I do not own Harry Potter, or anything like it. T-T

SesshLG: Okay, I'm going to warn you here and now-there are a lot of direct quotes from the book, especially in chapter 3. So don't sue me!

Ron: Reads over story WTF? My name's mentioned, like, once or twice in the whole thing!

Severus: This isn't about you anyway; it focuses on me.

Ron: cries

SesshLG:...anyways...let's start the story...

Chapter 1

They were coming.

I raised my head from the desk that I had worked at, known, for so long, my sensitive ears picking up the sounds that were coming in muffled voices from the floors below. My eyes saw almost nothing-it was a dark night.

BAM!

I stood up quickly as the door reached the wall with a warning thud. The Charms professor-Filius Flitwick-flew into my office, gasping for air. I kept my normal façade as he squeaked to me, "Severus! Come with me…help us, please…there are death eaters attacking Hogwarts!"

'Forgive me, Filius.'

"Sev…Severus, please. Minerva asked-"

'STUPEFY!'

I watched solemnly as my colleague hit the floor, unconscious. 'But,' I reasoned with myself, 'it's better this way.'

Sidestepping the dwarfish body, I swept out of my office, only to confront the young Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood.

Luna Lovegood had always seemed…odd, to say the least. But there was a deep intelligence behind that face that few could see.

Miss Hermione Granger. The know-it-all that all teachers adored, myself included, I must admit grudgingly. She was no teacher's pet, not like the young Mr. Malfoy, just determined and willing to share. A muggle-born and a Gryffindor-that should by itself make me refuse to stand her presence.

And it does.

Yet, I cannot resist caring for her.

But such a brilliant mind, and a determination not unlike my own younger self, blinded by an infatuation for the youngest Weasley male is such a waste. I do hope she will make a better choice than him. Someone who could hold his own against her in an intellectual debate, not gossips of Quidditch.

It pains me to say that if I were about twenty years younger, I would not refuse a relationship with her. Pity she's not a Slytherin.

Brushing all out of my mind I said to the two young women with a feigned venom, "Professor Flitwick has collapsed. Instead of standing there like two nitwits, you should think about going in there and take care of him. I must go on the much more dire task of engaging in battle."

With that, I swept up the marble stairs. My billowing robes pointed to where my heart wished it could be, but my wand pointed to where I was fated.