3/7/15 update; I don't think there are any original readers of this story left, but I have recently returned to writing. At long last, the eagerly awaited chapter 10!

III

For the first time since her capture, Hermione felt herself relax, her eyes misting from tears of joy. She tightened her hand around Draco's and in a surprising act of strength, leaned forward and pushed her lips against his.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. His arms snaked around Hermione carefully, gently supporting her. Draco softly returned the kiss before helping Hermione lower herself back onto her pillows. His eyes danced as he looked at the young witch lying before him. "That was nice," he whispered softly.

Hermione blushed, "I'm sorry. My emotions seem to all be right on the surface since my capture." Despite feeling very self-conscious, Hermione did not look away.

"You don't need to apologize, Hermione. I care for you a great deal." His eyes clouded, "I'm just sorry it took all of this for us to realize we cared about each other."

Hermione returned Draco's gaze, silently agreeing with him. She reached out a shaky hand, gently squeezing his forearm. "It's ok. Like you said, we need to focus on the now, and right now, we have each other."

A soft knock at the door drew their gaze away from one another. Snape stood at the door, his expression was emotionless. If he recognized that he had interrupted a tender moment, he was not letting it on. "Hermione," he seemed to stumble slightly over her name. "It's time for another pain relieving drought and a mild fever reducer."

Hermione smiled once more at Draco before releasing his arm. "I understand," she told the former professor. "Thank you for using my first name." She was truly grateful he had remembered. It made the entire ordeal seem less clinical somehow.

Snape turned to the young blonde, "Draco, I think it's time you returned to the encampment before you are missed."

Draco nodded grimly. He leaned down and lightly brushed his lips across Hermione's forehead. "I will be back when I can," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Hopefully with some concrete answers to help you." He stood with authority and exchanged a pointed look with Snape before gathering his outer robe and Death Eater mask from the bedside table and exiting the room. Hermione watched Draco with hooded eyes as he quietly left the room, pulling the door shut with a soft thump.

Hermione looked up at Snape, her sad eyes meeting his calm gaze. "I hate that he's in danger," she said. "I just want him back safe."

Snape crossed the room and pulled up a chair next to Hermione's bed. "He has a good head on his shoulders. He is far smarter and quick on his feet than most give him credit for."

The potions master deftly measured out doses from the two appropriate bottles next to Hermione's bed. Hermione gratefully accepted the vials and drank each down in a single gulp, thankful for her strength in this moment. "Thank you, professor," she said, her voice soft, but steady.

"It is time to change your bandages," he informed her, his hands already busy with a pot of salve and new bandages.

Hermione was tired of being in bed and even more so of having others tending to her needs. Even so, Hermione knew her own strength was failing her and she could not change her own dressing alone. "Fine," she said resignedly.

Snape once again used a spell to vanish her sweaty shirt and bandages, but left her bra. With precise movements, he spread the salve onto her wound, which Hermione noted was inflamed but there was no odor or discharge. Snape also used a freshening spell on Hermione's bra before spelling new bandages and a shirt back onto the young witch. "Thanks. It looks like it's still not infected."

Snape nodded and again sat in the chair next to her bed. He used his wand to run a series of diagnostic spells on her. His brow furrowed. "Hermione, your heart remains very weak. Your body is not replenishing your blood as quickly as it should. This entire ordeal has been very traumatic to your body's systems and we still are unable to use healing spells to aid your body. I am going to have to insist that someone remain at your bedside 24/7 until we can stabilize your vital signs."

"I understand," Hermione told him, resigned. She was so tired, she didn't much care at this point what needed to happen, she just wanted to spend her time resting.

Snape ran a washcloth under cool water at the sink the corner of the room and returned to Hermione. He folded it with a practiced hand and laid it on her brow. Hermione closed her eyes and relished the cool relief the washcloth gave her from the hot pounding in her temples. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Do you think you could sleep right now, Hermione?" Snape's use of her name felt more natural this time.

Hermione opened her eyes and watched Snape. "Are you the one who is going to stay right now?" she asked. She did not want to admit it, but she felt much calmer when Draco or Snape was present. Anyone else increased her anxiety. She could be frank with both men, something that scared her with anyone else.

"Yes, Hermione," Snape told her. He motioned to the small desk crammed into the corner of the room. It was littered with several books and parchment. "I've been researching curses and possible cures. I will continue my work now." He took a small vial out of his pocket and pressed it to Hermione's cracked lips. "Drink this; it's an enhanced blood replenishing potion."

Hermione drank down the chalky liquid and wrinkled her nose. Snape did not look impressed. "Sleep now, Hermione. I'm not going anywhere."

The young woman closed her eyes and let the cooling feeling from the washcloth wash over her, calming her tense muscles. She could tell Snape had settled at the desk, the scratching of his quill a comforting noise. Hermione slowly drifted to sleep, feeling safe and oddly comforted by her professor's presence.

III

It was hours later that Hermione woke. Although she was sore, she felt the most rested she had since her rescue. She glanced at the clock, quarter to two. A quick look towards the window showed daylight peaking from the edges of the opaque curtains, revealing it was almost two in the afternoon and not the middle of the night. Hermione saw her professor was still at the desk, his head bent over a thick text and his hand poised over a sturdy sheet of parchment. Her slight movements alerted him to her being awake and he quickly put down his quill and capped his ink.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, crossing the room in two strides and pulling up the familiar chair next to her bed.

"Much better," she responded truthfully. "I'm even a little hungry."

"Mira," Snape called, glancing at the same sturdy clock Hermione had when she woke. A squatty elf popped into the room. She had a different air than most house elves, holding herself erect and she was fully clothed in a sensible skirt and blouse. "Can we please have a lunch tray? Stew, pumpkin juice, and a pitcher of water should do." The elf nodded once and disappeared.

Hermione arched her brow, mirroring Snape's usual look. "She is mine," was the only explanation Snape would give.

Snape ran his wand the length of Hermione's body and placed a large hand on Hermione's brow, although Hermione was sure that her temperature was reported in the diagnostic spell Snape was running. "Your temperature is down slightly," he told her. "And your blood pressure has come up some."

Mira popped back into the room holding a large tray with all of Snape's requested items. She placed it on the table beside Hermione's bed. "Thank you," Snape and Hermione voiced at the same time. Mira's eyes crinkled almost in laughter before she nodded once and disappeared.

"You thanked an elf," Hermione told Snape. It wasn't a question.

"So did you," he retorted. "You should eat."

Hermione was able to lift herself slightly from her prone position, although Snape had to push pillows behind her back as her strength still did not allow her to completely adjust herself. Hermione's spirits rose some as she was able to feed herself stew while Snape sat next to her carefully observing her movements.

Hermione managed half her stew before admitting defeat and handed the bowl to Snape. He looked at the still very full bowl, but did not comment as he placed it back on the tray. "I've had a letter from Draco," he said, his voice not revealing any emotion.

"Is he ok? Is he coming back soon?" Hermione asked quickly, not caring how vulnerable she was being with Snape.

Snape rubbed his forehead with his hand, his eyes impassive. "He's fine. He is working on brewing some potions for the Dark Lord that require quite a high level of skill and precise care that the Dark Lord usually has only entrusted to me. It shows he is doing his job very well. He also had some information to share regarding your condition."

Hermione's mind was processing Snape's information very quickly. If Draco really was doing well in Voldemort's camp, the likelihood of him coming back to the Order soon was low. He needed to be as close to Voldemort as he could in Snape's absence. Hermione's heart clenched at the thought of knowing his safety could not be guaranteed in this war. Her mind caught up with the rest of Snape's statement. "My condition? What kind of news?" she was eager to be cured and return to being an asset to the fight instead of a liability.

Snape eyed Hermione carefully. "I trust you will appreciate only complete honesty from me, Hermione. Is this correct?"

Hermione knew it meant the news was serious; she also was appreciative of the one person who did not try and minimize her desire to know everything she could about her condition. "Yes, professor. I want to know everything, no matter how bad it is."

Snape nodded and cleared his throat. "Draco reports that Voldemort used a potion on you that I created. This is the first time it has ever been used. It is a unique brew that leans on medical science as much as potions research." Snape's voice was devoid of emotion. His voice was clinical and detached. "The acromantula venom binds with the fluxweed and neem oil to create a toxin that slowly kills the person who drinks it. The venom prevents any spells from truly having an effect. We can administer potions to mask the symptoms, but the healing must come from your own body. However, the neem oil, usually used as a simple antifungal, reacts with the fluxweed and constantly attacks your body's ability to produce new cells, leaving your blood counts dangerously low and your body unable to heal itself."

Hermione's mind was processing the information rapidly. Despite the dire consequences the potion was having for it was fascinating to explore a new potion. The young woman was glad to have something concrete to focus on. "I am going to ask the obvious, there are no antidotes?"

Snape shook his head. "Not yet," he intoned. "I've been researching and working every day though. I will find an answer, Hermione." Snape's voice was even, his eyes impassive, but Hermione could tell by the firm line in his jaw that Snape was feeling a great deal of stress.

"Professor, thank you for being honest with me," she told him in earnest. "It gives me something to focus on. Would you mind if I look at your notes sometime?" Hermione truly was fascinated in potion brewing and had built quite the collection of old potions tomes in her personal library.

Snape's eyes flicked towards the desk and back to Hermione. "You need your rest, Hermione," he said, his voice firm. "The blood replenishing potion I gave you before will mask your symptoms, but your heart is still very weak. We are lucky that we share the same blood type as I am able to tweak the potion by adding my own blood to it."

Hermione knew enough through her research to know that it was not only blood type that had to match for a witch or wizard to give their blood to another. "You mean, my magical signature has the same markings as yours in addition to us sharing the same blood type? Professor, isn't that incredibly rare?" Hermione could remember reading only three references in her time at Hogwarts that cited this phenomenon. In fact, it was why the discovery of the blood replenishing potion in the 1970s had been such a ground breaking achievement for the wizarding community. Their muggle counterparts had been successfully transfusing blood for over half a century, while the wizarding community had been unable to benefit from the medical advancement due to the extremely distinct magical signature of each witch and wizard interfering with a successful transfusion.

Despite the grave topic of discussion, Snape's eyes betrayed some amusement. "You are quite well read, Hermione," he admitted. "Indeed, it is extraordinarily rare. We should be grateful, though, as it is what is keeping you feeling so well when your body is in such a weakened state."

Hermione nodded. She could feel the darkness of exhaustion setting in and was frustrated by her own physical limitations. Determined, she pressed on, "Professor, I would still like to look at your research. I know I am not well, but when I am up, it would be a welcome distraction." She kept her eyes level with his own and refused to look away, despite the professor's penetrating glare.

"Very well, Hermione," he relented. "But I determine when and how long you are able to help each day."

"I understand," she replied, grateful for this small victory. Despite her exhaustion and the grave news, Hermione's spirits were lifted knowing they had a concrete challenge at hand and the best potions mind of the century was working on it. "Thank you, sir," she said, stifling a yawn.

Snape nodded curtly. "Bedtime, Hermione," he said, producing a small vial like the one from before. "Drink this first," he handed her the vial, but her shaky hands could not manage. He carefully wrapped his hand around hers and helped her tilt the vial to her lips. She quickly choked down the now familiar enhanced blood replenishing potion and sank back into her pillows. Snape skillfully removed the added pillows from behind her head and helped her into a supine position.

Hermione drew her hand across her hot brow, "Thank you, professor." Her body screamed at her to sleep so she let her eyes close, enjoying the cool pillow on her neck. She heard Snape walking across the room and the sound of running water. Moments later, she felt the comforting chill of a damp washcloth on her forehead. She murmured a grunt of appreciation and allowed the welcome world of darkness to consume her, drifting into a restful sleep.

Snape withdrew from the bed and resumed his post at the cramped desk; with fresh resolve he opened the heaviest tome in hopes of finding new answers. His stomach was knotted with worry that the young woman before him would die before he could come up with the correct solution.

III

Short chapter, but it's an update. After 7 years, I'm still here and I'm still writing. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy- the plot will pick up as we go forward, but not without some major blows for our favorite characters. A lot of the Order members and Ron/Harry have been purposefully absent in these chapters. Hermione is dealing with a great deal of stress and her world is crumbling, but there is still a war going on- a very real war where most of the Order is currently being drawn to battle and defending, etc. A small group knows about Hermione's condition and Snape is keeping visitors at bay. I will go into this in more detail- but just so no one is wondering what's happened to all of Hermione's friends.