Saving your life

She heard soft voices around her, and she slowly opened her eyes to find herself at headquarters. She had lost count of the times had she woken up like that lately. She wanted to sit up, but then remembered her wounds, and decided against it.

“Hermione?” someone asked, and she saw Harry and Ron move closer, looking at her with concerned expressions.

“Hey,” she answered, forcing herself to smile, if only to help them calm down.

“How are you feeling? Does it hurt?” Ron asked, and she simply shook her head. They must have given her something for the pain, because she remembered how much it had hurt before.

“So what happened? How did you get hurt?” Harry asked. Didn’t they know already? Someone had taken her there; why hadn’t they told them what had happened.

Maybe there was a reason why they didn’t know, and she would wait until she found out “How did I get here?” she asked, after a moment, ignoring Harry’s questions.

“Kingsley brought you,” Harry answered, and she frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Ron answered, looking worried again.

“It’s nothing, really. I just don’t remember him being there.”

“What do you remember?”

“Good, you are awake! How are you feeling, dear?” Madam Pomfrey interrupted, as she pushed both boys to the side to get closer to her. Hermione couldn’t be happier to see her. She wasn’t sure how to answer Ron’s question. “Don’t speak, dear,” she said, when Hermione opened her mouth to answer. “Out, out, both of you, out,” she said, after a moment, when she realized her patient was uneasy. “I have to check my patient, and you both need to leave”

She heard them groan and complain for a few moments, and then they left, and the room was quiet again.

“Let’s take a look, now,” Madam Pomfrey said, as she carefully rolled Hermione’s top up. “Good, it’s healing quite nicely,” the woman said, and Hermione sat up a bit, trying to see the wounds. All the blood was gone now, she remembered so much blood. But the cuts seemed so small; barely pink lines remained to mar her skin. “The lines should be gone in a few more hours,” she added, when she followed Hermione’s gaze. “Luckily, it won’t leave a scar.”

“How…?” Hermione started, her fingers tracing the marks, and she was too surprised to finish the sentence. She had been stabbed, and the wounds had almost killed her. It was strange to see they were no more than thin reddened lines now.

“You were lucky Kingsley brought you here so fast,” the woman replied. “He called Severus right away. Some impressive bits of magic he performed. The potions…” she said, dreamily. It was obvious the mediwitch envied Snape’s skills, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at her.

She wanted to ask more about what had happened, but she wasn’t sure where to start. Madam Pomfrey probably wasn’t the best person to ask, so she just lay back down and let her do her job in silence. A few more minutes had passed when she heard a knock on the door, and they both looked up, startled.

The door creaked opened slightly, and then she heard Kingsley’s deep voice from the hallway. “Can I come in?”

Madam Pomfrey quickly walked to the door, opening it all the way.

“How can I help you?” she asked, as she stood in front of Kingsley.

“Actually, I needed to talk to Hermione,” he said, looking past the witch’s shoulder, his gaze on Hermione. His eyes flicked down for a moment too long, resting on her bare abdomen before going back to her face.

“I don’t think that is a good idea, Kingsley. She needs some more rest,” she replied.

“It is important. I promise I won’t disturb her,” he said, his voice firm, as his eyes turned back to the witch before him.

“It’s okay, I’m not tired,” she answered, sitting up and rolling her shirt back down. The witch huffed, but let him in all the same.

“I would like to speak with her alone, if you don’t mind, Poppy,” he said, and after a few moment’s consideration, the witch finally walked out of the room with another huff.

She remained silent as she watched Kingsley turn to the door, wand in hand, and set a few wards around the room, so that no one would hear what they were saying. Then, just as calmly, he walked to her side, pulled the only chair around closer, and sat by her bed.

“Thank you,” she muttered, after a few moments.

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“I was told you were the one that brought me here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, and relaxed a little in the chair.

“How long have I been here?”

“You got here last night.”

Well, that wasn’t so bad; she was afraid it might have been longer. They stayed in silence for a few minutes, until he finally spoke.

“What happened last night?”

“How much do you know?” she asked. She wasn’t trying to dodge the question; she just wanted to know what had happened.

“Only what Severus told me. He called me, and when I got there I found Bellatrix Lestrange dead on the floor. There was blood everywhere, and when I looked around, I saw you on the floor as well, and him kneeling next to you, trying to stop the bleeding. I thought you were dead,” he said, so low she could barely hear it.

“Bellatrix is dead?” she asked, confused. She had asked Snape not to kill her, but she also remembered the flash of green light before she passed out.

“Yes. Severus said he had killed her.”

“And there was no one else in there?”

“Just two more Death Eaters,” he said. “You were expecting me to find someone else?” he asked then, carefully searching her face, trying to read her expression.

“I…I don’t know. It all happened so fast, and I was hurt and I was bleeding so much. It’s hard to separate one event from the other, they are all just running together right now,” she sighed.

“Let’s start with the facts, then. You were stabbed,” he said, calmly.

“Yes.”

“Who did it?” he asked. Should she say the truth? She considered it, and took a deep breath before answering.

“Lucius Malfoy.” Kingsley nodded; he wasn’t surprised. He probably knew that already, she thought.

“Why?”

“He knew Snape was a traitor. I guess he wanted to punish him for his betrayal to the Death Eaters.”

“Then why take you as well?”

“He knew I was helping,” she answered, after a few moments.

“But Lucius Malfoy wasn’t there when I found you. Where is he?” he asked, then.

She wasn’t sure what the answer to that question was. She could remember the stabs, the blinding pain, and then Draco storming in and attacking his father. Then he had done something else, she wasn’t sure what, but Lucius had vanished. He had probably made a Portkey and sent him away, she thought.

“I’m not sure. I think he Apparated away at some point. I can’t remember exactly what happened,” she said, her voice suddenly trembling at the memory of what that man had done to her.

“I understand,” Kingsley said, and she was glad he didn’t push it any further.

“I wish I could be of more help.”

“I know about Draco,” he said, after a few moments. His voice as calm as usual, his eyes still fixed on hers, and she was sure he could hear her heart beat wildly from where he was sitting.

“You do?”

“Severus said he had contacted you; that his aunt had ordered him to get information through you, and then kill you.”

“I’m not… I…” she stammered, unable to think straight.

“He said you didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t,” she answered. “He contacted me after I’d lost my memories. He made me believe he was the one I had been working with,” she added, and he nodded. She might not have been sure before, but now she knew she could trust Kingsley.

“But it had been Severus all along,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“He told you?” she asked, surprised. He nodded.

“He said Draco used you to get some information. Is it true?”

“No. Not really,” she answered. “I never would have done anything to risk the Order, or Harry. You know I…”

“I know,” he interrupted. Then he waited in silence for her to continue.

She nibbled on her lower lip, trying to find a way to explain something she didn’t fully understand herself.

“I only gave him information once, and knowing he would pass it along.” Kingsley remained silent, and she was glad to see he wasn’t judging her, just listening. “One night, after Harry, Ron and I had left headquarters, he contacted me. He said he had been tortured by his aunt, and he would be killed if he didn’t give her something good. I told him the three of us had left headquarters, nothing more. I knew Voldemort would find that out soon, anyway.”

“Severus told me you were attacked, soon after. Maybe Draco followed you somehow…”

“No, he didn’t. I don’t know how they found out where we were, but it wasn’t Draco.”

“That is not what Severus said. He believes Draco has been using you to gather information, and has been passing it along to his Master.”

“I don’t know what Draco has been doing for certain, but I can tell you what I think,” she said, and he motioned for her to continue. She wasn’t even sure why she was defending him, after what he had done. He had lied to her; he had used her. He had taken advantage of her vulnerability, of the fact that her memories had been taken away, and still, she was defending him. “He helped me. Us. That night we were attacked, he found us before the Death Eaters got here. If he hadn’t, we would have been captured, killed.”

“So you trust him?” he asked, after another short silence.

“I cannot say I do, with what I know now. But he helped us, and he wants Voldemort dead as much as we do. Maybe he would be willing to help the Order somehow.”

“Severus insists on making him top priority, and on turning him over to the Ministry as soon as we find him.”

“What? No, you can’t do that,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Kingsley, please, you can’t do that. He is a Death Eater. He will be left to die if the Ministry gets him.”

“You really believe he is not faithful to his Master?” he asked, serious.

“Yes, I do.”

Taking a deep breath, he seemed to consider it for a minute, before finally saying, “I will see what I can do.”

With a smile that was both a hopeful and grateful, she watched him as he got up and walked to the door.

“Oh, and Hermione…” he said, turning back to face her.

“Yes?”

“Nobody else knows about this; not all the facts. I would appreciate it if you kept it that way.”

“Of course,” she answered.

Lost in thought, she watched him lift the wards he had set before, and then step out of the room. Her eyes remained fixed on the door even after he was gone.

How could she have been so stupid? Draco had shown up, saying he was the one she had been working with, and she had simply believed him. She had been so desperate to know what she had forgotten, that she had believed it all at face value. Now Snape wanted him dead; or wanted the Ministry to take him which was basically the same thing. He didn’t care that Draco had saved her, that he had been the one to stop Lucius when he was about to kill her.

She had been a fool to believe Snape had ever cared for her at all. He had said everything would be all right, and she had believed him. That last night they had been together, he had promised he would take care of her, but he hadn’t. He had treated her like dirt ever since.

“Here, take this, dear,” Madam Pomfrey said as she stepped back inside the room, bringing her back to reality.

“What is it?” she asked, when the witch handed her a small cup full of what she guessed was some kind of potion. It actually looked like mud.

“It is for the pain, dear,” she explained, and Hermione reluctantly drank it. “We are lucky to have such a gifted potions master within reach. Those wounds would have taken weeks to heal otherwise. His knowledge of Dark Arts… Not that I approve, of course, but the can be very useful, sometimes. They obviously were, in your case.”

“They were?” she asked, after swallowing the last

“Of course! The wounds wouldn’t have been so bad, otherwise. I don’t know exactly what it was, but there was some very dark magic involved,” she said, before taking the cup from Hermione’s hand. “Well, I think you are ready to leave, now. If you need something else for the pain, just tell me or Molly if I am not here, although I doubt it will be necessary,” she said. “He did a very good job indeed,” she repeated, in a low voice, as she walked back to the door.

“I can go?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“Yes, dear, unless you are feeling unwell, in any way.”

“No, I am fine,” she said, quickly getting off the bed. The pain was completely gone, she realized.

“You should thank him, I think. He never gets the credit he deserves,” the witch said, with a small smile. “I believe he is still here, in the meeting,” she added, before leaving, and Hermione wondered for a moment if maybe Madam Pomfrey had some kind of crush on Snape. She shook her head and laughed at the idea, even as an uneasy feeling of jealousy settled in the pit of her stomach.

It took her a few moments to change into clean clothes, and then she left the room. As she walked down the long hallway, she could hear voices coming all the way from the library. Whatever the meeting was about, it was a heated one.

The voices grew even louder as she approached them, and she decided she would wait to talk to Snape. But then she heard her name mentioned, and stopped by the door, surprised.

“That’s true, but Hermione said…”

“Well, I don’t care what she says,” Severus’ voice interrupted. “That moronic child just walks around, doing whatever she wants, and you all allow it. She has put her life in danger, and those of her friends, too, time and again. Lucius Malfoy could have easily killed her. She has been working with Death Eaters; it doesn’t matter whether she thinks they are good or not. She is also responsible for some of the information that was leaked to the Dark Lord, and if I hadn’t killed Bellatrix, Granger would now be chained to a wall somewhere, wishing she was dead. You have to do as I say.”

Without thinking, she suddenly threw the door open, marched to where he was standing, and without giving him time to react, she slapped him hard on the face.

“You bastard,” she hissed, and the room grew impossibly quiet. She was distantly aware of the fact that everyone was staring at her in shock, but she couldn’t care less.

His cold eyes narrowed, but he offered no other reaction as he watched the anger appearing in her eyes. He remained silent while she began her tirade.

“What gives you the right to talk about me in that way? After all you have done, you think you have a right to judge me?” she said, her voice low, her fists clenched as her body shook in anger. She could see the apprehension in his eyes, the surprise at her behaviour. Good. “How dare you accuse me of leaking information? You, of all people.”

“Miss Granger,” he said, in a calm voice. “I do not think this is the best place for this discussion.”

“That is because there is nothing to discuss. You are not worth it,” she said, coldly, before turning around and storming out of the room.

“Miss Granger,” she heard him call after her, and heard his footsteps as he followed behind, but she didn’t stop. “Hermione,” he said, in a lower voice, and she felt the anger instantly return full force.

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, as she turned around to face him. She could see movement behind him, and noticed some of the Order members were moving closer to the door, trying to hear them. “Don’t you dare call me that,” she continued with her voice lower. “After everything that you have done to me, you don’t have the right to call me anything, and especially not that.”

“Hermione, is everything all right?” she heard someone ask from behind him, and saw a few figures walk closer to them, but she was too focused on Snape to pay them any mind.

“How could you?” she asked. “After everything that…”

“Not. Here.” he interrupted in a hiss.

“Oh, what is it, Severus? Afraid they will find…” but she never got to finish the sentence. It all happened so fast, she couldn’t even react. In a matter of seconds, he drew his wand and, with a fast, complicated movement, he silently summoned a small statue from a nearby shelf, turned it into a Portkey, and transported them both away.

“What do you think you are doing?” she all but screamed as soon as her feet touched the ground again, yanking her arm free from his grasp.

“I warned you twice that was not the place for this discussion. You didn’t listen,” he said, coldly.

“So what, you decided to kidnap me?”

“You are free to leave any time you like, but if you want to continue this discussion, it will have to be here.”

“Oh, of course, I forgot you are the one that makes all the decisions. Do you want me to just sit quietly and follow your every command?”

“Well, that would be good, for a change,” he spat, his anger finally starting to show, but it no longer served to scare her.

“I don’t even know why I bother!” she said, lifting her arms in surrender. “You will do whatever you want, no matter what I say,” she almost yelled, and started walking to the door. “How could you do that to me?” she asked, her voice suddenly soft, turning back to face him after just a few steps.

“Do what?”

“You took my memories away,” she answered, sounding defeated. “If you simply wanted to push me away, there were other ways, you know?”

“I was trying to keep you alive,” he said, as he took a step closer to her.

“There were other ways.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t your decision to make. You didn’t give me any choice; you made the decision on your own, and never asked me.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

“It wasn’t up to you to decide,” she repeated.

“Everything would have been all right if you had stayed put after that.”

“Stay put?” she asked with anger back in her voice. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I had lost all memories of the last few months, and you expected me to stay put? I needed to find out what had happened. You should have known what my actions were going to be.”

“How was I supposed to know you would run away with the first Death Eater that crossed your path?” he asked, just as angrily.

“Maybe you should have expected me to act like a…what was it? Oh, yes, moronic child.”

“Well, maybe I should have,” he spat back menacingly, stepping closer still.

“I asked for your help, remember? You refused to even answer my questions. You asked Remus and Kingsley to lie to me, too. What was I supposed to do?”

“Go back to your life. That was the reason I did it in the first place, so you could have a life to go back to.”

“You just kept making all the decisions for me. I am not a child; I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, yes, I have seen that. How are your wounds healing, by the way?”

“You were in as much trouble as I was last night.”

“Only because I tried to help you.”

“And yet, you went alone, and got yourself disarmed, tortured, and bound within minutes. If Draco hadn’t shown up…”

“If Draco hadn’t shown up?” he interrupted. “You think he was there to help you? He was there to help himself, to help his family. You were just the means to an end.”

“So, is that what I was?” she asked, even angrier than before, because being angry was easier than being hurt.

“He doesn’t care about you. He was using you.”

“You weren’t? You only used me to get back in the Order, and when that was done, you simply erased my memories. That would make it all so much easier for you, wouldn’t it?”

“That is not what happened and you know it,” he said, barely a foot away from her now.

“You had no right,” she said angrily. “You made me believe you cared.”

Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers, silencing her protests, his fingers threading through her hair, keeping her close. Surprised, it took her a few moments to realize what was happening.

She raised her hands to his shoulders, pushing with all the strength she could muster, and he finally stepped back.

“What are you doing?” she asked angrily, willing her heart to slow down. He didn’t answer, he simply stared at her, as if he was as surprised about what he had done as she was. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?” she yelled, her fists finding his chest and hitting him as hard as she could.

His reaction was so fast she didn’t even see his hands move. It had probably been just his instinct kicking in. He easily wrapped his fingers around her wrists, and pushed her back, so that he had her hands pinned above her head, and her body held firmly against the wall by his own.

He didn’t kiss her this time; he just held her there, his face a few inches from her as they both breathed raggedly and stared into the other’s eyes.

“Haven’t you played enough with me?” she asked, her voice low, almost broken.

He looked taken aback by the question, and then something flashed in his eyes; maybe hurt, maybe guilt. She couldn’t be sure. His face slowly inched forward, his eyes still locked on hers, and then his lips touched hers again.

It started slow, almost tender, and she tried to push him away again, but he wouldn’t move. She parted her lips to protest, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue inside her mouth. No matter what had happened, it felt so good to be in his arms again. It only took a few moments for all conscious thought to leave her mind, and then she found herself returning the kiss.

No matter how slow it had started, it had already turned deep and heated. He let go of one of her arms, so he could bury his fingers in her hair, and then tilted her head to the side, trying to find a better angle.

She moved her hand behind his head too, trying to pull him even closer, and seeing she wouldn’t push him away again, he let go of her other arm too, his hand moving down her body, and then making its way up her thigh.

Moaning at the contact, she lifted that leg slightly, and felt him grind his hips against hers. The kiss was turning desperate, only broken for a second when the need for air became overwhelming.

She had missed his touch, his contact, so much. Even when she couldn’t remember, she had still missed it. No one had ever made her feel so good. One of his hands moved from her hair to her breast, as he touched it in a way that had her moaning within seconds. He still knew how to drive her crazy. The hand on her leg moved between them, and she heard the soft clinging of his belt, as he unbuckled it. It wasn’t an easy feat, when he was still moving his hips against hers, at the same time.

She distantly heard the sound of a zip, and then both his hands were on her thighs, lifting her and helping her wrap her legs around his hips. His hand moved back between them as he pulled her skirt up, and then fumbled with her knickers a bit, trying to push them to the side, before finally tearing them off in frustration.

He simply pushed himself inside of her; neither of them could wait any longer. His hand moved back to her breast as his lips nibbled on her neck. A million things should be in her mind, she knew, but at that moment, all she could think of was how good he felt inside her, how the little sounds he made as he thrust inside of her were like music to her ears.

She pushed her heels into his thighs, silently begging him to go faster, harder. He instantly complied. It was amazing, the easiness with which they found a rhythm to suit them both, how they moved almost in unison.

She felt her muscles start to tense from the pleasure he was giving her, but then he groaned and stiffened much too soon. His thrusts became almost frantic, and he claimed her mouth again as he reached his climax. It took him a few seconds to realize she still hadn’t. His hand found it’s way between them again, only this time his fingers stopped by her clit. His thumb rubbed on it, faster and harder every time, and when he pinched it, her world shattered.

She arched off the wall as she groaned in pleasure, her muscles contracting around him, her hands on his back, pulling him closer to her, her nails sinking into his shoulders.

Then it was all over, and they were both panting, looking at one another, not sure how it had happened, how it had gotten so out of control. He slipped out of her body and helped her stand, before taking a few steps back, his expression unreadable.

She took a moment to fix her clothes before meeting his eyes. Now that it was over, coherent thoughts plagued her mind, along with memories of their fight, and of all the bad things that had happened between them.

“This doesn’t change what you did. This doesn’t change anything,” she said, after a moment of silence. He simply looked at her, not saying a word, not moving a muscle, simply watching her with that same expression she had seen before. It looked more like guilt, this time.

She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say, all she knew is that she had to get away from there. And so, without another word, or another glance in his direction, she walked to the door, pulled it open and stepped outside, Apparating back to headquarters, to her friends, to the place where she felt safe, the place where she was alone amongst them all.