AN. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. It amazes me how many of my readers have followed me from fandom to fandom. I'm so lucky to have you!
Since the recent release of HBP I've gone back and edited the first chapter to go a bit more in line with canon. I hope this does not discourage anyone from reading, but I will understand if it does. This story contains major SPOILERS for Book 6.
Chapter 2: Questions, but not many answers.
It was soon that time of the day again. Late evening when last minute visitors could be heard talking and shuffling down the corridors.
She tried to ignore them and their words as they passed by the door, casting oddly formed shadows on the cold tile floor of Severus Snape's room.
"Is he really in that room? Why are they allowing him to stay here?"
"He should be in Azkaban if you ask me. Coma or no coma."
"I heard there was a Muggle staying with him. What's wrong with her? Doesn't she know what he's like? That he's KILLED people for Merlin's sake!"
"Daft if you ask me!Or maybe she's under some kind of curse!"
Hermione grit her teeth. It was nearly the same every night as it had been for three long weeks. The hospital's visiting hours was over and everyone was going home, except her. She stayed twenty-four hours a day whether she was welcome or not, listening to their hatred.
They spoke ill of the man in the room and they spoke ill of her. No one asked how she was and if he was all right. They just assumed she was either insane or under a curse. Only one mediwizard had visited the room. It had been the initial diagnosis and he had not returned.
The mediwitches were afraid Severus Snape might awaken and murder them, so they acted as if the room was a contagious disease and stayed as far away as they could. They didn't care who sat with him as long as they didn't have to look at him.
The only one that stayed besides Hermione was an Auror. A middle-aged man who refused his name when asked by her. It was obvious he did not trust someone who would sit by a known murderer.
Meals were left outside the door, often found hours later when the soup was cold and the bread was stale.
Hermione had spent three long weeks, watching her former professor breathe, spoon feeding him soup to keep him alive. She used magic to change his clothes and bathe. She held her breath when nightmares plagued him, his hoarse cries piercing her heart. And she held onto the hope that the spasms, which rocked his body,would not kill him.
She had provided evidence for the Ministry of Magic to confirmthat this man was not evil. He had only done what he was forced to do. They had laughed at her, except Arthur Weasley who remained silent.They all thought she was a stupid girl who was going to ruin her chance at a bright future. She wanted to prove themwrong. She had to...
Things were out of her hands until he awakened. If he ever did. All she could do was wait, hope and pray that everyone could know what she knew and would believe the truth.
There was still so much more to understand. So many pieces of this complicated puzzle that were missing. She was determined to find them.
Who was the real Severus Snape? What sort of thoughts ran through his brilliant mind when he was conscious? What had he been thinking when he killed Albus Dumbledore? Had he felt remorse? Emptiness? Loathing? Release?
Hermione sighed. Rising from her chair by his bed, she moved to the window. She watched below as parents, children and couples left the hospital. Some Apparating, some traveling by broom. They lived normal lives and most were virtually unaffected by the war.
She envied them.
She didn't know how long she stood in the window, hand on the cool glass just watching, but it had grown dark now. She moved towards the lanterns in the room and called, "Lumos." They lit themselves, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. She turned toward her chair and stopped dead in her tracks.
Black eyes glared back at her, unblinking, and emotionless.
"Professor," she called without thinking.
Snape made no reaction and continued to glare.
They examined each other in silence for several moments. He reluctantly looked away from her and glanced around the hospital room. A deep scowl appeared on his long thin face.
Hermione's heartbeat quickened as she watched him. She had prayed for him to awaken and now that he was conscious she had no idea of how to proceed.
His eyes found hers again and this time they were full of hatred.
"Why am I alive?" he asked his voice hoarse from disuse.
Hermione swallowed. "It wasn't your time," she answered softly.
Surprisingly, the scowl on his face disappeared and he seemed tired and worn.
"Why are you here, Miss Granger? Why are you not celebrating victory with Potter?" The last word was spat bitterly.
She glanced down at her hands, which had begun to twist together in her nervousness.
"Harry and I aren't speaking, sir. And I am here because I want to be."
He snorted at her answer and then began to cough violently; his eyes screwing shut in pain as his body began to spasm.
Hermione was at his side in a moment, horrified as he thrashed on the bed that she could do nothing but, watch and wait. No mediwizard would come to help him, because none had come before.
The episode passed quickly, but it felt like years later. Snape was shaking, panting and sweat beaded and dripped down the sides of his pale face. The side effects of the unknown curse that hit him were weakening him as they had the last few weeks.
"Here for the show, Miss Granger?" he spat, breath still short, chest heaving. The features of his face were harsh, his black eyebrows lowered over his dark eyes.
"This is nothing I haven't seen in the last 3 weeks," she told him truthfully.
Snape's eyes widened.
Shepushed back her bushy hair, which had fallen into her face. She didnot know ifhis surprise wasdue to the length of timeor that she had seen him in this state before without his knowledge.
He was silent for a few minutes, contemplating. "Why am I not in Azkaban?" He started to rise from the pillow.
She lowered a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back, surprised at how easily he obeyed her, but remembered how weak he was. "You need to rest, sir. Who knows how long it will take for you to heal and you will need all your strength. No one knows what hit you." An underlying tone was there. No one cares…
He grunted at her, eyes flashing with hatred. She wasn't sure who or what the hatred was aimed at. He kept changing his emotions. Something unlikely for a person such as him. But then again after all that had taken place, she really knew nothing of what he was trulylike.
She gave a great sigh and sat in the chair by his bed again.
Snape watched her, his eyes gliding over her form. She looked thinner than he ever remembered seeing her. Her hair was even wilder, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Had she stayed beside him for three weeks? What would compel her to do such a thing? Especially after what he had done?
This was too much for him. He opened his mouth to bark at her to leave him alone. For her to go back to school or to her family, when he remembered that she had no family. He wasn't there when it happened, but he knew of the brutal murder of her Muggle parents at the hands of the Death Eaters. Targets because of her friendship with Potter.
She was without family at seventeen years of age and if her and Potter were not on speaking terms and if Mr. Weasley was not present….
The battle came rushing into his mind. The hexes being shouted, the cries, screams. He'd had to choose which one to try and save. Her or Ronald Weasley and he had chosen her. The curse had hit Snape and he remembered her cry as he fell toward the ground. She had tried to stop his descent and failed miserably. He collapsed on top of her, her arms around him as they crashed hard onto the dirt. He had seen Weasley go down and then world had gone black.
He continued to study her. She was being far too quiet. She normally had a billion annoying questions to ask him and yet he was the one doing all the questioning. He wondered if her silence was due to the losses in her life, but it wasn't until their eyes met again that something registered in his mind.
She was regarding him with admiration, slight fear and comprehension. Not a single trace of hatred was in her big brown eyes. He drew a large breath that rattled in his chest. "You know…" he whispered.
She nodded slowly.
He watched her, his eyes bored into hers. What exactly did she know? How much? The questions made him dizzy.
She looked away from his intense gaze. "They'll come now that you are awake. They'll set a court date." Her voice was full of dread.
"And they will send me where I belong," he replied without bitterness. "Azkaban." His voice grew quiet as he spoke the name of the wizard prison.
"I won't let them," she breathed softly. A vow.
The words surprised him, but he did not let that be known to her.
"I murdered Albus Dumbledore in case your memory has grown foggy, Miss Granger. I betrayed the Order of the Phoenix," he retorted.
"As part of the greatestdeception anyone has seen," she told him with admiration in her eyes. "You warned us of the upcoming attack. You gave Harry the last piece of the clue that he needed to finish off Voldemort. You…you saved my life…You killed Professor Dumbledore at his insistence, so that you could save Draco from becoming one of them. So you could continue to protect Harry!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" he shouted angrily. His heart was beating so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. She knew…Gods, she knew far too much. He knew first hand how knowledge could ruin.
The shout caused the door to bang open and the Auror stepped into the room. He was an imposing man, with light brown hair and green eyes. Tall and muscled.
Hermione was on her feet in a second.
"Finally awake, I see," he spat at Snape. "Pity for you."
Snape grit his teeth, forcing himself to calm his breathing and his pounding heart. He did not recognize the Auror, but the very site of him angered and frightened him at the very same time.
The man glanced at Hermione and acknowledged her for the second time since he had arrived three weeks ago. They had only spoken once before and it was not a pleasant conversation. "Are you all right, Miss?"
"I'm fine," she bit out at him.
"I told you it wasn't right for you to be here. I told you-"
"-I'm fine. We're fine. Please leave us alone," she interrupted angrily. "He needs his rest."
Snape blinked at her commanding tone. The young woman who stood mere feet from his bed looked nothing like the young girl he had taught at Hogwarts. She looked fierce. Her eyebrows were drawn low over her brown eyes; her wild hair flowed around her like a lion's mane. She appeared as a lioness protecting one of her cubs.
Snape could not understand her. Why was he she here? Why was she defending him?
The room was deathly silent for several minutes before the Auror moved towards the door, his hand gripping the cold silver metal knob harshly.
"That's not all he needs. You've been warned. I will not be held responsible if anything happens in this room."
Hermione did not reply, but continued to glare at the Auror. The man did the same to her, each watching the others move, until he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Snape was quiet as he watched her sit heavily in the chair at his bedside. There was no love between Hermione Granger and the Auror.
"There's a lot I'm still missing. Lots we have to discuss if I'm to help you. You'd better rest," she told him. Her voice had lost its bite, but nor was it soft or weak.
For the first time in his life Severus Snape did not argue. He realized there were things to be discussed. Many things indeed.
to be continued...