Chapter Sixteen
"Severus, Severus." A persistent voice broke him from his reverie. He snapped his head up to see all eyes on him.
"What?" he barked.
"What happened? Harry said that it was Moody that attacked Hermione," Arthur asked.
"I should probably take your statement," Potter said.
"Now?" Reliving the night's events was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.
"Might as well. I can get the Dicto-Quill out to record it officially," Harry said, reaching into his bag. Once he had everything set up, he nodded to Severus. Severus looked at him suspiciously and then began. He told them about the coming home to empty rooms, looking for Hermione at the party, the frantic search for her Apparation trail, finding her tied up in Moody's shack, and Alastor's disturbing confession.
"You just left him there?" Molly shrieked. Severus glared at her.
"Someone will need to be sent over to pick him up," Harry said. He shrugged his shoulders when Molly turned away, and for once Severus didn't feel the need to hex the insolent twit. He understood why Severus had left Moody there. Hermione was much more important.
"You said she remembered the first attack?" Ron asked. Severus looked over at him. He had said that. The implications of that hadn't occurred to him at the time. "Then maybe she'll remember everything else," Ron finished brightly.
Severus stared at him. He was hardly concerned with her memories at the moment. He cared more that she lived. She hadn't looked good when they had taken her away.
"Yes, maybe," he said. He tried not to think about anything other than her getting well. But if Weasley was right…he could not only have her well but with her memories. The nightmare of the last several months would finally be over. But she had to live first, and even that was questionable at the moment.
The rest of group latched onto this tidbit, and speculated and analyzed it until it was more than Severus could stand. Clenching his fists, he tried to block them out. They were there for hours. Molly tried to get him to eat something, but he pushed it away, too consumed with thoughts of Hermione to be able to chew and swallow properly. He thought about the last time Hermione had been in St. Mungo's…
"I want you to hand in your resignation. This cannot continue," he told her. She opened her eyes to glare at him.
"We have discussed this before, and I am not quitting my job, Severus Snape." By Merlin, she made an irritating patient. Actually, she was a damned irritating wife—constantly trying to get herself killed. Some days he regretted marrying someone with a hero complex, or heroine in this case. Not that he shouldn't have been forewarned from her escapades in her school days. He cursed at her. She reached out and grabbed for his hand.
"I'm going to be just fine," she said, squeezing his hand. Her voice was softer now. She was using her 'pacify Severus' tone.
"Maybe this time, but what about the next?"
"Severus, I am going to be fine. It's just a few bumps and bruises."
But it wasn't. If it was then she would be home with him, moaning and complaining as he applied ointment like he normally did. He argued with her then too.
"As long as I have you, I'll be fine," she said, her voice trailing off. He could see she was drifting off to sleep, the effect of so many potions. He held onto her hand, summoning a chair, and watched her sleep.
I'm going to be fine
I'm going to be fine
As long as I have you, I'll be fine
The mantra played over and over in his head, interrupted only by the sibilant hiss of someone calling his name.
"Snape? Mr. Snape?" a nurse called. Severus jerked. He must have fallen asleep. Looking around, he could see that Arthur, Molly, and Minerva had left. Dumbledore dozed in the comfort of his armchair while Potter and Weasley stood in the corner drinking coffee. They came over quickly when they heard the nurse.
"It's Professor Snape," he snapped, rubbing his stiff neck. These chairs were not the ideal place for sleeping.
"The Healer would like to speak to you now." He stood and she ushered him through the door. "You'll have to wait. Only family at the moment is allowed to see her." Severus smirked at that as Ron and Harry sputtered about being as close to family as one could get.
His minor triumph didn't last long however. He entered her room to see her lying tucked into bed, her face as pale as the sheets.
"Is she…?"
"She'll live," the Healer said. It was the same from before, Joan Trauth. A wave of relief washed over him. "But…."
"But what?" he asked sharply, spinning around to face her.
"She had problems with her memory before, correct?" Severus nodded. "I talked to Poppy Pomfrey about the relapses. They appeared to occur when she was under undue stress…" The Healer paused, her eyes straying from his own to a spot on the wall just behind him. It was the look his students got as they decided between a lie and a particularly troublesome truth.
He glared at her. "What?" he barked,
"Her injuries alone were extensive, but after hearing the events of last night…it sounded very stressful."
"Then she won't…?" He didn't finish the sentence, didn't want to speak the words out loud.
"Most likely not."
"But she'll live."
"We've managed to stabilize her. But she lost a lot of blood," she explained.
"You're giving her a Blood Replenishing Potion?" Severus asked.
"Yes. We'll need to keep an eye on her for a couple of days, but I'm confident that she'll pull through."
Severus nodded and turned from the Healer to Hermione. He heard the woman walk away. Then the door clicked shut and he was alone with her. Slowly, he sank into the chair next to her bed. Taking her hand in his, he marveled at how small it was compared to his own. He turned it over and brushed his fingers against her palm. She didn't respond, lying perfectly still in the bed. He paused at the ring on her fourth finger. Turning her hand back over, he inspected the gold band, rubbing his thumb over it. With a sigh, he leaned back and remembered the day he had first put it on her.
She was wearing gauzy white robes with pearly buttons all the way up the back. Her hair was pulled up into a complicated knot with flowers tucked into it, perfect but for a few wispy tendrils that had escaped and kissed the nape of her neck in much the same way he would like to. Her hands fluttered the way they always did when she was nervous, stilling only when he took them in his. And her bottom lip that had been caught between her teeth pulled free and curved upward into a warm smile as her eyes met his.
A few dozen people sat in the room, still a bit stunned to learn that it was not a party they had been invited to, but a wedding. Hermione hadn't wanted to hear the desperate pleas not to marry him, so they had kept it all a secret.
He responded at the right time, saying the right things, but he wouldn't know it later but for the fact that they were truly married. His attention was focused fully on Hermione and he was still amazed that she was standing here with him committing the rest of her life to him.
He almost missed his moment, and Hermione had to prod him into action, nudging him to take the ring from the magistrate and repeat the words as he slipped it onto her finger.
"I, Severus Snape, take you Hermione Granger as my constant friend, faithful partner, and my one true love. In the presence of these witnesses, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live."
"Sir, sir," a voice interrupted his thoughts. He twisted around to see, a curse on his lips, but it wasn't the Healer but a young woman, a nurse with frizzy brown hair and an upturned nose. She almost looked like Hermione except that her eyes were the wrong color, emerald green instead of cinnamon brown.
"What do you want?"
"I need to give her the next dose of her potion. And Healer Trauth would like to speak to you.
He nodded. Relinquishing Hermione's hand with great reluctance, he leaned over and kissed her knuckles before following the nurse out of the room.
"Professor Snape," Healer Trauth greeted him. A woman with a straight back and tight bun stood next to her. She was dressed in the lime green robes of a Healer and her name tag read Dorcas Egbar. She might remind Severus of Minerva McGonagall except that she was lacking any warmth in her eyes. "I wanted you to meet Healer Egbar. She is in charge of the Long-Term Spell Damage Ward."
She extended her hand. Severus stared at it and then looked her squarely in the eye and said, "No."
"We need to discuss the options available to you and your wife, Mister Snape."
"It's Professor Snape," he spat. "And I will be taking Hermione home with me as soon as she is well enough. I will brook no argument."
"And what if she is too ill for you to take care of her? What if she wakes up and remembers nothing, including you?" Egbar asked.
"Then you will have failed in your job, and I will personally ensure that you never work again," he said softly, edging closer as he tried to intimidate them with his height. Egbar's face screwed up in distaste while Trauth turned red and started sputtering.
"We are just trying to prepare you for all eventualities. We want the best for Mrs. Snape," the younger Healer tried to reassure him. He was not reassured.
"Can I see her again today?" he asked, changing the topic. In his mind, they were through with this particular conversation.
"Ye…" Healer Trauth started to say.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Mister Snape," Egbar cut her off. "Mrs. Snape will need her rest. You should go home, consider what will be the best for her rather than what will be the best for you, and come back in the morning."
"Fine, but I imagine my conclusions will be the same. And may I point out that all this will be moot if she wakes up and remembers everything. We are working with conjecture at the moment and nothing more. I will continue to hope that she will remember me and our life together."
He spun around and marched down the hall. He didn't stop until he was outside. With a pop, he Apparated to the front gates of Hogwarts. He stormed past students, ignored Flitwick when he asked how Hermione was, slammed the door to their rooms, and Summoned the Ogden's. Sinking into the couch, he poured a glass and drank deeply.
What if the Healers were right? What if Hermione never remembered? Despite his brave face and menacing threats, Severus was shaken to the core. Several hours and drinks later, Potter stepped through his fireplace. His hand twitched towards his wand but he was too drunk to care.
"They've taken Moody into custody. He was raving like a lunatic," Harry said with no introduction. He sat in the armchair across from Severus with no invitation.
"He is a lunatic," Severus slurred.
"Testimony from you and Hermione will be more than enough to lock him away."
"If she remembers," he grumbled. He reached around for his glass but ended up knocking it to the floor instead. It shattered against the stone flagstone floor.
"Evanesco," Harry said with a wave of his wand. The broken glass disappeared. "And what if she doesn't? What then? Will you chuck her aside?" he accused.
"No!"
"Then it doesn't matter," Harry argued. Severus scowled at both his accusations and intrusion into his pity party. "Merlin, you're pathetic."
This time Severus made a greater effort to reach for his wand. He had just gotten it in his hand when Potter's lazy Expelliarmus snatched it away.
"Go away, Potter," he sneered.
"Hermione hates it when you get like this," Harry said, making no move to leave as far as Severus could see.
"Like what?" Severus scowled. What was the idiot boy talking about now? His mind was too addled with alcohol to try and figure it out.
"This—" Harry motioned with his hand, pointing at Severus and the empty bottle of firewhisky—"Moping around and drinking too much. She would tell us, 'Severus is in one of his moods again,' and then she would wrinkle her nose and frown."
"She discussed our marriage?" Severus said angrily. If she wasn't lying in a hospital fighting for her life, he might have been angry enough to yell and shout. She knew he was a private man.
"She never gave us many details, thank Merlin," Harry said in an attempt to mollify him. "There are things we didn't want to know, and the less we heard about you the easier it was to pretend she wasn't married to you at all."
"She is married to me," Severus argued.
"I know, but how did you like it when she talked about me or Ron?"
"Not at all," he grumbled, but he marveled at the way she compartmentalized her life. How much had he missed out on because she felt she couldn't tell him things. He remembered Arthur saying something about lunches with her on a weekly basis and not knowing anything about that. What else didn't he know?
"I've got to go," Harry said, standing.
"Finally," Severus muttered. He had overstayed his welcome the minute he had arrived.
"I just wanted you to know about Moody, and you'll let us know the first thing you hear about Hermione?"
Severus nodded.
"And no more drinking for you. Hermione wouldn't like it," Harry said as he threw the Floo powder into the fireplace. Severus watched him disappear in a flash, and then looked down at his bottle of firewhisky. He was right; she wouldn't like it. It was a good thing he was already out then.
&&&&
He didn't make it to bed that night, staying on the couch and staring into the fire until his drunken haze faded into a restless sleep. He awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a new resolve. As much as he hated to admit it, Potter was right. Hermione wouldn't like to see him like this. He knew he didn't deserve her, but she had chosen him, for whatever reason, and he could at least do her the honor of working to be the man she needed. And right now that meant someone who was lucid and by her side.
And on sniffing himself, someone who was clean and didn't smell of stale whisky and body odor. He downed some Hangover Potion, took a quick shower, changed into fresh robes, and headed back to St. Mungo's.
She remained unchanged, still fighting to hang on, the nurses still coming in every half hour to tip any number of potions down her throat.
Severus sat at her bedside, her hand cradled in both of his. "I never told you the rest of our story," he said softly. "The part where you made me yours."
She didn't respond, laying there still and motionless. But he continued anyway.
After that first kiss up against the bookcase, Severus had led Hermione to the sofa. She had started out sitting next to him, but as each kiss deepened in intensity, he pressed her back down into the soft cushions.
She tasted like alcohol, and even as he continued to press kisses to her mouth, jaw, and neck, he wondered if she would regret this in the morning.
"What will you do now?" she asked when they paused to draw breath.
"Now?" At the moment, he'd like to kiss her some more.
"Will you stay and teach? Or work somewhere else?"
"No one but Albus is dumb enough to hire me," he said in a low rumble as she kissed her way down his Adam's apple.
"You could run away to the Caribbean," she suggested with a smile. He scowled at the thought of having to put on a bathing suit. He tried changing the focus from him to her.
"What about you? What will you do, Hermione?"
"I think I want to be an Auror. Any other job would be too boring after the last several years."
"I expect I shall be saving you again in the future," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"I look forward to it," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for another blazing kiss.
"Troublesome girl," he growled against her mouth.
They lay like that, kissing until she complained he was squashing her. A quick rearrangement of bodies and limbs, and she lay curled up next to him, her head on his chest, tucked up underneath his chin. He held her in his arms, rubbing her back and listening to her murmur nonsense about various and sundry.
He only noticed that she had fallen asleep when he tried to shift positions. He considered waking her up, but decided against it. She might regret it in the morning, but he wanted to enjoy the night with her in his arms. Hermione—his saving angel. He might never admit it, but he had been proud of her today in that courtroom, the way in which she faced up to the Wizengamot in his defense. He was thankful and the least he could do was let her sleep in peace. He drifted off to sleep, his dreams quiet for the first time in years.
"Oh," Hermione moaned the next morning, "my head is pounding." She lay nearly completely on top of him, her elbows digging into his gut and her hair tickling his nose and getting into his mouth.
"That is what happens when you drink too much, Miss Granger," he grumbled. That and other things like kissing your greasy ex-professors. His neck ached from the odd angle he had slept, and he reached behind to rub at it. There were reasons why people slept in beds and not on couches.
"You called me Hermione last night," she said with a pout. She sat and looked down at him.
"That was last night when we had too much to drink," he said, sitting up next to her. He tried not to look at her as he attempted to rearrange his robes.
"I'm grotty and gross," she said, ignoring his last statement. "Can I use your shower?"
He nodded and pointed to the bedroom door. "It's through there." He hoped she would shower and leave quickly. He had enjoyed last night, but with the garish light of day came realistic expectations—she would not be sticking around. After several long minutes contemplating the matter, he rose and went into the bedroom to change into fresh robes.
He stood rifling through his wardrobe when Hermione exited the bathroom. Severus turned around and watched her walk to the bed. He started to say something but then realized that she didn't know he was there. Standing in just a towel, her wet hair dripped down her back. She whispered some cleaning spells over her robes, and then to Severus' great surprise, (and pleasure,) she dropped her towel. Stepping further back into the shadows to avoid detection, he gazed upon the curve of her spine down to her round bottom. His eyes slid over her well-defined calves poised over slender ankles. She hummed a happy tune as she pulled on her robes.
Turning around, she buttoned them up slowly, giving Severus a peek at the fullness of her breasts. His breath caught in his throat at the sight.
"Can I see you tonight?" she asked, finishing with the last button and walking towards where he stood in the corner.
He nearly jumped out of his skin with surprise. She had known all along that he was in the room watching her—the little vixen! Her little display had been a private showing just for him.
It excited him—the idea that she would want him. But he wasn't sure how to proceed. How to go about this with the least amount of hurt? There was bound to be some. It was inevitable in all relationships, Severus had found.
"My refusal has never failed to stop you before," he sneered, but it was only half-hearted. She must have spotted the difference or didn't care because she leaned up to kiss his cheek.
"No, it hasn't," she said. "See you tonight."
He allowed himself to bring a hand up and brush his knuckles across her cheek. "Tonight," he said with a nod. She smiled a great big radiant smile, one that might have irritated him except that she had just kissed him. And then she turned and skipped out the door, only to return that night. And the next. And the next. Until she never left.
"I'm afraid visiting hours are over," a nurse said, sticking her head in the door. Severus turned and glared at her, satisfied to see her scurry away. He leaned forward and kissed Hermione on the forehead, brushing away a lock of hair first.
"Goodnight," he whispered as his lips brushed her skin. He would be back tomorrow. And the next. And the next. Until she came home.
&&&&
A week later, an owl flew through the window just as Severus arrived home. Albus had excused the Potions master from teaching and he had been spending most of his time at Hermione's side. Molly and Arthur had been at the hospital today as well and had insisted that he come home with them for dinner. Molly was a scary thing when food was being offered and the irritation he felt over the pressing crowd of never ending redheads had been a welcome respite from the worry.
Even still, he grabbed at the letter anxiously, earning himself a sharp nip from the barn owl. He brought his finger to his mouth, while he read the letter. It was from Hermione's Healer. She had woken up. Severus turned and went immediately back into the Floo.
He strode down the hall of St. Mungo's, his confident gait and swishing robes disguising the dread and fear that overcame him as he entered the Spell Damage Ward. Hermione's Healers had spoken to him twice more about extended care. And twice more he had ignored their exhortations. He searched around outside Hermione's room, but they were nowhere to be found. He caught a glimpse of the nurse from before coming out of another patient's room, the one who had reminded him of Hermione. He caught her eye as he reached for the door to Hermione's room. She shook her head, a sad sympathetic look on her face, in answer to his silent question. He nodded curtly back, then steeled himself. He could do this. He had to do this. He had made a vow seven years ago, "in sickness and in health," and he would honor it.
But what if she didn't want him? With a deep breath, he pushed open the door. Hermione sat on the bed, fiddling with her robes. She still looked pale, and she had lost some weight, but she smiled when she saw him. That was a good sign. Severus sat on the bed next to her.
"Hello. That nice woman out there told me my name is Hermione," she said, turning to look at him. "Who are you?"
"My name is Severus," he said. "I'm your husband." He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Would fate ever finish punishing him for his past crimes? He only wished that it was only him that they punished. Hermione didn't deserve this.
"I'm married?" she asked surprised. "I never would have thought."
"It surprised many, myself included," he admitted. They sat there in silence for several moments.
"You seem sad," she said. He looked at her, hiding his surprise.
"I am."
"Why?" How could he answer such a question? So forthright and simple, it cut straight to the heart of the matter, it was just like Hermione to ask such a thing of him. She never let him hide behind the fortress he had created for himself. She had broken through his defenses as a probing and relentless young woman, and even here in her confused state she insisted on playing the same role.
"I miss you," he said.
"But I'm right here," she said chuckling softly. She reached over and put her hand on his. He looked at it for a moment, before turning and grasping it firmly in his.
"I suppose you are."
"Hadn't you better kiss me?" she asked. He looked at her surprised. He didn't think she would want him around her at all, let alone kissing and touching her. But she looked so intent, that he leaned down, cupped her face, and brushed his lips against hers. She returned his advance by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
"I love you," she breathed as he pulled away.
"How can you?" he asked.
"You're supposed to say I love you too," she said sternly.
"I love you too," he conceded.
"Good, now take me home," she said in her normal bossy manner. He looked at her in surprise. When they told him that she didn't remember this was the last thing that he expected. She busied herself with organizing the potion bottles the Healer had left for her.
"Hermione," he said, coming to stand behind her. She didn't respond until he placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Oh, right, that's me," she said turning around. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded. Her face turned red and her hands fluttered nervously. Catching them, he held them in his own. "You're not going to leave me here, are you? The Healer said that might be an option, that you might be too busy to take care of me. I promise I won't be a bother. I can clean, and I can…"
He gathered her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest, angry that the Healer would discuss such things with her without him being present. He had vowed to take care of her in sickness and in health, to love and protect her. He wasn't giving up the one thing in life that made him happy simply because she didn't remember. He had survived the last few months, hadn't he? And so had she. And so they would continue.
She sniffled a little and he could hear her still listing things she could do to be useful to him into the fabric of his robes. He nearly chuckled at her insistence that she could take good care of his books. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, "Hermione, listen to me."
"Yes?" she asked, looking up. Her face was wet with tears, and she bit her lip in doubt.
"I love you and you love me. And nothing, I repeat, nothing is going to keep us apart. Do you understand?" he said in his best teacher voice.
"But I can't remember anything. I'll be a drain and a nuisance."
"Did the Healers tell you that?" he growled.
She nodded, her brow furrowing as she bit at her lip. "They said you wouldn't want me."
"Hermione, I highly doubt you will be a drain. You have always been a resourceful woman. You will find something to occupy your time. As for being a nuisance, you have been that since the first day I met you and I don't imagine that will change anytime soon. And I will always, always—" he repeated for emphasis—"want you," he told her.
Then he asked the question he had yet to ask before in their seven years of marriage, too afraid of what the answer might be. But he had to be sure this time. They had been given another chance and he wanted to do things right. "Do you want me?" he asked, stumbling a bit over the words.
She nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Yes!"
Severus sighed in relief as she buried her head in his chest once more, babbling about something.
"What was that? I can't hear you," he said, tipping her chin up.
"I said I knew I loved you. I had to, didn't I? I married you after all, and I don't think I would have married anyone I wasn't truly mad for. I mean I just wouldn't, so I had to love you. It made sense. You make sense." She was rambling as she was wont to do when she was tired, overstressed, and excited. He stopped her mouth with his, and her excited babbling translated into a passionate embrace.
"Then it's settled. Let's go home, wife," he said when he had left her breathless.
She nodded, letting him take her hand, lead her from the room, and take her home.
The End.
A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful beta Larilee! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! Sadly, the story does end here, though there will be a short epilogue later that gives a glimpse into their lives as they deal with Hermione's permanent memory loss. I hope you have enjoyed it, I know I have. Please leave a review either way, it's the only way I'll get better.