Chapter 22


'The snake! Hit the snake!' she shrieks from the deepest of her soul as hot, prickling nerves literally pushing her past Harry and Ron, to shoot a stinging hex at the snake.

That horrid, foul, despicable creature lunged for Severus with no mercy - it should pay for it!

She can't wait to see it writhe in pain, which is why her eyes wildly follow the silverish light speeding towards it, to catch it while it's still in motion to strike again. Hmpf! Little does it know that it will sooner feel the pain of her hex, than hurt Severus anymore. But then suddenly, her perfectly aimed hex is hastily intercepted by the Dark with a loud grunt as an exaggerated arm swing flings the silverish light back her way.

It hits her at once, shattering through all of her body, and making her onto her knees in a pain unlike any that she has ever felt before. It's horrible, quite possibly the earliest precursor to the Cruciatus, and so entirely debilitating that she cannot stop the scream from her mouth, neither the burning tears in her eyes.

'No,' she grunts, frustrated with herself for not being able to shake off the pain and try to strike the snake again.

'Hermione!'

Whoever that is, she doesn't care! Even as hands touch her shoulders, adding to the prickling of her body, she doesn't care to do more than let out another grunt for own her weakness. If she wasn't so weak to pain, she would've managed to do something to that snake already.

'Are you bloody mental, Hermione?!' the hands on her shoulders pull her up supportively only to shake her. 'You could've gotten us killed!'

'The snake,' she gasps as she struggles to regain stability on the feet. 'Hit the snake!'

Whoever pulled her up should do that for her, because as much as the pain is starting to die down, she's not sure that she'll manage to do it herself.

'It's gone,' he replies aggressively, which snaps her into proper focus enough to look around and -

'Severus!'

He's –

And she's –

'Severus!' she cries in agony again, wrenching herself free to run to him.

He's –

She can't accept him slumping like that. The last time that she saw him, he was healthy. He was also unimpressed with her for keeping things from him, and then reminded her that he loves her, holding her so tightly that her happy laughter was muffled to her own ears. He'd been lenient with her, not refusing her request to spend the rest of the night with him, and now he's slumping there.

'Oh my gosh, Severus, hold on,' she screeches, skidding to him and falling with impossibly perfect balance onto her knees next to his drooping head, dropping her wand next to her. 'Hang on, I'll help you! You'll be all right,' she promises as she sits on her heels, all the better for her hands to correct his slumped head onto her thighs.

'Watchu doin' Hermione?'

'It's all right,' she quietly cries to Severus, completely ignoring whoever is talking to her. 'It's all right, Severus. You'll be all right.'

He has to be, please, she convinces herself as her hands around his neck fill with a warmth that she hadn't expected.

'Potter,' he partly coughs, partly whispers, his eyes moving around, probably looking for Harry.

'Harry!' she shrieks without taking her eyes or hands off Severus – if only she was perfect at wandless magic, she'd easily do something about his bleeding while she held him, not just sit here carefully holding his head.

'What?' Harry calls, but thankfully rushes over to them to crouch beside her on the floor.

Although grateful for his haste, she barely glances at Harry before she's back to watching Severus, back to making sure that the worst doesn't happen to him while her eyes are elsewhere.

'Severus, it's Harry,' she tells him, just slightly moving the hand keeping his head in place, to touch only two fingers on his face – she hopes that he can at least feel the little touch of comfort until she's able to do something for him.

'Take them,' Severus whispers, weakly lifting his fingers to show to the silvery liquid now coming from his eyes. 'Take it.'

'Take them!' she sharply repeats, snapping her head to him to find that he's only staring at Severus, not in the least moved to urgency.

'No,' Harry refuses instead, sounding frightened, which to her is no better than if he had remained silent and motionless.

'Harry Potter!' she spits, then turns back to Severus to confirm that he's still got his eyes open and only slightly releasing her hold on him. 'Hold his head now!'

She's not joking around with this! He'll be no better than the snake if he doesn't get himself together like she's telling him to!

Thankfully, he does, shifting closer to her just then, his hands reaching out to hold Severus' head, replacing hers over the fabric on his neck and the side of his head, and though he also pulls in a sharp breath, he doesn't comment on the blooding wetting his hand. It's just as well that he doesn't, because she doesn't want to be reminded that he's losing blood while she's tugging her bag from her shoulder onto her lap. Her right hand immediately reaches into it, digging deep into its depth for any empty phial.

Instead of a phial, she clumsily touches a book, then another one, and then a pen and … Ugh! Not that! She has no use for a balled-up pair of socks or maybe underwear, so she roughly pushes it to the side, and with great frustration searches further until she comes into contact with a potion-filled phial.

'No,' she cries out in tight frustration, and then she's retracting her hand to rather bring her wand from beside her, instantly pointing it inside her bag to summon an empty phial into her open hand.

'Here,' she levitates the phial between them, moving on to replace Harry's hands with hers. 'Get them,' she nods towards the floating phial, which he quickly grasps, starting to collect the liquid, little by little.

'Hurry Harry!' she cries, distressed by more than just his pace. 'Can't you see that he's dying?'

Can't he see that she can't do anything for Severus yet while he's collecting that?

'Hurry!' she pushes again.

'Hermione!' he harshly turns to her, his frustration very clear to her. 'I can't do more than this!'

'Are you a wizard or not?' she shoots, her heart beating too wildly for someone who needs to remain in proper command of their emotions. 'Use your wand to collect it all.'

'Yeah. Right. Okay,' he responds, moving to levitate the liquid away from Severus' face and into the phial.

With the last of the liquid clearing away from his face, she does the only thing that she can remember to in the moment, until she's thought enough about how to actually help him. Mr. Weasley had gone to the hospital when he was attacked by that snake, so she'd be selfishly stupid to believe in herself so much when she's barely emotionally coherent. It's with that thought that she carefully positions her wand over his head and begins to place a freezing charm over him.

Ever since the small waiting time between him calling for Harry and Harry arriving, it's been the only thing she felt confident to do for him. Maybe she just didn't like feeling the warmth of his blood on her hand, or maybe she just needed more time to put a plan together, but keeping him frozen and not bleeding occurred as the best thing to her, and so here she is freezing him from head to toe. The impact of it is colder upon her hand than she thought it would be, and with his head laid on her thighs, the cold penetrates through the fabric of her jeans to her skin.

He's too solid, too cold, her mind panics, and in the panic, doubt begins to eat at her.

What if she did the spell wrong, and what she thought she remembered from those brewing lessons in fourth year isn't really that? It was so long ago now, but what if that bit about freezing base potions to keep their properties properly intact until the brewing process could be continued again, isn't exactly like that? What if she was supposed to have remembered something to stabilise him before freezing him.

'Harry?' she breathes out in panic, looking at him just as panicked. 'He's cold.'

'Yeah,' he responds almost dismissively, just then rising to his feet. 'Come on, let's go.'

'Okay,' she frantically nods, adding, 'Help me with him,' forgetting that as much of her magic as she is using to keep him frozen, she can use to lift him without Harry's help.

'No,' he refuses, pulling a face. 'He's not going to survive, is he?'

He mustn't say that. If she did something wrong…

'Come on, Hermione, let's go,' Harry says to her again, looking every bit like he means it.

It's because of that, that she softly tells him, 'We can't just leave him here,' not even willing to say something so evil louder than a whisper.

'Yeah, we can!' he shouts, his eyes quickly darting to Severus' head. 'Look at him! He isn't even moving! And he's already cold, you said.'

'He's not dead!' she snaps at him, pulling Severus' cold head even closer. 'We can't just leave him here! He doesn't have anyone else!'

'For a good reason!' Harry shoots back, then looks behind him. 'Come on, Ron, we need to go.'

Appalled by his words, then him, she stares at Harry, disbelieving that he can be so crude towards someone who just gave him something of apparent value, but before she can reprimand him for it, Ron begins to speak.

'Bloody git that he's been,' he supports from wherever he's standing, 'it's no wonder that he's dying alone.'

Hearing that, something in her breaks; it breaks so hard that she can't even bear to look at either of them knowing that this is how they really feel.

'You two can leave, but I'm not leaving him,' she quietly says, keeping her eyes on Severus.

She doesn't care if they leave, she doesn't need them either, she can do this by herself, and she won't ask them for a single part in it.

'Come on, Hermione, it's Snape!' Ron tries, sounding less harsh than he did before, but it's in vain – his softness means nothing to her if he's going to leave her when she's doubting herself concerning Severus's life.

'Leave if you want to,' she replies with a scowl. 'I can take care of him myself, but just so you know, I would never do this to any of you! I would've helped you.'

No matter what, and how stupid of an idea it would've been to help them when they were begging her, she would've stayed with them, come whatever consequences later.

'I know,' Harry says, crouching down to her level, 'but it's Snape. He's dying anyway.'

'He's not dying,' she maintains. 'Stop saying that or just leave already.'

Fine, they can leave her, and fine, they can feel that way about Severus, but she won't let them remain next to her and feed her doubts more by the second. She's not superwoman that she can carry all of her hysterical emotions, ignore every bit of doubt and certainty, and still be resilient to her friends' hateful conclusions - she just isn't that able right now.

'Okay, fine,' Harry tightly responds, but just as she thinks she'll hear him get stand on his feet and leave with Ron, he begins reaching for Severus's frozen body, telling her, 'I'll help you with him. What do you want me to do?'

Hearing Harry relent, she very nearly jumps out of her body with relief, very nearly turns his way to communicate her gratitude, but remembering that she can't yet let her emotions escape her, she simply replies to his question, nothing else.

'I need to get him somewhere to lay down.'

'Dumbledore's office?' Harry wonders, offers, really. 'These are memories. I'll need to see them, I think. Dumbledore used to have a Pensieve in his office. I don't know where he kept it, but he'd bring it out sometimes, so maybe Snape hasn't touched it?'

She also never saw where it was kept, not even when she rummaged through Dumbledore's office looking for his sweets, she's only sure that as headmaster, Severus has it somewhere in his office.

'It's there,' she confirms rather sourly. 'It's in his office. Severus isn't a thief! He'd never betray or steal from Dumbledore. He isn't like that.'

Right then, as she finishes her defence, a small cooing sound comes from above them, bringing with it a comforting sort of warmth to settle around her. As comforted as she suddenly is, though, she's more curious to know how the change happened, but before she can tear her eyes away from Severus, Harry shouts an excited, 'Fawkes!' making her look up to find that there he really is, descending towards them.

'Fawkes,' she breathes out, so very relieved and comforted in one, and so close to tears she is.

'Hermione, Fawkes can take us to Dumbledore's office!' Harry excitedly says to her. 'I saw him do it for Dumbledore before. But wait, why is -'

'Oh, right!' she exclaims in a sudden spark of remembrance about phoenixes. 'Severus is his owner now. Why didn't I think of it? Fawkes,' she follows his movements with her eyes, 'can you take us to his office?'

In response, as though wanting to say something, Fawkes opens his mouth wide, then swoops down right after to circle them once and surround them in magnificent orange flames. In a moment, while wholly embraced by a comforting essence, she feels the pull of being transported through space and all of a sudden, she just knows that they've arrived wherever Fawkes brought them. With that thought, she looks around, and just as she begins to recognise the headmaster's office, McGonagall shuffles from around the table to meet them.

'Mister Potter, Miss Granger!' her worried voice reaches them before her feet do. 'What's going on?' she looks from one to the other. 'Is that Severus Snape?'

As if they know another Snape, she thinks, slightly frowning. And besides -

'We need the Pensieve, Professor,' Harry volunteers as he gets onto his feet.

'He needs the Pensieve,' she corrects by pointing to Harry with her chin. 'I'm – Severus needs -'

'It's with me in my office,' McGonagall interrupts, her eyes setting on Severus, carefully studying him. 'Severus wanted me to see a memory and I didn't –'

'Please bring it, Professor, Harry needs it,' she makes the interrupting this time, looking from her to Harry. Seeing that none of them feel her urgency, she quickly makes use of her magic to levitate Severus as she gets onto her feet.

'Certainly,' McGonagall agrees, 'but Severus, Miss Granger? My word, is he frozen? Do you need help?'

'I don't have time to explain!' she waves away, and knowing her way into his private room, moves right on without more to the woman.

Though she's careful enough to watch that he doesn't bump into anything on their way, it's a hasty, quite necessary sort of carefulness, because while he may be preserved in an unmoving, unchanging state, that isn't to say that she can take as much time as she wants to. It's for that reason that she hurriedly sets him on his bed as soon as they enter his bedroom, barely makes sure that his posture isn't damaging to his body, before dashing to the first cabinet in his bathroom in search for his potions.

She isn't sure where he keeps his potions, but the bathroom would be a good place to start – normal people tend to keep their medicine in their bathrooms. Sure enough, upon flinging the cabinet open, she comes eyes to phials of potions, only, not a single one of them is labelled.

'Ugh!' she expresses with a dropping spirit.

He must have a magical way of labelling his potions, she's sure, but running out of time to guess which identifying method he uses, she turns away, her mind already thinking of what else she can try.

That one time after Bellatrix, he'd given her a potion that would stop the progression of dark curses until she could find him, she remembers. But a snake bite doesn't exactly equal to a dark curse. And besides, her bag… She can't feel it on her shoulder, and that can only mean that in the rush of things, she dropped it where they were.

'Hmgh!' she slaps her forehead for her inattention – she never thinks well when she should!

Actually, what she should do now is not waste more time standing here. She should rather go and see of McGonagall, Dumbledore or anyone who can help her with him, because clearly, she isn't prepared to treat him.

'Look after him, please,' she pleads to Fawkes, who is settled on Severus' chest as if standing guard. 'I won't be long. I'm only getting help for him.'

And then she's dashing through the door, barely catching Fawkes' sound of a response, and in nearly no time at all, she's running down the headmaster's office staircase and sprinting towards the Hospital Wing as her mind told her to do. She could've asked the portraits for help, she even could've looked for McGonagall while she was at, but her mind reasoned that that would've taken up more time, and so she settled on Madam Pomfrey. She runs to the fastest of her ability, turning here and there, and after what feels like a long while, she bursts through the infirmary.

'Madam Pomfrey!' she calls out, halting for a second in search of the woman with her eyes, but only being met by silent, solemn bedridden faces, she picks up walking further inside, asking, 'Where's Madam Pomfrey?' to no one in particular - just so long as she gets an answer.

She doesn't get one, though, not a peep comes from anyone, and looking at them carefully, realising that they're bedridden while literally under the threat of a dark wizard, she can't blame them for keeping quiet. Still, her urgency can't bring itself to sympathise with them more than acknowledgement, which is why she returns to searching for Madam Pomfrey with both her eyes and feet. She goes through each connecting space, pulls back every curtain and tapestry and still doesn't find who she's looking for. Like that, she's forced to run out of the Hospital Wing, although luckily doesn't have to run further than six steps before she finds the madam rounding the first corner.

'Madam Pomfrey!' she exclaims in relief, audibly out of proper breath. 'I need your help!'

'What is it?' Madam Pomfrey asks, oddly looking down at the pot in her hands. 'I'm terribly in a hurry.'

Considering her apparent hurry and magic, it's rather strange for the woman to be carrying the pot in her hands, but that's not important. She instead stops in the path, keeping both of them blocked from moving unless they step around each other.

'Please,' she begins, 'I only need to know how to treat a snake bite.'

'A snake bite?' she's questioned, the other witch beginning to search her face and body until she settles on her hands at her sides. 'Are you bleeding, Miss Granger? I have people badly cursed, people with arms falling off, not to mention those petrified with fear for all that is taking place, could a snake bite wait?'

It isn't simply a snake bite, 'It's urgent, Madam,' she begs, anxiety eating at her that she begins to scratch her palms over and over. 'He's likely poisoned and he'll die if I don't do something.'

'Who?' the older woman wonders through a soft sigh, curious eyes boring into hers.

'Please, Madam Pomfrey,' she continues to beg as she's only concerned with getting the right information, nothing else, 'only tell me what to give him and how much. He'll die, please.'

'All right,' the woman nods. 'Uh, anti-venom for dragons and crab plants. They are not equivalent, but perhaps a measured dose of each might combat the snake venom. Not too much of the dragon, dear – it's highly concentrated and can be too dangerous. A quarter of the standard measure should be enough. As for the crab, three standard measures at half intervals should do to hold him over for a while. His bite wounds should be small holes that can be dealt with later, give them no priority for now. Get him only what I tell you and he should be fine to recover.'

What?

She's supposed to understand half intervals and standard measures?

Despite completely not understand any of that, what comes from her mouth is, 'You have them both?' in the hope that she will be able to figure it out once she has them in her hands.

'Yes, in the storeroom,' comes the sturdy reply, 'but I don't have the time to look for them. I have too many serious injuries to attend to.'

'Are they labelled?' she presses again, this time putting her feet into gear to take off as soon as she receives every answer – which should be soon.

'Yes.'

Oh good, that's such a relief to hear; finally, she's getting somewhere.

'And the measuring instruments?' she asks for her own accuracy, because as sure as her name is Hermione Granger, she'll figure out the measuring standards and intervals - she really will.

'In a cupboard inside there,' she points around to the infirmary. 'They shouldn't be hard to find.'

'Thank you,' slips out of her mouth before she dashes off back the way she came, where moving with great speed, she finds everything in a jiffy.

With the potions and instruments in hand, she rushes back to his office, where she finds the Pensieve glowing on his table, and Harry nowhere to be seen. He must be inside, of course, but her business isn't to find out where he really is, which is why she doesn't pay his whereabouts another thought. Her attention is too set on getting back into the bedroom, reaching his bed, and finally climbing onto the bed to kneel beside his chest for a better view of his face.

'Severus?' she calls even though he won't answer her. 'I'm going to give you some potions, but they might taste vile.'

Of course, she's never tasted either of those potions, it's only that she has to tell him something to prepare him for it. As she prepares the potions, placing them on the bed and readying her wand to begin unfreezing him. If her hands are shaking, or if she's fumbling around, she doesn't care about it, her only worry is that she might do something wrong in the process of trying to treat him.

'I won't,' she breathes to herself softly, one part bracing herself and the other begging herself to it together for his life's sake.

She can do this; she breathes in, and then out, then closes her eyes, thinking about him, and -

He didn't hesitate when it was time to remove that horrid mark from her. Even knowing that it would hurt her, he got on with it until she was free, and like that, without words, he taught her that what must be done, must always be done regardless.

All right; she breathes out, then opens her eyes, feeling as ready as she can be under the circumstances.

With those two stabilising words, she begins lifting the freezing charm, doing so gradually so as not to overwhelm his system. Too fast a switch and too sudden a fluctuation may interrupt everything. Like it is with working on a frozen potion, his body temperature has to be just right to accept the potions the right way.

To make certain that it is, she places her on his forehead, attentively noting his thawing temperature until his skin tells her that he is ready to receive the first potion. Before feeding him anything, though, she takes the extra step of leaning her ear down to his face to listen to his breathing, while her palm waits over his chest for the feeling of breath being taken.

He is breathing, she confirms.

And so the potion for crab plants venom is first down his throat, followed by her biting her lip in anticipation and her eyes keen with waiting for any flinch any flinch of a reaction. Now, should she add the lethal dragon venom fighter and overdo it, or just wait for the first half interval – however long that is?

Think, Hermione Jean, her mind stresses, think!

She just wants him better!

She wonders, now that he's fully restored to his usual warm state, does he taste it at all? Her eyes quickly fly to his neck, but because it's still covered by fabric, she doesn't see anything. Even so, she pulls out her wand and speaks the simplest mending spell from their third year. She hopes very much that it does what it ought to, because she won't tear his clothes off just to take a look at his neck. Actually, she can –

'Hermione!' softly but sturdily sounds from the door, and confused, she looks in that direction.

'What?' she breathily wonders – she's displaced enough as it is, just what can't wait?

'Snape was always on our side,' he tells her, his eyes shifting to Severus. 'He planned everything with Dumbledore. I saw it.'

That isn't news to her, but she still nods, acknowledging him, only to go back to attending to Severus. Not even wondering if Harry left yet, she pours the slightest drop of the dragon potion into a spoon then feeds it to him.

'He always loved my mother too,' Harry speaks again. 'I didn't know.'

Now that is news to her. As much as she hadn't expected to hear something like that, her heart feels to stop at the staggering bit of information. All that she ever knew was that Severus disliked Harry's dad, not that he loved Harry's mum, and because of that, she returns her face to Harry, silently asking him to explain what he just said.

'He's always hated Vold- Riddle for killing her,' Harry says with passion, his face contorting. 'It's the reason for everything.'

Everything, what everything? Everything everything? Because... Looking back at Severus, a sour feeling invades her, a feeling so unwelcome that she shifts her attention back to Harry.

How can he tell Harry that and not her?

'And I have to die,' Harry drops once their eyes lock; it's like he needed that small pause from before to make the announcement.

'Harry...' she tries to say something and keep the feeling that's rising, feeling so...

Ugh.

She understands his need to say it, to hear it aloud from his own mouth and then accept it in its entirety, but that doesn't stop the admission from making her cold all over. On top of Severus, probably already so close to dying, she just... Closing her eyes and biting down on her tongue, she just...

She won't cry.

Crying doesn't solve anything – she's heard that enough times, but she just wishes that he was awake to drill it into her...

'Severus,' she whispers with closed eyes, and if she said that it didn't hurt her to say his name, she would be lying.

'I need to go, Hermione,' she hears him say. 'I need to die.'

'Wait,' she softly stops him even though he doesn't sound to make any move to leave.

Opening her eyes then, also clutching the potion and measuring spoon in her hand, she then clumsily climbs off the bed, taking a big leap to throw her arms around his neck. Ever-so-tightly, she pulls him into her for a combination of things; so as not cry, as that will help nothing, for Severus who's probably fighting to live, for Harry who really has to die, and for her parents who might never hear from her ever again if this is truly how things are progressing.

She didn't expect that something would happen to Severus, just like she didn't conclude that Harry would have to die, but since they are here, if she somehow manages to survive and neither Severus nor Harry so, she'll only be left with Ron-

'Ron!' she remembers, suddenly pushing away from Harry to clamping a hand over her mouth, to which Harry nods, understanding exactly what she means.

'We left him there,' he unnecessarily points out.

'We need to go back for him,' she corrects, mentally kicking herself for forgetting about Ronald – it's at least the first step to correcting their mistake.

'I can't,' he shakes his head. 'I have to, you know, find him.'

He mustn't say that, she closes her eyes, hating that line of talk again. Can't he just…? The Dark Lord ran away, and she doesn't think that he'll try anything again after what she tried to do to his snake. Still, as much as she wishes that she could keep her eyes closed and think of things like that, she opens them to look into his.

'It doesn't need to be tonight, Harry.'

'It does,' he shakes his head again. 'I don't fancy sleeping knowing that I'll have to die, you know? He needs to kill me tonight. Just be careful, Hermione. Ron too. Take care of him.'

It's not fair, she complains through her mind scrambling to find something to keep Harry from going, why should everyone around her, the people that she cares about, be so stubbornly set on getting the things done in spite of the consequences to follow them? Why couldn't she just have gravitated to group of do-gooders with no strong sense of justice and responsibility?

'I wish you didn't have to die,' she whispers, tears prick in her eyes, but she swears that she won't let even one of them fall.

She's even going to stifle the need to fling her arms around him again and hold him so that he doesn't leave her to go and die. Knowing what she knows, more so considering some of Severus' last to words her, letting it happen is all that she is supposed to do.

'Be careful, Harry,' she says instead, her hand reaching out to touch his forehead, a single finger tracing his cursed scar - does he even know that he's also a Horcrux?

'How careful can I be really, when I'm going to die anyway?' he laughs a little, making light of his path, except, it's not in the least funny to her.

If anything, it's gut-wrenching, so much so that she draws her fingers away from him only to push forwards and pull him into the very hug that she wasn't supposed to; oh, she's such a weakling.

'You're the bravest person I know, Harry,' she encouragingly says into his hair, her free hand stroking it.

'I will never be braver than Snape,' he refuses, just then easing out of her hold to look her in the eyes. 'He put himself in danger all these years to avenge my mum.'

Looking his eyes, and taking his words in, she only wants to cry. Not only did she not expect him to say something positive about Severus, it also sounds like a little close to approval of Severus as a person. It may not be the right time to think of that, but it's an odd sort of comfort to her. But then again, Harry has always been like that, always so fast to forgive. He easily forgave Sirius after believing that he'd been responsible for his parent's death, and just earlier, he'd felt sorry for Malfoy in the Room Of Requirement.

'Harry -'

'Listen, I need to go, but he'll live, won't he?' he interrupts her, seemingly knowing where she's bound to go. 'You did your best on him?'

'I hope so,' she whispers.

And she really does, because the opposite would shatter her.

'Okay, so tell him that - tell him something, Hermione,' he presses. 'Make sure that he knows - maybe he'll care to know. We weren't friends like you and him, but maybe...'

Understanding what he means, she nods, biting her lip, because...

'And you were the best, Hermione Granger. Even when you made me do homework and chewed my ear off nonstop, telling me what to do, but never liked it when I did it with you, you were always the best. I wouldn't change anything about you.'

Speechless, more so by the fact that her throat is growing more constricted by the second, she only moves her head to communicate her answer to him.

'And take care of Ron, okay?' he touches her shoulder. 'I'll find the others and tell them about the snake. Whoever gets the snake, gets it, it doesn't matter who. It doesn't have to be you, Hermione.'

'It was going to kill him,' she reasons from the deepest of her feelings. 'I can't just –'

'Hermione, it doesn't matter that you don't do it!' he harshly replies. 'The snake has to die and whoever kills it, kills it!'

Having said that, he quickly turns away from her and bolts out of the bedroom before she can respond to him. Forced to watch him dash away like that, of course she's tempted to go out with him, and stand by his side when he finds the Dark Lord, but... Severus.

She looks behind her, back at the man sleeping in the bed and... No, she can't stay with him either. She'd like to remain her and nurse him back to full health, but she and Harry especially have been dedicated to weakening the Dark Lord from the beginning, meaning that she must put herself aside as well. Harry's ready to die, and she must also do her part.

Plus, there's Ronald. And the snake. And Bellatrix. And the Dark Lord himself at the end of it all. As much as she got to destroy the cup in the Chamber of Secrets and Ron, got to toss the crown in the consuming Fiendfyre before they ran out, the snake and the Dark Lord must still die; either by hers and Ron's hands, or any other willing ally.

But none of that can be done if she succumbs to looking after Severus while he heals. Half intervals and standard measures will have to wait, unfortunately, because she can't let everything go on without her. After all the sacrifice that she put into finding those dark things, she can't just suddenly end it here for others to pick up.

'Fawkes,' she calls for his attention, also dropping the medicine in her hand as she stands waiting for his answer. 'Don't let him die. I'll be back.'

It's decided, she's decided, and by the time that Fawkes blinks three times at her, she's halfway backing out the door before pulling it closed behind her. She'd been thinking to run right through the office without consideration for anything, but a slivering light from the Pensieve calls her to it, beckoning her to inspect it, where she finds individual threads of memories swimming inside it. At the recognition, she quickly levitates the entire thing to a cupboard big enough to conceal it, then satisfied with the fact that it's no longer in the open, continues to run out of his office. Down the stairs, she dashes, past the guarding gargoyles, to them come to an unexpected halt.

'Harry said you'd be here,' Ron emotionlessly says to her, his eyes solely stuck on hers.

Hers, on the other hand, travel from his hair to his feet, desperate to see that he isn't physically hurt. It was reckless of them to forget him by himself, especially in a place that the Dark Lord knows about.

'I am so sorry, Ron,' she apologises, beginning to move to him. 'We didn't mean to leave you behind.'

'You could have gotten us killed back there,' he says, still emotionless despite the severity of his words, and then holds out her bag, which she easily takes to replace across her body.

'I know, I'm sorry,' - he mustn't remind her – 'I wasn't thinking. I was just so worried about Severus, I didn't think properly.'

'You were only worried about Severus,' he pronounces in a funny tone, but it's how he looks at her like she just stabbed him that has her apologetically reaching out to touch his arm.

He moves back, avoiding her touch, and the resulting stab to her heart hurts her more than she needs to feel tonight – there's already so much going on and...

'Ron...' she tentatively tries and fails to say more, seeing as there's no point in denying it now.

Where Severus is concerned, she tends to be so impulsive that she at times acts on emotions rather than wholly being rational.

'What?' he snaps, which is a huge change from his conservative tone before.

'No, I...'

She's confused really, maybe a little frightened by his sudden changed, but she's confused.

'So, you and Snape, this whole time?' he asks, nodding his head towards the stairs. 'I may not be as clever as you, but I worked it out, you know. Remember how I figured that we could use one of the fangs in the Chamber to destroy the cup? And the diadem, do you remember? I'm not dumb, you see.'

Offended that he would say that, she frowns at him, saying, 'I never said you were.'

'Come off it, Hermione!' he barks, turning inexplicably red in the face. 'You didn't say anything about Snape! You thought I'd never figure it out.'

'That's not true,' she tries. 'That isn't what I thought. I anyway never kept it a secret that I spoke to him. I would've told you, had you asked.'

He shakes his head, maybe in denial, maybe trying to get rid of a bad thought, and maybe only a breath away from calling her a liar, but it only causes a strange wave of nerves to attack her.

'Did Harry know all this time?' he steps close to her.

'He still doesn't,' her head shakes a little.

Now that he's going to die, Harry might never know that Severus is more than just their teacher to her.

He scoffs, then sniffs, and then scoffs again to end up saying, 'Tell me that you're joking about Snape.'

'I can't,' she whispers, because she's not stupid enough to.

Severus promised her that he wouldn't ever deny her before the Dark Lord, and so she owes him the same courtesy. Ron can feel how he feels, but she won't be as thoughtless renounce Severus when he is battling death, so she only stares at him with still prickling nerves.

'You're not going to say anything?' he asks, tightly amused by silence. 'You've nothing to say?'

What should she say to him when he looks like that? When he's making it look like she betrayed every line of trust that he had in her, what should she say to him? He's wrong, though, he... He – He apparently takes her takes her silence as an attack on him, because in a sudden blur of movement, he starts shooting short sparks of light from of his wand behind her, as short angry sounds leave his mouth.

Quickly, she rounds to catch where his sparks land, and if not for the guarding gargoyle moving out of the sparks' way, it would've been hit to probably shatter. That, added to her already grated nerves, provokes her to great fury with Ronald as she desperately turns back to him.

'Stop!' she orders.

'Yeah?' his tone seems to mock, but thankfully drops his wand. 'Why didn't you tell me?' he demands, all of his veins popping out. 'Were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to surprise me when you two were married, and imagined that I would pay you my respects then move on?'

'It's not –'

'When you imagined this in your head, did you see me being this pissed off with you?' he outrages passionately.

'Stop it, Ron!'

He's not being fair to her!

She's never been obligated to keep her feelings for him protected and untouched until he finally came around to liking her in return. He might have no memory of it now, but she used to break herself in half for him in the past, and now that she's moved on, he's the one upset?

He's not being fair to her at all. He's being unnecessarily cruel, actually.

'Oh great!' Ron exclaims, throwing his arms in the air, then does a little frustrated turn. 'Cry, Hermione! Cry, because it takes everything away! It rubs away the fact that you didn't consider my feelings when you acted stupidly. How could you!'

How could she – is he honestly serious?

No, how dare he?

How dare he want to tear her apart for doing something for herself? Is he really that ungrateful and unable to remember how many times he angered her?

'You're shameless, Ronald!' she delivers harshly. 'Did you forget that you left us when we needed you? Did you forget that?'

Let them begin there if they're going to blame each other for betrayals.

'And why would I have stayed?' he shoots back even harsher than she did. 'To see you with Snape? Do you know how that makes me feel, Hermione? Do you? You and Snape, Hermione? Why?'

Why not, her disbelief wants to thrust back, why not Snape? What's so wrong with Snape that she can't have anything to do with him? But they don't have the time to get into her relationship with Severus.

'It wasn't to hurt you,' she says instead, hopefully appeasing him a little bit, 'and I know you're angry with me, but this isn't the time. Harry needs us. I can't help him by myself.'

Following her plea, he only looks at her blankly for a moment, wherein she holds her breath, of course, just waiting for him to say something.

'Ron, please…' she tries again when he doesn't – he should understand her for Harry's sake; it'll will anyway not help them anything to disagree about Severus when it won't change anything. 'This is the only chance we have! You think I don't want to be with Severus and make sure that he is okay? He was with me after I was tortured, and I want to do the same for him, but I can't. You can't be this selfish either, no matter what. What will it matter if I chose him when everything's destroyed and we're all dead? We didn't come this far to fail now.'

Still, Ron keeps looking at her, only this time, his face changes from undecided to enraged, then morphs into looking like a struck puppy right before lets out a frustrated shout, shocking her to jumps back from him. He doesn't seem to notice what he's doing to her as he continues to shout out, running his hands through his hair, back and forth and again; he's losing his mind, and they can't afford that.

'Do you know what Harry's going to do, Ron?' she decides to bring it up in the hope that it will sober him up to the gravity of what's going on around them. 'He's one of those things. He's been all along and he's going to die.'

'Harry isn't going to die,' he snaps in denial, equally snapping out of his frustrated show then to look her right in the eyes.

'He is,' she moves closer. 'That's what he found out from Severus. I knew it, but I didn't want to say anything. Harry's more important than this. Please, can be angry later, but we have to do everything else, and we have to do it together.'

He continues to look at her for another moment, and then only seems to accept that, 'Harry's going to die?'

'He has to,' she nods. 'He's going to die, Ron.'

'I wondered if You-Know-Who would ever manage to off him...' he mumbles. 'He's going to die...'

For the accepting look on his face, she doesn't do more than bite on her lip. Maybe there are tears in her eyes, and if she says it one more time, they might just fall, and he might just break down crying as well.

'You're right,' he agrees at last. 'I left, and that taught me never to... Just... Your thing with Snape can wait. If Harry's really dying, we can't be divided right now. Let's just go.'

As he finishes speaking, more so surprising her by giving in at last, he grabs her arm to pull her along, but she resists his tug. Rather, she pulls him into an ever-so-tight hug, one made of relief and gratitude, also simply because as her only remaining support, she so badly needs him by her side.

'Thank you, Ron,' she pushes away, giving him room to breathe. 'We better hurry to help Harry. I think he's going to find the Dark Lord.'

'The Dark Lord?' he pulls a face, but when she doesn't answer him, he moves on to ask, 'Hey, do you reckon my sister knows about Harry?' as though nothing.

Harry hardly said a proper goodbye to her a little while back, so he wouldn't have gone out to look for Ginny or Luna just to tell them that he was going to die.

'No,' she shakes her head, 'I don't think he would tell her. We shouldn't either, I think. We should only tell them about killing the snake.'

'Yeah, okay,' he accepts with a nod.

With that, they are then taking off in a moderate run to wherever they need to be at the moment.


26Chapters


At some point during their advancement through the castle, a stern 'Miss Granger,' behind them calls for her to stop. She does, and so does Ron, both of them rotating to find McGonagall hurrying to them.

Reaching them, she asks, 'How is Severus?' with proper concern, looking from one to the other.

'I don't know, Professor,' she answers, looking at Ron first then at their teacher. 'I left him in his room.'

'Ah!' the woman accepts, but right after asks, 'And tell me, is he really with us? There are quiet rumours, and I must know.'

'He is, Professor,' she nods, looking at Ron, who won't support her claim, of course, but...

At least McGonagall moves her head in acceptance, also looking at Ron for a bit before saying, 'They're trying to break in, all for Mister Potter, and I wonder where Severus would have stood, was he unharmed.'

'Wherever he would've physically stood, he still would've been on our side,' she assures without faltering, even knowing that there is no way that he would've stood on their side while the Dark Lord was on the other.

'Mhm,' McGonagall sounds, seemingly undecided on what to believe.

'We're going, Professor,' she excuses, reaching to take Ron back on their way, except McGonagall holds them back with an outstretched arm.

'About Bellatrix Lestrange, Miss Granger,' she states to know through a fixed stare. 'Do not worry about her, leave her to me.'

What?

She doesn't –

'Oh!' she suddenly remembers what McGonagall might be referring to.

In her mind, the question if how she found out is there, it's only that in remembering his request concerning Bellatrix, she also remembers her part in his request. That being what it is, she can't let McGonagall take care of Bellatrix.

'No, Professor, I promised him -.'

'I did as well,' McGonagall interrupts. 'It's been a horrible term and I owe it to Severus.'

No, she can't let it be like that, it's that, 'I need –'

'Let me, please,' the woman tenderly touches her arm. 'It is the only thing I can do for him, and I rather think that I have much less to lose for dealing with her than you do.'

She thinks about those words for a bit, her mind telling her that were someone from the Ministry to find out that she killed Bellatrix, she might be brought in for questioning, although... She just... She looks at Ron, who in turn looks at McGonagall.

'You're gonna off her for how she tortured Hermione, Professor?' he asks bluntly, clearly taking McGonagall aback.

'Oh!' she clutches at her heart. 'Well, Severus, he… Oh, sod it! We're in a bloody battle! Yes, Mr. Weasley, I'm going to off her as you so crudely put it! It's about time that I – Oh, never you mind, Mister Weasley, I shall take care of her.'

'You promise, Professor?' she wants to know, because without an oath, she can't let it go.

'Trust me, Miss Granger,' is all McGonagall says and then she is doubling back the way that she came, her steps so smooth that it nearly looks like she's gliding on the floor.

'I bloody love that woman, I think,' he smiles lopsidedly, his eyes following McGonagall as she disappears. 'Never knew she had it in her to off someone. But I get it, you know,' he suddenly turns back to her and takes her hand. 'I'd kill Bellatrix for what she did to you too.'

That's all very touching, and her mind understands them perfectly, but, 'Severus made me promise to do it.'

It's important to him that she does it, in case he never gets the chance to. There's anyway that final blow of why she would die that has to be delivered, and neither Ron nor McGonagall would ever know that. Now what will she tell him if they both survive?

'McGonagall's gonna do it,' he assures her. 'We have something more important to do. Come on.'

As reluctant to let it go as she is, Ron is right. Also, it wouldn't be fair for her to now dwell on Bellatrix, when he listened to her about not dwelling on Severus. Because of that, she nods, accepting to put herself aside for her part in the battle that is going on around them.


26Chapters


Truthfully, nothing that followed happened too fast that she couldn't keep up with it. In a way, however, between finally reaching outside with Ron, just barely finding out that Harry slipped into the Forbidden Forest with the Dark Lord, then his lifeless body being carried to the waiting crowd by Hagrid, everything happened too fast. Although not as fast as Harry suddenly springing to his feet, and Ron just as suddenly grabbing her to run with him to Harry's side.

Now that she's here, back-to-back with her two friends, facing the Dark Lord and his crowd specifically, just how did it come to this? It's a real wonder that no one aimed or fired any spells at them – wow, fear of the dead coming back to life must really be a stunning thing!

'You didn't die?' she asks as the silence increases all around them.

But is she really surprised? It's Harry - the Dark Lord never succeeded in killing him. It's actually quite a funny thing when she thinks about it, the Dark Lord's incompetence – she could laugh at it if it clearly wasn't inopportune.

'Not really. He died from me,' Harry replies, 'but I'll explain it later. I have something to say to him first.'

'Go ahead, mate,' Ron encourages.

'Voldemort!' Harry shouts, instantly inviting a band of Snatchers to show up where they are, but like they are invisible, Harry looks around the one obscuring his view to the Dark Lord. 'I have something to say to say to you.'


26Chapters


They'd stood with Harry for a bit, and then away from him as he duelled with the Dark Lord with no interference, but as the Dark Lord lifelessly fell to the ground and the Death Eaters started disappearing, she didn't see the point in staying within the commotion. As fast as she ran, pushing through the people, only looking to get back to the headmaster's, she didn't think that anyone had kept their eyes on her, let alone followed her. Except, someone did, and that someone found a way to grab her elbow, bringing her to a standstill and then round to stand in her path.

'What?' she wonders, because there's really nothing left for her to do.

Again, they'd stood with Harry for as much as was necessary, and now it's over. What else is she expected to do?

'Where are you going?' Ron asks, clearly confused.

'I need to go,' she answers, just then wrenching herself free in order to take off again, only, he moves fast enough to catch her and keep her back.

'Wait,' he begs.

Gosh, what now? She needs to go.

'For what?'

'We need to talk,' comes his reply, his face set with a serious expression. 'Were you ever going to tell me about Snape?'

This isn't the time, her mind quickly retaliates, but what comes from her mouth is a tired, 'We can talk about that later, Ron. I have something to do right now.'

'Come on, Hermione,' he takes a step closer to her, 'we need to talk. Not just about Snape. All this,' he gestures around them. 'Today. What happened. We need to talk about today. Harry said Snape loved his mum.'

That isn't something that she wants to think about, and to communicate that to him, she closes her eyes and then sighs.

'I have to go,' she tells him with her eyes still closed. 'I need to check on him.'

Besides, she doesn't want to hear about Severus from other people, she only wants to hear about him from himself.

'Please,' he pleads. 'Just five minutes.'

Opening her eyes to him, something in his tells her that if she agrees, it won't just be five minutes. She understands, she really understands that he also has nothing left to do now that Harry's taking a moment to himself, but unlike him, she has someone to check on. Not only that, she also just wants to be close to Severus. Whether she'll find him awake or not, she only wants to be with him.

'He could be dying, Ron,' she tells him with quiet desperation. 'I don't have five minutes to give you. Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything.'

He grasps her harder, saying, 'Hermione,' but she struggles against his touch, leaving him no choice but to release her.

'I'll meet you later, I promise.'

Having said that, she walks off past him, not giving him the chance to say anything. In fact, to secure her distance away from him, she begins running towards the headmaster's office, where the only thing that stops her is the fact that she has no idea what his password is. Awkwardly, she stands looking at the gargoyle, hoping that he will recognise her enough to know that she isn't just one more person seeking to speak to the headmaster. But then just as she's about to beg the gargoyle to allow her entry, she remembers that he'd moved on his own when she returned from Madam Pomfrey.

'Please let me in,' she asks nonetheless, which he does, easily moving aside to reveal the staircase to her.

She takes two stairs at a time, that anxious to get to his side she is. Once inside his office, she barely sees anything that is the path to his bedroom, and in no time at all, she's tumbling through the door, only to come to a sudden stop at the view waiting for her. The small gasp that escapes her perfectly summarises her immediate feelings, if not her total surprise. On the other end, though, the two women standing over Severus' bed with their heads bowed down to him, merely glance her way for a moment, and then go back to looking at Severus' form as though she didn't just come in.

'How is he, Madam Pomfrey?' she wonders from where she is.

It's the strangest thing, but all of a sudden, she's afraid of going near him when those two accomplished women are there. Of course, she still wants to be by his side and make sure that he's breathing at least, but with those two there, she's bound to quickly learn what she's done wrong and where she's failed him.

'He appears to be healing from the venom, but his respiratory system seems to be infected with a common virus,' Madam Pomfrey responds without looking at her. 'I simply don't know what could have gone wrong. His breathing is not as it should be.'

So it's true then, she failed him in some way.

She must know how at least, hence the question, 'Did I do something wrong?'

'No, I don't think so,' the woman shakes her head vehemently, but more like she is trying to convince herself of the fact. 'It may be that he was already infected with something.'

Something like what? As far as she knows, there was nothing wrong with him when they met. He was more concerned about a small gash on her hand than he was about anything to do with himself. He even gave her his wand, which would've been stupid if he was sick with something… No, he wasn't sick before, unless someone –

Oh!

'I have a flu, I think,' she whispers timidly, and as if closing her eyes will lessen the impact of her admission, she does it.

Great! Just great, she infected him!

She's going to cry.

'I kissed him,' she remembers, truly wishing that she could take it back.

Yes, it wasn't a long kiss, but even she knows that all it takes is a small micro germ from one mouth to another to cause sickness. If only she'd been more careful. If only she'd been satisfied with holding him. If only she hadn't gone to him in the first place, leading to give her his wand. None of what happened to him would've happened. It's all happened because of her.

'I think that I infected him,' she chokes out, opening her eyes, expecting to see the accusation on their faces. 'I infected him, didn't I, Madam Pomfrey?'

'You kissed him?' she asks in turn, looking quite undisturbed by what she just asked.

'That's what she said, Poppy,' McGonagall seems to scold with impatience, which, as surprising as it is to witness, only redirects the attention – if one can't confirm the truth for her, the other one might.

'I infected him, didn't I, Professor?'

Nodding, albeit understandingly, McGonagall replies with, 'Quite possibly,' not at all concealing the possibility.

It's partly due to that, that she swallows her apprehension, takes a big breath in and then makes her feet move further into the room to have a better look at the mess that she has made. Because, yes, she's the reason for this whole mess, and if there's one thing that she knows about messing something up, it's that she must always find a way to clean it up.

'Is there anything that I can do?' she questions as she reaches the bed, looking only at him on the bed. 'Can I brew him a potion?'

'Not yet, dear,' Madam Pomfrey answers. 'I have done my diagnostics, and it is important that we wait until the administered potions have done their work. His diagnostics showed gradually progress, so we cannot mix too many potions at once. It could harm him more than not. He's been weakened far more than you can see, Miss Granger.'

'But he's not going to die, is he?'

She'll tuck in her tummy and hold her breath until an answer comes. A good answer. It has to be a good answer.

'Of course not,' Madam Pomfrey snaps at her. 'He will only need ample time to recuperate.'

Oh, that's at least good, she exhales, then bites her lip and then looks at the two women to ask, 'But he'll be healed? Could I help with something?'

Anything, she'd do just about anything to help him get to back to full health.

'Let Poppy to her work, Miss Granger,' McGonagall reprimands. 'She knows what she is doing.'

That isn't fair, she mentally argues, fixing her teacher with a wounded stare as she says, 'I only want to help.'

'I understand, but she cannot work with you hounding her,' McGonagall explains. 'You will have to retire to your Common Room, I'm afraid.'

'I want to stay!'

'You cannot,' the woman argues back. 'Do not force me to bar you out regardless of your situation.'

McGonagall doesn't understand, she made him a promise that she would. It would've been a triumph for her to stay with him when he clearly wouldn't have wanted her close to him when he could be summoned at any time.

'Can't I stay only tonight, Professor?' she pleads with all of her.

McGonagall doesn't understand, a promise is a promise, and if she could do only that for him. Since she failed to kill the snake, then failed to heal him properly, and then failed to kill Bellatrix, it's the only thing left that she can do for him, but the two women, clearly unaware of her position, only look at each other to simultaneously deny her request with shaking heads.

'I won't be a bother, I promise,' she tries, looking from one woman to another.

'It is mandatory for all the students to remain together,' McGonagall advises. 'There will be no exceptions.'

As much horrified as she is confused, she tries to refute McGonagall with, 'But Professor, I-'

'No, you have been through a lot,' McGonagall cuts her off, going as far as to start moving around the bed. 'Go and be with your friends. Severus is in good hands with us.'

'I'm not saying that he isn't,' she also moves to meet her teacher. 'I only want to be here.'

'You can come back in the morning, Miss Granger.'

It's said with such finality, and McGonagall is staring at her so unwaveringly that in the depths of her heart's corners, deep where she's carrying her guilt and habouring blame for her part in Severus being in this state, that immediately thinking to argue with her just doesn't seem like an option. Instead, she only stares at the professor, torn.

'Miss Granger…' McGonagall softly begins. 'I won't allow anything to happen to Severus. Trust me with him and come back in the morning.'

No, she doesn't want to accept it, but…

She's to blame, and she'll still be to blame if Madam Pomfrey can't focus with her there. Should something happen to Severus…

'I can come in the morning?' she asks.

'You may,' McGonagall nods.

All right, for Severus' health, she'll come back tomorrow morning. If anything happens to him tonight, though, she'll dislike them forever for kicking her out.


26Chapters


Before, she'd have died to have this moment with her friends, just to go over their close shaves and be thankful for their victory, but tonight... Maybe she's just ungrateful. No one in the right mind would be over the moon with relief at the defeat of a dark wizard and all of her friends making out alive, but here she is, feeling a bit out of place and oddly, out of depth as well. Approaching her group of friends especially, she only wants to turn back the way that she came.

Even feeling that way, she forces a small smile onto her face as a half-hearted, 'Hey,' leaves her mouth.

'Hallo, Hermione,' Luna smiles at her, as does Neville, who lifts his left hand in a wave to her, while Harry and Ron look at each other.

'Where've you been?' Ginny asks, as blunt as always. 'We were worried about you.'

Why, she wonders, looking at Ron. For one thing, Ron should've mentioned that she was fine, and for another, there'd been no immediate threat when she left them all.

'I'm fine,' she answers, her eyes shifting back to Ginny.

'And Headmaster Snape?' Luna asks. 'Ron told us about him, and that you went to check on him. Is he any better?'

'Madam Pomfrey's with him,' she doesn't even to try to lie. 'I think he will be fine.'

'So we can talk now, yeah?' Ron suddenly asks, apparently not wanting anyone else to ask her something that could take her attention away.

'Now?' she widens her eyes at him.

Please not now. What she needs now is to by herself, thinking and hoping for the best for Severus, while also thinking about what should happen from now onwards.

'Mum and Dad say we should go back home with them tonight,' he explains while getting up. 'We're only waiting for Fred to heal some before we leave. You promised, Hermione.'

She really, really, really doesn't want to talk to him about Severus tonight. If only he could understand her, but he's already moving to her like she's agreed and…

'Fine, let's go,' she agrees, but adds a fast, 'You too, Harry,' so that she never has to explain her relationship to either of them again.

Their whole exchange, added onto Harry quickly separating himself from the group, gets their friends' attention, but they pay no mind to it as they quickly walk through the hole and into the corridor. She's especially leading them away from everyone, because she doesn't want the others involved yet. Sure, she could shield them the way that she had done in the Forest, but she prefers them to be alone, just the three of them. Months in hiding have taught her to first diagnose the first empty classroom for intruders, and then charm it appropriately for privacy.

'Talk,' she rounds to them with arms crossed after all her spell work is finished. 'If there's anything you'd like to say, say it now. You too, Harry.'

Looking at Ron for a better understanding, Harry asks, 'What's going on?'

'I told you,' Ron begins, 'Hermione and Snape are a thing, but obviously Snape's in love with your mum, so he's just wasting her time. It's a bit embarrassing really, fancying Snape when he still fancies Harry's dead mum.'

Wow!

Like she was just slapped across the face for no reason, her mouth opens in a gutted gasp, and for the long moment that she looks at Ron's face, her mind is completely blank.

'It's obvious, isn't it?' he continues. 'If he could love her for that long, he won't stop now. He's only playing with her. Tell her, Harry!'

'Ron!' Harry lightly scolds.

'I'm not trying to be mean,' he holds tight to his position, 'but think about it, when I was dating Lavender, I still fancied Hermione. You all knew that!'

Hearing that, as though zapped to, her mind regains mobility. Firstly, it labels Ronald Weasley insensitive, then decides that he doesn't even know what he is talking about. Also, whether true and sincere or not, she doesn't appreciate his comments; what does he know about Severus? From her fluctuating heart, she oh-so-badly wants to tell him that Severus isn't like him, although considering him, maybe he does still love Harry's mum. She always suspected that he lived a life before her, she just never imagined that he would still love someone else while he was spending time with her.

'You don't know anything,' she harshly whispers instead of confirming what Severus hasn't. 'Besides, what gives you the right? I never once said anything to you about Lavender unless she was directly making me look bad. I kept out of your thing with her. I don't want your opinion, Ron, so don't give it to me.'

'It's not an opinion!' he answers calmly. 'You were there, you heard Harry speak. You saw Snape give him the memories!'

'So what?' she questions - that doesn't mean everything that he ever said to her is a lie. 'You still don't know anything about him. You're only trying to get me to dislike him with this. I know what you're doing.'

He's vile for it, just so he knows. Sure, she'd earlier coaxed him into being calm and pushing down his feelings of anger, and surprisingly, he's still that, but he shouldn't be mean while calm. It's starting to seem like he's only disguising his anger as calm concern. Really, it's leaning closer to fakery than anything else.

'I'm only telling the truth,' he maintains.

'You're –'

'Is true, Hermione?' Harry asks, quickly interrupting her. 'You and Snape, is that true?'

Harry doesn't look as seriously affected asking her that. It rather looks like he's just making an enquiry, not that interested in the final answer. For all she knows, he saw intimate things about Severus that have since changed his mind about him. Whatever it is, though, she still has to do her part in getting both of them to understand Severus from her point of view.

'He's not what you think he is and he lo-' she stumbles a bit, to then correct herself. 'He likes me as well.'

'I guess,' Harry scratches the back of his head, also smiling a little. 'I just never thought that you'd be snogging Snape. Snape, Hermione!'

'It's quite a surprise, isn't it?' she shows him a little triumphant smile of her own. 'It is Snape.'

If she had to begin with everything it means that it's 'Snape', then he'd understand what she sees in him. She's always been an overachiever, but getting Snape - out of the entire world - to love her, is the height of all peaks of achievements. If she's ever been proud of something, that is currently at the top of her list, although, it also fills her with some sadness that she didn't find out about Harry's mum from him.

'Not really,' Harry replies. 'I mean yeah, it's a surprise, but it's not all that much a shocker.'

'Liar!' she scoffs, her eyes straying to Ronald who's watching them.

'I'm not good with things like that, but I saw how Snape was with you,' Harry tries. 'Remember that day when you were crying and he came? And then you didn't want to hear that he killed Dumbledore? It's awfully weird, though - like thinking about Voldemort in love with McGonagall or something,' he shudders a little. 'Did you know about everything I said about my mum?'

'Not everything,' she fully looks at Ron. 'He never told me anything about your mum. Or much about anything or Dumbledore, really. I found out with everyone else.'

Nodding as if understands, Harry asks, 'And about the Half-Blood Prince?'

'I didn't know.'

'But you still like him?' he wonders, sounding partly uncertain, and when she nods, he comments. 'It's weird. It's still Snape.'

'You'll get over it,' she jokes, mostly to appeal to Ron's unreadable expression – she wonders what he's thinking about so silently.

'And, uh...' he tentatively looks at Ron. 'You really snogged him?'

Again, she nods, because why deny it?

'A lot?'

Not that it's any of his business, but if he must know, it's 'No more than you've done with Ginny,' comes her retort. 'And if that's all you're interested in -'

'No! I don't want to know about you snogging Snape,' he denies. 'It's just weird. I think Voldemort's death's made me... Weird, I guess. I feel weird. I'm relieved and all, but... I mean, I should probably care about everything, but I don't care about much, to be honest. It's like nothing's as important anymore. Is that normal?'

'I don't know,' she shrugs, looking from one to the other.

Honestly, she couldn't be one to tell him about what's normal and what isn't. She hasn't been fully inside of herself since she parted with a healthy Severus tonight. Then everything just happened, where all her focus went to keeping herself focused and her emotions repressed, and it feels like she still hasn't gotten back to being herself. Normal Hermione would've... She doesn't know, maybe normal Hermione would have done more than what she's done and...

'Maybe normal is feeling like this,' she continues to say. 'We didn't really prepare to defeat him tonight, did we? It all happened, one thing after another and maybe we've hardly – Never mind,' she gives off a little laugh.

She'd been about to talk about something that she remembers from watching something with her dad, but really, never mind – they wouldn't care to hear about that right now.

'I say you're all nutters,' Ron volunteers, making them look at him. 'You for fancying Snape. Snape for fancying Harry's mum. Harry for acting like it's nothing. You're all a bunch of nutters. You more than Harry, I reckon.'

Although still in line with his soft fakery, Ron's response is abrupt and not at all what she expected. To be fair, though, nothing has been what she expected so far. None of them are in their right minds then, she concludes, not a single one of them.

'Maybe I am,' she admits with a shrug, 'but I didn't like him to hurt anyone. You think I like hearing you both hate him to my face? I really like him. He's really nice.'

'Snape isn't nice,' Ron counters, scoffing after as if the notion is impossible. 'He's everything but!'

'He's helped us loads over the years,' she defends, because if that isn't considered a nice trait about someone, then the word's definition needs to be expanded.

'Whatever, Hermione,' he dismisses with a shrug. 'I know you'll come crying back to me anyway, like I did with Lavender.'

For the second time, Ron manages to hit the wind right out of her, leaving her speechless. This time, though, her mind doesn't stop working, rather, it easily comes to the conclusion that no wonder Ron is like this. In his head, he's sure that she's only going through what he went through with Lavender, and that in the end, she will come to her senses and choose him.

Wow, Ronald.

Whether it's the rejection that hasn't hit him yet, or it's the fact that Severus is not well enough to help her prove that she chooses him, something is keeping Ronald in some sort of denial. And yet, considering herself and Harry not feeling normal, can she really be surprised that Ronald is also like this?

No, she can't, she settles on, and so she turns to Harry, immediately moving away from that subject. 'Will you give me my wand back? Now that you've got the Elder Wand and all, I need to give back Severus'.'

She also just wants to go and be by herself, now that she's talked about her relationship. She'd been on her way to bed before she ran into them in the Common Room, if they remember – that hasn't really changed, only delayed by Ron's insistence.

'Snape's wand?' Ron studies her, and then begins to look for her hidden wand.

'He gave me his when he learned that Harry had my wand,' she says to Harry more than to Ronald. 'Maybe if he'd had it, he would've helped himself better when that snake attacked.'

But no, Madam Pomfrey's with him now, and she will not allow herself to think about what could've been.

'Yeah, maybe,' Harry seems to support, but something about his answer tells her to simply let the subject of Severus go.

Giving it attention might just circle to Severus being bedridden and her not being able to see him, and being what she doesn't want, she looks for an escape from that line of talk.

'You have all three Hallows, you do realise?' she presents to Harry. 'Especially the Elder Wand.'

'I rather like my own wand,' he tells her, ignoring the Hallows part. 'I'll only fix mine and toss this one.'

As he brings out the Elder Wand, showing it to her, she immediately reaches for it, warning, 'You can't do that,' as she grasps it. 'It's a very powerful wand.'

'I don't care,' he replies, sincerely chuckling about it. 'I don't care much for power, and I've had enough of dark wizards trying to kill me for power. If I keep it, there'll always be the threat of someone wanting it, and then I'll have to be a hero again. You have it, Hermione.'

'It's yours,' she softly reminds him, although does eye it; it's such a powerful wand to not want.

'If you don't take it, I'll toss it, honestly,' he refuses. 'If there's anyone in whose hands it'll be safe, it's you. You'd never use it for anything bad.'

Yes, but, 'Harry...'

'Oi!' Ron draws attention to himself. 'What about me mate? I need a good wand.'

'Ron, you got a big head as a goalkeeper,' he explains, not quite joking, though not harshly either. 'You'd be no better with this wand than me. Either Hermione takes it, or I toss it.'

It can't be tossed, she reasons, looking at the wand in her hands. It's a perfectly good wand, and even if she hadn't wanted the wand, she couldn't let such an important part of wizarding history go to waste just like that.

'All right,' she accepts. 'Thank you.'

'Yeah,' Harry dismisses. 'Now that Voldemort's gone, I really just want to sleep. It'll be nice to sleep knowing he's gone, and I don't have to worry about him anymore.'

Yeah, she nods to their silence.


26Chapters


After seeing the Weasleys off, bidding Harry and Luna a goodnight, she reasoned that returning to his office would be the better thing for her to do. She anyway wouldn't have liked to sleep in a dormitory where she hadn't spent a single day of her school year in, and so she's stepping through his office doors again, prepared to spend what remains of the night sleeping in his chair until McGonagall will let her see him. What she isn't prepared for, is someone already sitting in his chair.

'Oh, Professor,' she exclaims. 'I didn't know that you would be here.'

Ath the very least, she would've thought that she would still be inside with Severus if she hadn't left to her own office already.

'I am, Miss Granger,' the woman responds, sitting up a bit straighter then, which is a brief show of her relaxed state before. 'And I assume that you are here for Severus? Do not trouble yourself,' she adds without prompting. 'He is not in there. Neither is he in the Hospital Wing, before you ask. He is receiving proper treatment elsewhere.'

'Did he go to St. Mungos?' she steps towards the table, panic beginning to crawl inside her veins.

When did they move him, when she clearly said that she could see him in the morning? What went wrong that they had to move him to receive proper treatment? She clearly remembers Madam Pomfrey's assurances.

'No, elsewhere,' McGonagall tells her.

How can she -

'But you said that I could see him in the morning,' she cries accusingly. 'I was only going to sleep in his office. I wasn't going to bother him in there, but you moved him.'

She lied, essentially!

'It was for the best that he went elsewhere,' the other witch says as though she knows everything and can't ever be wrong.

Well, she is wrong!

And she lied, which makes it worse. If she lied to her about that, then what else did she lie about? What other lump will she have to swallow thanks to McGonagall?

'And what about Bellatrix?' her voice scratchy with disbelief. 'They said Mrs. Weasely attacked her, but she got away and no one saw her after that. No one said anything about you doing anything to her.'

'Miss Granger...' she begins to rise from the chair. 'You needn't worry about her. I have taken care of her, trust me.'

Ha!

'You also said that I would see Severus in the morning,' she throws in the woman's face. 'I trusted you with that.'

Shaking her head, clearly denying that she did any wrong, she answers with, 'That was for his own good. There's no harm in allowing him proper treatment without you there. Believe me, Miss Granger, Bellatrix Lestrange has been taken care of, however, if you require a wand oath to ease your distrust, I will give you one.'

What should she do, what should she do? McGonagall is her favourite teacher, and she trusts her to always be fair and honest. Even now, the part of her that likes McGonagall is telling her to believe those words despite the rising doubts.

'You promise, Professor?' she hears herself ask, and honestly, she isn't sure how she was able to.

Is she so naïve, sounding so pathetic like she hasn't destroyed a piece of the Dark Lord's soul?

'I swear,' the woman agrees, nodding to top it off.

Oddly, that's all.

Of course, she stares at McGonagall for a bit more, but really, there's nothing else that she can do. A battle of words and wits with McGonagall won't get her anywhere, and so there's nothing left. For that reason, she begins walking towards his bedroom, reasoning that she might as well sleep in a bed than a chair.

'A question, Miss Granger,' McGonagall calls, making her stop.

'Yes?' she sighs without turning back.

'I wondered, did you hear what Mr. Potter said to Voldemort about Severus?'

She sighs again, swallowing next, which seems to cause her heart to drop into her stomach, but she still nods her response.

'I am concerned,' the woman confesses. 'I can guarantee that no one else knows about your relationship with Severus, besides Albus, your friends and I, but Miss Granger, are you certain that you understand what that could mean for you? You are quite young.'

She is young, and she's also keeping quiet - she'll only keep quiet.

'I was reviewing a memory that Severus left me. I am talking to you, because I know what he told you about Bellatrix. Severus surely wouldn't have asked you such a strong thing if what Bellatrix did to you didn't touch him. Then placed next to what Mr. Potter said, I am gravely concerned for you.'

Gravely?

But still, she remains quiet. Until she's spoken to him about Harry's mum, she won't make a fool of herself by answering for him.

'Are you certain that he is the choice that you are making? I'd hate for you to suffer public indignation for something that is fleeting, is what I am trying to say.'

'It isn't fleeting,' she quickly responds, that close to spinning around and facing McGonagall to tell her that it's none of his business.

'I only need you to be extremely certain,' the woman advises in a soft tone. 'I would hate for you to experience a heartbreak at such a delicate stage of your life.'

'Thank you for your concern, but…' she just doesn't want anyone's opinion. 'I'm really tired, Professor. Can I go to bed now?

'Of course,' McGonagall sounds to swallow. 'Of course. Goodnight, Miss Granger.'

'Goodnight,' shortly leaves her mouth before she's moving her feet towards her destination.

Getting there, she goes straight to the bed, pulls off her shoes, climbs in under his blanket and then taking a deep breath, closes her eyes.


26Chapters


When she opens her eyes to a strange ceiling in the morning, she slowly turns to the side in search of clues as to where she is. As she does that, memories from the previous night come to her mind in fast flashes and whizzing images and overwhelming her so that she bolts up in bed, her hands rushing up to clutch her overworking head.

Oh, there wasn't a single thing that she did right.

Not to help Severus, and not to avenge him.

She was and is completely useless.


26Chapters


Eventually, when she manages to talk herself into getting up from his bed, no matter her hurting heart, she only disciplines herself enough to make up his bed and nothing else. Red hands, an unwashed face, messy hair and yesterday's stained clothes will have to take her parents. That is how she leaves his bedroom, whizzing through his office, down his stairs and all the way to the Gryffindor dormitories, where she goes to find Harry.

In the boys' room, she only finds Neville, Dean and Seamus asleep, and quite sure that he didn't go home, she goes to the Ravenclaw House, suspecting that he might be with Luna. Once there, she politely asks for the password, stepping in at its opening and though she's never been inside here, it doesn't take her long to find the girls' rooms. Much more, she doesn't enter more than three rooms to find the sleeping in one bed, each facing their own side, and Harry taking the whole blanket, leaving Luna with nothing.

'Harry,' she smiles to herself - how she remembers how he sleeps on his good nights.

The poor boy was so looking forward to sleeping for a long time without worry, she also remembers, it wouldn't be fair to wake him when she can simply write him a note. But it's Harry, she thinks, she can't just leave him without a word when she isn't sure how going to her parents will take. No, she'll say goodbye the right way, she decides.

'Harry,' she crouches and touches him like she's done so many times when they were in the Forest.

And just like he's done while in the Forest, he begins to rouse, reaching for his glasses as he always does. Something about watching him do something so boring and normal does something strange to her, reminding her of the bad things that she's survived with him, and now… She doesn't even know if he will ever need her for anything now that he's able to sleep in the same bed with a girl. She never would have believed Harry comfortable enough to surrender himself like that, but look, he is.

Wow, they've really grown up, she accepts with a hard lump.

That normal feeling that they were looking for last night, maybe it had been their definite crossover into adulthood and adult responses.

'Herm'n?' groggily leaves him as he focuses.

'Hey,' she whispers.

'Wasisit?'

'I'm leaving,' she whispers still, 'but I'll find you at Grimmauld Place, won't I?'

'Yeah, but –'

'Go back to sleep, Harry. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Tell Luna, okay?' she nods towards the sleeping girl.

'Oh, Luna,' he makes a closed mouth laughing sound. 'Yeah, okay.'

'I'm awake, Hermione,' Luna says from her side, but doesn't make a move to reveal herself, it's rather Harry who plumps his head back down on his pillow, giving them room to talk.

'Hi, Luna,' she smiles – she really thinks that she likes Luna, she's not one to pretend.

'Hello.'

'So, I'm leaving now,' she says, getting onto her feet, because they'll be fine without her. 'I'll see you as well.'

'I won't be going to Grimmauld Place,' Luna corrects in such a matter-of-fact way that she feels rather bad for the exclusion.

'I'll write then,' she says just to give some type of assurance, an inclusion really.

'That'll be nice,' Luna responds, a faint beam audible in her tone. 'I never usually receive mail unless it's from school or readers of my articles in father's magazine.'

'Yeah,' she softly nods, because neither does she, to be honest – it's only when she writes to the boys, and they write back that mail comes for her. 'So I'm going now, okay? Bye.'

'Bye,' Luna bids, prompting Harry to say his own, 'Bye H'mi'n,' to her.

Harry will be just fine, she realises with a special sort of fondness. Despite everything that he has gone through in his life, he will be all right. As for herself, she'll just have to see.


26Chapters


It took one Portkey to land her close to the house, and she'll need to take at least ten to fifteen directed steps to reach its door, but just seeing the brown of the door, looking exactly as she remembers it from their previous holiday, her heart begins to hammer inside of her chest.

What if her parents aren't inside there?

She advised them to return here until they got word from her that the Dark Lord was defeated, but what if somewhere during the time that they've been apart, they found a better one within the quiet town? Or worse, with no way to contact her, something bad happened to them and...

What if they aren't in there?

She'll need more than a few steps then.

Her heart beats faster at the possibility, forcing her hand to come up and rub over it soothingly. It's beaten faster than this, for far more life-threatening situations, but this particular thing being too attached to her heart, she's terrified more than she's ever been in her life. Seeing her parents is supposed to be the one sure thing to bring her comfort, but if they're not in there, she doesn't know if she'll be able to take it.

But no, she softly berates herself, she's getting ahead of herself. She should first step into the situation, no matter how certain she is, then deal with the consequences as they arise – Severus has demonstrated that to her more than one time.

That bit about Severus specifically, sobers her away enough from her nerves to begin trekking down the sandy path. As much as her feet sink deep into the sand, making it just a bit harder to move along, and as much her nerves bubble with the idea that she should take that as a sign to retreat, she pushes on, cleverly choosing to distract herself with thoughts of her appearance.

She must look a terrible mess; having last showered two nights ago, she can't imagine how foul a stench she must be giving off. Not to mention her stained face and hands. If anyone outside of the wizarding world were to see her, they'd think her an addicted teen who ran away from home and got into all sorts of delinquencies for the sake of getting more drugs.

Mhm, delinquencies, her mind dwells on the one word, Severus wouldn't have disagreed with that part.

Oh, Severus.

She hopes that he is doing well. That he slept well, not in pain. That he is healing well, not struggling to. That isn't aware that she isn't there with him, not conscious enough to think that she doesn't care to be with him at his sickest. Just as she also really hopes that her parents aren't upset with her for not writing them with news or sending them presents for important dates.

Her parents, her mind sighs.

She's at their door at last, and… No, no, nerves be gone! She'll just get this over with. One, two, two and a half, and… She pulls in a long breath and… Three!

'Is anyone home?' she calls out loudly instead of tapping on the door, and then closes her eyes in waiting.

If she'd gone with raising her hand to knock on the door, she would've stopped midway, prolonging the inevitable and flaring her nerves more than before. With speaking, she's clearly announced herself and even if she'd thought about running off, the unmistakable sound of the handle being pressed on doesn't allow her that. Instead, her eyes snap open just in time to see the door begin to slowly move back in opening.

'Oh,' leaves her mouth in light exclamation as the immediate inside of the house is gradually revealed to her. 'Dad,' she whispers, it being the best that she can immediately do, because seeing her, he only widens his eyes at her and…

'Honey?' he gets out in too loud a tone while looking at her, which can only mean that he isn't talking to her - but thank goodness that they're here; she's so relieved.

'Yeah?' her mum's soft voice calls back from inside the house, acting every bit the confirmation that she doesn't really need it to be.

'Could you come here for a moment?' her dad answers, continuing to look at her.

Is he in disbelief? Is he at least relieved to see her?

She wishes that he would say something to her - his silence is making her more nervous than not. She understands that he maybe wants her mum's opinion on what he's seeing, but - But he just doesn't understand how important it is that he acknowledges her.

'Dad?' she whispers again, pleading with him to give her some sort of indication that he sees her as she is – she needs him to.

'My God, Hermione,' he replies at long last, sounding the most in wonder, adding a soft gasp afterwards, which to her fragile heart, is the perfect invite to fall into his opening arms, mutter a broken, 'Da-d,' just as a giant sob erupts from her throat.