Characters are property of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter Universe. Thankfully, she allows me to borrow them for a bit of fun.

Chapter 9

Sorrowing Man

As soon as his feet touched the floor of his home at Spinner's End, Severus turned for the stairs leading to the second floor, taking them two at a time. If his calculations were correct, he had about eight minutes to stop the bleeding before it was a lost cause. Once he came to the top of the stairs, he ran full speed to his bedroom that stood at the end of the hall. Kicking the door open, he entered the room where he lay Hermione down on the bed. The Disapparition had knocked her unconscious, so she lay looking utterly lifeless on the dark green quilt. Seven minutes left.

Severus stopped for a moment to collect his bearings. He couldn't do this without the necessary potions. His mind raced as he tried to determine if he had everything he needed. Blood Replenishing Potion was absolutely necessary and he would need lots of it. Wound-Cleaning Potion was next on the list for obvious reasons. Calming Draught would have to be used to help her in enduring the pain; Dreamless Sleep to keep her sedated; Strengthening Potion to aid her recovery once she woke. This list just kept growing. He hurried to the modest bathroom adjacent to the bedroom and flung open the small medicine cabinet. Nothing but a few phials of Headache Potion. He closed the cabinet with a bang, breaking the mirror it contained in half. Six minutes left.

Snape stood over the sink, each of his hands clutching the porcelain basin. He looked at himself in the cracked mirror, noticing a smear of blood on each cheek where Hermione had touched him. "THINK DAMNIT," he yelled at his own reflection. Suddenly it hit him. She still had the bag; the bag that held all of her potions as well as the ones he was able to get from his rooms at Hogwarts. Hopefully there would be enough of what he needed to save her life. Severus scrambled back to the bedroom as quickly as he could. Five minutes left.

Once he entered the room, he carefully removed the boot from her foot that contained the purple bag. Grabbing it, he opened it, quickly thrusting his entire arm into the bag. He couldn't make heads or tails of what she had in this bag. Retracting his arm, he set the bag down on the bed and extended his wand over it. Snape cast two Summoning Charms; the first one for Hermione's bag of potions and the second for his green messenger bag. He turned Hermione's bag upside down, causing the contents to come clattering out. He picked up each of the bottles carefully, categorizing them into small piles. The last phial he selected was one he had not seen before. He wasn't sure how he missed it while he examined the contents of the bag earlier that morning. He uncorked the bottle and drank the liquid gold in one gulp, hoping the effects of the Liquid Luck would kick in in time. Four minutes left.

Severus looked down at the girl, realizing he had to revive her to give her the potions. He couldn't risk pouring them down her throat, in case she accidentally choked to death. "Miss Granger?" he said, leaning down to her ear. No response. Severus touched his hand to her forehead, she was already going cold. He placed the tip of his wand at her temple, hoping it would bring her back from this. "Rennervate."

Hermione's eyes flew wide open and she coughed violently, sending a sticky spray of warm blood all over his front. Three minutes left.

"HELP ME," she pleaded, pulling at her blood soaked shirt.

"Shhhh! You are alright, but you must lay still!"

Hermione never heard him. She lay, thrashing, on his bed gasping for air. "PLEASE…DO…SOMETHING!"

"MISS GRANGER! You have drink this now!" Snape said frenetically, forcing her back down to the mattress.

Hermione opened her mouth, allowing him to pour in two of the phials of Blood-Replenishing Potion. As soon as she swallowed the contents, she started to convulse furiously. The Cruciatus-like spasms were accelerating her heart rate, causing the blood she had in her system to exit through the laceration. At the rate she was bleeding, he would just be prolonging the inevitable by giving her the potions. He had to close the wound. Rolling her to her side, he ripped her shirt open, revealing the deep puncture wound slightly below her breast. He moved to the bed, straddling her legs to keep her as still as possible. Placing his wand at her side, Severus spoke slowly and deliberately, allowing every syllable of the healing spell to roll of his tongue like a song. Nothing happened. He realized that the curse carried in the blade was impervious to the Vulnera Sanentur Spell. "FUCK!" he screamed, throwing his wand across the room. Running his hands through his hair in desperation, Severus looked at the miserable supply of potions. He knew it was a long shot but he grabbed the half empty bottle of Dittany. Uncorking it, he carefully poured several drops over the wound. Nothing. He brought his hands to his face, trying to block the hell that was happening right in front of him. Hermione Granger was dying and there was nothing he could do. Just when he thought he had lost her, he heard it. He looked down at the bloodied girl, noticing the wound had started to bubble and hiss as the edges of the laceration found each other and fused together, leaving an angry pink scar in its wake.

Pulling her into his lap, Severus poured two more phials of the Blood Replenishing Potion and a Dreamless Sleep Potion down her throat. By the grace of the Felix, he had managed to stabilize her in time. He repaired her torn shirt and cast a wandless Cleansing Charm over her, siphoning the sticky mess from her skin and clothes. Picking her up, he carried her to the spare bedroom across the hall where he laid her down on the clean sheets. Severus couldn't keep from smiling as he brushed a strand of her unruly hair from her face. He could see she was already showing signs of promise. Hermione no longer looked like a corpse and she was slightly warmer now that she had the correct amount of blood circulating through her system. She would be out for hours thanks to the dose of Dreamless Sleep he had given her, which was a good thing because he didn't think he could face her yet.

Closing the door behind him, Severus crossed the hall to deal with the carnage. Stopping in the door, he surveyed the damage to his room. It looked like a scene taken directly from a Muggle horror movie. There was so much red. The coppery smell of blood clouded his senses, forcing him to close his eyes to gather his composure. He wanted no recollection of the events that had transpired in this room. Grabbing his wand from the floor, he vanished the entire bed with a flick of his wrist. Next, he followed the crimson trail leading from his bedroom to the first floor, wiping up the evidence of her trauma. This house was depressing enough without all the gore.

As Snape walked by a mirror hanging above his mantle, he was taken off guard. His reflection was barely recognizable. There were dark bags under his eyes, undoubtedly caused by a lack of sleep and extreme stress. Hermione's blood covered the front of his jacket. His hair was matted to his forehead by sweat. In short, he was a complete mess. He knew the Charms that would make him look more presentable, but he needed to clear his head. He vanished the remaining droplets of blood from the floor before retiring to his bathroom for some much needed personal time.

Shedding his soiled clothing, he stepped under the hot jet, allowing the water to wash away all traces of the last twenty four hours. He could feel the muscles in his back and legs loosen as the hot water rolled over his pale skin. This was the closest thing to relaxation he could ever hope to achieve. Severus could also do his best thinking surrounded by the steaming air, which was fitting of course, because he had a lot on his mind.

His thoughts turned to the sleeping girl across the hall. Hermione Granger was like a braided rope tied in a noose around his neck, slowly suffocating him. Severus found it hard to look at her as a student, the more time he was around her. She had saved his life. For that, he felt a certain amount of indebtedness to her, which he hated. He had to free himself from her. He was not a team player. He always worked alone, and he preferred it that way. Alone, he could work faster and was not entangled by having to look out for the wellbeing of someone else. Having her with him would only slow him down and might even get him killed. It was too big of a risk.

Besides, she would be much better off with Potter. He thought once again of the similarities she shared with Lily Evans, the only person he had ever been able to call a friend and mean it. Like Lily, Hermione always seemed to notice the best in people. It was quite annoying. Severus found Harry Potter to be quite insufferable, but Hermione defended him at every juncture – the same way Lily had stood up for her sister, Petunia, who hated Lily for what she was, and the same way she had stood up for Harry's father. Yes, Severus thought, she's much better off with Potter.

Hermione Granger ached. A rotten soreness crept over her as she awoke; her eyes adjusted to the light pouring in through the room's single window. The muscles along her left side and stomach throbbed as if they were slowly being pulled apart fiber by fiber. She had never felt a pain like this. This seemed to be the beginning of a notoriously deep hurt; something that she would truly never be rid of. She lifted her shirt to examine the cause of her current discomfort. The hole in her ribcage was healed over but looked dreadful. Her abdomen was tinged with a deep purplish color and the scar below her breast was excruciatingly tender. She ran a single finger over the elevated pink scar and regretted it instantly. She threw her head back on the pillow in an act of frustration. Hermione had no idea where she was, and given her current state, there would be no getting out of bed to find out. She looked around the unfamiliar room, noticing the stark furnishings. Apart from the bed she was lying in, there was a small desk in front of the grungy window and an old, threadbare armchair in the corner. By the looks of the room, no one had stepped foot in it for some time. Her eyes continued to scan the room with the hope of finding something that would give her an idea of where she was. Then she saw him. There, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and looking as dour as ever, was her savior.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like a bloody nightmare," she replied with a grimace.

"Interesting choice of words."

"How long have I been out?"

"Almost fifteen hours," he said, his face still expressionless. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, but I don't think it would be wise to eat anything just yet."

Snape shifted on his feet. This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. For some reason, he felt like she would see right through his farce. This wasn't really about her safety, this was about his sanity. The small movement didn't go unnoticed by the girl shuffling timidly on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, trying to prop herself up against the headboard.

"As soon as you are able, I am taking you to Potter."

Hermione stalled in her miserable attempt to right herself. She knew where this was going. She had pushed him too far and now was ready to be rid of her. She knew if she left, that he would be alone; alone to face the wrath of the Dark Lord and all of his followers.

"Where will you go?"

"I have my own mission to deal with, Miss Granger, one I must do alone."

"Why must you do it alone? What if he finds you? You need someone there to help you!"

"And just what help do you think you would be against the Dark Lord, Miss Granger? You almost got yourself killed at Hogwarts by letting your guard down. You will be safer with Potter. The Dark Lord does not know that he and Weasley are hunting Horcruxes. His attention will be on me for the time being. Trust me, Miss Granger, Potter needs your help far more than I do."

"Am I so awful that you would rather make yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord than to take me with you?" She spoke not with acrimony, but with grave severity. Hermione's eyes gave her away, however, as they glistened with tears threatening to break the dam she had tried so hard to construct.

"Don't make this emotional," he cautioned austerely, "because whether or not I enjoy your company has nothing to do with this. The Dark Lord must be defeated, and for that to happen, I must go alone and you must go back to your friends. Someone has to be there to lend some level of competence to their mission. You will go tomorrow and that is my final word."

"How can you talk to me like this?"

"What are you going on about?"

"I just skimmed death's knife-edge to save your life!" she spat. "And yet you stand there claiming you don't need anyone's help, when you so clearly displayed evidence to the contrary. What is this really about, Professor Snape? What was the real reason you asked me to go with you?"

"I needed your help."

"No you didn't. Not really," Hermione scoffed. "I risked my own wellbeing for yours, and you have the audacity to lie right to my face?"

"I never asked that of you!" he bellowed, his hands clenched together in fists at his side. "I had the situation under control. What you did in the Headmaster's office was foolish and I can't risk you screwing things up even further."

"You bastard. Malfoy was ready to call the Dark Lord. We would both be dead now if I hadn't done what I did. So I don't buy your pathetic excuses for wanting me gone. So what's the real reason that you want me to leave? Be honest. I at least deserve that."

"Because, Miss Granger, I have grown tired of looking out for you. Every time I turn around, there you are. You are suffocating me."

Hermione went very still upon hearing his testimony. So there it was. She was suffocating him. That wasn't the reason she was expecting to hear, but it stung nonetheless. She thrust herself off the bed, only to find her vision blurring from the shock of her abrupt movement. Her side felt like someone had struck her with a white-hot poker fresh from a bed of smoldering coals. Hermione went rigid, a haze unconsciousness threatening to consume her. She would be damned if she let him see her come apart. She couldn't wait until tomorrow. She had to leave now. Gritting her teeth through the throbbing pain, she grabbed her shoes lying next to the bed and put them on. Hermione finally worked up enough courage to look at Severus. His outline was slightly distorted by her salty tears, but she could tell he was still standing in front of the door, simply staring at her. He didn't look angry like she expected. If anything, he looked totally apathetic toward the whole situation. It infuriated her. She forced herself to hold her head high despite the fact she was seconds away from crumbling to pieces both mentally and physically.

"Good-bye, Professor," she whispered as she brushed past him.

"Miss Granger, wait."

Hermione stopped, the tears falling from her eyes freely now. She turned only to see her purple bag at the end of his extended arm. She snatched the bag from his hand, giving him nothing but a vengeful glare in return. She didn't look back as she made her way down the stairs and out the front door. Seconds later, the loud crack signaling Hermione's Disapparition carried through the old house before finally settling heavily on the shoulders of Severus Snape.

The moment Hermione felt the hard earth beneath her feet she collapsed to the ground, overcome by a severe fit of sobs. The fact that she had managed to Disapparate to the Forest of Dean without splinching was a miracle because her mind was everywhere but where it should have been. Her side was splitting and her feelings were equally battered. Regardless of how she felt, however, she knew she couldn't stay where she was. Sitting up, Hermione wiped her tears and looked at the forest surrounding her. Even though she had been here several times before, the woodland seemed to have a certain air of malevolence about it tonight. The setting sun was now a fiery orange semicircle obscured by the inky-black, twisted limbs of the tree tops. The branches reminded her of sickly skeletal hands waiting to claim her once the light faded. Hermione shuddered, the gravity of her current situation finally crashing down on her. She was alone and, in a little less than an hour, she would be swallowed up by the fast-approaching darkness.

In her rush to flee from Snape, Hermione had failed to take into consideration that she had absolutely no plan once she made it to the woods. She had taken the bloody man at his word when he told her he had sent her two friends to this wood. Now, she was questioning her judgment, even though none of it mattered given that she was already here. The large of expanse of wild wilderness would be a sufficient hiding spot for her, at least until she could get a better idea of where Ron and Harry were. Then there was the issue of the darkness. Hermione was utterly useless in the dark, as cliché as that sounded. In the dark, it was harder to practice constant vigilance. The darkness hid all sorts of dangerous creatures, none of which Hermione was in the shape to deal with. In the dark, and especially alone, Hermione's imagination tortured her. She could already feel the bubble of hysteria floating precariously in her chest, waiting for the chance to rear its ugly head. If she didn't collect herself soon, the impending night would eat her alive.

Grabbing her purple bag from the ground beside her, Hermione used her wand to summon a phial of Calming Draught. Uncorking the small bottle, she allowed the sweet, viscous liquid to flow through her body, washing away the trauma. Much to her relief, the pain in her abdomen lessened and her mind, though still slightly in a state of disarray, seemed free from the confrontation she had had with Snape. As long as she could keep her thoughts free from panic, she could cover a considerable amount of ground.

Hermione's destination was the River Wye. She, Harry and Ron had placed their tent along a more secluded part of the rivers' bank. Due to the fact that the three of them had not anticipated being captured when they went into London for supplies, they left it standing. If the boys were going to be anywhere, that would be the place. Hermione had purposefully Apparated away from the camp in case the location was compromised. If her calculations were correct, and she was quite certain they were, she was about seven kilometers south of where she needed to be. There would be no magic after this point unless it was absolutely necessary. It would be too much of a risk. Hermione took a deep breath and began her trek through the forest.

It was almost midnight and the moon hung high in the sky surrounded by a halo of frost. Unfortunately, its glow could hardly reach the ground, making the forest floor treacherous underfoot. Hermione shivered as she walked, each tremor wrecking havoc on her midsection. She had never been so miserable in her life. She had used the last of the Calming Draught she had a little more than two hours ago. She knew her body was burning through the potion faster than she had anticipated because she could feel her nerve slowly unraveling with each step she took.

"Focus, Hermione," she reminded herself. "You are almost there."

She picked up the pace, ignoring the burning pain creeping up her legs. Hermione had been walking for hours and even though the landscape was draped in velvety blackness, she could recognize some of her surroundings. She was getting closer. Within minutes, she was there. Or at least, she should have been. There was no camp. No tent. No one. She recognized the charred remains of a fire they had set. She saw the outline of the tent on the ground. But they were gone. Where? She didn't know.

She started to panic. Her breathing increased and, with it, the pain in her side. She could hear herself sobbing loudly. Tears were streaming down her face. It was hopeless. She would never find Harry and Ron now. She hadn't the slightest idea where to look. There was nothing to do except let the sorrow overtake her and melt into the ground. And that she did.

Severus slouched on the dusty sofa in his darkened living room, staring at front door. Truth be told, he was staring through it rather than at it at this point, willing his mind to transport him somewhere other than his present little corner of Hell. Hermione Granger was gone and had been so for several hours. After all, that was the outcome he wanted, wasn't it?

His mind returned to the conversation he had with her before she finally walked away from him. Severus had been cruel to her, knowing full well that was the only thing that would get her to leave without much of a fight. He had lied to her outright. He had no mission. His only task in this whole sodding business was thwarted when he so foolishly allowed himself to be found out. Why did he have to be so cold and unfeeling all the time? Why couldn't he admit to himself that he actually enjoyed the company of others? Why did he have to drive away everyone he cared about? This last thought made him sit straight up. Is that what had happened? Had he, despite his best efforts, grown to care for the girl who he had long considered a thorn in his side?

He stood up and walked over to a table in the corner of the room. He grabbed a glass and reached for the bottle of Firewhisky sitting beside it when something within himself stopped him. A feeling of absolute conviction nearly brought him to his knees. He had to see her again, regardless of how pathetic it made him feel. No matter how much he tried to fight it, Hermione Granger was something to him, bound to him by some invisible force. A guttural growl escaped his lips as he grabbed his cloak its hook. He didn't know whether he hated himself more for forcing her to leave or for going after her. At this point, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had to make things right. He pulled on his cloak, stepped through the doorway, and shut it with a bang behind him.

Author's Notes:

As always, reviews are welcomed and appreciated! Also, a special thanks to those of you who continue to read this obsession of mine. All of you, without any doubt, make my day.