Chapter 44:

The next morning breaks cold, snow falling softly over the castle, blanketing her in white. I awake early. Severus finds me an hour before we are required down in the Great Hall, staring out the window. He presses a mug of hot tea in to my hand, which I accept greatly.

"What happened, Bena?" he asks. Last night I refused to give him any details of my conversation with Voldemort. He is quite persistant.

"What do you mean, Severus?" I ask, using the mug to hide my smile.

Severus exhales irritably. Perhaps I should stop.

"Severus, please."

"Please?"

I close my eyes. "I felt it time to explain to Voldemort that my loyalties are not his." Severus leans against the wall, a tired hand reaching up to run against his temples.

"Whose are they?"

"Yours."

Soft laughter.

"I am serious, Severus."

"Bena, I love you desperately. But I cannot imagine a situation where you would choose me over your uncle. And I cannot fault you for that. Albus is far more inspiring than I am. He is who you should follow." Severus says, his eyes closed, his face pinched.

I take a few moments more to study him, carefully arranging my words. "I know."

He opens one eye and looks at me.

"You are right. Albus is far more important to the world than are you or I. He will actually be remembered years, decades, generations from now. You and I shall fall to the masses and not matter. But that, Severus, is why I choose you. Albus has a thousand strong to call from. You do not."

"I have built myself that small group, Bena. I do not need your sympathy." He says harshly.

"Fine." I spit, angry at him for refusing my gift. I storm out the room, already angry at myself for my overreaction. Damn the man, he has a gift for turning everything and everyone against him. I leave our rooms, determined to find some solace before the day begins.

I am not that fortunate, however. I find a patch of undisturbed snow on a windowsill overlooking the lake and few floors up and west of our rooms. My tea, still gripped firmly in my hand, has cooled, but with a tempering spell begins steaming again. I stare out the window, collecting my thoughts.

I notice it is silent. Too silent. I whirl around. "Harry." I say simply, my voice devoid of any emotion. I am not certain how I feel about his intrusion on my bad mood.

He does not say anything, simply approaches and joins me at the window.

"It's coming."

Baffled, I ask him what.

"The storm."

I look out the window, but the clouds simply look as though the light snow will continue, nothing further. I say as much.

He gives a soft laugh and shakes his head. "Not that. I mean the next battle with Voldemort. It's coming soon."

My eyes widen for a moment. "How do you know."

"I'm sure Dumbledore and Hermione would say it's because I haven't been practicing occlumency hard enough, or that I've gone completely off my rocker, but I feel it in my bones. That was something Uncle Vernon's mother used to say when she'd visit, when I was very young. That she could feel the rain coming in her bones. It made Uncle Vernon very nervous, but he didn't believe you could anything in your bones." He says wistfully.

"I don't know what to say, Harry." I say truthfully.

"There's not much to say, Bena." He says softly. "I know you will protect me when the time comes. I know this isn't the end battle. He has a purpose. I" he hesitates, "I think it's you."

I nod. "It very well could be."

"Why don't you leave?" he asks. Not cruelly, merely a request for information.

"My place is here."

"You mean with Dumbledore?" he asks.

"Perhaps. But I was referring to Severus."

He makes a face, but quickly recovers. "I wondered. Bena, do you think I can do this?"

"Oh, yes, Harry, I do." He looks at me, a brief tear in the corner of his left eye. It is gone before I pull him into my arms for a hug. We stand there for a moment, before a loud thump is heard outside the castle.

"We have to go." He says resolutely at me. I nod silently and follow him down the nearest staircase.