Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my thoughts of AU and OC, the rest all belong to J K Rowling.

Chapter 44

Hovering around the realms of hallucination, the last image Severus Snape could grasp onto was the burning picture of a heavily pregnant Ginny and Harry comforting each other and an oddly familiar knight guarding him. Soaring through dense clouds of gloom and misery, he found himself standing in front of a mirror. In the reflection he could see a woman with red hair swinging a giggling bushy-haired girl in her arms, while he watched them from a distance. He saw a small bucktooth girl sitting on the stool in front of the whole school and muttering to herself, "you can do this Hermione," the very next moment she is rushing away to the boisterous table meant for the Gryffindor.

But Miss Granger had mostly been lonely, mocked by the rest of her classmates, bullied by his Slytherin students, and berated by him personally in every potion class. Partly as an apology, he would store a copy of her brilliantly written essays in a secret drawer beside his teaching desk. But that could never excuse his vile treatment. He would often find the girl tucked inside a least frequented alcove of the vast Hogwarts library, digging through books, biting her lips red in nervous frenzy. Just like Lily, how many times had he seen the connection staring back at him!

Sometimes, he would also find her looking out of the window, from her personal corner in the library. How fitting, many of the students in the castle had started calling that alcove," Bookworm's nook". She would peer out of the window, watch students play around in the ground, and would heave sighs, her breath misting over the glass window. Brushing away those silent tears she would return to her endless research, essays, homework and advance study schedules. While he would stand and watch her, hidden behind the tall shelves.

Severus had felt her loneliness pull at his conscience. He would have loved to indulge in mentoring her. Pick at that brilliant brain of hers, teach her everything he ever knew, and watch how eagerly she would lap in every drop of it. But with the dark lord's return looming over his head, he had pushed all of them away. Awe, admiration, elation and pride had made him breathless when she had solved his riddle when she had discovered the clue to Basilisk. In his own dreamland, he admitted to himself for the first time, how he would look out for the tiny hand waving in the air, how he would swell in pride each time she would say the correct answer. He always knew she would get it right. Always, because he had watched her prepare for his class in the quiet library beforehand.

He whimpered and called out her name time and again, her image lingering close enough in the gathering clouds, but too far for him to reach out...Hermione standing in a destroyed girl's bathroom, still shuddering with fright, her eyes wide in panic and a huge troll lying unconscious beside her...Hermione, reading a huge tome in the Great Hall, breakfast barely touched...Hermione laying petrified in a hospital wing...Hermione hardly breathing after the debacle at the ministry, cursed by Dolohov. He had to pry her chest open to flush out the dark spell. How she had shone like a little princess in the Yule Ball. "Sorry…sorry…I am so sorry…forgive me…"

He wanted to hold her once again. In his arms, near his beating chest, close to his body. Father, I have been her father, and she had to suffer so much. If only I could hold her once again. Pat her back, ease her insecurities, tell her, just keep telling her "Daddy is here, he will fix everything, you don't need to carry the weight of the world, you have a brother a stupid but utterly brave one, you have me, you can have Draco if you fancy him. Just let go, come back to us, love…"

In his turbulent dreams, an image of Lily appeared beside his now smiling Hermione, in her ethereal voice his lost love called out to him, "Sage, my Baby's Breath is counting on you…the knights…are friends…of Hogwarts…look at them closely…you will know you will remember…the tales of the past never lie, neither are the beginning of the Founders all myths and legends. "

He tried to fight against the heavy winds threatening to blow him away. He tried to jump, leap and at least for once touch the two of them. The next thing he knew, Lily vanished in thin air, but Hermione was screaming in panic, "Daddy, daddy, I can't keep up, she will kill me…she will kill me…" As he got tossed into the rising gale, he watched in horror, Hermione was slowly transforming into a surging column of black smoke," Hermioneeeeee…" Something solid, heavy and cold, held on to him, turning his head, he saw three Knights of the Undead, hovering around him, trying to keep him away from the now billowing Obscurus. Knights, he had seen them, often but where? Their armours clanged, the hilt of their swords poked at his ribs. They are real yet dead.

The image of a destitute Snape had broken Harry Potter. He had always seen him as a man of power. Within moments the boy who lived twice was reliving the most grievous episode in his life. Clutching on to the bleeding wounded neck of the potion master and watching him die helplessly. "Hermione, Hermione was the one to save him. His daughter, my sister." He felt Ginny holding him close to her. He didn't notice that he was kneeling down in front of the man's sleep body.

"Gin…"

"Shush, Harry, Shush, why…why don't we let him sleep for some time? Let's go, Harry, we need to get you out of these soaked clothes as well."

Molly's motherly voice floated from somewhere near, "Ginny, dear take him to the spare bedroom, I will get some soup and bread. Let him sleep it through, how unfortunate, Merlin, help these two!"

He had cried in his wife's arm much later that night. He just could not forgive himself for not checking on Hermione. He had been angry, too angry with Ron for hurting her so much. Stupid git, he could never figure her out. Loyal my foot! Throughout his mental rumbling he had felt Ginny easing his body on the bed, and letting him hug her. He kept his head over her beating heart, at least he was home. But that miserable man downstairs, where did he stand, unsure over the threshold?

What would Mother want him to do? Of course, look after him, but where does that leave his own father? Ginny's voice mumbled the truth into his ears, "Harry, Snape is no less a father figure, for all of us, this is the least we could do, be there for him, become the family both Hermione and Snape have been yearning for so long. Your mother would have happened that, so would your father, even if they did not see to the eyes, but if he knew how Snape has protected you for all these years, even he would ask you to be for this brave and brilliant man. How accurate is it to actually recognize Hermione as Snape's own daughter, I say that bloody brilliant scarily mind-blowing!"

Harry looked back at his wife, stroking her ever-growing belly, he kissed her slowly, taking his time to say his wordless thanks. Much later into the night, he had woken up, to find his wife fast asleep. The cottage was quiet but for soft voices talking among themselves. Untangling him from his wife's arms, Harry crept out of the room. The voices were coming from the kitchen. Peering inside, he found Molly, Bill, Arthur, Lupin, Minerva, Kingsley and Narcissa all gathered around the dining table sipping tea. All their faces still overshadowed with uncertainty. The light in the living room was dimmed off. Creeping inside, he found Draco crouched beside the sleeping form of Severus Snape. The couch had been transfigured into a cot. And the man was still asleep.

Without looking up from the sleeping man's body, the brooding godson greeted him, "Potter."

Harry muttered out of habit, "Malfoy…how is he?"

Heaving a sigh, the man muttered, "Struggling with his nightmares…" pointing out of the window, at the still present company of Knight of the Undead, the Malfoy Heir mused, "Those were myths, long forgotten, funny I could never figure it out before all these."

That very moment, with a piercing scream Snape jumped out of the transfigured bed, his hands outstretched, his eyes wide open in terror. His baritone voice forced every soul inside the Shell cottage to gather around the living room in an instant and the name," Hermione" rang through every brick, through every particle in the vicinity.

A/N: I have been writing yet another fanfic called, "SCARS" do feel free to give it a read!