Hermione was so tired she wasn't entirely certain that her arms were still connected. They felt rather floaty, and in the darkness of the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, she had the odd sense that her left hand was cradling the back of her head. This was all nonsense, of course; she knew she was feeling the Cloak, not her hand, through a skewed sense of perception brought on by adrenaline, trauma, lack of sleep, and dizzying hunger. At least she was still thinking clearly, despite her fear, and for that she felt unspeakably proud. Oh yes, she was terrified, but she kept pushing through it anyway.

'It' being the fact that they were crawling through a dirty, cobweb-filled tunnel to try to kill Voldemort and his snake, somehow. She wasn't sure how, yet, but somehow.

But then Harry stopped, and they snuck behind boxes. Voldemort and Snape were right there. Damn damn damn she didn't dare risk casting Silencio now, in case he felt it. She was afraid to even breathe. Her ears were still numb and ringing, so she couldn't catch what they were saying. Could she get close enough under the cloak to kill the snake? ...No, there, around the boxes she could see the glittering ward. So he knew what they were up to. Damn, now they didn't even have the element of surprise. Would he still be overconfident though? Probably. Justifiably, to some degree. She was busily trying to identify which ward spell Nameless had cast on the snake when she saw it coil and strike. Professor Snape was thrown back against their cover, and she wasn't able to fully choke back a gasp. But he was screaming, horrible, full throated, gut-wrenching screams, and she had no idea what was going on. Clutching her mouth with one hand and her wand in the other, she met Ron's wide eyes in the darkness. You-Know-Who said something, but she couldn't hear over the screams. Then Harry surged forward, and they followed.

At first, Hermione didn't understand what she was seeing. It didn't seem real...it couldn't be real. The professor was sprawled on his back, dark blood pooling beneath him, dark blood spattering the crumbling plaster behind him. The metallic stench was a physical thing. She had to swallow hard to fight the rising gorge. That horrible gurgling sound...no... Her mind flinched away.

"Hermione!" Harry was shouting at her from a long way away. The Invisibility Cloak was gone, and her hair sparked with static. Some stray hairs were clinging across her face. Then she blinked, and her brain fired up again. She Summoned a flask from her purse, and while Harry knelt at Snape's side, she Summoned her first aid kit. Kneeling on Snape's other side, ignoring the blood soaking through the knees of her jeans, she fumblingly unzipped her kit and dumped the whole contents onto his now-still chest. A moment's indecision, Blood Replenisher or antivenin? Wand on the floor, Hermione tugged the professor's torn high collar away, and blood shot out a full ten centimeters from his torn throat. Divorcing herself from what she was about to do, she reached in to find the edges of his artery. It felt like a floppy rubber hose, and it was so slippery she could hardly keep her grip. But oh! There was still a weak pulse in her hand. Hoping against hope that she wasn't cutting off all his circulation, she reached blindly with her left hand for the antivenin. Her blood-slick fingers could barely pop the flask, but she was able to pour the whole stock into his slack mouth.

Good gracious she wished his eyes would close.

She tossed the empty flask aside and reached for the much larger bottle of Blood Replenishing Potion. Not even bothering with a measured dose, she just estimated. Clicking the bottle shut again, she set it on the floor and gently ran a few fingers along the intact side of his throat. How Nagini only got one side of his neck, she's never know.

By then she realized that Ron was shouting at her, had been shouting at her while she had been focusing on immediate response. The What are you DOING!s and He's a traitor! made something inside her snap, and she snarled, "You-Know-Who wants him dead, that's enough reason for me to want him to live!" She was appalled. You didn't just let someone die in front of you, out of cold blood, when you could do something about it. Even if that person was a murderer, that wasn't justice. And it wasn't something you debated, something you articulated and thought about-it was general human compassion. The pulse beneath her fingers seemed stronger.

Just then, she felt like Ron was a stranger to her.

The sleeve of her sweater was soaked up to her elbow.

"Harry, you need to see those memories, and you need to contact St. Mungo's, I can't fix this on my own," her voice cracked. "When Mr. Weasley was attacked, didn't Dumbledore have a portrait-? Phineas! Harry, get Phineas! One of the head portraits can also go to St. Mungo's!"

Harry pulled the gilt portrait frame out of the purse, but it was empty. "Phineas! Phineas! HEADMASTER! Phineas Black!" They both shouted, but he still didn't come.

Hermione tossed her hair back, trying to keep down her panic. "Both of you, go. You can find a portrait in the castle, but Harry, that memory is more important."

"I'm staying with you!" Ron protested.

Hermione shook her head. "We're not done yet. Go, please go."

We still need to get the snake, she wouldn't say out loud.

The boys shared a look, Ron's shoulders slumped, and they left.

As silence swelled in their wake, Hermione administered another dose of Blood Replenishing Potion. Her right hand was starting to cramp, but she didn't dare try to shift her grip. Her once-cream sweater was now mostly red. There was just so much blood, she didn't know how he was still alive. Suddenly, he gave a great rattling gasp, and some of her first aid potions rolled to the floor. He was breathing on his own, and tears of relief burned her eyes.

She started calling to Phineas again, subconsciously taking up a rhythm as the minutes passed. Snape's heart was still beating, he was still breathing, but he was also still bleeding. She kept giving him Blood Replenishing Potion, but soon she was going to run out. She tried pouring Dittany on his neck, but that didn't seem to have any effect. And by then, his breathing was getting faster and shallower.

She didn't know what else to do. She was going to fail, and he was going to die.

Once more, she tipped blood replenisher down his throat, but the bottle sloshed nearly empty. She could not take her hand away from his neck, so she picked up her wand with her left hand. Ignoring the awkwardness, she poured all her desperation into her Patronus. She couldn't draw up any happy thought just then, instead she focused on all the inarticulated feelings about why she was trying so hard to save this man. That generosity superseded all her confused feelings, all her hurt and doubt and still-flickering faith in him. How she felt about him didn't matter, he was owed the same dignity she owed to everyone.

When light flared from the tip of her wand, she had to shut her eyes against the glare. She cried, "Help! Please help! Adult male trauma victim in the Shrieking Shack, outside of Hogsmede, with a snake bite to the neck! Please help!" And with an almighty shove, she willed her Patronus to St. Mungo's. Proper spells be damned. She'd never sent a patronus message before, though, so she had no way of knowing if this would work. She kept calling for Phineas just in case.

Blinking the aura out of her eyes as they readjusted to the darkness, she thought Snape's breathing sounded slightly stronger again. She wondered if the presence of a Patronus could have a positive effect against all ailm-

CRACK!-CK!-CK!

Hermione shrieked and ducked, her startled squeeze making Snape flinch. Oh! he moved! Oh! Who was there! She heard movement in the hallway. Wand ready in her left hand, she yelled, "In here!" Whether they were medi-wizards or Death Eaters, she had no way of knowing.

She had to shut her eyes against the glare of four lit wands, but then the mediwizards moved in. The lead mediwizard did a double take when he recognized the wizard on the floor, then they swooped in. "What happened?"

"He was bit by You-Know-Who's snake, I gave him antivenin and Blood Replenishing Potion, but I'm out and he's still bleeding," she rattled off.

A medi-witch cast a diagnostic spell while the other mediwizard transfigured a floorboard into a stretcher. The lead asked, somewhat confusedly, "You had antivenin?" as knelt next to her, curiously inspecting how she held his artery shut, and nodded his approval.

The mediwitch responded, "It's working," just as Hermione said, "You really don't want to know." When she registered what the mediwitch had said, she slumped with relief.

The mediwizard at her side asked, "How long ago was he bit?"

Hermione tried to shake her hair out of her face, saying, "Fifteen minutes?" as the other mediwizard took out a syringe and injected the full measure into Snape's thigh.

The mediwizard next to her said, "That's a better version of the standard Blood Replenishing Potion, plus a coagulant." Then he began an chant-like incantation and the mediwitch explained, "Now we're lowering his body temperature, to stabilize him enough for apparition."

Hermione could feel the pulse beneath her fingers slowing down, the blood growing cold. The mediwizard lowered his wand and said to her, "On the count of three, we're going to St. Mungo's. Let go on 'two.' I've a feeling you've got other business to attend to, Miss Granger." Resolutely, she nodded, and snatched her beaded purse off of Snape's chest.

"One..." The mediwizards and mediwitch clutched their patient.

"Two..." Hermione let go, and blood poured out. She thought she saw Snape's eyelids flutter.

"Three!" CRACK!

The silence was deafening.

She sat stunned in the pool of blood for a moment, but then she gave herself a little shake and began to clean up. There was still so much more to do.