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Chapter Text

Severus Snape took labored steps up to the top of the Astronomy tower, still blissfully numb from the earlier revelry with his fellow Death Eater brethren who had plied him with copious amounts of booze. He had attended yet another revel at the Dark Lord’s behest and another part of his soul had been tainted beyond repair; not even a ‘thank you’ or a ‘by your leave’ from the great mastermind, Dumbledore. Not a thought to how his spy was still a man underneath the layers of black fabric. Severus sometimes wondered how he had even maintained his double agent persona after the debacle of the end of term the year before and in doing so lived another day.

The years were wearing down on him harder than ever as the thrice-damned war sped towards its climax. He was barely‌ past the age of 37 and he felt like a man in his 60s. Severus sighed and reflected on what this new school year would bring. The old loon had some delusion that getting the Potter boy through his 7th year would prepare him to face the Dark Lord. The Headmaster once again disregarded the fact that Potter needed more information than the old man was willing to give him. Severus had no hope for success based on the failure of Mister Potter to think critically, regardless of any prophecies. Who wouldn't be invested in blocking out their sworn enemy if they had a mental connection to them?  Severus scoffed, remembering the disastrous Occlumency lessons with the dark haired angst-ridden teenager. 

Severus snorted as he ‌reached the landing at the top of the Astronomy tower. He didn’t know why he had made his way to the tallest peak of the castle, so far from his quarters. Flashes of the end of the previous year played across his mind as he ascended the last steps, not least of these memories was the price he had paid to break himself free of the Unbreakable Vow he made to Narcissa Malfoy. While he had been relieved to be rid of one of his many vows, the ancient ritual had involved losing a bit of his soul, a minor consolation for ‘the greater good’ he had been told. He tried to ignore the invisible gaping wound left behind in his very being, but it was a constant reminder that his life was not his own. A chasm of darkness that not even a decade of servitude to the Dark Lord had created. 

Minor victories continued when they had successfully pulled the Malfoys into the side of the light. Draco and Narcissa openly defied The Dark Lord, while Malfoy Senior publicly denounced his family and privately became a second spy for the order. How things had changed, though some things remained the same. 

I’ll need to keep an extra eye on Draco this year, as if I wasn’t stretched thin enough already, Severus mused to himself, walking but not seeing. The apprehension around the Malfoys was palpable but not unfounded. However, Severus was relieved to have some actual friends among the Order, most of whom still did not trust him the way Dumbledore insisted they should. 

Every year fate assigned him the role of a silent guardian, regardless of his desires and without the gratitude or even the respect he craved. With a deep sigh, he focused his eyes across the expanse of the tower to look upon the landscape that had brought him peace over the years. Surprise washed over him as he took in a silhouette sitting on the tower railing, legs dangling over the edge, blocking his view of the surrounding forest and mountain range. The cool breeze that passed through the space sobered him. His soreness melted away as realization gripped him.

A student…

out after curfew…

in the Astronomy tower–

sitting on the ledge! 

A memory flashes in his eyes from his 7th year. 

Severus’s instincts spurred him forward. The world seemed to slow down around him. His eyes alighted upon the discarded school robe and Gryffindor tie on the floor as his long legs carried him across the vast landing. A familiar wand lay next to them. He watched the pale hands gripping the railing and then slowly slipping off. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of a young life laid to rest. 

Severus dashed across the space between him and the student, the tips of his fingers touched the ends of her curly hair as she dipped out of his reach. The yell of desperation exploded out of his throat as he threw himself over the railing and tackled the girl midair, wrapping his voluminous robes and long lithe figure around her as they plummeted to the fast-approaching cobblestone. 

Something primal took over. The air seemed to ripple with magic so palpable it felt like a heavy blanket enshrouding them. Circling them in a growing heat that seared across his skin. For a moment the space in his soul was filled with it, the hollowness left by the Unbreakable Vow assuaged. It was almost too hot for Severus but was gone with the next breath. The unfamiliar cloying magic faded. He felt the cobblestones as they landed softly on the ground, though his body was still braced for impact. The night air cooled his sweat-slicked skin. 

Severus couldn’t keep his calm exterior intact in the face of near death and having witnessed a suicide attempt. He panted hard while holding the girl against his body, her face tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder. The faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from the familiar curls which made his heart clench in recognition. He was bombarded with relief at saving her but also confused at why she had even done something like this in the first place.

“Miss Granger,” Her name slipped from his lips, more gently than he had ever spoken it. Severus felt her start to shake and shift against him. A wet spot was slowly growing on his robes at his shoulder. She wept silently. With more grace than he expected of himself after the ordeal, he sat up with the girl still leaning into him. 

“Miss Granger,” Severus gripped her biceps and pushed her back from him, just enough to show her face. Sitting there, under the dark night with this crying woman before him, he felt helpless. It was not just any young woman but one that had an important role in this war. He tilted her chin and made her meet his eye. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them swollen from her weeping. Without thinking he smoothed her hair off of her face while checking for injuries. She was clammy to touch, and gasped at the contact, “Are you physically well, Miss Granger? You can nod if you do not want to speak.”

She winced and her eyes widened with recognition. He couldn’t blame her for being surprised at his compassion. Until this moment he would have thought himself incapable of such tenderness. But when needs were met, here he was. She shuffled away from him, with her broken and dead gaze, sniffling and shivering. Gingerly, he made his way to his feet. She resembled a panicked doe ready to bolt at any sudden movement, fervently glancing left and right as if seeking an exit. Consciously he kept his voice calm and without its usual sharpness, he addressed her, and held out his hand, “Get up, Miss Granger… please.”

Hermione looked at his proffered hand with apprehension then finally reached for it. Her hand was cold in his, small and delicate. She kept her eyes on the ground as she stood. Severus was compelled to keep her hand in his as his eyes swept along her figure, checking for anything amiss. With his free hand, he ran a couple of diagnostic charms, although she flinched as he pointed his wand at her. When everything came up perfectly fine, he ran one more for his satisfaction. But just as he suspected, her magical core was fairly spent. Her fiery hot magic had softened their landing. He knew it was not his magic and he dared not think about the implications of his magic not protecting them. Suddenly she lifted her head, eyes empty.

“Professor,” Her voice was forceful, desperate. “You can’t tell anyone.”

Severus reigned in his righteous indignation knowing that getting angry would only force the young woman further into this shell she had become. It still irked him that she didn’t explain herself. Any guilt for his following actions would be thrown to the wayside as his curiosity won out. He took her chin and forced her to make eye contact, “Legilimens.”

In a moment he was in the most organized mind he had ever slipped into. It was no surprise that it resembled a round library. For every floor-to-ceiling bookcase, there was a door between it and the next bookcase. The details of the room were extraordinary, but he had no time to ponder the skill level it would have taken. He rifled through some of the books quickly, only finding innocuous memories of her times at Hogwarts and with her friends. There were various notebooks of research, an untitled black book that rejected his touch by some enchantment, and a book marked ‘dreams’ that he could not open, though he tried. Severus frowned, pressing against the invisible barriers that blocked his path. They had been warded. 

Was it natural Occlumency or an outside force? The level of restriction was obviously deliberate, but was it defense by a skilled Occlumens? No, there was more. An idea niggled at the edge of his mind but he tabled it for the moment. Furthermore, it was odd that there was nothing from before Hogwarts or during her childhood with her muggle parents. 

Severus moved to one of the ornate cherry wood doors and found it locked. They were all locked, to his dismay. No amount of pushing granted him access to what lay beyond the doors. He wondered for a moment who had taught her occlumency but he would not be surprised if the pragmatic young woman had instinctively organized her hyperactive mind for ease of access. 

He pulled out of her mind with as much care and softness as he could, a stark contrast to his lessons with Potter. The entire interaction couldn’t have taken more than a minute. “Miss Granger. I will not ask you why you felt the need to…attempt…what you did tonight.”

Her eyes widened a fraction with surprise. But the next moment tears spilled from her eyes, quickly followed by quiet whimpering as she tried to stifle her reaction. She looked so young. Maybe it was how broken she sounded, or the re-emergence of his own 7th-year folly, but Severus was compelled to wrap an arm around her shoulders and loosely held her, although his body was tense, unused to physical contact,  “You are already exhausted, Miss Granger. Crying will only make it worse.” 

Severus stood there with the Gryffindor ‘golden girl,’ simply giving his support as she collected herself. The cold breeze of the early morning picked up and he cast a few warming charms for them. He did not attempt to analyze why he was still there, or why he hadn’t yelled at her, given her detention, or even sent a patronus to the headmaster or McGonagall. All he could think about were his own memories of sitting where she had moments earlier, feeling hopeless. He was the one to pull himself away from the ledge in his youth when all he wanted was for someone to understand why he considered ending his life. 

Tonight, he would be that for the girl tucked into his chest, if only to assuage any guilt in the future. Her hiccupping and sniffles waned until she pulled back and whispered a word of gratitude, startling him from his ruminations. With a wave of his wand, her cloak, tie, and wand came down from the tower and into her waiting hands. 

Covertly watching her as she pocketed the wand, he saw the bags under her eyes and the sallowness of her cheeks. Even her wild hair was less voluminous. Her hands shook as she pulled the cloak around her shoulder, bringing attention to her rough and bitten nails. He had missed the welcome feast after he was summoned by the Dark Lord, so this was the first he had seen of the girl since early in the summer at Grimmauld Place. She had looked well back then. Now, she was blatantly unwell.

She was still in her uniform. The short skirt, crisp white top, and sweater vest seemed too innocent when contrasted with the weariness of her face. The witch barely came up to his shoulder but seemed solid enough, rather than frail. She had always been diminutive, compared to the willow-y girls of her year, but paired with her dropped shoulders she looked even smaller.

“Come along, Miss Granger,” He nodded at her and made sure she was following before he turned and stalked towards the castle entrance. Severus wasn’t sure what else to say to the girl. 

Should I tell McGonagall? Probably, but he didn’t trust the witch to give the young woman the proper counsel. Merlin knew it was Gryffindor style to say ‘Buck up, others have it worse’. 

Perhaps the Headmaster? No! Dumbledore may say that he cares about all the students, but everyone could tell he would sacrifice anyone to make sure that Harry Potter made it to the end of this war. A woman? Molly? Madam Pomfrey? Both would no doubt mother-hen the girl to death. Was that not a better option than leaving her to her own devices? Or worse yet, with me?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when the main doors clicked shut behind them. The entranceway was dim but the castle was much warmer than outside. Severus looked the girl over and could tell she was trying to find something to say in this awkward situation. Putting her out of her misery while also forcing himself to make a decision, he spoke in his usual drawl, “20 points from Gryffindor for traipsing through the castle after hours.”

The indignant scoff from the girl was welcomed, a spark of her stubborn personality flashed through before it died down again and her stare was once more lifeless. She nodded in acquiescence. He would blame this on the alcohol he had consumed hours earlier rather than any compassion on his part; he made her an offer, one he wished he had received at her age. 

“Miss Granger, I will not lecture you on what I witnessed tonight. But I will say this, my door is always open to you. I may not be the most outwardly compassionate person…but I know what it feels like to sit on that ledge. I don’t suspect your dunderheaded friends have noticed your suffering. Nor do I think you have confided in anyone else. Your stubbornness and independence can be a detriment in these situations.” She was studying him with an indecipherable expression on her face. He shrugged away his discomfort and continued. “I will not judge you for your reasons. I also will not coddle you. I would, however, listen and speak only when you give me leave to. I do not want to have to check the Astronomy Tower every hour and end up practicing broomless flight again.”

He didn’t know why he tacked on the last joke but didn’t question it when it brought a most satisfactory response. She blinked owlishly up at him before a soft smile lit up her face, kind and full of gratitude. He turned away, not wanting to address the warmth flushing his cheeks. Severus was a controlled man but he was still a man who had never truly received much attention from the fairer sex. But his embarrassment came from realizing he didn’t remember the last time anyone had so genuinely smiled at him. It was unnerving. 

He coughed to cover his embarrassment. This wasn’t the first time the young woman had made him blush, though she would never know, for he would never tell her. The night had been bizarre enough already. “Come along, Miss Granger. I will walk you back to your common room. My duty as Professor prevents me from sending a young woman along on her own, even in this castle, at night.”

“Professor,” Her voice was quiet. The nasally quality of it and her red eyes were the only giveaway to her most recent turmoil. “Is your door open now, sir?”

The Potions Master felt his eyebrow raise in surprise. A large part of him had expected her to never take him up on his offer. 

“I just don’t think I will be able to sleep anytime soon and would like some company,” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

With a sharp nod, Severus led the way to his office, “Very well. Merlin knows what mischief you would get up to if I don’t distract you now.”

His words lacked their usual bite. Severus listened as her hurried footsteps echoed in the empty Dungeon halls, trailing behind him like an excitable shadow.  Contrary to popular belief, his offices were rather warm and cozy compared to the potions classroom and the 7th year labs. Bathed in the light from the wall sconces, warmed by the tapestries and rugs, his office held his comforts, as few as there were.  It would not do to have his book collections or journals dampened by the humid air of those places. Instead, his cherry wood desk sat in the middle of a round room, edged in bookcases. One door led to the classroom on one side and the other door across the room led to his living quarters.

There was a fireplace that he lit with a flick of his wrist, and two plush armchairs facing it at angles. The flames cast twitching shadows across the bookshelves, adding an eeriness that did not dissuade the bookworm from gazing up at the many titles he owned. Even traumatized, the girl can’t keep her eyes off a decent book collection. Seeing her standing in his office, surrounded by his things, it occurred to him that his office bore a resemblance to her mind library–organized, personal, filled with secrets no other was privy to.

With little thought, he summoned a house elf to bring them some tea and biscuits. He hung his billowing cloak on a hook near the door to his living quarters. With a put-upon sigh he gestured for Hermione to handle the tea service,  “Take a seat, Miss Granger. Fix the tea, I will be back momentarily.”

He returned from his quarters with a calming draught in his pocket, in case it was needed. Severus had a feeling there would be more tears shed tonight. She was seated with her hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea, staring into the fire. Next to the teapot, his own cup was prepared. He eyed it before taking a sip, surprised to find it just the way he liked. 

“Three sugars, no milk,” Miss Granger said softly, turning her eyes on him. “You take it every morning like that. Even at Grimmauld Place.” 

He nodded, not sure how to react to her attention. He desperately ignored the warmth that came with the small act of care. Not even Dumbledore bothered to learn how he took his tea.

“Indeed. Thank you,” Severus sipped the tea and lost himself in the hypnotic movement of the fire. Now that they were here, he wasn’t sure what to do. Never one for emotional conversation or sharing feelings, he was beginning to regret his offer. The silence dragged on. Would she speak? Should he? Maybe he should have sent a patronus to another Order member. I am hardly equipped for late-night heart-to-hearts.

“How do you live with the bad things you’ve done to ensure that worse things don’t happen?” She finally mumbled. The question sat in the air between them. Severus knitted his brows together at the implications of her inquiry. 

He pondered for a moment then prefaced his reply with a heavy sigh, “If I were Dumbledore I would say that everything is worth the sacrifice for the greater good. But I am neither the headmaster nor a terribly righteous man.”

She looked to him imploring him to continue. The fire danced in her chocolate brown eyes and unshed tears rimmed them.

“In my experience, if not doing the ‘bad thing’, as you say, results in more pain and suffering to innocents and people I care for, to people who don’t deserve it; then the ‘bad thing’ is a necessary evil. We cannot know the light without the dark, Miss Granger. It is human nature. If one is always joyous, then having not experienced sadness, they will lose their appreciation for joy itself,” It was a candid response, although probably not what the girl was looking for. He had no inclinations to go into detail about the ‘bad things’ he had done and would have to do.

“Does the guilt get easier?” Her eyes found the fire again, her voice softening.

“No, you grow accustomed to it. Then other things become more important than guilt. The feeling joins the white noise of those that once consumed you but have dimmed with time. Never completely forgotten but not as harsh as they once were.” He ruminated over his own guilty conscience. Most old memories had lost their sharp contrast, making the pain more blunt with each year that passed. When she did not follow up with another question, he glanced at her. 

Severus would berate himself for his thoughts later, but the tears that had silently spilled down her cheeks made her brown eyes glassy and bright with the reflection of the fire. When did the know-it-all become a beautiful young woman? He’d not paid her much mind the last few years as the war progressed. But even he could see that she was a few years older than her peers. The time turner? How many years had she added? Her cheeks had the sharp corners of womanhood. She was more shapely now, rather than thin and girlish. You’re a disgusting old man! The girl nearly killed herself! 

“What have you done that has left you so guilty that…suicide…seemed bearable?” There he laid it plainly between them. Back on topic and to the reason they were even sitting there in the first place. His curiosity was begging to be sated. 

She laughed. It started as a scoff, then a giggle, then transformed into body-shaking guffaws that made a chill crawl up Severus’s spine. It was laughter born not of humor but of emptiness. From a hollow pit in her soul that emanated hopelessness. It was the sound of loss and grief, too heavy to bear, wrapped in guilt and self recrimination. He had heard that sound before, in his darkest memories. He had made that sound before. Long ago. 

It was the type of mirth that dissolved as quickly as it arrived. No wonder she had been able to slip off the railing when he hadn’t been able to do it, even at his worst. He had always had anger and spite to fuel him into living. The girl before him could wield wrath like any scorned woman, if Draco was to be believed. But at this moment he doubted that she had a single vengeful bone in her body.

“I obliviated them,” The phrase burst from her and landed like a stone on the carpet between them, blunt and immovable. Severus waited for her to explain further but her eyes were resolutely fixed on the hearth. Her emotionless voice eventually continued. “They don’t know they have a daughter…didn’t know.” 

“You obliviated your parents?” It had been a long time since someone had genuinely surprised Severus, but this young woman had succeeded a few times tonight. Obliviation was extremely complicated magic. Considering who he was talking to, it wasn’t all that surprising that she had managed to cast the spell. But why? “Why not just ask the Headmaster to keep them in a safe house? You can’t reverse that strong of a memory charm. To attempt could cause serious damage.” 

She scoffed and turned her face to him. More tears glistened as they spilled down her cheeks. “Dumbledore couldn’t keep Death Eaters from coming into Hogwarts last year. I thought it would be better if I was the one who took care of them. I thought that them being alive, even if they never knew about me would be a better fate than anything a Death Eater might do to them. I set them up in Australia early this summer. New names, new jobs, new pasts. I thought of everything.”

“There haven’t been any plans concerning your parents since your fifth year,” Severus mumbled to himself. “I was able to pivot all thought away from targeting them in favor of more ambiguous means of intimidation.”

“I know. Dumbledore told me as much when I brought up my worries over their safety. I may not know of everything you have done to help the Order or any of us, Professor. But I did not doubt that you tried to keep my parents safe,” Miss Granger set down her teacup and turned to him. “We spent all our time protecting my parents from evil witches and wizards, we forgot to consider that even muggles can be evil.”

The air grew heavy with her admission. Severus knew that muggles could be evil, he had the scars to prove it and a surname as a reminder. He met her deadened eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, “When?”

“Three weeks before term. No one knows. I didn’t, I couldn’t tell anyone.” Her eyes were downcast as she admitted her secret. 

“Miss Granger,” Severus urged her to continue, “Hermione, what happened to your parents?” 

After another deep breath, she replied, another wave of tears accompanying it, “A mass shooting. They were among 23 who were killed. The shooter gave no reason for why he opened fire, he just did.”

Before he could come up with a response, she stood up and dusted herself off. She cast a quick wandless cleansing charm on herself. “Thank you for listening, Professor. I’ll be going now. I don’t want to impose more than I have already.”

With her brave face plastered on, she left him sitting in his office, speechless. The hollowness in his being crept back in. In her absence, grief prevailed. 

Chapter Text

In the month that followed, Severus found himself completely and utterly distracted. Very few things affected him these days with his years as a spy and his lifetime of hardship. But the dead look in Hermione Granger’s eyes when she admitted that the greatest danger to her parents had not been the evil despot they fought or his followers, but the weapon of an unhinged muggle, left him shaken. From what information he could glean, neither side knew about the deaths of the muggleborn’s parents.

No one in the entirety of Hogwarts and probably all of Wizarding Britain knew of their fate except for Miss Granger and himself. With every meeting with the Order and the Headmaster, he expected the news. Anticipating the somber festivities of a funeral and another example of why they fought the war they were fighting. It never came. He didn’t know what to do about it. The knowledge was eating away at him for some unfathomable reason. Severus knew that he should not be so moved to care. People die every day. He knew that better than most people. 

Severus had begun to watch her whenever they were in the same vicinity. She did not resemble the broken girl who had slipped off the tower welcoming oblivion when she was surrounded by her peers. The spy’s experience alone was what allowed him to catch the moments when the emptiness returned to her eyes. The facade dropped and the light in her eyes would dim to nothingness.

Every night he patrolled the castle and the Astronomy tower. So far he had only caught her out after curfew once. She had walked the empty halls of the castle in the very early morning when the castle was at its darkest and most quiet. He had not made himself known and simply followed her for over an hour until she returned to Gryffindor Tower. 

Miss Granger had not returned to his office. It had not bothered him at first, but as the weeks wore on and more news of crimes against muggles and muggleborns increased, he worried that she may spiral. As was his wont to do, he used more manipulative measures to get some assurance of the young woman’s sanity at dinner one night. 

“Minerva, after all these years I had nearly prayed Miss Granger would cease her incessant verbatim prattling. But now the girl has had the audacity to simply ignore me when she was called on to assist another student. I had half a mind to give her detention but was enjoying the rare silence.” He remarked to McGonagall. 

“Miss Granger, you say? Well, that just doesn’t sound like her at all,” Her Scottish brogue thickened with her indignation. “I’m sure she was just thinking ahead and couldn’t hear you.”

“No, he’s right, Minnie. She’s more quiet now,” Flitwick interjected next to him. “I would credit it to maturity but she actually forgot to do an assignment and turned it in late, without permission! Not an apology or anxious entreaties. Not that she would have needed it, one infraction after a perfect record her entire schooling wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t think the lass is sleeping from the looks of her eyes.”

Vector nodded and chimed in, “Let’s not get too hasty and think this is something ‘wrong’ with the girl. I daresay the war may have finally caught up to her. She may have realized that grades aren’t all that important when she’s been fighting to survive since she was a first year.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” It was Sprout’s turn to join the conversation, having made her way to their end of the head table, hovering over Vector's shoulder. “She’s unfortunately been in danger from the moment she entered the wizarding war. On top of it, she’s Harry Potter’s best friend. If mortality were the reason for her to start acting like a normal student, then it would have happened sooner. She killed a mandrake the other day by using the wrong harvesting method! I thought I was hallucinating!”

“It seems you have your work cut out for you, Minerva,” Severus glanced at the now worried witch. Her concern mirrored in his eyes if anyone dared to notice. He summoned his snarky tone, “I won’t hesitate to give her detention if her unsatisfactory behavior continues.” 

“Well, I daresay, I had no idea. She has been as studious as always in Transfiguration,” McGonagall was thoughtful as she looked out over her Gryffindors, no doubt seeking out the girl. “But then again she has always found the class to come quite naturally. No matter. I will check in with her. She had spoken to me over the summer about her desire to be an animagus. It will be a perfect time to ask after her well-being. Thank you all for bringing this to my attention. Were it any other student I doubt we would be so worried.”

With that, the deputy headmistress stood and left the table. The other professors continued their light conversing while he felt the tension in his back loosen marginally. Minerva is far more suited to see to Miss Granger and her needs.

Two weeks later

The knock at his office door stirred him from his brooding. The last few days had been a whirlwind as the Dark Lord increased his attacks and put pressure on him to release the locations of the Order’s safehouses. The excuse of them all being secret-kept was losing its value. After the last two summonings, he had barely made it back to Hogwarts alive. 

The knock at his office door came again. He didn’t have the energy to pull his frock coat back on and instead he rolled his sleeves down, not wanting the damned mark to be on display to a student, regardless of how many already suspected he had one. 

Severus waved his office door open. To his surprise, standing in his doorway was Miss Granger. She panted like she had run there from a great distance. Her eyes looked slightly crazed and her hair was sparking with barely controlled magic. 

“Miss Granger, what-”

“Shut up!” The girl snapped. She had cast a wandless silencing charm. When Severus tried to release the spell, nothing happened. He reached for his wand and was surprised to not find it up his sleeve. 

He looked up at the same time that he felt the same pulse of fiery hot magic that had stopped their descent to the earth over a month ago. That empty part of his being once more filled with its warmth. It distracted him from noticing that she had his wand. Anger flashed through him and he lunged for her as she strode toward him. 

Ungrateful wench! My wand?! Ambushing me in my own office!

Another spell and he was frozen in place. 

“I’m sorry Professor,” Hermione whispered, voice trembling. “But I know you won’t agree to this on your own so I will have to force you.” 

Desperation suffused her being, and her eyes flickered with a hint of unhinged determination.  The crazed look in her eyes was tinged with some remorse. She raised her wand to his forehead then darkness came over him. 

—---------

“Animam communicati, animam rapine,” 

Severus slowly came to awareness just as an ache settled into his bones with the coldness of the stone floor along his back. He tried to move but his limbs would not obey.  He was restrained,  his arms above his head and his legs slightly spread. The room was bright, an assault on his corneas as he forced his eyelids apart. His eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light shining down from an intricate stained glass dome above him. His vision swam as he tried to remember what happened, but the memories were fragmented and hazy. 

“Animam acturam, donum vitae”

His memories rushed back to him. Granger! The Potions Master tried to sit up but didn’t budge. The silencing spell was still in place. The only thing he could do was shift his head back and forth, catching a glimpse of the girl up above him with her hands pressed into his pinned forearms. 

A pulse of her magic rolled through him. He willed his jumbled thoughts to focus. This has to be old magic. But what was she doing, why would she go to such lengths? Granger’s voice grew with vehemence as she chanted. Her skin felt hot on his, burning him.  

“Acci tu, commo eu, hoc memento!”

Magical winds buffeted them as the burning sensation raced through his limbs, his very essence, down to his core and into that space where he had lost part of his soul. If he could be heard, his screams would be deafening. The pain was unbridled. He forced his occlumency shields up to save his sanity. Is this how I die? Some botched ritual at the hands of a crazed student?

Another pulse of magic and it was over. The room was eerily still and quiet.

Severus gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air. He turned to his side and gagged as awareness came to him. There was no pain. No heat. All enchantments on his person had been lifted. 

Thud

He whipped his head around. Granger lay where his hands had been pinned, having fallen to her side. Her body glowed slightly but she was breathing, barely. The brunette mass of hair upon her head was wind-tousled and frizzy, sparking with residual magic. 

There was evidence of tears on her face, sweat dripping down her forehead and neck. The sound of his labored breathing filled the room. His eyes glided down her form, still processing what was happening. At the sight of her forearms, he jerked forward, taking her wrists in his hands.

There were three long cuts down the inside of each forearm. Starting at just below her inner elbow and ending just above her wrist. It was then that he noticed his own forearms covered in blood, his shirt sleeves folded up above his elbows. He was covered in her blood. 

Next to her, their wands laid side by side. With practiced ease he cast a patronus, not looking at it as he spoke his message and sent it to Dumbledore. He didn’t know where they were but he needed to get Miss Granger to Madam Pomfrey.

While he waited for a response or aid, he pushed Hermione onto her back and ran diagnostic charms. The cuts on her forearms were her only physical injuries. But her magical core was depleted. More than the last time. More than he had ever seen in anyone alive who wasn’t a muggle or squib. 

Severus cursed under his breath. He needed Pomfrey’s help to stabilize her core. But for now, he pressed his wand to her wounds, stitching up the gashes with practiced precision. 

That’s when he noticed. Beneath the blood on his forearm, his skin looked too clean. His heart began to race. It can’t be. With shaking hands, he cast a cleansing charm on himself.

The clear, unblemished skin of his forearms greeted him. 

He gasped. The sound of his blood rushing in his veins drowned out everything around him. Severus’s dark eyes snapped to the limp form of Miss Granger and in the silence of the room his deep voice stuttered, “W-what have you done?”

Chapter Text

The wizard had been able to stave off his shock long enough to make sure Miss Granger was stable while they waited for help. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to spontaneously wither away, he allowed himself time to take in this new development.

Severus sat rubbing at his arm and casting various spells and curses to see if the Mark would come back. When cutting himself to check under his skin, he had only succeeded in adding more blood to the marble floor, he finally accepted it. The evidence was right there. The Dark Mark, his tether to the psychopath, was gone. Not only that, but other dark curse marks had faded into nothingness. Even the Unbreakable Vows he had made over the years were no longer tugging at his consciousness. He felt stronger, healthier, younger than he had felt in years. It made him weep. 

That’s how Dumbledore found them. Miss Granger was in stasis on the ground and Severus Snape lying next to her, arm over his face as he wept softly. He had pulled his sleeves down out of habit, feeling naked without his layers.

“Severus, my boy. How did you come to be in this place? If the Castle hadn’t seen fit to help me locate you, your patronus would have had me blasting through the walls,” Dumbledore stepped forward and Severus felt him kneel in the space between himself and the girl. Hermione. The witch who has taken all the darkness from you has a name! He mentally chastised himself. He couldn’t think of her as a mere student anymore. What have you done, Hermione? 

The dark-haired wizard sat up and rubbed at his face as the Headmaster ran his own diagnostic spells. Finally, Severus was able to look around at the bright and open space. It was a large empty room. The floor was white marble with black and gold wisps dancing across it. The ceiling was made mostly of a dome of stained glass that depicted a woman surrounded by books and archways. It did not move like the others, like it in the castle. The walls were the same stone as the rest of the castle, though without the wear and tear of time and school children’s touches. 

“Her magical core is nearly depleted. I’ve cast the best spells I can but you and Poppy will have to tandem brew the necessary potions. I can handle the final incantations and magical transfer to aid her recovery, but we must move quickly,” The great wizard stood, levitating the girl next to him, “Can you stand?”

“I’m fine Albus. Where exactly in the Castle are we?” Severus asked as he made his way to his feet. He pocketed Miss Granger’s wand and followed the Headmaster’s lead. They trekked across the room, through an archway, down a long dark hallway that let out into the same hall as the Room of Requirement. “That was the Room of Requirement?”

“One of the rooms it can become. It seems to be an ancient ceremony room according to the little information the Castle has granted me. I will see if the other Heads know anything once Miss Granger is taken care of,” The Headmaster raked his eyes over him and it made him nervous. There was a steeliness to his eyes that no sparkle could cover. It hurt him to see that the Headmaster thought he had done something to one of his students.

Severus felt naked walking the halls without his billowing cloak and frock coat. Down below they could hear the castle inhabitants waking and going to breakfast. It was a small mercy that they weren’t likely to run into any students on the short path to the hospital wing from the 7th floor. Another fainting student would not go over well with the Healer.

The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of activity. Madam Pomfrey had jumped into action immediately upon seeing the girl’s diagnosis herself. Soon Severus was in the small potions lab next to the Hospital Wing, tandem brewing with the healer. 

There had only been 2 other instances where they had to heal someone’s magical core, and that had been himself and the Headmaster; the damage to their cores had been less substantial than the young woman’s. Both of them are quite powerful wizards and, while he didn’t doubt the brilliance of the girl, he didn’t know if she would have the capacity to have a quick recovery. 

By noon the three of them had stabilized her and her core was already rebuilding itself. 

“Come, come, we should eat and then we can start picking apart what it is that has our star pupil bedridden and our resident Potions Master looking his age rather than 20 years older,” Madam Pomfrey gave him a look as she conjured a small dining table and summoned a house elf. Once the table was laden with food, Severus found his appetite. If he were honest with himself, he had never felt so ravenous. He tempered his reaction to the food, although his mouth was watering, and filled his plate. Once they were all making some headway with the food, it was finally time to sort everything out. 

“Do I really look different?” He asked when he caught Dumbledore and the medi-witch analyzing him. 

“My boy, I don’t think you’ve ever looked so healthy since I’ve known you,” Albus combed his fingers through his beard thoughtfully. He conjured a hand mirror and held it out to Severus who hesitated before taking it. “Look for yourself.”

Severus Snape almost didn’t recognize himself. The permanent bags under his eyes were gone. The lines of his face were shallower, although not smooth enough to call him a young man, but younger than his nearly 38. His hair was thicker and had a sway to it that it hadn’t had since he was a young boy. There was a fullness to his face that rid him of his sallow cheeks and gaunt complexion. 

“Headmaster,” Severus’s voice, shook slightly as he put down the mirror. “There is a much more significant change that has happened.”

It took him a moment to finally pull his sleeve back up, worried that he had hallucinated the disappearance of the damned mark. But all that shone was clear pale skin. He breathed deeply in relief. 

“Oh, Severus!” Madam Pomfrey gasped as she threw her arms around him in a motherly embrace. “Oh bless Merlin and Hecate and whoever else rid you of that burden.”

Severus tensed at the enthusiastic show of affection. He had reluctantly allowed the medi-witch to hug him over the years–she had patched him up enough times to know the risks he took— but today he found himself tentatively returning her embrace. 

While the Healer wept with joy, the Headmaster looked contemplative. Severus met his eyes and nodded to him as he held his arm out. “I’ve cast as many counter curses and revealing spells as I know. There is nothing left of it. But you are free to do what you need to, Albus.”

Severus tried not to read into the flash of frustration in the sparkling blue eyes. He recounted the events that led them there as a distraction from the Headmaster casting spells on his blemishless appendage. He omitted the previous encounter with Granger at the start of the term, not seeing it as relevant, for now. 

“She has called upon old magic. Magic I will need to research. Where and when she heard about it, let alone learned it is anyone’s guess. As we all know Miss Granger’s thirst for knowledge knows no bounds,” The Headmaster finished his inspection with a sigh, “The mark is gone with no remnants. It may be callous to say, but with you no longer marked all our plans in this war must be reevaluated. If Tom felt the Mark disappear…we must be prepared for his retaliation.”

The Headmaster’s words were foreboding, heavy with the new stakes set before them. Severus nodded, “You’re right. But we will make do, as we always have.” 

Dumbledore looked at him, the scrutiny apparent in his sharp eyes. Then he stood, his demeanor once more that of the friendly Headmaster, “Please let me know when Miss Granger has returned to the land of consciousness. She has much explaining to do.”

With that parting comment, Albus left the wing mumbling about ‘contacts’ and needing ‘to owl someone.’ Madam Pomfrey nodded and summoned a house elf to clean the remains of their lunch. Then she disappeared into her office, leaving him alone with the girl as the only other visitor of the ward.

Severus sagged in his chair, the tension finally melting off of him. He hated that the old man could make him feel like a student again, one that was being reprimanded. Shaking his head, he stood and took up his vigil next to Hermione’s bed. The Headmaster was right, now that the mark was gone he wasn’t going to be very useful as a spy. A part of him was relieved of that fact, but he knew that Lucius would now take over his old duties. 

The Dark Lord may have also felt the removal of the mark, which would mean that Severus had a large target on his back. He wouldn’t be able to do anything outside the castle for the foreseeable future. The dark man scoffed at himself. He should feel guilty that he could not help the war effort to the extent he did before, but he didn’t. Whatever he had owed the world had long since been paid. If anything, he was owed some selfishness. That’s what he told himself at least. 

But that was not his way. He had been too entrenched in the war since the first go around. So rather than rest completely, he began brainstorming contingency plans to bring to Dumbledore. He owed that much to the war effort. A small noise from the bed in front of him caught his attention. 

Severus found himself drawn to Hermione, as she whimpered in her sleep. He felt the need to comfort her. Less cautious with her than he had been the weeks since he had tumbled off the Astronomy Tower with her, he pushed an errant curl behind her ear. Her whimpers stopped as she turned into his palm. There was a level of awe and admiration and something else deep inside that he felt for the petite woman. He knew his miraculous health and the loss of his mark were her doing. 

“What have you done, Hermione? Old magic? Blood Magic? What price did you pay?” He implored the sleeping girl who did not answer. 

—------------

Hermione was floating in an abyss. There were fragments of memory weaving around her, glimpses of her life and her thoughts. All of them were mangled and distant. 

Please just let me die. Let him take all of it, he deserves to live.

She floated for what felt like an eternity until a door appeared before her, bathed in warm light. One of her library doors. Then her mind library surrounded her. She took a seat in one of the armchairs, feeling nothing except a faint curiosity. Hermione watched as the wisps of memories and feelings siphoned into the room through the other open doors. Before her, they knit themselves into the books and scrolls that housed them. 

Then she waved them towards their designated shelves, reorganizing her mind and growing more lucid by the moment. As each bookcase filled, another door to the vastness of her consciousness closed. Everything started to feel more real. 

When all the doors were closed, Hermione expected the bookcases to be neat and full. But one had an empty shelf. She ran her fingers along the space trying to recall what normally fit there. 

A bit of scrap paper caught her eye. When she had it at her fingertips, it seemed to multiply into endless sheaves of paper that lifted themselves and then shot off around the room. Some squeezed their way beneath the doors to disappear outside. Others inched between books and crammed into corners. Hermione, now frantic, looked at the paper in her hands that showed her parents looking down at her when she was a baby. A sob ran through her as she hastily tried to collect the other pieces of memory that were escaping. 

She tore through the room, stuffing the pieces of memory she found into her pockets desperately. The ones that escaped her grasp funneled out of the room through door jambs and keyholes. Without thinking, Hermione blasted one of the doors open and gave chase into the black abyss. 

Mum! Dad! I won’t forget. I’m the only one who remembers! I’ll always remember! Don’t leave me.

 __________

Severus was at a loss. Hermione was thrashing around in bed, screaming and crying. He tried to be gentle as he grabbed her by the shoulders and stopped her from toppling off the bed. She had been whimpering and mumbling for hours as Severus sat at a chair near her bed, failing to focus on the papers he was grading. Madame Pomfrey had been called away to the greenhouses, leaving him to watch over the young woman.

Her fidgeting had begun to get more pronounced when she started screaming. It was a desperate sound that made Severus want to pull her into his arms and assuage her pain. He could not quell the sudden need to comfort her. The young woman’s skin was hot to touch and tears were spilling out of her closed eyes. 

The warmth of her magic, now familiar to him, filled the room as she lost control.

“Dobby!” Severus called out and the bleary-eyed elf appeared before him. His eyes widened with alertness as he took in the scene.

“Potions Master called Dobby! Is Missy Granger needing help?” The Elf had jumped up on the end of the bed looking concerned. 

“Dobby, alert the Headmaster that Miss Granger is awake, then tell Madam Pomfrey to get the newest batch of Calming Draught from my lab. Make haste!” With a sharp crack, the house-elf was gone on its errands. 

Severus pulled out his wand, and despite knowing the risk of waking her when she was in a magical sleep, he cast a rennervate.

She shot up into a sitting position, her magic exploding outward in hot waves that should have burned him, but instead settled into him like a warm embrace. The hospital wing was not faring well and wandlessly he threw up shielding charms around them, keeping her magic directed inwards. He held her up with an arm around her torso and looked into her eyes. 

“Granger!” He called through gritted teeth, “Granger, look at me!”

She stared straight ahead. Her hair whipped around her as her magic swirled. He grabbed her chin. “Hermione! Come back!”

When her light brown eyes met his, he tumbled into her mind. 

The library of her mind was in shambles. The bookcases were splintered and singed. Books and scrolls were scattered about the room. Two of the five doors were blasted open into a darkness so black it felt like it sucked the air right out of him. The other three doors were still locked shut, although they appeared battered by the chaos of whatever happened in her mind’s library. 

Suddenly, from one of the dark open doorways came a vision of Hermione running up to the door next to him. Her hair was wild, her face streaked with tears. She banged on the door with her fists, crying uncontrollably. This version of her didn’t seem to notice his presence as it sent spell after spell at the door. Then, she lifted her hands, hair sparking wildly, and blasted the door inwards. Then she bolted through the door and out into the cloying darkness. 

He tried to follow her but was met with an invisible barrier that kept him in the library. Severus was growing frustrated and increasingly more worried. The vision of Hermione returned and went through the same process with another closed door. And just like the others, it was blasted through and she was running into the void. With only one door left, a sense of foreboding pervaded his senses. 

When she next came back through the library, Severus grabbed hold of her. She startled into awareness and then fought him. 

“No! Let me go! I have to find them!” She fought hard and managed to scratch his face with her hands. Hermione was screaming hysterically, but he trapped her against his chest using his arms as a cage. Severus tightened his grip and the fight finally drained from her body.  

“Please sir, I can’t forget them. Don’t let me forget them! Mum! Dad!” Hermione wept, clutching at his robes and looking at him imploringly. “All the memories are hiding from me, running from me! Please help me! Help me!”

“Hermione, please you have to calm down,” He spoke softly to her, rubbing her back in an act of comfort. “The more you want to find them the more they will escape you. Do you understand?”

Severus had no idea if what he said was true but it did the job of calming her down just enough for him to loosen his grip. She sniffled and looked up at him with glassy eyes. A stiff nod followed, then a moment of deep breathing. When her eyes opened again, she looked tired, resigned. 

“Can you lock me in here when you find them? I don’t want to leave them.” She requested. The young woman avoided his gaze as she looked upon the carnage around her. Severus took her by the chin. 

“I can’t do that Hermione. Your memories of your parents aren’t gone and they won’t leave you. I’ll make sure of it. But you cannot stay here,” Severus cupped her cheek, ignoring the guilty part of him that knew he shouldn’t be so liberal with physical touch even if it was in their minds. “Will you sit for me? I know you have already given me so much but this will be my only request, since you forced the others on me.”

The corner of her lip curled up slightly. Her brow furrowed then smoothed with understanding, a sigh of wonder slipping past her lips, “It worked?”

She stepped back and brought his forearm to her eye level. Like his corporeal body, the mark was nowhere to be found. To his surprise she pressed her cheek to it and wept softly, “Oh thank Merlin, it was worth it.”

His heart clenched at this small woman who, even in the midst of her own turmoil, still showed relief and care for him. Severus’s traitorous heart beat rapidly. He cleared his throat. “Sit, Hermione. I will take care of the rest.”

And so, Hermione sat on the repaired armchair that Severus conjured up. He didn’t know how long it was out in the real world but it took a few hours, with direction from Hermione, to reorganize and fix her mind library. As he did so he found the scraps and sheafs of memories with her parents. With the greatest care he collected them onto one shelf. 

Exhausted beyond belief, but satisfied, Severus sat down next to Hermione. The armchair now transformed into a small sofa. He took a moment to run his eyes over the impressive and now immaculate library. The books with her treasured memories were collected and tucked into their own shelf. 

He felt her hand on his and turned to her. She did not meet his gaze. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus let her hold his hand, relishing in the feel of her fingers against his, as if she contemplated threading them with his own, “I should be thanking you, Hermione.”

She looked up then, “You’ve been calling me that since you got here.”

“It’s your name isn’t it?”

“May I call you Severus?”

“Hermione, after what you’ve done, after whatever great price you had to pay to that ritual, I will grant you anything you desire,” He meant it. His whole being was practically singing to him to grant her every wish. 

Hermione stuttered trying to speak while her countenance paled. She reeled back suddenly and vehemently commanded him, “You need to leave. You shouldn’t be here!”

She shoved him off the sofa, her voice rising with her panic, “No, no, no! I was supposed to die so that the bond wouldn’t take! I was just supposed to give you the magic! Only the magic!”

With those parting words, Severus was thrust out of her mind and found himself practically on top of the girl. She was completely unconscious again. His exhaustion made his limbs feel heavier than lead. Despite the desire to move away from her, for propriety's sake at the very least, his exhaustion pulled him into slumber. 

When Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey burst into the hospital wing they found the Potions Master asleep next to the young woman as they clung to each other, faintly glowing. 

Chapter Text

“Harry Potter!” Dobby appeared before a sleeping Harry, startling him from his bed. 

The boy scrambled to shove his glasses onto his face as he greeted the elf that appeared, “Dobby! What’s wrong? What time is it?”

“Harry Potter’s friend, Missy Granger is in the hospital wing! Dobby thought Harry Potter would want to know!” Dobby announced, fidgeting and looking worried. 

“Yeah, she said she didn’t feel well yesterday so she went to the hospital wing. I figured she was still there since she missed classes,” Harry said, perplexed by the anxiety rolling off the elf. 

“Missy Granger had made a great sacrifice for the greater good. Dobby knows, the castle has whispered to the house elves. Mister Harry Potter should be with her!” Dobby took his hand and pulled him out of bed. 

Harry felt worry bubble up in his chest, accompanied by a sinking feeling of dread, “A sacrifice? Did she do a ritual Dobby?”

“Yes, Harry Potter’s friend called on the old magic. The Potions Master is keeping the Miss company while she sleeps. But we house elves can tell, both of them have changed. We thinks the ritual went wrong,” Dobby spoke a mile a minute and dragged Harry down the stairs of the boy’s dormitory. Some of the other boys called out complaints about the noise but no one stopped Harry as he followed the elf. 

At the confirmation of the ritual being held, Harry had gone pale. They had agreed they wouldn’t try it. That it was too dangerous. Damnit Hermione!

2 Months Before - Grimmauld Place

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Hermione stood at the door to the room he shared with Ron.

He looked at his best friend. She had been quiet this summer but he couldn’t blame her. The war was truly rearing its head. They had nearly lost Dumbledore at the end of last year and more and more muggleborns were going into hiding. Hermione had assured him that her parents were safe, but the less people that knew where they were the better. Harry knew it took a toll on her and had gone out of his way to spend more time with her in the Black library this summer holiday. 

“Of course, Hermione. Library?” He asked, giving her his arm. 

Hermione smiled at him softly and placed her arm at his elbow. They had always been affectionate but had taken more comfort from each other this summer than any other. Harry didn’t want to think about how fond he was of Hermione. He had noticed recently how pretty she had become. Things with him and Ginny had all but dissolved after the fight they had at the end of the year. It had rubbed him the wrong way when Ginny had accused him of not trusting her because he wouldn’t tell her about his trips with Dumbledore. She hadn’t conceded that he was protecting her, instead conflated it to him seeing her as weak. It offended him quite a bit that she could think so lowly of him.

Harry took a deep breath and inadvertently inhaled the vanilla and cinnamon scent of Hermione’s shampoo. She was as lost in thought as he was as they made their way to the library. It was moments like this when he could observe her without being noticed, that Harry indulged his interest in her. If he could have smacked his fourth year self to some sense and have him ask her to the Yule Ball, he would. He and Ron had both been so blind. Though he had been more so than Ron, who was already feeling some type of way about Hermione based on his jealousy of Krum. 

Ron. Ron still held a torch for Hermione but didn’t do anything about it. If anything, he thought they were fighting more as tensions rose as the war got closer to home. Ron had thankfully taken his breakup with Ginny rather well. The whole family did. While it was awkward at times, he and Ginny were amicable. 

By the time they made it to the library, Harry was lost in thought about his growing attention to his bushy haired friend and the horrible timing. Hermione let him sit on the sofa in front of the empty fireplace as she warded, silenced, and locked the library doors. 

“Kreacher,” Harry summoned the surly house elf . The old elf had grown less grumpy recently and hoped it was a result of his conscious decision to be kinder to the old housekeeper. “Can you bring Hermione and I some tea and biscuits?”

Soon they were both halfway through a cup of tea with a large book spread to a marked page and Hermione looked nervous. 

“I found a spell, well a ritual really,” Hermione started as she pointed to a page titled ‘Un Anima Duo’ “It’s old magic from what I could tell, dating back to at least the founders.”

“What does it do?” Harry asked, interested but unable to decipher the Latin and her notes. 

“Well you know the, um, theory I have about the horcruxes,” Hermione looked at him but quickly glanced back to the page.

“About me being a horcrux?” Harry asked, brow furrowing. It was a sound theory that Ron had thought was ridiculous, quickly brushing it off. But Hermione and he had talked about it at great length during their afternoons in the library. It would explain a lot of what Harry had experienced in connection with Voldemort.

“So if we are right and there is a part of his soul in you, but your soul is still whole, then what needs to be removed or killed is just that errant soul fraction. This might make it possible to keep you alive while we kill that scrap of Voldemort. It is an easy target because it isn’t connected to anything,” Hermione grew more confident as her explanation veered into facts and logic, her comfort zone. 

“This spell would connect your magical core to another person’s. Your core is where your magical essence is stored and where it replicates, similar to bone marrow and blood cells. We’ve already concluded that you may have to die for the soul fraction to be removed and destroyed. Your body may come to harm, but as a wizard your magical core will try to save you until it cannot pull any more magic. But if your magical core is connected to another, then yours would feed off the magic of that other person and begin to rebuild. With your core still ‘alive’ because of the connection, your soul would stay anchored and your body would be able to heal.”

Harry’s brow scrunched in concentration as he tried to process what she was saying, “So it’s like magical transference?”

“In a sense, but magical transference needs both parties conscious and willing and it can only be used for a certain amount of time. In a sense, transference is sharing magic collectively to perform more powerful acts of spellwork. Connecting your core to someone else is mostly permanent and based on this book, willingness is not a factor that comes into play. It is a relinquishing of your magic to another, with no benefit to your own core. Or conversely, the taking of magic to supplement oneself without a cost to you. But the success of the ritual would rely a lot on how powerful the magical core you’re connected to is. We all deplete our magical cores whenever we do magic. But normally our reproduction of our magic far exceeds our output. To die would bring your magical core to near emptiness, and without magic to replicate upon, your body would output the last of its magic trying to keep you alive.”

“So it will siphon magic from the other person to fuel its replication. That would drain the other person.” Harry said, looking to Hermione for confirmation. 

“Yes, which is why the person you would pair with would have to be someone your equal or more powerful. If your core pulls too much away from them they would die,” she said softly. 

 “I can’t do that Hermione. It’s too great of a risk,” Harry said immediately, not wanting to put anyone else in danger. 

“Harry, think about it. We all know it has to be you to kill him. But you can’t do that if a part of his soul still lives. We’ve exhausted all other options. We can’t stab you with a basilisk fang, or cast fiendfyre, or cut you with the sword of Gryffindor. But his horcrux has to be destroyed,” Hermione responded vehemently. 

As always Hermione was right. But he wasn’t going to take the risk unless absolutely necessary, “We have to destroy the other pieces first. And if I have to do it then it has to be Dumbledore or someone else.”

“Harry, there is a requirement of the ritual that has to be met for it to work properly. Unfortunately, Dumbledore doesn’t meet it,” Hermione took Harry’s hand, “The partner has to be of the opposite sex.”

Harry didn’t like where this was going. Hermione turned back to the book and flipped a page.  “From what I could tell, this was originally a very severe form of marriage bonding, usually coupled with more amorous bonds simultaneously. It was a way to ensure the couple lived long lives together, willingly or not. 

From what I could find, because it’s such an old magic, the people who used to do it had magic that was more potent, concentrated. But centuries have passed and for lack of a better word, magic is diluted, even in the purebloods of our generation. They only had to worry about their core weakening, but it would give them time to find their injured paramour. Most would also find partners who had the same level of magic as them to ensure no one was overtaxed. 

Think of it as their magical core containing 10x more magic than ours do now. There is a reason wizards like Merlin lived far longer than the ones today. They naturally had more magic to keep them alive, thus it would take more to kill them.” 

“So, unless the person I make this bond with has more magic than me, we could both die?” Harry didn’t want to think about what Hermione was asking of him or herself. 

“There are calculations in this book to measure your magical production. Consider it as if Merlin, at the beginning of wizardom, scored 500. The average witch or wizard today scores between 60 and 150. With Dumbledore and Voldemort scoring in the 200 to 250 area. Before you ask, I already measured our output. Mine ranges from 100 to 110. Yours, as of the end of last year, was in the 100 to 110 range as well.” Hermione concluded. 

“You want to do the ritual with me, don’t you?” Harry said softly, his eyes searching hers. He took her hand in his and held it tight. “Hermione, you can’t ask me to sacrifice you.”

“We all have to make sacrifices, Harry. We can do the ritual, and it will be there and ready whenever it is needed. I would always know from the moment we do it that you won’t die as long as I am alive.” She urged, wrapping his hand in hers. “There isn’t a lot I can do in this war but if I can keep you alive until the end, you know I would do it. I know you wouldn’t want to be bound to me, but I’m sure I could modify it. Have the soul bonding aspect relinquished when the core sharing is triggered. Or remove the soul bonding part completely. I already have a ton of ideas on how to modify the ritual and mitigate the risks a bit–”

“No.” Harry stood up and put space between them, cutting off her rambling. 

“Harry, please,” Hermione pleaded, standing with him.

“No. Forget it Hermione. We will find another way to get rid of it. I’m not going to risk losing you or for some botched ritual to force you into a bond with me.” Harry looked down at her and took her hands in his, hoping she could see how he felt about her, “I can’t lose you. Never you.” 

There were tears in her eyes but she brushed them away angrily, “Fine. I just wanted to help.”

Harry watched her stalk towards the door and slash away her wards. He caught up to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her into his chest. “Hermione, you have always been by my side. That’s all the help I need from you. Having you and Ron and Ginny and the Order is enough. We can stop him. I promise.”

“You can’t die, Harry.” Hermione sobbed, “I want to make sure you have the best chances.”

Harry kissed her temple and rubbed her back. “I know. Forget about the ritual, for me?”

She pulled back enough to look in his eyes, “Okay.”

Severus woke up with the vision of the hospital wing ceiling swimming before him. He could hear voices and after a moment could make out the vehement whispering of Potter and the Headmaster. What is Potter doing here? 

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. Besides feeling more exhausted than he had in a long time, he didn’t feel any pain. If anything, he felt groggy and quite hungry, a foreign feeling for him in the past few years. Confusion was followed by flashes of memory. That’s when he bolted upright. 

“Severus? Good, good, you’re awake. Harry, go get Madam Pomfrey will you,” Dumbledore asked as he stepped towards the Potions Master. But then there was a wand in Severus’s face and the angry eyes of Lily Evans on the face of James Potter.

 “What did you do to her? How could you make her do that ritual!?” The Boy Who Lived actually looked a bit intimidating when Severus was wandless and depleted.

“Harry. Drop your wand this instant,” Dumbledore commanded. Severus could feel the shimmery touch of the Headmaster’s magic, a reminder of just how powerful he was. 

“I told you what it was, Professor! Why would Hermione do the ritual for him unless he made her do it?” Potter shot back, although he did lower his wand.

It took Severus by surprise to see Potter talk back to the Headmaster but it didn’t seem to faze the older man. 

“Harry, we will get to the bottom of this. This isn’t the same ritual. You recalled that Miss Granger had mentioned modifying the ritual? She must have succeeded because Severus, as far as I know, was not in any mortal peril, a requirement to trigger the soul-tethering. He wouldn’t need the assistance to maintain his magical core so the bond should not have been activated,” Dumbledore was calm in his explanation although Severus knew he was missing something. 

“You know what ritual she used?” Severus asked, whipping his head between the two on either side of his bed. 

“It’s some old bonding ritual that connects magical cores but Hermione modified it. She wanted to perform it with me this summer but I refused to put her life at risk,” Potter said, glancing at the bed across from them. Hermione lay there, looking serene. 

“A bonding ritual? A bond doesn’t rid the pair of dark magic, Albus.” Severus was stunned. A bond. She said the bond shouldn’t have taken. She expected to die. 

“Harry, I know you are worried about your dear friend, but until she wakes up we will not know exactly what she has done and why. Please refrain from attacking your Professor, and I shall let you stay with her until she wakes. Do you understand?” Dumbledore looked at Harry above his lenses.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Hermione, unconscious on the hospital bed, depleted but otherwise looking peaceful. Her skin was pale and her breathing slow but steady. A storminess brewed in his visage as he finally brought his attention back to his professors.

“Yes, sir.” Harry’s shoulders slumped before he turned to Severus, “I’m sorry, sir.” 

“She may be a swot but I do not wish death upon Miss Granger, Mister Potter,” Severus said, trying to emulate his usual snark but it fell flat. “We won’t get an explanation if she were to leave us now. I intend to make sure she stays in the land of the living. What she has done has changed the trajectory of this war more than you could ever imagine.”

Surprisingly, the boy didn’t respond. He nodded, and walked to Hermione’s bedside. Severus unconsciously clenched his hands as he watched the bespeckled boy take her hand and kiss her knuckles with reverence. The feeling bubbled up in his chest but he turned away, refusing to name it. 

In the recesses of his being he felt a warm and comforting presence that soothed his ire. A warmth that reminded him of the searing heat that had saved them after the fall from the Astronomy tower, although this felt more like a caress than a shroud. The calming effect of it was immediate. Hermione? The magic flared slightly then continued to soothe him. Exhaustion caught up to him again as he was lulled by the ebb and flow of warm magic. He dreamt of a locked library. 

Chapter Text

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 exponentially. 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. 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 is a beautiful night to die. 

She had thought a thestral had hit her midair when the dark form had enveloped her as she finally relinquished her hold on the railing. But his scent; spices, 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. Many rituals in it would be considered dark in modern times. But Un Anima Duo had been more than promising. 

It had taken her a couple of 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. Ultimately his power sat at the same level as 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. She greeted her friends and gave 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 to complete her plan.

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, collapsing to the floor waiting 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 school 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. 

“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 hers 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, fisted her hair and tilted her head to look him in the eye, “Legilimens!”

—---------------------------------

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

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 if it meant being close to her. 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. 

She sat for a moment, eyes closed, taking deep breaths as if she was collecting her scattered emotions. Her eyes, at first scrunched in irritation, smoothed to a relaxed state. Once settled she looked at him with a neutral expression on her face that contrasted the deep furrow of her brow as she walked by him. 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 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. 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.”

Chapter Text

Snape was pacing back and forth while Harry sat in the bed next to her. She and Harry had changed into muggle clothes for ease of movement if they had to jump into action. He was dozing next to her with his head on her shoulder and an arm around her waist.

Hermione’s eyes were glued to Professor Snape. He looked strong, in his prime. He’d kept his distance after rushing out of her mind but she could still feel his hand in her hair and his thumb on her lip. If she was feeling the bond, although faintly, then there was no doubt he was too. It didn’t help that she had always had a soft spot for the surly man. From quiet admiration that transformed into a minor crush a year earlier when he had insisted on running one of her detentions instead of Umbridge. 

His pacing was making her nervous. As selfish as it was, she had not wanted to deal with the consequences of her reckless heroics. The fallout of losing their spy and what it would do to Snape’s place among the Order were things she had refused to think about. When the patronus had delivered its message, the silence that followed was deafening. But what came after put the fear of Merlin in her. 

Dumbledore couldn’t hide his rage. He had barked at the three of them to stay put. Had even pulled his wand on Snape and commanded him, as if he were a student, to stay there and out of the way. The pulse of his magic had made her feel sick. It felt like molasses filled with nails, scraping along her being, stinging and sweet. Harry had gone pale next to her and Snape had stumbled. Even Madame Pomfrey had backed away. It was the first time Hermione could see how Dumbledore was one of the most feared wizards alive today.  

Dumbledore took the medi-witch with him and left the wing, the doors closing behind them with a glow that told them he had warded them inside. 

The sun had just set when they felt the castle rumble. Professor Snape had rushed to a window to catch a glimpse of anything, despite being on a completely opposite side of the castle as his quarters. 

“Damnit, Albus! I should be down there," he growled.

“It’s a bit reckless isn’t it? Sending Death Eaters here when everyone is here, even Dumbledore isn’t away this time,” Hermione tilted her head in thought. Her ear brushed against Harry’s hair, reminding her of his close proximity. She had wanted the comfort but knew that her suspicions of Harry’s feelings for her had been confirmed with the kiss, or at least complicated by it. 

Snape looked over at them and sneered, “You’re one to talk of recklessness.”

She raised her brow at him but didn’t respond. 

He huffed and sat at the end of the bed across from them. His dark eyes looked her up and down. Stopping for a moment where Harry’s arm was around her waist and his head on her shoulder. Snape turned away, looking at the warded doors, “I don’t understand how he can sleep with all this going on.”

“Oh, he’ll be furious when he wakes up. But I didn’t fancy being caught in the middle while you go for each other’s throats with no way out of the hospital wing,” Hermione scoffed. She patted Harry’s hand on the bed as if to appease her unconscious friend. 

“You knocked him out?” Snape raised a brow, smirking at her, “Hermione, if I didn’t know you were a Gryffindor I might assume you were one of my snakes.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is.”

Hermione tried not to look surprised at the admission. Silence followed for a while, she was not sure how to react to this rather complimentary version of her dreaded professor.

“I can feel it,” Snape said, looking away with a grimace, “The bond. I can feel it like a constant throb in the back of my head. The jealousy eats at me.”

“I can feel it too. Like the brush of something against my arm or my cheek. You know, I always had a positive regard for you, Professor. You can ask the boys. I’ve always defended you. The bond seems to have only strengthened those feelings,” Hermione admitted. There were no tell-tale signs that she expected, like the consuming need to be near him. No overtly sexual thoughts or musings about him. It felt tame.

Snape looked at her for a long moment. He seemed to be hesitating. She noticed the hands on his thighs were clenching and unclenching, “Hermione, could you remove Potter from your person before this bond makes me remove him myself?”

“It’s that strong for you?” Hermione’s eyes widened. Her mind started racing. Maybe I have botched it. At least a part of it. If anyone was supposed to end up with the stronger bond, it should have been me as the caster. “I’ll find a way to free you from the bond, sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘sir’. I owe you a debt and I’m feeling things no professor should feel for his student. Do not remind me of our abhorrent age difference while I am resisting the urge to blast Potter into oblivion for touching you,” Snape growled. His hands shook in their clenched fists as he glowered down at them.

“I’m 21 so it’s not that bad of an age difference, really. 17 years is only 2 years larger than my parents' age difference. Not to mention you’re a wizard and have a much longer life expectancy,” Hermione said, as she gently pulled away from Harry. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood. She wasn’t at all sure why she had said that. 

“Sit down, Hermione. From my knowledge, officially, you are 17.” Snape didn’t seem that surprised that she was older. The spy was the only one Hermione had suspected noticing her overuse of the time turner. “Regardless of how many years you have added with your overzealous time turner use, the news of Severus Snape bonded to one of the blasted ‘Golden Trio’ won’t fare well even if we manage to survive this godforsaken war.”

“I told you, I will find a way to break the bond. I never meant for you to be stuck with me. I never wanted to make you indebted to me,” Hermione crossed the room and stood before him. She was itching to touch him. Her magic was reaching out to meet his. The closer she got to him the more she wanted her magic to mingle with the dark liquid heat of his. Proximity seems to increase the pull of the bond. 

Standing as close as she could without touching him, she met his eyes. It surprised her to notice that his crooked nose was now straight. A scar at his temple, that she had noticed one summer when they were all cooped up at Grimmauld place, was gone. Even the pits that adolescent acne would have caused had vanished. She could admit to herself that he looked younger and handsome. Like the weight of the entire wizarding world had been lifted off his shoulders. But the way he looked at her now, told her that she was the new burden, “I wanted you completely free, sir. Like I would have been if I had succeeded.”

This close to each other it was obvious they could both feel the pull of each other's magic. A sadness flashed in Snape’s eyes when she reminded him that her original plan did not end with her survival.  

“Don’t you remember what I said in that library in your head?” Snape kept his gaze focused on her. His eyes dilated slightly. “I’ll stop you every time you try to die. Death is not freedom, Hermione.”

His hand moved up to cup her cheek and she gasped at the contact. His breathing became more pronounced as he caressed her cheek. Snape’s eyes were blown black and his gaze was fixed on her lips. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. 

“Tell me to stop, Hermione. Treat me like the bastard that I am and push me away,” He was almost pleading. But his other hand reached for her hip and pulled her closer. “Please.”

She didn’t move. Whether it was the bond or her own fascination with him, she didn’t know, but she wanted this. 

His lips crashed down on hers and the bond sang between them. Suddenly it felt all-consuming. It was no longer a slight tug at her being, it was a fireball surrounding her. His lips were soft and his kiss passionate. The need was rolling off of him in waves that made Hermione want to whimper. She had never been kissed like this before, and she knew she would not be the one to pull away. 

Then he pushed her back, reluctant to break the kiss but obviously trying to get ahold of himself. They were both panting and he was shaking. His hands that were on her shoulders when he pushed her, were now raised in the air beside them as if to show the world he wasn’t holding her. She stepped back out of his reach, combing a hand through her curls nervously. Curiously, Hermione felt the bond settle again to that barely negligible tug and brush of his magic. 

Snape growled and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were slumped and she could see him gasping for air through the curtain of his hair. Hermione was feeling many different and conflicting feelings. It was obvious the bond was there, but the intensity of it was almost completely burdened upon Snape. If they were equal, her bond would have lashed out when Harry had kissed her earlier. Guilt flooded her at yet another failure. 

“Go back to Potter, Her-Miss Granger,” He gritted his teeth as if speaking to her so formally caused him physical pain. “It is obvious the bond is rather lopsided and I would hate for you to be stuck in my clutches while you yearned for Potter.”

She winced at the malice in his voice. Harry had told her about the memories he had seen in Snape’s head. The know-it-all had thought it was unfair for Snape to treat him badly because of his father’s actions. But now it seemed Harry would suffer for the ardor he held for her. The Potter name had truly only ever brought Severus Snape misery. 

At that moment, sounds were coming from her cot across the room. The boy in question was writhing around in his sleep, obviously having a nightmare. Reluctantly, Hermione turned her back to Snape and climbed back into bed with Harry, holding him until he settled back to sleep. 

—----------------------

Severus gripped the edge of the cot so hard his knuckles were bright white. It was like the bond was growing stronger now that she was awake. He was using every ounce of willpower he still had to not cross the room and drag her from beside Potter into his arms and his own bed. The newness of the bond was proving to be an obstacle for his natural occlumency to take control. He willed his mind to reign in the brewing emotions in his chest. 

If the texts were to be believed, a true bond would make it impossible for either party to act amorously with anyone else. But as he watched Hermione whisper into Potter’s ear and kiss his cheek, far too comfortable sharing a bed with him for it to be the first time, he knew that the depth of the bond, the severity of it, was much worse for him. Kissing her had felt like coming home and being enveloped in the warmest and safest of embraces. Now that he had experienced it, he craved it even more.  

He felt like an utter wretch to feel such longing for the young woman. Regardless of her platitudes about their age gap and her pre-existing care for him, it was still wrong. Severus would make it his goal to sever the bond, if only to allow Hermione to live a normal life. The life he was going to make her live. If she were to ever succeed in her attempts to take her own life, now that the bond had been established with their kiss, he feared what it would do to him.

His ruminations were interrupted by the doors of the Hospital Wing opening. The Headmaster walked in with McGonagall, Pomfrey, Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and to his great disdain, Sirius Black in tow. From the corner of his eye he saw Potter awaken and stare wide-eyed at the troupe. His face turned red when he realized he was snuggled into Hermione’s side. He hopped out of bed and greeted the group who looked somber and battle worn. 

While Black, Lupin, and the other two students greeted Harry and made their way over to Hermione’s bed, the rest of the congregation were openly staring at him. He stood up, occluded, and braced himself for whatever accusations may follow. 

“You will all remain here. Madame Pomfrey will see to any wounds. We will hold a private Order meeting when I return,” Dumbledore announced. There was an edge to his voice, but nothing compared to the vitriol he had unleashed upon him earlier. The others nodded and immediately Madame Pomfrey began fussing. The Headmaster took a few steps towards the fireplace. “Come with me, Miss Granger.”

The steeliness of his voice made McGonagall inhale sharply and Lupin’s hackles rise. It was a command not a request. He turned to the bed across from him and felt his own anger flare at the possibility of the wizard hurting her, taking notice of the way he said only he would be returning from their meeting. He strode from his bed and pointed his wand at the wizard in question who did not flinch. 

“She will not be leaving my sight, Albus. I do not care who you are or what power you think you have. But if you think I will allow you to be alone with Hermione, you are gravely mistaken,” Severus felt the bond’s protectiveness flair brightly in his chest. The warm heat of her magic tried to temper his ire to no avail. 

“Oye! Snape, you greasy git! What do you think you’re doing?” It was the younger Weasley who strode forward with his wand raised at him and he scoffed. 

Arthur was behind his son in a second, trying to pull him back. He knew the rest of those watching were ready to hex him although their wands were still pointed at the ground. The air was tense and heavy with the magic of those present.

“Severus, what is the meaning of this? Albus, I’m sure whatever it is doesn’t have to result in pointed wands!” He looked over at the Transfiguration Professor. The confusion and betrayal on her face cut him.

Albus Dumbledore had the audacity to ‘hmph’ in a slightly amused tone, his eyes twinkling. “Nothing to be concerned about, Minerva. You know that Severus can act rather rash when it comes to muggleborns, he has a type.” 

Severus growled at the implication, his wand sparked but before he could aim Hermione invaded his vision and grasped his wand wrist. The bond burst forth with the urge for him to pull her back and behind him. But he was stayed by the venom in her eyes. Even more shocking was Remus, standing between them and Dumbledore. 

“Albus, I will say this only once. If you harm either of them, I will let Moony rip you to shreds,” There was a deep rumble behind his normal speaking voice that made everyone pale. 

“Enough!” Hermione yelled, a hot wave of spontaneous magic flooded the room. Her hair sparked to life and all he wanted to do was kiss her again. Before he could give in to the urge she had released his wrist and turned to place her hand on Lupin’s back. The muscles of the werewolf relaxed under her touch. “It’s alright Remus. I will be back. There is a lot that’s happened in the last day or so. For me, will you make sure Harry and Ron don’t attack Professor Snape? He has done nothing wrong. He had no idea what I had planned.”

Lupin bowed his head in deference and then glanced back at Severus. He tilted his head and his eyes widened with realization. Then he was suddenly in front of Severus with his wand raised at the others in the room, poised to strike whoever tried to attack the Dark wizard. Someone gasped to the side of them. He suspected it to be Black who was no doubt growing more confused. 

“Shall we?” Hermione’s voice had that dead quality he hated. The one that told him she was deeply occluding and likely disassociating. 

“Hermione!” He called to her, his bond roaring at him that she was in danger. A deep, gut-wrenching pull twisted inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was the bond, but something felt wrong.

“I will be back. I promise.” She strode confidently to the fireplace, stepped inside, and threw the floo powder, “Headmaster’s Office!”

Dumbledore eyed the room, then followed Hermione soon after. 

With the two gone, the room only marginally relaxed. He felt the warm lick of her magic soothing him and the fear that had bled into him when she floo’d away ebbed.

“Will someone explain to me what the hell is going on?” Sirius barked. 

“We’ll get the full story while I tend to you lot. Or have you forgotten that you just had a battle with some Death Eaters in an enclosed space?” Madame Pomfrey practically screeched as she pushed the aurors and Order members to sit on the hospital wing cots. 

Lupin turned around and eyed him. In a low voice so no one else could hear, “You’re bonded to her.”

He raised his brow, “You can tell?”

“She is part of my pack. I knew the moment I walked in the room that someone had been added through a bond with her. When our eyes met I knew it was you.” Lupin explained, still calm as ever. 

“I’m part of your pack?” Severus wanted to punch a wall. Of course he would be pack bound to the werewolf that nearly killed him in his youth. 

“Moony, what the hell are you two whispering about?” Sirius strode over, with a look of disgust. Severus increased the space between them and sat back on the edge of his cot, trying to mentally prepare himself. 

“Harry. Severus. You two were here with Miss Granger so I suspect you know more than any of us. So out with it,” The headmistress commanded haughtily, obviously still rattled by the tense situation earlier. 

Severus looked across the room for Potter, who was standing next to Hermione’s cot looking pale faced. Everything had escalated rather quickly. He was still probably trying to process what had just happened. Severus pinched his nose and sighed loudly. 

“Well then gather around, as if I have a choice. I’ll answer questions but only ones that aren’t a waste of the air in my lungs and I will not be repeating myself. Is that clear?” Snape put on his teaching persona and glared at the room. 

“A ‘please’ would go a long way in making this less trying than it already seems to be,” Minerva scoffed as she summoned chairs and set them facing Severus in a semicircle. Everyone settled as best they could while he glared them all down, as if daring someone to talk.

“Professor,” To his surprise, the ethereal and always dreamy Luna Lovegood had raised her hand as if she were in one of his classes rather than an emergency Order meeting, “I don’t have a question but I would like to say that you look rather dashing tonight, sir. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of your robes before. You look like you’ve slept away all your stress. I am glad, sir.”

Severus blinked surprised at her words and how she smiled softly at him. Before he could stop himself he asked her, “Miss Lovegood, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Oh! I was out on the grounds looking for warblesnarts. They only come out in the wee hours of the morning, you see. I was rather startled when my journey was interrupted and I was dragged down a tunnel. Then I was in your chambers and then your office, I quite like your office by the way. Then they blasted through the potions classroom and Ron happened to be on his way back to Gryffindor tower after a midnight snack. It was all rather a blur after that but I do know that Ron got me away from whoever ripped my robes.” She said all this in the same ethereal and soothing voice that she said everything in and even gestured to the rip in the sleeve of her robes. 

“So you got all the Death Eaters then?” Harry broke the spell of Luna’s storytelling.

“Yes, we had just made it past the entrance hall when the blast happened,” Kingsley remarked, as he ran a tired hand over his face. He fixed him with a hard look. “You-Know-Who sent some of his best duellers after you, Severus.”

“Should I be relieved or disappointed that he didn’t come himself to make an example of me?” Severus refused to let his fear of that very thing come through in his tone. 

“Severus, why on earth would he send them after you to begin with? Was your cover blown? Do you think Lucius gave you away?” Arthur asked, he stood behind his son with hands on his shoulders, keeping the teenager under his thumb. 

He rolled up his sleeve as he spoke, “There have been a few developments in the last 36 hours. As Miss Lovegood pointed out, I have benefitted from it, in more ways than one.”

With that said, he showed his bare arms to the congregation. 

“How can this be?” Minerva looked as if she might cry. He knew that the older witch had spoken up for him against Dumbledore’s extortion of him because of his mark. She had always insisted that there must be a way to remove it. 

“I can thank Miss Granger for that. Though the extent of the ritual she performed has yet to be fully discussed, we were a bit preoccupied with repairing her magical core and pulling her away from death’s grasp,” Severus allowed his bitterness out, his heart clenched at the thought of her death. In the back of his mind he felt her magic pulse against his. 

“What did you do to her, Snivellus?” Black’s voice dripped with scorn. He was standing and confidently preached to the room, “Hermione is a clever young witch and I don’t doubt that if anyone could solve the ‘problem’ of a Dark Mark, it would be her. But why would she? What did you do? Blackmail her? Threaten her parents?”

Snape practically purred with a smirk on his face, intent on riling up the mutt for bringing up the girl’s parents, “You’ll find that Miss Granger was more than willing to do whatever she could for me.”  

Black roared and strode forward, ignoring the wand in his pocket and going for a punch only to be stopped by Remus. Arthur had held down his son and Minerva, although looking appalled, still grabbed Harry when he too had wanted to join the fray. 

“Moony, let me go! Did you hear what he fucking said? Making Hermione out to be some tart!” Sirius fought Lupin’s hold on him, but was forcefully shoved back into his seat. Lupin backed up until he was once more between Severus and the rest of the room. 

“All of you will remain in your seats until we get to the bottom of all of this. Severus, of all of us, has nothing negative to say about Hermione.” Lupin glanced at him. 

“Why the hell are you on his side?” Ron finally chimed in. 

“There are no sides in this. Severus has done nothing wrong. You all know already that I will not hesitate to protect my pack,” Lupin admitted with little preamble. Severus was surprised that he would be so open about it considering how it came to be. 

“Snivellus is part of your pack? Since when?” Sirius practically yelled, horrified at the thought. 

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is figuring out what to do now that Severus is in danger and can no longer spy for us,” Lupin reasoned. 

“But what ritual did Hermione actually do? We never got an answer about that. And why does Dumbledore need to talk to her alone?” Ron asked. The boy looked so overwhelmed that Severus almost felt pity for him. Almost. 

“I defer to Mister Potter to explain that as I had not been privy to any information concerning the witch and a particular ritual,” Severus leaned back into his chair, saying loudly without words that he was done speaking for the moment. 

“Harry, what is he bloody talking about?” Ron turned to the bespeckled boy imploringly. 

He watched as the Chosen One steeled himself for the explanation. All eyes were on him, “She found something in a book back at Grimmauld Place. It’s a way to tether your magical core to someone else’s. To save you from death in the case that you’re injured. But it was too dangerous so I convinced her to forget about it.”

“I don’t think Miss Granger has ever forgotten anything she’s read in her entire life,” Kingsley sighed as if he knew what was coming next. 

Harry sat up straighter, “She had said she wanted to modify it when we talked about it, but I thought she had dropped the idea. I couldn’t let her bond her core to mine, because obviously she wanted to be the one and it had to be a girl. But the likelihood of her dying was too high, almost guaranteed.”

“She’s not dead though so it worked, right? I mean Snape’s here,” The red-head added. 

“She almost did. The core tethering is only supposed to come into effect when one of the pair is in mortal danger. Look, Hermione was better at explaining it. But whatever happened with Snape, she used a modified version of the ritual. So there’s no telling what could have happened. The fact that she is alive is nothing short of a miracle.” It was silent as everyone took in the new information. 

“Harry, you sound awfully sure that it should have killed her,” Sirius looked thoughtful.

“I told you, Hermione explained it better, but the gist is that when your magical core is depleting while trying to keep you alive in your last moments, you can’t produce enough magic at that pace to refill what’s already been used. So by tethering yourself to another person, when your core needs more magic than it can produce on its own, it will absorb the magic from the other person’s core. If the person you are bonded with that is pulling magic from your core is more powerful than you are, then they will absorb your core completely to ensure survival. But she changed it to activate during the ritual. Obviously, it got rid of the mark and made Snape healthier. We don't know what else she might have changed but it was all extremely dangerous,” Harry explained, stuttering and flailing his hands. 

“So Hermione did this ritual knowing it would, most likely, kill her? That makes no sense. We’ve all made sacrifices but no one would ask Hermione to sacrifice herself.” Ron prattled on. “I mean she’s got so much to live for!”

“Does she, Mister Weasley?” Severus couldn’t stop the biting reply. “Because if she did I doubt I would have had to save her from throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower the first night of term!” 

—--------------------------

Hermione was sitting at a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk when he walked in and took the seat in front of her. 

She met his shimmering eyes, blinked, and then found herself in her mind’s library. Dumbledore sat in a chair across from her, dominating her desk.

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly then reverted to their shimmering blue, even as he stood in her mind, obviously having cast legilimens silently. “Occlusion? Impressive.”

“With friends like you, I thought it was necessary,” Hermione replied calmly. “Why not just ask me what you want to know, Headmaster? I’m sure one of these books holds the answer. I’d be happy to retrieve it for you.”

“Something tells me that, unlike most libraries, I would not find anything so easily,” His eyes bored into hers. “No matter what I consider, Miss Granger, I cannot find any reason for you to have done what you have.”

“Do I need a reason?” Hermione replied

“I would think that making sure we still have an upperhand in this war would be a priority. But you’ve lost us a spy,” His voice grew cold. 

Hermione observed him, wondering how she had ever thought the old man had ever been a benign fool. The man had defeated powerful wizards to get where he was, and she doubted he had granted anyone mercy, “Use Lucius. Professor Snape has more than paid his dues to you and everyone else.”

“That is not for you to decide!” Dumbledore stood, towering over her. 

“And it was right for you to extort him? Manipulate him into your service all these years? Severus Snape has saved Harry and I, and even Ron more times than you have ever lifted a finger for us!” Hermione raged back, “Does it sting that you aren’t the one holding the strings?”

He sneered at her, “I was wrong about you, Miss Granger. I thought you would rally behind Harry and help him win this war but you tried the coward's way out. What would your parents think? After all, they gave their lives for this war as well.”

Hermione felt like her heart stopped, and her blood ran cold. No one knew about her parents. No one was supposed to know. “What the hell does that mean? My parents were killed by muggles. How do you even know they are dead?”

“We must all make sacrifices for the greater good, Miss Granger. I had thought the loss of your family would remove them as a distraction. Harry needs people beside him who are willing to sacrifice everything,” Dumbledore sat back down, a calm expression sliding onto his visage. 

She eyed him for a long moment, not wanting to voice her suspicions but she had to know the answer. Hermione ground out the question, “Did you kill my parents?” 

“No, no, my dear, you were the one who sent them to Australia and removed any knowledge they had that could have whisked them away from that sordid affair. I may have just nudged you into the idea of banishing them to save them,” He tilted his head to the side and had a smile on his face that sent chills down her spine. 

“Y-you had me send my parents away?” The question stirred something in her–dread, realization, deep soul-searing guilt. Her words slowed, and quieted, “No. No.  I had planned that. I was trying to protect them.”

“Obliviating them so they would never again be part of your life was a bit drastic, in terms of protections. We both know that obliviating them would mean that you were in all essence condemning yourself to a life without them. Something you would never have chosen. After all, the Order has safehouses,” Dumbledore explained. The smugness in his voice was undeniable, “But muggles can be so stubborn. They would have insisted on knowing more. They would want to remove you from school and the fight. They would have broken the Statute of Secrecy to protect you, Miss Granger. Righteous people, your parents.”

Hermione said nothing as she tried to understand all that the Headmaster was revealing. Her mind was reeling with the new information. He had manipulated her. But when? Why didn’t I question it? Why didn’t anyone else ask after them? Why did I let them go? WHY!

“I may have pointed you in the direction of what I needed but you were the one who sent them to Australia, where they died,” The gleam in his eye made her want to vomit. She stood up, remembering they were in her mind, her library. Hermione ignored the old man as she searched for the memories from the last year and found the moment when she had mentioned to Harry about the safehouses. Dumbledore had interrupted and then all she could think about was obliviation. 

She felt something in her crack. The room shook and the lights dimmed. It seemed the very foundation of the library was crumbling beneath their feet. Hermione felt the welcome touch of numbness and detachment as she forced her grief away from her heart. She closed her eyes, willing the tears and pain away. The pain was like a blanket of snow raining down on her skin, making her feel tight and tense, ready to shatter at a mere touch. 

The dark liquid touch of Snape’s magic flared up and pushed away the coldness of deep occlusion. He must be able to feel her distress.

 “A distracted Hermione Granger would result in a distracted Harry Potter,” His voice was the same grandfatherly voice she had heard give the welcome feast speech every year since she was 11 years old. It was vile. “If his ardor for you wasn’t such a considerable driving factor to his will to fight, I might have martyred you along with your parents. Considering the situation now, I think I regret not doing just that.”

Anger flared and surged in her, so powerful that she shoved Dumbledore from her mind and found themselves back in his office. She jumped up from her seat and pointed her wand at him. He simply raised his hand, telling her to stop.

“Miss Granger, let me be very clear. I could make you disappear right now and it would destroy not only Mister Potter but Severus as well. But then our war effort would be in more shambles than it is now. Use your intellect, Miss Granger. Cease carrying out any more of these plans you have and you will be able to continue your life here in Hogwarts, and the wizarding world. You can remain at the side of your paramours and help us win this war,” Dumbledore leaned back into his chair as his arrogance and hubris filled the room. 

“And you expect me to go back to the Hospital Wing and keep everything I’ve just heard a secret?” Hermione bit out, her rage barely contained. Her nails bit into her clenched fists, and a part of her wanted to scream and rage. 

“No, Miss Granger. I expect you to tell Severus, who will no doubt continue working for the Order to ensure your safety. As for Harry, and the temper we know he has, you will keep this from him. As you have kept your parents’ deaths from him. To spare him the pain, suffering, and the spite that the piece of Tom inside him would latch onto,” It was said with such assurance and it made Hermione’s skin crawl. He was right. Hermione knew how war worked, she had read enough about it. He was their general and without him the movement would crumble. Harry needed both of them to do what he needed to win the war.

“I never doubted whether you were a great man, Albus Dumbledore. But I had hoped you would also be a good one,” She turned and walked straight into the hearth to make her return. 

Chapter Text

“Does she, Mister Weasley?” Severus couldn’t stop the biting reply. “Because if she did I doubt I would have had to save her from throwing herself off the Astronomy Tower the first night of term!” 

The silence that followed his admission was deafening. It felt like a lead weight had suddenly appeared in his stomach, and it was only his immense self-control that kept the sneer on his face. She’s going to hate me for telling everyone. The flash of horror and guilt in the eyes of some in the room was not consolation enough for sharing her secret. Severus hoped that Hermione would forgive him the betrayal of letting these people know how far she had fallen. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ron still had a tinge of wrath in his voice but the upward movement of his eyebrows was a tell. He was scared. Of what? The truth? The knowledge that none of them had looked past the ‘brightest witch of her age’ persona and noticed that she suffered alone. The first day of term had been over 2 months ago. It was long past the reasonable time to notice that one of their closest friends was not herself. If they had noticed a change, none of them had seen fit to wonder why.

Severus dropped the sneer as he looked around the room. Aghast, confused, disbelieving. That’s all he saw. Either she’s a far better actress than I gave her credit for, or they saw nothing wrong with how she had changed.

“It is not my story to tell, Mister Weasley. But it has become very apparent that none of you have seen that young woman for what she is. A generous, stubborn, self-sacrificing, shockingly brilliant, powerful woman that has been dealing with all of her inner demons all on her own despite being surrounded by those she considers friends and family,” He turned to Potter, “She has taken on the burden of teaching and protecting you, Potter! Were it not for her, you would not have survived this long! We all know it!”

Potter looked down with shame, though he held his wand in a death grip. 

Severus shook his head then let his eyes roam the room, subtly making eye contact with those most close to Hermione, “Does it pain you to know you left her so alone, it was the bat of the dungeons who came to her rescue?”

Potter and Ron winced, knowing that as her best friends they should have known. They probably did notice a change, but in their idiotic and self-centered teenage brains, hadn’t felt like they could offer the girl any help. What did they say about teenage boys’ maturity versus teenage girls’? 

He blew out a long sigh, “I tried to steer others to check in on her. I followed her when she would aimlessly walk the castle at night. I checked the Astronomy Tower to the point of near obsession. I had no idea what she was planning, let alone that it was for me. If she hadn’t barged into my office and forced this ritual, I was planning on giving her a detention just to make her talk. Insolent girl that she is, she’s been avoiding me. I’d prefer her hating me than the dead look in her eye and the indifference.”

“You’re painting yourself as some righteous hero with talk like that, Snivellus. Everyone here knows how cruel you have always been. I would think with your proclivities you would have pushed her off the tower,” Sirius Black challenged. Severus could see the denial in his eyes.

The Potions Master sent a silent hex the mutt’s way when a wave of grief like nothing he had ever known washed over him, forcing him to his knees with a deep grunt of pain. Lupin was at his side yelling at Black, but he kept his head down, leaning against the werewolf for support despite his displeasure at the prospect. Something had happened in the Headmaster’s office. He could feel the cold blanket of her occlusion rapidly building. Instinctually, his magic reached for the bond to send her reassurance and keep her grounded. 

“Severus, are you alright?” Lupin lowered him into a chair. 

“Hermione. Something’s wrong,” He managed to get out before a wave of rage replaced the grief. He growled and rushed to the hearth, trying and failing to floo to the Headmaster’s office. Severus blasted the hearth with a spell out of desperation. Without hesitating, he turned to the Hospital Wing doors only to be met with the wand point of Black, the young Weasley, and Potter. Remus once again stood between him and the aggressors, growling in a way that made the hair on the back of Severus’s neck stand up. A fight within his pack was pushing Moony to the surface.

Potter stepped forward, “You expect us to believe that you care about her? After the way you’ve treated all of us over the years?”

“Before all this I cared for her as a professor cares for all his charges. My nastiness and maintenance of my persona as ‘greasy bat of the dungeons’ need not be justified considering my place as a spy, Potter. Though I cannot be blamed for my lack of patience when surrounded by the bumbling fools you call your classmates!” His voice still dripped with desperation to get to Hermione but he tempered it. Pulling up his occlumency shields. Severus looked around the room, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to make it to the doors before someone hit him with a spell. Not to mention the others in the room who would get caught in the crossfire. Seething, he pushed past Lupin and the three in front of them to sit on his cot once more. 

Lupin urged the others back to the seats but came back to his side to show his support. It was oddly reassuring. Before anyone could speak again, the hearth blazed with fire and Hermione stepped out. 

Her face was tear-stained but her gait was angry. Her magic seemed to make the air sizzle around her, sparking at her fingertips and in her hair. Potter made the mistake of standing to meet her, only for her to hit him with a spell that glued him to his seat. Black yelped at the violence and stumbled when Hermione’s magical response had been to split the side table next to the animagus in half. The bond flared as she walked straight up to him to the point that their chests were nearly touching. She was breathing hard, barely holding in whatever emotions she was feeling, “Is your door open now?”

He blinked and then nodded. Behind her, the Headmaster returned and walked out of the hearth with a soft smile and the twinkle back in his eye. With Hermione so close he felt the flash of loathing so deeply that a growl rumbled in his throat at the sight of the old wizard. Before anyone could say anything else, Hermione took his hand and dragged him out of the Hospital Wing, blasting open the doors in her wake. 

—-----------------

“Hermione!” Harry yelled after her as she ran off with the Professor. Before he could follow, the doors to the Hospital Wing slammed shut again. He turned to the Headmaster desperately. “Professor, is Hermione alright? Shouldn’t you make her come back?”

Harry was surprised to see that the Professor had taken a seat and was observing everything with his normal, twinkling blue eyes. It gave Harry a bad feeling that he did not give a voice to. 

“Miss Granger will be fine. I dare say, Severus will have his hands full with that girl now that they are bonded,” Dumbledore pulled a bag of candy out of his pocket and offered some to Ron who was sitting dumbfounded beside him.

“Bonded? Severus and Hermione?” McGonagall looked scandalized, as did Kingsley beside her. 

Harry wanted a hole to open up and swallow him. Hermione, his Hermione, had bound herself to Snape, “They can break the bond, right Professor?”

The look Dumbledore gave him was all the answer he needed.

“No! You’re Albus Dumbledore! You should be powerful enough to break the bond. You can’t expect Hermione to be bound to the Greasy Git for life!” Ron exploded. 

“Ron Weasley, sit down right now!” Mr. Weasley snapped at his son. The harshness of his voice took everyone by surprise. Harry sighed heavily and glanced at Remus and Sirius. Remus looked calm, accepting. Sirius looked as shocked as he felt. 

“Mister Weasley, as flattered as I am by your assertion of my abilities, Miss Granger enacted a very deep and old magic that predates me by centuries. I do not know the extent of her modifications to the ritual, but to try and break their bond now might result in the loss of both of their lives,” Dumbledore stated serenely. 

“So you’re just going to let Snape get away with this?” Harry snapped. 

“Watch your tone, Mister Potter,” McGonagall chastised.

“No, Minnie, he’s right. How do we know that Snape didn’t plan this? Are we sure he isn’t using the Imperius curse? It’s not right! She’s in her 7th year! He’s her Professor!” Sirius raged. 

“Enough!” Dumbledore thundered. He took a moment to survey the room, as if he expected someone else to challenge him. Harry had seen Dumbledore more angry today than he had ever seen him and it left a part of him terrified, “Miss Granger has made her ill begotten choice and we are left to pick up the pieces. Severus has been relieved of all his bonds and duties, but will continue to remain employed here at Hogwarts. He still has his uses and remains a member of the Order. As such, none of you will assault him. Do I make myself clear?”

The coldness of his voice left everyone feeling unsettled. 

“Headmaster?” Luna’s soft voice broke the silence. Dumbledore seemed to shrink back into his weak old man persona before turning to the Ravenclaw.

“Yes, Miss Lovegood?” Once more his eyes sparkled and his voice was warm.

She tilted her head thoughtfully, Harry could practically see her thinking. Then shook her head and the glazed look of her eyes returned, “Never mind. I think I’d better change out of these clothes. Goodnight everyone.”

With that, the girl flounced out of the Hospital Wing unimpeded. Harry’s eyes widened when the Headmaster chuckled.

“On that note, it is late and we all need some rest. We will hold an Order meeting in the coming weeks. I trust that you all can find your way out of the castle? Mister Potter and Mister Weasley, return to your house once you are done here.” Then he walked straight into the hearth and presumably back to his office.

Kingsley, McGonagall, and Mister Weasley were the next to leave, mumbling amongst themselves about ‘captured Death Eaters’ and ‘fixing the damages before the morning’. That left Harry with Ron, Sirius, and Remus.

“Moony, what else do you know?” Sirius asked, but his vehemence from earlier had lessened. Harry appreciated his Godfather’s candor, asking the tough questions when Harry had faltered.

Remus shrugged, “Nothing. I know as much as you do. But it will not benefit anyone or the cause to fight amongst ourselves. I expect you to refrain from attacking Severus.”

“What’s that all about then?” Ron looked perplexed. “You said Snape was part of your pack earlier. How?”

“Hermione is part of the pack and the bond extends to her…Mate,” Remus said, wincing.

“Mate?” Harry felt his heart crack. Remus gave him a sad knowing look. 

“They are bonded and Moony recognizes the bond. I cannot reverse it and only another werewolf can forcefully claim one of my pack as their own.” Remus ran a hand down his face. “Sirius, we should head back to Grimmauld Place. Tonks will be waiting.”

Reluctantly, Sirius stood and followed Remus out the door. Harry and Ron trailed behind them, only splitting off when they reached The Fat Lady who ‘tsked’ at them for their late return to the common room. Harry took one step in, paused and stepped back out. 

“Harry, you won’t be able to see her. Wherever she is with Snape, she’s safe, as much as I hate to admit it. The bond won’t let him hurt her. If I’m honest, I’m a bit more afraid for the bloke with how Hermione looked,” Ron frowned. 

“I’m not going to look for her.” Harry ignored Ron’s calls and made his way down the hall, his mind racing. 

—--------

Severus let Hermione pull him along the hallways. He could feel her barely contained magic licking at his wrist where she had a firm grip on him. They were about to start down a flight of stairs when she took a sharp turn and headed back down the hallway. He resisted for a moment, still catching up to the feel of the bond, the overwhelming waves of her magic, and the relief of her coming from the Headmaster’s office unscathed. 

Before he could voice his question, she hissed through gritted teeth, “Room of Requirement. Dungeons, too far.”

Seeing her distress, he acquiesced. Snape followed obediently, relishing in her presence. But the grief and anger were almost painful in their intensity. The door was already there when they turned onto the seventh floor. For a moment he thought it was occupied but Hermione threw the doors open, pulled him inside, then warded the door with a flurry of wards that rivaled the ones around the castle. 

Severus barely recognized the ritual room when Hermione exploded with unbridled magic. It was overwhelming, hot and cold, comforting and stabbing, the bond could not compare to her raw magic rolling over him. The air sang with a tornado of magical winds that buffeted them both. The floor shook violently and he fell to his knees as Hermione released a long, wild, and anguished scream. Her pain was palpable, like a shot to his heart. Severus could only crawl to her as she too fell to her knees, sobbing loudly as the surge of her emotional outburst died down. Her hair shot off sparks of residual magic. 

How can she have so much magic left after she gave so much to me? As if hearing about the impossibility of it all, the girl fainted into his arms. Severus held her to his chest, brushing her hair from her face before moving to a more comfortable seated position with the girl cradled in his lap. 

He ran a few diagnostics and found her magical core rather depleted but nowhere near where it had been when she had finished the ritual. She needed rest. Whatever happened in the Headmaster’s office had broken another part of her. Severus was frustrated. The bond urged him to take care of the young woman while the rest of his being wanted to confront Dumbledore, no matter how futile. 

Severus knew he would have to prove his ongoing usefulness to the Headmaster. Regardless, he was determined to see the end of the Dark Lord as much as any other Order member, if not more so. The personal vendetta he had against the megalomaniac still burned in his chest. 

He was called back to the present as Hermione grizzled in his arms. That was adorable…Severus Tobias Snape, you did not just think of one of your students as adorable! He dropped his chin to his chest, eyes closed as he collected himself. Thinking of her as adorable is the least of your worries. Keep her alive and then break the bond. 

Severus opened his eyes to find a plush twin bed with a matching armchair beside it. With as much care as he could muster, he lifted the girl and tucked her into bed. Another errant thought had a pile of his grading, and a steaming tea set appearing on a side table next to the armchair. The Potions Master started his second vigil in as many days, next to the curly-haired woman. He would be there when she woke. 

With the first through fourth year’s papers all marked, and a thorough exploration of what the Room of Requirement could produce while keeping the impressive room intact, Hermione began to stir. Severus felt it in the bond when she reached out, looking for him, and his magic answered. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. 

“Professor, are you alright?” She blinked slowly, obviously exhausted. 

He would have to learn to hide the flinch that came whenever she called him his title. You can’t let the chit be on a first name basis with you. He swallowed, agitated at the two sides of himself warring.

“You should be wondering after your own health, Miss Granger,” Yes, no more of that ‘Hermione this’ and ‘Hermione that’, you are better than that. The voice in his head was being particularly vocal now that they were alone together, “We have barely pulled you back from the brink of death. You’ve performed far too much magic as of late.”

She furrowed her brow, confused for a moment, then what little color she had gained drained from her face. “I didn’t hurt you with my magic, did I? I just couldn’t hold it in. I was going to go back to your office but I was losing control.” 

“I am well. More than I have ever been, as you have already noted.” A curious thought came to Severus as he considered the last few days. “Have you always had such volatile magic, Miss Granger?” 

“Not since I was a child. But they do say emotional turmoil can cause bouts of spontaneous magic.”

“What more emotional turmoil has Albus put you through?” He waved and the armchair moved closer to the bed so he could sit more eye level with her. “While you were in his office…I felt something had happened.”

Tears. Again more tears. She will end up dehydrated at this rate. He summoned a carafe of water and assisted her to sit up, mindful of not touching her skin with his. When she had drunk two full glasses under his scrutiny, he sat back into the armchair, the tension in his back receded slightly. Like that first night in his office, he let her ruminate while he fixed himself another cup of tea. 

Severus waited so long, sipping his tea and staring into the middle distance, that he thought she had fallen back to sleep. But the bedclothes stirred and when he focused his eyes she was seated on the bed with her legs hooked over the edge. Her knees were barely brushing his own. “Is your door open, Professor? Or should we head to your office first?”

Cheeky. “Apart from this not at all being anything like my office, it is an adequate substitute. The door is open for whatever you wish to disclose. The confidence and lack of judgment still stand.”

She took a deep, shaky breath then took his hands in hers. Her magic washed over him again, hot and comforting. He clasped her hands firmly, rubbing circles on them with his thumbs. The gesture did its job to help her relax. Her shoulders dropped and the crease between her brows flattened. When her eyes opened, he fell into her mind easily. 

Back in the library, standing in front of her desk. A new book sat on the desk that was bright red, garishly so. Unlike the other books he had seen, there were no scuff marks or bent spines from use. 

“Open it,” Hermione said quietly. To his right she had opened one of the doors. Beyond it he could see a meadow. “I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

Then she was through the door and it shut behind her. Disassociation.

Steeling himself, Severus opened the book and bore witness to her meeting with Dumbledore, every excruciating minute of it and every emotion that tore through her at his words. His own feelings of betrayal mingling with hers. The distress and downfall of the man who was a great wizard to them all, but in their eyes would never again be a ‘good man’. When he stumbled back out of the memory, he threw the book at a wall, letting it fall, pages down near the hearth. 

Severus slammed his hands onto the desk, his hair falling in a curtain around his face. Though he had no audience, shedding angry, loathsome tears behind the raven locks brought him some marginal comfort. No. You go to her and make sure she knows that their blood is not on her hands. She needs your strength.

With that final thought he opened the door she had walked through a moment earlier. He found her sitting on a hill looking out over the picturesque scene. She looked up to acknowledge him before patting the grass beside her. Obliging, he folded his lanky frame until he was seated with his forearms resting on his knees. There was a light breeze. He could practically smell the spring pollen and feel the heat of the sun. Once more he was amazed by the detail in her mind. 

“Severus,” She said, not looking at him. 

“Yes?” He would not correct her use of his first name, not here, where she felt comfortable enough to do so. 

“We have to survive until the end. No matter what. No matter what or who is sacrificed. We have to make it, so that it’s all worth it,” She turned to him, looking resigned but determined. 

“Yes we do, Hermione. I told you, I’ll stop you every time you try to leave the land of the living. It’s a promise,” He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands. “Or we could stay here forever? Never have to deal with manipulative old wizards or psychopathic snake men.”

She cracked a smile which brought a small smile to his face, “Don’t you remember, you also told me you wouldn’t lock me in the library. Wasn’t that also a promise?”

“I promised not to lock you in on your own. If we’re both here, then it’s different,” He knew they weren’t serious. But it was an odd comfort to think about a safer path than the one they were on.

“Does the bond hurt you?” She asked after a moment. 

“No,” He turned to her and took her hand, “It is a constant longing and connection. I want to protect you. I want to be with you. I fight it as best as I can but I am a changed man. Rather than reluctantly forced to serve two masters, I am now beholden to an insufferable, fluffy haired, know-it-all.” 

She frowned and tried to pull her hand away but he held firm, “This may not have been my choice, but I would rather this than the fate I was promised before. At least you don’t expect me to die. You aren’t quietly hoping for it.” 

“I don’t love you, Severus. I don’t think I can love anyone,” Hermione sounded very young at that moment.  

“I think you have more capacity to love than most people, Hermione,” With a huff he stood back up and then reached his hand down to her, “Only someone with great love can do what you’ve done for yourself, for your friends, and me.”

She hesitated to take his hand, eyeing it like it were a puzzle for her to solve. The bond seemed to hum in anticipation as she turned her eyes upon his face. Hermione smiled at him, warmth suffusing them both as she took his hand. He gently guided her down the hill back to the door they had walked through. Once they were ensconced in her mind library, he released her hand, “I think we are done here for the time being, don’t you Miss Granger?”

“Closing the door already, Professor?” Hermione had taken note of the formality.

“I am still Severus Snape, Miss Granger, don’t forget that. But the door remains open for you and you only. You need only knock.”

—----------------------------

The Dark Lord had tortured everyone. Those unused to it were already lost to insanity. Lucius could not believe what he had heard. Severus had been revealed as a spy and the punishment was meted out to everyone who did not see through his duplicity. 

When he was safely in the master bedroom with the elves nursing him back to health, he constructed a missive to the order.

The Dark Lord requires all Death Eaters to remove their children from Hogwarts. Scrimgeour to be ousted SOON. Expect spies in Hogsmeade. He will not rest until he has Severus.

Chapter Text

Monday morning, after the tumultuous weekend, saw the extraction of almost 70% of Slytherin House by their parents. But to everyone’s surprise, Draco Malfoy had returned. Even more surprising to most were the looks of the Potions Master.  

Harry scowled as he ate his breakfast. Dumbledore had made some vague speech about the necessity of strong ties and kind hearts. The few Slytherins that remained were from ‘neutral’ families. They were sympathizers to Voldemort’s cause, but had not gone so far as to join his merry band of murderers. 

When Snape had taken his seat at the table after the Headmaster’s speech, there had been a rumble of reactions from everyone around him, except Ron who was also scowling. It didn’t make him feel any better about the whole Hermione-Snape situation to see the girls approving of the now younger and virile looking professor. 

Contrary to what he told Ron, Harry had gone looking for Hermione the night before. But a couple hours of searching and checking the Marauder’s Map had only resulted in him somewhere in the Charms wing when she appeared suddenly in her Head Girl dorms near the Gryffindor tower. He had yet to see her this morning. 

Suffice to say that Harry was in a bad mood and missed Hermione terribly.

“So what do you know about Snape looking less like he’s 60 and more like he’s half that?” Ginny whispered conspiratorially as she squeezed her way between him and Ron, “Can you believe that he’s 37? I overheard a Ravenclaw say it. I’d thought he was older than dad this whole time! They do say a bad attitude ages you. But, I gotta admit, he looks pretty good. Not drop dead gorgeous or anything, but comparatively, wow.”

“Gin!”

“Ginny!”

Both boys looked disgusted while the red-headed woman just laughed, “I mean he’s always had a dark and mysterious vibe. But now he looks like he’s actually slept sometime in this century and eaten his fill. I mean, come on, his hair looks positively…fluffy isn’t the right word.”

“Touchable!” Lavender dropped into her seat across from them, followed by Parvati.

“I was thinking ‘supple’ or ‘silky’,” Parvati chimed in with a teasing look. 

“Oh! What about ‘velvety’?” Ginny followed up, laughing as Harry and Ron looked more and more aghast. 

“No, Gin, ‘velvety’ would be better for his voice! I mean he may have been a wretch all these years but his voice has always been…effective,” Lavender said dreamily as she drank her morning tea. 

“You’re all mad,” Ron said around the pile of eggs he was devouring, “He may look less like he hasn’t known peace in 15 years, but I bet he’ll be his usual arse self when we see him in class.”

“Ron’s right,” Harry glanced up at the dark haired man, who was listening to something McGonagall was whispering in his ear, “He’s still Snape.”

While Lavender, Parvati, and Ron continued bantering about the Potions Master, Ginny leaned into Harry’s side, “What’s going on, Harry? Something’s happened. The Slytherins left this morning, Draco is back, and I haven’t seen Hermione all weekend.”

Before Harry could answer, there was another wave of murmuring from the student body. Something had caught their attention across the room.

“Is that Hermione?” Ginny said, having stood up to get a better look at the new development. 

Harry whipped his head around to find Hermione had taken a seat next to Malfoy at the very empty Slytherin table. She said nothing as she filled her plate. Harry was itching to talk to her, but he had no interest in talking to Malfoy, regardless of the boy’s change in allegiance. 

Breakfast seemed to drag on longer than usual as everyone waited for the desertion of Slytherin House and the new looks of the Potions Master to be explained. But no such explanation came. Even when Snape stood, there was a hush that took over the hall. Everyone watched as Snape made his way down from the head table and approached the Slytherin table. He paused behind Malfoy and Hermione, then walked out of the Great Hall in his billowing cloaks and his healthy locks swishing around. A moment later Draco and Hermione left the hall together. 

—-----------

Severus wasn’t able to help himself the night before and had kept his hand on Hermione’s lower back the entire walk back to her living quarters. She had insisted on sleeping in her own bed considering the school week would be starting. The difference a weekend makes. 

Now, as he walked with Hermione and his Godson, he kept himself close to her side, but his hands to himself. The bond was becoming a comfortable presence in his mind. Thankfully, after talking to Hermione last night in the Room of Requirement, he learned that she did try to modify the bonding layer of the ritual. Her only minor failsafe that seemed to have succeeded was disallowing the bonded pair to read each other’s thoughts. Otherwise, a bonding layer was necessary for the rest of the ritual to work. 

“I expected to die, sir. I was also trying to do it as quickly as possible so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the summonings anymore. My apologies for not trying harder to modify an ancient ritual, Professor, but I do not know everything,” Hermione huffed indignantly in front of her rooms. 

Severus fought the smirk that wanted to appear at the memory of their candid conversation. It was probably the longest conversation they had ever had that wasn’t completely depressing. She was as brilliant as her reputation said she was. With the crushing formality of a professor and a student waylaid by their bond and all that they had shared, he discovered quite a bit of snark and sarcasm to rival his own. 

His relatively good mood was dashed when he received the notice from the Headmaster regarding the information from Lucius. So much for sleep. Being hunted by the Dark Lord, as well as having Death Eaters in Hogsmeade was predictable. The eventual fall of Scrimgeour also wasn’t surprising. The removal of nearly all of the Slytherin House had been, in no short term, an ordeal. 

The missives had come quickly, and it was only due to Albus keeping the parents and guardians stuck at the gates that they were not accosted. Hagrid had been given the task of guiding the sleep-addled snakes to their waiting guardians at dawn. Severus had to console some of the younger children who did not want to leave the castle. The children who hadn’t been completely brainwashed by their parents and guardians were somber. Worse were the students that were being returned to their abusers, but still had the pride to not ask for help. The only silver lining had been the return of his Godson. Draco’s mother was also living somewhere in the castle for her safety.  

Upon reaching his office he allowed Hermione and Draco to enter before him, then warded the door shut. He took his seat and slouched his shoulders. With barely any sleep and classes to come, he had no qualms about showing his weariness. He trusted the two 7th years before him. 

“Godfather, why is Granger here?” Draco didn’t say the girl’s name like a curse as he used to. The time away and under his tutelage had done wonders for the boy. The sallowness and obvious distress from the previous year were gone, and he was reclaiming the commanding and austere Malfoy air. 

“There are things I want you to know, and they involve Hermione. It is with her permission that I want to explain to you the reason behind all the upheaval,” Severus spoke softly, not feeling the need to put on airs. He would be doing enough of that the rest of the day.

“The message from my father said that the Dark Lord wanted all the children of Death Eaters pulled out of Hogwarts, which explains how I was able to come back. Won’t have to worry about being hit in the back with a curse. But it also said that he’s after you. You’ve been outed as a spy then? Who found out?” Draco looked between the two of them curiously. 

“The Dark Lord himself probably felt when the mark disappeared,” Severus explained as he went through the trouble and took off his frock coat and rolled up his sleeve. 

Draco looked wide-eyed as he processed the news. When he was presented with the sight of Severus’s bare and unblemished forearms, he started to cry. 

“You got rid of it? Does that mean…?” Draco was up and out of his seat, tentatively touching the bare skin. 

“It is gone; as are any other curses, scars, and vows I have ever made. Hermione Granger nearly gave her life for it, the arrogant girl that she is,” Snape smirked at the girl, who blushed. “Now before you get your hopes up, the ritual that took place cannot and will not be replicated. But knowing that we can remove it is a start. We will work to remove yours, Draco, I promise.”

To his surprise, Draco turned and knelt before Hermione, taking one of her hands in his, “Granger–Hermione, whatever you need, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you if you can save me from this evil thing. Please.” 

He pressed his forehead to her hand and continued a litany of pleas. 

“Mal–Draco, I’ll do whatever I can. I promise. But you should sit down and we can explain more. Alright? I’m also curious as to why the Professor needs me here to tell you all of this.” Hermione helped Draco to his feet and back into the chair.

Once they were settled, Severus continued, “Hermione enacted an ancient ritual with her own modifications, with no thought to her own life. We plan to deconstruct the original method and create one with a smaller price to pay. Until then, I need you to keep her out of trouble.”

He felt her indignation before she screeched, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“How exactly am I going to do that when she hangs around with Potter and Weaselby?” Draco raised a brow as he watched the Gryffindor stand and slam her hands on Severus’ desk. 

“I do not need a keeper, Sir!” Her face was fierce and Severus hated how his heart immediately raced, greedy for her attention. 

“Miss Granger, regardless of how highly you think of yourself, having Draco there so you don’t launch yourself off the Astronomy Tower is not my only goal for partnering the two of you. I also need you to keep my godson out of trouble,” Severus raised a brow at her in challenge. 

“Hey, I don’t need a keeper either! And what’s this about the Astronomy Tower?” Draco chimed in. 

Without looking away from Hermione, whose magic was seeping into him and making it more and more difficult for him to resist touching her, he addressed his Godson, “Just as you have gone to that tower to attempt broomless flight, so has Miss Granger.” 

Despite the flippant way he said it, Draco still gasped in understanding. A flash of betrayal followed by understanding played across the young woman’s face. She turned her head to look at Malfoy, who now wore a pensive expression. When she turned back to face Severus, she nodded. 

Not able to hold back any longer, he reached up and caressed her cheek, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. The bond sang and their magic mingled further. He wondered how long faint touches would be enough to quell the bond before it started demanding more. “Hermione, I know you have already done so much for me and I thank you for sitting with Draco in the Great Hall, it was for purely selfish reasons on my part when I made the request this morning. Will you grant me this as well? I need someone that doesn’t hate me by your side.”

“They don’t hate you, they just don’t understand you,” She reasoned, turning into his caress. 

“Potter has reason to hate me. Now, more than ever. But those are trivial compared to the plans we must now make. I want both of you to have someone by your side that can see the forest before the trees. The war is on and we must choose our battles,” Severus released his hold on Hermione. 

“You two had better head to class,” He stood and handed Draco a slip, “Here is your timetable. It is the same as Miss Granger’s. Do not annoy her with incessant questions, Draco. While turnabout is fair play, this weekend has been trying for all of us.” 

Hermione nodded and led the way out of the office.

—----------------

“Gra–Hermione, do I want to know what that was just then with Snape?” He asked as he walked next to her toward the greenhouses. 

“To put it simply, and to also explain why Professor Snape will not have anyone perform the ritual I did, is because it bound me to him and him to me,” Hermione explained matter-of-fact, hurrying along not wanting to be late. But Draco grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a stop.

“Bound? Like Soul Bound?”

“Yes. It was an accident. I wasn’t planning on surviving the ritual, so I didn’t try to figure out how to completely remove the soul bonding aspect from the magical core tethering,” She huffed and ushered the Slytherin along. 

“Accident? It was going to kill you? Core tethering? Blimey, Hermione, I didn’t think you’d be so complicated but I stand corrected,” He had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” Hermione rounded on him. 

He sighed and looked down at her, both of them stopping around the corner of the greenhouse, “You have always been the nerdy bookworm with an impressive right hook. Potter and Weasley’s tutor, and regular boring muggleborn. No offense.”

She rolled her eyes in response. 

“Now I find out you’re bonded to my godfather, removed the Dark Mark, and were also saved by Severus Bloody Snape when you tried to greet the cobblestone face first. It’s a lot to take in,” He shrugged. “Look, Hermione, I apologize for how I’ve treated you and everyone else all these years. With everything escalating, and now knowing you better, I would be happy to have you as an ally, and even a friend. We can commiserate over the best time to be alone in the Astronomy Tower and how long it would take Snape to kill us for being there in the first place.” 

The morbid humor made Hermione scoff. It was oddly comforting to know that someone else knew the level of despair that would lead to sitting on that cold railing at the top of the tower. She put out her hand to shake his, “Friends then? I’ll punch Harry and Ron if they throw a fit.”

Draco smiled warmly, and shook her hand, “That I would pay to see!”

—--------------

She had shown up late with Malfoy, and the two were acting far too friendly. Harry glanced at the pair who were working together to prune back a writhing plant. 

“What do you suppose that was about?” Ron asked when he had a chance.

“Malfoy must be here because Slytherin is decimated. I still don’t trust him. As for Snape and Hermione, I hate it but they are probably the best people qualified to break down the ritual and reverse the bond,” Harry grimaced. 

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, then got his attention, whispering, “Harry, mate, I know you fancy Hermione.”

Harry whipped his head around and looked at his best friend wide-eyed, “No, I don’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Come off it Harry. It’s obvious. I’m not mad and neither is Ginny. Which is why I have to tell you this,” Ron looked serious as they began cleaning their station. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up about the bond being reversed.”

“Why not? I mean there’s a ton of different bonds. We read about them. Not all of them are for life,” Harry countered.

“Yea, business bonds, and newer vows. But I’ve been thinking about it, and Hermione messed with ancient magic. They took bonds seriously back then, that's why most of them are banned today. They’re all one step away from dark magic. She bound her soul and tethered her magical core. It’s hard enough to do that simultaneously and with conditions, but she did, and then forced her magic to purify the recipient. Hermione should have died with that much strain,” Ron pulled his book bag over his shoulder and turned to Harry. He was reminded that Ron grew up with magic and had a level of understanding that Harry would never have. Ron continued, “Consider that amount of magic binding them together along with incurring a life debt. Dumbledore wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t be able to break the bond.”

Harry was quiet as they left the greenhouse, then he slowed to a stop, “She doesn’t love him.”

Ron squeezed his shoulder, “He doesn’t love her either, mate. I know you want to be with her, but of the lot of you, those two got the short end of the stick. If they can’t break the bond, then they are stuck together forever. They can’t fall for anyone else or the bond will retaliate. At least, that’s what I know from some of the family stories. Who knows what Hermione’s modifications have changed.”

Harry clutched his chest as the knowledge sunk in, “Thanks Ron. I know it could be impossible. But, I mean, I survived the Killing Curse and that was supposed to be impossible. I have to believe that Hermione will fix this. I have to believe that Snape will too.”

“If there is some way to fix all this, those two, out of everyone in magical Britain, are the most likely to succeed. Don’t mope. We can catch up with Hermione later and find out why she’s hanging out with the ferret,” Ron pulled Harry along to Charms. 

 —---------------------

The weeks passed rather uneventfully for the most part with only a few notable events:

1. Draco and Hermione had found common ground and a budding friendship.
2. The bond was nagging at him more and more to spend time with Hermione.
3. Harry Potter, territorial brat, was also sticking to Hermione like glue.
4. He was jealous.

Severus sighed as he continued grading papers. Tomorrow was Friday, when he would finally get to be alone with Hermione. They had agreed to start researching the ritual and deconstruction. He had done a valiant job at treating everyone with his usual snark and bite; not a hard endeavor when he taught such a volatile subject. But his mind was constantly circling back to the young woman without his volition. 

The Potions Master could only thank whatever god it was that stymied any physical ardor for the golden girl. Though his discipline may have had more to do with that than he cared to admit. He knew eventually the bond would become more demanding, but he had no plans of giving in to the baser aspects of this dilemma.

The Slytherin and Gryffindor duo had made a habit of stopping by his office before curfew for tea and conversation. Although not romantic in the least, having her only a desk’s length away from him each night was enough for now. It did frustrate him to an extent to see how easily she poked and touched and brushed up against her friends, and even his godson. The bond seemed to not mind while his own experience with touching another female to any extent resulted in a stinging sensation that only grew more fierce the longer he wasn’t able to touch Hermione. 

As if on cue there was a knock on his office door. Severus felt a neediness rise in him that made him frown. Control yourself. You’re not one of your dunderheaded love sick students. Getting excited at the prospect of touching her hand, shoulder or back is rather pathetic. 

“Enter,” Severus silenced his musings as he waved at the door. It swung open to reveal Draco, alone. 

“Hello Uncle,” Draco strode into the room confidently. With a practiced ease, the young man moved the chair to sit across the desk from him. Seemingly satisfied with the set up, he summoned a house elf to bring them their tea service. Draco dropped his school bag on the floor and slouched down into the chair with a great sigh.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Granger is off with Scarhead for the evening. I might have tagged along too just to annoy them but she assured me she was fine,” Draco related, knowing that his godfather was wondering about the girl’s absence. 

Severus nodded and ignored the flare of jealousy at the idea of Hermione alone with Potter. The boy was infatuated with her. If Severus was honest, he’s surprised it took the boy so long. 

“Uncle, what is it like being bonded?” Draco looked decidedly uncomfortable but no less curious, “I’ve heard about it from some of the other purebloods. It’s not so unpleasant when it’s willing, but I doubt you would want to be bound to a student, let alone the Gryffindor Golden Girl.”

“You would be right with that assertion, Draco. I had no say in the ritual. Miss Granger forced the act upon me as an act of goodwill,” Severus put down his quill and gave his godson his full attention, “I have suffered far worse than a passing affection and warm pull on my soul. The effects have proven bearable. However, I suspect it will grow harder to ignore as time passes without any…progress. I have no problem pushing that as far and long as possible for both our sakes.”

“So from what I’ve gathered, Granger felt like martyring herself to free you from the clutches of the Dark Lord and Dumbledoofus?” Draco said as he chewed around a biscuit. 

“Miss Granger risked her life on the off chance that her modifications to an ancient ritual would relieve me of the Dark Mark, and her subsequent death would rid me of the soul bond embedded in the ritual. Reckless Gryffindor,” Severus sipped his tea, trying not to let his thoughts drift to an image of the girl right before he had kissed her. 

“You’re a better man than me, Uncle. If anyone had done that for me, I wouldn’t need a bond to fall in love with them.  Even just the prospect of the two of you figuring out how to get rid of my blasted mark is enough to make me want to get on my knees,” Draco stuffed another cookie in his mouth and moved so his legs draped over one of the chair's arms. He glanced at his godfather again, “You do know that Potter has the hots for Granger, right?”

The jealousy flared again. 

“I don’t think she’s that interested but she’s been rather busy with all this,” He gestured to Severus and then a wider gesture to the castle as if alluding to life as a whole. Draco found a point on the wall and grew thoughtful,  “It wouldn’t be a surprise. He’s the hero and she’s the heroine after all. Weaselby is the comic relief sidekick if ever I saw one.”

“Did you come here to drive me insane with your incessant prattling?” Severus snapped, his heart aching at the image conjured up by the blond’s words. They followed the tried and true formula to a tee, he could not deny it. 

“Touchy, Uncle? If it’s any consolation, Granger mentioned that she was looking forward to your ‘private lesson’ together tomorrow night. That will be a brilliant cover when those lessons turn into something more…intimate,” Draco purred the last word with a smirk on his face that was eerily reminiscent of his father, Lucius.

“Go to your dorm, Draco,” Severus commanded, narrowing his eyes at the teenager.

“I was right. Touchy,” Draco stood and pulled his bag over his shoulder, “I can have a talk with Granger. Let her know that you’d like to get ‘touchy’ with her.”

Severus lobbed a book at the 7th year as he ran out of the office. 

—-------------

Hermione let Harry lead her, though she was a bit annoyed that he had insisted that she wear a blindfold. When she was finally able to open her eyes, she found herself in the Room of Requirement, taking the shape of a cozy living room that she and Harry had utilized over the years when talking about more emotional topics or the muggle world. But rather than the regular armchairs and coffee table, there was what was obviously a pillow fort, complete with twinkling lights. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve missed you. I know I haven’t been the best of friend,” Harry took her hands and looked at her with apologetic eyes, “I should have known you were hurting. We always lean on you. I always lean on you for homework, advice, and pretty much everything else. But we haven’t come up here in a while to just talk, like we used to.”

“Oh, Harry. I’ve missed you too. Don’t blame yourself for me being weak,” Hermione felt tears well in her eyes as she pulled Harry into a hug. 

“It is my fault. After nearly losing Sirius, I spent so much time focused on talking to him and spending my time with him that I kept standing you up. This was where we could be ourselves. A witch and wizard, with a muggle upbringing, not having to make up for our shortcomings.” Harry released her from his embrace and guided her to the fort. Inside were more lights, pillows, blankets and an array of snacks her parents would never have let her have. “I’m here for you. When I heard about…the Astronomy Tower, I didn’t want to believe it, but the signs had been there and I ignored them. I hope you can forgive me.”

Hermione let the tears fall, “You’ve done nothing wrong, Harry. Some things happened this summer that I’m still trying to work through.”

“You know you can always talk to me,” Harry pulled her into his arms and they laid snuggled in the tent for a moment. His embrace was comforting and familiar. She couldn’t help but relax and allow herself to enjoy the silence. He seemed to understand that she needed some time and held her without a word as they relished in the closeness.

Hermione’s voice cracked as she finally said, “I don’t want to go into details but, Harry, my parents are gone.” 

Harry’s hug grew tighter, “You don’t have to tell me what happened to them, but when?”

“Three weeks before term started,” she admitted, sniffling. 

“God, Hermione, we were always trying to drag you outside or to play stupid games with us, and the entire time you’ve been hurting. We’ve been nagging you to help us with homework every day!” Harry began a litany of apologies. Hermione cried and gladly took the comfort she was receiving from Harry and ignored the errant thought of the dark man in the dungeons who she also wanted comfort from. 

A couple of hours later, they lay in the middle of the room, which had transformed to the ritual room. They could see the sky and stars through the dome above them. In the middle of the marble floor they were ensconced in pillows pointing out constellations and giggling amongst themselves. Eventually it got late enough that Hermione insisted that they head back towards Gryffindor tower, where Harry could drop her off at her living quarters before he too went to his rooms. 

They stood up and dusted themselves off. Harry offered her his hand and she entwined their fingers together as they made their way to the door, “Thank you for doing this, Harry. I’ve missed our talks.”

Harry pulled her close to him and brought his free hand up to brush her hair behind her ear. He was looking at her intensely, a soft smile on his face, “Hermione, I promise, I’ll never forget about our talks again.”

Then his lips were on hers and Hermione didn’t pull away. It was nice, hesitant, similar to the one in the Hospital Wing. But with that thought another kiss came to mind. The searing and all-consuming kiss of the Potions Master. Hermione shoved Harry away feeling a sudden pain in her chest. The bond!

“Hermione, I’m sorry! I should have asked,” Harry pleaded as Hermione backed away from him, holding a hand to her chest. She shouldn’t have let that happen. Maybe if things were different she would indulge herself in the long forgotten fantasy of being his girlfriend. 

“I’m sorry, Harry, I can’t,” Hermione turned and ran. 

—----------------

Severus was unable to sleep with the random touches of emotions he was getting from Hermione. He’d lain awake as various emotions seemed to flit in and out of his being like phantoms. Regret. Loss. Anger. Each one subtle enough to know they were not his own, but just distracting enough to make sleep impossible. 

He found himself standing in his sitting room, considering the bottle of firewhiskey on the shelf when he felt the tug of the bond as regret and guilt pushed into him. It was Hermione. He bolted from his rooms, through his office, and as he passed the threshold to his classroom the doors burst open. Before he could ask what was wrong, she launched herself into his arms, thrust her hands into his hair, and pulled his lips down to hers. 

Chapter Text

Severus had spent his whole life honing his ability to stay in control of his emotions, magic, and physical reactions. He was a spy who duped the greatest dark wizard of this century. His accomplishments spanned skilled Occlumens and Master of Potions. But with his arms filled with a beautiful young woman who was kissing him passionately and the bond between them bursting forth, enveloping them in what could only be euphoria, he was left with only his baser instincts. 

He buried one of his hands in her mane of curls and his arm wrapped around her waist to pull her flush against him. Although the logical part of his mind fought valiantly, the sheer force of the bond’s effects were too great to ignore. The mere taste of her lips and the heady pride that rose at her soft whimper, unmanned him. The bond seemed to wrap around them in ribbons of warmth, begging for consummation as it reached every corner of his being. Even so, the controlled man he had forged within himself struggled to reach the surface. 

Severus should be the adult, he should pull away or push her away. The feel of her lips pillowed against his, accompanied with her signature scent of parchment, vanilla, and cinnamon filling his senses was all-consuming. He felt her shift them so that he was pinned between her body and one of the classroom tables. 

The sound of Filch calling out for Mrs. Norris somewhere down the hall traveled through the open door of the potions classroom. Startled, Severus pushed Hermione backward and gripped her at arm's length by the biceps. She looked thoroughly snogged which spurred him to release her and step towards the doorway. He slashed his hand through the air, slamming the door and warding it. How could he have lost his self-control so easily? Weak, despicable, old man! 

The girl was standing in the room, chest heaving, hair a mess, cheeks pink, and looking utterly mesmerizing. Merlin, have mercy. 

Severus rushed past her to stand behind his desk at the front of the room, putting space and obstacles between them. He should say something but was overwhelmed by the bond begging for more contact with the witch. He hated himself even more when he noticed the tenting in his pants. His mind flashed with a fantasy of her. A fantasy he had forced behind so many walls in his mind that he had forgotten about it completely. 

His mind flashed back to a night at Grimmauld Place early that summer. 

Severus had stumbled into the blasted house of Black late in the night. He had been summoned and forced to witness the death of his colleague, Professor Burbage. Nights like this one were almost worse than those when the Dark Lord allowed Bella to ‘play’ with him. His scars this time were mental rather than physical. Though Bella had still seen fit to send a slicing hex his way as he walked out of Malfoy Manor.

He didn’t know what compelled him to choose Grimmauld Place over Spinner’s End that night but he had been greeted by a fussy Molly Weasley and for once had not stopped her when she plied him with tea and food. Knowing that revealing his wound would only result in even more coddling from the Weasley matriarch, he had slipped himself a few potions until he could get some privacy. 

By the time he could get to the room he normally occupied, he was barely standing on his feet. He did not notice that the bedroom door stood ajar as he slowly peeled his cloak from his body. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for the damnable buttons he had to undo. Even with magic it took longer than he liked. Dropping the frock coat to the ground revealed the white dress shirt with a bright red blossom of blood on his side. The bleeding had stopped and the drying of the fabric meant that it would be horrible to rip off. 

Severus got his right arm out of the shirt but he hesitated to do the rest. The left side of the shirt was already dried to the wound, pulling at his skin as he delicately tugged at it. A gasp came from behind him and he whirled around. In the door was Miss Granger, in dark red pajama bottoms and a strappy tank that left her arms and shoulders bare. 

“Are you going to add impeding upon my privacy to your long list of skills, Miss Granger?” He turned, too tired to be self-conscious about his state of undress. “Turn around and do not speak of this to anyone.”

He watched the young woman hesitate before she step into his room and shut the door behind her. He raised a brow at her questioningly, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping a stubborn man,” She replied with a clipped tone. With a wave of her hand she summoned a basin, water, and a washcloth. If he weren’t so exhausted, he would have questioned her ability to do magic outside of school as well as wandlessly and soundlessly. As far as he knew she wasn’t of age yet or that skilled. Obviously he was wrong. 

“I’m of age, sir. I’d rather not explain it while you stand there half dressed, bleeding out,” Miss Granger stepped up close to him and gestured for the desk chair behind him, “Let me help you, Professor. I’m sure you’ve been through enough tonight.”

He found it in himself to accept her compassion, which was more quiet and non-intrusive than the Weasley matriarch's had been. Once seated, the girl knelt to the side of him, placed the basin of water next to her knees, and gently began dabbing the dry blood. He stared at her openly as she meticulously pulled the stained fabric from his skin. For the first time he noticed how elegant her hands were, how very controlled and without even a tremble to them. The girl’s signature mane of hair had settled, somewhat, into manageable thick curls. He focused on a tight spiral in particular and imagined how long it would stretch if he pulled it taut. 

Then he grew distracted by her bare shoulders. The thin straps of her top did nothing to hide her freckles and soft skin. He could see the beginnings of a familiar scar below her collarbone that disappeared between her breasts into the thin top. Dolohov had commented during the summoning, just that night, about the battle at the Ministry, ‘Potter would have had to pick up the Mudblood in two chunks’. 

“Does the scar bother you, Miss Granger?” His words were low and unhurried.

She startled from her examination of his wound, having finally removed the ruined dress shirt. He was bleeding again as he waited for her answer. 

“It bothers me in a way only a disfigurement can bother a young woman, Professor. I may not be as vain as Lavender Brown, but it has taken getting used to,” She didn’t look him in the eye as she spoke. With a wave of her hand, a bottle of dittany he had stashed in the bedside table flew towards her. He couldn’t hide the expression of surprise as her easy wandless and non-verbal magic continued. 

Before applying the dittany, she began humming a spell he had never heard as she slowly ran her wand along the open wound. The humming was melodic and relaxing. For the first time in a very long time, Severus felt like he might fall asleep in the presence of another person. 

“All done, Professor,” Her voice was soft, yet lacked the pity he expected. He ran a hand down his side and found it healed and washed clean. The girl looked at him from her kneeling position. Without thinking he tilted her chin to get a better look into her honey eyes. Severus swallowed, which drew her attention to his Adam's apple. Her cheeks, which had been a light pink during the whole encounter, were now bright red as she licked her lips. 

I wonder how those lips feel. The thought threw him off guard and he stood abruptly, causing the girl to stumble backward. The spy pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t say anything as he held a hand out to her. With him standing and her back in a kneeling position, his mind dove straight into the gutter.  He wanted to thrust his hand into her curls and guide her head. 

“Get up, Miss Granger,” He snarled, grabbing the girl’s hesitant hand and yanking her upward, causing her to stumble into his chest. Vanilla and cinnamon filled his nose. His eyes zeroed in on her bare shoulder. The strap had slipped. Time seemed to slow as he lifted a hand and delicately moved her strap back into place from where it had fallen. The feel of his fingers against her skin made her gasp softly. When he met her eyes he found them dilated. Finding his senses, he stepped back abruptly, “Get out.”

Hearing the steeliness of his tone, the girl nodded wide-eyed and left the room with a slam of the door. Severus stood there for a moment, cursing the tenting of his pants as the vision of her eyes looking up at him played out in his mind’s eye. 

The subsequent self-pleasuring that followed, and the erotic fantasy he had conjured through it were banished deep into his mind when he woke up the following morning. The guilt of thinking of his student in such a way had made it impossible for him to stay there any longer. He had left Grimmauld Place and had not spent another night there the rest of the summer. 

He had completely forgotten about the night until now.

“Severus,” Her voice broke through his reverie. 

“You should go back to your dorm, Miss Granger, it’s past curfew,” He tried valiantly to return to his ‘bastard of the dungeons’ persona but faltered when she stepped closer to the desk that kept them apart. 

“Severus,” Hermione said again, looking apprehensive.

“Professor,” he said, closing his eyes.

“What?”

“Say it.”

“Professor?”

“Again.”

“Professor.”

“You will continue to address me by my appropriate title, Miss Granger,” He straightened his back and sent her a cold look. “I apologize for taking such liberties with you tonight and before this.”

“Liberties? Professor Snape, we are bonded. That bond saved my life and granted you freedom. This is what we are supposed to be doing!” Hermione was angry, offended. 

“I am still your Professor! I am 17 years your senior! I am a horrible man who has done unforgivable things but I do not plan to keep you trapped. I have to break the bond. We will find a way,” He was vehement, meeting her glare with his own.

“Why are you fighting this? I know it’s 10 times stronger for you. I know you feel how amazing it is when we are together,” Hermione moved to the side of his desk and he circled the other end. 

“Why aren’t you fighting this? You have had every right to hate me since you were 11 years old! I know that everything you think you feel for me is due to this bond!” Severus yelled. “It’s not real. I will not encourage something that you have no say in.” 

“It’s not a compulsion or else I would have shagged you in the Room of Requirement the other night, when we were alone and there was a bed!” Hermione countered but stayed at her side of the desk. 

“Haven’t we already agreed that I am the one taking the brunt of the symptoms? You should continue to resist. I am sure I can hold my own as long as I am not ambushed like I was moments ago,” Severus tried to be angry at her; to convey to her how much it bothered him that her affection was not of her own choosing. 

“Exactly! I am choosing to adhere to the bond. I want it. I want you, and I know you want me too,” Hermione closed in on him. 

He put a hand up to stop her progress. He kept his voice hard like steel, “You are feeling the bond forcing your affection. That is all.”

“It’s doing the same to you, right? So if we both just go with it because it's better than denying it, no one would blame us. It’s expected of us,” Hermione still looked at him with more affection than anyone else had ever looked at him before and it only made him angrier. 

“No! It is different for me, Miss Granger. I assure you that you would never touch me, let alone kiss me, so this,” he gestured between them, “your ‘need’ for me is all manufactured. But the attraction I have for you began before this bond ever took hold.”

She looked stunned at his confession. Emotions played across her face; shock, confusion, understanding. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut, bringing her trembling hand up– to reach for him? To point at him in accusation? 

One step towards him and he answered with another step back. 

“I refuse to accept your affection when it is not real. When it is a result of the blasted ritual. It would all be lies and I am tired of being lied to,” Severus looked away, walking to the classroom door and opening it for her. “Leave. Now.”

Chapter Text

Harry stood outside the Potions classroom the next day, wondering what exactly he thought he would accomplish by talking to the wizard inside. But he had so many questions about the bond and he had a feeling that Hermione would be reluctant to talk about it. Though he wasn’t sure he’d get anything more out of the surly professor, he had to try. With a great bit of apprehension, Harry knocked on the door. 

“Enter,” The timber of the Potions Master’s voice only spiked his anxiety. 

The Gryffindor took a deep breath and entered the classroom, closing the door and casting a silencing spell. When he looked at the Professor who was seated at his desk grading papers, the man simply raised an eyebrow. Harry moved forward and waited patiently as Snape finished whatever note he was making and put his quill down. 

“Now what, pray tell, has granted me the gift of a private conversation with the Chosen One?” He looked him up and down suspiciously. 

Harry felt his irritation at the man renew, but consciously tempered it. This was the only man who could provide him any answers, “It’s about Hermione, sir.”

“I gathered,” Snape leaned back in his chair and sighed. With a wave, one of the classroom chairs moved to situate itself in front of his desk, “Have a seat, Potter. I’d rather get this over with before dinner.”

Harry couldn’t say he wasn’t shocked at the borderline courteous actions of the professor, but he took the seat without feeling the need to justify his presence any more than he already had. He watched as the dark man looked anywhere but in his eyes, seemingly waiting for Harry to start the conversation. 

“Um, Professor, I just wanted to know more about the b-bond between you and Hermione,” the request caused Snape to exhale and pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“There isn’t much to know considering the know-it-all and I have not had a chance to start deconstructing which bond it was. We are bound by our magical cores and souls. We are intrinsically linked to each other until further notice,” Snape answered with a scowl. 

“Does it hurt her?” Harry asked, remembering the grimace on the girl’s face the night before. 

“Besides the initial draining of her magical core to near nothing, she is generally unaffected unless either of us are in mortal peril, which we will no doubt both be before the end of this war, as far as I know,” Snape continued, unfazed by the questions and sounding detached. Harry had never known the Potions Master to be so forthcoming with information. 

“Do you think you can break the bond? Hermione shouldn’t be stuck bound to you…she deserves better.”

“I am well aware of that Potter! I will do all I can to break this bond and relieve myself of the torment of her constant presence in my mind. Wouldn’t want to dishonor the Gryffindor Princess with her association to me,” He scoffed, his trademark sneer spread across his face. “If that was all, you may get out.”

“I have one more question. I-if Hermione were to say, um, kiss someone else other than,” He couldn’t get the word ‘you’ to spill from his lips and dodged it, “her partner, would it hurt her?” 

There was a dark look that passed over the wizard’s face that looked surprisingly emotional. 

“Miss Granger and I  have established that the compulsions of the bond are not evenly distributed, with me taking the brunt of it. I will not feel her…indiscretions…but I would suffer greatly should I be the one to stray. From what I have gathered from my communication with her, the bond may retaliate somewhat to any amorous affection. Nothing more than the feeling of a sting or slap on her part,” The Professor was standing now, with his back to Harry. For a moment Harry felt even more guilty for kissing Hermione if it had caused her pain, no matter how minor. “It is oddly fortunate that I am the one…afflicted with the stronger needs of the bond as my mental control surpasses that of a teenage girl. With a more traditional bond, the physical consummation of the bond is paramount and highly suggested by the bond itself. Due to whatever modifications Miss Granger made, we have been spared the ordeal of either of us ravishing the other.”

Harry felt a little queasy at the thought of Hermione throwing herself at the Professor. Jealousy flashed when he considered the opposite, where the Professor seduced his friend. Hermione hadn’t told him about any special feelings for Snape or any uncomfortable encounters. If he were honest, she was showing the professor the usual respect that she always did. But could the bond change that?

“Potter, do stop thinking so loudly, you’re irritating enough as it is,” Snape rolled his eyes at him. 

“You’ll free her. You have to,” Harry said with more confidence than he thought he had. But that confidence was quickly quelled by the look on the professor’s face. 

“I don’t have to do anything, Potter. But as you have so recently discovered, I am not as evil as you have always believed me to be. I will do my best to end our mutual torment,” With that said, the door of the room slammed open as he gestured for Harry to leave. 

Harry had turned to do just that when the girl of the hour arrived at the door looking concerned, “Harry, what are you doing here?”

He ran a hand through his hair. She hadn’t talked to him much at all during classes that day despite his constant apologies, “Nothing, Hermione, let’s go. It’s almost dinner.”

Harry went to take her arm but she shrugged out of his grasp. 

“You go ahead, Harry. I need to ask Professor Snape a question about the homework,” Hermione said as she brushed past him, eyes on the Professor. 

“Miss Granger, I suggest you join Mister Potter for dinner. I do not have time for any more inane chattering,” The Professor snarled out. Harry didn’t like how the man’s tone was sharper and harsher than it had been with him moments ago. 

“Harry, I’ll catch up,” Hermione looked at him briefly, “It will only take a second.”

He sighed, knowing that she was set on whatever she was doing, “I’ll be just outside waiting, alright?”

Hermione nodded and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. From the corner of his eye he saw Snape swiftly walk towards the door to his office. A few moments later, Harry was standing in the dungeon hallway trying to listen in, yet already knowing Hermione had locked and warded the door. 

“What brings you down to this neck of the woods, Pothead?” Malfoy’s snarky tone surprised him. He’d seen more of the boy this year than any other year previous. He could begrudgingly admit that, with Hermione playing referee, the verbal sparring could be fun. Even Ron had enjoyed himself during a pick up game of Quidditch a few days ago. The palpable change in the remaining Slytherins was noticed by all. 

“I’m waiting for Hermione,” He responded when Malfoy was level with him.

“She’s in there with Uncle?” Malfoy looked surprised for a moment then smirked. 

“I don’t think I will ever get used to you calling him that,” Harry slumped against the wall. 

“If he knew I called him that outside of his presence. I would be six feet under without the ability to call him anything,” Malfoy quipped, “So what’s got you looking uglier than usual?

Harry glared at Malfoy, then figured that now that the blonde was on their side he might as well talk to him, “I just asked Snape about the bond. Ron is convinced it can’t be reversed. But from what I’ve read you shouldn’t be able to kiss someone else if you are already bound.”

“You’ve kissed Granger, then?” Harry blushed realizing what he had just said. 

“Don’t be a prude now, Potter. I’m sure Granger has had more fun than you have. She dated Krum for most of 4th year, remember? I just always thought it would be Weaselby that fancied Granger, what with the whole ‘enemies to lovers’ vibe they give off. You’d think the man liked being yelled at,” Malfoy laughed at the thought of it. 

“So, what do you think?” Harry turned to the boy, giving him his full attention. 

“About the bond or about you and Granger?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow and looked eerily like his father. 

“Both, I guess,” Harry could not have imagined that this would be a conversation he would have ever had with Malfoy, and yet here they were. 

“Well, if I’m honest and nice,” He gave Harry a pointed look, “You and Granger make sense. You’re best friends. You’ve always been close. You both grew up muggles. The hero gets the girl type of deal. I’m well informed that there have been bets on who Granger was going to end up dating, you or Weasley.”

“Bets?” Harry asked, incredulous.

Malfoy laughed, “Yes. I’m sure the professors have been involved in that one too.”

“Well, thanks for that. But what about the bond?” Harry hoped that as a pureblood, Malfoy would be able to shed some more light on the whole situation. 

That’s when Malfoy’s joking countenance slipped. There was now an awkward air about him, “Bonds are very serious and pretty deadly when the pair didn’t enter the bond willingly. Those traditional bonds are predictable. But Granger changed things. She’s lucky she didn’t kill them both. But breaking bonds, especially soul bonds, can only be achieved with great power. Uncle is a powerful wizard whether you hate him or not, but the variables make me wonder if it’s worth it to try and break what they’ve got.”

Harry closed his eyes, “Ron said nearly the same thing.”

“You’ve got bad timing, mate,” Malfoy patted him on the shoulder, “When Hermione comes out, take her and have dinner at the Slytherin table with me. It might lift your mood to see old McGonagall gone apoplectic at the sight.”

With a wave, his former nemesis left him in the hallway. Suddenly the door to the Potions classroom burst open. Hermione rushed past him without a word. Harry barely took two steps when he heard the cacophony of glass breaking right before the door slammed shut on its own. 

—--------------

When the door to the classroom had shut behind her, Snape wasted no time and cast a silencing charm on her. With another flick of his wrist she was magically stuck to one of the classroom chairs. Then he stood there, looking at her. He hadn’t even tried to enter her mind, he just glared at her. 

She fought, she screamed, she tried to cast counter curses, but even when she did succeed, he would re-cast the spell so quickly it didn’t matter. 

He refused to look her in the eyes, instead glaring at a space behind her head, “I will only remove the silencing charm.  For my own safety, you will remain stuck to that chair.” 

She nodded, then a moment later hummed to make sure she could be heard. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to meet his gaze while pulling at her invisible bindings. “Care to explain why this is necessary?”

“I will not allow you to make another mistake under the compulsion of the bond, Miss Granger. Now what is it that you are here for?” Snape sat back at his desk and continued his grading. 

Gritting her teeth she replied, “You are acting like an idiot. Isn’t it a good thing that we like each other? There is no guarantee that we will ever be able to break the bond.”

“10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher. Do not think that just because I have some affection for you that I will allow your impertinence,” He snapped, still keeping his head down.

“You are being entirely unreasonable!” Hermione struggled, grunting softly with the effort. 

“I am thinking of your future!” Snape slammed his hands on his desk. He finally lifted his head and his dark eyes bore into her. “Despite your death wish, you are alive, and will remain alive long after the end of this war. You would have a myriad of opportunities for apprenticeships were there not a war going on. There are wizarding universities that you would no doubt be accepted to. I refuse to be the reason that you do not get to explore that future. I will break the bond so there is no point in your attempts to indulge in it. You would only end up regretting it.”

“Don’t I get a say in this at all?!” Hermione seethed. “Is it so impossible to think that I too hold affection for you? It would be odd not to! You have saved my life over and over! I have craved your approval since the moment I met you! You’re a war hero!”

“Hermione, do shut up,” He bit out, then dropped his head into his hands. The former spy drew in a deep sigh. The silence was drawn out until finally his shoulders dropped and he spoke in a softer voice, “Please, just stop. Potter is waiting for you.”

She didn’t miss the exhaustion in his tone or the quiet desperation. The spell holding her to the chair faded away. It took her a moment to stand, but when she did he spoke again. 

“Go to dinner, Hermione, please.” The pleading in his voice made her falter. Gone was the vitriol. He was begging her to turn away from him. 

“Severus-”

“Do not say my name! Get out! GO! Leave me!” His magic curled around her, turning her around and nudging her towards the door so quickly that she hadn’t had a chance to fight it. 

She was shoved through the door with such force that she just kept running. Vaguely aware that Harry was following her, she headed up to the Room of Requirement. Hermione needed to get away somewhere, anywhere that she could let the guilt wash over her. Snape was suffering just as much as he was before the damned ritual, all thanks to her. 

—----------------------

Severus stood in the chaotic remains of his classroom. He was drained, having had such a wild burst of spontaneous magic that it had amazed even him. The man could feel the tell-tale sting of small cuts from the broken glass that had flown through the air as jars of all kinds exploded moments earlier. He struggled to calm down, bringing up his mental shields and pushing any thought of the girl to the back of his mind. 

He did not know how long it took him to put his classroom to rights, but it was late enough that when he made his way to the entrance hall, he could tell even the late night rounds had all passed. Not bothering to tell anyone, too intent on his own despair, he made his way to the Shrieking Shack, of all places. The tunnel he used to take to leave the grounds when he was summoned had been destroyed after the recent attack, leaving him only one option to get outside the castle and clear his mind. 

He sat in a repaired chair at one of the back windows of the shack, looking up at the half moon and drinking straight from the bottle of firewhiskey he had brought with him. All his ruminations had led him to the morbid thought that he might have preferred having the old codger and snake man as his masters again. At least then he wouldn’t want so badly to live. 

That was the problem, his sudden desire to live. For over a decade he had been ready to die at a moment's notice. His precarious position alone was highly risky, but his own darker predilections sometimes begged him to tell off the Headmaster in such a way that he might be provoked to end the spy's misery lest he double cross him. Even as he put himself in the line of fire to save the ungrateful students, he had never worried about his life ending. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to die. No, it was that he expected to and had made peace with that. But the feel of her magic beckoned him to choose life. The irony didn’t escape him how she had made him crave life in the process of trying to end her own. A fucked up duo they were, especially together. That was the true issue. He wanted the future together that the bond promised, even if it was all a lie. Had he not earned the love of someone else?

Severus chuckled to himself. His musings were so outside of his normal thought processes that he knew he was going to need several hangover potions the next morning. He was distracting himself so assuredly that he did not notice the creak of a floorboard nor did he feel the presence of two Death Eaters making their way into the room, wands pointed at his back. But he did see the reflection of a garish mask in the dirty window in front of him. The copious amounts of firewhiskey dulled his reaction time. He reached for his wand but it was already too late. Agony bloomed in his chest and darkness overtook him. 

Chapter Text

When researching bonds, both modern and from bygone eras, Hermione noticed a few repeating effects: 

1. The bonded pair would be able to feel each other’s emotions to an extent that varies upon the ritual/magic used in the bond, but may extend to fully shared consciousness.
2. The bonded pair may feel mirrored physical responses to something one or the other is feeling i.e. Pain, fatigue, hunger, arousal, or magical sensitivity.
3. The bonded pair will know when their partner is in mortal peril through mental connection, physical reaction, or mirrored injury and magical depletion; the extent varying once again by the type of bond. 

Hermione had tried to mitigate these effects and had succeeded with only the first. But as Hermione lay in bed in pain, she knew the other two points to be true. She could feel the pain that Severus Snape was feeling and her magic was seeping out of her core into his to help him. She was already scared of what may be happening to Severus, but the weakening of her core added a new terrifying factor.

“Hermione!” She could hear Harry calling her name. She knew there were people around her. The cold edge of a vial touched her lips, followed by cool liquid traveling down her throat. The pain abated only slightly. It flared and subsided in waves. 

The pain had come suddenly and had only ceased for minutes at a time before another wave of pain took over. She could only be thankful that the sudden pain was away from the prying eyes of the rest of Gryffindor tower. Harry and Ron had insisted on convening in her Head Girl dorms that night to go over some horcrux research before it got too late. Hermione knew that at some point between bouts of excruciating pain she had been carried to a bed. 

“Miss Granger, I need you to focus on the bond. Severus is nowhere to be found in the castle. You must locate him or you may both die,” The commanding voice of Dumbledore filled her head. Were she not currently dealing with the obvious attack on Severus she would have snapped at the Headmaster for daring to use legilimency on her. 

“Hermione, please, you have to figure out where he is. If we can save him then you won’t be in pain. I can’t let him empty your core,” Harry pleaded in her ear. 

Hermione didn’t care that she could feel her core being drained. She could only think about how much worse the pain was that Severus must be feeling. With that in mind, she drew up the image of her mind library and forced her physical reactions behind one of the doors. Finally gaining control, she focused on the bond. Pulses of her magic searched the space until a small gold book appeared before her that was glowing brightly. It felt like him, that familiar liquid dark heat. It felt like his magic and hers were binding it together. 

She grabbed it and wrenched it open. It was similar to the feeling of falling into a pensieve, although more violent, but rather than a movie-like retelling it was a jumble of senses and thoughts. 

The smell of mildew.

“Did you think you would get away, Severus? Traitor!”

The copper taste of blood.

“We are going to enjoy making you scream.”

Hermione will die if I don’t survive.

“He’ll kill you for hurting me before you have a chance-” 

“CRUCIO!”

His screams of agony. 

“You’re never going to win this. The Dark Lord will get all of you killed before this war ends.” 

Nerve endings on fire. So much pain.

“He’ll be happy to be rid of you. I always knew you were playi-”

“The Dark Lord will punish you for not following his orders! He wants me unharmed, I know he does!

“CRUCIO!”

“If I die tonight, so will both of you! Mark my words!”

Fear. 

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! We are his loyal followers. We are doing this for him! HE will reward us for getting rid of the traitor!”

“The Dark Lord wants to kill me himself. You know he does.”

I cannot die. I will not die.

“CRUCIO!”

“Dolohov! Maybe he’s right.”

Hermione!

“CRUCIO! I don’t care! He made a fool of all of us and I will make him suffer as we suffered!”

Hermione was in a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and smells, but caught a glimpse of a familiar window and view. She pulled out of the book and looked around to see her library crumbling. The pain seeped back in and she exhaled, “The Shrieking Shack!”

Then there was silence, darkness, and agony. 

—------------------

“The Shrieking Shack!” Hermione’s voice echoed in his head. Even distressed and desperate, the sound of her voice brought him hope. She knew where he was. 

“CRUCIO!” Dolohov screamed again. At this point Severus was sure that he was in so much pain that his brain couldn’t even process it fast enough. How the mighty spy had fallen. 

Severus laid on the splintered floor of the Shrieking Shack and berated himself for being so careless. He knew he was a target and he still let his emotions get the best of him and put himself, and by extension Hermione, in danger. He hoped that with the inequality of their bond she was only feeling a margin of the pain he was in. 

He knew that Dolohov was using as much intent as possible to make the Cruciatus as painful as he could. Were it not for the bond, he knew he would have passed out by now. Severus’s magical core was already pulling from Hermione's, and with them both barely in full health, he worried what it might do to her. 

The loose lipped offenders had told him that they were working against the orders of the Dark Lord, which would work in his favor. If he could get them to fear repercussions enough, then they wouldn’t kill him, hopefully. He just had to buy time until the Order arrived. The spells had ceased as Dolohov and Macnair bickered over whether or not to kill him. He was able to move onto his side with great difficulty, his lungs burning with the effort. Valiantly shoving the physical toll of his torture away, Severus laughed at his captors, “You always were a bit too eager for the Dark Lord’s liking, Antonin. Too much of a loose canon. He’ll not be pleased to see you taking a kill away from him.” 

“You mudblood loving piece of trash! I knew you would eventually turn on us. Bella and I knew! We heard how you begged the Dark Lord to save Potter’s mother. That codgy old fool wouldn’t have kept you so close if you hadn’t begged him for your life!” Dolohov kicked him in the chest. He felt his ribs crack from the force of it. 

“Antonin, that’s enough!” Macnair grabbed the other man’s arm and pulled him back, “What do you think Bella will do if you kill him? She’s been ranting and raving about how much she will enjoy watching the Dark Lord flay the man alive!”

“The Dark Lord will forgive me,” Dolohov snarled as he sent a slicing hex at Severus’s thigh. 

He barely registered the warmth of his blood as it poured out of him among his myriad of injuries. Severus sneered up at the overly confident Death Eater, “The Dark Lord does not forgive, Antonin.”

“CRUCIO!” 

The spasms were even harsher now. His chest flared with pain as the jolts jostled his broken ribs. The floor slipped beneath him as he writhed around in a pool of his own blood. He didn’t know how long it had been since the torture started but he would not last much longer. The Cruciatus suddenly stopped and he could hear a scuffle happening nearby. With a great deal of effort, Severus turned his head to see that Macnair had disarmed Dolohov who was now crumpled against the far wall. 

“Don’t think I did that for you, Snape. I don’t care if Antonin dies, but I do want to see how the Dark Lord will relish murdering you,” Macnair grunted at him as he threw a porcelain saucer at the unconscious Death Eater who was transported in a blink of an eye.  A portkey. 

Snape felt panic rise in his throat as Macnair pulled a similarly innocuous object from his coat and moved towards him. The sudden flash of light and the chaos that ensued as the Order finally came to his rescue did little to relieve his stress. The fight that broke out around him was too quick to follow. Macnair had always been one of the better duelers and was proving his skills. 

“Severus, don’t worry. I’ve got you.” The voice of Lupin was accompanied by the blurry vision of the werewolf above him. Severus could barely hear his reassurances over the sound of chaos and carnage. 

“H-hermione…” Severus choked out. His vision was blurring from blood loss so when he reached for Lupin the wolf had to take his hand, gripping it firmly, “Could she feel…this?”

“She’s fine, Severus. Poppy has her,” Then there was darkness and relief. 

—-----------

Harry was beside himself as he watched the Medi-witch and McGonagall holding Hermione down as each bout of spasms and screams rent through her body. She was growing paler by the second and for every diagnostic spell Madam Pomfrey cast, she worked harder each time. 

Dumbledore had arrived a moment ago and had grabbed Hermione so roughly by the jaw that Harry had to force himself not to rip the old man away from her. The Headmaster had urged the young witch to look him in the eye and they held the gaze for a long moment. Harry felt helpless as his best friend descended back into spasms, but this time her eyes were closed and she wasn’t making a sound. 

“What’s happening?” Harry pushed his way to her side and took her hand. 

“She is trying to find Severus. He is nowhere in the castle and whatever he is going through is the cause of Miss Granger’s current state,” Dumbledore brushed his hand through his beard thoughtfully. 

Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes wrenched open, “The Shrieking Shack!” 

This was followed by even more violent spasms and a screech that brought a wave of anger and protectiveness out of Harry. The Medi-witch cast a spell on the beleaguered witch that knocked her out. Dumbledore whipped his wand out quickly and sent out a patronus. Without another word, the wizard headed out of the Hospital Wing with Harry following close behind.

“Professor! Let me help!” Harry caught up with the man, determined to be part of whatever battle would ensue. 

“Go back to Miss Granger, Mister Potter, the Order will handle this,” Dumbledore only spared him a glance. A patronus appeared and imparted a message only the Headmaster could hear. When it dissipated, the older man turned to him, “I commend your bravery, Harry. But it seems that the Order is already making their way there, and there are only two culprits. Tonight is not the night you face Tom.”

“That’s why they are at the Shrieking Shack, isn’t it? If it was Voldemort they would be off at their headquarters, not so close to the school,” Harry’s brow furrowed as he continued to keep pace with the professor. 

“Tom would want Severus’s death for himself. Our dear Potions Master has many enemies now that his position has been exposed, but his greatest betrayal is still to Tom. It doesn’t surprise me that a few Death Eaters wanted to exact their revenge before there was nothing left of the man,” Dumbledore’s callous delivery of all this brought a shiver down Harry’s spine, “Go back to the Hospital Wing, Harry. Your better half needs you.”

Harry felt his face flush as he caught the knowing look in the Headmaster’s eye. Dumbledore stopped striding forward for a moment to consider Harry. His countenance turned serious once more, “Be careful where your affections lie and who knows of them, Harry. Miss Granger has entrenched herself in this fight in a way none of us could have predicted. Remember our goal is to end this war and stop Tom’s reign of terror. Do not jeopardize the greater good for a woman who is bound to someone else. Promise me.”

Harry was surprised by what the Professor was saying, “It doesn’t matter if she is bound to someone else. I still love her. I will always protect her. She will not survive in a world where I do not succeed in killing Tom.”

“Love is indeed a powerful thing, Harry. But you will need more than love and bravery to end this war,” Dumbledore took a staircase that moved before Harry could take a step on it. Without another word, Dumbledore continued his descent. The exchange left Harry with a deep sense of foreboding, but he pushed it to the wayside as he rushed back up to Hermione.  

Upon returning to the infirmary he was surprised to see Malfoy pacing anxiously while his mother sat off to the side watching her son with a guarded gaze, “Potter! What’s happened? Where’s my uncle?”

“The Order is rescuing him now. As far as we know, he was attacked by a couple Death Eaters looking for revenge. What are you doing here?” Harry asked, curious about how the Malfoys found out about the new development as it was past midnight. 

“Mum has a family trace on Snape. If he’s greatly wounded, she would know. It woke her up.” Malfoy said, finally taking a seat in the cot next to Hermione, “Granger could feel it all, couldn’t she?” 

“We don’t know how much but it was enough to tell us that Snape was being tortured viciously,” Harry moved to Hermione’s side. Her twitching had stopped and she seemed to be sleeping. He hoped that the lack of physical reaction meant that they were able to find Snape in time. The young Gryffindor took the girl’s hand and tried not to think about how cold and pale she looked.

“So they truly are bonded,” Mrs. Malfoy’s voice was as elegant as she was. There was no waste of breath or over exaggeration. The melodic nature held the concern only a mother could have; Harry had heard a similar tone from Mrs. Weasley. 

“You can see it, can’t you, Mother?” Malfoy looked at his mother imploringly.

Mrs. Malfoy circled Hermione’s bed and seemed to trace the air around her. The soft smile that tilted the corners of her lips was beautiful.

“You can see their bond?” Harry asked incredulously.

The Malfoy matriarch nodded but kept her eyes on the sleeping witch, seeing things that Harry couldn’t, “Yes. I am highly sensitive to auras and magical connections. Magic, for me, is corporeal and beautiful. The most vivid has always been bonds and vows. These two, Miss Granger and Severus, are both very powerful, in part due to the bond that links them together. As long as they can get Severus here, both of them should survive.”

“Is it dark, like the marks?” Her son asked, apprehensively. 

“No. I thought it might be when you told me about it. I meant to check when I had a chance to speak with your godfather, but with moving into the castle, I hadn’t a chance. I don’t think the original ritual was dark to begin with, but her intent was pure. The magic runs deeper than any bond I’ve ever seen. It feels…” Mrs. Malfoy gingerly brushed Hermione’s hair from her forehead. The older witch frowned, her brow furrowing as she pressed the back of her hand to the young woman’s forehead, “She’s too cold.” 

Chapter Text

Draco watched as his mother and Madam Pomfrey worked to wrap Granger in blankets with warming charms. His mother was seated at the top of the bed with Hermione’s head in her lap with her fingers on the girl’s temples. He didn’t know what she was doing and his mother would likely not answer. Draco learned long ago that his mother was a powerful witch that hid the fact due to her life in pureblood society. Ever the elegant wife and doting mother, but unlike her sister, she did not see their upbringing as the only and best way to live. But to keep her family and her son safe, she played her part. When his mother began sweating and grimacing, he grew worried.

 “Malfoy, what is your mum doing?” Potter asked, looking confused but keeping away from the bed as the two women helped his best friend. Draco could see the love in Harry’s eyes, the intensity of which surprised him. An ounce of pity appeared at the futility of the boy's feelings for the bonded muggleborn. 

“Honestly, not a clue but she’s definitely trying to help her,” Draco felt the crawling and sandy quality of his mother’s magic spread from the bed and into the room. A glance at Potter told him that he felt it too. Before anything more could be said, the doors of the infirmary burst open with Lupin levitating his godfather into one of the beds. Draco cringed at the bloody, broken, and twitching heap that was Severus Snape. 

Madam Pomfrey rushed to his side, followed by Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster. Privacy screens were pulled around them as they got to work. The lack of noise told him that there were silencing charms up and he was grateful for that. The sounds of bones being reset and healing enchantments being chanted would be too much to bear knowing that it was his godfather suffering. He turned back to his Mother and found Black hovering nearby. 

“Harry, what is she doing?” Black’s eyes looked upon his mother with suspicion. 

“I am funneling my magic into her core,” His mother bit out through gritted teeth, her eyes still closed in concentration. 

“Mum! You can’t do that!” Draco knew there were rules, conditions that must be met to share your magical core with someone else. 

“Draco, your godfather is going to survive because of this girl and I will not let her die! Both of them have barely recovered from the initial bonding, but my core is completely intact. I won’t give her enough to drain me, but if I don’t, she will die,” Her tone brooked no argument. Draco took a deep breath to calm himself. He trusted his mother. But if he knew anything about magical core sharing, Granger was going to end up with another bond if even the slightest thing should go wrong. 

—------------

Severus wavered in and out of consciousness. First, he was being levitated and the night sky looked down upon him. Then, they were in the cold halls of the castle. He couldn’t hear the hurried footsteps he expected, but he knew at least two other people were nearby. The next time he saw anything was with his back against the familiar cushion of a hospital wing bed. The high ceiling of the room was blurry and at the edges he could see Dumbledore, Minerva, and Poppy. 

The relief was enough to override the pain. But it only lasted a moment as he reached out for the bond and found a weak, lukewarm thread. Hermione? He tried to send his magic out to touch hers but felt it bounce back at him. Severus tried again but couldn’t collect enough magic to direct it at the bond. The damage to his body was too much, causing his magic to redirect towards healing. I’m draining her.

The realization came at the same moment that an aftershock from the Cruciatus racked his body. His eyes closed and he focused on the sounds of Poppy crying as she worked, Minerva cursed under her breath, and Dumbledore whispered an incantation. Severus shut out the physical reactions and willed the world to go silent. He did not want to survive if it killed Hermione. He hadn’t even had a chance to free her from this blasted bond, the prison of her own making. 

He was Severus Snape, spy to the Order of the Phoenix, second hand to the Dark Lord himself, there was no way he would die due to the efforts of Dolohov and Macnair. He would be damned if he would allow anyone but the greatest of wizards to rid him of his thrice cursed life. This life was not only his anymore, it was also Hermione’s. He made her a promise that they would make it to the end. Severus Snape kept his promises.

At that thought the familiar hot touch of her magic licked along the bond then disappeared again. It was brief but strong. His magic reached out in search of her and her fiery power met his liquid heat. There was something else, something gritty mixed in with her magic that felt both familiar and foreign. It added a push of energy to the bond that washed over him. He willed his magic to cling to the bond as he finally succumbed to complete exhaustion. 

The sun filtered through the hospital wing windows, alighting on his eyelids and stirring him to wakefulness. Severus took a moment to catalog how his body was feeling. He could tell from the ache around his chest that the broken ribs must have been bad enough that the Medi-witch had seen fit to vanish them and simply regrow new ones. That would explain away some of the horrid taste in his mouth. The stings of small cuts and bruises were nowhere to be found, telling him that anything minor was healed. He was dressed in standard issue pajamas and figured his own robes had been unsalvageable when he didn’t see them sitting on the bedside table. 

After further inspection, the Potions Master didn’t seem to be bleeding and experience told him that the worst of the aftershocks had passed. Severus felt surprisingly healthy all things considered. He would insist upon leaving the infirmary as soon as possible, which was always too early for the Healer’s liking, but he wasn’t fond of being coddled. There were probably a plethora of new scars on his body, and the deeper bruising would need to be treated with salve for a few days. The torture that should have killed him, didn’t, and it was because of Hermione. 

The curtains were still pulled closed around his bed so he wasn’t sure who else was there. An attempt to get up failed before it even began when he sat up and was overcome with a spell of dizziness. Frustrated, he turned himself inward and found the bond weaker than it was a few days before but stronger than last night. Relief flooded through him. The Potions Master could still sense the gritty magic that accompanied the smooth fire of Hermione’s, but so far it seemed safe. 

Now, he just wanted to see her. With a flick of his hand, the curtains parted and he was able to see Hermione, curled into her cot with Potter, again. He tempered his reaction. Hermione was as important to Potter as Lily had been to him. The Weasley boy was happily snoring in the cot a few feet away. It was with morbid fascination that he watched Hermione touch the cheek of the Boy Who Lived. As jealous as he knew he could be, he also knew that Potter and Weasley were her greatest supporters even if they were still ignorant teenage boys. 

“Harry, wake up. Please, Harry,” She whispered. It was so quiet in the room that her voice traveled easily along the expanse between the beds. The bond flared up with jealousy as he watched the young woman run her finger down the boy’s nose and thumb his lip affectionately. 

Slowly, the boy stretched like a languid cat and then pulled the girl closer, snuggling into her neck when he froze, no doubt realizing where he was and what had happened the night before. 

“Hermione! Oh god, you’re okay!” Potter, pulling the girl into a bone-crushing embrace, seemed to think better of it and sat up to look her over as if her injuries from the night before weren’t internal. He smiled broadly at her and hugged her more gently, kissing the top of her head. 

“Of course I’m okay Harry,” The girl smiled in an unburdened way that he hadn’t seen since early that summer. She blushed prettily at his show of affection. Severus reached for her through the bond but she didn’t react, distracted by the boy in front of her. “What’s wrong, Harry? Did something happen? Why are we at Hogwarts?” 

At the girl’s questions, the boy froze in his jubilations. Severus felt his stomach sink ominously. Leaning back, Potter looked her over and asked the obvious question, “Don’t you remember what happened last night? You nearly died!”

The shock on her face was genuine. Her eyes widened and her countenance showed genuine confusion. In a nervous voice she replied, “W-what are you talking about? Seriously, Harry, what is going on? We were just at Grimmauld Place.” 

Potter looked completely lost as his gaze traveled the room and locked with Severus, a pleading look passed over his visage, “Professor Snape! Something’s wrong with Hermione.”

The girl turned her wide-eyed gaze to him and he saw none of the familiarity and vulnerability he had grown accustomed to. Even the dark depression that hovered over her was gone. The bond sang in his chest at the sight of her. His magic seemed to reach out in search of hers and the familiar heat he had come to associate with her presence. But still, it was faint, not quite whole, buried beneath a layer of protection or indecision. Her gaze was not half as piercing as it once was, nor did it hold the suffering that had endeared them to each other. Severus felt his heart clench when she looked confused and concerned, no doubt feeling the bond but not understanding it. 

“Professor Snape, are you hurt?” The warmth in her eyes that he had grown accustomed to was emptier, perfunctory. “Oh no! Was there an attack at Grimmauld Place? Is everyone okay?!”

At the front of the room, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened only wide enough for Draco and Narcissa to slide in, their arms piled with books. When they noticed Hermione, Draco dropped the books onto a chair and hurried over. He grabbed her shoulders in an act of familiarity that made her flinch, though his godson didn’t seem to notice as he smiled at the Gryffindors. “Back with the living, are we, Granger? What’s with the face, Potter? I can’t be happy that my friend didn’t have her magical core weaned into nothingness?”

“Malfoy,” Harry said softly, then turned quickly to Narcissa as she made her way across the room, “Wait, Mrs. Malfoy. The magic you used would…would it alter or remove someone’s memories?”

Hermione suddenly shoved Draco away, and Potter nearly fell to the floor with how she moved. There was a flash of anger and frustration in her countenance, “Stop ignoring me! Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” 

—---------------

Hermione woke up completely disoriented and exhausted. The sun was bright and shining on her from one of the high windows. From the angle it had to be mid-afternoon. She felt too warm and shifted against the body next to her, only to open her eyes and find Harry wrapped around her protectively, his forehead inches from hers. Her breath hitched at the proximity.

Hermione gently pushed some of the covers off of her body to find herself in hospital pajamas and Harry dressed in jeans and a shirt. On the bed next to them Ron was snoring loudly. The normalcy of it made her giggle despite herself. Harry pulled her closer and as she allowed herself to take comfort in his embrace, she closed her eyes. It was not the first time she had shared a bed with Harry, but she couldn’t recall even getting into bed with him.

Why am I in the hospital wing?

Trying not to startle the handsome boy, she gently cupped his cheek and whispered his name, “Harry, wake up. Please, Harry.”

She was admiring his eyelashes and wondered how they had ended up at Hogwarts when they were in Grimmauld Place the night before. Harry’s enthusiastic welcome upon his waking had flustered Hermione to no end. They had always been affectionate but this was different. The subsequent questioning and the events that followed were overwhelming. It was like being dropped in the middle of a book after only reading half of the first chapter. 

They looked at her like she was the crazy one, like she was the one acting strange. First Harry had addressed Professor Snape like he actually respected him, then Draco Malfoy had waltzed into the room and been nice to them, and now Narcissa Malfoy had approached her like a concerned mother. She stood in the middle of the room feeling weak and scared. What had happened to her? “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Miss Granger,” The nearness of the Potions Master’s voice startled her. When she turned to him, he was only a few feet from her, having moved closer from his cot. Her mind strayed for a moment upon seeing him in anything but his dark billowing robes. The odd warmth she had felt when she had looked at him earlier had returned tenfold. It was equal parts comforting and terrifying in its intensity. He continued speaking in an appeasing tone, “It seems you have suffered what we can only hope is a temporary bout of memory loss. You have been through a taxing experience and should be resting while we try to find out what has happened.”

There was a gentleness to his voice that Hermione had never heard before, and a softness in his eyes that she could have never imagined. She took a step towards him and he took a step back. He winced at the movement. He’s injured.

“Professor, you should be in bed, you’re hurt,” She stepped forward and gripped his forearm as he nearly lost balance trying to back away from her. Her hand on his skin sent a fiery hot wave through her body, a velvety warmth that seemed to stream from her head to her toes. She gasped and released him. He had a pained look on his face as he tore his arm from her grasp, practically growling at her proximity.

“Hermione, come on, leave the Professor alone,” Harry was at her side, steering her back across the room. She didn’t miss the look that Harry shared with the Potions Master, although she couldn’t decipher it.

“Godfather,” She heard Malfoy say as he and his mother joined the dark man and helped him back onto his cot. They descended into fervent whispers that were soon silenced as they pulled the curtains around his bed closed and cast a muffliato.

“Come here, Hermione,” Harry said as he sat back on the bed they laid on earlier and pulled her clumsily into his lap, she nearly kneed him in the stomach. She knew she must be flushed to the edge of her hairline. Her deeply buried crush on her best friend was flying to the surface of her mind. Now she was sitting in his lap in a room where there was a Professor, their friend, their enemy, and Mrs. Malfoy!

“Harry!” She smacked his chest firmly, “I could have hurt you.”

“You’d never do that, Hermione,” Harry smirked at her. Before she could reply, a patronus shot out from the curtains of Professor Snape’s hospital bed and bounded out of the room. 

It was at that moment that Ron suddenly woke from his sleep. He looked around with one eye still closed, hair askew and still half asleep. His eyes widened when he saw the two of them, but he didn’t react with jealousy as Hermione expected. Ron didn’t seem fazed at all to their intimate position, instead he smiled brightly,  “Oy! Hermione, you’re awake! We thought Snape had killed you there for a bit!”

“What!” Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. 

“Ron you idiot!” Harry lobbed a pillow at him. 

“Hey! Harry, what the bloody hell was that for? And why are you reacting like that, Hermione? It’s technically true,” Ron grumbled, not seeing the fear on her face at the revelation, “If Mrs. Malfoy hadn’t performed the Healers' Bain and shoved some of her core at you, you’d have been a goner. Well, technically all of them would have been if she didn’t do it right but I guess even a Malfoy can have a mother’s touch.”

The words spouting from Ron’s mouth were incomprehensible. Her head was aching with all the half formed information. Harry said something about altered or removed memories earlier, hadn’t he? What have I forgotten? Oh no! 

“Harry, what’s the date?” Hermione asked.

Harry sighed, “What date do you think it is?”

“It’s July. Two weeks after the end of term. Isn’t it?”

“No, Hermione. It’s not. It’s the first week of December.” 

Chapter Text

“Severus, she deserves to know what she did for you!” Minerva glared at him. 

“I don’t care if she knows that she rid me of the mark, but you will not tell her about the bond. If I occlude well enough she shouldn’t be able to feel it and we have already established that the bond puts more strain on me than on her. She need not be tormented by it while I find a way to break it,” Severus argued. “I will not burden her with it when we also must inform her that her parents have been dead for months. She thinks she obliviated and sent them away only a week ago!” 

“Are you certain that the bond will not react negatively?” Dumbledore asked. 

“She is not screaming in pain when wrapped up in Potter’s arms, which is sign enough that she can stray from the bond without repercussions. If there are any, she will likely shake them off as imagination or something equally dull. She will never come to the conclusion of a soul bond on her own and none of you will give her the idea of it,” Severus pulled on his robes, determined to leave the Hospital wing as soon as the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress removed the sticking charm they had on the curtains around what was once his hospital bed. 

“I think it would benefit Miss Granger to remain in the dark for the time being, Minerva,” Dumbledore said sagely. Severus didn’t like the twinkle in the old man’s eye but he would not question him if he was backing up his desire to keep the bond a secret. “I will talk with those who know of the bond and the need to keep it secret. The girl will suffer enough when she realizes the truth of her parents' passing. Let us spare her further distress for now.” 

Severus twitched at the reminder of the Headmaster’s manipulation concerning the Granger parents. So much had happened to the young woman since July. It would not take much convincing to get Potter and Weasley to keep the bond from the girl. Her current blissful ignorance would not last long with her natural penchant to ask questions. But she deserved to enjoy a bit of carefree life while she could.

“What happens when either of you is in danger again? Hmm?” Minerva pushed.

“That will not happen. I won’t let it. Last night was my own fault for straying from the castle knowing that I was a target. By putting myself in danger, I risked her life. It won’t happen again,” Severus answered vehemently, “I will begin working on a countermeasure to the bond, immediately. If we can remove that burden from the girl, it will be a blessing in a world of suffering. She will already be devastated by everything else.”

“She doesn’t remember performing the ritual! What can you do with so little information?” Minerva forced him to look at her, “You will not tamper with the bond when you have no idea what she did.”

“What the hell do you expect me to do then?” He countered viciously.

“You will find a way to restore her memories. You’re a legilimens, aren’t you? You told me yourself that her mind is as organized and exacting as she is. Her memories were not erased, they are buried. You of all people know what that is like,” She reasoned. Severus sighed, for even he saw the logic in it.

“Fine. But we are in agreement that she must not know about the bonding aspect of the ritual?” He stared hard at the witch and then the Headmaster who both nodded. 

—-------------

“It’s December. It’s been 6 months,” Hermione mumbled to herself. Harry was next to her, holding her hand. She had gone quiet upon hearing the news. Then Dumbledore and McGonagall had arrived, spared them a glance, then went to Snape’s bed, disappearing behind the curtain and sending the Malfoys back into the room. The two immediately went to the bed where they had dropped their books and began flipping through them. 

“Harry, what happened last night?” Hermione asked, looking at her friend imploringly. 

He grimaced, not sure how to explain the last 6 months to her without causing a meltdown. So much had happened to her and he was embarrassed that the one who knew the most about it wasn’t him or Ron but the spy across the room. “I don’t know what to tell you yet, Hermione. So much has happened, huge things. Trust in me that I will tell you all I can when I know you won’t remember on your own. I don’t want to shock you too much. What if it’s like the muggle movies and you have a breakdown from too much information?”

Hermione nodded, but still looked distressed despite her attempt to be understanding, “But last night…Ron said I almost died–that it was because of Professor Snape.”

Harry shot a glare at Ron who looked sheepish. The boy ran his hand through his hair, tugging on it in frustration, “That is technically true but Hermione, Professor Snape could never hurt you.”

“Harry Potter, what could have possibly happened in the last 6 months for you to say something nice about Professor Snape?” The shock in her eyes almost made Harry laugh. Her incredulous tone continued, “And not just that but we are friends with Malfoy now?” 

“You’re friends with Malfoy, he and I have a ceasefire unless you’re not there to mediate,” Harry joked. 

“Ron, you said Mrs. Malfoy did something to me that helped save me, ‘Healer’s something’,” She turned to their friend who was staring at the Malfoys across the room. 

“Healer’s Bain, it’s old healing magic. Mum used to tell us about how her grandmother used it once during a muggle war. You have to be a really good Healer to do it right because if you mess up you could end up overwhelming both you and the other person with your magic. They even say that it can force a bond to accidentally manifest, which obviously isn’t great.  You can’t have a Healer binding themselves to every patient.  It’s not been around for a long time because people were using it as a shortcut rather than a last resort. Not researching enough or following the proper steps was common, which resulted in a lot of witches and wizards dying, or being bound to random people,” Ron glanced back over to the Malfoys, “She’s got to be a really strong witch.”

Harry also looked over at the two blonds who were researching quietly. Could they be working on returning Hermione’s memories? He hoped so. The alternative would be breaking all the news to his best friend and that was not something any of them looked forward to. He almost didn’t want her to know. She was holding herself the way she used to. There was no invisible storm cloud above her head that left a tinge of sadness in every move she made. But could he break the worst news to her? 

“Oy! Pothead, take a picture it will last longer! Don’t want your girlfriend getting jealous of my dashing good looks,” Draco called from across the room. 

“Oh sod off, Malfoy!” Harry shot back, although it was accompanied with a smirk. He squeezed Hermione’s hand when he felt her tense up, probably preparing for the two of them to start arguing. 

“Ya sure you want the Boy Wonder, Hermione? I know you prefer the more mature type,” Malfoy winked at her suggestively.

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise at the familiarity, which made Harry laugh softly. The witch shoved him lightly, before shifting her gaze between the two boys, “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Harry Potter! This is absolutely surreal. You’re being nice to each other! You’re joking around. You just called me Hermione!”

“If I’d known you were going to wake up with no memory I would have shoved Potter off the bed and taken his place. The look on your face would have been priceless. Though Uncle would probably have hexed my bollocks off for getting that close to you,” Malfoy peaked over at the shut curtains of Professor Snapes’s bed. 

“Uncle? Professor Snape is your uncle?” Hermione looked cute with an incredulous expression on her face. 

“Godfather, but uncle has fewer syllables and it annoys him a bit to have people think him and father are blood related,” Malfoy answered with humor dancing in his eyes. It was oddly reassuring to see Malfoy doing better after the ghost he was at the end of the last school year. There was so much to update Hermione on. 

“Why would he hex you if you got close to me?” Hermione’s brow was raised. If he didn’t know better, he would also find the comment off-putting.

“Uh, because he just would,” Malfoy looked over at him. He and his mother had also agreed to keep the news of the past 6 months under wraps for the time being. The blond was grasping at straws for an explanation only for his mother to take over, elegantly closing her book to address the teenagers. 

“Contrary to popular belief, Severus is an honorable man and is especially protective of women in his care. You were asleep, so couldn’t consent to Draco being next to you, and Severus would be offended by the lack of manners. It’s different with Mister Potter because you fell asleep together, you were aware of his presence and quite comfortable with it. Forgive me for saying this but it’s obvious that this isn’t the first time you two have woken up in bed together,” Mrs. Malfoy replied in her soothing voice as she stood and made her way toward them. She had Hermione’s rapt attention. “Hello, Miss Granger. It seems we must introduce ourselves.”

“U-uh, Yes, um hello Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for helping me last night,” Hermione offered her hand which the older witch took in a firm shake that surprised Harry. He was still reconciling the image of a Death Eater’s wife to this caring woman in front of them. 

“Miss Granger, it was my pleasure to help you. I must ask that if you feel odd or that the remnants of my magic are manifesting in you, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I funneled my magic into your core with a temporary connection. That connection should have already been severed and there will be some residual effects that should fade with time,” The witch sighed and looked away, “Unfortunately, the life debt you have now entered with me will not be so easily ended.”

“Is that the pull I feel? Something liquid and hot with a gritty sandy texture. It’s hard to describe. Different from anything else magical I’ve experienced. If I’m honest, there are quite a few new feelings in my head that I’m hoping will go away soon. I feel like I’m being pulled in several directions,” Hermione’s face was pinched as she thought hard. 

“The grit you feel is a manifestation of my magic. I cannot answer for the rest. The Life Debt will feel like a string wrapped around your wrist or ankle,” She explained indulgently. “Forgive me for not explaining it better. I had forgotten that you are a muggleborn and would not know.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Thank you for explaining it. It is all rather fascinating.” Hermione’s tone gave away her interest in the subject. 

“You’re already thinking about going to the library to research, aren’t you?” Harry teased her. She swatted at him and startled when the curtains to Snape’s bed were pushed aside with a flourish to reveal the Potions Master, Headmaster, and Head of Gryffindor. 

—--------

Severus had built the walls of his occlusion so tall and sound that he was nearly disassociating. But it was the only way he would be able to bear facing her, knowing that she wasn’t the Hermione he had come to know. The flourish of the curtain made sure that all eyes were on them as they strode forward. He felt Dumbledore cast a locking and silencing charm on the door. 

He did his best not to look in her direction, but he still saw from his periphery how she was practically glued to Potter’s side. He slammed another wall down in his mind, locking away the green ooze of jealousy. She was alive, he should be happy with that. The jealousy was amplified by the bond, but he was still in control. 

“Miss Granger, would you join Poppy in her office? She would like to do a general check of your overall health, though we expect you to spend at least another night here,” Dumbledore gestured toward the matron who beckoned the girl over. It was a thinly veiled tactic to get Hermione out of the room. Severus almost sneered when he noticed Potter’s questioning gaze directed at the Headmaster. He would gladly let the boy learn for himself that the Headmaster was more calculating than he appeared. 

Once Hermione was safely ensconced in the office and a silencing spell cast, Dumbledore beckoned everyone around two empty beds so they weren’t speaking across the entire room. 

“Now, as we have all come to discover, Miss Granger is without her memories of the past 6 months. That includes any activities at Grimmauld place, the ritual, and the reason for her physical distress last night. We–” He gestured to Severus and Minerva, “have decided that it is in Miss Granger’s best interest to be informed only of her involvement in removing the dark curses upon Severus, including the mark. With the other news that she will have to absorb, we feel that the bond can be withheld from her for the time being.”

Minerve huffed loudly, showing her disagreement but not saying anything in protest. Weasley looked contemplative, Narcissa sent the former Death Eater a questioning look that told him she would corner him later. His godson nodded along and Potter looked distressed. 

“She’ll still feel it though, won’t she?” Potter glanced at the closed office door. 

Severus sighed, “I will do my best to block the bond with my occlumency. With the stronger effects of the bond directed solely at myself, it will be easier for me to keep most of the…sensations away from Miss Granger. She will feel a pull, that without an explanation she is unlikely to question, one can hope. Proximity would make it stronger but even then as long as we are not physically touching, the bond will be negligible to her.”

“What of you Severus? The bond would have you seek her out. Even if only for her presence and assurance of her safety, especially after this attack. If I hadn’t stepped in, she would have died. The bond will urge you to protect her.” Narcissa looked frustrated, wringing her hands together. 

“I will manage, as I always have. I plan to break the bond before she has any reason to suspect it or search for answers,” Severus assured the room, “Thank you for stepping in when you did, Narcissa. I know how risky that was, even with the skills I know you possess.”

“She must be willing for the bond to be broken, Severus, even if you can figure out how to break it,” Minerva interjected, “This is Hermione Granger, she will ask questions sooner than you think. You won’t be able to figure out the ritual without knowing the modifications she made. The bond is honestly the least of our concerns.” 

“Minerva is right. We must first address how close Tom’s followers are coming to the school. Harry, we have work ahead of us that you must take the reins on. Perhaps, Mister Weasley and Miss Granger will find it a worthwhile endeavor to help you with the task I have set forth before you,” Dumbledore was twinkling bright as ever and Severus didn’t like it. There was information the Headmaster had kept from him and it seemed the Golden Trio had been made privy to it. It hurt his pride to know that the Headmaster still didn’t trust him fully, though it wasn’t completely surprising. Miserly old fool.

“Yes, Professor,” Potter replied, looking apprehensively around the room. He worried his lip and had a knuckle-whitening hold on the bed nearest him.  It was at that moment that Severus was reminded, despite the terrors the boy had faced, he was still only 17. Whatever task Dumbledore had decided to give the boy, he needed to know what it was. If only to help him so that this war may finally reach a conclusion. 

Dumbledore looked around the room, “I will send out word that we will hold an order meeting here on the first day of Winter holiday. This should give Miss Granger enough time to reacquaint herself with the current goings on and possibly return her memory to her.”

There were nods around the room although a somber mood had fallen over the group. The Headmaster waved his hand and the door to Poppy’s office opened. Hermione flushed in embarrassment as everyone turned to look at her. He wanted to envelope her in his arms and hide her away from prying eyes. With that thought stabbing at him, Severus swiftly left the room, counting on Potter and the rest of them to tell her whatever was necessary. 

—---------------

Draco watched his Uncle rush out and then shared a look with his mother. She nodded her head and he took it as a signal to follow him out the door, but not before stopping to grab a few of the books he had been looking at earlier. It surprised him how his godfather could be on his deathbed earlier that morning and was already gliding down the numerous stairs without issue. 

“Uncle!” Draco called out. 

The Potions Master’s cloak billowed around him menacingly as he turned around. If he didn’t trust the man with his life, Draco would have been scared shitless. But instead he noticed the bead of sweat dripping down the older man’s temple. With a sigh he took the man’s arm, “Let me help you before you pass out. You’re worse than Father when it comes to running about before you’re healed. Though you hide the pain better. Have you forgotten you were literally maimed less than twelve hours ago?”

His godfather glared at him silently but still leaned into him for support. He must truly be hurting if the man didn’t have the energy for a witty biting comeback. Thankfully, the rest of the castle was still enjoying supper, and with a few shortcuts Draco was practically dragging the man into his quarters. Dumping the lanky professor onto his bed, Draco put his hands on his hips and stared down, “You and Granger are perfect for each other, Uncle. I swear I’ve never met such a bullheaded pair in my life.”

His Uncle let out a noise like a growl that was muffled by the pillow he currently had his face stuffed into. Draco smirked, “Oh hush, don’t make me tell mum you nearly passed out on the third floor.”

“You are insufferable,” Snape snarled as he sat up, with some difficulty.

“I thought that was Hermione’s pet name?” Draco grinned and dodged the pillow his Uncle threw at his head. “I’m glad my presence brings you such energy. But before I leave you to brood, here.”

Draco pulled out the shrunken books from his pocket and returned them to their usual size. He dumped them on the bed next to Snape and opened one particularly old text. When he found his spot he turned the book to Snape and pointed at the title, Un Anima Duo. “We had one of our house elves bring us some of the books from the Manor. Mum thinks this is the ritual Hermione used, if it's not, then it might be one of the others in that book. I know Dumbledore said that breaking the vow wasn’t a top priority but after seeing what it did to the two of you, Mum and I decided to help in any way we could.”

Snape ran his fingers over the words on the page and breathed deeply. “Thank you, Draco.”

“I still think you two would be a decent match, despite how decrepit you are,” Draco cackled. 

“Get out, you little shit!” Snape yelled after him as he ran out of the room

Chapter Text

By the time Hermione had been released from the hospital wing, she knew that there was more to the last 6 months than anyone was telling her. She could feel the life debt she owed to Narcissa Malfoy. There was a suspicious magical warmth in the back of her consciousness that she couldn’t quite locate. Her mind library had been nearly untouched except for a stack of books on a table next to the armchair. No matter what she did, her hands passed through the pile as if she were a ghost. She knew those must be her memories. Now she just needed to figure out why she couldn’t open them. 

There was a third magical link she could feel that was faint, felt velvety and fresh like Harry’s magic, wrapped like a ribbon on her left pinky finger. She had considered asking him about it but something in her mind told her to keep it to herself. Was it another life debt? It wouldn’t be so farfetched to think she owed one to Harry, but in that case she would have felt this one long before now. The fact that she could feel Mrs. Malfoy's had a lot to do with the amount of magic she had exerted to save her. The complexity of magical bonding was far beyond her comprehension at the moment. 

Then there was the new found affection Harry was showing her. It was not unwelcome and no one seemed to be surprised about the fact. Ron, who she expected to feel a bit put out, hadn’t said a single thing against it. Although the ginger was also a bit more affectionate than usual and had reminded her that she nearly died so he needed to ‘get his hugs in now’. (That had earned him a smack to the shoulder and a laugh.) Harry was by her side nearly the whole day and a half in the infirmary while she let Madam Pomfrey fret over her. 

As the week wore on, however, things began to grate on her. From the sudden change in conversation topics, to the way Harry was always hovering at her side, she could feel the tension of holding back secrets. There was a distinct notion that although Harry had affection for her, he did not make any overtures about wanting to date, though everyone assumed that they had some kind of arrangement. She had also noticed some pitying looks sent Harry’s way from a very unlikely pair, Ron and Draco. 

Even stranger was the Potions Master. From what she had been told, she had taken it upon herself to risk her life to remove his mark. Something that truly had never crossed her mind and had now brought her under the ire of the Headmaster. The man in question treated her only slightly differently. Professor Snape did not berate her or Harry in class to her utter surprise. She had attempted to make eye contact with him across the Great Hall or during Potions but he acted like she didn’t exist. Hermione would have given up on him but for the sensation of desperately wanting his attention. It was unnerving. 

By the following Friday, Harry had asked her to meet him in the Room of Requirement after their classes. The serious look on his face had worried her, but Hermione had agreed and hugged her best friend while he kissed her forehead before he left the Great Hall for his afternoon classes.

The rest of the day continued without incident until she was making her way up to the 7th floor to meet Harry, running late after stopping to talk to Professor Flitwick about a report. In her haste, she turned a corner at a near run and slammed straight into the solid form of Professor Snape. They fell unceremoniously into a heap on the floor. The groan he let out sent a shiver down her spine.

“Oh! Professor, I’m so sorry!” Hermione hurried to say as she pushed herself up, only to realize that she was sprawled across the man and a liquid heat had washed over her. Their eyes locked and for a moment she thought she saw something in his eyes that was far more than the stoicism he always had when she was present. Up close she could see how much younger he looked. It had escaped her notice at first, but the girls in the common room had been commiserating over the Professor’s appearance the last couple of days. 

His hair looked healthy and thick, her fingers itched to run through it. He looked his age, she would guess, which was a huge improvement considering how much older he looked before. It had always surprised her that Professor Snape had been classmates with the likes of the Marauders. His skin was healthy and didn’t have the slightly malnourished pallor that it once had; probably due to a vitamin D deficiency with how much time he spent in the dungeons.

There was something very austere about him, he looked sturdier and stronger. His eyes were rimmed with long pitch black lashes that Hermione instantly coveted. She stared into his black gaze that flashed with something like desire. The warmth in the back of her mind flared and met the liquid heat head on. She gasped from the intensity of it. He was frozen beneath her, barely breathing as she traced a finger down the center of his brow and to the tip of his nose. Hermione dared to touch her finger tip to his shallow cupid's bow when she was thrown off of the Professor with such force she hit the wall next to them. 

“20 points from Gryffindor for running in the halls and a detention tomorrow with Filch for unseemly behavior towards a teacher!” He growled at her as he rather gracelessly got to his feet. The Professor looked shocked when he realized how hard he had shoved her, guilt darkening his visage.

Hermione rubbed the back of her head and fought the sudden onslaught of tears from the pain and the verbal abuse. She glared up at the Professor whose face softened in worry. 

“Miss Granger, are you injured?” He offered her a hand but she ignored it, using the wall as leverage to pick herself back up. 

“I’m fine,” She snapped at him, frustrated by the dizziness that took her vision once she was upright again. “I guess I should see Filch tomorrow before classes to talk about my detention.”

Hermione didn’t look at him, not wanting to shed any tears in front of the former spy. Remembering what had supposedly happened between them, she finally looked up. He was closer now, scrutinizing her with his dark eyes. With no room to step back, her body went still as he grabbed her chin, examining her. His deep voice rolled over her like melted chocolate, “I suggest you head to the hospital wing. I apologize for the force of my removal of you, Granger.”

His apology took her by surprise while the heat of that magical connection flared again at his touch. Could she owe him a life debt? Could both people feel it if they made one? It was so intense in a way that her life debt to Mrs. Malfoy had never felt, even in her presence. She felt an anxiety attack coming on and slipped from his grasp, “I-I’ll go see, Madam Pomfrey.” 

Then she was off. She didn’t see the stricken face of the Professor, who stood flexing the fingers that had dared to touch her. Hermione also didn’t notice that Professor Dumbledore had witnessed the exchange from a sheltered alcove down a side hallway. Instead, she took a lap from where she knew the Room of Requirement was and the Hospital Wing. Once she was reasonably sure that Snape had returned to the dungeons, she went to the Room of Requirement, entering into a room similar to the common room. 

“Hermione,” Harry greeted her warmly, getting up from the cozy couch to wrap his arms around her. The feeling on her pinky emitted a smooth, coolness that soothed her immediately. 

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed by everything, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. The tears came unbidden and rather than asking what was wrong, Harry pulled her towards the couch and into his lap, shushing her gently. It didn’t take long for her to grow tired and frustrated with herself. 

“Hermione, did something happen?” Harry tipped her chin up to meet his gaze, so reminiscent of the Professor that it sent a shiver through her body. He pulled her closer, thinking she must be cold. 

“I just feel so lost, Harry. Most people are treating me the same, but the people that matter,  you, Ron, Professor McGonagall; you all look at me like I might break. Then there’s Professor Snape!” Hermione summoned a table with a full set of tea for them. She busied herself with making their cups. 

The hand Harry had been running up and down her back stilled, “What about Professor Snape?”

“He is avoiding me! I’ve tried to talk to him and ask him about the ritual, maybe learn more about the Dark Mark, but I swear he sees me in the hallways and turns the other direction!” Hermione ranted, “Then I bumped into him before I came here and he takes house points and gives me a detention! You would think he would be more grateful!”

Harry sat up straighter and grabbed her by the arms, making her look at him. There was something in his voice that felt more like jealousy than his normal protectiveness, “Hermione, did anything else happen?” 

She was surprised by the tinge of panic in his eyes. Without thinking she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek with the hand that held the invisible bond. It seemed to sing in her bones at the contact. His eyes softened immediately as he leaned into her touch. She dropped her voice to the soothing tone she knew he liked, “Harry, nothing happened. I had to apologize because I knocked him over. It was quite awkward. He pushed me off so hard that I slammed into the wall but I’m okay. It was more shocking than anything else and he did apologize for that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry’s brow furrowed with concern. 

“Yes. Frustrated but otherwise I’m fine. What did you want to talk about, Harry?” Hermione allowed herself to relax in his embrace.

Harry’s expression turned serious. He shifted so that Hermione slipped from his lap and sat next to him. The warmth of his hand as she laced their fingers together was familiar. That feeling of magic around her pinky was bright. She examined her pinky with interest. It’s definitely a bond with Harry. But what was it for?  The information was just out of her reach. 

“Hermione, it’s about your parents…”Harry started, grabbing her attention. She searched his eyes and saw only sorrow in them. 

Hermione felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, unbidden. There was a thick pain in her chest at the mention of her parents, “What happened? I sent them away. They are safe, aren’t they?”

Harry kissed her knuckles and then met her eyes, a few tears already slipping from the corner of his eyes. He took a deep breath before speaking, “They are gone, Hermione. You sent them away but they…you said they passed a few weeks before term.”

The air left Hermione’s lungs. She remembered distinctly altering their memories and sending them to Australia after finalizing a deal with their ministry. The tears cascaded down her cheeks and a sob choked her words, “But I-I sent them a-away Harry! They were supposed to be safe far FAR AWAY!”

She struggled to stand up and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like her chest was being torn in half. “Did HE send Death Eaters to them? Why didn’t the Order know? Couldn’t Professor Snape have warned us if they were going to be attacked?”

Her entreaties only made Harry look more sorrowful and apologetic as he replied, “I don’t have answers to that, Hermione. I had barely found out that they were gone before Snape was attacked. You kept it a secret. I have no idea how they died.”

“No no no no no NO! Don’t lie to me! Why wouldn’t I tell you? It must have been his followers, who else could it have been!” She grabbed him by his shirt, forcing herself to speak through the sobs. “How could they not have known?! W-why did the Order let them die? Why did you let them die!”

She pounded her fists into his chest but he held fast until she was sobbing mournfully against him, sinking to her knees. Harry was also crying, as he held her, speaking softly into her ear, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I couldn’t even save them. I should have been able to save them. What good is magic if it can’t keep the people I love alive!” Her voice sounded broken, stuffy and moving towards fury. Hermione was swiftly rushing from denial to anger. The magic in question started manifesting around them. Furniture and books were soon strewn around the room. “It should have been ME!”

She barely registered her magic flying out of her. Harry stumbled backward but still caught her when she crumbled to the floor, weeping loudly. Steadfast, Harry pulled her into his lap and held her through her grief. 

—--------------

Severus stood against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, his fingers flexing against the cold metal, the only barrier between him and a long fall. He knew that Potter was informing Hermione of her parents. It was the only explanation for the intense waves of grief that had started an hour earlier. The bond had flared up and urged him to go to her but he had ignored it, bitterly. She would not want comfort from him. 

Keeping himself away from her had been for her peace and his own. He knew she had wanted to ask about the ritual but he wasn’t yet ready to be alone with her after her memory loss. He’d been occluding to the point of dysfunction. But had tamped it down to only when she was nearby, whether in class or the Great Hall. Potions class with her was a torture all its own. He had caught himself looking at her while she worked, admiring the curve of her neck, the exact movement of her hands, even the sound of her voice. All while seeing Potter pander to her every whim. 

At the thought of the cursed boy he scoffed. Of course the boy had a bond with Hermione too, it couldn’t just be Fate’s gift to him to attach him to the young woman. Instead it was yet another trial he would have to weather on his own. When Narcissa had informed him of the bond he had nearly punched a wall. His control of his emotions flagged at the revelation.

It was late in the afternoon, a day or so after his kidnapping. Poppy had sent him an owl to remind him to change the last bandages on the lashes on his back or she would be forced to come to his quarters to do it herself. Severus had insisted he would be able to do it. In reality he had to summon Narcissa with a house elf to assist him. 

“Severus, you stubborn cow,” She had tsked and sat him down quickly. Narcissa continued to nag him over his shoulder in the way only a good friend could without being rebuked, “I know it must be difficult for your Bonded to not remember you, but you cannot neglect yourself. You should have stayed in the infirmary at least another day.”

“What do you make of the bond, Narcissa? I know you can see it. I’d considered bringing you here to look at it but I daresay we have been quite busy,” He sneered, only to wince when she tore the bandages off more rough than necessary. The Potions Master felt her finish adding a bit of dittany to the last wounds that were finally free of infection. The softness of her hands as she bandaged him was soothing enough to make the tenseness leave his shoulders. 

Once she was done, she took a seat in front of him while he pulled his shirt back on. She met his dark gaze as she replied, “It’s a deep bond, very strong. Without knowing the components of the ritual there’s no way to figure out the specifics. Draco gave you the book with the original ritual, but I’m sure you noticed that the girl had really only kept the structure of it. Her changes were significant.”

“I had come to that conclusion as well. If she regains her memory, we would have more information. If she doesn’t, then I will have to work even harder to find a way to break the bond.” Severus dropped his head into his hands, trying not to think of Potter and how he had so comfortably held the young woman in his arms. 

“Severus, you’re not the only one who has a bond with her,” Narcissa eyed him as he jerked his head up. 

“She has another bond?” 

“Yes. Other than yours and the life debt she owes me, there is a smaller, weaker bond. I don’t know what it is but it seems to be fairly recent as well. Not more than a year old. It’s not a soul bond, but there is a tinge of darkness to it,” The Malfoy mistress frowned as she tried to recall the bond, “It seems familiar. Like something mentioned in a book I read or said in passing without fanfare.”

“Who is the bond with?” Severus already knew the answer. The girl was predictably self-sacrificing. 

“Harry Potter,” She confirmed his prediction. 

“Of course! Of course I become magically bonded to a woman only for her to run into Potter’s arms!” He stood up and practically stomped his way around the room, trying not to give in to the urge to break something. Severus knew it was childish but the angst-ridden teen in him had reappeared at the familiar pain of losing to a Potter. 

Narcissa smacked his shoulder, “None of that. Your compulsion toward Miss Granger is deeper and stronger, practically sentient. I’m almost certain Potter has no idea he is bonded with her. It seems your little Gryffindor Princess has been playing with bonds long before the one she used on you.” 

He crossed the room and poured firewhiskey into two glasses, then handed the other to Narcissa. Severus sipped at his drink, not wanting to sit but finding it difficult to not start pacing. He felt her eyes on him, inquisitively taking him in before speaking again, “You shouldn’t concentrate on breaking the bond, Severus. It may come in handy later. Look how it helped you just yesterday”

The dark man glared at her and scoffed, “I will not risk her life again. Yesterday was unfortunate and entirely my own fault.”

“I didn’t want to have to say this, but Severus the bond may be unbreakable,” Narcissa said forcefully. 

“Don’t tell me that,” He gritted out.

“I have seen bonds all my life, Severus. I know the depth and strength of them. I have never seen one so embedded, entwined, and powerful as the one I see wrapped around you. Not even the Dark Mark was buried this deeply,” Narcissa sighed heavily. “You cannot break the bond unless she also wants to break it. Draco said the effects of the bond are uneven. The hold it has on you is stronger to prevent you from breaking it. The only way to free both of you is for her to be the one to break the bond, and to do that she has to: 1. Remember the original ritual, 2. Want to break it for her own gain, and 3. Make sure breaking the bond will not damage your magical cores. And that’s all if the ritual itself wasn’t so convoluted that she can figure out how to reverse it.”

Severus felt another harsh wave of grief that pulled him out of his reverie. As far as he was concerned, nothing was impossible when it came to experimental magic. He would not entertain the thought of forcing the girl to stay bonded to him. Another pulse of sadness and rage rolled over him. He couldn’t help himself and sent soothing magic through the bond, hoping it would help her calm down. The brave girl had truly been through too much. 

He hated how helpless he felt. Worse was the disgust he carried with him as he continued to desire Hermione. The memories of their passionate kisses and her voice as she told him she wanted him had plagued his mind. He knew it was all because of the bond, regardless of any foolish thoughts he had about her before it. The bond was thrumming inside him, frustrated at the distance he had kept from the object of his affections. 

The man recalled the collision with the young woman earlier that night. The weight of her on top of him as they fell to the floor had sent heat straight to his core. He could still smell her gourmand heavy scent on his robes. When she had touched his face and then dared to touch his lip, he was focused on how beautiful she looked without the haunting shadow behind her eyes. He couldn’t get away fast enough. 

The sound of her smacking into the wall because of him had registered too late. He had already taken points from her and given her a detention. She had refused his help with obvious anger but his worry had taken hold of him and he had touched her again, imploring her to see Poppy. The guilt weighed heavy on him. He had hurt her so much already. Yet there was so much still for her to find out. 

Not for the first time he cursed the Headmaster. When Severus finally tells her about the old man’s manipulation, the shadow would be back in her eyes in full force. It would only get darker as the days progressed. 

—-------------

Harry tucked Hermione into her bed in her room. She had cried herself into exhaustion. He berated himself for telling her about her parents without finding out more about their deaths. Not being able to answer her questions made everything so much worse. 

He brushed her hair away from her face and sat with her, contemplating how she would react when she learned more. The death of her parents had been a factor in her journey to the Astronomy Tower. The realization made his stomach turn. This time they would all be there to make sure she didn’t take it that far. 

Hermione stirred and gripped his hand, blinking sleepily as she moved further into the bed, “Stay, I don’t want to be alone.”

Harry acquiesced, kicking off his shoes and placing his glasses on her bedside table. Then he turned down the covers so he could join her. He wrapped an arm around her as she curled into his side and placed her head on his shoulder, breathing in against his neck. Laying next to Hermione only solidified his feelings for her. With a kiss to her forehead he settled into sleep, knowing in his soul that he was right where he needed to be, bonds be damned. 

—------------- 

Draco cast a stasis charm on his potion and took a look around the room. At the table in front of him, Hermione and Potter had also cast their charms and had started to write down the homework assignment. He watched as Potter stood close enough to Hermione to bump his arm against hers repeatedly. The Slytherin had observed the two Gryffindors flirting during the entire class. 

He dared to glance at his godfather a few times while he brewed and had only caught him once staring at Hermione with a disconcerted expression. Without the knowledge of the past 6 months, it seemed that Hermione wasn’t so averse to the attention from the Boy-Who-Lived. Looking at the Potions Master now as he surveyed the room, he could see how Snape’s knuckles grew white from the firm hold he had on his biceps when he crossed his arms. Draco would never say it to him, but he felt a touch of pity for his godfather. The bond would grow unbearable before long, especially without Hermione getting near him. 

“You had all better hope your potions are stable or they won’t survive until next class. If they don’t, you’ll get a zero for the day. Dismissed!” Snape called out and then returned to his desk. 

“I’ll take that, Hermione.” Potter smiled stupidly at Hermione who blushed. God, the boy was an idiot. 

With a swish of his wand Hermione’s bag was in the air between them, “Chivalry doesn’t suit you Pothead, especially with that hair.” 

“Jealous a girl actually likes me, ferret?” Potter shot back with a smirk. 

Draco rolled his eyes, “You sure she likes you or just doesn’t want to break her back with all the books she has in here?”

“Draco! There aren’t that many books this time!” Hermione argued, laughing along. It had taken a couple of days, but she had warmed up to the friendship again, especially once she realized they were partners in Arithmancy. 

Hermione took Harry’s hand and pulled him towards the classroom door, behind Dean Thomas and Ron. Draco followed with her bag bobbing behind him. He turned one last time to look at his godfather. Their eyes met and Draco would swear on his fortune that the Potions Master was in physical pain. His dark gaze fixed on Hermione’s retreating curls, his mouth pressed into a tight line. There was no mistaking his longing. Draco stopped at the door, mindful of any other students nearby, he addressed him with his title, “Are you alright, Professor?”

“Catch up with your friends, Draco,” The man stood and turned to clear the chalkboards, shoulders stiff. 

“Never thought you would call a group of Gryffindors my friends, did you Professor?” He attempted to break the tension. 

The Professor paused, and turned, “You’d be surprised. I had hoped you might one day find a friend in that house. Nothing better than a Gryffindor to remind you how important subtlety and self-control are.” 

Surprised by his answer, Draco tilted his head and asked, “Did you ever have any Gryffindors as friends, Uncle?”

There was a flash of something in his godfather’s eyes that quickly disappeared. “Just one.”

“I think you mean two. Whoever the first one was and Hermione,” Draco reminded him, “We’ll get her to rights soon enough. I’ll keep Potter’s hands to himself.”

Before Snape could respond, Hermione appeared behind Draco. 

“Draco, come on. We’ll be late for lunch,” Hermione smiled at him, then looked at the front of the room, “Have a good day, Professor Snape.”

Draco watched her smile at Snape before turning back to him. Hermione took him by the hand and led him out of the room. As he walked he thought about the way Snape looked at Hermione, and how his eyes had softened at the smile directed at him. 

Chapter Text

“Harry, why didn’t I tell you about my parents?” Hermione asked from her position on his chest. They were nestled in her bed after they had finished working on some essays. 

Harry sighed and felt the guilt seep in again. He could feel the tell-tale curve of her pinky around his, a habit she had developed since her time in the hospital wing. The fingers of his other hand combed through the ends of her curly hair. This had also become a habit since her memory loss a week ago. He hadn’t seen his bed, except when he would go up to change before classes. Hermione was plagued with nightmares that she never remembered upon waking but always resulted in tears streaming down her face. 

“Honestly, Hermione. We were so focused on the horcruxes and making plans, I think you wanted to make sure I wasn’t distracted,” He sat up and pulled her up with him so he could look in her eyes, “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me. I tried all summer to be by your side and show you how I feel, but I messed up. I was thinking about the big picture and didn’t see how much danger you and your family were in. I should have protected them.” 

Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes as he imagined what could have happened to the Grangers who had always greeted him so nicely at the train station every year. He felt his friend thumb away his tears before she spoke, “I forgive you, Harry. Even if I remember everything later. I forgive you.”

Her eyes were glassy as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Harry fisted his hand into her curls as his eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips. The words of devotion slipped from his lips with a weight to them that startled them both, “Hermione, I promise. From now on, you can tell me anything. You can rage at me, nag me, boss me around forever. So don’t ever leave me. I need you. I’ll always need you.”

“Never,” Hermione let out with a breath before she leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. He pulled her close as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of her lips. When she gasped at the touch of their tongues, he answered her with a moan. Harry relished the feel of her hand in his hair, tugging lightly while her free hand gripped his shirt. Another gasp from the beautiful girl and he became painfully aware of the bulge in his pants. 

He felt her hands glide down to his chest and push slightly. Bossy even like this. He thought, amused as he leaned back into the headboard and pulled her more firmly against him. But her hands on his chest shoved harder and became more insistent. Before he could get his upper brain to start working, she bit his lip and shoved him hard. 

Hermione scrambled away from him to the end of the bed. Her hands were clutching at her chest and she was hyperventilating. 

“Hermione? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Harry tried to reach for her but she jumped off the bed. 

She held herself, clutching her chest and through gritted teeth replied, “It hurts. Why does it hurt?”

Harry got out of the bed and approached her but she backed up. Hurt lanced through his chest at the flash of fear in her eyes. He dropped his hands and sighed, “Come back to bed, Hermione.”

“Harry, I think you should go.” Hermione backed up into the dresser behind her, still holding herself. 

“Hermione, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you,” Harry insisted, grasping at the comfort they had shared as it slipped away.

“No, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I-I just need to be alone for a bit, Harry. I think I’ve been clinging onto you a bit too much. I have to try and work through my feelings on my own. You understand that, don’t you?” She looked at him imploringly. 

He did. Harry remembered all the times he hid himself away trying to figure his future out and the worry he had after Sirius’s close call. The young man nodded to her then picked up his school bag from the chair nearby. He tried to sound reassuring, “You know where to find me if you need me.” 

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione mumbled, still keeping her distance.

“Just promise me one thing?” Harry took a step forward but lifted his hands, as if to show that he wouldn’t come closer. 

“Anything,” Hermione graced him with a soft smile. 

“Don’t go to the Astronomy Tower,” The words were solemn to his ears, but she only looked curious. He hadn’t approached that topic, knowing he was not the best source of that information, and truthfully the guilt he felt about it made it hard for him to think about. 

Her brow rose questioningly, then she nodded and replied, “It’s nearly curfew, Harry. But yes I promise. Go, I’m sure McGonagall won’t be so lenient with us for much longer so just come back tomorrow night.” 

He nodded once more, and tentatively took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles before heading out the portrait entrance. He vowed he would slow down and let Hermione lead from now on.

—----------------

Severus had been in bed when he felt the pull of the bond. The sharp stab of pain and distress made him want to fly out and find her. But rational thought told him she was with Potter. She was always with Potter. The pain was probably a result of something…intimate. The professor threw an arm over his face, willing the jealousy down behind his occlumency shields. He had been doing so well recently with keeping his mind off his feelings for her that went beyond that of a teacher and a student. 

Severus had instead flung himself into planning with Dumbledore and acting, by all intents and purposes, as a war advisor. They had established Lucius’s role as the new spy for the Order, which worked well considering the Malfoy had risen to great favor of the Dark Lord following his public renouncing and disowning of his wife and son. Without Severus there as the evil wizard’s right hand, Lucius was primed to take his place and did so quickly. How the rest of the Order would take it, he could only guess.

When he wasn’t in the Headmaster’s office, or the classroom, he was in his quarters pouring over the books that Narcissa and Draco had found containing the original ritual. The two could often be found in his living room, perusing through books and bouncing ideas off each other. Narcissa had not put to bed the idea of maintaining the bond. She still looked for the opportunities in which she could implore Severus to keep the bond now that he was a personal target of the Dark Lord. She had been vehement about it.

Earlier That Week

“Without any more details we won’t be able to move any closer to a solution,” Narcissa huffed in frustration, pushing the papers away from her and shutting the book she had been looking through.

“Mum’s right, Uncle,” Draco slouched on the couch, also shutting an ancient tome that issued a puff of dust, “There are hundreds of variations to the ritual that would result in most of the current effects.”

“We do not have the option of more details,” Severus replied gruffly as he flipped angrily through a Norse book on bonding that he had been translating. 

“Can’t you just use legilimency on her? You said it is likely that the memories are suppressed rather than lost, right? So just go in there and pull them out,” The young Malfoy stood and draped his arms around his mother’s shoulders as she sat across from Severus at the small side table.

“Even if I wanted to go that route, I doubt Miss Granger would be so willing to allow me into her head. It would also be a more complicated endeavor than simply ‘pulling them out’ as I am not trying to damage the girl’s psyche,” Severus sighed, looking at his godson. 

“She let you in before. Plus the bond must be annoying as it is with Potter and her stuck like glue. I’ve tried to convince her to come down for our daily tea with you after classes, but he’s been dragging her off,” Draco looked thoughtful, “Can you feel when they are together? I haven’t seen them do anything in public, but Potter’s already insinuated that they’ve kissed and from what Weaselby’s said he hasn’t been sleeping in the boys’ dormitory.”

Severus closed his eyes and focused on not allowing despair to come over him. Or worse a jealous rage. He gritted out, “I know when the bond is…threatened but my mastery at occlumency keeps it from causing me any harm. I am not sure how…far… she can push the bond before it retaliates against her.” 

“So what are you going to do to win her back? Should I lure her to the Room of Requirement? Or are you going to give her detentions? You could always fall back to Occlumency lessons and make her spend time with you. ‘Forced Proximity’,” Draco flopped back down on the sofa, acting as if he were asking normal questions and not about how his godfather would try to seduce one of his classmates. 

“Draco, go back to Slytherin house, it’s getting late,” Narcissa commanded calmly. The young blond started to complain but the look on his mother’s face was all the encouragement he needed. 

With his school bag on his shoulder and a nod, Draco left the two adults alone. Silence reigned as Narcissa kept her gaze on Severus, who did his best to avoid eye contact.

“It’s starting to become painful, isn’t it?” Her tone told him she already knew the answer. 

“It’s nothing more than I can handle,” Severus sat up straight, employing his intimidating professor stance. 

“Severus, for one who hates idiots so much, you are acting like one,” Narcissa snapped her fingers and a house elf arrived and took away the remains of the tea service they had partook earlier in the evening. 

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. His snark coming out in full force, “What would you have me do, Narcissa? Hmm? Seduce her like your dear son suggested?”

“Quit this infernal attempt to break the bond and instead fulfill its needs. From what we have discovered, it should make your magic more powerful, yes, the cost is high should you meet mortal danger, but the benefits until then are too good to ignore. We are at war, Severus. You are as high on his kill list as Harry Potter. My husband won’t be far behind,” Narcissa was fierce and eloquent before him, “You have been given a boon. A man who can walk into a battle knowing he will survive is a man who will be able to do all he can to make sure those around him survive. Can’t you see? Can’t you accept the gift she has given you?”

“Gift? Yes, but a parting gift. She did not intend to be used as a revival point,” Severus stood and began to pace, “She has sacrificed enough and yet is willing to give more. You would have me bleed her dry?” 

“She would bleed herself dry! You must reconnect with her. If she continues with Potter and they consummate an innate physical bond, you will suffer,” He scoffed, but the formidable woman ranted on, “They already have a bond in place, throw in their love for each other and a night for them to join and they may yet create a soul bond so deep that it will threaten your own.” 

“Then that will be the solution. Potter and Miss Granger can bond completely, defeat the Dark Lord, and live happily ever after with curly dark haired know-it-all babies and I can finally rest in peace as the bond kills me in retaliation,” Severus bit down on his cheek to stop the grimace that threatened to erupt at the quant picture he had painted. A wave of thrumming soreness came over him, the bond was not pleased. “Well one can only hope, considering we have no real idea the parameters of this damned ritual.”

“How badly did it hurt you to say that?” Narcissa’s eyes held deep sympathy. The Potions Master clenched and unclenched his fists, eyes to the ground. “Severus, do you really believe she held no regard for you prior to the ritual? There is something there. A bond born of a ritual this old would not hold without the willingness of the caster.” 

“Whatever regard she had for me would have amounted to nothing in the end. She is my student and will remain my student. I will not force her to remember the pain she has suffered to save her horrid Potions Professor just to fulfill my wish to have her at my side,” Severus ran a hand through his hair roughly. “She has already done me a service by removing the curses I have lived with, I will not take more from her, not on the whims of an old man.”

“Severus, you are not old. Especially not with how you look now. I’m sure even Lucius would admit that. But what other suffering are you keeping from her? I’m sure Potter will tell her about her parents. The bond alone is not so great an inconvenience to call it suffering,” Narcissa stood and met his gaze. 

“You don't know what a bond like this feels like. It may not be the pain we have become so acquainted with thanks to the Dark Lord but it is still suffering. And that is not the end of it for the girl. As great and as selfless as Miss Granger is, in equal measure, the Headmaster is great and ruthless,” Severus’s voice was low and tinged with loathing. 

“He did something to her?” Narcissa paled.

“No, he suggested she do something. But a suggestion from Albus Dumbledore isn’t a choice considering the ease at which he can exert his will upon another person,” Severus shook his head, “Leave it be, Narcissa. When she realizes the depth at which she has been manipulated and what her choices have added to this war, good or bad, the guilt will be enough to bear on its own. Hermione Granger is a clever witch. But no amount of smarts can protect you from your own self-hatred. I would know. So we will leave her be, and the bond will remain my burden to bear.”

He had been confident that he would bear the bond. But even he could not deny how painful it could get, especially at night when he knew they were together and the bond would keep him up. It would nag at him, push him to find her and claim her. To mark the young woman as his and protect her from her friend. It had pervaded his dreams with imaginings of sweeping into her dormitory, taking her into his arms and back into his own bed. 

That would be the way of it tonight, he suspected. The bond had ached horribly for a moment and then quieted to something like a low buzz that soon became a hum. That hum cocooned him into a fitful sleep and a heated dream. 

—--------------

Hermione stood in a field, basking in the dancing shade of the willow. Arms wrapped around her middle and she felt a warm body come up behind her. She sank into the embrace, closing her eyes to catch a familiar scent. The scent of spices and santal immediately comforted her. 

She looked at the arms around her waist and ran her fingers across the strong forearms. Familiar hands held her close to the man behind her. Hermione considered speaking but decided not to. It was too peaceful of a moment to break. She looked out across the field and marveled at the beautiful day and the bright sun. 

The feel of warm soft lips against the side of her neck jolted her from her appreciation of the world around them. Hermione gasped at the sensation, instinctively tilting her head so that he could have better access. The logical part of her told her to pull away, that this was too public a place. But that warm fiery heat that had become so familiar in the back of her being was flaring and guiding her. Urging her to sink into the embrace and succumb to the sensual ministrations of the man that held her close.

The Gryffindor relaxed, smiling at the brief low chuckle that precluded the feel of his tongue gliding across the sensitive skin beneath her ear. The gasp she released quickly turned into a moan as he pulled her even more firmly against him. Her face grew hot as she felt his hardness against the small of her back. One of his large pale hands splayed across her belly while the other moved upward to cup her breast. 

Hermione arched into the touch, heat traveling to her core. Behind her he ground into the curve of her bum as his arousal became even more prominent. All logical thought was replaced with something primal and instinctual as he guided her to turn to the trunk of the tree. His hands took her wrists and braced her palms flat on the trunk before gliding down her arms to her shoulders and then her waist. His touch left a trail of liquid fire beneath her skin. 

Hermione realized only then that she was in a thin sundress that did little to separate her from the grinding motion of his hips against her behind. A rough and deep voice whispered near her ear, “Tell me to stop, Hermione.”

She pushed her hips back making him groan in response. Her voice surprised her as she gasped out, “Don’t stop, please.”

The low growl from her lover should have frightened her but that warm fiery heat mixed with something smooth and liquid enveloped her, cradling her into submission. His deft hands glided down her thighs and pulled the hem of the dress up to her waist. A part of her felt embarrassment at the exposure as a cool breeze danced across her lower half. But the soft caresses and kisses shooed away any anxiety. He kept one hand firmly on her waist as the other glided up between her shoulder blades and pushed gently, “Bend over.” 

The gravelly command was followed by the sound of clothes rustling. Hermione gripped the tree, her eyes shut tight at the slow glide of his tip followed by a firm, delicious stretch between her legs. His breath came out in barely controlled huffs, which only spurred her to thrust backward, pulling a moan from both of them. Taking her lead, he began slow, deep thrusts. Their arousal was so apparent that she could hear their wet joining over the rustle of the leaves overhead. 

The feel of his hand slipping forward to tease her clit while he pressed his back close against hers made her throw her head back with ecstasy. His hips surged with powerful thrusts, guiding her into a more upright position. She opened her eyes and found that he had entwined one of his hands against her own on the trunk of the tree. The sight of their hands together, grasping felt right, like it was fate. The act tugged on her heart and there was a surge of emotions in her chest. 

Hermione reached her free hand back to hold his neck, burying her hand in long thick hair. She was whispering pleas she didn’t know what for. The pleasure was overwhelming and all consuming. She cried out, “Don’t stop!”

At her words the familiar voice chuckled in her ear, “Take it, Hermione.”

He bit down softly on the juncture between her neck and shoulder while driving into her deeply. His deft fingers rolled her clit and sent her to the precipice. Hermione needed one more thing, just one thing and she would finish. She wanted him to kiss her, muffle her screams as he brought her to orgasm on his cock. 

When Hermione turned her head and met the eyes of Severus Snape, moments before he captured her lips in a searing kiss, it was too late. She screamed into his lips as her walls spasmed with each of his thrusts. Her knees buckled with the force of his final movements. The feel of his seed filling her was scorching. When her mind caught up with her, she pushed the man away and screamed. 

—---------

Hermione woke up with a scream that made Harry jump up and scramble for his wand. With a flick of his wand, the sconces in her bedroom lit and he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Seeing that they were safe, Harry climbed back into her bed and pulled her into his arms. 

“It was just a bad dream,” He shushed her before touching his hand to her cheek, “You look flushed? Are you feeling okay?”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she just nodded before burying herself back into the sheets with her back turned to him. Harry stared at her for a moment. Upon casting a tempus charm, he learned it was still only 4 in the morning. Harry kissed Hermione’s clothed shoulder then settled back to sleep.  

Chapter Text

Hermione did not sleep the rest of the night and left her bed early in the morning to shower. She felt like she needed to wash away more than just the dream, but her ever analytical mind would not let it go without further thought. As she stood under the warm spray her musings ran wild.

Professor Snape? Why in the world did I have a dream like…that…with the Professor? And while I was sleeping next to Harry. Hermione roughly washed her hair, soaking the curls and dousing them with shampoo and then conditioner. As she carefully coiled her curls, she recalled the feelings and responses the dream had brought forth. But why did it feel so good? I’ve had…fun...dreams before but nothing that actually elicited a palpable reaction. She grimaced as she remembered how wet her underwear had been in those moments after she startled awake. Her nerve endings were ringing with the pleasure of an orgasm, so sensitive that she was relieved Harry had simply gone back to sleep. What is going on? What does Snape have to do with any of this? 

When she returned to her room she found a note from Harry telling her that he was stopping at the dorms to shower and change and would meet her in the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione sighed with relief, not sure how she would be able to look at him without blushing in shame. Harry had been so attentive since her stay in the Hospital Wing and Hermione found herself relishing the attention. They had not kissed since the last time, when she had kicked him out. But Harry hadn’t complained, which only made her feel worse about the dream she had. 

As she dressed she pondered everything. Her heart still ached at any vague notion that reminded her of her parents but with so much more to take in, and catching up mentally with her classes, she was able to process the grief rather quickly. At least she thought she did, maybe her mind subconsciously knew she had already done her grieving once before. The warm tether on her pinky that felt like Harry’s magic had seemed to grow more intense with how much time they spent together. Hermione decided that she needed to go to the library some time that day, there was research to be done. Maybe she would find something to explain away the tugs of magic she was feeling.

As she left her rooms she ran into Ginny and some other 6th years. 

“Hermione!” Ginny greeted her happily and told her friends to go on without her. The younger girl hooked her arm onto Hermione’s, “Let’s have a girl’s day today! I can even invite Luna, Lavender, and the twins and we can bunk up in your rooms and paint each other’s nails. It’s Saturday and you need a night to see what trash is in Witch Weekly this time instead of the boys making you do their homework. I’ve missed you. I know you and Harry are a thing now, I’m happy for you, but you’re my friend too and you need to split your time with us too.” 

Hermione laughed and nodded, patting the girl’s hand, “I’d love that, Gin. The whole Harry thing is rather confusing if I’m honest, and I would love to talk it out with someone. It’s not as if I can talk to Ron or Draco about it.” 

“Ooooh ‘Draco’ now is it? Even memory loss couldn’t prevent you from taking pity on the ferret?” Ginny said teasingly.

“Trust me, it was odd for me too. But from what Ron and Harry have said, we had all mostly put our differences aside, barring quidditch and the boys snarking at each other,” At that moment they made it to the Great Hall. She scanned the Slytherin table and spotted the blond who was looking over at them. The two girls waved a greeting before taking their seats at the Gryffindor table. 

“Yea, he’s not so bad now that he turned traitor. Takes after his Uncle instead of his Dad, thankfully,” Ginny piled some eggs onto her plate as Hermione prepared some oatmeal and fruits. 

Harry had told Hermione that Ginny didn’t know about Lucius’ change of allegiance or his newfound spy role, the less people who knew the better. It still baffled her how much had changed. Maybe a talk with Ginny was long overdue. Hermione glanced at her friend and continued their talk of the Slytherins, “He’s smart and his mother was very helpful that day in the hospital wing. By the way, I still have no idea why I was sent there. Harry says it’s all complicated and that Dumbledore told him to ease me into everything.”

Ginny shrugged her shoulders, “Ron just said you collapsed and they brought you there. Dumbledore has forbidden anyone to talk about the details since it’s all ‘Official Order Business’. I don’t mind not knowing. I’m just happy you’re okay. Ron told me Mrs. Malfoy performed Healer’s Bain to save you, so it must have been serious.”

“Yea, I owe her a life debt,” Hermione sighed, looking around the room. Her eyes scanned the head table and stopped on the Potions Master. He looked exhausted but his gaze was directed right at her. His dark eyes were intense while his face remained a mask of unbothered flatness. This contrasted how hard she fought to keep a straight face. Scenes from her dream the night before flashed before her eyes, making her look away, attempting to hide her blush. 

“You too?” Ginny whispered conspiratorially as she raised her brow. 

“What?”

“He’s handsome now. It’s kind of weird. A lot of the younger years have crushes on him since they haven’t had to deal with his shitty attitude as long as we have,” Ginny gestured toward the staff table. “I mean he has an air about him, but I don’t think I can get over how he made me cry three times my first year while I was being possessed by He-Who-Should-Be-Dead. We have all come to the consensus that he could use his voice to make up for the nose.” 

Hermione gaped at the redhead, “You’ve all been talking about him like that?

“Oh yea! You should have seen it the first day, well you kind of did but you don’t remember.” Ginny said thoughtfully. “He’s not got a Mark either but I’m sure Harry told you that already. I think it’s also become obvious that Snape is so much younger than the rest of the staff that the novelty has gotten to everyone. The whole teacher/student thing. I mean look over there.”

Professor Snape had stood up from the table with the Headmaster and the two were making their way down the middle of the room when three 5th years from Gryffindor stopped to talk to the Potion’s Master. There was a flash of panic in the man’s eyes as the girl’s closed in on him while Dumbledore laughed and whispered something to his employee before abandoning the man. One of the girls placed a hand on the dark man’s arm. For some reason a strong flare of jealousy came over Hermione at the sight of the contact, but it disappeared with the satisfaction of seeing the Professor pull away abruptly, take house points and suggest the girl’s not interrupt his Saturday morning to ask such stupid questions. 

As he passed, Hermione caught his eye again, making heat pool in her center as her dream came back to the forefront of her mind. Arousal curled in her core and her skin remembered the feel of his fingertips on her skin. Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of her physical response. The Professor stumbled as he passed but recovered quickly and flew out of the Great Hall like a man on fire. The girls he had just berated were giggling stupidly amongst themselves and Hermione had to stop herself from scowling at them and their ridiculous behavior. 

Before she could analyze her reactions, Harry took the seat beside her and swiftly kissed her cheek and continued in conversation with Ron who sat across from them next to Dean. No one batted an eye as Hermione flushed at the public display of affection. 

“You two coming to the pitch with us? We got a pick-up Quidditch match with Malfoy and the Ravenclaws,” Ron inquired as he started in on a bit of toast. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full you idiot,” Ginny scolded her brother who promptly choked a little on the dry piece of toast. “And no, we are having a girl’s day in the Head Girl dorms and no Harry you cannot come.” 

“No arguments. I need some time away from all this testosterone. Between you and Ron and Draco, sometimes a woman needs some intelligent conversation,” Hermione warned. Harry, who had been about to protest, shut his mouth. The overprotectiveness was getting a bit annoying at this point, especially if Harry didn’t want to leave her with the girls in her rooms. 

Properly admonished, Harry took her hand, “Alright, alright fine. Have fun today. I was just worried since you had that nightmare last night.” 

“You had a nightmare?” Ginny looked intrigued. 

“It was n-nothing, Harry. I’ve already forgotten about it,” She could only thank Merlin that the boy was oblivious to her obvious lie. Ginny on the other hand raised a brow at her and Hermione knew it would end up being a topic of conversation later on. 

“Mister Potter, Miss Granger,” Everyone jumped at the sudden appearance of their head of house. 

“Hello Professor.”

“Good morning, Professor.”

“While I trust that the two of you are not foolish enough to be breaking certain school rules regarding student conduct, it has come to my attention that you, Mister Potter, have not been sleeping in your dorm all week. Is that right?” The stern look of McGonagall told them it was a rhetorical question. 

Harry finally had the wherewithal to look abashed as a flush colored his face. 

“While you both have important roles outside of your positions as students, there are rules to be followed. I expect you to be sleeping in the boys’ dorm for the rest of the year, Potter. Lest I give you detention for besmirching our Head Girl,” The Scottish matron smirked as the two of them nodded, not looking anyone in the eye. “Now that that is settled, what is it I hear about an inter house pick up quidditch match?”

With that, the conversation delved deep into Quidditch with the Professor encouraging her Gryffindors to ‘show them what for’ even in an unofficial match. Soon enough, Ginny had recruited the girls and they all headed back to her rooms. Once everyone was in comfy jogging pants and sweaters, and they were all surrounded by snacks, nail polish, and skincare, the true gossip began. 

“Soooo, ‘Mione, what’s going on with you and Harry? I heard what McGonagall said. He’s been sleeping here?” Lavender had a lascivious look on her face as she braided Parvati’s hair. 

Hermione blushed crimson, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Since I lost the 6 months, I don’t have much context and Harry hasn’t been entirely forthcoming. He thinks too much information at once might set me off and apparently a lot has happened in those 6 months. As far as I know, I like Harry and he seems to like me.” 

“You like each other. I think even the Professors had bets going on whether you would end up with Ron or Harry,” Padma chimed in as she dug into a bag of chips. 

Lavender looked put out at the idea of her with Ron making Hermione roll her eyes and Ginny chuckle to herself. 

“Lavender is a much better match for Ron than I ever was. We talked about it a bit last year, after everything, and we both want different things. No offense, Ginny, but I’ve always had a little torch for Harry that I considered to be deep friendship. I honestly wanted the two of you to work out,” Hermione replied, keeping still as Ginny painted lacquer on her nails in a sage green. 

“None taken, Hermione. I don’t think Harry even realized how much you meant to him until this year,” Ginny smiled. 

“I always thought Hermione would end up with someone older, a scholar,” Luna said dreamily, “Someone who would challenge you, ya know.”

“So what do you think, Hermione?” Lavender ignored Luna’s comment, “Are you going to make it official?”

“As much as you say you like Harry, ‘Mione, we shouldn’t forget about the other man on your mind,” Ginny wiggled her eyes suggestively. 

“Who?” Parvati had taken over braiding Lavender’s hair, looking eager for more gossip. 

“Who do you think? Luna did say she thought Hermione would like someone older and wiser,” Ginny laughed as Hermione told her softly to shut up.

Padma gasped and looked at her sister, who began giggling. Lavender took a moment and realized the same thing: “Oh, so you want a certain Head of House to Slyther-in?”

Hermione couldn’t help but to laugh along with the girls. When she finally caught her breath, she replied, “Honestly, I was just surprised. He looks very different.” 

“You mean he looks like a Bronte-esque romantic hero?” Lavender sighed, “His hair, his broad shoulders, and his voice!” 

Hermione fought the jealousy that rolled around in her head, urged on by that pull of magic in the back of her being. Her voice came out haughtily, “I wasn’t aware you read Bronte, Lav.”

“I am a lover of all things romance; magical and muggle,” The blonde stuck her tongue out playfully. 

“So you’re dreaming of Heathcliff searching desperately for you on the moors?” Hermione supposed. Ginny looked thoughtful and interrupted.

“Wait! Speaking about dreaming. Harry mentioned that you had a nightmare last night,” the twins twittered at the image of Harry with her so late in the night. Ginny ignored them, “But the blush on your face told me that it was more of a fantasy than a nightmare. So spill!”  

The eager looks on the girls' faces, and the subject matter made Hermione feel like a normal teenage girl. She replied indulgently, “Fine, I had a wet dream!”

Then came all the questions and Hermione answered all of them truthfully except for who her partner was. This led to a boisterous conversation about the other dreams the girls had and even some real life examples. The day seemed to fly by with the carefree conversation and companionship, something Hermione felt so happy about she had shed a tear. It was like a part of herself was being repaired but she wasn’t sure why. 

Night eventually rolled in, and after sharing an illicit bottle of fire whiskey, the girl’s retired except for Ginny who now crawled into bed with Hermione. The ginger raised a brow, “You’ve washed these sheets, right? I don’t want to think about what you and Harry have gotten up to here.”

Hermione smacked her with a pillow, and let out a tired sigh before she replied, “We haven’t gotten up to anything except a few kisses. And it seems I’ve scared him away from that for the time being.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Ginny propped her head up with her hand while facing Hermione, “He seemed fine this morning.”

“I don’t know, Ginny. I love Harry, I always have. He’s one of the most important people in my life. I like spending time with him, and being affectionate, and, yes, kissing. But whenever we start…getting more passionate, it’s like my chest zaps me. I wouldn’t say it hurts really, but it’s shocking and I have no idea what it means. But when I feel his magic, it’s so familiar and it wraps around my hand like it wants to melt into me. God it’s so confusing!” Hermione covered her face with her arm, missing the odd look on Ginny’s face. 

“You’ve been through a lot, Hermione. The memory loss and whatever put you in the Hospital Wing. Like you said, you’re missing some context. Give it time.” Ginny reached over and squeezed her shoulder. 

“I just want to remember everything already.”

“Do you still keep your journals?”

“Journals? Journals! Ginny, you’re a genius! How could I have forgotten the journals!” Hermione moved to stand but wobbled and fell back into bed. She had kept journals and diaries for school work, ideas, and personal ramblings ever since she started at Hogwarts. There were probably some clues in there and she was eager to find out but Ginny pulled her back into bed. 

“Nope, you’re drunk and so am I. Tomorrow we can see what your journals say. Deal?” Ginny held her down with a leg thrown over Hermione’s and clung to her torso. 

Hermione giggled softly, feeling relief upon the discovery that her past 6 months might fully be revealed to her, “Deal.” 

—------------

Severus had truly considered not going to the Great Hall for breakfast but he had skipped two meals yesterday and Albus had requested his presence. He hoped, against hope, that Hermione would decide to sleep in for lunch. The shame took him again as he recalled the dream he had had that night. It had felt so real that when he had startled awake he found his pajama bottoms wet with his release. Severus leaned against his mantle feeling foolish as he recalled his early morning. He hadn’t had such difficulty controlling his urges since he was a student at this very school. Taking a deep breath, the Potion’s Master stood up straight and steeled himself for the task ahead. 

It took everything not to stare at her the entire time. He had caught her eye for a long moment when she had first arrived in the Hall and it had not been enough to satiate his growing desire for her. The bond was brushing up against his mind, urging him to remember the dream. He berated himself and thrust his mental shields up to fortify his resolve. There was some relief as all the feelings surrounding the young woman were now muted. Severus scanned the Great Hall and didn’t see Potter anywhere, his shoulders relaxed. He wouldn’t have to deal with any jealousy for now. He feared that in his compromised state he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from hexing the boy or giving him a gratuitous detention for touching his bonded. Suddenly, he was reminded of what Draco said about Potter not sleeping in his dorm. 

The Headmaster interrupted his spiraling thoughts and urged Severus to join him in his office. Seeing the means of his escape, he stood and walked with the Headmaster, only to be immediately accosted by a few other students. 

The most disconcerting thing out of everything that had happened since the beginning of term, was the unprecedented reaction of the female population of the school. Severus knew he looked younger, stronger, but he was still ugly. There had been a few errant and ill-conceived school girl infatuations over the years that were easily quelled with a biting comment or a harsh critique. But he had allowed his sharp tongue to blunt following the success of Hermione’s ritual, leading him to be not-quite-nice but a far cry from the complete bastard they were used to. 

He was now inundated with students wanting to talk to him during his office hours or stopping him in the hallways and the Great Hall. Dumbledore ignored his panicked looks and chuckled on his way out as the three Gryffindors came far too close to him. The sharp pain that shot through him when one of them dared to lay a hand on him made his anger flare up, and the bastard of old surfaced quickly, dispensing harsh remarks and taking points. 

As he pushed past them he didn’t expect to see Hermione watching him intently. So for the first time in his years of teaching, he stumbled on his robes. His natural agility allowed him to find his footing quickly, but he knew she saw it. Like a school boy embarrassed by a prank in front of his crush, Severus felt his face flushing and his heart racing. Without a look back to see her reaction, he all but ran out of the Great Hall. 

When he finally made it to the Headmaster’s office he slumped into a chair across from the man who twinkled insufferably at him. He snarled in frustration, “You could have told them I was meant to be in a meeting with you!”

“Now, Severus, I thought you would enjoy the attention. It’s a very different experience to be favored rather than reviled,” Dumbledore quipped as he took a candy from the dish at the corner of his desk. 

“They are children!” The Potions Master glared at the older man who only looked more amused, “All that sugar is making you even more senile than I thought.” 

“You seem rather wound up this morning, Severus. Did something happen?” 

“Besides the odyssey I’ve lived through these few months alone? No, business as usual. Has Lucius conferred any more information about the upcoming attack?” Severus urged the conversation in a more productive direction. 

As they went over information from the various informants the Headmaster had, some even a mystery to the former spy, he felt that there was something he was missing. Something that the Headmaster was keeping close to his chest that could turn the tides of the war. It wasn’t until they took a break from planning the next Order meeting that he recognized one of the books on the pile next to the old wizard’s desk. It was a book on bonds, one that he had only got a copy of because of the Malfoys. Why is he looking into bonds? He’s reminded me again and again that he can’t break the bond with Hermione. Who else has a bond? OR is he planning to create a bond?

Severus couldn’t ponder it further as Dumbledore called for his attention. He filed it away for further investigation. The pit it had created in his stomach was also filed away to deal with later. 

—----------

“Oy, Potter!” Draco called out as he caught up with the group of boys heading to the quidditch pitch. “Let’s walk and talk.”

The Gryffindor stopped and shoo-ed the other 7th years to continue walking ahead. Harry turned to Draco with a raised brow, “What did I do to get a one-on-one conference with the ferret?” 

“Best you can do? Come on, Scarhead, try a little harder. I’m rather fond of ferrets now,” Draco smirked at the other dark haired boy. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Potter asked as he matched his stride with him. 

“You need to start letting Hermione take tea with me and my Uncle again. I know you’re the one keeping her away,” Draco said seriously, not looking at his face. 

“She doesn’t want to,” Harry replied, though he looked away, caught.

“That’s rubbish! You probably haven’t given her a choice. She needs to remember, and they say you gotta go back to a routine to remember lost memories. Teas with me and Snape are part of her routine,” He explained, then gripped Potter’s arm, “Whether she knows about the bond or not, it is still there. Snape won’t say it but I know the bond is starting to become more than uncomfortable. All he needs is to be near Hermione, to talk to her and the bond won’t hurt him.”

“I’ll go with her to see Snape then,” Potter countered.

“Oh yeah, the bond would love that, the competition intruding upon their scant interactions. Don’t be daft. You should do some research on bonds, Potter. I’m a bit disappointed you haven’t already since you’re so set on trying to force Hermione away from her bonded. It may not bother her now, but eventually it will start to push her too,” Draco looked at the other boy hard. “If you want the best for Hermione, then she needs to spend time with Snape too. Until we can figure out a way to break the bond, the bond will still exist and affect their lives.”

“She hasn’t even asked me about him. Maybe she doesn’t feel it?” Potter furrowed his brow, trying to justify his actions. “I’m not going to force her to meet with Snape until she wants to herself.”

Draco rubbed a rough hand down his face, “Look, I know you love her, anyone can see that. But if you don’t get her near Snape soon, the bond will retaliate and he will take the brunt of it.”

“Nothing less than he deserves,” The Boy-Who-Lived said callously before turning his back and walking.

“You know, I wasn’t going to bring it up. I figured it probably existed for some important reason in this war against evil because everything does with you. But we know you have a bond with Hermione,” Draco said, “I can see why you want to make sure your bond takes precedence, but the rules are different when we don’t know what Hermione did with her ritual with Snape.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have a bond with Hermione,” the look on Harry’s face told Draco he was telling the truth. 

Chapter Text

Severus sat studiously at his desk, grading term finals. The winter holiday would start the day after next and he was determined not to have any grading to do during it. Although he wasn’t sure if he would be leaving Hogwarts at all during the holiday. Spinner’s End was gone, and he wasn’t interested in staying in Grimmauld Place with the Order. He couldn’t travel like he would sometimes do, as there was no doubt that the Dark Lord had his followers watching for such an escape. The only bright side seemed to be that he wouldn’t have to go to the Dark Lord’s horrific revels. 

There was also the problem of the bond and how it was becoming ever harder to ignore. He was plagued with headaches and a soreness in his chest that were only slightly mitigated when he saw her in the Great Hall or the classroom. But if he didn’t have some extended interaction with her soon, he feared what more the bond would put him through. The dreams were never as detailed as that first one, but they were nonetheless about the girl and filled with amorous scenes and feelings that seemed to stick long after he had left his bed. 

If he couldn’t leave the castle then it was likely that Hermione wouldn’t be able to either. With her parents gone and the unpredictability of the bond it would behoove her to stay close. The Potter boy would try to stay unless Black convinced him to visit. Would I even approach Hermione if we were the only two in the castle?

The first day of the holiday would begin with a meeting of the Order, as many of them as could safely arrive at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was still keeping something key to the war close to his chest and it was irking him to no end. He suspected that Potter knew considering the one-on-one meetings the Headmaster still held with the boy. The only opening he had to that information would have been Hermione, if the boy was smart enough to share it with her. But it seemed that Hermione was the one who kept the most secrets. 

Draco had told him that Potter had no clue about the bond between him and Hermione. So it was another instance of the smart witch forcing someone into a bond. But what for? In the Hospital Wing, he recalled Potter saying he had refused to do the ritual with his friend. If so, which bond was this and when did she perform it? 

The questions were only increasing and there had been no headway in Hermione remembering anything on her own. A part of him hoped that the bond would be a trigger for her, but it almost seemed as if she couldn’t feel it, based on how she didn’t seek him out. Draco had informed him about Potter’s reticence to allow them to see each other but that she had not asked after him either. The jealousy that simmered beneath the surface of his facade reared its ugly head. 

Severus had no further time to contemplate his near future as a house elf appeared, handed him a missive, then promptly returned from whence it came. He recognized the gray paper, although it held no identifiers as it would have in the past when they were students. Lucius. 

Knowing that the walls of the castle talked, he left his cluttered desk and moved into his quarters, ripping the missive open. 

Prince,

The CurseMaker and The Executioner are dead. They told him. He knows you’ve adopted another doe and that she removed your mark. She must not leave your side. If he cannot have you, he will use her. We both know that you are not the only enemy he has that favors her. 

White Light

His blood ran cold as he read and re-read the letter. The Dark Lord knew he had a connection to Hermione. In a panic he searched his mind for the memories of the torture, closing himself off from the emotions so he could find what he was looking for. Then he saw it, Macnair had heard his drunken musings before they attacked him. He had said her first name. Severus had hoped that her identity would be kept safe from the Dark Lord. She was in enough danger due to her close relationship with Potter, but now, thanks to him, the Dark Lord knew she was the one who removed the mark. 

The protective rage that came over him was suddenly overwhelmed with a sharp increase in intensity of the ache in his chest. The information from Lucius had forced his own mental barriers down long enough for his control to waver. The need, the insistent push of the bond that he had been ignoring for far too long was retaliating with a vengeance.

The feeling of failing her caused the bond to react negatively. It had a foothold and was spilling into his being. The fiery heat that he had come to associate with the bond and Hermione was blistering. Gone was the comforting warmth, replaced by a dark inferno that was showing him no mercy.  Severus stumbled to his office door, but as he swung it open he fell to his knees, a full body spasm taking his breath away. As if his luck couldn’t get any worse, his wand had slipped from his hand when he fell. It was now several feet away just out of the Potions Master’s reach as he slumped to the ground, clutching his chest. 

—-----------------------

Malfoy pulled open the door and looked Harry up and down before gesturing for him to come inside. He nodded at the Slytherin and walked into the guest quarters that the boy’s mother was occupying during her asylum at Hogwarts.

“Mum, Scarhead is here,” the blond called out to the spacious rooms. 

“Draco, must you call everyone by such horrid nicknames?” Mrs. Malfoy glided into the living room, chastising her son. “Hello, Mister Potter.”

“You can just call me Harry, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry replied with a timid smile as she gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa. The matriarch took an armchair while his classmate sat himself on the arm of the same chair. A few minutes later a tea service was spread out across the table in front of them. 

“Please have some tea, Harry. We have a few things to talk about, it would seem.” Her voice was soft but Harry could tell that she could have the same steel in it that her husband once had. 

“Yes. Malfoy, um, Draco says that I have a bond with Hermione. Is that true?” Harry asked, feeling odd by not being completely put off with saying the Slytherin’s first name.

Narcissa glanced at her son then nodded, “I can see magical connections. When I was assisting with Miss Granger it was quite apparent that she had a bond with Severus. But I also felt and glimpsed a faint bond with you. It nearly slipped past me. There were several concealment charms on it. Powerful ones. May I see your hands Harry?”

Obliging, Harry placed his hands in hers, hoping that it would give her more information before he bombarded her with questions. The news of his bond with Hermione had given Harry a terrible feeling in the bottom of his stomach. With Hermione spending the day with the other girls, he hadn’t had the chance to see her, and with her extra classes, she still had a few finals to take today. Thus, The-Boy-Who-Lived had spent the night overthinking, coming up with the worst scenarios, and also feeling a little betrayed that Hermione had kept so much from him.

He observed as the older woman in front of him turned his hand, then the other back and forth. Soon her eyes were scanning him from head to toe. Harry would be lying if he said that having her intense icy eyes examining him didn’t unnerve him quite a bit. Narcissa Malfoy was beautiful in an austere way that he suspected his Aunt Petunia had tried to emulate her entire life. She was cold beauty at its finest and having met her husband and recognized his handsome, if slightly flamboyant style, Harry could see where Draco took after both of his parents. 

The feel of her soft fingers on his cheek pulled his focus. She looked at every part of his face and saw a flash of something that she immediately concealed, but her lips turned down in a frown regardless. 

“You have no memory or knowledge of a bond with Miss Granger?” She asked, sitting back and relinquishing him from her touch. 

“Hermione had mentioned the one we’ve all talked about, with Snape, but I refused to do that one and she never mentioned anything else after that,” Harry racked his brain for any clues. 

Draco tilted his head, “When did you start fancying Hermione? Not that it couldn’t happen, but you two have been friends for ages, but you’ve never seemed to see her as a woman until this year.”

Harry gulped, “The end of last year was when I realized how important she was to me. It was confusing and one of the reasons why Ginny and I ended up not working out. You don’t think it was brought on by whatever this bond is? Do you?”

Mrs. Malfoy looked at him thoughtfully, “It didn’t seem much older than six months. This also doesn’t feel like an amorous bond. It feels utilitarian. The odd thing is I can’t see it on you. I can feel it. I know it’s there but it’s like I can see snatches of it but it’s being hidden. I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

“What does that mean?” He wondered what more Hermione could have done. 

“Whoever placed the bond, whether it was Hermione or someone else, is concealing it with dark magic. And you, Harry, have been marked by dark magic since you got that scar,” Narcissa said, her eyes glancing to his forehead. “Where dark magic already resides, other dark magic will have an easier foothold. I don’t think it is a bond meant to cause you any physical harm, or it would have already done so, those types tend to be for people who are less patient and are not long lived bonds. The bond itself may not be dark but what is keeping it concealed is.”

The confirmation that Voldemort had left him marked not only with the scar, but his magic was not unexpected. He and Hermione had suspected for a long time that it was the cause of his pain and nightmares. Not to mention the obvious worry about horcruxes and the possibility of him being one. His voice was laced with worry as he asked, “So someone else may have bonded us together?” 

“Without Hermione having her memories back to tell us more, it is something to consider. You’ve had many enemies, Harry. It is the unfortunate truth of your life that you will be hunted until you or your hunters are dead. This may be a tactic to trap you, and in a way it has succeeded,” Her words held a sureness that made Harry grimace. Narcissa settled into the armchair, thinking deeply. 

Harry was also quiet as he pondered who would have done such a thing and what it would mean for him and Hermione. 

“Mum, tell him to stop being pig headed and let Hermione see Uncle,” Draco finally said, smirking at him despite sounding a bit petulant.

“What do you mean?” Narcissa looked worried, “Severus said he was giving the girl detention so that she would be in his proximity.”

“Hermione hasn’t had detention since before Snape was attacked,” Harry looked away from the older Malfoy who was glowering.

“So when have they seen each other?” She was standing and rushing to pull on her elegant outer robes. 

“Just in class and sometimes in the Great Hall, but he doesn’t even call on her in class anymore. He avoids whatever table she sits at too,” Draco answered his mother as he stood to follow her. 

“Merlin, save me from the stubbornness of grown men!” The woman bit out, “Have either of you seen Severus today?” 

“No, I was meant to have tea with him this afternoon. Mum, what’s wrong?” Draco grabbed his mum’s arm as she pulled open the door.

“And Hermione. Where is she?” Narcissa looked up and down the corridor, fingering her wand. 

“She’s in class. Ancient Runes,” Harry followed after the two blonds. “Where are you going?”

“I am going to find Severus and you two are going to bring Hermione to the dungeons. It’s been over a week since they have been within 2 feet of each other. I doubt he has even brushed his arm against her in passing. The mule that he is,” The frustration was palpable not just in her voice but the tenseness of her shoulders as she walked. Harry followed after the irate woman, surprised at her quick and tireless stride. She whipped her head to look back at the two of them. Stopping short she glared at the boys and explained, “Don’t you remember? The bond is lopsided. Severus needs to be around her or the bond will harm him like a neglected and starving animal. His tolerance for pain and skill in occlumency have allowed him to hold out for this long but I’ve never seen a deeply bonded pair go longer than three days without at least touching hands, and that’s when it’s a known and researched ritual bond. Go find Hermione before the bond turns on her too!”

Harry and Draco looked at each other, realizing now how serious it was. Twin chills seemed to go up both their spines as the danger became apparent. They turned in unison, running up flights of stairs to find Hermione. 

—-----------------

Hermione thanked whatever god had given her an eidetic memory because without it she feared she would be completely lost during her end of term Ancient Runes exam. The migraine and soreness that had pervaded her head all week was reaching a crescendo that muted her thoughts and made her regret sitting in her usual sunny seat. It was neither a throbbing pain or a pulsing agitation, but it was growing to a sickening intensity. The sun seemed to glare off nothing in the corner of her eye, obstructing her vision with a veil of white.

She willed her shaking hands to keep her rigid and neat handwriting, even as it slanted. Once again she spoke a small prayer as she flipped the exam closed and stared at the cover. Normally she would have gone over all her answers at least twice before turning it in, but the need to leave the sunny seat was too great. Hastily, she gathered her school bag and walked up to the front of the class, slamming the booklet onto Professor Babbling's desk without a word and stumbled out of the room. She made it only a few feet before she fell to her knees, wincing at the feel of her bare legs slamming into the stone floor. 

Am I dying? W-where’s Harry? I-I need to see…Severus.

The thought of her professor made her brows furrow, although the sentiment felt right. She wanted to see him just as badly as she wanted to see Harry. They would help her, they would protect her. She pressed her palms to the cold stone and hissed at the contact. The cold contrast stinging her overheated body. The arms she relied on to carry heavy tomes were now giving way under the weight of her torso. For a split second, the Gryffindor thought that she might fall face first into the unforgiving ground when a pair of heads and hands appeared near her. She felt some relief as they lifted her with her arms around their shoulders. To her left her body seemed to call out to the person, making her lean heavily into him. When her eyes focused, she found the concerned eyes of Harry looking down at her. 

“She won’t make it down the stairs like that. Carry her on your back, I’ll grab her things. We have to hurry!” Draco said from somewhere behind her. 

The feel of Harry’s cold hand on her cheek made her twitch, “Hermione, love, I’m going to pick you up. We need to take you where you will get better.”

There was an odd warring feeling in her body. A part of her wanted to nestle into his arms, but a larger part, an angrier part wanted to shove him away and go down the stairs. Down, down, deep where she would be safe. Where he would keep her safe. Without thinking, she pushed against Harry’s shoulders, falling backward only to be caught by another pair of strong arms. She turned to look at Draco. 

“Draco…what…I need to go downstairs. I have to…” She mumbled as Draco maneuvered her so that Harry could crouch in front of her and carry her on his back. She felt a sticking charm settle over her, plastering her against Harry’s back as he took off down a flight of stairs, so fast it made her head spin. 

The ache continued even as her arm felt lighter with Harry near her. It wasn’t their bond causing her pain then. The pain seemed to surge forward twofold now that she was flush against his back. It finally occurred to her that they were not heading for the Hospital Wing as they skipped the floor it was on and kept moving. The lower they got, the frequency of the surges of pain lessened. By the time they were in the cold dungeons, Harry was sweating and hot to touch, while she was shivering. Was I poisoned? Why is he taking me to Professor Snape’s office? 

Draco ran ahead and with a flick of his wrist the door swung open. Hermione was wide-eyed and impressed by his powerful display before becoming distracted with the sudden loosening of the tension in her chest and back. It felt like she had taken a large refreshing breath after holding it for too long. The pain ebbed away even more. 

“Mum?!” Draco called out into the open door that led to Professor Snape’s quarters. 

“In the bedroom, Draco! Do you have her?” Came the unmistakable and commanding voice of the Malfoy matriarch. 

“Harry, let me down. What’s going on?” Hermione wriggled against his back but the sticking charm held fast. She was coming more and more to her senses as he took each step into the Professor’s private space. Harry didn’t answer her, just followed after Draco. 

She peered over Harry’s shoulder and gasped when Draco opened the door to find Mrs. Malfoy trying hard to hold down a writhing Severus Snape. Draco immediately took to the other side of the bed to help his mother. Harry finally set her down, undoing the sticking charm, but keeping a hold on her arm as she found her balance. 

When she was firmly on the ground, Hermione realized that her pain and discomfort were nearly nonexistent. She looked at Harry to ask him what was going on but his jaw was clenched and his eyes were on the professor. Taking in the scene, she noticed the glazed and far away look in the dark man’s eyes. His clothes were damp with sweat and his hair a mess around him. Narcissa’s hair was falling from its once neat braid while also sporting a red cheek as if she had been hit. 

“Hermione, get your ass over here!” Draco snarled out as he dodged his Uncle’s elbow. 

Startled, Hermione moved across the room, and whatever had remained of her former discomfort was now replaced with a warmth in her lower belly. Seeing Professor Snape splayed across the bed in only black trousers and a white dress shirt was both off-putting and strangely…arousing. Hermione blanched at the unbidden thought, it was neither the time or place for school girl fantasies. 

Professor Snape’s flailing slowed and calmed as she reached the side of the bed. Hermione looked into his hazy eyes, her voice came out soft and apprehensive, “What do you need me to do?”

Her eyes glanced back and forth between the Malfoys who flanked the bed and the man lying in it. The ex-spy was now mumbling softly, his eyes trying to focus but failing. It was disconcerting seeing the powerful man reduced to incoherent mumbling. He had always been a strong and intimidating figure in her life. It felt intrusive for her to be there, to witness whatever this was. But at the same time, she wanted to be there. She wanted to help him. He deserved help. Even if she didn’t remember why she had risked her life for him, she had already deemed him worthy of her loyalty and sacrifice. 

“Take his hand first, Hermione. I don’t want you to startle him but it seems the proximity is already helping,” Mrs. Malfoy still had a firm hand on Professor Snape’s shoulder, keeping him pinned. Her other hand was rubbing up and down his forearm as if to comfort him. Spurred on by a wave of possessiveness, Hermione sat on the bed, reached across the man and took his hand that was on her side of the bed. 

Immediately, she felt a swooping liquid feeling come over her. It was seeking comfort, and she instinctively pushed soothing feelings toward it with her magic. It was like a pot of water that suddenly boiled over, but rather than burn her, a wave of ‘right-ness’ calmed the last of her anxieties. The Professor must have felt something similar as his twitching stopped and the tension of his entire body melted away.

“H-hermione?” His voice came out as nothing more than a croak. Severus Snape then lifted his head and looked at her with the most adoring and relieved eyes that had ever looked upon her. Her heart clenched with familiarity. 

She gripped his hand tighter and moved further up the bed, not noticing Draco moving away and relinquishing his hold on his Uncle. Hermione leaned closer to her Professor who breathlessly spoke, “You came…Hermione.”

“Yes, Professor, I’m here,” She replied reverently. Being in such close proximity was doing things to her. The images from her dreams flashed by. A pulsing need was settling between her legs in a way she had never felt before. It should have been mortifying. She should have sprang away from the bed the moment he settled, but instead she leaned in as he lifted his free hand.

They looked in each other’s eyes for a long while, his dark pools searing into her light brown irises. His thumb caressed her cheek then her bottom lip. His fingers slid back and threaded into her mane of hair, scratching lightly. Hermione closed her eyes at the intimate gesture, she felt like her nerve endings were singing to her, begging for more. 

Her eyes flew open when he sat up suddenly. Hermione realized that she was the only one near the bed now. Before she could investigate that, she felt his large hands grip her by the waist. Pulling a startled yelp from her throat, Professor Snape hauled her across his lap and gazed down at her, noses nearly touching. His gentle caress returned as he swept her hair behind her ear and tilted her chin up towards him. She felt his other arm wrap around her waist from behind, keeping her firmly in his lap. It was such an intimate position to be in while also in his bed in his private chambers. 

“Professor, are you ill?” Hermione blurted out the first question that came to mind. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of fear, worry, arousal, and confusion. But all of that came to a halt when she noticed the small smile on his face. She had never seen the man smile before. While this was the faintest upturning of lips, it was still so out of character that she wondered if the Professor was truly aware of himself. This entire tableau would have seemed impossible to her if she weren’t living it. 

Hermione felt like she could read him like a book for the first time in the 6 years she had known him. He was relieved, calm, and happy to be there with her in his arms. Something deep inside her clenched, the type of tear inducing internal shift that told you to weep from happiness. Professor Snape’s fingers traced a line up her jaw and to her cheek bone. She watched his eyes follow the path he drew, scrutinizing her like an abstract painting. Vaguely, in the distance, Hermione heard someone cough, maybe even call her name. But she ignored it. 

The young woman’s hand trembled as she lifted a hand to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers. His eyes closed slowly, a gasp resulted from the small contact. The way he turned his head a little, chasing her touch was endearing. So much so that before he could open his eyes again she leaned forward and dared to touch her lips to his in a feather light kiss. 

She was only able to pull back an inch before his lips chased hers. The hand on her cheek found the back of her head and pulled her close as he fisted her curls. Their chests were flush and she grasped at the clothes that covered his torso. His tongue slipped past the seam of her lips, startling her only for her mouth to open with a gasp that allowed him to deepen the kiss further. They both groaned into each other’s lips, a wanton noise that made Hermione’s thighs clench. 

Hermione felt like she was melting. His body was so warm, his hands held her so firmly. He tasted faintly of tea, and he smelled like spices with something woodsy. There was a tickle on her cheek where his hair had fallen forward and danced across her skin. It was a sensory buffet that had begun when she had entered the room and saw him on his bed for the first time and ended with an all-consuming kiss and embrace. Then it was over. They parted panting. 

The open look on his face seemed to recede inward. The stoicism returned and then he was shoving her off his lap so he could, with as much dignity as possible, crawl out of his bed and disappear into the adjacent bathroom with a loud slam of the door. 

Hermione seemed to lag in comprehension of what had happened. But when she turned her head back towards the door, she saw a red-faced Draco with a raised brow and a smirk on his face, Mrs. Malfoy rubbing her temples with her eyes closed, and the deep piercing gaze of Harry. The look Harry gave her seemed to call forth an angry beast. 

“Harry James Potter, you better look somewhere else before I hex you! You don’t get to look betrayed like a scorned boyfriend when you haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend! Especially after you and Draco dragged me here without an explanation!” Hermione shuffled off the bed and strode right up to the group. Draco stepped back behind Harry, expecting a punch to be thrown. Mrs. Malfoy opened one eye and then sighed again.  

“So which of you is going to explain to me why that kiss,” She pointed to the bed, “wasn’t one sided when that man is my Professor who hates my mere existence!” 

None of them spoke. Harry had the wherewithal to look abashed. Mrs. Malfoy finally took control of the situation, “I believe this is a conversation best had in the living room so that Severus can have some privacy.” 

Blushing furiously at the mention of the man who had snogged her within an inch of her life, Hermione led the way out of the room and into the main living space. She willed herself to ignore the tingling beneath her skin and the voiceless urge to walk back into the room and wait for him.

—-----------------------

It took reciting the entire list of ‘Ingredients Most Abundant’  from his favorite Potions text to get his body under control. It took every ounce of willpower not to smash the mirror at the sight of his reflection. You idiotic old man! If you had just given her some detentions or asked her to meet you during office hours, it wouldn’t have escalated to this! You practically forced yourself upon her!

Severus pulled at his hair roughly. He was scandalized at his actions. It all had felt like a painful and scattered dream he was following the flow of, right up until her lips met his. Then it was crystal clear. He should have pulled away the moment the bond had receded, satiated for the time being. But, treacherously, he had kept her pressed close to him and savored the kiss. It was only the need for air that parted them. Then came the guilt and the disgust. 

He knew they were still out there. The irate voice of the young woman had traveled across the room and he knew she would not leave without answers. Part of him wanted to send them a patronus and command them to leave his quarters. He winced, knowing it would only backfire. He didn’t want to think of Hermione or Narcissa coming to find him and dragging him out by his hair, as amusing as that would be to watch were it happening to anyone else. 

Severus did not care that it was cowardly, he decided to make them wait. Still covered in sweat, and dirt from his flailing on the ground, he took a shower and worked on bringing back all the different layers of his armor, including his teaching robes. An hour later he walked into his sitting room to find the four most meddlesome people he knew having tea. 

Hermione stood up immediately upon realizing he was in the doorway, “Professor, h-how are you f-feeling?”

The nervous stutter in her voice was endearing and disturbing in its own way. Hermione, without her most recent memories, was a stark contrast to the jaded girl he had met on the Astronomy tower months ago. He could better equate this young woman to the girl he had taught for the past 6 years. It made him even more disgusted with himself. Severus had tried to justify his reactions to her with her true age and her maturity. But without any of that at the forefront of her personality, she was simply a young woman who was nervous to confront a teacher that had violated her in his bed after being forced to come to his aid. 

The Potions Master kept his expression neutral as he walked into the room and to the mantle where he could see all of them without sitting. “While I appreciate your…concern…Miss Granger, it is none of your business. Now the three of you get out. I need to speak with Narcissa.”

“None of my business?!” Hermione screeched. She looked quite put out but he avoided meeting her gaze. Suddenly, Severus felt he might have to amend his earlier thoughts, the fierce version of the girl may be closer than he initially estimated.

“Hermione, leave it, let’s go,” The cold command in Potter’s voice was surprising. He took Hermione’s hand and pulled her to a standing position. The bond flared hot and bright in Severus’s chest, obviously displeased with the contact and the notion of losing proximity to the girl so soon. 

“Harry, Hermione, please sit down.” Narcissa may have said ‘please’ but her tone was demanding. 

The two 7th years sat down heavily. The boy put his head in his hands with his elbows on his thighs, content to ignore the things around him. Severus could feel the curly haired witch glaring daggers at him. 

“There’s really no point in hiding it now, Severus. If you hadn’t let it get this far, then we wouldn’t have had to resort to such involved methods. You told me you were giving her detentions to keep her close.” The chiding tone of her voice reminded him of how she used to discipline a much younger Draco. Narcissa's disappointment stung in the way only a mother could make it sting. 

“Forgive me for not wanting to use my position to take advantage of a student, Cissy,” Severus shot back. He knew she was right but he didn’t have to admit it. 

“It’s not just you that needs the proximity, Severus. You may have a larger price to pay, but the boys found her nearly passed out near Ancient Runes. If they hadn’t been there, what would have happened? Not to mention no one knows how long you were writhing about on your floor before I came to check on you. This girl has given you a gift of a second chance, you will not waste it by being stupid,” she reminded him. Narcissa was standing, staring him down. 

“Um, Mrs. Malfoy, may I say something?” Hermione interrupted, her voice now even. Still that hesitant tone that was different to the girl he had known was etched into her words. With one last glance at him, Narcissa took her seat again and gestured for Hermione to say her piece. 

“So, from what I’ve gathered, the…um proximity between me and Professor Snape is important and will prevent us from whatever it is we were both feeling.” The girl met his gaze, then looked away, her face flushing pink. “You all agree but no one will tell me why. This is probably how I lost my memory, isn’t it? This Thing that is attacking us. I know you’re keeping something from me.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, Curls,” Draco responded. He looked at his mother and Severus, then with a great sigh, continued, “You’ve bonded your soul and magical core to my godfather.” 

“I did what?” She blinked two times before her eyes widened. He could almost see her spiraling thoughts manifesting around her like the pages in her library.

“We are trying to figure out how to reverse it, but we don’t know what exactly you did, and obviously you don’t remember,” the boy next to her interrupted. Potter took her hand as he spoke. The girl looked down at the joined hands on her lap, tilting her head curiously. She looked at everyone in the room, then her gaze traveled back and forth between him and Potter. He focused on her bottom lip that she had pulled between her teeth.

“Miss Granger, you will chew your lip raw if you don’t just blurt out whatever it is you want to say,” He snapped at her, annoyed at his lingering stare. 

“I’m bonded to both of you, aren’t I?” 

“You know you’re bonded to me too?” Potter looked shocked, then hurriedly followed up with, “When did you bond us, Hermione?”

The girl looked at their hands, “I don’t remember.”

“Then how do you know about your bond with Harry, Hermione?” Narcissa’s face was inscrutable, her focus lasered in. 

“I can see it. Right here, it’s like a ribbon on my finger,” She lifted the hand that Potter had been holding. “When Harry and I touch, I can see our ribbons are connected. When we aren’t touching I can only feel it, like his magic wrapped around my finger.” 

“Ribbons…” Narcissa whispered thoughtfully, already searching her wide breadth of knowledge for answers. 

Severus knew the young witch and wizards wouldn’t notice how she tensed upon hearing the description of the bond, but he did. She had masterfully kept her calm but the tremor of her hand as she reached for her cup of tea gave her away. The blond woman’s eyes scanned the room looking for something, stopping on the pile of ritual books they had been studying. 

Not liking the look on her face, he called out her name, “Narcissa,”

When their eyes met he delved into her mind. He expected to see her carefully polished mind garden that he had helped her build, instead it was a barrage of two words repeated over and over in a dark abyss, “Vittas Vitae! Vittas Vitae! Vittas Vitae! Vittas Vitae! Vittas Vitae! Vittas Vitae!”

Severus returned to the familiar sitting room and felt his heart race. Alchemy. It wasn’t just a bond, it was Alchemy.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Harry sat cuddled up on the common room couch. Everyone around them was getting ready to leave for the winter holiday, saying their well-wishes and promising to write each other. The train would be leaving in an hour and the usual frenzy of the holidays suffused the air. 

Ron appeared at the portrait door with a soft smile on his face. Hermione watched the ginger as he crossed the room, picked up her legs that were strewn across the couch, sat down and laid her legs across his lap. She raised her brow at him, “What’s got you all smiley, Ron?”

Ginny burst through the portrait door, stopping to gape at her brother, “DID I JUST SEE YOU KISSING OLIVIA STRIKER?!”

Silence filled the mostly empty common room as they all looked at Ron expectantly. The redhead had blushed bright enough to match his hair as he nodded in affirmation. 

Harry threw a pillow at his friend, “Oy! When the hell did that happen? Last month you two were at each other’s throats during the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match.”

“She’s been helping me with History of Magic since Hermione has been a little preoccupied,” Ron was smiling brightly, running a nervous hand through his hair. “When would I have told you two anyway? You’ve been holed up in Hermione’s room until McGonagall told you off. I wasn’t even sure she liked me back until she kissed me down in the entrance hall.”

Ginny walked up and smacked her brother’s arm. “If you hurt her I will make sure you’ll need to be sent to St.Mungo’s to retrieve your bullocks, Ron.”

Ron paled, “I won’t, geeze. You’d think you were her mother.”

“She’s my only female friend who actually likes to play quidditch. What am I going to do if you break her heart, Ron!” Ginny smacked him again. 

The siblings continued to squabble in their familiar manner. It was odd for her to be there, in this normal teenage setting. Hermione wasn’t a teenager anymore because of her time traveling and she had problems no one else could relate to. She had a bond with Severus Snape that she had caused and couldn’t remember. She might have even bound herself to her best friend as well. It seemed so reckless and so unlike herself. But then again, Professor Snape was different and Harry was in love with her. Hermione felt her face flush as she recalled their walk back to her rooms the night before. 

The three students had been banished from Professor Snape’s quarters by Mrs. Malfoy. They had followed Draco into the Great Hall for dinner despite being a bit early. Harry kept a firm hand clutching hers or rested it on her thigh the entire dinner. It was possessive and protective. Even a little intimidating after what had just happened in their potions professor’s rooms. 

The Headmaster wished everyone a good holiday and unceremoniously unleashed a wave of floating mistletoe through the Great Hall, spread out by a soft gust of snowy wind that gave off no coldness. The Christmas trees that lined the room were suddenly lit with the wizard equivalent of fairy lights. It was as breathtaking as it was every year. Hermione suddenly remembered her parents and how she had always wanted to show them the castle. A feeling of melancholy rushed over her.

Around them, students were leaving the hall in droves. The air was filled with excited chatter that was interrupted by errant shrieks as various couples were caught under enchanted mistletoe. None of this could rouse her from the longing feeling in her heart. She felt Harry push her hair out of her face and comb it back. He looked at her with such warmth that her heart skipped a beat. 

“Come on, Hermione,” It was as if Harry knew she was feeling sad. He helped her up off of the bench and walked, hands entwined through the throngs of students. It didn’t come as a surprise when they were caught under some mistletoe a few steps before they made it out of the hall.  

“Well go on then you two! We already know you’ve had your practice!” Seamus egged on from the crowd. 

Bashful in front of most of the school, she kept her head down against his chest. She felt him chuckle and place his hands at her waist. A part of her was mortified at the entire idea, but years of failure had taught them that there was no use in trying to get free without sharing a kiss. Dumbledore was the only one who could end the spell, but he never did unless a student and teacher were caught together. That thought brought her back to earlier when Professor Snape had kissed her in his bed. If her face wasn’t bright red it would be now.

“Hermione, it’s ok,” Harry whispered, his finger tilting her head so she was looking him in the eye. His familiar eyes seemed to stare into her soul, the bond between them pulsed. It was only then that she noticed that the feel of it on her pinky had spread up the back of her arm, around her shoulder and down her other arm to her other pinky. Like an airy shawl that enveloped her. She could see a similar ribbon over Harry’s shoulder. 

The radiance and the glow of it, brighter than she had ever seen it. Harry smiled down at her and she returned it earnestly before leaning up and capturing his lips. Her mind was a confusing whirlwind of pleasure and a yearning for something else. The memory of Snape, his scent and his touch, burned through her senses. Hermione deepened the kiss making herself taste Harry and smell the petrichor tinged scent of him. She felt his arms wrapped around her. 

The face of Snape, looking at her adoringly in his bedroom, flashed in her mind and a sharp pain stabbed her in the chest. The moan that she emitted was mistaken by Harry as a result of their kiss. His hand fisted her hair as his tongue teased hers. Hermione felt like she was stuck in two different moments, here with Harry under a mistletoe and in Snape’s bed with his hand on her cheek. 

The velvety touch of Harry’s magic and his lips was interrupted as they were doused with ice cold water that made them jump apart. 

“Miss Granger! Mister Potter! Detention on the first day of next term! The mistletoe moved on long ago.” Professor McGonagall waved her wand at them, casting a drying charm. 

“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said, though his wide grin didn’t match his words. The Scottish matron sighed, shaking her head. 

“Need I remind you that you are Head Girl, Miss Granger?”

“No, Professor,” Hermione bowed her head. Her nerve endings were dancing with the feel of Harry while her mind was wrapped around the memory of Professor Snape. 

“I will be checking in with both of you at curfew. Do not let me find you loitering in Miss Granger’s room, Mister Potter. Chosen One or not, you are still a ward of this school and we have rules,” With a ‘hmph’ Mcgonagall strode away. 

Harry laughed once she was out of earshot. Their audience had dispersed while they were being reprimanded. Hermione felt like she was split in two. It was as if the knowledge and full awareness of the two bonds was creating an internal conflict. The ribbon felt reassuring because it felt like Harry. The larger liquid darkness of her bond with Snape was mysterious, unfamiliar, but so enticing. As enthralling as the man himself. 

“Hermione, are you alright?” Harry took her hands in his. 

Once more touching him, she could see the ribbons of magic that wrapped around them. As they walked back to her dorm, her mind raced with all the new information. She noticed then that if she looked closely, the ribbons looked almost like a rolling current that traveled from her to him. Hermione also noticed for the first time that while the ribbon was tied around her pinkies the ends of Harry’s rested loosely in each palm, as if he could drop it to the floor at any moment. Hermione felt a shiver travel up her spine and felt like she knew more but couldn’t get the memory to surface. The only thing that came to mind was that it looked almost like Harry held the reins and she was simply meant to go where he led. Like a leash. She shook her head at the unsettling idea. 

“Yes, Harry. I’m fine, just a little embarrassed,” Hermione nodded but couldn’t look him in the eye. They walked hand-in-hand until they reached her door. 

Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple. His voice was muffled as she returned the hug, burying her face in his chest. “Hermione, I know the bonds are scary. But I need you to know that no matter what, I’m here. I don’t care about the bond you have with Snape. I don’t care if I have to put up with him to be with you. We are also bonded somehow, which means you are meant to be here. Do you understand?”

“Harry,” She pulled back far enough to meet his eyes. The look of determination and love, paired with the bond that she could see from her periphery was overwhelming. “Harry, if I can’t break the bonds…I can’t ask you to wait for me. The war…everything…we don’t even know what the bonds will do. They have already altered so much. How do you even know you actually like me romantically and it’s not just this bond?”

“I love you, Hermione. I. Love. You. The war is here, and we have no idea what will happen to any of us. I don’t have time to second guess myself and I don’t want to. You’re it, Hermione. I knew at the end of last year. When I told you about the horcruxes and your first thought was of my safety. It took me so long to see it but I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Bond or not. If it means we have to have tea with Snape every afternoon so neither of you go crazy, I’ll deal with it.” Harry held her hands firmly. “You don’t have to say it back. If I’ve learned anything all these years, it’s that some things don’t need words.” 

Hermione cupped his cheek and gazed into his sincere eyes. Her body seemed to suffuse with warmth and safety. She knew that she had loved Harry as a friend since first year. But seeing this man he had grown into, confessing his love for her, she didn’t know what to say. There was a part of her that was hesitating. She had a feeling it had to do with the memories she had lost. 

Not able to do anything else, she kissed his lips softly and bid him ‘goodnight’. 

“Hey, Hermione, are you feeling okay?” Ron asked, squeezing one of her legs that lay across his lap. 

Startled out of her thoughts, Hermione smiled, “I’m alright Ron, just a little tired. Studying for my Arithmancy term final might have made my brain mush.”

Ron made a face at the subject, “Well, we are on holiday. After the Order meeting, we’ll be at Grimmauld place with mum and everyone. You can take your mind off everything for a bit.”

“Yeah, Hermione, you can finally read something for leisure,” Ginny teased. “Anyway, sorry ‘Mione, but I’m going to steal Harry and my brother. We agreed to a pick up game of quidditch with Draco. He’s probably already waiting for us.”

“You sure you don’t want to come, Hermione?” Harry asked when he noticed her roll her eyes.

“Wait, Ginny, can I talk to you for a bit?” Hermione said, sitting up and looking around them. 

Ginny nodded and told the boys she would catch up, “What’s up Hermione?”

“You know there’s an Order meeting tonight?” Hermione began. 

Ginny scrunched her nose, “Yes, and I’m still not allowed to sit in.”

Hermione chuckled at the girl’s disgruntled face. “I wanted to let you know about some of the major things that have changed in the war effort. I think you deserve to know and I would also, selfishly, like to be able to talk to another woman about it all.”

“What are you talking about Hermione?” Ginny looked contemplative. 

“You’re only a year younger than us, and I know you’ll be using the extendable ears anyway to listen in on what you can of the meeting. But I think having you know will help me a lot when I can’t go to the boys about it. Ya know, when I need a level head,” Hermione smiled softly at the girl. 

“Is it about why you lost some of your memory?” The ginger-haired girl asked, tentatively. 

“We still don’t know what caused that and it seems some things are still being kept from me to keep me from being overwhelmed,” Hermione glanced at the portrait hole that Harry and Ron had left through. She knew it was probably Dumbledore who had told them to withhold information so she really couldn’t blame them. What she had already learned was overwhelming enough. “Gin, do you know what a soulbond is?”

The other girl’s brow furrowed, “Are you bonded to someone, Hermione?”

“Earlier this year I performed a ritual that resulted in me being bound to the person I was doing it for. I still don’t remember what exactly happened.”

“Hermione, who are you bound to?” Ginny asked, curiosity getting the best of her. 

“Professor Snape. Before you say anything. That’s what I know; I don’t know what else the boys know. I had decided to modify a ritual to remove any dark curses on Professor Snape. It resulted in the removal of the Dark Mark and his improved appearance. But it has also complicated things. He can no longer spy for us,” Hermione explained, interrupting the questions that were swimming in Ginny’s head.

“You’re alright though?” Ginny moved to sit next to her and take her hand. 

“Yes, Ginny. I’m fine. The bond doesn’t require much to maintain it. It has caused some uncomfortable encounters that I would love to have a girl to talk with about,” Hermione admitted. 

“So, let me just get this all straight,” The Weasley girl frowned as she rifled through her thoughts, “You are bound to Snape and you are the reason he looks so young. But now that he doesn’t have a Mark he can’t spy for us. So the war plan will pivot. Do we have any other spies?”

“Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione responded, bracing herself for the response.

“What…oh so he’s turned coat as well. Like Mrs. Malfoy and Malfoy the younger,” Ginny rubbed her temples. “Can you break the bond?”

“Not without knowing what I did to modify the initial ritual,” Hermione leaned deeper into the sofa.

“Did you ever look through your journals? There might be some clues. You always did fill them with bits and scraps of ideas,” Ginny reminded her. 

“Oh! Gin, you’re brilliant. I completely forgot. Look, I know the boys are waiting for you so go,” She replied, standing and waving her off. 

Unexpectedly, Ginny pulled her in for a warm embrace, “You’re a brilliant witch but you can be so stupid. Rituals, bonds, and Severus Snape. We will talk more tonight, deal?”

“Deal,” Hermione agreed, then insisted that the girl go. 

It took a bit of work but she found the stack of journals and, specifically, the one she had started at the end of the last school year. There was also a curious amount of books Hermione didn’t recall ever having. It seems she had truly gotten busy the last 6 months. She pulled some of the leather bound tomes out and immediately realized they were books on bonds and alchemy. As excited as she was to find some clues, she was eager to read her journal. 

It started with the end of last term. She recognized some of the entries at first, then it all became foreign. Her eyes sped across line after line of text. Pieces of paper with scribbled notes and arithmancy equations were tucked between entries. Hermione felt her heart racing, dread creeping in. She’d not just been researching bonds and rituals, but specifically ones that would take a sacrifice for a life returned. From her notes, she realized she had been working on a brand new ritual. 

Those entries were starkly different from the more mundane musings of her life at Grimmauld place and the frustration of the war. Hermione chose to ignore the more orderly and lengthy entries to focus on those about research. In passing she saw Professor Snape mentioned more than she expected in those verbose entries of the day-to-day. She marked those to look through later, curious about how far their involvement had run. 

Then the scribbled equations and spastic train of thought came to a sudden stop. The following pages were scratched and torn and angry. She couldn’t make out any words for a few pages, but it was almost like she could feel the sadness and pain dripping out of them. There was a sick feeling in her stomach that was replaced by the feeling of wanting to be swallowed by the ground. 

Taped to one page was a newspaper article, “23 Killed In Largest Mass Shooting in Australian History.”

Her hands trembled as she flipped the article open from where it was folded in half. There, underlined with wobbly lines, were the aliases she had considered for her parents. They were in the middle of the list of casualties with a picture of them. Her tears hit the paper, joining the older dried stains on the brittle page. She flipped forward and found the next few pages empty. It seemed she had stopped writing completely after that. 

Overcome with emotion, Hermione dropped the journal to the ground and sobbed. Her lungs couldn’t seem to fill with enough air to catch up with her wails of anguish. Her hands reached out for support, even as her knees buckled beneath the weight of her grief. The fount of agony and suffering in her chest made her curl in on herself, while around her, her magic wreaked havoc to mirror her broken heart. 

—------

Severus was making his rounds as the last few students left for the holiday. He had taken a moment to relish in the silent hallways and look out upon the snowy embankment surrounding the school. It was a moment of peace in a sea of turmoil, but it was short-lived.

He felt her magic surge followed by a stream of emotions so jumbled and painful it felt like a punch in the chest. Hermione.

It was luck or coincidence, but Severus was on the floor where Gryffindor Tower let out. He dashed down the hall, and with a swish of his wand broke her wards and strode into the Head Girl rooms. He was immediately met with a bombardment of unrestricted magic that did nothing to quell the sounds of a woman screaming and crying like a dying animal. Within moments he found her surrounded by the remains of her rooms. She was on her knees with a whirlwind of magic circling her. 

“Hermione!” His voice was firm but she did not acknowledge him. Realizing that his Occlumency shields were up, he tore them down and felt the full onslaught of her emotions. Through the bond he called for her, pushing his dark liquid magic at her. The whirlwind died, the wailing quieted, but the girl didn’t look up. The pain, the self hatred, the regret, and most of all, the guilt was crashing around him. Then suddenly it was receding. No! 

He recognized the signs of deep occlusion. He crossed the room, pulling her up to her feet but she couldn’t hold herself up. Severus tipped her chin and saw the dead look of her eyes. Panic nearly took hold of him, but he shoved it away. With a whispered apology, the potions master tore into her mind. Legilimens

There was no library. 

There was nothing at all. 

Chapter Text

Severus quelled the panic that arose as he took in the dark expanse. The speed at which she had forced herself into deep occlusion would be impressive in any other situation. Whatever she had learned that triggered this response was monumental, and he feared its effect on the young woman and her memory loss. He closed his eyes and reached out for the bond. 

It was faint but straight ahead. Despite the odd out-of-body feeling he was experiencing, he ran forward into the abyss, chasing the faint feeling of the bond and the fiery licks of  Hermione’s magic. Severus came upon a wall of black stone and focused his magic on it. BOMBARDA!

The spell blew a hole in the middle of the wall that began rebuilding immediately. Severus jumped through the hole as quickly as he could manage. By the time his feet hit the ground, the hole had closed and he was in oppressive darkness. He quickly cast Lumos and found Hermione’s mind library was dark and disheveled. Severus recalled the last time he was here when she had shown him the conversation with Dumbledore about her parents. 

“Miss Granger?” There was a tremor to his voice that belied his worry. He called out again as he stepped around toppled furniture and books, “Hermione?” 

The Potions Master heard a soft gasp from behind the desk in the corner. Cautiously he crossed the room. When he circled the desk, he found Hermione curled up under it, surrounded by the books he recognized held her memories of her parents. She didn’t look up at him but tears spilled freely down her face as she turned the pages. Crouching down, he joined her under the desk with his legs splayed out in front of him, too long to fit in the cramped space; they stuck out like the crushed Wicked Witch of the East.  

“Hermione. Talk to me,” He spoke in a low, soft voice. Her brow rose when she lifted her head and turned to him. Severus continued, “The door is open.”

 “You’ve said that to me before.” As if she just realized who was sitting next to her, she slammed the book shut, “Professor Snape. You’re in my mind.”

“Astute observation as always, Hermione,” He quipped. 

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” She asked. Despite disliking explaining himself, he allowed her questions if it would stop her tears, even momentarily. 

“Yes, Hermione. A few times. It’s always a library and always in different states of repair and disrepair,” Severus answered. He guided the lit tip of his wand to look at the carnage around them. “Do you mind allowing the sconces to be lit?”

Hermione hesitated then nodded. Immediately half the sconces lit, enough light to maneuver around the room safely, but not bright enough to remove the gloom that had descended upon them. He could feel her staring at him, but he resolutely looked out at the room. Without another word, he stood up and began charming her library back to its original state, not speaking, only giving his presence in solidarity. 

“You keep calling me Hermione,” Her voice was still soft, fragile from crying. The girl closed the books around her and stacked them to her left side. 

“You asked me to call you that,” he responded matter-of-factly. He did not look at her, allowing her to set the pace. Severus knew he had to be delicate. She had pulled her mind library so far back that he would need her cooperation to save her from the abyss of deep occlusion. 

“I don’t remember.”

“Obviously.” 

“I like it when you say my name. Your voice is soothing,” She closed her eyes and sighed. 

He paused, surprised by the candid and vulnerable admittance. Severus finished the majority of the work he was doing before looking back at her. The tear stains on her cheeks were still prominent and her hair was a mess as always. Yet you still find her beautiful like this; even more so in your bed. He waved away the memory of his follies. 

“Hermione, talk to me. Please.” he encouraged her. His voice was not stern nor forceful. It was a plea. He knew how she had spiraled the first time. The catalyst to their current coupling. 

“You know already, I can tell. I don’t know how but I can,” She rubbed new tears away with more force than was needed. “You know how they died.”

Severus took a deep breath as he sat down near her again. He spoke softly, “How did you find out? I know that you never told Potter the details.”

“Journals. I kept journals. Ginny reminded me,” She sniffled, “I thought it would help me remember, to look at what I had written. None of it was that familiar to me, but then the passages stopped. All this research, arithmancy, notes, book titles, and snippets of life at Grimmauld Place; all ended with an article. I never wrote in the journal again after that.”

“Article?” Severus prodded. Another muffled sob racked her body as she pulled a thin sheaf of newspaper out of a book of memories and handed it to him. He only knew about it because of what little she had shared with him. But seeing the article was jarring with its image that held the hair and eyes of the girl next to him on the visage of an older woman. The man next to her had Hermione’s nose and smile. It felt wrong to see them when they were already gone. Quickly, his eyes scanned the article and he felt queasy at the details therein. 

23 muggles dead because one decided he wanted to go down fighting? Three of the dead were younger than the first years. He had known the personal brutality of muggles at the hands of his father, Tobias. But this heedless, useless violence was evil in its own right. There was no sense and he understood even more why Hermione bore the guilt so heavily. Her parents would likely have survived the war, untouched by magic, if this single muggle had come to his senses or she had never sent them there to begin with.

The contrast between the proud evilness of the Dark Lord to the quiet destruction caused by a muggle was striking. Next to him, he could hear his bonded weeping. Unable to resist the need to comfort her, he folded up the article, tucked it back into the book and then pulled the grieving girl into his arms. She did not resist, sinking into his embrace and sobbing into his shoulder. 

Severus kept a soothing hand running up and down the length of his back while pulling her into his lap to make the position more comfortable. Hermione continued to sniffle and sob, pressing herself into his embrace with her hands gripping his frock coat. He didn’t realize he had been softly shushing her and feeding her platitudes in his rumbling voice until she sat up and looked at him. He stopped abruptly. The Slytherin didn’t know how long they had been sitting there but her sudden movement had startled him out of his deep thoughts. 

He noticed belatedly that, although her eyes were red, she didn’t have tears down her face or a running nose. Between their comforting embrace and soft words, she had stopped crying. Their eyes met and the bond surged forward, the urge to kiss her and to make her forget the pain she had been forced to relive spread through his being. With a growl at himself, he removed his hands and pushed her off his lap. 

Severus scrambled to his feet, bumping his head into the edge of the desk as he went, making him curse under his breath. He flexed his hands anxiously before holding one out for her to take so he could help her from her spot under the desk. Hermione’s touch was hesitant but the feel of their skin touching made the liquid heat and the blustering fire of their magics dance between them like ebbing and flowing waves. 

Hermione gasped, then let go of his hand. Stepping away, she started to shuffle through loose paper on the desk, her back to him. “You should go, Professor.” 

“I will not leave you here,” he countered sternly. 

“I want to stay here. It’s my mind. I can push you out,” She threatened. 

“While your occlumency is impressive, Hermione, you still stand no chance against a practiced Legilimens like myself. Do not make such empty threats,” He scoffed. 

She whirled around and glared at him, “I never gave you permission to be here. So leave me alone.”

He closed the distance between them in two long strides until they were chest-to-chest. Severus looked down into her face, holding her chin so she couldn’t look away, “You may not remember the promises I made to you, Hermione. But I do. I will not lock you away in this library.”

“You should have,” She replied coldly. Her dark reply concerned him. “Everyone would have been better off if I had just run off with my family. I could have been there to save them or at least die with them.” 

With a great push, she shoved him away and began to pick up the last few books still strewn across the floor. He didn’t like where her thoughts were going. Following her around the room he baited her, “I had thought you were smarter than your dunderheaded friends, Hermione,  but that was definitely the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Shut up, Snape,” The growl was laced with frustration. To hear her refer to him in such a distanced manner made his lip twitch. 

“You are looking at the proof of what I just said. You think ‘everyone’ would have been better off if you’d gone off and died? If you had died, as you wish, I would still bear a cursed mark, have my soul beholden to two masters, and bear vows I had no choice but to make. There is nothing you could have done to save your parents!” Severus gripped her bicep and held her in place. “Think, woman! Did you really send them there because you wanted to?”

Hermione fought for release but he held fast, “Let me go, you bastard!”

“Think, Hermione! Ask yourself the questions you would ask anyone who would do what you did. The Order has safe houses. There is Grimmauld Place and of course this very castle! Why would you, the brightest witch of her age, jump to the irreversible conclusion of obliviating your parents and sending them to another country, in full view?” The question stopped her struggling. Different emotions passed over her expressive face from frustration, then realization, horror, and finally fury. Her breath was coming fast and shallow. 

“Hermione, breathe!” She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. Severus audibly breathed with her, to give her a pace to match. When she finally opened her eyes, they once more held the dead look in them he had recognized all those months ago when he had fallen with her off the Astronomy Tower. “Hermione?”

“It was Dumbledore, wasn’t it? He…told me to do it or made me do it. He would be the only one powerful enough to influence someone without the use of a spell.” The young woman sounded stoic but her voice cracked when she spoke again, “This is what you wanted to keep from me. Not just the bond between us, but my parents and what Dumbledore did.” 

“We feared–I feared how you would handle all the news at once. Forgive me for keeping things from you,’” Severus apologized, moving his grip so he could take her hands. 

“It hurts,” Her voice trembled, “It hurts so much. I hate him.”

“I know,” Severus agreed. 

“I want to die,” She murmured. The admission weighed down the room and tore into his battered heart. The lightness that had surrounded her since her memory loss was now completely snuffed out, leaving him with the broken girl he met at the top of the Astronomy Tower that first night of term. Just like that first time, he would not let her succumb to these dark thoughts.

“So help me, Hermione Jean Granger, if you allude to your death one more time I will lock you in my potions lab so you may never leave,” He shoved her into an armchair then bent over her, his hands on either side of her on the arms of the chair. “Have you forgotten that you are bonded? Your death could mean the end for Potter and me. You would likely rid this war of two of its biggest players to assuage your unnecessary guilt. You’re better than that, witch.”

Looking abashed, she nodded her head, “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

Feeling a bit guilty for being so harsh, he knelt before her and placed a hand on her knee, “I know you are angry and confused and hurt. You’ve still got memories locked away and now I’ve told you that the Great Wizard, Dumbledore, plays as many manipulative games as any other evil despot. But the war still needs to be won. We have already promised each other to make it to the end of this war alive. I do not make promises lightly.”

“What if I don’t remember the promise?” She replied, haughtily. He almost snapped at her until he saw the twitch of her lip and the slight brightening of her gaze. Hermione was teasing him. She gripped one of his hands with both of hers, rubbing comforting circles into his skin. The contact was exquisite. 

“I know you, Hermione. An act of sacrifice is as easy to you as breathing. But from this moment on, do not sacrifice anything more for anyone else, not even for me,” He pleaded, his gaze softening as he lifted a hand to her cheek and caressed her skin. 

She turned into his touch but looked bashful doing it. “Prof-Severus, I saw some of the notes for the ritual. It seems I was pretty confident that we…um...had some interest in each other. Some of the notes said that the ritual would work better if the two involved had some…mutual ardor for each other.”

He huffed in amusement, “I shouldn’t be surprised that you would be so thorough when handling the ritual. Considering the results you were right.”

“I don’t love you,” She blurted out.

While it stung a little, it was also amusing to hear her say it again. What he had learned the day before about her bond to Potter had only solidified his thoughts on Hermione’s ability to love those around her. He chuckled, “You’ve told me that before Hermione. You also said you thought you couldn’t love anyone and my response remains the same; you have more capacity to love than most people.” 

“We spent time together before I lost my memories, didn't we?” She asked, curiosity taking precedence. 

“By the time the incident that took your memories occurred, we had spent a fair bit of time together. The strongest connections are made amid adversity, Hermione.” Severus got up from the floor, “Come, let’s clean up and get out of here. You must not occlude this deeply again, Miss Granger.” 

“I’d finally called you Severus and now you’re calling me Miss Granger again?” She stood, and although sadness still surrounded her, there was a hint of amusement. 

“The door has closed for today, Miss Granger. We have an Order meeting to get to and I would rather not be mauled by the mutt by referring to you in such a friendly manner. We may have come to an understanding between us, but outside of this library and this bond we are still professor and student.” He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. 

“I forgot about the meeting,” Hermione whispered. Then her eyes turned angry. “How will I face Dumbledore after remembering what he did?”

“You will act like you don’t remember. Using your amnesia as a cover while we share information will help us work around Dumbledore’s subterfuge. There are things he has kept even from me that I know will be important for this war. I have to stay in his good graces to get him to talk,” Severus knew it was a long and winding road ahead. There was a soft thump behind them. He stepped back and found a black book sitting in the middle of the desk. The book elicited a feeling of sickness. Upon reading the title, Snape’s jaw dropped open. Horcrux

—---------------------

Harry led the way to the Great Hall. He had to tell someone that they hadn’t been able to find Hermione. Following their quidditch match, they had gone to the Gryffindor tower to pull the girl into a game of Exploding Snap. When they hadn’t found her there, they tried her rooms, which were warded shut. They had split up and looked in the library, and the grounds, and even visited Hagrid. As the hours passed, they tried her rooms again. But no matter what spells they cast, they couldn’t break the wards. 

Harry burst into the Great Hall where the Order meeting was to take place. The house tables had been replaced with a long, wide table that would seat the core members of the Order easily. The only ones who had already arrived were Remus, Sirius, and Tonks. 

“Harry!” Sirius called out excitedly, striding forward and pulling the young man into a hug, “Ready to spend Christmas in the Noble House of Black?”

“Sirius, you have to help us find Hermione! We haven’t seen her in hours. I think she locked herself in the Head Girl rooms,” Harry explained to Sirius. Remus looked over concerned but before he could say anything, the main doors opened wider as Dumbledore led in the rest of the Order. Another group entered from the teacher’s entrance with McGonagall at the helm. 

The sea of people brought a cacophony, especially the Weasleys. The siblings all greeted each other and Molly Weasley fussed over everyone. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were thrust into chairs at the table. Nearly 10 minutes of shuffling and greetings took place before Dumbledore called the meeting to attention. Most seats were filled and Harry’s anxiety skyrocketed when he noticed that the only two not present were Hermione and Snape. 

“Welcome everyone. We have quite a bit to cover tonight before dinner is served.” The Headmaster sounded almost jovial despite the myriad of news that would need to be discussed. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table looking along the length of it at all of those seated. 

“Wait, Albus, Ginny shouldn’t be here, she is much too young. I think all those who are still attending Hogwarts should be excluded until graduation,” Mrs. Weasley said, looking pointedly at her two youngest children. 

“Forgive me, Molly, but I will speak for myself and say I am quite pleased to have Draco here considering our positions as refugees and wards of the Order,” Mrs. Malfoy said, calmly and with no room for rebuke. 

“I agree with Cissy, let them stay. Merlin knows that they are as entrenched in this as the rest of us, if not more,” Sirius chimed in, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry ignored the light arguing that ensued over their presence at the table, instead he was staring at the doors to the Great Hall, willing Hermione to walk through them. 

Harry only refocused when Dumbledore spoke over everyone, “While I appreciate your concerns. I think these young people have not only proven their bravery and loyalty but also deserve to know the details of the war effort they are already part of. We need every wand on our side that can contribute to the greater good.”

Mrs. Weasley finally nodded in acquiescence. Then the doors to the Great Hall opened and Harry felt the tension finally leave his chest when Hermione walked through the door. That tension was only to be replaced by an onslaught of jealousy as she walked in with her hand around Snape’s, pulling him into the room with her. The silence at the table seemed to grow heavier at the sight of them walking up to the table and taking the last two seats, putting Snape at the other end of the table and Hermione next to Draco. 

Harry’s eyes raked over Hermione, noticing her red eyes and the tremor in her shoulders. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth before glancing at Snape who nodded to her in understanding. 

“What the hell, Snape? What happened to trying to break the bond?” Sirius stood, pointing accusingly at the Potions Master who looked no less intimidating despite not wearing his outer robes or cloak. With his hair tied back, Harry could believe that they had been classmates. “Harry said you’ve had her locked up in her rooms for hours!”

“Severus!” McGonagall gasped.

“Bond? Severus and Hermione?” A horrified voice screeched. Mrs. Weasley looked as if she would faint. 

“Sirius, you idiot!” Remus grabbed Sirius by the arm and forced him back into his chair. 

After a long-suffering sigh, Snape steepled his fingers and propped his elbows on the table. “Remus, she already knows about the bond. And yes, Molly, due to some extenuating circumstances and the brilliance of a certain Gryffindor, Miss Granger and I are bound by soul and by magical core. To counter your implications, Mutt, I simply warded her rooms because she had some questions for me regarding the origin of the bond and some of her research around it that she has come across.” 

“Um…I feel like we’ve missed a huge chunk of this story and it seems like a story worth hearing,” Tonks piped up, looking around the table for support.

This seemed to be the opening everyone needed as questions and comments rolled out in a cacophony. Harry noticed that Hermione did not speak and seemed to defer to Snape. At the other end of the table, Harry was unsettled to find the Headmaster looking on at the squabbling table with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

“Enough!” Snape’s voice boomed. He tilted his head and nodded at Hermione, “Miss Granger wishes to speak and I do believe it would behoove all of you to listen.”

Properly chastised, the diverse group grew quiet, looking down at the table expectantly. Hermione stood and took a deep breath, then turned to her audience. “There has been a lot happening here at Hogwarts but not all of it is relevant to the goal of this meeting which is war strategy.”

Her voice had started softly and grew in volume and confidence. When her eyes met him, Harry noticed the detached look in her gaze, the one she had when they had left Grimmauld and started that term. Did Snape reveal more to her? Has she regained some of her memories? 

Hermione continued, “The most important is that Professor Snape can no longer spy for the Order.”

There were murmurs around the table from those who had not been made aware. Hermione ignored them and forged on, “I have lost about 6 months of my memory in an unfortunate accident. Due to this, I have very little information as to the ritual I forced upon Professor Snape earlier this year that rid him of the Dark Mark and also bound us together. While the bond can be…unpredictable, I do not see it as a priority for the Order. If you have specific questions, you may ask me privately but the knowledge of the bond will not leave any of your lips to anyone outside of those present. Is that clear?”

The last part was a threat if ever Harry heard one. He recalled the way Hermione had enchanted the DA sheet that had left their classmate scarred for a year. Hermione moved to stand near Snape, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sirius, you will stop accusing Professor Snape of all your horrid fantasies or I will use you as target practice. I have kept an animagus trapped before and I have no qualms about doing it again. Understand?”

There was a twitch to Snape’s lip that Harry suspected was either surprise or amusement. No one in the Order knew what Hermione had done to Rita Skeeter. He glanced at his godfather who made to protest but at the look in Harry’s eye, Sirius shut his mouth. 

“Professor Snape and I are working on the ritual and what I had initially modified so that we may be able to understand our bond more and possibly isolate the part of the enchantment that relieved him of dark magic, as there are a few among us who would benefit from this.” She glanced at him and then at Draco. Harry could tell she had looked at his scar. “This is the last we will speak of the bond unless it becomes relevant to the war effort.”

Hermione took her seat again while sharing another long look at the Potions Master. Harry suddenly felt like they were closer than he, her best friend, had ever been with her. Whatever they had shared in her rooms earlier had shifted their relationship into something more intimate than it had been since Hermione had lost her memory. Before his jealousy distracted him, Tonks once more broke the silence.

“So, um, I might be the only one who cares,” Tonks said, looking around the room. 

“Then by all means, don’t ask whatever it is you want to ask, Nymphadora,” Snape drawled. 

Tonks glared at Snape but continued, “Is no one going to acknowledge that Professor Snape looks like he’s aged backward? And that he isn’t wearing his bat wings?”

This unexpected inquiry broke the tension as most of the Weasley children laughed, and others murmured their agreement or coughed to cover up their amusement. 

“Nymphadora, let us just call it a positive side effect to being forced into a soul bond, and tethered to the magical core of the brightest witch of her age,” Snape almost sounded smug about it, tempting Harry to blurt out that he also had a bond with Hermione. 

“Call me Nymphadora one more time, Severus!” Tonks quarreled, standing up.

Snape smirked and drawled out, “Nympha-” 

The benign tickling spell left Tonks’ wand a moment later only for it to be blocked with an impressive opaque shield. The casting of which had sent a ripple of warm magic through the room, catching everyone off guard. When the shield was extinguished, it revealed Hermione standing in front of Snape, his chair pushed back so that she was planted between him and the table. Her hair sparked with magic as she dropped the hand she had lifted to cast the spell. But most jarring of all was the way her eyes glowed golden.

Snape stood up, put his hands on her shoulders, and whispered something in her ear. Everyone held their breath until she visibly relaxed, her hair falling back to its natural state, and her eyes losing the unnatural glow. Harry watched as Hermione turned to acknowledge the professor, cupping his cheek briefly. The brief but intimate gesture dropped a cold stone straight into his stomach. The weeks of Hermione being his, and his alone, had deluded him into thinking that they could overcome her soulbond to the former spy. But the evidence to the contrary screamed at him. Even as she turned back to the room, Harry felt panic rise.

For the first time, Harry felt like he wasn’t looking at Hermione but someone he didn’t even know.

Chapter Text

Harry could feel Hermione’s magic as it suffused the room. For the first time, Harry felt his chest throb with rage, rage that he didn’t understand. Part of him was screaming to send a real curse at the Potions Master and claim Hermione. The dark thought startled Harry.  He looked away from Professor Snape as he spoke softly to Hermione. Closing his eyes, Harry took the time to figure out what the rage was about besides the obvious jealousy. It was then that he realized he had felt the bond between him and Hermione for the first time. When he opened his eyes he still had a strong urge to pull the Gryffindor woman into his embrace so that Snape couldn’t touch her anymore. 

Can bonds clash? Compete? Why is this the first time I felt it? Harry was roused from his thoughts when Dumbledore’s steely voice filled the silence. 

“Miss Granger, I suggest you take a seat and refrain from being any more of a distraction. You have already ‘helped’ enough. Spare us any more of it, as generous as you have been,” The Headmaster was upset but was holding it in, barely. Harry thought for a moment that he would continue to lecture Hermione, but then his visage melted back into the pleasant old man right before his eyes, “Tonks, please refrain from sending hexes across the table, wouldn’t want to hit anyone you didn’t intend to.”

The doubt that had been developing concerning the Headmaster mounted every day. Harry vowed then that he would keep the bond between him and Hermione a secret. He had a distinct feeling that the bond would be used against them–whether by the Headmaster or Voldemort remained to be seen. 

Dumbledore continues the meeting, asking about Ministry affairs, safe houses, and the ‘project’ that he and the Headmaster were working on. 

“Albus, do you truly think it wise to leave this project in the hands of Potter? While you say you are guiding him in that regard, you also have obligations to the school and the Wizengamot. With the Dark Lord growing his ranks and the increase in attack on muggles and muggleborns, would it not be preferable to ‘get on with it’ and have others assist the boy on whatever mission you have him on?” Snape was looking pointedly at the Headmaster. Harry couldn’t argue with the man’s logic. The Horcruxes were still a mystery, especially after the last one had turned out fake. While he and Hermione had some suspicions they could only do so much as students. Harry turned to the other end of the table and was taken aback by the anger he could see in the Headmaster’s eyes. But the look melted away to be replaced by an empty smile. 

“Harry may share with whoever he wishes, but he has been strongly advised to work with those closest to him. After all, the information is sensitive and we no longer have the upper hand of having the right hand of Tom as our spy,” Dumbledore’s answer was clearly meant to remind Snape that he had lost some of his usefulness as well as the lack of trust most of the Order still had in him. The Headmaster tilted his head and smiled, “Speaking of spies. Though not as high ranking as you were, Severus, he has proven his worthiness by warning us of the removal of the Slytherin students. We can only hope he will not lose his standing, as others have, any time soon.”

The doors to the Great Hall opened only enough for a figure in a black hooded cloak to come into the room. The nod Dumbledore sent the figure’s way assuaged the immediate rise in tension brought upon by this mystery guest. Lucius Malfoy walked up to the table, next to Snape before dropping his hood and bowing slightly to the table. It seemed most of those in attendance either already knew or had suspected as much. 

“Lucius,” Snape greeted the blond man before conjuring a chair so that he may join him at the head of the table. 

“Severus,” Lucius nodded in reply, though he paused to take a good look at the former Death Eater. “Freedom has done you well, it seems. I could not have predicted how well.”

“Lucius, welcome. What news do you bring us?” Dumbledore continued the meeting. 

“Albus, wait, before we move on, ” The Scottish woman interrupted, “I must agree with Severus. Whatever mission you’ve entrusted with Mister Potter and by extension Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, can only be harrowing. Would it not be wiser to have someone else in the Order front the mission, or at least aid with anything they may need from outside the castle? You would entrust the most information to these young people who have only truly been allowed in the Order this year?”

“Oh, Albus please, you can’t just let them fight on their own? Who knows what you’ve got them doing? They are still only children,” Mrs. Weasley interjected, wringing her hands, “Maybe Charlie or Bill can assist them?”

“I’d be more than happy to lend a hand. I’m sure there are resources in the Auror Division that could help with whatever they are doing,” Tonks remarked. 

“What about it Harry? He said you could tell who you want about it to get some help. I’d be more than willing to help as would all of us,” Sirius smiled at Harry, looking sincere. 

While he wanted to tell everyone about the horcruxes he knew it had to be kept to a select few. Harry knew that it was his mission by default, as the Chosen One, but sharing the burden with only Ron and Hermione hadn’t helped them progress much. Harry glanced at Dumbledore who looked like he was going to speak only for a voice at the other end to sound instead. 

“No. I have to agree with the Headmaster. The delicate information should only be shared with as few people as necessary. If it can truly weaken You-Know-Who, the fewer people that can give that information away the better,” Hermione said, surprising Harry. 

“So far those few people include you, Potter, the youngest Weasley, and the Headmaster. We are to be made to believe that a group of students will be able to succeed?” Snape scoffed at Hermione, but she remained unfazed. 

“Thank you, Miss Granger. The mission is theirs to achieve, we will aid by making sure the road ahead is clear for them. That means Hogwarts must remain secure. I expect that if you are approached by Harry or his friends for assistance in the matter, you do your best to assist without asking questions unless absolutely necessary. This could turn the tides of war, or kill us all if Tom ever discovers our plans,” Dumbledore once more unsettled Harry. “Let us continue this meeting as scheduled.”

Dumbledore continued with more people reporting on their activities in various posts in the magical world. But Harry couldn’t keep his mind off of the charged interactions between the headmaster and Snape. The Potions Master had a point, the war was progressing rapidly and Harry needed all the help he could get. Snape had worked with dark magic before and might know a few tricks or at least have some useful knowledge about the inner workings of the dark wizard. For the rest of the meeting, Harry went through a mental list of everyone present and what they may or may not be able to contribute to their hunt for horcruxes. 

As such, Harry was deep in thought and didn’t hear the Headmaster adjourn the meeting. Order members were mingling amongst each other as they grazed the many dishes that had appeared. People were talking about the meeting and their personal lives. It had been a while since the entirety of the Order had come together and it seemed everyone was eager to catch up. This soft merriment was short-lived when the sound of his godfather burst forth in an angry response. 

“I knew you were a liar! You had no intention of breaking the bond, did you?” Sirius snarled at the Potions Professor who stood stoic and unbothered. Remus had a hold on Sirius’ arm to prevent his friend from casting a spell, or worse yet, throwing a punch. I swear, they keep saying they are adults and then they do this.

“I’m not surprised to find you were not paying any attention but Miss Granger herself explained to the entire room that we will work on the bond together,” Snape snapped, rolling his eyes. Harry found himself rolling his eyes along with his hated professor.

“Oh really? You’re just using that as an excuse to spend time with her. Trying to make her give in to the bond and let you have her? How long has it been since a witch looked your way? If one ever has,” Sirius mocked him, wearing a look of disgust. Has he ever stopped bullying Snape? Doesn’t he get tired of it?

“Sirius!” Remus barely held the shorter man back as he admonished him. 

“Professor, ignore him,” Hermione had a hold on Snape’s arm. The jealousy Harry had felt when he watched them walk into the hall hand in hand, burst forth rearing its ugly head. His pace quickened as he crossed the Hall towards the group. Don’t touch her, you great bat! 

“Hermione, get the hell away from him! You can’t seriously believe he has your best intentions at heart?” Sirius continued his rant, oblivious to anyone else in the room. The wild wizard looked aghast. “I didn’t think you could be that stupid.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and winced, Sirius had really done it now. Harry wished he could say he didn’t expect the following events but it went exactly as he would expect. Hermione slashed her wand through the air, immobilizing Sirius. Remus and Snape both stopped the girl from casting any other spells on the now-prone figure of Sirius. Hermione’s hair was sparking with her raging magic and anger. The kind of anger that would normally result in her throwing a punch. The fury in her voice was fierce, “Sirius Black you better watch your back! I’ll have a cage and a flea infestation ready for you!”

Remus freed Sirius but glared at him. Harry sidled up to the tense gathering, looking warily between the different members of the group. “Sirius, Remus, you should head back to Grimmauld Place. The Weasleys already left. Hermione and I will follow.” 

It looked as if his godfather might argue but another glare from Remus kept the man quiet. The werewolf turned to him and nodded, “We’ll see you both soon.”

Harry watched as Remus and Sirius took the floo back to the Noble House of Black. There were still other members of the Order mingling but the only person he wanted to talk to was Hermione. When he finally turned to her she was looking at the open doors of the Great Hall and Snape was nowhere in sight. He took a moment to look at her and take her in. Even raging she looked beautiful. How am I supposed to share you with him?

“Hermione,” Harry approached her slowly, putting a hand on her forearm. When she turned to him, he could already tell so much had changed. But she still smiled at him and pulled him into a firm hug. A wave of relief and the familiar comfort that Hermione gave him urged him to hold her closer and longer. But he felt her start to loosen her hold and reluctantly he let her pull back. “How are you, Hermione? We couldn’t find you after we finished out on the pitch.”

“I’m okay, Harry. There are some things I want to talk to you about but that can wait. I’m exhausted,” Her voice relayed her weariness quite plainly. 

“Of course, we have the rest of the holiday.” He brushed her hair out of her face, looking into her honey eyes. He nodded his head at the doors, “Is he okay? I know he and Sirius don’t get along but even I am kind of embarrassed about how he acted towards Snape.”

“It’s Professor Snape, Harry, he’ll be fine. He was a little frustrated with me for interfering, you men and your pride,” She smiled at him, but there was a darkness there that he recognized, darkness that had disappeared when her memory was lost.

“Hermione, did you remember something?” Harry asked, cautiously. 

Her eyes hardened, and her body tensed in his arms. There was a cold detachedness to her tone as she replied, “I found some things out but I still don’t have any memory of them. Ginny reminded me that I kept journals and they were…enlightening. I promise I’ll tell you more later. I really want to go to bed.”

“I can have Dobby bring your stuff to Grimmauld when he takes mine. Let’s go.” He took her hand and moved toward the fireplace. But she didn’t budge, which made him turn in confusion. “Hermione?”

“I want to stay,” She responded, “Not for the rest of the holiday, just one more night. I just need to sort out my thoughts and I need quiet for that. Grimmauld Place will be anything but quiet. You understand, don’t you?” 

Harry cupped her cheek, facing her fully again. Her shoulders were drooping and she seemed to be fighting to stay focused. He could only imagine what she was feeling; from the Order meeting and the charged moments therein. “Just let McGonagall and Snape know. They are the only ones staying in the castle tonight.” 

Hermione looked up at him, surprised. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughed, stealing a chaste kiss, “You’ve been through a lot, and you’re right about it not being quiet at Number 12. I’ll be back tomorrow to come get you?”

Hermione smiled up at him and nodded. She wrapped her arms around him, “That would be perfect. Thank you, Harry.”

Harry was surprised when Hermione cupped his face and kissed him. Her hands raked into his hair as her lips moved gently against his. A possessiveness came over him as he held her firmly against him, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. You’re mine, Hermione.

—------------------------

Hermione walked the quiet halls after stopping in the kitchens to ask one of the house elves to let Professor McGonagall know that she was staying another night. Once the Great Hall had emptied and Harry had kissed her before he floo’d to his godfather’s house, she felt guilty that she was relieved to see her friend leave.  She needed time. The kisses had been impulsive. A test to see how she would react to them now that she had another piece of the puzzle. She still liked kissing him. It still made her feel comfortable and loved, but there was still something off about it. 

So here she was taking time as she meandered through the dark halls, knowing that she was one of the very few people at the castle. There were no masks that she needed to wear and no reason for her to keep up the appearance of being strong and unmoved. Speaking in front of the Order had been Professor Snape’s idea, but the delivery had been nerve-wracking and overwhelming. Being close to the Potions Master had allowed their bond to stabilize her but she could feel the headmaster trying to worm his way into her head. 

Then of course there had been the outburst of magic. The protectiveness and possessiveness that had fueled the wandless and silent shield was like a tidal wave that compelled her to act.  How would the Professor feel if she told him that the weak hex Tonks had sent at him made the voice in her head scream: Mine!

The voice had surprised her and it also felt right. But the kiss with Harry had also felt right. Could it just be the bonds influencing me? The magic she used to protect the Professor was also a result of the bond. How much stronger can we get? Apart? Separate? Hermione tried not to think about her past self and all her plans, but after the earlier revelations, her previous inclinations to sacrifice herself made more sense. The thought of sacrifices reminded her of her parents.

The dark chasm of her grief at the loss of her parents almost made her stumble as she took the steep stairs up to the tower. There could have been some connection to her lost memories that led her up to the Astronomy Tower in the middle of the night, but she didn’t ponder that. Her mind was swinging between immense grief and unbridled anger. Grief for the girl she was before she had learned the hard truths of this new life. Anger at Dumbledore and herself over the fate of her parents. The peaceful days with Harry after she had woken up in the hospital wing seemed so distant now. 

Hermione walked slowly to the railing of the tower, a sense of deja vu came over her. She was numb to the cold around her, ignoring the breeze while she looked out at the white blanketed grounds of the school. The familiar view had brought her comfort throughout her years there. Something about the vastness of life, the beauty of the infinite world around her had pulled her from bouts of homesickness and loneliness. Now it would be witness to her anger. 

She cast a quick muffliato around the space and then allowed herself to scream. She screamed and cried and raged. Every word she had wanted to throw in Dumbledore’s face when she had walked into the Order meeting that day erupted from her lips. Hermione screamed at herself for not doing more, for not trying harder to protect her parents. She ranted and raved at her past self for choosing to do the rituals and bonds without telling anyone. Her voice was hoarse and her chest heaving once she had let out all the things she had been holding back. 

“I didn't peg you as someone with such a colorful vocabulary, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione shrieked at the sound of the Professor’s voice. Meeting his gaze across the room brought her a level of calm she had been hard-pressed to emulate since she stepped out onto the tower. She should have felt him coming, she probably did but was too caught up in herself. 

“My apologies, Miss Granger,” The dark man moved forward into the pale light of the moon, his outer robes gone and his frock coat unbuttoned, revealing black trousers, dragon hide boots, and a white button down. He must have stopped at the dungeons before coming here, he hadn’t been wearing a coat at the meeting. Had he already been resting? Did he feel the bond?

“It’s alright, Professor. I just didn’t think anyone would come up here,” She waved off his apology then gestured for him to join her at the railing. When he stepped up next to her, not touching but still close, warmth spread from him. He had cast warming charms for them without hesitation. It was only then that she realized it was snowing. Hermione found herself examining the Professor’s profile and noticed that his nose wasn’t crooked anymore like it had never been broken and set improperly. 

“Your eyes will burn holes into my face if you continue to stare, Granger,” His voice fell on her ears like velvet. She could admit to herself that she had always liked his voice and his hands. Yes she couldn’t forget about the hands. His long fingers and how he moved with such precision. So lost was she in her admiration of the man that she didn’t hear him speak again. 

“What?”

His brow rose with a hint of playful disdain but his stoic visage soon returned, “Why are you up here?”

“I just ended up here,” Hermione shrugged, she had been intending to go back to her rooms but her body had brought her here while she was clouded by her thoughts.  Feeling brave she moved closer to the Professor so their arms were touching from wrist to the top of her shoulder, both of them holding the railing. The liquid heat that came with any interaction with him slid over her. He didn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes were dead set on the view in front of them. Longing took over. Look at me.

He didn’t hear her silent plea but his rumbling voice filled the silence between them, “Do you remember this place at all? Besides from previous years here.”

The young woman was about to respond in the negative, but decided to close her eyes and see if  maybe the memory would surface. But no such memory came to her. She felt his hand close around hers on the railing, the bond coming to life with a feeling of blazing fire between them. Behind her eyes she remembered the sensation of falling and being surrounded by the fresh yet spicy scent of the man next to her. She gasped. “I…fell?”

Hermione turned her head and found her professor was angled toward her now, his hand still holding hers, but had pulled it away from the cold railing. His thumb rubbed soft circles into her skin. A sorrowful look appeared on his face. 

“Fell–intentionally. If I hadn’t found myself here that night we would have found you the next morning on the cobblestone below,” His voice was pained. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat. It was one thing to feel like the world would be better off without you, it was another thing to have attempted to turn that concept into reality.

“That’s why I was so willing to do the ritual for you, even if I died. I was already ready to die,” The revelation made her head spin.

“I saved you that night and that is where, I think, our story began. I was there in a moment when you needed someone most and you repaid me by performing the ritual. Although I would have preferred to have been asked about it before it was enacted, it was obviously a success,” he mused, his lip curled upward at the corner.

“Why did you save me?” He’s your professor, he’s supposed to save you.

“You are not the only person, nor will you be the last, to come to this tower seeking an end to your suffering. I had to pull myself off this ledge in my 7th year. That night I happened to be there to help you–to stop you–to save you.” He straightened his back and looked out over the grounds again, relinquishing his hold on her hand. Immediately she missed the feel of him. “You should not die in such a horrid way. You’re meant to go down in a blaze of glory as you help Potter defeat the Dark Lord; if you go down at all. I do intend to keep that from happening.”

Silence fell between them again when a thought popped into her head. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, wondering if it was appropriate to ask. But he was her bonded after all. “The notes I found earlier said that the ritual would work best if there was mutual regard within the pair. Does that mean that you see me…as…a woman?”

He shook his head and chuckled to himself, “That’s what you’re asking me? Not what happened afterward? Not if I told anyone? Just a complete pivot into a new topic.”

“None of that matters to me,” Hermione insisted, “I’m sure you were as gentlemanly as possible while making some sarcastic comment, then walked me to my rooms. Or maybe you even got me to talk to you about my reasons. We are long past all of that.”

“Hermione,” Her name sounded amazing when he said it. Warmth pooled in her lower belly again, urging her to touch him. “I cannot say that I have not regarded you in a way any man would when presented with a smart young woman. I have done my best to quell that realization ever since that night at Grimmauld Place.”  

Hermione scrunched her brows and remembered the night. It felt like only a couple weeks before but it was months and months ago. “The night I patched you up after you came back from a…meeting.”

“Yes. You were lucky, Hermione. I was still reeling in the darkness of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. My inhibitions were down and I was feeling bereft, unnoticed, uncared for. Then in you came, in your skimpy night clothes insisting on touching me,” he hissed and shook his head as if to shake away the memories themselves, “I might have ravished you then. But I didn’t and I never went back to Number 12. I reported directly to the Headmaster just to make sure I wouldn’t be needed by the Order. I am many things, but I have never touched a student.” 

“You avoided me?”

“You are far more tempting than you give yourself credit for. But yes I avoided you. A part of me couldn’t see you as my student any longer. Then you were here, on this railing, and then in my office telling me why you even considered jumping, and I regretted not seeing you the rest of the holiday. Then I watched you for weeks afterward as you went about your life while no one but me knew of your suffering. Somewhere between all of that, I recognized that I cared for you. Greatly.” The Potions Master looked at her and she could see the sincerity there. “And by some strange stroke of luck, you must have held some ardor for me as well. Merlin knows why.”

Hermione lifted her hand to cup his cheek. If he hadn’t cast the warming charms, it would have been cold to touch. The bond between them flared again, compelling her to step closer to him. “Can you feel it? The way it sings when we are touching?”

He pressed his cheek to her palm and turned fully to face her. They still kept a few inches between them, “Yes. It is…content. The bond is fulfilled when we spend time together.”

“You suffer if we go too long away from each other,” She stated. “Should I spend my holiday here with you?” 

“I will not ask you to stay in this empty castle with me when you will be much safer at headquarters,” He gripped her bicep with one hand, reassuringly, “After the hours we have spent together today I should be able to hold out until the start of term.” 

“How can you be sure?” Hermione pushed, she hated the idea of him suffering when she could assuage the pain. 

“Proximity alone would not have been enough, but we have touched, I have been in your mind. It should be enough, but even if it isn’t. I will be fine.” Snape gently removed her hand from his cheek, “Let me escort you back to your rooms.”

Before he could step away, Hermione pressed up close to him, stumbling slightly. His hands found her waist instinctively to keep her steady. She spoke breathlessly from his touch,  “More touch means the bond will be happier longer.”

“Hypothetically,” Snape responded, his tone curious and hesitant.

“Then let me touch you,” Hermione replied boldly. Excitement spread across her skin as she stood on her toes, raked her hands into his hair, and kissed him hard before he could protest. Her eager force caused him to take a step backward, he groaned into the kiss when his back hit the pillar behind him. 

His hands found her shoulders and pressed on them softly, a feeble attempt to stop the amorous act, to no avail. She could feel him resisting for a moment longer. Rigid fingers on her shoulders that slowly loosened. Severus Snape gave in to her aggressive lips, one hand threaded through her hair, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. His other arm wrapped around her waist as he turned them so he was now pinning her to the pillar. 

Hermione smiled into his lips, nipping at him and savoring his taste. How can he kiss like this? The ex-spy was pressed into her so that she could not only feel his firm chest and strong arm but also the growing bulge below his waist. The prospect of causing such a reaction from the normally stoic man excited her. She moaned softly into the kiss, “Severus.”

The feral groan he released at the sound of his name went straight to her core. She wanted him–needed him. His lips found her jaw, then her neck. His tongue lapped at her pulse point before nibbling softly. Severus enclosed her in his presence as he peppered her skin with kisses. Hermione keened, a sound she had never heard herself make before. Her hips thrust forward, rubbing against the prominent tent of his pants. She scraped her nails down the front of his shirt as he brought his lips to hers again. 

Playfully, she nipped his lower lip, then teased his tongue with hers. She gasped when his hand moved up to her chest, palming one of her breasts. His thumb swept across her hardened nipple, how he could tell where it was through the shirt was beyond her. Hermione knew that she was a wet mess between her legs. Her hunger for him grew as her hand slid down his torso. She began working to undo his belt when his hands seized her wrists and pinned them to the stone pillar above her head. 

The dark man pulled his lips away from hers, tipping his forehead down to meet her own. Hermione tried to twist from his grip and mewled in protest. The needy sounds she was making would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t so overcome with a carnal need. They were both panting as the Professor stepped back, relinquishing his hold on her while putting space between them. They stood in silence, not meeting each other in the eye as they came down from their intimate high. 

“That should last until the start of term, maybe even longer,” Hermione quipped, feeling accomplished despite desperately wanting to continue what they had started. 

The deep incredulous chuckle of the Professor was a welcome sound. He straightened himself before replying, “Astute conclusion, Miss Granger. Now I think it would benefit us both to get some rest. I will escort you back to your rooms.”

“It’s only us in the castle right?” She asked, hesitating, which made the Professor raise an eyebrow. 

“Minerva is no doubt already in deep sleep, but other than that, yes we are the only ones in the castle,” He replied. The Professor took cautious steps towards her as if he were afraid she would pull him into another sensual embrace.

“I don’t want to be alone if we are the only ones here,” Hermione declared. 

“Technically, you are not alone if there are two others in the castle, Miss Granger,” He smirked at her. He placed his hand on her lower back and gestured for her to lead the way back to her dorms. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Hermione scrunched her nose at him. 

“And what exactly did you mean, Miss Granger?” Severus spoke softly in her ear, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. His breath danced across her skin and she wondered how it would feel in other sensitive areas.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” The question stopped the Professor in his tracks. “I promise I won’t ravish you! I’ll even sleep on the sofa. I just would rather be near each other than on completely opposite sides of a sizable castle. Don’t you agree? Plus the extra proximity would help, right?”

The pleading look on her face seemed to have an effect on the dark man, “Fine, but you will sleep in my room and I will sleep on the sofa.”

“We can always share the bed,” Hermione teased. 

“You are playing with fiendfyre, Miss Granger,” He warned her.

“What if I like fire, Professor?” Hermione took his hand and laced their fingers together, daringly, but he did not pull away. 

“Gryffindors, always the pyromaniacs,” The Professor grumbled. 

“I did set your robes on fire in first year, after all,” Hermione grinned, relishing in the almost normal nature of walking hand-in-hand with Severus Snape as they made their way down to the dungeons. 

Professor Snape paused in his stride, then shook his head in amusement, “Of course that was you.”

Hermione was fully immersed in this unbelievable scene. The soft chuckles, the teasing, and the warm heat of the bond surrounding them like a shield. I don’t think I would mind if the bond was never broken. I could live with him if it were always like this. 

Chapter Text

Severus couldn’t sleep. The sofa in his living room was comfortable enough, the fire was warm and he was exhausted. But the bond was throbbing around him. She was tucked in his bed, so close, and yet he refused to go to her. They had already done more than enough to assuage the negative effects of the bond earlier at the Astronomy Tower. His face grew hot at the memory of her skin, the taste of her lips, and the feel of her body flush against his. Yes, blush now while there is no one around to witness your fall from grace into a bumbling lovesick fool. He could almost picture his younger self saying those words to him.

It was the bond that told him to go up to that tall peak despite having been in his rooms for an hour or so after the Order meeting. He had panicked for a moment realizing she was there, flashing back to that fateful night at the start of term. But thankfully, she was nowhere near that previous mindset. Her raging by herself would have been amusing if he didn’t hold the same frustrations she did. It had become even more obvious that Dumbledore was playing the role of manipulative mastermind too well. 

Severus rubbed his face and berated himself as the memory of her soft moans and breathy sighs pushed his thoughts away from the war. You’re taking it too far, old man. What of it if she harbored some crush on you before? Do you really think the Gryffindor Princess would have allowed you to ravish her on that parapet without the bond coercing her? Fool. 

 Sighing, he sat up, threw his robe around his shoulders, and went to pour himself a glass of fire whiskey.  He stared into the fire that burned low comparing its warmth to that of their bond. What makes you think that your bond will outweigh the other? 

A frown marred his face as he remembered what Narcissa had told him that awful night he had been brought to his knees by the unfulfilled bond. The night that made him truly believe that Dumbledore, in all his righteousness, was flying too close to the sun.

“Ribbons Severus!” Narcissa had muttered frantically the moment the students had left his rooms. “Ribbons!”

She was flipping through the pile of books already knowing what she was looking for and once she found it she flipped the open book around showing him a passage titled ‘Vittas Vitae’. “I had a feeling but I wasn’t sure until she described how it looked to her. The way the bond felt was something I felt before, from my great-grandfather. Severus, it's a soul tie. A Master’s soul tie.” 

“What exactly does that mean, Narcissa?” The Potions Master felt uneasy seeing the normally refined woman pacing and muttering to herself. “I know the nature of alchemy. It is rarely used and only in the most specific and powerful of rituals and potions. I recognize the name of the ritual from the Ministry's list of banned practices.”

“Severus, what is the core principle of Alchemy?” Narcissa stopped her pacing and turned to him. 

“Equivalent Exchange…But Narcissa, not everyone can perform alchemy. There hasn’t been a recorded alchemist in over a hundred years,” Severus replied cautiously. 

“The key here is ‘recorded.’ Alchemy fell out of favor and use because of the high toll it can take on a caster. Too many attempts to use it in ways nature, the very magic itself, rejected. But the trait, the skill to use alchemy is still present but latent. When was the last time you even thought of alchemy?” She paced the room. 

He thought long and hard, “My apprenticeship.”

“But never again, right?” He nodded in response, “One can only become aware of their ability to perform alchemy if they can attempt to practice it. Whether by accident or by trial, Miss Granger found out that she is an alchemist.”

“But what is a soul tie? Why was this one banned? There are a plethora of soulbonds that exist today without any issue. What is so different about this?” Severus was trying to reconcile this information with what they already knew.

“Soulbonds formed by magic, by traditional magic, have a level of mutual connection. There has to be willingness within the pair bonding even if it is just one of them! But alchemic soul ties? They don’t need awareness or consent and can be applied by force, that was often the case. They may not even be aware of a soul tie unless they know to look for it. But this one, ‘Vittas vitae’ is a slave bond. It was used centuries ago to make masters of estates practically immortal by tying the lives of their servants to theirs. There is no distinction in alchemy between light and dark but this was a practice passed around verbally until centuries later because so many opposed it.”

“What is the exchange, Narcissa? What is being asked of her?” Severus paled, hands clenched around the book. 

“The exchange is already there. Vittas Vitae, Ribbons of Life, similar to your bond with the girl is meant to save a life in peril, but there is not a single chance of survival for the ‘slave’ involved. Miss Granger has forfeited her soul,” Narcissa sat heavily on the sofa, burying her face in her hands. 

Severus felt his heart grow cold. “Narcissa, how can she be bound to me if that is true?”

“An alchemic bond can exist even if the body of the forfeited soul dies. Her soul is already condemned, awaiting the moment when it can be offered to God or Fate when the boy ultimately meets death. But your soulbond does not exist past the living plain. You are bound ‘til death, here in the land of the living. Your bonds exist for different purposes. Think of it as two different aspects of a soul. The literal and the transcendent. The literal is the magical connection between body, mind, and heart. It is the essence of humanity. The transcendent is the soul as a concept outside of its context. It is as good as currency to the practice of alchemy,” Narcissa looked sorrowful as she continued, “Whether she performed Vittas Vitae on herself and Harry or if it was someone else, it doesn’t matter. Her life and afterlife are no longer her own, and it was concealed with dark magic so that it can not be removed.”

“So you’re saying that the bond, our bond, exists within a different realm than the bond between her and Potter? Who can remove it?” 

“Only the caster can.”

The Potions Master could not deny the sickening feeling that told him Dumbledore may have been behind the horrible bond between Potter and Hermione. He had been witness to the callous determination of the Headmaster. But looking back on the information he had learned today from Hermione’s mind, he feared there may be no other option to win the war. Why it had to be her soul that was forfeited to give them a chance to win against evil was not so easily answered. This entire war was a convoluted mess of oaths and promises that were betrayed or unfulfilled. All this old, dark magic, had been festering for decades and now the present day reeked with it.

He closed his eyes and recalled what he saw in the young woman’s mind. 

Severus gaped at the book that sat on the desk in the middle of Hermione’s mind library. He wanted to wretch, he wanted to scream, he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. “That is the mission he has for Potter? To hunt down a horcrux?”

Hermione stepped forward and nodded.

“He truly believes that the boy can destroy a horcrux?” Severus let his disbelief seep into his voice.

“We know of two that have already been destroyed. We actually know more about destroying them than finding them,” The girl spoke softly as she opened the book. 

“Two? There are more than just– how many Hermione?”  Severus floundered. It was unimaginable to think of cutting your soul in half let alone more than that. The rent in his soul was bad enough, the bond filling the empty chasm was the only reason he rarely gave it any thought. 

“There was the diary from second year, the ring that turned Dumbledore’s hand last year as well. There is a locket that used to belong to Salazar Slytherin that we are having trouble locating. We suspect, with Tom’s obsession with Hogwarts, he chose a relic from all four houses. So there’s 2 more,” She hesitated. He knew there was more and waited patiently, absorbing the news. “Harry and I believe that there is also a fragment of Tom inside of Harry.” 

No. It cannot be. His thoughts were jumbled, racing about his head. But his nightmares, the way he knew about the Department of Mysteries in his fifth year. The way Voldemort had attempted to possess Harry. The parseltongue. The nightmares and the pain in his scar. He felt like he may weep or scream, “Harry Potter has to die…”

The young woman guided him to sit in one of the armchairs, holding his hand in support. “I think that’s why I even considered the ritual. To give Harry a chance to survive when the last horcrux needs to be destroyed. Harry told me he refused.” 

“I have been protecting him only for him to be slaughtered!” Severus wailed, “This is what that old man has been hiding from the Order?”

His magic lashed out but her hand on his arm was steadfast. Severus took a deep breath, centering himself before he continued. “Has Dumbledore even given you any guidance to find these relics?

The look on Hermione’s face told him all he needed to know.

He sighed heavily. The Order meeting had only made him more suspicious of the Headmaster. The harshness of his tone, the glee at the chaos. It was as if he wasn’t hiding it anymore, or maybe Severus just wasn’t giving him the benefit of doubt any longer. The rest of the meeting had gone as he suspected it would, even down to accusations from Black. 

He continued ruminating, his eyes staring sightlessly into the embers of the heath. But his dim view was blocked by a mass. Severus pulled back to find Hermione standing in front of him wearing a large t-shirt and garish teal sleep pants, her hair fluffy and disheveled. She yawned cutely. Severus swallowed. It was a mistake to let her stay here. 

“I can feel you worrying over the bond,” She groaned sleepily. 

“My apologies, Miss Granger. I was remiss about reinstating my occlusion,” He replied, still looking the young woman up and down. Even in the oversized clothing, he could see her gentle curves. Those very curves were soon cuddled into his side with the girl pulling one of his arms around her shoulders. 

“Go to sleep,” She yawned again, nuzzling into him. 

“Miss Granger,” He didn’t move, startled by her sudden affection. 

“Severus,” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “You need to relax. You’re very tense.”

“You should go back to bed,” Severus urged her, sitting up so that she could no longer slouch against him. 

“How can I when your feelings are so loud?” She whined. If it had been anyone else he would have scolded her, sent a sharp barbed insult at her. Instead he brushed her hair out of her face and lifted her into his arms. 

“Severus!” Hermione squealed. Her surprise made her jerk around and he nearly dropped her. 

“Hermione, cease your flailing unless you wish to greet the dungeon floor!” Severus’s tone would allow no refusal. She went limp in his arms, gripping his shoulders and burying her face against his neck. Now that he no longer feared dropping her he strode to his bedroom. Her scent surrounded him and the bond seemed to pulse around them.  He made quick work of tucking her back into his four-post bed. She looked delicate beneath the plush gray duvet. 

As he moved away she caught his hand, “Can’t you just stay? Your mind goes quiet when we are close to each other.”

Hermione looked at him with such imploring eyes, pouting the slightest bit, and still disheveled. He should have refused her. He should have reminded her that he was her teacher and an old letch who should be bound to the sofa for having inappropriate thoughts about her. Instead, he nodded. Severus kept his robe on and insisted on sleeping on top of the duvet, to the witch’s displeasure. “Sleep, Hermione.” 

The Potions Master laid flat on his back, hyper aware that she had moved as close to him as she could with the covers and duvet separating them. He felt her shift then her soft lips were on his cheek. Severus knew he was an unseemly shade of red as he felt her settle in next to him.

“Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

—-----------------------------------

When Hermione woke it was to the sensation of being watched. She opened her eyes and was greeted by the obsidian pools of her bonded partner. The way the bond engulfed them in comforting warmth made her wish she could stay there with him and ignore the war. 

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, “Good morning.”

The rumble of his morning voice sent a zing of arousal to her core. She smiled softly at him, “Good morning. What time is it?”

“Just half past 8. Potter will be coming to retrieve you in a couple of hours,” He replied, his voice less content but not angry. 

“I should get up then, shouldn’t I,” Hermione snuggled in closer and wished, not for the first time, that he hadn’t insisted on sleeping above the covers rather than beneath them with her. 

“We both should. Narcissa will be returning soon and I must allow her onto the grounds,” Severus sat up and stretched his neck back and forth. She giggled at the sight of the hair on the back of his head sticking up. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re one to giggle over what I look like rolling out of bed. Your hair has somehow doubled in volume since we went to bed last night.”

The way he spoke of how ‘they’ had gone to bed the night before made Hermione blush. She sat up and nervously patted at her hair. Embarrassingly her hand caught in a knot.

“Here, let me,” Severus said, reaching both his hands past her temples, sliding his fingers gently through her curls, shaking them out, and undoing any tangles. If Hermione were a cat she would be purring. She tilted her head up, exposing her neck, and leaned into his touch, humming in approval.

“You are determined to fracture my self-control, witch,” His voice was low and when Hermione met his eyes she could see the desire burning in them. She kept her eyes locked on him as he brushed through her hair a couple more times before pulling away and standing. “I will open the floo so you can return to your rooms. I assume Potter will be coming through the Great Hall?”

Hermione nodded as Severus left the room. She allowed herself to sit a moment longer, inhaling the clean and spicy scent of him. It seemed to all be happening so fast since she found her journals and learned the fate of her parents. If it was so easy to grow closer to the Professor now, she wondered if it was any different before she lost her memories. 

Still ruminating she disappeared into the bathroom to wash her face and the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Although the night had been late and the previous day trying, she looked well rested. He met her as she left the bathroom, informing her that the floo was ready whenever she was and he had disappeared to handle his morning ablutions. 

To say that Hermione wasn’t a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked her to stay would be untrue. She knew that he was right when he said that Grimmauld would be safer for her. She gathered some things to take with her to Number 12 and spied her journals, still scattered where she had left them. Gingerly, Hermione knelt and retrieved the journals. Making a decision, the young woman took the relevant journal that had her research on the rituals and bonds, along with the books she had found in her extendable purse. Hopefully, Severus would be able to glean some information that would help them figure out how to rid someone of the Dark Mark. 

He’s supposed to be finding a way to break the bond. She scolded herself but she knew, things had changed, and breaking the bond was no longer her priority. Don’t forget that you are also bound to Harry, the Chosen One, the one who will defeat the Dark Lord, whom you have always loved in some capacity for the last 6 years.  

With her head whirring with the new developments from the last 36 hours, she made her way to the Great Hall to meet with Harry. When she came down the grand staircase the front doors of the castle opened to admit the Malfoy matriarch and the cloaked Potion’s Master. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy,” Hermione greeted the older woman with a smile. 

“You’re still here Hermione? I had thought you left with the others yesterday.” Hermione admired the elegant way the woman carried herself, looking unbothered by the cold and wind from outside. 

“I’m leaving in a bit actually. Harry is coming to get me. I just needed some time to process everything, with all the Weasleys there, silence will be scarce,” She noted how Mrs. Malfoy and Severus glanced at each other at the mention of Harry. “Oh, before I forget, here.”

Hermione pulled book after book out of her bag and thrust them into Severus’s arms. Then finally flopped her journal on top. Before the books could weigh him down, the Professor made them levitate next to him. 

“Sev-Professor Snape told me that you were helping him research the ritual and the bonds. These are the books I found in my bag that I don’t recognize and the last journal I kept. There are a ton of notes and some arithmancy I had done when figuring out my modifications. I may not remember anything but at least I wrote some things down. I’m hoping we can figure out how to free Draco of the mark as soon as possible,” Hermione explained. 

Mrs. Malfoy smiled at her softly, then laid her hand on her shoulder, “Thank you for thinking of Draco and for welcoming him as your friend despite your history. You are the friend he truly needed.”

Hermione couldn’t help but blush at the praise, “Draco is not so bad now that he isn’t being a git.”

She squeaked and covered her mouth with both hands, not believing her audacity. But the older woman chuckled softly, “He gets it from his father.” 

A snort from next to them didn’t match the unbothered expression of the Slytherin Head of House when they both turned at the noise. He cleared his throat, “There is still some time for breakfast before you leave, Miss Granger.”

With that the trio entered the Great Hall where only one table was set. Once they were seated the table filled with all manner of breakfast foods, tea, and coffee. The three ate leisurely as they discussed the journals.  

“I haven’t had a chance to read any of the books or much of the notes I took,” Hermione said around her cup of tea. 

“Don’t worry, Hermione. Severus and I will be staying in the castle for the holiday and will have more than enough time to go through everything. Once you come back we can consolidate our research and move from there,” Mrs. Malfoy patted the corners of her mouth with a napkin and sent her a winning smile. 

“Draco is at Grimmauld for the holiday as well. Won’t you come to visit for Christmas at least? I hate the idea of you spending it by yourselves,” She said to both of them but her eyes were on her professor. Severus, you’ll come, won’t you?

“I will drag him over there myself, Hermione,” The blonde woman said as if reading the younger woman’s mind. “I won’t be spending Christmas away from my son and with so many Gryffindors about, Slytherin must make an appearance at the festivities.”

Hermione looked over at the dour professor whose gaze softened as he nodded once in acquiescence. At that moment one of the fireplaces burst alight with the tell-tale green flames of the Floo Network. Hermione stood and nodded at the two Slytherins. “Have a good holiday, Professor. Mrs. Malfoy.” 

Harry had cleared the soot from himself and smiled brightly as she came up to him. Before Hermione could so much as greet him Harry pulled her in at the waist and kissed her firmly. The bond she shared with him seemed to awaken under her skin. When they parted she was flushed with embarrassment. “Harry!”

“Sorry, Hermione. I just missed you is all,” Harry smiled at her lovingly and she sank into the familiarity of it. They both turned and upon seeing the ex-spy the other bond flared up in response. The two bonds seemed to be moving within her, evenly matched and consuming. Harry waved at the pair at the table as he pulled her into his side, possessively. She couldn’t feel Severus’s emotions and suspected he was occluding, but the look in his eyes told her he was burning with jealousy. Harry addressed the only others in the vast room, “We’ll be off then. Mrs. Malfoy. Professor.”

Hermione could only smile sheepishly at them and move with her friend into the hearth, stumbling together into the living room of Grimmauld place. Once they had their footing she smacked Harry’s arm with her purse, “Harry! Must you always do that in front of an audience?”

Harry laughed but put his hands up in surrender, “I can’t help it Hermione, I just missed you.”

She remembered his confession and suddenly felt guilty. “I know, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“I know you’ve already had breakfast but everyone else in the kitchen. I told them not to interrogate you but you should know they want to ask some questions. They had been ready to do it last night and were pretty disappointed when you stayed at the castle.” Harry ran his hand through his perpetually messy dark hair. 

“I’m going to drop my stuff off in a room upstairs and then I’ll be down,” Hermione assured him before making her way up to the room she always shared with Ginny. She could already tell that the other girl had made herself comfortable. Alone again, Hermione heaved a great sigh. She looked down at her hands and could still feel her bond with Harry thrumming beneath her skin. 

It occurred to her, after spending nearly a whole day with Severus, that the bond they shared was overwhelmingly positive. It was comforting and peaceful. The more time they had spent together the more she trusted the bond. It didn’t feel like coercion. It felt like a slight push of encouragement down a path they were already taking. 

But this bond with Harry only felt like his magic because it was wrapped around him. The bond however, was cold, and cloying. It felt like shackles on her wrists. Her love and care for Harry was real but this bond had nothing to do with love. 

Chapter Text

Over a week into his stay at Grimmauld Place, Draco felt like he had finally been accepted. While the main Golden Trio had begrudgingly befriended him after his return to school, the other Weasleys had been reticent. Having Ginny on his side ready to berate her older brothers had been a boon he had not appreciated until the twins had taken it upon themselves to use him as a guinea pig for their new joke products. But the turning of the tides occurred Christmas Eve as the Order gathered around for a meeting.

Just as the Order meeting adjourned, the summoning tore through Draco. 

His mark burned like white-hot fire and only increased as he ignored the summons. There in the Grimmauld Place kitchen, with the Order as the audience, he dropped to his knees clutching his Dark Mark. His godfather had appeared at his side in moments, forcing potions down his throat while his mother brushed his hair out of his face and urged him to lay back. It went on for 10 long arduous minutes as he writhed in pain, jerked, and cried out. Then it was over. 

“Does that happen every time?” The hesitant voice of Ronald Weasley spoke somewhere to his left. 

“Resisting the summoning of the Dark Lord is not an easy task, Mister Weasley. He only manages the pain with the potion I created,” The rumbling voice of his godfather replied somewhere above him. 

“Give ‘em space, Ron. Professor, we should take him up to his room,” Ginevra’s voice said quietly. He would have made a suggestive comment about her being in his rooms just to rile her up if he had the strength. Draco felt the familiar weightlessness of levitation as he drifted into unconsciousness.

The rest of that night was surprising. He had awoken a couple of hours later to the doting of not only his mother but of Molly Weasley and Professor McGonagall. It took his godfather barging into the room and reminding the other woman that he was fine and would be back downstairs momentarily to get them to leave. 

“I don’t think the Gryffindors appreciated my theatrics,” Draco grimaced as he sat up in his bed and put his feet on the ground. 

“Do not downplay your pain, Draco. Few people have ever declined a summons and even less could imagine the type of suffering it brings,” Snape responded, eyeing him. “How are you feeling? He will try to summon you again so I expect you to take that potion every 3 hours. It should make the pain more bearable.” 

“Is it bad that I’m kind of getting used to it?” Draco winced, hating how pathetic he sounded. 

“Sad. It is sad that you are used to it. The youth should never have been dragged into this war,” When he looked up he saw a troubled look on his godfather’s face. 

“I don’t want to go back downstairs,” Draco looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed. 

His godfather sighed and then sat down next to him, “Draco, there is nothing to be ashamed of. You were forced into taking the mark and you're handling the consequences.”

“I don’t want their pity,” He looked down at the ground with his brow furrowed.

“While I understand the sentiment, I think you’ve actually gained their trust and even their admiration,” He sounded amused. Draco was reminded once again that his surly godfather had loosened up since the whole ritual situation. They sat silently for a while. He knew that his godfather was waiting until he was ready to go downstairs. Looking down at the mark again, he glanced over to Snape’s bare forearm. Ever since the news of the ritual was shared and what it had done, Draco found that his godfather would spend most of his time without the overbearing layers. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to do it? Remove the mark?” He asked tentatively.

Snape turned to him and nodded, “Hermione gave us her journals, and your mother and I have been able to piece some things together. I’m confident we can do this. Whether it’s before this war ends is the true mystery.”

Draco considered his reply. His mother along with Snape and Hermione were the most brilliant people he had met. You truly couldn’t ask for a more capable team to try and ‘cure’ him of the evil tattoo. Finally, he stood, squaring his shoulders, and prepared to meet whatever waited for him downstairs. As they took the steep stairs down, Draco let the ease of being surrounded by safety melt away his tension. 

“Godfather, if Hermione ends up being the one who takes my mark away, I have to warn you and Potter, that bonded or not, I will challenge you both for her hand,” Draco smirked at the Potions Master who raised a brow. He confidently strode down the stairs while conversing with the older man. 

“What makes you think Hermione would even consider you?” Snape sneered, though his eyes and voice remained amused.

Draco stopped on the final landing and turned confidently to the older man, “Well she let me in on a little secret. Before we were friends and before she knew any better, little Miss Granger was lost in Diagon Alley, and who should she bump into but a daringly handsome blond man? She said, and I quote, ‘he was so handsome I thought I met a fae from muggle fairy tales.’”

Snape scoffed, “Am I truly to believe that Miss Granger had a crush on you when you were eleven and happened upon each other in the busiest shopping area of wizarding England?”

“Of course not, though I do think Hermione and I could have an exceedingly entertaining ‘enemies to lovers’ arc.” Draco took a step down, and turned to look over his shoulder at his godfather, “Hermione was talking about my father, and as we both know, I take after my father. You think she’ll be happy to finally get her fae prince?”

Draco ran down the last few steps, just as Snape sent a hex at him. Promptly tripping on the carpet, he ended up sprawled across the woman of the moment. 

“Draco, what the hell?” Hermione groaned. Before Draco could move, let alone apologize, Snape grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him off the Gryffindor girl and straight into the hallway wall. 

“Hermione, are you alright?” Snape asked, not even attempting to hide his concern. It seemed she noticed how he had bodily thrown Draco and proceeded to smack the professor’s arm in response. 

“Professor Snape! Why did you do that? He barely got out of bed,” She sniped at the older man who simply shrugged. The curly-haired harridan was helped up and came to Draco’s side. 

“Draco, are you alright? We’ve been worried. Your mum was sending me to come get you,” She grabbed him by his arms and scrutinized him. 

“I’m fine, Hermione. Just having a little bonding time with my Uncle,” He winked at the older man who scowled at him. 

“How many times must I tell you not to call me Uncle?” Snape narrowed his eyes on him.

“It’s more fun watching you squirm over the idea of sharing blood with my father. Though after what I just told you, maybe you’ll wish you’d been born with our blond hair and dashing good looks,” Draco smiled when he saw the tell-tale twitch of the ex-spy’s wand hand. 

Saved by the Gryffindor, Hermione pulled him by the arm back into the kitchen where the remaining members of the Order were seated. As soon as he entered the room he was flanked by the trouble-making twins who started asking him what a Slytherin would like for pranks that fit their ‘refined’ taste. It wasn’t long before their Mother came up to him offering tea and snacks. 

Draco was overwhelmed as he was welcomed not with pity but respect. He turned to his godfather but found that the man was gone. A glance around told him that Hermione was with him. 

—----------------

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Severus asked Hermione as she closed the library door behind them, the usual wards and silencing spells were cast.

“I’m perfectly alright, Professor. I’ve been bowled over by a teenage boy more often than you would think,” Hermione sat on the sofa in the middle of the library. In front of it were piles of books. At a closer look, he could identify a few history books, bond lore, and one about maledictus which piqued his curiosity. 

“How have you been, Professor? I know it’s only been a week, but I figured some time together would keep the bond from flaring up,” She spoke as she flipped through some notes. The girl was dressed in comfortable muggle clothes with her hair in a twist kept in place with a simple ballpoint pen. A fondness washed over him at the ease and familiarity she exuded. She was so comfortable in his presence and that was a feeling he rarely encountered. 

“The bond has been quiet. But I suspect my presence here tonight and tomorrow will suffice until term starts again,” He took a tentative seat on an armchair across from her, missing the look of disappointment as he picked at the lint on his trousers. Are you nervous? What are you, a prepubescent third-year? Get a hold of yourself, it's just Hermione.

The young woman wasn’t ‘just’ anything as far as he was concerned. He, as well as Narcissa, had not only been impressed by her notes and journals but also at times completely baffled by the depth of her understanding of arithmancy and incantation creation. If he were honest, the fervent notes had reminded him of his school textbooks riddled with his scribbles and ideas. 

“How is the research going? I have a copy of the journals as well and have only been able to look at them sparingly. Everyone has seen fit to pull me out of the library if I spend more than an hour in here at a time,” She huffed and crinkled her nose. 

“Narcissa has been working on putting together the original ritual. I’ve managed to isolate the part that devours dark magic. It’s impressive but incredibly convoluted. I think once term starts and you have a chance to look at what we’ve managed to scrounge together, you’ll be able to parse it out. You’ve done it once so you’ll be able to do it again,” Severus responded, thinking over the hours spent with Narcissa references and cross-referencing various texts. There had been some leaps in logic in her research that neither could grasp that left the Potions Master wondering if the young woman in front of him had done half of the devising mentally and forgot to take notes. 

“I’ve been talking to Harry- don’t make that face- we’ve been talking and think it would be a good idea to let Draco and Mrs. Malfoy in on the horcrux hunt,” Hermione crossed her arms and tilted her head, waiting for his response.

“Your reasoning?”

“Out of all of us who know about the relics, only you and Mrs. Malfoy aren’t students. But you also cannot move about freely to search for the relics because of the target on you. Draco and Mrs. Malfoy have more connections outside of the castle for any other research we need or to physically look for and retrieve the relics. We can only trust so many people. You, Draco, and Mrs. Malfoy all know occlumency so I don’t think Professor Dumbledore would ever find out. He would expect Harry to have told the rest of us,” Hermione replied succinctly. 

“You do have a point. Especially in terms of having contacts outside of Albus’s sphere of influence at the castle. Slytherin’s are also less likely to ask questions if someone calls in a favor. The rest of the Order would want reasons given to them before they would make a move,” He was mildly impressed that the group of youths had reached these conclusions before he did. “Draco and Narcissa may know some things we do not due to sharing their manor with the Dark Lord.”

Hermione visibly shivered at the prospect of the Dark Lord invading her living space, “Then it’s settled. Tonight, after everyone is off to bed we will catch everyone up.”

“The sooner the better,” Severus agreed. The silence then stretched between them, the only noise was the crackling of the fire. He felt the bond warming him and urging him to go to her side. While he hadn’t lied to her that the bond was bearable the past week, now that he was within reach of her and had been for hours because of the Order meeting, he was itching to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. The most recent night at the astronomy tower flashed in his mind.  You’re better than this. You’ve already taken enough from her, too much. His thoughts were interrupted by the very object of his affection. 

“Severus,” She said tentatively, “I know tomorrow is Christmas and it will be busy all day so I wanted to do this now.” 

The ex-spy took a moment to process what she said and blinked in surprise when she made her way to the armchair. He eyed her smiling face and still felt awe that such a look of genuine affection could be directed at him. She gestured for him to put a hand out and then with a wave of her hand a small square box with black and green wrapping paper appeared in his palm. 

“You’ve been practicing your wandless and silent magic,” He observed neutrally. Internally the bond was singing as she stood less than a foot from him, his knees nearly touching her legs. Severus was hesitant as he turned the gift round and round, examining it.

“It’s not going to bite!” The young woman huffed, a blush blossoming on her cheeks, “I just wanted to give you a Christmas gift.”

“I-um…thank you, Hermione,” Severus responded lamely. I didn’t get her anything…was I supposed to get her something? What am I thinking? It's not like she’s my wife. She is your bonded. Does a bond imply gift exchanges? Is she expecting something back? He coughed to cover his hesitance, “I was remiss in bringing your gift. I had not thought I would stay after the meeting and planned on it being delivered to you tomorrow morning with whatever other gifts you will receive.” 

Her eyes lit up at the prospect of a gift from him. You could have just not said anything. You aren’t obligated to get her anything anyway. I can make her something tonight. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Severus. I just figured since you’re here it was easier for me to give it to you now. You can open it,” She encouraged, taking a seat on the arm of the chair he still occupied. Her warm body and sweet smell were already stirring certain extremities. 

Severus turned his attention away from the smiling woman and unwrapped the gift. It revealed a plain box and inside was a plain black ring, polished to an almost mirror finish. He raised a brow, amused, “Forward of you to propose, Miss Granger.”

Although blushing furiously the Gryffindor shoved him with her shoulder, “Oh hush, you. It’s a way for me to know or for you to know when we are starting to feel the negative effects of the bond. While I had intended for the transference of our magical cores to be one-sided in your favor, it seems that we are both affected. The other issue we have experienced has been you receiving the brunt of the negative reaction. I can’t tell when you need me because you occlude so easily. This way all you have to do is wear the ring, squeeze your fist, and think of me. Then mine will get warm and I will find my way to you.”

She demonstrated the bauble with her dark mirror-polished ring on her left index finger. He tried it a few times and felt a proud smirk appear on his face, “A modified protean charm, like the DA coins. A clever bit of magic, Hermione.”

He liked how she blushed at the compliment, twirling the ring around her finger. Severus had never imagined he would ever wear matching jewelry, let alone a ring, with a woman. It was alarming and reassuring in equal measure. But as he looked at the ring his mind began to race with ideas for a gift for her. The book he had considered giving her would hardly compare. Standing abruptly, he squeezed her shoulder with one hand and dropped a fleeting kiss to her forehead, “I must retire to the castle for the night. I will see you tomorrow, Miss Granger.”

Severus could feel her eyes on him as he raced out of the library. 

—--------------------------

“So to sum up everything, the Dark Lord split his soul into at least, at least, 6 pieces and stuffed those pieces into objects so that if he dies he can be reborn using a piece of his soul. The first was the diary- sorry Ginny,” Draco glanced at the younger girl who shrugged her shoulders, “A ring that Dumbletwat was dumb enough to put on, at least one relic from each house except Gryffindor, and these two,” he gestured to Harry and Hermione who were seated nearly on top of each other on the bed in Draco’s room, “think that the-Boy-Who-Lived is also the-Boy-With-a-Parasite but the gingers disagree.” 

“Yeah, that’s about it,” Ron said from his place lying on the carpet throwing a ball up in the air and catching it repeatedly.

“Why exactly do you two think Scarhead isn’t a horcrux?” Draco bounced his gaze between the two Weasleys.

“Having been possessed by a horcrux, I just don’t think Harry could have survived this long let alone do all the things he’s done if there was evil inside of him. The diary felt like a slow-acting poison that bled into my daily life until I wasn’t myself anymore. I just don’t think any part of You-Know-Who would be subtle or patient,” Ginny explained confidently. 

“What about you, Weaselby?” 

“You call Gin by her name, why do I still get Weaselby?” Ron whined. 

“Because Ginny is a lady and if I called her anything else I would be on the receiving end of her notorious Bat Bogey Hex. That is an experience I would prefer to avoid. Now answer the question,” Draco tossed a pillow at the lanky boy who caught it effortlessly. They didn’t make him a keeper for nothing I suppose.

“I just don’t think it makes any sense. If a piece of him went straight into Harry when he was a baby, surely his soul fragment would have been able to overpower a kid and You-Know-Who would have grown up with a brand new body. Spending years just floating around waiting for some Death Eater to come along and help him make a body sounds exhausting,” The explanation was not as idiotic as Draco had suspected. 

“Hmm, I think I will remain on the fence about it. Keep both options on the table,” He shifted his gaze again and noticed how Potter had a tight hold on Hermione’s waist and was whispering in her ear. He had pulled her between his legs with her back against his chest. Whatever the dark-haired boy said made the girl in his arms elbow him. He refocused on the conversation at hand, “The diary, the ring, the locket, something Hufflepuff, and something Ravenclaw. Then possibly Pothead…but if that’s true then a horcrux doesn’t have to be an object, it can be a living thing.”

“You sound like you’ve realized something,” Potter said, making the rest of the room’s occupants turn to him.

“The Dark Lord has this horrific pet snake, Nagini. Father mentioned to me that Snakehead has it following him around in a protective bubble and gets aggressive if anyone even looks at it.” Draco remembered the large serpent and how paranoid the evil man was whenever it wasn’t at his side. “It has to be one.”

“The snake…that would make so much sense! That’s brilliant Draco,” Hermione looked like her mind was already running a mile a minute. 

“I also think I might know who has one of the horcruxes, even if I’m not sure what it is,” The blond closed his eyes trying to recall a conversation with his psychotic aunt. “It’s in my aunt’s Gringotts vault. She was bragging about keeping something safe for the Dark Lord. You’d think he promised to marry her with how pleased she was.”

“Who would have thought, after months of research, the one thing we needed to make a dent in this mission was to adopt a Malfoy,” Ron grinned genuinely. 

“Just call it a Christmas Miracle,” Ginny said with a good-natured laugh. 

“I’ve always been a gift but I love being reminded,” Draco quipped which set them off on a round of teasing remarks. Having friends, and being surrounded while also feeling safe was a luxury that he had come to miss from his childhood. Now, he would do anything to preserve it. 

As the others fell into fits of laughter he caught Hermione’s eye. She opened her mouth to say something but Potter turned her head and kissed her roughly. While the Weasleys teased the couple, he noticed the way Hermione had stiffened and looked down. Something was wrong. 

—----------------

Hermione lay in bed, with Harry holding her close. The embrace of her friend, which normally brought her comfort, felt wrong. Not because of her bond with Severus, but something else. He had been acting strangely since they had started their holiday at Grimmauld Place. The way he grabbed her was harsh and possessive. He made sure she always sat next to him and had somehow convinced the rest of the adults in the house to allow them to stay in the same room. 

His kisses had lost their tentative quality and were aggressive. In the privacy of the room they shared it was easy to get lost in their bodily attraction but each time it took more and more force to make Harry stop and let them sleep. As attracted as she was, she worried that the bond with Harry was causing his personality change. The bond with Severus still pulsed in the back of her mind but the flowing cadence of the bond with Harry was bright and cloying. 

Hermione knew it was still early, but it was Christmas and she was quite excited to find out what Severus had given her. She hadn’t expected a gift but knowing he had got her something, no matter what, made her heart skip a beat. 

“Mmmm, Happy Christmas, Hermione,” Harry groaned sleepily in her ear, nuzzling her hair in the process. The kiss on her shoulder was brief, but when he moved her hair and began a languid appreciation of her neck with his lips and tongue she closed her eyes. It was frustrating how much a part of her wanted this, wanted to be in Harry’s arms and give him everything. But the other half of her was flashing images, sounds, and smells of Severus to battle the sensations. 

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Her voice was embarrassingly breathy. Harry had one leg over hers and she could feel his hardened length on her hip through their sleep clothes. She knew Harry wanted her completely but she couldn’t get past the newfound aggression. Hermione hummed as he moved to hover over her, nipping at her jawline and neck, then back up to her lips. She allowed herself to melt into the kiss, raking her fingers through his messy hair. 

His masculine groan against her lips was loud and throaty. He laid himself atop her, pushing her legs aside so he could lower himself into the cradle of her hips. The need that had been growing between them pooled between her legs as he rutted softly against her. When they parted, Harry cupped her cheek and smiled down at her. But Hermione froze, something in his green eyes was wrong. She tried to ignore the bonds fighting inside her so she could think straight. The young man moved to kiss her again but she held him back with the hands in his hair. He grunted in response and gave her the most wicked smile, as his pupils elongated vertically and became a black slice bisecting his pupil. 

Panic. She shoved him and he went flying off the bed and hit the ground hard with his shoulder. Hermione sat up and stared at her friend as he seemed to lose consciousness then came too with a couple of groans. 

“Bloody hell, Hermione. I’m sorry, I was getting carried away again,” He looked at her then looked away, a heated flush coming over his face. His sudden shyness and the air of awkwardness felt so much more like the Harry she knew than the one who had been with her all week. 

“Sorry, Harry. I was just startled, I thought I saw a spider in your hair,” She responded lamely. Feeling better about him, she stood and helped him to his feet. Ignoring the bulge that was still present in his pants she sat at a chair by the desk taking him in. Is it the bond? Is it retaliating because I’ve grown closer to Severus? But it’s not an amorous bond. Although, Harry and I do have feelings for each other. This isn’t normal jealousy. There’s something else going on. Why on earth did it change his eyes? 

“I’m sorry, Hermione. Look, I know I’ve kind of been dragging you along with everything I want. I shouldn’t have convinced Sirius to let us share a room without asking you,” He ruffled his hair, looking down guiltily. It was like seeing a completely different version of the scarred man. 

“Oh, no that’s alright Harry. We’ve shared space before. It was just the spider that scared me. Are you sure you’re alright?” She finally joined him back on the bed, sitting on the edge of it with him but not touching. 

“Yeah,” Harry still wasn’t looking at her. 

“Harry, you know I care about you deeply. I just can’t in good conscience let us dive head first into a full-blown relationship when we have a war, soulbonds, and horcruxes to deal with,” She took his hand but he didn’t look up, “Harry, please don’t feel bad.”

Finally, he looked up and met her eyes. The final tension in her body melted away at seeing the familiar eyes of her best friend staring at her with concern and love. She squeezed his hand and smiled softly at him, “I think it’s time for presents, don’t you think?”

—---------------------

Harry was getting antsier by the hour. The morning, while not a complete failure, had been pleasant. Waking up next to Hermione always felt like a dream, but he was frustrated with how she pushed him away. Of course, it also made sense to him because he was being…well forward would be an understatement. It’s a miracle that you haven’t shagged Hermione yet! I’m not going to push her to do what she doesn’t want to do. Based on the sounds she makes when you kiss her, she wants you to. Tonight, why not make it your last gift to her.?

The warring voices in his head had also grown more fervent with the arrival of the rest of the Order for Christmas lunch. This of course included the Potions Master who startled everyone by dressing in plain black trousers and a deep navy jumper. With all the hustle and bustle of sharing thanks and greeting everyone, Harry had not secured a seat next to Hermione. Instead, she was once more near the end of the table flanked by Draco and Snape. 

As lunch wore on with much merriment, Harry fingered the chain around his neck and observed the way Snape and Hermione were as close as could be without touching. He caught every second look and soft expression the dungeon bat gave her when she wasn’t paying attention. Ugly old bastard. He shouldn’t touch what doesn’t belong to him. 

“Harry, are you alright? You’re looking a bit pale,” Remus whispered next to him, concern painting the Werewolf’s face. 

“I think maybe I ate a bit too fast,” Harry excused himself to head to the bathroom down the hall. He didn’t notice the odd look in Remus’s eyes as they followed him into the hallway. 

Harry looked into the slightly blurry mirror of the first-floor bathroom. He splashed his face with water and attempted to flatten his hair back down after ruffling it. All he needed to do was make sure that Snape didn’t spend too long hogging all of Hermione’s attention. He cracked the door open but paused when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Severus, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to give this to you away from prying eyes,” The Professor sounded nervous. 

Harry peeked out of the slit in the doorway and watched as his bonded match opened a gift from the ex-spy. Hermione was easy to see but the professor had his back turned. The Boy Who Lived almost scoffed at the book that was revealed. It was blank and had no discernible features but was wrapped in rich brown leather. Harry himself had given Hermione a simple pair of earrings that she had spotted once on a page of Witch Weekly. Diamonds after all were a woman’s best friend. He sneered, there was no way a book would be better than his gift. 

“Before you grow disappointed at me giving you an empty book,” Snape sounded like he was smiling which was disconcerting to the hidden Gryffindor. The Professor proceeded to tap the book with his wand, words and a newly designed cover melted into place. He did it again and the pages and cover shifted once more. “It’s keyed to my collection. You can think of the book you want and with a tap of your wand, that book will appear here. If you don’t know the exact book but you know what you want the subject to be, you can think of the subject and the book will split itself into the first chapters of the first 5 relevant books. You just tap again on the chapter you like and the rest of the book will appear.”

Hermione was awed by it, even Harry could admit, for a bookworm like her it was a perfect gift. He did not however expect the way his friend threw her arms around the professor, nearly hitting him with the book in her hands. She kissed the older man passionately. A jealous rage seemed to unfurl in the middle of Harry’s chest and continued to spread as he watched the couple embrace. 

Snape had recovered from the shock and had wrapped his arms around Hermione, pressing her into the wall as they kissed deeply in the dark hallway. Harry wanted to rip the man's arms off of his body for touching his woman. But Snape was the one to pull away, keeping his hands on Hermione’s shoulders and pressing her against the wall as he stepped back. 

“You’re welcome. But please, I truly do not want to be caught by Minerva, Molly, or Poppy. I would like to survive this Christmas,” Snape’s voice was breathy with lust, making Harry flick his wand from its holster and grip it tightly.

“We’re bonded though, isn’t it expected of us,” Hermione whined. She hugged the book to her chest looking flushed and thoroughly snogged. Snape stepped back until his back was against the opposite wall of the hallway.

Snape groaned, “You said something similar to me before. Thus I will reply in the same way. The bond is increasing whatever respect for me you have into a passionate ardor far exceeding the original affection. We cannot indulge, Miss Granger.”

Hermione actually giggled, “Now, Severus, I was simply thanking you for this amazing Christmas gift. Did you not like my methods?”

“I may like them too much. But based on your gift to me, if we survive this war, there will be a time in the future when we can truly thank each other.” Are they flirting? Is Hermione Granger flirting with Severus Snape? And what gift? What did she give him?

Harry was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice when Snape had walked back down the hallway towards the main sitting room and kitchen, presumably to rejoin the party. Hermione shook herself in a giddy manner. She held the book tightly to her chest and turned to make her way up the staircase. Spurred by his overboiling jealousy, Harry followed her. 

Hermione had barely made it through the bedroom door when Harry came up to her and locked the door behind them. 

“Harry! You scared me,” Hermione chastised him, smacking him playfully with the book. But when she looked in his eyes he saw the flash of terror. 

Harry snatched the book from her hand and tossed it onto the desk, landing pages first. With a flick of his wrist, he cast a silencing charm on the room. 

“Harry, w-what are you doing?” Hermione backed her way into the center of the room. 

Harry saw the moment that she flicked her wand from its holster and responded in a flash. Her wand went flying into his waiting hand, “You were always just a bit too slow to beat me, Hermione.”

With another flick of his wrist, her wand vanished into the drawer of the desk, though she didn’t know that. He stalked forward, grabbing her wrists and pulling her against his chest. 

“Harry, when did you learn to cast silently?” Hermione was searching his face but he took no notice. 

“Why did you have to do that, love?” Harry growled. Hermione’s eyes widened at the pet name. 

“Do what, Harry?”

“Why did you have to kiss the bat and enjoy it? I heard your slutty little moans for him,” Harry gripped her hair hard making her yelp. “Have you gotten down on your knees for him yet? Or maybe you’ve let him slither in between your legs?”

Hermione tried to fight back but years in quidditch and his larger frame let him subdue her. 

“Harry, you need to stop! Something’s wrong with you! You wouldn’t say this,” Hermione pleaded, still struggling hard. But Harry found it surprising how easily he detained her. 

“You keep forgetting that you belong to me, Hermione,” the terror that bled into Hermione’s gaze only spiked the forceful lust and possession that burned through his chest. His grip tightened on her wrists as he manhandled her.  “Bonds be damned. You shouldn’t let that bastard even breathe near you,” 

Harry growled then threw her on to the bed and held her with two hands on her throat. She pried at his forearms and hands but he didn’t budge. The familiar voice in his head took on a snake-like quality as it vehemently whispered to him. Kill her. Kill her. If you can’t have her, why should the dungeon bat get a chance? 

The door to the room was suddenly blasted open with a deafening crash. Harry hit the wall and crumpled to the ground. There was yelling and screaming filling the air. Before he could get his bearings he was grabbed by the collar. Looking down at him was a furious Severus Snape with his wand pointed directly between Harry’s eyes.

Chapter Text

Severus was doing a valiant job of hiding the warmth pervading him after giving Hermione her Christmas gift. It was almost an out of body experience to be appreciated with such abandon. He took his place against the wall, waiting for her return as the rest of the guests and residents took part in tea and desserts. 

“Your eyes are smiling, Severus. I take it Hermione liked her gift,” Remus spoke in a low voice so no one would overhear. 

If it had been anyone else he might have denied it but the Potions Master had found out the night before that he truly had an ally in the werewolf. “More than I could have hoped for. Thank you for your assistance last night. Without your efficiency in Charms, I doubt the final product would have turned out so elegant.”

“No need for thanks. Merlin knows I owe you more than anyone in this place,” It was a silent nod to the constant supply of wolfsbane that no longer cost him an arm and leg to procure. “I do have to say it was a brilliant idea.”

“I owe her so much at this point that it seems inadequate,” Severus looked around the room and allowed his normal tense vigilance to slacken. 

“You’ve always been a man of your word, Severus. An admirable trait when you consider the cards you’ve been dealt your whole life,” Remus intoned as a comfortable silence fell between the former classmates. 

Then he felt it, the ring was warm. But she only went upstairs. A cursory glance told him that there were only two people missing, Hermione and Harry Potter. 

“What is it?” Remus reacted immediately, no doubt sensing his unrest.

“Godfather?” Draco stopped on his way out the door into the hallway, having heard the worry in Remus’s voice. 

“Come with me. Something’s wrong,” Quickly but with a grace that bellied their urgency the three men slipped out of the kitchen. Severus led the way down the dark hall. “Hermione is in danger.”

Draco was wide eyed but pulled out his wand. Remus began to sense distress as they ascended the stairs. A low growl coming from the man told him that Moony knew that his pack was in danger.

“Draco cast wards on the next landing, no one should hear us downstairs or follow us. I will not risk the rest of the Order or our much needed secrecy,” Severus commanded as he picked up his pace. At Hermione’s door he felt the bond barreling through his skin, screaming at him to go to her. With a slash of his wand the door splintered. 

It took a mere second for him to take in the scene before he blasted Potter off of Hermione. Seeing her conscious and reaching for Draco who was already a step away, the ex-spy turned his attention to the boy who had slammed into the wall and was now struggling to stand. Rage flowed through him as he grabbed the boy by the collar and pointed his wand at him. The Boy-Who-Lived looked up and Severus almost pulled back. 

The look in the boy’s eyes was the only reason Severus hadn’t killed him on sight. His bond flared dangerously around him but he implemented his occlusion to contain his feelings, he had to think logically. This was not Potter’s doing, at least not consciously.

“Draco, repair the door and seal it shut. No one else need be part of this,” He commanded his godson while keeping his eye on the dark haired boy who was still on his knees before him. Behind him he heard the door knitting together. “Hermione, are you alright?”

“Severus, please don’t hurt him! Something’s wrong with him. He would never attack me like that if he was himself,” Hermione pleaded, her voice hoarse from being choked. The boy in question tried to lunge forward. 

“Incarcerous!” The spell came from Remus who now stood at his side looking down at the boy who was thrashing against the bonds. “His eyes, Severus.”

The taller man nodded to the werewolf, sharing a look of concern. Kneeling he grabbed Potter’s chin and saw the eerie snake-like eyes glaring at him with loathing. 

“Let me go, you bastard! I’ll kill you!” The boy gnashed his teeth at him violently. The vitriol was genuine and completely out of character.

“What the hell are you saying, Potter?!” Draco barked at his classmate. A cursory glance saw the blond boy with an arm wrapped around a crying Hermione. 

“Get your hands off her you fucking ferret!” Potter raged. Severus stood and looked at Remus who nodded in understanding. Together the two professors began casting all manner of diagnostic spells and dark magic detection. The expected faint green glow of his scar was overshadowed by two much more telling blots of color. Around his shoulders, there was a misty shroud that Severus suspected was the alchemic bond. But on his chest and around his neck glowed a dark purple and pulsing entity. The cursed boy snarled again mocking the men, “She has you all by the bullocks, doesn’t she? Fucking whore. You’re mine!”

It took all of Severus’s restraint not to punch the boy, knowing that Hermione would disapprove. Remus, who had no qualms about such an act of violence, picked up the boy by his bindings and swung hard at the side of his head. The sound told him the boy would not only bruise horribly but may need to get the bones in his cheek healed. Now that Potter was completely incapacitated the room fell silent. 

“Hermione, what happened?” Remus kept his eyes on the unconscious Gryffindor, a frown marring his face. 

Severus turned to her, covering the short expanse in two strides before she launched herself into his embrace. Propriety be damned. “Shh, it’s alright. Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know! I-I was just coming up here to put my gift away and he followed me!” She clung to his sweater with one hand while the other furiously rubbed away at her tears. “He was so mad and said such horrible things! He was too fast, he disarmed me but I fought back. He’s so much stronger than I am. I tried, Severus. I really did!”

Severus lifted her chin so he could take a look at her. “I know. You did well. I felt it as soon as you used the ring. We hadn’t talked about using it outside of when the bond was bothering us so I didn’t react with as much urgency as I should have.”

“Don’t act guilty when you likely saved my life, Severus. All of you,” Hermione looked at the other two in the room before her eyes landed on the prone form of her dear friend. “His eyes changed. I thought…he’d been acting a bit strange all week. I figured that maybe he was just more relaxed because of the holiday. But he’s been so possessive, grabbing me too tightly, speaking to me too harshly. His eyes changed yesterday but so briefly I thought I imagined it. Like snake eyes.”

A shudder ran through her body and Severus held her closer. He looked to the werewolf who was kneeling next to Potter, “Remus, he obviously has a curse on him. Ignore the gray shroud and focus on the curse around his neck and chest.”

From the bed, he, Draco, and Hermione watched as Remus conjured a pair of gloves, and then pulled Potter’s collar down. A locket. Gingerly, the werewolf removed the locket from around his neck and stood, holding it at arm’s length. The air in the room grew heavy, coldness creeping into their senses. 

“Salazar Slytherin’s locket,” Hermione gasped out, “When? How?”

“You mean that’s a bloody horcrux?” Draco sounded fearful. 

Remus reacted immediately, throwing the locket to the ground, conjuring a fitted box for it before locking it inside and warding it with such intricate spells that Severus couldn’t keep up. With each ward, the dreadful feeling of the horcrux was confined. The haggard man turned the box in his hands in disbelief. “A horcrux? Bloody hell, Severus. The demon made a fucking horcrux.”

With the cat out of the bag, there was no point in keeping the knowledge secret from the werewolf. Severus sighed and pulled out of Hermione’s embrace to stand, “Yes. As far as we know, that’s the third one.”

At the news, Remus dropped heavily into the desk chair. “Third? Third, Severus, how many more?”

“With the reveal of this one, there are at least three more,” Severus couldn’t hide his disgust. He stepped closer to the felled teenager. “The last horcrux gave Albus that blackened hand, so I cannot begin to comprehend why this idiot boy decided to wear the bloody thing around his neck!”

At that, Potter began to stir. Remus went to his side and helped him sit, deftly healing the worst of his cheek. The boy coughed and groaned, “What…what’s happening…Remus? Why am I tied up?”

The familiar eyes scanned the room and stopped on the bed. All color left his face then he turned and vomited on the floor. With a quick wave of his wand, Remus cleaned the mess. The boy was horrified and crying, “Oh god, Hermione I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was doing! I almost killed you! I-it was like there was someone else in my head taking over, making everything ten times worse.”

His cries were pitiful but even Severus could tell the boy was sincere, “Potter, stop your wailing. Hermione is fine. You on the other hand seem to have been exposed to a horcrux for an extended period. Care to enlighten us?”

“Harry, I forgive you but now you need to tell the truth,” Hermione was standing and not for the first time, Severus was amazed by her resilience. “How and when did you find the locket?”

The boy whimpered as his friend kneeled before him, “The first night of the holiday. Remember R.A.B.? I remembered the initials and asked Kreacher. It was Regulus Black, Sirius’s brother. Then Kreacher brought me the locket I wasn’t going to put it on at first. I kept it wrapped in the desk but by the morning it was around my neck and every time I tried to take it off it was like I would forget and move on to the next thing. I can remember things but it’s like chunks are missing, like someone else was pulling the strings. God, Hermione, I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I’m guessing the locket also compelled you to keep it a secret as it infected you?” Severus asked. 

“Professor, I wanted to tell you right away! I did, I just…I couldn’t. You stopped me. I-I…thank you for stopping me,” The boy dissolved into guilty sobs and a wave of pity came over the Slytherin Head of House. He knew what it was like to have such a deep regret. Hermione was at least more forgiving than the people from his past. 

“You’re lucky it didn’t kill you on the spot. If you had suspicions you should have told us. How do you even know who Regulus is? I knew him, Potter, we were…friends. I would have guessed Kreacher had it in his possession or at least knew where it was based on the undying devotion he has to Regulus even now.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. 

Properly chastised, Remus undid the bonds and healed the rest of his wounds. Severus turned back to Hermione and examined her neck. From his pocket he pulled out a bruise salve and told her to apply it before bed and the bruising would be gone by morning. 

“What will you do with it?” Draco asked as he looked over to the broken boy and then at the contained horcrux. 

“I will take it to Hogwarts. Once the term resumes we can reconvene and work on destroying it,” Severus sighed heavily. Hermione leaned against his side, obviously exhausted, emotionally and physically. 

“Before that,” The girl intoned with a steadier and stronger voice than he expected, “Everyone needs to take a wand oath. Nothing of what has happened here needs to be shared with anyone else. We will tell the others that Harry and I figured it out, retrieved the locket, and gave it to the Professor for safekeeping.”

No one argued. It was the right thing to do.

“Remus, I will send you a message about when we are meeting. You know too much already so we might as well get you up to speed,” Severus acknowledged the man who had an arm around Potter’s shoulders. 

“Alright, thank you. I’ll take Harry to my room for the night. I’ll send Kreacher down to tell the others we all turned in after an ill-advised drinking match. Sirius will make such a ruckus about being left out that no one will question the validity,” With that the werewolf undid the wards and opened the door. Potter hesitated then turned, “I’m truly sorry.”

Then it was just Draco, Hermione, and himself. Draco summoned a bottle of fire whiskey, dabbed some on his collar, and took a deep swig. Severus felt his brow rise in surprise at his godson's antics. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Hermione was aghast, to the Slytherins’ amusement. 

“Making sure our alibi sticks. I’ll stumble downstairs and back up Kreacher’s words. You should go back to Hogwarts, Hermione,” Draco said seriously. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione argued.

“You were just attacked by your best friend, one of your bonded, and practically your boyfriend. Compulsion or not, that is traumatic,” His tone brooked no argument. Draco stood and made his way to the door, “Once the shock wears off you’ll need to be somewhere safe with someone safe. Trust me.”

Then he was gone and Severus and Hermione were alone. He closed the door and locked it, then turned to the young woman, sat down, and pulled her to sit across his lap. Hermione leaned into his embrace. He waited, not saying anything, just letting her take comfort and then it came. The sobs wracked her body and she wailed against his chest. Severus knew that she had wanted to be strong, she had held it together as long as she could. But Draco was right, this wasn’t a simple attack by an enemy. This was a betrayal, outside forces being involved didn’t completely change that. The hate he once held for Potter was now gone, pity and understanding replacing it. If the friendship between the two Gryffindors survived this then it would be a miracle in itself.  

When the party dispersed downstairs, Severus was able to whisk Hermione away back to Hogwarts. Hermione insisted, to the disappointment of Severus and the bond, that she would stay in her rooms for the remainder of the holiday. She did promise to take tea with him and Narcissa the next afternoon to go over the recent events and the conclusions they had come to in their research. She wanted time to herself for now. Time to let herself feel and examine and accept everything that had changed.

Severus found himself standing outside of her dorm room long after he had bid her farewell for the night. When he finally walked away he walked the dark hallways and went over the rollercoaster of events. He almost scoffed at how happy he had been, yes truly happy, when he had given Hermione her gift. But this day was now tainted with the darkness that surrounded all of them as they fought this war. 

He suppressed a shiver as he recalled the way Potter had looked when he had blasted him away from Hermione. Potter’s knuckles had been white from the force he had been exerting on Hermione’s throat. The desperate flailing and clawing of her limbs as she fought her best friend. The overwhelming fear at the tableau he had come upon, followed by the feral rage of a man protecting his mate had come in rapid succession. Hearing her voice and knowing she was relatively unhurt had corralled his response. 

Paying witness to the true evil of his old master as it wreaked havoc upon the innocents around him made him sick. It triggered a wave of guilt that came from deep within. The shame at having sided with the evil despot to begin with, and the subsequent horrors he had enacted in the name of their cause pervaded his senses. He had never thought he would again care about someone so much that he wished he could turn back time and right his wrongs. The guilt he had tucked away at the edges of his consciousness, where it all mingled into a wash of gray became vibrant and blinding.  In the confines of his quarters, away from prying eyes, Severus Snape wept. He wept for the innocent and the guilty.

Chapter Text

Hermione spent the rest of the night and most of the following day in her rooms. She had dove head first into researching her journals to distract her from the torment of reliving the horcrux incident with Harry. She had been vacillating between missing him and being terrified to see him again. This was made all the more confusing by the shroud of the bond she shared with him which seemed restless. She hoped that her journals would shed some light on that bond as well if she was the one who put it there.

As Hermione read through her journals she found an immense amount of research and contingency plans but nothing concrete about the rituals. It annoyed her to no end that her journaling had stopped the day her parents had died. In essence, the research for the ritual was only half-formed, wherever the other half was it was not among her possessions. But she knew herself, there were notes somewhere, plans hidden.

“Why would it be separate? Hermione, think. Old magic rituals are generally against the law. So I hid the evidence. I couldn’t risk being found out but I also didn’t want anyone else to attempt it. Where did I keep my notes? Someplace where no one else could find them?” Hermione mused to herself as she finally got up from bed. She had skipped breakfast and nibbled at snacks for lunch, her stomach was reminding her that she needed sustenance.

As her mind wandered, so did her legs. She was not paying attention as she seemed to recede into her mind library and depend on muscle memory to take her where she needed to go, Hermione found herself in front of a familiar door on the seventh floor. How did I get here? Why do I need to go to the room of lost things?

Putting her faith in fate for once, Hermione opened the door and walked into the cluttered and monumental room. Could her missing research be here somewhere? When she tried a few summoning spells with no results she grew frustrated. Her subconscious took her here so there had to be a reason for it. Laying her wand flat on her palm she whispered, “Point me.”

The delicate wand swiveled in circles before finally choosing a direction that would lead her to the deep heart of the perilous room. A part of her had always been curious about the contents of the large space but she hardly had time to go rooting around in it. With a deep breath, Hermione followed the wand’s lead.

As Hermione trekked she tried not to become distracted with the multitudes of lost objects ranging from old homework to whole beds. There were mountains of old desks and chests full of unmatched earrings and socks. The most intriguing and beguiling were the books. Maybe one day when the war is over I can come up here with Severus and see what books we can find.

The thought brought warmth and also guilt at assuming he would want to stay with her after the war. If all their plans went accordingly they would end the war alive and no longer bound together. He would have no reason to stay by her side. The thought made her heart ache terribly but she pushed it aside as she came upon a large chest that bore her magical signature. 

With practiced ease, she took down her complicated wards and protections. There was a feeling of deja vu that wasn’t at all surprising. Once freed the chest opened easily and inside, among a collection of books were three journals that she vaguely recognized. She cast a quick spell to check the time and saw that she had missed dinner so there was no reason for her to hurry. A quick spell pulled a chair and small table up next to the chest ready for her to begin her reading. It was only a few pages into the first journal when her eyes widened, and an expression of shock came upon her face. This is not good.

—---------------------

Harry had been through a lot in life; from the abuse from his uncle and aunt to the annual fight against evil. He had felt everything from anger, vengeance, and regret to joy, acceptance, and love. But this complete self-hatred and worthlessness was new and he welcomed it. After what he had done, he felt that he deserved it. Remus had done his best to comfort him but also scold him for his recklessness. He couldn’t blame him. Seeing Hermione so afraid of him, rightly afraid of him had broken something inside him. 

“Harry, you must get up and eat something. I don’t know how much longer I can convince Sirius that you’re just brooding over a row with Hermione,” Remus whispered as he shook Harry’s shoulder. The mention of the girl he loved made him shut his eyes tight, trying to will away the vision of her fearful eyes and his hands around her neck. “Severus took her back to Hogwarts last night. You don’t have to face her yet.”

The silence was loud after the admission. The jealousy that had been so present every time the Potions Master was mentioned was replaced by a quiet gratefulness. She deserved someone who could protect her. Even if it meant protecting her from him. With a laborious sigh, Harry sat up and cast his puffy red eyes at the werewolf. “How am I ever going to face her again?”

“She’s your best friend, Harry. She’s already forgiven you. It was the horcrux manipulating you,” Remus gripped the younger man’s shoulder.  

“It wasn’t though. I’ve been jealous of them ever since the bond was revealed. I’ve been so angry and selfish like a cup in my head is being overrun with contempt. I was controlling it before the locket, but the horcrux was too strong. It was like the devil on your shoulder but there was no angel on the other to talk you back to reason,” Harry dropped his face into his hands feeling the guilty tears well up again. 

Remus seemed to think for a moment before responding, “A horcrux is the darkest of dark magic. Even the most innocent person could be swayed to darker tendencies by wearing one. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Learn from this and don’t be so reckless, we are here to help you shoulder your burden. No amount of darkness can pull you from the light when the people who love you won’t allow it.”

“I love her, Remus. I’ve ruined everything,” Harry sobbed. 

“I know. Anyone with a brain could tell how much she means to you. I cannot speak for Hermione, but at least take comfort in knowing that she is your childhood friend, she will always be on your side. Years of fighting evil with you is enough to prove her loyalty,” The werewolf tried to reassure him. 

“She’s better off with Snape anyway,” Harry admitted, choking on the words and feeling the bond around his shoulders douse him in a cold wave. It made him shiver and in turn, Remus pulled him into his arms to soothe him.

Later that night as he lay in bed in the room he shared with Ron the inevitable questions began. 

“So are you going to tell me what happened or keep me in the dark like everyone else?” Ron said, sounding irritated. 

“I took a wand oath, Ron. When we get back to the castle we plan on having a meeting about the bonds and the horcruxes with the Malfoys and Hermione. I promise we will tell you then,” Harry whispered, praying that his friend wouldn’t push the issue. 

“Just tell me one thing if you can?” Ron replied into the dark room, “Did you hurt her?”

Harry felt the urge to wretch as the memories of the night before were summoned back to the forefront of his mind. His voice shook and came out as an incoherent sob, “Yes.”

It took Ron a moment to respond, “She’s okay though? Snape took her, didn’t he?”

He could hear the pity in his friend’s words. Harry wished Ron would get angry, fight with him, beat him. Something to feel like he was punished for what he had done. But Ron remained steadfast and quiet, “He took her back to school. She’s ok…thanks to him.”

“That’s the important part. Whatever it is, Harry. Hermione will forgive you. That’s how she is,” With that said Ron turned over and promptly fell asleep. 

Harry stared into the darkness and felt tears falling from the corners of his eyes again. I don’t deserve her forgiveness.

—----------------

Severus paced up and down his sitting room. Draco and Narcissa were already sitting at his small breakfast table as they waited for the other students and Remus to arrive. Hermione had been closed off the last few days, understandably. Though she had made time to take tea with him and Narcissa the past few days to update the woman on recent events and share information. But this would be the first time she would be in the presence of Potter since the incident.

The Gryffindor students would be arriving soon. Hermione had just passed through his wards when the fire flared and Remus entered the space, to be closely followed by Sirius Black. Severus occluded hard at the sight of the dark-haired mutt. 

“Play nice, you two. Harry asked that Sirius be here and Merlin knows I’d rather bring him along rather than letting him stew until he blasts his way into the castle,” Remus barked. The harsh tone belied his frustrations. 

Before Severus could argue, Hermione walked in and nodded to everyone before taking her seat near him in an armchair. He touched her shoulder softly in greeting and she touched his hand in response, a small smile directed at him. The bond flared to life as Severus instinctually sent her comforting feelings with his magic. Her fiery magic met him and the both of them visibly relaxed. 

“Hermione, I hope you are well,” Remus said before taking a seat on the couch near her. 

“I’m alright, Remus. Between studying and having tea with Professor Snape and the Malfoys I’ve been able to calm down and process everything,” Hermione looked pensive as she continued, “How is Harry?”

“He’s been moping around the last week, Hermione. I know you had a row but the boy is practically love sick. Come on kitten, whatever he did couldn’t have been that bad.” Sirius made his way around the sofa so he could stand behind Remus. Severus bristled at the pet name, ready to send a sharp verbal barb his way but Hermione squeezed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Sirius, what are you doing here exactly?” Her voice was controlled. It was obvious that she was occluding. 

“Harry wants him here, Hermione. I think it would be good to have him as another contact outside of the castle as you all continue your research. Harry trusts him and so do I,” Remus reasoned. 

“I think if you can accept Cissy and her spawn you could let me slide, kitten. I owe you my life and I still have to pay you back for that,” Black said flippantly. 

Severus squeezed her shoulder again, deferring the decision to her. She glanced at him and sighed, “An armistice then? Sirius, Severus, you must be civil. We are all on the same team. Is that clear?”

Severus smirked at the authoritative tone of his bonded. He was reminded again and again that though she was young she was powerful. His baritone rolled smoothly out of his lips, “I can be the epitome of civility, Miss Granger. I’ve struck up quite a friendly acquaintance with Remus since learning I was part of his pack. I’m sure…given his cooperation, Sirius could learn to. Respect. Others.” 

Black was ready to start yelling when the door to Severus’ quarters opened and the rest of the Gryffindors filed in. Ginny and Ron crossed the room quickly, hugging Hermione. Ginny sat on the arm of her chair and the Weasley boy took a spot on the couch next to Remus. Potter kept his eyes on the ground as he crossed to the last available armchair, as far away from Hermione as possible. Greetings were exchanged all around until silence fell. 

“Everyone please put out your wands, I have to expand the wand oath to include Ginny, Mrs. Malfoy, Ron, and Sirius,” Hermione stood. Severus removed his hand from her shoulder, realizing he had been touching her the whole time. Black and Weasley tried to argue but a look from some of the others in the room silenced them. Once the wand oath was expanded the real meeting began. Severus had the overwhelming feeling that this was the beginning of the end of the war. 

—-------------------------

Harry listened but did not raise his head as information was shared. The horcruxes were explained briefly with Hermione leading the conversation. He couldn’t look up. He dared not look at Hermione. The guilt and shame were eating away at him. Sirius had moved to stand next to his armchair and he took what strength he could from his presence. 

“Harry, you alright son?” Sirius spoke in a low voice, concern marring his face. Harry nodded but kept his eyes downward.

“So far we know that the diary from 2nd year, the ring Dumbledore found, and the locket are horcruxes. Thanks to Draco and seconded by Mrs. Malfoy we have concluded that Nagini, Voldemort’s snake, may also be a horcrux,” Hermione spoke, confidently. It relieved Harry a bit to see her resilience after what he had done to her. 

“The Malfoys will work on retrieving the Hufflepuff chalice if that is what Bellatrix was entrusted with. Until then, we are working on figuring out what the Ravenclaw relic is as well as the best ways to destroy the horcruxes,” Professor Snape continued. 

“And what does Dumbledore think of all this?” Sirius asked, making Harry wince. He knew his godfather had borderline blind faith in the Headmaster. 

“He does not and will not find out that we know about the Horcruxes,” Snape replied, a threatening tone to his voice, “If he should find out about you or any of Potter’s friends, it would be believable considering Albus’s suggestion that Harry seeks aid from those he trusts. But he cannot be made privy to all of our plans. Hence the wand oath.” 

Harry looked up and met the professor’s eyes for the first time since he had arrived in the man’s chambers. He saw a flash of pity in his eyes but it was replaced with his regular black stare. Relief flooded his senses. The worry that the jealousy would flair up again upon seeing his nemesis for Hermione’s affections, were assuaged. He did not feel the possessive waves and murderous intent that had embodied him so recently. 

“I can sense I will be outvoted if I disagree,” Sirius intoned, “Now what happened on Christmas?”

“I’d like to know too,” Ron said, speaking up for the first time during the meeting, “Hermione disappeared, obviously you brought her back here Professor. But why? They haven’t even looked at each other this whole meeting.”

“When Harry received the locket from Kreacher it had some adverse effects on him and by extension, me,” Hermione explained calmly. Harry stilled as he listened to her diffuse the situation, “Professor Snape and Remus concluded that it would be better if we were separated to decrease the effect the locket had on us until we can destroy it.”

He could tell that Ron didn’t quite believe the simple explanation but a subtle shake of his head towards his friend told him to wait until later for more. 

“Hermione, why are you letting Snape make decisions about your safety for you? I thought you were dating Harry. He even let slip something about a bond.” Sirius asked. Harry was going to tell him off but Remus beat him to it. 

“Sirius, it was a decision Hermione, Severus, and I agreed upon. The dark magic of a horcrux can…encourage behavior that can harm others. With how close Harry and Hermione are it only made sense. Don’t make any insinuations. I know nothing about a bond between the two of them, however.” Remus had steel behind his voice. Harry didn’t feel so bad knowing that even he was growing annoyed with his godfather. But now that the bond was out it seemed everyone was expecting him to talk. But once again Hermione took over. 

“While a bond exists between me and Professor Snape, we also discovered a different bond between Harry and I. No, we don’t know who put it there or the purpose of the bond. Mrs. Malfoy, the Professor, and I are doing our research to find out more about the bonds. However, I have noticed a distinct difference between the two bonds. The one between me and Harry isn’t nearly as strong and doesn’t seem to have the same level of compulsion or negative physical effects that the one between Professor Snape and I have,” Hermione responded in a practiced manner. Harry had a feeling that she might know more about the bond between them than she was letting on but he didn’t have the will to push her to explain further.

“So you’re just choosing the bond with Snape over Harry?” Sirius looked baffled.

“Sirius, just drop it. You won’t understand it even if we all gave you an explanation,” Harry snapped at his godfather who looked even more flabbergasted. Thankfully Ginny got the meeting back on track. 

“So what’s the next step?” Ginny asked. She had been taking everything in calmly and was still seated next to Hermione, stroking the older girl's hair absently. 

“We have to destroy the locket,” Draco responded. “I call dibs!”

“Draco!” Mrs. Malfoy flicked his forehead making the boy yelp.

“You will not be calling ‘dibs’ on the destruction of a dark object containing a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul!” Snape snapped at the blonde boy. 

“Do we even know how to destroy it?” Remus asked, looking at the Potions Master. 

Confident in what knowledge he did have, Harry spoke, “Basilisk venom. The diary in second year, I pierced it with a basilisk fang. The sword of Gryffindor can also destroy it because I used it to kill the basilisk. But getting the sword out of Dumbledore’s office without him noticing would be impossible.”

“Did you happen to save some of that venom, Potter? I unfortunately do not have any in my ingredient storage,” Snape rolled his eyes, sarcastic as ever. 

“He didn’t need to. The basilisk is still down there,” Hermione said, finally meeting Harry’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before the corner of her mouth lifted in a soft smile. That one gesture made Harry want to weep in relief. He was sure she would look at him with fear or hatred but he only saw the same eyes of the young woman he loved. 

“Albus said he took care of it! You mean to tell me he left an entire basilisk down there to rot when I asked him if I could harvest it?!” The look on Snape’s face would be comical in any other situation. “The amount of rare potion ingredients that went to waste! That old fool!”

“Severus,” Hermione said his name in an amused voice, reaching for his hand. The obvious affection made Harry’s heartache, “The skeleton is still down there. Harry and I went down there in the third year one night when he couldn’t sleep and I was curious. I missed that little adventure, remember?”

Harry saw the moment Snape remembered that Hermione had been petrified that year. He paled and squeezed her hand. It was a small movement, a minute change that spoke volumes about how much the man cared for Hermione. It was a painful realization to know that he was losing her but a relief to know that the older man cared for her as much as he did.  

—-----------------

“I don’t know why you all had to come. It could have just been me and Potter,” Draco said, looking back at the group following him. He walked in the front next to Harry, followed by Remus and Sirius. Hermione took up the rear with Severus. Ginny and Ron had opted out of the adventure and Mrs. Malfoy said she had no interest in walking in the sewers. 

“Draco, I don’t think any of us could have stopped Professor Snape from coming down here to do some harvesting,” Hermione laughed, nudging the man’s side with her shoulder. The dark of the tunnels had been a great cover for all the ‘accidental’ touches she had been initiating between them. Staying away from him the last few days had helped her get her thoughts and feelings in order, but the bond had grown needy for interaction. 

“That I can agree with, Hermione,” Draco called from the front of the group, “Potter was necessary to open the chamber, and obviously wherever Harry or Uncle go, you go. I’m wondering about these two.”

His gesture backwards was flippant and tinged with excitement. Hermione rolled her eyes and next to her Severus scoffed. 

“It’s a dark object, Mister Malfoy. I think having a few experienced wizards here while you destroy it is a necessary measure,” Remus chimed in as he surveyed the area, swiveling his head left and right as if they could be attacked at any moment. 

“That I can concede to, former Professor Lupin. What about the mutt?” Draco stopped as they entered a larger chamber, turning back to look at the group. 

Harry shoved Draco but not in any way that would hurt. It was oddly satisfying to see the two acting friendly, “Malfoy, that’s my godfather you’re talking about.”

“Hey, I haven’t said shit whenever you call my godfather a greasy bat of the dungeons!” Draco answered back, shoving Harry and running off down the chamber. 

The rest of them hurried to follow the two teenagers. They all stopped as they took in the room before them. The great, open-mouthed stone face and the long and winding skeleton of a large basilisk still made her skin crawl.

“Oy! Potter, you killed that when you were twelve?!” The shock on Draco’s face reminded Hermione of the first time she had laid eyes on it too. Except she had immediately started sobbing and thrown her arms around Harry, relieved that they were both alive. 

“Harry! Your father would have been so proud! This is practically the size of a dragon!” Sirius exclaimed as he circled the skeleton. Remus also looked impressed and proud. 

Hermione looked to her side to ask what Severus thought but he was already a few meters away gently yanking basilisk fangs out of the skull of the serpent and tucking them into a pouch inside his robes. While the two boys and the remaining Marauders marveled over the reality of Harry’s heroism, Hermione helped Severus collect as much of the basilisk that was still usable. 

It was quick work and Hermione supposed this was the closest to giddy she would ever see Severus as he smiled softly at the haul of ingredients that filled his extendable pouch. 

“You two lovebirds done scavenging?” Draco popped up next to them, taking one of the fangs from the pouch. 

“Are you sure you want to be the one to do this?” Severus asked Draco, looking at him seriously. 

“Yes, godfather. I feel like I have to do this,” the Slytherin got a faraway look in his eyes before he refocused and nodded at them. 

Severus and Remus made a perimeter around Draco and kept the whole ordeal contained in a powerful shielded dome that reminded her of a large bubblehead charm. Harry and Sirius stood next to Hermione a distance away behind another shield.  It was rather anticlimactic if she was honest. There was a tingle of dark magic and a noxious cloud of dark smoke erupted from the locket. It seemed that the three inside the perimeter were reacting to something that the rest of them couldn’t see. But Draco was able to stab the locket with the fang and the black cloud collapsed into itself and disappeared. 

Once the shields were let down Severus covered the expanse between them in a few strides and wrapped Hermione into a tight embrace. It was surprising that he would shuck propriety in front of so many people. He was shaking as she brought her arms around him and let him collect himself. He sniffled against her hair and seemed to choke back a sob. 

“I’m here, Severus. I’ve got you,” Hermione whispered, kissing his neck, the only skin she could reach. She looked past him to see Sirius holding Remus and to her surprise, Harry was helping Draco to his feet, giving him a shoulder to lean on. 

The trek back up to the castle was quiet. Severus held Hermione’s hand in a firm grip, not caring that the rest of the group would notice if they looked back at them. As if he could feel her examining him, Severus met her gaze, “I will show you another time. I promise.”

—-------------------

Severus lay in his bed spooned up against the warm body of a woman he clearly didn’t deserve but wanted anyway. She had refused to leave him after the return from the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione had not pushed for an explanation. Instead, she helped him store the ingredients they had collected and then guided him to his bedroom. She had methodically helped him remove his outer layers and get ready for bed before doing the same and joining him. Severus should have sent her away. He should have been embarrassed to have the young woman coddle him, but he was lost in the memories of what he saw when the locket had been opened.

“Ready when you are, Draco,” Remus said after the shield was in place. 

He looked over to his godson and nodded. The boy hesitated for only a moment before letting out a long sigh then thrust the basilisk fang towards the locket. It opened before he touched it, the horcrux obviously sensed the danger it was in. 

The black cloud it emitted began to transform before them. When Severus realized it was a vision of Hermione, he knew that the other two, who were equally horrified, were seeing their own nightmares. Instinctively occluding, Severus was able to keep most of his control. But the horcrux version of Hermione attacked all of his insecurities.

“You really think I would choose you over the Boy Who Lived? Someone young and handsome. A Potter. Lily was right to choose James. Who would want you?” The vision of Hermione reached her hand out to her side and a vision of Potter appeared, wrapping his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck, and sneering at him. The two of them laughed and laughed. 

Severus felt sick and looked away. The visions changed and called to him again. When he looked up it was to see Hermione begging on her knees for him to save her as Voldemort cast a cruciatus curse followed by the killing curse. The vision of the dark wizard grinned as he mocked him, kicking the lifeless form of Hermione, “Another little mudblood, Severus? Your taste is abysmal. You were always going to end up a disappointment. To me. To that old fool, Dumbledore. Now your second little slut goes to her grave while you watch, helpless, useless.” 

Rage coupled with grief were doing their best to take over his mind but he shut his eyes, willing the visions to cease. But when he opened them again it was to see Hermione begging him to let her go. It was like he was holding her down onto his bed but had no control of his limbs. He was trapped inside a body that was forcing itself upon her. The only horrid act he had refused to commit in all his years as a Death Eater. It was a small mercy when the vision dissipated before he was forced to witness an assault on the young woman he cared for as if he were the one enacting it. 

When the Chamber of Secrets flooded into his vision again Severus felt the bond screaming at him to find her. He abandoned the other two who had also suffered the effects of the horcrux and didn’t stop moving until he was wrapped around her with his face in her hair and taking in her comforting scent and touch. If they had been alone he would have wept but her words of comfort were enough to ground him. He knew then and there he loved this wonderful witch and would do anything to have a future with her. 

“Severus, I’m here,” Hermione mumbled sleepily as she turned in his arms and kissed his jaw then buried her face against his shoulder. He pulled her in closer, kissing her temple, then her cheek, and then her lips. Even half asleep she returned his kiss with soft passion and reassurance. He felt her lean back and he hovered over her, deepening the kiss. He basked in her affections, savored the feel of her soft body, and drank in every hitched breath and whimper.

Between kisses, he whispered, “Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.”

When they parted she looked up at him, concerned and loving in a way no one else had ever looked at him. She cupped his cheek and then combed her fingers through his hair before cradling his head against her chest. Shushing him softly, “I’m not going anywhere, Severus. I will do everything to stay with you, I promise.”

—-------------

Severus had finally succumbed to sleep, sprawled half on top of her with his head nestled against her chest. His arm was wrapped around her waist possessively while his legs were entwined with hers. Where he ended and she began was hard to find. She should have been asleep too, relishing the intimacy. Who knew if he would recede into his Professor persona again, or if he would allow himself to indulge the bond further? But she couldn’t. Everything she had learned earlier in the week finally came to the forefront of her mind. 

Hermione wept softly knowing that if the plans in her journals went the way they were written, she would end up leaving him despite her promises. She loved him in that moment as intensely as she hated herself.

Chapter Text

He knew his godfather would probably wring his neck but Draco felt that liquid luck was truly the best accessory to the completely barmy plan they had come up with to trick his psychotic aunt. An ironic chuckle escaped him as he remembered how his mother had promptly taken a dose of the same potion when he had told her what it was. He refocused as he heard the creak of the door and the floorboards as someone entered the cabin. 

“Ickle little Draco has finally come to his senses?” Bellatrix sauntered into the room. Before Draco could respond she hit him with a curse, “Crucio!”

It didn’t feel nearly as bad as it had from his past experiences. When he was finally released from the clutches of the spell, his aunt grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a kneeling position, “If Cissy wasn’t my sister I would kill her for taking you away from your father and the Dark Lord! But look at you, finally growing into your family jewels and coming to me.”

“Yes, Aunt Bella. I didn’t want to go but my mum was insistent! You have to tell the Dark Lord that I’m still loyal to him. I have the information he needs. They trust me now, they say things they shouldn’t around me. Foolish righteous Gryffindors!” Draco responded, trying to embody the darkness he had seen so many others emulate. He was immediately relieved when his aunt didn't suspect him of duplicity.

“What information Draco? I’ll be the one to decide if it's important enough to bring to our Lord. Wouldn’t want to waste his time, now would we, nephew dearest.” Bellatrix released his hair and shoved him away, a sickening smile on her face. She had her crooked and claw-like wand pointed between his brows. 

“T-they are looking for these objects. Dumbledore seems to think it's the key to defeating the Dark Lord. I don’t know how many but they are sure there’s some Hufflepuff cup or something,” He stuttered out, sticking to the script his godfather had come up with.

“What did you say? A cup?” His aunt was never good at keeping her emotions in check and Draco immediately knew that they would get the confirmation they needed. She cackled insanely and screeched, “Ha! Yes, the Dark Lord has entrusted ME with something so important. Those mudblood-loving fools will never be able to take it from me!”

“Aunt Bella…you know about the cup?” Draco asked, urging her to reveal more information. He was nervous but he knew that his godfather and mother were close by if anything went wrong. “Do you know what it is?”

“Of course, I know what it is!” She snapped back defensively. That was the only tell he needed to know that she didn’t. “Do you? Have they found out?”

“A horcrux,” Before Draco could continue Bella gasped in shock. But once she fully processed the information she cackled with glee, practically vibrating.

“HE entrusted me with a part of him! He entrusted ME because he knew that Snape was never to be trusted! I was right! I’ve been right all along and the Dark Lord has rewarded me by giving me a piece of him to protect!” Bella said, as celebratory as a school girl. Draco couldn’t hide the disgust he felt at his aunt’s unbridled glee. But he schooled himself and continued his mission. 

“Where are you keeping it? You have to make sure that no one can get to it! You don’t have it with you do you?” Draco countered knowing that insinuating that Bellatrix would make such a stupid decision would cause her to spout out more than she should. Bellatrix rounded on him, bringing her wand back up to his chin. Her blackened sneer was much too close to his face as she leaned in. 

“You think I would be so stupid! It’s in my vault at Gringotts bank ready for whenever the Dark Lord commands. Soon it will be joined with the diadem…now that I have you, I can have you retrieve it for me,” The dark witch cupped his cheek and Draco fought his instinctual reaction to flinch away from her touch. “You can go to the Come-and-Go Room for me. I saw it there last year. I wanted it for myself back then but now I know I was just drawn to the piece of the Dark Lord inside it. You must go back and get it for me, Draco!”

Draco was trying to process the new information when his mother apparated into the room, disarming her sister with a quick movement. In another moment the dark witch was bound and silenced. “Are you alright Draco?”

“Yes, Mother, did you hear what she said? There’s one in the castle.” He was shaking with adrenaline. Could it be this easy? Were they about to kill two birds with one stone? Surely luck and fate were not suddenly working in their favor.

“Imperio,” The deep voice of his uncle softly intoned, interrupting Draco’s racing thoughts. The plan commenced. “Go back to the castle, both of you. I will let Remus know that I have her and we will handle Gringotts.” 

“Severus, it was risky enough to let you come here, but to go all the way to Gringotts. He has spies looking out for you everywhere,” His mother hissed at his godfather, her manicured hand gripping his forearm. 

“I cannot trust that Remus will be able to maintain the imperius curse for as long as we need it,” the ex-spy responded. A nod to Draco reminded him to pull out the enchanted coin and give Lupin the signal. 

“Mum, let’s go. You insisted on coming even though we planned everything and sat on this plan for weeks. It will be alright,” Draco insisted. He had suggested the plan to his godfather who had refined it with the werewolf. His mother had only found out a few days beforehand and it took allowing her to at least be nearby while he confronted his aunt for her to stop her whinging. 

The regal woman looked worried but turned to his godfather and her now docile sister, “Be safe Severus. You have a lot of people waiting for you to return.” 

There was a crack of apparition as Lupin appeared, nodding to them in turn. “We have a window of half an hour where all of the ‘Thief’s Downfall’ will be ‘out of order’ thanks to Charlie. We have to go now, Severus.”

“See you soon, Godfather,” Draco imparted before he took his mother’s hand and activated the portkey that would take them to the Shrieking Shack.

—-------------------

Hermione had been doing her best to live her daily life as normally as possible. She was present and involved with every class, meeting, and research party regarding the horcruxes. Today was the day that Draco, Severus, and Remus would be implementing their plan to ambush Bellatrix and hopefully get their hands on another horcrux. She could have been more worried about it, and let anxiety derail her until she got news of their success or otherwise. But she had occluded those emotions. 

Harry had been avoiding her to her chagrin. She understood that he felt guilty but considering what destroying the horcrux had done to Severus, it was obvious that the incident between them was a result of Harry wearing the locket for so long. The bond she had with Harry wasn’t as needy as the one she had with Severus but she still felt oddly itchy having not had contact with him in weeks. Truthfully, Hermione was growing increasingly more off-put that Harry, who said he loved her, was having such an easy time avoiding her. Perhaps a part of her was still very much a teenage girl. But this was yet another aspect of her life that she was occluding her emotions about. There was too much to do. 

For weeks she had been studying her journals and notes in the Room of Requirement on her own, late into the night after her classes and other meetings were finished. The plans laid out in the journals were more detailed, thought out, and dark than she could have predicted for herself. It frightened her how much work she had done in the 6 months that she lost. She willed herself to remember all the thoughts that went behind every detail if only so that she could wrap her head around it all.

She now sat in the library in a back corner that she had claimed as her own many times in the years that she had attended Hogwarts. Hermione had been happy to have a moment to herself and work on the homework that had become so insignificant to her as the war raged on. It seemed every day more and more horrors were splashed across the front of the Daily Prophet. It was odd to live half her life as a regular student while the other half made war plans and strategies in the Potions Master’s living quarters.

Reminded once again that Severus was on a dangerous mission she opened her mind to the bond and felt it pulsing strong and unbothered. His liquid magic met her fiery essence and told her that the plans were going off without issue. She closed the bond off again and returned to her studies. Refocusing on the table in front of her she realized someone had joined her while she was lost in thought. 

“Hello, Hermione. How are you?” The ever-ethereal and kind Luna Lovegood sat before her.

“Hello, Luna. I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. How have you been?” Hermione replied. She realized that she hadn’t seen the witch or spoken to her since before the winter holiday and felt guilty for not cultivating the friendship.

“I’ve been well. I spent the winter holiday hunting for snorkaks with my father. He sends his well wishes and says that if you ever need to use the Quibbler again to share anything, he would welcome the change of pace,” Hermione was enthralled by the carefree nature of the younger girl. She recalled seeing some notes about Luna in her journals but had skimmed over them.

“That’s wonderful Luna. I hope your father is handling everything well. I’ve noticed that he has continued to spread unbiased news. I really appreciate the updates on which muggle villages have been attacked. It adds perspective,” Hermione eased herself into the conversation, hoping she could probe the younger girl for more insight into her research.

“I have a feeling that the war will end by the end of this school year,” Luna said with such confidence and nonchalance she might as well have been talking about the weather.

“What makes you say that, Luna?” Hermione asked. The feeling that Luna always knew more than she let on had returned in full force and was supported by her apparent role in her plans.

Luna hummed to herself as she pulled out some of her classwork. Once settled she looked at Hermione again, “You should be getting your memories back soon. You’ll need them to understand your bonds.”

Not sure how to react, Hermione opted for another question, “What bonds are you talking about?”

“I can see them floating around you, changing your aura. You’ve mixed yours with theirs.” Luna mused as she scribbled something in her notes, “I always knew you could handle dark magic. You’re a very powerful witch, Hermione. But witches like us benefit from people underestimating us.”

Wide-eyed Hermione took in her friend like she was a newly discovered form of magical creature that had just shown its face for the first time. “Witches like us? Sorry, Luna, I’m just so confused.” 

“You don't remember, obviously, but we sent posts back and forth all summer about Alchemy. I had told you once at Slughorn’s party that my mother was an alchemist before she died. So when you decided you wanted to try something with it, you asked me,” Luna smiled at Hermione indulgently, “I can help you get your memories back if you like.”

“You helped me…Wait, how would you help me with my memories?” Hermione truly felt like she was in another universe. Never before had she been so confused in such a short amount of time. Luna had helped her with her plans this whole time. 

“Legilimency, silly. But then again you’re not silly you’ve just forgotten. We kept it a secret. I do appreciate you trusting me with your secrets. I’ve never had many friends who wanted me and only me as their secret keeper,” The blonde girl looked incredibly happy to say that and it made Hermione heart ache. 

The longer she talked with the Ravenclaw the more she felt deja vu. Which only made sense considering all the things Luna was saying. Hesitantly she asked, “Can you help me get them back now?” 

“Of course! Let me put up some wards so no one interrupts us in your library,” Luna skipped around the secluded corner, gracefully swishing her wand. Hermione felt the brush of wards around them before Luna sat on the table cross-legged and gestured for her to do the same. Despite the seriousness of everything Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the playful nature and the absurdity of it all. Luna continued as she got comfortable, “Alright, we should hold hands. It will help us stay anchored just in case.”

Hermione grew anxious as the younger girl took her hands and her ice-blue eyes bore into her brown ones. Softly, having noticed Hermione’s nerves, Luna reassured her, “It’s alright. Trust me, like always.”

Hermione did. 

“Legilimens.”

—----------------------

“You should just talk to her, Harry. You’ve been avoiding her so much she’s starting to get mad and she wasn’t mad, to begin with,” Ginny chastised him.

“Gin is right, Harry. Whatever happened between you two couldn’t have been that bad or she would have turned you into a twig or something or abandoned you in the forbidden forest with the centaurs,” Neville pointed out.

 “You don’t get it. What happened was unforgivable,” Harry sighed, sinking deeper into the sofa of the common room. It was a nice day outside and most, if not all, of their classmates were out enjoying the weather. Neville and Ginny had taken it upon themselves to keep him company since he was ‘determined to live the life of a kicked puppy’. 

“If it was so unforgivable then why has she told everyone that she forgives you and isn’t mad at you,” Ginny slid off the arm of the couch and down next to Harry, bumping his shoulder with hers, “She loves you, Harry. She’d forgive you anything.”

“Honestly, Harry. I think you’re being an idiot. If I had someone who loved me as much as Hermione loves you, I wouldn’t wallow in self-pity when she’s already forgiven you,” Neville said, looking off into space, “This war is only going to get worse. You’re both going to be in the middle of it. Wouldn’t you want to enjoy the time you have together now instead of wishing you had it after everything is said and done? There’s no guarantee that any of us are going to survive this. We don’t have the luxury to waste time.”

Harry looked over at the taller boy. They had all grown up together and Neville had probably changed the most out of all of them. He had become a tall and strong-looking gentle giant. The anxiety and fear that had chased his fellow Gryffindor seemed to have shed from him to be replaced by a stable calm. Harry could see how this young man could have been the other ‘Chosen One’. “You’re right, Neville. I need to go talk to her.”

“Then get the map and find her! Come on Neville. I think he’s finally come to his senses,” Ginny was grinning as she offered her hand to the shy boy and pulled him along. Harry had no idea where they were going but he liked the idea of the two of them together. Without wasting another moment, Harry ran up to his dorm to retrieve the Marauder’s Map.

It wasn’t long before he was running up flights of stairs to catch up to Hermione who seemed to be making her way to the seventh floor. Taking a shortcut he appeared right in her path and was ill-prepared for the way his friend barrelled into him, toppling them both over. With agility he didn’t know she had, she rolled into a crouching position and had her wand pointed at him. 

“Oh! Harry!” Realizing it was him, she tucked her wand away and then helped him stand. She kept his hand held in hers as he dusted himself off. When he finally looked at her and saw that there was no anger or fear in her eyes, the relief was instant. Before he could think of anything else he wrapped her in his arms in a tight hug that she returned. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione. For everything. For what happened at Grimmauld. For wearing the locket. For ignoring you. It was all so stupid but I can’t be away from you anymore. Who knows what will happen during this war!” Harry pulled back enough to look down at her face. He didn’t realize he had tears falling down his cheeks, “I love you, Hermione. I know you love me too. The way you forgave me so quickly is proof enough. But please don’t be angry at me for taking so long to catch up and realize that everything between us is ok.”

She paused, her brow furrowing at the sudden outpouring of emotions. Then her brow began to smooth as she comprehended his hasty words. Hermione looked at him as if she might cry then pulled him to her in a tight embrace, showering him with kisses to his neck, cheek, and temple. Then she pulled back and held his face in her hands. “I’m always going to be with you, Harry. No matter what happens between us. No matter what we have to face. Bond or no bond. You were my first friend and I’ll never forget that.” 

Then she kissed him. It was more passionate and hungry than any kiss she had ever bestowed upon him or him on her. She pressed herself against him, nipping at his lip and carding her fingers through his hair. He groaned, feeling the bond between them releasing tension in his shoulders. Between kisses he repeated his love and care for her, letting her lead this amorous moment. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ll never hurt you. I promise. I love you. Hermione, I love you.”

So distracted was he that he didn’t notice how she maneuvered them through a doorway and into a deserted classroom. His hand tugged lightly at the hair at the base of her neck, tilting her as he deepened the kiss. The feel of her tongue and lips was euphoric after spending the recent weeks thinking that he would never taste them again. When the backs of his thighs hit a desk and he sat heavily on it, Hermione finally pulled back. Both of them were out of breath and a wide grin appeared on his face. 

“Wow.” Harry saw the ardor in Hermione’s face shift into something indecipherable. She took a few steps back. Harry tried to reach for her and continue what they had started but he found his hands had been affixed to the desk he sat upon with a sticking charm. “What? Hermione, why did you do that?”

When he looked up Hermione wore a determined face. Her voice was steely and remorseful, “It will be your turn to forgive me, Harry. I know where the next horcrux is and I’m going to go and destroy it. Severus is out of the castle and so is Remus. They are the only ones I would trust to be there with me. There is no doubt in my mind now that there is a piece of the Dark Lord inside of you and if you’re too close when I destroy it, I’m afraid of what it might do to you.”

“No! You can’t do it on your own! Just wait for them to come back. I don’t care if I can’t be there while you do it but at least bring someone with you! You saw what it did to them when we destroyed the locket! Draco still has nightmares about what he saw. Sirius said that Remus almost couldn’t control Mooney the last time he turned because a bit of the dark magic was still affecting him!” Harry tried to make her understand the danger she was putting herself in. He pulled at his arms, trying to budge against the spell. Trying to find even a bit of give, but her spell work was solid. Huffing in frustration he looked back up to see Hermione moving further away. 

“It will be quick. Severus has the fangs and will be able to destroy the cup. If I get rid of the diadem tonight as well then that just leaves the snake and you, Harry. We can’t let this war go on much longer.” Hermione was vehement as she backed out of the room. “I’ll come back when I’m done. I promise.”

With that Hermione shut the door and warded Harry inside with his hands stuck to the desk. He knew no one would be able to hear him. So he resigned himself to waiting even as a sick feeling wedged itself in his stomach. The worst was that the bond didn’t seem to be all that bothered by Hermione running into danger head-on. It felt ecstatic. Or maybe that wasn’t the bond at all.

—-------------

Hermione ran the last few flights of stairs and corridors until she was once more in front of the Room of Requirement summoning the Room of Lost Things. Luna, the insane genius that she is, knew exactly what Ravenclaw relic Voldemort had used as a horcrux. The diadem. A lost diadem that she had seen on the way to her lost journals. 

She raced through the stacks of chairs and piles of half-melted cauldrons until she saw it, looped around the leg of an overturned stool, atop a pile at least 5 meters high. Hermione considered what to do. She had a fang that she could stab it with. But after seeing what proximity to a horcrux had done to the others she didn’t want to risk it. With no Gryffindor sword coming to her aid she turned to her last resort.  

In that cavernous and cluttered room, Hermione pointed her wand at Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem and yelled, “Fiendfyre!”

Like a rolling pack of animals and demons, the fire burst forth in a canon-like shot straight for the diadem. As she expected the fire devoured the circlet. From its burning remains a dark cloud erupted, writhing through the air like a living being and casting a heavy presence on the entire room. But the fiendfyre’s hunger was relentless as it chased down every spec of the dark cloud. The horrific wail as the soul fragment was destroyed made her whole body break out in goosebumps despite the momentary triumph. But her relief was short-lived as the fire ignited the pile of broken furniture and spread. With every cancellation spell failing as Hermione ran through the maze of objects, she began to truly panic. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Hermione yelled at herself for being so reckless. The fire had quickly circled her. Aiming one more word of hatred at herself, the young woman grabbed a broomstick as she ran and mounted it. As the broom sped and jerked she feared she might fall into the very inferno she was trying to escape. She couldn’t spot the door and willed the room to create an exit for her. To her left a wide window appeared. With all her willpower, Hermione directed the broom towards the window, shielded her face with one arm, and smashed through the glass into the light of the setting sun. 

Her old fear of flying took hold as the broom continued to malfunction, speeding up and jerking left and right. She couldn’t stop her screams of terror as she was jettisoned across the grounds, past the tree line, and crash-landed in the Forbidden Forest. She couldn’t hold back the shriek of pain as she broke her leg in her tumble to the bramble and root of the forest floor.  Dazed and discombobulated, Hermione took a moment to survey her injuries and take in her surroundings. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? A snack?” The gravelly voice made the blood stop cold beneath Hermione’s skin. Adrenaline kicked in as she turned on to her back with her wand at the ready. The hulking beast of a man lunged at her, “None of that!”

Unbridled terror took over as Hermione recognized the ugly visage of Fenrir Greyback as he held her down, tossing her wand away across the forest floor. Voldemort must have had some of his men watching the castle at all times. She tried and failed to push or kick him off. When his clawed hand wrapped around her throat she swiftly began occluding as much of her fear as she could. 

“Aren’t you the little mudblood whose pussy is so sweet even old Severus was swayed by it? Maybe I should get a taste. See what all the fuss is about,” Fenrir licked a long line from her chin, along her jaw, and up her cheek. When he ground his hips against hers she felt the proof of his sick arousal. She gagged.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Hermione spat in the mutt’s face only for him to bring the back of his hand hard across her cheek. She saw stars as pain exploded from temple to temple. 

“I love the disobedient ones. Breaking them is much more satisfying,” His chuckle was inhuman. Fenrir’s expression turned into one of perverse delight, “But I know the Dark Lord has been hoping to get his hands on you in particular. I hope he doesn’t kill you before I get a chance to have my fun. I’d like Severus to be reminded of all the dark revels he sat on the sidelines for.”

A chill ran up Hermione’s spine but she shoved the fear away. She closed her fist and thought of Severus, knowing it would be too late for him to save her, but needing him to know anyway. The ring warmed just as Fenrir pulled her up by her collar. Hermione knew that this may be the end for her but she would not allow the evil despot to discover their secrets and plans. Swiftly she sank into deep occlusion just as she felt the pull of apparition in the back of her stomach. 

—------------------

Dumbledore watched from his disillusioned spot in the forest. He had been on the grounds when he felt the destruction in the Room of Requirement. He witnessed the overzealous Gryffindor Princess fly straight into the Forbidden Forest, and he followed, shielding himself from detection. Moving at a speed that no one would expect from him, he found Fenrir and his men lurking, feasting upon a felled doe. He had known the werewolf pack had been roaming around the castle but felt that keeping the danger close would help him to instill the fear in his people that was necessary for them to follow him without question. It was the same reason he allowed more attacks on muggles to go on without intervention. 

Silently, he circled the werewolves and willed them to look up just as Miss Granger careened above them and deeper into the forest. Fenrir ran off with Dumbledore following closely behind. He cast a tripping spell as the girl fell off the broom, breaking her leg as she came down on a boulder. When Fenrir lunged at her, the Headmaster cast a quick expelliarmus that had her wand flying out of reach. The forest grew silent once more as the wolves disapparated, to follow their alpha to the Dark Lord. 

“You will be a martyr yet, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore hummed to himself as he made his way back to the castle, chewing happily on a piece of gum as he went.

Chapter Text

They were entering Gringotts when he felt her reach for the bond, no doubt checking in on him. Severus let his magic meet hers for a moment before occluding further, he needed to focus on the task at hand. His sole focus had to be the Imperius curse he still held over Bellatrix and the retrieval of the cup from the impenetrable fortress that was Gringotts Bank. For the next hour or so he kept his Occlumency walls shuttered tight and his mind locked in on his immediate surroundings. 

Something was smashing against his mental barriers when they had finally retrieved the cup. Once safely away from the bank, Severus lowered his protection and was accosted by the rolling fiery touch of Hermione’s magic mixed with something sickly and sharp. His protectiveness kicked in and he sent his magic to meet hers across the bond and the lightness and comfort seemed to engulf the sickly interloper until it was no more. Before he could think further Remus reminded them that they needed to deal with Bellatrix. Once more enforcing his occlusion while feeling anxiety roll in, Severus continued with the last phase of their plan. 

They left Bellatrix with a memory block in a muggle homeless shelter somewhere in France. It had been taxing for him to master the technique, and magically grueling to implement such a complete block of her wizarding life, but it bought them time. Bella couldn’t ask for help with the block if she never realized there was a block to begin with. He only hoped his plan was as solid as it seemed because he had other things to worry about.  

He let his Occlusion fallback enough for the bond to surface and it did with such force it made his heart stutter. The once comforting blaze of magic now surged like a river of lava. Flashes of panic and fear were soon echoed by the warming of his ring. Severus immediately shut away the anxiety that had erupted at Hermione’s call for help through the ring and the state of the bond. He did not want to waste time on the well of guilt that opened like a chasm in his chest. How long had she been suffering while he had closed the connection between them? How much time did he have left to find her and save her? He turned to his companion, “Remus, we have to go back to Hogwarts now!”

Remus pocketed the pouch that held the Hufflepuff cup and looked at him worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened to Hermione,” Severus grabbed the werewolf’s wrist impatiently. With a turn, he apparated them to the Shrieking shack. Before Remus could ask anything of him, Severus was running down into the tunnel to make his way back to the castle. He did not wait to see if the werewolf followed. The blazing inferno of the bond ebbed away while his guilt churned at not sensing the turmoil sooner. He reached for the bond and felt the family touch of her magic but it was faint, nearly nonexistent, a sign of her descent into occlusion. Dread suffused his every thought as he raced into the castle. 

He stumbled feeling a sharp pain in his chest that was all too familiar. Severus occluded further. He would not allow himself to succumb to the pain when he knew she was the one truly suffering through it. Thinking of the night they spent together holding each other in his bed, Severus sent off not one, not two, but three patronus. He summoned Draco and his Mother, as well as the Weasleys and then Harry to his quarters.  If he were not so panicked he would have cared more that his patronus had taken on a new form. 

“Severus?” Remus had caught up to him and was staring wide-eyed at the spot where the last patronus had hovered before it too ran off to send its message. “What’s happened?”

“She’s not in the castle. I’ve called everyone to my quarters. Come, we cannot waste any more time,” Severus said, forcing his voice not to waiver. He led the way back to his quarters, taking a passageway that was dusty with disuse as he hadn’t walked it since it had been repaired.

Severus and Remus had barely entered his quarters when he felt someone passing through his wards. With a swift flick of his wand, his door opened to allow Draco and Narcissa through, closely followed by the younger Weasleys. 

“Uncle! We can’t find Harry or Hermione!” Draco was frantic with worry. 

“I knew Harry was going to try and talk to Hermione so we thought that they might just be somewhere private,” Ginny said, standing behind the couch. “But no one’s seen either of them for ages.”

“The bond has been restless and she sent notice to me that she was in danger. I can barely feel her magic through the bond,” Severus’s voice was grave.

“Do you think it could be Harry again, Severus?” Remus’ frown deepened. 

“He doesn’t have a horcrux this time and from the way he’s been wallowing in his guilt, I don’t think he would fall prey to darkness like that again,” He opened his mind to the bond once more and found a solid block from Hermione’s end. “Fuck, she’s in deep occlusion.” 

Ron Weasley seemed to be the first to recover from his shock at seeing the normally controlled Professor having such an outburst, “You don’t think she’s left the castle, do you?”

“Not willingly.” He reached out to the bond again, trying and failing to feel her essence. If the bond were not there he would think her presence had disappeared completely. 

“Ron, does Harry still have the map?” Remus rounded on the students.

“It’s probably with him, Remus. He was going to use it to find Hermione. She’s been disappearing somewhere to study for the last few weeks. We know how she likes quiet and with everything else going on we were giving her space,” Ginny admitted, looking abashed for not making sure she knew where her friend was. 

“You’ve checked everywhere?” Remus pushed.

“We’ve checked everywhere. Harry and Hermione might not be here at Hogwarts at all,” Narcissa's voice was soft with reticence. 

“Fuck! I sent Potter a Patronus. It would have found him no matter where he was. If he’s being held captive, whether by a  Death Eater or the Dark Lord himself, they know that we know he’s gone. We’ve lost the element of surprise!” Severus growled and turned away from the group to try and reign himself in.

“Severus, we should contact Lucius. If they have either of them then he would know,” Narcissa appeared at his side. 

“No, we need to tell Dumbledore,” Severus loathed getting the old bastard involved but if anyone could tell if Potter was still somewhere in the castle the headmaster would know. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the soft look on Hermione’s face when she kissed him on the astronomy tower, “Expecto Patronum! Albus, Hermione, and Potter are missing. We will be in your office momentarily.” 

“Severus, your patronus…” Narcissa had her hand covering her mouth in awe, “When?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only had to cast it today. The last time it was still a doe,” Severus gritted out, quelling the emotions that came with the image of the glowing and happy otter. He shook his head and in front of everyone he donned his usual aggressive persona, “Come! The floo will be open by now.”

Without further ado, Severus took a handful of Floo Powder and entered the hearth. The last thought before he appeared in Dumbledore’s office was a hope that Hermione wouldn’t need the headmaster’s help, help that she might not receive. 

—---------------

Harry stood frozen and involuntarily immobile, staring at the door that Hermione had shut behind her. She had played him, easily. He couldn’t truly blame her for doing it. If the roles were reversed Harry probably would have done the same thing. That didn’t mean he wasn’t simultaneously angry and heartbroken. Was that kiss even real or just a way to distract me? She said she loved me. No! She’s never once said she loves you. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t! The girl you love is going to try and destroy a Horcrux on her own! It does not matter if she feels the same. You love her and you protect the people you love.

He could feel his magic flare up with his emotions. As he tried and failed to release the sticking charm he cursed his laziness when it came to wandless magic. Hermione had been pushing him to practice and he had kept making excuses and getting distracted. Now he would be stuck until the charm wore off. By then it would be too late. 

The bond made itself known, warming his arms and pulsing like a living thing beneath his skin. A sense of foreboding came over him. This wasn’t good. With his fear for Hermione’s safety multiplying by the minute, he tried again to free himself. His right hand shifted a few millimeters which told him the spell may already be wearing off. But who knew what would have happened to Hermione by that time?  Harry roared in frustration. Remus and Snape were still out and he didn’t know if Draco and his mum were back yet. 

The feeling of being utterly useless was so abhorrent to him. After all this time, the things he had survived, he would not be held back because of a sticking charm. Taking a deep breath to center himself, closed his eyes, and focused on his hands. Finite

The relief of his skin lifting off of the top of the desk was short-lived as a patronus flew through the air and up to his face. The sight of the otter would have been a relief if it hadn’t been the Potions Master’s voice that left its mouth. “Potter, I have reason to believe Miss Granger is in danger. I’ve called a meeting in my quarters. Come at once.” 

If there was anyone to witness his pallor losing color, they would think he was a ghost. Something had happened to Hermione but no one else knew that she went off to destroy a horcrux on her own. But nearly equally horrible, was the realization that the greasy bat of the dungeons genuinely loved Hermione. Induced feelings from the bond could never change the form of a Patronus, only true feelings could. The jealousy grew in a dark part of his mind, the one he now recognized was the dark magic Voldemort had left inside him. Harry Potter, you rein that shit in right now! Hermione needs you and you are going to save her even if it means working with Snape. 

Harry tried to control his breathing and noticed that his magic had lashed out, overturning desks and chairs. He looked to the door knowing that, on any other day he would not be able to break through Hermione’s wards, but in a great sweeping motion he blasted the door open. He felt the wards shatter around him from the force of his magic. It dazed him, the power that had rushed out so easily, even as dizziness clouded his vision from the overexertion. Harry gripped the desk behind him as his magic seemed to twitch and sizzle around him in anticipation, a feeling he’d only felt in moments of magical outbursts. But as he finally took a step across the barrier his scar exploded with pain that brought him to his knees. Harry grabbed at his head, feeling like he might be torn in half by whatever was trying to rip through his forehead. A vision took over his senses. 

“Fenrir, I must say I am impressed. I was growing weary of disciplining your mutts for not bringing me Severus. But this, this is almost as sweet of a prize,” The raspy voice of Voldemort was speaking somewhere above his head. 

Harry recalled the attack on Arthur Weasley and knew instantly that he was connecting with the snake. He felt the snake slither across a marble floor and up a dais to rest along the evil wizard’s feet. When the snake eyes looked back across the room fear took hold of him. 

Hermione was laid out, unconscious on the floor in front of the raging fireplace. Her leg was bent at an unnatural angle and her lip was split. Harry could hear Voldemort but couldn’t understand him with the roaring of blood in his ears. Then he noticed the ugly visage of Fenrir as he fisted Hermione’s hair and dragged her across the room, dumping her at the base of the dais right in front of the snake that was currently Harry’s eyes. 

“You’re looking rather eager, Fenrir. Don’t worry. I will break her mind but you can break her body when I’m done with her. But I do hope you keep her alive long enough for Severus to watch her die in front of him,” The callous laughter from the dark wizard would have sent a shiver down his spine if he had truly been in the room. 

“I’ll make sure to show Severus the proper way to use a mudblood whore. It will be a treat to also claim her from Lupin’s pack,” Fenrir snarled in a way that would have been a chuckle of amusement if he were a normal man. 

With each threat to Hermione’s future, Harry grew more angry and more afraid. He was desperate to move, to help her, to take control of this thrice-damned snake and devour the Death Eater and his master himself. 

“Reenervate,” The effect of Voldemort’s spell was instant as Hermione’s eyes opened. The groggy haze of unconsciousness faded from her eyes in a moment as they darted around. Then she winced and groaned as the pain of her injuries took over. Harry watched, seething as Hermione levitated in front of the cult leader. “Miss Hermione Granger, most valuable mudblood on the side of Dumbledore. What secrets do you keep? You made me quite angry by taking one of my best. But it seemed he was never mine to lose. However, I’ll take pleasure in making sure he loses you.”

To Harry’s horror, his best friend stared down Voldemort with defiance. Her eyes seemed to shift and close off like she was folding in her reactions and emotions and leaving only the bare minimum to function. 

The Dark Lord stood and Harry felt the snake move away to curl around the side of the throne, watching the humans, “Before I let Fenrir have his way, let’s see what Albus has falsely entrusted you with. Legilimens!” 

The nightmarish scream that rented the air was the last thing Harry heard.

—------------------

Dumbledore had been frustratingly nonchalant as his godfather tried and failed to instill the severity of the issue into the old man.

“Severus, I can assure you that Mister Potter is still within the castle. Hogwarts would have informed me if he was to leave the premises. As for Miss Granger, she has been known to pursue her plans, as you are well aware,” The old wizard seemed to love goading his Godfather for his amusement.

“If you won’t help us find Hermione, then locate Harry for us, Albus. We have reason to believe they were together before she disappeared,” Lupin had managed to stay calm, but only by a thread if Draco took the man’s shaking fists as an indicator. 

The headmaster seemed to acquiesce as he stood and placed a hand on a square of bare wall behind him. The silence was tense as the wizard closed his eyes, seemingly communicating with the castle. The long moment passed and then he turned back to the audience of students and Order members. 

“Well?” Dracco asked, unable to hold back. 

“Harry is on the fifth floor. It seems he’s been locked in a room,” Dumbledore rounded his desk and headed for the office door. Belatedly he turned and said, “Miss Granger is not with him.”

Draco felt a wave of loathing directed at the so-called great wizard when it became obvious that he only cared that Potter was being held somewhere and not that Hermione remained missing. Without a word, the wizard swept from the room with the rest of them in tow. The look on his godfather’s face was one of barely controlled rage and he could not fault him for it. 

Lupin, his mother, and the Potions Master followed closely behind Dumbledore, leaving Draco to trail behind them with the Weasleys.

“What do you think, mate? You think someone managed to take her? You destroyed the two-way cupboard at the end of last year so how would a Death Eater get in?” Ron whispered a quick aside even though the Order members were focused on their own murmured conversation. 

“No, you’re right. I made sure the cupboard was destroyed last year. I think Hermione was the one who locked Potter in whatever room he’s stuck in,” Draco said. He fully believed that Hermione had not been taken from inside the castle. The fight she would have put up would not have gone unnoticed. 

“I think you’re right. But that would mean she left the castle on her own,” Ginny chimed in, worry marring her brow.

“I don’t think it was something planned. She knew we were going for the cup today. I assumed that Hermione would be waiting anxiously for Uncle’s return,” He had honestly pictured the girl waiting for their arrival in the Shrieking Shack when he and his mother had returned and had been disappointed when she hadn’t met his expectations. 

“How do you think Snape knows she’s in danger? I mean, just because we can’t find her doesn’t mean she’s with a Death Eater, right?” Ron’s voice was shaky between breaths as they trekked up the numerous stairs to the fifth floor. 

“They have these rings. Like the DA galleons she made. If either of them has to alert each other that the bond is retaliating from lack of contact the rings warm and glow. It was her Christmas gift to Uncle. It’s come in handy before. She must have activated hers before he came back to the castle,” Draco explained. 

“But there’s no way to know if it’s just her needing something to do with the bond or if she’s actually in danger?” Ginny twirled her wand in her hand nervously. 

“No,” Draco intoned softly, anxiety palpable. They were making their way up the last flight of stairs when his Uncle stopped in his tracks and turned abruptly, grabbing Lupin by the forearm and dragging him down the stairs. When he reached Draco his eyes were desperate. 

“Weasleys, continue up to the fifth floor,” Severus barked at the gingers who obediently followed though they glanced back several times before his mother urged them on, nodding at him to follow his godfather. 

When the group hit the landing and turned a corner Severus gasped and fell to his knees clutching his chest with one arm while Remus tried to take on the taller man’s weight. “Uncle! What’s wrong?”

Severus jerked violently, almost toppling down the stairs with Draco and Lupin in tow. His groan was muffled but his grimace of pain gave him away. 

“Hermione…cruciatus…” Severus choked out between spasms. Draco tried to help the taller man up from the floor but another seizure of pain forced him back to his knees. 

Draco pulled out his wand, thinking quickly, he knocked Severus unconscious and levitated his twitching body. “We have to get him to the hospital wing! I-if it’s anything like it was last time his magical core will be drained, not as fast as Hermione but still…with the way the bond is now, it is still a mutual connection even if it’s lopsided. We just have to hope that she can’t pull from his core as quickly as he did hers.” 

Lupin’s mouth was pursed in a grim frown. Draco turned, intent on getting his godfather to Madam Pomfrey while the werewolf cast a patronus to catch up to the others. 

“Tell my mum to get to the hospital wing as fast as she can!” He called over his shoulder, trusting that the former professor would soon follow.

—-----------------

Thrust back into awareness in his own body he slumped against the wall surrounded by the debris of the doorway he had blasted through moments ago. He had barely picked himself off the floor when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps. At the end of the corridor, led by Dumbledore, were Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Malfoy. 

Harry stumbled as he rushed to meet the group halfway, “He has her! He has Hermione! It was some big manor with marble floors and a fireplace! Voldemort is already rooting through her mind!”

“Calm down, my boy. Are you alright?” Dumbledore looked down at him, concern plaguing his visage but his eyes were empty. 

“Professor, I’m fine but if we don’t hurry he’ll kill her! He said he was going to let Fenrir Greyback have his way with her!” Harry yelled, vehemently trying to get the old man to understand how dire the situation was. 

“Harry, you’ve been through a lot. Where have you been? Everyone has been looking for you,” The Headmaster pressed on as if Harry wasn’t screaming in his face in desperation. 

“Sod that, Dumbledore! Hermione could be dying right now! It doesn’t bloody matter where he’s been. We need to know where to go!” Ron scowled, coming up to Harry and gripping his friend’s shoulder in support. 

“Now, Mister Weasley, must I remind you what happened the last time you all went off running to save someone without confirming that what Harry saw wasn’t simply a bad dream?” Dumbledore raised a brow and his eyes were steely as he looked at the two young men. 

Ron seemed to lose some of his fight after that. Harry also winced, remembering how they had all nearly died when they rushed off to the Department of Mysteries in fifth year. But Harry pressed on. “Professor, this time was different! I know it was!”

“Harry I cannot let you go wherever you think Tom may be. You have a role in this war. Once we can confirm what you saw the Order will handle the rescue. If Miss Granger needs rescuing,” The sternness had been replaced by a false caring that made Harry’s skin crawl. 

“We have to contact my husband then. He’ll be able to tell us if it’s true. The Dark Lord has been using Malfoy Manor as a headquarters for months and our ballroom has marble floors,” Mrs. Malfoy interrupted the battle of wills between them and the Headmaster. But before anything else could be said the misty loping form of a wolf patronus padded toward the group. 

“Hermione is being tortured, Severus can feel it.  His magical core is draining. Narcissa, we need you.”

—---------------------------

Hermione sat at her desk in her mind library. She had a vague awareness of the outside world where her body was racked with pain. Distantly she could also feel as her occlumency walls were hit with the battering ram of Voldemort’s legilimency. She’d talked to Severus about this before, how dangerous deep occlusion could be the longer it was implemented. But she had no other choice. There was no way that the evil snake could learn how far they had come to end his reign forever.

With a sigh that felt inappropriately nonchalant considering what was happening, Hermione lifted one of the books on the desk and flipped to a page that contained the memories of her childhood. She sank into the familiar warmth of her parents and their love. Love that was a shield to the pain that may well bring about her end. 

A part of her was satisfied knowing that Voldemort would learn far too late that all his backup plans had been thwarted. He would not learn any of it from her. She would rather lose her mind than allow him entry into her sanctuary. 

A memory of Severus came to mind of its own accord. 

“Deep occlusion is dangerous, but you’re right, it may be the only way to keep your knowledge safe if you’re ever captured,” Severus sipped from a glass of firewhiskey, looking grim at the prospect. 

They were in his chambers, doing the smart thing and coming up with contingency plans, as horrifying as the scenarios they were coming up with could be. She sat on the sofa, her favorite spot, tucked against the arm with her legs folded beneath her. Hermione had only meant to stop by and ask him some questions about occlumency techniques, but the conversation had run on longer and deeper than expected. 

Hermione looked up when Severus moved away from his place at the mantle and sat beside her. He hesitated for a moment, indecisive, until he met her gaze and took her hand. Severus’s low tone rumbled through them in the quiet of his chambers, “Hermione, promise me something?”

She tilted her head, surprised at the vulnerability in his eyes. Her small hand gripped his, “What is it?”

He swallowed thickly, “If there is ever a time you must face the Dark Lord and he attempts to break into your mind, use the bond. Pull from my magical core to fortify yourself.”

Hermione tried to protest but he lifted a hand to stop her. Gently, reverently, he took her by the chin and met her gaze. The tone of his voice silenced any arguments she had left, “You are not strong enough to fight him off, but with my magic you can hold on long enough for us to find you; because if that ever should come to pass, I will stop at nothing to find you.”

His dark eyes bore into hers and his thumb caressed her bottom lip, “Promise me, you will put your mind and safety first. Magical core be damned.” 

“Severus! We don’t know how quickly I would siphon your magic–”

“No, Hermione. It doesn’t matter. If you are facing the Dark Lord, alone. Promise me you will remember this moment and not fight the bond or my magic when it comes to your aid.” He pushed back. 

She closed her eyes for a long moment, and when she opened them she nodded, “I promise.”

Hermione ignored the barrage against her library walls and concentrated on the liquid heat of his magic around the bond. As she took a slow steadying breath, his magic seeped in, sliding up the walls and around the books, fortifying, strengthening her surroundings. The battering of the outer walls became more muted. She allowed herself a sigh of relief. Quietly, to herself, “Hold on, Hermione. Just hold on.”

Chapter Text

Severus knew that Narcissa would be strong enough to enact Healer’s Bain again but he prayed she wouldn’t have to. He had more magic in his core than Hermione and hoped that the draining of it would not be so fast. His own torture under his former comrades had been vicious. What he was feeling was a shadow of the calculated mental assault that Voldemort favored when he wanted to keep his victim physically alive but mentally suffering. Were she not occluding so deeply, the pain would have been worse.

The bond was there, dimmed, but solid. She was trying to protect him. It had come up in recent weeks as they researched the bonds. Together they had gone over the differences in how they experienced it. The fiery feel of Hermione’s magic versus the dark liquid warmth of his own. They had examined memories of when she had reacted to his torture. Hermione had feared that if she were ever hurt as badly that he would feel it too. 

Then he recalled how he had heard her shout his location in his head. She had found him and determined he was alive using the bond somehow. Even as his body flailed with each bout of phantom cruciatus, he curled his magic around the bond, seeking her out. But the wall of her deep occlusion was solid. 

Hermione! Please, you have to let me in! Let me help you. Please!

There was no response. When a few minutes passed without another shocking attack, he knew the Dark Lord had ceased for the time being. The idea of her alone, suffering under the demon’s hand brought forth a protective rage he was all too familiar with. He tried to sit up and was unceremoniously shoved back onto the hospital bed by both shoulders, Poppy to his left and Narcissa to his right. 

“Stay down. He’s stopped, for now. We have to restore your magical stores while we can. Who knows how long the next bout will last,” Narcissa’s voice was harsh and focused. Severus was grateful to have such a resilient witch nearby as his confidence waned.

“Professor? Is she still alive?” Potter appeared, looking angry and desperate. The rest of the room that was bustling with the rag-tag group all stopped, waiting for his response.

He croaked, wincing at the rawness of his throat, “Yes.”

“Voldemort has her; we don’t know how but I saw it! Like the attack on Mr. Weasley!” Potter was shooting off spontaneous sparks of magic with his harried emotions.

“Albus?” Severus asked, turning his head sluggishly to survey the room. The absence of the headmaster proved to him that his worries had come to fruition. Albus would not help Hermione. 

“He won’t let us go! He says he has to confirm it first. Doesn’t want to risk it after what happened in fifth year,” Ginny appeared looking like she was fighting back tears.

Damn you, Albus! Now you believe in proper procedure?! An aftershock shot through him and made him wince. He gasped, “Where is he now?”

“His office, apparently,” Potter bit out, the venom in his voice surprising but not unwarranted.

Despite everyone’s protests, Severus sat up, growling at anyone who attempted to stop him. He grabbed the boy by the collar. Looking at Potter suspiciously he questioned him, “You were with her before she disappeared. Did she tell you anything?”

“She said she was going to destroy a horcrux! A diadem. I would have never let her do it on her own! I even told her to wait until you and Remus came back. But she tricked me,” Potter didn’t sound angry like Severus had expected, instead he sounded defeated. He knew how stubborn and cunning their Gryffindor Princess was. Potter stood no chance. 

“Did she mention where it was?” Remus took the young man by his shoulders, speaking gently. “I know she’s been doing her research. Do you have any idea at all what she found?”

“Hermione had said something yesterday about figuring out the Ravenclaw relic since you and Snape were handling the Hufflepuff cup,” Potter looked at Remus then back at him. 

“Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem,” Draco chuckled, despite the situation, “Of course Granger manages to find an item that has been lost for centuries. Wait! Bella said something about the Room of Requirement. She wanted me to get something for her!”

“Then it’s true that she found it. But if it was in the castle how did she ever end up leaving the grounds?” Narcissa muttered. “Draco, Remus, Mister, and Miss Weasley, considering the current circumstances I think it wise that we move in groups. You should check the Room of Requirement. See if you can find any clues.”

“I’ll go with you,” Severus replied, moving to stand but was thwarted by a sticking charm from Madam Pomfrey. 

“No, you will stay right here. Narcissa and I have to monitor you if the…torture starts again,” The older witch reminded him. 

Severus snarled at the medi-witch who was unphased by his recalcitrance; years of healing him had allowed her to grow a tolerance. There was a bit of shuffling as Draco led the way out of the hospital wing to see what they could find out. Seeing that he was stable for now, Madam Pomfrey and Narcissa went into the Medi-witch’s office but kept her door open. 

Now that the aftershocks had abated he felt right as rain but Poppy was right. It wouldn’t do for him to become once more incapacitated when the others were running a small task. He hoped there were more clues to the whereabouts of Hermione. It was only his occlusion that was keeping him from rushing off like a beheaded chicken. As long as you can feel the bond, it means she’s alive. The Dark Lord would want to kill her in front of you or Potter. He wouldn’t waste that opportunity. He ignored the part of him that raged at the very idea of her death. 

Remembering the Boy Who Lived, he turned his head and saw that the young man had his back to the room as he looked out the window. It was fully dark now and a crescent moon hung in the sky. He could see Potter’s hands and shoulders shaking. 

“Potter. Loathe I to say it, but it will do no good to beat yourself up over her disappearance. We have all learned that the girl is more stubborn than an ox and 1000x more clever,” Severus said, closing his eyes, intending to organize his thoughts in his mind. His years of severe control were being put to good use as he compartmentalized his roiling emotions.

“Why won’t he help her?” The voice of the young man was more broken than he had ever heard it. Severus couldn’t stop the wave of pity he felt for the reluctant hero. Regardless of their romantic feelings for the same witch, the boy truly wasn’t that bad. Once years had proven that Potter had only inherited his father’s face and hair, Severus had felt better about choosing to protect him. He had seen the arrogance of youth teach the boy through failures and successes but he had never seen him bully or demean anyone just for the fun of it. That alone was leagues ahead of his sire. Lily would have been proud. But she would also be horrified at the life her son had lived until now. The ex-spy had not allowed himself to dwell too much on the very real possibility that Harry Potter must die to end the war.

“His reasoning is somewhat sound, unfortunately. It would likely end in catastrophe if you were to barge into the Manor, wands blazing, with no plan in sight,” Severus wasn’t normally one for soft platitudes but he knew that whatever panic he was feeling was multiplied several times over in the youth. This would be a turning point for the young man. The reality of war was hitting even closer to home and in his time of need, Dumbledore was an obstacle rather than an aid. “It is a hard truth for you to learn today, Potter, that Albus’s main priority is you and you alone. The loss of bystanders was never calculated into his plan and never will be.”

“But this is Hermione! She’s more than half of the reason why I’m still around for him to show off like some trophy,” Potter turned and Severus could see the angry tears. Crying women was hard enough to deal with but a crying teenage boy with anger issues was something else entirely. “She’s in Malfoy Manor right now! He’s probably ripping through her mind as we speak.”

“No,” Severus interrupted the building rant, “She is in deep occlusion. I can feel it. The Dark Lord will not be able to retrieve any information but the longer she stays in that state, the harder it will be to pull her consciousness back to the surface.”

“Hermione can occlude?” The boy’s jaw dropped.

Severus’s brow raised in confusion. “You didn’t know she could?”

“Did you teach her?” The question was tinged with accusation. Severus remembered the catastrophe of their lessons on the subject and how it had. 

“I didn’t have to. Truthfully, I was impressed that she could and to the extent that she is able. If she weren’t such an insufferable swot I might have thought someone taught her. Being self-taught seemed like the only possible answer as the only ones with any accomplishment in mind magic in the entirety of the UK, are the Headmaster and myself,” Severus answered, looking away from the younger man. Suspicions arose as he recalled just how perfect her occluding was. Maybe she had been taught and his affection for the girl had blinded him to the oddity of it all. 

“Of course. If anyone could figure it out on her own it would be Hermione,” The boy sounded wistful. “If Hermione were the chosen one this war would have ended ages ago.”

“If she had been the chosen one, she and her muggle parents would have died 17 years ago with no idea why they were a target to begin with. Make no mistake. It is a blessing that the girl came into her prowess when she could use it to protect the people that she cares for and not when she was a child,” Severus grew tired of the conversation. Why he engaged the boy to begin with was a mystery. He reached for the bond again and while it was still there, warm and strong, he still could not feel her consciousness. 

Potter had stepped closer to the cot, desperation evident with every breath. His shoulders and hands still shaking with barely restrained emotions as if he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or scared. “We’re going to get her back, aren’t we Professor?”

Severus met those familiar green eyes and after a long moment replied, “Or we’ll die trying.”

—----------------------

Draco led the way to the Room of Requirement, his nerves were on edge. When the door to the Room of Lost Things appeared the bottom of it was charred black and the distinct smell of burnt wood greeted them. Lupin stepped forward and cast a few charms. Finally, deeming it safe enough, he spelled the door open. The smell of char and smoldering embers flooded into the hallway. With ease, they placed bubblehead charms and stepped into the cavernous room. 

“Blimey!” Ron said as he surveyed the room. Draco agreed with the sentiment as he took in the burnt refuse and the small flames that remained scattered in the space. 

“Fiendfyre…” Lupin muttered solemnly next to the group of students. His eyes were on the ground examining the ashes. 

“I guess that’s one way to do it,” Draco walked further into the room, dispelling the haze of smoke that still lingered. “If the diadem was in here it’s completely destroyed now along with pretty much everything else. Pity that I remember there being a few things I wanted to nick from here.” 

“If that’s true, how did Hermione find out about it? Malfoy, you mentioned earlier that your aunt said something was hidden in here. That’s the first we heard of it. But obviously, she didn’t just figure out there was one in the castle, she also figured out where it was, all by herself,” Ron expounded as he kicked a charred chair leg. 

“How do you think she got out of here, anyway? It’s not like anyone would have been in here to kidnap her. There’s only one entrance,” Ginny spelled some debris out of their way as they searched the rubble for clues. 

“That’s not necessarily true though, Gin. Remember how the entrance moved all over the castle during the DA meetings? I’m sure if you ask the room to show us how Hermione got out it would,” Ron said, using his not inconsequential height to look across the room from on top of a mostly intact dresser. 

The room took that as its cue to shift smoothly until a large shattered bay window showed on what would have been the outside wall of the room. At the sudden appearance, the ragtag team made their way through the rubble until they stood and took in the view of the grounds and further on the Forbidden Forest. 

“It could have brought the window up fully repaired. I think the room is showing us how Hermione got out,” Draco took a tentative step toward the glass. He could feel the early spring breeze that still sent a chill down his spine, “I know she’s brilliant but I doubt Hermione flew out of here. I don’t think my godfather’s bat wings are contagious.”

“Maybe she did,” Lupin said as he kicked a remnant of a table away to show a stack of broomsticks in various states of disrepair. “Hermione was never good at flying but I am confident she would rather fly out of here than fall.”

Curious, Draco summoned one of the brooms and watched it hover for a moment before mounting it. He was only able to get a few yards in the air when the broom jerked powerfully. It was only his skill and experience as a seeker that kept him from being thrown off into a pile of smoldering debris. 

“You alright, mate?” Ron asked as he examined another broomstick. Draco nodded as he touched down and looked out into the grounds again, deep in thought. 

“I bet all of the brooms in here were pretty defunct. But that doesn’t mean that one couldn’t have behaved long enough for Hermione to get somewhere safe,” Ginny turned to the former Professor, then paled. “Harry said Greyback was there with Hermione. Didn’t you mention that You-Know-Who was putting the werewolves out on patrols? They could have been out in the Forest when Hermione flew out.”

“And if the broom decided to shoot her across the grounds right into their sightlines she wouldn’t stand a chance,” Ron said looking grave. 

“Only one way to find out,” Draco said, with a wide arc movement he summoned the Slytherin brooms from the practice room. “Get on. We need to be sure that Hermione ended up outside the castle rather than someone having broken in.” 

With nods of understanding the group of four shot off, out of the castle and towards the forest. It didn’t take them long to trace the remnants of a broomstick. They landed in a small clearing. The Weasleys immediately went to examine the broken flying instrument while Draco surveyed the surroundings. He had been around Fenrir long enough to know that he might have left evidence. Next to him, Lupin was sniffing the air.

A moment later the growl that issued from the normally docile man startled them all. The Order member was crouched down near the tree line. When he stood and turned to them, he looked grave. “It’s her blood. She was here. At least we know the castle is still secure. Let’s head back.” 

As they moved to mount the brooms again, Draco noticed something out of place as deep as they were in the forest. On the ground next to a large tree was a blue wrapper. A blue Drooble’s candy wrapper. The exact candy Dumbledore had offered him earlier in his office.

—-----------

Hermione could feel herself weakening. As deep as she was hiding her mind away she could feel Voldemort breaking down some of her walls, digging deeper and deeper in his quest for information. She had to buy time and she knew that she couldn’t stay locked away for much longer. With a wave of determination and a touch of hubris, Hermione began building another library, closer to the surface, while building layer after layer of protection around the real one. The one that held all her knowledge of her war strategies, her connections to Harry and Severus, and any fears and emotions that could compromise her. She remembered her promise and let her mind reach out to Severus’s magic and pull it towards her, aiding her risky plan.

Hermione wasn’t sure if the headache was a result of the evil man’s mental assault or from how much mental energy she was exerting. The library surrounding her would fool anyone who had never spent any extended amount of time in the real one. Hermione could feel it when the Dark Lord grew closer, breaking protective wards and mental walls. She didn’t know how long it had been since she had first arrived in front of the dark wizard or if she had been under his assault the entire time. But he had made headway.

Hermione sat at her desk, centering herself as the sickening creeping sludge of Voldemort’s magic drew closer and closer. Then there was a knock at the door right across from her. 

Like a pivotal scene in a horror movie, the sconces in the room flickered as the door creaked open. The dark view of the crumbled protections that lay behind the door was visible for only a moment before being replaced by the ethereal dark entity, moving like a curl of dark smoke. He slinked into the room, bare and pale feet gliding soundlessly as his black robes swirled. She had never seen him up close before, only in glimpses of memories and pictures in the Prophet. It took a moment for her to recover from the shock of his inhuman face. He shut the door behind him and stepped into the center of the library. Hermione remained seated, looking into his eyes unflinchingly.

His mouth spread wide in a smile that seemed to suck the warmth from the room. “Brave little mudblood, aren’t you, Hermione? I can call you that, can’t I? Though I’m sure you prefer it whispered to you in Severus’s voice. He always did have that on his side despite the sorry state of his nose and hair.”

“You’re one to talk,” Hermione let slip. She schooled her features to a bored indifference. 

The Dark Lord’s laugh was hollow as it echoed through the room. He began a wide circle of the perimeter, his long gaunt fingers gliding across the spines of books. It felt like he was caressing her skin. Her blood curdled. Voldemort’s voice grated across her nerves, “You were always a curiosity, Hermione. You, who cannot even claim a half-life as a half-blood, yet you excelled. You put many of my men’s children to shame.” 

“Maybe they should have been studying instead of listening to your misguided sermons,” She responded, keeping her eyes locked on the lurking wizard. 

“A Gryffindor as well. What a waste. What a pity,” He ignored her insult. To her surprise he summoned one of the chairs and sat down across from her, the desk the only barrier between them. He gestured with his wand around the room. “This is an impressive, albeit predictable organization of your mind. Severus would have taught you something more subtle, more ambiguous. It seems you aren’t the only one keeping their skills close to the chest. So how did you do it? How did you remove my mark?”

Hermione warred with herself, unsure of how to react to this almost amicable tyrant. She decided that the truth would come at a lower cost than being caught in a half-baked lie while the snakeman was in her mind, “Old ritual magic. I had meant to die but apparently I was deemed worth saving.” 

“Old magic tends to be of the darker variety, Hermione,” He sniffed the air with his eyes closed. When he opened them they pierced her, “You’ve been toying with dark magic. I can feel the traces of it. Dumbledore would be so disappointed.” 

“Dumbledore couldn’t care less if you killed me or not, Tom,” She dared to use his name. The clench of his jaw and his raised brow was his only response. “They say it takes a dark wizard to know a dark wizard. I was simply growing acquainted with what we were up against. You cannot know how much light you will need if you are unaware of how dark it will get.”

Voldemort laughed again, “Poetic with a sharp tongue. I see how Severus could become infatuated with you. He always did like women he couldn’t control. But you are right, little lion. It is a flaw of your teachings that the dark arts were overlooked and reviled. How can you fight that which you do not know?”

Hermione didn’t respond. She knew about Lily Potter. Severus had told her everything once. She eyed Voldemort, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, she directed the conversation, “I worked on replicating the mark but couldn’t find anything close until I had access to the Black library. The Dark Mark was an impressive piece of work. I considered several different methods of removal but the ritual seemed to be the only thing remotely powerful enough to play host to the cleansing I had planned.”

“What a clever little lion you are. I would keep you as a pet if you hadn’t already wronged me so,” He was mocking her, tilting his head imperiously. “Does Severus know the cost of his freedom? That you’ve torn your little soul asunder for him?” 

Hermione didn’t answer but also didn’t look away. 

“I grow weary of this, Hermione. I know that Albus thinks he has an advantage, a secret weapon, and you are going to reveal it to me,” The Dark Lord stood, pointing his wand at her face. “You should accept the truth of the matter. I will rise again and again. There will always be a piece of me ready to take my rightful place in a pure wizarding world. Tell me what he thinks he knows and maybe I will let you see Severus one more time before I end his life. Or yours.”

Fear sprang up in her throat at the imposing figure of Voldemort as he towered over her, pointing his wand at her forehead. In the back of her mind, she felt a hard tug on the bond. It was a risk but she wasn’t sure she could push him out while maintaining the deeper protections. Hermione prayed to Circe as she dropped the barrier around the bond and felt the powerful surge of Severus’s magic flood the room. She reached for it quickly. There was a split second of unadulterated rage on the Dark Lord’s face before he was thrown out and out and out of her mind with walls slamming shut behind him. Hermione forced the bond back behind its wall before the madman had a chance to break in again. 

Without the fortification of Severus’s magic, Hermione could feel as her body took another beating. She sank back into deep occlusion, hoping she had bought enough time for Severus to find her. 

—---------------------

Lucius Malfoy was summoned to a room in his own home like a common house elf.  When he heard the maniacal laughter of the Dark Lord he shuddered. Someone was being used as entertainment and the dark wizard was truly enjoying himself. 

When he stepped into the room his occlusion fortified on instinct at the sight of the bushy-haired Gryffindor lying broken on the marble floor. He ignored her as he stepped up to the Dark Lord and bowed. “My Lord, I am at your service.”

“Lucius, you were always quite close to Severus, were you not?” The man was smiling in a way that haunted his nightmares. 

“Yes, my lord. Before he lost his mind. I have not had any contact with him since-”

“Silence! I care not if you have but I would like for you to see him,” The Dark Lord stood and walked up to the girl, prodding her with his bare foot. Lucius could now see that her eyes were open but blank, she was breathing but bruising was already blooming across her cheeks. He glanced at Greyback who was crouched in a corner smiling lasciviously. He watched as his master summoned a ring from the girl’s finger. “Take this to him. Tell him that I will keep her alive so that he may say goodbye. I did not afford him that the first time he asked for mercy towards one of his pets. Maybe that was when his loyalty went astray. What a pity that even the Great Severus Snape is a victim of emotional folly. He will soon bear the consequences of his betrayals. He will see the weakness that comes with such…sentiment.”

The Dark Lord cackled mirthlessly, dismissing Lucius. The Malfoy patriarch stole one more glance at the girl on the floor before he backed out of the room. 

Chapter Text

Severus had been gently prodding the bond to see if he could coax some further connection with Hermione. The torture had continued in short bursts but he could tell that the Dark Lord was focusing his energy on a mental attack, based upon the splitting migraine that plagued him. There was a ghostly remnant of her magic that wafted around the bond that told him she was alive, but her focus was completely aimed at protecting herself, at least mentally. His body ached, a shadow of the physical harm that had come to his bonded. Thankfully, the breaks between the torture kept his core far from being drained completely. She wasn’t in mortal danger, yet.

The clinical room had been quiet as Potter brooded in the corner, no doubt wallowing in guilt and imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios; not that he wasn’t very nearly doing the same thing. His mental fortitude was being tested as he forced his panic into its own box and locked it far away from the surface. Severus had the sickening feeling that Dumbledore may not deem Hermione’s rescue a top priority unless Harry himself kicked up enough of a fuss. If confirmation would come it would be from Lucius. Severus knew that he would have to get word to Lucius and figure out their plan to get the young woman home safely. As his thoughts wandered, the doors to the hospital wing opened and the group sent to the Room of Requirement returned, looking grim. 

“What did you find?” He aimed the question at his godson who had a deep frown marring his face, brow furrowed in deep thought.

“She destroyed the diadem and the entire Room of Lost Things,” Draco responded. He looked as if he wanted to say something more but was interrupted.

“You should’ve seen it, Harry. She’s burned the whole place down and escaped through a window on a broom! Can you believe it? Our Hermione on a broomstick!” Ronald tried to give some hope to his best friend who had paled at the blond’s announcement. 

His sister smacked his shoulder, “Not a good time you idiot.”

“Hermione cast fiendfyre to destroy it. It’s obvious that she lost control of it by the state of the room. We inferred that she flew out a window on a faulty broom and landed in the Forbidden Forest. We found the remains of the broom and traces of her blood. She was likely taken from there as she was outside the castle’s protections. I could smell Greyback and his pack, and I know he was among those stationed around the castle,” Remus explained quickly, a growl rumbling at intervals. 

“So that has to confirm it then! Voldemort has her! We have to do something!” Potter seemed to come out of the trance-like state he had been in.

The doors to the wing opened up again as Dumbledore strode into the room, silence falling as a result. He paused as if it was necessary to add another bit of drama to an inappropriate time. His voice was flat as he delivered the news, “We have received confirmation from Lucius Malfoy, Miss Granger is being held captive at Malfoy Manor.” 

“Then let’s go! Draco can get us through the Malfoy wards and we can save her!” Potter insisted but Severus knew it would not be so easy. He noticed then the odd look the young Slytherin was aiming at the Headmaster. 

“All of you will stay here. I will inform the other Order members outside of the castle and we will devise a plan of action. I suggest that those who are students return to their dorms. I will send word when there is any news,” Dumbledore said authoritatively, the twinkle in his eye wasn’t present. 

“No! You will not stop me from helping! This is Hermione we are talking about. Voldemort will make sure she suffers, not just because of me but because of Snape too,” Potter raged, “You’re the only one that he fears! Why aren’t you going over there to save her yourself!”

“Enough!” Dumbledore’s frame was imposing and it seemed like the light in the room dimmed. Draco had discreetly moved to the side of his bed, meeting his gaze, but Severus shook his head.  “What you are suggesting is ludicrous. Harry, now is not the time for either of us to face Tom. The Order will save Miss Granger but we must come up with a plan that will not be detrimental to our side.”

“Losing Hermione will be detrimental to our side, Professor! Because if you don’t save her then you can say goodbye to your ‘Chosen One’.” The young man’s pronouncement was met with shock. The Headmaster’s eyes betrayed the flash of rage he felt at the young wizard. The old man seemed to expand, his syrupy magic suffusing the room as he geared up for a verbal takedown. 

Deciding now was the time to intervene, Severus bellowed, “ENOUGH! Potter, if you want Hermione to live you will sit down and shut up. Albus, I suggest you get word to the rest of the Order. We do not have the time to waste over who and when someone will attempt to save her.”

“Severus, regardless of what is decided I suggest you stay here. Your bond with Miss Granger will aid her as she faces unimaginable perils at the hands of Tom. Fortify yourself, the longer you are alive the longer she may be able to pull strength from the bond; thus the more time we have to come up with a proper plan.” The Headmaster scanned the room with a glint in his eye that was much sharper than his usual twinkle. “Remus, come with me. I will need your help in contacting the rest of the Order. Harry, do not attempt to leave the castle. That is an order for you and your friends.” 

 Without any farewells, Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing. 

Potter was seething with barely controlled rage. “Ron, Gin, let’s go. They’ll probably meet in the Great Hall. I don’t care what Dumbledore says, we are going to help them rescue her.”

The trio headed for the door only for the feisty Weasley witch to turn to the two Slytherins. She seemed to wait until the others were out of earshot, then with a determined voice, she said, “This isn’t a job for a bunch of Gryffindors. Dumbledore is right, this is not the day for Harry to meet You-Know-Who in battle. I will try to keep them distracted. Draco, I’ll let you know when the floo opens up using the charmed galleon. Then, you lot do whatever it is you have in mind. In and Out. Take no unnecessary risks. Get our girl back.”

Then she was gone. Narcissa and Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room, having stayed out of the crossfire but had listened in. The old nurse looked pale, “Severus, I am well aware that you will do whatever you want regardless of what I say, but whatever plan you have, come back alive, both of you.”

The healer disappeared back into her office and straight through into her rooms. She never was one to want to know what dangers he was putting himself into but he could count on her to be there when he came back. 

“Lucius is already at the meeting point, ” Narcissa spared him a glance then looked pointedly at her son. “Draco, you cannot go.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, Mum. Like Ginny said, we have to do it the Slytherin way. The fewer people involved the fewer people who have to make it back alive,” Draco then turned to him, “Uncle, when you find her, make sure to take her straight here. Dumbledore…he had something to do with this.”

Severus felt a heaviness in his chest at the pronouncement. But the Headmaster’s duplicity would have to be dealt with at a later date. He stood, slipping his wand into his sleeve and donning his robes. “I have my suspicions but what makes you say that?”

Nervously, the boy pulled something out of his pocket as he spoke, “When we tracked the broom Hermione took to the Forbidden Forest, it was in the thick of it. Not somewhere that would be easy to get to if you were a student…I found this.”

The young man opened his palm and showed the blue wrapper to the Potions Master. Severus slammed his mental walls down to contain his rage and anguish. Dumbledore had been there when she was taken and had done nothing, just stood on the sidelines with his blasted gum. He closed his eyes to center himself. He put his hand on his godson’s shoulder, “After tonight Albus will have lost the trust of most of the Order. Be careful. We will talk more about this when I return.”

Draco nodded, then reached into his pocket again to reveal the galleon that was the signal to the floo. “Go Uncle. Get her back.”

—----------------

Draco knew that his godfather and father would likely be risking their lives but far be it from him to stop Severus Snape from running headlong into the serpent’s den for someone he loved. His godfather had let slip small details over the years of a girl he once knew that the Dark Lord had promised to spare. Of course, the woman had died. But the few glimpses of emotion had told Draco all he needed to know about what his godfather would put on the line if he needed to. He could feel the nerves coming off his mother as they descended to the first floor to try and catch on to whatever meeting the Order was putting together. It was imperative that they keep them from running off on their rescue mission to prevent them from interfering with the Slytherins’ plans. 

He could hear the yelling from the top of the last staircase as he and his mother reached their destination. Draco shared a look with her as they entered the Great Hall. It was late into the night at this point but the hall was rife with tension as a dozen of the most prominent Order members were gathered. Weasley and his father were doing their level best to keep Potter from lunging at Dumbledore. 

“You old bastard!” Potter roared at the Headmaster who had his wand pointed at him. Draco could see from the doors that it was taking everything theWeasleys had to hold the Gryffindor back. “What use are you to me!? What right do you have to stop me, you senile crackpot!”

Kingsley, Remus, Moody, and Tonks had their wands half-raised between the two wizards, obviously unsure who they should be pointing at. Remus was holding a second wand that Draco realized was Potter’s. McGonagall looked appalled and outraged. Hagrid was helping Ginny up from the ground. It was chaos. 

Draco ran to Ginny who was the nearest. She was holding her arm, wincing in pain. “Ginny, you alright?”

Tears were welling up in her eyes, “I tried to stop Harry and he threw me to the ground. I landed on my wrist.”

His mother immediately began administering aid. Closer to the fray, Draco was able to see that Potter’s eyes were glowing an unnatural color, and the sneer on his face was so out of character that it made a shiver run down his back. It was the same look from that night at Grimmauld Place. But he knew for a fact that this time, Potter wasn’t wearing a horcrux. 

“You’re all fucking cowards!” Potter growled as he bodily threw Ron and his father off of him in an act of strength beyond what he normally would be capable of. “Give me back my wand Remus!”

“I can’t do that Harry. You need to calm down. We cannot even begin to plan Hermione’s rescue if you continue acting like a wild beast!” Remus was forceful. Then he softened, stepping closer to the teenager, “Harry, there is something wrong with you. Let me help you.”

Potter was emanating a dark power. It felt familiar to Draco but in a distant sense. It was slimy, thick, and cold. Unlike his mother, Draco rarely was able to feel other’s magical signatures unless the wizard or witch was particularly powerful or a relative. There was no mistaking that this was not what Potter’s magic should feel like. It was sickening and dark, like the Dark Lord. Draco paled at the realization. Maybe they were right, maybe Potter is a horcrux and the soul fragment was growing stronger or even taking over. 

“None of you see it! Dumbledore is the great and powerful wizard with all those titles but he isn’t confident enough to get Hermione back. None of you are! So I’ll do it myself. Don’t get in my way, Professor, or I’ll make you get out of it,” Potter sounded vicious as he berated the occupants of the room. Then he stalked confidently towards Dumbledore despite all the wands pointed at him, staring hard into the taller wizard’s eyes. 

There was a flash of emotion in the Headmaster’s eyes that made Draco move out of fear for what would happen to his school rival. With the agility he had honed as a seeker, Draco crossed the room and slapped Potter hard across the face, sending him toppling to the ground. Before the Gryffindor could get up, Draco was on top of him and backhanded him again. He quelled the horror rising in his chest, hoping that a bit of Gryffindor bravado would help him with the show of reckless violence. He continued his assault of Harry, hitting him a third and fourth time until the glowing in his eye faded to their usual green. 

Panting, he shook Potter by the collar, “Get a hold of yourself you git! I know you want to save her. I do too. We all do but this is not helping. We already know that the Dark Lord has some kind of connection to you. If you keep feeding it, a few slaps won’t be able to pull you back. How am I supposed to explain to Hermione that we had to lock you in the dungeons? She’ll kick my ass!”

Potter went limp, staring up at him with a look of shock followed by shame and guilt. He threw an arm over his face and Draco felt that it was time to get them off the floor. It took a moment to get them up and Potter wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. The young man shook and looked down at the floor. His breathing was stilted.  

Remus appeared at their side and handed Potter his wand back, despite some murmurs of protest. In a low voice that only he and the scarred boy could hear he advised, “Draco stay close. Harry, I need you to focus on staying calm regardless of what you feel about Hermione. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, Lupin,” Draco said, dragging Potter away from the other Order members who were arguing amongst themselves in low voices. “You owe Ginny an apology.” 

The dark-haired teenager looked even more grief-stricken as he was moved across the room. Rather than admonish him, Ginny hugged him and spoke into his ear at length. It seemed to calm him down and Draco was finally able to unclench. Looking around the room, the Slytherin locked eyes with his mother before she joined the rest of the adult Order members. He shifted his attention back to the two Weasleys and Potter who were looking less horrified but still subdued. The floo in the Great Hall burst into flames as the rest of the Weasleys and more Order members arrived, having finally been informed of what had happened to Hermione. Draco thanked Merlin silently that the more tertiary members hadn’t seen Harry’s outburst. 

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and thought of his father and his godfather. Whatever you’ve got planned, Godfather, you better hurry. 

—---------------------

Were it not for his occlusion, the constant ache that he felt in tandem with whatever suffering Hermione had experienced would have had him on his knees. But he couldn’t focus on that now. Severus went over the plan mentally once more as he stood disillusioned in the secret passageway.  In a few moments, his role would come into play. At this point, Black was distracting some of the werewolves who would be chasing him out to the grounds. 

Yes, Severus had swallowed his pride and asked for Black’s assistance in their rescue mission. It became incredibly obvious, as he and Lucius had spoken, that they would need one other person to succeed. Someone who could get the lesser werewolves’ attention while Lucius handled their leader. A quick consideration of the known animagi that would survive an encounter with a group of werewolves, that was also an Order member, gave an obvious answer. It thankfully hadn’t taken much convincing. The ex-convict was more than willing to get out of Grimmauld and help rescue Hermione. There was no lessening of the sniping between him and his former bully, though. Lucius had, ironically, become the voice of reason, and reigned the two in by reminding them how dangerous the plan was and if they didn’t succeed it wouldn’t just be Hermione that died. 

Lucius, for his part, had confirmed that the Dark Lord was off on some secret endeavor with his snake in tow; when he would return, they didn’t know. It was now or never. This however left Hermione alone with a group of werewolves, not least of all, Fenrir Greyback. That had caused all three grown men to shiver with unrestrained fear. Who knew what state they would find her in? Severus refused to think about it too much. He knew she was still alive, thanks to their bond, and that's all that mattered.  

Lucius had revealed a singular secret passage that the Death Eaters had not blocked off. It was an abandoned tunnel used when old purebloods kept muggle slaves in addition to house elves. The practice had fallen away long ago. The many dark wizards among the Death Eaters had completely disregarded passages made for ‘the help’ and did not realize the security risk. The tunnel would lead to a passage that led out into a storage room only a few meters from the sitting room where Hermione was being held. Black, in his dog form, was leading off the lesser werewolves as they attempted to capture the interloper. Lucius was distracting Fenrir and would hopefully be able to tempt the monster with some of his pricier liquor; few knew that the wolf was quite the drunkard when he wasn’t on the hunt. 

Severus focused his breathing and listened, intently. He could hear Lucius putting on the charm and convincing the wolf of a bit of lackadaisical fun while the Dark Lord was away. After some grumbling, Fenrir followed the Malfoy patriarch down the hall. Once Severus knew they were out of earshot, even for a werewolf (the vastness of the estate was finally useful instead of aggravating), he made the move. 

His years as a spy aided him in remaining silent and swift as he exited the hidden passageway, crossed the hall, and backed into the sitting room. The door was left ajar so that he would know the moment anyone came near. When he turned at first he didn’t see her. Panic took hold for a moment when he thought they had moved her. But then reality set in as he stepped further into the room and found her sprawled in the middle of the floor, partially blocked from view by the sofa and armchairs. 

He forced his occlumency shields up even higher, bracing himself for what he would find. His dark eyes took in her body as he rounded the sofa and knelt next to her. Severus had seen many horrible things in his nearly 40 years of life. He had experienced firsthand some of those atrocities whether on his person or done by his hand. But seeing Hermione, his bonded, the young woman he had grown to love, a bloody and broken mess before him nearly broke him. 

Hermione’s chest rose and fell shallowly but her eyes were open and blank. Her hair was limp and caked with blood. One of her cheeks was swollen and she had a black eye. The petal soft lips he knew so well, were split and cracked. From the state of her clothing, Fenrir had taken his claws to her. A flair of unmitigated rage rose within him but he stayed the urge to find the beast and kill him with his bare hands. Severus continued his catalog of her injuries, his eyes flitting back and forth, taking in every detail. One of her ankles was broken and so were the fingers of her right hand. Her skirt was torn, her knees bloodied and bruised, and her thighs were dashed with blood and dirt.  

Severus’s hand shook as he flipped the hem of her skirt up and was nearly overcome with emotion to find that the blood didn’t reach up to the apex of her thighs, but her knickers had been ripped up the side without exposing her. He hoped that was a good sign. Realizing he had been ruminating too long he touched her cheek tenderly.  “Hermione, love. I’m here. Let’s go home.”

Severus knew that he would have to enter her mind soon and pull her from her deep occlusion but it had to wait until they were away from here. Gingerly, he cradled her into his arms and did his best to not jostle her as he stood. Inching the door open with his foot, he exited the room. The copper scent of blood was overwhelming. The knowledge that it was Hermione’s made him desperate. Almost there. Hold on. 

The manor felt even darker and more oppressive than usual as he strode down the hall. The illusion-covered alcove was visible through the storage room door just up ahead. He had just crossed the threshold of the room when he heard an eruption of yelling and the harried noises of spells being cast. He spared a glance behind him to see Lucius hurtling down the long hallway, haphazardly throwing spells over his shoulder. Behind him the hulking mass that was Fenrir was gaining on him, barrelling through the once pristine manor sullying it with gouges from his claws. 

“SEVERUS GO!” Lucius screamed, blood flowed from a deep cut on his forehead, blinding his left eye. 

In a split-second decision, Severus dropped Hermione’s legs, holding her to his body with one arm around her waist. His wand hand lifted, and he yelled, “DUCK!”

Lucius lunged to the ground as the silent curse hurtled in a dark purple bolt of energy into Fenrir’s chest. The howl of pain and the wet sound of bloody flesh hitting the carpet were ignored as Severus rushed forward and dragged Lucius to his feet and through the passageway. They did not stop running until they were long past the entrance of the tunnel and into the hills just beyond the Malfoy Estate. Two cracks of apparition later, Severus dropped to the ground a few yards from the castle gates, still clinging to Hermione. Lucius appeared next to him, holding his side, panting like a dog. As if summoned by the thought, Black appeared a few yards away in his animagus form and trotted over, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he too huffed loudly with exertion.

“Snape, don’t tell me they…” Black asked upon transforming back into his human form. He was eyeing the young woman in Severus’s arms with unmitigated horror. 

“No, I don’t think so. Probably every other form of torture but it doesn’t seem like he let Fenrir have her yet,” Severus answered solemnly, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. Exhaustion was setting in as his occlusion wavered, but he held onto Hermione firmly. He opened himself to the bond and pushed as much of his magic towards her as he could. Maybe it was the proximity, but he felt his magic funneling straight into her. Take it, Hermione. You can have it all, just please survive. 

“Thank Merlin for small mercies,” Black intoned, the most solemn Severus had ever heard him. 

“My cover’s been blown. We might have also killed Fenrir in the process,” Lucius surveyed their surroundings. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

At that comment, Severus looked up alarmed but then saw a familiar group rushing towards the castle gates. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore threw open the gates. With little preamble Potter ran to them, kneeling before Severus and Hermione, looking pale. From the corner of his eye, he saw Draco and Narcissa run to Lucius. He caught Lupin’s eye as the wolf passed. A stiff nod and a flash of relief came over the tired man’s face as he continued to Sirius’s side.

“Professor…” Potter’s voice was monotone as his eyes roved over the girl’s body, his hands twitched slightly as he took in her injuries. His green eyes, Lily’s eyes, looked at him with anger. The wizard was no doubt offended that he had not been included in the rescue effort. But now was not the time for things to be hashed out between them concerning the witch they both loved. Over the Gryffindor’s shoulder, he could see the rest of the main Order members fussing. But standing right at the threshold of the gate was the headmaster who was seething and looking directly at him. The Headmaster would want a full report, no doubt.

But Hermione was his priority. 

“She is alive, Potter. But already draining my magical core. You must get her to Poppy,” Severus had no energy to sneer at the young man or snap at him. Potter looked confused as the Potion’s Master gently pushed Hermione into his arms. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted as Dumbledore swooped down upon them. 

“Mister Potter, take Miss Granger to the hospital wing. The Order has much to talk about,” Dumbledore did nothing to hide the stoniness of his voice. With a nod to Potter, Severus urged him to leave. He then turned his attention to the headmaster who glared harshly at him before the old man turned to those still congregated. Dumbledore tempered his tone as he commanded those around him, “Mister and Miss Weasley, young Mister Malfoy, accompany Mister Potter back to the hospital wing. Miss Granger will be better off with her friends by her side. Kingsley, Tonks, contact those who were sent to collect intelligence or prepare for our rescue mission as it is now…unnecessary. The rest of you will accompany me in my office. There is much to discuss.”

Everyone scattered to carry out their tasks. The Weasley and Malfoy matriarchs followed the students, not wanting to be involved in the turmoil of the coming meeting. Severus desperately wanted to follow as well but the look on Dumbledore’s face was unforgiving. Lucius supported his wobbling frame as they walked up to the castle with the remaining members. 

—--------------

Upon arrival at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey and Mrs. Malfoy whisked Hermione away behind some curtains to give them privacy. On the way up no one had spoken as if any noise would disturb their unconscious friend. That had given Harry time to take in the extent of Hermione’s injuries. Each one was a stab to his own heart. What good is the bond I have with her if it can’t help heal her? If it was like Snape’s I would give her my whole core to make her better. 

Her clothes had been soaked with her blood, staining Harry as he carried her. He was too overwhelmed to go through the process of cleaning off the evidence of her injuries. That bastard Snape! He had to steal all the glory! Hermione will think he’s the only one who had wanted to save her. No, you git! She won’t think that and you should be thankful that Snape did what he did. You saw how Dumbledore was acting. In the time it took them to get her, which was hours, the headmaster had barely come up with the outline of a plan. 

The anger and spite that had been rising was once more tamped down as he examined the concerning responses of the headmaster that had started when Hermione had nearly died during the ritual. He couldn’t trust that Dumbledore would keep the people he loved safe. 

“Harry,” Ginny was in front of him pressing a damp cloth into his hands. He didn’t respond or take the cloth causing the girl to begin wiping the blood off his hands for him. “You can’t just sit here covered in her blood, it’s horrific. Don’t you want to look good for Hermione when she wakes up?”

Harry glanced at the closed curtains again then back into the eyes of the redhead, “She’s going to wake up, isn’t she? Snape said she was in deep occlusion…”

“Professor Snape will bring her back,” Ginny assured him. Her gentle touch had transformed into her pressing her wand tip over bits of his clothing and casting a silent scourgify as she went. 

‘“Of course he will. I’m the useless one,” He couldn’t even help them heal her. Even Draco and Ron had been called over to bring new towels, more water, and anything else the older witches needed while they helped Hermione. Harry admonished himself for being so lost in his own emotions that he wasn’t even aware enough to be a helping hand, and now Ginny was stuck babysitting him.

Ginny smacked his shoulder hard, “Don’t be daft! The girl you love was tortured by You-Know-Who and Fenrir Greyback! If you weren’t nearly catatonic over it I wouldn’t believe you loved her at all! Harry Potter, you pull yourself together so that when she’s awake you can be the strong man she is going to need.”

Harry was surprised at the younger teenager’s vehemence. He noticed then that she was nearly in tears. “Gin-”

“You’re not the only one worried about her either! She’s one of my best friends…and you don’t get it…I’m a girl, I know-” She choked a sob before taking a deep breath to collect herself, then she continued, “There are worse things that can be done to a woman than the Cruciatus or cuts and bruises Harry. If any of that happened to her then I think she was better off in deep occlusion. It might have spared her the memories. Regardless, she will need all the love you can give her.”

Harry paled as he finally grasped what she was saying. He thought back to all the injuries he saw but there was so much blood he couldn’t say for sure if any of it was from–he felt ill. He wanted to feel the rage again. It was better than the unmitigated dread that had taken over. But a moment of respite arrived when Ginny pulled him into her embrace. The familiar act of friendship and love allowed him to finally release the fear, anger, and finally relief now that Hermione was alive and safe. The two Gryffindors cried softly, taking comfort after the tumultuous events of the day. 

—-----------

Dumbledore had been…furious wasn’t strong enough of a word. The man had lost control in front of the inner circle of the Order as he railed at him for being reckless and at Lucius for losing his position. Effectively, they no longer had a spy in the Death Eater ranks. A huge disadvantage. But Severus didn’t have it in him to regret it. Nor could he be very angry or indignant at the headmaster who had calmed down enough to address Black and get the rest of the story of events. Surprisingly, Black had been vehement in his support of the rescue mission. Severus didn’t want to dwell on the fact that he probably owed the mutt a favor. His mind then focused on the pain that was becoming more and more unbearable. 

Hermione was safe now. Poppy would take care of her physically. He could already feel Narcissa funneling some of her magic into Hermione, lessening the burden on his core so that his own magic could heal the mirrored damage on his body. From what Lucius had told him as they prepared their rescue mission, the ministry would soon fall and the final battle was imminent. A battle that Dumbledore would allow to take the lives of everyone in the room if it kept Potter alive long enough to die at the right moment. 

If Potter dies, Hermione’s soul will be forfeit. Even if her body lives and Potter lives in exchange for her soul, she will be an empty shell, as if she received the Dementor’s Kiss. If I face mortal peril before that then Hermione will already be dead. His heart clenched at the futile fight they were engaged in. They would likely save the wizarding world, and defeat the Dark Lord, and none of them would survive to see the peace that followed. Narcissa said that only the one who placed Vitas Vittae could remove the bond. He focused back on the meeting and took in the stoic headmaster, who had calmed since his earlier outburst. Can we make him remove it? Hermione could survive my death if Narcissa was there to perform Healer’s Bain. But her soul has to be her own. Can I force his hand?

As if he could feel the Potions Master contemplating his resistance to the old wizard’s plans, Dumbledore turned his twinkling blue eyes on Severus. His protective walls were weak after the emotional turmoil and his physical exhaustion. The headmaster ripped through his mind with ease. But rather than the gentle and fleeting sweep he would normally implement when Severus would show him a memory, Dumbledore was shuffling through his mind with a heavy hand leaving a raging migraine blooming in his forehead.

In rapid succession, his memories were viewed by the Headmaster. The rescue mission. The retrieval of the Hufflepuff cup and abandonment of a cursed Bellatrix. The intimacy between him and Hermione. The meetings in his living quarters as they researched horcruxes. Flashes of being in Hermione’s mind library. But the flood of memories all stopped at the moment in his sitting room as Narcissa and he considered the slave bond between Harry and Hermione. As abruptly as the Headmaster had invaded his mind, he was gone. 

When Severus could focus his eyes once more he found the Headmaster staring at him, his eyes twinkling and a smirk on the familiar face that froze the blood in his veins.

Chapter Text

“You should have told me! I could have helped! And since when were you so eager to help Snape, Sirius?!” Potter shot at his godfather. Severus tried not to take too much satisfaction at seeing Black being admonished by the teenager. He appreciated the mutt’s help but that didn’t erase their decades-long rivalry.

“I was helping Hermione! She’s here now and she can get better. I wouldn’t have even considered it if those two hadn’t immediately offered a wand oath that the mission was to rescue her and get the hell out of there!” Black gestured wildly at Severus. Lucius watched the exchange with mild interest while sitting on the cot next to the Potions Master, his brow finally patched and the blood cleaned off. Draco sat next to his father, clinging to him freely, obviously exhausted.

“Wand oath?” Ron asked, surprise clear on the freckled youth’s face. The gangly ginger collapsed into a chair, clothing stained with blood. He and Draco had finally been dismissed by Narcissa and Poppy while they bathed and dressed Hermione, her physical wounds healed or in the process of healing. 

The evidence of Hermione’s injuries made Severus’s stomach turn. Since the rescue he had been able to think of nothing but her broken body and the blood that had dripped from her open wounds as he had carried her. He replied to the young Weasley in an endeavor to refocus. “While it was revealed long ago that I am on the side of the light, it does not escape me that Black and I have history that would make his trust scarce. A wand oath was the easiest way for us to assure him that our intentions were good. Time, as you know Potter, was of the essence,” 

“You shouldn’t have even gone! What if you got caught too? You both would have died!” Potter paced frantically. “You should have told me what you had planned. We spent hours with the Order getting nothing done! Did you not trust me to help? Did you think I would get in the way?”

“No, that had nothing to do with it. Of course, we trust you but Harry, it worked because there was no one else involved. You are too important for this war to allow you to get that close to the freakish bastard and his lapdogs. Malfoy was able to get us in while Voldemort was out of the Manor. I was able to lead the werewolves off and Snape got her out. It would have been too complicated otherwise,” Black tried to reason with the irate teenager. Severus knew the young man was feeling insecure in his relationship with Hermione and those feelings were only exacerbated by his inability to save her himself. It didn’t help that Black was essentially outlining how ‘easy’ the mission had been, at least logistically. Severus found himself relieved that Remus was stepping forward to calm Potter.

“Harry,” Remus took the boy by the shoulders, “You need to calm down. I know you are angry that you couldn’t help rescue Hermione, I am too. But the important thing is that Hermione is safe. She is healing. We have no idea what state she will be in when she wakes up. That is when she will need you most. This is ‘the brightest witch of your age’ Harry, she will not hold it against you that it wasn’t your arms she was carried home in.”

This seemed to finally get through to Potter who took a deep breath and nodded. Remus squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. The boy stayed quiet, his shoulders slumped as he turned to one of the windows. The fight was gone from him. Remus sighed heavily before turning back to the dark wizards. 

“Thank you for whatever barmy scheme you came up with,” Remus spoke in a low voice. Behind him Black was approaching Potter, wrapping him in a one-armed hug. “Harry would have been far too volatile. It was good to keep him away. He is right, however, that the Order was not working with the urgency necessary to save her.”

Severus nodded solemnly, “When the Headmaster decided to follow up on the vision Potter had of her whereabouts, despite its similarities to Arthur Weasley’s attack, I knew he wouldn’t act soon enough. Not to mention the bond between her and I had all but confirmed it. I couldn’t leave her there on her own.”

“Who knows what Voldemort could have gleaned from her mind in that time? I can also smell Greyback on her. Severus, he didn’t…” Remus looked sick. 

It hit Severus again how close Hermione had been to some of the most horrific torture that could be done to a woman. He willed away the flashes of past revels where Greyback had been allowed to have his fun. “As far as we could tell the physical abuse hadn’t reached that level, nor is it a full moon. But the Dark Lord likely did not find anything in Hermione’s mind, her occlusion is more advanced than he would have expected. The women will be able to tell us more about what state she is in now that they’ve finished treating her.”

As if on cue, Narcissa slipped out from behind the curtains, looking tired but relieved, “Physically, she will be alright. The cuts and bruises have all been taken care of. She has a few broken bones that will take a couple of days with the right potions. She’s lost a lot of blood and will need to be on blood replenishers through the night. Unfortunately, some of the scars will never fade.”

The elegant woman crossed the room and kissed her husband’s forehead. Lucius spoke, “I was not there the entire time, love. Did you…do a thorough examination?”

“It was one of the first things we did once she was stable. He roughed her up a bit and it seemed like he may have planned to based on the state of her clothing, but he never got the chance. Most of her injuries were to her extremities. The damage to her mind is what I’m most worried about. She’s occluding very deeply,” She scanned the room and then turned to Severus, “I know you want to work on waking her but I want her physically healed and you will need the rest before you go in there. She may not even know she has been saved and could lash out.”

He nodded, having come to the same conclusion. “Thank you, Narcissa.”

“Alright you lot,” Poppy had entered the room again, “I don’t need you all loitering in here. Miss Granger is on her way to recovery. Severus, I expect you to stay so we can get you those potions and your proximity should do her some good. You’ve probably felt less of a pull on your magic since she arrived here but I still want you to be at your best should anything come up with her healing. The rest of you, off to your dorms or wherever else you stay. School is back in session in only a few hours.”

With that the Weasleys bid their goodbyes, saying they would be back the next day. Sirius and Remus both nodded to him cordially before they too left. The Malfoys retreated as a family to spend time in Narcissa’s rooms. Lucius of course would be joining her there at the school for the foreseeable future. That left Severus and Potter alone with Hermione. He observed the younger man as he crossed the expanse and pulled the curtains open. Poppy, he assumed, was already in her chambers and unable to ward the boy off checking on the young woman. 

Severus stood and joined Potter next to Hermione’s bed, each standing on either side of her. Her hair was fluffy, newly washed and dried. The blood having been washed away, exposed the various bruises and cuts that were healing under layers of healing pastes. One of her arms was wrapped in bandages and a splint, straightening the limb as it healed. The same was done to one of her ankles. She looked so fragile, it tore at his heart. The fierce young woman he knew should not have been lying in front of him like this.  She’ll be mostly healed tomorrow. You did the best that you could considering the circumstances. Hermione is alive. The adrenaline that had been keeping him going since his return to the castle with Remus, was waning. He wanted to touch her, take some comfort from her but he dared not with Potter nearby. 

“She looks…better off than I had been prepared for,” The bespeckled youth murmured as he stroked one of her hands. Severus looked up. He looked so young, both of them did. They made a pretty picture as a couple and it stabbed at his old heart. His straight and unruly dark hair and boyish good looks paired with her feminine features and mane of equally unruly hair seemed like the epitome of a school-aged power couple. Do you think she would choose you if it wasn’t for the bond? Unconsciously, he reached toward that very bond for comfort and felt a wave of warmth and relief when he could feel her hot magic stronger than it had been since she had gone missing. Taking a deep breath, he willed away his musings about Hermione and the Boy Who Lived.

“It is…a positive turn. But Tom wanted the information she had and he wouldn’t have been gentle in his attempts to retrieve it. The damage to her mind will be more pronounced,” Severus said solemnly, his voice heavy with concern. Narcissa had been right, he had wanted to work on pulling the young woman out of her deep occlusion but his exhaustion was catching up with him. From the way she responded to the bond, he could tell that on a subconscious level, she knew she was safe and no longer in immediate danger. Hopefully, that would keep her from sinking deeper while he regained his strength. 

The Gryffindor boy turned to him suddenly, “And you’ll be the one to save her from that too, won’t you? I couldn’t even be there to get her out of the Manor! What good is being ‘The Chosen One’ when I can’t even save Hermione?”

His voice was bitter as he stalked away from her bed and towards the infirmary doors. Severus watched as the younger man paused and then pounded his fist on the great wooden door in frustration. The shaking of his shoulders followed by muffled gasps told Severus the boy was descending into further despair. Potter’s voice was rough with unshed tears, “Let’s hope I die at the end of this war, Professor. Then Hermione won’t be stuck bonded to someone so useless. You’ve already proved you’re a much better match.”

Then he was through the doors and Severus followed in a rage. Stupid, idiotic teenage boys! Does he think Hermione so shallow? Does he think I would let him die after all I’ve done to keep him alive, regardless of Hermione’s role in everything? His long stride had him at Potter’s side in moments. Severus grabbed the seventh year by the arm and dragged him into an empty classroom not bothering to be gentle. He threw him inside and then warded the door, throwing up a few powerful silencing spells. Potter stumbled and caught himself on a desk, his reflexes coming into play as he turned and pointed his wand at the irate professor. 

“Put that wand down boy!” Severus bit out then took a calming breath. He looked at the Gryffindor with undisguised disdain, “Listen to yourself. You think Hermione would even entertain the notion of you dying?”

“I’m going to have to if we are right about me being a horcrux,” Potter finally lowered his wand although he kept it in his hand. The fight left him to be replaced by a monotonous tone, “Might as well accept it now and stop fighting for someone I won’t be around to protect.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to find patience. His nerves had been on edge for a while, not least of which after Dumbledore had invaded his tired mind. “Do not think we haven’t been working diligently to find a way to remove that blasted scrap of soul latched on to you. None of us want you to die during this war!”

“You should be happy about this. You’ve always hated me. Once I’m gone you’ll never have to see my dad’s face ever again, plus you’ll have Hermione all to yourself,” The boy’s voice was pitifully dejected. 

“I do not hate you. I have not spent the last nearly seven years protecting you at every turn only to hate you,” Severus sighed, then took a seat, fighting the groan of pain that wanted to burst forth. “I could have treated you better, I could have treated everyone better, but I had a role to play. Though I do apologize for the immediate reaction to your unfortunate resemblance when you were…younger. Years have passed but the torment I was subjected to by your father and the Marauders has colored my very being. That was however not an excuse for everything I did.”

Severus didn’t truly understand why he was bringing this up now but it felt appropriate. He had spent so long hating James and by proxy, his son, while forgetting that Harry Potter was also Lily’s. This boy held all the resilience and compassion his mother once had. Severus was finally ready to acknowledge that Harry was the very best of his parents. The silence that followed caused the ex-Death Eater to look back up at the boy. There was an expectant look in his eyes. The Potions Master coughed and steered the conversation back on track, “Regardless of that, you cannot die now or tomorrow or any other day hence until we have a way to remove the bond between you and Hermione. I do not want Hermione to die and that means both of us must survive.” 

“We don’t even know what the bond is. It could work like the one between the two of you. We could end up saving each other,” Potter was calmer now but more confused. 

“We do know what your bond with Hermione is, Mister Potter…Harry.” Severus paused, not sure how to continue. Considering everything that happened it seemed appropriate to stop calling him by that moniker. The boy was far from his father’s son despite his looks.

“Start over. From the beginning. I-I…,” The boy finally took a heavy seat and shook his head, “You know what the bond is? Since when?”

“A while,” Snape admitted, his gaze steady, “But Narcissa and I haven’t told Hermione. I have my suspicions about how it was placed, and it is unpleasant, to say the least,” He studied Harry’s reactions. For a moment, he thought the boy might have known, or the headmaster had slipped up, but it was clear Harry was also in the dark. 

“It’s not like your bond with her. I know that much. I didn’t even feel it when she disappeared,” Harry’s brow furrowed as if thinking harder would bring him better understanding.

“No, it is not,” Severus confirmed, “You’ve had an inordinately broad exposure to dark magic, against your will. I know you feel it–the connection with the Dark Lord that feeds on you and every negative emotion you experience. It’s why the locket was able to take such a strong hold and why you have seen things you should not have witnessed. This bond needs dark magic to take hold. It was common in old pureblood families where dark magic was treated no differently than other magic.”

“But what is the purpose of it?” 

“It’s a slave bond, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “S-slave bond? What—will it hurt Hermione?”

“If only hurting her was its purpose,” Severus replied, his tone grave. “Bonds with such a direct purpose can be broken easily. No, this bond is a way for you to survive death. To save your soul and your life, the bond forces Hermione’s soul to be given in exchange. A life for a life. A soul for a soul. Do you see why you cannot consider dying, either prematurely or when it is ‘necessary’? Do you understand the cost?” Severus willed the young wizard to grasp the gravity of the situation. “There is a piece of Tom inside you. If you die, your soul and any pieces of his soul are no longer anchored to the living world. Vittas Vitae, Ribbons of Life, is a soultie that has bound her soul to yours even in death. It calls for an equal exchange of whatever is being called forth. In the case of keeping a soul on the earthly plane, fate requires a soul in exchange. Fate will save you from death at the cost of a soul—Hermione’s soul.”

“But how can she be bound to you,” Harry tilted his head in confusion.

“Our bond lasts only as long as we both live. But a soul exists beyond the living plane.” Severus paused, preparing for the boy to pepper him with questions but they did not come. Taking a breath he continued, “Alchemy is an ancient type of magic that only very few are naturally able to wield. There are a handful of instances in which alchemy has been implemented in the last 100 years. It is volatile and deals directly with a plane of existence apart from ours, where the laws of magic are decided and bound. It is the origin of Gamp’s Law of Transfiguration.” 

At the blank look on the boy’s face, Severus elaborated, “Gamp’s law states that you cannot conjure something from nothing. In alchemy, there is an overarching law called ‘equivalent exchange’. For every act of magic, there must be an equal exchange that is lost. In a simple sense, when you use magic to perform a great feat, that magic is lost and you must produce more in your core. That is how we use magic. Alchemy can be implemented outside of our plane of existence, although it is dangerous and often comes at a greater cost than it is worth. 

“Consider how magic doesn’t work on the Hogwarts ghosts.  Souls exist on a different plane than the one we live in. It is why a Dementor can suck a soul out of a body and the body continues living as an empty shell. The soul bonds we are familiar with all exist in the plane of the living. The body and soul are one and the same, intrinsically connected by magic. But in the afterlife, when souls are no longer anchored, that is the realm of Fate. The soul tie exists there. It’s why it feels different. It is not acting in our present plane but exists in another.”

“So, let me get this straight, Professor.” Harry met Severus’s eyes, his bafflement at the situation growing as he explained it to the Professor in his own words,  “Hermione’s soul is tied to mine currently. But in another plane so that if her body dies, the soul still remains tied to me. Then, when the time comes for me to die here, and my soul is released from my body, rather than moving on to the afterlife Hermione’s soul will be…what? Devoured by Fate in exchange for my soul to return to life and this plane of existence?” 

Severus was mildly impressed at his understanding then nodded in agreement. Harry paled, looking off into the distance as he processed what he had just learned. His voice was solemn, “We have to remove it.”

“Only the one who cast Vittas Vitae can remove it,” Severus stood, facing the younger man. He paused then, bracing himself for retaliation at the revelation. “I have reason to believe Dumbledore placed the alchemic slave bond on the two of you.”

Harry’s jaw dropped but he snapped it shut a moment later. His brow was furrowed and his hands shook. “Are you sure?”

“He is the only one I know who can perform alchemy and it would fit in his plans for the greater good. I do not know when he enacted it but if we do not find an alternative solution to removing it…no matter what happens in the war, Hermione’s soul will be lost,” It was the hardest of pills to swallow and it seemed to be the motivation the boy needed to rise from the pit of pity and self-recrimination he had been descending into. 

“Can the bond be removed even if the caster is under duress?” Harry looked back at him with unsettlingly piercing eyes that flashed golden.

“The state of the caster will not have an effect on their ability to remove the bond as long as it is their magic that removes it,” Severus responded slowly, looking warily at the young man. There was something about the way Harry was staring at him that made him feel uneasy. Silently he cast legilimens and flitted across the surface of the boy’s mind. His eyes widened as he pulled away, “You will not be casting the Imperius Curse on the headmaster! Besides the obvious reasoning that you should not be exposing yourself to even more dark magic, no version of that curse that you would be able to cast would work on someone as powerful as Albus Dumbledore!”

Cowed, the boy’s shoulders slumped and the odd flash in his eyes receded. He ran a hand through his messy mop of hair and looked abashed, “I’m not going to say anything about you reading my thoughts, but you’re right. It was just the first thing that came to mind. I don’t think Hermione would have been too pleased with that idea either.”

“No, I think not. Go to bed, Harry. She will need us when she wakes up,” Severus concluded with a tone of finality, then left the room. The weight of the day’s events and the prolonged interaction with James Potter’s son bore heavily on him as he sought a much-needed rest. Tomorrow he would help Hermione resurface from her occlusion. 

—----------

Hermione was floating, weightless, and unencumbered. She didn’t know where in her mind she was, but it was deep. Far beneath her initial mental shields, past the pastures and valleys where she meditated, and beyond her mind library. The world that surrounded her was formless, and so was she. It was like feeling nothing and everything at once, a paradoxical sensation pushing against a body that was here but also not here. Hermione imagined this is what it would feel like in a sensory deprivation tank, logically knowing she was alive and well while simultaneously losing her cognitive ability to place herself as a physical being in space. 

She was fading into herself, dissolving into her own essence, losing consciousness of life outside. Losing what made her a human, intelligent, and individual. No fleeting thoughts were bouncing around her head. No theories or spells or dreams. She was and was not. If her mind was an ocean, she was tumbling beneath the choppy waves with no instinct to try to swim. No instinct to survive. 

But she had to survive. That’s what this was about; that is why she was so deep inside herself—to survive. Hermione tried to will herself back into being. 

Focus. You need to focus. You have to stay grounded. You have to latch onto the world outside before you slip away.

If she still had a voice she would groan in effort. Her thoughts were sluggish and her awareness inconsistent. The outside. What was outside in the world that she needed to get back to? A waft of something spicy and herbal, as comforting as a warm embrace, rose from the depths enveloping her in its familiar heat. A rumble of words, deep and laced in honey, seemed to hover where her head should be. Her ears. That smell and that sound made her heart ache and soar to the heavens. It was pulling her from the deep.  

Hermione.

That was her name. That voice filled the void with the sensation of soft wool, the liquid heat curling and swirling like a living thing. She counted her fingers into being. Then counted her toes. An awareness was manifesting. The familiar sensation of her hair brushing her cheeks made her smile. Her mouth, her lips, the lips that he touched with his. Piece by piece she rebuilt herself.

Come back to me. 

She could see. See what? The darkness, the void. The pale skin of her own hands. She felt expansive and yet insubstantial. Her limbs reached out to the edges of her existence and pulled inward. Arms, legs, torso, hands and feet. Eyes. Mouth, nose, and hair. There was something else, unwelcome. A soreness and a strain on the tips of her fingers, just out of reach. Pain. Something painful. The liquid heat suddenly intensified, and she gasped feeling as if the very essence of magic was pulling her back to reality. The outline of something appeared before her. A door. Why was there a door?

I need you to come back to me.

That voice again. That person was full of desperation and sadness. Her heart ached. She wanted to scream to them that she was coming. She wanted to relieve their pain even as she felt her own cresting into existence. Her hands reached out to the doorway. The door was materializing before her in flowing increments, rippling like a sheet in the wind, flapping in and out of being. Where was she? She was supposed to be somewhere else. Where was the voice? The door blinked in and out of form. The pain ebbed and flowed while she sank backward. The ocean waves were rising over her again.

HERMIONE!

She jolted into full awareness, standing in the middle of her mind library. Everything flooded back into her mind from the sticky heat of a summer that then morphed into the unbearable pain that arrived as she thrust Voldemort out of her mind. There was a dull ache that seemed to emanate from the doors that surrounded her. Pain, physical pain. They were still in her mind but in a familiar place, the comforting library where they had spent so many moments together. A place where they had made promises and had decided to call each other by name.

“Hermione, love, look at me,” The familiar deep voice spoke to her. Her eyes focused as she took in the angular face of Severus Snape, her bonded match, standing before her. A blurry presence. A being that appeared as if behind frosted glass. His voice came again, encouraging her, “You’re so close, Hermione. Reach for me.”

Her hands reached through invisible molasses for the blurry image before her. When her fingertips teased the edge he suddenly appeared in stark contrast. His white shirtsleeves were as crisp and white as his trousers were black and perfectly creased. His brow was furrowed with worry, and he looked exhausted. The nose she had come to adore was inches away from her own. His hands were on her biceps, his grip pulsing loose then tight as he tried to control his response to her. 

“Severus?” Her eyes widened as her emotions caught up with her. Tears spilled from her eyes and with shaking hands, the young woman slid her palms up his chest and fisted the fabric there. Disbelief was evident in her tone as she pulled the man into her arms, “You found me. I went too deep. I couldn’t find the doors; there were no doors.” 

Even in this part of her mind, she could feel his sturdy arms and lithe body pressed against her. Every emotion she felt for the man surfaced in a great tidal wave of euphoria and relief. Then the glow of their bond surrounded them in a fiery heat, begging for more. The dark man looked relieved when he pulled back to look down at her. His large hand cupped her cheek and his black eyes searched her visage. “I thought I lost you. I kept moving deeper into your mind. Deeper and deeper. I was so scared, witch.” 

The unabashed affection, vulnerability, and love were startling in their intensity but fueled her next movements. It didn’t matter that they were still in her mind and their bodies were probably laid out in the hospital wing; he was here in her library, and she wanted him. Her lips crashed into his as she pulled him down by his collar. They lost themselves in a passionate embrace that stole their breath and dimished their worries. Hands combed through hair and legs stumbled until they were seated in an armchair with Hermione straddled across Severus’s lap. 

Their lips parted, and the two sat, admiring the other. She pecked his cheek, then tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. Hermione searched his eyes for an inkling of what was happening in the world outside. Severus looked at her like she might disappear again. His hands grasped her waist, drawing circles there with his thumbs. If this is what it felt like to reunite with him in her mind library, she couldn’t wait until she woke up in the real world. That thought disappeared as soon as it came.

The realization awoke her senses further as her magic reached out to her physical form. There was the pain, the soreness, and the stiffness. Hermione took a moment to visualize the injuries based on the pain that was seeping in. When she opened her eyes, Severus was looking at her worried. Hesitantly she asked, “My body was broken, wasn’t it?”

He gulped audibly before taking her hand in his and kissing each knuckle in turn. Each show of affection was a stab in the heart. Severus Snape had never been the type to lavish anyone with physical contact. But here he was, giving and giving, to soothe her and himself. When had he come to care for her so much? Why was she indulging in this doomed connection? How could her resolve not crumble in the face of this adoration? Severus Snape, who taught you to love so completely? Always the stubborn muggleborn. When the time comes, I wish I could force Fate to spare your heart. 

He touched his forehead to hers and clasped the back of her neck, beneath her hair. His touch was firm but comforting, “You were beaten badly. Merlin, there was so much blood. I thought for a moment we were too late. But we got you out. Poppy and Narcissa were able to heal your wounds. There was evidence of the Cruciatus curse, but we have been administering the muscle relaxer I concocted. There shouldn’t be any lasting effects, just soreness.”

“I knew you would come for me,” Hermione leaned into his embrace, dropping kisses on his shoulder and the side of his neck as she got comfortable. She wanted to indulge in this intimacy while she could. Exhaustion was settling in, even in her mind library. 

“We were lucky that your physical wounds were not as bad as they could have been. But the Dark Lord waylaid any of Fenrir’s attempts to…claim you.” She could practically hear Severus wince. She considered what those words meant and felt a shiver go down her spine as the werewolf’s wild visage seemed to appear before her. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on his voice, “Instead, he wanted to ravage your mind in search of information.”

“I pulled back to protect our plans. He came here,” She looked around the familiar doors and bookcases. “I pushed him out, but it was difficult. I tried to distract him with a decoy version, but he knew I was hiding things deeper. I retreated and took the important parts with me.”

The Potions Master’s hold on her tightened. He lifted his head and turned her toward him so he could look in her eyes, “You did well, love. You did everything right. He came back after you pushed him out and tore the library apart. I had to rebuild it. There was nothing left,” His deep voice had a tremor to it that expressed his fear. “It was like a void with not an errant thought or feeling to be found. I-I’ve only seen such a mind in patients at St. Mungos.” 

“How did you rebuild it?” She asked, unable to fend off her curiosity even with the seriousness of the situation. 

“I dug deep. I scoured every corner and worked through your natural barriers, gently. I knew I would need the library to be able to call you back. I couldn’t lose you,” He stood and pulled her into a tight hug. His shoulders shook and she could tell he was trying to spare her the view of him crying. Her heart clenched in her chest as his voice broke, “It’s been 3 weeks. I’ve been coming here every day to try and pull you back up. Dumbledore said it was a lost cause but I knew you were stronger than that.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Hermione leaned back and looked up at him. His eyes were red but he still gave her a soft smile that she knew was especially for her.  

Severus tilted her chin up and kissed her chastely, “ I could never give up on you. I love you, Hermione. My heart is yours.” 

The sincerity of his words weighed heavily on her heart, almost smothering her with the intensity of his love. But worse yet was the overwhelming desire to say it back, to shower this lonely man with all the affection and love he deserved. Hermione knew that she had fallen in love with him the moment her memories returned to her. However, love had never been part of the plan, so she tried to brush the feeling aside and kissed him firmly, distracting him with the passion of it.  Sweet sweet man. I would give you my soul if I could. 

Chapter Text

Harry frowned at the Daily Prophet as he sat with Hermione, waiting for her to wake up. After weeks in the hospital wing, she was finally to be discharged. 

In the past three weeks since her rescue, the Ministry of Magic had been taken over by a political party that was a thin cover for Voldemort’s followers. With this new change, the Aurors and other Order members who worked for the Ministry were being watched closely.  He had heard during the last meeting that Tonks had even been reprimanded for ‘interfering’ in the ‘seizure of controlled magical artifacts’ from a muggleborn’s home, which ultimately led to an arrest and the obliviation of the young wizard’s muggle parents. More and more muggleborns were receiving news of attacks on their families or threats being sent to their houses. Already, Dumbledore was allowing the families of those at risk to take refuge within the castle walls.

Harry looked over at the sleeping figure of Hermione and sighed heavily. It was a morbid thought, but even if the result was terrible, sending her parents away had probably saved them from long, torturous deaths. He folded up the paper, trying to forget the disturbing description of another group found dead, and tossed it on the bedside table. His eyes stung a bit as he rubbed them roughly. Snape had finally awakened Hermione the night before, but Madame Pomfrey insisted that she wait another day before being discharged. 

At the thought of the Potions Master, Harry frowned. Despite his gratitude for Snape’s help, Harry still didn’t know how to feel about him. The dark man had proven himself as a powerful ally and someone who cared deeply for Hermione. Jealousy colored his views of the older man: jealousy at his prowess, jealousy at his relationship with his best friend, the girl he loved. But loath as Harry was to admit it, Snape genuinely loved her. The weeks had proven it as an undeniable fact. If anything, the depth of his love intimidated Harry. He recalled the actions of the wizard since the successful rescue mission.

Harry could be found at Hermione’s bedside any free moment he had as she recovered. The Potions Master had not interfered but returned each night before curfew to sit on her bed and try to root through her mind and pull her back to the surface. It was a blow to his ego that he could do nothing about Hermione’s catatonic state while the ex-spy worked through the night, doing whatever he could to bring her back. Each day that Snape relieved Harry of his vigil, was a surprise. Dumbledore had resolutely ignored Hermione’s condition at the last two Order meetings until Snape brought it to the group’s attention. Both times the headmaster had only ‘hoped she would awaken on her own’ and moved on. It was fuel to the ex-Death Eater’s resolve, who would leave the meeting prematurely and would dive back into any method he could use to try to wake her. 

Harry had walked into the hospital wing bright and early that day and witnessed Snape wake from his place slouched next to her on the bed, sitting up swiftly while looking down at the brunette. As Harry stepped closer to the pair, he saw Hermione’s eyes flutter open, followed by the corners of her lips turning up. 

“Severus,” Her voice was raw and deepened with sleep, but dripped with tenderness that stopped Harry in his tracks. He watched as the Potions Master’s tense shoulders relaxed, his body seeming to unclench at the sound of her voice. His raven hair hung curtained around his face, hiding his expression.

Snape took her hand, his movements slow as though he feared he would startle her.  Then he leaned down to brush a featherlight kiss to her forehead before he pressed his own against hers. His voice was a low rumble, tinged with exhaustion and relief. “Yes, love. I’m here. I've got you.” 

Their movements were so casual and intimate no one would be able to mistake their ardor. Heartbreak and jealousy coalesced into brutal acceptance as Harry watched the pair. Harry’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The jealousy gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his perceived inadequacy. How could he compete with Snape, who saved Hermione, not once, but twice?

Hermione tried to sit up but Snape gently pushed her down and merely leaned forward so they could speak directly into each other’s ears. Her soft smile followed by the deep rumble of his chuckle seemed to cast them in a light that burned bright in the morning rays that flooded through the high windows. They didn’t even realize he was there, so caught up were they in their reunion.

It should have been disturbing; he should have wanted to fight for her attention, but instead, he just watched, frozen. Hermione had looked at him with awe, worry, and love, but never with the bare and vulnerable adoration that she was directing at the Professor. He couldn’t see Snape’s face but suspected the look in his eyes would be similar to hers. He wasn’t the only one who had noticed the change in Snape’s demeanor ever since the ritual. Sirius had commented on how obvious it was that ‘the greasy git’ had fallen for Hermione’s numerous charms. Remus had even fondly described how Snape had planned such a thoughtful Christmas gift for Hermione. The surly, angry man that Harry had come to know and revile had shown his true colors which seemed to glow with his feelings for the curly-haired bookworm. 

Harry stood rooted to the spot as the Potions Master sat back, holding one of Hermione’s hands in his lap, his thumb rubbing circles across the top of it. With effort and assistance from Snape, the formerly catatonic girl sat up. Harry noted how he asked permission each time he went to touch her as he offered his help. The man carefully, tenderly bunched her hair and slung it over her far shoulder so she wouldn’t pin it behind her. Then he took his seat at her side again, with his back to the room. Hermione cupped the Professor’s cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. Harry closed his eyes.

He bore the pain of his yearning only as long as he could hold his breath then coughed to announce his presence. When he opened his eyes, the Professor was standing, turned towards him but still held Hermione’s hand in the space between them. 

“Good morning, Hermione…Professor Snape. I’m glad that you’re awake now. We have all been worried sick,” He affected his voice with a calmness and buoyancy he didn’t feel. He strode across the room, noticing how they squeezed each other’s hands before letting them fall away. Hermione reached for him with that same hand and he took it, sitting on the edge of the bed where Snape had just been. “How are you, Hermione?” 

Hermione answered softly, although her eyes looked past him, watching as the Professor donned his cloak and headed for the hospital wing doors. “I’m fine, Harry. I’m sorry to have worried you. I needed help coming back, but You-Know-Who didn’t learn anything. So it was worth it.”

“I couldn’t care less about what he learned, I’m just happy you’re alive,” Harry said quickly, her gaze finally landing on him as the sound of the doors opening and closing sounded through the empty infirmary. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. I should have been there. You got tortured because of me.”

“Harry,” Hermione cupped his cheek, her touch firm and familiar. She leaned forward, stopping his self-recrimination in its tracks the moment her eyes met his, “I was tortured because I am a muggleborn and because I am part of the fight against him. Even if you weren’t ‘The Chosen One’ and this war was still happening I would have fought for the light. But I’m alive. I’m here with you. That’s all that matters, alright.”

Harry turned and kissed her palm, savoring the feel of her skin and the familiar scent of her. He loved this girl deeply, but sharing her affections with the Potions Master tore at his heart. How could he reconcile his feelings for Hermione with the bond she shared with Snape? It was something he could ruminate over now that she had returned to the land of the living. “We almost lost you. I couldn’t even help save you. That was all Snape.” 

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to come for me. Who knows what would have happened if you had come and You-Know-Who was still there? You need to survive until you can face him when you’re ready, not on a whim because of me,” Hermione argued with strong conviction. “I know you would do anything for me Harry and I would do the same for you. But we have to pick our battles. The more that happens the more I believe that you are a horcrux and who knows what could happen if you got near him now. Just being around the locket turned you into someone else.” 

“Is that why you locked me in that room? Because you didn’t want to have to face me after what I had done and preferred going after a horcrux on your own? Did you think it would end up like Christmas?” Harry snapped back, feeling suddenly slighted, though shame still burned in him as he recalled his attack on her.

“No, Harry! I was happy to see you. I was tired of you avoiding me because of something you did that you couldn’t control. But I also didn’t want you near the horcrux after all that had happened. It was the only way to make sure it wouldn’t affect you,” Hermione implored, “ I never meant to end up outside the castle. That was an accident and no one’s fault. I doubt you would have been able to prevent it.”

“You could have waited for Remus and Snape to come back. Or even called any of the others. You didn’t have to run off on your own. You didn’t have to leave me there with no way to tell anyone what you were up to.” Harry scolded. 

“Calling the kettle black, Harry. I learned how to run off on my own from you!” Hermione said amused as she fought a smile, “It all worked out. That’s always what you say after doing something incredibly dangerous and betting on a whim. It applies to this too. I’m alive. Severus pulled me out of my occlusion. You-Know-Who learned nothing from me. Last but not least, we are down another horcrux. I could argue that my reckless act has had better results than any of yours.” 

The faux haughtiness she inflected her voice with made his lips turn upward in an embarrassed grin, “Alright, I get it. I won’t question you. Just please don’t go off on your own anymore. He knows who you are and how important you are to me. You’re more of a target now than you were before.” 

“I know Harry. I won’t rush off anymore.” Hermione said with quiet determination. “But how is everyone else?”

“They will be happy to hear you’re alright. Everyone’s been worried sick that you had lost your mind from the torture. But, Snape, he wouldn’t give up. He said he would be able to bring you back, even when Dumbledore told him to focus on another project about Voldemort’s snake,” Harry explained, though felt odd about showing Snape any appreciation.

“It doesn’t surprise me that the Headmaster didn’t think my mind was worth saving,” Her response had his gut twisting. Had she also had suspicions about Dumbledore? Harry winced as he voiced the damning thought, “Hermione, I don’t think he wanted anyone to save you.” 

“No, you’re right. I’m sure he hoped I would have died and gotten out of his hair,” she said, her voice was blunt and tinged with anger. 

“Hermione,” Harry’s voice trembled slightly, “how long have you had doubts about Dumbledore?” 

The girl in front of him sighed heavily, unable to hide her frustration. “I’ve never blindly followed him, Harry. Not like everyone else. Not since first year.” 

“So this whole time? Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry’s brow furrowed. He had never picked up on any animosity between the two and until her reckless use of Un Anima Duo to relieve Snape of his mark, the Headmaster had not been very interested in the muggleborn. 

“The traps that led to the Sorcerer’s Stone were too simple. I thought back then that he had done it intentionally as it made no sense for a group of eleven-year-olds to have such an easy go of it. Each year countless death-defying situations were left for us to solve when he and other more experienced wizards should have handled it. He even knowingly let us use the Time Turner to save someone, breaking literal punishable laws. Dumbledore is too clever to be so reckless. I believe he allowed some events to happen as a way to make sure you learned lessons ‘organically’.” Hermione looked away and sniffled, “He lost all my trust when I found out he was the one that had pushed me to obliviate my parents.”

“Wait-what? But you came up with that idea, didn’t you?” Harry tried to recall the conversations they had had on the subject during the summer.

“Harry, obliviation is permanent. Why would I want my parents to have forgotten me completely? It makes no sense. Dumbledore admitted that he ‘suggested’ it to me. That ended exactly how he wanted. My parents are gone and now I have no one but you to put my life on the line for. That’s what he wanted. He however never expected me to interfere where Severus is concerned,” Hermione’s voice was bitter but he could tell she was tired again. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she rubbed circles at her temples.

“I believe you. But let’s talk more tomorrow, there are things I need to get you up to speed on.  With the Order and with our plans with the horcruxes. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Harry insisted, knowing he would be up late ruminating over the Headmaster.

Harry was jolted from his reverie by a hand on his forearm. He looked up and met the honey-brown eyes of Hermione who looked to be in good spirits and eager to leave the infirmary. Unable to stop the wave of affection that came with seeing her once more on her feet, Harry enveloped her in a firm hug and kissed her temple. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Hermione smiled at him softly as she took his arm, leading her to the Head Girl dorms. She did not cling to him as she had when she had first lost her memory. Harry felt oddly bereft. Her reactions to him had paled in comparison to her first interactions with Snape after she woke up the day before. He pushed the jealousy down deep. Remember what Snape said: negative emotions can be used against me. 

An hour or so later they were sprawled across her sitting room. Hermione was on the floor, surrounded by books while Harry was draped across the sofa working on an essay. He looked over at the curly head of Hermione as she flipped between writing and paging through a textbook, “You do know you don’t have to catch up on all the homework at once?”

“Oh hush, Harry. I’m not even researching as deeply as I would like to. I just want to at least turn something in. It’s three weeks of schoolwork and it’s our last year. I will not ruin my grades so late into my schooling,” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. 

“Well, you’ll have to take a break after dinner tonight. The Order is having another meeting after that but Snape wants to see all of us in his chambers before we go to the Great Hall,” Harry munched on a cookie and closed the book he had been using for his Herbology assignment. His eyes traced over Hermione’s figure. There was very little physical evidence of her kidnapping and he wondered how she was doing mentally. If only he could be a legilimens like Snape, then he would be able to help her instead. Who knows what the two talked about while the dark wizard was rooting through her mind? 

It did not escape his notice how comfortable Hermione was with her growing relationship with the Professor. Before her memory loss and afterward, her openness and logic had been a gateway for their interactions. Was he destined to lose to the bond they shared? Did she truly love the Professor or was it a result of the circumstances they all found themselves in? Did Hermione love him after all he had done? She was fond of him, loved him as a friend kissed and touched him willingly before his horcrux-induced attack. But how did that compare to her connection with the older man? Curiosity finally got the better of him, “Hermione, how do you…feel…about Snape?” 

—------------

Hermione froze, her train of thought derailing. Who needed information on the goblin rebellion when her kind-of-boyfriend had just asked her about her feelings concerning a man she had a soul bond with? She put down her quill and looked over at the young man sprawled across her couch from her position on the floor. “I love him as much as I love you, Harry. He’s a good man and this bond has shown me that and more.”

The sigh the other Gryffindor let out was all the indication she needed that her answer wasn’t satisfactory. “Harry, I know you love me and I’ve always loved you in some capacity since that night with the troll. I know that this war could end with some of us dead. But I will not be forced to make some arbitrary ‘choice’ between the two of you. Not to mention that having been bonded to you both has no doubt had a huge influence on my feelings.”

“Our bond wouldn’t do that,” Harry said forcefully. “It’s different.” 

“How do you know?” Hermione asked, curious. What does he know? Could he have found out what kind of bond it is? But how? 

“It’s a slave bond. Snape says it’s alchemy, it's all rather confusing.  But the main thing, the most important thing is that if I die you will lose your soul. There are no love feelings or coercion attached to that. It is an evil thing that has been forced on us,” Harry’s voice grew bitter as he described the bond. “You have feelings for me and I have feelings for you. That is real. But we will break this bond so that you can be free and, even if - Merlin forbid - you do die in this war, your soul will be able to move on. As for your bond with Snape, he’s already working on breaking your bond with him as well. We both want you free to make your own choices and to not have to sacrifice anything else.” 

His vehemence took her by surprise. A moment of panic rose in her chest. The bonds have to remain intact, damn these stupid men and their savior complexes. Resolutely, Hermione stood up and took a seat next to the dark-haired boy and took his hand, affecting her voice with a melancholy tone, hoping to sway Harry’s determination, “Harry, you can’t reverse an alchemic bond unless you’re the one who cast it.”

“I know! Snape told me. We have to find a way to get Dumbledore to understand that we don’t need the bond to make sure Voldemort is defeated. I never wanted anyone, least of all you to die for me. I won’t let it happen and neither will Snape,” the conviction in his voice was admirable. She didn’t have the heart to break it. Dumbledore, of course…I’ll explain more later when the time is right.

“Harry, I think we need to prioritize the last horcrux. I still think you are one but I have a feeling I know what the other one is,” Hermione tried to steer the conversation. 

“The snake. I told you that Snape is supposed to be working on an antivenom for Nagini. He’s put off doing it to help you. But even if it’s not one of them, it would be good to have everyone carrying around the antivenom in case of another attack,” The young man went off on a tangent about how he had seen the vision of Hermione being taken to Voldemort through the eyes of the snake. This is practically confirmation. Harry is a horcrux, an unintentional horcrux. So the slave bond may come in handy after all. Hermione was deep in thought when Harry nudged her and said they needed to head to Snape’s.

—----------------------

Severus stood staring into the fire in the hearth wondering how his past self would have reacted to the motley crew that was spread across his quarters. Remus and Sirius were on the sofa talking in low voices, calm and uncaring that they were once his personal nightmares. Ron, Draco, and Ginny were at the small dining table also talking vehemently amongst each other, paying no mind to the adults in attendance. Lucius was sitting in the armchair right behind him, looking simultaneously disdained and curious. Finally, Narcissa was playing hostess and making her rounds with tea and small snacks. They were waiting for Hermione and Harry. 

Once Hermione awoke the day before, Severus retired to his rooms to get his first good night’s sleep since her kidnapping. He loathed leaving her but he had run himself ragged and had taken entirely too much pepper-up potion and coffee to get through the days. He at least knew that Harry would not let Hermione out of his sight. With the Order meeting that night, it would be the first confrontation following Hermione’s reckless acts and he had wanted the group to convene and prepare themselves for what was to come.

There was a knock on the door to his classroom which caught them all off guard as Severus had keyed his wards to everyone who was meant to be at this meeting. He bid everyone to keep quiet as he made his way from his chambers, through his office, and to the door that led to the classroom. When he opened the door with a jolt he was surprised to find Luna Lovegood looking up at him with a faint smile. 

“Good afternoon, Professor. I know you’re all to be meeting with Hermione soon and I would very much like to see how she is doing. If you don’t mind,” Her icy blue eyes seemed to penetrate his own and he instinctively slammed down his occlumency walls. “Hmm don’t worry Professor, I don’t need to read your mind to know that you are all meeting tonight.”

Stunned by the out-of-character words from the young Ravenclaw, Severus stepped aside and let her walk straight into his office and on through to his quarters. He followed the diminutive blond into the sitting room where Harry and Hermione had joined the rest of the group. What talking that was taking place immediately stopped at the sight of Miss Lovegood. 

“Luna? What are you doing here?” Hermione stepped forward, taking the younger girl’s hands in her own, a smile on her face. 

“I just wanted to check on you, Hermione. I was worried that You-Know-Who would have an easier time getting information after I helped you restore your memories. Even though I know how well-protected your library is,” Luna smiled back at her friend. The rest of the room shifted and mumbled at the new information. 

“You have your memories back?” Harry blurted out. 

Hermione sighed and turned to look around the room. When her eyes met him they were apologetic. “Yes, right before I went to the Room of Lost Things. I had worked with Luna to get them back. She is the one who taught me occlumency.” 

There were exclamations of incredulity at the confession. So this is the missing piece. Has she always known about Hermione’s plans? 

“As exciting and surprising as that news is, I think we need to start with the basics before we lose control of this meeting. I want everyone on the same page before the Order meets tonight,” Severus said. Hermione came to stand beside him and Harry sat next to Black on the sofa. “As we can all see I was able to pull Hermione out of her deep occlusion. We spoke about what had happened to her and she confirmed that the Dark Lord entered her mind but was unable to retrieve any useful information. She was able to push him out and keep him out.”

“Blimey, Hermione, are you sure you’re ok? Having the snake bastard in your head must have been terrible,” Ron chimed in only to be shushed by his sister. 

“Yes it was terrible but I managed. Severus and I were able to work through and repair as much of the mental trauma as possible before I woke up. This should emphasize to everyone here how important Occlumency is,” Hermione looked pointedly at Harry. 

“Let me do a quick recap for you, Hermione, before we get sidetracked and take a cram course in mind magic,” Sirius chimed in, standing and approaching the younger Gryffindor, “I am happy to see you well, kitten. I was worried once I saw you after we pulled you out of the Malfoy hellhole.”

Severus tried not to be irked at the pet name and was satisfied when Hermione grimaced.

“Sirius, don’t call me that. I still can’t believe Harry told you about the Polyjuice incident in second year,” The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes. 

“I needed some form of entertainment while I was holed up in Grimmauld Place, Hermione. Anyway, you succeeded in the destruction of the diadem. Harry was able to see your location from the perspective of the snake. Remus and I think that the snake is another horcrux and so far the rest of this lot agrees. Dumbledore is allowing refugees into Hogwarts but has some ‘adjustments’ that will be discussed at the meeting,” Sirius looked around the room as the other occupants nodded along. “Sevvy is still trying to figure out how to break the bond between you two and we all know there is another bond between you and Harry.” 

“You told them?” Hermione looked at Harry, admonishment on her lips. 

“I told them. We know the bond between you and Harry must be broken by the caster and is alchemic,” Severus hoped she realized he had not divulged the use of that particular bond. “With Dumbledore’s recent reactions to events surrounding you, we believe Dumbledore placed the bond and it is unlikely we will get him to remove it without some other plan in place. Now that you have your memories we can work on breaking our soul bond. I do not want you to have to suffer if I am ever captured again.” 

“No,” Hermione’s tone was steely. Severus met her gaze and saw the determination there. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He shot back, his voice a low rumble. 

“Our bond stays intact. I did the bond to save you and until this war is over I have no interest in breaking it,” She said resolutely. Severus balked at her response. Stubborn, foolish, infuriating girl. Why must you vex me so?

“Hermione, you can’t be serious?” Harry stood, glaring at her. Idiot boy, how many times must I tell him to control his negative emotions, Severus thought to himself as the boy continued. “Why the hell don’t you want to break the bond?” 

“Hermione, I have to agree with Harry,” Severus winced as he said it, “With your memories returned you can outline to Narcissa and me how you modified Un Anima Duo. Your life would no longer be at risk in connection with mine. It will spare us both.”

“While I’m sure with enough time you may be able to create a way to break the bond, we do not have the luxury of unlimited time. I would rather our efforts go towards preparing for the war. I’ve seen the Prophet. More and more muggles and muggleborns are dying and we have to do something about it,” Her hair crackled with magic as she grew more irritated. 

“No, you don’t get to change the subject, Hermione,” Harry stepped closer to her, his voice forceful, “If we can’t break the one between us without Dumbledore, then we should prioritize the other.”

“I do not want to break the bond. If my life is lost to keep Severus alive long enough to survive this war, then it would be a great use of it. After all, I intended to die when I implemented it so the bond would have been defunct. I had not planned to have to deal with any of this or the rest of the war. But I am here and I will be making my own decisions about my own damn life and who the hell I am bonded to,” She snapped harshly. 

The room erupted with outrage and gasps of surprise. Severus knew that revealing Hermione’s mental state at the beginning of the year had not truly convinced the Gryffindors that she held her life to so little value. But confronted with the woman in question saying it herself, was a dramatic shift that shook the righteous lions to their cores.

“You don’t mean that, do you, Hermione? That you meant to die?” Ginny spoke for the first time since the meeting started. Her eyes glistened with tears. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione looked away. 

“Like hell, it doesn’t matter!” Sirius was nearly yelling, “You were going to sacrifice yourself for him,” he pointed an accusing finger at the Potions Master, “When Harry needs you!?”

“Harry is his own person and I have already given him as much of my skills and protection as I can. What have you done except encourage his recklessness and hatred?” Hermione pinched her nose, exasperated. With the return of her memories, her demeanor had changed again. She was more confrontational and nihilistic, a change that did not sit well with Severus.

“Hermione,” Remus interjected, pulling Sirius to sit back down. “What are you not telling us?”

So the wolf had noticed it too. There was more to the bond and her own sacrifices. Hermione sighed heavily. It was bone weary and seemed to age her before their eyes. “You will not like what I have done.”

“Miss Granger, I dare say that they already disapprove of your acts of sacrifice. What’s a little more disapproval in the face of problems they cannot solve?” Lucius sneered. He may have turned coat but he seemed to be enjoying the turmoil being wrought amongst the rest of the room. 

Hermione tilted her head, examining the blond with a curious expression as if she had just registered his presence. “You’ve blown your cover as well then?”

“That was my sacrifice to the great endeavor to bring you back alive. Suffice to say the Order is not pleased and it will be another thing for the old coot to blame you for, Miss Granger,” Lucius answered lazily. 

“Thank you. I know it was a huge risk. But I am happy you are alive,” Hermione’s sincere words seemed to surprise Lucius but eventually he tipped his head in acceptance. “I would offer to remove your Dark Mark but I would rather not go through another ritual. Adding blood magic to a binding ceremony takes a lot out of a person.”

Severus closed his eyes. Remus and Sirius gasped and the Weasleys looked horrified. How could I have forgotten? She had cut herself during the ritual. She was covered in blood when I woke up. Lucius’ eye twitched and Narcissa looked grave.

“What part of the ritual used Blood Magic, Hermione?” Narcissa held Hermione at arm's length as if she couldn’t decide whether to comfort her or admonish her. 

“Un Anima Duo, in its original form, only creates the core tethering which would come into effect only when needed. I modified the ritual to use some of the energy that would create the core tethering to funnel into a cleansing spell.” Hermione explained, looking only at Narcissa. Severus listened intently. “The cleansing spell to remove something as dark as the Mark and the other vows he had taken needed a willing sacrifice. By adding an aspect of blood magic, my blood was used as a vessel to focus the magical energy of the core tethering. It was a conduit to control the magic that the ritual brings forth. Severus was not in mortal danger but I needed to trigger the funneling of my magic to divert it into the cleansing. The focused blood magic was able to complete the cleansing and take on any negative consequences.” 

“Negative consequences?” Harry asked, transfixed by the explanation. 

Hermione glanced back at Severus and then Lucius before answering, “There is a built-in defensive spell in the Dark Marks that retaliates should someone try to remove it. By using blood magic I was able to redirect the retaliation towards myself which should have killed me.”

“Blood Magic is very dark magic Hermione,” Ginny said quietly. “It would have left a mark on your soul.” 

“Yes, well, I am not the only person in this room with a tainted soul. I do not regret what I did,” She replied confidently. Her eyes found him and she smiled softly, “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Luna stood, drawing the attention of the room, “It’s nearly dinner. Thank you for allowing me inside, Professor Snape.” 

Without another word she left through the door, she came and presumably through his office and out of his classroom. As everyone else stood, murmuring amongst themselves and trying to process what they had all learned, Severus took Hermione by the arm and dragged her into his bedroom. Silently he warded them inside and turned to her. 

“Hermione, I need you to be honest with me.” He spoke solemnly. She nodded. “Did you create the Alchemic bond between you and Harry?” 

“No,” Hermione answered confidently, her eyes unwavering, “I am not an alchemist. But I knew what had to be done, so I found a way.”

“But you know who did?” He implored. She turned away. He took her chin and turned her face to his. “It wasn’t Dumbledore. You asked someone to cast Vittas Vitae on you and Harry, didn’t you?”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she nodded again. Severus closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. Without opening them he asked one last question, “You intend to keep the slave bond in place no matter what I say or do?”

“I won’t let Harry die,” Hermione pulled back and looked him in the eye, conviction evident in her being. “I won’t let you die either. The bonds stay intact.”

“Hermione-”

“No, Severus. The bonds stay intact. If I don’t do this there is a high likelihood that neither of you will survive. I couldn’t live in a world where that is my reality. You cannot change my mind,” She said, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. 

“You expect me to live in a world without you now that I have experienced what it is like to love you, Hermione?” Severus’s voice cracked as the depth of her sacrifice settled in. 

Rather than answering, she kissed him. Even in his sorrow, his emotional defenses were no match for the passion and love she poured into him so freely. She swallowed his gasps and gripped his cheeks firmly, refusing to let him pull away. His hands fisted at her sides but that did not last. He wrapped her in his embrace, pulling her flush against him as they kissed as if their lives depended on it. Severus felt her tears and knew that she could taste his. Their tears turned their love to salt. 

Chapter Text

Hermione sat at one end of the long table, avoiding making eye contact with the Headmaster, who sat on the other end. Severus was seated to her right and Harry to her left. Harry held one of her hands on the table's corner, while Severus sat without looking at her. The rest of the Order shuffled into their seats as the clock struck 9 in the evening. She scanned the table and noticed that their little ‘study group’ had all chosen to sit towards her end of the table rather than towards the Headmaster. 

The Headmaster ignored her return as various members of the Order working for the Ministry reported Voldemort's increased control over the governing body. Hermione knew this was a certainty. All dictators ensured they gained influence over the government before manipulating it to bring them to power. Even before the end of last school year, she had suspected that the Ministry was to be held at arm's length at best and completely disregarded at worst.  

Harry squeezed her hand and she instinctively squeezed back. Glancing at her dear friend, her heart clenched at the obvious love in his eyes. Her mind flew to the emotionally charged moments she had just shared with Severus in his rooms. 

“You expect me to live in a world without you now that I have experienced what it is like to love you, Hermione?” Severus’s voice cracked. 

She felt her heart swell to bursting. It was undeniable now; she had fallen in love with Severus Snape, regardless of her respect or any bonds. Even the light tug of her bond with Harry couldn’t stop her from grabbing him and kissing him, willing the older man to understand that she loved him too. The taste of their tears, as he pulled her flush against him with his hands on her hips, only made her heart ache. 

Hermione pressed her chest more firmly against his as she cupped his cheeks and then let her fingers weave through his hair. Any resolve she may have had to push him away or refuse her feelings, quickly dissipated. She wanted to melt into his chest, bury herself where she knew she would be safe. Heat pooled in her belly and she could feel him reacting to their loving acts. She moaned softly against his lips. 

His hands moved to her cheeks a moment later, cradling them in his palms. When they parted they were out of breath. The electricity in the air seemed to intensify as they held each other. Her breath hitched as he gently thumbed away the remnants of her tears. 

Hermione searched his eyes, trying to find one bit of disdain or anger to cling to. She wanted him to blame her for being reckless and selfish, something she could manipulate to make sure that her death wouldn’t break him when it came. But they were filled with love and sorrow so deep that tears welled up again in her eyes. Her fingers flexed against the back of his neck where they had landed after their journey through his silken hair. Hermione found her voice and reverently whispered to him, “I love you.” 

The dark man’s eyes widened at the admission before he shut them and dipped his head. Hermione wondered for a moment if Severus had ever had those words spoken to him. When the surprise finally passed, he pulled her into a firm hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders, tight. She doubted anyone had ever seen or experienced Severus as vulnerable as he was now. He buried his head into her hair, near her ear. “If you love me, don’t leave me.”

There they were–the only words he could have said that would make her regret the plans she had put in motion. He clung to her and repeated the words over and over again. Their proximity and the strength of their emotions were doubly overwhelming, their own and the ones echoing through the bond singing between them. If they didn’t collect themselves now, they would dissolve into a useless heap, and she couldn’t let that happen; there was too much to do. With firm hands, she pushed his chest, and he relinquished his hold on her. The ex-spy’s face was eerily blank, stoic as he brushed away the evidence of his emotions. His eyes were steely. They were not the eyes of the tortured professor, nor the softened look of the man she saved. Severus showed nothing and was occluding himself from the bond and her. She could almost feel him moving away from her even as they still stood before each other.

“You intend to see this through to the end,” he said, his voice low and rough. It had been a long time since she had heard his voice sound that way when directed at herself. 

“Yes.” 

“You will die for Potter when the time comes.” It was a statement. An acknowledgment of the ultimate sacrifice she had set up for herself.

“If it comes to that,” Hermione didn’t like the dead look in his eyes. Silence stretched between them that was so heavy it seemed to press down on her chest. She searched the black eyes of the man she had grown to love and saw only pain. 

“Get out. I do not wish to be near you,” his voice was rife with the hatred and anguish she had been silently begging for earlier. But to hear the words spoken out loud choked her. Severus turned, waving a hand, causing the bedroom door to swing open powerfully. 

“I will do as you wish. I will let you die for Harry Potter,” he turned his back to her, “you will not be the first person I lose that way.”

He hadn’t given Hermione a chance to react as he sent a gentle spell that pushed her out of his room and into the hallway. The wards slammed shut, and she found she was no longer keyed to open them. She had wanted to weep, to scream and cry, but she folded her feelings away into her library. Severus may have let her go but the bond was still there, and she could at least be reassured that he would be safe during the battle. Her body and magic were his. 

Hermione jerked slightly when Harry pulled her out of her thoughts, “You alright, Hermione? You’re shaking.”

“Just tired,” she replied softly, returning her attention to the meeting. Harry still held her hand and rubbed a comforting thumb into it. The small gesture was enough to remind her why she had wanted the bond in the first place. Harry had always been her emotional confidant. He wasn’t like Ron who joked harshly and made fun of her habits. He was not like Ginny who was a social butterfly with a public love life that made her feel inadequate at times.  He was just Harry, who held Hermione when she cried, brought her treats when she had been studying for too long, and talked to her about muggle movies and songs. She squeezed his hand, and he in turn entwined their fingers. From her periphery, Severus didn’t spare them a glance. 

“You can’t be serious, Albus?” Remus’s voice cut through her bubble of emotions. He was sitting on Severus’s other side but had stood with his exclamation. “It’s one thing to allow refugees into Hogwarts but to stop classes and replace them with training? You are suggesting a militarization of the youth you have sworn to protect!”

Hermione’s eyes widened as the argument quickly grew heated. She was thankful that Hogwarts was housing families that were fleeing attacks from Death Eaters, but this was a new development. Dumbledore suggested replacing the regular courses with lengthier ‘training sessions’ for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Healing, and dueling.

“Albus, I can already tell that the 7th years would probably welcome the training as they are stubborn enough to join the fight and old enough to at least not be completely useless. But they are all still children. What of the younger students?” McGonagall asked, looking aghast. 

“4th year and under will reside in the castle and will be trained on escape routes and evacuation plans. After all, the castle must be empty of those who cannot fight when Tom decides to strike. But I intended that 5th year and above could participate in combat training voluntarily,” the Headmaster was calm with his explanation. 

“You hear me now, Albus Dumbledore! I let you talk me into letting Ginny and Ron into the Order but I will not let you jeopardize their education by turning them into soldiers!” Molly Weasley screeched. Hermione wondered for a moment if her mother would have reacted in a similarly vehement fashion.

“Mum, it’s alright. I wanna learn,” Ron said, trying to appease his mother, and looked to his siblings and father for help. 

“I’m going to have to agree with Molly on this one, Albus.” Arthur Weasley had lost his gentle lilt and replaced it with a voice only a father could have. “Don’t you think you are asking too much of them? You wouldn’t have even considered this during the first Wizarding War.” 

“No, I did not consider it the first time. Tom and his ilk were very much an underground threat when he was first gaining power, but now they have expanded the playing field. We need all the wands we can get,” Dumbledore explained further, looking at the large group of redheads. “Those here are the main core of the official Order, a measly 30 individuals. While some of us are formidable, 30 people cannot battle an army, and that is what Tom has. Even if the good people of  Hogsmeade and the other professors joined the fray, we would be greatly outnumbered. The war is here, my dear friends. We cannot pretend it is some distant nightmare. Would you rather the students be prepared for the worst or bank on the few of us being able to protect so many? Already there have been sightings of Death Eaters on the edges of Hogsmeade, and of course the recent kidnapping of Miss Granger. The war is on our doorstep.” 

“I hate to admit it, folks, but I think the Headmaster is right,” Tonks said, her hair was brown instead of its usual purple, as if her body knew that this was not the time or place for playful colors, “Let the older students choose if they would like the training. I can help with it. I don’t want to go back to the Aurory now that there is a target on my back. Of course, the refugee families and the younger children can be trained on evacuations, and we can set up safe houses. It was starting to seem a bit silly that we were allowing children to continue taking their courses like their lives weren’t actively in danger. Every day the Daily Prophet reports more and more attacks by his followers while the Ministry allows them to get away with it. ” 

The room broke out in murmurs as everyone considered what this all meant. Hermione watched with interest and noted that Severus hadn’t said anything. His eyes were flitting around the room, obviously deep in thought. Hermione wondered if he was thinking about how much he had already sacrificed and what it may cost his soul to teach his student how to fight in a war. She wished she could feel what he was feeling but he had shut her out as much as he could. 

She looked at Harry who was whispering to his godfather. Hermione had known from her first year that she would be by Harry’s side no matter what he had to go through. Each year she proved that to be true. The training was a good strategy, she had to admit, but she was also one of the ‘children’ that everyone was so outraged about protecting. She imagined for a moment if she ever had a sibling or child and if she would want them to train for war in this way. Hermione knew that she wouldn’t. 

Harry grabbed her attention from her internal musings as he spoke to the group, “I want the training. I know a lot of the older students would agree that it is a necessity. Dumbledore is right, the war is here. There is no point in trying to maintain ‘normal’ when it is anything but.

I do think that the fifth years should be trained mostly in a defensive manner with the understanding that they will lead the younger students to safety, along with the muggleborn families. We will not be able to spare a strong wand for those evacuating. The fifth years can act as leads for each group, making sure the plans are followed to a tee and can defend if anyone follows them. Fifth years may be old enough for the Tri-Wizard Tournament but I don’t think it’s old enough to have to kill when necessary. 

Sirius interjected confidently, obviously proud of Harry, “I think that’s an excellent idea, Harry. The unfortunate truth is that the students today will be growing up fairly quickly in this war. As adults, we must prepare them, even if it is not in the way we had hoped.”

“Thank you, Sirius. I will take your suggestions into account as we continue organizing this monumental change. In the meantime, I would like Order members to get into contact with every Muggleborn family you know and offer them refuge here. The castle is vast and will accommodate them,” Dumbledore continued, smiling softly to himself in a way that made her skin crawl. “I will work with my fellow professors in strengthening the protections and wards on the castle and grounds. Hogwarts will become our fortress as we wage war.”

The meeting drew to a close with Dumbledore asking for Harry to follow him to his office. Hermione waylaid her curiosity in favor of getting a moment with Sirius and Remus to tell them to hold back some of the other inner circle Order members. 

—-----------------------------

Severus had done his best occluding during the Order meeting, succeeding in containing his roiling emotions. He absentmindedly watched as Hermione approached Sirius and Remus, casting a long glance around the room. He wondered if the pain in his chest at the sight of her would ever abate. Despite the resolve he had earlier after he kicked her out of his rooms, he longed to apologize. The bond was simmering beneath the surface, mocking him. The epiphany from their earlier interaction was still fresh in his mind. 

When she was outside of his wards and locked out, he wailed, allowing his magic to blast outward, splintering the wood of his four-post bed and breaking the small mirror over his dresser. His thoughts berated and mocked him.

Fool! You thought she would choose you? You old pervert. Ugly, greasy, git! She would rather die for him than live for you! She would leave you to protect him. It doesn’t matter what might happen to you if she dies as long as Potter can have her soul!

Severus could already feel the tears falling again. Pathetic. He, the man who had deceived the Dark Lord himself, was reduced to this broken plebeian. Severus growled, rubbing the tears away with rough hands. He wished to drown in a bottle of Ogden’s Finest but threw the idea out immediately, remembering the meeting to come. He would see them all there, knowing everything. Knowing that she loved him back but was still so fucking heroic that she would martyr her soul to another.

Destiny must love to mock him. He had finally fallen in love again, and he would lose her to another Potter. Was this poetic justice? It was his fault for telling the Dark Lord about the prophecy all those years ago. Was he fated to suffer alone? This had to be Karma’s sick game. No matter what he did, he would never be able to make up for all the horrible things he had done. He would never find absolution.

Severus thought Hermione would be the one to grant it to him. His mind drifted back to the damnable bond. The bond he had found comfort and solace in as they had grown closer. He would not reach for it now. Severus scoffed at himself. He had thought she would be his salvation, his retribution. Delusional. She wasn’t supposed to have survived. If they had not tried so hard to save her, then he would have lived the rest of his life in gratitude to a ghost. 

Despite his inner turmoil, the thought of her death was still too painful to consider. If this was what she wanted, he would make sure she survived long enough to save Saint Potter. He would finally break the bond between himself and Hermione. He knew how. 

Well, theoretically he knew how. It was for purely selfish reasons that he had never brought it up to her. He looked at his cluttered side table and found one of her journals. It was another cleansing ritual that she had considered when modifying Un Anima Duo. Now that he knew she had used blood magic, it made this ritual the most ideal to succeed. Their bond was bound to their mortal bodies through blood. The ritual was based on the blood arts and was very specific. Of course, he could be wrong, but did he want to be bound to her when her soul left her? Did he want to feel her being spiritually devoured? It would kill him. 

That was the core of everything. Hermione had become so important to him, the star of every positive memory, the only person since Lily that he wanted to share a future with. He wanted her so badly and had embraced the bond so wholeheartedly, that breaking it felt like a betrayal to himself. 

He wasn’t thinking straight. The former spy slouched on his bed, yanking at his hair. The bond was special to him; it was a connection so bright and light it was blinding. He had experienced so little light in his life that when he thought it could be reversed, he shunned the very idea. She had said she loved him. No amount of love would free her from her self-sacrificing nature. So he would free himself from her. 

Severus was drawn out of his thoughts as he felt wards being put up around the room. He looked up and found that most of the Order was gone except for the most trusted of the group. Potter was off with Dumbledore and would not be present for whatever she was planning. Hermione gestured for the remaining members to take a seat at the table that remained. Their ‘horcrux study group,’ as Draco had come to call it, were already seated as they watched Minerva, Hagrid, Kingsley, Nymphadora, and the remaining Weasleys wander back to the table. 

“Thank you for staying. There is something we wish to discuss about the mission Dumbledore had assigned to Harry,” Hermione intoned. She looked around the room, took a deep breath then continued, “Have any of you considered how You-Know-Who was able to come back?”

“Well o’ course we ‘ave ‘ermione,” Hagrid replied, looking pensive. Severus wondered for a moment why she had included the half-giant, but he had no energy to question it at the moment. 

“Have any of you ever heard of a horcrux?” She asked the room. Kingsley gasped, and Nymphadora’s hair flashed bright red, then black before settling flat on her head. 

It didn’t take long for Hermione, with her concise and logical understanding, to explain in layman’s terms what the cursed objects were, Harry’s mission, and how all but Nagini had been destroyed. Everyone gasped at the appropriate times, became a little indignant with the number of people who had already been allowed into the fold of knowledge, and by the end, everyone looked solemn and contemplative.

“I tell you all of this because we will need everyone looking out for the snake once the battle comes. Harry will not be able to defeat You-Know-Who for good if it lives.” Hermione looked around the room. He felt her gaze on his face and ignored it, knowing his resolve to let her go would crumble if he did. 

“You’re so sure that Mister Potter will rise to the task? Or are you just sure that he will at least live long enough to try now that he has a second life?” Lucius asked seriously. “Your bond to him will save him but kill you. Who knows what it would do to Severus?”

“Wait, did you do the same bond with Harry? Will he pull from your magical core the same way that you do with Snape?” Sirius asked, brow furrowed.

“No, it is not the same. It is more foolproof. Harry will lose nothing with this bond, unlike Severus, who shares emotions and physical reactions with me,” Hermione answered quickly. Her tone of voice told him that she didn’t want to explain the dark bond. 

“I think it’s time you told them all that you’ve done Hermione,” he intervened. They needed to know the lengths she had gone. It may have been spiteful to make her admit it all but they deserved to know the stakes.

“I think it would be better if I explained it, Professor, don’t you think?” Luna’s ethereal voice broke through the growing tension in the room like a cold bucket of water. He could tell from everyone else’s surprise that no one had known she was there, but more importantly, she shouldn’t have been there. 

He finally turned to see Hermione’s reaction, and her shoulders were slumped in resignation. Everyone waited with bated breath for what Luna was going to say while she gracefully made her way from one end of the table to Hermione’s side. Severus wondered if she were part veela, with how decidedly inhuman she seemed at times. Lovegood laid a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder, then surveyed the room. 

“I’m Luna Lovegood for those of you who don’t know. I performed Vittas Vitae on Hermione and Harry earlier this school year.” The gravity of what she said was not lost to any of those present. He expected nothing less from aurors, scholars, and purebloods. He was coming to terms with the orchestrator being the diminutive witch and not the old wizard he had come to revile. 

“A slave bond!?” Sirius yelled. Severus could tell that those who weren’t familiar with the Latin name of the bonding ritual had put together the pieces at the mutt’s exclamation.“You put a slave bond on them?” 

“Who is the benefactor, Hermione?” Molly asked, although everyone instinctively knew the answer. 

Luna replied, a small smile on her face, “Why Harry Potter of course! He has to survive to the end.”

“Remove it at once!” Minerva, having caught up to the revelations, thundered, standing from her seat. 

“She can’t and she won’t,” Hermione answered stonily.  Severus closed his eyes, suddenly predicting what she would say next, “I made her take an oath. She cannot remove the bond under any circumstances.”

The room was silent but  Severus was seething. An oath. So she knew there was no way to break it! She knew that it was a fruitless endeavor to even try!

“You made her take an oath? You asked for this?” Remus’s brow was furrowed, a grave frown marring his face. With the truth of the nature of the bond, the werewolf was visibly devastated. He met Severus’s eyes as if he would explain it all away, but a shake of his head made the scruffy man close his eyes in understanding. 

“Miss Granger, Hermione. Do you understand what you have done? A Master’s slave bond of all things?” Minerva seemed to collapse in on herself as she cradled her head in her hands. Her voice mumbled, “You’ve damned your soul.”

Inexplicably, Severus laughed. It was mirthless and rang with the same emptiness as the laugh Hermione had produced that fateful day at the beginning of term. He could feel their judgemental eyes on him. Even Lucius was confused by his outburst. The chuckling continued for a while longer before he finally dissolved into derisive snorts as he spoke. “Damnation! No, her soul will be devoured like a Dementor sucking the life from an Azkaban escapee. She has deemed her soul so worthless that she will not even allow it to reunite with her parents in the afterlife or experience the punishment of someone who invoked blood magic! You know, Hermione, when exactly did you and Miss Lovegood ever find the time to place the bond?”

Hermione looked at him like he had grown a second head but Luna was the one to answer. “The day before term.”

The realization hit him in the chest and any mirth, forced or not was expelled from his being. He rounded on Hermione standing from his seat and rising to his full height, “That night on the Astronomy Tower, you were making sure killing yourself would lock the slave bond in place. If you weren’t alive, then you didn’t have to worry about someone discovering the bond and convincing you to remove it.”

Hermione didn’t say anything as he raged at her. He shifted his gaze back to Luna, who seemed to be the only one willing to answer him. “When did she make you take the oath, Miss Lovegood?”

This got Hermione’s attention at last, “No, Luna, don’t!”

Luna looked back and forth between Hermione and Severus before finally answering, “After the meeting in your quarters, before we went to dinner here in the Great Hall.” 

All at once Severus felt like his world was ending all over again. He grabbed Hermione by the arms and shook her, “YOU HAD AN OUT AND YOU GOT RID OF IT TODAY!?”

He heard people calling his name and felt Remus try to pull him away from Hermione. For her part, Hermione said nothing while refusing to meet his eye. He shook off Remus and grabbed her chin, “Look at me, you frustrating harridan! You would damn any effort I put into surviving? Surviving so that I never have to drain your magical core! So that you may live the long life you deserve! You took the only way to get rid of your slave bond when I have spent months trying to break it. You could have walked into this war without having to martyr yourself and yet in all your Gryffindor stupidity, you threw it away!”

Anger finally rose in her honey eyes. The bond between them burst to life in hot buffeting winds, sensing the turmoil and pain of its hosts as she yelled back, “YOU SAID YOU WOULD LET ME DIE!”

“After everything we have been through, after every promise I made to keep you alive, you finally take me seriously?! When I am nothing more than a weeping man before the woman he is bound to by body and soul, fueled by your rejection, THAT IS WHEN YOU FINALLY TAKE MY WORD?!” Severus was aware of nothing else but the young woman in front of him, radiant and powerful; deserving of life. He could feel their magic fighting as furiously as they yelled at each other. Severus knew his grip was firm as he flitted from emotion to emotion, lost in the whirlwind. He searched for remorse in her eyes and when he found none he growled, his grip on her tightening. Hermione winced at his strength. 

Then the tears began to fall, and the fight left him. 

Her shaking hand touched his cheek, “Severus, I’m sorry.”

Severus pushed her away. He turned on his heel and headed for the doors. He paused, his voice rough with emotion, “Harry may yet accept your sacrifice for the greater good, but I refuse it. Your body and magic will not perish to preserve me for a world where you will have been taken from me.”

—---------------------

Harry was growing more anxious by the minute. He knew something was going on back at the Great Hall that was more than just the meeting they had planned. He wanted to run to Hermione but Dumbledore was grilling him on the horcruxes. There was a part of Harry that was proud of all that they had accomplished, despite the turmoil.

“I must say, Harry, you have moved much faster and much more efficiently than I expected, even with your unfortunate complications with Miss Granger,” Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and silently gestured for Harry to take one. 

“I couldn’t have done it without help,” Harry replied, still itching to leave the room. 

“Of course, of course, Harry. But in the end, you will still be the one to face Tom. You have grown into a formidable wizard. As long as you remain focused you will be able to win this war,” Dumbledore said indulgently. 

The obvious attempt to boost his ego fell flat. Ironically, as a seventh year, this year had only taught him how naive and untrained he was. “Professor, I credit the success of the search for the horcruxes to Hermione, Snape, the Weasleys, and everyone else who assisted me. I don’t know where we would be if I had to do this by myself.”

There was a glint in Dumbledore’s eye that told him the older man was displeased at Harry’s refusal to take credit. But the glint diminished with a sudden change in topic. “How are you handling your affections toward Miss Granger? It has come to my attention that Severus and Hermione have come into quite a relationship. It would not do for you to hang your feelings on someone with their own agenda.”

“Professor, I would rather not talk about Hermione,” Harry looked at the headmaster with suspicion. 

“Yes, of course. The quaint sting of youthful and flighty love affairs. I’m sure you will find a witch more deserving and less selfish when the time is right, Harry. Do not fret,” The man was twinkling again. Rather than the warmth it used to bring him, Harry felt a chill race up his spine. 

“Hermione is more deserving of love than anyone. I resent your comments, Professor,” He tried to control his reactions, fighting the urge to leave the room and the old man behind. 

Dumbledore laughed, wearing the grandfatherly persona like a favorite jumper. “Oh, Harry. It is quite normal to continue to carry a bias for someone for a while after rejection. I’m sure you will see that Miss Granger is far more Slytherin than you have a history to tolerate.”

“Shut up!” Harry finally snapped, “How dare you! Hermione and I have a soul bond! I couldn’t feel negatively toward her if I tried. But you should know, you’re the one who cast it. I know what it does. I won’t be following your little plan. I won’t risk her soul!”

The room seemed to dim for a moment before returning to normal. Then to Harry’s astonishment, the headmaster laughed, “Your heroics have only grown as you have. Why would I remove a slave bond that would keep you alive? Even if I did cast it I wouldn’t get rid of the failsafe that is being offered to me.”

“You didn’t cast it?” Harry was stunned. 

“No, Harry. Though it’s a stroke of genius. With the piece of Tom inside of you, this could very well save your soul while allowing for the destruction of the horcrux you carry,” he tilted his head in amusement. 

“So Hermione was right, you’ve always known I was a horcrux. You were planning on letting me die,” Harry clutched at his chest. Years of seeing the Professor as his mentor seemed to crumble within him. 

“I wasn’t certain until last year. All the pieces finally came together,” His chuckle was dark and he sneered at him. This was the man who killed Grindelwald, not the quirky headmaster he was used to. 

“Why not just kill me the moment you learned what I was? Wouldn’t that have been easier than letting all these people die? You could have gotten rid of me first and then the rest of the horcruxes and then Tom. We are waging a war that wasn’t necessary!” Harry stood, betrayal sinking into his very bones. 

“No, Harry, you are the one fated to defeat Tom. I will not tempt fate,” Dumbledore replied seriously. For a moment the headmaster looked to be thinking about something very far away. Then he snapped back to attention. “But ‘what ifs’ are useless, Harry. I do think it’s time for you to head back to Gryffindor Tower. I suggest that you speak to Miss Lovegood when you get the chance. Her father told me himself that she has a talent for alchemy.”

___________

 Hermione couldn’t sleep. 

The whole day had been trying, but what bothered her most of all was how things had ended with Severus. She could admit to herself that she loved him. If she were honest, she would have told him she had figured out how to break the bond. 

Hermione hadn’t told anyone, but during her stint at Malfoy Manor and the hospital wing, her deep occlusion had felt like a year in her mind. With all the free time to organize her thoughts and research, she had fashioned two very promising options to break the bond. Options that she hid from Severus when he was finally able to reach her and help her reach the surface. 

The bond had become a source of so much positivity for her. The times with Severus, the connection they shared was magnified thousands of times because the bond kept them so in tune with each other. Before she was even comfortable enough to say that she loved him, she had already imagined scenarios where he wasn’t in love with her and it had been heartbreaking. So selfishly, she hid the solution. 

But after the rows they had today, Hermione wondered if it would be a mercy to remove the bond and just work extra hard to make sure he wasn’t killed in battle. As if she could keep up with him. 

At 3 a.m. she finally left her bed to see if some herbal tea would help. She was still weak from her stay in the hospital wing, and the emotional turmoil hadn’t done her any good. She was standing at her kitchenette waiting for the kettle to heat when there was an urgent knock on her door. In a moment she had her wand out and cautiously approached the doorway. The wards hadn’t warned her, so this person already had access to the rooms but was waiting outside. 

“I need to see you, Hermione.” Severus’s voice called through the door. 

Sighing with relief, she put down her wand on the counter and let him in. He strode confidently to the middle of her sitting room, dressed down in trousers and a white shirt. Severus watched her intensely as she approached him, keeping about half a meter between them. 

“Severus…” Hermione was at a loss for words. When she said his name, he had opened himself fully to the bond. She was overwhelmed with the feelings he had for her. Frustration. Love. Devotion. Regret. Heartbreak. Tears fell quickly from her eyes as she experienced the emotional turmoil he had been wading in because of their relationship. 

Severus closed the space between them, looking down into her eyes. They were now centimeters apart and she could feel his warm breath skate across her face. The heat from his body radiated toward her. Hermione suddenly became very aware that she was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Under his scrutiny, her body grew hot. They didn’t need the bond to coerce them into acting on the tension. 

They reached for each other at the same time. He pulled her by her waist into his firm body while she pulled him down for a kiss. The few walls she kept around the bond were completely obliterated as the kiss deepened, pulling mewls of pleasure from her mouth. Their lips did not part when he lifted her and urged her to wrap her legs around him. They remained latched at the lips, desperately tasting each other as he pressed her back into a wall. 

His lithe body held her up, and she could feel his arousal as his hips ground into her. Unconsciously, she chased the friction, moving her hips as they cradled his. Severus’s lips moved down to her neck as she whispered his name in a tone full of pleasure and need. He moaned her name with equal desperation against her neck. The low timber of his voice made a pleasurable wave travel up her spine. Her hands buried themselves into his hair as she pulled him back up for a kiss. But he pulled back. 

Undeterred, she tried to pull his lips back to hers, but he leaned further away. She ground herself against the placket of his trousers, eager to feel what was underneath. But still, he stayed away, just holding her and watching her, panting softly.

“Severus,” she pleaded, “Kiss me, please. I’m sorry about earlier. I love you. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry too, Hermione. I love you more than I should,” he caressed her cheek with his long fingers, his eyes filled with adoration and a tinge of sadness. 

“Severus, what’s wrong?” For a moment, Hermione wondered if she had fallen asleep and this was all just a dream. 

“Nothing.” He replied, gently playing with a curl of her hair. “I just want to remember this. I want to remember how you look when you say you love me. When you are wet with your need for me. I want to remember how red and swollen your lips get when we’ve snogged each other with more desperation than two fifth-years dating for the first time. I want to remember the feel of your body wrapped around me while you breathlessly moan my name. I want to remember how much love we have because of this bond.”

Hermione had a sinking feeling in her stomach that seemed to be partly her own and partly coming from him through the bond. Then she felt it. Her body gradually went limp without her urging. The edges of her vision blurred. She tried to look at him, tried to say something but he shushed her softly. Before she slipped completely into darkness, she heard him say, “I’m sorry, love.” 

Chapter Text

Draco stood across the hall from the gargoyle that marked the entryway to Dumbledore’s office. The ‘second’ Order meeting had finished shortly after his godfather had stormed out. Hermione had taken a moment to compose herself and then reiterated the importance of getting rid of Nagini before disappearing out of the room with Luna in tow. This had been the signal everyone needed to disperse and come up with their reactions to what they had all learned and witnessed. Draco, not wanting to be caught by anyone, sought out Harry instead. He knew that the other boy would want an update on what happened. Draco was curious to see what the Gryffindor thought of Luna’s involvement. 

Luna Lovegood had always been a wild card, but no one could have predicted this level of interference on her part. That she was an alchemist was unexpected and oddly unsurprising. It only made sense that the one witch in the school with the ability to perform nearly extinct magic would be Luna. Maybe it was his Slytherin side, but he couldn’t fathom Luna helping with such a bond when it wouldn’t benefit her. Although he recalled her mentioning a crush on their resident celebrity a few years ago. As if he could hear Draco’s thoughts, the spiral staircase appeared with the messy-haired hero stepping down. 

“Took you long enough, Hairbrain,” Draco said as soon as the other wizard appeared at the bottom of the staircase. Harry startled and then glowered at him. Draco, raising his hands in apology, continued, “Come on you. There are a few things you should know about the ‘second’ meeting. We finished only a little while ago and it was far from boring.” 

“Why? What’s happened? Where’s Hermione?” Harry let the questions spill from his lips. Draco shushed him as they walked to the main staircases on their way to the Head Girl dorm. The Slytherin worried for a moment how he would explain the argument between Hermione and Snape to the young man next to him. That familiar wave of pity rose within him at the inevitability of his friend’s heartbreak.

Steeling himself for the heavy topic, Draco sighed and took Harry by the shoulders. “No, nothing like that. But first, do you know what the bond between you and Hermione is?” 

“Yes,” He looked away, “Snape told me after they rescued Hermione. It’s a slave bond." 

“Then you know someone else placed it, not Hermione?”

“I thought it was Dumbledore but now I’m not so sure.”

The young Malfoy sighed, “It was Looney, Luna Lovegood. She admitted it to everyone at the meeting and Hermione, the complete cow she is, made Luna take an oath not to remove the bond under any circumstance,” Draco grimaced as he described the events. “We all know what Vittas Vitae does. Luna knew exactly what she was doing when she cast the spell.”

“Luna?” Harry was as skeptical as everyone else had been. “But that means she’s the only one who can remove it.”

“Yea. But, like I said, Hermione made her take an oath not to remove it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Uncle so angry,” Draco recalled the argument they had all witnessed where his godfather had been more emotional than he had ever known him to be. While it was happening Draco felt like he was an intruder in a lover’s quarrel. If he were honest, that’s exactly what it was. Whether they were physically ‘lovers’ meant nothing when their love for each other was becoming more and more apparent. The futility of everything was already getting to him, he couldn’t imagine what it was like for the trio at the center. “Without Luna, there is no way to remove the bond. Her soul is already forfeit.”

Harry was silent and unmoving. Draco allowed him the time he needed to process the news of Luna’s involvement. Finally, he looked up, worry in his eyes, “Is Hermione alright?”

“She wrapped up the meeting with the information on the snake and then ran off with Luna.”

“Why would Luna do all this? Agree to Hermione’s plans?” They continued talking as they made their way up the stairs, flight after flight. It relieved Draco that Harry was moving and concentrating on the conversation. With all the turmoil recently he had been weary of how Harry would react to information that wasn’t exactly helpful for their end goal of saving everyone, especially Hermione. 

“She said you had to survive until the end so I’m assuming it was partly because you’re the ‘Chosen One’ and the fact that she’s always had a soft spot for you,” Draco said, recalling the odd friendship he had with Luna. One he had never admitted to or wanted to admit to until this year. They were practically cousins as all purebloods were, but she had shunned no one for any reason, even when they did it to her. 

When Draco was at his loneliest, after taking the Mark and paranoia was his constant companion, Luna would always find him. He never spoke to her, but she spoke to him, about anything and everything. Her soft voice had been soothing even when he wasn’t registering her stories about nargles or horcacks. Draco however distinctly remembered how the only person she ever talked about at length was Harry. “You were the only current event she bothered keeping track of, even during the summer.”

“You talk with Luna that often?” Harry asked, the surprise clear in his voice. 

“Luna may be looney, but she was never prejudiced and took no one else’s opinion into account when choosing her friends. Even if I spoke rudely to her, which I did in the beginning, she would seek me out, unbothered. Before Hermione and you lot took me in, I would count Lovegood as a true friend.” Draco rolled his eyes at the incredulous look on Harry’s face, “Anyway, besides the Quibbler and her magical creatures, I always knew she would bring you up. I didn’t think of it until now, but Luna’s practically in love with you. You’ve got Hermione willing to die for you and Luna willing to assist in that suicide mission to keep you alive. I don’t know if that’s impressive or horrible.”

For his part, Harry frowned, “Neither of them should be doing any of this.” 

“Yes, well, it’s already done. Uncle says he won’t let Hermione die for him. I don’t know what he has planned, but he’s going to do anything and everything in his power to save her and by extension you.” Draco hoped Harry understood the gravity of everything happening around him and for him. Hopefully, the Gryffindor would start being a little more grateful. 

“He loves her.” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper. 

“So do you.”

Harry stopped as they reached the fifth floor and looked over at the Slytherin. “I do. But she loves him back. She is in love with him.”

“Yes, she is,” Draco felt pity well up inside him as he saw the tears fall on the other young man’s cheek. “I think she loves you as well or she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths. But between them, regardless of the bond, they understand each other. It’s weird to think about but it’s genuine.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged as he seemed to accept the words Draco had spoken. With a deep breath, he turned to the blond, “I think Hermione, Snape, and I need to have a long talk. We want to save her and she won’t let us. But we outnumber her.”

“First Black working with Uncle and Father and now you want to get buddy-buddy with Uncle too? This war is bringing us all together isn’t it?” Draco smirked, trying to bring some levity to the heavy situation. They turned a corner towards Hermione’s rooms when Harry stopped Draco in his tracks and pushed him back. 

“Harry, what the hell?” Draco hissed.

Harry shushed him, “It’s the Professor.”

Draco peeked around the corner and watched as the dark man entered the hallway with an unconscious Hermione in his arms. His head was down as he looked at the girl. Snape pressed a kiss to her temple before he began walking in the opposite direction. Draco turned to Harry who was about to call out to the Professor. With a wandless silencing charm, the words died on the Gryffindor’s lips. 

“Wait!” He heatedly whispered to the now irate Harry, “You know he would never hurt her. So let’s follow them. I’d like to know what he’s up to.”

With a nod from Harry, they followed at a distance. It became clear very quickly that the Professor was heading to the Room of Requirement with his precious cargo. They settled into a dark alcove and observed as the ex-spy paced the required amount of passes in front of the wall until ornate double doors appeared. Snape seemed to steady himself, bow his head, and then passed through the doors which shut behind him. But unlike previous uses of the magical room, the doors did not disappear. Before Draco could stop him, Harry was already making his way down the hall towards the doors. 

The young Slytherin followed quickly after his reckless friend. Draco had a clue about what this was all about based on his godfather’s earlier declaration. Part of him wanted to convince Harry not to interfere, but the other part felt like someone should interfere. Who would have thought he would be stuck picking between loyalty to Harry or loyalty to Snape? Harry was already at the doors and Draco found his decision made for him. He followed the Gryffindor through the doors and down a dim hallway. Harry stopped as the hall turned and then ended, opening up to an expansive and regal room that was more marble than any other stone. It felt like every square inch of the place was imbued with magic. 

In the middle of the room, Snape had laid Hermione out on a soft blanket. He sat next to her and gently brushed her hair off her forehead. His long fingers barely touched the skin of her face. Draco had never seen his godfather be so tender to another human before. He glanced at his companion only to see Harry take a step into the room. Draco grabbed Harry’s arm to stop him. He made a gesture to ‘wait and listen’ knowing that whatever his godfather was doing was probably important. They stayed in the shadows as Snape spoke into the empty room, looking up at the ceiling, through the colored glass to the bright moon above. His skin almost glowed under the light of the ethereal body. It felt wrong to interrupt. 

“You’ll forgive me for taking this away from you, won’t you, sweet girl?” His voice rumbled with exhaustion. Both young men were surprised at the emotion that was so easy to hear as he said the girl’s name. “Hermione, I refuse to go into this battle knowing that my death or even just a grave injury would take you from this world. I know you’ll balk at me for not giving you a choice in the matter. But to be fair you didn’t give me much of a choice when you placed this bond on me,” He chuckled mirthlessly. The small smile on his face receded into a serious mask. 

“I’ve considered all the possibilities; what would happen if our bond remains or if it were broken? What would become of your soul when Harry dies? What would happen to you if the Dark Lord got to have his way with me?” Snape paused, taking a deep breath. “That’s when I decided the best course of action. To save your soul, Harry has to live. If I’m going to make sure Harry lives, then I can’t worry about myself or you. You’ve already given me more to live for than I’ve had since Lily…I won’t allow you to be harmed even if it kills me.”

Draco felt Harry tense next to him. He turned to his dark-haired friend with a questioning look but Harry ignored him, his focus on their potions professor. 

“I think she would have liked you, Hermione. She might have been jealous of your brilliant aptitude for all things magical. Lily was the competitive sort. I told you she was intelligent but your brilliance exceeds her by leagues,” Snape spoke fondly of whoever this ‘Lily,’ was, but at each mention of her, Harry twitched. Snape shifted to combing his fingers gently through the crown of Hermione’s hair. “You would have forgiven me if that day had happened between us. If I had called you what I called her. You’ve forgiven Ronald for worse. Not to mention how easily you’ve welcomed Draco. You are far more forgiving than any of us deserve and I hope you will continue to be so once you wake.”

The candid confessions were almost too much for Draco to bear. The affection Snape showed her was done with ease and familiarity. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to feel that way about someone. Or, if he were lucky, if someone looked at him and touched him like that.

Snape seemed to gaze at Hermione as if he were trying to memorize her features. “You’ve captured my heart and soul, as reluctant as I have been. Even before this bond, you had slowly been whittling your way beneath my skin. Silly girl with your free smiles, unerring respect, and indiscriminate Gryffindor nature. This foolish old man had allowed himself innocent fantasies of being cared for by someone like you. To have lived it, to have this bond sing its praises every time we touch is a blessing I am far from worthy of. You have loved me. Me? Severus Snape. And I have loved you. None of that will leave you when this bond is broken. I will still love you, I’m certain. But I will be the one to carry the burden of saving Harry Potter, as I have vowed over and over again since the night I lost Lily.”

Who the hell is Lily? Draco thought to himself. It seemed Harry knew the answer to that question based on his twitching and the furrow of his brow. Before he could hiss his question, Snape leaned over Hermione and kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and finally her lips. Draco felt, even more, like he was intruding on something very private but couldn’t stop himself from continuing his observance, and neither could Harry.

Snape stood and began conjuring candles and placing them a safe distance away from the unconscious young woman. He continued to speak to her as he moved, “Harry is lucky to have you. I may never understand why you possess any feelings for me, but no one would ever be baffled if you and the Chosen One were to find love in one another. A much better choice than Weasley at the very least. I very much doubt that Potter would make you his broodmare. You have such a bright future ahead of you, love. When this war is over you could do anything, be anything, and nothing would stop you. I never intended to make it to the end, but I promised I wouldn’t let you die and this,” He paused and gestured to the candles and supplies, “is me keeping that promise. I want you to shine as brightly as your moniker; ‘the brightest witch of her age.’ You truly are the brightest witch I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. I wish I could have told you so many things, and praised you for every impressive act you accomplished. I hope I can be there when you undoubtedly fight for the rights of the downtrodden.”

He paused again and poured out a circle of salt. Once it seemed all the pieces were in place, he rolled up his sleeves. Then he stood over Hermione, behind her head, and looked down at her prone form. Draco could see the unabashed love in his eyes, fiery and passionate. The softness of his next words made them hard to hear even in the quiet ritual room, “Then you did this. You took my mark away. Healed me. Freed me. The forbidden attraction I had to you paled in comparison to my gratitude, awe, and admiration. Even if I did not love you as ardently as I do now, I would still have made my promises to you. You deserve the world, Hermione. I will grant it to you in my own way.”

The air left Draco as he watched the Potions Professor conjure an athame. The moon glinted off the blade as he raised it over his head, then brought it down with a powerful swing. Draco couldn’t stop the yell of surprise that erupted from his lips as the sharp dagger cleaved the skin of his forearm spilling blood in rivulets down his elbow onto the face of the girl below him. The blond’s attention jerked to the side as Harry moved forward and slashed his wand through the air sending the blade flying. 

—-----------------

Severus had hoped the boys would stay at the door, either out of fear or curiosity. He’d noticed them watching when he had set the staging of the ritual but his focus on Hermione stayed his hand. Now he regretted not petrifying them. He ignored the sting of his forearm as he summoned a powerful shield that kept the young men out of the ritual area. Thankfully, the magic from the shield charm would not interfere with the blood magic. But as his blood gushed from his wound, he realized he may have cut too deep. He needed to complete this quickly. Lifting his head, his dark eyes met the familiar green ones across the room. Lily’s eyes.

 “What the hell are you doing, Snape?” Harry asked, looking angry and concerned. 

Ignoring the emotions that rose at the sharp gaze so reminiscent of Harry’s mother, Severus glanced at the candle closest to him. As long as he finished the ritual before the last candle died it would still be successful. He glowered at the boy and summoned as much spite as he could, imagining the boy's father in his stead. “This is none of your concern, Potter. Draco petrify him and go back to your dorms! Do as I say!” 

The way Draco flinched and raised his wand at the other boy was a triumph and a punch in the gut. He had hoped that he could still instill fear that would push the boy to follow orders, but seeing the regret and guilt on the young man’s face made him grimace. Draco started a spell, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry yelled, easily disarming Draco. 

Shit. Always with the blasted disarming spell. Does he know anything else? Did I have that great of an impact on him when I dueled Lockhart in his second year that it’s the only spell he remembers? Why does Draco have to be such utter shit at dueling? Snape glanced at the candle nearest to Harry. As long as the boy doesn’t break the circle or knock over a candle, the ritual could still work. 

Quickly, his mind raced to find some illusion or distraction to buy him time. Remembering the oddest prank he had ever caught the Weasley twins trying to master. He recalled the effective illusion with specific movements of his hand. In a pose as if he were breathing fire and the flame were the tip of his thumb, a nine-tailed beast burst forth in a bright blaze. I will need to ban that Eastern text if I don’t want a legion of these beasts roaming the grounds for fun. Severus mused to himself as he eyed the fiery but harmless beast.

The fire-born nine-tailed fox could easily be dispelled but the two young men didn’t know that. He set the fox to stand between the ritual and the two students. It snarled and snapped its jaws menacingly, causing the interlopers to jump back in fright. With his concentration now split, Snape knew he had to get the ritual finished. Already he was feeling the weakness of blood loss.

“Answer me you great bat! What are you doing to Hermione?” Harry yelled from somewhere across the room. I’m doing you a favor. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Potter?” Severus lashed out, already stressed from what he was doing. “I’m removing the blasted bond between me and Hermione so I can do what I’ve been planning to do for 20 years, keep you safe long enough to kill the Dark Lord.”

“You can’t do that!” Draco countered, “Hermione would never agree to it! How do you even know it will work?”

“It will work because it has to. Hermione will understand eventually,” Severus kept his eyes on her face as his blood dripped on her cheeks. He could feel her magic pulsing in the depth of his being and tried not to think about its coming absence, “I will not let her die to protect me. I will save her soul by keeping Potter alive even if it kills me!”

The younger men protested while dodging the fox. Severus ran through the list of steps in his head. Blasted Eastern magic has to be so bloody complicated. Severus thought to himself as he knelt and began writing runes on Hermione’s forehead with his blood. He shook his head when his vision blurred. A flick of his wrist brought out a yellow sheaf of paper with red inscriptions that he laid on her chest, a protection charm from the darker nature of the magic. The ex-spy ignored the shouting of Harry and Draco as he conjured a white string that he reddened with his blood. First tying it to his index finger on the arm he cut, then tying the other end to Hermione’s left index finger. His hands were shaking with the effort and adrenaline.

Severus spared the younger men and the surrounding candles a glance before closing his eyes and beginning the chant. He needed to be accurate, one misstep in his words and he could ruin the ritual. His low voice resonated as the Korean Shamanic chant filled the room. As he sank into the rhythmic pattern of the chant, he felt like he’d split in two. A consciousness performing the ritual while the other looked down at the young woman he had come to love. Not for the first time, he marveled at how she was able to find some of these practices. If her notes hadn’t included the research on East Asian shamanism, he may have never considered them as the answer to the problem of their bond. 

With a final yell, he conjured another blade and cut the red string that connected them. There was a moment of complete stillness then a sonic wave of magic rippled through the room. A sourceless wind buffeted those present, dispelling the fiery fox, snuffing the candles, and ruining the salt circle. His magic reached out for the familiar fiery pulse of hers. Their magical connection which had brought him so much comfort and solace, was gone.

For the first time in months, Severus felt the tear in his soul gaping open. The bond was broken and so was he.

—--------

As Harry watched the string between Snape and Hermione being sliced apart, he knew in his soul that the old potion master loved her in a way that Harry could never fathom. The likelihood of Snape surviving the war was slim to none, especially after his duplicity was made public. Now he had cut his only sure lifeline.

The wind died down, and the room was eerily quiet. The blood that was spilled onto Hermione was gone and the slash through the Professor’s forearm had slowed its bleeding. Draco rushed to his godfather’s side as Harry followed slowly after him. 

“Uncle!” Draco called out as he reached Snape, grabbing his shoulder. He adjusted his grip to welcome the older man into his arms. To Harry’s surprise, Snape slumped against Draco’s shoulder. He whispered, his voice dripping with concern, “Godfather? What do you need?”

Unable to look away, Harry took in the weakened form of the great potion master. Exhaustion softened Snape’s usually sharp features; his skin was pale and slick with sweat. His whole body was trembling. The whisper he emitted paled compared to the commanding and deep voice Harry was used to. Draco was shifting his eyes between him and Snape as if he didn’t know who he should be comforting. The blond finally turned his full attention to his godfather. “Draco…potions, I need my potions.”

“I’ve got you, Uncle,” Draco assured Snape despite the tremble in his voice and hand as he summoned the potions with a silent accio. The tinkling of glass bottles, as they rolled out of a bag against the wall, filled the quiet room.

His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Harry didn’t know how to accept this version of Snape. Separating years of his verbal barbs and unending loathing from the man he had revealed himself to be felt like an impossible feat. Snape had always been a bitter and confrontational man, but now the layers were peeling back with each sacrifice. Snape’s love for Hermione was undeniable, and it shook Harry to his core. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His eyes darted between Snape’s pale face and Hermione’s still form. He wanted to hate Snape, but all he could feel was a deep, unsettling respect.

Looking away from the complicated man, Harry knelt next to Hermione, taking her hand in his. Her skin was comfortably warm and her breathing was even. Harry blocked out Snape’s broken voice as he checked that Hermione was physically alright and merely unconscious. But hearing the weakness in the man’s voice woke something in him. 

As his thoughts spiraled, Harry could feel the darkness within him closing in around the edges of his psyche. That’s not what he’s supposed to sound like. The bat is supposed to sneer and throw insults and sound superior. He’s supposed to be selfish and hateful and the epitome of a Slytherin. He’s supposed to be someone worthy of hate. Unable to stop the sudden burst of vindictive energy, Harry shoved Draco away and grabbed Snape by the collar. 

“What the hell are you playing at? Why would you sacrifice the only sure thing that would keep you alive?!” He snapped at Snape who winced. Rather than glowering at him or responding, the ex-spy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that, Snape. What the hell are you and Dumbledore planning?”

That got a reaction from the dark man who glared hard at him. Snape growled but did not move from Draco’s supportive grip. “Do not compare me to that manipulative old fool. I would not sacrifice Hermione the way he would. You and I both want Hermione to survive this, but she won’t if she is still bonded to me.”

“How long have you known how to break the bond? Why are you suddenly breaking it now?” Harry countered. It had occurred to him earlier that this wasn’t a spontaneous attempt, that it had taken preemptive measures and proactive planning. 

Snape rubbed his face in exasperation. He ground out, “I was not sure if it would work. But I had to try something. I… I couldn’t let her die for me.”

“But your magic could have saved her too! It was a two-way bond! What if she gets injured when the battle finally comes?!” Harry shook the man, panic taking hold. He could feel the darkness inside him closing in the way it had on Christmas. Startled, he released the Professor. Harry sat back and covered his face while catching his breath. 

“I have no intention of allowing Hermione to fight. If I have my way both of you will be safely ensconced somewhere while I kill the bastard. But at the very least I could be at your side and she would be safely locked in her rooms or the dungeons. I have spared her a death from her connection to me. I will make sure you aren’t responsible for her spiritual death even if it means having to force Miss Lovegood’s hand.” There was a finality and determination in his voice that Harry couldn’t argue with. 

“Both of you are such idiots. She’s going to kill you when she wakes up, Uncle,” Draco mumbled as he cast cleansing charms on Snape. “We don’t know what kind of oath Hermione asked of Luna. For all we know it was an Unbreakable Vow and if we interfere, it might kill them both. Frankly, I doubt you could convince Luna to reverse it, anyway. She’s not completely clueless as to why Hermione did it all in the first place. She agreed to it, remember?”

That finally took the wind out of Harry’s sails. He did his best to calm himself until the darkness inside him receded. If I can’t make Luna remove it then my only hope to save Hermione is not to die. The only people who could stop that from happening are Dumbledore and Snape. Maybe it doesn’t matter if I’m the ‘Chosen One’ if we can end this another way. 

—---------------

“He slipped me a potion or cast a charm,” Hermione said to herself as she sat in her mind library. She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious but it had taken a while for her consciousness to awaken enough to find the library. “Severus, what in the world are you doing?”

She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, her insides fluttering and tumbling. She searched for the bond. She could feel the heat of it but couldn’t feel him. He was blocking her again, obviously wanting to keep whatever plans he had a secret. Hermione tried to will herself into wakefulness but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Whatever he had dosed her with was strong and would not yield to her no matter what she tried. 

“Severus, what in Merlin’s name are you planning?” She spoke to herself as she circled her library and located the most recent memories. Reliving the moments before she had slipped into consciousness painted her cheeks with a blush. He had never been so open with his feelings before; so vulnerable and so unabashed in his expression of his ardor for her. 

Hermione sat at her desk and closed her eyes. She recalled the feel of his body against hers, the intoxicating scent of spices and wood smoke, and of course, the way he had kissed her. Then she remembered that the very first moments they had kissed, there was an unfamiliar sweetness to his lips. He dosed me with a kiss. 

“You bastard. Did Harry tell you how I got him locked in that room?” Hermione scoffed to herself. It was oddly gratifying to know that he had pulled a trick that she had inspired. Then she faltered again, remembering how they had yelled at each other at the meeting. She hadn’t wanted him to know that she had taken a wand oath with Luna that same day. His anger was justified to an extent. But who was he to tell her what to do with her life?

“He’s your person, your twin flame, your match, Hermione.”

Luna’s voice seemed to float around her pulling her back into the memory of their most recent conversation. 

“He’s important to me. More than I ever thought he would be,” Hermione responded as they sat in her sitting room. Luna was wandering around the perimeter of the room, running her fingertips along the spines of the many books on her shelves. 

“He’s your soulmate. Well, soulmates aren’t real but if they were, he would be yours.” The Ravenclaw's ethereal voice was so assured even in its calmness. 

“And Harry is yours?” She asked, hesitantly. It wasn’t until the beginning of term that Hermione learned about Luna’s feelings for Harry. Though if she thought about it, it made sense. She was the calm boat in the storm of his life. 

Luna sighed heavily and sat down next to her on the couch. She fixed herself a far-too-sweet cup of tea before continuing, “Someone can be the love of my life while I am not theirs.” 

Hearing her say that was heartbreaking in its own right. “Don’t say that Luna. Harry is just stressed and confused. After everything fell out between him and Ginny, he misdirected his affections to me. I’m sorry I let him think we were closer than we were when I lost my memory.”

“No need to apologize,” Luna smiled softly at her, “That was unfortunate but I knew you didn’t truly return his feelings like that. At least not as deeply. You aren’t obligated to ignore your feelings even if I have my own either, Hermione.”

“So you knew I considered it?” Hermione prodded.

“I think it would be odder if you hadn’t tried to see him in that light considering how close you are. But now that you have Severus, I think we both know that what you feel for Harry isn’t romantic,” Luna once more was unfazed by their candid conversation, “It’s different when you kiss the Professor than it is when you kiss Harry.”

Hermione blushed, “Yes. It’s very different.” 

“What will you do now? I’m sorry I told him we had made the oath today. When he’s angry, I am reminded that he is a professor and demands the truth,” Luna dropped her head, ashamed. 

“I think it’s time that Severus and I, and Harry too, have a long conversation about the three of us not dying,” Hermione chuckled at the morbid idea. 

Luna also couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping, “Three of the most sacrificing people to walk into Hogwarts and you’re all supposed to come to a compromise. I wish you luck, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Luna.” Hermione let her giggles die down before she posed another question to her friend, “Luna, will you ever tell Harry that you love him? He’ll wonder why you agreed to my plan and I don’t think he will accept that you did it merely because I asked.” 

The blonde seemed to think long and hard on this question, “I don’t think I will have to explain myself to Harry. He will know.”

“Hermione”

At the sound of her name being called and the feeling of being shaken by the shoulders, Hermione’s eyes opened. It was dark, but the moon shone through the familiar stained glass on the ceiling. She squinted her eyes as she adjusted to wakefulness. This place? How did I get here? Why does my head hurt?

“Hey there curly-q,” Draco teased, looking relieved as he looked down at her. His hands were on her shoulders, presumably from shaking her earlier. His voice sounded too loud in the empty room. “How are you feeling?” 

Hermione’s head throbbed, she felt groggy and disoriented. She shut her eyes tight and tried to recall what she was doing back in the Room of Requirement. Shifting into her mind and flicking through her short-term memory an unfamiliar emptiness made itself known. There was a gaping hole where Severus’s magic used to dwell. Her hand found her chest, clutching at her heart like it may give out. 

Panicked, she opened her eyes and looked around the room. Struggling to sit until Harry’s warm presence came to her side and helped her up. Draco was next to her, the blanket beneath her was from her room, and there were remnants of salt, candles, and blood. Then finally she found him. Propped up against a far wall was Severus, looking worse for wear and closed off. He however would not meet her eyes. 

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Harry asked from her side. With his hand on her arm, she looked down and could see their bond, shrouding him and tethered to her. A wave of relief crashed over her when she found Vittas Vitae intact. Once more she reached for the bond with Severus and felt nothing. Her heart raced, sweat beading at her temples. She raised her brown eyes and found the deep dark gaze of Severus finally directed at her. 

It's gone. The epiphany hit her like a ton of bricks. He broke the bond. Tears welled up in her eyes blurring her vision and her breath came out in panicked huffs, “No, no, no, no, you didn’t. Why did you? Severus, what have you done?” 

“Hermione, you need to calm down. We can explain but if you continue like this, you’ll give yourself a panic attack,” Draco put a soothing arm around her and brushed her hair from her face, trying his best to comfort her. But her eyes were boring into Severus’s

“Answer me! You broke the bond! How could you?” Her voice broke as the loss of his magic inside her left an acute feeling of emptiness. Still, he did not speak. Hermione didn’t know whether to be angry or heartbroken. She should have expected this, he had said as much during the meeting. There was no sign that he had meant to implement the change so soon, let alone that he knew how. “You’ve known how to break the bond all along?”

Finally, he spoke, the familiar sneer of disdain on his face. “No. But I did not figure it out… recently. Neither did you. We both didn’t break it. One of us had to be proactive.”

Hermione wanted to lunge at the man and wipe the smirk off his face. Her voice was shrill with emotion, “The bond was good for us! The bond was to protect you!”

“I do not need your protection, insolent girl!” Severus pushed off the wall propelled by his anger. “Who are you to protect me? I promised you, I swore to you that you would not die. I keep my promises, Miss Granger.”

The sudden use of her last name was sobering. He was already drawing a line between them. Hermione tried to stand, to fight him but her body wouldn’t listen. Her limbs felt heavy as logs, reminding her that she had, only recently, been discharged from the hospital wing along with being drugged. 

“You’ll be weak for at least another day. Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy will take you back to your dorms.” With those parting words, Severus left without turning back. Only then, as he walked away from her, did she notice the blood on his arm. A deep inhale flooded her nose with the scent of blood. She looked down at herself and saw her clothing speckled with the red liquid.

At that moment, everything seemed to catch up to Hermione for the first time since her parents had been killed. The bond that had protected her with a comfort that had filled the gaping hole in her chest was gone and now everything was flooding in, rising to the surface, begging for attention. 

The tears came quickly and tracked her face in rivulets. She became aware of her body shaking and her breath hitching in her throat. Her mind was hurtling through the last 8 months and seemed to halt during her time at Malfoy Manor. Severus’s love and magic had helped her bypass the trauma of the ordeal but now that he was lost to her, it consumed her. Like a demented slideshow of suffering, she remembered all that her body had suffered at the hands of Voldemort and Fenrir. The mental block that Severus had built for her had left with him. 

Hermione did not realize she was nearly screaming with grief. She did not hear her wails of heartrending pain nor did she know she gripped the hands of the two boys next to her so hard she drew blood. 

Across the room, down the short hallway, and before the doors that would lead out into the castle, Severus listened and tucked his heartbreak behind wall after wall of occlusion. Not for the first time his hatred for himself burned as brightly as the love he had for her. But now he welcomed darkness. 

Chapter Text

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 even more on his personal improvements. 

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. Thankfully the Order didn’t hold a meeting every night, but still it was a challenge to keep up. The only recourse was complete commitment and dedication, not an impossible request when every day more people were dying, but still taxing nonetheless.

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. 

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 long 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 some of 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 before finally addressing her, “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. Memories of the warmth and lightness he would feel after every interaction he had with her over the years rained down upon him. Just as Hermione had been by his side, Luna had taken up space in his sphere as well.

“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. It had taken both boys a considerable amount of convincing and even a dose of calming draught to get Hermione back to her dorm for the night, locking herself away from the world. 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. For example, you and Draco have a natural affinity for each other.” Harry blanched and Luna couldn’t help but laugh. She sipped her tea and continued, “While the both of you have no romantic feelings for each other, your affinity is why you make great dueling partners. Instincts and chemistry are in your favor.”

“So it’s like they have more potential to work out than a relationship created without an affinity?” Once he got the image of him and Draco in a passionate embrace out of his head, Harry thought hard about Professor Snape and Hermione. They were both introverted, book smart, quite ruthless, and stubborn as an ox. 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 within a quirk of an eyebrow or a crinkling of a nose spoke of how in sync they were. Harry recalled a recent two-vs-two where he and Draco had gone up against Ron and Ginny. It had been invigorating how easily they ebbed and flowed in the midst of the fight.

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

He looked at Luna and the sadness in her demeanor left him with a wash of guilt. 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. But 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 heartbreaking in its own way. 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 offered hesitantly. 

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, scalding the boys. 

“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 himself. 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. 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 and so soft to touch. His breath hitched as he visualized her responding to his touch, her body arching against him. Severus 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 the sheets. 

But as he lay there, remembering the night she had slept in his bed and he was on top of the covers, his heart yearned. He should have held her more often 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. His dreams were plagued by Hermione’s screams and memories of his tortured past. Restless was not description enough to explain the depth of his quiet suffering. But in the early morning hours, before the sun could rise above the castle, his dreams were interrupted by the sounds of sirens. 

The castle wards had been breached. 

Chapter Text

Tossing and turning in her four-post bed, Hermione huffed, breaking the silence in her bedroom. Her muscles were sore, her brain was tired and her heart fractured. No matter how soft the bed was or how often she fluffed her pillow, sleep would not overtake her. It had been weeks since she had been able to appreciate the simple creature comforts afforded to her. She wasn’t exactly sure how much sleep she had gotten the past month or so since the bond was broken. From the emotional turmoil and heartbreak of the termination of the bond to the complete upheaval of daily life at Hogwarts, she hadn’t had much time to think about her emotional state whatsoever. Not that she wanted to. 

The heartrending pain that had immediately followed the dissolution of Un Anima Duo had felt worse than any pain she had ever experienced, even the loss of her parents. The tear in her soul that blood magic had created was a gaping wound in her very being. One that Severus’s magic had previously filled. 

Unconsciously her hand reached for the chain around her neck. The ring she shared with Severus hung on it, close to her heart, but out of sight. A memory from Christmas tried to worm its way to the surface but she pushed it down. The slow appearance of her mind library only bombarded her with more memories of Severus that she did not wish to dwell on. From the first night when he had offered his open door to the day she kidnapped him to perform the ritual. The hungry look in his eyes when he had been jealous of Harry in her bed in the hospital wing. Every kiss they had shared ghosted her lips. The relief when he had survived his torture was followed by the relief she felt when she had survived her own harrowing ordeal. It was no exaggeration to say their relationship, bond and all, had been a rollercoaster. One that she could admit to enjoying while it lasted. 

Severus. She cursed him and hated him and loved him more than she should. The logical part of her knew that in the same position, she would have freed him of the bond as he had done her. But he hadn’t given her a choice in the matter which sparked another layer of frustration. It was a gift she had wholeheartedly wanted him to have, a second lease on life, and he had just thrown it away. She remembered how angry he had been when he had found out the lengths to which she had gone but she ignored it. She wanted to feel slighted. Anger was easier to handle than sadness. Hermione was almost thankful that he had made himself scarce. She hadn’t been able to look at him. Even the simple thought of him made the backs of her eyes sting with unshed tears. To face him would cause a complete meltdown and one thing she had learned all these weeks of training was that soldiers didn’t have meltdowns. 

That’s what she had become. Hermione had taken up the mantle of soldier-cum-general with her strategic training regimen as well as her excellence in all fields. Her anger and heartbreak had become fuel for the cold persona she now wielded like a sword and shield. She knew she was pushing herself too far but what was more effort in the face of a war that once lost would result in her early death anyway? 

The increasing attacks on muggleborns, muggles, and sympathizers were proof of her doom in the face of failure. With the intensity with which she threw herself into training, she quickly became one of the most ruthless duellers. Her occlusion and singular focus had become something to envy as she excelled and others like Ron and Harry did their best to catch up. 

Succumbing to her body’s desperate need for sleep, Hermione took half a dose of a sleeping draught. With a heavy sigh, she sank into the bed and allowed unconsciousness to take her. The darkness of sleep seemed to melt and meld until she was lost in vivid passing dreams. Her mind danced around topics in a blur of color and sound. Nothing stuck around for long as her thoughts wafted about in her dozing mind. 

Through the thick fog of the land of dreams, her mind began to sharpen once more. Then she felt the warm embrace that she had been longing for wrap around her from behind. 

“Hermione, love. Can you forgive me?”

His deep voice, which she had missed so much, spoke in her ear. The rumble of it seemed to travel through her chest and straight into her heart. Hermione pressed herself against his warm presence. The feel of him spooning her was a reminder of the rare moments when they had held each other. She felt his lips descend to a spot just behind her ear then followed the curve of her neck to her shoulder. His hot kisses stole gasps from her lips. The growing hunger for him, the request for a shared carnal pleasure dove straight to her core. 

“I just want to keep you safe, Hermione. I want you to look at all of this and see that I am doing the right thing.”

Severus tilted her head as he rose above her, looking her in the eye as she lay back against her bed. His dark eyes betrayed every emotion to her. Her eyes focused on his lips and the feel of his arousal against her thigh. She wanted him so badly. The lust and want in his eyes were so blatant she might have believed he was actually in bed with her and not some phantom birthed out of her longing. She reached out her hands, gliding them into his silk ink hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

Suddenly the scene shifted seamlessly and he was on top of her, lavishing her neck and chest with fevered kisses. His hums of pleasure were music to her ears. The crescendo of their passion was created by moans and sighs. Scenes were moving as they do in dreams, disjointed and barely linear. But still delicious to her soul which was starved of his affection. Against her better judgment, Hermione pushed all notions of reality into a far corner of her mind and deep into her library. She would enjoy this specter while she could. 

“I’ve missed you, pet. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Hermione could almost hear his panting breath as he pressed adoring kisses along her naked body. She mewled out her pleasure as they moved, skin to skin. Blunt nails scratched down the length of his back as she wrapped her legs around his hips, joining them in a primal rhythm. The spicy fresh smell of him, the sound of their love-making, and the taste of his tongue against hers surrounded her in imagined bliss. 

“I love you, Hermione.”

“Severus!” She keened as her pleasure hit its peak, and she awoke sitting alone in her bed, sweat pouring off her skin. The fog of the dream ebbed away leaving her feeling vulnerable and broken. Agitated, Hermione abandoned sleep. With a quick spell, she cleaned herself up and dressed. It would be dawn soon.

The dream replayed in her head as she walked the quiet castle. How far and how deeply had she fallen for him? Without the bond, he still resided in a large part of her heart and mind. Even with her simmering rage at what he had done, she could not deny the love she carried for him. Hermione had never thought of anyone in such carnal terms, but she yearned for the dream to be a reality. 

As she traversed the dark hallways she recalled her fourth year. She had been so shy around Victor Krum. An alcove where he had pulled her for a stolen kiss was now barren and cold. Could she have ever felt so deeply for the Bulgarian? No, she had never felt anything close to her feelings for Severus towards the shy Quidditch player. Hermione couldn’t even recall what the boy’s kisses felt like. For a fleeting moment, she could almost taste Severus on her lips.

The past year had shown her so many layers to the dark wizard. His compassion at the tower, his sense of justice and loyalty, and his self-sacrificing nature. In another life, without the burdens that they carried, they would have been a good match. Their intellect and devotion paired with their mutual stubbornness and capacity for love would have melded well. But there was no time for such gratuitous dreaming. 

As she turned a corner, she looked into an empty room. A bittersweet smile graced her lips as a memory played before her eyes. How she had cried over Ron and Lavender. A silly crush that would amount to nothing in the end. Harry had been there for her as he sulked over Ginny. The irony that it was Harry that she had cultivated a relationship with didn’t escape her. But that too was a doomed infatuation. Severus had pulled her away from Harry long before she ever realized it. Hermione shook her head to rid herself of the adolescent memories and childish problems before continuing her early morning stroll through the castle. 

Her feet carried her up staircase after staircase until she found herself in front of the Astronomy tower doors. With a raised brow, she looked around, waiting for someone to appear. But no one did. Her subconscious had wanted to go down memory lane it seemed. By the time she was leaning against the railing, basking in the cool morning breeze, and looking out across the vast grounds, she had gone over every memory of her time there. The most recent of all was another amorous embrace with Severus when she hadn’t had all her memories back. 

A chuckle found its way out of her mouth, unbidden. Hermione had imagined so many things when she first found out she was a witch but nothing could have prepared her for falling in love with one of her professors. Young Hermione would have balked at all the trouble she had gotten into over the years and how she had gotten away with it all. With her neurotic studying and endless planning, she had always thought she would be prepared for anything life could throw at her. No one could have prepared her for fighting in a war or for losing her parents. 

Her grief and exhaustion hit her like a train, stealing her breath and causing a sudden rise in panic. She clutched at her chest, panting as tears pricked at her eyes. Her vision blurred and her hands shook as she lost her composure. Hermione battled her anxiety and panic, gripped the cold steel of the railing, and looked down at the dark, dew-covered grounds below. She counted the trees on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She hummed along to the sound of birds waking with the promise of dawn. It wasn’t good for her to be alone here. 

She could jump. He wouldn’t be here to save her this time. The panic, pain, and heartache would die with her and her soul would still be forfeit. Harry would still be saved and the war could end in success for the light. It would be so easy to lean too far over the bar and let her weight do the rest. She recalled the moment she had let go of the railing and how the beat of weightlessness felt like flying, only for Severus to interrupt the moment of bliss. Hermione recalled how she found her hair beautiful as it was tousled with the wind, the refreshing bite of the air once she was no longer sheltered on the tower. It had been so peaceful. She looked down and remembered the cobblestone rushing towards her. With a gasp, she regained control and took a step away from the railing. 

Stupid. The final battle was approaching. If she planned to die anyway it might as well be in battle, like a hero, like a true Gryffindor, rather than a coward. It was a selfish thought, to take her own life after everything that had transpired. Hermione refused to send them off to face the Dark Lord while suffering from the grief of her death. With rough hands, she rubbed away the remains of her tears and turned on her heel. When she had regained her composure her hand found the ring that was disillusioned on a chain around her neck. She needed to talk to Severus.

Hermione hurried down each floor with a building sense of anticipation. They had not spoken directly to each other in almost 2 months. She suddenly felt a long-forgotten bashfulness at the idea of being alone with Severus again. Her juvenile thoughts were interrupted as the castle shook like it had been hit by a bomb. At the bottom of the stairs on the third floor the deafening sounds of the wards being breached rent the air. A wave of cool magic hit her in the chest as the defenses of Hogwarts rose to the challenge. Hermione catapulted herself over banisters and skipped steps. As she made her way to the bottom floor she shirked off the weakness of her heartfelt feelings and her exhaustion. 

When she reached the open doors of the main entrance she could see in the distance, just past the main gates, a swirling horde of wizards pointing their wands at the castle gates as dark creatures protected them. She could barely hear herself think over the sounds of spells making an impact and the warning noises of the wards weakening. The air was hot with magic. Cloying and heavy like the gunpowder haze after New Year’s firecrackers had all burnt out. 

Hermione ran, ignoring the prone form of one of her classmates, a Hufflepuff, who was lying on the path, unmoving. With a sweeping motion and all her might, she began funneling magic into the wards and reinforcing them, knowing she could only hold out for so long until others arrived. Over the din of the gathered enemies, Hermione fortified the wards.

“SALVIO HEXIA! PROTEGO TOTALUM! FIANTO DURI!”

—--------

Severus’s quick eyes took in the scene. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted the familiar form of Hermione heading for the gates already casting reinforcement wards. He could recognize her from a mile away in the middle of a crowd if it had been asked of him. The weeks apart had not diminished his awareness of her. The guilt of their last encounter, when he had turned the tables on her, reared its ugly head. Nights had passed where he had regretted what he had done but by morning he once more believed he did the right thing. Seeing how she rushed headlong into danger without waiting for reinforcements only solidified his desire to protect her no matter the cost. Severus pulled his gaze away from Hermione and onto the path as he moved further into the grounds. 

He quelled his panic when he saw the prone form of a student on the ground. His long legs covered the distance quickly and he took a knee next to the felled young wizard, ignoring the dampness of the grass in the early morning air. He recognized him as Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff seventh-year student. With a quick wandless finite the young man sputtered awake. Upon discovering who was looming over him he gasped, reaching for the potion master.

“Professor! My cousin! Renee, she’s one of them!” Justin’s voice was shaky as he tried to sit up with Severus’s help. “We didn’t know Professor! I swear it. My uncle and aunt were killed by Death Eaters. My dad and mum took her here for protection. They wouldn’t have if they knew!”

“Calm yourself!” He snarled. Severus yanked the boy onto his feet, holding his shoulder steady as the pale Hufflepuff found his bearings. The boy looked sick with guilt causing Severus to spare him his wrath. In a reassuring tone, he continued, “None of that matters right now. Can you make it back to the castle on your own? Go, begin the evacuations!” 

The blond boy nodded, then turned on his heel and headed for the castle. While the Potions Master was outwardly projecting calm, internally he was reeling with guilt. He had been the one to escort Finch-Fletchley’s family to the castle earlier that week. Severus was ashamed to admit that on more than one occasion he had been less than vigilant when bringing in refugee families as his mind would wander to Hermione causing him to forgo the more complicated detection charms. That day, in particular, Severus had witnessed her improved dueling prowess and also her eventual defeat by Harry. The two Gryffindors had embraced following the duel and it had sent him into a jealous brood. Now his inattention had resulted in a threat entering the castle. 

However, it was not the time for guilt or self-pity. Even from this distance, he could tell that Hermione wouldn’t be able to hold the wards up on her own for long. Stubborn girl. Must you be such a Gryffindor? Before he could make his way to Hermione’s side at the gates Albus had appeared with the cavalry. Aurors and Professors ran to reinforce the shields and wards. He did not doubt that the Order members were inside preparing the castle and its occupants. If Justin had been swift then the news of the attack would be spreading like wildfire if the sirens had not already.

After taking a moment to assess the situation, the Headmaster turned to his darker counterpart and solemnly intoned, “Severus. You and I both know the time has come. We have been lying in wait but now we implement all that we have been training for. Return to the castle, alert everyone, and begin all emergency protocols. All refugees and underaged students will evacuate and those willing to fight will head to their posts. Harry must be protected at all costs. The battle-ready should gather in the front hall for direction. Do you understand?” 

Severus shoved any extenuating emotions deep behind his occlumency shield. He too knew the plans like the back of his hand but did not snap at the older man. Albus left him and moved toward the gates, his wand already raised and magic rolling off of him. As he strode forth it seemed the very water in the air was charged with electricity. There had been very few moments in his acquaintance with Albus Dumbledore that he had been able to see the truly powerful wizard that defeated Grindelwald, but this was one of them. The power exuded off of him like a slick humidity making the air grow heavy, sticky, and sickly sweet. There was a feeling that a single spark could light the air on fire. But it was still not as powerful as the wizard once had been. This difference would not be apparent only to the ex-spy. Gone were the days when Dumbledore could defeat a powerful foe on his own. He had to hurry. Severus took one more surreptitious glance at Hermione’s fierce form before taking off for the castle. 

—-----------------------

“Miss Granger,” The familiar voice of the headmaster greeted her. Hermione would count this as the only true instance in which she was grateful for the headmaster’s appearance. His magic in all its sticky glory rolled over her, undeniably powerful but still uncomfortable to her senses. But a part of her was underwhelmed. If her suspicions were correct, then the curse in his hand had progressed further. He interrupted her train of thought, “Go back to the castle while I and the others hold the wards. You created the plan yourself, so I need not repeat it to you. I trust that you will stay close to Harry until the end. This is what you have been training for!”

Hermione dropped her wand, gasping from the effort of holding the wards singlehandedly. She did not reply to the old man, her only thoughts were the survival of her friends and the man she loved. Around her, the atmosphere sizzled with the sheer amount of magic being thrown at the wards. Aurors moved in practiced movements while the professors chanted, calling upon the magic in the ley lines the grounds were built on. If the stakes were not so dire, she would have been giddy to witness such displays of magic. Instead, she ran back into the castle while pulling a vial of Invigorating Draught from a hidden pocket in her outer robe and downed it. She followed it up with an anti-venom and a vial of Felix Felicis. Confidence and a second wind allowed her to navigate the chaotic front hall in search of her friends. 

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and emanated from every student, Order member, and volunteer that she passed. All around her the student soldiers and remaining teachers were attempting to find order. For many who had not seen battle firsthand, she knew it was terrifying. No amount of training could prepare them for the fear of facing their mortality. She stood at the top of the grand staircase, looking down at the horde of people. Some of the students were looking helplessly at the professors for guidance, but they too seemed to be overwhelmed. Others were clinging to their friends, fear evident on their stricken faces.

Through the din of noise, she could hear their doubts. 

“I don’t think I can do this!”

“My little brother cried when I left him with the fifth years. I don’t think I’ll ever see him again.”

“Do you think we will make it through this?”

“Can you feel it? The magic from the castle and the professors. It's suffocating!”

“What if we lose?”

“Hermione!” Harry’s voice called to her, shattering through the onslaught of anxiety. In a moment he was at her side, followed closely by Ron. The three exchanged brief but tight embraces. Marginally, she could feel some of the tension melt from her shoulders. Unlike when she was casting the wards outside, she was no longer alone. 

Her eyes scanned her friends who were thankfully both dressed in their protective gear already. Hermione had a grip on both young men, wanting to take comfort in the familiarity for a moment longer. Behind them Ginny and Luna quickly let her know they were going to retrieve the go-bags from the Room of Requirement. Hermione nodded at them and called out a warning to ‘be safe’. The panicked conversations and the back-and-forth of students seeking out their friends were resurrecting her anxiety. Latching on to the last tangible topic, she narrowed her focus.

The go-bags were a brilliant idea from Ron inspired by a small bag she carried that had an undetectable extension charm on it. With Flitwick’s help, a bag was made for every person who was fighting for the light. Each was filled with leather armor that was spelled with impervious charms, basic healing potions, and a portkey that would take them directly to a safe house where other evacuees were housed. The bags themselves were small enough to fit in a pocket behind the leather chest pieces. Her thoughts were interrupted when Harry began to update them on the evacuations.

“Snape woke everyone up. Those evacuating and those attending to them should all be gone by now if not finishing up,” Harry affirmed as he paused to pull a galleon out of his pocket. Hermione recognized it as one of the coins she had modified. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the increasing volume of the gathered students. “Everyone that was supposed to leave is out of the castle. Snape says he’s heading down from the seventh floor.”

“Oi! You lot! Get a hold of yourselves!” Ron suddenly called out to a group at the bottom of the stairs. A screaming match and a thrown punch between two seventh-years only increased the confusion and panic. Nearby, Hermione recognized two sixth-years who were clearly in the throes of anxiety attacks. Ron and Harry rushed forward to pull the two seventh-years apart while Hermione tended to the sixth-years, giving them both Calming Draughts from her go-bag that never left her side. She couldn’t even hear what Ron and Harry were saying to the boys who had fought. 

Chaos was brewing all around them as the high stakes became apparent. With the rest of the Professors outside, the few that remained had very little control over the masses of students. Thinking quickly Hermione ran back up the stairs until she had a full view of the students who had just arrived and the ones that were still coming down the stairs from above. With a quick Sonorus, her voice boomed through the entrance hall. “LISTEN UP!” 

Silence came with the shock of her sudden outburst. Harry and Ron both looked at her like she was a bit crazy, but she simply nodded before continuing, to speak to the gathered students. With an agitated sigh, she looked around the room and said, “Thank you.”

As she gazed out over her classmates she discovered that many of them were still in their sleep clothes, having been roused out of bed by the alarms of the wards. They had all been sleeping soundly and now the world was exploding around them. Some of them were crying or looked like they had just recently stopped. Her heart ached for the classmates she had grown up with and the younger students who had come to her for help when she was a prefect and the Head Girl. Couples held each other. One half put on a brave face for their partner. Not all of these lovers would reunite when the sun was back in the sky.

Murmurs began rolling through the crowd as they waited for Hermione to speak. They were hungry for leadership, direction, and anything to direct their nervous energy. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders into place, her stance stabilized. Thankfully, her voice did not shake as she implored the crowd of witches and wizards, “We have not been training for two months for everyone to end up panicking when we are most needed! Our home is under attack! Our people are under attack! Your friends and families are counting on us, awaiting the moment when we retrieve them and bring them home! We cannot leave the Professors and the Order of the Phoenix to fight on their own! We will not fall to our knees for Voldemort and make this easy for him! Together we will end his reign of terror!”

Harry and Ron cheered first, followed by the other Gryffindors. Soon the entryway was deafening with the fervor that her words had conjured. This urged her on as she proclaimed, “You know the plan, we have gone over it a hundred times. Everyone has their gear, everyone has their potions, and everyone has their team. Draco and Neville have already begun the transformation of the Great Hall to a field hospital,” she gestured to her right where the Great Hall doors were open and the two boys along with Mrs. Malfoy and Madam Pomfrey were already busy at work. From her periphery, she saw Luna, Ginny, and Severus levitating the multitudes of go-bags between them. Her eyes met Severus’s for a moment. A millennium seemed to pass in that moment and so many unspoken words between their eyes. He nodded and turned away. Without interrupting, he and the two younger girls began passing the bags out to the crowd. More murmuring arose as the go-bags were passed hand-to-hand to the back of the mob.

 “Quidditch teams!” Hermione roared. She ignored the ache in her chest at the sight of the Potions Master. There was a loud cheer from her left, “Remember the protective enchantments on your uniforms and equipment can’t withstand too much direct damage so keep your shields up! Head to the towers, you know where to go! When you hear the signal and only when you hear the signal you take off! Groups of 5 on the offensive. Remember if you are signaled then your teams are authorized to maim or kill!” There was a chorus of salutations as the groups headed off while summoning their gear to follow them. There was shuffling and murmuring rising in the crowd as people began changing into their gear using magic. 

“Retrieval Team!” She yelled. A group of younger female students, flanked by much larger sixth-years were called to attention. “No heroics from you lot. Find and retrieve the injured and fallen and remember the rules of triage. Rotate which half is out on the field as it will be emotionally taxing. Most of all, stay safe, even if it means having to leave someone behind who cannot be saved. Stay back until Madam Pomfrey or Mrs. Malfoy give you your orders!”

“Defensive Unit!” She hollered over the adrenaline fueled and apprehensive murmurs. A group of the best charms students came forward, fully prepared with wands at the ready.  “Join the Professors now! Remember two for every adult. We must keep our most experienced duelists in the fight for as long as possible. I do not expect most of you to be able to kill a Death Eater without remorse, but you can make sure those who are trained to will have the opening. Throw shielding charms up for others only if it will not make you or your partners vulnerable.” 

The group nodded and then jogged out of the open doors. 

Hermione looked at the large group of remaining students. She finished off her orders, “E-Team and D-Team, support and protect the medical team and the Great Hall. If any retrieval teams need an assist, be there for them. Raise the wards on the staircase. If any death eaters manage to get past the doors we want them to have a hard time reaching the rest of the castle. C-Team and B-Team, you lot are our largest contingencies, help wherever you are needed but your main objective is defense. Cover the north and west sides of the castle. They may be focusing on the south main gate and the east side because of the forest but they could switch tactics at any time. Be prepared and use your patronus to alert team leaders if that should come to pass. They cannot make it into this castle!”

There were yells of agreement as the various teams maneuvered around. Adrenaline muted her hearing as she watched her orders being followed. Pride welled up in her as her contemporaries stepped into their roles. There were distant bangs and yells as the main wards finally gave way. Through the front doors, she could see their comrades falling back behind the secondary wards that had already been erected. A smirk graced her face when she noticed Mcgonagall directing the castle statues to fortify the defense. 

“That leaves the A-Team, I believe Miss Granger,” Dumbledore declared. He stood at the threshold, a sheen of sweat on his forehead but not looking any worse for wear. The twinkle in his eye was a surprise. For a moment Hermione could have sworn she saw a hint of approval on the Headmaster’s face. Behind him, she could still see and hear the other capable witches and wizards holding the wards and getting into formation.