A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of this fic. Thank you all for your lovely reviews.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Chapter Thirty-One

Four days after Hermione's hearing with the Wizengamot, a letter arrived for her with the Wizengamot seal.

Severus glanced at the clock. It was barely noon. Like all other weekdays, Hermione was at Hogwarts studying for her NEWTs, and he knew she wouldn't be back for hours. Severus paced. He couldn't very well Floo there himself, and the thought of using Minerva as a glorified owl didn't exactly fill him with joy.

It had been over a year since he last cast a Patronus; not since leading Potter to the Sword of Gryffindor in the Forest of Dean, and he had never attempted to cast one wandless. No time like the present to try, and if that failed he could always Floo Potter. He shuddered. Even the notion.

He brought the memory of Hermione panting her love for him to the forefront of his mind.

"Expecto Patronum."

Instead of the silver doe, something smaller and with wings flapped into the room. Severus gaped. What fresh hell was this?

The rook took a turn around the room, then perched on the back of the armchair and tilted its head, awaiting instructions. Severus' eyes narrowed. That was insulting.

"Tell Hermione there's a letter from Kingsley," he said.

The rook nodded and swept from the room.

Severus leant against the sofa armrest. Little was known about why Patronuses changed, other than it occurring due to strong emotions. Since it had been so long since he had cast one, he had no idea when the change had taken place. Other than being slightly insulting, he wasn't sure how he felt about the appearance of the rook. They were intelligent enough, he supposed, and loyal.

The Floo turned green, and Hermione came through, looking slightly dishevelled.

"I ran down to Hogsmeade as soon as I got your message," she panted, removing her bag and jacket. "Your Patronus is a rook?"

Severus snorted. "Apparently."

"Where's the letter?"

He pushed himself off of the armrest. "Dining room, but you need to calm down first."

"I am calm," she said, looking anything but.

He chuckled and took her hands. "I can practically hear your heart racing."

"That's not going to stop until I read that letter," she muttered.

Severus lowered his head; kissing first one cheek, then the other before capturing her mouth. She sighed and melted into his body.

"While that was nice, I don't feel calmer," she said as he pulled back. "Let's get this over with."

In the dining room, the letter leant innocently against a transfiguration tome.

Hermione's hands shook as she reached for the letter. She opened the seal and unrolled the parchment. Severus watched her go from trepidation, to disbelief, then to shock. Her face drained of all colour, and the letter fell from her grasp.

"Hermione?"

She buried her face in her hands as sobs wracked her body, collapsing onto a chair.

Severus grabbed the letter, dread settling like a rock in his stomach. It was short, barely ten rows. The words all seemed to blur, but he caught some; "I'm sorry", "...regret having to inform you", "reject your proposal."

Reject.

They had rejected Hermione's proposal.

He threw the parchment on the table, paced the room. His chest felt tight. It couldn't be true. Her proposal had been sound, her logic flawless. Severus stopped in front of the large window overlooking the garden. He could see his faint outline, black and severe, as well as Hermione's hunched up form at the table. He closed his eyes. Hermione's sobs cut right through his insides.

Stepping away from the window, he knelt by Hermione's side.

"Breathe, love," he said, gently pulling her hands from her face.

She blinked rapidly, fresh tears falling from her eyes. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," he admitted. Rising, he pulled her to her feet. "Come." He led her to the sitting room, where he sat and pulled her onto his lap. He kept running his hand over her back as her tears dampened his shirt.

Severus wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but it was long enough for Hermione's sobs to quiet and her tight grip on his shirt to become slack. He pushed her hair from her face to find her asleep. He sighed. It was probably for the best. He scrubbed his hand over his face. He had no idea what to do – if there was anything they could do.

Legs starting to go numb, he shifted her weight off him. She let out a whimper, hand fisting in his shirt. He managed to settle on his back against the armrest, with Hermione splayed out on top of him, still asleep. He summoned his book from the side table and settled in.

Severus had almost finished his book when Hermione woke up a few hours later.

She blinked blearily, wiping at her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost six."

Sighing, she shifted. "I'm sorry for blubbering all over you."

"Don't be. How are you feeling?"

She laid her head back down on his chest. "Sad, angry, drained, disbelieving. Pick one, or all of them." She sniffled. "I'm so bloody tired of crying!"

Severus closed his book. "I know."

"What were they thinking?" Pushing off him, she sat. Her eyes were still red-rimmed and glassy. "How many more people will die because of this?"

Severus swung his legs over the side of the sofa, bringing himself to a seated position. "It doesn't bear thinking about."

Hermione groaned. "I need to tell Malfoy. He knows about the proposal, I can't keep this from him."

He touched her knee. "Go tomorrow."

"But-"

He shook his head. "You're still in shock, Hermione. Wait until the morning, once it has had time to sink in. You know I don't usually condone it, but some Dreamless Sleep may be good for you tonight."

She sighed. "You're probably right."

"You need to eat something first; you didn't have lunch, and Dreamless Sleep is disagreeable on an empty stomach."

She smiled slightly and covered his hand with hers. "I know."

They ordered take away and ate in the sitting room. The TV was on, but neither of them paid it much attention. Once Hermione was in bed – with the help of the Dreamless Sleep – Severus stayed up with a cup of tea and his thoughts. He rubbed his right wrist, where the Suppression Cuff had been. If it hadn't been for Hermione, he would have been in the same situation as the other prisoners were now. If he was still alive, that is.

Severus sighed. He had never wanted a drink more in his entire life than he did right then.

Hermione's legs felt like lead walking up the garden path, and not only because the Dreamless Sleep had knocked her out for almost sixteen hours. She had no idea what to say to Draco. What could she say? In effect, she was delivering his death sentence. Swallowing hard, she knocked softly on the yellow front door.

Andromeda's smile was tight as she admitted her. "He's in the sitting room."

The atmosphere in the house was very different from the last time she was there. Then, it had been full of life and light. Now it felt dark and pressing, and it made Hermione want to leave. But she couldn't. Not yet, anyway.

Even though it was May, a fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

The sofa seemed to swallow Malfoy's thin frame, and Hermione bit her lip. It had barely been a month since she saw him last, but he looked so much worse. It brought back memories of visiting Lucius, mere weeks before his passing.

"Hello, Draco," she said, taking a seat and folding her hands in her lap.

He quirked a blonde eyebrow. "They turned down your proposal, then?"

Her mouth opened, then closed. "How did you know?"

He shrugged a thin shoulder. "You called me Draco. I don't think you would have done that if you had good news."

Hermione's throat closed, and she blinked away tears. "I'm sorry."

Malfoy scoffed."Why are you sorry? You tried, didn't you? It's not your fault the Wizengamot are knobs."

Chuckling, she looked away and raised a hand to brush away her tears. "That is true."

"It was too good to be true, anyway," he said softly. "Do you think-" coughs wracked through his body, and he reached for the glass of water on the coffee table. "Do you think Severus would visit me after his sentence is up?" he asked once he was able to speak.

She nodded. "I'll ask him."

His blue eyes were watery as he looked at her. "Thank you."

She didn't know how to reply.

Hermione blinked blearily, unsure what had awoken her. The room was dark and silent, and the bed was empty. Rolling over, she sat up gingerly. She ran her hands over her face. Seeing Draco earlier that day had been hard. He seemed to have given up already, and it sent shivers down her spine. Severus' reaction when she recounted her visit – along with Draco's request – had been equally chilling only because his face had gone completely blank. It was worrying.

A few minutes went by, and Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed and reached for her dressing gown. Both the bathroom and his room lay dark, and Hermione grabbed her slippers before going downstairs. It too lay quiet, and Hermione frowned.

As soon as she opened the side door, she saw lights coming from the garage. What was he doing brewing in the middle of the night? She knocked lightly on the door, hearing the unmistakable sounds of Severus preparing ingredients. When she got no answer, she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Three cauldrons emitted thick grey smoke, and it was extremely hot and humid in the room. Severus was bowed over the worktop, furiously writing something down in the notebook she got him for Christmas. A cutting board with two half-chopped frog brains sat precariously next to his elbow. He didn't look up when she called his name.

"No, that's not right," he muttered, crossing out what he'd written and turning the page. There was something slightly unhinged about his behaviour and appearance, and it made Hermione's stomach clench.

"Severus?" she said softly. "What are you doing?"

"Brewing," he replied – his tone implying he thought her question inane – but didn't look up from his scribbling.

"I can see that," she replied, holding back the bite in her tone. Something was clearly wrong. "But it's the middle of the night. Surely it can wait until morning?"

He slammed his hand down on the worktop, making the cutting board clatter to the ground and Hermione jump. "It can't wait! They can't wait!" He whipped around, and she recoiled at the look of panic on his face. "They will die – Draco will die – and there is nothing I can do."

Hermione's heart sank. She should have known that was what this was about. "Severus," she coaxed, but he had turned his back on her again.

One of the cauldrons let out a large belch, and the murky yellow potion bubbled over. Severus swore and cast a vanishing charm on the ruined potion. Hermione wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to accomplish, but it was probably for the best to let him get it out of his system. She preferred him lashing out to keeping everything bottled up. It may prove destructive for now, but it was better in the long term.

With choppy movements, he put the cutting board back on the worktop and vanished the bits of frog brain scattered over the floor. Taking a new brain from the jar, he started slicing it vigorously. The mucus keeping the brains fresh was very slippery, and Hermione knew it was an accident waiting to happen. Sure enough, a few seconds later he hissed as the knife slipped off the brain and into his finger. Throwing down the knife, he let out a bellow and cleared the contents of the worktop, sending it clattering to the floor. Then he spun around and sank to the ground, his back against the counter. He rested his elbows on his bent knees and lowered his head in his hands. A thin rivulet of blood ran from his cut finger and down his arm, staining the cuff of his shirt red.

Hermione exhaled a shaky breath. Aiming an Evanesco at the cauldrons, she then doused the flames. She called his name before approaching, as not to startle him. The floor was cold on her legs through her dressing gown as she sat in front of him, and she shivered.

"Let me see," she cooed, prying his hand from his grip. The cut wasn't very big or deep, and she vanished the blood before doing a healing spell. He hissed as the skin knitted itself back together.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, still looking at the floor.

"It's all right," she said softly.

Severus lifted his head, and his eyes were glassy. "It's not all right. I could have hurt you or caused an explosion. I was being careless, and that is inexcusable." He blinked and looked away.

Legs protesting from the position, Hermione moved to sit next to him, burrowing into his side and leaning her head on his shoulder. "It's all right to be upset or angry," she said at length. "I'm so angry and sad that I don't know what to do."

They sat side by side for a while longer, until Hermione was so cold her teeth were chattering. With some difficulty, she stood and extended her hand. "Come back to bed, Severus."

Taking her hand, he let her pull him to her feet. Neither of them spoke as they went back into the house and upstairs. Hermione removed her dressing down and slid into bed, Severus following seconds later. He reached for her hand in the dark, pulling her body into his and burying his face in her shoulder. She slid a leg between his knees and wrapped her arm tightly around his back.

"I don't want him to die." Severus' breath was warm on her neck when he spoke.

Hermione didn't have to ask to know who he was referring to. "I don't either."

His back trembled slightly under her hand, and she suddenly became filled with such rage. How dare they? Unbidden, images of Severus in St. Mungo's before the bloody cuff was removed invaded her brain. It had been the trigger of all this. If he had been in someone else's care, would they have noticed what was happening to him? Would they have cared? Severus would have been the first one to die, and no one would have so much as raised an eyebrow.

Her neck became damp, and she held him tighter, letting her own tears fall into his dark hair.


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