Severus felt like his life had come full circle. Here he was in Minerva's office, forced to endure her silent disapproval as he awaited punishment.
Of course, he wasn't a teenager anymore. She no longer had the power to intimidate him, making him squirm in his seat as he'd done all those years ago. Instead, he straightened his shoulders, meeting her stare for stare.
"I don't suppose you intend to offer me a cup of tea."
"That's what you have to say? I catch you in a compromising position, with a student, no less…"
"You make it sound so sordid."
"Severus, you spent the night with her! You can't possibly expect me to believe that you didn't…"
"Fuck her?"
"Severus!"
"That's what you're referring to, isn't it? No point in dancing around the subject."
Minerva sputtered, clearly taken aback by his approach. Naturally, she would've expected him to be more subdued, quick to apologize for his shameful conduct.
"How dare you…"
"Me? You're the one making insinuations, Minerva, which happen to be untrue. Need I remind you that Miss Granger is recovering from a miscarriage? I doubt she's in any position to engage in such… activities, even if that had been my intention."
Clearly, Minerva hadn't thought of that. She hesitated, scrutinizing his features as he pretended nonchalance.
"You didn't…"
"Of course not."
"What were you doing, then? You were with her all night!"
"As I've already stated, I stopped by to check on her. We had a lengthy conversation, and I mistakenly fell asleep."
"In her bed?"
It would be so easy to say he'd nodded off on the couch, perhaps in an armchair across the room. Indeed, he'd have no trouble convincing her that his behavior had been perfectly appropriate, appalled that she'd suggest otherwise.
Then again…
He was tired of lying, sick of hiding something he wasn't the least bit ashamed of. As long as Hermione wouldn't suffer any consequences…
She wouldn't. One look at Minerva's face made that clear. As far as she was concerned? This was all on him.
"Yes."
"You shared a bed… with a student."
He nodded.
"But you just said…"
"Nothing inappropriate happened, as I've already stated. We talked and I fell asleep. That's it."
Minerva didn't respond, at least, not right away. She stared at him instead, obviously reading between the lines. Visiting Hermione in private. Lying in bed with her. Clearly, there was something between them, whether anything sexual had happened or not.
"There are rules, Severus, standards we must all adhere to. I cannot allow…"
"Very well. Shall I submit my resignation now, or would you prefer to sack me again?"
"That's uncalled for," she said stiffly, though he didn't miss the flash of guilt in her eyes. "You know I had every reason to believe…"
"You believed it because you wanted to."
He was right and they both knew it, even if she'd never admit it aloud. She'd always assumed the worst of him, whether he was the Marauders' scapegoat or a reluctant participant in Dumbledore's schemes. Good versus evil, Gryffindor versus Slytherin…
"Either way," she said, "my assumptions were wrong. I've admitted that, haven't I? I've apologized for my mistake, and I'll do it again if need be. But what happened a year ago… that has nothing to do with you and Miss Granger."
"I disagree."
"Severus, you deliberately took advantage of a student! That's hardly the same…"
"You just proved my point."
"What point?"
"A year ago, and indeed, throughout my ill-fated tenure as headmaster, you assumed the worst. You never asked…"
Minerva sniffed. "You wouldn't have told me."
"Perhaps not, though that's irrelevant. The point is, you never gave me the benefit of the doubt, not even in your own mind."
"You killed Albus! How can you blame me for…"
"I don't blame you," he said quietly. "I never did."
"If that's true, then why bring it up? If you're hoping to use my guilt against me so I'll overlook your more recent behavior…"
He shook his head. "This isn't about guilt. It's about assumptions. You assumed I betrayed Albus. You assumed I was a traitor. Now, you assume I've taken advantage of Miss Granger. Do you know what those things have in common?"
Finally, she was beginning to understand. He could see it in her eyes, sternness giving way to uncertainty.
"Go on."
"There's always been a deeper explanation," he said. "That is, if one bothers to look for it."
She couldn't have done that a year ago. The stakes had been far too high, his facade as a murderer so complete that no one could afford that risk. Despite her rejection, the awful sting of being demonized… no, he couldn't blame her. On the contrary, he was glad she'd come to her own conclusions, knowing that had been safer for them both.
Nonetheless, he'd been wounded by the experience, scarred in ways he hadn't recognized until now. Stupid though it was, he couldn't help longing for her…
Approval? No, that wasn't it. He just wanted her to give him the benefit of the doubt this time, listen to his side of the story before she made any judgments.
"A deeper explanation… for whatever it is you've been doing with Miss Granger."
"Yes."
Minerva sighed, pouring herself a glass of Firewhiskey before she leaned back in her chair.
"Very well, Severus. I'm listening."
He felt a brief moment of panic, unsure how to proceed. Just the thought of confessing his feelings, sharing his secrets, and worse, his vulnerabilities…
"May I?" he said, gesturing at the bottle she'd set on the desk.
"Go ahead."
Relieved, he conjured himself a glass, filling it to the brim. He hadn't drank in several months, which worked to his advantage. The alcohol was much stronger than he remembered, warmth spreading through his bones as his muscles relaxed.
"The war changed us all," he said. "Would you agree?"
"Yes, I suppose it did."
He nodded. "In my particular case, what I went through…"
"I know."
"You don't know," he snarled, haunted by the memories that flashed through his mind. "Those hours I spent in the Shrieking Shack…"
Somehow, he forced himself to talk about it, describing the agony he'd endured. Venom burning through his veins, blood spilling out over that filthy floor. Those terrible feelings of helplessness and futility…
"I'm so sorry, Severus."
"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to understand. I was suffering, bleeding, dying, and I had no one. No one to help, yes, but also no one who cared whether I lived or died. That feeling, the awful, suffocating isolation…" He trailed off, taking another gulp of Firewhiskey.
"Someone cared."
"Yes," he said, "which is the point I'm getting to. What she did…"
"She saved your life."
He shook his head. "Not just my life. She saved my soul."
"Your soul?"
"There was nothing left inside me… or at least, I believed there wasn't. I felt like an empty shell, willing myself to die as I lay at St. Mungo's. When she showed up…"
"She visited you there?" Minerva looked surprised.
"Numerous times."
He described Hermione's visits, hours of reading and quiet conversation that had healed him more than any of the treatments he'd received. By the time he'd finished, Minerva had conjured a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes as she motioned for him to continue.
"I didn't understand it. I can't say I do even now, but having her there…"
"I'm sure that was a comfort."
"Not just a comfort," he said. "Transformative."
"Transformative? What do you mean?"
"Everything changed. I don't know how to explain it, but it was if all the previous rules no longer applied. I was a different person, as was she. Whatever happened before…"
"You were still her teacher."
He shook his head. "I had no intention of returning to Hogwarts. As far as I knew, neither did she. When you persuaded me to come back, I was shocked to find her here. I had no idea…"
"Go on."
"I tried to treat her like any other student, only to realize that was impossible. We'd come to see each other as allies, equals…"
"Friends?"
"Yes," Severus said.
"I wish you'd left it at that. If you had, there wouldn't be an issue."
"You make it sound so simple."
"Isn't it?" she said. "If you'd behaved appropriately, kept your distance…"
"Do you think I didn't try? Well, I did. For months. I tried my damnedest, and it made us both miserable. Even then, I kept trying, which…"
"Which what?" Minerva prompted.
"Caused a lot of pain," he said, "pain that was both unnecessary and entirely avoidable."
"What kind of pain?"
He shook his head, refusing to answer that question. Hermione's ill-fated decision to sleep with Weasley, the ruined potion, her unintended pregnancy… all of that could've been avoided if he'd acknowledged his feelings sooner. Instead, he'd pushed her away, mistakenly believing it was the right thing to do.
"Pain," he said. "Let's just leave it at that."
To Minerva's credit, she let it go, pouring them both another drink. She lifted hers to her lips, peering at him over the rim of her glass.
"You're twice her age."
"And she's three times as mature as her peers."
"Yes, I suppose that's true, though I still don't understand…"
She was too polite to say it, though Severus knew what she was thinking. Why would Hermione, young, attractive, and brilliant, even consider getting involved with someone like him?
"Understand what?"
"Well, I…" Minerva looked flustered, though she quickly recovered. "I always assumed she'd end up with Mr. Weasley."
He rolled his eyes. "You and everyone else."
"Severus, if you did something…"
"I did not," he said. "Their problems began last summer, long before she and I…"
"Yes, she said that, too. Earlier this week in the Hospital Wing…" Minerva trailed off, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Was it yours?"
"Pardon?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. If you were responsible…"
"I wasn't," he said.
"Are you sure?"
"It's rather difficult to impregnate someone without being intimate with them."
"So you never…"
"No."
He wasn't lying. At that point, he hadn't slept with Hermione. Whatever had occurred since then? Well, Minerva hadn't asked about that, had she?
"What about the miscarriage? Did you give her a potion?"
"A potion that terminated her pregnancy?" he said. "No, I did not."
"Miss Granger had motive, and you clearly had the means and opportunity. I'm sorry, Severus, but it's difficult to believe you weren't involved."
On one hand, he wanted her to believe him on his own merits. On the other? He was growing tired of her scrutiny, particularly where such private matters were concerned. Why waste time trying to convince her when there were easier, far more efficient ways to put her doubts to rest?
"Unbreakable Vow."
"Pardon?"
"I'll take the Unbreakable Vow."
Minerva's eyes widened. "Severus…"
"Three points," he said. "One, I have done nothing that could have caused her to become pregnant. Two, I did not use a potion or any other form of magic that resulted in the termination of that pregnancy. Three…"
"We don't even have anyone to perform the spell."
"Then find someone. Bring them to this office, and I'll be happy to swear on pain of death that I'm telling the truth."
Would she call his bluff? Severus waited, barely breathing as her steely gray eyes searched his. Was she trying to gauge whether he was serious? If so, the answer was abundantly clear. His stare never wavered, challenging her until she was forced to look away.
"Well, there's no need to go to such extremes."
He shook his head. "Better to take the Vow so the matter will be settled. I'd prefer that over lingering doubts."
"I don't doubt you, Severus. Everything you said… I believe you."
This time, he knew she was telling the truth. Her expression made that clear, surprisingly neutral without a hint of suspicion. That was the power of the Vow, or even the suggestion of it, especially one that was cleverly worded. She now believed that the relationship had never been consummated, which he fully intended to use to his own benefit.
"You believe me? Then believe me when I say that I've never taken advantage of her. I haven't mistreated her, nor have I pressured her into doing anything she didn't want to do."
"Of course you haven't," Minerva said. "I never meant to imply…"
She'd implied all sorts of unflattering things, though Severus chose to let that go. Better to be generous, at least for now, realizing how close he was to gaining the upper hand.
"It's all right," he said. "You were merely looking out for the school and for Miss Granger, both of which I completely understand."
Perhaps that was too nice, though she didn't seem to notice. Like most people, she was happy to take a compliment at face value.
"Yes, this school is my number one priority. It always has been, and it always will be, which puts me in a difficult position."
"Meaning?"
She hesitated, sighing heavily. "While I appreciate your restraint, you've still violated our standards. A teacher involved with a student… can you imagine what that would do to our reputation if anyone found out? It would be a scandal, Severus, one that could take years to recover from. No parent would trust us with their children…"
Severus burst out laughing. He couldn't help himself, struggling for composure as Minerva glared at him. Somehow, he brought himself under control, still chuckling as he finished his drink.
"Why is that funny?"
"Multiple children have died here," he said. "Countless others have been injured. We've been invaded by murderers and criminals, even the Dark Lord himself, yet the students still come. Do you honestly think that would stop just because Miss Granger and I happen to enjoy each other's company?"
"Perhaps not, but impressions still matter."
"So what would you like me to do? Resign? I already offered…"
"I want you to stop."
"Stop what?"
"All of it," she said. "Anything that goes beyond your duties as a teacher."
He could always agree to those terms, promising to keep his distance. He'd be lying, of course, but with a little more discretion? She'd never know the difference.
Then again…
He'd had enough of sneaking around, at least where she was concerned. Just the idea of giving in to her demands like some meek little schoolboy…
"No."
"No?" she repeated, obviously taken aback.
"I will agree to be discreet," he said. "That is as far as I'm willing to go."
"This isn't a negotiation."
"It is a negotiation," he countered, "based on the simple fact that I still have a choice. Either we reach an understanding that suits us both, or…"
"If you think I won't sack you…"
"I never said that, though I'm sure you'd rather avoid it. Finding someone who can teach potions, by tomorrow morning, no less…"
Tomorrow? It would take her months to fill that position. She knew that as well as he did, exposing what had always been an empty threat.
"What do you want, Severus?"
"I want you to turn a blind eye. Look the other way."
She shook her head. "I don't know if I can do that."
"Why not? If it's the school you're worried about…"
It wasn't. He could see it in her eyes, that stubborn ferocity that was always present whenever one of her Gryffindors was involved. She thought she knew what was best for them, and of course, Hermione was no exception.
"She's an adult, Minerva."
"Yes, but she's still my responsibility."
"For three more months," he said. "Then she'll be free to do as she pleases."
"So why not wait until then?"
Because he couldn't stand to be separated from her for that long? No, he couldn't say that. Besides, there were other reasons, two of which Minerva would be much more likely to accept.
"Friendship."
"Friendship?"
He nodded. "She trusts me, which has enabled me to support her through her recent troubles."
"She has other friends."
"What friends? Potter and Weasley?"
"Well, yes. There's also…"
She trailed off, finally recognizing what he'd picked up on last fall. Hermione had no other friends, at least, not close ones. Even former acquaintances like Longbottom had moved on, having finished their schooling the previous year.
"I might not be an ideal choice," he said, "but I'm the best option she has right now. If you're suggesting that I should abandon her, cut off a source of support she's come to rely on…"
"Of course not, but there are far more appropriate ways to communicate."
"Such as?"
"Your office," she said. "Afternoon meetings, preferably with the door ajar."
He shook his head. "Impossible."
"Why?"
"It isn't safe."
This was his final point, one he hoped would make her see reason. Hermione's safety, the fact that she was a target…
Minerva frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The Room of Requirement," he said. "Do you remember why we moved her there?"
"I'm old, Severus, not senile. Of course I remember."
"Yes, well, the attack on Gryffindor Tower wasn't an isolated incident."
"No?"
"I'm afraid not."
She nodded. "Go on."
"The pregnancy," he said. "I'm sure you've wondered how that happened."
"I assumed it was an accident, but yes, it did seem out of character. She's always been so responsible…"
"Yes, which is why she took a Contraceptive Potion. What she didn't know was that someone had laced it with Mandrake Root, turning it into…"
"A Fertility Potion?" Minerva's eyes widened. "Who would do such a thing?"
"I initially thought it had to be one of the Weasleys… oh, don't look at me like that. It was a logical conclusion, all the more so considering their abhorrent behavior."
"Abhorrent? Severus, you can't blame them for…"
"Treating her like a breeding mare? I most certainly can, though that isn't the point. We eventually realized that it couldn't have been them, which led to bigger problems. The fact that anyone even knew that much about her personal life, that they were able to gain that level of access…"
"Access to the dormitory, too."
"Yes," he said, "which should've been extremely difficult if not impossible."
Minerva hesitated, pouring herself another glass of Firewhiskey. "What else?"
"We've both received notes. Hers in particular contained a number of intimate details, which could've only been obtained through a great deal of eavesdropping."
"Your office?"
He nodded. "Among other places. They've also tampered with several of my own potions, which again, they shouldn't have been able to access."
"You should've told me."
"I know."
To his relief, she didn't scold him any further. Instead, she pulled out a roll of parchment, her expression grave as she slid it across the desk.
"What's this?"
"Read it."
Severus did as instructed, breath catching in his throat as he scanned the letter. "Bloody hell. They let him escape?"
She nodded. "These things happen more frequently now that the Dementors are gone."
"Obviously."
"Of course, Mr. Ashwood couldn't have been responsible for these recent events. Until three days ago, he was still in custody."
"Nonetheless," Severus said, "the similarities are uncanny. I would assume the motivations are, too."
"Revenge for You-Know-Who?"
"Yes. It can't be a coincidence that…"
Trailing off, he frowned as he stared at the letter. No, it couldn't have been Ashwood, though he would've known that even if the boy hadn't been locked up. This second wave of attacks… he couldn't explain it, but they felt different. Slight variations, an undercurrent that seemed colder, more calculating…
"Severus?"
It hit him like a thunderbolt, his mouth dropping open as the pieces slid into place. Same goals. Same strategy. Two separate people. That could only mean…
"Someone's pulling the strings."
"What?" Minerva said.
"Ashwood, this new assailant… we haven't been dealing with lone actors. Someone has been directing their actions, using them as pawns in a bigger scheme."
"How can you know that?"
"Because I was in the Dark Lord's inner circle," he said, "which taught me a great deal about hierarchy. Shared methodology, specific targets… there's a sense of order to it, one that cannot exist without a mastermind."
Minerva turned pale, though she quickly recovered. She took a long sip of Firewhiskey, jaw stubbornly set as she replied.
"You-Know-Who is dead. He couldn't possibly be behind…"
"No, but it could easily be one of his followers."
"They're dead, too. Well, either that or locked up in Azkaban."
"Known Death Eaters, yes, though plenty of others were able to maintain their anonymity. I imagine most would prefer to live quietly now that there's nothing to be gained, but…"
"Most," she said. "Not all."
"Yes."
"Assuming you're right… what do you propose we do about it?"
"Strengthen our defenses," he said. "Set stricter curfews. The rest of the staff should be on alert for suspicious behavior, and of course, we'll want to increase our patrols. Beyond that… there isn't much we can do, at least not yet."
She nodded. "And Miss Granger?"
"You cannot ask me to keep my distance. Not when she's in danger."
"Perhaps not, though I will not tolerate unseemly behavior. If I see anything that is the least bit inappropriate, if I even hear any rumors…"
"You'll sack me?"
"Without hesitation."
She wouldn't, though of course, he knew better than to say so. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, after all… no harm in letting her pretend she still had the advantage.
"I understand," he said. "Thank you, Minerva."
He left her office soon thereafter, wandering the halls for at least an hour. Pointless, really. The students wouldn't be returning until later that afternoon, the castle uncharacteristically peaceful in their absence. No clues to be found, at least not today…
"Morning, Professor."
"Morning," he said, nodding at Filch before he headed down to his office. He summoned a pot of tea, lost in thought as he caught up on a bit of grading.
12 weeks. Just 12 more weeks, and they could put all of this behind them. Hermione would be finished with Hogwarts, leaving them free to…
Try though he might, Severus couldn't finish that sentence. He hadn't allowed himself to think that far ahead, too consumed with more immediate problems. That was true for his relationship with Hermione, though it went much deeper than that. Never, not once, had he planned for a future beyond these walls. Why would he when he'd fully expected to die here, his fate sealed by the coming war?
Even when he'd survived, he'd had nowhere else to go. He'd sat at Spinner's End until he could no longer stand it, deciding that Hogwarts was the better alternative.
Spinner's End? No, he couldn't take her there. That house practically reeked of bad memories, a shabby, dismal little place that served as a perfect metaphor for who he used to be. What they needed was a fresh start, somewhere that wasn't tainted by a past he was desperate to leave behind.
Of course, that too was a radical change. He'd always clung to those memories, refusing to let go no matter how much it hurt. Constant pain, grief and remorse… that was the price he'd paid for what he'd done, the motivation he'd needed as he'd fought to protect Lily's son. Her laughter, the contours of her face…
Over the past year, those memories had faded. They'd become distant, hazy, vivid details replaced by vague recollections. Only her eyes remained clear, though more often than not, it was Potter's face he saw when he pictured them.
Transformative.
He'd used that word with Minerva, though he hadn't fully understood what it meant. Before and after, past and present… he felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to reconcile the two, hardly aware of what he was doing as he rose from his chair. Out of the dungeons and through the front entrance, straight across the grounds…
This was madness, yet he couldn't stop, footsteps drawing him closer to the Whomping Willow. Beyond that was the Shrieking Shack, the one place he'd sworn he'd never set foot in again.
Why was he doing this? What was the point? He still didn't know, holding his breath as he ducked into the tunnel.
"While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."
Slowly, he made his way upward, shivering as a bead of sweat trickled down his spine. This was insane. Beyond insane. He should turn right back around, and…
"I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."
Voldemort's voice was crystal clear, so vivid that Severus could hardly tell the difference between memory and reality. That scream, that terrible, bloodcurdling scream… he'd never known he was capable of making that sound, blood gushing between his fingers as he'd fallen to his knees. The awful thud of his body hitting the floor… he'd lain there helpless, shaking, utterly certain that he'd never rise again.
And yet he had risen. That gaping wound was just a scar now, the room empty and silent as he stepped inside. He might've convinced himself it was some nightmare if he hadn't spotted his clothing, discarded in a moment of desperation as he'd dragged himself across the floor. Pointless, utterly futile, yet he'd still tried. He hadn't given up until he had no other choice, blood loss drawing him into the deepest reaches of unconsciousness.
"Professor Snape?!"
Somehow, she'd brought him back, pulling him from the edge of the abyss. The touch of her fingers, a few precious drops of water…
"I don't know what you shared with Harry, but it must've done the trick. Voldemort is dead."
Severus, too, had died in that moment. Not in a physical sense, but his motivating force, his life's purpose, everything that had driven him to that point…
He'd left every bit of it on the floor, aging bloodstains marking the spot where he'd made his sacrifice. Every drop of it had been for Lily, memories pouring forth in a final attempt at redemption.
That was why he'd felt so empty in the aftermath, drained of everything that had once made him who he was. Gone forever, part of a different life…
Severus disposed of the clothing, scouring the floor with a cleansing spell before he had a better idea. He headed back outside, satisfaction spreading through his bones as he pointed his wand at the miserable structure.
"Incendio."
"The shack!" a distant voice shouted. "Look, the shack is on fire!"
"Ah, let it burn. No use for it anyway."
He smiled, tucking his wand in his sleeve as he headed back up to the castle.
Hermione opened her eyes, stretching luxuriously before she clambered out of bed. Shedding her nightgown, she headed for the bathroom, pausing at the sink to brush her teeth.
For the first time in weeks, she didn't mind looking at her reflection. Her body felt like hers again, no swelling in places where it didn't belong. Even her appetite had returned to normal, her stomach growling as she stepped into the shower.
She'd spent the last few days holed up in the Room of Requirement, only poking her head out to retrieve the baskets of food that appeared at specific times. She knew they'd come from Minerva, who seemed to understand her need for solitude.
That need was gone now, replaced by an insatiable craving for normalcy. Lunch in the Great Hall. A trip to the library to study for her N.E.W.T.s. It felt so good to focus on school again, without a single thing to distract her from the stack of books she plucked off the shelves.
Well, one thing, maybe.
She'd been putting it off for days, sighing heavily as she retrieved a pair of scrolls from her bag.
Dear Hermione,
We were so sorry to hear…
She skimmed the rest of Molly's letter, caught between guilt and irritation as she penned a response.
Dear Molly,
This isn't a tragedy, no matter how much you insist on treating it like one. It was MY choice, and before you say anything, you should know I'm not the least bit sorry…
She couldn't send that version. It was way too honest, bordering on brutal…
Of course, she couldn't pretend to be grief stricken either, expressing emotions she simply didn't feel. If she did, they'd just keep lying to themselves, destroying any chance of reconciliation.
No. She deserved to be accepted for she was, not who they wanted her to be. If they couldn't give her that…
She dipped her quill in the inkpot, brow furrowed as she started to write.
Dear Molly,
I know it's hard, but please understand that this was the best possible outcome for me. I didn't want to be pregnant (hated it, actually), and I'm not ready to have a baby. I don't see that changing anytime soon.
That's what I've been trying to tell you. Not just you, but Ron and Ginny, too. As much as I care about all of you, I have my own goals and dreams. I want to travel and work on my education, which I intend to do for at least the next few years.
This is why Ron and I are better off as friends. He deserves to be with someone like him, a girl who can't wait to get married and start a family.
Whoever she is, I'll be thrilled when he finds her. All I've ever wanted was to see him happy.
Love, Hermione
She wrote a similar letter to Ron, sealing the scrolls before she tucked them in her bag.
With that out of the way, she opened her Transfiguration textbook, refreshing herself on a lesson she'd had a few months ago. She looked over her Arithmancy notes, deciding to delve deeper into a topic that had only been glossed over in class.
Of course, that would require more books.
Her search took her all the way across the library, her arms so full she was afraid she'd topple over as she made her way back to the table.
"Madam Pince… I'm sorry, but did you rearrange my things?"
The librarian looked up from her desk, her expression peeved. "Why in Merlin's name would I do something like that?"
"You're right. Nevermind."
Hermione frowned as she sat down, wondering if she was imagining things. No, her inkpot had been on the right side of the table, not the left. She'd shut her bag, which was now hanging open, and she definitely hadn't dripped ink all over her papers.
"What on earth?"
She moved closer, eyes widening as she spotted the slip of parchment. Those jagged block letters…
THE WORST IS YET TO COME.
Severus finished his grading, helped by a plate of sandwiches and another pot of tea. He chose to skip the evening meal, checking his supply closet and classroom to ensure that everything was in order for the returning students.
By then, it was well after nightfall, the long day finally taking its toll on him. He passed through his office and into his quarters, stifling a yawn.
CRACK!
No, it wasn't a crack. More like a thud, the sheer force of impact bringing him to his knees. He was struggling to get up when he felt an intense, stabbing pain, recognizing the warm trickle that ran down his leg.
Blood.
He pulled out his wand, though that wasn't particularly helpful. Without knowing who'd attacked him or even what spell they'd cast…
Hisssss.
A snake. A bloody snake.
A snake that was already rearing back to strike again.
"No," he said, alarmed by the weakness that was already spreading through his limbs. He attempted to crawl away, willing his body to move with a swiftness it was no longer capable of.
Hisssss.
The snake caught him on the hand this time, venom spreading like Fiendfyre through his veins. Fangs sinking into his chest…
"Av… Avada… Avada Kedavra."
He'd killed it. He'd actually managed to kill the bloody thing, though that was only the first step in his fight for survival. He was shivering violently now, panic clawing at his throat as he rummaged through his pockets. The box… the potions he'd brewed at Spinner's End…
Finally, he found them, struggling to enlarge the vials. He took a large swallow of antivenin, fighting the urge to vomit it back up. Another swallow, another and another until the vial was empty…
It wasn't enough. He could feel that in his weakening muscles, breaths short and shallow. Experience told him that he'd bought himself a little more time, but if he didn't find some way to call for help…
His fingers closed around his wand, gripping it with all the strength he had left. The words… what were the bloody words? He knew them by heart, yet he couldn't seem to recall them, thoughts scattering like dry leaves in the autumn wind.
Breathe, Severus. Focus your thoughts.
Fortunately, he was a skilled Occlumens, able to control his mind where others could not. In a flash, the words came back to him, distant memories appearing at his command.
"Expect… Expecto Patronum."
Nothing happened.
He tried again, more desperate this time, drawing upon images he'd relied upon for decades.
"Expe… Expect… Expecto Patronum."
Not once had they failed, no matter how angry or miserable or grief stricken, or…
That was the problem. He wasn't miserable now. Badly injured and terrified, yes, but miserable?
No. That emotion belonged to his former life, the bitter, remorseful existence he'd sacrificed on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Of course his memories of Lily had lost their power. They were no longer his driving motivation.
With that thought, Severus conjured up a different memory. This one was much more recent, a glimpse of the night he'd just spent in the Room of Requirement. He pictured himself lying next to Hermione, his stomach fluttering as he'd recognized the truth. The love he'd felt in that moment, peace and comfort and absolute certainty …
"Expecto Patronum!"
The Patronus burst from the tip of his wand, though not in the form he'd expected. A panther, sleek and strong… it circled around his body, awaiting further instructions.
"Help. I need… help."
Those were the last words he could manage, closing his eyes as he slipped into unconsciousness.