Hello all this is my very first attempt at a fic, so please read and review. If I get enough feed back I will keep posting
This is a Hermione/Snape fic, and there is also a Harry/Draco pairing but as they are in a coma it will only be referred to and not really an active relationship. If you are offended by either of these pairings, this story is not for you.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is Queen of the Muggles and owns all the characters, places, and pretty much everything but the plot and title.
Prelude
Hermione Granger sat at the check-in desk on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, twirling a curl that had fallen out of her sloppy bun around her index finger and attempting to read. With an exasperated sigh, she shut the book and rested her chin in her hands. Hermione knew that life as a mediwitch wouldn't be the most exciting; on the contrary, in her line of work excitement meant injuries and upset family members. However, she almost would have preferred having a patient to treat rather than working the graveyard shift on the least "exciting" floor of the hospital.
At 20, Hermione was the youngest mediwitch ever to work at St. Mungo's, yet despite her accomplishments, or possibly in spite of them, her colleagues were determined to put her through a sort of "hazing" that included the worst shifts, most menial patients, and most obnoxious family members. Regardless, of her frustration Hermione accepted every assignment without complaint, completing each one to superior standards. Finally, after working for five months she was slowing gaining the confidence and respect of her peers, even if they did still insist on giving her the graveyard shift. With another sigh, she closed her eyes and reflected back on how she had gotten to where she was today.
It was three years earlier. She was sitting on a stage between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. She was trying not to fiddle with her graduation robes as she ran over her valedictorian/head girl speech in her head. Thank goodness they aren't making me do two speeches, she thought taking a deep breath and clasping her hands together to stop their shaking. Harry reached over and put a steadying hand onto of hers. "Don't worry," he whispered green eyes sparkling behind his black frames, "Everyone is so excited about finally graduating that they won't even notice your speech." Shooting him a look of amused disdain she whispered back, "Thanks Harry, I feel loads better...and besides what do you know your just up hear to accept an award." "Would you two just shut it already?" hissed Malfoy, "I have a Head Boy speech to deliver in a few moments." Hermione allowed herself a quick glare at the arrogant blond Slytherin beside her before returning to her nervous fiddling. "Hermione," Harry whispered, this time in all earnest, "You have nothing to worry about, everything will be fi..." His sentence was cut off by a loud explosion.
The next couple of minuets would always remain a blur in Hermione's memory. There was yelling and chaos everywhere as students, professors, and guests tried to flea or fight the advancing group of Death Eaters that surrounded their Dark Lord. She had remained shell shocked until she had been pulled out of her chair and off the stage by Professor Snape. "Foolish girl," he growled, "get out your wand and do something, unless you'd rather serve as target practice." Then as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, robe billowing as a steady stream of hexes and curses flew from his wand. Hermione knew she had to do something, but her mind seemed frozen, except for one thing that kept playing over and over in her head like a broken record. You can't apparate on to Hogwart's; it says so in Hogwart's: A History. So she stood there, as if she had once again been petrified by the basilisk, and watched as Voldemort slowly advanced to the stage, where only Harry, Malfoy, and Professor Dumbledore remained.
Like a statue she watched as Dumbledore was absorbed in a green light and fell, never to rise again. She watched, horrified, as Voldemort climbed onto the stage and faced the two young men. "Young Malfoy," his serpentine voice rasped, "you disappoint me. You could have chosen to follow in your father's footsteps and become one of my most trusted Death Eaters, but no! You chose to follow this mudblood lover instead." Raising his wand Draco replied his voice cold and steady, "My father ended up dead by following you, had I chosen the path he did I would have died last summer too." With a laugh so devoid of any goodness or humor that it raised gooesbumps on Hermione's neck, Voldemort too raised his wand. "I hope you enjoyed this past year then," he smirked, "for now you shall join you father, whether you will it or not...AVADA KEDAVRA!" Bright green light shot out of Voldemort's wand.
Then it was as if time had slowed down, and all sound had stopped. Hermione watched helplessly as Harry clasped Draco in a hug, shielding him from the killing curse. Suddenly, the two were surrounded by a golden haze, that absorbed the unforgivable curse before shooting it back out at Voldemort. The Dark Lord had once upon his return to his new body, that no one would ever again escape his killing curse, and he was right. Dead, but right. All around, fighting stopped as the duelers took in the sight of the fallen Voldemort, and the glowing boys. As the golden haze slowly faded from their bodies the two collapsed. Finally, Hermione was able to move again, and she rushed to the stage.
The few days were one of constant activity for Hermione. She worked like a woman possessed, her guilt over her inaction during the battle causing her to neglect herself and only concentrate on those she nursed. It was during these days that Hermione realized that she truly wanted to become a mediwitch, and help mend the fighters if she wasn't suited to be one herself. She also hoped that by becoming a mediwitch she might gain the knowledge to cure Harry and Draco. Whatever that gold haze had been, it didn't kill the two boys, but it came close; and they were now in a magical induced coma for which there was no know cure. Others hadn't been so lucky though, if one could consider a coma luck. The death toll had been great among Death Eaters and graduation attendees alike. Dumbledore's was not the only face that would never be seen around Hogwart's again. Hagrid had taken down a score of Death Eaters with his brute force and his umbrella "wand" before the killing curse hit him from behind. Professor Trelawney had been aiding the students and guests in escaping when she was killed. And Professor Granby, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for that year, was killed despite the fact that he had been just a good professor as Remus Lupin had been in their third year. Luckily all the students and guests escaped with only varying degrees of injury.
Finally once everyone had been treated and made as comfortable as possible, Hermione slept, and then only because Professor, or rather Headmistress, McGonagall had practically forced her too. When summer holiday came, Hermione opted to start University early, and with hard work, many a sleepless night and a time-turner, she was able to finish in three years that which took most wizards four or five. Graduating top of her class, she had no problem getting hired on at St. Mungo's. And here she was five months later, exhausted from a week of graveyard shifts, and lost in reflection. Finally sitting up she decided to make her rounds to check on the long-term patients in the Spell Damage ward.
All of the patients were sound asleep and all that could be heard were the soft snores, and random dream talk of Gilderoy Lockhart agreeing to sign autographs. As she made her way down the aisle of curtained off beds, her pace slowed while at the same time her heart quickened. On the last two beds lay Draco and Harry. Pausing only to give Draco a cursory look over, she hesitated only slightly before pulling a chair up to Harry's bed and sitting down in it. Placing her hand over his like he had done those three years ago she made the same silent promise she made every night. I'm so sorry I didn't do anything to help you that afternoon, but I promise...I will find a cure for you and for Draco.
She sat there for a few moments longer before silently rising and returning to her post. However, as she reached Draco's partition she noticed a dark figure standing next to his bed. There was no hesitation. Hermione drew her wand and pointed at the figure before growling, "Who are you, and what the bloody hell are you doing here?" The figure slowly turned and Hermione let out a small gasp of surprise when she realized who it was. "You've been gone for only three years and you have forgotten me already," the silky voice stated in tones dripping with contempt, "and after I saved your life too. Really Miss Granger, work must be getting to you, either that or you've stopped being the insufferable-know-it-all you were at Hogwart's." Hermione stood there for a moment, her jaw slightly open in shock before stuttering with a squeak, "P-Professor Snape?"