Chapter 26

"In a soulmate we find not company but a completed solitude."

~Robert Brault

After Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Headmaster's office, they went to the Hospital Wing, to see friends and family that were injured.

Harry hurried to Professor McGonagall, who was the first teacher he saw in the Infirmary. Pride was in her eyes as she watched him approach.

"Professor, where is Civia?" he asked quietly, trying not to be noticed by others.

Worry lined her face as she replied solemnly, "This way, Harry. Madam Pomfrey is with her now."

She lead him further down the wide hall, to a less populated area, and veered off to the right, and stopped.

His aunt was in the hospital cot, with gauze wound tightly around her head, and numerous bruises covering her exposed skin and dried blood was still on her face. In the big cot, she appeared even smaller than normal, all curled up—small, hurt, and…defeated, somehow.

She was asleep or unconscious, but not peacefully. Restlessly, she twitched and tossed and turned, her hands reaching out, clutching at the bed sheets desperately, and she muttered in her sleep, most of it unintelligible, though Harry distinctly heard her whimper softly before urgently calling out "Severus!"

Above her head, the phoenix—older, having grown in the couple hours since he'd took the Killing Curse for Civia, about half grown—sat on the headboard, resting above Civia and gave a sad trill.

Harry winced at the sight of seeing his aunt in pain. "How—how is she?"

Madam Pomfrey looked up from the potions she was putting down. "She should be fine. She has a severe concussion, and when you figure in the spell damage she suffered, I can't give her any dreamless sleep potions. She's been unconscious since she arrived, and has spent most of that time calling out for Severus," she finished in a sad whisper.

"But will she be okay?"

Madam Pomfrey hesitated, eyes lingering sadly on Civia's whimpering form. "Normally, I would say yes, but…I doubt her heart will be in recovering. Time will tell, my boy. Only time will tell."

When Civia awoke, it was late at night, and everyone else in the Infirmary was asleep, and all was quiet. She woke with a gasp. "Severus!"

After pulling on her glasses, with restless eyes, she observed her surroundings, and knew she had to do something before she could sleep.

By the sheer force of her will, the Potions Mistress forced herself to get up from the cot and stand, regardless of the pain. She was still in her frock coat from earlier. Briskly waving her hand, she transfigured it into a modest, dark blue dressing gown. Pulling it tighter around her, Civia strode through the Infirmary, peeking at every occupant, until—finally—she found her target in the farthest end of the wing, the bed's occupant hidden by the curtain around it.

Severus was in a cot, looking blissfully peaceful, his eyes shut.

Civia grabbed the edge of the bedside table, her knees wobbling in disbelief, as she saw the steady movement of his chest. A sob nearly burst from her before she covered her mouth, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

He was alive. Oh, Merlin, Severus wasn't dead.

Severus was alive.

Tears of joy and love clouded her vision, but she swept them away. Severus looked worn, with a few minor bruises, and thick bandages at his neck over the wound from Nagini.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep anywhere else, she carefully climbed into the cot with her husband, and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent—his heavenly scent that was like home—sandalwood, herbs, and something she couldn't name that was simply, distinctly Severus. With the warmth of him next to her, his scent in her nose, and the sounds of his breathing and heartbeat in her ears, Civia slipped into a blissfully dreamless, peaceful sleep, knowing there was no place better for her right now, than there.

Minerva and Poppy weren't expecting to find Civia gone from her cot, in the morning, though they certainly weren't expecting the find her where she was, though they should have.

It was heartfelt sight. Both were still asleep when they saw.

Civia had crawled in next to Severus, half curled up, lying on her side facing him. Her head was resting on his chest, above his heart. His face was buried in her messy raven curls. Severus' arms were around her, and she had grasped his hands in hers, their wedding rings side by side.

Despite their injuries and the pain they were surely in, both had soft, content smiles on their faces, though it was less obvious on the Potions Master's, of course. But it was a smile, and it was for a good reason. Severus would surely be exonerated and they would be free to be together, without secrets and spying and deceit.

There was hope for the Snapes yet.

A/N: YAY! Now you can all stop being P.O.'ed at me! He's alive! Tee hee, and you all took me seriously.

Please don't ask HOW...all shall be explained next. Four more chapters. YAY!

How many of you love me now? LOL.