After having to tell Harry about his broken wand, the light shed on Dumbledore's past by Rita Skeeter's awful book and the obvious pain her best friend was in at the thought of his mentor once going against everything they were fighting for, Hermione decided they needed the locket gone sooner, rather than later. They both needed something positive. It didn't help that she would occasionally glance at Harry, remember his fate, then have to fight the pain in her heart and the tears in her eyes for fear of giving something away prematurely.
She warned Severus in the early hours of the morning.
'Please will you bring the sword tomor- later today?'
'Do you not require more time?'
'We need a pick me up.'
'Are you well?'
'Yes, we're okay thank you.'
'Very well, leave your bag open and say where you are. I will come.'
'Shall I use a Summoning charm again?'
'Yes. But try to make it a little less powerful than last time. I wouldn't be wise for me to come hurtling into your camp if Potter is conscious.'
Hermione smiled.
'Was it really that strong?'
'Yes. I don't think a stronger spell has ever been cast on me, and that is saying something.'
'Oh... Sorry.'
'Don't apologise. It felt … pleasant.'
She blushed without really knowing why.
'Oh. Well … good. You have a plan I take it?'
'I believe so.'
'Will … will I see you?'
'We will have to see.' He sent, then added, 'I hope so'
'Me too.' She replied smiling.
They Disapparated away in the early morning, reappearing in yet more woods.
*"Where are we?" Harry asked, peering around as Hermione carefully opened the beaded bag.
"The Forest of Dean," she said, "I came camping here once with my Mum and Dad."*
*"Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood - "
"Do not use that word!"
" - the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"
"Good. Very good!" cried Dumbledore's portrait. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valour - and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him - "
"I know," said Severus curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.*
Severus Snape Apparated to the centre of the Forest of Dean, pulled out his pocket watch, then hesitated.
He was going to see Hermione again.
He squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion flooded over him.
Everything about her, everything he felt about her, was so unfamiliar to him, so unknown. When he'd heard that the three of them had broken into the Ministry, a fear so intense it was crippling had stolen through him, images of her capture, her torture, her death drowning him. And that fear had quickly turned to anger. But of course he understood why they'd gone now. 6 horcruxes – not including Potter. It was a daunting prospect, yet … not as daunting as he'd expected it to seem. He'd been shocked, horrified, yes, but … his trust in Hermione had acted as a buffer. She acted as a buffer. In all things. She was his … safety net. He'd never had anyone in his life he could count on as much as her. Hermione … saved him … with every message, every kindness, she made his miserable life bearable. She helped him to live with himself. A part of him was still terrified of all of this. He knew that if she ever … left him – as she probably would, at some point – his tainted heart would not be able to recover. But … he only needed to survive until the end of the war, perhaps not even that long … the probability of his survival was incredibly low anyway … and he needed her to get through, until that moment. And when he died … well, the world would be better off without him anyway.
She'd said she loved him. Nothing had ever floored him as much as that. It had felt as if the earth had been dropping away from him, piece by piece, until all that was left was her … and her words. He believed her, but he knew himself well enough to know that he was bound to mess this up, sooner or later. She'd been incredibly patient, incredibly understanding, incredibly forgiving, but at some point he'd do something that even she could not excuse, and that would be then end of … everything. But perhaps his death would come before that. In twisted way, he hoped it would, because losing her was sure to be far more painful.
And everything that had transpired between them yesterday was still fresh in his mind. Her Summoning charm had surrounded him where he'd stood, anxious and alone, and it had warmed every inch of him. It had been the perfect embodiment of Hermione; gentle, strong, powerful, fierce and stubborn as hell. He'd let it lift him off his feet, feeling safe and cared for, something gripping his heart like a fist as he'd felt it bring him closer and closer to her. Seeing her, touching her, talking to her after all those months apart … every second had made his chest ache, but it had been … magical. Despite all the bad … the horcruxes, Potter's fate, the discussion of what had become of Hogwarts … it had still been … magnificent. He'd never felt pain at seeing someone else hurting as acutely as he had that night. Hermione sobbing on the floor … it had cut his heart to see her like that. And yet she still ... loved him. How … how could she possibly love him?
He finally gathered himself together enough to send a message to Hermione, asking her to summon him. Her charm came more softly this time, it wafted around him like a warm breeze, still the perfect embodiment of her, and gently guided him forward. He felt so safe in her spell, it seemed to hold him, lead him, care about him, and in a way he could almost imagine it smelled like her; subtle flowers and something along the lines of honey. He closed his eyes, a small smile touching his lips, and let it guide him forwards, sure, for whatever reason, that no harm would come to him.
It took longer than he'd expected for him to scout out the area around their campsite and find a suitable place for the sword. It took him longer still to set everything up, and decide how he could maximise the likelihood of getting to spend time with Hermione. He'd have to watch to make sure Potter didn't drown, and he was doing to make damn certain that it was the boy who braved the icy lake rather than his – rather than Hermione. When everything was finally ready, it seemed a long time before he received any message.
'Harry's just taken the first shift. I'm inside the tent.' She sent.
'Good.' He replied. 'I'll give it a few minutes, then set everything in motion.'
'Okay. Will I see you?'
'I'm not sure, I'll need to ensure Potter's safety, but I will try to come.'
'Thank you. Good luck.'
He wanted to see her so much it felt like his heart had developed a particularly painful toothache. Logic told him it was unlikely he would be able to.
When he eventually felt steady enough to conjure his Patronus, for the first time, he didn't reach for memories of Lily, instead recalling the first time Hermione had made him laugh, proclaiming her dislike of Sirius, he thought of her holding his hand, touching his face, stroking his hair. He thought of her laughter, her fiery temper and quiet compassion. He remembered her telling him she loved him, only a few hours ago.
The doe that burst from his wand was perhaps the brightest he'd ever conjured. But it was different in every way except its form. There was a deep, instinctive knowledge in its eyes, but he only caught a glimpse of this, because it darted around in the air before him, filled with energy and uncoordinated enthusiasm. He could almost imagine it waving its hand in the air. An involuntary chuckle escaped his mouth, and at the sound, the doe turned to him, running to his side and reaching out its nose to nuzzle his neck. All amusement suddenly gone, he reached out a hand to it, and it was instantly butting his hand gently – he could almost feel its warmth – and it walked in a slow circle around him, as if trying to protect him from unknown evils. It stopped at the second lap, and looked at him expectantly, readily waiting for his command. Severus looked into its eyes, and he realised something that shot through him, fast as a bullet, piercing as a dagger.
This doe loved him.
Severus wasn't sure how much later it was that his heart stopped pounding quite so painfully, and he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the glowing entity before him, and send it to where he knew Hermione's camp to be. And sure enough, he could soon hear the unmistakable noises of Potter stomping through the undergrowth. If he hadn't been relieved that his plan had worked so far, he would have rolled his eyes. The boy was so predictable.
He watched the doe lead Potter to the clearing, waiting until the he was in the right position, then cancelling the spell. In all honesty he wasn't quite prepared for just how dark the woods were without the Patronus, and was a little relived in spite of himself when Potter's wand illuminated a small patch of woodland. It was strange to watch Potter alone, to witness his excitement at the sight of the sword, his caution as he scanned the surrounding area, and a tiny part of Severus couldn't help but be slightly impressed when Potter sighed in resignation, and submerged himself into the pools icy depths.
After a few moments, he knew there was something wrong. The boy should have reappeared immediately. He counted to 5 in his head. Still nothing, and it was too dark for him to properly see, and he knew that he must not be discovered... But Potter could not die, not yet, not here… He was on the verge of diving into that bloody water himself when another figure rushed forward, he saw the red hair by the light of the wand on the ground, and sighed in relief. Weasley would not let his friend die. Something warm rushed through him. Now he was free to see Hermione…
'I'm on my way.' He sent, then began running, and soon began flying, anything to get to her faster.
Two arms were waving to him between the trees, and he almost laughed aloud, his feet touching back down on the floor, his arms outstretched and she grabbed him, pulling him into her wards, and into her arms.
"Nice flying." She said quietly, her head pressed to his neck. "I meant to ask you about it last time."
"It … it was a gift from the Dark Lord." He answered honestly. "A reward … for Dumbledore…"
"Oh." She pulled back slightly to look at his face.
"I don't really like using it."
"I can understand that." She replied, staring into his eyes. "But it must be enjoyable, and Merlin knows you've earned something good."
He felt his breathing hitch slightly, her endless acceptance once again flooring him.
"How long do we have Severus?"
"Longer than I thought we'd have." At her questioning look he elaborated. "Potter was just reunited with Weasley. I imagine they have some things they will need to discuss."
"Yes." She agreed, looking shocked. "Ron's back. Wow. Did he seem okay? I wonder how he found us."
"He seemed fine."
"Thank God. How did you get Harry to leave camp?"
"I used my patronus." He felt a slight stab of apprehension. "It's a doe."
"Oh." She drew back from him slightly. "Lily's was a doe?"
He wasn't sure if she was stating a fact or asking a question, but he nodded.
"Right." She said, her voice steady, but as she turned away he saw hurt flash across her delicate face.
"Hermione." He said, moving to stand before her. This wasn't something that was easy to explain. "I … it's … just … watch. Okay?"
He conjured the doe before she had a chance to respond, and he had a chance to lose his nerve.
There it was again, with its big intelligent eyes and infinite compassion. It jumped around the campsite, almost exploring, before it returned to them, leaping around them both.
"She's beautiful." Hermione's voice was stiff, her expression was guarded. She still didn't understand.
"Look at it." He commanded. "Not at the form, look at what its doing, look at its … personality."
She obeyed, turning to watch the creature nuzzle affectionately at his neck, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
"It's you." He said quietly, too afraid of her reaction to make eye contact. "My doe has been serious and graceful for as long as I can remember. Now it's running around like a harridan, being affectionate towards me, and has more intelligence in its eyes than all the Hogwarts students put together. It's you, Hermione."
Suddenly there were hands on his face, pulling his head down with almost brutal force, her lips crashed onto his, her kiss was suffocating, blindingly passionate. He responded in kind, his hands finding her face, and was startled to find wetness on her cheeks, something painful stirring under his sternum at the thought that he might have caused her tears.
"It's so hard not to touch you." She gasped.
"I … I'm sorry." He replied, thinking how he would feel if he was unable to touch her, for the first time.
"No." She whispered. "No, it's okay."
And then they were kissing again, her hands in his hair as she pulled him closer, she shifted against his body, and he felt his cock spring into life so fast he almost felt faint.
"I love you." She said breathlessly against his lips, and everything threatened to break.
He held her close to him, kissing the top of her head, emotions and need rushing over him so fast he was almost shaking from it.
She rubbed her hand against him.
"Please." He said breathlessly, a distant part of his brain embarrassed as he pushed his hips forward. "Please Hermione."
"Yes, of course." She responded, and he almost sagged in relief, all the tension and stress and worry he'd been living through suddenly needing an outlet so much it was a painful, physical need.
Her fingers pushed up his cloak and teaching robes, finding the buttons on his trousers and pushing them down to free his erection as they kissed. He shuddered when he felt her cool fingers against his skin. Hermione's kisses had turned frenzied and hungry, and he was relieved to note that she seemed to need this just as urgently as he did.
She pulled him roughly to the ground, and a schoolboy part of himself he'd long forgotten experienced a rush of giddying excitement at the prospect of being so desperate for sex, and being with someone so desperate for sex, that they'd resorted to surrendering themselves in the open. Of course their location was the logical choice; they'd be far more likely to hear, and perhaps even see Potter and Weasley's return from here. But those two were the last things he wanted to be considering now, so he returned his concentration to the beautiful witch on the floor before him, panting in anticipation. He pulled her pyjama bottoms down, noting absently that she was wearing two pairs, and slipped his hand between her legs as she pulled his head down for another kiss.
He almost groaned when he felt how wet she was, once again, for him. The proof that she – for whatever unfathomable reason – wanted him. She shifted beneath him, pushing her hips towards his in what was an incredibly blunt invitation. Gryffindor. He fumbled for at her entrance for a moment, feeling himself flush in embarrassment, before he finally sunk into her. They both groaned. He wanted to savour this, savour every moment, but his need was too great, and it seemed Hermione's was too, because she began to move, silently encouraging him to do the same and waves of pleasure began to roll over him, each more exquisite than the last.
"Harder." She growled, and he happily complied. This time was rough, frantic, and entirely necessary. They didn't have much time, and if her need was anywhere near as much as his, then hard and fast was perfect.
Hermione moaned, her back arching, and he kissed her neck as he thrust into her, trying to ignore the pressure building, and moving down his spine. She grabbed his hair, and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him brutally, possessively, and he loved it, responding with the same intensity, still struggling to believe how much she seemed to desire him. With each moan, each kiss, each movement, she was pushing him higher and higher, and he didn't know how long he could delay the inevitable.
"Hermione."
She seemed to understand, and guided one of his hands between their bodies, showing him what to do. It was hard to coordinate, and the small part of his brain that could still function properly was worried he was being too rough, but she encouraged him further, shifting underneath him and gripping his arms.
Finally he felt her pulsing around him, she let out a ragged cry, and he could last no longer. They finished together, simultaneously, and he moaned into her neck, his orgasm seeming to go on for an age, before he collapsed, shifting slightly so he didn't crush her completely.
Hermione moved herself closer to him, kissing his cheek and a final pulse of pleasure washed over him. They lay like that for some time, gasping for breath.
"I needed that." She said quietly. "Thank you."
"As did I." He replied softly. "And thank you."
He sat up, righting his clothing, and noting that Hermione was doing the same. Something painful stirred behind his eyes; he would have to leave soon. Severus stayed sitting, hoping – somewhat childishly – that his refusal to stand up would delay the inevitable. She watched him impassively for a moment, then seemed to understand, and all but flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling herself so her weight was on the ground in the middle of his crossed legs. A smile erupted onto his face as he clung to her, touched that anyone – let alone someone like her – could want to treat him so.
After a few minutes, she shifted, turning to one side, moving her hands to her lap and tucking her head under his chin. He clutched her to him tighter, breathing in the smell of her, trying to memorise how this felt.
Then she nuzzled at his neck.
"Don't." He said, pulling away.
"Why?" She answered, frowning at him.
He shrugged, wanting to move on, but her eyes pierced his, and he felt compelled to answer her.
"I don't like it. It's too much – as touching is."
"I wish I could touch you."
Her words were soft, but their meaning weighed heavily on him as he tried to think of what to say.
"Why am I not allowed to?"
Her question disarmed him.
"You know why." He answered.
"You have scars." She said quietly. "But so do lots of people. I've told you they don't change anything, so I don't understand why I can't touch them. And there's nothing wrong with your neck."
He frowned, and she pulled back to look at him, her face earnest.
"I won't touch you Severus, it's okay, I just want to understand why."
"I…" He paused, an unfamiliar pain in his chest, confusion at his heart. "The people who've touched me … there … were the ones' who inflicted those scars… It's just … too much. And what you did then…" He shook his head, feeling himself tense in response to the memory.
"But I still don't understand."
"I just don't like it." He answered, somewhat impatiently, not wishing to dwell on these things when they had so little time together.
She frowned, but didn't say anything else, and settled back into his arms.
He sighed.
"I've never had to justify this to anyone else before, Hermione. Or even to myself for that matter. I'm not entirely convinced that even I know the answer, but I will think about it, okay?"
She nodded, and as he felt her smile at his neck, he began to relax a little.
"No one but you has seen … me. Not properly. This is all very new to me." He confessed.
"I love you." She answered, and he felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. "I just want to understand you better, I feel like I'm only beginning to know you."
He pulled back to look at her face, genuinely bemused.
"You know me better than anyone."
And as he said it, he knew it to be true. His parents had never cared to know the son who had made their hard lives that little bit harder. Lily had been a wonderful friend, until that fateful day, but she had never accepted who he was enough for him to allow her to know all of him. He'd only ever wanted her to see the best of him. Minerva and Poppy had known him since he was a boy, he had enjoyed a friendly rivalry with one, and the other had healed him on many occasions, and was often kind, but it didn't go much beyond that. Dumbledore had gone rifling through his mind like pages in a book as he had tested his loyalty, taught him Occlumency, but there was so little Dumbledore truly understood about him, and what he did had not been freely given. And the Dark Lord … well … from the day he had begun hunting down Lily … he had known only what Severus had wanted him to.
Hermione … she knew him at his worst; she knew him drunk, shaking with rage, she knew him when he was being spiteful and cruel, she knew him as an antagonist, a bully, she even knew him when he was occluding and violent. And she knew him hurt, physically, emotionally, she knew him utterly terrified and utterly vulnerable, she knew him despairing and she knew him in mourning. She also knew him at his best; teaching, brewing, she knew him healing and helping her idiotic friends. She knew him sitting quietly in the snow with her – the solace he'd experienced then had come as a real shock - she knew how to make him laugh, she knew how to comfort him in a way he found acceptable. She knew him naked, in every sense of the word, she knew him in total agony and in total bliss.
Of course there was still and awful lot she didn't know … but…
She just…
"I don't know what I'd do without you." He was so lost in his own thoughts that he wasn't exactly sure if he'd said the words aloud, or if he wanted to have done.
"Severus I feel exactly the same." She whispered.
And then she moved again and her hands were in his hair, her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth. It wasn't an intensely passionate kiss, it wasn't about need or desire, this was entirely about affection. Caring. And for some reason it made a lump form in his throat.
She would be okay without him. He was sure she would grieve when his inevitable death came, and even miss him. But she would have Potter and the Weasleys, perhaps even her own family after the war, and she would move on with her life, and be far better off without him. Without her … he would have no one. Nothing. His pitiful life would be empty, unbearable.
He pulled her even closer, wanting to hold onto her forever, because there would be nothing without her. Of course his death was far more likely than hers, and that, in a way, was a comfort. He'd never been able to stand the thought of burdening someone with his presence, and if by some miracle the Order won, and by an even greater miracle, he survived … there was no way that any association with him would be anything but a nightmare. And Hermione, with her loyalty and kindness and incredible sense of justice would feel she had to stay with him, and try to clear his name. That would make her life hell. No … his death would be preferable for her, perhaps for the both of them.
His mind recalled the memory of the tears leaking down her cheeks when he'd tried to tell her not to bother clearing his name if he died. An uneasy feeling crept into his heart. When Lily had died… But this was different. Hermione would be better off without him, in the long run. That way she would be free to bask in the glory and freedom of being a war hero, as she undoubtedly would become if they won, without him tainting her name, her life.
"I love you Severus."
Something hit at his chest, but he ignored it.
He held her face in his hands, even now feeling a flutter of nervousness in his stomach, and bent forward to kiss her forehead.
"I must go." He said gravely, and tried to ignore the pain lancing him when Hermione's amber eyes brimmed with tears.
"I wish you could stay."
"So do I." He answered honestly, then added, "Aside from all manner of other reasons why I wish to stay, Potter and Weasley's faces if they returned to camp to find you sitting on my lap would undoubtedly be entertaining."
She laughed rather wetly, and Severus smiled; there were very few people who he cared enough about to try to amuse. Hermione was the exception to everything, it seemed.
They stood, walking over to the edge of the wards in silence, and eyeing one another rather grimly as they prepared to say their goodbyes.
"This is so hard." She whispered, and he nodded his agreement, not quite trusting his voice.
She brushed his hair away from his face, running her fingers down behind his ear to his neck and he suppressed a groan; there was something about that gesture that left him helpless.
She kissed his forehead.
"Be safe."
She kissed his nose.
"Be well."
She kissed his lips.
"I love you."
She blushed and flashed him a slightly embarrassed smile, which he returned, feeling almost giddy as he pulled her into his arms for the last time, wondering whether he'd ever get the opportunity to do so again.
"Take care." He whispered against her hair. "Stay safe."
He pulled himself away, ignoring the pain in his chest, and took her face in his hands.
"Thank you." He whispered, and then abruptly released her, as the million reasons he had to be grateful to her swarmed around him. He turned and walked out of her protection, while he still had the strength.
He turned one last time before he left, facing the now invisible camp. He couldn't see her, but he knew she'd be watching, and he brought the image of her watching over him to his minds eye, before he forced himself to think of Hogwarts, and leave her.
For the first time, Hermione didn't cry when he was gone. She stood, staring at the place that had held the most important person in the entire world to her only seconds before. Then she turned, and walked back to the tent, curling herself into a ball under her covers, in the hope that somehow, if she was smaller, the pain would be smaller too.
She didn't remember falling asleep.
*"Hermione!"
She stirred, then sat up quickly, pushing her hair out of her face.
"What's wrong? Harry? Are you all right?"
"It's okay, everything's fine. More than fine, I'm great. There's someone here."
For a moment, she thought blindly of Severus.
"What do you mean? Who -?"*
And then she caught sight of Ron. And everything came back to her. Him leaving, the worry that something had happened to him, the fear in his absence, the loneliness, and how Severus had somehow got her through it.
Severus.
The pain came back to her next, and relief turned to anger, and anger turned to rage.
And rage was good. Rage didn't hurt.
*Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.
"Ouch - ow - gerroff! What the -? Hermione - OW!"
"You - complete - arse - Ronald - Weasley!"
She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head.
"You - crawl - back - here - after - weeks - and - weeks - oh, where's my wand?"
"Protego!"*
The shield spanned out between them, she wasn't entirely sure what happened after, she didn't think she'd ever been angry like this before, she couldn't recall ever being so completely out-of-control. A small part of her brain was aware that this had an awful lot to do with having to be apart from Severus once again, but she found she didn't much care. Feelings need an outlet at times, and this was hers, and in a twisted way, it felt a hell of a lot better than crying.
At some point along the way, her anger began to blow itself out, and logic began clawing its way slowly back into her mind.
It helped listening to the story of the patronus, and how it led Harry to the sword. It was hard to act surprised and curious when she'd been in on the plan, but she managed, and then had to fight a blush when the image of that same patronus bounding around camp came to mind.
'It's you, Hermione.'
As soon as he'd said it, she'd realised it was true, she'd looked past the species, and seen the nature of it. It's form was for Lily, and that was fitting, Severus loved Lily, but it was her. Something so joyous had welled up inside her then; proof that Severus cared for her, and did so deeply. It was a very welcome realisation.
She went to bed as soon as discussions were finished, and sent Severus a message once it was safe to do so.
'I hope you got back okay. Ron destroyed the horcrux.'
'Another one bites the dust.' He sent, and she smiled stupidly at her mirror. 'How was the happy reunion?'
Hermione frowned at his tone.
'I hit Ron continuously until Harry separated us, then screamed at him for at least 10 minutes.'
His next reply came after what felt like a very long time.
'What I would give to have been a witness to that.'
She pictured him smirking at his pocket watch and smiled again in response.
'I was very angry.'
'I can imagine. Are you aware that you hair crackles with magic when you are sufficiently furious?'
Hermione blushed, and rolled her eyes good naturedly.
'It's been mentioned. Now stop trying to wind me up and get some sleep.'
'Must you deprive me of such a small pleasure?'
'Yes.' She grinned. 'Go to bed.'
'Gryffindor.'
'Slytherin.'
'Goodnight Hermione.'
'Goodnight. Miss you.'
'It's been barely 2 hours.'
'And your point is?'
'I was merely making an observation.'
'And what an astute one it was.'
'Don't try sarcasm with me.'
'I wouldn't dare. Bed, Severus. Now.'
'I miss you too.'
'It's barely been 2 hours.'
'You have always had an outstanding knack for impersonating a parrot.'
'And you have always been very talented at impersonating a royal bastard.'
'I am a royal bastard.'
'And I am a parrot. Goodnight Severus.'
'Goodnight. Stay safe.'
'You too.'
Hermione tucked her mirror under her pillow and tried to stifle the smile on her face. But it felt good to be smiling; Ron was back with them, a horcrux had been destroyed, and playful Severus was relatively new, and a joy to witness. There were so many sides to him, and although she knew she had seen far more than most people, there was still so much about him that was a mystery, and so much she wanted to know. Playful Professor Snape seemed like a ridiculous notion, but playful Severus wasn't quite so outlandish, and it was a relief to be able to joke with him, like a friend.
Perhaps one day he would be free to be playful more often, free to be truly himself. She was under no illusions about him; he could be horrible, he was a dangerous man, who led a dangerous life and committed atrocious crimes, but there was so, so much more to him than that … and it was beautiful.
It's almost funny how quickly things can turn into utter anarchy. Things were getting better, her anger at Ron had been dwindling, she'd even started to feel optimistic again now that the three of them were reunited. Going to the Lovegood household had seemed like such a good idea, something deep inside of her telling her that symbol was important, but with Mr Lovegood's ridiculous tale all her confidence vanished. They were once again desperate, and grasping at straws.
And then the Quibbler, with the words "Undesirable Number One" came streaming across the floor in front of her, and everything slowly went cold.
Figures on broomsticks flew round the house, Mr Lovegood dived for his wand, a stunning spell missed her by inches and hit the horn mounted proudly on the wall.
The explosion seemed to rip the house apart.
There was dust and rubble covering her, a searing pain in her side. She found Harry, just as voices floated to her from downstairs.
*"I swear... I swear... Potter's upstairs!"
"Homenum revelio." said a voice at the foot of the stairs. "There's someone up there all right, Selwyn."
"It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!" sobbed Mr Lovegood. "Please ... please ... give me Luna, just let me have Luna..."*
And despite herself, she felt sorry for him. And so she formed a plan. An incredibly reckless, incredibly Gryffindor plan. She knew a certain Slytherin was sure to disapprove.
*"Do you trust me Harry?"
Harry nodded.
"Okay then." She whispered. "Give me the invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on."
"Me? But Harry -"
"Please, Ron! Harry, hold on tight to my hand, Ron grab my shoulder."
Harry held out his left hand. Ron vanished beneath the Cloak. The printing press blocking the stairs was vibrating. Mr Lovegood was trying to shift it using a Hover Charm.
"Hold tight." She whispered. "Hold tight ... any second..."
Mr Lovegood's paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard.
"Obliviate!" She cried, pointing her want first into his face then at the floor beneath them. "Deprimo!"
She blasted a hole in the sitting room floor. They fell like boulders. Hermione glimpsed two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around them from the shattered ceiling. She twisted in mid-air and the thundering of the collapsing house rang in her ears as she dragged the boys once more into darkness.*
Harry's ideas about the Deathly Hallows were worrying, yes the symbol seemed to keep cropping up, but beyond that, nothing made sense A part of her was desperate to believe it; if the Hallows were real, and if Harry's cloak was the one from the story, and Dumbledore had put the Resurrection stone in the Snitch … then all they'd need was the wand … and Harry would be master of death … and perhaps then he wouldn't have to die. But something seized her heart. It just wasn't true. There was no such thing as an unbeatable wand, nothing that could bring the dead back to life … and probably nothing that could save Harry. And they couldn't afford to get side-tracked. She recalled the visceral hatred in Severus's eyes as he'd held the locket. There were still 3 horcruxes to find and destroy. That was their mission.
She tactically took the first watch, and wasn't surprised when her mirror grew warm a few a short while later.
'Hermione Granger please tell me that you were doing more than visiting a school friend.'
'That's exactly what we were doing.' She replied irritably. 'I really am that stupid.'
She had half a mind to ask him about the Hallows, but she just didn't believe it, and it wasn't something that was easy to discuss like this.
'What were you doing then?'
'It's a very long story.'
'Was it worth it?'
'Nope. Not even close.' She paused. 'Were you punished?'
'We were all punished.'
'Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?'
'I'll live.'
'That's not what I asked.' She bit her lip guiltily as she waited for his response.
'The Dark Lord is very angry. It wasn't pleasant, but I'll be fine.'
'Thank God.' She frowned suddenly. 'You didn't tell me they'd taken Luna.'
'I wasn't aware they had. She went home for the holidays.'
'Oh. They must have taken her from the train then.'
'I would imagine so.'
'Is she … will she … how likely is it that she's still alive?'
'If they've taken her to stop her Father publishing in Potter's favour then it is likely she's alive. She wouldn't be as much use dead.'
His words were blunt, but relief coursed through her all the same, and for the first time that day, a couple of tears fell from her eyes. She'd grown quite fond of Luna, as much as the girl and her ridiculous idea irked her at times, there was something very free about the way she saw things, living in a world where anything was possible. The blond haired Ravenclaw was entirely fearless as well; she was completely and unashamedly her own person, not caring that others laughed, or mocked her. That was something that Hermione couldn't help but admire.
'I'm sorry about today.' She sent. 'I really thought we were doing something important, but I was wrong.'
'You are human. Humans make mistakes. Just ensure you learn from this.'
'I know, I will. Thank you.'
'It was not easy to sit there impassively and listen to what happened.'
She felt another stab of guilt.
'I'm sorry. We didn't think it would be like that. We thought Mr Lovegood was on our side.'
'There are no sides once the ones we love are in danger.'
Hermione frowned as she thought about his words.
'There's still right and wrong.'
'Yes Hermione, but it's rarely that simple.'
She agreed, of course, but there was something strange about Severus talking like this.
'If I'm ever in danger, you must do what's right for this war, Severus, not what's right for me.'
There was a pause.
'And if you had to make that choice?'
Tears stung in her eyes.
'Let's hope it never comes down to that.'
'Indeed.'
'Get some rest Severus. I'm sorry you suffered because of us. Take care of yourself.'
'Take care too. Take better care. I need you to be safe.'
'I'll try, I promise.'
'As will I. Goodnight Hermione.'
'Goodnight.'
Chapter 40 :) Thank you to everyone who reviews - it really spurs me on.
*Text in between asterisks* from Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows - J.K Rowling
evel004 - Hi, the private messaging feature on your profile is disabled so I thought I'd respond to your review here, if you want me to delete it just let me know :)
I'm go pleased you like the story so far and think I've kept them both in character, I totally get what you mean about Severus allowing Hermione liberties rather quickly, but I'm glad you understand why I've done it like that - when this story comes to an end I may well go over some of the earlier chapters and make Severus a little more stubborn, we'll see. And as for your requests, well the Hermione and Ron thing has probably been answered by this point - Hermione loves Severus far too much to even think about Ron in that way anymore, and Severus' fate, well you'll just have to wait and see ;) If you really want to know beforehand let me know and I'll message you (if the feature works), but I don't want to ruin the suspense unless you're sure you want to know! I always update as often as I can, but the regularity does vary! Thank you so much for a lovely review, and I really hope you continue to enjoy where this goes :)
Andie x