When All is Lost One is Found

Chapter 117: Power of Promises

When All is Lost, One is Found

Author: Rinoaebastel

Chapter 117: Power of Promises

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and gain no profit from this fanfiction other than writing practice. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

AN: This story may contain scenes taken from the Harry Potter movies and books, but it's not exact dialogue, just rewording of dialogue or omission. It is not marked.

He heard footsteps approaching him as he struggled to stay conscious. Green eyes came to his line of sight. Eyes that reminded him of his obligation and of the fact he hadn't told the boy what he needed to know. A frustrated tear left his eyes. He failed Lily, he failed the boy, and he failed the witch he loved.

Brown eyes broke his focus and another gurgling noise came from his throat. She was at his side and he felt her cold hands moving his away from his neck. He didn't want her to see the life leave him. He wanted her to have the memory of his embrace, not the memory of his death.

"G-get...them," he barely managed to say.

Potter's confused look frustrated him.

"The tear, Harry. Get a vial from my bag and go to a pensieve. It's his memories." Hermione's voice made him close his eyes, tempting him to smile. He felt her pressing harder at his neck and wanted to tell her it was futile, but her smell over the mold of the shack reminded him that he'd made a promise.

So he fought to stay alive a bit longer. As much as he could despite the pain shooting through him every few seconds, despite the shallow breaths he had to take to be able to get in any air at all.

He heard a bottle uncork and something cool pressed against the skin of his cheek. Then a couple of bodies moved. Since Hermione was still applying pressure onto his injury, he guessed Weasley was with them as well.

"You aren't coming, Hermione?" He distinguished Weasley's voice, but he only saw the shaking brown curls in front of him. "He is a traitor! It's not safe for you to stay with him alone."

Safe? What in the bloody hell was he going to do in this state? Stain her to death?

"Come on, Ron," Potter said. "Hermione knows what she's doing, and I trust her."

The steps started then faded. His breaths grew more shallow and a dark haze overtook his vision, he was about to close his eyes when he heard her call his name. He forced his eyes open, probably for the last time and saw tears coming down her cheeks.

"I-I'm...Sorry," he managed to say in between gulps of air.

"Don't talk," she whispered. "I'm not letting you go. Don't argue with me and help me know what to use on you to save you."

He heard panic in her tone, but also heard that strong stubbornness that he'd grown to adore about her.

His mind fogged again as another shiver dominated his limbs. The pressure lifted from his neck for a moment, making him wince. The taste of blood covered his tongue.

She held a vial in front of him. "Severus, I need to know what to use," she repeated. At least, he thought she repeated it.

She held up a vial. "Do I need this?"

His eyes looked at the woman who held the potion that he'd created in the tent with her. "Yes," he gasped out. It would free him of the venom's effects first. But the antivenin wouldn't save him alone.