(this is mostly to catch up to my story from the end of the last book. spoilers abound, so be forewarned.)
That night at the school, when Dumbledore ended his existence..they thought they knew everything. They thought the truth aws so clear now, so obvious. They thought they had a plan, a reason, a purpose. They didn't know anything.
From the moment Dumbledore captured the first Horacrux, he knew he was dying. So did Severus. They knew that only an agonizing death waited and DUmbledore also knew that Draco could be so much more than a Death Eater, so much more than a Malfoy. He knew in his heart, that boy would rise above his family name. So Severus did what he always did, the right thing. Yes, in the end, he did the right thing. He made an oath, a promise to a friend and a mentor. "Severus..you know what must be done. And you know that boy cannot be allowed to do it. It would be the final step in his path to darkness. Save me, and save him"
God help him, Snape did what he had to. He cast down Dumbledore and drug Draco from the school. Rescued him. Although he did not take him home, not to his mother or father. No, he took him to the only safe place he knew. The Order of the Phoenix. There was a midnight meeting, while poor Draco sat scared on the bottom step at Sirius' house. Seeing Dumbledore die had done it's job. He now wanted nothing more than to hide until his father forgot he existed. The mark on his arm itched and he was terrified they could use it to find him. It wasn't permanent, he knew it wasn't, but it frightened him just the same.
By the time Harry, Hermione and Ron had returned, the meeting was over and the decision had been made. Draco was to be hidden, for the time being. He was a liability and his life might very well be in danger. So Severus had left with Remus to take the boy to Romania. It was a temporary solution, but a solution nonetheless. That summer, Harry and his friends searched for the Horacruxes, until they had all but Voldemort himself. The wizarding community was divided, those that served the dark lord and those that fought for the right. In the darkest hour of night, the battle raged. Death was everywhere. Ron watched as his oldest brother was killed, and Lucius Malfoy was hit with an unforgivable curse from Hermione herself. Once the battle had ended, for all but the two who's destinies intertwined, Hermione helped Ron in gathering the survivors and leading them to safety as the two wizards battled to the death. In the end, Voldemort's charred remains lay on the ground before Harry's feet, and the scar on Harry's forehead suddenly flared a brilliant white before fading forever. It was over. The remaining Death Eaters scattered, most of the head ones were dead as well. The rest were soon gathered up by the Ministry, tried and sentenced to life in Azkaban. Slowly the wizarding community returned to normal. Ron was being courted by numerous girls and Quidditch teams; he finally realized he just wasn't that great of a wizard. Harry had joined the ministry, and moved in with the Weasley's. He couldn't bring himself to stay in Sirius' home, it seemed so empty and cold without him. The house was preserved as a safe haven for any wizard in trouble. Or house-elf. Oddly enough Kreacher had grown rather fond of Hermione, so she found it common to stop by and torment him as he loved so much. His grumbling had frown rather affectionate, and even when he called her a stinking Muggle, she knew he meant it with love. Hermione had found herself spending more and more time there, simply for the peace and quiet. She had a room upstairs, where she spent many nights writing and working on spells. This house had become her sanctuary, and although he was absent, she felt Sirius' presence in every room. What was depressing to Harry was a comfort to Hermione. She missed the old days, her friends were grown up and they had all found their paths in life. Hermione's was just one less travelled. She was lonely, plain and simple.