Touchstone

Touchstone
Chapter Eleven

By Gin

Dinner at the Weasley's wasn't quite the jovial affair Hermione had remembered it to be. That night there wasn't the usual laughter and tricks; it was much more quiet and subdued with only occasional chatter. Mrs. Weasley had quickly flooed to St. Mungo's to tell Ginny that Hermione had come, thus persuading her daughter to come home.

Hermione had been surprised to see her once youthful and lively friend looking so haggard and spent. Ginny had stepped out of the fireplace, not even bothering to brush the soot off, and placed her hand on the mantle to catch her breath. Her long, fiery-red hair had been swept up into a messy ponytail, her clothes hung off her thin body, and there were shadows under her once sparkling eyes. Ginny had taken one look at Hermione before slowly walking silently to her friend; head bent, and embracing her tearfully. Hermione had never seen Ginny so stressed looking, and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She hadn't felt the full brunt of the brothers' deaths, particularly Ron's death, until she had come here. Hermione had hugged her defeated friend, and wiped her tears away, then took her by the hand and into the kitchen to have dinner. They all sat quietly, Hermione exclaiming, excessively, how wonderful the food was.

"I haven't eaten this much in weeks, Molly," she replied.

"As I've noticed. It's good to see you eat, as I said, you look much too thin," the mother had fussed and pointedly looked at Ginny; who quickly picked up her fork.

Charlie, being the one to try to add colour back into his family's life, spoke up. "So how are things back at the castle? Are you staying there for the summer?" he asked behind a mouth full of mashed potatoes. Mrs. Weasley glared at him for being impolite and he had the grace to blush.

Hermione looked up from her plate to look at Charlie. "I suppose things are fine there. I'm not accustomed to life at the castle during the summer, but I imagine it is going on much the same as it always has. And as for my staying there, I have no idea. Madam Pomfrey has been the one insisting I continue to stay as her patient. I'm not free to leave until she says so apparently," she smiled ruefully. She figured they just wanted to keep an eye on her, whether she was well or not. Charlie nodded in assent, and Bill took up the questions.

"So, I take it the Ministry has given you a much-needed vacation, eh?" Hermione's smile faded and she visibly paled.

'Oh my God!' she thought frantically as she dropped her dinner fork with a clatter. She had been so engrossed in the quiet solitude and comfort of Hogwarts, that she had completely forgotten about her job! She was probably fired! She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find something to say. No one had heard from her outside of Hogwarts, the Weasley's aside, since the war a couple of weeks back. She quickly looked to Arthur to see if he'd heard anything about her absence from the Ministry.

Arthur noticed her struggling, and for once chuckled; barely a smile had even passed his lips since his sons' deaths. The children glimpsed their father secretly, while Molly smiled in relief. As soon as the war had begun, the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had been dismissed from his job because he hadn't taken Dumbledore's warnings seriously early on, and therefore not preventing the war. Then failed to stop the Death-Eater attacks, and very nearly causing their own defeat against Voldemort in the end. The other higher ranking Ministry officials had all taken over during the last times of war and Arthur Weasley, having known about the impending war and trying to rally help, had become suddenly quite popular and even more respected. As of now, many people had been pulling for him as the new Minister of Magic, and most already considered him as such. He now waved off Hermione's concern and smiled.

"Albus owled me to let me know of your, er, state. I checked in with your boss and he told me to make sure you had all the time off you needed, so everything is okay on that front."

Hermione let out the breath she had been holding, and nodded gratefully to Arthur. For the rest of the night what little conversation that was held was limited to everyone else's jobs and such. Fred mentioned that he and George had just opened a second joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in London before the major part of the war had begun. Despite the struggling economy, the business had done quite well; people were desperate for any form of laughter. The table again fell silent; Hermione awkwardly poking at her chicken breast. She glanced at Ginny and noticed that she hadn't said a word the entire evening, nor eaten much either. She also noticed Percy wasn't much better off than Ginny.

When dessert had been finished, the girls rose to help Mrs. Weasley clear away the table and help with the dishes, while the rest of the Weasley clan went into the living room. Molly went on about a new scouring charm, while Hermione only listened with half an ear, as she had been documenting Ginny's quiet behaviour. When they had the dishes dry, they all made their way into the living room with the men. Hermione couldn't help glancing at the grandfather clock in passing. She had hopefully looked at the tiny golden minute hands labelled, "Ron" and "George". Everyone else's hands all pointed to "Home" with glum expressions on their tiny faces, while Ron's little picture space...was blank and dangling limply, pointed downwards to nothing. Hermione bit her lip in an effort not to cry. But then she furrowed her brow; George's tiny hand was oddly enough pointed to "Travelling," but was blank as well. Startled, she quickly turned her head to look at Fred. He caught her gaze and shrugged helplessly, shaking his head. Charlie then came up silently behind her.

"Dad says the clock has been in Mum's family for years. He says it must just be old and starting to malfunction. It's the only explanation we have." Hermione slowly nodded and gave Charlie a sympathetic smile, as he gazed with sad eyes at his family's grandfather clock, before going over to grab an extra chair and settle near the couch next to Ginny.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a huge wave of guilt wash over her; if she hadn't let her feelings get the better of her that night, she could have thought properly and not have gotten caught by Crabbe and Goyle. Then Ron and Harry wouldn't have come after her, and Ron would still be here with his family and Harry would be by Ginny's side. She sighed and glanced around the room, which had a melancholy air to it that had never been present in all her times at the Burrow.

Arthur Weasley was fiddling with, Hermione blinked, a Muggle television remote control and talking quietly to Bill who was seated in a small, wooden chair next to him. Fred was sitting on the steps that lead to the upper floors of the house, sighing painfully and pointing his wand at a fake Galleon causing it to move wherever he wished, while Percy was staring blankly at the latest issue of the Daily Prophet in a small armchair in one corner. Charlie was dragging a fold-up chair next to Hermione, who was now sitting on one end of the old patched up couch next to Ginny. Mrs. Weasley came in carrying a load of laundry and began half-heartedly folding clothes in the chair on the opposite side of the couch from Arthur.

Ginny was sitting with her arms wrapped around herself, staring blankly at the fireplace. Hermione scooted closer to better get her attention, to no avail. Then Fred spoke up.

"Mum," he said with a lack of his usual playful air, "it's too quiet. Let's turn on the Wireless, shall we?" She nodded and Fred walked over to an old looking version of a Muggle radio and touched his wand to it. It started up, blaring a loud, rock type of music that Bill grinned at, but caused everyone else to wince. Fred shook his head, glancing at Bill and flicked his wand. The station changed to something a bit softer, and more appropriate, just to fill in the quiet spaces, and Fred went back to his perch on the stairs. Abruptly, Percy stood and nudged past Fred and walked silently up to his room. Mrs. Weasley stared up at the stairs worriedly; Arthur sat stony-faced staring at the old carpet rug in front of the hearth. Percy had never quite been the same since he came back home. He had left his family in Hermione's fifth year, causing much sadness to his parents, then returned a year later when Ginny and Ron were almost killed by Death Eaters. He had been ashamed, and had a hard time looking his family in the face. The sadness and pain in the room was like a tangible force, squeezing everyone's chest, stifling their breath.

Hermione laid her hand on Ginny's. The youngest Weasley looked up at Hermione with a closed expression. Hermione tried to give a reinforcing smile, and squeezed her hand. Suddenly a rowdy garden gnome came crashing into the bottom of the door that led to the backyard, startling everyone, and giggling maniacally, scampered off, followed by a hissing Crookshanks. Mrs. Weasley looked up from her clothes and huffed.

"Arthur, they've gotten way out of hand again." Her husband nodded and looked at Hermione sheepishly, who pretended not to notice, and motioned to the boys.

"Boys," he gestured towards the door. Fred quickly got up, followed by Charlie and Bill and went outside to de-gnome the gardens.

"I think I'll help, too," Ginny said suddenly, and also headed for the door; Hermione in tow. Once outside, Fred began viciously zapping little pest after pest over the wall. Bill and Charlie lazily picked them off, while Ginny just walked around. Hermione came up to her side and walked with her.

"I had to get out of there," Ginny said with an exasperated laugh. "I can't stand it in there. That's why I don't come home much anymore." They walked on a bit more and Hermione tried to keep the erupting emotions at bay, being sympathetic to her friend. After a few minutes, Ginny continued. "I was really hoping you'd be okay....I hope you forgive me for not-"

"I know Ginny. Its okay, I had other people there with me. You had other...things to..." Hermione faded off and Ginny just nodded, staring off in front of her. They kept walking.

"I was meaning to ask you...if he, I mean Ron...he wasn't tortured or anything?" Ginny's voice lightly quivered. Hermione's bottom lip trembled as she recalled her best friend's last moments of life. She shook her head and tried to sound stronger than she felt.

"No. It was quick and painless." Hermione's chest was heaving, even though they had not walked for very long. Ginny nodded and closed her eyes.

"That's good." She was silent for five whole minutes before she spoke again. "No one really got to tell us the details...." She gave a soft laugh; "He was probably being bull-headed and plunged right in, didn't he?" she looked kindly at Hermione. Hermione, in return, stifled a strangled sob, smiling and nodded. Ginny's hand reached out to Hermione's and squeezed. Hermione clenched her eyes and squeezed back.

"We don't blame you Hermione. We're all proud of him. Both of them. George and Ron died fighting for what was right; you mustn't blame yourself for Ron. Or Harry," she added quietly. Hermione's mind screamed that she did in fact blame herself, and how could she not, but she had instead said a casual, "I know." There were so many things she was just dying, 'wrong choice of words Granger', to talk to Ginny about, but she opted for silence again.

They continued on walking past the front yard, and onto an old dirt path, heading away from the fading sun. Neither of them spoke as they were lost to their own thoughts. Ginny walked as if in a trance; her eyes unfocused, but her movements sure. Hermione didn't even realize where Ginny was taking her, or that she had even left the Weasley's home, until they reached a little wooded area that another, smaller dirt path curved into. Ginny's brows were furrowed in sadness as she held back the limbs while she walked through a narrow, stone archway and into a little clearing surrounded by enormous oak trees. Hermione followed her in and stopped; her jaw hanging open.

It was a small family cemetery that looked to be very old. There were gravestones covered in moss, some almost overgrown. Hermione glanced around at stones of different sizes, and height lined up in neat little rows, as she felt her hand being tugged to follow Ginny. Hermione's heart was racing; she knew what was coming up and she slightly pulled back, feeling ill. Ginny looked warmly into her eyes and said, "Please." Hermione gave in reluctantly, and followed the woman in front of her to her family's own plot ahead; the grief hanging over them like a thick blanket.

"We don't usually come down here, so it's a bit overgrown. Mum will probably fix that problem this summer." Ginny sighed, still in a daze. "Never thought we'd have to come back so soon after Mum's brother died. Let alone for more than one person," she finished quietly. Hermione was just barely keeping the tears back as she walked up a freshly beaten path; fear gripping her like a vice. The clearing was deadly silent, except for the crunching of leaves underfoot, with faint streaks of light here and there, and the air was thick and humid. Ginny went on, "We wished you could have been here. It didn't seem right without you and Harry." She paused before she went on, "You should have seen it; there were tons of people....heh, George and Ron would have been proud." Hermione stopped walking and tried to go back. She couldn't face this.

"Ginny, I don't know if I can do this right now..." Hermione's voice was shaking with stifled tears. Ginny stopped and looked back at her friend sadly.

"I know....but you have to get it over with. Hermione, you need closure...Ron needs closure....please," she said pleading. "Please..." Hermione stood there shivering, though it was still very warm outside. Shadows were being thrown everywhere as the sun sank further into the horizon, and a strange chill was creeping through her body. She chewed on her bottom lip, as if thinking, and when Ginny pulled her on, she didn't resist.

They rounded a particularly large oak tree and Hermione saw a larger clearing marked off with an old, black wrought-iron fence. There were already a few older headstones and to Hermione's horror, two newer ones had been placed behind two unmistakable, freshly dug mounds of rich, brown earth. The sun was streaking down in weak beams and rested on the two new graves. Hermione let out a soft gasp and leaned against the little fence for support. Tears filled her eyes to the brim, and spilled over onto her cheeks. It was a surreal dream she wanted to desperately wake up from. Her lip was quivering uncontrollably, and she shook her head in denial while Ginny came and wrapped her arms around her friend; her own eyes reddened with tears. A wide array of flowers lined the little area and covered the upper portion of the gravesites. Hermione inhaled and looked away; afraid her emotions would get the better of her. She could hardly breathe.

"No," Ginny whispered softly. "You have to face it Hermione. You can't keep running away. Face it. And let go of it," Ginny's voice cracked as she stared at her older brother's graves and started to softly sob. Hermione turned her gaze back painfully and bit her lip. She couldn't help but see the boy she knew in her mind's eye, laughing and playing happily, his red hair glinting in the sun. Never again would she see his smiling face.

'It's all my fault...oh God, Ron....I'm so sorry... oh God, I'm so sorry...' her knees gave out and she leaned down heavily next to Ron's grave, hot tears streaming down her face. She walked around to in front of the graves,touched the headstone and read the inscription.

Ronald Arthur Weasley
May 11, 1980- June 18, 2004
~Beloved son and brother~

In all its glory death has told,
That of love, that Ronald stole.
The hearts of ours, we have but lost,
In time we have to heal our thoughts.

Better still, the place for him,
He lies so still, his grave within,
This tomb so empty, yet so full,
The life, the love, the man we knew.
~~~
Hermione clenched at her chest and bent over, one hand still on the stone. Her chest heaved with silent sobs, her back shaking, as she struggled to deal with the loss. Her mind flashed back to that night, and how Ron, Harry and she had all hugged briefly before marching out to meet the enemy. Ron had looked at her and promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her. She remembered nodding, but she had been so caught up with vengeance for her family that she had forgotten to say she would protect him too. And she didn't. Her throat hurt from holding back the scream that was trying to force its way out. It was too much, she couldn't be here, she needed to get away...'and oh, Ron....'

She felt a soft hand on her shoulder, as Ginny came and sat down beside her. Hermione leaned into her as Ginny wrapped her arms back around her shoulders, rocking them. Her own face was streaked with salty tears.

"I couldn't save him Ginny," Hermione whispered, choking on her building sobs. "He promised to keep me safe...he did. But...I couldn't....I was just so....forgive me, Ginny," her voice broke and she heaved great sobs into Ginny's shoulder. Ginny nodded and softly cooed to her best friend, stroking her hair.

"Shh....shh, I know...you did your best, and Ron did what he had to," she assured her through her own tears. They held each other, sobbing, beside their fallen brother, until the sun had set and night took its place.

~*~*~*

When the first stars peaked out through the trees, Hermione felt weak and her legs were cramping from remaining in the same position for so long. Ginny was staring off into the dark when Hermione repositioned herself and looked back at Ginny.

Ginny spoke quietly, "You should see Harry, you know. I think he would like that very much," she smiled weakly and looked back at her friend. Hermione's head bowed.

"I would like that Gin. Is he...how is he?" Hermione said sheepishly. Ginny looked away and sighed. Hermione could smell the musky scent of wet earth and the smell of dying flowers that were littered around the headstones; she shivered.

"He's there. The doctors don't really know what to do...they're all stumped." Hermione had to strain her ears to hear Ginny. The silence was pressing all around them. "He just...lies in bed. Sometimes, on his good days, he's able to sit up in bed. And he's stopped his screaming and constant muttering now." She paused considering this. "They thought that was a good sign, but I don't think so."

Ginny reached down and pulled a sprig of grass up and toyed with it in her fingers. Her eyes again roved over the places her brothers were laid to rest and she sighed; scared out of her mind.

"I think he's gone...I don't know. But I've told him he can't go. Hermione he can't." Ginny's lip quivered again and her voice was coated with tears. "I told him he can't...he has a reason to stay, to not give up. I need him here, I have-"she broke off and stared up at the darkened sky through the branches, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She could just barely see some stars peeking through. Ginny thought she was going to lose her mind at any moment.

Hermione broke the silence trying to sound optimistic, "I've been trying to find a way to help him; something the doctors have missed. Sev- Professor Snape is even helping me." At this Ginny looked back down to her.

"He is?" She asked surprised and paused for a moment trying to gather her thoughts. "That's good. You're both very intelligent....actually that makes me feel a bit better." Ginny wanted to say that Hermione did almost anything she set her mind to. She had always admired Hermione's persistence, but if Hermione wasn't able to find a cure and if Harry were to die, she was afraid of what her friend might do when or if they lost him. 'How is it my life took such a tragic turn...' Ginny thought unfairly.

After a few more minutes of silence, Ginny spoke again, "Sometimes I think he likes the break." She laughed softly; Hermione looked on sadly. She couldn't stand to talk about Harry while she was in this place. Hermione felt it was almost too risky, as if inviting trouble.

"I didn't." Hermione then added looking down. "But it's so much easier. And then again, I went by my own will. And I still had my mind," Ginny nodded. Hermione looked back to her friend and thought she seemed to be struggling with something. Ginny kept opening her lips to speak, but would appear to think better of it and look away again. Hermione waited quietly as another tear slipped down Ginny's cheek and she shut her eyes tightly and whispered forcefully.

"I can't lose him Hermione....I can't...." Hermione reached her hand over but Ginny brushed it off.

Instead, she got up and wrapped her arms back around herself. "It's getting late, we should probably head back." Hermione looked up at her oddly, but nodded as well and stood up. Her knees protested a bit as she stood and looked back down to Ron and George's final resting places.

"We'll rest up for a few days and catch up, hm? I think we need a break first, and then we'll go see Harry." Ginny finished and turned to go back out the way they came.

Hermione nodded and with one final, aching glance left the little plot beneath the large oak trees, and followed Ginny out of the mournfully silent cemetery through the dark, and back to the gloomy atmosphere of the Weasley home.

~*~*~*

That evening, Severus Snape sat down in front of his empty stone fireplace with a snifter of brandy, and picked up his post for the day. He skimmed through letters and potions journals before noticing a small letter with black ink. There was a painfully familiar seal on the back. Severus held his breath as he opened the letter cautiously, and pulled out its folded contents. It was short and very clear:

"We haven't forgotten about you Severus. Your time will come as well."

It wasn't signed, but it didn't have to be. He closed his eyes; he knew a letter like this would have been coming any day now. He crumpled the parchment and tossed it into the hearth. He whispered Incendio and watched as the flames devoured the parchment and took a long gulp of the brandy. Sighing, he leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

~*~*~*

The next morning, the girls woke late to the smells of breakfast and coffee, along with the occasional thumping sound of someone on the stairs. Hermione stretched and rolled over, hugging her pillow in her arms. She winced up at the warm sunlight that was streaming in through the aged white lace curtained windows as Ginny stirred from her own sleep. They both silently stared at each other for a moment before blinking the sleep from their eyes and going downstairs to breakfast.

Hermione was the first of the two down, and had wrapped a robe around her and tied her long, sleep tousled curls into a low ponytail. She was wearing her usual fuzzy slippers and she shuffled into the kitchen, feeling like she had when she was a kid. She took her seat where she normally sat, and took the mug of coffee Bill handed her and looked at the chair Ron would have sat in. It was covered in a very fine layer of dust as it hadn't been used lately. Hermione furrowed her brow and gratefully focused on the hot liquid burning her tongue as she drank the coffee deeply.

The smell of frying sausages filled the air as Molly went about setting the table. Bill laid down the paper and Hermione snatched it; deciding to see what was happening in the wizarding world post-war. After a few more minutes went by, the rest of the Weasley's made their way to the table quietly, pouring coffee and reaching for fluffy pancakes and sausages. No one said a word the entire time during breakfast, and afterwards Arthur rose, kissed his wife and looked her in the eyes. She squeezed his hand and gave him an extra kiss on the cheek and said quietly, "Good luck dear. Come home early." Her tired face was blank as she watched her husband depart, after saying goodbye to his family, and Hermione. It was the first day back at work for Mr. Weasley since the war.

Ginny sat contemplating her coffee cup while the rest of the men fiddled around with their silverware and napkins. Mrs. Weasley twitched her wand and dishes flew up and towards the sink to begin washing themselves; she didn't feel like doing any real cleaning at the moment, and walked towards the cloak-rack to retrieve her cloak.

"Well, I'm off to get some things in Diagon Alley. Anyone is welcome to go," Molly said, trying to sound encouraging. There were half-murmured apologies and excuses and Mrs. Weasley looked at the women hopefully. Ginny continued staring into her cup and after Hermione noticed Ginny had no intention of going with her mother, hesitatingly shook her head. Mrs. Weasley frowned, but nodded and grabbed her bag nonetheless, and Apparated.

Shortly afterwards, the brothers got up and continued going about their daily routine: sitting around staring and trying not to notice things that made them think of George or Ron. Hermione tugged on Ginny's hand, pulling her to her feet, and suggested they do something productive. Ginny nodded and looked around, trying to find ideas for a project. Charlie had heard Hermione, got up and went upstairs. A few moments later he came thundering back down the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of swimming trunks and a sly grin on his already boyish face. Bill looked at him questioningly and Fred gave a weak smile. Percy just sat on the old couch and frowned. Hermione flashed a real smile at him. Charlie walked over to Bill and poked him in the chest.

"Come on. Let's go swim." Bill quirked an eyebrow as if unsure. Charlie sighed exasperatedly and looked around at everyone. "Look. If we don't do something...we're not going to make it." The room was quiet for a few minutes as they let that statement soak in. They weren't sure what to think. It almost felt inappropriate or betraying. But Fred got up from the floor and nodded.

"You're right, Charlie." Fred squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "George and Ron wouldn't want us sitting around moping. Actually...if George were here, he'd probably kick us and throw us out of the house." Ginny smiled, and Bill shook his head grinning.

"Alright then," said Bill, slapping his knee and standing up. "Let's go swimming." He swallowed before he went on. It had been two weeks of absolute hell and despair. It wasn't the Weasley way. "They would want us out having fun... now that the wizarding world is free." Hermione smiled again and looked at Ginny who seemed to be thinking it over. Charlie looked down to Percy. He was twisting his hands in the hem of his shirt looking absolutely torn.

He wasn't ready for this yet. He wasn't like his brothers, but he couldn't go on like this either...he could feel himself dying inside. Even work wasn't helping. But Charlie was right- they weren't going to make it if something didn't happen; and soon. Percy stood slowly as well and looked at his siblings.

"Okay," he said quietly. Fred slapped Percy on the shoulder, to which Percy scowled at, and he and Bill quickly ran up the stairs. Percy walked calmly. Then Charlie looked at his little sister and Hermione.

"You two have to come as well," he said grinning again. Ginny strode over to her brother and hugged him. He hugged her fiercely back and released her and she went upstairs to find a bathing suit. Hermione followed and gave a proud look to Charlie. He smiled and went to stare out the window while everyone else changed.

When they came back, Fred, in a daring leap, pushed Charlie and ran towards the pond at the edge of the Weasley property. Charlie yelled good-naturedly and tore after Fred. Crookshanks appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and bounded away after them. Bill and Percy shook their heads but remained walking with the girls, while Hermione smiled at her cat. When they got there, Fred and Charlie were already battling and splashing around in the water; Hermione laughed, feeling much better already. Everyone but Ginny got in, and of course all the men went after Hermione. Dunking her, tossing her playfully, and laughing. It was the first time the family had truly felt better. Ginny could hear her father's voice sounding in her head, 'Laughter truly is the best medicine...never forget that, Ginny...' She smiled as Percy got dunked and came up yelling and spluttering.

After about ten more minutes, Bill spoke up and looked at the still dry Ginny. "Oy! When ya comin' in little sister!? Better be quick, or I'll help you in myself!" he laughed.

"Yeah! Water's real fine, Gin!" came Fred before he went back under to grab Percy's leg and pull him back down. Ginny looked at them a little apprehensively but edged towards the shore and stuck a toe in. Fred was right- the water was perfect. She pursed her lips thinking.

"If I do...you guys can't swarm all over me like you're doing to poor Hermione. I'm not in the mood," she tried to say as seriously as she could while smiling. The boys all spoke in tandem, "Ohh okaayyy..." Ginny glared at them accusingly and stepped in, staying away from all the commotion. Hermione finally got out of Charlie's grip, and stuck her tongue out at him playfully and swam over to where Ginny was sitting in the shallow end. She sat up panting. She was having so much fun. It had been a couple years since she had gotten to swim; especially with the Weasley's.

Hermione reached around her back as she came to a halt to fix the top half of her Transfigured bikini. She noticed Ginny wore a one-piece. 'She was always so shy...poor girl,' she thought warily. Ginny's hands were immersed under the cloudy water.

"What's up Ginny? Not feel well?"

"I just don't feel like being thrown about thanks," she giggled as the boys were attempting to drown each other. Hermione shook her head.

"Okay, but are you going to join us?" she asked giving her a light shove. Ginny shoved back.

"Maybe," she grinned. Suddenly it got quiet. They both noticed this and looked up. The boys were gone. They looked around frantically, Ginny calling out.

"What are you doing?! Come back up..." They still didn't appear. "Uh-oh," Ginny began as she started to get out of the water. But then four pairs of hands were grasping at their ankles and dragging them under. Hermione yelped and Ginny screamed, frantically clawing at the muddy shore behind her. They were pulled under-water, by very satisfied Weasley brothers, almost a little too long. Charlie grabbed Ginny around the waist attempting to tickle her underwater- knowing it would get her riled up, until she kicked him in the stomach. Hermione came up trying not to laugh while the rest of the boys laughed at their little stunt. But Charlie came up coughing, rubbing his stomach. Ginny yelled at them all and swore; seeming very upset, and swam back to shore. Once there, she Accio'd a beach towel and stamped her foot angrily while she waited for it to show up. The boys all groaned.

"Come on Gin, we were just playing..." said Bill.

"Really? Well I didn't think it was very funny, Bill!" she yelled. Everyone blinked, but Ginny went on. "You said you wouldn't attack me! That's exactly why I stayed away from you. But you can't even obey a simple wish!" She went on muttering angrily, clutching her abdomen, sure there was a bruise there, and grabbed the flying towel hurtling towards her. They thought they heard her say something like 'thoughtless gits' as she wrapped it around her waist, slipped on her shoes and stalked off back up to the house. Crookshanks, who had been basking in the sun, well away from any stray drops of water, got up and trotted after her. The men looked alarmed at Ginny's sudden behaviour and looked at Hermione. She shrugged and they went back to swimming. Hermione stayed around for a few more minutes before she got out and went to look for Ginny.

Ginny had changed into dry clothes and was applying a drying charm to her hair when Hermione got to her room.

"Ginny? Um, are you okay?" she looked at her still angry friend. Ginny rolled her eyes and began brushing out her long red-gold hair.

"I hate it when they do things like that..." she said. Hermione just looked at her friend questioningly but let it drop.

Later that evening, when Mrs. Weasley came home to her children outside in dry swimming trunks and talking somewhat animatedly, she felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. Ginny was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a checked top that tied in the front, and lounging on a rickety porch swing with Hermione. Fred was zapping slugs and making sure they exploded near Percy who kept swearing frustratingly at him. Bill was smiling, watching Charlie as he kept flirting with Hermione playfully, and teasing Ginny. Ginny had somewhat calmed down since that afternoon, and had even joined in on his teasing. Mrs. Weasley watched them for a few minutes before going to the kitchen get started on dinner. When Mr. Weasley came home, his children and Hermione were just coming in, laughing at something Fred had said, with slight sunburns on their freckly faces. He looked at them curiously, and felt his chest tighten. He smiled, and blinked back tears before turning to his wife, hugging her gratefully.

That night, dinner was much more enjoyable, with a lot more conversation; even sharing a few laughs. Charlie caught Hermione's eye and smiled thankfully at her before going back to listen to his father discuss an incident that had occurred at work today. When dinner was over, and the dishes were done, everyone stayed up late to talk and play a few games. Percy dug out his dust-covered chess set and Fred grabbed a deck of Exploding Snap cards.

The next couple of days went by in much the same fashion. Each day, the family healed a bit more, getting a bit stronger, and tried to move on with their lives. Mrs. Weasley's fussing over the girls' weight got stricter and she baked the most fattening pies and desserts she could think of. However, it appeared to be working, much to Hermione's chagrin. Ginny had continued to stay home more often, popping in to see Harry every night before she went to bed. Hermione had owled Severus, asking him to send her some of her research on Harry's affliction, so she could at least be doing something productive. He had responded the next day, with her notes meticulously separated, with a terse message telling her not to over do it. She had smiled. Despite the slowly cheering mood of the Weasley household, Hermione still missed him. She hadn't seen Severus in four days and was beginning to get lonely for his presence. And Charlie's good-natured flirtations made it worse. She peered out the window of Ginny's room and down at the men as they had just started a small Quidditch match with their father, and looked at Charlie. He really was an attractive man, and he had a great personality. She thought if she hadn't become attached to Severus, she might have taken a go at Charlie. She wondered if it would've worked out in the long-run though. Unbidden, Severus' image floated to the front of her mind and she closed her eyes. She wondered what he would be doing at that moment on a Saturday night. She imagined him at his workbench in his lab cutting up some kind of root, about to scrape it into a softly simmering cauldron. Maybe his forehead would be sweating and he'd reach one his long-fingered hands to wipe at it, and secure a loose lock of raven black hair behind his ear. Hermione smiled softly, suppressing a shiver and reached a hand up to her face, remembering when his hands had held hers and he'd kissed her cheek with his warm lips-

"Ahem?" coughed Ginny. Hermione jumped. Ginny was standing with her arms folded, and a sly glare on her face staring at her from a few feet away. She looked at Hermione expectantly. "Who was the subject of that fantasy missy? I hope to God it's not someone down there?" she smirked playfully and glanced out the window, then back to her friend. "Then again...could it have been my dragon-loving brother who has captured your affections?" she poked Hermione on the arm. Hermione arched an eyebrow and poked back, grinning.

"What makes you so sure I was fantasizing, Virginia?" Ginny pursed her lips knowingly. "Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Weasley." She looked back out the window while Ginny watched her carefully. Then she added, "It wasn't about, Charlie, anyway." Ginny gasped and grabbed Hermione's hands, spinning her around to face her.

"Uh-huh, I knew it! You tell me all about it!" Ginny was grinning from ear to ear, looking mischievous. Hermione was the one to purse her lips this time and fold her arms over her chest.

"It isn't what you're thinking, Ginny."

"Fine. If you're going to be stubborn about it." She calmly let her arms swing at her sides as she pretended to scan a list of possible men Hermione would fantasize about. Sadly, that list was short. She walked around her room, and named off the most unlikely people first.

"Who have you seen lately...hm..."she gasped sarcastically, "Neville Longbottom!" Hermione laughed and looked away.

"Honestly, Ginny...we are adults, not teenagers," she playfully chastised.

"Okay, okay...hm...Seamus?" Hermione stared blankly. "Dean Thomas? What about that one Ravenclaw you had a crush on in your sixth year..." Hermione laughed. Ginny turned away from her and smiled evilly. "Oh, who am I kidding? He's not your type, with his blond hair and pretty blue eyes...no. You're a more serious person...perhaps, your preferences fall into the...tall, dark, and brooding-yet-sexy category?" She turned around smugly to face Hermione. Whose expression became that of blank surprise.

"Bingo," whispered Ginny.

Hermione spluttered and looked at her friend questioningly.

"Okay, I give. When you first arrived here, Mum saw Professor Snape give you a kiss on the cheek before he left, and she told me about it. That, and you almost called him Severus once." Ginny looked faintly proud. Hermione blushed. "Okay though, tell me all the details. When did this happen, for one."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed. "Nothing has 'happened.' We're....friends." she said dejectedly. Ginny smiled sympathetically.

"Not by your choice though."

"I'm not sure what to make of it. Actually, I still can't believe it myself."

"I can," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "You two are perfect for each other. Especially for you. He's very smart, well-read, powerful...stimulating," on the last adjective she winked and purred suggestively. Hermione blushed again. "Physically and mentally I'm sure." Hermione shook her head disbelieving.

"Has he kissed you yet?"

"Ginny!" Ginny laughed.

"Oh fine. You're no fun anyways. So he is made for you then." Hermione threw a pillow at her. They sat in companionable silence for a bit.

"I am too fun..." said Hermione mock pouting. Ginny smiled.

"Of course you are love." She sighed. Ginny looked at a small picture frame on her windowsill behind Hermione. A young man of about 20, with jet black hair and bright green eyes, was smiling and winking at her. "I think we should see Harry tomorrow. It's time." Hermione looked up at her, startled. Then she looked down at the floral patterned bedspread and traced the stem of a rose with her finger.

"It is. When do you-"Ginny cut her off.

"Tomorrow afternoon." Ginny's voice had a hardened quality to it as she stared at the picture Harry had given her a few years ago. Her eyes looked glazed and her hand strayed to her stomach. She again struggled to say something and opened her mouth a few times before dropping her head in defeat.

"He's still not getting better, Hermione," she whispered. Hermione felt a stab of guilt- she should be gathering more information, or researching, or doing something more to help Harry instead of being here. She fidgeted uneasily at this thought. Ginny, sensing Hermione's distress looked back up into her face.

"It's okay, Hermione. You needed to be here." Ginny looked into her eyes. "I'm glad you're here. I needed you." She paused. "And so did everyone else I think," she smiled at her best friend. Hermione smiled back and looked at the hand on Ginny's tummy.

"Do you feel okay?" She had noticed Ginny seemed a bit ill lately.

Ginny looked at her hand for a second. "Oh, yeah. My stomach has been a bit off lately. Mum gave me an upset stomach potion this morning; it's helped a lot." Hermione nodded.

Ginny got up off the bed and looked at Hermione. "Tomorrow will be hard for you. He's so different...." Hermione nodded again, her chest tight.

"Do you mind...can I bring Severus along? I don't know how to explain it, but, I always feel stronger when he's around." Ginny nodded compassionately.

"Of course." With that she turned and left her bedroom, leaving Hermione to follow after.

~*~*

Later that night, after everyone had retired to bed, Hermione quietly crept down to the living room, lit the fireplace, and grabbed a pinch of floo powder off a jar on the mantle.

"Severus Snape," she announced quietly to the warm green flames. It took a moment for the flames to die down before Hermione poked her head in. Looking around she noticed she was staring into his private living quarters, instead of his office. She thought it was very nicely decorated, and could see he definitely valued comfort despite his harsh personality. The room appeared to be empty of his presence however, so she tried to call out to him as quietly as she could without waking anyone in the Burrow.

"Severus? Hallo?" She paused, waiting for him to answer. When he didn't she tried again a bit louder, "Severus? Are you here...." She trailed off as a door to her right opened up and a pale face peeked out from behind it. Severus relaxed and stepped out, pocketing what appeared to be his wand. Then she noticed he had his shirt off and was wearing a pair of long, black, cotton pyjama bottoms. Her throat tightened, and the familiar pull in her belly made itself known. He looked very lean, even with a nice bit of muscle on his chest and arms. Through the glint of the green firelight she made out a slight dusting of fine black hair on his chest, and a very little bit just above the waistline of his pants....

He quickly walked over to her, looking alarmed.

"Hermione? What is it? Is something wrong?" he asked a bit urgently, his voice groggy. She was still staring at his chest. He looked down, and cleared his throat, amused.

"What? Oh, oh...no. No, you told me to floo if I needed you." She looked up into his eyes, hoping the green of the flames hid her embarrassment. He looked at her and nodded slowly.

"Yes?" he asked encouragingly.

"Well..." she trailed off and he raised his eyebrows. "I need you," she said quietly. He looked taken aback. No one had ever said that to him like that. Dumbledore maybe...but never in a soft, desperate kind of way before. He nodded again.

"I see.... What can I help you with?" He briefly wondered if he should ask her in, but figured she would have already asked to if she was in need. So he instead decided to listen to her as she was.

"Well, I have a favour to ask of you." He looked at her suspiciously but nodded his assent.

"Tomorrow, Ginny and I are going to visit Harry..." she ended looking down. Here she seemed to struggle for the right words. "And, well, I was wondering..." 'Oh, this is ridiculous. You're an adult, Granger. The worst he can do is say no,' she chided herself, then looked up into his eyes. "Would you please come with me tomorrow?"

He calmly met her gaze and considered her for a moment, trying to understand what that meant. Then before he even really thought any further about it, he was nodding and speaking. "Of course. When and where shall I meet you?"

She smiled, relieved, "We're leaving the Weasley's at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Could you meet us there?"

He nodded, "That would be fine." Her tousled hair was spilling into her eyes, and she brushed them aside. He would have liked to have done that for her- blinking, he cut that thought off.

She smiled warmly up at him from the hearth while he looked at her face. She seemed to be okay, but there was definite apprehension in her eyes. He knew tomorrow would be hard for her, and it gave him a strangely warm feeling inside to know she wanted him there with her. He cleared his throat, now being satisfied that she was okay.

"Well, two o'clock tomorrow it is." She lifted her chin in assertion.

"Yes. Well....until tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Severus." She lingered for a few more moments before leaning out of the warm flames, and extinguishing the fire. She thought he seemed a bit different tonight, but she shrugged it off and as quietly as she could, tip-toed back up the stairs, past the sleeping Weasley's, and back into Ginny's room. She looked down, and brushed the soot off of her cotton nightgown before slipping under the covers. When she finally closed her eyes, her mind's eye full of a partially clothed Severus, she fell soundly asleep, grinning. Ginny closed her eyes as well, smiling.

Back at Hogwarts, Severus had stood standing, staring into the once again empty hearth, where her face had been just moments before. The circles under her eyes had appeared to be gone, and her face looked fuller. He was glad to see her looking better now. Snape inhaled deeply, and turned around to go back to his bed. He flopped down on the mattress, the satin having cooled from the night air, and looked out of his window again. It was open, and the sheer, green curtains were lightly floating in the slight breeze. The sound of crickets filled the air, and the smell of dew covered grass wafted in. His emotions again raged in his chest as he thought about Hermione.

"Tomorrow," he said quietly and raised his arms up over his head and closed his eyes. He opened one eye, twitched his hand, deadening the softly glowing candles in the sconces, and tried to once again fall asleep.

~*~*~*

Hermione awoke, feeling refreshed from a good night's sleep the next morning. She looked over at the little travel alarm clock on her bedside table; eleven o'clock; 'Wow, I really slept in,' she thought hastily. She looked up as Ginny came into the room, still in her robe; she, however, looked a bit tired. Hermione wondered if she had gotten much sleep last night. She looked at Ginny questioningly, but Ginny gave her a weak smile, and then quickly left the room. Hermione stared at the closed door for a moment before rising to get out of bed and take a shower. Once done with that, she shuffled back into Ginny's room and over to the closet where she had hung some of her own clothes, and selected a light pink, floral chiffon dress. It was very simple, but pretty nonetheless. She preferred Muggle clothing, when she could. Once that was on, she slipped on a pair of sandals, and twisted her hair up out of her face, pulling a few curly strands at the side and back out. Then, she applied a very small amount of makeup since she was actually leaving the house. Though it didn't matter, she wanted to look decent for Harry. So he would see she was okay, and maybe encourage him. She sighed. She didn't know what to expect; from him or herself. And the more she kept thinking about it, the more she worried, and the more upset she got. She kept seeing her father's lifeless body, and couldn't help but see Harry in the same position. She closed her eyes, and walked out of the tiny bedroom to go downstairs for a late breakfast.

Upon entering the kitchen, Bill and Charlie started whistling, complete with catcalls. She flashed them a flirtatious smile, desperate to feel as calm as she looked right then. Bill sidled up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and speaking into her ear.

"Hermione...my goodness, you are a sight for sore eyes this afternoon."

"Morning," she corrected him tartly.

"Oh yes, my apologies," he drawled sarcastically. She smiled up at him and flicked his earring playfully, which he had replaced the dragon's fang for a small bloodstone.

Charlie, not to be outdone, calmly walked over to his oldest brother, removed his hand, unceremoniously, and wrapped his own arm around her waist, and looked over her head to his brother's amused one.

"Hermione can get up whenever she so chooses, Bill." He grinned down at her; she couldn't help but grin back. "Isn't that right?" Bill, sensing a chance for playful banter, untucked Charlie's arm, from around her waist and pulled her back to him. She laughed.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you, Hermione. Forgive me," using his free arm, he reached around and brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Bill, then looked expectantly at Charlie for his response. She was actually enjoying this attention.

"Hm." He walked around behind her, bumped Bill out of the way, and wrapped both of his arms around Hermione's waist, pulling her to his chest. She was giggling as he said, "I don't know why you bother with him. You should stick with me kid. I'm the legendary Charlie Weasley, or didn't you know that?" he purred.

'Hello!' Hermione thought shamelessly. Fred, having heard their mock-fight, had bent down and picked up a ball of yarn, and threw it directly at Charlie's head. He blinked a few times, and smiling broadly looked into the living room at Fred, who was looking at him innocently. Everyone laughed.

Charlie released her and joined Bill back at the table, and she sat down for some coffee and toast. Her nerves were still on edge, and she didn't want to tempt fate by eating too much. Crookshanks began mewing outside the back door. She grabbed a couple of cold sausages from a plate, and went to the door to toss them to her pet. He purred, then mewed a 'hello' and savagely tore in to the sausages.

Finally Ginny emerged from downstairs, dressed in a pair of jeans, and loose grey sweatshirt, with the letters, UML, (University of Magical London) across the front. Hermione frowned.

"Don't you think you'll get hot in that sweatshirt, Ginny?" Ginny shook her head as she plopped down into her chair and reached for the marmalade. Bill, Charlie and Hermione all gave her a worried look. Ginny slammed her spoon down on the table, and sighed loudly at them. Bill and Charlie looked at each other then away. Hermione gave them both another look and went to sit back down at her spot with her cooling mug of coffee. The two brothers got up and silently left the kitchen. Ginny dribbled marmalade onto her piece of toast with a shaking hand, which Hermione noticed.

"Okay. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"I told you, Hermione. I just don't feel well is all. That and I didn't get much sleep last night." She took a bite of her toast. Hermione watched her, as if trying to read her mind. "Are you going to stare at me the entire time?" Ginny gave her a half-smile around another bite of toast.

Hermione waited a second, and then poured herself some more coffee, adding a bit of milk and sugar. "I suppose not." She took a sip and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers on the mug. "Severus is coming with us. You don't mind do you?" At this Ginny looked up. She wiped at her mouth with a napkin and smiled slyly.

"Of course not." Then her smile faded. "You'll need him," she added quietly. Hermione looked away out the window while Ginny ate the rest of her toast.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the afternoon, Hermione spent looking back over the notes Severus had sent to her earlier. Mrs. Weasley had decided to come for Ginny, and said she hadn't seen Harry in a couple of days anyways. Ginny spent it looking over Hermione's shoulder, and when she noticed Hermione kept making frustrated noises because she wasn't getting anywhere, she had slumped over, depressingly, on the couch, and stared off into space. The guys had all gone outside to do some yard work for their mother.

When two o'clock finally rolled around, Hermione had been so immersed in her reading that she missed the sound of the knock at the door and Ginny answering it. It wasn't until a shadow fell across the parchments that she even registered that Severus was even there.

"I thought I told you to take it easy," he drawled. She smiled and stood up, holding on to her parchments. She wanted to hug him, but opted for standing closely to him.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hello." They stood staring at each other for a moment until Percy came in from the garden.

"Professor Snape?" he asked surprised. Severus turned and looked into the face of his former student and Hogwarts Head Boy. He stretched out his hand to Percy in greeting.

"Mr. Weasley. I trust you are doing well." Percy shook his hand and nodded.

"Better sir, thank you." He looked around, confused as to why his former Potions professor was in his home, when his mother came in clutching a large bag. He noticed his sister casually leaning against the doorway.

"Severus, welcome back," Molly exclaimed. Snape turned and briefly smiled at the woman and shook her hand as well.

"Thank you for having me, Molly," he said politely.

"Not at all. We're happy to have you with us." She looked around and noticed her son's bewildered expression. "Professor Snape is coming with us to St. Mungo's, Percy." Percy nodded slowly and looked curiously at his old professor, then noticed Hermione staring at the older man.

"Ah. Well, have a safe trip then," and he headed towards the kitchen.

Shortly afterwards, Snape, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley went out the front door and Apparated to St. Mungo's. They arrived in a dark alley just to the side of the entrance to the old warehouse that was St. Mungo's. Ginny stared at it in sadness, while Mrs. Weasley put her arm around her shoulders and led her through the entrance. Hermione paused, staring up at the decrepit old building. She had only been here a time or two. The last time she had was to sign off on the medical examiners report, verifying her parent's mangled bodies. She sharply inhaled at the memory, and presently felt Snape's firm hand on the small of her back. Strong, yet reassuring. She bit back the tears, and looked up at him gratefully; he nodded and gave her a slight smile, and gestured them on. As they walked, Snape's hand stayed on her back.

They arrived at the front desk, Ginny signing in for them, and a short witch in lime-green medical robes led them through the double doors of the reception room and up a steep stairway, made a right, and then took them down a long corridor on the Fourth floor. Hermione saw through various doors' windows some of the patients in this ward. Some of them were completely neurotic in behaviour; Hermione felt a sharp stab of pain. Harry was among these people. She shook her head and wiped at a tear. Snape gently rubbed a small circle on her back, and he noticed as they walked, she had leaned closer into him. Halfway down the corridor, the medi-witch turned right, and brought out a large ring of old-fashioned keys. She said a small incantation and whispered something to Ginny. Ginny nodded and stepped through the open door, followed by Molly. Snape looked down to Hermione, ready whenever she was, but not pushing. However, after a few moments, Hermione still had not moved.

***
"Harry Potter! You come to finally meet your death..." The high-pitched raspy voice rang out in the room.
"Crucio!" The curse was directed at Hermione and she screamed and convulsed under it while Voldemort laughed. Harry fought against the chains that held him to the wall.
"Leave her alone you bastard!"....

***

The memory faded, and Hermione twitched under Snape's hand. He stopped his hand's movement, and removed it from her back. He took a breath and stepped in front of Hermione's line of vision to Harry's hospital room door.

Severus looked down patiently at her, with an encouraging expression, "It's just a visit." She blinked as if just noticing he was there. He added quietly taking her hands and rubbing her knuckles with his thumb, "You can't hide from him forever, Hermione. Come." She let him lead her forward, and his hand resumed its place on the small of her back and they stepped in through the doorway.

Hermione's whole body was tense, as she hesitantly looked around the room. The walls were covered with padding, as was the floor. There were no windows, and she speculated why this was. The colour of the room was a light, dull grey. Finally, she turned her gaze towards the centre of the room to the bed by the wall. There were some kind of magical monitoring devices spinning and glowing beside the bed, and a catheter tube poked out under the covers. Ginny was seated in a chair by the bedside, holding Harry's hands; Mrs. Weasley standing behind her, dabbing at her eyes. Hermione let her eyes fall on Harry. She gasped and leaned back into Severus. He stilled, supporting her, his free hand grasping her elbow.

"This isn't Harry..." she mouthed quietly, her voice filled with heart clenching sorrow. Snape swallowed as he looked at the young man who was barely recognizable, and shook his head sadly. He had avoided seeing the outcome of the Death-Eater's "play things" as much as he could in his life. It made him sick to his stomach.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat. "His eyes...." She took a small step forward, shaking her head, unbelieving. His skin was pale, whereas it had been tan. His hair was longer, and uncut, Ginny had to brush it to the side to keep it out of his face. His cheeks were hollowed, collarbones poking out through his flesh, as he sat propped up on a pillow, his mouth slack-jawed. And his eyes....his once bright, lively eyes....were glazed, and un-seeing. A pale grey line marked one side of his face- where Voldemort had touched him.

Hermione's eyes felt hot with tears, and her throat tightened as she took another step towards her best friend. She continued shaking her head, her sight blurred with salty tears.

"Harry." His glazed eyes continued staring at nothing. "Harry," she said more desperate. Ginny looked away, while Molly was trying to decide whether to go to Hermione, or stay holding her daughter. "Harry, no," she cried incredibly. She had fully expected him to pull through; to show some semblance of hope. He always did. He survived. He had his whole life, so why should it be different now? The very real fact that he didn't show that faint glimmer of hope rocked her entire being. Hermione's knees felt weak, and Snape noticed her sway and quickly pulled up a chair for her to slump into. She did and leaned over Harry, grabbing a hold of his right hand. Her eyes ran over Harry's pathetic face, and her tears dripped onto his cheeks. She bowed her head, laying her cheek on Harry's cold hand and squeezed her eyes shut.

"If...I only... would... have thought-"she forced out but couldn't speak anymore as a sob began pushing its way out of her very being. She kept his hand pressed to her face as she let the tears come and the painful sounds of heartache ripped through her throat. And she cried. It was at that moment, looking at Harry, her best friend, her first lover, partner-in-crime, Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived, that she felt the full force of all the pain, all the suffering, all the loss she had undergone throughout the past few months. Her parents, their rape and deaths. Her own rape and the death of her innocence. She cried for Ron, and Fred. And how she couldn't save Ron, or prevent the tragedy that had befallen Harry. She cried for the lives of the many other friends and teachers that had been lost. She cried for the Weasley's, and the sons that had been taken from them, and the pain they were forced to endure for the rest of their lives. She would never see Ron again. Never hear George and Fred speak the same words at the same time ever again. The pain in her heart was tangible, Hermione couldn't take it. Why couldn't she find a cure for Harry? What was she missing! "Why..." she moaned loudly.

Ginny grasped Hermione's hand and silently sobbed on the other side of the bed watching her. Hermione's chest continued to shake with fury, and right as Molly couldn't stand to leave Hermione alone another second, Severus moved in and bent down on his knees to hold her as she cried. Had it not been such a heart-rending moment, Molly might have been surprised. Instead she gripped her only daughter's shoulders tighter and closed her eyes. Her heart was breaking for everyone in the room.

Snape held Hermione for an interminable amount of time until she wore herself out. And even still she cried, though there were no more tears. There was only empty, hollow, pain. Keeping hold of Harry's hand, she leaned into the warm embrace Severus offered to her. She barely even registered what it had taken for him to do this for her. She sat, rubbing Harry's hand, praying to every deity, to God, to help her. To help Harry.

Snape smoothed the hair that had clung to her tear-streaked face, out of the way, and pressed her cheek into his chest. She gratefully accepted the comfort; even if she was half-numb from shock. He had never seen anyone suffer so much heartache in his entire life. His whole being shook to the core when her muffled sobs echoed in his chest. Her hurt for her. He didn't want her to suffer. He didn't know what it was inside of him that automatically kicked in, and made him go to her, and to have this incredible urge to not want her to hurt anymore. So he held her, until she stopped all movement in his arms. He didn't even notice Molly Weasley come up behind him and bend down to his ear, and he jumped at her soft words.

"Take her home, Severus." He nodded, not needing another word to gather her up in his arms and take her away. He looked despondently back to Ginny who nodded and went to stare back at Harry. He turned and quickly strode out the door with Hermione still in his arms. When he reached the end of the corridor, he stepped onto the revolving staircase to get back to the main floor, and out the front doors. She was still quietly shaking and had wrapped her arms around his neck, her face buried just under his chin.

Once outside, he whispered into her hair, "Please hold on..." and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against hers, and slipped a hand, carefully, into the folds of his robes to latch onto a portkey each of the staff had for emergencies, and held on while they were taken back to their home.

~*~*~*

When they had reached the gates of Hogwarts he immediately went through them, not bothering to see if Hermione could walk. Snape was worried about her. Her movements in his arms were becoming less and less, and her breathing seemed shallow. As soon as they got in the castle he was going to take her to Madam Pomfrey.

The sun was just starting to settle in the West, and the castle threw large shadows over the grounds. When they approached the front steps, he shifted her in his arms a bit, and then continued on up to the great oak front doors. No one was in the entry hall. He carried her up the main staircase and down the hall to the Hospital Wing, bursting through the doors. He just hoped Poppy would have something to ease her mind, lest she start to go back into the coma she had used before.

"Poppy!" he called as he lay her gently down on the nearest bed. Hermione clutched at his robes, not wanting him to leave her. He continued softly, "I'm just going to get Poppy. I'll be right back."

"Don't leave me..." she said weakly, still holding onto the front of his robes. He was leaning over her at an awkward angle while he looked around the room, then back to her.

"Very well." He placed a hand on one side of her body, his other stroking her cheek; she snuggled up to his arm, another tear slipping out of her lashes. "Poppy?!" he called again. 'Why isn't she answering?' he thought angrily. He tried to think about where she could be....and then realized the women had said something that morning about going into Hogsmeade.

"Damnit," he whispered fiercely. Hermione winced and continued to shake. Snape reached down to feel her pulse; weak but steady. "You will not go back there, Hermione," he stated rather harshly.

He went to the fireplace at one end of the room, grabbed a pinch of floo powder from the nondescript box on the mantle, and threw it in. He quietly announced his room, then went back to scoop Hermione back up into his arms. She whimpered and placed her face back into the crook of his neck. He tucked them into the fireplace and was immediately taken into his private quarters.

Through the haze, Hermione was vaguely aware as to where she was. She felt slick, cool sheets under her suddenly instead of Severus' warm, strong arms. She shivered and huddled into her self. She just wanted to give in again.

"Too much..." she whispered. Harry's ruined appearance floated back to her. She twisted her face side to side, "no no nonononono..." A hand stopped her head from thrashing about and she looked up.

"I want you to drink this. But you have to promise me, you will not use this to hurt yourself." Snape had a small vial of a weaker version of the Fulcio potion to give her some strength. Hermione looked at him blankly, but drank the potion anyways. He set the empty vial aside, and watched as some colour came back into her face. He sat on the edge of his bed, where he had laid Hermione and took hold of her hands.

"How do you feel?" he asked. She looked miserable; he wanted to take that away from her. His thumbs automatically started soothing her hands in large circles. She didn't respond for a bit.

"I wish I didn't. I don't." she said quietly. Then she sat up and scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. "I can't take this!! Did you see him? Harry!" She wiped angrily at her tears, starting to feel the warmth from the potion beginning kick in. Snape sat where he was, watching her quietly.

"I did." He answered, and she shook her head. "Hermione...I don't know what you're thinking...but whatever you do think...you have to realize it's not you fault. Harry knew what he was doing. There was nothing you could do for him."

She hung her head and whispered softly, "Why does everyone I love die?" Tears fell from her lashes again and she didn't stop them. Her chest was tightening, and she inhaled. "Why did I lose everything? Why!" She got up with a pained scream and stalked to the fireplace. He stared at her sadly.

"I hate this! All of this! I want out!" This time Severus got up, frightened by her words, and went to her.

"So you would rather just quit? Give up? Not very Gryffindor of you is it?" He sneered.

"Who cares?! Why do you care? Just one more defeat for me. Not living up to my expectations. Well damn! Maybe I can banish any shred of hope anyone has left in me, and be properly miserable!"

A thousand different scathing words to say, ticked on his tongue, but he wouldn't say any of them. She was letting go again. Something, deep in his chest registered that fact; and it actually scared him. It stirred up his insides; because he knew this time they wouldn't be able to get her back. And he felt a profound loss, deep inside and had to act. Every fibre of him wanted to reach out to her, make her feel something other than pain. Hell, he wanted to feel that. He said the only words that seemed fitting now.

"I care," and he was shocked when he realized those words were true. He cared enough to not want her to leave. Whether it be him, or this world. A light went off in his mind. He wanted her here. With him preferably. He really wanted her there! He wanted to give in and feel, really feel. Feel love, feel joy! And his heart screamed out that she could be the one to give him that. And here she was, wanting to throw everything away. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it happen. He quickly closed the space between them, and grabbed her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. Her mouth was slightly open, staring back at him.

"I care, Hermione," he repeated. She closed her lips and glared at him.

"Really! One would never tell, Severus! I certainly couldn't, what with how you ignore me! See a damaged figure, eh?" She yelled at him. She closed her eyes to escape those piercing orbs of his and said softly. "I do."

His hands slid down, to firmly grasp her upper arms and he moved his face closely to in front of hers, "You are not damaged. Look at me." Reluctantly she did. "You can have so much...you can have more." She shook her head, and turned to move; afraid the feel of him would keep her there. She just wanted out. However, his grip tightened on her arms again.

"Don't leave," he almost pleaded. Hermione stopped; something in his voice touched her.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Why Severus? Why? You'll just leave me too. Everyone does." Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes; his heart wrenched again. "They always do," she sniffed and opened her eyes again shaking her head. Her curls had escaped their confinement and softly fell about her face. "Then what will I have? There is nothing....you would be taken from me too. There is nothing in me anymore." She wriggled an arm free and turned to leave him, but he kept her other hand and pulled back.

'Now or never, Severus...'

"No," he said darkly, and then jerked her back to him. She gasped and was flung into his chest, her back moulding into his stomach. The hand that held hers pressed into her torso, holding her there, while his other hand came up and rested on her belly. Hermione inhaled when he pressed into her soft flesh. He leaned his face next to ear, tilting her head. Hermione's heart rate quickened, what was going on....

"You don't understand." He breathed her scent in deeply and nuzzled her hair. Her own breath caught. "You can't leave. You don't get it, Hermione." His voice rumbled in her chest, and his right hand that held hers captive began moving up to her wrist, then back down to capture her fingers in his, blazing fire on her skin.

Hermione's mouth worked silently, her brain having thoroughly been confused. He smiled against her bewilderment, and nuzzled just behind her ear. "You belong here, Hermione. With me," his tongue darted out to lick the outer curve of her ear. She gasped; her legs starting to melt right there, but she was still frozen in place. He chuckled, darkly. "You see?" His mouth barely skimmed down the side of her throat until it got to the hollow. His lips brushed her neck as he spoke, "You know it. That's why you're still here. Isn't it, my dear?" and he softly kissed her throat. Hermione swore his lips were made of flame.

She made a soft, inarticulate sound, which made him chuckle again. "What was that?" he said against her neck, still kissing.

Hermione tried to clear her throat, and began again. "I don't know..." but Severus continued as though he hadn't heard her. The hand that was pressed into her belly, made its way down to her hip, pressing her bottom into his groin, Hermione inhaled again.

He went on. "But, what I don't understand....is why you keep trying to run away. It's most confusing, Hermione. You pursue me," at this she tried to make a sound of protest, "then you hide...and then you try to get to me again...and now you're trying to run away." He kissed just behind her ear, and she whimpered. He smiled. She was doing exactly what he wanted her to. "You're such a confusing girl. Perhaps, I can figure you out, hm?" The hand at her hip moved lower still, running over the top of her thigh, and she twitched under it. He brought it slowly, roughly, back up to her stomach and pressed her back into him. Hermione could definitely feel his passion pressing into her from behind; it made her head spin. This wasn't at all what she had imagined would happen. She had fully intended to end her life, that night; and then he had to go and do something like this. His tongue again darted out to taste her flesh once more.

She blinked, "No..." and Hermione tried, weakly, to push away. Severus growled and pressed her roughly back into him. His hands capturing hers, holding her and he roughly whispered into her ear.

"Don't you feel it!" he said, his breath hot on her skin.

She was whimpering again, "..what..."

"Life...life, Hermione!" he bit down on the soft lobe of her ear and she cried out. He soothed the hurt with his tongue, and continued softly. "Don't you feel alive? Here? Now?" His hands had brought hers up above her head, and he grazed the gentle curve of her breasts.
She was feeling something all right... "...yes..." she said faintly. He ran his hands back down her arms and trailed them down over her breasts, feeling the hardened nipples under his palms. She squirmed beneath them.

"Again," he said harshly. Hermione arched her back into those glorious hands.

"Yes..." she said louder, quickly losing her self-control.

His palms then closed around her breasts, softly kneading them. Her backside began rubbing rhythmically into his throbbing groin...he didn't know how much more he could take.

"Again," he panted, giving her another squeeze.

"YES!" she cried out and turned to him. He bent his head and roughly seized her lips with his. Her hands came up quickly to wrap around his neck and she immediately opened up to him, wanting his tongue in her mouth. He hungrily obliged and began exploring her lips, her tongue and teeth. She tasted unbelievable and he deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around her back tightly. Hermione moaned against him and pressed harder into him, snaking one leg around his, furthering their closeness. He growled deeply and continued the kiss. They were furiously battling, each trying to gain the upper hand, which excited him. He had never felt this kind of passion for another woman in his entire life. She was burning him up from the inside out.

His hands slid up her back, roaming everywhere. He couldn't feel her fast enough. And her little pink dress, while very appealing, was soon becoming a burden to him. Hermione's own hands had slithered their way up into his soft hair and was grasping. He loved the feel of her hands in his hair all of a sudden. Their mouths continued their desperate explorations, when her hands came down to the front of his robes, fumbling with the buttons. In her mind she couldn't help but complain, 'Of course today he would wear his black robes...ugh!' She groaned in frustration, and he smiled against her lips. He softly whispered something Hermione had never heard before...and suddenly his bare skin was connecting with her hands. She gasped, and removed her lips from his in shock and looked down. His shirt and robes were completely gone. Her eyes widened curiously and she blinked. He smiled coyly and began pushing against her.

Later, while she lay panting beside him he gathered her in his arms, basking in the afterglow. His hands rubbed lazy patterns on her arms, and she nuzzled her face just under his chin; they both noticed how perfectly she fit against him, but neither said anything. She curled up into him, her hand lightly resting on his chest, and gave in to sleep, before she could think about anything else. He reached down and pulled a black satin sheet, up over them, and listened to the steady sound of her breathing. If he could have died, he would have actually have died a happy man at that moment. Her brown curls spilled out on the pillow behind her, and his lids drooped eventually after watching her sleep. He snuggled into her one last time, before himself giving in to his exhaustion, and slept with her in his arms that night.
~*~*~*~*