A/N: ANOTHER story. Lol. SS/OC, Snape survives, Post-War, blah, blah, blah, I own nothing, blah, blah, ON WITH THE TALE!

-C

The war was over. The Weasley with one ear had agreed to help search the grounds for wounded, to help gather the dead who had been left scattered around after the war ended. He had almost finished the area he had agreed to when he spotted the Shrieking Shack and wondered…

He found Severus Snape bleeding out on the floor, but he had a pulse. It was a faint, erratic pulse, but George knew it was there. Remembering Harry's speech, he took pity on his git of a former professor.

"Hey, Toria!" he called to his former classmate, who was tending to the wounded he found. "We need Healers up here! Snape's still alive!"

"What?" shrieked that familiar voice of Victoria Lane, who was going into her final year of Healer training. The pretty green-eyed redhead rushed into the room, falling to her knees beside the bloody body. "Oh, Merlin. George, go find Hermione Granger. I loaned her some things I'm going to need when she found Lavender Brown had haven't had a chance to get them back. Hurry!"

Victoria began sponging the blood away from the affected area, muttering comforting words to the unconscious man. George brought Hermione back promptly and the two girls worked eagerly to neutralize the venom, heal the wound, clean the blood away. The three of them took him up to the hospital wing, which was practically overflowing with the injured, dying, and recovering.

For three days, Victoria cared for various war injuries, paying special attention to Professor Severus Snape, who remained unconscious despite her best efforts. On the fourth day, George came to visit. She was sitting at Snape's bedside, carefully combing his hair.

"Hey, Toria," said George, sitting down beside her. "Going to take a few hours off tomorrow for the funeral?"

Victoria snorted and said, "What, leave the infirmary without a Healer because of a sham mass funeral for a bunch of people whose names won't even be mentioned? George, I'm so sorry Fred died, and I lost plenty of friends too, but I'm needed here."

"Right," said George with an ironic laugh. "Professor Greaseus Snape absolutely needs you to comb his hair. Toria, what are you going to do if he just doesn't wake up? You said yourself that it could happen. Are you just going to sit here combing his hair every day until one of you dies? You're twenty years old. Don't waste your life on him."

"How dare you?" she hissed. "It's my job to care for all of these patients. Harry even said your ear was an accident. He's as much of a war hero as you or Fred or Tien or anyone else in that battle and he deserves good medical attention!"

"Where were you during the war, sweetheart?" growled George. "Little Miss Half-blood Victoria Lane, never choosing sides, keeping your head down, not standing for anything, letting others die in your place! Is that why you'd rather be at Snape's bedside than my brother's funeral? Because you can relate to his traitorous ways? Or is it your guilt at letting Fred die alone?"

"Get out, George," she seethed, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she continued combing.

"Fred loved you, Toria, and I never understood it, but I respected it. I know he'd want you there–"

"I said get out!" she shrieked, snapping the comb in half, shaking violently. For a moment, there was a heavy pause before George stormed out of the room. Only a moment later, Victoria broke down in tears.

Fifteen minutes later, she had composed herself. Hermione Granger had come up to relieve her for her dinner break. She updated the friend of Harry Potter on the patients and asked if she knew where George was. As soon as she could be there, Victoria was at the roped off section of swamp the twins had created in their famous escape from Hogwarts. George was standing at the bloodstained rope.

"I loved him, George," she said softly. "I loved him so much. But he's gone, and not only am I not ready to deal with that yet, but a mass funeral doesn't feel much like the best way for me to do so. Severus Snape is alive, George, and he needs me. There's nothing I can do for Fred anymore and you have no idea how knowing that breaks my heart, but there's a hospital wing full of people I can help."

"I know that, Toria," George sighed. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. But what are you going to do if he never wakes up?"

Victoria sighed and hugged him.

"Why don't you ask me that again when I'm emotionally stable enough to answer?"

And he led her off to the kitchens for her break and let her cry on his shoulder.

The following day, Victoria showed up for work as if it were any other day, but as she went about her work she watched out the window as hundreds of people gathered by the lake for the mass funeral. She could feel the corners of her vision blur as she turned away from the window and began combing Severus Snape's hair. A few tears fell onto his face and she sighed, brushing them gently away. His eyes flickered open.

"Lily?" he croaked, reaching up with a shaky, weak hand and touching her face.

"N-no," whispered Victoria, but she grasped his hand tenderly.

"I love you, Lily," he sighed. His eyes flickered shut again and his arm fell slack again, but she could feel his pulse when she checked. He was making some kind of progress. Her heart was racing.

For the next few days, Severus Snape did not open his eyes and remained unresponsive, but he did occasionally mutter in his sleep. When he wasn't speaking Victoria spoke to him, hoping it would help him return to full consciousness sooner. A week in George brought Harry Potter and Professor McGonagall up to the hospital wing to check on the progress of the few remaining patients, mostly victims of Fenrir Greyback and his pack. While Professor McGonagall and George were inspecting a sleeping Lavender Brown, Victoria found herself sitting across from Harry Potter as she combed Severus Snape's hair.

"How is he?" he whispered.

"There's been some improvement," she said with a sad smile. "He opened his eyes a few days ago, and he's been mumbling in his sleep. I mean, I don't think he has a clue of where he is or what's going on, but I've been talking to him; maybe it's done some good. I don't know."

"Thank you," said Harry softly. "I thought he was dead. So much was going on and I just left him there to die…. If not for you, I know he would have."

She gave him another sad smile and suddenly Severus Snape sat up, clutching Victoria's shoulders tightly.

"Lily," he croaked at the shocked young girl. "Lily, I'm so sorry. I failed you. I'm so sorry. I love you, Lily, I've always loved you."

Victoria gave Harry a shocked look as the man between them hugged her to him and began pressing desperate kisses on her collarbone and neck. Harry looked as uncomfortable as she felt, although those chapped lips felt surprisingly good against her skin….

"Professor?" said Harry gently, attempting to pry the man off her. "Professor, this isn't Lily. This is Victoria Lane. She was a student of yours. Do you remember her?"

But Severus Snape didn't appear to be listening. He was muttering incoherently as his lips continued to desperately explore every inch of her exposed skin. He bit down softly on her collarbone and she let out a surprised squeal, causing George and Professor McGonagall to turn around.

"Bloody hell, Toria!" cried George. "How long has this been going on?"

"About thirty seconds," she whimpered, trying not to think about the pleasurable sensations shooting through her body.

"He thinks she's my mother," said Harry, wincing. "I'm still trying to decide what about this disturbs me most."

Professor McGonagall and George rushed over to help pry Severus Snape off a very confused Victoria Lane. The boys helped her out of the room while Professor McGonagall went about trying to calm the now-hysterical Severus Snape.

"Has this happened before?" said George.

"Not really," said Victoria, shaking as she clung to George with similar urgency to how her former professor had just clung to her, though without the kissing. "A few days ago he opened his eyes and he called me Lily, but I didn't think he was actually aware of his surroundings."

Harry pulled an old photograph out of his pocket. George and Victoria looked own at it and gasped. Harry's mother had silky auburn hair; Victoria's was more of a dark red. Harry's mother had emerald green eyes; Victoria's were more of a bottle green. Other than that, they could have been looking at a picture of Victoria.

"Merlin," breathed George. "Your mum was hot, Harry."

"George!" hissed Victoria.

"What?" he laughed. "Did you or did you not just get sexually assaulted by Snape?"

"George!" she cried, shaking her head with exasperation. "I have to change the dressing on Lavender Brown's face."

Victoria kissed George on the cheek, waved goodbye to Harry, and went right back into the infirmary. She focused on Lavender, not realizing that there was a pair of black eyes following her every move. Just as she finished her task, a formerly silky baritone voice croaked, "I apologize, Miss Lane, for my behavior."

She turned around and saw Severus Snape watching her with a slightly abashed expression.

"Please, Professor, call me Toria."

She wished he hadn't apologized, because it made her realize that she didn't really mind at all what he had done.

/-/

He watched her the rest of the evening. He couldn't believe he had actually attacked a former student in such a manner. Still, as he watched Victoria Lane go through her duties in the infirmary, Severus found her graceful and tender actions to be incredibly familiar. It was like watching Lily all over again.

"Well," she said with that almost sickeningly-sweet smile, "you can do more things for yourself now. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."

He nodded and continued to watch her go through her various tasks. As the time neared midnight she began to slow, though she did not stop. She carefully combed the hair of each unconscious invalid, telling them meaningless little things in her soft, thoughtful voice.

"Miss Lane, you look exhausted. You should sleep."

"Please, call me Toria. I can't sleep, Professor. I don't like the things I see when I dream and I'm allergic to valerian roots."

"Call me Severus. If you don't mind me asking, what are you dreaming of that makes you rather stay up all night?"

"The war," she said in a soft, forlorn sort of voice that somehow broke his heart.

"Did you fight?" he croaked, horrified at the idea of her angelic little body in the line of fire.

"N-no," she muttered. "My friends are actually a bit upset that I didn't pick a side. But I was scared. I know it makes me a terrible Gryffindor, but I wasn't ready to die." She slumped into the chair next to his bed and bit her lip. "Now I wish I had," she whispered.

"Don't say that," he croaked insistently. "Why would you say that?"

Her pretty green eyes filled with tears.

"He died. Fred Weasley, the man too noble to flee the country and grow old with me, died in the final battle. I didn't go to the funeral. I let him down."

Severus swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing her in a different light.

"I picked the wrong side long ago and effectively turned over the only woman I ever loved to her killer."

"I know," sniffed Victoria. "Harry told everyone before he killed You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort," corrected Severus with a little smirk. He had always wanted to say that. "And I'll have to have a talk with Potter about that. Anyway, when I saw your face, I was sure I had been reunited with her in death. I'm still quite sorry about that."

She shrugged in her sweet little way.

"So we'd both rather be dead?" she giggled through tears. "That's probably one of the most horrifically pathetic things ever."

He shook his head and said, "Well, I suppose we could always help each other."

Her eyes grew wide and she gripped his hand tightly in her two small, delicate hands.

"I can't die, Severus, George would kill me!" He smirked. "You know what I mean! He needs me!"

"Of course he does," said Severus softly, mentally kicking himself for being so bold. "That wasn't at all what I was suggesting, and I understand you would prefer the twin of the man you lost…"

"What?" Victoria gasped, confused. "N-no, George is engaged. Besides, he never even liked me at all."

Why ever not? Severus inwardly frowned, torn between glee that she wasn't spoken for and anger that anyone could possibly not want to worship her.

"I was simply thinking," he plowed on, anxiously filtering every word, "that since we are both alone now, we could keep each other company."

Her pretty green eyes lit up with surprise and she nodded slowly.

"I'd like that," she whispered. "I should get back to work right now, though. I'm going to miss combing your hair," she added thoughtfully.

Severus's eyes grew wide as she walked away and he imagined her precious fingertips dancing along his scalp, teasing his skin gently…. He suppressed a violent shudder. Suddenly, he was wondering if he truly wanted to be dead.

The next morning, Victoria Lane changed bedding and bandages. Severus watched the care with which she went about each task, as though it were her only purpose in life.

"So, Miss Lane," he began.

"Toria," she beamed back.

"You are a Healer now?"

She froze in the middle of pulling the sheets off him and bit her lip.

"Well," she said, "I've got a year of training left, but that's a formality. You learn Healing much more quickly in wartime."

"I can imagine," he whispered. Just then, the door swung open and in walked The Chosen One himself.

"Victoria," said The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Annoying.

"Toria," she corrected.

"George had me look into your situation. He said you'd been living at the hospital since you got word of the raid at your home."

Severus blinked. How long had she been living at work?

"Yes," she muttered, a shame-ridden blush coloring her face. "Do we know what happened now?"

"Well," said The Chosen Potter, "you don't really have a house anymore, or a family from the looks of things."

Severus sneered. Sensitive, Potter, really sensitive.

To his surprise, however, the sad little angel simply nodded and said, "Thanks, Harry, I'll have to figure something else out, then."

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Like-His-Father opened his mouth, as though about to offer her something, but Severus couldn't let this opportunity slide through his fingers.

"She's staying with me," he croaked rather less impressively that it had sounded in his head. Her eyes widened and he panicked, sure she would protest. "How else shall I create a sleeping potion to which you are not allergic?"

Her pretty little lips upturned into a small, soft smile.

"I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble," she whispered.

"None at all," Severus croaked sincerely. "Many people have been left homeless. It would likely be difficult for you to find somewhere else reasonable to stay."

"Well, that seems to be cleared up," muttered a bemused Potter. "George will be disappointed. I believe he was ready to treat you like his brother's widow or something."

Victoria groaned, Potter chuckled, and the boy said his goodbyes, taking leave. Severus watched Potter leave, contemplating him. The boy was walking with, if it were possible, even more confidence than he had before he had defeated the Dark L – Voldemort.

"When was your home attacked?" Severus asked quietly when they were once again alone. He was trying to remember anything he could about Victoria Lane. She was about twenty years old, an excellent Potions student, top of her year in Charms (only because the Weasley twins had never cared about their grades), and had she been a Slytherin she would have been one of his most prized students.

"I don't remember anymore," she sighed. "February? March? It was several months ago, anyway. It's not so bad, staying in the hospital."

"I can't imagine you enjoyed not knowing what happened to your parents."

Victoria shrugged slightly.

"I didn't know what had happened to anyone and I should have made an effort to. Fred offered for me to go into hiding with his family, but I refused. His friends did this underground resistance radio show that I didn't listen to, not even to hear the sound of his voice, because I was scared of getting caught."

He could see a single tear roll down her cheek and his chest felt remarkably tight. She was changing the flowers in the vase beside his bed, and he reached out a trembling hand to touch her arm.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

She began to shake violently with sobs and Severus was concerned that her legs would give out, so he firmly forced her to sit down on the edge of his bed. Victoria surprised him by turning, pressing her face into his chest, clutching his shirt in her shaking fists, and curling her little body against him like a distressed child. He felt a little confused, but he began stroking her hair on impulse. She smelled like vanilla and roses and he found himself leaning forward, drinking in her scent. It was pure and sweet, like her. Her hair was as soft as it looked.

"Did you go to her funeral?" she sniffed, lifting her pretty little face to look at him, her eyes red and puffy, still swimming with tears.

"No," he croaked, feeling the corners of his own vision blur.

"Do you regret it?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling his neck. He bit back a sigh at the sensation.

"Every day," he admitted, running his fingers absently through her silky hair. It took him a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep on top of him. She looked so peaceful and she had been so tired that he didn't have it in him to wake her.

He wasn't sure how long he lay like that, holding her little frame and enjoying her sweet hair, but after a little while the Weasley twin returned. The redhead's face was bewildered as he looked at the pair lying on the hospital cot.

"She hasn't been sleeping," Severus hissed as the Weasley took the seat by the bed. "She was upset and fell asleep from the exertion. She needs the rest."

Weasley nodded and whispered, "I've been too hard on her. I took out all my grief and anger on her when Fred died. I blamed her when I shouldn't have." He sighed. "Harry tells me you're putting her up."

Severus nodded.

"It's the least I can do, with all she has done for me. I owe her my life."

"I never understood what my brother saw in her," muttered Weasley. "She's pretty, but she doesn't have convictions. She'd rather survive than believe in something. I mean, she's supposed to be a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. But… she did the best she could, didn't she?"

Severus nodded, continuing to pet her silky hair. Weasley tried his hand at changing dressings on the other patients before leaving quietly. Victoria slept peacefully through the night.