Chapter 2

A week had slipped by and entered the realm of memory. The village was a motley collection of around a hundred houses and remained detached from the modern world for the most part. Their neighbours were friendly enough if a little intrusive. The men folk would stop by to chat in the evenings without prior information or notice and treat the house like their personal palace. Owing to Severus's curt if not rude responses, however, their frequent trips had lessened. The women were an entirely different matter and Hermione found it extremely trying to keep them company. She had snapped at two of them in frustration and was regarded by most as an ill-tempered young woman. She still had to put on cordial air when someone did turn up but was not required to indulge in banal affairs of the womenfolk on a day to day basis.

She and Severus spent most of their time researching the various causes that might have toppled Dumbledore's plan. She read books, tallied notes and did everything in her power to find a way to contend with the evil power at its height. She also handled the kitchen work. He cleaned. She did the laundry. He did the dishes. It was organised. Sometimes, it was hard for her to believe that she was actually living with her former professor.

Hermione had managed to find work in a local grocery store. It was mundane work, rife with everyday banter of the most foolish kind with the locals. She did not relish it in the least but it did keep her away from thoughts of murder and arson.

It was true.

She wanted to set the world on fire for all that she had lost and burn in the raging inferno.

But, never mind.

The quiet lull of countryside was treacherous. She had to remind herself of the fact that they had lost a war over and over again. Hermione gazed outside the window while she chopped a few onions at the kitchen counter. The war had dissipated into a festering wound on the psyche in the last few days. It seemed so far away. It was almost a part of the world she had never imagined in her wildest dreams.

And now, for the time being or perhaps forever, it was gone.

They had wracked their minds to dust. He had questioned and made her repeat every tiny detail of Dumbledore's plan but to no avail. It hadn't worked. Something had been overlooked.

Something so potent that it had changed the entire course of war.

They had lost.

Not yet, she told herself as unbidden tears threatened to overflow the barriers of her eyelids.

She had nightmares.

Repeatedly.

The faces of her deceased friends haunted her.

Not yet. Don't give up, yet.

"Ouch!" she hissed under her breath as the knife accidentally slid through her skin and reddened the chopping block with her blood.

"You want to be careful with those choppers," a smiling female voice commented from the doorway and Hermione fought back the urge to curse loudly. It was Emily. She was Hermione's age and stopped by at odd times, mindless of how it impacted her day and was uncomfortable to her. Like always, she stepped indoors and sat down at the table without invitation.

Hermione scraped the onion stuck to the bloodied tray and threw it into the waste-bin. She paid her unwelcome visitor no heed and searched for some band-aid to tie around her finger. It stung as she poured some antiseptic over the wound.

All this while, Emily's eyes stalked Hermione. She was keenly aware of the rustic girl's fascination and shuddered at the implications. She really had no inclination to speak with her.

"What brings you down here today, Emily?" She turned and leaned against the counter as she smiled a false smile at her. The girl stared at Hermione's tired face unashamedly.

"Lots of hard work, being married and all?" she asked curiously.

Hermione had to fight back a groan that lingered along her throat.

"Yes. It is," she answered shortly and wiped her wet hands on the apron. She wished the stupid girl would go away.

The Professor had not intimated her of any details regarding his destination when he went in the morning. It wasn't for his mundane duties as an accountant in the local business. She wasn't naïve enough to think he would need his wand for the same.

He had said that they would keep low.

That they would not venture heedless into the arms of despair and lose.

And yet, something told her that he had done that very thing.

A strange sense of foreboding filled her bereaved heart.

"Does it hurt very much the first time?"

Her innocent words interrupted Hermione's macabre thoughts and she cringed. She simply nodded at the girl and began working once more. But Emily would not leave her alone. She crept towards Hermione slowly and caught her by the hand.

"Please… I need to know, I am so afraid… You see, I'm getting married at the end of this month and I…" she gulped and gazed into Hermione's brown eyes. Hermione's eyes travelled to her trembling lips and she looked away.

"Look, you'll be fine alright… It's nothing too hard," she reassured the panicked girl. Her words were empty. It wasn't like she had ever had the chance to experience… She had wanted Ron to be the one but he…

Dead.

"Right." Emily seemed to have got a hint of her reluctance for, presently; she stepped back and looked at the floor moodily. "I'm sorry for having bothered you. I'll-I'll just leave now."

The quiet distress in the girl's voice moved Hermione and she put a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Emily, you'll be fine. As long as the prospective husband loves you, he won't hurt you. You've nothing to worry about." She gave her a small smile. "Be thankful that virginity is the only loss you have to deal with in the near future and hopefully, for many years to come…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said quietly as she cut the capsicum into neat, long pieces. "You'll be okay."

She had had to grow up too quickly for her liking.

"Professor!" she cried and jumped from her cushioned seat in fright as soon as she saw him stumble into the doorway.

He was covered in blood. She hurried to his staggering form and supported him to the living room sofa with much effort. Once there, he slumped into the second-hand furniture and closed his eyes. She stood staring at his face for a few moments before her senses claimed her and she ran to fetch Dittany from the cupboard.

There were too many gashes spread all over his body. Bits of his flesh had been scorched and were giving off a foul odour. His breathing was heavy and broken. All the while she attended to his visible wounds; he kept his eyes shut and took in air through his mouth. It was uncanny to witness her former professor, her professor who exuded strength and inscrutability, lie there helpless in front of her.

As the essence of Dittany coursed its way through his skin and stabilised him, he began to stir and opened his eyes. He was weary and looked spent.

She, too, was weary.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he rasped as soon as he noticed her bent over his prone from. He shifted on the couch and tried to steady his breathing. Hermione did not know what to do with herself or him. She had been worried all day long. He had cautioned her to take every step for safety and from the looks of it, he had been a hypocrite. It would not have been too bad if she had had anyone else for company in this… exile…

Everyone else was gone and the thought of losing the last person with whom she could identify was terrifying.

Even if the last person happened to be Professor Snape.

She withdrew from his side and went to the refrigerator to pour him some water. The strange sound that water made when it contacted its own kind in the glass was magnified to her perceptive ears. She handed him the glass and twiddled her thumbs in anticipation. She hoped that he would tell her about this reckless sojourn he had indulged in.

"Not tonight, Miss Granger," he said quietly when he handed back the empty glass to her. "There have been developments that are far too sinister to be discussed under the accursed cover of this night…"

She tapped the parchment with the end of her quill and looked up at her former professor in concern. He was still recuperating. The wounds had healed but she had noticed the slight limp in his walk when he had left the house for work in the morning. He had had difficulty eating his breakfast. She had held her silence all through the day and waited for the evening to arrive when he would, hopefully, brief her about his doings. Theirs may have been an unequal partnership imposed by chance but she was still entitled to information.

Every bit of it.

"I don't understand your premise, Professor," she addressed him in confusion. "Correct me if I'm wrong but you're saying that it was not the Dark Lord's curse that killed Harry and that it was all planned. The battle scene was staged to provide a cover for something?"

Severus nodded as he sipped his glass of sherry and looked into the fire crackling merrily in the fireplace.

"The Dark Lord is no fool," he began slowly. "He had tried and failed to murder Potter as an infant and a boy. He was no idiot and would not have been lured into a battle in which he could lose. We made a mistake there in underestimating his powers of inference and correction. No, Miss Granger, he is no fool."

"And Dumbledore made a mistake? I fail to see how his intellectual capabilities have anything to do with what happened?"

"Yes, Dumbledore was… a great wizard but he failed and the result of his failure lies before us." He held up a hand when Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt. "The Dark Lord knew what would happen when he cursed Potter. He knew exactly what lay in store. He cursed Potter knowing fully well that the piece of his soul that was harboured in Potter would be freed as a result of the curse."

"That's ridiculous! He didn't even know that Harry was a Horcrux. He couldn't possibly have known that or he would not have killed Harry!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "Why would he want to destroy the last Horcrux he had? Why would he want to kill a part of his own soul?"

"Quiet, Miss Granger," he growled at the girl before him and fixed her with a penetrating look. "Yes, he did not know that Potter was a Horcrux but I have reason to believe that he knew, at least during the last stage of the battle. As for the next part, do you know what happens when Horcruxes are destroyed?"

Hermione was dumbfounded at his question. But she was determined to try for an answer. It did feel much like a classroom interrogation anyway.

"I suppose the portion of the soul contained therein dies…"

"No."

She frowned at the notes she had made and wondered at his answer. "But it must. Surely, that is what would happen. Isn't that what Dumbledore said, that the soul fragments would perish and Voldemort would weaken as a result? Where else would the soul go?"

Severus sipped a little more and stared long at the bottle in front of him. She did not like drinking anything really and would not have condoned it but it wasn't like she had an option here. She could hardly nag him like she had done her best friends.

"The fragments of one's soul, when freed from the object, reunite with that part which resides in the body. In other words, every Horcrux, when destroyed, releases the fragment held in it which then goes to unite with the master. And that," He leaned forward and stared into her honey brown eyes, "is the reason why the Dark Lord would've let the Horcrux in Harry's body be freed. Not killed, Miss Granger, but freed so that the Dark Lord's soul could be whole again. It would have been a small price to pay in his eyes."

Horrified, Hermione looked at his face and swallowed. Her throat was parched and she felt like her tongue was made of leather as she ran it over her cracked lips.

"I never read about this. How could Dumbledore not know of it? Wasn't he a greater wizard than Tom Riddle? How could he not…"

Severus shook his head and stared at the quill in her hand. "I don't know, Miss Granger. I do not have all the answers."

A small suspicion crossed her mind as she surveyed his careworn face. "When did you find out about this?"

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday…" she repeated his words. "You came back torn and bleeding. I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile for the time being. You broke your own rules once again."

He scowled at her darkly and gulped the last remnants of sherry. "It was necessary."

"I suppose I don't get to know what it was that caused you to almost die at the doorstep of this house."

"No," he snapped at her and got up. As she watched with crossed arms, he paced the room to and fro. "Suffice it to know that all evidence of our existence has been erased. But that is not the issue at hand. We are not here to hide and wait till death claims us."

Hermione laid her head down on the table and watched his frenzied movement.

"I know but it doesn't seem like you want to involve me in anything at all. You tell me nothing, I stay here most of the day and feel fucking useless," she mentioned sarcastically. "I might be young but that is no reason for you to keep me out of plans and intelligence."

"Language, Miss Granger." He shot her a scathing glare and continued with his incessant motion. "You do realise what it means to be in someone's subordination. I'm sure you do. And even though we may be the only ones left here and are alone, you shall not be a partner in this endeavour. You will listen to my instructions and do as I say for it will be in your benefit to act upon my judgement."

Hermione bristled at his words. "Right, because your judgement doesn't leave one dead, just… crippled and incapacitated. I'm sure that's what I am looking for, Professor."

He ignored her remark and her, generally. She got the distinct impression that he was trying to think.

No way was she going to listen to him and do as he said with blind faith. Sure, he was more experienced and perhaps more powerful but she was capable enough in her own right. She sat with her arms crossed and watched his movements like a hawk.

It was just her luck, to have been stuck with the likes of him. Not that he was a bad person but he was definitely not someone she would want to be cooped up with for an indefinite amount of time. And as matters stood, he was the only familiar in this world… of unknowns.

"We must leave tomorrow if we are to make efforts towards this…" he muttered under his breath but Hermione's keen ears picked up.

"Leave? But where? I thought the plan was to stay here." She gazed at him worriedly. "Why can't you just tell me what it is? I have brains too, you know."

He looked at her with a bored expression on his face and sighed.

"The Dark Lord is too powerful to be defeated in a duel or a battle... Even if we were to try and fight him with force, we would fall woefully short in our resources. I have something in mind, something that may be dangerous but it could be the only thing that might help us out of this predicament."

Although his words were uttered in a nonchalant tone, she could sense the underlying worry.

"If there is a way, then I shall most certainly be a part of it. I swore, in case you have forgotten, to fight until death claims me. I shall not back down, Professor, not when so much has already been lost."

She thought she saw his face darken at her words.

He could see that she had trouble keeping up with him but he moved quickly, nevertheless. Under the cover of night, they traversed quietly through the forest. It had been too easy a task to seek this end of the world.

No, it was what lay beyond that bothered him.

"Is it very far off?" she asked him when she finally caught up and he could hear her panting beside him.

"No," he replied shortly. "Just a little way off."

"Are you sure it's the right thing to do? I have never partaken of Dark Magic before and I'm not sure how this might turn out. Is there no other way? I thought the Valkyries were a myth…"

He groaned inwardly at her questions. She talked too much and if it had not been absolutely imperative that she accompany him, he would have left without a word. It was true that they were going to enter the Underworld to seek Valkyries, the choosers of the slain. It required an exquisite amount of magical binding on the caster's part to open the portal. And once there, Granger would probably be the only one who would be able to communicate with them. For any chance of success, he needed a female companion.

The Valkyries spoke and listened to one of their kind.

"They are not a myth but yes, most of the knowledge contained in the books about them is fictitious. They seek the bravest who die in the battle-fields, yes, but they also decide who dies and at what point of time. We will seek them so that we may have a clearer idea of what it would take to defeat the Dark Lord, even though i cannot surmise how... But it is the only option I see available before us. For now. And you don't have to worry about casting any spells or being tainted by Dark Magic. I shall be doing the honours." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hadn't meant for them to sound as they did.

The girl was too loud for her own good, he thought as she almost dipped her foot in a puddle of water. They had managed to avoid any dangerous animals so far and Severus hoped to keep it that way. His wandless magic would last a while and he hoped to make it to the precipice before dawn.

"Why didn't Dumbledore do it then, if this was so easy?"

Another question.

Did she ever quit?

She was almost as bad as Lily…

He closed his eyes at that thought.

"It isn't easy," he snapped at her. "Dumbledore trusted the damn Prophecy and that was that. He chose his own way of dealing with things and I choose mine."

"What about my way?"

"And what would that be?"

They had arrived at the bridge. It was too narrow and he watched in amusement as apprehension crossed her plain features.

"I-I don't know but I could have one too if only I had enough knowledge," she retorted and looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "This looks too dangerous. Can't we fly or something?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No." He nudged her forward and followed after the anxious girl. "It's magical. You won't fall off."

"So there really is no other way?"

There, once she had got over her fright, she was ready with her cannonball of questions.

Why could he not have saved someone else?

"Hold your tongue for a while, Miss Granger, and cross the bridge."

She shut up after that as the bridge had begun to sway in the gentle breeze.

Once they had crossed that part of the journey, the only thing left was to search for the stone.

He left Granger standing near the bridge and kept a keen eye out for the hallowed stone. He need not have worried about that bit. As soon as the clouds shifted over the moon and a ray of light struck the ground, the stone was revealed. Severus ran his thin fingers over its cracked surface and looked back at her.

He noticed the strange look on her face as she took a few steps in his direction.

She was a smart girl.

Hermione watched hypnotised as Professor Snape withdrew his wand and channelled his magic through the stone. She could feel the ground beneath them hum as magic coursed through it. As each moment passed, it began to shake violently and she had to grab the nearest tree to hold herself still.

Suddenly, she felt it.

Darkness seemed to pour out of the stone and enveloped the two individuals in its elegant raiment. The screeching sounds of death overwhelmed her and she squeezed her eyes shut as she held on to the tree for dear life.

Don't let us die here, she prayed as the wind howled and shrieked around them. She dared not open her eyes for the fear of what she may witness.

As suddenly as it had come, it stopped.

She had fallen on the ground in face of the terrible onslaught of this darkness.

She had never known that Dark Magic could sting.

"You may open your eyes, Miss Granger. It is gone now." For the first time, his silky voice sounded like honey to her ears. She opened her eyes and when she beheld the scene before her, she was tempted to close them again.

It was an abyss.

She gazed into the cold, dark world of the dead and took a step back.

He stood gazing into the dark with a faraway look on his face.

It was fathomless, forlorn and macabre.

She couldn't look at it.

She could not do it.

"Miss Granger," he said quietly and she was surprised to see him standing closer to her. Hadn't he stood at the edge of the living world only a few moments ago? "It is natural to fear but let it not blind you. Come."

He proffered his hand and she looked at it stupidly.

Really, Hermione. Get a grip on yourself.

She took it reluctantly and watched fascinated as he led her to the chasm.

It was too dark.

She swallowed.

"P-Professor, I'm not sure that I can d-do this," she rasped and almost took a step back.

"What are you afraid of?" His voice sounded so different, almost messiah like, here, at the edge.

"I'm afraid of being devoured by this terrible darkness that spreads its body all over the world below," she whispered and gazed into the void once more.

"Look at me, Miss Granger."

She beheld his pale face with those greasy hair and dark eyes. For a moment, she thought she saw a kindred soul in there somewhere.

He was all alone, just like her.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

She thought she felt his hand shake a little at her response.

"When I say jump," he spoke quietly and pressed her hand carefully, "jump. And no matter what happens, do not let go of my hand."

She had lost her voice so she nodded in affirmation and looked at their uncertain destination once more.

She owed it to her friends.

She owed it to everyone.

She'd be brave.

They needed answers.

r&R