A/N – Apologies for the length of time between updates!

CHAPTER 9

"Hermione, what can I do for you? Ice mouse?" McGonagall opened her office door to Hermione's knock. She proffered a confectionary box and Hermione caught one of the scurrying sweets.

"Thanks, Professor. Have you got a moment?"

"Of course, come in." McGonagall stepped aside and admitted her entry. "What's on your mind?"

"I was wondering…you know Hogwarts' library doesn't contain any books with references to Horcruxes…?"

"Indeed, Professor Dumbledore removed them all when he became Headmaster."

"Yes, I know, but I was wondering if that meant there aren't still some of those reference books in the school, just not in the library?"

McGonagall's expression was carefully controlled. "If I were speaking to anyone else, I would be telling them that such Dark material is entirely inappropriate to be kept in a school and they'd be better off never reading literature of that variety. Since it is you, however, I think you've earned a little more frankness."

"So there are books here?"

"Only one. Professor Dumbledore keeps it warded in his office. However, its presence is irrelevant, Hermione; the Headmaster will not allow any student to read that book, not even you."

"Have you read it, Professor?"

A pause. "Yes, I have. And I do not ever wish to do so again."

"I don't imagine it's the sort of book to be read for pleasure. I don't even know how much useful information it would contain."

"So why do you want to read it?"

It was Hermione's turn to pause. "Because I still don't understand Horcruxes, Professor. I can't get my head around the entire concept."

"That is because you don't have that sort of darkness within you, my dear."

"But maybe I need to. Just a bit. If we're going to have any chance of finding the remaining Horcruxes."

McGonagall's eyes were piercing, as if they could see straight into her soul. "I took some notes when I read Secrets of the Darkest Art. I thought if I could put the contents into my own words, I may find it more bearable should I need to review it again. Which I sincerely hope I will not. The Headmaster will not lend you that book, Hermione, but I will lend you my notes. They do not make for light or pleasant reading but I don't think they're as deeply disturbing as the actual book." McGonagall actually shuddered. "I didn't sleep for two days after I read that cursed thing."

"Thank you, Professor, that's very kind of you."

"You may not think so later. I don't keep it here or in my quarters." An expression of discomfiture crossed McGonagall's face. "As ridiculous as it sounds, and I know it sounds absolutely barmy, but it felt like it brought evil with it. I could practically feel it. I didn't want even the suggestion of such darkness in a place where I spend a great deal of time."

"I don't think that sounds barmy, Professor."

"Anyway, I keep the notebook in my staff room locker. It's warded so it appears to be notes on cross-species switching if read by anyone except me.

"I can get it another day, if that's more convenient?"

"And not sleep a wink until then for thinking about it?" McGonagall cast her a knowing look.

"Am I that obvious?"

"I know you too well, my dear. And while you may not sleep well even after reading it, at least any resulting insomnia will presumably be more profitable. Go down to the staffroom and retrieve the notebook, there'll be no one there at this time. To remove the ward, tap the notebook's spine three times with your wand and say 'lux omnia vincit'."

"Ok, Professor."

"The staffroom password is Jelly Beans." McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Fortunately the Headmaster cannot choose the House passwords, or Merlin knows what we'd end up with. You'll forgive me if I don't accompany you? I'm waiting for Professor Burbage to pay me a visit."

"No problem. I'll give your notebook back tomorrow, if that's ok?"

"Take my advice, Hermione, don't read it in an isolated place. Read it in daylight, when there are other people around and you are surrounded by reminders of the world you inhabit. It has the most awful ability to make you feel that all the Light is gone."

"Yes, Professor. It's stopped snowing; I'll take it down by the Lake and read it there."

"That's one of my favourite spots as well. I love seeing the beauty of the mountains reflected in the water." McGonagall offered the ice mouse box again. "Take another mouse for the journey."

Teeth squeaking as she munched, Hermione strode off purposefully towards the staffroom. Safely on the ground floor, she approached the two gargoyles, who glared suspiciously at her.

"Jelly Beans."

"Standards must be slipping if they're letting students inside the staffroom now," one gargoyle said to his mate.

"Try not to steal anything," the other one smirked.

Hermione huffed at them in exasperation but finally they permitted her entry. The long, wood-panelled room smelt of coffee and Ginger Newts and another scent that she recognised immediately but couldn't place. A masculine smell, of herbs and wood smoke and something familiar but unidentifiable.

When she finally noticed the figure sprawled on the sofa, initially hidden from view, her first thought was shock that Severus Snape's personal scent was familiar enough to her to recognise. That wasn't an entirely comfortable realisation.

At first, she suspected he just had his eyes closed but a quick glance at his face told her the Potions master was actually deeply asleep. She had never seen him look so unguarded; his features were smooth in sleep in a way they never were when he was awake. Not even Snape, it seemed, could remain tense when asleep. An errant lock of black hair had fallen across one closed eye and Hermione was shocked by her instinctive urge to brush it back. She jammed her hands quickly into her jeans pockets.

She had no idea why he would be sleeping here, why he wasn't in his own rooms, but she had no intention of finding out. Eager to escape without waking Snape, she silently crossed the room to the four tall lockers, each bearing the emblem of a different animal. The locker emblazoned with the golden lion opened at her touch; she imagined it would only do so to a Gryffindor.

"Accio Minerva's notebook," Hermione whispered, not comfortable to start rifling through her Head of House's belongings. The burgundy notebook sprang instantly into her hand.

Tucking the notebook safely under her arm, she turned to tiptoe back to the door and escape before Snape awoke. No doubt he was the world's lightest sleeper and she would rather disturb a starving tiger than wake a slumbering Snape.

The strangled sound that escaped from the Potions master's throat made her jump several feet off the ground in shock. Something halfway between a groan and a suppressed cry, it was a sound she had never expected to hear coming from Severus Snape.

Standing very still, she waited to see if he was waking, calculating if she could make it out the room before he opened his eyes. When his body began to shake, she realised he was far from consciousness. The shaking progressed to deep shudders, the strangled sounds coming more frequently. Then, without warning, his back arched and tremors wracked the professor's body.

Hermione stood frozen for a long moment, not knowing what to do, various suggestions flying through her brain. Finally, she forced herself to move and made a run from the staffroom. Her feet automatically took her towards the hospital wing to summon Madam Pomfrey but she realised McGonagall's office was much closer and she hurriedly changed direction, sprinting to the first floor and bursting through the door without so much as a knock.

"Professor, come quickly! Professor Snape…in the staffroom…I think he's having some sort of seizure."

McGonagall's tea spilt all over her desk as she slammed her cup down and leapt up. She didn't waste time asking questions; her strides were so rapid Hermione had to jog to keep up as they swept back to the staffroom.

"Sev?" McGonagall whispered as she crouched beside Snape's convulsing form. "Sev, can you hear me?"

"Is this the Cruciatus, Professor?" Hermione whispered, hating the feeling of helplessness as she stood by and watched.

"Not that I know of. I've never seen this sort of reaction to it before."

"Shall I go and get Madam Pomfrey?"

"Wait a moment." McGonagall drew her wand, gently touching it to Snape's forehead. "Reparifors."

A purple-white strand emerged from the end of her wand and seemed to go straight through Snape's head. A split second later, his body jerked sharply once and his eyes shot open.

"What the fuck?" His voice sounded raw and strained and he made no attempt to move, although his eyes were darting quickly around the room. They came to rest on Hermione and she quickly averted her gaze.

"You were in convulsions," McGonagall said sternly. "Miss Granger found you and came to get me."

"Fuck." Snape shoved a shaking hand up to push his hair out of his eyes. His skin was almost grey, beads of sweat clinging to his face.

"I didn't even know you'd been Summoned today," McGonagall said.

"I wasn't. Last night."

"Merlin, that's over twelve hours."

Snape slumped back down against the sofa cushions, squeezing his eyes shut, refusing her a response.

"Shall I get Poppy?"

"No." His reply was barely audible.

"I think she should come down…"

"I said no, Erva!"

McGonagall sighed but didn't push the issue further. Hermione cleared her throat, hoping they hadn't forgotten she was there.

"Why won't he go to Madam Pomfrey?" she asked her Head of House in almost a whisper.

Clearly she hadn't been quiet enough, for Snape gave a heavy sigh. "For a reason you will not understand, Granger. I wager you've never disappointed anyone in your life. Therefore you will not know the need to avoid letting someone you respect see the worse of you."

"What do you mean?" Even McGonagall sounded confused.

There was an odd edge to Snape's voice as he replied, "It doesn't matter."

"What doesn't?"

"Not now, Erva."

"Sev, for Merlin's sake…"

"Charity is dead!" Snape almost screamed.

Hermione gasped in horror, watching the colour drain from McGonagall's face. The Head of Gryffindor wavered unsteadily on her feet for a moment, reaching to grab the back of the nearest chair.

"Dead?" she managed to whisper.

Snape closed his eyes again, hissed out a long breath. "She was captured. It was too late; I could do nothing."

"Merlin save us…" McGonagall whispered. "Was it because she was your friend?"

"The Dark Lord doesn't make a habit of abducting every friend I have. Her subject got her killed, not the fact she shared a few whiskies with me of a weekend." His voice sounded as if his throat was unbearably tight. "I did what I could for her but it wasn't enough.

"You saw her die?" Hermione gasped in horror as she realised she had let the words out. Snape's eyes shot open, his gaze fixing on hers. In the split second before his expressionless mask slid into place, she saw anguish burning in his black eyes.

"Get out, Granger," he snarled.

"Leave her, Sev!" McGonagall snapped, almost physically shaking herself. "She's already heard everything; you can't just order her away as if she's ignorant of the situation."

Hermione shifted from foot to foot, deeply uncomfortable. McGonagall had snatched off her hat and was now crumpling it agitatedly and apparently without noticing, her eyes never leaving Snape.

"Does Albus know?"

"Of course he does," Snape sighed. "Go and discuss it with him, Erva. He can't offer you much information but you'll get more sense out of him than you will from me at the moment. Just leave me, for God's sake."

McGonagall continued staring at him for another long moment, then pulled back her shoulders, clearing her throat. A look of deep understanding passed between the Head of Gryffindor and the Potions Master. "Come, Hermione."

Hermione obediently followed her Head of House from the room, resisting the temptation to look back at Snape, just glad to be escaping from the horrible atmosphere of grief that had suddenly filled the staffroom.

"I always enjoyed Professor Burbage's classes," she mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

McGonagall's thin hand briefly gripped her shoulder, though it was clear there was no time to provide comfort. "That was a terrible thing for you to hear."

"It was a terrible thing to happen to a nice person."

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I must go to the Headmaster's office. I think it best you return to Gryffindor Tower."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione replied woodenly.

"And, Hermione, forgive me asking this of you, but you mustn't tell anyone else yet. Not until Professor Dumbledore has decided what to do."

"I understand, Professor."

McGonagall swept off absently towards the Headmaster's study, muttering inaudibly under her breath. Hermione just stood, vaguely aware of her own shock, a runaway train of thoughts rushing through her mind.

She was still in the same spot, unable to focus her thoughts to decide where to go, when the staffroom door open and Snape stumbled out. He had to grab the wall to stay upright; he didn't seem able to support his own bodyweight.

"Sir?" she asked timidly. He didn't seem to have even noticed her presence. "Professor?"

"What, Granger?"

Encouraged by the unexpected lack of venom in his voice, she took a step towards him, and realised she didn't have a clue what to say next.

"Just leave me alone." His voice was barely audible.

"I can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"One, because I think you'd be mortified if another student found you collapsed in the middle of the corridor. And secondly, because no one deserves to suffer alone."

He turned his head, finally looking at her, and she had never seen someone look so trapped. It was like he was physically caught, too exhausted to struggle for his freedom any longer, and so he was waiting for his end to finally come. For someone or something to finish him off.

Summoning every bit of the Gryffindor courage, she took his arm, felt the tremors running through his muscles and stepped closer to him. At this proximity, he wasn't as thin as he looked under his usual clothes. He was very lean, clearly underweight, but the arm she held was toned with slim muscle and she could sense the coiled strength within him.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked when he didn't pull away.

When he looked at her again, there was utter defeat in his expression, but it couldn't disguise that haunted gleam in the depths of his eyes in which she could almost see the reflection of Professor Burbage's body. The scars were almost visible in his mind.

"Dungeons," he mumbled.

Maybe she was an undiscovered Occlumency genius, she thought, unable to help marvelling at her sudden insight into the fearsome Potions master. Or maybe, she acknowledged ruefully, he was just in no state to keep his defences up around someone who was no threat to him.

She expected him to order her away once they reached his rooms but he didn't even seem to notice her follow him inside.

"You should go to bed," she said softly, watching him all but collapse onto the sofa.

He ignored her completely, laying one forearm across his face, visibly struggling to control his breathing. Without warning, his jaw clenched and his eyes squeezed closed. There was a quiet gasp from him as convulsions wracked his body again. Without thinking, Hermione reached and took his hand. His eyes shot open, pure shock reflected in the darkness, and he tried to pull his hand free even as he continued to convulse. She held on, determined, and squeezed his fingers, trying to reassure him.

Dragging her wand free, she touched it to his forehead, hoping she had remembered McGonagall's spell correctly.

"Reparifors," she whispered apprehensively. The purple-white light shone out and even though this time Snape was conscious, the tremors ceased almost immediately.

He looked up at her once more before his eyes closed and his body went slack.

X X X

When Snape woke, he realised immediately he was not alone. He almost yelled in shock when he opened his eyes to find Hermione Granger watching him with an expression of deep compassion.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly. There was no hint of fear from her, no apprehension that she was crossing a clearly-defined line in daring to approach him.

"Why do you care?"

She was too much of a Gryffindor to hide her confusion, as she came to realisation she didn't know how to reply.

"You look in pain," she said eventually.

"Nothing too bad." The electric-shock-like impulses seemed to have burnt out, leaving a deep, awful ache in his joints and spine. "I expected being almost crushed to a powder by a giant snake would actually hurt more than it does."

"A snake? Nagini?"

"Obviously. And before you ask, no, it wasn't a factor in what happened to Charity Burbage."

"What did it do to you?" Hermione almost whispered.

"I don't know." Even talking was becoming an effort and he really didn't want to converse with the Princess of Gryffindor about such an issue. "Thankfully I was unconscious for most of it."

"Could you not have ordered the snake to stop?"

He could have managed to look amused at her innocent question but his features were still immobilised with the strain of seeing a friend killed.

"We're not all Parselmouths, you know. Potter and the Dark Lord are the only speakers I have ever met. Most Slytherins would go in the exact opposite direction to a snake."

"Oh." Embarrassment coloured her face. "Sorry."

Bracing his arms, Snap shoved himself into a sitting position. His entire body screamed at him for such a forced movement but he managed to keep his expression neutral.

"It's time you returned to Gryffindor Tower, Miss Granger."

"Will you be all right on your own?"

"Why the hell shouldn't I be?" he snapped, his patience reaching its limits.

"As you just pointed out, you were almost crushed to death by a giant snake after seeing your friend die in front of you," she returned with a tone that was almost biting. Strangely reminiscent of her Head of House, actually.

"I've survived much worse. Now leave me be, will you?"

She studied him for a long moment, as if he were a fascinating passage in a textbook. Just when he thought she was going to ignore or refuse him, she shrugged and got to her feet.

"I hope you feel better, sir."

"I'm fine."

At the door, she paused. "I'm sure Professor Burbage would have been glad you tried to help her. At least she had a friend with her at the end." The last sentence was said in barely more than a whisper, as if her nerve had failed her.

As she shut the door behind her, he realised his eyes were stinging because they had filled with tears.