Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Severus paced the Entrance Hall impatiently. They had searched the grounds, but still had found no sign of Jessica. He silently prayed to whatever gods were listening that whomever had taken his daughter had not left the castle.

He hadn't thought it possible to care about someone as much as he had grown to care for Jessica. She was his whole world now, and he didn't know how he felt about that. He knew that in many ways, he was still the same that he had always been. He didn't like the students, and he barely tolerated his fellow staff members; yet, somehow, Jessica had found her way into his heart.

He only hoped that she was all right, that he would have a chance to tell her how much she meant to him.

"Professor Snape," someone called his name. He knew that voice. His eyes narrowed to angry slits as he turned to see his daughter walking merrily hand in hand with Blaise Zabini. His wand was out and pointed at his ex-student before Zabini had taken one more step.

"Severus?" Jessie said softly, a small trace of fear in her voice.

Good, Severus thought, the girl could do with a good dose of fear.

"Jessica," Severus said, his voice clear, too controlled. Fury was radiating off him in angry waves, but he couldn't help the wave of relief that washed through him when he saw that she was unharmed. "Come over here."

The young girl looked nervously between the two wizards before slipping her hand from Zabini's and walking quickly to Severus. She stood just behind him, nibbled on her lip, and wrung her hands nervously. Zabini was looking carefully at Severus, who was trying to remember just why it wouldn't be a good idea to kill Zabini right then and there.

"Get out." There was no mistaking the threat in the command.

Zabini kept his hands in clear view as he walked around Severus and Jessica, never turning his back on the pair. When he slipped through the doors to the outside, Severus grabbed Jessica's hand and led her quickly down to their living quarters.

As the door shut behind them, Severus finally let go of Jessica's hand, refusing to look at her. He was angrier than he'd ever thought he could be. Even with everything that he had lived through, he had never felt the kind of fear that had coursed through him that night.

"Severus?" Jessie called out very softly, her voice trembling slightly. He finally looked at her. She was worrying her bottom lip, and there were tears in her eyes.

"We will not discuss this tonight. You are to go to bed, and we will discuss what happened in the morning." His voice was too calm, too controlled, and he was nearly shaking with anger.

"You're not going to send me back, are you?" she asked in a small voice.

He felt a tug at his heart at her question, but refused to feel guilty. She needed to learn that he would not tolerate such a blatant display of disrespect from her. "No," he answered simply. "Go to bed."

Only after she had gone did Severus realize that his hand was still wrapped around his wand in a death grip.

* * *

Hermione sat next to the bed Mark was sitting up in at St. Mungo's Hospital. It was early in the morning, but Mark did not look rested in the least. She was telling him about the delightful seven-year-old she'd shared sundaes with the day before. Mark tried to laugh but began coughing, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Hermione sucked in a breath as she pulled a handkerchief out and wiped the blood away, careful to keep her emotions under control for Mark's sake.

Rubbing a hand over his head, she said, "You're going to get better. I promise." Her voice was soft, and there was more emotion in it than she cared to admit.

"I know," Mark said softly.

"There are a lot of people looking for a cure for you," she told him with a small, sad smile.

"Thank you, H'mione." Mark yawned. There were dark circles under his eyes, harsh against the paleness of his skin.

He had never been able to experience the sunlight. But beyond that, even when the sun was set and the moon high, Mark could not spend more than a handful of minutes outside. He had essentially been deprived of the natural world his entire life. When his parents had been alive and Hermione had been home, she'd baby sit him, and it was so hard for her to have to keep him confined to his room when all he wanted to do was go outside and play like the other children in the neighborhood.

Hermione was drawn from her thoughts and looked over as one of the mediwizards walked into the small room.

"Miss Granger?" he asked as his fingers played over the edge of a file.

She nodded once.

"I'm Healer Summers. May I speak with you?" He glanced over at Mark, who was nearly asleep, and added, "In my office?"

"Yes, all right." Hermione smiled at Mark. "I'll be back next week, I promise." She kissed his forehead and left the room with the mediwizard.

As Hermione followed Healer Summers into his office, her eyes swept across the room. The walls were bare of any pretentious medical awards or certificates; instead there were dozens of drawings of dragons, fairies, and other magical creatures covering most of the space.

There were two pictures on his desk. One was of him and a very pretty blonde witch on what appeared to be their wedding day. They danced around and kissed, and there was a light in their eyes that Hermione found herself immediately jealous of.

The second picture was of three children of varying ages. They nudged each other and laughed, and glared and stuck their tongues out at one another. Hermione thought that they looked like they were very close to one another, the way family should be. Her heart broke a bit because a part of her knew that she would never have that; who would want a bushy-haired know-it-all with too much compassion and brains, but not enough common sense?

"If I may," the Healer interrupted her musings, "I'd like to go over some of the aspects of Mark's case."

Hermione nodded and said, "That's fine, but what happened to Healer Willoughby?"

"Ah, I understand that Healer Willoughby has been Mark's Healer his whole life; however, I specialize in rare illnesses such as the one Mark suffers from. Considering the advanced research you've requested, Healer Willoughby requested that I take over for now, though he is staying apprised."

"I see," Hermione said as she sat down. "And what would you like to discuss with me now?"

Hermione watched the way the Healer seemed hesitant to look her in her eyes, how he rotated the file in his hands almost nervously. It didn't put her at ease, but neither was she ignorant of Mark's condition. She knew his odds of surviving were near to none considering the severity of the disease.

His eyes finally raised, locked on hers. "There's truly no way to put this delicately, Miss Granger. Mark's condition is deteriorating, quickly. I'm terribly sorry."

Hermione shook her head, held back her tears. "No, I understand. I've known it since I first researched his condition."

There was a kind understanding in his eyes. "We both know that grasping the severity of the situation doesn't make it any easier to cope with."

Shrugging a shoulder, Hermione tried to blink the moisture out of her eyes. "I love Mark, dearly, and I'm not going to give up hope. Some of the most brilliant minds are working toward finding a cure, or at least a treatment. There's still time," she said earnestly.

"I don't want you to give up hope," Healer Summers said softly, his eyes downcast as he sifted through some papers. "I want you to be prepared if they're unable to discover it before it's too late for Mark."

He held out a sheet of paper to her. Taking it, her eyes moved over the words on the page with a kind of numbness. Her stomach turned to ice at the list of grief counselors. "Don't you think this is a little premature?" she asked in a cold voice.

Healer Summers held his hands up in defense. "I'm not trying to upset you, Miss Granger. They aren't only for you. Several of them specialize in assisting terminal patients cope with knowing death is around the corner for them. It's tragic, and every time one of my patients dies, I suffer, too. I chose this profession because I truly care about people, about making a difference in their lives. I want a cure for Mark, too, but we can't turn a blind eye to the fact that there might not be one found in time."

A tear fell silently down Hermione's cheek, and she wiped it away stubbornly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Mark is like a little brother to me. His entire life the Healers told his parents that due to the extent of his illness that he wouldn't live past five years old. He's almost seven now. He's strong; he can beat this."

Her mouth set in a firm line, and she repeated, "He can beat this."

* * *

Severus heard when Jessica got up because he'd been listening for it. He'd had to wait twenty minutes before she finally emerged, looking as though she'd only just rolled out of bed. There were circles under her eyes, and she was biting her thumb nail nervously. It was a bad habit he thought they'd have to work on breaking her of.

"Good morning, Severus," she said tentatively, her eyes and voice full of fear and worry.

There was a twitch in his cheek as he warred with anger, relief, and pure frustration. "Sit down," he ordered, motioning to the chair across from him.

Jessica sat, folding her hands in her lap, though he noticed they didn't stay motionless. She rubbed and pulled at the fingers of her left hand nervously and seemed to be incapable of looking him in the eye. He knew that he could not treat her as he would a student; their relationship was completely different. He just didn't know how he was supposed to handle this situation, and a night of thinking about it hadn't enlightened him, either.

"Why did you leave our rooms last night?" Severus asked, deciding that getting her side of the story before dishing out punishment would be reasonable. Besides, now that he'd had a little bit of time to cool off, he was dreadfully curious.

"I needed to send a letter," Jessica admitted in a small voice, her eyes downcast, a light tint of shame coloring her cheeks.

"To whom?"

Jessica raised her hand to her mouth and bit her nails nervously, though she didn't seem to realize she was doing it at all.

"Stop that right now," Severus demanded, impatience making it sound harsher than he'd intended. Her eyes were wide when they met his, and she dropped her hand immediately. "It's a terrible habit, one you will not continue."

"Yes, Severus," she said meekly. "I was sending a letter to Molly."

Severus raised an eyebrow. He'd had no idea whom Jessica would be sending a letter to, but he hadn't even considered Molly, though she should have been his first thought. She was, after all, taking care of Jessica's little sister. "I see," he said, nodding once. "And what were you writing her about?"

Jessica nibbled on her lower lip for a moment before saying, "To tell Maria that I love her and miss her, and that I don't want to wait till Christmas to see her. And about Hermione, too."

If she was writing to Molly, Severus imagined that was exactly what it would be about...except the Hermione part. "What about Miss Granger?" he asked, unable to ignore his curiosity.

"Well, she told me that I would like Hermione a lot, so I wanted to tell her that she was right and that me and Hermione had ice cream sundaes and that she's really nice," Jessica explained. Severus couldn't detect any dishonesty in her words, but he couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't being entirely truthful. With a mental sigh, he told himself to stop being so paranoid; she was just a seven-year-old little girl.

"I see. Jessica, why did you think you had to sneak out in the middle of the night to post your letter?" Severus asked, trying to lead into the discipline portion of their conversation.

"I didn't think you'd like me writing to Molly," she admitted with a sad look in her eyes.

"Jessica," Severus said, urging her to focus on him. "It is okay for you to write to Molly and Maria. It is not okay for you to do so secretly or to wander the castle alone, especially at night. Do you understand?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes, sir," she said respectfully, and it sounded like she meant it.

"Good. Now, you'll be grounded for the rest of the day."

Her mouth fell open and tears filled her eyes. "But Melanie is having a picnic today! You said I could go!"

"Actions have consequences, Jessica. When you did something you knew was wrong, your privilege was revoked. If you behave, you'll be able to go to the next one," Severus explained calmly.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, looking down with a pout.

"Now, tell me what happened after you sent your letter off." He needed to know what had transpired between his daughter and Blaise Zabini, and he knew that if Jessica lied to him, he would be able to tell.

"Well, after I sent the letter, I left the Owlery, and that's when I saw the man standing there and screamed..." She launched into a detailed description of her encounter with Blaise Zabini, and Severus only grew more furious with his past student.

Blaise Zabini was a problem that would have to be resolved. Soon.

* * *

A/N: Well, everyone, it's been just over two years since I last updated this, and I'm very sorry it's taken me so long to get back into it. I'd like to reassure all of you that, yes, I am back. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented in the past two years to let me know that there were still people interested in this little story.

Thank you to SW69 for being a wonderful last-minute beta for this chapter!

Review! Let me know what you think of this chapter, what you think might come next!