Saving your life

“I should go back to the Dark Lord’s headquarters; he will want to know what happened,” Severus said, as he finished dressing.

“But your arm isn’t fully healed yet; he will know you were cursed,” Hermione replied, buttoning up her jeans.

He looked at his hand for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought.

“Perhaps a glamour can hide that,” he finally said, waving his wand over his arm. The charm covered most of the blackness, but the hand still looked darker than the rest of his skin.”

“That won’t be enough; he will know,” she said, as she tried to come up with an excuse so she could get him to wait a little longer before going back to Voldemort. “I have wanted to ask something over the last few days, but didn’t find the right moment.”

“What?”

“My parents; I really would like to see them. I thought perhaps you could take me to them before you leave.”

“There is a reason why they are away, and a reason why you haven’t been to where they are. They are still a target, you know that.”

“I do, but how would my going there put them in danger? I hardly believe someone would follow me to get to them, and I’m only asking to see them once, not to go there every day.”

“If someone…”

“Please, Severus,” she interrupted. “Just this once.”

“Very well,” he replied after a few moments. “I will take you there before going to the Dark Lord, but you cannot stay there long. If you are willing to jeopardise their safety only so you can see them, then I won’t take any more risks for protecting them.”

“I won’t, I promise. I really appreciate all you have done for them.”

He took a moment to look at her, taking in her shirt, the sleeves burned away, and her jeans, missing from the knees down.

“Wait here,” he said, as he moved to the door. “I will get you some robes; you cannot go looking like that.”

She frowned for a moment, not sure what he was talking about, and then she followed his gaze. “Oh, right,” she muttered, waving her wand over her the shirt, trying to fix it, but there was not much to be done for the jeans.

Without another word he walked out of the lab, and after a moment she followed, walking down the hallway and into the library, her eyes scanning the shelves as she waited for him to return.

“I thought I’d told you to wait for me in the laboratory,” he said from the doorway, walking inside and handing her the robes.

“I like it better here,” she simply muttered as she put them on and waved her wand over them, adjusting them to the right size before buttoning them up.

“Shall we go, then?”

“Yes.”

With a small flick of his wand a book came soaring through the air toward them, landing neatly on Severus’ hand.

“Portus,” she heard him whisper as he moved his wand over the book, making it glow for a second before it went back to normal. “Let’s go then.”

She walked closer to him, adjusting the robes again as she moved, and then with one last look at him she touched the Portkey, the room around her spinning as they were transported away.

She kept her eyes closed until her feet touched solid ground again, and when she opened them she found herself standing a few feet away from a small, old looking house.

“Are they here?” she asked, when he stepped closer to the door, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he aimed his wand to the door and started muttering spell after spell lifting the wards so they could go inside.

“Hurry,” he said after a few moments, opening the door for her as his eyes searched their surroundings, trying to see if there was someone close by, watching. After only a few moments he followed her inside and closed the door behind him, quickly warding the house once more.

“Severus, is that you?” she heard her mother call from another room, and she instantly turned to him with a frown. Severus? Had she just called him by his name?

“Yes,” he replied, clearly avoiding her eyes as he walked towards the room where she guessed her mother was.

“I am making tea, would you like some?” her mother asked, her back to the door they had just stepped through.

“No, thank you. I will leave in a few moments.”

“We weren’t expecting y…” her mother started, turning around, but stopped when her eyes rested on her. “Hermione!” she all but yelled, quickly walking to her and hugging her as if she hadn’t seen her in months. “Where have you been? We were so worried about you. We hadn’t…”

“I’m all right, mum, really,” she said, gently pushing her mother away so she could breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you any sooner, but it wasn’t safe.”

“Hermione, is that you?” her father called, stepping into the kitchen and trapping her in another hug as soon as she had managed to free herself from her mother’s arms. “You had us so worried.”

“I know, dad, and I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t come here sooner,” she told him, repeating what she had said to her mother moments before.

“Dear Merlin, what is this racket?” another voice came from behind her, and she turned around, surprised to find a tall, skinny blond woman standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed and with an air of superiority around her she found strangely familiar. “Severus,” the woman said with a small nod in his direction.

“Narcissa,” he replied after a moment. “I hope you are adapting well to your new accommodation.”

“Hardly. You left me here with no wand and surrounded by Muggles. How am I to adapt to this kind of life?” she said, managing to sound upset and proper at the same time. “And who might this be?” she asked intrigued, as soon as her eyes rested on Hermione, standing next to Severus.

“This is our daughter, Hermione,” her mother replied, rather briskly.

“Hermione,” she repeated thoughtfully, and then she saw recognition shine in the woman’s eyes. “You are Potter’s Mudblood,” she said, disgust clear in her face. “We have met before, I believe. I have heard my son talk about you, a filthy little…”

“Narcissa,” Severus cut her in a cold, warning tone before Hermione could say anything. “That will be enough, unless you wish to find yourself in a worse situation than the one you are currently in. Miss Granger here is part of the reason why I am helping you, and why your son is still alive, so I would advise you to show better manners, if you know what is good for you.”

“I see,” Narcissa replied with a cold smile, her eyes searching her face before moving back to Severus. “Find myself in a worse situation, you say?” she asked disdainfully. “I am a hostage here, unable to see my husband or my son, not even knowing if they are still alive, and without any means to look after myself. I hardly believe I could find myself in a worse situation.”

“Maybe you would like to put that theory to test. If you think this is worse than what the Dark Lord would do to you and your family if he found you, then please, let me know. I will take you to him myself.”

“You think your threats will work on me? You surely know me better than that, my dear Severus. Don’t think you can fool me into believing you are helping my son out of the kindness of your heart; you have always done whatever was best for you and you alone,” she said, throwing Hermione a long look she wasn’t sure how to interpret. “You will keep me safe for now, because it is the only way Draco will agree to help you, and I am sure you have much to lose if something happened to me,” Narcissa continued in a low voice. “Still, you told me you would help my son, and I expect you to; otherwise, you will know a side of me very few have ever seen, and you know me well enough to know I am much more than a proper Pureblood housewife; keep that in mind,” she said threateningly, and without another word walked back out of the kitchen.

“That woman is Draco’s mother,” Hermione said after a few moments of silence. It wasn’t a question.

“Narcissa Malfoy, yes.”

“What is she doing here, with my parents?”

“You asked me to help Draco, and that is what I am doing; there is no need for me to explain my actions or for you to question me. She is here because she needed to be taken somewhere safe.”

“I wasn’t questioning you,” she said in a low voice, a small smile on her lips. “I was just thinking, if she is anything like her son, she is probably putting my parents through hell.” She turned back to her parents, both sitting at the table a few feet away, discreetly giving them some privacy.

“If your parents are anything like you, then I am sure they will survive,” he replied. “I should go now.”

“No, wait,” she said, before he could move. “You can’t go back to him yet, why don’t you stay here until you are completely healed? My mother makes the best tea in London, I assure you.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and then at his hand. She was right, the skin was already dark enough for anyone to notice, and she was sure Voldemort would take a close look.

“Please,” she said in a low voice, taking his darkened hand in hers.

“Very well, but I cannot stay here long,” he finally agreed, walking with her over to the table and sitting in the only chair left, between her and her mother, who instantly rose and retrieved two more cups from the cupboard, silently pouring them some tea before seating down again.

“How have you been?” she asked her parents, wanting to break the strange silence in the room. “We didn’t get to talk much the last time I saw you.”

“We are all right,” her mother replied, “but how about you dear? Are you feeling better? Perhaps you should stay here with us until it is safe to return home.”

“I can’t, mum, but you don’t need to worry, I am all right.”

“Do you…” her father hesitated, and turned to Severus. “Does she…?” he started again, tapping his forehead with a finger. It took her a few seconds to realize what he was asking.

“Yes, I remember now,” she said reassuringly, and her parents sighed in relief.

“You had us so worried, dear,” her mother told her in a low voice, still sounding concerned. “What happened?”

“It was nothing, really. Just a spell that backfired,” she lied with a small shrug.

“Those things can be dangerous, you have to be careful,” her father said. “Perhaps you should not use magic anymore, at least until you are feeling better.”

“I am fine, really,” she insisted, starting to feel exasperated although she knew her parents were just worried about her. They could be a little overprotective sometimes, but she couldn’t blame them. It was lucky they didn’t know much about her life in the Wizarding world, or they would probably lock her up if only to keep her safe.

“It was simply an unfortunate accident, but your daughter is a very capable witch, you needn’t worry about her,” Severus said, thankfully stopping her mother’s retort.

“It is a good thing you are there to take care of her, Severus,” her mother said, a grateful smile on her lips as she turned to him.

“Yes, Severus, we appreciate everything you have done for us,” her father added.

Her eyes darted between her mother and father for a few moments, surprised they seemed so comfortable around a man that usually scared at first sight. Her mother was a very social person, she knew, but still, calling him ‘Severus’ and talking to him as if they were friends…it was a little disconcerting to say the least.

“It is my job,” Severus simply replied, wrapping his hands around the cup of tea in front of him but not drinking. She could see he was not comfortable, so out of his element, and although a part of her felt sorry for him, for having forced him into that situation by insisting he stayed, another part was amused at his behaviour. It was nice seeing him like that, he looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him around others, and she couldn’t help the small smile that formed on her lips.

They remained in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room that of Severus’ fingers tapping the small cup still between his hands. He had beautiful hands, she noticed, not for the first time. His fingers were long and elegant, their every move graceful and precise. An image of those same fingers on her body suddenly crossed her mind, memories of the wicked things they could do, and when their eyes met a second later she quickly looked away, not wanting him to know what he was thinking, his quirked eyebrow telling her he already did.

“So, Hermione, we never asked how the two of you met,” her mother asked, breaking the silence again. She hated silence, always had; that was probably the reason why she talked so much.

“He…we met at Hogwarts,” she replied hesitantly.

“Really?” her mother asked, turning to Severus. “Are you a teacher?”

“I was,” he said. “Potions Master.”

“Potions?” her mother asked, thoughtfully. “Oh,” she gasped after a moment. “Her Potions professor! She talked so much about you.”

“Is that so?” he asked amused, turning to her, making her feel more nervous than she already did, and she quickly looked away. It sounded different when they said it that way. Yes, he had been her teacher, but she didn’t think of him that way anymore.

“Yes,” her mother answered. “But…I thought you didn’t like your Potions professor. The things you said…”

“Oh, really? Do tell,” Severus said, and she could feel him looking at her so she faced him, a serious expression on her face even as she felt her cheeks go red.

“Well, you were a right nasty piece of work back then, and you can’t deny it,” she said, hearing her mother gasp in surprise at her words. She saw the shadow of a smile cross his lips, but she wasn’t sure whether it was from what she had just said or from some witty reply he was holding back. Either way, she decided not to ask. “I did like the subject, though,” she said with a shrug before her mother could say anything that would embarrass her even more.

“Yes, she mentioned it a few times,” her father said, before quickly changing the subject. He could always sense when something made her uncomfortable. “Severus, we would like to know how much longer we have to stay here.”

“Not much longer, probably,” he replied, visibly relaxing now that the conversation had moved back to a subject he controlled. “As soon as I know for sure you are not a main target anymore, I will let you know.”

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate everything you have done for us,” her mother said. “We just miss our home.”

“I am sure you do, and I know having Narcissa here is not making things any easier.”

“It’s not that bad, really,” her mother said with a smile. “She has only left her bedroom three times since she arrived, and only speaks to either of us if it is strictly necessary.”

“That is probably for the best. She is not used to being surrounded by Muggles,” said Severus.

“Had you met her before, Hermione?”

“Yes. I’d seen her once I believe, a few years ago, in the Quidditch World Cup, but I know her son,” she said. “And her husband,” she muttered, in an afterthought.

“I assume by your expression they are as nice as our guest.”

“At times,” she replied, images of Lucius Malfoy playing in her mind, the memory of what he had done to her, how much he’d hurt her, the feeling of the cold steel of the knife he had stabbed her with. She didn’t want to think about that, but was unable to push the thoughts away.

“I believe it is time for me to leave.” Severus’ voice thankfully interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly turned to him. He looked at her with a concerned expression for a moment, before her mother spoke and he turned to her.

“Oh no, Severus, why don’t you stay for lunch?” her mother asked.

“I am sorry, but I have things I need to attend to; things that cannot wait,” he replied, getting up. “Thank you for the tea; goodbye,” he said politely but firmly, walking out of the kitchen without giving them time to insist.

“I’ll be right back,” Hermione murmured, quickly following him out. “Severus,” she called, watching him stop as he reached the door.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking closely at her, probably knowing what she had been thinking of only moments before.

“Yes,” she replied, although her voice sounded weak even to her own ears.

“I have to go.”

“No you don’t. You can stay here, or go to the Order; you don’t have to go back to him,” she said, stepping closer to him.

“That is not an option,” he told her, retrieving the book they had used to get there from his pocket and flicking his wand over it, setting the Portkey to take her back to the Order. “It is set to return you to the Order’s headquarters as soon as you activate it. You should not stay here long, it’s safer that way.”

“What will happen when you tell him the diadem’s gone?” she asked, ignoring the book he was holding out for her, and he finally set it on a small table by them before replying.

“He won’t be happy, but I will take care of it.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, in a low voice. “He has hurt you for much less. What will he do to you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” she said, and when her eyes locked on his she saw confusion there, mixed with something else, perhaps hope. She wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Why?”

“Why what?” she asked, confused.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I care about you, can’t you see?” she whispered, words she never thought she would say, looking into his eyes, trying to make him see the truth in them, trying to convince him to stay.

“There is a war raging on, and the Order needs the information I can provide. I have to go,” he said, gently pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“No, you don’t. Let someone else do it, we can find a way, there has to be another way,” she said, her voice soft, almost pleading.

“You know that is not possible; I have to go back. There are things more important than my well being.”

“Please, don’t go,” she insisted for the last time, an instead of replying he leaned closer, tilting his head down and kissing her softly.

After a moment he broke the kiss, taking a quick look around the room to make sure they were still alone before his eyes rested on hers again.

“The longer I wait, the worse it will be,” he said after a moment. “If I don’t return, make sure the last Horcrux is destroyed before Potter faces…”

“Don’t say that,” she interrupted, tears forming in her eyes as she pressed her finger to his lips, trying to stop the words she didn’t want to hear. “Please don’t say that.”

“I don’t know what will happen when I meet the Dark Lord again, and you have to be ready. If I don’t return,” he repeated, stopping her when she tried to interrupt again, “make sure the remaining Horcrux is destroyed. If you need access to the Dark Lord’s headquarters or information contact Draco; do not trust anyone else.”

“Draco? So you trust him? You will help him?”

“I told you I would,” he replied. “Be careful,” he said, leaning closer to her again for another kiss.

“Don’t go,” she whispered against his lips, knowing it wouldn’t make any difference.

“I have to.”

“Then promise me that you will be all right, tell me you’ll return.”

“I can’t do that,” he said, and she felt tears well in her eyes as she wondered if this would be the last time she saw him, the last time she would be able to touch him, kiss him, hear his voice.

“Please, don’t leave me,” she said, as he stood tall and took a step back, his hand holding hers between them.

“Take care of yourself,” he told her, and with one last long look at her, as if he wanted to commit the image to memory, he let go of her hand, turning around and opening the door, Apparating away the next second.

She stared at the spot he had vacated, her body seemingly glued to the floor, unable to believe what was happening, unwilling to even imagine the possibility of him not returning to her, of being told he was dead, killed while trying to help the Order end the war. He had already given up so much, sacrificed his health, his life so many times for them, and yet he had to do it again. Not only that; she knew that, if he managed to survive this time, he would find himself in the same situation soon after. The war had to end; Voldemort had to be killed soon. It couldn’t wait any longer, they had to do something; she had to do something. The defeat of the Dark Lord was the only thing that would grant Severus the freedom he so deserved, and she would see to it in any way that she could, no matter what it could cost her.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, staring into space, lost in thought, but apparently it had been long enough for her parents to come looking for her.

“Hermione, is everything all right?” her mother asked softly from behind her and she nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall and taking a deep, calming breath before turning around, a fake, unconcerned smile firmly set on her lips.

“Of course,” she said, taking a moment to close the door before walking back into the kitchen and sitting at the table.

“Are you sure, you are fine, dear? You look a little pale,” her mother said, pouring some more tea into her half filled cup. Sometimes she wondered if her mother really thought tea was the answer to every problem.

“The house looks nice,” she said instead, taking a moment to look around.

“It is, and the views are incredible.”

“I noticed,” she agreed, taking another sip. “I don’t imagine you go out much, though.”

“Oh, no. Severus asked us to remain inside the house at all times. He said leaving would be dangerous.”

“Severus,” she repeated in a low voice.

“He is a good man, but you already know that,” her mother said with a smile. “Although I must say, he is not a very social person. Of all the times he has been here, this is the first one he has stayed over for tea.”

“Even though your mother asked rather insistently quite a few times,” her father said in a serious tone although she knew he was teasing. He was a quiet man, and didn’t understand her mother’s need to socialize with everyone she met.

“He has come here often?” she asked, intrigued, cutting her mother’s retort.

“Maybe three, four times a week; mainly to make sure we are all right and ask if there is anything we need.”

“We had one of those little creatures when we got here…Home Elves I believe he called them,” her mother told her.

“House Elves.”

“Right, House Elves. But it only stayed here a few days. Having nothing to do made me nervous, and you know I like cleaning, it relaxes me, and so there was no need to have the poor thing working here, if I could do it myself.”

“Right,” she agreed, with a smile.

“So, since the Elf wasn’t here anymore, Severus started coming more often, to make sure we had everything we needed. Pity you couldn’t come with him.”

“Yes, I wish I could come more often,” she said truthfully.

“Well, you are here now, so why don’t you tell us what has been keeping you so busy?”

She remained in silence for a few moments, thinking. Her parents were bound to ask questions, she knew, and she wasn’t sure she could answer most of them, even if she wanted to. But the only other option was leaving, and although she felt she should go back to headquarters as soon as possible, to wait for news on Severus, she also knew that would mean Harry and Ron, and even more questions. She was tired of all the secrets, of all the lies, but she wasn’t ready to tell the truth yet.

“Not much to tell, really. Actually, I’m rather hungry, and I’ve missed your cooking more than you can imagine, mum.”

“You’re staying for lunch?” her mother asked excitedly, and she nodded. “Well, let’s get to it then, what would you like to eat?”

The hours went by so fast she was surprised when she glanced at the clock. She had managed to stray the conversation away from delicate subjects, and had enjoyed lunch with her parents immensely, but she knew it was time to go, even if she dreaded leaving. It took almost half an hour to say goodbye to her parents and assure them she would be back as soon as she could, but finally she took the Portkey Severus had created for her and activated it, appearing a few feet from the Order’s headquarters.

With a resigned sigh she opened the door and stepped inside.

All was calm in the house, and she guessed they hadn’t received any news from Severus; she wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.

She walked down the hallway, stopping by the kitchen first and then the library, not finding anyone in them. The sun was still high up in the sky, the early afternoon warm and clear, so she walked to the further door and opened it, a mixture of voices reaching her ears as soon as she stepped into the small garden in the back of the building.

“Hermione, dear,” Molly was the first to notice she was there. “Where have you been? You missed lunch, would you like me to make you something?”

“No thank you, I already ate.”

“Didn’t Severus come with you?” Kingsley asked from the chair beside Molly.

“No, he had things to do,” she replied, uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Hermione, you’re back,” Harry said from behind her, his tone serious as he walked towards her, Ron only a few steps behind. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Feeling better? Did something happen to you?”

“No, Molly, nothing happened. I am all right.” What was with all the questioning?

“Where’s Snape?” Harry asked, in the same tone, and she saw Molly frown, slightly surprised.

“He’s not here.”

“Why don’t we go inside for a moment?” he said next, turning around and walking back into the house without waiting for her to reply.

After hesitating for a moment she followed him, Ron close behind her, closing the door once they stepped inside.

“What’s going on?” she asked as they walked.

“Not here,” Ron said. “The rest of the Order should arrive any minute for a meeting, it would be best if we were not interrupted.”

She wanted to ask what was going on, why all the secrecy, but she already knew the answer to that, so she simply followed them up the stairs and into the bedroom they shared. She waited until she heard the door click closed behind her before speaking.

“What’s this about?”

“Well, what do you think?” Harry replied, his tone colder than before.

“If you want to talk then talk,” she said briskly, sitting on the closest bed. “Come on, what is it?” she insisted, when he hesitated.

“Snape.”

“What about him?”

“That’s what we want to know. What’s going on between you and Snape?”

“We worked together before I lost my memory, but you already know that.”

“I thought it was the ferret you had been working with,” said Ron.

“Both.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question; what is going on between you two?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“We’ve been friends for years, Hermione. During the last few months you have lied to us, constantly, and still we trust you. I think we are entitled to some answers.”

“Professor Snape has helped me on numerous occasions, and has saved my life more than once. He has been working with the Order for years, risking his life to give us information. I admire him, and try to help him with whatever I can.”

“I was there this morning; when you and Kingsley were trying to heal him, remember? I saw the way you acted with him.”

“We all did,” Ron added.

“The way I acted? He was dying, and I was just trying to save him.”

“Don’t treat me like an idiot, Hermione; we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we now?”

“Tell us what is going on.”

“All right,” she said with a sigh. She couldn’t tell them the truth, but she knew she had to say something, and there wasn’t much to choose from. “There is nothing going on between Professor Snape and me,” she repeated sternly, but stopped them when they tried to interrupt. “I wish you would just believe me on this, but I see you won’t. During the time I spent with Professor Snape my…feelings towards him might have changed slightly,” she said, blushing slightly.

“What?” both Ron and Harry asked in unison.

“Well,” she said, nervously; she couldn’t believe she was discussing this with them. “I have always admired him, he is an intelligent and powerful wizard, but having spent more time around him I…”

“You like him?” Ron asked, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

“No, I… I don’t know what it is,” she sighed, inwardly glad they were not questioning the truth in her words, only her sanity. “It’s nothing, really, just, I don’t know, misplaced feelings of some sort. I hadn’t even realized myself until this morning.”

“You cannot be serious. Snape?”

“Well, I am, Harry. I don’t see why you are so shocked.”

“It’s Snape, Hermione,” said Ron, as if he were explaining a child that the sky was blue. “Snape, the bat of the dungeons; the git that has made our lives a living hell ever since we met him.”

“I know who he is, Ronald,” she said briskly. “He is not that bad, you know?”

“Not that bad? I think all the spells and potions have messed up your brain.

“There’s no need for all of this,” she said, standing. “It’s silly really, and I’m sure it won’t last long. But you cannot tell him, please,” she said urgently. “If he knew, he would use it to torture me for years.”

“He probably wouldn’t believe it if we told him,” Harry said, still looking at her as if she were crazy. “But he was acting strange around you.”

“He was?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“The way he acted, when you were hurt.”

“Well, I was almost burned alive,” she said, throwing Ron a meaningful look, and saw him gulp and look away. “He was just trying to help me. He probably knew healing me would cause him less trouble than explaining the Order what had happened.”

“About that,” Ron said, apparently willing to drop the main subject. She hoped her explanation would keep them quiet, at least for the time being. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I never meant…”

“I know, Ron,” she interrupted. “But you knew it was a dangerous curse, and …” She suddenly stiffened, her eyes darting to the door for a second.

“Hermione?”

“Did you hear that?” she asked in a whisper, all senses alert as she walked to the door and threw it open.

“Arthur, Kingsley, somebody come here!” she heard Molly scream from down the stairs. “Please, someone call a Healer!”

Feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest she started running down the hallway towards the stairs, only one thought in her mind. Severus.