Published 26th of October, 2020
Ministry of Magic
Wizengamot, Arbitration Hall
From 11:40
Just a moment ago, Claudia and David had returned to the Headquartes and immediately came to Paul for advice, so Harry eagerly took the opportunity and slipped out, unnoticed. He run into the elevator, hit the nine and now he was pushing the button again and again, hoping the lift wouldn't stop at any Level.
The cabin went down rapidly and stopped with a strong jerk.
„Department of Mysteries."
Harry jumped out of the lift and ran down the narrow stone stairs to a gloomy corridor lit by torchlight. As he approached one before last, high door, he adjusted Auror's robes and took a serious, slightly pissed-off face.
More than once he found out that the Auror robes, shiny badge, determined step and serious expression on his face intimidated people more than facing the Minister of Magic himself, so he decided to take advantage of it.
The iron bolt was lifted, a sign that someone was in the Hall. He tugged on the door handle and pushed on the door, which opened hard and slammed against the wall with a bang.
The young girl sitting at the desk jumped up and made a large stain on the document in front of her.
"Amonaria" Harry nodded to her.
"Good morning, Harry! You surprised me! To enter like this, without ..."
"Do not mind me."
He marched over to the cupboards by the wall where were kept records of pending cases, material evidence, a giant Pensieve, books of criminal and ordinary trials procedures and robes for Wizengamot members, sets of quils, inks, rolls of parchment and cases register.
The girl looked at him in surprise, so he turned around, tapped the shiny badge with his finger and gave her a very serious look.
"My dear, I'm not here and I've never been here for anyone. I don't need to say why?" When she made a slightly scared face, he nodded. "Without my permission, you mustn't even think you've seen me here."
And, pretending he wasn't paying any attention to her, he opened the trial register drawer.
The documents from this month were of course at the beginning. All he had to do was move his hand over them for the date and number of the trial to appear on the spine of each dossier.
Feeling his stomach contract, he studied each of them.
A-N 24.2003 Augustyn August - Percival Eberhard - Trade data trade
A-N 23.2003 Wilfried Wild - Illegal Animagus
A-N 22.2003 Millicenta Gordon - Informations from Rose Cottage
Not yet daring to believe it, he pulled out the drawer even further and smoothed over the dossiers of previous cases. The rows of dates, names, and descriptions of the cases did not match what he had seen in the Archives, but he wouldn't have been himself if he hadn't been sure!
He checked until February and he swallowed loudly.
Gawain was not involved. There was no trial. Snape was not a murderer. Which also meant that Griselda most likely did not die a natural death.
"Great" he muttered as if to himself and closed the drawer with a loud huff.
He nodded to the young witch and only when he went outside, he wipe serious expression from his face.
When he flooed home for dinner an hour later, the world seemed so much simpler. He jumped out of the fireplace and immediately heard Ginny bustling in the library next door.
„Honey, I am back!" He exclaimed. "You ate? Will you eat? What's for dinner, anyway?"
Kreacher immediately arrived, helped him to sit down on a bench and began to run wild all over the kitchen, offering him food. Moments later Ginny arrived to the kitchen, too.
"And so?"
It must be typically feminine. He smiled slightly and patted the bench next to him.
"It's not Gawain. I don't know yet who in add to Roger and Paul is involved, but Gawain is not. There was no trial."
Ginny sat down heavily with a sigh of relief and showed him the book in her hand.
"Merlin, thank you! So we don't need the ghoul!"
Harry didn't even have to read the title to recognize one of the compulsory first-year books. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was one of the more interesting he had to learn then.
"Ghoul? You wanted ... your ghoul from the Burrow?"
"It's still there. If it could pretend to be sick Ron and the Ministry people fell for it, I thought ... he might as well ... replace Professor Snape."
There was a sense of sadness in Ginny's voice. The Weasleys treated their ghoul like a pet and became very attached to him. He could only guess what it would cost Ginny to sacrifice it and imprison in Azkaban.
He hugged the girl to him and hold her tightly.
"It won't be needed anymore. Since it's not Gawain, as soon as he comes to the Headquarters, I'll tell him everything and we'll get Snape out of Azkaban by law. And we'll send Roger and Paul there. And everything will be fine."
He really felt it. Knowing that he wouldn't have to get Snape out of Azkaban illegally, leave his job, even temporarily, and play with the law gave him wings. All he had to do now was make Hermione stop being nervous, start to relativise and restrain a little bit her healing outburst. Even if they didn't get him out today, he would be fine. He's just going to be cold one day longer and he's going to be hungry and he'll see the world in gray, that's all.
However, in the afternoon everything got complicated. After dinner Gawain was still absent, but Rich showed up (Harry had sent out him into the field this morning) and wanted them to go together to one of the recently discovered altars to look at the evidences. Arthur came over and started asking about Ginny, who had canceled today's Mind Healers training without any explanation. Barthy from the warehouse began calling them one by one for additional fitting of robes. In addition, he got the impression that Paul was watching him a little more often than usual. Every time Paul met his gaze, he forced a smile or turned his head to make it look natural, but while they were acting the same as always, there was a tension in the air that he could almost touch.
By the time they returned to the Headquarters with Rich before four o'clock, their boss's office was still closed.
Damn, what's going on ?! He could do something in the morning, but to be absent whole day?
Suddenly, he started to have doubts again as to whether Gawain was innocent.
Stop fooling around. Even if he was guilty, he wouldn't be hiding because of it! It must be something else.
Fifteen minutes later Barthy called Roger and Paul. Rich leaned back in his chair and handed him a not-so-good drawing of a wooden press that could be used to mould wax bones.
"In your opinion it may be? My daughter would have drawn it ten times better."
Harry looked through the parchment.
"It's great" he assured him. "Rich ... you don't know where Gawain is? I'd like to ... ask for a day off."
"You should ask me and if I agree, notify Gawain" Rich laughed. "Is that why you sit on your ass all day?"
"Of course not!" Harry pretended to be indignant. "Well? Where is he?"
"He was on vacation, although I didn't sign it. Will be back on Monday."
Goddamn world! Bloody goddamn world! And what now?
You can't wait until Monday! You can't wait at all! You have to do SOMETHING, and TODAY! In a dozen or so hours it may be too late!
Why is it always like this, that something you didn't anticipate happens ?!
So you have to invent a Plan C now!
First you have to get Snape out. No, not to get out, but at least postpone the execution! Gawain is not here, so you must go there alone. And don't even mention it to Hermione!
So you have to make a Regalium for her and for you!
"Mate, breathe or you'll suffocate" he heard Rich's voice and came back to reality.
"Oo-oh! It's okay" he blurted out quickly and smiled nonchalantly. Or at least he tried it, though it didn't seem to be very successful.
Rich had to think exactly the same.
"Stop fooling around and tell me what's going on. I can see that something is wrong."
He grabbed a chair and came close to Harry.
„Well?"
Harry hesitated for a few short seconds and gave up.
"Okay, but please don't tell anyone" he sighed heavily and lowered his head. "I have a problem. With Ginny."
"You had a row?" Rich asked, lowering his voice very much.
"No ..." Harry began to flex his fingers. "I have a feeling ... that ... You know. That ... There's someone else."
It was the best possible scenario. Something Rich would respect, wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't go to Arthur with it, and wouldn't chase Ginny. And that might explain both his strange behavior and his request for a vacation. Could explain anything.
Rich leaned over and patted him on his shoulder.
"Merlin! Harry ...! I don't know what to say ... If I can help you somehow ... just tell me!"
Harry nodded and smiled weakly.
„First, keep it to yourself. Maybe I was seeing things... So I don't want to fuss. And..." he looked pleadingly at his partner. "You can help. I have to be out of here for an hour. If anyone asks, say something… credible...That I was called on the carpet in personal department or ... whatever."
"Sure! Don't worry, I'll find something!" Rich promised solemnly, looking sympathetically at Harry. Roger and Paul didn't come back yet. It was the perfect moment!
Harry jumped up from his chair, grabbed his cloak, wand, badge and nodded.
"Okay, I'm going! Thanks!" And he went quickly out.
He needed an hour or so to make two Regaliums. He just had to lock himself up in the Workshop and hope that neither of those two would want to go in there just then. And if they wants to ...
Either way, you're screwed. As you pass yourself off as Head of the Auror Bureau, it's like casting a Stupefy on yourself atop the Astronomy Tower.
But why is this all happening to you?!
There was no one in the corridor, so he entered the Workshop as quickly as possible and closed the door behind him with a spell, just in case.
Making Regalium for Hermione was relatively easy - Harry got the impression that Dementors even liked to be asked for something and there was no need to add a lot of power to Regalium.
But it was completely different matter with DENYING them something they enjoyed ...
Ministry of Magic
Section of Regularization and Authorization
5:00 p.m.
Octavia had carefully gone over the thick list of orders over the past three months and had to admit that she was impressed. Frog eaters may have a tendency to do everything differently to the rest of the world, but their list was surprisingly much clearer and more logical than international standards.
It was obvious at first glance that some English manufacturers did not respect the quantity in the packages, so the warehouse workers in Carcassonne had to correct them on forms. Here and there were French comments on the order, not very difficult to translate, one of which amused Octavia in particular. "Tenth identical order in 2 weeks. Can't these Rosbifs * shit once and for all ?! ".
She reviewed all of Powell's orders, but nothing strange caught her eye. Apart from the regular English potion makers, she did not see anyone new, which dismissed the suspicion that Leoncius might have been ordering ingredients illegally as someone else.
She was very happy about it and she was sure Hermione would be happy too. After all, the idea of the Inspection was not about finding any shortcomings at all costs, but about being able to give an extra Drop with a clear conscience to those who wanted to develop.
As she set the list aside, there was a soft knock and the bushy head of Benjamin from Security Department appeared in the ajar door.
"Good morning ... Can I?"
"Of course, please come in." Octavia gestured toward the chair in front of her. "So, surveillance finished?
Benjamin nodded, sat back comfortably and rested his ankle on his knee.
"I could say that I succeeded at the last moment" a smile of satisfaction appeared on his freckled face. "But it is often the case."
The old witch frowned and gave him a questioning look, so he explained
„You were right about Granger and Kelly. That they are dating. Kelly came to her in the morning, they were hugged a bit, he fondled her, but there was terrible mess in the Clinic, so they made an appointment later."
Surprised, Octavia tried to find some simple explanation.
„Are you sure? Maybe it was ... I don't know, a random encounter?" She asked defensively.
„And during this random encounter she cuddled up to him, Kelly sait to her "my darling" or called her "beauty"? he shrugged. "It was in a public place so I'd rather say they tried to hold back so I didn't see anything more."
For a moment there was dead silence in the room. Benjamin smiled triumphantly, unlike the witch, frozen in disbelief.
"Well" she said finally and cleared her throat, covering her mouth with her hand. "Thank you very much. Write me a report and send it today."
The young Auror got up and put the chair back.
"Sure, I'm going back to my office so will write it immediately, I'll drop it off in a quarter of an hour. Goodbye. And have a nice day!"
As the door closed behind him, Octavia slapped her fist on the table.
"How could she? !"
She reached for a sheet of parchment and a quill, but before she could start writing a summon for Hermione to appear in her office immediately, she had to wait a moment and calm down, she was shaking so much with suppressed anger.
It wasn't going to be a nice day! Not for Hermione Granger, anyway!
Hermione's apartment / Grimmauld Place 12
Around 18:00
The girl came out of the fireplace, gently put the bag with potions on the table and for a moment fell down on the sofa, hiding her face in her hands. And she began to swing steadily. She would have liked to cry, but she couldn't. Not yet, though she felt the effects of a very strong calming draught slowly fade away and something heavy clung to her chest. By six in the evening, nearly thirty people had been admitted with symptoms similar to Danny's. Or Chase Griffin. And the same fate awaited everyone.
Danny finally died at four in the afternoon. „Finally", because there was no other word to express what everyone felt.
Hermione was the first to ask Mathias for calming draught, but very quickly all the rest of the staff needed it. Everyone sooner or later reached for a vial with a blue liquid and Hermione at some point thought that the calming draught would be missing any minute. And that there was no Severus Snape left to brew it.
When she went home, no one told her that she was a coward and she was running away from the nightmare, leaving it to her friends, but she read it from their expressions. And nobody knew that she was just getting ready to go to the other one.
Fortunately, she had everything planned yesterday. She remembered the best moments in her life so that she could cast a strong Patronus. She also found what she should say to Severus Snape, chose some of the most important potions she wanted to give him and, above all, prepared for what she would meet in Azkaban. The last time she had panicked, but this time she had promised herself that she would remain calm. She promised herself to console him, give him hope and not show her terror. After the visit she could break into a thousand pieces, but she had to smile in front of him.
Every Healer must be able to do this. It is not the patients who are supposed to console us, but we have to console them, no matter what their condition may be.
Fortunately, she planned it - because today she wouldn't be able to do it. She slowly got up, got warm clothes and plastic bags ready and Flooed to Harry and Ginny.
"Harry, Hermione is here" Ginny said, entered the living room.
The boy was sitting or actually lying in a large armchair and staring at the high ceiling. Hearing his girlfriend, he sighed heavily, pulled himself up and sat down and felt a little dizzy.
"Please bring her here. I would certainly fall down the stairs" he said with difficulty.
He had come home over an hour ago and when he miraculously got to the living room and sat back in the armchair, he didn't even know how he had come here.
The information in Regalium was nothing but his own feelings. He had to feel with his whole being what he wanted to convey to the dementors and then pull it out, using Adimotus spell. The feelings were like memories; they were a greyish mist that was placed in the center of a hollow piece of wood.
Making a Regalium for Hermione was not particularly difficult, although it was not easy for him to WANT to see the prisoner (he tried not to think about the fact that it was about Snape). He also had to deprive himself of some of his power to make the creatures obey.
But making the second Regalium almost defeated him. He withdrew from himself as much strength as he could and only hoped it was enough. He had never denied the Dementors a Kiss before, but he had heard it was infuriating them.
His Regalium was like a tree root twisted in all directions; when he poured his feelings into a simple piece of wood, he had the impression that the wood was exploding. Feelings swirled, spilled violently in all directions, the wood shrunk and twisted and Snape's mark carved on it became almost invisible, as well as four thick lines marking the number of days he had delayed his execution by.
And he was now struggling to muster his strength to travel to Azkaban and control a horde of angry dementors.
Hermione entered the living room and sat on the couch, tossing a swirl of colorful clothes next to her.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
She nodded and reached for the Regaliums lying on the table between them.
"This is for me?" She took an unbent piece of wood. "And the second?"
"I'll tell you when you get back. I don't have the strength to talk."
The girl jerked her head up and looked at him carefully with widen eyes.
"Something hurts you...?!"
"No. But I feel like a road roller has run over me."
Hermione looked at him a moment longer, then nodded her head.
"What should I wrap the potions in? The ones I need to take?"
„And what do you have to take?"
"Healing potion, pepperup, for pharyngitis, pain..."
"Too much."
"... refief and calming draught" Hermione finished, remaining deaf to Harry's comment.
"Too much."
"Not too much. What should I wrap it in?"
"In that brown paper" Harry pointed to the cube-shaped parchment. "But they will sense it."
"And so they will."
"It'll be better if you leave something here."
"Do you have a cloak? Winter cloak?"
Ginny listened to their conversation and suddenly felt that they were both in the same state. As if they had reached the edge of something and were barely holding on so as not to fall into the abyss. Why did Harry feel that way, she already knew, but Hermione?
„ ... gerk downstairs. Why do you need it?"
"Because I want to give it to Severus Snape. Ginny, can you give it to me?"
"Of course!" The redhead wasted no time running downstairs, only cast "Accio Harry's Cloak" and seconds later she grabbed a thick black cape that flitted towards her.
Hermione wrapped several times the parchment around the bag of potions. Then she dressed second pair of trousers, red wellingtons, pulled on the fleece and two thick sweaters and put on two large woolen cloaks – Harry's and hers.
She would just look ridiculous if it weren't for the expression on her face. It showed terrible weariness and wild determination. She tucked the package under a layer of sweaters, gripped Regalium and her wand in her hands and nodded her head.
"I will be back soon."
And she left without waiting for an answer.
"I have a feeling there is something wrong with her" muttered Harry.
"You know, I wish I could disagree with you" Ginny muttered.
North Sea, Azkaban
A moment later
Hermione appeared just in front of the great wall and, resisting the strong gusts of wind, she moved towards the narrow crack. Before she entered, she whispered "Lumos Maxima," took big gulp of sharp salty air one last time and plunged into the dark corridor. She felt immediately hopeless and an unbearable weight pinned her to the ground, but at the same time some part of her soul remained calm. It was as there were two Hermiones inside of her and the despair didn't touch the second one. Probably because the potion still works for a while.
Since the power of Patronus depended largely on how strong the good feelings the wizard had at the moment of casting the spell, the girl focused with all her strength on the memory of the victory in the Battle of Hogward. She gloated of joy, triumph and overwhelming relief for a moment, let her feelings displace sorrow and pain and then she said aloud:
„Expecto Patronum !"
A shining otter burst from the end of her wand and immediately made a few crazy circles around her, practically rubbing against Hermione. Its glow brought out of the gloom rough walls of a lackluster color. The girl reached for her Patronus and the Otter froze, then went down the muddy corridor, clearing her way.
This time six dementors were waiting for her. The stench they were spreading was practically choking her.
Calm. Keep calm.
The Otter slowed and Hermione run into it - its touch almost burned compared to the cold radiating from the dementors. Shining her wand she found a flat stone, placed Regalium on it and quickly backed away, wrapping both capes around her tightly, just in case. It was completely irrational; the soft wool could not hide the magic in any way, but at least she had the illusion that she had done everything in her power to bring Severus Snape potions.
The first dementor moved towards her, reached for the piece of wood and held it for a very long moment. At the same time Hermione felt as if he was looking in her direction and her sense of confidence was instantly fell off.
Merlin, please. Let him not sense anything. Merlin, do something, please...
She clearly felt her hair stand on end. Maybe Harry was right? And you should have taken less potions? And now you won't even get in there! And everything will be lost!
Abruptly, the dementor leaned over her, Hermione choked the putrid air that nearly paralyzed her mind, but before she could scream, a glowing Otter jumped out in front of her and separated her from the creature.
Dementor jerked back to the very wall and moved its hand to point at the stone. Oh God, thank you!
Without taking her eyes off dementor and trying to keep the Otter in front of her all the time, Hermione walked over to the stone and pulled the book not even looking at it.
Since Harry didn't say who she was supposed to be this time, Hermione signed "Klaudia Hopkins" once again, a bit clearer, cast Statis Patronum and laid down her wand with a loud click.
As she raised her head, the dementor arrived with a torch and stuck it into the recess in the stone. Holding back her disgust, the girl took it in the same place and followed the creature.
.,.,.
Running a trembling hand over the uneven damp wall, Severus tried to find the trickles of water that were dripping down it. In his feverish mind all he could hear was soft murmur of water. The soft noise, that had been so terrifying at the very beginning of his stay in this coffin was the most wanted sound in the world right now.
His fingers found trace of drops and he immediately leaned towards it, pressed his lips against it and began hastily to lick the cold moisture, sliding lower and lower until he fell to his knees.
The water tasted of bitterness, but he didn't care.
He had heard a lot about cells for prisoners sentenced for Dementor's Kiss and if he had any doubts that this was where he was now, he would have understood ... maybe it was yesterday, maybe an hour ago, or years ago. He didn't know, and it didn't matter anymore.
The creatures came to kiss one of the prisoners nearby. A whole herd came and the terrifying howl of the man whose soul was being torn from continued for so long that Severus finally gave up.
He had no idea when they would come for him, suck on his lips and suck out the remnant of human dignity that still rattled in him, but he didn't want to wait passively for it. He just wanted to close his eyes and die. Now. Before he gives up completely and ceases to believe that he deserved even such a death, not the eternal life of a plant.
Therefore, from that moment on, he stopped eating the miserable scraps of something that he had never seen, but found by smell. Sometimes they were dry and in the same time wet slices of bread, sometimes bland pieces of raw fish or meat, once he even found pieces of carrots.
But hearing the water trickling down the wall, he couldn't fight with thirst that racked his whole body and soul.
After he had licked everything, he started looking for the other drops. He heard them, but he didn't know if they were there.
Suddenly desperate cold came and enveloped him tightly.
Did they come to me?
He turned and saw deep darkness brighten and he heard a kind of squishing or plopping approaching with each sound like that.
The glow that emerged from behind the wall shocked him completely, so he shaded his eyes and continued to listen. Apart from howling, screams and running water, these were the only sounds he could hear here.
The squeak of iron bars made him feel sure they had come for him. He didn't know anymore if he was afraid or wanted it, so he didn't even move.
And then a strange warmth flowed with the light, pushing away the misery and pain and at the same time he felt a touch on his shoulder and heard a voice. Which seemed to him the most beautiful music in the world.
„Professor ...? Sir, it's me. Hermione Granger."
.,.,
The girl pushed the feeling of disgust out of her mind, cut herself off the stench and dirt and held back a groan of horror at the sight of the terrible state of the man standing before her. She looked behind the bars, where she saw ragged robes fluttered, set the torch aside and quickly took garbage bags from her cloak pocket and spread them on the ground.
"Please sit down. Here." She grabbed Severus Snape's hand and pulled him down softly.
He collapsed to his knees helplessly. He didn't understand what was happening, but he didn't care. If it weren't for the pain in his legs, he might have thought this wasn't really happening.
With one sharp movement the girl unbuttoned the cloak, threw it over his shoulders and wrapped around him tightly.
"It will keep you warm" she said softly. "You will feel better."
Severus felt no warmth, but something heavy on him. Heavy and smelling wonderful. A stunning scent of flowers, butterflies and sun.
Hermione took off the other cloak, covered him with it and helped him sit up and lean against the wall. The Otter, as if reading her mind, stood right next to him, from the side of the bars.
"Watch it" Hermione whispered to her Patronus, glanced down the corridor and hastily pulled out a packet of potions from under her sweater.
As soon as she pressed the first of them against his chapped lips, Severus Snape yanked her hands, almost stuck the vial in his lips and tilted it so greedily that he choked.
Water, finally water!
„Calm down... Calm down..."
When Hermione realized that there was a man dying of thirst in front of her, something about her howled and only with the utmost difficulty she managed to control herself. Hold on. A bit longer. If you loose your minds here, you won't help him.
As soon as she uncorked another potion, she knelt beside him and, pushing his hands away, poured it into his mouth. And another one. And next. And the last one. The sight of the steam blowing from his ears almost made her feel like crying. It had always struck her as ridiculous, but now it was just pathetic.
„You will feel better now, Sir. Nothing will hurt you. Now it will only get better."
Her monotonous voice sounded like ... Sunday morning. When he was still a child and his father hadn't started drinking yet.
The girl began to rub his shoulders and chest hard and his chilled body began to warm up very slowly. But it didn't make any sense. She will be gone in a moment and the horror will be back again.
"I wanted to tell you ... that all these people have recovered ... Do you remember, sir? Those Muggles who ... we saw on TV …" Hermione tried to sound reassuring, but her voice was breaking more and more. You will howl when you get out of here. Now get a grip. You're here for him. "So the Muggle doctors found some way ... to heal them. They're fine. Everything is fine" something crashed her throat and it was a moment before she could speak again. NOTHING was fine, but she couldn't tell him what was happening. For now, she had to deal with it alone. „Everything's fine."
Severus opened his eyes, glowing with fever.
"Don't heal ... me" he whispered.
Hermione froze; she had even stopped rubbing his shoulders.
"S…sir?"
"Don't heal me. Stop."
"No" she interrupted abruptly. "I have to help you!"
"You don't have to..."
"I Want! I want to help you! You'll get better, sir. We'll free you out of here! Soon!"
His chapped lips seemed to curve in a grimace.
"It is impossible."
"Of course it is possible! I came here! I did it! I found you! And I promise I'll get you out of here!"
Severus pushed the words away. He had already chosen his way and he didn't want a moment of weakness to stop him.
"It doesn't make sense anymore. Stop it. Let me die."
Hermione's heart tightened. Merlin, how she could save him when he had already given up ?! He had to hope! She had to make him want to live again! She had to make him believe and hope !
"Sir" she pronounced in a hardly choked voice. "You can't give up! Not now! I will do it! Please, don't...! Severus shook his head slowly against the wall.
„It does not make sense. Nothing makes sense anymore" he whispered and closed his eyes.
"I don't believe it" the girl groaned. "You can't say such things! Not you! You always endured everything! Always! Where is the man who never gave up ?! Who lived a nightmare for so many years and never broke down ...?!"
There was a moment of silence as she tried to breathe deeply to control herself and he searched for an answer.
"He is gone on."
Hermione burst into tears, curled up and rested her head on the woolen cloak. The man on the ground made no gesture to comfort or even answer her. As if he was actually gone on.
You MUST get him out of this. You MUST make him Come Back.
There was only one way..
"Severus" she whispered, crying and wiped her nose and eyes with her sleeve. "Severus, look at me."
Slowly his eyes opened and she saw the shock in them.
"I promise you. I won't leave you here. If not tomorrow, you will leave the day after tomorrow. I promise you this for my own life."
Apart from the shock, she suddenly noticed dozens of other feelings that he had to suppress in himself so far.
"Nothing can stop me. Believe me. Please say you believe me."
The Otter almost cuddled up to him and somewhere in his heart hope sprouted and he felt ... a relief.
"It all makes sense" Hermione whimpered and her hands tightened on his shoulders. "Everything will be fine. Just please, tell me you believe me."
He stared at her tear-stained eyes for a moment longer, then nodded slowly.
"I believe you."
The girl slumped almost limp on his shoulder and felt a weak grip on her elbow.
"Thank you" she whispered.
Neither of them had any idea how much time they lasted or who was comforting whom. But suddenly they heard squeak of iron bars and the Dementor appeared.
Terrified, Severus Snape grabbed Hermione's hands desperately, pulled her against him and at the same time tried to push away as if he wanted to stop her and didn't want to at the same time. Hermione returned the hug.
„I'll be back! Believe me. And fight, I beg you, fight!" She squeezed her hands, then tore away and reached for the torch.
After she left, the dementor slammed the iron bars and moved down the narrow corridor. Hermione looked one last time at the trapped man, said "See you tomorrow!" and ran away. She didn't want him to hear her cry.
.,.,
Darkness fell again. For a long time, Severus could still remember the image of the young woman standing on the other side of the bars. He didn't even have to close his eyes.
Slowly, clumsily, he felt around already soaked slice of bread on the ground, returned to the crumpled foil and wrapped himself tightly in cloaks. There was still sadness all around, but as he pressed his face into his clothes, he felt the flowers, butterflies and sun again.
.,.,.
"Harry, you must free him" Hermione whimpered against the pillow she held against her. "Tomorrow. Or even today."
Harry leaned over the chair and patted his friend on the back.
"I'll take care of it. Not today, today is too late, but I'll take care of it. I promise."
Ginny sat next to her, stroking her back comfortingly.
"What happened?"
"He has nothing to drink" Hermione sobbed. "He will die there. He's already given up! Understand?! He-gave up!"
Seeing as the girl hid her face in the pillow again and only from her trembling shoulders one could tell that she was crying, Harry decided not to tell her about his imminent trip to Azkaban.
"He will survive" he assured her. "He's strong, he'll definitely survive."
„You do not understand!" Hermione burst out. "He's not the same man we know! It's not even human anymore ... Just a sign. Without dignity... and without hope."
The boy was about to say something when Ginny raised a hand to stop him.
"Anything else happened? You were in the same state even before you went to Azkaban."
Hermione nodded.
"That poison I told you about. It spread in our world. From the morning, there are a lot of people who have the same symptoms as Muggles. In the afternoon a little boy died in the Clinic ... and till now probably others ..."
Harry and Ginny both stopped moving.
"That's why you have to free him out as soon as possible" Hermione added. "Only he can stop it and..."
„You know how they got infected?" Harry interrupted her.
The girl shook her head desperately.
"I don't know ... But ... I'm afraid that ..."
"That it's not a coincidence" Ginny finished for her.
"Oh, shit."
Hermione stood up and wiped her puffy eyes.
"Do whatever you can. I'm going to the Ministry tomorrow, I got a summons from Octavia. I suppose the Carcassonne order list has finally arrived. Maybe this is how we'll find the murderer."
"Of course" the boy replied with sudden conviction. "Come in here at noon tomorrow for news. Now go home and get a good night's sleep."
The girl shook her head, picked up her wand, and started down the stairs.
"I can not. I'm going back to work."
As the front door clicked, Harry spoke up.
"I'll try to get Gawain as soon as possible."
"Summon Gawain and go to his deputy. You have to catch Paul" Ginny advised.
"Paul is his deputy."
"Then find someone else."
Harry nodded. Ginny was right. But as he looked at his watch, he figured he would take care of Paul tomorrow. Today he had to stop the Dementors from kissing Snape and he only hoped he would have enough strength to do so.
* Rosbif - Common informal term to describe an Englishman in France. The original explanation of the French term rosbif is that it referred to the English tradition of cooking roast beef