The Snake and the Eagle

Chapter 21 - The Best Student

Once the general astonishment was over, a deadly, final battle burst out around the still bodies of the two fallen lovers. The Death Eaters were all defeated, some were killed in the fight, while the rest were bound and taken to Azkaban by a new group of Ministry Aurors, whom had just arrived on the battlefield. The captives were going to be imprisoned till the day of their trial in front of the whole Wizengamot. When the war was finally over Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and a group of mediwizards were walking among the many bodies scattered on the grounds, conjuring stretchers to carry the wounded to the castle. When they reached the spot where Severus and Alexandra lay, Dumbledore knelt down next to them uncertainly; he checked Severus's pulse.

"Poppy, Poppy! Come here, quick!" he loudly called for the school matron. She knelt down too and examined them.

"I can't believe it! It's impossible! Albus, they're still alive!" she shouted astonished.

"I know, Poppy. This is beyond my comprehension too but, as you can see, they've both survived the killing curse. It's not the first time someone did it, and our dear Mr Potter is proof enough that it is an actual possibility," Dumbledore pointed out, though he still could not explain it himself.

"Yes, Albus. They're alive, but only just. The effort to resist the curse almost killed them," she gravely said.

"We've got to be quick, then. Let's take them to the castle before it's too late!" he said standing up. He conjured two stretchers and levitated the two bodies up to the Hospital Wing.

***

A glorious sunrise welcomed the new day, a day in which the world was finally free from the menace of the Dark Lord and his faithful followers. Hogwarts now looked like a huge Hospital Wing because of all the wounded fighters lying in the many beds scattered all around the place. The most serious cases had been immediately sent to St Mungus Hospital, but not all of them. Severus and Alexandra's conditions were so precarious that moving them could have been fatal. Down in the dungeons things were even worse, because it was there that the house-elves were taking care of the dead: washing, dressing, and putting them in their coffins, preparing them to be sent back to their families for an honourable funeral as heroes of The Second War.

Harry was lying in a bed with bandages around his head. He had beaten it against a stone when Lucius Malfoy had stricken him with his curse, but his general conditions were good. Ron was in the bed next to him with a broken arm, but feeling all right. Hermione sat in a chair between the two beds, with just some burns on her left arm but feeling immensely happy her friends were still alive. On the other side of the room, stood two more beds. One was empty though it had been previously occupied by Lupin, who had now left the castle feeling the full moon approaching. In the other bed stood Snape's, still unconscious.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Ron asked throwing a curious look at him.

"Dunno, he hasn't woken up yet?" Harry muttered a little perplexed.

"No wonder he hasn't. Didn't you hear what he did tonight?" Hermione said with a knowing look on her scratched face.

"No, Hermione. We've been too busy trying to save our own skins out there," Ron whined.

"Honestly, Ron. You've just got a broken arm. If it wasn't that Madam Pomfrey is too busy with too many patients, she would have fixed it in no time," Hermione sighed rolling her eyes.

"Come on, Hermione, tell us!" Harry said excited.

"Professor McGonagall just told me he has thrown himself to shield Professor Falconbridge from the killing curse, and they both have miraculously survived to it," she said in the same tone she used in class, answering to her teachers' questions.

"How is it possible? My mother did the same to save me, but she died!" Harry muttered astonished.

"I told you, nobody knows how," Hermione whispered.

Later that afternoon, Snape began to stir as he comes back to his senses. His eyes shot open, and he brusquely sat up shouting "Voldemort!" and looking around the room alarmed, startling the three kids in the room, who gasped in shock. He then slowly lay back down, too weak to support himself. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey heard his scream, and rushed in the room.

"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," Dumbledore said.

"Where is Voldemort?" Snape asked gripping at the sleeve of the old man's robes.

"I see you can finally say his name, good. Voldemort is dead, my son," he softly told him.

"Dead! He's dead!" Snape repeated, disbelieving his own ears. Then he burst into a light-hearted laugh, while tears of joy came streaming down his cheeks. It was finally all over! Harry was looking at his professor grinning. He perfectly knew how happy Snape was feeling in that moment, because that was exactly the way he felt himself. Snape abruptly stopped laughing, when something very important suddenly came to his mind.

"Where is Alexandra?" he anxiously asked.

"Severus, relax," Pomfrey tried to sedate him.

"Alexandra is alive, but she hasn't woken up yet," Dumbledore softly said.

"Where is she? Is she all right? I want to see her!" he shouted, and tried to get off his bed but Dumbledore forced him to lie down again.

"You cannot see her now. You're still too weak to stand," Pomfrey said bossing-ly, "now stay still and let me examine you," she ordered him before pulling the curtains around his bed.

"Headmaster, how do you think is it possible that Alexandra and I survived the killing curse?" Severus inquired astonished.

"I cannot say anything for certain right now, although, I believe there may be only one possible explanation, my boy. Love saved you both," Dumbledore said with a kind smile.

"What do you mean?'" Snape asked arching a dubious brow.

"Love is a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature," Dumbledore explained, "tell me, Severus. When the curse struck you, were you wearing your mother's amulet?"

"No, it was around Alexandra's neck," Snape said, still uncertain of where the old man's theory would lead them.

"And you performed the Amatus incantation to share its protective power with her, if I'm correct," Dumbledore stated.

"Yes, but it couldn't be that powerful to shield us from an Unforgivable!" Snape pointed out.

"Not in normal conditions, indeed. Though I have good reason to think that a very powerful combination of elements took place a second before the curse actually struck you," He said with a strange twinkle in his blue eyes.

"I still don't follow you, headmaster," Snape said confused.

"Let's consider a few facts together ... The amulet was charmed to protect Alexandra and yourself. The Amatus incantation is activated by the protector's blood, and you were also bleeding when you threw yourself to shield her from Lestrange's curse. But the thing that really brought the amulet to its highest power was the love you two share, and the fact that you were ready to sacrifice your life to save hers," Dumbledore concluded with a knowing look to the younger wizard. Snape's eyes opened wide as comprehension finally dawned on him. The killing curse seemed amazingly to have left no great damages to Snape's body. By the way, during her examination, Madam Pomfrey noticed something weird.

"Headmaster, could you please come have a look at something?" she beckoned Dumbledore, who had left for a moment Snape's side and had approached Harry's bed for a little chat. She showed him the mark on Snape's forearm ... and it was black!

"Black? Why is it still black? He's dead, isn't it?" Snape angrily spat, staring at his arm with wide-open eyes.

"He's certainly dead, that's out of question," Dumbledore reassured him, "do you remember what Voldemort used to do it? A Protean Charm, perhaps?" he tentatively asked.

"I don't know, the only thing I remember is that it burned like hell, and that I bled," Snape bitterly snarled.

"Hmm, another mystery to solve..." Dumbledore mused. He was, in fact, going to summon the Wizengamot to discuss the events concerning that final battle. Specially, they were going to try to find the reason why Alexandra had been able to defeat Voldemort, contradicting the prophecy that saw Harry Potter as the saviour of the wizarding world.

"Wait a minute, I want to check on something," Dumbledore told the nurse and he opened the curtain around Snape's bed.

"Harry, does your scar hurts any more?" Dumbledore gently asked to Harry.

"No, sir. Not that I remember," Harry said looking at the old man a little perplexed.

"Madam Pomfrey, could you please take away Harry's bandages?" he kindly asked, and the nurse readily obeyed. To anyone's astonishment, Harry's scar ...was gone, disappeared!

"How is that possible? You once told me that scars left by a curse never go away!" Harry pointed out. He had always taken for granted everything Dumbledore had ever told him.

"There seems to be exceptions, Harry, in very few cases they actually do. On occasions like this, this kind of scars may disappear once the wizards who produced it dies," Dumbledore stated.

"Then why the hell my Dark Mark is still here and black again?" Snape angrily snarled.

"The nature of your two scars is different, Severus. If Voldemort have really used a Protean Charm on you, its mark has simply taken the look it had the last time it has been activated. Therefore, It's still black, because Voldemort have not had the time to do the counter-charm before dying. It's only a theory, but we'll know better when we check someone else's mark," he calmly explained.

"Great! To think that all I wanted was to forget that bloody bastard now that he was dead!" Snape spat, and rolled on his side giving his back to them,

"Moody was right ... there are spots that never come off!" Snape sadly whispered, staring blankly at the wall in front of him, to avoid seeing their compassionate stare. If there was something that Snape really could not stand that was pity, especially when it was directed to him.

***

That night Snape was having problems falling asleep. Madam Pomfrey had denied him his usual dose of sleeping potion, because she thought it was not advisable to administrate to a person who had been unconscious for so long. He gave a look around the room, and saw that Harry and Ron were peacefully asleep in their beds while Hermione was having a nap on her chair, which she had wisely transfigured into a comfortable armchair. Madam Pomfrey had given her permission to stay for the night, although she disapproved the idea of a girl sleeping in the same room with two boys and a man. Actually, Snape did not mind much sharing his room with them. Snape had been surprised to find their cheerfulness almost contagious, but he was too upset about his dark mark to enjoy it. "At least, these kids aren't as noisy as the Slytherins," he thought with a smirk, but that thought made him sad. He missed his students, and wondered what was of them, hoping they were all safe and sound. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the many things that happened during that school year, when he suddenly heard the noise of steps coming his way. It was Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, trying to catch some bit of their conversation.

"What do they say?" Albus asked hopefully.

"At St Mungus say they've run out of that powerful Reviving potion we needed," Poppy gravely whispered.

"Good heavens, that was the only chance we had to save Professor Falconbridge!" Albus said anxiously.

"I know, headmaster, I know. If only Severus wasn't so weak ... he should have been able to brew some," she said tearfully.

"We can't pretend a thing like this in his present conditions. The effort could be too much for me. He's not even able to stand" Dumbledore sighed.

Snape's eyes opened wide at that awful news. Her life was still in danger, and he was the only one who could brew that highly complicated potion. Unfortunately, it was him who prepared some of the most efficacious potions used by St Mungus's mediwizards. "I've risked my own life to save her, how can I now leave her die without doing something to save her?" he bitterly thought in frustration, "I have all the ingredients needed in my office, if only I could reach it ... but I feel so disgustingly weak and I even doubted I have enough magical power left in me to perform the incantation," he kept mentally torturing himself. "What can I do?" he was asking himself, when he suddenly found the answer to all his questions. It had always been there under his nose ... Hermione Granger. He pushed aside the covers of his bed and swung his legs over the side, and tested them. They seemed to hold him. He tried a few unsteady steps towards a nearby chair where stood his dressing gown. He reached out for it and put it on his pyjamas. His head was giddy, but he mastered to walk up to where Hermione was sleeping in her armchair.

"Granger," he whispered softly, shaking the girl awake.

"Professor Snape! What..." she whispered, opening her eyes and staring astonished at him.

"Granger, I need your help," he sternly cut her off. He quickly explained his plan to her, and then stared at her hopefully.

"But Professor, I have not the knowledge to..." she began to complain, but he cut her off in mid sentence again.

"Listen to me well, because I'm not going to repeat it again," he said impatiently, "you are the best student I've ever had. How many second years do you think are able to brew a flawless Polijuice potion? Very few, apart you and myself." She blushed a little at that unexpected praise from him. "You are the only one who can help me. Professor Falconbridge's life depends on this very potion. If she doesn't drink some soon ... she'll die," he whispered in a softer, nearly imploring voice. She could clearly read his despair in those usually cold, detached eyes.

"All right, Professor. I'm ready. Let's go!" she said with concern. He nodded, and they slowly made their way out of the room.

Snape walked very slowly, and he soon had to lean on Hermione for support. They made all the way down to his office unseen. He was so weak, that he had to sit down in an armchair as soon as they went in. She dutifully gathered all the ingredients he told her, she levitated his big, black cauldron in the middle of the room and lighted a fire beneath it. It was a really complicated potion, but his instructions were so precise that she had no problem whatsoever in following them. She did all the manual work, leaving him rest on his armchair long enough to gather his strengths for the moment he had to perform the incantation. When everything was ready, he slowly stood up and approached the streaming cauldron. She stepped aside to leave him room in front of it. He took out his wand, stretched out his arms over the mouth of the cauldron; he closed his eyes and concentrated hard. He then uttered the incantation in a language Hermione did not recognised, which he later told her was Gaelic. The effort of that performance was probably too much for him and caused him to take a few faltering steps backwards. Hermione readily run to him.

"Are you all right, Professor?" she asked a little worried.

"Yes, thank you. I'm just ... tired" he said panting slightly. She led him back to the armchair, and helped him to sit down. "Stir it seven times counter-clockwise, in wide circles," he weakly said. She nodded and set herself back to work.

"Done! What's next?" she promptly asked.

"Nothing, we just wait till it cools. Take some rest, you deserve it," he kindly whispered. She took seat in an armchair opposite his. Her eyes wandered around the room with interest, she did not notice he was staring at her with a small smile on his lips.

"Tell me, Hermione. What would you like to do after Hogwarts?" he inquired with gleaming eyes. She was startled to hear him use her first name. Usually Dumbledore and Hagrid were the only teachers doing so.

"I don't know sir. There are many things that sound rather interesting to me," she politely answered.

"Have you ever considered the possibility of a Master-ship in Potions?" he smirked.

"Well, yes. Though I know they require an O in all one's N.E.W.T.s, and that they also want a letter of introduction to accept someone," she said a little dispirited.

"Well, I have no doubt about you reaching that result in your N.E.W.T.s. I don't know about my colleagues, but you can count on mine. And for the Master ship - ah- I've already written a letter for you, in case you decide to follow my steps. You've a natural talent with potions," he said staring at the cooling cauldron with a satisfied expression.

"Oh! Thank you, sir. I'll - ehm - take it into consideration," she awkwardly answered, blushing furiously.

"Forgive me, if sometimes I've called you an insufferable know-it-all. I was one myself, and I couldn't stand to see another student spoiling her youth on books. Anyway, you're luckier than me, because you have two faithful friends by your side. I was alone...," he concluded with a sad note.

"But sir, you have friends now! Professor Falconbridge and Remus Lupin too, don't you?" she tried to cheer him up.

"Yes, I do," he admitted with a small, sad, smile. The very thought of Alexandra still unconscious in her bed, was for him more like having a heavy stone on his chest right then. And the possibility that the potion, in spite of all their efforts, may not work was killing his very slowly.

"It should be cool by now. Let's check it," he said, and slowly stood up. He took a bottle and filled it with the newly brewed potion. "Take this up to Madam Pomfrey. I'll fill a few others, and send the rest to St Mungus. Please be quick, and let's hope it works," he sighed, "thank you Hermione, you don't know how much this means to me" he warmly told her. She gave him a broad smile and run upstairs.

"Professor Snape must really care for Professor Falconbridge. I doubt he would risk just as much for anybody else. How strange... he should feel really bad if has told me all those things. It all sounded like a dying man's last will, like the words of someone that has nothing left to loose," Hermione mused along her way to the Hospital Wing. She had never seen her teacher in such a strange mood, so talkative, so ... kind.

When Snape was finished with the rest of the potion, he headed to his fireplace to floo himself up to the Hospital Wing. He came out in Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Severus! Where the hell have you been? We were all so worried about you, and in your conditions!" Pomfrey shouted reproachfully.

"Save your lectures for later. Granger is coming here with a bottle of the Reviving potion you wanted," he snarled. A few seconds later, Hermione came rushing in into the nurse's office.

"We've got the potion. We can now heal Professor Falconbridge," she gladly panted.

"Where did you find it?" Pomfrey asked surprised.

"We brew it together. Now, let's stop wasting precious time and give it to Alexandra!" Snape nervously spat.

The matron hurried out of her office, and headed straight to Alexandra's room where Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were sitting on each side of her bed. They gave an astonished look at the newcomers, but a broad smile beamed on their faces at the sight of the bottle in Pomfrey's hand. Harry and Ron woke up at the noise of footsteps and, not seeing Hermione there, they run out of their room to go join the others. Dumbledore supported the unconscious Alexandra up, while Pomfrey forced the potion between her lips. They waited in silence staring at her with great apprehension. Severus and Hermione stood side by side, sharing the burden of the responsibility for its outcome. Fortunately, the potion seemed to work his healing at once, and Alexandra began to slowly wake up. When she opened her eyes she found herself surrounded by a group of the happiest faces she had ever seen. Dumbledore was hugging McGonagall; Pomfrey had tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Harry and Ron were both jumping up and down excited. But the strangest sight she saw was Severus hugging Hermione, repeating the words "We did it!" on and on. He even gave the girl a grateful kiss on her forehead. Then Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat and tried to restore silence.

"Everybody out, she needs to rest," she said shepherding everybody towards the door, "No, Severus. You can stay, dear," she warmly told him. He was beside himself with joy. He took seat in a chair close to her bed. She looked at him a little confused.

"What happens? Why are you all so happy?" she asked him astonished. Then, he told her everything had happened right after she had struck the killing curse at Voldemort.

"And you risked your life to save me? But how did you know it would have worked?" she asked astonished.

"I didn't know! But I had to try," he whispered staring her straight in her eyes.

"There was a one in a million chance, and you still wanted to sacrifice yourself ... for me" she softly whispered, staring at him through bright eyes.

"I couldn't stand the thought of loosing you," he warmly said, taking her hands in his. Worm tears came streaming down her cheeks. She threw her arms around his neck; he wrapped his around her and held her tight in a long, warm embrace.