Healing A Broken Heart: Snamione Love Story

Unplanned Lesson Plans

Hermione's POV:

Fear crept into my mind and heart as I slowly descended down the dungeon stairs. I had dreamt and thought of him since the night I saved him from his deadly encounter with Nagini, but we had not talked since before I had found out about Ron. Even then, we only talked when necessary, never about personal details.

Now, I had to take care of myself. I had learned the basic survival skills and tricks in the war, but never had truly had it brutal.

The worse part about the war for me was losing Fred, who was like a brother to me, and the fact that I can't undo the spell on my parents. I erased their memories during the war to protect them, not realising what a strong spell it was. At the end of the war, however, I couldn't undo the spell. My parents still don't remember me.

During the war, however, I was taken prisoner and raped by Deatheaters. Involved in the group were Lucius Malfoy, Rudolphius Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, Theo Nott, Vincent Crabbe, and Greg Goyle. This torturous activity left me pregnant at 17. I was terrified for myself and the baby, but, luckily, Harry and Ron saved me. They still don't know what truly occurred in that awful mansion, and I don't plan to tell them, but I don't know how much longer I can keep it hidden, as my bump was tending to enlarge by the minute.

All these dreadful thoughts and more flooded through my head as I walked down to the musty dungeon occupied by the man I was longing to see. How would he react when it was discovered that I was pregnant? Nevertheless, by Deatheaters. Men he had known for years and spied on, reporting back to Dumbledore and saving Harry, Ron and I numerous times.

I took a deep breath and knocked slowly on the heavy dungeon door. There was no reply. I knocked again. No reply again. Bloody hell. I turned and was on the third step up when I heard the dungeon door fly open and a "what?!?" laced with venom.

I slowly turned around to face him. He looked the same as he had before, except he had less power and energy this time. During the war he seemed invincible, and now, I could have hexed him with ease.

"Well, you see, Professor, I was coming down to receive...." I mumbled, twisting my hands into a pretzel. What did I want to say? What was I doing here? I had no clue. I probably should have thought this through on the walk down.

"Quit blabbering and get to the point, Miss Granger." He snapped in his usual cold tone.

"I came down to fetch the lesson plans for tomorrow. Professor McGonagall told me you had them prepared for me?" I managed to squeak out. It was a lie. I had come to see him.

He went to snap back again, but fell into a fit of coughing into a black handkerchief he pulled out. I ran over to help, but he shooed me away.

"See what you've done?" He barked when he finally stopped coughing. "Insufferable girl, you are not needed here! I am perfectly fine and in good health."

He went to lean on the wall and I took the handkerchief from him, waving it as evidence.

"You are not fine nor healthy, Professor! You are ill and this coughing fit only helps prove my point! You do need help, though you won't admit it because you are a stubborn fool! You are as insufferable and impolite as Ronald Weasley!" I threw this in, knowing he hated Ron. "I came here simply for lesson plans," I stormed into the classroom, grabbed them, and stormed back out to my original spot. "And now I have them! I am finished with you! Good evening, Professor!" I shouted, pulling the door shout loudly after throwing the handkerchief in his face.

I walked back upstairs, knowing that this was definitely not finished with. That man was as stubborn as a mule, and as cranky as one, too. I knew he would speak with McGonagall and attempt to remove me from my new position.  And though I did deserve to lose my position, it sounded as if Headmistress McGonagall had no one else.

What bothered me the most, though, was what I found on my hands. The hand that had been waving Snape's handkerchief was soaked in blood. His blood. The situation was more perilous than I had first thought.

McGonagall didn't just bring me back to teach Potions, she brought me back to heal Snape again. Anyone could see it: the lack of light in his eyes, his strained throat, his bloody coughing fits. Snape had fallen deathly ill again and no one knew how to heal him. No one except for me. I had to heal Severus Snape, even if it would be the death of me. Which, at this point, it just may be.