Harrypotterbang Chapter Ten
Title: Severus Snape and the Battle of Hogwarts
Pairing: Snape/Hermione, Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG13
Warnings: AU Deathly Hallows
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series belongs to J K Rowling. No copyright infringement intended, and no money is being made.
Beta: The wonderful glittersprite
Artist: The most talented duskblue
Summary: Severus Snape is Headmaster of Hogwarts, Death Eater, estranged member of the Order of the Phoenix, long-suffering victim of Dumbledore’s Army and battling against all the odds to ensure the Dark Lord’s defeat.
Chapter Ten
The snake bit down on his throat at the same time that he realised the Dark Lord meant what he was raving about and had instructed Nagini to bite to kill. As he fell to his knees he clutched one hand to his throat and with the other scrabbled at his robes whilst Lord Voldemort swept out of the room and the snake slithered after him. Unable to hold his body upright he fell to the floor, his face to the wall and his arm trapped under him. Blood spilled out from between his fingers as his eyes registered that the Boy Who Lived to be the Bane of his Life was crouched next to him frozen with shock at what he had seen and heard. He reached out and grabbed his robes attempting to get his attention, but the reason was lost when his memories started spilling out his mouth. The horror of the act that he had always been expecting and the unlikely fact that Lily’s son was knelt beside him had triggered a need in him. He had a burning urge to show him everything that he had done and the memories were pouring from his mouth as he tried to speak.
“Take them,” he croaked and saw that the boy had got a jar from somewhere and he was safely catching the memories inside it.
“Look at m….,” his voice faded to a whisper as his sight went black and he knew nothingness.
***
The next awareness he had was the thought that the boy had simply stared into his eyes. If any proof was needed that the child was an idiot that was it. He had not, in any way shape or form, been attempting to look his last into that brats eyes, whether they reminded him of Lily or not. He had been attempting to tell him to look at his hand. Had he managed to finish his sentence without the pain causing him to black out he would have said ‘Look at my hand’ in reference to the hand that had been clutching that dim-witted imbecilic dunderhead’s robes. Within which had been his vial of Nagini antidote.
At that thought, his throat seared and burned and he coughed raspily and then jerked his head when cool, gentle fingers pressed against his forehead, causing the burn to worsen. The fingers pressed more firmly against his head, tilting his face upwards and he felt liquid being poured into his mouth making him splutter and choke. A voice murmured at him from afar and yet more cool, gentle fingers rubbed his throat up and down coaxing the liquid downwards at the same time as chasing the burning sensation away. He drifted back into the blackness as he wondered how fingers could have such a cooling effect.
Loud shouting bangs and the resounding noises of hexes bouncing off the hall walls helped to bring Snape back round again. This time there were no cool fingers on his forehead or potion at his lips to sooth the pain in his neck. He turned his head sideways towards the noise and was met by a front seat view of the Battle of Hogwarts. As spell after spell was flung between the fighting wizards and witches he could only watch helplessly as his fingers twitched, itching to be part of it and to be able to protect the fighters that were fighting to rid the world of the Dark Lord, but his condition rendered even constant watching impossible.
The Death Eaters still fighting slowly dwindled under the onslaught from the fighting Order members until there was only the Dark Lord left. Snape was drifting in and out of consciousness and only got snapshots of the action taking place. He saw Potter and Voldemort standing alone facing each other and thought they had finally got to the point that they had all been working towards. He passed out again before the duel started and when he came to the Dark Lord was no more. He couldn’t explain how he felt now that the Dark Lord was defeated and as he looked to one side his eyes locked with a pair of large brown eyes showing a mixture of joy and sadness in a depth that he could only wonder at before the pain overcame him again.
***
After the mingled feelings of Lord Voldemort being defeated, some had gathered together to mourn with each other over those that had died whilst others had galvanised into action to help with those that were injured. The severely injured were being transferred one by one to St Mungo’s and, having come to again, Snape was surprised to overhear Potter vehemently defending him and practically ordering Minerva and Madam Pomfrey to have him moved to the hospital at once. What he missed, as he faded back into unconsciousness, was Harry explaining to Professor McGonnagal the truth about Severus Snape and his true involvement in the war effort on the side of the Light and Minerva’s contrite expression as she thought back over how she had treated him for the last few years.
He was taken straight to the Dai Llewellyn ward for serious bites which was on the first floor. The floor specialised in creature-induced injuries and they seemed to have been getting a lot of practice with snake bites these past couple of years. Healer Smethwyck had begun barking orders from the moment he was brought in. The Healers had then set to it with a gusto not often seen in that ward because it was unusual for so many creature induced injuries and there were all sorts of injured witches and wizards being brought in as they worked. The werewolves had certainly made their mark. But, then, the amount of injured people that were being brought into St Mungo’s in total was not usually seen and speed was of the essence to enable some of the Healers to move on to the next patient. The war had been kind to no-one.
They had trainees scurrying to and fro with bandages and bottles and the other implements that Smethwyck was shouting for as he bent low over Snape’s prone body, waving his wand in an intricate fashion close to his neck. The bite from the snake had been closed but he had lost a lot of blood beforehand and they needed to ascertain what damage the venom had done. They were no closer to making him stable. What looked like blood replenishing potions and a strengthening solution were coaxed down his throat, but not before his body convulsed horribly.
Harry had not been able to get him to the Healers in enough time. His organs were deteriorating and the delay in treatment had caused him to have a stroke. Healer Smethwyck was able to stabilize his heart and other internal organs with more frantic wand-waving. Next a potion that was grey in colour had also been forced down his throat. (Later, when he was better, Snape discovered that he had been given a specialty potion of which the main ingredient was ground bezoar to help with the healing process, which was appropriate considering the injury). His body had outwardly relaxed and one of the trainee Healers had settled him more comfortably onto the bed pulling the covers over him advising Minerva, who had stayed until she was sure that he was stable so that she could report back to Harry, that now all they could do was wait.
***
Hermione had found herself unable to stay away from St Mungo’s for long. When she had gone, after the battle, to be healed she had made it her business to find out where Professor Snape was following the report that they had received from Professor McGonnagal on her return to the school. As soon as they had declared her fit enough to be allowed to leave she had gone to visit him. From then on she had visited him every day. Not out of pity and not out of guilt. The exact reason why she was drawn to him every day was beyond her current comprehension, but she couldn’t just leave him there alone, even though the Healer had advised her that they were keeping him asleep until his diagnostics improved.
Daily visits to a sleeping Snape had turned into daily visits of her reading the latest potions articles and other published works on academic subjects. She tried to convince herself that she was reading them for her own improvement and that she was reading them out loud to stop the room from being so silent. When Snape had come to she had continued to visit and continued to read to him from the publications, extending it to new books that were released and new theories that were being argued over. He had been unable to speak to begin with and she had not known whether he had wanted her there or not, but there was that thing that kept making her come back so she had refused to allow his glares to push her away.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she approached the desk situated in front of the doors to the ward and asked the nurse how he was doing.
“Oh, hello my dear,” the nurse said kindly, “I think you will be most pleased with his progress today, we have managed to get his voice working again. It is a little scratchy and, I am sure, still very painful, but it is extremely good progress!”
Thanking the nurse for her heads up, Hermione moved away from the desk and towards the door to the ward. As she entered she saw Snape sat upright in his bed, his black pyjama top buttoned right to the top and arms folded across his chest as he stared out of the window. The noise of the door as she entered made him turn around and, to her surprise the look on his face was not one of complete hostility.
“Tell me,” he said in a scratchy whisper as she approached his bedside, “how did I end up here?”
“Minerva brought you here,” replied Hermione matter-of-factly as she sat down in the armchair beside his bed.
“That was not what I meant.” He shifted in his bed in irritation. “After the Dark Lord set Nagini on me I was unable to take my antidote.” Breathing raspily he paused before continuing, “I blacked out whilst trying to tell Potter to administer it.”
“Oh, well, that’s simple!” Hermione responded smiling at him. “I administered it to you.”
He stared at her as she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but find that smile fascinating. It reached her large brown eyes and seemed to add flecks to them that he had not seen in any other eyes before. They made him want to smile back.
fin
Pairing: Snape/Hermione, Harry/Ginny
Rating: PG13
Warnings: AU Deathly Hallows
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series belongs to J K Rowling. No copyright infringement intended, and no money is being made.
Beta: The wonderful glittersprite
Artist: The most talented duskblue
Summary: Severus Snape is Headmaster of Hogwarts, Death Eater, estranged member of the Order of the Phoenix, long-suffering victim of Dumbledore’s Army and battling against all the odds to ensure the Dark Lord’s defeat.
Chapter Ten
The snake bit down on his throat at the same time that he realised the Dark Lord meant what he was raving about and had instructed Nagini to bite to kill. As he fell to his knees he clutched one hand to his throat and with the other scrabbled at his robes whilst Lord Voldemort swept out of the room and the snake slithered after him. Unable to hold his body upright he fell to the floor, his face to the wall and his arm trapped under him. Blood spilled out from between his fingers as his eyes registered that the Boy Who Lived to be the Bane of his Life was crouched next to him frozen with shock at what he had seen and heard. He reached out and grabbed his robes attempting to get his attention, but the reason was lost when his memories started spilling out his mouth. The horror of the act that he had always been expecting and the unlikely fact that Lily’s son was knelt beside him had triggered a need in him. He had a burning urge to show him everything that he had done and the memories were pouring from his mouth as he tried to speak.
“Take them,” he croaked and saw that the boy had got a jar from somewhere and he was safely catching the memories inside it.
“Look at m….,” his voice faded to a whisper as his sight went black and he knew nothingness.
***
The next awareness he had was the thought that the boy had simply stared into his eyes. If any proof was needed that the child was an idiot that was it. He had not, in any way shape or form, been attempting to look his last into that brats eyes, whether they reminded him of Lily or not. He had been attempting to tell him to look at his hand. Had he managed to finish his sentence without the pain causing him to black out he would have said ‘Look at my hand’ in reference to the hand that had been clutching that dim-witted imbecilic dunderhead’s robes. Within which had been his vial of Nagini antidote.
At that thought, his throat seared and burned and he coughed raspily and then jerked his head when cool, gentle fingers pressed against his forehead, causing the burn to worsen. The fingers pressed more firmly against his head, tilting his face upwards and he felt liquid being poured into his mouth making him splutter and choke. A voice murmured at him from afar and yet more cool, gentle fingers rubbed his throat up and down coaxing the liquid downwards at the same time as chasing the burning sensation away. He drifted back into the blackness as he wondered how fingers could have such a cooling effect.
Loud shouting bangs and the resounding noises of hexes bouncing off the hall walls helped to bring Snape back round again. This time there were no cool fingers on his forehead or potion at his lips to sooth the pain in his neck. He turned his head sideways towards the noise and was met by a front seat view of the Battle of Hogwarts. As spell after spell was flung between the fighting wizards and witches he could only watch helplessly as his fingers twitched, itching to be part of it and to be able to protect the fighters that were fighting to rid the world of the Dark Lord, but his condition rendered even constant watching impossible.
The Death Eaters still fighting slowly dwindled under the onslaught from the fighting Order members until there was only the Dark Lord left. Snape was drifting in and out of consciousness and only got snapshots of the action taking place. He saw Potter and Voldemort standing alone facing each other and thought they had finally got to the point that they had all been working towards. He passed out again before the duel started and when he came to the Dark Lord was no more. He couldn’t explain how he felt now that the Dark Lord was defeated and as he looked to one side his eyes locked with a pair of large brown eyes showing a mixture of joy and sadness in a depth that he could only wonder at before the pain overcame him again.
***
After the mingled feelings of Lord Voldemort being defeated, some had gathered together to mourn with each other over those that had died whilst others had galvanised into action to help with those that were injured. The severely injured were being transferred one by one to St Mungo’s and, having come to again, Snape was surprised to overhear Potter vehemently defending him and practically ordering Minerva and Madam Pomfrey to have him moved to the hospital at once. What he missed, as he faded back into unconsciousness, was Harry explaining to Professor McGonnagal the truth about Severus Snape and his true involvement in the war effort on the side of the Light and Minerva’s contrite expression as she thought back over how she had treated him for the last few years.
He was taken straight to the Dai Llewellyn ward for serious bites which was on the first floor. The floor specialised in creature-induced injuries and they seemed to have been getting a lot of practice with snake bites these past couple of years. Healer Smethwyck had begun barking orders from the moment he was brought in. The Healers had then set to it with a gusto not often seen in that ward because it was unusual for so many creature induced injuries and there were all sorts of injured witches and wizards being brought in as they worked. The werewolves had certainly made their mark. But, then, the amount of injured people that were being brought into St Mungo’s in total was not usually seen and speed was of the essence to enable some of the Healers to move on to the next patient. The war had been kind to no-one.
They had trainees scurrying to and fro with bandages and bottles and the other implements that Smethwyck was shouting for as he bent low over Snape’s prone body, waving his wand in an intricate fashion close to his neck. The bite from the snake had been closed but he had lost a lot of blood beforehand and they needed to ascertain what damage the venom had done. They were no closer to making him stable. What looked like blood replenishing potions and a strengthening solution were coaxed down his throat, but not before his body convulsed horribly.
Harry had not been able to get him to the Healers in enough time. His organs were deteriorating and the delay in treatment had caused him to have a stroke. Healer Smethwyck was able to stabilize his heart and other internal organs with more frantic wand-waving. Next a potion that was grey in colour had also been forced down his throat. (Later, when he was better, Snape discovered that he had been given a specialty potion of which the main ingredient was ground bezoar to help with the healing process, which was appropriate considering the injury). His body had outwardly relaxed and one of the trainee Healers had settled him more comfortably onto the bed pulling the covers over him advising Minerva, who had stayed until she was sure that he was stable so that she could report back to Harry, that now all they could do was wait.
***
Hermione had found herself unable to stay away from St Mungo’s for long. When she had gone, after the battle, to be healed she had made it her business to find out where Professor Snape was following the report that they had received from Professor McGonnagal on her return to the school. As soon as they had declared her fit enough to be allowed to leave she had gone to visit him. From then on she had visited him every day. Not out of pity and not out of guilt. The exact reason why she was drawn to him every day was beyond her current comprehension, but she couldn’t just leave him there alone, even though the Healer had advised her that they were keeping him asleep until his diagnostics improved.
Daily visits to a sleeping Snape had turned into daily visits of her reading the latest potions articles and other published works on academic subjects. She tried to convince herself that she was reading them for her own improvement and that she was reading them out loud to stop the room from being so silent. When Snape had come to she had continued to visit and continued to read to him from the publications, extending it to new books that were released and new theories that were being argued over. He had been unable to speak to begin with and she had not known whether he had wanted her there or not, but there was that thing that kept making her come back so she had refused to allow his glares to push her away.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she approached the desk situated in front of the doors to the ward and asked the nurse how he was doing.
“Oh, hello my dear,” the nurse said kindly, “I think you will be most pleased with his progress today, we have managed to get his voice working again. It is a little scratchy and, I am sure, still very painful, but it is extremely good progress!”
Thanking the nurse for her heads up, Hermione moved away from the desk and towards the door to the ward. As she entered she saw Snape sat upright in his bed, his black pyjama top buttoned right to the top and arms folded across his chest as he stared out of the window. The noise of the door as she entered made him turn around and, to her surprise the look on his face was not one of complete hostility.
“Tell me,” he said in a scratchy whisper as she approached his bedside, “how did I end up here?”
“Minerva brought you here,” replied Hermione matter-of-factly as she sat down in the armchair beside his bed.
“That was not what I meant.” He shifted in his bed in irritation. “After the Dark Lord set Nagini on me I was unable to take my antidote.” Breathing raspily he paused before continuing, “I blacked out whilst trying to tell Potter to administer it.”
“Oh, well, that’s simple!” Hermione responded smiling at him. “I administered it to you.”
He stared at her as she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but find that smile fascinating. It reached her large brown eyes and seemed to add flecks to them that he had not seen in any other eyes before. They made him want to smile back.
fin