The professors advanced slowly on the group of Death-Eaters, knowing full
well that among them stood the bane of the wizarding world. Voldemort
smiled grimly, looking forward to the slaughter. He nodded to his followers
who drew their wands.
A hex caught the man to his right in the chest, throwing him away and cracking his head on the wall beside them. The Death-Eaters retaliated, and Professor Flitwick went down under a flurry of unfriendly curses. Then the magic began to fly.
Curses and hexes flew through the air, the only sound you could hear was a cacophony of incantations being shouted. Despite his greater numbers, Voldemort found himself pushed back. For every one Hogwarts professor that went down, five of his Death-Eaters were stunned or killed. He realised that very soon he would be alone.
He abandoned his followers and fled, searching for Hermione. Without her skills, he was defenceless against Dumbledore. The old wizard knew him too well. He stumbled down corridors, letting the call of his blood guide him. She was near, he could feel it. His daughter would not escape this time.
He turned a corner, and found himself outside a locked door. His blood was baying loudly in his ears; she was in there. He unlocked the door, and silently slipped inside.
*~*~*
Snape only just managed to restrain himself from sweeping her into his arms. She was alive, and here with him, where he could keep her safe.
'Miss Granger, I trust your trip was successful?'
Damn it, he'd done it again. Whenever he felt he could not trust his emotions to keep from betraying him, he retreated behind the mask of the greasy git. Hermione smiled at his tone.
'Yes, Professor, it was extremely successful.'
He noticed her hand was in her pocket, fingering something. His eyes narrowed; what was she up to?
'Perhaps you would like to explain where you've been? You have worried a great many people.'
Her cinnamon eyes locked on his black ones, gazing at him with an unreadable emotion. He felt himself drawn in by her, unable to stop moving a step towards her.
'I did not mean to worry so many people. I apologise,' Hermione murmured, mesmerised by what she found in his eyes. He loved her. A sense of security flowed through her. All she would need to do would be to get him to confess it.
'You are important to us, Miss Granger.' To me, he added in the silence of his mind.
A slow rhythmic clapping suddenly ripped through the still air. With a start, the two turned to see Voldemort applauding them from the doorway, his eyes red with anger. He glared at Snape.
'So this is why you were unable to find her,' he snarled. 'You wished to keep her for yourself? That is dishonesty, Snape, and I will not stand for it!'
Snape was thrown against the wall, the impact stunning him momentarily. He saw, through a haze of concussion, Voldemort advancing on him, his wand outstretched. Hermione quietly dropped a knife onto the floor, un-noticed by either men. It glinted red in the summer sunlight. She stepped forward to prevent Snape's imminent demise.
'Wait!'
Her voice halted her father, who turned to gaze coldly on her. Snape could just see the girl. She was holding a vial of something, something that pulsed bright blue light.
'If you hurt him, or anyone else, I'll drink this. You'll never use my power for evil,' she declared, holding the vial aloft.
Voldemort sneered.
'You wouldn't. I have known women for over fifty years. You don't have the courage to stand up to me.'
'My mother did.'
Pain flashed across the Dark Lord's face, only for a moment, but long enough for Hermione to know she had hit home. For a moment she saw Tom Riddle in his eyes, looking out at her.
'No!' Voldemort snarled, his face contorted into a hideous grimace. 'She was weak! If she had had the power to fight me, I would not have killed her!'
His face changed, the features softening to those of an old man, whose love Hermione knew well.
'Don't fight him, Hermione! He'll kill you!' he pleaded, before retreating back behind Voldemort, who glared at her.
'If I fight him, I die, and if I join him, I die,' Hermione said softly. 'Where's the choice?'
She uncorked the vial, letting the aroma waft about the room. As soon as the perfume reached Snape's nose, his blood ran cold. She was holding the most powerful poison known to exist on this world, the Ad Mortem Dessicare (to dry to death). It effects took hold within minutes, leaving the victim a dry husk. He knew for a fact that Hermione would not have any qualms about what she was about to sacrifice. And he loved her all the more for her ignorance and bravery.
In horror, he watched as she lifted the vial to her lips. Voldemort sprang forward, his arm outstretched to knock it from her hand. Snape struggled to his feet, his aching body determined to save her.
'Hermione, no!'
Voldemort spun, shouting the Cruciatus with such rage that its effects were amplified many times over. Snape crashed against the wall, the sheer intensity of pain knocking him unconscious. Voldemort turned back, to find Hermione wiping her lips. The vial was empty.
'You little fool!' he hissed, catching her as she fell suddenly.
Hermione hoped against hope that she had been right. She was shaking, feeling the poison work its way through her body. She could already feel her skin beginning to dry out, her lips cracking from the lack of moisture.
Voldemort knelt beside her, his face an agony of indecision. She was dying. His daughter, the one pure thing in his evil life was dying, because he had not believed that Aline's bravery could have been passed on to her. He felt his darker side pushed away, becoming, for the first time in years, Tom Riddle, Hermione's father. Tom forced Voldemort's hand to rise, pointing the wand at the dying girl.
'Toxicum tuum ad meum translate (your poison to me transfer),' he forced from between clenched teeth, and watched, exhausted, as a haze of bright blue mist rose from Hermione's body. It hung, suspended, for a few moments, before slowly moving over to the Dark Lord.
For the first time in his life, Voldemort knew fear. The man he had suppressed for all these years had finally defeated him. There was no way to reverse this spell, he knew. He was going to die. His wand clattered, forgotten, onto the floor. As he backed up against the door, he felt terror seep through his hated being. The mist drew closer.
Suddenly, without warning, it flowed into his body, violently taking hold. He screamed a silent scream. Soon the air was once again still. The sunlight shone through the window. The Dark Lord had breathed his last.
*~*~*
Hermione woke to a familiar voice.
'Come on, Herm, wake up!'
Her eyes fluttered open, unable to believe what she had heard. Ron was sat beside her bed, his big honest face creased with worry. She sat up with a cry of joy and threw her arms about him.
'Ron, it's so good to see you!'
Ron hugged her back, laying her back down on the bed when he noticed Madame Pomfrey's stern glance.
'It's good to see you, too, Hermione. Everyone thought you were dead when we found you.'
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly tearful.
'Did . . . did it work?'
Ron frowned, knowing that she deserved to know the truth, but unsure as to whether he could take seeing her cry again.
'Yes, Herm. He's gone.'
Hermione fought to contain the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
'Oh, good! I'm . . .'
She couldn't finish her sentence. Ron wrapped his arms about her as the full horror of what she had done hit the fragile girl. Hermione sobbed like a child, her mind replaying the last few moments before she'd blacked out.
'He saved me, Ron,' she whimpered, pressing her face into his shoulder. 'Tom Riddle saved me.'
The boy tightened his grip, knowing how Hermione felt about Tom Riddle, despite her hatred of Voldemort. She'd even managed to convince him that they were two separate entities, and he could understand her grief.
Slowly Hermione calmed, pushing away to wipe her face. She smiled gratefully up at her friend.
'Thanks, Ron.'
'No problem.'
He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.
'Mum says you can come and stay with us until you get on your feet. And Dumbledore says you can stay here. It's up to you, really.'
He glanced past her, to the bed beyond. He'd been told the other aspects of the battle as well. Hermione turned her head, and felt her heart plummet. In the next bed, looking as pale as death and still as the tomb, lay Professor Snape.
'Will he be all right?' she asked quietly.
Ron sighed.
'They don't know, Herm. He hasn't woken up since . . . you know . . . and that was three days ago.'
Hermione's eyes remained locked on the unconscious man. Her heart, already sore from the hurt she had suffered, was aching for him. She couldn't lose him, not now.
*~*~*
She sat beside the bed, lost in thought. Her hand held his, her eyes fixed on his unmoving face. Hermione had never felt so alone. She had thought her heart would break when Harry had died, but that had been nothing compared the mind-numbing coldness that permeated her being.
Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. After seeing how happy they would be, she couldn't fathom a future without Severus Snape. She loved him with a deep love, one that transcended time and space. She needed him to live; she needed him to love her.
'Please, don't die,' she sobbed quietly. 'I'll do anything, just don't die. You saved us in that room. I wouldn't have drunk the potion if he hadn't hurt you. Oh, god, don't leave me.'
She leant closer.
'You wanted to know where I was. I was in the future, with myself and you. We're going to be married, Severus, and we'll be so happy. I've seen our children. You can't not give us that future. I need you.'
She lowered her head onto his still hand, her tears overwhelming her.
'I love you.'
From the doorway, Dumbledore smiled sadly. For the first time in years, Snape had the chance to bring happiness into his life, and he couldn't do anything. The old wizard sighed softly, and left Hermione to her grief. This was something she would have to do alone.
A hex caught the man to his right in the chest, throwing him away and cracking his head on the wall beside them. The Death-Eaters retaliated, and Professor Flitwick went down under a flurry of unfriendly curses. Then the magic began to fly.
Curses and hexes flew through the air, the only sound you could hear was a cacophony of incantations being shouted. Despite his greater numbers, Voldemort found himself pushed back. For every one Hogwarts professor that went down, five of his Death-Eaters were stunned or killed. He realised that very soon he would be alone.
He abandoned his followers and fled, searching for Hermione. Without her skills, he was defenceless against Dumbledore. The old wizard knew him too well. He stumbled down corridors, letting the call of his blood guide him. She was near, he could feel it. His daughter would not escape this time.
He turned a corner, and found himself outside a locked door. His blood was baying loudly in his ears; she was in there. He unlocked the door, and silently slipped inside.
*~*~*
Snape only just managed to restrain himself from sweeping her into his arms. She was alive, and here with him, where he could keep her safe.
'Miss Granger, I trust your trip was successful?'
Damn it, he'd done it again. Whenever he felt he could not trust his emotions to keep from betraying him, he retreated behind the mask of the greasy git. Hermione smiled at his tone.
'Yes, Professor, it was extremely successful.'
He noticed her hand was in her pocket, fingering something. His eyes narrowed; what was she up to?
'Perhaps you would like to explain where you've been? You have worried a great many people.'
Her cinnamon eyes locked on his black ones, gazing at him with an unreadable emotion. He felt himself drawn in by her, unable to stop moving a step towards her.
'I did not mean to worry so many people. I apologise,' Hermione murmured, mesmerised by what she found in his eyes. He loved her. A sense of security flowed through her. All she would need to do would be to get him to confess it.
'You are important to us, Miss Granger.' To me, he added in the silence of his mind.
A slow rhythmic clapping suddenly ripped through the still air. With a start, the two turned to see Voldemort applauding them from the doorway, his eyes red with anger. He glared at Snape.
'So this is why you were unable to find her,' he snarled. 'You wished to keep her for yourself? That is dishonesty, Snape, and I will not stand for it!'
Snape was thrown against the wall, the impact stunning him momentarily. He saw, through a haze of concussion, Voldemort advancing on him, his wand outstretched. Hermione quietly dropped a knife onto the floor, un-noticed by either men. It glinted red in the summer sunlight. She stepped forward to prevent Snape's imminent demise.
'Wait!'
Her voice halted her father, who turned to gaze coldly on her. Snape could just see the girl. She was holding a vial of something, something that pulsed bright blue light.
'If you hurt him, or anyone else, I'll drink this. You'll never use my power for evil,' she declared, holding the vial aloft.
Voldemort sneered.
'You wouldn't. I have known women for over fifty years. You don't have the courage to stand up to me.'
'My mother did.'
Pain flashed across the Dark Lord's face, only for a moment, but long enough for Hermione to know she had hit home. For a moment she saw Tom Riddle in his eyes, looking out at her.
'No!' Voldemort snarled, his face contorted into a hideous grimace. 'She was weak! If she had had the power to fight me, I would not have killed her!'
His face changed, the features softening to those of an old man, whose love Hermione knew well.
'Don't fight him, Hermione! He'll kill you!' he pleaded, before retreating back behind Voldemort, who glared at her.
'If I fight him, I die, and if I join him, I die,' Hermione said softly. 'Where's the choice?'
She uncorked the vial, letting the aroma waft about the room. As soon as the perfume reached Snape's nose, his blood ran cold. She was holding the most powerful poison known to exist on this world, the Ad Mortem Dessicare (to dry to death). It effects took hold within minutes, leaving the victim a dry husk. He knew for a fact that Hermione would not have any qualms about what she was about to sacrifice. And he loved her all the more for her ignorance and bravery.
In horror, he watched as she lifted the vial to her lips. Voldemort sprang forward, his arm outstretched to knock it from her hand. Snape struggled to his feet, his aching body determined to save her.
'Hermione, no!'
Voldemort spun, shouting the Cruciatus with such rage that its effects were amplified many times over. Snape crashed against the wall, the sheer intensity of pain knocking him unconscious. Voldemort turned back, to find Hermione wiping her lips. The vial was empty.
'You little fool!' he hissed, catching her as she fell suddenly.
Hermione hoped against hope that she had been right. She was shaking, feeling the poison work its way through her body. She could already feel her skin beginning to dry out, her lips cracking from the lack of moisture.
Voldemort knelt beside her, his face an agony of indecision. She was dying. His daughter, the one pure thing in his evil life was dying, because he had not believed that Aline's bravery could have been passed on to her. He felt his darker side pushed away, becoming, for the first time in years, Tom Riddle, Hermione's father. Tom forced Voldemort's hand to rise, pointing the wand at the dying girl.
'Toxicum tuum ad meum translate (your poison to me transfer),' he forced from between clenched teeth, and watched, exhausted, as a haze of bright blue mist rose from Hermione's body. It hung, suspended, for a few moments, before slowly moving over to the Dark Lord.
For the first time in his life, Voldemort knew fear. The man he had suppressed for all these years had finally defeated him. There was no way to reverse this spell, he knew. He was going to die. His wand clattered, forgotten, onto the floor. As he backed up against the door, he felt terror seep through his hated being. The mist drew closer.
Suddenly, without warning, it flowed into his body, violently taking hold. He screamed a silent scream. Soon the air was once again still. The sunlight shone through the window. The Dark Lord had breathed his last.
*~*~*
Hermione woke to a familiar voice.
'Come on, Herm, wake up!'
Her eyes fluttered open, unable to believe what she had heard. Ron was sat beside her bed, his big honest face creased with worry. She sat up with a cry of joy and threw her arms about him.
'Ron, it's so good to see you!'
Ron hugged her back, laying her back down on the bed when he noticed Madame Pomfrey's stern glance.
'It's good to see you, too, Hermione. Everyone thought you were dead when we found you.'
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly tearful.
'Did . . . did it work?'
Ron frowned, knowing that she deserved to know the truth, but unsure as to whether he could take seeing her cry again.
'Yes, Herm. He's gone.'
Hermione fought to contain the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
'Oh, good! I'm . . .'
She couldn't finish her sentence. Ron wrapped his arms about her as the full horror of what she had done hit the fragile girl. Hermione sobbed like a child, her mind replaying the last few moments before she'd blacked out.
'He saved me, Ron,' she whimpered, pressing her face into his shoulder. 'Tom Riddle saved me.'
The boy tightened his grip, knowing how Hermione felt about Tom Riddle, despite her hatred of Voldemort. She'd even managed to convince him that they were two separate entities, and he could understand her grief.
Slowly Hermione calmed, pushing away to wipe her face. She smiled gratefully up at her friend.
'Thanks, Ron.'
'No problem.'
He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes.
'Mum says you can come and stay with us until you get on your feet. And Dumbledore says you can stay here. It's up to you, really.'
He glanced past her, to the bed beyond. He'd been told the other aspects of the battle as well. Hermione turned her head, and felt her heart plummet. In the next bed, looking as pale as death and still as the tomb, lay Professor Snape.
'Will he be all right?' she asked quietly.
Ron sighed.
'They don't know, Herm. He hasn't woken up since . . . you know . . . and that was three days ago.'
Hermione's eyes remained locked on the unconscious man. Her heart, already sore from the hurt she had suffered, was aching for him. She couldn't lose him, not now.
*~*~*
She sat beside the bed, lost in thought. Her hand held his, her eyes fixed on his unmoving face. Hermione had never felt so alone. She had thought her heart would break when Harry had died, but that had been nothing compared the mind-numbing coldness that permeated her being.
Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. After seeing how happy they would be, she couldn't fathom a future without Severus Snape. She loved him with a deep love, one that transcended time and space. She needed him to live; she needed him to love her.
'Please, don't die,' she sobbed quietly. 'I'll do anything, just don't die. You saved us in that room. I wouldn't have drunk the potion if he hadn't hurt you. Oh, god, don't leave me.'
She leant closer.
'You wanted to know where I was. I was in the future, with myself and you. We're going to be married, Severus, and we'll be so happy. I've seen our children. You can't not give us that future. I need you.'
She lowered her head onto his still hand, her tears overwhelming her.
'I love you.'
From the doorway, Dumbledore smiled sadly. For the first time in years, Snape had the chance to bring happiness into his life, and he couldn't do anything. The old wizard sighed softly, and left Hermione to her grief. This was something she would have to do alone.