Another Story

Chapter Thirteen

In which Severus and Hermione have visitors

"Hermione? Is it all right if we come in?" called Remus Lupin from the doorway of the bedroom.

He wasn't sure if she was asleep or just sitting there with her head bowed, taking a moment to rest or gather her thoughts. By the way her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, he guessed that it was the former. She had dozed off sitting on the bed next to Severus, facing toward the door almost as though she were guarding him. Her eyes looked a little bleary, he noted, not to mention the circles forming under them. Remus knew that she had slept very little that night and he could hardly blame her. He wished that they, Harry, Ron, and himself, had chosen a more opportune time to call upon Hermione and her patient.

Remus' eyes drifted to the form on the bed, wrapped in many blankets against the chill of the dungeons. He could not see his face, but the raven black hair gave Severus away. He seemed to be sleeping too, but Remus could not be certain. It felt as though it were only yesterday that he had been awakened by Ginny in the demon world and told that Severus was badly hurt. He had padded in werewolf form into a room very similar to this one to find Severus lingering near death with only young Hermione Granger to stave it off. And here they were again. Severus lying in bed, wounded in mind rather than body, and Hermione watching over him.

"What?" asked Hermione groggily.

"May we come in?" asked Remus again, trying to manage a comforting smile, but the worry in his eyes gave him away.

"Of course," she said, looking at the two young men following him into the bedroom.

She was not surprised to see Harry. Well, no more than she was surprised to see Remus. But she couldn't imagine what had brought Ron down to the dungeons. Was he there to gloat? Her cheeks colored for a moment as she felt a rush of anger. Then she looked him in the eye and saw that he didn't look at all triumphant or even pleased. Ron only appeared to be a little nervous and uncomfortable.

"How is he?" asked Remus, stepping closer to the bed that either of his companions dared.

"He's awake," Hermione told him. "Or at least his eyes are open. I'm not sure if that's the same thing or not."

"So he has remained calm so far?" questioned Remus, wanting to turn her attention to one of the positive signs, instead of the more negative ones.

"Yes, thankfully," she said, closing her eyes for an instant.

"Hermione ..." Ron began to say, but stopped and shook his head.

He had never imagined feeling the least bit sorry for Snape, but standing there looking at him staring vacantly at the far wall, huddled under the covers. He felt a twinge of regret and even concern. A terrible thing had been done to him, and Ron wished that it had never happened. And when he looked at Hermione, he felt even more sorry because of the fear and anguish in her eyes. It was more obvious than ever that she loved him, but instead of feeling jealous or angry, Ron just wished that this would turn out all right for her, that Snape would snap out of it or something, because Hermione deserved to be happy.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said simply.

"Thanks, Ron," she whispered.

She had not expected him to say anything, but she was glad that he had done so. Hermione looked at the three people who had come to visit her and felt just a little bit better as she glanced down at Severus and absently brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. She very grateful to have such friends.

"When Severus recovers, I will certainly let him know," she thought.

"Is there anything we can do, Hermione?" asked Harry, not knowing quite what to say.

"I don't think so. Madam Pomfrey said that he needs rest. I ... I've read about this sort of thing too and I can't think of anything that might help him. Just the potions for the pain ... and rest. But they say ... that only about five percent of victims ..."

"Hermione, don't think like that," said Remus, walking around the bed and sitting down next to her. "You have to stay strong and have hope for his sake," he told her quietly, nodding toward Severus, who almost seemed to be watching them.

"I'll try," she answered. "He doesn't like it when I'm upset," she chuckled, wiping one eye with the back of her hand.

"Well, that's something at least, isn't it?" questioned Remus.

"Of course," she nodded.

Remus looked at Harry and Ron, who were beginning to seem a little anxious. Ron was shuffling his feet and trying not to stare at Snape. Harry on the other hand was fiddling with his robes and furtively glancing at the potions' master with anxious eyes. Remus knew approximately what he was thinking. He was wondering what would become of Hermione if all their hopes failed, if Severus never recovered his faculties. Harry, he knew, had a strange sort of appreciation for their relationship.

"Why don't you boys go on to breakfast?" he suggested in a rather firm, but friendly tone.

The pair exchanged glances and nodded.

"Of course. Take care, Hermione," said Harry with an encouraging smile.

"Yeah ..." echoed Ron as they both walked out.

"I'm hoping that I might be permitted stay here a little while longer," said Remus questioningly after he heard them leave by floo.

Hermione looked at the concern in his eyes and said, "I don't think I'll order you out just yet."

"Would you like a chance to freshen up and so forth? I can keep an eye on him while you do."

"I suppose I could use a change of robes and all," she agreed in a hesitant tone, glancing over at the bag Professor McGonagall had left for her.

"Go ahead," said Remus, patting her shoulder and gently shooing her from the bed. If nothing else, he knew that she could use a few minutes away from Severus' side to collect herself, and he meant to have a conversation with his colleague if it was at all possible.

Hermione took her things and ducked into the bath. She looked in the mirror and winced. She looked like death warmed over. But then why shouldn't she? She had not slept very much the night before, and there was also the incredible strain of the anti-Cruciatus incantations she had performed, which was still showing, and the anxiety and stress of watching over Severus and simply not knowing if his condition would ever improve. She splashed some cold water on her face and willed herself not to think about it.

Meanwhile, Remus was watching Severus' eyes as they roamed the room, almost as though he had realized that Hermione was gone and was searching for her. Remus had seen people who had been driven mad with the curse before, including an old school chum, Frank Longbottom, who was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with his similarly afflicted wife. While Remus had never been in contact with someone so soon after the incident, he suspected that Severus was doing better than most. He was calm and seemed marginally aware of his environment, which was more than could be said for poor Frank and Helen.

"Severus, I wish I knew for certain whether ..." Remus began to say, but stopped and rubbed his tired, sad eyes. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to say what needs to be said even if you can't hear me," he said.

"You have to come out of it. You must beat this, Severus, and not just for her sake, you know. The final battle is coming, and you will be needed. And very soon. I don't know if you realize that ... I don't think you've ever had a clear picture of your place or your importance. I wish that someone had given you that, but what's done is done. I know that after the battle last spring ... you blamed yourself for not being here, for the deaths, for not being able to fight openly on our side. Well, this time you'll have your chance," said Remus, giving Snape's shoulder a squeeze. "You just have to ... come back to us and take it," he added, noticing that Severus felt a bit too warm.

Remus watched the expression in his eyes carefully as he removed a layer of charmed blankets. Severus blinked slowly and rolled onto his back, almost as though were glad to be free of the weight. He had lived in the rather drafty dungeons for much of his life and had grown used to the constant cool temperatures. Remus smiled softly and smoothed the remaining blankets. Severus looked up at him and his lips moved slightly.

Professor Lupin grinned as he recognized the words: "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, Severus," he said with a nod.

Then the vacantness returned to his colleague's eyes, which turned their attention to the canopy over the bed.

Remus sighed softly and said, "Just rest, and try to think about all of us out here, would you? Hermione can't bear to lose you, and I think ... I know I would be quite sorry to see you shut up someplace for the rest of your life, as would Professor Dumbledore and the rest of our fellow professors."

"You aren't upsetting him, are you?" asked Hermione as she emerged from the bath. Her tone was not a joking one.

"Not that I can tell," replied Remus, leaving the bed.

"Do you suppose that the house elves will bring us breakfast down here?" she questioned, seeming to accept the professor's answer.

"I don't think you'll be able to get Severus to eat anything, but I don't believe they will forget about you. They actually should be along for the linens and so forth in a few hours, after breakfast has been squared away."

"I believe I can manage that ..." she began to say, but Lupin cut her off.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Hermione. You've used a lot of magic in the last twenty-four hours, haven't you?" he questioned.

"Well, maybe a few incantations ..." she said in hesitant reply, not wanting him to worry unnecessarily.

She had never realized exactly how fast Remus could be with a wand until he had his pointed at her. She was far from alarmed, but rather surprised.

"Quantum magicus!" said Remus quickly.

Hermione's hands and face tingled. She glanced down to find them glowing a muted bronze color and frowned.

"I don't believe I've ever encountered that spell before," she said, looking up at Remus curiously. "What is it doing?"

"It measures magic in a witch or wizard. At my age the level is far more constant. I would have to do an exceptional amount of spell casting to be affected. But at your age ... it doesn't require as much to deplete the reserves so to speak, even in a witch as talented as you are," Remus explained. "I strongly suspect that the spell was developed by a muggle-born witch or wizard in the last century or so as the colors correspond roughly to muggle traffic signals. Green is good, shades of yellow or orange are not so good, and red is bad, even dangerous."

The color was beginning to fade as Hermione nodded that she understood and asked, "What should I do about it then?"

"Don't cast any unnecessary spells for the next twelve to sixteen hours and try to get some rest," Remus advised with a smile.

"Not even a warming charm or anything like that?" she questioned. She already knew his answer. She just wanted to know if there might be a compromise.

"You will feel better and be able to more for him in the long run if you take care of yourself too."

"That makes sense."

"Thank you," he chuckled quietly.

"Having you here has been quite comforting," she said with a small smile.

"I do what I can," chuckled Remus. "Just remember to keep your chin up, Hermione," he said, turning to go.

"Thank you, Remus."

"Not at all," he said as she returned to her post.

When Remus had left the apartment by means of the floo, Hermione felt a twinge of loneliness that she had not felt before the visit by the professor and her two friends. She was glad that they had come, especially Remus. She could see why Ginny loved him. He had led a very difficult life, but he had become stronger because of it and easily shared that strength with others.

Hermione chuckled as she remembered Ron's words. It was nice to know that Severus' request had not gone unfulfilled. She wondered if Severus had known, if he had truly suspected so strongly, that something like this would happen.

"Did you know, Severus, or was it merely ... bad luck?" she questioned, touching his cheek. He blinked and nothing more. "I wish I had known ..." Hermione began to say. Then she shook her head and said, "No, I don't. I would never have let you go. I don't know if I could have stopped you, but I would have tried."

Severus turned his head slightly in her direction and simply stared at her for a moment. His lips moved, but he didn't make a sound.

"I know," she hushed him, touching his cheek and gently stroking his hair. "And it's going to be all right," she said, though her voice quavered slightly.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was so difficult to sound reassuring. Her words had a hollow ring to them in her own ears. She hoped that they did not seem that way to Severus. She wanted to be able to comfort him, even if she could do nothing else for him.

She felt so unprepared. Ever since their return from the demon realm, she had known that Severus constantly and willingly put himself in danger to serve the Order, to protect the students of Hogwarts and both the magical and muggle world. Hermione had known that he took risks. She had even seen the results of those risks. She had accepted that it was possible that he would die doing his duty. But she had never earnestly contemplated that this might happen to him, that her dear Severus would be reduced to a man with empty eyes and silently moving lips, driven mad by the agony of an unforgivable curse. It still seemed so impossible.

Then she heard a sound that had not graced her ears in what felt to her like eons, but was only the space of a day or a little more. She opened her eyes as Severus spoke to her.

"I want to make love to you," he said to her emphatically in a hoarse voice.

"Severus?" she whispered, looking searchingly into his dark eyes. There was a spark of something in them that she knew.

"More or less," he replied, reaching a trembling hand toward her.

Hermione grasped his hand tightly in her own and brought it to her lips as tears flooded her eyes, kissing his knuckles and trying in vain to stifle her sobs.

"Severus ..." she began.

"I have only moments, my beloved," he told her, interlacing his fingers in hers.

Her heart pounded as he pulled her by the hand slowly toward him. Only moments? She couldn't understand what he meant. But she smiled through her tears as she realized what he had called her. Surely that was a good sign ... a sign that he knew her. It was something at least.

"I want you to know that I should have done things differently. I should have kept you here that night ... when you wanted to stay," Severus told her. His eyelids drooped slightly, and his breathing seemed more labored. "I love you so much," he said in a whisper.

"I love you too, Severus," she said, leaning down and kissing him.

His lips twisted into a smile beneath hers as he struggled to return the gesture of affection. The kiss was as long and as passionate as any she had ever received, not half so gentle as Severus' kissed normally were. Fearful kisses, she had once thought of them. This was nothing like those kisses, but more like the passionate one they had shared in another place, in a realm of fear and dread. A kiss of desperation.

She was disappointed when Severus suddenly stopped and seemed to sigh. She felt his breath upon her lips as they parted. She opened her eyes, not even realizing that she had closed them, and found them his eyes had closed as well. They did not open again as Hermione pulled away. She brushed his hair from his forehead and squeezed the hand that she continued to hold.

"Severus?" she questioned, blinking away the remnants of tears that clung stubbornly to her eyelashes.

The pocket watch slipped from his fingers and landed with a dull plop upon the mattress.

For a moment Hermione's breath hitched. Then she heard the soft sound of Severus breathing deeply. He had simply fallen asleep. Those few words and that kiss had required so much energy, so much strength of will from him. Hermione chuckled quietly and arranged the blankets around him again. Severus had seemed so lucid for those few moments, though perhaps not quite himself. But he had given her a sure sign that he was still there, that he was still with her.