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Although Snape was readily wanting to succumb to the temptation of ultimate relief and darkness if it meant that he could be free of the pain and earthly conflicts, the moment he woke up, his first thought was Hermione.

He had been mumbling in his sleep for some time so that Hermione had quickly come to his bedside, and when he opened his eyes, she made sure she was right within his view. "It's alright, you're alright. It's okay...We're safe here."

"What're you talking about? Where are we...?" He had sat up in bed, panicked as he looked at his surroundings while clutching at her hands in a protective way. "What happened?"

They were in a murky and bleak sort of niche of a room that stank of urine, excrement and blood, where there were a few other cots besides the one Snape was lying on-  currently not all unoccupied. There were a couple of patients undergoing treatments for unknown ailments, all sedated or simply sleeping. There was a little cart of medicinal supplies and it was clear that the room had been converted into a makeshift hospital ward with beds and other healthcare facilities.

"After we managed to get out of the house, I signalled for help...you were hurt and I didn't know what else to do. They found us," Hermione explained, "It's the Mad King's people."

Despite her trying to push him back down in bed, Snape got up, eager to listen. "I think it's the London underground, you know, abandoned tube stations and sewer tunnels. These people have been living here for quite some time now. They patched you up," her eyes were on the bandages that had been roughly wound around his chest and he seemed to notice them now too, as well as his shirtless state, that he hasted to put his clothes back on. 

"Wait- don't do that!" she protested when he began to tear open the dressings of his wound. "It's not healed properly..."

"They could've done a better job..."

"Are you sure you are feeling okay?"

"Yes," he said although it still felt like a rib was jabbing into his lungs as he attempted to breathe or talk. He was trying to put on his coat when Hermione saw that he was having some difficulty and came forward to help him slide his hands into the sleeves. He was about to ask whether she had found these people dependable but he was suddenly startled by her closeness. 

"Are you okay?" he found himself asking instead. 

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine," she dismissed, "I was worried about you...I mean, if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have been injured. I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault." he was dismissive, thinking it was guilt that made her go fawning after him. Hermione was about to say something more when a woman entered through the door. Her eyes flickered between the two of them and she gave a sly smile, before announcing, "The Mad King will see you now."

Hermione had grown acquainted with some of the other patients in the room, their caretakers as well as the people who had helped them get in here while Snape had been tended to and lay resting; there were even some children down here, and some of them had approached Snape's bed curiously but kept running away, like he was a sleeping dragon that they were afraid to awaken. There was an entire community down here but she was yet to meet the leader himself. They looked at each other and followed the woman out through the tunnels, occasional candles lighting their path.

It really was a maze down here, a channel of pathways and passages interconnecting in this underpass of the city, infested with rats, roaches and creatures of the dark and now, all these people too, who had become refugees of the new order of the wizarding war. 

They were brought to a kind of juncture point of these underground crossroads, a large opening from where the tunnels snaked out into different directions, where placed on top of a dais was a throne constructed of rusted iron pipes and metals. It was like a spider in the centre of his web and they could really see him running his whole empire of this subway kingdom from there. But nothing could have prepared them for the greetings they were to receive. Since, there seated on the throne, flanked by presumably his right-hand men and most trusted advisors, was Mad-eye Moody.

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