Snape was sitting in a chair in front of Albus Dumbledore's desk, his fingers steepled and his mouth set in an undesirable scowl.

"You never told me," he growled in an almost dangerous tone.

Dumbledore looked at Snape considering, the twinkle still in his eye, but slightly dampened. "I didn't think it mattered, Severus. Miss Granger is, after all, still the same bright and intelligent person she was when she was still in Hogwarts."

Snape snorted at this. "Oh yes, I can see that. Promiscuous sex with anyone with a galleon. Yes, that's exactly what I would call bright and intelligent. Damn it, Albus, you should have told me! I should have been more prepared! I should have…" Snape stopped in mid-sentence, burying his face in his hands for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"Severus, I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I hadn't thought it possible. As I remember, you too had a most difficult time at one point in your life, and you have overcome it admirably with the help of others. I would like you to be the other to help Miss Granger."

Snape looked up at Dumbledore with an almost desperate look in his eyes. He wanted to help Hermione, more than he might care to admit to himself, but she was a mess; a drunk, desperate prostitute with no hope. A sudden thought crossed his mind, and he looked up at Dumbledore with a look of realization on his face. "Albus, I had thought that it wasn't possible for me to help Her-Miss Granger, but she could have easily killed herself by now, after all she had been through. Yet, Merlin knows how, she didn't. She must still have some hope."

Dumbledore nodded, the same knowing glint back in his eye. He was glad that Snape finally understood, even if Hermione, herself, didn't. Snape looked up at Dumbledore with a hopeful and determined expression.

"Albus, I'd like to bring her back here, to Hogwarts. I believe that here she will be able to get the help she needs to recover, and maybe feel a bit more at home,with these familiar surroundings."

Dumbledore's face clouded for a minute, but then he nodded. "Yes, I do believe that would be wise, but not until the school year is over. There are only two more weeks until the children return home. If she has held on this long, I do believe she will last for another two weeks, especially if you keep a very close eye on her, Severus. You do still have to attend to your duties as a professor here for the time being, but I would advise you to check up on her whenever you get the chanceor do not have other responsibilities until the school year is over. In fact, today is Saturday. Why don't you drop by at some point today and explain what all is going on. I do believe that it may offer her a small glimmer of hope in the shadows in which she in dwelling."

Snape nodded and murmured a thank you before leaving to go to his chambers, where he poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat down in his most comfortable armchair. As he sat there, gingerly sipping at his beverage, his mind drifted to Hermione. Her hair was slightly unkempt, her make-up had been smeared from crying, and her clothes were nearly in tatters. But to Snape, she had still been beautiful. She always had been to him. Of course, she also drove him up a wall with her know-it-all attitude and her pranks and choice of friends, mainly Potter and Weasley, but she had always been a pretty girl. Since fourth year, anyway. She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman over her time at Hogwarts, and the last good memory he had of her before she left was in the final battle, when she stood above Harry Potter in all her glory, facing Voldemort himself. Her face had been flushed with the exertion of fighting, and her eyes were livid with hatred. She was protecting the ones she loved, Harry and Ron, and hadn't an ounce of fear on her face. That was the moment when Snape had realized what a remarkable woman she had and would become.

The final battle had transpired far differently than anyone, even Dumbledore himself, would have predicted. The heroes had turned out to be defeated warriors, and the unsuspecting innocents had been found to suddenly save the day…

Ginny Weasley walked through the halls accompanied by Professor McGonagall towards Headmaster Dumbledore's office, clasping and unclasping her hands. She had been called out in the middle of potions to see him, and she had yet to find out what she had done wrong. She was so lost thinking about the possibilities of her error that she didn't realize she was on the moving staircase until they had reached the ledge, where Professor McGonagall asked her to watch her step. After a short knock, the professor opened the door to allow herself and Ginny inside before closing it deftly.

The headmaster looked up and smiled warmly towards Ginny, sensing her nervousness. "Please, sit down Miss Weasley," he motioned to a chair in front of him. "I can assure you that you are not in trouble. But I'm afraid a rather disturbing issue has arisen. Minerva?" He motioned towards the grim looking professor, who pulled a mutilated journal out from beneath her robs, and set it carefully on Dumbledore's desk. It was an aging, leather bound notebook with Tom Riddle stamped on its cover in gold print, and was saturated with ink, the basilisk's fang still stabbed through its center.

Ginny's eves widened for a moment and she looked at the headmaster with a fearful gaze, but tried to keep her voice calm. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Professor. I thought that this journal had been destroyed?"

Dumbledore looked grim, but not unkind, and nodded. "As had I. However, Professor Trelawney had recently notified me of its whereabouts, as well as much more information that you need to hear."

Ginny leaned back in her chair, and looked nervously from McGonagall to Dumbledore, unsure what exactly he was talking about. "Ok-kay, professor. I'm listening," she said with a shaky voice. Dumbledore nodded once before continuing.

"As you may or may not know, Professor Trelawney, our current divinations instructor, is a seer, albeit a random and unpredictable one. She rarely has visions, and has, in fact, had only a few real visions in her entire life. So, as you can imagine, we were all quite startled when she announced that she had one last night. In her vision she prophesized about a well dressed house elf that possessed this journal."

Ginny smiled, but looked a bit confused. "Dobby? But why would he have kept it?"

Dumbledore nodded again. "He looked at it as one of the reasons he gained his freedom, as without the book there would have been no sock." At Ginny's understanding look, he continued. "Now that we have located the book, the other parts of the prophecy will be able to take affect. You see, Professor Trelawney also spoke of 'a flaming angel who has been darkened once before'. We are not quite sure what all of the means, but she said that the young woman looked like you. And, so, here you are, about to help with the next part of the prophecy, if you are willing."

Ginny thought for a moment, before asking, "What do I have to do?"

Red hair splashed in front of her eyes as she ran towards the Great Hall, Tom Riddle's journal clutched in her arms. She quickly reached up and shoved it out of her face before walking into the large room, taking in the site before her: Death Eaters swarmed about the once cheerfully lighted chamber, their masks glowing eerily in the glows of spells. Five or six of them had already fallen, but a dozen students had already joined them on the floor. She spotted some of the students she knew immediately. Cho Chang was dueling with a Death Eater in one far corner, her hair sticking to a bloody patch on her head as blue sparks emitted from her wand. Seamus Finnigan was cornering another Death Eater back against a wall before cursing him unconscious. She smiled at this, and then saw her brother, Ron, get hit with a powerful spell that flew him into the opposite wall, his face a grimace of pain as he scrambled to his feet, already launching the next spell, which in turn flipped the Death Eater over on his face. She prayed quickly for his safety as she ran towards one of the empty and dark corners, sitting down and throwing Harry's invisibility cloak over herself so that she would not be interrupted during the spell.

Setting the book down in her lap, she looked at it for a moment, memories flashing through her mind from her first year. She shook her head and wrapped one hand tightly around the fang, the other firmly holding the book down in against her leg, and yanked upwards. The fang came out with a bit of resistance, but she quickly opened a blank page in the journal and held her left hand over it, the fang still in her right hand. She closed her eyes quickly and drew the sharp fang, its top still black with ink, across the palm of her hand and squeezing it quickly to let the blood fall upon the paper. A few crimson splashes appeared, but nothing else happened. She set the fang down and looked at the book more closely, panicking now. But she needn't have worried, because after a moment the blood spread outwards, all over the pages, to create an intricate spell that she knew she must speak. It was in Latin, which she had never taken, but she just hoped that she was getting the pronunciation right. She watched as Harry fought with Voldemort, becoming more and more drained as she kept reading. She knew he wouldn't last much longer, so she tried to read even faster, if that was possible. Soon, a blinding red light emitted from Voldemort, and when it had disappeared, a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle stood in his place. He looked dazed for a moment, then looked around and grinned evilly. Ginny felt something tickling the bottom of her back, and reached back to feel her hair had suddenly grown so long that it was sweeping the floor around her. Her robes had been replaced with a simple, white linen dress, and she was now barefoot. She looked down at her hands, which had started glowing blue, and quickly followed the urge to step out from under the invisibility cloak. Her mind was swirling with new thoughts and memories that she knew were not her own, and suddenly she felt as if her body were being taken over by someone else completely, and she was just watching from the sidelines. She wasn't afraid, though. Only calm and relaxed, and had a knowing feeling as she stepped towards Tom.

All fighting ceased and the hall was deadly quiet, not even a moan from the wounded broke the silence. All eyes rested upon her and Tom as she stopped a few feet in front of him and held out her arms. Tom's face turned from one of great surprise to one of both sorrow and joy as he ran to her and scooped her up in his arms. He stroked her hair lovingly as a single tear ran down his face. "My dear, sweet Lara. Oh, how I've missed you."

She smiled and sighed. "And I've missed you just as much, if not more. But now we can be together again. That is why I've come back, Tom: to bring you home."

Tom pulled away a bit, keeping Lara in his grasp at arms length. He was amazingly gentle with her, as no one had even seen before. He gazed at her with a puzzled expression, but soon looked eager. "How? How Lara? How can we be together?"

Ginny, or Lara as he called her, reached up gently and cupped his face in her hand. As he gently nuzzled against her touch, she whispered, "You must come with me. Your time has come, love, and if you leave with me now, all will be forgiven in the afterlife, and we will be together again, this time to never be parted.

Tom backed away from Lara a bit, a look of concern and slight sadness overcoming his features. Shaking his head ever so slightly and looking at the ground, he spoke softly. "But…but I have almost won. Don't you see Lara? My dream…my dream is almost complete."

Lara's eyes filled with sudden grief like no one in the room had even known. "Is this what you want, my love? To be feared and hated? Loathed, despised, and a murderer? Because if it is, Tom, I do not know you anymore…"

Tom looked grieved but scared as he rushed back to Lara, kneeling before her and taking her hands lovingly into his own. "No! No, Lara. You know that's no what I wanted. I wanted to be respected, admired, and powerful. I wanted to be remembered; to be a name no one would ever forget. That's all I ever wanted, Lara, and even in that I have failed. Please…take me home."

As two pairs of tearful eyes met, the young and anguished couple met in a crushing, yet somehow gentle, embrace. A magnificent light filled the room, blinding everyone in it momentarily. When their sight was regained, they all saw Ginny's lifeless body lying on the ground. Ron crawled forward on his hands and knees and cradled her limp form in his arms.

"No! Ginny! Bring her back, you bastard! Bring her back!" Ron's voice cracked and his entire body was wracked with sobs as everyone else looked on in mute horror, shock, relief, and pity. Harry managed to crawl forward as well, and placed a bloodied hand upon his best friend's shoulder assuredly. He whispered something in the other young man's ear that no one could hear except for Ron himself.

Suddenly, Ron turned towards Harry in hatred. "It's not fair!" He yelled in a cracked voice. "It should have been you!"

Harry had been pulling him into a hug as Ron screamed this at him, beating into Harry's chest with all his might before collapsing in his friend's warm embrace.

"Why her?" he sobbed. And no one dared say a word. The Death Eaters suddenly burned to small heaps of powder, screaming in agony. A warm glow shown dimly around the corpses of those on the side of the light quickly after before dimly fading, leaving the room silent, only broken with occasional sobs.

Yes, Severus remembered that day very well. As for the weeks and months that passed; well, they were all just a blur. Harry and his friends had quickly disappeared from the news a week later, as well as the entire incident, never to be mentioned again except for in the occasional books. The potions master never knew what had happened to the famous trio, but when he visited Hermione he'd make sure to find out.