AN: All right, I was aiming for a post before Christmas but I procrastinated. Here's a new years treat for all of you. I'd like to make it known that I fully intend to give this story a happy ending. But I'd also like nothing more then to make the path there considerably darker than it has been thus far. In an effort to draw this story out more fully, I want to explore a deeper plot. I think my problem has been that I can see where I'm going already, but I'm not quite sure how to get there so it may take time. So, thanks for sticking with it so far and I hope you enjoy everything coming in the future.

Before I Knew

Chapter 11

By Poet

XXXXXXXXXXX

"If the bond cannot be broken by the seventh month of the seventh year, then hope will be lost."

Useless.

"The caster holds power over the victim. If the bond is not severed, the amount of energy required to maintain it will kill the victim. If the bonder is killed, then the victim will die."

Hopeless.

"Dark Magic can only be broken by the purest of things. Love, born of evil intent, shall break hearts. Love, born from the remnants of sorrow, shall mend them."

None of it meant anything useful. Three months of research had been for nothing. Text after text, spell after spell. Nothing had produced even an inkling of a cure. The only consistent find was the fact that if the spell wasn't broken in time, then Hermione would die. They were at a loss. Even the most recently uncovered information was vague, crudely translated from some long unspoken language. Guess work at best was something no one could afford time for. Their options were running out. The addition of a definant time table loomed threateningly closer with each failure.

Frustrated once more, Severus hurled his book into the fireplace. The fire flared and a deep blue flame engulfed the magical pages bound in the thick leather volume. Looking up from her own book, Hermione frowned and watched Severus hunch over, his head in his hands. Rising from her place on the long sofa, she walked silently to him. She felt his harsh exhalation as she wrapped her arms around him from behind his chair. For a moment he sat immobile before leaning back and reclining into her embrace. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, she stared ahead, into the violently blue flames.

"It would be much simpler if we could kill him." Surprised, Severus glanced upwards but Hermione wouldn't meet his gaze. Not bothering to respond he glanced at the stack of useless books, growing larger every night, and grunted in disgust.

"It would seem that simplicity is not something easily come upon." Severus felt Hermione laugh softly against him. Smiling despite his mood, he felt her lips against his scalp briefly before she withdrew from him. Turning his head to watch her, she walked away from the light of the fire and settled beside one of the windows in the room. She looked out, her features barely visibly in the absence of light. Even from a distance, Severus could detect the weariness in her form. The changes had been very subtle. . More then anything she looked tired. Then, with their discovery that there was time table set for the curse, she had taken a downhill turn. Within the last few months the toll the bond was taking on her body became evident. She'd grown paler and gaunt around her cheekbones. For the past two months Severus had been administering doses of pepper-up potion which worked remarkably well. It was a temporary solution and they both knew that it was merely a bit more time stolen back.

When the term began, he had resumed teaching full time and searching for her cure when he was not in classes. She had been right along with him. Most nights they would be in his study or hers, their rooms adjoined at the start of their partnership. Without the restrictions of teaching duties, Hermione was free to spend her time looking for answers. When Severus was free from classes, she helped him grade papers. It became a rare occurrence to see either of them away from the dungeons for an extended period of time. Albus had excused them both from meals in the Great Hall, making excuses for Severus among the staff. Hermione's condition was kept within the strictest confidences. Only Albus and Minerva knew anything else about it.

Before beginning their search for Hermione's cure, it was decided that no one outside the four of them would know. For Hermione's sake, it was obvious that if any information were to escape the confines of the castle, it could be disastrous to her health. In nearly four months no one had seen or heard from Ronald Weasely. He had simply disappeared. At first, Severus had allowed himself to hope that perhaps everything was over, but Hermione's condition never improved and that hope was thoroughly dashed. It was finally decided that he had simply gone underground, perhaps in an attempt to draw her out. As far as any of them knew, he still didn't know they had discovered his allegiances.

Hermione had been under the influence of the curse for 6 years, 11 months. She had a little over 8 left if the information they had uncovered could be trusted. None of them doubted it. Though the origins of the curse were unclear, the general purpose was reveled in short order. It was meant for nothing more than ownership. If the victim tried to resist, then they would die. Slowly and painfully drained of life, and their ability to resist. Now with the approach of Hermione's seventh year under the debilitating curse, only one passage had offered any hint that there might be a way to circumvent the inevitable.

"Love, born of evil intent, shall break hearts. Love, born from the remnants of sorrow, shall mend them." Her voice in the darkness startled Severus from his own internal dialogue. Glancing over, he found her still positioned at the window. "What could it mean?" Her voice betrayed her fatigue and Severus stood to go to her.

"Perhaps Mr. Weasley's motives were born from love. Or, at the very least, lust. He must feel he owns you in some way. That's what the curse is intended for. His intentions were evil, and they are destroying you." In the darkness Severus's voice was a quiet whisper. They'd had this conversation several times, each more difficult than the last.

"And what of love from sorrow?"

"As to that, I cannot say." The sudden desire to touch her overwhelmed him and he pulled her roughly into his arms. Rocking her slightly, he drew a shuddering breath and cursed anything he could pull to mind for the unfairness dropped on Hermione's shoulders. Her hands running gently over his lower back soothed him and he exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"I'm afraid Severus." It was the first time she had openly admitted it. The admission chilled him and he wrapped his arms tighter around her in an effort to ward off the nagging voices in his head.

"Come. To bed. Save your strength." Pulling back slightly, he offered her a smile he hoped was brave. She regarded him carefully for a long moment. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, Severus drew her away from the window and led her through nearby doors into her bedroom. In the dim candlelight he settled the comforter over her and sat beside her on the edge of the four-poster. She lay silently, watching him watch her. For a long time neither said anything. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"What are you thinking?" Severus smiled, chuckling softly. This had become their routine of late. Normally he'd beat her to the punch and ask her the question. Tonight he had remained silent, lost in thought. Smiling down at her, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. The glint of the lone ring on his hand in the candlelight caught his attention. Wordlessly he removed it from his right hand and grasped hers gently. Slipping the heavy silver band over her right ring finger, he studied it for a long moment before meeting her gaze.

"I am thinking that I would like nothing better than to make love to you until the sun comes up tomorrow." Bending he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling on the floor. "I am thinking about how beautiful you are when you smile or when you yell at me." Bending again, he placed a kiss once more upon her, this time landing at her lips. Withdrawing only slightly, he smiled again. "Actually, I'm thinking that when you are better and your strength has returned I will do exactly the first thing I said." He grinned when she slapped him on the arm and laughed. "I am only a man after all."

"You're terrible Severus." This time she rose up slightly to press her lips against his. Still grinning he stood and moved to remove his outer coat. Standing before her in little else but his under clothes he slid into the bed as she moved to make room for him. Resting his forehead against hers, he sighed and closed his eyes. It took only moments before her breathing evened and she was asleep. Placing a kiss on her forehead, Severus regarded the woman in his arms. Leaning forward ever so slightly, his lips rested against her ear and he whispered.

"I am thinking that I would love nothing more than to have you as my beautiful wife. That I could do no more than love you until time itself ends." Fingering the ring on her hand, he sighed and closed his eyes again. "I am thinking, that if you leave this world Hermione, I shall have nothing left to keep me here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The grounds of Hogwarts held an erie beauty at night. With shadows falling long from the Forbidden Forest, moon less nights held an almost menacing air. It had not changed in years. Anyone daring enough to venture out at night did so with considerable risk. Despite being a school, Hogwarts and the immediate country side played host to many creatures. A great number of them could be vicious and potentially life-threatening. Tonight however, one in particular was not a resident of the Forest. From the confines of the Shrieking Shack, just overlooking the farthest edge of the Hogwarts grounds a lone figure stood, turned towards the great stone building in the distance.

Turning at long last from the building in the distance, Ron Weasley retreated into the dilapidated building. For weeks he had been living within the confines of the dank shack. With no way to get closer to the castle without the possibility of alerting anyone to his presence, he had opted for the 'out of sight out of mind' perspective. If no one could find him, no one would know he was up to anything. Though it was true that he knew nothing of Hermione's attempts to find a cure, he did find himself feeling slightly panicked by something he could not name. The feeling had driven him to inhabit the Shrieking Shack in the first place.

When the bond had been made, Ron was fully aware that he had a certain amount of time to make it permanent. He had failed in every attempt and with the start of the seventh year fast approaching, he knew he was running short on time. The magic harnessed by the Dark Lord to create such a bond was ancient and as with many things lost and found over long periods of time, it had become slightly skewed. Hermione was never meant to die. It was by pure accident that Ron had discovered the extent of what he'd actually done.

As time passed, her close proximity had given little indication that anything had gone wrong. It was only in the last few months that he had found himself weakening inexplicably. At night he slept little, his dreams were of her. Her death. When they had lived under the same roof, her presence had a sort of calming affect on the strength of the bond, dulling it. But then he had attempted to make the bond permanent, and she had fled. Now, after months of separation the draw to her was almost irresistible. Driven by nothing more than a desire to claim what he felt he owned, he'd sat and waited for any sign that she might emerge from the safety of the castle.

He had yet to see her though. And it was time to act. With the death of his final informant, Ron had cut off his limited supply of information. Stalking quickly up the creaking stairs, Ron entered one of the long unused bedrooms. Out of ideas, exhausted from his constant vigilance over the castle and frustrated he threw himself onto the dusty bed shoved in a corner. Rubbing his hands roughly over his eyes, he felt his mind flashing suddenly. Hazy images of Hermione appeared and then disappeared instantly. He thought he could see the familiar stone halls of the castle but it was too quick to tell. Inhaling deeply, his breath caught when an image came, stayed longer then any other and then left. Sitting bolt upright, he glared at nothing and tried to recall what he had seen. For a brief second he'd seen inside a dimly lit room and was conscious that Hermione was laying down. For some reason the sense that she wasn't alone nagged at his consciousness. Suddenly Ron found himself in a fury, picking up the nearest piece of furniture and hurling it across the room.

''She was with someone!'' Pacing brutally fast back and forth across the room, he practically snarled in the darkness. "How dare she" Stopping suddenly, he was aware that his hands were trembling and clammy with sweat. Thrusting a hand into his robe he withdrew his wand sharply and stalked quickly to the stairs. Descending them two at a time, he threw open the cellar door and made his way quickly through the darkness. Winding carefully, but quickly down a long rocky path, he came to an abrupt end about 300 meters later. Pointing his wand upwards, he whispered 'stupefy' and then tore out of the opening above his head. Looking around to gather his bearings, Ron took in the suddenly familiar area. At his back was the now immobilized Whomping Willow. Ahead, just over the tops of the tallest trees the higher towers of Hogwarts could be seen. Ron was inside the grounds and in a rage he'd never felt before. Gripping his wand tightly in his hand, he began a fast jog uphill, the school looming ever closer in the distance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ooh cliffhanger. It's fun being cruel and unusual.

But seriously, thanks for all the lovely reviews and support. You guys make my day! Enjoy.