A/N

Hello everyone.

It seems I may have angered you all with my last chapter. I barely received a response and I don't know if that is good or bad. As such I was really nervous about this chapter and took extra time working on it. I feel that it is a good precursor to the intensity that is soon to come.
Anyway, thank you to everyone who did read, give kudos, reviewed, and subbed. I truly appreciate you all.

I know I took longer to post this. I really don't want to disappoint any of you by posting a super short unedited chapter just to post, ya know.

I hope you like this update.

Happy Reading!

CW: self pleasure

Dumbledore had fully implemented his plans for Hogwarts to act as a haven and a military base. All the aurors against Tom and his followers were now residing in the castle for increased protection and to aid in the new training regimen. The headmaster had considered the Order's suggestions, and nearly all the seventh and sixth years had volunteered to train. At the same time, the fifth years were assigned to coordinate evacuation efforts. The rest of the students tried to keep themselves occupied, entertained, or stayed close to their families.

Hermione, true to form, threw herself into strategizing. During the Order meeting following the announcement of Hogwarts as a refuge and the cancellation of regular classes, she had presented a daily training schedule. Like everything that she did, it was meticulously planned for efficiency and organization. It was unanimously adopted by the Order, after an adjustment for a rest day and half day on weekends. By the end of the first week, it was in full swing.

The intensity with which the Gryffindor Know-it-all was training was impressive and concerning. Harry and Draco had already shared their concerns that she was overdoing it because of what happened with Snape. But they didn't want to get in the middle of the fight between the formidable witch and wizard. He was loath to admit that he almost preferred that everyone seemed to be more interested in Hermione's progress than his. Not having the pressure to be the absolute best he could be, with the bar set so high by his friend, he was able to focus more.

The Great Hall, once a place of feasts and laughter, now buzzed with the activity of strategic planning and training exercises. The clang of dueling spells echoed through the corridors, mingling with the comforting smell of breakfast. Despite the underlying tension, there were moments of camaraderie that offered a brief respite from the looming threat of war.

Harry would be lying if he said the schedule wasn't working them to the bone. It started early at six in the morning with morning exercises. Following breakfast were the morning training sessions which consisted of group strategy training, defensive magic, morning break, and a larger section focused on offensive magic. Lunch would arrive to the relief of everyone training followed by the afternoon training sessions. These consisted of one-on-one dueling practice, a break to heal injuries, and then an afternoon of flying and aerial tactics. Before they were excused for dinner each trainee had to complete the daily physical fitness tests.

Most students were then done for the day and left to eat, recuperate, and have personal time for whatever they wished. Others like Harry, Hermione, and Ron continued into the night with specialized training which included advanced dueling, ward casting, and healing techniques tailored to each trainee's skill set. By the evening, most trainees were safely in bed, resting for the next day. However, the golden trio and a few others who were considered part of the core members of the Order would have a final debriefing on the progress of the war before they were freed from their obligations at nearly 11 at night.

The days were long and hard. The first week had resulted in a few breakdowns and some volunteers pulling out. But the combined efforts and fierce determination of Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Neville, Luna, and some of the younger aurors spurred many to take the training seriously. While nothing was mandatory, everyone was starting to feel obligated to do their due diligence. The increase in attacks on muggles and neutral parties reminded them every day that they had to prepare for the worst.

With the significant changes to their daily lives, Harry had not been able to talk to anyone at length except for those he shared a dorm with. But even then, he was usually too tired to talk about anything by the end of the day. Once Harry got his bearings he sent Luna a message to meet him, they were overdue for a conversation.

Walking to the Room of Requirement had been a very different experience than any previous time he had taken the same path. What would have been a quiet stroll up the stairs on a previous Saturday had been punctuated with aurors and professors patrolling, whole families walking by, and tense groups of those who had chosen to be soldiers.

Harry paced the expanse of the ritual room, wringing his hands anxiously. His hair must have looked frightful with how many times he had nervously run his hand through it. It had been two weeks since he was last in this room. Part of him wondered why he had summoned such an uncomfortable place for what would already be a tense meeting.

He recalled that night when Snape had severed his bond with Hermione. Things had been strained with everyone, to say the least. It had shifted something in Hermione that resulted in an unfeeling, cold, and calculating demeanor. As much as he wanted to check on her, he felt it wasn't his place to pry. Harry had attempted leaving notes for her or sending them via owl or house elf but they were all left unanswered.

"Hello Harry," Luna's voice had a sing-song quality as she skipped into the room and spelled the door shut behind her. She looked up at the ceiling and took in the ritual room with a note of interest. "The room has never shown me this before. How pretty."

Luna meandered about the room, taking in the engraved walls and the stained glass windows. Harry observed the younger girl and realized that she had become quite pretty. Her eyes had always been striking when matched with her pale skin and hair. But her face had lost its youthful fullness and was replaced with more austere angles. When she turned to him and smiled it was like a light went off. When did Luna become pretty? Well, she's always been cute, if a bit odd. But I'm a bit odd. She can be pretty. I mean with hair and eyes like that.

Harry was roused from his internal monologue by the sound of Luna giggling softly, her cheeks pink. He remembered that Hermione had mentioned Luna was a legilimens and felt his face flush at the realization that she had heard his thoughts just now.

"You have very pretty eyes too, Harry. And I quite like your hair. At the moment it reminds me of a species of cockatoo." She bashfully covered her mouth as she giggled some more.

Harry was feeling hot all of a sudden. Trying not to grow anxious he attempted to redirect them to the intended conversation. "Uh, thank you, Luna… I just wanted to ask you some questions."

Her eyes seemed to narrow slightly as she made a noise of acknowledgment. But she didn't say anything, instead, she summoned a couple of chairs and a tea service on a low coffee table. "Have some tea and biscuits, Harry."

Harry settled into one of the chairs and made himself a cup of tea. Luna mirrored his movements, humming softly to herself. She glanced up and caught his eye when she settled into her seat. The affection in her smile was quite obvious now that Harry had been warned of her feelings for him. Feeling exceedingly awkward, he gulped down his tea, hissing as he burnt his tongue. The joyful laughter that erupted out of his blonde companion was giddy and pleasant. She hastily conjured him a glass of cold water and handed it to him.

"You don't need to be nervous Harry. I'm still Luna. The Luna you know." She smiled at him reassuringly.

Embarrassed at his anxiety, Harry took a deep calming breath. "Alright, well Luna, you must already know what I'm going to ask you but I will say it anyway. I need you to remove the bond between Hermione and me."

Luna met his gaze unflinchingly before calmly answering, "You know I can't do that Harry. I wouldn't if I could."

"But why? I doubt Hermione would have asked you to take an unbreakable vow, so it wouldn't harm you to remove it. Don't you want her to survive the war?" Harry pleaded. He moved to kneel before the Ravenclaw and took her hand. "I don't want anyone else to die for me. If Hermione loses her soul then I would never be able to survive the guilt."

"You shouldn't feel guilty for other people's decisions, Harry. Hermione has dedicated herself to fighting with you until the end. We all have. I want you to survive because you deserve it and because this war cannot be won without you. That's what Hermione wants too," Luna sighed, finally showing some remorse, "I tried to talk her out of it Harry, I did. But back then, after what happened to her parents, she wanted to make sure she did everything in her power to help you win. This was her solution."

Harry stood abruptly and began pacing. "We can find another solution, Luna!"

"Hermione made her decision and I am grateful for it. No matter what happens you're going to make it through the final battle and I'll make sure I do too. I love you, Harry. I have for some time and while I know you may never return my feelings, that doesn't mean I won't do everything possible to make sure you live. Even when it requires me to leave you and Hermione bound." Luna was resolute. It felt like a door being locked to keep Harry out.

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He had always seen Luna as a quirky, endearing friend, but now her calm certainty and the depth of her feelings for him were taking him by surprise. He could see the determination in her eyes, a reflection of the same resolve that had carried them through countless battles.

"You love me?" He asked. She met his gaze and blushed brightly. Her pale skin was now awash with a pretty pink flush that Harry thought suited her well and made the pit of his stomach fill with a comforting warmth.

"I won't say it again, Harry." The blonde replied, shaking her head as if she were trying to refocus. "I will talk to Hermione. Or try to, she hasn't been in the mood to talk to anyone since Professor Snape broke their bond."

He nodded sagely, remembering the surprising ritual that had taken place in this very room. After Snape had gone Hermione had been inconsolable. Her magic had flared up so hot that he and Draco had to cast shielding charms. Then, to everyone's surprise, Hermione became a ruthless and domineering sergeant in the army they were training. Snape, for his part, made it his mission to never be at the castle for very long, volunteering instead, to chaperone the families seeking refuge in the castle.

"They love each other. I think even without the bond," Harry was surprised to find that voicing it out loud didn't hurt him as much as he thought it would.

"Professor Snape and Hermione have a natural affinity." Luna was once more sounding dreamy.

"Affinity? Like soul mates?" Harry asked, feeling what little hope he had left, die.

"Soul mates aren't real but the origin of the idea comes from affinity. Those with affinity are not always romantic partners. They also don't necessarily have to act on the affinity. Think of it as the two of them being incredibly compatible. There is a strong foundation there that would allow a companionship to flourish, but if they never act on it they are free to be close or not and love whoever they wish to." Luna set her teacup down and looked at Harry thoughtfully.

"So it's like they have more potential to work out than a relationship created without an affinity?" Harry thought hard about the pair. They were both introverted, book smart, quite ruthless, and stubborn as oxes. Both were also fiercely loyal and self-sacrificing to the point of detriment. The way Hermione and Snape had looked at each other and seemed to share whole conversations without a quirk of an eyebrow or a crinkling of a nose spoke of how in sync they were.

"We have an affinity for each other, Harry," Luna said softly. "I would have acted on it sooner but Ginny is one of my closest friends. Then of course you started on Hermione."

Harry felt terrible. He had always had a soft spot and affection for Luna. She was a comforting and reliable boat in the storm of his tumultuous life. When he spent time with her there were no expectations, no high stakes, just trust and warmth. He and Ginny were opposites at times which ultimately ended their relationship. "I'm sorry, Luna. I'm sorry I couldn't see."

Luna smiled at him softly, "Don't worry Harry. You've been swarmed by nargles for most of the time we have known each other. They inhibit the inherent magic in us. Don't you know?"

Harry couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from quirking up in amusement. Whatever this thing with Luna was, it would have to wait to be explored.

"I'm going to go now, Harry." The Ravenclaw stood and took Harry's hand in hers to squeeze it gently before she turned on her heel and left him alone. She's always doing that. Saying something incredible and then leaving me to figure it out on my own.

He was going to challenge Hermione to a duel when this was all over. Of course, she would create the most grueling training schedule known to man and also excel at it to the point of making every able-bodied man, woman, and child in the entire castle feel inferior. Draco grumbled in his head as he continued his end-of-day mile as part of their physical fitness regiment. The Slytherin glanced back and could see his father and Lupin, of all people, gaining on him. It was a small consolation that some of the other Order members had joined in on the training, to prepare themselves, and weren't faring much better. Draco had a feeling his father was regretting his decision to participate as a show of solidarity with the Order.

As he turned back he could see the tell-tale bounce of Hermione's ponytail as she raced ahead. She had lapped them all about 7 minutes ago, slowing down as she finished up her assigned running. Draco could recognize that Hermione had become a beautiful woman as he watched her golden hair shining in the setting sun. He hadn't been lying to his godfather that if she weren't already spoken for he would have liked to court the intelligent muggleborn. Over and over Hermione had shown her compassion, loyalty, and unerring need for justice in a way that Draco could admire and learn to cherish, given the chance. Her singularly focused determination was admirable and concerning. As far as he could tell she wasn't talking to anyone except when necessary and only about the war.

His face returned to a neutral position when he remembered what his godfather had done. Witnessing how the bond was broken and feeling the errant magic it expelled had left Draco feeling sick for days afterward like he was bathed in bubotuber pus that clung to his skin. If he felt that as a bystander then he could only imagine what Hermione and his godfather were going through. Of course, the two stubborn idiots were doing their hardest to appear unmoved all while exuding such strong waves of anguish Draco was surprised that Dementors hadn't arrived thinking their leaders had descended upon Hogwarts.

As Draco finished his run and headed back to his dorm to change before dinner and evening lessons, he watched Hermione. Draco couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow as he watched Hermione push herself to the limit. Her transformation into a determined, almost ruthless leader was both impressive and heartbreaking. He remembered the night she had woken them, her eyes red with tears and her voice barely holding back the pain. That was the moment he knew a part of her had been irrevocably changed.

He didn't think he would ever forget how she sounded when she realized the bond was broken. They eventually had to dose her with a Calming Draught and escort her to her rooms while levitating her. Both he and Harry hadn't wanted to leave Hermione alone but were promptly kicked out when she woke in the middle of the night.

He was being watched. Even in slumber, he could feel it. Draco had grown accustomed to being a light sleeper when the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters had taken residence at Malfoy Manor. He lost count of the number of times he woke in the middle of the night to Fenrir or Dolohov watching him from his bedroom door. It was a scare tactic to keep him in line, and it worked.

So when Draco felt eyes on him again, he jolted awake. Blinking, he could make out the silhouette of Hermione. Dark and flickering because of the candlelight. She was standing at the end of the sofa he was lying on. Across from him on another transfigured cot, Harry was stirring.

"Hermione?" He whispered cautiously. She was standing still as a statue. "Are you alright? Harry and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Not liking the way she looked half-shadowed, Draco lit his wand tip. She was dressed in a dressing gown and muggle pajama pants and shirt. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red from crying. Draco sat up just as Harry woke from the influx of bright light.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was rough with sleep and worry. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer but looked around the room as if she were looking for someone else to appear. When she found nothing, she turned back to them, flicking her eyes between them. Her eyes were already watering with new tears. The girl's voice cracked as she asked. "Where is Severus?"

"He's probably down in the dungeons." Draco replied cautiously, "You should go back to bed, Hermione. You've been through a lot and need the rest."

"Malfoy is right, Hermione. You can talk to Snape tomorrow. It would be better for both of you to have some space before you…talk." Harry chimed in.

She was silent, then turned away, taking a few steps toward her room. She paused and said over her shoulder, "I'm going to use the washroom. When I am finished, I don't want to find either of you here. Understand?"

"Hermione, come on, it's the middle of the night!" Harry tried to protest, but the glare that was sent his way silenced him. A hot pulse of uncontrolled magic rolled through the room.

"Yeah, we get it. We'll be gone. But if you need anything, you know how to find us. Come on, Harry." Draco could tell from the steel in her voice that she was serious. After all the turmoil, he decided to choose self-preservation and get out of firing range. Harry was going to protest but stopped at the look of alarm on Draco's face.

Hermione nodded and then passed through the threshold. They listened to the sounds of her walking across her room and closing the door to her bathroom. Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulder and ushered him out. Once they were out in the hallway, Draco warned Harry, "Leave her alone. She needs to work through this in whatever way will work for her. That bit of magic was completely unrestrained. If she had had any intent behind it, we would have been hit with a spell. But it was a warning. Heed it."

"What about Snape?" Harry was eyeing the entrance to Hermione's rooms again.

"I'll see if I can talk to him, but it will have to wait. These two are as emotionally contained as a net carrying water. It might be better to let them work it out in their own time." Draco sighed heavily, mussing his hair. "Night, Harry. We'll have to let the rest of the 'study group' know what's happened tomorrow. Brace yourself."

Draco was still waiting for the bomb to drop and for Hermione and Snape to confront each other. But they seemed to be avoiding any type of interaction or acknowledgment. Any time anyone commented on a change in either of them, a pulse of unrestrained magic would lash out. Eventually, everyone just left it alone. Of course, there was some mild outrage and relief among their 'study group' but no one had time to address the tension once Dumbledore had overhauled the school into a military base.

He rarely saw his godfather. His father told him that Snape was almost exclusively brewing potions for the infirmary or personally escorting refugee families to the school. The only tasks where he would never cross paths with Hermione. It was understandable and juvenile. Snape was looking more and more world-weary. The youthfulness that had been a result of the initial bonding was overshadowed by stress lines and a deep scowl. Hermione on the other hand looked great. She was in better shape than anyone else training, she had cut her hair quite short, to everyone's surprise, and she walked around the grounds with a gait that screamed confidence and power. Something that reminded Draco distinctly of his godfather. But the deadness of her eyes and the completely blank expression on her face were the giveaway to how she was truly feeling. If he were honest he would prefer having to see the two snog each other silly over seeing them heart sick and suffering.

Severus slumped into his armchair at the end of another long day. To say everyone had been surprised that he had chosen to play escort to those seeking asylum was an understatement. There had been actual protests, due to the target on his back, but none of them came from the one person who could change his mind. In the weeks that had passed since he had severed their bond, Severus had not met Hermione's eye or been anywhere near her. Instead, he functioned as a shadow, a bodyguard that was sent where he was needed. He rarely exchanged pleasantries with those he was moving and was even more solitary and speechless when he was brewing potions for the infirmary.

He unbuttoned his coat and tossed it on the sofa with his robes, toeing off his shoes as he summoned a house elf for a tea service. With a grunt, he stretched his neck from side to side and massaged his tense shoulders. As far as he had considered, Hermione would have reacted a handful of ways to the loss of the bond: rage and hatred, rage and forgiveness, and rage and indifference. Severus had hoped it wouldn't be the third option, but it was now the life he was living. If he hadn't already lost his intimidating bat of the dungeons persona, it would be long gone now. Dumbledore had assumed Severus would have led the dueling training but he had no desire to teach students how to kill. He had no desire to teach her how to kill. The headmaster had mitigated his disappointment around the subject when Lupin and Tonks took over as the heads of that department of training. Severus was still at the beck and call of Dumbledore but welcomed the solitude.

Severus stripped and made his way to the shower after finishing his tea. As the scalding water cascaded down his pale body and the suds washed away, he couldn't stop the phantom feeling of Hermione's skin, her body pressed to him, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace. He missed her. He missed being able to feel her magic. The empty void that replaced it felt like poison in his cleansed form. Severus couldn't escape the haunting memories of their brief moments of closeness. The emptiness left by the severed bond felt like a festering wound, one that no amount of potions or distraction could heal. Each night, as he lay in his cold bed, the memories of her touch tormented him, driving him to the brink of madness.

As he stepped out and dried himself off he glowered at his throbbing erection. Scoffing at his stupidity. His love had always overshadowed his lust for the young woman when they were bonded, but without the innocent glow of the bond between them, his baser urges had been plaguing him. Nothing he did would settle his raging need now that he had let his thoughts dwell on her.

Feeling pitiful and horrendously needy, Severus palmed himself as he stood before his bed. Exhaustion after the long day made his mental shields dissolve faster than usual as a fantasy came to mind.

Severus found he had regretted not allowing more to happen between him and Hermione if only to have more tangible memories with her to satiate him. Tonight he replayed their time at the Astronomy Tower when she still hadn't remembered their connection but felt pulled to him anyway. That was the moment he knew he would do anything for her. He recalled how she had so confidently brushed her fingers through his hair and kissed him passionately. In his fantasy, rather than stopping when he had her pinned to the wall, he let her continue.

Severus gripped himself firmly, his mind drifting to a fantasy of Hermione. In his mind's eye, he witnessed a moment of passion that he had never got to experience. He could not stop the groan as his balls tightened. She would have been wet for him, needy. His breath hitched as he visualized her responding to his touch, her body arching against him. He could feel her warmth, her lust mirroring his own. In his fantasy, he would have lifted her effortlessly, pressed her against the cold stone pillar, and taken her there where their story had begun.

"Hermione," He moaned softly as he grunted his release. Panting, he opened his eyes and felt shame overtake him when he spotted his release painting the end of the bed. Angrily, he cast cleansing charms and threw himself into his bed.

But as he lay there, remembering the one night she had slept in his bed and he on top of the covers, his heart yearned. He should have held her when he had the chance. Smothering himself with a pillow he stifled the quiet sob that ripped through his throat. It was closing in on two months since he broke the bond, and broke himself. He growled at his weakness and berated himself. Don't be so utterly pathetic. Would you rather she die just to feel the bond for a little longer? Our priority is Potter. Our priority is keeping her alive. If I manage to survive, I will grovel and plead and beg for her forgiveness and her love. But only then.

Sleep came fitfully for him that night and was interrupted by the sounds of sirens.

The castle wards were being breached.

A/N

Dundundun~! And so the beginning of the end is upon us. Kind of.

Up next a battle.
What do you think is happening?
What do you want to see happen?
I'm very curious about how you all feel about where this is going.

Thank you.