tw: mild insinuation of suicidal ideations (we know our poor boy struggled)

Valentine's Day dawned early for the two of them. It was storming outside, the sun barely visible through the breaks in the clouds. It was still freezing outside, Hazel and Sev grateful for a warm bed and a lit fireplace. Hazel woke to find the other side of the bed empty. Sev was standing nearby, placing a couple of things in a box. He froze as soon as he saw that her eyes were open. "It's so early… What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He set down the picture frame he'd been holding, crawling back into bed next to her.

"Sev, are you…" She reached out for him, wiping the silent tears from his face. "What's wrong?"

"I want you to promise me something. If anything happens to me… Make some of the recipes from the cookbooks in the kitchen. Keep some of the scarves in the wardrobe and wear them when it gets cold, even if they're Slytherin green. Hold onto the quilt my mum made. It's in the top of the closet. Make sure you remember me," he paused, his lip trembling as he finally met her eye, "make sure you remember me as the man who loved you, not the spy, the traitor, the man who killed Albus Dumbledore…"

"Sev, it's going to be okay," she promised, pulling him into her arms. "This is all going to work out. We have to believe it."

He gratefully buried his face in her hair, barely managing an "it's not" before his voice caught in his throat. "It's not. The Dark Lord wants… he'll have to… I love you. I love you so much, and I want you to remember that. Please. I love you."

Hazel frowned. He was talking like a man who knew his time was limited. Was Voldemort planning something? "I love you too," she assured him. "If Voldemort… if he does anything to you, damn Harry Potter, and Dumbledore's plan, and all of those... horcruxes? Is that what they're called? I'll kill him myself."

Looking up at her, he gave her a teary kiss. He didn't want her to be preemptively sad. He didn't want her to have to know, to have to live with it and count down the days. He'd only just figured it out himself. There was no way he could make it out of this war alive. It was something set in motion years before. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sev. We're going to be okay. We're going to be okay because if we aren't… like I said, I'll kill him myself."

It didn't take her long to put it together. Sev had seemed more preoccupied, more worried than normal. And that was saying something. She'd caught him looking over to her more often, coming over to kiss her for no reason, finding her out of the blue and asking if she'd come to work in the headmaster's office instead of her own. At first she didn't know why he was reaching for her more often, keeping her company even when he had work to do. And then she realized.

She'd caught him packing up a few things, sending more letters than usual, and looking a little more teary-eyed and sentimental when he thought she wasn't watching. He insisted that it was just the exhaustion. He promised he was fine, but Hazel put it together one day as they were working. She'd been grading essays on one side of his desk while he drafted a letter to the Ministry on the other. She looked up when she felt his eyes on her, smiling as she made eye contact with him. He smiled back, a smile tinged with sadness. So she reached out and squeezed his hand. He held onto her, the two of them somewhat awkwardly holding hands as they tried to write.

His time was limited. Dumbledore must have seen it, he must have known. Sev was supposed to die in the war. She didn't quite understand why, but it didn't take much thinking for her to put it together. "Snape." Alecto Carrow appeared in the doorway.

"What?" He set his quill down.

"We need you down in the Transfiguration corridor."

Sev sighed, promising he would be back soon. Hazel nodded, pretending to go back to work until she heard the door click shut behind them. "Professor Dumbledore." She stood, walking behind Sev's desk so she could get a better view of the old headmaster. "He has to die, doesn't he?"

Dumbledore nodded, telling her that, "Voldemort split his soul to make himself as immortal as he could, but he also sought out something called the Elder Wand, which is rumored to be the most powerful wand in existence, made by Death himself. He believes it necessary to defeat Harry."

"Your wand," she reasoned. "Which Voldemort must have… But Sev killed you, so the wand would answer to him… Voldemort's going to kill him so he can have the most powerful wand in existence for himself, so he can kill Harry… oh Merlin."

"It is a sacrifice that must be made."

"There has to be a way around it, though," Hazel said, anger welling up in her voice. "You must have found one. You knew. You knew the moment you asked him to kill you that he would have to die. You used him… kept him alive until the proper moment, and now he has to die for you, is that it? And you knew he'd do it, because he feels like he owes you everything, even now." The door opened before Dumbledore could answer. Hazel spun around to see Sev hovering in the doorway, unsure of what he had walked in on. She crossed the room in an instant, wrapping her arms around him.

He kissed the top of her head, asking, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"I - I can't…" Without another word, he knew. He looked up to Dumbledore's portrait. The headmaster had taken the moment of distraction to vanish. "I can't… If I say it, it'll come true and I'm not going to… There's got to be another way. I'm going to find another way."

"Hazel I must, I -"

"Don't say it." She looked up at him, noticing how red his own eyes had grown. "Please don't say it."

"I love you."

"I love you too." He leaned in for a kiss. There was nothing else to say. Neither of them was going to say it. But they both knew now.

Dozens of pairs of eyes stared down at them. All of the old headmasters and headmistresses were listening. Some of them pretended to be asleep as they tried to lean closer. Dumbledore's hat could be seen in the corner of another painting. Even he was listening. Hazel waved her wand, closing their bottles of ink and drying out their quills before leading him back to their quarters. "Sev, I… I'm going to find a way to figure this out. There has to be something. I… I'm not losing you to him again."

Without a word, he hung his cloak by the door. "I've already tried," he confessed, turning back to look at her. "I've tried. For the longest time I thought I… I thought there was no reason to question Dumbledore's plan. Part of me knew I was going to die at some point. I... I could've done it earlier. But I had to keep Potter safe, and every time I thought about it, I could hear you telling me not to. And I could hear you screaming when Dumbledore told you, so... I waited. I knew I was going to die in the war anyway, at some point. I may as well make it useful." He still had a hand on his cloak, not daring to look at her as he gave what amounted to a confession. "And then you came back and we… You gave me hope for the first time that there could be something nice after the war." He came back to where she stood, pulling her into his arms. "I don't… I don't want to die anymore. I had nothing after you left and Lily died… I forced myself to stay alive to protect Harry, but… I… I would drop into my memories whenever it felt like I couldn't do it anymore. I lived in the past so much, in a Pensieve and in the Mirror of Erised. And then you came back. You came back, and ever since… I've been so much happier. Hazel, it sounds so... so - I want to grow old with you. I want to love you for the rest of forever," he spoke into her shoulder. His voice nearly cracked as it hit him again: Dumbledore had planted him with the Elder Wand. He'd been marked for ages. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to. I won't let you," she swore, holding onto him tightly. "I'll find a way… there has to be a way. I love you, Sev, and we're going to have a real life after the war, I promise."