Hope and Despair

This is a story by the great Marisol, a German FF writer whose stories can be found at http://www.harrypotter-xperts.de/fanfiction?author=17037

Translated from German into English by Muggline

Disclaimer: Neither Marisol nor Muggline are making any money out of this. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Once again, ladyinthecloak did a wonderful (and speedy!!!) job – it seems that she had pity on you because of the cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter. AND I learnt that it is perfectly all right for private persons to send chocolate to the USA as a gift. Be prepared! On the other hand, let's not forget notsosaintly, who put the awful mess that were my tenses and prepositions in order (I guess I will never understand those 100 %...)

Chapter 19 – Hope and Despair

As Hermione and Snape entered the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione suddenly realised that her former professor's upper body was naked. Why hadn't she seen it before? Her worries about Albus Severus seemed to have banned every other thought from her mind, but as she followed Snape, running breathlessly along the path, her gaze locked on his pale back. The absence of clothing accentuated his gaunt shape, and moreover, it also revealed the fact that somebody must have beaten him up quite enthusiastically. Faded scars covered his whole back in a chaotic, ugly pattern, but Hermione's mind was taken off the thoughts of who might have done this to him when they had finally reached the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall had obviously made sure that everyone except Harry, Ginny, James and Hagrid left the room. Harry sat on the floor, holding his son's lifeless body in his arms, while Ginny kept caressing the little face and murmuring inaudible words. Hagrid's sobs filled the Hall, but nobody took any notice of him.

"Severus!" Harry shouted in a voice that Hermione had never heard from him before. It sounded desperate and very frail, as if it had been crushed by an invisible weight. "Can you help him? Please, Severus!"

Not wasting a moment, Snape crouched down next to Harry, examining the boy's skin. Albus showed no reaction at all.

"Harry has administered a bezoar," Hermione whispered.

"How long ago?" Snape asked, not looking at anyone. His hands were shaking, and his hair hid the expression on his face, but Hermione was sure that it showed utter devastation – the shock everyone in the room, herself included, was feeling.

"Ten minutes at most. Help him, Severus. I beg you!" Harry said. Tears poured down his face as he grabbed the older man's wrist, but Snape freed himself of the grip and reached out for the child.

Ginny was crying helplessly. She looked as if she wanted to shake Snape, but she seemed to have lost all strength because she sank down to the floor next to Albus Severus like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

After what felt like eternity, Snape looked up. When Hermione saw the grief-stricken expression on his usually motionless face, she gasped for breath. "I will do whatever I can," he said in a whisper and turned his head towards McGonagall, who sat in one of the chairs with a serious and scared expression. "Minerva, do you have breadfruit powder and pine devil moth larvae in your Potions lab?"

"I... I don't know," she stammered. "I will wake Lucinda at once and..."

"No time," Snape interrupted her brusquely. "I cannot risk waiting that long." He looked at Harry and Ginny and added, "We have to leave at once. I have everything I need for the antidote in my private stores. Minerva, can you lift the Apparition wards on Hogwarts for a moment?"

"Of course", the headmistress confirmed and stood up immediately, getting her wand from her pocket. She started drawing complicated patterns and murmuring spells.

"I'm so sorry," Hagrid exclaimed desperately and sank to his knees, making the floor under their feet tremble. "Didn't know... Didn't realise..." He buried his bearded face in his huge hands, and Hermione was caught in a wave of pity when she saw him like this. She was searching for words of consolation, but could not think of anything that wouldn't be out of place.

"You can Apparate now," the headmistress said, and in the next moment, Snape – holding little Albus on his arm – had pulled Harry to his feet. "Help your wife," he demanded brusquely and looked around for Hermione. "Your wand, Hermione," he murmured.

"What?" she asked, irritated. Each word directed at her seemed to travel twice as long as usual until it reached her conscious mind.

"Give me your wand," he demanded impatiently, and this time she understood. Without hesitation, she threw her wand over to him, not knowing what he wanted to do. But she did not really care. "Are you ready?" Snape asked and grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Concentrate now! Understand? Apparate directly to my house!"

Harry nodded, pale and scared, and slung one arm around Ginny, who had James pressed to her chest and seemed to have a hard time keeping upright.

Snape crossed the distance to Hermione in a few large strides and got hold of her elbow. "Do you know how to brew the antidote?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"Theo... theoretically, yes," she whispered. "I have read about it, of course, but..."

"Good," he interrupted and lifted the hand that was holding her wand. When he saw Hagrid, his face – which had been full of sorrow and fear just a moment ago – turned into a grimace full of hatred. The next second, an ice-blue flash shot out of Hermione's wand at the half-giant. Hagrid flinched, rolled on his side and lay there, whimpering and holding his leg.

Snape turned to the others as if nothing had happened and said calmly, "We will Apparate together on the count of three."

oOoOoOoOo

The atmosphere in Snape's house did nothing to help them develop hope or new courage, but nobody said a word when they stood in his sitting room and he ordered Harry and Ginny to sit.

"I want to be there when you brew the antidote," Harry said at once, but Snape shook his head.

"You'd only be in the way. The potion is very complicated and needs full concentration. I'd rather you look after your wife and son." He nodded curtly towards Ginny, who was observing her son's lifeless body, crying in silence. In a slightly softer voice, Snape added, "Believe me. I will do everything within my power to help him."

With these words, he turned around and looked at Hermione, who had remained standing in the doorframe and was now looking up at him insecurely. "Come, Hermione," he ordered, and she followed immediately.

Her legs felt numb, as if they did not belong to the rest of her body, but somehow she managed to stumble along behind him. He hurried through the dark corridor towards the entrance door in silence and did not turn around. They crossed an overgrown garden and reached some kind of shack, which, Hermione noticed, he used as his laboratory.

"Do you remember the exact order of the ingredients?" he asked.

"I... Yes," she whispered in a daze.

He pointed at the cupboards with one hand and said, "Powders and dried plants are in this cupboard, alphabetically sorted. Ingredients of animal provenience are right next to that one, liquids in the cupboards next to the window." He did not wait for an answer, but pointed her wand in the direction of his house and said, "Accio, Severus Snape's wand!" Some moments later, he held his own wand in his hand and gave Hermione's back. "What are you waiting for?" he snapped when she stood rooted to the spot and gave him an uncertain look.

"I... I am afraid," she admitted and slung her arms around her upper body although she was not cold. The potion required utmost precision. One drop too much or too few, one second of hesitation while adding the ingredients at the right moment, and the antidote would not work, but instead accelerate the death of the patient.

Snape strode over to her and clutched her upper arms with his long fingers while he bent down until the tips of their noses almost touched. "You will not make one single mistake," he said, dangerously quiet. "You will prepare everything as it should be, and this brew will be perfect. You will do it because you were one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever taught. I would not even let you near my laboratory if I didn't have absolute confidence in the fact that you know exactly what you have to do. This head of yours," he roughly dabbed at her temple with one finger, "has memorised anything you have ever read about the brewing of this potion, and I trust in your ability to call it all up now, Hermione. Do you understand?"

During his little speech, only one word found its way into Hermione's mind:

Trust.

Snape trusted her to help him save Al's life. Suddenly, she knew that she could do it. That she would not make one single mistake, simply because she couldn't.

She nodded and went to the first cupboard he had indicated without another word. Immediately, she found the breadfruit powder he would need first while he murmured, "Aguamenti," and lit the fire under the cauldron. They worked in complete silence, but every single movement seemed like a thoroughly rehearsed choreography. Beads of perspiration were glistening on Hermione's forehead when they came near the end of the process, but she knew that the worst was yet to come. The potion had to simmer for exactly twelve minutes before the pine devil moth larvae had to be added. They needed to be put exactly in the centre of the cauldron, but without agitating the brew. Precisely at the same time, seven drops of fresh blood were needed. Exactly seven drops. No more, no less.

With astonishingly calm hands, Hermione crushed the larvae while Severus pricked one of his fingers with a needle. They looked at each other, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. Hermione took several deep breaths to calm herself; then she waited until the twelve minutes were over and held the larvae over the middle of the cauldron. Very carefully, she let them glide into the brew. At the same moment, Severus held his hand over the cauldron and let seven drops of light red blood pour into the liquid. Then he took his hand away at the very last moment. The potion hissed and turned a light yellow – a sign that they had done everything right until that point.

Hermione dared to emit a sigh of relief and discreetly wiped her sweaty hands on her trousers before she continued crushing clove leaves. Snape murmured incantations in Husanic, a very old and long forgotten language that Hermione could not speak, but which was vital for the brewing of the potion. Meanwhile, he kept stirring complicated patterns with his wand.

The last ingredient needed was curly human hair, but when Snape opened his storage cupboard, all he found was straight blond hair. Hermione had observed him and knew what he was looking for. Without hesitation, she grabbed the knife that lay before her on the worktable, sheared her long, thick braid off, took the elastic out and put her hair into the cauldron. She waited intently and when nothing happened for a while, her insides started cramping again. But then, silvery sparks started spraying from the cauldron and changed colour while in the air.

Snape and Hermione looked at each other. They had done it.

oOoOoOoOo

Silently, just as they had been working on the antidote, they walked through the garden. But when they had almost reached the door, Snape turned to Hermione.

Her feeling of endless relief and euphoria was extinguished at once when she saw Snape's expression.

"I have never heard of a case," he said very quietly, "where the antidote has been administered to such a small child. It counteracts the fruit's deadly poison, yes. But the side-effects are terrible."

"What... What do you mean?" Hermione whispered in a choked voice.

"It causes vomiting and stomach cramps for days. Nosebleeds and unconsciousness may occur," he answered tonelessly. "The boy will lose much fluid during this period – if he survives the first night. He is so young... I really don't know if his body has enough strength to cope with this ordeal."

Hermione pressed one hand over her mouth and looked at him with her eyes wide in shock. She had known how the antidote must be brewed, but she had never read about any side-effects.

Snape turned away from her and opened the door. He had hardly taken two steps when Harry ran towards him.

"Do you have the potion?" he exclaimed in despair. "Severus, his skin is blue all over! I...

Snape pushed him aside without a word and hurried into the sitting room where Ginny was rocking Albus Severus in her lap.

Snape sat down next to her and motioned for Hermione to give him the bottle with the antidote while he gently brushed some strands of hair out of the boy's face. Then he put the bottle to the child's lips to pour the contents into his mouth and watched the liquid hiss and steam where it touched Albus Severus's tongue.

"Severus!" Ginny exclaimed in an anguished voice, but Snape put a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's okay. The hissing is a part of the process."

Hermione's heart beat wildly while she watched. The little boy first emitted a horrible rattling noise before he started retching and threw up onto Ginny's lap.

Snape turned towards Harry, who had been paralysed with terror, watching the scene. He said, "Listen. You have to take him to St. Mungo's. He will throw up many times more and he will have stomach cramps. The Healers at St. Mungo's have potions to balance the fluid loss and ease the cramps. I could brew them here, but that would take too long. I will write a note for Healer Emendis. Ask for him and no one else, okay? Give Albus some sips of the antidote once per hour, even if he fights against it."

With a flourish of his wand, he summoned a piece of parchment and a quill and hastily scribbled something. Then he rolled up the parchment and gave it to Harry. "I will take care of James. He will be in good hands with me," he said calmly and gazed at the elder of the Potter boys, who had fallen asleep on the sofa.

"I..." Harry started helplessly, but Snape allowed no discussion. He repeated his instructions once more until Harry finally helped Ginny to her feet and Disapparated with her clutching one of his arms and Albus Severus on the other.

As soon as they had disappeared with a 'plop', Snape sunk down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. All of a sudden, he seemed exceedingly tired and old, as if a century had passed, not an hour.

Hermione felt a hollow pressure in the area of her stomach when she saw his body start to shake. Without thinking, she took one of his books out of the nearest shelf and Transfigured it into a simple black cloak. Hesitatingly, she went over and draped the cloak around his shoulders.

He did not protest. His skin was covered in an icy layer of perspiration.

"He... he is a tough little fellow," she whispered. "He will make it. For sure! There's more strength in him than you believe."

Snape did not answer, but moved back and forth, almost imperceptibly, just like a panther that had been locked into a cage.

Hermione hesitated; then she softly put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little. "He is like you in many ways, you know," she said, pushing the cloak a little higher over his shoulder with trembling hands. Helpless, she let her gaze wander around the sparsely furnished sitting room. With trembling knees, she went towards a cupboard which, at least she hoped, contained something alcoholic. Indeed, she found a dusty bottle of firewhisky and poured some into two glasses she found.

When she turned around again, he had not moved an inch. It seemed as if he had neither heard nor seen her. Not knowing where her courage had come from, she reached for his cold fingers and put the glass into his hand.

"I, erm... I will take James to bed," she murmured. As she had expected, there was no answer. But when she had scooped up the sleeping child and reached the stairs, she heard him say, "If the boy dies, there will be nothing left."

He hit his fist to his chest, and her heart broke when she suddenly realised the implications of the evening's events. She was completely devastated. Not by the statement, although it was completely out of character for him and exposed his vulnerability. Nor by the way he sat slumped in a heap. But by the realisation that he loved Albus Severus unconditionally and that he would be destroyed if the child did not survive. His godson was probably the only aspect that had given Snape's life meaning. But if he died... Hermione did not dare to think this through to the end.

She found Snape's plain bedroom, put James in bed and tucked him in before she slowly descended the stairs again. The pain that she felt had nothing to do with Albus Severus or the pity she felt for Harry and Ginny. The source of her pain was the man who was sitting on his threadbare sofa, a mere shadow of his former self. His head hung low, his face was covered by his hair, and he stared at his hand that clutched the glass.

Slowly, Hermione sat next to him and put one hand on his back. When he did not protest, she started drawing meaningless little circles with her palm. "Everything will be all right, believe me," she whispered and dared to put her arm around his shoulders. They sat like that for a while. When she moved her hands towards his chest to pull the cloak tighter around him, she felt that the fabric under his chin was wet although he had not taken one sip from his glass.