Hermione had been numb when she found out about her parents. It was in a letter from the Australian Ministry. They had made a deal to have her muggle parents checked on occasionally while she solved some major arithmancy projects they had. (It was a long convoluted story but Hermione's skills in Arithmancy far surpassed any NEWTs with the almost 3 years she had added to her studying in 3rd and 4th year.) The Australian Ministry found out about her parents hours after they had passed. Hermione had had to receive that missive at a large Order dinner and keep a straight face all while she was broken inside.

But the weeks had passed, months now, and the guilt and hopelessness grew. That night at the Astronomy Tower she had been overcome with heartache when, after the feast, she got to the Head Girl dorm room and had thought about how excited she was to tell her mother about it. The reality of the war had hit her like a train. Death had already claimed the only family she had and she wouldn't be the last to suffer. So many people had already been lost. The attacks on muggleborns and sympathizers had grown more frequent, there were more people not returning to school, and the Ministry was teetering dangerously between the dark and light.

The Head Girl and resident know-it-all had wept for hours by herself in her empty rooms. Rooms that felt too big and too lonely. She was spiraling. A mental breakdown that she tried to mitigate with occlusion. But it just resulted in her at the tower contemplating what was worth living for. Completely disassociated from logic and reason. She felt like she was watching herself from nearby as she stripped off her robes and tie. Dropping her wand next to them was far easier than it should have been. Sitting on that railing despite her fear of heights would have been impressive in any other circumstance.

The view had been so heartrendingly beautiful. The sky was clear with a sliver of moon surrounded by stars. The cool breeze around her had dried her tears. It was a beautiful night to die.

She had thought a thestral had hit her midair when the dark form had enveloped her. But his scent, spices and santal and something green, had flooded her senses. This man couldn't die, not because of her. Her magic had flared out in desperation and had slowed their descent.

Professor Snape's empathy and care that night had surprised her. But it had also cemented in her heart that he was on their side. Hermione had always vehemently defended the professor even when everyone doubted him the year prior during Dumbledore's faked passing. The Professor had been dealt so many bad cards in his life and was still somehow able to offer her his own brand of support. He didn't pry or pawn her off onto anyone else. That's when she continued her work on the ritual. It would be her contribution to the war effort. Save the great Severus Snape from the Dark Lord's clutches so he could fight openly on the side of the light. To do that she needed to get rid of his Dark Mark and ensure he wouldn't die in the process.

The book of ancient magic had been heavily warded and kept behind one of the bookcases in the Black Family library. The only person who had seen it aside from her was Harry, for good reason. There were many involved rituals in it that would be considered dark in modern times. But Un Anima Duo had been more than promising.

It had taken her couple months to come up with the amended ritual. With the assurance that she didn't care for her survival, it made it easier to consider the bonds and make sure they died with the caster. There was a second blood ritual that would purify the recipient of any dark magic and that had been enmeshed with the original ritual with a focus on curses that left physical evidence.

Finding out Professor Snape's magical production had taken a few tries and well timed traps set with the help of some 3rd years who traded their help for Hermione doing their homework for a month for the detentions they would accrue with the Potions Master. Ultimately his power sat at the same level of Dumbledore and Voldemort. It meant that her likelihood of survival would be incredibly unlikely.

Hermione had triple checked the ritual. Had performed a smaller, even more modified version of the ritual with Crookshanks and allowed for her core to fully recover before she chose a day to execute her plan. She had been meticulous leading up to it. Greeting her friends and giving more convincing excuses. If she hugged them harder or held them longer they didn't notice. She had spoiled Crookshanks with his favorite foods and toys. Hermione had let herself spend a bit more time with her friends now that she felt she would be contributing to the greater good.

Then the day of reckoning came, she bid them goodnight and snuck out of the Gryffindor common room. After setting up the ritual room she had summoned with the Room of Requirement, she headed to the Dungeons. It was well past curfew and Hermione worried that she would lose her nerve if she had to slow down and make sure she wasn't caught. So instead she had disillusioned herself and bolted down the numerous stairs, hoping the adrenaline and endorphins would prepare her for what she must do.

She was able to catch Professor Snape off guard. It had been terrifying but she knew that like Harry, he wouldn't let her die. Especially after he had saved her that night at the Astronomy tower. So taking him involuntarily seemed to be her only option.

When everything was ready, Hermione had sat next to the unconscious form of her professor and thought that he looked far too old and ragged for his age. The years had been so unkind to him. His life had been so unkind. If anyone deserved a second chance it was him. She recalled how his body had accepted her magic so smoothly as they fell. It was like he consumed her for a moment and the darkness in her heart had broken free from the walls she had pushed them behind to dissipate into the air.

There was something in the ancient spell book that niggled at her memory whenever she thought about the melding of their magic but she refused to look into it. The comforting presence of his magic was similar to Harry's. What that meant, she didn't want to know.

So she had done the ritual. It had been more painful than she could have ever imagined. For a moment she thought she had botched the whole thing but then she watched the darkness disappear from the prone Potions Master. Relief flooded her and she succumbed to exhaustion and waited for oblivion.

Hermione found herself in the abyss of her occluded mind. She didn't know how long she had been that way. When she disassociated, time passed differently. She did recall having spoken to Professor Snape in her mind library again. There was a residual dread of forgetting her parents but when she called up the memories a door to the library appeared and they were all where they were supposed to be.

There was still a tinge of dread that poked at her. Accompanied by the liquid-like feeling of magic that wasn't her own gliding by her. It was comforting, spicy, and familiar but she couldn't quite place it. It nudged her again, a soft insistent caress and the library started to fade away.

When Hermione floated into consciousness she was aware of only two things, her exhaustion and her disappointment. So much for killing two birds with one stone.

Midday light illuminated the hospital wing as her eyes took in the vaulted ceiling then down to her surroundings. The curtains were drawn around her for privacy. However when she looked to her left there was Harry, head down on the bed with his hand wrapped around hers.

It hurt to look at the handsome dark haired boy. His glasses were askew and his hand felt hot against her skin. She had been gradually pulling away from him, away from all their friends. The grief and guilt were all consuming and she hadn't wanted to drag them down with her. She could count on one hand how many whole days she had spent with her two best friends since the beginning of the year.

She knew that her two friends, and the other Gryffindors and even Luna would have gladly been a shoulder to cry on. But to do so would have been to admit her failure to them. The failure to protect her own parents. If she couldn't protect them how could she be trusted to protect anyone in this war?

"Hermione!" Harry interrupted her deep thoughts as he threw his arms around her, kissing her cheek, forehead, and temple. Then he held her at arm's length and shook her, "Why did you do it? You promised me that you would forget about that ritual. You nearly died!"

Harry looked like he had been crying and was on the verge of doing so again. He pressed his forehead to her's and whispered, "What would I have done without you, Hermione? I need you."

"Harry," Her voice was rough from disuse. Before she could continue, Harry brought his lips to hers and held them firmly together. She felt his tears fall from his cheek to her own. There it was, the soft velvet feeling of his magic, tinged with something fresh like petrichor, wrapping around hers. It was so inviting and comforting that she didn't realize how she kissed him back, deepening the kiss. But a nudge of dark liquid heat prodded her mind and she pushed him away.

"H-hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Harry said, looking embarrassed and growing more flushed by the second. "Don't be mad. I'm just so relieved.

"It's ok, Harry, it never happened. I'm the one who should be sorry. I did the ritual despite the conversations we had about it. I just wanted to help Professor Snape. I owed it to him– Wait, where is he?" Hermione suddenly realized. She vaguely remembered hearing his voice but she didn't know if it was a dream or a memory.

"He's fine. He looks great honestly. But he's tired after everything you did. He's across the room in his own bed," Harry told her, looking a bit ashamed about something that Hermione had no clue about.

"Help me stand, Harry," Hermione flung her legs over the side of the bed and gingerly stood up, her vision swirling around her.

Harry grabbed her forearm and pushed her back into bed. "You shouldn't get up, Hermione. They said your magical core was depleted to almost nothing. You were lucky to be here at Hogwarts when it happened. I'll tell Madam Pomfrey you're awake. Dumbledore will want to know too."

Hermione paled, she had forgotten about Dumbledore. She hadn't come up with any contingency plans because she thought she would be dead. The Headmaster would be furious that she took his best spy from him. Snape. She felt that dark warm prod at the edge of her being. His Magic.

Suddenly, the curtains around her bed were flung to the side and there was the Potions Master in all his glory. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she rapidly took in every part of him. He looked younger, healthier, almost like he was glowing. Pair that with his inherent confidence and intimidating presence, he was like a dark knight appearing when most needed. He had no robes and was in his shirt sleeves and black trousers. For a moment he looked her over and looked relieved. But then his demeanor changed. There was something he didn't like.

With a stride he was at her bedside in a second, fisted her hair and looked her dead in the eye, "Legilimens!"

"You shouldn't get up, Hermione. I'll tell Madam Pomfrey you're awake. Dumbledore will want to know too." Potter's voice traveled across the room.

She's awake.

Ignoring his bare feet and the coldness of the stone floor, Severus crossed the room and tore the curtains open. His eyes took her in, her curly hair, her reddened cheeks, her wide chocolate eyes. Severus wanted to hold her, he wanted to feel her magic envelope him again. He'd let her magic consume him in a raging fire. She was alive, she was herself. Why did he care so much?

A pit shoved itself into his throat when he took in the proximity of the two Gryffindors. Potter had a hold on her bicep and the other held her hand as he sat on the bed next to her. Jealousy flared up inside of the Potions Master and he hated it. Without thinking he strode to her, grabbed her hair more roughly than he should and forced her to look at him. "Legilimens!"

The library was as neat as they had left it the last time he was there. The door behind him opened and he turned. Hermione strode past him, once more in her full student kit of robes. Rather than making her look younger, they looked out of place with her mature visage. A desk appeared in the middle of the room that resembled his own and she sat primly in what would normally be his chair.

Once settled she looked at him with a neutral expression on her face. She held her back straight and didn't seem at all fazed that he was in her mind again. They stared each other down and the jealousy and frustration that had welled up moments before dissipated.

"I will not lock you in this library so do not ask me?" Severus said, a nod to their previous encounter.

Hermione studied him. When Hermione didn't respond, Severus tried another tactic, anger, "Do you not have anything to say for yourself? You attacked me and forced a ritual upon me!"

"You're welcome," She had the audacity to smirk at him.

He closed the space between him and the desk, towering over her, "You insufferable witch! Are you proud of yourself? You could have died!"

"You of all people should have realized that was the plan. I've told you as much the last time you found it fit to enter my mind," There was a tinge of bitterness in her voice.

"I did not save you from killing yourself for you to go on some fool's quest to rid me of the Dark Mark!" He was seething. Her lack of care for herself was stabbing at him.

"It wasn't a fool's quest! I succeeded!" Hermione stood and glared up at him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, "At what price Hermione? Blood, your soul, your life? I am not worthy of any of that."

"Severus Snape, you shut your mouth! Without you we wouldn't have survived this long! Without you we wouldn't be making any headway at all. If Dumbledore wasn't such a manipulative unforgiving arse, everyone would know you were and are a hero!" She raged at him.

"Stupid girl! What do you know of the deals I have with Albus? Did it not occur to you that I had to willingly take the Dark Mark? I chose the dark. This double life, the dangers I face now, are penance, it is retribution. It is more than I deserve." Severus pushed her away and stepped back, panting. "Who are you to judge my sacrifice after what you've just done?"

Hermione shut her mouth, glowering. "Another dead mudblood won't make a difference."

"Do not say THAT word!" Severus roared. His chest was heaving as the silence stretched between them.

"Dying would have saved you from the worst part of the curse. Being bonded to me. It was the only part of the ritual I couldn't modify. I will never be able to draw from your magical core the way you will with mine, but we are still bound." Hermione looked away and slouched into her chair again.

"A single bond in exchange for removing every other curse upon me is a small price for me to pay, Hermione," Severus said slowly. "The life debts, the vows, every long term curse is gone from me. The guilt has more than halved without those things no longer weighing upon me. You gave me mercy I never asked for, and didn't want."

"Call us even then," Hermione looked at him defiantly, "this in exchange for saving me at the tower. Obviously, I didn't want to be saved then either."

The fight left him and he made his way around the table to stand in front of her seated form. He brushed a curl away from her face, making her breath hitch. "I'll stop you every time you try. You better get used to being alive."

The way she looked up at him made his heart skip a beat. He would blame it entirely on the new bond were it not for his previous thoughts the night of the Astronomy Tower. Damn him for suddenly redeveloping an appreciation for the fairer sex at the completely wrong time.

"Dumbledore will be angry," She stated, turning away from him.

"His years of planning have been completely derailed thanks to your act of kindness," the last few words dripped in sarcasm. "I plan to do what I can with the Order but I am not only compromised, I will be targeted."

"Lucius Malfoy can play spy in your place," Hermione replied instantly. "Merlin knows he has a lot to make up for. And now that you don't have to go back to that bald headed snake nosed sycophant with an oral fixation, you'll be relatively safe. Voldemort won't attack Hogwarts again, at least not yet."

He stared at her, the corner of his lip cocking with the colorful description of the Dark Lord. Severus could tell she was deflecting from her own lack of value for her life by focusing on the greater good. Everything was so heavy and even he was growing tired of the recent events. They both needed time to process and see the repercussions of what she had done. "You'll have detention every Saturday for the rest of the year. We will attempt to deconstruct this ritual. I may be…thankful…for the outcome but it is disconcerting to have a ritual forced upon you without being able to double check the work put into it."

Hermione had the gall to look bashful at the idea of her forcing herself upon him. Her cheeks flushed and she worried her lip with her teeth. He couldn't stop himself as his thumb came up and pulled her bottom lip from between her teeth. It buoyed into place now plush pink from the attention. He felt the heat from her magic flaring up. I want to kiss her. The thought took him by surprise, thrusting himself from her mind.

Severus hit the stone floor, smarting his bottom at the force of it. The door behind him burst open as Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey appeared. Everyone froze in place when the glowing bluish white light of a patronus ran through the room.

"You Know Who is looking for Snape. Spinner's End is ablaze. Death Eaters headed to Hogwarts. They know about the passage to his quarters."