Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Madrigal	By : Rotisserie_Cassowary Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7982 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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When I found out about the twofold poisonings on Weasley’s birthday, I was fit to be tied. I spent what felt like hours screaming at Draco, berating him for his carelessness and stupidity. Naturally, he was utterly dismissive of me. I tried to remind him that he couldn’t fulfill the Dark Lord’s task if he got himself expelled, but he, of course, ignored everything I said.
I wondered if he were intentionally choosing to do the most ridiculous, convoluted assassination attempts on purpose. I couldn’t imagine that this boy I’d known for literally his entire life had it in him to commit murder. He talked a big talk, but he’d always just hidden behind those oafs Crabbe and Goyle. Really, he was nothing but an over-sensitive, spoiled little boy. He was a prat, but he wasn’t a murderer.
I felt extraordinarily relieved I had left that note about the bezoar in my old copy of Advanced Potion Making. I made myself an anxious mess obsessing about everything that could have gone wrong. Gods, Weasley would have died. I should have been watching Draco more carefully. If that boy had died, it would have been my fault. No one would have known, but ultimately I would be the one to blame. Draco is too stupid, too naïve to be given such a task. The Dark Lord clearly intends for him to fail. I have no choice but to kill Dumbledore myself. I have to murder the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had... The person who made me believe that I could do better. That I could be better.
Hermione was in the hospital wing with her pet dunderheads, so I spent the evening with Ogden. I was over three-quarters of the way through the bottle and totally trashed by 10pm. I had skipped dinner, too furious to eat. I was ruminating glumly on Dumbledore when I stood up from my desk and accidently banged my knee. Tears of pain sprang to my eyes, and as they trickled down my cheek, something inside of me snapped.
All of a sudden, the entire world was crashing down around me. Tears began pouring down my face. I let out an otherworldly sound, falling to my knees in despair. My chest felt like an over-inflated balloon, and I was convinced that my heart was being crushed to death. I gasped for breath as my throat started to close. I desperately sucked wisps of air through my collapsed trachea.
I was on all fours, making horrible wheezing noises, when the wall dissolved. When Hermione saw me on the floor she sprinted over. “Severus!” she cried, lifting my chin to look up at her. She assessed my state immediately. She grabbed my shoulders, pulling me backwards into a sitting position. She pressed on my spine, thrusting my chest outward. “Inhale from your diaphragm. Let your throat relax. Let your lungs stretch. Good… good,” she commanded, assertively yet soothingly.
Over the next few minutes I felt my throat gradually open back up, and my first real lung-full of air was like heaven. But then Hermione gently took my face in her hands and asked me what had happened. I burst into uncontrollable sobs, grasping at the front of her robes desperately from my seat on the floor. She stood above me, holding my head to her stomach, stroking my hair and making calming sounds. I cried like I hadn’t since I was a small child, taking enormous, shuddering breaths between hysterical wails of misery. This went on far longer than I’d like to admit, and by the time I quieted, I was nearly delirious with emotional exhaustion.
She helped me to my feet, and supported nearly all of my weight as she guided me slowly into my bedroom. She stripped me to my underwear and pulled the sheets down for me. I just stared at the bed balefully until she gave me a little shove and commanded me to lay down. I watched distantly as she removed her school robes, leaving just a tank-top and tights. She climbed into bed next to me and pulled me close. She settled my head on her chest, kissing my hair affectionately. At the touch of her lips, tears began leaking from my eyes again.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Hermione. What am I going to do without you?” I mumbled drunkenly. “Hush. You’re never going to be without me. Never.” She hummed to me soothingly, caressing my hair and face, until I finally calmed enough to fall into a troubled sleep.
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