Hello, readers dearest.
Another chapter so soon, I know, but I'm on break and have actually had time to write.
Great thanks to all of you who reviewed. Also, thank you to those who have put this story on your favorite list. More than 1,000 people have favorited this story and that makes me beyond thrilled. I've more to say about that at the bottom, but for now, on with the story!
Chapter 47
It burned going down her throat. Oh, it burned like nothing else she had ever experienced- only the pain of the Cruciatus Curse had been worse. In her mouth it burned, but after she swallowed all that remained was a dryness, a kind of quiet thirst.
The first goblet wasn't bad. Bill watched her warily, waiting to see if she would fall or react in anyway. "Hermione?"
"It's okay, actually," she said, giving him a weak smile. "I'm doing alright."
He nodded, but there were lines of worry on his face as she scooped up another goblet of the emerald potion. She drank this one without pausing for air, then went for the third.
The thirst was worse. When she finished the third she coughed hard, Her tongue felt dry, like it was coated in sand. Her mind felt foggy, Bill's pale face and long red hair seemed far away. She wasn't aware that she was swaying until Bill's hands on her arms steadied her.
"Hermione?" There was more than slight worry in his voice now, there was a thread of panic.
I should tell him I'm alright, Hermione thought dimly. Yes. Tell him I'm okay. "I'm- I'm fine," she said, her words slurring. "I think I need your help to finish, though."
"I don't think-" Bill began, but Hermione cut him off.
"William Weasley, you will force this potion into my unconscious mouth if necessary," Hermione said, forcing her words into crispness. "I want your word. This is bigger than me."
Bill hesitated for a moment, but finally he nodded. "Yes."
That was why I wanted him here, Hermione thought dizzily. He's the only one out of the other three who could hurt me if necessary. Good.
One of Bill's large hands cupped the back of her head, and the other held the goblet full of potion to her mouth. Obediently, even though it burned, Hermione drank.
The visions started with the fifth goblet.
The graveyard, surrounded by Death Eaters and Voldemort himself in front of her. He was oddly transparent- through him, she could see the water of the lake- but still overwhelmingly sinister.
I'm going to kill him, Hermione Granger, and there is nothing you can do.
"Take me instead," she moaned. "Please take me."
"Drink," said Bill. She drank.
Crucio.
Hermione could hear her scream echoing through the chamber. Her throat rasped with dryness, she ached for a drink of water, a drop of water, anything to stop the burning.
"Stop, please, stop!" she screamed.
"This will make it stop," Bill promised her. "Drink, Hermione." She drank.
"Don't kill Harry, no, don't, please, take me. I'll go instead, don't take him, don't hurt him," she said, she knew she was babbling and that the ghostly figure of Voldemort didn't care about what she thought. Hermione thrashed, her hands clawing at the air and at Bill's face, but when he pressed the cup to her lips she drank. The burning was starting to be preferable to the thirst, the terrible thirst.
"Water," she croaked. "Please, Bill, give me water."
She saw his face clearly, without the ghostly figures in front of it. It was an odd contrast, the handsome youth and the terrible blankness on his face. "You need to drink the potion, Hermione." She drank.
Her insides were burning, her lungs were burning, her skin was burning. She wanted it all off. She wanted water. She wanted it to end. She had a choice though- there was the sanctity of her own mind, there was peace behind her walls, or there was her body. Hermione sank into her mind, only half aware of drinking more of the potion.
Severus was in front of her, his face harsh.
I was using you, you stupid girl. Why would you think I loved you?
"Because I love you," Hermione said aloud, relaxing for a moment against Bill. She didn't see the surprise on his face "Please don't leave me!"
Stupid girl. I never loved you. I whispered everything you told me in the ear of the Dark Lord, and-
I hate you, Severus Snape. Leave me.
As you wish.
"No!" she shouted. "No!" The goblet was pressed to her mouth and she drank again.
Her mind wasn't the best place to be, she decided. Severus was there, and she didn't feel like facing him just then.
Back to her body she would go, then. Back to the burning and the thirst.
The goblet was scraping the bottom of the basin with each pass. Bill had never thought that the sound of cup against basin would be like music to his ears, but it was. The girl in his arms was shaking with sobs now, whimpering, begging him to stop.
"I can't, Hermione, I'm sorry," he told her, holding her head up. "Drink now, we're almost done."
Her eyes were large and wet with tears, but she still drank. "Please don't leave me," she begged him, gasping after having drained the goblet. "I don't like the person I am without you!"
Bill simply scraped the bottom of the basin again and held the goblet back up to her lips. She drank until it was empty then pulled away. "No more," she whimpered. "No more, no more. Water!"
"I can't," Bill told her, his voice cracking. "No water yet, Hermione."
"But it burns," she croaked. "It burns, it burns, it hurts, make it stop!"
He was in the midst of giving her another goblet when a silvery form bounded across the water to them. The form was large and hairy, but other than that Bill could not tell what kind of animal it was. Tonks' voice came from the Patronus. "Viktor is back. Cedric's doing fine. What's happening?"
"Expecto Patronum," cast Bill, wincing as he felt his strength leech into the spell. "Hermione drinking dangerous potion, send message for Snape to meet us. Almost have Horcrux."
Hermione clutched his arm as his Patronus ran across the waves. "Snape?" she asked.
"Yeah, Snape will help us," Bill told her, reassuring her. "Don't worry about it."
"No, no, the Dark Lord will find out, you have to keep him safe," Hermione said, head turning wildly. "No, Bill, you don't understand we have to keep Severus safe that's all that matters him and Harry need to be safe, it's our key to winning the war we need the Savior and the Spy-"
"He'll be safe," Bill said, holding the goblet up to her lips. "You need to drink now, Hermione."
"No, I need to get back, I need to make sure Severus is safe-"
Bill winced as her fingers dug claw-like into his arm. "Drinking this will keep him safe, Hermione," he told her.
Her eyes turned up to his, wide with hope and wet with pain. "Drinking it will keep him safe?"
"Yes," Bill lied. "Drink."
She gulped the potion down even as tears ran down her cheeks from the pain. There was one goblet left- just one and he could see something metallic glinting at the bottom of the basin.
"Last one, Hermione!" he crowed. "C'mon, just this last one!"
"Kill me now," Hermione moaned. "I can't do it, Bill, just let me die, it'll be okay-"
Bill blanched, but held the potion to her mouth. "Just drink it, Hermione, please."
She pressed it to her mouth and drank. As soon as she was done, Bill scraped the bottom of the basin with his hand and got the Horcrux. He held it up to the greenish light, examining it carefully. It was heavy and gold, with a serpent made of emeralds in the shape of an S on the front of the locket. He dropped it into a dragon hide pouch specially reinforced for the Horcrux and sealed it shut.
"We got it," he told the girl on the ground, collapsing next to her. "We got it, Hermione." He took the goblet from her, and filled it to the brim with water from a spell. "Here's some water."
But as soon as the goblet touched her lips, the water vanished. "No," Hermione whimpered. "Bill, I need water-"
"I think that the only source of water it will let you drink is the kind with dead bodies in it," Bill said darkly. Still, futilely, he tried shooting water into her mouth from his wand, conjuring a new goblet, and using a different water spell.
"It's not going to work," he said grimly. "Let's head back. We'll get you water when we get back to Headquarters, Hermione."
"Water," was all she said. "Get me water, please, Bill, I just need water and I'll be okay-"
Bill hoisted her into his arms. "Not yet, Hermione," he said gently. "Not yet. You're part is done, we'll take you home."
There were some black spots on his vision when he stood with her. His body was trying to draw on his magic, only to find nothing there. It had gotten this bad before- that had been an eventful day in Egypt- and it had also been worse.
When he stepped onto the boat, it creaked malignantly, but held. Slowly, achingly, it began to cross the lake to the distant shore where Bill could vaguely make out the figures of Tonks and Viktor.
"Almost there, Hermione," he said.
"Water," she begged, thrashing in his arms. "I need water!"
"Whoa-" She was fighting him, trying to reach over the side of the boat for the choppy black water. "Stop- Hermione, stop! I can't Stun you because I don't know how the magics would interact, so you need to stop fighting me!"
Her struggling died down long enough for him to grab both of her delicate wrists in one hand, holding them tightly enough that she couldn't move. He was half sitting on her, and still she was fighting to get to the water.
"Can this damn boat go any faster?" he muttered to himself. "Stop fighting, God damn it!"
When she tried to yank out of his grasp again, he felt something in her wrist pop. She let out a yell, going mercifully still.
"It's broken, I think," Bill said, a tinge of regret in his voice. "Sorry. Now will you stop fighting/"
"I need water," she whispered. "Bill, it's burning!"
Bill just held her tighter, wincing as she made a small noise of pain. "I can't have you leaping into Inferi infested water, Hermione, but we're almost there."
It seemed an eternity before the bottom of the boat scraped the shore. As quick as he could, Bill threw Hermione over his shoulder and jumped out of the boat. Viktor and Tonks rushed over, wands drawn.
"What happened?" Tonks asked, taking in Hermione's condition with a worried eye. "What kind of potion did she drink? Snape's sent at least three Patronuses bugging us for information about it. What- why are you holding her like that?"
"She wants water and the only water it appears she can drink in this cave is from that," Bill said, indicating the lake with a jerk of his head. "Viktor, can you take her? Careful- I think I broke her wrist."
The transfer of a still struggling Hermione did not go as smoothly as they would have wished. Still, in a matter of minutes she was firmly in Viktor's grasp and Bill was relating information about the potion to Tonks so that she could send the Potions Master a Patronus with information about it.
"Let's go," Bill said, gesturing to the entrance of the cave. "We'll make it out just before the tide starts coming in."
The foyer of Number 12 Grimmauld Place appeared to be larger than it was, thanks to an ancient Black ancestor who had been good with the use of deceptive magics and the placement of decorative mirrors. With ten people in it, the space could still feel welcoming and not yet over crowded.
And yet, when the foyer of Number 12 Grimmauld Place held a far-too-placidly calm Albus Dumbledore and a very still and very angry Severus Snape, it seemed like the air was far too still and the mirrors made the room claustrophobic.
The Healer who had come to tend to Cedric Diggory had ducked her head into the foyer, then ducked back out just as quickly, reasoning that until there was a good reason to leave her patient's side (ignoring the fact that Cedric Diggory was already nearly restored to perfect health) she would stay at her patient's side.
Molly Weasley, eagerly waiting for the return of her son, was in the kitchen. There was the makings of a full tea in progress, her own way of keeping watch. She too had peeked into the foyer, and retreated back to a safer space.
Dumbledore sat on the steps, sucking at a lemon drop. There was no serene smile on his lips, no twinkle in his eye. What was present on the old man's face and in his demeanor was almost perfectly covered up anticipation. Severus could feel it coming off of him, the desire to see if he had been right.
Severus himself was standing off to the side of the room, as far away as he could get from Dumbledore and still be facing the door. He stood still, eerily still, tension in every line of his body. His dark eyes were trained on the door, his ears were straining for the tell-tale pops of Apparition, his arms were hanging (far from loosely) at his sides. His wand was clenched in one fist.
The only sound in the room was his quiet breathing and the squelching sounds of Dumbledore turning the sour candy around in his mouth.
Finally, finally, finally it came- the sound of space splitting open for a brief sliver of time and depositing heavy bodies onto the stoop with a twin series of heavy thuds. The ears of the spy in the house quickly interpreted the noise as two Side-Along Apparitions- two people were injured or drained enough to have to be Side-Alonged and the second thud had been too heavy for just one person, which meant that one person- Hermione, he knew- was being carried.
The door swung open and Tonks and Bill staggered in first, followed by Viktor, holding a quietly moaning Hermione in his arms. Severus sprang into action, taking the woman's body from Viktor and starting immediately up the stairs, where a bedroom had already been prepared.
"Please tell me that one of you three took care to get a sample of the potion," he snapped, taking the stairs two at a time. "I need to figure out what it was before I can start brewing an antidote."
"Did you get it? Did you find it?" Dumbledore's questions rose above his.
Severus turned on the stairs. "Stop for one minute, old man," he snarled. "She might die- let's take care of that first before you natter on about your precious mission!" Pinning Bill with his eyes, Severus glared down. "Did one of you take some of the potion with you?" He enunciated carefully, trying vainly to keep his temper in check.
There was uneasy silence behind him. There was anger and incredulity in his voice when he said, "None of you?"
"I was the only one on the lake with her," Bill said tiredly. He was swaying on his feet. At the sound of his voice, the kitchen door burst open and Molly came out, hugging him immediately. Bill swayed, one arm around his mother. "It wouldn't let us take it. It was spelled."
"Fucking bastard," Severus swore. "What did it look like? What did it smell like? What- the fuck?" A small hand had snaked up his neck, holding the back of his head.
Hermione's pleading eyes implored him, even as she held the back of his hair tightly. "Please, Severus, get me water, please, please-"
It hit him then, the feeling of her weight in his arms, the heavy realness of her, of human contact. Hermione Granger in his arms once more, an alien sensation. Her skin was soft and she was there and he could smell her and an odd scent, like death and mold and peppermint.
"She just wants water," Bill said, shushing his mother. "Just a minute, Ma! The potion was green, bright green, and it glowed. It didn't have a strong smell- um- maybe minty? The whole cavern smelled weird."
Severus wrenched his attention away from Hermione and back to Bill. Still, she pleaded with him. "Why haven't you given her water yet?"
"It stopped me every time I tried," said Bill. "At first she did fine and could drink it on her own, but then she said it started burning, and then there were hallucinations and she- she begged for water."
His mind was racing- what was this potion?
19 possibilities that are bright, glowing green. 248 potions that cause intense thirst, but only 129 of those cause hallucinations too. Of those 129, only six are bright, glowing green. The Elixir of Hamm'uh has a pungent grass smell- not mint. Five. Reamne's Draft causes the skin of the mouth to turn purple-
"Open your mouth," he barked at Hermione. She obeyed, and he looked inside, then smelled her breath. Not purple, definitely a minty smell but also mold and decay. Four, then.
The Potion of Small Death causes hallucinations after three cups and death after six- "Bill, how much did she drink?"
The man indicated the size of the basin with his hands. "About this much?"
Not the Potion of Small Death, then. Three. The Draught of Despair has a minty smell, yes, but not one of death and fungus- unless it's been sitting there for years and was left to ferment. If she had specific despair- inducing hallucinations, that might be it!
"I think I know what it is," he said tersely. "Albus, I'll need someone to buy a pure gold cauldron and a straining sheet made of fresh goat's skin. I have the initial supplies I need here, but for the second and fourth stages respectively I need the other things-"
"Right away," Dumbledore said gravely.
Severus glared at him. "Make sure the goat was pure black or pure white," he said quickly.
"Yes, yes," Dumbledore agreed, but his attention had already returned to Bill, Tonks, and Viktor. "Did you get it?"
Bill dug in his pocket, and tossed a nondescript leather pouch to Dumbledore. "There it is," he said. "We-"
Severus didn't catch the rest- he was bounding up the stairs three at a time, getting Hermione to safety.
The pain and the thirst were horrible. Hermione remembered going on a hike with her parents on some holiday when she was a child, and hating every minute because she was hot and tired and most of all thirsty. Her father had forgotten the water bottles and her mother was angry at him and yet they kept going and going and going. She had cried, her mother had yelled, and her father had carried her the rest of the way despite the fact that she was much too big for such treatment. Then they had reached town her thirst was alleviated and the day had been almost forgotten.
Her thirst now was worse.
The only way she could make the thirst go away was to retreat into the dark part of her mind, the part with glowing red eyes and grass dotted with crooked gravestones and the cold gray eyes of a man who had once loved her but no longer did. That part of her mind was painful, but it was her body or her mind and she could only focus on one of them at a time.
She had felt some things, like her wrist breaking, like being passed from Bill to Viktor. Then she had been concentrating on her thirst, and she was acutely present in her body. The Apparition was painful, squeezing, and she had retreated to her mind to avoid the pain.
In her mind, Severus was holding her, his strong eyes were around her, and the worst part was that she knew that soon it would be over and he would look at her with those grey eyes that looked black as coal when he was angry and he would tell her that he hated her, that she was nothing compared to Lily. That she could only feel the solidness of his chest in hallucinations- for she was lucid enough to know that everything was naught but dreams even in the dreams themselves- made her despair. She knew her body was begging for water, that it was moving.
"Open your eyes, Hermione." It was his voice, commanding her. But her eyes were open? Oh- just in the dream they were open, not her body. But why was his voice in her real ears? Before she could sort through everything, gentle fingers were prying open her eyelids and she was looking into worried grey eyes, Severus' eyes, and his mind was in hers, seeing what she saw.
He pulled her back in her memories until she was standing in the cave, drinking the first sips of the potion. The only thought running through her head was, now that he doesn't care anymore no one will really mourn me when I'm dead...
Then she was hallucinated, seeing the Dark Lord and Severus himself, and then he was pulling out of her mind.
Hermione sank into her mind again, trying to get rid of the thirst. She didn't want to talk to him, to beg him for anything.
When Severus brewed, his mind seemed to leave his body and go to a separate plane, connected by a thin thread that told his hands what to do. It was a kind of Occlumency, certainly, a kind he had done since he was a schoolboy and a kind which certainly had influenced his talent in the mind arts later in life. Things became clearer as he brewed, even difficult potions where one would have thought that every fiber of his mind was concentrated on chopping ingredients or counting stirs or slowly pouring magic into the cauldron.
That crystal clear concentration and not concentration wasn't interrupted when Dumbledore returned with the materials he had asked for, or when a worried Healer came and examined Hermione.
"Why is she unconscious?" the woman asked.
"Because it's kinder than being awake at the moment," Severus had snapped. "Leave."
The Healer left.
He was taking a quick break, wiping his forehead of sweat when there was another knock on the door. "Enter," he snapped tersely.
To his surprise, Tonks poked her head in. "Hello, Professor Snape," she said, her eyes on the girl on the bed and not on the Potions Master. "I have something of hers, if you don't mind."
Severus frowned. "Can't it wait-"
"I don't think so," Tonks interrupted, looking at him. "It has some of her magic in it- don't you think she could use it?" Severus could see that she was holding a slender silver chain- on which hung a pearl. He swallowed hard.
"I'll take that, Miss Tonks," he said gruffly. "It would help." Brusquely he thrust a hand out, waiting for her to place the necklace in his palm.
The Auror hesitated, but when it was evident that Severus would not relent, she reluctantly poured the thin necklace into his hand. "Thank you, Professor."
"Off with you, Miss Tonks," he said roughly, nodding at the door before turning his back on the Auror and striding to Hermione. "I must continue my work."
He was aware of the woman watching as he carefully clasped the necklace around Hermione's neck, ensuring that the pearl sat in the hollow of her throat. However, when he looked back at the doorway, she was gone and he was left in peace to brew once again.
Dumbledore entered the room again close to his tenth hour of brewing. The base potion was done, and the delicate fourth step was simmering in the gold cauldron he was stirring every thirteen and a half seconds like clockwork. "Will she be alright, Severus?"
"Maybe," Severus said coldly. "If not, it's on your head. And you're the one who gets to tell Potter."
Dumbledore gazed at the girl lying prone in Severus' bed. "We should move her," he said. There was a calculating light in his eyes as he said, "I wouldn't want to put you in temptation's path, Severus."
"No, we shouldn't, move her" he snapped, an urgent defensive need to keep her near him rising in his chest like fire. "I need to monitor her condition and brew at the same time, which won't happen if we're in two different rooms. As my makeshift Potions lab is here, we can't move her. And you don't need to worry yourself about me in harm's way- you didn't bother when a werewolf was the aggressor, so don't pretend a teenaged girl concerns you so deeply."
The Headmaster, much to Severus' distaste, moved farther into the Potion Master's room. His gaze was still fixed on the girl in the bed. "It must bother you to have her here," the old man said at last. "Intruding into your private quarters."
"She's tolerable," Severus said, pushing down a wave of suspicion. "It doesn't bother me much."
"She looks so young like this," Dumbledore remarked softly. "It makes me wonder if we did the right thing, recruiting her, Severus."
Severus gave his boss an incredulous stare. "Now's a little late for that," he snarled.
Those bright blue eyes were turned on him. "You grew too close to her, Severus," he said quietly. "I did what I had to do. You know that. But did she ever say anything to you?"
"She wished she had been normal more than once," Severus said, refusing to look away from the headmaster's eyes. "But she recognizes why it had to happen. She's a smart woman."
Dumbledore looked away first, walking to the door. "Carry on, Severus. Send me word when you are finished." He swept out, leaving Severus alone with Hermione again.
Gods, it hurt to look at her face. It seemed as if she was just sleeping, but he had watched her sleep enough to know that this silent unconsciousness wasn't what she looked like at all when truly sleeping. When Hermione Granger slept, she slept wrapped around someone or something, either his body or a pillow. She made small soft whuffling sounds, not quite a snore and not quite anything else either. She didn't lay unnaturally still, on her back, with her hands limp at her sides, the red nail polish on her fingers slightly chipped.
Severus turned back to his potion. The pain in his chest didn't go away.
Albus Dumbledore sank into his chair and, with trembling hands, withdrew the dragon skin pouch Bill had given him from a pocket in his robe.
As soon as it was open he could feel the malevolent energy from the necklace. The glimmer of gold at the bottom of the pouch was teasingly dull. Its weight and the dull shimmer and the clank as it fell onto his desk told him that it was real gold, and the tiny emeralds in a serpentine S told Dumbledore that it was Slytherin's locket. Most of all, the dark whispers of Tom Riddle's magic told him it was a Horcrux.
Triumph lit upon the face of Albus Dumbledore. The sweet taste of success filled his mouth, and his heart fluttered against his ribs. One more in my grasp, Dumbledore thought. One more.
Smiling and humming softly, Dumbledore put the locket back in the pouch, and tucked in into his desk. He knew exactly how he wanted to destroy it, but he wanted Severus at the Dark Lord's side when he did. If the Dark Lord could feel them being destroyed, they would have to be even more careful with the others they would find. And they would find others- he had the fullest confidence in Hermione Granger.
If she recovered.
But she would, of course. He also had the fullest confidence in Severus Snape.
Not everyone did though. It seemed like every week Mad-Eye Moody or Molly Weasley was in his office complaining about Snape. At least since Snape and Granger had distanced themselves from each other, she was left out of the tirades he heard against the Potions Master and Death Eater.
His loyalties were constantly doubted, his influence condemned, his motives questioned. It wasn't as if the Headmaster minded that his Order distrusted their spy- on the contrary, if the distrust hadn't been there he would have found a way to spark it beyond what he already did- he minded that it was affecting the bodyguard he had chosen for Harry Potter.
See, as far as the Headmaster was concerned, the Order of the Phoenix needed a healthy distrust of Severus Snape for a number of reasons. Some of them were for the spy's own benefit- it would be disastrous for Snape's position in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle if it was revealed that the Order held too much trust for their spy. But it was also for less noble reasons. Keeping Snape alienated meant that the only person showing him any sort of care was Dumbledore himself. There had been a few worrying moments in the early days when it looked like Molly Weasley's mothering instinct might be strong enough to overcome Death Eater status, but a quick conversation about the deaths of Fabian and Gideon had put those stirrings to rest. It also meant that the only hope that Severus had for exoneration after the war came from the Headmaster- the others wouldn't speak up for him. Now Severus had a vested interest in keeping Dumbledore alive. Being alone also meant that he had no reason not to risk his life every day, something that Dumbledore was adamant not be disturbed.
However, Hermione Granger needed to be the golden girl. Her narrative had to read as a selfless girl who had given up her childhood for her friend, because she believed so strongly in him. She was smart, good with a wand, and above all clever enough to keep him safe. Seeing the brotherly love that Harry had for Hermione had gone a long way in making the Order trust her more than when she had seemed to be Severus' little protégée. Some of the Order had been scared of her- stories of her killing Death Eaters in cold blood had circulated, seeing the easy way she held herself and stood up to Severus, the way the man listened to her… no, it hadn't been good for his purposes.
It annoyed him to no end how she had somehow managed to worm her way up to a position of real power in the Order. He had never intended for her to be so entrenched in the day-to-day operations of the spy network, the vetting process, the dirty work. He had started by trying to overwhelm her with boring paperwork, trying to make her too busy to spend too much time with others. The Time Turner had helped with her alienation from her peers. Her one goal, the one person whom she had to talk to was supposed to be Harry. He hadn't reckoned on the prickly Potions Master forming any kind of bond with the girl. But somehow she had turned out to be very good at paperwork, the way she was very good at every other bloody thing she set her mind to. And then Severus had shared information with her in passing and again and again she had connected different pieces brilliantly until it was unthinkable for her not to handle all the reports coming in. She had the kind of mind that could process and remember in the information and draw the conclusions few other could manage. Hermione Granger became invaluable to the Order, and he had not foreseen it, but he had taken advantage of it.
But it was better for the two to be estranged. Severus would continue to put his life in danger every day and Hermione would continue to serve the Order. If she survived, of course.
Hermione had been in his magically induced coma for two and a half days. It was a long time- he had watched as her eyes seemed to sink into her skull and her skin dried out, despite the stasis charms in the spell for the coma. When he lifted her so that he could make her drink, the bones of her spine were hard against his arms. She was so dehydrated that her skin felt papery and her lips were cracked and her breathing rasped in her dry throat.
Severus tilted the potion into her mouth, feeling his exhaustion in his own trembling hands. He had been awake for these past two days, and the weariness was seeping into his thoughts and his body, manifesting in dry eyes and hands that refused to stay still when not making potions. There his discipline had entered, his muscles remembering what to do as his mind turned itself inside out with worry over Hermione and his own fear.
A fair portion of his potions skills had gone into the milky liquid he was pouring down her throat. Theories he hadn't used since earning his mastery had been dredged up from neatly stored lessons, techniques that he had only performed a handful of times had been executed with only a moment of hesitation. It was for her, all of it was for her.
The last bit remaining in the cup he saved, setting it on his bedside table, on top of the book he had been reading the last time he had stayed in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. His right hand steadied somewhat when he raised his wand, but his tremors simply intensified in his left.
Nothing immediately happened when he released her from the coma. Her breathing stuttered briefly when the charms that had taken that function over had dissipated, but that was the only discernible sign. Slowly, Severus reached out to take her wrist. To take her pulse, he told himself. He felt the fluttery beat against his fingertips, eyes closing as he counted.
Closing his eyes had not been the best of ideas; he felt the weariness dragging him down and making him reluctant to pry his eyes open once more.
A slight stirring and the feeling of fingers closing hesitantly over the hand that was over her pulse jerked him back into wakefulness. Hermione's eyes were still closed, but she was frowning. Under his fingers, he could feel her pulse speed up.
"Hermione," he called gently. "Wake up."
Slowly her eyes flickered open. They were still distant as she examined him, the frown never leaving. "Why am I still dreaming you?" she asked, her voice rasping. "Why won't you let me be?"
Her hand was gripping him tighter now, and her breathing was coming hard. If she hadn't been so dehydrated, Severus suspected that she would have been crying. "It isn't a dream," he said patiently. He pulled his hand from hers, reaching for a glass of water. "Drink."
Hermione downed three glasses of water before Severus made her stop. By the time she finished the third, she was sitting up on her own.
"I feel as weak as a kitten," she murmured. "I remember most of it, although I'm not sure if it was real or dreams. I thought I would die."
Severus noticed that she was refusing to look at him. "You've been in a coma- I induced it- for more than two days," he said finally. "But there wasn't a chance of my letting you die." He half regretted the words the second they left his mouth to linger in the air.
Her eyes closed suddenly, and Severus knew that if there had been enough moisture in her body, some would have been leaking out in the form of tears. "Stop."
He scowled darkly at her. "You mistake competence for affection." Her would-be tears sparked something dark and ugly inside of him, the beast that roared at him every night that he was a monster who had hurt the only thing he had ever cared for.
"I didn't," Hermione said simply, opening her eyes and drawing in a shuddering breath. She turned her head fractionally to look at him. "I know very well that you're telling yourself that you hold no affection for me anymore." Her voice was dreamy, but still hurt.
Something tugged hard under his chest, a feeling like a vase falling off a shelf. He closed his own eyes and inhaled sharply through his large nostrils. "I never meant to hurt you, Hermione." He waited, then forged ahead. "I never wanted you to find yourself in a cave thinking that you could sacrifice yourself for the group because there was no one who cared. Tonks would miss you, Dumbledore would regret your death, Potter and Weasley would go ballistic. And I would mourn you. Just because we aren't lovers doesn't mean that I don't care about you."
"You were in my mind," Hermione said, but surprisingly there was no note of accusation in her voice, just deduction. "I'm assuming you had a good reason?'
"Diagnosis," Severus replied guardedly. "I didn't see much. I just needed to see what you had consumed." He scowled at her for a moment. "And don't jump down my throat- I was saving you at Dumbledore's request."
He saw the change in her face as if time had slowed dramatically. Something crumpled in her features, still half asleep. "I wasn't going to." She reached out a hand to caress his face, unaware of what her own body was doing. "Did I really hurt you that badly, Severus?"
What is she talking about? Severus reached up, taking her hand away from his prickly cheek. "I thought I was the one who had hurt you."
She shook her head. "No. I saw it in the dreams, the dreams from that potion-"
"The Draught of Despair," interrupted Severus. "It makes you see the things you hate and fear the most." Like myself, he added silently.
Hermione frowned at him. Neither of them noticed that he had not relinquished her wrist. "I saw the Dark Lord, I saw the graveyard, I was hunted in the Department of Mysteries, I saw you and I played out a hundred times..."
Brusquely, Severus released her hand and stood. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you," he said, sneering because he had no other way to talk. "But considering I saved your life, I feel my debt is paid."
"No, Severus, wait!" Hermione cried, as best as she was able, reaching out to grab his sleeve. "You aren't listening to me, goddamn it!"
He stared down at her, then removed his sleeve from her grasp. He did, however, step closer to the bed. "And what am I not listening to, Miss Granger?"
Hermione pushed aside the bed covers, swinging her legs over the side and pushing herself to her feet with a groan. Although she swayed, for the moment, she was steady. "I figured it out," she told him, panting from the effort of standing "Yes, I saw you leaving me, but most of all I saw myself driving you away, being cruel to you, being hurt and refusing to bend."
"I don't understand," Severus growled. "It was me, I ended it."
"I know that," Hermione snapped back. "But instead of trying to prove to you how much I love you, I've been refusing to show you how much I'm hurting by pretending I'm not."
She was breathing hard from the exertion, wavering unsteadily on her feet. Automatically, Severus held out an arm to steady her, and she grasped it.
"I'm not going to give up," Hermione said earnestly. "You can try to drive me away all you want, Severus, but I'm not going to try to drive you away because that is what I am most afraid of."
There was silence and panting and then a knock at the door.
Molly Weasley entered, expression almost jubilant. "I heard voices, Severus, and I knew you had done it." She beamed at Hermione. "By Merlin, I can't believe you're standing already. Should she be standing, Severus?"
Severus scowled at the woman. "No." He gently pushed Hermione back onto the bed. "I'll leave Molly with the rest of your potions regimen. Follow my guidelines to their exact specifications. I'm off to rest, and I'll check on you in the morning. As you are currently in my bed," he gave a particularly viscous scowl- "I am going to Spinner's End."
With his tired head full of cotton and his thoughts in turmoil, Severus Snape did the only thing he could think to do: sweep out of the room as quickly as possible.
So ends Chapter 47.
I realized I forgot to do an excerpt last chapter, so I'll do it now before I forget:
She padded over to her usual chair and took a seat without taking her eyes from the locket. "That's it, then," she said in a low voice. "Is it a Horcrux?"
Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses. "You tell me."
Other matters. My new story is up! Please go read an review Part of Forever, I need inspiration. Also, Tea and Glory has been translated into Spanish, which is really cool. And the fan art links are now working so you should check those out. Also, if you are Russian or if you are more comfortable reading in Russian than in English, this story is currently being translated into Russian! Links all on my author's page.
Also... we are really, really close to 2,000 reviews. Right now (Thursday night for me) we stand at 1,901 reviews. There are more than five thousand of you who read every chapter. Please, please please can we get to 2,000 with this chapter? I never thought anything I wrote would make it to fifty let alone 2,000 reviews, and we are right at the brink. Remember, there will be a reward for the 2,000th reviewer... and if you want that story to happen quickly, I need to get the prompt while I'm still on summer break.
I go back to school in about a month, and I'm quite excited. Being at home has worn thin. I'm writing up my study from Malta, and that's taking forever, but that's okay. I need to get more motivated to work on it. I'm having such a hard time with self discipline lately. Normally I can make myself do any kind of work I don't particularly feel like doing, but something about being home for the summer just makes all my self control fly right out the window. Also, it's hard after a year's worth of freedom at school and nine weeks of solo international travel to be subject to my father's parenting style... which is heavily influenced by both his Asian principles and the 20 years he spent in the military.
Well, to motivate myself to write for this story, I'm setting a tentative update date for August 14th... which is subject to change if we get to 2,000 reviews I might just update then and there out of pure joy. ;) And To motivate you to review... just so you know, I just finished writing the scene where our two young lovers finally get their heads on straight again.
Review, please, and see you soon!