One Young Heart
Chapter 5: Not Good
Hermione froze in shock and tried to get her head around the fact that her potions master, hardly the weak or fluffy type, was bleeding unconscious on the floor. "Prof- Professor, are you okay?" When he didn't move, she sat hard on the floor and thought everything out.
If Professor Snape was injured, then presumably he had just run into Voldemort. That suggested that he didn't particularly want Madame Pomfrey to find him. And this classroom would be filled with students in two hours. Okay, that left one terrified teenage girl who had no idea where he lived or what was wrong with him.
Not being one to sit and think about a problem overlong, Hermione staggered back to her feet and looked through the passage in which he lay. Carefully, she stepped around him, lit her wand, and began to explore.
---
Life was a bit fuzzy for Severus at the moment. Wherever he happened to be just now, it was hard, cold and definitely not bed. That was bad. It indicated a failure to remain conscious that annoyed him in the extreme. It was also rather noisy. His brain tried to process the sound- "Proffffff-" he couldn't understand. Fine, then, he thought hazily, if I sit still, it will all just go away. Assuming that I'm sitting right now, of course.
---
Hermione slipped carefully down the rough stairs, and gasped as she entered the main room of what its maker called 'The Castle' Tiled surfaces reflected the light of her wand onto thousands of books, more books than she had ever seen before. Silver ladders leaned on dusty oak bookcases, and a cherry table in the center of the room was piled high with the books and papers that normally inhabited Snape's desk. Continuing on, she found a hallway. room one sparkled with glass vials, but room two was a study of some kind, with a large couch. Turning, she fled back hastily to Snape, lifted him with a charm, and deposited him on the couch. Looking carefully at him, she found the wound was on his head, and cast a careful healing spell, fighting the urge to panic on sight of blood.
Okay, good time to be leaving now, Hermes, don't want to get caught here, her mind said. Turning around, her hand still resting on the couch arm, she raised her head. And was staring straight into the eyes of a tremendous gray cat. She barely had the time to panic before she felt Snape grab her arm tightly, waking at the cat's hiss.
Usually a pragmatic girl, all she could think in that moment, trapped between two evils, was "Not good. Not at all good."
Chapter 5: Not Good
Hermione froze in shock and tried to get her head around the fact that her potions master, hardly the weak or fluffy type, was bleeding unconscious on the floor. "Prof- Professor, are you okay?" When he didn't move, she sat hard on the floor and thought everything out.
If Professor Snape was injured, then presumably he had just run into Voldemort. That suggested that he didn't particularly want Madame Pomfrey to find him. And this classroom would be filled with students in two hours. Okay, that left one terrified teenage girl who had no idea where he lived or what was wrong with him.
Not being one to sit and think about a problem overlong, Hermione staggered back to her feet and looked through the passage in which he lay. Carefully, she stepped around him, lit her wand, and began to explore.
---
Life was a bit fuzzy for Severus at the moment. Wherever he happened to be just now, it was hard, cold and definitely not bed. That was bad. It indicated a failure to remain conscious that annoyed him in the extreme. It was also rather noisy. His brain tried to process the sound- "Proffffff-" he couldn't understand. Fine, then, he thought hazily, if I sit still, it will all just go away. Assuming that I'm sitting right now, of course.
---
Hermione slipped carefully down the rough stairs, and gasped as she entered the main room of what its maker called 'The Castle' Tiled surfaces reflected the light of her wand onto thousands of books, more books than she had ever seen before. Silver ladders leaned on dusty oak bookcases, and a cherry table in the center of the room was piled high with the books and papers that normally inhabited Snape's desk. Continuing on, she found a hallway. room one sparkled with glass vials, but room two was a study of some kind, with a large couch. Turning, she fled back hastily to Snape, lifted him with a charm, and deposited him on the couch. Looking carefully at him, she found the wound was on his head, and cast a careful healing spell, fighting the urge to panic on sight of blood.
Okay, good time to be leaving now, Hermes, don't want to get caught here, her mind said. Turning around, her hand still resting on the couch arm, she raised her head. And was staring straight into the eyes of a tremendous gray cat. She barely had the time to panic before she felt Snape grab her arm tightly, waking at the cat's hiss.
Usually a pragmatic girl, all she could think in that moment, trapped between two evils, was "Not good. Not at all good."