Hi everyone. I missed writing about my favorite ship so upon inspiration from a question I posed to the SOSS crowd a while back this idea for a SS/HG story evolved. If you read, kindly leave feedback. Criticism as well as praise is welcome.
**Disclaimer**Main characters are the brilliant idea of JKR!
Aloha,
~Amanda


SECOND CHANCES

Introduction: DEATH CHEATED
Her hand was trembling as she reached out and brushed aside his greasy bangs from sticking to his forehead. Kneeling beside him, she knew she only had minutes to administer the antidote and it seemed like an eternity before Voldemort, then Harry had departed, leaving him at deaths door. All year she had secretly been developing anti-venom just in case Nagini, Voldemort’s loyal pet snake, bit Harry, Ron or herself. Never in her wildest imaginations did Hermione think she would be using it on her former Potions Master and mentor, Severus Snape.

“Hold on Severus,” she whispered through clenched teeth, determined he would not so much as hear the fear in her voice.

The anti-venom still lacked its final ingredient and with haste Hermione unceremoniously thrust Severus’ head to one side exposing the gruesome tear Nagini’s fangs had left in his neck. Scraping as much of the clear, poisonous liquid as she could into the vile, Hermione shook it vigorously, activating her potion.

A soft moan escaped Severus’ lips, “Lily.” His hand weakly lifted to Hermione’s thigh.
He’s delirious, I must hurry, she thought.

Choking back a sob and willing her hands steady, Hermione firmly grasped Severus’ face and tilted the vile into his lax mouth. She couldn’t bear to see him like this; so weak, so vulnerable, his eyes wildly unfocused. She had a small window of opportunity before her snake antidote took effect and Hermione did not plan on wasting this chance. If there was one thing that she had learned through this yearlong adventure searching for Horcruxes was that time is short. You never know when your life may end so it is prudent to take advantage of the opportunities life throws your way.

Hermione smiles as she sees the wound on Severus’ neck start to fizz with purple foam. The first step, cleansing was purifying the superficial cut. She doesn’t have much time before the potion begins to cleanse the brain and the rest of his vital organs of the deadly poison coursing through his body.

Leaning over him, Hermione places her moist, lips to Severus’ ear. She has secrets to confide in him.
“You are a strong, handsome, capable wizard. You have taught me more about potions then anyone could have ever done. Unbeknownst to you, you have also taught me more about life and love then any other person. You have my heart until you so choose to bestow it back to me.”

Her words were frantic and breathless as she silently prayed they penetrated deep into his psyche. When she finished speaking, a shining pink mist erupted from Hermione’s chest and evaporated in the palm of Severus’ upright hand.

Quickly rising, Hermione saw the color return to Severus’ cheeks and the clarity to his eyes.
“Granger…where’s Lily?” It was a question of confusion.

“Shh, no time to talk now,” commanded Hermione briskly. “Your strength will return momentarily. We need to get you out of here.”

“The battle…I must see him vanquished. He must know that I…all these years…” Severus struggling to sit upright, coughed violently. “You understand of course.”

Hermione nodded slowly and allowed Severus to wrap his arm around her shoulder for support. Together they rose and made for the fiery grounds of Hogwarts.

***

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To those of you who have read and asked for more...here is chapter two. Take heart, I did not abandon this fic, in fact, it seems to have taken a hold of me again so I hope you enjoy it.
~Amanda

CHAPTER 2-REVELATION

Hermione could hardly believe what was happening. Only moments ago Severus was lying motionless in a pool of his own blood ready to relinquish his life and his memories to Harry and this world and now his strides through the secret passage connecting the Shrieking Shack and the grounds at Hogwarts were that of a man possessed. She couldn’t have been more pleased with the results of her antidote. The color was returning rapidly to Severus’ pale face and the gnarly wound inflicted by Nagini to his neck barely showed a scar.

The most surprising effect of the potion was the amount of energy emitting from Severus’ sinewy frame. Hermione had to struggle to keep the sharp pace Severus kept. She had never seen such animation in Severus Snape before. His usual iron clad hands that lay stationary at his sides were swinging widely and he was mumbling quietly under his breath.
Hermione chanced a glance at her former Potions Master. His eyes were shooting dangerous black flames. His mouth was pulled into a tight line with the occasional slight movement of mumbling. Severus’ straight black hair was straggly hanging from his head, the blood drying swiftly in awkward clumps. Hermione sighed. She would give anything to shampoo his greasy locks and comb it through until it was soft and smooth.

“Granger,” hissed Severus abruptly interrupting Hermione’s brief vision. “Could you walk any heavier? If I didn’t know any better I would think you want us to be caught.”

“Caught? What do you mean?” Hermione stared incredulously at Severus, her mouth open in disbelief.

“Come now Granger,” said Severus as he rolled his eyes heavenward. “Can you not hear the excited whispers of the keepers of this tunnel? Obviously Death Eaters who assume their master is indestructible.”

It was on the tip of Hermione’s tongue to ask if Severus had some sort of plan for getting around his old comrades, when he roughly seized her by the scruff of her neck and ripped her wand unceremoniously from her hand. A small scream of terror escaped her lips drawing the attention of the jailer Death Eaters at the entrance to the tunnel.

“Out of my way idiots,” boomed Severus angrily as the two Death Eaters converged in a tight line in front of the entrance. “You wouldn’t want to be responsible for the Mudblood being late for her engagement with the Dark Lord would you?”

The tall Death Eater with the bright blond hair looked skeptically at Severus. “We weren’t aware that the Dark Lord had any special plans for this one. Wasn’t the werewolf supposed to have claim to her?”

“Fool!” Spat Severus, “As if the Dark Lord would ever allow that filthy mongrel near her when he could make such a magnificent example of her to the world.”

“But the Dark Lord said…”

“I don’t have time for this, move aside.” Severus’ voice was laced with impatience. “Isn’t it possible the Dark Lord would entrust this most valuable asset to his plan to his most loyal servant, me?”

Without waiting for a reply Severus shoved Hermione brutally past the two astonished Death Eaters and towards the entrance. Hermione glared at Severus, hot tears stinging her eyes.

“Give me my wand you ogre,” said Hermione through clenched teeth.

“Not until we are well away from the entrance. That would be best don’t you think, unless you would rather me hand you over to them now?”

“Look, everyone is gathered at the South entrance and…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as a massive, ominous figure emerged from the forest carrying someone clumsily in his arms.
A sob caught in Hermione’s throat as she stared disbelieving at Harry’s dead body, lifeless in Hagrid’s arms. Her legs froze and went numb making her virtually immobile. Severus groaned as he wrapped his arm around her waist to support her balance.

“Get a hold of yourself Granger,” whispered Severus frantically. “We must move post haste.”

But Hermione would not budge. Her eyes were glued to the dangling body of Harry Potter, her best friend and a wave of finality swept over her in a rush of emotion. Somewhere in her psyche Hermione could hear the annoyed croon of Severus, anxiously pleading with her to move but she could not force her legs to work properly.

In one simple gesture, Severus swept Hermione off her feet and into his arms. Stealthily he moved with the grace of a much younger man to a hill parallel to the Dark Lord but surrounded by trees. They would be safe here until he decided to reveal himself. Placing Hermione upon the wet grass, Severus peeks around one of the trees to assess the situation.

All around them Voldemort’s voice thundered in triumphant taunts. But something foul was among them. Every spell cast by the Dark Lord seemed to be ineffective. His silencing charms were weak and needed to be recast twice. That is very unlike the Dark Lord; to muddle the use of such an elementary spell was unheard of. Then, quite unexpectedly, the Longbottom boy charged forward with the valor of a medieval knight and removed the head from Nagini. Suddenly the screams from Voldemort drowned out any whimpering Hermione was making.

“Calm Granger,” said Severus smartly. “Potter is faking. Look, he has already risen and the Dark Lord looks as if he is strangling from rage.”

Hurriedly Hermione scrambles to her feet and joins Severus at the top of the hill. Relief fills her heart as she indeed sees Harry standing bold and brave ready to face Voldemort. They are speaking to one another but Hermione and Severus are too far away to hear though brief moments of uncertainty cross Voldemort’s face. The tension is thick and Hermione can barely breathe. She is about to inquire of Severus’ plan to reveal himself Voldemort when suddenly she feels herself being tugged toward him. Roughly he grabs her around the waist and holds her to his side.

“See me,” mutters Snape viciously under his breath.

At that moment, Voldemort tears his eyes away from Harry for the slightest of seconds and locks them with Severus. Hermione is jolted by a raging anger that is absorbing through her skin from Severus. She realizes that Voldemort is livid to see Severus alive and in such close proximity to well, a Mudblood.

Returning his gaze to Harry, Voldemort smiles wickedly. It is over in a matter of seconds. The vivid green from his killing curse collides with the bright white of Harry’s disarming spell. With a quick ricochet, Voldemort is vanquished.

Hermione is about to let her guard down when a jet of blood red zooms past her head. Spinning quickly Hermione doesn’t have time to react. She is hit with a ferocious pair of stunners. She is flung backwards and hits the back of her head on a large tree stump. As she is airborne, the last thing she sees are two jets of green and the billowing cloak of Severus Snape as he abandons her in the forest.
XX

Forgive my absence guys-life you know. But if you feel kind, leave feedback please

CHAPTER 3-THE AFTERMATH

Severus Snape stood secluded behind what was left of Hagrid’s hut. Among the smoldering ruins of the run down shack, Severus willed his heart to normal rhythm. He had no idea what just happened or why his chest felt like someone sucked all the air from it but when those two imbeciles shot their stunning spells and Granger went down, all he could think about was making them pay for their stupidity.

It didn’t take him long to pursue them and finish them the way he should have done when they first encountered them at the entrance to the secret passage. Having Miss Granger around at that moment was indeed unfortunate. He knew she would never approve of medieval methods of execution but seeing as he wasn’t about to split his soul anymore, chaining those two morons to a tree in the Forbidden Forest dripping in blood was sure to seal their fate.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Severus rubbed the dull ache in his chest. Only moments ago, as he returned to check on Granger, did he feel the burning and rapid acceleration of his heart. Weasley and Potter were at her side wiping the blood from her forehead where a stray branch must have caught her during some point in the battle. Habitually Severus would have strode out to that despicable trio of rule breakers and relished in tormenting them before hauling them back to the castle for some sort of expulsion charge however today was different.

Everything within Severus screamed to do just that: downplay Potter’s heroics and chastise Weasley and Granger for their senseless decision to forego their last year of education. Then it was there; the tiny pin prickling sensation nagging at his chest. It was accompanied by a soft, melodious voice. Once and only once has Severus ever heard such a beautiful sound and he had not heard it in 17 years. The sound was quickly replaced by an annoying buzz in his head. Weasley looked like he was an adolescent octopus, his long arms enveloping and smothering Granger. Fool! Doesn't he have an ounce of perception in that mediocre Weasley brain of his to see that Granger is uncomfortable with his possessive actions?

Unable to account for his state of confusion, he cowered helplessly as Weasley and Potter do what he as Headmaster should be doing; taking charge of his students. But as he watched through narrowed eyes as Weasley wrapped his arm around her shoulders, Severus realized that none of them were students anymore and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was standing behind this mangled hut.
XX
Hermione finally gained her feet with help from Ron Weasley. She put on her most grateful smile and allowed Ron to slip his arm around her shoulders protectively but inside she was fuming.

He left me. He is a foul, unappreciative, greasy git. I saved his miserable life from a torturous death and as thanks I get abandoned on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione nodded at something Ron said. He seemed so animated and knew she would regret not paying attention but she couldn’t get over how upset she was that Severus Snape vanished, leaving her rigid and in no position to defend herself. Thank goodness Ron saw jets of red in the general direction of the forest and came to investigate or else she may still be stunned, slightly wounded and alone in the dark foreboding forest.

Ron. Hermione leaned her head against his broad shoulder and sighed. He has made strides towards being attentive this year and it’s not that she doesn’t appreciate how hard he has had to work to be the man that Hermione always knew he could be. It’s just that something changed her during this quest to discover Horcruxes. A year ago she would have done anything to make sure that she and Ron were a couple but now the feel of his arm draped casually around her shoulders felt heavy, like a burden she created but couldn’t get rid of.

And then there was Severus.

“Mione, are you sure you’re alright?” Ron’s eyebrows furrowed in concern as he stared deeply into her face.

“Uh yeah, I’m just really tired.” Just then Hermione noticed they were headed back up toward the castle. “Uh, where are we going Ron?”

“Kingsley wants every student involved in the battle to meet in the Great Hall for accounting.”

Nodding slightly Hermione allowed herself to be led stoically up the grounds towards the Great Hall and all those people. Hermione couldn’t even think about facing all those people and seeing all those bodies.

Severus should be among those bodies but thanks to her, he was probably drunk somewhere on Firewhiskey.

The Great Hall was bustling with life and yet it was surrounded by death on all sides. The casualties were moved inconspicuously to the far corner of the room to await final identification. House elves scurried about tending to the wounded and Ministry officials were being interviewed by Kingsley Shackelbolt and Minerva McGonagall to ensure they were free from any other influence. Arthur and Molly Weasley were huddled on one of the house benches sobbing into one another. Circling them were Bill and Fleur and Ginny, all red eyed and crying.

Hermione didn’t want to be here. All she wanted to do was check in with Kingsley, take a hot bath and have a calming cup of chamomile tea.

“Nice to see you Miss Granger,” said Shackelbolt softly. “You must be exhausted.”

“Minister,” started Harry cautiously, “there is one body that isn’t among the deceased; Severus Snape.”

At the mention of Severus’ name Hermione instantly perked up. She listened with rapt attention as Harry informed Kingsley of the whereabouts of Severus Snape’s body and the events that transpired moments before his death.

“Excuse me Harry, Minister, that information is not entirely correct.” Suddenly Hermione was very aware that all eyes were on her. Harry’s piercing green eyes were incredulous. Hermione knew an explanation was forthcoming.

“Well, I sort of figured that a bit from Nagini was probable when we were trying to find Voldemort’s horcruxes so I developed an antidote. I had no idea that the victim would be Snape. I thought it would be one of us.”

“Miss Granger, where did Severus Snape go after you saved his life?” McGonagall asked sharply.

“Err, well I helped him out of the Shrieking Shack and we saw Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at Harry.” Hermione paused, looking up at the stunned expression of Harry and Ron then continued. “Then a couple of Death Eaters stunned me and suddenly…he was gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean he’s gone?” Ron’s face was as red as his hair. His fists were clenched at his sides and he appeared to be choking. “He left you like that, stunned and helpless? What a dung beetle.”

“He’s GONE! I couldn’t possibly tell you where or why or anything and I would appreciate it if you would quite harassing me about it!”

Instantly apologetic, Ron engulfed Hermione into a fierce, almost possessive embrace. With her forehead leaning tiredly against his shoulder, Hermione listened as the Minister organized a massive man-hunt for Severus Snape with Harry leading the charge.
Outrage flooded her senses yet in her fatigue Hermione knew she would be useless to change anything or convince anyone to leave Severus Snape be.

Untangling herself from Ron’s gangly arms, Hermione quietly left the Great Hall in search of some solitude.
XX

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~Amanda

Chapter 4
Empty Darkness

Hermione sighed and sunk deeper into the cushy armchair in her living room. Crookshanks purred and shimmied lovingly around her ankles. The soft crackle of the fireplace sung a melancholy tune and did little to warm her shivering body. So often when she would wake from another terrifying nightmare, Hermione would find herself in this very position more scared then she has ever felt in her entire life. The black bottomless pit, the frigid temperature surrounding her, freezing her breath and strangling her airways, the same empty void spreading from the middle of her chest throughout the rest of her body and finally that evil mirthless laugh engulfing her until she woke with such a jolt, she often didn’t know where she was for a few moments.

Six months had passed since the downfall of Voldemort and life in the wizarding world was slowly returning to normal. Stretching out her legs towards the warming flames, Hermione was glad that at least her N.E.W.T.S. was now complete. The only problem was there were no longer any late night library visits or jammed packed study sessions to occupy her thoughts and her former Potions Master now infiltrated them mercilessly.

Restless, Hermione shot to her feet and made her way into her kitchen. A pot of tea was just the thing to calm her and she set about heating the water in a very muggle fashion.
Severus. What was he doing now? Where in Merlin’s great white beard was he hiding? The Ministry was having as much luck finding him as they did Sirius when he was alive and now Rita Skeeter was bashing the effectiveness of Kingsley Shackelbolt as Minister of Magic comparing him to Cornelius Fudge. Hermione snorted as the tea kettle began to whistle. Inside information from Ginny told her that Harry was also having a difficult time of locating Severus. As Hermione stirred some cream into her tea she recalled the blow out that had Harry not speaking to her and Ron seeing her secretly as not to upset him.

“Why don’t you just leave him be,” shot Hermione hotly! It wasn’t a question but a fierce statement.

“Why are you protecting him? Why did you even save him?” Harry ran his fingers through his untidy hair as he said this. Hermione knew he was frustrated. For some reason he wanted to be the one to capture Snape and he wouldn’t confide his reasons why to anyone. Because of this, Hermione had flat out refused to answer why she helped Severus that fateful night when Voldemort died.

“Fine, if you won’t give me any answers, I will continue to hunt him down without your help.”

It was the last time Hermione had spoken to Harry in almost three months. Ron had been over to visit of course but he always made some excuse to Harry as to his whereabouts. Ron never was one to rock the boat so to speak and his friendship with Harry was one of those things that teetered on precarious. After several failed attempts to reunite his two friends, Ron seemed resigned to love Hermione in secret and publicly back Harry’s manhunt for Severus.

Hermione took a sip of her tea and returned to her chair by the fire. She coughed deeply, the pain rattling her chest. She couldn’t seem to shake this cold and nothing she tried muggle or magical lessened any of her symptoms. Hermione knew she was never athletic but she had never before had trouble walking uphill or for long distances. Lately though she became winded quite easily when performing the simplest of tasks. Then this bloody cough; it started out normal enough, like a nuisance to an irritating flu or something but it persistently got worse as the weeks went by. Bringing a tissue to her mouth, Hermione coughed violently until she thought she would choke. When she removed the tissue, several pink spots stained the paper. It wasn’t blood, Hermione was sure of that but its origin confounded her. She was weak and tired with no real explanation as to why.

Ron had commented on her appearance the last time he visited. Not wanting to be rude of course, he simply mentioned that the strain of the final battle and the pressures of studying for her examinations combined with the stress of her fallout with Harry may be too much for her to handle and perhaps she should make an appointment as St. Mungo’s.

Hermione took another sip of her tea. Ron’s face was priceless as she firmly told him to mind his own business. Okay so firmly isn’t the right word, ferociously is more like it. Hermione thought Ron was rather likely to start begging for forgiveness at any moment. She didn’t feel like reassuring him yet again so she quickly changed her tone and softened her eyes. But now, perhaps a check up at St. Mungo’s was exactly what she needed. There was one avenue left unexplored to her and though it remained a long shot that he would even reply, Hermione summoned a quill and parchment to form her letter.



Would he reply? Would he risk his freedom to help the know-it-all Mudblood whom he loathed? Probably not, thought Hermione grimly as she sealed the parchment and inscribed his name to the front. Her owl, Einstein instinctively flew over and allowed Hermione to attach the letter to his leg. With a soft hoot, he was off through her window. Hermione followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight and her vision was impaired by darkness.

Darkness was the new companion in her life and one that was unwelcome. She had not had the pleasure of its company since her first lonely year at Hogwarts when she was friendless. He engulfed her, drowning her in misery and kept her constantly searching for something new to study in isolation.

Returning to her room, Hermione climbed into bed once more. Crookshanks had followed her into her room and hopped hopefully upon her bed. Shaking her head, Hermione stroked her cat's messy fur and tucked her legs into the sheets. The crisp cotton was cold and did not warm her already freezing body. Hermione knew the dream would return but let the exhaustion overtake her into the place where dreams overlapped reality.
***
Okay guys, here you go...the new chapter. Please please leave your feedback HERE
Thanks for reading,
nevillesgirl

CHAPTER 5
WHERE IS SEVERUS SNAPE?

Hermione choked back a biting reply and took a deep, cleansing breath. The clatter from the kitchen did little to reassure her that Ron was going to feed her sometime this century let alone this evening. She crossed her ankles in front of her and tried to concentrate on the latest issue of the Quibbler Ron had brought her. He forcibly told her to plant her ‘beautiful bottom’ on the sofa and let him pamper her but the racket coming from behind the kitchen door gave Hermione the impression that another war had started in there.

She was just about to give in to the feeling of helplessness when a startled scream had Hermione scrambling toward the kitchen. When she pushed open the door it looked like a fresh snow had fallen over her countertops. Ron was huddling in a corner gasping for air and clutching his chest, the measuring cup dangling from his limp fingers. Everything was covered in flour.

“What in the world happened in here?” asked Hermione as she began siphoning flour with her wand.

“Web…sp-spider web,” choked Ron lamely.

“Goodness Ronald,” said Hermione sarcastically. “You faced greater dangers battling the Death Eaters.” She nodded toward the broken web hanging in the corner of her pantry cupboard.

“It surprised me is all,” said Ron indignantly as he rushed forward with a broom to knock the web out of the cupboard. “I expected you to be as obsessed with cleanliness as you are with studying,” he continued quietly.

“Oh, I’m sorry Ron,” shot Hermione, a heated blush creeping to her cheeks. “I suppose it doesn’t matter that I have been ill this past week and my household chores have suffered because of it.”

Ron, instantly apologetic, dropped the broom and rushed over to Hermione. His strong arms engulfed her frail framed gently as he held her close. Hermione let herself be held partly to stop the argument but mostly because she knew she hadn’t the strength to pull away.
After a few moments Hermione put a week hand upon Ron’s chest. He released her and they both tackled the task of cleaning the kitchen. It was much easier with both of them using magic and before they knew it, they were settled in front of the television watching one of Hermione’s favorite muggle shows eating pizza and chicken wings that had been delivered by the local pizzeria.

Hermione savored the taste. She hadn’t been able to keep a single thing down this past week and she felt famished. After three slices of pepperoni and half dozen wings, Hermione leaned back into the sofa, content. She remembered to wash it all down with the tonic the Healer at St. Mungo’s had given her.

Hermione scrunched her face in disappointment as she remembered her appointment at the wizarding hospital last week. Georgio was the specialist assigned to her case and claimed to have been treating mysterious illnesses for over a decade and yet the origins of this sickness eluded him. Hermione licked her lips tasting the pleasant orange flavor of her medicine. It seemed to be helping if only slightly. She could keep food down and get out of bed but the pain in her chest and her weight loss continued.

Suddenly the television lost signal. Ron sighed and Hermione knew what he was thinking. It was probably something along the lines of stupid muggle contraption. Then clearly the words DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL REPORT flashed upon the screen and Hermione knew it was a wizarding emergency. The Daily Prophet had syndicated to all wizarding households as a way of broadcasting in times of emergency. Ron leaned forward expectantly, his hands folded in his lap.

“Broadcasting live from the tiny island of Jamaica, Harry Potter, without his team of Aurors has located the lair of former Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape.”

Hermione slumped forward gasping for breath, her head between her knees. Her mind was spinning and the dizzying sensations were sending fresh waves of nausea threatening to explode from her.

“Git, going off alone like that,” muttered Ron. The annoyance in his voice was unmistakable.

“According to Potter, who declined an on camera interview, claims the hideout had been abandoned about a week ago. Acting on a hunch, Potter followed an owl he intercepted that contained a strange message. Although he lost the owl in a storm, Potter’s venture led him her to the sunny island of Jamaica. A quote from Harry Potter claims this is a ‘most unusual place for a man like Severus Snape to hide: to bright and cheerful.’ Potter would not comment on the success of his investigation except to say he was going to start back at the beginning.”

“Lucky Snape wasn’t there. Could’ve killed him you know.”

With those words Ron stood and placed a comforting hand upon Hermione’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I know you aren’t feeling well and I promised to care for you this evening but I really must head into the office.”

Nodding slightly Hermione inclined her cheek as Ron kissed her goodbye. When Ron had left, Hermione cleared the living room and fixed her another tonic.

He got away! What was he doing in Jamaica? Did he get my letter before Harry showed up? Hermione felt strangely smug. Severus was cleverer then Harry. He was a more advanced wizard. He would continue to elude capture.
As Hermione thought about Severus, the pain in her chest intensified. She didn’t know that the daydream of his face, his voice would hurt so much.

A knock at the front door had Hermione rolling her eyes. Ron must have forgotten something.

“What did you forget Ron?” she asked as she swung the door open wide.

Her tonic fell to the floor, shattering the glass around her feet and soaking into her periwinkle socks with orange liquid. Eyes haughty and angry stared back at her: Familiar eyes that she has grown to love, intense and penetrating.

“We must talk.”

He grasped her elbow and led her back inside the house, bolting the door behind them.

***

As always, I thank you for your faithfulness in keeping current with this story. Please leave yourfeedback here

Thanks,
nevillesgirl

CHAPTER 6
BOREDOM AND BOOKS

They had argued. It was unlike any argument Hermione had ever had before. This one was passionate. Both sides were convinced they were right. Both sides were unwilling to give an inch. Both sides claimed to fight to the death. Hermione felt like death itself. Through the pain, through the nausea, she fought the weakness that threatened to overcome her. How she wished she could give in. How she wished she could succumb to the anguish that ate away at her bones and took her breath away. He was ruthless. She never truly believed that he could ever be as callous as he showed her tonight. His eyes flashed in accusation though he barely said a word. He tried to perform Legilimency and was surprised when she had learned enough Occlumency to block his attempt. His temper flared when she would not cooperate.

“After everything he has put us through why do you think he deserves your protection?”
His words were razor sharp and they stung. Hermione winced in remembrance. As she paced her bedroom floor the heat crawled up to her cheeks and her anger flared once more.

“Will you continue to put a wedge in our friendship for such a secret?”

Harry’s accusatory tone had cut her like a knife. She had known that he would play the loyalty card. She had known that the hurt in his emerald green eyes was something that she was going to see and yet it made it no less painful to stand her ground.

“Think about it Harry, do you actually think he will come here?”

“No, I think you will try to find him and if I am right about that I will be ready to have you followed if that is a decision you deem necessary.”

Shutting her eyes tight to the memory of her squared jaw and clenched fists, she struggled to forget his terms; House Arrest. Essentially she was a prisoner in her own home. A team of Aurors were standing guard around her apartment. Ron had eagerly volunteered for every nightshift available but mercifully Harry had declined his offer saying it was a conflict of interest. Instead Ron was posted beneath the street lamp just outside of her bedroom window. Despite her rotten mood, Hermione had to chuckle as she saw him disguised as a bum in tattered rags pretending to sleep on the old wooden bench.

Opening her eyes slowly and after a few deep, shallow breaths, Hermione slowly sunk onto her bed. Somehow Harry had known there was a secret which she was keeping and it had everything to do with Severus Snape. The only secret that was remotely relevant was that she had tried to contact her former Potions Master to no avail and in that one act Harry, her most trusted friend, now viewed her as a traitor. Grabbing a tissue from her nightstand Hermione blew her nose then gasped. There was no way that Harry could have guessed her moment of foolishness all those months ago when she had poured her heart out to Severus over his dying body.

Hermione shook her head at the cloudiness that always overtook her mind when she was thinking about Severus. When she had done that most impulsive act, she had thought the intimate confession while he was still unconscious would have eased her mind, her soul and her spirit but ever since that night she has felt as if a heavy burden has rested painfully in her chest. That night was also the first night of her sickness: a sickness that had steadily worsened over the past few months stealing sleep and security from her precious life.

The phone rang loudly causing her to jump. Hermione nearly tripped down the wooden staircase as she dashed over to the caller-ID box. Stifling a groan, Hermione picked up the receiver.

“Hi Mom, how are you?”

“Yes, I’m feeling much better.”

“Yes, I’ve seen Ron…no, I’m not seeing him tonight.”

“Don’t worry Mom, I’ll be fine. Harry is just trying to do his job.”

“I love you too, bye.”

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione made her way into her kitchen. It was time for her to brew more tonics. It seemed a bit useless to keep taking the stuff since it didn’t really seem to be helping much, but to appease Ron, she kept up with her treatment. As she reached overhead toward the cabinet where she kept her tonic a small scream escaped her lips. Hadn’t Ron cleared that cobweb away last night? Shaking her head again, Hermione reached for her wand.

“Scourgify ,” she stated firmly and the web disappeared.

She supposed it made sense, seeing as she hadn’t exactly killed a spider yet. At some point it would have to show itself and when it does, she would get rid of it. Can’t have anything that is going to give Ron a coronary, Hermione thought ruefully.

As she walked back to the living room sipping her tonic, Hermione wondered what she would do to occupy her time. Sinking sullenly onto her sofa, she picked up the remote control and began absentmindedly to flip through the channels searching for anything interesting to entertain her thoughts.

Suddenly, as she was going through the list of channels for the third time, there was a frantic knocking at the front door. Pushing herself up reluctantly, Hermione trudged over and swung open the heavy door coming face to face with Ron Weasley. His face was flushed with perspiration and an awful blotchy pink color that emphasized his flaming red hair. He roughly pushed her aside and pinned her up against the wall, his eyes glaring hotly at her.

“Ouch Ron, what do you think you are doing?”

“Where is he,” asked Ron sharply.

“What are you talking about? There is no one here but me,” said Hermione with confusion.

“A man-in your bedroom; I saw his shadow across the window.”
Ron’s fingernails dug deeply into the uppers of her arms and the pressure of his hands upon her intensified. He must be tired, thought Hermione sadly. Sleep deprivation must be the cause of this outrageous hallucination.

“Are you tired Ron,” asked Hermione, her voice dripping with concern? “You know there is no one here. Harry has put so many Aurors as guards around the apartment, I will be lucky to get any visitors besides you, of course.”

“Humph,” snorted Ron as he grabbed Hermione by the wrist and began dragging her towards the bedroom. “Let’s see shall we?”

He flung open her door and shoved her inside. Hermione sighed and sunk cross-legged upon her bed as Ron violently turned her bedroom into a disaster zone. After a few minutes of watching the contents from under her bed being scattered haphazardly across the floor and her clothes from the closet being tossed unceremoniously around the room she had seen enough.
“STOP IT NOW RONALD WEASLEY OR YOU WILL NEVER BE ALLOWED INTO THIS HOUSE AGAIN!”

The sound of Hermione’s angry voice halted Ron midstream of tossing her favorite light blue robes to the floor. He looked around sheepishly at the chaos he had created and mumbled something that sounded like an apology. For the next half hour he worked silently with Hermione to restore order and cleanliness to her bedroom. When they were about finished, Ron gasped suddenly from the far corner of the room. He was bent over the large mahogany desks, one hand grasping a bright yellow raincoat and the other resting cautiously on a book. Hermione walked up behind him and peered around his broad shoulder. A book titled Exploratory Love Spells for the Daring lay under his fingertips.

“What do you need this for,” Ron inquired slowly. “You know how I feel about you.”

Hermione was stunned. This wasn’t her book. Love spells, in her opinion, were frivolous and foolhardy. They almost always got the caster into more trouble than they intended. She wasn’t about to admit that to Ron though. She knew the panic that would stir if he actually thought someone else had been leaving suggestive books in the intimate setting of her bedroom.

“Uh, well…I thought that since I am stuck here indefinitely, I should perhaps broaden my knowledge on the concept of love.” Hermione cleared her throat loudly. “After all, it was the powerful ancient magic of love that protected Harry from Voldemort and that isn’t something we actually learned at Hogwarts is it?”

Ron seemed to accept this explanation. He reluctantly checked his watch and sighed. “Time to check in with Harry; don’t worry, I won’t mention this little diversion to him. I wouldn’t want him to get hysterical or anything.”

Hermione walked Ron to the door and planted a soft kiss upon his cheek. When he had rounded the corner to the stairs she closed her door and sprinted back to her bedroom. She just had to examine this book more closely.
I wonder where it came from, she thought curiously.

***
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CHAPTER 7
INTRUDER

Hermione inhaled deeply the cleansing smell of sage as the herb burned continuously in her bathroom. She loved her bathroom. It had the feel of a tranquil spa but not the expense of it. The small picture window was painted a fresh white and sported a crisp ivory curtain with bamboo print. It let in enough light to make the bathroom cheerful but not too much to be overbearing.

Hermione placed the almost burnt herb in a silver incense burner on the marble basin and inhaled again, turning toward her tub.

Her tub was the glory of the room. It stood freestanding in the middle of the bathroom on a raised, marble platform surrounded on every side by stairs. If she wanted privacy, a curtain hung casually from a single hook directly above the tub. When drawn, it circled the white porcelain tub like a mosquito net, engulfing the entire platform. She would rather bathe than shower most days of the week but lately the effort it took to sink and rise from the tub was strenuous, so Hermione had resigned herself to one bath a week.

Today was a good day; not great but better than most as her breathing was not so labored this evening. She wanted nothing more than to light her eucalyptus candles and settle into the warm water with this mysterious book of Love Spells that miraculously appeared in her bedroom.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she tugged her brown, bushy hair sharply through a rubber band. Whenever she thought of Love Spells she was reminded of the dim-witted Romilda Vane and her brazen attempt to force Harry to ask her to Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party back in their sixth year of Hogwarts. Love Spell’s were for cowards who didn’t have the self esteem to practically go after the one they wanted. In Hermione’s view they were the deepest sense of trickery a witch or wizard could use and those who did surly had no sense of self worth or conscience to speak of.

Hermione bent over to light her eucalyptus candles and let the belt of her terry cloth pink robe fall loosely open. The steam hit her chest and soothed the ache that was a constant pain there now. She lightly touched the warm water with her fingertips and gazed into tub. The rippling water seemed to tell a story. It swam with vivid colors of reds and pinks, followed by two pale holes that contaminated the color in the water, turning it gray. An evil hissing filled the bathroom and despite the chill, Hermione could not cover herself or tear her eyes from the tub. The grayness turned to black and tore down the middle, leaving jagged cuts in the water. Hermione’s eyes widened in horror as one half of the blackness took the form of herself and the other, Severus.

The next thing she knew, she was drenched from head to toe having fallen completely into the tub. Water from her splash had doused the candles and puddled over the stairs and floor. Sputtering incoherently, Hermione peeled off her wet robe and tossed it to the already sodden floor. How odd that the entire floor should be soaked except for a small circle at the base of the stairs of the tub. Perhaps that is where I was standing, thought Hermione, but then she realized that was impossible as she remembered leaning over and looking into the tub while standing upon the second stairs.

Suddenly a frantic fluttering engulfed the bathroom as Pigwigeon flew in threw the open window. It took Hermione a minute to calm him down enough to untie the message.



Before she had finished pulling on an old pair of jeans and polo shirt, there was a banging on her front door. She barely got the door open when Ron, Harry and two other Aurors barged into her apartment.

“What do you think you are doing?” Shouted Hermione angrily as she slammed the door shut and turned towards the men.

“Were you in the bathroom just now?” Ron asked. He was almost frightened and it unnerved her somehow.

“Of course I was in the bathroom Ronald. I was just about to take a bath when your hyperactive owl interrupted me.”

Hermione turned to Harry who was standing in the middle of the living room and spinning in a slow, calculated circle. “Harry, what exactly is going on here?”

Harry looked at Hermione and raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak. Instead he motioned to the other two Aurors who marched quickly into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it from within.

“Will someone please inform me what is going on and why those two blokes are barricaded in my bathroom?” Hermione had drawn her wand out and pointed it directly at Harry’s chest. He stared at her unblinking and Hermione knew that he was figuring out if she meant business or if he could trust Ron to back him or not.

“You just don’t know about Ron, do you Harry? I mean, I am his girlfriend. Do you really want to chance it?”

Behind her Ron stifled a groan. Hermione knew he was in a difficult position, Harry being his best mate and boss and she being his girl but now was the time to check his loyalties.

“You may get me Harry, but not before I get you. Ron is a little slow on his reaction time and let’s face it, he does have a difficult time even practicing spells on me.” She winked conspicuously at Harry.

Hermione let the smugness settle over Harry. He remained cold, unflinching, then looked over at Ron who had finally drawn his wand and was pointing it at Hermione’s back.

“Explain it to her, Ron.”

“But Harry…”

“I refuse to speak with her until she is ready to cooperate with my investigation.”

“Harry,” Hermione started to speak but Harry had already moved toward the front door. She sighed as he slammed the door behind him.

“Were you really going to shoot me in the back Ronald,” Hermione asked good-naturedly as she turned and found Ron still pointing his wand at her.

With a sheepish grin, he stowed his wand and motioned for her to have a seat on the couch. “I feel a little awkward about having to ask you this ‘Mione, especially since the last time I was so incredibly in the wrong but were you alone in your apartment tonight?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron and prepared to soundly inform him of her answer, when he rushed on.

“A man, I saw a man in your bathroom window. It was only for a second and I didn’t want to jump to conclusions so I contacted a couple of other Aurors who are watching your apartment. They both claim to have seen a shadow float across your bedroom window a split second before I thought I saw a silhouette in your bathroom.”

Hermione looked at him with shock upon her face as she registered how confused and frightened Ron was. Her answer came out in a barely audible whisper. “I was alone.”

Suddenly the two men burst forth from the bathroom, both looking triumphant. One was holding a shoulder-length strand of black hair. It glinted in the lamp light and Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Inform Harry. We need to get Miss Granger out of here at once!”

***
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CHAPTER 8
Snape Senses

Severus Snape reached skyward and relished in the stretch that flowed through his muscles. Bending his head to the right, he felt a large crack pop in his neck. It felt so good to stretch out and be in human form. He had spent the better part of a fortnight in animagus form and while Severus understood the necessity of lurking around as a little black spider, the feeling of being cramped put a strain on his joints and pain in his muscles.

Shuffling his feet against the dusty floor, Severus contemplated his situation. It was most unfortunate at the way events were unfolding. His most pressing issue at the moment was Harry Potter. It seems that now Potter has a bit of power and the strength of the Ministry backing him, he has become as obsessive and insolent as ever. This ruthless pursuit despite the knowledge Severus gave him in his memories seems a moot point; Harry Potter was hell bent on tracking him down.

Jamaica was the perfect hideout. Severus smirked as he thought of the contrast; the islands warm and sunny disposition and his own, well, frosty personality. It was the logical choice as far as he was concerned; halfway around the world and far away from the desolation that Voldemort had left in his wake. Severus picked up an old copy of The Daily Prophet and shook his head. England was in shambles. Kingsley Shackelbolt had never been one of his bosom buddies but Severus had to admit, he was the perfect choice for the Minister of Magic. He had excellent organizational skills and the ability to see every option, which was only going to be an asset when he started rebuilding the country. Severus tossed the frayed paper aside and ran his hands through his greasy, black hair. He had been prepared to settle into the island way of living until that blasted letter showed up.

Hermione Granger. Her ridiculous letter and idle sickness had been none of his business nor did he care for her problem a trifle, until the strange symptoms started affecting him as well. His sleepless nights were an annoying problem he had dealt with for years but his dreams were now being infected with happy, fluffy dreams of Granger. Thoughts of her soft, curly brown hair suffocating his face and the light fragrance of rose petal and jasmine filled his nostrils. Impatient with this irrepressible thought process, Severus stalked across the room to the cracked, filthy window and attempted to peer outdoors. A thick film of dirt caked the glass making that impossible but it didn’t matter. Severus now knew that where ever Granger was, he would be also.

Last night confirmed the sinking feeling that had been building in his chest for months. Somehow, he was bound irrevocably to Hermione Granger and for the life of him, he could not figure out how or why that had happened. It was pure luck the first time he was transported into the vicinity of Miss Granger. He was still in Jamaica and prowling the streets in animagus form. He had just received her idiotically assuming letter and had needed to clear his head. He barely got out of his apartment and down the street when suddenly he was soaring through the air. The wind had been harsh through his thin eight legs and though he was a million miles from London, the trip seemed like it took no time at all. The cozy atmosphere confused him at first and then he heard her voice. He was in Granger’s apartment. At once he tried to leave. Disapparition proved to be futile; he thought there had been some sort of Anti-Disapparition charm on her apartment. Next he tried simply to crawl out a window or crack but an invisible barrier always prevented this. Knowing that he must remain in animagus form, Severus had set up a web in the kitchen cupboard. Surprise is not even an accurate word for the emotion Severus had felt during his next transport.

Granger had been home, sulking in her bedroom after her argument with Potter and the Weasley boy. Severus had taken that opportunity to change into human form. He needed to stretch out and he had wanted to conjure a book from his personal bookshelf at Spinner’s End. He had a theory and though he never put much weight in Love Spells, he wanted to do some research. Granger had been thinking about him. Her thoughts boomed in his mind, making him dizzy when suddenly, book in-hand, he was floating through the ceiling towards Granger’s bedroom. It had taken every ounce of magical ability Severus had to transform mid-air. He had never attempted such a disciplined feat and only just managed it as he rocketed over her desk. Luckily, the book dropped to the desktop at the exact moment Weasley banged on the door, disguising the ruckus.

Last night’s fiasco was the final straw. Severus had been content, just about to transform into his animagus and nestle in the comforts of his rebuilt cupboard web when he received the shock of his life, and that was saying something. He was thrust from the kitchen and propelled to the bathroom where Granger was leaning over her bathtub. She was a vision and so un-childlike. The ambiance in the bathroom was hypnotic. The combination of colors and the vivid pictures swimming on the surface of the tub water made Severus heady and woozy. The moment his face appeared on the water opposite Granger’s he transformed out of animagus form into a human. He was standing directly behind her and the ache in his chest magnified ferociously, he thought the urge to reach out and grab her would take him beyond reason. Luckily Granger fell clumsily into the tub dumping water over the entire surface of the bathroom, giving him a chance to transform and scuttle out of sight.

Now he was here, in this musky old attic, somewhere in Somerset. Severus knew they were in a safe house and that there were Aurors guarding every possible entrance. When Harry had been there earlier, Severus heard him whispering to Ron that under no circumstances should Granger be left unattended. She was their only lead to capturing him. Harry also mentioned something about Spinner’s End and it being ransacked. Was someone else searching for him? Fortunately for Severus, they, and whoever else was looking for him, had no clue to how close they actually were to capturing him. Unfortunately for Severus, Granger had no clue how close he was or why he was bound to her as such and until she figured it out, he was at her mercy.

It was strange. The more Severus tried to push thoughts of Granger away; the harder he tried to remember her annoying little habits and whining voice, the bolder the color in his Dark Mark burned. He noticed when he had embraced her delicate features and womanly ways even for a moment, the blackness in his mark faded. It was a confounding occurrence in his life and until he figured it out, he would have to deal with the painful reminder of his dark past.

Severus took a deep breath and gasped at the dull ache that labored his breathing. Scowling in contempt, he swished his long black robes around his ankles and stalked toward the middle of the attic. It was a maze of old, moth-eaten sheets covering dank and rotting furniture. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a secluded spot for his web; not that Severus expected any visitors in this part of the cottage but the way things have been going lately with being transported here and there, he wanted to be prepared for every option.

Concentrating hard on his goal, Severus thought of darkness, stealth and cunning. He focused on condensing his large, sinewy frame into a small, compact skeleton. He was deliberate and shrunk himself down into the familiar black spider he had grown so accustomed too. It took him about 15 minutes before he found the perfect location. Underneath a large armoire provided the ultimate cover and the sturdy oak wood, the safety Severus would need to remain concealed.

No sooner had he finished, the old attic door creaked open and tiny footsteps walked tentatively across the dusty floor. Severus scuttled cautiously to the tiny opening and peered out. Granger had invaded his hideout.
*****

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CHAPTER 9
Subtle Discoveries

A small scream escaped her lips as Hermione yanked her brush through her unruly brown hair. In frustration she hurled the brush across the living room and just tied up her hair in a messy ponytail. She hated this! Everything about this situation aggravated her; this house and all its unfamiliarity, her isolation and this nagging sickness disrupted her entire life and for what? Severus Snape.

It wasn’t that Harry and his team of Aurors hadn’t made her surroundings comfortable. The seaside retreat décor gave the atmosphere a relaxing, restful feeling. There was a decent sized living room complete with a wood burning fire place and a cozy sofa. Miniature lighthouses gave the mantle a casual charm and seashells were scattered about the room in glass bowls. Pictures of rowboats hung on the cream colored walls. Hermione had to admit, they had thought of everything to try and keep her calm; it was certainly a beautiful room, but this house arrest deal was getting tiresome and it was all because Harry and the Ministry couldn’t track down Severus.

Hermione always knew he was a brilliant wizard. She had secretly admired his talents and intellect for years. She never underestimated the power he could wield and would constantly try to get Harry and Ron to see him from that point of view. Of course they never listened. To them Snape would always be the nasty Potions Professor who exerted his power unfairly upon anyone he chose. Hermione knew all of the spiteful detentions played a part in their perception of him and because they were so narrow-minded about his abilities, Severus would continue to elude them.

There must have been a good reason for why Severus abandoned her in the woods all those months ago. That was not the behavior she expected from him, especially after she had just saved his life and they seemed to be getting along. She couldn’t imagine why he would leave her Stunned and at the mercy of Death Eaters.

Hermione walked slowly toward the large window and peered outside. Ugh! Aurors and more Aurors and it seems like they saw everything. The complete lack of privacy was unnerving and a bit annoying. Well, there was something that she could do about her lack of solitude. Earlier in the day she had discovered one place the Aurors couldn’t see. When Ron had come to visit her, he mentioned that she shouldn’t bother trying to escape the cottage. He said the Aurors had made it Unpenetratable and that the only room they didn’t have to plot was the attic. Ron had said something about it already being secure and that the Aurors had welcomed one less task for them to accomplish before her arrival.

Grabbing her mysterious book of Love Spells, she headed for the narrow staircase that led to the attic. The climb was long and arduous and the cobwebs felt like they were caving in over her head but she kept going. Hermione giggled at the thought of Ron squealing like a scared child trying to climb through these sticky, stringy webs. The oak door was heavy and they key was permanently wedged into the keyhole. Rust had formed around the opening but with some coaxing, the lock gave way and the door lurched forward.

The attic was hazy and didn’t help ease her breathing issues but the thought of a few minutes of seclusion without the prying eyes of Harry, Ron or the Aurors, overrode the nagging health concerns that constantly loomed over her. Circling slowly, Hermione located an old, Victorian armchair and ottoman, a dusty floor lamp with a tattered lamp shade and a small redwood chest that would serve nicely as an end table. After a quick air freshening charm, the room was moderately inhabitable. Settling into the armchair, Hermione opened her book and began to read.

She was voracious for information. It had seemed years since she had done any sort of real studying and though the topic was less then desirable for her, she read through the first six chapters with ease. Already Hermione had learned that Love Spells were intricate and complicated and their history full and rich. It was a powerful branch of magic, one often overlooked by wizards and labeled as silly and frivolous. It was a branch of magic that was used mainly by witches and though they were competent in skill, they were sometimes desperate or ignorant in the execution of the spell and almost always the outcome was fatal.



Hermione stopped reading and squeezed her eyes together thoughtfully. That made absolutely no sense. If that is indeed the case, she pondered, any given witch or wizard could unwillingly initiate the beginnings of a Love Spell and be none the wiser against it.



“Ridiculous,” spat Hermione under her breath as she slammed the worn cover of the book shut and slowly got to her feet.

It is no wonder they don’t teach Love Spells in school. They are frivolous and no decent witch or wizard would stoop to using them. Even if what the book says is true and a spell can be cast by joining the hearts of two compatible people, the power lays not with the castor of the spell but the recipient who in turn has the authority to destroy both people.

“Really, how often does the heart join unconsciously against his or her owner?” It was a question of rhetoric to be sure but even as it left her lips, Hermione felt that dull, unfamiliar tug in her chest. She left the attic with more questions than answers as she descended the stairs toward the kitchen to brew more tonics.
**

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Chapter 10
Hidden Treasures

“Hermione “started Ron cautiously as he sat down on the sofa beside her. “What do you do every time you go into the attic?”

Hermione sipped her tea and stared at Ron innocently. “How do you know I go into the attic?”

Ron cleared his throat. “Just because the Aurors can’t see inside of that room doesn’t mean we don’t know you are in there. We keep close tabs on the rest of the house. There is a log journal of which room you are in and at what time. Wait…before you start to get upset…” Ron’s voice trailed off as he watched anger flush Hermione’s cheeks and her eyes bulge in accusation.

“Ron, how could…but why?” It wasn’t very often that Hermione found herself with a lack of words but fury overcame all sense of communication at this point. She could feel the anger building, shaking her frail frame in the process.

“’Mione, be reasonable,” said Ron desperately. “If Snape is going to try and penetrate our defenses around you, we need a clear picture of where you are and at what times you most often go there. Honestly, it is for your own safety.”

“I am not in danger from Severus Snape or anyone else. Harry has made sure of that! I am a prisoner in some sick, twisted peep show where my life and habits are viewed by complete strangers!” Hermione was so upset that she threw her teacup directly at Ron’s forehead. The mark welled up instantly and tinged pink around the edges.

“No one talks to me anymore,” she said softly. Hermione looked down at her thin fingers as tears sprang to her eyes. “Harry is upset with me, you follow his orders so I have no idea what is going on or why I am even subjected to this treatment.”

Ron sighed and moved closer to Hermione. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into his chest and tried to comfort her.

“Okay Hermione, I will fill you in but you have to promise not to let on that I gave you any clue as to where Harry’s investigation is leading.”

Hermione nodded and didn’t interrupt once since Ron began speaking. It was too horrifying to think about. A possibility that Voldemort could rise again chilled her core even more than the mysterious sickness. The possibility that Severus could be in on that plot was outrageous. Is that what she saved him for: to be reunited with his Death Eater pals to resurrect his Master? Hermione’ heart skipped a beat when Ron explained that Lucius Malfoy was being tailed by Aurors as a precaution but was seen in Knockturn Alley at the Devilishly Divine New and Used Bookstore.

“Why did he go there?” asked Hermione quickly.

“Well, according to the owner of the shop, Malfoy was browsing the shelves for a book about dark deaths and involuntary host.”

“Involuntary hosts? That would mean that someone is unwittingly going to help the Death Eaters raise Voldemort.”

“No, intelligence tells us that Malfoy is being directed from a script of some sort. This leads Harry to believe that Voldemort himself put this plan into action before his death as some sort of last resort. Harry believes that Snape is somehow tied in to this plan but has no idea of how, which is why he wants to question him.”
Hermione got to her feet shakily. Grasping the edge of the sofa to brace herself she stumbled toward the table that had her Love Spell book on it. This was the second time in a couple of days that she had information on unwitting and unwilling participants in spells. Perhaps this book was not a complete and utter waste of time.

Placing the book under her arm she absentmindedly headed for the stairs. She could hear Ron pleading with her to stay but she mumbled something about needed to study in a quiet place and kept going. She heard Ron groan “the attic again,” and then the front door slamming shut but she didn’t care. There were answers in this frivolous book, she could feel it.

The attic was as stuffy as ever but she did the usual charms to clarify the air and settled down to read. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt pulled between discovering the joys of studying and daydreaming. Severus Snape filled her thoughts. She just couldn’t believe that he was as evil as Harry seemed to think. She couldn’t fathom how someone who was completely brilliant could be used unwittingly like some pawn in a chess game.

As her thoughts wandered, her gaze fell upon an old snow globe atop the rotting bookcase on the far wall. It was suffocating beneath a layer of dust but despite its dingy appearance, Hermione could tell that it was vintage and very valuable. She was drawn to the decoration almost against her will. As she picked it up and held the base, it tingled in her hands, coursing a power through her fingertips. Undeniably this was a very powerful magical object.

The base was black and the picturesque cottage in the middle was surrounded on the back side with tall evergreen trees. The snow swirled hypnotically around the snowman in the front yard. The white picket fence held a gate which was slightly open but there were no people on the exterior of this little scene. The chimney actually smoked like it was lit from the inside. It was absolutely enchanting and beautiful.

Suddenly the room was ablaze with heat. It pressed up behind Hermione possessing her in a cocoon of warmth. The fierceness of her heart was beating in rapid succession and hadn’t done so since the beginning of her sickness. Her mind was filled with thoughts only of Severus. She could actually hear his voice pounding in her skull. Every nasty word he had ever called her echoed throughout the chambers of her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly against the harshness of his words as they caressed her mind and body. This was not the man she imagined, yet this is how she remembered him. Slowly his voice softened to a gentle breeze in her ear. His words were coaxing, pleading, begging even to hold her. He wanted to be with her. It was a dream, she knew it and yet she desired it more than anything in this world. And then just as suddenly as they appeared, the meanness of Professor Severus Snape returned. It was as if a raging battle was taking place and Hermione was at the center. She could feel the tension surround her as evil pulled at one side of her body and unmistakable passion pulled at the other.

“Touch the glass.”

“DANGER, TOUCH NOT THE GLASS.”

“Touch the glass, together”

“NO, TOUCH IT NOT!!”

Together, what did he mean together? There was no one else here. This was her prison. And then she sensed him. The warmth surrounding her, behind her became solid. His breath intoxicated her as he buried his face in her hair. His strong arms grasped her shoulders.

“Together,” he whispered in her ear.

And without thinking Hermione slowly reached out and brushed her fingertip along the side of the glass as she saw a masculine arm cloaked in black do the same.


**
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CHAPTER 11
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Someone was here. Someone was shuffling around the room. Hermione kept her eyes shut but continued to listen. There was a fire going: she could hear the crackling of the logs as they settled. Water was boiling off in another room as a tea kettle began to softly whistle. Whoever was here had cooked because the fragrant smells of jams and breads filled her nostrils. Hermione realized suddenly that she was famished and slowly opened her eyes.

He was standing over by the fireplace busying himself over a tray and as if sensing her awake, turned to face her. Hermione recoiled under his penetrating gaze. How such hate could emit from his eyes after she had saved his life Hermione did not understand, yet his anger was unmistakably etched all over his face. As Severus bent to pick up the tray and carried it over to her, Hermione quickly sat up in bed and pulled the covers clear up to her chin.

“I can get that,” she said softly as she reached for her wand.

“No, we must not use magic. Not until we are certain it is undetectable within this globe.”

“Within this…you mean we are trapped together in the snow globe?”

Hermione couldn’t believe this. He was here. How had he managed to escape the detection of the Aurors and Harry? How was it possible that after almost a year of being hunted by the Ministry of Magic, that Severus Snape was nestled right under their noses? Why did he leave her stranded in the woods helpless during the battle at Hogwarts? Why was he here? Hermione gasped; was he here because of her letter? Was it possible that he was going to help her discover this mysterious illness that plagued her body? And then Hermione remembered the conversation she had with Ron. Was it possible that Severus was indeed consorting with the Death Eaters? Was he trying to resurrect his former Master? That thought seemed unlikely. Hermione remembered how Severus had “shown” himself to Voldemort before Harry had defeated him. There was something in that moment that proved Severus’ loyalty isn’t to Voldemort but to Dumbledore and the cause.

“Why are you starring at me Professor?”

Severus smirked. How odd that she would think of him as a teacher when he had not been so to her for some time. Perhaps it was because she was in need of a lesson.

“You have many questions Miss Granger and all will be answered in due time. First you must eat. You have been sleeping for twelve hours and undoubtedly must be hungry.”

Severus set the tray of bread and jams upon her bed and walked out of the room. When he returned he held a steaming mug of tea which Hermione accepted gratefully. As Hermione ate, her mind raced with all sorts of thoughts and possibilities of how they got into the snow globe. She pondered how long they were to be imprisoned within it but most of all she longed to know why Severus Snape was trapped with her.

After her third mug of tea, she shoved the tray from her and looked questioningly at Severus. His face was impassive as always but she noticed that it was thinner than it had been since she last saw him. There were lines creasing his brow and his color was almost a sickly grey. All these months of running seemed to have taken its toll on Severus’ health.

“Professor, are you going to tell my how we came to be in this snow globe? Are you going to confirm receiving my letter all those months ago? Are you…”

“Must you always have something to question, Miss Granger?”

Severus paced the bedroom. He looked distracted, as if he was struggling to stay in control. Hermione had never seen him so unhinged and it frightened her.

“I do not know where this globe came from or why it encouraged you to touch it. I am further perplexed by the fact that it encouraged me to touch it with you or why I seemed powerless to fight its instruction.” His voice was harsh as he rushed to continue. “Perhaps we should start at the beginning or better yet, why don’t you tell me why your boyfriends are pursuing me with reckless abandon?”

Hermione starred into his obsidian gaze. It was empty and cold, just like his heart. Of course he would only care about the information she could give him to help him escape Harry and the Ministry. Harry and Ron had been telling her for years that Severus was a selfish piece of you-know-poo but she always believed there was something hidden deep within his soul that was good. She finally saw through whatever delusions she had built up in her mind regarding Severus. The only thing he cared about was saving his own skin. Well, she would not be the one to help him. He wasn’t even going to address her pleading letter asking for his help. He was egotistical to the core and she would not betray her friends anymore.

“Silly girl,” spat Severus angrily! “Your foolish devotion to your dimwitted friends causes you to doubt what you know! You sought me remember? You somehow are the root of all of this and you are blinded to its cause or more importantly any affects this will have on both of our lives!”

Severus turned towards the door, his black coat billowing out behind him. When he reached the door, he turned and starred at her with such venom that Hermione cowered beneath his gaze. “Don’t think they will find you anytime soon. The Aurors haven’t even figured out how to undo the Unpenetratable Charm the previous inhabitant left upon the attic. They know you are in the house but they can’t find you. Your brilliant boyfriend Weasley actually tripped over the snow globe doing his initial search and has since placed it back on the dusty bookcase.”

And without another word or glance, Severus stalked out of the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Hermione blinked in confusion as she continued to watch the door. He wouldn’t return but something small tugged at her heart hoping he would. Then the pain started. It pierced her chest so violently that it stole her breath. She tried to scream but no sound escaped her lips. It lasted for a few minutes but the agony seemed an eternity.

As the soreness subsided, Hermione replayed the conversation in her head. It had not gone as she had hoped. Instead of answers, she had more questions and an angry housemate to boot. What had gone wrong? Initially Severus seemed at ease. He had done something kind in fixing her something to eat and obviously the transport had weakened her because he placed her gently in this room in comfortable clothing. Then when it came time for answers, he got defensive. Hermione racked her brain trying to think of what she had said that would have caused such a reaction in Severus. Climbing out of bed and donning the white fleece robe draped over the chair, she began to pace the floor. Why would simple questions offend Severus? Then she remembered; Occlumency. Hermione didn’t practice Occlumency against Severus and every thought she had about his motives and what Ron had told her in regards to Harry’s strategy against Severus had just become public knowledge to him.

Hermione groaned as she walked over to the window and starred at the fake snowflakes swirling around the cottage. Severus’ anger was justified but was he angry because he now knows why Harry wishes to question him or because of how Harry feels about him? Surely not; Severus wouldn’t care that Harry thought he was selfish for all those years. In fact, Severus wouldn’t care what Harry thought of him ever. Was it possible that his anger stemmed from what she thought about him?

What had he said? ‘Silly girl…Your foolish devotion to your dimwitted friends causes you to doubt what you know.’

Hermione was frantic at her realization. She had hurt him. He cared that she thought he was self-centered. But that couldn’t be. Severus Snape loathed her and has always treated her with contempt and disrespect. Still the nagging suspicion remained that her thoughts had offended him. Perhaps she should try and explain.

Hermione was about to go after him when a muffled banging and hushed voices could be heard through the snow globe glass. Severus burst into the room again, his eyes blazing. He seized Hermione by the wrist and cupped on hand over her mouth.

“Not one sound out of you or I will personally make sure your boyfriends discover your body!”
***

~Muwahaha~ Not quite the reunion everyone expected huh? Thanks for reading. Please leave your feedback here!!!
nevillesgirl{

CHAPTER 12
PRESSURES

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as panic began settling in her chest. She knew he was angry; she could sense it. She was very aware of his rigid frame pressing up behind her as one of his hands covered her mouth and the other pinned her wrist at her side. She knew to struggle would be futile. Her illness has sapped valuable strength from her body leaving her as weak as a baby kitten, but not to fight would be a betrayal of not only her heart but her loyalties.

Just outside of the snow globe she heard the voices of her best friend and boyfriend. Both were frantic and frustrated.

“We have no other option Ron,” said Harry desperately

“Come off it Harry,” shouted Ron. “You of all people should know she’s a great old fraud!”

Hermione strained to listen against the intoxicating nearness of Severus. She was sure her heart was beating so loudly that he could hear it through her chest. A shadow passed across the window and Hermione shivered.

“This is Hermione we are talking about, remember?” Ron paused dramatically, and then continued. “Or have you forgotten that she is our friend?”

“I am not negotiating this Ron!”

“Are you really going to let her fate rest in the hands of Trelawney?” asked Ron harshly.

Hermione stood still, her eyes wide with shock. The next time Harry spoke, his words were laced with defeat.

“You…you don’t know what she’s capable of. I have no other choice. Without Hermione, we have no leads.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and sank her body into Severus’ chest. Trelawney: What was Harry up too? That woman had absolutely no credibility and the thought of Harry being as clueless as to Severus’ whereabouts made her stomach churn. How was he ever going to rescue her if he couldn’t find her?

As Hermione listened, the shuffling footsteps ceased and the unmistakable quivering voice of Sybil Trelawney filled the room. Hermione felt Severus slacken his grip around her wrist as Professor Trelawney made her pronouncements.

“Ironic that she didn’t believe but now it is Miss Granger I must “see”;tension, yes such tension to be felt and the conflict that ensues…staggering.”

Suddenly Professor Trelawney gasps and Severus chuckles as he turns Hermione around by the shoulders to face him.

“Hmmm, I guess Potter really is an imbecile to trust the ramblings of a has-been seer. Sybil couldn’t find a remote control in the hands of an unemployed couch potato.”

Hermione clenched her jaw as she closed her eyes to dark hypnotic stare of Severus’ eyes and focused on his words. The arrogance that spilled from his lips was nauseating. True she was having similar thoughts but Harry was her best friend, or at least he used to be, and she wasn’t trying to discredit or mock him. She whirled upon him in anger with every intention of leasing a verbal assault upon him when the voice of Professor Trelawney shrieked.

“PINK! Pink engulfing the black, surrounded by snow!”

Disbelief shrouded the face of Severus Snape as he starred out the window and beveled glass towards Trelawney’s frantic voice. Hermione knew she had only a split second to make her decision. Somehow she needed to get the attention of the people in the other room. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she shoved hard against Severus’ chest and ran into the hallway. Behind her she could hear Severus shouting obscenities at her but she didn’t care. She was not going to aide him in resurrecting Voldemort.
She reached the end of the hall winded and out of breath.

“Granger,” growled Severus from the other end of the hall.

Hermione froze and slowly turned, her eyes searching for anything that she could use as a weapon. Her gaze rested upon a lighthouse. It was made of ceramic and she could only pray that it was solid. Picking it up, she hoisted it overhead as Severus laughed cynically.

“Do you seriously believe that insignificant figurine will inflict any harm to me?”

With a scathing glare, Hermione hurled the lighthouse towards his head. Severus ducked out the way easily but the figurine punctured a hole in the wall and to both their amazement, shattered the window in the next room.

***
“Professor, who cares about what color of your scarves, is overlapping the other. You are supposed to be giving us information on the location of Hermione Granger,” sneered Ron as he tapped his foot impatiently and Harry braced himself for the possibility that bringing in his old Divination Professor could have been a disastrous mistake.

“What are you talking about ‘snow’? It isn’t snowing outside and Hermione Granger has not left the house. The Aurors have no evidence of her departure or removal of these premises.” Harry ran his fingers through his untidy hair as Sybil Trelawney held up her hands for silence.

In the stillness of words and breath they heard it; glass shattering. Professor Trelawney looked frightened behind her thick glasses and covered her mouth with her shaking hands as Harry and Ron spread out about the attic searching for any signs of broken glass.

“Mr. Potter,” whispered Professor Trelawney, “here.”

Harry and Ron made their way over to the bookcase and found Sybil shaking a pointed finger to the floor. The snow globe had fallen from the bookcase and miraculously survived intact. The one exception was a tiny hole where the snow was slowly leaking out and a miniature lighthouse lying on the floor beside it.

***
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CHAPTER 13
TRANSISTIONS

He couldn’t escape her. The confinements of this tiny cottage and the restrictions of the snow globe only enhanced her presence more. She was foolish and lashed out impulsively. Little did she know that the miniature lighthouse would indeed pierce the wall and glass causing all that chaos so noticeable to the outside world. All he wanted to do was forget how they got here and try and discover how to get out of the predicament they were in. Impossible when she couldn’t be trusted.

Severus took a deep breath and picked up her tray of toast , jam and tea. Seeing as he had magically confined her to the bedroom and she was dependent upon him for survival, there was no way around her now. Every day for the last week Severus had taken three trays a day into Hermione’s room. He sat in the chair next to the bed and fed her because he didn’t trust her to release her wrists from their bonds. Every day for the last week Severus had endured the blazing look of fury and determination in her eyes. They accused him with every movement and while he felt a small twinge of guilt over keeping her in this present state, he knew that until she figured out why he was there and who he really was, she would do anything to sabotage his security.

She had no idea what was going on around her or to her. She had no idea that something unseen between them seemed to bond them together. She had no clue that the physical ailments that plagued her were slowly taking hold of his body. The aches and difficulties breathing were coming closer together in him now too. She was oblivious to anything around her except that she was a prisoner. So while she glared at him for hours on end, Severus had taken to huddling in the corner with his Love Spell book and a journal. He understood about unwilling participants and powerful ancient magic, what he couldn’t understand was his binding to this intolerable know-it-all or why they shared the same symptoms. The journal was full of ideas and theories, one as unlikely as the next yet all making sense in some abstract, ancient way.

As quietly as he could Severus made his way up the wooden staircase. Each footstep allowed a creek which he was sure could be heard outside of the house. He didn’t have much time. Harry usually came into the attic every morning at nine and almost instantly gravitated toward the snow globe. He spent hours starring at it, holding it, flipping it over in his hands. Mercifully, there was some sort of charm which allowed Hermione and himself to remain upright instead of being tossed upside down. Still, the thought of how close Potter was to capturing him churned his stomach like butter.

Slowly Severus pushed open the door to Hermione’s room. She was still sleeping, her hair fanned about the propped up pillow and knotted at the ends. She looked tranquil and relaxed, not harassed and in pain like when she was awake. Severus closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the slow, even sound of her breathing.

“My heart,” Hermione whispered. "Don't die...you mustn't."

Severus pushed the sound of her voice from his mind. It didn’t do to dwell on such intangible things. He knew that every time he lingered on any flattering thought of Hermione Granger, the pain in his dark mark faded, yet he couldn’t bring himself to trust her. Her recent actions of trying to get them both discovered proved that he couldn’t think about her in any way except an enemy. Still, the melody of her voice seemed to embrace his thoughts.

The sound of the tray crashing to the floor woke Hermione suddenly but Severus didn’t notice the look of mingled shock and fear upon her face. The moment he made a conscious effort to push that voice from his mind, a stabbing, burning pain branded his dark mark beneath the sleeve of his robe. In his surprise, Severus dropped the tray of food but didn’t make to retrieve it. His mark scorched like a recent flame. It hadn’t done so since before the demise of his former Master.

“What in the name of Merlin are you trying to do, scare me to death?” Hermione’s tone was sharp and clearly she meant to cut with it.

“Obviously Miss Granger,” slurred Severus smartly, “In case you failed to notice, I had a bit of an…issue with an old wound.”

“Don’t try and be clever Snape. Your mark hasn’t burned since Voldemort was killed. That little ploy won’t work with me.” Hermione did her best to mask her uncertainty but Severus saw right through her feeble attempt.

“Do you feel strong Snape, holding a sick young woman captive against her will? Does it make you feel like you are in control or,” Hermione paused suddenly, her eyes wide, “ surly not…the Master?”

Hermione was baiting him with her words, drawing him in for an argument. Logically he knew this strategy well. It was a form of desperation and the weaker usually resorts to slander tactics to throw the stronger off his game. How well she was playing her part; venom in her voice and hatred plastered upon her drawn face.

“Deep down Snape, you know you need me. You need me to keep Harry and the others off of your trail. You need me to help keep you safe and that kills you doesn’t it? The fact that you need help from a former student and woman no less is eating away at your confidence isn’t it?”

She tossed her mangled hair about her shoulders, narrowing her eyes even tighter as she stared angrily at him. She looked so frail and yet Severus recognized the same fire and determination in her eyes that Lily would have when she readied herself for a fight. It was both beautiful and terrible.

“How wrong I was about you Snape,” continued Hermione cruelly. “Somewhere hidden beneath all that black I thought there was a spot of decency within you but there is nothing. The black that you cloak yourself with has seeped through to your heart and contaminated it. Even Ron, who is little better than an over-grown child has decency enough to treat me with respect; you merely seize and control with little regard to anything or anyone but yourself!”

Severus shook with rage. He could feel his temper struggling to maintain control while bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

“How dare you compare me to that boy,” Severus screamed! “Weasley knows nothing of life or death. His intelligence is mediocre at best and he’s been riding the coattails of you and Potter for years and you have the gall to insinuate…”

His dark mark was searing, yet he almost felt no pain. She was a vision to behold; lovely and grotesque in her sickly state. Severus shut his eyes tightly against the violent pulling of his heart. Any moment it felt as if it would tear in two. Severus shook his head defiantly against Hermione’s words. Years of training his thoughts and feelings to be in compliance with Lord Voldemort’s views was now clashing with this newfound feeling of yearning for his former student. Severus wanted her and hated her. Never in his life had he felt such ferocity wrestling within his core.

He felt Harry pick up the snow globe and swish it around. Severus growled inwardly. This was no time for Harry to be investigating their secret hiding place. Hermione must have sensed that Harry was looking at the snow globe too for her next words induce a response in him that had not occurred since he was a student at Hogwarts.

“Harry was right about you. You are a coward.”

It was a howl worthy of summoning Death. It tore from his mouth in a violent surge of emotion that charged the entire room. Severus stalked over to the bed and seized Hermione cruelly by the shoulders. He could see the fear in her eyes but it was blurred by his anger. He shook her until a tiny whimper escaped her lips. Severus placed both of his hands on either side of her head and forced Hermione to look at him. Despite her terror, he could tell that he finally had her attention. She wasn’t baiting him, she wasn’t taunting or teasing him; she was seeing him as he was covered in hatred, humiliation and pain.

When he spoke his voice was barely a whisper but Severus knew that she would grasp the meaning of every word.

“You, beautifully evil vixen; your selfishness has blinded you to the truth and your narrow-mindedness has all but smothered any goodness left within me. Apparently I don’t learn from my mistakes: I should have known better then to trust a mudblood such as you.”

At that moment a laughing so wicked echoed loudly throughout the room. It penetrated every corner of the snow globe and beyond. The snow globe shattered into a million pieces and Severus still grasping tightly to Hermione’s face were inflated again to normal size. The force of the blast threw Harry backwards.

Then she screamed; she was in pain, worse than dying and he knew it was his fault. Her eyes were wide with fright as if she saw some terrible revelation and the screaming became more pronounced and forceful.

“Help me!”

It was the last thing she said before she disappeared.

**
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Thank you for continuing to read this story. I apologize for not updating sooner but it is done now. This is a long chapter. For your information, the spell in this chapter uttered by Severus is phrased in the Latin language. Enjoy.

CHAPTER 14
DISTURBING REALIZATIONS

What has he done? Where has she gone? Severus stared blankly at his hands that twenty four hours ago held a trembling Hermione Granger. Inconceivable that the last memory she will have of him is using that filthy word. This can’t be happening; not again. Severus ran his hands through his greasy hair and turned to pace the attic. His feet crunched over shards of broken glass, the last remnants of the snow globe that held so much potential for answers.

Walking over to the window Severus thought about the events that had transpired over the last twenty four hours. Potter and Weasley together interrogated him and were less then please with the lack of knowledge they received and because they deemed him to be uncooperative, they refused to confide what little information they had. It was a stalemate of the worst kind with both sides unwilling to give an inch. In the end, Harry refused to release Severus. He held him captive, bound by the same protective charms that held Hermione against her will.

Severus left the window and walked back toward the armchair. Hermione’s chair, he thought ruefully. It was up to him to figure this out. His instincts told him that Potter and the rest of the Ministry were unreliable and untrustworthy. Settling himself in the armchair, Severus closed his eyes and gently began to empty his mind of any unnecessary things. Anything that didn’t have to do with this predicament had to go. As much as possible he needed to concentrate and not think about Hermione Granger. He couldn’t risk coming into her presence if that meant facing the Dark Lord unprepared. He only prayed that she wouldn’t think about him; she would be safer that way. Calming his thoughts, he emptied.
That laugh; His laugh, her screams and Hermione’s disappearance, all of these things were not mere coincidences. He was back. Somehow, someway, the Dark Lord had conceived his rebirth. Severus knew his former Master enough to believe that fact was true on all accounts. What he did not understand was how it was done and that is where he must begin.

*
It has been days since Severus begun this quest against the Dark Lord. He neither slept nor ate, but spent every moment in the armchair obsessing over the only book that held any answers. Love Spells were a frivolous pastime often used by the weak and insecure and yet Severus found himself believing more and more in the extreme power untapped that this ancient branch of magic had.

Already he had discovered that he was an unwilling participant in such foolishness and that unbelievable as it sounded, Miss Granger was the castor. It was still necessary to discover the intent upon her words but already he knew that their fate was bound together somehow. It was ridiculous; she loved him, or had at one point, until his imprudent remarks about her parentage. It was also apparent that when he was feeling particularly closed off, even hateful towards Hermione, his dark mark burned brightly. The equal was true if he embraced the fondness he was beginning to feel for her except the pain in his mark diminished rather quickly. Severus had yet to determine if these two events co-existed together or separately but one thing was clear; Severus recognized the same symptoms growing steadily worse within him as they had in Hermione. He was becoming increasingly weak and sickly. When he looked in the mirror each morning, there staring back at him was a face gaunt and riddled with guilt.

What confused him was why he wasn’t traveling into her presence as before? Was it because of the argument that transpired between them or was it having to do with the return of his former Master? Whatever the missing piece, Severus knew he needed to figure it out before he was thrown into Hermione’s presence or reunited with the Dark Lord.

Severus knew that something was missing though. There was some vital portion of information he lacked to put the whole thing together. He needed the origin of the spell, he needed the surroundings, he needed…he needed to go back to the night he died. He needed his mind to release what had happened and what was said.

Severus leaned his head back and counted to ten. He willed his breathing to slow into a steady, rhythmic motion. He emptied his mind of all but the spell. It was a long time since he had thought of this spell, useful to bring to light the subconscious mind but also very dangerous if one was not fully prepared for what the subconscious wanted. He could feel it now, the spell longing to be of service. His mind and body were equipped for its truth and so he spoke the words which lay dormant in his thoughts.

“Cepi Corpus-I got the body
Cetera Desunt-The rest is missing
Cor aut mors- Heart or Death”

A flood of memories rushed back to him; The Dark Lord’s narrow eyes, the stinging of the venom seeping from his neck and coursing through his body, Lily’s voice, Hermione’s face.
Severus focused his intention on Hermione’s face. She looked worried. He could feel her hands as he saw her brushing his blood-soaked hair from his face and neck. He could almost feel her breath as she bent to whisper something in his ear. What did she say? Severus strained his thoughts even further, willed his intent on the words.

‘…You have my heart until you so choose to bestow it back to me.’

Severus gasped and stood up suddenly. The memories faded to the safety of his subconscious mind but her words, her words remains strong and clear.

‘You have my heart...’

‘…choose to bestow it back to me’

He was frozen. The severity of the situation couldn’t penetrate the disbelief that numbed his body. Hermione Granger, in love with him, gave him her heart? It was unthinkable. It was reckless and irresponsible and…and completely impossible.
Forcing his feet to move, Severus strode over to the table and scanned quickly the contents of the last chapter he read in the Love Spell book. His eyes raked over the pages ferociously, his mind absorbing every bit of information necessary. In frustration he threw the book across the room and growled. This was madness!

Hermione Granger was dying; she was dying and so was he. Hermione Granger had given him her heart and in doing so cast a spell so powerful, it would be fulfilled either in life or death. They would be together only if Severus allowed her to love him and loved her in return and if not, they would be together in the afterlife. Severus swore violently. The ache in his chest was so pronounced now that he could not distinguish if it was from the spell or from actually feelings; feelings he had long since buried and forgotten, feelings that only Lily Evans had stirred in him. Severus crossed the room and retrieved the book, hugging it to his chest. They were doomed either way for Severus was certain that he was not capable of…of loving again.

He shut his eyes tightly as if trying to keep out the possibility of it. It pained him even to think on the word, let alone reminisce on the actual emotion. Love is the root of every problem ever conceived in his life: His mother’s unholy love for the abusive muggle drunkard, his unnatural attraction to Lily’s pure muggle nature, his evil and obsessive love for the Dark Arts. Love has never once proven to be the redeeming force Dumbledore always claimed it would be.

What frightened him beyond admittance is that somehow the Dark Lord has intertwined his return with this unnatural and untimely Love Spell of Miss Granger. The more reviled the thoughts against her Severus had, the more his dark mark seared in pain. It was not clear however which only told Severus that his former Master had not yet regenerated in physical form and that gave him hope. He needed time to figure out how to undo the damage Granger had done and also keep the Dark Lord from realizing fruition with his plan.

Where was Hermione Granger now? What was happening to her? Was she thinking of him? Perhaps not and that is why he wasn’t coming into her presence as of late. And suddenly she was there, filling his mind with her fear and her longing for him. Severus knew he only had a moment to act. He scrawled an untidy note and dropped it onto the table letting Potter and the Ministry know that he was undoubtedly being thrust unwillingly into Voldemort’s presence.

Severus released his mind and embraced the thoughts Hermione was sending out. He enveloped her terror, comforted her aches and grasped at the tiny shred of love still within her heart. He was soaring through walls and over towns in what seemed minutes. When he finally stopped he was in a room he recognized. He knew he was below ground and that there was every imagined protection against muggles and the Ministry surrounding it. He was in the basement of Lucius Malfoy and he wasn’t alone.

**
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*Whew, thanks to all of you who have continued to PM me with frequent requests for an update. This is a very long chapter but unfortnately I can't split it and make it into 2 chapters so you will just have to endure. This is the end. I will most likely have one final chapter to tie up some loose ends but the meat of it is right in here. Enjoy*

CHAPTER 15
Death calling

The acrid stench of stale sweat and death filled his nostrils. It was a familiar scent however unpleasant and gave Severus the courage to brave a glance at his surroundings. The dim candlelight and the dirt floors combined with the proverbial smell of blood gave no illusions to where he was. Severus was in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

The room was freezing, but for the cauldron set upon a blazing fire. Encompassing the cauldron was a neatly drawn circle. Severus could feel the magic pulsing from within and a shiver, whether from cold or fear, traced his spine ominously. Faded shadows were lurking in the corners but his eyes were not yet adjusted to the darkness and he could only imagine what and why he was here.

Of course Severus knew why he was here; Hermione. She had summoned him somehow and he had embraced her emotion and used it to bring himself to her. The static that hung heavily in the air gave no doubt that a very real and pressing danger was upon them, likely some form of Lord Voldemort waiting, but the only thing Severus could concentrate on was Hermione.
Where was she? She was here in this dark room, he could feel her presence. She was terrified and weak, terribly weak but she was hidden from his view. Her terror permeated the room and Severus could only guess that the reason she did not cry out to him was that she couldn’t speak. A Langlock Curse undoubtedly but perhaps that was the best case scenario. Perhaps she was unconscious, barely alive and waiting for him to…
To do what, he thought grimly. Her foolishness has placed them both in danger. What could she possibly expect him to do about this tangled situation? She sniffled.

One thing was for certain though. He knew he couldn’t remain lying in the dirt like a common servant. With trembling arms, Severus pushed himself up off the filthy floor and strained to focus on his company.

“Well, well, he has come,” spoke the silky voice of Lucius Malfoy. “Perhaps not in the manner the Dark Lord expected but he is here nonetheless.”

Lucius strut forward toward Severus surrounded by an air of superiority. His gleaming blond hair shined brightly down his back in perfect straight locks. He twirled his wand casually between his forefinger and his thumb and stared into Severus’ onyx pupils.
“Do you,” he whispered, “have any idea as to why your presence is requested at this late hour Severus?”

Severus snorted. He would not dignify any question of Malfoy with any sort of response. He was grasping as he always was, for an opportunity to restore his family name and regain some aspect of respect and power it once ensued. Severus had survived much more than this sniveling of a man trying to intimidate him into revealing something.

“Ah, you feel that you are above speaking to me is that it my old friend?” Lucius lightly tapped Severus’ cheek with his wand tip, sending white sparks from it. They scorched his face, leaving three black char marks smoking with pain.

Another sniffle.

“The irony is,” laughed Lucius cruelly, “that whatever you do, you will die here today.”

At the prediction of his own death, Severus snapped his head straight and glared into the gaze of Lucius Malfoy. He knew something, maybe he knew everything but the only thing that was going to help Severus now was to keep him talking. He would have to speak to the phony.

“What do you know about my death, Malfoy?”

“How foolish of you Severus to betray our Master but even more foolish to flaunt it before his death. Your treachery fuelled his anger and before his death he conjured a spell, a way for him to return.” Lucius circled Severus slowly; the hem of his robes brushing Severus’ legs. His face pushed in close to Severus as he spoke. “Something about your demeanor that night struck the Dark Lord as odd, a trace of something foreign to your soul, yet not something unfamiliar to you. It was that despicable, unseen force Love. You should have been dead and then miraculously you were not.”

“I DON’T LOVE HER: A child a novice at the ways of life and…”

“Love,” finished Lucius coldly.

A soft whimpering followed by a hollow moan escaped Hermione’s lips wherever she was. At the same time, Severus’ dark mark seared his skin.

“Not her,” said a sinister voice in a hushed whisper, “but one like her in many ways.”

The recognizable mist floated threateningly toward Severus and he knew that his former Master inhabited it. Relief flooded him as Severus realized that Lord Voldemort had not yet procured a body and regained his full strength but he dreaded the words of Malfoy; ‘his death’. He was here as the sacrifice. It was unrealistic to think that his boldness in revealing his life when young Potter killed Voldemort all those months ago would go unpunished. The Dark Lord always finds a way to punish his unfaithful.

“You see Snape,” hissed Voldemort quietly, “you have been touched by love before and a tainted love at that from the Mudblood Evans, and therefore not immune to its powers. Somehow it diluted Nagini’s venom and allowed the Mudblood Granger’s antidote to take rapid effect.”

Severus gasped. Voldemort kept talking as the mist thickened around Severus almost suffocating him but that didn’t matter. The beating of Severus’ heart drowned out the evil and embraced the truth. Voldemort had missed it again and this time out of his own mouth. Dumbledore had been right all along. Love was indeed the key and Voldemort, not being able to understand or feel it, dismissed its power unwisely.

The love he had for Lily Evans was innocent and pure and transcended all the damage that had smothered it to the depths of his soul. It clung to his being, refusing to let him fall fully into the Dark Lord’s power. It was this love that Hermione’s spell had latched on to and that combined with her own love had saved him. The spell worked only if the heart was compatible which meant that his heart was joined irrevocably with hers. That is why he shared her sickness. That is why she…oh gosh, she was dying. His inability to love was killing her and every time he was cruel to her and pushed her away, his dark mark burned and gave life to Voldemort.

Voldemort’s monologue droned and Severus’ head was spinning but not from boredom. Voldemort had crafted his return around a power he didn’t believe in. Severus’ nature of protecting this girl through her youthful rampages with Potter and the Weasley boy could kick in and he could die fighting to free her from her fate or he could deny her publically which would suck the life from his body and hers as Voldemort assumed his breath.

“Oh Severus,” said Voldemort quietly, “you haven’t been listening to me. Perhaps you are in need of a little persuasion.”

The mist lifted from Severus and shot upward, illuminating the ceiling. Severus cringed in horror at the sight that befell his eyes. Hermione was suspended from the roof, shackled by her wrists and ankles. The iron chains were cutting into her creamy flesh and blood was dripping from the open wounds caused by the sharp metal. Her hair was disheveled, obscuring her sight and her neck was hanging awkwardly forward and down.
The mist spread to consume her body and her screams were deafening. Blood stains appeared through her tattered robes upon her torso, arms and legs. It mingled with a light pink mist that escaped the very cavity of her chest.

Severus dropped to his knees, unable to bare the sound of her agony. His chest throbbed violently and the same pink mist trickled through his blackened robes. His mouth parched and his lips cracked as he struggled to speak. His voice box crushed against his throat. It was impossible to communicate. Hermione went limp with pain and he feared her dead. He feared. He feared for someone other than himself for the first time in 18 years. He feared that life without her would be a return to the vast emptiness that he had built around himself in the absence of loss. Severus gulped for air. No, he would not return to the emptiness. Life without Hermione would be worse than emptiness.
He was frozen, paralyzed with the fear of her loss but more importantly, with the knowledge that his heart was warm with wanting her. It was a wanting that surpassed any physical attraction. It was a wanting of the soul; it was a wanting for her safety, a wanting for a chance.

Voldemorts voice boomed in strength as Severus felt his own life forfeit. “Yesssss, prove to your Master that you are sorry, that you are truly my faithful. She is nothing more than the symbol of a lover lost many years ago. Your inaction proves you cannot love and I shall live once more!”

No! Function Severus! It was a command he rarely had to give to his mind but his self esteem made it impossible to reveal the emotions rebelling to escape his heart and thoughts. He knew what he needed to do. He couldn’t deny her anymore. To do so would be certain death for them both but more concrete than that was the absolute realization that the only way to save them both was to surrender his heart, his soul, whatever love he was capable of, to Hermione Granger.

Severus allowed the sweet paste of pink mist and blood to drip over his head. He tasted the bitterness of her effort to hold on to his affection and without thinking embraced it into his body. It gagged and choked him as it flowed down his throat, repairing his voice box and through his torso. His body shook as her innocent love mingled with the harsh shred of memory that was love for Severus.

Severus straightened as this new love flowed effortlessly through his body, strengthening him. The shackles that bound Hermione to the roof released and she fell gracefully into his arms. With the physical touching of their skin, the process completed. The ache in Severus’ chest dulled to nothing and his breathing regulated. He felt Hermione’s frail frame strengthen as she embraced the truth of his love.

It took every ounce of effort to tear their eyes from one another to the strangled mist above them. It was growling and snarling in disbelief and hatred. As Hermione leaned her head against Severus’ shoulder, the mist tore neatly into eight shreds and exploded into thin air.

It was done.

**
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Nevillesgirl**

Epilogue

Hermione stood on the second floor landing above the stairs twisting her pale pink lace handkerchief between two very nervous hands. The past two years were excruciating both emotionally and physically but with the aquital of Severus Snape for the murder of Albus Dumbledore and the final reconstructive phase being completed at Hogwarts, the time seemed ripe for new beginnings all around.

She began to pace the cold stone floors in anticipation of what was to happen this evening. All the most important dignitaries were to be in attendance for the grand re-opening of Hogwarts and the formal proclamation of Professor McGonagall overtaking the position of Headmistress.

Tonight was also the formal mixture for the professors to get better aquainted with one another. It would be the first time since the devastating battle of Hogwarts that the castle would be inhabitited with the living.

Hermione passed in front of a newly shined suit of armour and checked her reflection. True she had taken pains with her appearance tonight but the magnificence of the occasion had nothing to do with this. Simply put, she was more interested in the guest of honor and his speech. After applying more cherry lip gloss, Hermione turned and resumed her frantic pacing.

Severus Snape was given this honor in light of the testimony by Harry. It was Harry who had enlightened the Wizengamot as to Severus' true intentions and actions over the past five years. It was Harry who, after pitching what most accurately was a temper tantrum at hearing of how exactly Hermione was saved, had agreed to keep the love between her and his once mortal enemy a secret from the public.

It was tonight, as Hermione accepted Professor McGonagall's offer to be the liason of Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic, that Severus accepted a position as Defense against the Dark Arts Professor once more. This night would mark the first public appearance of Severus Snape, but more importantly it would mark him as an equal with Hermione: a colleague.

Hermione took a couple of deep breaths to regulate the panic settling within her heart. She has neither seen nor heard from Severus face to face for the past two years. There isolation from one another was the hardest thing she has ever had to endure but when Severus had explain how essential this time of seperation was she grudgingly had agreed. In hindsight the public trial of her beloved and the public outrage against him ebbed only slightly after Harry's convincing testimony. Had she stood by his side during that difficult time, well she had seen the articles that Rita Skeeter had produced in the moments leading up to the trial and thereafter and she knew that her devotion to a member of the wizarding world whose reputation was so tarnished would have indeed been a black spot on her own life as well. She was fairly certain however that he still cared for her as much as he did that evening two years ago when he surrendered to love her with his entire being. She was certain because the complexity of the Lovespell would have let her know immediately if he had chosen not to love her again.

How would she react to seeing him again? Would the deep black hole of his gaze suck her in and drown her as it had done in the past? Would the soft, sultry sound of his voice penetrate into her soul and cause her to surrender utterly to him? She stopped suddenly in her daydream and fluttered one nervous hand to her throat. How would he react to seeing her again?

Oh God, what if he continued to love her but refused to be near her? The thought was almost unbearable.

"Hermione, you look absolute beautiful."

Hermione turned to see Ronald Weasley walking toward her briskly. Harry and Ginny were deep in conversation behind him but raised a hand in silent greeting among hearing her name.

"Uh, thank you Ron," stammered Hermione quietly. She had no intention of leading him on and looked wildly at Harry for some sign of intervention.

Harry put a restraining hand upon Ron's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Harry. I know you told me that she is in love with another but not in these last two years have I seen or heard of her being with anyone else. I will give her space, but until I see for myself there is another, my desire will always be for her."

"Ron, I am sorry. I know we have been through a lot over the years but my heart belongs to another. He is my equal and completes the infirmities in me and I in him. Please try to be happy for me." The crestfallen look upon his face hastened her to continue. "He is a good and decent man. I would not have given him my heart otherwise."

"Well, do I get to meet this guy?" Ron asked, his voice laced with surliness. "Is it anyone I know?"

Hermione nodded but was unable to make her mouth work properly. Harry leaned over and whispered in Ron's ear what Hermione could only imagine sounded as a curse word as Harry said Severus' name.

Ron stared at Hermione in shocked silence, his face changing several shades of red before storming off, humiliated.

"Hermione, are you sure he will welcome you after all these years?" whispered Harry.

"He will welcome her and more."

Hermione forgot that Harry and Ginny were there, forgot that Ron was certainly upset with her and unashamedly forgot her own nervousness as she stood at the top of the staircase staring down at Severus Snape. He was dressed in freshly laundered robes of black silk with a shiny satin trim. His hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, showing his strong eyes and jaw line. Hermione drowned in love as his eyes drank her in.

She couldn't make her legs work but it didn't matter. He rose up to meet her, brushing a loose tendril of her brown shining curls out of her eyes. It was almost time for the formalities to begin as sounds from the Great Hall began overflowing into the foyer and she still couldn't will her body to move, not when Severus was in such close proximity to her.

"Courage Hermione," whispered Severus gently. "Permit me to escort you into the Great Hall as young Viktor Krum once did many years ago. Allow me to escort you to the staff table and make certain that no other wizard claims you for a dance this evening. Grant me everything that has been denied us these two long years, tonight, the night of resting the past and smiling upon the future."

Hermione smiled radiantly as Severus held out his arm in what was promised to be the first of many formal gestures on her behalf this evening and as she placed her delicate hand in the crook of it and allowed him to lead her down the stairs, Hermione felt sure that the rest of her life had just changed course for the better.

THE END...FINALLY

**Thank you to all of the members and none-members who have continued to read this fanfiction over the last year. If you feel kind, please leave feedback here. Oh, by the way, there are some errors in this epilogue...I didn't use a beta. I hope you can overlook them.

Aloha,
~nevillesgirl