Chapter 16 - Keep Yourself Alive
The following morning, Hermione awoke to find Severus' bed empty with no note of explanation. She rose from her bed and silently moved into the next room. She found Snape seated behind his desk, writing furiously upon an already half filled piece of parchment. His brow was furrowed and as Hermione walked forward he did not look up or seem to notice her inquiring presence. He just continued writing at a frantic pace, with the occasional interval to delve his quill into an inkpot sitting upon the desk.
Hermione looked around the room that had been her sanctuary for so many months and noticed a small backpack sitting by the door. She began to worry. "What are you doing?" Severus looked up for a minute moment in recognition of Hermione's enquiry before returning to his writing. His eyes did not lighten and the corners of his lips did not twitch as they usually did at the sight of the young witch. He sighed deeply, reminiscent of the old Snape, before speaking in an oddly restrained voice. "I am sorry to tell you that I must leave for a short while." As Hermione prepared to protest, he continued. "Some of my sources have informed me that Lucius Malfoy and a number of the other remaining Deatheaters are causing trouble. I need to assist in their control and hopeful capture."
While he was speaking, Hermione's eyes had widened with fear and her voice shook as she struggled to respond. "But… I thought… I mean… I was under the impression that you wouldn't need to… do any of this after the defeat of… him." Severus sighed once again, folded up the piece of parchment upon which he had been writing and placed it in the pocket of his dark robes. He looked towards Hermione, this time focussing his attention more thoroughly upon her worried face.
He began to speak again, this time more gently, whilst straining to keep all emotion from his features. "Look, I am so very sorry this has come up. But there's nothing I can do." Hermione's lower lip began to tremble precariously. Severus stood up slowly from behind his desk and walked towards his companion. He hurriedly placed his arms around her shoulders and awkwardly kissed her forehead. The embrace was over before either of them would have hoped, and as Severus stepped back his hands continued to rest upon Hermione's upper arms. His fingers caressed her bare skin soothingly. "I am hoping that this won't turn into something beyond control. You really shouldn't worry. I'll be back in a few days."
A single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. Severus' eyes softened and his lips brushed against her cheek and caught the tear before it was able to fall to the ground. His lips moved to her ear. "I'll miss you." And before Hermione realised what was happening he had stepped away from her, grabbed the backpack and walked through the door without a backwards glance.
How could Severus just leave her like that? What had so suddenly inspired the Deatheaters to revolt? What sort of horrific circumstances could Severus possibly be enduring? These questions haunted Hermione's mind throughout the following days.
Not long after Severus' departure she had been called upon by Albus Dumbledore, who attempted to renew the potion master's promises of him being in no immediate danger. But Hermione continued to worry. His presence was sorely missed and she could do nothing to fill the gaping hole that he had left in her heart. The young witch tried to distract herself with continuous schoolwork and revision, but her thoughts always returned to Severus Snape.
She found herself curled up upon her armchair, staring blankly at the flickering flames of the fire every night, imagining what Severus could possibly be going through. Hazy images swirled before her eyes. Brutal images of the loathsome Lucius Malfoy, torturing him with the Cruciatus Curse. Triumphant images of Severus standing over the body of a cowering masked wizard, menacingly pointing his wand towards the chest of his victim. And most disturbingly, frightening images of Severus' limp and unmoving body. Hermione often drifted into unconscious with these images floating around her mind. She sometimes woke with a start, as the imagined scream of Severus Snape rang out into the night.
…
Wow. It's certainly been a while. I've said it before, I know, but I'm once again hoping that this story will be receiving many more regular updates throughout the next few months.
Either this chapter is very poorly written or my standards have heightened significantly since I wrote it over a year ago. The quality of writing should pick up in the next few chapters.
Most of those who originally started reading this story have probably forgotten it by now. For that, I am sorry. But the demands of life have been, well... demanding. Perhaps some will return, along with the enjoyment that has accompanied the story's composition thus far.