Disclaimer: The HP universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and various other people/companies she has chosen to sell it to (not including me). I'm not sure who the idea of Dark Revels belongs to, but the writer in question should know that it is such a good idea that it stuck in my memories. I can't promise that I haven't picked up stuff from other stories, because what inspired me to write a Severus/Hermione story in the first place was other Sev/Herm stories. If you recognise anything from your story, just take it as a compliment that it would stick in my subconsciousness. I have no idea who came up with the idea that Hermione gained almost a year by her over-zealous use of a time-turner either.

I got the word "poot" from "Maskerade" by Terry Pratchett.

Thanks goes to Fata Morgana, for beta-reading, and to all those great Severus/Hermione writers out there who inspired me to do this story.

"Interlude"

Hermione hugged Harry. "Good luck," she said. "Try not to get killed."

"You too," he said, smiling a little. He looked down. "I wish Ron could have been here."

"At least he's safer in the Hospital wing than out here with us."

"Yeah. Oh, they're calling my group up. I have to go."

"Bye, Harry," Hermione whispered as Harry ran up to the mismatched group of Aurors and members of The Order of the Phoenix gathering on one side of the Quidditch pitch. She sniffed a little, then turned to her own, small group. "When is the shield coming down?"

*

Hermione landed with a barely suppressed "Oof!" on the ground outside a menacing-looking building. 'Malfoy Manor', she thought. 'How arrogant of Lucius to believe that his money could stop us from finding out where he hid his prisoners. How arrogant of him to hide them here.'

She nodded to Padma Patil, Sander Wedge and Oliver Wood. They parted ways, Hermione heading towards the East Wing while the others went to the west, south and north part of the Manor. Dobby had provided them with a map of the Manor that they had all memorised in addition to a special Port key that took them past all the Malfoy Manor's grounds' shields and booby traps. Lucius would finally regret the way he had treated his House Elves. Hermione thought it stupid of him to not know that the Light side would learn from Harry's kidnapping in his fourth year. If she had been him, she would have made it impossible to get inside his gates if you didn't walk. Fortunately, Lucius Malfoy was not Hermione Granger.

The Order had decided that a small force was more effective than fifty people storming into the building. Even though Hermione would have preferred having someone watching her back, she knew that they also had to use every man or woman they could spare in the upcoming battle with Voldemort and his minions. The Malfoy Manor might not have any defences against Port Keys, but it did provide four different places to store prisoners, and that was why Hermione was heading to the entrance to the dungeons alone. Hopefully she and the others would get the prisoners out of the Manor without Lucius ever knowing they were there…

"Ah, what do we have here?" a smooth, cold voice said behind her. Hermione ducked instinctively, but not fast enough to avoid the Stunning Spell that was cast on her. She knew no more.

*

Hermione woke up to the splitting headache that she had come to recognise as post-Stunning effects. She groaned.

"How nice of you to wake up," a deep voice said dryly to her left. She opened her eyes carefully and turned her head. "The guards left quite a while ago, you know."

"Snape?" she croaked. She noticed that she was hanging spread-eagle on a wall.

"Your observation skills never cease to astonish me."

"Am I in the dungeons?"

"What gave it away? The dripping water, the chilly stone floor? Or is it just the present company?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

"Well, really, Miss Granger, I would have thought even you would let a man on the brink of death have his last round of sarcasm."

"Are you dying?" The thought seemed to clear her head miraculously.

"No, but I probably will be when Voldemort comes back again. And I doubt it will be very fast, although it will be painful. That's one thing, I suppose."

"You're not the person I would have thought would be wallowing in self-pity, Professor, even if it is tinged with your usual sarcasm."

"I got tired of cursing myself for slipping." His voice was cold.

"Anybody can slip." Hermione wanted to say more, but she didn't want Snape to think that she pitied him. If there was one thing she had learned about Professor Snape, it was that he hated being felt sorry for. Snape didn't say anything, and Hermione decided to concentrate on the matters at hand. "Are we the only people in the dungeons?" she asked.

"Yes. Malfoy only uses the dungeons for Dark Revels and making me lose track of time. What date is it, anyway?"

"February the 3rd."

"Ah. Anyway, he has the prisoners he doesn't want to torture to death – not in the near future anyway - somewhere else. He wants to be nearer them, in case they tell the interrogators anything interesting."

"That makes it easier," Hermione said with some relief.

"Oh?"

"Then I won't have to rescue anybody else but you."

Snape barked a short laugh. "Oh, you're the rescuing party, are you? Where's the rest of your little trio?"

"Ron's in the Hospital Wing and Harry is on another mission. Do you know how thick this outer wall is?"

"It's no use trying to blow it away," Snape said. "You can't wield magic inside the cell – yes, I have tried. Besides, the dungeons are set in solid rock. Even if you could blow away the walls, there would be a mile of rock cutting us off from the surface. And do I have to remind you that we are chained to the wall?"

"I almost forgot," Hermione said sarcastically. "I guess that leaves the safety cottage."

"Safety cottage?"

"Yes, I have a Port key to a cottage designed as a last resort for escaping if I'm in a tight situation."

"Amazing how this house has more hexes than furniture, and they still forget to neutralise Port keys," Snape muttered. "How are we going to get to use it?"

Hermione flicked her left wrist in the handcuff and a ball pen fell into her palm. "I have one in my other sleeve too," she said to Snape, "just in case I had to use my right hand. I have to push down the button three times to activate it. Can you reach my hand?" She stretched her hand towards Snape, and heard him doing the same.

"Almost," he grunted. "If we were an inch closer to each other…"

"Wait. It takes five seconds for the Port key to activate. If I activate it first, and then you grip the other end…" Hermione carefully flipped the pen over so that it pointed towards Snape's hand. "Can you reach it now?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm activating it." She clicked the pen three times. She could feel the tingle of magic running through it. "Take it!" She felt Snape's hand grip around the point of the pen. A second later she felt the almost familiar pull of the Port key behind her navel, and the dark dungeon cell blurred out.

*

"Well," Hermione said and brushed the dust off her robes. "That went well." She looked outside and sighed. "Oh, poot. We're snowed in. We won't be able to get out until somebody comes to pick us up. Unless…" She felt up her sleeve and sighed. "Nah. They took my wand."

"Miss Granger," Snape said, an almost comical expression on his normally blank face, "I am well aware that had there not been a war going on you would still be my student. Considering the circumstances, though, I would like to inform you that you may use stronger words than "poot"." Hermione had the dignity to look a bit embarrassed.

"Yes, Professor." She looked around. "Well, it could be worse. At least there's some dry food, water and a bed here. Um." She risked a quick glance at Snape. He was staring at the one bed in the room. It was the only furniture in the room, actually.

"Why on earth is there no stove here? Why is there only one bed?" There was a strange tone in his voice that Hermione couldn't quite place.

"The safety cottages are supposed to be as inconspicuous as possible. They are hidden in the Forbidden Forest, because that's the closest we can come to Hogwarts without going inside the shields. You know we've placed an anti-Port key shield around the school grounds, too, don't you?"

"I was discovered by the Death Eaters a month ago, Miss Granger, not a year."

"Right. Anyway, to prevent being discovered by magical tracers, there's nothing magical in the cottages. We can't use wandless magic, either, because it can be discovered. There are no stoves because the smoke can be seen, and creatures living in the Forest might smell it." Hermione paused a little. "At least the walls are thick," she said, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Yes," Snape said sarcastically. "At least the walls are thick."

Hermione sat down on the bed, suddenly having an urge to sulk. "If you're going to give me that "Greasy Git" act, I'm not going to talk to you."

"Well, I'm sorry," Snape said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "but it's hard to stop when I've kept it up for twenty years."

"I wonder what Harry would have said if he heard us," Hermione said, smiling a little. "I knew you couldn't really be that horrible."

"What do you know abou-" Snape stopped in mid-sentence, turning to her with panic in his eyes. "Miss Granger, where is Mr. Potter?"

"He's gone off to try to kill Voldemort," Hermione said, a small part of her mind wondering how she could talk about it so matter-of-factly. "With some others, too."

"Is Albus with him?"

"Yes."

"Oh, gods…" Snape started pacing around the small room. "Is there any way we can contact him?"

"Well, yes…"

"Come on, girl, how?"

Hermione was getting worried. She had never seen the Potions Master so anxious before. She reached around her neck and fished out a necklace with an owl on it. She touched it and said, "Animato." The owl grew until it was the size of her fist and became alive. It looked at her quizzically. "Just hold on a minute," she said to it. She took the parchment that was tied to its leg rolled it out and turned to Snape. "Just tell the parchment what you want to say to Professor Dumbledore. It's a modified version of Dictopaper."

He took it from her grasp. "Albus," he said, and watched as the words were written on the parchment. "The key to defeating Voldemort is inside Harry Potter's head. Severus Snape." He thought a moment, then added: "PS: Miss Granger and I are in her safety cottage, snowed in. A rescue party would be much preferred." After making sure the Dictopaper had got it all down, Snape rolled it together and put it in the small cylinder on the owl's leg. "Take this to Albus Dumbledore," he said to it. He opened one of the windows, and the owl flew out.

"Wait a minute," Hermione said. "How on earth is Professor Dumbledore going to understand that stuff you said about the key being in Harry's head? What do you mean with it?"

Snape cursed. "He'll just have to understand," he said. "Some part of Potter's mind knows how to defeat Voldemort. Don't ask me how I came over that information, I'm still trying to forget it." He looked around a little, then his cold mask slipped on again. He hesitated. "I'll, ah, sleep on the floor, then, shall I?" 'Oh, great,' Hermione thought. 'He's wearing that expression he has when he gives me my assignments back. Like he just tasted a lemon.' She changed her position so that she had her back to the headboards of the bed, and tucked the comforters around her.

"Honestly, Professor," she said, taking of her boots and shivering in the cold hut now that the adrenaline had ceased galloping in her veins, "you could pick a better time to show your gentlemanly side. We are cold, this cottage – if you can call it that – is cold and you'll catch a cold if you are going to lie down on that floor. The least you could do is get into bed with me and do something to keep us warm." She blushed suddenly, realising what her words could imply. The corner of Snape's mouth quirked slightly upwards.

"Why, of course, Miss Granger," he said and sat down on the bed, "it is any man's dream to go to bed with a seventeen year old girl, in a cottage out in the desolate woods."

"Just turned eighteen," Hermione corrected him automatically, her blush still staining her cheeks red.

"What? Oh, yes, the Time-Turner in your third year." Hermione felt flattered that he would remember that – after all, she was a Gryffindor. "I've never met a student before that loved school so much that she would want to take more classes than she needed. I guess there is a very thin line between brilliance and lunacy." Okay, so now she wasn't sure to be more flattered or just pissed off. She decided to be angry with him, and turned her back to him in the small bed, trying to ignore the tiny voice shouting joyfully inside her head: "He complimented you! You, you, YOU! HE thinks YOU are BRILLIANT! Yes! Yes! Yes!" 'Or mad,' she reminded it, but it didn't seem to hear it. Hermione sighed and tucked the comforters around her. A moment later she could feel Snape lying down and his back coming in contact with hers. He tugged on the comforters. She clutched at them.

"Really, Miss Granger," Snape said, "can't we at least try to behave like the mature people we are and share the comforters?" She eased her grip a little. "Thank you."

As Hermione felt the bed heat up, her eyelids drooped and she fell asleep. Outside the snow was still falling, and the forest was silent.

*

"Professor?" Colin Creevey looked at Dumbledore. The group had retreated back to a rendezvous point for the night after ambushing a Death Eater-camp.

"Yes, Colin?"

"There's an owl that's trying to get your attention, sir."

Albus turned around, and caught the anxious owl out of the air. "Why yes, I believe there was. What have you got for me, then, little friend?" He opened the letter and skimmed through the contents. He looked up at the young man. "Colin? Would you fetch Harry for me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you. And Colin?"

"Sir?"

"Hurry."

Colin ran out of Albus' tent. The old wizard found a quill and parchment, and started to write to Madam Pomfrey, the acting head of Hogwarts.

*

Severus rose from the light doze he had called "sleep" for the last twenty years. Not that he had ever been anything but a light sleeper, but becoming a Death Eater had brought his almost-insomnia up to new heights. He looked down at the young woman that had somehow ended up in his arms. Yes, he could admit it to himself now: sometime during the year that had gone Hermione Granger had turned from just another girl in puberty into… something more. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but now…

Severus breathed in the scent of Hermione's hair, and slept.

*

"Professor Dumbledore? You wanted to see me, sir?"

Albus looked up into the worried face of the young man before him. "Ah, yes, Harry, do come in. It is cold out here, and it won't get any warmer with you letting out the little heat that is left, now is there?" He smiled kindly at Harry. "Do sit down."

Harry sat down in one of the chairs, idly noting that it was an exact replica of the one in the Headmaster's office and the one he always ended up sitting in when called up there. Fawkes flew over to the back of his chair, and stroked his head against his hair. Harry smiled gratefully at him.

"Now, to why you've been called here," Albus said, stippling his fingers and looking at Harry with intent eyes. He gave Harry a small letter. "I got this from Professor Snape a few minutes ago," he said. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

The first thing Harry noted was that, to his relief, Hermione was safe. The second thing- "Inside my head? I haven't the faintest what he means, sir."

Albus sighed heavily. "I was afraid so. Harry," he paused a moment, "could you let me inside your head for a moment?"

"What do you mean?"

"The solution, as Severus says, lies inside your head. It has probably been hidden somewhere, though."

"You're not going to…open my head, are you? I don't really want my brains to pour out by a mistake."

Albus chuckled. "No, Harry, I'm not going to enter you physically. I'm just letting a part of my awareness go into your head, so to speak, so I can sift through your memories and subconscious. I promise not to do anything. Could you let me do that?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Yes."

*

Half an hour later, Albus took a deep breath, opened his eyes and moved his fingers away from Harry's forehead. "How obvious," he murmured to himself. He looked at the young man sitting before him. "You can open your eyes now, Harry." Harry opened his eyes. "Did you feel anything…special?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head.

"It felt like I was sleeping, sir."

"Good. And before you ask, yes, I did discover the key to Voldemort's downfall. Unfortunately, it is locked away inside your mind. A bit ironic, really. I doubt you can ever know how to do it yourself, and it has to be done through you and your magical ability. I guess it was one of the precautions the Dark Lord took one of the times you were in his company. Alas, because of it, you yourself can't wield the spell. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "You want to control my body tomorrow. You know how to use it, because you're not me. And if you're in my body, you can use it."

"Exactly. Will you let me do it?"

"If it will defeat Voldemort for good? Of course."

"Good." Albus sat up a little straighter, as if a heavy weight had lifted off his shoulders. "You may go to bed now. We've got a long day ahead of us." Harry nodded and went towards the tent flap. "And Harry," Albus called after him. He stopped. "Please excuse a nosy old man for peeking, but- When we get back to Hogwarts, I'd counsel you to see Miss Weasley first thing. It might not be as hopeless as you think."

Harry blushed.

*

Dawn came through the woods as a lighter mist among the falling snowflakes. Hermione stirred and blinked drowsily. It really was very nice with this warm comforter around her and the air in the cabin so chilly in contrast- She looked down at the "comforter". 'Now, really. He didn't seem quite so welcoming last night… not that I mind…' Severus had, during the night, wound his arms around her, his right hand resting possessively on her left hip, his left lying just under her right breast. Hermione could feel his warm, lean body stretching along her back. 'This really is rather nice,' she thought contentedly. She tried to stretch a little, but the arms around her tightened. 'Okay, won't do that, you contact-craving…person.' Hermione eased slowly around. It was a bit hard with the tight grip Severus had on her, but finally she was facing him. She rested her head on his warm chest and fell asleep again.

*

"Professor! The Death Eaters are attacking us!" Colin shouted. Albus looked at the young man sitting beside him.

"Harry?" he asked.

"I can feel him," Harry said, a hand pressed against his scar. "He's with them." Albus nodded gravely.

"Then it is time," he said, and touched Harry's forehead. "You will have control over your body. I will just be hiding inside your head, and when the time is right…"

Harry nodded. "I understand, Professor." He steeled himself. "Okay. I'm ready." The venerable wizard nodded, and Harry could suddenly feel him in a small corner of his mind. With a grim look in his eyes, he stepped outside.

*

Severus hissed in pain. His left forearm felt like it was dipped in acid, and in his head he could hear a scream of rage, horrible and evil, echo back and forth. "Professor! Professor, you've got to wake up!" He snapped his eyes open, just to see the worried face of Hermione Granger.

"What happened?" he said hoarsely. The pain was slowly ebbing away, but it still hurt enough to make him consider amputation if it didn't stop soon.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "I just woke up because you were writhing so much and screaming."

"I was?" Through the haze of pain Severus' brain still registered puzzlement. He had never had such a vicious nightmare before – and that was saying something.

"Yes," Hermione said. She bit her lip. "Professor, could I look at your left arm, please?"

"Why would you want th- oh. Of course. You think this has something to do with Voldemort."

"Yes. Um, please?"

Severus hesitated. His Mark wasn't something he liked to show to other people, not even Dumbledore. It was the source of all his failures, and he didn't like to make it seem like a triviality. Slowly he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He turned his face away from Hermione, not wanting to see the disgust that was bound to be on her face.

"Professor, where is it?" Her tone betrayed her confusion.

"What the hell do you mean, "where is it"? Even Longbottom wouldn't have any problem spotting a red skull with a snake in its mouth!"

"That's just it, Professor… It's nothing there."

Severus yanked his arm out of her grip and looked at it. His eyes widened. "That's impossible," he whispered.

"Doesn't seem impossible to me," Hermione said, starting to smile.

"What are you grinning for?" Severus glared at her.

"Don't you understand? If you don't have any Dark Mark anymore, Voldemort must be dead!" He gaped at her, his head whirring with all the things that simple fact would change. Hermione flung her arms around him in careless joy. "You're free, Severus!" Severus stared at the young woman in his arms, and wondered if it was appropriate for him to kiss her. He suddenly felt very light-headed.

There was a scraping at the door. They looked at each other, and the happy bubble they had been in, safe from reality, went away with a "pop!". They moved away from each other. "Um, that's probably the rescuing party," Hermione ventured.

"Yes. Probably." Hermione felt a strange kind of loss as Snape slipped on his expressionless mask right before her eyes.

"I'll stand behind the door. You hide behind the bed," she suggested. Snape nodded and went behind the bed. Hermione placed herself behind the door. It burst open.

"Hermione?" came a familiar voice. Snape relaxed.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted and jumped from her hiding place to give him a tight hug. "You're well again!"

Ron grinned and hugged her back. "Oh, well, you know Madam Pomfrey. She knows her work." He looked at Snape with a mixture of disgust and respect. "You had to stay in a cottage overnight with him? Poor you!" Snape sneered at them and turned towards Hagrid, telling him that installing two beds in the safety cottages might be a good idea.

"Oh, it wasn't so bad, really," Hermione said. "He was rather nice, actually." She noticed an almost invisible quirk to Severus' lips for a moment. She smiled inwardly. He really was a bit handsome when he didn't have that cold, sneering mask on. Hopefully he would relax a little now that Voldemort was finally gone. And if he needed persuasion - she could always help. Somehow she didn't think that he'd mind.

***

Author's Note: I felt that the actual defeat of Voldemort didn't fit in with the way I wrote the story. To those who might wonder how I figured they could defeat him, I've tried to explane it: The love Lily protected Harry with against Voldemort the first time was still ingrained in him. Voldemort, who fed on hatred, rage and other dark feelings, did therefore have not as much success with the blood he took from Harry as he had hoped. Over time, the blood, that also had traces of the dormant love-protecting spell, started attacking Voldemort (though the spell wasn't technically in use), consuming his reserves slowly but steadily. His immune system couldn't do anything against it, since it was a part of his body by then. So, when Harry  met him at the end, he called to the borrowed blood (with the help of Albus) through a connection to his mother's spell (the "key" inside his head). It, recognising Harry's magical presence, flared to life inside Voldemort's body. Because it was the connection Voldemort had to his magical abilities, the blood didn't just insinerate his body, but also his mind and soul - the magic is so integrated in a wizard or witch's soul that there would be something missing if it went away. (Just my theory.)

Please review, it would make me very happy!