16. SALTY VEGETABLE WATER
Hermione had spent much time in the hospital wing in her school years, but she had never once been this frightened, as Poppy Pomfrey fussed over the invalid in her care. Severus lay bare-chested on the bed and the cursed silver scars, and fresh cuts were on show to all present. Hermione knew he wouldn't want to be on display like this and the thought of him waking up in disbelief both rocked and soothed her. If he woke up ashamed, at least he would have woken. Poppy had allowed Hermione to stay reluctantly. How could anyone imagine that she would leave him?
Albus Dumbledore arrived in a flourish of emerald green the moment he received word. He stood beside Hermione's chair with his hand on her shoulder; her body shuddered as he did. They both watched over the man. His pallor was paler than usual and with his jet hair pulled off his face, he looked softer. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were shut; his eyebrows couldn't furrow and his mouth would not sneer. It was unsettling to see him like this, and it seemed that Dumbledore shared the opinion. His voice was fairly chipper, but the deep grooves of his worried lines assured her that she was not the only one who was frightened. That did nothing to calm her nerves.
Of all of the things that she could say about the man, he was at least always in command and always in control. Why now, did he look ready to come apart? What did he know that she didn't? Or was he as in the dark as she was? Perhaps that was the root of his worry. That for once he didn't know something.
Albus beckoned Pomfrey and jutted his chin towards Severus.
"What's going on, Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey mirrored both of their expressions.
"I don't know", she said, and her eyebrows drew deeper and lower than either Albus or Hermione's. "I'm stumped. I've put him into a magically induced coma because the best I can do for him right now is to ensure that he rests. Albus, tell me... why does he look like he's been through a war already?"
Dumbledore shot a glance at Hermione, but she didn't know him well enough to read it. Was it fear? Or perhaps conspiracy?
"He's been through much", Dumbledore said gently. "I do not believe it is my place to tell you exactly what he's been through, but as you well know he plays spy for us. He goes to Lord Voldemort. Voldemort is, I doubt you will be surprised, not a pleasant person to be around. Even if you are in his favour."
Hermione drilled her eyes into the side of Dumbledore's head because he would not turn to look at her. It wasn't fair that he was airing his secrets like this? Why was it anyone's business what The Dark Lord did to him? She supposed that it might be in Severus' interests for his caregiver to know what she was up against and so Hermione dropped her gaze and took in the vision of the man she loved.
"From what I can tell", Pomfrey said, rearranging Severus' cushion, "he has taken a lot of spell damage. It looks like the Cruciatus curse... and something else - these scars, they are from deep lacerations. It almost looks as though they have never truly healed."
"It's Sectumsempra", Hermione said with a wary look at Dumbledore. "It's his own spell. Thankfully that means he knows the counter-curse."
Pomfrey nodded.
"Thankfully, indeed. I wouldn't know how to even begin to treat it."
"I was going to ask Severus to teach it to you all, actually. It seems that a lot of the Death Eaters know to use it and we would be wise to learn how to reverse it."
"Yes. When we get him all sorted, I'll be sure to ask him to teach me. Unless... you know it, Miss Granger?"
Hermione's eyes dropped to the ground.
"I know it, but I doubt I could perform it" she said.
Poppy seemed to understand and a wave of shame washed over Hermione. Why had she not learnt it? Why had she let her magic go stale?
"We'll just have to keep an eye on him and see how he gets on", Poppy said, looking at Hermione, and then up to Dumbledore. Hermione had almost forgotten he was there in his silence. "There's little else we can do in the meantime."
"He'll be okay?"
"Yes. I don't see why not", Poppy said confidently. "My best guess is that his body has been under too much stress and he collapsed. He's still young and fit. However, he might benefit from playing with the good children instead of the bullies for a little while, but yes, Miss Granger, there is no reason that he would not make a full recovery in no time at all. I will keep you updated, if you would like to go back to your quarters?"
Hermione shook her head firmly.
"I'd like to stay, if I can?"
Pomfrey nodded reluctantly.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside Hermione.
Hermione nodded, and a prickle of irritation buzzed along her spine as he dropped himself on to the chair. She didn't want him here. She didn't want Poppy here either, truth be told. She wanted to be alone with him. A part of her was sure that he'd wake up if everybody just stopped fussing about him all the time; he never liked the attention.
Although, she thought, that might be exactly what he needs. He'd surge back to consciousness just to tell everyone to piss off and leave him alone.
She urged him to snap his eyes open and his mouth to frown. God, did she really even miss his scowl?
Dumbledore shifted on the chair to make himself more comfortable. He turned to Hermione, and she felt his gaze on her temples. She tried to ignore him, but when the urge to see the expression on his face overcame her, she was surprised to see that he was smiling. It was a rueful smile, but a smile all the same.
"I have no doubt that he will be just fine, Hermione."
Hermione narrowed her eyes as she responded, ignoring the purposeful use of her name.
"Well let us hope so... because if he's not, it will surely be a stain on your conscience?"
If Dumbledore was taken aback by Hermione's vitriol he did not show it.
"Quite right..." he said, "... it would be."
Hermione shuddered. His acceptance had unsettled her; she fell from her high horse and crashed to the ground.
"Sorry", she said. "I don't mean to be rude. I'm just... afraid, I guess."
"Of course you are", he said with a gentle nod of his head.
He gazed at her through his half-moon spectacles.
"And you are angry with me", he said, wisely. "I do understand your anger, and though I may deserve it, I hope that you will not hold me in contempt forever. I am a very busy man and I'm not sure I have time to apologise repeatedly. As such, I would like to make a sweeping declaration of apology to both you and Severus. Although, I will reserve his for when he is awake to hear it. I did not know the full extent of the awful position that he has been in. I thought that it was physical pain... that he..."
Dumbledore looked like a man much older than even he, as though he had ages thirty years all at once.
"But you know now? You know what he's been putting himself through, thinking that he does so on your orders?"
"He is visibly deeply scarred from what looks like years of torture, which I had expected, even though I did not like it. He has been through the same on and off for these twenty years past. However, in a recent conversation, I heard him use such words as 'violation' and 'degradation'. So, yes, I now have a fairly good idea of what he has been subjected to these last few months. I would like to make it known that I did not intend for him to end up in that position - I suggested that he befriend the Lestranges, I did not expect him to... well... I don't think I truly understood what they were capable of. I was mistaken."
Hermione felt her fists curl into rigid glass spheres, ready to hit and shatter. However she was not angry with Dumbledore, which pleasantly surprised her, she was angry with Bellatrix. She still needed to learn to direct her anger to the right places. She would learn. She was like Severus in that way. Sometimes she just lashed out at the world because the world was cruel.
"We considered many an avenue" Dumbledore continued, but they were all dead ends. When Severus realised whereabouts in the Lestrange Manor the horcrux was hidden, I think he felt that he had no choice. I believe that he had come to terms with his decision, until, of course... you."
Albus smiled and gently patted Hermione on the shoulder, much to her chagrin.
"What about me?" Hermione asked.
"Severus' affection for you undoubtedly complicated things."
"How so?"
"What do you mean 'how so?"... How do you think? I do not know if he knows it, Hermione, but he cares deeply for you. How could that not complicate things? He tortures himself with misery, as his own perverted sense of justice. He betrayed Lily Potter, and he has punished himself ever since."
"I'm inclined to agree."
Dumbledore nodded.
"So then you understand? He went to Bellatrix... and he returned to you, Hermione. And - if it is not too far out of bounds to suggest it - I believe he went to her bed, and then returned to yours?"
"So he thinks he has betrayed me?"
"I believe so, yes. I believe that is why he refuses to allow himself to be happy. I believe he feels indebted to you."
She blanched.
"You 'believe'? But you're not certain?"
Albus burst with a true and piercing belt of laughter that comforted Hermione in a way she could not yet understand.
"I can't say I am certain about anything when it comes to Severus, but I do think that I am right about this. Don't you?"
"If he wakes up..." Hermione said with a smile and a shake of her head, "... I might actually kill him."
"When he wakes up, Hermione... you will have my full support. Although let him take a swing at me before you do, I know how he longs to."
Albus transfigured a cot for Hermione so that she could sleep next to Severus.
"I will leave him in your capable hands", he said. "Goodbye, Miss Granger."
Lavender stood hidden behind the curtain until Dumbledore left. The moment his fragile frame disappeared behind the hospital doors, she tore the curtain aside.
"Oh, gods! Are you okay? You're as white as... well he is" she said, jerking her head in Severus' direction.
"I'll be better when I know for sure that he's okay."
"What the hell has been going on? I know you said that he'd been having a hard time, but I didn't realise that he'd been wrestling a bloody bear... I mean, look at him."
Pomfrey yelled Lavender's name, and she rolled her eyes and bustled out of sight. Lavender nipped back immediately, squeezing her head through a small gap in the curtain.
"I meant to say... I get it now by the way. When he's still like that - no scowl; no sneer - he's almost... handsome... almost."
"Miss Brown!?" Pomfrey shouted from her station.
"Bloody hell", Lavender muttered.
"MISS BROWN!" came Poppy's strained voice again.
Hermione grinned.
"I'm coming!" Lavender yelled. "Keep your hair on!"
The scene in the hospital wing came into view as Hermione's eyes adjusted to the morning light. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey and a rather excitable looking Susan Bones stood around Severus' bed. Hermione's eyes shot wide when she realised that his eyes were open. She leapt from the cot and threw her arms around him.
"You're awake!"
She pulled away and he blinked wildly.
"Am I?" he rasped.
"He's only just up so he's a little groggy. He's fine though" Susan said.
Susan pulled Hermione into a hug.
"Lavender said you were a bit worse for wear last night", she whispered.
"Just a little bit. I'm fine though, thank you."
Dumbledore and McGonagall spoke to each other in hushed tones.
"I'm starving", Severus said.
Poppy clapped her hands with delight.
"Lovely! That must mean you're feeling better."
"Yes. Wonderful" McGonagall said, clasping her hand to Snape's shoulder.
They all stared at him with grateful awe, but nobody moved.
"So... Can I get some food or not?" Snape said in a bored voice and Hermione laughed from the back of her throat.
The sound brought his attention to her.
"Could you give us a moment?" Snape asked the room.
He turned to McGonagall then to speak quietly.
"Would you mind getting me something to eat before they let me starve to death?"
"You will not starve to death, Snape!" Pomfrey snipped. "I will sort you out with some food. Perhaps a nice broth?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands together with a low clap.
"Come on then", he said, "let us take our leave for now".
McGonagall moved in towards Severus and spoke in conspiratorial whispers, so that only he and Hermione could hear.
"I'll get the elves to smuggle you in something actually worth eating, if you'd like?" she said, squeezing his shoulder.
"God. Yes! Please do. Alternatively, if you could find a way for them to smuggle me out, that would be better still."
Hermione watched him with a cautious enjoyment. He seemed, almost... happy? It was possible that at some point in the night they had replaced Severus with a replica that had yet mastered the vulgarity of the original.
When the others had vacated the area, Hermione sat at Snape's bedside and took his open hand. Some of his admittedly limited colour had returned to his face. He, or someone with his comfort in mind, had pulled the sheet up to under his armpits so all that was visible was his shoulders and throat. The silvery lines didn't look so imposing in the morning light; or perhaps the rest had done him good. It might have been only the second time in his life that he'd slept past six thirty.
Snape gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you."
"You did, but I'm glad you're okay."
He smiled.
"I am, thank you. Listen..." Severus said, and he turned with a groan to his side so he could face her properly. "I don't know much time we'll have before Poppy comes back and tries to force-feed me salty vegetable water but I would like you to know that I've thought a lot about what you said to me in the library."
"I'm afraid I said rather a lot..."
Severus chuckled and clutched her hand tightly.
"Yes, you did", he said. "I think most, if not all of it, was well deserved. I'm referring specifically however to what you said about your needs, Hermione. You were right. I haven't paid attention to what you needed because my focus has been elsewhere - on less important things, namely fear and self-pity. I won't ask you to put my needs before your own anymore. I'm sorry that you ever had to."
"Thank you", Hermione said. There were no other words.
"I have not been kind with your heart. I have no excuse. I can only tell you that I have been ill-equipped to cope with the hand that life has dealt me. It shifted the world beneath my feet and I did not know how to adjust, can you understand?"
"Yes."
She could understand better than most.
"I've been afraid," he said. "It has made me cold... well, colder. I never will be again. Not with you, anyway."
Hermione ran her fingers across Severus' knuckles and pulled his hand to her lips. She kissed the back of his hand. She hoped that it might convey what she could not find the right words to express.
"Why are you telling me this now?" she asked gently "what's changed?"
"Well, for a start I thought that I would die, so that definitely puts things into perspective. But mostly, I am telling you because I have experienced life without you and I do not ever wish to do so again. I do not know what I can offer you, or even if you would want anything from me now. Even if all that we can ever have is friendship, then I will take it with gratitude. You have made it clear that I need to be more open with you and so that is what I intend to do. But if you would let me, I will try to give you want you need."
"Okay..." Hermione said.
She cursed her lips for speaking and her words for failing her. His eyes crinkled and his mouth became a light curve.
"What?" she asked.
"I have not felt at peace for the longest time, Hermione. I doubt I have ever felt it, but I have a friend in Minerva, I do not plan to ever return to the Lestranges, and you are here with me. If I were to die tomorrow, I would die happy. You see, that first night with you changed everything for me. From that first moment you let me into your thoughts, I knew what you had given me was such a cherishable thing. I was indebted to you. Then when you told me, in not so many words, that I had to get my act together and open my life up to other people, my initial response was one of concealed anger because you were telling me what I already knew but did not want to hear. However..."
He stroked her hand mindlessly with his thumb.
"... Once I had moved past that, I realised that I had already opened my life to someone - to you - and I had let myself become fond of you and I had survived it. Better than that, I had benefited from it. In a moment of madness, I decided that you might actually be right after all and so I reached out to Minerva before I could change my mind. She has been of great help to me. I have, admittedly reluctantly, been vulnerable and honest with a handful people at her encouragement and... well, insistence."
Hermione nodded and her head spun with his words.
"Love, there is so much more I want to say to you", he said, "there is much left to be explained, but it might be best done in private?"
Love?
"I understand."
He took her hand and kissed it.
"I should warn you though, Hermione, that The Dark Lord is ready to make his move. It will not be long now. Whatever you need to get done before the battle, do so now."
"I will", she said. "Thank you, Severus. I am touched by your candour. I'm so glad that you're okay."
Because you see, I couldn't bear to be without you. I don't know how I have managed this time apart. I am so changed by you. I have become someone I can be proud of because you have made me bold in ways that you never even intended. You have pushed me to better myself, and you have shown me that there is strength in vulnerability, by inadvertently showing me your own regretful vulnerable strength. I am so glad that you are happy. Above all else, all I have wanted is your happiness, even to my own detriment. All that is to say that I love you. I feel it in my bones; I carry it in my chest; the most beautiful burden. It weighs down on me all the time. Yet I am so grateful for it because it keeps me tethered to the world when I feel like I might float away.
These were the words that she could not bring herself to say.
She knew that he perhaps needed to hear them, but she couldn't be sure he was yet ready. If he had felt indebted to her for sharing with him her body, what sort of diabolical oath would he make if he knew that she shared her heart? What depth would he fall to, if he knew of her love? That was the sort of thing that could turn a desperate man to insanity. She knew it. She had known it when Lavender and Susan had alluded to it; perhaps she had known it all along.
She was a desperate woman, after all, just as he was a desperate man. She already teetered on the brink of madness at just the whisper of his returned affection. If he was to return her love? That could easily be the end of her. However, there was a worse fate - one that she feared above all else - not only that he did not return her love, but that he never could.
Severus had insisted that she went back to her quarters to get some rest, because she looked awful. She had been a little offended by his words until she'd caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her dark circles had dark circles. After a couple of restorative REM cycles, Hermione got to work on her werewolf antivenom. If Severus was right, and Voldemort was ready to make his move she did not have time to piss about. There would be no more going into Hogsmeade, there would be no more romantic drama; no more anger or resentment or missing people that she needn't miss. She would not waste time worrying or stressing about the things out of her control. She could control this. She could make that potion and she would be damned if she was going to walk away from it.
She didn't know why the image of Fenrir Greyback bearing down on Lavender and Padma had taken hold of her so, but she could not shake the feeling that next time people would not be so lucky. He was still out there, and the full moon approached. Even locked up in Azkaban, Greyback still lingered as a terrifying possibility. They had broken out once before. They could do it again.
Hermione worked on the potion until the small hours, and still she could not put her finger on the last ingredient she needed to perfect it. What she had was passable- it would probably work, but she didn't want to leave anything to chance. It irked her that she was so close. However, she figured that Severus could help when he was discharged. Between the two of them, she was certain that they would finish the recipe, whether they finished in time was another matter. Everything boiled down to time, in the end, didn't it? There was never enough of it. Not even a timeturner would help her now.
Hermione returned to the hospital wing later that night. Severus lay soundly asleep on his bed and Hermione crept into the room as quietly as she could manage so not to wake him, or the other patients. She took the seat nearest to his head and watched him with a quiet wonder. God he was beautiful, even now. How had she ever looked at him and not seen it? Hermione's thoughts were disturbed when she caught the sound of whispered voices from Poppy's rooms. She could not tell if the gasp she heard was one of thrill or panic. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but it was three in the morning and there was little else to do. She walked to the door to Poppy's quarters and pressed her ear to it. She couldn't hear exactly what was said, but she was able to pick up sentences here and there.
She recognised that first voice was Poppy's.
"... not sure we're not prepared... not that we have a choice... what shall we do?"
The second voice was deeper; a man's voice. Dumbledore, she assumed.
"... bound to happen sooner rather than ... we'll do our best... complete faith in you."
"... his heart ... say too much spell damage..." Poppy said. "... wait and hope for the best ..."
It can't be Severus? She thought. He was fine just this afternoon.
"... healers at St. Mungo's will know what to do ..."
Dumbledore, definitely Dumbledore's voice came in reply.
"... perhaps ... wish we could ask Severus..."
She'd heard that clear as day. It didn't mean that he was the man with spell damage to his heart, she knew that. Yet her palms sweat and her chest pulsed in spite of herself. Hermione couldn't ask about what she'd heard without admitting she had been listening in. She could inquire about Severus' condition and hope that they remained positive. After all, he was up and eating and talking. If it was not Severus who they spoke of, then who was it? She wanted to know and so she resolved herself to just be honest, well, economically truthful, and admit that she had overheard. Yet neither Albus nor Poppy came out of her quarters and Hermione felt the pull of sleep. She fought it - a tug of war of wills - but sleep was stronger than she was.
AN: To the person who questioned Hermione calling Molly 'Mrs Weasley' in the last chapter. I initially had used 'Mrs Weasley' because I thought that it would convey that Hermione felt uncomfortable around her, reverting back to how she used to greet her as a teenager, but that may not have come across so I'll re-read it and consider changing it. Thanks, you're a pal. x