𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 II SS/HG ✔️

Aftermath

Ron helped Hermione stand. She was drained.

The two of them followed Harry away from the castle. Ron kept his arm around her shoulders—if he hadn't, she probably would've sat down right there in the courtyard and fallen to sleep. Harry led them away from onlookers and people wanting to shake Harry's hand or hug him or celebrate. The smell of dust and dirt surrounded them everywhere they turned.

They sat with their backs against the one greenhouse to survive the onslaught. The smoke above the castle cleared. The sunlight seemed to cleanse the static of hexes and curses away.

A heavy weight sat on Hermione's chest.

"Do I have to use this wand, now?" Harry asked. It was Dumbledore's. The Elder Wand of legend.

"I don't think so," Hermione said. It came out more of a mumble.

"I…talked to Dumbledore," Harry said. "When I was dead, for a bit."

Ron snorted. "And?" he asked, exhausted but recognizing the absurdity of their friend's statement.

"I told him I'd put his wand back in his tomb."

Hermione couldn't keep her eyes open.

"And the Stone. It was in the Snitch, like I thought." Harry looked at the forest. A few centaurs continued to patrol the perimeter. "I dropped it in there, somewhere."

"Tell me you're gonna keep the Cloak, at least," Ron said.

Hermione saw Harry, though blurry, nod.

Her head dropped onto Ron's shoulder.

"Mione, are you alright?" Harry asked. He got up on his knees to look at her.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, reverting from tired to alert.

"The snake didn't bite her, did it?"

"The snake," Ron realized. "Snape—if he's still alive, he's still attached to Hermione's magic."

Ron picked her up like a doll from the shelf. She faded in and out of consciousness. Perhaps Ron flew her up to the Hospital Wing on a broom, or maybe she was hallucinating.

"Hold on, Mione," Ron's voice said somewhere above her. Then she was on her back, in a bed.

Ron's red hair swam into vision, then his freckled face came into focus. "Harry's goin' to get someone to help him move Snape up here."

He retreated, but his rough hand was still wrapped around hers. "Oy, Neville—go get my dad, would you?"

And that was all she remembered.

.

"Who let this cat into my infirmary?"

Hermione jolted awake. Crookshanks arched his back and glared at Madam Pomfrey. The two of them tussled at the foot of her bed, but Crooks dug his formidable claws into the mattress itself.

"Miss Granger." The Healer stopped trying to shove the cat away. "How do you feel?"

Hermione pushed herself upright. "Where is he?"

Ron and Harry were both asleep sitting in chairs against the wall, behind Madam Pomfrey.

And in the bed at her left side, Severus lay asleep, face paler than she had ever seen.

"Is he—he can't be dead," she said, shivering too much to get it all out.

"No, dear," Madam Pomfrey said sotto voce. "I, at the risk of being uncouth—you would feel it, dear."