TRAITOR'S LAST WORDS
She could remember his touch, his large hands, roughened by his potions work, that which he was famous for and gave him a life out of his bleak childhood, but also the skill that damned him to the snake-faced monster. She was a Beuxbatons graduate, joined the Order of the Phoenix with Fleur, and a few years back, became Severus' handler for his spy duties, after the war had escalated to a European scale and the Order had expanded almost worldwide.
"You could stay. Dumbledore will protect you"
"No Hermione, I have to go back. There are people there that I still care about. Goodbye Mia."
And he had taken her petite face with his large hands and kissed her, soft and long. But it had felt different, desperate. And she had felt something which she had never seen him do, never, not his childhood when he was beaten, not his teenage years when he was bullied, not his adulthood when he was tortured. He was crying, soft silent tears, mixed with the rain, trickling down his cheeks, dropping to the round. The he had turned and ran away, splashing through the rain.
"Severus" she cried. He turned his head, tears running freely down his cheeks and gave her one last look, sadness in his eyes and then apparated away. She knew he wasn't coming back, but his desperate need for atonement drove him, he couldn't run away. So he went back to the border wards, out of Berlin's safe house and into the dark lord's stronghold in the country side east of the city, back into dangers were she couldn't protect him from. Back to protect Lucius Malfoy, his mentor and protector, and Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo, his beloved Slytherin students. Right then she cursed his Gryffindor courage, wished his Slytherin self-interest would take over and he would come back.
That would be their last meeting, her last memory of him, and she stored in deep into her mind, behind strong occlumency barriers. The only thing left of Severus Alexander Snape, youngest potions Master in history, Hogwarts teacher, Order of the Phoenix member and spy would be the amber pendant he had given her, woven with protection charms, her one photo of them together and the memories of them together.
When Moody found her hours later, she sat on a bench, soaked from the rain, staring at the photo, the picture blurred by the never stopping rain. Now she didn't even have the photo.
"Come on Hermione, we have to get out of Germany and back to England. They're expecting us at Hogwarts in the morning." But when she made no move to go, he sat next to her and held her, let her cry away her fears as he too, suffered. They had hated each other at the beginning, the roughed auror too distrusting of traitors, to whatever the cause, and the spy to scared to trust anyone except perhaps Albus. But they had now handled him for years, and he wasn't just an agent for him any more, he had become a friend and colleague for Moody.
When hours later they flew to the floo station, fear in their hearts, they were silent. They would report it to London station, they would fight for him, but as Albus had said, they were a few wizards against an immoral army of insane bloodthirsty criminals, and the old order was dead. Agents and spies were left alone now, obliviated, and teams to get them out didn't exist any more, with the little man power they had.
They would move to handle another agent, or be sent back to Berlin station and everyone would forget the unnamed and unknown hero. Moody would remember for a long time, longer than others, but he would eventually forget too. But not Hermione, she knew that she would never let go. She fingered the amber pendant as she walked away.