Hermione had given me the portkey, his spectacles, and she whispered into my ear that I would know when to use it. And I did know. How? I cannot explain it. I knew. It was as though he were ripped from me, from inside of me, he was torn out of my life. The love that was a pupa in my heart, the secret love we shared, burst open and I felt him leave. The pain of it brought me to my knees and I literally left my body, my heart flew out of my mouth in search of its mate. I wailed and ripped at my robes, I tore at my hair. I beat the floor upon which I lay. Oh, gods, Albus! Albus! Albus! I do not know if I am strong enough. I do not know!  But of course, I had to be strong enough and I was. Just enough. I stood and brought his spectacles out of my robe pocket where I had felt at them all morning.

I portkeyed to where he lay.

I see him there, his body broken, beaten, pummeled. A fetal comma on the blood-soaked ground. My mentor, my lover, my soul's mate. And I know that in this horror, it is easier this way, I could not have agreed to it, could not have been a part of it before this point. And he knew that.

Severus and Hermione and Harry are the only living human beings in this awful place. Who is left standing in an abattoir?

I bend to him and feel my knees give and I fall upon his body.

Then the aurors appear. Harry and Hermione help me to stand. And I see an auror use his fists to beat Severus down to one knee and he will not give. He has both hands on the ground and will not give. The other auror walks behind him and kicks his leg out and Severus is laying in the bone, blood and bile of others. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, reach for Harry and Hermione's hands, entwine their fingers in my own. We close our eyes and apparate with Albus's body back to his beloved Hogwarts. They can come for us there. We are taking him home.

~***~

The door to the Wizengamot flew open and Hogwarts' Headmistress Minerva McGonangall walked into the courtroom with a slow grace that seemed to mock the very hinges of the door. Her silver grey hair fell in waves down her back. Rimless spectacles sat low upon her nose and over the tops of them she looked from Hermione to Severus, both on the ground. Arthur and Ron were kneeling beside the girl, Harry casting a quiet healing spell beside the man. Minerva cast her narrowed gaze up into the shadowed benches lining the wall to just under the arched ceiling. She looked back down at the Minister and his Undersecretary.

She closed her eyes slowly, as if in great pain.

Severus was climbing to his feet, his hands still bound behind him. Harry had a hand circling his upper arm and was steadying him. The man looked over to where the young woman was being helped back to her feet with Arthur on one side and Ron on the other. They looked upon each other. With deliberate steps they brushed past Harry and Arthur and Ron and came face to face with one another. He leaned his head down and she lifted her face up. He rested his forehead against hers.

The Wizengamot exploded into sound. An atonal collapse. Words and snatches of words, whispers and murmurs, shouts and throat clearings crescendoed off the walls and the ceiling and the floor. Fudge appeared to be shouting into the cacophonic wind, he could not be heard. His words lost.

Minerva walked to where Severus and Hermione stood encircled in silence. She held out a hand to Harry and he took her hand in his and made the step closer to the two lovers. Minerva shook out her wand and released Snape's bound hands. She tucked the wand into a robe pocket and held her hand out to him. He grasped it tightly in his own and reached down to take hold of Hermione's hand. She reached for Harry. They stood together, heads bent.

In a shimmer of black and yellow, the four of them disapparated. Together.