Hermione knelt in front of the fireplace, now blazing green, and shouted worriedly into the void.
"Harry! Harry, don't you dare disappear from me like that! I'm going to go bananas here soon!"
From afar, there was a scuffle, a childish cry, and the apologetic muttering of her best friend:
"Sorry, Herms, James lost his dummy. How are you and the Prof. doing there, anyway?"
Hermione fidgeted on the floor, trying to fold herself into the most comfortable position, possible under the current circumstances. She did not sleep for more than two days, she drank only coffee and ate hospital crackers, and she worried herself to the feel of numbness.
"What news from the Aurory?"
Harry grabbed his son's armpits and flopped with him in front of the fireplace.
"Jim, say hello to your Aunt Herms. Well, truthfully, you have alarmed everyone here, Kingsley is urgently preparing international portkeys, Sirius has bought a ticket for the next flight to Melbourne and is going to take off at dawn. Mr. Malfoy has brought in his, ahem, former brethren. We can handle it. How is Professor Snape?"
Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair.
"Severus was unconscious for almost thirty-two hours. Can you imagine the buzz at the Australian airport when, in broad daylight, someone threw a poisoned dagger at British tourists?"
Harry shook his head.
"I can imagine. Did the Oblivators rush right in?"
"Surprisingly, no, not at all. The magical community here has a more liberal view on the relationship between Muggles and wizards. An ambulance immediately came to our aid, followed by the Healers, and the Minister of Magic himself. The whole incident was attributed to a terrorist act, and we were taken to the hospital of St. Ignatius."
"What do they say about the state of the Professor?"
"The Dark Mark has taken on most of the poison. If the dagger had hit not his arm, but, say, the lung, it is highly unlikely that Severus would have escaped with only fever and general malaise. The weapon was impregnated with snake venom, akin to something that Nagini possessed. Severus had been taking the antidote for years, so the medics said he would come to his senses in a week."
"So, you are going to sit at his bedside without food and rest, and worry yourself into a frenzy?" Harry scolded his best friend, silently praising Merlin that everything was ok with Hermione and Professor Snape.
Hermione shook her head in annoyance.
"Harry James Potter, don't tell me what to do. Tell me, better, what did you manage to dig up about the dagger?"
Harry raised his hand in a conciliatory manner, never ceasing to gently rock his dozing son.
"Sirius will arrive tomorrow and he will tell you everything if you promise to eat and sleep. He has some startling news."
Hermione frowned.
"Did you manage to find out who our enemies are?"
The door to the chief mediwizard's office opened wide, and a plump magician with a shock of gray hair walked inside.
"Madam Snape, please calm your spouse. He brought my two nurses to tears, he refuses to take any medication, arguing that even Voldemort's Cruciatus did not stop him from teaching his lessons, and he demands to see you."
Hermione smiled shyly, Harry laughed: Professor Snape will definitely be fine.
"Give the Prof. my wishes for a speedy recovery!" Harry shouted after Hermione's hastily retrieving back and disconnected from the Floo network.
Hermione ran down the corridors, already hearing Severus's indignation and the admonitions of the Healers. For the first time in the past crazy days, she was able to breathe out with relief. Fear gripped her heart, making it difficult to think rationally. The Shrieking Shack, the battlefield, the bleeding Severus, and her own helplessness loomed before her eyes. At first glance, the poison that struck her husband did not pose a mortal danger, but the dagger was intended for her, and Severus at the last moment shielded her from the blade. Hermione straightened her hair, casually glancing at her own reflection in the door, and marched into the room: a serious thrashing awaited her faithful darling husband.
"Severus Tobias Snape! Don't you ever dare scare me this much, you impossible, stubborn...!"
"Darling, be so kind as to tell these lovely Healers that I'm perfectly fine and quite capable of leaving their unpleasant establishment," Snape interrupted Hermione's tirade in a silky voice, acting as if nothing terrible had happened.
"Severus, stop this arbitrariness now and go back to bed! You have been unconscious for nearly two days! The Healers said the poison could have caused you serious damage if they hadn't intervened in time."
"I am immune to the venom of the king cobra, no danger threatened me, besides, the Mark, as I expected, took most of the curse upon itself."
Snape kept thinking and reasoning, trying to appeal to the voice of professionalism of the Healer, she even explained something to him in response, but Hermione did not hear their dialogue. She sank devastated into the hard chair next to Severus's bed and stared at the wall.
Outside, a fine rain rustled, the wind was howling in the leaves, and the weather was unpleasantly cold. Hermione squeezed the end of the sheet in her fingers, not realizing that Severus had been trying to reach her for a while. Raising himself on his elbows and at once losing all his self-praise, he unclenched her white fingers and intertwined them with his own.
"Hermione? Can you hear me?"
She shuddered, waking up from her brooding stupor, and pressed her cheek to their closed palms.
"I was sitting by your bed and I could only see the healing runes flicker around you, the indicators of your state change with every passing minute, and I realized that I was absolutely helpless. Why do I need all this Artifactory and Arithmancy if I was unable to feel the approach of the Dark Curse and ward it off from both of us? I still don't understand how the dagger was able to pierce our Protego? How, Severus?"
"Hermione, listen to me, please."
"No, you listen to me, Severus! What can I do with your stupid passion for self-sacrifice and nobility? Why do you have to face death every time?"
"Because I have met the Death a lot of times, it will recognize me, turn around and leave."
"Snape, I can see that your sarcastic-arse is quite all right, but meanwhile your wife is right about her admonishing," Sirius Black commented from the doorstep and entered the room.
"How long have you been eavesdropping there in the doorway?" Severus inquired, lifting his eyebrow in his trademark gesture.
"Enough to enjoy your cute old-married couple squabble."
"Sirius!" exclaimed Hermione, rushing from her chair, "I'm so glad you are here!" she smiled wearily and waved to Black in a friendly way. He, in turn, dragged a chair from the opposite end of the room and saddled it backward.
"Well?" Snape sat up eagerly in bed, stubbornly trying to lean against the pillow.
"Well, I know who that mysterious wizard who threw a dagger at you is. He is my brother."
When the silence in the ward turned from openly shocking to painful, Hermione decided to break the silence.
"Regulus? But how is that possible? Why does he need to harm us? How did he manage to survive?"
"This is where the fun begins," Sirius thoughtfully ran his finger along his chin, "you don't know, but Reg is an Animagus. Raven, to be precise. When he was drowning in that cave teeming with Inferis, the instinct of self-preservation made him turn and fly away from there. I don't know exactly what could have gone wrong, apparently, Voldypants's men intercepted him. Regulus was very sick, almost magically exhausted, when the Death Eaters found him. His memory of everything that could directly or indirectly inform the remaining Blacks of his whereabouts was erased. What can I say, even I thought he was dead! Until I spoke to my mother in the Afterlife, and she told me to look for Reg among the living."
As Hermione exchanged shocked glances with Snape, Sirius clenched his fists and struggled to fight the spell of uncontrollable magic bubbling through his veins. Black was furious. Surprisingly, Snape understood him very well.
"That is, if I understood you correctly: Regulus became a victim of circumstances, a hired killer on a leash? And he needs help."
Sirius nodded.
"The dagger he threw at you belonged to the Blacks, but it seems my mother gave it to our dear cousin Bella for her marriage."
"The Lestranges?" Snape muttered thoughtfully. "The circle of our suspects is narrowing."
"Are you sure you still want to meet Hermione's parents? It's dangerous here, guys."
"No more dangerous than Britain. Plus, the Ministry has promised to put security on us."
"Sirius, we won't be in Australia for more than three days," Hermione pleaded. "I have to see my parents, I need to help them how you need to help your brother."
"I'll look after you too, otherwise Harry will rip my head off. And just ..." Sirius threw up his hands. "We are all strangely connected. We need to help each other."
"If you say so," Snape snorted, "so be it, I'll share the Potion of Pristine Memories with you, there are enough vials for everyone. So, you can go and give Regulus his memories back."
"How could you think that I am so selfish?"
"I'm too tired, Black, which means I have to deny myself the pleasure of watching you beg for the potion from me."
"Severus!" Hermione reproached her husband, "Do I need to remind you who brewed the last two batches of the aforementioned potion?"
Snape leaned back on the pillows and pretended to fall asleep. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You, miserable Slytherin!"
"Have some mercy on the dying person, wife."
"Just tell me, Little witch, how do you put up with this ungrateful bastard?" Sirius asked thoughtfully.
"I love this bastard, what can I do about it?" Hermione shrugged, looking at her husband lovingly.
Snape grinned contentedly and did fall asleep shortly afterward, to the quiet muttering of Hermione and Black.