Hello everyone, I'm TheresaBarette.

A few things before I start my chapter, this was initially a challenge I gave to myself due to a friend of mine having a particular fondness for HermioneXSnape. It's a challenge for me because I do not ship them myself.

At all. In fact, I was a little weirded out when I first discovered them, but in my self-imposed challenge I thought about some interesting ideas and feelings for the characters. How they could/might feel, react, and handle the situations I've built for them.

Be warned; this is an incredibly slow burner of a story. I'm talking chapters that average 3.6K words. It is also a first edit, and I will be ripping a lot out later. You're getting the WIP right now.

And yes, I'm doing Black Hermione.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. I'll be updating sporadically as this is still a single edited and my very first fanfiction.

Love, T.

I regret it.

Those were the final words Tom Riddle said to Severus, his cloak swinging in a wide flow as he turned and left the dusty, morose room of the shack. Nagini floated behind him in a galaxy of pale white and blue, protected. Severus sunk to his knees before succumbing to the dizziness of blood-loss. A dull, low heartbeat pounded through his hand and face while the pain erupted in blinding fire from his neck. A snake in his own right, Voldemort slithered away now that he'd gained the full potential of his wand. There would be no need to watch or wait.

Severus stared at the empty doorway. Was this it? Dumbledore should have told him this was his fate, since he was so aware of death. Death-that elusive thing that seemed draped across Albus Dumbledore like a shadow, seeming to follow his every move. It wasn't fair that Albus got to know when he would die and Snape had to be surprised. Servitude. Loyalty, however grey or not. An unyielding determination. All of this for Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter and he lay on a dirty old floor as reward. His breath was labored now. Severus had come with a contingency, but would it be enough? Was he going to survive? Inside, he already felt dead.

From behind a crate was movement. Severus lifted his eyes to see what horror would advance upon him now, only to see two figures melt into the space just at his feet. A cloak lay bundled on the ground between them. One person was dirty and lanky, a filthy mop of hair swept around the brow sporting a jagged scar. Rounded glasses perched on a nose with a familiar set of dazzling green eyes peered down on Severus in the gloom. If he could scream, he would have. Of course it was Potter, with Hermione in tow. She appeared to be stifling tears of her own.

Wait. Potter. He had so much to tell him! So much that the seemingly perfectly prepared Dumbledore had never passed on. Severus could feel his eyes widen as he focused in on the battle-worn young man, the spitting image of his father. But there was more to him then, in the darkness, that he could see. The kindness everybody talked so much about was apparent in his eyes even as Potter glared at him. Potter was not cruel enough to be hateful to a man dying, and Severus not proud enough to miss this opportunity. He could feel himself drawing up the strength to speak while magic began to brew in the pit of his gut. Potter leaned in far enough for Snape to reach with his free hand for the front of Potter's school robes.

"T-take it...take...it," Severus forced out from behind his blood-soaked mouth. As he fought to speak, the memories of his life, his answer and guide for everything Potter would need to do, poured from his being. It trickled from his eyes like tears, his lips like words. The essence of his mind was there. Potter's eyes flickered around for an answer while Severus prayed he would someday grow out of his dullness. Behind him Granger produced a large flask for him with lightning speed, and Potter was able to scoop the trail of smoky white plasma into the container. Time was running as thin as Severus' blood. It was drawing near to the moment of truth.

Lily. Her face flashed across his mind. Her auburn hair only half-trapped in a messy ponytail, her deep green eyes that lingered in his vision as her son watched his face. Lily Evans. A tremble broke out from within him. Would he get to see her again? All these long years fighting the good fight, would he be rewarded then? Her voice seemed to call to him from a thousand eons ago. Sev. She used to call him Sev.

The contingency was kicking in. It forced his heart to speed back up, the skin around his neck warming once more. Serverus' lungs didn't feel so heavy now. The potion was clotting his blood at an alarming rate, but the wound would need to be closed soon. Severus felt his vision kaleidoscope in a flash. It was now or never. Either he would wake a few hours from now, or he'd be thrown into the great beyond. Severus was not a superstitious man...but he hoped if it was the latter, that a certain Gryffindor would be waiting for him.

"Look...at...me..." Severus commanded in a hiss. Potter's eyes shot up to meet Severus' own as his fingers pressed the cork down onto the flask. Green. They were as green as Scotland. As green as the emeralds in the Slytherin hourglass. As green as the envy in Severus' heart. Just green.

Severus felt his hand fall away from his neck. He could relax now. His vision clouded. All he could see was green.

Madam Pomfrey had witnessed many things in her tenure at Hogwarts; both the expected and the unforeseen. She'd seen beautiful things to, like the sunset over the Black Lake and the edges of the Forbidden Forest lined in mist. There were good things and bad things mixed in everywhere. A broken arm during Quidditch only to find out your House still won, or the bad taste of teenage years. So many girls and boys coming to her for acne treatment. But she'd never seen the ravages of a war.

Smoke and screams, her skills and thin resources being put to the ultimate limit-it was all so much to deal with. Madam Pomfrey worked her hands just as often as she worked her wand, sometimes splinting broken bones with the weak threads of a ripped shirt. They were a mix of students in varying degrees of need. Some even died in her arms.

Ginny Weasley helped bring students in during the battle that she could spare. Bless her heart, she had the makings of a good mentor or mother. Her natural instincts to help were something Madam Pomfrey had seen in herself so many years ago. A few Ravenclaw students helped work in teams, using their knowledges together. A few Slytherins who were loyal to their true friends guarded the doors and protected the fort of the Great Hall while Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs collected the students they could. So many tears. Death was a sinking cloud over these mere children, and while her hair flew loose from under her bonnet with stress, Madam Pomfrey could see the death reflected in the survivors' eyes.

Almost as soon as it all started, it was over. Cries and cheers mingled in the hall as people embraced their living friends, and even the dead ones. Their lives were torn apart-but their future was ahead of them. They had made it.

Then began the job of laying the dead together to be collected. It was a task done in love and grief. Some friends insisted on staying beside their fallen comrades until they were certain somebody could come get them. The strong did these things, mostly. Madam Pomfrey was able to guide them. That was the moment Hermione Granger came up to her with wet eyes.

"I need help...and I don't think anybody else will help me, Madam Pomfrey," Granger said through her cracked lips. She looked exhausted. Her beautiful chestnut hair was knotted in a huge nest at the nape of her neck, sweat-coated and full of debris. A smattering of scrapes and burns peppered her once bright face. Hermione was usually followed closely by either Harry Potter or Ron Weasely, but she seemed to have slipped away from them. Madam Pomfrey wiped her ointment and blood covered hands on her torn apron with a sigh. Help. Everyone needed it.

"Miss Granger, I am rather occupied," Madam Pomfrey indicated to the people waiting to see her. Hermione shuffled back and forth as twin leaks started to run down her cheeks. They must have stung because she winced as they raced over her scratched face. Hermione leaned in and cupped her both of her hands around Madam Pomfrey's ear. They blocked out some of the commotion but it was enough to catch Madam Pomfrey's attention. Upon hearing the words expressed with crackling sadness, Madam Pomfrey felt her heart seize up and then relax in sadness. So, him too.

As Hermione pulled away, her face pinched even harder. She was obviously torn about this. Looking at the students waiting, Madam Pomfrey made a difficult decision while waving McGonagall over who had just stormed into the Great Hall as a Headmistress should.

"Minervera...Miss Granger knows where Severus is," she said in a low tone. The deep grey eyes of the professor hardened into steel at the mention, but flickered toward Hermione who wore a guilty presence like a coat. "She wants to know if I can help her retrieve his body." At the mention of just a body, Minervera's thin lips fell open. Her shaking hand wiped away the wispy hair messily framing her face before straightening her shoulders.

"I'll take charge of the students, Poppy. Please hurry back. We need you," McGonagall's voice said crisply as she waved forward the next waiting student. Hermione looked more relieved by the second as Madam Pomfrey directed her to lead the way to Severus. There was no ceremony or announcement. They just moved from the Great Hall out into the night.

Madam Pomfrey was able to Apparate them just outside the Shrieking Shack as directed by Hermione, the darkness around them still and alluring. Hermione sucked in a few more breaths and wiped at her eyes again as the world stopped spinning in Madam Pomfrey's vision.

"Thank you," Hermione said while trying to compose herself. A faded rose-colored scar of the word Mudblood stood raised on her cool dusky skin as she rolled up her sleeves. "I don't think anybody else would help me. Everyone hated him."

"Are you aware of the Hypocratic Oath, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," Hermione replied while they began their walk up the winding pathway, beyond the Keep Out signs tacked to the fence. "It says you're not supposed to do harm as a caregiver."

"It's more than that though," Madam Pomfrey said as she drew her cloak around herself a little tighter. "It's a code of honor. Some even see it as a code of life; that you should not do harm against anyone intentionally, and to give everything you have. But most importantly that if you break your oath you should lose your reputation. And I like to keep my reputation impermeable to accusation that I did not do all that I could for somebody who needed it."

She tucked her arms across her chest. There was a cold feeling that sank deep into her bones, though the night was pleasant. Were it another time, Madam Pomfrey might have strolled the courtyards rather than this hideous location. They passed through the creaky wooden door with no hesitation. Inside was stripped and peeling wallpaper, cobwebs, rickety steps that groaned with the threat of giving away, and she could almost feel the dust in her nose. Hermione pulled out her wand and lit the way for them as she passed Madam Pomfrey on the stairs. Her usually strong hands shook with the most gentle of rhythms. On arriving at the second level, a black-clad figure lay against the far wall in a pool of his sticky blood.

Severus Snape looked as still as she'd ever seen him. Not that he was a particularly animated man, of course. His spells were like his wardrobe; crisp and of simple. A man like Severus had no need for flamboyance. Madam Pomfrey let out her sigh as Hermione dabbed at her eyes again. He seemed like a discarded doll. She kneeled down and looked him over before pausing. Could it be? Madam Pomfrey thought it perhaps a trick of the soft glow from the wand but she saw it was entirely true-the chest of Severus Snape heaved with breath and life.

"Merlin...he's alive!" Madam Pomfrey gasped. Hermione lunged forward to confirm it for herself, and then after a few seconds she was giggling a watery laugh. His chest bent inwards as that long breath was released. Thinking on her feet, Madam Pomfrey turned to Hermione and grabbed at her leg. Hermione squeaked and jumped in shock but her attention was fully given. "Stay here with him, I'll hurry back with supplies!"

"I can go! What do we need? Surely you can do more here than I can?" Hermione said while she knelt at Madam Pomfrey's side. Her wand's glow gave the sallow, death-colored face a ghostly blue hue to it. If Severus could hear them he was not going to show it. Madam Pomfrey shook her head as she stood, her own wand working to cast protective spells over Severus' limp frame. Some of Madam Pomfrey's best spell-work was her containment charms that she layered like blankets over him.

"This is time sensitive and I know where my supplies are. I'll be right back-hello?" Madam Pomfrey said, whirling about. There were heavy boots behind her, approaching at a slow pace. A sweat began to form at the nape of her neck. Somebody with evil intent was coming. Hermione stood and raised her wand toward the door with a new firmness in her arm. A groan from behind the women indicated Severus was waking, but they did not turn toward him.

"Is that Severus Snape?" a voice called out from the stairwell just beyond sight. In the darkness of the Shrieking Shack, not even wand light touched the person. Madam Pomfrey raised her own wand while resting a protective hand on Hermione's free arm.

"Who is that?"

"The Dark Lord will live again."

The room erupted into a flurry of magic and motion. Hermione's arm swung to deflect the oncoming spell, knocking it behind her with something like a tennis serve while Madam Pomfrey attempted to do something much different. She tried to Apparate, and something in the middle went horribly wrong.

As she was ripped from the room in the Shrieking Shack Madam Pomfrey was tossed unceremoniously into the space between Here and There, her body slamming into the ground somewhere just north of the castle. A few students trained their wands on her immediately as she looked about in shock. Hagrid came bounding up to her in a few short strides as he commanded students to put their wands down. Madam Pomfrey looked about the scene like a lost child.

"Ma'am Pomfrey! What happened to yer?" Hagrid said as he heaved her up with one dinner-plate sized hand. Madam Pomfrey was standing in no time, but her legs were shaky. A frustrated scream boiled from inside her and leaped out in a burst, causing Hagrid to recoil in shock. "Are yer hurt?"

"Damn it! Damn it, no! They're both gone and I lost them!" Madam Pomfrey cried out in a furious wail, her fists balled at her sides. Hagrid's eyes were wide as he watched her tantrum. Knowing that time was literally of the essence she pushed past Hagrid and ran toward the castle as fast as her feet would let her. Hagrid kept stride in a half-jog.

"Who, Poppy?"

"Hermione Granger and Severus Snape! I have to speak with McGonagall, now!"

Severus could feel the chill of his fingers but not much else. A light glittered from just past his eyelids, the pale beams just attracting his senses. So, no rest for the wicked. He felt heavy, chained down by some force that kept him in place. Severus felt a deep fire in his gut and the wound at his neck ached like hell. He heard a gentle gasp in front of his face that would have startled him had he still had the energy to react. A voice, Madam Pomfrey maybe, declared him alive, but Severus felt only alive in the strictest of terms. Another soft voice joined in that was almost familiar to Severus but he couldn't quite place it.

Without warning, a hot prickling he knew all too well came over his left forearm. Somebody was trying to find him. Move, you sniveling worm! Severus urged himself. He struggled even to open his eyelids but was unable to do so himself. From deep in his chest he was able to let out a soft groan, hoping to tell Madam Pomfrey and her assistant to flee. No more slaughter today, please.

"Hello?" Madam Pomfrey called out. A voice from someplace unseen murmured out the words Severus Snape. Fighting against the heavy magics layered over him, Severus lifted his head with deep force and was able to crack open his eyes. Two blurred shapes stood in front of him, their wands pointed into the darkness beyond the doorway.

"The Dark Lord will live again."

The room was illuminated so quickly Severus had to fight the urge to close his eyes to the flashing brightness. Bolts of blue shot from the darkness at the figure in front of him, and she used her wand to deflect…but somehow threw it backwards instead of forward. She must have learned that sloppy defense spell-work from the D.A., without a doubt. It collided with Severus so powerfully he could feel the lifting of the magic begin, but it was too late to fix what was next to be done. Madam Pomfrey started her Apparating—but it warped and bent the entire room. Severus was overcome with the fear of being splinched, so with his remaining strength to push against the containment charms he latched onto the wrist of the young woman in front of him.

Severus was thrown through the room as the world around him spun and stretched. The expected hook-behind-the-navel feeling was not there, but rather it felt like his whole body was being dragged down through a never-ending sea of pressure. Just when it seemed like it was all too much to bear, Severus collided with the earth, firm and unforgiving against his already pain-wracked body.

Beneath himself he could feel wet fresh grass. Above him, a swirl of grey and afternoon gold that had started to sprinkle from the distant black clouds. Under Severus' left arm was a wrist leading into the coughing figure of Hermione Granger as she struggled to catch her breath. As the sky started to bring the rain onto them, Severus' world fell black again.