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All Wounds Heal In Time	By : MissLibrarian Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the charcters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Sorry for the slowness of all this, it will hopefully pick up pace from now on, but then I�m always saying something like that! Haha! Please review if you can they really make such a difference and I love hearing your opinions. Hope it�s good.

It has been suggested by some that I post my stories elsewhere, but I am reticent to do so without a beta. I was hoping somebody reading might be willing to help with that, both with this story and my other one, if you are at all interested please contact me by email or via livejournal, the info for both of these is on my profile. Thanks :)

Review Replies

Voracious Reader: It�s good to be back! More hospital babble in this chapter but it will be the last! At least it should be � hopefully. Maybe? :) Thanks so much for the reviews.

Angelnomiko: I�m glad you�re enjoying it, thanks for the review. There should be more soon.

Kcision: It�s felt like forever. Hopefully I shall get a shift on now! It�s a pleasure writing for such great readers. Thanks for the lovely review.

Sevsgirl: Sorry it took so long! Haha :) Thanks so much as always for reading and enjoying and letting me know.

Draiconovix: I�m so glad you like my story, and thank you for reviewing. I blush when people say �amazing� :)

Nmos: Thanks again for keeping the reviews coming! Repeat reviewers like you are the amazing ones.

DarklessVasion: Thank you very much for your reviews, I appreciate your comments on both my fiction and politics. I agree with you, the governments here in the UK and in the USA have seemed very stagnant for a long time, full of the same people wanting the same things I think. That a mass statement such as the election of Obama can happen is inspiring, and I too have confidence in him. Great stuff! As for your other comments, *blush* I�m not sure about �quality work�, though it does feel like work sometimes! I hope you enjoy this chapter and the others will come soon hopefully!

Bobbie: Thank you for taking the time to review now it means a lot. I shall try to write more often from now on :)

A big thank you again to my reviewers, and to everyone who reads and rates or just reads. Enjoy! ~ Love Marie.

~ Day Eight ~

Hermione stared down at the open book in her lap. She had hoped to pass the time reading but she just couldn�t see seem to concentrate. The words swam elusively away from her tired eyes, making it impossible to focus. She snapped the book shut with a sigh, standing up from the sofa and glancing at her watch. It was nearly 2am. She would have to go to the hospital in less than four hours if she was certain to catch Mary, the night nurse, and for some reason she felt the younger woman would be easier to deal with than Irene, the formidable ruler of the ward during the day.

She shuffled across the polished floorboards in her socks, pausing for a moment at the dining table where eight ministry wizards had taken over the space in an erratic fashion that reminded her of a war office. They were calling across the table to each other, waving bits of paper around, generally making the procedures that Arthur Weasley made sound so simple suddenly appear like a complete military manoeuver.

�Ah, Miss Granger,� one of the older wizards called out at her across the organised chaos. �Arthur should be ready for you now.�

Hermione felt another swell of apprehension deep inside, but simply smiled and nodded.

�Have you looked over the paperwork we sent with him?� The old man smiled back at her. �They should be sound now. I put his name down as Snape at first, good job we noticed in time and changed it!�

�Everything looks fine, Mr. Crampiddle,� Hermione said kindly. �Brilliant, actually. As usual! Though I�m not really an expert myself as you know. I�m sure it will be fine.�

�It always is fine when you�re around, Miss Granger,� Crampiddle said with a smile, patting her on the back. �Harris will go with you to the hospital. He�ll act as a fellow student, it should help to validate your story.� A nice looking young man in is twenties extracted himself from the chaos as well, leaning over to shake her hand.

�Very nice to meet you. Benjamin Harris.� He had a lovely wide smile and foppish, sandy hair.

�Hermione Granger,� she replied. �I hope you don�t mind me asking, but do you know much about muggle hospitals?�

�Some,� Harris said. �Luckily not too much. My parents were both muggles though.�

�Same,� Hermione said simply, and they both smiled.

�What time will you be going?� Crampiddle asked them, and Harris turned to her for the answer.

�Well, as soon as I�m done with Arthur, I suppose.� The two ministry wizards nodded at her.

�We�ll be ready,� Harris said.

Hermione walked into the hallway and shuffled towards the kitchen. She paused for a minute at the bottom of the stairs, listening for any sign of Professor McGonagall, who had retired to one of the bedrooms for a quick nap. Hearing nothing but the quiet of the night, she bent down and took her trainers from the cupboard under the stairs, slipping them on before tiptoeing towards the kitchen.

As she reached the door she halted. George and his father were still sitting at the kitchen table and she usually wouldn�t dream of listening to their conversation, but their voices were low in a sort of whispered argument and she couldn�t resist eavesdropping, leaning against the wall just outside the doorway.

�I understand that, George,� Mr. Weasley was saying. �But I would have thought she could have told us. Or told Ron, at least.�

�It�s *her decision*, Dad,� George whispered back. �I shouldn�t have told you really and I wouldn�t have done if weren�t for tonight. You mustn�t tell Ron. Or Mum.�

�But � �

�I mean it, Dad! She�ll tell Ron when she wants to, but for now she�s keeping it to herself.�

�But why?� The old man asked.

�I don�t know why, do I? But like I said, it�s her choice.�

�Yes,� Arthur conceded. �Alright.�

There was a second or two of silence between them and she stood with her back against the wall still, waiting for a few moments before walking in, so that it didn�t look like she had been listening to them as she actually had been. Just as she was about to make her move, Arthur spoke again, and her ears strained to hear them both as their whispering continued.

�What do you think about this prophecy thing then?� Mr. Weasley asked his son. �I assume Minerva told you � ?�

�She did,� George said, braking his question off. �And this morning I would have laughed in her face the same as I did when she first told me.�

�But now?� Arthur asked.

�Now I�m not so sure. I thought it was impossible, but now � well it can�t be a coincidence can it?�

�That�s exactly what I think. It appears like Dumbledore�s interpretation suddenly has an awful lot of weight behind it. To be honest I don�t know whether to laugh or cry for the girl.�

�I want to do both, and more!� George said, and Hermione leant forward quietly, as quickly as she dared. Although Mr. Weasley was hidden from her view she could see George�s profile as he sat hunched at the table. He seemed very serious, and quite sad.

�The one thing I *am* certain of,� the young man said as he leant his head in his hands. �Is that I very much doubt it will make her happy. No matter what Dumbledore thought.�

�I agree.� Mr. Weasley�s voice was deep with concern, like his son�s, and she tried not to breathe loudly as her heart quickened at her own uneasy feelings. �So does Mac. Before � when it looked so unlikely � well we all thought it was a joke really. Now I�m scared for her. If Dumbledore was right � � a moment of hesitation. �It can surely mean nothing but trouble for her now.�

�No kidding,� George said, his head still in his hands. �Poor Hermione,� he muttered, and then father and son were both quiet again.

Hermione felt a chill as she realised the hairs on her arms were standing on end. She leant against the wall once more and hugged herself, rubbing absently at her goose-pimpled skin as her mind worked, thinking over the conversations she had just heard. Her ears felt as if they were burning.

Dumbledore had told her himself, during her foray into the painting, that something more than pure chance had brought her to the bedside of the professor. His description of a prophesy of recovery had conformed somewhat with what she knew the reality of the situation to be, enough to give her the reassurance she needed anyway, and in some ways � now she thought on it � she supposed it had sort of come true. If her moment of decision really had been when her curiosity had got the better of her, when she had gone against her common sense and put her hand in the pensieve, then the series of events leading to her being responsible for Snape�s recovery appeared to have run to their conclusion. Of course it depended on successfully moving him, but so long as that went as planned, well � she couldn�t really see how her involvement with him would continue after that. As per usual, he would be referred to departments more catered to help with his specific needs, whatever they turned out to be.

Why then were George and Mr. Weasley so concerned for her now? When she had been desperate for concern, for interest and advice and possibly the answer, there was nothing to be had from any of them. Now to hear them it sounded as if, far from being the end of the whole damn thing, in their eyes the trouble was only just beginning for her. And not just them, Macintyre Crampiddle thought so too, and this was based on information provided by both Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. She took several more deep breaths.

It occurred to her suddenly that she really had no idea of what this supposed prophecy actually entailed. Since the Dumbledore in the painting had known so little of Snape�s situation, and had offered her as reasonable advice as could be expected from such little understanding, she had assumed � foolishly � that this so-called prophesy had been nothing more than a prediction of her involvement. Now it seemed as if there was much more to it than she had been told or had asked about, and she felt a burning anger at the knowledge that everyone seemed to know more of her own business than she did, as usual. She knew then, as well, how she should have taken the whole thing much more seriously � Had she not seen for herself the power of a single prophesy during the war? � and questioned Dumbledore further while she had had the opportunity. She would try to visit him again as soon as possible. Today wasn�t soon enough in her opinion.

Whatever hell it was she might suddenly find herself in the middle of had to be explained, she reasoned, and she would question George and the others once she had found out from her former Headmaster the exact phrasing of this alleged prophesy.

She stood for a few moments more, trying to calm herself a little before stepping out in front of the two Weasleys, but even as she stood running her hands over the slight wrinkles in her shirt Benjamin Harris came into the corridor and bellowed at her cheerfully.

�Come along, Miss Granger,� he said firmly but with humour, his voice echoing round in the quiet emptiness of the early morn. He ushered her into the kitchen, saying, �You two�d better hurry up if we�re going to stay on schedule.�

�Quite right, Harris,� Arthur said as he stood, turning to them both as they emerged into the warm kitchen. �All set, Hermione?�

�I suppose so,� she replied, glancing at George who gave her a quick wink.

�Just toss this into the fireplace then,� Mr Weasley said for the fourth time, handing her a small leather pouch tied at the top with twine. �It will only take a few minutes at most.� She nodded at him quickly. �Well, see you soon, then,� the old man finished, and she smiled at them all before spinning on the spot and apparating away.

The strange feeling of space and time squeezed around her for a few unpleasant moments, then she appeared again, her heartbeat the only sound as she stood in the absolute darkness of her parent�s hallway. Whether it was a deeply ingrained habit or a subconscious desire to feel less out of place she didn�t know, but she laughed nervously at her fumbled attempts to find the light switch in the dark, rather than illuminating the place with her wand. She pressed the white switch with a snap and the bulb above burned brightly. The electricity was still on, then.

She turned left into the sitting room, it being the only room with a fireplace, turning the light on in there too without thinking as she made her way over to the brick hearth. She knelt down and emptied the powder from the leather pouch into her hand, watching it glint in the light as she scattered it into the cold, empty fireplace. It glowed a warm green for a few moments, then nothing. She knelt for a second or so longer and then stood, looking around her at photos and furniture she hadn�t seen for nearly two years.

There was a musty smell to the place which made her nose wrinkle and her heart ache, a damp odour of a house unlived in, but even beneath that she though she could make out the feint sharp hint of the washing powder her mother used on the chair covers � the ghost of a smell. She walked towards the kitchen, pausing in the hallway once more to quickly heel her shoes off, feeling a twinge of guilt that she had forgotten to do so before now. Once she was in the kitchen she didn�t feel any better. Every surface, every thing, even the feel of the cool tiles beneath her socked feet � everything was a painful reminder. She put the kettle on, noting that the water seemed to be fine as well as the electrics, but after a few moments she turned the kettle off again. The rumbling sound of the old appliance was like a song from her childhood, and it cut at her heart. She returned to the sitting room and sat neatly on the sofa, her back straight, waiting for Mr. Weasley to arrive.

It wasn�t more than a minute before he did, appearing in a flash of green, and she stepped forward and called out to him before he bumped his head.

�Careful!�

�My, my, it *is* small, isn�t it?� Arthur said as he leant forwards, stooping down under the low mantle-piece. His hair and cheeks were smudged with soot even though he had only been standing in the chimney for a moment.

�Will it be big enough to move him through?� Hermione asked quickly, the thought only just occurring to her.

�It should be, it should be.� Mr Weasley said, bobbing his head like a bird. �We can always enlarge it if needs be, anyway,� he added.

�Well, does that need to be done now?� Hermione asked, the weight of the house pressing around her on all sides. When he assured her that it could wait, she nodded firmly and said �Good. Let�s head back to London then, shall we?�

�Hermione,� Arthur said quietly. �Are you alright, love?� He stepped towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, concern in his eyes. She had suspected that George had told Arthur her secret, and it seemed even more likely now as he pulled her into a hug without saying any more. His hand still patted her back in an awkward fashion, but she couldn�t have been more glad to have him there rather than anyone else, except perhaps Molly. He stepped back then and took her hand in both of his, smiling kindly as his eyebrows furrowed in concern once more, then he returned her to Grimmauld Place in a side-along apparation as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Harris was sat at the kitchen table with George, waiting for them.

�Right-o,� he said as he handed her the hospital papers. �Shall we get going then?�

====================================

Severus lay in the quiet of the night time, his body still as he stared up, looking at the twisted copy of the shape of the window thrown across the ceiling above by the orange glow of the streetlights down below. The door to his room was closed, he could barely hear any hint of the night nurse as she watched over the silent ward in the darkness. He knew it must be into the early hours of the morning by now, yet he still had not slept. His body ached after the strain of the magic earlier, and he should have been able to force few hours of uneasy rest upon himself before now, but every time he tried his mind was filled with thoughts that he neither wanted nor seemed able to ignore.

The power of Hermione Granger�s mind was one of these thoughts, the wonder at it continued to pop up unbidden every so often, still, hours later. He prided himself on his legilimency skills and the call of a mind like that was only natural to a man with such interests. Even more troublesome, then, that it belonged to one of the most insufferable young witches he had ever had the misfortune to meet. His admiration for the girl had been � bettered � somewhat, by the services she had rendered over the past few days, and by the feelings touched in him by the memories she had shared. Despite grudgingly admitting this, he still could not think of any part of the girl � even that mind � without feeling the weary drag of his old memories, reminding him of what he knew of her true nature.

She was always so certain, so knowing. She was such a damn gryffindor! No doubt the fact that she was even in a position to help him at all came from some ridiculous desire to be helpful beyond the realms of any sane person.

True � he thought with a unpleasant twist of his insides � he would probably be hailed himself as some sort of *hero*. The word scuttled in his brain like a beetle and he wished he could pick it out and discard it, but it was a word he was sure would be pinned on him non-the-less, and might even have been already however little he wanted it to be so. Like Miss Granger, he had placed himself knowingly in a role that many would have run from. But he had had a genuine reason for his actions, there was more to it all than a simple natural desire to be a *good person*, another thought that seemed to bob endlessly in his rediscovered mind like a buoy.

Lily.

His hand came up to his eyes and he rubbed them in turn, once more amazed that he had taught himself to silence for years the memories which clamoured now at his every thought, like strangling vines. Had it all been worth it, really, when he thought about the hours he had lost at the right hand of the Dark Lord and the years he had lost in this bleak white room. His life had been dictated by the memory of emerald eyes and long red hair and now, in the empty lonely silence of his unusual prison, he wondered once more how his life from now on could possibly be better than dying in that room as he was meant to.

The door opened and, entirely unexpectedly, Granger came in.

He felt his eyes narrow slightly at the sight of her, so he took care to resume his blank stare at the ceiling when the nurse followed her in, a blonde young man following close behind them.

�Just wait here,� the nurse said into the quiet room. �I�ll be a few minutes.�

�Please don�t rush,� Granger�s voice was hushed. There was the sound of the door opening and closing, and then hesitant steps.

�Crikey,� came the sound of a male voice, and then the two of them stepped into his line of vision. Hermione looked as tired as she was and he noticed the dark rings round her eyes as he focused on her for a moment. Mostly he tried to place a name to the man who was with her, his memory straining to see the young face of a student in the features that hovered above him, in the blurred corner of his vision.

�He is thin, i�nt he?� The man said, and his slight cockney twang was horribly familiar to the ex professor.

�*Harris*,� he rasped out of his unused throat harshly, turning his head to glare at them, amused at the way they both jumped slightly back from the bedside.

�P-professor,� Harris said then, holding out his hand. Despite the roaring ache of pain which ran through his tired arm whenever he used it, Severus decided to start as he meant to go on in this new � if unwanted � life, and shook the man�s hand.

�Thank � you,� Severus said, but the sound was barely recognisable. He swallowed, trying to work some feeling into his papery throat, but his mouth was so dry it hurt to even do that. He clenched his hand in frustration, his teeth gritted.

Granger realised his trouble and glanced around before withdrawing her wand and casting a small glass of water.

�Watch out for Mary, Ben,� she said as she hovered over him, moving the glass gently towards his mouth. As her hand came nearer, though, he couldn�t help but flinch away. Her do-good attitude was still as annoying as it seemed to be persistent. She glared at him with obvious determination then, and he reached out his hand and took the glass from her, before she forced the damn thing up his nose.

The water was sloshing in his shaking hand and it hurt to crane his neck in order to drink, but once he managed it he took what seemed like endless gulps from the glass, its small size belying the amount of fresh cool water it could provide. It was the most glorious feeling, the taste and feel of it he appreciated on a level he could not have imagined before now, he realised suddenly how good life would be beyond this room if water alone could seem so wonderful. Once he was done he tried to hand the glass back to Granger, but she stood there looking gormless instead of reaching to take it from him, and in his frustration he simply tossed it away. It disappeared into thin air before he had the satisfaction of hearing it shatter.

�Thank you,� he said, trying to speak again. The water had been like a gift from beyond and had helped bring some of the sound back to his voice, but his throat still felt rough, it still hurt to even whisper. He reached out and grabbed at her hand, his fingers pinching almost painfully at the tips of her own, and he looked into her tired eyes.

Thank you, he thought, not dragging her into the blackness of full legilimency this time but merely whispering into her mind. For acting so promptly.

�Here comes Mary,� Harris called from near the door.

He wasn�t sure at first whether she heard him, she just narrowed her eyes and pulled her fingers from his grasp. Before she turned away, however, she nodded quickly once. An acknowledgment.

Severus quickly lay back and stared once more at twenty six awful, dirty ceiling tiles. The door opened and Mary came in, carrying papers with her.

�Sorry about that,� she said, and Hermione shook her head.

�Oh, please,� she reassured the nurse. �You are the one doing us a great favour.�

�I�m only pleased that Seth might be able to return to a place he is more comfortable. Are you certain the university doesn�t mind taking him on?� The nurse looked at the young witch and wizard in earnest, and then turned to look down at him, lying as still as he possibly could on the bed. �I�m afraid you both must realise what a very slim chance he really has.�

�Yes, we realise that,� Harris said, turning to look at Granger for a second.

�The hospice is actually not very far from his old school,� the young witch said, pointing at one of the papers she had taken from the night nurse. �I have spoken to the Headmistress and she is trying to contact what family he has. Hopefully they will be able to make the right decisions for him.�

All three of them turned to look at him then, and his eyes were straining with the effort of staring upwards, now that he was so aware of their attention.

�Well, I�ve signed the ward release for you, and I can finish the transportation arrangements myself as well if you�d like?�

�That would be wonderful, thank you Mary,� Granger said.

�The transfer papers, though, they are going to be more of a problem.� The nurse must have seen the fear in the faces of the two pretenders since she smiled and said, �Only because it needs to be signed by a consultant, both at this end and at the hospice. That shouldn�t be too much of a hassle here, since Doctor Bennet will be doing his rounds today. I can leave it for his immediate attention. I�ll tell him they came through over the weekend. I assume there will be no trouble in getting the papers signed by a senior doctor once he reaches the university facilities?�

Severus felt a chill run through his good arm while trying not to smirk at the same time, he saw the sway of Granger�s copious hair as she turned her head quickly to look at Harris, too quickly. The young wizard smoothly took his cue, however, and spoke out in a clear voice before the silence almost became too long of a pause.

�Oh yes,� he said with gusto, and the ex-teacher fought the urge to roll his dark eyes in distain. Then the youth continued and, by the end of it, he might almost have seemed convincing. �Our senior doctor will be waiting for him, in fact I believe she is at the home preparing for his arrival already. She has promised to personally oversee his transferral, as well as his treatments and progress over the next few days.� He shifted his weight just a little, uncomfortably. �At least,� he added.

There was a moment or two of silence then, more then a pause, while Mary�s brow wrinkled ever so slightly and she took in the both of them with a steady and even gaze. She glanced down at Severus too, her wise eyes taking in the equipment around him, his lifeless body. She pursed her lips, and another moment passed while she weighed everything up in her mind, and then there was a smile on her lips as she spoke.

�Well, I think we should arrange the ambulance for six p.m.,� she told them. �That�s probably the best way to be certain that all of the forms will be signed.�

�Thank you so much for helping with this,� Granger told the nurse. �Really Mary,� she said keenly. �You won�t regret this.� The nurse looked right into the witch�s eyes, and then gave the smallest of nods, and another hint of a smile.

�We weren�t really sure what to do with the forms once we got here,� Granger continued. �I swear sometimes they try to not tell us anything!�

�It was the same when I was training, don�t worry. I�m just pleased I could help Seth, as I�ve said. Thank you for finding his family.�

�It was the least we could do,� Harris said, shaking Mary�s hand.

�I don�t suppose I�ll see you again,� Mary said as she opened the door and walked from the room. Her voice still carried though, as she moved down the corridor, as did Harris�.

�We will of course send news when there is any,� he told her.

�Six p.m. it is, then,� Granger said, and he realised that her voice was still nearer, in the room. He looked across to the doorway to see her hovering half in and half out. He narrowed his eyes at her again, and instead of fleeing as he thought she would do, she annoyed him all the more by smirking back at him. �Alright, professor?� she asked.

He nodded his head, and then she was gone. The idea of Granger and Harris � a bigger pair of arrogant muggle-borns he couldn�t have possibly conceived � being able to waltz into this hellish place and effectively steal his body with what looked like very little effort was an amusing thought, but did not occupy his mind as much as the small courtesy the Granger girl had granted him, being that she was the first person in over five years to actually bother to ask for his opinion. And this, too, paled in comparison to his third thought. Not a thought now, but a number: a time. Six p.m., and then he could leave that awful place forever.

================================

It was coming up to five before Hermione and Benjamin had got themselves together and began to make their way back to the hospital. The arrangements they had made with the night nurse appeared to have gone smoothly so far, but nothing was sure or certain until they had the professor in their possession, so to speak, and there were still several obstacles that had to be overcome before that happened. Hermione had been persuaded to sleep a little during the day before they returned to the silence of the haunting ward, since not only would they have to deal with the scrutiny of Irene, the day nurse, but it had also been decided that she would be the one to ride in the ambulance. It was a fairly long journey, and she would need to keep her concentration.

In the time it took for her to drift into sleep, she couldn�t help be feel anxious over the journey ahead, and what it might entail. George and Arthur�s worries over what might happen haunted her, although she had not had the courage as yet to approach them on the subject and at the same time admit to her own nosing, but she could not shake the feeling that something might go wrong � even now � and halt Snape�s recovery in its path. She desperately wanted to visit Dumbledore again, but that was going to be impossible today, with so much to be done and so little time.

When she and Harris stood facing each other in the hallway of Grimmauld Place, eyeing each other up critically once more before heading out to apparate, she could not seem to help the fluttering of apprehension that swirled around in her stomach.

It was still light outside once they appeared amongst the trees in the small urban park, it was even quite warm still, the summer weather leaving a balmy heat to the evening. There was over a quarter of an hour before they were due on the ward, and they took the time to stroll along the tarmac paths, taking advantage of the weather and the park. Around them people were playing with their children, talking to friend and strangers or simply sitting on the benches, staring at carefully planted flowerbeds where the bright pansies were wilting sadly due to the days of nothing but sun.

Hermione�s mind seemed to fray in the heat as well, unravelling somehow, so that she could not seem to concentrate on anything for very long at all. She tried to recite the medical terminology she had been revising before leaving the townhouse but the words slipped away from her like eels in the ocean.

�Ready?� Benjamin asked her, glancing her way and smiling as they walked side by side.

�I hope so,� she replied with a smile, while inside she felt the sinking fear of failure creeping. It was a feeling she was becoming horribly familiar with.

�We�ll have to be, won�t we?� Harris said as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Again Hermione�s thoughts twisted and turned, she wondered if it had been a mistake to rush things forward quite so quickly, even with the effort everyone had invested it was still hard to believe that it would all run smoothly. She looked up at the building across the street, spread out on both sides and several stories high, a monolith of glass and refracted light. She remembered the sharp and sickly smell inside, the winding corridors and bleak white room, and she remembered why they were rushing so desperately. Snape did not deserve to wait any longer than was absolutely necessary in that place. She held her chin high then, smiling across at Benjamin, wearing the confidence that comes from knowing suddenly that failure is simply not an option.

�Don�t worry Ben,� she said as she pressed the button at the crossing, and he smiled at her broadly as they hurried across. He was shining with a similar confidence to hers as he spoke.

�I�m not worried,� he lied smoothly. �As Arthur would say, it will be easy as pie.�

They both chuckled as they walked into the entrance hall.

�I�m a bit wary of what the nurse will have to say,� Hermione confided as they climbed the stairs and headed down the echoing corridors. �Irene, the day nurse,� she explained. �I�m not sure how she�ll take the news of *Seppy�s* departure,� she joked, making her voice slightly strained and sharp. Harris didn�t seem to get the reference, and she supposed then that he wouldn�t, but he changed the subject slightly anyway.

�Better anyone than Mary,� he said, looking down at the polished floor but with the wide smile on his good looking face. �My, but she was a knowing one,� he said through his smile. �She suspected us. She knew.�

�Yes, she did,� Hermione agreed, smiling too. �She saw right through us.�

�Yet here we are,� Benjamin said as they both paused, stopping outside the double swing doors which lead to Snape�s ward. Hermione took a deep breath, smelling the tingling odour of disinfectant as she did so, the hospital choking her lungs.

�Here we are,� she repeated, and they pushed through the doors.

Irene was there of course, and if Harris hadn�t understood Hermione�s impersonation before, he certainly did after just a few brief minutes in her company. What they hadn�t expected was for Mary to be there also, but she was, along with a tall black man with a greying beard and hair. The latter turned out to be Doctor Bennet, who had supervised Seth Merlock�s general well being and comfort for the past two years, as far as she could tell. There was also a third nurse, a petite woman who looked well into her forties, who smiled shyly all the time and didn�t say anything at all, it seemed. All of them were crowded round the small desk that was the nurse�s station, an intimidating group of people, and Hermione felt her confidence waver just a very little as they approached.

�It really is a shame to see Seppy go, that�s for sure,� Irene was saying quickly, her words almost running together as they came out so fast. �Well, he�s been here so long now we almost thought of him as part of the furniture, but I suppose it might do him some good to have a change of scenery, and hopefully a familiar face or two.�

�I understand the place of transferral is a student research facility,� Dr. Bennet spoke with a more serious tone. �I assume it is properly equipped to provide the adequate care and attention this patient needs? The intravenous therapy, physiotherapy to prevent bedsores and muscle atrophy, everything of this nature will be addressed?�

�Of course, Dr. Bennet,� Hermione began to assure him. Harris reassured the doctor too, and the man nodded at the both of them as they spoke, and Mary smiled at his side knowingly.

�Well I cannot argue against these papers,� Dr. Bennet said at length, and he tore the pink slips from the back of each of them, retaining them while he handed the white ones back to her with the yellow copies still attached.

�I�ll see that these are filed with the university and in his NHS records as soon as we arrive,� Hemione said firmly, and when the doctor smiled at her kindly with a small nod she was very glad indeed that she had thoroughly revised her paperwork before leaving Grimmauld Place.

�Of course you can�t expect them to hang around forever,� Irene was saying, still talking in a kind of pretend whisper which carried only a little more quietly than her usual bawdy conversation. Nobody appeared to be listening apart from the shy little nurse, who stood beside the chatty woman bravely, seeming to listen intently with a passive look on her silent face.

�Did you hear about Amy?� Irene didn�t stop. �Well her parents have decided to press the switch,� she whispered. Harris seemed to be engaging Dr. Bennet more than efficiently, so Hermione let herself focus on the one sided conversation between the two women.

�Yes, Friday,� Irene nodded, though the small woman hadn�t appeared to say anything still. �The poor mother was heartbroken, but there we are.�

�Oh dear,� the petite nurse said, and though it was only two words they were kindly spoken and heartfelt.

�It�s changed so since you left, Val. What with Seppy going too, well then there�ll only be three left. Well still better that than any more, lets hope we don�t have any more coming to us for a while at least � �

The sound of Irene�s chatter continued to echo, as did the conversation between Benjamin and Dr. Bennet, but Hermione found herself thinking quietly. Suddenly, sadly, she could not help but think of the others in the ward behind the closed doors in white rooms like Snape's, and the many more who would come in the future, and she wished there was a way she could help them all as well as the people who cared for them so tirelessly. The thought did not linger as long as it should since something else caught her attention.

�Mr. Merlock has been sedated of course,� Dr. Bennet said, and Hermione turned to look at him, startled.

�Sedated?� she called out, the one word sounding almost like a cry.

�It�s standard procedure,� the doctor said with a wavering tone, and his forehead creased ever so slightly as he eyed her over. She swallowed.

�Of course,� she said, forcing a breathy laugh at herself which sounded almost natural. �Er � I understood that he has been suffering from some sort of sporadic seizures,� she added quickly, smoothly hitting on a good enough cover and determinedly not looking at Mary. �For a moment I thought � �

�Oh, no, no.� Dr. Bennet smiled then as he understood her meaning. �No, we just sedate them to hopefully make the journeys less of a strain. He should be out for the length of the trip, possibly through the night as well.�

Hermione nodded, doubting as to whether it would have been the Professor�s choice to be medically sedated, but also knowing that they had to go along with the fixed procedures of the service. A porter came to wheel him from the white room, and the group of people in the ward trailed out into the corridor, waiting for the elevator.

�Take good care of him, won�t you?� Irene asked, as she daintily dabbed her eyes with a cotton handkerchief.

Hermione realised then that, far from being a force of reckoning sent to find her and Harris out, the doctor and nurses had really gathered purely to wish farewell to a patient who had been in their care for many years. She continued to reassure them all until the doors of the lift slid shut.

==============================

Harris had remained on the ward with Dr. Bennet and the nurses, since the plan was for him to apparate to Grimmauld Place and then floo to her parent�s house from there, and it wouldn�t do for him to be seen by the ambulance staff at both ends. Hermione was almost alone then, as she sat in the back of the strange transportation with the professor�s sleeping body on the trolley next to her, and she thought they would be alone in the back for the whole journey before the doors opened at the last minute and a man in his fifties jumped inside.

�Hi, the name�s Dave,� he said with a quick handshake, fastening a seatbelt across his lap.

Hermione had feared this trip more than anything else, certain that conversation with a professional medical muggle over the two hour long journey would lead to her being discovered as a fraud, the hasty revision she had done was not nearly enough to fill several hours of deep discussion. She was more than relieved when Dave admitted readily that he was only a volunteer himself, a member of the St. John�s ambulance service, who sometimes filled in as an extra man when the NHS were moving people or similar. In fact he didn�t really seem to want to talk about medicine at all, and the miles began to wind away as they found more interesting topics to discuss, everything from the condition and past career of Seth Merlock to the films and books they both enjoyed.

The company was easy enough, but it could not make up for the journey, which was beginning to become nightmarish. They had been on the motorway leading out of the city and into the greener country to the north when they had run into a traffic jam, the stalled cars and lorries all moving at a crawling pace, keeping everything blocked for over an hour. The two paramedics in the cab called through to the back, giving updates and shouting witty remarks, and the feel of the little group of people was not unpleasant. But the minutes wore on and on. Eventually Dave leant forward and called out.

�Pete!�

The paramedic in the passenger seat up front turned and looked at them through the available gap.

�Ask Mike to pull up somewhere when he can, huh?� Dave whispered. �Nature�s calling.�

The ambulance eventually rumbled into some services and Mike the driver pulled up in the car park. Dave almost flung himself from the back of the van, leaving the doors open as he headed for the toilets, and Hermione was surprised to see how dark it was outside. They must have been driving for even longer than she thought.

A sudden movement beside her made her jump and she realised that Snape had been flexing his arm. She touched his hand and his eyes flew open, almost immediately staring into her own, and she felt rather than heard his voice in her mind.

Where are we?

She could feel his medicated drowsiness washing over her with his words, lulling her slightly with its potency, but she forced herself to concentrate and think the answer to his question.

In an ambulance, driving to my parent�s house. Professor McGonagall and Harris are waiting there with the bezoar. It shouldn�t be much longer. There have been some delays.

The drowsiness was gone as quickly as it had come when he closed his eyes, she wondered if he had fallen asleep just as a voice spoke behind her and startled her, Pete the paramedic had climbed up into the compartment.

�How�s he doing?�

�Fine.� She answered vaguely.

�We�re at the services off junction nine,� Pete said as he checked the readings from several of the machines, noting them down and the time on Snape�s chart with a biro.

�Yes, I know it,� Hermione replied.

�Good job.� The man looked up at her and smiled. �Mike was wondering if you would hop up front and give him directions when he ends up needing them?�

�Of course,� she answered and she climbed out of the doors, hesitating in the warm breeze of the evening before climbing into the cab at the front with Mike.

The traffic was clear by the time they were on the road again, the queues seeming to disappear into nothing as traffic jams tend to do, and before long Hermione was directing them along the winding B-roads which lead to her family�s farmhouse. The driveway was spacious enough at the front of the house for them to park and unload him, the light above the porch giving out a white and medical light, illuminating a plaque with a trite hospice name and the badge of the university she was misrepresenting engraved on polished brass. She hesitated a second, her mind comparing the shiny yet discrete notice with the large, gaudy signs she remembered being plastered outside the London hospital. For a terrible moment she feared going inside, in case the paramedics should see an interior that was not at all fitting, but then the trolley was being wheeled towards the house and the door opened. She needn�t have worried.

Benjamin was dressed in a clean white coat, a different laminated pass clipped to his chest, and he lead the paramedics into the house with Hermione following open mouthed behind them. The floor was not clean carpet but an easy to mop parquet, the walls were white and bare, the sitting room no longer appeared in any way to be part of a country farmhouse. Again the walls were blank and white, mint-ish coloured blinds pulled down at the window, a massive hospital bed the only thing filling the space aside from trollys laden with equipment and machinery.

�Very nice,� Mike said as he glanced around and behind hurriedly, wheeling one end of the trolley to line up next to the bed. �Here we are then. You grab that side, Dave.�

Dave quickly stepped round to the opposite side of the large hospital bed, and it surprised Hermione to see Harris step forward too, reaching with the man across the mattress to the trolly on the other side.

�One, two, three,� Mike said, and the four men lifted Snape across onto the bed using the blanket beneath him, in one swift well-timed movement.

�Will you be signing the transfer?� Pete asked Harris as he held out a clipboard.

�I�m only an intern,� Harris said quickly.

�I�m the senior doctor,� a voice interrupted, and Hermione goggled again to see Professor McGonagall appear with very neat hair and a white coat on also.

�Elizabeth Minerva,� she said briskly, shaking hands with the three men and peering at them over the rims of a pair of dark rimmed glasses. �Thank you very much for bringing Mr. Merlock to us,� she said as she took Pete�s pen and signed the form with a flourish. �Harris, set up the IV.�

Again Harris acted swiftly and surely, hanging a bag of clear fluid on a thin wire stand, and quickly untangling a length of tube.

�He has been sedated?� McGonagall asked as she flipped open his chart, and the two paramedics nodded at her.

�25cc�s� Mike said. The headmistress looked as if it meant something to her.

�I expect you�ll be wanting to head off,� she said, and far from looking offended the three men smiled at her and nodded.

�If you don�t need anything else,� Mike said as they headed towards the door.

�No, no. Thank you,� Minerva said, and just like that they were gone. Harris stopped fiddling with the drip and looked up at Hermione, laughing at her questioning look.

�Where did you learn that?� She asked him.

�E.R.,� he said with a wink. She still looked confused. �It�s television,� he elaborated with a smile, and she laughed and rolled her eyes at him.

�Thank goodness you came when you did,� the headmistress said as she strode towards the bed, everything around them begging to change. The bed shrank back into a sofa, the trays of equipment morphing back into ornaments and picture frames, the plush carpet returning in a surreal and dream-like moment. �I couldn�t have kept that going for much longer.�

�Remarkable,� Hermione said simply, looking round the all too familiar sitting room.

�Hold his head back, Harris,� Professor McGonagall said firmly then, and Benjamin only hesitated for a moment before putting his hands in the man's greasy hair and tilting his mouth open. Minerva gripped his chin to pull it open a little more and, without another word, shoved a large smooth pebble into Snape�s mouth.

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A/N: Thank you very much for reading. Please review!

Some English-isms: NHS is the National Health Service, St John�s Ambulance Service is a volunteer first aid scheme. I don�t know anything about medicine so what he had 25 �cc�s� of I don�t know, and it probably would kill him but you know what I mean.
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All Wounds Heal In Time