A/N: "It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated." - Albus Dumbledore - My thoughts are with all those effected by the recent terrorist attacks.

Chapter Ten

Whatever explanation Hermione had been expecting for the odd green potions, this wasn't it. It had crossed her mind that they might be contraband, and for a little while she had harboured the rather more optimistic hope that they were something innovative he was working on, that perhaps he'd gotten back some of his past passion for potions.

Instead, the truth made her feel cold and light-headed. She gaped at his admission, not sure how to articulate herself in response, and when she finally did speak her voice was low and unsure. 'Are… are you dying?'

He smiled and not for the first time his nonchalance in the face of adversity frustrated her, 'we're all dying,' he replied with a small shrug.

She shook her head slowly and placed the phials back in the drawer before she dropped them. She didn't trust her appendages; her arms and legs felt weak and, worried they might betray her and she'd fall, she shuffled forward to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. 'You know what I mean. Are you dying?' she repeated more emphatically.

With his left hand he traced the scars along his neck and collar, his long fingers rising and falling as they ran over the ridges and valleys of his damaged skin. He had the good grace to adopt a more sombre expression before he continued. 'I think it is possible that if I didn't take them when I need them then… I might die, yes.'

'Oh my God, Severus,' she muttered disbelievingly, leaning back against the pillows next to him as she tried to make sense of what this all meant. 'I don't know what to say.'

'There's isn't anything to say.'

She reached out and pulled the hand that was still stroking his scars away from his neck before he made them sore, but once she'd taken it she felt like she didn't really know what to do and sat with it limply in her lap. 'Perhaps… just help me to understand a little better.'

He sighed and exhaled in reluctant acquiescence, then squeezed her hand in a gentle, reassuring way. 'For a long while after I was bitten,' he began, sounding very much as though he was telling her this against his better judgement, 'I was fine. The anti-venom I'd been taking in anticipation of the attack must have built up a better tolerance than I'd thought it would. The bleeding was a bigger concern but when I eventually managed to stem that I… well, I thought by some miracle I was alright.'

'Then what happened?'

'I started with the odd twinge in my neck, then I'd wake up in the night and my blood would feel like fire coursing through my veins, then I'd black out and wake up a while later with only a hazy recollection of what had happened.'

'Oh, Severus…' she murmured, tightening her grip on his hand now. She hated to think of him alone and suffering.

'Mmm… then, about a year later, I was in Italy working at vineyard, picking grapes, and I fell ill, passed out one day. I hadn't been right for a while now I look back, but at the time I didn't think much of it. I woke up in a Muggle hospital and you can imagine how baffled they were. They determined I had been poisoned. I suppose they tested my blood or something, and they knew it was from a snake bite, so they'd given me anti-venom, but they couldn't work out how I'd survived. I'd guess it was because of the tolerance I'd built up though. It was weaker than before but still fighting the effects of Nagini's bite. Anyway, I discharged myself and fled through Austria, just in case the story of the man surviving a strange snake attack made the news and word got out. I knew something like that would cause suspicion if it reached wizarding England and I couldn't take that chance, not when I'd come so far.'

'Once I reached Vienna I took stock of things. I knew the situation was quite serious by then, that I still wasn't right and needed to act quickly, so I set about developing the closest thing to an anti-venom as I could. It took a while, many weeks, and for the first time then, I thought I would die. Not even in the immediate aftermath of Nagini's attack did I honestly think I would die, maybe that was the effects of the adrenaline, I don't know, but in Vienna I was in such excruciating pain towards the end I would have happily died!'

'Severus!' she exclaimed, hating to hear him talk like that, but her voice was quiet.

'I would, I can't describe it. I just wanted to be put out of my misery, and then… well, after Merlin knows how many failed attempts, the potion was ready, and it wasn't perfect, but it worked and it's kept me alive for the last four or so years. When I start to feel the burning in my veins I know it's time to take another potion. Some days I need more than others, that's why I keep such a large stock, to be sure I don't run out.'

'Well,' she said, wanting to lighten the mood before she succumbed to tears, though not entirely sure it was appropriate, 'you do have an excellent propensity for survival… for which I am immensely grateful!'

'Yeah, like a cockroach,' he mumbled glumly, staring at his fingers which were still entwined with Hermione's.

'Honestly Severus, enough of that!' she reprimanded. Yesterday she would have given anything for him to open up to her like this, but now he had, it was an awful lot to take in, especially with emotions still running so high following last night's developments in their relationship. Hermione had envisioned a morning spent in bed, wrapped in one another's arms, not to discover that the man she greatly suspected she was growing to love, was potentially dying. But not only that, Severus had also divulged an awful lot about his state of mind, whether intentionally, or not, and what she'd learned about that was worrying in and of itself.

Hermione felt selfish and foolish for being so self-indulged over the past weeks that she had been oblivious to all this. Perhaps she had not thought Severus Snape capable of such emotions, and so had dismissed the signs of his suffering. She knew differently now.

'I wish you'd never found those bottles and I wish I hadn't had to tell you any of this…' he groaned and withdrew his hand from hers, swinging his legs out of the bed so he didn't have to face her.

'You'd have had to tell me eventually.'

He let his head hang, curtains of dark hair falling in front of his face. After a long moment of tense silence he spoke again. 'Is… is this going to change anything, you know, between us?'

'Of course not,' she assured him, and it was true, though her mind still raced.

'Promise?' he said, sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable.

'Promise.'

He nodded slowly and then twisted slightly so she could see his profile. 'Then there's one last thing…' he trailed off, breathing heavily, but, now almost frantic, she placed a hand on his shoulder to urge him on, 'I… err… recently, maybe for the last six months or so, I've been needing to take the potions more regularly. The pain has been more intense and more frequent,' he said. He paused momentarily but then spoke again before Hermione had chance to interrupt, 'I mean, I'm fine, really, I am, but… well, I just thought you ought to know…' and with that he turned from her once more and let his head fall into his hands.

Hermione manoeuvred herself onto her knees and situated herself behind Severus, wrapping her arms slowly around his shoulders. She hoped that this would be a comfort to him to some extent, but more than anything she just wanted to be close to him.

'We'll figure something out,' she whispered soothingly, her mouth pressed against his neck. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest and cherished it.

~oOo~

They had spent the rest of the day carefully avoiding discussing the subject any further, which gave Hermione the opportunity to absorb and process it. Despite herself she found that frequently she cast concerned glances in Severus' direction, based on some ridiculous logic that, now she had knowledge of his illness, he might drop dead at any moment, never mind the fact that he had been suffering for months, nay years, while she had been blissfully unaware.

Severus' services had not been required at the perfumers and so they had spent the morning moseying through Bolstrad's secondhand bookshops and lunching in their now favourite café, before taking a walk through the snow blanketed hills. Severus had held her hand throughout, something he hadn't really done before, and as a result Hermione had felt brave enough to broach the subject of their relationship status.

'Severus..?' she began as they trudged through three feet high snow.

'Yes, you may ask me something,' he interrupted with a small smirk.

'I was just wondering what, I mean… whether we'd decided what this… us, I mean, is yet?'

'Hmm…' he pondered, 'well… I can tell you what it is to me, but perhaps that will be different to what it is for you.'

'Are you willing to risk it and tell me what it is to you?'

He stopped walking and turned to face her, maintaining his grip on her hand. He inhaled deeply as he prepared to make his declaration. 'If I'm honest, I could probably go my whole life without verbalising this, but I've made that mistake before…' he paused, a sad look haunting his eyes, and she suspected he was thinking of Lily, 'but I promised myself, when I got my second chance, that I wasn't going to make the same mistake again. And especially after this morning I think I need to say it out loud. I want you to know, for sure, and I don't want to repeat my mistakes.'

'Yeah,' she whispered, the anticipation almost painful.

'I… I rather think I've fallen in love you,' he then said, concluding by closing his mouth tight shut and looking down at her with an anxious, anticipatory expression, as though he thought she might laugh at him, or worse, turn and leave.

Instead she nodded slowly as she made sense of this, and then a smile crept across her lips. 'I was hoping you would say that,' she said, 'and I want you to know… I love you too.'

She saw his whole body relax in relief and he leaned down to draw her into a firm kiss, which she reciprocated gladly. Kissing him had become a regular occurrence, but it was no less luxurious for it. He had told her last night, before they had slept together, about his fears of disappointing her in many varied ways, and she had assured him that she did not think that was possible. Now, as their tongues curled around one another, she could taste the coffee he'd drunk over lunch and his stubble scratched her chin, but in that moment she felt as though, so long as they were together, they could achieve anything.

'Today has been… emotionally turbulent,' he said, when he finally pulled away.

'I dare say you haven't shown so much emotion in years!' she joked.

'In a lifetime,' he replied, looking a little pleased with himself and placing another kiss on her forehead as he tugged her into his arms.

And, as he held her, she knew now what she must do: she was going to find a cure for his ailment. She would research, she would experiment, she would do whatever it took.

~oOo~

The moment he left for work the next day, Hermione made her way to the library. It was small, poorly stocked, and everything, obviously, was in Romanian, but with the help of the librarian she found their scant selection of potions books. Vindecător meant healing, the librarian said, and so she set about hunting through each book to find those with a section thus titled.

There were three, in the end, which looked sufficiently advanced to be helpful. Thick, dusty tomes, filled with intricate diagrams and complex instruction. At least they might be helpful once she'd worked out how to translate them. She was a little concerned she might have to learn Romanian in its entirety before she would be able to make proper sense of them, and then an idea struck her.

Hermione had continued to attend meetings with The Watch regularly since that first time, and under her guidance they had begun to develop a more durable strategy for tackling The Witch Hunters, for which the residents of Bolstrad were growing increasingly grateful. Indeed, every time she left the meetings, Nicu would see her out and would unfailingly say: 'if there is ever anything I can do to return the favour, 'Ermione, just let me know.'

Perhaps she would call in that favour and ask him to help her translate these books.