A/N: No copyright infringement intended. I do not own anything you recognize.

Wake me up inside.

Call my name and save me from the dark.

Bid my blood to run.

Before I come undone.

Save me from the nothing I've become.

Bring Me To Life, Evanescence

Chapter One

Three Years Earlier…

She jerked up, throwing the bed sheets from the small mattress and grabbing her wand. Hermione Granger took a look around her, and relaxed when she realized all Harry had done was put his hand on her shoulder to wake her. She looked at her best friend and let out a deep breath. "Sorry. I guess it's just a habit, now," she said apologetically.

"Don't worry. I actually hexed George when he woke me up," he smiled weakly.

Hermione rubbed her cheek absentmindedly and let out a small laugh. "I suppose we'll have to work on that reflex. Thirty days to break a habit."

"I suppose so," Harry replied.

A distant voice came from down the staircase. "Oi! Harry!"

Hermione looked puzzled. "Oh, since I came up here in the first place, they need some extra help in the Hospital Wing. Actually, we've relocated to the Great Hall. It's much bigger. Anyway, they've got tons of helpless blokes like me and Ron doing the minor stuff, but they need people for the big things."

Hermione stood up and pulled on a pair of jeans. She and Harry were beyond averting their eyes at one's underwear. "Tell them I'll be right there," she said hurriedly.

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Hermione found herself among rows upon rows of wounded and dead people. She closed her eyes tightly, half-wishing that this was all a dream, that none of this had happened. When she reopened them, she found herself looking into the tired eyes of Madam Pomfrey. "I was told you needed help for the major wounds?"

Madam Pomfrey breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand on Hermione's forearm. "Oh, thank you! Let me help you with our system, here. There are some that are sorting out the living and the dead, and they bring the living to this side of the Hall. More towards the staff table are the ones in critical condition. Go find a patient and do the best you can, dear. Oh, thank you for your help!"

The Healer bustled off to assist Luna with a vat of some unknown potion, and Hermione started walking towards the end of the hall. She immediately busied herself in healing a nasty gash across Blaise Zabini's throat.

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She spent nearly all day healing. And when everyone was tucked in, she collapsed on the floor beside an empty bed, exhausted. Ron walked over and sat beside her. They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione said, "You know. I think I'm going to take the night watch, too."

Ron looked at her, puzzled. "You have to be tired, Hermione. Are you—"

"I'm sure, Ron. I just feel like I need to help out as much as I can."

She turned to him and smiled, and he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm off to bed, then," he said. "Be sure to get some sleep sometime," he said as he got to his feet.

"I will."

Ron walked towards the Grand Staircase and disappeared out of sight. Hermione looked up at the familiar Hall ceiling. It was covered in beautiful stars, an image of outer space. Everything was much quieter, now that mostly everyone was gone. She pushed herself to her feet and started wandering, occasionally getting a glass of water for an ailing person.

She didn't know why, but she found herself being drawn to the lifeless corpses on the right side of the hall. She walked up and down the rows. Oh, how peaceful they looked. Fred Weasley had a smirk still etched on his face, even in death. The light of the stars reflected on the pallor of his skin. Hermione remembered Harry telling her that there most definitely was a Heaven, and found herself imagining Fred having a good laugh with the Marauders about George's missing ear joke. She smiled as she walked, her eyes grazing over the lidded eyes of the dead.

She came to a total stop at the feet of her former Potions Master, Severus Snape. His hands, like everyone else's, were folded primly over his chest. It seemed unnatural to Hermione. He had never carried himself like that in life, why should he in death? She sat on her knees at his feet He had kept his secret so perfectly well. Her respect for him had exponentially increased since his death. What a shame; he could never have been a human being for the rest of the world to see. Only Dumbledore. Why would you want to hide that part of you, Professor? The part of you that made you human?

She had always known that there had to be some reason for him to be the way he was. How could there not be? No human being, no matter what Ron said, could be born as cynical as he was. She could see it in his eyes, she could tell that he had been through much more than the rest of the world could tell. And, logically, it made sense to trust him. Dumbledore never displayed a bad judge of character, but clearly, he did. Whenever Snape had been ruthless in class, or needlessly unfair, Hermione always thought back to her pity for him. How could you not pity someone in such a wreck as he was?

Even during the war, when Hermione thought Snape had betrayed them, she felt sorry for him. Sorry that he had no where else to turn. And when Harry had revealed that Snape had been in love with his mother, it all came crashing down on Hermione, how much it all made sense. Why was he unfair to Harry? Because every time he looked at him, he saw James Potter with Lily's eyes. He saw what should have been his child.

Hermione knees were drawn up to her chest at this point, and she found it unbearable to see Severus Snape's hands clasped so tightly together. She reached forward and peeled them apart and placed them at his side, one by one. Just as she laid the left arm down by his side, his right hand reached across and grabbed her wrist and twisted it away in one swift motion.

Hermione shrieked and scuttled backwards. She ignored the searing pain in her wrist as Severus Snape—who was dead—twitched his fingers. She crawled over to the side of his head and watched as his eyes opened. She held her hand up to her mouth as he sat up and looked around, in that same, masculine manner he always carried himself in. She sat back as far away as she could from him as he looked into her eyes.

"P-P-Professor?" She whispered.

He looked just as surprised as she did. "Miss Granger? Where am I?" He demanded loudly.

"You're in the Great Hall. At Hogwarts," she replied.

He got to his feet, and swayed a little bit. He put his hand to his head, but saw the look on Hermione's concerned (yet terrified) face, and scolded himself internally for allowing her to see his moment of weakness. He attempted to walk and staggered a bit, as if he were a deer learning to walk. His chest heaved as he coughed blood onto the ground.

"Professor…I'm going to ask you to lie down," Hermione said loudly, finally getting over the shock of seeing someone come back to life.

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly healthy," he snapped back, still not looking at her.

"Sir, you were dead for about two days. As a temporary Healer, I am telling you to lie down in an available bed," Hermione ordered.

Severus Snape rounded on her incredulously. "I will not lie down, Miss Granger. It is not your place to tell me when I can and cannot walk around. I do not have to answer to you, and I am perfectly able to tell for myself when—"

He was cut off by her Stunning spell. "Wingardium Leviosa," she muttered, and directed the limp form of Severus Snape to the bed she and Ron had exchanged earlier. Then, she ran off to find Madam Pomfrey, or anyone else that might have a clue as to what was going on.

A/N: So, a bit of a mystery going on! Hm….

A review would be nice =)