Chapter 22

Slowly, as if the world was being created through the eons, he became aware again. The bed under him was soaked, and he could hear Hermione softly calling to him.

“Severus, please wake up. Please come back to me,” she was pleading hoarsely.

He tried to pry his eyes open, but he felt the darkness overtake him again.

Harry, we need some help. You have to go to New Hogwarts and get Madam Pomfrey. Please, I don’t know what to do to help him.”

“What do you want me to tell her?”

“Tell her whatever you want—just bring her. She has known Severus since he was a child, and she has been there for him many times when he limped home from Voldemort’s meetings. She will know what to do. Just swear her to secrecy. Do you think you can get in and out without McGonagall noticing?”

“I can,” he said. He grabbed his cloak and headed at a run to the door. The door closed behind him, and Hermione heard the popping sound of Apparition.

“Severus,” she cried, “hang on. Just stay with me. I can’t live without you.”

*****

Harry slipped into the infirmary, and he was surprised to see it was nearly the same as the one at old Hogwarts. Auror training came in handy when sneaking into warded property. He ran to the end of the big room, knowing that Madam Pomfrey would have her rooms there. He banged on the door and it opened. “Yes, what is with all the racket? Has someone fallen off a broom?” She came face-to-face with him.

“Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?” she said with a look of surprise on her face.

“I need your help. He may be dying!”

“What’s wrong? Who’s dying?”

“Severus Snape. You need to get your bag and come with me.”

She was suddenly staring at him, and fear was etched on her face. “What are you talking about? Professor Snape’s dead. He’s been dead for several years. You must have hit your head or something. The war is over, Mr. Potter.”

Harry grabbed her arm and yelled, “I know it’s over, Poppy. I know this sounds crazy, but he didn’t die. He’s been hiding at the Hogwarts memorial. He’s there with Hermione Granger. They have been brewing a potion to help heal the wounds he received during the last battle.” He grabbed her bag and continued, “Hermione found him there about six weeks ago. Please, I’ll tell you the details later. He took the potion about two hours ago, and he’s not regaining consciousness. He is in extreme pain.”

“What color was the potion?” she asked, finally accepting his story and breaking into action.

“Clear violet.”

“Oh, my gosh.” She ran to a cabinet, unlocked it, and grabbed a bottle of inky black potion. “It’s the Dark Mark. It’s somehow created to resist “friendly” potions. Voldemort wanted to put his Death Eaters through more hell if they sought help from the good side at or after the final battle. I came across it several times trying to administer healing potions to those with near mortal wounds. Some of the first patients died.”

“Where are they?” she asked, drawing on her cloak.

“His quarters, I think, next to the Potions classroom.”

Much to Harry's suprise, she hopped onto a broom and flew out a window that opened for her. He ran to the window and saw her fly over the gate, then Apparation took her, and the broom dropped to the ground. Harry followed behind her.

Hermione was sitting on the bed now, holding him half across her lap with his back against her chest. She was crying and singing. His body was twitching as though a seizure was gripping him.

Pomfrey swept into the room and was shocked to see the long dead man hanging on the edge of a new death. She climbed into the big bed next to them, uncorked the bottle, forced his mouth open, and poured the liquid in.

Hermione looked into her face with hope. She saw Harry run into the room behind them. “Will he live?”

“I don’t know, Miss Granger. Can you lay him back onto the bed? I need to make a diagnosis.”

Hermione nodded and slipped out from under him. She did not leave his side, but lay down next to him, holding on to his hand.

Poppy watched with some surprise. Snape’s face, though tight with his illness and pain, looked better than she’d seen in years. Something amazing had happened to this man. She now saw Hermione plant a soft kiss on his lips and tell him she loved him.

Astonished, she turned her attention back to the patient and ran her wand over him, watching the color of her whispered spell change and dance.

Having seen this before and having used the potions and the antidote, she could tell where the injured parts had been, and she could see the changes in their auras as they slowly healed. She glanced again and again at Hermione, listening to her continuous declarations of love and all the things they had planned. She could feel Harry hovering behind her.

She finally said. “He is responding.” Her words made Hermione collapse with relief.

Harry came around and helped her off the bed. “Thank Merlin,” he said, settling the healer on her feet and letting the cold fear he’d felt dissipate.

*****

Severus felt the blackness start to dissipate again. He heard a new voice, a voice from his past, and he wondered where he would find himself when he opened his eyes. With some relief, his own bed-curtains came into view. Then Hermione’s tear-stained face swung in front of him.

“Severus? Can you hear me?” she whispered soothingly.

He managed to smile a bit at her and heard her relief as she cried with fresh tears of joy.

Her forehead pressed against his, and she kissed him ever so gently. He managed to move his hand, burying it into her hair and deepening the kiss.

Harry was laughing with relief at Poppy’s incredulous expression. “It will take some explaining.”

“I look forward to the story,” she said. “Now, might I have some tea? You yanked me away from my midday meal.”

Harry nodded and gestured for her to come sit at the table. He drew the curtain closed on the bed to give Snape and Hermione some privacy as the man continued to recover.

****

Many thanks to Lisa, my Beta, and the TPP ladies. You do an awesome job.