At some point between chapter 33 and 88

Without a word, Snape held out his hand.

Hermione winced. For a split second, she wanted to turn on her heels and run for it. But she was a Gryffindor. And besides, he could fly. He'd catch her before she reached the Apparition point. Biting down hard on her quivering lip, Hermione handed over the scorched, dark-green journal.

For a long moment, her master stared at the book. Then he turned away. Hermione didn't move, she hardly dared to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut.

The sound of pages being turned echoed noisily in the laboratory.

The swishing sound of robes forced her to open her eyes again. Snape was staring at her, his gaze unfathomable. "I was not aware that this still existed," he remarked in low voice that was still a little rough around the edges of certain sounds. "No doubt a gift from that imbecile Potter."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Hermione gulped and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Contemplatively Snape opened the book at a seemingly random page.

"I wonder if Muggles sometimes use potions without knowing what they are doing," he read. "Those herbal mixtures that Mrs. Fian sells, for example. Their ingredients are also used in potions."

He gave Hermione a long look.

"Forget about the Muggles. You're a witch now," he added.

He turned a few pages. "Severus was right about Muggles. They are a pain in the arse. Especially my sister. She actually believes that Aspirin can cure lovesickness. There's not even a potion for that."

Hermione knew the next words by heart. "Damn you, Severus."

With a slow, precise gesture, Snape laid the book on the table.

"You don't need this journal," he said curtly. "Or my old potions book. You're supposed to be a Gryffindor. How about a little self-confidence, Miss Granger?"

oooOooo

Shortly before chapter 77 of "Apprentice"

"Come on, ring it!" Roger de Audebert challenged. "Or are you scared of an itty-bitty bell?"

He was an exchange student from Beauxbatons and an absolute git. Alina tightened her grip around the mahogany handle. Of course she was not afraid of the bell. It was just a toy! Still, something made her hesitate.

"Yes, please," begged Geilis, "I want to know what it sounds like!"

Geilis reminded her of a puppy. A little spaniel; all flying ears, wagging tail and clumsy paws.

Ciardha Vaisey groaned. "Do it or shut up, kids, will you?"

Suddenly annoyed, Alina rang her bell.

oooOooo

Sometime before chapter 243 of "Apprentice"

The room was a wreckage: the table reduced to a heap of splintered wood, the bed trashed.

The girl lay collapsed on the mattress. Rushing to her side, Sister Claire realised with relief that she had only fainted. Examining her more closely, Sister Claire winced. The girl's hands were covered with blood, nails were torn off, splinters stuck deeply embedded in her palms.

The poor girl, the nun thought.

Not for the first time Sister Claire wondered what had had broken the mind of the bishop's illegitimate daughter as completely as she had broken the furniture of her cell …

oooOooo

Within chapter 246 of "Apprentice"

Somehow they will find me.

Hermione looked at her list for the best case scenario for a long time. She grew aware of her breathing. Soft and steady. Of her heartbeat. Slow and regular. Of her weariness. Her bones ached with it. The gentle voices of the nuns rose in song. The evening prayer. Sunlight painted the walls of Hermione's cell golden.

No one will find me.

Another breath.

They are all dead.

But her heart kept beating.

One day, I will die here.

An odd sense of peace enveloped her. She deleted the list and switched off the laptop.

oooOooo

At the end of chapter 248 of "Apprentice"

Docile under a Ministry-sanctioned Imperius, the nun opened the door of the cell. Severus needed all his willpower not to rush inside and simply grab Hermione.

He almost gasped in the crushing grip of the wards. He wore a talisman so his power could not be drained, but he would not be able to use magic. A sensible precaution – no one knew if Hermione was still sane after seventeen months imprisoned in this cell. And he knew from experience just how dangerous an insane witch was, even without a wand.

But surely not Hermione. Not his own, foolish Gryffindor.

Swallowing hard, he stepped inside.

She lay on her back, on a threadbare mattress. At first he only noticed her hair, bushy, brown, matted, a veritable rat's nest. Then her eyes. They were huge and dark in a tiny, pinched face. Sightlessly, she stared up at the ceiling. She did not react to his presence at all. Slowly he knelt down next to her.

She was so pale that she appeared nearly translucent. He could see the delicate blue-green spiderweb of the veins underneath her skin. For second, icy fear gripped his heart – was she still breathing at all? But a moment of close scrutiny revealed the shallow, barely perceptible rhythm of her breathing.

Severus crouched over her.

"Hermione," he whispered.

Nothing.

"Hermione," he repeated.

Abruptly she inhaled, a painful, shuddering breath. Her eyes moved, but remained unfocused. He wondered what she was seeing.

Suddenly: "So this is death."

Her voice was thin and hoarse. He could hardly understand her. But she smiled. A tremulous, relieved smile of unbearable sweetness. He wanted to shake her and shout at her, but he didn't even dare to touch her. His hands, reaching for her, were hovering midair, shaking –

"Dumbledore was wrong, you know," she rasped, still not looking at him. "It's not an adventure. It's the most beautiful dream I've ever had."

With a sigh, her eyes drifted shut.

"This is not a dream, Hermione," he said. "And you are not dying." His hands curled around her thin arms and pulled her into his embrace. "Please," Severus begged, "open your eyes. Please."

But she did not react. Her eyes closed, she lay limp in his arms. Severus staggered to his feet. Carrying his wife, he stumbled from the cell.

This can't be the end, he thought. Please, don't let it end like this.

oooOooo

Between chapter 248 and 249

Severus brought her home that first night. Apparating to the back of the gardens, he carried her through the bronze light of the September evening and the heavy perfume of the rose garden to the castle.

A mere wisp of a woman now, Hermione felt fragile and feeble like a kitten in his arms. She had buried her face against him and a shudder accompanied her every breath.

The house-elves had prepared their bedroom. The windows were wide open, the breeze from the lake still mellow. The bed was made up with new sheets.

Severus went to Hermione's side of the bed and gently lowered her. When she wouldn't let go of him, he took her hands and lay down next to her. A silent, wandless spell disrobed them.

But before he could conjure up nightshirts, she shook her head.

"No," Hermione whispered. "No. Let me feel you. Please."

He hesitated, uncertain if this was wise, aware as he was of her delicate emotional state.

"Please," she repeated. He acquiesced and drew her against him. Pressed against him, he could feel every rib when she breathed. She was so thin. Scars covered her hands and her wrists. Gently, he pulled her hand to his lips.

"I love you," he said quietly.

"I dreamed of you," Hermione said, her breathing harsh, at last only gasps away from tears. "I knew you were dead, yet I kept dreaming of you. Like this. Naked. Holding me. Kissing me. Making love to me. I lay in that cell, and I knew I had killed you, and when I masturbated, I screamed your name."

She was shaking like a leaf now.

"I am not dead. You did not kill me," he said softly. "I am alive. – I love you."

And then, finally, she started crying.

oooOooo

A/N: A drabble has exactly one hundred words as counted by MS Word.

A drouble has two hundred, a tribble three hundred, a quabble four hundred, a quibble five hundred and small stories with more than five hundred words are usually called ficlet.

The drabble challenge in my forums is still open. Follow the link at the bottom of my profile and request a drabble for a missing scene from "Apprentice"!