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Winter attacked with a vengeance. The temperature seemed to be stuck below twenty and there was never a day that snow did not make it nearly impossible for the students to make it to the greenhouses. Severus nearly constantly worried about Hermione, sitting with Potter and Weasley in the freezing cold. At least she was skilled enough to make a fire for them.

Severus found himself constantly returning to the Astronomy Tower, staring out across the frosty grounds. Small movements would draw his attention, make his heart jump into his throat, but then he would be disappointed in the fact that it was a stray animal, emerging from the forest. How many times had he imagined her emerging from that forest? How many hours had he stared longingly at the unwelcoming trees, hoping she had somehow made it through the constant security on the school to return to him.

The days seemed to drag on, a never ending wait for Severus. He paced in his office constantly, just for something to do so he didn't lose his mind. His fingers were raw and sometimes bloody from stress and he was constantly pulling at his hair.

But one day, something new occurred.

"Severus, it is time,"

"Time for what, Albus," Severus asked in a bored tone, once again wishing that something would come and end it all for him.

"The sword,"

Immediately Severus was on his feet and looking at the portrait.

"Now?"

"Yes, they need it,"

Severus retrieved the object from behind the portrait and followed Dumbledore's instructions to place it in the Forrest of Dean, making sure to send his Patronus out so they could find it. He stood in the Astronomy Tower, waiting for night fall, his heart pounding in his chest erratically. Would he see her tonight? Should he look for her? If he did, would it only make it more painful for him in the long run? Could it honestly get any worse?

He tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword, his fingers protesting at the action. He knew he was cold, but the energy pulsing through his body made it easy to forget such physical ailments. Severus stared at the sun, challenging the burning body with his glare. The sun hung in the sky, mocking him, slowing creeping lower in the sky, seeming to know Severus' desperation for the darkness that evening.

Finally, night engulfed the grounds and Severus, with a sigh of much awaited relief, Apparated smoothly. The instant his feet touched the ground he could feel the magic crackling in the air. They must have surrounded themselves with wards to prevent people from stumbling across their camp. Severus quickly made his way through the woods, looking for a spot to hide the sword, the real sword. Bellatrix thought that the real one was in her vault, but she had no way in telling the two apart, only a Goblin could do so.

Severus stumbled across a pond, and instantly broke the ice before unceremoniously tossing the sword into the murky depths and refreezing the hole. Quickly he made his way back, waiting for the moment he could feel the air begin to crackle. When he reached that point, Severus purposely made noise in order to get someone's attention before casting his Patronus. Sure enough Potter suddenly appeared, engrossed with the sight of the doe.

Severus sent the Patronus away, and he watched as Potter stumbled after the animal. Once he was out of sight, Severus darted towards the point where he saw Potter appear from. He could feel the magic; it was her magic, sure and strong. Stepping forward, he could feel the shields objecting, but he made it through. There, he found a tent, dark inside.

Stealthily Severus approached the structure and quickly ducked inside. Standing still for a moment, he could hear soft breathing of a single person. His eyes darted to a jar that rested on a table. The jar contained a crackling flame, releasing just the right amount of light so Severus could find the one occupied bunk.

Instantly he could recognize the hair, spread out across the pillow in an untamed way, the way he often saw the tresses fall across his own pillow. Severus found himself kneeling beside her bed, his eyes darting across her face as if he'd never seen her before.

Her face was thin and her lips were chapped. She obviously hadn't been sleeping very well due to the dark circles that were present under her eyes. His eyes traveled lower, to her hands, and found that she was clutching a black book, the book he had given her for her birthday. There were odd pieces of parchment sticking from the pages, and Severus couldn't help himself as he maneuvered the book from her thin fingers. Opening the book, the pieces fluttered to the floor and he quickly snatched them up.

Each piece was a note that he had written her. The note telling her that their lessons needed to be cancelled or the note telling her to not do anything stupid while he was away; everything that had his hand writing on it was tucked safely in the novel. It was clear that she often handled the pages seeing as they were wrinkled and folded.

Slowly, he replaced the papers into the cover where he had written Happy Birthday to her. Severus looked into her face once again, wishing he could just wake her up; hold her for a few minutes, just to see if the feeling was still the same. He knew that the idea wasn't logical. It was hard enough for the two of them to say goodbye the first time, and Severus knew that he couldn't do the same thing again.

Severus suddenly yanked out the piece of parchment that stated that he would be absent for an extended amount of time and quickly flipped through the book, searching for the chapter he knew she would recognize. When they would brew together, Severus often searched through the essay on chemical reactions between ingredients in order to help them brew and because it was the most fascinating thing to him. Often Hermione commented on the fact that most of his private library was mainly chemical compositions of ingredients and the various reactions they would have with other ingredients.

Quickly he slid the piece of parchment into the book and softly closed the cover. With a sigh, Severus placed the book beside her on the bed and stood. Suddenly he could hear footsteps outside and voices.

"Hermione!" Potter called.

Severus watched as she began to stir slightly. In a flash be bent over her, pressed his lips to her temple and then Apparated back to his cold rooms, still feeling her warmth lingering on his lips.

That night, his dreams were haunted by Hermione's emaciated figure emitting that heart breaking sob.

As the week drifted on, his dreams slowly morphed into Hermione laughing at him, mocking his age and his past, clinging to Weasley as if she shared a blood line with him. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if she fully rejected him? Every time he would see her eyes, laughing at him, he awoke in a cold sweat and spent hours staring at his ceiling. Constantly he reminded himself that the Hermione in his dreams wasn't the Hermione he knew and loved. But as the weeks dragged on, the line became blurry. Severus was fearful of losing her memory and would often test himself to see if he could still remember her laugh or her face when she was reading.

When he would go to a meeting with the Dark Lord, Severus spent every ounce of energy trying to keep him out. Hermione constantly burst forward and he practically had to beat her back into his secure room. Their meetings were held in the same room she was tortured in, and that's all he could think of when he was there.

While at the meetings, Severus often found himself studying Lucius. The man seemed to be deteriorating by the week; the pressure was too much for him. Narcissa on the other hand was all about appearances. Never did she appear without wearing all of her finest clothing, jewelry with her make up done perfectly. Even as she sat at the table, she stuck her nose in the air because she was a pureblood.

Sitting in front of his fire, Severus scoffed at the idea. Pureblood. Who in the wizarding world was pureblood, except for a select few? If magical beings were only allowed to mate with one another, their race would have been extinct hundreds of years ago. Severus himself was half-blood, but that never hindered him in his learning. He was often at the top of his class. Of course his mind drifted to Hermione. No one in her family line had ever had a drop of magical blood in them, yet she was by far the most brilliant witch he had ever come across. Her mind surpassed even those of the pureblood snobs.

Severus felt himself drifting, and immediately thought the same sentence he thought every night before he fell asleep.

I hope to God she makes it through the night.

Hermione heard her name being called from a distance, but she tried to ignore it. She was having the most wonderful dream. It was sunny outside and Hermione was standing in a field of flowers wearing a white sun dress that was gently blowing in the light breeze. Slowly she stepped among the flowers, sighing at the world around her.

She could see him almost immediately. His black robes commanded respect and attention, and his powerful stride made people stare.

Hermione could feel her heart beat and breath quicken at the sight. In a flash he Apparated and was gone.

"Severus?" she called out gently.

She could instantly feel his presence behind her and whirled around. His dark eyes were sparkling and his lip was slightly lifted into an amused smile. Hermione instantly felt herself begin to grin at him.

He bent down and pulled a beautiful purple flower from the ground before handing it to her. She took it from his graceful fingers and twirled it slightly. Before she could say anything, he took her hand and the two began to slowly walk along with one another. Hermione stared at his face. He seemed at peace, something she never saw in his face, even when he slept.

Before she could say another word, her name echoed in her ear, yanking her hand from his.

"Hermione!"

She tried to find that field of flowers again, but she could feel herself surfacing quickly. Suddenly she felt a pressure against her forehead, and Hermione awoke with a gasp. Quickly she looked around the tent for someone. Reaching a hand up, she touched her temple. Something had touched her, but what?

Hermione didn't have much time to think before she could hear Harry calling her name. In an instant she darted out of the tent in a frenzy.

"Harry? What's wrong?" she asked looking around.

What she didn't expect to see what Ron standing there. She definitely didn't expect him to be holding the sword of Gryffindor.

"Why are you here and how did you get that?" she snapped.

What was he doing here? He just left them!

"Hey," he muttered.

Hermione snapped and exploded for a few minutes, and thankfully Ron knew better than to open his mouth. When she was calm enough to listen to the two boys, she was forced to endure Ron's story of how he heard her voice and that's what brought him back. Hermione shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

She loved Ron, just not in that way. Not the way she found that she loved Severus. She would give everything up for that man, every single earthly possession that she had. If he wanted her to move to Antarctica with him, she would go without a second thought. She would give her life up for him if it ever came to that. Hermione was well aware that she was young, and he would tell her that she had so much to live for, and he was old and had lived his life. But Hermione wouldn't listen to him. She would sacrifice her own life so he could get a second chance to live the life that was stolen from him. He needed to know that the world wasn't necessarily a bad place; he was just part of the wrong crowd.

"So what about the sword?" she asked trying to steer the conversation off of herself.

"I was keeping watch and suddenly I saw a light. It was a Patronus,"

"I thought it was Harry's," Ron said.

"No, mine's a stag. That was a doe,"

Hermione's head snapped up as she stared at Harry. Her throat went dry and she could feel the blood drain from her face.

"A doe?" she choked out.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Are you positive it was a doe? It couldn't have been something else?" she asked, hoping that it wasn't a doe.

If it was, she knew it was him. No one else she knew had a Patronus like that. He would have been so close to her, close enough to touch if she wanted to.

"It was a doe, I'm sure,"

Hermione's eyes darted around the woods surrounding them, hoping that she saw a movement of black, or perhaps hear the wind whipping the black robes she so desperately missed.

"Hermione?" Ron asked.

Hermione's hand flashed to her temple. He was right there, while she was sleeping. He had touched her. Why didn't he wake her? Why didn't he allow her to just see him for a few moments? Why didn't he allow her to have something to get through this?

She could feel the tears spring into her eyes as she looked around for his form, knowing he was long gone by now.

"Are you alright?" Ron pushed.

"Fine," Hermione snapped, rushing back into the tent.

He was right there. Right there! Her eyes found her book and froze. There were no odd pieces of parchment sticking out of the edges of her book. Rushing forward she opened the cover seeing that each piece was neatly placed in the cover of the book Severus had gotten her. Someone had rearranged them. Her eyes found the one piece that was slightly protruding from the middle of the book, a place where she never put anything.

Gently, she flipped the pages over to reach the piece of parchment. When she reached the page, she nearly burst into tears. This was Severus' favorite chapter, she knew. She was sure he knew this essay by heart given that he had read it over so many times.

Tears filled her eyes as she sunk to her knees.

"Thank you," she mumbled to no one.

He had given them the one thing they knew could destroy the locket; once again, Severus Snape had saved them. Not only that, but he had let her know that it was he who had been there. Part of her was happy that he had been so close, but another part of her was shattering, knowing that she could have reached up and touched him after weeks of not even being in his presence.

"Thank you," she whispered, gently touching the page that his fingers had touched so many times before.