That night found Hermione, Severus, Harry, Ron, Albus, Draco, and Remus in the Room of Requirement. Severus had brewed them very strong coffee, which Harry and Ron choked down and Hermione gulped gratefully. It had been a long day, and she suspected it would be a long night, as well.
"Are you ready to try?" Severus asked her, his hands on her shoulders, their foreheads pressed together. He found that he no longer cared what the others thought. This was his wife.
"Keep the coffee coming, and I'll do whatever you want," she joked lightly. He smirked at her.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Right!" Remus said loudly, causing the two to pull away from each other. He gave Severus a hard look and instructed Hermione to take out her wand. "We'll start with some basic duelling, get you warmed up." He assumed a duelling position, as did she. The other stood well behind her.
"Now," Remus said. "I want you to imagine that I am the threat. Protect them at all costs." He paused and then shouted "Stupefy!"
Protect them at all costs.
Protect them.
Protect him.
She threw up a shield, large enough to cover them all, and when Remus relaxed his stance, she dropped it and shouted "Deprima!" The ground at his feet erupted, sending him flying back several feet. He was quick to recover.
"Incarcerous!" She dodged it easily.
"Flipendo!" He dodged it and sent a silent stunner at her. It hit her in the shoulder, causing her to cry out. Then he focused on the group behind her, raising his wand.
"No!" She shouted. "Protego Horribilis!" The shield raised so quickly and so aggressively that Remus found himself flat on his back again. He climbed painfully to his feet, rubbing his sore arse, and met her eyes through the shield. With a murmured spell, she lowered it and glanced over her shoulder. She felt hands on her shoulders and lips pressed to the back of her head.
"You changed the form of Deprimo. Why?" Remus asked, grinning at her.
"I didn't really want to injure you. Changing its form makes it less intense." Remus looked to Severus who nodded to him.
"You could save us all," Remus said thoughtfully.
"No pressure, then." Ron said sardonically from across the room.
"Remember what I told you," said Albus. "Together–you're stronger together."
"I don't think she needs him," Draco drawled. "She did all of that on her own." Hermione turned to face Severus, who had an expression of unadulterated pride on his harsh features.
"What's the incantation?" She asked.
"There isn't one." She blinked. "You must conjure it. Connect your mind and your heart. It will come."
"I find it difficult to believe the Carrows are that connected." Harry mumbled. Hermione chewed her lip. Severus held her at arm's length, careful of her injured shoulder.
"Close your eyes." She did. "Do you remember how I taught you to ground in France?" She nodded. "Do that again. This time, the light isn't white. It's fire. All consuming fire. Feel it. Want it. Imagine its intent. Imagine how you will use it." He could feel the power, the focus in her skin. She took deep even breaths. He gripped her shoulders, and it helped to keep her focus centred and even.
And then she flinched and hissed and shook her wand hand.
"What happened?" Remus asked from behind her. She rubbed at her wrist and laughed slightly.
"It burned. My wand burned."
"There were no flames," Remus remarked.
"She broke concentration," Severus said, but he was smiling proudly at her. "They would have come if she'd kept her focus."
"I think that's enough for tonight," Albus announced and everyone sighed in relief. "We'll resume tomorrow morning post breakfast." Hermione sagged tiredly, scrubbing a hand across her eyes.
"I'm going to speak with Draco alone, if you'll excuse us," Severus murmured into her ear. She nodded tiredly, but wasn't sure where she should go. Sensing her thoughts, he brushed a kiss across her lips. "My quarters. I'll join you shortly." Grateful, she slipped her fingers from his and took her leave behind the others.
It felt almost wrong to be entering a Professor's quarters, but at the moment, Hermione was too tired to think about it too much. Their packed bags sat on the sofa, and she picked through until she found some comfortable joggers and one of Severus' grey t-shirts. She changed, casting a cleansing charm on the clothes she'd been wearing, and tucked them back into the bag with the rest of their things.
She was bone-tired. Almost too tired to light a fire, but she managed, and summoned a house elf to bring something to eat. They hadn't eaten since that afternoon and it was after 9:00. She'd just settled in with a bacon sandwich and tea when the wards shimmered and Severus entered looking tired and worn. He dropped onto the sofa next to her and snatched a sandwich from the tray, eating gratefully. She offered him a smile and he returned it tightly.
"How is Draco?" She asked after a long silence. "Is he holding up alright?"
"No," Severus answered simply. "Like I said, he's not cut out for this. It's amazing he's made it this far. They've tortured him, he's lost sleep. He's a walking knot of raw nerves." Hermione pressed her lips together, feeling silly for having asked. "We have two more days," he continued, reaching over to brush her away from her face. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Their dinner forgotten, she led him to bed.
They didn't make love that night. She curled against his chest, and he stroked her hair and back until her breath evened and he was sure she was sleeping. He soon followed.
-V-
The next day, Hermione managed to produce small flames from the tip of her wand. They danced and teased and flickered and she'd never been so proud of something in her life. Harry and Ron whooped, Albus and Remus patted her shoulders heartily, and Severus planted a kiss on her mouth that left her mind reeling. And then he promptly stepped back and announced "Again."
"She's exhausted, Severus." Remus said.
"The battle will be even more exhausting. Again."
"I wonder," Hermione mused, causing an impatient tapping in Severus' foot. "Oh, stop it. This has merit. I'm not just stalling."
"Go on, then."
"If I have an incantation for Fiendfyre–If I have something to attach that feeling to–"
"There is no incantation, Granger," her husband said in exasperation.
"Shh!" She hissed at him. He smirked at her. "If there was one, meaning if I were to make one, it might work better."
"You intend to invent a spell for a spell that already exists?" Albus asked, caught between feeling impressed and incredulous.
"Why not?" She asked. Severus shrugged and gestured for her to try.
"Okay, the one I've thought of incorporates my intent and its nature. Now I'm nervous."
"Go on, wife." She raised her wand, took a moment to regain her focus, and pushed that feeling of heat and fire and centred energy forward.
"Protegus Ignis." And there was a reason everyone stood behind her because a great flame burst forth from the tip of her wand, heating her entire body thoroughly. The flame took the form of her patronus, a bouncing otter and flickered and danced around her body until she released a deep breath and brought back the energy into her own solar plexus. The heat dissipated and Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes.
She'd done it. On the second day, she'd found a way to yield it. The room was silent, and after a moment, she began to wonder if she'd imagined the entire thing.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, wrenching her around by the shoulders. "Hermione, you've done it! You've saved us!" It was only the second time she'd seen her friend cry. She gasped when he hugged her so tightly she feared her ribs might brake.
"Brilliant," Ron breathed. "I'm terrified of you now, but brilliant!" Harry released her and she looked around the room. Draco looked tired, but relieved. Severus looked more proud than she'd ever seen him. Albus looked older somehow. His gaze moved fluidly between her and her husband. Remus was beaming for all he was worth.
She felt tired, but pleased. The war wasn't won, but they had a strategy. She stepped toward Severus, who drew her into his embrace and offered her support.
"It would appear that you were wrong, Albus," he rumbled. "It's not us together. She doesn't need me." Yes, I do. "She did this all on her own."
"Oh, Severus," Albus sighed. "You are so blind to your own strengths."
"He's right," Hermione said, tilting her head up to look at him. "I couldn't have done that without you. Without your calm, your knowledge. Your support. I needed you for that." I need you. He searched her eyes, unable to bring forth the words 'You may have to do this without me.'
One day left.
"What are you reading?" Severus asked her the night before the battle.
"More theory and strategy."
"Come to bed."
"I will soon." Her focus was on her books and the messy notes she scribbled on some spare parchment.
"You're exhausted." She shook her head and mumbled that she was fine. "No you're not. Come to bed."
"You lot have made it very clear that this battle rides on me now. If I fail, we lose." The palm of her hand connected with the coffee table in a hard Smack! Severus knelt next to her on the floor, pushing her bushy hair out of her face.
"It's a lot of pressure," he agreed. "I have faith in you. We all do. But you can't do this on no sleep." She sighed, but nodded reluctantly. She let him pull her to her feet and into bed.
"This could be our last night–"
"Don't even think that," she said sternly. "I'm fighting for you, too, so you damn well better fight for me. Don't you dare give up." He looked at her sadly, nodded slowly, and held her tightly.
It could be their last night.
In the morning, they woke early and made love. He took his time, memorising every curve and dimple, every sigh and breath. And she did the same with him, committing the feel, taste, and scent of him to memory.
She would take them back to New Orleans, when all of this was done.
Afterward, they dressed in warm clothes, and as he was buttoning his coat, he turned to her with a thoughtful expression.
"Nineteen years, nine months, three days." He whispered. "You're twenty years old today."
"Happy birthday to me," Hermione scoffed. He took her hands in his and looked her in the eye with that deep intensity he often did.
"We'll celebrate at home. When we go home." And she smiled then, and nodded.
"When we go home."