The day was a countdown to misery, like some hellish New Year's Eve. After her parents had consumed the potion, she listened from the kitchen as Snape cast a conviction spell on them; telling them that they had always wanted to move to Australia and they were lucky to have recently come into an inheritance that would allow them to do so. She watched as her mother and father nodded in agreement, grasping each other's hands as if it were the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. She smiled through her tears at their happiness. Even if it was false.
Snape joined Hermione in the kitchen as the Granger's, a family of two, began their excited packing. He offered a remorseful hand as the two apparated back to his chambers with a crack that mirrored her splintered heart. She would have them back at the end of this war, she would make sure of it.
"It won't be the last time I tell you I'm sorry, Hermione."
She wrapped her arms around his midsection and he folded her into his embrace. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You've quite possibly saved their lives." She looked up at him in admiration, "You must have had this planned out for a long time. And you alone took the efforts to secure their safe passage... You must think a lot of me."
You haven't the slightest idea.
She hid her face in his chest, "I'm so grateful to have you by my side."
"I'm thankful to be considered by a side rather than on it." He ran a hand over her crown.
"I wish you could remain by my side, always."
"Always," he gestured to her mind, "in here."
"And here," she placed his hand to her heart. "Thank you, Severus."
As he kissed her, he could taste the salt that stained her lips and his lapel.
The two had lunch and dinner delivered to his chambers, spending their remaining moments gaining whatever warmth they could from one another. The overcast clouds were bleeding with rain outside, setting the stage for what would occur that evening. Hermione had always felt independent; she could accomplish any task individually while leading others to achieve their own personal victories. She had done so in academics. She had done so in her adventures with Harry and Ron. She never felt herself to be the weak, clingy type of female. That was until this vulnerable hour when she attempted to assimilate herself with everything that was Severus Snape, tangling her limbs with his on the bed. She felt pathetic but she couldn't bear to pull herself away. The concept of loss was weighing heavily over her humidity-amplified curls. Wasn't love supposed to make you feel strong?
Severus' thoughts were a distorted mirror of Hermione's. He knew love made you weak; it made you so weak that you came crawling through the mud to beg allegiance to the side of whoever would save your beloved. Love was a vulnerability to be preyed upon by the highest bidder. That was the reasoning that had defined his life. He felt the familiar ache once more as he cradled the fragile body against his own. But this love was different from his first love. He didn't want to shrivel up and die in embarrassment or rebel at her misunderstanding. For her, he wanted to be a better man. He wanted to afford her a better future. He was desired for who he was and admired for what he could achieve. Without Hermione, he would struggle to find the reason in this terrible war. In the velvet darkness, there was a light worth fighting for. Yes, love was a vulnerability, but it had strengthened him more than she would ever know.
"Hermione," Snape kissed her forehead. "It is time. I should go."
Hermione wrapped herself around him in a tighter fashion. She felt like a spoiled child: only now, she had no parents to speak of. "You can't Severus, I need you."
He held her closer, "It is for that very reason I must." He stood then, slowly buttoning his robes as Hermione gave a detached stare at his back. He was leaving. Leaving for good. Was this the last time she would feel his warmth? She grasped at his outer layer in desperation. "Remember all I've taught you. I've prepared some necessary items for you on the mantle." He smoothed her unruly hair once more.
"Severus," she gathered her courage, "it may not mean much- and I might know nothing about it-but I, I love you." She looked up at him determinedly.
He smiled then; a sorrowful, knowing smile. "Insufferable Miss Granger, admitting her defeat in matters of understanding." He kissed her deeply and completely. "Foolish girl. To me, it means everything."
By the embers of the fire she watched his exit from the bedroom, robes billowing around him as if he were the oncoming storm. A man to be feared. A man to be admired. The only man she ever loved, Severus Snape.