From the Ashes

It took Albus what little remained of that night to reach Andrene Christie. The Firewalker had been away from home dealing with another emergency. Tired as she was, Andrene took one look into the worried face that hovered in her hearth and promised to come through immediately. When Albus and Andrene reached the corridor outside the Potion master's study, they were greeted by the weary faces of Harry, Ron, and Minerva who stood, hovering, near the open door.

"I thought I told you all to get some sleep," Albus said, giving them a pointed look.

"I did catch a few hours," Minerva groused, "and so did the boys, but you can't blame us for being worried, Headmaster."

"I suppose not...I suppose not," he said, shaking his head. "Now, let us clear out of the way and let Madam Christie see what the matter is."

The young men scrambled away from the door as Minerva stepped gracefully to the side. Staying outside the wards for the moment, Andrene looked inside. At some point during the night, Hermione had flung herself off the sofa. She knelt on the floor, motionless, her eyes open and staring at the hearthrug.

Turning to Albus, Andrene said softly, "What happened to her?"

"We don't know exactly, Madam Christy. As you can imagine, things happened in the battle very quickly. I do know that she planned to use fear as her projection. It was only marginally successful. At some point she must have decided to change horses because she switched to sadness. That emotion had great effect on our enemy and allowed us to win the day. However, when it was all over, Miss Granger seemed to be stuck in her projection. I had hoped that placing her here in this familiar and warded room might help her return to us, but it has had no effect."

With a heavy sigh, Andrene looked at the hopeful faces that regarded her. "I will do my best, that is for certain, but I cannot be making you nary a promise. I have only seen one Empath in such a state and dat one did never recover." That said, Andrene turned from the worried faces of Hermione's friends and stepped into the room.

Even with her protective wall at full power, Andrene staggered as she was hit with the force of Hermione's projection. Hermione's sorrow had spiraled into a whirlwind of bare emotion. Like a ravaging beast, it tore into Andrene's protections as if they were tissue paper. Barely able to remain on her feet, Andrene searched under the sadness, hunting for the underlying cause of her student's distress. There it was...whispering under the maelstrom...grief, pain, loss.

"The poor girl..." Andrene muttered, "she's lost her winjy man for certain. So hard a ting it is for an Empath to love so strong..."

Stumbling, blinded by her own tears, Andrene retreated from the study and leaned heavily against the corridor wall while she tried to get her emotions back under control. After a moment, she turned wet eyes toward the Headmaster.

"It is too late...I can do nothing for her. Cha! It's fuckery! Pure fuckery for certain! The girl loves a duppy an' you bubus lock her in a bone yard! I thought you were a ranking man, but this is a dread position you put the girl in!"

Taking her firmly by the shoulders, Albus gave Andrene a gentle shake. "Andrene! I don't understand you...speak plainly!"

Taking a deep breath, Andrene calmed herself enough to use her 'tourist English'. "She grieves for her man. Her man is dead and you locked her in her dead mate's room."

"Severus?" Albus said, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "But Andrene, Severus isn't dead."

"Are you for certain? Miss Hermione is convinced he is...only his loss could affect her so."

"I'm very certain. I checked him myself right after our enemy fell. Something had knocked him unconscious, but he isn't even very hurt. In fact, he's upstairs in the infirmary with the other people who needed little more than rest."

A reluctant hope lit the Firewalker's eyes. "You'd best take me to him."

********************************

He woke slowly, dragged into consciousness by a hand that shook his shoulder, a voice that called his name. Opening his eyes reluctantly, it took him a blinking moment to realize that it was Albus Dumbledore's face which stared into his own. When he spoke, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Albus...are you dead too?"

"It seems, Severus, that rumors of your death have been widely exaggerated. Why is it, my boy, that you think you should be dead?"

"Avada Kedavra," Severus mumbled, "he hit me with an Avada Kedavra."

"Surely not! You wouldn't be here if he had. I assure you, dear boy, you are very much alive."

Sitting up with some difficulty, Severus unbuttoned the front of his crumpled linen shirt far enough to bare his left shoulder. The jagged cut of a curse scar was clearly visible against his bare skin. Starring at it for an astonished moment, Severus then looked back to Albus and said quite clearly, "Yppotryll tusk!"

"As you have often reminded me, I am not a Potions master. In English, my boy, if you please..."

"We used Yppotryll tusk in the blocking potion...it has some strong curse blocking abilities...not normally strong enough to block an Unforgivable..." Severus' voice trailed off.

"But combined with the fact that the curse just clipped you, I suppose it was enough," Albus concluded.

"Either that or the blocking potion strengthened it somehow..."

Albus could practically see the wheels start to turn in his Potion master's head. "Think about it later, we've got a problem."

At last fully awake, Severus made a quick survey of the sea of faces before him. He sat straight up in the bed as he demanded, "Where is Hermione?"

Stepping forward, Andrene took one of Severus' hands in both of her own as she sat on the edge of his bed. "Calm down an' listen to me, there is nuh much time. Your girl thought she saw you die. She used her grief to attack your downpressors but now it eats at her. That grief be all she knows, an' if you can't manage to get through to her she will be lost to us for certain."

"Can you not help her, Madam Christie?" Severus whispered.

"Would that I could...but even my protection be no match for your girl's pain. She be in your study, I didn't last two minutes before her grief drove me out. Dumbledore said you had a potion but it's all used up. How long does it take to make?"

"Too long...too blasted long," Severus said. With that, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard.

When a few moments had passed with no reaction from his Potions master, Albus feared the boy had given up. Hesitantly, he began to address him, "Severus, my boy..."

"Silence!" Severus spat, practically shouting in the quiet infirmary.

Andrene, Minerva, and the boys seemed both shocked and puzzled by Severus' outburst. Albus realized that Severus was far from giving up; he was obviously thinking furiously. A hopeful gleam sprang to life in the Headmaster's eyes.

As suddenly as his silence had begun, it abruptly ended. Sitting up again, Severus opened his eyes. His expression had changed from one of worry to a look of fierce determination. "Turpin!"

A here before unnoticed lump under the coverlet at the foot of Severus' cot squirmed into sudden movement. Tunneling out into the light, Richard "Dick" Turpin sprang onto Severus' lap with a gleeful shout of "Syphilis!" Resting his front paws against Severus' chest so that he could briefly touch his master's chin with a whiskery nose, he said "I told you that you were too mean to die, you bloody wanker!"

"Indeed you did, Turpin. Indeed you did. Want to come help me rescue a damsel in distress?"

"We're going to save the vixen?"

"Yes, we're going to save the vixen," Severus said with a conviction that could not be denied.

It later mortified Severus that his body did not yet have the strength of his convictions. He was forced to accept the aid of both Ron and Harry in order to make it down to the dungeons. In later years, they teased him about this unmercifully, but only after they had graduated and only when Hermione was around to stay the furious man's wand arm. Severus didn't waste time explaining what he intended to do; he needed to save his breath for the stairs. Noting this, Albus brushed off any attempt of the others to get the wheezing Snape to speak. When the group reached the open door of the study, Severus spoke haltingly to Turpin as he tried to catch his breath.

"Near the hearth. Crate of phials. Some are empty. Grab any of the full ones. Bring it to me."

Rushing as fast as his short legs would carry him, Turpin ran into the study. The animal was obviously unaffected by Hermione's projection. In a thrice he returned, a stoppered phial held carefully in his teeth.

"The Balm of Gilead," Severus muttered as he studied the phial. "You did well Turpin." Turning to Albus, Severus took a short time to explain. "It's one of our failed trials...it will give me thirty minutes before it wears off...that should be long enough..."

"What do you mean to do, Severus?" Minerva asked, her voice thick with both worry and hope.

Unstoppering the phial, Severus drained it in one swallow. As he waited for it to take effect, he answered Minerva's question. "We based the blocking potion on the the Redactum Maeror; the potion St. Mungo's uses to dampen grief. I still have a full measure in my potions cabinet." Stepping resolutely into the study, Severus turned back to say one last thing. "This may take some time and I will not have us gawked at. Albus, I trust you'll see that this door remains closed until I open it myself." With that, he shut the door on their muffled protests.

The sight of his Hermione kneeling so pale and unmoving distracted Severus for a moment. Resolutely making his way toward his personal potions cabinet, Severus was frustrated by the weakness of his body. Certainly he was alive, and the exhaustion he was experiencing was a small price to pay. However, if he did not manage to break Hermione out of her emotional prison, he may as well not live at all. Hermione was his heart, and the man who once thought he had no heart had decided he would never try to exist without one again. Reaching the cabinet, Severus quickly found the phial of the precious Redactum Maeror. Cradling it carefully, he stumbled over to Hermione and knelt beside her. It took some careful work to get Hermione's mouth open, to pour the fluid in, and to insure that she swallowed it. The seconds he waited to let it take effect seemed like an eternity. At last, Severus noticed some softening in her expression. The brows which had been drawn together smoothed a fraction; the lips which had been tightly pressed together began to relax. Taking a firm hold on her upper arms, Severus shook her gently.

"Hermione!" he called. "I'm here, love. I'm here. I haven't left you...I will never leave you. I'm here, Hermione. I'm fine. I'm here. Come back to me, vixen. Don't you dare leave me alone...do you here me? Don't you leave me!" His voice broke at the last, wavering with a fear greater than he had ever known. But what was this? Did she stir?

Sunk deeply in pain and despair, at first Hermione resisted the almost angry voice which broke into her solitude. Yet there was something in that demanding tone, something familiar, something longed for. Abruptly, Hermione began to fight to regain her senses. That voice! That growling, insistent, beloved voice! Brown eyes snapped open in shock.

"Severus!" she practically shrieked. Her hands flew to his neck, his hair, his face. They busied themselves with the familiar feel of his flesh, as if by touch alone she could prove that he was real. It wasn't enough. A primal urge overtook her, demanding proof of life, proof of love. Hermione threw herself at him, and--in his weakened state--she knocked him flat on his back and came to rest atop him. Far from complaining at her rough treatment of his person, Severus wound his hands happily in her riot of hair and dragged her mouth to meet his own. They murmured words to each other that they later could not recall, but it mattered not. They were alive. Love was alive.

Eventually caresses were not enough. Impatient--and half mad with relief and desire--Hermione pulled away long enough to unbutton Severus' trousers and release his hard length. Pulling up the skirt of the school uniform she still wore, Hermione simply dragged her knickers to one side before sliding down on his shaft. This was life! This was undeniable proof that neither her body, her heart, nor her mind could ignore. Her man was very much alive and he loved her!

Their coupling was fast and furious, because of it. She rode him hard while she called his name over and over. It wasn't long before she could feel him pulsing deep within her and her joy at that twitching response sent her into her own release. Collapsing over him, it took Hermione some time to catch her breath. When she at last rose a bit to look at Severus, she was shocked to see his eyes closed, his face unresponsive.

"Severus? Oh my god...you were alive and I've killed you!"

In due course Hermione realized that her love still breathed, his heart still pounded in time to her own, he was simply unconscious. Assuming that while he wasn't dead, he probably should be taken to the infirmary, Hermione carefully disengaged herself from a man who lay dead to the world, yet with the slightest of smiles gracing his face. When Hermione pulled away and went to tuck Severus back into his trousers--He'll never forgive me if I let anyone see him like this!...she noticed the obvious proof of what they'd been up to. Indeed, the front of Severus' trousers had a wet stain that was already drying slightly white around the edges. Hermione wasn't truly worried about this until she reached for a wand that was not in its usual place. When she realized that Severus was also without his wand, she knew there was nothing for it. If anyone was crass enough to mention the tell-tale stain, she would look them square in the eye and say she didn't know what they were talking about. But first she had to get him to the infirmary.

Opening the door that led to the corridor, Hermione's search for help was cut abruptly short when she came face to face with the group waiting for word. Though all were glad to see her once more herself, Harry and Ron refused to meet her eye, Professor McGonagall was blushing furiously, and Andrene was outright chuckling with glee. Only the face of Albus held any composure whatsoever, so Hermione turned to him and stammered out a plea to get Professor Snape to the Hospital Wing.

"Certainly, my dear, certainly," said the Headmaster, nodding sagely. "I expect our Professor Snape wasn't quite up to the strain of...helping you, having just left the infirmary himself. Leave him to me, my dear. You go on up to the Hospital Wing and I'll bring him up to you."

Turning away from the clear amusement in her Headmaster's eyes, Hermione fled the dungeons and hurried to the infirmary. When Dumbledore soon followed, a levitated Severus Snape in his wake, Hermione was relieved to see the front of Severus' trousers had been returned to a more suitable state. However, she wasn't sure how she would be able to look her Headmaster in the eye ever again.

After Madam Pomfrey had examined both Severus and Hermione and announced that all either of them needed was some rest and quiet, Hermione waited until all the visitors had left the infirmary before she snuck into Severus' bed and wrapped him in her arms.

He woke briefly, murmuring, "...Hermione?"

"Hush, love. I'm here. Rest now...I'll be here when you wake."

Severus Snape slipped back into sleep, a pleased smile curling his lips.