecting the cold, rigid feel of a corpse, but a faint throb and slight warmth were found by her chilled fingers instead. Hope flooded Hermione's mind at the possibility that the professor was still alive. Valuable time had been lost and he was on the very edge of the veil, teetering on the brink as the last ebb of life trickled away.
"Where there is life, there is hope," she said aloud. The determined Gryffindor knew this was why she had not run to Harry and Ron's side.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on Madam Pomfrey's office. Withdrawing her wand from her pocket, she raised it and murmured, "Accio blood replenisher". Almost instantly, it flew into her hand. With another flick of the wand, "Accio anti-venom" and again, "Accio dittany", she gathered the medical supplies around her.
She poured the anti-venom on the wide, ghastly lacerations and watched the potent substance mix with his blood, praying that it would be effective against Nagini's poison. Fumbling briefly in panic with the various bottles, she applied dittany to Professor Snape's neck, her hand shaking as the contents of the vial splashed onto his skin. The dark liquid fizzed before flesh slowly began knitting together and the bleeding stopped.
Crawling closer on her knees, she turned to look at his face. The view of his dead, sightless eyes made her heart plummet and question her frantic, inadequate actions. She should be in the Great Hall right now, helping to heal the injured and grieving for the dead.
But this man was a loss to the war as well, and Hermione decided he deserved the attention, even if it was only in death. All of the other heroes that died this day would have mourners, all except for this man. Severus Snape had no one and she decided to either save him or mourn his passing.
While brushing the strands of matted hair from his face, she tilted his chin up and cradled his head in the crook of her left arm, then pried his parched lips open with the fingers of her right hand. Slightly repelled at holding the snarky old Potions master in such an intimate way, she tried to hold back the nausea threatening to overpower her at the smell of bodily fluids and death assailing her nose. She then gave life a final shot and emptied the blood replenisher into his mouth. The potion bubbled back up and dripped down along his jaw. Realising that he no longer possessed a swallow reflex, she massaged the fluid down his throat.
Whilst her hand could feel the rough stubble under his chin, she became aware that she could no longer feel that pulsating beat that meant life. Sobs shook her slender frame, her face becoming drenched in tears and mucus. She wiped a hand across her nose in a vain attempt to clear the mess, smearing dirt and the professor's blood over herself. Peering through bleary eyes, Hermione looked for a last time at the one cradled in her arms.
"Come on, professor, look at me," she pleaded, uselessly echoing his words to Harry. "Look at me, please... please, professor, don't die!"
The distraught girl racked her brains for any other life saving methods, she could think of plenty of muggle ones; CPR, mouth to mouth resuscitation,as she thought of the likelihood of any of these options working on a powerful wizard, another sob escaped her. She hovered over his dry, cracked lips, with the idea of mouth to mouth. The uselessness of such an action hit her before she made contact with the dying proffesor. However finding herself so close to the professors face, She childishly pressed her mouth to his anyway, while her tears dripped down onto him. She tried not to shudder at the vile taste of death. Quickly removing her lips from his mouth she let out a hysterical laugh, her thoughts mocked her naivety. 'How stupid! what was that going to do? I'm not a princess trying to wake a prince for heaven's sake, this is not a fairy tale, so what was the point of that, why did I do it?'
At that moment she knew it was time to give up and say goodbye to the misunderstood man. 'When there's no help left to give, a kiss goodbye is free to Bestow. At least if any part of him was still conscious, it will have let him know that in the final moments of his life, someone tried to save him, someone understood him, if only for a few minutes before he died. In the calm acceptance of the inevitable, as she waited to be sure that the professor had died, Hermione contemplated that oldest form of magic, the one Voldemort always ignored and failed to master. The power they hoped to destroy him with was merely the simple love of a human for their fellow-man, given freely in hope and forgivness. The Greeks had called this love agape; a principled, self-sacrificing love greater than any other. Maybe that was the reason for the chaste kiss given a moment ago. There was no denying that this man had been truly horrible to them all for a long time. But as Dumbledore's spy, what had been real? What was a mask? His memories would tell. It didn't matter, he was gone, but maybe the kiss sent him in peace. Hermione couldn't help feeling that if he was aware of her odd action, he would be screaming inside at the very thought of a Gryffindor girl behaving so in appropriately with very little dignity. Hermione looked at the still professor with sorrow. Agape love seemed to have come much too late to aid the fallen wizard.
A bitter taste filled her mouth as she slowly drew back from him. Horrified, she realised what she had just done. She had ingested a small amount of the poison that lingered on Professor Snape's lips.
"How could I be so stupid?" she moaned.
Grabbing one of the bottles scattered beside her, she hastily opened it and swallowed what was left of the anti-venom. Soon, she began to retch, and then she heard a rasping, rattling noise of someone trying to breathe,Was that the Proffesor?It was a sound she didn't think was coming from her. As her eyes started to close, she was still hoping against hope for the continuation of his life, her life, the lives of everyone she held dear, and for victory against Voldemort.
She tightly clutched Snape's body to herself and whispered in a frail voice, "Please, someone help us all."
And like in a dream, she heard a voice softly say, "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
She felt a rush of air, heard a hint of a sweet melody, and then the quiet flapping of wings. Little droplets fell onto her face as the world faded away...
Whispered words, muffled footsteps, the smell of enforced hygiene with the pungent odors of astringents and raw alcohol, penetrated Hermione's sleeping mind.
The small witch lay prostrate on her trolley medical bed.
Three young people had their heads on the bed, sound asleep. Two of the sleeping visitors had shocks of red hair and the other an untidy thatch of brown hair. Hermione's fingers twitched and between her eyelashes she could make out a shaft of bright light. Her lips were parched and her throat blazed. The gears in her mind began to turn; she knew she was in a hospital before she fully pried her sore eyelids apart. As she began to stir, Harry woke up with a jolt.
"Hermione, it's us. You're ok now. Do you need anything? What can we do?"
Ginny and Ron also sat up with a start, grabbing at Hermione's hands.
"Who won?" was the breathless and labored reply.
"We did. He's gone for good and he can't hurt us anymore. We have lost lots of friends, but we are so pleased you're awake." Harry coughed as he tried not to cry. "I don't think I could have borne it if my best friends hadn't made it through. We've fought so hard. We had to finish together."
As Harry finished speaking they all leaned over Hermione in a joint kind of a hug.
"Blimey, Harry," breathed Ron, "Hermione can't say you have the emotional depth of a teaspoon. That was almost poetic, mate."
Hermione tried to smile but grimaced in pain at the same time.
"Hermione, I'm going to get the mediwitch. You need a pain reliever and they need to know you're back with us. I will be back in a minute." Ginny bustled off to find the healers.
"How long have I been here?" Hermione asked in her very small, pained voice.
"A week. Honestly, Hermione, we were all so worried. Mum has been absolutely demented about you," gushed Ron. "We all have been, actually." He blushed.
"Did I miss Fred's...?" Hermione started but couldn't finish as a wave of nausea rolled over her at the thought of the Weasleys' loss.
Two fat tears dropped off Ron's nose. "No, his memorial is next Tuesday," he sniffed, "but you are not to come if the mediwitch says no; you've been in a coma for a week."
The boys sat at opposite sides of Hermione, each holding one of her hands as her eyes started to close.
"I think you need your painkillers and a rest," said Harry, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose with one finger as they had slipped down.
"Don't leave me," Hermione croaked.
"We will stay if we can," Harry whispered "Rest now, please. Don't worry, you're safe."
The mediwitch bustled in, followed closely by Ginny, and in a low soothing tone she said, "Hello, my dear. You can have no idea how happy everyone is that you are awake, but I think you need to have some pain potion and a dreamless sleep potion to help you recover fully. I'm going to give them to you now, my love."
The fussy but kind-looking mediwitch lifted Hermione's head gently and fed her the potions. Noticing how dry her patient's mouth was, she quickly cast a moisture replenishing charm on her. Laying the girl back down, she straightened her sheets and did a quick vitals spell, which she transferred to a chart at the end of the bed with a flick of her wand.
The door opened again and a tall, severe wizard dressed in healers robes glided into the room.
"I hear our heroine has briefly awoken. May I have her charts? I wish to see if the anti-venom I brewed has cleared her system fully," he said as he walked over with his hand outstretched.
"Yes, here they are, Healer Smethwyck."
Healer Smethwyck took the charts, flipping through them with his furrowed brow indicating his concern, but his expression lightened as he read the most recent note.
Smethwyck looked around the room and spotted Ron and Ginny. "I would hazard a guess that you are both Weasleys with those red heads of yours."
The siblings grimaced politely; they had heard this many times before.
"Your father was in this ward a few years ago, and it's purely because I was the healer that day that I knew which antidote to use for this young lady. It was the same snake. She's very lucky." He smiled at them and as he spoke, the severity of his officious look slipped for a moment. "Now, I am sorry but visiting hours on the Dai Llewelyn ward are very strict and they ended an hour ago. You all look so exhausted. You need to recover too. It is time to leave, but you may come back tomorrow."
As the mediwizard spoke, Hermione stirred restlessly as if she could still hear and was unhappy, despite, for all intents and purposes, appearing to be asleep.
Harry coughed sheepishly. "Please, Healer Smethwyck, I just promised her she wouldn't be alone. We also don't know where her parents are at the moment. Could one of us stay?" Harry looked at the healer pleadingly.
"It's difficult to refuse our heroes anything," he sighed. "You are not to worry her with unnecessary talk if she wakes. You must call the healer on duty. Do you understand?"
"Well, yes, it's not complicated and I'm not daft," snapped Harry.
"We are all concerned for her, Mr. Potter," replied the healer.
"I apologize, sir. Lack of sleep has given me a short temper. We are grateful for the care you and your staff have shown her," placated Harry.
"Healer Pertwee, can you make the necessary sleeping arrangements and see the rest of Miss Granger's well-wishers out?" He nodded at the fussy little witch and turned to leave. "Thank you for saving the wizarding world, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley," he said, walking past Ginny to go through the door. "You too, miss. Goodnight. Get some sleep."
Then he disappeared down the long white hallway.
"All right then, who's staying?" asked Healer Pertwee in cheerful tones.
Harry turned his tired face to look at his friends.
"Ginny, Ron, you both need to see your mother and give her the good news. She needs you under her roof for a while with the rest of your family. I will stay. You guys and Hermione are the only family I have, so I need to. Do you mind, Ginny?" He smiled up at her while running his hand through his hair, which was already a mess from briefly sleeping against Hermione's bed.
"Not at all, that's fine." Ginny yawned, then smiled and kissed Harry's forehead.
"Urgh, that I didn't need to see! Pass me Hermione's sick bucket, I need to share," Ron snorted with a disgusted look on his face. "See you in the morning, Harry. We will be back after breakfast. Send a patronus if you need anything, mate. You know, like some of mum sausages, 'cause the food here… Well, the less said the better. Yuck." The redhead shuddered.
"Ronald, is your stomach all you think about?" snapped Ginny
"Is snogging Harry all you think about?" retorted Ron.
Harry laughed. "Goodnight, guys."
He could still hear their voices as they traipsed away down the corridor.
"Don't make me bat bogey you, Ronald!"
Their familiar bickering made him chuckle. It was a slow process, but some things were slowly going back to normal and it felt better.
The mediwitch conjured a small put up bed by Hermione's. She then gave Harry some hospital issue pajamas, and he was pleased to note that his backside would be covered. He thanked the witch and went to wash and change in the bathroom. When he came out he thanked her again, then she dimmed the lights and wished him a goodnight. The exhausted teen gratefully climbed into bed, removed his glasses to a bedside cabinet, and lay down under the cool sheets. He reached over and stroked Hermione's hand.
"Goodnight," he whispered . He was asleep almost instantly.
Some hours later, Hermione shifted in disturbed sleep, the stiff hospital sheet rustling as she moved.
In her dream she saw a pale face, blood-splattered and grotesque. A silvery, shining substance was pouring out of every orifice on the face and long, dark, matted hair stuck to the tortured visage in wisps. Cold, black, dead eyes looked back at her. Hermione knew it was a dream.
'It's a dream, it's a dream,' she chanted to herself in her head.
But that countenance was burned onto the back of her retinas. Despite her pain, she sat up and screamed and screamed and then screamed a name, as her voice began to crack with the strain.
At the first scream, Harry yelled in fright and sat up. He fumbled for his glasses and grabbed his wand, shouted "lumos", then trained his wand on Hermione. She was sobbing, violent shakes wracking her body with every breath, and whispering, having lost the vocal ability to make a noise any louder.
Harry jumped onto her bed and sat behind her to hold her arms in order to stop the flailing. Once he had control, he began pushing her bushy hair out of her face and cooing consolingly to her, rocking her gently from side to side. He had already summoned the healer on duty, and as he waited for one to appear he listened to Hermione's murmuring. It was the same as the shrieking words from before, repeated over and over again.
"Professor, sir, look at me. Please, look at me."
Harry nearly fell off the bed when he put two and two together and recalled the name that she had screamed when she woke him up...
"Severus Snape!"
Two healers ran into the room, pushed Harry away from the bed, and gently restored the trembling woman to a more comfortable position. While carefully holding her in place, they turned their gazes inquiringly to the weary, young man.
"I think it was a nightmare. We watched a professor die in front of us and I think she just relived it. To be honest, I want to ask her about it when she's well. Something's strange about it," Harry explained.
One of the healers looked again at Hermione, cast some diagnostic spells and checked her vitals.
"Ok, the dreamless sleep potion must have run out. I will give her another dose. It's three in the morning, so I will give her enough till 8 o'clock."
The mediwizard began measuring said dose as he spoke. He administered the correct amount and turned to speak to Harry again. His colleague tucked Hermione back in and attempted to smooth her wild hair away from her face.
"May I give you some too, Mr. Potter? I think you need a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. I will check on you both every half hour and I will set wards to warn me of any disturbance. Will you accept the potion?"
Harry sighed. He was exhausted and his dreams were filled with the dead, too. "Yes please, just a little less than Hermione. I have to be there when she wakes up."
The healer nodded and started making up the dosage. Harry glanced at Hermione and was relieved to see her sleeping peacefully once more. For the second time that night, he removed his glasses and placed his wand under his pillow.
He wondered what reason she had for dreaming about Snape.
'So many died… Why focus on that one death? I'll ask her as soon as she is able to talk,' he thought.
The new savior of the wizarding world took his potion and sank into a blissful oblivion.
Four hours later, Harry opened his eyes, at a loss for a moment as to where he was. His memories righted themselves while he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. Peering groggily around the room, he automatically stretched out his arm and felt about for his glasses. Finding them, he popped them on, bringing the St. Mungo's private hospital room into focus. He rolled onto his side and saw Hermione still sleeping serenely. Stretching, he removed the thin sheet from his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The same healer that had been there a few hours before popped his head in from around the door.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I trust you had a good sleep in the end. Shall I remove the wards now?"
Harry smiled and nodded. "I did, thanks. Please call me Harry. Can I freshen up? My hair never behaves at the best of times but I can tell it looks like I've been petrified this morning! I don't want to scare Hermione back into a coma."
The healer laughed "It's pretty freaky hair, it has to be said. Yes, of course. You know where everything is. The bathroom is fully stocked with all necessary hygiene products."
"Thank you," Harry replied.
After saying that he would return in an hour to see how Hermione was, the mediwizard withdrew back into the corridor.
Harry stood up and stretched again, took his wand from under the pillow, grabbed the rumpled jeans and t-shirt he had worn yesterday, and then strolled into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, a much refreshed and tidier young man walked back into the room and took a seat by Hermione's side and waited for her to wake up.
Hermione eyes fluttered, her hands twitched, but this time she calmly awoke without incident. The potions had eased the pain in her mouth and throat, and left her mind feeling greatly revitalized.
"Good morning, 'Mione." Harry smiled and he bent over to kiss her cheek. "Your hospital breath is foul… That will keep the nargles away!" teased Harry.
Hermione huffed out an amused breath. "Is Luna ok?"
"Yes, and I'm receiving daily owls that peck me to death asking when she and Neville can see you. I said I would ask when you were fully awake," replied Harry.
"I want to see them whenever they can come," Hermione said quietly, so as not to strain her sore throat.
"Good. I will send an owl and make it bite them until they send a time of visit." Harry displayed the pecks on his arm from Luna's owls.
Hermione smiled in response. "Thank you for looking after me so well, I feel so much better." She turned away for a second. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"What for?" asked Harry.
"For staying behind. For not going back to the Great Hall. I may have cost lives."
"Don't be silly. You saved many lives over the last seven years and lost none in the last battle. Nobody died after the hour of collecting our dead and wounded." As Hermione winced at the thought, Harry ploughed on. "You're brilliant, Hermione. You are the brightest witch of our age and this war would not have been won without you," he finished.
"I still should have followed and helped. I made a mistake." Hermione gulped painfully.
"I need to write that down in a diary. Hermione made a mistake, underlined. You never make mistakes and I'm sure you didn't this time but what did you do? Why did you stay behind? And how did you get poisoned by Nagini?" The questions were tumbling out of Harry's mouth now. "Why did you scream out Professor Snape's name last night, his first name at that?" Harry stopped and looked horrified. "Merlin's pants, I'm... I'm sorry, Hermione. I was going to wait until you were well to ask you those questions. You... you don't have to answer anything. Don't worry, just get better. It's fine. It's all fine," stuttered Harry.
Hermione shook her head. "It's alright, Harry. I feel so much better, but if I can just get rid of the hospital breath you so kindly pointed out, and well, you know, I really need the loo. So, if you could get a healer to help me, then when I'm fresher, tell me what I missed and I will tell you about my mistake."
As if on cue, the healer lightly tapped on the door and walked into the room.
"Good morning, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, would you like to go to the canteen and get a coffee? I need to run some more tests." He gently pushed Harry towards the door as he spoke. "Pop back in half an hour. We will be all sorted then."
Harry left Hermione with a cheerful wave and went off in the search of coffee. Having purchased it to go, he went outside St. Mungo's to get some breathing space. There were too many staring eyes in the canteen, too many questions in the air. Harry wasn't ready yet for this. His mental scars and wounds were too fresh and he needed just a little longer to recover. Sucking in the crisp morning air and sipping from his paper cup, he enjoyed the feeling of being alive and not expecting death at any second. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, flourished it determinedly, and thought of his friends and their victory.
"Expecto Patronum," he uttered firmly. Silver light erupted from his steady wand and a beautiful ethereal stag bolted off into the horizon.
'Always breathtaking, always cathartic,' Harry thought as he watched it disappear.
He turned around, finished his coffee and marched back through the entrance of St. Mungo's.
At the burrow, a sleepy red-headed family was awoken to a stag gracefully galloping on air through the various rooms until it found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley getting ready to face the day.
Harry's voice rang out from the stag, "Hermione's up, awake and looking forward to visitors."
The stag turned and disappeared, having fulfilled its mission.
Molly Weasley hugged her husband. "Oh Arthur, this is the first time I felt anything since Fred... I'm just so glad we are not going to lose her, too."
Arthur Weasley hugged his wife in return and kissed the top of her head. "So am I, Molly, so am I."
There was a knock at the door. Molly and Arthur broke apart.
"Yes, Ron and Ginny make sVome breakfast and get ready to go visit your friend with mum! She's going to be fine!" shouted out Mr. Weasley. Adding under his breath, "We are all going to be fine."