Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to the immeasurable genius of JK Rowling; I just like to borrow them and play with them.


In the week following the Weasleys' funeral, Hermione spent a great deal of time with Ginny. Finally emerging from her shocked silence, she asked Hermione to constantly talk about anything and everything to take her mind off of what had happened.

In one of those conversations, late on Friday afternoon, a little over a week since Beltane Eve, there was a lull while Hermione tried to think of a new topic of conversation.

"You know the night… the other night," Ginny began, leaving little doubt in the tone of her voice to which night she was referring, "we all got woken up in Gryffindor Tower and taken to the Headmaster's office. Where were you?"

"What?" Hermione said absently. She had been sorting through her Charms notes while conversing with the younger girl, and she'd only half-heard the question.

"You came through the Floo with Professor Snape," Ginny stated.

"He's not really a Professor anymore," she said, still not really paying attention to her friend.

"Oh, I know that. I didn't even know he had stayed at Hogwarts after he was discovered."

Hermione looked up sharply.

"How did you even know that he was alive? No one is suppose to… did Ron—"

"Relax, Hermione," Ginny untucked her legs from beneath her and stretched out on the couch, dangling her feet over one armrest. "I heard… I heard Mum and Dad talking about him over Easter. Remember, I went home for a few days?"

Hermione nodded. "But how did they know? Professor Dumbledore told us no one save Professors McGonagall and Lupin knew he'd survived."

"Dumbledore was the one who told them, I expect," Ginny said unconcernedly. "Anyway, I didn't tell anyone, and like I said, I only found out he was alive, not that he was here. It's good to know he's still with us – on our side, I mean – after what some of the Order's been saying."

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned. "And how do you know all this?"

"I have ears, remember?" the younger girl said waspishly. "Not to mention extendable ones. They guard the Order meetings well enough against those now, but Mum and Dad were talking at home, and over Easter a few members of the Order came to our house for dinner, too."

"And what were they saying?" Hermione prompted again.

"Well, Dumbledore wants it to be a secret that he's alive, right?" Hermione nodded, and Ginny continued, "He won't tell the rest of the Order any more than 'Snape is no longer a spy for us'. Everyone is speculating – either he's dead and Dumbledore doesn't want to make it public news, or he's turned traitor and gone back to Voldemort for good and Dumbledore is too proud to admit he was wrong."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Calm down," Ginny said. "Not everyone thinks like that… but everyone is uneasy about what's happened to him."

"That doesn't make sense," Hermione murmured. "Who do they think is making the Wolfsbane Lupin has been distributing? Has Dumbledore procured another Master of Potions?"

Realising belatedly the Order may not even know of Lupin's plight, she clapped her hands over her mouth, wide-eyed.

"It's all right. We all know about that," Ginny reassured her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "From what I've heard, Dumbledore told the Order he's had people working on the potion from Snape's notes, and that you'd been working with him before and could continue a lot of what he'd been doing."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione muttered. "I'm a seventh-year, not a Master! And they actually believe him?"

"I guess so." Ginny shrugged.

After a moment of silence, Ginny went on, "So, what really happened to Snape?"

"I thought you said you knew?"

"I knew he was alive," Ginny corrected her, "but not where… or why you were with him in the middle of the night. Are you still helping him with the Wolfsbane and stuff?"

"Uh, yeah," Hermione said slowly, feeling a dull blush creep up her cheeks as it did whenever she spoke of Severus to another person. She'd have to work on controlling that. "I, uh… it's complicated. Perhaps I should start at the beginning?"

Ginny nodded encouragingly, but again Hermione hesitated.

"It's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Sure," the red-haired girl said, eyeing her friend with a strange expression. "It sounds… interesting."

Standing up and moving from the floor where she had been sitting with her notes spread out on the coffee table, Hermione took the couch opposite the one occupied by Ginny, curling her feet up beneath her.

She told Ginny almost everything, from the first night she stumbled across Severus returning from Voldemort, Dumbledore's interference and them working together, to the cautious friendship that had been cemented at Christmas when he saved her and her parents' lives.

Hermione stopped momentarily, coming back to the present to tell Ginny how much Severus wished he could have saved her family, too. The younger girl smiled sadly, and simply said, "It wasn't to be."

Continuing on, Hermione was rather too lost in reminiscing to notice the slight furrow of Ginny's brow and the thoughtful expression on her face.

She described Severus' discovery by Voldemort, and the awful week following when no one had known whether he would live or die. She told Ginny of the changed circumstances after his recovery, how frustrated he was at his confinement and how much time she spent with him, trying to occupy his restless mind.

Hermione stopped again, though, unable to describe the events surrounding her attack in the dungeons. This time, during the silence, Ginny leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and asked quietly, "How long have you been in love with him?"

Open-mouthed, Hermione stared at the younger girl, again wondering how transparent her feelings were.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not normally." Ginny shook her head. "But the way you've spoken of him tonight… yes. How long?"

"I don't- I don't rightly know," Hermione admitted. "Christmas, I think, was the first time I acknowledged it. Before that… I couldn't say. I've always respected him for the work he does for Dumbledore, even with his abhorrent temper in class."

"I always wondered if that was an act," Ginny mused.

"It isn't, really," she said. "Well, part of it is, I suppose, because he thinks it's easier to hold himself apart from others… but it's also that he doesn't have the patience for students who don't appreciate what he's trying to teach them."

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I suppose that's true, really," she said, frowning slightly. "He's never really been horrid to me because I've kept my head down and got on with my work."

"Exactly. He still has his moments, of course; his temper is part of who he is, and God knows he has plenty of things to be frustrated about. But he's not… he's not cruel without cause," Hermione finally said, unable to think of how else to describe it. She had been about to say 'he's never turned his anger on me', but that wasn't strictly true… The night of their argument about the moonfilly – the night of her attack in the dungeons – he had hurt her, but as she had said, not without provocation. And she had hurt him, too.

"So, you love him… does he love you?" Ginny asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Hermione blushed and looked down at her clasped hands as she nodded, consequently missing the sudden grin on Ginny's face.

"That's so good, Hermione."

Hermione looked up again, surprised by the delighted smile on her friend's face. It was the first remotely happy expression she had seen on the young redhead since before Beltane Eve.

"Hang on." She narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to detect any hint of sarcasm in the other girl's tone. "Shouldn't you be protesting like your brother and Harry did when they found out?" She mimicked Ron's spluttered disgust. "But… but… it's Snape. The greasy, ugly git we all hate!"

"Oh, honestly," Ginny scoffed, rolling her eyes. "They just don't want to believe you see something in someone they hate. They can't comprehend it. I'll admit, if you'd just come out and told me, I probably would have thought you'd gone mad… but after what you've just said, it makes sense." Ginny paused and smiled mischievously. "And besides, we all know no boy our age could ever satisfy you… intellectually, I mean."

Hermione was already blushing before Ginny amended the sentence, and the perceptive Weasley raised her eyebrows.

"Or otherwise…?"

Hermione hadn't been able to deny the extent of her relationship with Severus to Harry and Ron, and nor could she lie convincingly to Ginny. There was actually some sense of relief at Ginny's acceptance… it would be good to be able to talk about things with another girl… things Harry and Ron would never willingly sit and listen to. Ginny wasn't experienced in that way, as far as Hermione knew, but she had a better instinct when it came to the opposite sex than Hermione ever had.

The youngest Weasley was never without a partner at the school balls – not for a single dance.

"You haven't! When?" Ginny was leaning forward so far that she was in danger of falling off the couch. Now she had discovered the truth, it seemed to Hermione she wasn't going to settle for less than the details.

"Last week."

"Here? In the castle?" Ginny looked surprised.

"Well, Severus can't go anywhere else. He's not supposed to leave his rooms, by Dumbledore's decree."

"Wow." The younger girl blew out a breath. "Does anyone else know?"

"Aside from Harry and Ron, no," Hermione said. "Although I think Dumbledore had an idea."

"And he approves?"

"Well, he more or less gave us his consent a while ago."

Ginny's eyebrows almost shot up into her hairline as she stared incredulously at Hermione.

"Dumbledore – the Headmaster – said it's okay for you to sleep with a teacher?"

"He isn't a teacher," Hermione said sharply, then took a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Look, Severus kissed me while I was still his student – before he was discovered – and he went to Dumbledore straight away, realising it could get us both in trouble. The Headmaster said as long as I had approved at the time, and it didn't happen again while the student-teacher relationship existed, he wouldn't report it. But then, after Severus' discovery, things changed."

Ginny sat back again, shaking her head and letting out a sudden laugh.

"Now I know why I never see you anymore!"

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, but she laughed, too. It was heartening to see the red-haired girl laugh again – after the past week, Hermione had doubted she would ever see such an expression of joy on her friend's face for a long time indeed.

"It's wonderful to see you laugh," she said quietly after they had gotten over their mirth. "Even if it is at my expense."

Ginny smiled again, a little sadly this time.

"It's wonderful to see someone so happy," she countered. "We all need some happiness, and I'm glad at least one of us has found it."

Hermione smiled, too, though she couldn't help but feel guilty at the wistful tone in her friend's voice.


Although to someone on the outside, life might have appeared to go on as normal at Hogwarts after Beltane Eve, there was very little sense of normalcy for Hermione and her friends.

Even for the rest of the students, there was a lingering sense of oppression in the castle, as though something unseen and yet fearful was bearing down on them all, drawing ever closer as the days went by.

That feeling of approaching doom increased a hundredfold for anyone who, like Hermione, had an inkling of what might transpire in the coming weeks.

In the darkness of the night, when sleep was a long way off and thoughts came unbidden, she often found herself overcome with such a strong sense of panic that it became hard to breathe.

The week following the Weasleys' funeral brought into focus for Hermione the stark realisation that they were all deeply involved in the war now. She had known it for some time, but perhaps the events surrounding Beltane Eve served to remind her how close to home Voldemort could hit and how, until the Order made a move, they were powerless to stop him.

In daylight hours, she was as calm and rational as ever, and although she tried to tell herself her nightly fears were pointless, in the end it was only Severus' presence that could ward off the panic. The nights she didn't intend on staying with Severus often saw her sneaking in through the Floo in the early hours of the morning. She didn't realise until the fourth night of doing so that he was awake every time she arrived.

It wasn't the half-aware wakefulness of someone having been roused from slumber by the sound of the Floo, either. She wondered whether he was experiencing similar worries of the approaching events, but brushed that thought aside; he had been living in the midst of a war for more than half of his life.

With her consent, Dumbledore had taken her out of revision classes completely and, to her surprise, done the same with Malfoy. No one questioned the decision – they were two of the brightest students in their year, whose time was better spent on whatever 'special project' the Headmaster had set aside for them.

Harry and Ron were excused from most of their classes, too, and no one questioned their absence after what had happened.

Unlike the others, Ginny had returned to her studies the week following her parents' and brothers' funeral, and she seemed to be coping well enough, all things considered. She was determined to complete her schooling to honour the memory of her parents, who had sacrificed so much to put all their children through Hogwarts.

Congruent with the wizarding world's overall reaction to the events of Beltane Eve, the Daily Prophet spent a good deal of space speculating on what would happen next. While first proclaiming that revenge must be swift and sure, when a week and a half went by with no retaliation or news of capturing those responsible, the paper fell into the more morose mood now shared by the general public. The cloud of anger over what had happened had lifted, and the number of cries to meet violence with violence diminished as people turned instead to rebuilding what had been lost and supporting those who had suffered.

The Minister for Magic, still relatively inexperienced after succeeding Cornelius Fudge only a year ago, had done a commendable job of keeping the general population calm and informed. In the days following Beltane Eve, he had visited the ruined town and vowed to allocate as many resources as necessary to rebuild it. He also visited the school, speaking with the Headmaster and offering his condolences to the Weasleys and other whose close relatives had fallen victim in the attack.

Hermione learnt from Severus that the Minister had also offered any assistance the Headmaster needed to bring about the downfall of Voldemort. He had accepted the truth of popular opinion, that it was Dumbledore and Harry, not the Ministry, who had the power and ability to complete the task.

Even so, the Headmaster had politely refused any Ministry assistance at the time. The Minister himself may be above suspicion – though who really knew whether his motives were genuine – but there were others in the Ministry of Magic who were not. Though Dumbledore had assured the Minister his plans were tentative at this stage, he would not risk anyone gaining an inkling of what they proposed to do.

In truth, though, no plan had yet been forthcoming. It had already been established that Harry's wand would not work against its brother, and yet it had to be Harry who cast the final curse. How he was to manage that, though, was eluding all of them for now.

The Minister hadn't necessarily been happy with being kept completely in the dark, but unlike his predecessor might have done, he accepted Dumbledore's decision. Publicly, he announced that those who had brought such suffering upon the wizarding world would be brought to justice, but that it would take time and resources to ensure everyone involved was held responsible for their crimes.

Combined with his pledge to rebuild Hogsmeade and, to the best of the Ministry's ability, prevent such an attack from happening again, it seemed to satisfy the general population… or at least give them something to look towards and work for.

The day after the conversation with Ginny, Hermione joined Harry and Ron in accepting an invitation to the Headmaster's office for an afternoon discussion. They met Professor Lupin at the bottom of the stone staircase, the Defence teacher talking animatedly with Harry on the way up; when they reached the office, Hermione was surprised to see Severus and Malfoy already there with the Headmaster.

They were sitting in a rough circle of armchairs which Dumbledore appeared to have Conjured for the occasion, and the Headmaster gestured for the others to join them.

Hermione took the seat next to Severus, giving him a small smile as she sat down, and though his face remained passive, his eyes glimmered for a moment. There was something different about him, she thought, and only realised a few minutes later that he was wearing robes over his usual shirt and trousers. She'd seen him wearing robes in the classroom for six and a half years, but after three months without them, he looked like a different person.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy for a moment and took the seat directly opposite, as far away as possible in the small circle. He may have accepted the Slytherin was on their side, but even after the considerate gesture of Malfoy waiting for them after the Weasleys' funeral, Harry still didn't fully trust his motives.

Lupin sat next to Harry, leaving two chairs empty, between Harry and the Headmaster, and Lupin and Hermione. With an apologetic glance, Ron took the one next to Harry. A few moments later, McGonagall arrived and sat on the other side of Hermione.

"Thank you all for coming," the Headmaster began. "I'm sure there are no illusions as to why we are all here."

No one spoke, and Dumbledore clasped his hands in his lap and leant back in his chair.

"We need to start making preparations," he said at length. "I have hesitated until now and it has cost us, though I will justify my actions by saying I could not see a way for Voldemort to be defeated before now. The Order is naturally making preparations of their own, but I find it only fair that you all be included in an ultimate decision, as so much of the outcome rests on those of us in this room. The next time Harry meets with Voldemort, I strongly believe it will be the last. We need to have a clear idea of how we intend to defeat him, for if we do not succeed this time…"

The Headmaster trailed off, but it was clear to all present what would happen if Harry failed. There was silence for a moment, and then Harry, taking a deep breath, was the first to speak.

"So, how do we do it, then? Or how do I do it?"

"That," the Headmaster said carefully, "I do not yet know."

All the inhabitants of the circle seemed to wilt a little at Dumbledore's words, a collective slouch of defeat.

"There are certain things we can eliminate," McGonagall spoke up after a short pause. Hermione could hear the forced reassurance in her voice. "We know Mr Potter is the only one who has come close to defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the past, and we know from the prophecy that he is the only one who can. We also know that it cannot be done with a wand, since theirs will not work against one another."

"Can Potter just get another wand and finish him off?"

This time it was Malfoy who had spoken.

"I have considered that possibility," the Headmaster said. "The hatred required to cast the Killing Curse successfully will not be a problem-" Harry nodded vigorously, "-however changing wands at such a crucial stage of one's life is risky. One does not ordinarily do so unless it is broken or no longer compatible with one's magic."

"In any case," Hermione added thoughtfully, and all eyes in the room turned to her. "There must be some significance in their wands being brothers. It's saved Harry before."

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement.

"What if Voldemort's got another wand?" Ron asked. "He must have realised he couldn't duel with Harry. What if he's replaced it?"

"He still had it at the Department of Mysteries, if I recall correctly," Lupin said, rubbing his chin with a contemplative expression on his face. "If he has switched wands, though, it may make it easier for us."

"Easier?" Hermione had been about to agree with the Defence teacher when Severus spoke, derision clear in his tone. "Think about it, Lupin. A new wand doesn't only mean Potter will be able to duel with Voldemort; it will also give him the chance to finish Potter off."

"I can still use my wand against him, though," Harry pointed out. "The problem was when we both cast spells at the same time and they met. If I can get one off first, or get his wand away from him..."

"Easier said than done, Potter," Severus warned. "It's not another seventeen-year-old schoolboy you're talking of duelling with here."

Harry opened his mouth to retort angrily, but the Headmaster spoke up, quickly redirecting the conversation.

"There are also the Death Eaters to consider," the old wizard said, shooting placating glances at both Severus and Harry, who were glaring at one another. "It is highly unlikely we will be able to lure Tom away from his followers, and while Harry is the only one who can kill him, the same does not work in reverse. Harry will be at risk from Tom and the others alike."

"That makes me feel better," Harry snorted, rising from his chair and leaving the circle to pace about the room.

"The Order will be there, though, won't we, Albus?" McGonagall challenged. "We will be dealing with the Death Eaters so Mr Potter can focus on the main objective."

"Ideally, that will be the case," Dumbledore said. "However we still must return to how Harry is to defeat Tom completely. I fear even if a curse from his wand were to hit its mark, a simple Killing Curse will not be enough."

"Maybe there's something else I can use," Harry said. He had walked halfway around the outer wall of Dumbledore's office, and was standing before a row of shelves filled with strange artefacts.

Reaching out for one, he turned back to the rest of them and held it up. In a flash of recognition, Hermione saw it was a dagger.

"Is this…?" Harry looked questioningly from the Headmaster to Severus, who tensed slightly and then shook his head.

"No."

"It is very similar to the blade Tom used in his attempt to kill Severus," the Headmaster said quietly. Hermione saw Malfoy's eyes widen as he looked from the length of the blade to Severus.

"Can we use this one against him?" Harry persisted. "Surely even he couldn't survive if the wrong person drew it out of him?"

"No," the Headmaster agreed. "However, the problem there lies in getting close enough to inflict the wound."

"It would be near impossible," Lupin put in. Seeming to read Harry's thoughts, he added, "Even with James' cloak. You'll likely still be in the middle of a battle. The cloak doesn't deflect hexes, and it would only take one hit to give you away."

Harry sighed, fingering the blade of the dagger for a moment before he set it back on its stand and rejoined the circle of chairs.

After a minute of thought, the Headmaster spoke again. "I believe, in the end, the best thing we can do is invite a confrontation, making it appear as though you alone are challenging him, Harry. Your apparent boldness will confuse him, his confidence at the thought of facing you alone will increase, and only when it is too late will he realise he is surrounded. Even if his Death Eaters are with him, I am confident the Order will be able to deal with them."

"That's all very well, Albus," Severus said, "but the problem that remains is how to lure Voldemort to wherever you plan for this to take place. His confidence in his own ability has been his downfall in the past, but he is anything but blind enough to be drawn into a trap."

The Headmaster eyed Severus before his gaze drifted to Harry, a thinking look on his face.

"I think," he said at length, "that is something we need to carefully consider. I am confident an opportunity will present itself in good time."

"What part are the rest of us to play in this?" Malfoy asked. "You can't have us all up here just to discuss what Potter is going to do."

"You sound like you can't wait to get out there," Ron said scornfully. "Looking forward to facing off with your father, are you?"

Hermione's soft gasp went unheard as Professor McGonagall exclaimed, "Mr Weasley!"

Two pink spots appeared on Malfoy's pale cheeks, but his move to stand was stopped by Severus, who placed an arm across in front of the Slytherin to keep him in his chair.

"That was thoroughly uncalled for, Mr Weasley," Severus said in a low, angry voice. "We are here because Albus believes we all have something to contribute to this discussion. Perhaps he was mistaken in including you."

Ron glared at Severus, but he had the good sense not to respond to the older man's jibe.

"I wasn't just talking about myself, actually," Malfoy said quietly as Severus lowered his arm. "We're all going to be involved in some way, aren't we?"

"As much as it pains me to put so many young lives in harm's way," the Headmaster said, "I fear I could not convince any of you to stand aside."

There was a collective murmur of agreement from all of them, but as the conversation moved on to other, more trivial things, Hermione sat quietly and gazed around at the other people in the room.

Lupin was sitting quietly across from her, his eyes moving between Harry and Dumbledore as they spoke. He looked tired and drawn, and Hermione knew he, too, had taken the Weasleys' deaths hard. Mr and Mrs Weasley had always been supportive of him, despite what he was.

Harry looked tired, as did they all, but he also seemed happy that progress was finally being made and they were working towards a solution. Ron appearing to be listening to the others speak, too, but Hermione saw him glance towards Draco and Severus, his eyes narrowing slightly as he did. He caught Hermione looking at him, then, and he looked away, fixing his gaze on his lap.

Turning to look at Severus, she saw he was staring across the room, lost in thought. After a few minutes, she reached out and lightly touched his hand where it sat on the armrest. He snapped out of his reverie and his eyes turned to her.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

"Just thinking," he said, moving his hand away from her and folding his arms.

She stared at him for a moment longer and then looked away; both Ron and Harry were watching her as the Headmaster, McGonagall and Lupin spoke amongst themselves, but she simply raised her eyebrows and turned her gaze elsewhere.

The meeting concluded a short time later, though no further decisions were reached. Harry, Ron and Hermione had plenty to consider as they made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Severus and Malfoy had remained seated when they left, and Hermione's questioning glance at Severus was met only by a short shake of his head.

She resolved to speak with him later that night.


After eating dinner with Albus and Draco in the Headmaster's office, Snape returned to his quarters and set about brewing a base potion used for some of the more complex medicinal potions. It didn't require a lot of concentration beyond keeping the rate of stirring even, and that was something he could almost do in his sleep. It was a good thing, too, since his mind was far from the task at hand.

Gathered in Albus' office today with the other teachers, Draco, Hermione and her friends, the Headmaster's words had unsettled him more than he cared to admit. I fear I could not convince any of you to stand aside, he had said. Severus knew it was the truth; he had found himself dwelling often during the past week how dangerous the coming events were going to be… not for himself, but for Hermione.

He had never held any illusions for his safety come the end of the war, but now there was someone else to worry about; the possibility of Hermione being hurt… or worse… when it came to the final confrontation with Voldemort was very real, and the thought of losing her frightened him in a way he hadn't been scared for a very long time.

The sombre thoughts kept him awake in the darkness of the night, and when he finally did manage to sleep, it was a restless slumber filled with old dreams the current events were forcing his unconscious mind to recall.

Hermione had woken him one night, her eyes wide and frightened in the darkness as she shook him awake from a particularly vivid dream. He had brushed it off, saying he couldn't remember what it had been about and hiding his shaking hands underneath the bedclothes. From the look she had given him, though, he knew she knew it hadn't been a random occurrence.

After that, he feared something he called out in his sleep would give away the horror of his dreams, and she would demand an explanation for him crying out her name as he awoke. It wasn't something he felt able to explain. When she wasn't with him, he often stayed up all night, tidying the lab, reorganising shelves unnecessarily only to put them back the way they had been, brewing base potions to be used in the coming days.

Consequently, when she did stay, he was exhausted enough that his sleep was dreamless.

A sound beside Snape startled him, and he realised the object of his thoughts was standing there watching him.

"You were miles away," she said, a concerned expression on her face. She reached out and touched the hand resting on the bench beside the cauldron. "Are you all right?"

"Just thinking."

She smiled, though her eyes still watched him carefully.

"That's what you said earlier. There's something on your mind, I can tell."

"There's always something on my mind, Hermione," he said, turning his attention back to the cauldron and pulling his hand away. "Right now, it happens to be how many stirs this has left before I can bottle it."

She sighed and stepped away from him, moving across the lab to where her own cauldron was set up from earlier that morning. Admitting to her how worried he was would only worry her, and now was most definitely not the time to seem pessimistic about what was to come. He should have known better than to think she would let it go so easily. By the time he had bottled the potion, she had packed up her work area and followed him out into the sitting room.

Instead of joining him on the couch as she usually did, Hermione sat on the coffee table, her knees between his, and fixed him with an appraising stare.

"You look tired," she stated.

"Aren't we all?" He shifted, uncomfortable with her scrutiny, and feigned interest in a scratch on the back of his hand. He hadn't noticed it before, but guessed it was from the porcupine quills he had been handling earlier that day.

"Severus."

Her hands resting on his thighs as she leant forward drew his attention back to her brown eyes, which were fixed on him unwaveringly.

"I think I know you well enough to know something's wrong," she said quietly. "Is it anything I can help with?"

He shook his head.

"Anything I can listen to, even if I can't help?"

He had to admire her persistence.

"You've got enough to worry about without me adding to your troubles," he said. "Besides, it's nothing in particular."

She held his gaze silently, and he could feel the warmth of her hands through the fabric of his trousers. Eventually, he sighed, rested his hands atop hers and conceded.

"I've been involved in this war for a long time, Hermione," he began. "For the most part, it's been a very… subtle conflict. I suppose that's the best word to describe it. Attacks like Hogsmeade, like the Burrow, like Godric's Hollow the night the Potters were killed… they have been few and far between, considering the war has been going for twenty years, on and off. This week, discussing how it is finally going to end… it's surreal to even think that it might be over."

She nodded understandingly. "It will be strange, I would imagine… but a welcome change."

"Of course." He nodded. "Believe me, I want nothing more than this all to be over, Hermione… but I think sitting in Albus' office this afternoon, discussing how it will come to be over..." He broke off and pulled one hand away from hers to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's not going to be easy, Hermione."

"I know that," she said, gripping his other hand more tightly in case he tried to pull it away. "And I know it's going to be just as hard on you as on the rest of us, more so, perhaps, than any of us save Harry. If you're still worried about what Professor Dumbledore is going to ask of you, I would-"

Hermione stopped speaking as he let out a huff of bitter laughter, and she stared at him, confusion on her face.

"You actually think I'm worried for myself?" he scorned. "I thought you said you knew me."

He sobered quickly at her hurt look and closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, she was still watching him.

"Don't you see, Hermione?" he implored, finally allowing the concern he felt to show on his face. "I'm worried for you."

"Me?" She blinked, looking startled, and somehow it hurt to think she was surprised to hear he cared. "You're worried for me?"

"How could I not be?" he said simply. "Whatever happens, I know you'll be with Potter, standing right beside him when things come to an end. Is it wrong of me to worry?"

"No," she conceded, "but I'll be in no more danger than you."

He shook his head in disagreement.

"I'm scared witless for what's going to happen, Severus," she continued, "but all of us will need to play a part if we're to have any chance at success. Sometimes I feel like I want to crawl into a corner and not emerge until this is all over, but I can't. I have to be there for Harry, and I want to be there for you."

"You have been here for me," he assured her, "and for Potter. That doesn't mean you also have to be out there with us. There are many, much safer ways to support us."

Hermione was already shaking her head before he finished speaking.

"Don't ask me to stand aside in this, because I won't. I can't. You understand that, don't you?"

"I do," he said heavily. "I wouldn't hope to dissuade you, and I can't expect you to stand aside when I won't, but…"

She looked at him questioningly, and he took a deep breath. Snape held no illusions about his feelings for her, but they were terribly difficult to put into the right words.

"Hermione, if… if anything goes wrong… if anything happens to you, I…"

He trailed off again and looked away, wondering if he'd been wrong to speak at all. The last week had been hard on her already; perhaps it was wrong of him to seem so pessimistic. He was older, more experienced in the ways of the world – he should be the one reassuring her. It wasn't that he truly doubted they would succeed – but he would be lying if he said he hadn't considered what might happen if they didn't. He looked up as Hermione stood from the edge of the coffee table, but she didn't release his hand as she turned and sat down beside him instead.

Her expression was worried and grateful and frightened all at once.

"We'll be all right," she whispered, tucking one arm around behind his back and leaning into him in an awkward sideways hug.

There wasn't much conviction in her words; she knew as well as he did no one could predict what would happen. Nevertheless, worried as he was, those few words were strangely reassuring.

"I'm sorry," he said at length, leaning down to rest his chin atop her head. "I always tend to think the worst of things."

"I know you do," she murmured. "I just wish you'd have some hope."

He lifted his head and stared down at her wordlessly, but Hermione closed her eyes, oblivious to his surprise at the way she seemed to be able to read him so well.

"I'll try," he finally said.

Hermione let out a soft sigh and burrowed closer into his side.

It was much later when they both got up together and went into the bedroom. Hermione fell asleep quickly, curled up against his side, but Severus lay awake in the darkness for a long time.

He wanted to believe that everything would go the way they planned, but in his experience optimism led to disappointment. In thinking the worst of everything and everyone, at least he had the opportunity to be pleasantly surprised… and the young woman next to him had been most surprising.

As he drifted off to sleep, he resolved to bury his concerns for the moment and try to at least appear optimistic… for her sake. He'd managed to fool people with far greater lies before.


Over the following week, Hermione found herself spending more time with Malfoy than she did her other friends. Severus was working on Wolfsbane potions again, but he also couldn't afford not to be spending as much time as possible working with Malfoy, giving the young Slytherin as much information as possible about his own time in Voldemort's ranks.

Hermione was in the lab with them, preparing ingredients for the brews Severus was making. She mostly sat silently while Severus and Malfoy talked; she was gratified neither of them objected to her being there, or held anything back because of her presence. Listening to them speak and watching them interact, Hermione marvelled at the easy camaraderie between the two men. After Malfoy had first discovered Severus was still alive, she had doubted whether he would ever trust his former Head of House again. He did, though. Insults passed between them good-naturedly, but when they spoke of serious matters it was clear the younger man valued Severus' opinion and realised the gravity of the situation they all found themselves in.

In a decision which took them all completely by surprise, the Headmaster took Malfoy with him to an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place on Wednesday night, revealing his loyalties to the group. From the Head Boy's later account, there had been much arguing, trying to convince the Dumbledore he had made a terrible mistake, but the old wizard would not be dissuaded. Calling for silence, he had explained the Vow binding Malfoy to his service, and then beckoned for the young man to step forward and say something for himself.

"That," Malfoy said, recounting it much later that night to Severus and Hermione, "was the most terrifying thing I've ever had to do."

Mad-Eye Moody, he said, had glared at him with utmost contempt as he had managed precious few words beyond, "I only want to do what is right." Most other members of the group, though, however grudgingly, seemed to accept their leader's decision.

On Thursday afternoon, Hermione and Malfoy both ended up in the lab while Severus was speaking with the Headmaster. A number of times, Hermione glanced up from her cauldron to see the blonde watching her. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but every time she thought he might, the silence continued.

Finally, she prompted him.

"If you want to say something, Malfoy, stop staring at me and get on with it."

He frowned, then sighed and set his stirring rod aside.

"Look," he said, "I didn't want to say anything to Severus… but don't you wonder what Dumbledore's playing at with him?"

Hermione set down her own stirrer and folded her arms, coming around her workbench to stand closer to him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he had no problem telling the Order about me, but after all this time he still hasn't told them Severus is alive. Don't you wonder why?"

"Dumbledore keeps saying he'll tell them when the time is right," she said, a trace of uneasiness creeping into her mind. Many things had changed since the Headmaster had thought to use Severus as a distraction for Voldemort… surely there were other ways now?

"That's what Severus said," Malfoy sighed. "Somehow I don't think he quite believes it, though. I don't blame him. It's almost like Dumbledore wants the Order to think Severus has betrayed them."

Hermione stared at the Slytherin, her conversation with Ginny the previous week coming back to her. The youngest Weasley had mentioned the Order speculating as to what had truly happened when the Potions master suddenly vanished and the Headmaster wouldn't speak of him.

"Professor Dumbledore will have to tell them all the truth before… before the end," she said, shaking her head.

"He better," Malfoy said darkly, "or Severus will be taking curses from both sides."

That unsettling thought stayed with Hermione, and though she didn't mention it to Severus, she couldn't help but wish they would think of a way to defeat Voldemort soon… a way which didn't involve Severus being too close to him.


Hermione was surprised and pleased that Harry and Ron seemed to be making an effort to at least be civil to Severus and Malfoy during the next few meetings. She noticed Ron sometimes watching her contemplatively when she spoke to Severus, or when she arrived or left with him. It was almost as though he was waiting for her to do something to publicly confirm their relationship. She didn't, though, and not because she knew he was watching. Even in front of the Headmaster or Malfoy, who had seen more of them together than anyone, she never made a show of her feelings. It wasn't something Severus would ever do, either… what happened between them remained solely between them.

The same group gathered in Dumbledore's office on Friday night, save for Professor McGonagall, who was supervising the detentions of some younger students, and Malfoy, who was patrolling the castle to preserve some sense of normality in his weekly routine.

"I've got an idea," Harry said quietly when they were all seated in the same rough circle.

Hermione looked at him, surprised. He hadn't mentioned anything to her earlier that day, but she saw Ron looked equally surprised, and concluded this was the first any of them had heard of it.

"You all know I went to Godric's Hollow for the first time last year," Harry began. "On Halloween night, the anniversary of… well, you all know that, too."

The Headmaster nodded encouragingly, Professor Lupin was staring down at his lap, and Hermione looked sideways at Severus to see his face carefully schooled in an expression she knew belied what he was truly thinking.

Hermione remembered the night last year all too well. She and Ron had returned to Gryffindor Tower after the Halloween feast to find Harry gone and a note simply saying, 'I have to do something for myself. Don't worry. I'll be back tomorrow.'

He had returned the following morning, too. Seeing him toiling up the path from the main gates at first light, Hermione hadn't known whether to hug him or hit him. They had only found out later that day where he'd been, that the Headmaster had disclosed the location to him over the summer holidays, and that he hadn't had the courage to visit until that night.

"I never thought of it back then," Harry continued, drawing Hermione back to the present, "but it was a stupid thing to do on my part."

Severus snorted softly, and Harry pointedly ignored it.

"If Voldemort had found out I was there, it would have been the perfect opportunity for him to finish me off - murder me on the graves of my parents, on the anniversary of their deaths."

"We should be thankful he wasn't aware of it, then," Hermione said.

"Not that time," Harry said, eyeing them all keenly. "Did you know it would have been my Mum's birthday next month?"

Hermione realised what her friend was alluding to at the same moment the others did.

"You mean to return there and lure him to follow… trick him into thinking you'll be alone," Professor Lupin stated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Yes," Harry said. "And only when it's too late will he realise I'm not alone at all. Everyone will be there; the whole Order."

"It could work," Hermione murmured, looking at Severus again. He was silent, but she could almost see his mind working, going over the potential of the idea. If he didn't consider it viable, Hermione knew he would have wasted no opportunity in scorning it straight away.

"It is certainly something to consider," Dumbledore said after a long pause. "I am confident Tom would not miss the irony of killing you at Godric's Hollow, nor on the birthday of your mother… Severus, do you think Tom could be provoked to act?"

"I believe so, Albus," Severus said. "If we are able to convince him Potter will be alone, yet have others nearby should the need arise for-"

"Nearby?" Ron spoke up for the first time that evening, annoyance clear in his voice. "Nearby isn't good enough. What if Voldemort brings his Death Eaters or sets up some kind of wards? He could finish Harry off before we can get to him!"

"Now there's a show of faith," Harry muttered, but he seemed uneasy rather than offended.

"You know that's not what I meant," Ron said to Harry, then spoke to the group again. "We need to be right there – not visible, but there all the same. We can't just… leave Harry alone out there."

"He will be far from alone, Mr Weasley," Severus sneered. "But once Voldemort arrives – and make no mistake, he will bring all his Death Eaters to witness the demise of his enemy – you will have far more to worry about than standing beside Potter giving him moral support."

"Moral support?" Ron's voice was louder now, and Hermione could see him becoming angry. "We'd be fighting alongside him, not bloody cheering for him like some Quidditch match!"

"There is the prophecy, Ron," Lupin spoke up in a calm, quiet voice. "Don't forget only Harry can defeat him, and Harry alone."

"I know that." Ron suddenly seemed to let go of the argument. "I just think we need to be out there with Harry in case he needs us. Hermione and I have always been there for him, and he's going to need us more than ever."

Hermione nodded, and she saw a faint smile on Harry's face. Lupin didn't speak, but was watching them all with a contemplative expression.

"I wouldn't imagine you would be anywhere other than beside your friend, Mr Weasley," the Headmaster said, "nor you, Miss Granger. It is a strong bond of friendship indeed that surpasses fear of what is to come."

"An admirable sentiment, Albus," Severus said in a low voice. "But perhaps also foolhardy. You forget that Voldemort takes malicious pride in hitting his enemies where it hurts them the most. In Potter's case, with no family, the thing that would hurt the most would be the loss of his friends. By putting Mr Weasley and Miss Granger at Potter's side, you are handing their lives to Voldemort on a platter. He will not hesitate to kill them, and once he has, Potter will be easy prey."

If Hermione hadn't known his voice so well, she would never have caught the slight catch as he spoke of Voldemort killing them. As it was, no one else noticed, but the silence in the room as Severus' words sunk in was enough that Hermione knew they had struck a chord within everyone.

"Yes," said the Headmaster after a long time, "that is something we must consider. Nonetheless, your loyalty to your friend is commendable, Mr Weasley."

Ron nodded, but frowned in Severus' direction.

"Something else you wish to add, Mr Weasley?" the older man enquired, his eyes narrowing at the redhead.

"Yes, actually," Ron said, raising his chin. "You might as well call her Hermione. We all know what's going on, and frankly, calling her Miss Granger just sounds… well… kinky."

There was a collective intake of breath from the other occupants of the room, and Hermione felt her face flush a brilliant shade of red. Already annoyed, Severus was on his feet in an instant, his wand out and pointing straight at Ron's neck.

The younger man gulped as the tip dug in, far too close to his windpipe for comfort.

"Be thankful she holds you in such high regard, Mr Weasley," Severus snarled angrily, "or I would not so readily tolerate your insult. As it is, your insolence insults her as much as it does me."

"Severus."

Hermione stood and laid a hand on his outstretched arm, coaxing him to lower it. He complied, and Ron breathed a sigh of relief, watching his former teacher warily in case the older man changed his mind.

Severus shoved his wand back up his sleeve.

"I'll leave you to your friends, Hermione," he said, not looking at her as he spun on his heel, stalked to the fireplace and disappeared in a whirl of green.

She stared after him and then turned back to Ron.

"I was only joking," he said weakly, massaging his neck where the wand tip had left a mark.

"Yeah? Well it wasn't funny, Ron," she said tersely. "Not at all."

The Headmaster cleared his throat pointedly, and they both turned to the old wizard.

"I think perhaps we should conclude our business for today," he said. "We have made a good beginning."

Ron lingered by the door leading out and down the spiral staircase, but Hermione glared at him, shook her head and turned to the fireplace to Floo to Severus' quarters.

She wasn't looking forward to this.


The sitting room was predictably empty when she arrived, but the lab door was ajar. Severus was standing at the far end of the room, bottles and jars from the ingredients cabinet spread out on the bench as he sorted and reorganised the shelf.

He didn't acknowledge her entering the room, nor did he look up when she took the stool at the end of the bench. He simply continued opening the jars and bottles, checking their contents and either Scourgifying them or recapping the container and placing it back on the shelf.

"He didn't mean to insult you, you know," she said, when the silence had drawn on too long. "He just didn't think."

"That much is obvious," he muttered under his breath, unstoppering a dubious, grey-looking substance and sniffing the contents gingerly. The contents vanished with a flick of his wand, and he set the empty bottle aside.

"He does have a point, though," she went on, ignoring the deepening frown on his face. "There's no need for you to pretend in front of any of them."

"I know," he said after a moment, though he still didn't look at her. "It was... old habit, I suppose. I address one of those idiots you call friends as 'Mr', so I didn't even think when I spoke of you both at once."

"You could call them by their first names, too, you know," she said, continuing quickly as she saw him open his mouth to protest. "They're not your students anymore, either, and I think Harry, at least, has earned equal address."

"I am quite content addressing them as I do, thank you," he bit out. "When I deem Potter worthy of a less formal address, I assure you, he will know."

She sighed, but then a sly grin found its way onto her face.

"Come on, Severus," she said mischievously. "It's only one word. Look, repeat after me: Har-ry."

He glared at her and she tried to suppress a giggle.

"Your turn," she said, folding her arms. "Har-ry."

"I refuse to participate in such childish behaviour," he said, looking down his nose at her, "and if that is what I must resort to, I believe I shall stick to calling you Miss Granger in public."

He turned back to the shelves again and she turned and crossed the room as if to leave.

"Fine, professor."

She knew that would get a reaction.

He crossed the room and was on her in an instant. In one swift, fluid movement, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall beside the door, pushing his body again her and insinuating one leg between hers.

"You try my patience, Miss Granger," he said silkily, his face inches from her own.

"I try my best," she returned, grasping the back of his head to draw his lips down to meet hers.

His hands came up under the back of her shirt, teasing across her waist and back. Her own hands couldn't find any skin other than his face, though, buttoned up as he was in his repressive robes.

"You've got too many clothes on," she complained, his chuckle vibrating through her as she struggled with the first button at his neck. "You need to teach me that spell."

"Allow me," he murmured.

"Severus, not here!" she exclaimed, thinking he was about to strip her then and there.

He stepped back and arched an eyebrow.

"Really? How disappointing," he sighed. "I suppose I shall have to go back to my work, then."

She grabbed his arm as he turned from her.

"I don't think so, Severus."

A short time later, they were in the bedroom, a puddle of clothes littering the floor around them as they disrobed each other. When she had Severus down to nothing but his trousers, she paused for a moment, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his back, rubbing her palms over the smooth skin.

"What's this for?" he murmured, his own hands caressing her bare shoulders as he pushed her bra straps down.

"I just like to feel you," she responded, resting her head against his chest for a moment. His skin was warm and smooth, but the growing hardness pressing against her through his trousers reminded her there were other, more pleasurable things ahead.

Pulling away, she ran her hands around from his back to the button at his waist, her fingers brushing over the ragged ends of the werewolf scar as they moved.

She fleetingly wondered how many more scars he would bear before the war was finally over, but she pushed the thought aside. Just for tonight, she resolved not to think beyond this room.

The remainder of their clothes disappeared quickly, and she let him lay her back on the bed, covering his body with her own. His lips on her neck and chest were having wonderful effects on other parts of her body, and the feel of heated skin on skin was intoxicating; she hardly realised the voice urging him on was her own.

A rumbling laugh rose from deep within his chest at her pleas, and he drew back to look down at her for a moment, his dark eyes dancing with mirth yet burning with a deeper, more primal emotion; pure desire.

"Please," she said again, her own eyes locked with his in the soft light from the torches on the wall.

She didn't need to ask again.

Their love-making was fast and urgent, such a contrast to the first night they had spent together. Their skin became shiny with perspiration, their legs sliding against each other as they twined together on top of tangled sheets. Severus' hair hung about his face as he moved over her, and she brushed it back, holding it at the nape of his neck so she could see his face as he came.

Afterwards, he rolled over so as not the crush her, pulling her with him. Hermione lay with her body draped over his, listening to his heart thumping beneath her ear. She traced circles with her fingertips on his sweat-slicked chest, blowing puffs of breath across the skin and smiling to herself when he shivered.

For just a few hours, they could forget about all else outside that room, pretend there was no one else in the world… until that illusion came crashing down when they stepped back into reality.


To be continued

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! This one might have been easier to write content-wise, but it still took a lot longer! Mea culpa. Full time work is great for the money, but it's a bitch on update schedules!

Many, many thanks to Potion Mistress, the most patient, dedicated beta one could hope for. Mistakes belong to me, because I edited the chapter after she sent it back.

Also many thanks to anyone who voted for this story in the Multifaceted Awards. It won the Aphrodisia category for Best Adult Het Fic and came Runner-Up in the Intelligence (Drama) category. Needless to say I'm flattered and very happy. :)

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