And this is the penultimate chapter! I hope it is a bit for satisfying for those of you who have been despairing... Enjoy :D

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But the next days brought no opportunities for reconciliation. He couldn't get Hermione alone. Once again, she was ignoring him persistently, barely looking at him, always seated away from him at the head table in the Great Hall and rushing off after every meal. He longed for a chance to speak with her, to have her meet his gaze, but whenever he tried to follow her, she had disappeared. And, still, Lily clung to his side, flirting and touching him whenever she could, despite his unresponsiveness and ever-increasing brush offs.

The rest of the staff seemed oblivious. Minerva went so far as to tell him one morning that she was happy he had found someone and that she wished him joy. He had looked at her sternly and told her that he didn't know what she was talking about, and she had looked taken aback for a moment before looking at him coyly and saying that perhaps she had spoken too soon.

He was nearing the end of his tether when they all sat gathered in the staff room again one evening. Most of the others were sitting together by the fireplace, talking animatedly. Severus was sitting alone in a chair to the side, failing to focus on his book. Hermione was bent over a table in an opposite corner, writing a letter which she had told Minerva was for her parents.

Severus was impatient and his desperation had grown until it could hardly be contained. Desperation to have her finally meet his gaze again, to once more receive that glowing look which had been etched into his mind. And as the days had passed, his doubts had grown again – perhaps he had been mistaken in her apparent jealousy, perhaps he had been wrong about the renewal of her feelings.

But he knew he couldn't go on like this much longer. Before the end of the week was over, he had decided, he would find a way to be alone with her, to tell her how he felt, to bring this torture to an end, one way or another. And if she rejected him again – well. He had lived with heartbreak before. He could do it again.

Sirius and Rosmerta's wedding had come and gone, and Sinistra, Sprout and Minerva were telling Lily all about it excitedly – the gowns, the flowers, the catering – all had been perfection.

'But it all happened so quickly!' Sinistra exclaimed, 'they had barely been together by the time they got engaged, and weeks later they were married!'

'Just as it should be,' Minerva said. 'Personally, I hate a long engagement. And the wedding was so joyous. A lovely reminder that the war is finally over. I know several couples who were engaged throughout the whole war, too often it didn't work out. War-time romance is always doomed, I think, it makes people take too many risks, act too often without thinking. It makes them irrational and places everyone in more danger.'

Severus couldn't help but glance at Hermione at these last words, which hit so close to home. She had been concentrating on her letter for a while, but now her quill was still and her head was up, as if she were listening intently. As Minerva was speaking, Hermione darted a quick look at Severus and their eyes met for a short, exquisite moment.

Severus' name was called and he tore his gaze away from hers. Hagrid was standing alone by the window, not far away from where Hermione was sitting. He gestured to Severus to join him and Severus reluctantly got up to join him as Hagrid poured them each a glass of whiskey.

'It sounds like the wedding was a good 'un,' Hagrid said gruffly, and Severus agreed non-committedly. 'But I can't help but think of our poor Alastor,' Hagrid continued. 'He was always kind to me, he helped protect my animals before the final battle. I don't think he would've moved on so quickly, if Rosmerta had been the one to go. But I guess when the person you love has died, when there's no more hope, it's easier to forget and move on.'

Severus was surprised by Hagrid's unusual loquaciousness and depth of thought, but he remembered that Hagrid's own love, Madame Maxime, had also died in the final battle. Hagrid hadn't seemed the same since.

'Perhaps,' Severus replied, 'that was the case with Rosmerta. I suppose some people do love and forget more quickly than others, are more able to forge new connections, are perhaps more fickle with their love and devotion.' He paused for a moment and thought of Hermione, of how she had left him so long ago, and of how she had returned only to ignore him. It was a painful thought.

Hagrid looked sad, and Severus continued. 'But I don't think it can be general rule, that love fades once hope is gone. Some of us can never forget, never move on. If you have loved someone truly, deeply, if you have felt so connected to them that you felt like you and they have become one and the same, not even a final separation and the loss of all hope of reconciliation can make those feelings go away. Sometimes love, I think, is forged too permanently to ever fade.'

A soft thump distracted Severus for a moment – Hermione had dropped her quill to the floor and bent quickly to recover it. Could she hear their conversation? Surely not, not over the loud chatter of his colleagues. She resumed writing then, her jarred movements suggesting she was writing very quickly. He could see her small, ink-stained hand gripping the quill tightly.

Hagrid was wiping a tear from his cheek when Severus looked back at him. 'I think you are right, Severus,' Hagrid smiled at him through watery eyes. 'I could not forget Maxime so soon. I doubt I ever will.'

'No,' Severus said, compassionately. 'I don't believe you will. But that is a sign of having loved with all your heart. Not everyone is so fortunate to have loved like that, and to have been loved so in return.'

Severus raised his glass to Hagrid, and they drank a sip together. They were silent for a moment. The women were still chatting about the wedding and the difficulties of wartime romances, and Hermione was scratching almost frantically away at her letter, her head bowed down deeply over the table, her hair tied back with an elastic band, allowing Severus to briefly observe the exposed sliver of smooth skin behind her ear. He couldn't help but imagine kissing her there.

When the conversation seemed to lull, Minerva called over to her. 'Hermione, I'm about to go to the owlery, if you're ready with your letter?'

Hermione started and looked up. 'One moment please, Minerva, I'm almost finished,' and she bent back down again and continued writing quickly, the feather of her quill quivering with the force and speed at which she wrote.

Severus felt a deep affection for her in that moment, and a curiosity as to what she could be writing that preoccupied her so. He let himself smile and thought of his conversation with Hagrid. No, his was not a love which could ever fade. Even when he had had no hope, when he had believed more firmly than anything else that his chance for a life with her had been destroyed irrevocably, when he had had nothing but a deep, lonely despair which consumed him ever more day by day, even then he had loved her as fiercely and devotedly as ever. He would never, could never, stop loving her.

He turned back to Hagrid and took a sip of his Whiskey. He noticed Lily looking at him jealously but looked away from her swiftly, avoiding eye contact. 'If you'd like to talk more some time, Hagrid, I'd like that,' Severus said quietly. Perhaps he could make another friend. Hagrid looked pleased and surprised and seemed about to say something when the sound of Hermione's chair scraping the ground interrupted him and drew their attention.

She hastily folded her letter before saying clearly, 'I'm finished with my letter, Minerva, if you'd like to go together now?'

Without so much as a glance towards Severus, Hermione hurried from the room with Minerva in tow. Severus had a moment to feel disappointed. Yet another missed opportunity to finally talk with her, yet another cold instance of her ignoring him.

But then, just as suddenly as she had left, Hermione re-entered the room and walked quickly towards the table she had just left. 'I forgot my quill,' she said to the others before picking it up while bending over the table to hide it from view of the others.

But Severus could see as she revealed a note which had been mostly hidden under an ink well. Hermione raised her eyes to his, and the force of her gaze rooted Severus firmly to the ground. Her deep brown eyes were burning with a fire, a passion, he had feared was long gone. They entreated and enflamed him and he felt their impact in his very bones. Their gaze was locked for a breathless moment – and then she broke the contact and left the room again, leaving Severus bereft.

A nervous anticipation rose in him – Severus could not mistake her meaning. She had left the letter for him.

When he could move again, Severus walked to the table and sank down into the chair she had just vacated. He stared at the letter for a moment. He knew in his core that its contents would decide his fate, would determine whether the remainder of his life would be one of joy or enduring, unbearable, loneliness.

With trembling hands, he picked up the folder letter, his initials 'SS' scrawled inelegantly across the front, as if written in a hurry. He unfolded it and started reading, his heart in his throat, his entire being suspended in desperate anxiety.

Severus, your words pierce my heart. I can't stay silent a moment longer. I am half agony, half hope. Please, don't tell me that I'm too late, that I have lost your precious love for ever. I am yours, if you will still have me, and my heart belongs to you even more now than when you broke it eight and a half years ago. You say that some can love another one moment and forget the next. That their love can fade to nothing – I beg you, don't believe that I am among them. I have loved no one but you. I have been weak, resentful and bitter, but I have never been fickle. You, only you, have brought me to Hogwarts. For you, and only you, I have thought and planned. How have you not seen that? Have you truly not understood my wishes? If I had been able to read your feelings these last days, I wouldn't have waited a second to try and win you back. I can barely write, I cannot help hearing your every word. They electrify me. You're speaking quietly, but I can make out every word of your beautiful voice. You perfect, darling man! You say some love is forged too deeply to ever fade – believe me, then, when I say that my love for you is etched so deeply into my very being that its fading would be my ending. Believe my love to be deeper, more fervent, more yours than ever before.

I have to go now, uncertain of my fate. You hold my heart in your hands. But I will find you as soon as I can. One word from you, one look, will be enough to decide whether I remain here at Hogwarts, or whether I leave it forever.

Yours, with all my soul – Hermione

Severus was undone.