The End of Life:

1998…

Hermione stared at Harry with wide, sympathetic eyes as she saw the dawning realization in his that he'd been wrong to despise Professor Snape for so many years. Snape had been working for their side the whole time. Snape had loved Harry's mother. Snape was not entirely the foul-tempered wretch that literally every child that came through Hogwarts thought, but just a lonely man trying to survive in the crossfire of the two most powerful wizards of the last millennium.

And if what she heard was right, the bullying prat known as Draco Malfoy might actually just be a kid who had been acting out because he hated his existence of forced servitude to the Dark Lord; the threat of his mother's life constantly hanging over his head.

Not that that excuses either of their behaviour entirely, but it makes it more understandable.

The squeak of the door opening at the same time as a warning growl coming from behind had Hermione and the boys jolting into movement, but it was too late.

A clawed hand landed on Hermione's right shoulder, digging in unmercifully, making her scream in startled pain as it dug into something vital for the working of her arm. "Gotcha, little witch," a snarling voice breathed practically in her ear. "There's no one to save you from me this time."

I know that voice. My nightmares know that voice.

Greyback. Oh god.

He snatched her wand from her almost useless hand and threw it to who knows where.

The girl shuddered in revulsion at the rancid smell radiating off her capture. Fenrir Greyback's growling voice didn't help either as it brought back memories of her time in captivity at Malfoy Manor where he'd all but raped her with his eyes; slobbering and licking his lips hungrily the entire time that she was being 'questioned' by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry and Ron had their wands pointed at the werewolf in an instant. "Let her go!" Ron demanded.

They'd forgotten about the megalomaniac who was exiting the hut at the same time as Greyback caught them.

"Tsk tsk, Fenrir. Playing with your food already?" a hissing voice added itself to the conversation.

The boys spun and faced the new threat.

Hermione tried to pull out of Fenrir's grasp, but only tore her skin and muscles further for her trouble. He hooked his other arm around her neck and pulled her back against his chest. Her head barely reached his pectoral muscles, and she could feel him bending over her, sniffing her hair in the most disgusting way. Please, no. I think his stench alone is going to make me ill.

Voldemort stood in the light streaming from the hut, appearing unconcerned with the tableau just outside the door. Draco hovered on the middle step, looking torn as to what to do now. On the one hand, Harry had just saved his life from the inferno now known as the Room of Requirement. On the other, Draco had to do what his master said or suffer the consequences. She wouldn't want to be him.

"Young Potter," Voldemort said almost pleasantly. "I knew you would find me eventually. Our day of reckoning has finally arrived." He nodded civilly to a clear space near Hagrid's pumpkin patch. "Shall we?"

Harry nodded slowly, eyes wide behind his black rimmed glasses.

"Harry, no!" Hermione called, not ready to watch her best friend die.

"I have to, Mione," he said quietly, his eyes saying a final goodbye as they flicked between her and Ron.

Please, Harry. Don't do this.

He has too.

I don't care.

Yes, you do.

Hermione gave the boy who'd been her first ever real friend the smallest possible nod of acceptance, eyes welling with tears. "I love you, Harry."

Harry smiled rather sadly. "Love you too, Mione. And you, Ron."

Ron choked on his wretched sounding, "Harry," as the boy in question turned to follow the Dark Lord, his shoulders set in a determined line.

"How touching," Voldemort mocked as he waited for Harry to stop and take up a traditional dueling pose.

And when Harry did, Voldemort had the gall to hold up a hand in a wait motion. The vile wizard turned his attention back to the hut where Draco was still standing. "It seems that your task has been taken care of for you, Malfoy. Get back to the battle and make yourself useful."

Draco gulped, grey eyes burning with fear and hatred that Hermione could only see because she was so close to him. "Yes, Sir." He flicked his eyes at her with an indecipherable expression and then spun on the spot and Apparated away.

Voldemort than glanced down at his pet snake. "Nagini, are you hungry? I see a red headed weasel that would make you a fine dinner." The snake turned its head and contemplated Ron, flickering its forked tongue on the air as if tasting him already. And just like that, she flowed across the grass back towards the hut at an astonishing rate.

"Run, Ron!" Hermione screamed, not even thinking that he might be able to take on the snake by himself and win.

For once in his life, Ron listened to her the first time and ran, throwing hexes at the snake over his shoulder as he did but losing speed and grace because of it. Not a single one hit the snake despite most of them being aimed fairly well. Instead, they all bounced off as if Nagini was shielded from harm. Voldemort must have her under a dozen protection spells. I would too if she was my key to immortality. It's going to take more than hex to kill that snake.

Hermione whimpered as the massive snake caught up to Ron less than a quarter of the way back up the hill, twining around his feet and knocking him face first into the grass. She turned her head away, gagging, as he screamed while Nagini struck at him repeatedly, images of just how big those fangs were flooding her mind.

"Ron," she whispered brokenly, heart breaking for the loss of her friend, knowing there was no way he would survive such a vicious attack.

Greyback chuckled, grinding what felt like a beater bat against her backside, making Hermione squirm away as much as she could from the repugnant erection, tears streaming down her face unheeded when Ron's screams stopped abruptly. "Aw, was that your lover, little witch? How sad."

"Go take a flying leap off a cliff, you vile fucker." Hermione gave up all pretense at ladylike behaviour as she fought to escape her captor, not caring how much her arm hurt. She scratched and kicked. She even turned her head and tried to bite him.

The werewolf retaliated by growling and grasping her by the neck with his left hand, digging his claws in and squeezing until Hermione's vision started to dim from lack of air.

He didn't let up until she went limp in his grasp. "Give up, little bitch?"

She didn't bother to answer. All she could do was sob quietly, turning her blurry eyes back towards Harry.

That wasn't any better, it turned out.

By some unspoken signal, both boy and monster had pointed their wands at the same time and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

Brilliant green light filled the early morning dawn, blinding Hermione for a few moments. When she could see again, both Harry and Voldemort were lying motionless on the ground.

"HARRY!" The scream was ripped from her throat.

Fenrir was laughing almost hysterically as he tore at her jumper with uncaring claws, slashing her skin in the process. He threw her forwards onto the ground. She caught herself by her hands, ignoring her now screaming shoulder, and tried to scramble back onto her feet, run / crawling away for maybe two metres before a heavy form pounced on her from behind, pushing the air from her lungs and grabbing a huge handful of her overabundant hair. Trying to pull away only succeeded in rebounding her back to him. Her jeans and knickers were slashed off in an instant as he growled happily, "No one to stop me now. No one. No one."

Her bra was literally torn off of her, leaving more slashes in her skin. His filthy, dirt encrusted hand landed on her chest and squeezed, nails digging into the soft flesh, making her whimper and cry out incoherently.

"I like when they cry," Fenrir panted in her ear. She gagged as malodourous drool dripped down her neck. "Do it some more."

He licked her shoulder and neck in a wide swath, making her shudder. But she refused to make another sound. She refused to make this any better for the monster than it already was.

This is not how I wanted to experience sex for the first time. Not by a longshot.

Just after she heard the sound of a zipper being lowered and felt the vile man / beast shifting on top of her, another flash of green light surrounded her. The werewolf's weight was suddenly still and heavy, crushing the breath from her lungs.

Severus was forced to listen to and imagine whatever dreadful scenarios where taking place outside over the sluggish sound of his heart beating in his eardrums.

The flaming venom being transported through his veins had already started its paralytic work and Severus was in danger of dying in a curled up ball. Refusing to go in such a pathetic fashion, he used his willpower to command his limbs to lie himself flat out on his back.

And then a scream from Miss Granger inspired him to try a little harder. Groaning silently, he wheezed for air and rolled over, then pushed himself forward with his feet, which were working better than his hands for the moment, inching towards the doorway in what had to be the slowest and most undignified belly crawl of all time. Thank Merlin none of the students are here to see this.

What felt like an eternity later, she screamed again, this time Potter's name, and he still had an arm's length to go to be able to see out the doorway.

Determined that he wouldn't fail at this one last thing, knowing the best student he'd ever taught was probably being assaulted at this very moment by a werewolf that enjoyed molesting and eating children as often as he could get away with it, Severus gave one last, incredibly desperate push with his feet as he shook his wand out of the sheath strapped to his forearm.

Finally. Finally, he could see out the door into the dawn, a trembling hand on the top step barely holding him up.

The sight of Greyback's bare, hairy arse poised over a tiny and silent form was more than enough to inspire the mouthed invocation of the killing curse.

As the brilliant green light faded out, Severus was relieved to see Greyback's form lying dormant. He was still on top of Miss Granger, but Severus had nothing left with which to help her. He could only hope he hadn't been too late to save her from pain or being bitten.

With the last of his magical power and physical energy drained, his limbs feeling like unresponsive fence posts, and his supply of oxygen diminishing, Severus' wand fell from nerveless fingers. He gave up any attempt at keeping his head and upper body up, sprawling half down the stairs. What an ignominious way to go. Please don't let any of the students see this, either.

Somehow, Miss Granger didn't count in his plea.

Gasping for air, Hermione heaved up onto her hands and knees and shrugged the heavy body off her back. Stumbling onto her wobbly feet, she looked around for her rescuer.

All she saw was corpses.

And a snake who had already devoured half of Ron, only his jean clad legs still visible. Oh fuck. That's wrong. Rooooonnnnn.

Overwhelmed, and sickened beyond her endurance, her stomach revolted, sending her back to her hands and knees. But there was nothing in her stomach to evacuate. She hadn't eaten anything in forever; the bit of bread and cheese she'd had for lunch yesterday already digested and no longer present.

When the dry heaves gave up wracking her body in painful ways, Hermione wiped her eyes and copiously running nose with a shredded sleeve, then climbed back onto her feet, the scraps of her jeans flopping uselessly from the waistband like a weird four piece skirt. She couldn't do anything about them, not without her wand, but she did tie her jumper together as best as she could over her bleeding breasts.

She once again looked for her rescuer and finally spotted him collapsed in the doorway of Hagrid's hut, upper body nearly draped down the steps bonelessly. Oh Merlin!

"Professor!"

Hermione ran to the prone man, kneeling on the bottom step and lifting his head and shoulders up, pushing him backwards with great difficulty with only one useful arm, until he was far enough back in the hut so that she could get in too. She pulled her secret favourite professor up into a sitting position by his robes against the doorframe.

"Professor?" she whispered, seeing his closed eyes, afraid she was already too late. His black robes were sticky with blood from the dripping gashes on his neck, and his already pale skin was nearly transparent. She hadn't seen him since the night he murdered Dumbledore, and she was shocked to see how much weight he'd lost. His cheekbones stood out like sharp blades above hollow cheeks and his robes hung off his broad shoulders in a loose fashion that she was sure they never had before.

"Please, Professor Snape. Wake up." Hermione had never felt so alone in her life. Her friends were gone. Her parents were lost to her; Obliviated away to Australia for their safety. Even Professor McGonagall was gone, the first to fall by Voldemort's hand when the battle started so many hours ago. She had no one.

Severus had felt the motion of movement in his head, but nothing from the neck down. He could hear her pleading voice calling to him. He wanted to open his eyes for her, but wasn't sure if there was any point; he was only moments away from death. Was there any point in getting her hopes up?

Desperate, Hermione patted his cheek tentatively, feeling the cold of death on his skin. "God, don't do this to me. Not you too," she whispered.

Severus could not bring himself to ignore the desperate plea in her voice, so with a monumental effort and a wheeze, he opened his pitch black eyes.

Hermione smiled at him in relief, pretty sure it was the first time she'd ever actually smiled at the grumpy professor who apparently lived to insult her intelligence and schoolwork. "Hi," she said inanely, thinking that might also be the stupidest thing she'd ever said to him.

Her smile is pretty. When was the last time someone actually smiled at me? Severus felt compelled to make an attempt at returning the gesture.

His lips actually twitched upwards.

That was a first too. At least that Hermione had ever seen.

They stared at each other for maybe half a minute, the only sound his three, pain filled, breaths.

Realizing time was short, Hermione asked, "Is there anything I can do save you?"

Knowing just how far gone he was, and that none of the potions in his pocket could save him now without the anti-venom to counteract Nagini's cursedly powerful toxin, Severus flicked his eyes from side to side in his best possible version of a head shake.

Sighing mournfully, and resigning herself to losing yet another favourite person, she asked the question that had been burning in her mind for almost a year. "Why did you kill him?"

Since speaking was undoubtedly beyond his remaining abilities now, Snape raised a brow slightly and flicked his eyes up and down her battered and bleeding body in a pointed fashion. Merlin, that's a lot of skin showing. It has been way too long since I saw that much creamy flesh.

Bad Severus, his conscience chided. You shouldn't be looking at a student like that.

But she's right there, and of age, the smartest witch I've ever met, radiantly beautiful even covered in blood, technically not my student since last year, and I'm fucking dying. Give me a break.

Granted. Look your fill. Just don't let her catch you.

Thank you.

Blushing fiercely, remembering that she was hardly covered in way not even a desperate lady of the evening would call a decent fashion, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and double checked that a piece of her jeans was covering the important bits. "Not Greyback. I know why you did that. And thank you, by the way. Your timing was about as good as it could get."

Thank Merlin and Circe and... Dumbledore. Why the hell not.

Hermione smiled again when he looked relieved, as much as a pale, dying, near skeleton with pitch black hair and eyes can. "I mean Dumbledore. Why did you murder him?"

Inspired to try a little harder, Snape rolled his head from side to side a fraction or two.

"You didn't murder him?"

He shook his head again, a little more emphatically this time. And then he opened his mouth, and with a pained expression and barely a breath of air to support it, he whispered, "Dying. Mercy. Planned."

Hermione blinked as she made sense of that. "Oh," was all she could think of for a few seconds. And then she smiled at Snape for the second time ever. "That's all right, then."

His lips twitched up again. Glad I have your approval.

Not sure where the urge came from, Hermione reached forward and brushed a lock of his surprisingly silky hair back that was falling into his eye from his head shaking. They both froze as her finger trailed across the skin of his temple.

Fucking Merlin's hairy arse, she's touching me! Perhaps heaven has come early? Not that I deserve it.

Holy hell, I'm basically caressing Snape! And I haven't been turned to stone! The rumours of a Medusa curse are entirely unfounded. So why is he so lonely? He's not that bad looking. Actually... His eyes are beautiful. They're like the deepest reaches of space, glowing with stars. How have I never noticed that before?

I should tell her. Maybe she can fix this. Maybe she'd let me touch her back if I wasn't dead?

With their eyes locked together, and her trembling fingers still on his temple and cheek, Snape forced out four more words. "Fawkes. Stand. Office. Tuner."

What?

"You want me to go back in time? Try and fix this mess?" she asked incredulously after she made sense of the words. When he nodded with his eyes, Hermione sucked in a breath and nodded once in return. "Okay. Okay. I can do that." There was nothing left for her here anyway. She had nothing to lose by trying.

Hermione kept her eyes locked on his, and her hand on him in comfort, stroking his silky hair slowly, tears building again as she saw the light in his obsidian eyes fading and he hadn't taken a stuttered breath since his last words. Leaning forward, she whispered in his ear, "Just so you know, despite how much of an arsehole you were, you were always my favourite teacher. You were the only one who challenged me."

Severus took his last breath on an inhale of her scent of blood, female, and vanilla scented shampoo. Definitely heaven. And you were my favourite student, too, Miss Granger.

His last sight was of a young angel, her golden brown hair surrounding her head like a halo in the lantern light, and her firewhisky eyes the kindest thing he'd seen since he'd lost Lily as his only genuine friend.

When the venom finished shutting down his body, Severus died with hope in his frozen heart and one last thought in his clever mind:

Maybe I haven't completely failed after all, because if there is one thing Miss Granger is good at, it's succeeding at whatever she puts her brilliant mind to.

Good luck... Hermione.