** To my loyal readers: Here's the last chapter, and the bonus epilogue! I hope you enjoy them all.

A very special thanks to all those who have reviewed. You make me want to keep writing.

Chapter 22

Sonora sat and stared at Severus, lying still against the crisp sheets of the hospital bed in the dim room. He hadn't moved since they'd appeared in Dumbledore's office. He'd been in such pain, she thought miserably, so much pain, and all on her behalf. If she hadn't been so stupid as to get herself kidnapped, he'd be awake and snarling at her like he should.

She dropped her head to rub a hand over her face. She hadn't paused to think about the whole mess quite yet. There had been the hasty re-telling for Dumbledore after the mad dash to the hospital wing, and then the Headmaster had disappeared to do something or another. Sonora had taken up her position next to Severus' bed and hadn't moved for the last six hours.

A noise at the door had her glancing up and looking over. She gave a tired smile at the sight of the boy standing there, not really surprised to see him out of bed. "Harry," she said. "I understand I have you to thank as well."

Harry came into the room, steps quiet, eyes shadowed. "I should have told you first thing in the morning," he said quietly. "At least you would have known to…"

Sonora groaned, interrupting him. "Mr. Potter, is this the stubbornly noble streak I've heard people complain about? Great Merlin's beard, there is no way you could have stopped Lucius Malfoy and if you say another word about it, I swear, I'll give you detention for the rest of the year."

Harry blinked. And then blinked again. A small smile curved one corner of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."

"Furthermore, Harry," Sonora said, figuring while she was at it… "I wanted to tell you I was proud of you."

"Why?" he asked. Rather bluntly, but that was most likely due to the surprise on his face.

"You set aside your differences and worked with people you were not fond of to achieve a goal," she said simply. "You treated everyone with respect, and I am enormously grateful for the results."

This time he smiled, a true smile. "I'm just glad you're back, Professor." The laughter of a boy lit those green eyes that all too often belonged to a man. "I was afraid we'd have to have Professor Snape for Potions again."

Sonora rolled her eyes. "Go away," she said, unable to keep the humor out of her voice. "Go celebrate Christmas with your friends, and I'll pretend I didn't see you out of bed."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, grinning and turning for the door. He paused before he went out. "Merry Christmas, Professor Stone."

Sonora watched him leave before looking back at Severus. Christmas. It was Christmas today. She glanced out the window. It was snowing, just as it should at a magic castle on Christmas Day. The moon was out, and the falling snow gleamed, pure and white in the early morning hours.

Her eyes fell on Severus again, and her heart ached.. "Wake up, you idiot," she said softly. "Please, just wake up."

Sonora was weary, and her eyelids getting heavy when she heard another noise at the door. This time, she looked up to see Draco standing, still and silent in the shadows.

"Draco," she said quietly.

He didn't move, but his eyes slid over to hers from where they'd been staring at Severus. He stood as if poised for flight and ready for the axe at the same time. Sonora gave him a weary smile.

"Come in," she said. She stretched a hand toward a nearby chair. "Sit with me."

Draco finally moved when Sonora made to get up. "I've got it," he said in a stilted voice, not letting her fetch the chair.

She smiled a little. He was becoming so like Severus, in some ways. "Sit down, Draco," she said gently. He sat, and then they were silent. Sonora watched Draco. Draco watched Severus.

Finally, the silence was broken. "He's dead."

Sonora blinked. "Who?" she asked, immediately glancing at Severus. She was reassured by the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.

Draco stared at his former Potions Master, lying there in the bed. "My father," he said. His voice was almost casual. "Dumbledore just told me. He's dead."

"Oh, Draco," Sonora said, her heart sinking. She didn't know what to say, what to do. She sat helplessly and looked at the young man, the pale moonlight shining on his hair.

Draco shrugged, although the motion was a bit tense. "He tried to kill you. He tried to kill Professor Snape," he said, and now his voice was tight. "He used me to get into the school." He paused. "He didn't give a shit about me, and I'm glad he's dead."

Sonora hurt as the flatness of his voice made her heart ache. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. How did a person respond to that? How did you comfort when it wasn't wanted and a child believed it wasn't deserved?

She sighed. "Draco," she said, trying to find the words and wishing she were someone else, someone wiser. "It's ok to mourn, Draco," she finally said.

His face remained stony. "He was a bastard," he said.

"Yes," Sonora agreed. "He was. He was cruel, and he hurt me. He wanted to kill Severus and I. He used you." She paused again. "He may not have loved you," she said softly, guessing and knowing when the boy twitched that she was right.

"But he was your father," she said. "And you loved him."

"He doesn't…" Draco started before he stopped, clenching his fists.

Sonora shifted in her chair and leaned close. "Draco. It's all right to mourn him," she said quietly. She reached out and took the boy's chin in her hand, gently pulling his face to meet her eyes. They'd come so far since that day when a spoilt child had lamed her for life. Now a young man stared back at her with haunted, anguished silver eyes.

"YOU loved him," she said again. "And love is never a bad thing." She couldn't resist glancing at the bed again, before focusing on Draco once more. "And it's never, ever wrong to grieve, even when love goes wrong."

Those gray eyes were struggling to leave hers now, even as his chin lay docile in her hand, but her own were steady and firm. "It's ok to mourn," she repeated, watching him.

It was a struggle the whole way, but finally Sonora saw the crack in Draco's face, the slow dissolve into pain and grief and misery. "My… father…" he choked out, even as he tried desperately to blink back tears. Sonora reached out and pulled, hard, so that the boy stumbled out of his chair to land on his knees on the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly about him, hugging him close.

And Draco wept. His tears were stilted and hot, as if he wasn't used to crying, but still he did. His arms hung limply at his sides, even as he leaned into Sonora's embrace. She stroked his hair, murmuring meaningless sounds and just held him. She'd wanted this when her own parents had died, and there'd been no one. Now she could at least do it for Draco.

Finally the tears seemed to stop and Sonora held the boy in the quiet dark of the hospital room. He seemed content to lean against her for a while, before slowly drawing away and back to his chair. Sonora let him go, watching as he sat down again, eyes averted. Teenaged boys and emotion, she couldn't help thinking with ironic amusement.

Together they sat and stared at Severus, still silent on the bed. This time, the silence was longer as the snow continued to fall in the moonlight. Magic castles, Sonora thought once more.

She had been staring at Severus a while when the thought occurred to her. "The three of you are just amazingly alike, aren't you?" she said.

"Three?" Draco said from her side. He didn't look at her, and she didn't look at him. They just watched the still man.

"You, Harry and Severus." Sonora couldn't keep the small smile off when Draco scowled.

"I don't have anything in common with Potter," he growled.

"You all have the same eyes," she said, seeing them in her mind. "You've all seen too much." Draco mumbled something under his breath that she chose not to hear. "You all are trapped by what people think of you."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, poor Saint Potter," he growled again.

Sonora shook her head. "Use your mind, Draco," she said quietly. "People look at Severus and see what? A Death Eater, the evil and cruel Potion Master who lurks in the dungeon, just waiting to make someone's life a misery." She gave the boy a glance. "How do they see you?"

"Son of a Death Eater. A slimy Slitheryn." Draco's voice was odd, perhaps resigned? she wondered. Or maybe more sad.

"And they see Harry as Saint Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. The-Boy-Who-Has-To-Save-Us-All-Again," she said quietly. "And none of you are merely those things."

There was no sound from the young man at her side, and Sonora left it that way. Perhaps he'd think about it, and see what she meant. Plant a seed, Sonora thought. Plant a seed and see what grows.

And then she restrained her sigh. If only Severus would wake up, so she could tell him.

Severus came slowly into the waking world. Slowly and rather painfully. Blast Malfoy, he thought irritably. The idiot just HAD to do everything as painfully as possible.

The thought had his eyes snapping open as he remembered why Malfoy had been cursing him. Sonora…

She was sitting, sound asleep in a rather uncomfortable looking chair by his bed. An empty chair stood next to her. Severus held perfectly still and stared at her, just taking in that she was alive and truly sitting there.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and whipped his head around to see Draco leaning against the window frame a few feet away. He studied the boy, who studied him in turn. Then Draco gave him a nod, a faint smile, and turned and quietly walked out of the room. He paused at the door and glanced back. "Happy Christmas," the boy said, whisper soft. And then was gone.

Severus let his eyes slide back to Sonora, and soaked her in. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, the delicate skin looking bruised and weary. Her lashes lay like fans against her cheeks. He didn't see the disarranged hair, the dirty and torn clothes, the pallor of her complexion after the pain and trauma of the previous day. All he saw was the steady rise and fall of her chest and the breath that slipped through her lips. He shuddered with the relief of it all. She was alive.

Ignoring his aches and the screaming of his abused body, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed. Carefully, as if she were fine porcelain that might break, he slipped his arms around the sleeping woman and lifted her from her chair, wincing as some muscle in his stomach screamed in protest.

He eased back until he was lying against the pillows once more. This time, Sonora was cradled against him, her head settling naturally into the hollow of his shoulder. She sighed and cuddled closer, not waking. He smiled and closed his own eyes. There would be time enough in the morning to talk, to apologize for their argument before. There would be explanations, plans for the future, plots against Voldemort. He wouldn't have to worry about keeping their relationship secret, he realized. He was no longer a spy.

His arm tightened a bit. He'd have to think about that a bit. It had been a part of him for so long, Severus wasn't sure he could ever loose those characteristics that had become part of his persona.

But in the meantime, his woman was safe, in his arms, and the moon was shining on Chirstmas snow. He pressed his lips against her forehead, and let himself slide into sleep.