Hermione was sitting at a desk brought a few months ago for her personal use at the hospital wing.
She stretched, stifling a yawn. Madame Pomfrey had left her in a rush after having received a message from the headmaster urging her to join him down at the dungeons, but she wasn't too worried. Probably another cauldron explosion or an experiment that went wrong. She was indeed more worried for what would happen to the unlucky students later on; causing mayhem on Professor Snape's territory had a price. Little did she know...
She was surprised to see Dumbledore, Professor MacGonagall and Madame Pomfrey surrounding a single stretcher, on which laid the body of a thin, tall, white-faced man. It took her a few seconds to realize who was the unconscious person lying down. Truth finally hit her like a whip.
'Professor Snape!' she shrieked and, pushing her chair beside, she nearly ran to the bed on which the potions master had been levitated. She came at MacGonagall's side, and, to her great surprise, the latter delicately took her hand and squeezed it. Completely flabbergasted, she barely took in the headmaster's words of explanation.
´I'm afraid that all facts bring us to the conclusion that Severus here'-he nodded towards Snape's marble-white face-'has committed...has...has attempted suicide". The words seemed to have been torn from him. His eyes, staring unblinkingly at Snape had lost their usual twinkle and he had the appearance of a father standing besides his ill son's bed. He was putting in huge efforts in the restrain of his unshed tears, as if he had the obligation to set an example of courage to the others.
Meanwhile, Madame Pomfrey was fussing about with a set of potion bottles, looking for what would be best to administer her patient first. Hermione remained beside the bed, completely forgetting for a while her role as nurse assistant. She spotted dried blood that had leaked from the corner of Snape mouth, and drops spattered all over his face, throat and chest. She pulled out her wand from her robes' pocket and cast a cleaning spell all over him and transfigured his dirty robes in a clean set of pajamas (black, no need to say). She placed her hand on his forehead; it was nearly ice-cold. She checked his pulse and was relieved to find one, feeble as it was. She noticed that Dumbledore and MacGonagall had left for the opposite side of the wing. Her heart shattered at the sight of her ex-transfiguration teacher weeping softly, a tartan handkerchief at the corner of her damp eyes. Dumbledore was trying to comfort her, but she only gave a quiet sob; Hermione felt like all hope had left her at the only time she witnessed the woman whom she knew had always kept a cold head in the most extreme situations lose control. She sighed, her face falling.
Madame Pomfrey finally came back with a tray full of her selection of potions. She left the tray on the night-table and chose a little flacon full of a dark red liquid. Blood replenishing potion.
'Professor Snape was already given an antidote back in his quarters', she told Hermione, noticing her puzzled expression.
´So you knew what poison he drank?', asked Hermione, her tone relieved.
'Well, maybe antidote is not the proper word to use...' the nurse replied sadly. 'The potion we made him drink down there made him cough out his blood... It seemed to be the only way to get rid of that thrice damned poison'.
Hermione shuddered just at the thought of it.
'Couldn't you just give him a bezoar?', she suggested.
Madame Pomfrey smiled faintly.
'You seem to forget who we're dealing with, Miss Granger. Professor Snape is one of the best potion masters in Europe, and in the present situation, I don't think he would've taken something he knew would have a cure so simple to find...The headmaster thinks the potion was a creation of his, unfortunately.'


'Unfortunately?'
´Yes, we fear that only he has the cure to it.'
´But what if we used Legilimency? Or Veritaserum?'
'Professor Snape is a renown occlumens-'
'But in that state, you don't think he'll be able to-'
'Miss Granger!'Madame Pomefrey's temper was rising at being interrupted. 'Professor Snape has used occlumency in states of great weakness against He-who-must-not-be-named'-why doesn't she use the damned name? He's dead already, Godammit! Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!-´and will use it again if we try to use legilimency against him, which will only result in his weakening. As for Veritaserum, we don't have anymore in stock, the only person storing it being himself. His act was clearly well prepared', she finished bitterly.
After giving Snape a blood-replenishing potion, Pepper-up, a strengthening solution and a dreamless-sleep potion (Hermione feeling awkward whhile she had to hold Snape upright for him to drink properly, while Madame Pomfrey fed him the remedies), both nurse and assistant conjured chairs from thin air and sat beside the bed.
Snape's face was serene, and seemed nearly unreal without his usual sneer twisting it. He didn't look his usual imposing, sometimes even ferocious self. Or was he at last acting himself, after years of hiding behind a mask he had created to face society? What did you have to face all alone to come to this, Professor? Why did you hurt yourself like you just did? All hope for you isn't lost yet, see how many people cry you... You are loved, Professor, open your eyes to the warmth of the world you have been blind to, that lays right in front of you...But you stubbornly refuse to see it, or even notice it. You have the right to be happy...

Haven't you?

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by a soft moan. Snape was still fast asleep. She was glad to see that he had regained a little color. Madame Pomfrey stood up and checked his temperature buy pointing her wand at his temple. She frowned.
´What's the matter?'Hermione didn't like the nurse's worried look one bit.
´His temperature's rising too quickly', she answered.
´You don't mean-'
´Yes Granger. Expect a high fever soon...It sometimes happens when one takes too many different potions in a short lapse of time'.
´But we didn't have a choice', said Hermione, nearly outraged.
´It happens nevertheless. If you're not happy with that, go and complain to the potions, Miss Granger'.
Hermione didn't reply the sarcastic comment but went to fetch towels and a small hospital dish filled with cold water. She soaked the towels and twisted them before placing them on Snape's forehead. He was shivering by now, muttering nonsense under his breath. Hermione felt happy the hospital wing was empty, for Snape was needing both women's full attention.
She touched his cheek; he was literally boiling. His breathing swallowed, he trembled harder, jerking his head from one side to another. Soon he was convulsing, his back arching violently a few inches from the mattress and landing back heavily with a thud, making the springs squeak.
Hermione panicked.
She tried to hold him to the bed, but he let out a high scream the moment she touched him.
´HANDS OFF, MISS GRANGER!' barked Madame Pomefrey. Not used to the tone she had used and shocked by how Snape was reacting, Hermione stepped away from the bed, feeling helpless and on the verge of tears.
´There, there, Miss Granger'; Madame Pomfrey had taken her friendlier tone back and walked 

towards Hermione, laying her hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
'You must avoid touching him for the moment. His nerves are... over-sensitive and the faintest touch results in pain. There is nothing to do for the time being but waiting for the crisis to end.'
Hermione nodded. Snape had calmed himself down a little. His convulsions were over, but his temperature was still high. He whispered weakly, and Hermione could barely make out his phrases.
'Must...end...no...finish...enough...shan't...no more...' His breathing evened, his chest rising and falling more regularly. The whiteness of his face clashed with his black pyjamas. His face was sad to look at; it had the innocence of a sleeping young child. His dark hair was falling loosely at the sides of his head, a few locks falling over his brow. His mouth was slightly open. He turned weakly on his side and tried to snuggle back to the warmth of his bedcovers, with no success. Hermione pulled them over him and tucked him in, nearly tenderly. She remembered how weird it had felt to watch MacGonagall, who had long gone back to her duties with Dumbledore, cry. However, seeing what suspiciously looked like Snape's inner-child reappear didn't feel strange, but comforting.
It was, after all, the proof that the fellow's human.

Hermione couldn't help smiling at the relaxed features of Severus Snape's face, and for the first time, noticed how graceful they were. He reminded her of a Chinese ink drawing. Madame Pomfrey left to fetch an extra blanket, and Hermione felt intimate with the man in front of her.

She made herself the promise to save him, no matter how.

She bent down...
She was so close...
Her lips met his, she didn't understand why, she only knew... She only knew...
Suddenly, Snape seemed to respond feebly to her kiss. She sat up, blushing furiously.
Snape muttered ´Hermione', gently, as if he was calling out for her, and stood quite still.
Madame Pomfrey came back with the blanket. Hermione blinked, she felt like waking up from a dream.

'Anything wrong, Miss Granger?', the nurse asked with concern.
'No! ... nothing...nothing', Hermione answered with a start. For all it was, maybe something was finaly going right in her life... All she had to do was wait and see.

Only time would tell her.