Ok, here's my new fanfic! This is about a relationship between Hermione and Snape that takes place in her seventh year. In part, this could be considered a book seven, because the war plays a main part in this story. Anyway, if you haven't read HBP, don't read this fic, and it is for the most part non-canon from book 7, though in later chapters some spoilers are thrown in (don't worry, I'll warn you!). I hope you enjoy it! And by the way, these characters are all the wonderful creations of J K Rowling, so the credit goes to her!



He was coming towards her, arms outstretched with a smirk on his face. She didn’t know who it was. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think; she only felt this strange emotion which seemed to cover her until she couldn’t breathe. Suddenly his features came out of the shadows and she knew him--

“Ahhhh!” Hermione jumped up in bed in a cold sweat. Oh, honestly! she thought when she realized that it was yet another dream. Ginny, in the bed beside her, stirred but did not wake since she was used to her friend waking in the middle of the night. Hermione looked at the clock, which said 3:42. She sighed and rolled over, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

This was the third night this week that she had had a dream about Severus Snape. She was becoming very agitated with the fact that she kept having these dreams, not to mention frustrated because she didn’t know why. What’s more- it was the strangest thing- in the dreams he was always approaching her, but she couldn’t tell what emotion she was feeling. She wanted to say that it was fear, but something was eating at her, telling her that it was something else.

Snape! Of all people, really, she thought to herself. Just the thought is disgusting. At least we have only have the year left of school, then I’ll be away from him for good and hopefully I’ll stop having these dreams.

She stared out the window, where a gentle snow was falling. It was the week after Christmas break, but Hermione had stayed at the castle.

She let her thoughts wander to the War. The Order was deep in the middle of the War against Voldemort, and they weren’t getting very far. Harry and Ron had gone to search for the horcruxes, while Hermione and Ginny had stayed at Hogwarts. Technically, they weren’t students anymore, but they had to make it appear that they were. They were members of the Order, and they were to use any resources at the castle to help the leaders of the Order with whatever they needed. They were the investigative members, so to speak, as they could leave Hogwarts at any time to search for any leads they were given from Harry and Ron as to information on Voldemort and his army.

Neither of them wanted the job in the first place, though. Hermione and Ginny had both wanted very strongly to go with Harry, but McGonagall was very serious on the fact that they were needed to do other things, and Ron would be more suited to accompany him. These “other things” she had mentioned were not revealed to them yet; so far they have only been given small and seemingly unimportant jobs. Hermione frankly was beginning to think that she was being purposely kept from doing anything useful, and she was planning on speaking to McGonagall in the morning about this.

Hermione’s eyelids began to droop, and Snape entered her mind once more. Snape had returned about a month after the murder of Dumbledore and had apparently convinced McGonagall in one way or another that he was still trustworthy and could be of use to the Order. He was hiding from the world at Hogwarts, in his dungeons; and of course he wasn’t teaching.

Hermione knew that he had not revealed to anyone anything about that night last year- the night he killed Dumbledore, and if he said anything to McGonagall, her lips were shut tight. Frankly, no one knew what to believe about him; many members of the Order were outraged that he was being allowed back into their inner circle after what he had done (Hermione was one of these), but a select few trusted McGonagall’s decision. At the meetings, no one spoke to him besides Minerva, and he seemed very…. Hermione couldn’t even describe what he was like. He was withdrawn (with good reason, since just about everyone despised him) and as bitter as ever, but there was something else there. Hermione could sense it, at least. There was something soft that was creeping on him- his eyes were sunken and dark as if from countless sleepless nights, and he was pale as if from hunger and poor bodily care. It seemed like he didn’t care what anyone said to him, but at the same time it appeared that he cared so much that he sunk even farther away from the world. He never broke the same dark face he always had though, and Hermione wondered if she was the only one to notice something more.

***

Hermione woke up at seven o’clock, according to her magical alarm. She rolled out of bed and threw her clothes on. After the nights she had been having, she really didn’t care how her hair or makeup looked. She walked over to Ginny’s bed.

“Hey Ginny, wake up,” she pulled the covers off of her. “Come on, we need to go see McGonagall this morning, remember?”

“Jussgimmeeasecon,” was the muffled response from her face flat against the pillow. Hermione laughed at this, because it reminded her of Ron; he used to talk like that when he woke up early. As she was reminiscing, she got a burst of newly-opened anger over the fact that she was not with them. She couldn’t wait to tell McGonagall exactly what she thought.

After several more minutes, Ginny was finally ready to leave the dormitories. By 7:25, they were on their way to the Headmistress office, where McGonagall was currently residing. Ginny was chatting about something that Hermione, frankly, didn’t care much about. Her head was down slightly in concentration; she was thinking of exactly what she would say when they got there. Just as she turned a corner, she was jolted back to reality when she bumped into someone very hard. After the collision, she fell to the ground and the person dropped several papers.

“Oh, sorry, it was my fault,” Hermione looked up into the face of Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall’s nostrils flared slightly, but then she smiled a tight smile. “It’s all right. I needed to talk to you two anyway.” She was red in the face, as if she had just been in a fight with someone.

“Are you ok, Professor?” Ginny asked, noticing her appearance also.

“How many times have I told you to call me Minerva. You are adults and members of the Order now. In fact, that is just what I needed to talk to you about. And, yes, I’m fine,” she replied, but they could tell something had happened. “Come into my office, please. Caramel Clusters.” She motioned toward the door that just opened in front of them. They followed her in and took seats in front of her desk.

As McGonagall went to sit down, she stopped and walked to the window and the door, closing and locking both as if someone were watching them.

“I have received news from Harry and Ron,” she told them as she settled herself in the high Headmistress chair. Immediately Hermione and Ginny both made exclamations of joy, for they had not heard from them yet. McGonagall instantly shushed them.

“Yes, it is exciting, but you must keep your voices down,” Ginny was about to ask why, but thought better of it when she saw the glance McGonagall gave her. “They have destroyed one of the Horcruxes.”

“Which one,” Hermione asked.

“I do not know; they were very brief with their message. Everything is fine, but I now have assignments for the both of you which are of the utmost importance,” she paused and turned to Ginny. “Ginny, they have requested that information be dug up on the events of Voldemort’s childhood. I do not know why, but they want to know everything- where he lived, any relatives or friends that are in hiding, and information on the muggle side of things as to any strange happenings. I am putting you in charge of this, and in 10 days you are to report back to me with your findings.”

Ginny nodded. Hermione inwardly was jealous of her job, for she loved researching; she kept her mouth shut all the same. Next McGonagall turned to her.

“Hermione, I have thought about your assignment for awhile and, questionable as it is, Harry and Ron need you to do it regardless of your own opinions,” she said firmly. What could she possibly have me doing? Hermione shifted in her chair. “Harry has informed me that they will to be entering dangerous places in their search, and their supplies are running low. Also they will need several new supplies that only we can get for them right now.”

“What kind of supplies?”

She handed a list to Hermione, who readily took it. As she glanced at it, her face suddenly fell. These were all antidotes and potions, and extremely complicated ones at that.

“Profess- I mean, Minerva, I only know how to make about two on this list offhand, and there are around 30. How am I supposed to…,” she let her words trail off, for now she understood. Madam Pomfrey will be gone for several months on Order business, so she cannot make the health potions, and the only person left is….

“Yes, I’m aware of the fact that you do not know how to prepare most of these. That is why you must work with Severus,” Hermione gripped the armrest but held her tongue. “I would have him make them all himself, but with the time span we have, it will take two people. Your assignment is to make and bottle all of these in one month’s time. Harry needs them as soon as possible, so as you finish them, you are to give them to me and they will be sent to them. Also, you need to constantly be with Severus, so I have arranged for you to live in his quarters.”

“Live in his quarters!?” Hermione had not outwardly objected until now, but this was too far. “He’s a death eater and you want me to live with him?”

“Miss Granger, sit down this instant.” Hermione didn’t even realize that she had stood up. By calling her Miss Granger, McGonagall was admonishing her for her childlike outburst. “There will be no question of his side in this war. I am certain that he is faithful to the Order, and furthermore-“

“But how can you be sure? That dark mark on his arm seems to say a lot,” Ginny butted in. Hermione knew her to have a temper, and it was starting up.

“Control yourselves, the both of you!” McGonagall’s eyes flashed warningly. “As I said before, Harry and Ron need you to do this regardless of your opinions on the matter. This argument is over and you are to report to his quarters immediately, for he is expecting you.

“I just came back from telling him that you will be assisting him on this assignment, and he was,” she paused, looking for the right words, while her face became heated, “less than pleased. I would not give him another reason to dislike the situation, and that mean keeping all opinions to yourself.” This warning was very terse and straightforward, as if McGonagall already knew that she would say something to aggravate him. Hermione had a guess as to what the “opinions” she mentioned related to, and she knew that an altercation of some sort will be unavoidable, seeing as how they both hate each other.

“Fine, but I don’t even know where he’s living,” Hermione shot back angrily.

“Past his old potion’s classroom, there is a candle on the wall above a bench. Tap the candle three times and his door will appear.”

Hermione nodded curtly, and she and Ginny left her office.



All right, here's chapter one. I have several more chapters completed, but I don't know how fast I'll be able to get them up here. I'm hoping to get chapter 2 up later today or tomorrow. Here's the link to my feedback thread, and I would love it if everyone who reads this would comment on it. I haven't had great feedback for my other fics, and I'm hoping that this one will get it. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2


“Can you believe this?” Hermione said as Ginny closed the door. “I can not believe that she expects me to live with him for an entire month!”

“I know, I know. It’s too bad that you got that assignment,” Ginny replied quietly. She was a good friend to Hermione, and she knew that Hermione would much rather do the research that she was assigned. “I’ll come and visit you and take you out of there as much as I can.”

“Thanks, Gin,” she said. They walked toward the staircase, then went to opposite floors- Ginny to the library and Hermione to the dungeons. “Good luck,” Hermione told her.

“You’ll need it more than I will,” Ginny yelled back. Hermione slowly made her way down the stairs of the great castle and into the dark dungeons where she will be spending the next month of her life. It had been awhile since she had been down here, and she had forgotten how frightening it could be.

Finally she reached the potions classroom door, but her face fell. It was at the end of the corridor, which turned leading to a small area filled with several benches and candles. Hermione wasn’t sure which one to choose. Honestly, she couldn’t have told me which candle it was? She walked up to the first one on the left and tapped it 3 times. Nothing. Ok, wrong one. She moved to the next which, again, didn’t work.

Slightly irritated, she went to the next candle, which she started to tap with her wand. Once, twice…suddenly the bench below it began to morph into a door before she could tap it the third time. Hermione backed up, confused, when the new door opened, revealing Snape exiting his quarters.

“Is it really that difficult to tap a candle three times?” he spat at her.

“Yes in fact, when you don’t know which-“ she snapped back, but he shushed her before she could finish. He had his hand held up, and Hermione could tell that he was listening intently to something. She couldn’t hear anything, and she started to turn around when someone started to turn the corner of the hallway. She felt Snape grab her by the waist and pull her into his room, transforming the door back to a bench on the way.

He released her, and with the sudden stop of movement she stumbled to the floor for the second time in a half hour. She didn’t like anyone grabbing her like that; she immediately got up and smoothed her clothing out. “What did you do that for?”

He stared at her, incredulous of her stupidity. “No one knows I am here except for Order members. If someone saw me…you can imagine the consequences. The outside world wants me sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss, and I’m not going to risk that because you couldn’t find the right door,” he said testily. Hermione stared hard at him, locking his gaze.

“You must be careful leaving and coming here. I will not stand for blatant disregard for my safety on your account,” he finished. The fierceness in his voice made Hermione drop her eyes from his. She was angry with him, but she was rather frightened of him at the same time. She didn’t trust him, and they were completely alone. She looked around the room for the first time.

It was dark and dreary; everything was either black or green and only the necessary living things were here. There were no windows, only candles that flickered harshly. There was a couch and two chairs in front of them. On the far wall was a large bookcase filled with potion and dark arts books. In the corner, Hermione presumed, was where their task would be done. There was a large table with a sink and several cauldrons on it. Other than that, the only things in the room were 4 doors on either side of them, not counting the door they had entered and a fireplace.

Snape saw her observing the room. “Listen to me carefully, for I will only repeat this once. The door on the right leads to the bathroom. You may shower in the morning, and it is mine at night. You are only to use the fireplace with floo powder if I tell you to. The door beside the cauldrons is where all the potion ingredients are kept, and you will only enter it if I tell you to get something. The door on the left is my room, which you are not to enter, and the last door is where you will sleep. Our rooms are connected, but I do not want you calling on me in the night for anything less than the Dark Lord himself trying to kill you. You may do what you like with your room, for I will be of no need of it once you are gone.”

The tone of his voice informed Hermione that he didn’t like the fact that she will be living with him. The moment was very awkward, for neither of them wanted the other to be there. Hermione stared at the floor, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t accusatory and would in turn make her stay even worse.

“So…uh, should we start?” she asked.

He had not been looking at her, and his eyes snapped to hers. It seemed like he had been at a different place and time in his mind. “Before we start, we need to discuss something like adults and I don’t want any interruptions,” his voice was harsh, but not mean. He held out his hand, motioning her to take a seat. She did, and then stared at him who chose not to sit.

“I know you question my loyalty to the Order, and I honestly don’t care what your opinions of me are. I don’t care what anyone thinks. But while you are here you are not to question my motives or allegiances at all. Will that be a problem?” He said the last sentence with force, as if daring her to say yes. He did not need to mention what motives he was talking about – she knew.

As for a reply, Hermione didn’t know what to do. She knew that it would be a problem, but she couldn’t say yes. She again stared at the floor, then up at him, trying to make him see her difficulty. He made no motion at all, so she simply shook her head in a feeble defeat.

“Good. And yes, we are to start now.”

They moved over to the table with the cauldrons on it. “I realize that you are fairly incompetent in potion making, so you will only do what I ask you to,” he sneered. She knew he was trying to make her angry, and she did not want to give him a reaction to work off of. Hermione looked at him with a calm face and awaited orders. “I will be making the Draught of the Living Death first; like several others, it takes a full moon cycle. Go into the storage room and get me the ingredients on the third shelf up directly to the right.”

Hermione did not hesitate, but she found it extremely aggravating that he didn’t want her to help. I’m top of my class in potions, quite frankly, and I won’t just hand him bottles all month long, she resolved. She opened the door of the room and gasped. It was completely full to bursting with ingredients of all sorts. The shelves were stacked around 20 high, and every one was labeled with a different potion. Apparently Snape has some time on his hands if he could make a shelf for every potion we’ll be making. Then it occurred to Hermione that he must have been sitting in his room every day with almost nothing to do. With a momentary lapse of thought, she took pity on him, for if she was alone in the dungeons for days on end she would surely go mad.

“Don’t bother hurrying, I’m sure Potter doesn’t need this very much,” Snape drawled sarcastically from the room. Hermione snapped back to her normal thoughts, and the anger filled her once more. She grabbed the 7 bottles he had requested and laid them on the table. Suddenly she remembered something she had forgot about long ago, that first potion lesson. “What do I get when I combine root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?”… Hermione knew the answer, the Draught of Living Death, if only he would call on her! …She thought it was ironic that the first potion he mentioned in their class was the first one they would make here. She watched as he put each ingredient (including the root of asphodel and the infusion of wormwood) in separately, stirring it clockwise here, counterclockwise there, cutting things exactly, and all from memory.

Hermione was fascinated with the art of potion making which made it even worse that she could only watch. She leaned back against the wall in utter boredom as he did the last step, then pick the cauldron up and put it in the corner of the room.

“Now it needs to sit for the entire moon cycle, then I will finish it. It is crucial that you do not go near it, for it has dangerous properties in this stage,” he said. He conjured a towel, wiped his hands on it, and then made it disappear with a flick of his wand.

The entire process of Snape sending her for ingredients, preparing a potion, and then setting it in the corner cycled 3 more times with the Dreamless Sleep potion, Healing Tonic, and the Empathy Elixir (by this last time, she had gotten too close to the elixir and inhaled a large dose of the fumes, at which point Snape pulled her away as if she was a small child, further irritating her). Hermione was annoyed, yet her love of potions began to overpower the annoyance. She never noticed how smooth Snape was with his movements, and how beautifully he prepared potions. I guess I was too busy hating him with Harry and Ron to realize that he could really teach me something about this subject.

Snape then went to sit down in his chair, interrupting her thoughts. She looked at the black clock on the wall, which said that it was 11:50. Unsure of what to do, she sat down on the couch across from him.

She wanted to ask him if she could help the next time, but then she noticed that his eyes were closed. There’s no way he could have fallen asleep so soon. Awkward second after awkward second passed, and she began to think more about this. What if he isn’t letting me help because he’s doing something wrong with the potions on purpose? That would make sense, because it could be jeopardizing the health of Harry or Ron and then the hunt for Voldemort’s horcruxes would stop. I’ll bet that’s just what he wants. Hermione thought that this was a fair possibility, and she couldn’t let it happen.

“Er…Professor?” she asked.

“Hmm?” was the reply. It was not angry, exasperated, or sneering, but tired. His eyes opened and turned to her. She noticed for the first time bags under his deep eyes.

“Er…I was just wondering if I could do something a little more…helpful the next time we prepare a potion,” she asked. She knew if she didn’t ask him now, she may never get this chance while he seemed to be in a fair mood.

“That depends if you can follow my directions precisely. We cannot afford to have mistakes… or for you to be inhaling every one that we make,” he replied quietly. She couldn’t tell if it was an accusation of her past actions or a joke, for he said it indifferently. Nonetheless, Hermione decided that this meant she could help. He began to speak again. “And you are no longer a pupil, nor I a teacher, so there is no need to call me professor. ‘Sir’ will suffice.”

Hermione nodded curtly and sat back on the couch. She was more confused than ever now, because if he wanted to harm Harry and Ron, he wouldn’t have agreed to let her assist with the potions. And why was he suddenly calm and tired, as if nothing happened at all?

Her stomach growled very loudly, rousing Snape from whatever daydream he was in. He glanced at her, irritated by the bodily function she had no control over.

“I take it you are hungry for lunch?” he drawled.

“Er, yes…Sir,” she replied with an emphasis on the sir.

He waved his wand and one meal appeared in front of him. “I also take it that you would probably like to eat in the Great Hall with the Weasley girl?”

“Well, can’t you…oh,” then it occurred to her, that he had conjured his own lunch for a reason. He certainly cannot just waltz into the Great Hall for food and expect not to be seen. He must eat every single meal alone. Hermione was filled with a sudden compassion for this very lonely man. “Er, I suppose I’ll eat here today, that way we can start again right after we eat.” She had been searching for any excuse but the truth – that she felt sorry for him.

”I don’t want your pity,” he spat, his teeth bared. Apparently he saw through her lie. He conjured another meal, nonetheless. There was a roast beef sandwich, potatoes, green peas, and fresh pumpkin juice laid out in front of her.

Without any explanation, Snape simply picked up his meal, carried it into his room, and shut the door. Hermione’s mouth dropped. Pity? I don’t pity him! She didn’t understand why he had reacted like that. Trying to forget about it for the moment, she began to eat her lunch, which didn’t taste very good. After about 15 minutes, she cleared her dishes and at the same time Snape exited his room.

“Thank you,” she said simply. He said nothing, but motioned for her to come over to the bookshelf.

“If you want to help, then take this book,” he had picked out a book (Simple Survival Potions for the Adventurous Wizard, by Holly Hopgrove) and handed it to her. His voice was very controlled, like he was trying not to yell, “and study the first three potions in your room. I have some things I need to do. Do not come out until I call for you.” The directions were curt, which was the only thing Snape was sure to be, but Hermione couldn’t help wondering what it was that Snape wanted to do. There’s no telling how long she could be in her room, so she asked,

“Can I look at some other books while I’m in there?”

Snape raised his eyebrows slightly, then repositioned them. “If you wish,” was the only answer, and he swept his arm across the air in front of the bookcase, asking her to pick them.

She looked at the beautiful bindings and picked Concoctions for the Bold at Heart, 1,000 Beneficial Brews, and Elixirs Through History. She turned and walked into her room, closing the door behind her. The last thing she saw was Snape standing there staring at her, waiting for her to shut her door.

Turning around, she was met by a very blank room. There was a bed with one pillow, dresser, mirror, and desk with no chair, all in different corners. Directly to her left was the door connecting her and Snape’s bedroom, which at that moment she swore never to enter. Everything was black, basically, and there was only one candle in the room. Well, he sure went all-out for my accommodations, she thought sarcastically. This black has got to go.

Using her magic, she changed everything from black to brilliant gold and red, and she added several more candles, one of the charmed windows that makes it appear like its looking outside (even though she was in the dungeons¬), a chair with a large cushion at her desk, a large mirror, and multiple soft, huge pillows on her bed. Now this looks like a room.

Lying down her three chosen books on the bed, she opened Simple Survival Potions for the Adventurous Wizard and began to read. After about thirty minutes of studying the makings of the potions he had told her, currently the Self-Protection Potion, her curiosity got the better of her. Closing the book, she tip-toed over to the door. She knew she couldn’t open it a crack, so she simply looked through the key hole. From what she could see, Snape was pacing the room with a vial full of liquid in his hand. It was fluorescent green, and blue mist was seeping through the cork and diffusing into the air. Hermione had never seen a liquid of any sort like this before. Apparently Snape was trying to decide something about it, because he would pace, stop, stare at it, shake his head, then repeat. When he gripped his left forearm, Hermione got a strange feeling like she was going to be seen.

Hermione moved to get away from the door when her head hit painfully off of the doorknob. She saw him let go of his arm and turn his head towards her, and she scrambled over to her desk, just sitting down with the open book when he walked in. She tried to appear as normal as possible, but her head was throbbing.

“What were you doing?” he asked her coldly.

“Studying the Self-Protection Potion at the moment. Why, what else should I be doing?” she replied with a smooth tone.

“Then what was that noise?” she knew he didn’t believe her.

“Er,” she thought fast, “I didn’t perform the spell of conjuring these candles very well, and the handle of the one above the desk fell…and hit me.” She added the last part in case he saw the bump she knew must be protruding from the top of her head.

He looked around the room, as if first noticing her redecoration. “Well,” his tone was like ice, “as you perform spells recklessly and carelessly, it was apparent that it would soon become obvious to you, and not just those around you.” At this rude remark, she met his eyes and immediately felt a strange sensation in her mind. He’s using Legilimency on me, she knew it because she had read so much about it. Fortunately, in their fifth year, she had read up on Occlumency as well when Snape was trying to teach Harry, so she felt she could do it well. She closed her mind to Snape’s protruding one, and managed to keep him from entering it.

He took his gaze from hers, then raised his eyebrows with surprise. “Who taught you Occlumency?” he questioned her.

“I taught myself,” she replied. She knew that she had impressed him, but he did not say anything more. He turned and left the room, locking the door and charming the key hole shut as he went. Hermione inwardly laughed at this, then turned her eyes to the other books on the bed.

A thought came to her. If I can look through these books and find a potion that looks fluorescent green with blue mist when it is finished, I might be able to figure out what Snape’s up to. Involuntarily looking at the door to make sure he wasn’t coming again, she jumped on her bed and began flipping through the books for anything that resembled what she had seen him carrying. After looking at every single page, racking her brain, and wasting an hour and a half, she came to the conclusion that it was in none of these books, nor in any book she had read; it must be related to the Dark Arts. What could it be? This is driving me mad!



There's Chapter 2! All right, I will be away next week, so there won't be any more updates until then, that's why I tried to make this one longer. I migth be able to squeeze in enough time tomorrow morning to post Chapter 3, but I'm not making promises. Here's the feedback thread. Please leave me some replies; I love to hear from you. Thanks!

Chapter 3

Hermione was bored beyond words. As she looked at the clock she conjured, she sighed deeply. It was 6:30. Snape had kept her in her room for hours, and she couldn’t take it any longer. She pulled out her wand and started to unlock the door.

“Aloham – “ before she could finish, Snape opened the door from the other side. He smirked at her escape attempt.

“Eager to come out, are we?” he seemed to like the fact that he had had control over her for the past 6 hours.

“Well, six hours in there, honestly!” she was fuming. He raised one eyebrow and breathed out in an exasperated way. Oh, I get it. He was telling her what it’s like for him. He’s been in here for days and days all locked up like she was most of the day, but it’s a thousand times worse for him for a couple reasons: 1- only a few people even know he’s here at all and 2- almost everyone that knows he’s here hates him. Deep down she felt sorry for him, but other than that it was the same strong dislike that she had felt since she was a first year, but even more so.

“You forgot to bring your things when you came this morning,” he drawled, ignoring her comment. “Go and get them. If you take to long, I’ll signal you, and you must return immediately.”

Hermione looked up at him, puzzled. “How are you going to signal for me?”

Snape got out his wand. He lifted her right arm and touched the tip of his wand to the back of her hand. Hermione stared at it, because nothing had happened.

“What did you do?” she asked. By now she was genuinely interested.

He rolled his eyes lazily at her. “It’s just a light Connection Charm. You are now connected to me, and it will burn when you are to come.” He looked at her still confused face. “Oh, surely you have heard of a Connection Charm? Well, no you probably haven’t, seeing as how you surround yourself with books of unquestionable nature.” By the way he stressed the unquestionable nature, Hermione figured that he thought she didn’t look at any books that deal with the Dark Arts. She hated it when people thought she was a goody-two-shoes, and Snape was certainly no exception.

“You’re lucky I’m only giving you the light version,” Snape added, ignoring her look of defiance. When he said this, there was something vicious in his voice. “Now, go get your things.”

As she turned to leave, she could have sworn that he grabbed his Dark Mark again, but it was so fast that she couldn’t be sure. She left his quarters and went out into the corridor. She instantly noticed fresher air; the air in his room was stale and stuffy. On her way to Gryffindor tower, Hermione passed the Great Hall and spotted Ginny eating dinner. Taking a little side trip, Hermione went over to her friend.

“So how’s the research going?” she asked her. Ginny immediately turned around and smiled.

“Oh, hey! It’s slow, but progressing. How are you doing?” her first reaction of happiness turned to anxiousness as she questioned Hermione.

“Oh, er, it’s all right. I’d rather be with you, but nothing’s really happened except for the fact that he locked me in my room for 6 hours.”

“Six hours!” Ginny gasped loudly. McGonagall at the head table shot them a glance, which they received and lowered their voices. “What a git!” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “Speaking of which, I have to get my things and go back immediately, or he will ‘summon’ me. So I’d better be going.”

“Summon like the coins we used in the DA?” Ginny asked her as she turned to leave.

“No, he touched my hand and used a ‘Connecting Charm’. I’ll have to read up on it. Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

Hermione waved as she left the Great Hall. Climbing stair after stair, she finally reached her dormitory. Reaching under her four-poster bed, she pulled out her trunk full of clothes. Suddenly her hand burned white-hot, so hot that she felt her skin must certainly melt away. Ginny’s right – what a git; he couldn’t give me a full 10 minutes at least, she thought as she conjured ice, but the sensation didn’t stop.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled her trunk out the portrait hole and began walking as fast as she could to the dungeons. When she finally reached it, she whipped out her wand, tapped the candle three times, then fell in the door. The pain instantly stopped. Her jaw set, she turned to look at Snape releasing his wand from his hand.

“My, my, you are slow. Time is precious, do not waste it when you are summoned,” he said softly, the side of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

Hermione could not believe the man in front of her. I cannot be summoned like an animal, she longed to shout, but she remembered McGonagall’s warning and held her tongue. Then yet another realization hit her. This must be what it feels like to be summoned by Voldemort, only that would be much worse. Hermione wasn’t sure if Snape was doing these things to give her insight into his life, or if she was overanalyzing everything he did. Either way, she didn’t like it much, and she wished he would simply let her help with potions like she was sent here to do and that would be the end of it. Of course it can’t be that easy, she thought sarcastically. He is angry that McGonagall didn’t think he could handle it by himself, and he’s taking it out on me. Like I would even be here if I had a choice!

“Put those in your room, and then we must make another potion.” Hermione obeyed without comment. It was proving very difficult to keep all her thoughts to herself, and she had a feeling that soon there was going to be an outburst.

She returned after laying her trunk on the bed, and they walked over to the cauldrons. “You wanted to make a potion, and now is your only chance to prove yourself. Make the Self-Protection Potion.”

She looked up at him confused. “Now?” she asked.

“No, we shall wait until Potter is dead to make it – yes now!” he sneered. “And do it from memory.”

Hermione knew that she knew how to do it; it was just the situation that made her uncomfortable. He was looming over her, just waiting for her to make a mistake. She began silently, trying to remember everything that she had read.

Add 3 slices…crush into fine pieces, stir 13 times…counterclockwise or clockwise? She couldn’t remember which way to stir the potion, and it can make all the difference. Up to this point she had done everything perfectly, so she risked asking him.

“Er, Sir, do I stir this clockwise or counterclockwise?” asked Hermione carefully.

He paused, then said, “You tell me.” He smirked, then waited for her to continue.

She didn’t have the faintest guess which was correct, so she chanced counterclockwise. It suddenly turned the pale shade of yellow that she had seen in the book. Yes!

”I’m finished, Sir.”

He walked over to it, poured more than half of it into a large vial, then looked at it. “Satisfactory,” he said disapprovingly, as if he had been hoping she would mess up. Hermione was beaming. “Floo to McGonagall’s office and give her this.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to have a fireplace here? Can’t someone get here by flooing?” asked Hermione curiously.

Snape sighed obviously, which gave her the feeling that he once again thought she was stupid. “This room was not made until I started living here, so accommodations were made. We can floo to other fireplaces, but no one can floo here. McGonagall has lifted the Apparating charm, so that I can Apparate out of this room, but to come back I must Apparate outside the school grounds then walk back with a Disillusionment Charm…which is very inconvenient,” he added at the end. “You may go now.”

Hermione didn’t understand why he couldn’t simply Apparate back into the room. Obviously, he had to Apparate out if he was summoned by Voldemort, and he can’t waste any time if that happens, but what if something happened where he had to come right back? She didn’t voice her opinions, but simply nodded.

She followed his orders; Hermione grabbed the vial and a handful of floo powder from the mantle, stepped into the fire and said “Headmistress office!” clearly. The rush of green flames surrounded her, and in several seconds she found herself in McGonagall’s office. As she looked around, she realized that McGonagall wasn’t there at the moment. She put the vial on her desk and poked around for a spare bit of parchment, on which she wrote, “The Self-Protection Potion. We just finished it today, making good progress, signed Hermione.” As she turned around to floo back, she noticed an envelope that had been moved when she pulled the blank parchment from a pile of papers.

She started to put it back, but then she saw the address – it was to her! Slightly confused, she saw that the seal was already open. Why would McGonagall read a letter addressed to me? Hermione pulled the letter out and looked at the signature; she gasped. It was from Harry and Ron! At first she was happy, but then angry as she thought about it. Why hadn’t it been given to her?

Hermione just started to read the letter when she heard distant footsteps coming toward the office. Frightened, she stuffed the letter back into the envelope and back where it had been. She ran into the fireplace with floo powder in hand when she realized that no one could floo back to Snape’s room! Oh, I can’t STAND that man! He didn’t even stop me when I was so stupid as to completely floo here; he knew I would have to walk back, the git. There was no where to hide, so she grabbed the vial, put the note in her pocket and simply sat down in a chair, trying to look casual.

The door opened and McGonagall entered. When she turned around, she gave a little jump when she saw Hermione.

“Oh, Hermione! How did you get here?” she asked, her face pink with surprise.

“I flooed here. I, er, I just wanted to give you the first potion we finished, the Self-Protection Potion.” Hermione handed it to her. Then a thought came to her, and she went with it. “Um, Prof- I mean, Minerva, I was just wondering if Harry and Ron have sent any more mail. I’m just dying to hear from them directly, and they said they would send me something.”

McGonagall chose to stare at the potion for a full ten seconds before saying, “Oh, I’m afraid not. They must be very careful with their letters, as the owls are being watched. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t send any more for a long while, so as not to arouse suspicion.” She took a seat behind her desk and placed the hand on the stack of papers that Hermione new contained the very letter she was choosing to lie about. “Will that be all?” Her smile made Hermione wonder what was so significant that it needed hidden.

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione turned and left before McGonagall could take a second glance at her. I can not BELIEVE she would lie to my face like that! There must be something important in that letter. She made her way down the stairs towards the first floor corridor, when she spotted Ginny once more. I think I have a plan that will make it easy for me to get that letter.



There's chapter 3. I have until the end of this week to post as much as I can, because I will be gone for almost 2 weeks. But don't worry, I'll be writing this the whole time. Here's my feedback thread. Please comment! Until next post...

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 4

“Hey, Hermione, back so soon?” Ginny stopped her as they passed.

“Snape made me give something to McGonagall. Do you have a second? I have to tell you something,” Hermione replied. Ginny nodded eagerly, and they moved to the side of the hall behind a statue of Octivon the Ogre.

“I went to McGonagall’s office, and she wasn’t there, so I went over to her desk and guess what I found. There was a letter there addressed to me from Harry and Ron that she opened!” Ginny’s mouth dropped.

“She never said it was addressed to you!” she commented.

“I know, and when she came back I asked her if they had sent any more mail because they said they would send me something. She actually said no! Then she walked over to her desk and put her hand right where the letter was. Can you believe that?”

“No! So what are you going to do about it?” Ginny’s voice hinted that she wanted to be involved.

“I think I know. At about eleven tomorrow, can you go to her office and tell her something to get her out of there? Anything to get her far enough away that I can run in and get the letter and whatever else she might be hiding from us.”

“Sure, but where will you be?”

Hermione wasn’t sure yet. “I don’t know, but I’ll be around close enough to get in. Hey, I have to go, but I’ll see you at eleven.” They waved goodbye, and Hermione made her way back down to the dungeons for the second time in an hour. She did the correct procedure to make the door appear, and she stepped inside, her anger for Snape back once more.

He was sitting on the chair in front of her, smirking horribly. “Why didn’t you stop me?” she asked immediately.

He arranged his voice as silky as he could make it. “Only someone completely incompetent would have ignored what I just told you about this fireplace, so you could say that I was too amazed at your stupidity to stop you. I thought you would have stuck your head in the fire to see if Minerva was there, and then handed it to her if she was. Is that the obvious thing to do, or am I overreaching?”

Hermione did not want him to feel like he won in this, so she blurted out, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t stop me anyway.” Immediately she wished she hadn’t said that. She didn’t want him to know about the letter.

He raised one eyebrow. “Oh, really? May I ask why?” The way he said it made it very clear that he didn’t care if she wanted to tell him or not.

“Er, I got to talk to Ginny for a little bit, and McGonagall also. In fact, I’m supposed to go back tomorrow at…a quarter to eleven.” Technically she wasn’t lying. Once again she felt the strange sensation of Legilimency being used on her, but she instantly closed her mind. After about 3 seconds, Snape let go of her mind and stared angrily at her.

“You know, sir, it would be greatly appreciated if you asked my permission before you try to pry into my brain. It’s very rude; otherwise I will keep blocking you,” Hermione calmly said. At this statement, Snape raised both his eyebrows, then lowered them with apparent irritation. He did not have a comeback, which made Hermione make a mental note that she had won this argument.

“Oh, sir? Could you do something for me?” Hermione suddenly asked. She hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out before she got a chance to stop herself. Now that she had said it, Hermione hoped that Snape would agree to her request. That would be unlikely, though, since I chose the single worst moment to ask him this.

At her question, Snape stared at her questioningly. It was obvious that he had never dealt with someone like Hermione one-on-one, and he wasn’t too pleased about it. This noticeable on his face, he replied, “What.” It was not a question; it was a word that showed he probably wouldn’t do what she wanted.

“Well,” Hermione pushed on, “I was wondering if you could possibly…teach me Legilimency.” There was a pause in which Snape said nothing, so Hermione kept on talking out of nervousness. “I know I was just rather straightforward with you before, and I don’t expect you to agree to teach me, but I just think it would be a good idea since I’m part of the Order now. I learned Occlumency by myself, but Legilimency is much harder to learn. I am a fast learner, but I still need a good teacher – which I’m sure you’d be.”

She wanted to butter him up as much as she could without being obvious, and that last phrase seemed to have hit some kind of mark. Snape’s face was complete surprise, for he had not had anyone compliment him in a very long time. He stared into Hermione’s most innocent-looking face, then looked to the side.

“I suppose…that Legilimency would be a beneficial thing for you, but if you want to learn you must prove yourself to be completely responsible and mature. Legilimency is not a toy, and I will expect a completely controlled student. If you show yourself to be immature, I will not teach you, and if you misuse it, I will stop,” he replied in a sharp tone, to show that he was serious.

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “So you will teach me, then?” she asked, he did not reply, which seemed to mean yes. “Oh, thank you, sir!”

“Now, it’s 7:30, and I expect you are hungry again,” said Snape after a pause in a completely different voice, like it was a hindrance to feed her. She felt her stomach growl as she realized that she was indeed hungry.

He conjured another meal for her on the table, then went to go into the bathroom. “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked him before he entered it.

He turned around. “I have learned to eat only when necessary, and you would do well to do the same while you are here. I will be going to bed in several hours, and I don’t want you out in this room. You will go to your room at 10:00, and not exit it until 7:00, when you may shower.” He walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

“I have learned to eat only when necessary, and you would do well to do the same while you are here.” What on earth does that mean? Hermione thought his orders were unnecessarily strict, and she planned on ignoring them. She heard the shower turn on, and decided to put the letters out of her mind for the moment. She took the chance to look at some books to find out what that potion was she had seen him with earlier, all the while with a smile on her face; Hermione was so surprised and delighted that Snape consented to teach her.

As she was looking at the bindings, a thought came to her. She pulled out A Guide to Becoming a Dark Leader, and ran her finger down the index. Ha! The Connection Charm! She flipped to the correct page and read what it said.

“The Connection Charm is a simple but very effective spell that will connect you to one or hundreds of other people. When you touch your wand to another person’s body and perform the incantation below, you will instantly have a mental connection. This is mostly used for summoning (for example, if you wish to call someone to you, the part of the body you touched your wand to will burn). There are many different ways this charm can be applied, from using an image or words on the skin to creating a stronger mental connection [WARNING: in some cases, side effects have occurred]. The full list of uses is on page 263…”

Hermione fought the urge to look at page 263, as she realized that she didn’t know how long Snape would be in the bathroom. She put the book back in its place and began to quickly search for the mysterious potion. She got lucky, because it was in the second book she tried (Dark Drafts for the Deceitful at Heart ). As she skimmed the pages, she finally found its picture and read through the description.

“The Draught of Discovery is a very highly regarded potion in the Dark Arts, if only for the sole reason that it has never failed. This potion, when the correct spell is cast upon it, will let the drinker know where a person of threat to them is hiding. For example, in the well-known case of Devin the Devious (1121-1225), Devin used this potion to search for his enemy in hiding (Sir Seth the Steadfast) and managed to kill him [authors note: this incident caused the outlaw of the Draught of Discovery in 1167, and the brewer may prepare this at his own risk of arrest]. Over the past 10 years, it has been unable to be produced because of a shortage of the supply of crushed barbolla bone, a necessary ingredient, to ensure that it may not be used by the Dark Lord. Only a skilled potion master can prepare this potion, as it is extremely complex. The ingredients and instructions are listed below…”

Hermione stopped reading, her mind racing. She checked the date of the book, and sure enough, it was in print when Voldemort was at large some 20 years ago. She knew that crushed barbolla bone was very rare (since the barbolla is very difficult to find). It had not been sold to the public for the years that Voldemort was in hiding. Even if they had discontinued selling it because of Voldemort, Hermione had a feeling that Snape would probably have some from one source or another with his other ingredients. Well, of course he has it, because he made the potion!

Hermione could feel the gears of her brain fitting it all together. Snape obviously goes to Death Eater meetings, and when she had seen him with the potion, he had clutched his left forearm – where his Dark Mark was. What if…what if Voldemort told Snape to make this potion for him so that he could find Harry and Ron, who are destroying the horcruxes and indeed a threat to him? What if he wanted to use it to keep a location on Harry, his ultimate enemy planning on killing him in the end? AND SNAPE ACTUALLY MADE IT! She was fuming. It all made sense now. But then why didn’t he just give it to Voldemort already? Why did he just pace around with it?

While Hermione was thinking, Snape opened the bathroom door. She quickly hid the book under the cushion of the chair. He was wearing a silk robe, obviously for sleep, and he walked quickly to his room, not looking at her as he went. “Be in your room in five minutes – no more,” he drawled as he shut the door behind him.

It’s a good thing he didn’t look at her, because if he did she was sure that she would have snapped. Hermione knew that that potion was the Draught of Discovery, illegal if anything else, and Snape the Death Eater was traipsing around with it! Incredulous and infuriated with the man who just left her view, she pulled the book out from the cushion. She put it back on the shelf (she memorized its spot in the bookcase in case she wanted to see it again), ran into her room, slammed the door shut and fell onto her bed. Ok, so I know what is happening, but what do I do about it? Should I steal it or should I confront him? Unsurprisingly, Hermione fell quickly into a very uneasy sleep.



Ok, this one was a little shorter, only because the next chapter is probably one of the most important chapters. I hope to have chapter 5 posted before I leave so you all can think about it while you wait for chapter 6. Here's the feedback thread, and I hope you'll leave me some comments!

*drhpluvr4l

**In the dream sequence of this chapter, I tried to piece everything together based on the different accounts from several chapters of the HBP. I think it’s about right, but if it’s not, please don’t criticize! Also, I had to quote some parts from the books, so as usual, all the credit does to JKR**

Chapter 5


She felt herself turn over in bed, so Hermione knew that she must be dreaming – but it was the realest dream she had ever had. She was in a sort of flashback, back to that… that horrible night. She was herself in the dream, but she couldn’t stop it or control what she said – it was all exactly what she had said and done before….

Hermione and Luna were standing outside Snape’s office and nothing was happening. Everything was as it should be, but there was uneasy feeling in the air. She was worried for Harry, who was in search of the Horcrux with Dumbledore, especially because he left the Felix Felicis with them. The more she thought about it, the more scared she became that maybe Harry was right, maybe Malfoy is going to try an attack tonight. Nevertheless, they were doing what he had told them- patrolling the halls, but this way they could be sure Snape didn’t have any surprises coming. Midnight was approaching, and just as Hermione leaned her head against the wall to take a rest, Professor Flitwick sprinted into the dungeons.

“Severus, the Death Eaters - they’re here! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” he screamed as he passed without noticing them. Shocked and scared, she and Luna turned and watched as he burst into Snape’s office. They listened at the door to hear what was being said.

“Oh, Severus, the Death Eaters are here! You must come back up with me and help the Order. Hurry, there’s not much time!”

Silence…then…

THUMP

The girls wished they could have seen what was happening inside, when suddenly Snape hurtled out of his room and saw them. He could not have looked more surprised or unkempt, to say the least. His hair was matted in some places and sticking up in others, his face was pale, eyes bloodshot and wide at the sight of Hermione and Luna there.

“Is it true Professor? Are the Death Eaters here?” Luna asked him tentatively.

“Apparently,” he said in a terse voice, “Flitwick collapsed in my office. Go and take care of him; I’m going upstairs to help fight.” With that he had started running down the corridor and was gone.

“Professor Flitwick?” Hermione called as they stepped into the room. “Are you all right?” In front of a chair they spotted him, lying unconscious on the floor. “He must have passed out.”

“Or he may have been attacked by the Golkitoads. They hide under chairs and-”

“Not now Luna, we should move him out of here….”

The scene changed to something Hermione had not seen before. Instantly she knew what it was. She was running towards the Great Hall, but she wasn’t in her own body. With horror she recognized who she was inside. Greasy black hair surrounded her face and the black robes around her billowed as she ran- she was in Snape’s body.

Thoughts that weren’t her own pushed into her mind, and she realized that they must have been Snape’s thoughts:

This is it, no backing down. It must be done.

He – she rather – stormed up the stairs and into the battle. She felt him pull out his wand and run through the cursed barrier. Something tingled on her left arm – the Dark Mark. Then the scene opened up to her, and her, or his, eyes widened with the pressure she suddenly felt in her mind. It was not physical, but mental, as if Snape was having a slight panic, but that soon passed. She felt as his eyes swept the room, from the four Death Eaters including Greyback, to Draco, and finally landing on Dumbledore against the wall.

“We have a problem, Snape,” said the Death Eater beside her, “the boy doesn’t seem able –“

He was interrupted by another voice, a pleading voice that Hermione had never heard like that before. “Severus…,” Dumbledore said quietly. She never knew that he had pleaded for life; she thought that Snape had simply killed him. She wanted to cry, but Snape’s emotions filled her.

She walked towards him, and shoved Malfoy out of her way. She felt his face contort into the most hating and repulsed expression he could muster.

“Severus…please…”

The signal. Now or never.

She raised her wand and opened her mouth. The cold, cruel words “Avada Kedavra!” echoed from her lips and hit Dumbledore with a burst of green light. He was blasted in the air, then fell slowly over the battlements. Hermione was shaking, or maybe it was Snape – she couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly, a hex hit the ceiling, collapsing it on her. They were in a convenient space under the rubble, but a little more to the right and she would have been killed.

Bloody Death Eater.

Hermione was surprised at that particular thought, but then she was jerked back to what was happening when Draco Malfoy climbed through the debris to her. “Out of here, quickly,” their mouths moved as one. She grabbed him by his neck and forced him through the door.

Done. It’s over.

Hermione wanted to be sick, but she had a feeling that that was mutual between her and Snape. His face was etched with an emotion that she could not place. It wasn’t anger; it was more like…cold, hard. The feelings flooded her, and she knew that they were in preparation for what lie ahead.

Must be cold and hard to the world…not care about anything anymore…otherwise…won’t be able to survive after this.

That last thought of Snape’s was disconnected and weak, as if it was difficult or painful to think. She felt strange – numb almost, but then Snape, or Hermione, shook visibly and everything fell back into normal pace.

“It’s over, time to go!” her mouth opened and shouted one last time.

From now on, I shall be hated. The Order will despise me, and I shall never be trusted again. But that doesn’t matter, because I did what I was ordered do to. My allegiance is to Dumbledore is complete….

Everything began to swirl in a rush of colors, as Hermione seemed to float out of his body. Things were moving very fast as she caught bits of things being said across the grounds:

“Out of the way!”

“Run, Draco!”

“Sectum-“
“You dare use my own spells against me…I, the Half-Blood Prince…”

“Kill me like you killed him, you coward –“
“DON’T – CALL – ME – COWARD!”

She looked at the destruction one last time, and at Dumbledore’s crumpled body outside the castle, then everything around her changed to a place very dark, and a cold, cruel voice she had never heard before was saying,

”Get it to me, Severus. Make it perfectly and bring it to me in a week; no later or I’ll be very unhappy…and I know how much you like me when I’m unhappy with you.”

”My lord, are you sure that you wish –-“ the man’s voice from inside hood tried to speak. Hermione was inside him again - his head was bowed, then he looked up. For the first time, Hermione saw the venomous, terrifying face of Lord Voldemort. She tried to scream, but he spoke once more:

“Silence! Go!” was the reply, and Snape (and Hermione) was gone from the place.

Hermione’s eyes opened. The clock told her that she had been asleep for four hours into the night. Now she did not register that she had been dreaming, though. It felt like it had just happened – like she had actually done it.

Without meaning to, she began to cry. Sob, actually. She was crying for Dumbledore, for Harry and Ron, and for Snape himself, because she now knew what had been going through his mind. She knew that Voldemort had indeed told him to make the potion, but for some reason he held back. She knew that he was all right with being hated because he showed his last loyalty to Dumbledore. Hermione didn’t know what that last order was exactly, but Snape had done it. Maybe...just maybe…Dumbledore wanted him to kill him. He even said something about a signal. And Voldemort, that voice, that face! Hermione was terrified still. She continued to cry out of fear and understanding, and she did not care if Snape heard her or not.

Across from her, the door connecting her to Snape’s bedroom opened, and he stormed over to her, clearly furious. Suddenly, he saw the look of terror on her face and he ran beside her, for she would not look at him. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do.

“Miss Granger. Are you all right?” he asked. “What has happened?” His voice was neither comforting nor gentle, so Hermione simply shook her head. Snape was very concerned with her sudden outburst. His voice then dropped a level of anxiety and said, “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

This time Hermione looked up at him and met his eyes. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she noted the fact that he had called her Hermione for the first time, but she didn’t really hear it just now. His tone did not make her feel much better, but those eyes showed compassion deep inside them. Hermione tried to tell him, but only disconnected words came out between sobs. “Dream…I was you…Dumbledore….V-Voldemort.”

Snape’s face changed slightly, but she couldn’t tell if it was anger or surprise. He had more interest for what she had dreamt, now that she had said those two names. Hermione suddenly felt it all pass through her mind once more, and knew that he was using Legilimency to see what she had seen, but she did not resist it this time.

Instantly he stopped, and he stared at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m sorry,” Hermione cried. “I understand….”

He was not saying anything, just searching her face. Finally he stood up and turned from her, his hands wiping his hair back from his eyes. “Empathy Elixir,” he murmured.

“S-Sorry?”

“The Empathy Elixir,” he said, very firmly, angrily this time, making her jump, “I knew you would have some sort of side effect from inhaling the fumes, but I had forgotten that this can happen in extreme cases. I had no idea you would…”

His voice trailed off. “What exactly did you see?” he asked quietly, and his voice told her that he was dreading the answer.

“You did Legilimency, don’t you know already?” she ventured to say.

He sat across from her again and gave her a hard look, but did not raise his voice. “I only saw some things, and I didn’t see thoughts. Now tell me what you saw…and heard.”

Hermione didn’t want to go through this again, but she forced her voice to be calm. “W-well, it started off that I was me, and I was reliving what happened down by your office…with Flitwick and everything. And then I – I became you. I was in your mind and I watched how it all happened…how you k-killed him. And I heard your thoughts, you thought something about a signal, and something about how you can’t care anymore about what people think and that your final allegiance to Dumbledore is complete. Then it kind of switched to you and V-Voldemort, and he was telling you to make something perfect and bring it to him in a week, but I don’t think you really wanted to, and - and then I saw his face.”

She couldn’t go on. She was staring at Snape, who was staring at the floor with his hands over his forehead, as if he had tried to forget everything until she had said it.

“Er, Sir?” Hermione had stopped crying by now, but she wanted to know something for sure. “Sir, it wasn’t for Voldemort, was it. It was for the Order. Right?”

Snape did not acknowledge her. Hermione felt awkward, like no one but him should have been inside his head at that moment, but she had to say this – she knew she was right.

“A-and the potion. You aren’t really going to give him the Draught of Discovery, are you?”

When she said the words ‘Draught of Discovery’, she thought that he surely must have gotten whiplash from how fast he turned to look at her. She looked down; clearly he thought she didn’t know any more than what she dreamt of it. “We will not discuss this now. I told you before not to question,” he voice was cold, frightening.

“No, I’m not questioning, from what I heard you thinking it seemed fairly clear that you were on our –“

“I said, WE WON’T DISCUSS THIS NOW,” he shouted. He would not look at her, and Hermione felt she had gone too far. “You are not to tell anyone of this.”

She nodded half-heartedly. He stormed back into his room and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione did not understand. Shouldn’t he be happy that I know he’s on our side? Shouldn’t he be grateful that I know I hated him unjustly, and that I do not despise him, like he thought? Oh… Hermione figured it out. They were private thoughts, and it’s the principle of the matter. He didn’t like that I had invaded his mind without him knowing, especially at such an emotional time. That was perfectly understandable, but she still had a very hard time falling asleep again.

When she did finally fall asleep though, one sentence kept playing through her subconscious mind – He called me Hermione….



Awww, I love this chapter, even though it's not exactly an 'awww'-worthy chapter, haha. OK, I can't make any promises about chapter 6, it'll be up if I can fit it in. Here's the feedback thread, comment me, please!

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 6

Hermione yawned as she opened her eyes. What a night…was that all real? She was remembering her dream and Snape’s outburst when she rolled over and fell out of bed.

“Oh!” she breathed, making a loud thump as she hit the floor, completely waking her up. She shook her head to clear it, and then got up. She grabbed her bath bag from her trunk and walked out of her room.

Snape was stirring something inside a cauldron out in the main room. She crossed to the bathroom without looking at him, nor him at her. She walked into it and shut the door behind her. As she got the full look at the room around her, she gasped with surprise.

This was not like the rest of his quarters, and it certainly did not look like a bathroom Severus Snape would have. Everything was shiny black and white tile. There was a large sink with a bright mirror above it, and a toilet (no description needed). Aside from that there was a brilliant bathtub with 15 different faucets. This is almost like the prefect’s bathroom! she thought excitedly. Immediately she began to look at what the different faucets did, stripped, and got into the large tub, which was now filled with bright purple bubbles. Something felt strange though; maybe it was the fact that she was completely naked with Snape only 5 feet behind a closed door. Just to make herself feel better, she reached for her wand to lock the door, but found she had left it in her room. Great.

Still uneasy, she finished her bath quickly and began to get ready. She suddenly realized that her new bath robe was still in her trunk, and she accidentally brought her old one, which was several years old and not the proper length anymore. Are you kidding me? I have to walk past Snape like this?! Realizing she had no other choice, she pulled the robe over her body. She went towards the door and prayed that he would not look up, then pulled it open.

She pulled it down as far as it would go and tried to walk casually across the room, but it was no use. She could feel her heart beating like mad; surely he can hear it! She chanced a glance at him, and he was looking down. She was almost at her door when with her peripheral vision she saw Snape do a double take as he looked at her. Instantly he dropped his eyes, for both of them could sense the other’s embarrassment. Hermione scooted into her room and slammed the door shut, leaning on it from the inside. She was breathing heavily as if she had just run a race, and in her reflection in the mirror she saw that her face was very red.

Ok, why am I so embarrassed? It’s not like he saw anything. And why do I even care what he thinks of me? she thought angrily. To reassure herself, she stepped completely in front of the mirror. In that one look, she saw how much she had changed. Hermione had never really noticed it before; she remembered looking at herself when she was eleven years old, and now she was almost eighteen – an adult. She was slender and curved at just the right places (and to her discomfiture, the robe plainly showed that), her hair had lost some of its bushiness, and her deep brown eyes seemed to have melted down from the ugly murky color they had been as a child. She was beautiful.

Tearing herself from her reflection, she faced the fact that she must indeed leave the private comfort of her room and do her duties with Snape. Hermione pulled out her trunk and began to look through it for clothes. Out of all her school cloaks, she didn’t have any that were cool enough for this stiflingly shut place she now lived in. At the bottom of her trunk, she finally found a few muggle t-shirts and shorts she had brought just in case.

Unbelievable, she thought bitterly, examining her luck. She could just imagine what Snape would say after she walked past him in a very revealing robe, and then decided to wear rather short shorts. She stopped herself in the middle of this thought and shook her head violently, trying to clear it. I don’t care what Severus Snape thinks of me, and I will wear whatever I want to, she decided. Hermione put on a pair of blue jean shorts and a white tee. She charmed her hair dry with the tip of her wand and looked back in the mirror. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, and she confidently stepped out of her room, but not before putting up a strong outer shell for whatever reaction he might have.

The reaction turned out to be nothing. He was not looking at her, nor speaking (well, of course not, after last night. But it’s not like I tried to pry into his memories! Not that I’m not glad I saw what I did…). Hermione crossed the room; she was not intimidated now by the thought of trying to talk to him. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t mad at him anymore, that she really did understand. And then maybe, just maybe, he might tell her more and she could fill in all the blanks to the story everyone wanted to know since last June. Oh, who am I kidding, this is Snape! This is the man who has shut himself from everyone since he was a child, and I’m expecting him to just open up and tell me the story? This may be more difficult than I thought.

Unsure of how to start, she walked right up beside him and looked into the cauldron he was stirring. She didn’t know what it was, which puzzled her, for she nearly always knew a potion when she saw one almost finished.

”What are you making?” she asked him quite simply.

No reply.

“Sir, can I do anything to help?”

Once again, no reply. What a surprise.

At the moment, there was nothing she could think of to make him talk to her, so Hermione went to the bookcase, pulled out a book, and began to read it on the couch. If he’s going to ignore me, I’m not going to make a fool out of myself. She looked up at him once more, but his eyes were still fixed on the potion. As she turned her eyes back to the book, she could have sworn that he looked at her for an instant. She did not look back; but she was sure he had looked, which meant that he wasn’t as shut up this morning as she thought. After about 30 seconds, she looked up at him again, and his face was not disturbed as she thought it would be, so she decided to speak again.

“Er, is it all right if I leave around 10:45 this morning? I have to meet with McGonagall, remember?” As soon as she said that, his face lost whatever it had just had and turned back to the usual angry. He did not answer her, and she assumed that this must mean it would be ok. In the meantime while she was pretending to read her book, she went through the plan in her head.

OK, I’ll be up there a good fifteen minutes before Ginny will come. I’ll hide behind the tapestry near McGonagall’s office door, and when Ginny sends her off, I’ll sneak in and get that letter. Maybe there’s even more letters that they have sent that she’s keeping from me and Ginny.

Time crept by at an unreasonably slow pace. The entire three hours before she had to leave were spent in complete silence. Hermione conjured her own breakfast, while Snape did not eat at all. He finished two other potions in this time, while she read through the whole book she had picked up. She looked at the clock – she would have to leave in twenty minutes. Just as she got up to put the book back on the shelf, Snape snarled behind her, making her jump.

Hermione turned around and saw Snape holding his left forearm. He rolled up his sleeve and turned so she could not see, but she got a glimpse of the corner of his Dark Mark, which was brilliantly black. He pulled his sleeve back down, twisted around to face her and his eyes darted around his workplace, as if looking for something. In a second’s time, he apparently changed his mind and immediately Disapparated.

Hermione’s mind was working again. Ok, obviously there is a Death Eater meeting, and he was summoned. But what was he looking for? The Draught of Discovery, maybe, but that would mean that he didn’t take it! She smiled as she thought through this theory, then frowned. What if he already had it in his pocket and was looking for something else? I guess I won’t know until he comes back.

Looking at the clock, Hermione decided she had better leave now. She placed the book she was still holding in its place and exited her dormitory. She quietly made her way to the floor on which McGonagall’s office was situated. Silently she crept behind the tapestry near the door and waited. Her watch read 10:58. Any minute now. Then she heard footsteps approaching her hiding place. Was that Ginny or someone else? She couldn’t see anything from here.

Quickly another set of footsteps entered the scene, and then Hermione heard Ginny’s voice.

“Oh, Professor! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The other voice was obviously McGonagall. “I just came from my last class,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dennis Creevy! He’s in the Great Hall, and – and something’s wrong,” Hermione grinned in surprise when Ginny paused; she sounded really believable. “He just came down for lunch, and then he – he said something strange, and his eyes were red, and then he just collapsed! The other teachers sent everyone out, and they told me to come get you.”

“Go in my office and bring the vial on my desk down to the Great Hall, and then tell Hermione and Severus.” McGonagall’s voice was tight and frightened.

Instantly Hermione heard fast footsteps walking in the direction of the Great Hall. She peeked her head out of the tapestry and saw Ginny standing there, looking frantically around. Hermione stepped out from her hiding place and approached her friend, smiling.

“That was good, Ginny, but a little over the top. What is she going to say when she gets to the Great Hall?” she said, but then stopped when she saw Ginny’s face. It was very pale. “What is it?”

“I didn’t make up that story. It was like – it was like he was possessed. Everything I had forgot about Tom Riddle came back…I think it was Him,” Ginny replied quietly. She was obviously referring to Voldemort.

Oh no. Hermione’s smile dropped and her mouth was wide open. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I don’t remember the password to get into her office; I know she said it before….”

“Oh, it’s….Choc- no…oh! Caramel Clusters!” Hermione said loudly to the door, and it opened to them. “Come on!”

They ran into the office and looked at her desk. Ginny pointed at the vial. “That must be it.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, picking it up. “This is the Self-Protection Potion we made for Harry and Ron. They need it, and I don’t know if there’s enough left to send to them if we use this.”

Ginny took it from her. “Listen, you didn’t see him – the teachers don’t know exactly what happened, and they might need this for him if it really is something with, er, You-Know-Who.” Hermione knew that it must have frightened Ginny very much to make her say ‘You-Know-Who’ instead of Voldemort.

As Ginny went for the door, Hermione said, “Wait!” and leafed through the pile on the desk. She found two letters – one addressed to her, and one to Ginny. She stuffed them in her pocket and followed Ginny out.

“I got the letters, now let’s go to the Great Hall and see if we can help.”

“I’m supposed to get Snape first, but do you think we should ‘forget’ to do that?” Ginny put air quotes around ‘forget’, showing that she didn’t want to go and get him. Hermione stopped for a moment and stared at her friend. Ginny didn’t know what she knew about Snape, but she certainly didn’t feel like exposing everything to her yet. She didn’t know what to say, and in the meantime, Ginny voiced her opinions.

“Oh fine, we’d better get him. McGonagall wants me to; besides, the quicker we get that git, the quicker we can get there. We’re members of the Order, after all.” She added the last sentence reluctantly, as if she did not really want to go back down there. Then Hermione remembered that Snape wasn’t even there.

“We can’t get him; he’s not here.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Not here? Where else could he be?”

“He, er…,” Hermione couldn’t decide whether to tell her or not. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. “He was summoned to a Death Eater meeting, I think.”

Ginny turned around, opened her mouth, then closed it. Suddenly she let out an outburst that Hermione wasn’t expecting.

“He’s at a death eater meeting?! Now? Well, what else can we expect; he probably has something to do with what’s happening down there, and that’s why he’s conveniently not here to help us. I can’t believe that McGonagall is falling into the same trap that Dumbledore did. There’s no reason why he should be trusted, and this is perfect evidence! You know what, he –“

“Stop it!” Hermione exploded. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had thought the same thing before she had that dream, and now she felt so bad for him. It was so true – everyone hated him unjustly. She wanted her very best friend, at least, to know the truth…but his words echoed in her head. “You are not to tell anyone of this.” Something about how he said it made her want to keep that promise, regardless of her feelings. Meanwhile, Ginny was waiting angrily for an explanation of her abrupt interruption. “Er…we don’t have time. Like you said, we’re members of the Order now, and they need our help. Come on.”

Hermione didn’t wait for an answer; she simply started walking away. She heard hurried footsteps behind her which told her Ginny had caught up to her. “I’ve known you for a while, and I can tell when you’re not telling me something,” Ginny said. “And I can tell that whatever you aren’t telling me is important.” She waited for Hermione to say something.

“Look, Ginny, it’s not that I want to keep this from you, it’s that I have to. Please don’t ask me about it. I’ll tell you when I feel I can.”

Ginny was not one to give up easily. “It has something to do with Snape, I know it does. Come on, what’s the story here?”

Hermione was getting angry. She stopped and stared at Ginny. “I am not going to say anything now. As a friend, I think you owe it to me to respect the fact that I don’t want to tell you just yet. I promise I will… later.” She stepped onto the moving staircase and walked down it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny walking several feet behind her. Oh great, now she’s mad at me. Well, she can just stay mad because I’m sticking to what I said.

In about a minute she reached the entrance hall. It was crowded with the students that wanted to get inside for lunch, and everyone was whispering excitedly and swapping stories of what they saw. The doors were closed ahead of them. Hermione knew that if something really was wrong, the students shouldn’t be around.

Hermione ran back to the top of the nearest flight of steps and called all the attention to herself.

“Excuse me! You all need to return to your dormitories immediately, and someone will be around to explain what is happening later,” she called out. To her surprise, everyone seemed to think she had some kind of authority, and they followed her orders.

Hermione walked back down to the doors. Ginny stood beside her. Hermione looked at her and saw that that Ginny’s face was paler still.

“Are you all right?” she asked gently. She wanted Ginny to know that she was not angry with her.

Ginny ran her hands through her hair and nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just…it was so unnerving, to see him like that,” she paused and looked up at the great door. “That was a good idea of yours.” She gave a small smile, which soon disappeared. “Let’s go.”

With that, Hermione pushed on the door, but it did not open. “It’s Hermione and Ginny, open the door!” she said loudly.

It opened a crack and McGonagall’s face appeared in the crack. “Did you bring the vial?” Ginny held it up so she could see. “Where’s Severus?” she whispered.

“Oh, er, he left about half an hour ago. I think it was a…meeting,” Hermione replied, choosing her words carefully in case any student was lingering. McGonagall’s face darkened slightly, but her expression did not change.

“C-can we help?” Ginny asked.

McGonagall turned and looked into the Great Hall, then back at them. “If you wish, but if I tell you to leave, you must obey.”

They nodded, and she swung open the door.



Yay, I got chapter 6 up before I go! This chapter and the next several were rather difficult to write, so please forgive me if they are not satisfactory, as they are fast-paced and there's lots of surprises. I'd love to get a few more comments, so leave some at my feedback thread. Please don't forget my fic while I'm gone the next week and a half! Until then -

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 7

They stepped through the door quickly, and McGonagall immediately shut it behind them. The house tables were pushed against the walls, and Dennis Creevy was lying spread-eagle in the middle of the room. His eyes were closed and his chest was barely rising and falling, showing that his breathing was shallow.

There weren’t many teachers in the room. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, Hagrid, and (surprisingly) Trelawny were surrounding him. Also, Lupin, Tonks, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there. Lupin was kneeling beside Dennis and poking him certain places with his wand, shaking his head, then repeating.

“Mum, Dad!” Ginny said in a very relieved tone, and ran over to hug them, but her father raised a hand to stop her.

“Not now,” he murmured softly, turning his eyes back to Lupin. “What do you think Remus?”

“Well, I’m not sure how, but Voldemort was definitely possessing him. I believe that when Voldemort left him, he left him extremely weak – not to mention the shock.”

“He’s not…,” Professor Sprout began.

“No,” Lupin finished, “he’s alive, but barely. He needs immediate care.”

Professor Trelawny stepped to the front of the circle of people, her eyes bigger than the usual. “I foresaw this just this morning! The boy shall die, it was as clear as – “

“There’s no time for your optimism now, Sibyl,” McGonagall interrupted, her nostrils flaring. Trelawny whipped her shawl tighter around her in anger and retreated back to observation. “Ginny, give me the vial.”

Ginny handed it to her, and as she proceeded to pour it down Dennis’s throat, Hermione spoke up. “Wait, Minerva! Er, is it absolutely necessary for him to drink that?”

McGonagall looked appalled that she would ask such a question. “Of course! This might save him if there are any traces of dark magic still in him. Why on earth would you ask such a thing?” She again tried to give it to him, but Hermione interrupted once more.

“Please wait, if you give that to him, I don’t think there will be enough left to send to Harry and Ron!”

At that, there was a pause. “Surely Snape has enough ingredients to make another batch?” Mrs. Weasley reasoned.

Hermione had an answer to that. “We used up the last of two ingredients to make it. I assume that Snape will get more when he can, but last night he told me to give this to Minerva right away so she could send it along to them.”

“It’s a good thing you waited, Minerva, because he will need it,” Lupin said.

“Yes, but will he need it more than Harry or Ron could?” Ginny replied anxiously.

Again, there was a pause in the room. Finally McGonagall spoke. “This boy needs it now, and as of yet Potter does not. There’s not much time to waste, and this could save him.” With that, she poured the entire vial into his mouth, then propped him up so that he might swallow it.

Instantly a thin wisp of red smoke emitted from his mouth, and he shuddered. Dennis’s eyes snapped open and he looked around, terrified. “What happened? Where am I?” spoke Dennis in a high-pitched voice.

“It’s all right, everything’s fine. You’re in the Great Hall,” Lupin told him calmly. “Dennis, do you remember anything? It’s very important that you tell us.”

Dennis screwed up his eyes in concentration, but apparently nothing came to him. “I don’t remember anything. All I remember is the worst pain in the world, and then everything went black.” He closed his eyes again and rested his head.

“He must be extremely tired. Ginny,” McGonagall turned to her. “I will need you to care for him. He’s in no danger now, but,” she paused here, and lowered her voice so that Dennis could not here, “once he’s up to talking more, you must try to get him to tell you anything at all that might have happened to him that could help us explain how this occurred.”

Ginny nodded. “But what if he will not tell me?”

McGonagall turned to Hermione now. “Hermione, since we will not use veritaserum on a student, when Severus returns have him extract the memory from him if he has not already told Ginny.” She paused at Ginny’s skeptical face. “Severus is very gifted in that particular field.” She waved her wand and a stretcher appeared before her.

Mr. Weasley and Lupin lifted Dennis up very gently and placed him on the magical stretcher. “Take him to the hospital wing, and stay with him until we return,” McGonagall ordered.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked her.

Everyone looked at Hermione. “I daresay this calls for a meeting of the Order,” McGonagall replied simply. “We shall meet in my office and discuss this.”

“Can’t we come?” questioned Hermione. After all, we are members.

She sighed. “I suppose you may come, Hermione, but I need Ginny to remain with Dennis.”

Ginny looked as if she was going to object to this arrangement, but she held her tongue, for she knew it was important for her to be there if Dennis said anything. With a last look at her parents, and a look at Hermione which clearly said “Tell me everything”, Ginny charmed the stretcher to follow her as she left the Great Hall.

“Come, everyone,” McGonagall said shortly as she proceeded out of the Hall and in the general direction of her office. Everyone slowly proceeded after her, but Hermione lagged behind so she could walk with Tonks and the Weasleys.

“Oh hello, dear,” Mrs. Weasley smiled half-heartedly at her when she saw Hermione.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione replied. She knew that this was very serious, and she didn’t want to go into the meeting looking like she didn’t know what was happening, so she asked the only question that would help the situation. “What exactly happened?”

Tonks sighed and said what she knew. “From what we know, he was walking into lunch when Voldemort somehow entered him, and then he said something in Parseltongue. His eyes were red, he rose into the air, the whole nine yards; then suddenly he collapsed. We don’t know how Voldemort got to him, whether it was over Christmas break, or sometime when he was out near the forest – either way, this spells trouble.”

Hermione noted that if Tonks was being serious, then it must be trouble. Of course, this implied danger; this shows that Voldemort could somehow get to a student inside Hogwarts. By the time she had finished her thoughts, they were filing into McGonagall’s office, which seemed to have been magically expanded to fit them all. Everyone took a seat.

“Should we call all the members?” Tonks asked.

McGonagall thought on this for a moment, then said, “Not today. We can’t have them all coming into the castle; the students don’t need to know everything, and they will only question more if unknown wizards arrive. By the way, who dispersed them?”

Hermione raised her hand, which was met by an approving nod by Minerva. “On the other hand, every member who is at the castle should be here. Where is Hagrid?”

The moment she said that, Hagrid rushed through the door. “Sorry I’m late. Jus’ passed Ginny in the hall and she told me ter come to this meetin’. Did I miss anythin’?” Apparently he had been in his cabin at the time of the incident, and he didn’t know a thing. He was quickly filled in.

“Blimey, are yeh sure it was You-Know-Who?” he asked quietly, sinking into a chair.

“Yes, and I’ve told you before Hagrid, you must call him Voldemort now. You will only become more fearful if you refuse to say the name. Now, I call this impromptu meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to order. Does anyone have any suggestions as to how this might have happened?” McGonagall asked the room.

Mrs. Weasley suggested that Voldemort reached him over the holidays; Lupin reasoned that it might have happened through the use of a Dark object, but when Flitwick said it might have happened anywhere outdoors, Hagrid jumped up.

“I think yer onto it, Professor, I’ve jus’ remembered! He had Care o’ Magical Creatures with me before lunch. While we were ou’ there, he wandered into the forest fer a while, and I had the class all search fer him – gave me a right fright, he did. Well, one o’ the students found him in a clearin’ a ways in. They came back fine, and he said tha’ he jus’ got lost while he was lookin’ fer the group o’ us. Somethin’ wasn’t quite right with him, though. He acted kinda strange, bu’ not tha’ strange for a Creevy so I didn’ say anythin’.”

“Hagrid, I believe you’re right!” McGonagall gasped. “That clearing he was in, was it far enough off that you could Apparate there?”

Hagrid nodded.

“Shouldn’t we notify Colin Creevy? Where is he?” Lupin asked.

“Oh yes, Hermione, would you…?” McGonagall had started to speak, but her voice trailed off as Hermione gasped with sudden surprise, turning everyone to look at her. The hand that Snape had charmed had just turned ice cold – painfully cold. What on earth? I thought it was supposed to get hot when he called me. Suddenly she realized that everyone was staring at her.

“Er, sorry, I just remembered that I left a potion on to simmer, and I’ve left it on too long. Excuse me,” she lied quickly and ran out the door without another word.

As soon as she was out she looked at her hand, and to her astonishment, there was black writing on the back of it. It looked like someone had written on it with a quill. It said, “Forest”. Hermione tried to rub it off, but nothing happened. OK, something is definitely not right. She had the strangest feeling that she could not shake, so she decided to do the only apparent thing – go to the forest.

As she made her way out of the castle, walking as fast as she thought looked normal, she thought about what Snape had said before. “…to come back I must Apparate outside the school grounds then walk back with a Disillusionment Charm…” All right, so he had obviously Apparated back, but why is he calling me? Then she remembered what Hagrid had said about Dennis; Dennis had been found in a clearing of the Forbidden Forest near where people Apparate, and then he suddenly was found with Voldemort possessing him! Snape wouldn’t have…Snape wouldn’t have done something to help Voldemort do this, would he? I know he wouldn’t. But if that did happen, what am I going to find in the forest?

Something in the back of her mind was pressing on her, and she knew that she must hurry – but why must she hurry? She didn’t know. Putting her ice-cold hand in her pocket to try to warm it (to no effect), she began to run towards the forest. When she reached the edge, she stood for a moment, aware of the fact that she didn’t know where that clearing was, or even if Snape was there. That impulse in the back of her mind was still going strong, and without any reason she ran to her right and into the forest. It was bright outside, but soon she lost track of the sun beneath the dark trees as she went deeper.

“Lumos,” she ignited her wand end to help find her way. Hermione began to slow down, realizing that there very well could be something dangerous in her path. What if it’s a trap? What if Voldemort told Snape to summon me, only to deliver me right to him…! She could feel her heart pounding deep in her chest. She put these thoughts aside in light of the fact that if she began to worry, she surely would become more frightened then she needed to be. As she turned around the trunk of a large tree, the clearing came into view.

Hermione looked around, and she didn’t hear anything. “Nox,” she whispered, and her light went out. She decided to walk into it, for the cold sensation was getting weaker. Silent as a cat, she crept to the edge of the clearing and stood still, listening. Then she heard it; faint breathing, rasped breathing to her left. Her wand held high over her head, she moved her head so she could see what was lying beneath the shrub. What she saw made her heart stop, and she gasped.

It was Snape, and he was lying on his back. He had cuts on his face and on his chest, which were bleeding profusely. Hermione rushed to his side, ignoring that she was kneeling in his blood, and stared horrified as Snape’s eyes rolled in their sockets and his extremities twitched in agony.



I'm sooooo sorry I left you guys with that cliffhanger last chapter! I didn't even think about it. Well, I can't really say that this chapter is without a cliffhanger either. The next couple chapters are extremely important, so dont' worry, I should have chapter 8 up relatively soon. Also, the next several chapter were extremely difficult to write, and I kept deleting and re-editing them, so I hope they live up to expectations! As always, here's my feedback thread. Please comment! Until next post...

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 8

“Sir! Sir, can you hear me?” Hermione said as clearly as she could, but her voice was cracking in fear. He made no motion that acknowledged her. Thinking fast, she remembered what Harry had told her last year, about how he had accidentally cursed Malfoy, and he had begun to spurt blood. Just like this…. Her heart was pounding as she tried to remember what Harry had said Snape had done to save Draco.

“Oh!” Hermione breathed out loud when she remembered the charm. It was ancient magic, the likes of which she had only read about, and even so only a very skilled wizard could perform it. Nonetheless, it was the best thing she could think of, so she whipped out her wand and began to trace it over the deep gashes on Snape’s face, murmuring the incantation. She looked at her handiwork and noted it as “acceptable”; it would do until she could get him to the castle.

After she did this, however, she realized that she must remove his shirt to get to the wounds on his chest. Not thinking of anything but what must be done, Hermione carefully pulled off the man’s cloak and removed the bloodstained shirt from his body. She subconsciously noticed that Snape’s torso was not at all what she had expected – his body was toned, even muscular – perfect besides the gruesome slash across his chest that was spurting blood. Shaking herself back to what she had to do, she traced his cut with her wand, which was difficult to do for Snape’s jerking, all the while concentrating on her spell. After the fourth time repeating this motion, the cuts had sealed themselves as best she could perform, but Snape was still breathing in short, painful gasps.

Not only that, but his eyes were darting in all directions, as if he could see something that Hermione could not, something that was frightening him. Hermione did not know what to do now, though, for he apparently did not know she was there, and he was groaning in a way which implied that the pain had not subsided.

Hermione’s only thought at the moment was to try to rouse Snape from whatever state he was in. “Sir…sir! What’s wrong?” Hermione spoke loudly and clearly. She began to gently shake his shoulder. “Sir…I’m right here, you’re all right!” Snape’s breathing was as irregular as ever, and the way his eyes were moving reminded Hermione sickly of Mad-Eye Moody. “Sir…Snape!” she said desperately, shaking him harder. “Everything’s fine, just let me help you!”

He continued to ignore her without comprehension of her being there. Obviously unaware of his actions, Snape took a swing at the air, barely missing Hermione. “It’s all right, just calm down - Severus!” Hermione yelled. The recognition of his name must have clunked something back into place, for Snape’s eyes stopped rolling and they focused dead ahead, then turned very slowly to Hermione’s. Instantly Hermione wished she had not spoken his first name, for even though it worked, it made her very embarrassed.

Without warning, Snape grabbed her wrist, making Hermione gasp with surprise. She stared into his deep eyes and saw that they seemed to be having difficulty focusing in on her. Half the time they seemed like they were in a different time, a different place, and he was fighting to stay in the present. “S-sir?” she asked, a little afraid. “Sir, are you all right?”

He shook his head, but did not take his eyes off of her. The muscles in his throat were working rapidly, for he was trying to speak. His breathing was still labored, and every word seemed to bring him pain. “What did you say?” his voice was frighteningly quiet.

Hermione did not understand. “I asked you if you were all right.” Her brow furrowed as she watched Snape struggle to put the words together.

“No, what did you call me,” he asked her again, loosening his grip on her wrist in pain.

Hermione’s cheeks shone crimson. Her voice became very small when she said, “Severus. I called you Severus. I’m sorry, that was – “ she stopped because Snape was shaking his head again, trying to reply.

“No, it…helped. You may…say that,” Snape was breathing more difficultly than ever and his words were disconnected and slurred, as though his brain was skipping a step. “…cursed…can’t…father….” He continued to speak unconnected and brief words, none of which made any sense to Hermione but the first part. It sounded like he said he wants me to call him Severus…but I don’t see what that has to do with this. His eyes were back to the far-off place they had been trying to escape.

Just then Snape grimaced in pain, and Hermione was brought back to the situation. “W-we should get to the castle and tell McGonagall. You don’t seem-“ Hermione stopped talking once more at Snape’s movements. It looked like it was taking a greater effort to form words, he was having difficulty getting his mouth around them.

He cleared his throat enough to say “No.”

“No? No to going to the castle or no to telling McGonagall?” Hermione replied anxiously.

Snape’s brow furrowed and he closed his eyes, saying, “McGonagall. Do not…tell her.”

Hermione thought it best not to argue the point now, but made a mental note to ask him later why he wished to avoid telling McGonagall. “All right then, but you are by no means well, and I don’t know much more I can do to help you. You obviously can’t go to St. Mungo’s, and Madam Pomfrey’s not here. I’ve done most everything I can….” She looked down at Snape, but eyes were still closed. Hermione took this as a sign that she needed to get him to the castle, the sooner the better.

“Can you hear me? Sir, can you stand or should I levitate you?” she asked, taking the matter into her hands.

“Minamssev,” was the mumble that came from Snape’s lips as a reply.

“What?” Hermione said, leaning closer to hear him. His eyes snapped open, but they were still unfocused.

“My name is…Severus,” he whispered, losing strength fast.

Hermione was greatly concerned for him now; he kept going in and out of his right mind, and for some reason he seemed desperate that she knew him as Severus. “I know, your name is Severus,” she coaxed as she got behind him and propped him up on her knee. “We need to leave now, can you walk?”

He did not answer, but instead immediately rolled onto his side and attempted to raise himself off the ground. Hermione knew that he would not be able to do it, so she kneeled on the ground beside him, put her arm around his waist, and helped to lift him to his feet (which was no easy job). Snape appeared to be supporting some of his own weight, but not enough to go on on his own.

“Lumos,” Hermione said, and her wand tip ignited in her left hand, while her right arm remained around Snape’s torso. “I’ll be helping you, Sir- I mean, Severus.” She quickly grabbed his cloak off the ground and started walking. I wonder why he insists on his first name, Hermione wondered as they began their first few steps. Snape was taller than her, so walking was rather clumsy, as his shoulders were slumped low in the effort to keep going. Hermione could feel his every ragged breath softly tingling on her ear. For some reason, her heart seemed to flutter each time his body moved against hers.

As they made their way through the forest, Hermione decided that this was not as awkward as she had thought – on the contrary her spirits lifted as they walked this way, and she didn’t know why. Each step echoed through the forest, and at every stride a small seedling of a thought in the back of Hermione’s mind grew oh so slightly. But Hermione was ignoring it; she didn’t want to think about it just yet.

Sooner than she expected, they reached the edge of the forest, and she realized that Snape was completely visible. “Can you stand for a moment?” she whispered to him. Snape’s weight lifted off of her shoulders and decided to lean against the nearest tree instead. His eyes were open, but they looked extremely tired. “I’m going to Disillusion you now, all right?” She walked up to him, took his cloak off her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, very aware of how close they were. She backed away as quickly as she could and raised her wand to perform the charm.

“Thank you, Hermione…” Snape murmured softly, catching Hermione off guard.

For what felt like the millionth time today, she felt the color rise to her face as she met his gaze. “It’s no problem, I mean, you must be Disillusioned to get to the castle….”

“No,” Snape breathed in deeply, winced in pain, and continued to speak. “No…for everything.”

Hermione broke their stare and smiled. “You’re very welcome, Severus,” and with that she rapped him on the head with her wand, repeated the action on herself, and watched as they both seemed to melt into the background. “Let’s keep going.”

She put her arm around him and continued to guide him across the grounds. I don’t mind calling him Severus…it actually feels a lot better than “Sir”…and he had even called me Hermione…! Hermione’s thoughts were coming faster, and that seed was growing rapidly, finally bursting into the front of her attention. It came as a conscience would speak, and it spoke very slowly, “You – like – Snape.” Hermione stopped abruptly, mouth open in comprehension. Snape staggered slightly at the halt.

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered and continued to walk, this time head down deep in thought. It made complete sense: the blushing, how she liked it when they were on a first-name basis, and how (she glanced sideways at Snape before realizing she couldn’t see him properly) she thought his body was attractive, well-built and strong, like he could protect her from anything….

Hermione just then realized that she had been smiling through that whole thought process, and that seemed to confirm it. With a jolt, she saw that they were approaching the front doors. She checked her watch; it was noon. OK, it’s lunchtime, but the students are probably still in their dormitories. I will be able to get him into our room easily if no one’s in the corridors. It seemed easy enough. She extinguished her wand tip, which she just realized had been lit for the whole time they were walking, and pushed open the giant oak doors, shoving all previous thoughts out of her mind. Luckily no one was in the entrance hall.
Hermione led Snape down the stairs that led to the dungeons, turned left at the landing, then gasped, quickly hiding behind a pillar. The Slytherins were mingling around this corridor. By now Snape was extremely weak, and he was only barely walking with her. She looked at the man she was supporting and knew that she could not walk past with him – the Disillusionment Charm was only effective if you were looking at him at a distance, for up close his outline was quite visible, not to mention the fact that she would not be able to take him quickly. She took a second and calculated the moment.

She was standing in a T – shaped corridor. The Slytherin common room entrance was at the connection of the T, and she had to turn right, but she couldn’t walk past them. Then a sudden thought came to her; she used a nonverbal spell to create an explosion to the left side of the corridor. Hermione smirked at her own cunning, watched the Slytherins rush to see what the commotion was about, and then hurried with Snape along the right.

His breathing was coming no easier than before, and he had started to groan in pain. “Sh…,” Hermione whispered, getting the distinct impression of talking to a child, “you must be quiet; we’re almost there.”

Snape did as best he could the rest of the way. Finally Hermione reached the candle which she must charm to open their door. As she raised her wand to tap it thrice, Snape’s knees gave way and he fell to the floor. Oh great, Hermione thought desperately. She opened the door, whispered “Wingardium Leviosa,” and levitated Snape onto the couch in their dormitory, slamming the door behind her.

Hermione felt her heart pounding with the adrenaline of what had just happened. She walked over to Snape and performed the couter-charm to the Disillusionment so that both she and the man before her were visible again. Hermione couldn’t help but stare at Snape; he seemed to have changed so much in the last hour. He was no longer terrifying and mean, nor was he repulsive or old. Severus Snape was mysterious, intelligent, and rather attractive to Hermione’s new eye.

Tearing herself from the couch, she rushed over to the desk and began to brew a Healing Potion. If anything is to help him, this should. All her movements were in a blur, she was lost in thought once more. Hermione went into the cupboard and pulled out the ingredients she would need, noting that she would have to go to Diagon Alley soon to get more ingredients, but that was not important now. She took them and prepared the potion.

Adjusting the temperature, Hermione set it to simmer for fifteen minutes, and she walked over to the seat across from Snape. When the chair creaked from the sudden weight, Snape’s head rolled over to face her, but his eyes remained closed. Hermione saw the odd position of Snape’s neck, so she quietly conjured a pillow carried it over to him, and stood behind the armrest his head was awkwardly laying on. She gently lifted his head and placed the pillow behind it, to which he let out an unconscious groan of satisfaction.

As Hermione moved to go back to her seat, she tripped against the leg of the couch and fell to the floor with a loud thump. Snape shifted above her, and she instinctively covered her mouth for fear of an exclamation of pain – she didn’t want to rouse him from whatever rest he had found. But something held her back from returning to her chair. She was very close to him now. She could see each rise and fall of his chest from his ragged breathing and feel the warmth emanating from his sweating chest.

Without thinking, Hermione reached her hand out and touched the cut on Snape’s face. Her heart began beating very fast and loud; she was sure he would hear it. To her surprise, Snape did not move, nor did she. Hermione stroked the injured side of his face, conscious of every passionate thought it ensued upon her.

Smelling something slightly irregular, Hermione jumped up in surprise to take her Healing Potion off its simmer. She went to the desk, poured a gobletful for Snape and took it over to him. Examining his pose, she knew he would not be able to swallow it. Therefore Hermione lifted his upper body and sat behind it, leaving Snape in a comfortable reclined position – just enough to get it down. She reached out, grabbed the goblet, and proceeded to pour it into his mouth.

The moment the liquid first ran down his throat, Snape began to cough violently, spitting and sputtering so that no more could enter his body. Does it hurt him to swallow? Or can’t he breathe enough to get it down? His breathing was still quite sporadic. Hermione tried again, this time gently compelling him to drink it.

“This will help you, Severus, just drink it down and then you’ll be fine,” she whispered. Amazingly, Snape swallowed several mouthfuls with only little difficulty, but once the goblet was drained, he began to cough worse than ever. Hermione backed away slightly in surprise, unsure of what to do. The only thing she could think of was what she had seen on muggle television as a child.

Hermione pushed forward so that Snape was in a full sitting position and began to slap on his back as if he were choking. No, this is stupid, this won’t help, Hermione thought quickly. But just as quickly as it had started, the coughing stopped. Snape let his full weight fall back upon Hermione, and, caught by surprise, she couldn’t resist it. Hermione was pushed completely back, with Snape’s upper body lying on her lap.

I’m glad that’s over, but this position is no better. Then Hermione realized that Snape’s breathing was normal once more; it was soft and slow, but normal. Hermione sighed deeply, confident that she had helped him. This actually isn’t that uncomfortable, she thought, I mean, he looks so peaceful like that.

Once again, Hermione reached her hand out to touch him, but the moment she touched his skin, his eyes snapped open and bore into hers. It was a little unnerving, so she apologized quickly for her forwardness. “I-I’m sorry, Severus, I wasn’t thinking….” But her voice trailed off. The moment she had said his name, his expression became different; his brow was furrowed, but Hermione couldn’t tell if it was confusion or anger, and those eyes were penetrating, cold.

Hermione knew that she had done or said the wrong thing, but she didn’t know why. Didn’t he want me to call him that? She stared apprehensively at Snape, and slowly removed herself from the couch, so that she was sitting on the floor. Hermione flushed the longer she held his gaze, the longer she waited for him to say something, but that moment seemed to stretch on and on.



Yay, I've been waiting to post this chapter! OK, let me just say that I was already having trouble with chapter 9, but being half-way through the last book hasn't made it any easier. If anything, I'm more confused, haha; just the inner gears of my mind going a little haywire. Don't worry, though, I've almost got it. I'm sorry it took so long to post this one (I meant to put it up on Friday, but I didn't know the forums would be closed), and I hope to have chapter 9 up by friday, saturday at the latest.

Here's my feedback thread. I'd love it if I got a few more people to comment! Anyways, until next post...

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 9

“What did you call me?” Severus asked in a quiet voice after what seemed like an eternity. Though it was not angry, it was not comforting either.

Hermione got the distinct feeling of déjà vu before she answered, “Severus. I called you Severus.” She flushed more the longer he held her gaze. “You wanted me to, remember?”

At this statement, his features definitely became troubled. She could see his face contorted in the expression of someone trying desperately to remember something. He doesn’t remember anything he said back there. Hermione shifted, extremely uncomfortable with the way this conversation was headed.

She was just about to ask what had happened to him when Severus asked, “What else did I say.” It was barely a question, for he was trying to remain expressionless.

Hermione wasn’t sure of the answer to this question, for he had said many incoherent things, but she did her best to reiterate his words. “Er…you kept insisting that your name was Severus, and you wanted me to call you that. And you said something about a curse, and…oh, you mentioned ‘father’.”

Severus’s face slid into comprehension, but just as soon as he seemed to understand something, he turned his face from hers. Hermione did not understand. She stood up to see what was wrong, and realized with a glance at his face that he actually had a tinge of a blush on his face – well, as much of a blush that Severus Snape could have. She was sure that he was embarrassed about something, and therefore she was embarrassed to see him like that. Completely at a loss for words, Hermione sat back down, trying to think of something comforting to say – anything to say.

“Did I mention anyone else?” came the tense voice once more. Hermione looked over at him. “Is that all you heard?” His voice was audibly controlled, and Hermione was more baffled than ever.

“Yes, that’s all. Besides you thanking me…,” she brought her eyes down. She could have sworn that she heard him quietly exhale a breath, as if expecting her to say something different. He turned his head so that he faced the ceiling, but he still did not look at her.

“Sev- I mean, Sir,” Hermione stumbled over her first word. She didn’t want him to react like that again from the mention of his first name, “what happened to you? Who did this to you? Please tell me.”

He turned to stare at her. He was expressionless again, but his voice was slow and mild. “I cannot. The more you know, the more danger you may be in.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione replied. He cares for your safety…, the little voice in her head murmured softly, but Hermione was ignoring it. She didn’t really care much about her danger; she wanted to know what happened. She could tell that Snape was choosing his words carefully. “You are not as incompetent as most your age, and therefore you most likely know where I went this morning?” Hermione nodded. “Then you must understand my position. The Dark Lord is the most accomplished Legilimens in the world, and if he acquires you, the Order will all be in jeopardy, but especially you and I.”

She was trying to fit everything together. “So you cannot tell me anything that I wouldn’t normally know in case Voldemort,” Severus made a small “ssss” noise, but she spoke over it, “tries to get information from me because then he’ll know you spoke of your meetings to me, an Order member. But if I’m a fair Occlumens without any training, imagine how much I would be able to resist him if I had a proper teacher?” At this last, she nodded at Severus.

He was calculating her very carefully, deciding what to say and what not to, but Hermione spoke first the question she had been dying to know, “Did Voldemort do this to you after you didn’t give him the Draught of Discovery, or after he possessed Dennis Creevy?” She had decided to be straightforward rather than dodge that she knew the truth. Besides, she was just betting on the fact that Snape didn’t hand over the potion, but if she guessed right, it would be a much more impressive question.

Snape’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Hermione contained a smirk at her correct supposition. “I am just observant and, as you said, less ‘incompetent’ than some of my friends.” Hermione was trying to goad him into telling her what really happened. “So seeing as how I already know the details…?”

Severus was obviously impressed by her knowledge of the situation, but skirted her questioning for the present. “What happened to Creevy once he got to the castle?” he asked. He confirmed that he knew what had been done to Dennis, Hermione thought as she told what she knew. When she had completed, Snape closed his eyes.

“Why did Voldemort possess him?” asked Hermione tentatively.

Severus paused. “A warning,” he replied, his eyes still closed.

“A warning for what?”

He chose not to respond.

“Fine, then, what happened at the meeting? You didn’t answer my first question – why exactly did Voldemort do this to you?”

Again, silence met her words. Hermione exhaled in a very exasperated way. I understand his position, but he should know I would keep any secret he trusted me with. A muscle in Snape’s cheek twitched ever so slightly, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he had seen that thought. All the better, she reasoned, and waited for him to say something; she waited in vain for several moments, all the while trying to see into his mind, but he was determined upon keeping her out of it (which wasn’t saying much, seeing as how Hermione couldn’t perform Legilimency). Nonetheless Hermione suddenly jumped up and began to pace, the gears in her mind working, trying to see a way around Snape’s stubbornness.

“Look, you can trust me; I really will keep any secret you tell me. You can’t just sit there and stare at me!” she added heatedly, staring defiant daggers down at Snape who, oddly, was not making any motion or face that would display an irritation for her words. “I’m probably the only one besides McGonagall who believes you after all, and I am the only one with an absolute reason.”

At these words, Snape’s face slid into the dark look that Hermione knew so well. “You do not comprehend the weight those words hold,” he almost yelled. Severus made an attempt to prop himself up, winced in pain, and slid back down, very angrily, into his original position, slightly paler than before. “You cannot speak them, think them, believe them at all. The reason you speak of was just a ridiculous dream, and – “

“It was not just a dream and we both know that,” Hermione snapped.

This time Snape’s eyes were the ones shooting daggers. “You will not interrupt me. I have told you twice now; we will not discuss my part in this war.”

Hermione was thinking some very bold things in her mind, constantly keeping Snape from invading those thoughts, but she finally let them echo into his head. Why? Just because you don’t want to get hurt more than you already are? I’m not one of those people against you. I trust you now like Dumbledore trusted you – “I actually care….” Hermione finished aloud, but she stopped talking there, for she wasn’t sure if she was about to be shouted at or not.

As she stared down at Snape, it appeared that he was having an inward battle. Hermione was sure that she knew why – He’s mad that I accused of him of being hurt, but he likes the fact that I care…. She was sure no one had taken such liberties when talking to this man before, so Hermione decided to just finish it off in a way that would hopefully not make him as irate.

She bent down once more to sit beside the couch. They did not lose eye contact with each other until she spoke, and Snape averted his gaze. “I really do care a-about you,” she tripped over the last part of the sentence, rather embarrassed to admit it, “and that’s why I want to know what happened. Not because I’m going to run and tell McGonagall, but so I can help you. I know Voldemort did it and it was some form of Sectumsempra, am I wrong?”

Snape bore his eyes into hers, and she felt the sensation of Legilimency being used on her, and she did not resist for the second time. The images of Snape with the Draught of Discovery, herself reading about it in Dark Drafts for the Deceitful at Heart, and Snape lying injured in the forest all passed before her eyes very quickly. When Hermione’s eyes could see nothing but the room around her again, Snape carefully licked his lips and began to speak.

“You are not mistaken. I only tell you this because you already know, and if I doubted that you had control over your Occlumency, you would certainly not be hearing this,” he paused, “but still I cannot reveal much. The attack on Dennis was a warning…to me. You are correct, I did not turn over the Draught of Discovery, and therefore I was greatly punished. Whatever I said to you in the forest,” he chose to stare at the ceiling at this point, “was mostly while I was still under the curse. I relived…could not control what….” Severus stopped talking, but Hermione understood enough.

While searching for a reply, she saw him look at his own bare chest for the first time. He conjured a blanket silently and covered himself with it. As Hermione did this, she knew that she must be flushing, for it seemed so obvious to cover him once they were inside. “You did this?” he asked quietly, pointing where his skin had been formed together, but would probably scar. Hermione nodded.

”I know it wasn’t good. I did the best I could….”

“And may I ask where you learned to perform this ancient magic?”

Hermione did a double take; she had been expecting him to speak ill of her work, for in truth it really wasn’t very good. “Er, I read about it, but that doesn’t matter, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey could do it ten times better in a heartbeat.”

Snape shook his head. “You found the book about it hidden in a certain bookcase in the right wing of the library?” he asked with a very curious expression on his face. Hermione’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“How did you know…?” Then it dawned upon Hermione that as a student, Snape must have come upon the same book, and that was how he knew the charm as well. “But still, I’m sure many people can do it, and mine was poorly done. I’m sorry for the scarring you will probably have.” She admitted.

“Was this your first attempt?”

Hermione nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood.

“I do not know if you are aware of this, Hermione,” he was speaking very softly now, and Hermione distinctly felt her pulse quicken at the sound of her first name, “but very few people know how to perform that spell; only a select few Healers at St. Mungo’s can. There are other ways to heal curse cuts such as these, but none is more difficult or unfamiliar than that counter-curse. For your first attempt it was…impressive.”

Hermione could not help but smile at this, for this was as close to a compliment as she could get from Snape.

“Thank you, sir,” she mumbled.

Snape looked at the ceiling when he added, “And as for the scars, they will serve as a reminder of how I am…in great debt to you.” He paused, obviously not really wanting to continue. “Had you not come when I called, or known a countercurse….” Hermione wasn’t expecting this at all. She hadn’t thought of it as saving his life…I just tidied him up a bit, that’s all. “Thank you,” he finished in barely a whisper, clearly not used to saying such things.

“Y-you’re welcome,” she stuttered involuntarily.

“But I am very serious that you must forget that I said that,” he countered immediately. “It is a fact that I owe you my life – we are now magically bound because of what you have done - but no one can know. It must be secret, do you understand?”

Hermione nodded. She had a feeling that this was about her safety again. She had nothing else to say, so she stood up, but Snape began speaking again.

“I believe that this proves that you are responsible enough to begin learning Legilimency, but we shall start with proper Occlumency, for now it is imperative that you do not falter in it.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, smiling at him. She turned around and went over to the rest of the healing potion. She began to use her wand to siphon it into a container when Snape’s voice spoke very softly from across the room, his eyes closed once more.

“And….” Hermione turned to him and waited with bated breath, silently wishing that he would say what she hoped he would.

“I see no reason not to be on a first name basis...now that….” He trailed off into what appeared to be sleep and did not finish his sentence, but that was good enough for Hermione. It was too perfect; he must have seen my thoughts and concurred, unless he feels the same way…? Hermione chose to become very interested on a spot on the floor to avoid Snape seeing her beaming and blushing magnificently.



I'm so glad this is finally up! I've been reading Deathly Hallows all week and I've finally finished it, . I'm working on the next chapter now, and it should be up soon. Please leave me a comment at my feedback thread. I can't wait to read it!

*drhpluvr4l

Before you read this chapter, I just wanted everyone to know that from this chapter on, I'll be introducing some phrases and concepts from Deathly Hallows, but ultimately I think the end will be very different than that of the book. I don't know if it was necessary to say something or not, but I figure better safe than sorry. Be warned!



Chapter 10

The hours passed quickly, but Hermione took no notice. All she could think about was Severus and how things were slowly evolving between them. Over the next two days, Hermione tended to him, and his condition slowly began to recover, all the while making the potions that she could for Harry and Ron. A health potion every two hours and meals brought to him were no burden for her; she actually liked it. Hermione saw how much they had in common through their many conversations, but she didn’t know whether he felt the same connection that she did. Either way, she was in no rush to extend her feelings toward him just yet.

“Severus,” she whispered gently, trying to rouse him from sleep. “It’s time for your potion.”

His eyes flicked open in a startled sort of look, but relaxed when he had fully awoken. The clock told that it was three in the morning.

“I don’t think that I need to continue taking this tonic. The pain is gone, I am only weak. Rest will serve that,” he reasoned as Hermione brought over the steaming goblet.

She did not respond, but waited with an amused sort of look as Severus attempted to sit up. “Yes, you certainly need to regain your strength,” she commented while sitting behind him and propping him up, the usual procedure.

Hermione tipped the goblet into his mouth, to which he coughed just as he had the first time. He had not yet managed to drink it passively. If you don’t need this, then why do you cough from the pain of taking it, Hermione thought ironically.

“I heard that,” Severus replied. Lately Hermione had been letting him enter her mind on occasion, for it was rather comical to see his reactions.

“I know,” she countered with a grin. Severus smirked as he finished his potion, deliberately not coughing, but the smirk faded when he winced from the soreness.

“I will continue to give this to you until you don’t need to pretend it doesn’t hurt,” Hermione stated firmly. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll be back in two hours.” With that, she left him and went into her room to try to sleep a little herself. As she walked across the room to her bed, she stepped on the clothes she had taken off the day she rescued Severus and had hastily thrown on the floor. She jumped back in pain, for she had stepped on the sharp corner of something.

Looking down closer, she saw the crisp corner of an envelope peeking out of her pocket. With a jolt, she dropped to the floor to examine it. I completely forgot, she thought as she looked at the letters addressed to herself and Ginny that she had taken from McGonagall’s office. Ignoring how tired she was, Hermione pulled the letter for her out of its open envelope and began to read Harry’s handwriting:

Dear Hermione,

One down. Everything is going fine, wish you were here. We’re progressing. Don’t worry about us, hope you’re well.

Friends,
Harry and Ron

P.S. We sent a letter to McGonagall about the help we need. If she told you already, we need it the sooner the better.

Hermione folded the letter back up; she was rather disappointed at how brief it was. As she went to put it back in the envelope, she noticed an area on the back of the letter that was off-color. It looks like a poor concealing charm wearing off. Wondering what might be there, Hermione raised her wand above the letter and said, “Specialis Revealo.”

Slowly Ron’s untidy scrawl appeared on the back of the letter. Fluttering with excitement, Hermione read this.

Hermione,

I couldn’t just leave you with that short message, so I hope you get to read this. Harry didn’t want us to put too much in a letter in case it’s intercepted, but I had to tell you this. I even wrote this in the middle of the night, but when I went to mail it, I found Harry doing the same thing with Ginny’s letter. ‘Course, I wish I could have seen what he wrote her.

Anyways, things are getting pretty dangerous on our end. There’ve been a lot of close calls, and honestly I’m getting pretty sick of it. Most of the time we are just stabbing in the dark for our plans and stuff, and we don’t know where anything is; whatever we get is just on a guess. I really thought Harry would know so much more about this than he let on, but turns out that he doesn’t know anything more than I do.

Because we’re in constant danger, I don’t know when I’ll be home, or if I will ever get back. I can’t believe I just wrote that, but it’s true. I haven’t thought about it much – all I’ve been thinking of is you. I miss you so much. Since I don’t know if I’ll come home in one piece or not, I just wanted to let you know that, I mean, in case I never get a chance to say it…. er, I just have to know that you know that I love you, and I always have.

Love,
Ron

P.S. Don’t forget me while I’m gone.

Hermione stopped reading and noticed that tears were brimming over her eyelids and spilling down her face. She rubbed them away and put the letter on top of her dresser, but the tears did not stop falling. She felt horrible, awful, because in all honesty she had forgot him. I even had feelings for him, but what now? Now he’s losing my affections, only to have Snape win them? Ron could never understand…but I don’t even really understand what I’m feeling…. Without knowing she was doing it, Hermione changed into pajamas and got into bed, where she fitfully tried to go to sleep; when she finally succeeded, it was time to give Severus his next potion.

Maybe he doesn’t need much more of it after all, Hermione thought irritably as she got up once again. She walked into the living room much more tired than she had been exiting it two hours prior, and she was completely aware of it. She hadn’t gotten sleep for the past two nights, and none in the day, but reading Ron’s letter seemed to make everything much more difficult – especially thinking about her feelings for Snape.

She went over to Severus and woke him up, not as gentle as she had meant to. When he became awake, out of the corner of her eye Hermione saw him watching her. After ladling the potion into the goblet, she walked to his side, blinking furiously to keep her eyes open.

“Here…,” Hermione handed it to him. He did not take it, but looked harder into her eyes.

”What’s wrong?” Severus asked, noticing her expression.

Hermione rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand before answering, “I’m just really tired. Come on, you need to take this.” She propped him up and poured the potion into his mouth, barely noticing his coughing in her battle to remain awake.

“How much have you slept?”

Hermione did not really hear him; she simply removed herself from the couch and turned around.

“Hermione, how much sleep have you gotten?” Severus asked a little louder.

The sound of her name seemed to snap her back into full consciousness. “What? Oh, um…I don’t know, a few hours maybe,” she replied.

Snape’s eyebrows rose. “Well, you need much more than that. I can’t believe you haven’t been sleeping these last few days! You need to be fully alert to make potions; what if you made a mistake when you were making something for Potter?” His voice was irritated, but he instantly knew that that had upset her. Hermione’s eyes were red, and she started looking everywhere but at him.

“I haven’t felt tired until now,” she shot back, “I just…I….” Hermione did not finish. She could feel his eyes on her face, calculating it.

“You’ve been crying,” Severus spoke quietly, “what’s happened?”

“I have not been crying!” Hermione shrieked, losing some control. She stared into his eyes, but purposely kept him from looking into her thoughts.

He broke their eye contact and resumed glancing over her face. “Hermione, you have tearstains down your cheeks.” Now his voice was gentle, coaxing her to tell him. Hermione hastily wiped them off, and pretended not hear him.

Hermione refused to let Snape know what was really bothering her, but she was losing a grasp on her Occlumency. To make sure he could not read her mind, she turned around so that her back was facing him. This was a sign that she did not want to continue this conversation.

“You get to sleep; I can handle everything without you until morning,” she heard from behind her.

Hermione did not need to be told twice to remove herself from his presence. She rushed into her room and closed the door behind her. The moment that she was alone, she continued to cry, but this time she didn’t really know why. She was crying just to cry. Without bothering to put a silencing charm around her room, she got into bed, fully aware of the fact that Snape could probably hear her. Hermione fell asleep surprisingly fast, making a vow to keep Ron’s letter at the back of her mind until she could sort out exactly how she was feeling about the man on the other side of the wall, the man who was taking notice of each sob that escaped her.

**

Hermione’s eyes opened at 11:15 the next morning. She groggily rolled over, then jumped out of bed when she realized that she had missed 3 potions for Snape, but stopped as she remembered the occurrences of last night. A glance at the dresser told her that the letter had indeed been real, but she wasn’t going to think about it. She hurriedly pulled on her clothes and exited her room.

Snape was lying on the couch, reading the Daily Prophet. Hermione exhaled with relief that he was fine, but immediately went over to administer the Health Potion to him once more, but he put his hand up.

“I’ve already taken it,” he told her calmly.

“But…how?” Hermione wondered aloud. Snape pointed to his wand beside him and rolled his eyes, like it was extremely obvious.

“It was not getting it that was the problem; drinking it proved more difficult,” he absentmindedly massaged his chest as he spoke.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you, I –,“ she started to speak, but Snape cut across her.

“I told you last night, you needed the rest. Besides, I am getting stronger. I’ll be well very soon…how are you?” He asked this last question in a way that told her that she didn’t have to answer if she didn’t want to.

Hermione chose not to answer. Shelooked into the cauldron, and saw that there was only enough for one more gobletful. “There’s not enough left.”

“I won’t need more than a day’s worth. A half-batch should be plenty,” Severus reasoned.

“No,” Hermione replied, “we are out of several ingredients. I’ll need to go to Diagon Alley to replenish our supplies. I should go today.”

“You cannot go there,” said Severus immediately, “surely you knew that?”

“And why can’t I go there?” Hermione asked with a definite edge in her voice, while her hands went to her hips.

“You amaze me sometimes at your lack of common sense,” he said, shaking his head, “the Dark Lord is taking over our world. The Death Eaters are everywhere, and no Order Member is safe on the streets alone. Certainly you’ve wondered why you’ve been kept in the castle?”

Her hesitation lasted for a second. “Because McGonagall wanted me to help you with these potions for Harry and Ron.”

“No, our position was not announced until last week, and you have been kept here since the beginning of the year. You haven’t been reading the Daily Prophet; Death Eaters have infiltrated the Ministry, and there is a search for Muggle-borns. They think that if you can do magic, it’s because you stole your wand, and not because you are magically gifted. And I think I should tell you that Hermione Granger is one of the top priority searches.” As he finished talking, he opened the daily prophet to show her picture with an article about her underneath it. Hermione gasped and took it from him, trying to read it but nothing sank in.

“You’ve been kept here for your own protection, much like myself, but from different sides. The Death Eaters know you were friends with Potter, and he is Undesirable Number 1, therefore you are as good as Undesirable Number 2. They think you have information on what Potter’s up to, not to mention they would all like to finish you off or…ah…use you because you’re Muggle-born.” Hermione shivered at his direction of the word “use.”

“You don’t mean…they wouldn’t…are you joking?” she asked, with a slightly higher voice than usual.

Snape shook his head and looked at the opposite wall, clearly thinking back to another place. “The true Death Eaters are horrible men…they will please themselves in whatever way possible. I have heard them talking at meetings. You are, shall I say, an attractive Muggle-born in their eye and yes, they would not hesitate to use you if they met you – followed by death, I’m sure.”

Hermione’s mouth was open in horror. That’s sick…just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. What kind of people would do such a thing…well, we are talking about Voldemort’s followers here.

“Well put,” Severus commented to her thoughts, folding up his paper.

“Wait, you haven’t contributed to those conversations, have you?” Hermione asked, seriously considering whether she really wanted to hear the answer or not.

Snape opened up his mouth, then closed it. For the time being, he skirted her question. “We shall think of something to do about the ingredients, but for now I really am fine. Actually, I believe it is just a matter of strengthening the muscles that have not been in use for days.”

He proceeded to sit up, a little difficultly, and then stood up. Severus wavered on the spot, and Hermione rushed to his side to support him. She wrapped her arm around his waist as she did when she first helped him, and let him put a little weight on her. “Thank you,” he murmured.

He attempted to walk, with Hermione aiding him. She walked with him three times around the room, but by the fourth time, Severus could walk by himself. Afterwards, however, he sat back down on the couch, breathing deeply.

“I can live with becoming more easily winded in exchange for moving independently,” Snape commented as his shortness of breath receded. “It’s time for lunch now,” he flicked his wand and two trays of food appeared on the table, “and afterwards I believe we should start the lessons.”

Hermione ate as fast as she could, eager to learn Legilimency for the first time, but she did not too easily forget his silence when she asked him if he took part in those conversations.



All right, I hoped you all liked this chapter, for it was immensely difficult to write, personally speaking. You know the drill, here's my feedback thread, please reply to this fic! The next chapter is written, I'm just waiting for you to get curious enough to post it (evil grin). No, I'm just joking. It'll be up in a few days. Enjoy reading!

*drhpluvr4l

Before I start this one, I have to say that I'm sort of using an instance from DH in a memory, but not directly. You'll see what I mean when you read it, but I wouldn't read it if you don't want to know anything about the last book. The credit goes to J.K. Rowling, as usual, and her brilliant mind. Happy readings!



Chapter 11

Hermione finished her meal and sat up straight, waiting for Snape to eat his. Whether he was done or simply aware of her eagerness, Severus cleared his plate moments after she did. He waved his wand and all the furniture, including the ones they were sitting on, moved to one side of the room. Hermione smiled as they landed quite gracefully.

Severus held out his arm, motioning for her to take a position in the clear space that he just created. She did as he indicated, and patiently waited while he stood up and made his way to where she was standing.

“Now, we shall begin with Occlumency.”

“Occlumency?” Hermione repeated “I thought you said you’d be teaching me Legilimency.”

Severus rose one eyebrow in his effort not to make a snide comment. “Yes, I said that, but you’ve forgotten that I’ve also told you that we shall start with Occlumency. It is true that you are accomplished for being self-taught, but every time you’ve practiced it against me, I’ve not been using my full concentration. I am very gifted at Legilimency, but the Dark Lord is better; you must learn to keep me out of your mind properly if you ever wish to attempt Occlumency on the Dark Lord, but we shall hope that that shall never have to occur.”

Hermione blinked. She already knew all of this, but she decided not to say anything, partially because she was a little irritated that she wasn’t learning Legilimency right now, which she had so been looking forward to.

“We shall only do this today if you are good at it,” Severus continued, “and then we shall indeed progress to Legilimency, but first we must do this. You know the principles of Occlumency well, do you not?”

Hermione nodded.

“Then you know that you must cleanse yourself of all emotion, and keep your mind empty. Let’s begin.”

Hermione’s eyes widened very slightly at his last sentence and prepared herself as quickly as she could. Ok, nothingness, no emotion…I can’t let him see the letter from Ron, so I have to keep that far from my mind. Empty it…empty…can’t let him see that –

“Legilimens!”

She wasn’t ready; she had been thinking so much about keeping him from seeing the letter that she left another part of her mind completely open and defenseless. It hit Hermione so hard that she might have staggered backwards, but she couldn’t see anything around her; all she could see were her many thoughts and dreams floating across her line of vision – her thoughts and dreams about her feelings for Snape – and now they were entering his mind. She watched helplessly, trying to gain control, as they flashed before her eyes; she was mortified that he was seeing them. Fight it…fight it… “NO!”

The spell was lifted. When Hermione blinked several times, she saw her arms outstretched before her and her fingers bent, as if she had been trying to grasp her memories before they reached the man on the other side of the room. She had fallen to the floor, and her knee was throbbing from the sharp contact it made off the ground. Terrified of what she’d see, she rose her eyes to Severus.

He was wearing a very curious expression indeed. His head was tilted very slightly to the side in interest, his brow was furrowed, and his lips were parted, like he waned to say something. But none of this was what embarrassed Hermione; it was his eyes. They were sparklingly black, but not in a way that was identifiable. She didn’t know if it was curiosity, or anger, or even embarrassment. The longer she held his gaze, the more furiously red her cheeks became until she had to break it and stare at the floor.

“I…,” Hermione wanted to say something, anything; something that would let him know that it wasn’t true, but it was. Her mouth simply opened and closed like a fish out of water. I can’t believe he just saw that…I can’t believe he knows…, these phrases kept replaying over and over inside her head; the pressure was too immense.

Hermione couldn't be in the presence of Severus while he was simply standing over her like that. She turned to get up, but then she heard quick footsteps and felt a hand on her shoulder. Her heart beating like mad, she turned around to see Severus, his face still unreadable yet gentle.

“It’s all right. It’s my fault,” his voice was low, “I shouldn’t have gone so hard your first time. Please, let’s try again.” Hermione stared up into his face and knew that he was truly sorry. It seemed like he understood her embarrassment and didn’t want to cause her any more. She didn't know how she knew this, it was something like obvious even though he did not speak. Nonetheless, Hermione was a little hesitant in doing it again.

Not waiting for an answer, he took her hand and pulled her back up into her position. Severus let go of her hand (but the heat from it, Hermione noticed, did not fade) and took his place at the end of the room. “Now, I know you can do this; you just weren’t concentrating. Focus…and…Legilimens!”

This time Hermione was ready. Her mind was empty of all thoughts, and it felt like a shield that she had constructed in her head which Severus could not penetrate. He lifted the spell and she smiled.

“Good,” he nodded. “Once more…Legilimens!”

Hermione saw him move his wand in a more complicated wave, and knew that this was going to be more difficult. She cleared herself of emotion and waited for the infiltration to begin. This time, it felt more forceful, but Hermione knew it was coming, so she was successful in keeping it out.

When she felt the pressure release, she knew that Snape had admitted defeat. She looked at his face and a sort of bemused expression lay upon it before he spoke. “You are a very able in this field of magic. Now, I think we could start Legilimency, if you wish.”

Hermione nodded vigorously, but did not speak. Her voice did not seem to be working properly, as her heart was still in her throat from their humiliating first session.

“As you know, Legilimency is a precise art that can sometimes take years to perfect. It is the process of using your mind to invade another’s, and manipulating it to let you see what you are searching for. You can use it to extract feelings,” he paused here and cleared his throat, to which Hermione’s embarrassment refolded, “thoughts, or memories.”

“It can be easy, in the case that the other mind is completely open to you, or it may be very difficult if said person can perform Occlumency satisfactorily. When two people are skilled in Legilimency, it becomes possible to converse by thought, rather than simply picking out the information you want out of the other person’s head. You need to very strongly want to learn something from my mind; you must want to become one with me, and only by doing that will you be able to accomplish this.

“Concentrate your being on your mind becoming one with mine, and say very clearly, ‘Legilimens’ with your wand pointed at me. Do not lose eye contact.”

Like wanting to become one with him is going to be difficult…she thought with a small smirk at her bold thought. She simply concentrated on her longing to be with him, her strong feelings toward him, raised her wand and said, “Legilimens!”

It was an amazing feeling. She felt like she had the power to see anything in his past, for memories were zooming past her, quite clear. She could see bits of a childhood Snape talking to a red-haired girl, and a young Snape cowering from a drunken man who had the same nose and was aiming a punch, but then her eyes fell upon a teenage Snape walking with a young woman with Harry’s green eyes.

Harry’s mother? Severus…and Lily?

Without having to ask it to, this memory expanded, and it became motion. Lily was talking about hating James, and Severus had a pleased, almost hungry look in his eye while he watched her.

Suddenly the memory flew away from her and she found herself standing over Severus, who was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. At first glance he seemed angry, but Hermione could tell that he was trying to control it.

“That was…very impressive for your first attempt. I did not resist much, but nonetheless you delved…farther than I could control.” Severus was resentful in this last statement.

“Was…was that your father in the second memory?” Hermione asked quietly.

Severus’s head whipped upwards at her words. With heavy bitterness in his voice, he replied, “Yes.”

“W-what happened?” Hermione decided to try her luck.

“That-“ every word he said was slow and had a heavy weight upon it, “is – of – no – concern – to – you.”

Hermione knew that he said that to end the discussion, but she had to know. “Were you friend’s with Harry’s mother?”

His lip curled frighteningly. “Lily Evans, never ‘Harry Potter’s mother’.” His tone was menacing when he said Potter, but Hermione was burning with curiosity.

“Why have you never told – “

“Enough,” Severus cut her off very forcefully. She knew that she had gone too far. “You did well. Try again.” He gave this last order in a way which showed that he was daring her to search for those memories, but upsetting him further was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

Hermione knew before she did it that he was going to use Occlumency this time. “Legilimens!” she said clearly and attempted to enter his mind, but held back slightly, afraid of seeing what he didn’t want her to. It took her more effort, more concentration, but she still could see images. This time they were quite blurry, and she could not see anything specific. She lifted her spell herself this time.

Severus’s eyebrows were raised.

“You held back.”

“And?” Hermione replied. How did he know I held back…can he sense that?

“Yes, I can, so don’t,” he stated after flitting into her head. Hermione knew that he was becoming more irritated the longer they worked at this, “otherwise we will not know how strong you are in this magic.” He abruptly flicked his wand at the wall and a door appeared within it, opening up to his penseive. He put his wand to his temple, drew out several strands of the liquid-gas and deposited them into the basin. Once he had done this, he stood up to his full height in front of her and commanded, “Again.”

Hermione wanted to prove herself more than anything, but she didn’t want to anger Severus, for she knew him to have a temper – her thirst to prove herself to him outweighed her hesitance. “Legilimens!”

She said it so strongly that she could literally feel the pressure of her power pressing heavily against the back of her eyes – she couldn’t imagine what this must feel on Severus’s end. She was concentrating so fully on becoming one with his mind that every memory of his was crystal clear and moving so rapidly that it almost made her sick to watch, but everything was sinking in – she could remember every bit of his life that flashed before, quickly as they had come.

“Ah!!” Hermione broke the connection with a sharp gasp of pain, but it sounded like it echoed across the room. It felt as though someone had stuck a knife into temple and out the other side of her head. She found herself on the ground once more, holding the side of her head and breathing deeply.

Hermione looked to where Snape had been standing and saw him in her identical position but on the other side of the room. It seemed like he felt the same pain that she did, and the echo had been his outburst as well. He shook his head as if to clear it, got up shakily and knelt beside Hermione.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking from one pupil of hers to the other to make sure they were equal.

Hermione nodded, but the pain had now simply subsided to a prolonged ache. “What happened?”

Severus looked at her for several moments before answering. “I’ve heard of it happening…but never thought it truly possible. It appears as though the concentration to become one mind was reciprocated on both ends, and it opened the memories like…nothing I’ve experienced before.”

He wished to become one mind also, the voice in Hermione’s head said excitedly, but this was too important not to pay full attention.

“Wait, you saw my memories, too?” she asked.

“Yes, but I’m sure you saw much more than I. Am I mistaken?”

She shook her head. “I saw everything, every memory that you had, and I took them all in.”

He did a small double take. “You heard the contents of each memory? Did you will them to come to you?”

Hermione thought about it, but she wasn’t sure if her answer was adequate to what happened or not. “I don’t know. I didn’t will them to open in front of me like the first time, and yet, I heard everything. I,” she paused, screwing up her face in concentration, “It feels like I’m holding your memories and thoughts in my head like they are mine.”

Severus rose an eyebrow. There was something in his demeanor that betrayed the fact that he was deliberately not mentioning something; about what, she wasn’t quite sure yet. When he saw Hermione noticing this, he immediately changed his expression to one of pure curiosity. “Could you tell me the name of my neighbors from the memory when I was hiding in the bushes as a boy?” he asked, testing if what she said was true.

She decided that later she would read up on Legilimency, and see if she could figure out what he was deciding not to tell her. But to keep him from suspecting her suspicions, Hermione closed her eyes and searched for the instance he was talking about. It came quickly, and Hermione watched it.

“Tuney and Lily…wait that’s not Harry’s Aunt Petunia, is it? Of course! Your neighbors were the Evans!”

This time both of Snape’s eyebrows seemed to reach his hairline. “You know everything?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, not quite everything…,” he let his eyes linger on the penseive. “But this is remarkable. Who was that boy from the playground?”

At first, Hermione had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but then she remembered that Severus had also seen several of her memories. She racked her brain for her own memory, and finally found it. Of course, that was the time when I was ten that Gregory Latch pulled my hair until I gave him my new yo-yo.

“Er…that was Gregory Latch. He had wanted my yo-yo.”

Severus smirked at the mention of a yo-yo, the likes of which he had never heard before and therefore sounded rather amusing. “A yo-yo?”

“It’s this toy that muggle children play with. It’s this sort of ball on the end of a string that you wrap the string around, then let go, and keep going until it loses momentum.”

For the first time Hermione had heard it, Severus actually laughed – a real, mirthful laugh. Hermione smiled, for it was a nice sound to hear. “And that is amusing?” he asked her once he had stopped laughing, but he was wearing a charming smile. Hermione liked it; it made him look years younger.

From the way she had described it, Hermione noticed, it did seem extremely simplistic compared to the magical toys that wizard children play with. She began to laugh, too, and couldn’t stop for a long time. When she finally stopped, she saw that Severus was still smiling and staring at her with a very amused expression.

“You know, you should smile more often, Severus. Not a smirk or a sneer, but the real smile that you’re giving me right now. It makes you look very handsome,” Hermione boldly stated, got up, and started making a list of the needed ingredients at the desk across the room.

Every time that Hermione chose to peek a look at Severus, he was staring at the floor as if reminiscing, all the while wearing an echo of the smile that she had so quickly grown fond of.



Yay!! It's finally up! Now that it's posted, I'd better get feedback from everybody that begged for this, haha, because I woke up early to post it. The next chapter is under construction, and shall be up in a few days. I think I'm going to go back to bed now and dream about the end for chapter 12.... Please leave your feedback here. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 12

Hermione awoke the next morning in a very good mood. She couldn’t put a finger on it, but she knew something good was going to happen today. She was going over the events of their last afternoon in her head, noting certain points like a video she was replaying. Hermione was unbelievably thankful that Severus did not mention what he found out in his little excursion into her mind, whether he was skirting the subject to save her from further embarrassment or save himself from it, she was amazed at the presence of his tact which she didn’t know he had.

She suddenly remembered with a jolt that she now had some of Severus’s memories in her head, how could I have forgotten? She closed her eyes eagerly in an attempt to call some of them to her recollection, but as she did so the pain in her temple hit her with a bang. She did not really remember it going away – perhaps it lessened enough that it hadn’t bothered her – but not now. She gasped with surprise and put her hand to her head. Slowly, very slowly as she emptied her mind, the pain subsided. Shaking her head to be sure it was clear, she got up, dressed, and entered the main room. Severus was leaning over a potion he had just finished, examining it.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly but absentmindedly rubbing her temples, “any news in the Prophet?”

He took his eyes off his potion to rest upon her. “Nothing but the usual.”

Hermione placed her hands at her side at his questioning glance, walked over to stand beside him, and stared into the cauldron. “What are you –“ she was about to ask him what he was making, but she stopped herself, for she already knew what it was. Polyjuice Potion.

“I’m going to take some of this today and get the ingredients from Diagon Alley. You were correct, we are in dire need of replenishing,” he told her.

“Why can’t I go?”

He eyed her carefully. “Because we can’t risk you being caught.”

“Oh, but we can risk you getting caught?” she replied, defiance on each word.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, in fact.”

“Why? That’s completely one-sided!”

“So…you’re telling me that you’d rather be caught by Death Eaters, killed and let me go free rather than have me be captured?”

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it. “Yes, in fact,” she answered in a mock imitation of Severus. “And besides, who is talking about getting killed? I’ll take some Polyjuice Potion, run to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and be back before anyone knows I’d gone.”

He exhaled in a very irritated way. “You do not understand. When McGonagall told me that you would be coming here, she also told me that it would be my unfortunate responsibility to make sure you are safe. So, you are not going.”

Hermione crossed her arms and sat on the couch, very annoyed. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to go badly, maybe it was because she hadn’t left the castle in so long. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be kept a watch on.

Severus snorted in amusement. He had seen that thought, and apparently thought otherwise.

“Teach me to do that,” Hermione said abruptly. He looked at her quizzically, not understanding.

“Teach me how to see your thoughts without a wand, and flit in and out of your mind all the time,” she explained. She wanted him to understand what it felt like, for she had a feeling that he had never experienced it. Most of the time, Hermione liked it, but not when he did it while she’s thinking something she didn’t want to share with him.

Severus stared at her for a couple seconds. “I don’t know if that could be taught exactly; I learned on my own.”

She made her face to look as determined as she could.

He sighed, “Fine, but if you cannot accomplish it, I’ll have done all I can do.” He crossed the room and sat beside her on the couch, breathing rather heavily from standing for so long. “Eye contact is essential. You must try to keep your mind very open, and you still must concentrate on wanting to make your mind one with mine, perhaps more than before. Once you feel that you are holding some sort of connection…attempt to enter my mind by using yours.”

Hermione thought that these directions were rather vague, but she tried. She kept her mind as open as she could, and let her being want to become one with Severus’s. Too easy, she thought as she did that step. She was staring into his deep, dark eyes, and they seemed to work like a window between her mind and his. I definitely have the connection. She attempted the last step, to enter his mind, and let herself be led into his thoughts.

It was a wonderful feeling; she felt as if she really was one with him. Her mind was his, and she was in a very blissful state. She could clearly see Severus in front of her, but at the same time, Hermione could see something that resembled the night sky surrounding her, each star actually a thought to explore. Before she could choose one, a single thought read across her line of vision, and spoke in Severus’s voice, but all the while her vision was unobstructed and she heard only the silence of the pleasant darkness around her.

You are doing extremely well. Now let go of the connection, either by looking away or breaking it mentally.

Hermione did not like the sound of the second choice, so she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was back to her normal surroundings, and Severus was smirking.

“I have never seen anyone grasp this concept so quickly and accurately,” he commented, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are a very extraordinary witch, and gifted in this magic.”

Hermione smiled her thanks, for he usually does not compliment other people, and Hermione somehow knew that it was not easy for him.

“Could you tell me how to project my thoughts, like you just did, while I’m in that connection?” she asked eagerly, hungry for more.

Severus repositioned himself besides her so that his whole body was facing her. “Do what you did before, but this time hold your concentration on the thought you wish to project. Try.”

Before Hermione started her Legilimency, she glanced down and saw that his knee was touching her leg. This small contact sent shivers up and down her spine (though it was strange that it was a warm shiver), and she knew that this time it would work better than before. Hermione let her feelings take over and become one with his, and before she knew it she was in that pleasurable state of mind (literally). Once she could feel the connection, she put all her concentration into a single thought, Can you hear me?

The moment that she felt it, it sounded through her mind like she had spoke it, and the part of her that could still perfectly see the room she was sitting in noticed Severus’s eyes widen. Just as quickly as they expanded, his eyes became their usual, though sparkling a bit more. She immediately heard his low voice echo through her head, while at the same time she heard nothing. It was a very strange sensation.

Yes, but it is not referred to as ‘hearing.’ We are on a connection of an intellectual bond, where neither sight, hearing, nor voice is reality. The more proper phrase would be ‘can you sense me?’ for that is what our minds are doing – sensing each other.

Hermione was sure that she blushed, for it irritated her whenever she did not know something and it had to be explained to her. It made her feel ignorant, even though she hadn’t been able to find any books in the library on Legilimency, so she had every right not to know about it.

Understandable.

This thought came from Severus, and Hermione broke off the connection in confusion. He stared at her in an amused way because of her obvious bewilderment.

“Severus, how could you respond to my thoughts that last time? It wasn’t a concrete thought, but more like a line of subconscious thinking.” She was sure that steam could have erupted from her ears when she saw the look of laziness on Severus's face. He was enjoying knowing about something she did not, but Hermione did not appreciate it in the least.

“Because, all you have to do is search. Not all thoughts come through like you’re sensing now. I’m projecting straight-forwardly because this is your first time at this. Once you are used to the sensation, you can probe farther in. The mind is complicated and has many levels that even its owner usual doesn’t know exists,” he explained, idly twirling his wand on his fingers.

“But that sensation that I’m getting, do you feel the same? With the darkness and the star-like objects floating around? To me, that doesn’t seem normal. Am I wrong?”

Severus opened his mouth and closed it again. Hermione again got the distinct feeling that he was keeping something to himself, though it did not occur to her to use Legilimency to find out what that was. He addressed her questions with some hesitancy, “That is an interesting account, and no, I do not sense what you are sensing. It is…unconventional, but it may be that…the inner workings of your mind are composed differently than mine.” Hermione felt that this was a fair explanation, but it did not seem whole. She couldn’t describe it.

“Regardless of the oddities of your mentality, you are undoubtedly skilled at Legilimency. You will need practice to become used to it, though.” Hermione nodded. He got up from the couch and went over to the desk to look over the list of ingredients.

Hermione was very proud of her accomplishments in the past ten minutes, so she had a very smug face as she sat back on the couch with nothing to do but peruse the memories that she hadn’t been able to get a hold of quite yet. The moment she delved into her mind to reach them, the throbbing hit her head with such forcefulness that she made an audible noise of pain and shock. Severus’s head whipped up from his workplace, and saw that Hermione was clutching her head.

He rushed over to her (ignoring his shortness of breath) and held her head in his hands, while he performed strong Legilimency. Hermione felt the darkness envelope her, but this time the stars, for lack of a better word, were whipping around her, making her extremely dizzy. Hermione knew that something was wrong, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes, shutting out Severus. The stars were gone, but there were bursts of light on the inside of her eyelids, like she had been hit over the head.

She was aware of Severus getting up, performing a complicated spell over her and conjuring a large bottle. He was muttering some incantation as he raised his wand to her temple and extracted memory after memory. Hermione’s pain lessened with each loss of a strand of thoughts. She had never extracted a memory before – it felt like a pressure she didn’t know existed was removing itself from her brain. After about 30 repetitions, Severus sealed the bottle, with some difficulty, and placed it in her hands.

Hermione opened her eyes and focused them upon Severus. His eyes were showing some emotion that she had never seen in them before…something like guilt.

“How do you feel?” he asked, not looking her directly in the eye.

“Fine now. Thank you, what did you do?” she asked thankfully.

“How often have you felt this pain, besides the first time?” asked Severus, ifnoring her question.

“Er…twice I think. Every time I tried to recall a memory. What did you do?” Hermione repeated.

“I removed memories and put them in that bottle in place of a Penseive, for you do not have one.” Hermione seemed to notice the bottle for the first time, and placed it on the side table.

“But…why?”

This time he looked her in the eye. “Because you had too much for your head to hold. Your Legilimency yesterday was like none I’ve ever seen, how you took in every memory. I did not give a second thought to it, but we should have extracted the memories that instant. It is very dangerous to possess memories not your own besides in a Penseive, especially many of them. I did not truly understand how many of my memories you held…you could have died.”

It all made sense now. Hermione had indeed read about magical injuries and in the large chapter about the brain, there was something small written in a footnote about the extreme risk you are in if you harbor someone else’s mind in your own, which was basically what she had done. Oh, I see, he thinks it’s his fault because he didn’t empty my mind as soon as he knew I felt the pain. It was by no means his fault, in Hermione’s opinion, because he indeed saved her now.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” she said, and whatever she saw in Severus’s eyes was gone with a blink. He did not reply. “Well, we’ll need to find something else to do with these memories, since it’s not safe to keep them all in that bottle.”

“I’m aware of that, but that’s the best we can do right now,” he snapped back. Hermione kept a smile off her face, but with difficulty. She knew that he thought her annoying when she made a know-it-all statement; he always had, even as a first year, and that did not change now.

“Rest,” he commanded. “I’ll continue the list of ingredients I’ll get later tonight.”

“You mean, the list that I’ll be getting later.”

“No, I mean the list that I’ll be getting,” retorted Severus in a very final way. Hermione did not respond. I have all day to argue.

The rest of the morning past pleasantly, and most of the time was spent with both Hermione and Severus resting on chairs reading. Hermione found herself looking over the rim of her book repeatedly to glance at him without being able to stop herself, and she noticed very quickly that he read just like she did – she would reread certain phrases that made an impact on her, and check the page number to refer back to it. After possibly the tenth time, Severus spoke.

“If you must watch me while I read, I’ll begin to charge a fee for each minute. That way, I could acquire enough pocket money to sustain my retirement,” he drawled from behind his book, not looking up at her. Hermione fought down a laugh, for he was proving to be actually comical the longer she spent with him, and she didn’t want to seem like she was hanging on his every ironic statement. Her face slightly heated, she closed the book and got up.

Hermione entered her room, found Ginny’s letter in the pocket of those shorts (meanwhile deliberately not looking at her own letter), and pocketed it in the robes she was now wearing. Walking out to the main room, she reached the doorknob to the corridor outside, and looked back. Severus had glanced up at her for a fraction of a second, but pretended that he hadn’t. Surely he wants to know where I’m going, she thought, but he was purposely not acknowledging her.

With a rush of boldness, Hermione faced Severus completely, and entered the wonderful world of thoughts. Probing silently into his mind, it was plain as day - he didn’t want her to know that he cared where she went, so he pretended that he didn’t. Hermione extracted herself from his private thoughts and smirked, satisfied by what she had “sensed.” The moment that she stopped her subtle Legilimency, Severus’s eyes snapped up to hers. They fought a silent war with the stare between them, but that was also obvious; Severus did not like someone else hearing his thoughts, though it was perfectly fine for him to know hers.

“And you say it’s the Gryffindors have pride,” Hermione smirked, shaking her head. “You did say I should practice.” With those words, she left the room.

Hermione somewhat liked being bold with Severus Snape. He was so not used to it, that she saw it as a sort of learning experience for him, though she was sure that feeling was not mutual. Nonetheless, Hermione could sense something else there beneath his hard shell that he had put up around her, and it was creeping through because secretly, Hermione thought, he was intrigued by her.

Putting those thoughts aside, Hermione made her way up to the Library, hoping to kill two birds with one stone and talk to Ginny while she was there. To her luck, she spotted Ginny going down the stairs that Hermione was about to move up.

“Ginny! Hey, Ginny!” she called. Ginny looked up, and immediately rushed up to her friend.

“Hermione! I was just about to come down and see you! Where’ve you been?” she asked hurriedly.

“Where’ve I been?” Hermione didn’t understand. She looked around for students as she whispered, “You know where I’ve been.”

“No, I mean where’ve you been for the past 4 days?! I heard that you just left that meeting so abruptly, and no one has seen or heard from you since. What happened?”

Hermione hesitated, but it was long enough for Ginny to notice. Ginny was smarter than most people gave her credit for; she could see through whatever lie Hermione was about to tell her, just like on the day when she came so close to finding out about Severus.

“Ginny…you know I trust you, but –“

“That’s just it, Hermione! You’ve been keeping things from me, I know it, and I know there’re about,” she too paused to look around for students, and decided on wording it, “that man. So why don’t we skip this, and you just tell me what’s been up with you?”

Hermione could see the defiant daggers shooting in Ginny’s eyes and knew that she was in a losing battle. Beckoning her to follow, she made her way to the library with Ginny on her tail, all the while planning out just what she should say.

Once they got there, Hermione requested entrance to the Restricted Section from Madam Pince, for there were never any other students there (not to mention she could do what she left to do). Madam Pince nodded stiffly; even though Hermione and Ginny were now allowed access to the Restricted Section, she resented that fact.

Once they entered and sat themselves at a table in the far back, Ginny leaned over the table, waiting for Hermione to begin what she knew would be an interesting story.



Here's chapter 12! Sorry that this was sort of a more laid back chapter, but it's in the next several that important things begin to happen, so don't worry. Chapter 13 will soon be completed and posted. Meanwhile, please please please leave a comment on my feedback thread, and I'll get back to you later. Happy reading!

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 13

“OK, Ginny, before I start, you must promise not to tell anyone…especially McGonagall,” she stopped at Ginny’s skeptical look. “If it were up to me I would tell McGonagall, but that’s not my choice….”

Ginny promised, and Hermione broke into the story of finding Severus in the forest (leaving out the part about their conversation about his allegiance afterwards, for she didn’t want to betray Severus’s trust on that matter quite yet), taking care of him, and the Legilimency lessons (here leaving out her strange form of Legilimency that Severus had commented on).

When she had finished, Ginny’s mouth was hanging open. Hermione jokingly shut it with her wand. “It really wasn’t that bad,” she commented.

Ginny’s eyes opened wider. “It really wasn’t that bad?! You found him bleeding to death in the forest, and you haven’t told McGonagall?”

Hermione sighed. “Ginny, I already explained this. Severus didn’t want me to tell her. I don’t know why.”

“And why do you keep calling him that?”

“Calling him what?”

“Severus,” Ginny said it with such a sugar-sweet relish on her voice that Hermione did not like. She could feel herself blushing. “It’s disgusting! He’s not Severus, he’s Snape, the professor, murderer, and git!”

Hermione really couldn't stand how Ginny was talking about him. She wished so deeply that she could explain it all to her, but she was held back. Why can’t she just understand?

“Listen, Ginny –“

“You should ask dear Severus why he won’t let you tell McGonagall. I know she’d want to know.”

Hermione ignored this completely and changed the subject, strongly wishing that she had never told her what had happened that week. She pulled out the letter from her pocket and handed it to Ginny.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The letter from Harry and Ron.” At these words, Ginny sprung upon the letter, hungrily reading it. From upside down, Hermione could tell that it said the same thing hers did. Ginny’s face fell.

“That’s it?” Hermione could tell that Ginny had wanted very deeply to hear something special from Harry. She took the letter from her, turned it over, and whispered, “Specialis Revealo.” Sure enough, Harry’s squashed writing appeared before them.

Ginny read it faster than she had read the first message, taking in every word. When she had finished, the anger was gone from her, and she looked a little happier, but worried.

“How did you know to do that?” she asked.

Hermione shrugged. I’m certainly not telling her about Ron’s note. Changing the subject again before Ginny could object, she asked, “How’s Dennis?”

“You tell me; hasn’t Severus,” she paused, moving her tongue around her mouth in a way that suggested she had eaten something that tasted horrible, “made that memory extraction potion yet like he was supposed to?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. I forgot to tell him to make that! He’ll be furious. Ginny laughed at her friend’s face.

“Calm down, I’m just kidding. Dennis told me all that he knew yesterday; well, I sort of persuaded him,” Ginny stopped and smirked in a mischievous way. Hermione decided that she didn’t want to know as long as he spilled the details to her. “He said that when he wandered into the forest, someone grabbed him and Apparated him to a room with the Death Eaters and Voldemort in it. Someone performed the Cruciatus curse on him, and then he heard Voldemort yelling at one of the Death Eaters. Finally he pointed to Dennis, and that was the last he remembered. That’s when he must have been possessed. Oh, and Dennis is back to normal.” Ginny stopped talking and smiled, clearly proud of her accomplishment.

She grinned encouragingly to Ginny, but Hermione knew that she understood the situation much more than Ginny. Voldemort had been yelling at Severus for not giving him the Draught of Discovery, which was indeed a very brave thing to do. Severus can’t stall for much longer; I hope that we can think of something to do before he must turn over the Draught. She realized that she had been spacing out in thought, so she snapped back to normal.

“So how’s your assignment going?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, I already turned in my findings.”

Hermione honestly hadn’t been watching the time much lately, so this surprised her. “It’s been ten days already?”

“Of course! Aren’t you getting along with your potions?” asked Ginny.

“Yes, yes, it’s just…there have been other things going on,” she replied. Ginny was beginning to show signs of suspicion that were making Hermione feel nervous. “Er…we need to go to Diagon Alley today to get ingredients,” she said hastily.

“We? As in…you and Snape?” she asked, shocked. By the look on her face, it was apparent that Ginny had known about the true reason for confinement, but she had failed to mention it to her before. Ginny bit her lip, then started spilling, “Hermione, I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but –“

“I already know. I want to go regardless, and I’m trying to find some way since Sev- Snape,” she caught herself, not wanting to see Ginny’s disgusted face again, “doesn’t want me to.”

“Hmm…,” Ginny’s cunning gears were spinning. “I would use a charm to change your appearance. How can he argue with that? I mean, no one would recognize you, and –“

“And small transfiguration charms like that don’t have a time limit, so time wouldn’t run out like Polyjuice Potion! That’s perfect.” Hermione became very glad again that she had Ginny as a friend.

Ginny looked at the clock on the wall. “Hey, I’ve gotta run. McGonagall wanted to tell me something. Actually, she said that you should know, too. Wanna come?”

Hermione declined, and made Ginny swear to come back immediately and tell her what McGonagall had wanted. Definitely suspicious now, Ginny left the library with a small half-hearted wave back at her. Hermione sighed, glad that she could do what she came to the library for.

Eager for information, Hermione skimmed the spines of the books on the shelves of the Restricted section for “Legilimency”, for she knew there were no books on it in the normal section, and for some reason Hermione was positive that she would find all the answers she needed in a good book. Not to mention, she might be able to find out what Severus was holding back.

Hmmm…, Hermione thought after 15 minutes of looking at every book, none of them about Legilimency. Suddenly inspiration struck. “Accio Legilimency books!” she whispered excitedly, willing them to come to her.

Slowly, a great silver book emerged from an unknown place that Hermione must have over looked and floated gently into her open hands. It was old, but it looked as though possibly only two people had opened it in all the years it had called this library a home. The words Legilimency: the Complete Art were embroidered fantastically in scarlet against the slightly faded silver background. Hermione gingerly set it down on the table and opened it, while lovingly caressing the cover. My, she did love books.

The author was anonymous, and there was no index, so Hermione simply started to read. Hours went by…or maybe minutes, for Hermione was never quite sure how much time passed while she read because she was completely unaware of her surroundings. It was thoroughly interesting; even though she knew all about the basic concept, she was blindly unaware of how many varieties of Legilimency there were.

Finally, Hermione reached something that held her spellbound, for it described just what had apparently happened to her and Severus yesterday and today. She read it hungrily, but still took in every word:

“There is but one more form of Legilimency, ye only very few people have ever been able to accomplish it, and this author has only heard one account of this brilliant magic. It traces back to the beginning of time, and the most ancient and rudimentary magic; sadly, though however fundamental this magic is, its truest form is difficult to find, and those that happen to come across it almost never know its full potential .”

Hermione paused, so eager that she had to stop herself to calm down. She began to read slower:

“In the account above mentioned, the wizard described a state of mind-over-matter when Legilimency was performed. All opposing thoughts were not only seen, but understood and held. He could not describe how the physical make-up appeared, for he soon died after the author’s questioning. It is well-known that death is certain for anyone holding another’s mind in their own for an extended length of time, but this is precisely what this type of Legilimency can access. As mentioned on page 138, it is possible to form a rather crude connection between minds with Legilimency, and communicate with thought. By using this rare method, the connection may become permanent if the wizard so chooses. Some call this manner of Legilimency dark magic, but they are mistaken; on the contrary, it is quite the opposite. The only wizard who can retrieve this form of a connection is one who knows the magic but does not wish to abuse it, one who shares it with the object of Legilimency. Many dream of this power, but do not recognize it because of its simplicity. The one who can accomplish this form of Legilimency feels, and embraces, the ancient power of love with the recipient.”

Hermione stopped completely, and reread the last sentence. No, that can’t be right. She backed up and read two sentences preceding it. It was indeed correct. The recipient…that would be Severus if I am the one performing Legilimency. Her mind slowly fitting it all together, she read the next paragraph with such haste that she was finished in about 10 seconds.

“Love is the type of magic that can bind, and binding minds is its easiest form; consequently this Legilimency is based upon love alone. Unfortunately, the few people who experience reciprocated love cannot perform adequate Legilimency, and therefore this tool goes unused. The only person, or shall we say persons because both are involved, who can reach this level of a connection must be skilled at Legilimency and already have a connection of love between them. This concept has been disputed, but it has been proven that both persons must have love for each other, no matter how dormant, subconscious, or denied that love may be, in order for this to occur.”

She closed the book immediately, for she had the last paragraph in her head already, and was dissecting it. There must already be a connection of love between them…no matter how dormant, subconscious, or denied that love may be…. Everything was in a blur. Hermione couldn’t believe it. She knew that she liked Severus, and it was very possible that she might love him deep down, but if what this book said was true, then Severus loved her, even if he didn’t know it or want to believe it. Hermione got up very slowly, and picked up the book. She had to ask Severus about this, ask if he knew all along, and that was what he hadn’t been telling her.

Hermione found herself walking down towards the dungeons without knowing how she had gotten there. She felt numb; she wanted to feel happy, but she refused to for fear of being let down, and falling down from this would mean a very hard hit at the bottom. She was holding the book close to her, and her footsteps seemed to echo very loudly down to the secret entrance to their rooms.

As she reached out her hand to open the door, she got a sudden impulse not to confront Severus about this just yet. She wasn’t sure why, but it was a strong feeling, so she decided to heed to it. She charmed the book to shrink and put it in her cloak pocket. Slightly nervous for no good reason, she opened the door.

Severus was magically clearing a tray of food that he had just eaten. He did not look at her as she walked in, and Hermione had a small hunch why.

“Hi, er…I was out talking to Ginny Weasley. How long have I been gone?” she asked quietly.

“Two and a half hours. You were talking to that girl for two and a half hours?” he replied, raising his eyes to perform Legilimency, clearly not believing her, but she was certainly not going to let him see what she really had been doing (though she wasn’t sure why; she was simply trusting her woman’s intuition). She didn’t let him see how surprised she was as to how long she had been gone, either, for she had no idea.

When he realized that his efforts were futile, he scowled and put his eyes back down to his now clear table space and conjured the Daily Prophet to finish reading it. It was obvious, or at least it appeared that way to Hermione, that he was angry that she had left for so long, for there was nothing else for him to do but sit and wait for her to return, and he did not much like that as the only alternative. Hermione realized suddenly why it was so obvious – the book had mentioned something about a constant connection being kept – she was simply using the subtle connection that was between them; she was understanding him. Hermione wished very much to know whether or not he knew what was happening, but Severus probably wouldn’t take kindly to Legilimency right now.

“Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, honestly.”

Severus looked up at her again, and seemed to deem this last statement true, but he still did not speak.

“Er…if it’s all right with you, I would like to go to Diagon Alley right now. Look,” Hermione said very fast, and raised her wand to her head. With several flicks and a nonverbal spell, she transformed her hair to become straight and blond, her nose to slightly elongate, her eyes to turn blue, and several freckles to blemish her face. She conjured a mirror, and gazed into it, pleased at how different she appeared.

“See? No one will recognize me.”

He appeared to be thinking it over, and he was again giving off the impression that he did not care what Hermione did, but she could see through it. In one sudden movement, he performed silent Legilimency that she was not ready for, and saw that last thought of hers – how she could see through the act he was putting on.

“Go,” Severus commanded in anger. “Go to Diagon Alley, and do not return until you have everything!” His tone was frightening, and Hermione gladly grabbed her traveling cloak, her purse with her Galleons from her room, and Apparated to Diagon Alley. The last thing she saw was his scowl as he turned away from her and she disappeared.

After the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube, which Hermione was actually starting to like, she appeared in Diagon Alley, next to Flourish and Blotts. Hermione gasped in surprise; it was so different. There were very few people on the street, and those that were walking were practically running with their cloaks tight around their faces. Several shops were boarded up, including Ollivander’s, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream. She could see a group of people up ahead that were talking and laughing – Death Eaters. Severus was right…they are taking over.

Shivering and pulling her cloak tighter around herself, she put her hood up and hurriedly walked in imitation of the other people on the street. Within minutes, she found herself at the entrance to the Apothecary. She kept her hood up as she ignored the horrible smell and set about to collecting everything on the list. After only about 20 minutes, she had found everything on the paper and had bought the items from the extremely jumpy clerk.

Proud of her achievement, Hermione exited the shop and double-checked to make sure she had everything. With a sudden burst of disappointment, she noticed Severus’s scrawl on the back listing a few more things, such as acromantula venom and giant’s saliva, which she knew would only be found in Knockturn Alley because of the sinister potions you could make from them. Hermione sighed and walked towards the entrance to the Alley.

She did not enter, just stood there for a moment, peering into it. She had only been there once, in sixth year, to enter Borgin and Burkes; the clerk had been less than inviting. It was very dangerous to go into Diagon Alley alone, especially now, but Hermione remembered the look on Severus’s face when he told her not to come back unless she had everything. Surely he didn’t remember that I had to come to Knockturn Alley to do so…right? Hermione couldn’t answer her own question, and decided to just do it; Severus probably thought that she wouldn’t go in the Alley, therefore leaving him pleased not to let her return because she hadn’t been able to perform the task he set to her.

Hermione got a stroke of determination, and began to walk down the dark Knockturn Alley. Very quickly she realized that this was a bad decision, seeing as how she had no idea where an apothecary was down here, and there were people lurking in each corner she passed. Not out of fear, but out of good judgment of her own safety, Hermione turned around and began to walk back up to Diagon Alley. She was just about there when from out of nowhere someone yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Hermione was immediately frozen. She fell to the ground, now terrified.

She watched with wide blue eyes as four Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, picked her up, and pulled her into a corner of the street. They leaned her against the wall of a building and stared quizzically at her from behind their masks.

“What do you think, Lucius?” one of them asked brusquely.

Now Hermione could see the blond hair protruding from under one man’s mask – Malfoy. He lit the tip of his wand and stared down at her. “I’ve never seen this one down here before, and she smells like a Mudblood. Actually, she resembles….”

Lucius stopped talking, comprehension dawning. He waved his wand across her face and said, “Concealus Terminado.” If Hermione could have widened her eyes any more, she would have; he was performing the only spell which could remove her transfigured features. Slowly she felt her hair and nose changing shape, and she knew her eyes and freckles were also adjusting. To her surprise, as this occurred, the freezing spell lessened on her head, making it so she could move it and speak.

Hermione immediately began to whip her head around to keep them from looking at her, and she started yelling for help. “Silencio, you little Mudblood,” another Death Eater said, and she fell silent, but she continued to move. “Malley, did you lift that spell?”

The one performing the Petrificus Totalus shrugged stupidly, and Hermione thought he might have done it accidentally from the shock of seeing her appearance change. Hermione figured he must be a new recruit, but she also thought he looked exceptionally stupid.

The fourth Death Eater grabbed her hair and tugged upwards, holding her head still. Hermione felt tears spring in her eyes from the pain he had ensued.

“So, it’s the Mudblood Granger down Knockturn Alley! Imagine how the Dark Lord will reward us for delivering her to him!” Lucius exclaimed in excitement.

“It’s not very smart to go wandering alone,” the one she recognized as Avery whispered threateningly to her and then laughed along with the others.

“Should we take her straight to the Dark Lord, or get information out of her now and report later?” the other man asked Lucius.

Lucius smirked. “Good idea, Travers. I’ll let you three have a little…fun with her until she decides to talk, as long as I get to finish her off,” he said silkily, fingering his wand.

The other Death Eaters surrounded her, and Hermione tried with all her might to scream, but the Silencio charm held fast. She desperately did the only thing she could think of, and she went into the world of thought to try to communicate with Severus. Of course, this time there were no stars, only a frightening darkness that was pressing in on Hermione from all sides. She reached out to the man many miles away, but she could see only emptiness where he should have been.



Woot, woot! Ok, that was a big chapter, and full of important things. I hope you all liked it, for it was extremely difficult to write the middle bit. I worked hard on it, so I really would like some feedback and comments. Here's my feedback thread. The next chapter will be up soon!

*drhpluvr4l

Here's the next chapter! I started out the first part a little differently - it's in Severus's point of view, and it backtracks a little bit. I just wanted a slight change of pace. At the first page break, it returns to the present, Hermione's point of view (I just wanted to make that clear). By all means, read on, for this is a very important chapter that I hope you'll all enjoy!



Chapter 14

“Go,” Severus commanded in anger. “Go to Diagon Alley, and do not return until you have everything!” He watched as Hermione left the room and then returned, wearing her cloak and carrying her purse. He met her soft gaze with a hard scowl, and turned around the moment she Apparated so he did not have to hold her stare any longer. Just when she had disappeared, he kicked his chair so that it fell over, but he did not feel the pain that was throbbing in his foot.

He crossed the room and sat on the couch, his scowl remaining.

How dare she…she is bold, annoying, and most of all completely Gryffindor in every aspect.

Severus was fuming for reasons he did not understand.

Just like her. I can’t stand it…I can’t stand her, she’s just like –

He cut that thought off before it consumed it again, like it so many times had. He gradually calmed down the longer he did not think about her. It was stupid, really, how she had such control over his emotions even when she was not around. But maybe she felt the same.

After all, her Legilimency…

He stopped that thought also, for in the last 24 hours he had thought about that possibly even more than his last thought. No, not quite that much, but too often. He couldn’t deny the fact that their Legilimency was…different to say the least. Severus had theories, but the most terrifying one was the most accurate so far. Of course, he had not read up on it, he had heard stories, but Severus was sure that Hermione would be doing research soon. She knew he was keeping something from her, but how could he even possibly broach that subject?

Unthinkable.

Over the days they had spent together, he became aware of the strange warmth he felt when she said things, did certain things. He almost always ignored them, but they were becoming more frequent the more often he felt irritated with her. It was thoroughly perplexing, and Severus wasn’t too fond of the idea. He also noticed how alike they were; that was perhaps the strangest thing. No one was like Severus, he was…different.

More intelligent, more troubled…more misunderstood.

Yet Hermione seemed to understand that and actually didn’t care. He could feel it by the way she talked to him, and how she treated him. She made the appearance that she wanted to understand him. And whether she knew it or not, their actions mirrored each other’s. They were equal – both defiant, bold, and very clever. Severus couldn’t explain how he felt about it. He hadn’t felt that way in a very long time, so it was hard to tell if it really was the same feelings rekindled.

Deep down he knew. Deep down she had to know also, for the Legilimency….

Legilimency….

Severus stopped dead, recollection and a new feeling taking over. He had forgotten the ingredients he needed in Knockturn Alley. In such a stupid moment of uncontrolled anger, he sent her there and he would bet his life that Hermione had gone there. He could almost hear his conscience in the form of her voice, scolding him for his lapse of judgement.

Wait…that was her voice. But from where? He closed his eyes and put himself into the outer world of the mind. Her voice was louder here, and it was pleading. Something was wrong.

With a swish of his cloak, and a curse muttered under his breath, Severus was gone.

**

Severus! Severus…please...!

She knew it was futile, but still she tried. Hermione was trying to block out what was happening around her, to her, for they were terrifying to the greatest extent. Her voice was still silenced, so she could not even scream out loud, but in her mind she was tormented just as much as she was physically. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was in so much pain even though no spell was cast upon her; she had given up hope.

Suddenly she felt very warm, and she knew he was here before she even saw him. With a sound like a gunshot, there was a burst of light and the Death Eaters around her were blown away from her. The spells binding her were broken, and she let out a painful scream as she hugged her cloak around her and fell to the ground.

Severus was walking toward her, wand raised and looking furious as he looked down at the 4 men now beginning to stand up.

“Play along.” Severus’s voice rang through her head. One look at his eyes showed that he was doing some extremely quick thinking.

He walked right up to her and slapped her across the face. Her look of shock was stifled under his gaze, pleading her to understand, before it melting back to the anger it was playing out.

“What didja do that for?” Malley asked thickly and sorely as he approached them.

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do that for?’” Severus spat back. “The Mudblood is mine.”

“Yours?” Lucius questioned suspiciously, “This girl has been on the run from us, she cannot be in your possession.”

Severus arched an eyebrow menacingly. “And I suppose you think you are the only one who could have found her and trapped her?”

Despite his threatening tone, Severus’s breathing was labored from so much activity, seeing as how he was not completely healed just yet.

“Whatchoo breathin’ like tha’ for?” Malley again opened his stupid mouth.

Severus turned slowly to face him and stood up to his full height. Since Malley was rather short, this was intimidating. “You know why I’m breathing like this, you idiot, you watched!” Severus growled through gritted teeth as he ripped open his cloak to show a rather grisly scar across his chest. He swiped his wand across Malley and he fell to the ground, clutching a wound on his cheek.

“Nice patchwork, Snape,” Avery sneered at Severus’s scar, “do that yourself?”

“No,” he replied, raising his wand to Avery. “She did.” He jerked his head in Hermione’s direction, and his words sounded disgusted.

Lucius’s wand was raised to Severus’s face, and there was disbelief etched in every line of his face. “Explain.”

Severus sighed, very irritated. “I tracked her down and found her in hiding. I extracted her memories to give to the Dark Lord, but she does not know where Potter is, so she is of no use to Him. I could not let her go free, so I chose to enslave her. She does what I ask, and as long as she keeps me pleased, then she is not harmed. She tried to escape just now, and she will be greatly punished.” He said the last two words facing Hermione, and if she didn’t know he was lying, she would have been terrified of him.

Lucius stepped up to his full height as well, which matched Severus’s. He had never trusted Severus completely; maybe it was because he had always wished to be favored by the Dark Lord like Severus was, but when Voldemort wasn’t watching, they were as good as enemies.

“You have never been one of us who, ah…abuses Mudbloods. Not at the World Cup nor anywhere else, so why should we believe you would change now?” Lucius sneered.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Severus’s lip was curling in anger.

Lucuis smirked and whispered, “Yes, I suppose I am. We have no proof that you are using the Mudblood for your, ahem, personal benefits, so we can only believe that it’s a lie to keep her from the Dark Lord on behalf of the Order. It’s no secret that you’re a double agent, and I believe that this is perfect proof.”

Severus now smirked very menacingly once more and raised both eyebrows. “You think so, Malfoy?” he asked as he turned around to face Hermione.

“Resist me.” Severus’s voice rang through Hermione’s head once more. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up. Pain shot through Hermione’s body, and she cried out. He was holding her forcefully, but she could still feel the warmth emanating from his hands on her skin, and that was the only thing that made her want to fight the unconsciousness that was slowly threatening to overtake her.

At her cry, Severus shook her. He was facing away from the Death Eaters, so only Hermione could see the extremely apologetic look in his eyes as he moved one hand from her arm to her hair. He pulled it upwards to keep her head still.

Another cry of pain escaped her lips, and she became suddenly aware of the tears that were still falling down her face. “Shut up, you stupid girl!” Severus yelled at her, and then he did something that Hermione was not prepared for.

He pressed his mouth very hard against hers; Hermione’s eyes widened in shock. From the outside, it would have looked like an act of cruelty, but Hermione could feel the softness of his lips making an act out of it. Hermione just remembered that she was supposed to resist. She began to kick out, and finally landed one hard in his knee. He stumbled backwards, and Hermione started to run up the alley.

Severus regained himself sooner than she expected, not to mention he had longer legs, so that even when he was limping he caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and turned to face Lucius.

“I do not lie,” Severus spat at him. Only Hermione was close enough to hear his ragged breathing. “Give…my best to the Dark Lord.” He gasped midway through the sentence, struggling to catch his breath. Hermione knew that they had to get out of there, or the whole act would be blown. She took advantage of Severus’s weak moment, and shook him off. Just as she began to run, she tripped on the corner of her cloak and fell to the ground hard.

Her head hit off the cobblestone streets. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was the cruel laughter of the Death Eaters, one of them being Severus.

**

Hermione opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t. Lights popped in her line of vision and she had a tremendous headache; she closed her eyes and moaned involuntarily. She heard footsteps walking toward her and then felt strong arms put her in a sitting position. This brought extreme pain, so Hermione whimpered, to which she heard a soft “shh” shushing her. She became aware of pain all through her body when she felt someone else sit behind her to help her stay sitting up. A steaming goblet was tipped to her mouth, but she resisted it.

“Hermione, drink this,” came the voice of Severus Snape from right behind her. Of course. She succumbed to him, and let him give her the contents of the goblet. Once she had drunk it all, Hermione let her weight fall back upon Severus, who did not get up.

She opened her eyes, and saw his sparkling obsidian eyes looking back down at her upside down. Despite her pain, Hermione smiled at him; he reciprocated it, but only half-heartedly.

“I am so sorry,” he said very low, taking his eyes off her.

She did not understand. He saved me, why should he be sorry?

“Because I sent you there,” Severus said angrily, full of self-disgust, in reply to her thoughts. “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know if you haven’t been….” As he said this last sentence, Hermione heard more emotion on his words than she had ever heard from him before. It was kind, and guilty, and almost fearful all at once. He nodded his head toward her body, which was covered in a blanket.

Hermione followed his gaze to her covered body, lifted up the blanket, and opened her cloak. She gasped to see cuts and bruises all over herself, and her clothes were ripped and torn so parts of her body that she usually covered were revealed. She instantly threw the blanket back over herself and looked back up at Severus, who had become very interested in looking at something across the room.

Hermione closed her eyes and let everything sink in. She had been in shock while it happened, and now it all played out before her eyes. The hopelessness she had felt, the terror, all until Severus appeared. He had saved her indefinitely, regardless of what he had to do to get her out of there. Hermione couldn’t believe how stupid she had been, to go down Knockturn Alley, and look where it got her? It felt like everything was pressing down on her, the horror of it all.

Hermione felt herself shaking, and the tears were coming down harder. Severus had turned back to her, and was looking at her with such compassion that she couldn’t believe it was the same man that had always scowled at her. It was so unreal, all of it…Hermione looked back down at her battered body and very suddenly got up, swaying slightly.

With fumbling fingers, she tied her cloak completely around her and stumbled over to the table, Severus following her, unsure of what she was doing. Hermione didn’t even know why she was moving around – even though it hurt, it seemed better than just lying there helplessly. When she reached the table, she bent over it with her head hung and her hands gripping the sides of it. She let the tears fall, for she felt more controlled in this position. Hermione could hear Severus stop moving behind her, and she knew that he didn’t know what to do.

Very slowly, he extended a hand and placed it on her shoulder, but the moment he did so she began to shake again, so he immediately let go, afraid that he had done the wrong thing. But Hermione was not shaking in fear or anything of the sort; she was so grateful, so unbelievably thankful that he had been there.

Without any warning, Hermione turned around and threw her arms around Severus in a tight embrace. He was shocked, to say the least, but slowly his arms reached around her back and held her close to him. She was still crying, but she distinctly said, “Thank you, Severus,” many times over.

It felt so good, to have those arms around her, and Hermione knew that no one could hurt her here. After many long minutes, she pulled away from him and stared into his eyes, but he looked down.

“Hermione, I’m sorry I had to – “

“No,” she choked out, “no, I didn’t care! Thank you, thank you…if you hadn’t, I don’t think I would have made it as long as I did.”

He met her gaze and held it. “I don’t understand,” he said very quietly.

“Why? You know, don’t you?” He did not answer her, but looked quizzically into her bright, tear stained face.

“Do you mean that you have learned…?”

“Learned of something I wish I had known before, yes.”

“What,” it was barely a question. He wanted to persuade her to tell what she knew, know if she had done the research yet.

“Something that would explain much that has to do with…a certain kind of magic.”

“And this magic…you think you understand why certain things have been happening?”

“Yes, I believe so, but do you know what I think I understand?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, I believe I do.” While neither of them was speaking in full terms, both were fully aware that the other knew what they knew. Hermione smiled a very small smile and knew why she had waited to show him the book – because now…now it was different. Now was a much better time. She slowly reached into her cloak and pulled out the miniature book. She handed it to him.

His eyes were wide as he whispered, “Engorgio,” and the words Legilimency: the Complete Art reflected the light of the room in their full size.

“Did you…where…?” Severus was having a hard time forming complete sentences now. His throat was dry and his heart was beating very fast. Hermione reached out and flipped to the pages that she had so willingly memorized and let him read it. When he had finished, he stared at the last word for a long time before he looked back up at her. He had never seen this book, nor read anything like what it had explained, but he knew it was correct.

“D-did you know?” she asked him quietly. It was difficult for her to speak; her mouth was dry, and her heart was racing. She felt into their connection and knew that he felt the same, but that did nothing but make her a little more nervous.

He swallowed. “Just a guess…nothing like this.”

She paused. “Why…why didn’t you say something before?”

“How could I? What on earth would I say?” Severus was talking faster now. “I had no proof that this was what it truly was. Besides, you are young and…beautiful,” he paused to swallow again, “and I am…well, the idea was less than unlikely.”

He waited for her to say something, but she did not. Hermione was hanging onto every word he said.

“I refused to believe it for fear of….”

“Being let down? Because falling from there would be too hard a hit at the bottom?” she finished for him, barely audible. It was just what she had been afraid of, and his replying gaze showed that she had said it quite accurately. The connection between them was becoming even clearer, and she let him see her thoughts from earlier today, when she had found out the truth about their Legilimency. He smirked and looked away when he found that his thoughts had been the same as hers.

“Severus,” she whispered, her anticipation mounting each second.

He looked back at her. Neither one spoke, just held and embraced the connection that was slowly taking over, and neither objected. Hermione leaned forward, and his arms found their way around her waist. His face moved closer to hers; they were an inch apart, eyes still locked. Hermione felt like she could see into his soul, and he could see hers, but she didn’t mind. His breath was warm, tempting her, tickling her.

They closed their eyes at the same moment, but at said moment, Hermione felt a spark on their connection. Before she could think about it the distance was closed between them and they were one.

His lips were soft, warmer than his breath, and very passionate. Hermione’s hands became entwined in his long hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. It felt like her mind was on fire; not out of literal heat, but from the strength of the connection…the magnitude of the binding force that held their bond. Nonetheless, it was not painful – it felt wonderful.

Severus’s strong arms were wrapped around her, and he tightened his grip so that she was pressed even closer to him. Hermione was aware of the pain in her torso and lower body, but it felt like it was someone else’s body, and moreover she didn’t care. She was elated, happier than she had felt in months. The memories of the day were slipping away as she became lost in a dream, a dream which involved a damsel in distress falling into the loving arms of her knight in shining armor, who just happened to be wearing billowing black robes.



Yayy!!! I love this chapter. And I have to say that the knight in shining armor bit was all workaholic_1231's idea, and I just had to put it in because it was so great, and I hope it makes you guys laugh, too. I really want to know what you think of this chapter, because it was definitely momentous. Leave the feedback here, nad I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

This is the last chapter I will be able to post before I leave tomorrow. I have chapter 15 done, but I'll have no time to put it up until I get back. Sorry!!! Anyways, I'll be writing 16 while I'm gone, and I'll post 15 the moment I reach the computer, haha. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

Ok, before I start there are several things I want to tell you. First, I'm sorry it took so long to post. Second, I'm SO HAPPY about the feedback I got about the last chapter, and I'll be replying to it soon. Also, I'm getting more and more pressed for time, so I'm condensing things. I wanted to have a few chapters between this one and the last for obvious reasons once you read it, but I want to make sure I can post the whole storyline. If you think it's moving too fast, please say so.

One last thing, I'm going sort of non-canon now. Some things in this fic are along with book 7...well, sort of...but I'm definitely making some major changes between the book and my fic here. That's about it, sorry for my rambling - read on!



Chapter 15

They broke apart after what seemed like a year, and Severus was smiling down at her. That’s the kind of smile I like.

“Then I’ll wear it more often,” rang the reply through her head. Hermione smiled and shifted her weight, but easily lost her balance. Severus caught her before she fell, but the smile was gone and he looked very worried.

“Hermione, you really need to lie down. You haven’t eaten all day, have you?” he asked. She shook her head, and now her headache returned; or maybe it had been there the whole time and she just hadn’t realized it – Hermione didn’t know, but it was certainly here now. She stepped towards the couch, but her knees buckled.

I guess I’m not as well as I thought, Hermione thought as she felt Severus pull her up and helped her lie down. She sighed at the small relief she felt when she wasn’t supporting her own weight.

”The healing tonic I gave you should be kicking in soon, but right now I need to mend those cuts,” Severus commented, taking out his wand, but other than that he did not move.

Her brow furrowed, not understanding his hesitance.

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but you are very revealed underneath that cloak,” he muttered, slightly embarrassed, “maybe you should change your clothes first.”

She nodded, and picked her wand up from the side table. “Accio pajamas,” she said and her shorts and camisole came zooming. She was very grateful for his sense of privacy that he was giving her. Severus exited the room while she changed, with great difficulty, but she did it. Her old clothes were bloodstained and looked like tattered rags instead of a shirt and skirt.

Severus returned and saw her looking at her old clothes. The connection between the two of them was stronger now, and he could feel everything she felt. He pointed his wand at the pile of clothes and muttered, “Incendio.” They caught fire, and burned down to ashes, which was completely fine with Hermione. She did not wish to ever see them again.

Aguamenti. Her nonverbal spell set out the flames, and Severus made them disappear with another flick of his wand. Hermione closed her eyes again, for she could feel the potion beginning to work, and it felt strange.

She could feel Severus tracing his wand over cuts on her legs, arms and stomach. When he knelt down to heal her face, he was so close to her that the shivers went down her back again. She opened her eyes and found a tray of food on her lap.

“Eat, you need your strength,” he told her. “Are you in any pain?”

“No,” Hermione replied, “not since the potion started working.”

Severus smirked. “It appears that we are in the same predicament we were in a few days ago, only our roles have switched. Once you eat, I’m sure you’ll want to get some rest, but I will wake you in two hours for more Health Tonic.”

She looked at the cauldron on the desk which was full of the tonic. “Oh, you collected the ingredients, then?”

“Yes,” he said softly. He wanted her to eat, but Hermione was too curious.

“What happened after I blacked out?”

He hesitated. “They started to come towards you, but I stunned them and Disapparated with you. I,” he absentmindedly rubbed his chest, “struggled, but managed to carry you here and start brewing your potion. Other than that I just…waited for you to wake.”

Hermione felt an enormous pang of gratitude when she found out that he had carried her all the way from the forest while he could barely breathe. She expressed this through the connection, and Severus smiled.

“Now that that’s all clear, will you please eat?” Hermione nodded and Severus starting walking toward the desk, but he turned around. “Oh, and,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “I did not mend everything. For some of your injuries, I think it best to wait until you are a little better, and you can do them yourself. I would not dare abuse your privacy after what you’ve just been through.”

Hermione was smiling a very small smile whilst she ate. He was amazing how much he understood her, she never dreamed that a man would have so much courtesy for her personal feelings. Then again, the boys she had grown up alongside were never perfect gentlemen, kind as they were. The moment that she had eaten, Hermione felt very full and suddenly weak, so it was no surprise that she drifted off to sleep as Severus had suggested.

**

Hermione could hear two people whispering; one sounded hysterical, and the other was rude while trying to calm the first. She was between being awake and asleep, so whatever she heard wasn’t making much sense to her.

”Wake her up! Please, you must – “

“No! Hold your tongue, insolent girl, you have no idea what she has – “

“I’m warning you, Snape – “

“Do not speak to me like that, Miss Weasley! You will leave my quarters now!”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to – “

“Whatever it is can wait!”

“NO!” this voice had shrieked and Hermione heard crying. Somewhere in the part of her mind that was awake recognized this to be Ginny. She was fighting with Severus about something…but she was too tired to fully wake just yet.

Hermione heard footsteps approaching her and someone shook her waist in an attempt to wake her up, and she gasped with the sudden pain. She heard Severus grab Ginny and pull her away from her, whispering something in a very threatening tone. Ginny was still crying, and now Hermione chose to open her eyes.

It was a strange scene indeed. Severus was holding tight to Ginny’s wrist, who was trying to get to Hermione. Her face was tear-stained and her hair was a mess. When Ginny saw that Hermione’s eyes were open she gasped and fought harder than ever to free Snape’s grasp.

“Hermione! Hermione, listen to me,” her words were choked out between sobs, but Severus was faster.

”Silencio!” Ginny was silenced. Her glare was one to rival Snape’s as they had a battle of stares. Suddenly Ginny jerked free and ran to the desk where she scribbled something on a scrap of paper, tears falling on it as she wrote. She ran with it to try to give it to Hermione, but again, Severus was faster. He grabbed it from her and read it. His eyes widened ever so slightly and then reduced to slits.

“Come with me,” he commanded, and pulled Ginny rather forcefully into Hermione’s bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

Hermione had been watching all of this in shock, with her mouth slightly open. What on earth is going on? She could hear the both of them speaking in the next room, but not loud enough for her to hear. Apparently Severus had lifted the Silencing Charm to discuss something with Ginny, but Ginny was becoming more hysterical the more they spoke. Finally Severus said something that made Ginny stop dead. She did not say anything for a long time. Then they both exited the room, both stared at Hermione. Ginny’s eyes filled with tears again, and she ran out into the corridor and out of sight.

Hermione was beyond confused. Severus was not looking at her, but at the scrap of paper that he had taken from Ginny.

“Severus?” Hermione’s voice faltered. He looked at her and recomposed his features, making it appear that nothing was wrong, but Hermione knew there was. “Severus, why was Ginny here? Why were you treating her like that?”

He did not answer her. Severus took a goblet and filled it with a Healing Potion, and knelt by Hermione’s side.

“Just drink this.”

“No, tell me what you were discussing!”

He ignored her, blocking her penetration with Occlumency. He propped her up a little, and gave her the goblet. The instant she finished it, the bombardment began.

“Look, I know something happened, so why not save all this time and just tell me?”

Severus sighed. “I am concerned for your well-being. You have been through much today, and I don’t think you can handle anything else until you are completely better.”

Hermione studied his face, and she knew that whatever he wasn’t telling her wasn’t too important to him – but he knew it would be to her. She could tell that he would not tell her, so she tried a different approach.

“Why was Ginny so hysterical?”

No reply.

“Fine then, what have you told her? She must know something was wrong because you wouldn’t let her near me.”

“Yes, she knew something was wrong…I had to tell her the truth.”

Hermione shot into a sitting position a little faster than was smart, and she winced in pain. Severus sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, to help steady her, for Hermione wavered slightly. But soon enough, Hermione exploded.

“The truth? You told Ginny what happened to me today?!” she didn’t think Severus quite understood the seriousness of what just happened. “Ginny can’t keep her mouth shut, she’ll be off to tell McGonagall!”

“I’m aware of your friend’s loose-lipped tendencies,” Severus replied coolly, “but it was in exchange for other information. It’s somewhat obvious, you know. Your bruising is in…unusual places.” He acknowledged her torso and her jaw and neck area; as usual, Severus was right. “Why do you wish to keep McGonagall out of this?”

“The same reason you didn’t want me to tell her about your injuries,” Hermione retorted. Severus had never been clear with her on that fact, but it was a fair argument nonetheless. For her it was just the principle of the thing – she didn’t want McGonagall to think that she couldn’t handle things on her own. “Either way, she’ll know soon.”

“Yes, but believe me, if one of us should be worried about her, it is me.”

No sooner had the words escaped his lips when there was a bang, and Professor McGonagall entered the room looking both furious and very worried. Severus took his arm off of Hermione’s shoulders and got up so fast that it took her a moment to steady herself again.

“SEVERUS!” she exclaimed the moment the door shut. “What in the world were you THINKING?”

“Why is it that no one finds it necessary to knock before they enter my quarters?” Severus muttered darkly.

McGonagall ignored him and walked straight over to Hermione, and began to look her over. Through her gasps at Hermione’s extensive bruising, Hermione noticed a very sad look in the Headmistress’s eyes. She looked rather unkempt, as well.

“Hermione, are you all right?” she spoke very slowly, as if Hermione had a hearing problem.

“Y-yes,” she replied waveringly. “Severus took care of me. I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all.” The moment she said ‘Severus’, McGonagall looked at her suspiciously. From over McGonagall’s shoulder, Hermione saw Severus rub his forehead, and she knew that she shouldn’t have called him that.

“Severus took care of you? The last time I spoke with you, you hardly seemed on terms for using his first-name.” McGonagall was sharp, but not sharp enough for Severus.

“I don’t think the reason you came here was to investigate what she calls me, correct me if I’m wrong,” he drawled.

McGonagall seemed to just remember why she came as well. She stepped up very close to Severus and spoke in a very tight voice, her cheeks flushed in anger, “How dare you…how DARE you send her alone to Knockturn Alley! Look what’s happened! She could have been…she may have been…well, for all I know, she HAS been…and you dare to stand there like that?” She was so angry that she wasn’t forming complete sentences.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “I can dare to stand here however I like. You can see, the girl is all right. And I did not send her -”

“Have you asked her what’s happened? Do you have any idea what has been done to her? Yes, you’ve mended her physical injuries, but –“

“It’s my fault, Minerva,” Hermione’s small voice interrupted. Both of them whipped around to face her, and Severus had an odd expression on his face. “You see, I went without permission, and I had a…a lapse of judgment and I was so stupid as to walk down Knockturn Alley, alone. If S-Snape wouldn’t have come when he did….”

Hermione’s tears refolded. She was again hit with the reality of what had happened, but she wanted to make sure that Severus was not to blame for this. McGonagall rushed over and put her arms around her.

“Here,” McGonagall handed her a handkerchief. She pulled out a bottle out of the pocket of her cloak and began to dab it onto Hermione’s visible bruises, which instantly disappeared. “My, you have every right to cry, what with the events of the day, and…and the news of your friend….” McGonagall sniffled.

Hermione choked. “What?” Severus instantly ran up before she could reply.

“I have not told her yet. I felt that…she has enough to deal with.”

McGonagall bit her lip, clearly distressed that she had revealed something, for Hermione was now in hysterics. “What happened? Who is it? Please, please, I have to know!”

McGonagall pulled Severus away from her and they exchanged a few very hurried, heated words. She left with one backwards glance at Hermione. Severus shut the door and walked very slowly over to Hermione, whose eyes were wide with anticipation.

“Severus, please tell me what’s happened.”

“I think it would be better if you wait just a little longer. You are unstable, emotionally, and I don’t know how this might affect you.”

“You don’t know a thing about how ‘emotionally unstable’ I might be!”

He decided on his retort more carefully. “No, but McGonagall’s unfortunately correct. I haven’t asked you to recount exactly what happened yet. Maybe….”

He trailed off, thinking. Hermione was in no mood to be patient.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe…it would be better if you talked about it before I tell you the news. That way…it would be more like a clean slate if you had, well, a breakdown of sorts.” She looked at him like he was crazy. “No, I know much more about the mind than you do. When there’s too much strain on it, too many things to cope with…you lose control.”

His demeanor had completely changed; his hands were in fists and he was not looking at her. He was staring very fixedly at the wall, like he was in another place. Severus shook his head to regain his composure and walked over to Hermione.

“That’s another thing, why did you jump away from me when she walked in?” Hermione was very upset, in more ways than one.

He did not understand her confusion. “Is that even a question? After everything that has happened, how do you think McGonagall would react to seeing that I was being affectionate?” He had the smallest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “No one can know. When you called me by my first name….”

“I know, I know!” Hermione thought he was blaming her. “It was stupid, I’m sorry!”

Severus clearly did not know what to do with an overemotional woman in the vicinity. He was not sure what would upset her further, but tried his best to calm her down.

“Hermione, everything’s going to be fine; you – “

“What do you mean going to be fine? Why does it have to be kept from me?”

Severus held up his hand to silence her. “Listen to me. A trade; you share with me exactly what happened – don’t look at me like that, it will help you – and I will…I will tell you.”

He was waiting for her consent, but Hermione was weighing the options. She didn’t want him to know what happened…she didn’t want to go through it again, but something her mother used to tell her echoed through her head – Don’t bottle it up. It was a mother thing, to impart some kind of wisdom with their daughter, and this was what happened to stick with Hermione. She knew that Severus was right, but she didn’t really want to give him that satisfaction. She reluctantly decided that she wanted to know too badly not to take him up on his offer. Solemnly, she nodded.

Severus knelt down so that their eyes were level, and then dove into her memories. Hermione watched it with him; she was walking down Knocturn Alley, the Death Eaters grabbed her, they were clawing at her, breaking her down, until he arrived. This was when Severus extracted himself from her private thoughts and looked down. Through their connection, Hermione knew how unbelievably sorry he felt; he still thought it was his fault, and now it was worse because he had seen it. Hermione was purposely not crying; it was difficult, but she wanted Severus to feel that she was not upset with him.

“I do feel a little better now,” Hermione encouraged him, sniffling a bit. Truth be told, she didn’t feel much better at all. He looked up and smirked for a second, in disbelief before it faded. “But you promised me something in return.”

He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper Ginny had written on. He folded it up and handed it to Hermione, who took it like a bomb that might blow up.

“Open it, if you want to know now, but you know that I think that it would be best if you waited.” he murmured. The determined look in her eyes showed him that it was a lost cause. It took a little effort for him to say, “I’m very sorry.”

Hermione had a horrible sense of foreboding, for Severus looked very anxious as he watched her slowly unfold the tear-stained paper. With trembling hands, she read what Ginny had scribbled, and understood her frenzy to inform her. The sobs began to come harder than they had all day long.

Hermione read it out loud, between tears.

“R-ron’s dead?!”



Finally, this chapter's up! I'm eager to hear what you think of it, for it was very different then the last, so please leave me some feedback here. You won't have to wait nearly as long for the next chapter - it's halfway done. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

I just wanted to say that this chapter is in Severus's point of view, and that I use some major quotes from Deathly Hallows in this chapter, so all credit for them goes to JK Rowling. This chapter contains MAJOR SPOILERS in those quotes, so do not read if you haven't read DH. Thanks!



Chapter 16

Severus felt so much pity for Hermione at that moment that it almost physically hurt to watch her cry.

I shouldn’t have shown her, oh that was beyond poor judgment.

He didn’t know what to do, other than comfort her. He pulled her close to him in an embrace and waited, but she did not stop crying. Severus felt extremely awkward, since she was mourning over the boy that he suspected she loved, and he could not really soothe her. He had seen them in his classes and in the halls; the Weasley boy had feelings for Hermione, there was no doubting that. Severus suddenly realized how cruel he had been to him when he was his student. At the time, he thought it had been for being friends with Potter, but he had never felt that way about Hermione who had also been Potter’s friend.

He had let things slip in anger towards her during her school days, certain insults he wished he could take back, but she had been such an annoying child. Severus shook that thought from her head.

She wasn’t annoying, she was a know-it-all. Like I was.

He then realized why he had especially hated Ron Weasley – it was because he had been close to Hermione. But now…now what? Would she mourn for Ron and forget the man that loved her now?

Love…it’s been so long since I could even think that word. But I know how she feels. I can sympathize.

Severus put his hand under Hermione’s chin and lifted it up for her to look at him. He felt so horrible, standing there watching her cry, but when their eyes connected he truly felt how she did. She was angry at herself for not being there, she was frustrated because she had forgotten, and guilty because she had kissed someone else while Ron was dying. But Hermione could see into Severus as well.

She could see how he felt about Ron, and how he felt about her. She knew his fears for what was to come, but she didn’t understand that he had been in her exact position, only worse. Severus wasn’t letting her see that, but looking into her eyes right now, he felt that it was time to share it with someone else…someone else who wouldn’t think any less of him for it.

“Hermione, I want to show you something.”

“W-wait,” she choked. “G-get something f-for me. Go into my r-room and get the letter on the d-dresser.”

Severus nodded and walked into her room, cringing very slightly at the décor. He extended his long fingers and grasped the letter. Curiosity got the better of him as he opened the letter and read the last message Hermione would ever receive from Ron. His grip tightened on it as he finished.

She wants me to know how much he meant to her? She wants to rub it in my face by cherishing these loving words he wrote to her?

Severus did not understand what Hermione was thinking in making him get this letter. Surely she knew he would read it. But regardless, he attempted to mask his feelings, folded up the letter, and walked back into the room.

He handed it to Hermione a little more forcefully than he would have wanted, and immediately went to the desk and began preparing a Calming Draught. If there was anything he was going to do to help, he would choose making a potion over watching her cry over that letter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione notice the edge of the letter, which he had accidentally bent as he refolded it. She knew that he read it, but she only stared at it; she did not read. To Severus’s surprise, Hermione got up very shakily and walked so that she was standing right across from the cauldron he was working over.

”Severus, look at me.” The thought rang through his head. Even through thoughts, her mental voice sounded like it was crying. He did not want to, but obliged. Surprisingly, she pushed the letter into his hand and closed her eyes, taking deep, rattling breaths.

“I f-forgot him, Severus.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but she still could not keep it steady. “I forgot him, and he th-thought all this time that I l-loved him and was waiting for him.” She opened her eyes and stared into his, and all this time she had not stopped crying. Her voice was steadily becoming louder. “He died…he d-died thinking that I was just w-waiting for him to come back! But I w-wasn’t!”

Her head fell down to face the floor, and she was moving her mouth soundlessly, as if it was taking her much effort to form these words. Severus was listening intently, and he was gripping the letter with white knuckles without knowing he was doing it.

“I…I was f-falling in love with s-someone else!” she was very loud now, and almost every word had a sob between them. When she said ‘someone else’, she looked up at Severus. His heart ran faster when he realized that she must mean him, but he said nothing. “And he’ll n-never know! He can never understand, l-like I hoped he c-could…and I can n-never apologize to him! He’ll n-never know how I really f-felt about him…and about y-you…I c-can’t live with that, I CAN’T!”

Hermione lost control completely, shouting the last part of the sentence. She collapsed on the floor before Severus could get around the desk to catch her. He fell to his knees beside her and stared down at her, his heart beating louder than she cried, it seemed to him. She was shaking.

He pulled her up so that she too was on her knees, and he pulled her into his arms. She did not stop shaking, but instead she wrapped her arms fiercely around him, and held him tighter than he thought she could.

“Please…,” she moaned, “I n-need you, Severus, please!”

Severus did not understand what she needed him for. Needed him to be with her, needed him to console her? He reached with his mind into hers, but the connection was dim. He could not see her thoughts.

Oh no….

Severus knew of how shock and depression could sometimes inhibit powers. He himself had gone through exactly what was happening to her, possibly worse, and his powers had greatly suffered from it. It took him several months to regain his skills of Legilimency and Occlumency. Instinct told him that the same was happening to Hermione; it made complete sense. When the initial blow of grief had enveloped him, he had no one to help him. No one until Dumbledore came into the picture, that is. Dumbledore understood his pain and helped him re-learn…re-learn to the point of superiority, to the purpose of such excellence that he could turn a spy and even Voldemort would not be able to penetrate – it was too perfect.

But he could never forget completely. When he was asleep, Severus would sometimes relive again and again…and he could feel his Occlumency fading. In those times he was forced to turn the pain into a joy, something that he had learned to master over and over just like his Legilimency and Occlumency.

But it’s never easy. I’ve always gone it alone; Dumbledore could only help me so much in the process, and I was left to master it quite alone …but she does not have to be.

Severus extracted his thoughts from the past to move them toward the present. He had not realized how much time had passed while they knelt there together, but judging from the yellow steam issuing from the Calming Draught which meant it was completed, it had been around a half an hour. His mind was made up; Severus would do anything he could to help her. After all, their assignment was not yet complete, and (much as he hated to admit it) he needed help.

Severus moved to get up, but Hermione gripped even harder to him. She was so close to him that they could not have fit a piece of paper between them. This was a problem.

“Hermione,” Severus spoke very quietly. She had stopped crying but her eyes were shut tight, as if in effort to block out the world. “Hermione, let go.”

He removed his head from over her shoulder so that his face was directly in front of hers. “Hermione, I’m going to help you, you must let go.” She shook her head violently, and suddenly opened her eyes. They were struggling to focus. Severus again did some quick thinking, and finally thought of something. Before Hermione could do anything, he kissed her tenderly on her lips. Her grip loosened around him as she returned it, freeing his movement. But he did not move; he had so long waited for someone to need him, and now he had found that someone. He could have kissed her for days and she would not have complained. That meant more to him than he could ever show her.

He felt a tear roll from her eyelid, down her cheek, and onto his.

Severus stopped. Those thoughts that had ensued came to an abrupt halt as reality set back in. He could not take advantage of her now, he could never do that, but especially not now. Bringing himself back to his original plan while she was not fiercely wrapped around him, he twisted his torso around so that he could reach up and ladle a gobletful of Calming Draught for her.

With it gripped in his left hand, Severus turned back around to face Hermione, who was now sitting with her head in her hands, tears silently falling. He pulled her hands away and forced her to drink the entire goblet, all the while purposely not looking at her eyes. They were bloodshot and puffy – he so hated staring at such despair. The moment she had swallowed the last drop, her muscles relaxed, she stopped crying. Severus stood up, bent over, and picked her up, finally laying her gently on the couch.

She was awake, but she would not speak. Her eyes were half-closed, but Severus could see them looking at him from beneath her eyelids. Once she was lying silently on the couch, her chest rising and falling gently, Severus realized that Ron’s letter was still in his right hand, rather wrinkled. He had a sudden urge to crumple it, but out of care for Hermione, he placed it on the table. She would probably want to keep it.

Unsure of what to do with himself now, Severus walked towards his bedroom door when he heard a very small, quiet voice behind him.

“Don’t leave.”

He turned around slowly, and saw that Hermione’s eyes were open now. They were reaching out to him, begging him to come back to her. He sighed and walked back over to her. She began to attempt to get into a sitting position, which was difficult because of the Calming Draught, and finally accomplished it. She did not break eye contact with him. Sensing not with Legilimency, but with feelings, that she wanted him to sit beside her, he seated himself between Hermione and the armrest.

Her body relaxed upon his as she leaned against him. Every part of him that was touching her became very warm, and it was that warmth that made him put his arm around her waist. If it was possible, Severus felt her relax even farther at his touch – she really did need him.

I’m here, he thought out to her, but he remembered with her lack of response that she could not sense through thoughts anymore. That is, not until he can re-teach her.

This arrangement was thoroughly comfortable, and he did not wish to break the silence. He knew she would ask soon, though. For some reason, he dreaded it.

The longer she does not question, the longer –

“Severus?”

Her voice broke through his thoughts like a wrecking ball. Ironic, really.

“Yes?” he replied, knowing what she would say before she asked it.

She paused. “How did this happen?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and it broke a little in the middle of her sentence. The Draught kept her calm, but that did not stop her from feeling emotion.

Severus sighed. He did not wish to say anything more to upset her, so choosing his words very carefully, he told her what she needed to know…and only that.

”According to Miss Weasley… he and Potter had found a Horcrux, and they had to destroy it. There was a mistake and…your friend gave himself up for the overall cause. Potter could not stop him.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide when he finished, but he looked away. That was not the complete truth. In order to destroy this particular Horcrux, a certain spell had to be performed while one person held the Horcrux. Ron had attempted the spell, but he had not been able to do it properly. Only someone who could do such advanced magic would be able to destroy it, and you had only one chance. Ron had been killed instantly in the effort, but it was enough to destroy it. Severus could not possibly tell the full story to Hermione; he knew that she would blame herself for not being there…for allowing them to go on without her. In truth, she probably would have been able to perform the spell to perfection, and therefore would have spared the boy his life.

She must never know, Severus vowed. It would hurt her too much.

He brought himself to look into those misery-filled eyes. She was very quiet…a little too quiet for Severus’s liking just now. He knew Hermione was trying to reach him with her mind, but it was futile – that power had been affected. All he saw was that sad emptiness.

But it was then that he remembered what he had wanted to show her in the first place. Severus opened his mouth, but closed it in hesitation. It would be for the best, and he would learn if he could take his own advice – “I know much more about the mind than you do. When there’s too much strain on it, too many things to cope with…you lose control.” He had in fact lost control several times, and it pained him to do so. It only showed weakness. But he had been wrong.

It did not show weakness, it showed that he was only human for still caring. He really did understand how she felt, and it was time that she knew why.

“Hermione, I want to show you something,” his voice broke the silence. She only stared at him, which he returned. It was terrifying – the thought of putting such trust in someone else – but Severus knew it would be for the better. The better for him, and for her. He took her by the hand and helped her get up off the couch. Severus walked her to the secret panel in the wall which housed his pensieve.

He stood in front of it and willed a certain memory to come to the surface. It was him, as a young teenager, talking to Lily Potter. The hesitation was mounting in him – oh, how he wished there could be some other way.

No, do it now.¬

Throwing aside everything he had taught himself over the past 16 years, every wall he had built around himself, Severus grasped Hermione’s hand and fell into his memories. The scene opened upon a younger Severus pleading before Dumbledore on a grassy hill. He was explaining how he heard the prophecy and told what he knew to Voldemort…how he was terrified for Lily’s safety.

“If she means so much to you,” said Dumbledore, “surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy, in exchange for the son?”

“I have – I have asked him –“

“You disgust me,” said Dumbledore, full of contempt. “You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die as long as you have what you want?”

Severus said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

“Hide them all, then,” croaked Severus. “Keep her – them – safe.”

The older Severus chanced a glance at Hermione, who was slowly connecting the dots. But this wasn’t enough. He took her hand again and changed the memory to a much more painful one. Before everything was clear around them, Severus’s heart felt strangely heavy in anticipation of what he would see. He had seen this memory only once since it actually occurred, for it brought him so much grief to do so. The scene cleared, and the older Severus was staring at his younger self, who was making sounds of the utmost grief. Dumbledore was standing over him, waiting for him to speak.

“I thought…you were going…to keep her…safe.”

“She and James put their trust in the wrong person,” said Dumbledore. “Rather like you, Severus. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?”

Snape’s breathing was shallow.

The older Severus remembered how he had fought so hard in Dumbledore’s office not to cry. He did not fully succeed. It was stupid, how weak and vulnerable he had been, yet he could not control himself. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks, and refused to look at Hermione. It was as if it was happening all over again, and his present breathing quickened.

“Her boy survives,” said Dumbledore.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Severus seemed to flick off an irksome fly.

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I’m sure?”

“DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone…dead….”

“Is this remorse Severus?”

“I wish…I wish I were dead.”

“And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.”

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him.

“What – what do you mean?”

“You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.”

“He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone – “

“The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.”

There was a paused, and Severus regained his breathing.

He remembered how painful the thought had been – compensating the loss for the one he loved by protecting the reminder of how she had chosen someone else…and not just anyone else, but Potter. But as Dumbledore had said, if he truly loved Lily Evans, than his way forward was clear.

“Very well. Very well. But never – never tell Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter’s son…I want your word!”

“My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist….”

He looked quickly at Hermione, whose eyes were wide and misty. A single tear brimmed over and fell down her face. She only needed to see one more thing. The scene changed to the same office, but years later….

“But this is touching Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”

“For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!”

A beautiful silver doe emerged from the tip of his wand. It landed gracefully on the office floor, and bounded out the open window into the night. Dumbledore turned to watch it go.

Severus felt as though someone was twisting his heart. He always felt that way when he saw his Patronus. It was the last reminder that he had, but it was the best he could have.

When Dumbledore turned back to face him, his eyes were full of tears.

“After all this time?”

“Always,” said the younger Snape.

The older Severus had had all that he could manage. With a sweeping motion of his wand, he and Hermione found themselves standing back in their quarters. Severus was breathing very slowly and deeply, trying to regain his control. It had been the right decision.

It will help, he kept telling himself as the little seed of doubt grew in the back of his mind. Surely she will understand. Using up all the courage he could muster, Severus once again looked up at Hermione. She was crying silently now, but for what, Severus did not know. He didn’t look at her long enough to see that there was something different in her eyes, and that would have made all the difference.

But he did not look long enough. With the familiar sense of being misunderstood, even by one who he thought surely wouldn’t, Severus removed himself from the room. The last thing he saw as he shut his bedroom door was Hermione’s stricken face.



Awwww! I liked this chapter, and I hope you all did, too. I can't wait to hear your feedback. You know the drill - post feedback here. Technically...I haven't put pen to paper for chapter 17 yet, but I know what I'm going to write. Don't worry, it will be up in a few days. Until next post!

*drhpluvr4l

Before I start, I wanted to say that this chapter is in Hermione's point of view, and it gets a little PG-13, so younger readers read with caution. Thanks!

Chapter 17

Hermione felt completely numb, as if she couldn’t feel anything anymore. So many things were coming at her so fast – she had to sit down. Hermione guided herself to the couch and sat down, but she felt no better. Why had Severus practically run off just then?

He doesn’t understand that I understand him…he doesn’t get it, because it’s new for him – that feeling of trusting someone, she answered herself. Hermione had been crying a moment ago, not for Ron, but for Severus, because it was all made so clear now. The reason he always hated Harry…why he kept to himself so much…why he was afraid to have those kind of feelings again. Severus had loved Lily Potter – and the consequences of that love and the mistakes he had made because of it had shaped him into the man he was today.

Hermione knew that this was big. Not big as in large, but big as in extremely momentous. For Severus to open up to her like that…it proved that he was willing to trust her completely.

Not so completely…, Hermione thought ruefully as she looked at his closed door. She now understood that Severus really did recognize the pain she was now facing, and even more so. He had to live with his mistake for the rest of his life, for it cost Lily her life. Hermione felt more compassion for him than she ever had before. He had been trying to help her, reach out to her; so much that he would show her these memories to ease her grief. But he had misunderstood her tears.

Like I really need him to be upset with me right now, Hermione thought agitatedly as she composed herself as best she could and approached his closed door. She knocked twice, but there was no answer. Hermione had an urge to burst through the door, but she decided that that would be a little too rude.

“Severus?” she asked, purposely keeping her voice from breaking. She needed to be strong for this, she could not break down. “Severus, open the door.” Unsurprisingly, her request yielded nothing in return.

Hermione sighed, and simply began to talk. “I understand, I really do. I don’t know what you thought a moment ago, but I was crying for you, not for R-Ron or anyone else. I never knew about your past before…well, of course not, because you never share anything with anyone. I know how hard it was for you to show me those memories, and I really appreciate it…more than you know. Will you please let me in?” Not as much as a scuffle of feet from inside the door.

“Fine, then I’ll sit here until you come out,” Hermione stated matter-of-factly. She put her back against his door and slid down it, coming to a sitting position at the base of the threshold with her arms crossed. She sat like that for a long time, full of defiance that kept her there. Very slowly, her Calming Draught began to wear off – that alone showed that she had been waiting too long for something that wasn’t coming.

“Severus, let me in or I’m coming in myself!” Hermione shouted. When he did not let her in (big surprise there), Hermione stood up and grabbed the doorknob. It immediately burned her hand like an iron, and she let go with a shriek. Fire in her eyes, Hermione raised her wand. “Bombarda!”

The door exploded open, revealing an absolutely horrid looking Snape in the armchair across from where Hermione now stood. His face was pale and his eyes rather sunken. He was holding a half-empty bottle of red liquid in his hand and was staring at her now-present body with a very cold glare. It was clear that he had been drinking, but he was not yet drunk. His eyes were focused and hard – the gentleness Hermione had seen in them was gone.

“Get out,” Severus said harshly.

“No.”

“GET OUT!” he shouted, raising his wand in the hand not holding the bottle of wine.

Hermione raised hers as well, and they remained in this arrangement for a full minute before Hermione lowered hers.

“Severus, why are you doing this?” her voice was small.

He only stared at her.

“You’ve got it all wrong – I understand what you’re feeling right now…I don’t blame you for what happened to Lily.”

“Do – not,” each syllable he spoke was very loud and heavy with emotion, “say – that – name.”

Hermione could not believe the man in front of her. After what had happened, he dared to fire up at her?

“I have done absolutely nothing to make you angry with me. I don’t understand! I’m the one that just lost someone – me! And you’re sitting here moping and not even trying to sympathize – “

“Not even trying to sympathize?” Severus’s voice became unnaturally quiet, and Hermione was so taken aback by the change that she didn’t speak. “I did what I swore I’d never do, and you are proof to why I swore it in the first place.” He took a drink from the bottle.

Hermione had to reach him somehow – he still didn’t understand. “You’re wrong!” she whispered, trying to put as much feeling into her words as she could. She took a step closer. “You’re wrong…if anyone understands you, it’s me! Don’t you feel it when our minds are together? We’re equals in everything! Intelligence, interests…and now in mourning. Why can’t you just accept that you’re not the only one in the world who feels the way you feel?” Hermione choked on her last sentence and felt those tears re-spilling down her face, the tears she had so tried to hide, but were no match for the fading Calming Draught.

Hermione stared into Severus’s eyes, and tried to reach him with Legilimency. Something was wrong, though; she could not see anything when she delved into his mind. There was nothing there, and she could not penetrate the blackness. She misunderstood her lack of powers for Severus blocking her out of his mind. Abruptly, she walked right up to him and took the bottle from his hands.

She stared at it for a moment, and then smashed it on the floor. Through all of this, Severus did not take his eyes off her; he was thinking very hard, but anything was better than an outburst of rage. Hermione quickly took advantage of his silence and dropped to her knees beside him, ignoring the trail of liquid and glass that was emanating from the broken bottle. He had to understand.

“You know I’m right,” she whispered. Whether she was crying or not, Hermione did not know, for her emotions were coming so readily now. “I think there was another reason that I came here -” Hermione paused, matching the stare Severus was giving her. He was completely unreadable. “-we need each other. I will need your help to get through this, because you’re the only one who understands, and you…you need someone to understand you, be with you, and comfort you. That’s what you’ve been missing and wanting all these years – someone to take the pain away.”

A muscle twitched ever so slightly in Severus’s cheek, which Hermione did not miss. She pushed herself up onto her knees so that she was level with him, but beside him. Hardly believing her own daring, Hermione leant in and whispered into his ear, “I will be that someone for you – just let me.” She was so close to him that she could see the tear that had brimmed over her eyes had touched his face, and was now forming a path down his cheek. Hermione watched it, and the moment it splashed upon his shoulder, everything was a blur.

She was in his arms faster than she remembered getting there, and they were once again one. He was kissing her passionately, and she could feel all the pain and emotion collapsing between them. An invisible barrier amid them gave way, and both of them knew it.

Hermione’s hands became tangled once more in his long hair, and Severus’s arms were brought around the small of her back. He pressed her hard against his body, and the chair he had been sitting on somehow disappeared from the scene. Severus made an involuntary sound, a groan of satisfaction deep in his throat which made Hermione positively tremble. She became aware of a breeze she had not felt before, and realized with a small jolt that it was her bare skin touching that of a shirtless Severus. But in this moment, she did not care. It was then that she closed her eyes and chose to see nothing more, but simply feel with her heart

It felt like he was taking all of her pain from her and changing it into something wonderful, and in return Hermione took on his pain, his years of anguish, and made him forget for this moment in time. She knew that this was true, for she could feel something in Severus that she had never before sensed – elation. His past was being washed away, and the black veil that constantly hid who he really was seemed to fade away. Minutes went by, maybe hours, but Hermione didn’t care. She had been right – he needed her, even if he would never admit it. But in a way…this was admitting…that is, admitting in a way that is not possible by simply sharing memories….

**

Soft. She was lying on something soft, she knew that much. Hermione turned her head and blearily opened her eyes. A pillow. And a blanket. Her semi-conscious mind was not yet connecting the dots. She turned her head the other way, to see a clock which said 10:45. Hermione was a little more awake now, and now it made sense.

A bed. Of course, where else would there be a pillow, blanket, and a clock beside you? It wasn’t her bed, though, because these weren’t her gold and scarlet sheets. She didn’t let that worry her, though, for she was too tired to wake up yet, and she was sure that no one else was in the room. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep when suddenly something clicked.

Hermione jumped straight up into a sitting position, now very much awake. She looked around, and realized that she had never left Severus’s room last night. Did I spend all night here? Hermione didn’t think she had been in here that long…. As she reviewed the passing of time yesterday, she remembered that by the time she had returned from Knockturn Alley, napped once, cried for a very long time, and then sat waiting for Severus to open his door, it would have been rather late by the time she entered his room.

But she didn’t remember falling asleep. What she did recall, however, made her smile to herself as she got out of the bed. It had been so unreal, so much like a night borrowed from someone else’s life, that much of it still was a blur. Hermione didn’t mind.

As she put her feet on the rug beside the bed, Hermione looked for the first time in detail at Severus’s bedroom. He must have fixed the doorway, because it was now intact as opposed to being in bits around the room from Hermione's outburst. His bedroom was not at all what she had been expecting. For one thing, there was no Slytherin green here. The décor was black and, of all things, blood red. This red was on the walls and the rug, while everything else was the deepest ebony. This included the bedspread, the chest of drawers, the nightstand, the sitting chair, and a rather impressive bookcase to her left. It was as filled with books as the one in the main room was. There was even a fireplace in the corner, though it was not lit.

Something about the room made her smirk; perhaps it was because it reflected how much was unknown and unexpected about Severus Snape to the rest of the world. She understood him most, and yet it felt like she had only scraped the surface.

She realized that this room was cooler than the others, despite the fact that there was a fireplace, which always seems to make one feel warmer even if there is no fire. Hermione found that she was rather chilly, and her eyes rested upon a closet door in the corner. She opened it up and, unsurprisingly, found a smattering of black robes. One the back of the door, she found a silk robe, which she readily took off the hook and wrapped around her chilled body. Just as she went to close the door, Hermione saw something in the back of the closet that was, shockingly, not black.

With a backwards look at the closed door to the main room, Hermione pushed back the dark robes to gaze upon a small white smock of a shirt, and a faded brown trench coat that looked as if it would fit Severus now. She got a distinct impression that these clothes were very old. Hermione laughed to herself as she pictured a younger Severus wearing these – the image was so ridiculous.

She rearranged the black cloaks and robes to make it appear as if they had never moved, and Hermione vowed never to mention that she had seen those articles of clothing. Knowing that she must leave his room soon, Hermione closed the closet door and gazed around the perimeter searching for a mirror to look upon her appearance. There was not one mirror in the room.

Now that seems like Severus.

Hermione re-tied the robe around herself and proceeded to the main room. Severus was, of course, brewing a potion at their workplace. He looked up at her and smirked.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she repeated pleasantly.

“Cold?” he asked, very amused as he looked upon her petite frame in his large robe.

“Not anymore,” Hermione laughed, looking down at herself and seeing that the sleeves were several inches too long for her arms. She walked over to Severus and peered into the cauldron. “You’re making…Veritaserum?”

He nodded. Hermione had always wanted to try her hand at making Veritaserum, but she never had the chance. She watched Severus as he added the different ingredients and stirred with such grace that she was sure she could never accomplish it the same. She was reminded of the potions book Harry had had last year – the Half-Blood Prince’s, which, of course, was Severus. That proved that he was much better at potions than she was, for Harry always outperformed her whenever he used the aid of the book. Nonetheless, she wanted very much to help make this potion.

She noticed Severus looking at the longing on her face out of the corner of his eye. He sighed audibly, then smirked.

“Could…could I help?” Hermione asked, trying to keep the childlike excitement out of her voice.

“It must sit for twenty minutes before we continue, but then you may stir it if you so wish,” he replied silkily. She smiled. “But for now, there is something else we must do.”

Hermione did not know what Severus was thinking of. She waited patiently for him to elaborate, but it took him several moments to arrange his words correctly.

“You are going to need extra training in Legilimency,” he started, but she still did not understand.

“What do you mean? I can already do it very well.”

He held her stare and replied in a soft tone, “Then please, demonstrate.”

Hermione almost laughed – this must be a joke of some kind. She had already proved that she could do this better than most, but upon seeing the serious look on Severus’s face, she complied. Hermione stared into his eyes and attempted to sense his thoughts, but none readily came to her. She again could not penetrate the darkness; there were no stars, and that darkness was not solid. It was as if she was staring into a black muggle television screen, but the picture was not working properly. She took herself out of that weak connection and looked questioningly at Severus.

“Why can I suddenly not aptly perform Legilimency?” she asked, slightly dreading the answer.

He sighed and closed his eyes before he spoke. “It is because you have sustained a great emotional blow. When this happens to a witch or wizard…sometimes their powers suffer. I myself went through just what is happening to you – I could not perform Legilimency nor Occlumency, and I had to undergo special training, which I must now give to you.”

He had been expecting Hermione to appear shocked, but she was not. In the back of her mind, Hermione had read about this happening, but she never really thought it would happen to her. She was mistaken.

“How did you relearn?” she asked, a little quieter than usual.

He shifted his weight before answering. “Dumbledore assisted me. I learned the process of how to regain my powers from him, but I was left to actually perform it myself. You, on the other hand, will not be along, and therefore shall probably learn faster.”

There was the faintest hint of tightness in his voice, but not nearly as much as there had been last night. Hermione knew why he had lost his powers – Lily. And understandably, at that, but she was ready to try.

“Could you show me?” asked Hermione, expectance laced on her words.

Severus nodded, and motioned for her to move to the side of the room where she had first learned Legilimency. She walked over and stood in the exact same position, with Severus in front of her, but rather closer than he had been before.

“Now, we’ll begin.”

He took another step closer to her, and extended his hands hesitantly. She was supposed to hold them, obviously, but Hermione didn’t really know if this was part of the process or not. Either way, she felt a little more comfortable.

“What you must do, is turn the pain and suffering you feel into joy, or love in other words. The first step, then, is to return to that place of grief because you obviously are not in it now. That is essential.”

Hermione closed her eyes and remembered all the times she had spent with Ron throughout their years at Hogwarts, all the fun days and hours studying at night, but then she brought her mind to focus on that one moment when she read those horrible words – Ron’s dead – on the tearstained piece of paper that Severus had so unwillingly given her. She did not cry now, but her heart began to ache. Her breathing quickened in her effort to control it.

“Good,” Severus commented as he studied her face. “But do not let these feelings consume you, for if you let them, then these lessons are futile.

“Think of these feelings as those which a dementor brings upon you, and you may realize that they are one in the same. To defeat a dementor, you think of your happiest memory and perform the incantation. The memories that work the best are the ones that are filled with love of some kind. To start, cast a Patronus charm. This will prove if we can move farther.”

Hermione tried to think of her happiest memories with Ron as she focused all of her energy on performing a Patronus. She let go of Severus’s left hand and picked up her wand. Just as she was about to say the incantation, the happy thoughts slithered away into ones that reminded her that she could never again have a new happy memory with Ron.

“Ex- expecto patronum!” she said loudly, but she knew it hadn’t worked. Only a very feeble wisp of silver emitted from her wand tip. She looked at it sadly as it dissipated into nothing.

Severus too had watched her weak attempt at a Patronus, and then focused his eyes upon hers. “You can perform one usually, correct?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’ve never been great at it. Defense Against the Dark Arts was not my best subject,” she replied, but even as she said it, she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Hermione excelled in every subject, no matter what she said.

Severus picked up on that comment and smirked. “Yes, of course, you have .01% less of a grade in that class, I presume.” Hermione replied with a hard glare, but he only smirked further. “I shall do it with you; that can sometimes help.”

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and held it up. Hermione didn’t think this would help her much. Just before she cast it, Hermione again noticed her hand in his, and it was very warm. That warmth seemed to spread up her body and fill her with such admiration for the man in front of her who was trying so hard to help her.

“Expecto Patronum!” Hermione and Severus said together. The arc of his wand mirrored hers, and this time two brilliantly silver figures erupted from both their wands. Hermione’s – an otter, and Severus’s – a doe. Hermione at first was very pleased at her Patronus, and watched it scamper around her, but then her eyes came to rest upon the doe. It was magnificent, and much more beautiful than her Patronus. Severus was watching it with a longing in his eyes as it galloped around him, leaving a trail of silver sparkles. It slowed down and approached Severus, placing its head against his side in a caress like a cat. A flick of his wand, and the silver doe disappeared.

Hermione followed suit, not taking her eyes off his. It seemed unusual that a man with the appearance of Severus had a Patronus that was so feminine, so beautiful. Oh, Hermione remembered the memory he showed her last night. She had not quite understood then, but it was clear now. That must have been Lily’s Patronus.

She did not speak, but waited for him to continue. After a few moments of rather awkward silence, he spoke, but purposely kept a level voice. “Since you can perform a corporeal Patronus in your state of mind, that proves that you can learn this art. The next step is to use the same sort of energy, the same joy but projected in the form of Legilimency. Fill yourself with love, and then attempt as you normally would.”

Hermione did not need much time to become filled with love. It was coursing through her hand into his, and it was filling the space between them. Love was already there, it was simply hiding behind Hermione’s feelings of sadness for Ron. She did her very best to push aside that barrier of unhappiness and let her love for Severus flow through her.

She looked into his eyes and knew that it was working already. It did not take much effort to enter his mind, and when she did, it felt better than when she had done it the first time. The darkness was dark, yes, but it had a new kind of light to it. Hermione could not form it into words. The “stars” were sparkling and, if stars could smile, smiling. Again, Hermione could not explain it.

“There is no need to continue this training; it seems you have already grasped the concept and applied it,” Severus’s voice rang through her head while the silence still held. It was such an odd sensation. Through the haze of thoughts she was in, Hermione could clearly see Severus standing in front of her, with another real smile playing on his lips.

Hermione removed herself from her mind and also smiled. “Did you learn this fast?” she asked.

“No, I did not. But then again, I did not have such a talented teacher to perform it with me,” Severus replied, that too-familiar smirk twitching on the side of his mouth.

“Oh, shut up,” Hermione commented playfully, “and I suppose it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that there was already love here, so I did not have to search for it?”

His eyebrow arched teasingly. “That may have something to do with it.”

Hermione leaned in and placed a soft kiss upon his lips, which he returned. This was very different from last night; it was gentle, tender. Hermione heard something as if from far away, but she did not pay attention to it. Severus stopped for a moment, but he too must have decided that it was probably his imagination.

The noise became louder, it sounded like something hitting against wood, and then Hermione distinctly heard a door open very loudly. Severus tore away from her incredibly fast, but it was too late. She heard a gasp from the open doorway and turned just in time to see red hair whipping out of sight.



Hey! I'm so glad I finally got this chapter up. I'm running behind, and I don't have chapter 8 yet, but as soon as I do I'll get it to you. Leave feedback here. Thanks!

*drhpluvr4l

Ok, this one is in Severus's point of view, and when I start this chapter, I back up a few paragraphs into the last one. Read on!



Chapter 18

“Oh, shut up,” Hermione commented playfully, “and I suppose it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that there was already love here, so I did not have to search for it?”

Severus arched his eyebrows teasingly. “That may have something to do with it.”

He could not take his eyes off her. Severus would not say that about just anyone, and he knew that he was falling in love with her even as he thought it. She slowly leaned in to kiss him; he willingly obliged.

Hermione’s lips were gentle - and even though she was not displaying as much fervor as she did last night, Severus still felt the urge to pull her deeper; as if he were afraid she might get away from him. But he did not. The moment was so effortless, that he could not ruin it. He pressed his lips softly against hers, trying to lose himself as he had done once before.

Severus wondered if he had done the wrong thing last night. Yes, it was true that she did not refuse, but he was worried for her. Being in a relationship with him would not be good for her, and there would be trouble undoubtedly. But last night…!

He had never felt so elated. He had been so desperate for so long and finally someone came to save him. Not save him physically, but same him from himself, from the loneliness he could never depart from. Even Severus did not remember everything that had happened the night before. He did not even know if it had been the wine’s influence or not. But he had felt such passion coursing through him, and her also as he recalled, that nothing else seemed to matter.

While in this reverie of sorts, Severus was sure that he heard something. Hermione did not seem to hear anything, but he had to listen. He paused, but in that millisecond, he heard nothing else, and gladly returned to the dream-like state he now so often found himself in. Another moment, and the same noise came again, but louder this time. Severus knew what is was now – someone was knocking loudly on their door.

Only two other people know that there is in fact a door here, and neither of them can know what lies behind it now.

Just as instinct told Severus to pull away, the door opened. He wrenched himself from Hermione in time to see a look of absolute horror on the face of Ginny Weasley. By the time Hermione too looked at the doorway, Ginny was running.

Severus swore loudly. He didn’t want either McGonagall or Ginny to know about this, but he was sure that Ginny was worse – she would blab anyway, making it at least two more people than necessary knowing of this secret bond between them.

“Get her!” Severus spat, then thought of a faster method. “No, Accio Ginny Weasley!” he pointed his wand out the door and heard a small shriek soon following.

“But…the Summoning Charm does not work on living things!” Hermione exclaimed, looking out the door to see Ginny struggling against an invisible line that was pulling her back.

Severus was focusing all his energy on bringing Ginny into the room. “I can tamper with spells,” he commented through clenched teeth. It was difficult work, to defy such magic, but he had had a sort of knack for it ever since he was a teenager. A tattered copy of Advanced Potion-Making with the words, “Property of the Half-Blood Prince,” flashed across his mind, but he shook it away. Sure enough, within seconds Ginny came closer. She was clutching her stomach as if someone was trying t rip it out of her, and it was obvious that that was where the spell was centered. She was yelling loudly, and yelling very rude things towards Severus at that, but he did not care what she had to say at the moment.

Soon she was pulled into the room, and Severus lifted the spell so he could close the door and lock it. Behind him, Ginny was screaming at Hermione. Severus whipped around to see Hermione’s eyes filling with tears as Ginny berated her ruthlessly with the occasional hand gesture towards him.

Severus would let her yell at him as long as she wanted, but he would not let Ginny upset Hermione. “Silencio!” he shouted over Ginny, and soon she was mouthing wordlessly. She whipped around to face Severus, and he saw that she too looked like she was about to cry. But he did not care.

“Sit,” Severus commanded, but she did not comply. He sighed as he watched her move her arms wildly in attempt to still make her point clear. “Incarcerous,” he pointed his wand at her and invisible ropes bound her so that Ginny had no choice but to sit down.

“S-Severus…if she has something to say, let her say it,” Hermione whispered in a voice higher than her own. With a sideways glance at Hermione, Severus grudgingly lifted the Silencing Charm. The moment he did, Ginny stopped struggling. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes shot daggers at the both of them.

“Let – me – go,” she spat. Each word was slow and filled with such rage that Severus was a little taken aback.

“No. You are only allowed to speak as long as you maintain some form of decorum, which you so far have not been able to accomplish,” Severus told her. He was angry, there was no doubting that.

“I will not!” Ginny shrieked. “And before I say anything to you, lower that wand!” She was referring to Severus, who had his wand raised to her face. He did not move.

Hermione put her hand on his arm, in an attempt to lower it for him, but he did not submit. “Let her speak, I want to hear it, please Severus.” Her voice was tight with emotion, and he had no idea why she would want to be scolded by her best friend, but he nonetheless reluctantly lowered it a few inches.

“Severus?!” Ginny yelled in Hermione’s direction. “So this is the real reason you kept calling him Severus?” She looked from Hermione to Snape in complete disbelief. “Hermione, how could you! How dare you! What about my brother, the one who we all thought you were in love with? So this was what you wanted all along, huh? You were just waiting for Ron to get killed off so you could make it with Snape!” She paused, waiting for a reaction, and in that moment she noticed what Hermione was wearing. “Oh my God, you’re wearing his robe! Did you just throw that on when you heard me knocking so I wouldn’t see what you were really doing in here?” Ginny was aware of how hurtful her words were, but she didn’t care.

Hermione began to mouth soundlessly, as if she couldn’t form words. Severus looked at her, and could feel the pain mounting in Hermione. He raised his wand back up and Ginny looked down at it, then up at his face. She had the look of greatest loathing in her eyes.

“And you!” she shouted at Severus. “Do you know that what you’re doing is illegal? She is a student, and you are an adult! It’s sick, and you will go to Azkaban the moment this gets out, like you should have last year! And put that wand down – we both know you’re not going to curse me.”

Loud-mouthed little demon….

“As long as you continue to upset her like that,” he jerked his head at Hermione, “there is no curse I wouldn’t perform. And gladly.”

Hermione shook her head with her eyes closed. She didn’t want this anymore, she wanted to hide away and never be found – Severus could feel it.

“So it’s true then!” Ginny stared hard at him. “You really care for her! You’re trying to protect her feelings, Snape! I think I’m going to be sick. Wait until I – “

“Listen to me,” Severus cut across her in his most dangerous tone. “This will not get out due to you, do you understand me? If you tell anyone what you have witnessed, rest assured that I will find you. I know you wish to turn me in, but if for nothing else, keep quiet for your friend.” He looked at Hermione, who had opened her eyes, but was staring very blankly as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“What friend?” Ginny spat, glancing for a second at Hermione, then turning away. “No friend of mine would betray trust like that – especially the trust of a friend who died to protect us all from people like you.” She was referring to Severus, whose blood was boiling faster and faster.

In a moment, there was a conversation by thought between Hermione and himself. There was such a connection that it was not even words, just feelings pulling on another. Finally Severus consented.

“Ginny, listen to me. What you think about Severus is not the truth,” Hermione said quietly, looking at Severus for support. He did not want a part in this conversation, though. “I’ll admit that I felt the way you did as soon as Dumbledore died, but when I came to live with him, I learned so much more. He…he is on our side. All along, he had been taking Dumbledore’s orders – even the order to kill him! It was all staged, and he is a spy for us. Honestly.”

Ginny obviously did not want to hear this. “Sure, that’s what he told you, just to get his filthy hands on – “

”Ask McGonagall,” Severus butted in harshly before she could finish that sentence. How he wished he would not have had to speak up on his own behalf, but it looks like he had to. “I gave her my memories of conversations with Dumbledore. That particular order was among them. How do you think I came to be under her protection? Do not be so dim as to assume that she welcomed me with open arms of her own accord.” This last sentence he spoke with more bitterness than he had intended.

Ginny suddenly put on a very smug face. “Fine. I’ll walk up there right now and tell her all about this little get-together. How would that suit you?” He never knew that Ginny was such a spitfire, and he did not appreciate it.

“You will not tell anyone. I’ve already made that clear, and if I were you, I would heed my warning,” Severus sneered. He so wanted to hex her in some way, but that would only cause more trouble.

“Wait…,” Hermione spoke up. She motioned for Severus to come with her. He obeyed only half-heartedly - not really wishing to lose sight of Ginny - to follow Hermione into the corner of the room.

“What?” he whispered.

She hesitated. “Well, I was just thinking…how long can we hide this?” Her eyes were very shiny – the kind of shiny that came before you cried. Severus sighed.

“What do you mean?” he asked, but Severus already knew exactly what she meant.

“I mean that we cannot literally hide away in the dungeon of the castle, keeping our correlation a secret! One more person already knows, and – “

“And no matter how I threaten her, I doubt she’ll keep her mouth shut,” Severus finished angrily. He wasn’t sure that she knew just what she was suggesting. “But the only other option is to not keep it a secret, which would probably mean death for us both.”

“No, I don’t mean go public or anything, are you mad?” Hermione did not look at him. She was fidgeting with the tie on his robe. “I’m just saying that…well, I think we should let McGonagall know. Ginny will tell her anyway, and I know that McGonagall would not betray us.”

Severus put his hand through his hair in thought. “Your little imp of a friend will definitely tell anyone she can, but I do not know how McGonagall would take it. She would not support it, that is certain. After what happened to you yesterday….” He suddenly felt a stab of self-loathing for so readily welcoming Hermione into his arms after what she had been through. It seemed very indecent and hasty as he looked back in recollection upon all the events of yesterday.

“After what happened to me yesterday…think about it, with Ginny in such a rage she could tell McGonagall that this was, I don’t know, an act of offensiveness by you or something like that. If we tell her ourselves, there will be no confusion,” Hermione rearranged his thoughts. She is probably right, Severus thought as he looked over at Ginny who was eyeing him with such loathing.

“But are you sure that you wish to do this?” he asked in a low voice.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

“I feel such wholeness when I am with you. I know that you feel it too,” her voice rang though his head. “So I need to know now...do you want to try to make this a relationship?” She opened her eyes and stared into his. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second.

“Of course,” he projected towards her. “But only if you are sure you want to go through the things that will come with associating yourself with me. This will transform what everyone thinks of you, as you can already see.” He inclined his head ever-so-slightly towards Ginny, but did not take his eyes off her. “I can never change what people think of me. If you tell anyone else, it will all change because of me. If you are willing to take that risk….” One look told him that she was. He sighed. He still did not think that she understood what she was getting herself into.

“It’s settled then,” Hermione said in a strong voice and immediately walked back over to where Ginny was sitting. “Ginny…,” she had begun to speak, but Ginny turned her head away from her.

Severus strode across the room and stood in front of her, putting a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Why did you come here? It was not to simply knock my door down, I presume.” He had been wondering this since she first entered. Severus had a hunch, but –

“If you must know, I was coming to tell Hermione that Harry would be coming secretly sometime later this week. He’s bringing Ron’s b-body for the funeral; it is supposed to be in about 3 days, and it will be in the castle. That way the guests will be safe, and Harry can attend,” she now turned to look directly at Hermione, staring at her with eyes full of cold tears. Unfortunately, Severu’s guess had been correct. “I was going to say that you could come, and Snape would not be wanted there. But from what I’m looking at now, neither of you will be welcome at this funeral.”

Her final words hit Severus like ice. Actually, he felt it double because he could sense that it had hit Hermione twice as hard. Her face was stricken. Severus had nothing else to say to Ginny, so he lifted the Body-Binding Spell.

“Get out,” he only had to tell her once, and Ginny was gone without a backwards glance. Hermione lowered her face to the floor, and Severus could see her shoulders begin to shake. Like so many times before, he wrapped his arms around her to comfort her. He let her cry into his chest for several moments before it hit him that Ginny was on her way to McGonagall’s office right now.

“Hermione, I’m going to call McGonagall if…if you’re sure…,” he trailed off, searching her face. Severus knew that she was very upset at the outburst of her friend, but she was still determined to stick to what they had decided. “Fine. You need to change into your own clothes before she comes.”

Hermione looked down and seemed to realize for the first time that she was still wearing his robe. That would not look very good if Minerva saw her in it. She went into her bedroom and closed the door, while Severus went over to the fireplace. He grabbed a fistful of Floo powder from the mantle and stood there for a moment.

There’s no going back after this –

He shook the thought from his mind and immediately threw the powder into the fire, making the flames dance emerald green. “McGonagall’s office!” he said clearly and thrust his head in. After the unpleasant sensation of whirling through many grates, his eyes came to rest upon the Headmistress sitting at her desk, perusing over a piece of paper.

“Minerva,” he said loudly to catch her attention. She jumped slightly.

“Oh, Severus, I wish you would not sneak up on me like that,” she replied, rather irritated.

“I assumed that the noise of the embers settling into the arrangement of my face would have been enough to, ah, rouse you from your readings, but I was apparently mistaken,” Severus sneered. How he loved to annoy her, for some reason.

“Yes, yes, what do you want?” McGonagall responded. She hated when he aggravated her, and she was sure that he knew when he was doing it. At this question, Severus was not exactly sure what to say, for he had not prepared anything. The slightest pause was enough for his brilliant mind to come up with something that sounded nonchalant.

“Miss Granger and I would like to speak with you about something. Please come down to our quarters as soon as possible. And…if you happen to run into Miss Weasley, do not concern yourself with her ranting. She just had a row with Miss Granger here, and the both of them are rather out of sorts.”

She nodded her head, but still had a rather suspicious look on her face. “I’ll be right down.” When Severus saw her get up out of her chair, he removed himself from her office and returned to his living room. As he turned around, he saw Hermione sitting on the couch, wearing her own robes, with her hands over her face. She was trying to stop crying.

“Minerva is on her way,” Severus said quietly, walking over to where she sat. “Hermione, everything will be all right. You need to calm down.”

“I c-c-can’t! Not when I know that my best friend h-hates me, and I can’t even go to Ron’s f-funeral!” she mumbled into her hands. Severus sighed as he sat down beside her. He pulled her hands away from her face, and wiped her tears away.

“Look at me. We will figure out something. McGonagall will be here in a few minutes, and I am not going to explain this alone. Please try to keep control – at least until she’s gone,” he said slowly. She nodded her head. He was still holding her hands away from her face, and he felt her lace her fingers between his. Severus might have imagined it, but he thought he felt a small spark when she did this, and he knew that his hand was definitely warmer.

Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her waist. He could tell that she was trying to keep calm, but it was no use. He remembered how it felt, to feel like you had no friends by your side because of a decision. But he had grown more immune to these emotions that were quite new to Hermione. Severus could do nothing for her but wait for her to master them as he did.

He heard echoing footsteps coming closer to their door. Severus braced himself as if for an impact while the doorknob turned and Professor McGonagall stepped into the room.



Yes! Another chapter done and up! I hope you all liked it. Chapter 19 is part-way done, and I'm looking to have it up in a few days. You know the drill, leave your feedback here. I love to hear from you! Thanks!

*drhpluvr4l

This chapter is also in Severus's point of view, only because I had originally put the McGonagall bit in the last chapter, but then this one would have been far too short, and I was too lazy to switch it to Hermione's view. The next one is, though. Also, from here on, the final battle of sorts is going to be non-canon, as well as the steps taken to end it. I say this because some things about it start in this chapter. Hmm, I think that's about it - read on.



Chapter 19

“Severus, I want to know what’s happening, and I want to know now. I did in fact run into Ginny, and she was hysterical! Yelling about how you and…,” she did not finish her sentence, for she was taking notice of the scene in front of her. Severus and Hermione were sitting close to one another, with his arm around her. She was crying on his shoulder, and…no, it couldn’t be…yes, his hand was grasping hers.

McGonagall blanched visibly and shakily took a seat in the armchair across from them. Hermione hastily wiped her eyes and sat up, but did not remove her hand form Severus’s. The warmth from it was keeping her strong.

“What is the meaning of this?” Minerva asked in a very intimidating voice.

Severus opened his mouth, but closed it. He had been hoping that Hermione would have planned something to say, but he was obviously wrong.

“It’s true, then?” she was talking more to herself than to either of the people sitting on the couch. “What Ginny was trying to tell me…?”

“What exactly did Ginny say?” Hermione asked. Her voice was intense with emotion.

“Well…she went on about how you two were…I mean to say, she said that you were, er, romantically involved!” she paused and waited for either of them to speak, but they did not. Both Hermione and Severus were trying to think of something substantial to say in their defense. “Tell me it’s not true.”

Hermione was definitely more emboldened now. “She’s right.” There was a defiance in her voice that flowed through her body, enough that Severus could feel it through their joined hands. This was most unusual.

McGonagall’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “And…what you called me down here for…?” she asked Severus.

“We wanted to speak with you about this before Ginny could. But I’m afraid we’re too late for that,” Hermione answered for him. She was no longer crying, but instead she seemed angry and rather suspicious. Severus did not know why.

“About this? This as in this relationship? You can’t be serious!” Minerva sputtered looking from Hermione to Severus, waiting for one of them to admit that it was a joke.

“Why shouldn’t it be serious?” she shot back.

“Well…,” McGonagall looked a little flustered. “For one thing, your age difference! And another, no one besides those in this room know of Severus’s innocence, and the Death Eaters are after you, so this is just a catastrophe waiting to happen! Lastly, I would think you would have more sense than to jump into something like this just after your friend’s death and what happened to you yesterday!” She paused, the color high on her cheeks. “It makes no sense!”

Hermione’s nostrils flared in a way that rivaled McGonagall. “First of all, age makes no difference, and I pity everyone who thinks of it as a barrier! Second, unless you and Ginny tell anyone that’s not in the Order, I doubt that Voldemort or anyone else will find out about it. There is no reason to let this spread, so why would it? We only told you because of Ginny! And third, Severus was the one who comforted me after I heard about Ron – he was the one who rescued me! And I did not jump into anything; I’ve had these feelings for awhile now.”

McGonagall was stunned, and so was Severus for that matter. Their mental connection was wide open, and he was awed by the sheer power that Hermione was wielding. He didn’t think that she knew just how much power love could exert, but he did. It felt like a current that was connecting them, and he didn’t think that he could let go of her hand, even if he wanted to.

“All right…you just said that you did not want this to spread, and you only told me because of Ginny. Why on earth would you share this with her? She is not the best one to entrust with a secret,” McGonagall replied hotly.

Hermione blushed a little. “We didn’t intend to tell her either. She entered at an…inopportune moment.” McGonagall’s eyes widened as she put a hand to her chest and shook her head with her eyes closed. She did not want to believe it – it was so ridiculous, improbable in her opinion.

“And you said that it makes no sense,” Hermione continued. Now it was her eyes which were shooting daggers. “What part of love makes no sense to you, Minerva?”

At these words, McGonagall jumped up from the chair, and placed her arms on her hips before she spoke. “Love? Love!” It seemed that she could not say anything else at the moment. She paused before staring down at Severus. “You have not said anything since I arrived, Severus. I am having a hard time believing that a man such as yourself would be in love with a young girl!” McGonagall was getting more and more frantic as the conversation went on.

Severus thought very hard about what he was going to say.

“I myself could not believe it at first, but now it’s all very clear. Forgive me, but I really do not wish to go into the details of my feelings with you, Minerva, and I don’t intend to,” he stopped, searching the Headmistress’s face. It was filled with disbelief. “You think this is a joke, do you not? There is proof.”

Her eyebrow arched in a way that resembled Severus very much. He smirked and turned to Hermione, whose brow was furrowed. She did not know what he was talking about either. Severus was banking on the fact that she would understand soon – otherwise this would not work.

“Dumbledore often spoke of love being man’s greatest power. I must say that I never completely believed that in the literal sense until Hermione proved it to me. Love is a power that is pliable and adaptable, though few can master it. Do you see that book on the desk?” he pointed to Legilimency: the Complete Art, the cover shimmering in the light. Minerva eyed it carefully.

“That text explains how love can be used on the mind, to open up a connection of sorts by way of Legilimency. She can perform it to its greatest extent. If that is not proof enough…,” Severus was building up for what he had been wanting to try ever since he learned of the connection. He stood up and pulled Hermione up alongside him. Their fingers were still laced as he picked up her other hand and held it the same way.

“Hermione, we share more than a mental bond. The ancient magic that comes with love has other aspects. Listen to me carefully,” Severus was projecting his thoughts to her. “Close your eyes and feel with your soul. Let love consume you, and do not doubt yourself. It has been progressing ever since Minerva arrived, I know you can feel it going through our joined hands. Trust me.”

Her eyes were wide as she became aware of that strange heat that Severus also felt. She closed her eyes as he had directed, and followed his instructions. He could feel her pulse going through his veins as if it were his own. It was working.

”Now concentrate that love into an energy. It is difficult, but try to focus.”

Everything that he was telling Hermione, Severus was also doing. Hermione was doing well. Severus opened his eyes and glanced for a millisecond at Minerva, who was staring at their hands with an almost anxious look. Severus looked down and saw that little beams of light were emanating from the cracks between their fingers; it was very warm. Hermione too opened her eyes and gasped with awe when she saw what was happening. Severus slowly parted his left hand from her right and could clearly see a little ball of light floating where their hands had been connected. It was magic in its rawest sense.

Hermione let in a sharp intake of breath. He could see her eyes screwing up in concentration, and just as he knew what she was trying to do, she achieved it. The small ball of energy floated upwards, to where Hermione was guiding it. It was hovering above them now, and the entire room became visibly lighter. Severus extended his left hand and re-laced his fingers around hers. The moment their palms connected, the luminous orb shattered, for lack of a better word. Tiny shimmers of light cascaded through the air over the two of them.

It was joy as he had never yet experienced. There was something wonderfully powerful about the bond they shared, and this proved that there was real magic in it. Severus had never seen anything like this in his entire life. The two of them were beaming without knowing it until the very last particle of their magic had dissipated. The moment it did, Severus stopped smiling, for he was breathing rather heavily from the entire effort it had taken, but that small twitch of a smirk on the side of his mouth did not disappear.

He stared down at Hermione, who seemed, from Severus’s point of view, to have grown ten times more beautiful over the past few minutes. Severus could not help himself from staring at her eagerly – he was only a man, after all.

McGonagall coughed as if from somewhere far in the distance. Severus tore his gaze away from Hermione to look at Minerva, who was again sitting down. Honestly, he had forgotten that she was here, and he did his very best to hide his happiness from her. He did not want her to think of him as any less intimidating than he was always attempting to project.

“Where did you learn such magic?” Minerva asked very quietly.

Severus thought back to when he had first learned about it, for it had been many years ago. “I came across a book once that discussed the different magical properties of love. It was when I was young, perhaps 12 or 13, so I did not pay much attention to it. Now that I fully understand the potential of what we share, some of what I read came back to me.”

McGonagall shook her head, something close to awe in her voice. “The prophecy…I mean to say, everything Dumbledore said about the power is literal, then….?”

Something sparked in Hermione’s mind, and therefore in Severus’s as well. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…but he shall have power that the Dark Lord knows not….” Severus fit the pieces of the puzzle together remarkably fast.

We’ve proved that this is real power…and if used for destruction it would probably be the most devastating force of magic possible, even more powerful than Dark magic. Dumbledore had said that that power in Potter was love. This could be it….

He did not know if Hermione had heard his thoughts or not (more than likely she had), but for some reason he did not want to confirm his suspicions. When that brilliantly contented feeling that had surrounded him while the magic was around them fell, Severus felt much less cheerful, almost at an annoyed level because it was gone.

“I do not know, but I do know that you did not come here to decode Dumbledore’s little secrets he may have told Potter,” he said angrily – a little more angrily than he had intended.

Hermione looked up at him a little uncertainly, and then released his hands. She turned to face McGonagall. “Minerva, about the funeral…where will it be held?” she asked quietly.

She was obviously taken aback by such a quick change of subject. “The great hall. The burial will be at another time, to ensure safety. Why do you ask?”

Hermione looked at the ground before answering. Severus knew that she too had felt the happiness collapse miserably. “I – we – are not invited to attend, and I was hoping we could still be present somehow.” Severus blinked. He did not want to go to the funeral by any means, and he knew that if he set foot in the great hall, he would probably be ambushed.

McGonagall sighed, and stared very hard at Hermione. “In choosing to relate with Severus, I am sorry to say that this is probably only the first of such denials you will receive. You should have though of this before you…,” she trailed off, waving her hand in midair in an offhanded way. It was obvious that she thought Hermione had made a very poor choice. “Nonetheless, I do not believe it is Ginny’s job to invite and un-invite people to this funeral. Arthur and Molly will be the judges of that. If by some miracle Ginny fails to inform them of your new relationship,” she said the word with a little more than a hint of condescension, “than I would not see why you would not be welcomed. I doubt that Ginny would raise a scene there if you appeared.”

Severus snorted, raising all eyes to him. He was more than sure that Ginny would “make a scene,” as Minerva so gently put it if either of them came within 100 feet of the Great Hall.

“But under no circumstances,” McGonagall continued, “could you attend, Severus. It would be–“ she stopped when Severus put his hand up.

“I do not wish to grace the entire Order with my presence just yet, thank you,” he said silkily.

“Fine,” Minerva replied as she pulled her robes around herself and headed toward the door. “I have a class starting in 10 minutes and I cannot be late.” She put her hand on the doorknob and turned to face them, the color back in her cheeks. “If you were expecting my approval, I’m afraid you will not receive it now or anytime soon.”

“And who said that we were awaiting your approval?!” Severus spat, angered at the slightly derisive word. “This was only– “

“You will keep this a secret?” Hermione cut across him, to earn herself a glare from Severus. Minerva eyed her carefully before answering.

“I will not tell anyone who does not need to know. That may be no one, or it may be the Order – I don’t know right now. I will honor the fact that you entrusted me with something this private, but I say again…I do not encourage this. In my opinion, you have made a very irrational decision. Good day to you both,” she finished, walked out the door, and slammed it behind her.

Severus swept over to the desk and immediately started back to work on the Veritaserum. He was angry, there was no doubting that.

“Did I not tell you that she would not support this?” Severus scorned. “Did I not warn you that she would tell others?” He looked down and stirred the potion furiously. He should never have let her talk him into exposing this so soon.

Hermione did not say anything. “Severus, are you all right?” she asked softly.

He did not respond. Severus knew why he was acting like this – it had been that magic. It had lifted him to such a level of bliss that when he returned to his normal state, it had been like falling many miles. Hermione, on the other hand, had been happy like that before…and she had never been quite as depressing as the normal for himself was. He was reacting much worse.

“It was wonderful,” Hermione said. She had apparently sensed what he was thinking. “But I suppose it would be normal for you to feel this way.” She took a step closer and examined his face, but he was determinedly not looking at her. He felt Hermione’s hand rest upon his arm, and he stopped stirring.

Honestly, his arm felt much warmer at her touch, and he was sure that a small bit of moroseness evaporated. It felt nice, but Severus did not want to give Hermione the satisfaction of being right, or give her the idea that he was only happy when she was touching him, for that sounded too suggestive on his part (and truthfully the thought rather scared him). But it was true.

Whether from intuition or from being aware of Severus’s feelings, Hermione slid her hand up his arm and placed it around his back, in a sort of one-handed hug. Instantly Severus got the strange sensation that he was thawing out. Yes, he was positive that this time he was more contented. He looked down at her, and her face was so expectant, inviting. Severus sighed at his own slipping of self-restraint, which he had tried for so many years to master. But in the wake of present company….

To hell with it.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. His entire body warmed, and he lost himself in her arms. There was that feeling again – that feeling of complete bliss, and nothing else mattered.

No.

Severus pulled himself from Hermione and turned away. It could not be like this; he could not simply throw himself to her whenever he was feeling a little unhappy. He would need her too much, and in exchange she would be in more danger. She could not become a necessity for him.

But she already was.

“Severus?” he heard Hermione say from behind him. He melted when she said his name, but he couldn’t let her know that. “Severus, turn around. What’s wrong?”

He did not turn to face her, for it would be too much of a distraction. Even when his back was turned their connection held, but he was finding it more difficult to perform Occlumency. This was a very bad thing. Hermione was trying to reach out to him, to understand, but he was struggling to block her just to say that he could. He could not.

Severus whipped around the desk and flipped open the cover of Legilimency: the Complete Art, and flipped to the chapter Hermione had shown him yesterday. There had to be an explanation here. He scanned the pages quickly and finally found what he was looking for.

“…and once the love is complete, magic takes control. One cannot block themselves from another. Occlumency is the art used to keep one from achieving knowledge from one’s mind, used in a sense, for hiding. This ancient love is the opposite, and once it has been mastered, one cannot hold back for said hiding simply because they have chosen to associate themselves with such purity…”

Severus reread it, but it was no different; the truth of it did not change.

In falling in love with Hermione in this way, (Severus had never said that before and thusly his heart seemed to skip a beat) I have set myself up for capture.

He sat down on the armchair, thinking hard. If Voldemort got a hold of him like this…the entire Order would be in jeopardy, everything Dumbledore had trusted him for…Hermione would be in danger.

”Please tell me what’s going on,” Hermione said quietly. She had not moved from where he had resisted her. She knew that something was wrong, for Severus was acting most strangely. In response, he simply nodded his head in the direction of the book. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione gingerly step over to it and began to read. Her eyes widened as she finished.

“ ‘…once the love is complete….’ What does that mean?” her voice grew louder as she took a seat across from him.

Severus thought of both the magic they stupidly performed in front of McGonagall, and last night…. He did not have an answer.

“It does not matter, because it’s obviously done. I cannot perform Occlumency,” Severus spat. Hermione put a hand over her mouth. She did not know that he could not perform it, she had only thought that he was showing this to her as a warning of some kind.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Severus did not say anything in response to that, even though his heart was telling him to tell her that it wasn’t her fault. Despite how much he wanted her at that moment, at the same time he did not and at the same time he could not help but blame her silently. The moment he thought it, Severus felt rather cold. He took it back begrudgingly and that odd feeling disappeared. He did not like the fact that he was having to respond to this strange magic that somehow had a hold of him – he did not like it at all.

“Do you even know how much danger you are in now?” Severus said with more contempt than he wanted.

Hermione looked taken aback. “Well, I….”

“Voldemort will know everything; he will know about you, he’ll know about Potter, and he’ll discover that I’m a spy!” Severus’s voice was getting louder as each moment went by. He knew that he was frightening Hermione, but he did not care.

I’m a danger to everyone.

“No, you’re not!” Hermione responded. “You are just in the middle of things right now. As long as there are no meetings – “

Severus snarled involuntarily and Hermione sprang back with uncertainty. He was gripping his left forearm.

Of all the bloody times…he must know something.

“Speak of the devil himself,” Hermione mumbled angrily. Severus rooted on the spot, though. He had to go, but at the same time, it would be a mistake to put everyone at risk. And the Draught! He had forgotten until just now, but he was sure that the Dark Lord had not.

Severus grimaced with intense decision-making. Hermione seemed to know what he was deciding. “Severus, you have to go! Otherwise, he’ll come and find you and…. Look, I’ll think of something while you’re gone. Take the Draught and go!” she commanded forcefully. He was in no mood to take orders, but for some reason he trusted her. Severus hated to think that he did, but it was true.

With a small groan of defeat, he dived to the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out the bottle of the Draught of Discovery. Still staring at Hermione, who was giving him a sort of painful look of confidence, Severus turned on the spot and disappeared, for what he hoped would not be the last time - if Voldemort found out what was going on, it surely would be.



Leave feedback here.

Thank you for reading, and I'll have the next chapter up in a few days. Thanks!

Just wanted to say that this is Hermione's point of view. I hope you like it, and please forgive me if you deem chapters from here on a little worse than the previous ones. I don't know if they really are, but I do know that I have less and less time to work on them, and when I do get to write them, I feel disconnected and rushed. Please tell me anything like that you might observe in these chapters by feedback. Thanks!



Chapter 20

Hermione was pacing up and down the length of the room with worry. Where was he? Severus had been gone for almost an hour. In that time she had finished the Veritaserum, having much less fun than she had first imagined, and set it to mature for the next moon cycle; she had read through the lines Severus had indicated to her for what felt like 20 times, but she saw no loophole; and she had looked over the list of potions they were supposed to be making for Harry.

She was shocked, upon reading the list, to discover that Severus had marked off every last one besides the Veritaserum, which Hermione crossed off then. She had not realized that they had made them all, but then again, he was almost always up before she was. Hermione knew that this meant that she would no longer have an obligation to stay with Severus. If she stayed, it would be very easy for someone to come to the conclusion that they were involved (for what other reason would she continue to stay with Severus, for he was not the kind of person to invite houseguests?), but she desperately did not wish to leave.

Nor did she think that she could leave. It felt like he was a part of her now, and being away from him simply made her feel disheartened – especially now. She knew that he felt the same. Every time Hermione touched him, his muscles relaxed and something new entered his eyes. She also knew that it scared him; it rather scared her as well. She had been involved with Viktor Krum, but it was nothing, nothing compared to this. This was understanding beyond anything she had ever experienced, and greater love than she could ever hope for.

Hermione was brought back to the situation at hand. Severus had stepped into the ring with the lion just waiting to attack, and they both knew it. She had been working on all the possibilities they could work with. First, if he even came back (but she was purposely avoiding thinking about that problem), they could run. It was childish and stupid, but a fair choice. It’s not like she would not enjoy it, except for the fact that she would be leaving her friends behind.

If Voldemort got information out of Severus, another alternative would be to completely come clean in front of everyone, and beg for them to understand. Tell them about the relationship and Severus’s role as spy. That was a terrifying option, but then the Order would understand why Voldemort now knew devastating secrets about our side.

The last thing that Hermione could think of was something that she wasn’t quite ready to fully plan for. This involved Harry Potter. That one moment earlier today when McGonagall mentioned the prophecy, Hermione thought that they could help Harry with this new power they demonstrated. She sensed that Severus was not saying all that he felt on the matter, but she would bet money that it was something like what she was considering. The prophecy clearly stated that Harry had a power that Voldemort didn’t, and time and time again Dumbledore had said that Voldemort would never understand or have love. This could be the key.

Dumbledore seemed like the kind of man to keep secrets and leave hints behind to help others discover them. What if this was one of them? No, it couldn’t have been, because there was no way he would know that she would fall in love with Severus.

Was there? Hermione shook the thought from her head. Dumbledore had been a mysterious man, and if she couldn’t figure out how his mind worked, no one could, and she wasn’t about to spend time attempting to figure it out. The point was, they had a huge power between them. If she could explain it to Harry, teach him how to use it somehow, Hermione was sure that it would be the last piece of the puzzle – and the prize would be the defeat of Voldemort.

But this was the scariest option by far. She didn’t think that Harry would be able to take hearing about her and Severus, there was no way to determine his reaction. Harry always had a temper, and surely it would be much worse after losing Ron.

Ron…. It was much easier to feel the pain of loss when Severus was not with her. Hermione realized that she had stopped pacing and was now sitting on the chair. The shock was still very real to her, especially now that she might lose Severus, too.

No, I’m not going to think that.

Hermione had willpower, but not enough to keep her mind from straying down that path. The possibility was too great not to consider it. She already lost Ron – Hermione didn’t think she could handle losing anyone else. In fact, she could barely handle this; everything was so much easier when Severus was helping her.

Oh! Hermione suddenly remembered that he had indeed taught her how to regain herself when feeling this miserable. Let it fill you, then perform the Patronus, Hermione recalled. She was pretty sure that it was not necessary to cast the Patronus Charm, but it made her feel better anyway.

Hermione pulled out her wand and said, “Expecto Patronum!” while remembering the happiest thoughts she could. A silver otter sprouted from her wand tip, though it was slightly smaller than before and it did not frolic with quite as much joy. Besides these things, it still made Hermione a little more cheerful to know that she could in fact perform a Patronus without Severus’s help. As she watched it, she felt something in the back of her mind. At first she thought it was that happiness rekindling from the sight of a Patronus, but that wasn’t it.

Severus! He’s here – he’s back! She knew it without knowing how to explain how she knew it. He had just apparated to the forest. Without any second thought, Hermione ran out the door and down the corridors in pursuit of the great oak front doors. She was so elated to know that he was alive that she didn’t even notice that she ran into several younger students on the way to the grounds.

Knowing that she must look ridiculous, Hermione slowed to a very fast walk, headed for the Forbidden Forest. She looked all around for Severus before she remembered that he must be Disillusioned somewhere. Walking very slowly now, so as not to miss him, she came to the edge of the forest. He was still in there, obviously, so Hermione stepped into the dark shadows.

Within minutes, Hermione was far enough in that she needed to light her wand. The moment she was about to, she tripped over something and gasped as she hit the ground hard. Turning over painfully (for it really had hurt), she saw a shining black shoe to her left. As she looked farther up, a hand was extended to help her up. She took it, and found herself face to face with Severus, who was sitting on a large rock.

She gasped with happiness and hugged him almost violently. He had scared her so! He returned her hug but then quickly let go. Looking closer at his face, Hermione noticed that it was a little pale.

“Why have you been just sitting here? Surely you knew that I was out of my mind worrying?” Hermione breathed. He smirked and glanced away for a moment, but she could tell that something serious had happened.

”I knew you were coming, so I waited here. And no, I did not trip you; you fell over my foot, which I did not appreciate,” he replied to the next question on her lips before she said it. Yes, something definitely went wrong.

“Severus, what’s happened at the meeting? Did he find out….?” Hermione did not finish the sentence, for there were so many words that could fill in that blank. She stared at him expectantly, hardly breathing with anticipation.

Severus sighed. “We arrived, and we were informed that Harry Potter was on the move. I do not know how the Dark Lord found that out,” he said quickly from a glance from Hermione, “but that information means that the Draught was even more anticipated.”

Hermione put a hand over her mouth. “Y-you mean that…now he knows where Harry is?”

Severus shook his head. “The Dark Lord knows when there are secrets kept from him, and he immediately went to me. Using Legilimency, he learned of the funeral.”

“Wait-“ Hermione stopped him. “Did he find out about, well…me?” She was breathing very fast now.

He shook his head, and Hermione closed her eyes with relief. Severus continued, “When he discovered that there was to be a funeral, he did not search my mind farther. He was angry that I had not informed him of this, but I escaped his punishment by pretending that I thought the information useless. In learning of this opportune occasion…he changed his mind about the Draught of Discovery, for it was of no use to him now – he already knows where Potter is headed.”

Severus paused and looked at Hermione, who was rather confused. “Opportune occasion? I don’t understand…. Is he sending the Death Eaters to attack Harry?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, he is not,” he sighed heavily, and for the first time he appeared older to Hermione. She shifted her weight so the shadow glided more youthfully across his face, but it was still a little unnerving. “The Dark Lord is planning to attack the castle on the day of the funeral.”

Hermione gasped. “No! No, that doesn’t make any sense! If he already knows where Harry is, why wouldn’t Voldemort just f-finish it now?” She felt horrible for suggesting an attack on Harry, but it would possibly save so many other peoples’ lives. No, Hermione refused to think that, and she wished that she hadn’t said it.

“He wants there to be a battle; it would prove nothing if he ambushed Potter on his way here. He wishes for there to be no mistaking his power – total annihilation,” Severus finished heavily.

Hermione was shocked. This was horrible, but wickedly clever – attack during the one thing no one would suspect, and at the one place everyone feels most safe.

“We must warn everyone. Prepare for a fight,” Hermione reasoned. Severus was not looking at her, but at the forest floor.

“We cannot. My role as spy would be discovered.”

“But that would be a good thing! Everyone would know that you’ve been on our side all al- “

“No, the Dark Lord would know I betrayed him. You cannot disguise an army as funeral guests; it would be extremely obvious that I was a traitor,” Severus retorted.

She did not understand why he was thinking this way. “Severus, you can’t keep this a secret forever. How can you even think of not informing the Order? You would be willing to sacrifice countless people so you can keep your cover for as long as you can? Dumbledore wanted you to protect Harry, and it sounds like you’re drif-“

She stopped talking abruptly after a very cold glare from Severus. Apparently Hermione had touched some kind of nerve.

“I’m sorry,” she quieted. Hermione had been rather harsh, and not very considerate to Severus’s fears and feelings.

He did not speak for several long minutes, in which time she became very anxious as to what his next words would be. Finally he sighed a little angrily and spoke.

“You are right,” Severus said it with a tightness in his voice which showed that he did not want to say it. Hermione was taken aback, for she had never heard her old Professor say that – to anyone.

“What?” she said, not quite believing him.

“If…we inform the Order ahead of time, there will be a great battle. In the battle, one side will be the victor, which I would hope to be ours. If that is so…it will not matter that I betrayed, and if the Dark Lord comes out on top…I am prepared to be punished for my actions.” Each word Severus said was slow as if he wanted to convince himself of it as well as Hermione. She raised her eyebrows at these words, and gradually smiled.

“I don’t think you know just how great a man you are, Severus Snape,” Hermione said quietly as she moved closer and leaned against him. “In fact, when this is all over, I think you will be viewed with the bravest and most heroic men of this war. You are to me.” She kissed him gently on his cheek, which was very hot.

He’s definitely blushing. How cute! Hermione thought, then immediately scolded herself for having such a girlish thought.

“Thank you,” Severus said with a smirk playing on his lips. “And yes, I heard that.” Now it was Hermione’s turn to blush.

“We should be getting back,” she declared, and stood up. Severus followed suit, and they set off through the forest hand-in-hand. When the reached the edge, Hermione Dissillusioned herself and Severus so that they could return to the castle in secret. With his hand in hers, Hermione felt so safe and strong. Nothing could harm her or upset her now, and they reached their dormitory before she even knew that they had passed through the main entrance.

Upon reaching their door, Hermione paused and looked up at Severus. “But…shouldn’t we tell everyone now? That would give them more time to prepare.” He shook his head and proceeded into their quarters. Confused, she followed him in.

Taking a seat on the couch, Hermione looked at Severus with a skeptical look while she waited for him to explain their hesitancy. He, on the other hand, was rather amused and took as much time as possible to check on the Veritaserum, hang up his cloak, and walk over to her.

“Oh, stop it,” she said impatiently, and Severus smirked, taking the seat across from her. “What’s the plan?”

“That’s just it,” he replied silkily, “we need one. Surely you did not think we could waltz into probably the most important meeting ever held by the Order of the Phoenix and simply improvise?”

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. Why does he always have to be right? Severus arched an eyebrow playfully.

“That is not a question, simply a fact,” he said.

Hermione would have laughed if they had not been discussing something this important. “All right, all right. So what are you thinking?” she hurried the conversation forward, eager to have a precise arrangement.

He paused. “I think we should wait until tomorrow to say anything to anyone. The funeral is on Saturday, and I expect Potter to arrive on Friday.” Hermione did not see the fruitfulness of delaying, so Severus explained further as if talking to a small child, earning himself a glower from across the room. “Today is Wednesday. There is no reason to call an Order meeting today; sometimes too much time is a bad thing. Not to mention it would give us the rest of the night to know exactly what to say.”

“Ok, so how will we approach this?”

“Contact McGonagall in the early morning, and have her call an emergency Order meeting with the necessary people –“

“No, wait,” Hermione stopped him. “The necessary people? Everyone needs to know, so we should include every member and the seventh years that want to fight.”

Severus exhaled in an exasperated way, but did not comment. “And then….”

“And then we should explain Dumbledore’s exact orders which he left to you, that way it would be put in plain words that you are a spy for the Order,” Hermione once again butted in.

“Fine,” Severus said softly with a hint of annoyance. “Why don’t you just play through it since you seem to have so many ideas?”

Hermione grinned mischievously. “All right then, I will. After you’ve proven your true loyalty, we will inform them that you have learned that Voldemort will attack on the day of the funeral. Hopefully they will not ask how he even found out about the funeral….”

“Which I’m sure they will,” Severus drawled. “Do you have yet another foolproof plan for that little snag?”

She had to think for a moment, but quickly came to a response. “ ‘When all else fails, tell the truth’. We’ll be sure to bring the book,” Hermione motioned to the Legilimency book, “in case no one believes the reason. I’m sure no one will think that the attack is a joke, because I –“ She stopped herself and glanced away from Severus.

“- because you are trustworthy. Unlike the man your gaze is avoiding,” he finished softly. Hermione immediately met his eyes.

“I was not going to say that.” The words could not even fool herself.

“I am too used to those words being said around me,” Severus spoke with a strange glint in his eye, “not to grow hard against them. Continue.”

Hermione had to wait several moments before her voice came back to her. It was an instant of pity that she did not want Severus to become aware of. He did not like being pitied. Just when he opened his mouth, she rushed on.

“So we will explain it all rationally and there should be no problems. Anyone that does not believe or trust us does not have to choose to fight with us. And…we can make contact with Harry as soon as he returns and inform him of the plan, and maybe…well…never mind.” Her voice quieted as she finished, for she had not intended to say anything further. She hoped that he did not know what she was about to say, but their minds were linked.

“You do know that you can’t hide anything from me, don’t you?” Severus asked with a trace of amusement, but it was gone in a moment. “But I see we have both become interested with the same prospect.”

Hermione’s irritation on the fact that she really couldn’t hide anything disappeared into excitement. “Really? You think that we could teach him this power and he could – “

“We could teach him?” Severus interrupted. “I do not intend to teach Potter anything about love,” his face was contorted in a way that suggested he was smelling something particularly unpleasant, “that will be your area of expertise.”

“But…I can’t show him without you there. And I don’t even know how I did it – you told me everything!”

“I know that you are not ready to tell him about our state of affairs yet. Let’s just pretend for a moment that you do tell him, and you invite me to demonstrate power held by love. I can guarantee an attempt of murder upon me within minutes,” he explained in an almost off-hand manner. “I can also guarantee that I would retaliate with pleasure, regardless of your friendship.” Hermione definitely saw a flash behind his eyes.

I had almost forgotten – they loathe each other. I’ll have to think of another way around this, Hermione thought.

“I will not ask you to present yourself in that way, Severus,” she told him, “but does this mean that you think this power could really be the answer?”

He was clearly calculating his thoughts before he replied simply, “Yes, I do.”

Hermione’s mouth opened slightly, for in Severus stating it, it seemed to make it true. She removed herself from the couch and moved closer to him. Her hand extended, grasping his hand in it; it was immediately warm. Putting her focus into an energy, she saw within moments the small cracks of light attempting to escape the cracks in their joined hands. He arched an eyebrow teasingly, and Hermione mimicked him with a smirk on her face.

She leaned in and pressed her lips softly against Severus’s. That familiar sensation of drifting away from the world at present almost commenced, but Hermione silenced it. She wanted to know what would happen. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw that Severus had just opened his at the same time. It was almost strange to see how very much alike they were.

Looking out of the corner of her eye, Hermione definitely saw the same light still thriving off her hand now creeping up her body, coming to rest upon both of their faces. It was so bright that she had to close her eyes.

This power will end this war…I have control of it. The thought was incredible, and it gave her such assurance to state it. It was just after this fact that she realized that she did not know how to give it to Harry, or at least make him aware of the power in himself. During the final battle, Hermione knew that he wouldn’t just kiss Voldemort to death.

Severus broke away from her as he choked on a sneer, and thusly the light diminished slightly so she could open her eyes. Hermione was embarrassed by the crudeness of her thought; she blushed.

“I would assume that you’re correct, but it would be quite an amusing prospect,” Severus said with false seriousness. Hermione grinned and took a seat on his lap.

“…You know, this is probably the last peaceful time we’ll have together until it’s all over,” she said quietly, the grin fading as she studied his face. “And that’s just if we both….” Hermione couldn’t finish, and she had to look away.

Severus’s look of laughter changed rapidly into compassion, something which was still new for her to see in him. Just the expression was enough to give her some comfort, but not enough to make that horrible fear disappear.

“Hermione,” his low tone caressed her; the voice made her shiver, “I promise you that I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”

“No, no!” she exclaimed. “I don’t care about me! I just want you to come through this unscathed.”

He looked away also for a moment before looking into her eyes. “I cannot promise that. I have chosen my path, and I am ready to embrace the risks that came with the job. You know that,” he told her. Hermione didn’t want to hear him say that; he was basically telling her that there was a good chance he would die in this battle.

“There wasn’t more to the plan, was there?” she asked with a little fear in her voice. “You don’t have to be sacrificed, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, I am not part of the plan. I am the one who carries out the plan, and aids in the occurrences of that plan. But if the only way I can do that on Saturday is to sacrifice myself, then I must.”

Hermione was so unspeakably in awe of Severus at that moment. He was ready to forfeit his life to keep a promise he made to Dumbledore many years previously, to protect someone who brings back the memory of his worst enemy, and to avenge the death of the woman he had loved so long ago. And he was doing all this willingly. Hermione felt a tear welling in her eye from the courage portrayed in this man which she could never equal to.

“Please do not cry,” his voice echoed through her mind. She did not heed to it, though she knew how much he hated to see her cry.

“You are the bravest and most heroic man in this war,” she whispered close to his ear. “I just hope that everyone accepts you for it tomorrow like I do.”

Severus kissed her again, and this time Hermione felt the emotion behind him. This was his way of thanking her, his way of assuring her that everything will be all right. She wasn’t sure she believed him completely, but for now she refused to consider it any more.

If they had not been inside this room, Hermione was sure that they could have lit the entire castle just then.



This is finally up! Just to let you know, I'll be gone for 3 days on Labor Day weekend, not to mention school has started and the workload is intense. But don't worry, I'm writing in the spare time I have, I just hope you understand if the next few chapters don't come as quickly as before (but there should by no means be a long, long wait). I also don't know how much I can respond to your feedback, but I'll try my best.

Speaking of which, leave the feedback here. I'll really try to have the next chappie up as soon as possible. Wow, we're close to the end now! Well, sort of, haha. Thanks!

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 21

Severus and Hermione were walking swiftly up the stairways and through the corridors in pursuit of the Headmistress’ office, careful not to be seen by wandering students. It was 7:30 in the morning, but McGonagall was sure to be in her office, for she ate breakfast earlier than most. Severus could feel his heart beating fast, but it was a completely new sensation to him. It was fear of some kind.

He had done many things in his lifetime that would terrify most people, but it usually just passed over him. He was stronger than that, stronger than those people. But today…oh, today this fear was quiet real. Fear for the secrets in his life that will now be revealed, fear for the entire Order’s safety, and most of all, fear for Hermione. If this did not work out as she hoped (which he was positive it wouldn’t), Severus didn’t think he could bear to see her life thrown up in smoke on his account. He vowed to do everything possible to keep that from happening.

Their footsteps echoed almost creepily in the halls. Severus got a distinct impression of walking down a long path up to a strange loop-shaped rope hanging from wood. What? He did not know what that was. Finally he realized that it was Hermione’s thought.

“It’s called the gallows. You’ve heard of hangings? In the muggle world, that’s what people used to be hung from,” Hermione’s rather frightened-sounding voice chimed through his head, then she laughed nervously from the absurdity of the thought.

Severus thought that to be extremely primitive and barbaric, but now that he thought about it, he certainly had heard of gallows; he had just never seen them. Even for him, who was unafraid of almost anything, that flashing image was unnerving.

Ah…so she too feels anxious. For some reason, it was easier to be fearful when he knew he was not alone. McGonagall’s office appeared much too soon.

“Caramel Clusters,” Hermione said softly, and the gargoyle stepped aside graciously. They continued to ascend the spiral staircase and finally reached the closed door. Severus extended a hand, hesitated for a millisecond, and knocked.

“Come in,” he heard from inside the room. Hermione opened the door, and they proceeded into the office to gaze upon McGonagall sealing an envelope and sending it off with an owl which quickly disappeared in the distance. Severus again got a mental image from Hermione, this time an opened letter, and he could tell that she was remembering something important. Apparently, she did not yet want to disclose it.

McGonagall eyed them ruefully. “Yes, yes, what is it now? More good news?” she said with such a sarcastic tone that Severus felt his temper rise. Maybe it was the fact that McGonagall was not a sarcastic person, and yet she was choosing to be so with him that made her rub him the wrong way. Before he could open his mouth to say something particularly contemptuous, Hermione spoke.

“Minerva, you need to call a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix as soon as possible. It is extremely important.” McGonagall’s brow furrowed.

”May I enquire as to this ‘extremely important’ reason?”

Hermione drew in a breath and said slowly, “We have…we have learned of something which will affect us all very gravely, and it must be addressed now.” Severus could tell that she had rehearsed that line.

Minerva raised her eyebrows. “You sound sincere, but you have yet to inform me exactly why I must assemble the Order.”

This time, Severus was quicker. “Voldemort is going to attack the school.”

He was surprised at his own use of the name, for he had never before uttered it. It was now a fact that there was a distinct change in him – and honestly he did not dislike it. In response to the statement, the pen McGonagall had been holding clattered to the floor. She paled.

“When?” she asked very quietly.

“During the funeral,” he replied. This was it, the moment where everything could pass unnoticed or could fall to pieces.

McGonagall’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Severus – Severus, surely you did not tell him?” her voice was laced with extreme accusation. Of course she had to ask that, Severus thought regretfully; things were headed down the path of falling to pieces.

“He didn’t!” Hermione exclaimed. With a look from Severus, she pulled out Legilimency: the Complete Art from under her cloak, and flipped to the page Severus had shown her yesterday. She let Minerva read it, whose face seemed to lose all further color the longer she read it.

“ ‘Once the love is complete’ ?!” she cried out, looking wildly from Severus to Hermione. To Severus’s extreme distaste, she had the look of someone about to be sick. He almost growled. Why must that always be the first question? “Are you telling me that you…I mean to say that the both of you have –?“

Severus cut across her. Hermione was blushing furiously, which he very much wished she would stop. Actually, he was sure that his own face held new color. “We do not know the precise interpretation of that line, but the point is that it has happened – whatever it is. I could not control my mind against Voldemort, and therefore he learned of the funeral. No, he did not discover anything else about the Order,” he added from a horrified glance from Minerva. “In summation, I can no longer safely continue my position as a spy.”

McGonagall looked livid. “I warned you both before! I told you that this was a mistake, but you did not listen! Do you both realize that because of what you have done, you have put all of Hogwarts, the Order, and the innocent students in peril?”

Severus’s lip curled, but attempted to control himself by speaking in a low, almost dangerous tone. “I was under the impression that it was our main intention to destroy Lord Voldemort. As of now, Hermione and I have done nothing but given our greatest assistance in reaching that goal. Without the occurrences between us, Voldemort would have obtained the Draught of Discovery and already tracked down and killed Potter. Why would he have killed him? Because we are also the only ones who know how to defeat the Dark Lord, meaning only we can instruct Potter on how to finish it off. As of now, you seem to be the one putting everyone in peril, for you are blind to these painfully obvious facts.”

McGonagall’s nostrils flared, and for a very long moment she and Severus were locked in a stare-down match of sorts. He knew she did not take kindly to being talked to that way, but he couldn’t care less. He was right, she was wrong; that was all there was to it, and they could move no farther until she understood and agreed with this. Severus felt Hermione touch his forearm and squeeze it as some sign of assurance. McGonagall did not miss that, and it must have been enough to make her snap.

“I am not going to sit here and argue about this, Severus, for we will never see eye-to-eye on the matter. Regardless, if you are indeed correct about an attack –“

“He is,” Hermione said firmly.

Minerva looked at her for a moment before continuing in a very stiff voice. “ – then I must call the immediate Order members that are available just now. She stood up and walked back over to the window, drawing out her wand. Just before she performed the Patronus which would send the message, she turned back to them. “I wish you luck in trying to explain this matter in any rational manner,” she said coldly.

As her silver cat Patronus bounded out the window, Severus had to use all his self-control not to lash out in some way. He knew that she would react this way, it is to be expected, but Severus knew that Hermione was expecting something less harsh. He could feel her extreme disappointment towards the Headmistress.

”Do not grow weak this early, for the biggest battle will be arriving in moments,” he projected. She replied by moving her hand down to his and giving it another gentle squeeze. “It will be worth it in the end; everyone will understand.”

”Hopefully,” was all he received in response. His hand was very warm in hers. Without really contemplating it, he decided rather rashly to perform that strange magic that they possessed once again, but this time it was not in the usual form. Severus’s skill of tampering with spells apparently aided him in this, for the light was now a beam which zoomed quickly across the room and came to rest on the bit of carpet beneath McGonagall’s feet. He released the energy, and it disappeared, but it left a scorch mark upon the rug.

Ah, it is possible to change its nature…. Severus had been wanting to try that, and he could not think of a more entertaining time.

McGonagall’s eyes widened in anger as she looked at the carpet, then to their joined hands. “All right, all right! I get your point, Severus, but I would greatly appreciate it if you did not demonstrate them on my items!” She was furious; she tried a various number of spells to make the ugly mark disappear, but none worked. Minerva scowled at him and took her seat behind the desk again, not taking her eyes off their joined hands.

He had won this round; that was clear. Severus had known ever since he started at Hogwarts that he and Minerva were opposites. Ever since he had been a student, and she a younger teacher, it was obvious. Yes, sometimes opposites attract, but she never made any attempts to reach out to him or understand him at all. Severus had no time or patience for those kinds of people, so he supposed that it was inevitable that they would clash. Dumbledore had been the only thread that bound them however loosely together. Now that Dumbledore was gone, and even though Severus had persuaded her to believe him to be on the side of Order, that did not change anything between them. It only postponed the breaking point which was precariously balancing atop that over-stretched thread.

He was roused from his thoughts by the sight of several people crossing the grounds – they were here. Of course, not every Order member could heed the summons now, for it was the middle of the work day and it would be reckless for such people as Shacklebolt and Weasley to abandon posts at the Ministry.

Among those who were approaching the castle were Tonks, Hagrid, Molly Weasley, Fleur and Bill, Fred and George, and Lupin (as always, Severus’s temper rose just at the site of the last Marauder, the last memory of his boyhood torture). Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Hermione nervously tapping her fingers against the back of the chair in front of McGonagall’s desk, displaying the nervousness taking her over. They only had to wait a few more minutes before these Order members entered the office. Ginny was among them.

Tonks, Lupin, Hagrid, and Molly all gave Hermione a quick comforting hug as they filed past her. They apparently mistook her nervousness for a look of grievance of Ron – this only caused her to bite her lip in frustration. Severus noted that Molly held onto her longer than the rest; Mrs. Weasley’s face was pale and her face had an extremely pained expression. He was certain that she looked a little thinner.

Fred, George, and Bill were also very subdued. Severus had never had siblings, but surely he would look no less morose if he had lost one, wouldn’t he? He immediately shook himself from that thought, for it was a little too empathetic to be pleasant in his mind’s eye. Ginny looked worse by far, even compared to her mother. She was unkempt and still had tearstains down her face, with bloodshot eyes. Severus saw her throw a positively malevolent look at himself and Hermione, one to rival even his own well-rehearsed scowls. He was impressed.

He was not really listening to any of the small talk going on around him, but he was more focused on Hermione, who was looking at him with an intense stare that plainly asked, “Is this a huge mistake?” He shook his head a fraction of an inch, for he could be no more obvious in front of them now.

“Fred, George…Bill,” Minerva asked sternly to them, “won’t you coworkers notice that you’ve left your jobs?”

“The goblins think I’m down in the shafts, they won’t go looking,” Bill replied.

“And we run our place; we can leave as we please,” George nodded. Severus had been always hated those twins in his classes, but now that they were not laughing and joking, the change was almost creepy. He shook off that thought, too, and waited with bated breath for it to begin.

McGonagall transfigured several sheets of paper into 9 more chairs and motioned for them all to sit down. The moment the last chair scraped into its final position, no one made a sound.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you are all wondering why there was such an urgent call. I am going to let Hermione and Severus take it from here,” Minerva motioned to the two of them who were now the only ones standing. Hermione blinked before she rushed ahead from tenseness.

“Er, there’s no real way to say it other than to just say it…V-Voldemort is planning to attack the castle during Ron’s funeral. He wants t-total annihilation,” she said quickly. Severus would have smirked on the fact that she had quoted him, but of course did not. “We…we need to organize ourselves for a battle.”

Total silence met her words. Ginny’s eyes widened; everyone else’s mouths opened slightly. Molly took a sharp intake of breath that could have been from fear or just a dry sob – it was hard to tell. Remus was the first to question.

“How do you know this?”

Hermione looked up at Severus. He took this one. “It was discussed at the most recent Death Eater meeting. I am passing on the information.” Severus glared at each person as if daring them to say something against him.

Remus shifted in his chair, and the light cast across his face showing the further lines and shadows that betrayed how old he appeared, though he was no older than Severus. He seemed to be struggling on whether to say something or not. Lupin finally yielded to it.

“Severus, forgive me, but it has never been clear which side of this war you are on. I think I speak for us all when I ask…is there any reason you can give us to make us sure that there is not going to be a - a betrayal?” he paused and turned his head slightly to one side. “During our last battle, we received a surprise to say the least from your handiwork.” The words were thrown at him only in the gentle tone that Lupin always held, but something about them stung worse than anything McGonagall or Ginny had told him in the past 24 hours.

Severus’s lip curled once more as his well-trained face hid all emotion. He had known all along that there would be such a reference, but he had hoped against hope that he could be spared from the internal struggle it always instigated. Just as he was about to fling a retort, a small voice spoke from somewhere.

“What, Miss Weasley?” Minerva jumped in, eager to prevent a fight whenever possible, and she had grown accustomed to sensing an outburst from Severus. He scowled down at Ginny as he waited for her to repeat herself.

“I asked Snape how Voldemort even knew about the funeral,” Ginny stated in a firmer voice, her eyes locked with Severus’s, but she was talking to McGonagall. Her words stirred a murmur from the people surrounding them. From the corner of his eye, he saw Minerva wipe her glasses on her cloak – she was expectant to see where this would lead. “If you are on our side, you would never have shared that convenient piece of information with them,” she finished, lacing “them” with as much disdain as possible.

Hermione gasped as inaudibly as she could, but it was enough. The members of the Order were suspicious now, and there was only one way to make them understand…or at least try to. Severus knew they wouldn’t, but for Hermione’s sake, they had to try. She took a rattled breath before pressing onward.

“I – we – have not been completely honest,” Hermione started, looking up at him as if asking for help, but he could not bring himself to actually say it. Realizing this, she blinked furiously and continued. “Severus and I are…involved. No, I suppose that is an understatement of sorts; we are in l-love.” She stumbled over the word and awkwardly paused before explaining what this had to do with Voldemort, but it was mistaken for finishing her statement. She said the “L” word, Severus almost rolled his eyes; she stated the one thing that would make them or break them…he was banking on breaking.

Tonks actually laughed out loud, but she was the only one who missed the seriousness in Hermione’s voice. The laughter died quickly, though, in realizing that this was indeed not a joke. Ginny did not so much as blink, making it clear that she had known this previously. In the extremely awkward silence, Fred and George recommenced Tonks’s merriment.

“Ha ha ha, you’re kidding, right?” George laughed.

”Yeah, I mean, you’re 17 and he’s …,” Fred trailed off and while searching for an age, looked at his mother before bursting into new hilarity. One of the coldest looks they had ever been granted from Severus immediately silenced them, however. Severus’s blood boiled beneath his skin; he sensed Hermione’s embarrassment and unease and instantly regretted leaving the dungeons. Regardless, Hermione pushed on; granted, this time she would not make eye contact with anyone in the room besides Severus occasionally. He was practicing the same technique.

“None of that matters; I understand him, and he understands me. We share interests and feelings…and even thoughts. That’s how this was all started. You see, er, we are both extremely good at Legilimency, more so than I had ever heard of. So…I looked at this book,” she pointed to the book which seemed to hold all the answers and the problems to this fine mess in its pages lying on Minerva’s desk, “and it talked about love, and the different properties it had which could be experimented with. We’ve…we’ve tested them and found that love can be used as an actual power.”

Hermione crossed the room and grabbed the book, opening to the same page they had both read over and over. Severus ran his tongue over his lips, for there was so much tension surrounding them that it was almost suffocating. And she had the audacity to ignore it and continue! He had to give her credit for that Gryffindor grit.

“and once the love – “ she began but Severus projected his opinions quickly.

“Do not read that. It will only m-“

“No, they have to understand everything,” Hermione replied, her eyes open wide as she looked form the book to Severus, then back to the book as she continued, not heeding to his wishes.

“and once the love it complete, magic takes control. One cannot block themselves from another. Occlumency is the art used to keep one from achieving knowledge from one’s mind, used in a sense for hiding. This ancient love it the opposite, and once once it has been mastered, one cannot hold back for said hiding simply because they have chosen to associate themselves with such purity…” Hermione read. With his peripheral vision, he saw Ginny whip her head up to look, probably incredulously, at them when she read the first sentence. Hermione chose to be oblivious to this.

“So you see…in choosing what he did, Severus gave up his ability to perform Occlumency. He had no choice when it came to Voldemort finding out about the funeral. And of course, he also had no choice but to tell you all this. I really hope that you understand, so that we can get past this and start making a plan….” She finished a little uncertainly. This was the first time she really looked around at them since she began, but it brought her no confidence by any means. Deepest astonishment etched each face.

Remus again came to the rescue of speaking first, but it was not what Severus wanted to hear. He looked extremely uncomfortable. “Er…this has been a most…enlightening speech, but it does not answer my first question. Whether or not Severus,” he paused, swallowing hard and blinking before continuing, “loves you, that alone does not exempt him from the doubt he has created around himself.” Severus was sure he noted accusation directed at him, but in that moment, he was tired of waiting, tired of hiding everything. It was going to be over soon anyway, so why reject the inevitable?

“I am going to make this plain, and I am only going to say it once. If you don’t wish to believe it, you can leave now, for I won’t waste my breath,” Severus spat suddenly grabbing everyone’s attention. He spoke as if speaking to his students, and it was obvious that a few Order members resented this fact, but he didn’t care. He really wasn’t going to waste his breath saying anything of such importance if they were determined to despise him. Regardless, no one moved.

No matter how he spoke to them, nobody wanted to miss this. They looked from Severus to Hermione, and finally rested back upon Severus with various levels of expectance on their faces. Each one held their breath and waited for him to explain what every single person on our side had wanted to know since the war began – how did the chess pieces on Dumbledore’s well-planned board finally land concerning Voldemort’s big black knight, Severus Snape.



Finally, this chapter's done!!! I've started the next one, which I hope to have up in approximately a week. I think that will be about the average space between posts now that I'm more pressed for time. Please leave all feedback here, it really does help more than you know when you tell me what you think. And please, constructive criticism too!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it was more difficult to write than I first thought. Thank you for reading!

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 22

Hermione stood stock still as the others before she realized that she already knew the story. She could not believe that Severus was going to do this; it was never intended for him to actually explain it all, and Hermione knew that he didn’t want to.

“I would never ask you to relive that in front of them. You don’t have to put yourself through this, Severus,” she connected herself to him. He waited a moment with his lips slightly apart before simply,

“I know.”

Hermione was once again hit with that strange awe she received whenever Severus said or did something particularly…what’s the word….

Gryffindor, she decided, finally grasping the phrase she had been wanting to describe him with. Yes, that was it perfectly. Hermione had never seen anything particularly Slytherin about Snape besides his attitude, but then again, nowhere did it say that Gryffindors couldn’t have an unwelcoming mind-set; that had nothing to do with what kind of heart you had (and in truth, he didn’t even have such a cold attitude deep down after all, she had proven it). Severus was Gryffindor in almost every aspect; determination, bravery…especially when it was hardest to do so, like now. He recognized that for them to really understand, he would have to make them whether he wanted to or not

Severus was saying something, but Hermione was not listening. She was thinking very hard on this, for it seemed so obvious that she was surprised she had never thought about it before. Why was he chosen for Slytherin in the first place? A moment passed and it came to her. He had, at first, chosen to become a Death Eater. But why? Hermione really wasn’t sure. Maybe it was peer pressure from friends who would also become Death Eaters…or it could have been that after Lily parted ways from him, Severus was desperate for companionship and turned to Voldemort’s followers. She would have to ask him.

Emerging from her reverie of sorts, she began to listen to Severus. He was speaking in an angry, almost accusatory tone, but Hermione saw very clearly that he was just trying to hide the insecurity underneath. She didn’t know where he had started in this tale, but right now he was explaining that he asked for mercy from Dumbledore.

“I realized my mistake, and no, I did not trick Dumbledore in any way, regardless of what most of you think. On the contrary, Dumbledore was cold, fierce to me…in no way did he welcome me with open arms, which I’ve also heard. It is well-known that he was an extremely skilled Legilimens – my Occlumency was no match for it, and that is how he became convinced of my remorse.” He paused to let the room settle a moment, for various persons were shifting in their seats. Hermione looked at Severus for a moment, but he did not look back; he did not want the seriousness in the room to slip because of a glance between them. She understood.

What she did not understand, however, was why he was daring to change the story. Severus failed to mention Lily Potter at all, for that was how Dumbledore became sure of his remorse – not because of Ligilimency. And what was he playing at, changing the story from the one McGonagall heard previously? No, Severus would not be that bold. Hermione racked her brains to remember what he had said when she recalled that he had never told Minerva about Lily; he had convinced him of his true side by showing her the memories of planning Dumbledore’s death. But surely the truth will come out sometime. Wouldn’t it only be cause for more trouble if it was found out that he lied again?

She thought of asking him mentally about this, but Hermione was sure he already knew it, simply because she had been thinking it. Again, he did not look at her.

“I was put in the role of spy; it was also my job to…protect, for lack of a better word, Potter. Was it thought that if I was on the side of the Order, I would make it plain? Did you think that I would blatantly berate Voldemort in front of each person who questioned me? If I had done anything to assure anyone where my true allegiances lied, do you think I would still be alive to tell the tale?...No.” Severus’s voice had been getting louder and louder as he asked each question to the general air; but when he spoke the last word, his tone fell dramatically so that it was said in the soft, dangerous tone he became partial to.

“It never ceased to amaze me how brilliantly simple-minded many members of the Order of the Phoenix were. They of all people should have recognized what was really going on, for if I was a double-agent to the other side, I would have stopped pretending many years ago. But I had a reason to keep the pretense going; I had promised Dumbledore. Again, contrary to what some think,” he paused and pointedly stared down Lupin, “I keep a promise. Over time, I was set to small jobs to ensure Potter’s safety, some of which succeeded, and some of which failed.”

Hermione was instantly reminded of the Occlumency lessons Severus had attempted to teach Harry. Of course it was inevitable that it would be unsuccessful. She almost laughed when she remembered having long conversations with Harry, during which they contemplated the idea of Severus purposely weakening his mind. How stupid she had been! It was obvious now that because of the simple fact that they loathed each other, Harry could not satisfactorily perform Occlumency. On the other hand, Hermione supposed, that is why I am so apt at it; it’s in reverse. If only they had not hated each other, then maybe Harry could have learned faster and prevented Voldemort from –

Severus cleared his throat angrily. While to everyone else in the room he appeared to be preparing to speak, Hermione knew that this was directed at her to stop thinking that way; it was going through his mind as well, and she immediately wished she hadn’t “interrupted.”

“Finally,” this time it was clear he was reaching the last parts of the story, which incidentally were the parts most eager to be heard, “last year Dumbledore made me swear to follow his final orders. As it was known, his hand had been cursed, but it was kept quiet that said curse was slowly killing him. It was also known that Draco Malfoy was assigned the formidable task of murdering Dumbledore. His attempts failed. It was then, and only then, that Dumbledore made me swear to finish it in the end.

“If I had not, he would have died soon regardless. Dumbledore’s plan was wise, for it would ensure that I would fall in as deep as possible in Voldemort’s inner circle, continuing my role as spy until the critical moment came.”

Hermione smiled a very small smile, proud beyond words at the faith Severus had just portrayed. She knew that he had trouble trusting anyone, even her, but this was a step beyond when he trusted 10 people at once with his deepest secret. No, she corrected herself, his deepest secret is still hidden from everyone…except me.

This time, she definitely saw Severus catch her gaze and hold it for several seconds, during which time Minerva coughed. They turned to look at her, who had a half-satisfied, half-I-didn’t-do-that-on-purpose expression. Snape, in spite of McGonagall, glanced once more at Hermione before he spoke again.

“The critical moment has come. I can do no more under the cover I had held, and therefore there was no use continuing to hide under it. As Hermione said, we must prepare for a battle. Strengthen the magical fortifications, band together all persons willing to fight and all creatures on our side, and yet under no circumstances make it clear that we expect combat. Funeral arrangements must be made as normal as possible.” At the last sentence, Molly let out another sob, which she did not even attempt to hide this time.

“I know that this is a lot to process at the moment, but we really cannot wait. There are many things that must be arranged, but we must leave that with you. Severus and I have to work on something before Harry returns -” Hermione let Severus finish her thought for her.

“-during which time I hope that you will put aside the menacing thoughts playing through your heads and realize that there are more important things to be worrying about than the gossip of our social lives.”

Hermione nodded, looking around at the solemn faces staring back at her. Severus was quicker than she, and without a backwards glance, exited the room. Hermione, not wanting to be left in the awkward presence of her friends at the moment proceeded to follow him. But they had been standing at the head of the room, and therefore she had to pass each person en route to the door. Her will to create the impression that she could not see them folded, and Hermione’s eyes were drawn to the Order’s as she surpassed.

Lupin was paler than usual, and did not meet her gaze but instead stared at the spot Severus had just vacated. Tonks was still looking at her as if this was a bad joke…Bill’s eyebrows were raised and Fleur had the look of someone sniffing something awful, probably the thought of such an older, less attractive man being involved with a girl even younger than she …Fred and George simply looked confused…Hagrid’s lips were parted as if he wanted desperately to say something, while Molly appeared to be refusing to look at her. Finally she came to Ginny.

Hermione paused just beside the door when she felt a pair of eyes boring into her. She turned to Ginny and held her gaze for several long seconds, unsaid words and well-known feelings bubbled between the two until it boiled over. Hermione could not bear to look at her friend any longer, and she grasped the doorknob, pulling it open. For a millisecond before she snapped it shut behind her, she glimpsed a look of surprise and…was it regret?...on Minerva’s face. Hermione did not contemplate it, for she was running to catch up to Severus, who had almost disappeared down the opposite staircase.

Her feet echoing on the stone corridors, Hermione saw Severus stop moving when he heard her coming, though he did not turn around. He waited until she was mere feet behind him until he continued walking. She quickened her pace to match his, and the two moved farther and farther into the castle without words passing between them - they didn’t need words.

“What is it that we must do before Potter arrives?” he said finally, breaking the silence. His tone was flat and strained. Hermione instantly wished she had refused to let him say all that he did, for in a way it had defeated him.

“I don’t know…I knew you wanted to get out of there. I did too,” she replied quietly, eyeing him carefully. She pondered a moment longer. “If there’s anything to do, it is to prepare for what I’m going to tell Harry.” She said this more to herself than to Severus, but the comment did not go unnoticed.

“I will help to a certain extent, but I will not be present during your little reunion,” Severus commented rather harshly.

Hermione shrunk back a little from the severity, but instantly bounced back. “I didn’t ask you to!”

He stopped walking and glared down at her, the pain still evident on his face. “Yes, you did…last night - which I am declining.” They continued walking.

Hermione remembered now; she had wanted him to accompany her. Thinking on it now, how could she even have proposed something like that? It would be cruel to force him to face Harry in that way. Regretfully, she noted how Severus had indeed stepped forward in McGonagall’s office and did something that she had never expected him to. It was ridiculous that she wanted him to do the one and only thing that he did not wish to, while he never asked for anything in return.

“Indeed,” he said softly, obviously tuning into her self-scolding, but he did not say it meanly. Hermione apologized, and they made their way down to the dungeons with a slightly lighter air circulating amid them.

Once securely inside their room, Severus did not speak for a long time. Hermione did not wish to disturb him, for he was quite plainly trying to lose himself from the present around him and melt into the surroundings of a different day, a different time. She did not blame him, for she too had seen the looks on the faces of all her friends (well, who I thought were my friends). Hermione had convinced herself that, if given enough time, they still spurned her for her choices, they weren’t nearly the understanding friends as she thought. In fact, Ginny already seemed to have made up her mind quite adamantly about where they stood. Hermione didn’t want to think about her anymore.

Turning her mind to what she had first said, she began to run through possible interactions and conversations with Harry. Her first attempts were no good, for she knew that his temper would blow up. Her second attempt also wasn’t satisfactory, for in this scenario he certainly would not understand what she was trying to impart to him. Hermione’s other option was the scariest – the possibility that someone else might have told him about her and Severus before she got the chance to explain. In which case, Harry probably wouldn’t even talk to her. She rubbed her forehead agitatedly, realizing what a daunting task she had set herself up for, and reached over to the bookcase for a bit of light reading.

After perhaps half an hour of reading beside the still silent Severus, someone called out Hermione’s name rather loudly, making her drop the book in fright.

“Hermione!”

Severus started from her sudden movement. She looked around wildly for the source of the voice; it was McGonagall, for her head was floating in the fireplace. Upon seeing who it was, Severus turned his head away from the fire, choosing to become interested in something in the opposite direction with a scowl plain on his face. Hermione’s heart slowed.

“Yes?” she replied as placidly as she could, bending down to get the book.

“Potter has just arrived.”

Hermione gasped and sprang up from the couch, the book once again slipping from her grip. “What? I thought he wasn’t coming until tomorrow!”

Minerva exhaled slowly. “He is earlier than he had first anticipated.” Hermione smiled broadly, then frowned, remembering that she still did not know what on earth she was going to say. It was then that she noticed a different look on McGonagall’s face. It was something like pity, which made no sense.

“Is everything all –“ Hermione started, but she was cut off.

“He wants to speak with you now, he’s here in my office.” Hermione heard a muffled voice behind speaking as McGonagall’s head turned away from her, then returned when the second voice quieted. “No, Potter is coming down now.”

Severus stood up rather abruptly, and walked into his bedroom, closing the door with a snap behind him. McGonagall’s eyes followed him and slowly turned back to Hermione. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

“I…think I should warn you that…Potter is not in a good mood. Anything you are going to say…well…,” it appeared that she could not form the end of the sentence. Hermione thought this rather odd.

“All right, I suppose,” she replied a little uncertainly as McGonagall’s head disappeared.

What on earth is going on with her? I can’t figure it out, first she’s completely adamant that this is a horrid situation, and now it almost seems like she –

Hermione was shaken abruptly from her thoughts when the door burst open suddenly, revealing her long-time friend crossing the threshold. Hermione’s face wore a huge smile at the sight of him, which instantly faded upon closer examination. Harry Potter did not look anything like himself…well, the Harry that Hermione had grown up with.

Yes, to anyone besides someone so close to him, he would have appeared relatively normal, but Hermione was not fooled. His robes were dirty, ripped; Harry was extremely pale, and his eyes were almost sunken. The sparkling green they had so long carried was dimmed and lifeless; they were empty, void of what little emotion he had clung to after so many allies’ deaths. His scar seemed a deeper red than she had ever before noticed, but this was all nothing compared to his expression.

Harry’s face was contorted was rage; not simply anger, however, but an anguished fury forced upon him. Hermione felt a fraction of her heart break at the sight of him like this because she knew that it was partly due to her. She didn’t even have to ask, for it was clear that he knew.

‘Not in a good mood’ doesn’t begin to cover it…, Hermione noted warily as she looked for the first time on his outstretched arm which came to a halt with his wand pointed at her. This, more than anything else, broke her.

“H-Harry, put down your wand,” she said feebly. “You know you don’t need it.”

“No, I’m not so sure that I don’t,” Harry replied sharply. His voice, too, was hollow. His eyes swept the room and came to rest on the only closed door – Severus’s door. His torn cloak rustling behind him, he crossed the room with immense speed and kicked the door. “GET OUT HERE, YOU FILTHY COWARD!” Harry roared abruptly, causing Hermione’s eyes to open wide.

“Harry, no!” she yelled, running over and grabbing his arm to pull him away from the door, but he shook her off. Hearing movement behind the door and throwing caution to the wind, she asked “Who told you?”

Here Harry took his eyes off the door and looked straight into hers. He did not respond, so Hermione took the initiative to find out herself. Reaching into his mind, images flashed before her eyes. She watched from Harry’s view as he stared mournfully for a moment into the sleeping portrait of Dumbledore, as a tearful Ginny ran toward him on the grounds saying something she could not understand, and as he knelt beside something she could not determine…it looked something like a body, but….

“No!” Harry broke the connection forcefully, breathing heavily and quite clearly failing to keep his temper under control, “You see? You are becoming like him! Ripping into my mind without thinking, not caring what it does to me! I’ve had enough of this – it all comes back to him!” A little of the rage in his eyes had been replaced by pain as if from a poorly healed cut that Hermione had just split open. Hermione realized too late what she had last seen, and she noticed her body shaking. She sat down on the couch without remembering doing it, feeling as though she might be sick.

Hermione had not at all been prepared to witness Ron in that way…but in that image he did not look like Ron at all, just another corpse created towards the ultimate end of Voldemort. In that moment, she had been filled with pure horror of such a sight, but it took her several seconds to realized how very much worse it was for Harry. He had already lost so many friends, family members…and now his very best friend was killed in front of him; he even brought his body back for the funeral, having to look every day at that once lively face so empty and void….

Hermione felt dizzy. Never before had she understood. Being a good friend, of course, she had always tried to the best of her abilities to relate to Harry and his struggles, but it was never this clear. Perhaps it was her newfound talent for reaching into the mind, or perhaps it was just the sight of the dead body that awakened her senses to the reality crashing upon her.

As though from a fuzzy dream, Hermione saw Harry pound upon Severus’s door until finally it flew open, revealing Severus - extremely agitated and filled with abhorrence with his wand pointed directly between Harry’s eyes. Hermione was hot, her perceptiveness fading for some reason. Heavy and heated words passed between the two men, but she was oddly deaf to them. Before she realized it, her vision slid out of focus and Hermione passed out, the last image she saw being not Harry and Severus, but the lifeless figure of Ron Weasley which she knew would not cease to haunt her dreams.



Finally! It feels like I'm taking longer each time to get these posted, so sorry, things are crazy in my life right now . I am attempting my draft of chapter 23, which will probably be up in about a week again. I really hope you all liked this chapter...I think it was a little deeper than the rest. You know the drill, please leave your feedback here. And another thank you to all of you who have supported me and diligently commented this fic! Until next post,

*drhpluvr4l

Chapter 23

Severus held his gaze with Harry’s for what seemed like hours, their wands pointed directly at one another. It was hard to tell whose face betrayed the most loathing.

How dare he…how DARE he come here and want to face me…. He wanted nothing more than to make Potter pay for all the times he had crossed him or curse him into oblivion, and it took all his self-control not to do the latter – unfortunately, Potter was the key to the entire plan, and he certainly wasn’t going to have spilled his life story out for nothing.

A small flit in the back of his mind brought his eyes to Hermione, who had just slipped into unconsciousness on the couch. His heart skipped a beat, but he couldn’t let it show. Harry’s eyes followed Severus’s, and his too came to rest on Hermione. He made an involuntary motion, but apparently he decided the same thing Severus did – neither wanted to turn away from the other even for a moment. A quick probe into her psyche told him that she had simply fainted.

“Ennervate,” he pointed his wand in her direction for a millisecond, but it was enough to revive her. Even before her eyes fluttered open, Severus’s wand was staring down at Harry once more. He did not have to look at her to know that she was awake…and frightened.

“S-Severus…Harry…put your wands down, please!” she said shakily once she regained her bearings.

“Not in his presence,” Harry hissed back, green eyes locked against the obsidian. Severus, in fact, was not looking directly at his eyes, however; he could not. He chose to fix his gaze between Harry’s eyes, so as not to weaken under their too-well-remembered equivalent. He had always done this, except for perhaps the first time Severus had seen Harry, but that was only to hear if those rumors were true.

How very true they had been…he found himself thinking, but with great difficulty not looking into the eyes. That had not been the only rumor; of course the scar was the most famous, but it had also been said that Harry Potter was an almost exact copy of James. That also had been a little too true for Severus’s liking. But right now, none of that mattered.

“Leave here now,” he ordered in his very deadliest tone. Unfortunately, Harry was too used to it to back down.

“Not until I’ve had my say with you. For too long I haven’t been able to say or do just what I wanted to you, but I’m not your student anymore. I guarantee that I will not leave before I’ve done both.” It was obvious that he meant what he said.

“You never change, Potter,” Severus spat, “you think of yourself before anyone else – before this entire war! I too would finish you off here and now if you were not an essential –“

“Essential what?” Harry’s voice became hollow again, the emotion strained. “Essential to the Order, essential against Voldemort? I’ve known that for a long time, Snape, but I’m not going to live by it anymore. I’ve always done everything for someone else, for some greater good; dealing with you is something for me and only me, and no amount of words you throw at me with make me stop.”

Severus gripped his wand tighter, desperate to let loose the anger beginning to overflow.

“Harry, please! I know you’re mad because of me, but this is no way to settle it!” Hermione’s voice echoed from across the room. Harry ignored it.

He took a step toward Severus, who in turn also took a step closer. They were less than two feet apart. “You know you are weak; I know you are weak. As always, you allow your emotion to take over until you have no control, no power!” He was trying to push Harry to the edge – he could not help it, he always had an inclination to do so. “If your idiotic friend hadn’t ended his own life, then maybe you –“

One step too far. Harry ejaculated a curse (which one, Severus did not know), and at the same moment Severus’s quick reflexes sent out a nonverbal “Expelliarmus!” The force of the two extremely strong spells hitting one another created an explosion of sorts, bits of magic bursting in bright orange and red sparklers. Harry and Severus were thrown backwards, each landing sprawled on the ground.

Severus swore inwardly as he saw Harry scramble to his feet from the corner of his eye. He too righted himself and was about to fire a hex when he stopped mid-incantation. Hermione had removed herself from the couch and was standing between them, blocking them from attacking one another. Harry also stopped moving, and once again both were thinking the same thing – they might hit Hermione if they continued to duel. They had no choice but to listen to her.

“Stop it, the both of you! You are going to sit down right now, and we are going to talk about this!” Hermione screeched, sounding much like the mother of young boys. Severus felt a pang of emotion somewhere inside of him when he saw the disappointment and anxiety in her eyes. She turned to Harry. “Harry, I know I owe you an explanation, but there’s something more important that must be discussed, also. And Severus,” she turned to face him now, and it was more evident than ever that something was wrong. “I still don’t expect you to help when I get to the part we talked about, but you can at least not try to attack him while I explain this. That goes for you too,” she glanced in Harry’s direction.

Upon returning her eyes to Severus’s, he seized the moment to look into her thoughts. As if it was playing out before him, Severus saw what she had seen through Harry’s mind. He instantly released his grip on her mind, her shock rattling through him. He wanted very strongly to comfort her now, for he could tell that she was only being strong so that he would not have to do just that in front of Harry. She was deeply shaken and therefore, by way of their bond, so was he.

Hermione’s lips parted for a moment, and she knew that he knew. Suddenly she shook her head almost violently, as if trying to rid herself of a song that had been stuck in her head for hours. Upon seeing Harry look at her as though she was mad, Hermione extended her hand to the couch, motioning him to sit down.

Glaring at Snape, he complied, though he did not lower his wand. Her eyes pleaded for Severus to also take a seat, but that was where he drew the line; he would not make it seem like he and Harry were equals, so he satisfied himself in standing beside Hermione. Very slowly, she began to speak.

Severus was in admiration of how eloquently Hermione was able to explain everything. She told the tale in a way that seemed to have no loopholes or room for consternation. The only disturbance during the telling was when she said that they were now in a relationship, to which Harry twitched obviously, almost dropping his wand.

He did not hear much of what Hermione was telling Harry, he more so felt it. He felt his anger gently ebb away as he watched her soft lips wrap around the words she was speaking. How could anyone remain angry while such a beautiful being graced their presence? This, however, was overreaching.

Too quickly did Hermione finish clarifying the details of what Ginny had revealed to Harry, too quickly did she turn to Severus expectantly. He did not understand at first why she had stopped, but he soon remembered. Now Hermione wanted to tell him about the power they had discovered, and she was waiting for him to leave, for she knew he did not want to remain in company for this particular bit.

Something in the back of his mind told him that he should not abandon her, not while she was still so troubled beneath the surface. He pleased his conscience by retreating to the far corner of the room behind the desk, and picking up a random book to immerse himself in. As much as he tried, Severus could not break apart from the present setting while reading as he usually could, so he settled himself in staring at a fixed spot on the page and listening to the interactions passing on the other side of the cauldron.

“Harry, I –“

“Stop, I don’t want to hear any more! I’ve listened to enough, thank you very much, and I don’t intend to hear any more ‘good news.’ Nothing you can say to me will make me think this is okay, so –“

”No, please! You don’t understand – I know there was a reason that we were meant to be together, and I’m trying to tell you!”

“Yeah, well I’m done listening. There is no ‘reason’; this is all so stupid, Hermione, can’t you see that? I thought you of all people would be upset when Ron…it doesn’t even matter – nothing matters anymore!” He was yelling at this point, and Severus could not keep his eyes away. Harry looked wounded, and he was trying to conceal it with anger. That was obvious, for Severus himself was skilled in what Potter was trying to attempt. Hermione was almost pleading with him. “You don’t care about Ron; as soon as he was out of the way, you let Snape move in! I don’t even know you anymore –“

“DON’T!” Hermione shrieked suddenly, her shoulders beginning to shake as she began to cry. “Harry, you know that’s not t-true, you know I cared for him! H-how can you say something like that?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know anything about you anymore!” Harry got to his feet and looked like he was about to throw something. “I thought I knew everything about you, but then you turn around and do something like this! You don’t know how many people you are hurting because of this, and I don’t think you care! I know you don’t care about me, you don’t even try to understand….”

“Harry, H-Harry,” Hermione was sobbing now, quite out of control. Severus’s muscles tightened while he listened to Harry yell at her, forcing her to hear the things that Severus knew were coming. It all had to do with him, the blame for everything that goes wrong, the one that never fit into someone else enough not to tear their lives apart. He was sickened with self-loathing, for because of him, Hermione’s friends were turning their backs upon her.

“Harry, you’re s-so wrong! I know I haven’t always u-understood before, but now I do – I saw Ron’s b-body, Harry! I saw it, and I can’t make it go away!” Hermione put her hands to her head and closed her eyes as if forcing the image to leave, but it would not. It was plain as anything in Severus’s mind as well, and he knew how horrifying the sight must be to her. But he could do nothing…. “For the first time, I know h-how you’re feeling, Harry, but you must feel ten times worse, I know! But please…please don’t tell me I’m hurting p-people…do not….”

She was shaking so much that she had to sit down. Severus could not take it any longer. He got up quickly and went into the storage closet; he knew that Harry was waiting for him to emerge so he could curse him, no doubt, but Severus did not care about Potter right now. After a moment’s rummaging, he finally found the small bottle he had saved from the last time he had brewed it.

Severus swept across the room with much speed and knelt beside Hermione, who had covered her face with her hands.

“Get away from her!” Harry yelled, and aimed a curse, but Severus beat him to the punch. With his wand hand, he put up a shield that Harry could not penetrate, and with his left hand, he tried to make Hermione move her hands so he could give her the potion. She was so upset.

“Hermione,” Severus coaxed in a low voice. “Let me help you. It’s all right….” Gradually, she lowered her hands, revealing her blotchy face and red eyes. Severus seized his chance and poured the bottle into her mouth until she had swallowed it all. Instantly her muscles relaxed and she stopped shaking. While she took several deep breaths, Severus let down the shield and stared coldly at Harry, who was looking at Hermione as though he now wished he hadn’t made her cry.

“What did you give her?” Harry spat suddenly at Severus, who in turn snorted with annoyed humor.

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone, as if I had anything to do with upsetting her,” Severus replied with venom. “It was a Calming Draught, which she wouldn’t have needed if you hadn’t berated her until she couldn’t stand or speak.”

“Berate?! No, I told her what everyone is thinking behind your backs. This is all your fault, Snape; if you hadn’t grabbed her while she was weak, then none of this would be happening.” Severus felt his insides boiling. This was exactly what he didn’t want him to say, that it was his fault. If Hermione began to believe it…Severus refused to think on it. Instead, his hand gripped his wand until his knuckles turned white in an attempt to refrain from hexing Harry.

“Your haughty head has migrated to your mouth, Potter. As always, you say whatever you please and think you can do anything simply because you are the ‘Chosen One’. Well, you’ve never fooled me. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were just as insolent and arrogant as your filthy father,” Severus’s lip curled maliciously.

Harry’s loathing for Snape that had been building up over the past 7 years had reached its limit. Apparently Harry had picked up on nonverbal spells over the past 6 moths, which Severus could honestly say he was not expecting. Harry flicked his wand, and the next thing Severus knew, something white-hot had swept the right side of his face. He did not need to touch it to know that he was bleeding.

Indulging in the duel resurfacing, Severus regained his composure and whipped his wand forward, resulting in Harry doing an awkward sort of back flip from an invisible force and landing spread-eagled on the floor, where he visibly winced in pain as his head smacked against the floor. He looked a little dizzy, but he quickly shook it off and got up as he yelled, “Incarcerous!”

Severus was ready this time, and once again conjured a shield charm, but it was much larger than expected. Confused, he looked over and saw that Hermione’s wand was raised and that she too had created a shield. In that second, Harry’s curse rebounded off the shield and hit him square in the chest. Invisible ropes immediately bound him so that he could not move.

He snarled in frustration, for his wand had been blown from his hand and was lying on the ground beside him. Removing the shield charm, Severus reached down and picked up the wand, twirling it in his fingers with a remote sense of pleasure in seeing Harry tied up. Hermione, on the other hand, was not looking at Harry. She quietly conjured a bandage and handed it to Severus, who took it and placed it on his cut, wiping the excess blood from his face with his sleeve as he did so. This would do until he could properly heal it.

Hermione distinctly looked troubled still. Yes, the Calming Draught kept her composed, but that did not change anything she was feeling. Taking a deep breath, she looked brought her eyes up to Harry and held them for a moment. Her mouth opened and closed once in an attempt to let words escape it before she finally formed them.

“H-Harry, I am sorry that you are upset. I know that you will never understand this, or like it…I was stupid to think you would, but you have to listen to me. Please don’t interrupt me, or I will Silence you.”

Severus was surprised at the tone of her voice. It was not angry, nor pleading, but simply sad. It was a great sadness that seemed rooted in her heart from the fact that Harry too was turning on her. Apparently, Harry also sensed the emotion behind her soft voice, and he did not protest. His eyebrows rose for a second, then returned to their scowl in Severus’s direction. Snape smirked with the satisfaction of authority while he stood over Harry. Hermione continued to speak, a little louder now.

“There was a reason that I wanted to talk to you, and the reason is that,” she paused for a second and breathed in deeply before, “we think we have found the power to defeat Voldemort.” Harry simply stared at her.

“Dumbledore told me that years ago. It’s the love my mother left me, and that’s all. And it’s gone now that Voldemort has my blood in his veins, so I don’t have that power anymore. If that’s all you figured out, then you’ve been wasting your-“

“No, Harry,” Hermione stopped him, talking slowly in the effort of trying to make him understand, “I think Dumbledore was wrong…or maybe he knew all along, but it doesn’t matter, seeing as how we’ll never know. That’s not the poi-“

“Yeah, and the reason we’ll never know is the git beside you!” Harry burst out.

Severus’s lip curled in frustration and extreme irritation. Enough of this…. With a flick of his wand, Harry was Silenced. Severus’s extremities felt like ice…they always did when someone brought up Dumbledore’s death. Following that order was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever done, and a close second was telling everyone the truth. He wasn’t about to explain it to Potter, though.

“Don’t call him that!” Hermione said sharply. She looked falteringly at Severus for a moment, who looked away with a blink, clearly showing that he did not want to be a part of this once again. “Listen, Harry, Severus has been on our side all along. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone in the Order – he just told everyone the whole story in McGonagall’s office, but I will not make him do it again for you. You’ll just have to trust me.”

It was obvious that if Harry could speak, he would have rebuked her statements, but of course he could not. Severus felt a warmth creep up inside of him, the same warmth that came every time Hermione made a caring gesture toward him. Maybe it was because before her, only one other person was genuinely kind to him, but that ended much too soon….

“Anyway, we have discovered that love is an actual power, one that can be used for destruction as well as for good. This isn’t about Severus and I now, Harry, this is about you and Voldemort. I am almost sure that this is the power described in the prophecy. I want to teach you, I want to help you! Please let me,” Hermione finished softly. Harry looked very skeptical, and Hermione took that as a sign that he needed to be convinced.

She reached out and grabbed Severus’s left hand and closed her eyes. Severus simply looked at her; even when she wasn’t moving, she was very beautiful – no longer a girl, but a mature young adult. He wondered if she knew how much she had transformed in his presence. Meanwhile, his fingers were getting hotter and hotter each passing second, but his hand did not burn. Severus was almost sure that Hermione was waiting for him to do something with the power, but even if he was wrong, he could not resist.

He looked down at his hand, which was steadily glowing brighter, and quickly whipped his head up to Harry, who was staring at their hands with incredulous eyes. Concentrating on focusing the energy, the light circling their grip flew immediately across the room and hit Harry across the shoulder. His legs buckled from the release of pressure, and he fell, but quickly got back up.

“What…wait…how did you do that?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Harry! The spells holding you have broken!” She looked up at Severus, who was thinking the same thing. Spells such as the ones he cast on Harry had only one countercurse, which was an incantation, but their power cancelled them out. Surely this was some sign that his was truly the right path to be led down.

Severus turned back to look at Harry, who was still looking at their joined hands as if mesmerized. “You didn’t answer me,” he said, “How did you do that?”

Hermione faltered for only a moment before replying, “Love. This is ‘the power the Dark Lord knows not’; figuratively, yes, but also literally. He could never perform this magic because he is so evil, but you can!”

Harry was looking from Severus to Hermione as if something was dawning upon him. Apparently, he had not quite believed it all until just now, when she said the word love. True, he did not like it, but it was obvious that he now understood. Severus had a fleeting urge to jinx his eyes shut so they would stop staring at him in that way, but surely that would be a bad move now that they had his attention.

“And…I’m supposed to use what you just did against Voldemort?” Harry asked slowly, the doubt reforming under his words.

Severus caught him in the act. “You cannot have the least form of doubt beneath you while you use this power or it will not work. You have to be fully focused and determined, but I have never seen you master either of those traits,” he mocked, ignoring the glare from Hermione.

“Severus, don’t,” she said sharply in a tone that he very much did not appreciate. Before he could retaliate, she continued speaking. “I can try to teach you how to do it, Harry, but you have to want to – and you have to have love. Well, no, I know that you have love in you, but you must be willing to bring it forth freely. Give this a chance, please…I know that this is it, Harry, believe me.”

She was staring him down, forcing Harry to trust her. Flitting momentarily into Harry’s mind, Severus saw the extreme decision-making going on in his head. He wanted to not believe, simply on principle, but when had Hermione ever been wrong? Harry nodded curtly after a moment, but now he was seemingly refusing to look at Severus, a change that he could honestly say did not vex him.

Wishing very much sink into peaceful seclusion, for he had had much too much time in the limelight today, Severus silently removed himself from their presence. It was only after he was in his armchair in his room that he considered that Hermione may not be able to perform it without him there. However, that thought was quickly scratched, for their mental bond was strong enough to substitute physical touch. Once more, Severus picked up a random book from his nightstand and opened it, but had surprisingly no desire to read.

Strange. Reading had always been the only way to calm himself down after a particularly unpleasant incident, but apparently his likings were changing and leaving him behind. It took several minutes of staring blankly around his bedroom for Severus to realize what was gradually taking the place of his dear books -

And it was still in the room which, Severus was beginning to think, he had left too quickly.



I am currently starting the next chapter, but I really can't promise how soon I'll get it up . Please don't be mad if it's over a week (but I will try very hard to get it done before then)! Thank you so much for all of you have been supporting me and reviewing, it helps me so much! And on that note, leave all feedback here. Thanks!

*Lex

Chapter 24 - Ok, this chapter has a lot of information buzzing through it, and I really want to know if it was too much stuff plugged into it. Personally, I think it all fits into the storyline, or maybe I just want to start condensing, I don't know. Either way, I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Read on!



The following morning, Hermione and Severus were perusing their collection of potions, trying to decide which to multiply for the battle and which were not necessary.

“I still say that it would be a good idea to stock up on the Polyjuice Potion!” Hermione tried to convince Severus.

He sighed irritably. “I’ve said this at least three times now – it will not matter what our appearances are, it will be too late to hide anything. We must simply face it as we are.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “Yes, but what about Harry? I really think that we would have an element of surprise if the Death Eaters would not be able to find him.”

Severus rolled his eyes almost playfully and removed himself from the storage closet. He sat down in the sitting room, taking up the whole couch by extending his legs lazily. “Once again, we don’t know how long this will take, and it would be too much effort to track him down to give him more Potion every hour. And even if the Death Eaters don’t recognize him, Voldemort will because of their bond. Not to mention, the task of actually persuading Potter to take it.” He formed his words about Harry as carefully as someone who loathed him could, for Hermione was a little sensitive on the subject.

In fact, she had been subdued ever since the little reverie into Harry’s mind, but with good reason. Severus truly hated seeing her in such a way, but perhaps he hated even more the fact that he could not do anything for her. Yes, that was it. Try as he might, Severus failed in trying to persuade her to stop thinking about what she had seen. He could feel how deeply it had affected her, and yet all he could do was give her a dreamless sleep potion.

Also, Severus wished very much now that he would have stayed in that room while Hermione and Harry were alone. Hermione had informed him that she had taught Harry all that she could about this power and let him read the book on Legilimency. She assured Severus that Harry knew the concept well, but the real matter here was Potter’s level of trust. If he had complete faith in Hermione, and even love, then he would be able to perform this task; if he doubted, there was no chance. And from the blank tone in which Hermione had explained all of this to Severus, it seemed as though Harry was leaning more toward the latter. Alas, they had done all they could do.

For Potter, that is…Severus found himself thinking with a sideways look at Hermione as she too emerged from rummaging in the closet and came over to sit with him. He reluctantly adjusted his position so that she could sit close to him, debating all the while whether or not to say what was eating at him. The moment she leaned her head against the side of his chest and heavily sighed involuntarily, he knew that it would help.

“Hermione,” he started quietly, trying to make it clear that he was about to say something important. She looked up at him, her brown eyes shiny with tears unshed. He blinked and looked away while he continued. “I understand what you are feeling right now…no,” Severus interjected as she opened her mouth, “I haven’t told you this before. On the contrary, I have not told anyone, not even Dumbledore.”

This caught her attention, and she repositioned herself so that she could have a clear view of his face while he spoke. Severus immediately wished he had not started this conversation, for it was true that this may be the one and only thing that not even Dumbledore had known, but he had already opened it up.

He paused for a moment. “And yet, I would not do it justice if I simply told you. Let me in,” Severus turned back to her and stared into her eyes, willing her to let him take control of her mind for the present. She consented, breathing a little faster from the anticipation. He felt the connection between himself and Hermione broaden as he replayed the memory that had haunted him for 16 years. Only the force of their union kept him from backing out now, for all he could do was watch, just like Hermione, but it was many times worse for him….

Severus was alone in his sitting room in Spinner’s End, thinking very hard about a conversation he had had with Dumbledore. Was it all worth it? No, of course not, what had he been thinking? Stupid, stupid, the lot of it. He was debating very seriously about leaving his haven to venture into the unknown that could be happening at his very moment. But he was –

He snarled in sudden pain, but this was very different – something was wrong. Furiously rolling up the left sleeve of his robes, his eyes widened as he saw the Dark Mark slowly fading back into his arm, almost slithering as it did so. It burned horribly, but Severus was too astonished after the first moment to notice.

But what did this mean? The Dark Lord had talked of both the Potters and the Longbottoms, and he was going to make his presence known at one of their households tonight. Which one, he did not say. He had indeed asked for her to be spared, but…. Severus had a horrible feeling beginning to settle in his stomach, that all was most certainly not well. He also felt a lack of the presence that had been pressing on him ever since he had joined the Death Eaters, but alas, some good things come about through things evil. Knowing in his heart what had happened, but refusing to believe until there was proof, Severus quickly got to his feet and Disapparated.

He reappeared in the heart of Godric’s Hollow, and immediately saw it. There, at the end of the lane, was the house of the Potter’s, the right corner of the upper floor exploded. The house was charred on that side, and some of it had broken, creating rubble around the yard. The door was off its hinges.

Muggles were coming out of their houses after hearing the explosion that broke the house, but of course they could see nothing. Severus knew the Ministry or the Order would be arriving any moment, so he wasted no time. Wrapping his cloak around himself, he started running to the gate. No one noticed or cared that there was a man entering the invisible lot, for he blended into nothingness against the dark that was beginning to suffocate him.

Each footstep seemed to scream at him to turn around, to not approach the house, but he ignored it. The closer he came, the more people behind him he heard screaming – surely the yelling was coming from wizards who knew what had happened. This did nothing to reassure him. Finally he reached the entrance into the home, and the first thing he saw was the body of James Potter. There was a mingled emotion in the throat; he had always hated James for innumerable reasons, but did he ever want him dead? Severus could not come up with an answer, but silently moved past, making sure not to look into his face again.

Things were thrown about, some things damaged on his way through the kitchen and up the stairs. The first door on the right was burnt and warped – this was where it had happened. A single touch and the door fell, revealing the grotesque scene. Every single thing that had been in the nursery (he assumed it was the nursery from the wallpaper, but that was the only thing remotely distinguishable) was destroyed from some extreme energy. The wall across from him was blown away, making the night air part of the interior of the house.

The floor was unsteady, yet Severus walked upon it. He cared nothing for his own safety, not when he saw a small piece of red hair peeking out from under some fallen boards from the ceiling. His breath was caught in his chest as he slowly bent down and moved away the debris. Lily was there, beautiful even in death. Her body was twisted, her mouth agape in terror, but her eyes were the worst. There was no light, no joy, nothing behind the pale sheen they had not yet lost. Severus was not aware of himself crying until he saw a tear splash on her face.

He felt almost as if that was a disgrace to her body, and he wiped it away, brushing her hair off her face as he did so. Severus balled his hands into fists, shaking over the body of the only person he had ever wanted to save. This was wretched, sick…he could not come close to stopping his emotions from taking over. Then he heard it –

Some one was crying. No, a child was crying. Severus had a feeling it had been crying the whole time, but he had been deaf until this moment. Disbelief clutching his heart, he got up unsteadily and edged his way to a bit of the floor that had caved in. Peering down, searching for the source of the wailing, he saw movement in the first floor living room.

Jerking as though to disappear, Severus realized that the movement was much too small to be a grown person. Could it be…? With one final tortured look at Lily Potter, he went back down the staircase, several portraits falling down as he did so. He went back into the kitchen and turned left, into the living room which he had not cared to enter before. Since this room was below the nursery, the topmost part of the ceiling had also broken, scattering fragments of wreckage all about.

Moving cautiously, Severus crossed the room to where the crying was emanating. Oh, how he wished it would stop. He saw that the crib from above had fallen through the floor, landing upon the couch which was broken. Surely landing on the soft cushions was a miracle for the child – otherwise the fall would have killed him. Gently pushing aside the blankets and wood, a baby came into view. He was only about a year old; this had to be Harry Potter. But that was impossible, Voldemort had tried to kill him…how could a baby survive, while someone as powerful as the Dark Lord could not? His eyes widened in astonishment.

Harry, upon seeing Severus, stopped crying momentarily in surprise, but recommenced when he saw that this was not his mother or father. Under a tuft of ebony hair, something gleaming red was poking through. With a mixture of discomfort and almost fear, Severus extended a hand and moved the boy’s hair to see a brilliantly scarlet lighting-shaped scar. He could not help but sharply gasp – this was a cursed scar, one from Dark Magic. It was true then…this child had escaped Death with only a small mark as a souvenir. His gaze traveled to the baby’s eyes. Severus was taken aback by how alike they were to Lily’s, but they were full of life, not yet claimed by Death. How that was possible, he still did not know, but he would not dare force his mentality farther by continuing to look into the eyes.

Suddenly he heard a great roar…was it an engine? Possibly, but it soon died and Severus perceived the sound of heavy footsteps running close to the site. But where would he go now? Surely not to his lonely home, where the solitude would only strangle him. No, he was going somewhere else, going to the only other person who he could possibly attempt to blame for this tragedy. Not wasting a moment, he twisted in his place and Disapparated for Hogwarts, the last thing he saw being those deep green eyes crying for someone to help –

Severus pulled away from Hermione mentally, only to find himself shaking as if he had just been there moments ago. He did not realize that his breathing was shallow until he had to force himself to regulate it due to dizziness. Severus’s face grew warm as he felt Hermione’s gaze upon him, yet he could not look at her. Why did he always have to empty himself to her, why? The answer to that question hung in the air as he seriously considered his state of mind and why it was changing so rapidly under this young woman’s influence, though she most likely did not even suspect.

He finally succumbed to the urge to glance at Hermione, and when he did, his lips parted very slightly in surprise. She was crying, the tears positively spilling down her face, but she did not look sad. Of all ridiculous things, she appeared almost happy. There were no words needed between them, but Hermione instead wrapped her arms tightly around his back in a comforting embrace; this said everything.

…No, I’m not smiling because I think that was foolish or stupid, I am so happy that you are willing to trust me with such things. I will always be there for you. Thank you for understanding, thank you for watching that with me, thank you for helping me when I’m too proud to admit I need and want it. I love you, I love you….

It’s funny how slowly time goes when you are anticipating something, yet how fast it flies past you when you start to forget about what you’ve been anticipating. Severus had to pull away from Hermione after a very long time to remember that they were supposed to meet with McGonagall in 10 minutes to discuss the plan.

Hermione nodded, but Severus knew that she didn’t want to leave the room again – she would be content with living forever between these walls as long as he was there, and honestly he couldn’t disagree. Suddenly Hermione stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Severus asked, standing up as well. Hermione’s expression had changed to something of wild jubilation, an idea forming in her head. She closed her eyes for a moment in thought, and finally formed her words.

“Severus, the war ends tomorrow,” she started, and he could not help but sigh quietly, for he did not want her to start with this again. She was headed somewhere else entirely, however. “We can’t change what is going to happen, but afterwards there is nothing to stop us from anything.” Severus caught on and raised his eyebrows at her boldness, though it was something he did like about her.

“Yes,” he murmured, thoughts racing fast and furious as if he was under influence of firewhiskey.

“This power that we share proves that we are in love with each other, so why must we continue the way we have been? We’ve already told everyone, it’s no secret…Voldemort won’t know until his very last moment….” Her tone of voice informed Severus that she wanted him to say it, since she put up the effort of suggestion. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry with the nervousness of a schoolboy. He shook the strange sensation away; Hermione’s ecstasy was filling him up like nothing he had felt before. Severus licked his lips.

“Where?” he asked.

“Anywhere!” Hermione squealed in excitement. “It wouldn’t matter as long as we could find someone to perform it. Oh, whoever is performing the funeral can do it, yes!” Severus felt the sides of his mouth trying to smile, and he finally yielded. Hermione’s grin broadened further still. He felt lightheaded – her love was almost intoxicating.

“Yes, but when?”

Hermione bit her lip as she said slowly, “The moment it’s over. Will you promise? No matter where we are in the castle, you will find me and it’ll be arranged?”

The smallest twinge of worry crossed his line of thought as Severus considered the possibility that one of them may not make it to the end of the battle, but that idea fell through. This would give him something to work towards, something to make him want to fight harder and live long enough to make his life mean something more – for Hermione. “I promise,” he agreed, but that was all he needed to say. She cried out and flung her arms around him, he put one hand behind her head and kissed her passionately, so happy that he could say nothing more. Using every fiber of his self-control, Severus admitted that they would be late for McGonagall if they did not leave now.

Five minutes later saw them sitting in her office. Well, Hermione was sitting across from Minerva, but Severus was standing; he so hated having the appearance that he was a lesser to whomever was behind the desk, but of course that had not been the case with Dumbledore.

Regardless of how they were positioned, McGonagall was eyeing them strangely. It looked much like suspicion (for Hermione had not been able to control her glee as Severus could, therefore she looked like a child who had just been gifted an entire candy store), yet there was a deeper emotion under it that Severus could not put his finger on. Enough of this waiting.

“Can we begin here?” he asked with more impatience than he intended. “We cannot be expected to simply wait until time suits you for speaking.”

She gave him a very pointed glare before starting. “Funeral arrangements have been made, and of course all guests have been notified of the situation. The very moment the battle starts, I shall lift the Apparition restrictions on the Great Hall so that those who only wanted to pay Mr. Weasley his respects shall be able to escape. Yesterday I informed the students about what was happening, and all those underage will leave by this evening. Those of age are allowed to stay if they wish, and I actually have quite a list of those who will,” she paused, saying the last bit reproachfully, quite obviously worried for their safety. “After your departure yesterday, we members of the Order devised a strategy, but I believe it would be much more beneficial if you, Severus, enlightened us on Voldemort’s plan of action.” This was a statement not a request.

Severus refrained himself from sneering at her, and contented himself in saying, “Well, I believe that the less Voldemort suspects we know, the longer we can keep up the charade.” It was so matter-of-fact that McGonagall did not question him, but instead pursed her lips tightly.

“On the other hand, Minerva, I do think that we should know the plan you decided upon,” Hermione commented.

She nodded curtly and informed her and Severus as to just where everyone should be and what defense they were going to have on hand. After running through this, McGonagall turned to Severus and said rather irritably, “Will this fit well into what Voldemort is plotting?”

Severus had to think for a moment. The Dark Lord had formulated his plans the moment he learned of the funeral, and for being hasty, Severus had to ruefully admit that they were swift and powerful – altogether good for such a fight. He had not told anyone (not even Hermione) what Voldemort had told him because, as he said, the less they knew the better. He had not decided yet exactly when he would make his true side known in the battle, but regardless, their defenses seemed to match up to the offense.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Severus stated.

There was a small pause before Hermione’s small voice said, “And Harry? You failed to mention him.” Severus felt a sudden tension from her and so wished that she would return the smile to her face.

McGonagall sighed, looking down at some random papers as though they could help her. “Frankly, we do not know exactly what he is planning on doing. Potter refused to go through with any predetermined arrangement, he simply said that he knew what he had to do and we couldn’t do anything to change it.” She paused and looked back up at them. “This power we discussed…did you show him? Does Potter understand?”

Hermione answered, for Severus did not really know the answer to the question. “Er, yes I think so. I did everything I could to teach him, but none of us will really know until the moment comes.” Silence fell upon the room for several moments, each of its occupants contemplating the possibilities of that moment – good and bad.

Finally Hermione plucked up the courage to ask McGonagall something, Severus could feel it. “Minerva,” she started choosing her words carefully. “I have been wanting to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Well, first I must tell you that on the day Dennis Creevey was attacked, and you sent Ginny and me into this office for that potion, I took two letters. They were addressed to us, but apparently you had already opened them. I want to know why.” Her voice had been growing a little louder with each minute pause in the sentences. Upon hearing this, Severus arched an eyebrow – if it had been his letters in question, Minerva would have much to answer to.

McGonagall stared at Hermione for several moments, then blinked, taking her glasses off and rubbing them on her cloak. When she replaced her glasses, Severus saw the color rather high on her cheeks, but regardless, looking much older than before this question was asked.

“I cannot blame you for taking the letters…or for questioning me. It was a foolish thing to do, very unprofessional of me. You see I-I was worried. I knew the danger they were facing, and I also knew that you and Miss Weasley were none too pleased about remaining at Hogwarts. I did not want them to say anything to you in a letter that might have convinced you to leave this safety and join them.”

Severus could not believe the way Minerva was speaking. He had never heard her this way, so soft and ashamed of herself. For a fleeting moment, he was reminded of Dumbledore for reasons he could not quite put his finger on.

“Yes, but they did,” Hermione said back a little harshly. “Ron concealed part of the letter, and he –“

“Oh, yes,” McGonagall closed her eyes and nodded, “yes, I noticed a Concealment Charm and I too read what he wrote. That is why I did not give the letter to you, for fear of how it would affect you, but I see that was a mistake.”

“It’s rather disappointing to see how lightly the word ‘privacy’ is used by some,” Severus interjected dangerously, angry for Hermione’s sake. “I assure you, if you had been reading anything of my -“

“Severus, don’t,” Hermione whispered, putting her hand on his arm. It was so soothing; it felt once again as if Firewhiskey was making him feel faint and he complied. Altogether, the sensation was blissful, though he would rather not be taken in by it while under McGonagall’s eye.

“Thank you, Minerva,” Hermione said to her. “I think we should be going now.” With a knowing glance up at Severus, she turned to leave.

“Hermione, Severus,” McGonagall said suddenly, in a tone which quite implied that she had been deliberating on whether or not to continue. They looked at her, Severus detecting that level in her voice he had heard before but did not understand.

“I have one last thing to say,” she said, folding her hands neatly on her lap and looking from one person to the other. “I was wrong, and I must apologize. I looked too quickly and judged you too harshly. After what you two said and did in my office earlier today…well…I understand, and I am sorry for not taking the time to do so before.” This was such a simply apology, and yet it was such a huge thing for McGonagall to do. Severus looked down at Hermione, who was smiling broadly again.

“See? Didn’t I say that people would understand?” Hermione’s thought projected toward him. He couldn’t help but smirk at her wild happiness that not yet everyone was turning their backs on her – someone was willing to see through the first impression and look beneath.

“Thank you!” she breathed and just before exiting, Hermione ran up and pulled McGonagall into a hug which lifted her out of her chair. Hermione then walked right out of the room, leaving a very shocked Minerva and a very amused Severus, who quickly followed her lead.



Oh, time, time...what a precious thing to have, yet those who need it rarely ever possess enough of it. This chapter is finally here, and yet I still must start on the next. The next one I believe will be the battle...or preceding the battle, but regardless it shall be good . Thank you so much for waiting for this post, and I'd love to hear from you in feedback. Well, I'm off to work on chapter 25. Until next post!

*Lex

Chapter 25

Her heart was thumping magnificently against her chest, quite obviously trying to escape the vessel that was attempting to calm it. Hermione did not know exactly why she couldn’t control the frantic beating of her pulse; it could have been the sheer emotion emanating from the incredibly grief-stricken room, or it may have been the danger that it knew was about to come.

Hermione was sitting at the very back of the Great Hall, Severus beside her with his hand comfortingly on her arm. The four house tables were pushed aside and hundreds of small white folding chairs replaced them. Every single person who was fighting was spread out before Hermione, all eyes upon either the old tufty-haired wizard speaking at the Headmaster’s stand or the casket he was standing over. Hermione recognized the fact that she could not look at it.

Amongst those in the Great Hall were all the teachers, every member of the Order, most of the students who had been involved in Dumbledore’s Army, more red-headed Weasley relatives than you could count, Aberforth Dumbledore, and a great many more. And Harry, who was somewhere in the room under the Invisibility Cloak.

Well, Hermione corrected herself, he is supposed to be in this room, not that we would know if he wasn’t, though. Upon thinking it over, she was almost sure that he would probably have paid Ron his respects and then left to a more secluded place of mourning, or of self-preparation…. Hermione would have done the same if she could have.

“…valor which shall never be forgotten.” The small wizard leading the ceremony had concluded his speech. Ginny, who was seated in the very front row, slowly got to her feet and made her way to the stand. She was the last person; she had wanted to speak. Hermione silently admired Ginny for her bravery at this moment; she could never have gotten up there to do this.

Suddenly Severus’s grip tightened painfully on her upper arm and she gasped in surprise; she knew he had felt his Mark. He shook his head, telling her not to worry or stray from the plan, and quietly stood up and swept out of the room, unnoticed by anyone except Hermione.

This was it.

Hermione shakily got to her feet and moved to the center aisle. Taking a deep breath, she started to walk towards the front of the Great Hall, heads turning as she did so. With her gaze she found Minerva in the crowd of faces, tensely waiting…Hermione nodded, and the entire room stirred.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, sprang from his seat with much speed and ran to the podium that Ginny was now vacating, her face pale. His low, booming voice overpowered the terrified mutterings beginning to form.

“Anyone not wishing to fight must Apparate this minute, for the restriction has been lifted for only a short time,” he said loudly. There was a very few number of Disapparating “pops” that sounded, for only the old and the feeble were not going to stay. Shacklebolt continued quickly, “Remain where you are until we give the signal; they must not suspect that we are prepared yet. We shall continue as though we know nothing, but be ready, for they are here.”

This last statement was met with, surprisingly, silence as all those in the room realized the gravity of the situation. The silence continued for several minutes that seemed like hours, every ear straining to hear a betrayal of a presence, every hand tightening the grip on a wand. Hermione felt as though frozen to the spot, half-way between the entrance and the front of the Great Hall. Then it happened.

A resounding crash sounded through the hall as something enormous smashed into the back wall. There was a roar of something non-human that overpowered those of the combatants beginning to scatter – giants. There must have been at least ten, all ripping and pounding at the wall, trying to bring it down. Yes, there we protective enchantments, but the strength of ten giants was much greater than that of a wizard and, unfortunately, unexpected.

Hermione seemed to snap out of a trance as her body moved into action, her mind wandering to the man somewhere else in the castle. Before she left the Great Hall, she saw Minerva waving her wand complicatedly over Ron’s coffin, which Transfigured into a single candle and seemed to sink slowly and carefully right through the floor. As they had figured previously, the exact spot beneath this one was a spare classroom in the dungeons; it should be safe there. Hermione tore her gaze away from it and began sprinting out into the entrance hall.

Another explosion and a burst of air told her that the giants had broken through the wall. She did not want to look, but Hermione heard screaming emanating from there. Even though Severus had not told her the plan for the Death Eaters, Hermione’s common sense suggested that while the giants were making a distraction, there would probably be a –

Before Hermione could even finish the thought, she was proven correct. Voldemort was making his attack on the opposite side of the castle. Hermione yelled to anyone who could hear her that they were coming through the other way. Without waiting to see who was following her, she ran through the entrance hall and into the west corridor. No, this was the wrong way, no one was here.

Rather confused, Hermione retraced her steps and turned into the entrance to the Grand Staircase and gasped. There was a portrait on the second floor which was cracked, and Death Eaters were streaming out of it. This can’t be possible! The only way they could do this is if there was some sort of passageway, but Harry had never mentioned that one on the Marauder’s Map…. Hermione had to stop thinking about it, for it would not help her in the situation. Her heart still beating rapidly, she turned around to go warn others when she heard shouting coming from the Death Eaters. Not wanting to be seen, she ducked behind a pillar and peered upwards. With a jolt, she saw that it was Severus holding open the portrait, and he was apparently having an argument with Yaxley over something.

Before three seconds passed, Severus stunned Yaxley and glared at the others climbing through the whole with a look that clearly stated, “Let’s see any more of you try to cross me.” Hermione bit her lip – that was foolish, he shouldn’t have stunned him! What if they suspected? She looked up once more and was very surprised to see Severus staring straight at her.

“Get away, get help – they will kill you,” his voice rang through her head and shook her core into action.

“Protect yourself,” she replied pleadingly before she sprinted back into the Entrance Hall. Through the broken doors into the Great Hall, she could see Kingsley, Tonks, and Charlie Weasley attempting to bring down the giants. Professor Sprout careened past her, holding a seed in a bottle which was clearly marked, “Instant Devil’s Snare.”

Hermione put her wand to her throat and magnified her voice. “The Death Eaters are on the Grand Staircase!” she yelled over everything, and in reply at least ten Order members and seventh years turned their heads to her and went in for attack. McGonagall, her hair frenzied and her glasses askew, screamed, “Inanimatus Mobilium!” Hermione heard the echoes all across the castle as things sprang to life. Suits of armor, desks, silverware, banners – everything was suddenly moving around them and head toward the stem of Death Eaters now charging into the entrance hall. Spells flew everywhere as the combat began, it was impossible to focus a curse on anyone for more than a second. Hermione watched as several Hufflepuff banners glided gently toward MacNair and then instantly wrapped themselves tightly around him, rendering him immobile and quite unprotected from the ricochet spells.

An explosion on Hermione’s right side, and she collapsed from the force. Feeling blood on her right upper arm, she pushed herself up and her eyes widened. The front door was broken open; it looked as though Voldemort had been recruiting Dark creatures, and they were joining the fight. Dementors, fellow giants, Fenrir Greyback with several following bloodthirsty wolves, and (Hermione almost retched) Inferi were pushing through the rebel that Fenrir had created while casting a spell to bring down the protectives enchantments.

Even more screams were echoing around her as the Inferi led the little party, the wolves snarling and beginning to run after unfortunate victims.

“Incendio Maxima!” Hermione yelled, pointing at the Inferi and drawing a circle with her wand. Her incredibly powerful fire surrounded the corpses, causing them to halt and shrink back a little. Hermione knew that her spell would not last forever, but in the meantime she wasn’t going to play the prey for the dementors whose chill she was already beginning to feel in her chest.

She weaved through the duels and made her way back to the Grand Staircase where there were no more Death Eaters climbing through the portrait, but they were still coming down the staircase. Hermione realized too late that it was a poor choice to walk right into where the Death Eaters were congregating.

“Well, well, well, look who’s here,” a sneering voice sounded maliciously near her. She whipped around to see Lucius Malfoy pointing his wand right at her heart. “You may have escaped last time, but there’s nowhere to hide now. Avad-“

He crumpled, someone from behind him had stupefied him. “No, she is mine to finish!” Hermione heard Severus yelling. She breathed a sigh of relief, for she would not have been able to block the deadly curse he had been about to cast. Severus was running, faster than the others, to get to her first.

”Duel me,” he thought to her. As he came closer, they began to cast spells at each other. From the outside, it was a convincing act; yet only they knew that these spells were much too weak to do any real harm.

“I am so scared for you, Severus,” Hermione projected fervently, her face contorted in mock anger. “When are you going to switch sides?”

He did not answer her for a moment, then his voice in her head came fast and anxious. “I do not know, but that is not important. You shall know when it happens. We have a larger problem at the moment; Voldemort is coming for Potter. You must find him and –“

“And make sure he is ready,” she finished for him. He gave the slightest of nods before falling backwards. Hermione was worried for only a millisecond, but she soon realized that he was acting to give her time to run. Not passing up the chance, she fled back through the entrance hall and into the Great Hall. It was only then that she realized how hard a task she had been given.

How on earth am I going to find Harry?! He’s wearing the Invisibility cloak…. She was shaken from her thoughts as one of the giants fell, causing her to jump to the side to avoid being smashed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an arrow in the giant’s head; Hermione heard yells of triumph from the broken window that were not completely human, and heavy footfalls that sounded like a stampede entering the castle – centaurs.

Hermione did not busy herself wondering why the centaurs were helping in a wizard’s fight, but instead cast a Disillusionment charm on herself so it would be easier to try to find Harry without being attacked. Walking slowly so as not to miss a swish of a cloak or the small breeze from a nearby motion, she weaved her way through the ensuing battle.

Just before she gave up hope that she would never find him in this chaos, Hermione saw Dolohov collapse from a spell that seemed to have no visible origin…Harry was here. She ran towards the spot where she thought the spell had emanated. Extending her arms and moving wildly, she came in contact with a body under a cloak. Harry immediately fought her, trying to get free but she whispered, “No, it’s me! Stop that!”

Hermione dragged him surreptitiously into the nearest broom closet, shut the door, and lifted her Disillusionment charm. Harry took off his cloak and glared at her.

“Why did you do that? This is not the time for conversations!” he said in a low voice in case some one heard him (which was, in fact, ridiculous since one could barely hear anything between the crashes and explosions). He made to open the door, but she moved in front of it so he could not.

“Harry, listen to me,” Hermione said in an equally low voice, for suddenly unanticipated emotion had swept over her, “V-Voldemort is on his way. He’s coming for you…please tell me you’re ready!”

Harry’s hand jerked involuntarily toward his wand, then relaxed it. He nodded curtly, but Hermione noticed that color had left his face.

“Do – do you know what you’re going to do?” she asked. “Can you perform the power on your own? I know when I was teaching you, it did not seem like you had a full grasp on –“

“I know what I’m doing, Hermione.” His voice was forced, it did not fool Hermione.

“Show me.” He gave her a calculating look before silently agreeing. He closed his eyes, obviously trying to prepare his mind. Hermione waited and watched, and finally Harry’s hand closest to his wand began to glow. She saw that he was struggling to keep it thriving, not to mention do anything with the energy, so Hermione extended her hand and placed it on his heart, transferring her love for him into him. In a flash, the light magnified and incinerated the broom and bucket beside them.

As she removed her hand, the light faded and expired. She and Harry stared at the place it had last been before Hermione finally said, “It’s settled, then. I will help you.”

“No,” he said quickly, “it’s too dangerous. Besides, it has to be me.”

“And what makes you think it has to be you? Why must you carry the world and more on your shoulders, and never let us help you?”

Harry looked as though he was going to shout, but the anger died somewhere inside of him before it could reach the surface. He looked aside, not wanting to stare into the eyes of the only person brave enough to tell him what he needed to hear. He simply nodded.

“Is this the only reason you had to talk to me?” Harry said quietly, in a voice that betrayed a bit of fear that escaped his defenses.

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it. It is uncanny how a friend can know something about another before that friend even knows it. This was the case with Hermione; it took her a moment to find the answer.

“No,” she choked, a sob sounding in the closet. “I…I wanted to make sure I saw you…just in case-“

“Don’t say it,” he quieted her. “Don’t cry, either, Hermione, that’s the last thing we need right now.” She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to stem the flow of tears, but it was not an easy task.

Harry pulled her into a quick embrace before pulling the Invisibility cloak back over himself. “Don’t worry about me. You have taught me everything I need to know; everything is going as planned,” his voice came from nowhere, and the door opened and closed. Harry had left, but Hermione felt his presence burning into her like fire from when his arms had last touched her, his love a material thing that was supporting her.

He was ready.

*

Severus was running, casting, flying through the hordes of people. Enemies, foes, friends, allies – they were all the same! How could he tell the difference in this mess? He felt his reason slipping, every act he had put up was bearing down on him.

What was the point? Why pretend, why must it be complicated?

He sent a curse soaring to his left at no one in particular, he did not care who it hit or which side he was aiding. His head was throbbing from an exceptionally painful hit he had received from a flyaway rock of the wall as it was blown open. Severus was bleeding heavily from the cut, and it was only with extreme strength that he kept moving and thinking.

But he was not thinking properly. A hit to the head was no gift, and Severus was disoriented. Just after Hermione went to find Potter, he had fallen from the impact, and barely missed a flyaway killing curse. His vision was beginning to blur, and as he sent off another hex Severus fought to keep consciousness.

He was going to collapse soon, he knew it, but it couldn’t be here – not where he could be killed. He owed Hermione that much. Severus made his way a bit off the beaten track, just into the north corridor between a closet and a classroom, and his knees buckled. He fell hard, but it felt no better to be on the ground. The sounds of the battle were oddly muffled, but one sound was not. There was a gasp and then quick footsteps running toward him. He focused his vision – Hermione was leaning over and pointing her wand at his temple, muttering an incantation.

Severus gradually felt the pain subside, his eyesight cleared as well as his head. He knew where he was, what was happening and most importantly, which side was which. But, however, he did not know why he knew what he did – it may have been that Hermione had healed him, but he also thought that he would have come to his senses no matter what as long as she was with him.

“Severus,” she whispered to him, “Severus, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

Vaguely reminded of another time, he replied, “Yes, thank you. This is twice now that you have saved me.”

Hermione blushed. “Well, not really…there’s no option, of course I had to help you!”

He closed his eyes and became aware of his senses. Everything seemed surreal when Severus was in Hermione’s presence, but not right now. The battle was raging, and it was certainly not going to stop just for them.

“We cannot stay here,” he said, getting up slowly with his wand held tight in his hand.

“No,” she replied, biting her lip. “I’ve asked you already, but you have not told me yet. When are you going to reveal your allegiance?”

She seemed determined to know this. He sighed slightly, rubbing his forehead with his palm in thought. “As I said before, I do not think that is of the greatest importance now. After I was hit, I fired spells randomly, so they may suspect something already. Why must you know?”

Hermione looked towards the fighting almost involuntarily, and pulled him farther into the shadows so that they would not be seen at all. “Because I am afraid of what might happen, and I want to be there,” she whispered.

“Nothing you do will change what is going to happen,” he replied slowly, and with much strength in his voice. Severus did not want to worry her, but he couldn’t lie.

“I know that, but if you aren’t going to tell me exactly, then may I make a suggestion?” she didn’t wait for him to object. “I’ve spoken to Harry, and I don’t think he can finish it off alone. He is going to need my help, but the power could be so much stronger if I could have your help, also. I think that moment would be the best time to show your colors, Severus. Wait until the final minute, and then please, I’m asking you to set aside your differences with Harry so we can all end this.”

Severus studied her face. She was speaking fast, her fear quite evident. By the time she spoke the final sentence, Hermione was pleading with him, barely audible. He knew how terrified she was, but he also knew how determined she could be. As of right now, her option was the best he could think of, besides the fact that he would have to use the power of love alongside Harry Potter. That, Severus decided, was a sacrifice he would have to make, but it was a huge one.

He nodded gruffly and looked down the corridor to the flashing colors of spells and shrieks of pain from enemy and friends alike. They could not ignore the fighting any longer.

“Fine, but you cannot break down. When it is time, you can’t show fear or weakness or anything of the sort – if that happens I do not know if this will work. We have tried this power only in minute examples, and what we are attempting to do will require all the determination we have. There is no room for mistakes,” Severus warned her as he pulled her back into the open.

Just as they were about to reenter combat, Severus snarled in pain. His Dark Mark was like fire, more painful than it had ever been, save for the night Voldemort had disappeared. Looking around quickly, he saw his fellow Death Eaters grimace and grip their forearms.

Hermione looked at him frantically, confused. Severus ripped open his sleeve to reveal the magnificently ebony skull and snake writhing on his flesh. Voldemort was laughing at resistance; he was prepared for the end, he was ready to kill.

“He is here.”



Oooh, suspense !! I'm really proud of myself that I am sticking to this "one post per week" thing. I can't wait until the next chapter, there is so much tension and excitement! Anyway, I would really really love to hear from you in feedback. Your comments always help me write, and it's so much fun to read them! Please leave your feedback here. Thank you for reading!

*Lex

Chapter 26

Hermione’s eyes widened. Severus’s pulse quickened, that uncomfortable and unwanted sense of fear lapsing over his near-calm state. She grasped his hand as they both stood up and began to run back into the entrance hall. Remembering themselves, Hermione let go of him and turned her back to Severus, getting into a duel with the stupid Death Eater he remembered seeing down Knockturn Alley.

Severus did not know how Voldemort was going to make his entrance, but he was sure that it would not go unnoticed. The members of the Order did not know that he was here – only those branded had any idea of what was coming. It happened in a matter of seconds.

Severus heard every window in the castle shatter, including the ones near them. Everyone shrunk down a little, shielding themselves from the deadly projectile shards. In that instant, however, every piece of glass fell to the ground much too gracefully; complete silence fell upon the ears of every person. Severus was breathing a bit faster than usual, for he knew just how dangerous this situation was. No one knew where Voldemort was, no one knew exactly when he would appear or if, in fact, he was already here under a Disillusionment charm so powerful that he was invisible….

Something was breaking the silence, but it was indistinguishable. Severus shook his head slightly, trying to make out the noise. It sounded like the roar of the ocean, but that of course could not be it. Each second that passed, the noise grew stronger. Once louder, it was clear that it was wind, but this wind was not normal. Wind as though it was not Nature’s, but a Man’s, and it very much did not like being controlled. It was whipping through the open window frames, around each body, and up through the castle. Severus knew that somewhere on this wind was Lord Voldemort.

Regular hearing returned, and everyone momentarily stopped to look around. Even the Death Eaters halted their assaults to try to feel their master by them. Severus felt it; he sensed the same dark presence he had grown accustomed to holding in his chest each time this man so evil was near.

Someone screamed from inside the Great Hall, and people began to pour into it. Just as Severus put a foot into the room, he saw Voldemort for only a moment carressing his wand against the side of the Headmaster chair. Another second and he had disappeared. Everyone was running now, each Order member trying to get a position on the elusive man who was definitely among them. Severus felt his Dark Mark shiver again and something popped into his mind.

It was Voldemort giving silent orders to his followers. Severus gritted his teeth and fell behind the crowd as the other Death Eaters were doing also. He walked slowly, and then ran as soon as he saw Voldemort appear at the back of the hall. By the time the most experienced Order members realized the ruse, all the Death Eaters were in a half-circle around their master, prepared to kill while he did what had to be done.

Voldemort’s voice suddenly rang out louder than anything Severus had heard, and it took everything he had not to step away from him. The members of resistance froze as they listened.

“Your fighting has been noble, but it is over. You have lost. Look around you – Potter is not here to save you or protect you. He is afraid of the end, too cowardly to face me.”

Typical, Severus thought as he listened to Voldemort. He knows that Harry would come, deep down he must, but still he persists in trying to mentally tear down his opposition. No one would believe that Harry wouldn’t –

“You must not see too clearly, then,” Harry’s voice echoed from behind Voldemort.

Speak of the devil…Severus couldn’t help thinking. Voldemort whipped around just as Harry removed his invisibility cloak. Lord Voldemort’s red eyes turned to slits, and he flicked his wand behind him causing his guard to be repelled from him. He wanted to do this himself.

Severus was quite happy that he did this, actually, because he would need a way to find Hermione, and then get close to Harry. Moving as nonchalantly as possible, he edged behind his fellow Death Eaters towards the archway into the entrance hall. Pausing momentarily to figure out where Hermione could be, Severus felt a probe in his mind.

“I’m just around the corner.” Severus did not need to peer around said corner to see for himself. Instead, he leaned casually against the wall as if watching an interesting show, just waiting for his time to come. Meanwhile, there were intense words and emotions flowing between the two enemies facing each other in next to him.

“So, finally plucked up the courage to show up?” Harry goaded.

Voldemort’s eyes flashed. “I had well-trained allies fighting for me, unlike you, who chose to hide until this very moment.”

“Oh, you don’t think I had friends fighting for me? Look around you, Tom. We outnumber you.” At the mention of his first name, Voldemort hissed. Severus saw him surreptitiously look around the room. It was true, the Order and students outnumbered the Death Eaters. But if you counted the Dark creatures…

“You may have more people, but they have been taking your place, Potter. They have done the dirty work for you, died for you, while you attempt to take the glory now,” a smirk grazed his snake-like features. Severus saw Harry grip his wand tightly. “But I guarantee that you will not receive it.”

Harry took a step to his left, and so did Voldemort. They began to circle slowly around the invisible barrier that had not broken between them yet.

“I’m not looking for glory. I’m looking to end this war, to seek revenge for all the lives you have destroyed. No one can stop me, but especially not you.” As Harry said the last word, it looked as though he was going to spit at Voldemort.

Surprisingly, Voldemort let out a soft, sick laugh. “How mistaken you are, Harry Potter. Oh yes, I intend to finish you off, but until then, let’s see how much you can take.”

Very suddenly, all of Harry’s friends began to arouse from the stupor they had just been in and started to run towards Harry. Voldemort was faster, though. With an enormous swipe of his wand, a line of fire divided them from what was happening. The force knocked back the first and the strongest of those rebelling.

Harry said something, and so did Voldemort, but a strange feeling was taking over Severus so that he could not hear. Voldemort looked at Snape and flicked his wand. Instantly, it felt as though he was listlessly floating on a cloud – he did not know where he was, but he did not care. Severus was blissful, as though he was alone with Hermione, but much more so. He was vaguely aware of his legs moving and his hand reaching for his wand.

Wait…what am I doing?

Severus shook his head as though to clear it, and his blissful state lessened minutely. It took much energy to think.

“Torture him.” Someone was telling him this, but Severus did not understand. Then it came to his slow brain –

I am Imperiused.

“Torture him.”

No, that would ruin everything...

“Now. Torture him now!”

I cannot…I will not...

“NO!” Severus shouted and he was restored to his right mind. All eyes in the wall were upon him, but the most confused was Voldemort.

“No?” he said dangerously. “Why, Severus, have your old desires given way to a soft spot for dear Harry?”

Severus licked his lips. For the first time, he could not think of an excuse. His mouth opened, but then it closed.

“Well, well, well,” Voldemort hissed angrily. “This may become interesting. You will watch.”

With amazing speed, he cast out a nonverbal spell at Harry, who was just quick enough to defend himself. There were curses of all colors flying, strongest defense spells by Potter, and very Dark magic from Voldemort. Harry was sweating, clearly fighting his hardest, but Voldemort was smirking.

In a second, Voldemort put an end to it. With a flying blue jet that took Harry off his feet and landed him back at the entrance to the Great Hall, some 15 feet behind where he had stood. Severus’s heart leapt for a moment, for he was in the perfect place for Hermione to intercede. Severus could only move back toward them so fast, lest Voldemort notice.

“I must say, Harry, that I am impressed with your fighting. However, it has become clear that you have already used your maximum effort. You will not win, Harry Potter,” Voldemort was stepping toward Harry, tearing him down with words as he went. Harry scrambled to his feet as steadily as he could.

“I will win, Tom. Remember the prophecy? ‘…but he shall have power that the Dark Lord knows not.’ It’s true – I have the power that you can never have, the power that your kind of magic can’t defeat,” he said defiantly.

A vein in Voldemort’s temple twitched irritably. “You speak of the power of love, but Dumbledore was a foolish man. He thought that love could destroy everything, but there are ways to conquer love. I took your blood in the graveyard three years ago, Harry, and since then your mother’s sacrifice has been flowing through my veins. Her dear ‘love’ no longer protects you.”

“There is more than one way of using love,” someone’s voice said. The speaker slowly stepped into the scene, her wand at the ready. Hermione had revealed herself, and Severus could not have thought of a better time to do so. She took her place beside Harry, while Voldemort looked rather surprised that she had such courage as to face him.

“Ahh, and this is the Mudblood I’ve heard so much about,” he taunted. “Had a little struggle with my followers, I see. You will not be so lucky as to escape twice.” Voldemort was pointing to her neck. Severus had not noticed, for he had grown accustomed to seeing her, that some of the bruises around her jaw had not quite disappeared after 5 days of healing. Hermione blushed a little, but otherwise held her ground. Severus edged ever closer.

“You are ignoring what you don’t want to hear, Voldemort,” Hermione ventured to say. “You don’t know the half of what has been going on behind your back. Your army lacks power and you do not have as many followers as you think you do.”

Severus could not tell, but he was sure that he probably paled at this last statement. The moment was coming soon, and Hermione was getting very close to the most dangerous subject regarding his safety. He moved another few inches, and Severus decided that this was close enough to jump into action if need be.

“You are delusional, Mudblood,” Voldemort said to her with contempt. “My army has won, and my Death Eaters are as strong as ever. Surely you do not suggest that you know things about my followers that I do not?”

Hermione jutted out her chin defiantly. “That is exactly what I am suggesting. You have been too stupid to see the facts – it is obvious that there is a spy, and it is easy to figure out who that person is. You’ve been the puppet all along –“

Voldemort suddenly directed his wand at her, and Hermione began to scream. Severus knew the strength of that Cruciatus curse, and it could kill if it was hateful enough. Without knowing it, Severus ran forward to help her, but too late realized he could do nothing. Voldemort continued to torture her until Harry conjured a defensive spell strong enough to block the curse. Voldemort lifted his magic and stared coldly at Severus. Hermione fell to the ground, eyes closed and limbs limp.

Severus snarled in anger as he watched her fall, then drew his wand to face Voldemort next to Harry. He would make Voldemort pay, he would torture and kill him if it was the last thing he did. His breathing was irregular and fast, for the mental connection between Hermione and himself had gone dark; he could not reach her.

No…no, not again…he can’t have killed her – Severus was thinking in disconnected thoughts as he stared at Voldemort with all the loathing he had. He glanced for a millisecond back to her body, and then he was filled with such a sudden strong emotion of despair and hopelessness that he thought he might retch. He could not check for signs of life, and he could not feel her presence.

“So,” Voldemort’s soft voice broke through his haze. “Dear Severus, truly has gone soft. It happens to the weakest, the ones who fall victim to that debilitating faculty – love. You see? Even love cannot bring back that which is destroyed by my power.”

As he spoke, he walked ever so slowly toward Hermione’s body, and finally used his magic to bring her into an upright position, though she looked much like a rag doll. Severus almost could not watch; he had to wait for the most opportune moment, he could not make another wrong decision. Voldemort meanwhile extended a pale, long finger and ran it the length of her cheek.

“Pity, for attractive Mudbloods have their purposes…had she not used her tongue so foolishly, she could have been put to much better use.”

Something within Severus completely snapped and was cast away in that moment. Though he did not realize it, the same thing happened to Harry. Both were consumed with hatred and revulsion for this man, for lack of a better word, who dared to touch Hermione. Curses of such strength were sent at Voldemort that he staggered backward and fell.

Silence seemed to press into Severus’s eardrums, and he became aware of the strange pressure of his blood pounding within his own head. There is a moment that one may experience when they are faced with either life or death; that feeling of pure terror, yet adrenaline and purpose also courses through the body. Such a moment was occurring within Severus. This was either the very end, or the beginning.

No…there is no beginning while her body lies lifeless. Nothing can ever compensate, but nothing can stop me from striking back.

Voldemort slowly got to his feet and inclined his head slightly to one side. He was very angry, for the Dark Mark on Severus’s arm was pulsing as though it had its own heartbeat; then again, it may have been that the heart of Lord Voldemort knew what it was being challenged to, and it wanted to get in all of its final beats, even if it was through another. Severus did not contemplate – he did not care.

“I see where we stand,” his hissing voice slithered around Severus, though it could not block out the rhythm of his own heart. “In making this decision, Severus, your fate has been sealed and your life marked. You shall be an example for anyone else who has the courage to defy me.”

“I am not defying you, for I was never yours. Ever since you killed the Potters, I have been trying to bring you down in secret, taking all punishment and orders from you just so you would not suspect. Never again,” Severus realized he was shaking slightly from such severe resentment.

“One more thing, Tom,” Harry said, finally taking the reins in the encounter that Dumbledore had intended to be his and his alone. Severus, even in this state of shock and fury, could not help but wonder how much Albus Dumbledore had known, how much he had foreseen. All thoughts were shattered, however, as Harry spoke. “You keep on talking as though you are going to win. You have only shown us what hatred can do – love…well, that’s another thing entirely.”

And Harry closed his eyes. Severus’s opened wide as he saw that that extreme of final moments had reached his consciousness. Harry’s hands were steadily housing a strange light that seemed to hold Voldemort incapable of drifting his eyes from it. Severus need not delve into Potter’s mind to know what was being thought; the love of family and friends lost…Hermione lost…was giving him the strength he needed. Severus, though at first concerned that Harry would need assistance with the magic, let his mind and body rush to Hermione.

He was at her side, holding her and muttering all sorts of arousing spells, while he heard laughter from somewhere. He couldn’t care less what anyone thought of him at the moment. His shadow against Hermione’s body was growing longer and more prominent, therefore he knew that Harry’s power was growing more pronounced. There were other sounds behind him – explosions, hisses, electricity – but he did not have the will to turn around to define them.

Severus gently cupped her face in his right hand, while his left hand held his wand if he needed to use it to defend her body – he cared nothing for his own now. Her face was warm, her blood had not yet run cold. Yet how long would that take? Severus remembered almost the same question when faced with the body of Lily Potter…he had not waited to find an answer. But he could wait now. Severus could wait forever if he had to, to see when Life’s final strokes ceased to linger upon her. He felt himself holding her, and yet every sense was numb; when their mental connection had broken, he had broken.

Something aroused in the back of his mind, a sudden urge to look around. With uncertainty, Severus saw that no one, in fact, had been concerned with him at all. Every eye in the room was focused upon Harry Potter, who was being forced backwards by magic of Voldemort’s. Severus could see that Harry’s power was fading, he was losing strength and therefore losing hope. Knowing what had to be done, he laid down Hermione’s body as gently as he could, and then jumped to his feet unsteadily, for it seemed it was taking a little longer for his brain to send messages to his body.

Walking slowly back to the two men locked in combat, still no one cared to watch him. He was insignificant in the final moment Fate was dangling ever closer. Severus knew that he had to help Harry, hard as that may be, if it was to end.

Severus focused all his energy on love; the love he had lost, the love he and Hermione had shared, and the love he had grown to accept. He felt his arms growing warmer, and chanced a glance back at Harry. The look upon Potter’s face was anguish, tormented as he knew that he could not do it alone. The longer Severus looked upon Harry, the harder it was to keep his own power going; all he saw was James…James and the toll he had unknowingly put on Severus’s young life.

Biting his lip with the concentration, Severus brought his eyes up to the one place he swore he’d never look. He did not know why, but he knew it would help. Even though Harry was still focused upon Voldemort, Severus could see those vivid, green eyes. “Look at me…Potter, look at me now,” he willed himself to project to Harry.

And Harry, whether out of obedience or confusion, did so. Four eyes met, the first time they had willingly done such since Godric’s Hollow so very long ago. But both sets of eyes had changed. The green pair had learned of death, sorrow, and torture, while the black pair had experienced love, death, despair, and repeat. Severus would have bet his life that Harry’s mind had found that young memory of a greasy-haired man leaning over him and searching his face before he had even known his parents lie dead in the same house.

A spark.

Severus felt his body emanating heat, and though he kept his eyes locked on Lily’s, his peripheral vision saw Harry also doing the same. These were no longer two enemies, a teacher and a schoolboy locked in a battle of houses, but two souls united in one purpose. With a sweeping motion, Severus flung his arms outward in Voldemort’s direction, and Voldemort was thrown upon his back, a look of pure shock upon his face. Harry followed suit, pointing his wand directly at Voldemort’s heart. A bright, unearthly white light burst from the wand tip and soared across the room and surrounded itself around Voldemort’s stirring body. As fellow Death Eaters ran to help their master, Harry spread his arms and the light cut through them. All fell and remained unconscious.

This light returned to Voldemort and held him to the ground, but meanwhile Severus had strayed from the action at hand. His eyes, and therefore his magic, went once again to Hermione. Severus did not purposely do it, but his energy gracefully lifted Hermione up in the air – completely different than when Voldemort did the same. She was floating as if suspended by wires under her arms and she moved toward him. While her body was limp in actuality, it did not loll as it should have.

His love for Hermione consumed Severus to the highest degree that he did not see it as Harry too concentrated his power upon her. The light around her body doubled. She was beautiful, perfected from the battle marks she had received and her arms spread as if to welcome Severus in a hug. Her eyes were closed, but that was the only factor that deceived she was not awake.

Without knowing why, Severus felt tears upon his face. It had been years since Severus had cried, but he did not feel sad. There was something about her that brought him hope, and the tears were simply a function he could not control, for he did not care who saw them. He ripped his eyes from Hermione and looked to Harry, who was gazing upon her as though he would never see her again. Then Harry slowly turned his wand in a circle, and Hermione’s body followed it. She turned from them to face Voldemort, who was struggling on the floor, unable to sever the ties that were binding him.

Harry looked at Severus for a millisecond, but that was all he needed. Severus closed his eyes and nodded.

“Now.”

Harry did not hesitate. He extended his arms with such speed and force that Severus did not see it as it happened. Harry yelled louder than even Voldemort, or so it seemed to Severus, and the light that had been around Hermione’s body magnified with such intensity that everything was white. In seconds, that power was sent across the Hall to Voldemort, who roared in anger before the love touched him and he fell silent. The light disappeared, and the Great Hall was immersed in darkness for only a moment before it was restored to normal.

It is over.

Voldemort lay motionless upon the floor, killed by something so pure that it was death for him to be touched by it. Harry had sunk to his knees and was staring at the floor, wand in his relaxed hand, as if he could not believe he had really done it. The Death Eaters made a mad dash for the portrait up in the Grand Staircase so they could hide from the Order, but the Order did not care now. Everyone was running toward Harry, smiling, crying, holding one another because it really was over.

But Severus had eyes for only one thing. Hermione’s body had fallen gracefully back down to the floor while the light had disappeared from around them, and Severus got to her side before anyone else had the chance to. He pulled her onto his lap as though she was resting, the grief returning to him. It was almost too much to ask from Severus to have to endure such a loss twice in his lifetime.

It cannot be...surely not…please, Hermione, do not leave me. I love you, this cannot happen.

And yet she did not move. Hermione was stiff in his arms, and yet it took Severus several moments to realize that she should be limp, not stiff. Hope grasping his chest, Severus delved into the mind to search for her presence, anything that would show him she was still here. There should have been many “stars” in the darkness of the mind, but Severus saw only one. However, this was all he needed to see.

Severus willed the small shimmering light to come to him, as though searching for a memory, and it expanded as it came closer. Larger and larger it came, indefinite in shape and purpose until (if it had been a memory) it should have let him see. But it did not. Instead, he was jerked from her mind and his eyes opened wide as he heard breathing. It was barely audible, but Severus heard it.

He laid her down upon the ground and leaned closer to hear if she made a sound, therefore he did not see her foot move slightly to the right, nor did he see Harry Potter and several others approach him. Harry leaned down and sat on Hermione’s other side; his lips were parted, for he had seen her move.

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly, and Severus finally looked up to see him. There was no hate upon his face, but there was compassion…something he had never seen on any face of a Potter, and especially not to him. He nodded to Severus, who raised his eyebrows at the civility being expressed; it was something he did not understand.

Knowing it would help but not knowing why, Severus leaned very close to Hermione’s ear, so that only she would be able to hear him. He murmured, “I will honor the promise I made to you yesterday, but I need you with me, Hermione. I am here, and I always shall be.”

Another spark, but this was very different. Severus held his breath for fear that it would stop what was about to happen. Hermione’s lips moved so very faintly, as if she was trying to say something. Severus’s heart leapt and held tight in his throat so that he could not speak. Instead he remained over her while she tried to form the words. At last, her whisper was made audible to him.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, then immediately closed, for her brow was furrowed with the light that was new to them. Severus felt as though a weight the size of the earth had lifted from him. As she became adjusted to her surroundings, Severus considered filling her in on what had happened, but he decided that could wait a bit. Not caring whatsoever who was watching, Severus stood up, lifting her up with him. He held her tight, convinced that while he was around her, nothing could ever harm her again. Severus carried her away from the crowd to no place in particular…down a corridor here, a staircase there. Just being with her gave him renewed strength, and he knew that the same thing was happening for her.

Hermione was still weak, and she could not stand alone; Severus did not know or need to know, for he wasn’t planning on ever letting her out of his arms.



OH NO THE END IS COMING CLOSER!!! I don't know exactly how many more chapters there will be, but we are definitely getting close to the end . I am so eager to read the replies on this chapter (sorry it was a bit longer), since this was just about the climax of everything. Please leave your feedback here. I'll be writing the next chapter and have it up in about a week. Until next post!

*Lex

Chapter 27

Hermione lay in bed, half-awake but not quite ready to wake up. Her body ached, but she had quickly learned to ignore the pain – if there was one thing she learned, life is too short to complain. Her fingers absentmindedly rubbed against the folds of crisp sheets and the blankets that gently fell over her body. With a sigh, she decided that she really ought to start the day.

With a yawn, she rolled over from her curled position and winced a little as she pushed herself up into a sitting position against the headboard. Hermione idly fingered the gold band around her ring finger, for she had grown to do so just to make sure it was still there, as she looked around Severus’s room (well, she thought, I suppose it is my room now, too). As usual, Severus had been awake early; he was sitting in the corner of the room reading a book.

She coughed softly to grab his attention, at which he glanced up at her. There was an obvious change in his demeanor as she entered his vision, one which made him look much younger. Immediately Severus snapped the book shut and walked to the bedside, a look of affection grazing his features.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he swiftly kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Hermione replied smiling, for she could not help it anymore, “in comparison to what it had been.”

“Wonderful,” Severus caressed her arm gently, sending those familiar tingles up her spine. “How strong are you today?”

“Much stronger, I think.”

Severus picked up her hand and kissed it gently. “I’m glad to hear it. If you are hungry, I’ll get a house-elf to bring you something.”

He arched an eyebrow at her playfully, which she mimicked. He was playing with her, and finally smirked. “All right, I will go to the kitchens myself if you would prefer. I’ll be back.” With that he strolled out of the bedroom, and Hermione heard the outer door close, acknowledging the fact that he had left. She sighed once more, but this time out of contentedness.

Over the past two days, they had been living in bliss aside from Hermione’s physical condition which was being nursed back to health. Not that she minded. Grimacing slightly as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved over to her chest for clothes, her mind wandered back to the events of the past few days.

She did not remember anything that happened after she blacked out; the only thing she recalled was Severus speaking softly to her, coaxing her to wake. It had been a very frightening episode, however, for Hermione had been sure that she was dying. Of course Severus filled her in on what had occurred while she lay unconscious. She had first felt unbelievably happy that Severus and Harry had worked together and put aside their hate to accomplish their common goal, and then rather touched when she learned that it had in fact been her death (or, her supposed fatality) that had given the two of them enough power to finish it.

Hermione pulled out a shirt, skirt, and robe which she slowly put on. Yes, her brush with Death had taken a toll on her body, but she really was moving through it. Severus was wonderful; he always did anything he could for her. When she had woken from unconsciousness, Hermione remembered Severus picking her up and carrying her somewhere, but the rhythm of his footsteps and the steady beat of his heart which had been next to her ear (not to mention he extreme fatigue) drifted her back into sleep.

Upon waking the second time, Hermione had found herself lying on the floor of a classroom with a blanket conjured beneath her. Severus had been sitting above her, watching over her until she would wake. Hermione also remembered turning her head and seeing a single, steadily burning candle – she later realized that he had probably brought her there purposely.

Hermione closed her trunk and gradually made her way through the doorway and into the main room. Her energy exhausted by the time she was at the couch, so she conceded to sit down. She smiled as her wedding ring caught the light and shimmered, as if asked for her to gaze upon it. Hermione pulled it off gently and examined it, like she had already done so many times even though it was relatively new to her finger.

She tilted it so she could see the engraving around the inside. In miniscule letters in tune to Severus’s handwriting, the words “Love conquers all” sparkled magically. Hermione smiled as she went back to when they had been married – it was a little blurry, however, since things had been moving so very fast, but she still remembered….

Severus leaned over her and smiled as her eyes opened; he placed his hand around hers and it brought her warmth. Hermione attempted to sit up, but needed his help – she did not mind. She was at peace resting against him.

“Hermione,” he said almost inaudibly as he brushed his lips against hers. She could literally feel the joy emanating from him because she was, indeed, alive. It was here that he explained what had occurred, and she listened with astute ears until he had finished. Finally he looked into her eyes almost hungrily, but then receded.

“You are in no state to be married now; you are not well. Perhaps at a later date we –“

“No,” Hermione said softly. She needed this now. “It has to be now.” Severus paused, but did not question; he understood.

He nodded and looked around the room as if to see someone, then looked back to Hermione. “We are in the dungeons at present. Will you be all right if I went to fetch the wizard to perform it?”

Hermione shook her head. She did not want him to leave her side, she did not want him to get out of her sight again even for a moment. Severus thought for a moment, and then finally snapped his fingers. At first, Hermione had thought that he was simply expressing the fact that he had come to some sort of conclusion, but she was wrong. Almost as soon as his fingers parted, a house elf appeared with a crack in front of them.

The sound was distant to Hermione, and it was now that she realized that she was not, in fact, well. She became aware of a dull ache in her head and limbs. The lights from the torches on the walls were flickering absently, and she was having trouble focusing while Severus was not looking at or speaking to her. Words were passed between he and the house elf before Hermione recognized who it was.

“Dobby?” her voice parted their conversing. The deep black eyes and the great orbed ones both looked upon her face.

“Yes, Miss, it is Dobby,” Dobby said enthusiastically. Somewhere in Hermione’s subconscious, she noted that he was still wearing the socks Ron had given him for Christmas. “You is one of Harry Potter’s friends, Dobby remembers! Does Miss need anything?”

The words weren’t exactly processing, but Severus interceded. “I’ve already told you what we request, now go.” Dobby nodded obediently, not offended in the least, and disappeared with another crack.

“Don’t speak to him so harshly, Severus, house elves deserve respect,” she murmured, closing her eyes to rest. Severus had the knowledge not to argue, but contended himself to stroking her hand tenderly. Even this small act was enough to electrify her; he was barely touching her, yet that was what made it so thrilling. It was just one of those things that are so simple that they cannot be explained. Because of it, her mind was focused once more.

Moments later, and the feeble old wizard that had been speaking at the funeral appeared next to Dobby, who was beaming. Upon finishing his duty, Dobby Disapparated once more. The wizard ran up and immediately grasped Severus’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

”I must thank you, Sir, for the wonderful service you have paid to us all in destroying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” he said happily. Severus, on the other hand, looked absolutely dumbfounded. No one had ever shaken his hand out of a truly friendly greeting, let alone praise him. Finally his words came slowly and a tad forcefully.

“It was Potter, not I,” he said. Hermione’s eyes opened as she heard him say this, for it was extremely un-Severus-ish of him. She had never heard him give credit to Harry for anything, but then again, no one gave Severus any credit either. Perhaps he was too unfamiliar with such territory that he pushed it onto someone else, or perhaps something small was changing within him. Hermione smirked slightly as she reconsidered…Severus probably did not want the attention he knew would come if he basked in the limelight. She did not blame him

“No, no, no, I saw what happened! Your act of bravery benefited all wizards today, and I think the least I could do is offer something for you in return, at least for my sake. And you too, Miss,” the wizard turned to Hermione and smiled, his wrinkles showing on his cheeks, “for you also had the courage to put yourself in danger.”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to blush; even though it was a moment’s introduction, she knew she liked this man. Severus looked at her in bewilderment, and she was sure she heard him say, “Gryffindor,” under his breath in reply to that statement. She closed her eyes and nodded with a grin on her face, regardless of the pain beginning to latch onto her.

“Then we shall take you up on you offer. Would you please marry us?” Severus asked quietly. The old wizard stared at them for a moment, then began to chuckle.

“Yes, yes, all right! You see? More love is already branching out now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been vanquished.” Hermione almost laughed when he said love– he has no idea. She was reminded vaguely of Dumbledore before he spoke again. “Ah, but you shall need two witnesses, Mister, ah…”

“Severus Snape,” Severus answered, bristling for a recoil or an arch of the eyebrow, but none came. Was it possible that this man did not care who he was?

“And…,” he looked at Hermione expectantly.

“Hermione Granger,” she whispered, for her voice was losing strength. The old wizard’s smile faded a minute amount.

“Are you sure that you wish to be married now? Miss Granger here does not appear to be in the best of health,” he said to Severus, who looked down at Hermione questioningly. That was pointless, for she only nodded again.

“I am sure.”

There were suddenly very loud footsteps coming down the staircase closest to this classroom, and several people quickly entered the room breathing heavily as though they had been running. Hermione could see a few red-headed people, the large figure of Hagrid, McGonagall, and the unmistakable jet black hair that could only be Harry.

“Dobby just appeared, and said that you two were…,” Harry trailed off as he saw the contents of the room. More footfalls and Hermione could see him at her side, very close to her. Hermione could see every bead of sweat that had not yet left his face and every jagged edge of his ruby scar, but something about it was different – she didn’t have the strength to try to identify it.

“Hermione, you were brilliant,” he said to her. She noted the concern in his voice. “Are you all right?”

She coughed once before replying softly, “I think so…just weak.” Hermione felt Severus’s hand tighten around her arm, but she did not know whether this was intentional or not. She was pretty sure that he was very uncomfortable at the moment, but she could not do anything for him.

Someone else came into full view, and Hermione saw McGonagall standing over her. Minerva sniffled audibly as though she had been about to cry, but it was probably because she was so happy. She remained standing, but her voice came crisp and clear to Hermione:

“I…I must say that I was wrong, more so than I was before. I had said that I would never approve of this, and of course you do not need my approval, but I…well, I believe that without you two Voldemort would still be alive. Your – your love saved us all, and I see no reason why it should not continue.”

Hermione felt the sides of her mouth pull into a smile. She was so unspeakably happy because of the acceptance around her, and the only thing that could make it better….

There were shuffling footsteps to her left, and she turned her head to see Ginny Weasley slowly picking up the candle from the floor. She stared at it for a full ten seconds before turning to Hermione. There was another moment of silent understanding between them, but completely the opposite from the last time.

Ginny’s features were shadowed and lightened contrastingly by the candle she held at her chest level, and her lips parted. Almost inaudible words came out of them, and grew just loud enough for Hermione to hear.

“I am sorry…Hermione, I’m sorry.” Ginny slowly kneeled down and pulled her friend into a hug. It hurt terribly, but Hermione bit her lip so as not to whimper in pain, for that would surely ruin the moment she had been waiting so desperately for. She felt Severus reposition himself behind her, and again she sensed him feeling out of place.

“It’s all right,” Hermione whispered back, and Ginny finally let go. Had Ginny been the type of girl to regularly cry, she was sure she would have seen tears. Hermione on the other hand had no such hindrances on her crying, and she let the tears of happiness fall freely. It was such an emotional moment that she almost couldn’t bear it – everyone’s face around her shone with love for her, but especially Severus, whom she could tell was silently eager to perform the marriage. He nodded towards the old wizard.

“Ah, yes, yes, I see we have enough witnesses,” he chuckled. “If you are both ready and you have rings…” Severus hesitated for a moment, then slowly drew out two gold rings from inside a pocket of his robes. The way they shined caught Hermione’s attention and held it fixed.

“Excellent.” With that, it began. She did not remember the actual ceremony in the least; all she remembered was ecstasy in its highest form. Hermione was locked onto Severus’s eyes and she was drawing strength from them. The old wizard’s words were oddly muffled and far off, but somehow she still knew when to say “I do.” She also remembered pointing her wand at Severus’s ring and inscribing, “Love eternal” around the inside. When he placed her ring upon her hand, she knew what the words said without having to look at them.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, a voice said, “You may now kiss the bride,” and Hermione felt Severus quickly graze her lips as exclamations of happiness sounded from behind them. Only hours later did it fully hit her that she was married, and her name was now Hermione Granger Snape. But for now, she had exercised the last of her energy, and in her husband’s arms she fell into her most peaceful sleep….

Hermione replaced the ring on her finger and smiled as Severus reentered the room carrying a silver tray with food. He placed it in front of her, and with a “Thank you,” Hermione began to eat. Momentarily, though, a thought came to her.

”Severus,” she asked.

“Hm?”

Hermione’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember what she had been wanting to ask. “Do you remember the battle? I mean, before Voldemort showed up?”

He couldn’t help but smirk. “Of course not. It was so trivial, why should I?” Hermione eyed him with mock irritation.

“All right, all right,” she replied. “But I’ve been meaning to ask you…how did the Death Eaters get into the castle? I don’t remember there being a secret passage behind that portrait.”

“No, there wasn’t,” Severus said a little dryly. “But that portrait did happen to have a duplicate in St. Mungo’s. It was coincidence that one of the Death Eaters saw it and remembered that there was the same picture in Hogwarts. He stole the one from St. Mungo’s, and Voldemort cast a spell upon it so that humans could pass through it to the one in Hogwarts.”

Hermione sighed. “That’s low – sneaking a way in instead of fighting upright. Oh well….” She paused to finish eating and one more question came to mind. “Severus, I had almost forgotten, why on earth were the centaurs fighting with us? That was so unlike them, to get involved in a wizard’s war –“

“Ah,” Severus said as he wiped away the tray with a flick of his wand now that Hermione was done, “I wondered that myself until Yaxley told me as they were coming in. You see, there were several Death Eaters stationed in the Forbidden Forest with the creatures, waiting for the signal to release them, and centaurs came upon them. The centaurs were very angry that their territory was apparently being questioned, and when they got violent, one of the Death Eaters killed their leader. One thing followed another, and the centaurs were fighting on our side seeking retribution for the murder of their chief.”

Hermione shook her head. “Well, at least it is all over now. I meant to ask you this morning – how were the funerals yesterday?”

Yesterday they had been invited for a joint funeral on the grounds of all the fallen fighters, and a proper burial for Ron. Of course Hermione was in no state to move that far, so Severus went in her place. He glanced at her sideways before answering, being careful not to upset her in any way by talking about Ron, but he didn’t know that she was moving past the grief.

“As well as funerals are expected to be. There was a very large number of people in attendance, but then again I did not realize how many people had died. Everyone I spoke with wished me to tell you they hope you make a fast recovery. The Weasley’s especially – I don’t know if you have noticed, but Molly sent a package of cakes back with me. They are on the table, there.”

Hermione looked and sure enough, a red package was sitting there as if waiting to be opened. It sparkled in an odd way and Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if the twins had had any hand in sending it. In silver letters on the front of the box, the words “Get well soon Hermione!” She smiled.

“That was sweet,” she said quietly. Severus nodded once in agreement and leaned in to kiss her quickly.

“I think it was well-deserved, what with all the anguish that girl put you through. Honestly, she was getting on my very last nerve. Had she not apologized when she did, I would have cursed –“ Severus was cut off as Hermione pulled him back into a kiss. When she drew away, she placed her forehead upon his and breathed a small grin.

“Thank you for your sentiments, Severus, but the last thing we would have needed then was you picking a fight with Ginny Weasley. And you know something?”

“Hm,” his low voice rumbled, making Hermione tingle.

“She probably would have won.” At first his eyebrow arched, but then his lip curled into a smirk and Severus took Hermione back into their special world.

*

The next day Hermione was proud to say that she woke before Severus, for this was a very rare moment. She rolled over and jumped a little to see that the other side of the bed was still occupied. His chest was rising and falling steadily, and his hair was thrown about recklessly, though at the same time it appeared haphazardly flawless. She didn’t realize that it did not hurt to move until she stretched and no pain met her movements, and even then Hermione didn’t really notice.

She brought herself closer to Severus’s sleeping form and brought her arm over his chest and leaned her head against his shoulder. His heartbeat and breathing alone was enough to make her fall back to sleep in a position of protection. He moved slightly, then Hermione heard Severus breathe out slowly and she knew he had woken.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“Good morning,” was the muffled reply. Severus turned on his side so that they were facing each other and he smirked.

“Do you feel better today? I do,” he said softly. Hermione closed her eyes and chuckled.

“You don’t have a reason to feel better, Severus,” she pronounced, but Hermione was sure she knew what he meant. Men….

“I heard that.”

“I know,” Hermione laughed. “But yes, now that you mention it, I feel about ten times better. That’s strange, though…you didn’t do any more healing spells while I slept, did you?”

“No,” he extended his hand and moved her hair behind her shoulder, “but it doesn’t take a class-five Healer to know why you feel better.” His breath was making her quiver for no real reason as he spoke. She couldn’t help but admit that he was probably right.

She sighed as he turned away from her and got up. It was dark in the room, so Hermione could not really see him, but she heard him rummaging for his robes of the day. Suddenly a thought came to Hermione, as was happening so continually lately.

“Severus, come here for a minute.”

The torches around the room sprang to light around their dungeon bedroom, and Hermione momentarily covered her eyes from the sudden brightness, but this only helped in what she was going to say. When she opened her eyes again, Severus was sitting beside her in his black pants and a white shirt not yet buttoned. Hermione did her best not to be distracted, but she was after all, a newly married woman. She shook herself, but she soon heard Severus snort. By the time she looked back up at him again, his shirt was buttoned and his robes miraculously on already, and a very amused grin was upon Severus’s face.

“Oh, stop it,” she said, picking up her pillow and hitting him with it. He grabbed it as though from a child, but did not stop smirking. “I wanted to ask you…how long do we plan on staying here?”

He blinked. “Here in the literal sense, or here as in –“

“Here meaning living in this secret room. Personally, I would rather not continue to be kept away down here like a schoolgirl in detention,” she explained.

Severus nodded. “I understand. But where would you suggest we go, then? You know that I have a home on Spinner’s End, but I sincerely doubt that you would find it acceptable.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side slightly as she thought. “Perhaps. You know, though, you don’t have to hide at all anymore. We could get a home in any wizarding neighborhood and it would go smoothly. What do you think about that?”

“I realize that,” he started, “but you must also think of income. I have become accustomed to teaching, as hard as that is to believe, and keep in mind that my quarters as a Head of House are much better accommodating than these.”

Hermione had not thought of that. A job…surely I must not think about that now? But it was true, a couple just starting out would need money. I don’t even know what I would be interested in becoming….

“Hermione,” Severus rolled his eyes, “there is plenty of time to think about this. You put too much pressure upon one moment. And until we make this decision, we have no other obligations.”

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes, for she was amused by Severus’s subtle hints. Not only that, but she was amused and a little in awe of how much change she had seen in Severus since she first moved in here. It was almost a new person. No, Hermione laughed, still the same Severus, but better influenced.

She did not know it, but she had changed just as much in Severus’s eyes, if not more. But they could decide that later; for now, they had nothing - and therefore much - to do.



Finally, this chapter is up! I'm so sorry that it took a little longer than usual, but I had a bout of writer's block, not to mention exams, projects, term papers (ah, the wonderful world of high school). I am so nervous to find out what you think of this one; since it was after the climax, I'm afraid it's a bit to boring or whatever word you want to call it. Therefore, please please leave feedback here. Thank you so much for following this story - it's coming to a close soon! Until next post...

*Lex

Chapter 28

Ten days after the marriage showed Hermione and Severus in quite a different condition than the second day. Upon speaking with McGonagall, they had made some very pleasing arrangements indeed. Severus would resume teaching next term as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, for of course there was no reason to be concerned about that any longer, and Hermione would be taking up the Potions position since Horace Slughorn decided that he really was much too old to be teaching.

Severus was repositioned as the Head of Slytherin house, which Hermione never ceased to comment on (earning a wry but acknowledging glance from Severus), and they received their own private quarters above the dungeons. Hermione had insisted that she would no longer wish to stay there, for it was much too dank, so they agreed to have their accommodations above the Slytherin common room with a staircase as the connection.

The rooms were very nice, quite to Hermione’s liking, but Severus would not admit that he didn’t mind her changes to the décor. Their quarters consisted of 4 spacious rooms; the first of which was a sitting room/kitchen, the second was a comfortable bedroom, the third a luxuriously large bathroom, and the fourth a small library and potions station. In this room there were two large desks, ideal for grading papers. But Hermione had taken it upon herself to remove all black from the rooms – everything was gold or red, except the bedroom. It was the one place Severus put his foot down and retained the scarlet and ebony furnishings he had become fond of.

And this was where Severus found himself Saturday morning. He was sitting in a very large, comfortable armchair and reading, though the words of the book didn’t sink into him in the least; he was distantly reminded of another such incident, but now he understood. He shook his head and closed the book, a shadow of a smirk upon his face.

His wristwatch claimed it was ten in the morning, and Severus decided that he wished to make a potion. Which potion, he did not know…he just had a strong desire to brew something, for he had not in over two weeks. Not to mention, Hermione was getting ready in the bathroom, and Severus would therefore have no distractions for the moment.

He exited the bedroom, walked through the sitting room and settled himself at the potions station in the far room. He glanced at the closed bathroom door and knew he had enough time to brew a quick Peacefulness Potion – not that he needed it, but it was one of his favorites to make though he had not told anyone this bit of information. It was just one of those things.

Fifteen minutes later, Severus set the cauldron to simmer and conjured a rag to wipe off the counter he had been using, feeling very serene all the while. Suddenly there was a noise from behind the closed door of the bathroom – it sounded like a gasp, or possibly a shriek…Severus couldn’t tell. He hesitated for a moment, at first considering seeing what was wrong, but changed his mind. Hermione would explain if she wanted to.

Just as suddenly, Hermione quickly opened the door, her hair grazing back slightly from the wind. She was in her bathrobe, but Severus was looking at her face; he paused in his tidying. Her face was rather flushed, and she had an odd expression upon it. Severus actually couldn’t place it. He looked at her questioningly, then glanced back down at the counter-top and continued wiping it.

From his peripheral vision, he saw Hermione run a few steps towards him, pause, then lean in to his ear. She whispered something, and Severus lost his grip. The arm holding the rag skidded forward on the table, and he jerked, but regained himself quickly. His lips parted and he turned to look Hermione full in the face. Severus didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a little dizzy.

“Severus,” Hermione’s voice came at him, “you look pale, sit down.” She put her arm around his back and led him to a chair, which he fell into somewhat awkwardly. Severus wiped his hand over his face, ashamed at his loss of demeanor…but really, springing this upon him….

“Well, how am I supposed to look, then?” sarcasm licking against his words. Severus sensed an emotion in her that was hard to place. Something like anxiety and fear, but there was still concern and for some reason a little happiness

“Say something, Severus,” Hermione said to him. A thought came suddenly to Severus and he was sure that she would have thought of the same thing. However, he suppressed the minute irritation and leaped to it.

“How long have you known?” he asked softly.

Hermione blinked and replied, “Known for sure? Just today.”

Severus considered asking another question, but he decided that he most certainly did not want to make conversation of that. Absentmindedly pushing the hair off his face, Severus thought about how to approach the most important point, the one that was eating him up more than any other. There had been others that day in Knockturn Alley…not enough time has passed to rule it out…. From the look of seriousness on her face, he chose to directly ask her.

“Do you know if-“

“No,” Hermione interrupted. The finality in her tone betrayed how crucial the information, or lack thereof, was to her.

His brow furrowed. “Is there not a spell of some sort to determine?”

Hermione almost laughed, but not out of humor, for the situation was not funny in the least. “Yes, but I didn’t think I would ever need to use it! A Healer would know it, though.”

The tension seemed to condense on the air and fill Severus’s lungs. He needed to know now. However, he did not stop to think of how Hermione must be feeling now – after all, he really didn’t have near as much to worry about in this. Upon realizing his careless moment, Severus beckoned for her to sit with him. She sat upon his lap, and he heard how fast she was breathing, as though she had just jogged.

“Would you want to go to a Healer, then?” he asked her quietly.

Hermione let her breathing regulate before she answered, “Of course. This isn’t something that I can wait for, and I know you must feel the same.”

Severus closed his eyes and nodded. He opened his mouth, reconsidered, but opened it again. “Name the day, and I’ll arrange it. We must have an appointment for something like this at St. Mungo’s…or the Healer could come to the castle, since it is summer. Whatever you’d like.”

This was one of the moments when Severus was very grateful that Hermione was not overemotional. After the entire ordeal was over with Ron, Ginny, and Harry, Hermione calmed down to a level where she no longer cried on a whim or burst out in anger. An act of maturity, Severus saw it as. Then again, when put in perspective she did not have long before she would become overemotional again.

Severus slowly extended his hand and laid it on Hermione’s stomach. She looked up at him and gave a very nervous smile, for underneath his hand, a baby would soon be starting to kick. Whether or not that baby had Severus’s blood running through it was yet to be seen, and until then they could do nothing but wonder.

*

Due to a rush of maladies and the like, they could not arrange an appointment until another two and a half weeks had passed. On that day, however, Hermione was so nervous that she could not even button her cloak.

Severus, after watching her numb fingers fumble with the clasp, took pity on her and helped her fasten it. She reached out and took his hand in his and looked into his deep, dark eyes. Severus could see clearly now the extreme unease holding fast around Hermione.

“Severus, if the baby isn’t yours, what will –“

He cut her off, for he did not even want to think about it. Now that she had brought it up, however, he wanted to tell her just what he thought. “There is no sense in worrying about that now – the Healer will let us know for sure. But Hermione,” he paused, trying to show her how much he was putting into these words, “whether or not this baby is mine doesn’t matter because it’s yours. Just because it is yours, I will do anything that I can to help you get through it. All right?”

She smiled and nodded, his embracing words hitting just where he had hoped. This was only partially true – he did care very much to know if Hermione was carrying his child. Horrifying as the thought was of Hermione birthing from assault, it was Severus’s duty as her husband to help her. Needless to say, he was sure that he would feel even more strongly if he knew that he was the father.

She nodded, and they Disapparated, appearing in the crowded lobby of St. Mungo’s (for, with Voldemort gone, there was no need for such strict protective spells in Severus’s quarters). It was only then that Severus noted how embarrassing the situation was, and if not for him, most certainly for Hermione. He had not considered the things that would be thought of Hermione if they had to ask for help in determining the father.

He squeezed her hand tighter as they checked in with the witch at the front desk and then sat down between a man wrestling to get an enchanted wastepaper basket off his head and a woman whose hands would not stop playing rock-paper-scissors with one another. It was much too tight a fit for the both of them, so Severus stood up and let Hermione take the seat. Looking around the busy room, he was rather confused to see various people pointing him out and smiling.

There had been many articles in the Prophet about the night Voldemort was destroyed, and to Severus’s chagrin, he was praised in each one. How he wished he could just be left alone! He did not need the admiration, all the letters from thankful people, the new way of life. There was so much change going on at one time that it was difficult for Severus to keep his head from spinning. But at the moment, he felt as though there was a light shining on him, illuminating his every move. More people by the minute stopped and pointed him out, a few giving a small wave in the hope that it would be returned by the great Severus Snape, Dumbledore’s best spy and Harry Potter’s final ally. At these times Severus had to suppress a snort of laughter – do they really expect me to wave like a frantic schoolboy or acknowledge them like I’m hungry for a bit of spotlight? I think not.

He glanced down at Hermione and saw that she was smiling back at all those who noticed her as well. She held a bit of the fame also, but she was holding it with much modesty and poise. How Severus envied her gracefully appearance in other’s eyes – a skill he had never perfected.

“Ms’ Snape?” an old, female Healer yelled as she combed through the crowd. Severus’s heart skipped a beat each time someone said “Mrs. Snape”; only several months ago he would have never thought it possible. Hermione stood up and they quickly went to her. “Ms’ Hermione Snape?” she asked once more, looking at a clipboard with oversized glasses that much resembled Professor Trelawny’s. Hermione nodded. “Very well, deary, come with me.”

Severus began to follow them, but the Healer turned around abruptly. “’Scuse me, bu’ if you’re waitin’ to be seen, you mus’ stay here ‘til you’re called by your Healer.” Severus blinked.

“No, no,” Hermione smiled, “this is my husband.”

The old witch adjusted her large glasses and peered up at him. “Oh, fine, fine. You can come into the ward, bu’ you mus’ keep yourself in a waitin’ room while she’s tested. Regulations, you know.” Severus got the distinct impression that the Healer had been doing this for a long time, and he thought it best not to argue. He simply nodded and followed as they exited into the left wing where there were much fewer people.

“Paternity check, I see,” the Healer said as she checked the clipboard again, and Hermione flushed slightly. The witch turned to look over her shoulder at Severus and said to him, “You don’ seem angry ‘nough to be the ‘usband.” It was Severus’s turn to feel color rise in his cheeks, albeit faint.

“I assure you, I am the husband,” he said testily. A warning glance from Hermione told him not to pick a fight with such a stubborn older witch. Too soon they came through a set of doors and Hermione was swept to a room hidden behind a curtain, leaving Severus to sit in a small folding chair and read a long outdated copy of Witch Weekly. Scoffing at the thought of himself picking up the magazine, Severus contented himself with drumming his fingers against the side of the chair. The longer he waited, the quicker and more nervously he tapped. Ten minutes later, and the witch reappeared from behind the curtain.

Severus got to his feet, his heart suddenly going a mile a minute. The old Healer took off her glasses and squinted up at him. With painful slowness, she wiped her glasses on the front of her sweater and replaced them on her wrinkled face.

“Well, Mr. Snape, looks like you’re the legi’mate father o’ the child. Will you be needin’ anythin’ else this mornin’?”

Severus stopped listening after “legitimate father.” He was stunned, almost as though he had just been slapped across the face. It was only now that it completely hit him that he was going to be a father. As Hermione came into view beaming, Severus stared at her dazedly, unsure of what to do or say. She came right up to him and hugged him, the warmth from her arms revitalizing him.

“I said, will you be needin’ anythin’ else?” the Healer said once more, a bit louder.

“No, thank you so much,” Hermione replied. Her voice told just how ecstatic she was. Severus embraced her close once more and they Disapparated back for home, but now it was different. As their bodies held tight against one another, one single comprehension kept skirting through Severus’s mind – the stomach he could feel touching his was now holding his child. My child…. The words echoed through Hermione’s head as well, neither of them daring to believe it.

Three months flew by quicker than Severus could stop to count them, and Hermione was getting larger. She was half-way through her pregnancy as of October 26th, and the new term was also underway. Severus loved teaching DADA, and he could tell that Hermione felt the same at her new post. The only thing that bothered him, however, was the fact that he was still Slytherin’s Head of House. After Hermione had commented on it, Severus could not help but continue to think about it and whether or not he was fit for the job. His uncertainty was hidden however, for to anyone but Hermione, he was as Slytherin as ever.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Hanson, and don’t let me catch you lurking around the dungeons this late or it’ll be triple that!” Hermione heard Severus say quite dangerously as he entered their living room and snapped the door shut behind him.

Hermione smirked, but tried to contain it. “It’s only a quarter past seven, Severus,” she said, “students don’t have to be in their dormitories for another hour or so.”

Severus took off his robes roughly and laid them on the back of the chair, revealing the white shirt and black slacks that he only let Hermione see him in. “Yes, well, that’s not important. Hanson is a pompous brat that always causes trouble in my classes, and it will serve him right to –“

Hermione cut him off as comprehension dawned on her. “Wait, wait – Hanson, as in Caleb Hanson?” A dark look from Severus confirmed it. “Severus, you can’t punish him for being down here! He is supposed to work with his Darrell Brown on a potion’s assignment.”

Severus fell into an armchair, but then looked at her quizzically after he computed what she had just said. “Brown is a Slytherin,” he said simply.

Hermione put a hand on her protruding stomach as she got up from the couch she had been sitting on and picked up his robes to put them away. “Yes.”

Severus watched her move, incredulous as to what she was insinuating. He got up and moved behind her, placing his hands around her waist. “Surely you do not mean to suggest that you set an out of class assignment that would require a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to work together?”

Hermione turned around and gave him an eyebrow arch that rivaled his own. “Yes, I did. And don’t say another word about it,” she cut him off before he could make a smirking comment, “I would have thought you would be more open to this sort of thing now, but apparently not. I see nothing wrong with having two students work together. In fact, I’m going to grant him back those points you took from Gryffindor.”

Severus mimicked her facial expression of mock irritation, trying to hide the real irritation behind it. He knew that she was right for wanting to give back the House points, but he didn’t like anyone undermining his authority – even Hermione.

“Oh, shut up,” she said in reply to his thoughts. In return, he pulled her close and kissed her gently. There was something different about their interactions now that she was pregnant, for Severus had had to watch himself on several occasions on which he aroused the overemotional state of woman. He was careful not to do so, for he did not enjoy trying to calm her when she was angry.

Grinning slyly, Hermione threw his robes haphazardly over his head. “If you are going to disrobe, don’t just lay clothes around. Imagine if someone came in, what on earth would they think?” she said in an amused tone.

Severus reached up and pulled the black robes off his face, his hair now sweeping in every direction in the most graceful of messy ways. Fighting to keep from smirking, he ran his hand through his hair. After thinking a moment, Severus replied, “They would think we were an average married couple. Obviously….”

He moved his hands from her waist to her stomach, and suddenly he jerked his hand back, granting him a shocked look from Hermione.

“What is it?” she asked, alarmed by his reaction.

Severus blinked several times, then put his hand slowly back on her stomach. “I felt it kick,” he said quietly. What a strange sensation…it took him completely by surprise.

Hermione suddenly laughed. “Is that all? I thought there was something wrong!” Severus had never felt it before, but only now did he realize that this was probably normal for Hermione. He chose not to respond, but simply let it continue to kick him. He liked the feeling, it made him feel like he was part of the connection the baby had with Hermione.

“And don’t call our child ‘it’,” Hermione said. Severus was shaken from his thoughts, and he looked up at her.

“What am I supposed to call it, then? We don’t know if it is a boy or a girl.”

“I don’t want to know the gender now, I’d rather wait. Oh, that reminds me, we need to start thinking of names!” And with that, Hermione scurried off into the library. During a previous night, they delved into one another’s minds, and Severus knew that she was going to surprise him with a book of baby names, but he planned on acting as if he had no idea anyway. After all, she was so excitable about this topic.

Severus moved back to sit in the armchair once more when the embers in the fireplace began to change shape; someone was Flooing. Muttering under his breath, Severus grabbed his robes and thrust them back over himself before whoever it was had a chance to see him as he was. He did not enjoy ruining most persons’ idea that he dyed all his outfits black and was never seen apart from an article of clothing. He caught himself glancing at Hermione’s figure reaching onto a shelf through the library door, and marveled at how she somehow knew someone might be paying a visit.

The firewood settled and revealed Ginny Weasley’s head bobbing in the flames. She looked around and yelled, “Hello?” Severus gritted his teeth (for he really could not stand the girl), and moved into her line of vision. “Oh, hi,” she said a little disappointedly when she saw him. “Er…is Hermione there?”

Severus nodded curtly and escaped from her sight. He walked as leisurely as possible into the library and said, “The Weasley brat is calling for you.” Hermione’s expression at first was exasperated, for he could never call her anything but ‘the Weasley brat’, but then changed to glee. She had not spoken to her friend since the marriage, for they became busy doing different things. In fact, Ginny did not know that Hermione was pregnant.

Hermione searched her surroundings looking for something Severus did not know, and then she said to him suddenly, “Take your robes off.” His lips parted with such extreme amusement and confusion, that Hermione had to laugh. “No, no, I want to wear it, just for a minute. I don’t want her to see my stomach until I can tell her. This will hide it…please?”

Severus sighed with one look at her earnest face and took off his top black robe for the second time in ten minutes. She quickly slipped it on, then scampered out of the room, arranging the robe so that it did not look like a man’s. Curiosity scratching at him, Severus slowly followed Hermione and waited at the door to the living room, listening in on their feminine, and therefore rapid, conversation.

“Oh, Ginny, it’s so good to see you!”

“I know, I’ve missed you so much. How have you been?”

“Great! Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

“Really? That’s funny, because I have a surprise for you, too.”

“Oh, well you go first.”

“All right, then,” there was a pause and then an abrupt burst; “Harry and I are getting married!”

There was a shriek of joy from Hermione, at which Severus smirked and shook his head.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you! I want you to be my bridesmaid, won’t you?”

“Of course! When is it?”

“We picked February the twelfth, to be close to Valentine’s Day.”

“Fantastic!”

Another pause, then, “Oh, Snape can come if he wants.” Severus had to keep himself from snorting, for he most certainly did NOT want to watch as the Weasley brat and arrogant Potter join in matrimony. But he had a feeling he would be dragged to it regardless.

“Hey, you can’t call him Snape anymore, we’re both Snapes now,” Hermione laughed.

“I guess so,” Ginny said. Obviously she was searching for another topic, for she did not care to talk more about Severus. “Oh, what was your surprise?”

Severus heard the rustling of a robe falling off Hermione’s shoulders, and then an even louder shriek from Ginny.

“Oh my gosh, YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Ginny screamed, clearly ecstatic. “When did this happen?!”

Hermione laughed. “About four months ago.”

“Wow…are you serious? He and you…wow…!” Severus shook his head again and leaned against the wall next to the door crack. He stopped consciously listening now, for he had heard all he had wanted to hear. Several minutes later and Hermione came back into the library, her face flushed and his robes in her hands.

“Severus – she and Harry and getting married!” she burst out, thinking that he did not hear.

He played dumb…and sarcastic. “I see. Very well, then, you can send them a card, and perhaps they’ll get the hint that we don’t want them popping in anymore.” Hermione smiled and used his robes as a whip to hit his arm.

“Oh, stop it! No, I’m going to be the maid of honor!”

“I thought you were just a bridesmaid, an easily excusable position I might add.” He’d slipped out too much.

“You were listening!” Hermione laughed as she placed his robes on the desk beside them. “I don’t care if you were, though. Just before she left she asked me to take a step up and be the maid of honor. So, yes, we’ll both be attending.”

Severus rolled his eyes in a very exasperated way, then smirked when he met her gaze. He could not expect any less from her. However, it was his love for Hermione, and only that, which would make him sit through that ceremony.

“You owe me”, he thought, to which Hermione took a step closer and put her arms around his neck.

“Fair enough. Do you want your compensation now or later?” she replied mischievously.

He exhaled slowly and then covered the small distance between them. Just as their lips touched, Severus felt against his stomach another kick from the baby. Once more, he couldn’t help but smile, for there was a wonderful emotion in the air around a wife and the child inside her that no man could ignore…not even Severus Snape.



I'm so sorry it took me this long to post! I've been SO busy, I'm surprised I even got this chapter finished . First off, though, I wanted to say THANK YOU to all of you who have been reading and replying, because I owe the fact that this fic was chosen for VTM Fanfic of the Month partially to you. Your comments inspired me to write more and built my confidence. Thank you, once more. Next, I must say that this fic is very nearing the end ! I don't know now if there is going to be one more chapter or two...but whichever I choose, there will be an epilogue, so you'll know when the end is here. I had a bit of writer's block with this chapter, because it was so different than other chapters, and I felt I was skipping around too much . Please please please leave feedback here. I love to hear from you, and I especially love constructive critisicm! Anyways, after this long rant, I'm starting the next chapter and hope to have it up for you ASAP. Until next post!

*Lex

Chapter 29

Severus was leaning against the wall of his sitting room, very much uncomfortable in the dress robes he had donned. His black cloak was much too crisp and the collar and shirt were not natural on him. He shifted awkwardly as he checked the hour from a timepiece hidden in the folds of fabric. The wedding was in two hours…not that he was counting. Hermione was supposed to be there early to assist Ginny in whatever a maid of honor was supposed to assist with. Severus couldn’t care less.

He had fooled with the idea of being “sick”, but that ruse was far too overused by his unintelligent pupils and he was sure that Hermione would see through it. Severus had also thought that, perhaps, he would not have to make his presence known until the very last possible minute, but Hermione was insisting that they make an entrance together and that he would mingle with the other men, for most of them did not mind his acquaintance. Severus, on the other hand, would do nothing less than gag and fall unconscious before he “mingled”, as she so naively suggested. No, he would see her off, and then fall back behind his mask of indifference until he was forced to sit though the ceremony. Which, he might add, he would be watching from as far back a chair as was possible.

However, none of this could take place with Hermione in the bathroom. She had not emerged for almost two and a half hours, and Severus was getting agitated. He had not heard any noise from inside it either, except for several bouts of retching about fourty-five minutes ago. During that time he had considered going to her, but through previous morning-sickness experiences, Severus had learned that she wished to be left alone.

But now he finally heard her voice coming from behind the closed door. “Severus, come here a moment.” He did so, opening the door slowly because he was unsure of what he would see. His anticipation fell greatly as he simply saw Hermione struggling with her dress, but nonetheless her face was very pale.

“Are you all right?” he asked, studying her face and the color missing from it. She nodded stiffly, then turned around so that her back was to him.

“Could you help me zip the dress? I can’t even get it up all the way,” she said. Severus laughed almost inaudibly at the thought of helping her into clothes, but shook it away quickly. It was not the time or place for such male thoughts. He took in his hands the pieces of baby blue cloth that were hanging limply around her waist and attempted to pull them upwards, but her stomach held them back. It was very large now, so much so that they had had to enlarge all of her clothes.

“It’s not going to fit. Why didn’t you enlarge this?” he asked. Hermione turned her head around to look at him and sighed.

“We did, when we purchased it, but that was over a month ago. I’ve grown since then.”

“Obviously.” Severus pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered, “Engorgio.” The folds of the dress expanded enough so that it would be possible to wear. He pulled it up over her stomach and around her shoulders, and then put his hands lower to zip it. Several fingers brushed against her bare skin.

“Your hand is freezing!” she gasped suddenly. Severus, unable to help himself, placed the whole of his hand on her lower back and gently caressed it. Her back arched with the cold. “Severus!”

He was very glad that she could not see him smirking. Sighing while admitting defeat, he removed his palm and zipped the dress. He turned her around and marveled at how beautiful she was, even in pregnancy. The only thing that was bothering him was her paleness.

“I do not mean to be derogatory, but could your face is pale enough to belong to a ghost. Are you sure that you feel well? If you do not think you are healthy enough to attend the wedding, I would be most prepared to stay here with you and make a Healing potion.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed at what she thought was another joke of getting out of the wedding (which he bestowed upon her nearly once per hour), but from the look in his eyes she knew that he really was concerned.

“I – no, I’m fine. Throwing up is no treat, that’s all. I’ll admit that I don’t feel my best, but I’ll get through it for Ginny and there’s nothing you can say that will make me miss this wedding,” she replied firmly. There was that Gryffindor nerve again, and Severus was ashamed to admit that he almost admired it. Almost.

“Whatever you think. Just one thing, though,” Severus continued as Hermione turned to the mirror and messed with her hair a bit. “I think you should put more color on your face or something of the like. Otherwise I am sure that your well-being will be constantly questioned.”

Hermione brought her hands to her face and pinched her cheeks, causing two rosy spots to appear. She arched her eyebrow at him, quite clearly saying “Is this what you had in mind?”

Severus licked his lips as he thought for a reply. “You look wonderful, forget I mentioned it.” He leaned in for a quick kiss, to which she smiled her thanks.

“On that note, we need to leave,” Hermione declared. She pulled her silver purse off the counter and over her shoulder, and then quite abruptly exited the bathroom. Severus shook his head, incredulous as to the constant ability of a woman to change their attitude, mind, appearance…you name it. He could not help but notice that there was something in particular different about Hermione this morning.

“Come on, Severus! We can’t be late,” her tense voice now came from the living room. Severus let his breath out through his teeth. The nerve of her...getting terse with me after she kept me waiting out there for over two hours…. But he could not let her see that he was irritated, for that would only cause Hermione to fly off about how she couldn’t help her emotions and how he didn’t understand. Severus very much wished that the state of pregnancy only had to last a few days or so, not the bloody nine months he had endured.

He slowly made his way through the doorway and approached Hermione who was standing beside the fireplace, Floo Powder in hand. All previous thoughts washed from Severus’s mind when he took her in with a full view. His eyes settled on her stomach. All suffrages they both endured would pale in comparison to the child that soon would be born. He mentally cursed himself for being angry with Hermione, for in truth she really couldn’t help it.

She reached forward and grabbed his forearm, pulling him into position beside her. She threw the Floo powder into the fire and said clearly, “The Burrow!” They stepped into the emerald flames and with several nauseating spins, they landed gracefully in the kitchen of the Weasley house. Harry had known that the Burrow was where he felt most at home, besides Hogwarts, and Ginny loved the set up for Fleur and Bill’s wedding, so there was no question as to where the ceremony would be held.

As they stepped out of the fireplace, Severus looked warily down at Hermione, for even he had to admit that that particular Floo journey made him feel a bit sick. Her hand was on her stomach and her head down for a moment, but very quickly she resumed a full standing position and put a smile on the face that had now lost all color she had forced it to take on. Who am I kidding, Severus found himself muttering in his mind while he placed his hand on the small of her back, I do admire that nerve of hers. Merlin, she’s as good an actor as I was for Voldemort.

There were too many people to count running this way and that in the kitchen (where the fireplace was positioned), but most of them stopped and exclaimed in happiness when they saw the two people who had just appeared in their midst. Weasleys and Order Members and old classmates and Aurors came and shook his hand, clapped him on the back and gave words of greeting. He was dazed with the attention. Gratefully those same people ran and hugged Hermione in turn, marveling and obsessing over her size and the females all asking questions about the baby. Only Severus, whose mental connection to Hermione had strengthened ten-fold since the marriage, knew how uneasy and sickly she felt. But that smile hid it all.

Quicker than he could see, Ginny entered their midst in a bathrobe, shrieked when she saw Hermione, and pulled her off somewhere, most likely to put on the dress. And with that Severus was left alone. Well, of course he most certainly was not alone, but without Hermione at his side he felt like his appearance was positively melting, leaving only the body (which was very in the way) remaining.

Severus removed himself as quickly as possible from the cramped house and made his way onto the lawn, breathing deeply with the renewed air supply. There were still a great many people outside, but they were spread out and setting up the chairs and last-minute decorations. Severus glided along rather unnoticed until he came across the tent which was clearly to be for the reception. No people were here, as it was ready to be used and needed to attention, so this was the perfect spot to sit.

Severus pulled up a random chair and sat next to a buffet table of sorts. There was a punch bowl next to him and a bottle of champagne. Fighting the urge to break the seal of the wine, Severus poured himself a small goblet of the punch and sipped it slowly. Not bad, but he would prefer the champagne. He was about to open the bottle, when footsteps signaled someone approaching him. He stood up slowly and chose to take a few steps forward to lean expectantly, though much the opposite at the same time, on one of the tent poles. Sipping the punch without tasting a drop of it, the man came into view – black hair, green eyes, scarlet scar and all.

Speaking of the scar, Severus’s eyes immediately focused on it. Though partially covered with hair, it was visible, though clearly not as intense as it had been for so many years. Oh yes, it was still quite obvious, but Severus got the distinct and rather odd impression of it being somewhat like a corpse; what had been living in it and possessing it at times had passed on, leaving only a cold reminder of what had been. As Harry coughed, Severus’s eyes averted to their usual resting spot between Harry’s eyes.

“Yes, Potter?” he said slowly, quite unsure of what this confrontation was about. “Shouldn’t you be off getting ready, primping yourself in front of a vanity or something of the like?” It had slipped out so easily, the snide comment flying off the tip of his tongue and into dead air on sheer habit. Now observing clothing, Severus could see that Harry was indeed ready as he would ever be for a wedding: dress robes on, a nervous facade manifesting itself in all little movements, and that hair of his sticking out in all directions. Typical.

Harry blinked pointedly and put his hands in his pockets. This silence for a retort cut Severus to the quick – never had any Potter turned the other cheek willingly to his insults. Slowly, Harry pulled out his wand, but laid in on the table beside them. Severus stared at it until Harry’s voice broke the silence.

“I want to talk to you, Snape, whether or not you feel the need to be civil to me, and I want to do it without threat of wands,” he said a little too quietly for Severus’s liking. He looked back up into his face, once more focusing between his eyes.

“I’m listening.”

There was a pause, in which Harry most certainly became more hesitant for the topic he was about to breach. Severus shifted his weight to his other foot, curiosity ebbing at him.

“There have been things I’ve been wanting to ask you and tell you since the first time you spoke to me, and you are going to answer me now because we both know you owe me that much. I am not my father,” he continued, confidence building, “like you think I am. Right now, we are just two men having a conversation, and that’s all. Because in case you haven’t noticed, we are long past the times of you standing over my cauldron and deducting House points.”

Severus, for once in his life, had nothing to say to Harry. He tried to come up with a comment, but he couldn’t do it. His face remained the same sternness, however, for that was one thing he would not let slip. In his silence, Harry continued.

“I understand that you hated my dad…and my mum,” Harry took a breath and continued. Severus’s lips parted almost subconsciously, and Harry mistook it for confusion. “Back in fifth year, you yelled yourself hoarse warning me to never tell my friends of the memory I saw. I kept my word, but I made an effort to remember it. I haven’t forgotten how my mum and dad looked or what they said, or what happened between the three of you. I…I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did.”

Severus was literally speechless by this point. His brow furrowed; surely this wasn’t Harry Potter, the same arrogant boy he had always despised? Was the boy capable of such…. He could not even finish the thought, however he did note that Harry was most certainly not a boy anymore. This was so unexpected, so unprecedented that he did nothing but let him continue.

“And if you remember, the last time we truly spoke down in the dungeons, Hermione had said that I would have to trust her, for she would not ask you to repeat your story for me. I need to know now, though. I only know bits and pieces from Ginny, but I have this feeling that there’s some connection with me. I know there’s more to that memory I saw three years ago, so don’t try to pretend otherwise. But before we get into that, I have one question that I think you can answer for me.”

Severus swallowed, licked his lips and said, “We'll see.”

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment, as though in memory. When he opened them, he looked right at Severus. “Ever since I was young, I’ve had dreams about the night my parents were killed, but there was one in particular that keeps jumping out.” Severus was sure he must have paled, but he was glad the shadows hid most of his face. “In that dream, there is always someone that looks almost exactly like you bending over me for a few moments, but then it disappears. Were you at my house that night…I mean, is that a memory of you?”

Severus slowly set his drink down and refocused his eyes so that he was looking directly into Harry’s. How could he deny it, when those eyes had hardly changed since the first time he saw them on the exact night they were discussing?

“You have a very irregular mind, Potter,” Severus replied in as unreadable tone as he could manage, “to be able to draw a memory from so long ago, awake or asleep.”

Harry now shifted and lowered his voice several levels. “Why were you there?”

And that, Severus decided, was where he would have to draw the line. He did not reply, and Harry started to speak, but someone else came running towards them.

“Harry! Been looking everywhere for you,” a panting Neville appeared from behind the side of the curtain. He shrank back the slightest amount when he saw Harry’s company (for he had never been overly fond of Snape), and Severus snorted with the pride that he could still instill fear. “Er, Mrs. Weasley wants to see you. You’d better hurry, too, she’s in a frenzy getting Ginny ready.”

“Right. Thanks, Neville,” Harry replied, and Neville strode off. They stood there for several moments, neither speaking. Severus’s face was purposely rigid, for he would not speak another word on the subject. When Harry reluctantly saw that the battle was over and started to follow Neville, Severus grabbed his arm to stop him.

Turning back around to question, Harry saw Severus touch the tip of his wand to his temple and draw out several long, wispy strands of thought. He pulled a small vial out of an inside pocket of his robes and corked the memories inside. Severus did all of this silently, leaving Harry utterly confused. Finally, he placed the miniature bottle into Harry’s hand, holding it there firmly as he spoke.

“Your answers. You will not view them until it is absolutely necessary, nor will you show anyone but yourself. Once you have seen the contents of this vial, I can see no plausible reason why we should continue communications with one another. My…congratulations…on your marriage in advance.”

It took all Severus had to offer up that piece of bit of chivalry. Imagining the future, he could not see himself holding a conversation with Potter once the answers to all those questions were known. Hermione was different – she could know those things and understand him and love him more for them. Harry on the other hand…well, Severus did not really want to sit through the embarrassment to find out what kind of moral fiber was weaved into Potter’s backbone. With that, Severus let go of the vial, leaving Harry to stand there staring at him for a few more moments until he decided that he really must go. Right before he left, Harry turned back.

“Just one more thing. I never properly…thanked you for your efforts in the war. I’m not just talking about fighting with me, though that is definitely high on the list; I mean all the times you helped Hermione and all the times when you did what you had to do because you knew it was right. And that includes putting up with my cheek from day one. Just…thanks,” he finished with a half-smirk and a shrug. One swift nod later, and Harry was following Neville back toward the house.

Once Severus was alone, he fell back into his chair. In that moment, Harry became different in his eyes. In Severus’s conscious mind, he was still the same overconfident child he had always despised, but beneath that layer was a grudging respect. No James Potter would ever have had the courage to do what he had just done, and Harry probably knew it from the reaction, or lack thereof, he received from Severus. He was sure that the feeling of underlying respect was mutual between them, but that was where it would stay - underneath. It seemed like no time at all passed by before the guests began to file into the folding chairs farther down the lawn.

For some reason unbeknownst to Severus, he decided that he would join the crowd. He could see it from a distance here, but something made him want to walk right up and sit in the last row. On his walk back up toward the site of the ceremony, Severus couldn’t help but think of just how much he was changing – his opinions, his decisions, and even how he felt. Watch it, he shook himself mentally, or you’ll wind up as sentimental as Dumbledore was.

It was not until Severus sat down in the far corner seat that he realized that that may not be such a bad thing. But look where it got him…. Dumbledore’s sentimentality had landed him in many a rough spot, since he could only see the best of people. He had never changed, even in his last moments. The last moments you stole from him, Severus cursed himself before reconsidering. But is it still stealing if one is told to take? He had had this mental discussion more times than he could count, even now, when there was no question as to the loyalty of his actions. I suppose there are some things that no man could remove from their head or their heart. But now was not the time for this. Literally shaking his head, Severus put all thoughts on the matter out of consideration.

As the bridesmaids and groomsmen climbed several white steps and took their places near the altar, the music started playing and Severus spotted Hermione. He was not so far away that he could not clearly see her, and he was glad that he could – it would give him something to focus on. His eyes flitted to Harry, who was standing at the front of the middle aisle, looking as nervous and as happy as the combination could allow. Turning his head with the rest of the wizards seated with him, Ginny walked past in time to the music.

She looked stunning, even Severus had to admit that. The flowing white wedding gown fit her snugly, and there was a sparkling tiara securing a sheer veil that covered her face. Her expression was quite visible, however, and it was clear that this was the moment of her life. However, Severus had not grown that sentimental. He turned back around to face the front, and found Hermione once more. Her eyes scanned the crowd and finally spotted him. She smiled at him, and that expression held Severus quite oblivious to anything else. Gladly, he might add.

He had had a certain skill since childhood, and that was to melt away from current surroundings if need be and immerse himself in another time or place; almost as if jumping into a Pensieve. Severus never really saw the good in a Pensieve personally, but after first confessing to Dumbledore, the Headmaster had insisted that placing certain memories in a Pensieve would help him “recover” (so to speak). Severus complied only to assist in winning the favor of the elder wizard, and he got into the habit of continuing the practice. It was rare, however, that he could indulge in the fabrications of his own mind with no other interruptions or stressful thoughts.

Such was the case in this moment. Severus found his sight fixed on Hermione while pleasant memories surrounded him and made him forget that he was really sitting through a wedding. Time took hold of his watch and his mind until a loud chorus of music shattered the bubble around him. It must be over…. The small band was playing a joyous reprise of the Wedding March, and Harry and Ginny were kissing at the front of the lawn (Severus averted his gaze in attempt to keep his lunch down).

People all around him were beginning to stand and file out of their seats, which made for a very crowded middle aisle, but Severus had eyes for no one but Hermione. The same way he had ears for her alone amid the chaos of happy wedding-goers, which was why he saw what no one else did.

Hermione had taken several steps down towards the folding chairs when she stopped abruptly. The small bouquet that had been in her hands fell to the ground, as did she. It was as if in slow motion, and the only mental word he was getting from her were simply, “Severus!” Severus was up and pushing his way through the witches and wizards before anyone else registered that something was wrong with her.

Stupid - Severus gave up his attempts at fighting through the crowd and Apparated to the front. Harry and Ginny had just broken apart from one another, but now heads were beginning to turn to see why a man had just Apparated in front of the newlyweds. As Severus ran to Hermione and knelt beside her, finally others took notice of the woman.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Is she all right?”

“Hermione!” Ginny breathed and was quickly beside Severus, disregarding her beautiful white gown that was now spread on the ground.

Severus did not hear them. He placed his hands on either side of Hermione’s face and tried to help her into a sitting position, but she resolutely refused to move. "Hermione, what is it?" Their mental connection kept their thoughts in tune, and she heard him above all the noise. He knew the answer the moment he asked it.

“M-my water broke,” she said quietly. Hermione was not one to lose control in a frightening situation, but Severus could tell that she was fighting not to panic. “Help me, Severus, do something!”

No, no, no, no…not now, not here! Severus’s heart clenched. Fortunately, Ginny had heard Hermione’s whisper and had taken that fiery initiative of hers to take matters into her own hands. In one swift, quick motion, she turned to face the swarm of people approaching to see what had happened and addressed them. “Everyone had better back up and give her room to breathe if you know what’s good for you. The baby is coming – she’s going into labor!” The noise level rose rapidly in excitement. Severus was not so amused.

“Molly!” he shouted. “Get over here, now!” Within minutes, Hermione was in the middle of a circle of five people: Severus, Ginny, Harry, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. “We have to get her to St. Mungo’s,” Severus said while putting his hands now around her sides in another attempt to get her up.

“No!” Molly shouted, and Severus removed his hands. “You can’t move her now. Hermione,” she now addressed her, “how long have you been getting contractions, and how far apart are they?”

Hermione was breathing very irregular, and Severus knew she was in pain. Every sense of his was numbed while he realized he was the proverbial useless husband – he could do nothing for her. It took another minute or so for Hermione to speak.

“I’ve been h-having them all day, and now they’re about five minutes apart.”

Molly’s eyes widened as she turned to Severus. “She’s been having contractions all day, and you didn’t think anything of it? Really, Severus!” That exasperated line alone made him want to lash out at her. He didn’t know…or at least, he didn’t think it was this serious….

“Don’t blame Severus. I hid them from him, and I didn’t say anything all day because I knew how important this wedding was. I wasn’t going to miss – oh!” Hermione said, ending with a gasp of pain as she closed her eyes and clutched her lower stomach.

“Merlin, Hermione!” Ginny yelled. “I would have put off the wedding if I had any idea that you were going to have the baby today, you should have known that!”

“Ginny, now’s not the time,” Harry cut across her. “Mrs. Weasley, what should we do?” Severus noted the panic in his voice, as if it was his wife in labor. Harry had a genuine love for Hermione, and Severus reluctantly had to admit that that was yet another thing to be respected. Now wasn’t the time for him to be thinking about Harry, either.

“If the contractions are coming that quickly, then we don’t have enough time to get her to St. Mungo’s, and it’s not safe to Apparate. Severus, why didn’t you have her in a room there several days before the due date for safety? It’s common knowledge that you should do that for a safe delivery!” Molly said angrily.

Severus gritted his teeth and shot back sarcastically, “We already booked a room for her, but the baby’s coming premature. Or is it common knowledge to have her in St. Mungo’s three weeks ahead of time?”

She bit back a retort. “Someone must get a Healer, and we should get her onto something and out of that dress.”

“I’ll go for a Healer,” Harry said. And with that, he Disapparated.

“Arthur, get the guests to the reception tent. The last thing she needs is an audience for this,” was Molly’s next order. Severus could not have put it better.

He pulled out his wand with his left hand, for Hermione was holding his right hand in a death grip. Severus conjured a stretcher under her and transfigured her bridesmaid dress into something similar to a Muggle hospital gown, but less revealing for the time being.

“She should have a Healing Potion of some kind, to help the pain,” he murmured, but Molly shook her head.

“It’s unsafe to give her any sort of tonic – it could interfere with the birth process. Usually the Healer would have enough time to cast the charm before labor started, but it looks like you are going to have to do this naturally, dear,” Molly patted Hermione’s other hand in a motherly way. “Don’t worry. I had Bill this way, and look how many followed him!”

Severus had a feeling that that tidbit of information didn’t make Hermione any less scared. He did not ask what the charm she had mentioned was, for he knew he had already deemed the title of Ignorant about this sort of thing and was not willing to make more of a fool out of himself.

He saw Hermione’s stomach muscles tense and she moaned in pain, escalating to a shriek. Severus so hated seeing her in this way, it made his heart ache for her. The sounds of her ragged breathing melted in time to his own pounding heartbeats as they waited for Harry to return with the Healer. Minutes ticked by while Molly acted the part of an unofficial midwife and he simply continued to hold her hand. Ginny had charmed a piece of cloth to continually wipe the sweat off of Hermione’s face. But while Hermione’s eyes weren’t clenched tightly shut, they were fixed upon Severus’s.

He didn’t want it to be this way. Severus had wanted her to have the baby in a safe environment like St. Mungo’s…or even Hogwarts if fate fell that way. But not here, on the lawn of the Burrow. While he held her hand and her gaze, Severus let his mind wander as before, but this time taking Hermione’s with him. If he could not give her a comfortable delivery, he could try to calm her. He extended his other hand and gently stroked the side of Hermione’s face.

She grimaced with her eyes shut tight in an attempt not to scream again. Shh…Severus gently told her. It’s all right, my love, I am here….



Oh, the suspense!!! Sadly, there is only one more chapter left...or I suppose the title of "Epilogue" would be more fitting. All right, then, the next post will be the Epilogue, and then that will be the end ! But on that note, I'm glad I ended this last chapter the way I did...I think it's a fitting end to the last real "chapter". I've started working the Epilogue, and I must say that I am very pleased with it so far - I think you all will like it! In the meantime, though, please please please let me know what you think of this chapter by leaving feedback here. I hope to have the Epilogue to you in about a week, give or take a few days. Thank you all sooo much for following this story up to the end (which is so very close to being here)! Until the next and last post....

*Lex

A/N - Ok, I am literally shaking in my chair as I'm about to post this for fear that I'm not doing the story justice with this final installment . It's the longest chapter I've written, and I have been obsessing over it for weeks now . First, though, I must apologize for the three weeks (which is MUCH too long) you've been waiting for it. One thing after another, and not to mention I wanted to make this the BEST chapter, so I kept fixing all the details. So here it is, done and finished, finally! I just wanted you to know that everything in it is correct, canon or not, haha. So without further ado, I present to you the Epilogue of That Which Does Not Hurt Us, Only Makes Us Stronger - chapter 30.

Chapter 30

“Mum! Mum, wake up!”

The frantic whisper roused both Hermione and Severus, though Severus let her take control this time, for he had done it the last several occasions. He grunted and turned around in the bed so that out of the slits in his eyes he could watch and listen.

“Shh…you mustn’t wake Daddy, Cassia. What’s the matter?” Hermione whispered back. She didn’t know that he was awake, but he was not complaining. Severus squinted to see the clock on the wall, which claimed that it was almost four in the morning – they would have to be awake soon anyway.

He refocused his gaze over the curves of his wife to his daughter - his daughter - in a pale purple nightdress standing next to the bed. Cassia had just turned six years old, though rather small for her age. Perhaps this was because she was born premature, but he could not be sure. She had very black eyes and hair, and she inherited Hermione’s button nose and a gentle curl in her hair. She was so beautiful to Severus. Very pale freckles danced over the bridge of her nose and the skin high on her cheeks, but it was her eyes that held him fixated, as usual. They were very large and round, their black depths taking in anything and everything that crossed their path with admiration and excitement.

“I had a bad dream,” the small voice said through cupped hands. “Can I sleep with you?”

Hermione sighed, but Severus knew she was smiling. “Of course, hon, but remember, we’re going to have to wake up again in about half and hour. We wouldn’t want to be late for the Quidditch World Cup, would we?”

At those words, Severus saw his daughter’s eyes light up. She squealed and hopped on the balls of her feet before realizing that she was supposed to be scared from a nightmare. Unable to stop smiling, the girl climbed over Hermione to rest between her and Severus, which was Cassia’s favorite place. Severus quickly shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep, but he didn’t fool Cassia.

“Daddy, are you excited?” she whispered to him. He positively melted when she called him “Daddy.” How could he ignore her, especially when she asked a question so innocently?

He opened his eyes and curved his head so that he was looking at her, and then smirked. “Yes, I am. You should try to get to sleep, though, or you’ll be too tired to sit through the match. I know I would be.” There was an awed look in her eyes of understanding as she slowly nodded her head and closed those obsidian orbs. Severus looked up and saw that Hermione had been watching them. A knowing smile, and she turned back over to sleep again. He followed suit, wrapping his arm around the miniature frame that was snuggling close to him. Severus was at peace here.

Dawn, and the Snape family prepared to leave via Portkey. Hermione held one of the throw pillows from the sitting room as she checked her mental list of things to bring while Severus and Cassia stood patiently waiting by her side. “Ok, I think we have everything…tickets, wands, money for the tent –“

“Don’t forget money for souvenirs!” Cassia piped up excitedly. Hermione smiled as she nodded.

“Yes, that would be fine.”

Cassia, despite her age, had a passion for quidditch – she loved everything about it. Severus was at a loss as to where she developed the liking – “It’s almost as though she has some of Harry’s genes,” Hermione laughed one day. Severus was not amused - since neither he nor Hermione really cared for the sport. Regardless of how she came to love it, when they heard that the Quidditch World Cup was going to be in Scotland this year, her parents had decided that it would be a very nice birthday gift.

Severus glanced at the clock. “One more minute.” Hermione nodded and she put the pillow in the middle of the three of them, waiting for the Portkey to activate. Cassia gripped it tightly and bounced on the balls of her feet again, clearly wanting to leave. Severus followed Hermione’s arm up to her frame, then down to her stomach. She was just beginning to show of her second pregnancy. Since Severus and Hermione had both been only children, they didn’t want to repeat that in their next generation. They had decided to have at least two children, but several years apart. Severus was not averse to having another child, for he adored being a father. Secretly he did wish to have a son, and at first he had thought that he would like to try until they had one. He quickly shook himself after that thought, for he was reminded of the Weasleys with six sons before a daughter. Then again, if all their children were like dear Cassia….

“Severus,” Hermione asked him as thirty seconds came close, “do you think she should try this herself? She’s never gone by Portkey before. I think you should help her.” Severus glanced down at his daughter and saw that she was losing grip on the pillow as she lost interest in just standing there and began to look around the room. Severus nodded.

“Here, love,” Severus reached down and lifted her under her arms and pulled her up close to him so that her legs were around his waist and her arms around his neck. “We’re going to try it this way.”

Cassia started giggling as she began bouncing in his arms. She thought this was a game, for he had often picked her up like this and then thrown her and dipped her. This was not the time, though. “No, no, Cassia. You must stay still,” Severus told her quietly. “Reach with your hand and touch the pillow. Hold tight to me, but don’t let go of the pillow. Three…two…one….”

As they felt the familiar jerk behind the navel, Cassia gasped with discomfort, but did not let go of the pillow. They whirled through time and space until very quickly a hill came into view and a half-second later, they landed. Hermione stumbled but stayed upright. Severus, with the strange weight placement, lost his balance and landed painfully on his knees. He winced, but tried to make it into another game. He leaned forward and placed his clinging daughter on her back in the grass, leaned over her, and without warning began to tickle her.

Cassia’s laughter pierced the air, and as more people began Apparating and Portkey-ing to the area, they began to look and smile. Severus had grown more accustomed to strangers and acquaintances alike noticing him and the new spring in his step after the birth of their daughter, but he certainly did not like it much more than before. He stopped tickling her as soon as he realized they were drawing attention, and he pulled her up into a standing position.

“Mustn’t be late, Cassia,” Hermione reminded her as she took her daughter’s hand, “we want to get in before the rush.” Cassia squealed again with anticipation, and they began to walk over a hill that they had arrived at the base of.

Rays of sunlight were just beginning to paint the skies, Severus noted, as he walked slightly behind his wife and child. The crisp summer air was comfortably cool, and there was thankfully not a cloud in the sky. Steps later, and they peaked the hill. Sloping downward, rows and rows and rows of little tents lined along the grass, leading to a bit of forest and a distant stadium in which the game would take place.

Severus let his breath out through his teeth as he marveled at the sight; there was something beautiful about it that had nothing to do with the scenery. Perhaps it was that so many witches and wizards could join together for something as simple as a quidditch match with not a fear in the world, or maybe it was that he and his new family fit into this new world better than he ever had in the old one. Once more, Hermione gave him a knowing, loving look, before she looked down at Cassia.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” she motioned out towards the landscape. Cassia nodded, those wide eyes of hers apparently working overtime in an attempt to see everything. Severus had never been to a Quidditch World Cup before, not even during the Death Eater attack in Hermione’s fourth year at school, for he had declined the offer and chose instead to feed a lie that he was needed with Dumbledore at the time. Anyway, Hermione was the only one who had gone through this procedure of checking in and whatnot, so Severus gladly let her lead the way.

Down the other side of the hill, and a small cottage came into view. Hermione told them to wait outside, and in several minutes, she returned carrying a little less money in her purse. Their tent was in row 14, tent 3.

As they walked to their tent site, Severus became aware of the number of wizards roaming around them. There must have been thousands stretched across the field, and it was only five in the morning! It only went to show just how much of life he had been missing while playing the not-so-coveted role of spy. Now, however, he had time to rebuild and double over all the things he had not done before.

Through the sea of cheerful witches and wizards, Hermione pointed out some and waved. Severus counted at least thirty of her old classmates, over twenty of his own, and friends that still kept in touch whom they spotted through the crowd.

“Are we almost there? My legs are tired,” Cassia piped up below Severus after they had picked through the groups of people and tents to a row that was a little less full.

“Actually,” Hermione paused as she counted along the small lots they had walked past, “here we are!” A small, very Muggle-ish tent stood before them, almost identical to several others in the area. It looked to only hold about two people, with no extra room to move around. Had Severus not known that things were in most cases not what they seem, he would have checked with Hermione to make sure that they were indeed in the right spot.

He was the first of the three of them to venture into their tent. As he opened the flap, leaned over, and poked his head inside, he heard his daughter’s voice speaking worriedly to Hermione:

“I don’t think there’s gonna be enough room for Daddy…he’s too big!”

Severus chuckled to himself and turned back around. “I think there’s going to be enough room for everyone,” he told her quietly. He took her hand into his own and pulled her into the tent. From the inside, it was magically expanded, with a distinct kitchen, lounge, and two bedrooms, all divided with decorative swings of cloth. Those eyes of hers lit up once again.

“Wow!” Cassia yelled as she ran over to one of the beds and began to jump on it. Severus had always wondered what was so interesting to a child’s mind about flinging oneself into the air off of objects that were rather high for one’s height, and then falling back down on top of them. He had tried to forgot his childhood and the pathetic forms of amusement that he created, but he was sure that he hadn’t been a daredevil in jumping. The motherly voice that came beside him shattered those thoughts.

“Don’t jump on the bed, Cassia, you know that’s not allowed.”

Her small face fell, as did her body when it cam to a halt on the top of the bed.

“When should we head up to the stadium?” Severus turned to ask Hermione as she kept watch on Cassia to make sure she was not jumping.

She looked up at him. “Well, if the match starts at ten and it’ll take about twenty minutes to get there and find seats…not to mention buying that souvenir Cassia wants and…,” a small crease formed on her forehead as she figured with time. “I think if we leave around eight-thirty, that would give us enough time for everything, and some extra in case we run into some people that want to chat.”

Severus was about to say something about arriving three hours early, but he could imagine her answers already. “That’s when our Portkey was set up to leave…I don’t want to use side-along Apparition with Cassia yet…we avoid the rush this way…”

Severus exhaled slowly and glanced over at Cassia, who sharply landed on the bed with an innocent smile and windswept hair. He contained his smirk as he took off his outer cloak and laid it on one of the draped chairs next to him.

“What are the chances that she’ll fall back asleep until we need to leave?” he asked mentally.

“Slim to none. I could always give her a bit of sleeping potion, though.”

Severus arched his brow. “You carry sleeping potion with you?” he murmured in slight surprise.

She smiled. “Mothers carry anything that could possibly be useful.”

Another glance at his daughter showed Cassia off the bed and crawling along the floor, quite clearly in the midst of an imaginary game in which she was a creature of some sort.

“She’s too clever for that trick. She wouldn’t let you get within three feet of her with some sleeping potion,” he chuckled as he moved closer to Hermione and put his arm around the small of her back.

Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re right, but I think it’s your genetics to blame for that cleverness.”

This time his efforts were no match for the smirk. “I’d like to think it was a pleasant combination, thank you. Speaking of that…,” Severus moved his other hand to rest on her stomach. “How’s the baby?”

Hermione laughed inwardly. “Severus, I’m only two months pregnant. But I’m certain that the baby is fine. Then again, I’ve only been through this once before, and it was all so new and confusing to me then that I don’t really know much…much about….”

Her thoughts were stifled as Severus leaned his forehead to touch hers and caressed his lips against hers. Through their kiss he managed to project, “You are very long-winded, love.”

She pulled him a little deeper and brought her hands up to the nape of his neck. “If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t have the pleasure of quieting me,” her devious little voice echoed in his brain. His mind reeled at the ideas that thought induced, and saw how right she was. Only the fact that they were still in plain sight of Cassia made him reluctantly pull away.

“Daddy?”

He turned his head in response to the small voice that was now standing back up and moving closer.

“I’m hungry.”

Severus looked over at his wife, who nodded her head and said, “You can take her down to the end of this row of tents – I saw a witch with a cart of Honeydukes candy.”

Cassia’s face lit up and she squealed again. Severus frowned. “Candy? At five in the morning?” It was much unlike his wife to indulge in their daughter’s mountain-sized sweet tooth.

“Yes, World Cup tickets are hard to come by, and she may never get to attend one again. I don’t see anything wrong in letting her remember it with a few extra sweets,” Hermione gave him a knowing arch of the eyebrow as he put his cloak back on. “Remember, her grandparents are dentists. They love seeing her, and what will it matter if the next visit is in a dentistry chair?”

Severus snorted but covered it with a cough as Cassia came closer. “I’ve seen the tools they use, and I don’t think Cassia would take too kindly to them being put in her mouth. I am quite positive I’ve seen diagrams in some Middle Aged reading with the same instruments being used as torture devices.”

Hermione smirked while she bent down in front of her daughter and straightened the robes and hair. “I’ll agree that the tools can look frightening, but every Muggle has had those ‘torture devices’ put in their mouths, and no one’s died yet because of it. Besides, we agreed that we would raise our children with some Muggle customs. There’s no harm in it.” She finished as she plucked a kiss on Cassia’s cheek. “All right, honey, Daddy will get you what you’d like, but no more than two Galleons on candy if you still want a souvenir. Understand?”

She nodded and slipped her small hand into Severus’s. Hermione gave him a quick kiss also, which gave Cassia enough amusement to giggle. His expression immediately lightened, albeit faintly – he couldn’t help it. They walked together out of the tent and into the stream of witches and wizards moving up and down their row of tents. Within minutes they found the cart Hermione had mentioned, surrounded by several other food kiosks. Of course, Cassia pointed at the one marked “Honeydukes,” and pulled him towards it.

The moment they found a place in line a small girl came running toward them, laughing and looking over her shoulder as if she was playing some sort of tag. She turned to look where she was going a second too late, and ran into Severus’s leg with enough force to knock her down. He whipped his head in her direction to yell at the parents for letting her run wild, but found no adult coming to scoop her up. His gaze moved down to the girl at his feet, who was shaking her head to clear it from the impact, when his eyes widened.

If he had not known better, Severus would have thought that he had somehow been transported back in time and was staring down at Lily Potter. Her hair was beautifully red, her face in the same structure, and identical shocking green eyes; she looked to be about five years old. As if in a sort of daze, he watched as Cassia removed her hand from his and turned to face the girl.

“Hi, I’m Cassia. What’s your name?” his daughter said with the innocent intention of making friends, as only children could do. She extended her hand and pulled the girl to her feet.

“Thanks. I’m Lily.” she brushed the dirt off her pale yellow skirt and shirt. “Sorry I ran into you, Mister,” she directed toward Severus, to which he found he could not respond – his vocal cords seemed to be malfunctioning. His thoughts also were strange, for they played the same things over and over like a broken record: No…that’s impossible…it cannot be. Cassia tugged on his sleeve.

“Are you ok, Daddy?” Severus closed his mouth, which he just realized had been slightly open and nodded. A muffled shouting became audible over the murmur of the crowd, however. “Lily…Lily! Where are you?” It was coming closer. Severus looked down, but the girls were in a conversation and had not heard it.

A man burst through a cluster of wizards and came into their line of vision. Severus did not get a good look at him, however, for he was running and already kneeling in front of Lily, facing away from him.

“Don’t you ever, ever, run away from me in a crowd of people again. Do you understand me, Lily?” the man told her harshly. Severus saw her eyes wide and afraid, like every other child being scolded, and apparently so did her father, for he changed his tone. “You scared me when I couldn’t find you. Remember the talk we had? There are some people in this world that might want to hurt you, and you should always stay by me or Mommy. Okay?” She nodded.

Meanwhile, all the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together in Severus’s head. The name of the girl, the hair and eyes, the familiar voice of her father, and of course, the black hair on the back of his head. His idea was confirmed when he saw a woman with red hair holding the hand of a small boy and carrying a baby walk briskly in their direction. The Weasley brat herself…the moment he thought it, though, it didn’t sound right. He hadn’t mentioned her in a very long time, and now the nickname didn’t really fit.

Too late did he realize the awkwardness of the situation. Had he seen what was coming, Severus would have pulled Cassia away and back to the tent, but now she was talking to the Lily again, and Ginny was approaching her husband and child. She smiled and came closer, but slowed down a bit when she saw Severus. Of all the strange things, however, her smile broadened as she looked from him to their daughters, and back to Severus.

Harry bent down and brushed the knees of his trousers off as he addressed Severus. “I apologize that my daughter ran into you, sir. She just started running away before I could grab her, but it looks like she’s already made friends with…your…,” he trailed off as he lifted his head up and saw for the first time who he had been talking to.

Harry stood up to his full height, now just barely shorter than Severus, and there was a connection. A silent, understanding, and powerful connection. They stared into each other’s eyes for a full thirty seconds before Harry said something. “Is - is this your daughter? She’s, er, she’s very beautiful, Snape.” It was clear that he meant it.

Severus’s lips parted, and he glanced down at Lily before replying quietly, “As is yours.” Something in Harry’s eyes flickered ever-so-slightly. Twinkled, more like, but it was gone before Severus could contemplate it. Another moment passed before Ginny approached them.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other!” she said enthusiastically to Severus, eyes drifting back down to Cassia. “This must be the Cassia Hermione told me about. How old is she?”

Her pure and friendly conversational speaking threw Severus a little off guard while he was still staring at Harry. “Six.”

“My birthday was three days ago!” Cassia piped up. Ginny smiled a motherly smile at her.

“It’s so nice that she a Lily are getting along! Lily is five, and James is three,” she gently squeezed the hand of the little boy, who clearly had his mother’s features, “and Albus here is just a year old.” Albus also had piercing green eyes, but jet black hair as well. He was obviously going to look just like the Potter men before him.

Suddenly Harry coughed and grabbed Lily’s hand. “You wanted to get a Holyhead Harpie hat, didn’t you? Come on, I see an opening with the wizard selling them.” As quickly as that, both of them whisked away.

“Why’d she have to go so fast?” Cassia asked, a little disappointedly. She slipped her hand up to clutch the pocket of Severus’s robes, as if she was afraid he would leave, also.

“I think I know,” Ginny said so only Severus could hear. He really wished to be leaving, for the situation was still a bit uncomfortable for him, but something in Ginny’s voice made him listen. “Er…I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but then again I don’t see what it would hurt. On the day of little Albus’s birth he wanted…well, Harry insisted that we name him Albus Severus. That was all he said on the matter, and just now was the only other time that he’s made any reference to it. I would assume that was why he left so quickly, as soon as I mentioned Albus – probably felt a little awkward. And don’t ask me why he did it, because he never told me.”

Severus tried to keep his expression as impassive as possible, but he was afraid something would break through the surface. Potter named his child after me? Me…the git he always hated? Unless he…but still, I never implied….

His bearings were completely thrown up in smoke with the weight of it all. Everything was changing so fast – while in reality it had taken 6 years, each second seemed to pass so quickly that the amount of time since the Final Battle seemed blown beyond proportion. With his head slightly down, Harry returned with Lily, who was sporting a brilliantly flashing pink hat.

“Er, well it was nice to have been seeing you,” Ginny said to him with a glance at her husband. “Is Hermione here as well?”

Reality shook him fiercely. “What? Oh, yes, she’s in the tent.”

“She’s well I hope?” Harry said as he lifted his head up. His cheeks were brushed with a pale pink, but for some reason this made Severus feel not out-of-place, but very much in it. The feeling was still unusual.

“She’s doing fine. Expecting again, also.” It sort of slipped out before he could consciously think about that thought. Why in his right mind would he ever make conversation of that with the Potters?

Harry smiled reluctantly and Ginny exclaimed happily. “Oh, that’s fantastic! What’s the tent number, we have to stop in and congratulate her.”

Severus found himself struggling to remember the simple numbers, but his face all the while remained its cool nonchalant. Hermione joked with him that if he died, the rigor mortis would keep him wearing that indifferent face forever, at which point Severus would always smile – the truth of her words touching a nervous nerve.

“Row 14, tent 3,” he replied.

“Thank you!” Ginny said as she gave a small wave and started walking back up the rows. Without looking at Severus, Harry once more took his daughter’s hand in his and began following several steps behind his wife.

Severus wanted nothing more than to relax in the confines of his own tent, but of course now that would be much less pleasant. At the same time, however, a strange and foreign thing inside of him was urging him to follow the Potters. Ignoring it, he turned back around to the line they were still in, now intent on buying the candy they came out here for.

A shout over the crowd. Severus thought he recognized the word being said, but shrugged it off as some kids yelling to one another. It came louder, and finally it changed words to one much clearer.

“Severus!”

He turned around quickly, in time to see the head of Harry Potter bobbing over a group of people about 10 yards away and looking at him. Severus stared at him curiously, and didn’t even attempt to hide the question on his face. He saw Harry’s arm raise behind him extended, and then fall forward with speed.

Something glinting in the early morning light flew about the crowds towards him. With the dexterity of a Seeker, Severus reached up with one hand and grasped the object, pulling it out of the sky and into his view. A tiny bottle – a familiar and empty bottle – with a cork in its top was resting in his palm, the glass sparkling benevolently as if it knew the significance of the moment. Severus looked back up, but Harry’s head was already gone.

He tucked it into the pocket of his robe and turned back around, though not really seeing anything or anyone around him. Everything was relatively clear now, some of his last questions unfolding. One thing he still did not understand, though, was the kindness he was treated with by Ginny Weasley. Unless of course she also was let in on the mystery of the vial, but Severus knew in his heart that Harry would not have done that. Was it possible that kindness could be that simple – forgetting the past and the future and living each moment with the respect it’s due? How things have changed…how views have changed….

“Daddy?”

Severus had almost forgotten that he was standing with his daughter. He looked down at her and replied with a pensive, “Mmm?”

“Who were those people?”

“Those were the Potters. You’ve heard of Harry Potter. Remember when your mother talked to you about him?”

Her eyebrows scrunched together to remember, and she quickly did. “Oh yeah! Was Mum friends with him?”

Severus nodded. Cassia stood still for a moment, then turned her face up to his again. “Are you friends with him, too? It looked like it.”

This simple, child-like question stumbled him, and his answer came out before he realized what he was saying. “Yes, I am.” The realization of his statement kept him in silent thought until they reached the front of the line, at which Cassia asked for two chocolate frogs and a large pack of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

They stepped out of line for a moment, for she wanted to open her chocolate frogs. With a little difficulty, she snapped the top open and grabbed the frog before he could jump away, but she was staring at the card.

“Look Daddy! It’s Harry Potter!” she pointed excitedly to it. Severus leaned in to look, saw a picture perfect version of Harry with the scar quite clear, then withdrew his head. He did not need to read the description, for he knew what it would say: “Boy Who Lived…destroyer of Voldemort…hero of the wizarding world….” Cassia seemed not to understand his disinterest, so she opened the other card. Severus was not ready for the little shriek she exclaimed.

“What?” he asked sharply.

“It’s you! You’re on a Chocolate Frog card! You never told me you were chosen for one,” she trailed off as she looked at it. That’s because I didn’t know, he thought with a bit of excitement. Severus contained his extreme curiosity and waited until she had finished looking at it, and then took it in his own hands to examine what could possibly be written about him. Under his picture was his date of birth and this:

“Severus Tobias Snape is the current Defense Against the Dark Arts Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is known in society today for the role of spy he played in the war against Lord Voldemort, and more notably for his direct assistance to Harry Potter in the killing of this dark wizard. In the magical research community, he is marveled as one of the few people who can perform Ancient Legilimency, more commonly known as Love Legilimency. He is married to the equally famous Hermione Granger and has one daughter. He lives in Hogwarts Castle.”

Severus slowly handed the card back to Cassia, took her hand, and began to walk back up the row of tents. While surrounded with people, it now seemed he and Cassia were the only persons in sight. He had not known that a Chocolate Frog card could be made without consent of the person it was about, but it most obviously could be. Something deep inside of him grew very warm – not out of pride, but simply out of contentment.

Contentment is such a finicky thing. It does not wait for someone, nor is it easy to find; you must want to have it and strive to obtain it. This may take years for some people, and others never truly get hold of it. However, Severus Snape was sure that contentment sought him out, and he only just now let it completely take him over. True, when with Hermione he was the happiest imaginable, but happiness and contentment are two different things. When you are happy, that is your mood. Contentment lasts as long as you allow it, and ultimately ranks superior to happiness. Severus was content with his family, the world, and his life for the first time. Yes, yes, he had said that he was wholly at peace before, but one does not understand one’s feelings unless one has experienced them at their fullest.

All these things passed through Severus’s head with such speed that it didn’t even seem like he was thinking them. He leaned down and picked up his daughter, holding her and walking as he did when they left by Portkey, without realizing it. Together they went on in silence, the noise and people surrounding them nothing but shadows and tricks of the ear. This was how he liked it.

Severus looked up at the sky and noticed that the sun had raised higher, its dazzling colors illuminating the earth below it. Another dawn, another day, he thought. New strength it brings, to never fade away. He smiled and walked onward.

*T H E*E N D*


It's overrrr !!!!! Personally, I cannot believe it. This story has been quite a long ride (6 months I believe, and I was planning it before then), so therefore I must commend all of you who have stuck with it until the end. I am so grateful for your dedication to my feedback thread which, by the way, I can't wait to hear from you this time ! Click here if you would like to leave feedback. This chapter was both the easiest and hardest to write, if that's possible. I have been imagining this one since the very beginning, and I'm happy with it (I just hope you are, too ). Well...I think if I ramble on I'm likely to get writer's cramp, or er, typer's cramp. So I'll leave all other comments for the feedback thread. Once more, thank you all so much for reading! Until next time,

*Lex