Love and Madness

A/N: With this chapter, perhaps one of the longest abandoned fics will at last be finished. I love this fic, but after book seven came out, which I did no particularly like, I sort of lost my heart where writing fanfic is concerned. My one regret was that I never finished this tale, and I am so happy to do that now. The last two chapters are finished and posted. They are unbeta'd, so any mistakes are completely my own. If you would like to read some of my non-fanfic fiction, you can find my blog by googling Julianne Q Johnson. I am currently posting a paranormal romance novel there, serially. I would certainly love to see some of my old readers there.

As always, thank you for reading.

Pook

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

There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad.

-Ambrose Bierce 1842-1914

A sudden commotion woke Hermione up. She was confused at first, wondering why everything was pitch dark. As she tried to ask someone to put on a light, the memory of recent events came pouring back. She was in the Hogwarts infirmary and she couldn't so much as open her closed eyelids. That part was a misery in itself. Though she could hear people's voices murmuring around her and the occasional scrape of what sounded like furniture being moved, she couldn't even see her rather boring view of the infirmary ceiling. A gentle hand shook her shoulder.

"Wakey, wakey," Ron said. After a moment, he carefully opened Hermione's eyelids for her.

The boring view of the infirmary ceiling didn't really help matters, but it comforted Hermione all the same. Soon enough her view was blocked by a smiling--and no longer glowing at all-- Harry Potter.

"You know the drill Hermione," Harry said cheerfully. "Concentrate on whatever that whore bitch did, and we'll soon have you sorted."

Momentarily distracted by an errant thought about how they all used the word "whore" a lot more than they used to, Hermione quickly concentrated, and brought the scene to mind. Raising his wand, Harry began the spell and a glimmering silver strand grew between his wand tip and Hermione's temple. Harry turned away, and Hermione could hear a small liquid sound as he dropped the memory into the Pensieve. Severus' head appeared, looking down at her, and Hermione saw that the worry was back in his eyes.

"Try not to fret, pet." Severus said, his calm tone at odds with his worried expression. "I'm well versed in Bellatrix's tricks. As soon as we know which spell to counter you'll be back to your normal lovely self."

She knew why he was still worried. There were as many volumes written about counters and antidotes for Dark curses as there were about Dark curses themselves. Many of the Dark Arts had counter measures, but some did not. Not to mention the fact that Bellatrix had a habit of twisting her spells to suit her own ends. However, if anyone could sort this, Severus could.

Severus, Remus, Draco, and Harry prepared to enter the Pensieve. Ron would stay behind to guard the stone basin, as he did before, when Hermione and Harry went to look at the events on the top of the Astronomy tower. Before the wizards left, Severus gave Ron a look so suspicious and malevolent that Ron was swiftly reminded of uncomfortable hours spent in potions class. Severus' eyes flicked to where Ron was holding Hermione's limp hand.

"Oh, bugger off, Snape," Ron groused, "you barmy old whore! We're just friends! Why don't you lot chivvy along before Severus hexes me for nothing?"

Yes, thought Hermione, it was going to take time for this group to break the "whore" habit. It seemed odd that the one person not using the word was Severus. With a final glare, Severus leaned over the Pensieve with the other three wizards. A flash of silver light and they vanished.

It wasn't long before they returned, but to a witch who was condemned to lay and literally do nothing, it seemed an age. Ron did his best to amuse her with idle prattle, but the one-sided conversation simply reminded Hermione of how helpless she was. Eventually, with another flash of silver light, the wizards reappeared.

Abruptly releasing Hermione's limp hand, Ron asked, "Well? Do you know what she was hit with?"

"Oh, yes!" Draco said cheerfully. "One of Aunt Bella's favorites. Pogrebin's Stupor."

"How hard is it going to be to counter it, Severus?" Remus asked.

Sitting down on the edge of Hermione's bed, Severus lifted one of her limp hands and softly kissed the inside of her wrist before carefully setting it back down on the coverlet. Hermione mentally relaxed as she noted that the worried expression in his eyes had completely vanished.

"It requires a potion as an antidote," Severus said, his voice sounding as it did when he'd taught class. "A potion that is brewed in six separate cauldrons simultaneously before you combine the six base potions into one at the end. Each potion of the six requires intricate timing, and the whole thing takes about 286 ingredients." Winking at Hermione, and smiling his crooked smile, he added, "Piece of cake."

With a quick goodbye and a whispered endearment, Severus was off to the potions lab with Draco and Remus in tow. For a while, Harry and Ron tried to keep Hermione occupied. They then noticed that she still had dark circles under her eyes, and kindly closed her eyelids so that she could sleep. While Severus toiled in the dungeon, Hermione slept.

Excited voices woke her, and gentle hands opened her eyelids again. Severus, Draco, and Remus all looked exhausted, and Hermione wondered just how long it had taken to brew the six part, fiddly potion. Soon enough, the potion phial was hovering in front of her face. It was an appalling color, a violent orange with swirls of moldy green, and had a repugnant stench that reminded Hermione of a cross between a skunk and a septic tank. A weary Severus spelled the phial so that an immobile Hermione would not choke on the vile contents. Her eyes watering reflexively from the noxious fumes of the potion, Severus opened her mouth with a gentle thumb and tipped the disgusting mess into it.

The results were as grotesque as the liquid itself. Suddenly, all of Hermione's muscles seemed to clench at once, sending her body into wild contortions. When Harry and Ron reached out to hold her down, Severus stopped them.

"No!," he commanded. "I know it's difficult to watch, but if you hold her down while the muscle contractions are so violent, you could accidentally break her bones."

As the contractions subsided, another unpleasant side effect made itself known. A slimy fluid came forth from her every pore, making Hermione herself smell as noxious as the potion had. It had the added effect of turning her rather orange.

"Is that normal?" Remus asked, gagging a bit on the stench.

"Perfectly normal," Severus said, as he cleaned the slime off of Hermione's body with a silent spell.

Hermione's first voluntary act after being immobile for nearly 24 hours was to suddenly lean over the side of the small hospital bed and become violently ill. Holding her hair with one hand, Severus vanished the mess as she made it with a series of flicks of his wand. Hermione's next semi-voluntary act was to burst into noisy tears. Climbing onto the bed, Severus held Hermione tightly in his arms, rocking her slightly and murmuring in her ear.

"That's it, love. That's the last of it. I know that antidote is... unpleasant, but we had no choice. Hush, trollop, you should be back to normal now."

Quieting slowly, Hermione then looked into Severus' weary eyes, threw her arms around his neck, and snogged the breath out of him. He didn't seem to mind in the least. Ron and Harry turned slightly green, while Remus and Draco cheered like mad. Soon Harry and Ron lost their green pallor and managed to smile, if not cheer. The power of the Death Eaters was broken. Lord Voldemort was dead, and in his place was a young boy who seemed to have had his heart healed somehow by that light of love. The Order had all survived in one piece, and there were not even any casualties among the Death Eaters unless one counted the snake. After years of hardship, suddenly all was right with the world. If their friend wanted to snog their evil potions master, who were they to complain?

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

Epilogue-

The years following The Battle of Tumby Woodside were peaceful ones. With Lord Voldemort gone for good at last, the majority of the Death Eaters in prison, and the few that escaped being hunted down by the Aurors, the wizarding world knew a peace it hadn't known in over 40 years.

After that final battle, when the celebrating stopped and all had a moment to reflect, Ron and Harry were shocked to realize that their seventh and final year at school was to start in a matter of days. Both young wizards were often heard to whinge about how defeating Dark wizards really ought to get them out of having to do schoolwork.

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were married shortly after the battle, to the shock of hardly anyone. Minerva remained in her position as headmistress, as Albus decided to retire and spend his future years in private research. For many years he had suspected that there were more than twelve uses for dragon's blood, and now he hoped to prove it. They formally adopted the young Tom Riddle, changing his name to Dumbledore, so the lad wouldn't have the stigma attached to Riddle. The lad was a mystery in itself. Though there were similarities between him and the Tom Riddle of old, his empathy was as strong as his magic was weak. Tom adjusted, finished school, and eventually took the position of caretaker when Argus Filch retired. The students adored him as they never could adore Filch, and he was often seen helping this or that student with friendly advice.

At first, Albus expressed grave concern about what would become of Severus and Hermione when she returned to school. Wizards can be a prudish lot, and neither Albus nor Minerva was willing to have Hermione's reputation sullied in any way. Hermione quelled this meddling by immediately dropping out of school. A quick owl to Swarf, and Hermione was immediately apprenticed to the Gringotts goblins, who were happy to have her apprentice at a young age before she was "spoiled by a lot of wizarding nonsense." An equally quick betrothal, the purchase of a small house in Hogsmeade, and Severus and Hermione moved in together. As a betrothal gift, Flitwick charmed a door in their new house so that it opened into the Dungeons at Hogwarts, so that Severus could be near to his Slytherin students when needed.

Life went on, quietly and peacefully, other than the word "whore" making a sudden and inexplicable rise to common usage in the wizarding world, and causing quite a loss of House points at Hogwarts. Severus never again said the word, though his use of the word "trollop" as a term of endearment puzzled many.

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

A/N: Some may see this ending as a reaction to the carnage of book 7, but that is not actually the case. From the start of this fic, I planned to kill Nagini, a snake, and Moody, who actually dies before the events of the story take place. I planned to kill no one else, not even Voldemort, though he becomes so changed as to barely resemble his former self.

The idea for this fic came from that curious door in the department of Mysteries. That door that is mentioned, and then never heard of again in cannon. I puzzled about that door and began to wonder what would the effects of the pure power of love be, and how could they be harnessed? In the end, this tale is about love. The love of friendship, the love of romance, and the pure power of love to fight against the darkness. There is no room for death in such a story. Indeed, I could not even stand to allow Albus to remain dead in it for long.

I hope that you have enjoyed this tale, even as long as it took to finish. There will be no sequel, for a sequel to a world I've left in such peace and harmony would be boring indeed.

Thank you for reading.

Pook