A/N: A long chapter to make up for some seriously slow updating. The first half is a bit of a rehash from the books, but I tried to give it its own little spin (well, kind of).
Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Brittny.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox.
Chapter 34: A Not So Happy Christmas
"Harry, that's dangerous! We really shouldn't!"
"Stop making excuses, 'Mione!" Harry retorted, and threw his hands up in the air. "It's the place I was born. It's where my parents died, 'Mione! And it's almost Christmas. I want to go to Godric's Hollow. I know you're just as suspicious of there being a Horcrux there as I am."
Hermione could feel her cheeks flushing in a wave of panic. Severus had told her weeks ago not to go anywhere near Godric's Hollow. So far, she had successfully persuaded Harry not to, but this morning her friend awoke with a stubborn resolution in mind, leaving Hermione trumped on how to convince him otherwise without resorting to something as low as a body bind.
"But it's exactly the sort of place he'd expect you to go! Harry, you'll be walking into a trap; we both will. It's just too much of a risk. I'm sorry."
Harry's green eyes glistened with anger. "Fine! I'll go alone then!"
"What?"
"You heard me!" Harry's face softened at taking in Hermione's visibly distraught eyes. "Listen, if I get into a bind, I'll try to send word to you if I can."
"Harry, this is madness!"
"No," Harry replied, his voice steady and controlled, "I'm going home to where I was always destined to grow up, 'Mione. It's not madness. I'm going, and I won't let you stop me."
Hermione bit her lower lip, watching as Harry silently cast a few select items—his wand and the Golden Snitch—into his coat pockets. He turned around and stared at her, looking suddenly like the boy from Privet's Drive all those years ago: small and lost and nearly innocent of the life he would grow up to lead.
"Harry, please," Hermione tried one last time, knowing full well that it wouldn't deter him one bit. "At least sleep on it. If - If we're going to go to Godric's Hollow—"
"You're coming?"
Hermione hesitated a moment, Severus's strong warning playing on repeat in her head, before nodding. "Yes, of course, I'm coming with you. But we really should make some Polyjuice Potion first."
"No, I'm not going to return home as someone else, 'Mione."
"Well, can we at least wait until—"
"Christmas Eve?"
That wasn't exactly what Hermione was going to suggest, but if it meant buying her several more days to come up with another excuse, then she would gladly take it. She nodded in agreement, and Harry shrugged.
"All right, sure. Christmas Eve, then. But we are going."
With that, Harry stalked out of the tent to keep watch for the night, leaving Hermione to her own devices. It was a minute or two, however, before she could will herself to move. Her mind was too busy racing with any sort of stalling or delay or excuse she could come up with. And then there was Severus's adamant warning, one Hermione knew that they should listen to, if they knew what was good for them. He sounded serious and quite emphatic on that point.
Should I send word to him? Hermione willed her legs to move about and proceeded to stroll around in a gradual circle. Big mistake. Although, if I sent word right before we left... That's kind of horrible though. But then, at least, someone would know where we were, in case anything went wrong... Severus is going to be so peeved with me.
She let out an audible groan of frustration. If she were completely alone, she would have sent word now, but there was no way of doing so. Hermione stomped off to read one of the many books she brought with them, hoping that might distract her nervous apprehensions about the upcoming holiday.
Christmas Eve came faster than Hermione imagined, especially considering how slow the days normally were, with little progress being made on finding more Horcruxes. When is Severus ever going to see fit to give Harry that blasted sword already? We need it, for crying out loud!
For the moment, Hermione didn't mention anything about the sword to Harry. Since her friend was expected to 'find it,' there was no use in spoiling the 'surprise.' Hermione couldn't help rolling her eyes.
She had been rather frantic all day long, now and again egging Harry on to change his mind, only to get a disgruntled response or have him stomp off. Finally, the evening came, and with it, the unavoidable journey.
Harry waited for Hermione outside the tent, calling to her repeatedly. "'Mione, come on! Enough stalling!"
"All right, all right, I'll be right there!"
If you're going to send a message, Hermione, send it now before Harry comes in!
Hermione crouched down in a corner of the tent to summon her Patronus, but then sporadically changed her mind yet again. No, better not to worry him. Sending that at the last minute will only freak him out. Let him find out on his own, and not through me. It'll be fine, Hermione. You know what to do if something goes wrong...
"'Mione, come on!"
Hermione stumbled out of the tent and hastily took Harry's hand. She felt rather nauseous, however, at the notion of going to Godric's Hollow without, at the very least, informing Severus, and a tremendous amount of guilt lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late.
Using Side-Along Apparation, the pair emerged in the small, snow-covered English town of Godric's Hollow. Hermione quickly gathered Harry's Invisibility Cloak around them and was immediately perturbed to find the place virtually deserted; or so it appeared. The weather conditions weren't torrential enough to keep anyone from being out and about, and wasn't it Christmas Eve?
Perhaps it was just that her nerves were already heightened because of Severus's warning, or maybe it was also her intuition that told her this place wasn't just creepy because it was dark and abnormally quiet...
"This is a mistake," she whispered under her breath, but Harry still caught what she said.
"Not now, 'Mione, please."
Stepping forward, Harry motioned Hermione to wrap her free arm not holding onto to the cloak through his, and together they progressed carefully down an abandoned street. Soon, some merry banter could be heard coming from a nearby pub, but it was rather faint and the pub was obviously not filled to capacity.
Hermione made a point of keeping alert, knowing Harry was probably emotionally distracted with soaking in the place of his birth. But soon she, too, found herself distracted, though not by anything troubling or out of the ordinary.
Music.
Her eyes caught the sight of the top of a small church in the distance, and the sound of Christmas music infiltrated the eerily quiet atmosphere, bringing Hermione an immediate sense of comfort. She instantly gravitated towards the hymn, whatever it was, and allowed her sharp ears to listen intently.
"Listen," she murmured, and Harry, too, gravitated towards the echo of carols. "Christmas music... Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes, it is," he replied, though his voice sounded unusually hushed, almost strained.
Hermione guided them towards the church. All the while, her heart grew increasingly warmed and soothed by the music she detected. She used to always be so excited about this time of year. How times had changed. Just last year...
Last year, her mind reflected, and she nearly teared up on the spot. A lump formed in her chest as images flooded her mind from the last Christmas she had had.
It was hard to imagine that a year ago she attended Christmas mass with Severus Snape. Had time really gone that quickly? She could remember it so vividly...
Severus casually singing along to her favorite hymns, his rich baritone filling her ears with a magic all its own, surprisingly beautiful and intimate. How he had agreed to teach her to fly and encouraged her to confront her fears. That night—or Christmas morning, rather—they finally held hands for the first time...
"Silent Night." Her favorite hymn. Something about it tore at her heart, but not in a forlorn way. It was moving and personal and poignant to her, and now for all the more reason: because she had heard Severus sing it once.
Hermione realized her eyes were now wetting, and she quickly wiped her tears away before Harry could notice. "What are we doing?" he stressed as they progressed closer and closer to the church.
"Don't you want to go inside?"
"Erm, well, yeah, but..."
Hermione spun around, curious as to what had suddenly distracted Harry's attention and caused his thoughts to drift. Harry had ceased walking just outside the entrance to the church, and was staring off at something she hadn't noticed: a cemetery.
Hermione's heart collapsed into her stomach, knowing before Harry proposed the question where they might find Lily. Lily...
Hermione was still very much conflicted about how to feel about her, particularly in the presence of her best friend. She reluctantly followed Harry's lead as he removed the Invisibility Cloak, something she begged him not to do, and strolled into the cemetery, listening to the Christmas music all the while as it continued to penetrate through the stone walls. She preferred to focus on the holiday and how light the music made her feel, but it all seemed far too silly—selfish, even—given the current state of things in their world.
Hermione searched the various grave markings as Harry reared off in the opposite direction. Stumbling across the Deathly Hallows symbol etched on one of the gravestones, Hermione's curiosity immediately heightened. But then she realized it had grown far too quiet, despite the music. Much too quiet.
When Hermione peered up, she found Harry several feet away, standing at what undoubtedly had to be the gravestone of his parents. The sight made her heart sink. She knew she had to go to him, offer whatever solace she could, but a deeply troubled part of Hermione didn't want to chance moving from this spot.
Little did Harry know, Lily was such an enormously big part of Severus's past—more than Hermione herself knew—and she wasn't quite sure if she was ready yet to face the final resting place of her wizard's best friend, the friend who ultimately turned her back on him, leaving him more scarred than anyone could possibly imagine. For some reason, just thinking on the redheaded twisted Hermione's stomach.
Was it jealousy? Or was it something else? Something much deeper and less superficial?
Hermione took a deep breath and walked over to join Harry, pained to find his eyes drenched with tears. She had hardly ever seen him cry, despite everything he had been through. Hermione willed herself to look down at the grave marking that read the names of his parents, her eyes focusing in on the one name in particular: Lily Potter.
Does Severus ever come here? she found herself wondering. Does he visit Lily's grave?
Then she spotted a miniature wreath full of disintegrated flowers that looked like actual lilies. The display was appropriately placed where Lily's name was carved into the cold stone. What struck Hermione almost immediately was the very small, hardly visible green ribbon that accompanied it. Hermione found her answer.
Oh, Severus...
The dead flowers represented him in some awfully damaged, brokenhearted way, representative of all the turmoil and suffering he had endured for so many years. Alone. Staring at the dead woman's name, seeing the wreath, and thinking of Severus—it all became too much for Hermione to bear.
Hermione inadvertently compressed Harry's hand as tears began to fall from her eyes. She suppressed any audible cries well enough not to alarm her friend; he was already experiencing his own emotional torment. And yet, he had no idea in that moment just how much Hermione needed his comforting touch as much as he needed hers.
Together, the two Gryffindors stood by the grave for a long while, neither one saying a word, just holding tight to the other's hand. Hermione eventually conjured another wreath on Harry's behalf and stepped back to retake possession of her friend's hand. Laying her head on his shoulder, she allowed him to cry softly for a time without interruption, and she, too, tried to bring herself out of her own melancholy; only it wasn't necessarily her suffering she was experiencing, but Severus's. She could sense that exquisite agony of his in the very depths of her soul and wanted nothing more than to turn away from this godforsaken place.
"Who do you suppose left those?" Harry asked, bringing Hermione out of her reflections.
"I... I don't know."
"Strange..."
"Well, your parents were well thought of, Harry, and still are. It was probably someone from the Order."
"Yeah, maybe. They look... They look like they were lilies."
Hermione smiled sadly. "Yes, they do. I'm sure they were lovely."
Harry fell back into silence. It was another few minutes of solitude for the pair of them before Hermione spotted a dark silhouette standing next to the church, blatantly watching them, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. Severus's warning immediately rang in her ears, and she quickly grasped Harry's arm to let him know that they were no longer alone.
If Hermione was worried about things going badly, they only progressed from bad to worse. Harry decided to follow the figure in question—an old woman they gathered to be Bathilda Bagshot, whom Harry was seeking out for information—only he was far more inclined to follow the strange, mute lady wherever she led them, unlike Hermione, who was desperate to turn back.
"Harry, this isn't a smart idea!" she hissed, more than ready to heed to Severus's warning as they put the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves to follow inconspicuously.
"She knew the Dumbledores, 'Mione. C'mon..."
His voice drifted yet again when his green eyes took in an abandoned house, now in ruins, where the roof had either caved in or, from the looks of it, blown up. Hermione followed his gaze and recognized the place instantly without having ever seen it before: Harry's birthplace, the very spot where Lily Potter died...
Another wounded pang tugged at Hermione's insides as she stared at the house in ruins. Protective enchantments were all over the place, concealing it from Muggles' eyes.
Did he ever venture here? she questioned quietly. Did Severus make a point of visiting the house whenever he visited Lily's grave? How often did he come here, for that matter? How badly did he continue to torture himself in Godric's Hollow? Hermione had her grave suspicions but wasn't ready to confront them just yet.
"It's still here..." Harry murmured, sounding both mesmerized and downcast at the same time.
Hermione startled when Harry eventually turned away to continue following Bathilda Bagshot, who hadn't spoken a word to them yet. Her eyes were unnatural looking, almost sinister, and caused Hermione to shiver.
Something was most definitely askew...
"Harry, please!" she urged repeatedly, even after they had entered the woman's home, only to find it smelled of mold. The state of it was also in disarray, as if it hadn't been cleaned in an exceedingly long time. There were no candles lit either, which gave the place an unsettling, foreboding feeling.
Harry soon disappeared, leaving Hermione in the abandoned sitting room, if it could even be labeled as such. Hermione decided to look around and make her search of the place a swift one. She spotted a book about Dumbledore, which she immediately snatched up, but then her nose took in a ghastly odor, one that her eyes, too, traced to the walls and ceiling above.
Blood. Shit. Severus was right!
"HARRY!"
Lord Voldemort hissed as he glided across the floorboards, infuriated by the news Lucius Malfoy brought. Harry Potter and his Mudblood friend had escaped his clutches yet again. Lucius recoiled and hung his head, his hands trembling, waiting to receive some sort of blow from his master, though he had no idea what that might be.
Severus stood rigid in the opposite corner of the Malfoy's sitting room, his hands clasped behind his back, his mind racing without any indication as such. Having only received word an hour ago that Hermione and Potter had narrowly escaped Nagini, despite all his attempts to dissuade her from going to Godric's Hollow, Severus was rattled to the core. And infuriated. All of his efforts, all of his attempts to keep the blasted boy safe, and Hermione as well, were falling on deaf ears, and proving to be a moot effort.
After everything I said, after all the warnings I gave you, after I practically begged you not to go to Godric's Hollow, Hermione, you still defied me! Foolish, headstrong girl!
"The Mudblood is clever," Voldemort sneered with a dangerous gleam in his red eyes. "Far too clever. The sooner we get her separated from Potter, the better chance we'll have of catching him!"
Voldemort abruptly stopped pacing and stared at the hunched form of Lucius, his mouth cast in a deep frown. He extended his hand out to bring it beneath Lucius's chin, forcing the man to slowly look into his face, something the wizard was more than reluctant to do, and obviously so.
There was a long, drawn out silence between master and servant before Voldemort threw his hand back and smacked Lucius across the face with such force that he actually stumbled backward into a corner table. He gaped at Voldemort, skittish as a mouse. To Severus, it was debilitating to watch, but there was nothing he could do and no help he could offer his once very good friend.
"Send for Wormtail and Bellatrix! I need them here! Now!" Voldemort commanded with a rumbling authority that made the once prominent wizard practically crawl out of the room on his hands and knees.
"Severus," he addressed, with a bit more calmness.
Severus stepped forward, emerging from the shadows at the beckoning of his clueless master. "Yes, my Lord?"
"It is time for us to implement our second plan. You know of what I speak."
"Certainly, my Lord."
"I expect you to take care of bringing the Mudblood to me."
"I will."
"There can be no mistakes, Severus. I will not let Potter fall out of my grasp one more time! Do you hear?"
"I understand, my Lord."
"Very well," he replied with a bit more bite than Severus expected.
Severus bowed his head and, without another word, strolled out of the room and out the front door. Once outside of the gates to the estate, he Disapparated back to Hogwarts.
Damn it, Hermione! He growled ferociously to himself once he landed in an abandoned corridor. What am I to do now?
Once Severus finds out we were in Godric's Hollow, his wrath will be worse than anything you've ever received. Who are you kidding, Hermione? He already knows. He's probably so infuriated and disgusted with you now that he'll purposely avoid you altogether. Ugh. Well-played. Nicely done!
Hermione sighed and leaned her head against a tree stump. It had been two days since she and Harry narrowly escaped the clutches of Voldemort's snake. Severus, as she predicted, had been right about staying away from Godric's Hollow, and for good reason. Bathilda Bagshot had turned out to be Nagini in disguise, nearly killed them both, and Harry had sustained injuries in her attempts to get them to safety. What was most unhinging, however, was that Harry's wand had been severed during their escape.
Now her best friend—the only person destined to defeat the Dark Lord—had no wand to do just that, or to merely defend himself from anyone else. Hermione felt awful and sickened, even though Harry showed no slight towards her for what happened.
It certainly wouldn't help knowing she would soon be receiving a piece of Severus's mind, too, and for once, she dreaded the possibility of her snarky wizard calling upon her. It wouldn't be a pleasant conversation, and Hermione could only hope that Severus wouldn't be so gravely offended that he stopped speaking to her altogether. Knowing of Harry's broken wand would probably stress the hell out of him, to the point that Hermione pondered whether or not to tell him at all.
Why cause him more strain, Hermione? But then... Why lie to him either? You're no good at it anyhow, and he'd see right through your poor abilities.
Hermione bit her lower lip, and tried to focus on the lovely, quiet scenery around her. Harry and she had packed up their belongings earlier that morning and moved onto another location, Disapparating to the Forest of Dean, beautiful woodlands she had so often frequented with her parents as a child. She used to recall those memories with such fondness, but now they only brought her pain, knowing that her parents were—hopefully—alive and out there in the world, fully unaware that she even existed.
Hermione bundled her warm blanket more securely around herself and tossed the book she had taken from Bagshot's house about Dumbledore aside. How much longer was this going to carry on? When would they find another Horcrux, or even destroy the one they had, for that matter?
When will you give Harry the ruddy sword already, Severus?
Harry had gone to sleep hours ago, or perhaps he was just keeping to himself for the afternoon; Hermione didn't know, but his absence left her to ponder over their situation well into the evening, until Harry finally emerged from the tent and relieved her to get some rest.
Hermione laid down in bed, curling up into a ball as the winter gusts blew softly outside, rippling at the thin fabric of the tent that kept her warm. She hated not having a wand on hand at all times, but now they both only had hers.
This is not a good situation, she groaned. Not at all. You really will have to tell Severus, Hermione. Maybe he can help. If he'll even want to speak to you after this mess you got yourself into, that is.
Late into the evening, Hermione was still awake, tossing and turning and relentlessly sifting through memories of the past few days when she thought she heard faint footsteps outside. Hermione quickly sat up and jumped out of bed. She ran to the opening, hoping it was just Harry stretching his legs, or, what she really wanted those footsteps to be more than anything, Severus.
Hermione peered out into the darkness, and her eyes blinked several times to adjust to the gloom. They widened once she made out the silhouette of Harry slowly walking further and further away from the tent—as if transfixed—and not just for a mere stroll. He was following something, and when Hermione made out what it was on the edge of the clearing, her heart began to pound with excitement.
Severus.
Hermione was tempted to run after Harry, to accompany him wherever the doe—Severus—was obviously leading him away to, but, instead, was too determined to find the wizard himself, if he was even here. He must be here. If he wasn't, his doe would certainly not be guiding Harry away from the tent. It would have evaporated into the wind after communicating whatever message it had for her friend.
Snatching up her coat and fumbling to get her boots on tight, Hermione trekked out into the forest in search of Severus, praying she wasn't just losing her mind, and that she would find him here, or that he would find her. "Severus!" she uttered in a low, urgent whisper, her eyes scanning her bleak surroundings, hoping to spot that dark silhouette she loved. "Severus, are you here? What's going on? Severus!"
Hermione tried to keep an eye on Harry but soon lost sight of him between the trees. She abruptly remembered that he had her wand, leaving her vulnerable; and who knew when he would return or where he was being led?
In a panic, Hermione diverted her attention back to Harry and was making her way over to the spot where he disappeared when a pair of firm hands snatched her around the waist. Hermione let out a startled gasp. When she whipped her head around, she was relieved to find it was the very man she had been hoping to see.
"Severus!" she breathed excitedly. "What the... Why are you here? What's going on?"
"Must you bombard me with questions the moment you see me?" he snarled, irritated. "A simple hello would suffice."
Hermione, however, stifled a laugh and threw her arms around his neck, standing on her tip toes to reach him. "What are you doing here?" she repeated, burying her face in all his limp hair, ignoring the fact that he was probably very, very cross with her.
His warm arms wrapped themselves around her, and she squeezed even harder in response. "To make sure you and Potter were actually unharmed, for starters," he emphasized with a disapproving growl.
Hermione nuzzled her nose against his ear, then planted a vigorous kiss on his cheek, inhaling that fresh pine and herb scent she had been missing. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, sounding guilty. "I tried to persuade him not to go, Severus. I really tried. He wouldn't listen to me. I wasn't going to just let him go off alone. I - I couldn't. Please try to under—"
"That's enough," he said sternly, though he continued to hold onto her, his grip never easing.
"You're angry with me..."
Her voice was so soft that it instantly dragged Severus down. He turned his head and shocked her by kissing her back, illustrating to her without words that she was forgiven.
"I'm always angry with you," he issued just as quietly against her ear.
Severus, you were supposed to reprimand her, you pathetic idiot.
Severus's thoughts were distracted when Hermione shuddered in his arms. He pulled her closer to his chest to keep her warm. He had been prepared to scold her, to come down on her for such a foolish mistake and for not heeding his warning, especially after he begged her to listen, but with the young witch now in his arms and embracing him in a manner no one else had ever done, he found himself caving, and secretly despising himself for it.
"Did you purposely send Harry away so that we could talk?" she giggled, drawing her head back to look him in the eyes.
"I wish that were the case, but no."
Hermione's eyebrows tapered. "Then you're not here just to see me?"
"Is that a trick question?"
Hermione surprised him with a hiss that matched his own and tugged on his neck. "Depends on how you answer."
Severus smirked and laced his fingers through a few of her tousled curls. "I'm giving Potter the sword. After that ridiculous stunt you two pulled, it couldn't wait any longer."
Hermione tried not to smile but found it difficult. "And where will he find it, Severus?"
There was reproach in her eyes that made his own dance provokingly. "That's none of your business. And anyway, you're not supposed to know anything about it, remember?"
"I guess not." She scrutinized him for a moment, then added, "Actually, I'm not sure I want to know. It's probably completely unnecessary, whatever way you've chosen to hide it."
At this, Severus said nothing, only stared at her unreservedly, twirling a curl or two of hers around his index finger. His face gradually grew somber, almost older, and the shift worried Hermione a bit.
"I'm relieved you're all right."
His voice was surprisingly vulnerable and caused Hermione to blink several times. He didn't have to say anything else, even if he couldn't convey his regard easily enough. It was written all over his worn face, and Hermione's stomach lurched at taking in his fatigue and anxiety, all probably because of her.
He's been worried sick. She stared pityingly into his eyes. Poor, adorable man.
Hermione extended her neck to lock lips and grew excited at how he responded back, pushing back against her. Hermione felt herself being shoved against the stump of a tree. He issued a sigh of relief into her mouth, and she responded by weaving her fingers through his hair.
When he pulled back, they gave one another a long and silent stare. "I'm all right, Severus," she tried to reassure as gently as possible.
"Yes, well, don't ever do anything so reckless like that again!" His tone was acidic, but the concern was far less subtle than usual, and Hermione found it more than a little captivating. "And you should have sent your Patronus."
"I know I should have. Believe me, Severus, I wanted to, but I didn't want you to worry either."
"That's a lousy excuse, Hermione," he snarled, "and you know it."
"No, it's isn't. You have enough to worry about right now—"
"That doesn't matter!"
"Yes, it does, Severus," she replied patiently. "It would have only stressed you out, and that's not something I wanted to put you through—"
"You're important to me!"
His outburst brought the argument to a standstill. Severus's humiliation at speaking without thinking was obvious as he quickly shied away from her. His cheeks were burning, his dark eyes avoiding hers and her gaze altogether. His hair fell forward in a miserable attempt to bury his indignity.
"Severus..."
Hermione reached her hands from around his neck and brushed the stray hairs behind his ears, grateful when he didn't recoil from her touch, but, instead, allowed her to caress his face, rubbing at his cheeks delicately with her thumbs.
"You're important to me, too. The situation was unavoidable, and there's nothing you could have done about it." She reached up and pecked his cheek; he instinctively leaned into her touch, which made her lips smile against his warm skin, even if she did feel terrible for keeping him in the dark. "I'm sorry for worrying you, love. It's all right though. I'm all right."
Severus brought one arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist, and pressed her against him, a quiet but intense possessiveness she enjoyed. Bringing her own arms around his back, the two embraced each other noiselessly before Severus broke the silence.
"I came to tell you something."
Hermione leaned back to examine him fully, her brow furrowed. "Oh?"
"Yes... About what I told you I wouldn't elaborate on without seeing you myself." Hermione glanced away towards the spot where Harry had disappeared, and before the words even touched her lips, Severus answered her question. "Potter will survive. He'll be a while yet."
Hermione cast him another reprimanding look that nearly broke Severus's austerity. Taking her by the hand, he led her deeper into the woods, further away from the tent. When Severus turned around again, Hermione was suddenly nervous. It wasn't like him to appear so visibly agitated. His eyes kept darting around them, as if he half expected someone to pop out of the bushes or descend from a nearby tree.
"Severus," she urged softly, drawing near, "what is it? What's wrong?"
"The Dark Lord has implemented a plan. One he's ordered me to carry out, which is why I've come to warn you."
Hermione inadvertently tightened her grip on his hand. "A plan?" she repeated, aware that whatever it was, it surely must involve Harry.
"Yes... About you."
Hermione's eyes expanded. She hadn't expected that.
"Me?"
Severus gave a curt nod and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of her palm. Then he safeguarded it against his chest and met her frantic gaze again.
"Yes, Hermione, you. I didn't want to tell you before because I wanted to wait until I had formulated some sort of a plan to prevent this."
Hermione's heart started to beat faster. "What? Does he want to use me to get to Harry?"
"In a way, yes. And no..."
The raven eyes she knew so well grew darker and guilt-ridden with hardly a flicker, but she could decipher his conflicted emotions well enough in a manner that no one else could. Bringing an arm around his waist, she tugged at his back and brought her face close to his.
"Severus, what is it? Just tell me."
"I... I'm sorry for keeping this from you." His voice was thin and unnatural sounding. "I - I haven't been sure what to do, or how to avoid the situation without compromising either you or myself. But I've decided it doesn't matter. I want you to be safe, and I want you to listen to me very carefully, do you understand?"
The pounding in her chest was so great she thought it might burst. She swallowed and nodded her head emphatically, keeping her eyes on his intensified stare. Her attention seemed to be the encouragement the dark wizard needed to keep talking.
"Almost three years ago, when the Dark Lord returned during the Triwizard Tournament, I was summoned immediately, and could do nothing at the time. You remember? I told you before. Dumbledore knew, of course, but I wasn't permitted to go anywhere. I knew it was partly a test on his part; a test of loyalty, even after all the time I had spent in his service. It only became clear to me then, that, even after so much time, the old man still didn't trust me at all.
"I was given quite an unnecessary lecture about the information I could sniff out if I stayed on the 'right side.' It was the most excruciating two hours of my life. Once Dumbledore finally sensed that I wasn't going to abandon him and the school—that I would keep my word—I was finally permitted to go to the Dark Lord, but not with any shred of confidence or dignity intact. I was convinced that the excuse I had would not be good enough, that he would surely kill me...
"I won't go into detail about what happened once I made my appearance—it's not important—but by some small miracle, I survived and was entrusted back into the Dark Lord's circle."
Hermione gulped at that information. She wanted to know, but a deep part of her didn't for fear of knowing how bad it probably was. She allowed Severus to continue uninterrupted.
"Not long after, the Dark Lord began formulating plans that have only gone into action the past several months. One of those plans involved getting to those closest to Potter, which I'm sure you've suspected all on your own." He paused to stare deep into Hermione's eyes, the blackness depleted and almost melancholy, matching his voice as he spoke. "He's had plans for you since the beginning. Weasley is daft and easily disposable—the Dark Lord knows this—so he's hardly given him a second thought, but you..."
When his sentence trailed off, Hermione asked breathlessly, "Wha - What about me?"
"Well, he's fully aware of your reputation, of your capabilities. He knows, of course, that you're also closest to Potter. And he also understands that you're the brains of this outfit, and that Potter wouldn't stand a chance if... If you weren't protecting him, if you weren't in the way..."
Hermione couldn't speak. Finally, when she found her voice, she tried to protest. "But - But that's not true—"
Severus, however, cut her off. "It is, Hermione; we both know it. That's why he sees you as such a threat; the individual standing in his way, dividing him from what he wants, which is why he enlisted me to... To undermine you."
Severus paused, though he hated the virtually blank stare she was giving him. "For the past several years, I... I've been the one relaying information to him about you. He's rather fascinated by you, Hermione... You're Muggle-born, and the Dark Lord can't understand how someone of what he considers to be 'low stature' could possess the skills or the intelligence or the gifts that you possess. I think it greatly unhinges him as much as it also intrigues him...
"Even back before I really became acquainted with you, Hermione, I... I didn't know you like I do now, and this double-life doesn't permit me to always keep those I care about safe, nor does it prevent me from disclosing information I wish I didn't have to share..."
Hermione realized her mouth was dry and attempted to swallow. "Wha - What are his plans for me, Severus?"
There was a slight, and unnerving, hesitation before he answered. "To kidnap you, hold you as bait until Potter comes looking for you, and then..."
Hermione drew closer, hanging on every word. "Yes?"
Severus's cheeks reddened and his eyes turned into slits. For a split second, Hermione was genuinely afraid, until he whispered in an acidic, yet highly protective tone, "To break and torture you and all but leave you for dead..."
"What?"
"He's considering enslaving you, actually..."
"I... What?"
"Please don't force me to elaborate more than that, Hermione," Severus unexpectedly hissed, withdrawing from her a bit. "You have a vivid imagination. I'm sure you can piece together what the Dark Lord and any male Death Eater are capable of. Think back to that book I gave you last year on the Dark Arts, think back to the contents and the various tortures any of them might use..."
Hermione's face contorted for a moment. Then a wave of awareness, followed by trepidation, marred her brow. She stepped back from Severus but, to his relief, didn't bring her hand out of his.
"This is what all that training was about," she whispered, flabbergasted and, for the first time in a long while, unsure of the intentions of the wizard holding steadfast to her hand. "Combating lesser known Dark Arts magic, Occlumency, Legilimency... You knew about this plan, and that's why you sought to teach me to defend myself, so that I... That I might stand a chance? Was - Was that it? You've been planning to turn me over to the Dark Lord and wanted me to be prepared to put up a fight?"
Severus didn't answer, only stared at her intently and with his mouth cast into a grave scowl. Growing ever more unsure, Hermione willed herself to press him.
"Severus, have you... Have you been planning to hand me over to the Dark Lord this whole time? Was everything," Hermione choked on her words and could barely get them out. "Was everything between us a lie?"
She couldn't quite believe that to be the truth; it just didn't seem plausible, despite these new revelations. After what they had shared, after all the wonderful feelings she was experiencing, she didn't want to believe it. But her mind was whirling and conflicted and baffled and afraid.
She caught Severus's flicker of panic, followed by his abrupt step forward. He cupped the side of her face and stared at her with an emotional expression of pain that shook her to her very foundation.
"No, it wasn't a lie, Hermione. I've been trying for over two years to subtly dissuade him, to focus his attention elsewhere, even begged Albus to put a stop to my getting to know you because it's been killing me. I couldn't—"
"Dumbledore knew, too?"
Hermione felt like her heart had fallen into the pit of her stomach. The Headmaster she had once so greatly revered suddenly seemed like a ghost, as if he had never been real or existed at all.
Sensing her troubling thoughts, but not wanting to delve inside her mind, Severus carefully pulled a shocked Hermione towards him and into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and could feel her entire body trembling. He instinctively wove his arms more securely around her. He had been fearing this moment for some time. He suspected that telling her would not only be a mistake, but also his own undoing. Perhaps he shouldn't have told her at all...
Shut up, Severus. You deserve this. You should never have let things advance this far to begin with. You should have pushed her away a long time ago and spared her this misery, you selfish bastard.
"Hermione," he whispered, choking back on her name. When she looked up at him, that suspicious look in her eyes he hadn't seen for well over a year made his chest ache. "I... I really have been trying to help you, I swear it. And yes, in the beginning, it was because of the Dark Lord's plan, but also because I... I started caring for you a lot sooner than you think I did, or even I realized..."
"R - Really?"
"Yes... And I'm sorry for keeping this from you. Please try to understand, I don't want you to be afraid; I just want you to be on your guard. I have no intention of handing you over to the Dark Lord. I fought with Albus on it for years, to his bitter end. He never sided with me because he knew it would compromise my position. He just needed his spy; that was all. For the moment, I became more important than you, but only to serve a purpose. He couldn't understand, or perhaps just refused, to acknowledge that, by all accounts, you would most certainly die if you fell into the Dark Lord's hands.
"It was only to save my skin that Albus encouraged me to go through with the plan; he couldn't lose his one asset to getting inside the Dark Lord's mind. I think, deep down, he did care about you, Hermione, in his own way, but make no mistake: Albus Dumbledore was always focused on the greater picture and not so much you or I or even Potter. If it meant the end of this war, and with the Dark Lord destroyed, whoever stood in the way was of little concern to him.
"I never agreed with him on it, and we had countless rows over it—about how much Potter should have known, about where I could step in and where I wasn't allowed—but in the months leading up to his death, we... We mainly discussed you.
"Please believe me, Hermione. I couldn't do it, and I came to that realization almost as soon as you started pestering me and trying to get to know me. Perhaps..." He hesitated, unsure if he should divulge too much, but then quickly decided to clear the air and give her the clarity she deserved. "Perhaps a few years ago, without knowing you the way I do now, I might have been able to stomach all of this if... If it meant gaining more compromising information about the Dark Lord, anything that could be used against him.
"I... I'm in a difficult position all the time. I have seen more tortures, more deaths, more takings of innocent lives—many of them people that I've known and couldn't save—than I ever care to admit. Two years ago, you would have been another casualty whose death I'd be forced to accept and do nothing to prevent.
"But by Dumbledore requesting that I get to know you, and with the Dark Lord making the same request, I... I never expected any of this to happen. Believe me, Hermione, it sickened me every day working with you, knowing what I was being forced to do, knowing that you weren't aware of any of it. I - I've wanted to tell you, I just... I just didn't know how I could without giving myself up. And getting to know you day by day made the notion of telling you just too hard, because for a long time I was convinced that I would still carry out my orders, despite all the objections I made on your behalf."
"Orders?" Hermione whispered, biting on her lower lip. "Wh - What is your part in all of this?"
Severus stiffened, his eyes hardening a bit. "To gain your trust, lure you to the Dark Lord, and, in all likelihood, torture you myself..."
Hermione could hardly breathe anymore. Her head was spinning, and seeing the torment on Severus's face was enough to make her want to crumble to the ground and never get up again. She knew, looking at him now, that he wouldn't do what was expected of him. Though she hadn't really doubted his regard for her, seeing the visible confirmation both heartened and shattered her to pieces, despite still being quite shocked.
"Th - Thank you... For telling me," she barely managed.
Peering up at him, and seeing his own torment, she wanted to cringe. How has he managed to deal with all of this? With everything? Always forced to do what no one else could stomach. Always forced to do what's not in his nature to do, what isn't who he really is. Severus...
"Please, Hermione," he begged, unaware of her thoughts, "I would never and could never hand you over to the Dark Lord. Never. You're the only person I've got, and I..." His voice lowered until it was barely above a whisper, his hair falling forward again in an attempt to mask his shame, "I care about you far too much."
There was a short pause in which the two simply stared at one another, although Severus found it quite difficult to stand his ground or keep his focus. He blinked repeatedly and constantly shifted his eyes.
Hermione understood the gravity that lay behind the words, what the tortured man really wanted to say but couldn't bring himself to declare. Not just yet. She brought a hand to Severus's face and gently traced his lips before resting her hand on his cheek, waiting for his eyes to stop fluttering and focus on her. Once she had his attention, her expression softened into one of compassion, understanding, and deeply held affection.
"I believe you," she replied softly.
Without hesitating, she kissed him to let him know of her unchanged sentiments, grateful that it seemed to alleviate some of the tension lingering in the air around them. When their lips parted, she extended a smile, though it was not nearly as radiant as usual.
"Thank you for... For everything you've taught me."
"I..." Severus struggled to get his words out, a feat Hermione found debilitating to see. "I don't deserve your gratitude or your kindness. I lied to you, Hermione."
"But you're telling me now. Shouldn't that count for something?"
"No," he grumbled. "It's no excuse."
"You just told me that you've been wanting to tell me for some time, Severus, and that you wanted to wait until you had another plan in place." She paused, surveying him carefully. "Do you have another plan in mind?"
The way Severus was looking at her now set her on edge. "Only that you stay away from Malfoy Manor, stay out of trouble, and stay away from Snatchers; that you stay safe."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "But Severus... You are the one who's supposed to—"
"I know."
"Well... What are you going to do? What are you going to tell him?"
"I don't know yet. He won't be pleased." Severus's obsidian orbs were now robbed of any liveliness from before. "But perhaps he'll show me mercy."
Hermione froze. The world had come to a screeching halt, and all Hermione could think about was the wrongly accused wizard in front of her, who now appeared to be on the verge of disappearing from her grasp.
"Severus," she whispered agitatedly, "what are you—"
"I simply came to warn you, Hermione. He has every intention of taking you soon."
"When?"
"That isn't important, Hermione—"
"When?" she demanded, taking hold of Severus's face in desperate want to be heard.
"I'm not sure I should tell you."
"Why the hell not?"
Severus's features became stern and harsh, reminiscent of the once unforgiving professor she had had. "Because it would be just like you to do something foolish."
Hermione all but growled in frustration. He was right, of course, which aggravated her greatly, and he certainly read her intentions all too well, but it didn't change her resolve.
"Tell me, Severus. I mean it."
"No. I came to warn you, that was all."
"And what?" she challenged, her voice rising in alarm. "To tell me you have no other plan in place? To tell me you haven't figured out what the hell you're going to do?"
"No..."
"Then what?"
Severus went silent, his face freshly dejected and hopeless. Hermione's breath stalled when his eyes came back to her after looking away for an agonizing moment, and they had never quite looked that sad.
"I came to say goodbye, Hermione..."
A/N #2: Someone's in need of some serious saving...