The Dark Lord hissed, recoiling as if he were in pain. The members of the Death Eater inner circle kept a collective mask of detachment and disinterest. All, Severus noted, except for Lucius. Hide that hope from your eyes, you fool, Severus glanced at a haggard version of his colleague. He had once been the apple of every witches' eye in their year. Lucius was born with a certain aloofness that only came from wealth and pure breeding. He'd never wanted to be part of a war. No. He'd only wanted to be a part of something that made him worth more: A real commodity. Now, as the look in his wife's eyes said, he was less than nothing. How the mighty had fallen.
Bellatrix Lestrange reacted by pawing at her master, "My Lord! What is it?"
"Enough!" The snake-like demon (for Severus would no longer call him a man) threw her off. "Severus," his furious red eyes came to rest on the potion's master, "walk with me."
Singed with ash and stinging from the flames of Fiendfyre, Hermione rolled backwards from the entrance to the Room of Requirement. "Quickly!" she shouted at her spectacled friend. Harry raised the basilisk fang and struck at the diadem with purpose. A faint screeching could be heard as Ron wasted no time kicking it into Goyle's Fiendfyre. Just as the door to the room was closing, Hermione looked up with terror and belated elation at Voldemort's face forming in the flames. The room abruptly sealed his tomb. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. They had dispatched with another horcrux! Now all that was left was that loathsome snake! Hermione coughed some smoke from her lungs and smiled at her allies. Dusting herself off, she rose from the floor.
The group paused for a moment to analyze one Draco Malfoy standing across from them. He had lost Goyle. He had lost Crabbe. Essentially, he had lost who he was. The blank look on his face said it all. For now, it seemed, her friends had little time for sympathy. The shrieks of their fighting classmates had lead them to focus on the fray.
"Come on, Hermoine!" Harry called over his shoulder as he and Ron were clearing a path.
Hermoine stood there for a moment, examining her once-enemy's clear eyes. He was bereft. In that instant, she could see the same look on a young Severus' face: orphaned by everything he knew and loved. The only thing she could do was wrap her arms around his cold form, even if he could not return the gesture.
"'Mione!" Ron called.
She pulled herself away from him. He swallowed back the pain as she placed her hands on his shoulders. They exchanged a mournful silence.
"Let's go!" Ron cried once more.
At that, she turned to arm herself once more.
The Shrieking Shack was as hideous and insidious as it always had been. "It's meant to be the most haunted building in Britain," Severus recalled Hermione's recitation from one of her several books. How strange that those words would send a shiver down his spine, as if they were a prophecy of his own demise. It was here that Albus had encouraged the Marauders to aide Lupin in Lycanthropy. It was here that Severus had developed one of his recurring nightmares, being devoured by werewolf. It should be fitting that he would die here from the nightmare occurring this day. In fact, he would have welcomed the end, if not for Hermoine…
Severus? Hermione reached out. Where is the snake? We're winning, Severus! I know it! We just need Nagini!
All points go to Gryffindor. Severus smiled dryly in her mind. You'll be happy to hear then, that the snake is with me.
Ice ran through her veins. With you? Why would it-?
In this short time you have healed my heart. I hope this short while won't have damaged yours. His voice grew sorrowful. With all I'm worth: I've loved you, Miss Granger.
"Severus!" Hermione screamed aloud.
Harry and Ron turned to look at her in startled confusion.
Tears streamed from her eyes, "He's with the snake!" she stuttered, "The Shrieking Shack! The snake!" At that, her feet were faster than a doe's hooves in the forest.
Harry and Ron looked at one another. They did not know how she knew. They did not know why. One thing they knew for certain: not to question Hermione. Both boys darted after her through the pervasive darkness of night.
Hermione slammed her fist onto the notch on the Whomping Willow, begging for access. She had always been one for plans. In her early years she'd have everything thoroughly written out, researched, and calculated. But something within her changed with that potion, during her fifth year. For now, she had nothing in her mind but desperation. See Severus. Save Severus. Her mind chanted with each beat of her heart.
"Ssseverus," a dark voice hissed.
Hermoine nearly hurled herself from the room in which she was hidden. Harry reached out and held her fast. She turned to look at his green eyes, which contained every expression of restraint. She knew her death would accomplish nothing. They could not finish Voldemort here, not with Nagini protected. They could not reveal themselves without killing Harry and leading the wrong side to victory. And so, in the shadows they hid. For all they could do was watch.
The room beyond was dimly lit, but she could see Nagini, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in her enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in mid-air. He could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered, white hand toying with a wand. Then Snape spoke, and her heart lurched: he was inches away from where she crouched, hidden.
"... my Lord, their resistance is crumbling –"
"– and it is doing so without your help," said Voldemort, in his high, clear voice. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there ... almost."
"Let me find the boy," Snape's voice was passive, as if he had accepted his fate, "Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."
Snape strode past the gap, and Hermione drew back a little. She tried to keep her bleary eyes fixed upon Nagini, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding her. Years of knowledge were reduced to nothing. All she could see was his red ink scrawled neatly on her pages. And soon that ink became blood.
Severus cried out as Nagini struck his throat. Hermoine bit her lip clean through as she buried her head against Harry's chest. The gurgling noises he had made would haunt her long after. That noise was all she could focus on as Voldemort exited the scene. Harry shook her then, bringing her back into the moment. "He's gone."
She stood with the help of her friends, walking on wobbly knees until she collapsed at Severus' feet. There was blood. So much blood that his dark robes had become slick and shiny. She paled, doubling over, and held herself as Snape spoke to Harry. There must have been so much he needed to say. A lifetime.
"Take it," he rasped, "take it."
Hermione looked up to see a vial collect his tears. A vial… the word echoed in her empty skull. Much like the one in her coat pocket. She hadn't much time. "Harry," she squeaked, correcting her voice with strength, "there's a pensive in Dumbledore's office. Ron I need you to guard him."
"'Mione, what about-" Ron began.
"I have something I need to finish here!" She blinked the tears from her eyes. "I'll be safe. I swear it." She gave them a determined look, "Now go!"
Ron looked back with hurt in his eyes, knowing full well this had something to do with what she'd said at the cottage. But, this would be the only time she could receive closure. He sighed, so be it. The two boys nodded and ran off just as Voldemort was making another declaration.
Hermione grasped the swirling vial from her inner coat pocket, uncorking it with her teeth.
Severus' glassy eyes grew wide as he shook his head, wheezing "For… Harry…"
"No!" Tears streamed past her chin. "I'm so sick and tired of you living your life for Harry. Haven't you once thought of me?" She hiccupped, "I need you!"
His brows furrowed as he eyed her thoughtfully.
"I believe in him. I know Harry. He doesn't need this potion, Severus, you do!" Her voice weakened, "…Can't you be selfish? For me?"
Severus cupped her cheek with his cold fingers, caked in blood. The opportune moment was slipping. Soon she would realize this, and she'd be able to use the vial for its correct purpose. He looked up at her warm eyes and truly knew love before he would close his forever.
"Severus!" She cried as his hand slipped from her cheek, leaving a crimson trail. Swiftly, tilting her head back, she emptied the potion contents into her mouth. In an instant, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. With her tongue, she ensured that he swallowed every last drop.