Chapter Fourteen:

The Great Hall was dimly lit, which came as a surprise to the attending alumni, who had come to associate it with liveliness and cheer. There was a hushed silence in the room, broken intermittently by murmurs and soft howls when feet were stamped over.

"Are you sure we're not late?" Hermione asked nervously, as she fiddled with the strap of her midnight blue dress.

"Yes, I'm sure, Hermione. Stop fretting." Ginny said reassuringly.

A sudden spotlight quelled the witch's doubts and the Headmistress stood on the podium, bathed in silvery light. She gave a sweeping glance around the room, cleared her throat and began to speak.

"A very warm welcome to all the students as well as ex-students present here tonight. Your mere presence helps diminish the memories of the hardships we faced, but it also serves as a reminder of the fact that all of you standing here fought for what is right and prevailed. We lost a lot of loved ones on multiple occasions and today we shall remember them all with gratitude, for they gave up their lives to make ours better."

She paused for a moment and then said, "To Albus." With a flick of her wand, a solitary candle at the far end of the room lit up. The students watched the flames for a few seconds and soon enough, there was whispering and wand flicking throughout the room. Hermione stood in a corner, watching the room light up, willing herself to ignite a candle. She did not go unobserved.

"Potter, are you really that blind?" Draco Malfoy said, leaning against a wall and taking in his surroundings.

"Not now, Malfoy. It's not quite the right occasion for duelling."

"Of course, that's all you Gryffindors think about, isn't it? I'm talking about Her- Granger."

Harry frowned at the blonde-haired man and then turned to look for his friend in the crowd.

"Right there."

Harry frowned once again and followed Draco's pointed finger. Intrigued, he asked, "What about her?"

"She doesn't seem off to you?"

"Off? Spill it, Malfoy, I really don't have the time right now. She's worried, yes, but I don't see how that concerns you."

"Well maybe it wouldn't if I hadn't had to talk her out of jumping off a cliff a few weeks ago."

"What?!"

"Let's go somewhere more private, shall we?"

"Merlin, Harry, this is crazy. I mean, I knew she was upset, but not... Suicidal!"

"Shh, Gin, keep it low," Harry whispered, as he twirled his wife to the soulful notes of the orchestra.

"Sorry. So, uh..." Ginny looked around and, satisfied that they were not being overheard, continued softly, "How did he happen to be there? I mean, I'm glad he was, but..."

"It was lady luck, I suppose. He said that he goes there occasionally and it was one of those days. Gin, what's to be done? We need to speak to her of course, but I think there's someone else we need to speak to as well. Maybe it'd be better if their relationship wasn't so caustic. I get that it must be incredibly hard, but they've got to try and be cordial."

"You're right. So is Malfoy; she's indeed lost weight. I can't believe I didn't notice! Especially after all the dress trials we had… I bet she's hiding her dark circles below a concealment charm. I'll talk to her. Do you think you can handle...?"

"I'll do it."

"Go on, you know you want to."

"Malfoy? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sweet Salazar, will it kill you to call me Draco?"

Hermione frowned. She'd forgotten yet again.

"Will you do it or should I? You know, he really won't appreciate me doing this," he said, gesturing to the glowing candles.

Sighing, Hermione flicked her wand and said, "To Ron."

"That's it, Granger."

"Good Godric, will it kill you to call me Hermione?" She smirked and turned away.

Harry approached the surly man cautiously, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the topic.

"And what is it that brings you to the fringes of this raucous party, Mr Potter?"

Startled, Harry stepped out of the shadows and decided to go for it head-on.

"With all due respect sir, I love Hermione like a sister. And I know her almost as well as she knows herself. Probably better. I don't know what you see, but I see her suffering. I can't be with her and help her all the time, I can't make her eat and help her sleep and figure out what it is that's wrong, but you can. Or you could hurt her, very badly. Believe me, Hermione is the strongest person I know, but she won't be the same if the world keeps rejecting that heart of hers."

He stared up at the man, searching desperately for some sign of acknowledgement.

"She chose this. She trusts you. It's the highest compliment she could give. All these years, and she's trusted only a handful of people to such a great degree. Please. If you can... if you would... do what you can for her."

Suddenly feeling out of place, but satisfied with his sincere attempt, he retreated back to the centre of the room, missing the almost imperceptible nod that he had inspired.

Severus paced back and forth, his shoes echoing throughout the hallway as he frowned at the dull voices coming from the Great Hall.

Minerva ought to send those pesky brats off, it's way past curfew. Especially Potter, he's definitely had one too many firewhiskeys. With all due respect? He snorted. She trusts me? More like she wants to save her skin. Hmph. Where is she, anyway? It's been long enough. She should know better than to be late. Especially when she knew that I have prior commitments to fulfill. Commitments. Was it...? No, it couldn't have been six days since...

He groaned. Hadn't the Healer said something about a tracking device? Merlin have mercy. How was he to find her and tell her?

Approaching footsteps pulled him out of his reverie and he schooled his features into a less agitated expression. He was somewhat relieved to see Hermione walking towards where he had been pacing, but his relief turned to alarm when he noticed her doubling up every few paces, clutching her stomach and moaning.

"Hermione?"

"Severus. I... uh, just excuse me, I'll be right back."

"No wait, does it... well, hurt?"

"Yes, I think I overate and my stomach... wait, what do you mean by 'it'?"

"The tracker."

"The tracker?" Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh. Is it already... I mean, do we...?"

"Yes." He looked away. "I'm sorry I didn't keep track. I think we ought to return at the earliest. The longer we delay, the more uncomfortable it will get."

"But Professor McGonagall wanted me to speak to some of the first years. I don't think I can explain the situation to her... Is it possible... I mean, can we- argh!" She sank to her knees as a wave of agony struck her.

Clenching his jaw, Severus pulled her up and began leading her towards the staircase. Seven flights of half-carrying, half-dragging, and they turned to the left corridor to face the room that would give them just what they needed - privacy. The room was poorly lit, much to the relief of Hermione and was minimalistic, comprising a bed and a side table.

Despite having gone through the process multiple times, she still felt awkward and conscious about the fact that he could see her face and probably even decipher her thoughts from her expressions. It had always been the same. The potion, no contact apart from what was necessary and no interactions for a few hours after it was done.

"I'm sorry I don't have the potion with me right now. I can use a partially effective spell for myself, but I'd rather not try it on you given your current condition," he said as they walked towards the bed. "You may want to consider using some support."

It's going to hurt. Damn it, Hermione, how could you forget? And what does he mean by support?

She soon realised what he had meant. It did indeed hurt, but her arms seemed to hurt even more, carrying the weight of her body as she tried to keep her torso off the bed. And the potion, oh how she longed for it. Her triceps seared and she gingerly kept one palm on Severus's shoulder. He tensed momentarily, but soon relaxed and continued the rhythmic motions she had grown accustomed to. She found that she was able to rest her torso on the bed by locking her hands behind his neck and although she felt it was too intimate a gesture, she had no choice. It was that or falling unconscious due to the pain and that was certainly not an option. The Ministry had been only too willing to conduct trials for those who didn't fulfill their requirements and ship people off to Azkaban without good cause.

No, she didn't want to rot in prison, or even have a case against her, so she pulled her husband closer to her body and linked her hands. His head brushed against her shoulder for an instant and she thought that maybe he needed to rest his upper body as well, but he mumbled an apology and rose up once again. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and the dampness that she had felt during the brief contact drew her to the realisation that it was as physically exhausting for him as it was mentally tiring for her. She had never really thought of what it all meant to him, and while she was far from having that conversation with him, she felt that the least she could do was to be considerate to him.

When she felt the familiar sensation against her legs, he began to get up and move away from the bed, but she tugged at his arm till he lay down beside her.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?" Severus asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Thank you."

Author's Note: Hi readers. I've settled in college and I love it here! Again, I may not post for a long while, please bear with me.

I've adopted a slightly different style in this chapter, it's more like small paragraphs at different settings and with different characters, so do let me know how it is.

Also, I've borrowed a major chunk of Harry's dialogue to Severus from somewhere, but I can't find the source, so in case you do, let me know.

I hope the tracking device part was well explained, basically she experiences abdominal pain due to the tracker when they're falling back on the Law requirements.

Do I need to change the rating? It's not really M, is it?

Send in your thoughts. Please review. xxx