AN: I own nothing :)

Madam Pomfrey's Ward was filled to capacity. Those that could not endure the journey to St. Mungo's, or suffered minimal damage, found themselves under her care. She scanned the room overflowing with students she had come to love and care for over the years, professors she respected and considered family, and notable members of the Order. As always, she would do her best to care for them all. She checked the clock.

The battle had been fierce and gruesome. Although victorious, she wondered if their side could manage the emotional and psychological damage wrought by their struggle for freedom from the Dark Lord and his cronies.

She saw a rustling from one of the beds from the corner of her eye.

"I believe I am… I am well enough to assist. I believe… I can…" a quiet voice pleaded from under snug blankets.

She moved over to the cot, gingerly spot checking the other patients as she passed to administer more Blood-Replenishing potion to the ailing, disembodied voice. She checked the clock.

"Severus. You are an intelligent man. Intelligent enough, I would think, to know that you are in no position to believe anything other than that your place is resting and recovering in the very spot you are lying in." She saw his eyes flash with disdain as he attempted to form his thin lips into the sneer he was so well known for. For once, it was saddening to see that he couldn't even muster the energy to do that.

"Why bother? Why bother with this when we both know that I… I will be gone from this world sooner than not?" Snape rasped in a hard icy voice.

Madam Pomfrey merely looked down at the man who very recently used to tower over most. "Once again I will remind you of this intelligence you are rumored to possess." She unstopped the vial and motioned for him to drink. "You know there is an antidote to Nagini's venom, and that you yourself have the recipe carefully stored in your dismal dungeon." She checked the clock.

"Since you have so… so enjoyed pointing out my weaknesses," he said with a pathetic sneer, "you are more than aware that I am… clearly in no position to brew such a thing. Not to mention, that… that finding said ingredients is also… obviously beyond my… beyond… my capacities at present." He drawled. That, he found, he could still do effectively.

It was closer yet to midnight. If this mission were to be successful, the results would be known within minutes. She removed the vial from his cold lips and proceeded to check his ever bleeding wound. The potion, administered every hour, had been effective when he was first brought to her. Over the weeks though, she found that she had to give him higher doses to achieve lesser results. This magic was no match for He-Who-Will-Never-Be-Named-Again's snake. The stores were running disturbingly thin, and although Hermione was helping, she had little time to replenish them given the immense task she was attempting to perform.

"You should know by now that you are not the only wizard who-" The clock struck midnight with an almost audible chime. She was abruptly cut off by the double doors being flung open. Many guests of the ward stirred at the sudden noise and movement and Madam Pomfrey could not help but be thoroughly irritated by the boy who lived as he bound into the room trailed by a very tired looking Hermione.

She stepped tentatively toward the cot where Snape lay. "Is he awake?" She managed to whisper. Sleep had not been something she had the occasion to come by in the weeks following the war. Her usually bright big eyes were bloodshot and framed by dark circles. Harry's appearance was not much better by comparison. Over the last few weeks, he and Ron had traveled the Wizarding world in search of roots, insects, spices and other powerful ingredients.

"Ten points from… from Gryffindor for speaking of me as… as though I am not present." Snape attempted to rise from his prison of a cot and was promptly stopped in mid movement by a glare from Madame Pomfrey. "Give it here dear," she said sweetly to Hermione.

The young witch offered a vial filled with a thick green liquid. She had never balked at a challenge, but this had been the most difficult potions assignment she had yet to undertake. Doubly, she had never been so nervous about the results her hard work would garner.

"Drink this Severus." The graying healer offered the vial to the potions master. He simply raised an eyebrow as his refusal.

"And how am I to know this is not poison, or worse, Miss Granger's attempt at a salve?" Snape had found few comforts since being remanded to the hospital wing. Seeing Hermione's already miserable face fall was an unexpected delight. That look quickly changed from despair to pure rage.

"I have not… Harry and Ron… after everything! We've done nothing but try to save you! For the last few… Just drink it!" Hermione huffed exasperatedly. All of the aggression, stress, and worry she had felt came flooding out of her unbidden. Harry could not help but chuckle.

Madame Pomfrey took advantage of Snape's gaping mouth and released the contents of the vial into it. The three of them stared hopefully at the Half-Blood-Prince as he quiet nearly choked on the antidote to his fatal wound.

"Has it worked?" Harry questioned, his fingers running worriedly through his dark tresses, when Snape's exaggerated coughing had subsided and it was quiet enough to be heard. Hermione, looking even more exhausted and slightly sheepish after her outburst, shifted from foot to foot in anticipation. She knew that the results should be nearly instantaneous if the antidote had been administered promptly, but given the weeks that it had taken to retrieve the ingredients and brew the potion, his recovery time, if it happened at all, was anyone's guess.

"I will need to examine his wounds over the next few days to be sure, but knowing the amount of effort you three have put into this antidote, I have no doubts of its proficiency. There is nothing else we can do at present." She gave them a reassuring smile, and began to move towards the next patient. Luna Lovegood had been awakened by Snape's rude coughing and was in need of another sleeping drought.

Harry and Hermione continued to stand by Snape's bedside. Neither knew what to do with themselves now that the potion had been delivered. Much was changing in the wake of the Second Wizarding War, and brewing the antidote gave them a reason to subtract themselves from the political and social quandaries that were quickly threatening to cause the Third.

"If you two insufferable children are… are quite finished playing healer, kindly… remove yourselves at once." Snape barely opened his eyes as he spoke, but was aware of their retreating steps. He would sleep. He would not allow himself to consider the fact that those three had done something worthy of his gratitude.

Madame Pomfrey scanned her ward after returning to her desk. They may have all suffered physical and emotional damage, but if they could remember that they fought to put an end to both, maybe this new era really would be much brighter than the last.