Dear Wondering Witch, thank you so much for your quick and kind beta-reading.

Please review. I'd really like to know whether you like my story. Critical remarks are welcome, too.

Chapter 10

Empty. The houses they had chosen for the raid were empty. They searched every single house – nothing! Attacking this quarter had seemed perfect. The parents of that filthy Muggle friend of Potter's, Granger, lived there. How could this have happened? This day should have been a triumph, and now it was yet another failure. The Death Eaters gathered in confusion. The following festivities with the usual orgies were not enough to calm them, and Voldemort began to worry seriously. Time was running out; he would have to lure Harry Potter to his lair as soon as possible, or his servants would lose their trust in him.

Ron Weasley was in a bad mood. How he hated to be poor! Did his parents even know what it was like to wear the robes of his elder brothers or even worse of other relatives? He'd nearly died of humiliation when he had to wear a robe which had belonged to awoman before. Did they know how it was never to get new books? The only new broom he had ever got was a Cleansweep 11, nothing special, and of course the Slytherins had mocked him. Yes, he had been grateful, his parents could not afford more, but they did not understand him. They seemed to be perfectly happy, and they always told him that a good family life was better than new robes. He loved his siblings, except Percy, of course. He also loved his parents dearly and even admired them, his mother for her work for the Order and his father for his moral standards, but sometimes he wished…

Ron had counted his savings, but it was not nearly enough to buy a new broom, and he desperately needed one. Maybe his broom would carry him through another match, but maybe not. He was good at Quidditch now, but with this broom he was simply too slow. Perhaps if he looked for sales...He would go to Hogsmeade this weekend but alone. He did not want any of his friends to pity him for not being able to buy a decent broom. Least of all, he wanted Harry offering to borrow or even bestow him the money.

Finally, the last lesson on Friday was over, and he slipped out of the castle, and made his way to the village. As a student of the seventh year, he was allowed to visit Hogsmeade without a written permission. His heart sank while he wandered around and looked at the shops. Few sales and even these few sales were too expensive for him. But there! There was a new store. It had to be new. He had never seen it before and the sign read BROOMS WITH LITTLE FLAWS FOR SALE. Well, that was it! A little flaw at the handle, that was bearable. If he polished it well, nobody would even notice. He opened the door and was greeted by an eager little wizard who led him to the cheapest brooms he had ever seen.

At lunch, Ron took the seat next to Harry in the Great Hall as usual. "Hi Harry, got a minute later on? I'd like to ask you a favour," he asked, chewing his meat, and grinned." Harry stayed as asked; he noticed that Ron's bad mood was gone and was curious what had happened.

"Harry, you know my old broom is crap. Today I have been in Hogsmeade and have found a new store. They've got really cheap brooms. You are the best Quidditch player I've ever seen; help me to choose a broom." Harry's eyes gleamed. New brooms! Of course he would accompany Ron! Professor McGonagall hat told him to be careful and not to go away alone, but Hogsmeade was safe, and besides he was with Ron.

The little store had to be new indeed. Harry had never seen it before either. These brooms in the shop, Ron was right, they had excellent prices. Maybe Harry would buy a backup-broom, just in case his broom broke like in his third year. They entered and were lucky. Harry and Ron were the only customers at the moment and the shop-owner was very oblinging. Yes, he had a great stock of brooms. If the gentlemen were so kind to follow him to the rear of the store? And if the gentlemen would like to examine the brooms thouroughly; these flaws were hardly noticable.

Harry did not notice Ron's glassy eyes and touched the broom, suddenly feeling the familiar jerk behind his navel as he was whisked away. Stupid! How could he have been so stupid? It had been a trap! He did not have time to fetch his wand from his sleeve, and he looked into the triumphant face of the evil wizard who pointed his wand at him. Harry heard Voldemort's laughter and knew he was going to die.

"Finally!" Voldemort hissed. "All these times you escaped by lucky coincidence. But now you are alone; none of your precious friends is with you. Your great protector being dead, everbody will see that you are nothing but a boy who learned a few tricks. There is no greater wizard than me. But I have waited too long to abstain from a little enjoyment. Crucio!" Harry fell to the ground writhing in agony, and through the mist before his eyes Harry heard the Death Eaters cheer and laugh. From the corner of his eye, he saw the distant figure of Severus Snape hurrying towards Voldemort, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry groaned, clenching his hands to his robes in pain. "Though Dumbledore was killed, i he /i was the greatest wizard of all times. He will always be remembered by his friends, even when I am dead."

Voldmort chuckled. "Hear, hear, still defending him? How noble! Look, what his gullability cost him. You cannot escape this time, and now we will see how you beg for your life. Of course, you will recognise this spell." He raised his wand. "Sectum..." But then he stopped in horror, his eyes not prepared for the person who appeared at Harry's side out of thin air: Albus Dumbledore! Voldemort heard him shouting something to Snape and then, before he could react, Dumbledore clutched Harry's robe, and both of them disappeared.

Strangely enough, the traitor remained. He had not even moved. When Snape heard Voldemort uttering the spell, he knew that this one was as deadly for him as the Killing Curse. He fell to the ground, and the Death Eaters left his body behind as a reminder what would happen to traitors.

Hermione was restless. Every time Severus was gone, she was anxious until he was back safely. She was glad that she only had to teach first years today. This did not take all her strength. She was writing the ingredients of a simple potion on the board when she suddenly heard hell break loose outside the classroom. Then the door was torn open and a little Hufflepuff came running in gasping. "Professor Dumbledore! He is not dead! He is back! He is alive!"

Thank God, everything is over. "Have you seen Professor Snape? Is he with Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

The girl paused, realising the fact that the headmaster was alive meant Snape was no murderer. "I have not see him, but I have not paid attention."

Hermione hurried outside. Severus! Perhaps the girl had had only eyes for Dumbledore, but then again...Fear gripped her heart. She raced to the Great Hall, seeing Dumbledore and Harry amidst a great crowd, a deafening noise surrounding them. Dumbledore looked up and met Hermione's gaze across the students. She stopped dead in her tracks and knew. Severus – he was dead! Then everything went black.

Hermione awoke in the infirmary. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Albus Dumbledore's worried face. She struggled to sit up, still dizzy, and looked at him. "Did you find him?" she croaked finally.

Dumbldore sighed and nodded sadly. "We found him; they left him behind. We brought him to Hogwarts, but I am afraid..."

Hermione did not wait for further explanation and got out of the bed with strain. "I want so see him. Where is he?"

Dumbledore led her into the connecting room. A still form was lying on a bed as if sleeping, but Madam Pomfrey only looked at Dumbledore and Hermione with sad eyes. "My potions don't work. He is in a coma, and I cannot identify the spell he has been hit by. His heart is beating, but... There is nothing I can do. We cannot administer potions, because there is no swallowing reflex. He would suffocate."

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione pleaded. "Surely you know the most complicated curses. You can identify the spell, you can..." Her voice trailed away when she saw Dumbledore shaking his head, tears in his eyes.

"It is my fault," the Headmaster said hoarsely. "I'm so sorry. I saw him standing at Tom's side and I told him to Disapparate, but he did not even move. He stayed there, he, he wanted to die. I did not know..." His voice broke. Finally, he whispered, "But I should have known, I should have sensed that he was too tired to live on. Years ago he told me that he had nothing to live for and that our cause was worth do die for. I should have protected him, too. I was supposed to be his friend. I failed...I..." Albus Dumbledore covered his face with his hands and wept.

Eventually he looked up. "Hermione, Severus gave me something for you. He...". The old wizard cleared his throat, tears running down his cheeks and handed a scroll to Hermione. "He told me to give you this in case...You might read it now as well."

Hermione's trembling hands unrolled the scroll.

Dear friend,

By the time you get this letter, I will have passed on. I have always known that it would be only a matter of time. My death does not matter. My usefulness for the Order is over now and so is the purpose of my life. I only hope that I could atone for a small amount of my deeds.

I want you to know that I cherished these past few weeks very much. Having a friend in my life who appreciated me despite everything I have done was more than I would ever have expected, least deserved.

I have seen how you admired my library. The books shall belong to you, and perhaps you will sometimes think of me reading them.

Yours,

Severus

Hermione collapsed and cried helplessly. Harry and Ron watched her, confused.

When rumour spread through the Wizarding world that Snape lay in the infirmary, dying, delegates from the Ministry came to Hogwarts, and of course Rita Skeeter tried to sneak in.

Hermione sat beside Snape's bed for hours. At first, she had been convinced that there would be a solution and that Severus would finally wake up, but now it was obvious for her that there was no hope. He was wasting away; he would die. They had even fetched a wizard who was familiar with Muggle methods like intravenous administering of potions, but it was futile. Hermione heard an employee of the Ministry talking to Dumbledore about Snape's upcoming funeral, how this would be an excellent opportunity for the Minister of Magic to deliver a speech about the efforts of the Ministry to deal with the Dark Lord. Dumbledore's eyes went cold, and he told the wizard to get out before he would hex him.

Severus' skin was grey, his cheekbones and his nose more prominent than ever. Dumbledore had hired an assistant who only attended to Severus, a young beautiful witch named Serenita Aspen. She sat at his bed for hours, watching him. Hermione was touched to see how she took Severus' fate to her heart, though she did not know him. She even saw tears in her eyes. Despite all her efforts, Madam Pomfrey could not identify the spell. Nevertheless, Serenita brought textbooks from the library, hoping she would find something. But everything was in vain. Four days, maybe five and then…

Hermione took comfort in the knowledge that Severus did not suffer. According to Madam Pomfrey, he was in a deep coma, his eyes showing no reflexes, his body not feeling anything. But she was wrong. What nobody knew was that Severus Snape heard, smelt and felt everything that surrounded him or was done to him. He felt the hands on his body, heard the conversations at his bed. He wanted to cry, wanted to move, but could not. He was thirsty and hungry beyond imagination, and he knew he would die. Voldemort had chosen this spell well. Obviously, he had decided not to use the Killing Curse now that he knew that Dumbledore had survived this one.

Finally, they brought Severus to his former quarters to die in dignity. Hermione moved to the guest rooms.