Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Fantasy Book	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 44517 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Not too terrible of a wait, I hope.

Time stood still. Hermione was frozen to her spot, jaw slack, eyes wide; unbelieving of what she was seeing before her. It had been months since the fall of Voldemort, rapidly approaching a year. Suddenly time was whizzing past her, seconds flew like hours and she wasn’t sure if she’d been paralyzed for a moment or an entire day. Shock welded her to the floor, unable to lift her feet, or draw in a breath, or even hold her towel properly against her body. The deep rich brown so dark it was almost black was there; she could see the color of his eyes and they were fixed on her; a sturdy gaze like that of a curious owl or hawk. Severus Snape was indeed awake.

            Her initial reaction was to bolt. But the connection between her thoughts and the movement of her limbs had been temporarily severed. He had captured her gaze and she was unable to look away, still disbelieving afraid that if she blinked the man before her would somehow return to his coma. She wasn’t entirely convinced that she wasn’t dreaming. A long silence reigned over him as he studied her, his eyes moving slowly from her shocked features down to her body which was only loosely wrapped in the towel.

            Had Severus Snape not seen her moving but a moment before he would have sworn the girl had been petrified by a basilisk behind his headboard. It was clear by the look in her eyes that she had not expected him to be conscious upon her return to the room. Wherever he was though he assumed it was private chambers in the hospital wing, something was going on and he longed to know exactly what.

            “Miss Granger,” he said. He hesitated for a moment. Perhaps he had mistaken her and the woman before him was not in fact who he thought she was. He closed his eyes for just a moment and let a rush of memories flood his brain. The last thing he could recall in his conscious state was lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, blood gushing from the side of his neck as he gazed up into Lily’s eyes. Though they hadn’t been Lily’s eyes, they had been Potter’s, The Boy-Who-Lived. And then darkness, but there had been things in the darkness, like a fuzzy dream. Images flitted about so quickly in his mind that it was starting to cause him a headache. Severus opened his eyes and slowly shook his head as if trying to clear the confusing images from his mind.

            There were things he could not recall or explain but the face of Hermione Granger was not one of them, of that he was certain. And he was certain that she was the witch that stood before him, wrapped only in a towel for a reason he didn’t know. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

            Her lips moved but if she were speaking audible words he could not hear them. The girl seemed dazed, almost confused but more frightened than anything else. To say the least it had been unnerving to awaken in a bed not his own having no idea where he was, why he was naked, how long he had been there, and what had happened to him. But to have her standing there like a statue, nearly as naked as he was only furthered to confuse him, and to make matters worse the girl seemed to have lost all powers of speech.

            “You’re awake,” she muttered. Her words sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of what she was seeing.

            Severus narrowed his gaze at her. An obvious overstatement as such annoyed him and brought him no closer to understanding what was going on, but he thought better than to comment on it. It was clear she was unable to be forthcoming with answers and so he cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could call for the Mediwitch?” he asked.

            Hermione’s face flushed and suddenly her body was flooded with the ability to move. Her fingers gripped the towel tighter around her figure and she looked away, almost ashamed to have appeared in the room before him. Severus could not make heads or tails of her response but was flabbergasted nonetheless when she dashed back into what was presumably the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

            Her heart was racing, thudding so hard against her chest that it hurt. She couldn’t catch her breath. It was a dream; it had to be a dream. He couldn’t be awake not after what had just happened and then for her to walk in wearing only a towel. Her mind was reeling, and Hermione felt dizzy. She gripped the edge of the sink so hard that her knuckles turned white. She yelped when there was a knock on the door but before she could lock it he’d managed to push it open.

            Severus stood in the doorway to the bathroom and Hermione’s face paled. He had moved out of the bed and was standing there like a normal man. He’d donned his pajama bottoms but remained shirtless and she was still only covered by the towel. “Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?”

            Her eyes darted frantically back and forth between him and the bed, which she could see just beyond him. The book lay face down on the mattress. Skin tingling, Hermione swallowed hard and tried to calm her breath long enough to speak. Her hands shook and again she found herself gripping the edge of the sink, this time facing him, trying not to look like a quivering maniacal mess.

            “Sir,” she managed to say without stuttering. “You were in a coma, and the headmaster—” she paused and caught her mistake. “Albus Dumbledore…his portrait…he insisted you be looked after here in the hospital wing at Hogwarts until you recovered.” She spoke the truth with several dozen omissions but for the moment the old statute ‘an omission was not a lie’ was going to have to do.

            Severus allowed her words to sink in before he continued his questioning. “How long ago was that?”

            Hermione frowned. “It’s been nearly a year since the attack, sir. You never woke up.”

            He nodded slowly. The image from his last waking thought was clear, those bright green eyes. It was all the peculiar images from the time he could not recall that bothered him. “And you were charged with my care?” he asked.

            Hermione nodded but then quickly shook her head. “No, sir. I wasn’t, but I did—” she shook her head again. “That is to say I took you on, no one made me, but I wanted to, not out of pity but they were going to give up and Professor Dumbledore believed and I did even if they doubted—”

            “Miss Granger!” his voice was slightly louder than he’d intended. But her rapid flow of nonsensical words was beginning to make his head spin. Any further rambling from the girl would have caused a migraine. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m going to need you to slow down. And speak clearly and concisely.”

            A flush crawled through her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to rush her words but nothing seemed to come out right. With a sigh she stared straight ahead and looked him in the eyes. “Might I dress properly and explain this to you in there?” she gestured to the bed behind him.

            He nodded. Severus stepped out of the bathroom and pulled the door shut, giving the girl a moment of privacy. She heaved a deep sigh of relief but quickly regretted her decision as she realized she’d left him alone with the book. Hermione found discarded garments from the bath days ago and quickly dressed herself with a quick cleansing charm and dashed into his hospital room. The man had just made his way back to the bed when she appeared at his side. She snatched the book from the mattress and tucked it under her arms before sitting at the foot of his bed, staring at him.

            “Proceed,” he said as he eased onto the bed, pulling the coverlet up against his torso.

            Hermione nodded. “You fell, sir, near the end of the Great War…trying to save us all, Harry especially, in the Shrieking Shack just after—”

            “If you please, Miss Granger, those particulars I do not need relieved as I am having no trouble with their recollection. The events from that point until now I seem to be having trouble grasping…” he stared at her, his eyes intense.

            “Right…” again she blushed. “Well… we thought you’d bled out, sir. There wasn’t anything we could do. Somehow Harry knew to grab your memories, and we got halfway down the tunnel and suddenly he was turning around and racing back.” She said. The image was still sharp in her mind as if it had happened just yesterday.

            “Harry, where are you going? We need to get back to Hogwarts!” she hissed.

            “Just a minute! I don’t think he’s dead!” he shouted and continued heading back up the tunnel toward the shack.

            Ron grumbled. “Doesn’t matter, right git, deserved what he got.”

            “Ronald!” Hermione cried. “Harry! I watched him stop breathing— we can’t he’s— we have to go…”

            “I’ll only be a minute, Hermione. But I swear I thought I saw something…”

            She couldn’t follow him back. Seeing the man draw his last breath before her eyes had been too much as it was, she didn’t need to see him lying dead on the floor. Hermione choked back a sob; she didn’t need Ron to make a fuss over her tears. Silent salt leaked down her cheeks and she wiped furiously at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She hoped the memories would prove that he was holding out for the greater good and her trust in him hadn’t been for naught.

            It seemed like forever before Harry returned to them, he was panting hard and moving quickly. “He’s still alive!” he called out.

            Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. She dared not to hope that he was right and that she hadn’t somehow misheard him. “What?” she cried.

            Harry appeared next to her in the tunnel, crouched down on his knees, his face splotched with dirt and flecks of blood. He was out of breath but there was a sure smile planted on his face. “Hermione, he didn’t die. It’s a wicked dark spell, but he’s breathing. I watched his chest rise and fall for nearly two minutes!” he seemed overjoyed.

            “Have you gone bonkers?” Ron asked. “This is Snape we’re talking about here!”

            “Ronald!” Hermione hissed. “Shut up!”

            Harry shook his head. “I think he took some sort of blood poison, it was marked in the Advanced Potions book. Slowing blood flow, letting poison bleed out instead of blood, causes appearance of death, paralysis and coma!” he shouted as if the memory had come flooding back to his mind.

            “But you’re sure?” Hermione wanted to reach out and shake Harry by the shoulders to be certain but she clenched her fists against the dirt floor of the tunnel instead.

            “Yes, Hermione! Now, come on, we’ve got to let someone know right away.”

            Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them and gazed into his eyes. “The battle finished, I can’t say exactly what happened to you from there, Sir, but I do know that your body—well, you were retrieved from the Shack and brought to the Hospital Wing.”

            “Brought here?” he looked around at the private room.

            “No, not here, with all the other casualties, Sir.” She bit her lower lip. She decided against telling him how many people had wanted to throw his body off the Astronomy Tower until they’d seen the memories. “After your memories were revealed, Sir, Professor Dumbledore— his portrait, gave orders to Madam Pomphrey to set you up here until you recovered.”

            Severus nodded slowly.

            “But you didn’t do so well, at first. Your vital signs did not hold stable, and there was debate as to whether or not you would ever wake…” she trailed off.

            “And?”

            Hermione lowered her head and closed her eyes. “And whether or not you were worth keeping around in hopes that you would.” She let her words resonate for a moment before she quickly added. “I knew you would and made sure of it.”

            “She certainly did!” Poppy Pomphrey had burst through the door, her cheeks aglow as she bustled toward Severus. “The girl’s hardly left your side for a second. She’d researched every alternative method she could find on how to retrieve wizards from comatose states,” the woman was practically beaming as she began scuttling back and forth, prepping her check-up kit. “Guess the reading finally paid off,” she smiled at Hermione.

            Hermione tried not to blush.

            “Reading?” Severus asked, quirking a brow up on his forehead.

            But before Hermione could answer Poppy was chattering away. “Oh, yes. She’d tried everything, from herbs and potions to various hypnotic methods, oh you name it the girl researched it and gave it a shot. And then she stumbled across something in a muggle medical journal about reading something stimulating in hopes of stimulating the inner psyche that would help to revive the conscious mind state.”

            Severus’ eyes drew immediately to the book tucked under her arm. “And what were you reading, Miss Granger?”

            She did her best not to flush, trying even harder to make the book disappear from sight. But again the Mediwitch was squawking. “Oh, some big potions tome, it was lying around here, always is, can’t miss the bloody thing. I never knew potions could be so interesting, but I suppose to the potions master— there it is!” she pointed to the book tucked under Hermione’s arm.

            Severus nodded slowly. “Might I see the tome, Miss Granger?”

            Hermione’s heart stopped. The color drained from her face and her whole body went numb. But her hands were launched in auto pilot as they reached out and handed him the book. He took it and carefully tucked it under his own arm.

            “Oh, dear you did wonderful with him,” Poppy beamed. “And he seems fine, though some rest would be a good idea.”

            “An excellent idea,” Severus said and gazed at Hermione once more. “I do not wish to take up any more of your time and you look as if a rest would do you some good, Miss Granger.” He said.

            Poppy nodded her agreement. “Yes, dear, you haven’t been getting much sleep what with your round-the-clock reading to the good professor,” she chuckled. “You need a good rest.”

            “I’m fine, really—”

            “And Severus needs his rest, dear,” she said. “Give the man some space he just woke up…” she said off to the side.

            Severus nodded. “I do think I shall have a relaxing afternoon reading through this potions text,” he nodded to the book and then at Hermione. It was no potions text, of that he was certain. Though what the book contained in its pages he hadn’t the slightest idea.

            Before Hermione could protest she was being ushered out of his rooms by Poppy Pomphrey, the eyes of Severus Snape lingering on her with a growing curiosity.

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The Fantasy Book