AFTERWARDS

Harry sat, half asleep, slumped in a soft armchair he had pulled up next to the sick Professor. A moaning noise came from the bed and Harry shot up, his wand in his hand, until he realised the moan had come from the pale lips of Severus Snape.

‘Professor?’ He spoke quietly, looking into his face. Harry could see beads of sweat glistening on his top lip, his head was moving from side to side, a low groan in his throat.

‘Professor, don’t try to move… you’re sick, but Hermione will help… please, Sir, try and stay calm….’ Harry felt helpless. ‘Hurry up Hermione.’ He whispered through pursed lips as he looked down at the delirious patient.

A moment later she burst through the door, panic on her face, breathless from running. ‘Sometimes I hate the fact you can’t apparate in and out of Hogwarts!’ She exclaimed and Harry smiled in spite of himself. ‘How is he?’ She asked and quickly removed the flasks of potion, looking with concern at the Professor.

‘Not good… I can’t tell.’ Harry stepped aside and Hermione gently lifted the Professor’s head and tipped one flask of potion into his mouth followed by a small phial of sleep draught.

Hermione looked at Harry. ‘We need food…and we need to get him to the hospital wing, but we can take him yet. You need to tell people the truth, Harry, otherwise he won’t be safe.’

Harry nodded. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

Hermione didn’t watch him leave but turned back to the Professor. She was relieved to see he had calmed and drifted back to sleep. She wrung out a damp cloth and cleaned the festering wound at his neck. The neat tincture of dittany she had applied had stopped the bleeding but not the poison and she gently sloughed away the dried blood before drying it with a quick charm.

Raising her lit wand, she looked at his face. His skin was still paler than she had ever seen it and was clammy, a sign his body was fighting the poison. He had lost weight, his dark hair fell in greasy lengths against the pillow. Hermione continued to stare at his face, his long angular nose, his lips set, and mouth slightly down turned. She had memorised every line, every inch of sallow skin every expression that crossed his face and every hint of emotion that flashed in his dark eyes, since her first year at Hogwarts. Granted, that was usually anger or sarcasm, but Hermione always felt in her heart there was more to him and tonight she knew it was true. He had the capacity to love and had loved Lily Evans with all of his heart. A small tear ran down her face as she remembered what Harry had told her. ‘Poor Severus…’ She thought and shocked herself. When had she stopped thinking of him as her Professor and started to think of him as Severus?

Hermione turned her attention to the rest of the room. She shivered and realised that she was cold as well as hungry. She cast a spell quickly and blue flames appeared in the fireplace, warming the dark space and casting a soft, blue glow. She pulled the armchair closer to the fire and curled up into it, running her fingers through her tangled curls. She hadn’t showered in days and sniffed herself ruefully before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.


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