JustJeanette: Thanks! Updates are coming soon!

duj: Ahhhh... dates... I've tried to keep the dates/ages as accurate as I can and I have been trying to double check as many as I can. Oh well, sorry if I got them wrong. As for it being inevitable... well, there had to be come inevitability in it but I hope you're enjoying it all the same!

Barb8: I hope you enjoy the next chapter as they show a bit more of Snape's reactions. Thanks for reviewing!

Carpathia: Wow - only one thing missing! I'm stunned, to be honest - I'm writing this using mainly just research from books etc. and a little from past experiance but I am so happy you think I've got most of it right. And as for Poppy being able to help - no she won't. I'm npt sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing... Also, I don't think Snape's an evilbastard either!

excessivelyperky: Permenant I'm afraid. Snape's in a bit of a mess, in short. Thanks for reviewing!

Charbar: Hiya! I am honestly surprised that no one else seems that concerned that I killed the main character... Oh well... I hope you'll enjoy this chappy too!

Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed and, as they say, on with the show!

Lies

"What happened?" Harry said instantly as he saw Professor McGonagall, looking strained, walking down the Grand Staircase at Hogwarts.

"I beg your pardon? Oh, it's you, Potter. I assume you've heard the news then?"

"What happened?" Harry repeated angrily.

"Harry!"

Harry spun around on his heel to see Hermione running out of the Great Hall towards him, and embracing him in a hug. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry I haven't been in touch recently. I've been busy looking after…"

"…Snape." Harry finished for her. "What happened?" he repeated for the third time. The two Professors exchanged glances. "Why didn't you tell the Order anything? Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"Maybe you should come to my office, Potter, it's nearest," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "Hermione, I suggest you come too."

Harry sat down slowly into a small armchair a few minutes later in Professor McGonagall's office staring at Hermione, who was looking unusually tight lipped.

Not surprising if the man she's been working with for the last six weeks has just gone and died…

Harry broke the silence first. "What happened?"

"With what, Harry?" Hermione said incredibly calmly.

"You damn well know what with!" Harry exploded. "Snape's just gone and got himself beaten up somewhere in London and snuffed it last night! For Merlin's sake; look at what he did in the fight a few weeks back! I'd have died if it hadn't been for him! What the hell do you mean, 'with what'!"

Hermione smiled gently at Harry's outburst. "The Prophet is lying, Harry," she said softly. "Professor Snape's not dead; far from it, actually."

"But… But…" Harry stuttered.

"Rita Skeeter wrote the article, which should have given you a clue, Harry. You know what she's like with making things up. Some of the things she wrote are true, but not all of them; Professor Snape is not dead, I promise you."

"What bits are true then, since you seem to know everything?" Harry snarled.

"Well," Hermione started slowly. "He was attacked in London three weeks ago and his injuries were exactly what the Prophet said they were; they didn't exaggerate them. He has been in a coma since the attack but he woke up yesterday for a few minutes and spoke to us, Madam Pomfrey and Mark, he's the surgeon who's been taking responsibility for Severus while he's at Guy's."

"'Severus'?" Harry repeated incredulously.

Hermione blushed.

"Don't believe all of what you read in the Media, Potter," Professor McGonagall interrupted sternly. "Some of the facts will be correct but a good many are exaggerated or just plain invented. Especially if Rita Skeeter is involved," she finished tartly.

"When can I see him?" Harry asked sharply.

"I don't think…"

"You can't," Hermione and Professor McGonagall said together.

"Sorry!" said Harry, as he registered Hermione's outright refusal.

"He doesn't want to see you," Hermione said at once. "Well, I haven't actually asked him yet but I don't think it's a good idea. He's not… ummmm…"

"What aren't you telling me? I have a right to know!"

"I think it's for Severus to tell when he feels ready," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "He's going to have a rough ride, as it were, ahead of him. He just needs some time."

"Fine," Harry muttered coldly as he stood up, his eyes burning. "I actually bother to find out what the hell's going on and no one is even interested. Fine… Tell Severus that I don't want anything more to do with him. Tell him from me that I hope whatever he's done hurts. Tell him that I never want to set eyes on the miserable git again. Tell him that, Hermione."

"Harry…!" Hermione called exasperatedly as her best friend slammed the door to the office out of shear anger.

"Let him go, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "This has been a shock for him; just give him time to calm down. He doesn't mean what he said; Harry's just very, very angry. You know he doesn't like being kept in the dark after what happened with Albus."

"I said we should tell him," Hermione responded in a cracked whisper. "Why didn't you let me!"

"We've been through this before, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Severus is in a dangerous position, now more than ever. What do you think the Death Eaters will do when they find out he's alive? He killed their mentor! Trust me, Hermione; the less people who know the truth, the safer Severus will be at the moment. He will not take to his new predicament easily and he is very likely to push us all away. No one knows what it can be like to lose something as important to their whole principles as this."

"No," Hermione interrupted suddenly in dawning realisation. "No. There is one other who knows what it's like to lose something like this. Well, not exactly, but emotional suffering is sort of all the same. There's not much different between this and when Sirius died, and then Dumbledore…"

"No, Miss Granger. Potter will not agree and neither will Severus. Just let Severus be: he does not need Harry Potter rubbing his nose in it."

Hermione stared out of the window deep in thought, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her plan was half formed already; she just had to get it to work. A tall, black haired figure, almost running down to the gates, caught her eye and her plan suddenly seemed impossible.

This cannot, and will not, ever work. They'll never learn to be strong for the other…

Harry stormed out into the grounds and headed down towards the gates to Hogsmeade. He refused to look at the patch of burnt ground on the lawn where Lucius Malfoy had stood a few months earlier… at the area of bare earth where he and Snape had had fought side by side…

With a snarl, he Disapparated back to the Burrow to tell Ron and Ginny.

Hermione crept into room one half an hour later as quietly as she could. One of the Doctors had told her to be quiet as Snape was sleeping but Hermione had brought a book with her so it didn't bother her in the slightest.

At least it's sleeping and not unconscious now…

When Hermione glanced over at Snape, she could see very little change from when she had first seen him after the attack except that the tube which had originally fed into his mouth had been replaced with a pull on mask. Snape was also partially propped up against the pillows but his face was still incredibly pale. With a soft sigh, she sat down on the chair beside the bed and started reading.

"Granger?" Snape whispered a few minutes later. Hermione jumped and looked up to see the Potions master watching her.

"Severus!" she said with an unconcealed smile. "How are you?"

"Never been better," Snape answered faintly but with his usual sarcasm. "And since when have I said you can use my first name?"

"I've been using it for the last three weeks and you haven't complained once," she shot back with a smirk.

Snape flinched as he tried to push himself upright against the pillows and he groaned quietly as a stab of pain twisted its way up his chest.

"Doesn't this place have painkillers?" Snape murmured, trying to ignore how weak his voice sounded.

"You're on maximum dosage," Hermione answered with a sympathetic nod. "Mind you, you've got to expect some form of pain if you go and get your chest ripped open by a load of Death Eaters."

Snape's eyes flashed momentarily.

"They think I'm dead, don't they," he stated bluntly, somehow far more mellow than he usually was.

"So does everyone else, actually," Hermione said as casually as she could while she put her book back into her bag.

"Sorry?" Snape asked incredulously.

"That's the first time I've heard you apologise," Hermione said vaguely before looking up at Snape and continuing in a steady tone. "And everyone in the Wizarding world thinks you're dead. It was in the Prophet this morning; Rita Skeeter wrote an article about you being attacked and she said that you'd died last night."

"Everyone thinks I'm dead?" Snape said stiffly, looking at Hermione with a strange look twisting his pallid face.

"Yep," Hermione said casually. "Well, everyone who reads the Prophet does, anyway."

"So that's everyone, then. At least Potter will be happy," Snape hissed quietly with a sneer.

"Actually," Hermione corrected, "Harry came up to Hogwarts this morning as soon as he'd seen the article. He was, uh, quite upset," she finished cautiously.

"Only to be a heroic Gryffindor."

"Only because he cares, Severus," Hermione corrected quietly. "He wants to help…"

Snape closed his eyes and turned away from Hermione with a frown creasing his brow. "No one cares about the 'greasy git', Miss Granger. Don't delude yourself."

"That's nice," Hermione said in a hurt voice. "So I've been sitting here for the last three weeks so I could enjoy your conversation, have I!"

"Don't be sarcastic, Granger," Snape snapped.

"Don't be a git, then," Hermione answered with a scowl, for a moment forgetting who she was talking to. Snape's customary bitterness seemed to have returned with vengeance as he regained a little of his usual bullyish manner.

"Language, Granger," Snape answered with a trace of silkiness before shuddering roughly as he tried to sit up.

"Professor!"

"Granger," Snape ground out through gritted teeth. "Go to Hogwarts and brew a concentrated strengthening solution. Bring it here. Use your brain for something useful for once."

"I don't think…"

"It won't react with anything those Muggles have given me if you add nine holly berries just before you leave it to simmer," he interrupted coldly, trying once more to sit up.

"No, I really think that you should ask Madam Pomfrey before…"

"Please," Snape snarled, almost as if the word was costing him a great deal of embarrassment to ask for something nicely. Before Hermione could answer, Snape groaned and sank back against the pillows with his eyes closed. For a few seconds, it looked as if the Half-Blood Prince was trying to say something but was too drained to get the words out. A moment later, he was asleep.

For a long while, Hermione sat frozen to her chair, unsure what to do.

Do I get it for him…?

All Hermione's common sense screamed at her to not do so but then her heart overruled her as she took in the Potions master's weak body.

It won't do any harm…

"I'll be back soon," Hermione whispered before guiltily leaving the room and heading back to Hogwarts as quickly as she could.

Two months later…

"Enter."

The voice sounded anything but friendly and welcoming as Hermione pushed open a door covered with peeling, black paint: the front door of Spinner's End.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Snape said without looking up from the book he was reading.

"I was only coming to… see how you are," Hermione said hesitantly.

"As well as I could be, given the circumstances," Snape answered in a bored voice as if he had answered the question a thousand times before and causing Hermione to frown.

"I was only asking…"

"And now you've asked, what is it that you want?"

"N… nothing."

"Then why did you come, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blushed at Snape's sarcastic answer.

Who'd have thought I spent hours every day for three months at his side hoping that he'd get better? That I would smuggle a potion into the hospital just so he could recover quicker?

"I only came to check that you were all right," Hermione answered stiffly. "You only got out of Guy's three days ago!"

"Sit down, Miss Granger," Snape said coolly without looking at her. "What do you want to drink? I won't poison it, I promise," he added in irritation as Hermione gasped.

"I would… I mean… Maybe…"

"Yes?"

"Orange squash," Hermione said randomly.

I don't even like orange squash…

Snape scowled heavily and turned his wheelchair and made his way out of the room without a glance in her direction.

Git…

Hermione was annoyed; Snape had been considerably colder towards her ever since he'd left the hospital. He was still very pale and even his customary black robes didn't quite hide how skeletally thin he'd become over his time in hospital. He insisted that he wasn't in any pain but everyone was doubtful about that. Maybe it was only in Hermione's imagination, but she thought that the Potions master was more rigid than usual, that he was holding his shoulders a little too tense to be plausible…

Professor McGonagall had been correct when she said Snape would take the news of the loss of use with his legs very hard although he hadn't outwardly shown it. He hadn't left Spinner's End since he'd arrived and had barely spoken ever since. Harry, too, had also not mentioned the Potions master at all since his visit to Hogwarts and was feigning deafness every time anyone broached the subject.

Still, Snape's not as well as he's making himself out to be…

Hermione glanced over to the door Snape had gone through and assumed it led to a small kitchen. She shivered unnoticeably; the gloomy atmosphere did nothing to make Snape's living room any more endearing. A few seconds later, there was the sound of breaking glass followed instantly by a dull thud and a soft moan.

"Professor?" Hermione said cautiously, standing up in concern. She waited for an answer but all she could hear was Snape coughing violently.

"Professor!"

Hermione bolted into the kitchen where Snape had just gone, only to see the Half-Blood Prince doubled over holding his ribs, a shattered tumbler lying in glittering shards on the floor next to him. Snape seemed to go several shades paler even as Hermione watched and the Potions master was looking dangerously like he was about the throw up or pass out.

Or both… Hermione realised grimly.

"Professor?" Hermione repeated clearly as she stepped over to him and put one hand firmly on his shoulder. "What's wrong? Oh god, please! Say something!"

"Let go," Snape hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm all right…" He roughly pushed Hermione off him and straightened up, only to fall forwards again with a crash as his shoulder collided with the worktop.

Hermione pulled him upright again and half dragged the wheelchair back into the lounge before picking the Potions master up with surprising strength and laying him as gently as she could on the worn settee. Hermione was horrifying aware as she did so at how much lighter the spy was compared to what she had expected someone of his height to be but she had no time to dwell on that fact as Snape closed his eyes, his mouth a thin line as he bit back a sob of pain. His face was as white as snow.

"What's wrong?" Hermione said instantly. "Don't lie and say nothing because something obviously is!" Snape didn't say anything, his face screwed up in agony. "If you don't answer in the next ten seconds," Hermione said desperately, "I'm calling an ambulance and you can go back to Guy's."

Hermione realised guiltily that she was blackmailing a teacher but pushed the thought aside as her threat achieved the desired response.

"Blue… bottle…" Snape choked out. "Table…"

Hermione stood up quickly and hurried over to a table in the corner of the room. An unlabeled blue bottle was there as Snape said it would be and she picked it up and walked back over to her old Potions Professor.

"Here," she said calmly as Snape wrapped a few long, pale fingers around its neck and tried to pull it off her. His grip wasn't strong enough though and the bottle slid from his grasp. Hermione caught it before it hit the floor.

"How much do you want?" Hermione asked as she uncorked the bottle as if nothing had happened.

"One… mouthful…" Snape gasped between bouts of more coughing.

"Here," Hermione repeated quietly as she put the bottle to Snape's thin lips and poured a small quantity of the elixir into his mouth. Snape swallowed greedily and visibly relaxed a few seconds later.

"Ok?" she questioned gently.

"Slightly," Snape answered in a voice full of bitterness despite the rapidly receding pain. He kept his eyes closed as he dropped his head onto the arm of the settee, his skin still ghostly pale.

"What is this, anyway?" Hermione asked as she lifted the bottle gingerly.

"Painkilling potion," Snape responded unhelpfully.

"I'd figured," Hermione said dryly. "Which one?"

"Antijury Draught."

Hermione nearly dropped the bottle.

"Stop overreacting. It works, what's the problem?" Snape snapped.

"You know exactly what the problem is with it!" Hermione shrieked. "It's illegal! You can't buy it! It hides the pain so much you end up hurting yourself even more! That's what you feel pain for: to stop you hurting yourself – but it won't work if you stop feeling the pain all together! Whoever sold this to you is a nutter; and a criminal!"

"I didn't buy it off anyone," Snape sighed in irritation. "I made it. I am a Potions master, in case you had not noticed, Miss Granger. I made it as soon as I got out of that hell hole full of Muggle lunatics."

"They saved your life!"

"For what reason? What do I have to live for? No one wants to waste their time with a cripple," Snape answered without thinking.

Hermione gaped at him. "I… You…" she spluttered. Snape ignored her and waited in silence. He scowled slightly; the potion he had been taking made him impulsive and he often said something that he wished he hadn't. It was an annoying side effect, but the pain in his chest was too much to endure if he didn't take it.

He moved slightly; Spinner's End wasn't exactly warm and sitting around all day made him feel very cold almost all the time.

Well, until a few hours ago, anyway…

Several hours previously, he had started to feel oddly warm, almost as if he was sitting near a glowing fire at Hogwarts. The fact that he hadn't even managed to raise the energy to light so much as a candle, let alone a fire, seemed irrelevant to him. In fact, he reasoned vaguely, nothing seems that relevant any more…

"You all right?" Hermione said nervously, looking at Snape's bloodless face.

"I'm tired," he answered slowly, slightly slurring his words. "I…" he tailed off, not sure what he was trying to say.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked again, sounding worried. Snape didn't answer; it was so much easier to ignore her… He was dimly aware of Hermione putting a gentle hand across his forehead and then pulling her hand away almost instantly with a yelp.

"Merlin, you're freezing!"

Snape thought he heard Hermione stand up but it didn't seem to matter; he was dozing lightly, feeling pleasantly warm and very sleepy now the Antijury Draught was working fully and he was in no mood to investigate. Consequently, he was mildly surprised a few minutes later when a thick blanket was pulled over him and a soft pillow was put under his head carefully.

He tried to say something but was too tired to get the words out; it annoyed him that someone felt as if they were brushing hair out of his face and talking softly but he could no longer understand what they were actually saying. Some small part of him screamed out a warning, telling him that something was wrong, but it didn't seem to make much of an impression on the rest of his brain. Just as the realisation washed over him, he felt again the unrelenting tug of some dark void toying with him like a small fishing boat on a rough, rolling ocean. He blacked out just as Hermione took his hand.

The next thing Snape was aware of was breathing in the smell of something burning.

What the…?

His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up but fell back almost instantly with a sob of pain. He breathed in again and he noticed something almost instantly.

Not burning, just cooking.

Hang on…

He sat up slightly and looked around himself. A thick quilt was covering most of his body while everything around him seemed to be a lot cleaner and tidier than when he'd last looked. A fire was burning merrily in the grate bathing the room in a warm orange glow and beside him, on a small table, was a round bottle with a handwritten label reading 'Pain Reducing Potion'.

"So you're awake then, are you?" Hermione said brightly as she walked into the room holding a stack of books.

"What are you doing here?" Snape demanded icily. "How did you get in?" It infuriated him when Hermione just smiled sympathetically.

"You let me in," Hermione answered softly. "About eight hours ago now. You've been asleep for most of it, though. You weren't exactly on top of things earlier, were you," she stated, causing Snape to turn away from her with a frown.

"I was all right," Snape snarled, fully aware he was lying.

"If you count collapsing in pain, taking an illegal potion and then falling unconscious with the early stages of hypothermia 'all right' then yes, I suppose you were."

For the first time in his life, Snape was lost for words. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. Hermione turned her back to him firmly and started placing the books on a shelf in alphabetical order.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" she asked, careful to keep her voice light and casual.

"When I was at Guy's," Snape answered sullenly, mentally bracing himself for the reprimand which would undoubtedly be coming. Hermione spun around looking horrified but not overly surprised.

"That was three days ago!"

Snape shrugged. "I wasn't hungry…"

Why, in Merlin's name, am I explaining myself to Granger of all people?

"You mean you were in too much pain to make yourself anything," Hermione interrupted shakily. "You should have said something and we'd have sent one of the house-elves over with some food from Hogwarts. Oh Severus…"

Snape froze just as Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth and blushed.

"I didn't… I mean… Sorry…"

Snape ignored her completely and Hermione seemed to sense his anger and started to edge slowly towards the kitchen. "I suggest you drink that," Hermione said awkwardly as she indicated the potion on the table with her head. "It'll do you good."

Snape glared at her but poured himself a glass of it anyway as soon as her back was turned. The dull ache had returned and he was keen to take anything which would reduce it. He swallowed the potion whole before dropping back onto the sofa as he waited for the potion to kick into effect, his head throbbing slowly. He glanced up when Hermione walked into the lounge holding a tray.

"Sorry, I know, my cooking's not great."

"Nor is your potion making. Next time you make a healing potion, make sure you add the salamander blood after you let it simmer."

"Advanced Potion Making said…"

"The book is wrong."

"Umm…"

"I qualified with an Honours degree from Cambridge University after a year of study. I became a Master after a further six months. I know what I'm talking about, Miss Granger, unlike you."

"How long does the course usually…?"

"Four years. Six if you become a Master," Snape answered, interrupting her silkily.

"Oh."

Hermione carefully put the tray down on the table and indicated that Snape should start eating. Slowly, Snape reached out and picked up the fork in silence. He was mildly intrigued to see a golden omelette and a glass of water on the tray and took a small amount on his fork. Hermione watched for a few seconds before Snape glanced at her.

"Is this normal Gryffindor behaviour?" Snape said coolly, "or is it just special treatment for me – that you feel the need to stare at me whilst I am eating? Or is it just you're enjoying the freak show?"

"Sorry," Hermione said, blushing again but not before a flash of pain flickered across her soft features. Snape smirked at her discomfort before taking a mouthful of the omelette. Within seconds, iron bands mercilessly contracted around his abdomen and he retched; his stomach so unused to food that it couldn't take any at all.

"Professor?"

"I feel sick," Snape murmured before he gave another barely repressed dry heave.

"Haven't you got something for that?" Hermione said quickly, averting her eyes rapidly to a glass fronted cabinet of potions. "At least, I thought you did."

"Black label," Snape supplied dully as he laid one arm across his stomach. "Left hand side."

"That's it, I think," Hermione said suddenly as she picked up a small vial. "One you made again?"

"Yes." He shuddered as he took the vial off Hermione and swallowed some of the navy blue liquid with a grimace.

"Taste foul?"

Then glare Hermione received made her recoil but Snape looked away from her quickly and started eating the omelette again. Hermione sat down on the opposite side of the table and carefully examined her fingers. After a few minutes, Snape spoke up at last.

"Why are you here?"

"Because Professor McGonagall asked me to come," Hermione answered without hesitation.

"Why are you here?" Snape asked again, looking at her, his face inscrutable.

"Because we were all worried about you. It was only three days ago that you got out of Guy's and…" Hermione tailed off, staring at Snape.

His black eyes were unreadable as he answered.

"Guy's released me as healthy."

"Guy's released you under the influence of Strengthening Solution," she corrected accusingly. "You overdosed on it, didn't you."

It wasn't a question and Snape didn't deny it. "And if I did? The Muggles aren't likely to want an enfeebled waste-of-space taking up one of their beds, are they? They're overstretched enough as it is so they might as well take care of those people who are capable of recovering. I'm not one of them."

Hermione sighed. "How much extra did you take?" she asked quietly, well used to Snape's disgusted opinions of his 'weakness'.

"Enough that they let me out," he muttered. "Taking extra wasn't the problem; it was when it wore off. That's why I made the Antijury Draught as soon as I got back here. It works virtually instantly. What's this got to do with you, anyway?" Snape demanded suddenly.

"So if it works instantly, it wears off instantly as well, I assume?" Hermione mused, ignoring Snape's last question completely.

"Yes, I was due for another dose when you turned up, before you ask," he said heavily as he reached for the glass of water Hermione had got for him. "And yes, its effects did wear off in the kitchen and yes, it did hurt. A lot."

Hermione couldn't help herself; she recoiled at Snape's self-condemning tone. Snape glanced at her, his dark eyes betraying no sign of his emotions.

"I can show you how much it hurt, if you like. Just walk down some god forsaken road near here and get yourself beaten up by a load of Death Eaters for killing their idol. Just tell them before hand that you'd rather not be murdered: you just want to have your lung punctured and then held under a curse which keeps you in a coma for a month as well as being paralysed from the waist down and made into an incapacitated failure. I'm sure they will happily oblige if you ask them. Say you know me and they'll be only too willing."

"That's not funny," Hermione whispered as she took in Snape's cold hearted, unfeeling words. "That's not funny at all."

"It wasn't meant to be. I was being factual."

Hermione looked directly into Snape's eyes and saw no traces of his usual sarcasm; it appeared that he was being brutally honest with her. Snape held her curious stare unblinkingly, neither speaking nor breaking eye contact with her. Hermione dropped her gaze first, blushing, and Snape took a sip of water as he watched the bushy haired Gryffindor.

"What happened? On that day…?"

"When I was beaten up? I don't know, I've already told you that."

"You really can't remember anything?"

"I…" Snape suddenly stopped talking, his eyes screwed up in pain and his jaw clenched as he dropped his head onto the back of the sofa, his fists clenched into tight balls.

"Professor!" Hermione squeaked as she stood up, pushing past the table to crouch next to the spy. "Oh Merlin, what's wrong! That's it, I've had enough. I'm calling an ambulance; I should have done hours ago. What is it! Please, Severus, speak to me! Is it a curse or something which means you can't tell me?"

"No," Snape ground out quietly. "The Antijury Draught I took earlier. It's just worn off."

Hermione swore at him.

As Snape was still struggling to do anything much for himself, it was agreed that someone from Hogwarts would go over to see him everyday to help out with cooking meals and general tidying up, not that there was much to do.

The Half-Blood Prince had clearly resented the outside interference but Professor McGonagall had no intention of letting Snape slip back into old ways. The job had largely fallen to Hermione as she, of everyone, seemed to be tolerated by Severus better than anyone else. It was agreed that Madam Pomfrey would not help; she had visited Snape on one occasion but it had been a disaster, in short.

"Do you want anything?" Hermione said as she walked into the lounge holding a bag of shopping a week later.

"A coffee would be good," Snape answered lazily as he looked up from the piece of parchment he was writing on.

"Anything to eat?"

"Not unless you are."

"I was going to have some cheese on toast, I'm starving."

"Put one in for me too, then, thanks Miss Granger."

"I'll be back in a sec…"

Snape was angry for some reason that day. He was tired of people fussing and fawning over him. He was tired of not having time alone. He was tired of not being independent. He was tired, most of all, of being him. There was a war going on and no one seemed to tell him anything about it. Voldemort hadn't summoned him, although, Snape reflected suddenly, that's because he thinks I'm dead and he's not exactly going to welcome back an incompetent spy who murdered his best Death Eater…

"Planet Earth calling Severus! Earth to Severus!"

Snape jumped and looked up in surprise.

"You all right?" Hermione said, frowning slightly as Snape scowled.

"I'm fine," he answered stiffly.

If one more person asks me if I'm 'all right'…

Snape's hand subconsciously drifted towards his wand as Hermione said, "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I said I was, didn't I? Or are you such a know-it-all that you're going to tell me I'm wrong about that as well as everything else?" he spat sourly.

"Who's rattled you cage this morning?" Hermione said in surprise.

"Hold your tongue, Granger," Snape hissed.

"Fine," Hermione responded, sounding somewhat confused. "Sorry I spoke, Sir."

A nasty silence ensued, each of them waiting for the other to start speaking first.

"What is it?" Hermione murmured at last, unsure as to the reason behind Snape's sudden outburst. Snape just glared. "I can't help you if you…"

"I don't want help."

"Well…" Hermione stopped abruptly as she took in Snape's ashen face and cold, glittering eyes. The Potions master somehow looked a lot less human than he normally did and Hermione took an involuntary step backwards.

"I'm rejoining the Death Eaters. Get out this instant and never come here again. At least they may be good enough to put me down, which is what you Muggles do to broken down animals, isn't it?"

"I beg your pardon!" Hermione said in shock. "You don't mean… you can't mean…"

"And why not?" Snape phrased the question in such a way that Hermione was stunned into silence.

"They tried to murder you!" Hermione choked out eventually, appalled. "They wanted you dead! They still want you dead! You don't want that. Not really. You're stronger than just wanting to die!"

"And you point is…?" Snape said coldly; indifferently.

Hermione shook her head, mouthing wordlessly. Snape watched her with detached disgust.

"I've got nothing to live for," he breathed dangerously softly. "Granger: go out into the world and do something with your life. You still can, so don't waste it like I did. As I said, I have nothing to live for."

"You've got this place," Hermione started in a wavering voice. "You've got people who care for you. You have Hogwarts. You've got me…"

"In case you haven't noticed, I hate my father's house. I do not appreciate people interfering with my life. I was sacked from my job at Hogwarts. And lastly, do you really think I care about a jumped up, temperamental Gryffindor know-it-all?"

Hermione looked like she'd been slapped in the face as she stepped backwards, her lip quivering.

"My point exactly," Snape sneered as he took in Hermione's mortified expression. Hermione turned around just as Snape drew his wand.

"I'm leaving," she muttered thickly. "I'm not coming back."

"Good riddance," he spat maliciously. Hermione flinched but walked determinedly over to the door. She looked back when she put a hand on the latch and opened it.

"If you ever want anything," she said softly just as a tear rolled down her cheek, "know that Hogwarts will always be open to you if you need it."

"I won't."

Hermione bowed her head, ignoring the fact Snape had his wand pointing at her chest.

"The offer is there," she said as calmly as she could, "for if you do change your mind. We won't judge you. Help is always given to those who ask for it," she added as an uneasy afterthought as she repeated words Harry had once spoken to her.

Snape smirked. "Stop quoting Albus Dumbledore, Granger."

"Stop running back to Voldemort to get your revenge or whatever it is you want, Severus," she said just as she slammed the door, tears running freely down her cheeks.

Snape coolly pocketed his wand as soon as he heard the distinctive crack which told him Hermione had Disapparated. He slowly pushed his wheelchair over to his store of potions. With no hesitation, he picked up the bottle of Antijury Draught and poured some into a small vial and placed it carefully in a deep pocket of his robes. He opened his wardrobe and drew out a rough, black cloak with a hood and a thin piece of white cloth.

Just as he was about to pull the mask over his head, he hesitated.

'…know that Hogwarts will always be open to you if you need it… we won't judge you… help is always given to those who ask for it…'

With a bitter sneer, he wrenched the mask over his head and pushed himself out into the darkening sky with only the faintest twinge of rapidly suppressed penitence as he thought of the towering walls and assured safety of Hogwarts Castle before Disapparating.

He failed.

The Half-Blood Prince tried again, and again, and again, but nothing happened. It just wouldn't work – you needed to be standing up to Apparate, and standing up was the one thing he couldn't do.

Fuming, Snape went back inside the house he had grown up in, and hated, and just waited. For a long time, he just stared at the magical, everlasting fire Hermione had conjured as if mesmerised. It was only when a coal dropped down in the grate and fell onto the hearth that Snape did anything at all. For the first time in living memory, Severus Snape started to cry.

A/N: So… What do you think? (Hint, hint…) That's Hermione's part over now, next chapter things start moving on faster again. I hope you're enjoying it so far though and more will be coming soon.

Also, before you all flame me and/or send me a curse in the post, you will see Snape's reaction to finding out he lost the use of his legs later. I don't want to tell you too much too soon...

To Be Continued!