Chapter 6

And so they sat together silently on a bed of blankets, warmed by the fire and each other, until finally they fell into a restless sleep. And if Hermione noticed that Severus was trembling as he held her, she never said a word.

Apparating to the end of a long cobbled street lined with row houses, Hermione clutched her wand in one hand and a large brass key in the other. Severus had painstakingly described not only his home's location, but the array of enchantments protecting his house and his laboratory. Reluctantly, he'd described the nearly abandoned street and the ramshackle houses that ran its length. Hermione was confused by his reticence. He'd seemed uncomfortable with the thought of her seeing his house on Spinner's End, though she only had her suspicions as to why. Walking down the deserted road this morning, she could imagine Severus growing up on this street, an awkward wizard boy in a tough neighbourhood. I wonder if his memories of this place make him uncomfortable. It didn't sound like he had much of a childhood, or that his adult memories from here would be any better.

His house was as ramshackle as the road. The salon, when she entered, was dark and musty; the books lining the walls were shrouded behind what seemed like a layer of fog. Hermione knew that these shelves did not contain the important or rare volumes; those were shelved below, in an annex to his laboratory. Moving quickly, she found the basement door and, with the proper incantation, released the protective enchantments. The laboratory was expansive and well-equipped. He must have spent his time down here, she thought, looking around at the well-organised space and the comfortable couch and table tucked into one corner. Using the list that Severus supplied, Hermione gathered the materials that he needed for his examination of what they referred to as 'their' potion.

Finally, she entered the adjacent room in search of the books that Severus needed. Despite her best efforts, Severus continued to be cagey about his theories regarding the amethyst potion. Unwilling to discuss the possible meaning of its dual purpose, he withdrew and became irritable when she pressed him. There is obviously something worrying him about this potion.... Why is he so worried about telling me what he's concerned about?

But, Hermione knew Severus Snape was not a man to be moved when he had his mind made up. She would have to wait; in good time, she would know his analysis of the potion that the Adfinitas Animarum produced. I've never heard of a potion appearing by magic... it's as if the book brewed it for us.

Consulting her list, she methodically searched the shelves for the ancient tomes that Severus insisted would be impossible to find elsewhere. I could spend ages examining these books... the ones upstairs, too... she thought wistfully. She looked around for one final moment. If all goes well, I will have time enough to examine Severus' library... if all goes well.

***

He was busy examining a steaming cauldron when she arrived that night. I guess the transfer worked. She approached in silence, recognising his severe expression of arch disapproval. That's the look he gets when a student has been recalcitrant... I never imagined that he would favour a potion with that look.

Smiling to herself, Hermione curled into a nearby chair and observed him at work, entranced by the ease and precision of his movements. He is a scientist... and an artist... a scholar... Her thoughts were interrupted by a brilliant flash of light emitting from his wand, followed by a grunt of satisfaction as the potion in question turned the proper shade of olive and the smell of cut greens wafted from its surface. ...and a powerful, talented wizard.

He looked up at her, a satisfied expression on his face. She rose to greet him as he approached her, and his fierce embrace held a touch of the apprehension that she had felt from him the previous night. She pulled back to look at his face, but it showed none of the tension that she felt in his embrace.

"You're making progress?" she asked, inclining her head towards the lab table and its steaming cauldron.

"Indeed," he replied. "I have done all I can for today. I've been successful in isolating the ingredients of the original potion and believe that I have determined the composition of the component that will release my soul from... here." He waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing surprising. Mandrake, belladonna, and willow leaves in a base of calendula."

"Then why are you so tense, Severus?" she asked, unwilling to ignore the buzz of anxiety that surrounded him.

He glanced at her sharply and, after a moment, opened his hands in defeat. "I am concerned about the second component of the potion. There are some ingredients that I have identified that baffle me... I'm not sure why they are necessary for a potion that reunites a soul with a body, though I suppose that since I've not come across a potion that serves this purpose, I couldn't say how it should be constructed. But still, theoretically, I don't understand...." He shook his head.

"What ingredients bother you so much?" asked Hermione, walking to the lab bench to see what he was working on. For a moment, she thought that he would refuse to answer, but then he strode to the bench and gestured with an elegant hand.

"Jobberknoll feathers, henbane, cassia, lavender essence, datura..." he trailed off, watching Hermione to see if she saw the relationship between the ingredients.

She wrinkled her brow, thinking about potions that utilised those ingredients. She gasped and looked up sharply. "They are all used in serums that either force the drinker to tell the truth or in potions that uncover or force revelation," she whispered.

He nodded. "I don't understand why these elements are necessary for a potion such as this, though I hope to have the answer tomorrow." He gestured to a second cauldron that was bubbling further down the lab bench. "I also do not yet understand how to administer the potion – and to whom."

"To whom?" she asked.

He nodded. "It is possible, Hermione, that we will both have to drink this potion in order for it to work..." he looked sickened at the thought "...and that will not happen unless I am certain how it works and what it will do. I will spend tomorrow examining the possibilities." He shook his head, and murmured, "I will not put you at risk, Hermione, not for my sake."

She moved closer and reached for his hand, cradling it between her own. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Severus. We will get through this together; we must do this together. As for the potion, you will figure it out, I know you will." His lips moved into the semblance of a smile as he turned his hand to caress hers.

"I hope so, Hermione," he said softly and took a breath as if he was about to say more.

She waited, but he did not continue. Instead, he turned to clean his work area and then, with a wordless gesture, reached for her arm to guide her to their bedroom. She followed him without a sound, the silence wrapping around them like a bubble, holding and cushioning them from the fears and uncertainties outside. In wordless accord, they slowly undressed one another in the candlelit room, feather light touches sanctifying soft skin.

Under the shield of soft blankets, their kisses grew more heated, caresses more intent. Wrapped in one another, they moved together fiercely, drinking in every touch, every taste, every gasp. Their soft moans of pleasure fell like rain into the warm silence of the room, only their tears revealing unspoken worry about tomorrow.

***

The Wellington Hospital was as different in tone from St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as a Hippogriff from a Bowtruckle. While superficially similar in its whitewashed walls and bustling staff, missing were the hordes of frantic men, women and children rushing the welcome witch, demanding care for their cauldron burns, Transfigured body parts or splinched limbs. Instead, the quiet entry with its vaulted ceiling suggested a sombre sort of care where patients were decorous and patient and waited their turn for attention. This is a private hospital, Hermione realised. Who is paying for his care?

Hermione had given a great deal of thought to the dilemma of how to retrieve Severus from the halls of this hospital. While she was unconcerned about how to get Severus out – Side-Along Apparition seeming like a reasonable option, she was not sure that the layers of bureaucracy in the average British hospital would allow a young woman to simply waltz in and request the room numbers of all unidentified male patients who had been admitted over the last six years.

I hate to use magic on unsuspecting Muggles, she thought to herself, but I really have no alternative. After discarding several options meant to either persuade the admitting office that she was a long-lost relative or that she should have access to their filing system, Hermione decided that magic was, all things considered, the most efficient and least disruptive of her choices. A mild Confundus should do the trick, she thought to herself. The first step is to find him and to ascertain his physical condition. If he is healthy enough to move, I can just... take him... when the nurses are out of his room.

Clutching the sheaf of papers in one hand that she intended to use to Conjure Severus' "release documents" and her wand discreetly in her other hand, Hermione approached the administration desk, a smile pasted on her face.

"Good morning," she said to the dour woman behind the counter. As the woman looked up, Hermione lifted her wand and silently cast Confundo. The woman's eyes took on a glazed expression as she looked at Hermione.

"How can I help you?" she said, speech slightly slurred.

"I am here to discharge a patient," Hermione began. "You will look through your computer records and give me the status of all currently hospitalised male patients who were admitted to the hospital without identification over the last six years."

The woman nodded and lowered her eyes to her computer screen. "There are only two who are still in hospital," she muttered. "One is in a coma on the fifth floor and the other is in the rehabilitation unit on the fourth floor." She turned to the papers on her desk and began shuffling them listlessly.

Hermione leaned over and spotted a document that had the word "Discharge" across the top. "Please hand me that document," she asked briskly. The woman handed her the paper, not looking up for more than a moment. Hermione quickly scanned the page, noting its layout, and handed it back. Turning away, she tapped her sheaf of papers with her wand and muttered, Effingo, and Discharge papers for one "John Doe" materialised on the blank paper. Turning long enough to point her wand and mutter Finite, Hermione scanned the hallway to find the nearest lift.

Exiting at the fourth floor, she ducked into an alcove and pulled out her wand. Point Me, she muttered. Her wand swung around, pointing to the right. Tapping her wand on her head, she Disillusioned herself and set out down the hall.

Fortunately for her, the nurses were gathered around the nurse's station giving report before they changed shifts. The halls were empty and her trainers were silent as she made her way down the corridor. Room after room revealed men who were decidedly Not-Severus. Frustrated and afraid that she was running out of time, Hermione ducked her head into a room at the end of the hallway. Let him be here.... As she took in the contents of the space, Hermione let out the breath that she didn't realise she was holding. Alone in the small, spare room, sitting stiffly in a chair, was Severus Snape.

***

Hermione froze, unable to look away from the man in the chair. Oh, Severus.... He was gaunt, like a man who had no appetite, but ate what was given to him. The light blue pullover and dark slacks he wore did nothing for his complexion. Skin pale and dull, he seemed to have not seen much of the sun in months. He was breathing steadily, obviously calm, but his body language and facial expression were vacant.

Cancelling the Disillusionment Charm and approaching his chair, Hermione reached out a hand to touch his, reassured by its warmth. She crouched next to him and spoke softly, "I'm here now, Severus... I'm here to take you home." She stroked his hand gently though she knew he could not respond. "I am going to try to find out who brought you here, and then I will take you with me... away from here."

The silent man continued to stare blankly, and silently thanking the thoroughness of her Healer training, Hermione drew out her wand, wordlessly casting diagnostic spells that sent shafts of light and spinning figures into the air around him. She breathed a sigh of relief. "You are healthy, Severus. I have no idea how that happened, no idea who rescued you from the shack and healed that bite, but you are physically... fine." She was giddy with relief. "I want to see you whole... healthy in body and spirit," she whispered, unbidden tears rising to her eyes.

Reaching out to briefly stroke his cheek, Hermione turned to find his nurse entering the room.

"Who are you?" she asked, abruptly. Quickly, Hermione muttered Confundo as she approached the woman with the discharge papers she had copied. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I am here to transport this patient to his new home," she said with the confidence of someone who had spent many hours working in a hospital. "He's a John Doe, right?" she asked offhandedly.

"He is," the nurse answered with a distracted expression, grasping the discharge papers in her hands. "He was apparently brought into the Emergency Ward by a Good Samaritan oh, about six years ago," she said, looking through the admission summary in his chart. "The nurses were all aflutter at the time, I remember that day, actually, because the man who brought him in was quite the looker. Take-charge type, too. Blond, aristocratic. Apparently, he pays for his care as well," she added, managing to look impressed despite the slightly unfocussed look in her eyes.

Malfoy? "Um, do you happen to remember how old that man was, the one who brought him in?" Hermione asked, grateful that the nurse was too Confunded to wonder why Hermione cared.

"Ooh, fairly young, around your age, I'd guess," she replied. "Fine-looking lad, but wouldn't stick around long – only to set up payment and to be sure that the patient would be adequately cared for."

Hermione nodded, distracted by the revelation. Malfoy saved him. Draco – he must have found him in the shack before we returned to collect his body. I wonder why he didn't bring him to St Mungo's... and what he did that saved his life after that awful bite....

"What sort of condition was he in when he was brought in?" Hermione asked abruptly.

The nurse fumbled with the pages of his chart to find the admission summary. "He was in bad shape, but nobody could figure out why. He had an old scar on his neck, looked like a bite of some kind." She read further, "a bit anaemic." She shook her head. "The most remarkable symptom that he had was that he was completely unresponsive. It says here that if you stood him up, he would walk, if you sat him down he would sit, put food in front of him, he'd eat. Same as now. But it was like nobody was there... inside," she stopped, closing the chart and looking confused again for an instant.

"Well, I suppose we should be going, then," Hermione said abruptly, taking the nurse's arm and guiding her from the room. "I'll take care of collecting his things and escorting him out," she continued, the nurse nodding, eyes glazed.

"Yes, that sounds fine. You do that," she muttered.

Hermione breathed deeply to steady herself as the nurse ambled back up the corridor and quickly closed the door behind her. Mind reeling from her discoveries, Hermione took a moment to think. Malfoy found him, healed him, and moved him. But I can't think about that now... now I have to stay focussed. She had prepared for this moment, knew exactly where she would be taking Severus. Her small flat had been prepared for an additional occupant, and while her stomach clenched with anxiety, she was ready.

Standing him up slowly and wrapping her arms around Severus' thin shoulders, she whispered in his ear, "It's time to go home, Severus," and Apparated them both from the room.

***

Hermione's flat was small, but comfortable. In the tradition of University students everywhere, she had furnished her flat with the gifts and hand-me-downs of friends and family. Though no longer a student, she had not spared time or energy to update her décor. Despite the motley collection of items, Hermione had managed to create a warm space that comforted her each night when she returned home. Lately, my bed is the most appealing place in the flat... It's the pathway to Severus. Accordingly, she took Severus gently by the arm and guided him to her bedroom. Though she knew that the man she had in her care was only the shell of the man she loved, she spoke to him in an ongoing dialogue, in case he had retained a modicum of awareness of his surroundings.

"I hope that being in a new place doesn't distress you, Severus. I just couldn't wait... couldn't leave you there one more moment once I knew where to find you." She guided him firmly to her bed and considered what to do. "It might seem strange to you, Severus, but I think that you should sleep in my bed... I will leave you in your clothes, they look comfortable enough." She bit her lip as she thought for a moment. "I think it will be okay for me to sleep next to you... I hope you won't be angry... I'm going to be seeing you when I fall asleep, and it would be nice to wake up with you next to me, even if it's like this...."

Gently, she guided the dark man to the bed, helping him to position himself for the night. Immediately, he closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep. Changing quickly into nightclothes, Hermione slipped into the bed next to him, laying her hand gently on his shoulder and, within minutes, was fast asleep.