Poisoned Love: A Snanoine Romance

Chapter Five

The top of the Astronomy Tower was cold and dark. It had always been a somber place, even before Snape had sent Dumbledore to his death over it's edge. The wind whipped at his cloak as he leaned against the weather worn stone and stared out into the blackness. It had been two days since he had been given Hermoine's death letter, two days since his heart had been ripped from his chest.

There was a time when Snape had walked this familiar circular section of stone for hours, giving his mind a brief reprieve from its constantly shielded state. He would often journal here as well, a small diary unveiled from an inner pocket of his frock coat and his wand for a pen.

He wrote the tome in magic, silver etchings that displayed themselves only to those he chose. Voldemort himself could not have brought forth the words from the page, and smugly he was proud of that. His diary in truth was his only friend, a confidant in a sea of betrayal and almost certain death.

Snape had given Hermoine the diary at the last moment, mere hours before he would kill Dumbledore, with strict instructions to only use it if she needed it. She hadn't understood, after all why would she when the Potions Master of Hogwarts had summoned her from bed in the middle of the night, only to meet in the Room of Requirement to give her a bloody book. He was surprised at first that she'd even come.

He knew Dumbledore was going to die, knew everyone would think he betrayed them but the only one who mattered to him to know the truth was her. He didn't know why. Perhaps because he knew that she was the only way Harry could ever vanquish Voldemort - without Hermoine, the wizarding world would indeed be lost. A woman with that type of brilliance, who could show empathy to those most deserving of hate, it was only her that could forgive what he was about to do. He needed her, if only her to know the truth.

So he entrusted her with his greatest treasure, his diary. In its pages, would be the answers he knew she would so desperately seek on their journey to destroy the Dark Lord - all the knowledge he possessed. Potions, spells, Dumbledore's last request that he kill him if Draco could not complete the deed, it held it all.

The candles low in the Room of Requirement, he had given her the strictest of instructions on how to open the book, and held her hands tightly around the small tome as he transferred ownership of it to her. Magic had swirled around them, the book recognizing its new owner, they were so very close.

Snape had bowed his head to look at her then, hair whipping in the wind and her expression of confused excitement at the new book to add to her collection. Her brown eyes sparkling in the light of the magic around them. His soul had survived only from replaying that moment over and over during his darkest days after Dumbledore's death.

He pulled himself back from his revelries, the cold jogging him back to the present. He had sensed the wards Hermoine had placed around the wall on the north side of the tower, but had yet to gather enough strength to retrieve what was left for him.

What could she have possibly left for me?

He had never told anyone about his nighttime strolls in the Astronomy Tower. Still, it didn't surprise him that Hermoine knew. She was the brightest witch of her age. His hand hovered over the section of stone, and instantly the wards recognized his presence. A slot in the stones appeared and with it - his diary.

He opened the familiar book in awe, then chuckled at what he found inside. Hermoine's neat writing filled the margins of his most prized possession, she had edited his book! Adjustments to potion quantities she'd made while on the run, pronunciation guides to some of the harder spells, all jotted down in her beautiful script. His back pressed against the cold stone he sank the floor, holding the book in his arms and trying to control himself.

Below in the castle, Hermoine continued to fade. Bruises, cuts, and bite wounds continued to appear against her pale skin by the hour, as Snape's counterpart wounds continued to heal. By Madam Pomfrey's calculations, she may only have about a week left before the inevitable happened. Snape had brought her back to Hogwarts with McGonagall's blessing. Poppy was a better healer then anyone Snape knew and he needed access to his lab to try and develop a cure for Nagini's venom.

Hermoine had round the clock care, Poppy ensuring everything magically possible was done for the little witch while Snape had searched for the impossible - a way to cure her. He had virtually trashed the Hogwarts library, ransacking the restricted section analyzing every dark text he could find for some clue.

The dark wizard had kept himself hidden from the others since he arrived back at Hogwarts, visiting Hermoine only in the wee hours of morning when no one was around. Harry, Ron, and many others had been to visit her regularly in the hospital wing during visiting hours, broken at the slow death their friend was enduring. Ron was on the rampage to kill Snape, he knew. Hell, he would've let him if it would've brought Hermoine back but Harry had kept peace with the Weasley's, knowing her best chance at life was by Severus' hand.

Snape hoped Harry was right. Two days he had not slept, searching every source he could think of to heal the woman he loved. He did love her, from the moment he read her letter he knew his heart did not belong to himself. It was with her, it had always been her. He glanced back down at the diary again, his eyes skimming the pages once more as he took in Hermoine's notes.

Wait. There. He reread the passage notated in her hand. It couldn't be!

"My brilliant witch!" he whispered, hoisting himself to his feet and running down the stairs.