Saving Severus

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"I think I have an answer. Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

From her hiding place next to Harry and Ron, Hermione could vaguely see Severus Snape staring up at Voldemort's snake, Nagini, with slight apprehension. Perhaps he sensed danger, and his master's words surely did nothing to calm these worries. Although his voice was just a mere whisper, Voldemort's words were perfectly clear. A feeling of overwhelming terror engulfed Hermione with every word he spoke.

In front of her, Harry was silently crouching under his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione was leaning on what felt like his shoulder for balance— this space was severely cramped but she was too focused on the conversation between Voldemort and Snape to really fidget much. Besides, one noise from their hiding place, and they were done for. It was best to remain as they were.

"My Lord—"

What is Voldemort getting at? She so desperately wanted to ask her friends, not that it would have mattered, since they would have as much of an idea as she did. If Snape was truly Voldemort's right hand man, then what did he have to fear from the master whom he was most loyal to?

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore—" Hermione felt Harry tense up as Voldemort mentioned Dumbledore, "—while you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."

Hermione's heart pounded fiercely against her chest. The ominous words Voldemort uttered were like a death sentence upon the man. Behind her, she could hear Ron's breathing quicken, and Harry was tenser than ever under his cloak, waiting to see what would become of Snape.

"My Lord!" Snape raised his wand, as though he was actually thinking of trying to fight off Lord Voldemort singlehandedly.

"It cannot be any other way," Voldemort said softly, his scarlet eyes glancing over the wand in his hands with disturbing fascination. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

Hermione felt an overwhelming desire to scream as Voldemort swiped the air; however, she managed to muffle it before she revealed their hiding place. No flash of green light came, strangely enough. Hermione unwillingly opened her eyes and saw that Voldemort wasn't quite finished yet: the snake's cage launched itself at Snape, and Voldemort spoke…

"Hiss."

Unlike Harry, Hermione did not understand Parseltongue. Not that she needed to, because Nagini's instructions were soon clear to all of them.

Please don't kill him…don't kill him, Hermione silently pleaded the snake, incapable of watching as Snape's scream echoed along the walls of the Shrieking Shack.

He can't die…he'll be fine…he can't die, he just can't…

Hermione knew all too well how it felt to die, for she had come face to face with Death just two years ago, in the Department of Mysteries. And if it weren't for Snape, it would have only been Ron and Harry sitting in this cramped tunnel right now. Hermione owed her life to him, though judging by what she had just seen and heard she wouldn't be given the chance to pay him back in this lifetime…

xXxXxXxXx

"Where are you going Severus?"

Snape turned around just before he reached the exit of Dumbledore's office and stared at the headmaster.

"I intend to search the forest for the boy…he has been known for getting himself lost in there before—"

"—I think it would be better for you to come with me," Dumbledore replied gravely, pointing his wand at an old quill and muttering "Portus" under his breath. It glowed for a moment before returning to its normal state. With Voldemort and his followers running loose in the Ministry, he knew something as trivial as an unauthorized Portkey would hardly be of notice to the Minister.

"With you?" Snape repeated, seeing more negative consequences to this suggestion than positive ones, though he didn't mention these to Dumbledore, who seemed quite certain about what he was asking of him.

"I daresay the Order is outnumbered as it is, and we must ensure the safety of the children."

"But…the Dark Lord—"

"— will undoubtedly have other distractions to worry about. Perhaps you might have guessed why Voldemort tricked Harry into going to the Department of Mysteries tonight?"

"You mean…the prophecy?"

Dumbledore nodded, looking graver than ever. "Voldemort does not wish to reveal himself to the public while everyone is still in denial of his return. Retrieving the prophecy himself could lead to dire consequences for him if he is seen. I have feared that Voldemort would instead use Harry to get to it ever since you informed me of what you had seen Harry envisioning during your final Occlumency lesson."

Snape breathed a tiny sigh of relief, thankful that Dumbledore's words had no trace of accusation laced within them.

"I cannot say I am glad to find my predictions accurate," Dumbledore admitted sadly. "I am anxious to see what has and will happen tonight."

"Dumbledore," Snape began slowly, rubbing his left forearm, which had suddenly begun to burn rather painfully. "The Death Eaters…"

"I advise you to cast a Disillusionment Charm as a precaution, however…it would be best to, ah…act accordingly if your situation calls for it."

Snape immediately knew what Dumbledore meant and nodded slowly before casting a Disillusionment Charm over his head. It felt as though melted ice was running down his entire body, and within seconds, Severus Snape disappeared.

"Are you touching it?" Dumbledore inquired, holding up the quill. Snape verbally confirmed and after five more seconds of waiting, they were flung out of Dumbledore's office and into the chaotic transportation path between Earth and the infinite limbo beyond.

--

--

When they landed, Snape felt himself quite disoriented, though partly due to the fact that he couldn't even see where his feet were. To his right, he saw Dumbledore staring straight at him…how did he do that?

There was a boy groaning somewhere off to the left. Before Snape spotted the source of the noise, his eyes landed on a giant tank in the middle of the room. It was filled to the brim with mysterious green liquid and small dark figures were swimming around within…were they brains?

The boy grunted angrily again, and Snape soon found himself looking down at Ron Weasley. A brain was wrapped tightly around the panicked boy's abdomen and a stray tentacle was slowly winding its way up to his neck. If Dumbledore didn't do anything, Weasley would be strangled to death.

Dumbledore was no longer here, however. In fact, he wasn't even in the room. Snape looked everywhere, but it seemed as though the old man had left him to tend to the injured kids while he darted off to find Potter and that blasted prophecy before the Dark Lord did.

Seeing no other volunteers to do the job, he wordlessly slashed the air with his wand. At once, the brain released Weasley and flew back to the tank where it belonged. Exhausted from fighting against the brain for so long, Ron instantly fell backwards, unconscious.

He'll live, Snape thought unconcernedly as he decided against reviving the boy. The sound of bodies slamming into the ground and exploding curses from the room beyond caught his attention; what if something went wrong? These children would survive, he knew, from the looks of Lovegood and the two Weasleys lying on the ground. The Weasley girl was already awakening from her state of unconsciousness.

All that leaves is Potter, Longbottom, and Granger. Surely Longbottom is around here somewhere…perhaps he's dead, Bellatrix would have enjoyed that, Snape thought grimly as he searched around for more bodies.

Potter was obviously not in here— the Death Eaters wouldn't just leave him lying there if he had been injured— and it appeared that Longbottom wasn't, either. Granger, however, was lying motionless in the far right corner, behind the vast brain enclosure.

In the distance, there was a sudden and inexplicable ceasefire. Everything fell silent; as though Time itself had stopped.

After that brief period of silence, the place dissolved into bedlam once more. Somewhere within the room beyond the one he was currently in, Snape heard a man— or was it a boy?— screaming words he could not comprehend at the moment.

Out of nowhere, Bellatrix burst through the door, looking wilder than ever. Snape was so startled by her sudden appearance that he nearly tripped over Granger's unmoving body, temporarily forgetting about the Disillusionment Charm he had placed over himself earlier.

Right after Bellatrix entered, Harry Potter sprinted into the room, holding out his wand and wearing a strangely murderous expression that Snape had never seen on the boy's face before. Then, just as quickly as they came, Potter chased Bellatrix through the second door and the room fell silent once more.

Snape had been so utterly stunned to see the two that he hadn't done anything to prevent Bellatrix's escape. Not that he could have, anyways; not without blowing his cover first.

Still, he darted towards the door in which they escaped through; neither Bellatrix nor Potter were anywhere in sight. There were numerous doors in this new room, and there was little chance of Snape choosing the correct door on the first try. Alas, he decided it would be best if went back to ensure that Granger wasn't as dead as she looked…

"Rennervate," he muttered, pointing his wand towards Granger's limp body. She didn't move. At once, Snape knew there was something wrong: the healing spell should have woken her up immediately. He waited. He had felt a pulse a moment earlier, but it had been alarmingly slow.

His breathing quickened as the girl feebly lift up her head. So she was alive after all. But her suffering was far from over: even the minimal effort of moving her head seemed to weaken her significantly.

"Ron?" she croaked, her voice barely audible even in the stony silence around them. "Luna? Ginny?"

Her voice grew softer with each name she uttered. Her breaths were short and it sounded as though each one pained her greatly. Whatever she had been hit with, it had been a terrible curse. Possibly even a deadly curse.

Snape stared at the girl as she tried with everything she had to get to her knees. She failed, but improvised and sluggishly attempted crawling towards her other incapacitated friends, using only her arms. Her upper body swayed dangerously from the tremendous effort, but she valiantly kept trying to reach the other three. Only when her vision blurred so badly that she felt as though she was going blind did she give way and fall to the ground.

I'm going to die, Hermione thought as she lay there, her lungs unable to provide her worn out body with enough oxygen to keep on going. Worst of all: her friends were going to die too. She had failed to reach them and they were going to die because of her.

She blinked dazedly, fatigued to the point of seeing hallucinations: a man in billowing black robes suddenly appeared from nowhere, right in front of where she was lying helplessly on the floor. The last thing she remembered before slipping back into blissful unconsciousness was the feeling of two strong arms carefully lifting her up and carrying her away…

--

--

Hermione didn't know how much time had passed. All she knew that she was alive. But just barely.

She opened her eyes and found herself in an unfamiliar place, though it looked somewhat similar to the Potions dungeons at Hogwarts. Her immediate reaction was that she had fallen asleep in Potions class, but one glance around the room told her that she was alone. Except for one person. He was hurriedly shuffling through various cabinets and boxes, as though he had lost something important.

Hermione wanted to call out to him, but words would not come to her lips. She tried moving her body, but found that she was paralyzed from the neck down. Only her eyelids seemed to function properly.

What's wrong with me? She silently asked the man. Her befuddled mind did not register who he was; it was hard enough keeping her eyes open long enough to watch him.

After a few moments of careless searching, he turned around; his face was extremely pale and he had an unnaturally worried look etched all over his face. Seeing her watching him seemed to calm him slightly.

"Wait here," he ordered her, not that she could leave even if she had wanted to. He departed the room at once, shutting the door quietly behind him.

It eventually became too difficult for Hermione's eyes to remain open; she vaguely realized she was not healing but rather her condition worsened as time passed. Her eyelids slowly drooped over her misty eyes, encasing her once more in the world of total darkness in which she found to be quite a pleasant escape in this miserable state. If this was how she was to live the rest of her life, unable to speak or even move, then death would be preferable. Surely it was too late to save her…

The most peculiar sensation crept over Hermione just after her heart pounded for what should have been the last time: she was no longer trapped in her body; instead, she was nothingness, one with the air. A spirit perhaps. She was travelling along a pitch-black tunnel, towards a tiny speck of light that awaited her at the end. The closer she got to the light, the faster she flew. It was like riding a broom, except this flight wasn't awkward for her as brooms had been. Everything was silent except for the chilly breeze whipping past her bodiless form. She was almost there…

And she had been so close. Just a wand's length away from reaching her destination. Then she had inexplicably stopped and hovered there, unable to move forward no matter how hard she tried. Her spirit strained against the force tugging her backwards, wanting to go on ahead to the light. She did not want to return to the darkness, knowing what awaited her. Much to her dismay, she soon found herself steadily being pulled back to the place where she had begun her journey into this narrow passageway between life and death.

Hermione had been inches away from total death. And now…she found herself in her body once more, feeling more alive than she had ever been.

She could blink. Her eyes did not burn and water up when they remained open. She was no longer paralyzed and would have said something if the sight of her saviour hadn't rendered her completely speechless...

xXxXxXxXx

"I regret it."

Hermione forced herself to open her eyes and watched as Voldemort exited without a second glance towards the man whom was now lying on the ground, dying. There was no remorse in his voice, even though he had ordered the murder of an innocent man just so that he could master a wand. The Deathstick.

A familiar wand appeared out of nowhere in front of Hermione, and carefully prepared to move the crate that had previously blocked the trio's view of the scene.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, knowing what Harry was going to do and somehow understanding his motives for doing so. Her face whiter than a ghost, she glanced back at Ron: all over the colour had drained from his face and he was trembling violently from what they had just seen.

Hermione held her knuckles up to the faint light emitted from the room beyond; without realizing it, her nails had pierced her skin and blood was oozing down her shaking hands. Once Harry removed the Invisibility Cloak— Hermione and Ron didn't bother stopping him— the two crawled out from their hiding spot and tried to make sense of the horrific situation before them.

For the first time ever, Snape looked afraid. More than afraid, he was positively terrified. Hermione found it hard to stay silent as she watched Snape grab Harry and pull him towards himself, as though his former most-hated student were his last hope.

"Take…it…take…it…"

The three noticed that more than just blood was coming from Snape now. Her mind barely registered what she was doing as she conjured a small flask from thin air and placed it into Harry's hands.

Once it was full to the brim, Snape almost released his grip on Harry's arm. Anyone who had lost that much blood would have been dead by now, but he seemed to be holding out for something.

"Look…at…me…"

For some unexplainable reason, his last dying wish was to look at Harry. Time stopped for all of one second, and the next, Snape's hand dropped uselessly to the floor and he went still.

xXxXxXxXx

For quite some time, all three of them were frozen in place, unsure of what to do or say next. Nasty git or not, seeing his death had been truly appalling.

"You have fought valiantly," Voldemort's voice rang out behind them. Harry leaped to his feet and whirled around, perhaps thinking Voldemort had returned to the room, but instead his voice had just been magically magnified.

Ron and Harry stared at the door, listening, but Hermione's eyes were still transfixed on Snape's unmoving body. She had nearly died once, too; if Snape had simply assumed her to be completely dead, then she wouldn't have survived at all. Was it possible that Snape wasn't completely dead?

Careful not to tread in the horrifyingly large pool of blood, Hermione crept over to the man and kneeled beside his head. Neither Harry nor Ron noticed her as her hand reached over to the non-bloodied side of his neck, just below his jaw. It was the carotid artery, Hermione knew from the books on Muggle medical care she had read when she was younger…

There's a pulse, Hermione realized as hand retreated in shock. There was no way…he had to be dead after losing all this blood…

"One hour," Voldemort finished speaking and silence engulfed the area once more.

"Don't listen to him," Ron said firmly. "We'll fight…and win."

The boys turned around and faced Hermione, who was still staring at Snape; for once in her life, she had no idea what potion or spell could save him. Her mind was still numb from the events she had witnessed tonight; it didn't seem to be working properly at the moment, but she knew that if she did nothing then he would undoubtedly die.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice sounded as uncertain as she felt. He, too, was badly rattled by Nagini's attack on Snape.

"I'll…follow you…in a minute," Hermione replied, her voice hollow. Her eyes didn't dare look up at her friends as she spoke.

Not quite understanding their friend's motives for staying behind, yet wanting to respect her wishes, Ron and Harry slowly departed through the hole. Harry turned around and looked at her one last time before disappearing beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

Once she was alone, the panic set in: how had Snape survived that? How would she save him? What if she was too late anyways?

Forcing her mind to concentrate, Hermione pulled out her wand and cleared her mind of everything except the healing spells she had memorized from some of her countless books over the years.

Nothing appeared to help the dying man. The excess blood was siphoned away, and she managed to heal the massive gash on his neck. Still, her efforts were futile. Every other minute or so, she would reach down and feel for a pulse; and each time, it felt weaker and weaker. It was like he was trying to die faster.

The final blow came when she found her small vial of the Essence of Dittany hidden within her pockets…empty. Not even a single drop. She half wondered why she kept the blasted thing if it was completely used up. It had worked for Harry when he had been bitten by Nagini, but Snape's bite was far worse than Harry's had been. Perhaps the stuff wouldn't have even worked on his wound, seeing that none of her healing spells had worked thus far anyways.

Tears welled up in her eyes after her last-ditch effort of Muggle-style resuscitation failed to bring Snape back.

You can't die yet, damn it!

She couldn't even feel his pulse anymore. It was too late to run to the potions stores; by the time she returned he would be long-gone.

Hermione rechecked his wrists and neck for signs of a pulse, but there were no signs of life anymore.

Two years ago, Snape had succeeded in saving her life. Today, although she had certainly tried to save him, he now lay unmistakably dead.

Hermione had failed.

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