Evil Personified

Chapter One

Minerva McGonagall watched with satisfaction as tiny Professor Flitwick put the final decorations in place. The enchanted sky above them was now shooting off multicolored fireworks.

"You have outdone yourself," she was saying with a smile. "The decorations are lovely."

"It won't matter," Filius replied sagely. "The entire wizarding world is so excited about the victory that I'm not sure they will notice."

"That is precisely why Albus canceled the final examinations this year. None of the students will calm down, and they were up most of the night last night having private parties." The witch couldn't help but grin at the thought of what had probably been going on behind her back in her own house. She might be old now, but she clearly remembered her own youth.

"Is Harry Potter still in the hospital wing?"

"Yes, but Poppy said that he should be recovered enough from his wounds to attend the party tonight."

"And Severus?"

"Severus is still out cold. It was a terrible cruciatus that was thrown at him, and if it hadn't been for Harry and Albus, he might not have survived."

Filius looked somber as he lowered his wand, the last bit of bunting in place.

"I shall make it a point to stop by the hospital wing and check on him."


"That would be a good idea. I have to return upstairs to report to Albus, and make some last minute preparations."

The two departed the great hall, and Filius went to the hospital to check on the Potions Master.

~*~

Filius found Severus Snape still unconscious. He was surprised to see Hermione Granger sitting next to his bed, looking concerned.

"Hello, Miss Granger," Filius said. "Are you helping out today?"

For some reason, the girl flushed and looked as if she were embarrassed.

"I came by to see Harry and Ron," Hermione explained, "And I stopped to check on Professor Snape."

"That's very nice that you would be concerned for him. I'm sure that Severus would appreciate it."

Not likely, Hermione thought glumly. If the Professor were conscious enough to know she was sitting next to his bed he would be spewing venom in her direction. She had been lucky enough to escape harm during the final battle, but seeing the Professor fall had been devastating to her. She had told no one of her feelings for him, and it was hard to hide the fact that she was deathly afraid that he would die.

"I wouldn't worry, Miss Granger. I'm certain that both Madame Pomfrey and the Headmaster will see to a safe recovery for him."

He patted the girl on the shoulder, and gave her an encouraging smile. She was such a sweet, smart thing. Always trying to help everyone out. It was a shame that Severus couldn't stand sweetness. If he were awake it would be unlikely he would cooperate and continue lying in bed, curse or not.

"I must be going," Filius explained. "I just wanted to check in and see if Severus' condition had changed. You are coming to the celebration tonight?"

"Yes, Sir," Hermione replied, wishing Filius would just go away. Poppy had not objected to her sitting here, since it had given her a chance to go and tend to those that were ready to be released. It was bliss for Hermione to be able to sit behind the curtains and be with a Snape that wasn't snarking for once. She had no doubt in her mind that he would make up for it later.

The little Professor went on his way and Hermione turned back to the unconscious Snape. He looked peaceful, his black lashes lying against pale cheeks. Hermione studied the planes of his face, the cheekbones and the thin lips. His hands lay outside the covers, by his sides.

Those hands. Hermione took a deep breath. How many times she'd looked at them, caressing a test tube or a potions text and tried to imagine what it would feel like to have them on her. Slowly, she reached out and touched his hand that was nearest to her. The skin was soft, only sparsely furred with black hairs. Her fingers wrapped around the hand, holding it. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked hard. It wouldn't do for anyone to see her cry.

"Hermione?"

She dropped the Professor's hand quickly and folded her hands in her lap guiltily. Madame Pomfrey put her head around the curtain.

"You can go, dear, I'm through making my rounds," she explained. "I'm sure you have things to do besides sit here."

"I don't mind at all, Madame Pomfrey. I'm glad to be able to help you," Hermione replied.

Poppy looked at the girl keenly. She looked a bit red in the face and nervous.

"Be that as it may be, you go ahead. I know you need to ready yourself for the celebration. I have just released Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, and they're waiting for you in the hall," Poppy said firmly, sitting down her tray of potions and bending over the Professor.

Hermione was summarily dismissed, and she had no choice but to leave. She managed to mask her disappointment as she walked out into the hall. Ron was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and Harry was talking to him.

"There you are 'Mione. Did you finally decide to stop playing mediwitch and let Madame Pomfrey have her job back?" Ron asked.

"I was only trying to help, Ron. There were too many in there for Madame Pomfrey to handle alone."

"She took care of me well enough," Harry said. "That potion she gave me yesterday evening healed my cuts and didn't leave a scar." He held out his arms for them to inspect.

"You're a bloody hero, Harry," Ron said as they began the long walk up to Gryffindor tower. "I'll bet that you'll be all over the Daily Prophet."

"I don't care," Harry said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. "I'm just glad that Voldemort is dead and the war is over."

"So is everyone else. And we even get out of final exams!"

"I think that's ridiculous," Hermione said. "There really is no reason to cancel the exams, especially after we've studied all year long for them."

"Maybe YOU did, but I personally am glad that we don't have to deal with them," Ron rummaged in the pocket of his robe and withdrew a bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. "Want a bean?"

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione frowned at him. "All you ever think about is your stomach. I wonder if I could take the exams anyway if I go and ask Professor McGonagall."

"You can take exams if you want," Ron replied, "But I, for one, am going to enjoy myself. Another week and we're out of here for the summer."

The summer. Another summer spent between the burrow and number 12 Grimmauld Place. Another summer of watching Ron and Harry argue about girls and quidditch. Hermione inwardly sighed. Now that the war was over she knew that the members of the Order would be coming and going less. In short, her chances of seeing Snape had been reduced.

She crawled silently through the portrait hole after the boys and went to her room, thankful that as Head Girl she had a place all to herself. She forced herself to bury her nose in her books and study. It was hell being a teenage witch who was in love with her teacher. And the bad thing was there was nothing that she could do about it.

~*~

Severus Snape moaned in his sleep. He was still in some pain from the cruciatus that Voldemort had flung at him, worse than he had ever received before. He struggled to open his eyes, but found that he couldn't. His eyelids felt heavy and he gave in to the fatigue that urged him to rest. He couldn't still be in battle. He'd been vaguely aware of someone holding his hand, someone that smelled like jasmine. Then they were gone and he was sinking back into blessed blackness where there was no pain.

Poppy heard the slight noise and hurriedly checked on the Professor. She realized that he had been dreaming again. Not unusual, considering the circumstances. He'd been through a lot, and this was not the first time that she'd had to help him recover from the effects of the cruciatus curse. Many times he'd come back from meetings with the dark lord in bad shape. At least now, she reasoned; Voldemort was dead and life could finally continue in peace.

The Order had lost many members over the years to the war, and in the last battle, even Dumbledore himself had not escaped injury. The revered Headmaster of Hogwarts had refused treatment until Minerva had practically hexed him to his desk chair. The war had been hard on him, and he looked very tired and hollow eyed. Poppy had advised bed rest for at least a week plus wizard vitamins, but of course, Dumbledore ignored the advice. Once she'd magically healed his cuts and bruises, he'd gone on about his business, declaring that it was up to the remaining members of the Order to help the Ministry regain order.

Poppy mentally checked off the remaining patients she had in the wards, and satisfied that everyone had been attended to, sat down in her office for a well-needed break. It would be nice to be able to attend the celebration tonight, she thought, but duty called, and she could not leave her patients.

~*~

As night fell, the castle was ablaze with light as students began to gather in the great hall. The tables had been moved aside and were loaded with food and drink. A phantom orchestra played music for dancing. The teachers' table had been replaced with comfortable chairs for the staff to sit in if they didn't care to dance. They could still be watchful and enjoy themselves at the same time.

"May I have your attention, please," Professor McGonagall called. The music died as the room fell silent. "Thank you." She nodded to Dumbledore, who stood up.

"I see that everyone is joyous this evening," he said. "And I hope that you will help yourselves to food and dancing. However, I would like to make a short announcement. I have received word this afternoon that two of our own have been recognized for their bravery in the war."

Draco Malfoy leaned against the wall; arms crossed, and smirked at Harry. Surprisingly enough, the two young men had become friendly after Harry had saved Dracos' life during the final battle.

"That would be you, Potter," he said mockingly.

"Hush, Draco," Ginny nudged him with an elbow.

"I am most pleased to announce that The Order of Merlin, First Class is being awarded to Harry Potter. Well done, my boy."

The applause was deafening, and Harry was clapped on the back by many of those close enough to reach him.

Dumbledore held up his hands.

"Another Order of Merlin, First Class is being awarded to Professor Severus Snape for his long dedication and hard work. Unfortunately, Professor Snape is still in the hospital wing and cannot be here, but congratulations to him are still in order."

Hermione grinned and clapped loudly, as did the Slytherins. Some of the students, many of whom the Professor had deducted points or given detentions, did not.

"And, as many of you have heard, in honor of the wars' end, all final exams are canceled."

"I still think they should let us take the exams," Hermione said.

"You would," Ron glared.

"Only you would enjoy such a thing, Granger," Draco said.

"I look forward to seeing many of you return next fall. In the meantime, I bid you a good evening and ask that you conduct yourselves as model students."

More applause and the music started again as the Headmaster sat down.

"Let's eat," Ron said, helping himself to a chicken leg.

"All he ever thinks about is food," Ginny grabbed Harry's arm. "Let's dance before your admirers corner you," she glanced at some of the students headed their way.

"She means that she isn't going to share you with any other girls," Lavender laughed as Ginny glared at her, dragging Harry off to the dance floor.

"Care to dance, Draco?" Parvati asked.

Draco smirked.

"Since Potter is otherwise occupied," he replied, "I don't see why not."

"Oh, you..." she punched him in the arm, laughing. At least now his sarcasm wasn't hurtful.

Hermione watched the dancers while Ron stood next to her munching on his chicken leg.

"You're disgusting," she told Ron, who had his mouth full and was eyeing the other platters of food on the table.

"It's a celebration, 'Mione. You're supposed to eat, drink, and be merry."

Most likely, only Ron or Neville would ask her to dance anyway. Hermione found dances to be aggravating at best.

"I'm going to take Madame Pomfrey a plate," she said, deciding that it would be a good excuse to escape Ron stepping on her feet.

"I wouldn't worry about her; the house elves always send food to the staff," Neville said as he walked up.

"It wouldn't hurt to offer. Excuse me, boys."

Hermione walked off before Neville could attempt to ask her to dance.

"Don't even start," Ron told Neville. "You should know how she is by now. Completely mental."

Hermione took Poppy a plate and a goblet of pumpkin juice. The Mediwitch was bent over her tray of potions, getting organized for her rounds in the morning.

"Madame Pomfrey?"

"Hermione? Why aren't you at the party?"

"I thought you might want something to eat. I brought you a plate."

"That was thoughtful of you, dear. I could have asked the house elves."

"I know how busy you are. I thought I would offer to keep an eye on things if you would like to eat."

"I don't know..." Poppy hesitated. Everyone was asleep at the moment, pretty much settled in for the night. She looked dubiously at Hermione, then a slow smile spread across her face. "All right, if you don't mind doing it, I think I will go down to my rooms to eat. Now you be sure to call me if someone wakes up and needs me."

"I will," Hermione promised.

"I won't be long."

"Take your time."

Poppy looked at the young woman.

"You really don't like dances, do you?"

"No," Hermione pushed an errant curl out of her eyes. "I just feel awkward and I usually end up standing there watching."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't either when I was your age," Poppy said, taking the plate and goblet from her. "Just summon me if you need me, otherwise I will be back shortly. And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hermione let out a deep sigh once the mediwitchs' footsteps had died away. It was better here in the hospital wing, where it was dim and quiet and she didn't have to worry about being asked to dance or not.

The curtains were still drawn around Professor Snapes' bed. Hermione peeked inside and saw that the Professor still slept, oblivious to his surroundings.

"Congratulations, Professor," she said very softly. "I'm proud of you. You finally received the Order of Merlin." She stood for a long time, looking down at him. Dark angel, she thought. He moaned, startling her.

Slowly she approached the bed, and knelt down.

"Professor?" she whispered.

He shifted restlessly, frowning in his sleep. He muttered something.

"Ssssshhhh," Hermione timidly reached out and soothingly stroked his cheek, the dark shadow of his whiskers rasping against her palm. "It's all right. The battle is over, and you're back at Hogwarts."

He twisted under her hand, still moaning.

She bent closer, her brow furrowing, hoping that she wouldn't have to call Poppy.

Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he stared up at her.

"Professor?"