A/N: Yes, I'm aware that it's been ages since I've updated this story. I heartily apologize. It's been a crazy year, but summer is upon us. Hopefully, it will come along with plenty of time for writing. Thanks for bearing with me.
I have the utmost gratitude for my magical beta, s and h forever. Without her inspiration, I never would have begun writing.
Thanks to those of you reading. I hope you enjoy it. Your feedback, as always, is most encouraged and appreciated.
"Please, remember me fondly. I heard from someone you're still pretty. And then, they went on to say that the Pearly Gates had some eloquent graffiti like 'We'll meet again' and 'Fuck the man' and 'Tell my mother not to worry'. And angels with their great handshakes, but always done in such a hurry." (The Trapeze Swinger, by Iron & Wine)
Snape looked up at the night sky from the gardens of Malfoy Manor, glaring at the stars as they twinkled, their brightness mocking the darkness of the war raging on around him. It had been over a month since he had killed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, and Severus was miserable. He had expected the heavy feeling hanging over him to dissipate as the days progressed, but a respite never came. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop seeing Hermione's face as she screamed at him after watching Dumbledore fall. His mind unceasingly replayed the events of that night: how she had tried to curse him, and how she had collapsed as he walked away from the castle with his fellow Death Eaters in tow. As a follower of the Dark Lord, Snape had become accustomed to watching both the torment of those he had been forced to murder and the horrified faces of their families as they witnessed the last breaths of their loved ones, but this was different. This was Hermione.
Nothing had gone according to plan that night. She shouldn't have been involved. She should have found out after he was gone. Thinking about it now, he cursed himself for being so careless, so stupid. Of course, she wouldn't sit by and let him put himself in danger. How could he have thought for an instant that she would abide by his rules? It would have been impossible for him to come to such a conclusion if he had only taken the time to consider the behavior that had defined the Golden Trio's time at Hogwarts thus far. Rule abiding was certainly not the first characteristic of the friendship between Ron, Harry, and Hermione that came to Severus' mind.
The inevitable had finally caught up with him. He had tried to fend Hermione off, warn her that there were things he couldn't say that, if he divulged them, would ruin her good opinion of him. She hadn't believed him then, but he sure as hell knew she realized it now. He had no doubt that she hated him, and he was resigned to the fact that he deserved her disdain. He should have been expecting such an outcome from the beginning of their interactions with one another.
He continued to berate himself mentally for being so foolish as to hope that he could find such happiness as he had felt during his time with Hermione. He had never put any sort of stock in hope; it had never served him well. He preferred to live life in constant expectation of disappointment. It was hard to be hurt by someone if he never let that person get close to him in the first place. For Snape, it was better to be the source of one's own misery than to have it caused by another person. These were the principles upon which he had grounded his life, but with Hermione, everything had changed. Joy hadn't seemed like a long-lost dream anymore. He had experienced the kind of love he never thought could be felt for him. As hard as it had been for him to acknowledge and attain, he had thrown it away so carelessly.
He thought of the look in her eyes when she realized that it was he who had been following her and Kingsley. She had thought he intended to kill her, too. He saw nothing in her expression but pain, confusion, and a reflection of the death wish he witnessed in her during their last term at Hogwarts. She was more miserable than ever, and it was that fact that was now haunting him. But she would know everything in the end, after all was said and done. Perhaps she would remember him as the man she knew before Dumbledore's death. She had to know the truth. He couldn't imagine how she would be able to find it in her heart to forgive him, but Hermione was no ordinary witch. Her forgiveness was the only hope he had left. It would make his suffering worthwhile.
For you see, Severus Snape was in love with Hermione Granger. He had known it for some time but could scarcely admit it to himself, let alone to her. He had been conveniently hiding behind his assertion that he didn't know what he wanted. He hadn't known, really. He had been struggling with the thought of opening himself to another person and caring so deeply about another person's well being. Nothing could have prepared him for how he felt about Hermione. He supposed that he must have loved her all along. He suddenly wished he had told her of his love, but what good would it have done? His betrayal would have hurt her even more. He was not used to feeling so out of control. It was what made everything so crazy, made this war so impossible for him to bear. It was—
Snape's train of thought was cut short; the Dark Mark on his arm started to burn. Snape cursed to himself, regretting the day he chose to follow such a cruel leader. Only a twisted maniac like Voldemort would painfully summon someone who was standing right outside his door. He could have simply yelled or sent Wormtail, but mundane means such as these were clearly too easy for him. Surely, he wanted to reassert the dominance he had over his servants, even those among the ranks of his most trusted. Consequently, Severus rushed through the halls of Malfoy Manor until he reached the room the Dark Lord has assigned for the evening's debriefing. Severus had no doubt his Master would be upset with the events that had transpired but hardly thought he could be held accountable. It was rather difficult to continue as a spy operating within the Order when he had killed their most beloved leader.
"You summoned, my Lord?" Snape announced himself evenly, noting that he must have been the last to arrive as he saw Bellatrix, the Malfoys, and various Carrows standing around the chair in which Lord Voldemort sat.
"Of course, Severus," the Dark Lord replied. "You must be expecting that I am furious at the failure of my ranks, are you not?"
Snape froze for a moment, analyzing the Dark Lord's question. It was almost a constant exercise for Severus to question Voldemort's intentions; nothing was ever as straightforward as it appeared. It once amused him to try to understand the inner workings of the Dark Lord's mind, but he soon realized that, in their mind games and manipulations, he and Voldemort had more in common than he thought. His own ability to predict the thought processes of his Master wasn't a skill; it was an indictment of his own darkness. More and more, he was looking to the day that he would be free from his service. The uncomfortable shifting of the Death Eaters closest to him brought his mind back to the present question.
"Yes, my Lord, I must admit that I do." Severus responded in the affirmative even though it was the most obvious reply. "Our plan was nearly fool-proof, but clearly, someone passed information to the Order. Of course, I expect you to be furious. It's precisely how I would react myself, in this situation."
"I concede that for a moment I did feel the anger of which you speak," Voldemort acknowledged. "I would have gladly terminated whoever passed on said information, but I have conceived of an even better way to ensnare our dear Mr. Potter, and I am, in some way, pleased that our mission was so unsuccessful. Although as an aside, I hope you will find the identity of our spy, Severus. I know that it couldn't have been you since your ties were broken with the Order and, therefore, trust you in this matter. I expect an update before the week is out."
"With pleasure. If you don't mind my asking, would you care to elaborate on this plan of yours, my Lord?" Severus was unwillingly eager to hear of Voldemort's newest demented idea, if not merely to keep himself informed. Knowledge was always power, after all.
"I would, Severus, I would. No doubt the death of that blasted Auror, Moody, has Potter and his little friends quite shaken up. Morale at camp boy-who-lived must be rather low. Then the thought occurred to me: if we can wear Potter down by slowly ripping his wizarding family apart, he'll be a quivering mass of hopelessness by the time I finally decide to attack Hogwarts. Not only do we set an example of what will be done to those to oppose us, we weaken our greatest enemy. It's one of my more brilliant ideas, don't you agree, Severus?"
Snape glanced around the room, noticing the unanimous agreement of the Death Eaters surrounding him. Bellatrix was practically beaming, and he had to admit that Voldemort had a good point. Who but the Dark Lord himself wouldn't be deeply affected by the murder of all their loved ones?
"Yes, my Lord. It does seem to be a perfectly calculated plan. Where do you suppose we should start? I assume the other Aurors would make easy targets and would get the Order's most adept wandsmen out of the way. We –"
"No, Severus," Voldemort interrupted. "I plan to begin on a far grander scale, with something that will really tear Mr. Potter apart. We're going to kill his Miss Granger."
Severus could feel himself breaking into a cold sweat as he heard the Dark Lord's words. "Miss Granger… I see… interesting choice." He tried to calm himself, hoping his emotion was not detected by those around him. Hermione's punishment at the hands of Voldemort would only be multiplied if the true nature of their relationship were discovered, regardless of the state in which it was currently suspended.
"Indeed it is, but think of the consequences. The so-called Golden Trio has never been dismembered for any considerable length of time. Do you really think Potter and Weasley could survive without that Granger girl? She's managed to figure out how to rescue them from practically everything; I should have thought to kill her long ago. Moreover, that Weasley brat has got to be shagging her by now. Her death would paralyze him just as much as it would Potter, if not more so! Imagine the distress of the Order when they discover that we've managed to murder one of their precious children, let alone one of the Trio. She's the perfect victim, Severus. The entire wizarding world will keenly feel her loss. And, of course, she is a Mudblood. What better way to emphasize the sublime dominance of the pure wizarding race?"
Severus heard Bellatrix release a shrill cackle the instant Voldemort finished his monologue. He felt as though he were going to be sick. There would be no use in subtly offering an alternative. Voldemort's mind was clearly made up. Aside from Harry, no one had ever survived once Voldemort decided he or she were a target.
"Yes," Snape whispered slowly and almost inaudibly to the Dark Lord's ear. "It would seem that Miss Granger is the perfect victim."
"We will begin planning immediately," Voldemort announced, blinded by his maniacal glee. "For now, Severus, I assume you must return to Hogwarts. I'm sure you have many changes to make, now that you've been appointed Headmaster."
"I do, my Lord. Your debriefing was most appreciated and instructive. I look forward to your subsequent updates. Until then, I shall take my leave. Good evening to all of you." Severus turned on his heel and walked out of the room without saying another word before quickly Apparating to Hogwarts. He entered his rooms and realized that he wanted to be anywhere in the world but where he was; the school, his classroom, his laboratory, and his study all evoked memories of his time with Hermione. He saw her smiling, laughing, working, and loving him. He thought of the torture that Voldemort would force her to endure, should she be successfully captured. It wasn't likely he would just cleanly Avada Kedavra one of the Golden Trio. The Dark Lord would make her suffer, and he himself would more than likely be present for it.
He felt tears begin to form behind his eyes and forced them away as he stormed towards his liqueur cabinet. Snape had hoped the familiar burn of the Firewhiskey as it trailed down his throat would raise his spirits or at least sedate him, but he found no such relief. Instead, it ignited a fit of destruction that had him throwing anything he could get his hands on against his walls as he cursed the day he loved Hermione Granger. Suddenly, he stopped moving and sank to the floor amid the shattered glass and debris he had created. As he shook from the exhaustion and deprivation his body had been experiencing over the past weeks, Severus felt the alcohol finally take its desired effect. He felt himself finally slipping away into that comfortable place where no dreams would haunt him, where he would think of nothing.
It was in that place that he could forget about Hermione Granger and the death sentence now hanging over her head.