It hurts to wake. An odd, burning sensation tightens the muscles in my neck, and I'm fairly certain at least two of my ribs are broken. Bit of a scrape on my forehead. My knees hurt. All of this is to be expected. What is unexpected is that I am alive. What is foremost in my mind is that I have no idea if she is.

She was wandless. Barefoot. Clad in a nightgown. Running from the image of me pressing my lips to the hem of the Dark Lord's robe like a man without any pride left. Like a dog. I have to find her.

Against the protestations of the mediwitch who is trying to heal me, against the protestations of my aching body, I struggle to my feet. The room is cramped with the wounded. I trip over an outstretched hand, barely keep my feet under me, don't stay long enough to bear the brunt of their curses. I pitch out of the room and down the hall.

I have no idea where I'm running. I'm not quite in my right mind. I just need to see her. Need to know she's safe. That she has found her wand, and her shoes and she's whole and in one piece. The halls are jammed with jittery students and staff alike. It's obvious we've triumphed, but that means so very little. Victors take casualties, too. And I don't see her anywhere.

I bark invectives at students unlucky enough to stunt my progress. I shove collogues bodily out of my way. My vision starts to swim. I'm not well enough to be dashing headlong through corridors thick with humanity. I should sit down. But I need to find her. Instead, I collide with Albus. He grips me with a startling ferocity and I wince as it compresses my ribs. There are tears in his eyes.

"Severus!"

My head starts to spin. I feel a ripple of unhealthy laughter bubble up my throat.

"I'm not dead, you mad bastard."

He says something in return, but the blood rushing in my ears drowns him out. I grasp his lapel, half to demand his attention, half to keep myself upright.

"Where is she?"

I'm trying to make out what he's saying, figure out which direction is up, interpret the meaning of his gestures.

"She didn't have her wand, Albus…"

My vision goes black at the edges and I can feel my knees start to buckle when I'm buoyed by the sight of a bushy-haired girl, a robe casually draped over her nightdress. Her feet are still bare. I want to weep with relief, but can't spare the energy. Instead I make an awkward lunge in her direction. I don't get very far. Albus has me by the forearms, and is holding me back.

"Let me go, you daft old bat!"

"Severus," he pleads, "let me speak with her first."

I can't make sense of his madness, but I find myself too weak to break free from his grasp. Instead, I shout her name. She whirls around to face me, and in a moment she's rushing down the hall towards us. She pulls up short just before Albus and me. I marshal one last effort and thrust his hands roughly from me. I take a shaky step towards her, and lay my hand aside her face.

"Hermione."

Her face goes white, and her mouth falls open. I can hear Albus blathering at her over my shoulder, but she's transfixed by my touch. When she looks up at me there is a strange light in her eyes.

"Have you gone mad?"

My voice is strained, and comes out as a whisper, but I smile at her. "Perhaps a little."

She shudders and raises her hand to mine. She pries it off her face and thrusts it back at me.

"Get your bloody hands off me, you traitor."

I slump backwards, and find myself grateful that Albus is merely a step away. He steadies my frame as my thoughts continue to reel. His voice is calm & clear as usual, but there's a dark edge to it when he speaks.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

She doesn't take her steely gaze off me as she speaks.

"We most certainly do, Headmaster. But first, I think it's imperative that we get Professor Snape in a full Body Bind. I can give testimony that I saw him colluding with Voldemort at the outset of the battle. "

My mouth goes dry. Dryer.

"My dear, I don't think you have quite the whole picture."

Oh.

Yes.

I remember.

I stare down into her uncomprehending eyes. I remember when they looked at me with love. I remember when I stole than love from her, thinking it a kindness. I find myself quite unsurprised that I have, yet again, managed to bollocks things up. Well done, Severus. Well done.