You can't apparate into Hogwarts grounds, and I feel how wrong it is that I can down to my toes. Its the second time, today. We land quietly near the lake, and my father tries to cast his Patronus.
Expecto Patronum, he says, quiet, and nothing comes. He tries again, and again, and again.
'Father, do you remember, when I was little, when mother and Topsy used to make jam biscuits? And she'd pick the roses from the trees and make rose jam? Think of the sun on your face, and sitting in your parlor, waiting to eat them with us, with Severus coming later. His eyes are closed and I can almost see the memory in his mind. A thestral bursts from the end of his wand, huge and silver. His eyes, the same color as the beast, the same as mine, widen, and the patronus puffs into smoke.
I conjure mine, and send it into the forest- 'Find severus.'. I look at my father, the man I most respected in the world and see his hands shake, with regret, and pain, and all the things in a day that you might lose. I know Granger's alright, I can feel a little bit of her magic in the pendant hidden under my shirt. Its a problem I'll have to deal with soon, though, especially if Potter lost. I'm surprised The Dark Lord hasn't called us already, but my father scratches his arm and I realize, suddenly, that he already has and Lucius is ignoring it.
On another day, another time, I'd change the situation but right now there's nothing I can do.
We tread through the forest towards the whisps of my patronus, a wolf, a form I never thought suited me much. But the silver is bright in the gloom, and I follow it through the trees, until we find Severus's still form. My father bends, down on his knees in the dirt for the second time in a day, and then disapparates, sudden and quick as a crack in the air and all the remains is Snape's blood in the dirt.
I take the moment alone to pull my pendant from my shirt and tap it three times, hoping she gets the message. And that if she does, that she comes. She's never been into the manor by invitation.. I wonder if she'll come now. It would be an act of bravery on her part, since The Dark Lord's tenure it stinks like dark magic and dirty snake. Nothing has been able to get the smell out. Aunt Bella crucio'ed her here and later I licked the poison out of her arm and desperation throbs through my bones, sudden and fearful, like a childhood monster.
But all the monsters I've ever known are human.
I've dumped Severus onto Narcissa's chaise longue, completely unwilling to move and am casting, frantically, when a loud pop sounds in the foyer, and I'm startled- the wards wouldn't allow The Dark Lord himself into the manor right now. Its Miss Granger, standing next to my son. She says nothing but she touches his arm and in that instant, I know. I knew it was someone but I didn't think it would be her. The fear in my chest wants me to insult her, instill fear, push. But I tamp it down and say 'Welcome to the Manor, Miss Granger. Your last visit to us was… regrettable. I'm sorry for it. At present, no one without express permission can enter the wards, and clearly my son has given it to you. Why are you here? I've lost my wife today, and I'd prefer not to lose my.. Severus, too.
She reaches into a beaded bag in her arms until its gone to the elbow, and pulls from it a healing kit… one inscribed with Severus's spiky, angry scrawl. She steps forward, and begins to cast. Really the force of her magic is surprising. It feels nothing like mine or Draco's, its softer, more subtle but powerful as a whip. The symbols above Severus's head seem to mean something to her, and she opens Severus's mouth and pours several potions down his throat, messaging to make them go down. She casts something, non verbal, and the air smells suddenly like lemon verbena. She gives him something that smells like peppermint, and then sits on the floor, legs disreputably crossed. I don't think I ever saw Narcissa sit like that, not in 40 years of marriage. She busies herself for a moment with the contents of her bag, and it makes me realize she's anxious and tamping it down hard.
'Is Potter dead?' my son says.
She pauses a moment before answering, and says 'I don't know if I can tell you.' How very Gryffindor of her. Means he isn't. 'I'll wait for Severus to wake up'.
The fear crushing my chest reduces. 'So he will wake up then?'
Her eyes are large, vulnerable, as she says 'well he should. If he doesn't he doesn't want to be here' and in her eyes is pity. She must know. Draco must have told her.
'I'm sorry about your wife, Mr Malfoy.' And its hard, so hard, not to snap at her.
She's sitting there on the floor next to Severus, trying to look relaxed in the house where Aunt Bella crucio'ed her to save my father's lover. Its almost too weird to think but it occurs to me how very brave she is, and how very little time we have, and how very much I want to kiss her neck. Severus wakes up coughing, spewing green bile onto the marble floor and before he can fall off the couch my father's arms are around him and he's almost crooning, Severus, Severus, Severus and Hermione gets to her feet and takes my hand and we walk into the hallway, waiting. It feels like something we shouldn't watch, and I'm about to comment when she slams me into the hallway wall and kisses me, hard, and it makes me groan, despite all the fear and the anxiety something blooms in my chest.
It feels like hope might, and for a second I can see a future with her, eyes closed full of curly haired blonde children. The pain is visceral, but I just stand there and hold her like it might be the last time.
'He isn't dead is he?'
She shakes her head and my father leans out of the foyer and says 'Draco, Miss Granger, we need to talk. Please come in'.
It's a conversation for the end of the world.