She woke up in the morning thinking her Sunday was a Monday due to the unknown and overwhelming dread that flooded her; she had absolutely no idea what the time was. The darkness and comfortable warmth temporarily confused her. As she turned her head she could feel an arm beneath the tangles of her curls. Severus, her heart leapt in her throat. Last night had not been a dream or fevered occlumency session; they really had shared themselves with each other… And it had been beautiful…
Severus wished he had the capability of temporary confusion; to wake up solely focused on another's warmth and forget the on-goings of the dark world outside. But his mind was a honed instrument trained to recall every sordid detail. At least he could cherish last night's memories later on, even if they caught in his throat like bittersweet mead.
"You're awake," His vibrato echoed through her head on his ribcage.
"Am I?" she whispered, molding her body against his midsection, afraid that their experiences would dissolve like some dream in the waking light.
He understood her feelings as his palm traced over the crown of her head, "Unfortunately." They both gave a small smile.
"No, I would say I'm rather fortunate."
"Would you?" He drawled.
"Oh yes," she trailed her hand over the sparse hair on his chest, the tight 'V' of his musculature, down the thickness of his thigh, "very."
His deft fingers cupped her chin and brought her into a knowing kiss, "I believe I am the fortunate one."
"Fortune favors the brave; fortune favors the bold. Are you sure you aren't a Gryffindor, Severus?" She teased.
He gave her a withering look. All she could do was laugh at the ridiculousness. Laugh now, she thought, for the tears are coming.
"Hysterical," he wrapped his arms around her midsection, bringing her back into his chest as the two leaned against the headboard.
"What now?" Hermione's heart thrummed.
"Now… I suppose we put on our masks and face the world as it is wont to see us. We play our roles dutifully, and we win this war."
She leaned her head back to examine his strong profile, committing it to memory. She was happy that he was determined to win. But she was just as determined to not let it be at the cost of his life. She was going to show him a better life: The life he so truly deserved. Even if it killed her.
"What are the roles we're playing today?"
"Potter and Albus are the heroes, returning from their valiant effort of destroying a piece of the Dark Lord's soul."
Only a piece? Hermione's stomach flipped. How many pieces were there?
"You are Potter's supportive friend and grieving classmate in today's production," he looked down at her, "as well as my enemy."
She turned to hug him, her lashes on his collarbone. He held her close.
"I, as always, am the murderous Death Eater devoted to his Dark Lord and Master."
She was about to mumble that he was poorly cast, being that it was the opposite of everything he stood for, but he always had played his role to a tee: The essence of a perfect double agent. Her admiration and remorse hummed through her. "What now?"
"Now, I suppose we get dressed."
The house elves brought a small breakfast which they ate in relative silence, enjoying their morning tea and coffee in what could possibly be the last quiet hours of their lives.
"Hermione," Severus placed his half-finished coffee on the table, "there is one matter of serious concern that we should discuss."
Her stomach dropped at his expression. She put down her tea as well. "Yes?"
"Your parents will become a target of the Dark Lord once you go into hiding."
She stood from the table, her chair screeching against the floor as she set to pacing, "No! They're not even magic, they're muggles for Merlin's sake! They aren't a part of this war! What use could they possibly-"
"He will use them to draw you out," Severus gave a pained expression as he reached for her hand. "I have seen this before."
She paused, her eyes as big as the saucers their cups rested upon, "What do we do, Severus?"
"Be calm, Hermione. I have a potion planned, but I need your absolute confirmation to follow through. Certain efforts have been taken that may not require the potion, if you so desire it."
"Such as?" her brow flinched.
"I have acquired a house for them in Australia, under the watchful eye of the Aboriginal Magic Administration. They will be safe there."
She took a breath as her pulse grew slower, "Good," she inhaled, "that sounds good."
"But it may not be enough," Severus stood alongside her. "You are their only child caught up in a foreign war that they do not understand. Hermione, look at me when I say this; do you think your parents would willingly do as you say and leave without you?"
"I…"
"Look at me."
"No!" Her tears flowed freely, not knowing she would have to deal with such compiled loss in one day. "They would do everything they could to ensure I went with them, thinking it was for the best. They would use the muggle law…" She gasped at the implications of entangling the two worlds at such a time.
Snape wrapped her in his arms, attempting to give as much comfort as possible, "Precisely."
"…What is the potion?" her voice attempted strength.
"A forget-me potion; counteracted readily by a tincture of forget-me-not at the appropriate time, but the effects are strong. They will forget you ever existed and be compelled to continue their lives without you."
The strength broke in her voice as she held him closer, "Must I lose them, too?"
He kissed her tears away, "This is how you will save them, Hermione, not lose them. They, at least, will be standing at the end of this war. You will have a home to return to, even if it's not in the same place."
She looked up at him sorrowfully, "But… will they forgive me?"
He held her head to his chest. "They will Hermione. If not, you will make them understand. I am certain of it."
"…What if they discover they're better off without me?"
He tsked, "That's about as likely as Voldemort knitting doilies."
"Severus," she smiled into his chest.
"No one, Hermione, not one face on the Earth would have a better life for lack of you."
Her heart warmed at the kindest words she'd heard from the Potion Master's lips. "Thank you." She stalled. "We should do it now, shouldn't we? While Harry's away and Ron's distracted with Quidditch."
"And before hell is unleashed."
"And before all hell breaks loose." She nodded grimly.
"Issat Hermione?" Her mother with the same vivacious curls looked out the front window.
Her mustachioed husband approached, "So it is, and it seems she's brought one of her magical friends with her." The chestnut hair on his lip twitched at the sight of the older man.
"Mum!" Hermione smiled brightly, "Dad!" hugging them each in return. "It's so good to see you."
"Well, nothing to cry about now, dear!" Her mother sponged at her tears. "But we missed you too. Come in and have a cuppa. Who's this handsome man in the dark colors, hm?"
"Mum!" Hermione gasped.
"Severus Snape," he took the liberty of introducing himself with a firm handshake to each parent. "I have worked with Hermione for several years as her Professor. But I will be retiring from that position rather soon. In that time I have seen her grown into a brilliant young woman."
Hermione swallowed her blush.
"Always been a brilliant one," her father smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "D'you want to hear about the stories I have from when we didn't know she was a witch? Oh, the sparks would dance off her hair when-"
"Dad!" she huffed.
"Yes," Snape smirked, "I believe I've seen that in class."
"Whenever things weren't going right and she was frustrated, oh, she was such a cute little thing!" Her mother pinched her cheek.
"All right, already," Hermione patted her mother's hand. "I'll go make the tea. Have a seat."
She had to do it quick, before she regretted her decision.
The three took a seat on opposite sofas in the living room. While Hermione was in the kitchen, her mom spoke to the dark gentleman, "How are things going at Hogwarts? I've heard there is something like a war going on…"
"You are well informed, Mrs. Granger. There is trouble, but you can rest assured that Hermione is protected."
"I don't know about all that," her father's brow furrowed. "How safe can one be during a war?"
"The castle is enchanted. There are various wards to keep the students from harm."
"Bugger that," he harrumphed, "I don't trust buildings to keep our daughter safe. Can we trust the staff?" His russet eyes burrowed a hole into Snape.
"I, on the other hand, do not trust people easily," Snape folded his hands in his lap. "But your daughter and I have come to share the likes of which I have never known. I will keep her safe. This I promise you with my life."
Both parents sat back in awe as Hermione set the potion-filled tea on the table. She kissed them in turn as she handed them their mugs. "I love you, Mum. I love you, Dad. I hope you know I would do anything for you."
"We love you too, Hermione," Her mother hugged her with confusion. "This sounds like good bye, are you leaving so soon?"
"No mother," she smiled sadly, "I'm not going anywhere."