Hermione pulled back, feeling Severus' blood began to cool and congeal on her lips. She rubbed it aside with the cotton of her sleeve. When she could not see the rise and fall of his chest she pressed her ear to it in desperation. "No, Severus, please!" she wailed as the tears fell unbidden, "You can't leave me here, not like this," her fists grasped the slick fabric.
Voldemort had just made a decree that Harry Potter need hand himself over or more would perish. The commotion was silenced outside as each side dealt with their dead. She listened for a heartbeat in a quiet, which had become as thick as a grave. When she had almost given up; there came the telltale thrum of life. She felt his breath of air on her face. All she could do was cry from happiness. She cried from anger, and from relief. After a while, she pulled herself away. She would have to be strong. The night was not yet over. Severus had only consumed a stopper of death. She would need to aide him in recovery once the war had been won. She looked around, the shack was a relatively safe and unknown place. No one would come looking for him here. And if Voldemort returned, she would need to leave him where he lay or it would arose suspicion. For now, she would leave him to slumber in what could have been his tomb. In the empty vial, she relinquished several drops of Basilisk venom that could serve as an antivenin for Nagini. She placed it in his left hand, folding it closed. "I'll be back Severus," she caressed the caked hair from his face, "once this war is won. I promise." With that, she stood and began her long walk to the solemn castle.
Dead. So many were dead. Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown. Lupin. Tonks. …Fred Weasley. She felt the need to cry again but found her eyes were dry. A numbness and detachment was settling in. These halls used to be filled with so much joy and laughter: Gossiping portraits. Perturbed teachers. Mischievous students. Innocence. Now, in the ruins, lay her wounded and dying classmates. She looked to Ron's bereft face.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered as she folded him into a hug. Perhaps it would have been different. Maybe everything could have been changed if she- No. She wouldn't think about that now. What was done was done. She couldn't have prevented these events. This loss of life was Voldemort's fault. But, the dread crept in. She had made a choice. A terribly heavy choice. In the deepest recesses her mind whispered, you have chosen Severus over Harry. Your selfishness has doomed them all. Inner turmoil swirled within her. No! She would refuse to give in to doubt. She believed in Harry, she trusted him. She knew he would make it through. He would. …Wouldn't he?
Severus was weak. His limbs felt like lead and his tongue was just as heavy. All he could do was roll his head to the side and cough to aide his breathing. What had happened? He felt the slickness covering his body. More blood lost than there ever was before. Was he dead? Nearly. Foolish girl, his face flickered with uncharacteristic emotion. Why save him? What was he worth? Certainly not more than a world without the Dark Lord. …No. As long as he were alive, he would not allow it to be so. He had only sacrificed his life in order to bring about Tom Riddle's end. He swallowed then, desperate for water. In his search, he came upon the vial in his left hand. Had she not used it after all? With his remaining strength, Severus brought the vial to his nose and inhaled. This was not his magnum opus, no. The odor was rare yet familiar- Basilisk venom. He closed his eyes and breathed out his nose. So eager to keep me alive are we? Well, Miss Granger, he pressed the venom to the wound at his throat and performed a wordless spell, I have no choice but to oblige. But… you had better take responsibility. Magic resources depleted, Severus closed his eyes to rest. He had done his part in the fight. He entrusted the rest of the battle to her capable hands.