Obsidian Hearts

I own a HUGE thank you to reapergirl1 for editing and beta reading this chapter and story.

AU / Same world as all of my previous stories! The world and the characters in it belongs to J.K. Rowling

AN: This story has multiple chapters. I don’t know how long or how frequently I’ll update, but I’ll try not to finish on a cliffhanger. If you have any constructive criticism, feel free to share it!

As they strolled across the castle grounds, Harry recanted his weekend escapade with James and Sirius. Hermione’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“So, tell us, Harry!” Hermione said eagerly. “How did it go? Did you finally master the Patronus charm?”

Harry nodded. A big, proud smile spread across his face. “Yeah, it was incredible! Dad and Sirius were amazing teachers. We spent hours practicing by the lake, and eventually I got it.”

Ron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You mean you can conjure a Patronus now? That’s brilliant, mate!”

Harry nodded again. Hermione could tell he was disbelieving of his own accomplishment. “Yeah, it’s surreal. But it’s like dad said, the key is focusing on the happiest memory you can conjure. For me, it’s remembering the feeling of being surrounded by friends, just like here and are now.”

Hermione beamed at him in admiration.

“That’s wonderful, Harry. It’s such a powerful spell, and not easy to master. I’m really proud of you.”

Although happy with Harry’s success, Hermione wondered if she was on the right path with her own spell work.

Ron clapped Harry on the back, and a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, well done, mate. Now you’ll be able to ward off Dementors like a pro!”

With the Trio’s steps a little lighter, and their hearts a little fuller, they continued their walk. They were so lost in conversation, they startled when Professor McGonagall's crisp voice cut through the air. The three came to an abrupt stop.

Hermione turned, her face wilting, seeing the stern yet concerned face of their Transfiguration professor.

“Excuse me, Miss Granger,” the older woman said urgently. “I need to speak with you for a moment.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed; she couldn’t help but worry as she stepped forward. “Of course, Professor. What’s the matter?”

Minerva’s gaze shifted briefly to Harry and Ron before returning to her. “It’s about Professor Snape. He’s in the medical wing.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat; concern flooded her features. “Ma—master Snape? What happened to him?”

Professor McGonagall’s expression softened slightly. “He was conducting an experiment related to the project you’ve been working on together, Miss Granger. Something went wrong, and he’s been injured.”

Hermione nodded slowly, but her mind raced with thoughts of Severus’s well-being. “Is he going to be alright?” Hermione’s emotions crescendoed; she could barely contain the tears welling in her eyes.

Professor McGonagall placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Now, young lady, try not to worry too much. Poppy Pomfrey is attending to Professor Snape as we speak. From what we can tell so far, it seems his magic was depleted. He lost consciousness.”

Hermione let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and some of the tension left her body. “Thank you, Professor. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Professor McGonagall shook her head. “Not at the moment, Miss Granger. Poppy will inform us of any changes in his condition. For now, I suggest you return to your studies.”

Hermione nodded, but she was still visibly shaken. Her professor’s calming words reassured her, however. “Yes, Professor. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll visit him later, of course.”

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Hermione turned to Harry and Ron. “Let’s go back to the common room,” she said with a hint of sadness and, understanding the gravity of the situation, both boys nodded in agreement.

Together, they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, but Hermione’s thoughts spiraled. She was consumed with worry. And so, the evening wore on with Severus Snape weighing heavily on Hermione’s mind. Unable to focus on her studies, she found herself drawn to the medical wing, needing to see for herself how he was fairing.

She arrived at the medical wing’s entrance, looking over the heavy oak door adorned with intricate carvings of healing herbs and mystical symbols. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she pushed open the heavy doors. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the ward, casting shadows across the rows of empty beds. As she entered, her nostrils were awarded with the soothing scents of lavender, chamomile, and the underlining hint of stale herbs from brewed potions.

Hermione hesitated near the entrance, looking down the short corridor lined with the portraits of former Hogwarts healers; each had a story to tell about their unique contributions to magical medicine.

The medical wing of Hogwarts was, and had always been, a sanctuary of healing tucked away in a secluded part of the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the devoted Hogwarts matron, spent her time carefully treating the staff and students, utilizing a blend of magical and modern care techniques. The ward was equipped with comfortable beds, a storage room stocked with potions, and private treatment rooms. The wing was used to mend everything and anything from broken bones to magical maladies. There was even a counseling room for mental health support, guiding the students that no doubt faced troubling times. It wasn’t just a place for treatment: It was a haven of healing magic and compassion, converging to serve the Hogwarts community. . .

Hermione had awakened in the medical wing a time or two—or three—over the years. But she had always managed to get through each illness and malady with visitations from Harry, Ron, and others. She had always received well wishes of a quick recovery. She thought about that as she approached the bed where Severus lay.

Hermione’s heart clenched at the sight of him.

He appeared pale and still—too still. His typical sharp features were oddly softened in unconsciousness, and her eyes lingered on his face. She wondered if anyone, besides her, had visited him. She wondered who would wish him well. . .

Madam Pomfrey rushed into the wing, and Hermione averted her eyes from Severus’s face. The matron approached Severus’s bed and tended to him with practiced efficiency. The matron glanced up at Hermione, her expression softening with sympathy.

“Miss Granger,” Poppy said in a hushed tone. “I'm afraid Professor Snape is still unconscious. We’re monitoring him closely, but there’s been no change.”

Hermione nodded. Her throat was tight with emotion. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Poppy smiled kindly at her. “Just being here is enough, dear. If you’d be so kind as to fetch a calming draught from the storage room, I’d much appreciate it.”

Hermione nodded again. She was grateful for the opportunity to contribute in some way. “Of course, I’ll do it right away.”

Hermione hurried away then returned with the potion requested. Madam Pomfrey was still attending to Severus Snape as Hermione handed the potion over; Madam Pomfrey accepted it with a gentle smile.

Hermione could hardly believe she had brewed the potion with Severus only yesterday, and now it was going to be used to help him recover. She found it reassuring that her time with Snape hadn’t been unnecessary like she had thought the morning after her talk with Harry.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Poppy said with a tone of appreciation. “This should help him relax.”

Hermione watched anxiously as Poppy carefully administered the potion to Severus. After a moment the matron stepped back, shifting her gaze to Hermione.

“We’ll have to wait and see how he responds,” Poppy said softly. “But your potion should help ease his discomfort and wake him sooner. The rest is on him, I’m afraid.”

Hermione nodded, twisting her fingers nervously in the hem of her robe. “I hope so. He’s been through so much already. I couldn’t bear the thought of—” Hermione paused and exhaled. “I. . .I just hope it works.”

Poppy placed a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder, reminding her of Professor McGonagall earlier. “He’s a resilient man, Miss Granger. With time and rest, I'm sure he’ll pull through.”

The night dragged on with uncertainty. Nothing could be heard except the low, steady breaths of Severus Snape as well as the slow-turning pages of Hermione’s book. She remained vigilantly seated beside his bed, her presence like a beacon of light in the darkness.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the pages of her book as she read. It was a small distraction from the worry constantly stirring like a volatile potion in her chest. She tried not to pay attention to the empty ward enveloped in a profound stillness, broken only by the gentle rhythm of Severus’s quiet breathing. Each inhale and exhale from him seemed to echo in the silence, and Hermione liked the reminder of his presence amidst the hushed surroundings. It made her feel less alone, and she matched her breathing to his. . .

Hermione glanced up from her book, her eyes hopeful and scanning Severus’s face for any sign of change. He remained still as ever, his expression peaceful in sleep. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil that had brought him to this state.

She sighed softly, returning to her book. Hermione allowed herself to be drawn into its pages once more, finding solace in the familiar pacing of the words. Time blurred as she lost herself in the story, letting all the worries of the outside world fade into the background. In that quiet moment, she found herself grateful for the simple comfort of companionship, even if it was with an unconscious Severus.

Then she was startled by a rustling sound. She caught movement on the bed out of the corner of her eye, and her breath caught her in her throat.

Hermione’s heart lurched, skipping a beat as she looked up from her book. Her eyes widened in surprise as she slowly turned her head: Severus was sitting upright in the bed, dark eyes focused and alert.

Hermione blinked in astonishment hardly believing he was awake. “Master Snape?” she whispered.

Severus turned his gaze toward her with an unreadable expression. They locked eyes, the silence between them heavy with unspoken questions.

Finally, he spoke, but his voice was hoarse from disuse. “Miss Granger.”

Relief flooded Hermione at the sound of his voice, and she quickly moved to his side. Her eyes shone with concern for him. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Severus shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I. . .I don’t know. The last thing I recall is conducting an experiment on a stronger leftover potion of that ancient magic. I channeled my own magic into it, then suddenly I was blinded by a great light. Everything went black.”

Hermione nodded with a furrowed brow. “You're in the medical wing. Madam Pomfrey has been taking care of you.”

Severus glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings for the first time. “I see.”

Hermione hesitated with her next words, unsure of what to say. “Do you. . .do you remember anything else?”

Severus shook his head with a frown on his face and a crease in his brow. “No, it’s all a blur. I’m. . .grateful, however, for your assistance, Miss Granger.”

Hermione smiled softly, relief washing over her. “Of course, Severus. I’m glad to see you awake.”

As they sat there in the quietly, Hermione felt a glimmer of hope for the future, knowing that Severus Snape was once again among the living. Severus’s brows furrowed in concern as Hermione revealed how long she had been keeping watch.

“You've been here all this time?” he said, and Hermione nodded, her expression serious.

“Yes, I wanted to make sure you were alright. We were all worried about you.”

A flicker of something akin to gratitude crossed Severus's features before he masked it with his usual stoicism.

“I appreciate your concern, Miss Granger, but you needn’t have stayed here all day.”
Hermione shook her head. Her determination was unwavering. “I wanted to. You’ve done so much for me and for Hogwarts. It’s the least I could do.”

There was a brief moment of silence between them, filled with unspoken understanding. Then Severus inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Miss Granger. Your loyalty does not go unnoticed.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hermione’s lips. “You're welcome, Master Snape.”

Hermione frowned, watching Severus rub his temples with a slight grimace.

“Are you feeling alright, Professor?” she inquired, feeling a spike of renewed worry.

Severus glanced up, his dark eyes meeting hers briefly before he offered a faint smile. “Just a touch of a headache, Miss Granger. Nothing to be concerned about.”

But Hermione was not one to let things slide, especially when it came to the well-being of those around her.

“Would you like me to fetch you something? A headache potion, perhaps? Or maybe just a cup of tea?”

Severus hesitated, then replied, “Actually, a cup of coffee would be quite nice.”

Hermione’s was surprised. Snape asking for coffee? That was certainly unexpected. But she nodded briskly, jumping up from her chair.

“Of course, Professor. How do you take it?”

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his bed, a faint blush creeping onto his pale cheeks. Hermione couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his sudden bashfulness. What could possibly make the formidable Potions Master blush?

“I, um, take it with a lot of milk,” Severus mumbled, his gaze fixed on the floor. “And at least six teaspoons of sugar.”

Hermione blinked, taken aback by the revelation. Six teaspoons of sugar? That was practically dessert in a cup!
She quickly masked her surprise with a warm smile.

“A lot of milk and six teaspoons of sugar? That's quite the sweet tooth you have, Severus,”
His cheeks flushed, slight embarrassment crossing his typically impassive expression. A rare sighting, Hermione thought.

“Yes, well. . .I suppose I have a weakness for sweetened coffee.”
She smiled warmly at him. “Don't worry, I'll make it just the way you like it.”

With that, Hermione hurried off to the kitchen; Severus watched her retreating figure and felt a sense of gratitude towards the young witch. Despite his gruff exterior, and intimidating demeanor, Hermione Granger had always treated him with kindness and respect.

Minutes later, Hermione returned with a steaming mug in hand. The rich aroma of sweetened coffee filled the room.

She set the mug down in front of him, a pleased smile gracing her lips. “Here you go, Professor. Just how you like it.”

Of course, Hermione had no chance of knowing she’d be making the overly sweet coffee for the rest of her life.

Severus nodded his thanks, taking a tentative sip. It was perfectly warm, comforting, and just the right amount of sweetness. And, as he savored the familiar sweet taste, he allowed the warmth to spread through him. He realized the warmth was not just from the coffee: it was Hermione's thoughtful gesture.
The two delved into a discussion, and the tension in the ward dissipated. It was replaced by a newfound sense of camaraderie. As the atmosphere shifted, a comfortableness settled in the room. Hermione felt encouraged as something bloomed between them. She was emboldened by the moment.

Hesitating, only for a brief moment, she said tentatively, “Master? May I. . .call you by your given name?”
Severus, who had been carefully examining a vial of potion ingredients, paused at her request. His dark eyes flickered with surprise and discomfort, but he quickly schooled his features into his usual composed expression.

“As your teacher and master, it would be highly inappropriate for you to address me by anything other than Professor Snape or sir in public,” a smile tipped his lips as he continued. “It’s a matter of respect. I wouldn’t call my students by their given names. . .Hermione.”
Hermione’s head snapped up, hearing her name from his lips for the first time. She met his eyes.

“Understand, you became so much more than merely a student long ago. I’ve felt like we’re partners for a while now.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at Severus’s unexpected response. His gaze softened with a vulnerability she had never witnessed before. The layers of his stern demeanor had been peeled away.
She was taken aback by the intimacy of it—of his words, of him—and she felt a great rush of warmth spread through her body.

“Severus. . .” she murmured, assessing the sound of his name on her lips. It was intimate yet comforting. She knew a barrier had been lifted between them.
Severus met her gaze steadily, his expression unreadable.

“Remember, Hermione,” he spoke softly, his tone a warning and an invitation, “this privilege is granted only in private moments. We must maintain the boundaries of our roles in public.”

Hermione nodded, understanding the weight of his words. But there was a sense of anticipation settling into her bones, her heart thudding with excitement, for she had been granted a glimpse into the man behind the facade that was Professor Snape. It was a secret she had to guard carefully—his vulnerability and trust—treasuring each and every rare moment of connection they shared.