Inspiration taken somewhat from Matthew Good Band's "Running For Home."

This was meant as a one-shot, but I left it open for continuation if the mood or inspiration strikes, or if readers enjoy it.

She stood by the lake, under the shadows of a large tree. The moonlight was her only solace, gently hugging her sobbing form. She had failed them all; ghosts of the past encircled her mind in a noose of hopelessness. In the beginning, there had been happiness and peace; young children getting used to one another. She, Harry, and Ron had been inseparable friends.

And then there was war and terrible loss. They drifted apart, and people started dying. Cedric. The attacks on the Ministry. Like a star exploding, everything continually got worse. Light faded to pure inky black, blotting out hope. And then Dumbledore was killed. His tomb glistened in her mind, a reminder of who they were fighting for. He had been Harry's last true hope, the only one strong enough to drive him onwards. His last clue in the locket - R.A.B. - Dumbledore would have been able to decipher. But she was not. She was not smart enough or powerful enough or strong enough to keep Harry going. And she had lost Ron to Lavendar. So there was nothing but ghosts, and ghosts were not good company.

She pulled her last hope from within her robes. The moonlight glinted off its small, metallic body; her salvation would ironically come from a Muggle invention. A gun. This would be her last night alive, and nobody would know where she was. They would assume her dead, and they would be right - if they ever cared to find out. Just one more casualty of war, ultimately.

A noise behind her made her spin around. A figure shrouded in black robes was making his way towards the water. She ducked behind the tree, but not before she recognized the crooked nose and pitch black eyes. Severus Snape. The one who had killed Dumbledore. Was he here to kill her too? She could kill him, do at least one thing right.

"Expelliarmus," she whispered, and his wand came flying to her hand. Now he was powerless against her, or at least she hoped.

"Who's there?" he hissed. "At least show yourself, coward."

She stepped out from behind the tree, watching with an icy pleasure a look of shock register on his face. "Hermione Granger?"

"You're a fine one to speak of cowards," she growled. A bitter rage suddenly hit her, the first true feeling other than numbness to overcome her in a long time. His eyes were locked on the gun, a silver beacon that conveyed the severity of the night.

"Please get it over with quickly," he sighed. "I promise I won't fight." His apathy made her hesitate, but she closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger anyway. This would be her contribution to the war. Dumbledore's killer taken down with a Muggle weapon. It was something, anyway.

His cry of pain made her open his eyes. She had nearly missed him, but had just clipped his wand arm. He was bleeding, but nowhere near dead. "Surely the perfect Miss Granger didn't miss?" he sneered. "Maybe wipe those useless tears from your eyes, so that you can actually accomplish something." His biting words lacked their usual venom.

"Why are you here?" She decided to play with him awhile, make him suffer in pain while she grilled him. A fire was spreading through her bones. The war had stolen her innocence and happiness and had replaced it ultimately with cynicism and coldness. She had nothing to lose anymore.

"Probably for the same reason you were."

"And that is?"

"I came to die. When I saw you with the gun, I was hoping that you'd save me the effort. There's nothing left redeeming for me now."

"Obviously," she snarled. "Did the Dark Lord run out of innocents for you to kill?"

He looked away. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he choked hoarsely, suddenly.

"What?"

He looked up at her, hollow eyes filled with pain. "It's easier to just hate me for what I've done. So please just kill me and get it over with. Then go back to that Potter boy and boast to him that you've avenged Dumbledore." On the mention of the old Headmaster, his voice cracked. "That gun makes you look nicer in a bad way."

Hermione was completely taken aback. Her head swam. "What?"

"I saw your face before you saw me. You were crying; tears are weakness and there is no room for weakness in the battlefield. Draco cried too, and I had to do his dirty work for him. Would that I had broken the vow instead, and died..."

Dumbfounded now, her mind began to race. "What?"

"Has the brilliant Miss Granger lost her mind? Too much studying, perhaps?" Again, his voice was flat. His words were just for the sake of making words, talking like it was simply a reflex.

She wanted to hit him, to kill him for the insults he had the nerve to fling at her, but she was stunned. And for the first time since Dumbledore had died, she got the feeling that there was more to the world than black and white, good and evil. "You made an Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yes."

She watched his face, his eyes were hollow and clouded but he said no more. Finally, she asked the only thing that came to mind. "Why are you here?" She just wanted him to talk, say something more.

"Like I said. I want to die. Now, either extract your revenge or leave me to my task."

"But..."

He sighed. "I'm tired, Miss Granger."

"I am too."

They stood, eyeing each other in silence. Finally, he slumped to the ground, his injury overcoming him. "Would you prefer to just let me bleed to death from my current wound? If so, you're going to have to open it more, as the blood is starting to coagulate."

She sighed, and suddenly collapsed to the earth beside him. It was too late at night; she acutely felt the exhaustion of seven years in her body. "I'm not going to do anything, not until you tell me everything."

"What the fuck do you want me to say?"

"Why you killed him. Why you betrayed us. Where the hell you've been hiding. What the Dark Lord is planning now. Why you want to die." Her sudden boldness shocked her as much as it did him. She should just kill him, but she didn't know what she would do after that, or if she could even bring herself to take a life. If she did she would be sinking to his level, something she wasn't sure she could do. Even if it were just to take her own now...

He glared at her. "I don't think any of that is your business, to begin with. What are you doing here, away from your beloved friends at Hogwarts?"

She matched his gaze, idly waving the gun. "Answer my questions first."

"I could kill you, you know. With or without my wand or Muggle weapons." Her eyes bore into his, searching. "There's no point trying Occulemency on me."

"I don't need it," she repiled simply. "I know you wouldn't dare."

It was neither the first nor last time that night, but he conceeded. "No. Not now."

They sat in an increasingly uncomfortable silence for what seemed an eternity. Unexpectedly, he was the one who broke it. "I was always on Dumbledore's side. I only killed him because he'd made me promise to when I told him of the Unbreakable Vow. But with him gone and with what I had to do, I couldn't show my face to anyone in the Order. For the last three months I've been by the Dark Lord's side night and day, I know what he's planning and when. Everyone thinks me totally loyal to his cause. But I could not bear to be there when he..." Snape trailed off, grimacing in pain.

"He what?"

"He's going to attack Hogwarts in two weeks' time. This time, everyone will die. And I can do nothing to stop it."

Hermione gasped. "No..."

"Yes. That is why I came here tonight. I was going to fling myself into the lake and choke for air until I could breathe no more. Now perhaps you will be so kind as to finish what you started. Maybe you can then go back and save your beloved friends and be named a hero. You deserve it much more than the Potter boy."

She just shook her head. "No. No no no," she began to mutter to herself, rocking back and forth. Her emotions were a tumultuous turbine in her stomach. "Why should I believe any of this?"

"Because I have nothing to lose any more. You seem to believe the same of yourself, from the looks of things."

"You're right," she whispered. "I've lost everyone too. I could not help Harry and I could not keep Ron and I could not do anything for anyone anymore. All of my studying, my intelligence, my top marks mean nothing when people are getting killed and I'm not smart enough to figure out things like...like Dumbledore could..." she choked.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "Do you think I wanted to kill the only man I trusted? Do you think it was easy for me to cast that Unforgiveable, and then to run away? All I see when I close my eyes is that, over and over. I close my eyes and scream."

She shook her head, burning saline prickling the back of her eyes.

"Just hate me and kill me. Do us both a favour."

"I can't. Even if you deserve it."

"Don't you think I do?"

"I...don't know anymore." She began to sob again. "I'm just so goddamned tired of this. Of everything. I want to run for home, but have nowhere to run to."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "But you are not friendless like I am. Go to Potter, to Weasley." He sneered at the mention of the two of them. "To Minerva, even. Save the bloody school and be adorned as a hero, and just fucking leave me to die!"

Stunned, Hermione stopped in mid-sob. "You were really on our side." Her mind began to race again. "Why didn't you...why didn't he...The school is really going to be attacked, isn't it." The last was a statement, not a question; in terror she gasped for air and would have collapsed if she were not already sitting on the ground.

"I. Couldn't. And yes, it is." He gritted his teeth.

She fought to control the sobs still racking her body. Finally, they subsided somewhat. "What are we going to do?" she said, finally.

"Nothing." A lone tear ran down his face, and he clawed viciously at the traitor. "I can't do anything except die. I am not going to kill again, and I cannot live."

"But if the Dark Lord is really planning an attack on Hogwarts, we need to prepare! And we'd need your help, your knowledge!" She was shaking, trying not to cry again.

"Do you think that anyone there would welcome me back with open arms?" Snape scowled. "You don't seem to understand what it means to truly have nothing, Miss Granger. Your self-pity is foolish, and you have deluded yourself into believing that you have nothing to live for. Nobody cares if I live or die, however your death would be a waste. And, again, unlike myself, people would mourn the loss of you and your fantastic mind. Now get out of here, and leave me alone."

Unexpectedly, Hermione did the last thing she'd ever thought she would do. Headlong, she flung herself at Severus Snape and began sobbing into his chest. Their bodies were bound to turn up eventually from the war, but this was not the night to die. Soon, she would have to do something to save Hogwarts - she owed it to everyone now that she had this information - but for now she would allow herself the luxury of crying and failing. Equally unexpectedly, Snape wrapped his uninjured arm around her, and began sobbing into her shoulder as well. They screamed silently together and eventually fell asleep, curled together under the tree.

The blaze of morning would burn their eyes soon enough...