Chapter 25

Distant voices – just like last time – as though she heard them through a tunnel.

"I cannot abide this. It is too much. It is…" the deep, heated voice trailed off.

"I know, my boy," a painfully familiar voice said, "I know."

"Perhaps we need to keep a closer watch on the girl," a different, sharper voice spoke now. "Monitoring her movements in the halls is clearly not enough if she's to be attacked in her classes."

"And how precisely would I intervene, Phineas, even if I knew when to do so?"

Hermione's curiosity attempted to revive her further, to pull her from the darkness already engulfing her once more.

"You would not intervene," the other voice said quickly. Hermione tried – and failed – to place it. "It is imperative that you keep your head, Severus, now more than ever."

It had been a long time since she'd taken Dreamless Sleep. The resistance she'd built against it over the summer was fading, but Hermione felt herself fading along with it, succumbing, despite a loud, sudden noise. And another.

"You'll wake the girl," a woman's voice spoke this time, "if you carry on throwing things, young man. Calm yourself."

"Would you be calm in such a situation, Dilys?" snarled the deep voice. "Would you be capable of standing by while… while…" the voice broke off, choked by a sharp intake of breath. Hermione felt the pain she heard in that voice echoing within her chest as she descended back into sleep. The voice was barely audible now, and Hermione could no longer strain to hear it. She was on the edge of sleep, and it was barely a whisper that her mind couldn't quite grasp: "It's like her all over again…"

Hermione awoke hours later. Opening her eyes, she saw the long shadows in the Headmaster's office, and the rising sun through one of the windows. She ached all over – within and without – but sat herself up determinedly and looked around. Snape appeared, crouched down before her.

"How do you feel, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione ignored him and tried to rise from the couch, a hundred thoughts crowding one another through her mind – was Neville all right? How was the DA reacting to what happened? What time was it, anyway? Snape put a hand on her shoulder and Hermione glared at him when he gently pushed her to sit back down.

"Let me go," she growled, shrugging his hand away. She got unsteadily to her feet, and this time Snape rose alongside her. "I have to – I have to…" she wobbled where she stood, and Hermione had to close her eyes for a moment to steady herself. The dull ache turned into roaring inflammation tearing through her nerves.

"You cannot leave in this state, Granger," the deep voice said from beside her.

He didn't try to push her back down to the couch, but when Hermione opened her eyes once more he'd raised his hands awkwardly, as if preparing to catch her should she collapse. She stared at him, trying to ignore the pain.

"I don't have a choice. I have to…" she trailed off and pressed her palm to her forehead, attempting to counter the pounding headache. "I've got to see to…"

"Please sit down," he said. "Allow me to at least assess your status before you go."

His voice held a pleading note she'd never heard before – it caught her attention, and Hermione examined Snape carefully. He looked as tired as she felt, and she saw that, despite his apparent composure, rage and something else boiled beneath the flat surface of his black eyes. Like when he picked me up from the Ministry. She sank back down onto the couch.

"Thank you," he said, and he sat down before her on a low stool. Their faces were of a height. "How do you feel?"

"I need to check on my friends."

"They are fine," Snape waved a hand dismissively. "How are you?"

Hermione glared at him.

"I'm fine too," she said acidly. "Just peachy, actually. Now, unless you'll tell me more about the state of affairs outside this office, may I go?"

Snape returned Hermione's glare with interest, but then shrugged.

"Your friends are fine," he repeated. "Mr. Longbottom suffered very little damage from the Curse, and I had Madam Pomfrey give him the same Strengthening Potion I gave you yesterday."

Hermione thought of the torture Neville had undergone – the same Curse that had so debilitated his parents – and she felt like crying.

"And… and the other students from the class?"

"Are all perfectly well."

"Aside from being forced to torture me, of course?"

The man looked away and in a display that both confused and unnerved her, pressed one of his long, elegant hands over his eyes. Obeying some latent instinct, Hermione slipped her hand into his and pulled it down so that her eyes met his. There, she found pain and a resignation that frightened her.

"Snape," she began, still holding onto his hand.

She felt the dark, invigorating magic begin to flow from him as they touched. He continued to look at her. It was hard to carry on sitting in the same attitude when she felt torn between running out of the office to check on Neville and the DA, and throwing herself into the dark man's arms until the pounding in her head and the pain in her nerves subsided. It would help, she realised as Snape's dusky power eased some of the pain coursing through her. Touching him helps. She took a deep breath and pressed on.

"Snape, we have to do something about…" she hesitated for a moment, her mind flashing back to the horrifying scene in the Dark Arts classroom, "about what happened yesterday."

His eyes glinted, and the emotions she'd glimpsed seemed to redouble. His other hand covered hers so that he held her hand between both of his. The pain receded so quickly that Hermione gasped. His eyes flew up to meet hers.

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes, but it's…" she trailed off for a moment, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks and neck. "It feels better when – " she couldn't say it aloud, but she completed the thought in her mind: when you're touching me.

Hermione closed her eyes, blocking out Snape and his searching, open expression as thoroughly as she could while she paradoxically deepened the touch by bringing her other hand up to rest on his shoulder. Tendrils of his inky hair brushed her knuckles and Hermione followed the temptation and let her hand travel through the soft strands. This is insane, she thought to herself, feeling yet more of the fiery pain in her nerves subsiding. This is completely insane. He'll pull back any second now, and he'll be angry and I'll have to leave and everything will be worse and I'll never feel this –

He did not pull away. One of his hands travelled gently to her wrist, trailed delicately up her arm, ghosted over her shoulder – she inhaled sharply when she felt the pressure of his fingers on her clavicle – threaded gently through the mass of bushy curls that had gone completely wild overnight, and settled on a pulse point at her throat. She leaned forward into his touch, and the aching throughout her body was replaced by a completely different sensation racing down from the point he touched on her neck, flooding her chest with warmth, and sending a puzzling counterpoint down lower, deep into her belly.

Severus. She thought the name and opened her eyes to see him. He watched her as carefully as ever, his head cocked to one side. Hermione felt herself smiling at him, and she moved her hand through his hair so that she could hook a strand of it over his ear, as she had done before. One corner of his mouth rose in an odd little half smile.

"You were saying?" he said, so quietly that she barely heard him.

"Better," she said, and her voice came out breathy and high and slightly ridiculous. She swallowed hard. "Sev –" she stopped herself saying the name aloud, but she saw his eyes widen slightly before she dropped her gaze to their interlocked hands. She shook herself mentally before pressing forward. "Sir. What should we do about… about the Carrows?"

Snape straightened up immediately and regarded her with what looked fleetingly like regret. After a moment, he withdrew the hand that he'd pressed to her neck, and pulled back from her half-embrace. When he looked at her again, his eyes had hardened and his entire demeanour had changed.

"What makes you think we are going to do anything at all? Professor Carrow was teaching an advanced lesson on the Dark Arts." Snape's other hand, still wrapped around her own, trembled slightly as he continued, "There is nothing to be done."

Hermione stared at him, feeling tears fill her eyes. She released his hand, disgust coiling in her stomach as her mind raced over the implications of his answer. The pain from before returned immediately, and she felt like she might descend back into a stupor.

"You won't help us?" she whispered. Something inside her ached, worse than the aftermath of the Cruciatus. "You won't help… me?"

Snape dropped his gaze down to his hands, which were empty now. His lip twitched before his dark hair fell forward to obscure his face. He shook his head, just once, and Hermione stood abruptly, ignoring the way her nerves screamed with the movement.

I have to get out of here, she thought to herself, feeling a tear trailing down her cheek. The ache was spreading through her chest and up into her throat. In a moment, she would choke on it. I have to –

"Granger."

Snape stood up as well, and reached for her with both hands.

"Don't touch me," Hermione hissed at him, and he immediately dropped his hands.

"Granger," he said again, and his voice held a quiet desperation, "please stay here. You cannot think to leave when –"

"I am leaving," she sneered. "Unlike you, I am not a coward."

He met her eyes after she spat that last word, and Hermione saw pain, rage, and despair reflected back at her in those dark depths. She turned her back on him, and walked unsteadily out of his office.

The spinning spiral staircase almost brought Hermione to her knees, but she elbowed her way out from behind the gargoyle nonetheless. She would have stumbled into the corridor, had a pair of slim, strong arms not been waiting to embrace her.

"'Mione!" Ginny's voice, and her flowery perfume, and that ineffable strength of hers, enfolded Hermione as they descended together to the cold stone floor.

"Here," she heard the younger girl's voice say sharply. "Take the Map and keep an eye out."

Something shuffled to the right, and then Ginny held her even tighter. Hermione realised belatedly that she was sobbing into the mane of red hair, and some of the burning from the Cruciatus and the ache in her chest melted away as her heart filled. Ginny was whispering to her in her rich, urgent voice:

"You're all right now, 'Mione, you're all right. We're here for you. We'll keep you safe."

"That's right, 'Mione. Everything is going to be okay," another voice said, and Hermione looked up to see Neville. He smiled at her wanly, and she disentangled herself from Ginny to give the round-faced young man a hug.

"Are you really all right?" she asked him, pulling back to examine him carefully. He looked tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes, but he gave off a determined, almost harsh energy that made a little of the ache in Hermione's heart subside.

"I am," Neville answered. "Pomfrey patched me right up. She said it might take a little while to heal…" he paused for a moment, "mentally from it, but I should be just fine."

Hermione nodded and tried to smile.

"Neville," Ginny said abruptly, "it looks like DE Number Two is on his way. We'd better leave. West staircase – now."

"Right," Neville said a little absently. "Come on, 'Mione."

Hermione allowed her two friends to escort her gently through the castle. Ginny stopped every few moments to check the Marauder's Map, navigating around Filch and the other DE members and sympathizers.

"What did Snape want you to stay in his Office overnight for?" Neville asked as they made their way forward.

"He… he treated me for the aftereffects of the Cruciatus."

"I figured as much," Ginny said, "but why didn't he just leave you in the Hospital Wing?"

"He had potions… I think he's got more experience treating… I'm not sure."

Ginny glanced at her sideways.

"He didn't hurt you or anything? We were checking on the Map for you all night, and we had two people stationed right by the Head's Office as well. Snape… stayed really close to you. And you were really upset just now."

Hermione did not answer, but an overheard conversation from the night before echoed through her mind. She shook her head to clear the Headmaster from her mind – it hurt to think of him right now.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked as they neared the Room of Requirement.

"Half past eight," Neville answered.

"We've got some food from breakfast waiting for you in the Room," Ginny said. "I think you'd best stay there for the –"

"No," Hermione said simply. "I'll need a quick shower, and then I'll be attending classes as usual."

She saw Neville and Ginny exchange glances.

"You've got Muggle Studies first, right? It's cancelled for the time being so – " Ginny's voice adopted a careful note that made Hermione stop in her tracks. Neville tightened his arm around her shoulders.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Let's get back to the Room, we can talk about this la –"

"What. Did. You. Do?" Hermione demanded, straightening her spine as much as she could and glaring at Ginny.

"You and Neville were both… out of commission," Ginny said, looking away. "So I did as you always directed. I… led the DA."

"To do…?"

Ginny finally looked back at Hermione, and there was both pride and caution in the younger girl's eyes.

"I took Neville's fighters and we tracked down Alecto Carrow after hours. Amycus was in his office all night, or we'd have preferred him. She was patrolling, so I had Michael Corner and Parvati watch my back when I hit her."

Hermione felt both bright anger and savage satisfaction warring within her breast.

"With?"

"Curse of the Bogies," Ginny said, and then continued in a rush, "it was going to be the Bat Bogey Hex, but I decided that… considering what her brother put you through…"

"Did she see you?"

"No, no one did."

"And you all got back to the Common Room safely?"

"Of course."

Hermione rushed forward and hugged her friend, and yet more of the aftereffects of the Curse melted away as her heart surged with affection for Ginny.

"She's in the Hospital Wing," Neville said, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "I saw her come in this morning after someone finally found her in the corridors. And Madam Pomfrey has no idea how to treat such an advanced curse, of course."

Hermione laughed as well, feeling the last of the inflammation leaving her.

A/N: This past week marks six months since I started posting this story. To each and every one of you who has read this work and especially to those who have given me so much encouragement with your reviews and PMs, thank you. You've stuck with me for half a year, and I'm so grateful that you've joined me on this long journey. We've still got a ways to go, and I will do my best to keep up the quality of this story as we head on towards the next major turning point.