Chapter 4

***

Part IV

***

June

It had been three weeks since their – well, Hermione wasn't sure what to call it. It hadn't really been an agreement, since she hadn't agreed to much, and it certainly wasn't a truce. When Harry and Ron were around, Snape was as prickly and unforgiving as always. She was almost happy to hear the vitriol in his voice. If he didn't sound defeated, she reasoned, then he wasn't. Not yet.

Interestingly enough, in the short time they had been working together, he had grown, if not quite companionable, then a lot less condescending toward her. Even though, as usual, every other word out of his mouth was a thinly veiled insult or threat, she could tell that when they were directed at Ron or Harry, they sounded contemptuous, but when directed at her, they were tame, almost humorous. She never thought she'd have one day found Severus Snape amusing. He even complimented her work a few times, when he was too caught up in the complexities of what they were doing to watch what he was saying carefully enough. The work seemed to be good for him – he had only had, on average, two or three fits a week, although they were gradually increasing in intensity. Sadly, although they had been working on alternative potions all this time, they had yet to come up with a reliable substitute that had any sort of positive effect on Severus' condition.

"What we need," she growled for the millionth time that week, "is a sample of Nagini's venom! If we only had that –"

"–we could create a synthetic version, yes, I know, Miss Granger," he snapped back distractedly. "Now hold still – this portion of the spell is very tricky."

She froze in place obediently, wand pointed at a 90-degree angle to the cauldron. Severus moved about her counter-clockwise, sweat filming on his sallow brow. "Concentrate ... now!" As he reached the point in the circle exactly opposite hers, they both chanted the words of one of the transformative spells. A minute later, their potion turned from a clear, crystalline blue to a sickly, murky green. With a burp, the liquid congealed.

Severus sighed. It had been worth a try – he and Miss Granger had been reading up on magical transformations of common snake venoms, in the hopes that by forcing the snake to grow to a size comparable to that of Nagini magically, its venom's potency would also grow, and could be altered to make a reasonably close substitution for the antivenin his body so desperately craved. But according to their configurations, the potion should have merely turned purple, not formed this ... grayish green gunge. Lowering his wand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic – a most un-Professorial behavior, but it was so blasted hot in their brewing room all the time that they had quickly exhausted their supplies of towels, and neither one of them could afford to spare the moment's concentration it would take to charm themselves or the towels dry.

"Merlin's great hairy –"

"Miss Granger!" Severus exclaimed in surprise. He'd never heard her utter so much as a whispered "Damn" when their potions backfired. "I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in this laboratory, dreadfully hot as it may be."

"Sorry, sir," Hermione muttered, smirking at the almost-smile that that 'slip of the tongue' had wrested from Severus. Once or twice, she had actually seen him grin, usually when he thought the potion was proceeding better than they had hoped. It was amazing how it changed the landscape of his face, she reflected. If he would keep his hair tied back like this more often, and smile, he could almost be considered handsome. Almost. She poked at the pea soup in the cauldron with the tip of her wand, rather disappointed, and with a quick charm, the ruined potion vanished.

"What do you suppose went wrong?" she asked, looking for as dry a towel as she could find to clean off her face. Finding none, she pulled her hair up into a loose knot at the back of her neck, fanning her face with one of her parchments.

"This time, you mean," Severus clarified, moving toward their stacks of notes. "I would imagine it's the same problem we've had every single time. No snake venom we can find, create, or alter can replace Nagini's."

"Yes, yes, I know, but why?" she asked impatiently. Surely something they'd tried so far should have worked. Magically enlarged poisonous vipers, venom extracted from common snakes and then charmed, transfigured, diluted, concentrated. They'd even tried to recreate a Nagini of sorts by both charming and transfiguring the snakes themselves, but to no avail. All of their subjects had sadly perished. Not even Harry could wheedle any information out of the snakes. They had no idea how the Snake Lord had created Queen Death, as they called her. Whatever Voldemort had done, it was something only he had known how to do. "If only we had some sort of snake her size to work with. Maybe then –"

"Miss Granger, we've been over that territory before," Severus rebutted. "Remember? We grew snakes to her size magically – their venom remained at its original potency. All that changed was the snake's physical dimensions."

"No, I meant one already her size to begin with," Hermione panted, sweat running in lines from her temples down her neck to pool at her collarbones. "Not one we've already magically treated."

"And where do you propose we find such a specimen?" Severus challenged, equally out of breath.

Hermione grunted as she sat down on the lone chair in the room. Harry had, of course, immediately cleared out one of the studies to make a laboratory for Snape the minute the two of them requested it, but it was woefully bare and, being on the top floor, was incredibly hot, despite the open windows. Sadly, cooling charms interfered with the complicated dual spells they had to cast on some of the potions, and so they had, after one incredibly short day, come to terms with more ... informal ... clothing. The girl pushed up the sleeves of her thin shirt, responding, "How would I know? I've learned more about ruddy snakes than I ever dreamt was possible in the last three weeks, but neither you nor I have ever come across any mention of a snake the size of Nagini, and you know that."

"Then why, Miss Granger, did you bring it up –"

"Because it's the only thing I can think of," Hermione exploded. "Short of somehow sucking a sample of Nagini's venom from your very flesh, I don't see how else to fix these calculations."

Severus paused for a moment. Could the girl be correct? Is it possible that somehow they could take his blood or tissue and extract the venom, or at least the venom's unique magical characteristics? Hermione noticed the older man had stilled.

"S-sir," she said, "what is it? You're on to something, aren't you?"

"Miss Granger, clear a workspace. We have some work to do," he answered distantly. Perhaps – if they just used a simple separation charm ... Hurriedly, he filled Hermione in on his thoughts. Hunched over the worktable, the two of them hastily worked out calculation after Arithmantic calculation. After about an hour of serious discussion and debate, Severus stood, his back cracking in the process. Stifling a yawn, he walked over to the chair and sat down. Rolling up his sleeve, he beckoned her over.

"Miss Granger," he said, "I don't suppose you have ever witnessed Madam Pomfrey taking a blood sample from a student for tests?"

"N-no, actually, I haven't," Hermione answered. "I've seen it done loads of times the Muggle way, but never through magic. Madam Pomfrey seemed always to use diagnostic spells and the like."

"You're correct," the man continued. "Magical medicine rarely involves actual use of the bodily fluids or tissues. Most, if not all, conditions can be cured either through spells or potions. Muggle extremes, like surgery and the like, are considered barbaric." Fixing his sleeve above his elbow, he held his arm out. "That doesn't mean it isn't done, though. The spell to withdraw blood from a body is Extraho Sanguine. You point your wand here –" he pointed her wand's tip at his largest vein, "–and then to one of those empty vials. When it is full, you merely remove your wand from my arm, as though you were withdrawing the needle. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said in a subdued voice.

"Alright then, Miss Granger," he whispered, steeling himself. "You may proceed."

With the whispered spell, she transferred his blood into the vial; a flick of the wrist later, and the procedure was done.

"What do we do now, sir?" she asked, staring at his blood as though she had expected it to change color. He rolled his eyes, glad for once not to be in the younger woman's line of vision.

"What do you think, Miss Granger?" he inquired blandly, reaffixing his sleeve at his wrist.

She blushed, brushing tendrils of damp hair away from her face. "I mean, I would assume, sir, that we would divide up the sample so that we'd have enough for several tests." At his affirmative nod, she waved her wand, and soon five smaller vials stood before them. "But – now what? How do we try to extract the venom?"

"You must understand, Miss Granger, that I'm not entirely sure it can be done just from blood alone. But, since I had taken not only a blood replenisher but a coagulant, it would seem as though Nagini's venom was trapped in my body, both in my flesh and in the new blood that formed. So there is a chance, at least, that some of it is still carried in that manner. Now, as for how to separate it. I think our best chance is with this."

At that, he pointed with his wand to the last of their calculations. "This allows for the separation of the magical and non-magical elements of a substance. If, as we think, Nagini's venom is entirely magical, then the spell should pull it out of my blood, which is of course a natural substance. Do you feel that you are able to cast the spell without blowing us up?" he asked, a bit testily. The spell had left him a bit light-headed, and given that that most likely meant a seizure later, he was understandably a bit cantankerous.

Reviewing their calculations, Hermione nodded. "Yes, it seems fairly straightforward to me. The spell is a basic one, and the wand movements aren't so complicated. But it's best that I try it first. You look a bit peaky, sir – would you like some tea, or some biscuits?"

Severus, weary, only nodded. Seems the younger woman was more and more able to see through his pretenses these days, although that was only likely, given their close quarters. He gratefully dug in to the plate of chocolate biscuits and mug of Earl Grey – his favorite – that suddenly appeared next to his chair.

A minute later, Hermione performed the spell. The vial she targeted hovered above the table, its contents roiling. Soon, the vial itself shattered, but the blood itself remained suspended in mid-air, bubbling inside a transparent globe of magic. Seconds later, the ball of liquid shuddered and heaved, splitting apart. Half of it remained red, drifting to the right, while a silver substance streamed to the left.

"Quick, Severus – another vial!" Hermione shouted, all her concentration focused on maintaining the spell.

Severus rushed over to the table, grabbing two clean vials from the collection, barely registering Hermione's use of his given name. Carefully, without touching the globe with any part of his flesh, he set each vial directly underneath each substance. Slowly, Hermione aimed her wand downward until the liquids were hovering just above the containers. Sweat ran down her neck, disappearing into the vee of her simple shirt, but she didn't dare break her concentration to wipe it away. With an anxious command from Severus, she completed the spell. The globe shimmered and split, funneling the two fluids into their respective vials, and then without a sound it disappeared.

Exhausted, the two sagged to the floor. "Did we – did it work?" Hermione asked, gulping for air.

"We won't know until we try, Miss Granger," her former professor murmured, wiping his face on his sleeve yet again. Suddenly seeming to realize how unsightly he must seem sprawled on the floor, limbs akimbo, he pulled himself to his feet, immediately straightening his clothes. Hermione wearily gave a half-smile at his endeavours, noticing that even Severus Snape's sense of propriety did not extend to buttoning his white collared shirt all the way to the top, not in this heat. In the back of her mind, she realized that his choice of colors didn't surprise her anymore. In fact, white was rather well-suited to him, in a strange sort of way. Much less gloomy than his usual school robes. Not that she planned to tell him that, though. They'd been getting on fairly well, but somehow she sensed that he would consider such a personal remark grossly impertinent.

"Unless you have suddenly come up with a way to test the venom from the floor, Miss Granger, perhaps you would deign to join me at the table ..." Severus drawled, scowling down at her.

Stifling the urge to tell him she had learned to brew with her toes, Hermione picked herself up with a sigh and went back to work.

***

Two Weeks Later

***

"Now, sir, your last seizure was when?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm reasonably certain that you are as familiar with the timing of my ... episodes ... as I, Miss Granger," Severus responded blandly.

The younger woman sighed. Of course she was, but she needed to make sure that he was as well, just in case the unthinkable should have happened and he had had a seizure in one of those rare moments when one of the three of them wasn't with him. "Just answer the question, sir," she sighed.

For a moment it looked as though he was going to reply with something nasty, but instead he simply answered, "Six days ago."

"And what is the greatest length of time that you have gone without a seizure since you – since the incident?" she continued, checking her notes.

"Six days," he replied. This last stretch of time had been, to Severus, a strange mixture of calmness and anticipation. He felt thin, stretched, like at any moment he might fall to the floor in another fit, but yet his confidence in his own abilities, and although he was loathe to admit it, in Miss Granger's, led him to think that perhaps they had come up with, if not a cure, then at least a treatment.

After they had successfully extracted some of Nagini's venom from Severus' blood last week, they had immediately set to work determining what they could and could not do with the sample. At first, Hermione had boldly suggested that if they could remove the venom from that particular sample, perhaps they could remove all of the remaining venom from his entire body, thus rendering the need for treatment moot. But Severus had quickly shown her the error of that line of thinking, for it would not only require the removal of all of his blood, which would of course leave him dead, but it would also not be enough to remove the venom from his tissue and bone.

Discouraged, Hermione threw out idea after idea, only to have them rejected by her former professor. Strangely, though, she got the feeling that he wasn't being deliberately antagonistic as much as he was trying to get her to think through a particularly difficult problem. Finally, she asked him if the sample could be duplicated or magically recreated.

Caught off guard, he questioned her line of thinking, but when she explained that being able to reproduce the venom would save them from having to weaken him through constant bloodletting, she could have sworn she saw a look of sheer admiration in his eye before he nodded and looked away.

Once it was determined that they could, in very small amounts, duplicate the venom, they set about brewing yet another antivenin potion. The first tiny batch had been completed six days ago, at which point a rather shaky Severus Snape consumed it. They both knew that if they had at any moment during the completion of this potion made the tiniest of errors, the reintroduction of Nagini's venom to his body could well prove fatal. But luck had been with them, and six days later, Severus was still seizure-free. It was, of course, too early to tell if they had created an antidote or merely a form of treatment, but so far, the future was looking bright.

Since they had begun working on this particular approach to his treatment, she was struck one day by the amount of silence that pervaded their laboratory. Their initial partnership had been filled with snarky quips from Snape and hushed apologies from Hermione, but had gradually faded into something akin to conversation. Now, though, they had become accustomed to each other's work habits and patterns, and found that there was little need anymore for idle chatter. Instead, they worked together quietly, but amicably. All in all, she thought, it was turning out to be a rather pleasant sort of environment. Peaceful.

"May I," Severus spoke suddenly, fingers fidgeting at the ends of his sleeves, "thank you for your ... assistance ... by procuring for us a bottle of wine this evening?"

Hermione was dumbstruck. S-Snape? Wine? What on earth ... "You're not feeling poorly, are you, sir? Do you have a headache?"

He sniffed, pulling his hands into his sleeves and crossing his arms. "Very well. I can see that my gesture of gratitude was unnecessary –"

"No, sir, I just ..." her voice trailed off. "I just hadn't expected it, that's all." Sitting up primly in her chair, she looked him in his eyes and said, "That would be lovely. But – I can go for it, seeing as how you're –"

His black eyes darkened before he turned away, dark hair falling softly about his hollow cheeks. "Still here. Yes. In fact, I had thought that you might be able to ... go for it, as you said."

"I don't understand, sir," she asked. But instead of answering, he stood swiftly and took her by the hand.

"Trust me, Miss Granger," he said, and the world went black.