AN: It's been a while since I've done a Snape/Hermione story but this was something that was floating around my head for a while especially since dealing with some medical issues.

Anyone who knows what having panic disorder is like will hopefully sympathize with Hermione in this story.


Hermione was clutching her chest and her eyes were shut tight as she tried to calm her racing heart. Only being 24 years old, she was growing increasingly frustrated at the changes her body was having.

This was the second time it had happened today, and she hated when it occurred at work.

She had been calmly typing away at her desk when suddenly the prickles in her head started, then to confirm what was happening, her fingers started to grow tingly, and it slowly moved all the way up her hands and arms. Fear and dread started to spread throughout her chest and body. She shot up out of her chair and made a hasty retreat to the ladies room, receiving curious glances from her co-workers; especially since she had told them that she was having stomach issued in order to hide the truth.
They would think something was seriously wrong with her, that she was some kind of freak, and a nut that should be put away.

Things were never this bad though, and she was growing increasingly desperate.

As she sat on the toilet, eyes closed and breathing heavily, the tears ran down her face. It had become physically painful, but the scariest part of it was the overwhelming fear that engulfed her every time it happened, she was certain that she would collapse and die one day because of it.

She had been to the doctors, told them desperately about what was happening and that nothing yet was able to help her, but all they did was prescribed medicines that made it worse. There was one night where she woke up abruptly at 2:00am, her heart practically beating in her throat, she had to literally crouch in a fetal position to feel any sort of relief, and there was no hope of falling back asleep because the fear was always there. No matter how hard she tried to push the thoughts away, the fear of it happening again was always there, and that of course made things so much worse. She had fallen asleep watching an old Elizabeth Taylor movie, but 3 hours of sleep was hardly restful.

She called in sick the following day and made an emergency appointment with the Psychiatrist. It was long overdue but maybe she could finally help her get some answers.

As she sat in the sofa, a box of tissues laid out before her, she fidgeted with her hands nervously.

Maybe I am crazy, that damn war.. Ruined my life.

The Doctor came and so the interrogation began.


"Hermione Granger"

"Reason for visiting?"

Hermione described what she had been going through, and the doctor gave her a sympathetic look.

"Tell me Hermione, what bothers you most about this problem?"

She thought about it and chose her words carefully before answering.
"I hate the way this has taken over my life. I'm a young woman, and I want to be healthy again, I hate that I no longer go out with my friends, I hate that I always sit near the exit in case it happens, and I absolutely, positively hate that I'm always living in fear now and worst of all, I can't seem to control it."

"What have you done to try to alleviate the problem?" The doctor asked.

"Well, at first I thought it was anxiety from caffeine so I've cut back on that drastically, then after it happened once after lunch, I cut back on salty-fatty foods. Come to think of it, I've stopped eating almost altogether, it's gotten so bad that I'm literally afraid to do much of anything. My job is suffering from it as I've taken quite a number of sick days, but I have no choice."

"Is your boss understanding of this issue?"

"No, my boss does not know, she thinks I have stomach issues. I don't get along with my boss, my previous one passed away and it's been really hard, he was like a father, and the new one doesn't hold a candle to the replacement. I'm sure that's part of the reason why things have gotten the way they have, she makes my life a living hell, and I've been trying so hard to move to some other place, but I've had no luck, and that only increases my sense of despair."

"Do you live with anyone Hermione?"

Hermione actually felt her heart twist in pain at that question. Her eyes began to water as she nodded no.
Who would want to be with her anyway? Especially with the health issue she was going through? Who would want to stick around for that? There had been someone she loved… Someone she wanted to be with so badly, but it had been a foolish child-like crush, and either way he was dead. Another result of the war, it seemed that everything she had ever loved had been taken from her and the thought only served to depress her even more. It was why she had turned her back to the magical world. It was why she had become a muggle.

Surely if she had stayed, she had no doubt that she could've found some kind of potion that would've healed her current predicament, but at what cost?

She wanted absolutely nothing to do with the magical world ever again.


Hermione was walking towards the pharmacy counter, prescription in hand. The pharmacist took it and then looked her over up and down before logging in the information on to the computer.

"It will be ready in about 10 minutes if you'd like to wait."

Hermione nodded and took a seat, the sadness and despair written all over her face. She had lost hope in all of these medicines, they did nothing but make it worse, but the doctors kept telling her that she had to be patient until they found one that worked with her body.

It was so easy for them to say, they weren't the one's waking up at the butt-crack of dawn feeling like they were at deaths door.

It was then that it started up again as it usually did. When her heart started to beat at a crazy pulse, she rose up out of her seat and walked towards the back of the store. She looked around in absolute dread and everything seemed to dance in front of her as if blurred. She began to pant and clutch her chest and she felt herself double over in order to get some much needed air in her lungs.

That's when she heard him.

That silky voice from her youth… It had finally happened… She had completely lost her mind, he was dead, dead and buried; she had gone to the funeral herself.

She turned around saw the face of Severus Snape as if in a blur.

The last thing she remembered was him saying: "Are you alright?"

That was when everything went black.