redemption - SOULBOUND I̲̅I̲̅ || SS/HG

2. Essence

"Professor Snape?"

There was a long silence, no one dared to move or even utter a word. The air in the infirmary turned dense while nature - standing majestically outside the window - waved in symbiosis with the hurried wind. It felt like the air had been ripped off his chest, leaving his lungs hungry for their only source of survival. Cold sweat slowly started to form at the root of his hair, dipping in small noticeable droplets of water, gliding down his stoic face before disappearing somewhere on the bed's textile.

Harry couldn't help but gaze worryingly at his potion master, unable to contain the sympathy that surged from within him. He wanted to help him, yet he knew that no words could sooth down the ache that was growing within the man's heart, ripping him to shreds. "Hermione, how are you feeling?" He heard Ron's voice utter from beside him, hand still holding firmly her own, "do you need anything?

A need to run away engulfed the defeated teacher as his eyes drifted away from the sickened girl, his hand twitching in frantic need of reassurance. There were a million words, questions and actions that swirled in his mind - begging for accomplishment - yet he stuffed them away in a corner of his mind, closing the door behind him as he bit his lip - containing his sobbing.

However, a movement caught his attention as Hermione's hand unconsciously moved towards his own, her fingers grazing his before she moaned in pain. Head snapping towards the pained sound, Snape immediately lunged forward and pulled the witch in his arms while helping her seat.

The 'enchantement' was the worst yet most effective concealing spell ever created after the Sybila Inferni. Teeth clenched while he felt her quiver in his hold, Severus remember what he had heard about this dark magic, weakening perilously the mind and soul of the victim while the body battled against it. Hermione was in great pain, he could feel her magic melting with his own, feeding of his vital energy. It was the only way, yet deep down, he knew his actions were from his own selfish nature. The emotional rollercoaster had left him drained with need, empty from any desire other than affection.

Eyebrow raised in a silent inquiry while her lips twitched with worry, Hermione tried to pull her frail body away from the sudden invasion yet found it unresponsive. Fear quickly drew on her features as she cried in panic, her eyes widening in horror. She could feel Snape's hand drawing circles on her lower back while muttering an unknown spell. Engulfed in his scent, sandalwood consuming her scenes as it soothed her from the initial panic, Hermione allowed her body to relax to his ministration. The way his strong arms wrapped around her, his large shoulders shielding her from the word worryingly felt comforting.

"What are you doing?" Whispered hastily the confused red-head, "it's our Hermione, Snape!"

Her skeletal appearance had suddenly caught the attention of the two younger wizards when her figure started to glow as a magical veil covered her limbs, curling like waves on each of her bones - healing her.

"I'm giving her my magic's energy to restore her own enough to keep her alive and well," growled Snape while his focus stayed transfixed on transmitting his energy to the girl in his arms, "if you want your Hermione alive, shut up!"

If she hadn't started to feel drowsy, Hermione would have questioned her professor's words, yet as her surroundings started to twist and blur, darkness soon took over as she fainted in his arms. "Professor S-"

"- my magic overwhelmed her. She will be waking up when her own feeds from my energy," interrupted Snape as his thumb caressed her cheek, "the 'enchantement', how could I have been so oblivious?" He silently questioned himself while the two boys stared at the changing body before them.

"Do you reckon Ravensun cast it?" Wondered Ron as he stared up at his placid friend, his viridescent eyes darkening by the minute, "she's been spending quite some time with her before the soul-switching incident."

"It was to perfect," answered Snape as he stood up and walked towards an open cabinet, taking out a few vials before placing them on the small wooden bed-side table next to Hermione's sleeping form. "In order to cast such spell, the caster needs to have experienced the dark arts himself. Not only used them but tarnished by their malevolence. Seraphina appears to simply be a pawn in someone twisted plan, and besides, she's not a strong witch."

Remembering the whimpering witch in Snape's chambers, Harry pulled a wondering chair at the feet of Hermione's bed and sat on it, his eyes analysing his potion master's stoic features. "What happened to her?"

"I'm guessing you're talking about Seraphina," snapped Snape, his jaw clenching as the memories from that eventful evening billowed. "She's been framed. As you know, Hermione came here to find a way to change the course of time. At first, she started by tracking down Voldemort's horcruxes, but one, in particular, became an apparent issue. Gaunt's ring. That's what you saw wrapped on her finger."

"How can that be possible? Who had it initially? The ring I mean?"

"I believe, Mr Weasley, that Dumbledore had it. It can only be destroyed by the essence from the one who wears it." Bringing the rim of a vial at the edge of Hermione's lips, Snape muttered a spell and gently pulled her lips apart, allowing the liquid to glid down her throat and soothe the aches in her muscles. "It seems so meticulously planned, every detail, everything, it's just too -"

"- perfect," interrupted Harry, "as if that person knows from the get-go when and how everything turns out and modifies it to it's licking."

"And here I was thinking things were going to get better," muttered Ron, his head now resting on his hands as it throbbed in pain.