The Wounded

Chapter Two

Chastised and Redeemed

She felt herself settling back into reality and realized she didn't know where she was. She leaned down and tucked her head under Severus Snape's arm.

"Come on Professor," she said as she pushed upward holding firmly to his wrist to assist him to his own feet. Snape stood, stumbling slightly on his first steps as he tried to not lean on the girl under his arm. Having no choice but to at least use her for balance, she felt him lean in slightly as he guided her through the run down and rampantly weed ridden garden. Passing around a rather large hedge in desperate need of trimming she saw the small house beyond. She walked at the pace he set. He was limping profusely. He had to have had a hell of a time getting up to the Astronomy Tower.

They reached the door, it was nothing more than a simple muggle door. Nothing in this area said that they were anywhere in the wizarding world at all. In the distance she could hear the sound of waves crashing against the seashore angrily. The storm that was coming in was sure to make those waves even angrier before the night was out. She reached out and opened the door, getting behind the professor to assist him inside. She guided him with a firm hand between his shoulder blades and another around his waist. He was indeed much taller than she was, and this was no easy task. She could feel her legs burning and her back muscles getting upset under the strain.

"Lumos..." the gruff yet wet voice coughed and the candles in the house lit up. He grasped onto the table near the door and Hermione took it as her cue to let him go. She moved around to stand before the professor that had spent years tormenting her and her house. She suddenly started wondering what she had done, why had she come. Or better yet, why hadn't he taken Draco to Madam Pomfrey. Even if he hadn't come back for his 7th year, she would not have turned him away.

The moan that filled the halls of the house was horrifying. Hermione jumped and her wand was out again. Her eyes darted about trying to pinpoint the location of the heartwrenching sound.

"Was that..." she started.

"Draco," he finished. "Go, he's up the hall second door on left..." he panted. His voice still sounded wet and full of illness. She turned and looked back at the Professor, eyes darting over his form worriedly. "I'm in no danger of dying. He is. Go," he said without a stone of command left in his voice. Hermione nodded, and turned heading down the hallway. Another wail left her bereft of breath as her heart palpitated in her chest. She knew Draco could be a crybaby, but these wails seemed so genuine, so heartwrenching, so agonized. She found the door, and reached for the knob.

As the door slid open, she could see this room was extremely well lit. Muggle first aid supplies lie all around the room. Haphazzard and dishleveled, but they were here in no particular organization. The bed on the far end of the room she could see a figure under the heavy blankets. Her heart stopped in her chest as she saw the bleach blonde white hair splayed over the pillow at the top of the pile of blankets. She dropped her bookbag and moved rapidly to the side of the bed.

Looking down at the face of a frantic Draco Malfoy, he was ghostly pale if that was even possible. His skin was pasty, and sallow at the same time. His eyes were wide looking up at her. He winced looking at her, his eyes turning away before another apparent wave of pain shot through his body causing him to arch up like he had been hit with electricity.

"I have to take the blankets off Draco," she said firmly. She swallowed hard as she drew her wand. "I have to see what is wrong." She grabbed the bottom-most blanket and pulled it back. The boy in the bed instantly began shivering and trembling. Another wail of agonized pain filled the room. Slowly Hermione forced herself to look at his form. Bandages wrapped him in some form or another over every appendage. Both hands were wrapped in gauze, the smell below the blankets was putrid and the smell of almonds assaulted her nose.

"These are all infected Draco," she said slowly sitting on the side of the bed. "Shhh..." The heat of the blankets was probably aiding in the growth of the infection. She just prayed that she got here before the infection became so bad that body parts had to be removed. Slowly she began unwrapping the bandages, starting at his feet and moving her way up his naked form. She was in auto pilot, and embarassment would have to be dealt with later. Apparently Snape's condition was so bad that he couldn't even brew up a potion for the infection or his fever.

Once he was completely unbandaged, she could see that most of his wounds were septic. They did not bleed anymore and the flesh inside the wounds was a sickly green color. The infection was killing the tissue causing the terrible smell. Her mind went into overdrive. Foul smell, greenish coloring to the wounds, septic. Also red and hot to the touch, red lines ascending, possible blood poisoning. Shape of wounds, claws. Check him over for bites. Okay, no bites. Good. If a werewolf did this, than he'll not become one. Good. Very good. First step, get antibiotics or immunity spells working. Right..

"Nettoyant Sang!" she said flicking her wand then lining it between his feet and carrying it up his body. The effect was almost immediate, he began panting and then violently rolled over and vomit all over the floor. The foul smell of his vomit told her the spell was working. She pulled his hair back and just let him wretch. The more of it got out this way, the less he would have to fight off on his own. His heaves were causing him a great deal of additional pain. But one thing at a time. Right now pain was good. It meant his body was still fighting.

What seemed like an eternity to probably both of them came to an end as Draco slowly moved to roll back onto his back, aware enough of his body to cover his genitals with his hands as he looked to Hermione. His stormy gray eyes seemed to be both pleading and disgusted all at once. It would never amaze her more how revealing the Malfoy eyes could be.

"Would you like to rinse out your mouth?" she said softly. He didn't speak, he just nodded once. Hermione got up and found a cup and filled it with water from the tap. Bringing it back she assisted him to roll back over to where he had wretched and helped him sip the water. Not daring to drink it, Draco slipped it through his cheeks and spat it out onto the floor. Slowly she rolled him back onto his back, a hiss escaped him as he lied upon wounds.

"Draco, I'm going to get rid of these wounds. Is there anything about them I need to know?" she said looking into his eyes once again.

"We...werewolf..." he choked out. "Kill me."

"I will do no such thing Draco Malfoy," she said sternly. "You will not have significant scarring, and the pain will be gone momentarily. When it goes I want you to sleep. Do you hear me?" He did not reply. His eyes tore away from hers and stared at the ceiling again. Either he didn't believe her or he was just too damned proud to take her help.

"Nulificus Totalis," she hit him with the spell and she could tell by how his muscles relaxed that he was no longer feeling pain. His eyes closed almost instantly as his breathing evened out. She knew the exhaustion he was having was not helping him heal or fight the infections.

She moved to the pile of clothes that were dropped unceremoniously at the end of the bed. Transfiguring one of the ripped shirts into a pair of boxers she carefully covered his nude form, dressing him so he would no longer at least have to show his nude form to the Mudblood. It was while she was pulling up the boxers she noticed the tearing and redness around his anus and she almost lost her lunch. If she hadn't eaten so long ago she was sure she would be adding to the pool of vomit already adorning the side of the bed.

No wonder he wanted her to kill him. He had been raped. She suddenly felt so stupid for telling him he wouldn't have much scarring. His emotional scars would be astronomical. Well, with him sleeping, at least she could tend the wounds without causing him too much pain. The blood cleaning spell was working wonders, but making a vile mess of the bed. The dead tissue and toxins were coming out of the wounds now. The Nettoyant Sang spell was a powerful one, and was only used in extreme cases. She believed this to be extreme enough.

Numerous cleaning spells later they all started bleeding and Hermione was overwhelmed again to frantically stop them. Normally if he had been in St. Mungo's there would be a whole team of mediwitches tending to his wounds. But Draco slept on.

She wrapped all the ones that wrapping would fix for now. Then quickly she nabbed her wand once again. Pressing it to her chest she uttered the words of her next spell.

"Manus Curatio!" The wand lit up in a brilliant blue that traveled down her arms into her hands. Sticking her wand into her hair she set about her next task. Closing up as many of these wounds as possible, especially the ones that would be the most visible or the most damaging. Her fingers pulled together the sides of the long gashes, pinching them together between her thumb and forefinger as she used her index finger on her casting hand to close the bleeding wound. Any witch or wizard could only cast the Curatio spell twice in a given day. She had to work fast to get as many as she could before the spells wore off.

Hermione closed all the uncovered wounds, forcing the flesh to meld back together again. His skin complied with ease. Hermione made note of that. If he truly had wished to die, the spell would not have worked so well. Once he was in no further danger, she cleaned him and the bed one more time before covering him with a thin blanket that she warmed with a charm. He seemed to settle even deeper into sleep at that point.

She cast one more alarm charm, to let her know when Draco awakened and took a moment to clean up the vomit on the side of the bed manually. Vomit was one thing that really didn't bother her. She made a mental joke about how much Harry would be adorning the crap on the floor too if he had been here. Harry never could handle bodily fluids other than his own.

She checked Draco's temperature once more, much lower and very close to normal. With a sigh of relief, and quite a bit of harrowed nerves unbundling in her stomach she set to her next task. Snape. The alarm spell would alert her when Draco awakened so that she could go deal with him before he did something tremendously stupid like get out of bed.

Hermione walked from the bedroom after taking a thorough shower. She had to scrub away all that infection before going to deal with Snape. She didn't know if the Staff infection could be passed to anything Snape had, she hadn't a chance to check him over previously. Going to the dresser in Draco's bedroom she found it full of his clothing. Sighing, she helped herself to some of his clothes, charming them to fit her since he had a full head height over her. She tied her hair up and stuck her wand through the bun. With a sigh, she headed down the hall to her next task.

She found him asleep in the living room, on the couch. A philter of what appeared to be bourbon on his chest, his hand barely holding onto it. She wasn't foolish enough to try and remove it from his hands. She moved beside him and whispered.

"Professor," she said softly. "Please wake up." The sudden response caught her off guard as those onyx eyes snapped open and stared directly at her. Unseeing at first of who was before him, they seemed glazed. "Professor Snape?" Sweat adorned his brow, and his breathing seemed labored and wheezy. She wanted to make sure he recognized her before she did anything. His hand held tighter to the glass of alcohol on his chest and she knew he was more awake now.

She lifted her hand to his forehead, pressing the back of it to test his body temperature. His sweat was not fever induced. He was still wearing his cloak and he probably passed out almost immediately after getting back.

"Does the fireplace work?" she said in her softest voice. His eyes never let go of looking at her, and she could feel them boring into her flesh with the intensity of his stare.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he said. She wondered if that nasty tone was just naturally part of his demeanor. She reached up and got her wand, flicking a fire into the fireplace.

"The house is damp, the fire will help. Draco is resting, I've done all I can for him tonight," she said softly. Her wet hair was stamping into the back of Draco's shirt making it stick to her back. "Now can you tell me what is wrong with you? Or do I need to check you over?"

"I do not need your help," he said quietly looking into the fire as he sat up on the couch.

"Professor, please do not be stubborn. I need you up to full strength so you can brew some potions for Draco," she said firmly.

"Listen you know it all little prat, Draco will not survive this," he said angrily. "I have to protect him so I am, but I cannot protect him from himself," he snorted.

"No, now you listen to me you little git! If I can survive something like that, he can. And if I have to, I'll put it to him in such a way! Then let's see his competitive nature take over, shall we?" she snorted back, crossing her arms over her chest refusing to look at him.

"For someone so smart, you surely do not know what you are talking about," he said.

"Don't I? Try me," she said dangerously turning her flaming eyes toward the teacher. "You cannot take house points away now, so you had better watch your step here Professor. I have no tolerance for your insults today."

A smirk came across his lips. He would have fun with this. This could be truly interesting. There wasn't any school rules keeping his wit in check, and toying with this annoying girl was something he had been waiting for almost seven years for. The dangerous lioness versus the sly snake. This truly could be interesting.

"Oh and what pain of his do you possibly know?" his voice was almost a purr. "Did your friend the Weasel touch upon something you weren't ready to give? Did the Boy That Lived touch you inappropriately? Oh, what pain that must have been," he chuckled evily and low in his chest.

"No," she said. "Do you really want to know? Or would you be just cruel enough to use that against me too?"

"There is nothing you have been through that I have not experienced child," he snorted.

"You are wrong," she said firmly but refusing to look at him still. Her blood was boiling. Her anger was raging. "You better watch your step here Professor." Her voice remained calm and quiet. Dangerously so. His eyes narrowed at her response. There was something wrong with her response. Normally she would have been angry, she would have been yelling and carrying on like a child. No, something was dangerously wrong. He could see the anger behind her eyes staring into the fire. But it was a private anger. It was something akin to not wanting to share. It was dark, and clouded her eyes. As a spy these are things you learn to read.

"What happened to you Granger?" he said. His voice was not calming or soothing. But it wasn't demanding either. He set down his glass, and turned to look at the slip of a girl before him.

"I refuse to speak of it," she said dismissively waving her hand at him.

"There are other ways," he said.

"It's nothing I'm sure you haven't seen before," she said coldly. "I'm unconcerned if you know or not. There is nothing you can do with the information to harm me anymore than I already have."

He moved off of the couch, onto his knees next to the girl on the floor, staring at the fire.

"Look at me Granger," he said firmly. Her eyes turned to his. There was no fire behind those eyes. They were cold and unfeeling. Whatever memories she was sheltering there were robbing her of the emotions that would normally be tied to them. Anger was his way of dealing with similar memories, but she was not angry at the memories. She seemed angrier with him.

He pulled his wand and looked at her expectantly. She noticed his fingers did not curl around it the way they should. He seemed to be having a hard time holding it at all.

"You will not like what you see," she said with a smirk to rival his own. "But please, if you are into that kind of pain don't let me stop you." Her sardonic nature took him by surprise. Was she always like this? Was she always so darkened? No, she had more fire to her before. He remembered when she was indignant about losing house points when Slytherin did not. That fire alone was more than what he saw now.

With a nod to her statement, he pressed the tip of his wand to her temple. Visions filled before his eyes. Tending to Draco, no, back further. Dealing with students looking upon her as if she were scum or a tragedy. No, further back. The hospital wing, pain, a lot of pain. Not being allowed to see in a mirror. No further back. The snakelike face, the tongue of a snake touching everywhere, biting, leaving bruising marks, wrists bleeding, ankles bleeding, the knife, the black knife. No, further back. Hearing the word stupefy inside the Three Broomsticks. Awakening in the circle of hooded cloaks, all that could be made out through the white covering on her head.

They were told it was a muggle. They were told it was nothing more than a stupid muggle that had transgressed on the Dark Lord's profits. When all was done, Narcissa was demanded to bathe her and clean her up. Fenrir Greyback was not allowed to play with the girl. The other males and even Bellatrix had taken their turns.

He saw her bath. It was nothing more than a dunk in the freezing cold river that was nearby with a few cleansing and healing charms to make sure she didn't die. Then she was brought before the Dark Lord. All were dismissed save for one. And the Dark Lord had his way cutting her, taunting her with jeers about her heritage, and listening to her screams. Her eyes were wild around the room, anywhere but to look at him. She locked onto the other man that had not been dismissed from the room with her. His grey stormy eyes shown through the mask he wore. His posture was strong, shoulders squared firmly. It was Lucius, and Severus knew that.

"Tell me, and you will live," he slithered in her head. "Tell me is Severus Snape at Hogwarts. Tell me, and you will live."

"Kill me now!" she screamed, lifting her head and biting onto his cheek hard enough to draw blood.

"Tell me child, your antics will not provoke me," he slipped that tongue against her ear.

"I said, Kill Me Now!" she shouted loudly into his ear. "I will never tell you anything!"

"Severus Snape doesn't care about you," he said softly, almost with a form of tenderness.

"Neither do you," she snarled angrily.

"But I could Hermione," he said caressing her cheek. "I could make this all stop, you will be so cherished. Your mind put to such wonderful uses."

"And my body, Sod Off!" she tried to pull her knee up to hit the Lord where it could possibly count most only to have it grabbed firmly by the other Death Eater. The Dark Lord removed the black knife from it's sheath at his side, starting at just below the jugular, he cut into her flesh. She panted but did not cry out. The cut continued down her chest, deep into her breast, then lower to her navel. Blood smeared all over her body. "SOD OFF!" She screamed with a tinge of pain in the voice.

"Oh I dare say you will come to me on your own before this is over," he said softly. "I can see your feelings Hermione. None of them love you. They use you. All of them. Even I am using you right now. And there is little to nothing you will ever be able to do about that. Now tell me again, is Severus Snape at Hogwarts?"

"Sod Off," she said again. It was easy enough to pant out without giving away too much.

"You belong to me Hermione Granger," he slithered his tongue along her blood. Diving the sharp-ended prong into the wound making her wince and try to curl up. But her binds and the Death Eater holding her ankles would not allow for it.

The Dark Lord drew his wand. Standing off of the girl's body he looked to his accomplice. "Flip her over."

The stormy eyed one, turned her body over forcing her arms to cross over one another in the shackles she bore. She could see her arms now, covered in her own blood that had run down from the manacles that were too tight around her wrists. A searing pain hit her in the lower spine. Burning her from the inside out. She screamed, finally, she screamed and the world went dark.

He tried to move further back in her memories and found himself firmly shoved out of her head, the white wall coming around herself in a firm Occlumency.

He pulled his wand from her temple and sat back.

"Why didn't you tell him I wasn't there," he inquired. "Why did you hide the fact that I wasn't at Hogwarts?"

"If I had said no, you were not there, he would have intensified the hunt on you. He would have expected me to tell him if you were not. So by refusing altogether, I successfully convinced him you were there," she said turning her face back to the fire. "I had heard a couple of the Death Eaters saying they had no way into Hogwarts now that Draco was gone. So it was best he believed you were there."

He sat quietly contemplating her words. She was being protective of him and Draco? Why? Surely it was not because Draco meant anything to her. To serve his purpose as the double agent for the Order? No, he needed more information. There was not enough information here to draw a satisfactory conclusion.

"I think you misunderstood the question. Why were you protecting me?" he said firmly.

"Someone had to get inside now that you could no longer do it," she said closing her eyes. "I had the most to offer other than Potter himself."

"WHAT!" He jumped back from her like she was a white hot fire. Her head turned slowly to him.

"Did I stutter?" she said with a quirky smirk.

"You? You! Of all people! YOU?" his eyes were wide, dangerous and worried.

"Don't worry, he doesn't know I'm here," she said firmly. "He has no way to track me."

Severus jumped over to her side, anger seething from every pore as he pulled her sleeve back from her arm. Nothing, pale cream skin. He yanked at the other sleeve. Nothing. Easiness set in and he pulled back.

"He didn't mark you," he said quietly.

"Of course he did. Just not with that dark curse," she said softly. "He marked me in scars." She turned and lifted the back of her shirt. Carved into the skin were the dark mark, but not the curse. It would not summon her as Severus' mark did.

"He didn't want his dark curse weakening me," she said lowering the shirt. "I'm not exactly a prime candidate for him. I am after all, muggle born."

Severus looked at the scars and turned his head away. So he had been replaced. The hunt for his head was confirmed.

"I need to take you back," he said firmly.

"No, Draco still needs tending and so do you," she said coldly. "I will finish that, and then I will leave. Once that is done, I will remove the memory of ever seeing you and destroy that memory."

She knew how to do that? Of course she did. He sighed. She was right. Draco did still need tending. Probably this girl could assist him more than he could. Right now he needed a tender hand. Not a firm one like his. With a deep breath, he let out the tension.

"I'm going to get food," she said quietly. "Draco needs to eat, and apparently so do you. I'll make a meal for the both of you then I want you both to rest. I'll get you a potion for your pneumonia but it will require you to sleep for it to work, but you knew that already. I'll stand guard until you wake."

With that, she rose. "I'm borrowing your cloak. Mine is dirty." She wrapped her arms around Severus and undid the clasps to his heavy cloak removing it slowly from his form. He adjusted as she removed it and wrapped it around herself. "Draco should sleep a few more hours. I suggest you do the same," she said stepping from the house.