Hermione

The voices were back. Or, rather, not voices but voice. Curled up in a ball in the old potion's classroom, she heard it echoing in her mind, calling her name: 'Hermione!'

It was his voice.

She didn't answer, of course. The voices had tried to trick her before, had tried to get her to leave the sanctuary of this room. She wouldn't do it. She knew if she left this spot she would lose her last link to him, and in doing so, succumb to the madness she was finding harder and harder to deny.

''Hermione!'

She could hear footsteps echoing rather loudly down the hallways; harsh breathing she knew was not her own. Whatever ghost her mind had conjured up to drive her over the edge of insanity was moving closer.

''Hermione!' The voices had gotten sneakier, using his voice like that, when they knew how much she missed him. It was hard not to answer. She could feel herself biting her lip against his name, tears forming in her eyes. She tried to stifle the sobs rising in her throat but found they escaped regardless of her will.

She was so tired of being alone.

Outside in the hallway the footsteps stopped. The large black door, half hanging on its hinges, swung forward slightly before crumbling to dust.

''Hermione?'

He was standing there in the open doorway, outlined by the grit floating around him. His voice sounded slightly raspy, as if it were holding back a great emotion. Hermione knew this would break her.

He was not really there. Her mind had finally cracked and conjured up the one thing guaranteed to destroy her.' 'Severus?' her voice was soft, rusty from disuse and tears, and so full of futile hope it made her wince. ''Is it really you? Is it really you?'

Snape stepped forward into the room, his long strides eating up the distance between them, before he sank to his knees in front of her. It appeared he was crying, with slow tears leaving tracks in the dust on his face.' 'It's me, Hermione. I'm here.'

Hermione knew he was lying, even as she slid out of the seat she had been curled on and fell into his arms, but she didn't care.

She didn't want to be alone anymore. She would rather be delusional and insane than alone, that much was certain. If she was going to fall pell-mell into insanity, she'd rather do it in his arms than anywhere else.

''Severus, where have you been? I've missed you so much!'

She didn't know how long it had been since she had last heard a voice or seen another person in her mind. She had thought her doppel-Snape had disappeared ages ago, not long after the real Snape had deserted her, but he was back and this time he was not being nasty.

She had started crying in earnest as she slid into the arms of this figment, relieved at how real he felt – the strength of the arms surrounding her were just as substantial as the rest of this world she had created inside her mind. She burrowed her head against his chest, breathing in his scent, and tried not to think as his soft murmurs washed over her and his hands soothed her.

Finally, when she felt she could speak again, she whispered,' 'Why can't you really be here?'

Beneath her, Snape stiffened.' 'I am here, Hermione.'

'No, you're not. You're just a figment of my imagination – a subconscious manifestation, as it were. You're one of the 10 steps the article in Witch Weekly warned me about. It's quite interesting actually. I must not be as crazy as I thought, if I can recreate you so perfectly in my head. Where did all these flowers come from, Severus?

She frowned at the flowers beneath her feet, ''I suppose they're an improvement on crumbling ruins. Gods, I must look a sight,' she muttered suddenly, pushing against his chest and leaning back. ''Do forgive the mess, but I haven't felt much like cleaning. It's been a long time since I had visitors.'

''Hermione,' Snape said quietly,' 'what are you talking about?'

Hermione didn't reply immediately, instead she ran her hands unsteadily through her hair and noted with a weird sense of disconnection that she was covered in dust. She could see the imprint of her body where she had been leaning into him, and held back a smile.

''I've mussed your bat suit.'

''Pardon me?' Snape's voice was still quiet, but the tone of it had changed somewhat. It was no longer quite so gentle, a hint of confusion had crept into it.

Hermione smiled at him, before reaching out and trying to dust off his chest, ''I've mussed your bat suit. It's a good thing you aren't real, or you'd be furious with me. I can hear you now – the real you, I mean – 'Miss Granger! What is the meaning of all... this... dust!'' She had growled that last bit out in a fair imitation of Snape at his most supercilious.' ''Fifty points from Gryffindor, you impertinent dirty chit!''

'Hermione, I assure you, I am real and I....'

Hermione was starting to get cross. ''Don't lie to me! Why are you always lying to me? You aren't real! You said you weren't coming back. You were my only hope and you – you -' she stood suddenly, turning away from him. ''You abandoned me. You left me here, all by myself. You promised you'd save me and then you just left me here...'

She had wrapped her arms across her chest, hugging herself defensively, her back turned to him. She was shaking and biting her lip, trying not to cry. She couldn't let this – thing – break her, not after she had survived so long.

Hermione knew he had risen to his feet as well. She could feel the heat from his body ensnaring her; his eyes studying her with an intensity that seemed all too real. He stepped forward, crushing the flowers that seemed to be blooming everywhere under his feet. The sharp smell of their perfume, in conjunction with his proximity, was nearly overwhelming.

She felt his hands reach out to clasp her shoulders. The grip was painfully tight, but she welcomed it anyway. She didn't care if this existed only in her mind anymore. She would take Snape any way she could get him, even if he was just a 'complex manifestation of her subconscious desires.'

''I came back, Hermione,' his voice was firm. ''You're dying.'

Hermione scoffed, ''No, I am not. It's impossible. The curse wasn't designed that way – I cannot die, as much as I want to. It's the 'Living Sleep', which implies that the recipient of said curse – namely me – must live.'

'You are dying, Hermione,' his voice was stronger. ''I came as soon as I heard. I've somehow – I've entered your mind using legilimency.'

Hermione turned to face him again, gratified when his warm hands didn't fall from her shoulders. ''Now I know you're really not here. Legilimency doesn't work on me – Headmaster Dumbledore tried when I was at Hogwarts and he could never find me. That's why everyone thinks I'm in a coma.'

Snape paused, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face. ''I'd forgotten about that... then how was I able to find you?'

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, ''Because you didn't find me. I made you up. Will you pay attention?'

He smiled at that, a fleeting smile that somehow made his face look like it was going to crack in half. ''So, when Albus tried legilimency it didn't work. What did it feel like?'

'Why do you care so much?' she shot back, shoulders stiffening like a cat ready to hiss. Just as quickly though her tone changed, and it was defeated.' 'I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way you're better company than... than...'

She shivered,' 'It was like I was standing behind a pane of glass, looking through a dark mirror. I could see him, but he couldn't see me.' Hermione sighed, ''It's always the same – I can see everyone, when I want to. All I need to do is look! It's so hard when no one sees me back. It was the same way with you, every time you came to visit me. I could see you, I heard you – gods... I even... could feel your hand on my hair...'

His hands were caressing her shoulders now, almost subconsciously, thumbs gliding back and forth across her collar bone, fingers sliding up her neck to caress the shell of her ear and the back of her skull. The real Snape would never do this – never touch her like she was a piece of glass, or a fragile butterfly. She could quite get used to this Snape, if she let herself. Suddenly, being crazy didn't seem quite so unappealing anymore.

Humming with pleasure, she leaned into his hands and tilted her head to the side to give him more access to the smooth column of her throat. She couldn't stop looking at him, and wondered if she had ever noticed the nobility behind his taciturn features before. His stern mouth was softened slightly and his eyes glittered like polished onyx, such a deep black they were fathomless. Hermione would gladly throw herself into them to drown, if she could. She had never realized how beautiful they were. She could see the universe in his gaze.

They stood that way for several moments, before Snape realized what he was doing and pulled his hands away from her, staring at them as if he didn't recognize them as his own. Before he could apologize, Hermione had sighed peevishly, ''Did I give you permission to stop touching me?'

Snape looked dumbfounded at this, ''Pardon me?'

'Look,' she replied, ''I've created you. Somehow my mind has finally figured out how to construct a you that actually responds to me, that can actually touch me. I realize you're just a figment of my imagination, doubtless I've finally lost what little sanity I had left, but you're here now, and you can touch me, so don't stop!'

'Hermione, for the last time, I assure you, I am really here. You have not imagined me. And it is entirely inappropriate for me to stand here and,' he paused, as if struggling to find a word that wouldn't choke him, ''caress your neck as if...as if...'

'As if you have any right too?' Hermione supplied. ''If not you, then who? If I had wanted someone else, I wouldn't have brought you here, would I? I may be nuts, but I still know who I want. And I get to say what's right and wrong in my own mind. You're not my professor here – you're Severus. Simply Severus. And I want you to touch me. I've wanted you to touch me for a long time now.'

'Are you insane?' Severus hissed, even as he paled suddenly and stepped away from her.

''Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you,' Hermione agreed pleasantly. ''I'm barking mad. Don't you want to kiss me?'

'I cannot, in good conscience, take advantage of you in such a manner, Hermione. I will not. Once I've managed to convince you I'm real, I don't want you to have done anything you might... regret. Now that I know you're still with us, I will work even harder to find a cure for you. I will need you to help me – perhaps you will remember something I might have missed. But I need you sane and talking to me without hating me for any indiscretions here.'

Hermione smiled, ''You looked just like him when you said that! 'I cannot, in good conscience, take advantage of you in such a manner!" she mimicked. ''You even sounded like the Snape I remember – the arrogant one, from Hogwarts; not the one that visited me. I am an adult, you know. I'm not a student anymore. I know my own mind.'

Snape smirked sarcastically at that, ''How can you know your own mind if you are insane?' His arms folded quite familiarly against his chest.' 'Now, what do I need to do to convince you I am real?'

Hermione paused at that, before responding,' 'You can't. Now, will you please get off that high horse of yours and start listening to me?'

''Eighteen months in a coma hasn't cured you of your bossiness, I see. You always thought you knew better than any one else.' Snape reached out and grabbed her arm, none to gently, and attempted to drag her from the room. 'Come with me. I'll prove to you I'm really here.'

Hermione refused to budge. ''This is a trap. I won't go. The minute I leave this room, I'll be lost for good, and then you'll desert me, just like he did.'

'For Merlin's sake, girl!' Snape was starting to get impatient,' 'I had to stop visiting you – it was for your own good, as well as mine. Had I known you were actually rattling around inside this – disorganized – mind of yours, I would have never left you alone. I came back when I heard you were dying – does that not count for anything?'

'Don't take that tone of voice with me,' Hermione replied acidly, 'If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here in the first place, would I? I'd be listening to Harry rattle on and on about quidditch and it would be you trapped in your own mind, waiting for someone to visit you. Only, no one ever would because everybody hates you.'

She stopped talking the moment Snape dropped her arm. His face froze into the icy mask she had been all too familiar with as a student, and tears of shame and remorse rose in her eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered contritely. 'That was mean of me, and I didn't mean it.'

'But it's true nonetheless, Miss Granger.' Snape replied, his voice suddenly devoid of inflection, even if he hesitated slightly over her name. ''It is my fault you're here; I recognize this as fact. However, I am doing my best to rectify your situation. I do not want you and your sacrifice lying on my conscience any more than it already is. I know I am really here and am determined to prove it to you, even if that means I must pick you up and carry you to where you can actually see me with your own eyes.'

Hermione shivered at his words. She could feel the hurt behind them and recognized the closure for what it was – his inner walls slamming shut. She looked at the man in front of her, noticing lines at the corners of his eyes that she had never noticed on the real Snape, grooves around his mouth that appeared deeper than they had during the war. There were even a few strands of silver in the black of his hair. Why had she aged her image of him? She stepped closer to him, suddenly aware of the disarray of their surroundings.

Why were there flowers growing through the floor? When had everything rotted? This room - her sanctuary – was crumbling around her. Snape stood in front of her, stiff and cold, radiating discomfort in a way that made him seem all too real.

'I'd visit you,' she stated quietly. 'I'd come everyday, and bring you flowers. I'd talk to you and read to you and hope that my visits would keep you anchored to reality, as your visits did for me. I would give you the same devotion and loyalty you gave to me, and I would never give up on you.'

She watched as the broken walls around her slowly started reforming, the cracks in the mortar repairing themselves as she spoke. She was starting to believe that, maybe, just maybe, he was real – and even if he wasn't, the fantasy was nice. She stepped towards him, reaching out a hand to touch him, half-smiling as she saw his eyes widen imperceptibly as she shifted her reality around them and brought the potion's room back to the appearance of normalcy.

'That last day you visited me, when you fell asleep in my room, you were dreaming. I heard you whisper my name. What were you dreaming about?'

Snape looked at her, before quickly looking away, 'Nothing important.' His voice was quiet, but Hermione sensed the sudden tension in him. She watched in amazement as a slight flush crawled up his face, tingeing the blades of his cheek bones.

And that's when she knew. She could never have conjured up a Snape that would blush. It was outside the realm of her abilities to even envision. Laughing and crying at the same time, she threw herself back into his arms. ''It's really you! You're really here!'

He stood stiffly against her onslaught for a few moments. She could hear his heart hammering against her cheek, could feel his breath across the top of her head as he looked down at her. Finally, she felt his arms tentatively wrap around her.

''Silly girl,' he murmured. ''Silly girl.'

''Promise me you'll never leave me again,' she cried, ''I don't think I could take it. I need you.'

''Hermione, I -' and then he was gone, her arms holding only empty air.

''Severus... Severus!'

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A/N redux: please don't hate me for that ending. Hehe. Also, I've been listening to Gordon Lightfoot all day long and feel the need to force you all to read these lyrics:

The Way I Feel – Gordon Lightfoot

when the birds have flown and the nest is bare