A/N: There is some dialogue nearer the end of this chapter taken directly from DH; obviously, anything you recognize belongs to JKR.

Thank you as always to my lovely beta, AdelaideArcher.

Chapter 21: A House by the Sea

The night we guaranteed Severus's survival, I awoke to him shaking next to me, his head buried into my mass of curls on the pillow above my head. The room was still dark with night, and I stirred warily, not sure what was wrong. His breathing was shaky, and then I heard him sniff.

Wait, is he… is he crying?

It seemed impossible, but then I heard a soft sob above me.

"Severus, what's wrong?" I asked.

He didn't answer me, but gripped me tighter, and so I hugged him in return, hoping he would talk to me.

"I'm going to live," he whispered hoarsely, as if the truth of his survival was finally hitting him.

"Yes," I said, peering up from between his arms. I could see several damp tracks on his pale cheeks, wetness stuck between his thick black lashes. He looked down at me, shame apparent on his face, which was twisted between joy and despair.

"It's okay, Severus," I said, scooting myself up so we were face-to-face and wiping away his tears with my thumbs. "You can cry in front of me."

"I—I never thought I would… I always thought it couldn't possibly be… that I didn't… I couldn't…" his voice trailed off, and it was one of the few times I'd heard him sound uncertain of his words.

"You deserve this, Severus," I said, somehow knowing what he meant. He shut his eyes and nodded, a few more tears leaking out from under his long lashes. I kissed his cheeks, salty and damp beneath my lips, and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"What happens after?" he asked, opening his eyes.

"After what? I asked.

"After the Dark Lord falls. What then?"

"Whatever you want happens," I said.

"Whatever I want," Severus repeated, as if the idea was completely foreign to him.

"Do you know what you'd like to do, Severus?" I asked curiously.

He shook his head, several strands of thin hair falling into his face, and I tucked them behind his ear.

"All I know is I want you," he said.

"That's a start," I said with a smile. "We could do anything. We could travel, or work, or get married and have babies."

Severus physically balked at the word 'babies.'

"You want to get married and have babies?" he asked incredulously, and I chuckled at how scared he looked.

"Well, not right away, no," I said, and he seemed to relax a bit. "But eventually I can see myself having a family with you."

"With me?"

"Yes, of course, with you. Who else would it be?"

"Someone else," he said. "Someone who would be a better husband, a better father."

"I wish you would stop thinking so little of yourself," I said with a sigh. "Look, we don't need to decide our whole future now. We have lots of time to figure it out. We can even change our minds."

Severus curled himself around me again, and I smiled. Part of me had expected him to push me away, but he pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair once more.

"I'll do anything as long as you're with me," he whispered, and I felt a pang in my chest at how fearful he sounded, as if I might disappear at any moment.

"I'll be with you," I said. "But I'm not making all of the decisions on my own, either. It's our future, Severus, not just mine. You have a say. You have a choice."

A shiver went through Severus's body, and I pulled the covers around us more snugly.

"We're going to be all right," I said. "Six weeks now."

"Six weeks," Severus mumbled. His chest was rising and falling now in a deep, even rhythm. I thought he would fall asleep, but instead he stirred again.

"Hermione," he said.

"Yes?"

"When this is over, will you still live with me?"

"I'd like that," I said. "Do you have another home? A house?"

"I do, but it was my father's house," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Your father?"

"Was an abusive drunk," he said bitterly. I'd figured as much from the hints in previous conversations, but frowned at his proclamation. "There are no happy memories in that house."

"The house in Cokeworth, you mean? I didn't realise you still owned it," I said.

"What was the point in buying something better? I was going to die before the war ended," he said. "It was also where I met her."

I didn't need to ask who 'her' referred to.

"What kind of house do you want, Severus?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation to something more positive. I hoped if he answered he might begin to realise he could have something more. I wanted him to dream, to see a future better than his past.

"Something with a large study," he said contemplatively.

"Yes, we'll have lots of books," I agreed. "What colour will it be?"

"Mahogany wood shelving," he said. "White walls."

"Not green?" I asked, and Severus shook his head.

"Bright white, with large windows that let in the sun in the morning."

"It sounds lovely," I said, the picture of our study blooming in my mind. "It will have a couch and two armchairs. Comfortable ones you can spend hours in."

"The chairs will be green," said Severus matter-of-factly.

"Then the ones in the living room will be red," I said with a grin.

"The living room?"

"You don't expect us to live permanently in a study, do you?"

"I suppose not. A living room then, and a kitchen."

"Three bedrooms."

"Two bathrooms."

"A garden for herbs and vegetables."

"A swing."

"A swing?" I asked curiously, thinking that very much sounded like something one would have for children.

"Yes, a swing in the garden," he said smoothly, not quite meeting my eyes.

"I see," I said, grinning into his chest. "What else?"

"I don't believe we've added a dining room yet," he said.

"Separate from the kitchen?" I asked.

"Yes, though the kitchen could have a smaller table," he said. "And of course I'd need somewhere to brew potions."

"Of course," I said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "And where is this future house of ours?"

"Cornwall, perhaps, or Devon? Somewhere near the sea," he answered.

"So nowhere near Hogwarts," I said with a chuckle. "Though I like the idea of living near the sea. Shell Cottage—that's where Bill and Fleur live—is lovely; it's right on the ocean, so there's always a breeze and fresh air."

"I'd prefer not to live near any Weasleys," he said sourly.

"Fair enough," I said. "Though you can't get away from visiting them altogether. They are my friends, and will be yours again too once everything is explained."

"Do you think so?" asked Severus.

"Yes, Severus. Trust me on this."

"What about your parents?"

"Do I think they'll like you, you mean?" I asked, and Severus hummed in affirmation above me. "Yes, of course they'll like you. If we tell my dad you're a ex-spy, he'll think he's won the son-in-law lottery."

At this Severus snorted, and I smiled, pleased that he hadn't balked at the possibility of him being a 'son-in-law' in the future. It was odd, of course, thinking of marriage when we'd only really been together for less than three months, but something about it felt right. It wasn't as if I was really going to run out and marry him the moment Voldemort died, but the thought of it happening one day felt good. If his dreams of a swing in the garden were anything to go by, it seemed his feelings were similar.

Distracted by our success and our dreams of our house by the sea, I forgot that the capture of Harry, Ron, and the other-me was imminent.

To be honest, I hadn't thought about my torture by Bellatrix much. I was surprised, actually, that I never had nightmares beyond the first few nights at Shell Cottage; but then there was still a war to win, Horcruxes to destroy. Severus was ample distraction after the Dark Lord fell, and reminiscing on my torture had seemed counterproductive to my goal.

However, it all came rushing back on a Sunday near the end of March. Severus and I were asleep when Severus awoke with a startled howl that jolted me awake. Even in the darkness I could see the whites of his eyes as he looked at me with a wide-eyed stare that spoke only of fear.

"The Dark Lord is coming," he said in a hoarse whisper, as if not willing to believe it, and I watched his Occlumency shields drop like a thick iron portcullis, his eyes going dull as his emotions were locked behind them.

"Coming? As in here? To Hogwarts?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes," said Severus. He looked at me, his blank expression contrary to his words. "Hide, Hermione. Don't come out for any reason. I don't care what you hear. Do not leave this room. I—I'll do my best to get him away from here quickly, but I do not know what he wants."

"All right," I said in a shaky voice.

We dressed together in silence, swiftly putting on our robes in the darkened room, and I pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak from its place in my drawer.

Severus nodded at me and went to the door, then turned to face me again. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Be safe," I said softly in reply. Then he was gone.

Huddled under the Invisibility Cloak next to the wardrobe once again, my fingers unconsciously traced the line permanently etched across my jugular.

I had calculated that last night was the night we escaped from Malfoy Manor, but could not fathom the reason why Voldemort was here at the castle now as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

If he'd needed Severus or wanted to punish him, why had he not simply called him away as he usually did?

He had reason to punish Severus, I realised: Dobby. The house elf was the one who Apparated us away from the Malfoy's. The house elf who worked for Hogwarts. Hogwarts, where Severus was the headmaster.

But it still did not explain why the Dark Lord was here.

I heard footsteps in Severus's rooms as the room began to lighten with the dawn.

"He's coming, Albus," said Severus in his office. "Do try and hold your tongue for my sake."

"Why, Severus, you act as if I'd purposely send you to slaughter."

"Is that not what you have done all these years? Should I show you the scars?" asked Severus angrily, and then, quickly, lowering his voice, "No matter. Please try not to infuriate the Dark Lord too much."

The rooms were quiet for a long while before I heard footsteps once more. Feeling sick to my stomach, I crouched under the cloak and waited, praying Dumbledore would do as Severus had asked.

"My Lord," said Severus from below. "Did you find what you needed?"

"I did, Severus, I did," said Voldemort, his voice like an icy winter wind, and that was when I realised that tonight must have been the night he stole the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's tomb.

"Ah, Dumbledore, how good to see you there," said Voldemort.

"Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "Still pursuing the wrong path, I see?"

"Is power so wrong, Dumbledore? We are not so different, are we, in our search of it?" asked Voldemort arrogantly. "Yet I seem to have bested you at that as well."

"You fail to understand the heart of things as usual, Tom."

"And yet you lecture me from a portrait," Voldemort hissed. "How does it feel, Dumbledore, to be forced to advise my servant as he sits in your old chair?"

Dumbledore did not answer and I felt a wave of relief even as Voldemort laughed, high and cold.

"See what power you have now!" he chortled icily. "Are you enjoying this office, Severus?"

"Very much, My Lord," said Severus smoothly. My heart ached for him, torn between his two masters. Not for much longer, I thought.

"I am lucky to have such a loyal servant as you, Severus," said Voldemort.

"I live to serve, My Lord." I knew his face would be as blank as if not a single feeling stirred inside him.

"Tell me, Severus, who lives to serve, what do you know of a house elf named Dobby?" Voldemort asked.

"He belonged to the Malfoys," said Severus. "Potter freed him by trickery in his second year."

"That he did," said Voldemort. "And yet I hear that for the past several years, he has been employed here at Hogwarts."

"Yes, My Lord."

"And do you know where Dobby was last night, Severus?"

"I do not, My Lord."

"Our dear Harry Potter and his friends were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor yesterday. And yet, when Bellatrix called me, it seems the elf came and scurried them all safely away."

"I—I am sorry to hear it, My Lord. If I had been there—"

"Ah, but you weren't, Severus," said Voldemort. "And yet the elf was. I am afraid, however, he will not be returning."

"That is excellent news, My Lord."

"Is it, Severus?"

"Yes, My Lord. I only wish that Potter and his friends were dead also. I yearn for your triumph."

There was a pause for several minutes, and then Voldemort spoke again.

"So you do, Severus. So you do. You'll be happy to hear, then, that Potter's Mudblood friend, at least, may not make it. Bellatrix had a little fun with her before I arrived."

"I am pleased to hear it, My Lord."

"And yet I find myself very displeased at Potter's escape," said Voldemort, a sliver of dangerous anger in his tone.

"I am sorry if I have displeased you, My Lord. I will do everything in my power to right it."

"That you will, Severus," said Voldemort coldly. "Crucio!"

My heart leapt into my throat as I heard Voldemort cast the Unforgivable. For several minutes, all I could hear was Severus's limbs thrashing against the floor. Then slowly, he began to groan, and his groan soon became a scream that ripped itself from his lungs.

His screams were like daggers that pierced my heart, and I bit down on my hand to stop myself from sobbing, even as the tears streamed down my face.

I wanted desperately to rip off the cloak and run down the stairs to help Severus. I yearned to blast the daggers from my heart into Voldemort's snake-like face and stop him from tormenting my love. Yet I knew I must remain under the cloak as Severus had commanded. To reveal myself now would put all our hard work and our futures at risk.

And so I listened to him scream under Voldemort's wand, and then to the hoarse coughs when he was finally released from the spell.

"Do we have an understanding, Severus?" asked Voldemort.

"Yes, My Lord," Severus croaked.

"Excellent," said Voldemort. "Come, see me out."

"As you wish, My Lord," said Severus, and I could hear him struggling to his feet. How Voldemort expected Severus to walk to the gates and back after being cursed for so long I had no idea. And yet somehow Severus managed it. His strength was unfathomable.

When I heard Severus return to his rooms thirty minutes later, I already had a selection of healing potions waiting on the coffee table.

I stood shaking near the door, listening to his footsteps stride across the room and up the stairs. They sounded firm and even, and I hoped that meant he was not seriously injured.

The door swung open in front of me, revealing Severus's tall form. His face was pale, his eyes wide, and my eyes quickly travelled over his form to check for blood, finding none.

"You're okay?" I asked breathlessly.

Severus strode forward, long fingers grasping my chin and forcing my head sideways, revealing the length of my neck and jaw.

The scar, I quickly realised.

"Bellatrix did this," he said icily.

"Yes," I replied. He dropped his fingers from my face and stood in front of me, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes flickering across my face.

"Show me," he said smoothly, and I knew he was asking to see what had happened.

"No, Severus," I stammered nervously. What benefit was there to showing him my torture?

"Show me," he demanded more firmly.

"Fine," I said, looking him in the eyes and trying to remember that night at Malfoy Manor.

"Legilimens!"

As Severus delved into my mind, the memory came forward, playing in front of my eyes like a movie, and I tried to force myself to stay calm.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback," said Narcissa, as I stood bound next to Harry, Ron, Dean and Griphook.

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply, her eyes wide and mad. "All except… except for the Mudblood."

I heard Greyback grunt in pleasure and a shudder of terror went through my body, knowing what was to come. I was going to be tortured, probably killed, possibly raped by Greyback. I did not want to die. But somehow my body was frozen; I was unable to speak, unable to move.

"No!" shouted Ron next to me. "You can have me, keep me!"

I was so frozen in fear, I didn't even flinch when Bellatrix hit him across the face with a loud, echoing thud.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she spat. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing to them — yet."

I managed a quiet whimper when I was cut free with a silver knife and Bellatrix grabbed me by my curls, dragging me into the middle of the room. It felt like my scalp was going to rip from my skull, she was pulling so hard, and I fell onto my knees when she let me go.

"How did you get into my vault?" she said, her eyes wild and rolling, shaking her wand at me, the knife in her other hand.

I knew I had to keep my mouth shut. I had to protect Harry and Ron. I had to protect our mission.

"Let's loosen your filthy tongue, shall we?" she hissed. "Crucio!"

The pain was practically unbearable. It felt like every nerve, every cell in my body was on fire, and I twitched uncontrollably on the floor, my limbs flailing. I couldn't stop the scream that ripped itself from my lungs.

I was vaguely aware of Ron calling my name as I writhed on the floor, and I clung to his voice with my mind.

When the curse stopped, I lay on the carpet. My body ached, but I was determined now: I would not tell Bellatrix the truth. I would die in Malfoy Manor before I betrayed my friends.

"Tell me how you got into my vault!"

"We didn't go to your vault!" I yelled.

"Don't lie to me, Mudblood! Tell me how you got inside my vault!"

"We didn't! We've never been there, I swear!"

I thought Bellatrix would continue screaming, but her mouth twisted into an insane, toothless smile and she bent over my body, waving her silver knife in front of my face. I looked past the knife and into her eyes. I was not going to flinch. I was not going to let her win.

"You are a liar," she hissed. "The truth, now!"

I said nothing, but continued to stare at her gaunt face. Her large eyes looked like a rabid, hungry dog's, and all I could feel was a deep pity for the deranged witch.

"You are a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault in Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

With a swift motion she drew her knife downwards, slicing across my chest at the same time as she flicked her wand to release another curse. Again, I screamed, the cut not even a thought as I thrashed against the floor.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or I swear I shall run you through with this knife!"

"We didn't take anything," I said hoarsely.

She was spitting mad now, and didn't wait before slashing across my breast and sending a swirl of blue light that made my arms and legs feel like they were being pulled from their sockets. The pain was unbearable, and I thought for sure my body was going to break against the pressure.

She only released me for a moment, screaming "What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!" before I was writhing on the floor again.

I struggled to open my eyes, to pay attention to what she was saying. I was desperate to stop the pain, but I had to last as long as possible, or else Ron would be next.

Think, Hermione, I told myself, think! Do it or your friends are dead!

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" shouted Bellatrix, pacing in a circle around me as I lay crumpled on the floor.

"We only met him tonight!" I choked. "We've never been inside your vault… it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

I didn't know where the lie came from, but I grabbed it hard, praying she would believe me.

"A copy? Oh, a likely story!"

A male voice came then, but I could not see who it was, my vision blurring as if I stared at the world through three feet of water. But I saw Bellatrix's raven form pause as the man said, "But we can find out easily! Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not."

The goblin! No! If he told them the—

But I didn't have time to finish my thought before Bellatrix had flicked her wand at me once more, sending me into another spiral of pain. My head and limbs rattled against the ground, and I felt myself slipping away.

Stay awake, Hermione! You have to live. Think of Harry and Ron. They need you, Hermione. Pay attention!

I could no longer move my limbs, and my vision swam as I attempted to open my eyes. I finally forced my eyelids open when I heard the shuffling of feet from across the room. I couldn't see who it was, but knew it must be Draco bringing Griphook back from the dungeons to examine the sword.

I forced myself to turn my head, though the pain in my neck was excruciating, and I found the goblin. Bellatrix was yelling at him to examine the sword and confirm if it was a fake.

"Tell the truth, goblin! Is it a fake or not?" she shouted.

Griphook glanced at me and I stared back at him with wide eyes, praying he would get my unspoken message.

Please, I begged, unable to speak. Please, please tell them it's a fake.

"Now!" shrieked Bellatrix, slashing her wand through the air so that a cut exploded on the goblin's chest.

The glittering silver sword suddenly appeared in Griphook's long fingers, and there was a loud bang from somewhere below.

"What was that?" came the man's voice again, and this time I realised it was Lucius Malfoy. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

"Draco—no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!" ordered Bellatrix.

I hadn't realised so many people were in the room. My terror and then the pain had narrowed my focus to the deranged witch who held the wand and knife towards me and the goblin who held my life in his hands along with the Sword of Gryffindor.

My vision was blurring fiercely now, as if I was watching static on TV. My arms and chest ached where Bellatrix had cut me, and my nerves still felt as if they were being held over hot coals.

I put all my will into my hearing, determined to find out if Griphook would confirm my lie.

If I had not been so weak, I would have cried when he said, "No. It is a fake."

I let my eyes slip closed when he confirmed it a second time at Bellatrix's request, and I heard him grunt before Bellatrix shouted, "And now we call the Dark Lord!"

Panic rose inside me at those words, but I could not seem to force my eyes open again.

We need to destroy the Horcruxes first! Awake, Hermione, awake!

"And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" came a shout, followed by several others.

Ron! Harry!

I could hear shouts and bangs, the casting of spells, and then I was hoisted roughly upward, my limbs dangling weakly. For a blessed moment I believed it to be Ron or Harry coming to my rescue, but then a piece of cold metal was pressed against my throat, a line of pain welling beneath it, and then I was falling to the floor. Suddenly, there was nothing.

The memory faded from my vision to be replaced with Severus's face. He looked livid; his jaw flexed dangerously and a vein throbbed in his forehead, his black eyes piercing into mine.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he hissed.

"I couldn't, Severus," I said, tears dribbling down my cheeks, though I didn't know when I'd begun to cry. "It wasn't important."

"Wasn't important?" Severus asked furiously. "Wasn't important? You were almost killed!"

"But I wasn't!" I yelled, trying to force myself back to the present.

Severus seethed in front of me. For a moment I thought he might scream, but then he twirled in a billow of ominous black robes, his long strides marching back and forth in a semicircle through the room.

"Your other scars, are they all from her?" he spat as he crossed in front of me.

I swallowed and took a breath in an attempt to right myself, and focused on his billowing black form.

"No," I said. "The long one on my back is from Dolohov, from the end of fifth year. Some are from later."

He followed this quickly with another question: "What happened after you blacked out?"

"Why does it matter, Severus? I survived," I cried. It was bad enough he'd made me watch the memory again. I didn't want to dwell on how much it hurt, what might have happened if Griphook had said the sword was real, or if Ron had not come bursting to my rescue when he did. Most likely I'd be dead. I didn't want to tell him about the first few days at Shell Cottage. I'd moved on since then; there were more important things that needed my attention.

"It matters!" Severus screamed, his eyes wide, cloak billowing out behind him in waves. "You were tortured, Hermione! It matters!"

"I was tortured and I survived! I survived, Severus! That's what matters!" I shouted.

"It's not all that matters!"

"Yes it is! You know it is!" I screamed. "You've been tortured too! You deal with it! You move on!"

"YOU NEVER MOVE ON!"

Severus stopped pacing, twirling in place and gliding towards me. He stopped at arms length and bent forward so we were face to face.

"You never move on," he hissed between clenched teeth. "It never goes away! Do not lie to me!"

"I—" I stammered, realising that once again he was talking about himself. He always seemed so calm about his beatings from Voldemort; it never occurred to me that he was so affected by them.

I took his face in my hands, allowing my breath to still and attempting to force my love through my fingers and eyes. "I understand, Severus. I know it's impossible to forget. Every time you look in the mirror, every time you get a flashback and see your scars you remember. But you're wrong about moving on. After this, you are going to move on, Severus."

Severus attempted to shake his head, but I held it firmly in my hands.

"No buts, Severus," I said firmly. "Come to the couch and tell me about our house."

I dropped my grip and he followed me to the sofa, where I curled up next to him. His arm around me, he began to describe our house in detail.

"It has a large kitchen with tall windows that look out onto the garden…"