Home and safe. Those were the two feelings overwhelming Severus' heart as he drifted out of sleep. Keeping his eyes closed, hoping to get a few more minutes rest before re-entering the world, he noticed everything his senses were reporting about his surroundings that made him feel this alien way. He could smell vanilla, fresh laundry and - was that pumpkin muffins? His mouth watered at the thought, his stomach rumbling in agreement. When was the last time he ate? He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep - or for that matter, where. The sheets surrounding him were luxuriously soft, and the surface under him unbelievably deep and comfortable. Severus determined he was in a bed, not too different to his own in the castle - but the scents and sounds were too unfamiliar for that. As he stretched out, noticing an odd stiffness in his neck, he heard a woman humming tunefully, getting closer. Definitely not his dungeon rooms. A door opened, and the smell of fresh baking hit harder. Severus' mind raced - could it be that the woman who's luxurious, clean bed he must be in had baked muffins and was waking him up with them? No, that can't be right. Severus concluded with a heavy heart that he must be dreaming, however deciding it was not a fantasy he wished to end, he kept his eyes closed, hoping to drift back off. Perhaps if he could remember the events leading him to this slumber, he might recreate the pathway to such a delightful dream?

He remembered being headmaster of Hogwarts… But Hogwarts had fallen to battle. He'd failed to protect it. The Dark Lord had wanted the Elder Wand and… and…

Hermione carefully carried her cup of coffee and freshly baked breakfast up the stairs, humming away to herself cheerily. Saturdays were her favourite - the working week was behind her and all that lay ahead was uninterrupted free time to do as she pleased. As was her routine, she would spend the morning keeping her houseguest of the past 16 years company; curled up with a book whilst enjoying a leisurely breakfast, and occasionally remarking to him something of interest, or snarkily observing an inaccuracy.

Settling down in her favourite armchair next to the guest bed, Hermione opened a book she had not read for quite some time, and being very honest with herself, wasn't sure she wanted to read again. Still, a book is a book and this one was definitely free of inaccuracies and grammatical errors at least. She snorted out loud at that last thought - as the author was one Hermione Granger, after all! The book in question had started life as her diary in the months following the Battle. The methodical, meditative daily ritual of writing down all she recalled (with the help of a pensieve) had helped her to cope with the trauma lingering around in her mind, and realise it was all truly over. Voldemort had been defeated; Harry and Ron had survived; and Hogwarts was rebuilt by a dedicated team of volunteers. Above all else, she had managed to save a man who, as it turned out, was something of a hero. She had trusted herself, just as Dumbledore's disembodied voice had told her to that dark day, and it had worked out more successfully than anybody could have —

"I'm dead." Hermione's attention flew to where Snape lay nearby. The contrast of his dark features against the crisp white Egyptian cotton sheets of the bed was almost poetic. But that was not what held her attention for now. He was staring at the ceiling, his eyes processing what she imagined must be a terrifying amount of traumatic memories.

She moved to him, laying a reassuring hand on his, and his gaze snapped to her.

"Miss … Miss Granger? Is that you? Where am I?" Severus found himself unsure of his senses for the first time in two decades. For he was sure, certain, that the woman before him was indeed Miss Hermione Granger; but his conscious brain could not reconcile the teenager he knew with this, dare he think it, beautiful grown woman who had her hand laid on his.

"Professor, yes! Yes, it's me! Oh Professor, you're awake!" Hermione couldn't stop her thoughts tumbling out.

"So it seems, Miss Granger…" Severus sniped, sneering at her. A stung look flashed across Hermione's face, but overwhelming joy and - was that tears? - replaced it almost immediately.

"Apologies for pointing out the obvious, Sir, I just - I wasn't sure the day would ever come. I thought all my efforts were in vain —" Severus cut her off, his hand taking her wrist tightly, and eyes flashing with an evil darkness. For little did Hermione know, he had just remembered the last thing he saw before this awakening.

"Your efforts - YOU PUT ME IN THE LAKE. PARALYSED!" Severus snarled vehemently.

Hermione recoiled in shock, wordlessly, wandlessly casting a charm which slipped her hand out of his grip like butter, and retreating a few paces. However much to Severus' surprise, once out of his reach, the girl - woman - stood her ground. Staring down defiantly at him, he was stunned into silence as Hermione proceeded firmly and with a sureness he did not remember her possessing.

"If you would care to calm down for a moment, Professor", she sneered out the last word; "and listen before you rip off the hand that saved you."

'That saved me?' Severus thought, desperately grasping for memories which weren't there.

As if reading his mind Hermione continued, impassioned: "You heard me right, sir. I saved you. Voldemort set that blasted snake on you during the Battle of Hogwarts and left you to die. Harry, Ron and I watched you … you slipping away —" She choked back tears, which Severus thought rather peculiar. After all, as far as he could remember he'd never been in the Golden Trio's good books. Why would this witch be upset over him getting what he deserves?

Oh no. A fuzzy memory was forming of Severus giving his memories to Potter in tears. Unlike when removed via wand, memories contained in tears are simply a copy of those which remain with their owner. He felt the panic wash over him as to what this woman, and Potter - should he still walk this earth - had seen from his past.

Severus went to speak, but found no words forthcoming - rather, he began to splutter over the sensation of sawdust in his throat. Hermione lunged forwards, transfiguring her cup of coffee into sugary water with a straw and, gently supporting Severus' head, helped him to sip down some of the liquid relief.

His throat immediately felt revived, which contrasted nicely with the humiliation he felt at being so incapable, he thought wryly. Nonetheless, he had been raised with manners. "Thank you, Miss Granger", Severus murmured.

"It's to be expected Professor - your throat has been without lubrication for quite some time."

Severus smirked as Hermione blushed at her own words. But the last turn of phrase quickly dispelled such thoughts.

"When you say 'quite some time', how much would that be exactly Miss Granger? I imagine enough to explain why you look -" - He froze, in search of a more suitable word than those on his lips. To his relief Hermione let out a musical laugh and took over.

"Why I look so old?" Severus went to object but Hermione waved it away. "It's okay sir, I should hope I look older than my teenage self seeing as I'm now 34!"

The old bat of the dungeons looked paler than ever as he calculated how much time had passed.

"I've been asleep for… what, 15 years?" He stuttered out in disbelief.

"Not quite - it's been 16 years, and you weren't so much asleep as in a charmed coma. Poppy's own creation in fact - during your tenure as Headmaster, she could sense what was coming and began developing new healer charms alongside St Mungos and Filius. One in particular, for which you were her guinea pig -" Hermione chanced a glance at Severus, as amused at the thought of him being a guinea pig as he was insulted "- that works with the individual patient, keeping them in a magically-medically-induced coma for as long as their body requires to heal. Unfortunately, despite my best attempts to wash out Nagini's venom, some escaped into your blood system before I had chance to cast a stasis charm over you. This tiny amount remaining meant we were able to heal the major wounds with enough haste, but all of the recovering your body had to do after this was slowed down dramatically."

"I see you still babble as I remember." He paused, almost immediately regretting bullying this kind woman already. Quickly changing the subject as she blushed, he articulated darkly: "Are you are telling me that my body couldn't recover from the more minor injuries with me conscious?"

"Well no, as I said you were a guinea pig. Poppy discovered through the use of the coma charm on you that it would only undo itself when the body was in a completely healed state."

"So because of my use as a test rodent, I lost 16 years of my life - going to sleep before I reached 40 and waking up nearly 60?" Severus raged. He had given up so much for this war, and although he was still fuzzy on - well pretty much everything - he was incited by the realisation that the prime years of his life had disappeared as quickly as a scolded house elf.

Hermione sighed, sitting down in the armchair next to Severus and looking at him with the kindest face he'd known since Lily's.

"I understand how mystifying, confusing, hell - aggravating all of this must be. But please calm down, sir - things really aren't as bad as they seem". Severus scoffed at this last point, but Hermione continued, her hand lingering near his as if intending to comfort him but scared of the earlier wrist grabbing. "I mean it. If you would just let me explain before flying to conclusions." She waited. The man before her inclined his head slightly, lips pursed, hands clasped.

Hermione settled back into the chair, crossing her legs elegantly, and ploughed on softly. "If Poppy's charm hadn't worked, you'd not have lived to see anymore days, never mind your 50th birthday. That being said, you're actually not a day older than when you were last awake. The coma is a strong, modified sort of stasis charm really. It held your body in exactly the state I brought you to her in from the lake, allowing your physiological processes to heal only. Your non-damaged cells did not turnover. Your genes did not shorten. You are, for all intents and purposes, a fully healed 38 year old man."

Severus stared at the witch in ernest, trying to figure out how much of what she said was true. Searching her eyes, he saw nothing but compassion, honesty and… sadness. His body slumped further into the bed, and he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to rid his brain of the ache washing over it. Hermione shifted next to him but he ignored her.

"This is all quite a lot, I'm sorry. I'll leave you to gather your thoughts while I floo Minerva and Poppy - they'll be relieved to hear you're back with us. If you need anything before I return, give me a shout." With that, Hermione headed out of the room gracefully, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her, and headed to the fireplace downstairs with a spring in her step.