"Take them." Professor Snape pleaded in a whisper. He forced himself to focus on the importance of the information that needed to be conveyed to Potter. It was vital that the boy have his memories or everyone who had died for the sake of a peaceful world, especially Lily, would have died in vain. The Dark Lord would prevail. He must hold on a little longer, though the poison was biting at his veins, constricting his throat and stabbing his heavy heart. "Take them." He repeated, trying to impress his urgency upon the young man.

There was a flutter of motion, causing Snape to glance up at the young Hermione Granger retrieving a phial from a small bag. Looking at what a strong and resourceful young woman she had become, Snape felt a pang of guilt surge through him. He wished he could have been more kind to her. Did she know he was hard on her to help her try harder as much as to conceal his alliances? That each time he picked on her for her brilliance he really wanted to compliment her? Though she may be a Gryffindor, she was among the very few students he felt honored to have taught. If only he could tell her as much. He hoped his harshness towards her did not weigh her down from the bright future she had the potential to reach.

Potter was collecting his tears now, which drew his attention back to the boy. "Your eyes." Snape managed to choke out. "So like your mother's." Harry looked down at him in surprise and confusion. He would understand soon enough.

"Harry." Hermione's voice broke through their reverie. "Harry, get those to the pensieve. I've got to save him. Harry! There isn't much time!"

Even as he dragged himself away and to his feet, Harry's gaze stayed fixed on his potions teacher. The Half Blood Prince. An acquaintance of his mother. An old enemy. Victim of his father. Murderer of Dumbledore. He was equal parts nemesis and mentor. What would he see this time through Professor Snape's eyes?

Harry saw Hermione reach into her bag once more for yet another phial. This one held a light pink liquid. With trembling hands she twisted the cork out and put the phial to Snape's lips.

"Harry, go!" Hermione snapped. "Ron will help me here."

Finally Harry felt able to break from his swimming thoughts. With a determined set of his jaw, Harry jogged back through the secret entrance and past the languidly twitching branches of the Whomping Willow before sprinting to Dumbledore's office.

In the meantime, Hermione was attempting to get the contents of the phial down her professor's throat. "What is that, Hermione?" Ron asked much to her annoyance.

"It's an antidote." Obviously. She wished to add.

Ron's nose crinkled. "Since when do you have an antidote for snake venom? And why are you saving him anyway? I mean, he did kill Dumbledore and betray everyone."

Hermione was growing increasingly frustrated with Ron. He really was thick when it came to matters of the heart. "Since your dad got bitten I thought it was a good idea to have some on hand just in case. And it seems to me that Professor Snape just got betrayed himself. He may have done some horrible things, but for the sake of Dumbledore, I'm going to save him. It doesn't matter what he does, Dumbledore would still help one of his former teachers."

After a precious few seconds ticked by of unsuccessfully administering the antidote, Hermione let out a huff before barking a command. "Sit, Ronald."

Alarmed by her tone, Ron sat immediately. "Stretch out your legs." She ordered. He did as she bade and Hermione gently maneuvered Professor Snape to lay on his back, his head tilted back over one of Ron's legs. He seemed to be unconscious which was both a relief to her and a source of panic. He would not remember having to lay against Ron or her prying at his mouth, but he was also falling rapidly into worse and worse condition.

Hermione ensured that his head was only slightly tilted back and then squeezed his jaw between her thumb and fingers so it would remain open. Slowly she poured the antidote into his mouth and then closed his mouth so that he would have to swallow it. Nothing seemed to happen for a little while and Hermione began to help her professor work the liquid down his throat as he seemed to not be capable of doing so himself. With great care, Hermione massaged Snape's throat, forcing the antidote down so it could begin to heal him. If I'm not too late. Hermione admitted to herself. Please let it not be too late.

As she waited for the potion to do its work, Hermione turned her attention to the various bite wounds on Snape's arms, neck, and face. He was loosing blood rather quickly, especially from the bites on his neck. After rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning his collar enough to have free access to the wounds, Hermione grabbed the Dittany from her bag and sprinkled it over the wounds. To ensure that they closed properly, Hermione cast Tergeo to clear away the blood marring his skin. To her relief the flesh had been stitched back together nicely. She was also satisfied to feel Snape's pulse and breath, weak though it was. He was still holding on. Still, he was not in the clear just yet.

Putting the depleted Dittany and empty antidote back into her bag, Hermione stood and aimed her wand at Snape yet again to levitate him for ease of transportation. It was a pity they still couldn't apparate within school grounds. Ron scrambled to his feet next and followed Hermione out. "I don't get it, 'Mione. There are other people, our friends, we could be helping right now. Why are we wasting time with this greasy git?"

Hermione bit her lip, unable to think of a legitimate reason for doing this. She simply felt it was something she had to do. Instead she replied, "Madam Pomfrey and others more qualified than I are helping them already. And besides, if I don't help Professor Snape, I know no one else will."

"Exactly." Ron quipped. "Because he's a bloody traitor!"

They had reached the large, oaken doors to the entrance hall and Hermione paused outside. "Ron, why don't you stay with your family while I take Professor Snape to Dumbledore's office?"

"You're taking him there when he was the one to kill Dumbledore? And he's not a teacher anymore, Hermione. He's a no-good, filthy, double-crossing Death Eater! He's no better than Dolohov, or Bellatrix, or Greyback!" Ron's voice rose and trembled with anger. Hermione couldn't blame him. She really couldn't. The Death Eaters were taking pleasure in destroying everything that they held dear. They were the reason she had to make her parents forget her.

Hermione took a few steps towards Ron and put her hands on his shoulders. "You should go to your family, Ron. I'm sure they want to see you safe. I'll let you know what Harry sees in the pensieve."

Ron had refused to meet her eyes and when she was done talking, he pulled back in apparent disgust. "Fine. See you later, then." Without a second glance, he pulled open the doors to the Entrance Hall and stomped into the Great Hall. Though shaken by Ron's attitude, Hermione didn't stick around for long lest someone discover the injured Snape in her care. She would like to think that no one would wish to harm him in his weakened condition, but at a time like this, when loved ones were being killed, there was no telling what her fellow students and teachers might find themselves capable of.

Hermione tried not to look too closely at the faces of the fallen on her way up to Dumbledore's office. She would grieve later. Now she had things to attend to. Upon reaching her destination, Hermione stopped for a moment, wondering what Snape would have changed the password to or if Harry had even managed to get in. She did not have to worry long, however, as the stone gargoyle jumped aside, recognizing that her need was great and that she could be trusted.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she saw Harry with his head already submerged in the pensieve. Turning to her own affairs in the meantime, Hermione transfigured one of the nearby desks into a mattress and laid Snape gently upon it.

"Oh dear." Came a familiar voice from one of the many portraits. "What has happened to poor Severus?"

Hermione looked up, startled, to see a pair of half-moon spectacles twinkling down at her. Tears sprung unbidden as she looked up at his concerned face. She knew he would want to help Professor Snape. "Professor Dumbledore, sir. He-he's been bitten by… V-voldemort's snake."

Dumbledore's portrait self nodded gravely. "What has been done so far?"

Hermione related all the steps she had taken to save Snape and looked up at the previous Headmaster, unsure of what to expect.

"You must give him a blood replenishing potion. There should be stocks in the infirmary." He instructed her kindly. "Though, I would advise discretion, Miss Granger. I'm afraid many would not understand the situation, nor be as compassionate as you have been."

"Of course, sir." Hermione agreed, standing to do just as he suggested. It was then that Harry raised his head from the pensieve with a heavy exhalation of breath, a sorrowful mix of both sigh and gasp.

"Harry." Hermione greeted her friend with a hug. "What did you see?"

Harry's eyes flickered over to Snape's still form and then to the portrait of Dumbledore before looking back at Hermione. "Is Professor Snape…?" He left the question dangling, unable to finish it.

"I'm not sure if he'll recover, but he's alive." Hermione answered, surprised that he would ask with such emotion. He appeared to be worried, even.

Harry nodded and stared at the potions master once more, seemingly lost in thought. Hermione let him gather his thoughts before he spoke again. "Do your best to help him live, Hermione. He deserves at least that much. I only wish there was more…"

Hermione looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion and fear. "Harry?"

"You need to see his memories too. There was something in there for you." Harry said cryptically. "Just, not now. Where's Ron? I need to tell you both something."

"I told him to be with his family." Hermione replied, feeling a lump form in her stomach. She could feel something bad was coming.

"Then we need to go find him. Will Snape be alright on his own?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned to the portrait of Dumbledore. "You will watch over him, won't you, professor?"

"I will do all I can." Dumbledore assured them. "Anyone that cannot be trusted will not be able to come here. He will be safe, but only for a time. He needs the potion soon."

The two nodded and wasted no more time in going to their friend. As they reached the Great Hall, however, they soon found themselves lost in timeless horror: so many dead and injured laying in rows on the floor. Hermione and Harry had to force their eyes to search objectively for Ron. They spotted him with relative ease and jogged towards him. It wasn't until they were almost upon the group of Weasleys that they noticed that there was a fallen of their number laying at their feet. Harry and Hermione came to a dead halt. It was Ron who looked up and beckoned them over. Hermione ran forward to give him a hug while Harry was ushered forward by Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, dear, it's so good to see you safe!"

"What happened?" Harry croaked.

Mrs. Weasley's already puffy eyes glazed with tears. "Fred was in an explosion. He's in a bad way, but Madam Pomfrey says he's stable. All we can do now is hope."

Hermione swallowed a sob that threatened to tear through her throat. She couldn't show them weakness. Not when they were being so strong.

"On a good note," Mr. Weasley said, trying half-heartedly to help lift spirits. "Neville saved Ginny's life."

Harry now noticed a stricken Ginny, curled up next to Neville who had his arm around her protectively. To his surprise, it didn't bother him. Ginny would be left in good hands. "It's not that big a deal." Neville mumbled.

Mrs. Weasley gave the boy a thin smile. "You saved our daughter and avenged your parents. I'd say you deserve a little praise for that."

"You killed Bellatrix?!" Hermione gasped in shock.

Neville shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah."

Hermione could have kissed him for that. It was his deed to be done. "Thank you." She breathed, tears falling unbidden. The woman who had tortured her and her friends would no longer be a threat to them. She was gone forever.

Neville gave Hermione a small smile and looked at his feet. Harry wished he could prolong this moment with everyone that he had come to know over the best years of his life, but seeing as he was on Voldemort's time he had to withdraw. "Ron." Harry almost whispered. "Can I talk with you and Hermione… alone?"

Ron looked at his family to see if it was alright, though he mainly looked to George. George reached up from where he sat at his twin's side and patted his brother on the shoulder, nodding his approval. "Alright, mate." Ron answered and followed his friends partway up the marble steps just inside the Great Hall out of sight and earshot of anyone else.

They all stood in solemn silence, taking a moment to stabilize before they moved on to what they had to discuss. "I have to go." Harry said at last.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Ron asked suspiciously, nearly confrontational though he had yet to hear his friend out.

It's like they both already know. I'm sure Hermione does. Harry thought bitterly to himself. "I guess I've known for a while now. And I think you do too, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry she threw her arms around Harry and cried desperately on his shoulder, shaking with fear and grief. Why did that horrible wizard ever have to put his vile mark upon her friend? Why did it have to end this way?

"Known what?" Ron asked, though he was terrified of the answer, his stomach twisting in knots.

"I'm the final horcrux. That night Voldemort killed my parents he accidentally placed a piece of his soul in me." Harry answered stonily. "I have to go to him."

"No." Ron shook his head in disbelief. "No. No you don't! You can't! You can't let him win, mate!"

Harry reached out and squeezed Ron's shoulder. "I have to. Dumbledore knew it had to happen too."

Ron clenched his teeth. "We're going with you."

"No." Harry objected. "I have to do this alone. This time you can't follow."

It was so surreal saying goodbye. Harry didn't know how he managed not to give in to his cowardice and flee with his friends. He considered idly that this moment was one that distinguished more than any others the reason why he was better suited towards Gryffindor rather than Slytherin. As he walked stiffly to the Forbidden Forest, Harry remembered the ones he loved. He was doing this for them, and for his parents, and for Sirius, and for Dumbledore, for Mad Eye, and Cedric, and even for Professor Snape.