A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #7 Arts and Crafts - Task #2- Stripe/Accordion: Write about resisting something.

Word Count: 761

"Just remember I love you," Hermione whispered, staring into Severus' eyes. "I will always love you." They were standing on the Hogwarts grounds. Severus was supposed to be meeting Lord Voldemort, supposed to be watching the scene between the madman, the snake, and Harry unfold.

"Hermione, my Hermione," he whispered, pulling her to him, holding her head against his chest. She took a deep breath of his scent, sandalwood and smoke with a hint of some sort of mint. "I wish...I wish it didn't have to come to this."

"But it does," she replied, raising her head slightly. Severus could see the tears falling down her cheeks. "It has to, we both knew what was coming. We both knew there was a chance we wouldn't survive this war, Dumbledore set that up nicely, didn't he?" she asked, her voice flat and rough at the same time.

"There... there has to be another way, a way we can... both..."

"I've run the numbers. You've tried everything. I've tried everything, nothing short of a miracle could change things," she whispered, shaking her head. "Now, go, before it's too late," she urged. She'd taken a strong hand to arthimancy, using it figure out the tides of the battle, how things were going to play out. She thought she had mapped everything out, every little deed, every little scene. Falling head over heels with Severus had not been part of the that plan. He hadn't planned on returning those feelings. No, he'd simply asked her help in brewing potion after potion in hopes something would be able to counteract the snake's venom. Nothing had worked so far. The latest potion, experiment number five hundred and fifty was tucked in his pocket now.

"No," he drawled. "I'm not leaving you. I am done being a pawn in this war. I will chose how I die. I want to die in battle, next to you," he stated. "Not murdered by some giant snake."

"Severus, you must! Everything's set in motion, everything's happened how I predicted. You have to go, you're the master of the elder wand."

"Hermione, I am done listening to people telling me what I have to do. I am done sacrificing everything, everyone, I love because some madman has decreed it. If I stay here, by your side, it will change everything."

"But then what? He'll come looking for you, you'll never be truly free," she whispered, watching him. He hesitated, thinking about what was to come.

"If Potter succeeds -"

"He might not, not now if you change thing," Hermione interrupted.

"I am not dying tonight, my Hermione," Severus stated, kissing her passionately on the lips. She kissed him back slowly, sadness filling her eyes. She knew he couldn't stay here, couldn't stay by her side. If she had to act, she would, things must go on.

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry, Severus. I am, truly, but we both know... Severus, go save Harry, please," she whispered, breaking away from the man she loved. He stared at her, as if assessing the situation, as if trying to decide if he should stand up to the one person he loved. Slowly, he turned, his robes billowing behind him. Hermione watched him leave, falling to her knees in hysterical sobs once he was out of sight. She knew what would happen. She'd run the numbers so many times the equations were branded in her mind. Severus would die at Lord Voldemort's hand, Harry would live and the light would win the war.

Slowly, she rose, walking on trembling legs to the Great Hall where Harry's death was being announced. She stood there, numb but not for the reasons Ron thought. As Harry revealed himself to be alive, as the war raged on, a familiar scent filled her nose. Sandalwood mixed with smoke and mint. She turned finding herself face to face with a masked Death Eater. He stared down at her, grabbed her wrist and yanked her from a wayward spell.

"Severus?" she whispered, her voice low.

"My Hermione," he replied, sliding the mask off. Hermione nearly fainted with relief seeing his eyes, his face.

"How?" she asked, staring at him, her mouth hanging open in awe.

"A miracle," he whispered, pulling her to him, kissing her for a moment before they were forced to return to the battle, forced to fight for their lives in a war in which they'd only ever been pawns. A war, in which they were now the king and queen, no longer controlled by anything save their love for each other.