Fic: Stopper Death (snape, hermione) 1/1
Title: Stopper Death
Author: Shannon
Type: Fiction
Length: 2411
Pairings: (no pairing) Snape, Hermione
This is for the prompt Stopper Death
And thank you to emeraldswan and angelskuuipo for betaing this for me.
You are here to learn the subtle science
And exact art of potion-making.
As there is little foolish wand-waving here,
Many of you will hardly believe this is magic.
I don’t expect you will really understand
The beauty of the softly simmering cauldron
With its shimmering fumes,
The delicate power of liquids that
creep through human veins,
bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…
I can teach you how to bottle fame,
Brew glory, even stopper death…
Stopper death
He’d been telling first years that it was possible for sixteen years. The words rolled through his mind over and over, stopper death, and here he was lying on the floor dying. Why hadn’t he been prepared for this, why hadn’t he seen it coming? Sixteen years of surviving as a spy, of double-crossing Voldemort every chance he could and this is what will bring him down. Potter is finally close to destroying the evil bastard and now he’s going to die before he ever gets a taste of being free.
“Professor.” He turned his head slowly at the urgent whisper. “You need to drink this.” He felt the small vial being pressed to his lips. He drank as Moody’s words echoed through his head, constant vigilance. Don’t drink something from some else, everyone could be an enemy.. Hell, he didn’t even know what it was supposed to be, but he drank.
Hands were pressing something against the wounds on his neck. He could hear words being whispered. She was trying to stop the bleeding. His vision was blurry; he couldn’t focus on who was helping him. Why was anyone helping him? He had killed Dumbledore; Voldemort wanted him dead. Who would save him?
***
She didn’t know why she had come back. Harry had said he was dead. She had seen him, if only from a distance, and he looked dead, but she couldn’t let him die. She knew he had killed Dumbledore but she had come back as soon as she could get away from the Weasleys. She had come to try to help him. Something in her still refused to believe Dumbledore had been so incredibly wrong about this man.
She forced the vial against his mouth, worried that he might refuse. Sure he had no idea who was in here with him, or that he was in any condition to identify what she was forcing him to drink. She hadn’t thought this would be the reason she’d use this potion but it was too late for the others. Too late for Fred, Lupin, or Tonks, so she’d save whom she could.
He was still bleeding, blood gushing everywhere. She pulled an old T-Shirt from her bag and pressed it against the wounds, and picked up her wand, praying she remembered the healing spell correctly. She had to stop the bleeding and she couldn’t go find Madame Pomfrey, she had to do this alone.
She sighed in relief when the blood started to slow; removing the cloth slowly she saw the wounds starting to close. Looking up at the pale face she realized his eyes were open and he was watching her.
***
“Miss Granger?”
Why was she here? Why would she help him? Did she see the memories, did she know? No there wasn’t time for her to have done that. He would’ve been dead by the time she and Potter had gotten through them all. So if she didn’t know, why was she saving him? Was she saving him? What had she given him?
“Sir, stay down,” Hermione whispered, “You’re still weak. I think I can apparate us away from here although I’ll have to leave after I get you someplace safe. It’s not over yet.”
“What did you…?”
Before he could finish the question he felt himself being pulled away. He didn’t know where she was taking him and, for now, he didn’t care. He felt himself start to fall and suddenly he was suspended in the air and floating along.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I can’t lift you and I’m not sure you’re able to walk.” She lowered him onto the small sofa and stepped back. “Try not to move, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Before he could say anything she had turned on the spot and was gone with a loud pop. So what did he do? Wait here? Try to leave? He had no wand, and she had probably been right, he was in no condition to move. Where was he? Did she hide him? Or did she turn him over to the Order as a prisoner? Did she stop the bleeding only to watch him be tortured, murdered, or sent to Azkaban? And he still didn’t know what she had given him. It appeared to be helping but it could just as easily be something that will just kill him slowly.
***
“I’m sorry I was gone so long, Professor,” Hermione said as she appeared next to the sofa. I brought you some soup, you must be hungry.” She knelt beside him and helped him to sit and quickly transfigured a tray to place the soup on and set it over his lap.
“What did you give me, Miss Granger,” he asked slowly, “at the Shrieking Shack, what did I drink?”
“Tribuo Vita” she answered. “I’ve been carrying it ever since…” her voice trailed off not wanting to bring back the memories just yet. The battle was over, they had won, and everyone knew that Severus Snape was a hero. She also knew what it had cost him. How steep the price had been, and was silently relieved she had gone with her instincts and saved the man before her.
“Where did you learn…?” Snape asked.
“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death,” she quoted as she pushed his hair away to check the wounds on his neck.
He took another spoonful of soup, and set his spoon down before responding. “I didn’t teach you that.”
“No,” she smiled slightly, “but you taught me that it was possible. I did the research and brewed it. We were going to be looking for a way to destroy one of the world’s most powerful wizards, a stopper for death seemed like a good thing to keep around.”
Hermione let herself relax after checking the wounds on his neck and seeing that they were almost completely healed, and that he seemed less pale than he had before. When it was over, when Voldemort was dead, Harry had insisted she and Ron go into the pensieve; that they see what he saw. Part of her hadn’t wanted to do it, she felt like she was intruding on something she had no business in. Memories and thoughts were personal; Snape hadn’t intended to share them with anyone but Harry. She had gone though; she had watched the little boy and watched the events that turned him into the man sitting next to her right now. She saw how he had been an outcast at school, how losing the one person he cared for had turned him into a Death Eater. How the threat of Lily’s death had made him realize how wrong he was, how he had tried to save her life. She saw the way the Headmaster had manipulated him into doing things he didn’t want to do, used his guilt over Lily’s death to get what he wanted. How Dumbledore had disregarded Snape’s soul and justified forcing Snape to murder him with the claim of helping him. She had seen it all, knew Snape had given them the sword. Knew Snape was at Hogwarts to protect the students as well as he could without putting them in more danger by exposing himself. It made the fact that he had nearly died needlessly even worse. When she thought that a cold-blooded murderer had been killed because of faulty logic it had been something she could live with, but if he had died because Dumbledore had forced him into this horrible situation…
“How are you feeling?” She asked as he finished his soup.
“Better,” he admitted. “Why did you come back?”
“Why did I come back to the Shrieking Shack?” She asked and he nodded silently, his eyes watching her. “I don’t know. We were watching from the tunnel and it was all so…I couldn’t let you die that way.”
“You had every reason to believe I deserved to die.”
***
He didn’t understand why she didn’t let him die. He was guilty, he had killed Dumbledore, and she didn’t know the reasons, but even he wasn’t sure the reasons excused what he had done. Dumbledore’s death had given Voldemort the opportunity he needed to launch a full-scale attack on the Wizarding world.
“I did,” she agreed, answering his question. “I thought you were a death eater, that you were responsible for…but I saw your eyes, saw the fear and the resignation to your fate and I just…I never really believed you were evil.”
“So you saved my life, to force me into a life in hiding?” He asked. “I’m not sure that’s an improvement on death.”
He frowned when her eyes widened in shock. What did the girl think would happen? That the man believed to have personally sent the Wizarding World spiraling into Voldemort’s hands would be welcomed back with open arms? He had no illusions of being well liked before this and after Dumbledore…
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she finally said, “I didn’t tell you. It’s over, Voldemort’s dead, and everyone knows the truth. You don’t have to hide, you’re a hero.”
“Excuse me?” He asked surprised. He was not a hero. It was his fault Lily was dead and his fault Dumbledore was dead.
“Harry told everyone what you did,” she explained, “he told them that you only did what Dumbledore asked, that you gave him the sword so he could destroy the horcruxes. He told them you were protecting the students from the Carrows.”
“What happens now?” He truly was uncertain. For the first time since he was a teenager he was unsure what was expected of him.
“Right now, only Ron, Harry, and I know you’re alive,” she answered, “Whenever you’re ready you can announce your presence to the rest of the world. Although I would suggest you let me tell the Weasleys. I did what I could but I’m not a healer, I don’t know the spells as well as I should. Mrs. Weasley would be able to help more, make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
***
It took some time but Hermione finally breathed a sigh of relief when he agreed to tell the Weasleys he was alive. Mrs. Weasley and Charlie had come immediately after she’d flooed, with potions, salves, and spells to heal his wounds. Mrs. Weasley declared him well, and agreed there was no reason to take him to St. Mungos since they wouldn’t be able to do anymore for him and there were so many that needed treatment right now.
She knew he’d need a few days to rest and regain his strength. They healed the wounds but even magic can’t fix blood loss. Mrs. Weasley suggested he not be left alone, but he didn’t want to return with them to the Burrow so Hermione quickly agreed to stay with him. For two days she sat in the house mostly alone while he slept. She spent the time studying; she was hoping to be allowed to take her N.E.W.T.s even though she missed her seventh year.
When he was awake, and willing, they talked a great deal. Seeing his memories had given her a new understanding of her Potions Professor. They had a lot in common and the boys stopped by occasionally and were amazed that she seemed to be forming a friendship. Although, she had also seen Harry slip Snape a photo of his mother before he left after his first visit. She didn’t mention seeing anything, because obviously neither wanted to talk about it. But she was glad that finally the deeper wounds could start healing.
***
Miss Granger stayed with him while he recovered, after receiving Molly Weasley’s seal of approval. They got along quite well; he had begrudgingly admitted he and Miss Granger had a lot in common. They talked of incidents that had taken place during her six years as his student and he wondered more than once during her explanations of the Polyjuice incident, Draco’s broken nose, and the Dumbledore’s Army incident, how this girl wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. But at the same time glad she wasn’t, with her intentions clearly aimed at the good she was truly dangerous, he’d not want to see her intentions aimed at ambition or becoming a death eater.
Potter and Weasley had stopped in several times over the last two days. He would never like the boys, they still reminded him too much of the past and pain, but they had saved the Wizarding World and deserved at least a small amount of respect. When Potter was leaving after their first visit he had slipped an envelope into his hand on the way out. He had hidden it in his pocket but he was sure she had seen it, and just had the good graces not to say anything. That night, he had opened it, not sure what to expect, and had found a photo of his Lily. One he’d never seen before. She looked like it was taken after Hogwarts, after he had lost her friendship and any chance of having her love. She was smiling and waving. He opened the note that fell out with the photograph.
I’m sure my mother would want you to have this.
Snape quickly placed it all back in the envelope and once again hid it in his pocket. He was sure Potter had no idea just how much this photo meant to him.
Today he’d go to the memorial service with Miss Granger. Today was his last day to avoid his fate. The remaining members of the Order were honoring their fallen friends: Lupin, Tonks, Fred Weasley, Moody, and so many others dying for their cause. Dying in what they had to believe was a losing battle. He’d go and mourn their loss; they deserved it. And he’d face his own fate, and just hope that he’d receive the hero’s welcome Miss Granger seemed so sure of.
The end
Author: Shannon
Type: Fiction
Length: 2411
Pairings: (no pairing) Snape, Hermione
This is for the prompt Stopper Death
And thank you to emeraldswan and angelskuuipo for betaing this for me.
You are here to learn the subtle science
And exact art of potion-making.
As there is little foolish wand-waving here,
Many of you will hardly believe this is magic.
I don’t expect you will really understand
The beauty of the softly simmering cauldron
With its shimmering fumes,
The delicate power of liquids that
creep through human veins,
bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…
I can teach you how to bottle fame,
Brew glory, even stopper death…
Stopper death
He’d been telling first years that it was possible for sixteen years. The words rolled through his mind over and over, stopper death, and here he was lying on the floor dying. Why hadn’t he been prepared for this, why hadn’t he seen it coming? Sixteen years of surviving as a spy, of double-crossing Voldemort every chance he could and this is what will bring him down. Potter is finally close to destroying the evil bastard and now he’s going to die before he ever gets a taste of being free.
“Professor.” He turned his head slowly at the urgent whisper. “You need to drink this.” He felt the small vial being pressed to his lips. He drank as Moody’s words echoed through his head, constant vigilance. Don’t drink something from some else, everyone could be an enemy.. Hell, he didn’t even know what it was supposed to be, but he drank.
Hands were pressing something against the wounds on his neck. He could hear words being whispered. She was trying to stop the bleeding. His vision was blurry; he couldn’t focus on who was helping him. Why was anyone helping him? He had killed Dumbledore; Voldemort wanted him dead. Who would save him?
***
She didn’t know why she had come back. Harry had said he was dead. She had seen him, if only from a distance, and he looked dead, but she couldn’t let him die. She knew he had killed Dumbledore but she had come back as soon as she could get away from the Weasleys. She had come to try to help him. Something in her still refused to believe Dumbledore had been so incredibly wrong about this man.
She forced the vial against his mouth, worried that he might refuse. Sure he had no idea who was in here with him, or that he was in any condition to identify what she was forcing him to drink. She hadn’t thought this would be the reason she’d use this potion but it was too late for the others. Too late for Fred, Lupin, or Tonks, so she’d save whom she could.
He was still bleeding, blood gushing everywhere. She pulled an old T-Shirt from her bag and pressed it against the wounds, and picked up her wand, praying she remembered the healing spell correctly. She had to stop the bleeding and she couldn’t go find Madame Pomfrey, she had to do this alone.
She sighed in relief when the blood started to slow; removing the cloth slowly she saw the wounds starting to close. Looking up at the pale face she realized his eyes were open and he was watching her.
***
“Miss Granger?”
Why was she here? Why would she help him? Did she see the memories, did she know? No there wasn’t time for her to have done that. He would’ve been dead by the time she and Potter had gotten through them all. So if she didn’t know, why was she saving him? Was she saving him? What had she given him?
“Sir, stay down,” Hermione whispered, “You’re still weak. I think I can apparate us away from here although I’ll have to leave after I get you someplace safe. It’s not over yet.”
“What did you…?”
Before he could finish the question he felt himself being pulled away. He didn’t know where she was taking him and, for now, he didn’t care. He felt himself start to fall and suddenly he was suspended in the air and floating along.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I can’t lift you and I’m not sure you’re able to walk.” She lowered him onto the small sofa and stepped back. “Try not to move, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Before he could say anything she had turned on the spot and was gone with a loud pop. So what did he do? Wait here? Try to leave? He had no wand, and she had probably been right, he was in no condition to move. Where was he? Did she hide him? Or did she turn him over to the Order as a prisoner? Did she stop the bleeding only to watch him be tortured, murdered, or sent to Azkaban? And he still didn’t know what she had given him. It appeared to be helping but it could just as easily be something that will just kill him slowly.
***
“I’m sorry I was gone so long, Professor,” Hermione said as she appeared next to the sofa. I brought you some soup, you must be hungry.” She knelt beside him and helped him to sit and quickly transfigured a tray to place the soup on and set it over his lap.
“What did you give me, Miss Granger,” he asked slowly, “at the Shrieking Shack, what did I drink?”
“Tribuo Vita” she answered. “I’ve been carrying it ever since…” her voice trailed off not wanting to bring back the memories just yet. The battle was over, they had won, and everyone knew that Severus Snape was a hero. She also knew what it had cost him. How steep the price had been, and was silently relieved she had gone with her instincts and saved the man before her.
“Where did you learn…?” Snape asked.
“I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death,” she quoted as she pushed his hair away to check the wounds on his neck.
He took another spoonful of soup, and set his spoon down before responding. “I didn’t teach you that.”
“No,” she smiled slightly, “but you taught me that it was possible. I did the research and brewed it. We were going to be looking for a way to destroy one of the world’s most powerful wizards, a stopper for death seemed like a good thing to keep around.”
Hermione let herself relax after checking the wounds on his neck and seeing that they were almost completely healed, and that he seemed less pale than he had before. When it was over, when Voldemort was dead, Harry had insisted she and Ron go into the pensieve; that they see what he saw. Part of her hadn’t wanted to do it, she felt like she was intruding on something she had no business in. Memories and thoughts were personal; Snape hadn’t intended to share them with anyone but Harry. She had gone though; she had watched the little boy and watched the events that turned him into the man sitting next to her right now. She saw how he had been an outcast at school, how losing the one person he cared for had turned him into a Death Eater. How the threat of Lily’s death had made him realize how wrong he was, how he had tried to save her life. She saw the way the Headmaster had manipulated him into doing things he didn’t want to do, used his guilt over Lily’s death to get what he wanted. How Dumbledore had disregarded Snape’s soul and justified forcing Snape to murder him with the claim of helping him. She had seen it all, knew Snape had given them the sword. Knew Snape was at Hogwarts to protect the students as well as he could without putting them in more danger by exposing himself. It made the fact that he had nearly died needlessly even worse. When she thought that a cold-blooded murderer had been killed because of faulty logic it had been something she could live with, but if he had died because Dumbledore had forced him into this horrible situation…
“How are you feeling?” She asked as he finished his soup.
“Better,” he admitted. “Why did you come back?”
“Why did I come back to the Shrieking Shack?” She asked and he nodded silently, his eyes watching her. “I don’t know. We were watching from the tunnel and it was all so…I couldn’t let you die that way.”
“You had every reason to believe I deserved to die.”
***
He didn’t understand why she didn’t let him die. He was guilty, he had killed Dumbledore, and she didn’t know the reasons, but even he wasn’t sure the reasons excused what he had done. Dumbledore’s death had given Voldemort the opportunity he needed to launch a full-scale attack on the Wizarding world.
“I did,” she agreed, answering his question. “I thought you were a death eater, that you were responsible for…but I saw your eyes, saw the fear and the resignation to your fate and I just…I never really believed you were evil.”
“So you saved my life, to force me into a life in hiding?” He asked. “I’m not sure that’s an improvement on death.”
He frowned when her eyes widened in shock. What did the girl think would happen? That the man believed to have personally sent the Wizarding World spiraling into Voldemort’s hands would be welcomed back with open arms? He had no illusions of being well liked before this and after Dumbledore…
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she finally said, “I didn’t tell you. It’s over, Voldemort’s dead, and everyone knows the truth. You don’t have to hide, you’re a hero.”
“Excuse me?” He asked surprised. He was not a hero. It was his fault Lily was dead and his fault Dumbledore was dead.
“Harry told everyone what you did,” she explained, “he told them that you only did what Dumbledore asked, that you gave him the sword so he could destroy the horcruxes. He told them you were protecting the students from the Carrows.”
“What happens now?” He truly was uncertain. For the first time since he was a teenager he was unsure what was expected of him.
“Right now, only Ron, Harry, and I know you’re alive,” she answered, “Whenever you’re ready you can announce your presence to the rest of the world. Although I would suggest you let me tell the Weasleys. I did what I could but I’m not a healer, I don’t know the spells as well as I should. Mrs. Weasley would be able to help more, make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
***
It took some time but Hermione finally breathed a sigh of relief when he agreed to tell the Weasleys he was alive. Mrs. Weasley and Charlie had come immediately after she’d flooed, with potions, salves, and spells to heal his wounds. Mrs. Weasley declared him well, and agreed there was no reason to take him to St. Mungos since they wouldn’t be able to do anymore for him and there were so many that needed treatment right now.
She knew he’d need a few days to rest and regain his strength. They healed the wounds but even magic can’t fix blood loss. Mrs. Weasley suggested he not be left alone, but he didn’t want to return with them to the Burrow so Hermione quickly agreed to stay with him. For two days she sat in the house mostly alone while he slept. She spent the time studying; she was hoping to be allowed to take her N.E.W.T.s even though she missed her seventh year.
When he was awake, and willing, they talked a great deal. Seeing his memories had given her a new understanding of her Potions Professor. They had a lot in common and the boys stopped by occasionally and were amazed that she seemed to be forming a friendship. Although, she had also seen Harry slip Snape a photo of his mother before he left after his first visit. She didn’t mention seeing anything, because obviously neither wanted to talk about it. But she was glad that finally the deeper wounds could start healing.
***
Miss Granger stayed with him while he recovered, after receiving Molly Weasley’s seal of approval. They got along quite well; he had begrudgingly admitted he and Miss Granger had a lot in common. They talked of incidents that had taken place during her six years as his student and he wondered more than once during her explanations of the Polyjuice incident, Draco’s broken nose, and the Dumbledore’s Army incident, how this girl wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. But at the same time glad she wasn’t, with her intentions clearly aimed at the good she was truly dangerous, he’d not want to see her intentions aimed at ambition or becoming a death eater.
Potter and Weasley had stopped in several times over the last two days. He would never like the boys, they still reminded him too much of the past and pain, but they had saved the Wizarding World and deserved at least a small amount of respect. When Potter was leaving after their first visit he had slipped an envelope into his hand on the way out. He had hidden it in his pocket but he was sure she had seen it, and just had the good graces not to say anything. That night, he had opened it, not sure what to expect, and had found a photo of his Lily. One he’d never seen before. She looked like it was taken after Hogwarts, after he had lost her friendship and any chance of having her love. She was smiling and waving. He opened the note that fell out with the photograph.
I’m sure my mother would want you to have this.
Snape quickly placed it all back in the envelope and once again hid it in his pocket. He was sure Potter had no idea just how much this photo meant to him.
Today he’d go to the memorial service with Miss Granger. Today was his last day to avoid his fate. The remaining members of the Order were honoring their fallen friends: Lupin, Tonks, Fred Weasley, Moody, and so many others dying for their cause. Dying in what they had to believe was a losing battle. He’d go and mourn their loss; they deserved it. And he’d face his own fate, and just hope that he’d receive the hero’s welcome Miss Granger seemed so sure of.
The end