Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Snape perused the notes as he considered his situation. He had temporarily traded one prison for another, though he had to admit this one was more pleasant. He had his own room, with a real bed and bath, clean clothes and presumably decent food. At the end of this project, he would win his freedom, though he wasn't sure what that meant. He was sure the wizarding world still reviled him for his role in Dumbledore's death – the foolish old man hadn't even left a record of the plan, sentencing him to a fate worse than death – and his vault had been confiscated for reparations. That left him with nothing and no job prospects.

It suddenly occurred to him that while the document assured his freedom, there was one thing it did not ensure. As he finished his review of the notes, he closed the books and turned to face Hermione. "I have several theories, but there is one more thing I require."

"You aren't in a position to bargain," she replied sternly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"But you see, I am. I may be the only one who can brew an antidote. I want assurances my wand will be returned to me," he stated bluntly.

"You have been given your freedom."

He crossed his arms, signaling his unwillingness to budge. "But what is freedom to a wizard without a wand? My price for my cooperation is my wand when this is over. With that, I will have my status as a full wizard reinstated. Without it, I will be every bit as much a prisoner as I was at Azkaban." While he knew about the Muggle world and probably could have lived within it, that was not what he wanted, that was not who he was.

"Fine. Start work and I'll owl the Minister," she relented.

He knew that starting work without the assurances was a risk, but one he had to take. Some of the steps to the antidotes he had in mind were time consuming. Getting the Minister's approval might take hours, hours that might make the difference between life and death for the patients he was trying to save. Hours that could make the difference between freedom and life in Azkaban for him.

When Hermione left the lab, he inventoried the ingredients in the laboratory and made a list of the ones he would need that were not stocked. Some were exotic and some were controlled, but he had no doubt that Hermione would have no trouble procuring them. He still found it odd that she, of all people, had been placed in charge of this project, but thinking back to the student she had been at Hogwarts, he had to acknowledge her brilliance, no matter how deeply that acknowledgement bit. After all, she had saved Longbottom's potion on more than one occasion, and only someone with a deeply intuitive grasp of potions could have done that.

She returned and began to hover again as he prepared the various bases he thought might be useful. He tried not to get annoyed by her behavior because he knew that she did not trust him. As he considered this, he had a stroke of brilliance. If he could get her to trust him, to be an advocate for him, it might prove useful. After all, she was like a daughter to the Minister and a sister to St. Harry Potter. But he couldn't be too obvious about it because she would become suspicious if he changed his personality too much.

"I should hear back from the Minister in a few hours," she replied matter of factly when he looked up from his work.

"Thank you." Handing her the list, he said, "These are some supplies that I require. I know that some of them may be difficult to obtain..." He let his voice trail off.

She took the list and read through it quickly. "I can get them. Just a reminder, this place is warded. You can't get out."

"That is not my intention. I have agreed to work on the antidote, and that is what I will do. Whatever you may think of me, I am a man of my word." Foolish old man, he said bitterly to himself as he thought of his promise to Dumbledore. It was because he was a man of his word that Dumbledore was dead. He had been willing to forfeit his life so that Dumbledore would have lived, but the old headmaster had insisted that Severus's life was more valuable. And what had keeping his word gotten him? A life sentence to Azkaban Prison, that's what.

She eyed him skeptically before departing.

While she was gone, he finished the bases and began outlining theories for several different potions. Normally he would have demanded to see the patients, but he knew that access to them would be limited. At least Hermione's notes had been extremely detailed and comprehensive. He wasn't sure exactly who had brewed this potion, but he was incredibly relieved it was not one of his own creation. He was sure that fact would make returning his wand more palatable to the Minister. He had a few theories about who might have brewed the poison. Unfortunately, none of those he suspected were alive, so it was likely to remain a mystery.

After almost four hours, Hermione returned. In that time Severus had gotten the potions to states where he needed the ingredients he had sent her to get. He had then explored his new prison. There were two bedrooms – he supposed the second was for her – and a reasonably well stocked kitchen along with a main room that served as both the living and dining areas. He made a sandwich while waiting for her, not wanting to get involved in cooking a meal since he had no idea how much time he had before her return.

"That's everything," she said as she set several bags down on the table.

Leaning over, he casually rifled through them for a few moments. "You've done an excellent job." He picked up the bags and took them to the laboratory. Unsurprisingly, she followed him. "If you wouldn't mind, I could use some assistance."

"You?" she asked skeptically.

"As you said, time is of the essence, and as I do not know the exact composition of the poison, I have a number of possible antidotes to prepare. I have written instructions for several of them in case you would be willing to assist."

She stood rooted to the spot, dumfounded.

"Miss Granger?" he asked cautiously.

Finally recovered from the shock, she replied, "Of course. Where would you like me to start?"

He pointed at the right side of the workbench. "You may begin with that one. I believe the instructions are quite clear, but if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask. We cannot afford to make mistakes."

---

As Hermione set about the task he had assigned her, she started wondering about Snape. Since he had accepted the pardon, he had not acted like the Snape she recalled. He seemed quite human, unlike the great bat of the dungeon. It was reasonable to expect his stay in Azkaban to have changed him, and he had been every bit as rude as she had expected on her first visit, but the man working beside her? He seemed like someone else all together.

While stirring the cauldron the requisite amount of time, she considered that she had only known Snape as a teacher. The other teachers hadn't seemed to hate him, and she did recall Harry telling her about Dumbledore defending Snape, not to mention Remus had encouraged them to trust Snape. It was possible that Snape outside the classroom was a different person. And he had always been quite polite towards the Slytherins, so it wasn't as though he couldn't be nice.

She ran out of time to consider the complexities of Severus Snape as the potion she was making required all her attention. She lost complete track of time as she moved between the different cauldrons and assisted Snape as he required it. From time to time he would look over her shoulder to check her work and ask if she had any questions. Not once was he rude and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him give her an approving nod.

As she finished the twelfth step of the third potion, he said, "I believe the potions can sit for a few hours. The rest would do us both much good."

She looked at her watch and saw that it was nearly half past three in the morning, and she suddenly felt the weariness of a long day of work wash over her. "Are you sure? I can still work," she said through a stifled yawn.

"Miss Granger, we absolutely cannot afford any mistakes. There is plenty of time to finish the potions even if we take a few hours rest."

"I suppose you're right. Seven o'clock?" She placed her hand over her mouth as she yawned again.

"Eight would be better. And I think we should also eat something before bed to ensure a restful slumber." He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the laboratory.

As she slid into one of the chairs at the table in the little kitchen, she noticed a letter on the table, addressed to her. Opening it, she saw that Arthur had agreed that Snape would have his wand returned to him if he succeeded. She knew how much this would probably cost him politically, but hopefully, saving all those people would help everyone forget about Snape. "Minister Weasley has agreed you can have your wand back," she said as he placed a sandwich before her and then sat down across from her.

"That is most wise," he replied, feeling a small measure of relief. Now all he had to do was successfully counteract the poison.

After taking a couple of bites, she asked, "Do you really think you can save them?"

"Without knowing the exact composition of the poison or who brewed it, I cannot say for certain. I am doing my best."

"Did You-Know-Who have many other potion brewers?" she asked.

"A few that I knew of. There could be more about whom I did not know. While he trusted me, he trusted no one completely." That was the simple truth. Noticing she had finished eating, he said, "I know that you have many questions, but perhaps those can wait until later. It is most important that we rest. I apologize for leaving the dishes to you."

"What? Oh." She lazily waved her wand and the dishes flew to the sink where they cleaned themselves and then stacked themselves in the cupboard. "I understand. Well, goodnight," she said as they departed to their own rooms. Once in her room, she kicked off her shoes, flopped on her bed and had a moment to wonder why she had wished him goodnight before sleep overtook her.

---

Severus was awake earlier than planned and was eager to resume his work. While he did not relish the idea of disturbing Hermione from her much needed rest, he knew that she would be upset if went to work without her. Besides, he really did need her assistance. There was just far too much work for him to complete it by himself in time. Entering her room, he quietly moved to her bedside and gently shook her shoulder. "Miss Granger." When she did nothing more than moan softly, he shook a little harder and said a little louder, "Miss Granger."

Her sole reaction was to pull the pillow over her head.

Removing the pillow, he said sharply, "Hermione!"

She sat up abruptly, hitting Severus's forehead with hers. He rubbed the spot, trying to ease the pain.

"Ow! What is it?" she asked crossly, also rubbing her forehead.

"Forgive me for waking you, but it is time to get back to work." He observed her for a few seconds. If he had thought her hair was normally bushy, it was positively wild now. It was slightly flattened on the left said where she had been laying and the back stuck up rather more than usual leaving her looking like a deranged poodle, and he fought hard not to laugh.

"What? Work? Oh! Right, right. I need a few minutes to shower and grab something to eat. Meet you in the lab in fifteen minutes?"

Relieved that her brain seemed to be regaining function, he replied, "I have already seen to my needs and will resume my work." Not long after he left her room, he could hear the shower running. To expedite her arrival in the laboratory, he placed some fruit, cereal, the milk pitcher and a mug of coffee on the table for her. He also considered that this small act of kindness would help improve her opinion of him. He then retired to the lab to continue his potions' brewing.

---

As Hermione stood under the shower, she tried to clear her mind, knowing that she would need all of her concentration to work on the potions. Brewing one potion at a time was difficult, but working on three simultaneously was nearly impossible. As she washed her hair, she considered Snape. He had been polite, courteous and even complimentary. She wondered what it meant, or what he might be up to.

But what would he gain from being nice to her? Nothing. If he cured the patients, he was assured his freedom and his wand. Was it possible he was capable of being nice when there was nothing to be gained? And he had used her first name. She actually liked the way it sounded.

"Quit thinking about him," she chided. The last thing she needed right now was the distraction that trying to figure out Severus Snape.

After rinsing the last of the soap off her body, she quickly dried and dressed, pulling her hair into a ponytail so that she wouldn't have to deal with it or have it in her way. When she walked through the kitchen, she saw her breakfast laid out on the table and stopped dead in her tracks. Her first thought was that she obviously did not know the real Severus Snape and that perhaps he would be worth getting to know.

She ate her breakfast quickly and cleaned up the dishes. When she walked into the laboratory, he was hunched over one of the cauldrons. She began organizing her work area while keeping an eye on him to see when he finished the step of his potion. When he finished, she said, "Thank you for breakfast."

"I thought it best so that you could get to work as soon as possible," he replied simply.

She chided herself for thinking it had been something more. Snape was practical and that's all the gesture was. Without preamble, she immersed herself in her potions, knowing that they had to finish them by the end of the day.

---

Severus was quite impressed at her skills. She had always been quite good about following directions, and it seemed that had not changed. And she hadn't been at all annoying. Of course, she was working by herself, not trying to pull Potter and Weasley along with her. He still didn't see what she had seen in those two for them to form such a close friendship. He was well aware that the boys were likely drawn to her intellect and her willingness to help them. Oh, yes, he had known that she helped them – it had been quite clear in their essays.

Was she really that starved for attention and friendship that she would give away her most important asset? A part of him wondered what had happened to the other two members of the Golden Trio, and if they were still riding her coattails. He hoped not. She deserved better than either of them. She deserved a fellow intellectual, someone like him.

Quit it, you lecherous old man. You're old enough to be her father, and she'd never be interested in someone like you, he chided. He must be having those thoughts because she was the first remotely pretty and nice woman he had seen since being sent to Azkaban.

The potion he was working on required time to stabilize, and while he waited, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was rather good looking. Womanhood suited her quite nicely. Her hair was a little wild and unruly, but who was he to judge someone on the state of their hair?

He forced his attention back to his work. Thinking about her would not solve problems, only create them, and if he didn't finish these potions, it would be a moot point because he would be on his way back to Azkaban.

One by one he finished his potions. Noticing she was still working, he asked, "Hermione, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

She looked him, dumbfounded, for several seconds. "You called me Hermione."

"That is your name, is it not? And you are no longer my student. If it offends I you, I shall call you Miss Granger."

"No. I'm not offended," she said, slightly embarrassed. "It's fine if you call me Hermione. I just wasn't expecting it." He arched an eyebrow at her and she continued. "Oh, help." She fumbled with the pieces of parchment on the workbench. "Here. This one needs the last two steps. I'm almost done with the others."

He waited a beat, and then suggested, "You may call me Severus if you wish. In fact, I would prefer that, I believe."

He moved to the cauldron and noticed that she had all the ingredients organized and measured next to the cauldron. He had never really paid that much attention to how she brewed potions and was impressed with her organization.

"Thank you, Severus," she said, his name slightly unfamiliar on her tongue.

"Not at all," he replied politely, knowing it would serve to gain her trust. "May I enquire what the next step is, after the potions are complete?"

She stopped and looked up from her work. "I intended on taking them to St. Mungo's where they would be administered to the patients."

"May I accompany you? There may be subtle modifications that need to be made to whichever potion we determine is the correct one. And there is a certain order in which they need to be administered or it could be fatal. If I am able to be there, it would save time, which may be of the essence."

She looked uncomfortable as she determined how to answer him. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea. You being seen at St. Mungo's... We've managed to keep your release until now. It would be... Well... The wizarding world doesn't trust you," she finished bluntly.

"Perhaps a sealed Floo connection to the ward where the patients are quarantined? No one would need know that I am there, save the patients themselves. And their caregivers, of course."

She considered his suggestion for several seconds before saying, "I suppose that would work. I'll send an owl once I've finished."

She completed her potions and left to send the owl. Before she could return to the laboratory, he joined her in the kitchen. "Everything is ready for transport."

"Then we're just waiting on the Minister," she replied and looked down at her hands folded before her on the table.

To break the uncomfortable silence, she asked, "What will you do?" When he didn't immediately answer, she added, "I mean, assuming this works, you'll be free. What will you do?"

He leaned back in the chair. "I have not had time to give it much thought. I know that it is unlikely I will be welcome here in Britain since Albus did not see fit to leave a record of our agreement – at least not one that anyone has found."

"You really – it was on his orders?" she asked, leaning forward slightly with her head titled slightly.

Her reaction hardly surprised him, but she seemed genuinely interested. "Indeed it was. But as I am sure you have discovered, he does not always give people all the information he had on a subject. He was a most exasperating man to deal with," he said as he poured out the tea she had brewed.

She twisted the cup in her hand. "Yes, we did learn that." She thought back to his strange gifts and the utter lack of information he had given Harry about where to find the Horcruxes, or his own past. "It is possible he did leave that information somewhere. I mean he can't have wanted you to suffer, be locked for life in Azkaban. He testified on your behalf last time."

"Unfortunately, that is not something I had time to pursue. While Headmaster at Hogwarts, I was closely watched by my fellow Death Eaters. Searching for something that would exonerate me would have drawn the wrong sort of attention. I had hoped he had left something with Minerva or one of the other members of the Order." He truly had been disappointed that a man who had so carefully planned so many things over the years would have abandoned him. After all that he had done for Dumbledore, he had thought a memory, a sealed letter, something would have been left behind.

"We could search Hogwarts. That would be the logical place he would have left something like that," she said eagerly.

He laughed weakly. "Even pardoned, do you honestly believe they would let me anywhere near the school? It was my last residence. I'm sure they would fear that I have dark artifacts stored there and would want to retrieve them and continue the Dark Lord's work."

She frowned at his use of 'Dark Lord'. "Well, I could go search. No one would question me going to Hogwarts."

"No, they probably wouldn't, but they would question you wanting to search the school," he replied pointedly.

She thought a moment. "I could say I'm going there to talk to Dumbledore's portrait. Perhaps his portrait could provide some answers," she said hopefully.

"Minerva asked it and got no reply on the subject." At least that was what she had told the Wizengamot, and he had no reason not to believe her. She had been shocked and disappointed to hear that he had killed Albus. Surely she would have wanted an explanation. After all, they had been friends while he taught there.

Hermione sat contemplatively for a few moments. "No response? So he didn't answer Professor McGonagall's question?"

"He spoke very little while I occupied that office. And Minerva was not officially the Headmistress so he was under no obligation to speak with her." It still annoyed him that he had been played the pawn, even during his tenure as headmaster.

"But he was under obligation to speak to you and didn't."

"The portraits are only under obligation to assist the current Headmaster with regards to the school. Even if she had been Headmistress, he would have been under no obligation to answer a question pertaining to my innocence."

"I can't believe he would do that to you," she said, aghast.

"If half of what Rita Skeeter said is true, there is much that all of us did not know about him. For more than fifteen years I was a pawn to him. Once my usefulness was at an end..." He let his voice trail off, letting her come to the same conclusion he had.

"Well, I'm going to talk to him when this is over," she determinedly.

He chuckled derisively. "Good luck."

An owl flying in the window interrupted their conversation. Hermione took the letter it offered. After reading it, she said, "Let me go ahead and ensure no one is in the ward. Follow after five minutes."

Severus forced himself to sit patiently while he waited for the five minutes to elapse. He then moved to the fireplace, threw the Floo powder into it and said "Unknown Poisons Ward, St. Mungo's" as he stepped into the green flames.

---

When he arrived, he brushed the soot off his shoulders before noticing one of the Healers and Hermione standing there waiting on him, holding the potion's case.

"Where should we begin?" asked the Healer without bothering to introduce himself.

Glancing around the full ward, he said, "It would be best to start with the patient who is strongest. Some of these potions will be more taxing than others."

The Healer led him to the bedside of a young woman. "She was the last victim."

The Healer took a couple of steps back, but still watched intently as Severus examined the patient briefly before deciding which potion to administer first.

Hermione watched him silently, willing him to succeed. Not only did she want these who were the final victims of the war to recover, but she wanted it for Severus. She couldn't say why, but she had an uncanny feeling that he was telling the truth about why he killed Dumbledore. While it was possible she could prove his innocence while he was in Azkaban, she had a feeling that it would take both of them working together to find the proof.

She crossed her arms and chewed nervously on her fingernails. The first potion yielded no reaction. After the second the woman started twitching, she watched as Severus pulled a small phial out of the bag and administered it to her. The patient immediately calmed. Hermione wanted to ask him how it was going, but the look of concentration on his face told her that she should not interrupt him.

He pulled out the third potion and, using the supplies he had brought with him, made some modifications to it before giving it to the woman.

She held her breath because she recognized it as one she had worked on. She desperately hoped she hadn't made any errors even though her work had always been perfect before.

After a few seconds the woman gasped, inhaling deeply, and Hermione closed her eyes, fearing the worst.

Severus said softly, "Hermione."

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. The patient was looking around, trying to determine where she was. The Healer moved to her bedside as Severus stepped away.

"How do you feel?" the Healer asked gently.

"Wh-where...?" the woman asked weakly.

"You're in St. Mungo's." The Healer waved his wand over the woman to cast a diagnostic spell. He smiled warmly as she grasped the woman's hand. "You're going to be fine."

Relief rushed through Hermione to know that she had brewed the potion perfectly. She looked behind her and saw that Severus was already starting to treat the other patients in the ward.

She followed the attending Healer in Severus's wake, reassuring the patients as they regained consciousness. It didn't take long for him to finish administering the antidote, and Severus did his best to blend into the background of the room. She moved to stand before him. "That was wonderful. Thank you."

"I am no longer needed here. I should leave before more medical personnel come back to the ward to assist with patient care," he said quietly, trying to remain in the shadows.

Her elation waned slightly. "Oh, yes, of course. This is a Floo direct connection. Just say 'safe house'." He was gone before she could say anything else.