Hey… thanks for your great reviews. I hope you like chapter 32.

Chapter 32: The sadness of the Snake.

Survival is of vital importance, of course. And I do not mean to be redundant here but then again every time I reflect upon certain attitudes of fellow human beings the less reason I find to reflect about in the first place. I always find humans to be redundant and breathing the sweet winter air that covers your lungs with ice every eight months is a privilege that many people will never be able to experiment again. For death was near. Death is always near even if we hopelessly try to focus our minds in other subjects. This tactic, however, may just be the one that enables the whole process, as pathetic as it may sound.

The silly thing about humans is that we tend to appreciate people a lot more when they are close to the end. And he understanding that his final battle was close, he could do nothing but to kiss her pale skin and devoured her lips hungrily because he knew as clearly as he knew he was going to die that he loved her.

They had reached Hogwarts hours ago and they hadn't had the stamina to walk the ten feet that separated them from the door. Their aim was to inform Dumbledore about the status of their plan in person but they had merely sent the old man an owl, simply writing what Lucius had in mind and waiting for further order on his behalf. As I said, they lacked the strength to move because their souls were saying goodbye in the most fabulous of ways: loving.

Extreme emotions can only arise from facing death.

"I love you," she confessed while caressing his black hair. He was going to miss her caresses so much that tears of frustrations were fighting for release in his eyes. Those smooth hands of her had transported him to fantastic places by their bare touch. He was going to a land, however, were her caresses would not be allowed and that filled his soul with sadness.

"I love you too," he replied minutes after kissing her palms fondly and looking straight into her beautiful big brown eyes. He was going to miss those big brown eyes so much.

"Why are you so sad?," she dared to ask while being slowly kissed in the neck by her husband. She knew he was distressed for something but Hermione Granger could only dare imagine the reason behind the mellow façade.

"I am not sad," he answered. He could reply nothing more; he wanted not to destroy her heart prematurely even if he knew that his fate had been sealed long ago. He could deny it no more.

But just when he thought that the questioning was over and that soon enough he would be lying on his back in the middle of the living room floor of his chambers thinking about a possible escape, the tear that has struggled for release had won the battle and was now running freely down his cheek and onto her stomach where it landed like a raindrop in a Yorkshire lake.

"I see," was all she said kissing his cheek and massaging the path the tear had carved, "You needn't worry. We will both die," she sentenced knowing for a fact that life without him was no life at all, "We are together, remember: "For as long as you both shall live"," she added with a bright smile that cleared all his fears. She had the gift of making him happy, whatever the occasion, whatever the sorrow.

"I will never let you do that," he whispered, nonetheless, some time later when her eyes had lost its sparkle because of his sudden weakness, "I appreciate you too dearly, my love, to let you die. My life is rotten; Hermione and thus you should understand I deserve to die. Your life, on the other hand, has just started and I am sure that the future will bring many wonderful things for you," he said caressing her curls with his right hand. He was going to miss those curls so much that a sudden sadness invaded his body entirely: he was going to lose her.

"If fate decides your death, then I will decide mine for I will assault your laboratory for a venom so powerful that I will be seeing your beautiful face as soon as my lips touch the bottle," she threatened with a fierce look on her face; she meant every word.

"Do you really believe that I am worth dying for?," he asked standing up and walking towards the fireplace. Hermione was staring intently at his back from the spot in which she had been seated since her return to Hogwarts. Oh Gods! He was so handsome. His slim waist made his upper torso look even bigger and that made her feel protected. It was nice to know that he was there to defend her; to give his life for that she could breath and live a different existence with a man he picture in his mind as perfect for her. Little did he know that for Hermione Granger there was no one in the world more ideal than Severus Snape and that she was going to keep her promise: not even death was going to separate them.

"Of course," she answered standing up as well and joining him near the fire while the roaring flames warmed their calves. He was there, daring not to look straight into her eyes for he knew that if he indeed dived into those enormous pools of love, he would drown in her for all the eternity. And that, though tempting as it may sound, was not fair for her.

"Shall I carry you to our bedroom?," he inquired stretching his hand for her to take it. But she didn't. Instead she positioned herself behind him and pressed her cheek really hard against his pale skin. She, then, proceeded to hug him with all her might trying to prove once again how capable she was of making him feel better. He had several beauty marks which she kissed before jumping on his back.

"Please, do carry me to our bedroom, my prince. I have been waiting for this moment my whole life," she whispered into his ear while he marched towards his bedroom. But that room was not his anymore. For the very first time they were going to share a bedroom of his own chambers knowing for a fact that they were husband and wife and that they were doing nothing wrong.

"My heart will be forever yours," he confessed while placing her on his silky black sheets.

"Is that a promise?," she asked, kissing his shoulder.

"It is a fact, my darling," he finally confessed, holding both her arms above her head and kissing her neck fondly.

After that, there was no need for words; their bodies were doing all the talking.

Meanwhile, several feet above the dungeons a very old man was writing a reply to his most faithful friend, requesting his own death.