Flotsam
Chapter Four
"Severus! Severus!"
Blood sprayed everywhere as Severus Snape removed his hand from his mouth to gesture toward his house's front door. "Kitchen—koff—cupboard—koff—potion—!" he choked, waving his blood-spattered hand at the front door. Without a word, Danny dashed inside as Snape doubled over in another fit of coughs. Hermione felt panic and terror welling up in her, but didn't know what to do with herself—her magic and her legs wouldn't work, so she was of absolutely no use to him now. He couldn't die now—he couldn't. Worst-case scenarios began racing through her mind: Snape could have a degenerative disease, he could have some sort of fatal curse eating him from the inside out, she could have affected his health with the disastrous combination of materials she'd been working with when the portkey acted up…
All further thought was forestalled when Danny burst from the front door, nearly skidding off the porch steps before scrambling toward Snape and thrusting a bottle of deep crimson potion toward him. He snatched it and managed to stop coughing long enough to jam the bottle to his lips and drink deeply. Hermione all but stopped breathing as he gulped the red liquid down and inhaled sharply when Snape finished off the bottle's contents and let out exhaled in relief.
"I'm—I'm sorry you had to see that," said Snape quietly, looking away as he wiped his blood-smeared face on a handkerchief.
Sorry? He was sorry that he was sick and coughing up blood?
"What's this about? What is—are you sick?" Hermione demanded, clenching her fists in her lap to keep them from trembling.
"Danny, leave," said Snape, looking wearily up at him. Without so much as a look of protest, Danny nodded and got to his feet before trotting off out of sight, leaving Hermione to sit there in confusion.
"What's this about, Profe—Severus," Hermione said, more gently this time.
He pulled himself back into the chair and rested his elbows on the armrests, his entire body seeming to sag down into the frame of the chair.
"Nagini's venom."
Hermione couldn't help but stare at him in shock. Surely someone like the Half-Blood Prince could have brewed the antidote for Nagini's venom; even the St. Mungo's healers had managed to procure some when Arthur Weasley was attacked in front of the Department of Mysteries. So what was different this time? Why couldn't he cure himself with a potion when others had cured Arthur Weasley so easily?
"There's an antidote," Hermione said slowly, once she'd organized her thoughts. She expected him to give some sort of sarcastic comment about how she had offended him by suggesting he didn't know of it, but Snape merely nodded and didn't look at her.
"Indeed."
"But…?"
"But the concentration of venom she injected into me was much too high for the antidote to completely eradicate."
"Make a stronger one."
As though it was the easiest thing in the world.
"I can't. Nagini's was not normal snake venom."
"I don't think Nagini was a normal snake by any stretch of imagination," said Hermione, frowning. It seemed to draw a small smile out of him, which was slightly reassuring.
"I haven't yet created a potion to clear it from my internal organs," he said. He gave a small, resigned laugh that Hermione didn't like. "All I can do is halt its progress when it gets too far and repair the damage that it does. Though I can't say I've been trying too hard to cure it."
That wasn't a satisfying answer at all and only served to worry her even more. "But Mr. Weasley—" she started, but was immediately interrupted.
"I'm sure you know that venomous snakes can control the amount of venom they inject when they bite."
The memory of Harry getting bitten by Nagini back in Godric's Hollow suddenly came to mind—she had been able to heal him using only Essence of Dittany then, and she'd never thought much more about it because she'd been so relieved that he was still alive.
"Arthur Weasley was meant to be a warning. But when Nagini bit me…I was meant to be dead," Snape continued quietly. "It was hours before Minerva came for me, which must have given the venom enough time to settle into my organs. I had antidote on hand, but I did not anticipate for it to integrate itself the way it did. It's almost like a virus."
To Hermione's horror, he started laughing as though it was all a non-issue, like he had a mild case of dragon pox—for some reason, it made her angry to see that he was just brushing his health off like that, especially after he had gone so far as to survive a neck wound given by a venomous snake. He had dared to defy death and was somehow content with oh-dear-I'm-dying-eh-who-cares? The frown on her face became more pronounced as she clenched her fists tighter, her fingernails digging into her palms.
"Why are you laughing? It's your health!"
"It's manageable. I shouldn't even be alive, so I'll take what I can get," he said, unperturbed. At this point, her anger was becoming inversely proportional to how much he cared about the situation—the more indifference that he showed, the angrier she became.
"But—!"
"Are you feeling well enough to go surfing?"
"Don't deflect—wait, what?"
He gave her a self-satisfied smile after successfully derailing the conversation—indeed, it came close to being a train wreck— and looked to be highly enjoying the sight of her bewildered face. "I asked if you were feeling well enough to go surfing," he said. "You can sit on the board."
"You're deflecting!"
"Indeed." They stared at each other for a brief moment, Hermione silently bristling at his audacity, before he got to his feet and said flatly, "Are you coming or not?"
She wanted to keep arguing, to wrestle the truth out of him, but the look on his face made it clear he would either continue deflecting the conversation or simply go surfing without her. Deflated, Hermione gestured vaguely down at her legs. "Fine, but how do you expect me to swim like this?"
"I don't."
She hardly knew what was happening when he took her hand and hoisted her up, somehow twisting himself underneath her arms to carry her piggy-back as she gave a squeak of dismay. She was never a fan of piggy-back rides—the feeling of being carried was uncomfortable and a bit humiliating—but she clung to him nonetheless for fear of sliding off.
"You bastard, Severus Snape," Hermione muttered, though she couldn't keep the small smile off her face. "Talk about changing the topic."
"Insufferable know-it-all," he said, though the all-too-familiar words held no malice. The way he said it—it sounded almost like a fond nickname. "Just be quiet and hold on."
His physical strength was rather impressive and certainly not what she would have expected from him, as he not only carried her around the house to get the worn longboard hidden among some shrubbery, but also carried the board without it dragging in the sand. She could feel his chest heaving as he walked across the beach and loosened her grip in an attempt to let go, but he shook his head and hoisted her up higher on his back. If it was straining him at all to carry her and the board across the loose sand, his slightly labored breathing was the only indication.
"Wait, my clothes! Your shirt!" Hermione cried as Snape began wading into the shallows, her long skirt dipping into the water. He turned his head slightly, and she felt him laugh though no sound came from his mouth.
"It's only water."
Hermione unconsciously held her breath as they waded deeper and deeper into the shallows—the water wasn't cold, but it was just so weird that he was doing this—until it got to the point that Snape could no longer walk and instead began swimming, using the longboard for support. She instinctively tightened her grip when she felt his feet leave the sand and couldn't help but stiffen her body as he slowly kicked farther from the shore.
"You're choking me."
Immediately, she loosened her death grip around his neck. "Sorry," she said in embarrassment. He turned his head again, and once more she felt his chest move in a silent laugh.
"Just trust me."
By the time he finally stopped pushing forward, the shore seemed miles away, the beachside house and trees sitting against the deep blue sky like a charming little diorama. He eased her from his back and draped one of her arms over the longboard, and immediately she clung to the board as though her life depended on it. But after a moment, she realized that even with her currently unreliable legs, it was quite easy to float in the warm ocean water, and she let a delighted noise escape her mouth before she could stop herself. It seemed, however, that Snape hadn't noticed—he was floating at the other end, his chin resting on the longboard and his eyes peacefully closed. It certainly was peaceful enough to sleep, with the ocean gently rocking them back and forth in the water.
Hermione took the opportunity to look around and, to her dismay, quickly noticed something.
"Severus, there aren't any waves. It's flat."
He didn't even open his eyes. "Indeed," was all he was bothered to say.
"Didn't you take me out here to surf? You can't surf if there aren't any waves."
"I suppose not," he said sleepily. "Take this opportunity to stop thinking."
"Stop thinking?"
"Don't think. Don't think about your health, don't think about my health, just…don't think. It's a bit like Occlumency."
That was an interesting thought. She forced herself to relax and simply flow with the calm undulations of the water, pushing the thoughts from her mind as best she could. When she focused on how the water felt against her skin and how her body floated alongside the longboard, it was no time at all before she was resting her chin on the board as well, her mind blissfully blank. It was as though all her worries were being washed away by the water. Perhaps this was how Snape had washed away the years and years of pain and vitriol, drifting aimlessly in the ocean like a piece of driftwood.
Perhaps this was his way of showing her.
"Hermione."
Her body jerked as she was pulled out of her daze, and she groaned at how bright the sun seemed to be. She peered at Snape curiously once her eyes adjusted and found that he had moved to the other side of the board so that they were facing each other.
"Why don't you tell Potter and Weasley to come visit? If I know them, they're probably going insane that they have no idea where you are," he asked casually, shaking water from his face. Hermione eyed him suspiciously.
"What brought this on? Inviting them here means that they could run into you," she said slowly, frowning. It was true that Harry and Ron had been going crazy not knowing where she was and who she was with—she had sent them each a couple of letters that vaguely expressed her safety with a nameless guardian and they had both replied with such a vehement desire to "rescue" her that it was as though she'd been kidnapped by Lord Voldemort himself.
"As much as I enjoy the idea of them squirming, they should probably know that you are safe and sound. And the only way they'll be convinced of that is to see you."
Though she wanted nothing more than to see her best friends, it felt wrong to allow Snape to put himself out there like that for her. He'd lived in this beautiful solitude for so long, and if the Ministry visit wasn't enough to jeopardize it, allowing Harry and Ron to come could ruin everything. He'd been so gracious to her and had done so much—she couldn't bear it if she was the reason he lost the peaceful life that he so deserved. If she really tried, she could think of loads of reasons that Snape would want Harry and Ron to come to his island. If she really considered every possibility in the realm of imagination, then Snape could very well be out for revenge of some sort and all this business about being a reformed person could all be an elaborate ruse to lure the whole Golden Trio to a remote location.
But when she looked at the man floating idly in the water—when she thought about everything he did for them, when she looked at his eyes—there was no way that could be the case.
"No…I don't think that's a good idea. It's not fair to you."
He stared at her with an odd, unreadable expression on his face—she couldn't tell if he was going to laugh or cry or what.
"To speak of fairness for someone like me," he finally said, "is absurd."
He clenched his left fist and his eyes quickly flitted down toward his forearm before he looked away, absently gazing off into the endless expanse of water around them. Hermione had looked at his arm before, of course, trying to see if the Dark Mark was still there—it was completely gone, erased upon the defeat of its creator. It would be ridiculous to think that he could simply forget how it burned—how it called him—how he had chosen to take it—how he'd associated himself with those people—
But even after all that, if it wasn't for him, everything—everything—would have been lost. And so to speak of fairness for a man like him…was perfectly fair.
So, she did the only logical thing that came to mind at the moment and splashed water in his face.
"What was that for?" Snape sputtered, slightly pulling away from the board and shaking the water from his eyes.
"You're talking like a dunderhead, Mr. Snape. Ten points from Slytherin."
The look of utter shock on his face was priceless.
It took him a few moments to regain control of his face, and when he did, he started laughing a low, quiet chuckle. She watched in amusement as he slowly escalated into full-on laughter and briefly sank under water as he lost control, sputtering and flailing a bit before he caught hold of the board and steadied himself. "Impressive," he said, resting his chin on the board and breathing heavily, peering at her through a curtain of wet hair. "It's a pity that I'm your only audience for such a promising new stand-up career."
Hermione snorted into the water, trying and failing to stifle a smile. She wondered if that was what all this was about; perhaps Snape felt bad that he was the only company she had while she waited for her magic and health to return.
Health, huh…?
Dammit, he's trying to distract me.
Suddenly, it was clear. He was trying to distract her from the very troubling fact that he'd been coughing blood up all over the porch while Nagini's virus-venom was destroying his guts. She'd nearly forgotten, what with all the lovely drifting in the water and all the effort he was putting in to get Harry and Ron to come visit.
"Why don't we make a deal, Severus?" said Hermione as a thought came to mind. "If you give me your notes on Nagini's antivenom—I know you have some—then I'll invite Harry and Ron over so I can tell them all the jokes I learned from you."
If he wasn't going to bother curing himself, she was sure as hell going to try.
"You can't brew potions in your condition," he said, looking at her dubiously. "My notes wouldn't do you any good in that regard."
"I can prepare a procedure for when I can brew potions, thank you."
He regarded her for a moment and for a moment she thought he was going to shoot down her lovely plan, until he nodded once.
"Very well. It's a deal."
And he sealed the deal by sloshing water all over her face.
Hermione had meant to beleaguer Snape into giving her his antidote notes immediately upon returning to the shore, but after he had dragged the both of them out of the water, clothes sopping wet, he had deposited her on the warm sand and conveniently left her there to dry off while he put the longboard away. By the time she realized he wasn't going to come back for her, she was much too tired to do anything about it and drifted off to sleep in the sand still feeling like the ocean was rocking her to and fro. Her body was drained after their little trip into the ocean; after they had finally reached their agreement, she'd tried to do a bit of swimming and found that her legs responded quite nicely in water—better than they did on land, in any case. So she had spent the last half hour or so swimming in circles around the surfboard, relishing the exercise she was getting after sitting around for a week.
"…I've already said it's not a problem. You're not my keeper!"
"Come on, it's getting worse…What are you going to tell her?"
"It's none of your concern!"
"Oh, get over yourself, tough guy."
The sounds of a nearby argument slowly began pulling Hermione back into wakefulness. It took her a few moments before she was conscious enough to realize that it was Danny's voice she was hearing, and that he seemed quite troubled over something getting worse—Snape's health, perhaps?
"Surely you didn't come back here just to pester me about my health!"
"No. I caught those Ministry guys from this morning sneaking around. I wanted to let you know."
At that, Hermione's eyes snapped open. The sun, high overhead, was overpowering and she blindly squirmed in the sand until her eyes adjusted to the light. Immediately she rolled over and pushed herself upright and found that both Snape and Danny were silently staring at her from the porch, almost like a pair of children caught red-handed with the ball that broke the window. "What's this about the Ministry people?" she said sharply, struggling to pull herself to her feet.
"Found those two poking around down that way," Danny said, jabbing his thumb north along the beach. "I almost missed them, but it was a good thing that moron Richard wore a suit. Saw him as soon as he was out in the open."
"What did they want?" asked Hermione, slowly making her way toward the porch steps.
"I hid and listened to them for a bit," Danny said, holding up what Hermione recognized as a variant of Extendable Ears. "Richard is an idiot, but that Asian lady's no joke. I don't think she's your run-of-the-mill healer...She was talking about how she had orders from some Matthews guy to make sure you weren't secretly collaborating with Americans or whatever."
"I see…" Hermione murmured, frowning. Marcus Matthews was one of the higher-ups at the Department, and though she wasn't too familiar with what his work was, she knew that he was often involved in matters of secrecy and security. And considering the nature of her extraordinary departure from the Department, it was no surprise that Matthews would jump to such conclusions.
"Anywho, I'd keep an eye out for more Ministry lackeys," said Danny, stuffing the Extendable Ears into his pocket. "I watched them leave, but I dunno if they'll be back and I gotta get back to Honolulu and sign for a shipment of dragon livers."
"Understood. Thank you," said Snape, nodding to him as he hopped off the porch. He cheerily helped Hermione up the steps before trotting off onto the beach to increase the distance between them, Disapparating with a faint POP. The first day they met, they discovered that her body reacted violently to Apparition and Disapparition in close proximity, as she'd nearly collapsed and blacked out upon his departure that day.
"I told you it was a bad idea that I stay here…" Hermione said miserably, doubling over and brushing sand from clothes and hair.
When Snape did not say anything, she looked up and found him looking at her in slight disappointment. "Giving up so easily, Hermione?" he said lightly. "Clearly, the lack of magic is affecting your reasoning abilities."
"What do you mean?"
"Just because I removed the wards on the house does not mean I didn't put any up in the surrounding area. Don't worry; they won't see me," said Snape. "The shame of allowing two Ministry fools to find me would be too much. Minerva would never let me hear the end of it."
"I see," said Hermione, feeling slightly foolish.
"At any rate, I have a potion I must attend to. I'll be finished shortly," he said, and without waiting for her to respond, swept inside the house—if he had been wearing his attire from ten years ago, Hermione was sure his robes would be billowing in his wake. She could almost see a ghost of them if she really squinted.
"Do you mind if I see your antidote notes?" she asked brightly as he swept by.
Hermione stood there blankly for a moment as he passed with only a smirk for an answer, before she hobbled into the house after him, gripping the door frame for support as watched him disappear into the hallway.
"Your notes! Please? Hello?"
A/N: Not so happy with this chapter. It's a bit short, but if I didn't cut it off here, it'd probably double in size before the next break point. Ahaha.
Again, a big thank you to all the reviewers. It means a lot to me. : )
One last thing-I've been spending so much time writing this that Snape started infiltrating my dreams. Look at what the man is reducing me to! (remove the spaces) http: / / murirark. deviantart. com/ art/ Dreamscape-My-Pal-Snape-197735259
