Mum's A/N: Sorry about the delay, but I was tied up with keeping Jocelyn sane before she went to take the Bar Exam. The exam is over now, and I think I'll be spending the next several weeks trying to keep her sane while she waits for results! So – thanks for your great patience and for all the comments and reviews

Joce's A/N: Yes, it's true, it was all my fault. On Sunday, our usual update day, I was at T Minus 48 Hours and starting to seriously freak out, so I'm afraid I made Mum vicariously stressed. Thanks to everyone who sent support and encouragement, and hope you like the new chapter!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hermione had always been under the impression that being dead wasn't supposed to hurt.

It certainly wasn't supposed to hurt this much.

So assuming that being dead was not supposed to hurt, it logically followed that she was not dead.

Although she rather wished she was.

She felt for a long time as though she were slowly drifting up and down in a sea of tar, and anytime she tried to rise out of it, it sucked her back down. She never stopped hurting.

Sometimes she was aware of nothing, nothing at all except darkness and pain, but other times, muffled voices reached her.

"You DIDN'T have to hex her!"

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't know!"

"Her allegiances were suspect; we had Potter's safety to think about…"

"…could have killed her, you bloody fools! Had she meant to harm the Order's paragon, she'd have done it BEFORE he killed the Dark Lord."

"Well, we wasn't to know, was we?"

"Bloody stupid…"

"Well, where the hell were you? D'you have any idea what we went through?"

"Don't believe him, Weasley, your boyfriend can't shield her from involvement. He didn't go willingly whatever he says now."

"Harry, she had no right—"

"Don't talk about her like that! Don't ANY of you talk about her like that!"

What it meant, she couldn't guess, and she didn't have the energy to really think about it.

Things that had already happened were happening again, and she couldn't stop it.

Cold, damp walls, the solid clang of a door locking her in, rough stone under her fingers…"Come back! Don't leave me here! Please, it's dark!"

"Hush, Miss Granger…it's all right. You're out of the cell. You're safe now."

Sometimes she felt something hideous throwing her to the ground, pinning her, hands clawing at her, its fetid, rank breath in her face, slavering fury… it was unfamiliar and vile, and she had no idea what it was going to do to her. "Stop, get it off! HELP ME!" She thrashed and tried to protect her face, expecting her flesh to be ripped from her at any moment.

"Don't, Hermione. He's dead. He can't hurt you. I've killed him."

But other times the hands on her neck were familiar, and accusations and demands clattered in her brain. That phantom hurt her more than the monster, for some reason, and she cried as she fought him, babbling, "I can't, I can't tell! Please, no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't!" And a soft whimper… "Remus…"

And someone calling a name… frantically… over and over. "Harry! HARRY!"

"I'm here."

After a time she couldn't measure, the blackness surrounding her finally began to ooze away, although she still ached and throbbed everywhere. She rediscovered her various limbs as stabs of burning pain shot through them. That was unpleasant. But some instinct kept urging her to find her way out of the dark sludge that filled her mind, and she fought it now when it tried to suck her down. There was something she needed to know.

Eventually, she was aware of a mattress beneath her back and a pillow under her head. The air was clean, no longer choked with smoke, sweat, and fear, and it was pleasantly warm and dimly lit. Drowsily, not quite sure where she'd been, Hermione turned her head and became aware of something, some presence, only inches from her face. That startled her, and she forced her heavy, aching eyes open.

All she could see was a dark blur, practically filling her vision, but it was disconcerting enough for her to cringe away.

"Hey, she's awake," said a voice.

Hermione turned her head and blinked several times until a rather hazy, floaty image of Headmistress McGonagall came into vague focus. She was too groggy to do more than watch as the witch came to her bedside. "Miss Granger? How are you feeling?"

"Wha' happen…" she mumbled, her tongue feeling very large in her mouth.

"You were hit with several different curses at Little Hangleton. The injuries were substantial, I'm afraid, but Madam Pomfrey pulled you through." The Headmistress frowned, seeing Hermione's confusion. "What do you remember?"

Grimacing, trying to pull her memories out of the soggy mess that was her brain, Hermione murmured, "Smoke. People yelling…Voldemort?"

"He's dead," said a soft voice, and a blurry red-haired figure appeared behind McGonagall. He gave her a weak smile. "It's over, Hermione. We won. It's all over."

The war. That finally made her remember. Panic seized her, clenching her stomach, sending pain shooting through her body. She felt like something was pressing down on her chest and she couldn't breathe and…

"Hermione!" Ron bent over her, grabbing her hand, and she cried out in pain. "Hermione, it's okay, everything's okay! Don't be scared! Harry told us what happened; it'll be okay now!"

"Har-ry… " she croaked. "Where… ?"

Ron blinked. "Harry? Hermione, he's right here."

"Uh?" she squirmed in the bedclothes with a grimace of pain, having trouble making her heavy body move. Ron motioned to the other side of her, and by twisting her neck uncomfortably, she managed to turn her head.

The dark blur on the other side of the bed was a bird's nest of tousled black hair. Only a few inches from her was a pale face bearing a famous scar, and eyes tightly closed, darkly circled with exhaustion. His cheek was resting on the edge of her pillow as he slumped from the chair he'd been sitting in, and one hand, she'd only just notice, was lightly touching hers on top of her blanket.

His name caught in her throat. "Harry?"

"Been worried sick about you," Ron said quietly. "Madam Pomfrey said you'd get better, and McGonagall promised you wouldn't… go anywhere, but he wouldn't leave. Not for a minute. First time he's slept in days."

Harry's face blurred in her vision as tears burned her eyes, but beyond him, further down the hospital wing, she became aware of another presence. A dark figure was standing there, watching her.

Severus.

He came closer to her bedside once she met his eyes. "I'm pleased to see that you are recovering." Hermione tried to speak, but nothing came out. Snape too looked exhausted and drained, but he, at least, was on his feet. His face was composed in the presence of the others, and Hermione couldn't begin to read what he was thinking. "You should sleep. Your body needs continued rest to fully heal."

She couldn't argue with that. With a bit more squirming and grunting, she managed to get comfortable in the bedclothes again without grievous injury to herself or her half-bedmate, and wound up facing Harry again. Her eyes burned again, and she covered his hand with hers. Harry sighed in his sleep, but otherwise didn't stir. She looked at Ron, who shrugged. "Been a bit of a wreck, that one."

"He…not hurt?"

Ron shook his head. "Few scratches, nothing much." He reached out and patted her shoulder. "Get some sleep."

When she woke up, Snape and Ron were gone, but Harry was still there. He was still leaning on her bedside, but resting his head on his folded arms this time, and when Hermione stirred, he looked at her. "Hey!"

She smiled, despite the sudden lump in her throat. "Hey. How're you?"

"All right. They said you were getting better."

Hermione nodded. "Feeling better."

He smiled at her then, and she couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears. "Harry… forgive… ."

"Don't, Hermione… please. I… I'm the one who... I figured out a lot of things while I was with Snape. You… were right, you see." He took a deep breath. "Right to… do what he wanted. I'd never have listened… was always so sure I was right. I never listened to anyone. If you'd tried to explain, I'd have wrecked it." Harry swallowed hard and met her eyes. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine. It's mine that you're… that the Order's…" he looked down again.

At his words, she stared at him, fearfully. "Will they… ?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!"

"And Severus… will he…?"

Harry shook his head. "There'll be a trial, I guess, because of Dumbledore's death." He paused. "You know, I'll have to say what I saw in the Astronomy Tower." Hermione began to cry again, and he reached over and took her hand. "But I'll also tell about him helping me kill Nagini, and that he protected me."

"He did," Hermione breathed, feeling as though a massive weight had melted off her shoulders. "He did?"

Harry nodded. "And I know you made him promise. He kept it."

Hermione sniffled and wiped her face. "Good," she squeaked. Harry gave her a weary smile. "Tell me… in the fight… I didn't see. Did we… lose anyone?"

Harry winced and looked away. "Yeah. Mundungus Fletcher, Hestia Jones, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. And a bunch of Aurors, but nobody we knew. Would've been worse, but a lot of the Death Eaters took off when Lucius Malfoy and Snape turned on Voldemort."

"Guess they knew a dead man when they saw one," Hermione said, allowing herself a smirk. Then she thought of Lucius Malfoy and gasped, "Draco?"

"He's okay," Harry assured her. "He's at Malfoy Manor, actually… burying Lucius." That thought made Hermione queasy, but her friend continued, "He's already been cleared of anything that'd put him in prison, but the Ministry hit the whole Malfoy family with a ruddy huge fine. Compensation or something because of all the damage they did after taking the Dark Mark; good thing Draco inherited his parents' money. He had to pay off his dad's debt and his mum's before they'd give him his dad's body."

"Does he have any left?" Hermione asked, feeling a bad taste in her mouth despite the fact that she'd no love lost for Lucius Malfoy or his fortune. It would be hard enough for Draco to survive in civilization as their son, still bearing the Dark Mark, without being left destitute by the Ministry.

Harry nodded. "Percy told Ron it's less than half of what they once had, but that's still more than the rest of the Order put together. And Malfoy paid the whole thing without blinking. Just wrote them the bank draft and walked off." His green eyes darkened suddenly, and Hermione remembered what she'd seen during the battle: what Lucius had done. No doubt Harry had a few new nightmares from having witnessed that alone. "Snape's with him… keeping an eye on him, though. He said he would."

"Good," said Hermione, with feeling.

The hospital wing door opened, and Hermione felt Harry tense. She glanced up, expecting to see Snape, but it was Ginny and Remus. They both hesitated on seeing Harry with her, but then first Remus, then Ginny came over. "She's a lot better," Harry told them, and there was an odd edge to his voice.

"Yeah, I see," Ginny remarked, and then Hermione knew the cause of Harry's tension. Ginny's manner was cool and impersonal, and something in her eyes hadn't changed since the last time Hermione had seen her: when Harry was thought to be in Voldemort's hands.

Well, what did you expect, you stupid twit? That she was just going to forget? You let them all think for three days that Harry'd been captured, killed, or worse. They're not going to just forgive what you put them through.

She was right, not only in Ginny's case, but Remus Lupin's as well. He was a little gentler than Ginny in his inquiries about her recovery, but the affection in his eyes was gone, at least what had once been directed towards her. When he looked at Harry, his expression was pained, which Hermione found odd, to say nothing of the stiffness in Harry's bearing toward the man who was his guardian in all but name.

Ginny excused herself quickly, and Hermione, Harry, and Remus exchanged a few more stilted pleasantries before Remus left as well. As soon as he'd gone, she turned sharply toward Harry. "What's wrong?"

Harry looked at her as if she were still slightly addled. "You know what." He scowled.

She bowed her head. "Listen, you don't have to sit with me all the time. I know how you all must feel about what I did…"

"Don't be stupid!" Harry exclaimed. "You did the right thing, the only thing you could've done, thanks to me being a bleeding idiot for so long. They're the prats for not admitting it!"

Hermione gaped at him. "You mean… you're… mad at them?" The dark look he shot at the door was answer enough. "But they were only scared for you… "

"They'd have been a lot more scared for me if you and Snape hadn't taken things into your own hands. They don't get it!" Harry hissed, trembling in frustration. "They're all as bad as I was, wanting to know everything, do everything, control everything, all the time! It wasn't about me and it wasn't about them… it was about the war! I didn't understand that until…" he broke off and turned away. After breathing heavily for a few moments, he whispered, "You did the right thing. If you hadn't, this war would still be going on. Nagini'd still be alive, Voldemort too, at least or at worst I'd be dead and you'd all be… you did what you had to do. Just like Snape. Just like Dumbledore. They have to understand; I'll make them understand."

A lump in her throat made it difficult to talk, but she felt that she had to say something to ease all this. It was just another burden of guilt on her. She'd disrupted everything for everyone by helping Severus take Harry, and the ripples in their lives would never stop. Distrust, worry, confusion… it spread out and out, hurt and fear and blame, and she'd been the one to throw the pebble in the pond.

"Try to understand them," she whispered around the tightness in her throat. Harry looked at her. "You… you weren't here, you don't know… what they went through. I couldn't tell them anything, anything at all… and I know it was for the best, that's why I did it, but all that was left was for them to assume the worst!" She grabbed his hand. "I was scared, you know, wondering if you and Severus were safe, if his plan would work, what would happen to me if you never came back. I was more scared than I've ever been in my life. But I wasn't half as scared as they were. Harry, they thought Voldemort had you!"

But Harry, her stubborn, single-minded, headstrong friend, would have none of it. "Then they should blame me, not you. I told you: it wasn't your fault. It was mine." He dropped his forehead onto her pillow. "I've been sitting here two bloody weeks just to make sure they don't get it into their heads to haul you off to Azkaban."

Hermione's stomach lurched. Harry's head shot up. "Oh bugger, I shouldn't've said that."

"Azkaban?" she croaked.

"They're stupid," he said flatly. "Moody and some of the others think you have to have a trial to bloody prove what everyone already knows. You're not a traitor for doing the right thing; nobody got hurt, and the war's over thanks to you and Snape. They can't try you for seeing what I didn't want to; I won't let it happen."

Hermione tried to look as if she believed him.

For at least a few days after she returned to being consistently awake and coherent, however, Hermione had a legitimate distraction. When she first tried to get up out of bed, she had the acutely embarrassing experience of winding up in a heap on the floor, having not managed even to make her legs hold her weight.

If Madam Pomfrey was among the Order members who still thought Hermione should be punished, she hid it behind her usual Healer sensibilities. "Your system took a severe shock, Miss Granger; you were hit with at least half a dozen hexes, some of them quite powerful. There is no lasting damage to any single part of your body, but you will need to return to normal activity slowly."

Hermione had half-expected that Harry was dissembling when he insisted that he bore Hermione no ill-will for what she'd done to him; surely the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Bear-Legendary-Grudges would remain at least a trifle irked with her for taking his life and his freedom into her own hands… and handing it over to Snape.

But whatever had passed between Harry and Snape… or Harry and Voldemort… had changed her friend quite a bit. He stuck to her side with a determination that was impossible to shake and would hear no ill word against her. Truth be told, that frustrated Hermione a bit because she rather wanted to know what the Order was contemplating… but if anyone wanted to have a little chat with her about her actions, Harry's presence made it nearly impossible.

Then again, maybe he really hadn't changed that much. He still yelled.

One morning a few days later, Hermione scooted herself to the edge of the bed and stared at the floor in trepidation. She had Harry on one side of her, Ron on the other, and Madam Pomfrey was hovering protectively in the background. "Ready?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Here we go," said Ron, and the two boys hauled her to her feet. Her legs shook something dreadful, and pain in her joints made her hiss, but with them supporting her, she stayed upright.

After they were satisfied that she wasn't going to pitch over, they made their wobbly way out from between the beds, then up and down the hospital wing a few times. Gradually, her shakiness began to subside, and she felt a bit more confident. "There," said Madam Pomfrey with satisfaction. "You're doing very well, Miss Granger. Do not overdo it, however."

Unlike a certain stubborn boy… on either side of her… Hermione was more than willing to heed the Healer's warning. "Right," she grunted. "Let's go down to the doors one more time."

They did, and Harry and Ron's grip on her was fairly perfunctory at this point; she could walk, albeit slowly, entirely on her own. She even managed not to trip herself when the doors opened in front of them.

Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, and when he saw Hermione, he bared his teeth. "Well. Now that you're up and around, Granger, you should be able to answer some questions!"

It was quite obvious that a simple clarifying chat wasn't what he had in mind. Hermione's knees buckled, and she stumbled instinctively back, then fell because the attention of Harry and Ron was on Moody. "Get off it," Harry said tightly. "Your sodding questions are already answered."

Ron glanced sideways at Hermione. He might not be as bitter towards her as Ginny or Professor Lupin, but he'd still been hurt that she'd let him think for all that time that Harry was lost. Unlike Ginny and Lupin, however, he seemed to have forgiven her, if only for Harry's sake. He'd killed two Death Eaters in the heat of the battle, not to mention that his had been one of the curses that collectively almost killed Hermione, and seemed to just want a little peace now that the war was over.

Whatever demons Harry carried from the battle, timidity wasn't one of them. He was face-to-face with Moody, fists clenched with his wand in one of them, but Moody was one of the few not intimidated by the Killer of Voldemort. "Girl's going to answer for what she did, Potter, even you can't protect her forever! You don't just abduct people and get away with it!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione shouted when he would have brought his wand to bear. She tried to get up and grab his arm, but to her intense frustration, her legs wouldn't hold her.

Ron helped her up and began firmly moving her back to her bed. "May as well leave it. You won't distract either of them."

"I can speak up for myself," she muttered.

As Madam Pomfrey was doing some Strengthening Spells on her legs, she said quietly (as Harry and Moody continued bellowing at each other in the doorway), "You will eventually have to, my dear. However successful your gambit, the Order and the Ministry have harsh attitudes toward solitary actors, particularly those who conspire with others of suspect loyalties." She gave Hermione a somewhat reassuring smile. "I do expect you'll be cleared of any wrongdoing in the end, although that may not mollify Alastor and the hardliners. Severus remains under heavy suspicion in their view."

"Will he be tried?" she asked.

"Possibly," said Madam Pomfrey. "Although Albus's portrait now insists, as you and Harry do, that Severus acted on his orders. If further proof can be found… non-testimonial, that is… the Wizengamot will probably dismiss."

Hermione leaned back in her bed and sighed. She hadn't seen Severus since the day she'd first awakened. That was for the best, she told herself; she and he were under enough scrutiny as it was that any conversation between them would probably be grounds for further suspicion.

So it made sense for Severus not to talk to her. Yes, perfect sense. Everything that man does makes perfect ruddy sense. Kidnapping Harry, spying on Voldemort and doing whatever filthy deeds he wanted, killing Dumbledore, using me as his bloody errand girl—ruthless, bloody, brutal, perfect damned sense!

Moody had gone, and Harry was stomping away from the doors in obvious pique, but Hermione suddenly didn't feel like talking to anyone. She turned over and tried miserably to get to sleep.

But, typical of him, Severus wouldn't leave her alone even then.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"There is no need to discuss it. It is of no consequence. If there is nothing further about the attacks…"

"I assumed that it was your way of attempting to establish control over me. So that I'd listen to you about Harry."

"I do not need to use a kiss to control a silly little girl."

"And you will refrain from becoming involved emotionally with Draco."

"Draco? First Harry, now Draco. What gives you the right to tell me who I should associate with?"

"His allegiances are questionable. Until we are sure where his loyalties lie, the situation must be handled carefully. And he is vulnerable right now."

"Well, don't worry. I won't break his heart. At least he has a heart to be broken!"

"You should do that in front of Snape next time."

"In front of… why, for heaven's sake?"

"Because he told me not to get involved with you."

"He told you what?"

"Yeah. Warned me off you."

"Draco, he told me the same thing! Not to get involved with you. What is he playing at?"

"Don't you know? He's jealous, Granger."

"You didn't think twice about it, did you?"

"Yes, I… ."

"Joining the Order when you are already working against them in secret, with the man who is wanted for the murder of the Order's leader!"

"No! I just… ."

"You are not bothered in the least by the fact that you've already betrayed the Order to whom you've sworn loyalty!"

"That's not true!"

"You're not only disloyal to the Order, but to all of your friends as well… Potter, Weasley, and Lupin!"

"Stop!"

"You little hypocrite!"

"Potter will rush blindly into death itself without once considering the danger to those he takes with him! And Weasley will blunder in right behind him. But you should have the common sense to get out of the way of Potter's stupidity!"

"You're wrong! It's the fact that he cares so much about his friends that drives him to take the risks he does. And I will be with him, and support him...no matter what!"

"You are not a child. Potter and the others may well be, but you are not."

"Are you so sure or are you just saying that to excuse yourself for kissing me?"

"It would not be the first time I have made a grievous error in judgment. But you? Do you not consider yourself a woman capable of controlling her own destiny?"

"Funny how you turn things back on people."

"You asked for it."

A few more days passed, and she still saw no sign of Severus. But truth be told, as her less-than-pleasant exchanges with him continued to echo in her dreams, she found she was glad of that.

Funny how he turns things back on people.

Severus Snape was a master manipulator; she supposed she'd always known that, but it hadn't truly struck home until now, when the crush of danger and secrecy was lifted and she could see the past few months with clear sight.

And she didn't like some of what she saw.

One minute I was a silly little girl, next I was a hypocrite, and then I suddenly wasn't a child. You'd think he wouldn't waste time with someone who had as many personalities as I evidently did. She scowled into her pillow.

It was for the war, she told herself furiously. For the Order.

But then a little voice whispered into her brain, Not for you. Not one thought for you, even when things got… complicated. Perhaps that did mean something to him, but it was for his own pleasure. Not yours.

He'd been a brilliant, ruthless spy. He'd probably saved all their lives, in the end. He'd certainly saved Draco, and at the very least, his decision to abduct Harry and go rogue after Nagini had brought the war to a quicker end than the Order as a group would have managed. He'd done things that other people couldn't do. Wouldn't do.

So why did she feel so bitter towards him? Why did she feel so… so...

Used?

Neither her pillow nor the hospital wing ceiling gave her any answers.

She was getting stronger each day, although there were residual effects from the malignant magic that had coursed through her body. The most embarrassing was the tendency of her legs to suddenly wobble in different directions, leaving her scrambling to keep her balance. Madam Pomfrey assured her that with continued therapy, her legs would strengthen and the weak spells diminish. Putting her formidable will to the task, Hermione recruited almost everyone who entered the Hospital Wing to walk with her. Harry was always there, and Neville came in frequently, and Ron, providing her with continuous support.

In a few days, Hermione expected to see Draco. The funeral rites for his father had been quietly and quickly done, and he was now settling things at the Manor. A message had come from him that he would be returning to Hogwarts soon, and she was looking forward to seeing the Slytherin boy who had become a steadfast friend. In the meantime… she would walk. With Neville at one side of her, and Harry at the other, she began the familiar trip across the tiled floor.

The door opened, and Ginny Weasley walked in. She gave Harry a brief smile, and with a cool nod at Hermione, went to take a chair next to Susan, and watch their progress. Hermione sighed. Ginny had become no easier to be around as the days passed.

The thought caused a momentary lapse in her concentration, and Hermione's legs shook precariously. She threw her arms out, attempting to maintain her balance, looking like nothing so much as a newborn foal trying to stand. Managing to right herself after several seconds of wobbling, she looked up at her escorts with a grin. Both Harry and Neville burst out laughing, and she joined them, giggling at the ridiculous picture she knew she'd made.

A hiss cut threw their merriment. "Look at her. Giggling like this is all some kind of a game, like nothing she's done has changed anything. It's disgusting!"

Beside her, Susan turned pale. "Ginny, really…"

Harry dropped Hermione's arm so fast that she had to cling to Neville to keep from losing her balance again. He was stalking across the floor towards Ginny, and the expression on his face was unforgiving.

"I told you not to come in here if you're going to treat her like that. DON'T say something like that to her in front of me!"

Ginny was not intimidated. She stood up, so angry she was shaking. "Don't tell me what I can and cannot say, Harry Potter. I'm not the only one saying it!"

"Damn it, Ginny! This was not her fault, and…"

"STOP it! How can you keep on defending her, when…"

Hermione put out her hand, as if she could physically separate them. "Harry… Ginny… please don't fight… not because of me."

"It is because of you. You betrayed all of us…" Ginny's voice broke; she was practically in tears.

"I think you'd better leave." Harry's voice was cold. Hermione winced.

"FINE!" Ginny pushed past them to the door. She stopped and looked back at Harry. "If you come to your senses, you know where to find me." The door slammed behind her.

Neville helped Hermione back to the bed. She sat down and buried her face in her hands. Behind her, she could hear Susan crying, and Harry cursing under his breath.

"Hermione?" Neville spoke quietly.

She didn't look up. "Please… I'd like to be left alone."

Footsteps sounded, as they crossed the room, and the door creaked. When she was sure that she was alone, Hermione allowed the tears to come unchecked.

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Special Note: And now, dear readers, we present to you Coffee and Enmity, Jocelyn's companion piece to Tea and Sympathy, which shall reveal to you just what Snape and Harry were up to while Hermione was in the hot seat at Hogwarts! It is also under Jocemum's username, being posted tonight!