A/N: Just a reminder, I go on Christmas break on Friday. I think this is going to be my last update for a little while unless I get very ambitious in the next two days and write the next chapter. We shall see. Please enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Five: Love's Tragedy

Dear Severus,

My anxiety grows the longer you and Miss Granger are away, but I'm glad to hear that you are both still doing well. I had hoped that you would have returned by now, but I understand your dilemma, and I wholeheartedly agree that waiting until the next moon passes is the wisest course of action. Only one week remains, and I send my best wishes that you both remain unharmed as before.

Please convey my wishes to Miss Granger. I am happy to know that she seems to have come to terms with the newest development in her fate, though I held no doubt that she was more than capable of handling this situation like the adult that she is. I remain, as always, confident in her ability to solve any problems she may face, with your help and expertise of course, Severus.

On a less serious note, I must admit that I am indeed impressed that you have managed to make it two months with the girl you call…what is the phrase you use, Severus? Oh yes…an insufferable know-it-all. I confess that I've been guilty of worrying as well as tittering over the numerous hiccups you two might encounter (or may have already encountered) on your journey. I admit that sometimes I find musing of such scenarios to be quite amusing after a long day. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor, trapped together for two months. I doubt you find it very humorous, but I certainly do!

I can practically picture you rolling your eyes, and hear your angry retorts, which I am sure you will bombard me with upon your return, but I simply had to get that off my chest. I think I deserve to torment you every once in awhile, since Albus is no longer around to do so.

Good luck on the remainder of your trip. May you both come back to Hogwarts safe and sound.

Best Wishes,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

Severus did roll his eyes. Of course Minerva would revel in the idea of him stuck with the annoying little chit for two months. And perhaps under any normal circumstances, he would be annoyed. But given their current situation, Snape found that he didn't really care what the Headmistress thought. No matter what her musings entailed, Severus was sure he'd be the one getting the last laugh when he saw her face after he told her what had, in fact, transpired between the two on this excursion.

If you only knew, you proud, pompous old hippogriff.

He gave a conspiratorial smirk of sorts as he stood, watching the sun rise a bit higher in the sky that morning. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since he and Granger's revelation of the soul, and even Snape could find no reason to persecute the day. He was, for the moment, content and…yes, possibly even happy, if Severus Snape was capable of feeling such an emotion.

The two of them had spent the remainder of the previous day in a kind of quiet, peaceful state. They hadn't talked much. Instead, they had felt comfortable and content to remain cloaked in a sort of glow that neither one had even come close to experiencing before. They had added yet another leaf of Wolfsbane to the potion, though Snape remained sure that they would not really need to make use of it. He had, however, told Hermione that he wished to stay the last week in order to test his theory, in the hopes that they would, as McGonagall had put it, remain as unharmed as the last time they had shifted. But then again, he had to give another sort of smirk because he knew the headmistress was still ignorant of his fate, and subsequently, his new relationship with Granger.

Snape had, much to Hermione's pleasure-and his as well-slept with her in the tent that night. He had charmed the bed to be able to more comfortably accommodate the both of them, and they had yet again indulged in intimacy before finally getting a fair amount of sleep. As it were, Snape had risen early and had left Hermione to rest a little longer while he reveled in the beautiful morning, his eyes now reopened to the true wonders of life. He had a reason to live again.

That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't still the same old Snape. He was who he was, and he couldn't promise that he'd change his snarky ways, even to please Granger. He couldn't promise her that he'd like her friends, though, of course, he would attempt to be more civil with them. It really would not do to make the girl angry with him over the two dunderheads he severely disliked, and cause her to regret her decision. But nevertheless, he would not, for the most part, change his Snape-like ways. He may care for Hermione enough to let her see a softer side, but he'd be damned if he'd let the rest of the world think he'd turned into a goody-goody, love-struck, sentimental old fool. That just wasn't him. Never had been, never would be.

No, the rest of the world would still be subject to his ill-tempered ways. As long as Hermione accepted him for who he really was and didn't expect him to change on her behalf, which she had assented to, then he could live with the rest.

Hermione poked her head out of the tent, her eyes immediately finding Snape. He stood, staring out at nothing in particular, and she knew he must have been lost in thought. She couldn't stop the smile that formed upon her lips as she silently stepped from the tent and walked over to join him.

His head turned as soon as those invisible strings started to twitch and pull in her direction, and he gave a small smile as well.

"Good morning," she almost whispered as she drew nearer. She felt happy and giddy, but she was still a bit afraid of looking foolish to him. She attempted to keep her silly emotions in check, but inside, she felt the love and excitement bubble up.

Geez, Hermione, you'd think you were thirteen again!

Snape nodded, his eyes drawn to hers. He fought more of a smile when he was able to read her giddiness quite easily, though she tried so hard to conceal it. When she at last stood by his side, she placed a soft hand on his arm, her attention flickering to the folded parchment in his hand.

"What did she say?" Hermione asked, a bit curious.

"Once again, nothing of great importance, though she is getting a laugh every now and again at the thought of you and I constantly quarreling."

Hermione blinked, then gave a small laugh. "Well, we did do a bit of that, and despite our new connection, I'm positive we'll have more disagreements. We are still so very different from one another."

"Personality wise, yes," he conceded.

Her smile faded as her mind wandered. "Profess…Severus…when we go back…it'll be awfully noticeable. We can't exactly…hide what's happened between us. Not with these…" She touched the gem of her collar, which gave off a constant, dim glow. She frowned.

"I don't intend to attempt to keep it a secret," Snape replied, his eyes facing forward, out across the stream and far beyond the other bank. "Our first stop upon returning to Hogwarts will be the Headmistress's office. Then, we will inform her of our circumstances."

"You mean…there's no rule against this? You are still my teacher…"

"Technically, you should have graduated last year, but you, Potter and Weasley returned as closer to apprentices. Your skills are far more advanced than the other seventh years. Besides, you are of age. You have been for quite some time. There are no restrictions on whom you have relations with. And even if there were, the Hearts are now in effect. There is no reversing it."

"Oh…oh no…" Snape's neutral expression changed instantly to a heavy frown as Hermione placed a hand over her mouth, her eyes now looking away from him and out of focus. "Oh, how am I going to explain this to Harry and Ron?"

Severus closed his eyes, suppressing an agitated growl. "I asked you before hand if you had any doubts. You better not say that you do now."

"No! No, don't be silly!" Hermione hastened to reassure him. "I have no regrets about what's been done…I just know that it'll be…difficult…to explain it all…"

Snape was aware of the fact that Potter and Weasley still didn't like him much, and that was fine by him. Snape wasn't any fonder of them, either. Admittedly, he'd grown to at least care enough about The Boy Who Lived to be glad that he hadn't died in his final battle. Snape had been sure that he would. But he still saw Harry as the very bane of his existence; the reason for his forced servitude to two wizards who had, ultimately, used him. He and Potter did, however, manage to maintain a mutual respect for one another. As for Weasley…well, actually, Snape couldn't say his feelings toward the boy had changed. The redhead was still an idiot in Snape's book.

But they were Hermione's friends. So, naturally, he would not force her to choose between them and him.

"They are your friends, yes?"

"Yes. My best friends. Surely you know that."

"Then, I am sure they will understand. Though it will no doubt take a bit of time."

"You're right…Well, at least, I know Harry will come to understand…but Ron…"

Snape's eyes shifted to her, and he saw the sadness, plain as day, on her face. That familiar flicker of jealousy rose up within him, but he quelled it. He had nothing to be jealous of anymore. "He will get over it, I am sure."

Hermione didn't say a word. She was lost in her own thoughts about her friends, anxiety starting to churn in the pit of her stomach. How would they react? Could she count on them to truly understand? Would they resent her?

Severus could see that her worry wasn't receding. If anything, it was growing stronger. He knew he had to keep her mind off of the subject of breaking the news to her friends. His fingers touched her arm, and he succeeded in acquiring her attention.

She saw a small smile adorn his handsome features, and when he stepped back, lightly tugging her arm, she obeyed his silent command to follow him. Her anxiousness faded as they wandered away from the camp for a slow, relaxing walk, Hermione's hand in the crook of Snape's arm.

The two were quiet as they wandered the peaceful forest together, and Hermione once again found her eyes trained mostly on Severus. He had changed since they had been bound by the Lycan Hearts. He was still Snape, but he was not simply a dark presence, foreboding and ominous. Hermione supposed that he was still those things, but he seemed…proud; something she could safely say he'd never felt before.

For Severus Snape was not a proud man. He'd never in his life done anything that had instilled in him a sense of pride and accomplishment. Even playing his part in ending the wizarding war had not been enough. But then and there, with the woman who'd claimed his heart and could nurture it, too, he felt it well up inside him.

To receive Hermione's love and trust was something he was proud of. He conceded that he must have been doing something right.

After awhile of walking, Snape stopped, his eyes fixated on something above him. Hermione tilted her head as she watched him curiously, finding him fighting a smirk. Her eyes narrowed as his black irises flickered to her face.

"What?"

"I seem to remember the last time you tried this, you fell on your arse…care to try it again?" he offered, obviously presenting her with a challenge. Finally, Hermione followed the angle of his head and saw a large branch, and she remembered trying to jump up onto one before and failing.

"Thanks for reminding me…" she muttered as he stepped out of her grasp.

"Come now, I would have thought you'd like a bit of a challenge," he intoned before turning his attention back to the tree before promptly leaping up into its boughs. Crouched on the large branch, he cast his sights over his shoulder to the girl standing beneath him. "Let's see what you've got." He gave her another smirk which served it's purpose of inflaming her bruised pride.

Hermione stared up at him, her eyes hardening at his words. It was true; she needed to test her abilities again to see if she could keep up with him. She was one month older than he in terms of their werewolf status, and yet he was far more advanced.

Well, what have you got to lose? He's already watched you land in a heap once. The worst you can do is do it again.

Closing her eyes, Hermione inhaled deeply, preparing for the jump she was expected to make. Snape's words echoed in her head; his lecture on letting go of her fear of the wolf inside. And she had to admit that if she'd submitted to the wolf in order to become bound to Snape, then allowing herself to become more agile should be easy enough. So, with a silent prayer to higher powers, she opened her eyes, bent her knees, and took the leap.

In a split second, she was crouching next to her dark lover in the treetop, a triumphant smile slowly spreading from ear to ear. Snape chuckled quietly as their eyes met, but his smirk only grew.

"Very good, Granger. Now let's see how you really match up against me…"

Hermione blinked, and in that fraction of a second of darkness, he was gone from beside her, already bounding from one branch to another around the forest. She shot into action as soon as her brain caught on to his new challenge, and soon she found herself chasing after Snape in the same manner. It didn't take much time to catch up to him, and when they were leaping side-by-side, she scowled.

"You could have at least said go! You cheated!"

"I'm not positive why you took me for a man who plays fairly, but you'd best rethink your opinion."

"Obviously," she returned, sticking her tongue out at him a moment later.

Big mistake on her part (or maybe it played in her favor).

He stopped his race, and instead, turned to Hermione, grabbing her before dissolving into the black smoke of his adapted apparation. He descended and wound around a few obstacles before landing, pinning Hermione to the trunk of a towering willow, his hands on the bark on either side of her head. He buried his nose in her soft curls and inhaled with a low, sensual growl. Hermione shuddered when he whispered darkly into her ear.

"Tempting me now, are you, witch?" She felt his lips upon her temple and her eyelids fluttered as she attempted to stifle a pleasurable sigh.

"Tempting…?" she questioned, confused.

"Yes, you heard me correctly…You little minx."

"I…I don't know what you're talking about…" she breathed.

His lips brushed against hers, his dark optics trained on her closed eyelids as he felt her pulse thrum through his entire being. "That delicious, pink tongue of yours…" His own tongue darted out to lick her slightly parted lips slowly, enticingly, and Hermione's insides tingled.

She could not stop herself from reacting naturally to his advances. She moved her head closer until her mouth was wrapped around his tongue, and they were suddenly locked in a hot, wet kiss. Hermione's hand tunneled into Snape's raven mane, and he pressed the hard planes of his body against her soft, feminine form. She breathed into him, and he replaced her breath with one of his own.

As her other hand massaged his shoulder, Severus deepened the heated exchange, a low rumbling beginning in his chest. A few long moments later, Hermione broke away for air, tilting her head back against the tree.

"As if you're not severely tempting me right now…"

"You started it," he said with another dark chuckle.

"I don't think so, Professor," she emphasized. "But I can…surely…finish it."

X-X-X

For the next nights, the two slept together in the tent, just as they had the night before. Hermione was glad that Snape had decided to join her rather than choosing to remain outside, though now she understood why he'd preferred to keep his distance. She often laughed at his ever-changing moods-to herself, of course. One moment he was loving and seemed to have eyes only for her, then the next, something would trigger his usual snark.

Hermione didn't take offense to this. At first, she had been mildly alarmed, wondering if the pendants had been wrong. But then she smartly came to the conclusion that he was still Snape. And honestly, she wasn't real sure she wanted him to change.

He would surprise her at times, however. When he would go off by himself, he would occasionally return with an interesting flower for her. One evening, he'd stood behind her like a silent angel, brushing her hair as she sat before the fire. On another day, he left for so long that Hermione had become worried, only to return with a smirk, tossing her a new romance novel he'd acquired from the bazaar where he'd picked up the pendant.

"I took the liberty of reading a bit of it before I bought it just to make sure you'd…"feel good"…when you read it," he'd teased with a wicked grin.

Hermione had blushed, clutching the book to her in embarrassment. She wasn't real sure she liked that look on his face. Something told her the book wasn't a traditional romance.

She'd read it regardless, but only while he was away, deciding as she did so, that she would use some of the scenarios in it to surprise Severus when he would least expect it. She smiled mischievously to herself as she replaced the main characters in the story with she and her dark lover. The pleasurable reading usually set the fire in her belly ablaze, and by the time Snape returned, neither one could resist the pull, nor the smell, of her arousal.

Now it was the night of the full moon once again, and Hermione sat before the fire, just as she did each night. Only this time, her thoughts weren't as beautiful as they usually were. She stared blankly into the flames, her knees up to her chest, her arms resting crossed upon them.

She felt his fingers delve into her bouncing curls as he came up behind her, her anxiety undermining the sweetness of the gesture. Snape held a rose in one hand which he charmed to take on black petals with bright red tips. He gently parted the hair on one side of her head and placed the delicate flower behind her ear, though his dark eyes were concerned.

"What's the matter, Hermione? You've been quite all day, and you've barely looked in my direction. You haven't even cracked open one of your precious tomes."

She was lucky to register his voice, though she wasn't trying to ignore him. Her thoughts had simply been elsewhere.

"I'm sorry…I guess I'm just…worried. About tonight."

"You have nothing to fear, darling," he said gently as he continued to thread his long, pale fingers through her golden-brown tresses.

"I don't know…I'm not so sure. I mean, clearly the Hearts work…But how do we know we won't… Last time, maybe we just got lucky."

Snape stepped around the log and grabbed a few more branches to toss into the fire to keep it going, his eyes focused on her rather than the task at hand. "I don't believe it was luck."

"But what if you're wrong? We don't really know, do we? If we can't remember anything, how can we be certain nothing did happen? Or that nothing won't?"

"I suppose there is no way to be positive of what has happened, or what has yet to occur. Yet I have reason to believe that all will be well on this night, as well as on the night of every full moon that follows. I am not one to put stock in faith, but I remain confident that this…will be different."

He sat down beside Hermione as she let her legs down, placing her hands in her lap with a sigh. "I dunno…I just…can't shake the fear…" She turned to him with desperate eyes, begging him to understand her concern. "I'm scared…"

Snape placed his hand on hers, gazing back into her honey-colored orbs with a sureness Hermione wished she could feel. "I'm sure nothing terrible will happen with this transformation. But if it does, Hermione, we will work through it together."

The witch bit her lip in uncertainty. "Do you think…Do you think you should write to McGonagall?" she asked. "Just in case…? What if something happens to one of us? What if one of us…? Then we'll both be…And no one will ever know…"

Severus frowned, seeing that she was on the verge of tears. He had come to realize that, although she was a very strong, prideful witch, she had a tendency to let her emotions get the better of her, which often times led her to cry. He took her into his arms, wanting to quickly dispel her fears. She leaned into him to return the embrace, letting the wetness fall silently from the corners of her eyes.

"Hush, Hermione. Everything will be alright. We are not going to die…We will greet the night cordially, and it will pass. We will be back at Hogwarts tomorrow morning."

Later that evening, Hermione stood in the center of the clearing, her eyes watching the moon as it rose higher and higher in the sky. She'd packed away the tent, and they'd put away the Wolfsbane potion in a safe container, everything put back into her little beaded bag until morning. They had let the fire die until all that remained were the barely smoldering ashes.

Snape's hands came to rest on her shoulders as he assumed his place behind her once more, his gaze following hers. They remained silent until he felt her tremble beneath his palms.

"Just…relax. It will all be over soon."

Hermione tried to calm herself, and it worked to a degree. She'd decided to put her faith, if not in the pendants, then in Severus. Reason told her he was right. They would be fine, and they would return home at dawn.

Her left arm reached across her chest so that she could lay her hand on top of his. His strength, his confidence, was comforting to her. She knew that he would make sure she was safe. She could depend on him-she knew she could. Severus was her lover, her protector. Deep in her heart, she knew she could trust his words.

Hermione still feared the pain, though. The pain of transformation was torture. As the moon grew closer to its peak, she felt herself tremble out of horrid anticipation of shifting.

She gave a long intake of breath when the moon was almost directly overhead, and Snape squeezed her shoulders in reassurance. A few short seconds later, they both found that they couldn't break their gaze from the bright, white orb high above them.

Then, Severus's hands fell away and Hermione stepped forward as he stepped back. Their heads fell as they felt the change taking place. Both Lycan Hearts grew brighter, engulfing the pair in an inferred blur. They could sense their bodies taking different shapes, but to each of their surprise, no agony befell them as before.

When Hermione's legs elongated and she felt her human mind begin to fade, she also felt the pull from the pendant become stronger. She turned, mid-transformation, to face Severus, but their eyes remained closed while their consciences slipped from man's wisdom to animal's instinct.

And yet, when the change was complete, they were still aware that they were conscious. Their human minds hadn't blacked out entirely.

The female opened her eyes slowly, the image of her mate greeting her with those dark, knowing optics.

Hermione could see him. She could see the handsome mass of black fur, and black eyes that should be feral, but were instead, very docile. She tried to give her body a command, but it did not respond to her will. Instead, it did as the wolf side of her willed, and Hermione was stunned at this strange, bi-conscious state.

Snape, too, was bewildered by this new phenomenon. It amazed him, but it irked him more than it did Hermione that he couldn't control his body with the human part of his mind. As he stared through canine eyes at the small female, he found he still felt that acute attraction. He noted that the collar was still around her neck, glowing faintly, and he could feel his own pendant settled against his furry chest.

Hm…Very interesting indeed…

With little choice in the matter, the two of them allowed their human minds to remain on the sidelines as observers, feeling equally the instincts and impulses of their animal ones.

The female shifted slowly forward into a crouching position, stepping a bit hesitantly toward the male. He, in turn, mimicked her movements, only his head was held higher than hers. Soon, they were both on all fours, inching closer until their noses touched. They sniffed the muzzle of their partner for a moment before their tongues darted out to lick the mouth of the other with delighted whines.

A feeling of joy resounded through both of them, and they threw their heads back and howled to the great, round God of the night. They rose up onto their back legs, stretching to be closer to the bright orb, thanking it with the most beautiful song for uniting them.

When they let the final notes of their lycan hymn fade into the peaceful darkness, the male regarded his mate with newfound curiosity. He stepped closer, his nose testing the air around her. He nuzzled her a moment later, then the female jumped back, crouching with her tail flipping happily. The male followed suit, and his left ear twitched when she started to make playful noises.

She leapt to her right, and he leapt after her. She dodged him as they jumped round and around, the male eventually stopping to growl in slight irritation at being unable to pin his quarry.

Hermione internally laughed, seeing the resemblance to Snape's human side. Snape, in turn, scoffed with a bit of amusement, seeing Hermione quite clearly in the small, playful mutt in front of him.

Granger indeed…Just as much of a youthful tease as a wolf as she is as a witch.

The she wolf started to trot over to him, and he bared his teeth, reminding her of his annoyance. But his agitation gave way to warmth as she nuzzled her way beneath him, causing him to arch his back, his front, left leg lifting. He stared down at her as she slunk beneath him on one side and out on the other. She turned to him, jerking her head in a gesture resembling a nod as she gave a yip, her ears perked way up.

When he bounded toward her again, she spun and darted into the trees, her mate following close behind her. He chased her all over the place in this little game of smitten. When they came to a cliff, she didn't hesitate to leap straight off of it toward the valley below. The black wolf jumped after her, his weight carrying him to the earth faster than she until they were falling side-by-side, their front legs outstretched to meet the earth upon impact.

They landed together and ran for miles until they came to yet another mountain river. They stopped their jaunt to wrestle on the bank good-naturedly, their tails never stopping their furious waving.

The female tackled the male, both of them plummeting into the depths of the river. Beneath the water, the black wolf was incensed, and he worked to kick the female off before clawing his way to the surface. He swam for shore and staggered his way up onto solid ground, shaking the water from his fuzzy body. He turned his head to growl at the female as her head popped up, panting.

When she came back to him, shaking off the water like he had done, the male decided to get his lover back for her little stunt. He attacked her, with no real intent to harm, and they battled it out until he had her pinned on her back, a paw on her neck, declaring him the victor.

But the satisfaction of his triumph was short-lived. His ears picked up a familiar sound, his nose catching the scent of blood. Meat. It seemed stranger to him that it wasn't fresh, and that it was mixed with the scent of something else…

He backed off of the she wolf whipping around anxiously as the scents and sounds grow closer. His gut told him that his observations held nothing promising, only danger. And yet, as he sniffed around, he couldn't find a clear direction to flee. He sensed it everywhere, whatever the danger was. He sensed they were trapped.

The female had taken notice of it, too, and she whirled about just as anxiously. Knowing that remaining as they were would likely be the more foolish choice, they finally settled on heading eastward. Hopefully they could evade the conflict.

But as they got closer to where they were headed, they turned sharply to the south, sensing there was no salvation to the east. And when they went as far south as they thought they could, they spun to the west. Then to the north.

It was no use. Whatever was fanned out in a circle around them was coming closer, and there were apparently no breaks in the chain. Deciding they had no choice but to break the line of the threat, they kept north until they hit a ledge. There, beneath them, were ten human men, all with bows or guns.

The male lifted his nose and found that there was a human village a few miles off in the distance.

Snape mentally cursed as he realized what they had walked into. They had unknowingly wandered near the village from which Elora had fled when they'd assumed that she had slaughtered some of their livestock. They were werewolf hunting, and since Elora was nowhere in sight, that made he and Hermione the targets of their revenge.

As the wolf turned frantically to look at his mate, Snape couldn't tell if Hermione had come to the same conclusion. He could only hope that she had, not that they had any control over what their canine counterparts would do.

The male silently communicated to his partner to follow his lead, so when he turned westward again, she did the same. They ran along the cliff until they hit straight forest and continued to run as far away from the village to the east as possible. The less people, the easier their chances would be of escaping.

But their run-in with the humans was inevitable. Though Snape and Hermione both hoped that their wolf selves would try to sneak by the brigade, they were resigned to whatever fate may have in store for them when they found themselves locked in an all-out battle between man and beast.

United or not, in need of destroying the world or not, they were still werewolves. As such, they would not hesitate to fight, let alone kill, a human if the need arose. And certainly in that moment, with silver laden bullets and arrows blazing, the need for survival and preservation was indeed present.

Horrified, Hermione looked on as she watched herself tear men limb from limb, shattering their guns in her massive jaws, or splintering their hand-crafted bows with her long, deadly, merciless claws. Her growls and roars sounded terrifying in her own ears, and the screams of her victims as they fell, one by one, were enough to scar her for life, she was sure.

Snape's human mind cringed at the slaughter that was taking place not of his own accord. Yes, he'd been guilty of torture and murder during his days as a Death Eater spy, but he'd never seen the bloody destruction he was now witnessing, let alone committed such an atrocity.

When they thought they could get away safely, the wolves darted westward again, hoping to gain some ground before more men showed up. A few survivors pursued, and more men came to ambush them, attempting to make a successful shot at the beasts, but each time, the male and female would round on them, at the very least, wounding them to give them a chance to get away.

But as the female turned to address the nuisance of a man who's bullet had whizzed past her ear, she was met with another one to the chest.

She howled in pain as the bullet penetrated her body, somewhere very close to her heart. Not even the gem around her neck could stop the searing fire that was burning inside her thanks to the bullet's position and the melting of the silver into her veins as it flowed into her arteries and to her life-giving organ.

The stones glowed brightly; a blood color rather than the brilliant scarlet that they were familiar with. The male felt sharp agony course through him, and he roared his anger and discomfort.

Hermione could not think with her human consciousness, nor her wolf one. Her body and mind were in a state of distress, and all she could see was a blinding red accompanied by the agonizing fire in her chest. Snape still had hold of his conscience, and he knew the severity of the situation far more than Hermione. She could only feel, she could no longer think. Severus, though, knew that they were in serious trouble. The excruciating ache in his breast told him that she was in grave danger. He had to do something-anything-to save her, and himself.

Hermione's earlier words rang in his ears, and suddenly, he wished he had wrote to McGonagall. But it was much to late for that now.

The black wolf turned with wide eyes to his lover as she writhed and fell to the ground, blood pouring from her chest. She could no longer fight. Her wound was too severe. He felt himself growing weaker by the second, dreading the end that he vowed to fight off. He rushed to the female and stood over her, his entire body shaking.

Anger filled every fiber of Snape's being; anger, fear and desperation. As well-intentioned as these people had been, simply seeking justice for the theft and slaughter of their livestock, they had no right in blaming Elora, Hermione, or himself. Now they would pay for their mistake.

He whirled round to face the men as they stood, weapons poised and ready to fire. The emotions from his human soul mingled with those of his werewolf soul, and all he felt in that moment was bloodlust. Those fucking bastards were going to die for what they'd done!

The villagers didn't have time to react as the furious black beast charged at the men that remained, ripping them apart with no mercy and no end in sight. Their bullets and arrows grazed him, but thanks to the pendant, they couldn't hurt him any worse than they already had when they'd hit his mate.

Delicious. The blood of the men that stained his fangs and muzzle, that washed over his tongue and down his throat, was purely delicious. Revenge was sweet, and he held no regrets as his powerful jaws latched onto a middle-aged man's neck and snapped it. And when he leapt for the older man, the wolf held no remorse for penetrating his body with his long, razor-like claws and ripping out his insides and cracking each and every rib.

No man was safe. No man survived. Dead. All of them in the area, gone. Slaughtered. Decimated. Violated. Obliterated. Mauled.

And the only sorrow, the only grief that shone through all of the horror, was the anguish he felt over the fall of the other half of his soul. Once he was sure the last man would never rise again, the bloody victor raced to the side of his silent, motionless companion.

Where the pendant once glowed a strongly, now their stones were dim, and growing dimmer. The male whined sadly, nudging his mate give him any sort of sign that she would be ok. But it wasn't looking good. She gave no response, and he could hear her heartbeat growing fainter and fainter.

The sadness and despair penetrating his human consciousness, Snape prayed that she could hold out a little longer. He prayed that she could hold out until sunrise. If he could only change back, he could heal her. He could do something. But as a werewolf, he was powerless to heal, powerless to save.

Merlin, no…No, please don't let her die…Don't let this be the end. It can't be…It just can't be. I finally found my happiness, my future…and it's going to be over when it's barely just begun…

The sorrow and the distress too much to bear, the wolf let silent tears fall upon the body of his beloved as she lay in a pool of her own blood. Then, in utter desperation, he sat back on his haunches and howled; a painful, woeful cry that echoed through the night like the saddest song. He wept into the night, a plea for the glorious moon to save the life of his soul mate.

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, FOLKS! ;) Hope you like your gift! CLIFFY! X3

MERRY CLIFFMAS! BAHA!

I know, I'm so cruel…Please review anyway, and maybe I'll update. Can't guarantee you the next chapter will harbor good news.