Hello, my dear readers!

Obviously, I did not pass my test. I went back to retake it, though, and I passed the second time. I am now mobile! Yay!

This chapter is the LAST chapter of PART TWO. Yes. This is happening. More on this below. :)

Thanks to all readers, and special thanks to all reviewers. I adore all of you, but the reviewers especially. :)

Summary: The Ministry Six stormed the Ministry once more, and Hermione was injured twice. Once by Dolohvo, per canon, but in this version she got herself together and kept fighting, until she was downed by Bellatrix- whom she killed. :) However, Bella's curse was poison and Severus could not heal her, which necessitated the use of a super special healing agent... like phoenix tears. But Fawkes has never cried for anyone... 'cept Harry.

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 32

Severus bounded up the rotating staircase, taking three, four steps at a time. There was only one goal in mind: the need to reach Harry Potter and the phoenix who could save her.

Before long he was banging at the wooden door, ignoring the portraits that were gaping him and his rudeness. "Open this right now, Albus!" Severus shouted. "She's dying and it's all your fault!"

The door swung inward, and Severus swooped into the room. He was moving as if he had been wearing robes, which would have billowed out around him, but he was still plainly dressed in his white button down and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his hair was still bound at his nape.

Dumbledore's office was in shambles. Potter looked weary, shell-shocked; the boy had cuts and bruises on his hands that had not come from the fighting. Here he was in one piece, with enough strength to destroy the room and valuable magical equipment while Hermione lay unmoving (or writhing if the convulsions had started again) in a hospital bed.

Dumbledore had the traces of a tear on his cheek, but any sadness he may or may not have felt was gone as he stood and faced Severus. "We were having an important conversation," the Headmaster said sternly, "that did not concern you, Severus. Harry had to-"

"I don't give a rat's arse about what Harry had to learn," Severus said dangerously. "Hermione is dying." He jerked his head at Harry. "We have a witness, Albus, so you can't go on about how she deserves it for leading them into danger or some other nonsense."

There was real fury in the old man's eyes now. "Then why are you here?"

Severus pointed at Harry. "Because he can save her," he snapped. "Potter. He dragged her into this mess and he may be the only person who can save her."

Harry looked back and forth between the Headmaster and the Potions Master. "The curse- Dolohov cursed her-"

"Yes, but that was was simple," Severus said, speaking quickly. "Bellatrix cursed her also. It's a poison of some kind that hasn't responded to anything thus far. But- but there is one more thing that we haven't tried, and it's the tears of a phoenix-"

"Fawkes has never cried for me before," said the Headmaster gravely. "I'm afraid there is nothing we can do, Severus, except make-"

"You bleating idiot, I didn't come here for you!" Severus roared. "I said I came for Potter, because Fawkes has cried for him- he still has a pure soul; if he asks perhaps the bird will!"

Harry stood, looking at Snape for a long moment before turning to face Fawkes. "Will you? Will you save Hermione?"

Severus directed his thoughts toward the bird, hoping that it could hear him- it was said that phoenixes could sometimes hear thoughts. I know she's killed and I know that she's done bad things but she's a good person, the kindest, most loving person I've ever known. She's capable of loving me- she's a good person you have to save her.

There was silence in the room, as Fawkes gazed at the Boy-Who-Lived while the Boy-Who-Lived stared back. Finally, from his perch the infant bird squawked. It was an ugly, featherless thing. Raising its stubby wings, it flapped them twice with another jarring cry.

Dumbledore looked at his phoenix oddly. "He says that he will," said the old man slowly. "I will come with you. Harry, if you would carry Fawkes we would be much obliged."

With quivering hands Harry picked the small bird up, using a gentleness that belied the shattered instruments and the blood on his palms. The bird chirruped happily.

They used the Floo, unwilling to be seen by students off to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. Severus went first, followed by Harry and then the Headmaster.

Madam Pomfrey was tending to Luna, who had just awoken. She nodded at Severus, eyes brightening at the lump of bird in Harry's palms. Severus led the way to Hermione's bed, pulling back the curtain only enough for them to enter.

In the brief minutes he had been gone, the sun had risen farther. A small window cast light on her body, sunken and still deteriorating. The poison was quick- the only sign she was alive was the whistling scrape of her breathing and the trembling of her hands.

"It's attacking her muscle function," Severus said in a low voice. "Tremors. There were tremors. Next, if I'm not mistaken, she will either sink into a coma or wake for an hour or so of hallucinations. Either way, her heart will give out and she will die."

Fawkes made a few singing sounds, undeveloped, but strong. Harry stroked his head with one finger, bringing him closer to Hermione. "What do I need to do?"

Severus went to the head of Hermione's bed, placing his long hands so that he could open her mouth and massage her throat at the same time. "Bring him closer," he ordered.

Harry did as he was told, until the bird was hovering over Hermione. Fawkes shuffled a few times, then settled and began to sing.

The notes were high and unsure, but soothing. Harry's eyes drifted shut, and he took in a shuddering breath. Severus felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The Headmaster sighed and stroked his beard. There was an indrawn breath from outside the curtain and the sound of someone weeping quietly.

Severus watched Fawkes with hope, with a beautiful hope blossoming from the point just inside his ribs, where his Hermione-feelings normally started. He watched the phoenix as it ducked its head, as it sang and sang and sang as a tear built in its eye.

Finally- finally one dropped into Hermione's open mouth. Then another, round and glistening and a milky blue rather than clear. He rubbed her throat, making her swallow.

The effect was immediate, even as the third tear fell. Her breathing came easier, the magic coursing through her as if the song was speeding it along. A fourth tear fell, and her color bettered.

That was the last one- Fawkes straightened and sang a few softer notes, drawing the song to a close.

He wanted to cry.

Severus felt his own tears building inside of him, now that the balm of the phoenix song was gone and the healing was only half done. Hours of listening wouldn't have been enough. He wanted to bury his face in Hermione's hair and cry.

"Thank you," he croaked, looking up so he could meet the bird's uncanny gaze.

It could understand him- it nodded its head once and tucked its head under its wing.

Severus smoothed his hand over Hermione's forehead. "Her temperature has gone down," he said, relief making him unsteady on his feet. "Poppy!"

The matron rushed over. "It worked?"

"I think so," he said, unable to keep a grin from his face. "It worked!"

His joy was growing and building at the same rate color was returning to Hermione's face until-

His left arm burned.

Reality came crashing down. "He's calling me," he told Dumbledore, meeting the man's eye. "Don't-" He stopped. He had wanted to say Don't leave her side for a moment, but he couldn't do that. "No. Make sure she's okay."

Dumbledore nodded wearily. "Of course, Severus. Go to him."

Darkness surrounded her, darkness that was calming and serene and gentle. She remembered music and warm hands and water that ended the pain, and the indisputable presence of Severus. It left and she stayed and sunk into the darkness again.

The pain was gone. That made her happy. That Severus came back and was near her again made her happier. Then he went away again and she listened to the voices of Ron and Ginny and Luna before falling asleep once more.

It was a struggle to try to wake up fully the next time she sensed him, but Hermione pulled herself from the comfort of darkness to reach him.

"Severus," she tried saying, but all that came out was a sigh.

It was dark all around, but a darker shape moved closer. "Hush," he murmured. A hand, warm and large and gentle, stroked her hair before cupping her cheek. "Rest."

She smiled up at him and turned her face to his palm, kissing the ball of his thumb. She could hear his quiet chuckle.

"Sleep, Hermione. You still need to heal."

After he left her bedside- had she woken or had she been dreaming? - Severus returned to his set of rooms. Three days. Three days she had been sleeping, alone in the farthest bed from the door. She was tucked into the wall, the curtain drawn around her. One window shone light down into the makeshift room.

The first day, after the fiasco at the Ministry, the Hospital Wing had been loud with the discharges as parents and all the children, save the Weasley boy, left. Hermione stayed in her corner bed and Severus only briefly stopped by to give Madam Pomfrey the ten potions Hermione would need to consume, along with the four for Weasley.

That night he had come to visit briefly, after Madam Pomfrey had finished healing him. He had returned from the Dark Lord's side for the second night in a row and had not come away unscathed this time. His bed in the dungeon beckoned, but he fell into the bed across from Hermione's and slept fitfully.

He awoke before dawn and reluctantly left the Hospital Wing after checking her over.

After dusk fell he checked her again, and then once more during the day. He had been unable to come immediately after sunset, but now- just now in the hour before the darkest of the morning- she had roused somewhat.

Severus wasn't quiet sure he liked the leaping in his belly and chest, like small fish were flinging themselves out of the water and flopping around in the air. He was a grown man and a master Occlumens, he should be able to control himself more than he was showing!

But that wasn't the case and he bloody well knew why.

Hermione had almost died. She had almost perished in that godforsaken isolated part of the goddamned Ministry of Magic and if she had died he didn't know what he would have done.

She had almost died in the Hospital Wing and there was no way that she would not have died in his arms because he would have held her in her last moments. He didn't care what Madam Pomfrey thought (although she probably had far too many ideas now) or Albus or Potter's little Gryffindor gang.

Hermione was his and she had almost died and a part of him would have died with her.

That scared him. More than the look in the Dark Lord's terrible face when he punished his Death Eaters to the brink of insanity for Bella's death. The thought of losing Hermione was worse than the wrath of the most powerful megalomaniac the world had seen in one hundred years.

Her voice came back to him, serious and solemn: "I don't know if I can content myself with 'maybe someday after the war' anymore, Severus."

He didn't know if he could content himself with maybe someday after the war either.

Although sound in his quiet rooms was still foreign, the patter of quiet footsteps that ended behind his armchair did not surprise Severus. The hand that reached down and stroked his cheek, turning his face toward her, did.

"The last day here and only now does Madam Pomfrey discharge me," Hermione said, an obvious attempt at lightness in her voice. "I missed the feast."

His gladness to see her was impossible to conceal. He grinned wryly, taking the hand that was on his face and holding it in his own as he stood. "It was rubbish. You missed nothing."

Hermione moved closer to him, squeezing his hand softly. "I missed you," she said quietly, taking another step. Her head was tilted up to meet his eyes. Her skin was still too pale, but her breathing was fine. Her eyes were dark in her face, her mouth held somewhere between trembling and determined. Please, her eyes asked. Please.

He drew her to him with his free arm, drawing it around her shoulders so he could hold her properly. "And I you."

They kept the embrace, Severus holding her as gently as he could so that it would not aggravate her injuries. There was so much that felt right about it all, Hermione pressed lightly into his body, her curves molding to his firmness, the cloud of bushy hair under his hand, the warmth they shared. Tenderness and mutual adoration, tenuous and sacred. .

There was something about almost losing her, a fierce desire to reaffirm she was alive himself, that made him bend to kiss her gently, tenderly, almost chastely. She clung to him, moving her mouth against his with increasing urgency. Her mouth was warm and sweet, her small tongue teasing him by darting in and out of his mouth and beckoning him to claim her as his own.

When they finally parted it was because Hermione was breathing hard and he was concerned for her wound. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice only barely above a whisper. It seemed fitting that the moment should be preserved in silence for as long as possible to escape the cold chaos of noise and rationality.

Hermione smiled up at him, happiness radiating out of her face. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah. I am. Severus, I-"

He placed a finger over her lips. "Don't say anything," he said, then cupped her face in his hands. "Please don't." He sat down, pulling her gently to him so that she was seated in his lap. The book that he had been reading was set aside; she was his focus now.

Hermione was sitting across him; she turned and straddled him so that she could see his face. Severus swallowed roughly, clenching his hands to control himself. She had no idea how she looked like this, her face backlit by the fire behind her, the light making her outline hazy, especially around her hair when it changed from dark to brilliant gold at the edges like a halo.

"I already know it all and you already know how I feel," he murmured, running his hands up her arms. "You saw it in my mind."

There was no other way to describe her smile than to call it a beam; she beamed at him and he was absolved. Her hand came to his cheek and caressed it gently. The rasp of his stubble on her hand was loud in the quiet room, the silence otherwise broken only by the crackling and hissing of the fireplace and the sound of her breathing. She leaned in, eyes wide open, and kissed him.

Her mouth was warm and wet and far too teasing with hertongue to be the kiss of a simple schoolgirl. Apparently she was having the same thoughts that he had, evident when she ground against him in a most provocative way. The heaviness between his thighs ached for her.

He groaned into her mouth, cupping the back of her head and a handful of curls to press her closer to him. Her eyes slipped shut, and she made a quiet noise in in the back of her own throat as she responded in kind. Severus' other hand was on her waist, holding her to him. As she moved closer her shirt slid up and his hand was suddenly in contact with warm skin, skin that was far too hot and far too smooth.

Lost in the feeling of her lips and tongue and her smooth skin under his hand he stroked her back under her shirt and let his hand run the length of her back, across the nudges of her spine. A needy moan was her response, a breathless sound that made him harden even more. His fingers reached the fabric of her bra- lace, suggested the roughness under his fingers.

He slid his hand down her back again, this time skimming the line of her waist. It was so tiny- she was so tiny- and his hands were so large that he could feel the scar tissue from her back injury as his hand dipped into the curve of her waist. If he had merely looked he would have seen nothing, but Glamours didn't hide texture.

She tensed when he stroked the scar, worrying him instantly. Had he caused her pain? He lessened their kiss, pulling back and taking his hands from her bare skin with a hot sliver of guilt and shame, as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

And yet, his hands still craved the softness, the warmth, the smoothness that was female and Hermione. His hand went to her cheek, cupping it and savoring the warmth as he satisfied his need to look into her eyes, to read her emotions on her face.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked seriously.

Hermione shook her head, the lovely color that was in her face deepening by a shade. "No, not really. It wasn't that." Her hand by his neck stroked the juncture of neck and shoulder.

His other hand reached up to take hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "Then...?"

"It's a scar," she mumbled. "Not very sexy, I suppose." Hermione was refusing to look at him, even as she took comfort in the hand cradling her face.

"Then I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Severus murmured in her ear, leaning close to her so that his breath would brush the shell of her ear. "Because my back is a mess of scars."

Hermione's eyes were sad. "I know why you have your scars and it makes me want to cry," she told him a low, serious voice. "But they don't make me desire you any less."

He stroked her cheek. "Then what makes you think I feel any different, you silly girl?"

She was kissing him hard, her arms flung around his neck. When they parted again, she was breathing heavily. There were a million words in her eyes, all ways to say thank you you understand me I understand you I love you you get me you would never mock me I love you you understand thank you so much for understanding I love you

"We might want to do something other than kiss," Severus said quietly after a moment. "We need to discuss what all of- what all of what happened means. And we are going to be answering to Dumbledore tomorrow afternoon, and to the Order tomorrow evening."

She sighed and turned herself so that she was sitting with her legs draped across him and the arm of the chair. With Hermione no longer facing him, instead tucked securely into his chest, Severus was able to let a small smile brush his face. He adored her warmth; he loved that she was so close to him and warm and just glorious in his arms.

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said, sighing again. "I'm assuming the Dark Lord was furious."

Severus tensed unconsciously. "You killed his most dedicated follower, Hermione," he said, his voice strained. "You took Bellatrix Lestrange away from him and now the price on your head is nearly as high as the one on Potter's- and they aren't allowed to kill Potter but they've been heavily encouraged to kill you."

He could feel her draw in a shuddering breath against him. "She's dead?" It was a whisper, not deliberately deadened, but rather just too terrible to say aloud.

"Of course she's dead," Severus snapped. "You made half her chest land three meters away." He regretted his sharp words when she shivered again.

"Bollocks," swore Hermione. "So. She died. Who else?"

"Black," Severus answered after a moment to consider. "Another Death Eater- Thomas from a slit throat. Two more found mysteriously dead from scorpion stings. And one more found with his brain boiled in his skull. That was it. Nymphadora Tonks came close, but she's in St. Mungo's now."

They were quiet for a long time, each with their own thoughts. Severus, unknowingly, wound a strand of Hermione's hair around his finger, fiddling with it and rubbing it between his fingers. She hardly noticed, more focused on what she had done.

"We screwed up, Severus," she said finally. It was easier to stare into the fire than it was to look up at his face. The glowing red of the embers and the sharp cackle as the one remaining log of wood split made her think of church as a child, of sitting on a hard wooden pew and listening to the old man at the front describe fire and damnation. "We sent children into danger without a solid back up plan. We were overconfident and not careful enough."

There were a thousand things that had gone wrong. First her own dithering reluctance to raise her wand to her friends- she had been able to do it to Krum, but not to Harry. She should have Stunned Ginny and Luna and not taken the rest of them. She should have left them to guard the upper levels of the Ministry and wait for the Aurors, she should have been more aggressive when fighting the Death Eaters, she shouldn't have gotten cursed- let alone cursed twice. Severus should have gotten the Aurors there as promised, the Order should have listened to him, they should have all been more prepared. Hermione shouldn't have even entered the Ministry without confirmation from Severus that the Aurors were already there.

With anyone else he would have snapped, asked if her if she thought he didn't already know that. With Hermione, he sighed and bent his head into her hair. "I know," he said quietly. "Believe me, I know. But some good came out of it." He didn't wait for her to ask. "Potter got a badly needed reality check. The Order had its first real fight in almost fifteen years. And Bellatrix Lestrange, perhaps the most dangerous Death Eater who was freed from Azkaban, is dead. That's one person we no longer need to worry about. And Potter now has an Inner Circle of sorts, a battle tested group of reliable allies."

"And apparently you've gotten over at least a small part of your 'we need distance' hang up," Hermione said, in a voice that was significantly happier than the one she had spoken in earlier. "Don't tell me it's only temporary."

In his mind he froze, but his corporeal body kept breathing and holding Hermione. "You almost died," he said carefully. "You have no idea how close I was to losing you, Hermione."

How could he put it into words, this feeling that if he ever let her go she would fall from his arms and shatter into a million pieces? That he would lose her if she wasn't in his sight—she would disappear, as if sitting here with her was only a dream that would fade away, half remembered, before he opened his eyes? Something as wonderful as Hermione could not be a dream, someone as real as Hermione could not be a dream, but if she had died he would have been left with dreams, only dreams, of Hermione.

She shifted in his arms, gloriously real. "I was wondering- I remembered... something. Singing. Did you use the singing spell?"

She doesn't know. "Fawkes," Severus said after a moment. "You needed the tears of a phoenix, Hermione. You were going to die. The only reason you are alive today is because Dumbledore's phoenix has a goddamn soft spot for Potter."

He could see that she was trying to process it, running through her memories and her knowledge of phoenix tears in her head. "Oh," she said after a moment. "That bad?"

Severus tightened his arms around her. "Yes," he said immediately. "That bad." Worse. Enough to make me realize that I didn't want our last kiss to be our last kiss. That I couldn't lose you. That you are everything, Hermione.

"I'm suppose I must apologize for giving you a fright, then," said Hermione, voice lilting. She turned and wiggled in his lap so that she was face to face with him, nose to nose.

He had never seen this look in her eyes before, this mix of amusement and arousal and maybe a touch of worry. Severus was deciding he liked it plenty when she kissed him carefully, open eyes meeting his as she pressed a closemouthed kiss to his lips softly. Her lips were soft, her breath light on his face.

When she tilted her head, opening her mouth just the tiniest bit to caress his lower lip, he couldn't stand it anymore. He took her head in his hands- quickly, but gently, he didn't want to hurt her- and kissed her ruthlessly, sucking her tongue into his mouth and accidentally bumping teeth.

She pulled away first, one hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "A big fright, then?"

Severus nodded silently. She understood. "Yes. Please endeavor not to do so in the future."

"I'll do my best," she promised. "But I might get hurt again, Severus."

"I know," he said, staring into the remains of a fire in the fireplace. "I know. "

He was relaxed, not thinking of much other than the woman in his arms when he noticed that she had stiffened. "What is it?" he asked, rubbing her arms slowly. "What's bothering you?"

Hermione turned again to face him. "I don't know where I'm going to go when I get off the train tomorrow," she admitted quietly. "I just realized that Headquarters- Number 12 Grimmauld Place – is no longer safe now that Sirius is dead."

"We'll see what Dumbledore says," Severus said. "But I will be seeing you this summer. You will need to take my reports." He was quiet for a moment longer, debating his next words. "And I'm not sure I'd stay sane without seeing you at least once a fortnight."

The little happy sigh was worth the admission of feelings. "Nor would I. Are we going to try to make this work, then?"

He smiled, hiding it in her hair. "I suppose so, my dear Gryffindor."

The train hurtled along the English countryside at a supernaturally fast pace. Hermione supposed that the Hogwarts Express, like so many other objects in the magical world, was somewhat sentient. Hogwarts seemed dark now; the entire Wizarding World felt dark.

For the first time in months, Hermione missed her mother. If not warm and maternal, she had at least patted Hermione's cheek and given her a tissue. She had been comfortingly normal. She was gone, now. Somewhere in Australia.

And Hermione was here, on a train that was carrying her away from what was quite probably the safest place in England right now to a station where Severus had already warned her there might be an attack. She swallowed hard and smoothed her skirt.

The compartment was quiet. Hermione had a book open on her lap, although she wasn't reading. Luna was looking at The Quibbler, Ginny was flipping through a Witch Weekly quietly, and Neville was snoring with his head against the window. Harry was opposite him, staring out the glass. Hermione was the farthest away from him, purposefully it seemed. He hadn't talked to her since the fight at the Ministry. She had been in the Hospital Wing, and he hadn't come to visit, or he had only come while she was sleeping. As soon as she had been released, she had sought out Severus. She had needed comfort- explaining herself to Harry would have been draining. But being held in Severus' arms... she had left his rooms colder, but with a quiet happiness in her heart that quenched some of the fear that came with knowing the Dark Lord was no longer in hiding.

They had forced his hand, before the time he had planned. That was good for them- he hadn't had enough time to build up his army, enough time to infiltrate the Ministry. If things had gone according to plan, the Ministry and Gringotts would have quietly slipped under his control as the top human and goblin officials were either replaced with those loyal to the Dark Lord or Imperioused.

Before the Wizarding World would have even known he was back, Lord Voldemort would have had their government filled with his own people, their money controlled by his own people. No one would have been able to come in or out of the country. Muggleborns would have been rounded up, brought to the Ministry with never the suspicion that something might have been wrong. "Routine procedure" would have led to Azakban being filled with those who had only the misfortune of being born to the wrong parents.

Ron reentering the carriage startled Hermione out of her thoughts. The redhead was large and awkward, his limbs sticking out at angles necessitated by quick and unexpected growth. There was no sense of the quiet calm Harry carried to his movements, or the grace of his sister. Ron was a boy that was poised to become a man; Hermione had thought that a battle would have pushed him over the ledge but it seemed not. Ron returned to his seat by Harry, uncomfortable with everyone looking at him.

Hermione sighed, and returned to her Transfiguration book. It was one borrowed from Severus' library, and the worn cover had been gilded with gold once upon a time. Someone had valued it- an inscription at the front had told her it had been a gift from James McGonagall to Minerva McGonagall and she didn't know if James had been a husband or father or brother or uncle- and she didn't want to know.

McGonagall had given Severus this book, probably after the death of the one who had given it to her had become too much, still too sharply painful to bear seeing a gift sitting on the shelf every day. So she had given it to a man she respected, for Christmas perhaps. The Dark Lord had wrought all sorts of pain on McGonagall, on Severus, on Hermione herself. On Harry. On all of them.

She waited a bit longer before clearing her throat. "When we get to the station, don't leave the train. Dumbledore told me to make sure us six stayed up. Order members are going to come and escort us off, just in case some Death Eaters try something."

A look of fear passed over Ginny's face- the younger girl looked at the sleeping Neville briefly before glancing back at Hermione. "Who's coming?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking over the Order schedules she had drawn up before her exams. "Um... I think it might be Remus and Moody." They were the best fighters. It made the most sense to send them- she hoped that Dumbledore would want the best to protect his boy savior.

Harry turned away, looking out the window again. "Fine," he muttered.

It was an hour more when the train finally slowed and came to a stop, the rattling of the machinery popping Hermione's nerves into high alert.

She stood, leaning casually against the window. Hermione muttered an excuse about stretching her legs, rolling her neck to pop it loudly. Luna looked vaguely disturbed by the noise it produced.

The typical sounds of schoolchildren dragging trunks and animals off a train and reuniting with family were quick to reach their ears. Shouts of joy, the sounds of weeping parents- out of a crack in the curtains, Hermione could see that children were being embraced harder and longer by worried parents. The ones who were obviously Muggle were standing apart, some looking confused and others looking horrified. Those were the ones who had been talking to the Wizarding parents standing around.

She scanned the crowd, trying to find the known sons and daughters of Death Eaters. There- Malfoy. She could see two pale heads of hair pushing their way through the crowd, trying to leave as quickly as possible. A slim dark-haired boy with a sharp nose was being pulled along by his mother as well. Crabbe and Goyle were leaving already too.

It could be a sign that the homes of Death Eaters are unhappy or that purebloods don't like having family reunions in public. Or... it could mean that something is happening.

Hermione wrenched the curtain fully shut. Harry looked like he was about to protest, but she quieted him with a look.

"We need to get you inside the bounds of your uncle's house before the Death Eaters come," she said in a low voice. "I know you don't want to go back, Harry, but you need to. It's the best protection you have at the moment."

Two sharp raps at the door alerted Hermione. With a complicated turn of her wand she turned the door transparent, showing the two men outside the door. She had been right- both Remus and Moody were waiting, and by their side was another, younger man whom she recognized.

Another motion canceled the transparency spell, and a second unlocked the door, letting it slide open. Hermione kept her wand pointed at the three.

"Where were we when we first met?" she demanded of Remus. The loss of his friend had visibly affected him- there were bags under his eyes and the lines on his face were deeper, as if they had been traced again with a pencil.

Nevertheless, he smiled at her wearily. "Safe House Three," he answered, sparing a quick glance at the other children. "I was sleeping. What did Severus call me?"

"A dog," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "He followed it up with an order for me to wipe the look from my face. Moody, where were you?"

"The illusion, lass, " he said gruffly. "If Lupin thinks it's you, then let's go. Diggory, get the Portkey. We've checked him multiple times, girly. Don't fret- it's him."

Looking at him made the image of a maze of twilight and sinister green hedges briefly obstruct her vision before she could see what was truly in front of her. Cedric Diggory, hale and healthy. He was tall with dark blond hair and strong features. Handsome. Although he was barely three inches taller than Remus, he seemed much, much bigger. He was bulky, like Charlie Weasley.

With a grin, Cedric Diggory reached through the doorway and handed Hermione an old newspaper. "Pleasure to see you again, Granger."

Hermione just nodded, now more focused on the Portkey. "And the password?" she asked.

"Headline on the front page," Moody growled. "Give it to Potter before it goes off."

Hermione obeyed, handing the newspaper to Harry. "It should take you to your living room at Number Four," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go ahead."

"But what about Ron and Ginny?" Harry asked angrily. "Or Luna, or Neville? How are they going to get home safely?"

Hermione glared at him, but Moody beat her to it. "We're just here for show, Potter. Never done a day's work in our lives."

"We're getting them home safely, silly," Hermione hissed. "Use the goddamn Portkey."

While there was anger in the green eyes staring up at her, there was also fear. Fear that spoke to her of Death Eaters and loamy ground and graveyards and cauldrons. "It should be fine," she murmured. "Do you want me to go with you?" Her voice was so quiet only he could hear her.

With obvious reluctance, he nodded. There- it was settled.

"I'm going to go with Harry, then Apparate back here," she said to Remus. "I'll meet you all outside of King's Cross." She reached up, pulling down her luggage and shrinking it neatly, tucking the small trunk into her pocket. "Ginny, take Crooks with you, please?"

Ginny nodded, reaching to take the cat's basket from Hermione. "Of course."

Hermione waited as Harry slowly unfolded the newspaper, and touched the page as he read out the headline. "Death Eaters Found In Ministry Sentenced Today."

The familiar and sickening slide of a hook in her navel made Hermione nauseous, even as it jerked up and she and Harry were pulled away from the train. They were spinning dizzily for a few moments before the landed on thankfully solid ground.

With more than a little curiosity, Hermione looked around the living room of Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley. It was decorated in a heavy handed fashion, with lots of lace dollies and little figurines. There were several pictures of an enormously fat boy with blond hair doing a variety of interesting activities; there were no images at all of the boy standing next to her.

"They aren't home?" he asked, surprised.

Hermione gave him a wane smile. "I thought it was best to give you some time alone here to get settled. They're currently waiting at King's Cross. Moody and Lupin will explain."

Harry didn't say anything, but instead stalked into the depths of the house trailing his luggage behind him. Hermione heard it thump up the stairs and winced.

She followed, noticing that once again the walls bore no evidence that anyone but the Dursleys lived in the house. Her anger, already brewing, boiled over when when saw first the cat flap on Harry's door, and then place where bars had been on his windows.

Harry had already flopped on his bed, with one arm over his eyes. "You can leave now, Hermione," he said crossly. "I'm here, I'm safe. Your job is done now, right?"

Her heart clenched. Carefully, Hermione sat at the foot of Harry's bed, smoothing the covers automatically. "Not my job as a friend," she said quietly. "How are you doing? Don't lie to me, Harry James Potter."

The words worked- Harry sat up and glared at her. "Bloody well, don't you think? First it turns out one of my best friends isn't really my friend after all, then the Dark Lord that killed my parents managed to kill my godfather too! I led a bunch of people into a really stupid trap and they got hurt and almost died and it was all my fault!"

Hermione waited patiently, then patted his leg. "First, I'm still your friend. I care about you as more than a task, Harry, and the only reason I agreed to what Dumbledore suggested in the first place was because you were and are still one of my best friends. And yes, the Dark Lord murdered Sirius, but that is anything but your fault. Sirius knew what he was getting into when he went to fight. And you did lead us into a trap, but more importantly, Harry, you also led us out of it. And the only one who almost died was me, and I can say that I would not have changed my place at your side if we were to do it again." She watched him earnestly as she spoke, and the tears welling in his green eyes made her own eyes damp.

"I was so stupid," Harry whispered. "I should I have listened to you, Hermione."

Hermione leaned over and gave him a tight hug. "Maybe you should have," she said stroking his thick dark hair. "Maybe next time you will."

He's just a boy, she thought again, not for the first time. He's too young to have this burden upon him.

"I have something to tell you," Harry said gravely. "But first, I need you to tell me the truth. About- all of this. Of you. Dumbledore explained some of it, but not all of it."

So this was it. He would tell her of the prophecy and she would tell him of her role in guarding him. The truth would emerge. A version of the truth, anyway.

"Very well," Hermione said, facing their boy savior. It was surreal that it would happen here, as she was sitting cross legged on his bed in a dingy room in a Muggle house. But it was also fitting in a way, that it was this simple. Nothing for the history books. Just a conversation between friends, friends from the same roots, raised in this world that they were protecting. "It started with the memory I showed you..."

And there, in the silence of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, the words on which a war hung fell from the lips of those who were no longer children.

And so ends Chapter 32, and Part Two.

This is exciting! Part Two is done!

But this means something IMPORTANT: The rating will change to M. When the first chapter of Part Three is posted, the rating will change. Things are going to be getting... steamy. ;) But with frank and serious discussions about experience and comfort level and general sensitivity and moving very very slowly. I'm on chapter 37 and there is no serious hanky panky in at least the next three or four chapters after that.

Also somewhat important: I'm going to FRANCE FOR THREE WEEKS! YAY! But this means I'll be a bit busy and might not write as much as I should. I'll be spending time with the lovely (whose works in French you should totally check out if you're a speaker).

The next chapter will be going up on the fourth of July ('Murica!) which is also the same day I leave for France and the day before I find out if I got my IB diploma. Gulp. So I'll need plenty of reviews that day to keep me going. ;) Something also important: I slept in today (on my summer break) so the chapter didn't go up at six AM my time like it normally does. If the chapter doesn't appear at it's normal time, don't freak, ok? It's coming!

So. Reviews. Let me know what you think, please! What was your opinion of Part Two? What do you want to see in Part Three? What are tropes or moments you love seeing in fic? Do you like chapter length? I want to know what y'all are thinking!

CHECK OUT MY NEW SSHG STORY! hopeforhealing won an SSHG oneshot. Twoshot... it got long. The first chapter is up, and the next will be put up tomorrow. I have several SSHG short stories now! Let me know which is your favorite. :)

Your excerpt:

Severus frowned. "Glad to know you like him so much," he snarked. "Doesn't hurt that he's the definition of a pretty boy." He was rigid, leaning against the wall with far too much tension in his body.

Until the fourth!