A.N ~Hermione is in a bad way. Poor thing. Best hope someone tall dark and brooding is around to begrudgingly help… Happy reading!

Hermione awoke in the early hours of dawn, tired and needing the bathroom. She was sick, she could feel it. Her head ached heavily. The witch surmised that her immune system was weakened without her magic, though there was no way to be sure. The professors teaching robes were around her again and she wondered if she had somehow stolen them in her sleep. Her muscles were cramping something fierce now, she barely managed to limp to the jungle and back before promptly collapsing on the sand. The heavy thud of her body hitting the beach awoke Severus, who hastily clamoured from behind the wall. The piece of glass had fallen from her pocket and now lay glinting in the sand. He paid it little notice as he hoisted Hermione up and carried her into their shelter. His heartbeat was swift with panic.

Gently tilting her head back, the wizard poured some water down her throat, massaging her neck to encourage swallowing, same as he would when giving someone a potion. The witch awoke briefly, murmuring that she was okay and simply needed sleep, before slipping out of consciousness again and remaining there.

Severus knew she needed food, direly. She had been light as a feather when he picked her up, a mere shadow of the curvaceous figure she had begun to develop. Realising her life was now in his hands, he groaned. He had had well enough of the life or death of the golden trio being on his head. Why the hell had he offered to help the foolish chit in the first place?

Green coconuts held the most juice, and if he could knock one down at least he would be able to get some sugar and hydration into her system.

A bright flash caught his eye as he started down the beach. The sun was beating down again, like the storm had never happened. It reflected on the small piece of glass Hermione had found earlier. He picked it up, surprised to find it was warm to the touch. Confused, he pocketed it and continued, determined to get a coconut.

When he returned to the shelter, Hermione was awake and sitting up. She smiled at him weakly, her eyes glassy. Schooling his face to a portray a calm he did not feel, Severus punctured a hole in the coconut and handed it to her. Her arms shuddered as she tried and failed to lift the fruit to her mouth, and he cursed himself. Taking the fruit from her limp hands, he held it to her lips and was strangely hypnotised by the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed desperately. When the coconut had been drained, he lowered it. Hermione leaned back against the dirt wall of the cavern. Severus tossed the glass from his pocket onto the ground and reached for the water bottle.

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw it, remembering.

"Professor, the glass. We might be able to make fire". Her voice was weak and thready, coming out no louder than a whisper. Summoning the energy to speak felt like running a marathon.

"What? How are we going to do that?"

"The glass, in the sunshine. Magnifies and pinpoints heat." The witch trailed off, closing her eyes once more. He would have to work it out on his own from here, she was spent.

At her words, Severus' mind began ticking over triple time. He studied her once-again limp expression, body slumped against the dirt wall. Was it possible, what she had said? Could they make fire? He shook her awake desperately, needing more information.

"How do I do it? How do I make fire, Hermione?"

The sound of her name stirred her again and she gazed up at him.

"What do I need?"

Conjuring every ounce of life, she'd ever had and then some, she spoke again. Her voice shook and she could feel her muscles clench, cramping, and uncramping in an attempt to keep heat in her organs.

"Bark, moss. Dry things for tinder. Hold the glass over it so that the sun shines on the tinder."

That was enough for him. Any useful material was in the jungle, and that was perpetually wet. Still, he stalked through it, pulling moss from trees, and reaching for decaying leaves. Once he had a small armful of leaves, sticks and moss he strode purposefully back to the beach. He spread them out on the hot dry sand and went to collect fresh water from the little spring. When he returned, Severus woke Hermione again and forced her to drink, though she didn't manage more than a few sips.

After some hours in the sun, the moss and leaves had dried out, turning brown and crumbling in Severus' hands. He made a small pile and asked the Moirai to be kind to him, before settling his body in the sand. Apparently, they were, for it was pure coincidence that it was noon, and the sun was at its strongest. He held the glass over the debris, turning it this way and that until a small pinprick of light hit the centre of the leaves. He held it there, keeping the light concentrated on the one spot. Presently, his muscles began to ache, and he willed himself still, occluding the discomfort away. After an age, a small wisp of smoke curled up before him. Severus stayed perfectly still; sure he was hallucinating. The leaf he had been angling the glass onto now had a small black hole in its centre, orange flecks of light spreading outwards across its surface. A moment later, it went up in flames.

Once the first leaf had lit, the small pile began to burn rapidly, and Severus panicked. He fed it small sticks and ran down the beach in search of driftwood. He hadn't thought it would work and now had no fuel to feed the fire. Panic and exhilaration warred within him, relief taking over as the first bit of driftwood caught. He paced up and down the beach until he had a sizeable mound of firewood, enough to keep the fire going for a day and night. He placed the pile close, where it would dry out in the heat.

Severus turned to tell his companion, a sinking feeling swamping him when he remembered her disposition. In his excitement and concentration, he had forgotten Hermione. Heart in his throat, he peeked around the wall, relieved to see her chest rising and falling, however lightly. He gazed down at her gentle features, still soft and ladylike on her gaunt and pale face. Determination struck again and he headed toward the rockpools in search of food. Hermione had mentioned something about shellfish.

The rock pools were brimming with life, though much of it was miniscule. Small shrimp darted in and out of thick clumps of seaweed. Crabs curled up tight under rocks. Lining the edge of each pool were an array of limpets. He pulled out the knife and began plucking them from the rocks, avoiding those with bright colours. In his experience, that meant poison. Once he had a small handful, he made the repetitive trek down the bay. This time however, his small fire greeted him with a merry crackle. He sat before it and placed the limpets into the fire, shell side down. His mouth watered at the smell of them cooking and he could only wait minutes before eating one. He closed his eyes as he chewed, simultaneously breathing a soft sigh of relief. Sense took over and he left the others cooking, deciding to wait and see if there were any side effects before he or the girl ate any more.

Hermione felt herself being shaken awoke, and she forced her eyes to open. The first thing her consciousness noticed was the smell. Smoke, and the smell of something cooking. The professor was before her, with a handful of something. He was speaking to her, she realised.

"You were right. About the glass. I made a fire. We have a fire. It's warm, you'll need to sit by it soon. First, eat."

He was out of character and rambling at her, but he didn't care. She wasn't going to die on him. Shamelessly, he held a cooked limpet to her lips and gestured for her to open up. She chewed the meat cautiously and swallowed. Her stomach, having gone so long without food, protested. She ate the limpets one at a time over the course of the next hour, the professor lifting each one to her lips.

After another sleep, Hermione awoke to find it was now night. Her headache was gone and the aching in her bones had dulled once more. She gulped down half of the water bottle, which had been left by her side. Through a small gap in the makeshift wall, she could see her professor crouched down by the fire. She tried and failed to stand, instead opting to crawl out on her hands and knees to the fireside.

Severus looked over and for the first time in her presence, upon seeing the sparkle had returned to her eyes, smiled.