Two boarhounds flanked me with a frizzy-haired Witch blocking my forward path. She was doing her best to take me down with various flames, chains, and other unpleasant spells that were easily counter cursed. I was more concerned about the dogs that seemed to be waiting for me to falter before they attacked. I'd sent several spells to spook or bind them but being known hunters, they moved adeptly out of the way and didn't seem the least bit phased by the screeching colony of giant ghost bats that I had divebombing them.

     "No!" Hermione's beautiful, pain-filled voice tore through me.

     I spun and watched as she sank to the earth, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks.

     My gaze flew to what she was staring at, and the air was knocked out of me as if by an invisible punch to the gut. Wendell Granger had blood dripping from his nose and ears. His black, empty eyes were staring into the sky, and his chest was as still as the ground he lay upon.

     No!

     Hermione had been so strong, so brave the whole time and to have it all break apart at the last moment had set my blood on fire, engulfing me with rage.

     "We don't leave until we've retrieved Wendell Granger's body," Trembling from my boiling emotions I refocused my efforts and pushed towards the man's crumpled form.

     In the few moments of distraction, the boarhounds had decided to move in too close for my comfort. A trio of Panthers sprang from the tip of my wand, quickly engaging the mutts and I pushed on.

     With a flick of my wrist, the Witch that was pissing me off was sent flying into the side of the burning house with a loud crunch. I took several steps forward before fire shot through my left arm, and the electric jolts of panic scrambled my mind as I grabbed it.

     Hermione!

     Turning my head, my gaze land upon her struggling form suspended inside a floating bubble. One arm was reaching towards me, and the other was locked around her bleeding throat. Her eyelids fluttered closed as I reached out my hand to her.

     Why is her throat bleeding? Is she breathing? I can't breathe! Who did this to her? Someone is going to pay with every ounce of their blood for hurting her!

     My mind kept cycling through all these thoughts and dozens similar in theme as I strived to teleport.

     Nothing happened, so I attempted to run.

     No such luck - I couldn't lift my feet. My black shoes were already absorbed by the earth, and soon, my knees would be too.

     Why did you let her come? Why didn't you stay closer to her like you know you should have? Will you get the chance to tell her that you've been consumed by the very thought of her? Get to her now, Severus!

     I scanned the yard, looking for the person who would die for this, and my gaze landed on Greyback, standing on the burning second story balcony. His hand was reached out towards my beautiful Little Witch as if he was squeezing her throat and getting a hard-on from it.

     Infuriated, I sent a trio of crucifixion nails at him. The first noisily crunched into his shoulder, spinning him to face me. 

     Exasperation filled his scraggy face as he pulled the metal from his body and threw it on the deck with a thud, "No!"

     When his enraged blue eyes burned into mine, I couldn't keep from smiling while sending a second nail to graze his other shoulder and move him where I wanted him. 

     As he lifted his arm to cast at me, my third and deadliest spike pinned his hand to the burning building behind him, snapping his wand in half in the process. From the bloody nail, a sarcophagus cage sprang forth and bound itself around him. 

     "No! Severus Snape, you will pay for this!" He howled in rage as he beat his body against its unbending metal. 

     Burn dog!

     His pained, enraged screams filled me with momentary joy. 

     Hermione needs you!

     My eyes snapped to her lifeless form, and helplessness overwhelmed me as I tried to move my feet once again. 

     Focus, Severus! 

     I grabbed hold of my feelings of anger, fear, and even love - harnessing them in; letting them boil in my stomach, making me sick and feel like I'd pass out from the intensity. My arms shot out towards Hermione, and the ground split open as if a giant scalpel was slicing it, making a clear path to the object of my desire.

     My limbs were freed, and within seconds I'd flown under the bubble and summoned huge hands made of dirt and clay. It grabbed hold of the orb, pulling it apart with a suction popping noise, releasing her into my waiting arms.

     "I have you, Hermione," I cradled her small frame and sank to the ground. Wrapping us in an invisible shield, a new flood of fear coursed through me.

     She's not breathing!

     With my unsteady hand hovering over her throat, I chanted as though I was giving my life force to the powerful healing words, "Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur... Vulnera Sanentur." I  imagined her airway opening back up, and the lacerations coating her neck seal back together.

     As she sucked in a sharp lungful of air, I trembled in relief. 

     You can breathe easier now, Severus.

     I spent a few moments listening to her take several more unsteady breaths and wishing more than anything that she'd open her velvety-brown eyes and smile at me.

     Stroking her bloody, dirty cheek, "Hermione? Can you hear me?"

     She didn't move, and I checked her pulse - light and thready.

     Get her to a healer, now!

     Touching my ear, "Granger's hurt, I'm taking her to St. Mungo's. Get Wendell's body and Greyback's from the second-story balcony." I stood, holding the most precious thing in the world clutched to my chest.

     "We'll do what we can and report to the Ministry," Abdelaziz stated.

     "Yeah, don't worry Boss, just take care of your girlfriend."

     "Markus!"

     "Yeah, Boss?"

     My lips twitched, "Neuter the dogs, bring back evidence."

     "Rodger that!" Ellison's excited voice boomed just before loud explosions and bright lights cluttered the air.

     Without a backward glance, I teleported us to the exit. Apparated to Zofia's tavern and then the port-key brought us directly to London. Within minutes I had her in a hospital bed, and I was telling the healers what had happened as they took her vitals and did a thorough examination.

     For the next few hours, guilt consumed me as the frightening image of Hermione suspended helplessly inside the spherical cage kept replaying.

     It had been determined by the Minister of Magic, my co-workers and myself that it was inevitable that Hermione would find her own way to be in the midst of danger where her parents were concerned. Allowing her to come along, made it, so we knew what she did, and if there were complications, she could be there to make the hard decisions. The third reason we consented was so we could better protect her — a whole lot of good that did.

     The real reason I'd agreed to it was purely selfish - I wanted to be near her.

     I felt helpless as I sat there holding her limp hand, admiring her courage, strength, and beauty. Seeing her father be struck down would bring the strongest person to their knees, and I should have stayed closer to her in case something like this happened. 

     My eye's traced the soft line of her jaw, finding it as enchanting in sleep as when she'd be worked up over something and clench it, doing her best not to say something that she really, really wanted to. 

     I begged the delicate little fingers that had toyed with mine under a table mear hours ago to caress me once again.

     Give her time and breathe, Severus. Breathe in, one - two - three. Breathe out, one - two - three.

     This...this is a new personal hell.

     11:47 a.m.

     "She's suffered some damage to her vocal cords from choking and her subsequent clawing. There isn't anything abnormal in her bloodstream, and her oxygen levels have all returned to normal since her arrival a few hours ago. There's nothing more we can do, but wait and hope she wakes up soon." The healer's kind eyes ran over me, "How is your arm feeling?"

     I looked down at the repaired left forearm, "It's mended, but there is a scar from it that I don't believe will disappear completely."

     "I've never seen an injury like that before. What caused it?"

     My gaze landed on the enchanted crystal necklace I'd made Hermione. What she didn't know was that it's linked to a stone that I wore on a wristband and if her life were ever in jeopardy, it would give me a jolt. I hadn't planned on it feeling like it was going to rip my limb in half, but I was pleased it worked so well.

     "A complex charm that I created to keep her safe."

     She scrunched her face and let the matter drop, "You look like you could handle a shower and some rest. I'll summon you when she wakes."

     I stood up and stretched my legs, "Very well."

     The healer walked off, and another set of footfalls padded into the room.

     "You!"

     My eye's snapped to the redhead I liked the least in the world and wondered what administrative asshole contacted this git, "Weasley."

     "What are you still doing here?"

     "Making sure Miss. Granger has stabilized."

     "Right," he scoffed.

     "Mister Weasley, is there something you wish to say to me?" I peered down my nose at him.

     He glanced nervously between her and I, "She shouldn't have ever been allowed to go on such a dangerous mission, and we both know it."

     Here we go. Round one...

     "It certainly proved to be more dangerous than the Ministry anticipated. However, I have the utmost confidence in Hermione's skills as a Witch, and she asked to come along." I looked down at her beautiful face before snapping my eyes back to his, "I will give her anything she asks of me—any and everything Mr. Weasley."

     "Pff, I know she's a brilliant Witch! But Hermione's the brains, not the bronze." 

     I stared at him, wondering for the millionth time how she could even entertain the idea of marrying him, "Her intellect gives her a bigger arsenal than most small world countries. I'd not dare battle against her."

     "Well, if she was such an amazing fighter, then how come she's laying in that bed hurt?"

     What an idiot!

     "She watched her father get struck down, and Greyback used it against her." 

     "You did a lousy job at keeping her safe and should be the one lying in that bed, not Mione!" His angry blue eyes bore into mine.

     Round one goes to me. Round two...

     "I understand that you're frightened of losing her, so you're lashing out at me. But before you continue to pollute the air with your asininity, I'd like to know how you can even call yourself her friend when you haven't bothered to help her find the very people that gave her life?"

     He stiffened and glared at me, "You don't know anything!"

     "Really?" I couldn't believe the nerve of this twit, "Just this morning you could have waved your broken Weasley wand over your secondhand shoes and made them warm and waterproof. What's your real reason for not coming along?" 

     "You heard!" His mouth dropped open, and his blue eyes widened in surprise.

     I continued as I glared at him, "I know, maybe, you didn't want to be in the same vicinity as me because then Hermione would know what a pitiful little Wizard you really are. Or perhaps..." I was furious he'd neglected Hermione's needs—she deserved so much better than that—and wanted to make him cry, "...Fred took your manhood with him when he died!"

     "Don't you dare talk about Fred!" He looked lost for words then blurted, "Besides, Mione and I are getting married, so you don't have a chance in hades of being with her!"

     Round two goes to me. Round three...

     "Are you?" My blood pressure skyrocketed enough to make me want to punch him in the face, and I don't usually act that way—it's uncivilized.

     "Yeah, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?"

     "No, but I did hear that you proposed."

     "Well, yeah, that's how you get engaged."

     "Funny—I didn't notice a ring." I couldn't help but smile as his eye's shot to her exposed bare hand, and his shoulders sagged.

     "Could you not afford one?"

     "Yes!" He glared at me.

     "Where is it then?"

     "She...she must have left it at home because she was too scared to lose it," He replied stupidly.

     "She has small hands. I'm sure you already knew that her ring finger is a five and a half."

     "I got the right size ring," He scoffed.

     "I wonder what her real motivations for choosing not to wear it are? Don't you?"

     His face twitched, and I snorted at deflating his momentary arrogance.

     "Maybe..." I moved to hover over him and scowled, "...she'd prefer a real diamond ring—from me."

     His mouth dropped open.

     Ding, ding, ding! Winner of all three rounds!

     I left the room feeling pretty good about myself and headed immediately for the Ministry to give Shacklebolt my debriefing.


     12:16 p.m.

     I hadn't slept the night before receiving Zofia's owl, so I was feeling dirty and drained of energy. Due to that fact, I hoped to make this a short visit and be home within the next hour when spotting the familiar green-eyed young man and looked him over.

     "Harry?"

     "Severus!" Harry's face lit up in delight, and he walked over and gave me a quick bracing hug that I wasn't prepared for. 

     I smiled warmly, not used to the feeling of doing that to him, but pleased that I was now allowed to know Lily's son the way I had always wanted to. However, being hugged by him was going to take some getting used to.

     Harry's tone was full of concern, "How's Hermione doing?"

     "She was hit with a spell that choked her. I was able to clear her airway, and she was breathing, but only after she'd blacked out."

     "Is she ok?"

     "They believe that she sustained some damage to her vocal cords. I just need her to..." I trailed off, unable to vocalize how I was really feeling without whining like Weasley.

     Harry laid his hand on my shoulder in reassurance, "Severus, Hermione is one of the strongest people I know. She'll be all right."

     I looked up into his green eyes and slowly nodded, unaccustomed to being consoled, but grateful for the support.

     "Markus told me that they didn't find Wendell Granger's body," His bright-green eye's looked into mine. 

     "They didn't?"

     Harry shook his dark head, "Nope. Tell me, why would they bother taking a dead body?"

     My mind stirred to life with the possibility that Mr. Granger was alive and how I could still get him back to his daughter.

     Harry gave me a knowing smile, "Also, If they killed him, they'd have no leverage to keep the Ministry at bay."

     "That makes sense." I gave him a shrewd look, "When did you get smart? I thought it was always Hermione doing the thinking for the three of you."

     His smile broadened, "Draco tells me I have my moments of brilliance. That must have been one of them."

     "Next time we go in for Wendell Granger, we go in full force."

     His shoulder-length black hair gently swayed as he nodded, "Count me in."

     "Good."

     Harry cleared his throat, "This probably isn't the right time, but I want to get this off my chest and then never have to talk about it again."

     I didn't like his tone or where I thought this was headed, but folded my arms across my chest and listened.

     "Ron is my best mate, and I hate to see him hurt. But, Hermione is also my good friend, and I know she doesn't want to be with Ron anymore."

     "What does this have to do with me?"

     The look he gave me said not to play stupid with him, "If what I'm hearing is true, then all I can ask is that you take the best of care of her when everything settles down."

     "How do you-" He cut me off.

     "Draco."

     "Of course," I sighed slowly figuring he must have overheard one of the multiple conversations I'd had with his parents concerning a girl I wanted, but we never named in case the Slytherin Prince was around - lotta good that did.

     "Really? You're not going to tell me that I'm wrong and shouldn't stick my nose into other peoples business?"

     "You shouldn't." I looked him over carefully, "But, as you said, she's your good friend, and I understand your concern."

     "Well, yeah." He shuffled his feet, "She means a lot to me, and I'm positive I'd never have defeated Voldemort without her by my side."

     I looked him in the eye, "Weasley proposed to her last night."

     "I know." He shook his head, "She's not going to marry him."

     "What makes you so sure?"

     "He's taken her for granted for the last year and didn't even notice that she was falling out of love with him." He looked around awkwardly before surprising me, "And completely missed the fact that she was falling in love with you." 

     She loves me!? I was giddy about Harry's statement, but I wanted to hear it from her before I completely accepted its validity. 

     I smiled before clearing my throat, unable to believe I was going to say this to him, "You'll never have to worry about me taking the utmost care with her in everything. That's if she chooses to be with me."

     He gave me an unsettling smile, "Severus?"

     I nodded slowly, not enjoying the feeling I was suddenly getting from him.

     "Do you remember hearing about how I disintegrated Voldemort?"

     Swallowing down the little bit of fear that he evoked with his veiled threat, "If I hurt her, I'll beg you to end me kindly."

     He let out a huge breath and relaxed his shoulders, "Ok. I'm headed to pick-up Draco and then to St. Mungos. I'll see you later, Severus."

     That was unpleasant!

     "Goodbye, Harry."

     Within minutes, I walked up to the Minister's office, and he waved me in as soon as his eyes landed on me.

     The lively safari-themed office held the Minister, Abdelaziz, and Markus. 

     "Snape, I received word about Hermione Granger's condition. How is she fairing?" Kingsley asked as I closed the door behind me.

     "Still unconscious," I hated how helpless I felt.

     "Don't worry Severus, she's young and will recover in no time."

     I must have looked worse than I'd feared if both Potter and Shacklebolt were consoling me, to shake off the discomfort I changed subjects. "I was able to recover this." I placed Hermione's purple bag on the floor, "Monica? Are you awake down there?"

     "Oh!" She giggled, "You're that tall, gorgeous guy! Where's your beautiful wife? I wanna thank her for the drink, it was good!" Her voice carried out of the bag.

     Kingsly scrunched his brow at me, and I waved my hand so he wouldn't ask any questions. 

     "She's inebriated." He didn't need to know with what and I leaned back over the bag, "Why don't you come on out so we can have a nice talk."

     "Well all right," She agreed.

     I reached in and set up the ladder for her to ascend. As she popped out of the floor she looked around with a teetering head, and I helped her the rest of the way out with an offered hand.

     "Monica, this is my good friend Kingsley Shaklebolt and several other good friends."

     Kingsley's dark eyes drew over her and the look of horror and amazement in them was exactly how I must have looked the first time I'd laid eyes on her shattered state.

     The tension in the room began to grow palpable before Abdelaziz stepped forward, "Why don't I show you to one of the guest rooms we have for visiting dignitaries and you can get cleaned up and into a fresh set of clothes."

     Monica nodded, and I hooked her frail hand into the crook of the Auror's arm, "This is Yasmine and she will take good care of you. I'll be by to check on you later." I looked into the Auror's intelligent brown eyes and gave her a silent thank you.

     "Ok," Monica squeaked out.

     After they left the room, Shacklebolt unceremoniously dropped into his chair looking unsure about what to say or do. I let him have a few moments for his thoughts to percolate before his dark gaze sought me out, "She can perform magic?"

     "I saw her do it the first time I came across them. This time we found her all alone and she was relatively easy to collect."

     "Why do you think she was alone?"

     I shook my head in irritation. Something about the whole situation didn't seem right, but I didn't have a valid reason as to why I should feel that way. "I think it would be best if we gave Monica twenty-four hours to get her bearings before we start questioning her. Unless Abdelaziz is already coaxing information from her as we speak," I'm positive the incredibly efficient Auror was doing just that.

     "By then, Hermione Granger, might be awake and she can help us with her mother," The cowboy-hatted Markus added.

     "Agreed," Please, wake up! "Who did you collect, Markus?"

     "We have two more new-maj's, a werewolf and a witch."

     "What about Greyback's body?"

     "There wasn't one."

     My pulse kicked up, " What do you mean there wasn't a body? I trapped him in a sarcophagus cage and he was burning to death when I'd last seen him."

     Shacklebolt's eyes widened and he leaned back at the venom in my voice, while Markus just shook his head.

     "Very well, we can worry over Greyback after you tell me about who's here. Tell me about the dog."

     "Names, Thadius Tomlin, not a man I've seen before but you may recognize him from the initial meeting with Greyback in Norway. Abdelaziz was able to place him there and said he looked like he had an eagle-head."

     I nodded remembering the oddity.

     "He's refusing to talk. We've started him on a treatment that should have him singing songs for us by morning if not sooner. The other, Marilla Chesterly, known Death Eater and wanted for her atrocities at the Battle of Hogwarts, amongst other things." He scrunched his face a little, "She no longer has a tongue to confess anything to us with."

     "No tongue?"

     "She ripped it out in front of me after saying she'll never speak again."

     "Take her to a healer and get it repaired."

     "No can do, Boss. She incinerated it and cast some form of charm that blocks any and all attempts at fixing the problem."

     Sighing heavily, I pinched the bridge of my nose in hopes of easing the headache I was getting from the day's event's, "Witches! What about the two new-majs?"

     "They're slightly better than Monica but not much. I recommend you use your special mind-meld thingy and get in there. It would be easier than trying to get them to talk."

     "Very well. Any good news?" 

     The room went silent and the proverbial pin could be heard echoing loudly.

     "No sign of Wendell Granger."

     That's right!

     "He must be alive."

     Markus and the Minister looked at me like I was crazy, but Harry was right about this. "Why would they take his body? He was useless to them dead."

     "I thought the same thing at first, but they could be saving him for breakfast."

     Fuck!

     Several hours later and a lot of speculation the Minister insisted we go home and reconvene after some good food and a well earned nights sleep.

     Without giving it a second thought, I made my way back to St. Mungos. I walked into the sterile white room in hopes of seeing her smile or to be sitting up. Instead, I found Ron Weasley asleep in a chair next to Hermione's bed and she hadn't moved since I'd been here last.

     I silently drifted to her bedside and caressed her silky cheek.

     Her porcelain color was more lively and the cuts from earlier were all but a faded memory. I kissed her forehead and sucked in a deep breath of her Hermione perfume.

     "Sleep well, my Know-it-all," with that I went home and that night I dreamt of burning werewolves, crazed Witches and the frighteningly still body of the woman I was helplessly in love with.