Severus rushed over to Hermione, though she was hardly paying attention as she tried to make her way through the throng of people while coughing up a lung... or a few petals.
The worst part about the whole thing was how familiar it was. She'd felt it a hundred times before, and this time was no different than the last.
"Hermione?" A voice came through loud and clear.
She looked up, Severus looking completely caught up in his concern for her. He'd only ever seen this fit of once while they were out to lunch, so his concern was much more paramount to almost everyone else's.
"What's happening to her?" He asked Luna who had been pushing through the crowd with her, obviously not getting a fast enough response from Hermione herself.
"She has periodic coughing fits," Luna replied softly, willing only to give what he already knew. Then, without question, Luna had somehow conjured a pain potion to hand to him.
"Hermione?" Severus begged again, his hands gripping her shoulders as they stood so close yet so far away from her room. "What isn't she saying?"
"Nothing," she was able to splutter, but the petals coming up were persistent, and they landed in her hand, hopefully no one seeing them besides Luna and unfortunately Severus since they were so close.
Hermione allowed Severus to hold her up, and she told everyone she was just fine... of course, he didn't believe her and finally escorted her to her room so she would explain further, Luna left in the dust of the party which had returned back to normal.
Her fist held the orange flower petals like they were going to jump out and end someone's life if she did not keep them tightly wrapped up, but Severus had escorted her to her bed and took the hand himself. With a shaking breath, he pried open her fingers with his own, revealing the black polka-dots in such striking contrast to their orange background. Her hand was red from how tightly she had held them in her palm, but they remained as pristine as ever.
Hermione hated them.
"Did you just cough up flower petals?"
She scoffed, feeling as though it might be the stupidest question she'd ever heard.
"Yes."
He moved them around with his index finger in her hand, the soft feeling of his skin on hers making her forget that there were a hundred or so people outside of her door. All Hermione could focus on was Severus, his finger coarse against her sore palm.
"And what does that mean for you?"
It was comforting to Hermione that he didn't know what was wrong with her meanings he could very well lie... tell him the same things she was telling Harry and Kingsley. But Luna was in her head, just minutes ago telling her that she needed to tell someone else.
"It's called the Hanahaki Curse," she said. Her voice was clipped, as though reciting to him a fact from a book. "Someone cast it on me, but I've no idea who. It... makes me cough up the petals from the flowers now growing in my chest because I love someone who does not love me back. The petals correlate to who I loved at the time of casting, and-"
"Weasley."
Hermione nodded as he scoffed. There were tears coming now because she still hadn't told him everything. There was a time limit on this whole thing, and part of her wished that she hadn't spoken at all. Why did he need to know?
"How do you remedy this particular symptom?"
Their hands were together now, the petals pressed between them.
"I can't," she muttered. "I had the chance a couple weeks ago when I was only coughing up a single petal to get them removed, but if I did that I could no longer love. I can't live a life without love, Severus. Now... they're going to grow until they snuff me out."
His face remained impassive. She began to cry anew, turning away from him as he only stared at her.
"How long do you have?"
She supposed she could lie to him, give him a larger estimate than the assured one Luna had given her. Hermione had come this far, however, and it wouldn't do well to pile a lie on so many truths.
"I have a little under two years."
He stood, letting go of her hand in favor of pacing the floor. His traditional, signature robes made the action rather dramatic, and she let out a loose chuckle through her cries.
"Are these the circumstances that have kept you from me, or do you truly not feel anything for me?"
Spluttering, Hermione stood as well, letting the petals in her hand fall to the floor or wherever they might land, facing him with all the strength she could muster.
"I feel a lot of things for you, Severus, yet I do not care to string someone along for only two years. It's cruel."
"So you chose to love, and yet will not let yourself do so?"
She hadn't thought of it that way, really.
"Well, I wanted to continue to love my friends-"
"Then why did you come to my home? Besides your nonsense about werewolves which I ma fully aware you know."
Taking a heavy breath, she sat back down, looking into her bathroom that was across from her. This was very hard.
"I wanted to see if you would help me, but I couldn't bother you seeing the life you led. You owe me nothing, in fact, I probably owe you many things. Besides, at this point I have resigned myself to the fact that I am coming to an end much sooner than the rest of my friends. It needn't be worse for them knowing. I don't want to be treated differently, and I didn't want your pity."
"Hermione I will spend every hour of the day searching for a cure for you."
"Luna says there isn't," she said, covering her eyes as hope sprung next to the flowers in her chest. Severus was a smart man, but she could not let him move everything aside just for her.
He was suddenly close, kneeling before her with her knees in his hands. And when she opened her eyes, she realized just how close his face was, their breath intermingling. He was looking up at her, a soft palm against her face, thumb on her temple.
She could feel the magnetism of him, but Hermione was determined not to hurt him.
"Severus," she said as a weak warning.
There was nothing in her that said she wasn't attracted to him though, and being like this, with his body pressed against her own, a moment of doubt came over her to if she should stop denying him. They were compatible, all the time they'd spent together had proven that, and the spell he was putting over her by merely standing there was out of the world insane. Hermione wanted to give in, to lean down and meet him there, but she needed to control herself... to not hurt him.
Still, they were eye-to-eye now, and Hermione felt powerless when his hand, calloused against her skin, let his thumb stroke the bone under soft skin.
"This is a bad idea," she determined shakily, taking one of her own hands and placing it over his, attempting to remove it, but she was far too weak to notice he would not budge.
"I wish I could believe you."
"I still love Ron." This did not work to deter him, only made him more curious, more passionate before her.
Hermione had such horrible will power.
"Let me help you heal... from that, and from your curse," Severus whispered huskily, his voice obviously laden with the feelings they were both succumbing to.
He leaned in, quickly, but the kiss was soft, sweet, and slow. If any of her senses could have worked against him, she most certainly wouldn't have allowed him to continue his gentle ministrations. Oh, but kissing Severus Snape was beyond what she imagined it would be, and his body against her own was sin itself. Hermione wanted him and everything he'd once insinuated, but the fact that she was dying stopped her. It made her blood flow cold, knowing what type of torture she might put him through if he continued to think she was finally letting him in.
Despite her resistance, her senses were overcome and wanted more. Her hand was no longer in her lap, but on his neck, feeling the warmth and power of him, the other still gripping his hand that was against her face and pulling closer. He smelled wonderful, like the sea he lived near, fresh and healing. She grinned into the kiss at how he tasted, so very unexpected a flavor, like nothing at all, and her eyes opened briefly to see his closed, bliss in the wrinkles that had relaxed since his retirement. The final sense that got her, however, was the slight growl he made when she pulled him in further against her own better judgement.
Severus was everything she wanted, her magic agreeing as it tingled in her body, but her thoughts won out in the end.
"Severus," she scolded as their kiss broke, his stunned nature enough to allow her to break away from him, their hands still entwined, however. Hermione was nearly in tears as she added, "I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" He asked, a mixture of anger and sadness coming forth despite his stone-cold visage.
"We can't do this, I can't do this to you. I can't be more than yours, or anyone's, friend, Severus."
Releasing her hand, he closed his, rubbing them quite unceremoniously, and looked back at her, eyes red and angry. It was such a stark color against his normal black that Hermione felt terrible for having to say what she did, but it had needed to be said, and she didn't care if it hurt him anymore. Maybe he would finally get the message... and it would be one less person to mourn her when she passed.
"You keep saying that, but I am offering myself up like a slave, and yet you continue to punish me because you think you cannot release Weasley, or that you cannot live beyond a certain time. What does it matter if I am willing to deal with these things?"
He looked out of breath, and Hermione could sympathize with that more than anything.
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
She was, but he did not believe her, and there were people outside who probably were wondering where they'd gone.
"Do you really think you could help me?" She asked with a shaking voice, not wanting to necessarily give in quite yet, but also knowing that what she felt with him pressed against her was absolutely thrilling.
"Obviously, or I would not offer."
Hermione made a decision and stuck to it, getting up once again to run to him, throwing her arms around him with a surety that wouldn't have lasted if she didn't feel him embrace her back.
And they kissed again, Severus smiling through it all despite the bad news and timer now ticking over him as well. Hermione didn't want to let herself hope, but at least she could let herself love for just a little while.
A/N
So with the changing of everything, this chapter ended a lot differently than I had originally planned on. Regardless, I like it better this way anyways, and the whole thing, really.