Perfection

Old picture on the shelf

It's been there for a while

A frozen image of ourselves

We were acting like a child

Innocent and in a trance

A dance that lasted for a while

Read my eyes just like a diary

Oh remember, please remember

Well I'm not a beggar, but what's more

If I hurt you then I hate myself

I don't want to hate myself, don't want to hurt you

Why do you choose that pain if you only knew

How much I love you, no

Well I won't be your winter

And I won't be anyone's excuse to cry

We can be forgiven

And I will be here

~Your Winter, Sister Hazel

Perfection

Chapter 18: Time of Troubles

Severus pulled his cloak around him more tightly against the wind that already hinted at winter as he let the door to the potion supply shop close behind him. Heaving a sigh, he muttered, "Well, Mother, here goes..." as he turned in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, where he knew she was rooming.

"Severus."

The voice made him wheel around, heart in his mouth as he recognized it. "Avery," he replied curtly. "It's been a while."

"Not really," the other man said, mouth curving into a smile. "Care for a chat?"

He didn't need finely honed instincts to tell him that the discussion would not be likely to include butterbeer. "Did you need something?"

Avery's smile broadened as he felt himself seized from behind. "Yes, actually, I did."

*

She sucked on the end of her quill, trying to concentrate on her notes, but she couldn't help worrying. The supplies had been delivered already--Severus should have returned long ago. Hermione tried to comfort herself with the thought that no one in their right mind would launch an attack on someone on a street in broad daylight, to no avail.

Merlin, she thought, he's probably just stopped for a drink somewhere. You're being ridiculous and clingy.

With a shake of her head, she stood up and began pacing impatiently, moments from ripping her hair out. Was this how he had felt--completely powerless to stop anything--as a spy? If so, she was beginning to have a remarkable insight into his personality.

A knock at the door made her heart nearly stop. It couldn't be him--he would never knock to get into his own workroom--but she couldn't think of who else it would be. Opening the door, she froze in confusion.

"Miss Granger," the headmaster began gravely, "I'm afraid I have some terrible news. Your mother came under attack today by what we presume to be a small group of Death Eaters. Fortunately your former professor, Lupin, was able to successfully evade it and she is currently safe in London."

If her muscles hadn't tensed beyond belief, she might have collapsed. "Why?" she croaked, resting a hand on the wall for support. "She doesn't have anything to do with--with any of this..."

"We can only speculate, Miss Granger, that it was designed to gain leverage with you, regarding a certain potion."

The hand on the wall wasn't enough to support her any longer. Trembling knees gave way and she found her backside connecting harshly with the stone floor.

"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" Dumbledore inquired. The concern on his face was almost too much for her, and tears pricked at the backs of her eyes.

She shook her head sharply, something like icy resolve hardening within her. "No. No. I think I just need a minute. I'm sorry, sir."

He offered her a hand to help her up, and she took it, trying not to be alarmed at the feel of brittle bones close beneath his wrinkled skin. He was old.

Somehow, this alarmed her more than anything else.

*

"I still don't understand why I'm a target," Agrippa cut in, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "I understand that Hermione is a witch, but I have nothing to do--"

Remus sighed heavily. "Yes, you do. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named targets muggleborns mainly and unfortunately she is one, as well as one of Harry Potter's closest friends. Both of these things put her in the direct line of fire. As I understand, she also bore witness to a Death Eater gathering of some sort and escaped alive, sanity intact, which is far more than to be expected. You-Know-Who recognized her as a threat and to be honest, I can see why. She's more powerful than she realises--take it from a former teacher. The only thing holding her back is her fear of failure and he is bound to have realised that by now. If she feels in any way that she has failed to protect you--or anyone she cares about there's no telling what it would do to her."

"Are we positive that this is my Hermione we're talking about?" Agrippa asked, furrowing her brow. "She's bright, there's no question about that, but I still can't see her wielding any amount of power..."

Remus breathed deeply. "That's because you still see her as the girl whose diapers you changed and who fell and scraped her knee. I'm not the only one who has noticed either. Severus realises it--he's been paying more attention to her than he does to anyone. And Dumbledore as well--it was his idea to keep you guarded at all times. In case something like what happened today occurred and you were caught defenceless."

Agrippa nodded as she contemplated this, still having difficulties getting a grasp on the concept. Molly Weasley brought her in another cup of tea, and patted her on the arm as if she were comforting a small child.

"It only gets harder," she commented wryly. "Believe me."

Agrippa's lips twitched as she leaned against the back of the sofa in exhaustion. "What about normal?"

"Never a dull moment," Remus replied cheerfully. "But we managed to escape in time, and that's the only thing that matters."

*

"So... what is the, you know, transformation like?" Harry asked curiously.

Ginny pursed her lips tightly and gave a grim smile. She knew that Harry visited Hagrid frequently, but why today of all days? Controlling the griffin had been going fine until The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Leave-Her-The-Hell-Alone had turned up and automatically assumed that she was being attacked. She was positive it would take months of scrubbing before Hagrid got all the blood off of his house.

"A lot less complicated," she replied cryptically, lengthening her strides in hopes that he would get the message.

"Look," Harry said, easily matching her pace, "I'm really sorry about what happened this summer... I was under a lot of pressure and seeing you with Draco made me a little crazy."

"And an apology makes it all better," she shot back, refusing to look at him.

"Well, n-no," he stammered. "But maybe I could make it up to you sometime. Now that you're not... you know."

"Or not. I think I've reached my yearly quota of bastards already. Try again in January, if you like."

"That's bitter."

"That's life."

Eventually, they reached the stairs to the front entrance of Hogwarts and began climbing, but their stony silence was soon interrupted by Ginny's bloodcurdling shriek. "Professor Snape? Go get Madam Pomfrey! Harry, for Merlin's sake, did you hear what I--"

But Harry hadn't. He was staring at the pathetic form on the ground, pale and trembling, completely unaware of what was going on. Ginny felt a touch of panic at the sight of this--much as she disliked him at times, he was the one with experience. He was supposed to know what to do...

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly, feeling a strange viciousness rise up inside of her. "Harry," she snarled, "get Madam Pomfrey now."

He blinked, as if only just seeing her, then set off bolting into the castle as Ginny knelt beside him, frantically feeling for a pulse and almost fainting in relief when she found it. Without thinking, she hefted him over her shoulder and began lugging him through the foyer in the direction of the hospital wing, not caring if anyone noticed her abnormal display of strength.

*

Hermione banged through the doors of the hospital wing, heart beating so quickly she thought it was about to explode. Severus and her mother, both in one day... She caught sight of the nurse bent over him, forcing a potion down his throat and nearly burst into tears.

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey greeted her. "Can I help you with something?"

"Is he--is he going to be okay?"

She nodded. "He'll pull through, though I'm not sure how he's managed it. It was fortunate for him that Miss Weasley and Mr Potter found him in time. The bruises will heal easily enough--it's the damage to internal organs and the concussion that are going to take time--but he should be up in another week or so."

Her eyes were drawn to the corner where Harry was huddled, shaking as Ginny tried to snap him out of it.

"Can I... talk to him?" Hermione asked tentatively, surprised by the sympathetic nod she received.

"Although I'm not sure how much he'll understand. Understandably, he's rather disoriented."

Hermione sat down next to him on the hospital bed, twisting the sheets in her hands and trying desperately to keep from crying. His eyes stared at her, but they were the eyes of someone lost inside of their own nightmares, desperate and petrified.

"It's ok," she whispered, painfully aware of Madam Pomfrey's gaze on the back of her neck. "You're safe now. Everything will be fine--Madam Pomfrey says you'll be healed in a week." She paused, smoothing a piece of hair out of his face as he began to thrash wildly. "Just rest..."

His lost expression was briefly replaced by lucidity as he clutched at her arm and began speaking brokenly. "It worked--the potion. Avada Kedavra--it didn't kill me..." His mouth twitched into a weak smile. "Though their fists almost did..."

His breathing grew more laboured and he tried to sit up, but winced in pain before he could lift his head more than an inch off of the pillow. "Make more... I ordered the ingredients. Make as much as you possibly can."

"You'll help me," she tried to reassure him, afraid that he was about to sink back into whatever state he had been in previously.

"Mother," he gasped, and she leaned closer. "My eggs are burnt... Why did you burn them?"

"There's no eggs," she tried to reassure him, but he was no longer seeing her.

"Why did you do it?" he shrieked out, writhing. "They were the only eggs left..."

"I'm going to have to sedate him," Madam Pomfrey said, stepping in. "He'll never heal properly otherwise."

"Has he gone insane?" Hermione asked, horrified. If only she had gone to get the supplies instead or they had just sent an owl with the order... Why had she let him leave?

"It's the post-traumatic effect," the nurse told her tersely. "He could come out of it, but there's no guarantee."

"But--"

She was cut off by Dumbledore bursting in, looking more than furious and closely followed by Draco and Ron, who appeared to have momentarily gotten over their hatred for each other.

"What has happened?" the headmaster barked out, voice harsh and white hair floating around him like a cloak.

"Yeah," Ron added, taking in the sight of Madam Pomfrey wrestling Snape down as she tried to force a sleeping draught down his throat, Hermione's tear-stained face, and Ginny hunched over Harry, still trying to convince him to stop hyperventilating.

Draco could only offer a string of curses and a longing look at Ginny.

"What's he doing here?" Ginny spat out, with a venomous glare at her former boyfriend.

"Making sure my head of house is still alive," he shot back.

For a moment electricity seemed to crackle around the room as Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore conferred in the corner, before Hermione spoke up. "Let's go. All of us. We'll only get in the way."

"What about Harry?" Ginny asked, reluctant to abandon her charge.

"Him too. We're going to the dungeons."

"All of us?" Draco protested, with a worried glance at the youngest Weasley. "Because I really think that it would--"

"We are all going to go down to the dungeons, where you are all going to help me with a potion that will keep us all from getting killed," Hermione snapped, her voice taking on a new, commanding tone that spoke of barely controlled fury. "Now move. Everyone."

Looking chastised, they obeyed, Ginny tugging at Harry until he followed; entirely mute except for the occasional whimper that escaped his lips. It wasn't until they reached the workroom that anyone dared to speak.

"What exactly are we doing?" Ginny asked.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath of air, trying to remain composed. "Do you remember that potions project that I worked on for a wizarding conference in Germany this summer?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"Turns out that the potion I made repels the killing curse, along with almost any other hex you can think up if you drink it once."

"So you want us to help you make more?" Ron asked, wincing. "I hate to point this out, but none of us are what you'd call gifted potion brewers."

"My marks are highest in the year," Draco interjected. "Well, except for maybe Granger's."

"Three guesses why," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"Look," Hermione cut in, before they could go at it, "I don't care--we have to do something. Not next week, not next month, now. I'm damned sick of just sitting here waiting for something to happen--"

"Did Granger just swear?" Draco asked sarcastically, eyes widening.

"Go fuck yourself, Malfoy," Hermione replied, barely resisting the urge to hit him. "The notes that I took for the potion are on the table. I suggest you all read them as soon as possible. We start tomorrow at five-thirty in the morning. Don't even consider being late."

"There's only one copy," Ginny pointed out as she began shuffling through the papers.

Clenching her teeth, Hermione waved her wand and three more appeared.

"What are we going to do about him?" Draco asked, pointing a thumb at Harry, who was still staring into space numbly.

She inhaled sharply. "I don't know. We hope that he comes to his senses. What happened to him, anyway?"

Ginny shrugged. "He saw Snape and just... froze up. I had to yell to get him to go find Pomfrey. Do you think he'll be all right?"

"I can't say. But we can't let anyone else know, whatever happens. If word gets out that the Boy-Who-Lived has cracked, it's going to be absolute insanity and Voldemort might decide that he really does want to launch a full-blown attack on Hogwarts after all. Of course, with any amount of luck..."

"Since when was luck on our side?" Draco asked gloomily.

"Thanks for the uplifting comment of the day," Ginny barked. "Your positive attitude is supporting the rest of us amazingly."

"Can we focus?" Ron broke in, surprising everyone. "Hermione's right--as usual. We have to do something. I'd really rather not work with him either, but right now, that's not the important thing."

Hermione looked at the redhead gratefully. "I'm going to go. I have to try and convince Dumbledore to let us miss classes, at least until Sev--Snape is on his feet again. Someone needs to keep an eye on the potion at all times. Nothing can go wrong. Now, start reading the notes and when I come back I'll take stock and figure out how we're going to do this."

As soon as she stalked out of the room, Draco asked, "Who put her in charge?" but was acknowledged only by furious glares from the opposite side of the table.

*

He floated in stasis somewhere, not quite existing but not quite ceasing to do so either. Things replayed themselves over and over, entangling him in their web as they did so. Sometimes he thought that he came out of it and could see people bending over him, taking care of him, but they seemed no more real than the images from his past that kept returning.

He was his father, could feel his rage as Gertrude cowered beneath him and his shadow of a son peered through the railing upstairs at the scene taking place. Felt his fist smash into the woman's jaw, wand lying forgotten on the floor behind them...

A moment later he was in his own body, backing away from James and Sirius, who had cornered him in the corridor, the promise of malice in their voices echoing off the walls as they closed in on him. "Scared yet, Snivellus?"

Then he was looking up at Hermione as she straddled him, curving her mouth into a teasing grin as he rolled over on top of her and they melded together, skin sliding over skin as the sheets twisted around them in the dim light. Arching her back into him, she lifted her head to his ear, nibbling on it for a moment, before whispering, "Come back..."

*

"You sure you don't need to get some rest, Granger?" Draco asked, worry getting the best of him in spite of himself.

"And leave you alone with the potion? Over my dead body, Malfoy."

He sighed and rested his head on his arms, forcing his eyes to stay open. They had been working steadily for nearly a week now, taking shifts supervising the Golden Shield and Harry at the same time--not that the latter required much effort, beyond making sure he ate three meals a day and went to the toilet at regular intervals. He mostly just sat on one of the chairs mutely, looking at them without really seeing anything as they worked. The more he contemplated it, the more he realised how right Hermione had been--no one could know how far gone Potter really was, or it would mean the Dark Lord decide to hell with whatever caution he had been using.

Hermione was turning out to be right about a lot of things, Draco decided, feeling a touch of respect for her. Like Neville, for instance. When she had first dragged him down to the dungeons to help them, everyone except for Harry had nearly had a conniption and launched into a discussion of every cauldron the plump Gryffindor had ever melted, but as luck would have it all Longbottom really needed to improve was Hermione's confidence.

But there was still something not quite right with Hermione. All of her drive and determination seemed to be flowing from a sort of desperation that almost didn't seem healthy. And she didn't seem to be eating, despite her constant harping at them not to overwork themselves. Almost all of the platters the house elves brought her were sent back untouched and with the exception of the one night where she had frantically convinced Dobby to bring her an extra meal at three in the morning, there had been no snacks as far as he could tell.

"What book are you reading?" he asked her, after nearly half an hour of awkward silence.

"Just one from Severus's library," she replied absently.

"Severus?"

"Professor Snape," she corrected herself, still not really paying attention.

"You're on first-name terms now?"

She put the book down and stared him down coolly. "We've been working together for a while. It only seemed reasonable."

He arched a brow. "I see... And working was entirely the reason that you were together the night of that little romp we had in the Forbidden Forest."

She nodded and he laughed. "I'm impressed with how you managed to keep such a straight face. And honestly, I don't care if the two of you are sharing sheets--it's just fun to make you flustered."

"There was a three syllable word in there somewhere. I'm impressed."

"Shocking, isn't it? But tell me, have you convinced him to take a shower yet?"

"You're a pig, Malfoy."

He chuckled and let her go back to reading as he idly practiced transforming a quill to a piece of parchment and back again. A while later, he stopped and began talking again.

"So tell me, is it a love thing or purely physical?"

"You really are challenged when it comes to the silence thing aren't you?" she snapped. "And it's none of your damn business."

"So there is something going on, then," he smirked.

"Didn't we establish that half an hour ago?"

"No, I presented my theory to you, but you didn't admit a thing. Now it's been proven."

"Would you like my diary as well?"

"Only if you've described all the erotic bits in great detail..."

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned. "Nights been lonely lately?" she inquired acidly.

"You have no idea..." He sighed and studied the surface of the table, suddenly overcome by emotion that didn't fit their wry conversation.

"You miss her, don't you?" Hermione asked sympathetically.

He nodded bitterly. "I didn't think... I had no idea that I would care this much. I didn't know that I knew how."

Hermione smiled a little sadly. "Life goes on, I guess."

"Sure wish it didn't." He sniffed, then wiped his eyes hastily. "I wasn't crying," he defended before she could comment.

"Of course not," she replied soothingly. "I can watch the potion on my own, if you like. You look like you need a rest."

He shook his head. "No use. I won't be able to sleep."

She laughed dryly. "You too?"

*

"Physically, he's almost completely healed," Madam Pomfrey was saying. "But I can't seem to get him out of whatever state he's in."

Hermione bit her lip and stared down at Severus, tears springing to her eyes.

Madam Pomfrey patted her on the arm awkwardly. "Don't give up yet. Give him a little time. It's only been a week and a half."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "D'you think it would be all right to sit with him for a while?"

The nurse pulled the curtain around the bed to give them some privacy, then bustled off into the next room as Hermione sank down onto the white blankets, curling up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder, fingering a button on his shirt.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, closing her eyes. "I never should have let you go out that day..."

She buried her head in his arm, letting some tears leak out, and lay there for a few moments, trying to pretend that nothing was any different. "We're still working on the potion," she told him, moving her lips although barely any sound came out. "Almost done the first batch. I think you'd be surprised by Neville--he hasn't choked once. It's like I said--all he needs is someone to believe he can do it. And Malfoy's been almost bearable through the whole thing, although that might be lack of sleep talking. We still can't leave him and Ginny in a room together though. And Ron--he's been different, taking things seriously. He's still not that great when it comes to actually making the potion, though... I wish you were there to see it. I miss being able to ask questions instead of being the one in charge all of the time. I can do it, just... it's not the same. I'm always worried that someone is going to ask a question I don't know the answer to..." Her voice broke off and she closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill over and drown her. "I should go check on the others," she whispered after a few minutes of silence. "I don't trust them to do it properly."

Hermione stood up slowly, bending over to kiss him lightly on the lips before jogging off without looking back.

*

The images were beginning to fade, giving way to blackness. He tried to cling to them, terrified that without them there would be simply nothing, which was infinitely worse than being forced to relive his life in a random scattered order. He writhed, fighting the darkness, but the pull was too strong and eventually he gave himself up to it.

Everything melted together and only one sound remained echoing in his mind, beckoning him onwards...

*

"Should I add some more?" Hermione wondered aloud to Harry, who only looked at her vaguely. "I'm not sure that the consistency is what it should be, but some more of the dragon blood should help."

His gaze wandered away, making her sigh heavily.

"Why am I asking you?" she muttered, annoyed at herself. "You aren't hearing me. Neither is he. No matter what I say, no matter what I do. I could tell you anything right now and I wouldn't have to worry about it getting spread around."

Burying her head in her hands, she swallowed the lump growing in her throat. She couldn't cry, despite the fact that every day, another part of her seemed to slip away. For the first time in her life, people were looking to her, counting on her to be strong and she refused to let them down, no matter how bleak things seemed.

"You know what I wish?" she continued, more to keep from being swallowed by silence than anything. "Not that it matters, but I wish that I could at least have had a chance to tell him what he meant to me. We talked about everything else, but never us. It sounds horribly cliché, but it's the truth." She paused to shake her head. "Maybe I've been at this too long. Talking to a crazy person and myself can't be a good sign. Sleeping could be nice--if I could get rid of my insomnia. Draco should be here soon. Then I'll at least be able to rest. That's another sign that my sanity's waning--trusting a Malfoy. Merlin, I wish you could answer me..."

*

The darkness was fading into a painfully white light that scorched his eyes and made his head throb. At first, he thought that he had gone mad but after a moment, he realised that he was in the hospital wing. He tried to remember what he was doing here, but the last he could remember was the potion shop in Hogsmeade. He had left, walked down the street towards where his mother was staying... Avery... Avery had been there, as well as several others. But who?

He strained his mind, knowing that he would have to report. Narcissa--he would recognize her frozen touch anywhere. Pettigrew as well, and Goyle. And one other--someone familiar, but out of their natural setting. He shifted slightly, trying to recall the movements, the voice... It came to him so suddenly that, had he been sitting up, he would have been bowled over. As it was, he felt a shudder of surprise run through him.

Percy Weasley.

How on earth could he break the news to Molly?

He was saved having to consider the question too deeply by Madam Pomfrey, who bustled in and had to mask a gasp upon seeing him awake.

"Severus, good morning," she greeted him, advancing on him with a vial of some sort of concoction. "The Granger girl will be glad to know you've woken up at last. I could barely keep her away."

"Morning?" he asked, trying to sit up and failing miserably. "It's morning already? Where's Dumbledore? I need to talk to him."

She hardly missed a beat, swooping and replying, "It's a bit later than the morning after."

Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as he inquired, "How many days have we lost?"

She handed him the potion. "Drink this. And it's not a matter of days--it's weeks. Three and a half to be exact."

He tried to mask his sense of panic, but the liquid that was spraying out of his mouth didn't help. "Three weeks?"

She nodded, tight-lipped. "We were starting to worry you weren't coming back, especially with all of the sedatives we had to give you."

"Sedatives?" he snapped, succeeding in raising himself from the pillow. "You gave me sedatives?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded tersely. "I know you hate them, but there wasn't much choice. You were completely incoherent and if you had seen the look on her face, you would have done the same."

"Who?"

"Miss Granger. One minute you were talking to her, the next... something about burnt eggs. She looked ready to break apart."

Hermione. He had been going to visit his mother with the purpose of discussing her--actually, he had planned less of a conversation and more of a threat, but no matter.

He swallowed. "H-how is she?"

"She's fine."

*

Ginny was restless. The last full moon--which she had spent locked in the shrieking shack--had left her wild and unfulfilled and the wolf was positively begging to be let out. She slammed the book that she was trying to study closed and glanced around the room. Not even Harry was there--Hermione had put him to sleep in the next room over. There was no reason not to. It wasn't as if she wasn't in control...

She stood and shifted, clothing falling away from her form as she did so and feeling the now-familiar rush of strength fill her.

*

However brilliant and talented in other areas she might be, Minerva McGonagall was not a Potions teacher, Hermione speculated. Far from, in fact. Thankfully, the time to relieve Ginny from her duties was approaching and this torture would be short-lived.

She couldn't help but wonder what Severus would think about how his class had deteriorated in his absence. An image of his coal-black eyes flashing with smugness as he muttered bitterly about inept teachers sprang to mind, making it difficult to keep a straight face and preserve every moment in her mind to repeat to him. If he woke up, they would laugh about it. No, she corrected herself. Not if, when.

A knock at the door caused everyone to turn in surprise and stare at Madam Pomfrey, who was beckoning Hermione into the corridor. She stood, heart in her mouth and gathered up her books, wondering what could have possibly gone so horribly wrong that she would be called out of class. On her way out, she made sure that she caught Draco's eye and mouthed, Your turn, so that there could be no dispute.

She caught sight of his nod before the door swung shut behind her, leaving her alone with the nurse.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked finally, trying to keep bile from rising up in her throat.

The older woman shook her head. "He's awake. I thought that you might be interested."

Madam Pomfrey's expression never changed from the firm, unwavering one that Hermione had grown used to, but Hermione was touched nonetheless.

"Is it--is it all right if I see him?" she inquired tentatively, preparing herself for the rejection.

The nurse nodded and barely a second later, Hermione was sprinting past her up the stairs not bothering to hide her relief.

*

Draco pushed the workroom door open and, for a second, he could have sworn that his heart stopped at the sight of the animal that was pausing in mid-step to study him, fangs bared. He blinked and looked again, only now it was Ginny crouching on the floor naked.

"Care to tell me what the hell is going on, Weasley?" he drawled, picking up her heap of clothes and tossing them at her.

"Not really," she shrugged, pulling the robes on easily, obviously not bothered by modesty.

"I realise that you're a werewolf and all, but it's not quite the full moon, so I think that you should explain."

"And give me one good reason why I should listen to you," she snarled. "I could rip you apart without even bothering to change if I felt like it."

"But you won't," he smirked.

"Give me one good reason not to."

"I saved your life," he said simply. "You owe me."

"If it hadn't been for you, my life wouldn't have need saving," she barked out.

"Do you really think that if it hadn't been for me you would have been fine? The Dark Lord wants you--don't say that you don't realise that. I don't know why, but he does. What I did was just a little hiccough in his plan."

"My hero," she spat sarcastically. "Why don't you go and put one of those stupid suits of armour on so you can look the part?"

"I was scared, all right?" he roared, voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't given a choice. I came home for Christmas holidays and my father gave me instructions. My father."

"And we all know what a worthy man he is."

"He said that it was the only way."

"The only way to what? Get laid?" she asked, eyes glittering with barely repressed fury. "Stop trying to justify yourself, Malfoy. There's always a choice."

"What would you know?"

"Don't even think about trying to blame this on me. I had nothing to do with it."

"Keep telling yourself that," he retorted. "Maybe sooner or later you'll believe it."

She froze, torn between running and shredding him to pieces. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think that my father didn't tell me about the Chamber? I may not have known at the time, but I heard all of the details later--"

The blow aimed at his head, strong enough to send him reeling into the far wall, cut him off. "Merlin, Weasley, what are you doing?" he coughed, staggering to his feet.

"Not another word," she hissed, the tendrils of her fury snaking around him. "Hermione might be willing to put up with you, but I'm not. I don't know why I ever thought that I could."

She turned and exited, her face deceptively calm. It was only once he was certain that she wasn't coming back that he allowed himself to bury his head in his arms and sink against the wall in bitter resignation.

*

"I can't believe that you're awake," she murmured in his ear, idly tracing a design on his chest with a fingertip. "Three weeks really isn't that long, but it felt like it..."

The corners of his mouth twitched as he propped himself up. "Don't tell me that you were giving up."

"Never."

She was stretched out beside him, her head tucked into the hollow in his chest and more relaxed than she had been in what felt like years. Both of them were more than thankful that Madam Pomfrey had granted them a semblance of privacy by drawing the curtains around Severus's bed.

"Will you be able to leave soon?"

"Tomorrow," he replied. "But no teaching for a week."

Hermione moaned, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

"Is Minerva really as dismal as you suggest?"

She nodded solemnly. "Mind, I'm a bit biased..."

Their conversation broke off as they shared a kiss that was made awkward by the strange angle of their heads. Hermione slid upwards so that it was slightly more even and was barely able to pull away in time to prevent Madam Pomfrey from seeing as she pushed her way in bearing another potion.

"Drink this."

Severus gulped it down, then gagged. "Disgusting."

"It's another one of yours," the nurse smirked. "Don't blame me."

Ignoring the last comment, he turned back to Hermione. "So tell me more about how Weasley and Malfoy have been in the same room without strangling each other."

"Which Weasley?"

*

"I know you'll think I'm completely crazy, but I think it's worth a try."

Remus met her gaze firmly, shaking his head as he sawed off a piece of steak. "I don't think it's crazy at all."

Agrippa furrowed her brow, ignoring the fact that her dinner was almost completely untouched. "Are you sure? I mean, if I'm going to be serious about this, it's going to mean losing my job security and the nice pay check that goes along with it."

He patted her hand and pushed the plate towards her. "You said that the time was right. You're ready for a change and if change means going back to university and becoming a lawyer, I can't see what's wrong with that."

"What about--"

"Hermione is more than old enough to take care of herself. In fact," he continued, holding up a hand to silence the protest, "I'm sure that she will more than survive on her own. Now eat."

*

"Mother," Severus greeted her, sitting up as Helena Snape entered the hospital wing.

"How would you feel if I started calling you 'son', rather than your name," she challenged him. "You haven't recognized me as your mother in years, so why so formal?"

He sighed heavily. "Helena, then."

"Yes, dear?"

"A few weeks ago you had a discussion of sorts with a student of mine."

"Come, now, Severus, we both know that she's much more than that. And yes, I did. So she told you, did she?"

"Yes, she did."

"And you want to tell me to stay the hell away from her, is that right?" Helena sneered. "It's hardly your decision to be making."

"That's what I want to say," he deliberated. "But instead I'm going to tell you to take care of her better than you would your own. I know how you treat your own."

"So you're letting her go?"

"Letting?" he repeated, astounded by her choice of wording. "As you said, it's hardly my decision. She isn't mine."

His mother only arched a brow in reply.

*

She was leaning against the bathroom stall, in the same position that she had been repeatedly in so many months ago.

I was better, she thought frantically, wrapping her arms around her form. How did this happen?

She spat out another mouthful of saliva, trying to eradicate the taste of bile from her mouth. It was the stress of last few weeks, that was all. Nothing to do with her, just a momentary lapse into old habits.

But how easy it was to do...