Standard Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own Harry Potter, aside from awesome merchandise. I am merely playing with them, and, frankly, this damn story's been in my head too long. Since I don't own Harry Potter, if you think I'm making MONEY from this, well, enough said about the lack of intelligence. I'll just assume you're having some sort of delusion.
Exception: IF YOU RECOGNIZE ANY OF THE FOLLOWING TEXT, IT'S FROM THE DEATHLY HALLOWS HARDCOVER SITTING ON THE SHELF, AND AT THE END OF THE LINE COPIED FROM SAID BOOK WILL BE MARKED WITH AN ASTERISK. (* ← that. That is an asterisk.)
Author's Note: Thank you VERY much to all of you who have reviewed! Makes me rather happy, knowing people like what I am writing makes it easier to write more. :)
CHAPTER 8
Hermione was shaking, and she wasn't sure anymore if it was Cruciatus tremors or fear from Voldemort's sibilant message to Harry, or shock and worry for Professor Snape. It was probably from all three, and she tried to keep herself tense to eliminate the first.
She canceled her silencing charm and stared at the little vial of memories Harry was holding. She had to get them moving, get them out of the Shack, get Harry to a Pensieve...She felt cold and numb right now, she had to get them going, lift the stasis before it drained her...
"Don't listen to him," said Ron.*
"It'll be alright," Hermione said wildly.* Even her lips felt numb. That voice, strangely high and frightened, didn't sound like her. "Let's – let's get back back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest we'll need to think of a new plan - "*
Harry, seeming a little dazed, gathered the folds of his cloak and she wrenched the door to the tunnel open.
"Come on, then," Hermione said, and Ron went through, then Harry, and she Confunded them both and shut the door. It wouldn't last long, but hopefully it would buy her enough time to help Professor Snape, and then join them before they noticed she hadn't been right behind them.
She fell to her knees beside him, pulling her potions out of her beaded bag, and checked him pockets. "You had to have taken something, Professor...but what did you take..."
Her search yielded an empty vial – scentless, but the edge was damp, he must have drank it, probably an antivenin? she was guessing now – and a tiny tiny vial of Felix Felicis.
Why didn't you take that? she wondered as she pried the wax off the stopper. About to tilt his head and pour the Felix down his throat, she was struck with a thought. She paused and licked the cork. Just enough for a few minutes, please I don't want to end up accidentally killing him...
A strange, peaceful feeling, it was, that feeling of absolute rightness that this was the path that washed over Hermione and she set the Felix down to reach into her bag. Well, she didn't remember packing a vial of Phoenix Tears, let alone ever having seen it before, but there it was and there was the Muggle first aid kit, with all the sterile gauze...
She soaked the gauze with the tears, poured the Felix down his throat and dittany on the ragged wounds of his neck, then wrapped them in gauze. She dissolved a bezoar in the canteen and made him drink it, followed by the last of her Blood-Replenishing potion, wishing she had more of it.
Water next, and she wiped his face clean – he looks so peaceful - and made a rather illegal Portkey to Malfoy Manor, folding his hands around it. It would send him off there if she didn't make it back before it went off. Worst case, they lost and the Malfoys would take care of him, never realising he hadn't been on their side. Best case, she'd retrieve him, get him to St Mungo's.
Hermione sat a moment after lifting the stasis, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the thready beat of his pulse under her fingers. On impulse, she brushed his lank hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead like her mum did whenever she or Dad were sick.
"I'll come back, Professor." She rose and left the room feeling oddly calm, and as she closed the door to the tunnel behind her, it was by the last bit of luck that her Confundus ended and they ran for the castle and the Pensieve.
Short Chapter? Yes. Is he still laying on the bloody floor of the shack, alone? Yes. But the story is far from over.
