Part III - Return: Refusal of the Return

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me. Just borrowed. Will be returned. Snape is welcome to stay, though.

A big Thank You goes to my beta-reader and brit-picker, Melusin, who still transfers my babble into language, sorts my random punctuation and is a good friend. Her patience seems endless.

This chapter is dedicated to my beta Melusin.

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Part III – Return

Chapter 24 – Refusal of the Return

Having found bliss and enlightenment in the other world, the hero may not want to return to the ordinary world to bestow the boon onto his fellow man.

(Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces)

---

This must be hell. It was dark, and the nothingness of death enveloped him almost completely, being only briefly interrupted by moments of pain and flashes of bright light. Oh, yes, there was pain. There was PAIN. His whole world fluctuated between nothingness and pain. It was a searing, mind-numbing sensation that forced all awareness inside, that didn't acknowledge anything else and demanded his full attention. When there was pain, then there was nothing but pain. He moaned.

Something was prying his jaws apart. Cool liquid was filling his mouth, running down his throat. A sound: familiar, comforting, like a hum. Then there was nothing again.

When he realized that this wasn't actually hell and that the world had come back, it was still dark, but the pain had died down to a numb ache, a feeling as though all his muscles had been wrenched from his bones, as if all his joints had been torn apart, the sinews and tendons stretched beyond endurance. But this meant that there were muscles. He had muscles. He had sinews and tendons. He was capable of thinking and feeling. He knew that Inferi couldn't think and feel, so, after eliminating the other possibilities, there was only one answer left. He was alive. He was alive, and he felt as weak as an infant. He was the centre of his universe, and there was no one else there. He didn't remember anyone else, and right now, he didn't even care about anyone else.

His new world was silent, except for the painful beating of his heart. Gradually, he remembered that his pain had always originated in his heart and spread out, cramping up his whole body until it reached his fingers and toes. But now the pain had become somewhat more bearable, and his heart was just beating along: loudly and fast. It hammered in a steady rhythm until it sang, Love is like oxygen...

What? Severus' eyes snapped open. It was still dark, and he couldn't see a thing, but the hammering of the frantic beat continued and so did the singing, which was horribly out of tune.

He rubbed his chest and felt the soft vibrations from inside. His heart was beating, but that infernal hammering and singing was clearly coming from somewhere else. The caterwauling finally gave Severus a clue as to where he must be and completely dragged him back into the world of the living. Only one person could sing with such enthusiasm and so horribly out of tune... and an old tune from the Seventies, no less.

"Paulie," Severus whispered, paused, and then croaked somewhat louder, "PAULIE!"

Severus registered with satisfaction that his voice wasn't suffering the same weakness as his body. He had his doubts about his mind, though. Paulie?

The music, if you could call it music, stopped. Hasty footsteps approached the room he was in––it must have been Paulie's master bedroom––and the door was thrown open. With a click of a switch, there was light. Severus squinted.

"Your Highness!" Paul Snape cried. "About time you graced us with your presence, man."

Severus' Muggle cousin grinned from ear to ear and sat down on a chair besides Severus' bed. He took Severus' hand––Severus almost snatched it away––and patted it.

"Bloody hell, Sev, you gave me quite a scare. Good to see you awake, lad. Good to see ya."

Were those tears glittering in Paulie's eyes? Certainly not. Severus blinked again.

"What? Where?" he croaked out.

"Where do you think? My house, of course," Paulie said, still patting Severus' hand and giving him a sly look. "Good old Muggle neighbourhood."

Muggle?"What? How? Who?" Severus shook his head to clear it. He wasn't exactly feeling eloquent, right now.

Paulie smirked. "You could have told me that you're a wizard, you know. Just think what we could have done to pull the lasses, back then, with a bit of that magic of yours..." Paulie stared dreamily at the ceiling.

"Humour me," Severus grunted. "How did you learn about, ah, magic? Who brought me here? Why am I here?" He paused, trying to quell the fears that had suddenly sprung up.

"Your little Nightshade is all right, and so is your mum. Don't worry." Paulie patted his hand again as Severus let out a long sigh of relief, his head falling back onto the pillow. A heavy weight had been lifted from his heart; a weight he had only just realized had to have been there all the time since he had regained consciousness. It might have been part of the pain that had been squeezing his heart since it seemed to be beating more lightly, all of a sudden.

"Nightshade brought you here...you and all the others. Who'd have thought that I'd be running a wizard sanctuary one of these days?" Paulie laughed.

"Why?" Severus whispered. "Where is she? Who are they?" His heart turned somersaults at the thought of Hermione. She was alive; that was what counted. His mother seemed to be safe as well. The rest would sort itself out.

"Aunt Eileen is back at that school, and your Nightshade returns here every evening. Dunno where she goes hopping around during the day. You know, she took me on one of those disappearing trips with her..."

"Disapparating?"

"If you say so. Anyway, once was enough for me, thank you very much. Teleportation! Who'd have thought...?" Paulie's voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over.

"Why are we here?" Severus asked, afraid to hear the answer. "Who else is here?"

"I'll let Gandalf explain that to you."

"Who?"

"That old bloke who looks like Gandalf. You know Gandalf...that old wizard from the Lord of the Rings? Long white beard, long white hair, aura of power, speaks in riddles... He's just like him."

"What?" Severus sat up in alarm, disbelief twisting his features. "What's going on here?" he shouted.

"Wait, I'll get him for you." Paulie rose from Severus' bedside, patting his hand one last time. "He'll explain it better than I can." With a happy smirk, Paulie left.

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm his once again wildly beating heart. What was wrong with his heart, anyway, with all that frantic and painful hammering? And why was breathing so painful?

A few moments later, the door opened again, and an apparition that looked just like Albus Dumbledore stepped in.

"Am I dead?" Severus whispered, feeling faint.

"My dear Severus," the apparition said. "You're not dead and neither am I, although we both came very close."

Severus closed his eyes. "This can't be real."

"Take a few deep breaths, my friend. Your heart isn't as strong as it should be, yet. It's been hit by far too many vicious spells. That last stunner..."

Severus ground his teeth. He was sure that he was losing his mind. "You look like Dumbledore. You sound like him. How can that be? Who are you? Never mind my strength, I want the truth," he bellowed, rising up, but falling back onto his pillows again immediately. His heart seemed to jump over a skipping rope in his chest.

"I can't blame you for disbelieving me," the white-bearded man said. "I wouldn't believe it myself, either. But it's really me. Look." The old man whistled a soft tune, and Fawkes the Phoenix appeared and sat down on the old man's shoulder, rubbing his head against his cheek.

"Fawkes!" Severus exclaimed. "What?"

The bird blinked and looked at Severus, obviously very aware of its continuing importance in being proof of good intentions. Then, it started to sing. It was a calming song, and a happy one. As always when Fawkes sang, Severus felt as if all the weight of the world was being lifted from him. He felt hope and confidence and the unswerving faith that everything was going to turn out well.

When Fawkes stopped singing, he nibbled at the old man's hair. Dumbledore, if it was indeed him, raised his hand and gently stroked his familiar's wings and back. It was his right hand, and it looked as white and unblemished as his left hand, which was resting in his lap.

"All right, say what you have to say," Severus whispered, feeling mellow enough to listen to anyone and anything.

"I did not foresee what would happen to me, Severus; there was no way that I could have foreseen that. I would not have put you through so much pain and guilt had I known." The old man swallowed and looked at the ceiling. "You found out what Lily Potter discovered, didn't you? You found out that many of the Dark spells dealing with souls and the preservation of life are in fact perversions of benevolent, ancient magic that was devised for safe-keeping?"

Severus nodded.

"And you guessed correctly that Horcrux creation is a manifestation of predatory magic, mimicking the protective power of sacrifices made with love."

"Yes," Severus sighed. "And?"

"You would have found out what I know now if you'd had as much time to study the topic as I had. There's even more to the Horcrux perversion than we thought. Its creation actually mimics a beneficial magic that surpasses the protective spells, but it seems to work only for people whose familiar is a Phoenix."

"Oh," Severus muttered. Some things started to click into place in his mind.

"Yes. When someone who is associated with a Phoenix sacrifices his life, then the Phoenix swallows a part of that person's soul and binds it to this earth. Just as a Horcrux is spelled to do, but the Phoenix does it willingly. I'd never have thought that my death would be considered a sacrifice, but apparently that's what it was. Either for Draco's soul, or Harry's life there and then, or the cause... I don't know.

"When I fell off the Astronomy Tower, I didn't die. Instead, I fell into a deep sleep that resembled death. I slept long enough for my body to heal completely, as you can see." He raised both arms and looked at them in wonder.

"When I woke up, it was because Fawkes had sung to me after he'd had a burning day. He sang a tune I've never heard before. Obviously, we both rose from the ashes. It took me several days to remember who I was and to gather my strength, but eventually I left my tomb and got my bearings. When I realised that I was really alive, with my magic intact, and as healthy as a hundred-and-fifty-year-old man can be, I tried to find out what had been going on. I didn't want to walk into Minerva's office and give her a heart attack, you know."

"Quite," Severus agreed. "Go on."

"So, I sneaked around the grounds and encountered a large group of Death Eaters waiting at the gates. They were cheerful, ready to invade Hogwarts, and from what I could gather from their gabbing was that the Ministry had fallen. So I went there."

"The white phoenix... That was you?" Severus whispered.

"Yes, that's what they called me after they saw my Patronus." Dumbledore smiled. "Obviously, my sudden appearance there gave them new hope and renewed strength since the witches and wizards who had fled the Ministry re-formed, and soon after, they won the Ministry back. I didn't linger and Apparated to Hogwarts where I gave Minerva a fright after all, but I also managed to cheer up many of our fighters. And so I finally made my way down to the Chamber of Secrets, but when I arrived there, the battle was already won, and all you brave people had helped Harry to defeat Tom in a way I never would have thought possible, to be honest. I have to admit that I was ready to sacrifice Harry, and as many of you––of us––as necessary. But Harry obviously had his own ideas."

Severus breathed deeply and smirked. "For some odd reason, I can now believe that it's really you." He swallowed, trying to suppress his tears, but not quite succeeding. If he could believe in the old man's existence, then he wasn't a murderer. "So it's over now? We won?"

"In a sense," Dumbledore said, looking sad. The usually sparkling eyes of the former Headmaster had become dull; the smile was forced, his voice sounding as if he were choking on unshed tears.

"It could be over, but Harry...."

"Potter?" Severus interrupted. "What happened to him? When we cast the spell, he seemed to gain control over the Dark Lord. At least, that's what it looked like to me before something hit me and I passed out."

"Then you didn't witness the true end of Voldemort, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said.

"What happened?"

"Well, you were there and saw how Voldemort couldn't hold out against Harry's strength when Harry invaded his mind. That must have been the last thing Voldemort was expecting, and thus Harry succeeded in capturing his mind and forcing him to feel all the love he had within him. And so Harry offered to make Tom's soul whole again."

Severus nodded. He remembered only too well; he had been involved in that incantation himself. "Yes, the old incantation did work well, didn't it? All that love and compassion offered to Potter proved to be 'the power the dark lord knoweth not' from the prophecy."

"Exactly!" Dumbledore agreed. "But it did not end there. Shortly after Voldemort's defeat, when Harry faced Tom...the boy who'd been lost...suddenly, Peter Pettigrew changed into his human form and forced Neville Longbottom to stab Tom to death."

"What? Damned rat!" Severus spat. "Another mistake that will haunt me forever..."

"Let me finish," Dumbledore interrupted. "We were, of course, speechless. We watched in horror as Pettigrew pushed a knife into Neville's hand, and, forcing that hand with his own, slit Tom's throat."

"Tom," Severus snarled. "You still call him 'Tom' after all he did, after all he became?"

"He was Tom Riddle when he died. There was no 'Dark Lord', anymore. You know as well as I do that the worst monsters, the most terrifying creatures, are our fellow human beings. Voldemort tried, and he got far, but in the end, he was human. He died as a human being and not as a demon, nor as an evil spirit."

"Almost too merciful a death for one like him. Potter did him a favour in letting him move on."

"I don't even want to think about a demon with his spirit, to be frank, and I don't really know if Tom managed to move on. I hope he did. I don't think his mindless self would have been capable of becoming a ghost."

"So he is really and truly dead now?" Severus shuddered and let out a deep breath.

"Yes, he is really and truly dead, but I am still not finished," Dumbledore said sadly.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What happened to Potter? Was he hurt by Pettigrew?"

"No. As soon as the deed was done, Pettigrew let out a mad laugh and transformed back into a rat. We all tried to hex him, but before we could get to him, Miss Granger's cat came from ... somewhere..., caught the rat and killed it."

Severus' eyes had widened. "How very convenient," he sneered. "Aren't we lucky that we can blame it on the cat? No trial, no verdict, no lengthy debates about what to do with the traitor."

"Indeed," sighed Dumbledore, "but it's still not the end. When everyone had stopped staring at Crookshanks and the dead rat, we became aware that Harry had collapsed. This may have happened the moment Tom died, but there was too much happening at that time; no one was looking his way. We were all too busy watching Pettigrew. Harry fell into a coma and hasn't woken up since. Poppy couldn't revive him; the Healers at St. Mungo's couldn't help him...no one can. We are at a loss, now."

"I woke up. Maybe he just needs more time..."

"You've had brief episodes of consciousness, but you must have forgotten them as soon as they passed. You were in a lot of pain and heavily drugged. We were very concerned for your life for a while, but your state was nothing compared with the coma Harry is in."

"I see. So that's it, then." Severus frowned. "We lost the hero. A bitter victory."

"There are enough heroes around," Dumbledore said. "People are still celebrating. Many who were involved in the battle, and many who claim to have been involved, have been honoured. There is a new Minister of Magic, and not all is well, I'm saddened to tell you. That's why you are here."

"Who is Minister? What happened to the Underground?"

"Arthur Weasley is Minister, and maybe I should just let you read the pile of Daily Prophets I brought for your perusal." Dumbledore pointed at a stack of newspapers on Severus' bedside table. "I don't want to tire you out too much. Miss Granger would have my head if I did." Dumbledore smiled.

"Where is she?"

"She's doing research. We haven't given up on Harry. There must be something we can do. We found a way to defeat Voldemort; we must find a way to bring Harry back from wherever he is."

"How are his friends taking it?" Severus enquired. "After all we went through to get that Horcrux out of him, and now this..."

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed and nodded, looking sad. "Ginny Weasley is of course devastated. Her brother isn't much better. They both sit at Harry's side and refuse to leave him. Miss Granger has already started to look for a cure and is working tirelessly, more to prevent facing up to the sad truth than anything else, I assume."

Severus nodded. That sounded just like Hermione. "If I can be of any help..." he offered.

"First, you must recover fully and catch up on all that's happened, and then I am certain that you can be of much help. There may be a potion, a spell, some ancient magic; there must be something."

"Well then, I will join the search shortly," Snape promised, and Dumbledore gave him a pat on the shoulder and left.

---

Severus gave the stack of newspapers a doubtful glance. Did he really want to know the gory details after all those hints Albus had just given him? Couldn't he remain in blissful ignorance a while longer? He shook himself. Arthur Weasley's reign could hardly be worse than that of Voldemort, could it? Arthur was a reasonable, even gentle, man. He had to be half-mad from grief for his wife, but still, he was Arthur Weasley. How bad could it be? Severus flexed his fingers, stretched his arms, steeled himself and took the first paper from the top of the stack.

Elusive Granger Bolts Again.

The infamous would-be heroine, and ex-best friend of the boy-who-barely-lived, once again managed to escape the grip of the Aurors, who were in hot pursuit.

"She is just so fast. I've never seen anyone act so fast, at least not since all the Death Eaters were captured," Auror Dawlish told our reporter. "This confirms our suspicion that she is in league with that dangerous Death Eater, Severus Snape, who escaped captivity in the turmoil and confusion after the final battle. The ministry has increased the reward for the capture of Hermione Granger to 500 Galleons. Anyone who sees her is expected to report it to the authorities."

This reporter is doubtful about the wisdom of such a decision, however. Too many people remember the steadfast loyalty Hermione Granger has always shown to her two friends: Harry Potter, the hero, and Ronald Weasley, the minister's youngest son.

"My father is making a mistake," Ronald Weasley said when we asked him. "I can only hope that he comes to his senses soon. Hermione has always been on the side of the light. She and Snape, and all the Underground people with them, played an essential part in our victory. If only Harry would wake up... He'd set things to rights. But as long as he's asleep, we won't be able to do very much. All we can do is be with him, stay with him, at his cousin's house."

Harry Potter was moved from St. Mungo's a month after the final battle, claimed by his aunt Petunia Dursley, a Muggle and next of kin, and has been cared for ever since at his cousin's residence.

More on Harry Potter's condition and the reasons why Minister Weasley would prefer him in the ministry's care and not with Muggles on page 4.

"What the fuck? Fuck! Bloody, blistering fuck!" Severus couldn't believe his eyes. A warrant out for Hermione's arrest? Suspected of working with Death Eaters? After all she'd been through? Hermione, the bravest, most caring, loving... No, he wouldn't get into that. That was a matter from the past, a bright light when there had been little hope. Now things had changed. They didn't need each other so desperately any longer; at least, she didn't need him any longer. She was back with her friends; she would find someone more fitting, someone less tainted, someone her age. He'd not burden her with his own desperate need for compassion. It should be enough for him to know that she was alive. He sighed.

Maybe he should start at the beginning and learn how all this had come about. If only he didn't feel so weak. He let the Daily Prophet fall onto his lap and was asleep a heartbeat later.

---

When Severus woke up again, someone had turned the lights off in his room. It was still dark outside, or maybe he'd slept around the clock, and he could barely see his own hands.

He did feel a bit stronger, though. With that realisation, however, the memories came flooding back. Something was very wrong. Albus was alive and Hermione was in danger. Hermione was in danger. That could not be tolerated. He had to help her; he owed her that much. Damn his weakness. He fumbled for the reading lamp on his bedside table and turned it on.

Looking around, he noticed a glass of water and drained it with one long gulp. There, that was better. That had cleared the mind. Looking around again, his eyes fell on the stack of Daily Prophets. He really should start at the beginning. Stretching again, he pulled a few papers out from the lowest level of the stack.

The headlines that jumped out at him, were: "He-who-must-not-be-named defeated. Hero dead." ¬ "Harry Potter lives, but yet to wake up." ¬ "Albus Dumbledore alive? Snape innocent?" ¬ "Arthur Weasley new Minister for Magic." ¬ "Minister questions the infamous Underground, a group supposedly essential in the downfall of You-Know-Who." ¬ "Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape members of the Underground: Minister calls Underground Death Eater Guerrillas." ¬ "Arrest warrants issued for Dumbledore-double, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape." ¬ "Granger gives impassioned speech on the wireless." ¬ "Reward set for the capture of Granger." ¬ "Minister bans Muggle-borns from wizarding society." ¬ "Family divided over Minister's controversial Muggle-born act. Only two sons remain on Minister's side: the rest of his children proclaim him mentally ill and in dire need of medical attention." ¬ "'Muggles are to blame for the rift spreading through wizarding society. They should look after themselves in future. We must segregate,' Minister tells the Prophet in an exclusive interview..."

Severus had seen enough. This seemed complete and utter nonsense. This couldn't be Arthur Weasley. Arthur, who had always been so fascinated by every Muggle artefact he could get his hands on. Why on earth would Arthur now ban Muggle-borns and blame Muggles? Was this an impostor? Maybe he was under the influence of a Death Eater, or the Imperius Curse or even a potion?

Severus needed to find out more, but the Daily Prophet, as usual, only regurgitated the same old stories. Hermione was wanted; Dumbledore wasn't real; he, Snape, was a criminal, et cetera, et cetera... He sighed. If only someone would come and talk to him. He felt completely out of the loop, but he was certain that people had better things to do and had no time to sit by his bedside and tell him stories. And rightfully so, Severus thought. He was a bit too old for bedtime stories, anyway.

"Severus!" A much wanted, and yet feared, voice interrupted his musings. "Merlin, Severus, I'm so glad you're awake!"

Something warm, soft, sweet smelling and bushy-haired hurled itself at him and sniffled into his chest. He took a deep breath, noticing how his heart seemed to feel heavier and lighter at the same time, took her by the arms, and gently pushed her away from him.

"Cut the dramatics, Miss Granger. I'm not dead quite yet."

"Oh, I was so scared. There was so much blood, and your heart..." She stopped in mid-sentence. "Miss Granger? Don't act up now, Severus." She wiped her eyes, sniffed in a very unladylike manner and glared at him.

He glared back, putting on his full annoyed-teacher routine. It didn't seem to impress her one bit.

"I knew you'd react this way, you stubborn git. I told you that you would, remember? But back then, you said you weren't a fool and wouldn't push me away. Now, live up to it." She tenderly cupped his cheek and kissed him on the lips. It was a long kiss. Long, tender, and sweet. It wasn't demanding, just loving and giving. Severus sighed into her mouth and returned in kind. He didn't think that he could have kept up the 'noble sacrifice' thing, anyway. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. She made him feel whole in a way nothing else ever had. And if she wanted to be with him a bit longer, he admitted to himself that he would rather take what he could get than deprive himself.

It wouldn't last. He was quite certain about that, and he didn't know how he'd deal with losing her when it would come to pass, but for now, he'd take the comfort she offered. It would be less painful in the long run to push her away now, certainly, but if he had learned something from all the mistakes he'd made, then it was this: you wouldn't know if you didn't try, and you couldn't feel if you didn't offer something of yourself in return. And so he offered himself and his dignity. He'd been humiliated before; he ought to be used to it by now. He'd bear it; he'd get over it eventually. He got over everything. Eventually.

In the meantime, Hermione had stopped kissing him and was studying him with a slight frown. She tried to enter his mind and induce the mental conversation they both had become so good at, but he Occluded. She narrowed her eyes.

"You don't believe me. You think that I'll leave you as soon as our lives return to normal, don't you?"

He looked stricken, feeling like an eleven-year-old student who'd been caught mid-mischief. He shrugged.

She smiled. "Severus, will you marry me?"

"What?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Of course not. You've lost your mind. You can't be certain about what you want. You're far too young..."

"Oh, stop it," she snarled. "Just stop it. Tell me, if I had decided that I wanted to marry Ron, would you have reacted the same way? Would anyone else? Or would everyone have found it wonderful? I wouldn't have been older or more mature, but I would have made a similar decision, so what's the difference?"

"I'm too old, too jaded..." He tried to camouflage the bundle of emotions, turmoil, love and need that was messing up the layers of his personality, with a mask of ice-cold disdain. He wasn't sure if he'd succeeded; his ice-cold glare didn't intimidate her in the least. She was glaring back and quite efficiently so. He felt slightly silly.

"Yeah, yeah, we've been through this before. I like you this way, you know. I. Love. You. There, I finally said it. There is no reason why I can't say it now. I can shout it from the rooftops, if I want to." She smiled and shook her head. "But you don't believe me; I see it in your eyes. I love you. I don't say that lightly, and you know it. I shall ask you again in a few days."

"And you think my answer will be any different?"

"It would make me very happy if it were. You know that I won't give up easily. Unless you look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want to be with me. Is that what you'll tell me, Severus?"

He scowled at her. She knew damned well that he couldn't tell her that. She had become an excellent Legilimens, after all, and even though she couldn't reach his mind directly, she could tell from a million little signs when he was lying. Like now. The Dark Lord, in his arrogance, would never have picked up these little signs because he'd never cared enough to know anyone at such an intimate level, but Hermione wasn't the Dark Lord. Thankfully. Severus sighed.

"You'll only have yourself to blame if this doesn't work out, you know."

"Is that a yes?"

"No."

"But it's not a no?"

"Yes."

"That's good enough for now." She beamed and kissed him again, passionately this time.

Oh, Merlin, how he wanted her. He felt his cock stirring, which was reassuring as that part of him had been rather passive since he had woken up. He kissed her back until they both moaned. Blushing and looking more than a bit dazed, Hermione freed herself from his arms and stood up, taking a deep breath.

"Now, since we know where we stand with each other, we can get back to work and start brainstorming. Wizarding Britain is in a mess and can't be allowed to remain that way." She was now stomping around the room, waving her arms and gesturing passionately, grumbling and huffing while she spoke. She was the most beautiful sight in the world. He had to push himself out of this mood, else he'd find himself making soppy declarations of love. This wouldn't do.

"I presume that your hero's welcome didn't quite turn out as expected," he drawled. The sneer on his face felt painful; his face seemed to have forgotten how to do it properly while he had been unconscious.

"Right," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. He expected her to stick her tongue out at him, but she only pursed her lips. "But that's not what's bothering me as you well know...since you know me so well." Her smile was cheeky, but didn't remain so for long. She frowned and exhaled noisily. "While I am a tad upset about it, there are worse things, you know. One of my main worries is the Underground. We've won the war, but we can't afford to let our people come out into the open."

"I read. But why?" For a moment, Severus lost his cool. He had protected those people for years; he had looked after them, and he had learned to care deeply for them. He was not going to allow anyone to threaten them. He felt the anger heating his cheeks.

Hermione nodded and looked back at him earnestly. "At first, when people started showing up who were believed to be dead, everyone was happy. But when Arthur was made minister, suspicions were voiced. We actually had to rescue a good part of our people and hide them again since they were about to be arrested. The few who belong to powerful families––too powerful for even Arthur to mess with––stayed around. Their identity isn't doubted by the public despite the Ministry's efforts to undermine them. We are in contact; they're carefully working on changing people's attitudes towards the Underground and us."

"But why? Why the Underground? Where are they?"

"Why? Because you, cruel and dangerous criminal that you are, didn't stop your unexpected altruism after rescuing only poor non-political victims. No, you had to go and rescue Slytherins and even Death Eaters as well. You had to change their worldview and reform them or help them to redeem themselves. Things like that can't be allowed, you know. That doesn't fit in with the convenient black-and-wide worldview of our kind. Or maybe I should say your kind since Muggle-borns are now pariahs." She almost spat the last sentence.

"I see," Severus whispered, stricken by her pain and moved by her passionate defence of the Underground...his Underground. "But what happened to our people? Where are they?"

"When the secret of the Underground's existence was revealed, Arthur wanted to see for himself how and where we'd lived, so we showed him the Appin cave. The students we had evacuated there before the battle would have recognized it, anyway, because we didn't put them through the security routine, and the secrecy contract for Appin had been lifted from all of us, anyway. We decided to give those caves up. We didn't reveal the other locations, though, or our modus operandi. We reopened the Creswell Crags caves since Lestrange and Pettigrew are dead, and you told us that none of the other Death Eaters knew its location. A contingent of our people are there now, organizing themselves and waiting for your command."

She looked at him with an odd smile and a glitter in her eyes that made him wonder if something was wrong with her...until he remembered that they had shared their first kiss in the Creswell Crags gorge. He swallowed and pushed that memory away, back into the memory vault where it belonged. If he'd been stronger, he'd have pounced uncharacteristically and unceremoniously. But they had work to do, and he was weak. What had she just said? His command?

"My command? What about Albus?"

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore merely serves as an advisor these days, if at all. He says that after having been as good as dead for so long, he feels that he shouldn't challenge the Fates. He wants to live out the rest of his days in peace and without meddling in worldly affairs."

Severus let out a barking laugh. "Right!"

"Yes." Hermione smirked. "I know... but he seems to be sticking to it. He's staying in the background, helping with the research, but he doesn't do much otherwise. The Underground really is waiting for you, Severus, and so am I. Won't you come back to us?" She had taken his hand, stroked his fingers gently with her thumb and smiled at him. He closed his eyes and tried to get the sneer back on his face. She was so hard to resist.

"I... I shall do what I can."

"And that is so much more than what most others can do," Hermione whispered with tears in her eyes. "I hate the idea that you still aren't respected, aren't celebrated as the hero you are. But the Underground knows... For all of us, you are the bravest man we've ever known, the true unsung hero of this war."

He raised an eyebrow. "As are you. You're so full of drama today."

"And what if I am? It hasn't been easy seeing you unconscious for so long, never knowing if you'd wake up, hoping with every short episode of consciousness, despairing when you became unconscious again. I feel dramatic, and I'd like to drag you to my lair and have my wicked way with you, but it's too early for that." She sighed and stroked the outline of his lips with her index finger.

He sighed, sucked her finger into his mouth and closed his eyes. She moaned softly, and he let her go. "Unfortunately, you are right."

"That's because I'm an insufferable know-it-all." She kissed him again, briefly, and stood up. "I'll go now. You need to rest. I'll be back tomorrow, love. Hurry up and get well quickly. Damn, I really would like to drag you to my lair right now." Her breathing was heavy, and she looked flushed as her eyes followed the contours of his body under the sheets.

This made him flush in return. "I wouldn't mind being taken advantage of soon," he said hoarsely. He cursed his weakness, but it couldn't be helped. "I won't be of much use to you in this state, though."

"Nonsense," she said, coming close once more. "I don't love you because you are of use, but because you're you. Try to get that into that stubborn head of yours. And now I really must go." A last kiss, and she was gone.

---

Time seemed to stand still, at least that was the impression Severus got while he wasn't allowed to leave his bed. Two weeks after he had woken up, he was finally allowed to take a few tentative steps.

Poppy and Albus stood at the side of his bed, wands in hand. Both were ready to step in and stabilize him if he should stumble and fall.

His knees were feeling as weak as if he were going on his first date. Sitting up alone caused him to breathe rapidly, as if he'd run around the Black Lake. His legs trembled when he took his first few steps. Were there any muscles in his legs left to carry his weight? Not that there was much weight; he was thinner than ever before despite Paulie's efforts at fattening him up like a porker.

"You're doing very well, Severus," Poppy said, interrupting his musings. "Now lie back down and don't overdo it. We'll do this again in a few hours, and in a couple days, you'll be able to walk around on your own, just wait and see."

Severus didn't want to wait. He wanted to see, but he didn't have a choice. He didn't want to injure himself further by getting up and exercising when no one was around. He suspected that they were monitoring him without his knowledge. He didn't believe for a moment that Albus would have given up his meddling enough to not want to be aware of what everyone around him was doing. So it was better not to make a complete idiot of himself and obey whatever Pomfrey said, and that meant staying in bed most of the time.

Hermione had turned out to be more of a distraction and less of a helpful companion. She seemed to react to his slightest touch and take it as encouragement to wind herself around him like a vine and kiss every part of his bare skin she could reach. It took all of his resolve to not give in to the temptation. Maybe he should, he thought, then she'd see what it would be like to be with a man so much older than herself and feeble, but when he had suggested it to her, she had only laughed and kissed him again, stating that she didn't have a problem with waiting for her injured hero a bit longer.

She came visiting every day and chatted away, laughing when he was sarcastic, chiding when he was grumpy and offering compassion when he felt depressed. And she asked him The Question every day, without fail. Nevertheless, he didn't quite know what she wanted. They couldn't pick up their relationship from before the battle and act as if nothing had happened, could they? Nundu and Nightshade had been a couple; Severus and Hermione were different people. Unlike their pseudonyms, the latter two came with baggage, backgrounds, and a less than pleasant history in his case. He really didn't know what to do. He wished that he was strong enough to follow his impulses and snog her senseless, take her to bed and shag her out of her mind. But it was still too early for that.

Then there was the little issue of the saviour of wizard kind who wouldn't wake up. Albus and Hermione were immersed in research, and Severus had promised to look through several old volumes of 'Magicks and Legends: Forgotten Spells Most Eville and Benevolente'. That entire sacrifice and resurrection thing could be traced back to Lily Potter's blood sacrifice, and that had been a very ancient spell. Hermione had brought all of the books Lily had left in her reading nest in the Room of Requirement. With a bit of luck, they should be able to find out where she had learned about that protective magic. Albus, who had sealed the sacrifice and protection after her death, had vague recollections of books he'd read in his youth, books that might even have been in his private library, but he couldn't find them. Severus held the nagging suspicion that Lily, probably with the help of her Marauder friends, had stolen those books from Dumbledore's library.

But be that as it may, Potter lay in a coma, the wizarding world had gone crazy, and they all needed to get to work and resolve the mess Arthur Weasley had caused after taking office. In due course, Severus learned that Arthur had never forgiven Severus and the Underground for saving so many people while Molly had been doomed. It seemed Arthur was convinced that Severus could have saved her if he had wanted to. The fact that Molly hadn't been rescued told Arthur that Severus was nothing but a Death Eater in sheep's clothing and couldn't be trusted. And his opinion was weighty enough to poison the minds of the less discerning among wizard kind, and that was most of wizard kind. They had to wake Potter as soon as possible. How they should go about that, however, Severus didn't know.