Hermione flung open the doors to the Great Hall and plunged straight into the crowd. Her eyes swept frantically over the faces, searching for Harry.
"Ron! Ron!" she shouted, her voice carrying over the rows of makeshift hospital beds.
"What is it, Hermione? Why are you so out of breath?" Ron asked, worry written on his face.
"Harry—I'm looking for Harry," she gasped. "Where is he?"
"He's all the way back there." Ron pointed towards the massive pillar near the rear third of the hall.
Without another word, Hermione darted away, weaving through the chaos until she reached Harry, who was handing out pain-relief potions for Madam Pomfrey.
"Hermione! There you are—are you alright?"
"Quick, Harry, I need the Marauder's Map. Do you have it on you?" Hermione's urgent tone made it clear that something serious was at stake.
Harry set down the tray of potions and dug through his bag. Hermione bounced on her feet, impatience radiating from every movement.
"Here it is. Who are you looking for?"
"Slughorn."
Her eyes scanned the map with sharp focus, tracking each tiny dot. Suddenly, her gaze froze on a location outside the castle walls.
"Can I take this with me?" she asked, a spark of relief in her voice.
"Of course. Do you want me to—" But she was already gone.
Hermione wished—not for the first time—that she were more athletic. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she raced out of the castle doors and across the lawn. She would not, could not, let Snape die just because she was an untrained bookworm. That thought alone pushed her harder, over the rolling grass and toward Hagrid's hut.
She banged on the door. No answer. Circling around, she spotted Hagrid and Slughorn approaching from the forest, each with a shovel in hand.
"Where's Nagini?" she yelled, still running toward them.
"No worries—she won't be harming anyone again," Slughorn said, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. "We've buried every last piece of her. Nature will take care of the rest."
"I need the snake. Now! Her fangs—her venom—it's a matter of life and death!"
"You must be joking, Miss Granger," Slughorn replied, looking appalled. "She's buried two meters deep, and I've no intention of digging her up again." Sweat trickled down his temples, and Hermione suspected his refusal had more to do with exhaustion than revulsion.
"Please. I need her fangs—we don't have much time to save Professor Snape."
Her vision swam, and her legs trembled, but adrenaline kept her standing.
"Come on, I'll help you," Hagrid rumbled. "Bit of dirt's no trouble. Give me half an hour and I'll have her head unearthed. Just the fangs, right?"
"Hagrid, you're the best—literally," she said, already turning. "Start without me—I have to get to Neville for the rest of the potion ingredients. Professor Slughorn, could you help Hagrid extract the fangs? You know the procedure."
Slughorn nodded, relieved to be assigned the delicate work rather than the digging.
The castle seemed far larger on the way back. Hermione's pulse hammered again as she reached the doors and pulled out the Marauder's Map. Neville was in Snape's laboratory.
She hurried down into the dungeons, pushing open the classroom door to the sound of a knife slicing through herbs.
"There you are," Neville said brightly. "I've gathered everything—most of it fresh from the garden. Only the sage leaves were dried. I prepared them all exactly like the recipe said."
Plants were Neville's element, and his face lit with pride. Still, Hermione decided she'd better handle the brewing herself; potions had never been Neville's strength. And she didn't want him knowing the brew was meant for Snape—he might cut himself from nerves, or worse, accidentally add an extra dose of poison.
"Neville, you're a true herb hero."
She quickly found a deep mixing bowl and the right stirring spoons.
An hour later, Hermione was rhythmically stirring a thick white mixture in a figure-eight pattern. Neville watched her every move as if the spoon itself were casting a spell.
"Could you do me a favour and run to Hagrid's? Slughorn and Hagrid will—" She was cut off as the classroom door flew open.
"Miss Granger? Are you here?" Slughorn's voice called.
"In the lab!" she answered.
Slughorn entered, looking pleased. "You should be grateful you've got a half-giant for a friend. Nagini's head was unearthed in no time."
He set two massive, thumb-length fangs on the table. Hermione's eyes lit up.
With precise, almost surgical movements, she drilled into the first fang, hoping to find traces of venom. The snake had been dead for two days—most sources would be dry by now.
Her breath caught when the enamel gave way. Slowly, drop by drop, she coaxed the clear liquid into a small vial. Her hands trembled slightly as she repeated the process with the second fang. She held the vial to the light—barely a milliliter. It would have to be enough.
She mixed the venom into the herbal essence and exhaled deeply.
"It needs six hours to thicken and bind," she told them, sending her helpers away.
Hermione sat for a moment, praying Snape would hold on. But doubt gnawed at her—six hours was a long time. Her gaze wandered over the shelves of phials in Snape's lab. Most were yellowish, with herbs floating inside. A few were toppled, teetering on the edge. Then her eyes locked on a small vial, identical to the one she'd seen beside Snape when she'd found him unconscious.
The label read: Nagini Blood-Regeneration Serum. The stopper was cracked, and the liquid inside had mostly spilled, leaving only a few precious drops. She searched frantically for another vial or a ready-made balm, but the battles had destroyed too much.
She raced to Madam Pomfrey, who met her with a grim face.
"It's time—he's barely conscious."
Panic gripped Hermione. She shoved the damaged vial into Pomfrey's hands, explaining in a rush.
Without hesitation, Pomfrey drew the serum into a syringe and hurried to Snape's room.
Hermione followed on unsteady legs, her vision swimming. Fear t
wisted in her stomach at the thought of what she might find beyond that door.
.
END OF CHAPTER
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