Hey! Well… I am afraid I have something to say regarding the reviews I have received. First of all, I love this story. I've invested a lot of time on the grammar, on the metaphors, on the word order and above all, the plot. My other stories are not good regarding many things (I've learned a lot through writing them though and that makes me very proud) but my plots have always been good. 

I think that the thoughts I add to the story are of vital importance and here is why: they help the reader understand and feel the same emotions that the characters. They help the reader understand in a very graphical way the pain, the pleasure, the sorrow, the happiness.

Foreshadowing their actions is something I like very much. The phrase: "Little did they know…" is one of my favourites because it leaves the reader with a bittersweet taste on their mouths; they want to know more. Perhaps this does not apply to all readers, but it certainly applies to me. And, after all, I am the author.

I appreciate the fact that you have invested time in my story. Not everyone has to like it, even if it pains me to acknowledge that.  

Thanks for reviewing and please, keep it coming. I enjoy your feedback a lot.

FWS.

Chapter 31: The plan is hatched.

We are speaking of one of the coldest winters in the history of England and believe me when I say that this tiny island where tea is of extreme importance can really be annoying when coldness arises in the middle of December, frosting people's noses and threatening to swell their throats with its chilling air.

After breakfast, however, things were starting to heat up gradually at Malfoy Manor though permanently. True emotions were about to be revealed because, after all, these characters of mine knew of no limitations. You of all the people in the world should understand for their hearts have no secrets to yours.

"Let's see," Severus said while pressing his back against the black leather couch that Lucius had on his private chambers, "You, for some reason, believe that my wife can become of your possession, or do you not, my dear friend?," he enquired knowing the answer by heart.

Lucius answer, on the other hand, was not quite what Severus Snape was expecting for from his thin lips escaped a loud laugh though not necessarily a very diplomatic one. Severus smiled slightly partially because he had to but also because he felt that it was his place to behave in a more appropriate way. He was, indeed, the better person as some people choose to describe a man whose attitudes match Severus's characteristics.

"You will find in your heart, my dear Severus, the strength to forgive me for I find your question ridiculous. Unlike you, I do not share my soul with a disgusting example of a witch. I am afraid that a person of my palate cannot find your wife in the least interesting or tasteful at all, for that matter," he concluded while nervously playing with his hands from behind his table.

Severus would have been no spy if he had failed to notice the shiver of his friend's fingers. His shallow nature revolted him to the core of his being and he could not understand- or rather chose not to comprehend- why in the name of Merlin he found himself in the terrible situation of being in love with a person as fantastic as his wife.

His love- even if he did not choose to admit so- had made him jealous. And those feelings were agonizingly burning his soul and thus compromising his objectivity towards the plan; towards his mission. He needn't a reminder, though: the image shown weeks ago by the mirror of the dark desire haunted his minutes.

"I see," was all he was able to answer after a long period of reflection.

"Shall we talk business now?," Lucius asked in a more relaxed tone now that Hermione Granger was out of their conversation. The topic seemed to tense him… intimacy seemed to tense him. But now that revenge had taken over their chat, he felt more comfortable; at home.

"The time has finally arrived…," Severus mysteriously whispered but then again, his voice was most of the times barely more than a whisper when he had to face his past which disturbed his present situation and troubled his near future.

"We need to kill him," Draco's father answered, shortly announcing the purpose of their meeting.

"I know," Severus answered, "What do you propose?," he inquired.

"Poison him, Severus," Lucius suggested standing from his chair and slowly walking to where Severus and the fireplace where. He, then, threw some of his brandy on the flames which roared with fury. The fire was just a sample of this person's temperamental behaviour because, make no mistake: Lucius Malfoy has more than a skull tattooed on his forearm as a sign of his devotion to the Dark Side. He has wickedness tattooed all over his skin because he does not represent sinfulness; he is sinfulness in the flesh, "…And bring me his head," he added some time later while turning his head from the fire to where Severus was peacefully sitting.

Just for a moment, Severus thought that he had seen fire in Lucius light blue eyes. But that could not be the case, obviously, because it cancelled any kind of logical explanation. And Severus Snape is a very logical person indeed.

"And I suppose you want his head on a silver plate as well," Severus sarcastically said while shaking his head trying, in vain, to get rid of the image of Lucius evil eyes of fire.

"Don't be foolish," was all Lucius answered, "I just want his head, Severus. You know why," he sentenced staring intently at Severus as if seeking some kind of reaction on his behalf; the kind of reaction he had been waiting to see for a long time now, a response which could depict any type of disloyalty.

"I only know potions," Severus humbly replied.

"And if potions are what you know best then I suggest you to find a proper venom to murder Dumbledore," Lucius said stepping closer to Severus who was now standing still.

"I will," Severus answered, "I will take care of it,"

Those words were just what Lucius Malfoy had been waiting to hear for a long time. His friend was going to take care of the whole business. Yes. He needn't worry anymore. Dumbledore was a dead man. He was utterly overwhelmed by Severus words and so he stepped even closer and hugged his friend tightly while whispering these words into his right ear:

"I knew you would not disappoint me, Severus. I knew you possessed a soul as rotten as mine," he finally said, breaking the hug but shaking hands with his best friend and fellow Death Eater, Severus Snape. The hand's shake meant that Dumbledore's death had been signed by his own hangman; a man he loved as his own son.

"I am glad," he shortly answered while touching a hand he hated more than anyone's in the universe. But then again this was business, as Lucius had well put it. And he was not actually going to poison Dumbledore and cut his head. Or was he? No. That was ridiculous; he had made that clear.

And so with a last glance at Lucius' chambers he waved his hand fondly towards his enemy's direction and headed to the Reception Hall where Hermione was waiting for him along with their belongings.

"Ready to go?," he asked squeezing her hand really hard as if trying to gain some kind of stamina he had lost while chatting with Lucius.

"Ready as I will ever be," she joked, quoting him with a grateful smile on her face. That perfect smile meant that she was indebted with everything he had done for her that weekend. He had protected her from Lucius Malfoy, a man who had the power to kill them both not because he had a vast quantity of knowledge regarding magic but because he had a vast quantity of power. And that is always dangerous.

He had protected her, indeed. And she was never going to forget that even if the time would come when she will no longer be Mrs. Snape. And she had a feeling that after the end- and she knew the end was near, she would smell it in the air like a hungry dog- the Ministry would allow Severus to break their marriage.

But then again, he had just stretched his hand seeking support from his wife. And just there, something in the middle of her heart had melted, releasing terrible sadness but also a determination she never thought she had in her soul. She was not going to let him go. No; over her dead body. And that might just be the case.