Out of Sight, Not Out Of Mind
Severus watched as the young woman slept, fitfully at times, twisting in her slumber with her dreams etched upon her face. What in Merlin's name was she doing here? She obviously hadn't intended to call upon him; the look of horror in her eyes had said that plainly. He didn't doubt she would have run if she could have managed it. But she hadn't. She'd folded, almost like paper, and fainted dead away.
The question really was, where had Hermione been hiding all these years. Since that day and that last battle, no one had seen her. He remembered that day vividly.
He threw a Stunner at the nearest Death-Eater, yelling with fury as more tried to overcome him. Severus Snape had played the part too long and now the acting was over. Every curse, every pain, every regret he'd born as a servant of the Dark Lord was now unleashed upon them. The world became a blur, jets of light streaming past him and screams of satisfaction and fear.
After minutes that seemed more like hours had passed, the fighting between the Order and the mere minions had ceased. Many bodies lay strewn about, most, he noted in pleasure, of Death-Eaters.
But the battle was not over yet. The long-awaited one still raged. The shadows of Lord Voldemort and The Boy Who Lived drifted over the gravestones below, both engaged in a furious duel, the beams from their wands interlocked fiercely. Harry Potter's one lifeless arm hanging at his side.
The rest of the Order stood about, holding their injuries and tending their wounds but their gazes were directed at two of the greatest wizards truest legends. His eyes flickered about the scene. Hermione Granger stood alone, her wand clasped in one hand firmly. At first he thought that she was staring at what everyone else was, and then realised she was looking at something quite different.
Members of the Ministry were advancing. Severus knew all too well that they were just a few more well placed servants from Voldemort's pocket who had been undiscovered and had helped lead the witch-hunt for any person to be remotely connected with Voldemort. Too quickly the Ministry fell and became full of suspicion. Even if you were working against You-Know-Who, that truth was twisted. The Azkaban cells were full but now the Dementors were gone, it held no fear for many.
They were well protected here tonight, he could feel the wards immediately, and no simple spell would distract them. For once, he wished Dumbledore were there. Instead, the elderly wizard lay in St. Mungos, recovering. The Headmaster would have known how to act, known how to prevent them from breaking the connection between the Dark Lord and Potter.
Miss. Granger's mind was working the same way, he knew. The former Head Girls eyes were darting between the battle and the Ministry workers. Suddenly they met his own. Decision glimmered in her pupils. She pointed her wand at her own blue robes and muttered an incantation, her voice barely more than a whisper. They Transfigured into a black, hooded cloak. He realised what she was about to do.
Hermione Disapparated before he could stop her, and reappeared on the other side of the graveyard, whipping out her wand once more. Her cry echoed hauntingly through the tombstones as she Stunned the Ministry workers before they knew what was happening. His eyes widened. Granger had been able to get past their wards? Of course, it would have been easier, being closer to them, but still…
Before they fell to the ground, Hermione began to turn, and as she did so, the hood slipped from her face. The Ministry members' faces were stained with recognition and hers with horror. She had simply meant for them to think that she was an untouched Death-Eater, not actually reveal who was under the cloak.
Neither of the two engaged in the main battle even looked away for a second but the rest of the Order had seen exactly what had happened, terrible dismay was in their eyes. They all knew what would ensue. Further Ministry members would arrive and when the Stunned ones awoke they would tell them they had found a new witch to hunt. Already they saw faint light in the distance as they Apparated to the scene.
Hermione stood alone, still clothed in the evidential robe. She gazed slowly around at the faces of the Order. Weasley began to run to her, but she began to shake her head. Everyone knew what she would have to do, whether it was for a short or a long time. At the last second, her eyes were connected with Severus's. There was no companionship, no goodbye or any promise. They had never been friends, just strangers, no matter how long they'd known each other. Later, he thought that perhaps it had been easier for her to do so, to stare desolately into cold, black eyes, rather than the ones of someone she loved.
Then she was gone.
Severus's face twisted as it often did when he remembered that day. If there had been more time, he or someone else would have stopped her. In hindsight, it was foolish for her to have done such a thing. Of course, Voldemort had been destroyed and his Death-Eaters kissed, by Dementors who had returned to them at the last minute. Only one supposed Death-Eater remained. Hermione Granger. No matter how many people came to claim her innocence, Fudge and his Ministry and insisted on finding her. A hunt had gone on for three years, only dwindling in the last two years as the enthusiasm died out.
Although he was not satisfied, Fudge decided she was too scared to reveal herself again as any witch or wizard who believed the Ministry would have wanted to kill her on sight.
Of course, the Order had tirelessly tried to find her, to hide her and keep her safe from the Ministry, but they had no luck. Dumbledore had eventually come to the conclusion that Hermione was the one who was preventing them from finding her.
But now she was here. Asleep in his own house. Severus liked to refrain from thinking that. His family would have surely never left it to him if they had known his true identity. A blood traitor, that's what he was. But it had saved him in the end.
He stood and quietly watched her for a little while longer. Once she woke, he would make her tell him where she had been. Severus was confident she wouldn't disappear again- she was too weak to make the effort. Then he would contact Dumbledore and bring her to Hogwarts. If he was correct, Madam Pomfrey could do more for her than he could in this draughty, lonely house.
He looked out of the window. The first lights of dawn were springing upon the land around. The only other residence nearby was the small farmhouse, which was cloaked with a thick blanket of snow, like the white fields around. The light made interesting patterns as it danced which he watched distractedly for a few moments, before he realised with a jolt that it was Christmas morning.
Christmas. That word had long since meant anything to him. Every winter holiday he would come to his old childhood home, but no cheerful fire burnt in the living room, no tree twinkled and there was none of the excited rustling and ripping of paper as new treasures were unwrapped with yells of joy and surprise.
It had also been the season when Sakura had died. Bitter resentment washed over him and he left the room before his mind could wander further. Christmas could pass no sooner for him.
A/N: Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. The title, 'Anam Cara' is Gaelic for 'Soul Mate', and 'Integellus et Celsus' is Latin for Pure and Proud. Sort of a Snape family motto of sorts.