Hermione was honestly angry over the whole thing. The fact that Severus, a man who was so complex yet so selfless had been cast aside and forgotten about didn't bode well with her.
She would have at least expected Draco or Narcissa Malfoy to stop by and visit him, but they never did. Of all the people in the whole world, she at least thought his supposed friends would have given him a few hours of their time; how wrong she was. His own damn God Son couldn't even take a few minutes of his day to sit by his bedside and talk to him.
Of course, Lucius couldn't visit him even if he wanted to, not that he would because he was much too self-absorbed to care about anyone else within his world. But now Lucius lay in wait for the trial date to come by, and she hoped deep down that he was going to get the kiss. But of course he was, his list of charges had been longer than her own arm.
She was equally unhappy that Harry had not come to visit him, sure, the two of them perhaps had not seen eye to eye and Snape had acted like he hated Harry, but that was so far from the truth. She couldn't exactly bring the subject up with Harry because then would come a thousand questions, the what, the who the how and the why and then he would know that she had been going to see him. Not that she was ashamed she had been going to see him, she just didn't want to play answer a million questions and others may think she had some motive for doing so.
The truth was, Hermione just wanted to help people, people hurt directly or indirectly by the war, people who had lost loved ones and the ones that now lay in hospital beds without a cure. She hated knowing those people lay in wait without anyone or anything to help them because of the simple fact, there was no magic on earth that could or would help; that is what didn't sit right with her.
She had read books, researched the best she knew how locally and abroad, and all avenues were exhausted, and she was no closer to finding a cure or helping him. Deep down inside of her, she knew that he probably would ever wake up, and if he did, he would probably never be the same person he was. But never the less, she wanted to help, she needed to help. She wasn't one to sit idly by in the world when something needed doing.
Hermione spent the next few hours alone with him, she had shed many a tear and told him many a secret in her time here, she felt comfortable about him in a silly way. She knew he probably couldn't hear her, but it gave her the satisfaction that she had opened up to someone. She cried about Ron, she laughed about Harry, she told him how angry she was with herself for not being able to help him. She had spilled many tears over his robes, her head buried into the black wool as if it were comforting her and keeping her safe. It was stupid really, she had never been very attached to him when he was conscious, in fact, she used to give him a wide berth, she wouldn't say she feared him, but she respected him and knew how to not grind on his nerves. And now she felt as if she were his friend in a stupid way.
She had always seen Severus as the dour old Potions Master who took no shit from anyone. Abrasive and uncaring. She was sure he made it his mission to be as evil and uncaring as humanly possible.
He was a hard taskmaster, but she was thankful for that, she liked to be pushed and tested and test her he did. Her opinion of him changed the day she had seen the memories that he had shared with Harry. He was mistaken and misunderstood and for one fleeting moment, she realised why he was the way he was.
She had left the pensive, shaking, heartbreaking for the lost and lonely man who had no one left in his life that he had cared for or cared for him. And it was that day she knew she had to make a difference, even if that meant sitting here with him and spending a few hours a week with him. A small gesture on her behalf but perhaps it could have meant the world to him.
She had often wondered what would become of him should he wake up. Would he be the same person he was and stand up tall and mighty and walk from the hospital one large step at a time, or would he be a shell of his former self, withdraw and angry at the world, stuck in the hospital bed unable to do anything for himself?
Her hand held hard onto his, her warm flesh mingling with his cold flesh, a thumb traced lazy circles on the back of his hand. She couldn't exactly remember the time she had started holding his hand, but she remembered how right it felt. He had never responded, not even a sharp inhale of breath had even been passed that perhaps would have told Hermione that he was still there on some level.
So today when his hand twitched beneath hers even harder than the first time, she jumped slightly, heart pumping in her chest. His own thumb began to trace small circles on the back of her hand, in the same manner, she had afforded him. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. Surely this had to be a dream?
Moments later his strong grip seized her around the wrist, grip tightening hard it was surely going to cut off the circulation.
A deep jagged inhaled breath and the fluttering of lids told Hermione he was a lot more awake than she had realised.
"Lily?" His voice a ghostly whisper as he sat bolt-upright in the bed, staring right through Hermione as if she weren't sitting there.
"Take Harry and run Lily," He screamed as loud as he could, fear fluttering behind Hermione's eyes as his grip tightened substantially more on her wrist.
"Lily, go," he bellowed at the top of his lungs before crashing back onto the bed, eyes closed and the grip loosened on her wrist.
She had to tell someone, the doctors, his nurses, she was sure no one would believe her, hell, she wasn't even sure if she believed what happened herself.
A/N: A quick update for you all. I am humbled by all the likes and reviews I got for the first chapter. Thank you all! This is the last chapter I will ever write this year… But the good news is, the new year (In Australia) is only 55 minutes away. Just a filler chapter, hoping to get to the good stuff soon.
