Hermione gently laid Snape's onto the stone floor, and went back to the potion. She was glad that this was a fast-brewing, fast-acting potion. She was also lucky that Mortoxis was a paralysing potion that was relatively slow-to-kill, and once paralysis set in, there was no pain.
She was also lucky that the antidote could be effectively administered even in the final stages of paralysis. She guessed that Snape hadn't been counting on someone stopping him in this act of…well, suicide. Gyah! What an idiot I must've sounded like, saying "me," as if I were important. What else could I have said though?, she thought, frantically racking her brain, whilst keeping an eye on the potion as it bubbled its way to completion.
Glancing back at Professor Snape, she was surprised to find him staring at her as intensely as a man stricken with paralysis could. Trying to reassure him, she said "It's coming Professor, I'm hurrying as fast as I-" she broke off as the potion turned a violent purple.
Reaching for a clean potion-phial, she scooped up some of the antidote, taking care not to get any on her hands. Hermione then carried it carefully, almost reverently over to the paralysed Potions-master. Gently taking his head into her lap again, she cupped his chin, and poured the potion into his mouth, massaging his throat to encourage his numbed throat-muscles to swallow.
For what seemed like hours, Hermione poured phial after phial of the potion down the poisoned professor's throat, encouraged only slightly by his vaguely-clearing eyes.
When she finally reached the bottom of the cauldron, and had administered the last phial of potion, she gently slapped his sallow cheeks and chest as the hand-written notes at the bottom of the potion-recipe had suggested.
"Professor, sir, Professor Snape? Can you hear me? Please," she gasped as Snape did not seem to be responding to the potion…please, oh gods, wake up… "Sir, please, I need you…for exams, please wak-"
"Miss Granger…" Hermione gasped as Snape struggled to speak, his voice weak and hoarse, "I understand that you are in the habit of perpetually exercising those lungs, but please spare me th-" he shuddered and coughed harshly, causing Hermione to wince, "Professor, you shouldn't be talking right now, we have to get you to Professor Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey," ignoring the glare he gave her.
"Use the Floo-network to summon Professor Dumbledore, then kindly make your way out of my private laboratory…and if you mention this…" he paused, wetting his lips, "…'incident' to anyone – anyone at all, your life won't be worth living. And you can forget your 'dreams' about being head-researcher for the Ministry."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, wisely, and settled for simply glaring back at Professor Snape.
Helping the Professor to slump into one of his high-backed chairs, she stalked over to the fireplace, and taking up a pinch of Floo-powder, spoke into the fireplace,
"Professor Dumbledore…"