She had been unable to rush back; she could only pray that she wasn't too late.
She paled to see the Shack; it had collapsed. Calling it the Shrieking Woodpile would be generous.
Firming her jaw, she wriggled under the fallen lintel, stifled her cry at the host of invading splinters. She left a blood trail as she stepped over a heap of spiderwebs.
She skirted around fallen chimney bricks.
Her tears fell. He was there. He was breathing. She knelt by his side, rummaged through her bag for potions and bandages.
Hermione Granger had come to save Severus Snape.
AN: Written for the GS100 challenge 'Under, Over, Around, and Through.'