Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Twenty days, eleven hours, fifteen minutes and counting...

"Severus still working?" her mother asked, looking up when Hermione opened the library door. It was late, high time for bed, but Hermione needed to wind down before she tried to sleep. As did everyone else, judging by the presence of all the manor's human residents. Everyone except her workaholic husband. Not that she was much better...

She dragged her tired feet over to the sofa and sat down beside her mum, lips twitching in what she hoped was a smile. "He's just finishing up. I'll dig him out on the way to bed if he doesn't appear soon."

Her father spoke from behind a dragonhide-bound, hand-written manuscript of Beedle the Bard. "Just as well there's, what, twenty-two days left at the most? Or he'd work himself into an early grave."

"Surely he doesn't need to work quite so hard? Now that there is a cure, he could share the burden more with other potioneers. Or whatever it is you call potion makers." Her mother looked pointedly at Hermione. "That goes for you too, young lady."

"You should've seen him when he was still coming up with the cure." Hermione sighed and dropped her head back against the cushions. "He has delegated as much of the workload as he can. But the cure's even more complex than the last one. There's just not enough people who can make it. I can only assist him, I can't actually make any by myself."

Lucius closed his book with a snap and looked up sharply. "Is enough of the cure being made?"

"There will be. Part of the reason Severus – and every other qualified brewer – is working so hard is that they refuse to do an Umbridge. We can't let any more Muggle-born babies die if we can help it."

"Good to know my work as Muggle-born Liaison is not for nothing," Lucius muttered. "Even if I'm of no use otherwise."

That made her father put his book aside. "At least that will be of use in the future. We Muggles can only look on as helpless bystanders, so I wouldn't complain too much about being useless."

Lucius bristled, lips curling back. Before any more angry words could be exchanged, Hermione hurriedly intervened. "None of you are useless. Even if you can't contribute directly to making the cure, you are helping by being here. I'm sure Severus appreciates your support. I know I do."

"It's not enough," her father muttered while Lucius and her mother avoided her eyes.

"I know! Even Severus feels that way, what with there being no guarantee that the cure will actually work." Her mother flinched beside her. 'Great job, Hermione. Very tactful.' She inched closer and gave her mum a one-armed hug. "Sorry. I just get..."

"Frustrated." Severus's voice came from the open doorway. She cringed even more. With any luck he knew she'd been trying to defend him and not to express doubt. Or her careful control, down to her thoughts until now – her mantra of 'can't think that' – would be for nothing.

"Understandably so." His gaze shifted from Hermione to her mother, then settled on her father. "While there are no guarantees in life, everything possible is being done to make sure this cure works. Only the limited supply of samples of the active plague keep me from having Hermione check that it still works more than once per day."

"Presumably there is no danger, as Hermione is healthy other than being under stress, but are you certain it's safe for her to be near that live plague in her blood sample?" Lucius asked, leaning forward as he waited for Severus to respond.

"Funnily enough, the thought did cross my mind before I had her go near it last month. The plague hidden within her seems to 'protect' her from fresh infection."

"But how could you be sure? You risked..."

"I was as sure as I could be of anything. As if I would put her at risk if there was anything I could do to prevent it!" Severus snarled, stalking towards Lucius, who stood up, arms crossed.

Before they could end up nose-to-nose, shouting at each other – in front of her parents! – Hermione darted between them, her palms resting against Severus's chest as he halted rather than push her.

"We're all under a lot of stress. Why don't we call it a night?" She held Severus's incensed stare, silently pleading with him to drop it.

"Feels like bedtime to me," her father said. She didn't dare break eye contact to look at him, as the heat in Severus's eyes slowly subsided and his muscles under her hands relaxed.

"Yes, it does!" her mother agreed, false cheer in her voice. "Before things get out of hand. Blood must be so hard to get out of the carpet."

Hermione flinched, remembering another carpet in the manor that had soaked up her blood. Bellatrix hadn't only threatened her with that knife, although the Cruciatus had been the worst.

The last of Severus's bad temper disappeared, replaced by concern. A questioning frown creased his brow as he put his hands on her shoulders. Hopefully her parents didn't realise anything was wrong. That she'd been tortured was something she never wanted them to know.

To her relief, her parents murmured their goodnights and left. Lucius did the same, squeezing her shoulder on the way past. Of course he already knew. He'd been there, watching impassively. But if he were to see it now, with the changes she'd seen in him, would anything change... No. Of course it wouldn't. Not with his family to suffer if he didn't toe the line.

"Well?" Severus prompted, wrapping his arms around her as if it could protect her from what had already happened.

"Bellatrix. She liked to play around with knives. But Cruciatus was the worst of it, really."

'If recalling that doesn't cause nightmares I don't know what will. At least now I'll compete with Severus in causing interrupted sleep in our bed... Maybe we should treat ourselves to a dose of Dreamless Sleep for once?'

* * *

Eleven days, one hour and counting...

'Right. That's the third owl you've ignored, Ron. No more. Even if I don't know where you live now – not even whom you married – your dad will.'

She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and flung it into the fireplace. Kneeling down, she cried "The Burrow!" and stuck her head into the green flames. She closed her eyes against the disorientating rushing sensation until it stopped. Once she opened them, she could see the kitchen and the occupants sitting at the table.

"Morning, Mr Weasley, A-Andromeda..." 'She's not Bellatrix, no fainting. You don't want to fall flat on your face in their fireplace.' "Do you know where Ron is..."

Mr Weasley pushed away from the table and stood so that she could see behind where he'd been sitting. Ron waved mutely from where he was stuffing his face with his elevenses. Someone must have finally drilled it into him not to talk with his mouth full. Perhaps he didn't want to risk finding out if Andromeda was anything like the sister she resembled so much.

"We'll leave you to it, Hermione," Mr Weasley said, after exchanging a meaningful glance with Andromeda. She nodded and walked over to where Teddy sat in his high chair, picking him up. "Let's go for a walk."

Teddy gurgled, his eyes glued to Hermione, his hair matching the flames her head floated in. She must be quite the novelty for him; presumably he hadn't seen many floating heads in the fireplace.

Andromeda turned back just before she left through the open front door. "And Hermione, do spare your knees and come through."

Hermione did as prompted, wincing as her knees protested. 'Idiot.' She'd forgotten to cast a Cushioning Charm. She staggered over to the table and sat down across from Ron.

"Ron. So kind of you to return my owls."

He swallowed his mouthful before speaking. Good heavens, he really had finally discovered his manners. "What owls? I haven't heard anything from you since Harry's wedding. You're the one who ignored my wedding invitation."

She frowned. "I didn't get one. I don't even know whom you married, let alone when."

"Lavender, beginning of August. She'd already married Seamus. I was lucky her scars from Greyback put everyone else off. And I sent the invite myself, so don't you dare blame Lav."

"Did I say anything?"

"No, but I know you don't like Lav..."

"Not much, no, but I don't hate her. I saved her neck from Greyback, remember?"

"Yeah, thanks for that. Otherwise I'd be locked up for not being married. No one else would have me," he spat bitterly. "Bet Malfoy or Snape made sure you didn't get the invitation."

"Don't bring them into this," she snapped. "If anything, the owl you sent never arrived. Did you send Pig? Or Errol?"

"Hey! Pig's never failed to deliver anything."

"Lucius has an aviary, which includes an owlery. I don't think his owls would appreciate having Pig around."

"So it was Malfoy's fault!"

Hermione narrowly resisted the urge to drop her head down onto the table. "The point is that I didn't get your invitation. I didn't come here to pick a fight with you, Ron. There's nine days until the plague attacks me again. I wanted to make peace with you. To be friends again."

Ron looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh. Okay. That's... that's good. But, er. Well, um, Snape's made a cure, right? Harry said so, and the Prophet the other day. I mean, you're not going to die or anything?" He looked back at her with wide, pleading eyes. No doubt concerned about her, but thoughts of Ginny and Lavender had to be paramount. Or should be.

She hesitantly reached over to pat his hand. "He has. It should work."

"Should?" If anything, Ron looked even more worried.

"As far as we know, it will. It all depends on the plague hidden within me and every other witch mutating in the same way as isolated samples. We know for sure that the new cure works on those samples, despite the plague in them still mutating as the cure adapts, but until the plague strikes again we can't be certain."

"Oh." Ron frowned. "So it's a bit like chess where one of the players has an invisible queen that only appears when it checks the opposing king?"

"I guess... Just to be completely honest, there's a chance it could be checkmate."

Ron turned his hand so that he could grip hers. "Snape did it before. He'll do it again. I don't like him, but I do trust him when it comes to potions." He released her hand to wave at her. "And you look, well, you look like hell, but Lav looks a bit like that too. He's treating you right?"

She stiffened. 'Don't bite his head off. He's not saying that Severus is mistreating me. He's not. He even said that Lavender doesn't look too good either.'

"Of course. He looks no better, I assure you. We're all under stress at the moment. You don't exactly look full of the joys of spring either, even if your appetite isn't affected."

"Oh, good. I mean, bad. I mean... Oi! I only picked at breakfast this morning."

"I'm not criticising you, Ron. It's a good thing if you can eat as normal. Although normal seems to actually include some manners now. Lavender finally taught you, or was it Andromeda?"

Ron's face fell. "No. It was you. Back before the plague. Lav's great and all, more my kind of girl now, never calls me Won-Won, but... she's not you. I like her, I think I'll love her, it's just... you'll always be the one that got away." He reached for her hand with both of his. "I wish you could remember it. We were good together."

Hermione flinched and pulled away, hugging herself. "Fact is that I can't. I don't want to hurt you, Ron, but I love Severus."

He winced. "Don't. I know, all right? And I know Snape's got more important things to do than giving you your memories back. He's better than me with that, okay? I wouldn't even try. I wouldn't want you to remember being with someone else." Ron frowned again. "Are you sure..."

"That he was trying to come up with something to restore my memories before the plague returned and put everything else aside? Yes. He was. Because even if I was 'your girl' back then, he does want me to remember being his friend. And as for being better than you, Ron, he does have twenty years on you."

"S'pose so," Ron muttered. "It's not fair. I lost mum, then I as good as lost you too. And Lav lost her baby. Wasn't mine, but it still hurt."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your mum, and about Lavender. But you haven't lost me; it's just that we can only be friends."

He looked up as Hermione pushed away from the table. "You're not going already, are you? We're good, aren't we?"

She nodded, taking a handful of Floo powder from the broken flowerpot on the mantelpiece. "I think I'd better. We're fine, so long as you accept that I'm with Severus now. I'm happy with him. You're with Lavender now. If we're going to be friends, you need to be happy with her too."

"I will be, I mean, I am! Don't I get a hug?"

"Sorry, Ron. It's too soon for you. Maybe when you're not still hung up on the past."

"But..."

"Malfoy Manor." The rest of Ron's words were cut off by the racket of the Floo.

She emerged at the other end in the empty hallway, slowly brushing off the ash clinging to her. 'I am sorry, Ron. I do want to be friends again, but it's too awkward when you look at me and talk like that. At least even if I never get to see you again, we have some closure.'

* * *

Six days, around nine hours and counting...

Her shuddering breaths slowed as Severus pulled her into his arms.

"Same dream?" Spooned in the curve of his body, she could feel the vibrations of his voice as well as hear it.

"Can't remember." For all she knew, it wasn't a recurring nightmare but nightmares. Which for some reason escaped her memory as soon as she woke. "It was the same last time. Before the plague came back. Every damn night for a week."

"At least you don't kick me awake every time," Severus grumbled but tightened his arms around her at the reminder of how little time was left.

"Sorry. Could you find out what they're about? Use Legilimency?"

"If you can't remember them, there will be nothing to see."

"When I'm still asleep, I mean."

"Needs eye contact. Even if I lifted your eyelids your eyes would be moving. Can we go back to sleep now?"

"Yes. Sorry. You especially need it. If it's not your own nightmares disturbing your sleep, it's mine. Maybe we should sleep alone..." Hermione reluctantly tried to wriggle out of his grip to get out of bed to go and disturb Crookshanks instead.

His arms tightened around her again. "No."

She stopped trying to escape, instead putting her hands over his and squeezing. In his place she wouldn't want him out of her sight either. Not when there was only a week before she might... Forget being in his shoes; she didn't want to be apart from him either. Maybe she'd better treat herself to some Dreamless Sleep for the remaining nights. Not as if she'd have a chance to get addicted, after all.

* * *

Two days, three hours, forty-nine minutes and counting...

Hermione emerged from her bathroom, wrapped in a dressing gown, her hair still slightly damp. She'd woken up later than she'd wanted, too close to breakfast time to shower with Severus as planned. Instead they showered at the same time but in separate bathrooms. Dreamless Sleep made for an undisturbed night, but also meant it was harder for Severus to rouse her in the morning.

Crookshanks wound around her legs, almost tripping her as she padded across the carpet to her chest of drawers. She walked over to her bedroom door, opening it to let him out into the corridor.

"Go on, find Mum and Dad. Pester them for breakfast. It'll be quicker than waiting for me."

He slunk off with a disgruntled mew.

She closed the door after him so she wouldn't find herself with a twisted ankle if he slunk back inside. Just because today was not going to be pleasant did not mean she wanted to start it that way too.

Going back to the drawers, she selected some underwear for the day, then opened up the wardrobe. Choosing a pair of trousers, she paused, hand on her favourite shirt. Long-sleeved. Severus needed access to the insides of her elbows. She didn't really want to have to repair it after he tore the sleeves to draw her blood, combine some with the cure and then inject it. Grabbing a t-shirt instead, she laid the clothes down on her bed and untied the sash of her dressing gown.

Severus came through the adjoining doorway. "It occurs to me," he said, slipping his hands under her dressing gown and pushing it off her shoulders to pool at her feet, "that we could keep the others waiting. They won't mind."

"That's good, because we already are. Breakfast was meant to be at eight o' clock." Hermione glanced at her clock. "Getting on for fifteen minutes ago."

She stepped into his arms for a kiss, his hands caressing her bare skin. She tugged his dressing gown open until skin pressed against skin. Ordinarily she might have put a stop to this, with her parents waiting. But today of all days... Severus was right. The others would understand.

He lowered her onto the bed, their lips still locked in a passionate kiss, disregarding the clothes creasing beneath them. Propped up on his forearms, lying cradled between her legs, she had the pleasure of his full warm body length against hers without being crushed.

Severus started to rock his hips, rubbing his fully engorged erection against her, teasing her clitoris until her breath quickened. She reached down to position him, stroking his erection against herself, coating it in her juices. Revelling in his groan.

He thrust in torturously slowly, eyes locked to hers as every millimetre of pulsing flesh slid against her inner walls. She wrapped her legs around him, thrusting back in an effort to get him to speed up. Gradually, he did so, until the bed rocked beneath them.

She'd thought that last night they'd been absorbed in the sensation as much as possible, making love with tender desperation. But this... Their eyes locked in bright daylight, concentrating on the feel of every thrust, of skin sliding against skin, this was even more intense.

"This isn't goodbye," she gasped.

"No, it's not."

'But just in case...' She released her tenuous grip on coherent thought and enjoyed the moment, straining towards mutual release.

'Yes, yes, yessss!'

Even if it did mean being late to breakfast and subjected to knowing looks from her mother and Lucius, and her father's grimace.

"Please tell me you've been on a bracing walk."

"Some form of invigorating exercise, I'm sure," Lucius murmured, leering. He yelped when her mother smacked the back of his head.

"Behave."

He sent her a wounded look and smoothed his hair down.

Hermione avoided her father's eyes, her cheeks burning. "Something like that."

'Sorry, Dad. I haven't been your baby girl for a long time.'

* * *

Two days, four minutes and counting...

"How are you feeling, dear?" her mother asked for the umpteenth time, seated across from her in the library.

"Fine," Hermione muttered. 'Apart from feeling like a zoo resident.' She was all too aware of seven pairs of eyes watching her anxiously. 'Or like a ticking bomb.'

"That's good, right? No symptoms might mean the plague won't come back yet." Harry looked from Hermione to Ginny, his hair even messier than usual.

Hermione bristled, poised to defend her Arithmancy skills.

"There was nothing wrong with the calculation," Severus snapped. "All it might mean is that there is less time between when the plague attacks and when it kills."

"Not good at all, then." Draco's knuckles whitened where he held Ginny's hand in his.

Lucius steepled his fingers. "How long does the cure need to work?"

"Around five hours."

Her parents exchanged a worried look, before they both turned to look at Hermione again. "Any change?" Her father cleared his throat. "Not that I want you to fall ill, darling, but better sooner rather than later, eh?"

Hermione eyed her watch. Just under two minutes left, if the plague was still the same as that attacking the baby Muggle-borns.

"Dear?"

"I..." She stood up. "I have to go." Hermione darted through the door, closing it after herself and tapped it with her wand, locking it. Not that it would stop them for long, especially not those cleared to Apparate within the manor.

She staggered, leaning heavily against the wall. She shivered, chilled yet sweating. Feverish. The first symptom. She gasped for air. The second, already. Not long now...

Then Severus was beside her, pulling her into his arms. Much as she didn't want anyone, even him, to see her collapse, she did need someone to knock her out. And, of course, apply the cure.

"Hermione?"

She pulled her head back from where it rested against her chest so she could look him in the eyes. "Didn't want them to see. It's coming." She reached up to rest her fingertips against his lips. "Please don't. Need to say this while I can. If the cure doesn't work, don't give up. I know you'll try again if that happens, but if time runs out... don't do anything drastic."

She leant up on tiptoe to replace her fingers with her lips. "Love you," Hermione croaked, flinching as the pain started to build. "Stun me. Now..."

Mercifully, the pain didn't cut her off. There was a white flash, and her body felt numb.

"Love you..." Severus's voice, faint through the ringing in her ears.

Then nothing.

* * *

Lucius caught Severus's meaningful glance right before he Disapparated. Looking at Lucius, then at the others in the library. Then back. A slight shake of the head, too, if he was not much mistaken... 'Don't follow, then.'

Potter, ever the hero, shot across the room. If he'd been cleared to Apparate within the manor, he'd doubtlessly have followed Severus. He rattled the door handle. Locked, of course.

"Alohomora!"

Before he could open the door, Lucius elbowed him out of the way to physically bar the door.

"Hey!" Potter whined.

Everyone else was on their feet too. Harridan Helen and Will looked particularly offended.

Lucius held up his hands. "Give Severus a moment. I don't think they want an audience."

"But we want to be there for her!" Ginny protested.

"And how will we know what happens?" Draco added, eyes intent on his wife. He undoubtedly wanted the cure to work on Hermione, but his primary concern had to be his spouse.

"Much as I'm sure she appreciates that you care, this is something Hermione won't want any of us to see. I don't think she really wants Severus there either, but he needs to be, what with the cure... As for the rest, the wards will let me know when she falls ill, and Severus will..."

Lucius clutched at his head as the alarm flared. He'd tinkered with the wards so that it was less deafening, but there was a limit to how much he could do and still be notified.

"Lucius?" The Harridan had her hand on his shoulder.

"Finite." He wordlessly shrugged her off and turned to the door, pushing it open. Severus stood outside, holding Hermione's limp body in his arms.

Her parents gasped behind him. "Is she all right?" Will asked.

Lucius tightened his jaw. She wasn't writhing in pain; it could be worse. Far, far worse. "Stunned?"

Severus kept his eyes on Hermione and shifted his grip on her to brush her hair away from her face. "Enchanted coma. Far gentler and, I suspect, needed to slow the plague down so that she does still have forty-eight hours left."

Harridan Helen brushed past him to feel Hermione's forehead. "She's burning up."

"It is one of the symptoms," Severus snapped, still watching Hermione's face closely. Lucius had a horrible suspicion that he knew what Severus was waiting for.

"Why don't you give her the cure now?" Potter asked, his whining voice right in Lucius's ear.

"Because," Severus hissed, his wand in hand and raised to Hermione's lips, "there's no point if she chokes on her own blood first."

Almost as if he'd prompted it with those words, blood started to trickle from her mouth. Then her nose, too, in a steadily increasing stream. At that rate she'd soon need a Blood Replenishing Potion.

Lucius swallowed hard and looked away. It didn't help. He could still see Narcissa in Hermione's place, haemorrhaging in the same way. Forty-eight hours later... Dead. Cold. Gone.

"Now I can give her the cure," Severus said.

Lucius looked back. The blood was gone, including the deep red stains on her clothes.

"But not here. Somewhere quieter and more comfortable. I need to concentrate." He glared pointedly at Lucius.

"Her bedroom? Your lab?" Lucius suggested, avoiding Severus's glower. He had tried to keep everyone from following... just that he hadn't done very well at it. Especially not after the wards flared.

"Both: Hermione to her bedroom, then on to my lab. Walk down to my lab and by the time you get there I should be able to tell you if it has worked." With that, he Disapparated, taking Hermione with him.

The Harridan snatched her hand off Hermione just in time. "I'd never hear the end of it from Hermione if I Teleported with her again." She sniffled, turning to her husband and burying her face against him. "It has to work."

"Follow me," Lucius murmured. He led the way downstairs, through the corridors to the door of the lab. The portraits were silent as the passed, some snoring softly. Rather than subject his in-laws to their insults while they lived under his roof, he'd had the manor put all portraits under the Sleeping Beauty Enchantment.

It only took a couple of minutes, but each step felt like eternity. The uncomfortable silence broken only by Helen's sniffles did not help with that impression. Finally, the lab door was in front of him. Lucius knocked and then opened the door.

"Did it..." Lucius drew his wand, eyes wide. "Protego!"

A vial rebounded off the Shielding Charm. An Unbreakable Charm, then, or it would be so much shattered glass mingled with the contents – was that blood? – on the floor.

"...It didn't work?"

Across the room, Severus snarled incoherently, his eyes wild. He slashed his wand through the air. The door slammed in Lucius's face.

"That's a 'no', then."

'Shit.'

* * *

AN: Many thanks to Kribu, Septentrion and JunoMagic for betaing.